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moody-alcoholic · 5 days ago

Text

Part 2 as promised.

Part 1

CW: Dead dove don’t eat, assault, mentions of SA, torture, suicidal thoughts, hurt/comfort.

_____________________

Ghost flicks the ash off his cigarette.

“Do we know who we’re looking for?" Gaz asks. It's a pointless question. They know who they’re looking for. You’ve been mentioning a guy at work who has been getting a little too handsy.

You were going to confront him in the new year with your boss. You didn’t want to ruin anyone's Christmas, now yours is ruined.

People are starting to leave the office building now, it’s just past midnight. They watch in silence concealed in the darkness down an alleyway a few buildings from your workplace. Maybe this was the alley you were found down. It’s dark and cold, the businesses are all closed, it would have been easy to coerce you down, it makes his stomach drop. Someone hurt you, he hurt you.

“Should have taken care of this sooner.” Gaz says. Ghost just hums watching as the lights in the buildings go off. The last few people are filtering out the building. Ghost straightens up flicking his cigarette but to the floor.

“That’s him.” Ghost says, blowing out the smoke before reaching up to pull the familiar balaclava down over his face.

_____________________

When the police arrive you feel somewhat sober. Your body is sore, your head throbbing. Seeing them walk in with all their gear makes you nervous. All of a sudden you feel like you’ve done something wrong.

Johnny never leaves your side, he holds your hand stroking it with his thumb while the female officer asks you questions you don’t know how to answer. You still can’t remember what happened. You can piece it together though, you can tell by the hushed voices and the somber looks from people.

The worst is the pain, the ache in your body every time you move, the bruises hurt the most. Sometimes Johnny runs his fingers over them, his eyes going dark and he lets out a sigh. John stands at the end of the bed still, his gaze never leaves you unless someone enters the room. You just want to go home.

The most embarrassing part is when they have to take pictures of your injuries. Your swollen eye is now turning black and blue. There’s bruises around your neck, talking hurts, swallowing’s worse. The nurse gives you more painkillers but it just makes you feel sick.

John talks with the officers and the nurse after they’re done. Johnny tries to keep your attention on him. You feel embarrassed, the nurse said they did a rape kit, you don’t even remember that, the police need to take it for evidence. That makes silent tears come, you can’t stop them.

“C’mon, none of that love.” Johnny says reaching up to brush them away.

“I want to go home,” you sob.

“We’ll be home soon, promise,” he smiles. You want a shower, you want to scrub your body clean. You feel dirty, your stomach is turning as your mind wanders to the unthinkable. You hope you never remember what happened, you fear you won’t be so lucky.

_____________________

Ghost’s fist meets his cheek, his nose is broken, his jaw will be next. Not now though, now they need him to talk.

“Price says he’s on his way.” Gaz says as he walks back over to him. “Asked you not to kill him.” Ghost just grunts.

Ryan, that's his name. You never mentioned that to them, you didn’t mention much just that he was making you uncomfortable. Gaz was right they should have dealt with this sooner. They shouldn’t have let you go to the party alone. Even before you left you had reservations.

Ryan hasn’t said much. He was very drunk when they picked him up. He seems pretty sober now, he’s scared.

Good, he should be.

Ghost wonders if you were scared, when you were assaulted. It doesn’t seem like you remember much, for your sake he hopes it stays that way.

The door to the secluded warehouse opens, the sound of slamming metal echoes in the space. John bought this place a few months ago, used to store scrap metal. The place still smells of rust, but it’s outside the city center, it’s quiet and that's all they need.

Price walks over coming out of the darkness. He doesn’t say a word, just takes in the scene. Ryan looks up, his eyes glued on the new person walking up to him. Price grabs the back of a chair and places it in front of him before sitting down.

“Ryan, right?” He asks. The man nods. “Had a good night? He doesn’t move.

“Do you like your job?” He nods again. Price leans forward. “So, let's have a chat about what happened tonight.”

“Nothing happened tonight,” he says, swallowing hard. Price smiles at him for a second before sitting back up.

“Let’s try that again. What happened at the party?” Ryan looks confused for a second. Blood is still dripping from his nose, Price sighs this is going to be a long night.

“Wait, is this all about her?” He asks looking up past Price at Ghost. “Look I don’t know what you think happened but she came onto me.”

Price hums his hands gripping his thighs before getting up and moving the chair away. “Thing is, I just don’t believe you.” Ghost steps back over to him.

“I’m telling the truth.” He pleads.

“Nope, try again.” Price says. Ghost’s fist crashes into Ryans face. His head snaps uncomfortably, he spits blood coughing.

“So what happened at the party?” Price asks again.

“Who the fuck even are you!?” He shouts looking round at the 3 men standing in front of him.

“That doesn’t matter.” Price says, Ryan scoffs spitting again.

“Why do you care?” He asks, looking around at everyone.

“It’s a simple question.” Price says bending down so his head is level with his face. “We can be here all night. Or you can be honest with us.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, there’s a shake in his voice. The adrenaline and alcohol pumping through his system is filling him with confidence. They have to break that first. Price sighs moving back to stand with Gaz.

This time Ghost’s fist slams into his stomach. He buckles over in pain, crying out as he pants. Price doesn’t wait, striding over to him grabbing his hair, pulling his head back.

“Okay, okay. But she was drunk!” He shouts, trying to fight Price’s grip. His arms and legs are tied to the chair. Price doesn’t let go of his head holding it back as far as it will go.

“No. Try again.” Price says through gritted teeth.

“I didn't do anything!” He says between breaths. Price looks up at Ghost and nods, Ghost unfolds his arms going back over to the car.

“We can make this very uncomfortable for you. All we need is the truth.” Price says, pulling his head again.

“I don’t know anything.” There’s a whimper in his voice, a crack in his confidence. They're getting there. Price forces his head straight as Ghost comes back over to them twirling the knife in his hand. Ryans eyes go wide, his arms and legs pulling on the restraints. Price keeps his grip firm on his head forcing him to look at Ghost’s hulking figure moving towards him.

“Last chance.” Price says. Ryan doesn’t say anything, his eyes still locked onto Ghost.

“I-I didn't-” He sucks in a breath of air swallowing. “She was drunk!”

Price sighs, shaking his head. He looks up at Ghost, he can see the disgust behind his lieutenants eyes.

Ghost plunges the knife into his thigh. Price lets go of Rhyn’s head as he screams.

_____________________

John left almost an hour ago. Johnny recommended a bath instead of a shower, so you could soak and warm up. He gets in the bath with you pulling your back up against his chest as you sit between his legs. The bath was a good idea, the water is almost too hot but you don’t mind.

It feels good to be in Johnny’s arms. He helps you rub soap over your body. He’s gentle, pressing kisses on your shoulders avoiding your neck. You sigh, relaxing back into him. Your head is still stuffy, it feels like you’ve been run over by a truck.

“Where is everyone?” You ask.

“Out, they’ll be back soon don’t worry.” He says his voice is warm in your ear. His arms squeeze you closer to him. The memories of the night seem to be just out of reach, you remember a face though.

“I know who it was,” you say your voice catches in your throat.

“Shh, we don’t have to talk about it.” His hand comes to push hair behind your ear. You smile, you don’t want to talk about it but maybe it will help.

“I have work tomorrow.” Your stomach sinks. The thought of going back to that place with him there. Having to spend the days avoiding him, brushing off his hands as they squeeze your ass or his fingers press against your breasts. You were going to talk to your boss about him in the new year.

“No you don’t, don’t worry about anything.” He says kissing your shoulder again. You shiver, the water has lost its heat. Johnny shifts pushing you forward.

“C’mon let’s get you into bed. You’ll feel better after a good sleep.” You don’t know if you believe him but he gets out the bath leaving you alone and cold. You feel dirty, used. You feel panic rising in your chest. As soon as you hear the door to the room open you lay down in the tub closing your eyes and holding your breath.

Your mind goes back to the alley, it’s like flashes in your vision, the dump trash bin you’re uncomfortably bent over. A hand over your mouth then round your neck. The pain, the pain is unbelievable. You don’t remember how it happened, how you ended up there, the next thing you remember is a party of drunk women finding you. Then the paramedics showed up.

Your lungs burn but you don’t care. You deserve the pain. Hands grip your arms pulling you up out of the water.

“Christ love,” Johnny says, holding you against him as you pant sucking in breaths of air. The panting turns to sobbing. He reaches, pulling the plug out the bath and picking you up in his arms.

“I know, love I know.” He takes you into the bedroom putting you down on the bed. You pull your legs up to your chest. Johnny dries you, rubbing you down while you sob. He brings pyjamas over, he helps you change, pulling the fresh clothes on you. You still feel dirty, maybe it will always be like this. You don’t want it to be like this.

“It hurts.” You say as he climbs into bed behind you. His arms wrap around you pulling your back against his chest.

“You’re okay lass, you’re safe.” He kisses the top of your head. It’s not, it's not going to be okay. You just hope whatever the others are doing they’re safe. You miss them, you want to see them again. You want everything to go back to normal

…

Simon crawls into the bed with you and Johnny. You’re asleep on Johnny’s chest. He shuffles up against your back wrapping his arm around you both. His hair is still wet from the shower. He kisses the top of your head. Johnny stirs feeling a hand grip his hip.

“Did you get him?” Johnny asks, his voice still sleepy.

“Yeah, we got him.”

_____________________

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bisuhq · 4 days ago

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you have something on your lips— mine!

includes : (mouthwashing) anya, curly, daisuke, swansea.

summary : the tulpar crew & kisses.

warnings : gn! reader.

ANYA

Kisses so softly, as if she's scared to hurt you

Her kisses are pretty chaste, especially in public (she gets flustered very easily with pda)

Her lips are usually chapped because of how often she bites/licks them. On the bright side, she loves wearing flavored chapstick.

"Hmm, is it sundae?" Anya's eyes widen in surprise at your answer, which is astonishingly correct. She touches her lips, before eyeing you suspiciously.

"Did you see me apply it?" She asks, wondering if you've begun to cheat in your little game of 'guess-that-chapstick!' but you just puff out your chest in pride, chuckling to yourself as if the answer was obvious.

"My dear, dear Anya, are you that surprised? I just know you that well, I've memorized all your chapstick flavors by now~"

She buys a new chapstick flavor to mess with you next time you kiss her.

Anya is a total sucker for forehead kisses, if you kiss her forehead she'll melt instantly!

It's also a quick way to calm her worried thoughts or to lure her away from the stress of her work. Just one peck on the forehead and she's better!

Of course one of her favorite way to kiss you is by kissing your boo-boos better.

Perhaps you even get (minorly) injured on purpose, just so she'll have an excuse to kiss you.

"It's just a papercut." Anya says as she inspects the thin slice on the tip of your pointer finger. You huff, shaking your head.

"But it huuurts!" You complain, amping up the dramatics to see her roll her eyes at you. She sighs, turning to fetch her first aid kit. She comes back with a bandage.

"I guess I'll have to patch it up then." She says, wrapping the band-aid around your finger. You wiggle your finger, impatiently waiting for the final part of her treatment. She bites back a giggle as she presses a kiss to the band-aid. "How's it feel now?"

"Much better~"

CURLY (pre-crash)

Kisses you like it's the first time and last time every. single. time. he's so passionate about his kisses with you- it's all or nothing!

Cups your face with both hands, kissing your nearly breathless, and when you pull away he always chases after your lips.

That being said, he's also painfully shy about pda, and get's a little flustered if you ask for one in public- but he definitely won't say no! He'll just plan a little revenge ("revenge" being an attack of kisses when you both get home).

"Honey," You coo, the sickeningly sweet pet name catching his attention like a dog being told it's time for a walk. You two were out walking around, shopping, when you decided to tease him a little bit. "Can I have a kiss?" He blinks a few times, before swallowing thickly.

"Right now?" There was already a flush on his ears, slowly creeping down to his cheeks. When you nod in confirmation, he'll take a step towards you, gently cup your face and press a kiss to your lips. When he pulls away, the blush has reached down to his chest. "Was that okay?"

Curly was answered by your giggles, and that's when he realized you did it just to tease him. He groans, "Laugh now, 'cause I'll be getting my revenge later." A lighthearted threat that you're sure will end just as sweetly as his kiss earlier.

Curly is a big fan of a good ol' back of the hand kiss too, especially when you two are out on a date or he's feeling particularly sappy.

One of his favorite things is when he's let his scruff grow out nicely, and you get tickled by it.

He's literally a menace, the second a giggle escapes you and he's reminded that it tickles you it's game over, good luck~

"P- Please!" You wheeze, begging, for a chance to breath, but Curly is having the time of his life hearing your laughter. Nuzzling his scruff against the junction of your neck and shoulder.

"'m just kissing you," He murmurs against your skin, "I don't understand why you're laughin'?" However when you threaten to take away kissing privileges he quickly pulls away, although a small pout on his face.

You'll have to push his face away, or else those baby blues will definitely make your defenses falter. "I... I'm serious, don't try anything else, 'kay?"

DAISUKE

One word: Addicted. Daisuke is addicted to your lips and he'd gladly let your lips suffocate him!

Will literally whine if you pull away, please just a few more- what? you two have work to do? just... just one more? He'll use his ultimate weapon: His big brown puppy-dog eyes!

Has a bad habit of murmuring praise about your lips when you two kiss.

"Your lips are so soft," Daisuke mumbles against your lips, lost in pure bliss at the feeling of your lips against his own, "how are they always so soft," he shudders when you let out a annoyed sigh.

"Daisuke," You try to interrupt, but he just keeps on murmuring your praises, doesn't even notice that you've pulled away and are now watching him babble on about how sweet you taste and how soft your lips are and how he loves how you let him kiss you and ho-

"Huh? wait-" He finally blinks his eyes open only for you to bite back a laugh at his confused expression. Composing yourself, you give him a pointed look.

"Daisuke, stop talking."

"O-Oh, yeah, okay," he nods, breathless, before gladly continuing the little makeout session.

He tastes like mango, perhaps it's his chapstick or perhaps he just eats a lot of mango but he 100% taste like mango!

Here is a little warning: Daisuke is weak to your kisses, and if you ever offer a kiss as a reward for him doing a task or something...

Well let's just say you'll have one eager man running around completing tasks and doing errands and showing up in between each one for a sweet kiss as a reward~

"Daisuke, this is getting out of hand," You say more to yourself than to him, looking at the monster you've created. He is currently trying to fix a pipe (much to the dismay of Swansea) in hopes of getting a kiss.

"Hm? What'd you say?" You wave your hand dismissively, offering a sympathetic smile.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," You might have to slowly ween him off your kisses.

SWANSEA

Claims he "doesn't need" such affections, but whenever you forget to give him a 'good morning' kiss he is 10x more grouchy throughout the day.

Won't accept any form of PDA, but in private he is actually such a sweetie, and loves giving and receiving affection.

Especially in the early mornings or right before bed, he'll gently kiss the palm of your hand, then your wrist, before capturing your lips. This is an essential part of your routine.

Swansea is relaxed on the bed, grumbling about what a hard day he had, when you enter the room. The stressors of the day slowly melt away from his mind as you approach the bed. "'m sorry you had such a bad day," You cup his cheek, but he shakes his head, leaning into your warmth.

"'s fine, with you now," he mutters, turning to press a kiss to your palm, before moving his lips to your wrist. His eyes flutter open, and it's clear he's hungry for more- he wants your lips. His hands find your body, gently pulling you closer to him.

No words are said as your lips meet, no words are really needed for the rest of the night.

(On the Tulpar) If he's being grumpier than usual, any of the crew (but particularly Daisuke) will find you and beg you to "talk" to him. You'll go into the room, and come out a few seconds later, and it's like Swansea is a different person. (Literally one kiss smh)

Likes when you kiss his cheek, secretly makes his heart beat a little faster. He'll grumble you're not good for his heart when you sneak up and kiss his cheek.

Actually he does get nervous sometimes because it can't be normal to still get heart palpitations from little kisses like that.

It was a simple kiss in passing, on your way towards the kitchen to prep for dinner, a quick peck to the corner of his lips, but it was enough to make him freeze at first. It takes him a second to recover, before he's clutching at his chest.

"The hell..." He grumbles, before looking up, his eyes following your figure. "Ya gotta warn a guy before you do somethin' like that!" He hollers, but you just wave your hand dismissively, a smirk on your features.

"Yeah, yeah, old man- when'll you get used to it, hmm?" Probably never, but he hopes that doesn't deter your future attempts.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

#mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing #anya x reader #curly x reader #daisuke x reader #swansea x reader #mouthwashing headcanons #mouthwashing imagines #mouthwashing anya x reader #mouthwashing curly x reader #mouthwashing daisuke x reader #mouthwashing swansea x reader

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areyouwell · 5 months ago

Text

Nyctophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness

Ch.1

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)

Word count: 9.2k

A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go

How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldn’t recall. It felt like it had been forever since ol’ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didn’t think he’d send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didn’t think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.

But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.

Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadn’t aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs you’d ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.

You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. “Hey Kitty,” you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.

“I’m so happy to see you it’s been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought you’d died and Charles wasn’t telling us, Logan didn’t think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought you’d just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!” She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.

“Well, I can tell you that I’m not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. And– wait who’s Logan?” Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?

“Oh, right yeah. A new teacher,” Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. “He uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor… sorry.” She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldn’t be more grateful. You always thought you weren’t ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt.

“I’m hurt, a girl’s gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?” you cracked a smile, Kitty’s face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought you’d be upset? You were touched. “Anyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped at–” You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.

“Welcome back!” you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically.

“Christ! You’ve all just knocked five years off my life!” you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.

“They’ve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, they’ve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,” You didn’t need to see Scott’s eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.

“Yeah well… they can be really persuasive.” She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly.

“It’s good to see you,” Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment you’d had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.

You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.

“Hey you,” you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile.

“Hey.”

“How long’ve you been here? I didn’t actually think you’d listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought you’d just shrug it off and continue your own path,” you were relieved to see she had listened to what you’d said two years ago. You’d urged her down this path, to find the school. You’d already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.

“Uh… about that…” you’d only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought.

But Storm wasn’t looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.

“Logan!”

Ah, you guess that made sense now.

Whoever you’d expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him.

Now you understood why he taught combat and PE… he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldn’t say it didn’t suit him. He was very… rugged lumberjack looking.

You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You don’t think you’d ever seen a grumpier-looking man.

“Logan, this is Phantom,” your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name.

“Ah, so you do exist,” his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.

“Heard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,” you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.

“Can ya blame me?” He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance.

“Guess not. You’re also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?” You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldn’t help grinning slightly.

“Language!” Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess you’d forgotten how to behave around the kids too.

Logan held his hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you existed,” though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldn’t keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.

“I’m kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m–”

“She’s being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!” Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didn’t know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless.

“So I’ve heard,” Logan’s eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.

“Though, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didn’t exist and all.” You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of.

You hadn’t realised how completely caught up in the introduction you’d been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

“Anyway,” you continued pointedly, “you were saying? So you didn’t come to find this place?” your head tilted again slightly in confusion. “How did you end up here?”

Rogue looked from you to Logan, who’s eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. “Nope, still confused. How did…?”

“Well, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,” she explained quietly.

“More you found me but sure.” He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. You’d heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charles’ telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if you’d returned.

“So, you brought her here?” You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how he’d succeeded where you’d failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level.

“Me? Nah, didn’t know this place existed at that point.”

“Seems to be a common theme with you,” you couldn’t help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.

“Never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Not whilst I’m still breathing,” you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. “So how’d you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didn’t know about this?”

“Tall, dark, and– what?” He asked, bewildered.

Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. “That would be us. We’d been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.”

You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.

“I see. Glad it wasn’t my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isn’t much better. How’s your mutation coming along?” you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.

“Still hard to control, but I’m getting better at it!” She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When you’d met her two years ago, you didn’t know if she even wanted help. She’d been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didn’t think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.

“I’m glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,” you gestured to the room around, to the friends she’d made, to the haven she’d found.

“Oh, my name’s Marie. Guess I didn’t tell you before.” She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying.

“Marie it is.” Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending… fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. “Oh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldn’t mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.” Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didn’t smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!

“Uh…” Storm started.

“About that…” Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.

“Your bed’s real comfy, bub” he smirked, and you gaped.

“You’re fucking kidding me?”

“Language!” both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.

“Fuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!” you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? That’s shocking behaviour from the both of you!” You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.

“Don’t blame those two” Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. “we didn’t have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, but–”

“The view was too nice to pass up on,” Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you weren’t so heartless that you’d take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.

“Yeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?” you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.

“You’re in the one above, still got the same view, don’t worry,” she elbowed you slightly. That wasn’t so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.

“Good enough, I’m still mad about it though.” Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.

Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. “What’s got you so giddy?” you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door.

“Oh nothing, just glad you're home. It’s been kinda boring without you.” You laughed at that. With everything that’s been going on, you didn’t think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless.

Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didn’t want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.

“I got it,” Logan’s voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadn’t realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.

For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless.

“Super strength?” Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly.

“Nah, not quite.”

“Then how the fu–” you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. “–uuun. How fun.” you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldn’t deny he was good-looking. You’d be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldn’t mind uncovering.

Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.

“Ah, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.”

You snorted a laugh. “No, you didn’t. You absolutely knew it was my return.” You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.

“As quick as ever. And I see you’ve met our Wolverine.” Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement.

“Wolverine? Seriously?” you asked, laughing at his shrug. “Can’t think why…” your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man.

“I thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.” You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.

“C’mon! You’re gonna love it!”You were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.

Logan had to admit, he didn’t mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasn’t the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasn’t the kind of guy to stare at a woman’s ass, he wasn’t mad that he was behind you.

Everything he’d been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything he’d seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour… it was all right there in front of him.

Literally.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? He’d only known you for half an hour and he’d displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here.

He was in huge trouble.

The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadn’t exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, he’d only known you for thirty minutes.

He had to remind himself of that.

“Here we are!” Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what you’d find behind the wood. He’d helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, that’s what he told himself.

You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about.

If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt he’d felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.

“You… Kitty, you didn’t need to do this,” You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant you’d nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling.

“It wasn’t just me! I employed help,” Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. “And others offered to help.”

Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder.

“You helped?” you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.

“Here an’ there…” he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room.

“Here and there? That’s such a lie! He’d heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!” Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didn’t even know you, and he did this for you.

“Kitty, that’s en–oof!” Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how he’d imagine it. Not that he had imagined it…

“Thank you,” you whispered earnestly, and any guard he’d put up previously melted away. He didn’t exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. “Maybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,” your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return.

“Anythin’ else?” He asked, mirroring your expression.

“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something,” was it Logan’s sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?

Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didn’t care, and somehow, you didn’t think he did either.

Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didn’t look like you regretted anything.

“I really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is… well it’s better than what I was imagining,” you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. They’d really outdone themselves. He’d really outdone himself. And you couldn’t help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. “What’s your mutation, by the way? You never said,” you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.

Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little.

You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. “I see…” was all you said, before it hit you. “Wolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!” You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion.

“Whaddya mean it made sense before?”

“Don’t think too much into it,” you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped.

“Yeah, alright Phantom.” He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. He’d been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone.

“Get it now?”

Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features.

You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck.

Logan’s lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. “Got it,” the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. “Kitty, we should– the fuck?”

You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. “Guess she left,” you shrugged. “Or she never existed.” That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since you’d felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man you’d just met.

He had to remember this was a woman he’d just met.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll uh, see you later?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk you’d seen countless times already.

“Sure.” He said, before closing the door.

You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. “What the fuck?”

Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What. The. Fuck?”

Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo you’d missed so dearly on your travels, you’d changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavier’s office where he’d just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t listened to half of it.

“So, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kitty’s, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.” He finished his explanation slowly, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had no idea what he’d just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didn’t have to.

Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. “You’ve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?” He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.

“Yeah, it’s like I’m holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,” you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. “So, I’m not like Kitty?” you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.” You’d almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail.

“I think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.” You nodded. You actually did understand, because that’s how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.

“My dear, that’s why we brought you back. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. It’s led us to believe that your abilities don’t stop at shadow walking.” He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. He’d mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more.

“Shadow manipulation, right?” You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew that’s where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation.

“Essentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heart’s content. In… theory.” She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.

“But in practice?”

“In practice… honestly we don’t know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.” You nodded a little numbly. You’d only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths.

Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. “Well, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. You’ve had a long day and perhaps right now isn’t the best time to be entertaining new ideas.” He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.

You couldn’t agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since you’d become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It… scared you. And you didn’t scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.

“Right. Thanks, Professor. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.” You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited.

Fuck’s sake.

Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You weren’t the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing.

You didn’t turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, she’d had custom-made for the print on the side to say ‘Phasers Forever!’. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug you’d gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. You’d made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits.

Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.

Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips.

“Phantom.” He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.

“Wolvie.” You smiled back, though you could feel it didn’t reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.

“You alright?” Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didn’t like seeing you despondent.

“Yeah, fine.” It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liar’s smile. That was something else he realised in that split second.

He really didn’t like you lying to him.

“Uh huh?” Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didn’t even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.

“I’m just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? I’m starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,” You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening.

Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didn’t have to see his suspicion. If you weren’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldn’t push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. “How was your meeting with Charles?”

Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.

“Yeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.” Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you weren’t always paying attention to what was going on around you.

For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising he’d given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.

“S’that why you look like your pet just died?” You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.

“Look, Logan. I appreciate it, and what you’re trying to do, but at the same time, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. I’m tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?”

Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasn’t expecting you to be so sharp. He didn’t know why he wasn’t expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. “That might’ve been the nicest fuck off I’ve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.” He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didn’t know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that.

“I didn’t mean–” You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this.

It had been roughly half an hour since he’d left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didn’t know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasn’t like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuck’s sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didn’t think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing he’d handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!

He’d just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasn’t any kind of fist knocking…

With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didn’t dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time.

“Before you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know it’s good.” You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?

Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. “Peace pesto pasta?”

You nodded. “Homemade, don’t forget.” Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. “And also beer so you physically can’t turn me down.” You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Homemade peace pesto, beer, and…?”

You stuck your tongue in your cheek. “An apology.” You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. “Can I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These aren’t the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress so…” you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.

“You were a waitress?”

“Yes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they won’t fall on your feet,” you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasn’t as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands.

With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.

“It wasn’t that bad, just uncomfortable,” you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what he’d just seen, giving you a look of ‘fair enough’ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though you’d done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine.

“I’m sorry…” you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. “The Professor told me something in the meeting and… rattled me, that’s all,” you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe.

“How did you not just break your jaw?” you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities.

“Not much can break it, considering my skeleton’s adamantium.” Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide.

“Wait, how don't you– ohhhhh…” It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. “Any other secrets you're hiding?” You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.

“You wanna talk about keeping secrets now?” He asked curtly.

“Walked into that one…”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself.

“You know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?” You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta you’d made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. “So, turns out, it’s nothing like Kitty’s. It’s not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.” You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. “Kitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, it’s not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,” you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. “It’s like, I’m holding water in my bare hands,” you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. “And this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,” your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. “How Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but it’s a constant strain… Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just… I don’t know. It scared me I guess.”

The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. “I uh, don’t really understand what’s scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?” he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.

You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. “Well apparently we’ve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but… I don’t know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk or–”

“Would you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,” Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence.

“Exactly.” You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who you’d only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. “Anyway, yeah, that’s why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,” You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.

Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.

You’d come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didn’t want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever ‘I’m so sorry this is happening speech’ he was clearly getting ready to spill.

But for the umpteenth time in the short while you’d known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. ‘To the inevitable’ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.

“It won’t come to that,” you’d forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Logan’s willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. “Look, I was pretty fuckin’ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savin’, but look at us now,” in complete honesty, Logan still didn’t think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. “He’ll help ya. You’ll get this under control. And it ain’t all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,” You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought.

Logan was right. That was a good thing.

“Well, we’ll see tomorrow. That’s when we really start everything. We have another meeting before we’re straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?” You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one.

Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time he’d felt like this toward anyone? He hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didn’t even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you.

“I uh… ya know I wanted to apologise too.”

Well, that caught you off guard. “Wh– wait what? Why? What for?” you couldn’t help firing off questions at speeds you didn’t know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features.

“You were right. I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.” Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance.

“Yeah…. I did say that didn’t I? I–”

“But,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. “That doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know ya…” Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you weren’t telling him to fuck off, that is.

“I– Uh, okay, sure… what d’ya wanna know?” you asked, hoping to fuck you didn’t sound ridiculous. If you didn’t, Logan didn’t seem to mind or care.

“You can start of by tellin’ me how or where you learned to cook so well,” you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. “Nah I’m serious kid, that was fuckin’ great,” Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.

“Kid? Do you know how old I am?” you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way you’d show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young?

“Do you know how old I am?” he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.

“I’d put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?” you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course… just for… science.

Yeah. For science.

Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. “Not quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.” Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. “Take a picture bubs, it’ll last longer.”

“B-but… how–? Y–? Hundred and– what the fuck?” You couldn’t get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. “Why you don’t look a day over ninety. You’re in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently… probably looking for their exhibit back,” you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down.

“Ya done?”

“I’ll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?” You asked, and Logan couldn’t detect anything other than genuine curiosity.

“Regenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but it’s around hundred and thirty,” he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. “So?” he prompted, and you looked up.

“So what?”

“How’dya make the pasta?”

You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a béchamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you weren’t so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didn’t have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day you’d had, or if that was just who you were, he didn’t know. But honestly? He didn’t really care.

As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you.

“Anyway, that’s how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.” You’d somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.

It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.

“I should probably–”

“Look, you should–”

You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldn’t find it in you to care.

You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldn’t blame the man. You’d been talking for hours.

Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.

“Thank you. For letting me talk for hours. You don’t need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.” You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?” He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasn’t about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasn’t about to admit he wasn’t pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way he’d stopped them from doing all evening. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, you’d noticed. That was almost exactly what you’d said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all.

“Sure.” Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, you’d run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.

But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after you’d disappeared.

Yeah… he was definitely in trouble.

#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #x men x reader #x men logan #logan howlett #james logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #the wolverine x reader #logan smut #logan x reader smut #x men wolverine #essa's works

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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month ago

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Daisychains III

Marta Torrejón x Caroline Graham Hansen x Child!Reader

Summary: You miss Caro

It's unusual to see you in kit.

You usually end up in your school uniform or your gardening overalls or the soft linen clothes Caro buys at home in Norway that are perfect for the hot Barcelona weather.

You've never had any big interest in football, at least not enough to wear jerseys outside of watching Marta and Barcelona play.

But this is your special Norway shirt.

It's not even yours, not really.

It was Caro's, straight from her side of Marta's wardrobe.

It hangs over your knees as you sit in the swinging chair with your reading book with all the little flowers in separate pots. You'd been reading to them a lot lately.

"I've got snacks," Marta says, approaching you with a little plate of homegrown celery and carrots.

She slots into the little space next to you, an arm over your shoulder as you lean into her.

"I miss Caro," You say," When is Caro coming home?"

"She'll be home soon," Marta says," She's still playing for Norway right now."

"But I want her home!"

You're whining now. Like wearing a jersey, this is unusual for you. Your bottom lips wobbles dangerously until you're burying your head in Marta's chest and clutching at her shirt.

"I want Caro!"

"Conejita, Caro is-"

"Caro!"

Tears fall from your cheeks as you curl around Marta, your snacks forgotten as she gently rests her hand on the back of your head.

She should have expected this really. You had grown attached to Caro now that she's around more. You crawl into Caro's side of the bed in the morning before school for extra cuddles. You let Caro do up your school shoes and give you the last kiss before heading into the school building.

You adore Caro and Marta should have really known that this separation wouldn't do you much good.

You crawl into Marta's bed that night, fast asleep and holding Caro's pillow.

"I didn't mean to make her sad," Caro says, wincing slightly as she gazes at you through the video call.

"I think she just got used to having you around," Marta replies," It's not your fault. She hasn't dealt with me going away to camp for a while now. I think she's forgotten what it's like."

"I..." Suddenly, Caro feels choked up. She hadn't expected seeing you like this with your sad, little scrunched up sleeping face would affect her like that. "Give her a kiss for me?"

"Of course. I'll tell her you wanted her to have lots from you."

"Thank you."

It's amazing how expressive a child's face is. Caro hadn't ever really thought of that before. Of course, there's Skatt who had always worn her heart on her sleeve and Estrella who always looked like she was halfway between judgement and pure boredom.

Caro has known Skatt for years now but she hadn't even considered the little faces she made. She knew, in theory, that everything Skatt thought was on her face but she'd never paid attention to it.

But now that you're in her life, Caro can't help but notice.

The image of your sad face with your downturned lips and the frown that stayed on your features even as you slept.

It's an image that stays with her through all the training and gym work and even as Caro eats, stubbornly stabbing the food on her plate with a fork.

It's an image that stays with her as she prepares to walk out for the match as well.

Little feet pitter-patter around as Caro weaves through her teammates and their mascots, shuffling through the line to get to her place.

She nearly falls straight over as something unexpected crashes into her legs and Caro whips her head downwards.

To tell off or to yell.

She hasn't quite decided yet.

But her words stick in her throat.

"Caro!" You say, hugging her legs and looking up at her.

"I...What are you doing here?"

You let go of her, taking a step back. "Do you not want me here?"

Caro shakes her head, getting down on her knee to pull you into a proper hug. "Of course I want you here. I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Caro. That's why we came. I'm even wearing your shirt."

Marta stands a little way away, a fond smile on her face as she sees Caro litter kisses over your face.

"You're not going over?" Mapi asks, Skatt hanging off her arm dressed like a happy little ladybug.

"I'm letting them have this moment. I've had Conejita cuddles every day for years. Caro's got a lot of catching up to do."

#woso x reader #marta torrejon x reader #marta torrejon #caroline graham hansen x reader #caroline graham hansen #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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tan1shere · 2 months ago

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Passion Painting

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: Was watching my show when I got a little inspired by an episode :D kinda quoted a line from it too because it was fitting. I'll make it bold so you guys know ! - I literally need this woman rn (or even a dom in my asks that'll be great too.)

Summary: you get a gift so you and Billie spice things up a bit ;)

Warnings: smut ! Scissoring 🥰 bills being a bit rough 😫 (i personally love how this turned out)

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug

masterlist

The door opens, hearing keys jingle. Billie was finally home and you had missed her all day. But she doesn't come empty handed. You had just come into the room, greeting her. "Hey baby, what's that?" She sets it down. "Well, it's an early Christmas gift from Claudia. She said we can open it whenever? Whatever that means." You tilt your head. "Do we open it now?" She takes her shoes off, looking at you. "I mean if you want to, she didn't say otherwise. So I'd say its fine." She smiles at you, going over to give you a kiss.

"Good day?" - "It was ok, bit slow work wise but apart from that it was good." You say, going to pick up the box wrapped with festive paper. Bringing it over to the dining table. "How's Finn and Claudia? Did you get much done today?" She nods. "They're good, and yeah a little bit thank goodness. Glad to be home, missed you." You go to kiss her again. "I missed you. Right lets see what we have here." You say, ripping the thin material. Reading the box outloud.

Confusion strikes you. "What is it?" Billie asks. You turn it around so she can see, reading out the words to her. "Passion Painting Erotic Art Kit." She makes a face of realization. "So that's why she said to do it at night time and maybe after a date. I was so confused." You look at her. "You wanna do it?" She thinks for a moment, smirking to herself. "What? Slather you in paint and fuck you? Without a doubt babe." You grin widely. "Sounds like a plan then."

Giggles echoed though the house as you open the front door and speed over to the kit. Billie close behind. "I've actually been thinking about this all day." You admit. "Oh yeah?" She comes close to you. "Sitting in your desk at work, clenching your thighs as I smear paint all over your body. Over your curves." Your faces were close to one another, inches away. You bite your lip, averting your eyes to look at hers. They were natural apart from a little liner making them look plump and inviting. You lean in to kiss her but she pulls back.

Causing an annoyed groan to leave you. "Billie." You whine. She chuckles. That fucking chuckle. It was menacing. "Why don't we make this a little challenge." Your head tilts with intrigue. "I'm listening." She goes to unbox it, waiting a moment before she speaks again. "Let's see how long we can go without kissing one another." - "What-?" She turns around. "Don't think you can?" You think for a second. "Fine, let's see who looses." She smirks. "I think we both know who that's going to be." Your eyes roll. "Yeah yeah." But her hand grabs your jaw.

"Such an attitude for someone whos about to get fucked on the floor." Your throat closes up finding breathing to be the last thing on your mind currently. You both spread the canvas out. But in reality, you're going to be the canvas spread out at the end of the night. She'd make sure of it. You pick up the paints. Gold and blue. "Which?" She looks at them. "Hmm blue." You hand her the blue. "Right well I better get out of this." You began, back facing her. Slightly bent over as you stand back up. She smirks to herself grabbing the zip at the top of your dress. And swiftly pulling it down.

You gasp as the air hits your nipples. Since the dress had no straps you went against wearing a bra. Now standing almost fully naked in your kitchen, you two had moved some furniture around so you'd have the right space. "Oops, well I mean now all you need to take off is that tiny. Tiny. Pair of underwear." You had to process how fast she was with the dress you almost didn't register her hands pulling the thin material of your underwear off. It was only then when you realized how cool everything got. A shiver running down your spine. You wanted to kiss that smirk right off her face.

But you couldn't, you had to remember the game. "Your turn." Her smirk stays, grabbing her shirt from the back with one hand, lifting it off her head. Hair becoming messy. She takes off her pants next because she too, didn't put a bra on. There was no need. But you definitely weren't complaining. Your eyes stare for a moment. Maybe if you focused on that and not her really, inviting lips you'd be fine. But God were you wrong. You just wanted to grab her and kiss her. You both stand fully naked infront of one another.

Your nerves getting the better of you as she stalks closer to you. The lid pops off the paint. As she hands you the blue one. "We have to put it on one another." But her words went out one ear and out the other. "Hey." She says getting your attention. "Focus baby." Your eyes meet hers, handing her the gold. There was still some plastic on it so she brings it up to her mouth, getting ahold of it and ripping it off. All while keeping intense eye contact. You were going to be dripping soon. And not with paint. Her lips come to the cap, popping that off and out of her mouth. She squeezes a good amount into her hand. "You're going to be so gold you'll look like one of my Oscar's."

You gulp back saliva, you were almost drooling. Even more so when her hand makes contact with your skin. The paint was a little cold, but her burning hands soon get rid of that. Your body starts to become hot. Nerves coming back more prominent. She rubs it all over your chest, moving down to your tits, having it around most but leaving your nipples free. She had plans. Her movements were incredibly slow, making you more needy. She made sure she got your whole body, minus the places she needed access to. Standing back and letting you take over on hers.

Your shakey hand comes in contact with her neck. "Nervous?" You shake your head. "That's not really an answer huh?" You couldn't look at her, you just couldn't. You were close to giving into everything how was she so God damn calm? Your mind races as you come to her breats, you were hesitant but eager to touch them. "Why so Nervous huh? It's as if you haven't touched them before, when we both know that's not true." She was getting you to break, to give up on the game. "You're making this harder.." You whisper out. "Is that so? Darn, I didn't even realize." You pout slightly. "Can't go on?"

You think for a second, shaking your head. "Im fine." You say as your hands move over the rest of her body. "So shy, sweetheart." You swallow. "N-no I'm not." Her brow raises. "Don't lie." But she softly grabs your hand, moving them over her body. "See like that, not hard is it?" You whimper. "You're making it hard Bills." Your eyes look at her with a pleading glint. "Shame." Her eyes look down at your body. "Think its time we have our fun." She says, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down on the paper. Letting her hands move to your breasts. She had the left a part of your neck blank, bringing her lips to it and kissing.

"Billie.." You breathe out, but she moves her hands and grabs your ass tightly. "Uh uh, say it correct." Your head spins. "Mommy." - "Good girl." Your eyes shut. Trying so hard to resist the urge to kiss her. "Mommy please." You say, grabbing her arms and moving them down to her waist as she begins to move her cunt on your own. Your first moan of the night slips out. "What? Are you all sad you can't kiss me darling girl? You agreed to the challenge no?" You zip it. Hating that you did agree to it, you didn't care anymore. You go to switch positions getting ontop.

"Please let me kiss you please." Her hands rest on your lower back as you desperately move your pussy on hers. "Please Mommy, need it so bad." She smirks. "I can see angel. You've never done that before I guess you truly mean it." You pout again at her, she was playing with you and it was driving you mental. Moving down to attatch your lips to her own. But she serves, loving the little frustrated whines you let out. "You're so mean." Her hand instantly wraps around your throat and in the blink of and eye she was back ontop.

"What was that princess?" Her grip tightens making your words float away. "Hm??" You try to talk but it's no use. "Exactly what I thought." Her hand grips your thigh, hoisting it up to dangle on her shoulder. Her hand remains around your throat while the other is on the paper, close to your head and surely leaving a handprint on the almost covered paper. Your body's making art. Surely a night to remember. Her movements become harsh making your mind race, your mouth hangs open at the feeling of both of your wetness together. She watches your eyes roll back, and slowly seeing your lids drooping.

"there you go, fall into subspace that's it. You beautiful being." You had no thought other than her, the way she was fucking against you. Absolutely no words left. Her hand stays firmly around your throat. Your bodys soon come close together. Your breasts touching, nipples grazing one another and that was it. That was all it took for you two to gush against the other. Her lips come crashing down onto your own, loosening her grip to hear your sinful moans travel into her mouth. She groans as she rides out both of your orgasmns. Flopping on you to catch her breath. "Wow." You say. "Wow indeed."

You had a nice soothing shower together, getting comfortable in your bed. Snuggling up close. Until you grab your phone. "What're you doing?" She asks. "Thanking that amazing woman for even thinking of this for us." She smiles, letting out a laugh. "Thank her for me too." You then smile to yourself. "You do know you lost your own game right?"

"A wins a win when you get to fuck your girlfriend and showcase it on a wall for everyone to see and know that you're all. Mine."

#billie eilish #billie elish icons #billie ellish lyrics #billie eilish imagine #billie #billie eilish smut #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fandom #billie elish moodboard #billie eilish x reader smut #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you

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blackenedsnow · 4 months ago

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unwanted(ish) company

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Reader

NOTE: New movie’s out! Really like how this turned out so I hope you enjoy!

SUMMARY: After foolishly summoning Beetlejuice, you're now stuck with the infamous ghost in your house. Good job!

PART 2: Here

You really needed to stop messing around with things you didn’t understand. At the time, it had seemed harmless enough—a bit of fun, something to distract you from the dull routine of life. The "summon a spirit" kit you'd bought as a joke had done more than give you a good laugh.

Because now Beetlejuice, the "ghost with the most," had taken up residence in your house, and getting rid of him wasn’t as simple as you’d hoped… you didn’t have the heart to do it.

“So, babe, what’s on the agenda today?” Beetlejuice asked as he sprawled across your couch, his eyes gleaming with mischief. He was dressed in his usual black-and-white striped suit.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Same thing as every day: trying to keep you from fucking up my house.”

Beetlejuice let out a loud cackle, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “Oh, come on, where’s your sense of fun? You summoned me, so clearly, you wanted a little excitement in your life.” His grin was wide, sharp, and just a little unsettling.

Yeah, summoning him had definitely been a mistake.

To be fair, it had been an accident. You hadn’t really expected it to work. But one too many mispronounced “Betelgeuse”s later, and the next thing you knew, there was a strange man with wild hair and an even wilder personality wreaking havoc in your home.

And now, a month had gone by, and Beetlejuice was still here. You couldn’t bring yourself to banish him. Maybe it was because he hadn’t done anything too terrible. Annoying, yes. Gross, absolutely. But nothing truly malicious.

Or maybe it was because, in a twisted sort of way, you had grown used to his presence. The house felt less empty with him around, even if he was an obnoxious dead guy.

“Hey, Earth to you,” Beetlejuice snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality. “You daydreaming about me or what?”

“No,” you replied flatly, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck. “I was just thinking about how much better my life was before you.”

Beetlejuice clutched his chest dramatically. “Ouch, babe, right in the ticker. You sure know how to hurt a guy.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up from the couch, heading toward the kitchen. Beetlejuice, of course, followed right behind you, his boots making a faint thud on the floor with each step.

“You know,” he started, leaning against the counter and watching as you grabbed a glass from the cupboard, “you haven’t actually asked me to leave. You’ve had, what, a month? All you gotta do is say the word a few times.”

You paused, fingers tightening around the glass. He was right. You could have banished him by now. But you hadn’t. You hadn’t even tried.

“Well, you haven’t exactly made it easy,” you muttered, filling the glass with water. “And you never give me any space.”

“Space? What do you need space for, babe? I’m the life of the afterlife. I keep things interesting.”

Beetlejuice grinned at you again, but there was something behind it this time, something less cocky and more curious. He was testing you, as if he was trying to figure out why you hadn’t sent him back to wherever it was ghosts like him came from.

You drank your water, your back turned to him, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the room. You weren’t sure how to explain it—to him, to yourself. Sure, he was obnoxious, loud, and a bit of a creep, but there was something about having him around that kept the loneliness at bay.

“Don’t you get bored?” you asked suddenly, setting the glass down and turning to face him. “Just hanging around here, doing nothing?”

Beetlejuice chuckled and shrugged, the movement casual. “Eh, beats being stuck in the Netherworld, dealing with bureaucrats and dead people whining about unfinished business. At least here, I’ve got you to keep me company.”

He leaned in a little, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Not to mention, you’re way easier on the eyes than the dead folk.”

You groaned. “God, you’re such a creep.”

“Hey, just calling it like I see it, toots.”

There it was again—that nickname he kept throwing around, as if he was trying to get under your skin. Normally, it worked, but tonight… you just didn’t have the energy to fight it.

You were tired. But at the same time, the idea of being alone again—completely alone—was even more exhausting.

“Alright, fine,” you said, folding your arms and leaning back against the counter. “If you’re gonna stick around, at least try not to destroy the place while I’m asleep. Deal?”

Beetlejuice raised an eyebrow, a slow grin creeping across his face. “Oh? You’re giving me permission to stay? That’s the first time I’ve heard you admit it.”

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t say I wanted you here. I just said—”

“Relax, babe, I get it,” he interrupted, pushing off the counter and stepping closer to you. His voice dropped, that ever-present playful tone laced with something almost sincere. “You like having me around, don’tcha? Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

You looked up at him, trying to come up with a retort, but your words caught in your throat. There was something about the way he was looking at you—something less mocking, more… genuine?

“Don’t push it,” you muttered, though your heart wasn’t really in it.

Beetlejuice let out a soft chuckle and stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No need to get all sentimental on me. But hey—if you ever want to, you know, really cut loose, you know where to find me.”

With that, he winked and disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing for reasons you didn’t quite understand.

You sighed, rubbing your temples again. Maybe you were losing it. After all, who else would tolerate a dead guy like Beetlejuice hanging around in their house?

But as you headed back toward the living room, the empty silence that had once filled your home didn’t feel quite as oppressive anymore.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #x reader #oneshot #keatlejuice #keatlejuice x reader #ask #tim burton #tim burton x reader

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ceesimz · 5 months ago

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the taste of victory

(blurb after golden key to the sweet life + pt2)

"I knew you would be here."

Still in her Spain kit, this time with a gold European Championship medal around her neck, the effervescent captain came bounding over, understandably still on a glory high.

The Euros was a tournament that had plagued her ever since that injury, but now after coming out of international retirement, she'd done it. The trophy belonged to Spain for the next four years and Alexia had every right to relish in that fact like it was her first time winning a competitive title.

"How could we not come all this way?"

You, also in a Spain jersey, but who needed medals and trophies when there are two children on each side. Alexia had both achievements, one can only imagine her joy.

"You won, Mami!" Anaís squealed, her lanky limbs wrapping around her favourite champion just like a koala. Oriol was a bit more reserved, as he often was, definitely taking more of his Mami's introverted nature compared to Anaís who was the exact opposite of shy.

"Finally!" Alexia laughed, watching on as you rolled your eyes at her whilst she crouched down, Anaís still attached, so that Oriol could join. "Thank you both for coming. I'm sorry you had to miss your party."

Back in Spain, your neighbours were having a get-together for one of their four children they had that were all around the same age as Oriol and Anaís. The party they were due to host was the talk of the town, with a bouncy castle and a swimming pool and enough food to feed the whole of Spain, but ultimately Anaís and Oriol couldn't turn down the chance to fly to a new country to watch their Mami win yet another trophy. This was a pretty damn good excuse to not only miss the party, but throw one too when you all get back home.

You had flown on your own to watch two of the group games for Spain whilst your children stayed back at home for school until summer break, and the, albeit short and rare, time spent alone with Alexia was a welcome venture as it had been a while since that had happened. But being together as a four, celebrating the one title Alexia was missing from her vast list of accolades, well there wasn't much that could beat it.

"Felicitats, Mami." Oriol, the soon to be four year old, mumbled into Alexia's ear with his little arms clasped behind her neck.

"Grácies, amor meu." Alexia whispered, scooping him up with one arm as she holds Anaís' hand in the other and makes her way over to you.

There was a look in her eye, one you had never seen before. It frustrated you to no end that you couldn't quite place it, but that was something that would have to be unpacked another day.

"Family photo with the trophy? It is tradition." Alexia grinned at you, only for Anaís to groan beside her. "One photo, chiqui, then you can go play. Put Vicky in goal."

To no one's surprise, it looked like Anaís was swiftly following in Alexia's footsteps, whilst Oriol seemed to be a budding artist as he never went anywhere without his crayons. The two couldn't be more different, yet they got along better than most siblings, even with a larger age gap. Wait for the teenage years, Alexia would say anytime you brought it up, only for you to flick her ear and tell her to stop manifesting it.

"Mami, why do they call you a dinosaur?" Oriol asked innocently as the four of you headed over to the ceremony stage, oblivious to the painful jab he'd just sent his mother's way.

"Because she is old, Oreo." Anaís giggled to herself, sticking her tongue out at Alexia. The midfielder stopped in her tracks, turning to you with a displeased face.

"Amor, take him." She murmured, quickly handing over her son before lifting Anaís up by her armpits and sitting her on her shoulders. "Am I old if I can still do this? Pequeña mona, you are so cheeky. I just played two hours of football and won, yet you still call me old. What do I have to do?"

"Buy me some new football boots and we can forget this happened." You bursted out into loud laughter at that, because the only person Alexia had to blame for that sass was herself.

"Bien. You cannot call me old for a year yet, only when I am cuarenta. Mama is just one year younger than me, she's old too, no?"

"You just earnt yourself a night on the sofa when we get home, Ale. Another achievement, congratulations." With a sarcastic pat on her back, you march ahead of her as she's left scrambling to make up for her comment.

Ever since the word relationship was properly introduced to you as a teenager, you would worry that after being with the same person for so long, speaking to them everyday and sharing the same space, that it would get difficult and cracks would form. That never came to be true, in fact if anything, the foundations of your relationship only got stronger. There were days when things weren't easy, especially with two young children, but you couldn't have chosen a better route to go down.

It really had unlocked a life of bliss, just as the golden key had once promised.

"Oye, get back! It is our turn!" Mapi shooed away Anaís as the younger girl skipped over to the trophy.

The object was currently in the hands of Ingrid, with Mapi at her side and their two adopted children stood in front. Not so long after Alexia initially retired from the national team, Mapi had hung up her boots altogether. Ingrid was still playing, a senior figure for Barcelona and third in line of the captaincy role, whilst Mapi had flourished in the role of a stay at home mother. The Norwegian had taken a short break to make sure their children, a boy and a girl who were siblings, transitioned well into their home, and eventually their favourite weekend activity was going to watch their Mamma play.

"Hurry up, León! You didn't even play! And Ingrid isn't even Spanish!" Anaís bellowed, jumping head first into a teasing argument with the Spaniard at the outrageous claim she had made about Ingrid.

With that came a momentary quiet moment for just the two of you. Or, with Oriol too, but he was tired and more than content to slump against his Mama and take in the world around him. Alexia glanced over at her daughter and smiled seeing her bicker with her chosen family, before turning back to you where you were lightly rubbing your son's back to help him settle in the bustling environment.

"I cannot tell you how happy I am that you all came, cariño." Alexia told you quietly, moving to stand side-on so she could face you and also see Oriol's sleepy face. Her smile only brightened at both sights, and she raised an arm to rest around your waist whilst the other settled atop yours on the boy's back. "It is always the best surprise in the world, seeing you three in the stands."

"We would never have missed this, Ale. You must know that by now." You said to her, nudging her lightly.

"Well, I don't want to put pressure on any of you. It is a big ask from me to want you all to fly out here, but you did it anyway and I will always be thankful for that. You must know that by now." She reiterated the phrase back to you with a coy smile, one that deepened as you rolled your eyes affectionately.

"So, how do you feel? Eres campeóna de Europa." You grinned up at her, bumping your hip against her own as she chuckled and casted her eyes down to the medal hanging from her neck.

"It feels like completing the final chapter of a very long book, mi amor." She revealed after a moment.

There it was again. That look in her eye.

“What's that?” You asked in confusion. She could only shrug and turn to look at her surroundings. Taking it all in. The moment feels very… final.

“I don't know. I just… I think this is it. What else is there for me to do?”

You understand now. What she's hinting at is as gutting for you as it surely is for her, though it's probably at immeasurable heights for her. Definitely. The realisation steals your breath at first, solely because of the prospect of it, until it falls flat and the dust settles immediately. Because, really, who are you to argue with it.

“Are we on the same page?” You wondered quietly, and her eyes glistened with that familiar shine in the flood lights of the stadium.

“I think we are.” She smiled, one filled with an absurd amount of emotional complexity. It holds all stages of grief, yet peace can be found in it that tells you she's known this for some time. For a brief moment, you wish she could have shared this discreet burden, but it's a habit of hers you've never managed to break and at this point, you don't think you ever will.

“Qué, Mami?” Oriol suddenly lifted his head up, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“Nada, mijo. Ven aquí.” Alexia gently pried him from you and cuddled him closely to her, her eyes closed as she rested her head against his. “Mami gets to spend more time with you now, mi tesoro, how good is that?”

“Sí, Mami. Tired.” Oriol muttered, turning to hide his face in her neck.

“Lo sé, Oriol. We can go rest soon, just a few photos, vale? Can you do that for me?”

Almost four years with Oriol, a further seven with Anaís, and the sight of Alexia seamlessly slipping into caring parent mode was still a sight to behold. She had just won the one title that had evaded her for her whole career, yet the only thing she wanted to focus on was her family. And that was what made you want to have children with her in the first place. All these years, all the trophies and titles and achievements later, and she hadn't changed at all.

“Ale.” You hummed, catching her attention as she looked back at you with a soft smile and glossy eyes.

“Sí?”

You paused, hesitating over the one phrase that had tumbled easily from your tongue since your fourth date with her. The hesitation wasn't a bad one, you were just stumped on how to express such an intense feeling. Three words didn't seem sufficient enough.

“I love you.” Of all the times you had said it before, this one felt the strongest. This one felt like it held the most meaning.

“I love you too, amor.” Alexia replied simply, though the slight quiver in her voice and the bob of her throat revealed she understood the gravity of it too.

“Te amo.” Oriol sighed, and you suspected the goosebumps on Alexia’s arms weren't from the chill of the evening nor from Oriol's breath on her neck.

“Te amo mucho!” Anaís hugged Alexia's leg after bounding over, placing an exaggerated kiss to her hip.

In one place, on the pitch of a stadium somewhere in Europe, Alexia had got it all. One of the most notable careers of all time in the world of football, and a family with enough love to keep each other afloat through any and all storms.

Her eyes were closed as she hugged both her children, and had you looked away a second earlier, you would have missed how she wiped a tear that slipped out. In an instant, you joined your family, with one arm around Oriol and Alexia and the other on Anaís’ back where she stood hugging her Mami.

“Come on, let's go get your final photo as a futbolista before you hang up your boots.” You said, kissing her temple where she hung her head to fully embed herself in the embrace of her loved ones.

It seemed like now was the moment it all came to a head for her, where every loss and victory, injury and medal, every sacrifice and gain, it all subsided and she was left with this one last memory of the sport she had given her life to. Truly, there was no other accolade she could collect. She had made every second of her career worth it, the only thing she could do now was reap the benefits.

There was no doubt in your mind that, in a few years, she’ll be back to the sport that’s in her DNA at this point, except as a coach with the same goal she had as a player. But that’s a future worry, because for now the only item on the agenda was to make sure the final photo of her career is one of carefree, unabashed joy with your children.

With one final wipe of her tears from you, she took Anaís’ hand again and kept Oriol in her hold whilst your hand lingered on her back, and led the four of you to where the trophy was calling her name.

“What does it mean to hang up your boots, Mami?” A quiet but slightly blubbery chuckle came from the woman you loved, before she sniffled and looked to her left at you.

“It means I am going to retire from football, mija.”

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagine #woso fic #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso community

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nichuuu · 1 year ago

Text

Beats Me - 6: Come As You Are

Word count: 8k+

Of course, there’s a chance to turn away from all of this—a chance to stop her hand as it reaches the base of your shaft, a chance to halt her in the midst of tiptoeing to place a peck on your neck; there’s a clear opportunity for you to end what’s happening right here and now—it’s all a matter of how willing you are to go through with this. While your brain screams at you to stop, your body says otherwise; you lift a hand to cup her cheek.

As you tell her, “Just for tonight,” a wisp of a smile appears on her face, and you wonder, What am I doing.

---------

A call from Kim Minju at this hour is never good news.

To give context: It’s one in the morning on a Saturday. Office workers and the youth above the legal age for drinking are patronising drinking spots, throwing back a couple of beers and basking in the euphoria that alcohol brings them. Perhaps they're using alcohol to cope with the stress of their lives, or maybe they're trying to numb the pain of recent difficult experiences. In both cases, emotions are running high, alcohol is coursing through their systems, memories are resurfacing, and maybe, just maybe, tears are streaming down their cheeks—nothing too out of the ordinary. If you were to receive a call from anyone else at this hour, you would've thought it a request to be escorted back home, or a soused friend dialling in to say incomprehensible things before truncating the call.

But for more context: Kim Minju has been the bearer of bad news since highschool. If you are to combine this with the information above, you know that something has probably gone down, and you’re the only man she can trust to help them. She never calls you on a whim; every call from her is a desperate cry for help.

As you stare at her caller ID on your phone that vibrates on the table like it’s possessed, you start steeling yourself for what is to come. You’re hesitant to answer, but basic human decency gets the better of you. You can hear the deafening roar of club music in the background when you pick up, and Minju’s yelling into the phone. Even in the quiet of your apartment, you can’t make heads or tails of what she’s trying to convey to you. Even as you holler I can’t hear you at the top of your lungs, she continues to blabber her intelligible words over the pulsing bass of that horrible song that’s playing in the background.

Then it suddenly gets quiet on the other end, and for a moment, you only hear the sound of your heartbeat crunching in your ears. When Minju speaks again, you can hear the wind blowing by in the background, your indication that she’s exited the club. Her voice rings loud and clear in your apartment.

“Eunbi’s driving to your place, she’ll explain everything,” she’s telling you. “She’ll text when she arrives, get ready to be picked up.”

The urgency in her voice drives you to acquiescence, and you throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants. Couple of minutes later, you’re seated in the front seat of your singer’s car. She’s running you down on the events that have occurred tonight, and the multiple mentions of Chaewon makes your heart sink further and further.

It was enough dealing with her in the band. That shrill frequency she could produce with that trumpet was often aptly used to deafen you whenever she could (she sat on your direct right so she could be a bitch with ease). The bowl she used to collect her saliva was often “accidentally” (the way she said that word with such bogus innocence really brought you to your boiling point sometimes) spilt on to the leg of your jeans when you walked by, her trumpet case “coincidentally” (again, bogus innocence with this one) be in the way of your shin as you tried to get to your kit. Her behaviour wasn’t the culprit behind your irritance towards her, rather the fact that her behaviour failed to reflect what she had requested for when the two of you schismed—a clean break.

“She’s thrown up twice now.” Eunbi’s tone is a mish-mash of frustration and commiseration, “She refuses to move, and she's been groped twice. We don’t mean to drag you into this, but you’re the last feasible option.”

There’s an odd feeling of nihility in your chest as the two of you come to a stop at a red light. In the band, you dealt with her on a physical level. But when Kim Chaewon and alcohol merge, you know that you’ll have to deal with her on an emotional level, and that somehow fails to engender any spite or frustration of the ilk. The silence that hangs in the car is unsettling in light of the confusing sensations you’re experiencing (and also due to the fact that usually chatty Eunbi is finding it hard to start a conversation in this atmosphere), yet you find that you’re poised.

“I’m uh… I’m actually your highschool senior,” Eunbi decides to input, “I used to go to the same school as you, Chaewon and Minju…”

You remain reticent. Eunbi takes the cue and returns her eyes to the road.

The bouncer almost didn’t let you in because of your shabby fit, but a quick wink and a, he’s with me, from Eunbi was enough to get him to let you through. You easily spot Minju amidst club-goers once you get in. Those long, luscious jet black locks that flow just past her shoulders and those large round eyes that always seem to be doleful quickly catch your attention as you wade through the sea of people together with Eunbi. She looks the same as she did all those years ago. She stands when you approach; Kim Chaewon’s slumped over the table they’re at.

“Thank god you’re here.” Her expression tells you that she’s been through quite the ordeal tonight. “I… I hope you understand that—”

She stops mid sentence when you hold up a hand. You understand that such a gesture is impertinent of you, but you can’t help it—there’s too much to process, too much to take in, and a club isn’t the best place to assimilate it all (or to find a lover, an ex lover in this case). Minju steps aside, and you take a moment to look at the sorry sight of your ex—face down on the table of the booth seat and an empty shot glass in hand.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask them. The two girls look at each other, then Minju tells you to do whatever it takes to get her out of here.

So there you are—contemplating on whether you should dump a bucket of ice on her or gently wake her up. Basic human decency gets the better of you, and you slide onto the couch next to Chaewon, gently tap the bare shoulder that’s exposed in her outfit. When she raises her head off the sticky, glossy table, you’re momentarily reminded of the countless times you’d woken her up in the same way when she fell asleep in the school library.

Then those eyes—half-lidded and swimming in tears—lock onto yours. The volume of her voice pales in comparison to the blaring House remix of the Barbie theme, yet when she calls your name, it’s the only thing you can hear. She shifts closer—close enough to rest her head on your shoulder, close enough for you to smell the vodka on her breath as she silently sobs against you; Don’t go, don’t leave, she slots in between those heart wrenching cries. Right now: emotions are running high, alcohol is coursing through her system, memories are resurfacing, and tears are definitely streaming down their cheeks.

Eunbi and Minju look on in silence. Eunbi’s lips are pursed, Minju’s eyes are somehow more doleful. Their looks are doing nothing to assuage the turmoil that you’re feeling. You find yourself saying things that you were never prepared to say.

“She can stay at my place for the night… I doubt she’d want to go anywhere else.”

They look apprehensive, but deep down—they know you’re right.

***

“Uh… Are you sure you want to present this?”

Chaewon looks up from her presentation script to give a simple, “Hm?”. You were scratching your head as you read over the vivid description of Kurt Cobain's death that she’d included. It detailed the nature of his death, the brutal imagery of small, tiny shotgun pellets blowing a hole through the skull of Nirvana’s frontman on the night of his suicide described in an unnaturally calm tone, as if people shooting themselves through the head with a shotgun was an everday occurance.

“I mean…” You were doing your best to not sound reprehensive, “I don’t think Miss Kim would appreciate the… Visceral imagery.”

Her look was one of innocence as she asked, why not, and proceeded to further justify her vivid depiction (her argument was that Lee Chaeyeon had presented on Aviccii’s death in equal vividness and your teacher enjoyed it). The theme of the presentations for the week was “the talented die young”, and she’d decided to talk about one of her favourite bands at the time. She was blasting their hit song Smells Like Teen Spirit through the speaker in her room, and you were finding it hard to focus over all that grunge (you didn’t tell her of course, cause that would’ve made her pouty for the rest of the day).

That was one of your fondest memories from dating her. It showed you her tenacity and her stubbornness in insisting that she was correct. It showed you just how determined and strong-willed she could be. You found that you could still recall every detail of that moment as vividly as she described Cobain's death while you watched her walk around your kitchen from the doorway to your room. Her hair is in disarray, the set of clothes that you’d passed her baggy on her slender frame. For the record: She knows how she got here, she knows where she is, she knows you’re awake, and she knows that you’re watching her. In spite of all this, her movements are calm, her hand taking its time to trail across your cabinets as her eyes slowly soak in her surroundings.

“You know, for someone that said that they wanted a clean break—you’re making things messier than they should be,” you can’t help but tell her. Her hand stops on the handle of your cabinet, her index finger affixing itself there for a minute as she lowers her head. With a sigh, you stuff your hands into your pockets and tell her, “Get out once your hangover wears off.”

You retreat back into your room to get some work done. When you emerge around lunchtime, you find that she’s taken liberties in your kitchen, a piping hot bowl of noodles sitting opposite her at your dining table as she silently slurps on a bowl of her own. You stand there for a moment, then you accost the eating space and stop just before her.

“Are you being for real?” You can’t help but let the revulsion seep into your words, “You’re telling me that your hangover has lasted this long?”

She’s unwontedly silent. Her pugnacious, bratty nature seems to have dissipated into thin air, replaced by one of taciturn and timidness as she stares blankly into her noodles. She doesn’t look up when you sigh and slide into the other seat, nor does she say anything when you start digging into the noodles that she’s prepared for you (you aren’t one to pass up on a free meal, even if it’s prepared by your ex).

It’s when you're halfway through your bowl that she finally pipes up, “thank you for taking me in.”

You go still for a moment.

Then you choose not to reply to her.

After washing up, you communicate to her that she has till sundown to leave your abode before you head back to your room. You know that she’s going to stay like that stubborn patch of mould beneath the snare drum in the recording studio when you hear her playing Smells Like Teen Spirit on her phone through the door. Once again, that damn song is reminding you of how tenacious and stubborn she can be. Those two traits of hers were really double edged swords for that woman.

Night comes; she still hasn’t left. When you exit your room, you find that she’s asleep on the floor. It seems that she’s found it congenial to sleep on the carpeted surface, even though the futon that you provided her last night is literally an arms length away from her sleeping body. Seeing her that way, you’re momentarily reminded of the times she’d stay over at your place while you were dating, and she’d choose to nap on the floor while you worked—even though the bed was empty. The reasons as to why she chose to do so are still unknown to this day—one of the many unsolved mysteries in your relationship, second only to why she’s being the way she is despite what the two of you have previously agreed on.

To be absolutely clear: the two of you know why you broke up. It wasn’t a case of a one-sided sudden change of heart; there was a reason behind it that you both understood (even though you did need a lot of time to come to terms with it). Yes, it was painful. Yes, it was unexpected. Yes, you did miss her for quite some time. But there wasn’t much you could do about it. She’d set her mind on the breakup, and her stubbornness and tenacity had her on wits end when you tried to talk to her.

Was there a possibility the two of you could’ve stayed together? Your answer—yes. Her’s—only God knows what goes through that confusing brain.

Once more, basic human decency drives you to do things you don’t want to, and you end up cooking a share of fried rice for her. You lay her bowl next to her on the floor along with a spoon before seating yourself at the dining table to eat. You’re about halfway through a video essay about some game you’ll never play when she stirs from her slumber.

She spots the bowl, then her gaze wanders to you. Silently, she picks it up and rises to her feet. Now it’s her turn to accost the eating space, except she isn’t belligerent, nor can you sense any hostile intentions.

“Can I sit?” She’s oddly genteel as she points at the chair opposite you. You’ll just end up sitting even if I say no, is your reply. She allows a soft, short chuckle before she slides in. You think about turning off the video essay, but then you decide to not let basic human decency get the better of you this once.

So with some random guy’s voice filling the air, you and Chaewon partake in your meals in silence. You try not to look at her, but you can’t help but throw a few glances her way as she eats. She decided to grow out her hair over the past few weeks, dye it auburn, and now it drapes elegantly past her shoulders like silky curtains. You can’t read her expression (though you never could to begin with), and you certainly can’t understand why she’s become so quiet. She’s trying to make you lower your guard, soften you up then launch some manipulation tactic is what you’re considering. You won’t put it past her to use a facade of milquetoast nature to try and break past your boundaries.

“I’ll be out by tomorrow morning,” she suddenly tells you. That was the first time you tore your gaze away from your phone for more than five seconds. How would one normally reply to such a statement? Oh, okay, seems to be one of the better options, yet you choose to go with, “Good, cause I’m not planning to overstay your welcome.”

Chaewon plucks a rice grain off her top lip. “But you’d let Eunbi or Ryujin stay, right?”

There you were, hoping that she’d be as timid and quiet as she’d been for the rest of the day. The nap must have gotten rid of the rest of the hangover, cause you can hear the haughtiness in her voice.

“Are we really going to have this conversation?” you ask her. The firm look she fixes you with tells you, I’m gonna run my mouth on you whether you like it or not.

“And here I was thinking you’re being a decent human for once,” you can’t help but mutter. “You’re fucking confusing you know that?”

She bristles in her seat. “You watch your fucking mouth player.”

You’re not one to take offence from such comments. Normally, you’d understand that in the heat of the moment, people can say hurtful things that they don’t mean. It’s natural, completely natural—the adrenaline, the emotions, the tension… All of it can melt together in the form of nasty words that spew forth from a person’s mouth.

But when it comes from Kim Chaewon’s mouth however… You can’t seem to find that sympathy in you. She knows that you’ve slept with your singer and bassist, she knows that they’ve had you more than once—it’s right for her to feel this type of anger (even though the two of you aren’t even together anymore), yet there’s no part of you—not even a single atom—that wants to take the time to try to understand where she’s coming from and why she feels this way.

“Player?” You don’t mean to sound as pissed as you do. “Player?” you echo again, just for good measure, “What gives you the right to call me that? I’m not the one who couldn’t wait for their partner!”

“It was two years!” Chaewon cries.

“Well you could’ve at least tried.” You’re not even bothering to filter your words now. “You’re a hypocrite for calling me a player when you couldn’t even wait for me.”

“Two fucking years! Do you really expect me to close my heart to love for two whole years just so I can wait for you to get out of the damn military!” The way her tone conveys how right she thinks she is pisses you off, “I’m a human! I need love! Do you really expect me to wait for it for that long?”

She’s on her feet now, hands on your table, breaths heavy.

She screams, “It’s your fault for signing on so early! It’s your fault for ever thinking that I’d wait!”

You shoot up from your seat and cry, “Well then damn me for ever trying to believe in you!”

Her face contorts into a snarl. She skirts the table, accosts you with her arm whizzing through the air; she slaps you across the face. As the sting lingers on your cheek, you find your fingers curling into fists.

“You’re horrible!” She’s hollering at the top of her lungs, “I wish that I never met you!”

For a moment, there’s only the sound of her heavy breathing. Then those eyes—bulging in their sockets and swimming in tears—lock onto yours. She looks just as she did the night the two of you broke up: hair slightly messy, face twisted in a mix of woe and fury, right up in your face as her face starts to flush under the intense assault of emotions and thoughts. She’s close—close enough to grip you by your collar and pull you towards her, crush her lips against yours, kiss you like she did when you were teens.

And she does just that.

A soft cry slips past her lips, travels into your mouth as she kisses you; It feels exactly the same as it did all those years ago—the meraki, the slight tension in her upper lip, the light quiver in your bottom lip—a familiar comfort you had no idea you missed. Her small waist is captured in your grasp, your face in her hands as she pulls you deeper, kisses you harder. It was like she never left, like she never walked away from you because you had decided to enlist in compulsory military service early so that you could get it over and done with, like she never said, seeing you on the weekends isn't enough for me, I’m sorry. This won’t work out the way you think it will. Let’s just end things off here, nice and clean.

And get this: the whole moment is sweet and all, but deep down, there’s still a small flame of anger alit within you. Even though you kissed her back with equal vigour, you were silently cursing her for making things messier than it had to be; while your hands run through her hair, you find yourself berating her in your head for making you vacillate between missing her and hating her. You aren’t one to be flippant, but Chaewon had the tendency to bring out sides of you that you’ve never seen for yourself.

Her tongue dives into your mouth, her hand pressed flat against your chest. She’s tugging at the fabric of your shirt, and you’re not sure if she’s trying to pull you closer or signalling for you to take it off. You realise it’s the latter when she guides you hand beneath the fabric of the shirt you gave her, your fingertips grazing the soft skin beneath it. Your palm rests on the flesh of her waist. Her skin was warm to the touch.

Your mouths part, and you’re quick to ask, What the hell are we doing. She takes a second to catch her breath, then she replies, “I have no clue, but I’m not stopping whatever’s coming next.”

Going with the flow—that was so her.

You grasp onto the hem of her shirt and gently pull upwards. She’s quick to respond, raising her hands above her head for ease of removal. Then her hands are on your waist band, tugging down at your shorts while your hands skim across her bare skin. She pulls your underwear down together with your shorts, lets them fall and pool around your ankles; her hand is quick to grasp onto your throbbing shaft.

“Chae.” You can’t help but whisper your pet name for her. She starts placing kisses on your clothed chest, her other hand resting on your shoulder while the hand on your cock begins to stroke it with consideration. She leans in and whispers, “Can we pretend like we never left each other? Just for tonight?”

A foolhardy request. She doesn’t know what she’s doing by asking this of you, nor does she care to consider the possibility that the fulfilment of this request can and will invoke unwelcome emotions in both of you. Of course, there’s a chance to turn away from all of this—a chance to stop her hand as it reaches the base of your shaft, a chance to halt her in the midst of tiptoeing to place a peck on your neck; there’s a clear opportunity for you to end what’s happening right here and now—it’s all a matter of how willing you are to go through with this. While your brain screams at you to stop, your body says otherwise; you lift a hand to cup her cheek.

As you tell her, “Just for tonight,” a wisp of a smile appears on her face, and you wonder, What am I doing.

Her hand on your dick leaves to join and assist the other in undoing her bra. She lets the intimate garment fall to the floor before her, her bare breasts on full display. She’s certainly grown more voluptuous as compared to her eighteen-year-old self, and with that change you find an increase in desire for this woman before you. Chaewon cups her tits with her hands, lifts them up, then lets go; she’s putting on a sordid show.

“Christ.” Christians certainly wouldn’t approve your usage of the name of their saviour in this abhorrent, impure context. “You’ve… Grown.”

“Puberty works wonders, no?” She’s taken on a playful tone, one that she was always fond of using while the two of you were dating. “Feel them. I know you want to.”

No sane man would ever turn down such an invitation. You can feel her erect peaks poking against your palms as your fingers close around the mounds; your breath hitches when you realise how firm they’ve become. Her hands join yours on her breasts, aiding you and squeezing and kneading while she lets a sigh leave her lips. Then in a whisper, she tells you how much she’s missed this feeling—your hands caressing her just the way she likes, your breath in her ears as you silently play with her like you used to.

Then she asks you, “Do you ever think about me when you fuck those other girls?”

You consider your words carefully. If you’re to be perfectly honest, there were a few times where the sight of Ryujin’s rippling ass cheeks made you think about her; sometimes the way Eunbi moaned reminded you of her.

But if you’re supposed to pretend like you never left her, some teasing would have to come into play.

“Depends.” You’re not even trying to hide how smug you are, “In what way are we talking?”

She gives you a look, one that says, you cheeky little fucker, but she plays along of course, offering a soft, Hm, as she pretends to go pensive.

Let’s see—she speaks as she (much to your chagrin) practically rips your hands off her body, all so that she can start circling you—Do their moans sound as cute as mine? Are their bodies as tight as mine?

She leans in to pop the final question: Do their pussies feel as good as mine?

For the record: No to the first one, a fifty-fifty between yes and no on the second one (they all had amazing bodies). As for the last question, you couldn’t say (not because you didn’t have an answer, but more because ranking them in terms of how good they feel would be doing all of them an injustice).

Dunno, is the answer you offer her, then you follow up with, “Why don’t we find out?”

She smirks and rolls her eyes. “Segueing—impressive.”

“I’m a laconic man,” you tell her, and, Oh shut the hell up, is her reply as she takes you by the hand and drags you to your room.

It’s crazy to think that just mere minutes ago, she was on her feet, yelling at you and telling you how odious she finds you; now, she’s on her back, her head propped up against a pillow, still yelling, but she’s telling how good you’re making her feel—Fuck, and, Oh shit is all that’s really leaving her mouth, but the message is implicit—as your tongue applies painfully slow strokes to her soaking pink folds. The hand that slapped you is now scrunching up in your hair, the palm that made your cheek sting pushing your head against her crotch while her toes curl into your mattress. You’re wondering if she’s intentionally pitching up her voice as she moans, or if she’s purposely dragging out her sighs, but it doesn’t take away from the utter sublimity of the act.

Chaewon’s slick is sweet; it’s tangier than Eunbi’s and tickles your taste buds better than Ryujin’s—you won’t tell her this of course, but it’s not like you’ll have time to communicate all of this while your head being shoved into her pussy. Believe it or not—this is one of the calmer moments of pussy-eating that you’ve experienced, one of the rare occasions where you actually have time to savour the taste of your partner, assimilate the intimacy of it, a far cry from when you were with Eunbi or Ryujin, where the goal was always to make them cum as fast as possible because that’s what they’re craving for. But believe it or not—even though her needy actions make it seem as if she’s desperately chasing her high, Chaewon’s really just trying to make the most of each and every swipe of your tongue, enjoying the way it skirts her clit and laps up her juices that leak out from her pretty, pink folds; all while she’s squeezing her thighs around your ears and begging you, Oh god, put your fingers in me.

You start with your index finger, using the pad of it to trace the outline of her pussy. Then—just to make sure that she knows that it’s going in too—you let your middle finger join the fray. Your digits graze the skin around her flushed lips, taking their time to cover ground while Chaewon’s reduced to a moaning, mewling mess. What you’re really trying to do here is test the limits of her patience, see how much teasing that small, tight body can really take before her will breaks. It’s a sadistic game you’re playing, but you know that she’s enjoying it as much as you are, even though she is practically screaming at you to stick your digits inside her already.

If there’s anything that this world has taught you, it’s that patience is often rewarding. In this case: Chaewon’s patience was rewarded with the fulfilment of her request. The moan that leaves her half-parted lips is one of satisfaction as you dig your digits into her waiting depths, and they soak in her juices for a minute or two before they start to explore. Her nails dig into your scalp when your fingers dig into the soft flesh on the roof of her pussy. Your name flies out from her lips in a tone of surprise, like she’s taken aback by the fact you remember the exact spot inside her that makes her tick. The smugness on your face says it all, really, and you start to stimulate that spot of sensitive flesh.

“Oh… Oh my… Oh…” She’s barely able to form the simplest of words. The pleasure you’re providing is racing through her body, filling her from head to toe with perverse need and taking over her bodily functions. You’re not doing anything fancy down there; your fingers are just wiggling against the same spot—a simple action that makes her body react in all sorts of complicated ways: twisting, trembling, twitching… It’s working wonders really. You’re amazed that she’s still as sensitive as ever.

“Look at you Chae,” you can’t help but deride. “You’re getting so fucking turned by fingers. I don’t remember you being this needy.”

Even if she’s hellbent on retorting, there’s no space for words to leave her mouth—the moans are filling the space in her throat, bottlenecking and filtering out of her mouth in the form of strained cries. From the limited view between her thighs, you make out the image of her biting down on the nail of her index finger. Meanwhile, the nails in your head dig deeper into your scalp, hardly caring for the fact that they may be drawing blood as their owner manages to beg, Keep going.

Your mouth—now rested enough to continue—rejoins the busy scene; the drawn-out guttural gasp that slides out of her mouth tells you all you need to know—Oh my god. You’re driving me crazy—and you can’t help but smile at the sight of her pleasure stricken face. Chaewon’s barely keeping it together at this point, the dignity that tightly wraps her body is slowly loosening—unravelling at the mercy of your mouth and fingers. The haughtiness, the sheer brattiness—crumbling under the sensations that overwhelm every fibre of her body; now that these perverse thoughts have entered your mind, you find that a dark part of you longs to own her, right here, right now. But of course, patience is rewarding.

You’re willing to wait.

To say that you’re taking your time to eat her out would be inaccurate. If you’re to be honest, it’s difficult to describe the pace you’re using. Inside of her, your index and middle finger move frenetically, as if you are using them to press the same key on a piano repeatedly to produce the same note—her moans. Outside her, your tongue’s movements are almost sluggish, the broad base of it dragging up her flushed lips before the tip flicks the swollen nub at the top. You’re fully invested, scrupulously ensuring the uniformity of your movements to drive Chaewon to perdition. The movements are neither simple nor complex, rather a middle ground between the two (but you do feel that it leans more towards the former), but it’s enough to drive her crazy. Even if she’s a complicated mess to deal with, deep down—she still enjoys some form of simplicity.

“Baby.” The way Chaewon’s calling you sends a shiver down your spine, stirring the emotions in your chest and letting some nostalgia bubble up from the depths of it, “I-I’m… I’m…”

Cumming, you complete just as her head violently whips back into the pillow. Then, in arguably the hottest ways possible, Kim Chaewon orgasms. Her thighs clamp around your head, becoming earmuffs as an onslaught of juices assail your mouth. You can hear her mewling past the flesh that surrounds your ears, and the muffled sound is enough to deluge your heart with depraved satisfaction while her body twitches, convulses and strains violently. The last vestiges of dignity that once enveloped her have fallen away, carried off by the sighs and cries escaping from her trembling lips, and as you lift your mouth of her soaking slit and withdraw your juice-slicked fingers, you know that she’s reached a point of no return.

Patience is truly so rewarding.

“Jesus…” she pants. Once again, believers probably wouldn’t approve of the usage of his name in this context, but something has to cleanse the filth from her body, “When did you get so good at this?”

“Always have been,” you grin. You can tell she wants to roll her eyes, but she hardly has the strength to do so. For a tender moment, you gaze into each other’s eyes and appreciate this moment of inexplicable intimacy, re-living the emotions that were once so present between the two of you. It’s just for tonight. After this, we’ll go back to fighting, you’re telling yourself, and it makes you want to stay like this for a little longer.

But when Chaewon flips herself over onto her belly, the warmth in your chest is shut out and replaced by warped desire. With the tender cheeks of her ass on full display, Chaewon wiggles her behind, inviting you to take your liberties with her body. You take a moment to admire how full they’ve become.

“Been working on it?” you ask her as you squeeze a handful of flesh.

“To the best of my ability,” is her reply, followed by, “you like it?”

Your reply is to deliver a soft spank to the right ass-cheek. She barely even yelps upon contact, a small grin on her face as she watches you spread the flesh apart to reveal her entrances. Then she urges you, “Come on now… Pick a hole, fuck it till you fill it with your cum.”

“What if I want both?” You can’t help but be a little cheeky. Chaewon’s bottom lip furls behind her front teeth.

“I’m not stopping you,” she whispers, “just promise me to cum in me.”

Not a trace of dignity in her words.

Alright, is what you tell her before your head slips inside of her pussy. You can pinpoint the exact moment where her body almost becomes the only thing to exist in your mind—it’s when those walls clamp down around your shaft, pulsing ever so slightly and still twitching from her orgasm, and it’s enough to make you clench all your muscles while you hilt yourself in her. The sigh you let out hardly synchronises with Chaewon’s gasp. Yet, you find that your thoughts are perfectly in sync as your hands grip onto her small waist, and she props herself up on her elbows and knees. Her hair falls off her back, cascading down her shoulders as she turns her head, catches your gaze to tell you—Own this pussy.

No more words need be said. Eagerly, you begin to pump yourself in and out of Chaewon’s slick, tight pussy, her body tightening around your cock with every thrust in and out, lathering your length with juices that glisten in the low light of your room. The sound of her sighs and gasps quickly rise in volume, a beautiful backdrop to the sounds of your wet shaft penetrating her slick pussy again and again.

You’ve already lost yourself in her from the moment you stuck your member into her, but you find your grasp on reality somehow slipping further and further with each thrust you make into that amazingly tight body. It’s the nostalgia—that feeling of being able to hold her again, the feeling of being able to fuck her like you did on those nights after you graduated high school, those nights where her parents weren’t home and she wanted you in ever way possible—that’s making you sink deeper and deeper into this new reality that is Kim Chaewon’s body.

Then her moans start once more; you give in to the carnal emotions that you’ve been doing a really bad job at suppressing, and almost at once, Chaewon becomes the only thing that matters. Her flesh suddenly feels softer than before, her moans and sighs and cries sounding closer and closer to a melody than a haphazard arrangement of notes, and when she rasps for you to fuck her harder, you’re quick to oblige.

Screw patience, you’re going to take what’s yours right here and now.

Your hands drift up from her waist, grip her shoulders and pull her till her body is almost upright. Your left hand slides down, wraps around her flat tummy; your right follows suit—you’re practically hugging her. Chaewon’s arms reach behind her, lock themselves around your neck and pull her face closer to yours. She doesn’t turn to kiss you—that’d take too much energy, energy that she would rather put into moaning—so you settle on capturing her earlobe between your lips, sucking on it softly while she starts to moan your name. Then, her confessions start.

I’ve missed this, I’ve missed you… Oh god, I fucking missed the way your cock stretched me out. So good… So fucking good… This pussy was made for your cock.

Those were just some of the many things you managed to make out. The words were hastily assembled, phonics loosely strung together, and then expelled from those beautiful pink lips in a precipitate manner. There were other things like: I love you, I fucking love you and Oh God I love you as well, but your tried not to make to much of it. Even though you’re lost in paradise, lost in her body, your subconscious is still actively fighting to keep her influence out of your head. Things are already messy—both figuratively and literally—as they are, and the last thing you need is to fall in love with memories of Chaewon while you’re fucking her in such a callous, unrelenting manner. Sex and alexithymia towards an ex is never a good combination—yet here you are, rearranging the insides of Kim Chaewon after agreeing to whatever it was you agreed to before you started (it’s not because you chose to forget, but because you truly can’t remember anything past the point where you stepped through the doorway to your bedroom).

You push away the thoughts (for now), letting them exit your body together with the growl that you release into her ear—Chaewon, why are you so fucking wet?—as your shaft continues to plunge itself between her slick, wet folds. The cheeks of her ass ripple deliciously with each strike of your crotch against hers, eliciting a raunchy exclamation from her body each time she hilts you to the base of your cock. You’re not going particularly fast—Chaewon suddenly has the capacity to reply, I’m always wet for you, baby—but you’re so utterly deep inside her that it’s driving the both of you to perverted elation. The position compromises your speed, but you know for a fact that Chaewon is more than happy to make the trade off, savouring the feel of every inch of you filling her insides at a considerate yet fervent pace.

“Baby.” Her pet name for you is really doing dangerous things to your feelings, “Harder. Let me feel all of you, just like last time.”

She turns her head to meet your gaze, and it’s only then that you see the tears streaming down her cheeks. Your best guess: just like how nostalgia has its effect on you, it's impacting her too. Her emotions are being dallied with, just as yours are. She’s feeling things that she can’t describe, and she doesn’t know if it’s the rock-hard meat drilling in and out of her that’s making her feel this way, or if it's the fact that she may very well be falling for you again. You may never fully comprehend the intricate workings of human emotions, but as you lean in and gently draw her lips to yours, you hope to help her make sense of her feelings.

Why does she always make things messier than they have to be, your asking yourself, all while her hand finds your left cheek, gripping it tightly as your lips part and she whispers, “Fucking own me. Make this pussy yours, just like you used to.”

Just like last time, just like you used to—two statements that unwittingly conveyed that she’s dabbling in the past in a foolhardy manner. Damn it Chae… Why are you doing this? You’re thinking, even as you’re riotously making her bouncing breasts you handlebars, pinching her stiff peaks with between the gap of your middle and forefinger as you double down on her. You’re wondering, Why do you have to make this so damn complicated, as she leans back into you, and you mark the skin of her neck with your lips. Why couldn’t you just wait for me? Things wouldn’t have to be this way if you just had some damn patience, you’re pondering, all while she starts to throw herself back onto your cock. It’s hard to tell if she truly understands the emotional state she’s put herself in, you tell yourself. The irony of this statement is not lost on you, and you’re inwardly chortling at yourself as you pull yourself out of your own head.

You return to reality, and you find that Chaewon’s cumming once more. Did she announce its arrival? You don’t know. All you know is that her pussy is tightening rapidly around you, her body is shivering and shuddering against you, and her knees start giving out on her. You steady her against your chest, slowing yourself to a halt as you realise how dangerously close to the edge you are.

When she taps you on the knee, you take it as a sign to gently lay her back down on the bed. With her belly flat against the mattress, Kim Chaewon reaches behind her and spreads her asscheeks with her fingers. She gives you the slightest of nods; you pull out of her freshly fucked pussy, point the head of your cock at the opening of her ass, and begin to press forward.

Chaewon gasps as your head presses against her tight opening, her body refusing to let you in at first—but you press forward with your hips, slowly parting her entrance. Chaewon squirms and quivers as her opening slowly parts, and soon you are finally inside her. Her hands tighten into fists, scrunching up your bed sheets; a grimace of pain overtakes her partially turned head as you penetrate her ass for the first time. She lets a long hiss escape her lips, and you lean down to kiss the back of her head in an attempt to comfort her, bringing your left hand to match hers on the bed, covering her small hand with your own.

Soon you are halfway inside her ass, and you go no further, letting her get used to the new penetration. When you stop moving, Chaewon lets out a long breath that she didn’t know she was holding.

“You okay?” You’re checking on her out of genuine concern. It’s basic human decency, you’re trying to tell yourself, but you have a sinking feeling that she’s unknowingly broken past your defences.

“Fuck,” she spits, “fuck you’re so big inside me.”

“Do you want to—”

“Fuck no,” she snaps, “fuck, please don’t stop. I want this. I want you. I want you in my ass.”

The soft sigh you let out makes the hair atop her head flail a little as she wipes the tears from her cheeks. She isn’t crying anymore, but she certainly seems a little embarrassed that she let her emotions get the better of her.

“Keep going.” She can’t seem to raise her head as she speaks, “Fill me, please…”

Basic human decency drives you to compliance, and so you press forward—all the while, your eyes are affixed to the back of her head, your left hand still grasping hers while she shifts around slightly, adjusting herself to take you in better. The small yelps she occasionally lets slip tells you that she’s in discomfort, but not enough to make you stop entering her asshole. It’s too late to turn back now anyway.

It felt like years, but soon you're fully inside her, buried to the hilt inside Chaewon’s ass.

You slowly draw your shaft outside of Chaewon’s tightly gripping ass for the first time, and once it is halfway out, you slowly push back inside her. She's a quivering and squirming mess, and soon you are slowly pumping in and out of her body, your pace relaxed as you enjoy the tight, hot flesh of Chaewon’s body wrapped around your cock. You’re glad that the sheer sublimity of the sensation is removing your ability to think, allowing you to steep yourself in the moment with a turmoil free mind.

Chaewon’s tightness is overwhelming to say the least. Her pussy was tight, but her ass on another level altogether. Not as wet, of course, but almost overwhelmingly tight and hot, grasping you tightly with each entrance and exit like a glove. This would be the first time you’re entering her like this, and you aren’t sure if you’re doing it right, but soon she’s taking you in and out of her ass smoothly, the pain and discomfort of your initial penetration quickly lessening and giving way to the novel, new sensation of pleasure from having her ass filled.

Chaewon lets a short, sharp gasp escape her lips when you fill her to the hilt—one that takes her by surprise given the slight look of shock that you make out on her features. You reach down with your right hand, gingerly grip her chin and tilt her face up so you can get a better look at her face. Her eyes are glazed over now with pleasure, locking to yours as you start pumping in and out of her asshole. After a while her gasps lessen and then end completely as she becomes used to the hard length pumping in and out of her butt. She reaches up with her right hand to hold yours, and she pulls it down her chin until it’s at her throat. You didn’t know she was into choking, and she had never made you do it before. Then again, you’ve never had her ass before either—there’s a first for everything.

You feel her warm neck pulsing beneath your palm. She squeezes the outside of your hand slightly, causing you to clamp a little bit around her slim neck. The slightly reduced airflow at her throat causes her ass to clench even tighter around you: succulent pleasure to your mind that makes you think you are going insane. The novelty of fucking Chaewon’s ass, your hand around her throat, the carnality, the surprising tenderness of the moment–it’s all so damn overwhelming.

“C-Chae,” you call out to her. Her gaze flickers from the wall to your eyes, and you whisper, “Do you… Do you really want me to—”

“Just fucking do it!” Chaewon gasps, barely attempting to filter the want out of her voice, “Choke me! Cum in me!”

With her permission, you were more than willing to let yourself fall over the edge at this point.

Chaewon’s hand—the one that stops your hand at her throat—tightens, as though willing you to increase your grip on her windpipe. You are still afraid of hurting her—you already feel guilty for causing her pain and discomfort (physically and emotionally). But her hand on top of yours, clasped around her throat, dismissed any worry you may have had about taking things too far. Your orgasm beckons, and the hand around Chaewon’s pale throat tightens involuntarily with each thrust in her hot, tight hole.

Do it… own me—her voice is straining—Make yours again. Choke me while you fuck my ass… Use me! Fill me… Fill my ass with your cum!

With a few final, short, hard thrusts into Chaewon’s ass, you bury yourself as deep inside her as you can before finally letting go. Thick, hot cum spurts from your shaft into Chaewon’s willing depths, her hot, tight ass squeezing and pulsing around your cock as if milking every last drop from you. As you cum, your hand around her throat involuntarily tightens, and the moan that escapes Chaewon’s throat turns into a gasp—the dark part of you takes obscene pleasure in that fact.

Both of your bodies quiver and shake as the intense pleasure of your orgasm overwhelms your senses. It seems to last forever—longer than any other orgasm you’ve had. Nothing else exists for those long seconds, aside from Chaewon’s shaking body beneath you and the hot mess you’ve made inside her.

Your cock pulses a few final times as your orgasm slowly subsides and releases the last spurts of cum into Chaewon’s body and you regretfully come down from your high. After a few more seconds of treasuring the feel of the hot, creamy mess you’ve left inside her, you slowly draw your half-soft cock out of her body. Within seconds, white, pearly semen begins to leak out of her and onto the reddened, sore cheeks of her ass. Your eyes remain glued to Chaewon’s still-quivering form as she tries and mostly fails to collect herself. Slowly, she turns on her side, her whole body heaving like she’s completed a marathon. Her inner thighs glisten, your juices and hers flow down her naked skin. It's now that you remember what you agreed to before you started: Just for tonight…

“Hey…” Her voice has a lilt as she beckons you to her side. “Cuddle with me… Just for tonight.”

There she goes again.

Yeah, right... you sigh inwardly. The way she's looking at you tells you that the feelings brought forth tonight will persist as long as she permits. Maybe, just maybe, you should have turned her down, made her come as she was, and kept her at a distance; but she’s already snuggled up in your arms by the time you finish this train of thought. She kisses you on your jaw, then on your neck, then utters a soft good night baby before nuzzling herself into the crook of your neck.

Physically and emotionally, you've made a mess of her. And, in turn, she's made a mess of you too—physically and emotionally.

But you choose to forget that, just for tonight.

***

She slips out of your apartment at God knows what time, leaving like a thief in the night and leaving a note in her wake: I took one of your shirts. Will return it if I feel like it.

Then below the message: P.S. Forget that last night happened. Go continue being a player.

“I… Can’t believe this bitch.” You’re leaning against the door—the place where she’d stuck on the note—as you finish reading it. You decide to crumple it and toss it away—it’s the easiest thing to forget about her anyway.

To be clear: You had no clue what your opinion on Chaewon was anymore, nor did you know what your status with her was (though the note suggests that she’s going to return to her usual bratty behaviour). Sometimes, you wish that there could be a bright digital sign perpetually hanging above her head, providing interpretations to her erratic behaviour.

Yea… That would be great.

Just as you throw out her bowl of fried rice, there comes a knock on your door. You’re surprised to find Hwang Yeji standing there by herself.

“O-Oh… Yeji,” you mutter.

“That has to be the most asinine statement I’ve ever heard,” she derides. You purse your lips and scratch the back of your head, then you ask, “Do you uh… Need to borrow something?”

Yeji sighs and shakes her head. She’s quick to get to the point, “Are you free this afternoon?”

You nod, then she tells you, “I need you to follow me somewhere today. Meet me in the lobby at 3pm.”

She’s about to leave you with that vague request, but you’re quick to ask what this is about. It’s unwonted of her to suddenly request to meet you, and you’re painfully aware (or at least you thought you were) that she knows that this is unprecedented of her. Laconic and biting as ever, she turns back to you and tells you: I need you to help me talk to someone.

“W-Who?” You’re quick to ask. She turns her back to you as she answers.

“My junior. She wants to be our saxophonist.”

_________________________

What is popping gang. I did not get a chance to look through this thoroughly, nor was I able to get anyone to beta read for me :p. Hope you didn't have your bars raised to high for this.

~Nichuuu

#kim chaewon #chaewon smut #lesserafim smut #le sserafim #chaewon le sserafim #kpop #fanfic #writing #smut

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hellodropbear · 5 months ago

Text

it's time. (II)

mapi leon x daughter

yay for part II! (part I here)

trust even i'm surprised that i finished this over the weekend (definitely should not have because I definitely have too much uni to be writing this)

hope you enjoy !!!!!!

~~~~~~

It was an unfamiliar sight, Mapi in the training kit. She frowned at herself in the mirror, still not entirely sure that this was the right decision. It felt unfamiliar too. The sleeves were tighter than she remembered and the shorts fell lower than they used to.

Even Isabel seemed to notice something was off with her mother, clinging to her all morning and providing her with more hugs and kisses than Mapi could have asked for.

"Go out?" The toddler was confused, clearly. It wasn't often that they left the house straight after breakfast time, but she knew they were leaving because she was dressed up in her special red and blue shirt and her Mami had brushed her curly hair back into a ponytail, clipping any stray hairs back with her favourite fluorescent clips.

"We are going to training today, Is. Mami is going to play with your Ale and Leila from yesterday!" She mustered on a smile as large as she possibly could, trying to hide her anxieties and fear from the child and instead busying herself with slipping on her socks and some baby adidas sneakers.

"Patri? Pina?" She frowned, wracking her brain for the other names. "Jenni?"

Mapi nodded. "Yes, with them too-"

"Ingrid!" Isabel beamed. "She pick me up!"

"Ingrid will be there, I'm sure."

The toddler laughed in delight, standing up from where she was sitting on the floor, her shoes and socks successfully on her feet. It was only when Mapi stood up too that she charged into her mother's legs, wrapping her arms around them in a big hug.

"Don't be sad, Mami!"

"I'm not sad, Is." She picked her up easily, grabbing both their bags for the morning and walking out of the apartment. "I'm excited!"

It wasn't a long drive to the training centre, maybe half an hour. Isabel was easily entertained in the back, her lion captivating her in ways Mapi didn't think she would ever be able to comprehend.

But the 30 minutes was over too quickly and before she knew it she was walking back through those doors and into the changing rooms. She was early on purpose, wanting to avoid all the attention on her as she walked in also and wanting to meet the babysitter that the club had found to watch her daughter as she trained.

"She's 14 months old, she is smart though. She can say around 30 words and has a really good memory. She can walk well, climb up stairs if she's given the chance so please don't leave her alone near any steps because she is more than likely to fall."

The young looking girl nodded, her eyes flicking to the list she was given.

"She eats at 12?"

"Usually. There is a lunch box in her backpack, just start with the stuff labeled 1 and 2, then keep feeding her until she refuses. Usually she'll eat all the food offered, but if she doesn't want it, don't force it. Don't let her sleep if she gets tired because she naps at around 2 which is when we'll get home and I don't want to mess up the schedule."

The blonde nodded as Mapi looked her up and down, clearly judging whether she was good enough to look after her precious child.

She hesitated.

"Have you ever been arrested?"

The girl, maybe 18 years old, looked at her in confusion.

"No?"

"Where you a high school bully? Homophobic? Racist? Anything?"

She shook her head.

"No, no. The club hired me, I have all my qualifications and plenty of experience. I had to go through two interviews for this. I'm from the preschool just up the road, we volunteered and then had to go through a long process to be hired by this club. I promise, I'm a good person."

Mapi nodded, still seemingly unconvinced.

"This baby is everything to me. Ok? If a single hair on her head is missing or harmed, I know where to come looking."

She held the baby tight, not wanting to let go and the girl's eyes widened, cracking her knuckles out of anxiety.

"Mapi!"

Both Mapi and the babysitter's heads whipped towards the door, Alexia striding in and standing beside her shorter friend.

"Leave her alone!" She shook her head, before looking towards the girl in front of her and sticking out her hand. "Alexia. What's your name?"

"Camila. Nice to meet you." She smiled uneasily, still hyperaware of Mapi's judgemental eye despite Alexia's sharp words and nudge in the side.

"Nice to meet you too, Camila." She turned back to Mapi. "It's time to say goodbye to the pequena and go over to training. Jonatan just asked if you were actually coming back today or if he misheard because you're late. Don't restart that trend of being late every day, please." Alexia's was balancing on a fine line between desperation and leadership, Mapi well aware that she was trying her best to not be completely overbearing and bossy.

Mapi rolled her eyes, taking one last glance at the increasingly more nervous babysitter in front of her before looking back down at the clueless baby in her arms. She planted soft kisses all over her head, trying to avoid the tears from springing to her eyes.

"Ok, my Is. Mami loves you so much and I'll see you so soon. Be good for Camila for me, yeah?"

The baby smiled excitedly, clapping her hands.

"Mami!"

She wrapped her arms around Mapi's neck, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek and patting it once she had moved away.

"I love you, Mami."

"I love you too, Is."

She blinked away the tears as she passed the small child over into the arms of the stranger, trying to ignore the look of confusion that crossed her daughter's face as she handed Camila the backpack.

"Mami? Where go?"

"I'll see you very soon, my love." She struggled to look at her daughter as she spoke, worried that she would burst into tears and prevent her mother from leaving.

The centre back kissed the crown of Isabel's head as the emotions washed over her, promising she would be back soon and that everything would be ok. Isabel seemed to understand well enough, looking up at Camila with curiosity, poking at her face with her chubby fingers.

"Everything will be ok, Mapi. I promise."

Mapi nodded at her babysitter, leaning into the comforting arm that Alexia had placed gently over her shoulder.

"Thank you, Camila." Alexia spoke for Mapi, sensing her friend's emotions. "We'll see you in a couple of hours."

It was only when they left the room that Mapi allowed a single tear to slip down her face, quickly brushing it away to try and hide that she had become so emotional.

"It is stupid." She shook her head, looking away from Alexia.

The midfielder was quiet for a few seconds, trying to decide the best way to deal with this unfamiliar and uncomfortable situation.

"It is not stupid. She is your daughter, you are worried, this has never happened before. It is normal to feel this way."

Mapi shook her head, sighing softly.

"I have never had a babysitter for her before. You are the only person who has ever taken care of her without me there."

Her voice broke at the admission and she finally turned to make eye contact with Alexia.

"What if she hates it? What if she needs me and I'm not there for her?"

The midfielder didn't respond, almost certain that Mapi wasn't done talking; that these were rhetorical questions.

"What if it doesn't work out and she needs me for the rest of her life? What if I can never come back to football?"

Alexia sighed softly, Mapi's voice fading out a clear indicator that she was finished.

"Maria, you can't worry about things that haven't happened yet. You will figure everything out, I will help you." She lead the centre back towards a seat, subtly texting Jonatan that they'd be a few extra minutes late. "Isabel is a good girl. She will be good for Camila and she will be happy to see you in a couple of hours. And if not, we can figure something else out, we can find a new babysitter, we can think of something else."

The centre back used the heel of her hands to rub at her eyes aggressively, sighing and leaning into Alexia's embrace.

"I just worry that I'm not doing everything right for her. I want it all to be perfect because if Luis was here, her life would be more than perfect. He would have been such a good dad, and I can't even give her that."

The brunette observed Mapi carefully, using her thumb to gently wipe away the few lone tears that remained beneath her eyes. It was a topic that had come up often, Mapi's insecurities in comparison to her friend, but it was a topic that Alexia still struggled to talk her friend out of.

Because of course Mapi is a great mother, but Luis would have been a great father too. Mapi knows that more than anyone so Alexia can't just say that they will never know if it's true or not.

It would be an insult to Luis' memory.

"Just because you don't have that picture perfect family does not mean you are doing anything wrong, it doesn't mean you're a bad parent. Isabel is happy, she is smart and she loves you. It's all you need. And yes, Luis would have been a great father but there is a reason that he trusted you to have her. Biologically, Mapi, she is yours. Luis wouldn't have agreed to spending all that money if he thought you were a terrible person with bad morals, bad decision making and not a maternal bone in your body. You just have to believe he would have trusted you with her life. Everyone else does, it is just you that struggles to comprehend it."

Mapi was silent but Alexia hadn't expected a response. Maybe in a few days when she had time to think about the midfielder's words, which Alexia was sure she would; she always did. But they were so meaningful - her words, too meaningful to be able to come up with something to say right on the spot.

"Thank you, Alexia."

~~~~~~

Surprisingly, training went well. It took five minutes and a splash of water to the face for Mapi to face the team in the gym, but it took less than 10 minutes for her to forget about all her issues once she started training.

The gym work was stuff she had been doing for a year alone, but as soon as they headed outside and started playing, Mapi realised how much she had actually missed the sport. It was a part of her, she realised, and maybe she had been so down because she had been missing it for so long.

She was practically flying up and down the field, blocking shots, dominating rondos and shooting free kicks far out of the box.

It was like she was on a high, nothing would bring her down; nothing could slow her down.

And Mapi couldn't have been happier.

Alexia watched with pride as she slowly reverted back to the person she once was, boisterous, excited, happy. She was becoming the person that the midfielder had missed for almost a year and a half; the person she knew before her life was flipped upside down and shattered into a million pieces.

The person that Alexia had prayed every night to see again.

She hadn't lost any skill either, still the fierce defender who would put her body on the line if it meant preventing a goal and the entire team was shocked. Excited, maybe, to have one of their best players back after a slightly disappointing season. It definitely wasn't a secret that they had missed their key centre back.

Mapi was thrilled. Excited, over the moon. She couldn't believe how good just one session with the team made her feel, the complete antithesis of how she was feeling when she broke down to Alexia, in doubt of everything she had done over the past 14 months. It felt like the beginning of her life falling back into place and she almost drunk with happiness and pride as she sauntered back into the changing rooms.

She was the last one in, chatting away to one of the technical analysts about something entirely unrelated to football, so she was expecting a half empty changing room, most people heading out quickly or showering after the somewhat gruelling session.

What she didn't expect was for everyone to be standing and waiting for her, beginning to chant her name as she entered.

The tears that sprung to her eyes were happy this time, finally feeling like she was out of the long and dark tunnel, lost and confused with not a clue how she was going to get out.

But like most tunnels, the way out was right in front of her. So obvious but so frustratingly challenging to reach, such a long journey required to get there.

"Calma, calma!" She laughed as tears filled her eyes, a single pair of arms pulling her into a hug that was quickly joined by the rest of the team. "Vale. I love you all so much."

"Ah Maria gone soft!" Leila's teasing voice was easily distinguishable over the rest of the cheering and Mapi could only slap her lightly on the side as the hug dissipated. "I am joking, Mapi, of course I am."

Leila smiled too and it was then that Mapi noticed her glistening eyes, and when she looked around the room, she noticed the same thing in a lot of her long-term teammates.

"It is a family, Maria. Everyone is right there waiting for you to let them in."

"Everyone is there for you, Mapi. They love you."

"They were all so proud of you when they came yesterday, they can't wait for you to come back."

"They asked about you over the weekend, they want to know how you are doing."

"They want to meet Isabel, but they're worried that she's so small that they'll hurt her accidentally. They said they really wanted to visit you though, so long as I hold the baby."

Everything that Alexia had said to her about her teammates rushed through Mapi like a warm stream, emotions floating through the gushing water until Mapi was a crying mess in her cubby, completely aware of where the sudden emotion had come from.

Because the midfielder was right, they were a family and Mapi did have their support. Even though she asked them to stay away, even though she ignored them for months.

They were still there for her and the centre back knew that she would be there for any one of them if the roles were ever reversed.

Because they are a family and the love each other like sisters.

Alexia's arm was around her again, the familiarity a fire blanket on the emotions that were blazing through her.

"Are you ok, Mapi?" The midfielder knew the answer to her question before she even had to ask it, but blinked away her own tears as she watched her friend fall apart.

She wasn't used to an overload of emotions when it came to Mapi, usually just experiencing her naturally upbeat nature. She was never much of a crier, usually going numb immediately at any tragic or disappointing news, hiding her emotions to anyone around her and only breaking after she was sure she was completely alone.

She still was like that, but with Alexia it's different. Alexia is her best friend and has seen her through so many highs and lows of life that she is entirely familiar with Mapi's sporadic emotions.

Her tears in the locker room were not expected, but they did not come as a surprise to Alexia. Because the past months, full of challenges, of sadness and grief have lead up to this moment of pure and unbridled joy, something the midfielder had been desperate to witness for so, so long.

There are of course be hiccups, bumps in the road and dips on the rollercoaster still to come. It still would not be an easy road for the centre back.

But for now, she was on a high and that was all that mattered.

She had found herself again, out there on the field, right where she belongs.

"I am just so happy, Ale."

~~~~~~

"Isabel!" The small toddler's head whipped up to the door, spotting her godmother at the door, beaming as the midfielder strode towards her.

"Mi Ale!" She stood up from where she was sitting, waddling towards Alexia and wrapping her arms around her legs until the brunette reached down and picked her up, balancing her easily on her hip.

"How was she?" Alexia's attention was on Camila briefly, as the blonde stood up, a sheepish smile on her face at being caught doing role play with a toddler.

"Good!" The blonde nodded, only continuing at Alexia's silent request. "She was very well-behaved. We did some drawing, we played with toys, we played with blocks. She ate all the food she was offered and I think she is almost ready for a nap."

Alexia nodded, her attention back on Isabel.

"You had a good day, Is?"

She nodded giddily.

"Camila says I can come back again soon!"

"I'm sure you will." Alexia looked back up at the blonde who held out the small backpack. "Thank you, Camila. Mapi will be very grateful."

"It's no problem. She's an absolute pleasure."

Alexia smiled, telling the baby to wave goodbye and watching as she did so, before walking back out the door and towards the locker rooms.

"Where Mami?'

"We're going to see Mami now."

Isabel babbled away incoherently as they wandered through the facility until she spotted her mother in the locker room, excitedly poking at Alexia and gaining Mapi's attention.

"Mami! Mami!"

Mapi's head whipped up and her face dissolved into a smile, standing up and striding towards her daughter, easily plucking her from Alexia's arms.

"Hello my Is! I have missed you." She placed a soft kiss on the crown of her head as the child wrapped her arms around Mapi's neck.

"Mami!"

Mapi chuckled at her daughter's inability to say much else, instead just holding her close, grabbing her own bag and the small backpack from Alexia and heading out to her car, the midfielder close behind.

"So I assume you're coming back tomorrow?"

Mapi looked at her friend like she was stupid, a soft smirk on her face as she finished strapping Isabel into her seat.

"Of course I am. I'm back, Alexia. I think for good."

"I'm proud of you." She stood awkwardly, leaning on the side of the car, watching the blonde fuss over her daughter.

"I wouldn't be here without you." It was clear that Mapi was becoming emotional again and was trying desperately to not let herself fall apart again.

Alexia could see that, so she didn't do anything else or say anything else. Mapi was happy and that was all that mattered in that moment.

"Drive safe."

Mapi looked at her again, the same look of amusement at her friend's statement.

"I always do."

Alexia rolled her eyes, waving goodbye and walking over to her own car, her eyes still on Mapi as she got in. She was emotional herself after the training session, finally realising that her friend was slowly coming back to her.

It was after Mapi had driven away and Alexia was sure that she wouldn't be seen that she allowed the tears to fall freely.

It was relief, really. She was relieved that Mapi and Isabel really were going to be ok.

~~~~~~

Isabel was asleep in the back of the car by the time they arrived back home, and Mapi was able to carry her upstairs and into her cot without her stirring at all.

It was only after she had finished up with some household chores that the baby monitor went off, soft garbling coming from the nursery.

"Hello there Is!" She cooed at the groggy toddler, lifting her up out of the cot and rocking her gently.

She quickly ate the snacks she was offered, still sleepy when Mapi placed her into the stroller and headed outside and downstairs for their afternoon walk.

"Where do you want to go today, Is?"

The toddler looked up when she heard her name, shifting from her comfortable position, arms wrapped around her lion toy.

"Leon! Mi Leon." She held it up to Mapi and roared quietly, laughing at herself when Mapi smiled down to her.

"Your lion." The mother confirmed, leaving the lift and walking through the foyer of her apartment.

They were walking out when she heard someone calling her name, turning around quickly to see the pretty new signing, Ingrid Engen, walking towards her and leaving two large suitcases behind.

"Ingrid?"

"Do you live here?" The Norwegian was smiling as she spoke, although Mapi could hardly tell whether she was actually smiling or if her face was permanently set in the positive expression.

"Yeah. We live on the 6th floor." Mapi nodded, smiling but avoiding eye contact with the gorgeous brunette. "Do you?"

"I'm moving in today. 4th floor."

Mapi's heart had been steadily increasing ever since she heard her name, but at those words she thought it may stop right then.

"We're just heading out on a walk, if you wanted to come."

The Spaniard didn't know why she was asking, but the words just came out. She could feel her face flushing as she spoke but the Norwegian just made her feel so unbelievably nervous.

Ingrid looked down at her bags, then back up at Mapi. She blushed, smiling sheepishly.

"I would love to. I'll just run these upstairs if that's alright?"

Mapi nodded, moving towards the seating on the right to sit down and wait, her head in her hands as she went through all the reasons why this was a bad idea.

She didn't even know Ingrid, yet the midfielder made her feel a type of way that she hadn't felt in a very long time. She seemed so calm and so kind, someone that Mapi so desperately needed, yet refused to admit it.

Because she didn't have time to be a girlfriend. She was a mother first, then a footballer. Having a partner just wasn't an option, not when she was so busy with her current occupations, not when she already felt so guilty for handing her child off to a babysitter every time she needed to do her job.

She looked up at the sound of the elevator arriving, standing up when she saw Ingrid and pushing her pram over towards the door.

"So, congratulations, Mapi!" The Norwegian beamed and the Spaniard looked at her in confusion which prompted her to elaborate. "Today... you had your first session back since Isabel. That's what the others said, why they were all so excited."

"Oh. Yeah." Mapi grimaced. It wasn't something she was particularly happy about, considering she gave birth over 14 months ago and only just went back to team training. "I'm glad to be back, I definitely missed it."

"I can imagine." Ingrid smiled as they crossed the street, the setting sunlight catching her eyes and causing them to sparkle, something that didn't go unnoticed by the Spaniard. "It can't have been easy."

Not wanting to get into that now with someone she barely knew, Mapi changed the subject with ease.

"Where do you want to go? We usually just go down to the park and have a bit of a play there, but we can go somewhere better if you'd like?"

Ingrid shook her head.

"We can go to your park today and then somewhere else another day! I'm sure that your daughter wouldn't appreciate someone coming in and changing her routine." The Norwegian continued to smile, and Mapi became more and more sure that her face was always set in that grin.

She chuckled lightly at Ingrid's words, shaking her head.

"She wouldn't care in the slightest. As long as she has somewhere to run and play with her lion, she's happy."

"She's adorable."

Mapi knew. She knew she had a cute kid, one that people in the supermarkets would rush over to coo at. But her kid was so much more than that because she was smart and she was so loving. She had an excited personality and was full of so much joy that Mapi would wonder where it was all coming from.

She loved her child from the moment she was placed in her arms, but the excited and joyful person that Mapi was known as had been lost since her friends were killed in that car accident.

Isabel reminded Mapi so much of her old self, but she didn't know where it could have come from. The baby’s joy and excitement about the world was the complete antithesis of Mapi's overwhelming grief, fear and confusion.

And she knew that if it wasn't for the small baby that she loved more than anything else in this world, she probably wouldn't have made it through the death of Luis. Definitely not.

But Mapi didn't tell Ingrid all that, instead just nodding in silent agreement.

"She's a good girl. She's good for her Mami." The Spaniard looked down at the small toddler whose eyes were slowly drifting again. "She's always sleepy after her nap, then she'll be wide awake for a while at the park and usually will fall asleep on the way home. I'll wake her up when we get back, we'll eat dinner and then she likes to cuddle after dinner and that's when she'll fall asleep for the night and I put her down."

Ingrid laughed quietly.

"Very established routine?"

Mapi blushed furiously, smiling with a sheepish expression.

"The baby books all said routine was good. We fell into one and it's easy. She's easy. You know I took her to my paediatrician when she was 5 months old because she never cried?" Mapi laughed quietly. "I was so worried and searched up why and it was so scary that I took her."

Ingrid laughed alongside the Spaniard.

"What did your doctor say?"

"She said that Isabel's happy, that I'm doing a good job and that I should never use google to find out what's wrong with her." She scoffed. "That’s why I had to start reading things up in the baby books!"

Their laughter dissolved into easy conversation as Mapi lead them down the street, letting Ingrid do most of the talking, listening intently as she raved about her home, her family. She told Mapi that Norway was filled with countless fjords and mountains, lakes and rivers that gave the country soul, spirit and wonder. She said it was a hidden gem, the most beautiful thing in the world.

But Mapi disagreed, because how could anything be more beautiful than the girl that was stood beside her. Her eyes widened as the thought flashed through her mind, instantly averting eye contact and subtly shaking her head at herself.

She was like a 12 year old on her first date with their crush, and she cringed at the painful awkwardness that she made up in her head.

Ingrid listened as Mapi spoke about her home, back in Zaragoza where her parents and brother still lived, the Norwegian enthusiastic about visiting the Spanish city and immersing herself in the new culture.

Mapi listened as Ingrid complained about missing her cat and dog at home, and the Spaniard told her that she could meet Bagheera as a temporary substitute.

It was easy for both of them, despite the language differences. Light conversation fell lightly in English, google translate only proving useful a handful of times, though Mapi emphasised that Isabel could barely understand her first language, let alone English.

The sun was well and truly setting as they arrived at the park, Mapi laying out the rug and pulling her daughter from the pram right under one of the street lights that would prove useful in half an hour.

"Mami!" The girl squealed when her mother's face was finally in front of her, her eyes lighting up as she was placed on her feet, Mapi crossing her legs and sitting down beside her.

"Is, you remember Ingrid from yesterday?"

The baby nodded shyly, moving back towards her mothers arms, nudging her face into the crook of Mapi's neck.

"Don't be nervous, my lion cub! Remember, we are brave at heart."

"Lions, Mami." Slowly, her face peeked out from it's hiding spot, waving and smiling shyly at the Norwegian who waved back, a soft smile on her face.

She slowly moved towards Ingrid, holding out her lion toy and making a lion noise.

"She wants you to copy her." The Norwegian smiled at Mapi who had supplied the useful information, roaring softly at the small girl who giggled loudly and pulled the lion toy back into her arms.

"soy leon!" Ingrid couldn't understand Spanish, but somehow she knew what the toddler was implying, nodding happily as Isabel continued to babble in incoherent Spanish, entertaining herself by rushing between the two footballers who sat on opposite sides of the mat.

The distance became shorter and shorter, however, as the two footballers inched ever so slowly towards each other, their voices softening as the sky became darker and the space between them smaller.

The curly haired toddler fell exhaustedly into her mothers arms, dropping her lion beside her and cuddling up towards her mothers neck, successfully ending the ongoing conversation between the two adults.

"You are tired, mi amor?"

Instead of answering, she yawned loudly from her comfortable spot in Mapi's arms, Ingrid laughing softly at her tired face.

"I think it's time to head home for some dinner, if that's alright?" Mapi shifted nervously as she stood up, unsure if she should offer her hand to help Ingrid also.

Luckily for her and her decision making, the Norwegian stood up and picked up the blanket before Mapi had finished her internal debate.

"Of course!" Ingrid flushed crimson, her mind and body brought right back down to Earth, the floating feeling slowly evaporating as she folded up the blanket, an uncomfortable silence falling over the duo.

Mapi was right in her prediction that Isabel would fall asleep as they walked home, and Ingrid laughed as she noticed that the girl had passed out almost instantly when she was placed down in the pram, tucked into a blanket and hidden away from the rest of the world with a scarf that Mapi used as a makeshift curtain.

The walk home went quickly and the trio were back in the brightness of the apartment complex before they knew it.

"Thank you for taking me with you this evening." Ingrid smiled gratefully, pulling Mapi into a soft hug.

The Spaniard tried to stop herself from melting into those strong arms, but she was rendered speechless, her heart rate sky rocketing and her eyes closing.

She regained her vocal abilities once the hug broke, clearing her throat awkwardly and averting her eyes. Those green eyes were too much for the Spaniard, they made her palms sweaty and her heart beat too fast for her liking, so she resolved to just not look at them.

"It's no problem. Thank you for keeping me company. It was nice to talk to someone whose entire vocabulary isn't just limited to 'Mami' and 'lion'."

Ingrid laughed, and Mapi realised again that the sound of her laugh had the same effect on her as those sparkling eyes.

As they said goodnight and retreated to their own rooms, Mapi also realised she was well and truly fucked.

Because she couldn't date, there was no time.

But she had fallen for the Norwegian, hard and fast, and she didn't think there was much she could do about it.

"Your Mami is so silly, Isabel!"

~~~~~~

yay finished

I haven’t done much romantic writing so I’m worried that this will be painful for everyone to read (like it was for me) but let me know what you think!

if you have any requests please let me know, i will either add them in or write something about them at some other point (i have seen the ones that have been sent in and i will be writing them, just have to go through planning stages first)

i also was inspired from the olympics and have written a blurb of isabel as a teen competing in a sport (5 cents to anyone who can guess which sport) so please let me know if you'd be interested in reading it hahahah

and also let me know if you see any mistakes because i edited this all in one go and was too lazy to do a final read :)

(in summary, let me know)

have a nice day x

#mapi leon #mapi leon x ingrid engen #alexia putellas #ingrid engen #woso #woso fanfics #barca femeni #fcb femení #woso imagine

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papaya-twinks · 7 months ago

Text

italian blood - l.n

Warnings: Age Gap!

Pairing: Lando Norris x antonelli!fem!reader

Summary: Lando falls for Kimi’s twin sister

Kimi’s 20 in this, in order for his twin, y/n, to be 20 too. I also made 2025 into 2024 because idk what’s going on and it makes sense to me

part 2

You and Kimi were some of the closest siblings ever - going through each and every formula together, almost like a duo act. And now, with rumours circling of your brother joining F1, you couldn’t not be happy, but you also couldn’t not be hit with a tinge of jealousy. You’d been just as good, if not better, than Kimi, winning an extra F2 title than him.

“Ciao, Kimi, Y/N,” Charles said, seeing the two of you walk down the pit lane, suits hanging low in your waist, having just finished your final practice. “Hey Charles,” you said, waving at him, “a word?”. The Monegasque nodded shortly as you waved off your brother, following the older driver into his garage. “How’s it going?” he asked, watching as you slumped against one of the tables. “Merda (shit),” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he said, sounding reassuring, “it will simply take time. I’ve put in my word to Fred and Carlos can vouch. Simply putting an Italian in an Italian, well, eh?” he nudged you as you shrugged. “Surely that’s what you want, no?” you asked, eyebrow raised. “Mon dieu (my god), Y/N, the meeting is it a few minutes,” Charles sighed, “let us wait til then,”. And you did so, a few bits of small talk with some engineers before moving to talk to Carlos. And then, you were called in.

“Y/N, Y/N,” Fred ushered you and his drivers into his office as you sat down. “I’m sure you see the position I am in, yes?” he confirmed as you nodded warily. You weren’t quite sure what he was getting at, but nodded anyways, in order to speed up the situation. “We have a variety of options for Carlos’ replacement,” he continued, “Hamilton, perhaps,”.

Wow, he was really pushing you to the edge. “And?” you said, expecting for him to tell you the outcome. “We’ve decided,” he spoke slowly, “to sign you one year,” your eyes widened, “to see how you are,”. Scrambling out your chair, you nodded before rushing out the office, finding Charles. “You got it?” the Monegasque asked, eyes wide at your reaction. “You bet!” you shrieked, throwing your arms round your friend.

And shortly after that, a week or so later, Carlos’ departure was announced, but not your arrival. There was no doubt going to be a lot of controversy over a female racer, there already was in F2, let alone F1. The hate you already got for racing in F2 was hard enough to deal with. Of course, Charles knew, and you were allowed to tell a few people you trusted, such as your best friend, Oscar.

“Wait wait,” he shushed you after you explained, “you’re meaning to tell me…MY best friend is gonna get beaten on track by me?”. You snorted at his words. “I believe the words you were looking for were, ‘beating YOU’,”. Oscar raised an eyebrow, following you down the pit lane. “Well, before you join the dark side…or the red side,” the Aussie said, “stay here for a bit,”.

You scrunched your nose at his comment but followed him to his garage anyways, into the motor home behind. “Right, right,” he said, “you’re gonna need to come to this little dinner with a few drivers,”. You raised an eyebrow, “who’s coming?”. Oscar hummed, before counting on his fingers, “Charles, Max, Carlos, me and Lando,”. You knew Max and Charles, jabbing kitted a few times with Max, and you knew Carlos by extension of Charles.

However, Lando was not someone you knew. Besides, you’d never say no to food, who would? So it was arranged, you were going to meet Charles at the elevator before you left together for the fancy ass restaurant. Choosing an outfit that wasn’t too posh but wasn’t too laid back was probably going to be the main challenge. In the end, you settled on a pretty black dress and some platforms, and a bag to finish off the look.

“Hey Leclerc,” you saw your teammate waiting for you. He was wearing a simple shirt and dress trousers, so you were appropriately dressed. “Looking good, Antonelli,” he raised an eyebrow as he went into the elevator with you. You arrived at the restaurant a few minutes before everyone else, see if Carlos and Max in conversation as you sat down, smiling to them.

“Oscar’s on his way, and not sure about Lando,” Max said, handing you a menu. Your conversation was relatively easy and laid back, a few comments about the race before going onto random topics amongst yourselves. Oscar arrived and joined in with you and Charles. The only person left to arrive was Lando. “Finally, mate,” Charles looked up, seeing the young British driver behind me, wearing a white button up shirt, open at the top with a few necklaces, and black dress pants.

“Hey mate,” he leaned over you, before shaking Charles’ hand. You watched as his necklace fell in front of your eyes before he raised an eyebrow at Carlos, gesturing subtly to you. “Ah, Lando,” Charles sai,d realising Lando didn’t know of your job. “This is Y/N,” he introduced you to him, “she’s going to be the new Ferrari driver in ‘24,”. Lando raised an eyebrow, taking in your body and figure, before turning to Carlos.

“She’s your replacement?” he asked the Spaniard, as he nodded. “Right…” he turned back to you, “you have some big shoes to fill,”. You nodded, already aware. “Try to compete with you lot, then,” you shrugged. “Oh Y/N,” Max said with a small smirk, “you can try to compete with us, we’ll be lapping you,” Charles scoffed. “Yeah yeah, don’t get ahead of yourself, this is Ferrari territory,” he huffed.

You rolled your eyes at the boys arguing already before turning to Oscar who was on Lando’s other side. “Help me,” you mouthed, watching Charles on your right as Lando laughed. “You’ll get used to them,” he said sympathetically as the menu was handed to him. The dinner ended up going well, you exchanged number’s with Lando and got on his number. There was no doubt he treated you differently, but it was expected. He almost acted with caution.

“Add her to the group, mate,” Oscar said to Lando as you turned to them. “Well, it comes with a warning label,” he added your contact to it, smiling, “these guys are kinda loony,”. You laughed at his comment, you expected nothing less of the guys around you. “I’m sure you’ll fit in just great,” he nodded to you with a smile. “I hope so,”. The rest of the dinner was finished and Charles drove you home, dropping you to your apartment.

Lando was very nice, he spoke to you a lot, and made sure you felt comfortable, but you had to say, it was a pleasant surprise seeing a text from him already, as soon as you walked into your room.

You grinned at the texts, he was certainly very open to being friends, but the only way to put that to the test would be through racing. You were well aware, throughout other formulas, what competing against your friends could do to your bond with them, and testing the waters now with Lando would be too early. Your train of thoughts was broken by the sound of your phone dinging, a message coming in from your brother.

This was going to be interesting.

Shortly, the 2023 season rolled by, Max winning yet another championship and the seats were announced. Your brother, Kimi, was the new Mercedes driver, and you were the Ferrari driver. Of course, the hate was definite but you only used it to fuel you on and prove them wrong. And finally, you arrived in Bahrain with Charles and testing was to begin.

“The car’s good,” you said, not that you really had much to say, as this was your first F1 car. You were on your 15th lap so far, other drivers behind and in front of you, testing their own cars. “This is good, this is good,” your engineer said over the radio, “we need to box you for new tyres in the next lap, avoid Lando, please,” he said, making you look to your mirror, seeing the orange McLaren behind you.

You turned your head to your right, seeing Lando on your side, a small wave to you as he drove round, going into the next corner. You followed him, you knew it was testing, but a bit of racing wouldn’t hurt, right? “Y/N, what are you doing?” the engineer asked as you sped up, going round Lando on the next corner. You couldn’t see his face or anything, but you could almost sense he understood what you were doing and following you, behind you as he went down the inside on the first corner.

“Y/N, you missed the pit,” your engineer said, “we are not racing Norris,”. You huffed, it was just a bit of fun. “Sorry,” you slowed down, Lando’s car doing the same as he drove alongside you down the back straight. He held his hand up as if to say, ‘what are you doing?’ You shook your head, as if to say, ‘we can’t’. He threw his hand up, exasperated and drove off. You wanted to race him too, but maybe in the next races.

“Y/N Antonelli,” the interviewer smiled to you as you walked into the media pen. You smiled at the full name as he spoke more, “you were rapid on track, setting the fourth fastest time, just behind George, Charles and Lando,”. You grinned again, “Fourth is good an all, but we know a few of the better teams could be sandbagging,” you referred to Max without directly saying it, “and the car’s doing amazing, honestly,”.

The interviewer chuckled before he continued. “On the subject of Lando,” he said, “we saw a bit of wheel to wheel action between you two. This is testing, right?” he joked. You laughed again. “Yeah, well, he went down the inside and I was like ‘why not have some fun’?” you explained, “and he was alright with it, it was just joking around a bit,”. The interviewer hummed, “Is joking around really what should be happening?” he asked, making you raise an eyebrow, “did Lando even do it as a joke, or because you annoyed him?”.

That was the media for you. Creating unnecessary drama, as always. You didn’t say anything, your expression stoic and somewhat pissed. “Good racing, Antonelli,” a voice said behind you, making your cold expression break as you saw Lando. “Have some more of that in the race, yeah?” he shook your hand as you nodded. “Preferably when I’m in front,” you smiled as he clutched his chest. “I’m wounded,” he said dramatically. You shook your head at him.

“To answer your question, I think we both knew it was a joke,” you said triumphantly to the interviewer. This was going to be a very interesting season.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #f1 #lando norris smut

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sailorluna15 · 25 days ago

Note

Pitfighter vi x reader. vi is really cold at first and the whole thing is strictly physical but one time, reader tends to her wounds and she starts getting softer with her after that. Smut + angst if you don't mind.

-🍃

Thank you for being my very first request!

Let's get into it!

Pat, Pat, Pat.

Your face falls in defeat as your hands meet an empty mattress.

Why does she always do this to me? It's my fault, she always does this. I don't know why I expected different.

Vi always did this to you. Fucking you, using you for comfort, leaving you alone in the morning, and then acting like nothing ever happened. You thought you would get used to it, but you never do. Everyone tells you to leave her alone, but you just can't. You just can't.

With a bouquet of whatever flowers could find in Zaun, you stood waiting for Vi to come out of the pit. She had won her match, and you were so proud of her.

As soon as you see her beautiful figure, you stand up and straight and attempt to talk.

"Vi, you did so good..."

Your head turns as she walks right past you. You run to catch up to her, stopping right in front of her with your bouquet to her chest.

"I got these for you." You say nervously.

"Why are you here." Vi spits out.

Blinking two times in confusion, a little laugh comes out of your mouth.

"What do you mean? I came to support you. I always want to support you."

"Look, I don't need any fangirls. Please, go on somewhere." Vi says with an eye roll.

You stand there in shock as Vi pushes the flowers back to you and walks away.

As your shock fades away, you quickly decide that you won't let Vi slip from you this easily.

She's just hurt is all. She just needs somebody who won't give up on her, somebody to care.

The next time you saw Vi at one of her matches, she got her ass beat. Her lip was busted, her nose was bleeding from her piercing, and her left one had a shiner on it.

Goddamn

You wait, like always, for her to come out of the pit. When she does, she looks pissed.

"Vi-"

"I don't have time for your fucking fangirly bullshit! Haven't I fucking told you that before! When will you finally get it through your fucking skull that I just like to fuck you?" Vi yells as blood spills from her lip.

With a second thought, you dig in your pocket and pull out a handkerchief for her to wipe her lip with. You hold it out to her, and she looks at you in disbelief.

"I have ointment and gauze for your nose, too if you need it." You speak calmy.

Vi continues to stare at you with her jaw dropped.

"I know you don't care about anything but sex when it comes to me, but I am not the same. I want you to be good. I want you to be more than good. You don't have to feel the same but at least let me heal you a bit. We can have sex after that, and then you can leave."

A beat passes before Vi gives in.

"Fine, but you better make me dinner, too, and I definitely want sex."

With a light laugh, you agree, and you both make the journey to your house.

After entering your house, Vi plops herself on her couch.

"Are you thirsty?" You ask.

"You got beer?" Vi responds.

"Yes. Here you go."

You give the beer to her and then go to the back to get your healing kit.

You sit next to Vi and ask her to turn your way.

"I'll try to be as careful as possible. It might sting a little."

As you heal Vi's face, her body relaxes, and she starts to ask you questions about your life.

How did you get into healing? How do you know how to cook. Where did you find those flowers?

You politely answer every question until you finally finish.

"All done! You did so well." You say cheerfully.

A rosy shade paints Vi's face as she hears your praise. With a cough, she asks roughly, "What for dinner?"

"Oh, I forgot! I was thinking we could have fried fish and rice. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds alright." Vi says nonchalantly despite doing jumping jacks in her head as the thought of a home cooked meal.

As you cook the meal, Vi gets up and stalks towards you.

"What are you doing?"

You nearly jump 10 feet in the air as her voice suprises you.

"Oh, my fucking God Vi, you scared me! I'm breading the fish."

"What's "breading the fish"." Vi says, making quotations in the air.

"It's when you put the chicken in eggs and flour before frying it. It's what makes the fish crispy."

"Mmm." Vi hums as she puts her arms around your waist.

Vi's lips trail down you neck as her hands crawl up the inside of your top.

You moan softly as you fail to push her away. "Vi, I'm trying to cook."

"Cook later, I'm horny."

"I thought you wanted dinner." You puff out.

"I want pussy more." She muffles out into your neck. Continuing, she says, "Plus, I gotta make it up to you for being such as asshole earlier."

"It's okay, Vi. I understand that you're just frustrated sometimes. You don't have to make it up to me." You sigh out in ecstasy as Vi rubs circular motions on your breasts.

"Lemme make it up to you, cupcake."

"Let me turn off the stove." Quickly, you turn off the stove and allow Vi to pick you up to take you to the bedroom.

As soon as Vi lays you on the bed, you immediately start taking each other's clothes off.

The first thing Vi does as she sees your breast is suck on them. She swirls her tongue around your nipple while she palms your other breast. You moan and arch into her touch as she works your body.

"Fuck, Vi, don't stop." You say as you begin to rub quick motions on her clit. She groans into your mouth, her cum coating your fingers. Vi moves away from your breast, trailing kisses down your stomach, happy trail, to the top of your pussy. She plants a kiss there before attempting to dive into you.

"Wait," you say with a heavy breath.

"What?" Vi says with a confused look.

"Let's do 69, I wanna eat your pussy."

A grin splits across Vi's face at lightning speed as quickly moves into position. As soon as her pussy is in front of you, you dive into each other like a five-course Michelin meal.

Both of your moans resound throughout the entire room as you tongue fuck and clit suck each other's pussies into oblivion.

"Fuck, suck my clit harder." Vi demands as she rocks against your face. Quickly obeying her command, you attach your lips to her and suck like a vacuum.

She does the same to you and in a matter of second you both come hard, shaking against each other. Vi rolls off of you and stares at the ceiling in a daze.

"Shit, that felt so good, Vi. You ready for dinner now?" You ask innocently.

Vi nods her head weakly. With a chuckle, you get up out of bed, clean both of you up, and start on dinner.

"Damn, I think fucking love her," Vi whispers to herself.

#Vi x reader #vi smut #vi x you #arcane smut #arcane fanfic #arcane spoilers #arcane s2 #arcane season 2 #asks

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eat-limes-bitches · 11 months ago

Text

Coming Home

PAIRING: Female Avenger! Reader x Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: “Falling for you was like nothing I imagined.” Her voice started to give out as the door to the safe house burst open, “It was coming home.”

WARNINGS: ANGST, ANGST, ANGST! but it has a happy ending, mentions of death, dying, blood, stab wounds, violence, Sad! Bucky, nausea

Word Count: 1913

A/N: Hi! Here is another installment of my febuwhump series! Like I said, completely out of order but I couldn't wait it share this one with you guys!

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne

Y/n knew when they left for this mission that something wasn’t right. It was too clean, the information was too good. Despite the many reassurances from Bucky when they landed, she still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Now, as she ran, she made a mental note to shout, ‘I told you so’ at her partner as soon as they reached the safe house, that was, if she could get out of the collapsing building. Skidding around a turn she pushed herself harder, desperate to reach the exit. She was almost there when there was an excruciating pain thrumming up her left leg. Whipping her head around, she saw a knife embedded in her calf and a trapped HYDRA soldier holding onto the handle.

“If I’m going down, you’re coming with me, sweetheart.” the soldier grimaced as he twisted the knife. Y/n glanced at the fast-approaching collapse of the ceiling before looking at the trapped man.

“You fucking wish,” she growled before shooting the man. His hand, now lifeless, released the handle so she continued her rapid sprint to the exit, somehow stumbling out the doorway and collapsing in the grass just as the rest of the building fell into a pile of rubble.

“Y/N! Are you alright?!” Bucky's worried voice shouted in her ear, causing her to wince.

“Just fucking peachy.” She grumbled, closing her eyes as a headache started to form in the back of her head. She re-opened them, however, as she heard rapid footsteps approaching, looking over just in time to see Bucky’s approaching form. He slid to a stop and took in her battered form on the ground.

“Are you hurt darlin’?” Has questioned, as he leaned down to help Y/n back to her feet. S he winced as her left leg started supporting weight again.

“Yeah some bugger got me in the calf on the way out, but it's not bleeding too badly, we can take care of it at the safe house I think.” She groaned, putting more weight on Bucky's shoulder. He glanced over her shoulder to observe the wound in question and nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, I think so too but let's get you to that safe house faster.” Bucky led her to the bike that was hidden in the tree line and gracefully set her down on the back seat before hopping on the bike himself and speeding off down the dirt road.

The longer the pair drove, the worse Y/n felt. Her head started spinning and her stomach churned. By the time they reached the safe house, she all but flung herself off the bike and hurled what was left of her breakfast that morning into the bushes.

“Shit, you ok doll?” Bucky asked, crouching down next to her, running a hand up and down her back. Y/n let out a groan.

“Been better I’m not gonna lie.” As Bucky wrapped an arm around her frame and pulled her up to move her into the house, she couldn’t decide if the butterflies in her stomach were from being this close to him or the nausea. Once inside the small safe house, Bucky placed Y/n on the kitchen table and dashed off to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.

She tried to get an idea of what was around her in the room but the more she tried to focus on one thing, the more it spun around in her vision. Unable to prop herself up any longer, she lay flat on the table trying to stop the world from moving around her. Bucky returned moments later and placed a wet rag on her forehead, causing her eyes to flutter open.

“I’m gonna get this knife out now, ok doll?” Bucky said as he rounded the table. All Y/n could do was make a soft ‘mhm’ and groan as he pulled the knife out.

The first sign that something was wrong was the orange tinge to the blood that came pouring out of the wound. The next hint was the remnants of a yellow powder on the blade. The more strange orange liquid oozed out of the wound, the faster Bucky’s heart sped up.

“Y/n? You feeling ok darlin’?” He called out, looking up from the wound when he heard no response. Y/n’s head was limply lying to one side. He cursed under his breath as he tightened the tunicate and dashed around the table to place a hand on her face.

“Y/n? Open your eyes for me darlin’.” Bucky called out desperately, his thumb brushing over her cheek, taking notice of how cold it was to the touch. Her eyes fluttered open and her blown-out pupils focused on Bucky’s face. A wistful smile decorated her features.

‘Hey Buck, when did you get here?” Bucky’s heart sank, he knew the signs all too well from his time in the war. The faraway look, the disorientation, she was dying, but she couldn’t be, not yet.

“I’ve been here the whole time doll. Can you keep your eyes open for me?” He pleaded as he started to back away to try and return to her wound to keep patching it up. He was stopped by her hand coming up holding his hand to her face, keeping him in place.

“You know I always knew that this was going to happen.” She mumbled, locking her gaze on his face. Bucky riffled through his pocket looking for his emergency transponder.

“W-what are you talking about, baby? You’re gonna be fine!” He stated, fumbling over his words as he pulled out the little remote and pressed the button. Y/n shook her head.

“No, I’m not and you know that just as much as I do.” Her voice was becoming airy the more she tried to talk. Bucky felt the hard knot in his throat starting to form as he shook his head, willing the tears to go back into his eyes.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about doll. I’m gonna get you patched up a-and we are going to go home and you are gonna take me to that noodle shop you promised me right?” Y/n shook her head softly, not having a lot of energy to move at this point.

“You know I won’t. But please know, none of this is your fault”. Her voice was light and airy as she spoke. Bucky shook his head wildly.

“No, not like this, Y/n, please not like this!” He cried, bringing his other hand up to cup her face, trying to keep her gaze locked on him. She soothed him, bringing her other hand up to place it on top of his head, burying her finger into the dirty chestnut locks.

“It’s gonna be ok, Buck.” She whispered, a smile still decorating her face. Bucky decided that even as she lay there dying on the table, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

“Don’t be sad, the stars are going to shine tonight.” Bucky took a shaky breath, letting his eyes slip close to savor the feeling of her fingers in his hair one last time.

“A-and when you see them, know I am watching over you.” Y/n gasped as her body began shutting down causing Bucky’s eyes to flash open in alarm. Y/n shook her head a bit, a breathy laugh dancing off her lips.

“There is so much to say, so many wonderful things I have to tell you, but with so little time left.” Her voice was only a whisper now, but even as quiet as her words were, she couldn’t hear the jet engine roaring in the background.

“Like what darlin’?” Bucky whimpered as he watched her eyes grow dull the closer the footsteps got to the door.

“Falling for you was like nothing I imagined.” Her voice started to give out as the door to the safe house burst open, revealing a disheveled Steve and Bruce barreling in, with the rest not far behind. With a final breath, she looked Bucky right in the eye.

“It was coming home.”

~~~~~~happy ending after the cut but if you want to be sad stop here~~~~~~~~

The cry that left Bucky as her hands went limp and her eyes slid closed was going to haunt the team for the rest of their lives. Bruce, who had been tending to the wound the first chance he got, looked to the rest of the team.

“She still has a pulse, all be it faint. I know what's wrong with her, we can save her.”

To Bucky, everything after that was a blur. Steve pulled Bucky away from Y/n and Tony scooped her up, rushing her back to the jet as the rest rushed after him. Back at the compound, Y/n was placed in the med wing as Bruce began treatment. Bucky didn’t understand much other than “Radiation sickness. Uranium on the knife. Nothing he could have done.”

Nothing he could have done? He watched the love of his life basically die in his arms, in his care and there was nothing he could have done? After being forcibly made to shower and change clothes to rid himself of the Uranium on his clothes was he then allowed into her room. He resumed the position he held at the safe house, clutching her hand and waiting for any signs of life, other than the beeping from the monitor.

Bucky moved his gaze from her face to the window. The light danced off the windows of the other building unfiltered by the cloudless sky. It was beautiful, but he couldn’t appreciate it, it looked dull in comparison to the woman on the bed.

“I thought I told you to not be sad.” Her voice was so soft that Bucky thought he imagined it but when he snapped his gaze to her face, he saw her bright eyes staring right back at him. Bucky choked on a sob and rested his head on the bed. The relief flooding through his system was too much for him to handle. Her nimble fingers took their rightful place on top of his head, brushing through the now silky hair strands.

After a moment, Bucky lifted his head and captured Y/n’s hand as it fell from his head, pressing a kiss into her palm before holding it in his hands.

“It’s hard not to be sad when the one person who brought life into the darkest parts of my life was dying in my arms.” He returned his gaze to lock onto Y/ns. For a moment the pair sat in silence before Bucky spoke again.

“I thought I lost you.” Y/n just smiled softly, not saying a word. Bucky just stared at her, trying to bask in the warmth of her gaze as long as he could. The more he basked, the more the nightmarish pain of losing her was becoming just that, a nightmare.

“But I’m still here.” Bucky’s grip increased slightly, fearful that he may hurt her, but needing to feel her to keep himself grounded, keep himself from falling off the edge of reality in the abyss of ‘what ifs’. Bucky had so many things he wanted to tell her, so many different things he could and should say but the only thing that managed to slip out was, “Yeah. Yeah you are.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader angst

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sweetbans29 · 7 months ago

Text

Protector - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: 3 times Caitlin is overprotective

Warnings: jealous(ish) Caitlin

Word Count: 2.8k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Here's another one for you!

one. fall.

You have no idea why you thought it would be a good idea to go rollerblading. It has been years since you put them on but you begged Caitlin all day saying it would be a fun little outing.

You were completely wrong. It wasn't even 5 minutes in when you fell and got a pretty nasty scrap on your knee.

It takes a few seconds before you feel like you can stand and when you do you wince then sit back down.

Caitlin is looking at our scrap with furrowed eyebrows as she examines what the best course of action would be.

"We should get you home to clean that up, I don't want it to get infected," Caitlin says as her eyes are still glued to your knee.

"No, we just started. I want to keep going," you combat and try to stand again.

Once you are on your feet, you realize you can barely move your leg. You try to hide the pain you are in from your girlfriend but have a hard time hiding anything when you begin to put any sort of pressure on your left leg.

"Okay that is it," Caitlin says as she turns around and hoists you up on her back. She leave both of your rollerblades where you fell and is now carrying you back to your apartment in her socks.

"Cait! I am fine!" You say frustrated that your cute date has been cut short.

"You are not fine." She mumbles as she marches back. "I am going to inspect it after I disinfect it and we will see if I need to take you to urgent care to get it stitched."

"Babe, chill - I am okay." You say, then realize it is a mistake.

Her head whips around as she comes to a complete stop. You can only see her profile but you know she is giving you her death stare.

You learned early on in your relationship how protective Caitlin can be. At first, you thought it was normal but then one of her teammates pointed out how whenever you are in any sort of compromising situation - both physical or mental, Caitlin is right there watching over you. It is always endearing, but could also be too much at times.

You kiss her shoulder and you feel her relax.

The two of you make your way into your apartment. She places you on the kitchen counter as she makes her way to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit.

While she is gone, you attempt to stand up, putting most of your weight on your hands as you slowly lower yourself to the ground. Once you are down on your right foot, you slowly shift your weight to your left and feel pain shoot to your knee. You hiss and begin to lose your balance, trying to grab onto the counter.

Before you know it you feel yourself going down. You mentally brace for your second impact on the ground today but it never comes.

Cait has made her way back to you and has caught you mid-fall, effortlessly lifting you back up and sitting you back down on the counter.

"Do not do that again," is all she says as she opens the first aid kit.

You listen and feel bad for trying to get down on your own. You know Caitlin is doing everything in her power to care for you and you are doing everything you can to do it yourself.

Caitlin takes her time as she disinfects the wound, her hands are the most gentle they have ever been. She is locked in on ensuring she does a thorough job and you do everything in your power to not flinch away from her touch.

You can begin to see steam come out to Caitlin's ears as she is working so intricately on your wound. You bring your hand to brush down the left side of her head.

"I'm sorry I forced you to go rollerblading." You say looking at her. "And I am sorry I fell and that you have to take care of me." This is the best you can do to say Caitlin was right about the whole rollerblading idea.

She looks up at you for the first time since last scolding you for moving.

"You don't need to apologize, babe. I know you didn't do this on purpose." She says as she kisses your right knee. You give her a half smile as she places a bandage on your knee. She stands and you pull her in between your legs and wrap your arms around her for a hug.

She wraps her arms around you and lets out a sigh. The second she does, you know it has been one she has been holding in for a while now.

You rub her back knowing the stress you have caused her this afternoon. Her body relaxes into yours and you can't imagine having anyone else take care of you the way Cait does.

two. handsy.

It’s the Hawkeyes first game in March Madness and you could not be more excited.

Typically you attend games with your friends or sit with Caitlin's family but in this game, Caitlin was able to score you a courtside seat which you gladly accepted.

You get to the game and get escorted to your seat. You chose a simple outfit that consisted of black jeans, some black pumps, and of course your girl’s jersey.

As you sit down you notice the seats around you are empty, you know they will fill up right before tipoff.

You watch the girls come out and begin their warm-ups. You see Caitlin looks around the court until her eyes land on you. Giving her a little wave, she smiles and gives a wave back. Typically you don't drag Cait's attention away from the game but being so close and seeing her look for you, you couldn't help it.

As they are announcing the teams, the people next to you show up. You don't pay them much attention as they begin to announce the Hawkeyes, cheering on Caitlin as she makes her way onto the floor.

The game begins and you are locked into watching Caitlin dominate the court.

You are pulled away from the game when you feel a tap on your thigh. Looking away from the game for a second, you turn to the girl sitting next to you.

She points down to the ground where her lipgloss has rolled by your foot. You pick it up and hand it to her with a smile then turn your attention back to the court.

The first time out is called and you are able to sit back in your chair and breathe for a minute. Watching Caitlin always has your elbows on your knees, holding your breath, with your eyes on her. So any time they call a time-out or the quarter ends you are able to sit back and release the tension your body holds.

"Hey, I'm sorry I interrupted you from the game," the girl next to you says.

You giver her a smile, "Oh you are good!"

"I'm Sarah," she extends her hand. You shake it and introduce yourself.

The game begins again and you assume your position. You cheer on the team as they put in work to stay ahead of the other team. You are on the edge of your seat and don't realize these are folding seats as you push it back slightly, losing your balance.

Just as you are about to fall you feel arms come around you as Sarah has effortlessly caught you and saved you from making a fool of yourself. You are in an awkward squat for .5 seconds as she scoots your chair back to support you. As you sit, your hand comes to her lower thigh as you mumble a thank you, still embarrassed.

"Hey you're good babe, I won't let you fall," she says with a beaming smile. You give her a small smile and nod, thanking her.

Your attention goes back to your girl who you notice has eyes on you. She is staring directly at you, eyes going between you and the girl sitting next to you. Sending you girl a nod, you lock back into the game.

It isn't long after that the half is announced and the girl next to you starts making conversation with you. You don't want to be rude and enter into the light conversation. She stops what she is saying then takes her finger and removes a hair that got caught on your lip. Her finger comes and brushes your cheek and you feel like this is going a little too far.

"Sarah, you seem like a really nice girl but I'm in a relationship." You say.

"Oh my gosh, I promise I am not hitting on you!" She says and introduces you to the girl next to her who's her wife.

A blush instantly makes its way to your face as you feel the fullness of the embarrassment that has overtaken your body. Sarah then puts her arm around you and gives you a side hug as you hide your face in your hands.

Little did you know that Caitlin had seen the whole interaction and had quite frankly had enough of whatever was happening on the sidelines.

Taking only a few giant strides, she is now in front of you.

"Cait!" You yell surprised she has abandoned her post before the fourth quarter.

She is looking right at Sarah, eyes burning into the girl next to you.

"I'm going to need you to remove your arm from my girl and keep your hands to yourself." She says as she removes her arm from you, setting Sarah's hand on her lap and patting it.

"Caitlin," you try getting her attention to let her know the newfound fact that Sarah is indeed not hitting on you.

Caitlin just goes on to tell Sarah that you are happily in a relationship and that she doesn't need the distraction of someone hitting on her girlfriend every 5 minutes.

You get fed up, standing and grabbing Caitlin's face.

"Sarah is married and you are the only one for me!" You yell at her so she can hear you over the crowd. She freezes and now it is her turn to feel the heat of embarrassment creep into her cheeks.

You place a little kiss on her nose and release her, turning her shoulders back to the court and pushing her towards Gabby who checks in with Cait. Caitlin brushes her off as she can't shake the smile on her face.

Your nose kisses are her favorite.

three. work.

Caitlin is currently sitting in the rolling chair right next to yours, tossing up a lacrosse ball as she waits for you to finish up some admin work.

Your staff decided to do its first ever 'bring your spouse into work day'. You thought it was silly considering your company is literally a team of rugby players but caved in when you told Caitlin about it and she was completely on board.

Caitlin and you weren't married yet but had been dating since high school. The two of you talked about marriage quite frequently but wanted to wait until after college to figure it all out. You both knew it was coming but just a matter of when.

"I am almost done here and then we will head out to the field," you say finishing up one of your reports. Caitlin nods, which is unseen to you but you know she is content. Between her practices, games, your work, and school - any time the two of you got together was gold.

You finish up and the two of you head out to the field. You work as a part of the sports medicine team for a local rugby team. It was perfect because it's what you are studying in school and will look good when on your resume. Your goal is to go into the WNBA with Caitlin's team wherever she is drafted.

During the practice, it is a lot of retaping and making sure all the players have what they need. Caitlin watches in awe as these giant guys come up to her girl needing her help with something. You aren't the tallest person to begin with but seeing these full-grown men come up to you makes Caitlin so proud.

Once practice is done - you and Cait go back to your office knowing the fun has just begun. Caitlin takes a seat back in the rolling chair as you grab a pile of towels and make sure your massage table is out and prepped.

Aside from taping, one of your main jobs was massaging out the guys at the end of practice and/or games if needed.

Caitlin knows what you do - you talk about frequently when your job is ever brought up in conversation. She knows what you do firsthand as you have spent countless hours rubbing out knots that she has built up from her own sport. But she was not ready for what she was about to witness.

The first player comes in and you and he joke around as he gets set on the table. By the sounds of it, he is in here after every practice.

He sets himself on his side and hikes up his shorts on his right leg as he twists to the all too familiar position. You place a towel on his upper thigh and glut. As you begin to work out his glut he starts groaning in pain.

You laugh as you continue to work him out. His hand comes up to grab your shoulder, trying to get any sort of pressure released as your elbow assaults his knot. Caitlin's eyes are on the player's hand that is clutching your shoulder now.

You ease up and nudge his hand off, making a joke that he is making you uncomfortable. Caitlin released the breath she didn't realize she was holding.

The thing is - Caitlin is beyond secure in your relationship. She has no doubts that you are hers and only hers but seeing this guy wither under your touch has a fire burning within her. At this moment, it provided no comfort to Caitlin knowing how good your massages are.

Caitlin sits there with her arms crossed as you finish working with the guy. The guy thanks you and heads out as you have a little break.

"I don't know if I like this," Caitlin says, arms still crossed as she is leaning back in her chair.

You shoot her a smile and make your way to her.

"You know best what these hands can do," you say with a shrug and a little smirk. Her eyes widen, not expecting that response from you as the next guy walks in. You lean over and kiss her on the head as you greet the next player.

The next player is similar except you are working out the back of his calves and thighs. He keeps moaning and groaning which you laugh at. Caitlin knows the sounds the guy is making are due to the pain he is in but she can’t help but feel jealousy rise within her.

Again, she knows this is your job and she knows that she is the one you come home to every night but it is wild to her that these guys are squirming at your touch.

This player is feeling so much pain that he reaches back and grabs the back of your thigh just to hold onto something and Caitlin can see him squeeze it.

She leans over and grabs the guy's hand, removing it from your leg.

“Okay that’s enough,” Caitlin says putting her hand on your thigh where she just removed his.

The player apologizes and you give Cait a questioning look.

She doesn’t say anything to you but lets you finish the massage. The player grips the table until you are finished and thanks you upon leaving.

“What was that about babe?” You ask putting everything away.

“There is no reason for them to touch you - especially the way the second guy was. It’s inappropriate,” she says.

“It’s a reflex, it means nothing. And trust me, I always have them remove it.” You say walking up to her.

You stand in between her legs as her hands come up to find the back of your thighs. She looks up at you for a second then her head falls to your stomach. Your hands come to her head and soothe her hair over.

“Your hands are the only ones I want on my body babe.” You say in a sweet tone.

“They better be,” she says giving your legs a squeeze as she pulls you in and hugs your middle.

AN: I hope you enjoyed this lil cute one. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark imagine #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark masterlist #22

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