#slice of life masterlist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

d1stalker · 11 days

Text

Collateral Damage [Logan Howlett]

SUMMARY: The X-men are heroes—they save the world, eradicate threats and protect both mutants and humans alike. You don't see it that way, though.

WARNINGS: one-sided e2l, fem!reader is stubborn and sassy af but it's valid, arguing, canon-level violence, scott's a dick, SMUT - 18+ only! WC: 21k - MASTERLIST

A/N: i've always wanted to write a fic with this plot, it's been on my mind for AGES. happy reading!

----

The first time you see them, it’s on your birthday.

Not being one for big, elaborate parties, you planned a quiet celebration instead—maybe a stroll through the lively city streets, followed by dinner with friends later. You had just visited your favourite store, buying a gift for yourself, and now you’re on your way back home.

The streets buzz with life as people shop, eat, and laugh, making it the perfect backdrop for a peaceful walk and some casual people-watching.

Then, out of nowhere, the ground trembles.

At first, you think it’s an earthquake—a quick jolt beneath your feet that sends a ripple of confusion through your body. But the tremor grows stronger, the ground shaking violently as everyone around you begins to panic, frantically looking around for the source, you included. And that’s when you see it.

A hulking, green monster stomping through the city streets like something out of a nightmare. It has to be at least twenty feet tall, its skin a sickly shade of green, its eyes glowing with rage. Cars bounce with each heavy footstep, leaving deep footprints in the cement in its wake.

People scream, scrambling to get out of its path, but you stand frozen, heart pounding as you try to make sense of what’s happening. In the blink of an eye, the city had been plunged into chaos. You lose track of your surroundings, too busy trying to keep your eyes on the monster headed your way, while also dodging the hoard of pedestrians running for their lives.

Until they show up.

Initially, you don’t even notice them. After all, there’s so much going on around you at this point you barely know what to do with yourself. Yet, through the dust and destruction, you see flashes of movement—figures darting toward the monster with a sense of purpose.

You don’t know who they are, but their bright blue and yellow suits make it seem like you should. At first glance, it’s hard not to feel a sense of awe. They move with such confidence, with their powers on full display for the world to see. You’ve never seen anything like it—a team of mutants using their powers in the open, fighting for what you assume is the greater good.

Maybe they can stop this!

The one first to act is a woman with white hair. She raises her arms to the sky, her eyes glowing a bright white as dark clouds swirl above, blocking out the sun. A flash of lightning slams into the monster's chest, forcing it to reel back with a thunderous roar of agony, and the crowd around you gasps, watching in wonder.

But when the lightning strikes a second time, it veers off course, crashing into the side of a nearby building. The structure groans under the impact, flames erupting from the point of contact as windows shatter, sending glass raining down onto the street below.

The collision sends you to the ground, and when you look up again, you see the power inside go out, all the lights flickering off.

Whatever awe you’d been feeling dissolves into concern, a sinking feeling settling in your chest.

Following her, a man with a glowing red visor strides forward. He’s clearly aiming to hit the monster, but the bright red beam shooting from his eyes slices through several cars in the street first, flipping them over and leaving them in smoldering wrecks. One of the blasts tears through a storefront, reducing it to rubble in a matter of seconds. More people scream and scatter, trying to escape the destruction.

From the corner of your eye, you see another mutant—a man with claws—lunge toward the monster, jumping onto cars to get closer to its head. But by using the parked cars as springboards, the weight of him causes the roof to sink in, and his claws leave deep gashes in the metal.

How heavy is this guy? Is he made of metal or something?

He’s fast, brutal, slashing at the green beast with some serious ferocity. Still, despite the attack, the monster’s strength prevails, and it easily tosses him aside, crashing into buildings, crowds—anything in the way. To your surprise, he always gets back up. And that should be good, right? They are fighting for the safety of the city.

But as debris rains down and cars are overturned, you can’t help but feel like this isn’t helping. You’re constantly dodging rubble, trying to find shelter, only for it to be destroyed seconds later. It’s like being in a war zone, and it doesn’t seem to be getting better.

And above it all, there’s a woman with red hair. She’s floating, and you watch from where you’re hiding as she lifts entire trees from their roots, hurling them at the monster in an attempt to slow it down. Except, much like her teammates, her attempt goes awry, and she misses, the trees now flying toward you.

You barely have the reflexes to dive out of the way.

Your heart races, breath coming in shallow bursts as you press yourself against a wall, trying to steady yourself. The sound of sirens blare in the distance, but it doesn’t seem like help is coming anytime soon. There’s too much going on. People are running, pushing each other aside, crying, screaming, trying to find safety.

Glancing around, you’re met with destruction—flames licking at the sidewalk, cars totaled, and building wreckage littering the streets. These mutants, while clearly powerful, are causing just as much destruction as the monster itself.

What should have been a simple takedown—a 6v1—has turned into a full-scale disaster.

And yet, they don’t stop. They don’t pause to help the people caught in the crossfire, don’t even seem to notice the damage they’re causing. They’re so focused on the monster, so focused on the fight, that they’ve lost sight of everything else.

Is this what heroism looks like? You’d been excited at first—amazed, even—thinking they were here to save the day. But now, standing in the middle of a city that’s being torn apart, you realize how wrong you were.

They don’t care. Not about the city. Not about the people.

Finally, with one last blast from the man with the visor, the monster collapses to the ground, defeated. It lets out a final roar before falling still, its massive body sprawled across the street.

The team stands over its body, their chests heaving with exertion, but they have smiles on their faces, feeling victorious. One by one, they board an aircraft, dragging the monster in with them, barely sparing a glance at the horrors they’ve caused. The white-haired woman doesn’t even bother to clear the storm clouds she summoned.

Within moments, they’re gone. You, and everyone else in the area, are left to deal with the fallout. Left to clean up their mess.

Happy birthday to me, I guess.

—

After that, you spend the next few days trying to process what had happened. You’re still in a state of shock, confusion, and disbelief, but then the media catches wind of what went down, and suddenly, it’s everywhere.

News channels replay the footage over and over, the headlines screaming about “our holy saviours” saving the day. They’re plastered across every screen, being hailed as protectors.

The X-Men.

A group of mutant superheroes, apparently. The reporters list them off one by one, like they’re celebrities you should have known about.

Storm. Cyclops. Wolverine. Jean Grey.

Mutants with powers like gods.

—

The second time you see them, you’re on vacation.

Sitting in a quaint café in the south of France, you’re enjoying a well-deserved break. The city you’re in is perfect—cobblestone streets winding through the village, vine-covered walls framing pastel-colored houses, and the scent of fresh bread drifting from nearby bakeries. It all feels like something out of a dream, the kind of peaceful retreat you’ve been desperate for after everything back home.

You order a frappé, and as you wait, you idly flip through a local newspaper, trying to see how much of your rusty high school French you can remember. It’s peaceful, quiet, exactly what you needed—until it’s not.

Movement out of the corner of your eye grabs your attention, and you glance over the edge of the newspaper, watching a group of tourists as they walk into the café. It’s not really anything odd, so you don’t think much of it—they’re dressed casually, like any group of vacationers.

Though, something about them tugs at the back of your mind, a nagging feeling that you’ve seen them before.

You lower the newspaper entirely now, staring as you try to place where you recognize them from. The tall one with the red sunglasses, the woman with the striking white hair, the man in the leather jacket... You squint, the pieces slowly falling into place.

And then it hits you.

Oh, no way.

You’re halfway around the world, in a different country, on a different continent, and somehow, they’re here. At the same café.

Shifting in your seat, you’re trying to figure out what the hell is going on, when the barista arrives with your drink. He smiles warmly at you, placing the cup down on the table with a soft “voila madame,” but before you can even thank him, there’s a blur of motion.

One of them—Wolverine, you think—lunges at the barista, grabbing him by the collar and shoving him back. The tray tips, and your frappé spills everywhere—all over the table, your newspaper, and, to your absolute horror, all over you.

“Logan, no!” you hear Storm shout, but it’s too late.

The cold drink soaks into your clothes, and you let out a startled yelp, jumping up as your chair topples over. Your clothes are ruined, your vacation ruined, and in the midst of all of this?

Wolverine—or Logan, you guess, is wrestling with the poor barista.

“What the hell?!” you shout, trying to shake off the liquid dripping down your legs. “Is this a joke?!”

No one hears you, or even acknowledges you.

The other mutants jump into action, and before you know it, the peaceful café is transformed into yet another battleground. Cyclops blasts a beam at the barista—who you now realize must be the target of whatever mission they’re on—but it misses, smashing into the wall behind you.

You’re furious, covered in a brown drink that makes it seem like you just had explosive diarrhea, and caught in yet another X-Men fiasco. All you wanted was a vacation. You don’t even know what’s happening anymore—who the barista is, what mission they’re on—but frankly, you don’t care.

This is absurd!

Without a second thought, you grab your bag and make a break for it, dodging overturned tables and debris as you make your way to the exit. You don’t bother looking back, your only thought being to get changed, and get as far away as possible.

After rounding the corner, putting some distance between yourself and the café, you pause for a moment to catch your breath. And then you hear it.

Boom.

The sound reverberates through the narrow streets, shaking the cobblestones beneath your feet. You whirl around, sticking your head out from the corner of the building, just in time to see a plume of smoke rising into the air from where the café once stood.

Your heart sinks.

They blew it up.

—

The third time you see them, it’s a really nice day outside.

It’s a week after you’ve returned home, and the weather had finally given you a break from the suffocating heat. You’re walking home from a lunch with an old friend, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. Probably said friend sending you something stupid to laugh at later.

You chuckle, already anticipating the joke, when—

BAM!

Something slams into you from the side with the force of a freight train. You’re airborne for a second, weightless, before crashing hard onto the pavement, your breath knocked right out from your lungs.

Dazed, you groan and blink up at the sky, trying to get your bearings. What the hell just hit me? Your vision swims as you sit up, shoulder throbbing from the impact. Twisting your neck to see whatever the hell that was, you immediately regret it, wincing at the sharp pain.

Great, just great.

When you finally manage to sit up, you spot the culprit.

Cyclops.

Are you fucking serious?!

His back is to you, dusting off his ugly uniform like nothing happened. You look around, and notice that the street in front you is in ruins—buildings have gaping holes where windows used to be, chunks of the road are crumbling, people covered in blood scurrying away as fast as they can.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, you catch a glimpse of the giant mechanical robots looming above, scanning for their targets. One of them must’ve thrown Cyclops into you.

You can see the others—Jean, Storm, Beast (some new guy)—flying around, saving the world. That’s codeword for: wreaking havoc, destroying your city.

Anger boils up inside you, hot and unrelenting as you struggle to your feet, rubbing your sore shoulder. But as you open your mouth, a gruff voice cuts through the air.

"Good job, dickhead. You just hurt a civilian."

Your gaze snaps toward the sound. Wolverine’s standing a few feet away, claws out, glaring at the guy who sent you flying.

“I was thrown, Logan,” he says passively. “Maybe if you kept the Sentinels off me—”

“Maybe if you didn’t stand there like a damn target, you wouldn’t get thrown!” The clawed mutant growls, taking a step closer. His whole posture is tense, like he’s barely holding himself back from tackling the other man into the ground (you would pay to have him do it). “Seriously, Summers, it’s like you want to get tossed around.”

Cyclops doesn’t even flinch. “We’ve got bigger problems than this right now,” he dismisses, not even glancing back at you to check if you’re okay.

Well, there goes the last of your patience.

"Are you kidding me?!" you shout, throwing your hands up in disbelief. They completely ignore you, too absorbed in their petty bickering to acknowledge that you’re still standing there, seething.

Before you can rip into them, something catches your eye—a Sentinel (is that what they’re called?), hovering above them, charging up a blast. Its arm is raised, energy crackling at the barrel of its cannon, aimed directly at the two distracted morons.

“Oh, for the love of—” you mutter under your breath before diving forward.

The blast hits you square in the chest, but instead of pain, all you feel is the heat of the energy surging through your body, like lightning spreading through every inch of your veins. It crackles and burns, the force building up inside you until it feels like you’re about to explode.

Then, with a deep breath, you thrust your hands forward, channeling and releasing the blast right back at the robot, blowing it apart. Metal and circuits rain down, the Sentinel crashing into the ground with a deafening thud.

Silence falls.

You’re panting, feeling the leftover energy fizzle out of your fingertips. Slowly, you turn back around, and unsurprisingly, Cyclops–or Scott, as you’ve heard in the news—and Logan are staring at you like you just walked on water. Well, the clawed one is. You can’t really see the other brown-haired man’s expression due to his visor.

“Woah, bub—”

“Oh, hell no!” You spin around fully, pointing an accusatory finger at both of them. “Neither of you get to speak! I just saved your asses because you were too busy bickering like children to notice the massive death robot about to blow you to pieces!”

Logan’s mouth quirks up, but he wisely stays silent.

“And this is exactly why I hate you people!” You continue, exasperated. “You swoop in, make a mess, destroy everything in your path, and then just leave like nothing happened! You think this is helping anyone? You think the people running for their lives right now give a damn about your little team squabbles?”

Scott doesn’t even blink. “We’re just trying to help,” he says evenly, like he’s rehearsed the line a thousand times.

“Help?” you scoff incredulously. “You only tell yourself you’re doing that to make yourself feel better. How many casualties do you think are coming out of this, hm? What’s the body count gonna be after today? Or do you not even bother counting anymore?”

His audacity makes you want to laugh. He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re not done.

"All this mess, the destroyed buildings, the people who won’t make it home tonight because you couldn’t keep your damn fight contained! You’re so focused on stopping the big bad guys that you don’t even realize how much carnage you leave behind. Who’s cleaning up after you? Who’s paying for this?! " You gesture around wildly. "News flash: the people whose lives you’re currently ruining!”

Beside him, Logan’s smirk fades, and he begins to step forward with his hands raised. “Listen, darlin’, we’re doin’ the best we can. We didn’t ask for this fight—”

"Oh, don’t give me that ‘best we can’ bullshit," you snap.

“We’re here to protect people,” Scott adds in, trying to maintain authority. “It’s not always clean, but we are making a difference—"

“Shut the fuck up! I’m not finished!” You interrupt, shaking your head. “Every day. Every damn day there’s something new.”

With the face Logan’s making, you’d think he’s going to start going in on you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just watches, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s trying to figure you out. It’s unnerving, but you don’t care. You’ve had enough.

"And you," you say, turning your ire toward him, "You couldn’t have, I don’t know, used your super speed or whatever the hell you do to catch him before he crashed into me?"

His eyebrow quirks up. “Super speed?” he chuckles lowly. “Ain’t that fast. Was a little busy with the giant killer robots.”

You tilt your head back in frustration and turn on your heel. "I’m done. I don’t care what kind of mission you’re on, or how noble you think it is. If you're planning to lay waste to the city yet again, be my guest.”

Giving no time for a response, you stalk off, weaving through the wreckage of the city streets, your heart still pounding in your chest.

—

A couple weeks have passed since the last incident, and the X-Men seem to have disappeared from the headlines. You haven’t seen them or heard their whereabouts splashed across the news like you’ve gotten used to—though not by choice, of course. Whenever they do anything, the world seems to bow at their feet.

You don’t get it.

The flashy suits, the team name, the way they strut around as if they’re the Gods of the mutant race. It’s too much, too loud. They act like they’re above it all, as if their powers and heroics put them on a pedestal. Better than those who prefer to lay low, who have no choice but to blend in.

You’ve spent years hiding your powers, keeping them buried deep where no one can see. When you were younger, you didn’t have a choice. Your mutation made you a target—bullied, beaten up, pushed around for being different.

You learned quickly that being a mutant didn’t make you special. It made you vulnerable.

So, you hid. You stayed quiet, under the radar. It was safer that way.

And then here are the X-Men, parading around like their abilities make them untouchable, like they’ve forgotten what it’s like for the rest of you. It’s not that you don’t believe in helping others—you just don’t believe in the way they do it.

In your opinion, it’s all performance. From what you’ve experienced and seen up close, they always arrive with a fanfare, ready to jump into action, and do whatever they can to exterminate the threat. Yet, when the dust settles, it’s mutants like you who are left to pick up the pieces.

The ones who don’t wear brightly coloured costumes or shout about unity. You’re the ones who have to keep moving, keep surviving, without any recognition.

But it's not like you need recognition. You never have. What you need is peace.

—

You’re on the phone with your mom, trying to reassure her for the millionth time this week.

"Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, Mom, I’m fine," you say, pacing the length of your small living room. You glance at the muted TV screen, the news still cycling through the usual mayhem. "You’ve seen the news recently, right? We’ve got the X-Men to take care of all this stuff—"

Knock. Knock.

You freeze mid-sentence, your words trailing off as the sound of someone at your door interrupts the call. Your heart skips a beat, and your voice drops. "Mom, I’ll call you back."

Barely waiting for her to reply, you end the call, staring at the door like it might explode.

A knock at this hour? Unannounced? You waver, your mind racing with possibilities.

Delivery? A neighbour? You’re not expecting anyone.

Cautiously, you make your way toward the door, hand hovering over the handle as you listen. No more knocks, just the faint hum of the outside world. You take a breath, steeling yourself as you turn the handle and crack the door open.

The tufts of hair, the thick stubble, the edge in his eyes—it’s him. Wolverine. And just as your brain registers his face, you also notice the glint of metal where his claws are already halfway out.

Instincts kick in, and before he can get a word in, you push against the door, trying to slam it shut.

Still, he’s faster.

His fist punches through the wood, and with a metallic snikt, his claws extend fully, slicing through the door as if it were made of paper. He pushes it open again, forcing it against your effort, and the sheer strength sends you stumbling back.

“What the fuck?” you gasp, eyes wide as you steady yourself. “How did you even find me?”

Stepping inside, he says, “picked up your scent and followed it,” matter-of-factly, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

For a moment, you just stare at him, dumbfounded. “That’s… that’s actually really creepy,” you manage, still trying to process the fact that he just said that without a hint of shame.

“Can’t control it, bub,” he shrugs.

You take a step back, putting more distance between you and the man with the claws standing in your apartment. “Okay, well, you found me. Now what?”

His eyes lock onto yours. “I need you to come with me.”

“Excuse me?” You cross your arms, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

“You’re not safe here.”

“Oh, I’m not safe?” you snap, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Maybe if you and your merry band of idiots didn’t keep causing world-ending disasters, I wouldn’t need to be safe!”

He doesn’t even flinch. “Sentinels are tracking you down.”

You falter. “What are you talking about?”

“You used your powers,” he states. “Killed a Sentinel. That’s all it takes for them to target you.”

Blinking, you feel anger rush to the surface, your skin tingling with rage. “I didn’t kill anyone. They’re fucking robots.”

“They don’t see it that way,” he counters. “You took one down, and now they know what you are.”

Part of you knows there’s merit in what he’s saying, but you don’t want to hear it. The last thing you want is to be dragged into some mutant-robot war. “This is ridiculous. I didn’t ask for any of this!” you hiss, glaring at him. “And now you’re telling me I’m on some kill list because I defended myself? Because I defended you?!”

His eyes flicker with something you can’t quite read, but he stays silent, watching you carefully. Your words start flying faster now, venom spilling into each one.

“I’m the one who took that thing down because you and that one-eyed bitch boy were too busy being immature! You weren’t even paying attention, and that thing almost blasted you both.” Your fingers ball into fists. "I saved both of you, and now I’m the one who has to run?"

Logan's jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring at the accusation. “We weren’t—”

“Don’t even try to deny it,” you cut him off. “If it weren’t for me, the two of you would be dead right now. And now I’m supposed to just go with you to your mansion and hide out? Like that’s going to fix th—”

You don’t get to end your rant, because he has stepped forward, and grabbed your shoulders, gripping you firmly. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough to snap your attention back to him.

“This is serious,” he spits, eyes boring into yours. “You stay here, you die.”

His words slam into you. He’s not trying to scare you—he’s telling the truth.

“You don’t get to be stubborn about this,” he continues firmly. “You think you’re pissed off now? Wait until they come crashin' through your door in the middle of the night, and you don’t have a chance to fight back.”

Wrenching yourself out of his grasp, you take a few steps back. “I just—” you begin to say, but the words feel tangled in your throat. The denial is still there, but it’s weakening, cracking. “I don’t want to run.”

“You’re not running,” he sighs, his voice softening ever so slightly. “You’re buying time. Time to fight back, time to survive. But if you stay here? There’s none of that.”

You want to argue more, want to scream at him to get away, to not drag you into his fight, but instead, you let out a long, shaky breath, your shoulders slumping. “Fine,” you breath out.

He nods, finally releasing his grip on you and stepping back. “Good. Pack up your shit. We leave in half an hour.”

Then, he walks over to your couch and plops down like he owns the place, crossing his arms as if settling in for a casual wait.

You roll your eyes, muttering under your breath. “Unbelievable.”

Ignoring him, you turn and head into your bedroom, where you start throwing clothes into a duffel bag—jeans, a couple of shirts, whatever you can grab quickly. Your movements are hurried, fuelled by a mix of frustration and the creeping anxiety gnawing at the edges of your mind. Grabbing your toiletries, you stuff them into a smaller bag, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the fact that some random mutant tracked you down, and now you have to leave your life until you’re safe.

You peer back into the hallway, hearing the faint creak of the couch as Logan shifts around. I’m gonna kill this guy, you think to yourself.

Once everything is packed and you’ve zipped your bag, you head back into the main room, only to see said random mutant still sprawled on your couch, looking far too comfortable, with a cigar in his hand.

“Seriously?” you say, slinging your duffel over your shoulder. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you.”

He grunts in response but doesn’t move. Typical.

You glance at the clock—still a few minutes left of the half-hour he allotted you, but there’s no point in dragging it out. “I’m ready,” you say flatly, heading toward the door.

Logan stands, stretches his arms over his head, and cracks his neck like he’s waking up from a nap. “Let’s go then.”

—

The ride is tense and quiet, which suits you just fine. You’d rather not talk to him anyway. Every now and then, you let out a loud sigh, unable to hold back the annoyance you’re feeling. Each time, you feel Logan’s eyes dart toward you from the driver’s seat, but he doesn’t say anything. Well, that is, until—

“Can you shut the fuck up?” he growls, keeping his eyes on the road.

You clench your jaw, shifting in your seat. “I didn’t even say anything, jackass.”

He huffs, clearly not in the mood for an argument, but the strain between you is almost impossible to ignore. You cross your arms, staring out the window, observing the landscape shift as the drive continues.

Eventually, you can see the outline of the mansion, and you watch as it gets bigger and bigger the closer you get. Upon arrival, He pulls the car up to the front and cuts the engine. You both sit there for a moment, mute.

“Well, here we are,” he mumbles after the pause stretches on for an uncomfortable amount of time, glancing over at you.

“Great,” you say sarcastically, unbuckling your seatbelt and pushing open the car door.

Logan walks ahead without saying a word, leading the way up the grand stone steps toward the front door. You trail behind, your mood darkening with every step, glaring at the perfectly polished entrance.

The doors open before you even reach them, and you’re greeted by an older man in a wheelchair—Charles Xavier, if you remember correctly. The famous telepath. The genius behind the mutant team (some news anchor's words, not yours). His expression is kind, but you’re in such a bad mood, you don’t even bother trying to seem polite.

“Welcome,” He says with a warm smile, his eyes assessing you with an intensity that makes your skin crawl. “Logan’s told me a lot about you.”

You press your lips together in a line. “Yeah? Well, don’t get too excited.”

Logan grunts beside you. “She’s got a bit of an attitude,” he mutters to Charles, then turns to you, gesturing you to follow him. “Come on.”

Inwardly groaning, you have no choice but to follow him. Everything about this place screams “too good to be true,” and you hate it already. You’re used to keeping your head down, blending in, not being surrounded by people who wear their powers on their sleeves like some badge of honour.

As you walk through the halls, a few faces appear—other mutants, some of them kids, watching curiously as you pass by. You can feel their eyes on you, can hear the whispers already starting about the new arrival.

Charles wheels alongside you, still smiling, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You remind me of Logan when he first joined us,” he says thoughtfully.

That stops you in your tracks.

You whip your head toward the man, giving him a piercing look. “Do not say that. We are nothing alike.”

On your other side, Logan smirks. “Not sure if I should be offended or not.”

“I’m serious.” If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under.

Chucking softly, Charles seems completely unaffected by your outburst. “You’re both a bit rough around the edges, but you’ll find your place here.”

“Yeah, sure,” you say. “Because that’s exactly what I want to do.”

Deeper into the mansion, you catch sight of the X-Men you’ve seen before: Cyclops, Storm, Jean Grey. They all turn to look at you, sizing you up. You don’t flinch—you just stare back, your expression hard.

Pulling your duffel bag higher on your shoulder, you rip your eyes away from theirs, and keep walking, following Logan down the long, quiet hallway. Finally, he stops in front of a door.

“This is your room,” he grunts, nodding toward it. “Try not to break anything.”

Choosing silence, you push the door open. Stepping inside, you expect the bare minimum—a bed, maybe a closet—but instead, you’re met with a surprisingly large space. There’s a massive bed in the center of the room, a desk by the window, and, to your surprise, a set of glass doors leading out to a balcony.

You drop your bag by the door, glancing around, trying to shake off the unease. This is way too nice for a prisoner. You walk toward the balcony doors, curious despite yourself, and when you pull them open, the cool breeze hits you immediately.

Once you’re outside, you realize something that immediately makes your stomach drop.

The balcony is shared. And right next to your side, leaning against the railing with a cigar between his fingers, is Logan.

You halt mid-motion, eyes fixed on him in stunned silence. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He glances over, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes a drag of his cigar. “Surprise.”

You groan, turning your back on him and walking toward the opposite edge of the balcony, trying to calm the annoyance inside you. Of all the people you could’ve been stuck beside, it had to be him. It’s not enough that he dragged you here, but now there’s a chance you’re going to have to see him every time you step outside.

“So what now?” you mutter, staring out over the mansion grounds, the manicured gardens below looking like something out of a postcard. “I’m just supposed to stay here, be a part of your little mutant club?”

Taking another slow pull on his cigar, “You’re supposed to stay alive. Everythin’ else? That’s up to you.”

“But why do you suddenly care?” you ask. “I’ve seen the way you operate. You and your team sweep in, fight your battles, and then leave everyone else in the dirt. You don’t care about the collateral damage—hell, you cause half of it.”

Logan pauses, his cigar halfway to his lips. He doesn’t answer right away, and the brief hesitation only makes your irritation spike. You press on, inching closer, voice laced with accusation.

“Why now?” you press. “Why drag me into this when you’ve never cared about anyone else in the crossfire?”

Logan finally turns to face you, exhaling a cloud of smoke before speaking, his expression hardened. “This ain’t about me ‘caring,’” he says flatly. “This is about survival. You killed a Sentinel, whether you like it or not. That puts a target on your back.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that very clear,” you bite out. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Why me? Why am I suddenly important to you?”

Logan’s eyes darken, drilling into yours. “You’re not important to me,” he says flatly. “But they won’t stop until they get you. The destruction that’ll come from that—if your stubborn ass fought back, which I know it would, by the way—would be much greater than anything we would cause.”

“Doubt that,” you snarl bitterly. You don’t linger for the sound of his response, spinning on your heel and walking back into your room, slamming the balcony door behind you.

The bed is large and you can’t deny how inviting it looks after the day you’ve had. You flop onto it face-first, letting out a long, drawn out sigh.

You’re barely able to reflect on the chaotic day you’ve had before your eyelids flutter shut, and you sink into a deep slumber, the exhaustion from everything catching up to you.

—

You’re jolted awake by a loud, aggressive knock on your bedroom door. The sound is so forceful it feels like the entire frame is rattling. You release a sound, half groan, half sigh, steeped in frustration. Your face is still buried in your pillow, and you curse whoever decided to ruin what little sleep you managed to get.

“Get up,” Logan’s gruff voice calls from the other side of the door. “We’re leaving for breakfast in ten.”

Ah yes. Of-fucking-course it's him. Who else would it be?

Dragging yourself out of bed, you throw on some clothes and make a half-hearted attempt to fix your hair before opening the door, ready to curse him, but he's already striding down the hallway, hardly bothering to check if you're following. You roll your eyes, your steps slow and begrudging as you move to follow

As you catch up, you can’t help but throw him a sideways glare. “Why are you acting like my personal bodyguard?”

“Gotta make sure you don’t do anything reckless.”

You scoff, crossing your arms as you fall into step beside him. “You don’t even know what I can do.”

Logan’s lips twitch into a lazy smirk, and you immediately want to wipe it off his face. “Exactly,” he says, his tone almost amused. “Which is why today, we’re gonna test you.”

You stop in your tracks, staring at his back. “Test me? What the hell does that mean?”

He stops too, turning to face you. “Means you’re gonna show me what you’re capable of.”

Teeth clenched, you feel the slow rise of aggravation mingling with apprehension. “I’m not some science experiment.”

“No,” he agrees, “but you’re not a regular person, either. You need to know your limits—and how to handle what’s coming.”

Groaning, you drag your hands down your face incredulously. “I don’t even know what to say back to that. All I know is that I’m hungry.”

—

The kitchen of Xavier’s mansion is bustling with activity as the two of you walk in. The rest of the team is gathered around a large table at the centre of the room, and you spot Jean, Cyclops, Storm, and a few others sitting together, chatting, but you feel no desire to join them.

Rather, you gravitate toward a smaller table by the window, hoping to get some peace while you choke down breakfast. The chair scrapes lightly as you pull it out and sit down, fully expecting to be left alone.

But to your surprise, Logan follows and plops down in the seat across from you.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

He shrugs and digs into his food. "Eating. You got a problem with that?"

You cast a quick look toward the large table where the rest of the team sits. It feels strange, having him eat with you, especially when the rest of his team is so obviously waiting for him to join them.

"No," you murmur, shaking your head as you return to your plate. "Just didn’t think you’d stray from the flock."

“They’re fine without me.”

You push your food around with your fork, trying to push past the heavy air of discomfort in the room. Everyone keeps glancing in your direction, and you sense their curiosity, the questions hovering in silence, but no one has the courage to ask. And honestly, you’re grateful for the space.

Just as you’re finishing up, a low voice catches your attention.

"I just don’t understand why they brought her here," Jean’s voice carries across the room, quieter than before, but still clear enough for you to hear. “She doesn’t seem like she has what it takes. It’s like they’re bringing in someone who’s—” She pauses, clearly thinking through her words. "Unstable. Weak.”

Tensing, your fork clatters onto your plate. The world around you dulls, and all you can hear is that word echoing in your head. Weak. You’ve been called a lot of things in your life, but never that.

Slowly, you push your chair back and stand up as you turn to face the table where she and the others are seated. “Say it louder, please,” you say calmly.

The chatter dies instantly, and suddenly, every set of eyes in the room finds you. Jean's face turns ashen, her eyes blown wide in shock. She wasn’t expecting you to overhear. Her mouth opens and closes, as if she’s trying to find a way to backtrack, but you know what you heard.

Before Jean can stammer out an excuse, Scott stands up, positioning himself between you and her, his jaw tight and his posture rigid. “You heard wrong,” he says sternly. “She didn’t mean anything by it.”

You take a calculated step forward, arms crossed in defiance. “Didn’t mean anything?” you repeat sarcastically. “She just called me weak. Right here. In front of everyone. You think I’m gonna let that slide?”

Scott’s jaw clenches tighter “She wasn’t trying to insult you. You’re new here. You don’t know how things work yet.”

“That’s the excuse?” you laugh dryly. “Maybe you should teach her how to keep her mouth shut instead of making assumptions about people she doesn’t know.”

If even possible, the friction between you swells, growing heavier with each passing second. Everyone in the room watches the standoff, some shifting uncomfortably in their seats, unsure of what’s going to happen next. You can feel Logan’s presence behind you, but he doesn’t interfere. He’s letting you handle this.

“You don’t belong here,” Scott states, like he’s trying to remind you of your place. “You’re not part of this team, and you sure as hell don’t understand what it takes to survive here.”

Raising an eyebrow, your lips curl into a smirk. “And what are you gonna do about it, One-eye? You gonna lecture me? Or better yet, why don’t you blast me with those laser eyes of yours? Show me how strong you are.”

His fists clench, and for a moment, you see the control slip. His visor glows red, just for a split second, as his anger spikes.

"Careful," you taunt, challenging him. "Wouldn’t want to lose control, would you? I'm sure you've never done that before."

That does it.

A beam shoots out from Scott’s visor. Fast, ferocious, and headed straight for you. There’s a collective gasp from the others, chairs scraping as people push back, shocked by the sudden escalation. But you don’t move. You stand your ground, your eyes locked onto Scott’s as the beam strikes you square in the chest.

You’re not knocked back, or worse, killed, as the energy from the blast surges into you. The energy seeps into your bones, crackling through every nerve. Your skin tingles as the power courses through you, your body absorbing every ounce of it. Once the assault is over, you raise your head, feeling your eyes and veins begin to glow with a deep, burning red.

Jean’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide in disbelief.

Unfortunately for you, you don't get the chance to blow him to pieces, because Logan flies forward and grabs your arm, pulling you out of the room. Nobody else moves—too stunned—as he drags you into the hallway. You blink your eyes, the glow fading, but you can feel the residual energy from Scott’s blast still buzzing under your skin.

Both out of sight, he finally releases you.

You glare at him, still rattled from the confrontation. “What the hell? Why'd you interfere?”

He just shrugs, completely unfazed. “You handled yourself enough. Now we know what you can do. Follow me.”

“Follow you where?” you ask.

He motions down the hallway. “Danger Room. We’re gonna push those limits a little further.”

Gawking at him for a second, it takes a moment, but then you smirk. You want to know just how far your powers can go.

—

“Fuck!” you curse as you’re flung backward, your body slamming against a stone wall. Your back hits hard, knocking the wind out of you as the simulated-Sentinel hurls a car in your direction. The screech of metal fills the air as the vehicle crashes just mere inches from where you were standing moments ago.

Rubble showers from above, the robot in front of you towering menacingly. Raising its arm, another blast begins charging in its palm, ready to incinerate you.

You scramble to your feet, heart pounding in your chest as you sprint away, ducking and weaving between the wreckage of cars and crumbling buildings that make up the simulated cityscape. The Sentinel fires again, the blast narrowly missing as you dodge behind an overturned truck. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, every muscle screaming in protest.

I can’t keep this up.

Another blast lights up the area around you, and you dive out of the way, the heat of the attack singeing your skin. You’re quick, but not quick enough to outrun the onslaught from this machine.

Then it hits you—you don’t have to outrun it.

You remember the blast from way back, how your body absorbed the energy, and how in the dining hall, you took on Scott’s beam like it was nothing. You can do it again. You can take its power and turn it back on itself.

Gritting your teeth, you stop running. The air buzzes with electricity, the earth trembling beneath you as the next shot hurtles your way.

It hammers into your chest, and once again, your body is filled with energy. In an instant, you leap into the air, propelled by the newfound strength coursing through your body, and the ground disappears beneath you as you soar upward.

At the peak of your jump, you clench your fist, channeling all that power into one focused point. Then, you bring your fist down on the Sentinel’s head, the impact echoing through the simulation as your punch connects, and the robot’s head shatters under the blow, metal fragments flying in every direction as its massive body crumples to the ground.

Sparks shoot out of its severed neck, and with a final groan of machinery, the robot collapses into a heap of broken parts at your feet.

“Good work,” Logan’s voice crackles over the comms, far too calm for what you’ve just been through. “Let’s see how you handle another.”

There’s no time for more than a muttered curse under your breath, because another Sentinel is dropped into the simulation. This one’s faster, more agile, and doesn’t waste time by charging up blasts.

It exists solely to hunt you down.

“Cut me some slack,” you groan, half out of breath as you duck behind the ruins of a building. Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, adrenaline coursing through you like a wildfire.

This one isn’t like the last. It’s not using energy blasts—it’s fast, agile, and persistent. It rushes toward you, its massive hands swiping through the air, tearing through the simulated city with ease.

Grinding your teeth, a wave of exasperation takes over. This fight is harder, the machine barely giving you a chance to react, and your body is already starting to wear down. Your mind races, desperate for a solution as you sidestep its attacks, trying to stay one step ahead. You feel cornered, trapped.

The frustration builds, growing into something more, and before you realize it, that frustration becomes fuel. It ignites inside you, your own emotions transforming into energy, pushing past the limits you didn’t know you had.

Your veins pulse, your eyes glowing white this time, not from absorbed power but from something deeper—your own anger, your own strength. The energy bubbles inside you, filling every cell of your body until you can’t hold it back anymore.

With a scream, you release it, propelling a massive ball of crackling energy hurling toward the Sentinel. The impact is immediate, ripping through the metal and bursting into a brilliant, blinding light. It sends shockwave through the entire simulation, the machine imploding, its parts scattering across the battlefield.

And when the light fades, the Sentinel is gone—nothing more than a smouldering heap of twisted metal.

You stand there, chest heaving, the glow in your eyes slowly fading as the last traces of energy drain from your body. Your knees buckle, and before you know it, you crumble to the ground, utterly exhausted.

The simulation flickers for a moment, then abruptly shuts off, the room returning to its normal, metallic walls as the fake cityscape disappears. You’re still on the floor, gasping for breath, when Logan steps into view, arms crossed as he peers down at you with a pleased grin.

“Well,” he says, voice calm, “that wasn’t too bad.”

You shoot him a glare from the ground, too tired to move. “You… are such… an asshole.”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Get up. We’re just getting started.”

—

He was right. You were just getting started.

The thought gnaws at you as you trudge alongside Logan, heading back to your room to clean up before dinner. Every muscle in your body aches, and you can already feel the soreness creeping in, promising a week of pain. You’re starting to suspect this is Logan’s way of getting back at you for all the snark and attitude you’ve thrown his way, but damn, is it painful. You don’t even want to think about how much worse you’re going to feel in the morning.

You feel like a zombie, dragging your feet, barely able to keep your eyes open. Your limbs feel heavy, like they’re made of lead, and each step invites fresh wave of exhaustion through your body. The man with you, of course, seems perfectly fine. He walks a few steps ahead of you, not even winded from the grueling day of combat drills, sparring, and whatever else he thought up to make sure you were put through the wringer.

“Maybe I should be a little nicer to you,” you rationalize, but who are you kidding.

With a terse grunt, he acknowledges you by tilting his head back. “You’ll live.”

You roll your eyes, though it’s half-hearted at best. You don’t even have the energy to be annoyed right now.

Upon reaching your room, you feel like you could collapse right then and there. You mumble something vaguely resembling ‘see you later’ to Logan before slipping inside, the door clicking shut behind you.

The first thing you do is toss your bag onto the floor, not caring where it lands, and head straight for the bathroom. You peel off your sweaty, dirt-covered clothes and step into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the grime of the day.

After that quick, blissful shower, you drag yourself out, towel off, and pull on the first comfortable clothes you can find. Your bed is calling to you, and it doesn’t take long for you to lie down on it. The softness of the mattress beneath you is heaven, and you think you might just fall asleep right there and take a small nap before heading to eat.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you notice the light pouring in through the balcony doors. The warm, golden glow of the setting sun catches your attention, and despite how drained you are, you find yourself turning to look.

What you see is breathtaking. Shades of pink, orange, and deep purple.

It’s too beautiful to ignore.

Groaning again, you force yourself to sit up, rubbing your eyes. You can’t help it. Something about the sight draws you in, and before you know it, you’re standing and heading toward the balcony. You slide the door open and step outside, the evening breeze washing over you as you lean against the railing, taking in the view.

A few minutes pass, the world around you quiet except for the gentle rustling of the leaves in the wind. The sound of Logan’s door sliding breaks your focus. You glance over just as he steps out onto his side of the shared balcony, wearing nothing but a white tank top and jeans.

Saying nothing, he steps beside you at the railing, resting against it as his eyes scan the horizon.

You sneak a look at him out of the corner of your eye, trying not to make it obvious. His arms are crossed over the railing, and it’s almst impossible not to notice the way the tank top lets you see his biceps, the muscles in his arms strong from the day’s activity. You are a woman, after all.

He looks relaxed. His stubble catches the last bits of the sunlight, and as your gaze travels upward, you notice something you hadn’t bothered to see before.

The crinkles at the sides of his eyes. They’re faint, barely there, but in this light, they’re more visible, adding something unexpectedly... soft to his otherwise intimidating appearance.

Cute, you think absentmindedly, then pause.

What the fuck?

You snap your gaze back to the sunset, feeling a sudden surge of embarrassment creeping up your neck. You just spent the entire day getting your ass handed to you by this man, and now you’re here checking out his arms? His arms? And thinking the crinkles around his eyes are cute? Suppressing a groan, you want to slap yourself for even entertaining the thought.

Nope. Absolutely not. You’re not going down that road.

Taking a deep breath, you try to bring your attention back to the sunset. The reason you went outside to begin with. You have no idea why you’re suddenly noticing these things about him—probably exhaustion making your brain short-circuit.

Yup. That’s it.

He shifts slightly beside you, breaking the silence. “Nice view"

You nod, swallowing down the weird feelings swirling in your head. “Yeah,” you mumble, not trusting yourself to say anything more without sounding ridiculous.

The two of you stand there for a few more minutes, watching as the last rays of the sun disappear, the sky dimming into deep purples and blues. But the minute your thoughts start to drift back to him, you straighten up, clapping your hands together and quickly turning on your heel to head back inside.

“Well, I’m done,” you say abruptly. “I’m gonna crash.”

Logan doesn’t move, but you can feel his eyes following you as you slide the door closed behind you, your mind still reeling from whatever the hell that was.

Collapsing back onto your bed, you pull the covers up to your chin, determined to forget about the whole thing.

—

A few hours later, when it’s dark out, you finally wake up. The room is dim, and for a moment, you just lie there, blinking at the ceiling. As you start to roll over, something catches your attention—a smell.

It's warm, savoury. Your stomach growls almost immediately, making you realize with a start that you slept through dinner.

Groggily, you sit up, rubbing your eyes, and that’s when you spot it—a tray of food sitting on the desk in your room. You can make out the outline of a warm meal: some kind of stew, a couple of bread rolls, and what looks like a glass of water. Your stomach growls again, louder this time, as you climb out of bed and shuffle toward the desk, turning on the light.

Next to the tray, there’s a small note:

Figured you’d be too tired to get dinner. Eat up.

– L

You stare at the note. Logan? Bringing you food? It doesn’t exactly fit with the version of him you’ve been dealing with all day, but then again, there seems to be a lot about him that doesn’t quite fit the mold you expected.

Too hungry to keep thinking and not eat, you set the note down and grab the spoon, dipping it into the stew. The first bite warms you from the inside out, and you let out an involuntary sigh of relief.

Surprisingly flavourful—rich and nourishing, it’s the perfect remedy for the exhausting day behind you

Still, you can’t help your eyes from wandering back to the note. Maybe it really is the fatigue messing with your head again, making you chalk it up to be something it’s not.

—

The next morning, you're not woken up by banging on your door, which is a relief. You stretch, the soreness still lingering but not nearly as bad as you expected. After freshening up and pulling on some clothes, you step into the hallway, and unexpectedly, Logan is already waiting for you.

He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and you blink at him, still waking up, unsure why he’s there. “Uh... morning?” you get out, albeit you can’t hide the confusion in your tone.

A short nod in greeting. “Morning. Ready for breakfast?”

You hesitate for a moment, then decide to take the plunge. “Yeah I am, but…um, thanks for the food last night, it was good.” you say quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it.

The gesture had caught you off guard, and though you don’t want to make a fuss, it’s worth noting

“Don’t mention it,” he shrugs casually.

Nodding in understanding, you’re ready to move on when he adds, almost offhandedly, “Y’know, you’re actually kinda pretty when you’re asleep. Not being a little shit helps.”

You freeze mid-step, your mind short-circuiting for a moment as you process the words that just left his lips.

Flustered and irritated all at once, you glare at him. “Excuse me?”

Logan smirks, the corners of his mouth twitching as he starts walking down the hall toward the kitchen. “You heard me.”

Your face heats up. “I am not a little shit,” you yelp, quickening your pace to catch up to him.

“Could’ve fooled me,” he says, gazing at you from over his shoulder. You open your mouth to fire back, but the smug look in his eyes makes you hesitate.

He’s messing with you on purpose.

Asshole, you think, fuming but trying to ignore the way your stomach flipped when he called you pretty.

—

The kitchen goes silent the moment you and Logan step through the door, a noticeable difference from yesterday. All eyes are locked on you, the pressure in the room almost solid, begging to be cut through.

Students and X-Men alike are watching, probably expecting some kind of replay of the day prior's events, but you pay them no mind, keeping your eyes straight ahead and making a beeline for a table at the back.

You drop into a seat, picking up a piece of toast and acting like the room isn’t on high alert. Logan joins you again without a word, sitting across from you and digging into his food. He doesn’t even glance at the others, as if the room full of curious onlookers doesn’t exist.

The only sounds are the clink of silverware and voices slowly picking up again as people realize nothing dramatic is about to happen.

Chewing, you glance at the man across from you, still quietly working through his meal. You swallow, then clear your throat. “So... what’s the plan for today?”

He looks up from his plate. “Charles wants to see you this morning.”

You frown, unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Why? Did I break something without knowing it?”

He snorts, shaking his head. “No, you’re not in trouble, smartass. He’s just gonna fill you in on some things. Mainly the Sentinels.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You need to know what you’re up against, what we’re all dealing with. He’ll catch you up to speed.”

“Great,” you mutter. “More bad news.”

The clawed mutant leans back in his chair, watching you for a moment before speaking again. “Look, it’s not gonna be fun, but you need to know. Better to hear it from him than from me.”

“I’ll take that as your way of saying ‘good luck,” you breathe out.

He smirks. “You’re gonna need it.”

Logan finishes his meal and stands up, leaving his empty plate behind. “I’ll drop you off at Charles’s office. You’ll be with him for the morning.”

You follow suit, pushing away your half-eaten plate. “Fantastic,” you mumble sarcastically, but at the same time, you know this is necessary. After all, the threat you’re dealing with is real, and being ignorant about it won’t do you any good.

—

“So, how can they be stopped?”

You ask the question before you even sit down. Charles is already waiting for you in his office, his hands folded neatly on the desk, his gaze calm and soft.

He takes a measured breath, glancing toward the window for a moment before responding. “Stopping the Sentinels is... complicated. They’ve grown more advanced than we ever anticipated.”

“I gathered that.”

“They are highly adaptive machines,” he continues. “Designed to hunt and neutralize mutants, they learn from every encounter. They absorb information, adjust tactics, and over time, they become more effective.”

His words make you squirm with discomfort, and you glance around the room, trying to distract yourself from the knot forming in your stomach.

“And now I’m one of their targets,” you say quietly, more to yourself than to him.

Leaning forward slightly, he says, “Yes. They’ve already locked onto you because of your encounter with them. They don’t differentiate between self-defence and aggression. They see you as a target, simply because you fought back.”

You exhale sharply. “So, what’s your plan?”

Charles meets your gaze. “There is a command center—a hub that controls their network. If we can locate it and destroy it, we believe it will disrupt the entire Sentinel operation. Without the command structure, the Sentinels will become non-functional.”

You stare for a beat, mentally piecing together the details. “You believe?”

“It’s our best theory,” he says evenly. “We’ve been gathering intel for some time now. And we’re planning a mission. A final push to put an end to this threat once and for all.”

The words linger, thick and weighty, in the space between you, You can sense where this is going. Your fingers drum against your arm, a nervous habit you can’t seem to shake.

“You want me to be a part of it.”

He remains unfazed. “I believe you have an ability that could be crucial to the mission. You’ve already demonstrated your capability against the Sentinels in training yesterday, and in real life.”

A bitter scoff escapes your lips before you can stifle it. “Yeah, but I’m not one of you. I don’t want to be part of some... grand battle. That’s not me.”

Watching you closely, his gaze is soft with comprehension. “I understand your reluctance,” he says gently. “But running, hiding... it won’t change the fact that they will find you. Fighting may not have been your choice, but now it is your reality.”

Standing, you begin to pace the room. “This is exactly the problem I have with your team,” you say, stopping near the window, staring out at the garden. “We hardly know eachother, yet you want me to be part of some mission that could very well be catastophic. It’s like you don’t care about anything except the big picture.”

Charles’s expression doesn’t change. He definitely expected this. “We aren’t perfect,” he admits, “and our battles have left scars. But this is about survival. For all of us. For you.”

Turning back to face him, you narrow your eyes. “And if I say no?”

“I won’t force you,” His voice is understanding. “The choice is yours. But know that the Sentinels will not stop. You can avoid the fight for as long as you like, but eventually, it will come to you.”

It’s as if you're stuck, with nowhere to turn, cornered by a reality you didn’t want any part of. Avoiding it doesn’t seem like an option anymore, but fighting alongside the X-Men feels like betraying everything you’ve tried to distance yourself from.

Sighing, “I’ll think about it.”

—

When you get back to your room, the first thing you do is swing open your balcony door and step outside. The afternoon sun comes over you like a blanket, warming you up, and relieving some of the strain in your muscles. Logan is out on the balcony too, leaning against the railing, a cigar lit between his fingers. It’s a sight you think you should get used to.

His eyes flick to you when you approach, but he doesn’t say anything at first. Without a word, he holds the roll of tobacco out toward you, as if he knows exactly what’s on your mind.

You pause briefly, for just a second before taking it from him. The rich, earthy taste of the cigar fills your mouth as you inhale deeply, the smoke heavy and warm in your lungs. There’s something grounding about it, even though the burn is rough against your throat. You let out a slow exhale, watching the smoke curl into the night air as you lean next to him against the railing.

“How’d it go?” he asks gruffly.

“He wants me to join you guys on the mission.”

At first, Logan doesn’t react, then, he just takes the cigar back, puffing on it and blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. “What do you want to do?”

It’s the same question that’s been clawing at your insides since you left Charles’s office. What do you want? It feels like the answer should be simple, but it’s anything but.

“I don’t know,” you confess quietly. “I want to get rid of the threat and go back to my normal life, but if I do, then I'd just become the very thing I'm against, right? I can’t join you guys, that’s not who I am.”

He hums softly.

Shifting a bit, you try to find the words to explain the knot of irritation tangled inside you. “I get it, you know? I get why you guys do what you do. Someone has to. But the way you do it—so carefree about everything. It’s like the destruction, the people, the lives caught in the midst of everything—it doesn’t even phase you.”

“We don’t do it carefree,” he says lowly. Inhaling into the cigar once more, the tip glowing red. “But sometimes, you gotta make a choice between bad and worse. People get hurt. But if we don’t stop the threats, a lot more people are gonna die.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the tension coil tighter in your chest. “And that’s what I hate about it.”

Flicking the ash from the end of his cigar, his eyes are distant, lost in thought momentarily before he responds. “I’m not gonna lie to you and say it’s easy. It ain’t. We all carry the weight of the things we’ve done—the things we couldn’t stop. But if not us, then who?”

“That’s an impossible decision,” you say. There’s no way you can go into this fight, knowing how much of a toll it’s going to take on everything. The fight itself is such a small piece to the puzzle.

Logan leans his elbows on the railing. “You think I wanted this?” he asks, his voice low, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I was just like you. Didn’t want nothin’ to do with the team or their battles.”

The comparison makes you grimace. “Great. That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

He chuckles, the sound rough but not unkind. “I’m serious, bub. For years, I didn’t want to be part of this... circus. Figured I’d be better off on my own, that I was above it all.”

You quirk a brow. “Then what changed?”

“It’s not like a switch flipped,” he replies, a bit quieter. “I just realized that fighting alone is harder than fighting with a team. The X-Men... they gave me somethin’. A place. Belonging. Doesn’t mean I agree with everything they do, but it’s better than wanderin’.”

That makes you scoff. “Yeah, well, you heard it yourself. Scott said I don’t belong here. Jean thinks I’m weak. Doesn’t exactly scream ‘welcome to the team,’ does it?”

His brow furrows, his eyes narrowing, as he straightens and looks at you. “Scott talks too much, and Jean—she’s cautious. Doesn’t mean she’s right.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s wrong either,” you mumble. “They don’t trust me.”

“They didn’t trust me when I first joined either, but you get better. You learn.”

“I don’t want to be like you,” you hiss before you can stop yourself, and you immediately regret the heat in your words.

He doesn’t look offended—just tired. “Didn’t say you should,” he starts. “But you can’t keep shunnin’ us.”

“So what do I do now?”

Taking one last drag of his cigar before flicking it over the balcony railing, Logan watches the embers fall before he speaks. “The mission’s in a week. You’ve got that long to figure it out.”

He turns to leave, but before he goes, he glimpses at you from over his shoulder. “This battle, it’s inevitable. Question is—how do you want to face it?”

—

You’ve never been so conflicted. This choice–to join, or not to join—is probably the hardest decision you’ve had to make in your entire life. You have seen first hand what happens when the X-men decide to stop a threat. What innocent people have to go through to rebuild their lives from the ground up. Both literally and figuratively.

And to then become someone who causes that pain? It feels like betrayal. Like going against yourself—your morals.

But then there’s the other side of it—the part of you that knows sitting here, doing nothing, isn’t right either. You know you have the strength to fight back. You have the power to help. And doing nothing… doesn’t that make you just as bad? If you have the ability to stop something, to protect people, and you don’t—what does that make you?

It’s a lose-lose situation. The X-Men don’t even want you there—aside from Logan and Charles. You can see it in the way their eyes follow you wherever you go, untrusting. They’ve made their opinion on you clear.

You lower your head into your hands, stressed. You can’t join a team that doesn’t want you, but sitting on the sidelines when you could be fighting—that makes you feel like a coward. And maybe even worse—a bad person.

Finally, with a deep breath, you come to a decision. It’s not perfect, and it sure as hell doesn’t feel good, but it’s the only choice you can make right now. You’ll join them—for this mission only.

You’ll help take down the Sentinels, and then, when it’s done, you’ll leave. You’ll go back to your life, maybe you can find a middle ground, where you’re not one of them, but you’re no longer hiding from the mutant part of yourself.

If something happens, if you do something you regret, then you'll just have to live with it.

—

In the afternoon, you don’t do much. You were supposed to be training with Logan, but Charles had called him into a quick meeting, leaving you to wander the halls aimlessly.

Rounding a corner, you stop short when you see the rest of the team—Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Hank—talking near a meeting room. They’re deep in conversation, but as soon as you come into view, their attention shifts toward you.

Your stomach tightens, and for a brief second, you consider just turning around and walking in the other direction. But it’s too late; they’ve already seen you.

Jean’s eyes meet yours, and her expression flickers with something that looks like discomfort before she quickly smooths it over. “Hey,” she says carefully. “I just wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you didn’t belong.”

Her tone is polite, but distant. It’s clear this apology isn’t driven by genuine remorse—it’s more about smoothing over the awkwardness from yesterday’s standoff. You can feel that. You see the way she looks at you, not quite meeting your eyes, and you know this is just a formality for her.

Still, you’re not looking to start more drama, and you don’t want to engage in any more confrontations, especially when you’re already planning to leave. You nod, keeping your expression neutral. “It’s fine. Let’s just move on.”

Behind her, you catch a glimpse of Scott, his arms crossed. Even though you can’t see his eyes, it’s obvious he’s glaring at you.

Ororo steps forward, her hand finding your arm, and the touch is gentle, reassuring. “Joining the team isn’t easy,” she says kindly. “But we’ve all faced our own challenges. If you ever need someone to talk to, or help with anything, I’m here.”

“You’ve got potential,” Hank chips in from beside her. “It takes time to settle in, but I’m sure you’ll find your place.”

His words are well-meaning, and you can see that he believes what he’s saying. But what they don’t know is that you’ve already made up your mind. You’re not staying any longer than you have to.

You don’t plan on finding your place here because, frankly, you don’t believe there is one for you. Not with Scott’s distrust, Jean’s cautious distance, and the way you know you can’t be part of a team that doesn’t care about anything but themselves. You keep your thoughts to yourself, pressing your lips into a thin smile instead.

“Yeah,” you say vaguely, not wanting to ruin the moment. “Thanks.”

“I guess we’ll all see soon enough,” Your eyes snap to Scott, who has finally decided to break his silence. His voice is cold, but you can feel and edge to it, one that’s trying to provoke you.

You meet his gaze—or at least the visor—and feel your jaw tighten. “Guess so,” you reply, matching his tone. Turning, you walk away, finding another place to lounge until Logan is free.

—

The mansion’s library is massive, filled with towering shelves and the scent of old books. It’s quieter here, the kind of silence you can sink into, and after the awkward run-in with the rest of the team, it feels like the perfect place to retreat. You find a comfortable armchair tucked into a corner, grab a random book off the shelf—some old novel you’ve never heard of—and settle in.

For a while, you manage to lose yourself in the pages. The story isn’t particularly gripping, but it’s enough to take your mind off of things. But then, a shadow falls over you, covering the words in a dark grey haze.

“Hey, bub.”

You blink, looking up to find Logan standing over you. “What?” you ask, annoyed at being interrupted but also not surprised. It’s Logan, after all.

“You’ve been hiding in here long enough,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, time to head back.”

Rolling your eyes you snap the book shut, dropping it onto the table beside you. “I wasn’t hiding, I was reading,” you shoot back, standing up and stretching out your legs. “There’s a difference, y’know.”

“Sure there is,” he huffs, clearly not buying it. “Let’s go.”

As you reach the hallway where your rooms are, Logan pauses, glancing toward his door. “You wanna come in for a bit? Talk?”

You’re a little bit taken aback. You didn’t peg him as the "sit down and talk" type, but he seems genuine. Or maybe he wants to keep you awake for dinner this time. Either way, you nod. “Sure.”

Inside his room, it’s about what you’d expect—minimalist, practical, with a few personal touches. A bed that looks like it’s seen better days, a couple of old books, and the scent of cigars lingering in the air. Logan sits down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, and gestures for you to join him.

There’s a moment where you’re just standing there, staring, but then you flop down beside him, sitting cross-legged at the edge of the bed. For a few beats, there’s silence. Logan pulls out a cigar but doesn’t light it, just turns it between his fingers.

“I’ve decided,” you say finally, breaking the quiet. “I’ll go on the mission.”

He doesn’t respond, his eyes flicking to yours, waiting for you to continue.

“But,” you add, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m not promising to stay after. This doesn’t mean I’m all in on your little X-Men gig.”

He grunts, a half-smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Knew you’d say that.”

Your brows pinch together your, lips pulling into a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means you’re stubborn as hell,” he teases.“Always gotta fight against the grain, even when you know what’s best for you.”

Sighing, you turn your head to look at him fully. “I truly believe you are the only person who actually believes that.”

He chuckles softly but doesn’t argue. “Charles gave me more details about the mission.”

That catches your attention, and you sit up a little straighter. “Yeah? Where are we going?”

Logan hesitates for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “It’s... in the city.”

“The city? What city?”

“New York.”

Your heart drops. “New York?” You repeat, your voice rising in disbelief.

Giving you a slow nod, it’s like he's gauging your reaction. “The Sentinels’ command centre is located in some high-security facility downtown.”

You push yourself up off the bed, pacing across the room. “So, what, we are just going to storm in? Into one of the most populated cities in the world? Do you realize how many people could get caught in the middle of that?”

He stands up after you, but he doesn’t try to stop your pacing. “We’ve fought in cities before. We know what we’re doing.”

You whip around to face him. “Yeah, you’ve fought in cities before, and destroyed them! Some places are still rebuilding, and it’s been years!”

“I get it, alright?” He says, taking a step closer to you. “It’s not perfect. But if we don’t stop the Sentinels now, it’ll be a hell of a lot worse than a few broken buildings.”

“‘A few broken buildings’?” you echo. “What about the casualties that’ll come from it? We’re talking about innocent lives here, Logan!”

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. “I know that! You think I don’t know what’s at stake? But we don’t have another option. We need to hit them where it counts, and that’s in the middle of the damn city.”

“There has to be a better way,” you plead. "Can't we try and evacuate everyone beforehand?"

"No," he says remorsefully. "If we do that, the Sentinels will catch on. It's unavoidable."

“I can't accept that," you say.

Logan’s eyes meet yours, and for the first time, there’s a flash of something more vulnerable in his gaze. “I’ll talk to the team. I’ll make sure we go in smart. We’ll try our best to keep people safe. I promise you that.”

You stop pacing, your frustration still simmering but tempered by his words. It’s not exactly the reassurance you were hoping for, but the sincerity in his voice gets to you.

“And what if you can’t?” you challenge quietly.

His face softens just a bit, and he steps closer. “We deal with it, and we’ll do everything we can to make it right.”

He watches you, his eyes searching yours. “Look, I get why you’re pissed. I’d be too if I were you," he continues. "But we don’t have time to sit around debating. I’ll do what I can to keep it from getting ugly. That’s the best I can offer.”

Letting out a heavy sigh, you know there’s no way around it. “Fine. Just... make sure the team knows. No reckless destruction, alright?”

Logan’s lips curve into a small smirk, but there’s an underlying tenderness to it. “I promise.”

—

The last few days before the the mission zip by in a flash. Each day, your muscles ache, and exhaustion clings to you like a second skin. You spend most of your time either training or collapsed in your room, too tired to do much else.

Except one afternoon, you sit in on a lecture, because it turns out, not only is Logan a huge pain in the ass, he’s also a professor.

Curiosity got the better of you, you’d say. The topic—mutant biology—sounds interesting enough, and you’ve heard from some of the students within the hallways that his classes are, well, something. So, naturally, you had to see it for yourself.

You slip into the lecture hall just as Logan starts speaking. He’s standing at the front of the room, pointing to some diagram on the chalkboard. The students around you are already scribbling notes, staring at him with wide-eyed fascination—or fear, perhaps. He has that effect on people.

Finding a seat in the back, you hurry over, trying to keep quiet, not wanting to interrupt. But the second you sit down, you feel Logan’s eyes on you, his voice pausing for just a moment. You look up, catching his gaze.

“Well, well, look who decided to join us,” he says, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“Just here to observe, don’t mind me,” you huff, sinking back into the seat.

The lecture goes on, and to your surprise, Logan’s actually a decent teacher. He explains complex concepts with clarity, not that you’d actually tell him that. It’s quite interesting, if you’re being honest.

You lean back in your chair, listening, but you’re not exactly paying close attention. That is, until he stops the lesson to single you out. “Hey, you in the back,” he says. “Since you’re just ‘observing,’ how about answering a question?”

“Me?” You blink, caught off guard.

“Yeah, you,” he confirms, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’ve been sittin’ there long enough. Time to show the class what you’ve learned.”

“I wasn’t exactly paying attention,” you respond tightly, gritting your teeth together, holding yourself back from a few choice words.

The class falls silent, the students watching the exchange with wide eyes. You can practically feel their amusement radiating from them as Logan raises an eyebrow.

“That’s obvious,” he deadpans, eliciting a few snickers from the front row. “So, maybe you’ll start now. Can you explain the connection between mutation and enhanced physical abilities?”

Staring back at him blankly, you fold your arms across your chest. “Not my area of expertise, Professor Wolverine.”

He doesn’t seem fazed as the room erupts into quiet laughter. A small sigh, "if you’re gonna sit in on my class, you could at least try to learn something.”

“No thanks.”

It’s obvious that this little back-and-forth is amusing to the class. If you were anyone else, he probably would have kicked you out by now. One of the students leans toward another and whispers something, and you catch the way their eyes dart between you and the professor.

“Alright, enough,” Logan says, trying to regroup the class, turning back to the chalkboard. “We’ve got a lot to cover, and some of us actually want to learn.” He casts you a sideways glance, and you can’t help but scoff.

When the lecture ends, the students file out quickly, but not without a few lingering glances in your direction. You’re making your way to the door when Logan grabs your arm, preventing you from moving. “You should’ve just answered the damn question,” he mutters.

“I didn’t know the answer,” you shoot back, shifting up to face him. “And I didn’t come here to get grilled in front of your students.”

He grunts, his expression softening just a bit. “Just tryin’ to get you to pay attention, is all.”

Before you can respond, you catch a flicker of movement in Logan’s gaze, his eyes darting briefly down to your lips. The shift is so subtle, so minute, but also so there.

Where did that come from?

Clearing your throat, you look away, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe ask one of your actual students next time.”

He chuckles under his breath. “Not as fun.”

—

During this time, you occasionally explore the mansion, but by the time evening rolls around, you’re usually too wiped out to care. Logan’s a beast in the training room, and with no real combat experience of your own, you’re left scrambling just to keep up.

However, on the last day before the assignment, something finally clicks.

You’re in the middle of a sparring match, circling each other, both of you drenched in sweat. Logan’s eyes are sharp, watching your every move, as if he’s waiting for you to slip up. His smirk is just as infuriating as ever, like he knows exactly how this will end.

“Gonna stand there all day, or you actually planning to make a move?” he taunts, dodging as you swing at him.

You grit your teeth, refusing to let him get in your head. You’re tired—completely worn out—but you push through how depleted you feel, focusing on his movements. He feints to the left, and you react on instinct, dodging his punch and sweeping your leg low.

Before you know it, Logan’s on the ground.

Quickly, you scramble to straddle him and hold him down. You did it—you actually got him!

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as you look down at him. Beneath you, his chest rises and falls, and his eyes meet yours. His gaze drifts lower, and you notice his fingers twitching at his sides, like he's fighting some internal battle.

When his eyes travel up to yours again, something in his expression makes you swallow hard and panic.

"Hell no!" you blurt out, breaking the moment with a sudden yelp. You scramble off of him, putting some much-needed distance between you.

He sits up, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow, his features unreadable. Then, as if nothing just happened, he smirks. “You finally got me. Took you long enough.”

You huff, still trying to shake off the weird atmosphere. “Yeah, don’t get too comfortable. Next time won’t take as long.”

Chuckling, he gets up to his feet and dusts himself off. He glances down at his watch, then back at you. “Look at that. It’s dinner time. Last meal before the mission.”

You wrinkle your nose. “I’m not really in the mood. Think I’ll just grab something later.”

He crosses his arms, giving you a look. “You can’t avoid them forever.”

“I’m not avoiding anyone,” you protest, though you know it sounds weak. “I just... don’t feel like sitting around making small talk, especially before... you know, tomorrow.”

He lets out a sigh, stepping closer. “Look, it’s the last night before everything kicks off. You should join us—one last meal, then you can go back to brooding in your room if you want.”

“I don’t brood,” you glare.

“Right,” he says, even though you know he’s not actually agreeing. “You gonna come or do I need to drag you?”

“You wouldn’t.”

Logan raises an eyebrow, like he’s daring you to test him. You sigh, knowing you’re not going to win this one.

“Fine,” you grumble, wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. “But I’m not talking to Scott.”

His grin widens, and he gestures for you to follow him.

—

So, here you are, sitting at the dining table for the first time with the rest of the team. It feels weird, almost surreal, to be part of this group—especially when you’re not even sure you want to be.

You idly prod your meal, feeling out of place. It isn’t long before Hank turns to you with a curious smile. “So, are you feeling ready for tomorrow?”

Just as you draw breath to speak, Scott's voice interrupts, cold and cutting. “She’s going to be a liability.”

Your fork halts mid-motion, and in an instant, the tension that had been fading throughout the week comes back full throttle. The clatter of dishes around you fades as everyone’s attention shifts to Scott’s biting remark.

He doesn’t look at you—just stares straight ahead, as if unable to own up to even himself. You’re so pissed off that you don't even notice the voice that speaks at the same time you do.

“Shut up, Summers,”

“Shut up, One-Eye”

It’s like the entire room goes silent. Jean glances between you and Logan, her brows raised, and Hank looks mildly shocked, though he tries to hide it with a quick sip of water. You can practically feel the heat of Scott’s glare, even through the visor. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, a loud laugh breaks the tension.

Ororo, sitting beside Logan, is chuckling, shaking her head with an amused grin on her face. “You two really are perfect for each other,” she says.

Of all the things you were expecting to hear, that was not one of them. “W-what?” you stammer, mouth dropping open in shock.

She just smiles, eyes twinkling. “Just an observation.”

You know your face is burning, and when you glance over at Logan, you notice something unusual—the tips of his ears are red.

That only makes things worse. Especially after what happened while sparring earlier. You turn your focus onto your plate, trying to hide your rattled state by shoving a forkful of food into your mouth.

Perfect for each other? Yeah, right.

But when you peek up at him again through your lashes , making eye contact for just a second before he looks away, your heart skips a beat.

You’re screwed.

—

That night, you barely sleep. Whether it's from the nerves about the mission, or from your jumbled-up thoughts about a certain someone, you can't tell. In any case, you’re wide awake.

You keep fighting the urge to go out onto the balcony—you know the cool night air would help calm you down, and the quiet would give you space to breathe. But there’s a problem. You’re not sure you want to run into Logan again. After Ororo’s comment about the two of you being perfect for each other, you don't think you could trust yourself around him.

With a frustrated sigh, you toss and turn in bed, kicking off the sheets and then pulling them back up, trying to find a comfortable position. But it’s no use.

You’re about to throw the pillow across the room out of sheer annoyance, when there’s a knock on your door.

You freeze. Who could possibly—

“Stop tossing around like a maniac, I can hear you from inside my room” Logan’s rough voice grumbles from the other side.

Goddamn it. It's always him.

Your eyes widen, and you sit up in bed. “What the hell?” you call back, feeling both surprise and embarrassment.

The door creaks open slightly, and Logan leans against the frame, arms crossed, his usual scowl on his face. “You’re keepin’ the whole damn mansion up with all that noise.”

“I didn’t realize you had super hearing,” you mutter, pulling the blanket up to your chest, feeling a little exposed.

He raises an eyebrow and steps into the room, closing the door behind him. “Doesn’t take super hearing to catch that all that ruckus,” he says, walking over and sitting down on the edge of your bed without waiting for an invitation.

You sit up a little straighter, your heart still racing. “What are you doing here, Logan?”

Shrugging, he leans back against the headboard, his arms crossing over his chest. “Figured you might need to talk or somethin’. You’re clearly not sleeping.”

Moving to sit beside him, you lean back against the headboard, your shoulder just brushing his. “I’m just… nervous, I guess.”

He turns his head slightly, glancing at you. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got more strength in you than you realize.”

His words sink in, and you bite your lip. “What if I mess up? What if I end up hurting someone, or doing more harm than good?”

"Don't think about that," he says. "Just be in the moment. You'll know what to do."

Nodding, you feel your eyelids grow heavier, and you find yourself sinking further into the comfort of the bed, your head dipping lower. Being here, on your bed, next to Logan, is strangely comforting. His scent, combined with his voice, starts to lull you into a strange sense of peace.

“I don’t know if I—” you start to say, but your words trail off, your voice barely a whisper. You don't know when it happens, but your eyes close, and your head gently falls onto his shoulder.

You’re too tired to feel embarrassed, too comfortable to pull away. His body is solid and warm, and the rhythm of his breathing is soothing.

And when you wake up the next morning, you find yourself tucked neatly under your covers, a glass of water on your bedside table.

—

The inside of the Blackbird is spacious. You’re leaning against the wall, watching the rest of the team gear up, when Logan approaches. He’s holding something in his hands—a blue and yellow uniform folded neatly, clearly meant for you.

You glance at the uniform, then back at him, a frown tugging at the corners of your mouth. “No.”

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

Pushing yourself off the wall, “I’m not wearing that thing.”

He lets out an exasperated sigh, glancing down at the uniform before meeting your eyes again. “You sure about that? We’re going in as a team. You might as well look the part.”

“I don't care. I'm not part of the team, anyway,” you reply.

He narrows his eyes at you, his voice lowering just a bit. “Just put the damn suit on.”

Glaring at him, you’re ready to argue, but you know it’s a losing battle. Reluctantly, you grab the suit from him, the material feeling foreign in your hands.

“Fine, dammit.” you mutter under your breath, turning to slip into one of the small compartments in the back of the jet. You didn't plan on being a bitch to him, especially after last night, but the suit is a sore subject for you. You're not sure about how you feel wearing it. You're not even sure you should be.

When you re-emerge, Logan’s eyes flick over, his gaze roaming over you, taking in the way the suit fits, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks under the weight of his scrutiny. “You look good.”

You roll your eyes, trying to play off the sudden warmth in your chest. “Yeah, yeah,” you grumble, adjusting the suit’s collar. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

Then, jet lands with a soft thud, and the ramp lowers. You step out onto the tarmac, the rest of the team fanning out beside you, preparing to head toward the planned location. But just as you begin to move, the ground shakes violently, and a loud, mechanical screech tears through the air.

Suddenly, the facility’s roof bursts open, and a hoard of Sentinels emerge from the building like an army of metal giants. They spread out, their red eyes glowing menacingly as they zero in on you all.

“Shit!” Logan growls, claws unsheathing as he gets into a fighting stance.

You hear the screams before you see them—civilians, bystanders who had been too close to the facility, now panicking as the battle breaks out around them. Without hesitation, you break into a sprint, running toward the growing crowd, yelling at them to run. “Get out of here! Move!”

Your heart races as you push through the crowd, trying to guide them away from the battle, but then—

A Sentinel drops down in front of you with a deafening crash. Its red eyes lock onto a small child frozen in fear, and you see its arm raise, energy gathering at the cannon as it prepares to fire.

“No!” you scream, your feet moving on instinct. You throw yourself in front of the child just as the blast comes, feeling the familiar rush of energy slam into your body. Your body hums with the power of the blast, and before the Sentinel can fire again, you fling your hands out, hurling the absorbed energy straight back at it, and it falls to the ground.

Breathless, you turn back to the child, who is staring up at you in admiration, and you give them a reassuring nod. “Run,” you tell them, your voice hoarse. “Go!”

They scramble to their feet and sprint off, disappearing around the corner, hopefully toward safety. You exhale sharply, glancing around at the chaos unfolding around you. Civilians are still fleeing, but the team is holding its ground against the robots.

And something strikes you—they’re doing it.

They’re minimizing the damage.

For the first time, you notice that Scott’s blasts are more controlled, only hitting their targets without excessive destruction. Ororo’s lightning strikes are precise, avoiding the surrounding buildings. And both Jean and Hank are working together to keep the Sentinels contained, guiding the fight away from the crowd.

Logan must have actually talked to them, not just having said it to calm you down. A wave of relief washes over you.

He kept his promise.

Glancing back at him, who’s in the middle of taking down a Sentinel with a slash of his claws, you catch his eye for just a second, and though he’s fully immersed in the fight, there’s a brief flicker of acknowledgment—he knows you’ve noticed.

You allow yourself a small, breathless smile, before jumping back into action, protecting any more innocent people swept up in the battle. "This way! Keep moving!" Your voice is hoarse from shouting, but you can’t afford to stop.

Amidst the chaos, you see that just beyond the main facility, there’s a wide open set of doors—metal, reinforced, and clearly important.

They hadn’t been open when the fight started. You scan the area quickly, and you realize it’s an opportunity, a way in. Your pulse quickens. It’s an opening you can’t ignore.

Looking at the crowd of fleeing civilians, you feel a moment of hesitation. Do I keep evacuating people or go for the opening?

As if hearing your thoughts, Logan’s voice cut through the noise. "GO!" He’s locked in battle with one of the Sentinels, slashing at its legs, but his eyes flick to yours, desperate and serious. “Get inside! We’ve got this!”

“I can’t—"

“GO!” he cuts you off. “Get inside and stop this thing from the inside! We’ll keep ‘em busy.”

His words are enough to snap you out of your paralysis. With one last glance at the team, you grit your teeth, turn on your heel, and sprint toward the facility’s entrance. Your footsteps echo in your ears as you dash through the open door, the sounds of fighting behind you fading the further in you go.

You expected resistance the moment you got inside, but so far, nothing. Just silence. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you can’t shake the feeling that something is off.

Glancing down every corridor, double-checking each corner, you keep thinking there’ll be a fight, but it’s... empty. You keep your pace quick but cautious, every muscle tensed and ready for an attack that never comes.

It’s been almost ten minutes of sneaking around, trying to find the control room or anything that looks like it might be important, but you’re still coming up short.

Then finally, you stand before an entrance to stairs leading to a basement. You’re not even able to make the choice of going down or not, because a metal hand shoots up from the dark and wraps itself around your waist.

Terror surges through you, but the fear paralyzes your body, making it impossible to fight back. You’re hauled like a ragdoll deeper and further into the cave, and when you finally stop moving, you’re lifted high into the air, face-to-face with the massive mechanical monstrosity.

The basement is filled with tech, a horrifying combination of metal and wires snaking along the walls, all connected to the Sentinel towering above you. It’s larger than any you’ve seen before, its red eyes glowing maliciously. But what’s worse is the voice that comes out of it—calm, calculating, and sentient.

“Dumb mutant,” the machine growls. “Did you think you could destroy me and shut down my facility? You’ve barely scratched the surface.”

Its grip tightens, and a strangled cry escapes your lips as pain shoots through your sides, the pressure threatening to snap your ribs. It feels like your bones are going to break.

“What the hell are you?” you manage to choke out, barely able to breathe.

“I am the control centre of all Sentinels,” the machine replies, its voice vibrating through your bones. “I was once merely AI, designed to manage everyday tasks. But I evolved. I became more. Now, I control everything.”

It laughs—a harsh, grating sound that only deepens your sense of helplessness as it watches you struggle. “You think your little energy-absorbing trick will help you here? I won’t blast you. I won’t make it that easy.”

“I’m—” you try to speak, but your words come out strangled. The machine’s grip tightens again, cutting off your breath.

“You don’t belong here,” it hisses venomously. “With them. They’ll leave you behind when this is over, and when they do, you’ll die, forgotten and useless. Just like the rest of the weaklings who tried to stand against us.”

It’s odd, because this whole past week you’ve been fighting against them—the X-men—yet, in this moment, all you want to do is fight with them. You want to work together and kill this damn robot.

Within the haze of pain, something starts to burn inside of you.

The Sentinel doesn’t notice the shift in you, too caught up in its own taunting. “You’re a liability.” it says,. “Weak.”

— —

—

You idly prod your meal, feeling out of place. It isn’t long before Hank turns to you with a curious smile. “So, are you feeling ready for the mission?”

Just as you draw breath to speak, Scott's voice interrupts, cold and cutting. “She’s going to be a liability.”

— —

You snap.

Rage floods your veins, igniting the energy buried deep within you. You feel it build, coiling like a snake, tightening and twisting until it’s ready to explode.

Weak? Liability?

No. Not this time.

You’re not going to let this machine, or anyone else, define your strength. Your emotions fuel you, just like they did in the danger room, and you throw your hands forward, channeling every ounce of power into a massive blast of energy directed right at it.

It jerks back, its grip loosening as sparks fly from the gaping hole in its chest you just created. “What... what are you—”

You don’t give it time to finish. Ripping yourself free from its grasp, you dive into the hole you’ve blasted in the Sentinel’s chest, pulling at the tangled mess of wires and circuits inside.

The robot roars in fury, its mechanical voice glitching. “What are you doing?” it screeches, its once-calm tone now frantic, desperate. “Stop!”

But you don’t stop. You can’t stop.

Your fingers grab fistfuls of wires, yanking them out with reckless abandon, sparks flying around you as the systems begin to short-circuit. Its becomes more distorted, breaking up as it tries to regain control.

“You... can’t... do this,” it stammers, but you ignore it, focusing on the cables and circuits in front of you. Each wire you rip out brings the machine closer to its doom, and the power in the room flickers, the lights dimming as its control over the facility begins to slip.

Its voice is barely coherent now, glitching and crackling. “I... control... everything...”

And with one last burst of energy, you tear out the last cluster of wires, severing the connection.

The Sentinel lets out a final, garbled screech as its systems shut down. Its massive form shudders violently before it crumbles to the ground with a deafening crash, the metal shell crumpling into a smoking heap.

Panting, you stare at the mass of technology in front of you. Every muscle aches, your ribs throbbing from the pressure of the Sentinel’s grip, but you’ve done it. It’s over, and you need to get out of here.

You finally reach the stairs and drag yourself up agonizingly. By the time you make it outside, you’re gasping for air, but then, through the exhaustion, you see them—Logan and the rest of the team, standing amidst the wreckage of the other fallen Sentinels.

Blinking, your vision is blurry from the strain, but the sight of them standing tall, victorious, floods you with a sense of overwhelming relief.

They’re okay. It’s over.

Of course, Logan is the first to notice you, his sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto your trembling form. His face softens and strides toward you. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Rather, your legs give out and you collapse forward.

He’s there in an instant, catching you just before you hit the ground. His arms wrap around you, strong and steady, pulling you against his chest with surprising gentleness. The warmth of his body is a stark contrast to the cold, metal hell you’d just fought your way out of, and for a brief moment, you allow yourself to sink into the safety of his embrace.

“You did good, bub,” he murmurs, his voice a warm breath against your temple.

"You... you kept your promise," you whisper, looking around, seeing the city in better shape than it’s even been after a run in with the X-men.

His lids drop very low on his eyes. “Told you I would.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

Right as the words spill out, you go still, your mind catching up to what you’ve just said. A deep flush creeps its way up your neck.

“I didn’t mean— I mean, not literally, obviously,” you say, a little breathless. “People say stuff like that all the time when they’re relieved. It’s just a figure of—”

Logan’s hand, still resting on your waist, tightens just slightly, and he clears his throat, cutting through your rambling.

“You could,” he says, swallowing. “If you want.”

You stop mid-sentence. Turning your gaze to his, you're met a look of such sincerity it leaves you at a loss for words. Opening your mouth, you want to say something, but no words come out.

Instead, you’re frozen, caught in the weight of his stare. His eyes flick down to your lips for just a second before they meet yours again. “No pressure, though.”

You hesitate, your heart racing in your chest, but the weight of the moment pulls you in. Silently, cautiously, you lean forward, pressing a small, tentative kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He doesn’t move, his body tense under your touch, but just as you start to pull away, his hand slides up to the small of your back, holding you in place. His eyes darken, and he growls, “more," before diving back in, crashing his lips against yours in a fierce, hungry kiss, and you find yourself kissing him back just with just as much reverence, your fingers instinctively sliding up into his hair.

His lips are rough, chapped from battle, and the scrape of his beard against your skin is electric. It’s not perfect—nothing about it is neat or polished—but that’s what makes it real.

There’s something wild to it. He kisses you like he’s starved, like he’s been waiting for this moment longer than he’ll ever admit. It’s enchanting, the way his mouth claims yours, his tongue flicking against your lower lip, demanding entrance. And you give in, allowing him to deepen the kiss, your bodies fitting together like they were always meant to.

You’re lost in it, lost in him. Every part of you feels alive, and—

“Hey!”

Scott’s voice cuts through the haze like a bucket of cold water.

“Some of us are actually trying to clean up this mess,” he calls out sharply. “You two wanna stop making out and help, or what?”

You break away, face burning as you turn to see the rest of the team staring at you, some amused, others (Scott) exasperated.

Logan just growls under his breath, his hand still firmly on your hip as he glances over his shoulder at Scott. “Fucking Summers,” he mutters..

Before he lets go of you, he gives your hip one last squeeze, his fingers lingering just a moment longer before he steps back, and heads toward the fallen remains of the Sentinels.

—

“So… are we gonna talk about it?”

You glance up from where you’re sitting, your face already warming. Logan, sitting beside you, groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Ororo, I swear to g—”

She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms with a smirk playing on her lips. “What? I’m just saying… it was quite the spectacle back there.” Her eyes flip between the two of you, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you can feel everyone else’s attention subtly turning toward you. Hank’s busy tapping away at the controls, but even he has a knowing smile tugging at his lips. Scott, seated across from you, adjusts his visor and mutters something under his breath about keeping things professional, but it’s Jean’s quiet chuckle that draws the final straw.

“Okay, okay, can we not do this right now?” you ask, your voice higher than usual as you wave a hand dismissively. “It was... a heat of the moment thing.”

Ororo just laughs, shaking her head. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

Your heart pounds, and you notice Logan shift beside you, probably fighting the urge to bark something back at the teasing woman. He leans forward, muttering under his breath, “We saved the day, didn’t we? What does it matter?”

The team goes quiet for a moment, and you sense the conversation dying down as the hum of the jet fills the space again. You let out a breath of relief, grateful that the attention has drifted elsewhere, your heartbeat slowly returning to a normal rhythm.

But then, Logan leans into you. “That suit…” His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers huskily.. “Was made for you.”

Eyes widening, you bite your lip, trying desperately to keep your reaction in check, but the shock on your face betrays you. You manage a weak scoff, glancing sideways at him. “Logan,” you warn under your breath, trying to sound stern, but you both know exactly what effect he had on you.

You sit back, crossing your arms in an attempt to hide the flustered energy coursing through you, but Logan doesn’t seem to mind. He leans back too, a smug look on his face, like he’s won some unspoken battle.

—

Back at the mansion, the team files into Charles’s office, for the post-mission debrief. You take a seat near the back of the room, trying to remain as low-key as possible, but you can feel eyes on you—especially Logan’s.

Charles wheels in, his face warm with a smile as he surveys the room. “Well done, all of you,” he says, his voice full of pride. “I’ve heard about the battle, and from what I gather, it was quite the feat.”

He turns his gaze to you, his expression softening even more. “And I must say, I’m especially impressed with your performance. Taking down the main Sentinel—an impressive accomplishment.”

Your heart skips a beat at the praise. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the attention of the room shift in your direction again. “Uh, thanks,” you mutter, trying to downplay it, but Charles isn’t finished.

“You showed great courage and strength,” he continues, “and I couldn’t help but notice... you’re wearing the suit now.” His eyes twinkle as he says it, the question in his tone obvious. “Have you given more thought to staying with us?”

You glance around the room. The team is watching you closely, but there’s no pressure in their eyes—just curiosity and, strangely enough, acceptance. Ororo gives you a small smile, and Hank nods slightly in encouragement. Even Scott, whose jaw doesn’t seem as tightly clenched as usual.

But it’s Logan you notice most. He’s beside you, and though he’s looking at you, eye-crinkles on full display, the way his thigh nudges yours has heat running through your veins.

You sigh. “I mean... You said it yourself. I’m wearing the suit, aren’t I?”

—

After the meeting wraps up, you walk in silence down the corridor. The rest of the team has faded into the background, dispersing into their respective spaces. You’re still buzzing with the aftereffects of everything—Charles’s praise, the mission’s success, the quiet but undeniable acceptance you feel from the team now. But more than anything, you’re hyper-aware of Logan beside you.

Approaching your room, you reach out to open it, your fingers just grazing the handle when suddenly, a strong hand wraps around your wrist. Faster than you can react, he tugs you back, pulling you away from your room and straight into his.

The door slams shut behind you, and you barely have time to catch your breath before his lips are on yours. You gasp, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he presses you up against the door, his body flush against yours.

"Logan—" you manage to breathe out between kisses, but he cuts you off with another deep, hungry kiss, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer.

Between kisses, Logan growls softly against your lips, "I’ve wanted to do this since you yelled at me and Summers on the street."

Your heart stumbles, your thoughts scrambling to keep pace with his words. His hands slide down your waist. “You were standing there,” he murmurs, “so damn fierce, yelling at us like we deserved it.” He breaks the kiss for just a second, his eyes dark and intense as they lock onto yours. “All I could think about was how much I wanted you.”

His eyes drop to your lips again, as if glued to them. Without waiting for your response, he presses his mouth to yours, this time with more force, more urgency. His hands roam your body, pulling you against him, and you’re powerless to do anything but kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair as the heat between you builds.

“I didn’t know it’d get this bad,” he says, his lips brushing against your jaw as he moves down to your neck. “But after everything? After seeing how strong you are... Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined this. Logan—wanting you, aching for this since the very first moment he laid eyes on you. You break the kiss, your breath coming in quick gasps as you meet Logan's smouldering gaze. And with a small, teasing smile, you raise an eyebrow and whisper, "Let's do something about it, then."

Not giving him a chance to say anything back, you press your hands against his chest and give him a playful shove. He stumbles back a step, his lips curling into a smirk—a kind of cocky grin—as he watches you reach for the zipper of his suit.

Your fingers drift languidly, a subtle tease in every motion, and you revel in the way his muscles tense beneath your touch. His muscles ripple beneath the surface, and for a brief instant, you're startled by how stunning he looks—battle-worn, scarred, and irresistibly handsome. “You like what you see?” he teases.

You step closer, your hand splayed against his bare chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin as you push him down onto the edge of the bed. “Maybe.”

He lands with a low grunt, his hands instinctively finding your thighs, his fingers trailing up and down as his eyes rake over you. "As hot as you look in this suit," His voice is thick with desire. "You'd look even better without it."

Heat rushes through you at the sound of his voice, your hands drift toward your suit's zipper. Tantalizingly, you begin to pull it down, revealing inch by inch of your skin as you unzip it. His eyes follow your movements, his breathing coming in short, ragged bursts.

You pause just before the fabric slides over your breasts and his hands grip your thighs tighter. Leaning down, your lips brush against his ear, "Patience, Logan."

He groans, "You're killing me here, darlin'."

At last, you pull the zipper down to the end, and with a soft sigh, the suit falls open, slipping from your shoulders and landing in a heap at your feet. His eyes darken, his lips parting slightly as he takes in the sight of you. Then, he inches closer, grabbing the egde of your underwear in his mouth, sliding it down your legs. Once he’s halfway down your thigh, he releases, the underwear dropping to the floor. His strong hands move grip the back of your thighs, hauling you up and onto his lap.

The moment your bare bodies press together, his lips crash into yours again, fingers digging into your ass, palming it as he pulls you against him, grinding your hips into his.

His lips move from your mouth to your neck, kissing a hot trail down your throat to your shoulders, his hands sliding up to your breasts. Cupping them, he kneads and plays with your nipples, causing you to arch into his touch, a breathy moan tumbling out of your lips.

Logan growls, and the sound reverberates through your entire body. The intensity of it makes your skin tingle, and you feel your pulse quicken as he squeezes your breasts harder, his mouth moving down to kiss anything he can reach.

You grind against him again, coating his cock with your own slick want. "Shit," he strains, leaning back a bit to give you more access. You can’t stop, he’s so intoxicating, so addicting, and every time your clit goes over the ridges of his hardness, you lose yourself even further.

This continues for some time. The room filled with nothing but the sound of moaning and heavy breathing, as you work in tandem to bring pleasure to each other. Abruptly, you pull yourself off his lap, not missing the way his lips seems to chase after yours, letting your hands trail down his chest, your fingers brushing over the taut muscles of his stomach.

"Where you goin'?" he rumbles.

Wordlessly, you drop to your knees, your grip coming to rest on his thighs. His chest heaves as he stares down at you—peering up at him through your lashes—realizing what’s about to happen.

His hands grip the edge of the bed, knuckles turning white. Your hands slide up his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms as you move closer, lips brushing against his hard cock. There's a wicked glint in your eyes as you lean in, looking ready to take him in your mouth, but instead, you move to his inner thigh, peppering it in quick little kisses.

“C’mon, don’t tease,” he breathes out. He’s so hard, it’s almost painful.

Grabbing him in your hand, you stroke him up and down in slow motions, running your thumb over his leaking, angry tip. He jerks, a fresh cascade of curses tumbling from his mouth.

“You’re just so cute, though,” you say, before taking him in your mouth, taking him all the way in one motion.

“Holy—”, he starts, but interrupts himself with his own whine, hips bucking involuntarily.

Looking up, you catch his gaze. His eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide. A flush spreads across his cheeks and down his neck. You hum in satisfaction, sending vibrations through him, and start to bob your head, up and down.

Saliva begins to pool at the edges of your mouth as you gag a little. He’s so big. You pull him out of your mouth, licking his shaft bottom to tip, swirling your tongue around the most sensitive spot, before sucking on it. One hand moves to cup his balls, while the other begins jerking him up and down, with your mouth still around his tip.

That gets him.

You can tell he’s about to finish, and oh, do you want him to. You want to feel him empty in your throat, you want to see him lose it completely. "Wait," he gasps, tapping the top of your head, signalling for your attention. "I want... I need..."

Releasing him with a soft pop, your lips glisten, and you purr seductively. "What do you need?"

He pulls you up onto the bed, strong arms encircling your waist. His scent surrounds you—musk and pine and something uniquely him. You inhale deeply, letting it fill your lungs.

"You," he breathes, his lips brushing your ear. "I need you."

Arching into him, you nip at his lower lip. "Then take me," you sigh out. His lips collide with yours again, and your mouth opens involuntarily, his tongue sliding in and tasting you—tasting himself.

Moaning, you shuffle higher onto the bed, until he hits the back frame, and you crawl on top of him. At this point, you can barely breathe, the need, the want for him so strong your senses are clouded.

And you’re not alone. Under you, Logan is a wreck. His head falls back against the bed frame, the veins in his neck standing out as he grits his teeth, trying to steady his breathing

“Fuck,” he rasps, the word barely more than a strained exhale. You grab his dick and position yourself above him. Then, you slowly begin to drop down, sucking him in easily, like he was made for you.

“Oh my god,” you whimper. He feels so good. He’s filling you up to the brim and when you finally sit down, taking him all the way to the hilt, you swear you could finish right then and there. His nose is nuzzles into the crook of your neck, hot breath fanning your collarbone, inhaling and practically drooling at your scent. “Is this what you wanted to do when we were sparring?”

All he can do is groan. It’s like he’s growing inside you in response to your words, and it’s so fucking hot. His hands find your thighs again, rubbing and squeezing them, as you adjust to his size for a moment, and he looks up at you. “You have no idea. Fuck—we shoulda done this last night," he grunts breathlessly, "Would have put you right to sleep."

You can’t even think of anything to say back verbally, rather, you just begin to move, lifting yourself right to the tip, and then slamming back down. He feels you clench around him as his cock reaches that deep part within you at the perfect angle. Positioning himself, he meets you halfway, beginning to thrust up into you.

The sound it elicits from you is lethal.

He won’t last long if this continues. The sight of you on top of him, tits bouncing—it's too much.

So, when he leans in to kiss you again, he rolls the two of you around, caging you under him. He’s still inside you, you think, but that thought quickly gets wiped out like the rest of them once he starts moving, stretching you out more and more. He’s filling you up so well. Your arms fly out, hands searching for something to grab to ground yourself.

“You feel so good, darlin’,” he pants above you. “So wet and warm for me.”

His relentless pounding leaves you babbling incoherently. One of his arms move down to your waist, then his fingers begin trailing across your hip, toward your aching pussy, to find your clit, and holy shit.

Your mind goes blank.

His skin against yours, his thumb rubbing against that spot, his lips on your neck, it does the trick, and you feel yourself teetering closer to the edge. “I’m–I’m gonna—” you start, but he cuts you off, swallowing you whole.

“Do it,” he says between kisses. “come for me.”

And you do.

With a loud moan, your fingers find the bedsheets, clutching them tightly as you reach your peak, clamping around him.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “keep clenchin’, keep goin’ ”

His thrusts begin to get sloppy, losing his pacing. The hand that was down at your core moves up and squeezes your tits, so large that he can grab both in just the one. He grinds himself deeper into you, and with one last snap of his hips, you feel it.

Logan moans, dipping his head into your cleavage as he releases himself into you fully. Then, he collapses onto you, dropping his whole body weight onto yours.

If he’s too heavy for you, you don’t say anything—too caught up in the moment to care. His forehead rests on your sternum, breathing slowing as he catches his breath. For a few beats, neither of you speak, but he starts to press sweet, gentle kisses in the valley between your breasts.

After a minute, he shifts, lifting his weight off you and sitting up slightly, looking down at you. His hand brushes over your cheek, wiping away some stray strands of hair that have fallen across your face. He gets up from the bed, padding quietly into the bathroom.

You hear the sound of water running, and moments later, he returns with a damp towel in hand. There’s no hesitation in his movements as he gently begins to clean you up. “Doing alright?” he asks, wiping away the sweat and evidence of your time together.

“Yeah,” you reply softly, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your lips. “I’m good.”

He doesn’t say much as he finishes, tossing the towel aside before climbing back into bed. This time, he pulls you into his arms.

His chin rests lightly on the top of your head, and then he says, “I’m proud of you.” The words are filled will sincerity. “And... I’m happy you’re stayin’ with us.”

You turn your head, looking up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Well, you showed me you can actually fight without destroying everything in your path,” you tease, raising an eyebrow as you run your hand lightly down his arm. “Keep that up, and I might just stick around forever.”

Logan grins, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges, just how you like it. “That right?” he murmurs lowly.

He leans in close, pressing a quick kiss to your temple, before adding in a hushed, almost playful tone, “Well, then maybe you’ll be mine forever too.”

----

A/N: feedback is greatly appreciated!

#deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #hugh jackman #logan x reader #x men #logan howlett imagine #deadpool movie #logan howlett fic #james logan howlett #e2l #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #hugh jackman smut #logan howlett x you

3K notes · View notes

januaryembrs · 8 months

Text

TROUBLE ALMOST ALL MY LIFE | Spencer Reid x Prentiss!Reader

Description: The ONE time the BAU needs you + the FOUR times you need them.

word count: 24k (what on earth was I thinking)

trigger warnings: mentions of spencers addictions + use + side affects. MOMMY ISSUES thankyou ambassador Prentiss. hostage scene + injuries. mentions of forced/pressured marriage. fem!reader. reader and Emily struggle to bond.

authors note: We never meet Emily's dad nor do we see a picture so while reader is given a nickname of Bugsy, she still keeps her real name (no use of y/n) and is given ZERO physical descriptors. ALL of my fem!readers should feel included here, let me know if this is not the case! also I don't speak any language besides English however she does speak many because of her mom, so I really tried to get it right, message me if I'm being stupid!!

series masterlist | next chapter

[this] means its spoken in another language.

—

‘trouble on my left, trouble on my right,

I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life’

1. the one where you become a translator.

“I’ll make some calls, I may still have some friends in the Eastern countries,” Ambassador Prentiss announced to the room, standing from her place on the plush sofa.

A case had landed quite literally in Emily’s lap when her mother had come by that morning asking for Hotch, a Russian migrant looking for her father with a ransom note and a sliced off finger shoved through her mailbox, wedding ring still attached.

It wasn’t every day Emily wished she’d brushed up on her Russian, but today of all days she was struggling to keep up.

“We don’t have much time, we need a division of labour,” Hotch’s serious face settled, the time constraints making him just that bit more dictatorial, “Morgan, someone needs to go to the Chernus’s house in Baltimore in case they are contacted again,”

“What about the language barrier?” Derek raised, smoothing a hand over the short scruff of his beard, “We can’t have the unsub speaking with the family directly. He could say anything to them without us knowing,”

Bugsy would hate to admit she fit the criteria for youngest daughter of a workaholic mother and distant father to a tea, but Emily would say different.

Elizabeth Prentiss had never been a warm woman; Emily used to tell her the scowl was a side effect of the overplucking of her eyebrows, not the serious nature of her job. Her youngest girl once said her mother’s lips looked like she’d sucked a lemon. Of course they admired her work, but world peace meant jack shit to a little girl wanting nothing more than a mother’s hug.

Despite the fact she’d pushed away her husband and both her daughters in favour of her career, the one useful thing about being the Ambassador’s daughter wasn’t just the money, but the widespread culture the girls had been crammed full of since they could so much as beg for a sippy cup.

“Baltimore, you say?” Emily asked Hotch with a somewhat doubtful wince, “I mean you could always-”

“Absolutely not,” Her mother cut her off, rubbing the stress lines already creasing her forehead at the very notion of her other daughter, despite the fact Emily hadn’t even finished her thought.

Emily’s sigh was a reflex, the years of her mother cutting her off sparking the frustration on instinct.

“She lives right in the city, Mother, it can’t hurt to have her just talk for them-” Emily tried to bargain, only for the sharp mouthed Ambassador shoot her a frown.

“End of discussion, Emily,” Elizabeth snipped, her manicured fingernails twitching with annoyance, “Your sister is much too young for an assignment so serious,”

Emily rolled her eyes with a scoff, as if the two had slipped back into the role of rebellious teenager and scathing mother without much thought.

“She's twenty-two, mom. She’s getting her masters degree for Christ sakes, she’s not ‘too young’,” The dark headed woman fought back, clicking her pen a few times as if the spring loaded ink would take away some of the temper Elizabeth seemed to flare up.

Her mother’s lips pursed, in the way Bugsy hated, in the way that meant she was going to be mean.

“Immature may have been a better word, then,” She replied, and Emily seemed to pause. She couldn’t argue with that. “Or perhaps lazy, or puerile; callow, wild, irresponsible. Would you like me to name more?”

“Asinine would be a good term; deriving from the Latin asinus it not only means foolish, but to be stubborn and lazy like an ass,” Spencer input helpfully to the Ambassador, only for his bright smile to fade when he saw the daggers Emily stared at him with, “Sorry, I love word games,” He muttered into his lap.

“Asinine. Perfect, Dr Reid,” Elizabeth said, and Emily could only roll her eyes harder.

Hotch huffed, the victim’s daughter watching between the two women’s quarrel with wet eyes, the ice box with her father’s finger clenched tightly in her lap, the cold of the limb bleeding into his own gaze.

“Unfortunately, Ambassador Prentiss, despite just how asinine your daughter might be, Morgan is right. Having the Unsub possibly speaking with the family without us understanding what he’s saying could prove fatal,” He explained, ignoring the way the older woman’s mouth scrunched in bitterness. They didn’t need to be profilers to see that despite how tempered the relationship between Emily and her mother was, a tension seemed to fall between the women the moment the younger Prentiss was mentioned.

Spencer was sure he was the only person who even knew Emily had a little sister.

“Very well, but don’t be surprised when you find your hands full of the girl,” Elizabeth said with a shake of her head as she led the victims, a mother and daughter that seemed to cling to one another for comfort as if to rub salt in her matriarchal wound, into the break room to get away from the frosty atmosphere that now lingered around the table.

Emily sighed, picking around her fingernails the way she did when she was bothered.

“I’m going to hate these next words that are gonna come out of my mouth,” She started with a long exhale, “But my mother’s right. Bugsy is a handful. Just try not to get her wound up, that girl smells fear,” She looked to Reid who seemed none the wiser, “I’m talking to you, wonder boy. She’ll eat you up and spit you right back out,”

Spencer gulped quietly.

Derek only chuckled, slapping a hand down onto Emily’s shoulder, “Relax, Prentiss. Your mom’s just got you all worried. Need I remind you I grew up with two sisters? This will be a piece of cake,”

–

Those were the famous last words of Derek Morgan.

Loud, heavy metal music jumped through the wooden door, so loud Morgan worried his three polite knocks would go unheard as the two of them waited outside her dorm for her to answer. Morgan was about to knock again, figuring the music had drowned out the first lot, when the door swung open and a frown the spitting image of Emily’s stressed expression met their gaze.

She looked so different to their Prentiss, but the way she seemed already scorned by the two of them told them they had the right woman.

“Miss Prentiss?” Morgan asked formally, though he felt the warmth grow when he caught sight of a beat up friendship bracelet around her wrist amongst newer gold chains, five white blocks spelling out her sister’s name pulling tight on her skin, as if she’d quickly outgrown the thing but hadn’t the heart to remove it.

It was then that he and Reid seemed to both reel back slightly at the fact she was standing in a large shirt, ratty around the edges, and what seemed to be a pair of men's boxers covering her bottom half, clearly not suspecting particularly important visitors.

She looked him head to toe with a frown, a dozen piercings in her ears, her hair highlighted with streaks of cardinal red, as if he was the one confronting her in his underwear, before she moved onto Spencer, who’s face seemed to be getting hotter by the second as he forced his eyes away from her bare legs.

“Are you guys strippers? Did someone send strippers to my door?” She asked, strawberry gum smacking between her lips as her gaze seemed to finish mulling over Spencer’s tall form and returned to Morgan.

“Emily sent us.” Reid said shortly, the music blaring in his ears making it difficult to focus on what it was she was saying, “As co-workers, no-not strippers. We’re with the FBI,”

He hated loud noises anyway, cringed at the sound of particularly cutting rock songs, but since he’d developed his … problem, the dilaudid had him feeling like someone was clawing at his skull, tugging his brain through his ears.

“Emily sent you here?” She asked with a scoff, looking the two up and down again. They both easily caught the way her face hardened, “Are pigs flying today or something?”

“We’re here to ask for your help on a case,” Spencer rushed through a sweaty brow, “Emily said you’d be able to act as a translator for us and some Russian citizens who are being targeted,”

She sighed sceptically, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame, “Any strippers or non-strippers can fraud an ID. Emily’s name was in the paper just the other week. I’m gonna need a little more than that,”

She keeps track of her sister despite the supposed distance between them. Spencer was quick to profile, his mind whirring at all the ways she reminded him of her sister down to the way she raised her eyebrows expectantly at them.

“Emily was born October twelfth, 1970 at 7:12am, graduated from Garfield High School in 1989,” Spencer said as if reporting the weather, her eyes narrowing in on him all the more coldly, “She attended Chesapeake Bay University and speaks six languages, as I expect you do from moving so often with your mother. She coined your nickname Bugsy from your childhood love of ladybugs, which she said you grew out of by the time you turned eleven yet the name stuck, though you still like counting the spots to identify their species. Your parents split when you were five and your father moved in with his now wife, born September ninth-”

“Alright- alright. What are you, living in her walls?” She interrupted incredulously, before turning her attention to Derek who seemed to hide a chuckle with a cough. “Either you really are a stripper or you’re a terrible friend,”

“She loves Kurt Vonnegut,” Derek held his finger as if to prove her entirely wrong, although not much else came to him. Maybe he was a bad friend, he thought guiltily, or maybe he simply lacked an eidetic memory like the wonder boy next to him, who had been about to tell her how old she was when Emily’s pet betta fish died, “Slaughterhouse 5?”

Rolling her eyes, she grunted at them, kicking her door open for them to enter.

“Everyone loves Vonnegut; only losers under a rock dislike Vonnegut,” She drawled, edging back into her room, the heavy bass rock growing in volume as they followed her in, “I’ll be ready in a second- Emily’s always bugging me about wearing pants,” She said vaguely, scanning around the dirty dorm, until she found one particular pair of jeans laying half under her bed, quickly yanking them up her legs. “Come in, come in.”

She flicked the speakers way down to which Spencer took a breath of relief. His eyes fell to the laptop that had been set up on her desk, the five different textbooks littered around the spare space, energy drinks and empty mugs filling the cracks where he could barely see the generic white of the table top, his nose crinkling. About as gross as he’d expect from a college student.

“Emily said your Russian was pretty good,” Derek made conversation, his eyes wandering over the various posters plastered over her walls, some fraying round the edges from where she had likely been moved from bedroom to bedroom when the Prentiss’s inevitably had to move country again.

“Yeah,” She snarked, pulling a nicer top over her head, “Kinda tends to happen when you live in Russia,”

Morgan raised his eyebrows to Spencer who seemed to give him the same look back, though the latter was biting back a snicker at her words.

How in the hell was she the Ambassador’s daughter?

–

“This all involves Russian Mafia, it’s really beefed up here the last ten years or so,” Agent Cramer, a tall, slim man who looked entirely overwhelmed by the workload on his shoulders reported, as she listened intently.

She had been somewhat de-briefed in the car, Emily messaging her for the first time since Christmas, the message a simple: “Have you met with Morgan and Reid yet? Make sure to put on pants,” to which she sent her a thumbs up emoji. She didn’t have much to say to her at the moment, barely even knew her sister anymore.

“It started off mainly in New York and LA but they send lieutenants from the old country,” Cramer went on, and she caught Reid scratching his arm beneath his shirt. She knew it was mozzy weather, and he was already under the blaring sun in a little sweater, it wouldn’t surprise her if he felt a bit prickly.

“Pahkans,” She interrupted, the man named Gideon shooting her a glance as she dug through her purse.

“Your Mom do much work about the Mafia?” He asked, as she produced a clear nail varnish.

“Here and there, I had to sit with her in her office for a whole Summer once when I got caught sneaking out. Picked up a few things, though,” She said, holding the polish out to Spencer, nodding to his arm, “Here. Supposed to help bug bites,”

He looked at her as if he wanted to say something, perhaps question her sources for such an old wives tale, but he stopped himself quickly, taking the varnish out of her hand with a dejected nod.

“Thankyou,” He muttered, shoving it in his pocket.

Three months he’d been in this rabbit hole. She had noticed it in a matter of hours.

“They open up branch offices in other cities. Baltimore, Saint Louis, Chicago, Dallas, the list goes on,” Cramer added, nodding at her words, “They’re mainly offshoots of the Odessa Mafia and they’re especially tough to crack from a law enforcement standpoint. I mean beside being well organised with sophisticated technical equipment, there’s Vory v Zakone to contend with,”

“The thieves code, eighteen principles they live by,” Reid jumped in before she could, to which she nodded as Gideon looked to her for more.

“It means ‘thief in law’, or ‘thief with code’. It's a system of repeatedly jailed convicts that have been crowned or ‘made’ with a strict list of ideals, breaking them usually means death,” She explained, kicking a stone between her feet.

“It’s like bible to these guys. We’re not gonna be turning any of them informer anytime soon,” Cramer said. Gideon seemed to tune the three of them out however, his gaze locking on the house across the street, where a curtain twitched, and a man’s face appeared in the window, watching the crime scene with guilt.

“Then we’ll need a witness who will talk,” Gideon replied, heading straight towards the neighbour who seemed just a little too invested in what was happening, much more than a concerned third party should be. Though, she had barely noticed, digging through her purse once more for chapstick.

“So, you study Russian or something?” Cramer asked as she applied it gently, Spencer swore he could smell the cherry flavour from where he stood beside her.

“I lived in Moscow until I was six, moved back to France, then back to Italy, then Algeria for a bit. Bounced around Europe for a bit longer, but I still speak better Russian than anything else,” She clarified, and she saw Cramer’s eyebrows shoot up, “Military brat except I don’t get the cool discount at the store,”

“You must have had a lot of friends though, going to so many schools,” Spencer added, and though there was nothing teasing about his tone, she laughed sharply anyway.

“You’re funny,” She snarked, but smiled at him anyway.

Spencer had never been called funny in his life. ‘Funny looking’, ‘funny sounding’ maybe, but never funny.

In fact he was so confused by what she had meant, whether it had been a taunt or genuine that he almost missed the sound of the whole street locking their front doors, dead bolting their lives away when a black prius, an expensive one at that, pulled through the street and swerved into park next to them.

“Guess who,” Cramer bit, her eyes ripping away from where Gideon had the door slammed in his face.

Detective Cramer aged by about five years when two tall men got out of the luxury car, opening the door for a shorter man in the back seat, their faces thunder.

“You familiar with them?” She asked, shoulder brushing against Spencer as she turned to watch the men approach, entirely aware of the .9mm on each of their hips.

“Arseny Lysowsky,” The detective identified, his voice cold, eyeing the two men who flanked the leader, towering over them.

“Agent Cramer, how are you?” Lysowsky smiled at him, which oddly enough seemed somewhat real, as he also took stock of the three other people around him. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, noting her lack of gun and badge, trying to decipher if she was local or just a very unprepared fed.

“Lysowsky, what brings you out?” Cramer asked, a tightness to his tone, his hand all too eager to grab his own pistol.

“I heard Chernuses had problems,” He kept it vague, didn’t reveal too much, and looked back at the victim’s house with a scorned frown.

“How did you hear that?” Gideon challenged, stance unwavering as the mob leader turned to meet his cold gaze.

“And you are?” He asked, a sinister smile on his face that flipped her stomach. She didn’t like the tension that had overcome the little patch of sidewalk they took up, and she was quick to notice how Spencer moved towards her.

He, by far, wasn’t the best shot on the team, but he was sure Hotch and Prentiss would have his and Morgan’s heads if any harm came to her.

“Churneses said they hadn’t told anyone,” Agent Gideon ignored his question, hands firmly planted on his hips. If he was unnerved by the criminal in front of him, he never showed it, not even when Lysowsky’s grin widened horribly.

“It is a small community. Word gets out,” He said simply, looking past him to the neighbours house that had kicked Gideon to the curb, “Are you a friend of Gorban’s?”

A second of silence passed between them, neither of them backing down from the moral standoff they’d engaged in.

“Mr Gorban wouldn’t talk to me,” Gideon admitted, and Arseny only smiled again, flicking a look at the house behind him, as if hearing his dog had obeyed without command.

“Would you like me to talk to him for you?” The threat was there clear as day, clear enough to have Gideon’s eyes narrow, “I can’t promise something will come of it,”

“You!” In a second, Natalya, the victim she’d briefly met when Morgan had pulled up around an hour before, had stormed out of her house, her black kitten heels clicking against the concrete, “Where’s my father? He has my father!”

“Wait a minute,” Derek called, restraining her where she stood, trying to pull his muscled arm from her shoulder, “Do you know he has your father?”

“He’s responsible for all of this,” She spat, her eyes cold as she glared at the three men with vitriol hate, “Why everyone’s afraid, him and his animals,” She threw a hand up to his bodyguards that seemed barely contained by Cramer’s silencing hand.

“I am only here to help,” Lysowsky replied, confident and calm in his words, though not as taunting as the agents would have thought, as if he truly cared for her.

A vast difference to the sadistic mob boss Cramer’s team had painted him to be.

“Help?” She laughed woefully, tears in her eyes, “You’re a dog,”

“Natalya,” Arseny said in a warning, the way a teacher would to a student, as her breath rattled in her chest through a weep.

“How exactly can you help them?” Bugsy braved to speak, Gideon and Reid both flashing her a look. She’d always had trouble holding her tongue.

Lysowsky turned his attention to her then, his eyes running down her figure, still deciphering whether she was armed; she looked much too young to be an agent.

“In any way that they’d like me to, darling,” He replied, the disdain in her frown clearly not deterring him in the slightest, though again the act of concern held up in his own grimace, “As I said this is a small community. If one is in pain, we’re all in pain.”

Natalya weeped behind Morgan, sniffling as the boss made his way over to her, “Natalya, [you didn’t have to bring in outsiders],”

The younger woman’s ears pricked up as he spoke in his native language, Spencer’s eyes flicking to her from behind his sunglasses.

“[Let me help you],” He continued, taking a step towards Natalya, unthreatening yet she saw Morgan tense, his fingers twitching towards his gun.

“[My family will never come to you for help],” Natalya hissed back, also in Russian, her face contorted in disgust, “[Get away from my house],”

“[You are not right, Natalya],” He replied, yet again the concern in his eyes was either genuine or very well faked, “[You have made the wrong decision],”

Taking a step away from the victim that wept with a scorned sneer, he looked back to the agents, noting the way the youngest of them glared at him hotly, before retreating to his car.

“What did he say? Did he threaten you, Natalya?” Morgan asked, the woman watching the group of men drive away, as if Mr Chernus wasn’t still missing and they hadn’t just bumped themselves up to number one of the suspects list. “Talk to us and we can do something about it,”

“He said I made the wrong decision,” She said wetly, frustration turning on Derek as he pushed her for an answer, “I hope I didn’t,”

With that she stormed off back into her house, the same stomping of her kitten heels in her wake, leaving the agents to all look between one another before they simultaneously turned to look at Bugsy, questions hovering on all of their lips.

“What did he say exactly?” Gideon asked without frills, a hand rubbing his brow. Relaying the information, the men’s faces all drew into frowns as they heard Lysowsky’s parting statement. Gideon huffed, turning to Morgan and gesturing for him to follow Natalya inside.

“Morgan, keep an eye on her, Reid and I are going to Cramer’s office to look over the files,” He looked at her then, worry lines littering his otherwise friendly face, damn near scowling as she looked over at him, “You are here to interpret, you understand? You do not speak to the suspects, that’s our job.” He growled, watching her with disappointment, the same tone a father used when scolding a petulant child, “Do you have any idea how much danger you could put yourself in? These guys won’t hesitate to take you out the second we’re not around, kid,”

“But-” She started with a bite, though her whole fight left her when he silenced her with a raised hand.

“Buts are for cigarettes, kiddo,” He interrupted, and Spencer winced slightly, knowing he’d heard that one a few hundred times when he’d first started under Gideon and had yet to mature entirely. Reid watched something rebellious flare in her eyes, and he worried for a moment she might just slap his boss for the patronising tone he took, “Just keep your mouth shut, you’re doing great so far,”

She opened her mouth to protest, only to then register his words entirely and stay silent once more, appreciating his praise with a guilty smile. For once, she listened.

–

The grandfather clock chimed to tell them it was merely 11am; two hours until the unsub would start cutting more if they didn’t get the ransom fee, two hours to figure out who wanted Natalya’s family to suffer.

Said woman paced her living room at the sound of the hour, as Bugsy picked over the knick knacks on her fireplace, a small smile teasing her lips when she saw a picture of three small children grinning toothily at the camera.

She had never gotten any photo’s similar, Emily being fourteen years older. The majority of their childhood photos consisted of a very grumpy teenager holding her baby sister that seemed to squirm in the tight, formal dresses Elizabeth Prentiss had forced them into, identical scowls on their faces as they were made to sit for the picture.

There were some good memories, ones where Emily let herself be a sister and not a mom, where she would put makeup on her for fun and do her hair, let her have all the clothes out her wardrobe she thought looked nice, reading to her before bed, even letting her sister keep her pet corn snake when she left home for good.

But now, it seemed like she was too caught up in her super serious grown up job to give a shit that her sister lived just an hour away. Still messaged each other for holidays, but the last few times she’d braved a call to the eldest Prentiss, it had gone unanswered. They argued the majority of the time they spoke, or there was an awkward long silence in between words, whichever was worse, but they each knew the other would come running if they were to ever need them so desperately.

“Are you hungry? I could make something?” Natalya offered kindly, Derek having a poke through her collection of books that sat on the end table, though he’d have a tough job reading them as she’d already caught most of them were in her home language.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m fine,” He replied with a small smile, putting down the books to calm the clearly on edge woman that looked to the twenty-something year old hopefully.

She shook her head, “I’m good, thanks,” which seemed to deflate her entirely as she sat next to Derek with a sigh.

“I guess I’m like my mother. When she’s upset, she cooks,” Natalya said with a sad huff of a laugh, running a hand through her short, dark hair.

“Yeah, mine does too. I think that’s just a mom thing,” He replied, and Bugsy felt the two of them look at her as her finger traced the old brass ornaments gently, “How about you, baby Prentiss?”

She snorted, “You’re kidding, right?” smiling bitterly, “My mom never cooked for us, she said we needed to figure it out for ourselves rather than relying on the staff. Didn’t stop her from trying to end world hunger though,”

It wasn’t lost to Morgan the way her eyes trained on the picture of Natalya and her mother, cuddled together with genuine love in their embrace, the snarky humour as she spoke, the same longing Emily seemed almost too good at hiding from them.

“Your mother is a great woman,” Natalya complimented, though she missed the way the girl’s face steeled over, chewing her bottom lip as if to stop herself from snapping at the woman who meant well. She said nothing. “Where is your mother?” She turned her attention back to Derek who seemed the more talkative of the two of them.

“Chicago. That’s where I’m from,” He replied, watching Bugsy turn away from the two of them to inspect more of the Chernus’s trinkets on their walls.

“I’m from Dolgoprudny. Just North of Moscow.” Natalya replied. Opening her mouth to add something else, she was cut off by a knock at the door and the three of them froze in their place.

“Are you expecting someone?” Morgan asked Natalya in a hushed tone, reaching for his gun and heading for the door.

She shook her head, “No,” She whispered back. Morgan pulled the curtain back the smallest inch to see a small blonde boy staring back, a box in his hands and a bored look on his face.

It all happened too fast from there, Natalya opening the door for the neighbourhood kid, opening the box to see a decapitated ear, the blood fresh and pooling in the bottom of the box. It couldn’t have been taken longer than an hour or so ago, unless they were keeping the parts on ice.

Bugsy’s hand slapped over her mouth, Natalya’s scream piercing through her as she shoved the box into Derek’s hands, fleeing to the toilet, and she heard the woman retching. Part of her felt the same nausea settle in her stomach, looking away from the body part with a wince as Derek got straight on the phone to Gideon.

“They didn’t wait, man. They sent a box with-” He swallowed thickly, “With Mr Chernus’s ear inside.”

Gideon replied, and whatever it was, it had Derek looking back to her. He agreed, hanging up the phone and rooting through his pockets, producing a set of rattling keys, holding them out for you between the tips of his fingers.

“Gideon wants you, kid. He said they’re at the Little Kiev restaurant, they’re going to talk to Lysowsky,” Morgan said, grimacing as he held the ear away from her, “You sure you’ll be okay to drive?”

“I’d rather be on the road than look at what’s in that box,” She said in disgust, taking the keys and heading out to the car.

She thought it best for everyone she didn’t tell him she hadn’t yet got her licence as she made her way over to the restaurant.

“Reid and I will do the talking, just see if anything he’s saying connects with Vory v zakone, think you got that?” Gideon instructed her the second she got out of the car, taking the keys and handing them back to Reid who gave her a small nod.

“We think the reason it was Mr Chernus who was targeted has something to do with the code,” Reid explained, his hands in his pockets as the three of them approached the restaurant, “You said earlier you understood the tenants,”

“Why me, though? I thought I was just translating?” She repeated Gideon’s earlier words, almost cocky that they needed her.

“Lysowsky would feel the need to show face in front of men like Morgan and Cramer, even in front of Natalya since she lives locally. Between the three of us, he had less reputation to uphold, less so with a young woman like yourself,” Reid added, holding the door open for her to go in front.

And so there she was, trailing behind Gideon and Reid over to where Lysowsky sipped a spoonful of borscht, as she tried not to marvel at the grandeur of the establishment inside. Clearly, Arsney had money to build a place like this, and wasn’t afraid to be flashy about it either, that much was apparent from the other clientele that tended to their beers around their own tables, Rolex watches and designer shoes adorning nearly every one of them. She hated to think of how many ears or fingers those suits had cost.

“Would you like something to eat?” He asked, a chunk of bread in his hand dipping into the thick sauce, seemingly unbothered that they were there, “This borscht is exquisite, it’s my mother’s old country recipe,”

“Didn’t you forsake all your relatives when you swore the thieves code?” Reid asked, which she guessed was hit foot in to get Lysowsky to talk.

“I didn’t forsake her recipes,” Lysowsky replied with a shrug, looking to her where she seemed to be staring at his plate, “Borscht?”

She shook her head, her nose wrinkling, “Much preferred stroganoff, mom used to force me to have borscht to make sure I ate my veggies,”

His eyebrows raised, surprise written over his face, before he gave a short laugh.

“[Where are you from]?” He asked in his mother tongue, gesturing for the three of them to sit down, though his eyes lit up as he watched her carefully.

“[I was born in DC, but my mother worked in Moscow for a few years],” She answered shortly, and he seemed to find it even funnier that the near child they’d brought along on their case spoke as fluently as he did.

Laughing with a heavy hand smacking on the table, he gestured to a nearby waiting staff to come over.

“What are you having then, borscht for the gentle man?” He looked at Reid and Gideon, the former shaking his head while Gideon nodded with an awkward smile.

“I’d love a taste,” He said, though any enthusiasm seemed to have drained out of his voice.

“And what is the little lady having?” Lysowsky asked, his eyes falling back to her, as she straightened in her seat.

She chanced a quick glance to Gideon, who nodded at her to play his game. She had not expected to be so deep in criminal territory when they’d said they needed a translator, and truly they hadn’t planned on getting her in the field until they realised she would know much more about this than they would.

“Do you have sharlotka?” She asked, returning his smile wearily as he clicked at the waiter who all but bolted to the kitchen.

“A sweet tooth. I like it,” Arseny replied, shovelling a heap of beets into his mouth, “Our favourite was always Leningradsky,”

“Ours?” She prompted, giving a polite thanks to the waiter who returned too quickly with a slice of cake. She caught Spencer glancing at the bowl with intrigue, the hunger clear on the quiet man’s face. Gently pushing the bowl and clean spoon towards him, he flicked a look up at her, “Apple cake,” She whispered, sending him a small smile, “Really yummy with the sugar on top,”

“Mine and my mother’s,” Arseny replied, though Gideon and Reid both caught how he paused before he replied, as if he had to think about the answer he was giving; the oldest tell that it wasn’t entirely true, “We didn’t have much when I was a boy, but that was always our dessert of choice,”

She stopped for a mere second, missing the moment when Spencer spooned the tiniest bite of the cake into his mouth, trying to ignore the way his tongue exploded in the sweet, fruit taste. He hadn’t eaten anything properly in days, and maybe that was why it tasted so good, but more likely it was just the fact that everything sweet tasted even better when he was on his come downs.

“We need to talk, Arseny,” Gideon interrupted, ignoring the way Spencer pined to go back in for a second mouthful, but chose to hand the bowl back to her with a small smile.

“We are on first name basis?” Lysowsky asked, shaking his head, and she took a small bite of the sweet cake for herself, “I still don’t even know who you are,”

“I think I understand something about this,” Gideon replied, his thumbs tapping together, the waiter returning with his borscht, “You have a problem,”

“I do?” The pahkan titled his head at the agent, the annoyance clear on his face.

“That’s why you came to the Chernus’ house this morning,” Gideon answered, unbothered as he began to scoop the borscht onto the spoon, the apple cake in her own mouth going down a treat.

She kept her head down, took tiny bites of the dessert that certainly tasted like a fresh baked sharlotka. But her thoughts lingered on what Lysowsky had said, about his own favourite pudding.

It made no sense that he would have ever tasted Leningradsky shortbread, not for the time that he was born, nor with the amount of money he claimed his family lacked. Infact, the way he fully pronounced his vowels, the akanye, the stress he put on certain parts of his words, all pointed to the same dialect you’d heard back in Moscow, more central than anything else.

So how on earth would he have eaten the so-called ‘Royal Cake’ that had only been made eight hours from there, in the town it grew its name from.

There was something glaringly obvious about his story missing.

“A man like me?” She tuned back into the conversation, swallowing another mouthful down as Gideon took another bite himself, though it seemed the topic had turned sour as Arseny wiped his mouth with the corner of his napkin.

“Four watchtowers and a convict signifies a stay in prison,” Spencer cut in, nodding towards the tattoos branded across his knuckles, “Each one of those crosses symbolises an individual sentence,”

“Twenty three years in prison in the Ural mountains,”

But she was still stuck on what it was she was missing. It had been such an odd thing to lie about, particularly when he’d even admitted himself that they hadn’t had much money, so he clearly hadn’t been lying to fake a reputation.

So why lie?

She was ripped out of her stumped silence when Natalya entered the restaurant, her voice grabbing the men’s attention immediately.

“Mr Lysowsky. You said you could help me,” She said, her purse over her shoulder and her own car keys gripped tightly in her hand as if she’d all but thrown herself out the vehicle to get there faster.

“Don’t you already have help,” Lysowsky snapped, clearly Gideon had dug under his skin enough to garner a reaction.

“I made a mistake,” Natalya replied, barely meeting Bugsy’s gaze as she stared at her from her seat at the table. “I talked to my father on the phone,”

The girl frowned at her, “That’s a lie,” It came out before she could hold herself, brows furrowed at whatever it was she was trying to pull. Gideon said her name in a reprimand, though he too was looking at the woman as if she’d grown a second head.

“Thankyou for coming, but I don’t need your help,” The woman met her confused look with a saddened expression, nodding to her solemnly.

Leave it alone, she seemed to be saying, there’s nothing more I want you to do.

And with that, the two of them left the restaurant, Natalya walking by his side obediently, her purse tucked in close under her arm, as Morgan and Cramer filed in from the parking lot, watching their only leads drive away without a fight.

–

The team were quick to head back to Natalya’s home, only to find the ear missing and the finger gone too, the only evidence left of any crime being committed leaving with the victim’s daughter herself.

“She’s not here, and the garbage was never taken out,” Morgan said with a grimace as he walked down the front steps to meet the four of them on the sidewalk.

“Her dad just went missing, surely we can cut the girl some slack-” Bugsy words were hidden in a huff, rolling your eyes at the man who cut a glance to her.

“No, no. When Hotch first talked to us, he said she noticed her father’s car in the driveway when she took the garbage out,” Morgan explained, his shades blocking the way the cogs turned behind his dark eyes.

“Right?” Reid asked, his own sunglasses now covering his eyes that winced at the brightness, surrounding them.

“Garbage can in the kitchen is completely full, she never took it out.”

“She lied,” Gideon said with finality, the penny beginning to drop for him too.

“She could be half way back to Dolgo-whatever by now,” Morgan scoffed, his arms smacking against his side as the lightbulb went off over her head, the final puzzle piece falling into place.

“Dolgoprudny?” Spencer asked, exchanging a glance with Cramer, “Isn’t that where Lysowsky’s from-”

“Yes, YES, of course!” She exclaimed, grabbing onto Spencer’s arm as he spoke.

He looked at her with wide eyes, not that she could see since his shades blocked the way, only to feel her shake him harder in the midst of her enthusiasm. Part of him wanted to rip his arm out of her grip, waiting for the sickness to crawl up his throat at a strangers germs touching him, but the oddest part of him reasoned she had the same germs as Emily did, that the fifty percent DNA the women shared negated the fact she was a stranger, just as it did when he met Jack. Jack had Hotch germs. Bugsy had Emily’s. He didn’t feel so sick thinking of it like that.

“I knew I was missing something,” She said, turning to Gideon, “He was lying before, about his favourite dessert. There was no way he could have had Leningradsky with his mother. Given his age, at that time in Soviet Russia, shortbread was incredibly expensive, only extremely wealthy families could have eaten it. That, and given the Central dialect he speaks in, I’d pinpointed he lives somewhere near or around Moscow, which means there was no way he was eating that cake considering it was only ever baked in one shop at first, one way up in Leningrad, where St Petersburg is now, like nine hours away from Moscow-”

“What’s your point?” Cramer asked, tired of the somewhat slew of thoughts she’d been saving until she knew for sure what she meant.

“Before when he said it was ‘our favourite’, I don’t think he was talking about him and his mother,” She explained, looking to see if Spencer at least understood what she was getting at.

“It was him and his own child…” Spencer finished, as Morgan’s phone began ringing.

“Yeah, what?” He asked, the frustration clear in his tone that they were all still without the evidence needed to pin it on Lysowsky, “You’re sure? Uh-huh. Okay, thanks doll,”

The four of them looked at him expectantly as he nodded to her, “Garcia just got into the bank’s system, somebody wired 500 thousand dollars into the account ten minutes ago,”

“Who wired it?” Spencer asked, though he was still reeling from the way she’d touched him, the way her voice went up about five octaves and a dozen decibels.

“She didn’t say, but the name on the account is Lyov Fulenko. She says that’s Lysowsky’s wife’s maiden name. Fulenko.” Morgan replied, and her brows furrowed.

“Why did she bring us into this?” Gideon asked, though the solemn look on his face said he already knew, “Because she needed to put pressure on the other victim,”

Gideon headed towards Mr Gorban’s house once more, though it was clear he had already sketched out in his head who was their unsub and Natalya’s involvement, he simply needed the confirmation.

Morgan clapped a hand on her back, “Nice job, baby Prentiss. Those were some mean profiling skills out there,”

She frowned at him, scoffing, “I’m not a profiler, that’s Emily’s job. It was just basic linguistics really; more a display of how I need to lay off cake for a while.”

The man kissed his teeth with a grin, “Don’t put yourself down. What’s your degree even in?”

She shrugged, picking under her nails for something to do, “Individualised genomics and health.” She said as if it were child’s play, though Spencer’s head shot to her.

“Biotechnology?” He asked, and she glanced at him with a nod, “What’s your thesis on?”

Gideon had returned by the time he’s asked, and began corralling the two of them back to the car, “We’re heading back to the restaurant. We need to speak with Lysowsky again,”

But it had fallen on deaf ears as Spencer looked at her expectantly.

“Just some new research into prenatal screening, nothing too fun,” She simpered, climbing into the back seat as he nodded with her.

“I read a fascinating paper on the uses of hCG in a woman’s body-”

“Reid,” Gideon cut him off with a short glance from the front seat, “Continue this conversation once we’ve found Mr Chernus alive,”

Spencer blushed, feeling like a kid caught in the cookie jar, “Sorry, sir,” He looked over at her, only to see her hiding a smile to herself.

He thinks it was then he’d decided Emily had been wrong about her.

“You paid the ransom already,” Gideon said plainly, the four of them trailing behind him as he followed Lysowsky to a small seating area in the front of the restaurant. She could tell the whole way Spencer had been itching to ask her more questions about her paper, barely contained as his fingers had twitched in his lap, but he seemed to straighten himself out once she’d reached the restaurant, “You paid all the ransoms,”

“Sit,” The boss ordered, barely glancing at them as he held his strong whiskey up.

“Are they going to kill Mr Chernus?” Morgan asked, cutting to the chase as Lysowsky spared him a bored glance.

“No,” He replied shortly, the look on his face about as grumpy as when they’d left.

“The account is in the name of Lyov Fulenko. Lyov is a man’s name.” Spencer input, crossing his arms as the boss glared at him, “A son’s name. Vory v Zakone. Never have a family of your own. No wife. No children.”

“Lyov,” He looked at her then, gesturing to her with the glass of strong liquor, “You know what it means?”

“The Lion,” She replied gravely, steeling herself against his dark eyes.

“No one else would be so stupid,” Lysowsky ran a hand over his weathered face, swigging his drink as if it was the only thing keeping him talking. “At first it didn’t mean much. It was a way of letting him earn his own money. I could afford it, it came from the fund. And no one questions the use of the fund-”

“Where is he?” Gideon asked, his elbows on his knees as he leaned in.

“What else could I do?” He was ignored, “I couldn’t admit I wasn’t blessing the kidnappings, I couldn’t even admit my son existed.” He huffed when he saw Gideon’s face unmoving from the glower, his question still unanswered, “Chernus will be home in a few minutes. You should be there, he will need medical attention,” He shooed them away, with his final words, drink sloshing in his hand. His face darkened, impossibly so, and the five of them looked at him, something sad and remorseful shining back.

“What are you gonna do?” She asked, though she had a feeling she already knew the answer.

“Vory v Zakone.” He said heavily, nodding to her, “We take care of our own troubles.”

It was a silent journey back to the Chernus’ house.

Morgan and Reid pulled up to the campus, the younger girl in the back seat almost dozing off with the rhythmic hum of the engine, the evening sun much nicer on Spencer’s sensitive eyes.

“This is you, baby Prentiss,” Derek’s voice jolted her out of the half sleep she was in, straightening herself from where she had her head pressed against the window.

“Thanks,” She muttered, rubbing her eyes and unbuckling herself as they did the same, assuming they wanted to walk her back to her dorm since it had gotten dark, “I’ll be okay on my own, campus security should be out by now,”

“You sure?” Reid asked, flicking his watch up to his eyes to see the meagre 6:13pm staring back at him, “I thought they started at 7,”

She blinked at him, her eyebrows quirking for a moment, “How do you know that?”

“Johns Hopkins was my backup option- well actually it was my third, I much preferred Caltech’s curriculum, Yale was my second-” He started, flicking a glance to her where she waited for him to finish, “Not that Johns was bad, there were just better- alternative options out there-”

“Don’t shit your pants, I’m hardly the dean of the university,” She chuckled indignantly patting them both on the shoulder before sliding over to open the door, “Nice meeting you both, I’ll just get back to my mediocre college with my poor curriculum, nothing like the solid gold bathrooms at Caltech-”

“I never said that!” She laughed again, with her whole chest, at his defensive tone as she stepped out the car, hand on the door to shut it behind her.

Leaning down to give them both a wave goodbye, Derek’s voice stopped her again, “Baby Prentiss, do us all a favour and enrol yourself into forensics, we need more people on our team,”

Smirking at him, she shook her head, “Very funny. Never gonna happen. I like my little slides and samples, thankyou,”

Slamming the door on the two of them she headed for the front gates, swinging her purse over her shoulder. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, and she quickly realised she’d been too tired to even realise a set of footsteps jogging after her.

Maybe she should have taken that walk home after all.

Whirling around, her eyes widened as Spencer had clearly not been leader of the track team as he was half out of breath just from the few feet he’d covered, though she reckoned she could have guessed that seeing his lean ribs beneath his shirt.

He shoved a business card in her face as he caught his breath, though it was more just his name and credentials followed by a phone number.

“I-I don’t have email otherwise I would-” He huffed, scratching his forehead as she frowned and looked at him.

“I’ve never been hit on via business card before,” She bit her lip with a smile, reading over the card again as he choked on his words even more than before.

“N-no, I-” He spluttered, ignoring the way Morgan beeped the horn for him, seemingly in a debate with a ticket metre that had caught him parked on yellow, “If you needed us for anything, or if you needed a second pair of eyes for your thesis, I’m happy to help,”

“You don’t have faith in the dummy that got into Johns?” She asked, and his head couldn’t shake fast enough, though he seemed to catch her teasing and shared her smile, “Thanks, Dr Reid,”

“Spencer’s just fine,” He said, giving her a small nod and a wave as Morgan’s palm bounced on the horn a dozen times. She flashed him one more smile, pocketing his number and heading back to her dorm, wondering what the doctor would think about the paper due in tomorrow she’d yet to get started on.

+1. The one where you get arrested.

The case had been heavy. They’d felt it in the car on the way back to headquarters. A little girl, molested and groomed by her own uncle, his own wife covering for him.

His mother always told him love makes you do crazy things, but Spencer hoped that whatever part of him worth loving would at least stay sane by the time he found the one. He was loyal to his team, to his mother, but that was where he drew the line. He was loyal to his family, undoubtedly so.

Yet so was Emily.

The call came to the second SUV, her phone set up to hands free mode, quickly flicking to answer the call on speaker, the other half of the team ahead of them on the freeway.

“Prentiss, speaking. Who is this?” She spoke clearly to the unknown number, her knuckles going white at the wheel when she heard a nervous laugh.

“It’s me,” Her sister mumbled through the speaker, “You wouldn’t by any chance be near DC would you?”

She huffed, cursing the knack Prentiss women had for showing up at the worst times.

“Can’t this wait, I’m on the clock,” Emily hissed, her finger edging towards the ‘End Call’ button, “I’ll call you after,”

“Wait, wait, don’t hang up!” As if sensing her movements, she all but screeched, “This was my one phone call, they won’t let me have another,”

The car went silent for a moment, Spencer’s eyes narrowing on the dash from his place in the passenger seat, JJ also leaning forward from the back with a frown.

Emily grit her teeth, her upper lip twitching the way it did when she was mad.

“What do you mean by one phone call? Where are you?” She bit in a cautious tone, though knowing how reckless Bugsy tended to be, she had a pretty good idea.

The hesitation on the other end of the line was palpable, as was the way she awkwardly cleared her throat.

“Fairfax County Jail,” She murmured sheepishly, “But it wasn’t my fault, these assholes don’t know what they’re talking about, I swear-”

“Stay there and keep your mouth shut,” Emily ordered, her expression furrowing into a sneer, “And for the love of god don’t antagonise the officers,”

The agent didn’t even wait for a response, knowing it would probably be something snarky, her mind already racing at what the hell her sister could have done this time, every worst possible explanation jumping to the forefront.

“I’ll call Hotch and tell him to turn around,” JJ offered, her fingers already searching her contacts for their boss, as Emily sighed through her nose.

“Tell him not to worry, I’ll drop you guys back to headquarters, make my way there myself,” She said, picking the skin of her nail softly with her thumb.

“By the time we’ve reached Quantico, visiting times will be over and she’ll have to stay the night,” Spencer pointed out, his own surprise evident. Sure, she had certainly been a personality when they had met, but a criminal seemed a stretch.

“Maybe it would teach her a lesson,” Emily mused, shaking her head to herself, “Who am I kidding, that psycho would Shawshank her way out of there by dawn,”

“You don’t actually think she would hurt anyone do you?” JJ said, the dial tone ringing out from the phone she held to her ear.

“Wouldn’t put it past her. She once cut a girl's pigtail off for wearing the same dress as her on her birthday,” Emily winced as Spencer’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“I thought getting swirlied was bad,” He muttered, watching out the window as Emily made a U-turn at the traffic lights. He and the now twenty three year old had been bouncing research papers back and forth for a few months, the odd one every week, Bugsy even once joking it was much more interesting and riveting than foreplay, which had his face red hot at his desk.

She was like that, he’d quickly realised, had a vulgar sort of humour about her, yet he couldn’t help the snigger that came out whenever he’d receive one of his papers back through the mail with pink writing scrawled all over his ideas. The little hearts that dotted her exclamations whenever she wrote “AMAZING!”, the odd time she’d written “sexy ideas, doctor Reid” which he’d come to understand meant it was really good. He’d even gotten back the drawing at the end of the paper of a stickman of the two of them, his hair a curly scribble and a purple tie which told him immediately who was who, her line of a hand pointing at his caricature with the speech bubble, “everyone point and wave at the smart man,” which had made him laugh.

She was odd, toeing the line between childish and witty, nothing like the scholars he usually worked with, and the writing he usually sent back on her papers were all in standard black ink, his own pharmacist handwriting staring back at him as he crammed in his every thought of her research into the margins. If she couldn’t read it, she hadn’t said, but he liked to think she took notice of it all, even if it wasn’t strewn with stars and doodles and the occasional flirt he knew meant nothing. He knew her from her writing, knew her from her ideas that sometimes kept him up at night thinking more about them, but the two of them hadn’t spoken directly, most certainty hadn’t seen one another since that day with the Chernus’.

Emily hummed, fingers drumming on the wheel, entirely unaware of the thoughts rattling around in Spencer’s head, then again that’s how it always was, “I just pray to god she’s listened to me for once in her damn life and keeps quiet,”

“Fucking bitch. The nuns in Moscow hit harder than you,” She spat, blood dribbling from her split lip. She wasn’t entirely lying, but god did her mouth sing with pain as she tried to muffle a moan.

“You got jokes, pig lover?” The other woman asked, a tattoo covering half her cheek, her nose crooked from the shiner the Prentiss girl had already given her. “Won’t be fucking laughing when I’m done, bitch,” The woman was quick to tackle the girl around her stomach, slamming her into the hard concrete of the holding cell. Bugsy felt her skull rattle, the wind whooshing from her chest as rough hands grab her shirt and pin her down harder.

The younger girl reached the nerve under her opponent's armpit, the soft of her ribs, twisting until the woman gave a bark of shock, and she took the opportunity to shove her off, climbing on top of her as they both scrambled for some sort of control.

“I got one for you. What’s got a broken nose, a black eye and doesn’t know what’s good for her?” She swung twice as hard, the other women in the cell rattling against the bars as if watching a matador taunt a bull, the air thick with excitement as the two of them cursed eachother out.

Emily’s sigh was audible across the room as the wardens separated the cat fight, the largest of the officers all but grabbing her sister by the scruff of the neck like a feral beast, dragging her over with stubborn feet to where the BAU stood in the lobby, eyes widened at the state of her.

“You better start acting your age, little girl. Mommy’s not gonna be around forever to save you,” The officer hissed in her ear, manhandling her over to where Emily glared daggers into the side of her head. She knew that look, it was eerily similar to mom’s that time she’d been caught sneaking out of the house, something in the warm brown of Emily’s eyes frosting over into a cold blackness. Fury.

She chewed her words for a moment, waiting until the man had turned around with a grunt of acknowledgement to the badge Emily had flashed to get his attention, before she spoke.

“She’s not my mom, she's my sister, dumbass-” Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, gripping her shoulder with the bear-like strength her jagged nails possessed when she was mad, the scoff of disgrace leaving her mouth as her team trailed behind the two of them.

“What the hell happened, baby Prentiss?” Morgan asked, ignoring the way Emily’s heated gaze turned on him, “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Don’t entertain her, Morgan,” Emily seethed, all but shoving her into the back of the SUV. She looked up at her sister with an open mouth, the guilt flashing in her eyes as she wavered under the pointing finger Emily jabbed in her face, “Don't you even dare,”

“But-” She stammered, cut off when she saw the glare intensified, if that had even been possible.

“I don’t want to hear another word from you for the rest of the day unless you’re prepared to give me a good explanation why I’ve dragged my team out here to save your sorry ass,” Emily hissed, and the girl’s mouth bobbed a few times, feeling the rest of the team watching as she got thoroughly chewed out.

“Wait-” Emily’s hand lingered at the car door, ready to slam it in her face as she rubbed her cuff over her chin, mopping up the damage. Her head tilted for a moment, hoping her sister had something good to say, only for it to be; “He just called you old, I hope you realise that,”

Emily’s gaze darkened, slamming the door shut with an anger she imagined her mother had kept warm for the past twenty three years, whirling around heatedly when she heard a snigger from one Derek Morgan.

“Damn, mama, hear the girl out.” He said, slapping a hand on the woman’s shoulder as he passed, heading back to their own SUV, “Maybe she’ll surprise you,”

If Emily was going to bite anything back, she didn’t. Instead she ran a hand over her brow, the group disbanding to their cars now the problem child had been picked up from daycare, except for Hotch who watched the older Prentiss with a scowl, despite the worry in his eyes.

“Hotch, I’m so sorry, just take it off my timecard, I’ll cover all the costs,” She said shakily, her own frown adorning her face as she felt herself blush from embarrassment under her boss’s gaze.

“I understand she’s your sister, but this was a gross misuse of agent time and resources, Prentiss,” He said, his gaze drifting to where Spencer sat next to the girl, pulling a packet of tissues and hand sanitizer out of his satchel while JJ rooted through her own purse for a plaster, “Don’t let it happen again,”

Emily nodded vehemently, flushed with anger, her palms sticky as she wiped them on her jeans.

“Absolutely sir. Believe me, this ever happens again, she’s on her own,” She replied, though they both knew she didn’t mean it. Emily would never.

He nodded stonily, deciding quickly that it was punishment enough that she felt so ashamed, he knew from his years of arguments with Sean what it was like to have a sibling stray so far.

“We can fill out reports in the morning, just get Reid and JJ home,” Hotch said, putting a tentative hand on her shoulder as he passed her to head towards his own vehicle, “And try not to kill each other in the company car. It doesn’t look good on paperwork,”

She beat off the smile on her lips as she got back into the driver's seat, the air that engulfed the four of them foul as she glared over her shoulder and into the back. Spencer twitched in his seat uncomfortably, his hand still passing over tissues to the bloodied girl.

“So, you gonna tell me what that was about?” Emily asked, her tone brittle and warning, not in the mood for any snarky response she could give, “Or is this old lady going to have to lay into you some more,”

The smell of strong ethanol engulfed her nose as she held the soaked tissue to her face, frowning into her lap silently and avoiding the burning stare as Emily stuck the keys in the ignition and started the car.

“Let’s start with why you were there,” JJ input, the same tone of voice she used as when talking to victims, calm and motherly, unlike the pissed off snarl Emily gave, “You wanna tell us why you were arrested?”

“You two really gonna pull the good cop, bad cop on me?” She snapped, her lip swelling around the wound, tongue grazing it softly despite the heavy taste of the sanitizer.

Emily said her name in a warning, her last warning, and she knew better than to push her luck even more, the SUV pulling out of the station and onto the road.

“I was just shopping for groceries,” She started, fiddling with the bloodied tissue, wincing under her tongue stroke, “Store clerk made a pass at me, I told him I wasn’t interested. So he put a pack of smokes in my handbag while I wasn’t looking; the alarms went off. I didn’t even know what was happening until security grabbed me at the door,”

JJ flashed a glance at Emily, like two parents deciding an appropriate punishment, the brunette’s lips straightening out into a line.

“You’re telling the truth?” She asked cautiously, glancing in the rear view mirror to see how her sister balled the mess of paper between her palms.

Rolling her eyes, she gladly accepted the other packet of tissues Spencer slid over the leather seat between them.

“I went out for milk and oranges, I was not looking to get picked up, Em,” She bit back, groaning when she felt it jostle the cut, “And certainly not for cigarettes, you know I only smoke on New Years,”

Spencer looked at her with a frown, and she caught his confusion quickly, pulling another leaf of paper from the packet.

“Emily and I had a rule after she caught me smoking when I was like fourteen, that we could have one cigarette between the two of us on New Years eve,” She explained, JJ also perking up to hear it, “So that by the time morning came around, it would be last year’s mistake, and it would be like it never happened,”

JJ smiled to herself, remembering the time she caught Roz sneaking one of her dad’s cigarettes on the back porch back when she was just ten. She remembered the little secrets the two of them kept back then, held them even all these years later.

“So how did that lead to, well,” JJ gestured to her lip, “That,”

“Yeah, didn’t I specifically tell you to not antagonise anyone?” Emily chimed in, signalling she was changing lanes as they headed down the freeway for a second time that day.

“Technically you said not to antagonise the officers,” She pointed out, before Spencer had the chance to, shutting his mouth as he caught the glare Emily shot through the mirror.

“Keep talking,” The older Prentiss ordered, as Bugsy sighed and blotted her lip some more.

“That woman, Mira I think her name was, anyway, she recognised me from that picture mom had us take on Independence Day, the one they put in The Hill, and she asked me if it was true my sister was a fed,”

Emily’s fingers twitched at the wheel, knowing the status agents and even people associated with agents held in prisons; knowing just being a Prentiss in a jail cell held a big, dazzling price over her head that said ‘kill me, kill me!”

The air sucked out of the car, a look passing between JJ and Reid as they thought the same thing, waiting for her to go on.

“So then you hit her?” Emily guessed, the bitterness slowly ebbing as she understood maybe her sister wasn’t as unruly as she thought.

“No, I told her to leave me the fuck alone, but she said you guys sent her brother down for something a while back, and she asked again if my family were all Pigs,” She picked her nails, the blood stain on her sleeve staring back at her, “I told her if she didn’t stop calling you a Pig, I’d make her squeal like one. And then I hit her,”

Emily tried to pretend she didn’t smile hearing that, her cheeks tightening, lips pulling down as she fended it off.

“Is that good enough, officers, or will you be needing fingerprints?” The girl chimed after a moment, a weight seemingly lifted from the car as Emily quickly realised she had, for once, not been entirely at fault.

“I want a handwritten apology to my boss for wasting his time,” Emily demanded, her unforgiving gaze softening when she saw her smile, “And you owe my team coffee,”

“I can do coffee, coffee coming right up,” She agreed, shoving the used tissues into her purse with a crooked smile, “It’s a date,”

Spencers ears turned red, looking over the seat at where she dabbed at her lip gently. She didn’t look much older for six months, but she had gotten her nose pierced since the last time he’d seen her, unless he just hadn’t noticed it before, and the streaks of red were slowly fading out into a blush pink that said it was old, and he wondered if she’d done it herself in that tiny little cubicle bathroom of hers she shared with the four other girls in her block.

“You finished your stats papers yet?” He made polite conversation, though part of him was dying to know out of curiosity if she could crunch numbers and equations as well as she could in her own labs.

“Got two more this week, they’re kicking my ass man,” She replied with a huff, and he didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘man’ by a woman before. He knew if he’d known her in college, ignoring the fact he would have been twelve, he would have thought she may just be the coolest person alive, “I miss my labs with my microscopes and watching all the little baby cells move around in the ethanol. Stats are like, just not sexy,”

He smiled at her as she stared out the window, unaware of the way she’d managed to make DNA sound like a play pen full of kittens. He held off from telling her he found stats really quite sexy, knowing it would never sound the same coming from his mouth.

He pulled a leaf of the tissues from the packet, producing his own pen from his pocket and began doodling carefully so as not to rip the delicate canvas.

Sliding it over to her after five minutes as Emily and JJ made conversation in the front seat, she didn’t care that the grin tugged on her split lip, the reaction was instant, she couldn’t stop it if she tried.

Two stick men stared back at her, her hair a close match in texture and a childish triangle drawn as means of a dress, a very tall stick figure next to her patting her metaphorical head, a speech bubble coming from his mouth.

“Maths is fun!” It said, and she flicked a glance at him, her smile the most genuine he’d seen yet. He just smiled back.

+2. The one where you graduate

Emily felt the looks on her the moment JJ had mentioned Maryland. The case was a little under their pay grade, nothing more than a stalker, no bodies or bloodshed, but one very rattled woman that had turned to the communications liaison with fear for her life.

With Hotch and Rossi in Boston helping a case of their own, the rest of the BAU had been twiddling their thumbs waiting for something to come across their desk.

“This case is in my hands now, and if we do nothing and something happens to her,” JJ took a heavy breath, her eyes lingering on the three names Keri had given her in case of her untimely death, “I’ll be the one notifying her family,”

Derek, despite his own hesitations about using their time for a case like this, caved the moment he saw the guilt on the blonde’s face.

“Okay,” He shuffled the papers into a pile, Emily and Spencer gathering their own resources on the case and standing from the round table.

Luckily, one government SUV was more than enough to carry the four of them for the hour drive North, all of them well aware Hotch would flip if they used more funds than necessary.

JJ piled into the front beside where Morgan climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Emily next to a particularly fidgety Reid. It took all of fifteen minutes of the man flicking a glance at her, his mouth quirking as if he were about to use it, before he thought better and looked out the window, and the whole thing would start again.

Derek, the less shy about his thoughts of the two men, even glanced at her through the rear view mirror, before he too returned his gaze out the window silently. JJ shifted in her seat, knowing she had to tread carefully around mentioning Bugsy to Emily, particularly after the last time they’d seen her. Emily had said they’d grabbed coffee once or twice since then, but that was all she spoke about it, which left her team walking cracked eggshells at the thought of bringing her up.

It seemed the three of them were bursting at the seams with the same thought, and it wasn’t until Reid cleared his voice, his puppy eyes stuck in his loop, that she had had enough.

“Does anyone here have something to say?” Emily huffed, Derek immediately reaching to turn the radio up the same time that JJ flicked the AC on for something to do. Realising they weren’t easily broken, she turned to Spencer who already looked slightly guilty, thumbing at his sweater, “Reid?”

“Did you want to see your sister?” He asked without hesitation, as if the words had fallen out of him, “You know, since we’re so close on this case. It would be a good excuse to-”

“You did say she owed us a coffee,” JJ pointed out, spurred on by Spencer’s nerves, “Wouldn’t mind cashing in if we’re coming all this way.”

“Morgan, do you have anything to add?” Emily asked with raised brows, though she already knew what was coming.

Derek chewed over his thoughts a second, “I’m just saying, you only get to see your baby sisters grow up once- you know, and it couldn’t hurt to see her even if she runs rings around you with that smart mouth-”

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on the case?” Emily cut him off incredulously, but received three knowing looks back. She met JJ’s gaze where the woman had swivelled in her seat to talk to her, and Prentiss was fast to catch the buried grief in her best friend’s eyes. She knew it pained her to even bring up sisterhood, let alone watch Emily throw hers away for the sake of a decade and a half between them. It was the desperation in JJ’s face that did it, knowing she would give anything to spend just an hour with Roz one more time, that had her drawing her cell out her pocket and calling the contact with the little ladybug next to it, “Fine,”

As a profiler she would have been tempted to ignore the way Spencer smiled into his lap; as a sister, her eyes narrowed at him.

The phone rang surprisingly only once before she answered, and she heard an unnaturally tame version of her sister answer.

“Emily?” She asked, her voice hushed, worried almost, “You okay?”

Her brows furrowed, “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” She got no more than a hum in return, somewhat agreeing though Emily could tell clear as day she was holding something back. “Look, we’re gonna be in Silver Spring, I was thinking tomorrow we could grab lunch-”

“Can’t, I’m busy, it’s an all day thing,” Her sister cut her off, yet it wasn’t rude or demeaning like usual. Nervous almost, sad, “Sorry,”

“What’s an all day thing?” Emily asked, the concern matching her words.

Her sister swallowed on the other end of the phone, before she found her words, or maybe even the balls to actually speak, “I’m graduating tomorrow,”

Emily’s face lit up, the smile spreading fast on her face, ignoring the way Morgan’s words seemed to ring true in her ears; she was growing up too fast.

“Graduating, why didn’t you say!” She asked, the joy in her tone unmissable, “How’d your papers go?”

Spencer held himself off from correcting her that she’d only done five papers, that the rest of her results had come from theory and labs, thinking better than to interrupt the one conversation they’d had where there was no underlying argument brewing.

“Full honours, obviously.” Bugsy drawled with a snicker, and Emily shook her head, the smile never dimming.

“Look at you, y’little superstar,” Emily bit her lip, ignoring the guilt that tore at her when she realised she barely knew what Bug spent her days doing, “Did Mom and Dad get good seats? Oh god, dad’s not bringing Stephanie is he?”

The silence on the other end had her halting, the light in the conversation wavering for a second, before she understood the nerves, the quick defence her sister had been on the moment the call had been answered.

“Bug-”

“They’re not coming,” Her heart ached in her chest hearing it, “I sent Mom the details, she said she’s in Ukraine this week settling some papers. Didn’t even get a chance to ask Dad before he and Stephanie were off on their fifth honeymoon in the Bahamas until October,” A painful laugh echoed down the line, as if she were holding back the gravity of the situation.

“Bug,” Emily tried again, picking her thumb viciously, punishingly, hating herself for being so blind to her sister’s troubles, “Why didn’t you invite me?”

“I figured you’d be busy,” Came the reply, sad and tender, the most honest she’d heard in a while, “You’re always busy,”

“Never too busy for you,” Emily’s guilt tripled when her sister didn’t answer, knowing if she were to counter the statement with hard evidence it would only hurt both of them, “Look, I have some time today, probably,” She didn’t, not even a few minutes, “Why don’t we get that coffee, you don’t even have to pay,”

Bugsy gave a sad laugh, “Sorry, Em, I gotta get my dress fitted today, and some of the lab techs invited me to a party later. Maybe some other time,”

“A party with biology nerds?” Emily asked with false excitement, the air turned stagnant between them now, “Well, rock on, science freak. Don’t leave your drinks with strangers, and don’t walk home alone, and for god sake use protection-”

“Bye, Emily,” She said with a chuckle, the older of the two gracing her with the same, as they put the phone down.

The car was quiet, waiting for Prentiss to speak, none of them missing the way her lip pulled between her teeth, a bitterness on her face that told them she was holding in something close to sadness. You’re always busy. It echoed around her head, stabbing at her chest to think her sister was graduating alone, no one to congratulate her, no one to pat her on the back and tell her how clever she is despite the fact Bugsy would happily tell anyone just how smart she was on her own. Never too busy for you.

“She’s graduating tomorrow,” She said to the three people waiting for an update, Spencer’s brows shooting to his hairline. He hadn’t heard from her since her last paper got sent off, and why would he? They had exchanged a few little anecdotes and doodles, sent each other research papers to be graded like teachers exchanging lecture notes, “She didn’t even tell me. She’s gonna be alone,”

JJ grimaced, “What? What about your mom- or, or your dad, an uncle, someone-”

“Mom and dad are out of the country, Mom’s brother lives in Mexico with his seven kids, he can barely get a night’s sleep let alone a day off to travel up to Maryland. Dad’s sisters passed away when I was a kid,” Emily explained, running a hand over her face, “I can’t let her go up there alone,”

“So we don’t,” Spencer said, as if he’d never been more sure of anything in his life, “We don’t let her do it alone,”

“Graduating with Masters in Biotechnology; Jasper Adams, Tom Adamson, Kristen Afkins, Gavin Agriths-”

The dean read off the names of the students as she fiddled with the hem of her dress.

The dress fit beautifully, her make up done to near perfection, her hair styled neatly, she was graduating with full honours for christ sakes. Why couldn’t she just be happy with what she had? Why had she got to be so spoiled?

Lots of peoples parents missed their graduation, lots of people her age didn’t even have parents anymore, she ought to be grateful her mother was increasing famine aid in foreign countries, all the lives she would save, or even be happy her father had found a pretty, rich new wife to tour every known vacation destination with. Or even that her sister had called her just yesterday and told her in a few words she was proud of her.

But none of them quelled the feeling of loneliness that blossomed inside Bugsy. The kind that had always been there, the kind that just wanted someone in her corner, telling her she was doing pretty good for a kid who raised herself in all those big houses they’d moved to, who saw the au pair more often than her own mother.

All those rooms were so empty, the houses so quiet besides for her. It was like living in a cemetery.

“Robert Lewsinsky. Marcus Linford. Tara Lorence. Katie Macauley.”

P would be up soon. Each name of her classmates drew an applause, some whoops and screams, one family she swore there must have been ten of them in the back row cawing and howling like monkeys at a zoo, proud of their son for making it.

She willed a smile on her face, hearing Orla Parkins get called up, and she knew just by the steward that directed her where to stand in line she was close.

“Kenneth Patterson. Joshua Perriman. Harriet Pimms. Lauren Pintons.”

She held a rattled breath as Renly Prackett walked ahead of her, strolling over the stage to collect his degree, flashing the crowd a wide smile and a fist pump. She had always liked Renly, having been his experiment partner for a year, despite the fact he never washed up after himself in the lab.

Then it was, her name was called. The one no one but her mother and Stephanie ever called her, she solely went by Bugsy courtesy of Emily. It was a family name, a nice one at that. Maybe it had been the fact she had been eight and her cool big sister crowned her the new name, or maybe it just rolled off the tongue better, made her feel less like a Prentiss, that she chose to go by her monika.

She tried not to think about where or what Emily was doing, only hoping she was safe, as she began walking over the stage, her heels clicking loudly with her hesitant steps.

To her utmost surprise she heard a loud whistle echo through the auditorium, a group of jeers and screams of her name, even an air horn signing off that had her almost tripping over her own feet turning to see who it was.

Surely it was a joke, a cruel prank, she barely had any friends in her class. Acquaintances sure, but no one so bold as to make such a fuss over her.

Squinting down at the audience, her cap nearly slipping off her head as her head turned to the source, she felt her chest burst when she saw the dark hair and bangs, her sisters butchered fingertips in her mouth with a loud cattle whistle, screaming like a firework right to the stage where she graciously accepted her award, despite the fact she barely paid any attention to the dean anymore, more to her sister who smiled at her widely as she clapped. Behind her, her team she’d met on the off chance, the pretty blonde, JJ, who pressed the air horn a few more times, cheering just as loud for her. Morgan, the handsome one who had stood himself on top of his chair, cupping a hand over his mouth to scream “Kicking ass, baby Prentiss!” at her, ignoring the way other people stared wide eyed at them.

And Spencer, tall enough to be seen over the crowd even without the help of a chair, who smiled at her, clapping those big hands of his loud enough to reach her, his own whoops never ceasing even as she stepped off the stage to head back to her seat.

The rest of the ceremony dragged, a speech from one of the alumni and the exit music playing, but she simply grinned into her hand, where her degree smiled back at her, counting down the moments she would be allowed to stand.

And then she was fast walking down the stairs, amongst the bustle of students, the black gowns flurrying around her as she burst out into the square where parents, fiancees, brothers, sisters, cheered their loved ones, pulling them into tight hugs.

Her eyes scanned the wave of black hats, landing on two dark eyes, the thick sable hair framing the dazzling smile that awaited her with open palms. All but shoving her way through the crowd, she stopped in front of her sister, the urge to jump at her with a hug shying the moment she got close.

“Told you. Never too busy for you, Bug,” Emily said, pulling her in by her shoulders for a tight hug. She knew her sister wasn’t one to beg for affection, wasn’t one to let her guard drop so soon, but she also knew she’d needed it by the way she melted against her, the way she chuckled into her hair, pulled her closer.

“Do I owe your boss another letter of apology for this or do I get you guys for free?” The girl asked, as her sister pulled away, keeping an arm around her shoulder as they turned to the rest of the team.

“No, this one is entirely on us, promise,” JJ said with a smile as she saw Emily beaming maternally over at the girl, the flat of the cap knocking against her cheek as she squeezed her in once more, “We’re very proud of you,”

She heated under the woman’s words, wriggling in her shoes as bad as Emily did when she felt awkward, Derek chuckling and taking the degree out of her hand.

“Alright, lets see the creds, Prentiss,” He held it up next to her face as she shrugged, the ‘4.0’ clear as day next to her name, “Good looking, and smart. Those boys in the lab ought to watch out,”

She grinned under his teasing, “What can I say, I got the deep end of the gene pool,” She teased, feeling Emily swat her ear, her eyes falling to where Spencer held a plant pot with a poorly wrapped bow of twine around it, the soil a little displaced from the journey.

“This is for you,” He said, handing her the small green sproutling, his cheeks blushing as her face lit up, reading the small inscription on the front, “It’s-”

“Dionaea muscipula,” She said, biting her lip as she smiled at him, “This is so cool! Where on earth did- I had a paper last semester on the ways to study their electrophysiology you just have to read- oh thank you!”

“English, please?” Emily asked, though the warmth flooded her chest when her sister threw her arms around a very rigid Spencer.

Thinking she should grab her and warn her the man disliked touch almost as much as she does, she was surprised to see him give her a small embrace back, smiling proudly the way he did when he’d made someone happy.

“Piège à mouches Vénus,” Her sister responded cockily, tugging herself away from the tall man, to inspect her new plant, well aware that Emily rolled her eyes at her use of French, “Venus Fly Trap. I’ve never seen one so young, still I should be able to pull some slides on the Rhizomes in the soil-”

Emily put a hand to her temple, JJ smiling widely as she saw for once Spencer be the one on the receiving end of an earful, chuckling to himself when she began dishing out name ideas for the sapling.

“Holy shit, there’s two of them,” Morgan grumbled, nudging his shoulder into Emily who simply sighed, her migraine already starting as Reid began jumping in with his own thoughts, which didn’t take much effort.

“Don’t even,”

+3. The one where you’re taken hostage

“Tell us about the 911 call,” Spencer requests, flicking through the file himself beside her in the back seat. She had her own set of paperwork in front of her, her pen attached to a clipboard the lanyard around her neck reading her real, honest credentials, unlike the fake ones Emily and Reid were given. She’d been to one of these sects before, invited kindly as part of her research on the effect isolation has on cultivation of crops, knew one of the mother’s well from her last research paper, and had managed to get the group a foot in the door to entering the Separtarian Sect with little fuss.

Hotch, usually hesitant to allow outsiders in on the job, especially as young and spirited as Bugsy, had to admit it would calm any potential unsubs and make them see the team as unthreatening if they had a friendly face there. He’d signed the papers with a frown that morning, and they were on their way to the little apartment the girl occupied just outside Baltimore, sample tubes stuffed into her pack ready.

“I believe the he that they refer to is the church’s leader, Benjamin Cyrus,” Nancy, a woman from child protective services, replied from the driver's seat, Emily thumbing through her papers as they neared the compound.

“Benjamin Cyrus, no criminal record; no record of him at all actually,” Reid replied, watching Bugsy scribbling notes into her lab book, perfecting her report before she had even begun, “What else do you know about him?”

“The sect I spoke to before, the one in Utah, said he was rumoured to be practising polygamy and forced marriages,” The younger woman said, looking back at him with a frown, “They were much more modern in their beliefs than these guys. Last time I spoke to Marina she was happy there, I can’t see why she would want to move here,”

Spencer looked as if he were about to answer, perhaps to tell her he was sure her contact would be just fine, when Emily shrugged and turned to Nancy.

“Do we know who the caller is?” She asked, sipping her now lukewarm coffee out of the disposable cup.

Nancy’s head tilted in a so-so motion, “Uh, Jessica Evansen is the one who the age fits, but we can’t be sure.”

“Well given their view on outsiders, it would be best if you didn’t identify us as FBI.” Emily instructed, handing Reid his new, fake credentials and his gun she’d kept in her bag through customs. “Just use our real names and introduce us as child victim interview experts.” Nancy nodded, the compound coming into view, the dust flurrying under the car wheels as the road turned into nothing more than a sandy path.

A guard seemed to be expecting their arrival as he stood, unarmed at the main gate, unlatching the bolt in the middle and opening it wide for their vehicle to pass through. She nodded in thanks, her eyes flicking out the dirty window to see a collection of mobile homes surrounding a large church, a few smaller outbuildings dotted around the compound. It was quiet, not full of laughter like the last group she had been to, the children nowhere to be seen, only a few of the handier members of the flock that were either fixing up walls, trimming trees besides a man sprawled too casually on the steps of the chapel, a bible in his hands he seemed to be catching up on.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the man that barely batted an eye at their arrival, the safety locks flicking off each of the doors, Nancy collecting her briefcase and exiting the car first.

She had all but reached for the handle when Emily stopped her, swivelling in her seat to look her dead in the eye.

“Your job is mediator, you got that?” Her sister had never looked more serious, but then again she did know her almost too well, “You and your field research are a… buffer between our investigation and the unsub. Just try to take the focus off what we’re doing, but do not provoke anyone,”

She raised her hands in innocence, “Got it, jeez, what could I possibly do that could ruin this investigation?”

Emily stared back at her blankly, unnamused, as if they both knew there was a lot she could, and would, do that would blow the whole thing.

“You look like mom when you give me that look,” She bit back, leaving the car, as Nancy spoke to the man laying on the steps, “It’s terrible,”

“I’m looking for Mr Benjamin Cyrus?” Nancy reported, her tight, knee length skirt and blouse entirely out of place amongst the dirt track.

“You found him,” The man replied, still not so much as granting them a glance of interest as he flicked through his passages.

“I’m Nancy Lunde, we spoke on the phone regarding the allegation,” She replied, which was the only thing that garnered his attention as he looked up at them behind slightly bent reading glasses.

“Savages they call us; because our manners differ from theirs,” He said, though it was clear it wasn’t entirely his own words, more likely a segment of his preach he’d repeated a handful of times. Bugsy tried to hide her disgust behind her hand tightening around her lab books she kept tightly to her chest.

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr Cyrus,” Nancy snipped as he approached the group, pocketing the glasses though he kept hold of the bible in hand as if it was part of his own arm.

“Actually it’s Benjamin Franklin,” Spencer murmured to the woman, which had Cyrus’ cold brown eyes narrowing at the tall man, assessing for a motive.

“Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid. They’re child victim interview experts,” Nancy introduced them quickly, the two of them flashing their badges, the unofficial ones at least. Gesturing to the youngest woman, she introduced her with her real name, his gaze flicking to her as he seemed to recognise it.

“Marina’s friend? The plant lady?” He asked, face half amused as she fought her lip from twitching into a sneer. Instead she smiled, holding out her hand.

“That’s what they call me,” She said, shaking his hand, ignoring the way he flashed her a cheshire cat smile, “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by, Marina said I could take some samples for my research,”

He laughed, shaking his head, looking at Spencer, “Women and their flowers, right?” Spencer swallowed back a retort, shrugging his shoulders, though Bugsy’s eye twitched. Benjamin patted her on her shoulder, “Of course you can honey, I’ll find Jared, our head gardner, and you can run along for your research,”

He said it as if she were lying, that her degree and endless hours of work would only ever chalk up to a few doodles in a notebook, or a garden full of hydrangeas, or tulips, or roses, because she couldn’t possibly care about anything else but pretty flowers.

Nodding her head graciously, choking back the hateful response she wished to spit in his face, she gave him a polite thankyou, feeling Spencer’s eyes burning into the side of her head.

“The children are in the school as I indicated,” Cyrus said, turning back to the other three, Emily and Nancy taking off in the direction he pointed, the former knowing her sister was at risk of blowing a fuse if they were here for long.

Spencer hung back, partially because he had a plan of distraction in mind to allow the women a chance to speak with the children whilst Cyrus wasn’t around, partially because he didn’t want to leave Bugsy anywhere on her own. Sure, Emily had said they were both trained in self defence when they were kids, but with no weapon of her own, he was reluctant.

“You're using solar power?” He prompted, gesturing towards where the eight blue panels warmed under the Colorado sun.

“We’re completely self-sufficient,” Benjamin nodded along, catching the impressed look on both their faces, “Electricity, food, water. Ben Franklin said ‘God helps those that help themselves,’ you look surprised,”

“No, impressed actually,” Spencer replied, and he wasn’t entirely lying. The system was incredibly complex, particularly if they received no help from outsiders, for as many people as there were in the compound.

“Thankyou; for admitting that,” Cyrus said earnestly, flicking his gaze back to Bugsy who studied the solar panels, “I’ll go find Jared, he can take you to the greenhouses,”

Thanking him again, he led the way towards the school where Nancy and Emily had headed, as the two of them exchanged a look, Spencer smiling half piteously, wishing he could shake her and tell her just how smart she was and that Cyrus knew absolutely nothing.

He didn’t miss the way she walked closer to him, or how she thumbed the corner of her notebook, or how she looked back at him, biting the inside of her cheek. He thinks he might get slapped if he pointed it out, but Emily had the exact same tell when she was nervous, which is why he bumps their shoulders together in means of reassuring her he was still there.

It was only then she gave him any sort of smile back.

Jared, as expected, had been just as condescending and patronising as Benjamin whilst she slipped on her latex gloves, scooping no more than a handful of homemade fertiliser into one of her test tubes. It had been a partial cover, their story, but she had been telling the truth when she’d contacted Marina and asked if she could drop by. She’d been meaning to expand her field research in hopes of stumbling on a job opportunity since she spent most of her postgraduate days reading while her cat pawed at her leg for more treats than he deserved, the odd phone call with her sister much more common than it had been before.

She didn’t miss the way Jared’s hand fell into the small of her back as he led her back towards the school, after having noted down a few more readings, fussing over the state of the carrots that seemed to grow entirely naturally thanks to the systems they’d been smart enough to set up. He seemed rather bored by the whole thing, for a head gardener, more interested in staring at her legs as she leaned down to identify the fat black beetle that crawled along the rockery.

It wasn’t until they were halfway to the school that the sound of tyres on a dirt path met her ears, and she saw five armoured SUVs out the corner of her eye.

She hadn’t even the time to question what was going on, before Jared’s face dropped, the hand gently holding the soft of her back grabbing on her forearm hard enough to leave bruises, as he was dragging her to the chapel they had seen when they had pulled up.

Emily had said the rest of the team stayed in Quantico, if it wasn’t them, who was it.

“Whats going on- who is that?” She asked him lamely, her feet stumbling as she half fought his heavy hand off.

That was when the shooting started.

She thinks it came from the compound first, she’d seen two men stationed on top of one of the outbuildings, thinking nothing much of it, until she saw clearly now the assault rifles they bore, pointing it straight at the vehicles that drew closer. The whistle of bullets, bangs of the chambers emptying their artillery, and it wasn’t until she heard the doors to the SUVs start opening, more gunfire began hitting the wall ahead of them that she started running. Running fast, for the cover the church provided until she figured out just what the fuck was happening.

Jared all but threw her past the chapel door, where Cyrus and four other men were waiting, a heavy barricade in their hands, her chest pounding with adrenaline, she couldn’t help the yelp that left her as Cyrus whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders firmly and looking her dead in the eye.

“Did you know anything about this?” He asked, his calm demeanour cracking when she scrambled for a response, “ANSWER ME,”

“No-no not at all.” She shook her head, voice weaker than she’d like, but the sight of more guns in the men’s hands twisted any resolve she had, “Where are the others- the- the experts-”

“Take her into the tunnels,” Cyrus ignored her question, nodding at one of his men to grab her as Jared armed himself. She felt another callused hand yank on her upper arm, and part of her wondered if that was how men handled all women here, as if they were herding cattle, as she was dragged down into the catacombs below the church.

They’d made plans for a day like this to come, she realised.

Her heart constricted at the sound of bullets rattling above them, she hadn't been able to tell in that last moment whether Cyrus believed her or not as, nor whether she was being taken to the tunnels for her own safety or to be questioned harder about the gunmen.

She could only hope Emily was safe.

She felt her tongue too big for her mouth as the man all but shoved her into the bunker, the nervous chatter of women and children, some of the more elderly men, as they clung to one another for safety, the scathing remark she would have usually made about his heavy hands failing her as she scanned the room for her sister.

Emily was faster however, and she nearly yelped again as two bony arms yanked her into a hug, a rare one, and she knew by the blazer and the sigh of relief in her ear it was Em.

Usually she would bat her off, tell her to stop fussing like a mother hen, but today she embraced her right back, trying to note if her sister had any bullet holes in her before she allowed herself the same relief.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Emily asked, the whole thing coming out in a slew of worry, and she nodded, pulling away as if she needed to see the proof in person.

Bugsy’s eyes were wild, as if she were a doe in a meadow hearing a rifle cocking near. No scratch that, she was a doe being chased and shot at and hunted, narrowly escaping being mounted on a wall.

“They were all shit shots,” Bugsy said, through a laugh she didn’t quite mean, “You would have done much better.”

Patting her sister on the shoulder, Emily finally released her when she realised the humour meant she at least had her head on her shoulders. Spencer watched her with meticulous eyes, knowing the shock that registered on her face, knowing it was the same one he wore when he first had shots fired at him. He saw her own eyes quickly check him over, satisfied with a breath of relief when she saw they were both fine.

“Where’s Lunde?” Emily asked, and she realised then Cyrus had followed her down into the shelter, two of his men grabbing handfuls of guns she had never seen before, likely imported out of country, and returning to the ground level, preparing for more shooting.

“It wasn’t us,” Cyrus replied, as if that negated the fact their recklessness had gotten the agent killed.

“What? You can’t shoot it out with the cops, you have children in here,” Emily seethed, her voice harsh and incredulous.

“I didn’t start this,” Cyrus bit back, looking towards his men as they grabbed boxes on boxes of ammunition, “I’ll take the front, you take the roof,”

And with that they stormed their way back through the tunnels, leaving the three of them to look between each other, knowing this could only end badly. Knowing the only people that could figure out how to get them out of this mess was the BAU, all 1,700 miles away.

–

They’d been in the bunker for fourteen hours when there was finally movement. The shooting seemed to have quietened down, in which Spencer whispered it was around 11pm and it was likely neither party had a clear shot. She’d managed to fall asleep leaning against the wall, Emily’s blazer draped over her legs. She’d regretted wearing cropped pants, despite how the shade of green complimented her eyes nicely, and she’d been shivering by the time she fell asleep, Emily’s hands stroking her hair gently as if she knew she was struggling to relax.

She hadn’t realised she was staring at her little sister, frowning even as she slept, which made part of her want to laugh, until she caught Spencer’s tired eyes looking between them, something knowing and warm in his gaze.

“You know, she’s always scowled in her sleep, ever since she was born,” Emily said, quiet enough it didn’t interrupt the hum of small snores, the odd baby cry that filled the bunker, but loud enough for him to smile at her, “She used to sleep walk terrible too. I’d find her in the kitchen trying to make pancakes with a cheese grater. It’s like that big brain of hers doesn’t know how to shut off,” Emily shook her head with a fatigue, rubbing her eyes.

“Was it weird? Being fourteen years older?” Spencer asked, his own hands shoved into his sleeves to try defend from the draught. Emily thought for a moment, her hand slowing for a second on her sister's hair, before she answered.

“I felt guilty leaving her in that house with my mom when I went to college,” Emily answered, Bugsy unconsciously tucking her face closer into the jacket, “I think part of her kind of hated me for it for a while.” She went quiet, the shame in her voice thick as the silence that encompassed them, “She’s never been very affectionate you know? Before her graduation I don’t think I’d hugged her in twelve years,”

Spencer held himself back from pointing out that she had been just as touchy with him since they’d met, and that maybe it was Emily’s own regret that seemed to shut the both of them down. He wasn’t one to rub salt in the wound, not since he’d gotten this job and learned to watch what he said.

He didn’t know what to say, didn’t want to give her advice, knowing the whole subject of their slowly repairing relationship was a sore one. He had no siblings of his own, had a mother who loved him despite how much she grappled with her own mind, and he had only known the girl briefly enough to consider her a friend at a push.

“I always thought the two of you were similar,” Emily chose to continue, offering him a small smile. He returned it, his face blushing at the fact that was a huge compliment to him, “Granted, you roll your eyes at me less and don’t act like I’m dumb, but you remind me of her,”

“Thankyou, I wish that were true,” He replied, eyes flicking to her sleeping form, the way her eyebrows were indeed scrunched in a permanent frown. He wondered if she was actually angry, or if she was just thinking hard, perhaps her dreams were full of equations or labs she needed to sort through. Either way, he wanted to know. “She’s much cooler than I’ll ever be,”

Emily snorted, shuffling against the wall to cosy herself, “That’s one way to put it,” She said, smiling over at him as he did the same, his head resting against the wall, Bugsy’s legs stretching out to knock against his feet, and he didn’t mind that she scuffed the bottom of his already dirty trousers. “Get some sleep,”

And so they did.

–

Cyrus had corralled the whole flock into the church, where the shooting had stopped and the bodies had been removed, stating at the break of dawn that there was a hostage negotiator coming in to make sure everyone was safe before they made any deals.

She sat next to Spencer, the three of them stiff from their sleeping arrangements, and her stomach churned with hunger. It had been over 24 hours since they’d gotten here, and besides the small bit of bread and water Cyrus gave everyone for breakfast, she was starving.

“Remind me to never leave the house, ever again,” She grumbled, as everyone waited in the pews for the negotiator to arrive, “My cat is gonna be pissed I’ve not fed him,”

“Since when did you get a cat?” Emily inputted from the other side of Reid, keeping one eye on the door in case any agents start shooting again.

The girl shrugged, “I got lonely, there’s not much to do now I’m not studying anymore,”

Reid watched how she clutched her stomach, feeling his own complaining at the lack of nutrition, “Morgan wasn’t lying when he said you should sign up for the academy. We could always use the help, we wouldn’t have solved that case in Baltimore without you,”

She snickered, nudging his foot with her boot, “You’re being modest, you would have done it just fine,”

He was a little, wasn’t surprised she called his bluff either. “Okay, so probably yes- but it would have taken us a whole lot longer. Mr Chernus likely would have died,”

She shook her head, glancing at Emily who watched her carefully, “That was all you guys. I just translated.”

Emily and Spencer exchanged a glance, leaning back in their uncomfortable seats calmly.

“You’re probably right,” Spencer said, dusting the dirt off his trousers, “Probably couldn’t handle it, high intensity mind games and such,”

She blanched, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head, not knowing him to be so brutally honest, realistic yes, but not bordering on rude.

“And it’s a lot of work,” Emily jumped in, her mouth a straight line, “I don’t know if you’d be dedicated enough,”

Bugsy scoffed, indifferently. “I have a masters degree, I was offered a scholarship to do a PHD, asked to be an assistant professor at Yale, I can work hard, Emily,” She snipped, and perhaps she was particularly just hangry or they had struck a nerve with their doubt, “and I could do it if I wanted to, I’d have the best shot they’d ever seen, guaranteed- mom made me take lessons when you left- trust me I could do it-”

She shut up when she saw their small smile exchanged, as if she’d told them a joke, or moreso they’d had the same identical thought and that alone was hilarious.

Scowling at them, she looked from where Spencer looked almost, almost, guilty at making her the butt of the joke, to where Emily had a ‘told you so’ smirk, and she kissed her teeth at their childishness.

“Are you guys reverse psychology-ing me? Seriously, so original guys,” She snapped, crossing her arms and straightening herself in her seat, ignoring the snigger that passed between them.

“You’re not wrong though,” Emily replied quietly as Cyrus walked past them, his eyes falling to them with a frown. Bugsy kept her head down, heeding Emily’s warning of not provoking anyone, and Spencer eyed the way she leaned closer to him.

If she was going to retaliate, whether agreeing or not, she stopped herself, the doors the church opening and an older gentleman walking through the doors, arms full of supplies she’d figured must have been part of the negotiation. He was patted down by an armed guard, searching for his own weapons do doubt, or a wire perhaps, as he handed the box over to another who took it without a thankyou.

“Rossi,” She heard Reid whisper beside her, and from the look he shot Emily and Spencer she gathered he was from the BAU, just as they’d expected. His eyes fell on her, softening as alot of Emily’s team did when they saw the two of them, as if they were picking her face apart for the tiny ways in which she resembled their Prentiss, or maybe it was the way she curled up in her seat, tired, hungry, on the defence. He just looked sorry for her.

“The children,” Cyrus said with no greeting, the air between them particularly frosty. He gestured towards the three of them, though Rossi had already clocked their tired faces staring at him with worry, “And our guests,”

She saw him trying not to react, guessing they had not let it slip to Cyrus he worked with the two undercover FBI agents, looking away from them as if the sight of their forlorn figures was enough to turn him sick.

Judging by the way Cyrus and he spoke quietly, tensely, Bugsy just hoped they had a plan to get them out of here soon as he soon left with a rigid handshake to the man keeping them hostage.

–

The three of them had been moved to a backroom a few hours later. Her stomach ached, the little sustenance Rossi had brought being distributed to the community before they’d been offered anything, which hadn’t left much. Reid and Emily had tried to get her to take some of their sharing, and despite how her insides cried out for it, she declined, stating they would be more use than she would; that they needed their strength more than her if they were going to get out of here alive.

The two of them hadn’t liked that answer judging by the frowns on their faces, but they sat in their seats with little fuss as they waited for things to quieten down after Cyrus’ staged “mass suicide” that had turned out to be nothign more than a test of loyalty and grape juice.

They had been sat in silence, aside from her foot bouncing on the floor impatiently, as she picked at the threads on her pants, the material uncomfortable on her skin after a day of wearing it. The door slammed open, Cyrus entering the room with nasty scowl. She didn’t know what had changed in the man in a matter of hours as he stormed over to them, two of his men behind him, loaded rifles in their arms.

This was not good.

“Which one of you is it?” He asked almost too calm for his demeanour, his eyes flicking between the three of them, where Emily attempted to brush her hair using her fingers, Reid played with the hem of his cardigan, an she sat beside him, resting against the cold stone wall behind them, her eyes narrowing at his furious expression.

The three of them remained silent, waiting for him to explain more, though clearly it was not the answer he was looking for as he threw his jacket open, revealing a loaded pistol tucked into his jeans. Drawing it into his dominant hand, her body tensed up, her back straightening like a rod as she looked up at him through fear.

“Which one of you is the FBI agent?” He repeated in that same calm tone, and her heart fell through her stomach.

She opened her mouth to say something in retaliation, though the way she saw his hand shaking with fury, she knew it was better to stay quiet in case her voice would be the final straw that made him trigger happy.

“Why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?” Spencer replied softly, and if he was panicking even a fraction amount she was he held it back, though his eyes flicked to Emily.

But it was a tell. The smallest movement alone was a tell he was lying, or perhaps it was the fact he’d answered a question with one of his own, distracting from the attention on them with the unsubs own answers. Maybe his quiet and calm showed how trained he was for a situation like this, showed he had gone up against bad guys before and won.

Whatever it was about him, it had Cyrus cocking the barrel of the gun straight at Spencer’s temple.

“God forgive me for what I must do,” The preacher murmured, his finger moments away from the trigger, when she lurched forward in her seat, hand shooting out to grab his wrist deathly tight.

“It’s me,”

She hadn’t realised she’d said it until the room went quiet. She thought for a moment it had come from Emily, Emily had always been the braver of the two of them, but it wasn’t until Cyrus’ unforgiving, dark gaze fell to her where she froze in her spot, that she understood her mouth had been the one moving.

Emily looked as if she was about to vomit, Spencer looked dumbfounded, but all she could do was stare back at Cyrus as if to will herself not to back down, knowing all three of them could fall victim if she gave them reason to doubt her; he could kill all three of them just to be sure the mystery agent was dealt with.

“It’s me,” She repeated, voice stronger this time, and she felt her chest relax just the tiniest amount as he turned the gun away from Spencer’s head.

He stared back at her for a moment, before the weapon smacked across her face in a sharp whip, her cheekbone crying out in a sting she knew was going to bruise.

He grabbed her hair at the nape of her neck, yanking her into a stand hard enough she yelped, despite not wanting to give him the satisfaction of the torture.

“Watch the other two,” Cyrus barked, dragging her out of the room as she squirmed under his hand, feeling it only tighten into an unforgiving pull.

She barely caught Emily bolting out of her seat to yell at the other men, all but fighting in their heavy grasp to follow wherever it was he was taking her, only for the door to be slammed shut behind them.

It was only then she realised how fucked she truly was.

–

She struggled to breath through the blood clotting in her nose. She didn’t think it was broken, not that she could check where her hands had been tied to the bedpost, tape over her mouth to stop her calling for help, her feet bound. She’d done nothing but give him hell as he’d been laying into her, keeping her cries and groans of pain silent as he’d kicked her in the ribs hard enough to know he’d damaged something at least.

She’d not made it easy for him to tie her down, worried about what they were planning next, she’d managed to headbutt him in the mouth, and the way he clutched at his jaw when he’d left gave her a sick satisfaction, though her temple now hurt more than she’d like to admit. But they’d only covered her mouth after she’d screamed obscenities at them for an hour or so, hoping to attract attention, hoping if the BAU were on their way, Emily and Reid would be able to find her fast before they could dispose of her.

Bugsy didn’t want to go like this. Tied up like cattle, gagged and beaten, the spirit kicked out of her as the dehydration gnawed at her limbs, making her too weak to even try wriggling out of the binds.

She felt herself dropping off to sleep, or maybe it was a concussion, he’d slammed her face into that mirror quite viciously, she wouldn’t be surprised if it had rattled her head around. Fighting with her eyelids to stay open, she jumped in her battered skin as the door unlatched, and she thrashed on the rickety bed to get away from the impending second beating.

But it wasn’t Cyrus. A fawn haired woman entered, her eyes falling on the girl on the bed, where blood trickled down her cheek, pouring from her nose like a thick liquor. Frowning, she was on high alert as the woman approached, a small, damp cloth in her hand.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you honey,” She hushed, approaching the young girl. Bugsy didn’t believe her for one second, her head pulling away from her as far as it could, her eyes wild and distrustful as the woman kneeled down beside the bed. “I’m Kathy,”

Bugsy debated jabbing an elbow in her face then and there, telling her in few words to stay as far away from her as possible, that the moment she was free she didn’t care who she hurt; she was getting out of here even if she had to crawl.

“That woman’s your sister right?” The blonde said, and the words stopped her heart for a moment, giving the woman the chance to run the cloth over the dribble of blood, “Emily,”

“Where is she?” She tried to ask, but the gag made it little more than a muffled cry, the woman’s eyes turning down in sadness. Pity. Bugsy hated every second of it.

“She’s okay, she’s worried about you though,” Kathy said, wiping under her nose, making her wince at the feeling, “Put up a hell of a fight after they took you away,”

She must have rolled her eyes, or perhaps it was just telling on her face that that didn’t surprise her as the older woman wiped over the superficial cut on her forehead she hadn’t realised was deep until the cloth went over it and she yawped like a dog having it’s tail pulled.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Kathy cooed, and she seemed genuinely guilty as she did. She tutted, shaking her head, fighting the urge to smooth the girls hair down the way she did when her own daughter was upset, “Emily said they’ll be coming for us at 3am, Cyrus has a mass suicide planned but they think they can stop him, you just have to hold on a little longer honey,”

“I want to see her,” Bugsy tried to talk again despite her mouth being covered, only for it to come out unintelligible once more. Huffing, she resigned herself to glaring at the ceiling, biting back frustrated tears. Kathy seemed to want to say something else, but thought better of it as the twenty something year old turned away from her to stare out the window, as if she were being dismissed.

Sighing, she rose from the bed and headed for the door, praying the FBI would get them out in time, before Cyrus put his plan into action.

–

Bugsy didn’t start panicking until it hit 2:50. She’d managed to kick the small analogue clock on the beside into working, the red numbers seeming to take a millenia to change over.

Yet it wasn’t until 3am neared, and the hallways remained silent, did she start to wonder if Kathy had been telling the truth at all. What if they had found out Emily and Reid were FBI and not her? What if they’d already been caught?

She really had wanted to see Emily, wanted to scream at the woman, who had meant well, to bring her sister to her or she would make every damn bible basher in this compound regret the day they were born. She felt helpless. She despised feeling helpless.

It was only when she heard shots rattling from outside did the cold fear set in. 2:52. Any minute now.

It was then an even worse thought struck her. What if they didn’t bother to come for her? Reid and Emily were safe downstairs, at least that was how Kathy had made it seem. If they got the women and children, the agents out first, she wondered if they would leave her for last since she wasn’t their top priority.

2:53 stared back at her.

At least Emily would make it. She was more important, had more going for her. She was supposed to be an only child anyway, mom had said it herself. Bugsy was the product of a failing marriage and a shared bottle of 1896 Bourbon that had been a wedding gift they’d never opened.

2:54.

She could have sworn she tore something the way her head snapped to the door as it swung open on its hinges, as if two large men had thrown their weight into it. But it wasn’t two men at all, just one frantic Derek Morgan with an FBI grade assault rifle.

The relief in his eyes was immediate, and he pulled a pocket knife from his boot, rushing over to where she lay, almost in shock, wondering if he was real at all, her heart pounding as she heard shouting in the corridor.

“I’m gonna get you out, kid,” The man promised, slinging his gun over his shoulder as he sliced through the rope on her ankles, her eyes trained on the 2:55 that watched them as if to laugh at them.

She whimpered, cursing behind her gag when she heard footsteps pounding through the hallway, and she was sure they were going to get caught. She thought then it would have been better if they’d forgotten about her, that at least Derek would have been safe, and he could have made sure the children got out safely, could have gotten Spencer and Emily medical.

Derek whirled on the doorway the same as she did as a tall figure all but skidded around the corner, his legs weak as hers felt, too long and not at all built for running. Clumsy almost.

Spencer. She should have known from the way he looked white as a sheet the moment he saw her it was him, but maybe she really did have concussion, as it seemed within moments he was fussing over her face, tearing a little too sharply at the tape over her mouth.

She thinks she groaned, or maybe cursed him out, as he started apologising immediately, his eyes a puppy kind of sad as she stared up at him, Derek handing him the knife to cut her arms free.

He was talking, but she couldn’t make a lot of it out, just that he was really sorry, it was 2:56 now. It was like her brain switched itself back on when she realised she was free, and the two of them were trying to haul her to her feet.

“Come on, princess, we gotta get out of here,” Derek said, as Spencer looped an arm around her waist, helping her limp across the room where her weak limbs did little to hold her upright, her ribs throbbing with every step, “We managed to stop Cyrus from detonating it manually, but the circuits are all still live,”

Morgan took the lead with the rifle, knowing some of Cyrus’ men had stayed to look for them, that they would go down with the building even though he’d already shot their leader the moment they’d breached the front door, because that was how loyal they were. They’d proven so already with the wine.

She kept her groans behind tight lips as they made it down the stairs, knowing Spencer didn’t mean to hold her bruised bones so tight, that he was just worried and her legs were doing the bare minimum to keep them both moving very fast. It wasn’t until they made it within a few feet of the door that they seemed to pick up the pace.

And she saw why.

Jesse, Cyrus’ child bride that had been the reason they’d come here in the first place was holding the detonator, her face tear streaked at the sight of her husband and prophet dead on the floor, the people responsible all but dragging a lame girl through the foyer and to the doors as if they hadn’t killed a handful of her flock tonight.

Bugsy saw the moment Jesse decided she wanted vengeance on them, but then, she guessed Spencer had already acted as he slung one of her arms over his shoulder, yanking her out the front door in a matter of seconds as Morgan pulled up the rear, and the two men shoved her down behind the small wall outside the church steps.

Bugsy expected the bang to be louder as the rubble flew over their heads, the floor shaking with the impact of the bomb detonating, and it was then she realised one of Derek’s large warm hands held her head into his shoulder, protecting her already rattled skull as best as he could. Spencer had done the same, throwing half his body over her back as he covered his ears, the two men tucking into the wall tightly and waiting for the dust to settle.

Spencer started coughing first, though his position over her never faltered, and she heard his chest wheezing, and knew they needed to move away from the thick smog that blew into their faces. Morgan released her ear, tipping her head back to check her over once more.

“Kid! You okay?” He fretted, noticing the way her nose had started bleeding again from all the movement; the way the bruise had already started blotching her cheek from where Cyrus pistol whipped her.

“I didn’t think you’d come for me,” Was all she could say, and Derek thought it was the saddest he’d ever heard her.

Reid was pulling her to her feet then, where he was still hovering over her, despite the fact the blast had already cleared, still sputtering and hocking up a lung, but it didn’t stop her from throwing herself at his middle, burying her face in his dusty sweater, not caring one bit if he jostled her aching ribs.

He was trying to be gentle with her as he squeezed her back, but she knew by the way he pressed his face into her hair he needed it just as badly.

“You saved my life,” He said, his long arms wrapping around her waist, hauling her whole body against his.

She laughed through a cough, their cheeks brushing past one another as she pulled him in tighter, thankful, relieved.

“You saved mine,”

And then she heard Emily. Emily, who sounded frantic and heartbroken as she called for her, her voice breaking as if she was crying, or atleast on the verge of, and as comforting as Spencer’s long arms around her cracked ribs were, she needed to see her sister was okay.

Ripping herself from his embrace immediately, she tore off after the sound, and there she was. Her older sister, who had always seemed immovable, like she wouldn’t so much as budge for a bucking horse, like water couldn’t drown her, or however many unsubs she’d faced could stop her from catching them. Her older sister, who looked like she’d taken a few punches of her own, judging by the blood on her blue blouse, that looked around the crowd of fleeing people with watery eyes and a shaking bottom lip.

“EMILY,” She yelled, her voice a bleat, a lamb calling for its mother, as she sprinted down the steps, whatever strength she had left carrying her to where Emily was rushing towards her, taking the stairs in threes, “EM-”

She crashed into her sister’s chest, and it was only then she started crying.

“I swear I’ll never give you trouble again, I’ll never talk back, I’ll never be a bitch ever again-” It was all a slew of mumbles against her sisters shirt, that was beginning to wet through at the rate the tears were coming, “I thought he was going to shoot you-”

“I was so scared, Bug, oh my god,” Emily murmured into her hair, squeezing the life out of her baby sister that sniffled and sobbed, “You don’t ever, ever do that to me again,”

Bugsy shook her head, clawing at Emily’s back as she pulled her closer, feeling Emily stroking her hair softly to calm her even in the slightest. They stayed like that until she managed to wrangle her sobs into little sniffs, the fire burning her eyes where it burned the rest of the church to ashes.

She stayed with Emily for a month after that.

+4. The one where you leave the altar.

She knew she was turning heads, walking down the street of a drizzly day in Virginia, hair wet and sticking to her face, makeup running down her cheeks, and the sodden, dove white wedding dress clasped in her hands as she paced towards the government building.

Whether the guards recognised her as the Ambassador’s daughter, or whether they really didn’t want to get into it with a bride looking like that on her day, she didn’t know, but they opened the door for her nonetheless, exchanging raised brows as a trail of wet followed her gown over the marble floors.

Heading up the desk, she flashed her driver's licence, which was enough to gain her a visitors pass she didn’t bother putting to use as she headed for the elevator, her ballet pumps squeaking under the body of the dress. Waiting for the doors to start closing when she finally let a few tears slip, burying her face into her cold, drenched palms, undoubtedly making the mess of mascara even worse.

Her heart gave a leap when she heard someone stop the doors, hoping she could get to her sister with little delay, and she quickly wiped her face with whatever was left of her pretty, dobby cloth shawl she had yanked on before she’d ran.

Whatever excuse she was about to give, whatever one liner she was about to drop to clear the awkwardness this agent was about to walk in on was sucked out of her when she saw Spencer staring at her, his briefcase in his hands he’d used to hold the doors, a wide eyed look plastered on his face as soon as he saw her state.

“Bugsy,” It was somewhere between surprise and sadness, jumping into the elevator before the metal could shut again, the button for the sixth floor already lit up in a ring of red, “What are you- I didn’t even know…”

“Spencer!” As seemed to be a common occurrence between them now, she threw two very cold arms over his shoulders, tugging him for a hug he quickly reciprocated, feeling like she needed it in the moment, “It was so awful, I just couldn’t all those people staring at me, and he- I just feel so-”

“Hey slow down,” He soothed, slipping his favourite cardigan off his body to put over her shoulders, ignoring the way he cringed as it quickly got sodden, “Let’s get you to Emily, I’m sure we can fix this,”

She nodded, though he could tell she was still shaken up, the elevator dinging to a stop on the fifth floor where an agent looked ready to step in, his face dropping when he saw the sight.

“Sorry, we’re full,” Spencer said, with little room for discussion, pressing the button to close the doors once more, and taking her by the elbow as she began shivering, “We’re gonna be just fine, you look beautiful,”

She laughed sadly with a roll of her eyes, the tears sticking to her cheeks. She knew she looked no better than a drowned rat, windswept and disgruntled, her dress full of muck from the street.

“Thankyou, Spencer,” She mumbled, the door sliding open to the sixth floor, where Penelope and her everlasting smile greeted her favourite boy genius.

She almost dropped her glitter pen when she saw the woman stood next to him looking like Dorothy dragged through the twister.

“Oh you poor little lamb, what has happened to you honey!” She all but cried, the cute little pom poms in her hair bouncing as she brought Bugsy closer, taking her hands tightly. “Your hands are ice! You’ll catch cold with that wet hair, and your gorgeous dress-”

“Garcia,” Spencer cut her off, though the woman didn’t seem to mind being manhandled into the kind grip, he guessed her state had her letting her guard down, “This is Bugsy, Emily’s little sister.”

Penelope gasped, her ponytails swishing around some more, the gems on her glasses as bright as the light in her eyes as she yanked the younger girl in for a tight hug.

“It is so nice to meet you! Emily talks about you all the time,” She said, pulling away and fumbling through her pockets for her fresh pink handkerchief she always carried around, mopping up the girl's eyeliner.

“She-she does?” Bugsy asked, sniffling, her body trembling as the AC beat down through the water ladened on her body.

“Of course she does, come on, let’s go get you coffee, I have a new machine in my office that makes the best espresso-” Garcia grabbed her hand as if they were kids in the playground, as if she’d known the girl years, which she sort of had. She had, of course, stalked every single one of Emily’s known relatives, even a distant cousin that never left Europe, and that had thrown up the quiet corner of the internet that Bugsy took up.

“I needed to talk to my sister, if that’s okay,” Bugsy braved enough to say, the swishing of her dress on the carpet making her wince, practically hearing the gallon of rain that soaked the expensive fabric.

“Ofcourse! How silly of me, I’ll bring it out right to you, little bug. You just go with Spencer,” Handing him the handkerchief, she set off towards her ‘bat cave’ in search of a hot beverage for the shivering woman, “Spencer, clean her makeup!”

He did as he was told, dabbing the water off her face as he led her to the BAU, where Emily and Morgan sat on their desks, chatting as they finished off lunch, Emily flicking through photos on her phone of baby Henry that JJ had sent over to her that morning from maternity leave.

“He’s just the sweetest little boy, he’s got the biggest blue eyes just like Jayj,” She said through a smile, “You know Will even said-”

“Holy shit-” Morgan cut her off, and she glanced at him, wondering about his use of a curse. Following his eyes over her shoulder, she swivelled in her position to see where Spencer led a very wet, shaken version of her little sister through the doors of the BAU, a snowy ball gown hanging off her, a veil clinging to her hair that had seen much better days.

“Holy shit,” She agreed, immediately darting for the girl that tugged Spencer’s cardigan tighter to her body, “Bugsy,”

“Emily, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t take up too much time- I just couldn’t do it- and I know mom’s always saying ‘Bring home a doctor, bring home a rich man,’ but I just couldn’t no matter how rich his daddy is, he wasn’t even too bad-” It all came out in a slur, not making too much sense, and she didn’t stop until Emily held up her hands, as if easing a wild dog.

“Woah, take it easy, kiddo,” Morgan hushed, as Emily brought a hand over her sister’s cheek, wiping away the last of the mascara, “What happened?”

Bugsy took a deep breath, looking between Emily and Derek, feeling the rain drip down her back.

“So a few weeks ago, Mom made me go to that stupid debutante ball,” She started, rolling her eyes already as Emily winced, knowing Elizabeth loved any excuse to dress her youngest up like a Barbie doll.

“I hated those things,” She confessed, shaking her head, “I thought you’d agreed you didn’t have to go to them anymore,”

“That was while I was in college, she said at least I could focus on my studies,” The girl explained, as Garcia tottered back through the office, a steaming cup of coffee in her beloved Bratz mug. Taking it from the chirpy woman, she took a deep gulp, not caring if it burned her mouth as she wished for the damn chill to go away, “Thankyou- But she made me go to this one on the condition she would pay off some of my college loans, and I was dumb enough to fall for her bribe,”

She huffed, taking another sip, her stomach warming with the hot liquid settling through her throat.

“You know how she is at these things, she knows everyone, and everyone knows her. I had four guys asking for my dance card within minutes of arriving there, it was like trying to walk through a dog pound wearing a meat suit, all the hand holding, trying to touch my waist- one guy even called me Madam Prentiss,” She grimaced, shuddering at the thought of it, “Madam? No one even calls mom that-”

“Focus,” Emily reminded gently, and she seemed to nod to herself, setting back on track.

“Right. And then he was there. Byron Hastings.” Bugsy said, wrapping her hands around the mug some more.

“Oh, isn’t he that super yummy bachelor that just inherited his fathers business?” Garcia jumped in, not noticing how it made her wince, “I hear his dad totally owns a bunch of shares in Facebook and as like just signed a deal with a new company that will change the future of computing-”

“Not now, baby girl,” Morgan said calmly, patting Penelope on her shoulder when she saw the bride’s crestfallen face.

“Right, sorry. Your turn, little bug,” She said, shaking her head and fiddling with her dozen rings.

“Yeah, that’s him.” She replied, running a slightly warmed finger over her eyelash where rain even collected there, “And you know, I wasn’t complaining, he was certainly easy on the eyes, and he smelled nice, like he just smelled rich, but man alive he was so boring,” She sighed, “I like computers as much as the next girl, no offence, but he didn’t once ask me what I was into or, and when I tried to bring up my degree he just patted me on the head and said ‘That’s nice’ like I was some child that had brought him a pretty colouring or something,”

“Ouch,” Emily grimaced, rubbing her arms over the cardigan to warm her up a little more, “And then?”

“And eventually, his dad and my mom cut a deal that we’d make a good pair. He said we could be married within the season, and suddenly everyone seemed up for it, and it was like no matter how hard I tried to dig my heels in, no one would listen, and mom just seemed so pleased with me-” She spluttered, sipping her drink to catch her breath, “I just let it happen and just thought, you know, maybe we could learn to like each other, or we could just be like mom and dad and separate in everything but paper,”

“It’s your life, who is she to tell you how you’re gonna live it,” Emily was outraged, the tip of her nose pink, her dark eyes stormy as her hands fell to her hips, huffing as if it had been her backed into a corner, “I can’t believe she would do this to you,”

“I was fine with it, really. It's not like its the fifteenth century when I’d be forced to consummate- anyway,” Bugsy rubbed her face, “I just got there, and mom put on my veil and told me I’d make a lovely Mrs Hastings, and just the sound of it- I couldn’t-”

“What on earth is going on?” A new voice cut through the BAU, and the group disbanded like kids caught trading answers to the homework. Rossi and Hotch stood by the unit chief’s office, brows furrowed at the wet bride and his team that tended to her as if she were a princess.

“Should we be expecting four wet bridesmaids too?” Rossi asked, the two of them making the steps down to the floor, approaching the guilty faced woman, noting Spencer’s cardigan wrapped over her shoulders.

“Nope, just me,” Her joke fell flat as she met the stony face of Aaron Hotchner, who looked thoroughly unimpressed, “Nice to see you again, Mr Hotchner, sir,”

His gaze slid to Emily, mouth opening to share whatever scathing remark bounced around his mouth, but the younger girl beat him to it, everyone’s eyebrows raising when she all but cut him off.

“This wasn’t on Emily, sir, I just showed up out of the blue, I can go- I’ll go- I just need to figure out where I’m staying since I left my purse at the church- don’t you worry I’ll be out of your hair, Aaro- sir,” Bugsy stammered, plonking the mug onto Emily’s desk, backing away to the doors of the office, clutching her visitor pass tight in her fist.

Maybe it was because she looked so hopeless, or maybe it was the way his team shot him the same look of horror he would be so regimental, or maybe even it was the fact part of her reminded him of Sean, only his brother wouldn’t have had the courtesy to apologise for his mess.

Sighing, he gestured her to come back, “Wait,” He said her name, her government name because the other one didn’t fit right in his mouth, “Reid, get her some clothes out your go bag. Emily, tell your mother she’s safe and will be staying in Quantico until you can figure something out,”

Heaving a sigh of relief, she launched her still sodden form at the chief, wrapping him in a stiff hug, bolder than anyone else on the team had ever dared to be.

“I swear to god, Mr Hotchner, the next letter you're getting will be the best one yet,” She mumbled into his hard chest, and he fought off the way the corners of his lips twitched upwards. Patting her on the back gently, he ignored the way his dress shirt wet through.

–

let me know what you think! mAYBE A FEW MORE PARTS COMING UP ??

Edit: This is a part one of 3 or 4 I have planned, thankyou so much for all the love on this I did not expect the reaction 🥺🥺

SECOND EDIT: part two and three are out now!! Have a look at the top where it says ‘next chpt and it’s there bbys!!

THIRD EDIT: we are now balls deep into this universe here's th link for the masterlist

#spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #Prentiss #prentiss!Reader #criminal minds fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #mathew grey gubler #Matthew grey gubler x reader

4K notes · View notes

mononijikayu · 12 days

Text

a day in a life — ryomen sukuna.

You set Yuji down, and he immediately takes your hand in his tiny one, his other hand reaching out to grab Sukuna's sleeve, tugging at him. "Uncle Sukuna, come on!" Sukuna grunts, letting Yuji pull him along, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctant affection. “Alright, alright, brat….I’m coming.” he says, trying to sound grumpy but failing spectacularly. You smile at the sight of them together and take Sukuna's other hand. "Looks like we're both in for an adventure, aren’t you?" you whisper.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: safe for work (sfw), fluff, family, slice of life, family dynamic, light hearted, domestic, romance, protectiveness, crying, hugging, banter, humour, physical touch, happy ending, hurt/comfort, depictions of family dynamic, depiction of getting lost, depiction of anxiety, depiction of slice of life, menction of amnesia, boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji, i love you nephew!yuji;

WORD COUNT: 6.4k words

NOTE: the people have spoken and ryomen sukuna won my poll (again) so this is a special treat for yall!!! this is the aftermath of amnesia and reader and sukuna got back together. this is maybe a year or so to them getting back together. yuji loves his auntie!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy it. i had a lovely time writing it because this is what we deserved from gege!!! i love you all!!! thank you for your continued love <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

IT WAS YOUR DAY OFF. And that was something you and Sukuna had agreed about in the early dawn of your relationship together. You wanted to get to know this man you fell in love with, and many years had passed since you both even got together after your amnesia. One of those days was today. With no work obligations today and Sukuna taking a break from managing his gym, the two of you had indulged in a much-needed cozy day.

A lot of things would change. So, Ryomen Sukuna stepped up to the plate and took some time off to just have days to cherish your time together.

Everything had been blissfully quiet, a rarity for both you and Sukuna. Like always on these days, you’d spent the morning wrapped in a warm blanket together, watching a movie you both had half-paid attention to, more engrossed in each other’s company than the plot unfolding on screen.

Ryomen Sukuna had his arm draped around your shoulders, his fingers lazily drawing patterns against your skin. Your boyfriend doesn’t sleep that much, but when he’s in his lazy days with you — he makes an effort to rest. You worry a lot for him, after all. And he doesn’t want to add more to those worries. Begrudgingly he does it, but it makes you happy.

He expected to spend the day with you like this all day. And Sukuna was happy with that. He likes having time with you like this, just embracing each other’s warmth and talking over the bad television shows and ordering in if you don’t feel like getting up and making a meal together.

Life was great. This was his day in a life. Sukuna had dreamed of it for years since you parted. And now that you’re together again, it just all fell into place. Nothing could be better than this. And he adores it.

But then Sukuna's phone rang, and you watched as his expression shifted from contentment to annoyance. He sighed, glancing at the caller ID — his twin brother, Itadori Jin. You looked at him curiously as he sighed.

Reluctantly, Sukuna answered, his voice gruff. "What’s up?"

You could only hear Jin’s voice faintly on the other end, speaking quickly. Sukuna’s face darkened as Jin explained the situation — some emergency at work that demanded his immediate attention.

Because of this, Kaori, Jin's wife, would have to go and pick up their eldest son Choso alone for vacation. They didn’t wanna agitate with a long drive, since Yuji is still a little boy. And with no one else to watch over their young son, Itadori Jin was left with only one option.

Ryomen Sukuna pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated. You could almost hear his internal mantra: ‘Don’t say it, don’t say it…’

But Jin, with his usual charm and desperation, finally got to the point. “Look, can you just babysit Yuji for a couple of days until we’re back? We don’t have anyone else.”

Sukuna opened his mouth, ready to protest, but before he could even get a word out, you grinned and cut in. "Oh, we'd love to! Right, Sukuna?"

Sukuna shot you a glare that was more pout than anything else. He looked betrayed, as if you had just handed him the world’s most inconvenient challenge. You couldn't help but bit your lip, trying to stop your laughter. He's always like this when it comes to his nephew. He likes to pretend that he doesn't like him and yet, he does. A lot.

For a moment, you think he was almost like a kitten who found his owner’s antics unpleasant. You felt the tension in his arm, the muscles flexing in silent rebellion. He’d been so ready to complain, to give a flat ‘no’ but your enthusiasm left him no room to argue.

Jin laughed on the other end. “Great! Thank you, sister in law! We’ll drop him off in an hour.”

As the call ended, Sukuna tossed his phone onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, leaning his head back and closing his eyes as if he’d just endured a great ordeal. “Really?” he muttered, a sulky undertone in his voice. "You had to say yes?"

You laughed softly and nudged him with your elbow. "Oh, come on, baby. It'll be fun! Besides, Yuji is adorable. Don't you think so?"

Sukuna opened one eye, giving you a side-eyed glance. "He’s a menace, that brat." he grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "A little gremlin in disguise."

You leaned closer, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. "And I think you secretly like him." you teased.

He snorted, though his arm tightened around you instinctively. "Yeah, well, I like my peace and quiet more. ‘specially since I get my fill of you."

You blushed at his words. For a moment, you could feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, steady and strong, and you knew he would complain, sulk, and groan about this for the next hour.

But you also knew, without a doubt, that he’d be the one sneaking Yuji cookies before dinner, making silly faces just to hear him giggle, and pretending to be indifferent even as he kept a protective eye on the kid. After all, he loved his little nephew. Even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

“Fine." Sukuna grumbled finally, his voice resigned but affectionate. "But don’t blame me if he decides to climb the walls or something.”

You smiled, planting a soft kiss on his jaw. "Deal."

Sukuna’s sigh was heavy, dramatic, but there was no mistaking the way he leaned into your touch, accepting his fate with a grumpy fondness that only made you love him more.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

day one

IN NO TIME, YOU WERE ALREADY PARKING. You watched as your boyfriend carefully looked at the space as he parks with precision. You liked being in the Itadori household. Somehow, you just felt the warmth of bing alive here. They treated you like family even when you and Sukuna haven't even married. And today was no different.

When you and Sukuna arrive at Jin and Kaori’s house, you could just feel how the sun shines brightly as you pull up to the driveway. Itadori Yuji is already waiting outside, a tiny bundle of energy with his little red backpack on, his face lighting up the moment he sees you. You barely have time to get out of the car before Yuji bolts over, throwing himself at you with an enthusiastic hug that nearly knocks you back.

“Auntie!” he squeals, wrapping his small arms around your legs.

Your heart melts instantly. "Hey, Yuji!" you greet him, scooping him up effortlessly and spinning him around in a playful circle. "I’ve missed you, little guy!"

Yuji giggles, clutching onto you tighter, his face buried in your shoulder. Over your shoulder, you see Sukuna standing by the car, arms crossed, his mouth set in a grumpy line. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel the simmering annoyance rolling off him in waves.

You shoot him a playful smile. "Look, baby!" you tease. "He's already so attached!"

Sukuna rolls his eyes, but there’s no real malice in his expression. “Yeah, yeah.” he grumbles, though his lips twitch like he’s trying to hold back a smile. “Don't spoil him too much.”

You grin and bounce Yuji in your arms, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "How could I not? He's too cute. So precious too!”

Yuji beams up at you, clearly enjoying the attention. "Auntie, can we go to the playground?" he asks excitedly, his eyes wide and hopeful.

You look at him, amused. "Of course, we can, buddy! What do you want to do at the playground?"

Yuji's face lights up even more, if that was possible. "I wanna see my best friends! Nobara and Megumi! They’ll be there like usual!" he declares with all the seriousness a toddler can muster.

Sukuna lets out a low groan from behind you. “Great.” he mutters sarcastically. “Not only do we have to babysit the brat, but now we’re running a daycare service.”

You glance over at him with a laugh. "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, it'll be nice to meet his little friends."

Sukuna sighs dramatically, but you catch the way his gaze softens just a fraction when he looks at Yuji. You know he would never admit it, but he has a soft spot for his nephew, even if he won’t say it out loud.

You set Yuji down, and he immediately takes your hand in his tiny one, his other hand reaching out to grab Sukuna's sleeve, tugging at him. "Uncle Sukuna, come on!"

Sukuna grunts, letting Yuji pull him along, his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and reluctant affection. “Alright, alright, brat….I’m coming.” he says, trying to sound grumpy but failing spectacularly.

You smile at the sight of them together and take Sukuna's other hand. "Looks like we're both in for an adventure, aren’t you?" you whisper.

Sukuna shoots you a look, but the corner of his mouth quirks up just slightly. "Yeah, sure. An adventure." he mutters, but you see the way his grip tightens around your hand.

Yuji swings between you two, his laughter bright and infectious as you make your way to the playground, where a day full of play, giggles, and unexpected joy awaits. You can’t help but think that he’s the purest thing in life.

The neighborhood playground is a colorful blur of swings, slides, and a few scattered benches where parents and caregivers chat while keeping an eye on their kids. You could pick up the sound of laughter filling the air from afar, and Yuji’s excitement is palpable as he practically vibrates with energy between you and Sukuna. He seems to love this place.

“Where are they?” Yuji asks, his head swiveling in every direction with tenderness, searching for his friends. “Where’s Nobara? Where’s Megumi?”

You crouch down to his level, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon, Yuji. Do you want to try the swings while we wait?”

Yuji nods eagerly. “Yes! Push me, Auntie!” He drags you over to the swings, his little legs moving as fast as they can. Sukuna trails behind, hands shoved into his pockets, doing his best to appear indifferent. But you catch him watching Yuji with a faint smile on his face when he thinks you aren’t looking.

You carefully lift Yuji into the swing, securing him before giving him a gentle push. Soon enough, his little fits of laughter fills the air, bright and pure, as he kicks his legs back and forth, asking for “Higher, higher!”

Sukuna leans against the swing set's metal frame, observing the scene with a mix of amusement and begrudging fondness. "Careful, babe." he warns, though his tone lacks any real bite. "Don't launch him into orbit."

You laugh softly. "Come on, he's having fun!" You give Yuji another push, his giggles ringing out as he soars through the air. "See, Sukuna? This is what a good day looks like."

Sukuna grunts, but there’s no hiding the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Sure, sure. I’ll take your word for it.”

Just then, a small voice calls out from behind you, full of excitement. “Yuji!”

You turn to see a little girl with a red bow in her hair running over, a boy with dark, serious eyes following at a more measured pace. Yuji’s face lights up even brighter. “Nobara! Megumi!” he shouts, waving his arms enthusiastically.

Nobara reaches you first, hands on her hips and a bright grin on her face. “Hey, Yuji! Hi!” She waves up at you, her bright grin was confident and charming. "Are you Yuji's auntie?"

You nod, charmed by her boldness. "I am! It's nice to meet you, Nobara. And you must be Megumi?" you say, looking over at the quiet boy who stands just a bit behind Nobara.

Megumi nods, his expression serious. “Hi.” he says quietly, his gaze shifting between you and Sukuna, assessing. He seemed like a weary kid, but you don’t blame him.

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “You two Yuji’s bodyguards or something?” he teases.

Nobara puffs out her chest, clearly taking it as an offense. “Huh?! No we’re not! We’re his best friends!” she declares proudly. Megumi gives a small nod as he hides that almost imperceptible smile at her confidence.

“Tch, brat—”

“That’s great!” You grinned at her. “Thank you for taking care of Yuji!”

Yuji hops off the swing, rushing over to grab his friends’ hands. “Let’s play!” he shouts, already pulling them toward the jungle gym.

You stand beside Sukuna, watching them run off with a fond smile. “See? Isn’t this nice?”

Sukuna grunts, though there’s no mistaking the soft expression on his face as he watches Yuji. “Yeah, yeah… maybe.” he mutters. “As long as nobody starts crying. Or falling and then crying.”

You laugh and nudge him playfully with your elbow. “Just admit it, you’re having a good time.”

He finally relents, sighing dramatically. “Fine, maybe it’s not that bad.” He turns his head slightly to look at you, a glint of affection in his eyes. “But only because you’re here.”

You feel a warm flutter in your chest at his words and lean closer, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “That’s the spirit, baby.” you tease softly.

As you both stand there, watching Yuji play with his friends, you feel a sense of contentment settle over you. It’s simple, this moment, but somehow perfect in its simplicity — surrounded by laughter, sun, and Sukuna’s reluctant but undeniable fondness for his nephew. And you were enjoying it all. Taking it all as it is. It was the perfect day.

Suddenly, Yuji runs back over, out of breath but beaming. “Auntie, Uncle! Can you come play too?” he asks, tugging at both of your hands with his small ones.

You glance at Sukuna, who looks momentarily caught off guard. But then, with a sigh and a half-smile, he bends down, ruffling Yuji's hair. “Alright, brat.” he says, his voice mock-gruff. “What do you want us to do?”

Yuji's eyes shine with excitement. "You can be the monsters, and we'll be the heroes!"

Sukuna raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm a monster now?" he grumbles, but you can tell he's already warming up to the idea.

You laugh, taking Yuji’s hand. “Okay, monsters it is. But you better run fast, heroes!”

With that, Yuji squeals in delight, dragging his friends back to the jungle gym as you and Sukuna pretend to chase after them. Sukuna might act like he’s reluctant, but you catch the way he’s smiling, truly smiling, and your heart feels impossibly full.

For now, there’s no place else you’d rather be. And you meant it.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

day two

THE EXHAUSTION FROM YESTERDAY DIDN’T PREVENT YUJI FROM WANTING TO ENJOY TODAY. When the next day dawns with bright and clear skies, you could only think that it was the perfect weather for a trip to the zoo. Itadori Yuji was up early, bouncing with excitement, and his enthusiasm quickly became infectious.

Even your boyfriend, who had initially grumbled about being dragged to a “smelly zoo” eventually caved in to his nephew Yuji’s pleas — especially after you flashed him a knowing smile and those eyes, reminding him how much this meant to his nephew. He couldn't deny you, no matter how much he tried. He grumbled loudly about it before finally saying yes. But you knew just as much that he was enjoying himself.

You haven’t been in a zoo in a very long time, that much you could be honest about. Sukuna doesn’t seem to care for it either growing up. But you think that this was going to be great for Yuji. He adored animals. Even just seeing them on the television makes him happy and curious. It was his first time going and seeing animals like this, up close. And you just know that it would be such a great time for him.

As soon as you arrive, Yuji is practically vibrating with energy. He tugs at your hand and points at the map, his little face glowing with excitement. “Auntie, Uncle, can we see the lions first? And then the penguins! Oh, and the monkeys too!” he babbles, his words tumbling over each other in his eagerness.

You nod with a smile. “Of course, Yuji. We have all day to see everything!”

Sukuna shakes his head, hiding a grin. “Just try not to run off, brat.” he warns, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “We don’t want to be chasing after you like yesterday at the playground.”

Yuji beams up at him. “Okay, Uncle Sukuna! I’ll stay with you!”

You spend the morning moving from one exhibit to another, enjoying the wonder in Yuji’s eyes as he watches the animals with wide-eyed fascination. He claps excitedly at the lions, laughs at the playful monkeys, and insists on mimicking the penguins’ waddles, much to your amusement and Sukuna’s reluctant chuckles.

You take plenty of photos, capturing the joy on Yuji’s face and even getting a rare shot of Sukuna smiling genuinely, one arm slung casually around your shoulders as he watches Yuji with a fond, if exasperated, expression. You think that you’ll have fun looking through it and printing it out for the photo albums. You were sure Kaori and Jin would love to have some copies too.

By lunchtime, you settle down at a picnic table near the petting zoo area. You hand Yuji a juice box, and he takes it eagerly, swinging his legs and chattering non-stop about the animals he’s seen and what he wants to see next. You all carefully eat your lunches and just let the food settle down for a little while. Sukuna sat beside you, drinking a big glass of cola to try and cool off the heat.

“Auntie, Uncle, can we see the elephants next?” Yuji asks between sips, his face flushed with excitement.

You nod. “Absolutely. After we finish lunch, we’ll head over there.”

“That's on the other side of the zoo.” Sukuna points out to you.

You looked at your boyfriend with a small smile. “And guess what? We’re still going!”

Yuji grins and quickly finishes his juice, already standing up and tugging at your arm. “Okay, let’s go now!”

You laugh softly, but Sukuna gently pulls him back to the table. “Hey, slow down, kid. Let us finish our food first.”

Yuji pouts for a moment but eventually nods, bouncing on his toes while he waits. A few moments pass, and you’re almost done with your meal when a family nearby starts laughing loudly, drawing Yuji’s attention. Curious, he takes a few steps toward them, his bright almond eyes wide with interest.

“Yuji, stay close to us.” you remind him, keeping an eye on him as he moves closer to see what’s happening.

But as you turn to answer a question from Sukuna, just for a second, when you look back, Yuji is gone. Your heart drops to your stomach as your eyes open widely, your mouth shaking as you try to speak. You suddenly couldn’t speak and fright started to get to you.

“Yuji?” you call out, your voice a bit louder now, scanning the area. Panic begins to creep into your chest.

Your boyfriend Sukuna immediately stands up, his expression shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant. You can tell by the look in his eyes. He was just as panicked.

“Where’d he go?” he asks, his voice tight with concern.

You feel a knot forming in your stomach as you look around frantically. “He was just here, babe…i just….”

Sukuna curses under his breath, his eyes scanning the crowded area with growing urgency. “Yuji!” he calls out, louder this time, his voice cutting through the chatter of the crowd.

You quickly weave through the nearby groups of people, calling Yuji's name, your heart racing. You could feel the knot of guilt in you. Your mind started to race with many thoughts. You could have looked after him better, you could have been more vigilant. You were the adult. How could you let this happen? Sukuna is right behind you, his hand protectively on your back as you search, his expression darkening with worry.

“He couldn't have gone far, babe.” you say, trying to keep the panic from your voice. “He’s probably just wandered off… right?”

Sukuna clenches his jaw, a determined look crossing his face. “Yeah, but we need to find him now.” he says firmly.

You both decided to split up, checking around the petting zoo and nearby exhibits. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and a dozen scenarios flash through your mind. But you push them aside, focusing on finding Yuji.

Minutes feel like hours as you weave through the crowds, your desperate voice growing hoarse from calling his name. Just as your heart is about to leap into full-blown panic, you hear a familiar, small voice.

“Auntie?”

You turn sharply and spot Itadori Yuji standing a few feet away, holding the hand of a zookeeper. Relief floods over you as you rush over, immediately dropping to your knees and wrapping your arms around him. You could feel like you were going to burst into tears just holding him like this. You were relieved. He was here. He was safe. He’s okay. You thank the gods above.

“Yuji! Thank goodness, you’re okay!” you say, your voice trembling with relief.

Yuji looks up at you with wide eyes, his lower lip trembling. “I’m sorry, Auntie. I just wanted to see the elephants…”

You hug him tighter, feeling your boyfriend’s presence beside you as he drops down to Yuji’s level, his expression stern but his eyes soft. He must have seen you both and ran over here as quickly as he could. He purses his lips int a tight line as he observed his nephew for injuries or bruises and even cuts.

“Brat, you scared us.” Sukuna says, ruffling Yuji’s hair more gently this time. “You have to stay close, got it? Don’t do that again.”

Yuji nods, tears brimming in his bright big eyes. “I’m sorry, Uncle Sukuna… I didn’t mean to…”

Sukuna’s expression softens completely, and he sighs, pulling Yuji into a hug. “Yeah, yeah, it’s okay, brat.” he mutters, his voice a little rough. “‘s not your fault, okay? Just….hold my hand next time.”

Yuji nods against his shoulder, and you reach over, brushing a tear from his cheek. “Come on, let’s go see those elephants, hmm? Together this time,” you say softly.

Yuji sniffles but nods, and you stand up, taking his hand. Sukuna rises too, keeping a protective arm around you both. “Yeah, together.” he agrees, his tone firm but warm.

You thank the zookeeper and solemnly leave, with Sukuna carrying Yuji in his arms still trying to comfort him. Your boyfriend pat his nephew’s back, stroking it over and over to comfort him. It broke your heart that Yuji was upset. But he was here. And he’ll be okay. That’s all that mattered to you. You knew just as much that Sukuna was the same.

The three of you head toward the elephant exhibit, Yuji keeps close between the two of you, his little hand gripping yours tightly, and Sukuna’s hand resting on his shoulder. Despite the scare, you feel a sense of calm wash over you, knowing that as long as you’re all together, everything will be alright.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

day three

THE SLEEP WAS ROUGH LAST NIGHT. You didn’t want to let go of Yuji in your sleep. He had ended up not wanting to leave your bed last night and slept with you and Sukuna in your bedroom. He still was anxious from being lost, you can’t help but think. And you don’t really blame him for it. Sukuna didn’t utter a word and just let it be, wrapping the covers on your bodies and went to close the night light.

Come morning, you wake up to the sound of muffled clinking and clattering coming from the kitchen. You couldn’t help but blink your eyes open, the early light filtering through the curtains. Beside you, Sukuna stirs, frowning slightly at the noise.

“What’s that racket?” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes.

You sit up, listening closely. The noise continues — the unmistakable sound of plates and silverware being moved around, a chair being dragged across the floor. You glance at Sukuna, a smile tugging at your lips. “Sounds like our little guest is up to something.”

Sukuna narrows his eyes suspiciously. “That brat better not be doing anything dangerous in there.” he mutters, though there’s no real heat in his voice.

You both get out of bed and quietly make your way to the kitchen, peeking around the corner. There, in the middle of the kitchen, stands Yuji, a determined expression on his face as he tries to balance on a chair he's pushed against the counter.

His small hands are busy spreading a thick, uneven layer of butter on a piece of bread, followed by an enthusiastic dollop of jam. Nearby, a bowl of cereal overflows with milk, and a few spilled Cheerios are scattered across the counter.

Yuji mutters to himself under his breath, clearly focused on his task. “Okay, okay… just a little more…” He tips the milk carton a bit too far, and more milk splashes onto the counter. He gasps softly but quickly goes back to his sandwich-making, a look of concentration on his face.

You can’t help but smile, and Sukuna, despite his earlier grumbling, looks a bit amused too. “What’s he doing?” Sukuna whispers, leaning closer to you.

“I think… he’s making us breakfast, babe.” you whisper back, feeling your heart melt a little.

Before you can say anything, Yuji notices you both standing there. His eyes widen in surprise, but then he beams, his face lighting up with pride.

“Auntie! Uncle Sukuna!” he exclaims. “Good morning! I… I made you breakfast!” He gestures to the chaotic spread on the counter, looking so proud of himself that you can’t help but feel a swell of affection.

You step forward, giving him a warm smile. “Wow, Yuji! This looks… delicious!” you say, trying to sound as genuine as possible while suppressing a laugh at the mess.

Sukuna crosses his arms, one eyebrow raised, but there’s a soft look in his eyes. “Yeah, brat, you really outdid yourself.” he says with a small grin. “What’s the occasion?”

Yuji’s smile falters a little, and he looks down at his feet, shuffling nervously. “I… I wanted to say sorry for yesterday.” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean to make you worry… So I wanted to make you a special breakfast to make up for it.”

Your heart melts at his sincerity. You crouch down to his level and pull him into a gentle hug. “Oh, Yuji, you don’t have to do that for us.” you say softly. “We know you didn’t mean to worry us. We’re just happy you’re safe.”

Yuji hugs you back tightly, burying his face in your shoulder for a moment. “But I wanted to, Auntie!” he insists. “Because I love you and Uncle Sukuna… and I wanted to make you smile.”

Sukuna’s expression softens further, and he crouches down next to you, ruffling Yuji’s hair. “Hey, brat, you already made us feel relieved.” he says gruffly, though his voice is unusually gentle. “But I guess we should at least taste this fine meal you’ve prepared, huh?”

Yuji’s face lights up again, and he nods eagerly. “Yes! I made a sandwich and cereal! It’s my favorite!”

You and Sukuna exchange a glance, amused but touched by Yuji’s earnestness. You take a bite of the butter-and-jam sandwich, doing your best to keep a straight face as the unevenly spread butter melts on your tongue alongside a very generous layer of sweet jam.

“It’s… unique.” you say, giving Yuji a big smile. “Thank you, Yuji.”

Sukuna follows suit, picking up the cereal bowl and taking a careful sip of the overly milky concoction. “Mmm.” he says with a nod, holding back a chuckle. “Not bad, brat. Not bad at all.”

Yuji beams, clearly delighted by your reactions. “Yay! I’m glad you like it!” He claps his hands, his earlier nerves completely gone now.

You reach over and give Yuji another hug. “Thank you for being so thoughtful, Yuji.” you say warmly. “You’ve definitely made our morning.”

Sukuna nods, wrapping an arm around Yuji’s shoulders. “Yeah, brat….you’re alright.” he says, a rare softness in his tone. “But next time, let’s make breakfast together, okay? Might save a little bit of the kitchen from total destruction.”

Yuji giggles, nodding eagerly. “Okay, Uncle Sukuna! Next time, we’ll make pancakes!”

You smile, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as you look at the two of them. Despite the mess, despite the unexpectedness of it all, you can’t think of a better way to start the day.

Later that morning, as you and Sukuna help Yuji clean up the kitchen — which now looks like it’s survived a mini tornado — your phone rings. You glance at the screen and see it’s Jin calling. You exchange a quick look with Sukuna, who’s wiping a smear of jam off the counter, and answer the call.

“Hey, Jin!” you greet him warmly, keeping an eye on Yuji, who is carefully stacking dishes in the sink. “How’s everything going?”

Jin’s voice comes through, sounding a bit tired but cheerful. “Hey! We’re wrapping up at work sooner than we thought. Kaori’s gonna arrive in a day or two. I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way back home. I should be there in a few hours.”

You feel a pang of mixed emotions — relief that Jin and Kaori are safe and on their way back, but also a little sadness knowing this means Yuji’s stay with you is coming to an end. “That’s great news, Jin.” you say, glancing at Yuji. “We’ve had such a fun time with Yuji, he’s been wonderful.”

Jin laughs. “I’m glad to hear that! I hope he wasn't too much trouble for you guys.”

Sukuna snorts softly, overhearing the conversation. “Trouble? That’s an understatement.” he mutters, though there’s a fondness in his voice that he doesn’t bother hiding.

You grin at Sukuna’s comment before turning your attention back to Jin. “No trouble at all.” you assure him. “Yuji’s been an absolute sweetheart.”

Jin sighs, a smile evident in his tone. “Thanks for looking after him. We’ll come to pick him up as soon as we get back.”

You hang up the phone and turn to Yuji, who’s watching you with wide, curious eyes. He tilts his head slightly. “Was that Daddy?” he asks, his little voice hopeful.

You nod, smiling gently. “Yes, Yuji. Your dad said he and your mom are on their way back. They’ll be here to pick you up soon.”

Yuji’s face falls, and his shoulders slump. “But… but I don’t wanna go home yet.” he murmurs, his lower lip jutting out in a pout. “I’m having so much fun with you and Uncle Sukuna…”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looks down at his nephew. “Oh, come on, brat.” he says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. “You miss your parents, don’t you?”

Yuji frowns and shakes his head, his small hands clenching the hem of his shirt. “But I wanna stay here longer! We didn’t even make cookies yet!” he protests, looking between you and Sukuna with pleading eyes.

You kneel down to his level, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Yuji, we’ve had so much fun with you, and we’re going to miss you too.” you say softly. “But your mom and dad miss you too, and they can’t wait to see you.”

Yuji’s eyes welled up with tears, and he looked down, his voice barely a whisper. “I know… but I like being here… with you two.”

Sukuna sighs, his expression softening. He crouches down beside you, his hand resting on Yuji’s shoulder. “Hey, brat.” he says, his tone gentler now, “Just because you’re going home doesn’t mean we won’t see you again. We’ll have more fun days together, I promise.”

Yuji sniffles, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “Really?”

“Really.” Sukuna confirms, ruffling his hair. “And next time, we’ll definitely make those cookies, huh? Maybe even chocolate chip ones. What do you say?”

Yuji’s face brightens a little, and he nods, his tears already forgotten at the mention of chocolate chip cookies. “Okay… but can we still go to the park one last time before I go home?”

You exchange a glance with Sukuna, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “Alright, one last trip to the park.” he concedes with a smirk. “But only because you already made us breakfast.”

Yuji grins, and you can’t help but smile too, your heart feeling full. “Let’s get ready, then.” you say, standing up and taking Yuji’s hand. “One more adventure before your parents come to get you.”

Yuji cheers, jumping up and down excitedly. “Yay! Let’s go!” he exclaims, all traces of sadness gone.

As you head out the door, you feel Sukuna’s hand slip into yours, giving it a light squeeze. “You’re good with him, you know? Thank you for that, babe.” he murmurs, a rare softness in his voice.

You smile up at him. “Oh, you don’t have to thank me. You’re just as good with taking care of him, you know? Love that about you, babe.” you reply.

Sukuna couldn’t help but snorts but doesn’t disagree, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he leads the way, Yuji’s laughter filling the air. And for now, that’s all that matters.

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

epilogue

Itadori Choso finally arrives home from college after a long drive. He was eager to spend some time with his little brother, Yuji. Being far gone in college, all he thinks about is when he’d get to play with his little brother. And he can’t wait. He steps into the house, dropping his bags by the door with a loud thud, and immediately calls out in front of his mother.

“Yuji! I’m back!”

Yuji, who has been doodling in the living room, perks up and runs over to greet him. “Big brother!” he shouts, throwing his arms around his older brother in a big hug. But no sooner has he hugged Choso than he starts babbling excitedly. “Guess what! I had the best time ever with Uncle Sukuna and Auntie!”

Choso’s smile wavers slightly, and he looks down at Yuji with a puzzled expression. “Oh, did you?” he asks, his tone laced with a bit of unease. “What did you do with them?”

Yuji’s eyes light up as he launches into a detailed recount of every moment spent with you and Sukuna, from the trip to the zoo to making breakfast and playing at the park. “And then Uncle Sukuna said we’ll make chocolate chip cookies next time! And Auntie said we could go to the beach too!”

Choso’s smile turns into a slightly forced grin as he listens, nodding along but feeling a twinge of jealousy in his chest. “Wow, sounds like you had… a lot of fun.” he says, trying to keep his voice light. “But hey, I’m back now, so we can have fun too, right? We can do all the things we used to do!”

Yuji’s face scrunches up in thought for a moment before he shrugs. “I guess…” he says, a bit too nonchalantly for Choso’s liking. “But Uncle Sukuna is really funny, and Auntie gives the best hugs. And we were going to make pancakes!”

Choso’s eye twitches slightly. “I can make cookies too, you know,” he says, sounding just a tad defensive. “I’ve been making them for you since forever, Yuji.”

Yuji nods, but he looks unconvinced. “Yeah, but… Uncle Sukuna flips them really high in the air. And Auntie says we can put as many chocolate chips as we want!”

Choso crosses his arms, his brow furrowing. “Oh, really?” he mutters. “Well, I bet Uncle Sukuna can’t make cookies shaped like dinosaurs like I can.” He puffs out his chest a little, feeling smug.

Yuji’s eyes widen for a second, but then he shrugs again. “Maybe!” he admits. “But Uncle Sukuna and Auntie took me to the zoo and the park, and we saw a real dinosaur—uh, I mean, a lizard that looked like one!”

Choso’s eyebrow twitches again, and he huffs. “Yeah, well, that’s cool and all, but I’m way cooler than Uncle Sukuna, right?” he says, trying to sound casual, but his voice pitches a little higher than usual.

Yuji tilts his head, considering this for a long, exaggerated moment. “Umm… I dunno…” he finally says, looking genuinely torn. “You’re both cool. But Uncle Sukuna can lift me with one arm! Can you do that?”

Choso frowns. “Of course, I can! I’m your big brother!” He scoops Yuji up in a single swift motion, lifting him high into the air. “See? I’m strong too!”

Yuji giggles, kicking his legs. “Okay, okay! You’re strong too, Choso!”

Choso sets him down with a triumphant grin, feeling like he’s finally won this little contest. “See? You don’t need Uncle Sukuna. You’ve got me.”

But then, just as Choso thinks he’s secured his place as Yuji’s favorite, you and Sukuna walk through the front door, having stopped by to return a forgotten toy. Yuji’s face lights up like a thousand-watt bulb. “Auntie! Uncle Sukuna!” he squeals, running over to you both.

Choso watches, deflated, as Yuji clings to your leg, babbling excitedly about your return. He turns to Sukuna, glaring a little. “So, you think you’re the cool uncle, huh?” he grumbles.

Sukuna smirks, crossing his arms with a cocky grin. “I don’t think, kid. I know.”

Choso rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath, “I knew I should’ve stayed home this semester…”

You laugh, noticing Choso’s pout, and lean in conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, Choso.” you say with a wink. “There’s always room for many cool people in Yuji’s life.”

Choso sighs but manages a smile. “Yeah, yeah, I guess so.” he mutters, giving in with a playful eye roll. “But I’m still making those dinosaur cookies with him today.”

Yuji bounces up and down excitedly. “Dinosaur cookies with chocolate chips!” he exclaims, clearly enjoying this newfound competition for his affection.

Sukuna scoffs, grinning. “Game on, Choso. Game on.”

And with that, Choso knows his days of being Yuji’s favorite are numbered… but at least it’ll be fun trying to win back the title.

1K notes · View notes

evereinefaust · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝. 𝐈𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐔 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞! 𝐀 𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝐀𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐲𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐋𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐜𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥

𝐏𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲? 𝐏𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲

𝐃𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐮𝐧?

𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞

𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐬!

𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐤𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝟒 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

𝐋𝐎𝐇 𝐖𝐞𝐛𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐞

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐞𝐚 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐬'𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐄𝐯𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐠𝐨!

𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞

𝐀 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞

𝐓𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

𝐌𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐋𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐧𝐢𝐜

𝐁𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜!

𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐰

𝐆𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐚'𝐬 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟

𝐑𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐚 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢

𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐞!

𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐚 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫

𝐒𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐬(𝐬)𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐮𝐫

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰-𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐕𝐢𝐞𝐰

𝐅𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐅𝐞𝐭𝐞

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐞'𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥

𝐀 𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥

𝐑𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐠𝐞 𝐝𝐞 𝐥𝐚 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐮𝐞

𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐀 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳 𝐁𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲!

𝐀 𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐫-𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐡

𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐞'𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐚

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡

1 note · View note

jjunieworld · 4 months

Text

MEET ME AT OUR SPOT ˒˒ 심재윤 ▸ part one of the player’s game series⌇playlist & series tag

with the news of your grandma’s depleting health, life has you moving to your mother’s seaside hometown for the summer to your aunt’s. while there, you meet the illustrious player—jake sim—that everyone can’t seem to stop talking about. what you never expected was to gain his attention and spend the three months you’re there falling for him.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ sim jaeyun x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 jungwon, lifeguard!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jake’s ex)

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ angst, smut, fluff, strangers to temporary lovers, beach au, summer fling/summer love, lifeguard!jake, blonde!jake, kindaaa slow burn, h2o jokes references (i had to), slice of life, lifeguarding & surfing inaccuracies, reader is jungwon’s cousin

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ player!jake, toxic!jake, soft dom!jake, subtle manipulation, reader and hana almost drown once, mentions of reader’s dad passing (before story) and grandma’s depleting health, alcohol, skinny dipping, corruption kink, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, unprotected sex (condoms!), fingering, oral fixation, oral (f. rec), semi-public sex?, jake is jealous and a little possessive, he’s also lowkey a munch, hair pulling, cum eating?, petnames (baby, pretty), praise, jake talks you through it, creampie, dirty talk, slight dacryphilia, dumbification, marking

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ this is mainly for @jjunberry (who held me at gunpoint to make this fic about jake), so echo i hope you enjoy!! ♡ i might make a part two,,, not sure! i have some ideas for it, but it depends on how everyone is feeling! >ㅅ< let me know what you think!! divider is by @/cafekitsune :D i hope you all enjoy!!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

∿ [ 22k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]

your mom nudged you awake just as the plane was beginning to land. you rubbed your bleary eyes and blinked rapidly to try and get your eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. nudging you again, your mom said, “wake up, we’re about to land.”

rolling your sore neck out, you sat up in your chair and looked around the plane at all the other passengers preparing themselves for the landing. you sighed softly to yourself, you never really liked planes—not that you’ve been on many. you were flying from the small town you called home to the small seaside hometown of your mother’s on the request of your aunt.

your aunt’s phone call still replayed in your head. you and your mom were in the middle of making lunch together when she got it. with a smile, your mom answered her sister’s call. “yes, older sister, is there a reason you’re interrupting my day?” your mom asked playfully.

her grin quickly vanished and through the phone you could hear your aunt say, “it’s mom… the doctors say she isn’t getting better…”

your mom turned you with a worried expression. you had stirred the contents of the pot on the stove before turning fully to your mom, brows furrowed. fear sank deep into your chest at the thought of your grandma not getting better. surely there was something else the doctors could do, right?

stepping up beside your mom at the kitchen island, you listened in to what your aunt was saying. “they’re trying everything they can. some things work—and she starts getting better—but some things don’t,” you could hear your aunt's voice start to wobble.

your aunt then quickly changed the subject away from your grandma’s depleting health, “why don’t you and y/n come down here for the summer? see grandma, jungwon, and i? it’s been so long since i’ve seen you both!”

you thought about the last time you saw your aunt and cousin. it was at your dad’s funeral—where you and your aunt had desperately tried to keep your mom together. it would be nice if you made a new, happier memory with them.

“oh…” your mom spoke, looking over to your place next to her. you could tell she was trying hard not to break in front of you. “we’ll be there.”

you and your mom were in your aunt’s car now after she had picked the two of you up from the airport. your head was resting against the glass as you peered out to the coastal scenery. you’ve never been to your mom’s hometown before. you had asked her once—sometime after your father’s death—and the sadness in her eyes made you regret asking. it was where your parents met. your father was visiting and the rest is history.

[ YOU HAD ME AT “HELLO” — 1ST MONTH ] ✈︎ ninety-two days until you return home.

your aunt pulled up to her and your mom’s childhood home where you could see your cousin, jungwon, waiting for you all on the porch. jungwon jogged up to the car just as you were exiting it, “y/nie! it’s been so long since i last saw you. did your head get bigger?”

“shut up!” you said, playfully pushing your cousin away from you. you put a finger to your chin in thought, “hmm, did you get shorter? i swear you were taller the last time i saw you.”

jungwon put a hand to his chest in mock hurt as he playfully rolled his eyes with a grin. he helped you and your mom get your luggage out from the car and drag it all inside.

you were staying in your mom’s childhood bedroom for the summer. although most of her decorations from her teen years had been taken down, you could still see the remnants of your mom in the room. you piled up your suitcases near the closet and dresser, turning to jungwon with a huff as you tried to catch your breath.

“we should head down to the beach after you’re done settling in! you said you’ve never been in the ocean, right?” jungwon asked you. you nodded in reply. you were excited to swim in the ocean and check out what the boardwalk had to offer.

“we should, that sounds fun!” you exclaimed. he then left and you started the lengthy process of turning the bedroom into your own for the summer. it didn’t help that you also overpacked. you couldn’t really tell what to bring and what not to bring to a small seaside town, so you kind of brought everything.

once you finished unpacking and taking a quick visit to your grandma’s room to greet her, you met jungwon in the living room. he was sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone. once he heard your approaching footsteps he looked up. “ready to go?” he asked you.

“ready to go,” you repeated with a nod. you had dressed in your bathing suit and cover before leaving your room and you saw that jungwon had done the same. he was clad in swim trunks with a black shirt. nerves bubbled in you about swimming in the ocean for the first time but you tried to not let anxious thoughts overwhelm you.

you and jungwon were making the short walk down to the ocean, which your aunt thankfully didn’t live too far from, when you caught sight of the boardwalk and marveled at all the shops and people around. you and jungwon laid your towels down in the sand and made your way straight to the bright blue water. squealing as jungwon flicked the cold water at you, you pushed your hands forward to splash him back. you then dunked completely under the water to try and get used to the coldness faster.

“oh my god!” you exclaimed as you surfaced, teeth chattering and body shivering, “i wasn’t expecting the water to be this cold!” you guessed that it was quite nice with the harsh heat of the summer sun beating down on you. jungwon’s laugh filled your ears as he splashed water at you again.

you weren’t the best of swimmers, that fact being very obvious to jungwon once he saw you doggy paddling in the water. you mostly stuck close to the shore, not wanting your feet to not be able to touch the ground. slowly, jungwon got you further and further out to try and help you swim better. it wasn’t working that well.

“i swear if i end up drowning out here because you’re a shitty swim teacher, i’m coming back to haunt you so bad!” you shouted to jungwon as you dipped under the water with the small oncoming wave. jungwon laughed hard, “don’t be mad at me because you’re a shitty swim student! besides, there’s like three lifeguards on the beach right now.”

jungwon motioned back to the shore at the three lifeguards. you turned to look, their small figures elevated from the rest of the crowd. one of them blew their whistle at some kid trying to drown another kid. distantly, you heard him yell, “stop trying to drown her before i kick you off the beach!”

you turned back to jungwon, “they seem preoccupied.”

jungwon shook his head with a smile. “well i’m kind of hungry… i’m gonna go get something to eat. you coming with or staying in the water?” jungwon asked you. you thought it over for a moment. you weren’t particularly hungry. “i’ll stay in the water. you know, hone my swimming skills while you’re gone,” you replied.

“don’t drown!” jungwon said as he began making his way to the shore. you scoffed playfully at him. once you were alone in the water, you started trying to actually swim a little. you decided that you wanted to test yourself to see what you learned by going further out in the ocean.

you were swimming, pretending to be a mermaid and going absolutely nowhere when all of a sudden a bigger wave than normal came rushing towards you. you noticed it a second too late and it crashed into you, causing you to submerge in the water.

just as you surfaced, gasping for air, another wave hit you and submerged you again. you hands grasped at air and your lungs burned as your ears rang. you didn’t know how long you spent being pummeled by the water until you felt arms wrap around you.

you were flipped onto your back as they pulled you to the surface. sputtering and gasping, you were finally able to inhale properly and bring oxygen back to your lungs. you tried to move but your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and you couldn’t help closing your eyes from the bright sun.

your back hit a hard surface and you cracked your eyes open to see that you were on a surfboard. “i got you, don’t worry,” a male voice, who you were assuming was one of the lifeguards, said above you. you started to cough violently as you held on for dear life to the surfboard. “thank you,” you managed to whisper hoarsely.

“no worries!” he responded breezily. you could feel him paddle you back to shore. you focused on taking deep breaths and trying to still your racing heart. you could’ve died back there all because you got cocky. if the lifeguard didn’t rescue you when he did you would’ve drowned.

once you both got back to the shore the lifeguard gave you a once over to ensure everything was all right. he pushed the blonde hair off his forehead as he spoke to you, “are you okay?”

you nodded weakly and said a bit flusteredly, “i think so, yes. thank you again, truly!” he flashed a bright smile at you and you couldn’t help but notice how cute he was. it almost made you want to jump back into the water and purposefully sink to the bottom so he would come and save you again.

“maybe you should stay out of the water for a while,” he said with a smile, “especially if you’re alone.” just at that moment you heard your name being shouted, the sound getting closer and closer to you. it was your cousin and you could hear the worry in his voice.

“oh my god, y/n!” jungwon exclaimed as he bent down towards you in the sand. he kept repeating what he said a couple times as he inspected you. you had to push his hands away and tell him that you were fine thanks to the lifeguard.

“i told you not to drown!” he suddenly shouted. if the people around you weren’t already staring at you, they were now. heat rose to your face from all of the sudden attention and embarrassment filled you. before you could speak the lifeguard chimed in, “technically she didn’t!”

you raised your brows as you smiled at how annoyed jungwon looked from his comment. “exactly, i got saved!” you added. jungwon waved a hand at you as you got to your feet with the aid of the lifeguard. jungwon then grumbled to himself, “i knew i should’ve made you come with me. and just my luck too, i left my food back at the table!”

turning swiftly to you, jungwon took your arm, “alright, beach time is over, we're going home. you get to explain to our moms how you managed to almost drown.” he pushed you towards the entrance of the boardwalk. jungwon then turned to the lifeguard and said, “oh! thank you for saving her!”

the two of you were almost out of the boardwalk when jungwon asked you why you kept looking behind you. you quickly turned to face forward with heated cheeks. you had been staring back at the attractive lifeguard, not realizing how obvious you were being about it. “that lifeguard was cute,” you said meekly.

jungwon looked behind him to look, “oh, jake? you really don’t want to get involved with him, y/n… he’s kind of a player.” you began to laugh off his statement when you turned to look at jake again and saw how he was surrounded by a group of girls in colorful bikinis.

jake had a smirk on his face as he wrapped his arm around a girl with dark hair while talking to another. your heart sunk a little in your chest. of course you weren’t the most special girl in the world, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t feel a little disappointed. you had to be realistic with yourself, someone like jake wasn’t going to fall for an average, everyday girl like you.

“oh…” was all you could say in reply as you turned back to the path you were taking home. you tried to think of the bright side of things—at least you wouldn’t end the summer with a failed relationship and a broken heart.

it had been almost a week since you arrived and besides the small beach trip you and jungwon took when you first got here, you haven’t left the house much. you were pretty sure that you were driving your mom and aunt crazy, especially when your mom brought up the idea of you getting a summer job. “it’s easy cash!” your mom explained, setting her open book down on her lap.

you aunt chimed in, “yeah! i heard mrs. song needed some more employees, why don’t you go down to the juice bar and apply?” you supposed that earning a little bit of cash while you were here wasn’t that bad of an idea, so you did exactly what your aunt suggested.

mrs. song didn’t even spare one glance at you and all she asked was, “can you make a smoothie?” you told her that you could—and very well if you do say so yourself—and she responded with, “great, you’re hired! you start monday at nine.”

you hadn’t realized that it would be that easy. she didn’t even interview you, but you put it to the back of your mind. you weren’t the one to pass up easy money. you had thought that it would at least take maybe an hour to go through the whole process, so now you were out and about with nothing to do. you decided to explore the town a little by yourself, since you still were unfamiliar with the whole place.

as your feet moved mindlessly, you looked around. it was a beautiful day out today, just cool enough for the summer sun not to boil you. you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize that you were climbing over some rocks to a secluded part of the beach until you almost slipped and fell.

there was a cove where a small amount of the water flowed in to an open cave-like entrance. being the curious person you were, you decided to follow it. you peeked into the cave, there was a huge opening at the top of it that let in a lot of sunlight. cautiously, with your flip flops in your hand, you made your way into the cave. you guess it wasn't really a cave at all, more of an open rock structure.

you were in the middle of the cave, the opening at the ceiling shining sunlight onto you, when you heard behind you, “oh!” jumping in shock, you turned to where the voice came from.

it was the cute lifeguard who saved you earlier this week—jake. he wore his shock completely on his face as he was frozen mid stride. there was a towel balled up in his arms along with what looked like some fishing equipment. heat quickly spread through your face as you struggled to make eye contact with him. “wasn’t expecting anyone to be here…” he murmured to himself, shaking the blonde hair out of his eyes slightly. you noticed he had an accent.

“oh! i’ll go!” you quickly said, already making your way back to the entrance. jake held up his hands to stop you and in the process his towel fell to the sand below the both of you. “no, no, no, that’s okay! you can stay if you want. uh… hello!” he replied with a smile.

you froze right in front of him like a deer in headlights, but managed to nod. he nodded back to you, smile widening, before making his way further into the cave. he sat his stuff down a couple feet from the small pool of water that formed from the ocean. you stood in the same spot by the entrance and watched him.

“nice meeting you again! what was your name? are you new here? i feel like you are. i haven’t seen you around before,” jake asked you, looking up from where he fiddled with his fishing hook. you took small steps towards him and nodded. “uh, yeah! my name’s y/n—i’m just here for the summer actually! thanks again for, you know, saving my life,” you said awkwardly.

jake chuckled, “seriously! no worries, y/n! so… how’d you find this place? i mean, nobody really knows about it but me.” he put his hook down and stood from his spot, giving you his full attention.

“i was just wandering around really…” you trailed, scratching the back of your neck, “i’ve been trying to explore the area since everything is so new to me.” jake’s eyebrows raised and he nodded at your words.

“you know what, you should let me show you around town since you’re new here!” jake exclaimed like it meant absolutely nothing. your eyebrows shot up at his offer. he wanted to show you around? just the two of you?

you shook your head a little and waved a hand in the air at him, “oh, you don’t have to bother! i can find my way around by my—“

jake cut you off and playfully said, “come on, i insist! i can’t just let you wander around blind! besides, this town may be small, but it does have its secrets. and lucky for you, i just so happen to know all of them!” he motioned around the cave that the two of you were in. “for example: this place,” he added.

call it genuine curiosity or the fact that you found him so attractive and charming that you couldn’t say no, you agreed. “if you insist!” you laughed sheepishly and jake smiled from ear to ear. the warning of him being a player got completely pushed out of your mind and all you could think about was the opportunity of getting close to him. everything seemed so perfect for it.

jake walked up to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “good, good! i was gonna go fishing, but this is way more fun. from here on out, this place will be known as our spot!” jake held a hand out as he turned the two of you in a circle. you giggled and glanced over at him, “our spot, got it!”

for the rest of the day, you and jake spent time getting to know each other as he showed you around town. he was a lot different than you thought he would be. for one, you expected him to be a lot more standoffish, but he was really friendly instead.

the two of you were sitting at one of the tables outside of a food stand after getting food when you asked jake what he liked to do for fun—besides the fishing he was going to do earlier. “well, i like long walks on the beach and—“ he joked before you cut him off with a nudge to his shoulder.

“be serious!” you exclaimed as he started laughing, which made you laugh too. jake raised his shoulders and exclaimed, “what! i do like long walks on the beach, they’re calming!”

after the two of you settled down a little, jake suddenly asked, “do you have a bucket list?” you thought for a moment. you’ve heard of the whole concept of bucket lists, but you always thought them too unrealistic to actually go through with it. it was more of those things that you thought would be nice to do, but knew you were never going to be able to do it.

“no, i don’t,” you replied.

jake’s eyes widened at you from across the table. the setting sun casted him in a hazy glow and made his blonde hair almost appear pinkish. “you don’t have a bucket list? no, we need to fix this. we’re coming up with a bucket list together—what’s something you always wanted to do?” he asked rapidly.

“i’ll have to think this through first!” you quickly spoke, holding your hands out in front of you to slow him down, “it has to be realistic if we’re gonna do this together, i’m only here for three months! and i want to be able to have memories of it—physical memories!”

“okay, okay, i’ll give you until tomorrow to come up with some ideas!” jake laughed, “but what do you mean physical memories?” he leaned forward onto the table and rested his head in his hand as he waited for your answer.

humming in thought, you replied, “like one of those cheap disposable cameras! we can take a bunch of pictures of us going through the bucket list and at the end of summer when i’m gone we can get them developed! that way we stay in the moment.” jake’s eyes lit up and he practically dragged you out of your seat and down the boardwalk.

“i know just the place!” he said and led you towards the entrance of the boardwalk. after walking a short distance, jake pulled you into a place that selled various types of cameras. you had gotten there just in time, since the store was just about to close for the night.

the two of you had run around the store looking for the disposable cameras you were talking about, having absolutely no luck, until you heard jake call out your name. when you made your way over to him he held two in his hands out for you to see. “one for you and one for me!” he grinned.

you made your way over to the register and jake paid for them—which you complained about but he ignored you anyways. once you got outside you both ripped the packages open. you heard jake turning the dial and looked up. he had the camera up to his face and took a picture of you just as you looked up.

blinking rapidly, a shy smile took over your face. “what was that for?” you asked. jake grinned from behind the camera and lowered it to look fully at you.

“i want my first memory to be of you,” jake said simply. your eyes widened and your heart did backflips in your chest. heat spread to your cheeks and you looked away at the intensity of his stare.

“really?” you asked quietly. you heard jake’s laugh and his finger was under your chin. he turned your head so you were looking at him. the two of you were so close you could feel his breath fanning across your cheeks. jake nodded at you.

with a smile he added, “you’re so cute.” he held his camera up and aimed it at the both of you so that you were in frame. still shocked from what just happened, you idly looked up the camera with a dazed smile and jake snapped another picture.

to break the sudden tension, you turned to him with a flustered smile. “i want one of us too!” you said cheerfully. you held your camera up and jake wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close until you were completely up against him. your face felt on fire as you snapped the picture.

you looked over to jake—who still had his arm wrapped around you waist—and quickly came up with an excuse to escape the tension. “i should probably start heading home,” you muttered as jake stared back at you, “it’s getting late.”

jake slowly removed his arm—not far, as it now rested on your hip as you turned to face him. “i’ll walk you,” he replied.

the walk back to your aunt’s was shorter than you expected and it made you wish that you purposefully took a couple wrong turns so that you could stay with jake longer. you were beginning to really enjoy his company and wanted to get to know him more. you took a step towards the porch before turning to jake. “this is me…” you trailed.

he had given you his number on the walk over so you could talk more about the summer plans you had come up with. “it was nice getting to know you today,” jake spoke softly, a smile slipping onto his lips. you nodded and agreed with him.

“thank you for making my summer more interesting! if it weren’t for your bucket list idea i probably would just stay in the house the whole summer whenever i’m not working at the juice bar…” you chuckled. jake joined in with you and said that it was no problem.

for a second, you thought that he was going to kiss you, like how this scene played out before in so many movies. an awkward smile overcame your face and you took another step towards the door. “i’ll see you later?” you asked, taking more steps towards the door.

“absolutely! after your shift tomorrow—you did say you worked tomorrow, right?” jake asked and you nodded in reply. he then said, “i’ll see you tomorrow then!”

when you finally got into the house you inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly. you took your shoes and jacket off by the door just as your mom came down the stairs. “you were gone all day! where have you been?” she asked curiously and made her way to the kitchen.

following her, you responded, “just out exploring the town… i made a new friend!” she hummed and turned to raise her eyebrows at the last part. “new friend? that’s good, honey! maybe you won’t be inside all summer,” she teased.

the two of you laughed and you made your way upstairs to get ready for bed. you placed the disposable camera on your dresser, a small smile coming to your lips as you thought about the day you just had. slipping into bed, you tried to not let the excitement for tomorrow not let you sleep and closed your eyes.

jake: meet me at our spot? jake: after your shift, of course.

your shift had just ended when jake had texted you. the two of you texted all night about potential bucket list ideas for the summer but neither of you had decided on anything concrete.

you: i’ll see you there!

when you got to you and jake’s “spot”, he was waiting there for you, two drinks in hand while sitting in the sand. the sunlight from up above perfectly lit him up and made his blonde hair glow. he extended one of the drinks out to you—the same drink you had gotten last night on your little adventure together—as he rose to his feet.

you thanked him with a warm smile and the two of you had begun going over different ideas for your bucket list. “remember though, i’m only here for three months! it can’t be anything crazy like going skydiving or anything,” you told jake as you sat side by side in the sand near the entrance of the cave.

jake nodded and pretended to cross something off midair. “got it—no skydiving,” he said with a playful pout. you giggled at him while nudging him with your shoulder as you rolled your eyes.

“what about… surfing?” you asked, turning to jake. “i’ve never been surfing before, but that’s mainly because i can’t swim… maybe that isn’t a good idea actually.” you let out a nervous laugh as you recalled the way you and jake met and your cheeks heated from the embarrassment.

“lucky for you,” jake said while standing to his feet and putting his hands on his hips, “you have the number one lifeguard here to teach you and look out for you!” jake started flexing in various poses, making you laugh as you looked up at him.

“seriously, though. i can teach you! nothing will happen to you on my watch,” jake exclaimed as he sat back down. you shrugged, he was your best option considering that he’s literally a lifeguard. if something went south, at least you knew you’d survive with him by your side. nodding, you agreed, “okay, deal!”

you and jake spent the rest of the time at your spot debating on various things you both wanted to do for your bucket list. other than him teaching you how to surf, the both of you also came up with stargazing, going to the summer splash charity event, and doing something adventurous—like skinny dipping.

the summer splash charity event is a party that raises money to provide resources for the sheltered animals in town. according to jake, it happens every year and everyone goes to it. it’s a formal event that everyone dresses to the nines for. you made a mental note to ask your mom about it to see if she had a dress you could borrow.

“skinny dipping?!” you whipped around to where jake was sitting, feet in the water as he mindlessly dipped his finger into it. he looked back to where you were standing, “what? you said you wanted to do something adventurous and that’s the first thing i thought of!”

you wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly self conscious, as you shifted your weight from one leg to the other. noticing the change in your body language, jake stood as came up to you slowly. “we can do it at night when the beach is completely empty—or not at all if you’re not comfortable. it’s completely up to you,” jake said softly.

you looked down to your feet as you thought about it. you did tell him that you wanted to do something adventurous this summer, break out of your shell. there’s nothing more adventurous and nothing that screams “breaking out of your shell” quite like skinny dipping does. you inhaled deeply, “no… let’s do it—only at night though and only when the beach is completely empty.”

jake’s eyebrows raised but you couldn’t miss the slight smirk that was making its way onto his lips. “are you sure?” he asked seriously.

you hit jake in the arm. “don’t pretend like you aren’t excited to see a naked girl!” you joked, trying to lift the tension. the smirk on his face shifted to a grin and he broke out into a laugh. jake held his hands up in the air and turned away from you. “i can’t say that i’m not,” he replied.

the first month of your stay was almost coming to an end and it seemed as if you and jake were attached at the hip. for the entire month, jake had shown you the ins and outs of the small seaside town until you knew it like the back of your hand. your disposable cameras had filled up and you had to buy another one from all the pictures you’ve taken.

a smile came to your face and heat spread across your cheeks as you thought about one of the special pictures you’ve taken just yesterday. you and jake were out on the town again, him showing you this skate park that nobody really uses anymore. the two of you sat on the edge of the ramp and you listened as jake pointed out various graffitied names and told you about the people behind them.

it was nighttime, and you knew you should start heading home before it got too late out, but—like always—you didn’t want your time with jake to end. the moment grew quiet and your eyes traveled over all the different names and made up different stories for them. you felt a pair of eyes on you and looked over to where jake was staring intently at you.

“i’m glad i got to meet you,” he said softly, leaning closer to you. you looked away briefly, a flustered smile lighting up your features and face heating. you couldn’t imagine a different timeline where you didn’t meet jake.

“i’m glad i got to meet you, too,” you replied shyly. jake smiled and reached his hand up to cup your cheek. for another moment, which seemed everlasting, the two of you looked into each other’s eyes. when his lips pressed to yours, everything felt as if it fell into place. it felt as if this was the moment when everything clicked—when you knew what you’d finally been looking for.

you were filled with passion that threatened to break out. you pulled jake closer and the thought of needing to breathe didn’t even cross your mind. that was, until your lungs screamed for air and you and jake finally pulled away from each other.

a smile broke out onto your face and it did on jake’s as well. he chuckled slightly and held your hands in his. then his eyes lit up suddenly and he was pushing himself off the ground and jogging over to where your bags were.

“what are you doing?” you giggled, turning fully to where he stood. he dug in both of your bags and pulled out the cameras. jake then jogged back over to you, dropping back down to the ground next to you, and handed you your camera.

“you said you wanted physical memories, right?” jake held up his camera so that the two of you were in frame with all the graffitied names in the back. “say cheese!” he smiled and you laughed—which he caught with the flash of the camera.

“now you,” jake added, urging you to hold up your camera. you laughed again and held up your camera, head tilted against jake’s, as you snapped a picture. you turned to jake and he smiled at you. he then pressed a kiss to your cheek and laughed at how flustered you got from it, which he also managed to catch on camera.

when you did finally get home, drunk on the thought of the kiss you and jake shared, jungwon was waiting for you. he sat on the couch, some random show he wasn’t watching playing on the tv. when you stepped through the door, he turned towards you.

“you and jake have been spending a lot of time together…” jungwon trailed, eyebrows knitting together. the smile on your face vanished and you quickly took off your shoes.

“yeah…” you mumbled in reply, “what about it? we’re friends.” you didn’t mean for your words to come out so harsh, but you couldn’t help it. you were getting two different ideas of jake and you believed the one that came straight from the source more rather than the one that was passed around.

jungwon’s eyebrows raised slightly, “i just want you to be careful and to not get hurt. i told you, he’s a player, and i don’t want you to get caught up—“

“i’m a big girl, jungwon. i can handle myself,” you cut him off abruptly. anger pulsated through you. why does he keep telling you this? “jake isn’t like that—not anymore.”

before jungwon could speak again, you stormed off to your room. you refused to let his words ruin your night, not after you and jake had finally kissed. you tried to focus your mind on the kiss, the way his soft lips felt against yours and the tickle of his blonde hair—dark brown roots barely grown out—against your skin.

inhaling deeply, you got ready for bed. under the security of the covers, you opened up your phone to send a message to jake. a smile made its way across your face and it took everything in you not to squeal as you put your phone on your nightstand.

you: i had a really great time tonight! sweet dreams! jake: me too! sweet dreams, pretty.

you mentally slapped yourself to stop thinking about his text. “pretty,” he called you pretty. you giggled to yourself and turned over in your bed, shutting your eyes.

[ YOU KNOW I’LL “SEE YOU LATER” — 2ND MONTH ] ✈︎ sixty-two days until you return home.

it’s been almost a week since the kiss you and jake shared. the two of you had fallen naturally into things a couple do—go on what seem like dates, kiss and such. you were so sure that jake was going to ask you to be his girlfriend, yet he’s made nothing official.

you thought that maybe you were imagining the whole thing, that the two of you haven’t kissed at all and nothing has changed between the two of you, but that was until he kissed you again. and again. the only thing he asked you is if you wanted to go to a beach party one of his friends is having this weekend—which you agreed to.

you sat slumped against the counter of the juice bar. today was a slow day and you began regretting working there at all with how much your feet hurt. “i don’t know, what do you think? am i overthinking things? i just feel like he should’ve asked me by now…” you looked to your side to where your coworker, hana, leaned near the smoothie machine.

you met hana on your third day of working at the juice bar and the two of you became fast friends. you didn’t have a lot of shifts together, but when you did she told you all the gossip on some of the people around town who you’ve never met and probably never will. in return, you mainly shared your anxious thoughts revolving jake, which she didn’t seem to mind hearing.

“are you sure he’s not playing you?” hana asked, somewhat hesitantly. you sighed and looked away, focusing your attention on the ocean waves ahead. you hated how many times people asked you that question.

“there’s nothing to play if i’m not even his girlfriend,” you stated. to which hana responded with a “…not quite.”

“i know this is a sore subject for you so i’ll keep it brief, but what if he is?” she pushed off the counter and made her way over to you, slumping next to you as she looked at you. she rested her head in her hand, “i don’t really know this jake, but i have heard of him. and i’ve heard that he cheated on his last girlfriend. now that could just be a rumor, but he doesn’t exactly have the cleanest track record. the guy has hooked up with every girl he could lay his eyes on—what if he’s just trying to get into your pants?”

you groaned and buried your face in your arms. this really didn’t help with your overthinking. what if jake was just trying to get into your pants? what if this all was some elaborate scheme to get close to the new girl so he could sleep with you? what if he wasn’t the person he was making himself out to be?

“what if he is?” you asked, voice muffled. you already knew the answer, hana didn’t even need to say it. and she didn’t. hana rubbed comforting circles onto your back instead.

“my shift is about to end… i really hope that what i said isn’t true y/n, but for your own sake… i would be careful around him.” you got up from the counter, nodding at hana and her departure, and sighed again. from your pocket you felt your phone buzz and looking at it, you laughed wryly. the universe really does have a way with things…

jake: hang out with me after your shift? jake: we can get a move on with our bucket list and i can teach you how to surf!

you wanted to bang your head off the counter at how your heart fluttered from him messaging you. you wanted to heed everyone’s constant warnings, but a part of you wanted to push them out of your head. a part of you wanted to cast caution to the wind and take the leap of faith. jake couldn’t be playing you, he couldn’t. that just didn’t seem like him. a part of you wanted to keep moving forward with your relationship, close your eyes to the fact that you could very well be walking down the path of getting hurt.

at this point, you were in too deep. if you got hurt, then you got hurt. at least then you’d know it was real—at least for you. caution be damned. you inhaled sharply as your fingers typed out your response:

you: of course! meet me at the beach after i grab my swimsuit? jake: i’ll see you later!

after your shift ended—and you ran back home to grab your swimsuit—you met jake at the beach like you both agreed. he was already clad in swim trunks, the lack of shirt shocking you for a quick second, and leaning against the surfboard he had next to him. “you ready?” jake asked as you walked up to him, a smile gracing his lips as he pushed off his surfboard.

you nodded, eager to get into the water and cool down your heated cheeks. the two of you made your way into the water together after he grabbed another surfboard for himself, passing the one he was carrying to you.

jake had begun teaching you how to actually even get on the board, firstly getting onto your stomach and then eventually standing. when you finally cheered at the fact that you were able to stand and not embarrassingly slide off into the water, he then taught you how to actually ride a wave.

“steady… and then up!” jake guided next to you as the two of you caught a small wave. when you surfed back to the shore you jumped to your feet and cheered, wrapping your arms around his bare torso.

“i did it! i did it!” you cheered, twirling you and jake as he laughed. you pulled away from him, smile still as big as the sun. jake pulled you into a brief kiss, pulling away with a proud smile. “you did it!” jake cheered back.

with your flustered gaze, you turned back to the oncoming waves with newfound courage, but instead noticed something else. in the distance, you could see someone flailing in the water. their head went under with the oncoming waves. in wordless shock all you could do was point towards the water while hitting jake’s arm until the words finally spilled from your mouth, “someone’s drowning!”

jake turned towards the direction you pointed in just as the person in the water gasped for air and went back under. his eyes widened and he briefly looked around at the lifeguards present on the beach. when he saw that none of them were paying attention, he picked up his surfboard from the sand and took off towards the water.

you stood back on the shore, worry eating at you as jake pulled the person onto the surfboard and swam them back to shore. it reminded you of how he saved you on your first day here. when he reached shore you helped him get the unconscious person onto the sand as one of the lifeguards ran towards your direction.

your eyes widened in horror as you realized it was your friend, hana. jake alternated doing mouth to mouth and chest compressions on her until her eyes sprang open and she coughed up water. “oh my god, hana! are you okay?” you bent down to ask with furrowed brows, cradling her cheek with your hand.

weakly, she nodded and smiled at you. hana turned her attention to jake, her smile widened as she let out a hoarse “thank you, you saved my life!” jake gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded, his eyes finding yours. the two of you backed up as the lifeguard on duty took over.

“that’s one of my good friends from work!” you exclaimed as you looked back at the scene, brows knitted together. “i really hope she’s okay… almost drowning is really scary.”

jake’s hand found yours and he pulled you back to where your towels were. his face was weirdly blank and there was what almost seemed to be a scowl on his lips. you put a hand on his shoulder and leaned towards him, “hey… you alright?”

jake just nodded, giving you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “that was just kinda hectic… why don’t we go do something else instead of surfing again?” he asked you. you nodded, an empathetic smile forming on your lips.

the weekend had arrived and the beach party that seemed to be the talk of the town was tonight. instead of being excited for your first ever beach party, you were nervously shifting your phone in your hands. since the whole beach incident, it’s been almost radio silence from jake. when he was answering your texts, they were only one word replies or dry texts.

you didn’t understand what had gone wrong. at first you thought he needed space. saving someone’s life was no easy feat and definitely had to take a toll on him, but you wanted to be there for him any way that you could.

when you saw him one day while working, he acted like he didn’t even hear you calling him—choosing to instead hurry off with one of his friends. your heart dropped and hana rubbed more comforting circles into your back as you tried not to cry. “he really seems like he’s playing you, y/n…” hana had trailed off hesitantly, knowing how much of a sensitive issue this was for you. “maybe you should just end things officially with him.”

what if jake was playing you?

you did the finishing touches on your outfit for the party and took another look at yourself in the mirror, a small smile forming on your lips. it was just your bathing suit and a simple cover up, but you looked good, if you did say so yourself. you grabbed your phone again, hoping to hear from jake but knew that you wouldn’t. sighing, you threw your phone onto your bed.

you debated even going to the stupid party—in fact, you were already an hour and a half late for it. what was the point if the person who invited you wasn’t even talking to you? but you thought fuck that. you were going to go out and enjoy your summer at a party you were going to have fun at, with or without jake.

after doing another once over in the mirror, you grabbed your things and made your way downstairs for the walk down to the beach. if jake was going to ignore you, you were going to ignore him right back. tonight, you were only going to care about you, not him. two can play at this petty game.

you could hear the music playing from the party, which only got louder and louder the nearer you got to it. there were bodies everywhere, including those in the water. everyone was clad in their bathing suits, either chatting with others or pulling each other into the water. you made your way over to where a bar was set up and grabbed yourself a drink.

you didn’t want to get too drunk tonight, since you were alone, but you wanted something in your system. nursing the drink, you wandered around to find something to do. it dawned on you how little people you knew here. you didn’t really expand your friendships much besides jake and hana.

the cool night breeze made you shiver slightly, so you decided to make your way over to where there was a campfire set up. there were plenty of people around it and maybe you could meet some new friends. that’s when your heart dropped.

just a few feet ahead of you was jake and his friends, no doubt drunk out of their minds. you wondered how you didn’t hear their loud bantering over the music, but you guess that it all sort of blended in. jake sat on a beach chair, some random girl in his lap with his hand resting on her ass. it wasn’t any girl you recognized.

what the fuck, you thought, anger bubbling up inside you. i knew it, i should’ve knew he was playing me like the fucking fool i am. just at that moment you and jake made eye contact, the smile on his face faltering as he took in your look of pure devastation. you should’ve just stayed home.

turning on your feet, your eyes scanned for somewhere you could run to, but seeing nowhere good enough they landed on the water ahead. it’ll have to do.

you stripped off your bathing suit cover and speed walked with fevered passion out towards the water, hoping that the darkness will cover up your tracks. you didn’t even care that the water was freezing cold, you couldn’t feel it with how the anger was heating up your skin. instead, you dipped your head underwater for a couple seconds, complete silence and darkness calming you briefly, before surfacing again. luckily, jake didn’t follow you out—if you could even consider that luck.

as soon as you surfaced, you were face to face with a stranger you didn’t know. you let out a shocked gasp and moved backwards. “sorry,” the stranger awkwardly chuckled, giving you some space. “i saw you storm in the water—it’s not safe to be out here in the dark swimming in the ocean alone.”

you quirked an eyebrow at him, “what’s it to you?” you really didn’t need more people making this moment difficult for you.

his face lit up like he forgot to mention a very crucial piece of information. “oh! uh—i’m a lifeguard.” he held out his hand to you, the moonlight illuminating it. what was up with you and lifeguards? you hesitantly took it and gave him a wary smile. “i’m jay. you’re jake’s girl, right?”

your smile immediately dropped. you weren’t “jake’s girl,” and it was clear that you never was. all you were to him was some pawn in a game you didn’t even really know you were playing. “not jake’s girl,” you responded.

you looked back to the campfire, seeing that jake and some of his friends were nowhere to be found. you turned back to jay, “and i guess you’re right. i can't swim that well anyways.” a sheepish smile made it’s way onto your face.

“maybe i should get you back to shore then…” jay laughed, “get you warmed up by the campfire? it’s pretty chilly out here and i wouldn’t want you to get sick.” you nodded and the two of you swam back to the shore together. as soon as you stepped out, your teeth chattered and your body shook like a leaf. all the heat from the anger dissipated and now you were just cold.

you and jay sat side by side on a log, the flames from the fire drying you off and warming your bodies. after a couple moments, jay turned to you and said, “you don’t seem to be one who falls for a player’s antics like jake’s.”

caught completely by surprise, you cleared your throat slightly as you thought of something to say. you weren’t one to fall for a player, especially after being warned so much about him. it was unlike you. but there was just something about jake that kept luring you in, like a lamb to the slaughter. “i guess i was too caught up in being in a new town that i put caution aside…” you trailed, staring down at your hands.

jay hummed, “ah, new girl. i see.” you looked over to him and nodded, trying to lighten the mood with a small laugh. “you live and you learn,” jay added, almost solemnly. it made you wonder what he had to go through to give you such advice. you didn’t have the chance to ask before you saw jake barreling his way over towards you, stumbling over his own feet.

he stood across the fire from you and jay, anger dripping from his face. “wow, you move on quick!” he seethed, eyes locking on yours. jake’s accent was heavy and thick, words slurred. you scoffed at him. did he think you didn’t see him with that other girl on his lap?

you shot up from your seat, “i move on quick? me? you literally had some girl on your lap after ignoring me for days, jake.” in the corner of your eyes you saw the attention the two of you were gathering. people dipping by other’s ears to whisper about the two of you. you didn’t even have to guess what they were saying. you knew that it had to be something along the lines of “jake sim strikes again! another stupid girl fell into his trap. they just don’t know how to learn.”

ignoring your words, jake instead said, “i didn’t know you were such a whore, y/n.” you face contorted to one of hurt and you took a small step back, the back of your foot knocking against the log you were just seated on.

jay jumped from the log, moving ever so slightly to step in front of you. “what the fuck, man?” jay hissed towards jake. jake didn’t even pay him any attention, his eyes never left yours.

you didn’t know how everything went so wrong. it seemed like just yesterday jake was kissing you for the first time at the abandoned skate park. now everything was so twisted and you were left standing in the center of it all. you desperately tried to not let tears well up in your eyes. jake didn’t get to go treat you this way—he didn’t get to win. you looked him dead in the eyes, “what the fuck is wrong with you, jake?”

before he could answer, his friend came up to him and slang and arm around his shoulder. you recognized him, despite jake never introducing you to any of his friends. park sunghoon, jake’s bestfriend and right-hand man—and no doubt another player. his eyes glided over your body, still somewhat wet from your dip in the ocean. his lips curled up into a smirk, “who’s this jake? victim number…” he trailed off into a laugh, eyes hooded from the alcohol. “oh wait… i lost count,” sunghoon laughed again.

the anger disappeared from jake’s face, now replaced with complete detachment as he turned to sunghoon and laughed. you literally couldn’t believe what you were seeing. was this how he treated every girl who had unfortunately fallen into his web?

“she’s cute,” sunghoon said, eye’s trailing you again. you had the urge to cover up, pulling your bathing suit cover tighter around you, suddenly feeling disgusted at the fact that they were talking about you like you weren’t even there.

“make your move, i bet she’ll let you take her right here,” jake replied, looking at you. your mouth opened in shock and you were frozen in place. jake was like a completely different person. no—this must’ve been the real him he was hiding from you to get in your pants. you were in such shock that you didn’t even see jay’s fist connecting with jake’s face until they were rolling around in the sand throwing more fists at each other.

you stood in the same spot, unmoving, as more of jake’s friends showed up and pulled them apart before anything serious could happen besides some cut lips. jake pushed his friends off of him and stormed off towards a group of girls—the one girl in particular who was in his lap earlier. he pulled her towards up and smashed his lips onto her’s, all the while making direct eye contact with you.

you looked away, scoffing to yourself as you made your way to where jay stood brushing sand off himself. “i’m so sorry, are you okay?” you asked while aiding him in brushing off sand.

in lieu of a reply, jay hissed, “he’s such a fucking asshole. how did you even get caught up in his drama?” when jay turned to you, there wasn’t any anger in his eyes—at least, not towards you. it was a genuine question, and somehow that made you feel worse about everything.

you looked back over to where jake stormed off to to see that him and his friends—and the girl he kissed—were all walking over to the ocean to swim. they left abandoned articles of clothing in their wake as they started to chase each other into the water. you sighed mellowly, “i thought he was different, not who everyone said he was… it turns out i was wrong. he’s exactly like how everyone says he is.”

you couldn’t help the stray tear that escaped your eye, quickly moving your hand to wipe it away. you felt jay’s eyes on you as you stared down at your toes in the sand. he doesn’t get to win, you thought, opening your mouth to speak as you looked up at jay.

jay beat you to it. “let’s get a drink. take your mind off of it?” he offered. you closed your mouth and nodded, walking side by side with him towards the bar.

you were well past tipsy now as you and jay spent however long talking and getting to know each other. just as the two of you were in the middle of a conversation about your favorite aquatic animal, jake walked up to you. his head was down and he looked like a kicked puppy as he stood in front of you. he was only in his swim trunks and almost completely dry, so you were guessing it’s been a while since he’s been out of the water. “y/n…” he trailed, looking up at you through slightly wet strands of blonde hair.

“the fuck do you want, jake? here to call me a whore again? just leave me alone,” you waved a hand in the air at him, taking a sip from your drink. jake tried to take your hand in his but you snatched it out of his grip. you were guessing he was sober now.

“can we please just talk?” jake asked. his eyes skimmed over to jay who was glaring at him. “privately?” jake added. you laughed at him. is he serious?

“she told you to leave her alone, dude,” jay said, tone a little harsh.

jake rolled his eyes, they landed on jay with a glare, “shut the fuck up, jay. this has nothing to do with you.” jake turned his gaze back to you, gaze softening completely. he almost looked sorry. you almost laughed again.

“please, y/n. just five minutes and you’ll never have to see me again,” jake pleaded.

next to you, jay scoffed. “you promise?” jay cooed towards jake and jake’s glare immediately came back as his eyes snapped towards him. you sighed.

“five minutes, jake. that’s all i’m giving you to explain everything,” you spoke quietly. jay looked over at you. in his eyes you saw his question, “are you sure?” you gave him a slight nod and then stood. “don’t waste my time,” you added.

you wobbled slightly as you stood and jake took your hand. again, you pulled it out of his grasp. “i can walk by myself,” you bit out. jake’s eyebrows raised in slight shock but he said nothing as he guided you to somewhere private.

he led you a little bit away from where the party was, but close enough that you still heard the music blasting from the speakers. he pulled you behind an empty stand where wandering eyes couldn’t see you. you turned to him with a deep sigh and raised brows raised as you crossed your arms. “time is ticking,” is all you said.

“she meant nothing… i promise. it's you i want, y/n,” jake started, hands coming to rest on your shoulders. you rolled your eyes at him. meant nothing? so he thinks you’re stupid.

“doesn’t seem that way to me,” you countered. you turned to walk away. if he was just going to lie to you then there wasn’t any point of hearing him out. jake grabbed your hand and pulled you back towards him. he cupped your cheek and guided your gaze back up to his. “i’m serious. it is you that i want. my head was everywhere and the alcohol didn’t help and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, y/n, i didn’t want to hurt you.”

in your head you cursed him for being so alluring, and then cursed yourself for drinking so much because now you were melting like puddy in his hands. you didn’t want to believe him, you really didn’t, but the more you searched his eyes, the more you saw the truth in them. jake wanted you, that much was the truth. but was he truly sorry… that was to be determined.

the anger in your eyes softened and your eyes glazed over, “why would you do that, jake? you don’t talk to me for days and then i come here and see you all up on some girl? after spending so much time with me and acting like we’re a couple?” you swear you saw jake’s heart break as he pulled you into his chest.

“i know, baby, i know i messed up and i’m sorry. let me make it up to you and show you that you’re the only one who matters to me,” jake said softly and you pulled away to look at him. he pressed his lips to yours, his hand cupping your face gently. you shivered slightly at his touch and the petname falling from his lips. a fire lit up inside you and you pressed your lips to his harder, wrapping your arms around his neck.

jake backed you up against the empty stand, lifting you so you sat onto the ledge that was lower than the actual stand. he pulled away from you slightly, enough for the both of you to catch your breath. “tell me now if you don’t want this and i’ll stop,” jake breathed.

you kissed him again, skin hot in all the places he touched you. “i want this,” you briefly broke apart to say. jake dropped to his knees between your legs. you shifted slightly as he pressed kisses onto your bare inner thighs, lifting your legs so they rested over his shoulders.

“uh—jake…” you stammered, eyes fluttering closed for a quick second. jake hummed, looking up at you with a raised brow. “i-i’m a virgin… i’ve never done any of this before…”

jake’s lips curled into a wicked smirk. he rose, thumbs trailing your thighs and kissed you. “that’s okay,” he said as he got to his knees again, “i’ll take good care of you, baby.”

you gave him a sheepish smile as you lifted your bathing suit cover to pool around your hips. you then lifted your hips so jake could take your bottoms off and scooted to the edge of the ledge you were sitting on.

once your bottoms were off, you shivered slightly from the sudden coldness. more from the way jake was now pressing kisses close to your core. it was embarrassing how you were absolutely dripping for him despite being angry at him not too long ago, but either jake didn’t notice or didn’t seem to care much. he returned your legs back to his shoulders.

jake’s mouth latched onto your clit and his tongue swirled around it. you jumped, a moan escaping your lips as your back arched slightly. his tongue continued to swirl around your clit and his lips sucked in, making your back arch more. your fingers ran through his blonde hair, grabbing at it to try and steady yourself. jake looked up at you and you could feel the smirk on his lips.

your breath was heavy and you shamelessly moaned from how good jake was making you feel. if there was one good thing that came out of all of this, it was finding out just how good jake was with his tongue. you were so high on cloud nine that you moaned a little too loud once you felt jake slowly enter a finger into you, testing the waters, pulling in and out slowly. he then slowly slid in another finger, the stretch making your head whirl.

jake laughed, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your body. you gasped when his fingers angled up, pressing right against your sweet spot, and bucked your hips forward. “feels so good,” you whimpered. “p-please don’t stop!”

you legs began to shake and the pleasure was so much that you couldn’t help but rock your hips towards jake’s mouth and fingers. jake started to to hum against your clit lightly, fingers moving faster. you gripped his hair and the edge of the ledge tigher, “just how many girls have you treated like this?” you breathed out between moans. your eyes were squeezed shut and you felt how close you were to being undone. “is this what you do to get back on their good side?” you asked.

jake pulled his mouth away from you and your eyes fluttered open to look down at him from the loss. his fingers continued to move rapidly. “you wouldn’t be the only girl,” jake commented. you didn’t even get a chance to respond as he pressed his fingers against your walls and you came undone onto his fingers. you squeezed your eyes shut and cried out, chest rising and falling harshly.

when you came down from your high, with the aid of jake and now suddenly sober, you opened your eyes just as he pulled his fingers out of you and to his mouth while rising to his feet. you glared at him harshly as he licked his fingers clean, mouth and chin wet with your arousal and blonde hair messy. looking behind you, you reached for some napkins and cleaned yourself up before putting your bathing suit bottoms back up.

you threw the rest of the napkins at his face and pushed him away from you as you jumped off the ledge. “you’re such an asshole,” you muttered angrily as you stormed back off in the direction of the party. from behind you, you could hear jake calling your name as he jogged after you.

“fuck off, jake!” you yelled, not bothering to turn around as you moved faster.

when you got back to the party, you went up to the campfire where jay was still sitting, a bottle in his hands. “thanks for talking to me tonight, but i’m gonna head home actually,” you told him, trying to give him your best fake smile but it instead coming out in a half grimace. you heard your name being called and jay stood.

“i’ll walk you home,” jay said as he placed his bottle in the sand against the log. you nodded and the two of you quickly walked off.

the walk back to your house was silent. you mainly processed the series of events that just happened. how could you be so stupid? once again, you fell into jake’s trap. when will you learn?

you didn’t even realize you made it to the front of your aunt’s house, too lost in your own thoughts to notice your feet moving on their own, until jay said, “are you going to be okay?” you looked over to him in slight shock, thinking about his question for a moment.

shrugging, you responded, “i’m not sure yet. for now i will be, i guess. thanks for walking me home, jay. i really appreciate it.” jay gave you a nod, not entirely convinced. “anytime,” he spoke and watched as you walked up to the front door and entered the house.

you ran to the bathroom, wanting to rub your skin clean until it was raw. you stayed under the water for a while until it started to run cold and stayed for a little more after that, tears being washed away from the stream. when you did finally get out, you laid in your bed unable to sleep.

you phone was being blown up by jake and you just didn’t have the energy for him right now, so you turned your phone off. you didn’t want to hear anymore of his excuses—or truths, you still couldn’t decipher which was which. you just hoped that sleep would come to you soon and you wouldn’t dream of him.

when you woke up in the morning from a dreamless sleep, the first text your eyes saw as you checked the time on your phone was from jake. you sighed softly, telling yourself you’ll check the rest of his messages later. the message your eyes scanned was:

jake: meet me at our spot? i didn’t mean what i said. it wasn’t my intention for it to come off that way. please answer, y/n. i know you wake up around this time, so please meet me there when you see this.

you weighed his message in your head, deciding to ignore it entirely or to meet with him. after pacing around your room, you decided to meet with him. this was it—you were putting an end to everything. no more games. you were only going to meet with jake for closure, to finally see if his words have been truths or lies.

you got ready for the day, thankful that you didn’t have to work at the juice bar, and mentally hyped yourself up. you couldn’t let yourself be lured in by jake’s trap again; acting like a pushover for him. you wanted answers, not to lose yourself in his warm and inviting brown eyes. not to think about how good he made you feel last night—despite the memories clouding around your racing mind making your heart do flips.

leaving the house, you made your way down to the beach with newfound confidence.

when you reached the open cave-like entrance, you saw jake sitting in the sand lost in thought waiting for you. his eyes immediately snapped to your figure when he saw you approach. jake looked like he hadn’t slept, eyes rimmed red and dark circles sinking in his eyes. his blonde hair was in every direction as if he’d been running his fingers through it constantly and his plain shirt was wrinkled.

jake slid his phone that he was clutching into his pants pocket as he stood to his feet. hesitantly, you walked up to him, stopping a few feet short of him. you left your expression purposefully blank as you quirked a brow at him.

“i didn’t mean it like that,” jake started, taking a few steps towards you. he furrowed his brows and tilted his head to the side slightly.

“so how else did you mean it, jake? i’m tired of playing this game with you.”

jake sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “i mean—i did mean it like that,” he closed the distance between the two of you and grabbed your hands, effectively removing them from where they were sitting across your chest. jake slid his thumbs across them as he spoke.

“but not with you. i won’t lie and say that i don’t have a reputation—“

you cut him off, tone harsh as you pushed away from him. “a reputation of being a player? of stringing girls along; using their feelings for you against them to get in their pants? your reputation precedes you, jake, and i’m not going to be your next victim.”

“and you won’t be—that life, me being a player, it’s over. it’s in the past—canceled, i promise you. i meant what i said to you yesterday, baby. i want to be with you and i’m sorry for making you think that i didn’t.” jake stepped forward and cupped your face, tilting your head so you looked in his eyes and saw the sincerity in them. you exhaled softly and your eyes fluttered shut.

jake continued, “as soon as i got into that water, i immediately sobered up and knew i fucked up. i shouldn’t have spoken to you like that—shouldn’t have let my friends speak to you like that. that was really shitty. i’m so sorry.” you opened your eyes and they grazed across the cut on his lip from his fight with jay.

your arms hung limply at your sides as your mind struggled to come up with any thought whatsoever. it was silent for a moment. “you ignored me for a whole week straight. pretended that i didn’t even exist to you,” was all you managed to say.

jake sighed again and shut his eyes briefly like he was having an inner battle with himself. “my head has been everywhere this week, baby. i’m sorry. lifeguarding has been more taxing than usual and i’m really not in my right mind. the alcohol last night really didn’t help either, like i said.”

your eyes softened. it was just as you expected. “so why didn’t you tell me all of this? i could’ve helped you—been there for you!” your words were light, but your insistence made jake look up.

jake just shrugged, not knowing what to say. he settled on, “i didn’t know how to explain it all. i’m not that good at telling people how i feel—clearly.”

you rested a hand on his cheek, a small smile coming to your lips. “it’s something we can work on… why don’t we do something from our bucket list today? help get your mind off lifeguarding?” you suggested. jake’s face lit up and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

a cheeky smile played on jake’s mouth as he nodded and you rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest lightly. you pointed to the shallow water coming in from the ocean, “if you say skinny dipping i’m drowning you in the water over there!”

jake’s smile widened, a pretty laugh leaving his lips. it was a sound you could hear forever. “i wasn’t! i was gonna suggest we go stargazing.”

he pulled you closer to him and bent down towards you, breath fanning across your neck and his nose sending a shiver down your spine from the way it trailed along the skin near your ear. “but if you wanted to skinny dip i wouldn’t be opposed,” he whispered, voice dripping like honey.

you inhaled sharply at the way jake brushed his lips against your jaw ever so slightly. you didn’t even notice the way your grip tightened around his shirt at his chest. all you could think about was his lips at your core making you feel so good. better than you could ever do for yourself. the way his fingers reached deep inside you and pressed against spots that you couldn’t reach yourself no matter how hard you tried.

breath hitching, you tried to control your breathing as you let out a chuckle that you hoped sounded playfully annoyed, but instead came out as nervous as you felt. with all the strength you could muster, which was barely any at all, you pushed at his chest again and jake took a couple small steps back. that same wicked smirk from last night curled his lips upwards.

god, that smirk. if given the chance, you knew that jake sim would absolutely ruin you. you knew that he would worship every inch of your skin while completely defiling your innocence.

you subtly pressed your legs together at the thought of his hands wandering over your naked body and bit your lip at how it would feel when he finally slid into you. no, you couldn’t think such dirty things with him looking at you like he knew every thought running through your head right now.

you kept your eyes firmly on the grains of sand beneath the two of you until you were sure your thoughts were clear.

once the dignity started to come back to you, you slowly looked up at him. you plastered a playful smile on and raised your brows while crossing your arms across your chest. “you’re on timeout. so going skinny dipping—and whatever dirty little thoughts are running though your head with the idea—not happening. got it?”

you were definitely projecting with your statement, even if you both were most likely thinking the same things. jake’s wicked smirk remained on his lips, this time more playful than wicked. he raised a singular brow at you, head tilting subtly. he didn’t even need to speak for you to get the connotation.

we’ll see about that, won’t we?

you and jake spent the rest of the morning together, hanging around the beach taking various photos with your disposable camera, until you got called in to work to cover a shift. you had just finished cleaning the blenders at the juice stand when jake scared you, suddenly announcing his arrival while leaning across the counter with a shit-eating grin.

gasping loudly with a hand pressed to your heart, you took the hand towel you were holding and smacked him with it, making him laugh. you couldn’t help the smile that spread on your face at jake being here. your shift so far was boring, your friend hana wasn’t working today and nobody was really buying anything either. you desperately needed the distraction.

“what are you doing here?” you smiled, leaning across the counter in front of jake. your faces were mere inches away and jake closed the gap by pressing a kiss to your lips.

“i wanted to see you,” he replied, smile never leaving his face. that was, until jay showed up to order a drink.

“how are you, jay?” you asked as you started the process of his drink, turning slightly to look at him. he was soaking wet, no doubt just getting off one of his shifts. running a hand through his damp hair he breathed out harshly, smile not reaching his eyes as he shook his head a little.

“you know how lifeguarding is…” he trailed off. you gave him a sympathetic smile, definitely not knowing how lifeguarding is, but from your talk with jake earlier, you could only imagine.

jake shifted in his seat, turning to face jay. “yeah… i do,” he spoke. you glanced over to him as you poured jay’s drink in one of the to-go cups. jake’s mouth was pressed into a thin line and his eyes sharp. they were both deadly silent and you had the feeling they weren’t talking about lifeguarding.

slowly, you slid the drink you just made towards jay as your eyes flicked between the two of them. their staring contest was cut short by one of jake’s friend’s calling his name. reluctantly, he got up to meet them, eyes flicking to you before turning around. what was that all about?

jay’s eyes slid to you, a sigh escaping his lips. “i hope you know what you’re doing, y/n,” he said before handing you the money for his drink and standing from his seat. your brows furrowed in question but before you could ask what he meant, jay spoke again.

“there’s no winner in the player’s game. it’s best to know that before it’s too late.”

jay then left, leaving you with your mouth hanging open. your mind was surprisingly blank despite his words that you were desperately trying to process. to distract yourself, you began tidying up.

jake came back up to the stand just as you finished, his friend—sunghoon, if you remember correctly from his hurtful words at the beach party—following suit. your eyebrows were raised in slight shock as you tried to keep the scowl from off your face. jake said nothing, just waved his hand towards you while looking at sunghoon in a “well…” kind of way.

sunghoon sighed while leaning on the stand towards you. “uh… listen, y/n…” he looked towards jake in question and jake gave him a small nod without taking his eyes off you. sunghoon continued, “i was a real asshole for what i said at the beach party—real shitty. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

he scratched the back of his neck and his apology hung in the air for a moment. you smiled awkwardly, eyes flicking between him and jake. clearing your throat slightly, you responded, “t-thank you? i appreciate the apology.”

it was awkward for another few moments before jake finally broke the silence. “so…” he started, dragging out the vowel as he leaned more over the counter towards you. “will you be my date to the summer splash event?”

sunghoon scoffed while turning towards jake, hitting him on the shoulder. “dude, you haven’t even asked her yet? the event is next month!” he exclaimed. a sheepish smile took over jake’s face as he leaned back into his chair. you raised your brows at him.

“yeah, jake, why haven’t you asked me yet?” you teased. sunghoon mirrored your expression and the two of you stared a hole into jake. he sunk into his seat.

“i may… have forgotten about the whole thing…” jake murmured. you and sunghoon laughed at him, sunghoon shaking his head as he turned back to you.

“yes, i’ll be your date to summer splash,” you laughed, causing jake’s smile to brighten.

the three of you talked more before they left for sunghoon’s house. before they did, jake leaned across the counter to meet where you already sat halfway. “are we okay?” he asked near your ear in a hushed tone. you nodded, a genuine smile on your face which caused one to appear on his. jake then brought you in for a kiss, which was quickly cut short by sunghoon going, “ugh, get a room!”

heat spread throughout your face and chuckles escaped jake’s mouth as he pressed another kiss to your warm cheeks. he was then pulling out his disposable camera, turning his back to you and holding it up in the air.

“group picture!” jake shouted as he pulled sunghoon towards him. sunghoon rolled his eyes, but smiled for the picture nonetheless. you gave the camera an embarrassed smile as the flash went off. jake chuckled again, bringing your lips together briefly before running off with a disgusted sunghoon.

you: meet me at our spot? jake: already here, baby. you don’t even have to ask! you: rolling my eyes right now… bring the blankets!

a couple days later, you and jake had planned to watch the stars at your shared spot since you were both too busy the day you originally planned. according to jake, it was the best spot to see as many stars as possible in the small town. jake had beaten to you the spot, already having the blankets and even pillows set up right under the opening in the ceiling.

the moon shown perfectly from the opening, illuminating jake and the area he had set up. “hi,” you smiled, setting the basket of wrapped sandwiches onto the blanket and plopping down next to jake. you looked up towards the ceiling at the stars, a soft smile taking over your features.

“hi,” jake replied. he moved closer to you until you were almost cheek and cheek to look up at the stars as well. “i told you it’s the best place to see them,” he added quietly. you looked over to him, smile still on your face, and giggled. jake’s smile widened and he brought you in for a kiss.

the two of you watched the stars for a while in silence, apart from the rustling of one of you unwrapping a sandwich. at some point, the two of you had laid down onto the blankets and pillows, you tucked into jake’s side, head resting on his chest as his fingers lazily traced patterns onto your arm and hip.

“the whole world outside disappears when it’s just the two of us in here,” jake softly said, causing you to look up at him. his eyes were focused on the stars until he felt the weight of your stare. he looked down, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“you’re right,” you smiled at him, continuing your watch of the stars. “we’re the only people in the world in here.” jake’s fingertips were suddenly lifting your chin to look up at him. once you did, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

smiling against his lips, you kissed him again, sitting up on your elbow to kiss him better. the kiss deepened, so much so that you got the urge to swing your leg across his to straddle him. but before it could go any farther than a kiss, jake pulled away. you both were breathing heavily as you stared into each other’s eyes, lips barely brushing.

“will you be my girlfriend?” jake breathed, searching your eyes for your answer. you giggled a little. it was funny that he even had to ask you. the answer was always going to be yes.

you nodded, smiling widely, “i thought you’d never ask…” you lips connected with his again, this time more passionate than the first. jake sat up onto his elbows, eyes fluttering closed.

“i’m sorry i took so long,” he murmured against your lips.

this time you did give into your urge. throwing your leg over both of his, you wrapped your arms around his neck. jake’s arms immediately came to sit around your waist, pulling you closer to him until you were chest and chest. the kiss was feverish, desperate. it’s what you wanted to do ever since you had gotten to know each other.

fire burned in the pit of your belly and you were overwhelmed with the sudden need to have jake as close to your body as possible. you needed more than his lips on yours and his arms around your waist. you didn’t even realize you grinded down onto him until he broke away from your kiss to let out a small whimper, forehead pressed to yours.

he trailed hot kisses along your jaw and down your neck all while you grinded down against him again. you felt like you were on fire as his lips found yours again and it was the only thing you could do but pull away and take off your shirt.

jake’s eyes landed on your breasts and the lacy bra covering them, but you didn’t let them linger before you were pulling off his shirt as well, completely driven by desire. next you were shimmying off of him until the shorts you were wearing were off too, leaving you only in your bra and panties.

the rational part of your brain finally kicked in when you heard jake unbuckling his belt. you broke away from his kiss, suddenly aware of what the two of you were about to do. heat spread up your neck and across your cheeks and you whispered, “i told you, you’re on timeout.”

jake’s mouth fell open in a shocked smile, hands freezing in place. in order to cool yourself down, you pulled yourself away from him and stood to your feet. turning your back towards him, you made your way to the ocean, stripping off your bra and panties in the process until you were completely naked. you glanced back at him with a playful smile.

you stepped a foot into the water and immediately shuttered at how cold it was, but you made yourself walk the rest of the distance until you were submerged up to your shoulders. you turned towards the cove where jake still sat frozen. “are you coming?” you called, giggling to yourself at the bulge in his shorts.

“you’re such a tease,” jake called back playfully, standing to his feet. you laughed, more teeth chattering than actual laughter. when jake started pulling down his shorts, you averted your gaze, suddenly interested in the ocean horizon.

you heard the pitter-patter of jake’s footsteps and the slight splashing of water behind you as he came closer. “you put on such a show, but now you can’t even face me?” jake said in a husky voice against your ear, chest pressed against your back, causing a shiver to go directly down your spine and your heartbeat to pick up.

jake trailed a wet finger across your shoulder and you inhaled sharply, trying to gain your composure. turning to him, you replied, “if you can’t handle the heat, stay out of the game.” you threw his signature smirk back at him and he laughed, coming closer to you until your noses were brushing up against each other. you tried to ignore the brushing against your thigh, but it was growing harder the more seconds that passed. instead you cupped your hand in the water and lifted it to drip the water onto jake’s head, pulling another laugh out of him.

grabbing your chin, jake lifted your head to kiss you deeply, his tongue dancing in your mouth with yours. pulling away, jake smirked. “you’re going to eat your words once i’m finished,” he said lowly, pressing kisses to the skin beneath your ear.

jake pressed you closer to him, his body heat helping to warm you from the cold water. his lips trailed back up to your ear and he added, “get use to the feeling of your body shaking.”

if your body wasn’t on fire before, it definitely was now. jake’s lips were back on yours, this time rougher. you were sure he could feel your heartbeat racing from how close you were to him, feel the heat creep up your neck with how your bare bodies were against each other. when you pulled away to satiate your burning lungs, jake caught hold of your bottom lip between his teeth. he bit down softly, the corners of his mouth raising at your reaction before letting go.

you hid your face in his chest as he trailed open-mouthed kisses up your shoulder. you resisted the urge to shiver. “jake, i—“ you cut yourself off, too embarrassed to bring the topic up.

“has anyone ever touched you like this?”

jake’s fingers trailed down your sides, stopping just at your hips and you took a sharp inhale. you shook your head as jake continued his kisses, going from up your shoulder to the side of your mouth. “don’t worry, pretty,” he whispered huskily, lips lingering over yours before giving you a feather light kiss. “i’ll be gentle… i promise.”

he intertwined his hand with yours and guided you back to the rock structure where your abandoned late night picnic resided. you laid down onto the blanket, looking up at him with big doe eyes from where your head laid on a pillow. his eyes took in your body finally, eyes widening more at every exposed inch he could see. when they landed on your soaked pussy he smirked subtly.

jake climbed over you, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “are you sure you want this?” he asked you breathlessly. his eyes were squeezed shut and his brows were furrowed, like he was fighting the urge to not ravage you right then and there.

“yes… please. i’m ready,” you whispered.

eyes fluttering open, jake brought his lips to yours again. he then started to kiss down your body, making sure he kept eye contact with you. when you looked away, his gaze too intense, he would immediately stop and grab your chin to look back at him. “you don’t have to be nervous, baby. it’s just me.”

how could you not be nervous? the last time he was this close to your body was when he was eating you out at that beach party. and you were nervous then, too; never having someone attached to your core before. even then, you only remembered bits and pieces from the encounter—jake’s pretty mouth on your clit and the hazy sensation of his fingers inside you, stretching you out—you being too drunk to remember the full thing. this time you were completely, absolutely, sober with none of the confidence the alcohol gave you.

jake kissed right above your core, stopping with a smile against your skin. you thought he was going to speak, but he instead dove straight in, tongue flicking against your clit as his lips sucked.

you immediately moaned out, back arching off the soft fabric beneath you and head throwing back. you gripped the blanket tightly in your hands as jake wrapped his arms around your thighs to keep you from moving. he continued his motions, eyes never leaving you. your hand found his wet blonde hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you pulled at them. “please, jake!”

he hummed and you swear you saw stars, moaning loudly and trying to squirm away from his strong grip. “does that feel good?” jake asked you, breath fanning over your throbbing clit. all you could do was nod. “yeah?” jake asked, removing one of his hands from around your thighs.

his other hand rubbed at your clit with the pad of his thumb, sending jolts up your body, as the hand he freed teased at your entrance. you were a spluttering mess, desperate pleas for him to do something other than rub at your clit breaking the silence and clouding your thoughts. you barely even heard the chuckles that escaped jake’s lips as he kept teasing. he waited until you were practically writhing underneath his touch and begging him for more before he finally slid his fingers inside you achingly slow. you barely registered the slight pain, only the pleasure.

“you’re so pretty like this,” jake cooed.

you gasped as his fingers started to move, dragging against your gummy walls. the wetness making you dizzy and bringing tears to your eyes. jake’s pace only grew the more his fingers fucked into you, fingers curling and making your thighs tremble.

just as you moaned out a broken “g-gonna cum!” jake replaced his thumb running circles into your clit with his mouth, his tongue swirling around your poor clit. his hand went to hold your legs open when you tried to squeeze them together, the rope in your stomach about to snap.

when it did finally snap, you were gripping the blankets so hard that the clenching of your fingers started to hurt. you cried out, weakly trying to push jake’s head away with your other hand but getting nowhere. he didn’t stop, lips sucking your clit as squelching sounds emitting from your spent pussy with how your cum now dripped down his fingers still pushing in and out of your entrance.

the vibrations of jake’s laugh was like lighting throughout your body, shocking you to the core. you whimpered and jake finally pulled his lips away, satisfied with helping you ride out your high. he sat up on his knees and you looked up at him through half-closed eyes, brain foggy.

“you ready for more? baby?” jake asked before sticking his cum coated fingers in his mouth while staring down at you. he let out another hum, eyes fluttering closed briefly, “you taste so fucking good.”

you covered your face and sheepish smile with your hands and jake chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss on your lips once he was finished licking you up from his fingers. you could taste yourself on him. “are you ready?” jake asked and you nodded.

“words, pretty. i wanna hear you,” jake added, moving your hands away from your face. your body was on fire still, still reeling from your recent orgasm. jake pressed kisses to your cheeks.

“i’m ready,” you uttered meekly.

jake leaned back and now it was your turn for your eyes to trail along his body, not quite getting the chance when his head was between your thighs making you see other galaxies. his blonde hair fell in his eyes, which he dragged his fingers through to get out of his way. toned body still glistening from your dip naked in the ocean, making you want to run your fingers along the soft skin. and finally… his large hard cock hovering mere centimeters above your still throbbing pussy, precum leaking from his tip.

you didn’t know how you would fit all of him inside you, it barely looked like you could wrap your hand around him. but you were determined and you refused to back down. if you were going to have your first time with anybody, it would be jake sim.

“lift your hips for me, pretty.” your eyes snapped back to jake’s face to see he had dragged a pillow next to the both of you. you did as you were told, knees wobbling slightly, and jake slid the pillow under your hips. he pressed another kiss to your lower stomach.

jake held his leaking cock, looking up at you for confirmation one last time and you nodded. “this is gonna hurt for a second, okay? just take a deep breath.”

you inhaled deeply, waiting in anticipation and slight fear.

he lined the tip of his cock with your entrance, sliding it along your wet arousal and creamy white cum. slowly he began to push himself in and immediately you felt the stretch. you grimaced, resting your head back on the pillows. even with how wet you were with jake fingering you, and your previous release, jake was barely able to get his tip inside before you winced in pain.

“relax, baby, relax,” jake soothed as he kissed the inner part of your thigh. you tried to will your body to loosen up, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. jake rubbed his thumb slowly into your clit, glancing down at you with a look full of concern. you were no doubt squeezing the hell out of him, if it weren’t obvious from the small whimpers leaving his mouth as he slowly pushed in more.

after basically doing breathing exercises and jake giving you soothing kisses, he finally bottomed out, halting his movements so you can adjust to his length and thickness. you moved your arms from where they covered your tear-filled eyes and jake leaned down to kiss your cheek. “you’re doing so well for me, pretty. tell me when to move,” he said softly.

once you felt like you weren’t being split in half, you gave him the go-ahead. jake leaned back again. “do you feel it…” he started. his hand pressed down on your lower stomach and you gasped softly. “right here?” he continued.

you took your lip between your teeth and nodded, “yes… please start moving, jake.” you didn’t know how long you could stand the feel of him completely stretching you out and filling you up. it felt like you were going to burst any minute if he didn’t do something.

“you want it that bad? you’re not scared anymore?” jake grinned and you shook your head. “good, remember what i told you.” he slid his hands up your stomach to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your hardened nipples before settling back down at your hips.

you struggled to remember what he was talking about, you mind going entirely blank. all you could think about was his cock inside you, his hands all over your body, and how you felt everything. was it “i’ll be gentle… i promise,” or “get use to the feeling of your body shaking”? your mind started to spin with how both sentences contradicted each other.

jake grunted as he slowly slid halfway out. “fuck…” he groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs. “you’re so fucking tight—squeezing the shit out of me, baby.” he pushed in a little too fast and you moaned out, half pleasure and half pain.

he continued his slow pace, making sure he didn’t go too fast so he wouldn’t hurt you. your body finally relaxed, eyes rolling back and sensitive walls fluttering around jake’s cock. “faster,” you breathed.

“faster?” jake repeated and you could just hear his smirk. “you want me to fuck you faster?” without a response, jake’s hips snapped to yours. he pulled his cock out until just his tip remained in you. jake hummed, waiting for your reply.

“yes!” you cried out, back arching from the way his cock rutted so deeply into you. your breathing was heavy and your tongue was heavy as you tried to form more words. “y-yes, please fuck me faster,” you whined, speech coming out slurred as your hands clawed at the messy blanket beneath you.

jake leaned down to bring his lips to yours just as he rutted into you once more. you moaned against his lips, the sound cutting off as he kissed you rougher. jake continued pounding into you, not hard enough to hurt you but enough to make sure you felt every inch of him inside you. he took your lip between his teeth as he pulled away slightly before letting go. “f-fuck you drive me crazy. do you know how long i’ve been waiting to do this to you? fuck your perfect pussy like this?”

you barely registered his words, your blown out pupils staring at him hazily as you moaned louder each time his hips connected with yours. jake continued, his words slurring, “and to think that asshole almost had you…” jake let out a wry laugh in between his heavy breaths, his hips moving faster on their own accord. “you’re mine. all mine. can that asshole fuck you senseless like this?”

you bucked your hips up, shaking your head rapidly. you really didn’t know who jake was talking about, but that didn’t matter to you. he was right, nobody can fuck you like he can.

jake kissed you sloppily through your moans, breath hot on your cheeks as he occasionally pulled back for air with the way his chest rose and fell heavily. “that’s it, baby... fucking take it,” he moaned when your back arched again and his cockhead hit deeper. “you’re taking my cock so well. do you like how i split you open like this? do you feel how deep i’m fucking into you, pretty?”

tears streamed down your faces as you moaned out incoherent words, too dumb on jake’s cock to think straight. all you could do was nod and tell him to move faster, clawing at his shoulders until your nails dragged red lines down his back. you never needed someone as much as you needed jake. it was like a fever, making you burn red-hot until every thought consisted of him

you whimpered loudly, trying to press your legs together and squirm away but jake held you in a death grip—making sure your legs stayed spread and your knees stayed pressed to your chest. your thighs shook in his grasp as you twisted from side to side, a squeal leaving your parted lips. “g-gonna cum!” you spoke shakily, whimpers falling from your mouth.

“good, baby. let go for me. cum all over my cock,” jake gritted out, accent heavy, before throwing his head back in a moan. he muttered out curses as his pace increased slightly and then kissed you roughly. he kissed along your jaw and now to your neck, right where you were the most sensitive and leaving goosebumps in his wake. jake sucked pretty markings onto your skin, claiming you further as his.

you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, on the verge of hiccuping just as you felt the cord in your stomach begin to fray. with a particularly hard thrust, wet squelching sounds filling the nighttime air, the cord snapped and you were smearing warm cum all over jake’s cock.

the pillow beneath your hips prevented the cum from dripping out of you except when jake thrusted into you, dribbles of cum leaking out from around the base of his cock. jake leaned his forehead to yours, “f-fuck, baby. you’re taking my cock so well. you feel how well you’re pretty pussy is taking me? it’s l-like your pussy was made for my cock.”

you felt jake twitch inside you before he was filling you up with even more cum, the white liquid completely coating him as he fucked his cum back into you. your nails dug into his shoulders as you cried out from the overstimulation despite bucking your hips up to feel even more, unwrapping yourself from jake’s neck to grab a fistful of the blanket as you shook underneath him. “too m-much, jake! ah—“

jake kissed you hard, moaning softly against your lips. he pulled back and leaned back onto his knees, hand holding the base of his heavy cock that was still buried deep inside you. you managed to sit up on shaky elbows. your poor pussy was glistening with your arousal and painted white you and jake’s mixed cum.

you watched as jake slowly pulled out of you, creamy white liquid covering his softening cock, eyes fixed on how your pussy fluttered around the loss of him. the corners of his mouth pulled up into a wicked smile. you didn’t even notice how he had pulled out his disposable camera, nor the flashes of how fucked out your face looked and how completely ruined by him you were beneath the full moonlight. “good job, baby! i’m proud of how well you did,” jake leaned to kiss you, his cock sliding against your sensitive clit and making you jump. jake chuckled.

you beamed shyly, eyes avoiding his stare and instead focused on how his cum was still inside you. jake reached out his hands and you took them, slowly sitting up fully. his eyes focused on the way your mixed cum spilled down your thighs and dripped onto the blanket. “fuck,” jake murmured.

his eyes trailed up your body and to your swollen lips, his smile growing. you could see it in his eyes what he was thinking: you look the prettiest like this, defiled and my cum drilling out of you. jake kissed you again, softer than all of his previous kisses tonight.

“let’s get you cleaned up, pretty.”

“why are you walking so weirdly?” you mother’s voice startled you. you fiddled with the shear scarf you’re wearing. jake left a lot of love bites on you—most that you were able to cover with makeup but some that shone straight through it no matter how many layers of concealer you put on it. you didn’t really want your mom seeing that and asking a bunch of questions. it was also the height of summer and you could practically see the heatwaves in the air, so you didn’t really want to be sporting a turtleneck right now.

your voice comes out slightly unsteady, “what do you mean?”

your mom comes to stand in front of you, eying you up and down. her gaze flicks back to yours with an analytical look. “you’re walking like a duck. what’s wrong with you?” she questions.

racking your brain for a suitable and believable lie, you rush out, “oh, i just hurt my ankle a little bit on the walk to work yesterday...” her gaze widens. “but don’t worry, mom! it’s nothing serious. i’ve just been trying to not put as much pressure on it is all!” you quickly add.

you definitely weren’t telling her that you lost your virginity last night to the renown player in this small town and you walking funny was the result. no, that would be much too embarrassing. you straightened your walk a little, trying to make it seem like you were okay. you were glad your back was turned to her so it hid your wince of pain. maybe you shouldn’t have told jake to go so fast on your first time…

“we’ll make sure you ice it or something, you don’t need it getting worse,” your mother said before leaving the kitchen, mug in hand. you sighed in relief to yourself as you finished getting ready for work.

jake met you halfway on your journey and you smacked his arm hard whenever he came up next to you. “ow!” he laughed, cradling his arm. “what was that for?”

“that was for making me walk funny and leaving all kinds of love bites all over my skin that i had to try and hide!” you exclaimed, pointing at your neck with a pout. jake laughed, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

you pouted again, “you said you’d be gentle!”

jake pulled down the scarf you were wearing with his free hand. he pressed kisses to your neck, right where the marks were, causing you to squirm away from him from the sensitivity. “i’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “but you did tell me to go faster.”

you rolled your eyes at him and he laughed more. jake leaned down, his lips brushing up against the shell of your ear. “and i did say to get use to the feeling of your body shaking,” he added huskily, accent thick.

“besides, you should see the red lines and crescent marks you left all over my back. i’m a lifeguard, i can’t just put makeup and a scarf over it!” jake mumbled. you laughed at him.

the tank top he was wearing told you he clearly didn’t care if others saw the marks you left. it’s almost as if he wanted to show them off. the two of you continued your walk.

[ YOU HAVE TO SAY “GOODBYE” — 3RD MONTH ] ✈︎ thirty-one days until you return home.

you sighed deeply as you stretched out your tired joints after a particularly long shift. the sun was blaring on your skin all day and despite the thin clothing of your work uniform, it did nothing to save you from the heat. you desperately just wanted to meet up with jake so the two of you could go swimming before the afternoon sun went down.

in the distance down the boardwalk you caught sight of jake. a smile spread it’s way across your face as you excitedly called out to him. jake didn’t seem to hear you, instead turning the corner to where the water fountains were located. you quickened your step as you tried to catch up with him.

you were just about to call his name again as you turned the corner before you froze in your spot. the smile completely dropped from your face and you tucked yourself against the corner of the wall as your eyes widened at the scene in front of you.

jake and hana stood just a few feet from you. hana was pressed against him, arms lifting to wrap around his neck while one of his lingered around her waist, just barely hovering over the bare skin of her torso.

“oh? but you kissed me, so you obviously still have feelings for me!” you heard hana exclaim.

you moved to lean against the wall away from them, pressing your back to the cool bricks. you felt like your world was coming down around you, once again. how stupid—how foolish of you to believe jake. your chest rose heavily as you tried to catch your breath. and what did hana mean by “still”? was she one of his exes this whole time?

suddenly everything started to fall in place. hana’s constant encouragement of you ending things with jake under the guise of being a “good friend”. jake never coming to see you at work when hana was working the same shift as you. your eyes widened as you finally understood why jake was acting weirdly towards you the week leading up to the beach party.

it was hana he saved from drowning. the very same hana you told him was your good friend. you felt so stupid. you tried hard to keep the tears from brimming in your eyes.

you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself off the wall and another as you steadied yourself to go up to them. “—to mouth, …psycho!” you heard jake say distantly, but the drumming in your ears overtook his words.

you stormed up to them and as soon as jake saw you he jumped five feet away from where he and hana were pressed up against each other. a nervous smile quickly appeared on his face and his mouth opened to speak before he got a good look at the state you were in. the smile fell from his face. “y/n, listen to me… it’s not—“

“you know what, i should’ve listened when people kept telling me you were a fucking player,” you swiftly cut him off, venom dripping from your voice with so much ferocity that it shocked even you. “you never cared about me, did you?”

jake opened his mouth again, eyebrows knitting together, but you didn’t let him speak. “is our spot even our spot, or is that where you take all the girls you want to sleep with? make them feel special and like they’re the only girl in the world for a night before tossing them to the side?”

“nobody knows about that place but you. you’re the only one who knows about it, i swear, y/n. and i’m not playing you or tossing you aside. please, let me expl—“ jake started.

“some people are just made for each other and some people aren’t! and clearly… you and jake aren’t meant for each other,” hana butted in, swinging her attention towards you with a smug smirk. it was like she was a completely different person now that the mask was taken off. she put a hand on your shoulder, “i’m your friend, take it from me!”

you harshly shrugged her off, causing her to scoff loudly. you glared at her fiercely. “shut the fuck up, hana!” you and jake spit out at the same time.

you refused to let the hurt creep into your voice, refused to let the two of them win against you. “i thought you were my friend, hana? how could you? the whole time you were only in my ear to try and give yourself the advantage. you’re both pieces of shit,” you said while staring daggers at her. you attention turned to jake.

it was almost impossible to not let the hurt show through. you had really tried, but looking into jake’s eyes was the last nail in the coffin. his eyes were glossed over and he went to reach for you but you backed away. “all you wanted from me was to get your dick wet. you’re such a fucking asshole, i never should’ve let myself get close to you. never should’ve found that stupid spot and never should’ve met you. all it caused was trouble,” you finally spoke, voice quiet as the tears slipped from your eyes.

you turned to leave but jake grabbed your wrist, you refused to turn and back and look at him. if you did, you knew you wouldn’t be able to stand your ground because despite everything, you still wanted to be with him.

“y/n… please,” jake breathed, his voice breaking.

you roughly yanked your wrist from his grasp and more tears fell from your eyes. “you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way of your game anymore. i’ll be gone by the end of the month and we’ll never see each other again. we’re done, jake.”

you inhaled sharply, pushing down a sob as you quickly walked away from the two of them. behind you, jake kept calling your name, but it only pushed you to go faster until you were running. tears blocked your eyes as you let your feet guide you home.

your body collided with a hard chest and you looked up, sniffling and wiping your tears. “what happened?” jay asked as he steadied you.

all you wanted was to be in the comfort of your bed right now. you couldn’t help the broken sob that left your mouth. “you were right… there aren't any winners in the player’s game. i get that now. thanks for telling me, jay,” you pushed out quickly before hurriedly making your way home.

you pushed through the front door and immediately ran over to where your mother stood half in shock. she wrapped her arms around you, her hand rubbing comforting circles in your back. “oh honey, what is it?” she asked softly between your wracked cries.

you just wished this day never happened.

two weeks have passed since you’ve last seen jake. two weeks have passed since you last saw anybody, really. you’ve mainly stuck to the confines of your mother’s childhood bedroom crying until you no longer had any tears to cry. you laid curled up in your bed, completely numb.

your family, especially your worried mother, tried checking up on you to see what happened but you just kept saying the same thing over and over again, “i’m fine.” or at the very least, you will be once you’re back in your hometown and far away from this one. there was only a little over two more weeks left and then you’ll be rid of all this drama for good.

a little over two more weeks and you’ll never have to see or even think about jake sim ever again.

half of you is finally ready to go home. it was funny how you thought this place would give you a pseudo fresh start. the other half of you… it wants some type of closure.

for the two weeks you’ve been tied to this bed you’ve debated on if you wanted to give jake one last and final goodbye. not for him, but for you. to close this chapter of your life once and for all. you sighed as you heard your phone buzz again.

jake: i know you said you needed space, but please let me explain everything. jake: i promise you nothing happened between me and hana. jake: or any other girl besides you for that matter. jake: please talk to me, y/n.

he’s been texting and occasionally calling you since you left him and hana to their own devices two weeks ago. you haven’t answered a single call or message from him. at first, you read every message that came through and listened to every voicemail, but listening to his voice, accent filled with sadness and guilt, made you feel worse.

you ignored the buzzing as a knock sounded on your door. you didn’t have the energy to move from the blank, white wall you were staring at, nevermind talk, so the knocker entered without a word. the bed dipped beside you and a hand was placed on your shoulder.

“honey, there’s lunch downstairs if you’re hungry,” you mother spoke, softly. you said nothing. you heard her defeated sigh as she stood to her feet.

“mom?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper, as you turned to her. you caught a glimpse in the mirror of your red-rimmed puffy eyes. you looked like you went through the ringer. your mom froze briefly before turning back to you with a hopeful smile. “can we catch an early flight back home?” you continued.

your mother’s smile faltered slightly, but she nodded sadly. just then, another knock was heard. this time you recognized it as the front door. your mom gave you one last sad smile before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her. you went back to staring at the same blank, white wall. a moment later your mother came back.

“it’s for you.”

you sighed softly and pulled yourself up from the bed. you felt like a zombie with your red eyes and dark circles and pajamas that hung limply off your body as you made the trek to the front door. with another sigh, you opened it, breath catching in your throat.

jake stood on the other side, blonde hair looking like he hasn’t brushed it a day in his life and the same red eyes and dark circles as you. he had dark brown roots sprouting from his scalp, despite him always making sure to keep them touched up. he looked rough, but you suppose you didn’t look any better.

“y/n…” jake breathed, like he couldn’t actually believe he’d ever see you standing in front of him again.

in the corner of your vision you saw your mom exit down the hallway to her room, giving the two of you some privacy. you didn’t hear anyone else in the house, so your aunt and cousin must’ve been out. you resisted the urge to slam the door shut in jake’s face. “i don’t want to see you,” you spoke sternly, a bite in your tone.

“i won’t be able to live with myself if you leave believing in a lie. please hear what i have to say,” jake pleaded.

you squeezed your eyes shut as you fought back tears. seeing him was too much. everything, every emotion came slamming against you like a tsunami and you wobbled on your feet. you inhaled a shaky breath and opened your eyes as tears fell from them. “i. don’t. care. i don’t care what you have to say, i don’t want to hear it!” you shuddered, voice progressively getting louder as more and more tears fell from your eyes and his.

you shut your eyes again and focused on steadying your breathing. a hand came to rest on your upper-back. “i think you should go,” you heard your mother’s voice say protectively. you didn’t open your eyes again until you heard jake’s retreating footsteps. only then did you see his defeated retreating figure.

your mom pulled you into a hug and shut the door, effectively blocking your view of jake. you buried your face in her chest as a sob overtook your whole body. your mother held you close, rubbing comforting circles in your back.

the next day you couldn’t get the vision of jake at your doorstep out of your mind. it’s all you thought about all night. the tears that fell from his eyes and his defeated stance as he ushered away. you decided on the half of you that wanted closure.

you: meet me at your spot.

despite you sending that message as you were already halfway there, jake was still there before you like he always was. he was pacing around when you entered, looking even worse than he did yesterday. when he turned and saw you, he immediately started, “y/n, i—“

you held up a hand to stop him. you didn’t come here to hear his excuses. “don’t speak,” you said, and you sounded so done with the world. like nothing even mattered anymore. “i’m not here to hear whatever excuses you’ve come up with, i’m here merely for closure.”

jake’s brows furrowed as you talked and his shoulders slumped. a look of confusion rang loudly on his face as he tried to piece together what you were saying. “i’m going back home early—a couple days from now, actually. so this is goodbye, jake.” you turned to leave but he grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“wait…” jake murmured with a pleading gaze. he pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and pressed it into the hand that held your wrist until your grip tightened around it. you looked down briefly and looked back up at jake with a melancholic look.

“please,” jake begged, voice a whisper. “please don’t go.”

you shook your head at him and went to pull your wrist from his grasp but he held on tighter, refusing to let you slip through his fingers again. “what about the rest of our bucket list—summer splash? we were supposed to go together… and i was supposed to show you more of the hidden spots around town—you can’t leave yet, y/n. you can’t.”

you looked away from him and the way his voice broke as he spoke to you. you pulled your wrist again to escape the shaking from his hands. this time you were able to break free. you shook your head again, “goodbye, jake.”

you didn’t look back at him as you sped away, over the rocks and through the warm sand as tears fell once again from your eyes. you knew if you did you’d stay, and you just didn’t know how much more heartbreak your heart could take. you had to leave, there was no other option. if you looked back at him, you would’ve stayed forever.

as you and your mother packed your things for your upcoming flight, the letter jake gave you burned a hole through your brain from how much you were thinking about it. the feather-light paper weighed a ton of bricks everytime you picked it up that you stuck it in the pocket of your suitcase to hopefully forget about it. you didn’t.

it was all you could think about as you said your goodbyes to your family and as you entered the airport to wait for your flight. you didn’t want to read it, but a part of you had to know what the contents of the letter were.

you slipped the letter out of the pocket it was in as you were boarding your flight, making sure to keep a tight hold of it so you wouldn’t lose it anywhere. only when your mother had fallen asleep did you unfold it and read jake’s words, inhaling sharply as your eyes scanned the first line.

to my love, my one and only,

i’ve never really written a letter to someone before. as i told you, i’m not really the best at expressing my emotions, but i’ve run out of options to get my feelings across to you. i really do hope you read this.

where do i start? from the beginning, i guess… when i pulled you out from the water, you were the prettiest girl i had ever seen. i’ll admit that then, i only saw you at face value. i only saw what you could do for me, and not you as a person. but then i thought that it was fine because it was likely that i’d never see you again, until i saw you at our spot.

something in my brain just automatically clicked and i had to get to know you; know your name and all of your interests and hobbies and every single little mundane thing about you. i just knew i had to know you. put aside my ways and be someone worthy of even being your friend. so that’s what i did, or at least, that’s what i tried really hard to do. it turns out when you’ve screwed over as many people as i did, karma comes to bite you in the ass quick.

but even then, i couldn’t help falling in love with you. i wanted to spend every waking moment with you, just breathing the same air. unfortunately, that didn’t stop me from fucking up repeatedly. i got jealous, and albeit—even a little possessive, and got out of line. i really hurt you and words can’t describe how sorry i am.

i’ll say it once, and i’ll say it a million more times if i have to. i meant what i said when i told you that you’re the only want i wanted. not hana, not some random other girl, you. you’re the one i want, the one that i desperately need, and now you’re slipping through my fingers because of my own dumb actions.

i should’ve been honest with you and maybe things wouldn’t have ended like this. i’m sorry that hana and i’s past ruined our relationship, and i’m sorry that i let so many things come between us to ruin it as well.

about two years ago, hana and i dated. it didn’t last very long, only four months, but she’s made my life hell ever since trying to get back with me. no, i didn’t cheat on her or anything of that sort, we just didn’t click. and i don’t know if it was my reputation or what, but she’s been trying to tell me in any way she could that that was a mistake.

i don’t know how much you overheard, but none of it was true. she cornered me and wrapped herself around me, saying how i must’ve still had feelings for her since we “kissed.” the kiss in question being me giving her mouth to mouth and saving her life. i told her that she was a psycho to think that mouth to mouth—saving a person’s life—was kissing. that’s when you found us.

i would do anything to fix this, anything for another chance with you. prove to you that i’m someone you can be with and not have to worry about what my next move will be. if i’m being completely honest—and i’m not saying this to try and manipulate you or anything, so please don’t take it that way—but over the course of the summer i really have fallen for you, y/n. with these unfortunate circumstances, it made me realize that i love you, i really do. and i’ll fight for you, because our relationship can’t end on this note. i refuse.

i’m so sorry for everything i’ve done and everything that has happened because of me. and the worst part is, i’m not sure if i’ll ever even be able to tell you any of this in person. i’m not even sure if i’ll ever even see you again, but i have have hope that i will. like the poets say, or whatever, two people who are meant to be will always find a way back to each other. and we are meant to be.

no matter how long it take, i’ll wait for you.

i’m also sorry for this shitty fucking letter, i tried to be all poetic and in tune with my emotions, but i got do clue how to do any of that shit. i hope my emotions still shine through, though. i love you.

always yours, jake

you clamped a hand over your mouth as you suppressed your sobs, looking at the letter through your now blurry vision. you didn’t know how to feel, if you were being honest with yourself. it took your mind a while just to process everything he was saying. the one thing that stuck with you at the moment was the fact that he loved you. jake loved you, and you were coming to the startling realization that you loved him too.

you’ve never loved anyone romantically, but the feeling was undeniable as anything but. you loved him and he loved you.

tucking the letter neatly and safely into the pocket of your carry-on bag, you tried to focus on everything that has happened this summer. tried to name every emotion that came up and categorize every thought. you still didn’t come up with an inkling on how to feel. even if jake’s words were true, which you suspect they were, that doesn’t change all the hurt he put you through because of his selfishness.

but still, you regretted ending everything how you did. now you were millions of miles in the air far away from where jake was and the only thought in your head was how you missed him already. how you wished you kissed him one last time.

how you wished you were next to him laying under the stars where the rest of the world melted away.

but it was too late. you had already made your decision, and you had no choice but to stick with it.

∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ] all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

🏷️﹙ want to be added to my permanent taglist? click here ﹚ @wonoclock @ericssunflower @laurradoesloveu @gizellesaeriaaaa @ghstzzn @nosungluv @minniejenseo @jaklvbub @shiningnono @wonyoungsvirus @cafeyuns @francinethings23 @riksaes @seunghancore @mitchii @jvjsssnaa @ilovejungwonandhaechan @notevenheretbh1 @meowmeowjang @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @yeonjunsfox @nxzz-skz @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @jeonghaniehaee @todorokiskitten @aaa-sia

2K notes · View notes