#so i had to pull myself away from the fic and do Adult Things

[ariestrxsh]

sub!pizzaboy!chris x customer!reader

🍕 content warning: smut, oral (m! & f!receiving), praise, masturbation, edging, fingering, unprotected sex, age gap (both characters are adults)

🍕 summary: your delivery boy, chris, is used to getting away with everything due to his dashing good looks, but it does him no good when he tries to resist your magnetic charm. when he arrives with your meat lovers earlier than expected, you're hungry for more than just the pizza.

if it's cheesy, it's because i wanted it to be 🧀 may this fic make you cum whilst you laugh at my stupid wordplay

dividers by idkk?? i saved them forever ago and forget where i got them from; if you know who made them, lmk so i can give credit !

Pizza Guy

chapters: | intro | 1 |

It was a cool, late-autumn evening, the wind rustling through the falling dead leaves and the temperature slowly dropping with every day that winter neared. You were at home, lounging in a silk pajama set on your couch, curled up with a book and a glass of wine while you were waiting for the pizza you'd ordered to arrive.

Suddenly, a knock at the door broke your attention away from the page and brought you back to the present moment. You glanced over at the clock. Surely, that couldn't have been the pizza. You weren't expecting it for another half-hour.

You pulled open the door to reveal a cute blue-eyed brunette in his work uniform who greeted you with a sweet smile. He was a few inches taller than you but looked to be a few years younger than you, and he had this innocent demeanor about him that immediately sparked your interest.

You wet your lips as your gaze scanned the delivery boy's features. You were drawn to his captivating eyes, his pink cheeks, and his pouty lips. "Hello, ma'am. I have your meat lovers pizza with extra Italian sausage," he said, double-checking the box he held in his hands.

"You're gonna hate me. I left my wallet upstairs," you stuck your bottom lip out at him in a little frown. "Oh, that's fine, ma'am. I can wait here," he kindly responded, the corners of his mouth turning up again. "Aren't you gonna get cold out here?" You asked, giving him a sympathetic look. "I'll be alright," he shrugged, his eyes dancing over your attractive features.

"I can't make you wait out in this weather, sweet boy. Why don't you come inside?" You replied in a nurturing tone as you crossed your arms, pushing up your breasts and revealing your hardening nipples that were straining against the soft fabric of your silk button-down.

"I don't think I should," he softly answered even though he was contemplating it, his eyes drawn towards your chest. "I'm not even standing out there, and I'm freezing. What if you catch a cold because of me? I couldn't live with myself," you said in an endearing voice as you ran your fingertips along your arm, trying to warm up.

He knew it was against store policy to enter a customer's home, but he figured he could bend the rules just this once. After all, the only thing providing his hands warmth was the pizza box he was holding, and the tip of his nose was growing red from the biting chill. He nibbled on his lip and nodded, accepting your generous offer and hesitantly stepping into your home.

"Make yourself comfortable," you told him, letting him in. You turned around to retrieve your wallet from upstairs, and Chris' stare migrated to the way your ass jiggled in your silk bottoms as you hurried up the steps. He couldn't help himself. You were just so hot. He glanced at the fancy bottle of red wine you had sitting on your coffee table along with the romance novel that laid beside it.

He wondered what a gorgeous woman like you was doing on a Saturday night, drinking alone and reading a book about love instead of making it.

You trotted back down the steps with your wallet in hand, sights fixed on the boy standing in your cozy living room who immediately noticed you'd undone the top two buttons of your shirt while you were upstairs. He knew exactly what you were doing, but he couldn't entertain it. It was a weekend, and he knew there would be plenty of pizzas to deliver and a lot of money to make.

"What's your name, baby?" You wondered as you reached into your wallet to count your bills. "Chris," he replied, loving the pet names you called him. "Alright, Chris. How much do I owe you, sweetie?" You asked, peering into his gorgeous blue eyes. "Um, $19.69," he blushed, clearing his throat and looking down at the price on your receipt he had pinned between his thumb and the box.

You smirked at him, pulling two $20 bills out of your wallet. "Here's for being so patient with me," you leaned in and whispered into his ear as you hooked two of your fingers into Chris' front pocket and slowly slid the cash in. While your were leaned in so closely, you could feel the heat radiating from his body and you picked up on the scent of pepperoni and hint of weed that lingered on his clothing.

"Thank you, ma'am. That's so generous. I don't know if I can accept that much," he replied, feeling all the blood rush to the tip of his cock as you flirted with the idea of breaking the touch barrier but not doing so just yet. "Sure, you can. You deserve it." You took the pizza box from him and placed it gently on your coffee table.

"You should stay a little longer. I'll make you a cup of hot chocolate, and you can warm up a little before you have to go back out into the cold," you offered, licking your lips while you examined his softening expression. "I should really get back to the shop," Chris said, breaking eye contact and trying to exercise self-control.

"Oh, come on. Stay for one cup of hot cocoa, sweet boy. You can just tell your boss you had trouble finding my house. Do you like it made with milk or water?" You asked, not giving him another chance to decline your proposition.

His gaze flickered back up at yours. He had your money. He could have easily excused himself and gone back to work, but he was secretly hoping for an excuse to stall and spend a little more time with you.

"Milk," he softly responded, completely in a trance with your caring nature. "You want whipped cream on top, baby? And marshmallows?" You cooed. "Yes, ma'am. Both please," he nodded, accepting your kind gesture. "Have a seat, Chris. Have a piece of pizza," you motioned towards the couch as you stepped into the kitchen to warm up some milk.

"How long have you been a delivery boy?" You asked, lighting the front left burner of your stove. "About a year," Chris replied, plopping down onto the sofa and reaching into the box to grab a slice. "Yeah? You make good money?" You inquired, fillling up a pot with milk. "Yeah, about $150 a night," he told you with his mouth full of pizza.

"Wow. That's a lot of money for this area. It must be because you're so timely and polite. And so handsome," you casually added, peeking up at him. He blushed and gave you a shy smile. "Oh, I don't know about that," he humbly replied. "Sure you are. You're cute, and you know it, too," you smirked at him. He took another big bite of pizza.

"So, do you always come quick?" You asked him. "Excuse me?" he politely answered you, nearly choking on his food and raising his eyebrows, unsure if he heard the question correctly. "I mean, when you're delivering pizza. Do you always arrive so quickly? I wasn't expecting you for another thirty minutes," you said, your eyes shifting between the boy on your couch and the clock on the wall. "I drive fast," he smiled.

"You really care about pleasing the customer, don't you?" You insinuated, bringing over the cup of hot chocolate. Your fingertips gently grazed his as you passed him the warm, ceramic mug. "Yes ma'am. I do. I live for it," he said in a submissive tone, glancing up at you.

"You ever get pulled over because you were driving too fast?" You wondered, raising an eyebrow at him and taking a seat on the couch beside him. "A handful of times, but it's always by the same officer in the same area I drive through. She always gives me shit, runs my license, registration, and insurance, and the whole bit, but she always lets me off with a warning," Chris replied before taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

"Mmmm, this is good," Chris said, licking the whipped topping off his lip. "Oh, baby. You missed a spot," you chuckled, moving a bit closer and gently running the pad of your thumb against the smudge and cleaning it off his upper lip while you stared deep into his eyes. You slowly licked the sugary cream from your thumb and grinned at him. He secretly liked the way you babied him and how in touch you were with your maternal instincts.

He took a few more sips of his chocolatey drink, savoring the warmth and sweetness it provided. "How much longer is your shift?" You wondered, studying his jawline and his full lips. "I close tonight, so at least another six hours," he gave a disappointed half-smile. "Awh. I can't believe they're making you work late on a Saturday night," you gave him a little frown. "It's alright. It's good money," he replied, drinking more of his hot cocoa.

"You know, I really appreciate the tip, the slice of pizza, and the hot chocolate, but I really should get going," Chris replied, setting the nearly empty mug on the coffee table. "Oh, sweet boy. Look at your pants. They're a mess," you chuckled, brushing crumbs off of his lap and gently grazing his cock that twitched in response to your light touch.

"Ma'am, you're making this very hard for me right now," Chris said in a serious tone, grabbing your wrist and looking into your eyes. "What am I making hard for you, baby?" You cooed. "I know what you're doing," Chris looked at you with his submissive eyes.

"Then why don't you let me keep doing it? I'll take good care of you, darling," you placed a hand on his cheek, cradling his face and searching for the answers in his expression to get him to stay. "It wouldn't be right.." he started to say, but his voice trailed off and he loosened his grip on your wrist as you leaned in, closing the distance between his lips and yours. You pulled him into a trance with your deep, passionate kiss, swirling your tongue around in his mouth.

"Says who? Isn't the customer always right? Don't you wanna leave me satisfied, baby?" You asked him, nudging his chin up with your nose, exposing his throat, and planting a soft kiss on the side of his neck. Chris was such a sucker for neck kisses and pleasing the customer. He couldn't stop you now. He wanted you too badly and so desperately craved to satisfy you.

"What would I even say?" Chris wondered out loud, racking his brain for an excuse to get out of the rest of his shift but getting distracted by your luscious lips. "I'm sure you'll think of something," you mumbled, pressing your tongue against a sensitive spot on his neck and giving him another passionate kiss.

"I can't think about anything except how amazing your mouth feels," Chris whimpered, giving into the sensation. "Give me your cellphone," you said, pulling away and holding out your hand. "What for?" He asked you, hesitantly reaching into his pocket and placing it in your palm. You handed Chris back his phone after dialing the number to his work and tapping the speaker button.

"Just tell your boss you got a flat tire or something, and that you can't come back to work for the rest of the night. I'll make it worth your while," you seductively suggested, whispering as you gently nibbled on his ear. He let out a soft moan as your teeth grazed his earlobe. "Hey, Chris. What's up? You've been gone a while. You find the delivery address?" A man answered the phone, recognizing Chris' caller ID.

"I got kind of lost on the way there, but I eventually found it. Um, I actually called because someone slashed my tires when I stopped to take a leak. Could you put a manager on so I can explain the situation?" He asked, trying to keep his composure as your lips traveled back to his neck, sinking your teeth into his sensitive flesh. He bit down on his lip to suppress another moan.

"Of course. Give me a sec. I'm gonna put you on hold," the guy on the other end of the line replied. You grabbed the hem of Chris' work shirt, pulling it up and off over his head, disheveling his hair while you did so. "I can't believe you have me doing this right now," he whispered as you fell to your knees in front of him. You smirked up at him, your hands reaching for his belt.

"What are you doing?" He whispered, looking down at his lap wide-eyed, the sound of the metal clanking against itself as you unbuckled it. "You just get so many nice tips, I thought maybe you could spare one," you chuckled. "While I'm on the phone with my boss?" He peered down at you in disbelief. "Let's see how well you can hold it together," you smirked.

"Oh my god. I don't usually mix business and pleasure in this manner, ma'am," he innocently whispered as you reached into his underwear. "You can save the I don't usually do this talk for someone else, because guess what? You're already doing it," you giggled. He sharply inhaled as you pulled out his half-erect cock.

"Wow, it's so big, and it's not even all the way hard yet," you gasped, taking it into your hand and slowly beginning to stroke his shaft.

It was long and veiny, and the head was pink, smooth, and already beginning to swell with arousal. He was so flattered by the way you lovingly looked at it, gently petting it and causing more blood to flow to it. He peered down at you with hungry eyes and a lustful expression.

"Chris? Someone slashed your tires?" A woman spoke into the phone as you slowly licked from the base of his length, stopping right where the heads meets his staff. Chris' jaw dropped and his breath hitched in his throat as he watched the way you teased him. His cock, that had now grown to its full size, twitched at the sensation of your heavenly tongue, and a bit of pre-cum gushed from his slit.

"Chris?" The woman said again, sounding agitated. "Yes ma'am," Chris said in a strangled voice as you began spiraling slow licks around the tip, cleaning up the clear fluid. "Chris, are you stoned right now? You know, we've talked about this. If it were anyone else, I would've fired them on the spot after the first time. You're just such a hard worker and get such good reviews-" his boss started to scold him.

"No, no. Nothing like that, ma'am. I'm just shaken up. That's all," Chris cut her off, trying to keep his composure while he stared down at the way you flickered your tongue over his slit. Her tone immediately changed. "Awh, Chris. I'm so sorry I accused you of being high on the job. Do you need a ride home, sweetie?" She tenderly asked him.

"No, ma'am. I appreciate it. I already got one. I just wanted to call to let you know I can't get new tires until tomorrow, so I won't be able to finish my shift," Chris managed to get out before a small sigh escaped his lips and his head fell back as you worked your magical tongue on him. "Of course. Let me know if you need anything, Chris," his manager relayed in a tone you swore was almost seductive. "Anything at all," she emphasized, the desperation in her voice coming through.

He was so mesmerized by the way you sheathed his marble-smooth, pink head between your soft lips that he nearly forgot he was on the phone. "Chris?" His manager broke him out of his trance. "Yes. Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate that," Chris responded, staring down and nodding at you as you started to move your lips down his length, taking more of him into your mouth, massaging the backside of his dick with your tongue.

"Good night, Chris. Do whatever you need to do to relax," she said, definitely picturing him masturbating. "Good night, ma'am," Chris replied before concluding the call just in time for a guttural moan to pass through his lips and fill the room. You paused for a moment, taking Chris' dick out of your mouth with a faint pop, creating a wonderful suction for his nerve endings.

"Are you fucking her?" You narrowed your eyes at him and gave him a smirk. "My boss?" He asked with a surprised inflection, raising his eyebrows. You nodded at him. "No, ma'am. I swear I'm not," he quickly shook his head. "Well, she wants you to," you smiled. "Anything at all," you mockingly exaggerated her desperation. "I know. She's so obvious about it," Chris smirked down at you as you made his cock disappear behind your lips again.

He could finally enjoy the way you gently suckled on it, rolling your tongue around on his tip, and he didn't have to hold back his delighted noises anymore. Whimpers escaped his lips, one cascading after the other, filling the room with the sweet sound of his pleasure. He started to comb through your hair with his fingers as he sank further into the couch and further into his desire to fill your mouth with his seed.

"You work so hard, always taking care of everyone, but at the end of the day, who takes good care of you, hmm?" You cooed, stroking his length. He moaned loudly at your words. "Good boy. Enjoy it. You deserve it," you whispered before teasing the head with your tongue again.

"Ma'am, I don't know how much more I can take," he looked down at you lustfully, studying how you encircled the head with your licks. His dick involuntarily jerked again, a reflex to the way you intuitively knew what he liked. "I know you can take it, and you're going to," you whispered seductively. "Yes, ma'am," he whimpered as you took more of him into your mouth, sliding your lips all the way down until his tip hit the back of throat.

You loved how respectful he was even when he was on the brink of orgasm.

He clawed at the seat cushion underneath him, a desperate attempt to keep himself from finishing too soon. He thoughtfully watched your every move, thoroughly enjoying every subtlety of your technique that was becoming sloppier and messier. "Please, I need to cum," he whined, furrowing his brow, wetting his lips, and looking down at you with carnal desire in his eyes.

But you couldn't give into him just yet. You wanted to hear the desperation seeping into his tone of voice and see the neediness carved into his expression before you even thought about letting him finish.

"You don't understand how bad I need it," his luscious voice poured into the room. You carried on, ignoring his pleas to cum and fervently bobbing your head up and down on his cock some more. His moans became more strained as you continued to make him hold out, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes.

"Look at me, baby," you ordered him before you resumed manipulating all his tender nerve-endings. He loved the way you bossed him around, obediently following your directions. He did as he was told, peering back down at you and your tongue that was dancing around his tip, relentlessly teasing him.

"Please, ma'am. I've been such a good boy," he urgently begged, becoming teary-eyed. That's it, you thought to yourself. That was the kind of desperation you'd been patiently waiting for. You nodded at him, giving him silently permission as a tear rolled down his cheek. He let out a few loud, guttural moans, his voice cracking and his breath getting caught in his throat again.

You felt his dick pulse between your lips while you hummed against it, pressing the flat part of your tongue against his tip and causing his sweet and salty substance to spray off into different streams into your mouth, intensifying his orgasm. A few more primal sounds poured from his lips while you drained his throbbing member of his tasty seed.

"Thank you, ma'am. Thank you," he graciously praised you as you collected every last bit onto your tongue before swallowing it, making sure not to waste a single drop. He stared down at you breathlessly with his bedroom eyes, his flushed cheeks, and his slightly parted lips, his heart beating out of his chest.

"You're so good with your mouth, ma'am. How can I ever repay you?" Chris wondered, wiping away his tears of satisfaction and slipping his cock back into his pants. "Not necessary. It was my pleasure," you whispered, winking at him. "Ma'am. I insist. Please let me show you how good I can make you feel," he said in a soft, subservient voice, giving you puppy dog eyes.

You nibbled on your lip as you stood up in front of Chris. You reached down and picked up your glass of wine, taking a long sip before you started to unbutton your silk shirt. He watched as you slowly opened your blouse, exposing your breasts to him as you peered into his blue eyes.

"You'd do that for me, sweet boy?" You cooed, brushing your thumb against his cheek while you tilted your head down at him and held eye-contact. "I'd do anything to please you," he whispered, tipping his chin up at you. "Be a good boy and get on your knees for me," you said in a soft and sweet but domineering manner. He nodded before he dropped to his knees in front of you.

He curled his fingers into your waistband and slowly stripped your bottoms off of you. You stepped out of them, one leg at a time, Chris' eyes fixed on the treasure between your thighs. Chris bent your knee and slung your leg over his shoulder, so you could rest your foot on the edge of the couch while he nestled into your warmth. His tongue gently flickered over your clit, sending a lovely sensation through you.

Despite having just finished, the act of eating your pussy had him all worked up and needy again, his hand slithering below his waist as it found its way into his the waistband of his boxers. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft and started pumping back and forth. He clamped his lips down on your sensitive bud, moaning against it.

"Good boy," you whimpered, running your digits through his hair and brushing it out of his pretty face. He was so gentle and tender, taking his time with his licks, but they were perfectly sensual and effective nonetheless. You gasped as he suckled on your most delicate nerve-endings, and the sound of him hungrily lapping up your wetness filled the room.

You let go, allowing yourself to be swept up in the delightful feeling his tongue brought you as it expertly prodded around your glistening folds. "That's it, baby. You're doing such a good job," you commended him. You smiled down at him, whimpering and licking your lips.

"Ma'am, you taste so sweet," Chris softly replied right before taking his hand out of his pants and placing his middle finger at your entrance. "I'm gonna make you feel so good," he smirked up at you, sinking his digit into your hole.

He noted how tight you felt wrapped around just one finger. He couldn't keep himself from fantasizing about how your pussy would feel encasing his cock.

He went back to delicately licking your clit while he worked his curled finger into your heat, pulling it almost all the way out and pushing it back in again. You loved the way it felt, but it left your core aching for more.

"Chris.. I need something else from you, sweetie," you responded, looking down lovingly at the obvious bulge in his jeans. "What do you need from me?" He sweetly asked, resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh and peering up at you, eager to serve you in any way he could.

You loved his subordinate nature, his obedient tone, and his enthusiasm about doing anything for you that you wanted him to. "Let me ride you, sweet boy," you requested, playing with his hair. "Oh, yes, ma'am. I thought you'd never ask," he softly whined, hypnotizing you with his desperate eyes.

You unhooked your leg from the boy's shoulder, and when he stood up, you placed your pointer finger on his chest and lightly pushed him back. He bent to your will, allowing your gentle shove to subdue him onto your sofa. He sunk into the furniture and pulled his dick out of his waistband once more, presenting it to you in all its glory. It was still incredibly hard.

You straddled him, sticking your breasts in his face, and he eagerly took one of your nipples into his mouth. You grabbed onto his cock, holding it in place, so you could lower yourself onto it. You gasped as you enveloped the tip, and you let out a delighted sigh as you sat all the way down on it. Chris moaned against your breast, relishing in the sensation of having your heat wrapped around him.

He placed his hands on your waist so he could feel every intricacy in the way you rolled your hips forward, grinding on him as you rode him. You slid up and down on his rod with ease, becoming increasingly wet. "You're so big," you complimented him, feeling the way his dimensions filled you snugly, and he blushed at your praise.

You reached between your legs and started drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves while you maintained your stamina. "Ma'am, this is the best tip I've ever received," Chris whimpered, breathlessly. "I'd have to say the same," you smirked down at him. A few subtle whimpers escaped the boy's lips as you sped up your pace.

Chris' eyes started to roll back, but you gently tugged onto his ear, and whispered, "Look at me while you cum, sweet boy." He weakly nodded at you, his expression drenched in sheer lust and his facial features making it apparent to you how good you were making him feel.

"I'm so lucky I got you as my pizza delivery boy," you moaned, looking into his eyes. "Respectfully, ma'am, I think I'm the lucky one," he whimpered, furrowing his brow and digging into your sides with his fingertips.

"You've been such a good boy. Why don't you cum for me, sweetie?" You cooed, recognizing how close he was and how badly he needed this. "Inside?" He politely clarified. "Yes, Chris. Fill me up," you responded, nodding at him. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, letting all his muscles relax as his orgasm washed over him like a rising tide.

His climax ebbed and flowed through him. His cock twitched inside of you, pumping you full of his seed until it started leaking down his length and making a mess on his jeans. He was incredibly sensitive, but he waited patiently until your orgasm followed shortly after.

"Oh, Chris," you called out in a sultry moan as you clenched around him, finishing onto his rod and adding to the mess of fluids that were leaking onto his lap. The pace of your fingers on your clit slowed down as well as the movement of your hips until you finally came to a halt. You smiled down at Chris, pulling him into one more intense kiss and overwhelming his tastebuds with notes of red wine.

You climbed off of him, and started to slip back into your clothes. He admired your body one last time as you covered back up, taking a few moments to recover from the powerful sensation. His chest rose and fell as his breathing began to regulate itself, and he tucked himself back into his jeans, pulling his zipper closed, buttoning them back up, and buckling his belt.

You reached into your wallet again, pulling out $150, the amount Chris told you he would've made had he worked the rest of his shift, and you tucked it into his pocket. "Ma'am. Do you think I'm some kind of hooker or something? I can't accept money for sex," he smiled at you, pulling his work shirt back on over his head.

"You were on the job. I'm only paying you for your valuable time. We just so happened to have sex," you shrugged, winking at him while you did up the buttons on your silky pajama top. He shook his head, ready to decline your money offer.

"Come on, if you had trouble making rent this month because I got greedy and wouldn't let you leave, I'd feel just awful," you seductively said, tilting his chin up with your finger. "Even if you just spend it on weed," you winked at him. He chuckled and rolled his eyes in response.

"I can't wait to leave you a good review. Let everyone in town know how filling the Italian sausage is."

🍕 click for part two

taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @new2024cats4life @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @ssturniolooss @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @babysturniolo @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1 @chrislova @stellarsturns @lelesturniolo @sturniolodoll @ilovemattsturn @blahbel668

[ssloveslogan]

❆ christmas treat ❆

warnings: MDNI, reader x logan, i feel like i should mention there’s a bit of father/daughter cuteness with logan and rogue (i can’t help myself i miss them), porn with tiniest amount of plot, p in v, panties stay on, unprotected sex

- christmas themed fic obvs! merry christmas guys hope you all got what u wanted under the tree (tearing up because hugh jackman wasn’t there BUT i did get a cutout, calendar and shirt of him😝)

the x-men mansion was buzzing with holiday cheer, a welcoming warmth against the outside bitterness. today is christmas, and the atmosphere was filled with laughter, music and the smell of baked goods wafted through the halls. later tonight, everyone would do their secret santa exchange and you, like everybody else, had been eagerly waiting for the moment when you could finally stop waiting and could open your gift.

but, the one thing you were even more excited about, was the look on logan’s face when he sees what you had gotten him. somehow, you had drawn out your boyfriend’s name from the hat this year and, god, was it hard to find something for him. your struggle to find something for him was quickly overcome with a brilliantly personal idea.

so, here you are, on your bed, placing logan’s favourite blue lacey panties of yours and a polaroid picture in a small rectangular box wrapped in festive paper and tied with a shiny blue ribbon. the polaroid picture in question was a filthy picture of you from a couple days before, spread out with your cunt on full display, post-orgasm, cheeks flushed and arousal soaking your pussy. you just couldn’t help yourself, what else were you meant to do when you were horny as fuck and logan was on a mission?

your train of thought was soon disturbed by the opening of your door and in came logan. you were quick to hide the gift under the bed and you gave him a smile, in attempt to make it look like you weren’t just wrapping his secret santa gift up.

“what’s got you all smiley?” logan chuckled and raised an eyebrow when seeing your grin wide on your face.

“oh, nothing, don’t worry about it lo,” you giggled, biting your lip to stop you from giving yourself away. “soo, did you get your person their secret santa gift?” you asked, wondering if he even bothered this year.

“yeah, i did. i got rogue this year so i figured i’d get her something. got her some makeup and chocolate” he spoke grumpily as if he was buying her stuff against his own free will.

“that’s really sweet of you, lo! surprised u even did it this year” you tease him and he rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” he huffs out but you notice him trying to hold back his smile. “anyways, who’d you get? or are you still not gonna tell me?” he question with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“that defeats the whole purpose of secret santa y’know that, baby? you will find out soon, you desperate man” you smirk and play nudge his stomach as he scoffs and tries to act annoyed but his walls tumble down at the noise of your laughter and his heart warms.

“we should get going now, right lo? can’t have you waiting to find out who’s name i pulled out any longer” you giggle and logan groans.

you begin to get up and put your shoes on as you realise you probably should be going downstairs to gather up for the gift exchange, seeing as you are already late. you grab your gift and hide it in a bag and then you wait for logan to put on his leather jacket and take his gift too. once you’re both ready, you give him a quick peck on the lips and intertwine both yours and logan’s hands together. you smirked to yourself, knowing of what’s to come.

the both of you swiftly make your way to to the christmas tree where all the adults and some of the older kids were gathered around. christmas lights twinkled around the room, stockings - with everyone’s name sown on it- were hung by the grand fireplace and chatter filled the space up with a cozy ambience.

“i’ll be back” you say to logan, letting go of him and walking off towards the tree to place your gift for him under it, before he could grumble about being alone. oh how you can’t wait for the gift exchange, your patience is going down by the second.

your eyes wander around the room before they land on storm and jean and you smile, making your way towards them.

“look who finally decided to join us!” storm teases while embracing you in a friendly hug.

“i’m surprised logan even came for it this year, normally the guy just stays outside while smoking his beloved cigars” jean snickers and makes all three of you fall into a fit of giggles. “hey, who’d you get for the secret santa?” jean questions while sipping on her drink.

you smirk at them and a little giggle comes out “i got logan” you say, biting your lip to stop your laughter from erupting even more.

“girls! come on, we’re opening the secret santa gifts!” scott shouts out before you guys could say anything else about the topic at hand, and you three step towards the christmas tree and huddle together.

you sit on the couch alongside your girl friends, surrounded by the glow of the massive christmas tree. the sound of laughter and the occasional tearing of wrapping paper filled the air as people opened their gifts one by one. you turn around and notice logan, leaning against a wall, nursing a bottle of beer. his gaze was already on you and you smile, winking at him.

it’s rogue’s turn to open her gift and she absolutely loves it. even though logan doesn’t give up his identity as the mystery giver of said gift, you notice him smiling to himself - proud of what he had gotten her.

soon enough, everyone had opened their gifts - you had gotten a gorgeous silver necklace from kitty with a heart pendant in the middle. well, everyone but one final person, logan howlett.

“alright, logan, you’re up!” rogue beams, signalling for him to come over and open it with everyone. he grumbles yet he still makes his way over, curiosity getting the better of him. he leans over to grab the perfectly wrapped gift with his name written on it and stands back, closer to the wall, while gently untying the delicate ribbon.

your legs bounce in newfound nervousness, what if people saw? you clearly didn’t think it through very well but you pray to yourself that he doesn’t take it out of the box. you watch his every move, waiting for him to finally peek inside the box, the one-sided tension growing in your body.

logan slowly takes the lid off of the box and he tenses, stopping himself, making sure not to take the contents of the gift out for everyone to see. his pupils dilate at the polaroid of you, tongue sticking out, eyes rolled to the back of your pretty head and your swollen pussy all on show with your glistening juices dripping down your cunt. underneath the polaroid he saw the perfect blue panties he’s had to repurchase you dozens of times from the amount of times he’s ripped them off of you.

“s-shit..” he murmurs to himself, feeling the tent in his jeans grow. the room was trying to figure out what was even inside the box and why he seemed so off. you, on the other hand, smirked to yourself as you felt a sense of victory at the reaction you got out of him.

logan quickly closed the box and glanced up at you with darkened eyes, his face radiating off want and desire and you simply smirked at him, winking, as you felt yourself dampening on the spot from his intense gaze, ignoring the way he made your tummy flip.

“sooo, what’d you get?” rogue said to cut the uncomfortable tension everyone else sensed in the room.

“nothing” logan’s voice dropped an octave as his eyes remained on you the whole time. you shuffled, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

everyone knew they weren’t getting an answer from logan, so they dropped it at that, continuing their conversations and acting as if nothing had even happened. you also tried to pretend like it was just a normal christmas day, but you saw logan, his gift still in his hand, and he was striding towards you.

your heart rate fluttered when he briefly stopped infront of you - breathing heavily, knuckles white from the grip on the gift and his nostrils flaring in need.

“o-oh! hey, baby! wha-” your stuttered out sentence was swiftly cut off by logan picking you up by the waist with one arm and throwing you over his shoulder.

“logan! logan, put me down!” you shout, bashing your fragile hands on his stone hard back.

you continued with your pleads and apologies in attempt to get him to put you down, but the rush of arousal hit you hard, the possessive act sent floods of heat through your veins. your own body betrayed you as you feel yourself dampen even more and your nipples were slowly hardening.

logan pays no mind to your lousy attempts and he makes his way to your shared room, slamming then locking the door behind him. he tosses you and the gift onto the bed, following you down with his own weight. he leans in close, his face hovering just inches from yours, his hot breath fanning over your lips. you can see the raw desire in his eyes, the way his pupils are blown wide with lust. you can see his hunger for you written all over his face. without warning, his crashes his lips against yours in a searing, passionate kiss. it’s not gentle or sweet; it’s a kiss born out of desperation, need and untamed thirst. you pull away breathless, and begin to speak.

“lo? you okay baby?” you tease, a playful glint in your eyes but all confidence is lost when you see his face not even twitching to smile. you rake your hands through his hair and he leans into your neck to bite into the supple skin, making you gasp and tilt your head back to give him more access. his tongue laps to gently suck over the mark to soothe the sting as he continues to litter your neck with kisses and purple bruises.

“l-logan..” you whine, exhaling sharply as you feel tears pooling in your eyes from the overwhelming sensations on your neck. after what feels like forever, logan pulls away to admire his work and he reaches for the gift box, opening it to pull out the familiar lacy blue panties he adores.

“need to fuck you with these on you” he rasps, slowly stripping you of your clothes until you’re bare for him, exposed and defenceless.

“christ, you’re just soaking for me darlin’, arent you? filthy fuckin’ girl, you get off on me carrying you around, baby? you like knowing i can pick you up whenever i want?” he smirks, seeing your cheeks flush pink while you nod weakly at him.

“don’t worry doll, i’ll help you out.” he grunts, tapping your hip signalling for you to lift them as he makes you wear nothing but the panties.

“perfect, you look perfect like this, baby. you wanted this, hm? wanted my attention with the gift? you got it now, i’ve got you.” logan says while quickly unfastening his belt and getting rid of his jeans and boxers. his tip was leaking with beads of pre-cum, his tip swollen and red, and he gently pulls your panties to the side and places himself in his spot between your thighs.

“p-please lo, want you to fuck me” you whine, your neediness displaying as he teases you by rubbing himself on your weeping folds.

he wanted to watch you squirm just for a little while longer, but his little self restraint disappeared when hearing your sweet voice begging for him. he lines himself up at your pulsing hole and before you could say anything more about needing him, he plunges deep into you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you both let out a deep moan. he begins to move slowly, pulling out before slamming back in, pounding into you mercilessly.

“love this pussy, always so fuckin’ tight for me” he growled, his breath hot against your ear as he continued thrusting into your wet heat, vigorously.

his words only fueled the fire burning inside of you and your walls clench around him tightly. “harder, please logan, i want you to fuck me harder” you begged, voice strained with pleasure.

“you want it harder, baby?” he smirks darkly before slamming into you with renewed intensity. “like this, baby?” he asks as his hands make their way to your hips, pushing you down even deeper onto him.

“j-just like that lo, so fucking good b-baby.” you moan loudly, tears prickling at your eyes from the profound pleasure-pain.

the bed creaks with every thrust while the bed frame hits the wall, creating a rhythmic thump-thump-thump. “making such a mess on my cock. ‘m gonna fucking ruin this pussy, doll” he groans, while reaching down to rub tight circles on your clit.

as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you, you can feel every ridge and vein of his thick member stretching your inner walls. you clench around him, the knot in your belly tightening, making him groan and shudder above you.

“i’m gonna come lo, so close” you whimper out as he continues to drill into you, his cock dragging deliciously against your sweet spot with each stroke as he drives you closer to the edge.

“i know, baby, that’s it. be a good girl for me and come on my cock, doll” logan grunts into your ear as you scrape your nails down his back, leaving marks which are quickly healed again. you throw your head back and arch into him as you convulse and spasm around his length, your orgasm crashing over you, making him groan in pleasure while you moan into his shoulder and dig your nails deeper into his back.

he works you through your orgasm as his thrusts become desperate, his own release stirring inside of him. with one final and brutal thrust, logan buries himself deep inside of you and he holds still. his cock throbs and pulses as he releases his hot seed into you.

“s-shit, so good for me..” logan grunts, his face contorting with pleasure and his chest heaving erratically. he pulls out with a wince as he lays next to you on his back. you move to lean onto his chest, the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing you. logan’s arm tightens around you as he leans in to kiss your head while gently stroking your hair.

“i guess you liked your gift then?” you giggle and look up at him with your fucked out smile, already knowing his very obvious answer.

logan chuckles and glances down at you, admiring your post-orgasm beauty. “loved it, baby. might have to somehow make you get me again next year.” he grins while tracing patterns on your arm.

you giggle and move upwards, your noses brushing against each other, lips barely an inch apart. “merry christmas, logan” you whisper, leaning your forehead to press against his.

“merry christmas, darling” he whispers back, smiling softly at you before closing the distance between you both to share a soft and sweet kiss.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

❆ i rushed this so badly and didn’t proofread it so i’m sorry if some bits don’t make sense and wrongly punctuated guys!! but also i’ve been so busy this past week i literally am surviving off of what feels like zero sleep at all. hope u did enjoy this tho we all need some christmas logan content.

[heartmix]

Never Be - Jack Hughes

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4K+ (with lyrics)

Warning: theres angst, pre-devils Jack

A/N: inspired by never be by 5sos. this is not how i wanted to end the fic but it just went in that direction

Masterlist \ Hockey Masterlist

We'll never be as young as we are now It's time to leave this old black and white town

"Let's leave."

"What?" Lifting your head to look at him beside you on the couch to ensure you heard him right. Both of you were in the Hughes family basement enjoying a film you knew he wasn't really paying attention to. Everyone else was asleep upstairs, ditching the both of you two movies ago.  

"Let's leave, go somewhere. No turning back." He repeated giving you a serious expression. Jack was full of surprises and you've learned to love that about him but the look in his eyes tonight was different. There was no pinpointing what emotion he was feeling but you knew he needed this, whatever this was. 

"What's gotten into that brain of yours Hughes?"

"This is the last time we get to be young and dumb. By next week, we'll be both adults off to do our own thing. Just one last time being a teenager with you."

"Well, what do you wanna do? Where do you wanna go?"

"Follow me." He said holding out his hand. Glady taking it you let him pull you off the couch and straight to his car. 

Jack wasn't exactly sure where he was driving to; he didn't have a destination in mind. He just wanted to leave the town with you and soak in the few moments you had left together before his world changed. By this time next week, he would already be practicing at the devil's rink and you would be moving into your new college dorm. As much as he didn't want to think about it, he wouldn't get the chance to talk to you every day. From the stories Quinn has told he would be lucky to catch you when you both are free or when in the same time zone when he's away for games. The Hughes brothers, as close as they are were lucky to catch a back-to-back conversation when the season started. 

I've seen myself here in your eyes I stay awake 'til the sunrise I wanna hold you hold you all night I wanna tell you that you're all mine

The farthest place Jack could think of going was the lookout where the both of you were frequent visitors. He remembered the first time he took you here. It was just a few years ago when he was learning how to drive and accidentally took the wrong turn. Between the nervousness from driving and you teasing him every second of being so nervous, he ended up on the lookout. A happy accident that became both of your spots.

"This might be your last view of our spot for a while." He looked over seeing you take in the sight yourself. 

"Same goes for you, you had to move away for college."

"You had to move away for hockey." teasing back, Jack couldn't help the hint of a smirk pulling from his lips. 

A moment of silence passed through. The only sound was from nature surrounding you both. There was no telling what time it was, time seemed to not exist but at the same time moving faster than he would like. If he could take this moment with you in his arms watching the slowness of the town, he would hang it on every wall so it would make it feel like it never ended. 

"What's going on with you Jacky?"

"I'm just taking this in before leaving." He didn't want to meet her eyes, he was holding on by a thread, and with one more push, he was going to spill his guts. 

"I thought we came to terms with this changing?"

"We did. I came to terms with leaving for New Jersey, not leaving you." There it was. The thing he was trying to hold back and not tell you. He didn't want to guilt trip you and make you feel bad. This occurrence was part of growing up, they weren't the first people to experience this change. 

"Jack.." 

"You are the only constant I had in my life these few years, I don't remember a time we've been apart for a long period of time."

"We'll see each other at Christmas right? that's just a few months away." He knew what you were trying to do and although you giving him hope usually cheered him up, it didn't work this time. 

"Might as well be a whole lifetime."

"You're not making this any easier for me." looking at you he saw tears welling up in your eyes. That wasn't what he wanted to do and he wished he could take back what he just said. 

"I thought you accepted it already." 

"I accepted it until tonight. I've been trying so hard to accept it and it took me nights of crying to be okay and here you are not moving on and it's breaking down my walls." at this point the tears couldn't stop and just kept following. he's never seen you like this, breaking down about the two of you being apart. You were always the strong and level head one out of the two, so seeing this right now he wished more than anything he could be in control of time. Reversing it so he never poured his heart out or freezing it so the both of you could stay like this forever. 

"Why didn't you tell me you've been crying?" The crack in his voice snapped something in you.

"Because you're going to the freakin NHL. I was with you on draft day and saw all the excitement from everyone. How selfish would I be if I told you I was sad about you moving away from me."

"Now you know how feel when I read your acceptance letter to a school on the other coast."

A beat of silence passed before either of them said anything. This was the first time both of you confessed how you were really feeling. Jack knew you were feeling upset about the change just like him, but hearing you confess how it was affecting you tugged at his heart even more. 

"Can you promise me one thing?" Her ask almost came out as a whisper, like she wasn't sure if she wanted to say it.

"Anything you want."

"When you make it big, and you get new friends, a new life in Jersey, a girlfriend, and start a family, promise that you'll never forget me. I'll be good with one call a year or a text for my birthday. I don't think I could take being out of your life for good." The confession made him mad. What was she even talking about? Did she really think that she could be replaced so easily, after being connected by the hips since grade school? 

"Baby, what are you saying? I'm never ever going to forget you. You are my person and the only constant I want in my life. If you are down the road from me or on a different coast, you'll always be mine. Don't think for one second I'll want to find someone else. I want you and I'm happy with any way I'll get that."

"Jack you're not saying what I think you're saying." He was. He didn't want to confess it this way but hearing all the nonsense she was talking about, he needed to end those thoughts right now. 

"I am. I just haven't had the courage to tell you until now."

"I need to ask you for one more thing." The tone in her voice made him scared. Of course, she wouldn't feel the same way. 

With the last bit of dignity he had left he still wondered what she wanted to say, "What is it?"

"I need you to tell me this when we aren't about to move away from each other. It can't be at Christmas or off seasons also. I need you to tell me this when we have adulthood somewhat figured out. If you still feel the same way, tell me then." Although it wasn't what he wanted to hear, he was glad she felt the same way. Of course, she wanted to be logical while in the heat of emotion. 

"I've felt like this for years, if I have to wait a bit longer I will." A smile cracked through. He wasn't kidding. He's waited years since they first entered high school, what difference does it make if he has to wait for her to finish college? 

"We'll see."

"Can we pretend for the last few hours we have tonight? I wanted to remember this."

"You got until sunrise Jacky." With a content smile, he pulled you into his side, entangling your fingers together and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. If he had to wait a few years so be it. 

We'll never be as young as we are now As young as we are now

[crow2222]

A little thing I wrote about The Curtis brothers with a baby Ponyboy..

I saw a couple fics like that and just wanted to write something about it myself

fic under the cut !!

“Darry?”

He dragged his head up, feeling as if it had weighed like a couple of dumbbells. Darry hadn’t even noticed he dozed off until Sodapop was shaking his shoulder, jolting him out of his restless sleep.

A flash of panic ran throughout his body once he noticed the empty feeling in his arms, but then he caught the familiar mop of auburn hair in his brother’s arms instead.

His shoulders dropped down in relief, and his arms greedily came up to try and pry the baby back into his hands; but Sodapop wasn't having any of that.

“You fell asleep with him in your arms? You coulda fallen with him or something! Seriously, Darry. When was the last time you actually went to sleep?”

Darry blankly stared at his kid brother as he got told off. Who was he, a fourteen year old kid, to be scolding his adult brother?

He stood up from the couch to tell him as much, but his legs felt like jello, and he could see flashes of stars. Maybe he was right, just this time. Sodapop gently sat Darry back down, settling down right next to him on the couch with a warmed up bottle in his right hand.

Guilt swam in Darry’s stomach like a lone fish in an enclosed tank, a tiger pacing a zoo's enclosure.

Sodapop shouldn’t be doing this.

He shouldn’t be feeding Ponyboy and keeping him entertained while Darry slaved away at work all day.

How will they cope once school break is over, and there is no one home to stay with the baby?

Darry grabbed at his head, pulling at the ends of his hair as he tried to will his headache away. He was always thinking too much, too much. It got worse after the accident. It was like an avalanche had collapsed his life when he had his back turned, smiling away, enjoying the fact that he graduated with a future scholarship for his football achievements.

But then he had to ask for some stupid special icing on his cake.

And now he has two baby brothers to worry about all hours of the day. (Even if Sodapop hated to be called a baby brother, seeing how Ponyboy was right there, and just shy of five months.)

Ponyboy babbled, knocking away the bottle by his mouth, and tried to grab at Darry as he further spiralled. Sodapop noticed his older brother because of this and tugged on his brother’s sleeve.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t mad.” But he knew that wasn't why his brother was so riled up. “I think you should take a good nap. In a bed, I mean.” He flashed his movie star grin, the one that girls have lately started taking a liking to, with hope that it’d convince Darry.

He weakly registered what Soda had even said, but he nodded along anyway. Just for an hour or two, he could rest his eyes. He had been up with Ponyboy all morning in the first place, giving Sodapop the freedom to hang around other kids his age for once.

Darry had planned for it to be like that all day, but Soda must’ve come back home at some point and found him asleep with the cartoons still running.

His feet dragged across the ground, kicking away the baby toys, dirty clothes and trash that had been scattered all across the house.

It’s been just a couple days.

And he hadn’t had the strength to clean the house, or the master bedroom at all. It was in tip top shape when the social worker had come by for the first time, but as the days dragged on and bled into each other, they stopped noticing how dirty it was.

It could’ve been mistaken for a landfill, from how messy everything was; but then Darry’s greasy unwashed hair hit his pillow, and he was lulled to sleep from the buzz that was his brother’s voice, rambling on to Ponyboy.

[taesanluv3r]

almost twenty

kim woonhak x reader

non-idol woonhak and reader anxiously holding onto their disappearing youth. kind of emotional, esp if youre aged 17-19, might make u cry (i did while writing it) idk. this fic is dedicated to everyone who's worrying so much abt the future (me) it'll get better i promise (telling myself this). lowercase intended. pls ignore any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors. enjoyy

wc: 2,365

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"so...have you heard back from any of the colleges yet?"

her mother's simple question alone was enough to ruin yn ln's whole afternoon. normally, it wouldn't piss her off that much at all, but the fact that she's heard the exact same words come out from the woman's mouth about a billion times this week alone was just the thing to fully pull on her veins. "i told you a million times already, mom!" she shouted, abruptly- and angrily- standing up from her seat at the dining table. "the schools will get back to me in two weeks. i just applied like two days ago! god..."

"...do you ever listen?"

the answer is no. what kind of parents were understanding enough to listen to their teenage daughter? in fact, what kind of adult would ever understand the way their kids, regardless of age, felt? maybe out there somewhere there was a family that were healthy enough to get each other that way. maybe out there somewhere an adult was caring enough to relate a little.

"tsk...yeah right...fat chance"

yn groans as she slumps belly first onto her bed. she turns over to lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. her eyes almost water as they scan her surroundings. the glow-in-the-dark stars that decorated her walls, the baby-pink chair she had out-grown years ago, and the collection of stuffed animals that snuggled comfortably in the very corner of her bed-room; memories of the trajectory of her own life- well, the life she had up until right now, up until this awkward stage between teenage youth and adulthood.

she sighs as she gets up again, her fingers tracing against the gold medals that sat atop the floral wallpaper. she giggles, looking through every old photo inside each frame placed on her shelf. one of little yn holding up three gold medals, little yn with a big toothy grin only half the size of the cotton candy in her tiny hands, a slightly older yn when she had graduated elementary school, and one last image of a smiley middle-school yn, hands happily intertwined with her closest friend, kim woonhak.

the girl stops to stare at all her belongings a little longer. in just two more weeks she'd be hearing back from at least one of the colleges she had applied to. in just two weeks all of these things that surrounded her would be stuffed into a card-board box, somewhere far away from her sight. a sick feeling forms in the pit of her stomach. it's bittersweet. sure, she'd finally be free from the so-called shackles of her parents' constant nagging, finally having a life of her own...but at the same time, yn just couldn't help all the doubts that constantly clouded up her mind, those thoughts that made the sunny days look gloomy through her eyes.

she swears she might just start crying. not that it's anything new, the stress that comes forth from being on the verge of twenty always seemed to push a lever in the tear-making department in her eyes. she's interrupted this time though, by the unnecessarily loud ping of her phone. 'who could possibly be texting me now...'

'woon-not so-agi'

the contact name alone allows a little laugh to escape the girl's lips as she swipes her fingers against the screen to open his message.

where u at?? you aren't flaking on me are u????

his texts confuse her for just a moment, she had no clue what he was talking about.

hellooooo? don't tell me u forgot? we're supposed to meet at the tree remember?? hurry uppppppppp im not waiting long >:(

"shit is it 7pm already?!" without any more fuss, yn rushes to throw on her sweater. she doesn't bother to bid goodbye to her parents before she runs out the door- she's still upset at them, of course. the girl hastily climbs onto her bicycle, her legs pedaling the fastest they ever had. in almost no time, she arrives at the boy's backyard.

"what took you so long?" a male voice calls out from the top of the tree, woonhak's head peaking out from the wooden structure that sat between the branches. yn points a finger up at the air, signaling for him to wait for a second as she catches her breath. she could hear him laugh, followed by the rustling of leaves as a gust of wind flew by. "hurry and get up here" he said impatiently, prompting her to roll her eyes as she began to climb up the wooden ladder.

"finally" the boy said, smiling stupidly as the girl took a seat beside him on the tree-house-like space. it was a flat piece of wood, decorated with acrylic paints and a couple old throw pillows that his dad had installed for them on the tall tree in their backyard. they were about six years old then, just two little kids begging their parents every single day for a 'super ultimate tree-house' to pose as their 'super-spy head-quarters' on their silly playdates, having no clue that their favourite playing spot would hold the same purpose years later in their teens.

"what's up with you?" the boy's voice shakes yn out of the trance she didn't know she was in. "huh?" he laughs again, "you always look like you're about to jump off this tree" woonhak teases, and usually she'd tease back. usually, she'd say something too witty for him to understand, dying of laughter by herself while he sat there confused. that wasn't the case today though, instead, she stayed quiet, only the slightest smile on her lips.

in an instant, his face softened. "hey..." he began, shifting the weight away from his hands to lightly tap at her shoulders. his grip tightened, adding a bit of force to turn her around so they were face to face. "there really is something wrong, isn't there?" yn couldn't bring herself to answer properly, only a whimper of sorts coming out from her mouth- the quietest of noise before that lever inside of her eyes came loose.

"yn...what's wrong?" woonhak asked again, catching her body in his arms when she fell towards him, incasing her in his warmth. "i..." she manages to muster out, her voice muffled from the fabric of his baby-blue sweater. "...i don't know...i just..." once more, the words in her head failed to solidify, all her thoughts coming out as silent cries. he doesn't force her to speak anymore, just holding her tightly, rocking back and forth as if he were comforting a teen-sized baby.

it takes about half an hour for yn to gather herself and her thoughts up again. she had removed herself of woonhak's embrace, sitting straight up beside him. the shadow of their swinging feet moved with the grass below them, the afternoon sky creating a blue-ish tint and painting the scene like a movie. just the right atmosphere for the boy to open his ears up, all for her voice to enter right in.

"i just don't get it. i don't get why they keep pressuring me with all these questions! when are you going to college? you should start packing, have you found a dorm yet? have you found a job yet? when will you get your license? i just...it's just too much- it's like..." she momentarily stops her speech-like dialogue to think of the right adjectives. "like it's all going so fast? like they're rushing you?" woonhak completes the sentences for her, his eyebrows furrowing when she nods in agreement.

"exactly" yn says, bringing one leg up to rest her chin on her knee. "it's just so stressful...i guess i just can't believe it's all happening- i mean..." she picks up her speaking space, perhaps to stop herself from letting the tears take over again. "in two weeks we'll hear from those colleges...then we'll have to move and then start a whole new life and what if we don't end up in the same place? what if we lose contact? what if everything i've lived the past years of my life for..." her voice cracks and she pauses for a moment to look at the boy beside her.

"...what if it doesn't work out? what if it just all goes to waste?"

the water that had begun to well up in her eyes were a clear image in front of him now, only prompting him to start to tear up himself. their gazes lingered on each other for a moment, the vulnerability of it all crashing against the two teenagers like it had fallen straight from the sky.

"i get it" woonhak says, trying his best to stop himself from bawling like a baby- even if it meant breaking eye-contact with the girl and staring all too seriously at the leaves above him. "ah, being our age is so hard!" he yells this time, falling backwards to lay down on the wooden surface. his hands slapped over his face, the mere thought of the pair's coming adulthood far too frustrating for him. his slight temper-tantrum made her smile for the first time that afternoon- i mean, fully smile.

something about the boy's childish nature comforted her. like despite all these worries and all the stress about their coming twenties, whenever they were together they still had that little bit of youth to grab onto.

"hey...you're smiling again" she nods at his observation, moving to lay down on her back right next to him. yn lets out a sigh, watching as a flock of birds migrated over the skies above them. "yn?" woonhak calls out and the girl hums in response, turning her head over to face him. the boy's eyes are shiny and bright, despite the fact that the sun was long gone. she's confused when he moves to sit up again, but never breaking eye-contact.

"can you promise me something?"

she sits up with him now, nodding along with his words. "promise what?" her words are quick, like she didn't have any more time left in the world. "that when we're away in college, even if we get too busy with whatever twenty year olds do, even if we barely have any time on our hands anymore..." his voice starts to shake, eyes begin to water all over again. "promise me we'll never lose contact. promise me we'll still talk every chance we get? please?" the weakness displayed on his face, a kind of look she had never ever seen on the boy before this very moment. he fully expected her to cry as well, to breakdown into tears as they hugged for the rest of the night. she didn't though, instead the girl broke into a small fit of laughter.

"what...why are you laughing?!" a massive frown decorated his complexion, tears streaming down both sides of his face. "oh, woonhak..." yn says, a smile on her lips as her hands moved up to cup his cheeks, beginning to wipe away his tears. "you're so stupid..." the boy furrows his eyebrows, "you can't seriously be bullying me in the middle of this right now-" he's cut off when her pointer finger presses against his mouth. "no, you idiot. i'm just saying you're so stupid if you think i'd ever be able to survive my twenties without texting and calling you every chance i get!"

his mouth opens to form an 'O' shape. she lets out a giggle and his own one follows. yn lets out a deep breath, "i'd be way too lonely without you, woonhak" the boy smiles, "yeah, you've got like no other friends anyways- ow!" he exclaims, rubbing the spot on his shoulder she had slapped. "meanie" her baby-like language only makes him roll his eyes, "how are you almost twenty and still calling people meanie?" yn pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. "i only call you that...and only cause its the truth!" woonhak laughs once more before suddenly pulling her into his chest, she squeals at the sudden force sending them to lay down flat on the tree-house structure again.

they stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms under the shade of their comfort place. "i wish we could stay almost-twenty forever..." yn says through a sigh. woonhak nods, a hand stroking through her hair. "yeah...i wish time froze at age nineteen or something...like at nineteen point nine nine" her eyebrows knit together, "nineteen point nine nine?" he nods again, "yeah, like the ultimate teenager" the girl laughs, hiding her face against his side.

"you're an idiot, you know that?" - "but where would you be without me, yn?" she agrees with him, "you're right...life would be so terrible without you- even if you're the dumbest person i know..." he rolls his eyes. "hey, yn?" - "yeah?"

"you know...later if we're away from each other, please call me. call me all the time. call me if you're bored, call me if you're happy, call me when you're sad, when you're stressed, and please..." the boy trails off, sitting up again and grabbing the girl's hands to pull her up with him. he stared deeply into her eyes, and she did the same as she bit on her bottom lip.

"please call me if you're lonely...promise?"

she nods quickly, "of course. i promise" the pair melt into each other as they hugged once more, the blue sky had darkened and the bright moon watched over them from the cracks between the branches of the tree. "thank you..." kim woonhak says, separating from her grasp. "for what?" yn ln wonders, tilting her head off to the side in confusion.

"for spending the rest of our youth with me"

just like that, yn's worries and all her anxiety flew out the window. in a time like this one, when it feels like their teenage years are disappearing far too quickly, when no one around them seemed to understand, when they've become all too sensitive to the concept of change...at least they've got each other to seek comfort. an everlasting youth whenever it was just the two of them. as though time had frozen and they were stuck in the in-between...

at 19.99.

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

aaa i cried while writing and proofreading this TT 19.99 coming out the same time ive been the most stressed abt future-related stuff, the album is so amazing and relatable! its very precious to me, dont forget to stream!! ily bonedo, ily woonhak, ily readers! here's to growing up together <3 tysm for reading. love, kona.

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 03

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, bad words, drug addiction, betrayal.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

How is it possible for me to screw everything up so badly in such a short amount of time?

I ran my hands over my face, sitting on the edge of the bed, as I felt hands wrap around my shoulders. Rough hands and cold lips—just paying too much attention to those details made me feel disgusted.

“What’s wrong, baby?” the girl murmured, trying to nip at the tip of my ear. I pulled away immediately. “Don’t you want to keep going?”

“I need you to leave.”

“WHAT?” she shrieked, her voice so high-pitched it made my ears ring.

“Did you see me stutter?” I asked, standing up from the bed and tossing her clothes at her as she sat there, scrunching her face in confusion.

Quickly, I pulled on my pants and opened the door, motioning for her to leave. After storming out of the studio earlier, I’d been so agitated that all I could think about was burying myself in someone else. But, as usual, I failed.

No matter how much I drank or how carefully I chose a random girl who resembled her, nothing could erase that damn woman from my mind.

I walked down the hotel hallway and stopped in front of her door. I hesitated, but then I grabbed the handle and walked in.

The place was a mess—broken items on the floor, shards of glass scattered everywhere, rumpled sheets, and a shattered mirror.

A smear of blood in the middle of it all.

This was all my fault.

And there was no sign of her.

I left the room, my heart pounding in my throat with desperation. It wasn’t like this hadn’t happened before, but this time was different. This time, I hadn’t wanted to mess everything up.

Panting, I stopped at the reception desk, where I heard something faint—a melody, played on a guitar. I followed the sound, my gut leading the way, while my stomach twisted tighter with every step.

Out on the balcony overlooking the pool, there she was, bathed in soft blue light.

Her makeup was smudged, her clothes damp, her hands bloodied. A cigarette hung from her lips, and a guitar rested on her lap. Her outward chaos was laid bare for all to see, and yet she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

“To have your chest, once consumed by flames, reduced to ashes. My tears put it out—they erased everything I painted of you.” She sang with a voice that was both steady and heartbreaking. “But it’s okay, because tomorrow I’ll have amnesia after another wasted night, and you’ll be free to repeat our vicious cycle. Because tomorrow, baby, I’ll have amnesia.”

Everything that hurt in her was because of me, and no matter how hard I tried to keep her at arm’s length, I always found a way to ruin things.

This song wasn’t about anything but us—about everything we’d been forced to endure these past few months and how lonely it had made her feel.

That was the only reason I rejected the song. I couldn’t bear to confront reality every time I had to sing those verses on stage.

Her face lifted as she stubbed out her cigarette on the table beside her. Her hollow eyes met mine, and for a few seconds, she closed them again and took a deep breath.

“I’m leaving.” She said, standing from the chair and placing the guitar on it. “If you came here to talk, I’d really appreciate it if you spared me the sound of your voice after the day I’ve had.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, Noah?” She asked, stepping toward me slowly. “I can guarantee you that seeing you with someone else in your bed wasn’t what ruined the rest of my night—not after a damn journalist humiliated me in front of over 100,000 people live. You don’t need to apologize by making my life about you!”

“I should’ve gone after you, but…”

“But you’re weak.”

Her words froze me in place. My fists clenched tightly in my pockets, mirroring the tension in my jaw. She was right.

“If you came after me, what would the internet think, huh? That you're involved again with the trainwreck who screamed at you while high at Sick New World, right?” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Screw it, though. If I’m always blamed, I might as well live up to the reputation!”

“Stop talking nonsense!” I shot back, throwing my hands in the air indignantly.

“Have you checked your phone since you got here?” she asked, though it wasn’t a question that required an answer. “Seen what they're saying about me?”

“We’ve talked about not getting attached to the garbage people post just to provoke you! Wake up! You’re the lead singer of a band that’s won awards for your talent. We’ve been in this together for years, and it’s finally working out. Don’t let it mess with your head!” I declared, tapping my temple for emphasis. “Don’t give them what they want.”

She shot back bitterly. “You forget that my biggest enemy hasn’t been the haters—it’s been you!”

Online, I’d never defended her enough, and my silence allowed all sorts of speculations to crush her further. I watched as she withered, becoming a shadow of herself, hiding in public, wearing baggier clothes, and pulling away from fans out of fear. Everything she once loved about this life was now gone.

“You need to bandage that hand,” I said softly.

Instinctively, I reached to touch her, but she recoiled sharply.

“Don’t touch me!” she said, shrinking her shoulders back. “Never touch me again!”

Her tearful voice as she walked back to her room felt like a blade to my chest. All I wanted at that moment was to piece her shattered heart back together.

But it felt impossible, especially when I was just as broken inside.

At the studio, The Grey was being played for the sixth time today.

“Kitty, you messed up the lyrics again,” Matt muttered, not looking up from the computer. “How do you mess up something you’ve sung every day for two years? Seriously!”

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Folio joked, hitting the cymbals afterward like a clown in a circus act. “Avoid sleeping in jeans, Matt.”

“Sorry...” she mumbled, biting her lip. “Should we try again?”

“Fine!” Matt sighed, restarting the track.

When the instrumental began for the seventh time, she missed her cue again. As the song reached the parts demanding her vocal strength, she faltered, her voice out of tune. Her body seemed restless, and her face bore the exhaustion of a terrible night’s sleep.

“I’m done for today,” I growled, putting down the microphone and sitting back. “Maybe you should rehearse when you’re not hungover.”

“I’m not hungover!”

“Oh, so it’s just the look you get after snorting all night?”

“NOAH!” Matt shouted, trying to cut off the argument before it escalated. “We’re all tired, and it’s fine to pick this up tomorrow.”

“Oh? Would you feel the same if another band member had low performance because they’re on drugs?” I snapped at him. “Is it okay to forget lyrics, skip rehearsals, go off-key on stage, and miss almost every meeting because she’s always asleep?”

“Here we go again,” Ruffilo muttered under his breath.

“Stop talking like I’m not right here!” she yelled from her spot. “I’ve been unwell and am catching up now. It’s easy for you to play superior when your greatest contribution to the band is handing out backstage passes to every girl you sleep with!”

“Screw you!” I snarled, glaring at her furiously. She didn’t hesitate to turn her back and storm out.

As I drained a can of energy drink, sitting with my arms resting on my knees, I watched from across the yard as she smiled—really smiled—for the first time in days while Jolly and Ruffilo tended to the cut on her hand.

A pang of envy hit me. My friends could make her laugh while I only seemed to provoke her tears, anger, and the harshest words a person could utter.

Her life seemed brighter without me in it.

“You were too harsh today, man,” Folio said, flopping onto the couch beside me and glancing in the same direction.

“I’m exhausted and can’t control the crap coming out of my mouth lately,” I admitted.

“Especially with her, huh?” he quipped sarcastically. “She had a panic attack this morning after seeing some stuff online. They’re comparing her appearance now to when the band started. Plus, some private messages with her mom leaked. You know how she gets when her mom’s involved.”

We rarely discussed personal lives in the band, even though we knew enough about each other. There were things better left unsaid.

But one night, after a little too much to drink, we opened up. I told her about my fears, and she shared her insecurities. I understood what she was feeling now. She’d never told anyone else anything like that before.

“Try to forget about the band for a moment when you’re around her, Noah. I know this is your life—it’s mine too, and the guys’—but above all, we’re just humans on the road, missing home. She’s no different.”

Folio gave me a couple of firm pats on the shoulder before walking off.

In the van ride to the label, I stayed quiet, listening to my friends laugh and joke to distract her. I was so scared of saying something wrong that I avoided joining in. Occasionally, I felt her eyes on me, and it was impossible not to look back.

Her hair flowed in the breeze from the open window, the soft sunlight highlighting her face and blushing her cheeks. The subtle way she scrunched her nose made me forget where I was and where we were headed.

I’d been lying to myself for months, but the truth was, I could never stop loving her—even if I tried. And I wasn’t foolish enough to even attempt it.

As everyone else jumped out of the van, I slowed my pace to walk alongside her. My hands fidgeted in my hoodie pockets as I hesitated before speaking.

“When the meeting’s over, we can rehearse again. If you want,” I said with a heavy sigh, feeling the weight on my shoulders. “I saved the posts about your personal life and asked a friend to help track the account owners. The label’s filing a case.”

“Thanks,” she said, the only word leaving her lips.

“It’s... it’s a good song,” I added, trying again as we approached the elevator. “I’m sure they’ll like it.”

“You’re the most pathetic man I’ve ever met.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw her shoulders shake with a faint laugh. Without another word, she left the elevator on the right floor, greeting the staff politely before heading to the last office.

The song was reviewed, and we added the missing elements. Everyone in the room wore headphones, their expressions neutral but not negative. The dragging moments waiting for their feedback frayed my nerves.

“It’s an interesting track and fits the band’s style,” said the older man at the head of the table, removing his headphones. “That melancholic vibe with echoes of the previous album is genius!”

“I thought of this song as a timeline for the story we want to tell. In The Death Of Peace Of Mind, the narrator refused to move on, looping through memories. In the new project, they could force themselves to open their eyes—with a razor blade.”

“Brilliant, Noah!” he nodded approvingly.

She sat silently at the table, her index finger pressed to her lips. Her phone, facedown beside her arm, buzzed incessantly with notifications. Even muted, the vibrations startled us.

She was visibly shaken.

“I’m glad you liked my last contribution to Bad Omens,” she said abruptly, drawing all eyes to her tired face. “I’m leaving the band.”

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

Hiii! could you maybe write a Grayson x reader fic with a reader who doesn’t feel she is lovable cos her parents were abusive and taught her that?

hi!! thanks for your request, I realise it’s taken me a while to get around to writing it, so very sorry about that. It was a little dark but I’ll gave it a go. pre-warning I’ve never written anything like this before, so if it’s inaccurate or insensitive, I’m very sorry.

title: never good enough

pairing: grayson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: a make out session brings back some unwanted memories that you’re forced to face

warnings: really heated make-out session, suggestive themes (but nothing bad bad), lots of past trauma, swearing, panic attack, abusive parents

a/n: if any of the warnings trigger you, please do not read on, I don’t want to be responsible for someone else’s pain!! I’d feel so guilty!!

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @heartwithsimplenotes @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual

I like the way he tastes and the feel of his lips on mine. It’s not something I see myself getting bored of. It feels nice. But what feels nicer is the feeling of someone desiring you, someone wanting you, maybe even needing you. The feeling that someone chose you for a reason, because you matter to them. I like that feeling the best.

With each kiss I imagine that he actually feels something for me. It’s easier to play pretend. If you play pretend for long enough it can start to feel like reality. Growing up, I used to create things in my head all the time. Fictitious fantasies to fill in my empty voids of emotion. I suppose the habit had bled into my adult life.

He moans against my lips. The sound of pleasure indicating I’ve done something right, something he enjoys. My heart swells at this symbol of approval. Why do I thrive off of approval? I shake the feeling away in another deep kiss, burying it under a mound of other things I was ignoring. If I can’t see them they’re not there, if I turn my back, if I close my eyes.

These kisses are meaningless really, my brain knows it, actually it keeps attempting to remind me but I’ve gotten quite good at discarding things people say. They hurt my heart but not my head.

Grayson isn’t one to display how he feels for me publically. He’s mentioned before that he feels he doesn’t need to display how he feels to the world, he’s doesn’t care what the world thinks, he only cares what I think. It’s a beautifully designed excuse to tell me secretly that he doesn’t want to show affection in public because he doesn’t want me. I’m an embarrassment to love. I always have been.

But I don’t care. Our private moments together are bliss because I get to escape the truth and I like that. The truth is bitter like the cud, it’s harsh, it’s cruel, it’s painful. I’ve had too much of that already. So in the moments where I can I indulge so much I blind myself from it, I revel in the occasion. For the while.

His hands are firmly on my hips and I can feel the warmth of them through my clothes. They feel strong and supportive. They might be the only thing holding me together right now or it feels like it anyway. My hands are buried deep within his hair but I’m too caught up in the moment to think about it much. His kisses are quick and sweet, a little gentle. Sometimes he’d draw one or two out into longer, more passionate kisses. I didn’t care, as long as his lips were on mine, my memories would be forgotten. He begins to slide his hand up my body, tracing the curves of my bodice and up all the way until his cupping my face in his hands.

“I love you,” he pants, cheeks rosy and flushed, as we pull apart for breath, “more than you’ll ever know.”

Every time he says those words it ignites yet another fragment of my heart, that burns into ash in my chest. He’s killing me softly and I’m sure he’s enjoying it. He’s just telling me he loves me so I’ll stay with him, give him what he wants until he’s bored enough. That’s fine. I don’t mind. I know this, I’ve always known this. But getting to live in these moments, these moments laced in fierce passion and licked with flames of lust always made the harsh reality easier to swallow.

I don’t reply. Instead I kiss harder, more intensely. Maybe if I kiss with even more vigor, even more passion I can completely forget my pain. Maybe my mind will go blank and won’t be able to fill it in this time. I want the piercing sensation of white light to hit me and if it does I will let it burn me. Until my memories are incinerated and I no longer have to live with the weight of fear on my chest

He registers my sudden serge for more and begins to deliver. He matches my yearning for something deeper, something more. We’re caught up in heavy breathing, racing hearts and profuse sweating. Neither one of us cared. My hands find the hem of his shirt and I am tempted to tug down on the fabric but I don’t trust myself. My mind is too hypnotised by the sweet poison of his persuasive lips, I don’t know what I’m doing. I can’t make decisions like these. We’ve never gone further than kisses and I’m not sure if going further right now would make me feel better or worse. But who cares right?

No. I don’t let myself get that carried away. Not yet anyway. Even though I’ve previously been stripped of my dignity I will not be the one to do it to myself now. I take my hands away and slide them around the back of his neck.

We stop. Suddenly. And for a moment the standstill is uncomfortable. The absence of married lips is eerie almost. My mouth is tingling and I crave his taste already, it hasn’t been two seconds. It’s worse than drugs. I don’t want to stop kissing, every time we stop it opens a window for me to remember. A window I’ve been trying to avoid for far too long now.

He looks into my eyes and for a second I actually believe I’m wanted. Pools of gray, like a clear lake glistening in the moonlight. Pretty eyes, pretty face, pretty lips. But pretty doesn’t get you love. He smiles at me gently, a quiet kindness sparkles in his eyes. Sometimes I wonder how he is so perfect at forging this tenderness, how he claimed these masterful acting skills.

He trails his fingers gently down my face. It feels like he cares, the tentative manor misleading. Then suddenly I’m no longer in the apartment with Grayson. I’m back in my old house. No. I couldn’t be here. Not here. Anywhere but here. I don’t want to be back here. I escaped, I ran, I left, it was all over. I made sure it was over. I, I, I -

I’m back.

Sat on the living room sofa, that horrible itchy dull grey sofa, that appeared in my nightmares frequently. It even smells the same. The sour smell, that makes my stomach flip and my hands begin to shake. These four walls still haunt me. It looks as if they’re closing in, slowly, slowly. Like the room is getting smaller and I’m trapped. Claustrophobia seems to be my only companion.

My hands shake uncontrollably and no matter what I try and do to calm down, nothing works. I thought I was getting better, I thought I was coping well, I thought that it was going away. But this is proving otherwise.

I’m reliving a memory. A memory I’ve always wanted to forget. A memory scorched into my brain that tended to replay over and over like a relentless broken record that could never be smashed. I feel sick. I know what’s coming. No. I know who is coming.

His footsteps are an immediate giveaway and the faint smell of alcohol lingering in the air. I’m curled in a ball down, small, hiding like a helpless animal in a hole. If I curl up maybe it won’t happen. Maybe he won’t see me.

“What are you doing?”

A shiver runs down my spine. Every note in his voice is exactly how I remember it. The question echos around my head but I say nothing in reply. My words won’t form in my state of paralysis.

“Answer me girl!” my father barks. His voice venomous, dangerous.

“Nothing,” I reply quickly.

He grabs my arm, his fingers so tight around me that I’m sure that they’ll be bruises forming soon. He yanks me up as I attempt to cower backwards.

“Don’t take that tone with me you whore,” he spits in my face, the pungent wreaking of alcohol on his breath as he throws me to the floor.

I hit it with a thud. A dull aching thud. Just like the dull aching monotony of this scene that was just a part of every day life back then. I don’t move from the ground, I’ve learnt not to fight back. That only landed me in hospital last time. I lay there so still I hope he thinks I’m dead so he’ll leave me alone. He does not. He knows better. Unfortunately for me, he knows his daughter.

“You’re nothing but a piece of shit,” growls the voice that makes my blood curdle, “you hear that?”

I thought I’d left him far behind. I thought he was gone. I thought wrong. I am naive and I’m the idiot I have always been. I don’t reply again. There’s nothing to reply with. Of course I heard.

“I said, you HEAR that?” he screams it louder.

I don’t reply. Stupid mistake but he doesn’t give me time to undo it. He’s already standing over me. It had already begun.

***

He beats my body until my brittle bones long to snap. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry. Those four words repeat over and over in my head. They might be the only thing keeping me conscious. No matter how much it hurts he cannot know he’s won. I refuse to hand him that victory of a silver platter, decorated in my jewels of agony.

And for a split second I wonder where my mother is and I don’t even know why. She would’ve do anything, she never did. She just stood there, emotionales, detached. Mothers are meant to protect and defend their children against anything in the world, it made me wonder why mine did not. It made me wonder if I were born to different people or maybe not born at all if things might be better off.

It’s not the time for thinking, I’m reminded. Another kick. I will not cry. A punch. I will not cry. My lip splits open. I will not cry. A twist of my left arm. I will not cry, I think my nose is broken. I will not cry.

“Stubborn little bitch won’t even shed a tear,” he snarls, bitterness so evident on his tongue I was surprised it hasn’t dissolved yet.

Yes I am stubborn. No I will not cry. Not for him. And then it happens. All over again. Beaten, bruised, battered, broken.

I can’t breathe. I’m in so much agony there’s no way I could even scream. So tears roll softly down my face as I’m curled up on the floor in defeat, desperation and humiliation. My body is nearly motionless, my limbs lay slack at my sides. I can’t help myself and no one is coming to save me. I let myself cry, broke the only promise I had to myself. I’m even betrayed my own brain for him.

I look up at him, tear streaked face. Is he happy now? Is he finally happy with me? Am I finally going to revive some sort of approval? Stupid questions to be wondering when I know exactly how this story ends.

As my eyes meet his, my father trails his fingers gently down my face. It still stings from the slap, the cells on my cheek screaming in agony. There’s the faint tinge of metallic blood in my mouth. My father trails his fingers gently down my face. Grayson trails his fingers gently down my face. My father trails his fingers gently- Grayson trails his fingers- My father trails- Grayson tr- my father Grayson my father Grayson my father Grayson my father.

SNAP.

I shiver and jerk away suddenly standing up. I try to back away as Grayson’s eyes fill with concern.

“What’s wrong,” he asks me, trying to reach out to me. I recoil at his attempt of a touch, like a frightened animal.

“I need to leave,” I barely get out, through my shallow breathing as I turn to find the door.

Where is the door? I couldn’t find the door. Breaths come in quicker and faster. Suffocating. I am suffocating. An invisible man has a plastic bag over my head and he is choking me slowly with it. I’m losing oxygen, I’m losing the things that keeps me alive.

Grayson is on his feet beside me, careful not to touch me, “did I do something wrong?”

“No, it’s not you,” I pant, so breathless I wonder if I’m still breathing at all, “it’s all me.”

Dizziness rolls over me and I close my eyes. I feel my body sway slightly, my sense of balance robbed from me. A pair of strong hands catch my waist and pull me upright again. I try and focus my eyes but the room is spinning.

“Woah, hey,” it’s Grayson’s soft voice, “come here.”

That’s when I realise his hands are touching me. I try to pull away but can’t see where I’m going. I can’t see anything as black dots dance across my vision.

“No!” I yell, my ear beginning to ring.

“Hey, stop,” he says gently, ”sit down and take a breath.”

“No I can’t, I can’t, you don’t understand,” I hyperventilate, my chest in so much pain.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he murmurs rhythmically, extending his hand out towards me for me to take if I wanted.

I flinch away. His eyes are deep with realisation, he knows, he understands. I’ve given my secret away.

“Who hurt you?”

His voice is almost ragged, almost angry. His eyes are blazing, the soft grey hardens into cold steel. I open my mouth but no sound comes out. The words are unable to be spoken, they feel to forbidden. I don’t think I’d ever admitted my childhood out loud. I need air, fresh air. I can’t breathe. I need to breathe.

I feel like I’m drowning. Water blurring my vision, my heat pounding in my chest, my lungs screaming at me for the oxygen I cannot give them. My limbs frozen in a state of paralysis, heavy as lead, dragging me down. I can’t kick myself to the surface, I’m helplessly lost. All I can do I stare up and watch the last sight I’ll probably ever see. Sinking, sinking, sinking. I think I can feel my lungs fill up. They burn as if eager flames are licking the internal organ in pleasure. I can hear someone’s voice, it’s muffled, like there’s water in my ears. I can’t make out what they’re saying. I wonder if this person will haul my body from the water or they’ll give up on me like everyone else.

“It’s okay,” the voice is soft and sweet, it becomes clearer by the second, “don’t say anything, just focus on breathing for me, okay?”

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne. I take one look into his silvery grey eyes and in this second trust him with my everything. My heart is racing and I can hear my sharp intakes of breath. I manage a small nod as he helps me back down onto the bed, propping pillows up behind my back. I’m sweating, profusely and I feel revolting. The tremor in my hands is slowing slightly as he clasps them in his.

“I need you to breathe,” he tells me, making direct eye contact.

My chest is so constricted it physically hurts. The aching only grows the more I think about it but I can’t seem to stop. Hair is stuck to the back of my neck and the side of my face. I slick it back using my own sweat.

“I… can’t…” I manage to get out in breathless gasps.

“Yes you can,” he murmurs, “look at me, focus on me.”

I do.

“Yes you can,” he repeats, his voice strong, confident full of faith. Faith for me.

I close my eyes and attempt to slow my rapid breathing. I feel his fingers around my wrist, squeezing a little to check my pulse. He is warm against my cool skin. I reach for his hand with my other one and guide it slowly to my chest. I want to feel his hand on my heart. I want him as close as possible. His hand is on me with my hand pressed firmly against it. I open my eyes and stare at him, wondering if he could read my pleading eyes as well as I could read his compassionate ones. Mellow grey stares back at me in understanding. He keeps his hand on my heart.

“Don’t let go,” I whisper, “please.”

“I’m not letting go,” he murmurs back, “don’t worry, I’m here. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

In and out. In and out. In and out. I try to calm myself. It’s not like I’ve ever faced something like this before, I’d just never faced it in someone’s presence. The fear of him seeing me in this state of vulnerability, stripped of my many masks that tell the world I am okay when I’m not, that made it all worse.

But with some time, that could’ve been two minutes of two hours, my breathing slows, becomes more regulated. Things begin to calm down. I’m no longer sweating uncontrollably though my body is still wet. My shaking hands grow stiller by the second as I fiddle with the ring on my middle finger. Finally my heart rate begins to go down. I hear it less in my ears and feel it less in my chest. But it’s still there.

Grayson’s hand has still not left my heart, just like I asked. Gently I place my hand on his, and guide it back to his lap, letting him silently know he’d done his job. I take a hair tie and throw my hair up into an abomination on my head that I’m too tired to care about.

Grayson’s features have twisted into a way that almost makes him look worried. His eyes are larger than usual, his pupils dilated, swallowing up the comforting concrete grey. His eyes brows are pinched inwards slightly, only just and his lips are parted as if he wants to ask a question but can’t find the words. I want to pretend this look is real, I want to pretend he’ll still want me even after seeing me in my state, I want to pretend that this time it’s different. But I can’t afford to pretend anymore.

“Better?” he asks quietly, after a long period of silence.

“Better,” I rasp, my voice so hoarse it’s unfamiliar to me.

I rest my head back and close my eyes. Breathing in and out normally feels like a luxury now. I’m suddenly more grateful than I’ve even been for a steady flow of air to my lungs. Once I’m completely back to normal I make eye contact with Grayson. His face is difficult to read.

“What happened back there?” he asks me quietly, almost looking guilty for the question.

“What do you mean?” I reply, confused. Hadn’t he been there, hadn’t he seen?

“Why did you start to panic,” he clarifies, “what did I do to set it off?”

I want to shoot the conversation down there and then. Absolutely not. I am not ready to tell him anything, I don’t want him to know. I don’t want him to look at me different because of it.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say quickly, averting my eyes.

“Of course it does,” he presses further, “sweetheart I love you and-

Oh those three words. How the act as another knife to my chest every time. I love you is not meant for girls like me, I love you is meant for people who are worthy and special, I love you has never once been said to me with any true meaning behind it.

“Stop,” I snap, the word louder and harsher than I intended. It silently echoes through the empty space and takes a moment to sink in.

“What?” he asks after a few beats, confusion distorting his features.

“Just stop that,” I almost yell, as I go to get up, “stop doing that.”

“What am I doing?” he asks quickly.

“You’re lying to me,” I say, my voice wavering when I really didn’t want it to.

“What?”

“Every time you say those stupid words and I can’t afford to believe them,” I exclaim, welling up with this sudden surge of emotion.

“Slow down sweetheart,” he says slowly, “what are you talking about?”

“I know you don’t love me,” I shout. I’m exhausted. Exhausted of living this lie and now I’m at my breaking point and I can’t afford to continue. There are too many lies, in my head, in my heart, in my life. This one I want to be rid of.

“What?”

“I know it so you can stop pretending I matter, that I mean something to you,” I sob.

Great. Now I’m crying again. Again. Pouring out my weaknesses for him to see. I’ve never felt so unbelievably helpless.

“What are you talking about? Of course I love you,” he says it as of I’ve said something stupid or in gibberish.

Of course. Why of course? It isn’t obvious and I’m not an idiot. I’m stood here crying and he has the audacity to tell me this. I look him dead in the eye, my vision blurred a little due to the heaviness of my heart.

“No one can love me.” My voice is low and laced with the agony I’m so desperately trying to conceal.

“Who told you that?” he asks.

How did he know? How could he see through my mask so easily? Was it cracked, had it slipped or was it just all transparent now?

“I didn’t need to be told, it’s just how I am,” I spit back, hoping my bitterness might deter him.

“No,” Grayson replies, his voice so sharp it cut dangerously through the air like a knife.

“What?”

“No, that’s not how you are,” he says, “because I love you.”

He digs a finger into his chest in attempts to prove his point, it looks hard enough to hurt but he doesn’t wince.

“Stop saying that!” I yell over him, “it makes it more painful, every time you say it, it’s like a stab in the heart and I can’t take it anymore.”

I expect him to get angry, to stand up and hurl insults at me. We’ve never argued before. But instead his face softens. “I’m not lying,” he tells me gently, his voice like caramel, “how could I lie?”

He’s not lying? Or at least that’s what he’s telling me. But the softness of his eyes look like he means it. No. I can’t let myself be so naive, I can’t believe everything I’m told, I’ve learnt that the hard way.

“Everyone who I’ve ever trusted has lied to me, why would that make you any different?” I ask bitterly.

“Because I do love you,” he tells me, “with all of my heart. You don’t understand what you do to me. I can’t stop thinking about you, even when you’re not around, you’re the main character of all my thoughts and dreams for that matter. Not a moment goes by without a thought involving you. You are the other half of my heart, you have it, you stole it from me the day we met. And I don’t even care because if I were to meet any thief I would choose you every time and I’m so glad you took it. I mean goddamit, you mean everything to me, everything. I would die for you without thinking twice, without even blinking,” he says, “I just wish you could see yourself how I do. And whoever made you feel this way never deserved a fraction of you. Your beauty, your kindness, your love. They truly didn’t.”

I don’t say anything for a long while. I’m too awestruck. He loves me. He really actually loves me unconditionally. He always did and I always pushed that notion away.

I’ve never said anything about my past out loud. It makes it less real, I can forget if I bury it. Except I can’t I’ve tried and tried desperately to do so but relentlessly as ever my brain has never let it go.

“My father,” I choked horsely, “my abused me physically from when I was young. I thought it was normal.”

Something twists in Grayson’s stomach, I can see it all over his face. He looks ill, all the colour has drained from his face and his eyes are sorrowful, mournful even.

“But the bruises, they were okay,” I murmur, “even the scars, I could deal with them. It was my mother who cut the deepest, without even laying a finger on me. Her words were…” I attempt to pull myself together, “…her words left scars no one will ever be able to understand.”

“I’m sorry.”

The words are so quiet I can barely hear him. He looks mortified.

“It’s not your fault,” is all I can reply with. There’s nothing else to say.

“No one should have to-“

“But they do,” I choke, my voice getting shaky again, “and you know what, I’m tired.”

I wish I didn’t feel this weak, this powerless. Tears start free flowing down my cheeks, uncontrollably. Salty droplets leave glistening trails on my cheeks like in some sort of abstract painting in an art museum.

“I’m tired of this pain,” I sob, “I just want it to go away, I just want to be normal.”

The pain wracks my body. Grayson takes me into his open arms and holds me to the warmth of his chest. I nuzzle into him, seeking comfort I’d never received from anyone else. I cling to him like a frightened child to their mother, my knuckles white. I’m almost scared to let go, incase that means I have to let go forever. I can hear his steady heartbeat against my ear. I sob louder, my body physically beginning to ache from the crying.

“Hey, shhhh,” he soothes, stroking a soft hand down my hair, “you’re going to get through this and I’m going to help you.”

“How?” I wail. I’m hysterical and I hate it, but it’s taken control of me now.

“We just are, I promise,” he says, so much passion, so much faith behind the words. I want to believe him but I’ve had too many promises broken.

“I thought I was getting better,” I laugh bitterly, the tears flowing thicker and faster and harder, “I thought that I was coping better with all of this and now this is just proof that I’m not.”

I get it all off of my chest, words I’ve longed to speak for so long, the ones that have been locked away and avoided. I can say them. Freely. The caged bird is remembering she has wings, remembering she could once fly.

“Listen to me,” Grayson says, his voice clear, defined, “what you’ve been through isn’t something you just get over overnight, it’s not something you can wash away.”

“Why can’t it be?” I ask, snivelling in an attempt to gulp back my tears that seemed to be endless.

“It doesn’t work that way love,” he says, his voice so soft it could melt butter but instead it melts my heart.

“But…” I trail off into more sobs. I can’t carry on. Words are not enough to describe what I’m feeling, they’re not deep enough, the they aren’t raw enough.

I sob uncontrollably feeling more humiliated by the second. Loud, ugly, horrible sobs. When things are buried you don’t realise that they’ll eventually resurface. My body jolts backwards and forwards each time I let out a cry.

He pulls me close to his chest and whispers sweet nothings to me to comfort me. He doesn’t say anything the whole time. Somehow he knows that’s what I need. He just holds me, lets me know he’s there with the melodic rise and fall of his comfortable chest. He’s so gentle, so soft, he makes me feel fragile and delicate like a sharp of glass. I cry until I’m so dehydrated that there are no tears left and I’m so exhausted that I want to pass out.

And even then he stays holding onto me, supporting my broken body. He holds me, holding all my dilapidated pieces together, keeping me from falling apart. He cradled my head in my arms and tentatively strokes my hair. I feel myself relax a little more, I feel myself shut my eyes. Suddenly I’m aware of a sensation in my chest. At first I think it’s the panic coming back to prey on me some more but the feeling is too calming. It’s spreading across the left side of my chest, tingling a little but in a ticklish manor. It’s almost a warmth.

Is this what love feels like?

I open my eyes and sit up. What am I roping him into? He doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve to be held back by someone like me. He could have anyone, any body in this whole world. I’m the last person he needs in his life.

“You don’t have to do this,” I say trying to pull myself free of his arms but his grip is tight, oddly reassuring. He’s not going to let me go, he’s not planning on leaving, he wants to say. To take care of me.

“Do what?” he asks, brushing some loose baby hairs out of my puffy face.

“The door is wide open, feel free to walk out on this,” I explain with an elaborate hand gesture, “you don’t have to deal with me.”

“The door is firmly bolted shut and no one will be walking out,” he tells me slowly, “you’re not a problem to be dealt with, you’re a person. A wonderful, beautiful, spectacular person, that I have the pleasure of loving.”

Tears well up in my eyes for what feels like the hundredth time today, I’ve never cried so much in my life. The recurring lump in my throat makes another appearance. I don’t mean to get so emotional, but I do. I’m so used to being strong I suppose there’s only so much one person can take before they burst. I feel loved and wanted and needed and cared for, everything I’ve always wished for. Here is a man giving me all of that and more.

“And what if I don’t know how to be loved?” I whisper, fear clamouring up my throat.

“Then I’ll show you,” he whispers, pulling me closer to his chest.

“I’m going to get it wrong,” I panic, “I don’t know how to love.”

“Yes you do,” he soothes, “I know you do because I can feel it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, I hurt people when I love them,” I tell him as he gently caresses my hair, running his fingers through it.

“You aren’t going to hurt me,” he says, “look at me sweetheart, I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere. Ever. We’re going to get through this together, okay?”

I nod, my heart not feeling so heavy. I lean further into Grayson and let him kiss the top of my head. The small gesture meaning mountains more because I know he loves me. And for the first time in a long time I smile, a real true smile. And it feels nice.

a/n: again, I’ve never written anything like this before so idk if it did it right 😭😭 anyways so sorry for it taking so long, hope you enjoyed

TIG masterlist

[redeyerhaenyra]

perv neighbor basil smut im begging u

Perv!Neighbour Basil finds your camgirl account

Summary: Basil is your neighbour, and after having formed a parasocial relationship with you, he finds your camgirl account. Things get.. a little out of hand.

Warnings: Oh man this one is filthy- Stalking, Parasocial relationships, m masturbation, cum tribute, professional sex work, cumming untouched, jealously, crying, like alot of crying, sextoy use, f reader

Notes: Myself and @ominoose have been bouncing this headcanon around in the dms for a bit and I finally have the opportunity to write it! I hope you like it baby tysm for requesting xx I really got carried away like this is SO LONG my goodness- This can be read as a part 2 to this fic but can also be enjoyed standalone x

Basil has been watching you for a while

You're his neighbour, you moved in to the flat opposite him a couple months ago, and the only verbal interaction you'd had with him was a polite introduction through his letterbox when he wouldn't open the door

You hadn't seen him at all, physically. He'd seen you though.

Oh had he seen you

His heart swelled every morning and evening he'd watch you leave and come home from work, nights out, trips to the shop, ect

His relationship to you, practically non-existent as it were, at least from your perspective, was... complicated

Half of Basil understood you two were already dating, loyal to one another. The other half of him understood that that was a fantasy, and he often found himself caught between the two realities

Poor Basil so desperately wants the untruth to become the truth. He wants to kiss you, profess his love, have it be your hand tugging him off instead of his own every night

But since the... accident, he wouldn't dare let you see him. You'd never accept him- no one would. He was a monster

Poor baby, so insecure 😔

Eventually, jerking off whilst peering at you through the letterbox whenever you enter or exit your home isn't enough. He needs to see you, properly. Stare at your beautiful face and take in all it's contours and shapes without having to have you do the same to him

And so.. he goes online.

He knows your name- you'd told him when you'd tried to be a nice neighbour and say hi, and so with a little sleuthing, he finds your Instagram

Basil spends hours pouring through your every photo, getting wildly jealous and crying (yes he cries poor baby) when he sees photos with other men, and roughly pulling on his cock until its red and raw, having cum so many times over his thighs and chest.

He becomes even more obsessed, his need to see you covered in his cum in some way or another becomes an vital as eating and drinking

He starts printing out your photos and cumming on them- considers laminating them so he can wipe them clean and go all over again

But then what about keeping them covered? Forever staining you with his seed? He can't pick

One day, when he's going about his ritual of jerking it to your insta, he finds a new link in your bio;

"18+ site! Adult only content! Click here❤️"

That perks his interest

Sure he's not stranger to porn, or camgirls, what with all the time he spends alone watching porn, but you? He'd never have assumed.

Basil's heart races, and his dick twitches beneath his sweats

Tentatively, he clicks on the link

Your website looks professional, all properly set up

The first thing he sees is a trailer video- and oh boy

He literally cannot stop the sudden, untouched orgasm flooding through him when he sees the sneak peak you've put together of your content

He's so loud moaning and whining, tears well up again in his eyes becuase he's so sensitive but he needs more

This teaser video of you playing with your nipples and rubbing your tiny pussy through your panties isn't enough

And so, Basil goes to your subscription page. Immediately gets the highest sub deal, he doesn't care if he can't afford it. He needs you so much he'd bankrupt himself if he had to

The benefits of this subscription are many; He gets access to your work DM, he gets two video calls with you a week, and he gets to request some content from you.

Basil couldn't not be happier, he even forgts about his facial insecurity when a few minutes later he sees a message from you pop up on his notifs;

"Hi baby! Thankyou so so much for becoming one of my top donors! It really does mean the world x"

He forces himself to respond, anxiety creeping up his shoulder;

"Yeah np love your work."

Jesus he didn't mean to come off so dickish

You quell his feelings of worry with a smiley emoji, and ask him "So, what's with the username? "Lightningface"?"

He gulps. "I just like lightning is all."

"It is such a pretty phenomenon."

Pretty.. you'd called it pretty. The thing that had maimed him, his deformity... might you have called that pretty too?

"Soooo you're due to request some content from me! What would you like?"

And honestly, Basil isn't sure

Anything you'd give him, he'd take

"I don't mind."

"Are you sure? It is your request that you've paid me for, you can ask for whatever you like!"

Basil really thinks for a moment. A real head scratcher.

"Can you say my name?"

Basil doesn't realise how possessive he sounds

"Sure can!"

"Can it be my irl name?"

"Of course! What is it?"

The man holds his breath as he responds; "Basil. Like the herb."

"Omg!!! That's such a cute name!"

He giggles to himself, you're so fucking adorable he loves you so much

You tell him you'll make his request into a segment during your next livestream

He's jealous, he doesn't want you performing for anyone else.. but like I said, he'll take what he can get

Most of the time until his segment of your livestream he spends crying and jerking off in a strange cycle.

You're his, you shouldn't be showing off.. he feels like you've betrayed him. But at the same time you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen

Poor Basil is so conflicted

Finally, however, his request segment begins

You smile sweetly at the camera, and wave

"So, next up, I have a request from one of my top donors, he has such a cute name! Said he didn't mind what I did so I think i'm gonna surprise him~"

You reach to the side, pulling forth a clear silicone dildo

It's big. Basil gulps, could you take it? What if it hurt you?

You place it beneath you on your bed and slowly tease it between your folds, having already discarded all your clothes at this point

Basil chokes, his worn out cock stirring to life again

And then.. oh then..

You moan out his name, slowly sinking yourself onto the sextoy

Basil moans with you, and figures you must have an expensive microphone because the sounds coming from the screen are all but blasphemous

He loses himself to the rhythmic squelching of your cunt and your moans of his names

He cums so quickly, and there's so much of it, all over his chest

Poor baby whimpers, trying desperately to coax his poor dick back to life, not wanting to have finished so quickly

He wanted to last longer for you..

Luckily you finish not too long after him, he wants to swallow all of your sounds with his mouth

He's never seen such perfection

Glistening with sweat and panting, satisfied, you address the camera for the final time that night;

"I hope you enjoyed Basil, again thankyou so much for donating, I love you all so much, goodnight!"

You end the stream, Basil is plunged back into the dark loneliness of his flat

He sits for a few moments, taking in what just happened..

He soon finds himself looking at wedding rings online

[callmelittlesunshinefics]

Hello, Little Girl (Part One)

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) x Reader

Summary: You have been living at Xavier's school for a few years now, feeling slightly out of place as a Nephilim from another universe but welcome nonetheless. When something pops up that has no business being in this universe you're sent gearing up for a mission that you would rather leave the X-Men out of, but an anxious endless and overprotective step-uncle-devil insist on this being worked as a team.

A/N: The title is an Into the Woods reference for no good reason other than that I couldn't help myself. We're also loosely using X2 Logan purely because of the kitchen scene, but in reality it's an AU.

Some quick background, the reader (Y/N in fic, described with she/her pronouns) is based off of an OC I tend to pull out pretty frequently. Half human, half angel, displaced from their home universe and dropped into this one, with characters from Lucifer (show/comics) and The Sandman (show/comics) making appearances despite not existing in the Marvel Universe. *shrug* TW: Alcohol use, swearing, mature/explicit themes down the line in subsequent chapters so MDNI

Feedback/questions/comments HUGELY appreciated as it took me a long ass time to say f it and post this <3

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Word Count: 3,437

It was late when you arrived, but that was part of your plan. You didn’t want too much of a fuss and had plenty of groceries to put away, everyone made a big fuss out of missing your cooking when you announced your departure, so you were sure to come back with all the essentials you knew you’d be asked to make in the coming days. It was late to start cooking, even by your standards, but the silence in the house was so deep that you were certain starting some baked goods wouldn’t be the cause of any commotion. You got to work with plenty of butter, flour, sugar, and eggs on hand. All of the basics you would need to make as many things as possible. 

You got started on big batches of basics; chocolate chip cookies, brownies, dough for cinnamon rolls to serve tomorrow morning. You had several bowls in various stages of prep when you fell silent, realizing you were no longer alone. 

“If I had known you were here I swear I wouldn’t have started,” you turned, explaining yourself to the only person it could be, “You’re the only one who could’ve heard any of this from three floors away.” 

Logan shook his head in the negative and unlocked the fridge that stored alcohol for the adults of the mansion, grabbing two beers. He held one out to you that you accepted, and he took a large sip of his before explaining. 

“I was up as soon as you landed in the kitchen,” he referenced your unique method of travel, shrugging, “You might be flying too fast to see, but I heard you.” 

You smirked, “Yet you waited until the cookie dough was just about ready…” 

He shrugged, “Figured you’d be so happy to see your favorite in the house you’d be more likely to sneak me some extra.” 

“Were you even asleep?” You cut through the bullshit, and Logan chuckled, “And so confident you’re my favorite?” You teased, “What if it’s Scott?” 

He actually growled and wasn’t ashamed of it, “Don’t say things just to wound me, darlin’.” 

You chuckled to yourself but relented, sharing the cookie dough with the wolverine with an extra spoon you pulled from the drawer as soon as you realized who was snooping. You took a long sip of the beer and hummed, relenting without much of a fight. 

“How many are still here?” He knew what you meant without clarification. 

“Not many, but they’re all older so no one complains about these,” He gestured to the beers between the two of you, “But all of this will be gone by tomorrow.” He meant all of your baked goods and you shrugged. 

“That’s what they’re for, Old Man.” He glared at you, shoveling more cookie dough out of the bowl.

“How long are we going to do this little dance?” He asked looking you dead in the eye. It took a lot to throw you off balance, but Logan was better at doing it than most. 

“Is it your hip? Need a seat, grandpa?” They were coming out half-hearted even to you, and he leveled you with a look to tell you as much as he continued to wait, “Alright look, I’ll admit those weren’t my best, but if you don’t want to keep up the dance how about you just ask me whatever it is you want to know?” 

Logan looked genuinely surprised and you snorted, getting back to work you started to roll out dough that had finished resting for the cinnamon rolls. Logan sat down to watch, sipping his beer and enjoying your company while he worked out how to ask you everything he was thinking without scaring you off. 

He sighed, “When you left you said you couldn’t tell us much, and I understand needing to leave the past in the past better than most.” 

You waited for him to continue as you spread the filling across the dough. There were long silences sometimes between the two of you, but they never felt awkward. Logan didn’t have the gift of gab, but you weren’t in any rush. You learned early on that it was best to give him his time, but you also realized equally early that sometimes Logan sitting down and trying to talk about his feelings was like trying to recite a poem he’s never heard in a language he doesn’t speak.

“If I’m being totally honest, and I will be since it seems like that’s what you’re getting at, I don’t really know if I fixed anything or if I just…” You trailed off and Logan nodded, scooping up more cookie dough. This was the point you realized Logan really wasn’t leaving without more answers from you, any other day and that cookie dough would be a fond memory by now. 

“If they’re sending you for intel it must be pretty bad, huh?”

You finally got a genuine laugh out of him, “No one sent me, bub. The reason I waited for this to be ready first,” he gestured to his snack, “Is because I could smell the stress on you miles away. Whatever sent you runnin off hasn’t let you alone since, matter of time before you accept the fact you need help.” 

You squinted, “Can you actually smell stress or is that an exaggeration?” It may have sounded like a joke but you were genuinely curious and he knew, deciding to humor you. 

“More complicated than I made it sound, but bottom line is yes, bub. Is it my turn to ask a question?” He threw you a signature smirk as you both nursed your drinks, cinnamon rolls temporarily abandoned. You took a deep breath. 

“You’re no stranger to the fact that there are other worlds out there, some like the ones I came from, some much closer than that within this universe.” Logan sobered up quickly, sitting up straighter. He thought it would take more prodding, he didn’t expect you to casually toss him into the deep end. “Does the name Morepheus mean anything to you?” 

Logan shook his head in the negative and you nodded, but he interrupted before you could continue, “Do you want me to wake the professor?” 

You smiled sadly, “I’m going to tell him everything too. But is it alright if I just tell you first, we’ll consider it a first draft. I really have no clue how I’m going to explain this to-” 

“I’m gonna get us some proper drinks, don’t get too ahead of yourself kiddo.” You rolled your eyes and took the break as an opportunity to finish spreading the filling and roll up the cinnamon rolls to rest ahead of slicing and baking. 

Opening up to Logan first thing upon your arrival wasn’t on your bingo card for how your return was going to go, but it wasn’t unwelcome either. Your friendship with Logan was an easy one, but you couldn’t pretend it didn’t get strained in your absence. He knew you weren’t a mutant and that some part of you felt you didn’t belong at the school, didn’t deserve it, but he would be the first to remind you that didn’t matter. Of course, you weren’t fully human either, so what that made you to the team was always a question mark in your own mind. 

Logan returned and began covering your many bowls before you had a chance to tell him what went where, “I take it you’re forcing me into a break?” 

“And some sleep if I’m lucky.” He meant it as a joke but regretted it as soon as he saw your face fall, “But for now moving us into the study with the whiskey.” 

You got the kitchen mostly in a state of order before heading down the hallway to meet Logan by the fire, plate of brownies in hand. If you weren’t painfully aware of the bad news you were about to deliver, it might even feel romantic, huddled near the fire with chocolate and alcohol. You kicked your shoes off and collapsed onto the small couch beside Logan, enough space between the two of you to feel intimate without being crowded. You closed your eyes and leaned backwards into the plush cushions of the couch, taking a deep breath as you tried to pinpoint the start. 

“Now hon the first thing you need to understand is that nothing sent me off running. It may have seemed abrupt to everyone here, except the professor that is, but I was gone the second my head hit the pillow that night. I shut my eyes here and opened them in another world.” You took a deep breath as Logan stared back at you looking like he wasn’t entirely certain if you had completely lost it or were telling him something of dire importance. Once the shock wore off and he remembered who he was speaking to, a nephilim from another universe, he decided if you told him you were pulled into another world, he had no reason to doubt it as fact.

“Do you know where you were?” 

You nodded and pointed to your empty glasses, “It’s not like you to be stingey with the liquor, ever plan on helping a girl out?” 

He rolled his eyes but eagerly poured you both what looked to be maker’s mark. Not your favorite but for the conversation ahead anything would do. You weren’t a lightweight, but you couldn’t be called a drinker either, so you surprised yourself and Logan when you downed the double shot he poured before refilling your own glass and topping off his. You expected a snarky joke or more disapproval of your behavior, but instead the Wolverine just continued to watch you as if he were studying for a test he wasn’t entirely prepared for. 

You didn’t need his heightened senses to see that your behavior was putting him on edge, and you quietly admired this as one of his most underrated abilities. He might not know what you were about to tell him, but his instincts knew before you said the words that you were gearing up for a fight. 

“Have you ever heard of the Endless?” You asked Logan and he slowly shook his head no, “I didn’t think so, at this point most people think of them as myths. Stories that got lost to time and all that. But my Uncle Lu had a few run ins with the family, not all of them good, but you know how he could be…” You wandered off for a bit and Logan felt a chill, as much as he would try to deny it. You mentioned him so casually, your “Uncle Lu”, Lucifer Morningstar, the devil himself. 

“Dream of the Endless dropped in at Lux to see if Lucifer was behind a hex bag found in the dreaming.” You pulled a leather pouch from your pocket and Logan felt all the hair on his arms stand at edge, “It’s unusual here though, this type of magic. Even some of the most powerful magic users in this world haven’t seen anything like it, but to be fair it’s some creative work.” You pulled the drawstrings slightly to open it just enough for Logan to see inside. 

“Bones? And..” He squinted at the bag and you nodded as he finished, “Sand.” 

“It belongs to Dream. Also known as the Sandman, never seen without a raven,” you gestured to the bones in the palm of your hand, “and his sand. They contain fragments of his power, even in this state.” You stared at the item in your hand that weighed on you more heavily than the literal weight of its contents. You felt yourself veering towards tipsy but reached for your glass anyway. 

“The irony of who I’m saying this to isn’t lost on me, but you seem pretty quiet, even for you.” You threw a playful elbow nudge in Logan’s direction and completely missed, he caught your shoulder before you could fall over him onto the couch. His hand stayed on your arm as he shook his head as if to clear his head. 

“Have you seen anything like it?” Logan asked cautiously. If he was being completely honest the direction of this conversation was unsettling him for reasons he couldn’t place, it was a new feeling entirely. 

“That’s the million dollar question,” You smiled sadly, “I’m gonna need a favor, Lo.” You stood up and began  throwing all your strength into sliding the small couch you and Logan had just occupied out of the way, lifting the edge of the rug it had been resting on. You gestured to a particular floorboard, “Can you lift that one?” 

You expected another question or any hesitation really, but Logan stood and did as you asked. You reached into the opening as soon as the board was cleared and pulled out a small bag that looked nearly identical to the one you had shown Logan. 

“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is goin’.” Logan huffed as you returned the floorboard and started to climb back into your seat. 

“Everyone told me the kind of things in the world I came from didn’t exist here, but even when I was with Lucifer and then came here, I couldn’t just…let my guard down?” It sounded like you were asking him a question but you just kept going, “I had been on the run for years, Logan, and everyone was telling me I was safe here, but-” 

“You were stuck in survival mode.” He said it as matter of fact, and you closed your eyes and nodded, “So you hid these here for…protection?” Logan was giving you a break, filling in the gaps he came to understand from what you were telling him and what he already knew about you. 

“Some are for protection,” You nodded, “Some of them actually act as little safeguards too so that if someone or something comes waltzing in here that shouldn’t be, it can bind them to the spot.” 

Logan chuckled, the way you delighted in your clever tricks not lost on him, “Can’t say we couldn’t have used a few of those before you got here,” 

“To be honest, I wasn’t even sure if they would work here. Still not totally sure, can only tell you that this one,” you pointed to the one fallen open with sand and bones, “Managed to work in the dreaming without Morpheus detecting anything.” 

You didn’t need to tell Logan you were scared, your heart rate was erratic enough for him to start to wonder if he should change the subject, shit on Scott for a while or something else guaranteed to get a chuckle out of you. This time a few years ago he might’ve done that, when you were both still new and he didn’t know how quickly you would become pivotal to his life, to everything he knew about who he was, not that he ever said as much. When it came to you Logan wasn’t prepared to take the easy outs, he needed you to tell him everything.  

“How does it work?” It was a careful question asked quietly, vague enough to keep you talking, but not specific enough to spook you. 

“It was basically hijacking some of Dream’s power. Whoever made this used it to create a little pocket dimension for themself deep in the dreaming, the only reason Morpheus found out at all was an increasing number of dreams and nightmares stumbling upon it only to be transported back to Morpheus’s castle with no memory of their hours before.” Your voice was just above a whisper, and you startled a bit when Logan snorted. 

“This guy has a castle?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“You know, some would call this a castle, Logan.” You getured to the mansion you were seated in, tucked away in the cozy study that screamed wealth, intentional or not, “But yes, Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares. No one has that many names and doesn’t have a castle.” 

Logan caught the mocking tone and was grateful to hear it, “So are you telling me you ditched us to go hang out in a castle, Princess?” 

He smirked at you and your heart stuttered for a different reason entirely. Logan being insanely, ridiculously attractive was by no means new to you, but huddled next to the fireplace and calling you ‘Princess’, even jokingly….well, you took a deep breath and tried to laugh off just how flustered his comment made you. 

He knew, of course he knew. Any other night Logan may have finally taken the plunge, grabbed you by the chin to look him in the eye and ask if the two of you were ready to stop dancing around your feelings. But then again he had been telling himself that for months already, and the night of your return showing up being chased by ghosts from your past was probably not the best night to add more to your plate. 

“Something like that. I actually haven’t gone to the dreaming yet, Lu didn’t think…well, he thought-”

Logan stiffened and his mind started racing a thousand miles a minute while screaming at himself that he’s a fucking idiot, that he should have caught on to what this all meant sooner. 

“He thinks they’re coming for you?” It was growled through his teeth, but he needed to ask it. 

“He thinks…” you chose your next words carefully, not wanting to put Logan any more on edge than he already was, “That we don’t know enough yet to rule it out, and me prancing right into the dreaming, even with him and Morpheus-” 

“You need backup.” Logan finished for you as you nodded. 

“As much as I don’t want to involve any of you in this, I’m afraid I don’t have much of a choice. Logan, I,” you struggled with this next part, trying to figure out how to explain it. 

“Just say it, kid, don’t worry about how it sounds on my account.” 

“Logan, the best case scenario would actually be that they’re coming for me.” You whispered as Logan began to snarl, you continued talking faster, “The alternative is that someone with a lot of knowledge they shouldn’t have is trying to destabilize the dreaming. If that’s what’s happening, I’m not the only person in danger. Human and mutant alike, we’re all tied to the dreaming. If the dreaming dies…” 

“Alright kid, look,” Logan sat up in his chair and took your hands, that you hadn’t realized you were wringing anxiously, in his, “I’ve lived a long time, alright? Until I met you I didn’t know about all of this celestial bullshit, hell I still don’t understand half of what you’ve told me tonight.” You chuckled, acknowledging it was quite a lot to handle in general let alone around 3 am, “But you know what, bub? I’ve been in more wars than I’d care to count, we’ve been in battles with imperial space birds, and I’ve had to time travel enough that Chuck sometimes has to fill me in on what’s changed when my consciousness returns to the present.”

You looked at him quizzically, not having been aware of that last one and he shrugged, “You can be nosey about it later, my point is everyone under this roof has stopped the end of the world a few times by now, don’t go losing sleep before we even know what we’re up against. Give us some credit.” He winked at you and squeezed your hands before returning them to your lap and finishing his drink. 

You released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and smiled sweetly at him, a little too sweetly in fact, “That was quite the pep talk Lo, gotta be careful, some might say you’re starting to sound like Scott.” 

You expected a glare, maybe even an actual growl as you compared Logan to the ever present thorn in his side but instead he shrugged, “You tell anyone I said this and I’ll deny it, but one thing Summers and I agree on is tackling the big bads as a team. From this universe or whoever the hell else is stupid enough to come knocking.”

There were a few beats of silence as what Logan said soaked in, and even though your instincts were still screaming at you to run, when Logan told you you would face it and beat it as a team, god help you, you believed him.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 1566

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

Please Read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 2

The journey to the bunker was pretty uneventful, with Sam and Charlie chatting amongst themselves in the front of the car whilst both myself and Dean sat miserably next to each other in the back like a couple of criminals who’d been arrested. The chains on my handcuffs jangled as I rubbed my sore knuckles; the skin raw, bruised and red from either my own blood or - most likely - Deans. As I did, I could feel a red hot glare burning into the side of my face from the older Winchester, as though he was in disbelief that I even had the audacity to feel any pain or discomfort right now as dark red scabs formed on his nose and cheek. We pulled up next to the bunker, and I didn’t get much chance to look at the surrounding scenery as the moment we were parked, the golden retriever duo up front hopped out, slammed their doors shut and threw ours open, Sam gently yet firmly grasping my elbow and pulling me to my feet whilst Charlie did the same for Dean. We were marched into the building and we soon arrived in what I assumed to be the kitchen. Sam pushed gently on my shoulder, urging me to take a seat at the table to which I obliged with Dean following suit and taking a seat opposite me. We stared each other down from across the table for a few moments, the atmosphere growing thicker by the second as his brilliant green eyes pierced mine.

“Enough the pair of you!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Look, I’ve got some things to say before we release you both back into the wild. It won’t take long,” she sighed and rubbed her temples. “I wanted to introduce you guys to (Y/n) because I thought you would get along! With your shared interest in hunting, bootcut jeans, rock music and most importantly - pie.”

Dean and I shot each other a quick glance before looking away again. Charlie continued.

“You’ve had one disagreement, and even though I was impressed by the performance it definitely didn’t warrant the carnage. You’re both adults, so act like it and stop bickering like children. You’re going to be living and working together now so you’re both just going to have to suck it up and move on.”

Sam stepped forward; “I agree with Charlie. (Y/n) you have no idea how much of a help you being here is going to be. We’ve been going around in circles for months and we really need a fresh pair of eyes. Plus you get free food and board, if that helps,” he grinned slightly trying to lighten the mood. I humoured him and softened my eyes, raising my eyebrows in acknowledgment to the pros of staying here.

“Right,” he clapped his hands together, “we’re going to remove the tape and you’re both going to be civilised. You promise?”

I gave Dean one final long, hard stare before nodding.

”Good,” Sams soft cool fingers grazed my cheek as he pulled up the corner of the tape, gently peeling it back until it was removed and I could finally take a deep breath. Meanwhile, Charlie approached Dean and in one swift movement ripped the tape from his mouth in under a second.

“FUCK!” He cried out as he tenderly touched his now extra sore swollen lips. I couldn’t help but smirk.

“Right, I’m going to go and get (Y/n)s belongings from the motel room she’s staying in and check her out then I’ll be right back with all her stuff. I’ll see you guys later!” And before I could even protest for her to take me with her, she’d turned on her heel and hightailed it out of the bunker, leaving Sam to undo our cuffs and set us free.

“That bitch,” I sighed, huffing a strand of hair out of my face. Sam knelt before me, that kind look in his eye ever twinkling.

“(Y/n) I promise you that you're safe here. It’s warded to the teeth and full of everything we need to survive. We’ve got you,” he patted my knee before taking my hands in his, using a small key to finally undo the cuffs right before they clattered to the floor. I leant down to pick them up, and by the time I’d sat back up to place them on the kitchen table, he was already beside Dean doing the same for him. His own cuffs removed and rubbing his wrists, he stood, looking from me to Sam a few times before speaking.

“Well I’ve already suffered enough today so I’m going to spend time coming up with a better excuse as to why I look like this,” he gestured to his beaten face and turned to leave, mumbling a quick ‘see ya later’ to Sam before leaving the kitchen. Sam stood awkwardly for a second, before declaring that he was going to get some lunch for everyone and also scurried away, leaving me completely alone in alien territory. I was still sat at the table as I began to look around.

This place was a dump.

How did these grown ass men live in conditions like this? The dirty dishes were piled so high that it was a surprise they hadn’t toppled over yet. Empty beer bottles cluttered the table and countertops, the bin was overflowing with bulging bin bags dumped right next to it without being taken outside and the smell was starting to make me feel a little nauseous. How does Sam expect us all to eat and live together in conditions like this? It was like living with a couple of wild animals. After a few silent moments to myself I released a breath I’d been holding whilst I pondered. I ran my hands through my hair and laughed at myself in disbelief. I’m gonna have to clean the fucking kitchen. Without giving it a second thought and running the risk that I’d change my mind, I scooped my hair into a high ponytail using the bobble on my wrist and pushed up my sleeves, finding a pair of rubber gloves under the sink. Let’s clean this bitch.

*

In the space of about an hour and a half (a gruelling hour and a half), I’d washed and dried the dishes, putting them away in their respective places, taken out all the trash and lined the bin with a fresh bag, scrubbed and disinfected every surface and had even mopped the floors. The smell of rotting trash was dissipating and the urge to claw off my own skin had gone. I’d propped the mop against the wall and stepped back to admire my hard labour when I heard a door open and close, the entering footsteps heading my way. Sam emerged into the kitchen, a stunned look on his face as he walked to the table slowly, placing about 6 bags of ‘groceries’ on its surface. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he was searching for the right things to say.

“You’re welcome,” I cut in, hoping to help him find his words.

“Yeah, thank you! I’m sorry, I didn't know what to say - you really didn’t have to do this. It’s embarrassing that you were even put in a situation where you felt you had to,” he grimaced a little, only now realising what a horror show it was that they were living in. “But seriously thank you, I really appreciate it,” he smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. Sam was sweet and easy to like - unlike his Neanderthal brother. I felt like I could trust him.

I peeled my gloves off, threw them in the bin and approached the kitchen table where Sam was pulling out a case of beer.

“Here, you deserve one of these,” he said, handing me one. The bottle was nice and cool on my hot fingertips, my warm skin instantly relishing the coldness.

“Thank you,” I smiled before popping the cap and taking a long, well deserved drink. I savoured the moment, genuinely appreciating Sam’s gesture. Although all nice moments comes to an end, and soon Dean was striding into the room bold as brass, seating himself at the table and helping himself to a beer without so much as a hello. It wasn’t until he’d drained half the bottle in one gulp that he realised the kitchen was clean. He grinned and looked at his brother.

“Hey, nice job Sammy! It looks great in here, I owe you one,” he raised his bottle as if making a small toast whilst Sam’s eyes flicked to mine.

“Uh, Dean… this wasn’t me. You need to thank (Y/n) for that,” Deans grin faulted slightly as he looked between the two of us before it returned. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in suspicion. His forest green eyes pierced into mine as he almost purred his next sentence.

“Well, Sammy, it looks like we’ve bagged ourselves a maid. Does she cook too?”

I slammed my bottle on the table, much like I did earlier. Only Sam flinched.

“I’m not your fucking maid,” I snarled, resenting that shit-eating grin on the older Winchesters lips. He chuckled, the sound coming deep from within his chest as he rose to his feet.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

——————————————————————

Taglist: @creative-writing92 @suckitands33

——————————————————————

Up Next:

Chapter 3

[newtthetranswriter]

Silence Can Be Good - Takashi Mitsuya

Word Count: 1375

Paring: Takashi Mitsuya x Gn! Reader

Summary: Having a speech impediment as an adult is difficult and sometimes you just need to go quiet.

Warnings: Reader has a speech impediment, mentions of criticizing someone for a disability

A/n: Hello, I want to start off by saying sorry for my absence. My ADHD is once again kicking my ass. Secondly, I want to make it clear I, THE AUTHOR, of this imagine have a speech impediment and so this is written from experience. Any double s’s that should be only one s or when you see ‘...’ it is supposed to represent pausing to find the right word. Even if I myself have a speech impediment, it was difficult for me to find a way to turn it into something you can read, so please be kind. Also I am aware that toge form jjk technically won the poll for this fic, but I’m sorry i couldn’t figure out how to make this story work with him. Anyways, please enjoy, remember my requests are open and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

   It was normal for Takashi to come home from a long day at his studio and be greeted with music and the sounds of his partner playing video games in the living room. So when he opened the door to their shared apartment and was greeted by a deafening silence. “Y/n, I’m home.” He called out as he made his way through the apartment, taking note of Y/n’s keys and shoes thrown haphazardly by the door like always. When there was no response he suspected that Y/n had decided to take a nap after their long day at work and so he quietly made his way to their shared bedroom.

  Opening the door, Takashi took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the space. When he was able to make out shapes in the dark room he could see the outline of his partner curled up on the bed, and had it not been for the slight shudder in their shoulders he would have assumed they were in fact asleep; but Takashi knew better and so he quietly approached the bed sitting down behind them and turning on the bedside lamp. He gently nudged their shoulder to let them know he was there and when they rolled over and just buried their face in his side he made no move to stop them.

  The two of them sat like that for a few minutes before Takashi broke the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked gently while running his fingers through their hair. Y/n just shook their head clinging to Takashi just a little tighter. It took him a moment but he slowly started to piece it together. In all their years together Y/n had only gone silent a handful of times. The main cause was normally when one of them had to go to the doctor, as Y/n has a fear of hospitals and being in them typically caused panic attacks. Seeing as the two of them were in the safety of their home, there was only one thing Takashi could think of that would cause Y/n to go nonverbal. Someone made fun of the way they talk.

  Letting out a quiet sigh, Takashi began forming a plan to get Y/n to open up again. “Do you want to pick out a movie while I order dinner?” He asked looking down at where they had their face pressed to his chest. After a moment Y/n slowly pulled back, nodding as they grabbed the remote from Takashi’s outstretched hand. Takashi placed a gentle kiss on their check before grabbing his phone and ordering pizza from the little shop down the street that they always got.

  When the pizza got there, the two continued to sit in relative silence while eating and watching the movie Y/n had picked for the night. Occasionally Takashi would ask if Y/n needed anything, sticking to questions that could be answered with only a nod of the head. He’d been through this before and while the first time it scared him, he was now accustomed to allowing Y/n to speak when they felt ready.

  After the credits rolled and the leftover pizza was put away, Takashi retook his spot next to Y/n, ready to go to sleep and see if Y/n felt better in the morning. But before he could pull them close and fall asleep, he was stopped by Y/n’s quiet voice. “Do I talk like an … idiot?” They asked shyly, not looking at the lavender eyed male.

  Taken aback by the sudden question, Takashi froze for a second. He knew their silence was because of something someone said to them about their speech, but it still shook him everytime he heard about it. “Not at all. You talk like everyone else, and if anyone says otherwise I’ll gladly have a chat of my own with them.” He said sitting up and pulling Y/n to lean into his side. “What brings this on?” He hoped to understand, not to confront the person who hurt his love, but so Y/n could just get the problem of their chest.

  Sighing, Y/n took a moment to collect their thoughts, clearly trying to plan out each word before speaking. “While I was at work… s-a lady got up… got mad at me for ssomething that I didn’t do, a-and when becausse I had dealt with a bunch of angry cusstomers, I got overwhelmed and…” They paused as they realized they’d started slipping again. “You probably already can figure out what happened next.” Y/n finished, trying to end the story quickly before they started slipping and stuttering again.

  Takashi nodded along, he knew that their speech impediment is a source of a lot of insecurity and anxiety for them so he wouldn’t push them to talk about it. “It’s okay you don’t have to talk if it’s too much for you right now.” He reassured, rubbing their back as they leaned further into him. “Just know that you just had an off day and that changes nothing about how strong you are. I can’t sit here and say I know what it’s like because I don’t, but I can tell you that you are incredibly brave. I don’t think I could handle having every word I say criticized for something I have no control over.” He spoke only the truth. He had heard first hand what people have called Y/n after even only a single mistake in a long winded sentence and he couldn;t imagine dealing with that nearly everyday.

   Y/n nodded, before pulling away again, facing Takashi. “I just wish I could talk like everyone else.” They said, clearly concentrating on getting the words to work right. “I wish I didn’t have to think … so hard to not … sound like a two year old just learning to form a … sentence.” Their frustration was clear as they paused every few words to make sure the right sound came out. 

  They were so focused on getting their words out that they failed to notice the tears that had started to slowly roll down their face, only noticing when Takashi reached up and wiped one away. “I know it’s frustrating, but all you can do is let the bad days pass and keep moving forward.” He began, hoping they understood. “I know it upsets you when you have slip ups and I know it’s even more upsetting when people point it out and use it against you but you have to just let it pass. And if you can’t let it pass, let me know and I will gladly be your voice while you gather the energy to speak again.” He finished with a gentle smile. Y/n managed a matching smile and a small nod. This wasn’t the first time they had a conversation like this, and they both knew it wouldn’t be the last, but they relaxed at knowing that for now everything would be ok.

  “Now, let's go to sleep and in the morning you’ll text your boss that you won’t be going in and you can have a ‘talking optional’ day. If you don’t want to talk you don’t have to, you can text or write down whatever you need from me and if you want to talk that’s up to you. How does that sound?” He asked slowly, positioning them both to begin laying down facing each other. Y/n thought on the offer, it was always nice after a rough speech day to take some time and reset their brain, so being offered an entire day where they could be nonverbal without problems was a dream. Deciding it was a great idea, they nodded quickly before cuddling closer to Takashi. 

  Feeling Y/n nod against his chest, he couldn’t help but laugh at their enthusiasm. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He said rhetorically as he placed a kiss to the crown of their head, already planning a day that would require little to no talking on Y/n’s part to truly give them a break from talking.

(dividers by cafekitsune)

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Write a fic about where you are attending kindergarten and then there's a rat fighting off foot ninjas

and then TMNT x reader

Ninjas In Kindergarten (Angst?/Crack?/Fluff?)

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: In honor of the second rat we found in the toilet today, along with the signs of rats in the other parts of the kindergarten, daycare and staff room, I bring you this. I’ve changed it from Foot ninjas to a mouser, and brought the turtles in just for the fun of it. And oh yeah, they brought the rat hound in again. IT FOUND ANOTHER RAT WHILE WE WERE THERE. What an internship. It isn’t boring I tell ya.

Btw, me and the kids are now joking that it's Master Splinter’s unmutated family that wishes to recruit ninjas on their own. These little ninjas now do a double check before using the toilet.

Warning: Kids in danger, crying children, and spelling like always.

It was a surprisingly calm day for a Monday in a kindergarten. All handovers of the kids from their parents had gone smoothly, with the kids happily playing together on the mats, the pillow room or the play kitchen. Even the girl that tended to cry whenever her mother dropped her off was in a somewhat good mood, drawing with her two best friends at one of the tables.

You sat by the play kitchen area, plastic food all around you as the boys and girls around you handed you food, acting as if you were the only guest in an overstaffed restaurant. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see one of the adults cutting up fruit, while another one brought more pencils to the drawing table, all while the third one was changing diapers on the three youngest kids.

It was nice to finally have a calm day at your internship. The past few weeks had been somewhat chaotic. Not so chaotic that you couldn’t keep afloat, but enough to make you very tired whenever you finally got home. But damn it, these sweet kids made the whole ordeal worth it, only making you excited for the day you would have your own.

You and your boyfriend had started to talk about children. Nothing was set in stone yet, but the topic had been up several times. Well, if it was possible that was. With your boyfriend’s… less than human nature, none of you were sure that a child would even be possible. But nonetheless you dreamed, finding your heart jump whenever one of the kids accidentally called you mom.

“(Y/N)!”, one of the girls at the table called out, running to you with the drawing in her hands. Her 4 year old face, bright eyes and happy smile shined proudly as she held up her drawing for you. It was a blob of colors with no form of meaning, but nonetheless she was happy. “I made it for my mom!”

“Woooow!”, you smiled, leaning forward to show interest in the paper and the many doodles on it. “Did you really make that all by yourself?”

“Yes!”, she said with a little happy jump. “All by myself!”

“I think your mother is going to like it a lot”, you said, smiling as another kid handed you yet another piece of plastic food, adding it to the growing pile in your lap. “I think you should put it in your drawer. Then mommy will know where it is”.

“Okay!”, she smiled, running to her drawer with a skip in her steps.

With the paper in one hand, she opened her drawer, only to jump back with a scream, causing you and the other adult to jump, all turning your attention her way, all the kids doing the same in quiet shock. In her drawer was a mechanine, the size of a mouth, with one bright red lamp where its eyes should be, walking around on two feet. You jumped at the sight, knowing exactly what it was. You had seen such a thing several times with your boyfriend and his brothers, during your run ins with one certain scientist.

You quickly ran to the girl and pulled her back, just before the mouser jumped out of the drawer, snapping out at you. All the kids let out a scream, running for the farest corner in order to get away from the mouser.

In one swift move, you pressed the number that the turtles had given you onto the keyboard, sending an alarm signal to the ninjas, before giving the mouser a hard kick as it tried to get near you and the poor crying girl.

“Up on the tables!”, you yelled over your shoulder to the three other adults, quickly helping the girl up on the nearest table, before helping the next kid. “Keep the mouser away from the kids!”

And so you did, getting all the kids up on the tables, ignoring the questioning looks from the other pedagogues, as they wondered how you knew what that thing was.

You got the last kid up on the table, kicking the mouser back once more, before quickly jumping up on the table to the kids, before it could bite at your ankles. The kids on the table hug you tightly, crying as the mouser started to bite at the wooden legs of the table, trying to get it to fall.

Suddenly the door swung up, revealing your mutant turtle boyfriend in the front and his brothers right behind him. The moment he spotted the mouser at the feet of your table, he jumped into action, smashing it into pieces with his weapons, causing the room to fall quiet. Thankfully the kids weren't crying at the moment, but you could tell by the looks on their faces that the sight of four mutant ninja turtles would soon cause another round of crying.

“So”, you said, trying to defuse the building intensity in the room. “Kids, this is my boyfriend. You know, the one that was a little different with strong muscles? That is him”.

Your boyfriend waved at the kids with a somewhat awkward smile. When he and his brothers gave you that emergency number, he had never thought he would have to come and save you, three pedagogues and a bunch of kids from a rogue mouser.

To his surprise, one of the kids poked at him, staring at him with their big eyes and runny nose, not fearing his big frame as he looked at them.

“Are you green because you ate broccoli?”

“Yes”, your boyfriend answered with a smile, before knocking on his shell. “And I got this from drinking coconut milk”.

“Oh boy”, was the only thing you could mutter, before the questions came flying, all of the kids wanting to learn about your strange boyfriend and his brothers.

It didn’t take long before the kids started playing with your boyfriend and the other turtles. With Mikey they took turns to jump on the smashed mouser, laughing loudly at the sounds it made. Donnie drew with girls, taking a look at the drawing the girl from before had made. Raph played a throwing game, throwing the kids into a pile of pillows one by one, while Leo was making a tower of building blocks with the quiet kids, their eyes growing wider the taller the tower got.

It was safe to say that you would have to bring your boyfriend and his family to your internship a little more often, especially when the kids started screaming and asking you to bring them once again. There was nothing you could do. The kids had turned into big fans of the ninja turtles. And it was adorable.

[sequinsmile-x]

Hide Beside Me

Emily shares her oldest secret with Aaron. A few years later, that secret resurfaces.

Part 3/3 (Part 1, Part 2)

-x-

Hi besties <3

Thanks so much for all the love on this fic, it truly means the world. I really hope you like this last part.

Fair warning, I made myself cry when writing this - and I could count on one hand the number of times that's happened in 375 fics.

I hope you like this, and please, always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: pregnancy, teen pregnancy, abortion, adoption, forced adoption

Words: 5.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She invites Rebecca to come over to the house just three days after she unexpectedly showed up on the doorstep and back into Emily’s life.

Emily goes back and forth on it, wonders if seeing the evidence of the family she had, the children she’d kept, would be hard for her to take, but Aaron talks her down. Assures her if she had a problem with it she would have said something, especially since Rebecca had seen Rose and Issac and therefore knew Emily had kids. 

She finds herself watching the time, tapping the screen of her phone to illuminate it every time it goes black, seconds feeling like hours and minutes like days. The only thing that keeps her even vaguely grounded is the picture of Jack, Rose and Issac as her wallpaper. It was a picture Aaron had taken in the hospital just 6 months ago when Issac was born. Jack and Rose were sitting next to each other, the little girl’s face pinched together in concentration as she listened carefully to Jack as he told her how to hold the baby lying across both their laps, Emily’s hand in the shot as she supported her newborn's head.

Emily sighs as she hears Aaron step into the living room, his familiar footfall a comfort until he comes to a stop and leans over the back of the couch to kiss the top of her head. 

“What if she doesn’t come?”

He kisses her head again, making sure he lingers this time, his hands squeezing her shoulders in a way he hopes she finds comfort in, “She got in touch with you, Em,” he says, “She wants to know you. She’ll come.” 

She hums, swallowing thickly as she tries to push down everything she isn’t sure she wants to feel, “What if…” 

He rounds the couch and sits next to her as she drifts off, hooking his thumb under her chin to encourage her to look up at him, “What if what, sweetheart?” 

She smiles tightly, her lips pressed together to stop the shake to them as they hear a car pull up onto the driveway, her hand seeking his out to link their fingers together, “What if I’m a disappointment to her? Depending on how long she’s known about me, she might have been building the thought of me up for years.” 

He hates what this has done to her, how a decision her mother and other adults had made without including her long before he’d ever known her had torn down her confidence like this. He pushes it away, knowing she doesn’t need the anger he felt on her behalf, certainly not now when she was on the brink of getting to know the child she’d had to give away. She needed his love. His support. The reminder of all that she had now. 

And those were things he would make sure she always had in abundance. 

“That’s just not possible,” he says, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, letting her sink against him when they hear footsteps on the steps leading up to the porch, “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. She’ll see that too.” He says, and she smiles, something that fades when the doorbell rings, “Want me to get the door?” 

She shakes her head and presses her forehead against his, trying to take some of his strength through osmosis one last time before she stands up.

“I can do it,” she says, wiping lint that isn’t there from the thighs of her jeans as she stands up, desperate to keep her hands busy so she doesn’t tear her cuticles up or twist her wedding rings around so much she’d risk losing them. When she makes it to the door, she blows out a breath and gives herself a moment, her hand tight around the door handle before she opens it, her smile shaky as she stands back, “Rebecca, hi. Come in.” 

Rebecca smiles at her, her expression equally as shaky, her hands tight around the handles of her purse as it hung over her shoulder, “Thank you,” she says, looking around as she steps into the house, turning to look at her when she closes the door, “You have a lovely home.” 

“Thank you,” Emily says, as she leads her towards the living room, heaving in a deep breath as they walk towards Aaron. His eyebrows raise as he looks at the two of them together, the resemblance uncanny apart from Rebecca’s blonde hair, and it takes him aback for a moment, leaves him frozen on the spot until Emily clears her throat and draws him out of it, “This is my husband, Aaron,” her breath is shaky as she carries on, “Aaron…this is Rebecca.” 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, “Would you like something to drink?” 

She smiles, his wife’s smile, “A coffee would be great.” 

“Coffee it is,” he squeezes Emily’s shoulder, “The usual, sweetheart?” 

She smiles up at him and nods, “Yes, please.” 

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

He leaves the room, and Emily realises she and Rebecca are still both standing up. She points towards the couch, “Please sit down,” she says, and she sits when Rebecca does, making sure to put space between them, to not cross any boundaries the other woman may have in place. She’s sure if she touched her, if she hugged her, she’d never want to let go. 

“So,” Rebecca says, her eyes fixed on the door Aaron had walked out of, “Is Aaron my…”

It takes a second for what she’s asking, the question she can’t finish, to register and Emily shakes her head, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, “No, he’s not. We met at work,” she says, “Your…he’s called John. I’m not in touch with him, but I have his contact information if you want it.” 

Rebecca smiles, a sad tinge to it as she looks down at her hands, “Thanks. I’ll let you know if I want it.” 

The silence between them is thick. Not uncomfortable, or tense, but full of everything they both want to say even though neither of them know where to start. Emily clears her throat, feeling a sense of responsibility to go first, a weight that was heavy on her chest as she looks across at the woman whose face she’d spent the best part of her life trying to picture. 

“Do your parents know you’ve come to see me?” She asks, oddly okay with referring to other people as her parents. She was her mother. She’d brought her into the world and loved her ever since, but she wasn’t her parent. She’d never been given the chance to be. 

“They know,” Rebecca says, smiling properly, her dimples making their first appearance, “They actually encouraged me to do this,” she stops for a moment when Aaron steps into the room and passes her a cup of coffee and Emily a cup of tea. Rebecca thanks him as he sits next to Emily and places his hand on her knee, “I’ve always known I was adopted.” 

Emily furrows her brow at that, not sure if she was relieved or not by the revelation, “Oh?” 

Rebecca nods, her grip tight on the mug in her hands, “As long as I’ve been old enough to know what it means, I’ve known,” she says, “Mom and Dad struggled to have kids, which is why they adopted me. Then a few years later they had my brother naturally,” she laughs when she says it, in-jokes with her family that Emily wasn’t party to shining in her eyes, “Even if my parent’s hadn’t been upfront about it all I think I would have caught on eventually, they all have blue eyes and blonde hair,” she tucks some of her dyed hair behind her ear as she says it, “I’ve never known anyone who looks like me, until now,” she looks up at Emily and then around the room, her eyes catching on family photos hanging on the wall, “It’s weirdly unsettling,” she jokes, drawing a laugh out of both Emily and Aaron. “I’ve had a good life. And loving parents. I…on the way here I was thinking of what I’d want to know if I were you, and that’s the thing I kept thinking of.” 

Emily blows out a breath, her vision going blurry as she tries to stop the tears from falling, her eyes burning with them, “I’m glad. I’m really glad.” 

“I also think it’s important you know I’ve never been mad at you, or angry,” she says, tears filling her eyes too, “I’ve also always known you were young when you had me,” she smiles sadly, “When I turned 15 it was the first thing I thought about. And every year since it’s just felt younger than the year before. You did the best thing you could.” 

Emily grips Aaron’s hand, her grip on him so tight he feels his knuckles knock together, and she sucks in a shaky breath, tears that she immediately wipes away slipping past her lashline.

“Thats…thank you.” She wasn’t aware how much she’d needed to hear it from Rebecca herself until she did. A burden she’d carried for years suddenly lighter, a space in her chest she hadn’t known existed opening up so she could breathe a little deeper, “What made you come looking for me?” 

Rebbeca sucks in a deep breath, “That’s…a bit of a crazy story.” 

“Oh, if you don’t want to-”

“No, I want to,” she assures her, cutting over Emily’s panicked retraction of her question, “I just…” she looks between the two of them, “Don’t want to upset you.” 

Emily furrows her brows, confusion and something close to dread flooding through her, her cheeks burning with it as she leans into Aaron’s side, “You can tell me. I won’t be upset, I promise.” 

Rebecca sucks in a breath, “I always thought about it. I wanted to know more about where I came from than the small amount of information my parents were given from the place where I was born. But I also never wanted to intrude on your life,” she tucks some of her hair behind her ear again, drawing attention to her torn-up cuticles, “I was well aware I could be nothing but a reminder of the worst part of your life. And then…I saw an obituary for you in the paper.” 

Emily gasps, her eyes screwed shut as she clenches her jaw, “Oh, god. I’m…” she clears her throat and looks up at her, “That’s so complicated. I’m so sorry.” 

Rebecca shakes her head, “Please don’t apologise. As soon as I saw it, I regretted never reaching out to you. I grieved everything we could have had. I moved forward,” her smile turns sad, “I probably paid for my therapist's vacation that year with the number of sessions I had,” she looks down at her hands, and Emily is grateful for it, grateful for a moment to wipe away a tear, to shift impossibly closer to Aaron, his hold her as tight as she’d ever known it to be, “And I learnt how to be okay with it all. Then, a few weeks ago I saw a picture of you in the paper. At first, I thought it was a memorial-type thing, but then I read the article. It was about a case at Interpol and you were the spokesperson. It felt like a second chance. So I came to find you.” 

Emily nods, her chest aching with the sobs she was keeping in there, emotions she wouldn’t set free until it was just her and Aaron in the house, “I’m glad you did. I’m so glad you did. And one day…if you want, I’ll explain all of that to you,” she offers her a half smile, “Or at least, as much as I legally can.” 

Rebbeca smiles before she presses her lips together, a question she’d had for years on the tip of her tongue. 

“Did you ever think of looking for me?” She asks, and Emily feels Aaron squeeze her hand, a brief moment of comfort as he continues to be a silent bystander, understanding the support she needs without her even having to ask for it. 

“I did,” she replies, “I wrote letters at first, when I was still a teenager, but my mom kept having them intercepted. For a long time I just…pretended it all happened to someone else because it was easier,” she answers honestly, “And then, when I finally felt able to look for you it felt selfish. I didn’t want to intrude on anything.” 

It’s half the truth, the other half feeling too complicated to explain. By the time she was working for Interpol, she decided to leave Sophia, Rebecca, alone to keep her safe. Well aware that if anyone knew of her existence it could be used against her. It was a decision she stood by when Ian eventually would hunt her down, glad he had no idea of her biggest secret other than him, that whilst she’d failed everything else she’d been able to keep her daughter safe. Even if she had ended up grieving for her despite never knowing her. 

Rebecca nods, “I can understand that. You’d have always been welcome though,” she says, smiling, “Mom and Dad want to meet you, if you’d like. Eventually. And my girlfriend,” her smile gets wider, “When I told them you have kids, that I have little brothers and a sister, they all got really excited. But I want to get to know you first.” 

It sparks hope deep in her chest, but she doesn’t quite allow it to catch yet. Rebecca wanted to know her. To have this be more than just one meeting to answer some questions, “I’d like that,” she says, turning to look at Aaron for a moment before she looks back at Rebecca, “We’d like that.” 

“They aren’t here?”

“The kids?” Emily asks, and Rebecca nods in response, “No, they are with their Aunt Jess today,” she says, “But I’d love you to meet them if you want to.”

She’d have to explain first, and figure out a way of making it appropriate for Jack and Rose, Issac being too young to understand it at all. If Rebecca was going to be in her life, in their lives, Emily wanted it to be as her daughter. Not wanting more secrets and lies to cloud her life now it was as clear as it had ever been. 

Rebecca nods, “Of course I’d love to,” she smiles, “What are their names?” 

“Jack is our eldest,” Emily says, not feeling the need to explain any further than that right now. Jack’s history was his to share, and he’d taken to introducing her as his mom to new friends lately, no longer explaining that she was his stepmom. When she’d asked him about it, he said he preferred it this way. That whilst he loved his mom, and he missed her and always would, he hated being the kid whose mom had died, that it was a label that never went away, “And then we have Rose and Issac who you saw the other day.” 

“They’re adorable.” 

“Thank you,” Emily says, “We think so too. Do you have any other questions? I’ll answer anything.”

“Just one, for now,” Rebecca says, placing her cup of coffee down, “And I know it sounds juvenile, but I’ve wanted to ask you this for years,” she stands up, and steps towards her, her arms awkward at her side as they twitch, and Emily knows what she’s going to say before she says it, and she makes a point of passing her cup of tea to Aaron in preparation, “Can I have a hug?” 

Emily’s on her feet in an instant, the crack in Rebecca’s voice making her want to do nothing other an cross the gap between them, “Of course you can.” 

She pulls her into a hug, and it’s like two things are happening at once. She’s 15 again, holding her baby tight, desperately trying to remember everything about her, whispering a lifetime of love against her forehead as she counted down the seconds until she had to let go. She’s also 45, hugging her 30-year-old daughter, the once tiny baby now slightly taller than her, a grown woman who had lived a whole life without her. Everything was different - including the fact that this time when she let her go, it wouldn’t be the last time she got to hold her. 

What she doesn’t know until later, is that Aaron takes a picture of them wrapped up in each other’s embrace. Their arms tight around each other, tears on both of their faces as they try and take in as much as they both could after a lifetime of separation. 

He prints it for her and hangs it on the wall amongst the rest of their family photos, a sign of the start of a new beginning she’d convinced herself she’d never get. 

___

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” 

Emily smiles as she turns to look at her husband, Issac on his hip as they both stand in the foyer of their home. She walks over and kisses Issac’s forehead and then Aaron’s lips, “I think I need to do this part myself, honey,” she says, running her fingers through his hair, “This is a conversation I’ve needed for years.” 

He sighs, clearly holding back his disagreement, his dislike of her mother’s treatment of her not something he was shy about, “If she says anything-”

“I’ll call you and you can come over and yell at her,” she promises him, kissing him one more time, “If Rebecca…she’s going to be in our lives. I’m not going to pretend she isn’t mine to anyone,” she swallows thickly, “And that starts with talking to my mother about her.” 

They’d never discussed it. Not once. When Emily met her in Russia, still wearing a diaper and pads in her bra whilst her milk dried up, Elizabeth hadn’t said anything. She’d acted like her daughter had been at a summer school, nothing more, and they carried on as if nothing had happened. 

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her, “We’ll be here when you get back.” 

She nods, blowing out a shaky breath as she kisses Issac, pressing her forehead against his temple, “I wouldn’t be mad if you ignored bedtime tonight.”

Aaron smiles, already having planned on letting the kids stay up, no matter how much it would mess with their routine for one night, knowing Emily would need to see them, to hold them, when she got home. 

“Consider it done.” 

The drive to her mother’s house has never felt quicker. Traffic was frustratingly on her side, each light green as she wishes for the journey to drag out, wanting more time to figure out what she wants to say. 

Elizabeth is surprised to see her when she arrives, but only makes one comment about being busy, a mercy that Emily is sure doesn’t come from being able to read her body language. Her housekeeper brings them both a glass of wine as they make polite small talk, and Elizabeth eventually clears her throat. 

“So, what are you doing here, Emily?” She asks, her eyebrow raised at her, “It’s not like you to drop by unannounced.” 

Despite planning it all out in her head, any attempt to practise this conversation disappears in a second. She takes a sip of wine and then sucks in a breath, three words summing up how her life had changed so dramatically in the last couple of weeks. “She found me.” 

Elizabeth’s shoulders tighten, her grip on her wine glass briefly tighter as she takes a large sip, the gulp of it audible, cutting across the tense silence between mother and daughter, “Who did?” 

Emily presses her lips together, holding back 30 years worth of anger and swallowing it back down, knowing it would do no good to air it all now, “The baby you had taken away from me 30 years ago,” she says, staring at her mother as she looks down at the table to avoid her gaze, “She found me. Her name is Rebecca.” 

“Emily-”

“You never gave me a choice,” she says, cutting off whatever her mother was going to say, not sure she could take hearing it, “I wasn’t given a choice.”

“You made a choice when you had sex, Emily,” Elizabeth says, making Emily scoff and shake her head, “If Rose ever-”

“If God forbid Rose ever finds herself pregnant at 15, or 18 or hell even if it happens when she’s 30 and has an asshole for a partner who leaves her in the lurch, I will make sure she knows what all of her choices are,” she says, her jaw tight as she wipes away a stray tear, “And I’ll hold her hand through whatever she chooses to do,” she blows out a shaky breath and chokes on a sad laugh, “I always knew it was cruel when those people you sent me too ripped my baby away from me after a few minutes, even then I knew, but I only realised how cruel it was when I had Rose.” 

“Emily-”

“When they tried to take her from me, when they were simply trying to take her to the other side of the room to clean her off and weigh her I couldn’t let go. Aaron ended up having to promise me that he’d go over there with her and that he wouldn’t let her out of his sight. Did you know that?” 

It’s a rhetorical question, they both know it, because they’ve never talked about any of this before, “No. I didn’t.”

“When Rose was born she cried so loudly the doctor made a joke about it, and then when she laid her on my chest she stopped. We kind of just…looked at each other and she stopped crying. When she was on the other end of the room she was crying again, she only stopped when Aaron brought her back over to me and I just kept thinking…did Sophia cry when they took her away from me?” 

Elizabeth furrows her brow, “Sophia?” 

Emily sighs and swallows thickly, internally cursing herself for letting it slip, “Rebecca. Sorry. Sophia was…” she clears her throat, “That was the name I gave her.” 

“I didn’t know you did that.”

Emily smiles sadly, “Yeah, well. We’ve never spoken about it, have we?” 

“Why are you telling me all of this?” 

“Because we’re working towards being part of each other's lives more permanently,” she says, blowing out a breath, “And it will take some time to learn about each other, but we both want it. We both want to make up for lost time, and I will not lie to the world anymore. I won’t say she’s my cousin or my long-lost sister. She’s my daughter and that’s how I’ll introduce her to people.” 

Elizabeth’s eyes go wide, “Emily, what will people think?” 

She scoffs, “Other than question the fact you sent your daughter to a home that has been condemned in every way possible in the press since?” She shrugs, “I don’t care, Mom. I spent so long caring about what people would think of me. But she’s beautiful. And smart. And I’m proud of her, even if I don’t have any right to be. So I refuse to let shame take any more away from me than it already has,” she stands up and wipes tears from her cheeks, “You can carry on being a part of my family if you’d like. But I won’t hide her away to satisfy some old need of yours to maintain appearances.” 

She walks away, determined to leave, to get home to her family, but she’s stopped by her mother, “Emily.” 

She turns and sighs, “Yes, Mother?” 

“If she’s anything like you,” she says, clearing her throat, not able to look her in the eye, any softness between the two of them always hard for them both, so different to the sharp edges of their relationship that they were used to, “You have every right to be proud.” 

___

Six Months Later

The house is busting at the seams. 

She can hear all the conversation outside, the sound of it filtering through the open window in Issac’s room as she walks in, smiling when he’s stood up in his crib, his arms already up and waiting for her. 

“Mama!” 

“Hi Zaccy,” she says, walking over and lifting him into her arms. She kisses his cheek several times, chasing his precious laughter, “You know, as you get older, it’s not acceptable to take a nap in the middle of your own birthday party,” she says, settling him onto her hip, “So enjoy it whilst it lasts, sweet boy.” She couldn’t believe he was one. That her youngest baby was a toddler now, that he was close to walking and could say Mama and Dadda and a sound they think means Jack. Time had flown by too quickly for her liking, as it always did, and despite her age, and her insistence when she was pregnant with him that he’d be their last, she found herself wondering if maybe one more kid couldn’t be the end of the world. “Let’s go join the party, huh?” 

She walks downstairs with him in her arms, listening to his chatter as they go, and the doorbell rings as she makes it to the bottom of the stairs. She answers the door, her heart growing in her chest when she sees Rebecca and her girlfriend, Carrie, on the doorstep.

It still surprised her sometimes that she could do this. That her eldest could come to events like this and that she wanted to. 

Everyone knew about Rebecca now. When she told the team, the empathy and sympathy had been a little hard to take all at once. A wave of other people's emotions as they thought about what she’d been through exactly what she’d been trying to avoid. Aaron had kept her afloat. His arm around her shoulders as he answered most of their questions, as he held her tighter when Penelope tried to hug her, his expression clearly saying not now in a way she’d thankfully taken note of. They’d accepted Rebecca into their lives with open arms, making her another part of the family they’d built for themselves. 

“Hi,” Emily says, pulling Rebbeca into a hug first, and then Carrie, “I’m so glad you made it.” 

“Of course we did,” Rebbeca says, smiling when Issac reaches out and wraps his hand in her dark hair, “We wouldn’t miss Zac’s birthday, would we?” She tickles his belly and he reaches out for her, and she takes him, settling him on her hip. “Mom and Dad send their apologies,” she says, “But they also sent a massive gift for Zac.”

Emily smiles as she takes the offered gift bag, “I’ll make sure to text your mom to say thank you, they really didn’t have to get him anything.”

Rebecca chuckles, “I’ll leave you to have that conversation with her.” 

The first time she met Rebecca’s parents, Eleanor and John Mount, was as emotional as her first meeting with Rebecca. Eleanor had pulled her into a fierce hug, and held her close as if she was still the teenager who had given birth to their daughter, and John had done the same. They’d brought her a massive photo album, a book so heavy it had to be held with two hands, full of pictures of every moment of Rebecca’s life. 

She looked through it frequently, trying to commit everything she hadn’t been able to see happen to memory. Smiling as Aaron looked at it over her shoulder, never failing to comment on how much Rebecca looked like Rose when she was her age. 

“Everyone is in the back,” Emily says, ushering them in and closing the door behind them, the sight of her oldest and her youngest together something she wasn’t quite used to. 

Telling the kids about Rebecca, and who she was, was the part Emily had been scared of the most. Unsure how to tell them, how to answer questions she was sure they’d have, their curiosity that she usually loved bound to be her downfall. They’d taken in their stride. Jack was the one who understood the most being the oldest, and he’d been excited to meet Rebecca, claiming he’d always wanted a big sister. Emily wasn’t sure how much Rose understood, but she loved Rebecca too, and Emily knew there would eventually be a time when neither she nor Issac remembered life without her. 

In her worst moments, that made her jealous of her children. She wished she could only remember what it was like now - that the pain she’d gone through for decades wasn’t so visceral she could still feel it, but she knew she couldn’t undo anything. And that, if given the choice, she’s not sure she would. She didn’t believe in fate, and didn’t like to think that the universe was in charge of her life. She’d fought for what she had now. For the family she loved. And she wouldn’t want it to be any different than it was.

It was messy. Complicated. A picture made of broken pieces, glued back together with time and love and purpose. But it was hers, and because of that, it was beautiful. 

“Becca!”

They all turn to see Rose running towards them, her arms tight around Rebecca’s legs as she throws herself at her. Rebecca laughs and runs her fingers through her hair, “Hi Rosie-Posie.”

“Come play with us,” Rose demands, holding Rebecca’s spare hand, the other still securing Issac to her, and Carrie’s as she drags them towards the backyard. Emily watches them go, blowing out a slow breath as she twists her rings around her finger.

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

She turns to look at Aaron, smiling at the sight of him in their messy living room, bags of gifts and wrapping paper everywhere, “I’m okay,” she assures him, holding her hand out, her smile getting wider when he walks over and grabs it, linking his fingers through hers, “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have them all, and how lucky I am to have you.” 

He kisses her temple and they walk towards the backyard, “We’re the lucky ones.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, but her response is cut off when she hears laughter as they step out into the yard. Rebecca is sitting on one of the swings of their swing set, Issac on her lap as she gently swings them back and forth. Rose is on the swing next to her being pushed by Jack. She’s overwhelmed by it, by the image of all four of her kids together laughing and having fun. She’s about to ask Aaron to take a photo, her own phone somewhere inside the house, placed down as she tried to organise her son’s birthday party and all the food they’d made for their guests.  She doesn’t think she’s ever loved her husband more than when she sees he’s already doing it, taking dozens of pictures so she’d have a choice of her favourite. 

“Can you send those to me?” She asks, and he nods, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“Already on the way to you, sweetheart.” 

She squeezes his hand and goes in search of her phone. She sets one of the pictures as her wallpaper immediately, making sure she had a reminder every time she looked at her phone of what she had now. Of what she’d lost and regained. There were times when she wished more than anything she could speak to her 15-year-old self, that she could tell her everything would be okay in the end. That she’d know her daughter. That she’d have a family with the love of her life. Most of the time, she was glad that she couldn’t. Sure that the person she was now wouldn’t exist if she had known what was to come. 

The future was a gift to the young, the path laid out before them a mystery they must walk. 

“Mom,” Rebecca calls into the kitchen, her smile wide as her eyes meet Emily’s, “Rosie is demanding you join her on the swings.” 

She nods and looks down at her phone one more time before she tucks it into her pocket, “I’m coming, honey.” 

[sansaorgana]

— MAKE IT RIGHT THIS TIME

PAIRING — Erik Lehnsherr x fem!Mutant!Reader

SUMMARY — You’re a teacher at Charles’ school where you live with your daughter but the life you’re living is far from what you want it to be. After a disagreement with Charles about your role in his institution, you pay your husband a visit. Maybe there’s still a chance to make the things right.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I wanted to write it for MONTHS ??? and I finally did in one sitting and I’m so proud of myself! I know that not many people are into X–Men fics anymore (???) but honestly, I just had to write it and get it out of my system 💗 It’s based very very loosely on the plot of the movies and takes place more less when Dark Phoenix’s plot is. Reader’s mutation is NOT specified.

WORD COUNT — 3,150

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

MAKE IT RIGHT THIS TIME

Raven was pissed. You knew her long enough to see it in her eyes and the way her fingers twitched nervously now and then. Everyone focused on Jane after the weird incident in outer space but from the corner of your eye, you could see Raven’s anger. And you were observing her because you were pissed, too. You knew she would be on the same page with you.

Risking your life for Charles was supposed to be over now. You didn’t sign up for any of that – tight, pathetic superhero’s suit and journalists taking pictures of you leaving the ship, asking you questions; all the sensation and headlines. You never wanted to be a hero. You just wanted to be with your people – with other mutants – safe and happy. You wanted peace.

Charles mostly cared about his school’s PR in front of the humans and it was exhausting. It was nothing like you had been imagining your life to be. Especially now, when you had so much to lose.

Raven went to Charles’ office to argue with him but you didn’t join her. You had your disagreements in the past but you knew she was tough enough to do it without your backup and you were needed somewhere else anyway.

You passed a bunch of kids – your students – congratulating you on the staircase.

“That was so cool, Mrs. Lehnsherr!” some boy’s cheeks blushed as he gasped like he was choking on air. You faked a kind smile at him.

You didn’t want him to think that risking your life for Charles was something admirable. You didn’t want to raise these kids to be superheroes. You just wanted them to be mutants capable of controlling their forces; future adults feeling comfortable in their own skin.

“Thank you, darling,” you whispered before opening the wooden door and disappearing inside the room. You took a deep breath out of relief when all the outside noise became muffled behind the door.

“Mum!” a young girl’s voice whined and you smiled at the girl laying on the bed. She took her headphones off and pouted at you, “You haven’t knocked!” she scolded you.

Edie was eight years old now – big enough to want her privacy and you hated that. Not because you didn’t want her to have her own space but because you hated to see her so grown up. You wished her to stay little forever like she was when she was two or three, giggling in her father’s arms when he was throwing her in the air in the kitchen.

You smiled sadly at the memory.

“I’m sorry, Edie. I had to hide from them as fast as I could,” you sighed and sat on the edge of her bed. She turned off her walkman and put the headphones away. “Why weren’t you waiting for me downstairs? I couldn’t wait to see your face.”

“You know why, mum,” she sniffled and you furrowed your brows before looking at her face. Then you spotted the dried out tears on her cheeks.

“Oh, Edie,” you gasped before pulling her closer and hugging her tight. She pressed her face to your chest and you hid your face in her hair before kissing the top of her head. “Mummy will always come back to you, little Edie.”

Edie hated you going on missions. She was terrified that you wouldn’t come back to her. She often refused to watch anything related to them on TV (which was difficult) and she would just sit in her room and block out the noise with her headphones.

“I’m back, I’m fine,” you caressed her back.

“I know that you all almost died today. I was nervous and I changed the radio station to news,” she admitted and sobbed as her small body trembled in your arms. Your heart broke.

“I promise I won’t ever go again,” you bit on your lower lip as your eyes filled with tears, too.

“You always say that and then uncle Charles asks you for one last favour.”

You didn’t answer her. She was right.

“I miss dad,” she added and you froze at that.

“I miss him, too,” you only admitted, almost inaudibly.

“Why can’t we be with him?” Edie looked up to meet your gaze. You caressed her wet cheeks and sighed.

“You know why, Edie. It’s not the kind of life I’d want for us.”

“And this is?” she asked innocently but once again there was no answer from you.

You just didn’t know what to say.

“You can visit your dad tomorrow. How about that?” you proposed to make her feel better and she nodded eagerly while giving you a wide smile.

“You’re driving too fast, mum,” Edie giggled and her voice brought you back to reality. You slowed down immediately after realising that she had been right.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I’m angry.”

“Because we’re going to see daddy?”

“No. I had a fight with uncle Charles this morning,” you admitted.

“About yesterday?”

“Yes,” you nodded but refused to share the details. Edie was too young to be burdened with things like that.

“Do you think dad’s gonna like my new trick?” she grinned at you, playing with the metal balls inside her hand. She had recently learnt how to make them float in all sorts of ways and even change their shape. Sometimes it was funny and sometimes it was visually beautiful.

“I think he’s gonna love it,” you assured her and parked the car on the roadside near the trailer park where Erik and his followers lived.

Of course he refused to call them followers. These days, they were just comrades or whatever. But you weren’t a fool. You’d known him for years. He always had followers.

Edie was practising her tricks while walking alongside you all the way to the trailer park and you were smiling at her and pretending to listen to her rambling but, in fact, you were far away with your thoughts.

You were looking around and caught yourself wondering… Would it really be that bad to live there? Of course the standard was way worse than Charles’ huge mansion and you had your responsibilities back at school – all your kids to teach. On the other hand, they weren’t really your kids and there were other teachers, while Erik’s trailer park just felt more free and you knew that it would make Edie happy to live there.

Of course only if Erik wanted you there as well, which wasn’t so obvious.

The forest path ended and you found yourselves inside the trailer park. Edie ran off ahead and you tried to stop her but it was pointless. She felt comfortable there and seemed not to notice all the curious and suspicious eyes. People living with Erik knew who you were but they always stared at you like you were actually sent there with a military squadron supposed to arrest or kill them. After all, your kind – mutants living with Charles – was known for working with humans for the sake of the friendship between the species.

“Hey, little one!” a female voice greeted Edie and you turned around to see a young woman patting your daughter’s head. You had seen her before while taking Edie to Erik or picking her up. That woman’s name was Monica and she seemed to be close with your husband.

Husband by name only. For some reason you had never divorced. There was never any occasion to do so.

“Hi, Monica!” Edie smiled at her and you squinted your eyes at them. Edie had never told you much about Monica. Only that she had been nice.

You had your reasons to believe that Monica was actually Erik’s girlfriend and Edie just chose to cover up for them.

But there was nothing to cover up. It was Erik’s right to live his life without you. It was your choice not to live with him. It was your decision to split up for Edie’s good. Without Edie, you’d go to the end of the world with Erik back in the day. You’d burn the whole world alongside him. You almost did once anyway.

Edie changed everything. You didn’t regret her, though, not even for a moment.

“Hi, Monica,” you stood behind Edie and put your hand on your daughter’s shoulder. Monica looked at you with a smirk. “Is Erik around?” you asked.

“Yeah, let me get him,” she answered before turning around and disappearing inside one of the small houses.

He went outside a short moment after.

It had been years now since he changed so much but every time you saw him after a long while of not seeing him, you felt weird because he looked so different than at the beginning of your relationship. You didn’t mean his face getting older but he used to be such an elegant man in his turtlenecks, jackets, sunglasses and haircut. Nowadays, he was just wearing T-shirts and didn’t shave for days when he didn’t feel like it. Edie would often complain about his stubble scratching her face when they were hugging.

“Hi,” you greeted him awkwardly.

“Hi,” he looked a bit surprised and opened his arms for Edie. She ran into them and jumped on her dad. He picked her up and kissed her cheeks. “I didn’t expect you.”

“Edie wanted to see you,” you approached them and rubbed her back. “I’m sorry. Should have called… But you don’t really use your phone, do you?”

“I don’t know where it is,” Erik admitted.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

“But you haven’t been here with her in such a long time. I thought I’d never see her again,” he said and you felt guilty.

“Don’t be stupid, Erik. It’s just… I was very busy,” you looked down.

“Mum saved the world yesterday,” Edie giggled as her dad put her down on the ground. Erik furrowed his brows at you.

“I didn’t. Jane did, actually. Kinda…” you chuckled nervously.

“They almost died, daddy,” Edie lowered her voice and swallowed thickly. You took a deep breath in.

“I know. I’ve listened on the radio,” he confessed and you looked up, surprised. “Edie, can I talk to your mum for a while?”

“But daddy, I wanted to show you a trick!”

“You can show me later, okay?” He caressed her hair.

“Show me first!” Suddenly, Monica appeared next to you. You almost jumped at that. Apparently, superhuman speed was her mutation.

“Okay!” Edie followed Monica to one of the houses and you watched them with terror in your eyes.

“She’s safe. I trust Monica,” Erik assured you. “I trust everyone here. Believe me,” he insisted and you nodded your head before walking away with him to go inside his place.

You sat on the couch and looked around since you hadn’t been inside much before. The place was quite messy and you spotted that there were some pictures on the wall and most of them were of Edie. On one of them it was all three of you when your daughter was a few months old. You stood up again and approached that picture to caress it gently with your fingertips through the glass of a frame.

“We were so young, huh?” you cracked a smile.

“You still are,” Erik stood behind you.

A long silence occurred between you two.

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked in a whisper after swallowing thickly.

“You shouldn’t risk your life anymore for Charles. I mean, I have never wanted you to but now we have Edie.”

“You have never wanted me to risk my life for Charles,” you turned around to face him, “but you have never minded me risking my life for you, Erik.”

“All I did was to protect you and you know that,” he furrowed his brow.

“That’s the excuse that lets you sleep at night?” you snorted at that.

“(Y/N), come on,” Erik grabbed your wrist but he wasn’t squeezing it so you didn’t fight him on that, “don’t pretend to be better than me. Don’t play pretend to be a bigger person. We both know you are not. You joined me because you made a choice. I didn’t force you to join the Brotherhood.”

“I joined you because I loved you,” you gritted your teeth and he clenched his jaw at your words, “and I hated every moment of it. There’s blood on my hands but it was all for love. That’s the excuse that lets me sleep at night.”

“I don’t want you to die for Charles’ ego, do you hear me? Edie needs a mother,” Erik changed the subject and pushed your wrist away. You knew it was a sensitive matter to him. He didn’t want Edie to lose her mother like he had lost his.

“She still has you. You’re going to take care of her if something happens to me, right?”

“Of course I will but I didn’t know you wanted me to. I thought you’d want her to stay at school if anything happens,” Erik sat down on the couch and you took a deep breath in.

“I don’t. I mean, what for? So she grows up to be another X–Man? So they put her in a tight suit and make her risk her life to save humans?” you rolled your eyes. “Fuck that, Erik. And you have the same mutation. You’re every teacher she’d ever need.”

“What do you mean by that?” he looked up and you bit on your lower lip nervously.

“I had an argument with Charles this morning. I know what you think but I don’t want to do the missions for him anymore and it’s been like that for a long time now. I agreed to join his school, to be a teacher, to secure Edie’s future… But I never agreed to that, all that saving humans shit. He always sweet talks me into doing that. He tells me that he needs me. That there aren’t many original X–Men around anymore… Me, Raven, Hank… And I’m too fucking sentimental to say no to him. But it’s over now. I told him this morning I’m not doing it anymore and he… He brought back the past. He told me I probably still have hatred towards humans in my heart, from the times when I was in the Brotherhood. That was too much, Erik. I split up my family for this man… I ruined what was between you and I to join him and that’s how he repays me?” you sniffed your tears back and looked away. “I don’t want to be there anymore. He’s not a better life for me and my girl. I thought he would be but I was wrong.”

Erik examined your face for a while and he was visibly confused after hearing your little monologue. You quietly hoped he’d offer you a place to stay but he remained silent.

“I was thinking… Maybe we could move in… Edie and I… I know you miss her and she misses you, too. Not here, of course,” you looked around his house. “I’d get us our own place. I mean, my place… She could stay here for a while and then for a while with me. Whatever, we’d live close anyway. It wouldn’t matter to her anyway. But I mean… When you’d want some time with Monica for yourselves, no problem…”

“Wha– Wait, wait, wait,” Erik stood up and shushed you before walking up to you. “What are you talking about? Some time with Monica? What?”

“I know you two are like… together,” you shrugged your arms, pretending that it didn’t bother you.

“Have you lost your mind… Who’s told you that? Edie?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m observant.”

“No, you’re not observant, (Y/N). You’re jealous,” he laughed and you made an angry face at that. “You’ve always been. Should I remind you about Raven, Emma…”

“You actually fucking kissed Raven,” you interrupted him.

“Because you were giving me mixed signals.”

“That’s no excuse!” you protested and then he shut you up with a kiss.

You gasped at first, still trying to process what had just happened. And then you gave in, you cupped his face and kissed him back so hard that your teeth clashed, like there was no tomorrow. God, you missed him.

Erik’s hands rested on your hips as he pulled you even closer. After a while, you lost your breath and had to break the kiss.

“Of course you can move in, just let me clean up a little,” he smiled with his face still only inches away from yours. You giggled at that.

“Yeah, you should,” you nodded. “Edie and I are taking the bedroom. You can sleep here,” you took a step back and fixed his hair gently, “for now,” you added. “I think we need some time. We can’t just… Suddenly pretend that the past few years haven't happened. We lost many years,” you explained and he nodded his head.

“But it’s nothing compared to all the years we still have ahead,” Erik raised your chin with his finger. “And this time, I promise, I’ll make it right.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t survive you going to jail again,” you laughed and pushed him playfully.

“Ekhem,” someone’s voice made you both turn around and you saw Monica with a huge smirk on her face leaning on the doorframe. “Your kid is becoming very impatient to show you the trick,” she announced and winked at you.

“How long have you been standing there?” Erik asked her.

“Depends on how long the kiss actually was. I’d say… somewhere the middle of it but perhaps it was the ending. Didn’t want to ekhem at you earlier, it felt off, you know?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. There’s no privacy here, is it?” you sighed.

“Better get used to it,” Monica shrugged her arms, “and you, good luck at getting your old back used to sleeping on that shitty piece of couch,” she looked at Erik. “Come ‘ere, Edie,” she called your daughter from the outside.

“What took you so long?” Edie whined after walking inside with her metal balls floating behind her like dogs taken out on a walk.

“Your parents were…” Monica started and Erik gave her a deadly look. “...talking,” she finished.

“About your new room,” Erik added. “What would you like in your new room?”

“Mum, what does dad mean?” Edie’s eyes widened at you.

“We’re moving in,” you announced nervously. “I mean… Only if you want to.”

“Are you kidding me?” she gasped and all the metal balls fell to the floor dramatically. “That’s the best day ever!” she ran into her father’s arms happily. “Daddy, it’s my favourite day I think! Is it yours, too?”

“No,” Erik shook his head and rubbed his nose with hers, “my favourite day was the one when you were born.”

MASTERLIST

[ramp-it-up]

Homework

Shield High School FACULTY AU

Pairing: Teacher! Bucky x Teacher! Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI, Language, S MUT w/some plot, mutual pining, angst, fluff, two idiots in love, wall s ex, dirty talk, teasing, praise kink, a teeny tiny bit of degredation, oral s ex (f/m recieving), finger f ucking, face f ucking, sloppy head, rough s ex, pleasurable pain, squirting, raw s ex (protect ya self).

A/N: This is a teacher AU. All characters in this are ADULTS, as you should be if you’re reading my fic. Thank you. 😊 This comes right after Quarter Finals and way before Deck the Hallways. Thanks to @blackpinup22 for asking for this after 18 months. I'm glad you got me when you know I ain’t sh#t, lmao. Reblogs and interaction is currency for writers on this app. If you like it, reblog.

Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Bucky woke up the next morning and stared at you as the sun came up. You looked so angelic. He couldn’t believe his luck, and fought his instinct to grab you again. Last night had been everything he’d dreamt of and more. His heart flipped as he studied your face. He had to do this right; he couldn't scare you off.

You’d said that you wanted him ruined for any other woman. Bucky didn’t know how to tell you that he had been before he laid a finger on you. He was so far gone that he couldn’t sleep and he didn’t want to leave, so he got up, quietly cleaned himself up and slipped on his clothes from the previous night. Then, he snuck out of the door.

Bucky came back 45 minutes later, carefully replacing the keys that were on the table next to your door. 

He carried the bags into the kitchen and opened your refrigerator. 

Food. It was one way to express how he felt about you.

——

You woke up to the smell of food coming from your kitchen. You peeked your head out of your bedroom and saw Bucky puttering around.

You closed the door before he saw you and leaned against it, heart skip-pattering and a giant grin on your face. Your mind couldn’t believe the night actually happened, but your body told you it did.

You ran into the bathroom and turned on the shower while you brushed your teeth quickly. You took a famous seven-minute shower and threw your hair up in a bun, trying not to take the situation too seriously. You threw on an old t-shirt and some shorts, trying desperately to not look like you were trying too hard.

You looked ruefully in the mirror before turning to join Bucky. You thought that you looked a mess, but it was the best you could do.

——

“Why are you always trying to feed me, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky turned around from his preparations and his heart skipped a beat. He felt his face split into a grin when he saw you. You looked beautiful and sexy as hell, fresh faced and relaxed. You were so damn hot.

“Morning, Doll.”

The way you smiled and walked up to him and put your arms around him made his anxiety disappear. He wrapped you up in an embrace and kissed you on your forehead.

“Gotta keep your strength up.”

“For what?”

You smirked up at him.

“At school, you are on all day when you’re teaching. You need sustenance.”

You stared at Bucky’s lips. Bucky stared back at you. 

“And on a Saturday morning?”

Bucky raised his eyebrow up. He leaned down to your ear, his breath on your neck making you shiver.

“You need strength for weekend activities.”

You shuddered in his arms at his voice.

“Activities, huh?”

Your sultry tone was doing things to him. 

“Yes. Activities…”

Bucky kissed your neck and then pecked you on your lips as he took you by the shoulders and moved you away from him, trying to keep focus.

“It does take almost all day to wash my hair.”

Bucky looked at your messy bun. 

“You make beauty effortless, Doll.”

You blushed and ducked your head as you turned around and looked at the spread.

“Let’s eat.”

Bucky pulled out your seat and placed a napkin in your lap. You smiled at him as he sat across from you.

“What did I do to deserve this kind of service?”

You reached for the maple syrup which you realized you didn’t have in your pantry.

“Did you go grocery shopping?”

“I did.” 

Bucky stared at you as he took a bite of food. Those lips distracted you and you shifted in your seat, the delicious ache in your core giving you an inkling of why.

“I did it because I had a great time last night. And food is my love language.”

Your eyes got wide. Did he just say 'love?'

Bucky started choking.

“I mean…Not like that. I mean.. Not not like that… shit….” 

He felt like such fool as you watched him take a drink of juice.

“You good?”

“No. I’m a fucking idiot.”

You smiled at him, feeling disappointed that he didn’t want to express those types of feelings. The types of feelings that had butterflies trapped below your rib cage since the first time you saw him.

“It’s okay Bucky. We had a great night. We don’t have to ruin the vibe with all that ‘what are we?’ nonsense.”

Bucky paused. Wait. Did you not want to define the relationship? Fuck. He shouldn’t be such a simp.

“Right. Yeah, absolutely. Don’t want to ruin the mellow.”

You two ate, making small talk about the Saturday errands, laundry, cleaning and planning for the next week that needed to be done and then you both moved to put the dishes in the washer and clean the kitchen.

When you were done, you stood staring at each other.

Bucky wanted to say the things he thought he shouldn’t say, but he didn’t want to ruin this. He was afraid he already had. All he wanted was to take you into his arms and tell you that he wanted you, that he felt very deeply for you already. But it was too soon. 

Wasn’t it?

“Well, Doll. See you Monday morning.”

“See you Monday, James.”

You wanted to throw yourself into his arms and burrow you head into his chest, pull him back to your bedroom and cuddle all day, but you decided not to. Maybe this was a one time hookup, or maybe there would be more to come. You didn’t want to be that girl who just wanted a relationship. 

So you decided to be a grown up about it.

Bucky walked out, looking back at you before you closed the door. Your heart sank that he was leaving, but you just waved as he climbed into his car.

You spied Bucky’s tie peeking out from under your couch as you walked back to your bedroom, picked it up and put it around your neck, smiling as you remembered the night before. You debated giving it back to him. If you never had another night, you’d have this. 

You were thinking about how to act around him at work when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart flipped when you saw it was Bucky.

“I forgot…”

Bucky stared at you in his tie and licked his lips when you opened the door.

“You forgot your tie.”

“No. I forgot my… I forgot my you.” 

Bucky looked at you and sighed. Your butterflies awoke.

“I forgot my you.”

Bucky took the ends of the tie and pulled you toward him. The action was unneeded because you felt this magnetic pull which drew your lips together like magnets.

He mumbled something when he separated from you, and you thought you heard what he said, but you couldn’t believe it. His mouth brushed the shell of your ear as he whispered it, urgently begging.

“Please be my girl, Yourname. I want you, I like you. So so so much.” 

His lips brushed your neck, making you shiver as the butterflies rioted in your stomach. He was slurring as if drunk on your scent and proximity. 

“Wan’ you to be mine. Please. Don’t wan’ anyone else. I’m ruined. Just like you said.”  

The velvet tenor of his voice made you tremble, and all of your senses were alive in all areas of your body.

“J-James, what? What are you saying?”

You were breathless as your hands traced the muscles in his back, and followed his lats around to the front of his shirt, toying with the buttons, your fingers itching to take it off again as he walked you backwards into your apartment.

After kicking your door closed, Bucky stopped long enough to pull back and look in your eyes as your hands trailed up to his shoulders. 

“I want you to be my girl, Yourname.”

You looked down and then up again, biting your lip to keep from grinning like a fool. Then you nodded.

“Okay. I’ll be your girl, James.”

“Fuck yeah!”

Bucky let out a whoop and then walked you back into the nearest wall, hands everywhere.

“Want you. Need you.”

The feeling of intoxication was contagious, and your head was spinning at Bucky’s ardor.

“We went all night, James. I’m already sore…”

Your protest was countered by the fact that you were unbuttoning Bucky’s shirt and pushing it off of his shoulders.

Bucky dropped to his knees, looking up at you with those blue, blue eyes.

“Did I do that? I’m so sorry, Doll, Let me kiss and make it better.”

You giggled and rolled your eyes as he pulled your shorts and panties just down enough with his hand so that his tongue could reach your cunt. 

Bucky’s lips kissed yours and his tongue split them in two, collecting your juices on his tongue. It was so fucking sexy to see him so desperate for you that he didn’t even take off you panties. You weren’t laughing anymore as he dove face first into your moist cunt, sukling your clit and inserting two fingers over your panties to finger fuck you as he tried to shatter your soul.

“Fuck you’re so perfect!”

Bucky moaned it into your cunt as you scream-whined.

“Oh my god, yes! Ohhhhhhh. Mmmmmmh. YesyesyesYESSSS!”

Your legs started shaking and your hands fisted in his hair, pulling the more he moaned when you did it.  He stared you  straight in the eye as you came and tried to hold on to the wall above your head for purchase. 

“One more time…”

Bucky pulled your panties all the way off as he drove his entire mouth into your cunt, tongue fucking and sucking your clit impossibly at the same time. You were on tiptoes and instantly on edge again.

“Oh my god I’m gonna cum again.”

You were speaking in a low sultry whine as you held his head and stared at him again. It was so intimate and so fucking hot when you came into his mouth.

“James! Fuck.”

You laughed as he stood up, sliding his body against yours along the way. You fisted his cock through his pants.

“What do you need, Doll?”

“Need my man to fuck me up, James.”

“Damn, Doll.”

Bucky picked you up and walked over to your couch, sitting down with you on his lap, bottomless, squirming on his lap in an effort to get what you wanted where you wanted. Your soreness was forgotten. Your only mission was to get his pants off.

You started gyrating in Bucky’s lap, trying to get some friction on your clit while he gently swatted your cunt while his hands reached under your shirt to squeeze your braless tits.

“This sweet, sweet pussy. Don’t want to hurt it anymore.”

He gave you a quick, filthy peck on your lips.

“Pleaseeee. James. Please hurt me.”

His teasing was driving you crazy and he was loving it. You could feel his bulge rubbing against your ass.

“You can’t mean that, Doll.”

Bucky’s eyes mesmerized you as one of his huge hands lifted your t-shirt and he leaned down to suck and pull your nipple into his mouth. You panted and moaned as you propped your leg up outside of his on the couch, opening your legs even wider as an invitation.

Bucky licked his fingers and reached around and under your leg to rub your pussy as he sucked your nipple again.

“Ah that feels goood, James…unnnnnh yessss.”

You both looked down to see you start making a wet mess all over his hand, then used two fingers to stroke circles on you. He alternated watching your face and your pussy. 

“So fucking beautiful, Doll.”

You came on his hand again and then he let you slip down to the floor while he stood up to take off his pants. When he sat back down, you immediately grabbed his bobbing dick, proclaiming “Mine!”, and wasted no time deep throating and gagging on him. 

“Holy shit, that’s right Doll, it’s yours. But…take it easy on me… fuck!”

But it was Bucky who was fucking into your throat preventing your breathing at the moment. He let you gag and drool all over him for a few minutes before he pulled you off, kissing you filthily and fully as he squeezed your tits again.

“So fucking hot. Get up here.”

He went under your shirt to suck your nipple as you positioned your legs on either side of his widespread thighs. You scrambled to take off your tee while Bucky licked his fingers to stretch you out again. You wiggled your ass as he positioned his cockhead at your entrance and the magic began.

Bucky intoned a deep, “Ahhhhhhh,” as you slid down the length of him, and you immediately started whining. He hit that spot deep inside you and your apartment was filled with the pornographic sounds of your flesh slapping together.

You started riding him harder as you two watched him filling you up just right.

“Why are you fucking your dick so good, Doll? Such a good fucking girl, My good girl. My best girl.”

Bucky’s words drove you over the edge and your eyes rolled back into your head as Bucky held your wildly gyrating hips steady.

“Need more…”

Bucky turned you around reverse cowgirl, but took control of your hips and leaned you back, using you like a fuck toy, slamming you down on his cock. He was going as deep as you ever felt him while whispering filthy things in your ear.

“You thought you were sore before. That’s nothin’, Doll. Gonna make sure you can’t walk straight all next week. When I see you coming down the hall I better see the evidence of how I molded you to my dick this weekend.”

“Bucky, FUCKKKKK! I’m gonna cum. All over!”

Bucky scooted to the edge of the couch as you released, the squelch of your fluids outright obscene.

You collapsed on him, only slowly realizing that Bucky was still hard inside you. 

“Oh… nooooo….”

Bucky kissed your temple as he moved you two down to the floor.

“Oh, yes, Doll.”

You were on your hands and knees as he put his hand on the back of your neck and started fucking into you. Bucky helped you realize that you were not done because when he stopped moving, you found yourself throwing it back on him.

“Fuck yes, fuck your dick, Doll. Sssssshit.”

He watched your ass work and then grabbed your hips, his stroke becoming erratic. Knowing that his end was near brought you another and you shattered just before he did. Bucky’s thick streams of cum filled you up and then leaked out of you almost instantly with their velocity and copiousness.

You were on the rug in your living room, trapped by the bearable weight of Bucky’s body. You didn’t think you were able to move anyway. A sudden rush of cool air was replaced by a feeling of weightlessness as Bucky packed you up, put you on the toilet and bade you to pee.

You did, unashamed as you sleepily watched Bucky run a hot bath. He looked back at you and blushed when he caught you admiring him.

“Can I stay a while, Doll?”

How did the man have the nerve to be bashful after what you two just did? You wanted to say that he could stay forever, but you just nodded, and softly said, “Yeah.”

[ellievickstar]

Final Choice

A/N: So, I saw your guys making up ideas for this part…I must say. Some were happy, some just wanted Azriel to suffer…which one did I go with? Well…read to find out :) Also the beginning of this fic is in Rhys’s POV since Azzy and our dearest Y/N are kind unconscious

Summary: When then mating bond finally snaps into place, what are you meant to do when you realise your mate has another in his heart, will you break it off to save yourself, or will your mate be able to save this heartbreak?

Request: N/A

Pairing: Azriel x Witch!Reader

Warnings: Self-hate. Mostly written in Rhys's POV I thought it would be funny to see his monologue of things. confessions. Heartache.

~*~*~*~*~

Rhys’s POV

This was…unexpected. Not that it wasn’t out of character for Azriel or Y/N to end up sabotaging themselves instead of talking through their issues like normal adult faeries or witches. I shook my head as Nesta helped to break the shield around Y/N. Thankfully, for that spell to work, the witch casting it had to be able to stay awake the whole time, if not, the safety measure — that had been weaved into the ritual by Y/N’s mother — would kick in and stop all magic completely.

Both were alive and I breathed out a sigh of exasperation. Couldn’t they have waited until the morning to do something so extreme? I was pretty sure I was still hungover from drinking with Cassian and Azriel to distract one from worrying over the fact his mate hadn’t come home. He could feel her alive and well across the bond, but I suspected she needed space, so we made sure we drank him into literal oblivion.

If only I had known this was what she was doing….

I shook my head. No, this wasn’t my fault. Feyre had already been telling me to stop blaming myself for everything that happened to our friends, but hell, if I had let Azriel go after her then maybe they’d work through their feelings, if I had ordered him away from Elain when I first suspected that he was starting to hurt Y/N, maybe things would be different.

I heard my mate come up behind me, she glanced at the pair, shaking her head disappointed. it reminded me of my mother when she caught me trying to sneak out for a flight around Moonstone palace. Wrapping a wing around Feyre, I pulled her closer to me, making sure to drape an arm around her waist.

“Nyx is asleep again, he had quite a fright from all the screaming, but he’s alright now,” She murmured. I hummed as I watched Madja — her eyes looked as if she was going to kill both witch and Illyrian once they awoke — with the help of Nesta and Cassian, drag both unconscious bodies to separate rooms.

“Azriel is…a dumbass,” Amren said from beside us, Varian nodding from beside her. I had no clue where the latter had come from, but it was anyone’s guess what the two had been up to when the events earlier transpired. Feyre agreed with Amren, but I had a small inkling that she was being biased towards the witch she considered a sister. Smiling to myself, I let go of Feyre if only to pick up the worn out leather book that had been beside the symbol-spell-ritual, whatever the witches called it.

Flipping through the pages, I noted that there was no name on the book, but I was sure that this was a diary. There were personal accounts of someone’s life, while a few pages here and there were sketches of spells or instructions on witch magic. That’s when I came across a familiar name. This entry said:

‘Y/N is only five now. But, I can sense the war is coming…soon. I don’t know if I will survive. My Magic is growing weaker, Y/N is feeding off of it, but who could blame her? Especially…when she’s more powerful then any other witch in history. I don’t quite remember what her father was…but his name. I will never forget his name. My love. I miss my lover.

So this was her mother’s diary. Interesting indeed. I hummed carefully as I closed the book, all the information I needed was inside. All I needed to do now was get a hold of that sand that was used in Y/N’s rituals. “Feyre darling, how would you like to speak to the dead?”

~*~*~*~*~

Y/N’s POV

“Why do you love him, Y/N?” You closed your eyes as the question rang through you. “In all of my lonely nights, when I was a ghost inside, he was there for me. Whenever I drank too much, whenever my eyes cried floods, he would be there for me, he’d listen. He made my demons go away, he would clear the darkness, he was there for me. He was there when I lost faith, he was there through every heartbreak. And I’d do the same for him,” You admitted.

Your ancestor smiled at you. “My dearest child, you can’t see it can you?” “See what? I love him. I love him I love him I love him. But I don’t understand if he loves me? When I look at him and her I can’t help but wonder ‘what about us’? what about all the times we spent together? What about all the times he said he would have the answer for me? What about all the moments we shared, what about all the disastrous pranks, plating footsie under the table, laughing together under the night sky during Starfall? What about love? What about trust, what about us?” Tears began to fill your eyes. You didn’t understand anymore. You were so sure that breaking the mating bond was the answer, but when you did you felt it, that love for you, but you also felt that love he had for her. Her.

You couldn’t put it into words. How you felt that roar of love for you, but there was that spark, there was something that kept him from loving your completely. And you didn’t understand. What happened to promises of forever, what happened to ‘whatever end’? What happened to the both of you. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream at him, wanted to let this pain, this confusion out. You couldn’t help but feel so alone. What happened to the times you stuck around with him even when everyone blamed him for something went wrong. What happened to the times you would listen to him for hours as he croie down because of nightmares? What happened to the times you’d soothe him, even if it was the latest hours?

Your heart was breaking and there was nothing you could do about it. You had no way of knowing whether he truly loved you. How could you believe anything he said? After all the times you had to watch as he fell over himself because of Morrigan. After all the times he practically ogled at the youngest Archeron. Would there ever be a day you would find piece within your relationship? Your heart was bleeding and no amount of stitches or bandaids could stop it. You bit the back of you closed fist as you sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore…please,”

“I will always be here for you, you may summon me whenever you wish, not just in your dreams, child. But even if there are times you can’t bring yourself to call me, just look to the moon. It will shine the same wherever you are, and I’ll be here as you search for the light,” She bent to your height as she gently took your hands. Her fingers lightly brushed against your cheeks. “It doesn’t matter what he decides, in the end, you are still the most powerful queen of witches there has ever been,” You nodded, but something in you wanted to know more. But before you could ask anything, she had already disappeared, leaving you alone in the endless darkness of your own mind.

~*~*~*~*~

Rhys’s POV

Getting ahold of the sand as a fae, was hard. We visited six different merchants all selling witch’s tools before finally we met a merchant that could sell us the sand. Feyre had gasped when she hear the price, but to me it felt like I had barely scratched the surface of my account, Feyre called me entitled when I said that to her. (A/N: we love rich Rhys)

Okay…so the book says to pour the sand on the ground in this shape. Feyre held out a hand and I was confused at first before she rolled her eyes and said, “You’ll get it wrong, plus, I paint, so I have steadier hands then you,” I wanted to scoff but she was right. She was better suited doing this. Especially with those hands that were basically built for painting and good artwork.

After the...spell? Ritual? Magic Shape? - I'll have to ask Y/N - was complete, I opened the diary and chanted the words that was written. Light magic seemed to burst from the sand was it began to glow. Feyre squinted her eyes against te bright light while poor me had to keep on reading the book.

And as the light finally began to dull down I looked up, and smiled.

"Your majesty," I purred as I bowed to the hooded figure before me. Feyre looked confused at first, but as the woman lifted her head and smiled down at us, she froze and curtsied.

"No need for that High Lord and Lady of the Night Court, though, I did wonder when you would finally call. It seems my daughter has gotten into a bit of trouble, hasn't she?" I nodded, rising to face her. She was as elegant as I remember, clad in white as flowers were weaved through her thick curls. Unlike Y/N's near-straight brown hair, hers was dark and black as a crow's feathers. She held her head high with an air of grace as her crown signalled to all who she truly was, the hood she had previously cloaked herself with melting away.

The late Queen of Witches. Y/N's mother.

"Well to be quite clear, your daughter is an absolute joy and she will make a wonderful king. But unfortunately, we do have a few questions, concerning the spell that breaks the mating bond," She nodded, wanting me to continue. "I can sense it...I can still smell the connection between them and even as they shut me out of their minds their souls still seemed to be intertwined. So if that spell didn't break the bond, what exactly did it do?"

She hummed, considering my question carefully, thinking silently to herself before nodding as if agreeing to something. "I cannot tell you much, High Lord, but what I can tell you, is that what is that both of them are the key to what holds them back. Not one, but both," I wanted to ask her more. Beg her for answers if it meant saving my two friends, but without a word she had vanished, the spell had given out. I had no skill of my own to be able to maintain the line of communication between us and the afterlife, I couldn't redo the spell. I didn't know how to save my friends from themselves.

~*~*~*~*~

Y/N POV

Blinking away the darkness you were greeted to a warm sight, with shadows creeping across the ceiling, and a shadow singer sitting close to your bed, his arms crossed, fury was clear as day, stricken across his face.

"Why would you do that?" you sat up, trying to understand his question. All you remembered was the pain...the ritual...the mating bond! You reached out to that tether you used to feel and as I realised it was still there my heart sank. "I- I didn't think you truly wanted me as a mate," You blurted out as you silently arose from your bed.

"What must I do to make you understand? I want to be with you!" He tried to approach you, but you raised a hand and he stopped. "Why? Because of this- this cauldron forsaken mating bond? Because you feel some nobility some honour saying that you chose to be with your mate!? You didn't even want to be with me. Even before, you were going to leave me, now the only difference is that your soul is bound to me and even then everything you do is just-" He let go of an exasperated breath as he listened to you rattle on.

"What can I do? I told you I love you but it seems everything I do is some scheme or because I feel pity for you. Have I hurt you so much that you cannot bring yourself to believe that every single thing I do is insincere," He paused, breathing heavily as he stepped towards you. "I don't know what else to say, what to do. I'm sorry. I love you. I wish I could take everything back. But don't walk away from me. Hit me, tear me apart, give me new scares to carry the shame for the rest of my life. Break my heart, break it a thousand times over, it was only yours to break anyways. But stay with me. Please," You didn't know what to do, and as his hands finally reached you, red hot magic seemed to burn between you as you gasped and he hissed, pulling away.

What in the name of the mother? You blinked as the red print of magic from his had seemed to fade away slowly from my skin. That was...how. Looking back at Azriel you tried to recall what you had read about the ritual. When it failed it would create a shield between both mates so that the ritual would not be tried again. The only way to break this spell was...you shook your head and sobbed into the back of your fist as you made a terrible realisation.

"The book- 'This wall shall only be destroyed if both souls accept their own and each others truest emotions for each other. Only then will they come together.'" Tears streamed down your face, you had been so stupid. So, so stupid. And now it was hurting Azriel. You felt so stupid, and angry.

You tried to sit back down, but you completely missed the bed and tumbled to the floor, Azriel unable to do anything as he stared at his own hands, shock still written in his features.

This was bad.

"I see you both have finally awoken. And now we know what the little spell did," Rhysand spoke up. You whipped your head to the door and there he stood. Feyre smiling as she waved to you, happy that you hadn't killed yourself on accident yet. "The spell shouldn't exist. I have accepted that Azriel will never love me, and he has accepted that I will always love him, even if it tears me apart inside, even if it has nearly killed me...several times," You said. Azriel shook his head as he buried his face in his hands, and Rhys seemed to frown.

The High Lord and High Lady said nothing in response, only opting to pat Azriel on the back as they left. You didn't understand. You had to be right. There was no way that Azriel loved you, right?

No. These hopeful thoughts would only harm you. You mustn't think too much of what ifs. That's when Azriel finally spoke. "I swear to you, I will spend the rest of my time here making up for everything I did. I can't excuse how I've hurt you, but I will try to fix this. I will court you how I should have, love you until you can see, and I will wait for you, everyday," Gazing up into his brown eyes, ones that were usually piercing and intimidating now soft and sincere. You smiled as a small piece of you heart began to believe that maybe, this could be real, allowing you to make, this final choice.

"Okay."

~*~*~*~*~

A/N: I decided to stop torturing you guys. I love all of you <3333 my bestest babes. I will be doing bonuses if anyone has any requests, but this marks the end of the choice series. I know this is abit rushed but it's been dragged on for so long and I didn't want the series to be long either. Also because I think you guys kinda deserve a happy ending. I love you <33

taglist: @azriels-mate123 @penguinsworldsblog @hannahx1111 @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @positivewitch @happyseadreams @fuckthatfeeling @meritxellao @xiangping-28 @clarkie-carmody-blog @aroseinvelaris @azrielhours @shadowsinger-654 @azzydaddy @nisa-wisa @cosmic-whispers @cat-or-kitten @thecraziestcrayon @thegirlintheshadows101 @marina468 @act1839 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @holywolfsstuff @gengen64 @goldenmagnolias @tobifeemo @readerworld22 @cyrygher @shisingh @txzii @antisentimentalus @t0uch-starved-h0e

(If your user is in bold I could not tag you, sorry T^T if you want to be tagged please specify in the replies <3)