#that it's okay to not pour all the energy i have left into this

[void-ink-studios]

Rinse and Spit - A Mouthwashing AU

I fully blame @hrhowling for infecting me with these brain worms, and @an-artist-complex for encouraging them.

So....

Here we go.

There is an intention to make this the first part of a series, but in case that doesn't happen, I at least wanted to make this first part stand alone.

Enjoy~

Word Cout: 2,100

Content Warning: Jimmy is his own content warning.

Curly had decided he hated the sun set.  At least the sunset that seemed to be the only thing displayed in the Med Bay window screen.  He hated every aspect of it.

He hated the way the reds and oranges were too bright, painfully so, constantly bathing his body in its burning light.  He hated the way it flickered and tore, as if a company like Pony Express couldn’t have afforded to spring for a screen that actually worked.

Or, in light of recent news, maybe they really couldn’t after all.

He hated how it buzzed and crackled, never offering him a single moment of silence as he sat here.

He hated it so very much.

Yet he poured every ounce of energy he had into looking at it.  Studied every pixel, every strange artifact of light.

Because what was the alternative?

The alternative was acknowledging the agony he was in, every moment, every breath, every slight shift in his body.  The alternative was to stare into the metal ceilings of the Tulpar and worry about each and every seam.  The alternative was to wiggle his limbs, and see if today was the day he had the strength and pain tolerance to sit up.

He deserved this.  He knew he deserved it.  It had become part of his regular cycle of thoughts, right alongside wishing for death, or praying that this is just some horrific dream he’d wake up from any day now.

But the longer he stared at that god damn sunset, the more he had to come to grips with reality.  And every second of that reality was earned and deserved.

He often thought back to where he went wrong. And there was a lot of time to think.

He thought about telling... Him it would all be okay. How he listened to Him talk about how there was no survivors despite the efforts of the brave Captain Curly. Curly had been so confused about what He meant at the time. He could've seen the warning it was. The threat it was. Why didn't he go to the cockpit with Him?

He thought about Her, desperately hiding the gun so that even if she couldn't reach it, He wouldn't either. When she told him she was pregnant, told him a second time what happened. Curly had been so worried about Her hurting herself that he didn't even stop to think about how he was hurting her.

He thought about that late night conversation with Her. About the dead pixel on the screen in the Lounge. He had told her how he looked at the bigger picture. How true that was. Standing too far back to acknowledge the details, the important details. Why were there no locks on the sleeping quarter's door, but they needed a code just to get some fucking sweetener?

Anya...

Maybe that's why he stared so heavily at the sunset to his left. Maybe he was looking for a dead pixel of his own. Just something that could connect him to Anya. Something that could tell her that he Understood.

He stared at the sunset because what was the alternative?

The alternative was to look at the other side of the room.

Curly didn't get many visitors. He didn't blame them. Swansea wasn't paid nearly enough to look at his traitorous captain, and Daisuke was just a kid, one who didn't need an anatomy lesson.

No, Curly didn't get visitors. Only one of two people would ever be on that side of the room. And he couldn't dare look either of them in the eye.

He decided to try and sit up today. He hadn't tried in... Jesus, how long has it been? How long has he been sitting like this?

Regardless, he had tried a few times before. He was sick of sitting in his own filth. Festering in his own blood and pus. His body protested his every movement as he tried to prop himself up on the stumps where his hands once were.

I hope this hurts.

It did...

I hope this hurts.

It so very did. He couldn't do it.

He heard the heavy doors slide open, metal grinding against metal. He didn't look. He couldn't.

Please no...

"Feeling lively today, aren't we?"

Curly still couldn't look at Him. He knew what was coming.

"Hey. If you're awake enough to squirm, you're awake enough to look at me."

He still didn't move.

"I said Look at me."

Curly felt hands on his head, forcefully turned to face Him.

A face of a friend. Or, what was once a friend. Or, maybe not even that. Whatever he was then, it didn't change what he was now. A truth Curly tried to ignore, one that he was forced to stare at every day.

Jimmy was a monster.

"...You still think you're too good for us, don't you?"

Curly stared at Jimmy. Before, Jimmy would say things he thought unnerving, but ultimately harmless. He had made dark jokes before, things Curly would laugh at uncomfortably, and they'd move on. He'd say things that were needlessly defensive or aggressive, things Curly would try to talk him down from, with mixed results, and they'd move on.

Curly couldn't do either of those things now. Even if he could speak, he couldn't speak over the look in Jimmy's eyes. Was that emptiness always there?

Jimmy grabbed him by the collar of his hospital gown, pulling a wheezing gasp from his mangled throat.

"You think you're too good for us. For this job. Even when we're keeping you alive and cleaning up your blood and shit, you still think you're too good for us."

Jimmy made a sound, one that might've been a laugh or a scoff.

"Well. So much for your greener pastures."

Jimmy dropped him back onto the bed with a rough thud, sending shocks of pain up and down his back and head.

Curly watched as Jimmy casually, oh so casually, walked towards the desk scattered with pills. The former captain couldn't look at his despised sunset anymore. Not when he knew what was coming.

"At least you have these to make you feel better. Open up."

I hope this hurts.

It does.

I hope this hurts.

Jimmy is far from gentle in opening his mouth, shoving fingers against his tongue and down his throat. Curly chokes, he does every time. He had thought he at least would stop struggling from reflex, but his body fails him again.

He flailed his arms against Jimmy's shoulders and face as his mouth is wrenched further open and the pill is dropped in.

"Stop fucking moving."

Curly wheezed as Jimmy lifted his head up by his jaw and slammed him back down. Small mercies it's only against a pillow.

Jimmy used his fingers to shove the pill down his throat, either not knowing or not caring that he can't breathe.

It's over before Curly knows it, trying his best to gather his breath back as Jimmy's fingers retract. The two pilots look at each other, a pair of empty eyes meeting a lone trembling one.

"I'm fixing things. Stop looking at me like that."

Curly flinched, but it doesn't make the incoming punch any softer. Or the next two or three.

"You're not better than me, Curly. I'm the fucking captain now. And that means-"

"Jimmy?"

Curly's breath paused, his eye flicking back to the door. Anya stood there, compressed in her body language.

"What?"

"U-Uhm, Swansea wanted to see you? Something about a problem in the Lounge?"

"Unbelievable. Can't you guys do anything without me?"

"If it's not a good time-"

"No, no, I'll go take a look. Do my job. Someone has to around here, right?"

Curly watched carefully as Anya steeled her expression. She moved out of the doorway, no longer meeting Jimmy's gaze.

"Right... I'll take over from here."

"About time."

And with that, he's gone. Curly was aware how loud his breathing is. For once, even the buzzing of the window screen seemed quiet, drowned out in comparison to his labored breaths.

Anya moved to sit next to him. Just as she always does. She's always quiet, occasionally filling him in on the goings on of the ship. Told him about their precious Cargo.

Fucking Mouthwash.

What a joke.

Today, she's silent. Mostly just staring at the pain medications on the table across from her.

He wished he could say something to her. He wished he had his own dead pixel to point out to here. One hidden right under her nose, right here in Med Bay. Then she'd smile, maybe laugh a little bit about it, like she would've before-

Take responsibility

"How are you today, cap- Curly?"

Curly looked at her. Anya. Sweet Anya...

The best he could giver her was a shrug, even as it pulled painfully on his neck and shoulders.

"Quiet day today... We ran out of Chicken Noodle Soup. Looks like it'll be clear soup for now."

Take responsibility

Anya looked at him. Her eyes were empty to, but not like Jimmy's. Hers were drained.

"...Are you okay, Curly? I um... I heard Jimmy."

He didn't know what to think about that. She's asking him if he's okay? He doesn't drop his gaze, as much as he wants to. She deserves better.

And isn't that just the thing?

Anya deserves better. She always had. She should be in medical school, not drifting in a floating cage in who knows what section of the void of space. She should have had a better captain. A better crew. Someone who could-

Take responsibility

"Now you know how it feels."

Her voice cuts through him, her words akin to dumping ice water onto his chest. Her face said she regrets saying it the second it left her mouth.

But it took all the air out from Curly's lungs.

"I-I'm sorry, that was cruel..."

No, Anya, I deserved that.

"You know something silly?"

Curly tilted his head at her. She had his attention. Undivided. Even when it didn't mean much anymore.

"...I can't bring myself to hate you. Even though you got us into this mess. Even though you didn't do anything. I can't hate you."

You should. I should've said something. Done something.

"A part of me wants to. Would make things easier. Wouldn't fix anything, but it'd make things easier. I don't know how much I can keep going, Captain."

Curly's breath hitched, his eye flicking between her and the pill bottle.

He groaned, gurgled, tried to force his useless throat to make words. He knows she'd probably want to hear from him the least but... well, she should hear from someone.

"Don't try to strain yourself, Captain. Just... try to go to sleep. Forget I said anything. I'm sorry."

No, you shouldn't be sorry, this isn't your fault, I-

The door slid open one more time, and the both of them flinched. Neither of them looked at the door. They looked at each other instead. Dreading the same phantom opening his mouth and making some remark-

"We need to talk."

Swansea...

Curly looked at the round man, a grim expression on his face.

"Swansea, I just got back here, I can't leave him alone like that. He just had his pill, he could vomit, and I need to be there to adjust him if he does."

"It won't be long. But we need to talk."

"About...?"

"Something that needs to be done. Privately."

Swansea cast a dark look at Curly, a withering one. The mechanic and captain rarely saw eye to eye, especially during those last few days before the crash. He had never visited him in the Med Bay. Not that he blamed him.

"Is it a team meeting again? Is Daisuke and-"

"Daisuke has Jim distracted for a bit. This isn't a team meeting. This is a you and me meeting. Meet me in Utility, if you want."

Anya looked between him and Curly. "I really should keep an eye on him."

"You can do whatever you want. But I have a plan. You can either be in or out of it. Just figured you might want in."

Anya wrung her hands together, looking at the sunset.

"...You'll be alright, captain?"

Curly nods. He can at least give her that much. She doesn't have to care for him, not right now. She looks hesitant. He tries to nod a little harder, but the wheeze that escapes him betrayed his efforts.

"Whenever you're ready, Anya."

"...I am."

The two turn to leave. Curly groans, trying to get his voice to wrap around the words he wants. Words he should've said a long time ago. Words he doesn't think he'll ever be able to say.

Take responsibility

I'm sorry.

[logansbaby]

GUILTY AS SIN - Logan Howlett

❥ summary: the entire time you’ve known logan howlett, you’ve tried to keep your longings locked. then, one night, all that effort goes to waste when you’re confronted about your feelings.

word count: 8.5k (IM SORRY!!!!)

pairings: logan howlett x fem! mutant reader

content warnings: 18+ CONTENT MDNI, masturbation, dirty thoughts, light choking, multiple orgasms, oral (reader and logan receiving), spitting, sixty-nining, scent kink, like one spank, underwear stays ON, slight hint of arousal from crying?, creampie, p in v (practice safe sex ty!)

❥ a/n: guys…… am i…. a whore? (yes) do i need to be locked up? (also yes). i started this when i was on my period so maybe that’s the reason this is so filthy? anyway i don’t know how it got to 8k of smut but it DID and i have nothing to say about that… also reader has a mutation it’s not super in depth but her hair changes to red in certain situations and she has red light/energy she manifest in her hands, kind of confusing but it’s okay. anyway please please enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3

— ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

‘I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?’

Guilty as Sin? - Taylor Swift

— ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

THE SHEETS are chilled, crisp to the touch, cold enough that shivers tickle their way across exposed skin. A sigh is heard, loud enough for wandering ears as a figure moves about in the unmade, blanket muddled bed. The window had been left open, and as a result, cold air had poured into the room.

Despite the fact that goosebumps adorn your body, it felt as though you were on fire. Huffs escaped parted lips, a charged hum zipping through your veins that only intensified each time you moved. You’d been trying to sleep for the past couple hours, trying to ignore the need thrumming through you, but had only managed to fail.

You turn on your side for possibly the twentieth time, but the position only worsens your state as the flesh of your thighs squeeze unintentionally, a wave of brief relief sent to your throbbing core. Tears brim your lashes, damp with frustration because fuck, your body was humming with lust and everything was so, so sensitive.

This was all Logan’s fault.

The man has been gone less than a week and yet, your body was practically vibrating with need, trembling with desire.

The feelings you harbor make you feel shameful and guilty for a handful of reasons.

Logan was not your boyfriend; he wasn’t even a friend. While he was cordial with the others in the mansion, he remained cold and indifferent toward you.

You pretended it never bothered you when he pointedly ignored your greetings in passing or refused to partner up with you. You didn’t understand what you’d done to upset him, to warrant his treatment of you as if you were the most annoying person on the planet. More often than not, you are the subject of the man’s pointed glare.

So, logically, your heart shouldn’t race at the mere thought of him. Nor should desire pool between your thighs whenever images of his sweaty form cloud your mind.

By definition, you were immensely smart; a genius with how you could understand what others could not.

Though, you were only human and Logan fucking Howlett was a man worth embarrassing yourself over, especially when he looked like he did.

He wasn’t, your mind huffed.

He was, your heart retorted.

A memory comes forward, one that has your cheeks blushing, your chest rising a little faster than before.

A couple weeks ago, you’d been up late, struggling to sleep and with the way it evaded you, wandering the halls had been your solution, in hopes of tiring yourself out.

But when you had walked down your hallway, you froze at the sight of a shirtless Logan in his room, the door left ajar.

A towel covered his head as he scrubbed away the wetness in his hair, and you desperately hoped he hadn’t noticed your presence. Water dribbled down his muscular body, and your eyes greedily watched each droplet descend down, glistening against the tan stomach you wanted to bite. What really had you drooling, however, was the thick, prominent vein that crept down into the waistband of his gray sweatpants. Said pants had your eyes wide with the prominent bulge tented in the material.

When you just barely caught yourself from moaning, you had dashed back to your room right away. You were wide awake still, but for a completely different reason. All you could think about was tracing your tongue along that vein.

If you’d fucked yourself that night to the thought of him and his glistening torso, no one had to know.

So theoretically, if you gave in to your cravings, it wouldn’t be the first time, but it certainly wouldn’t make you feel any less guilty.

Scarlett hues dust your cheekbones, lips bitten until they’re swollen and shiny with spit. Your breasts ache from inside the confines of the pink, lacy shirt, made worse with each labored breath you inhale as perky nipples brush the material. Your hole feels incredibly empty, the need to be filled overpowering. Your clit, puffy and neglected, throbs with pure, searing need.

Another wave of aching pleasure from your wetness breaks your resolve— a shaky hand slipping from its place on your stomach down, down, down until cold fingers meet the mess between your thighs.

A gasp sounds, melodic as it swirls with heavy breathes, fluttering around the room as you brush over your clit. Even through the material of your underwear, the slight pressure of your fingers made you mewl.

Flashes of Logan dance behind closed lids, your imagination running wild while you messily swirl over your bundle of nerves.

You wanted him so, so bad, in every way possible, it actually hurt, both your heart and core.

Your mind submerges your consciousness with thoughts of him; his pretty hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the tufts of his brown hair. The muscles that were constantly on display, his thick thighs that you wanted to ride until you came all over him, and the huge bulge that was ever present in those flattering jeans of his (and if it was a reoccurring fantasy of yours to ride that delicious bulge over his jeans until you both came from just dry humping, again— no one had to know).

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stop thinking about Logan.

Him hovering over you, dog tags swinging in your face as he fucked you hard. Him picking you up and taking you against the nearest surface, lips trapped in an erotic kiss. Him prying your thighs open as he licked up your pussy, tongue dipping into your hole to lap up all the desire pooling, his lips wrapping around the swollen bud and sucking violently. Him holding your face lovingly as his hips thrusted his cock deeper into your throat, groans spilling at the gag you’d let out.

You were split between wanting to sink down onto his cock and rut your swollen nub against the curls that nestled the base of him and stuffing his dick down your throat, gagging around him until he came and coated your throat with his spend.

You didn’t even bother to remove the damp underwear, instead circling the engorged bud over the material— and oh, fuck. The roughness of the lace mixed with the delicious rubbing of your fingers send little moans tumbling from parted lips.

Your unoccupied hand slips under the shirt covering your chest and only settle once your nipple is pinched between determined fingers, rolling the pert bud in tandem with the amorous touch of your hand on your sex.

Pleasure nips at your pelvis, and if you were a little more aware, you’d be embarrassed at how fast you to reaching your peak. But, as it is, your brain is completely hazy with wanton thinking and the only thing on your mind was lessening the ache that pulsates deep within you.

And fuck, you’re so fucking needy for logan that you try to pretend it’s his fingers abusing your clit, his fingers tugging at the sensitive buds of your chest. You want his tongue between your thighs, licking up your desire and sucking your puffy bud into his pretty mouth.

Chest rising rapidly, you feel overwhelmed at the fantasies swirling before your eyes. Its far too much— the mix of your filthy desires and your fingers rubbing your nub have your legs quivering as wetness coats your hand.

“Logan, Logan, Logan—“ The chant of his name mindlessly falls from you, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you, threatening to pull you under those soaring, unforgiving waves of pleasure.

Eyes snap shut, ears ring with white noise, and your hips hump your hand pitifully— you were an absolute, writhing mess against the sheets.

The hair messily strewn around your pillow shifts then from its natural state to a dark red. Even with your eyes shut, you could feel the vermillion light whirling at your fingertips, begging to be released.

Your mutation was not one of subtlety.

Searing bliss coils in your lower tummy, your button tingling with the after effects of the orgasm that crashed into you. You sigh, because even though you just came, you felt far from satisfied. Your body buzzes with sweltering hunger, all the way from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. Even if you fuck yourself dizzy with another orgasm, you knew it won’t satiate your body. Not completely, anyway.

Before you could slip your fingers inside your weeping hole, a loud knock echos through your room.

You still; desperate and hoping that if you ignored the noise, whoever was knocking would simply go away. But when another rhythmic thump comes a few seconds later, you huff.

It’s well past midnight at this point, so who in their right mind would be going about and slamming their fists on your door?

Apparently, you arent moving fast enough when the person has the nerve to knock for a third time, hand a little heavier than before. A growl, tinged with annoyance, slips out as you fling yourself up and off the bed.

You stomp to the door, ready to tell the person on the other side to fuck off.

But when you actually swing open the mahogany door, all the anger simmering beneath your heated skin disappears, along with your breath, as your eyes take in the sight before you.

Logan Howlett stands before you, seemingly angry as a frown etches deep on his face. He glares at you, hazel eyes swarming with exasperation and something unknown.

And little did you know, all of your craziest, fatal fantasies were about to come true.

❥

The moment Logan steps into the mansion, finally back from the complete shit show of a mission Charles had sent him on, he tenses instantly.

His fingers clench into fists, tight enough that the skin turns white. The adamantium claws threaten to poke through his knuckles as he inhales deeply.

Big mistake.

That sweet, sweet scent swarms his heightened senses, the intoxicating smell nearly making him dizzy. His heart speeds up, his stomach flutters, and his cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

Logan could fucking smell you.

It’s a heady aroma thats so completely you, that his body feels deranged, just about ready to march up those steps and break down your door.

He shakes himself loose from the metaphorical shackles of you and begins the journey to his room, trying to block out how delicious and syrupy you smell.

He decides then, as his body finally moves up the steps, that ignoring you is the best option.

But as he gets closer to the hallway he shares with you (just his luck, by the way!), he realizes that plan is a joke.

He feels his control slipping, especially as the heady scent grows stronger, tinged with something else— something erotic and salacious.

Logan curses, his entire being rigid.

You’re aroused, the smell seeping under the crack of the door giving you away instantly.

The idea of you whining as your pussy drips slick between your thighs has him grinding his teeth, fingers flexing and unflexing in an attempt to harness the control back to his body.

Though, it goes out the window entirely as his body is apruptly outside your door, unconsciously drawn to the very essence of you.

There’s a reason Logan has kept carefully crafted distance between the two of you.

The minute he was introduced to you, a new member of the x-men and teacher for the school, he knew he was fucked.

From the first look shared between you, he knew.

A pretty smile had graced your lips, eyes filled with joy as you greeted him, a hand outstretched in his direction as your hair swayed with your movements. In your cute, little outfit (a pretty, white lace dress that kissed the tops of your thighs, matched with baby pink pumps that accentuated your legs), he thought you looked like a princess.

He had stayed frozen, however, because he was assaulted with the fucking smell of you. It was nothing like he’d encountered before, and he’d been around for over a century.

Your scent was so fucking sweet, vanilla and honey permeated his nostrils and right in that moment, he wondered if you tasted as sweet as you smelt.

He knew that he had to keep his distance, otherwise he’d become addicted to you in every sense. If he let himself, he’d worship the very ground you walked on. He couldn’t risk having the walls he’d spent so long building to crumble.

And in an instant, he was angry that his body had reacted this way to someone he’d never even met. He was angry he wanted to press sweet kisses on your face while simultaneously wanting to fuck you on his cock until you screamed his name.

So, with that, he’d made up his mind.

He had simply glared at you, refused to acknowledge your existence and stormed out of Charles’ office. And since that day, he’s tried his hardest to pretend you didn’t exist— if only to ease the way you constantly haunted his every thought.

He pretended it didn’t kill him to see how your face would crumble at his rude behavior, at how he avoided you at all costs. He couldn’t help it, though, because if he treated you how he wanted, like the princess you were, he’d never let you go.

A sudden noise shakes him from the depths of his mind, that carnal, sensual essence growing stronger by the second.

“Logan, Logan, Logan,” your honeyed voice whines, all airy and light.

And it’s almost comical how the telltale snikt! sounds immediately after because what?

What the fuck? He thinks, mind utterly destroyed at the revelation that not only were you seemingly fucking yourself, but you were moaning his name.

Logan growls, low and dangerous as his claws reveal themselves, cutting through the skin of his knuckles. His body feels unnaturally hot, practically set on fire. His cock now uncomfortably hard in his jeans, lustful essence bubbling at his tip and no doubt staining his boxers.

With the wafts of your pretty aroma and sounds of your lewd whimpers, he knows he can’t resist you any longer.

His hand lifts, claws retracting as his heavy fist slams on your door.

And the sight of you, face shiny with a sheen of sweat has him choking on his own saliva.

Tonight was the night his control finally snaps, despite months of work put into avoiding you.

Logan knows his animalistic side is about to be released; he’s going to fucking ruin you.

❥

You gulp, a hand resting on the door frame as you stand frozen because honestly, what the fuck?

You deduce that the universe hates you because why? Why would the man you’d been thinking of while masturbating be right in front of you?

It only dawns on you when Logan’s gaze swipes over your figure that you’re basically naked. Clad only in your blushed, frilly top and the matching underwear, the latter soaked with both your arousal and release.

You shrink beneath his eyes, warmth simmering hot on the apples of your cheeks, and your mouth opens and closes, yet no words follow.

“Uh— Logan, hey!” Your voice is shaky, and whether it’s from the power of your release or the nerves that bumble beneath your skin at the man before you, you couldn’t tell. All you know is that you want the ground to swallow you up whole.

Logan doesn’t respond, just continues to stare at you in a way that you don’t understand. You assume he’s just gotten home from the very long mission, and confusion settles over you as to why he was at your door, especially considering how he badly despises you.

You’re about to voice that exact thought when Logan beats you to speaking.

“I heard you.” His gruff tone is coated in something darker than you’d ever heard before.

For a moment, you’re perplexed, brows furrowing and raising before your eyes go comically wide.

And— oh, oh.

“Can smell you, too.”

Heat licks at your whole body, embarrassment threatening to envelope you entirely. Tears of horror tickle your lash line, because this was probably the most painful moment of your life. Not only does the man hate you, but now he’s heard you moan his name as you came all over your fingers? How pathetic are you?

You open your mouth, an apology heavy on your tongue. You need to say something to quell the panic flooding your body— you’re never going to get over this

Though, before you can even speak, Logan slams his mouth onto yours.

He holds your head softly, a deep contrast to the way his lips melt over yours. A moan slips from your open mouth, the feel of his lips sucking at your bottom lip feels immensely intense and so, so good.

Your arms wrap around his neck, fingertips tangling themselves in the hair at his nape like you’ve wanted to do since the very day you met him.

“Logan—“ you whimper against his mouth, trying and failing to understand what the fuck was happening as he slips his tongue inside your wet, warm mouth. “Logan.”

He ignores you, grunting against your spit, slick lips as his hands travel down your curves, until they find purchase on your ass, gripping hard. A choked gasp spills from you as he suddenly paws at you, picking you up effortlessly in his strong arms.

The idea of him holding you up with no hesitation has your hips shuddering forward without your permission. Vaguely, you feel him move past the threshold of your door, slamming it shut before pressing your body up against the wood.

Logan switches between licking your tongue and sucking meanly at your lips, until they feel full and swollen with his attention. You’re pliant— almost willing to let him do anything he’d like to you.

Almost.

As good as his tongue feels dancing with yours, confusion still settles over your mind. Perhaps this was a dream and if that’s the case, you never want to wake up.

“Wait—wait.” You pull back, the questions swirling inside probing you until it’s impossible to ignore.

“Huh, baby?” Logan groans, teeth pulling at your bottom lip before sucking at the swollen skin.

Babybabybabybabybaby— the pet name clouds your senses for a second, a rush of arousal pooling at your hole. You want to cry at how that simple, simple word makes you feel.

“Stop that.” You mumble, pulling your head back and lips out of his reach.

Logan stares at you, silent but waiting as he waits for you say whatever is on your mind. Frankly, he wants his tongue to be buried deep in your cunt right about now, but, details.

“What is going on?” Breathless, the question settles between you, causing Logan’s brow to raise.

“Well, my tongue was just in your mouth—“ you slap his chest, face turning warm at his bluntness.

“Not that. I’m— why are you here? Why are you kissing me when you can’t stand me?” Your voice is quiet, insecurity present in your tone. Nimble fingers grasp the dog tags that rest on his chest, and you’ve never been grateful for it.

At that, Logan’s face scrunches up, confusion floating around his irises, lips curving downward.

“What are you talking about?” If it wasn’t for the genuineness in his voice, you would’ve smacked his chest again at how clueless he was.

“What do you mean? You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me; you’ve despised my entire existence the moment we met— wait, I can’t even say that because you didn’t even have the decency to greet me!”

Frustration hovers over you heavily, enough to snap you out of the lustful spell Logan often inflicts upon you. You slide down his body, ignoring the quiver of your cunt when you make contact with his jean clad bulge. You push at his chest, needing distance to ensure you actually get your words out and don’t end up back with his tongue down your throat.

“I don’t hate you.” Logan grunts out, staring at you as you pace the wooden floors of the room. Vaguely, he’s paying attention, but he can’t be blamed for the way his eyes focus on the way your ass shifts with each step, the plush skin so inviting as the lace cup each cheek. “What’re you on about?”

Frankly, Logan’s pissing you off. The vague answers are getting on your nerves, enough that you feel yourself snap.

Your hair swiftly turns bright red, a scarlet blossoming over the strands until they coat them completely. Your emotions could never quite be concealed, not with the way your hair would turn different variations of red when you were angry, furious, sad, happy, aroused.

“You’ve been a dick to me, treating me like shit for no reason and now you think you can just waltz in here and kiss me like that? You think you can pretend to want me when we both know that’s not true?”

Balls of fiery, red energy bloom at your fingertips, and though you stand in your pretty pink assortment, you look the part of threatening.

It’s too bad the abrupt display of your mutation, mixed with fiery words, has Logan’s cock jerking with want.

“Sometimes, I question whether or not you’re actually a genius.”

And just like that, you feel the words like a punch to the gut. You’re so mad, so blind by the intense emotions you feel for Logan, that you feel those pesky flames of energy moving up your wrist and forearm, a telltale sign of your anger.

“Fuck you, Logan.” You hiss, your fingers hot with the heat coursing through them.

What pisses you off more, to which your hair and eyes darken to a dangerous maroon, is the fact that Logan wears a faint smirk, watching you with humor as if you aren’t showcasing how pissed you are.

“Are you done yet?” Logan takes a step closer, uncaring of the way your mutation flares furiously at his presence.

“Logan, leave me alone. I don’t need you to sit here and pretend to want me. I don’t need you to make fun of me, either.” Huffing, you glare up at the man before you, who stares back just as pointedly.

You turn around, back facing him as you go to enter the attached bathroom when all at once, you’re spun back around by a hand on your nape, your neck in a delicious tight grip as Logan pulls you into his body, smashing his mouth on yours for the second time tonight.

Your body betrays you, a desperate whimper ebbs out at how fucking good Logan’s lips feel on yours.

His teeth bite down on your top lip, before suckling sweetly to combat the pain flourishing there. You moan, mouth falling open as he messily kisses you. The intoxicating taste of him swarms your tastebuds, his tongue swirling with yours in a way that leaves you dizzy with need.

A string of spit connects between your mouths as Logan pulls away, chuckling meanly when you promptly follow the warm wetness of his lips. A rough hand grips your throat again, tight enough to leave you feeling breathless but delicious enough to make your cunt squeeze around nothing.

“So that’s what you think, princess? That I don’t want you?” Logan’s fingers flex around your throat, gripping at your jaw to capture all of your attention. As if you were anything but than enamored with him. “You think that’s what I’ve been doing, huh?”

You can only stare up at him as your heartbeat rings loudly through your eardrums. A hand goes to tug at his shirt, an attempt to steady yourself, but Logan’s faster as he grabs your wrist.

“Answer me.” He whispers hotly as the hand holding yours captive moves to intertwine your fingers.

The touch of him, the hold on your throat and roughness of his fingers in yours, renders you speechless. You’re so overcome with your emotions that you can only manage to nod. The weight of you goes limp in his hold, silently begging him to do something to satiate the hunger burning every inch of you.

“Words, baby. Got nothing to say now, huh?” He taunts, his grip leaving your neck in favor of thumbing at your lips.

“Yes— I, it’s what it’s seemed like, what you’ve made me feel. Thought you hated me.”

Logan’s nose twitches, no doubt smelling your arousal as it leaks into the material covering you, ruining the lace.

“Couldn’t be more wrong,” He groans, pushing his thumb past the soft of your lips. His knees nearly buckle at the feel of your mouth closing and sucking his thumb, tongue rolling up against the skin as though it was his cock instead. “Shit, baby.”

You whine around his finger, eyes fluttering up at him in a way that has his dick aching for you.

“Fuck, been dreaming about you since the day we met. Been dreaming of you in every way possible.” He admits, a smile tugging at his lips at the way you freeze, lips leaving his thumb with a ‘pop’.

“What?” It’s a whisper, barely audible but he heard it all the same. The butterflies in your stomach are now having a complete rager, bolts of anxiousness kissing your skin.

“Of course.” Logan leanes down, pressing a kiss to your wet lips. “Knew the second I saw you you’d ruin me, so I just… stayed away. I never meant to make you think the worst. M’sorry, honey.”

This was not the way you’d expected tonight to go.

It’s as though all the confusion, anger, and sadness drain from you and, in its place,its full of the tremulous feeling of the admission.

And despite the fact that you’d fucked yourself thinking about him, and he’d heard, you feel incredibly shy. You drop your head to his hard chest, your hands squeezing his own where he holds them.

“I don’t know what to say.” You utter, brain all muddled and no other thoughts come forth as Logan haunts every inch of your mind. You feel like an idiot, even though Logan had acted like a dick for the better part you’d known him.

Logan simply lifts your head, invading your senses as his nose bumps yours.

“You were a dick.” It’s spoken factually, making him huff against your face.

“I know.”

“You could’ve kissed me months ago.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

His quick reply leaves you flushing, but when you nod, his lips are back on yours instantly, in their rightful place.

The kiss is messy; hot, wet, and dirty. Logan groans when you jump up, strong arms catching your thighs in a tight grip. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lose yourself in the thrilling taste of his mouth. You unconsciously start humping him, dragging your drenched panties across his hard dick.

You suck on his tongue before capturing his lip between your teeth, nails dragging down his shoulder blades. A loud, feral growl escapes Logan, and without another thought, he throws your pliant body on the bed.

And at the sight of you, Logan feels like he’s about to come right then and there. In your skimpy outfit, so much plush, soft skin is on display. The hair tumbling from your shoulders has turned a dark cherry color during your kiss, and your hands are tickled with red energy that’s twirling up your arms, not unlike the way vines thread onto an old home.

This time, though, he knows you’re not upset, but instead, aroused.

He can smell the way your slick seeps from your fluttering hole, how it sticks to the skin of your thighs.

And fuck, he wants to sink his face right in front of your pussy and inhale until he’s woozy with the complete perfume of you.

So, that’s exactly what he does.

Your eyes widen as Logan drops onto the floor in front of the bed, yanking your body to the edge. Your lower half is completely in his grip, and he stares at you for a moment, eyes hazy with lust. Then, he’s pulling your pussy all the way up to his nose. The feel of him so close to your puffy lips has you clenching, even more so when he lowers his head and fucking sniffs you.

“Fuck, baby. Been dreaming of this since the minute I saw you. Smells so fuckin’ sweet.” Logan inhales deeply again, smattering messy, open mouthed kisses to the skin of your upper thigh. “You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to throw you over my shoulder, get you alone and eat this pussy.”

“Logan!” You whimper out. The sound is completely feeble but you couldn’t care less, not with the way he’s sucking bruises into your skin. “Please, please.”

Spurred on by your whines, he sinks his canines into the skin, where your thigh meets the lips of your core.

Pain simmers into pleasure as the sting is followed by his tongue. Rosy splotches decorate your upper thighs, a preview of the bruises that will glaze the skin tomorrow. Logan does this until he’s satisfied with how his teeth imprint the skin. It’s as if it’s his way of solidifying that you’re his, like he’s staking his claim with his bruises smattering your thighs.

At some point your hand finds purchase in his hair, pawing at the tufts and tugging his face closer to where you need him most. He groans, the pain at his scalp sending jolts of desire throughout his body.

He sneaks a look up at you, and shit, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Your head is thrown back, sending those rebellious, red strands fluttering around you. Your hips are canting up to his mouth, and the smell of you, mixed with the previous orgasm you’d worked out before he interrupted, sends his senses in overdrive.

He knows he’d tortured you both enough when you can’t stop shivering with need, when his own hips brush against the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, Logan licks a long, wet stripe up your clothed pussy, suctioning around your enlarged clit.

The taste of you, heady, sweet, and so distinctly you, floods his tongue. He knew you’d taste good, but this? Oh, he wanted to drink you up all hours of the day.

With a growl, Logan tuggs the lace aside and loses it. He sucks, licks, and mouthed at your cunt like a man starved. His tongue dips into your hole before licking up and down your slit.

Moans of his name sound around the walls of your room, along with the filthy noise of his lips sucking your swollen button.

You’ve never felt like this before; the way he’s eating you out has your entire body on fire, and if you could see yourself, you’d see how ruby colored lines swirl all around your hands, how your hair practically glows with the intensity of your feelings.

He’d been attracted to you the minute he saw you— but the way you look when your mutation is at work? The way your hair grows shades of intoxicating reds and the way the fiery energy glows from the tips of your fingers to your elbows? Oh, how it fucking wrecks him. He just wants to keep you captive in this bedroom for all of eternity, if only to see you like this all the time.

“Feels so fucking good, fuck.” You’re a blubbering mess, hands tugging Logan’s hair hard, resulting in a moan that vibrates your pussy.

“Mine.” He grunts, and you gasp at the sensation of saliva as he spits directly onto your clit. “My fuckin’ pussy.”

Then, he latches his soft lips around your puffy bud and sucks hard. His dirty words and lucious mouth have your thighs shivering, hips bucking with insatiable need.

Like you’d done when you were alone and thinking about him, whimpers of ‘Logan’ slip past bitten lips as you rut against his face.

“That’s it, baby, say my name. Taste so fuckin’ good.” He humms against the slick, swell of your pussy.

A stream of ‘fuckfuckfuck’ is audible from open lips, forming an ‘o’ as the rush of delicious, hot pleasure pours over you completely.

As you come down, the pleasure fizzles out and overwhelming bursts of overstimulation bubble over you. Logan continues to lap at your wetness, groaning at your taste.

“S’too much, Logan.” Shaky hands grip his brown locks and you try and fail to bring the man away from your throbbing hole. His tongue laps at the taste of you, dipping in as deep as he could to savor every last drop. “Oh, fuck.”

“Taste too fuckin’ sweet, baby. Can’t help it.”

Logan grips tightly at your thighs, cruelly pinching at the flesh as he devours your pretty clit.

He can’t get enough, and seemingly, neither can you, with the way you buck into his warm, slick mouth despite the crushing pleasure. The material of your underwear snaps against you as Logan’s grip loosens, but he still eats you out as though there was no barrier.

His soft lips and dangerous tongue make it difficult to do anything but take the mind-numbing pleasure.

He’s content to stay here; between your gorgeous thighs and ravage your cunt all night, pull orgasms from you until you forget everything except the syllables that make up his name.

Except, the words that come from you have him still against you, his cock jerking and responding immediately to the addictive tilt of your voice.

“Logan— Logan, wanna suck your cock. Please.”

It was as though you were made for him— every inch of you riles him up like no one else has before and he has to take a deep, deep breath to refrain from coming in his jeans like a damn virgin.

With one last lick up your lace covered cunt, his face is suddenly above yours, the sight is lethal. The entirety of his lower face wears your wetness with pride, glistening and gleaming in the lowlight of the room. His eyes look animalistic, the hazel taken over by the black of dilated pupils.

Logan looks at you like he wants to fucking destroy you. You know without a doubt you’d let him.

A sweet kiss is pressed against your lips, a warm caress of his tongue on yours, the musky taste of your pussy causing you to part your thighs further. You whine once more, because you crave the heady taste of his cock; your mouth salivates at the thought of his tip heavy on your tongue.

“Easy, honey. Can smell how bad you want it.”

If you were less intoxicated by lust, you’d be mortified at the knowledge Logan can smell your arousal right now.

“Logan.” Pathetic whimpers and moans against his mouth have him pulling back, gritting his teeth to force himself to get a grip. It doesn’t work, not with the way you’re spread out below him, face pretty with a tiny that vaguely mimics the hue of your top and panties.”Please.”

How is he meant to last when you sound like that? All fucked out from just his tongue alone?

“C’mere’.” Logan mutters, tugging your body all the way up his chest, maneuvering you until your pussy is hovering above his mouth, facing his cock.

Completely fucked out, saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of his bulge, massive even in the confines of jeans.

You’re confused as to why Logan has put you on his chest, but it makes sense when he pulls your thighs down, mouth finding your wet, sopping sex once more.

You cry out, hips jolting at the way his tongue push the fabric away from your puffiness, immediately wrapping around your clit. At the way you were shaking on his face, unmoving besides the subtle thrusts of hips, he stops.

“Lo—“

“Go on then, baby. Suck my cock, just like you wanted.”

And oh, you both feel the slick that follows after those rasped words fill the air.

Only once you undo that damn belt buckle and pull both his jeans and boxers down, just enough to see the way his cock bounced out, wet at the red, swollen tip, does Logan resume licking up your pussy.

Fueled by the return of those talented lips, you lean forward without another thought.

Licking from base to tip, a moan vibrates against his cock as you hum, a taste so distinctly Logan making you feel light and warm. You lick up and down him sloppy, spitting on the tip of him as you slick his dick up, before finally wrapping your lips around him.

“Fuck.” His growl is borderning on feral; his teeth finding purchase on your asscheek and biting, an attempt to ground himself. It only serves to have his hips jump at the feel of you whining on him, sucking him down so fucking good. “Fuck, knew you’d be good with that pretty fuckin’ mouth.”

He’s so focused on the way you’ve started bobbing up and down the length of him, overcome with euphoria at the warmth and wetness as you suck and swirl your tongue, that he’s stopped his attention to your pussy, something he’s only reminded of as you wiggle impatiently over him.

“Sorry, princess, you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy.” He grits out, fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs at the little ‘hmph!’ you let out, pulling off his cock.

Though he can’t see you, he knows there’s a string of spit that spans from your swollen lips to his pulsating cock. He shutters, overwhelmed by you entirely, before burying his face into your weepy cunt.

”Oh! Logan, feels so good!” With a pathetic little whimper, his cock fills your mouth again as you sink down, satisfied with the way his tongue is licking at you.

A blend of moans sound as he wraps his lips around your puffed clit, as you ease his cock into your throat.

Logan’s eating you out in a frenzy, crazed by the tang of you soaking his mouth, chin, and nose. Despite the warmth bubbling in his stomach, he’s determined to make you come on his tongue again.

When thick fingers nudge into your hole unexpectedly, you mewl at the blissful feeling.

Logan’s fingers work steadily inside you in tandem with the way his mouth suckles divinely at your button. You’re an absolute mess— grinding down on his face, riding his digits, gagging as Logan’s hips match the pace of his fingers, grunts vibrating against you as he fucks your throat.

Logan curls his fingers in a way that has you seeing every fucking color of the rainbow. You come, moaning around the base of his cock and rocking back and forth on his fingers and mouth, muffled sobs spilling from your stuffed mouth.

When he feels you shivering on his tongue, overstimulated and sensitive, he pulls away from your center, the soaked fabric of your panties falling back into place once more.

Your mouth is still full of him, lips lazily sucking him down as your body tries to get ahold of the white hot pleasure still coursing through you.

“C’mere, baby.”

It’s a soft whisper against your thigh, but it settles over you, his soothing voice swirling around your shaky body like a warm blanket. Letting his cock fall from your lips, you scramble as fast as your body allows before you find yourself straddling Logan, staring down at the man with cloudy, wet eyes.

And maybe Logan is sick— because the sight of tears spilling over your cheeks has his cock unbelievably hard, a growl threatening to tumble out at the way your pretty, crimson hair spills over your shoulders.

Still, he wants to make sure you’re okay.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Logan watches at the way a small smile graces your features, even as tears continue to glisten your lash line. “You okay?���

“Nothing's wrong, just feel so good.” Your voice is a little hoarse, no doubt from the way his dick was fucking your whiny mouth. Your voice is still the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, those few words going straight to his dick.

Logan feels his own lips tug upwards as you speak. Even though he’s fucked you silly and stolen two orgasms, he tenses with desire as he notes the want dancing in your irises.

“Good.”

“Mhmm.”

There’s a beat of silence, a moment where hungry eyes lock in on one another, sensual energy threatening to burst.

Then, in a flash, lips are locked and tongues whirl together familiarly. It’s a hot, lewd kiss filled to the brim with desire— the passion almost too much with how it lights up every inch of your bodies, a fire threatening to spread.

Neither of you are sure who moved first— but it doesn’t matter because the way Logan’s hand wraps around your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail in a tight grip, steals your attention.

If someone were to see the two of you, they would see how desperate and needy you both were.

You’re kissing Logan’s top lip, biting before soothing the sting with a sweet, soft suck. Your thighs are spread over his own entirely and your position has your cunt settling over his cock nicely. Logan’s free hand grips the skin of your ass tight, guiding as you grind against him, the soaked panties catching on the tip of him with each thrust. The fingers tangled in your hair are unforgiving, tugging harshly as Logan grunts into your open mouth.

You’re both a mess of passion and lust— and your body thrums with the idea of his cock inside you.

“Such a good girl, that’s it. Fuck—“ Logan nearly whines, the feel of your wetness on his bulge has him trapping your lips in another all consuming kiss.

Your hands, lit up with energy, find purchase in his pretty hair, yanking as he kisses you vulgar, because everything is somehow too much and not enough.

“Logan— need you. Need you so bad, baby.”

Logan wants to eat you up entirely— somehow you’re still not satiated, rubbing your slick all over his lap and begging him for more. If he was a better man, he would’ve fucked you already. As it is, he likes it a little too much hearing you beg for him.

“Shhh, you got me, honey. I’m right here.”

“Fuck me, please. Need you inside, Logan.”

There’s tears in your eyes again, ready to spill over if the ache between your thighs isn’t soothed in the next five minutes. You’re clinging to him, hips stuttering because it’s just not enough and you both know it.

“My poor baby.” He sighs, the words somehow a mix of condescending and genuine and it makes you cry out. “So needy, huh?”

“Just for you.” The way you say it, it’s a message you both understand— you need him in every way possible, not just sexually.

He wonders if you know just how badly he needs you, especially now that he’s got a taste of you.

“I’m yours—“ you start, but it’s cut off by the squeak you emit when you’re suddenly flipped over, Logan’s muscular form hovering over you, his dog tags swinging between you.

“You’re mine.” It’s not a question, but a statement and it sends a thrill over you.

“Yours.” You’re nodding, eyes wide and so fucking pretty that it makes Logan squeeze his hands, the metal of his claws threatening to break through the skin.

He pulls his shirt off then, pride filling his chest at the way your eyes glaze over, a lip taken between your teeth as you stare at the vein that leads to his cock, which is pulsing with the promise of release.

He doesn’t comment on your lustful eyes, instead tracing his fingers down your body, until he reaches the hem of your baby pink lace. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination but Logan might break something if he doesn’t see your tits in all their glory.

You get the message, leaning up and slowly pulling the fabric from your chest, your breasts and midsection on full display. If he hadn’t already eaten you out twice, you would’ve moved to cover your taut nipples. Instead, you grip the chain of his necklace and pull him back down with you, sighing when you’re chest to chest.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” He says, pecking your lips once, licking a stripe down your throat. Wetness coats both nipples as his tongue swirls over them. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to have you under me?”

You moan, nails digging into his shoulder blades at the fluttery feeling his lips bring, deep enough to elicit blood from his skin. Logan groans, head tipping back as his hips thrust down suddenly, the tip of his cock ramming into your clit.

“Fuck, Logan.” Your hands span the expanse of his back, scratching each time he bumps your button just right. His jeans are still on, resting just below his thighs and something about the way he couldn’t even get up to properly take them off makes you shudder.

He’s rutting against you now, dick rubbing filthy over your panties and it dawns on you then that he hasn’t come yet, too preoccupied with taking care of you.

Determined, you slide one hand onto his asscheek, pushing him further into you, while your other grips his chin, pulling his mouth to yours in a slick, open-mouth kiss.

“C’mon Logan, fuck me, please.”

Logan turns into something animalistic then— flipping you over without warning, caging you between his arms. Your gasp is audible as he yanks your wet lace to the side, before thrusting forward, and fucks his cock into you with one thrust.

“Oh my god, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—“ the feel of Logan finally inside you had you absolutely fucking drunk on the feel of him.

“Tryin’ to, baby.” He grits, arms flexing beside your head, fingers intertwining with yours as he sinks into you, inch by inch, until you were filled to the brim.

Logan’s body covers yours, lips pressing all over your shoulder blades to soothe the little whines you let out at how fucking full you felt. It’s everything you want and more— you want to memorize the feel of him, every ridge and vein as he bottoms out.

“Baby,” he grunts, fingers flexing with yours as he stays still, for your sake. “So fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ wet.”

And it was true— despite the fact that he’s huge, he slipped in easily because of the mess you created, a slick mix of your come and desire that seeps from you.

“Logan, fuck me, please.” You ask so sweetly, as if you weren’t impaled by his cock right now.

With that, he slips out of you slowly, before fucking into you hard, deep. Then, he fucking ravishes you— creating a steady, fast paced rhythm and fucking you dumb with his cock.

You’re a whiny mess. Your hair grows darker, hands glittering between his grip each time he slams into you, each time your cunt squeezes around him.

Completely cock drunk, your back arches, ass up and hips slamming back against his with your cheek pressing into the mattress as you sob.

You’re so fucking needy that his own thighs are wet with your desire— he growls at the sight, fucking you even faster.

“You’re mine. Have been since you came here.” Logan growled, releasing your fingers in favor of gripping your hair and pulling you up until you were pressed into his chest. “My fuckin’ girl.”

“Yours!” You cry, tears rolling down your face. Your entire body jolts with pleasure, and you feel like you couldn’t breathe, not with how euphoria threatens to smother you. “M’so close!”

“I know, honey, I know. Can feel you fuckin’ squeezin’ around me.“ Logan moans out, pushing you back down into the mattress and finding purchase on your hips, pulling you back hard. “Gonna come all over me?”

You don’t answer, instead crying out as you feel a sharp flash of pain on your asscheek, Logan’s hand swift and quick. The pain mixes into pleasure when he rubs at the red skin, pressing sweet kisses on your back.

He wishes you could see yourself right now; maybe then you would understand why he was so intoxicated by you.

Your pretty body is bent over, ass up and face in the sheets as whimpers seep out. The lace that drove him crazy is yanked to the side, grazing his cock each time he drove deeper inside you. You’re so beautiful like this, he wants to keep you forever.

Sweet, little ‘uh,uh’s’ fill Logan’s ears as he speeds up, pulling you back up once more against his chest. He wants to be as close as fucking possible, the feel of your skin on his almost searing.

You turn your head back, lips seeking out his own. He kisses you, sucking at your lips as he continues to fuck you vigorously.

The fluttery feeling of your cunt squeezing around him suddenly sends him over the edge— low groans falling in your open mouth as hot, searing spurts of come coat your walls.

Knowing that Logan had lost it, finally giving into the temptation like you’d been doing all night, has you whining as your own orgasm surrounds your entire being.

“Baby—“ Logan thrusts shallowly, riding your orgasms out as long as he could; if he could, he’d never leave this feeling behind. Seemingly, you agreed as your nails dig into his forearms that hold you up, eyes squeezing shut at the overpowering bliss tingling everywhere. “I got you, it’s okay.”

“Logan, fuck!” It comes out as a huff, head against his sweaty neck, body completely limp in his hold.

You’d never been so incredibly sex-dazed in your life. From this moment onward, Logan has ruined you for anyone else.

Though, you hope there isn’t anyone else.

Logan kisses your head before untangling from you; a smirk dancing across his usually gruff features at the little whine let out as he pulls out. He gently rolls you onto your back, laying your head tenderly on the pillows. It was such a stark difference to the rough way he’d fucked you minutes prior, but butterflies flutter around your stomach all the same.

You watch his eyes trail lower, landing on the mess between your thighs.

Logan is mesmerized by the sight; your pussy is destroyed , so wet with his come seeping out of your hole. Mindlessly, he lowers himself until heieye level with your sex. Sans any warning, his fingers are thrusted back inside.

He ignores your hiss in favor of trying to push his come back inside, to keep you full of him. His eyes meet yours, watching as your chest rises as you observe him. There’s a glint in your eye that has his heart stuttering.

“I want to kiss you.” You whisper, soft and a little bashful, as if he didn’t have his fingers inside you. You look too fucking perfect, hair returning to its original color, eyes cloudy with unspoken words, a smile gracing your face.

How could he deny you when you looked like that?

Logan kisses your clit once, enjoying the way you jump before removing his fingers.

With those same digits, he sticks them in his mouth, sucking the flavor of you both and humming. He could hear the way your heart picked up at his actions. He releases them with a loud ‘pop’, before finally coming back to you.

He hovers over you, and like you’d done earlier, soft hands pull at the chain until his lips melt with yours in a soft kiss. Logan pulls back, resting his head on yours, eyes connecting with yours.

“Hi.” You giggle then, nose bumping his in the proximity.

“Hi, baby.” Logan kisses your lips once more, before rolling beside you. You would’ve whined at him if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you onto his chest.

With your limbs tangled, a kiss pressed to your forehead, you think this could be heaven and if so, you never wanted to leave.

It was quiet for a moment— the two of you content to listen to one another’s heartbeat, the breaths that fall from lips. Then, you break the silence, because of course you do.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“Just so you know, I’m expecting you to take me out before you get me like this again.” You mutter against his slick chest, where your head rests as you wrap yourself around the man like a koala.

A deep laugh fills the room, chest rumbling because what the fuck?

He’s fucked you, with his mouth and cock, and now you’re laying on him as his come seeps out of you and you’re demanding him to take you out?

He was going to in the first place, but he thinks it’s cute you decided for him.

Logan may be a man that’s been alive for almost two centuries, practically immortal, but it’s completely possible you’ll be the death of him.

˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚ fin

tags: @strangererotica @cevansbaby-dove @morganyourone @asiancupid

[januaryembrs]

Hi!! Could I please order a spicy hot chocolate for Spencer Reid? (Like you know, the ones that people put cayenne pepper in?!)

You’re an incredible writer and human!

BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND | Spencer Reid x Reader

description: your brother brings home his dorky college classmate, Spencer

length: 2.5k

warnings: spicy, SMUT (omg Em attempts smut and even then its pretty tame but why are my hands shaking), minors dni! heed my warnings this is not for you minors!! nipple stuff, mens genitalia mentioned, Spencer and reader get horny for one another oop. I really hope this is okay I've literally written smut once and even then I second guessed myself so much. SEASON ONE GLASSES SPENCE. BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND SPENCE. smut under the cut.

You felt eyes on you without even having to turn where you were stuffing laundry into the washing machine, your face sweaty with the midsummer heat. 

“Jesus Christ, you look like Hot Topic threw up on you,” Your brother’s voice resounded as two sets of footsteps entered the kitchen, and someone cleared their throat where you were bent over, denim shorts riding high up your ass cheeks. 

Flicking a look over your shoulder, you pulled the spoon full of peanut butter out of your mouth, yanking a headphone out of your ear to address him. 

“Don’t shit your pants, dickbrains, it’s all I have until my clothes are clean,” You snapped at Ryan, tongue dancing with the creamy, sweet spread, and your eyes dropped to his left where his best friend fussed over his sweater cuffs, a duffel bag on his back, and your eyes softened as you saw Spencer looking flushed in your kitchen, “Hi, Spence,” 

“Hi,” He peeped shyly, and you smiled widely at the obscenely tall boy who had been to your house a number of times. Ryan had met Spencer on the first day of college, or at least his first day. For Spencer, it had been six years already, his third doctorate well underway, and the two had quickly bonded over something dumb and nerdy you’d never bothered to take note of. You clicked the dials on the machine to a low setting, pouring some detergent into the drum and pressing the ‘Start’ button.

“You guys doing homework?” You asked, fixing where your shirt slouched off the side of your shoulder, exposing your lack of bra and baring your collar bones, and you were quick to catch the way Spencer’s hazel hues fell there with something fleeting and guilty in his expression. 

“We’re not twelve years old calculating how many watermelons Sally and Jess have all together,” Your brother scoffed, screwing his lips in annoyance, just as much as any twenty year old pumped full of hormones and energy drinks. “We’re writing a paper on thermodynamics; Spencer’s staying over tonight,”

Rolling your eyes at his know it all snark, you pulled a face back at him, despite the fact you were one year older. You looked to his left where Spencer stuffed his hands in his pockets, his cheeks pink as he caught himself like a fly in honey in one of your usual arguments. 

“Do you want a drink, Spence?” You offer, ignoring Ryan’s shitty attitude, heading over to the fridge and swinging the door open, your fathers bottles of beer clinking together where they lay flat on the top shelf. 

“Soda would be great, please,” Spencer murmured, trying not to stare as you leaned over, those little, black hot pants skirting up so far his face felt feverish and he forced himself to look at the linoleum tiles in a scrambled attempt to control his thoughts. 

He felt like a kid again, with a stupid little crush on the older girl who batted her lashes and called him Spence and smiled at him like you knew exactly how you made that big brain of his turn to mush when you spoke to him. 

Handing him a Coke, he tried to ignore the way your cold fingers brushed and avoided your gaze at all cost.

“Thankyou,” He said, his voice cracking in the very middle of it in a way that made him feel like a total loser, and he heard you giggle, his neck growing a prickling hot. 

Before you could say much else, his friend grabbed his sleeve, tugging him in the direction of his room where you couldn’t bother them anymore. 

Spencer was thinking about your laugh the entire afternoon, until they gave up writing and turned to watching Star Trek, the evening air quickly turning humid and dark, and he begged the tightness in his boxers to leave him be for even just a second.

Only, he found no such luck, tortured by the thought of you being just a single flight of stairs away from him. 

–

You were doing dishes by the time you heard him again. Assuming it was Ryan, you made no effort to greet him since it usually was only responded with a grunt or cuss anyways. 

Except you could tell by the footsteps that were too careful, the presence that was too soft, even by the way he cleared his throat nervously, that it certainly wasn’t your obnoxious brother who had come into the kitchen for a midnight snack. 

Whirling around at the sound, Spencer stood on the other side of the dining table you'd been sitting at just a few hours ago eating pasta and listening to your mom recounting her stressful day in the office. Thin, framed glasses perched on his nose, ones you’d never seen before, glinting in the light from the oven as he blinked at you behind the lenses. 

“Spence,” You said with a tired smile, eyes dropping to his shirt and plaid trousers, “Cute jammies,” 

He paused for a second, looking down to the grey Doctor Who set, a diagram of the TARDIS splayed across his chest, and he blanked when he tried to figure out if you were kidding or being genuine, “Thank you. You too,”

He didn’t know why he’d said it, maybe because that’s just what you do when someone is being kind, except only then did he look at what you were wearing, and impossibly so it was even more scandalous than what you were wearing earlier. 

A tank top, if he could even call it that with how far it rode up, and a lacy pair of blush underwear, a pretty white bow resting just below your belly button. 

Following his gaze as it devoured your exposed appendage, you grinned at him devilishly, “Sorry, it gets pretty hot in my room at night,” 

“Y-yeah I can imagine you-you’re hot,” He stammered, realising what he said when you raised a brow at him, “B-because you’re a floor up, I mean, and heat rises because hot air has a lower particle density than cool air although some physicians believe-”

“I know what you meant, Spence,” You said with a smirk, moving around the table to stand in front of him, your feet padding softly against the cold floor. Looking up at him with a tilted head, you inspected the frames you realised were a mahogany brown now you were close enough to see them properly, you peered past the lenses and right into where his doe eyes stared back at you, skittish and flustered, “Are these new?” 

Spencer licked his lips nervously, “I used to wear glasses when I was a kid but now I wear contacts,” He said, rubbing clammy palms over his trousers. He could smell your detergent from here, the same one he’d seen you pour over your laundry just a few hours earlier, ‘Blossom breeze’ or something girly and sweet and floral like that. He didn’t know the brand, but it was entirely intoxicating, except he suspected it had nothing to do with the liquid and more to do with the fact he could see your nipples pressing against your shirt when you stood so close to him, “Girls don’t really think scrawny guys in glasses are.. hot,” 

You sniggered, though your brows furrowed the slightest bit, “Who told you that?” 

“Lot’s of girls, more than once actually, it’s just kind of common knowledge,” He fumbled, his chest pricking with nerves when your fingers moved up to grip his waist gently, thumbs danced down his hip bones, the gentle touch alone stirring his cock into a painfully hard stance. He gulped, the sound loud in the sombre twilight of the kitchen, and for a guy who had aced every single test he’d ever taken, who played chess against himself for fun to guess his next five moves, Spencer had no clue where he existed outside of your body so close to his, looking at him like he was a puppy begging for treats if he gave paw. 

“I think those girls are absolute boneheads if they can’t see how pretty you are, Spence,” You said his name as if it was the only one that had ever mattered, and he couldn’t help how his chest swelled at the sentiment, even if he wasn’t so off guard as to actually believe that. You’d always had this way of making people feel special, he saw it at your family barbecue last Summer, when your cousins flocked around you like you were their Queen Bee, how you seemed to make waiters and waitresses alike flush under your preening smiles and 'please's and 'thankyou's whenever you took Spencer and your brother out for dinner. 

“T-thankyou,” He replied after a thick breath, his chest rattling as you pulled him towards your calm figure, and he let himself be guided like he were leashed, “Y-you’re pretty too,”

He wanted to tell you so much more than that, that you were beautiful like all the popular girls at school were, only humble and kind like the golden part of you glittered inside too, except before he could even attempt at expanding on his three pathetic little words he’d stammered through laboured breaths, he effectively got fully disconnected from his brain when you leaned in towards his face and brushed your nose against his, testing the waters. 

Your gaze trailed up to his innocently, so close he could feel your minty breaths fanning over his bottom lip, and he guessed you’d already brushed your teeth ready for bed. 

“You really think I’m pretty, Spence?” You asked naively, even if he knew it was just because he forgot how to speak when you were too forward, as if you were trying not to spook a deer. He nodded quickly, his eyes zeroing on where your mouth was mere centimetres away from him, one single shiver in his spine and he would be kissing you, and like you’d heard his train of thought, you pushed your lips against his softly, his body jolting with an electric shock. 

There could be sirens surrounding the entire house and he would be none the wiser, because in mere seconds his blood was rushing through his eardrums, sounding like radio static, and it was only when he felt the vibration of it against his mouth did he realise you’d whined, and his hands sprung to life, cupping both your cheeks and tugging you closer to his face as if he was clinging onto every second of the feeling. 

Spencer groaned, a sound he didn’t even realise he was going to make until he felt your fingers squeeze him lightly, and he snapped back into his body like a hair tie slinging him back into a world where the girl he’d had a teeny, tiny, maddening crush on for months was making out with him in her kitchen. 

“‘Gotta be quiet, baby, my parents are asleep,” You said, breathless as you ripped yourself away from him, despite the fact he was insistently pulling you back towards his mouth, and you smiled up at his urgency, “You ever kissed a girl before, Spence?”  

He sighed, and you’d never counted him as sassy until you heard it, almost spoiled and bratty now you’d given him a taste of heaven and held it back from him for the sake of small talk.

“Once, at recess in fifth grade, but it wasn’t like this,” He said, yanking you back towards him ravenously, and you let him devour your lips again, grinning into his desperate mouth, “Never been like this,” 

You weren’t sure whether he meant himself or what was likely a peck on the lips between kids as a dare, but you didn’t think too hard about it, as you slotted yourself back into his rough hands, calluses on the insides of his right fingertips from the years holding a pen so hard he might just break it. He felt your mouth open, and he followed your lead, your tongue feathering out with a shyness you showed nowhere else. And it was like every single statistic and number and fact about sharing saliva flew out of his head with wanton need as he dove right for the source, the tip of his tongue meeting yours with a warm nudge and he heard you mewl in pleasure. 

Spencer didn’t know what had come over him. Only moments ago he’d been too nervous to even look at you in fear of stumbled around a few syllables and calling them words. Yet here he was, his glasses slipping down his nose and pressing against the bridge of your own, your chest pressed so close to him he could feel your nipples pebbling against his TARDIS shirt, and it was like it was then he remembered you had no bottoms on except your panties. 

He hooked a hand underneath one of your legs, hiking it up to his waist and pushing even further up against you, the sudden movement making you gasp, your lower back hitting the dining table as his pubic bone ground against the ball of nerves that had been aching since you caught him shuffling around your kitchen in his damn Doctor Who pyjamas. 

Sliding his broad fingers up, your skin spread into gooseflesh and it was your turn to become putty under his touch as he bravely grabbed a handful of your arse, though his touch was still light and uncertain if he was crossing any boundaries. The change in position meant you felt yourself leaning back, your spine spreading out like a cat in warm sunlight, and he was quick to accommodate you, ever eager to please as Spencer was, moving away from the warmth of your mouth and kissing his way down to your pulse, the feeling of it making both of you hum on quietened tones in pleasure. 

“Why have we never done this before?” You asked breathlessly, your chest rising frantically as you gasped for air, a hushed moan bleeding into your airways. 

Spencer held you upright with one of his long arms, thought his mouth devoured a path over your collar bones, heading right for where your breasts lay in wait, and he didn’t even bother trying to remove your top as he kissed over your nipple with hungry, warm lips. 

“I dunno, probably because Ryan wouldn’t be too happy with me trying to fuck his sister while he’s eating dinner,” Spencer said without thinking, his tone sharp and witty as ever, like the noises you were making and the desperation in your touch seemed to rewire his thoughts into something overindulged. 

But you laughed, loud enough you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from waking up the whole house, because you had no idea how you’d explain to them why you and Spencer had ended up half sprawled on the dining table as he practically fixed himself onto every inch of you. And without warning he chuckled too, the vibration blowing over your skin that was already humming with excitement. 

“Do you think we could do this more often?” You asked, raising yourself up onto your elbows as his hands spread over your stomach, riding your top up just the smallest bit so he could kiss over your stomach, his pupils blown out into planets behind his glasses, his cheeks tinged raspberry red, his gaze drunken like he was in some sort of sugar rush only ready to stop when he’d gotten his fill, though at the rate he was going Spencer thought that day might not actually come. 

You were a drug, a nectar he’d never come close to, and he felt like every kiss to your skin only made that well in his stomach dig deeper and deeper, possibly never running dry as his every thought overflowed with drops of you, and your smell, and your taste, and your tongue. 

Missing your lips, he moved back up to your face, crashing his mouth back onto yours as your fingers raked through his hair, the sensation jolting his rod like appendage into you own pelvis, the two of you shivering with the feeling of it. 

“I think we can arrange that,” He murmured, and you grinned up at him devilishly as he fiddled with the cotton hem of your underwear nervously, his boldness wearing off as he saw that glint in your eyes that spelled trouble. But he understood that nervous and excitement felt so similar it was easy to mistake one for the other, perhaps even mesh both together at the same time, and the logical explanation for his clammy hands and racing heart seemed to soothe him the slightest bit. 

He loved sleepovers at your house.

[vex-jb]

Pick a pile sex with ur next partner💋

~hey there once your done check out the poll all the way at the bottom for a special treattttt !! ~

Pile 1 🐸

Pile 2 🐝

Pile 3 🎤

Scroll down and find ur pile before reading u can also choose by the gif

Pile 1 — King of Wands ~ 🐸

Next sexual partner

~ This could be someone that u already know specifically from the past 😭 this individual could have strong air or be a fire sign individual or air/water individual. This person if very much coming off large and in charge they could have a serious look or be intimidating they could have a piercing stare colored eyes. This person is very smart, Book smart. Tho they come of very fierce the way they approach u or feel towards u is more softer. U may have a special place in their heart or there’s potential for that to grow. This person wants to come back in ur life and have a new beginning. This person is feeling confident coming towards u. They may come towards u with an attitude of being more open minded carefree they feel pretty optimistic that things will go the way their planning 😂

How will sex be between u two?

lol I get when u guys get intimate with one another someone may finish quickly which will make the other party feel very disappointed 😂 the person who was left without finishing may want to go for another round almost begging enticing this person to start again. They may like seeing u beg or want them to go again seeing u want more from them, desiring them in that way will make them feel pretty good —in a cocky way lol. There will be another round or 2 this person will gather themself to give it too u better and I’m seeing the 2nd round will be wayy better both of u will be meshing will equally pleasing one another. I see some strong penetration (this person could be pretty girthy or u may see them as being big ) both of u will end up feeling equally pleased. At the end u two could feel like commitment would be a good idea bc of the strong intimacy u share and how it went so well or someone may think I’m not meeting anyone else fuck u like that 😭

**********finishing quick, couple rounds, thick/girthy, commitment, open minded, begging submission, blow job, mentally and physically finishing *******************✨✨✨

Pile 2~The Tower 🐝

Who will number 2 be having sex with?

~ 2 energies pick which one resonates

Group A: U guys have history with this person a lot of on and off again energy. Either this is or will be a fwb or situationship(3rdparty) .This situation is very emotionally charged and lot of cups are coming out. U could be dealing with a water sign specifically Pisces, Gemini, Aquarius Libra or cap.

Group B: this is someone who could have struggled with letting go of someone who they were married too or had a long term relationship with there could have been back and fourth but it only left them feeling worst not wanting to let go of what they invested in or the potential. This person could have been abandoned due to betrayal hence the 3rd party. This person could have been struggling to listen to themselves where they know that relationship isnt meant to last … you could potentially be there 2 of cups a new healthy relationship that the universe is giving to them. But what will they choose idk this isn’t a relationship reading but they will either grow tf up and not settle or be a loser and low ball themself 🙄

Okay the sex part 😁✨✨✨✨✨

The intimacy between the two of you could feel very comfortable familiar 🩵 both of you will feel safe with each other you guys will find each other very attractive in bed A LOT of sexual chemistry. I see kissing will be HOT and heavy u guys will be making outtt, tongue down each others throats lip biting sucking.

I see the masculine taking the lead at first and then u both will be equally pouring into each other 👀 the intimacy will feel very passionate. Strong indication of potential pregnancy coming out. **When sex is hot, emotionally charged, wild intense that’s when babies come into the picture 😳 so be very careful if ur not ready. Like im being so serious that ONE position and POOFF✨🌈🤰🏽single mother 😂 jk (dark humor) but anyways back to the sex reading. I see u both reciprocating so no one is going to feel unfinished. I see u guys wrapping up the session with a lot of light hearted energy laughing smiling enjoying each others company.

*********** water parks *cough cough* squirting, lots of liquid, healing, fun, releasing, body rhythm, music, could have sex in a unique place like not at home maybe outside next to the water beach mid day, spontaneous ************

Shieeeet ik the beginning didn’t sound good but id take the chance for some bomb sex 😭 stop it’s dry season in my life 🤧

Pile 3~ The high priestess 🎤

person could be a fixed sign or pisces. They will be self assured/ confident emotionally content within themself. They could be popular this person likes new experiences. An open minded individual in the sense that if there’s potential for a good outcome for them they will pursue it. So they weigh the profits before they run towards the next venture. This person sounds very business oriented lol. Once they make up their mind they charge after it. Very sharp minded could be older than u or mature for their age. An old soul?

What’s the intimacy gunna be like?

This person could set the tone before they act. They may like to show out a bit to try and impress u. U may find them very interesting they are showing up self controlled experienced and a giver pleaser sex wise. 😜🤸🏽‍♀️ this person could be quite larger than u like it’s giving ur petite and they are manly. This person may be a bit too self controlled not letting their fantasies get the best of them in bed. U may think this person isn’t turned on by u or find u devouring even though u know u have sex appeal but they think that attitude is the best way to keep u interested in them it’s just a mask 🙄 sex will be pretty smooth it’s giving traditional lol 😂😂😂 I think this person sees u as lavish someone to treat in a eloquent way ( I don’t know what other way to describe it but they don’t want to treat u like a whore lol) I see they see u as their ideal marriage partner like physically aesthetically meet there criteria. It may start a bit boring like ur trying to figure them out or bring down the persona but towards the end I see a passionate make out session. I think the masculine will get riled up and u may see a part of their hidden side slip through but they will reel it back in. Both of u will feel better at the end then the beginning.

*********** they like ur attitude they may like when ur disinterested they like the chase they like knowing they can break down those walls to be the man that brings out ur feminine**************

That’s all I got quick short too the point maybe I’ll make more explicit lengthy detailed pick a card piles in the future ??

~~~Comment Below !!! What would u like me to include or do better for future readings so u guys can enjoy ? 💕~~

[love-of-the-red-star]

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

Chapter One: Fuck it we ball!!

(Series)

Obligatory chapter warning: Violence (there’s a gunfight), description of blood, reader being a liiiitle dubious.

Maybe you shouldn’t have wondered how the crew even knew.

You had asked in the “acktually☝️” type of way— in layman’s terms, rather awkwardly.

Who could blame you? You were stuck in space with no human interaction for god knows how long with only your fellow eldritch horror looking gods that occasionally passed by for company.

Your brain may be incredibly big and fast now, but it didn’t mean you weren’t any less awkward. (Though you’re pretty sure you speak better than most of the Aeons— however, that’s just your opinion.)

“We could feel your energy.” That’s what Himeko said. “Well— our system did.”

“Okay?” You blinked, but then went cold when you realized having your energy levels out as Himeko told you meant that you were basically walking out with your fly open.

“The influx of energy isn’t allowing us to jump.” She added, and you understood now, it was like coming across a stellaron infested planet, except it’s worse because it’s God— one of them anyways, and not just some random piece of space cancer.

“Sorry.” You blurted out, then had an idea, wondering if that one bit in the show you watched in your world would help. “Can I get out of the train and excuse me for a bit? I’ll be right back, I’ll just uhhh… suck the energy in, if you know what I mean.” You pointed to the open door, and the stop that thankfully no one is occupying.

“Go ahead.” Himeko nodded, and you made your way out.

You took a deep breath and exhaled, then looked side to side to see if anyone is going to see what you’re pretty sure is going to be an embarrassing looking spectacle. Seeing as the coast was clear, you took a deep breath again and scrunched your face in concentration, adapting a kamekameha pose like Veldora had.

You then grasped at your energy that you now saw around you and crumpled it, until it became smaller and smaller to just enough to thankfully pass like a normal Joe.

A Joe that can fight, but a normal Joe regardless.

What you did was just basically return some of the energy you’ve poured into this projection back to your main body, not exactly holding it in. You’ve managed to succeed, thankfully without having to accidentally explode a planet.

You weren’t Nanook, and you weren’t going to plan becoming a 2.0 very soon. And now that you thought about it, you’re pretty sure they hate you— but when do they not hate anything enough to not destroy it?

Brushing your thoughts away, you returned to the parlor car, and Himeko blinked in surprise. “That was quick.” She told you.

“I know.” You said. “It was surprisingly easy.”

If she had seen what the hell you just did outside, she wasn’t going to say anything about it.

(You’re pretty sure she saw that, much to you wanting to shrivel on the inside like a raisin.)

“So uhh… anything else?”

Himself shook her head, then the parlor car door closed.

It was only the start of your journey.

————————

Seeing the stars through the window of the express had been a surreal experience. It’s strange, to be inside of a room— you almost forgot how it felt like to step on the ground or not smelling the radioactive scent of space. The parlor car smelled nice, nostalgic almost.

It was funny that you only took notice of that now when you were left to your thoughts in your projected body.

“I can’t believe I’m missing the smell of air freshener of all things.” You mumbled as you watched Pompom sweep the floors of the parlor.

Welt and Himeko were talking about something behind closed doors— probably about you. Honestly you can’t fault them for that, because even though you’d like to deny it, you were in fact a big deal.

A very big deal. An elephant, an obnoxious colored elephant, in the room.

You just hoped they’d come to a conclusion to give you time just enough to prove you mean well. And you really do mean well.

In the next 168 hours (god, that was such a weird way to call an entire week), you were assigned a room of your own.

In the game, you recalled there were only four rooms, but in this one, in reality, there were more. It would make sense, you thought as you observed your own room that’s still rather barren of decoration.

You could just think of what to place into it later.

Another 168 hours go by and you’re entertained by either the little music player in the parlor, or helping Pompom. You spoke to Himeko and Welt from time to time, but it felt Ike you were a bit… out of place. Now that you thought about it you realized they were far more mature than you were, and it wouldn’t be lie either.

While it was nice to have something close to a parental figure, you knew they couldn’t entertain whatever it was that you craved. You realized you’re surprisingly a bit more childish than you thought, especially for a cosmic entity.

You were starting to feel a little antsy though, and decided you’d go back to your main body for a while to fuck around— yeah, you should do that, you thought as you nodded to yourself.

You stood from your bed and made your way out of your room to find either Himeko or Welt so you could tell them you’d be leaving for a while.

Pompom seemed to pout a little at the thought of your absence when you spoke to them about it, but their emotions were quelled when you had mentioned promising them trinkets.

You bid the three farewell, and your body eventually dissipated.

———————

“What the fork are you looking at me for, darlin’?”

Oh wow. You thought as you blinked. “Nothing, I just thought you look rather… interesting, that’s all.” You said. You meant to say handsome, but you didn’t want to be creepy to the cyborg as much as you loved him. It was a little embarrassing to admit now, considering that he was just as real as you were, that you were probably his biggest fan.

“What brings someone like you in a place like this? You don’t fudging look like you’d be into the shady business, unless…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, taking a swing of the strong smelling shot of whiskey handed over to him by the bartender.

How did you even end up here? Simple, you got bored in the parlor car.

You left the express, went to your body, chose a random planet and saw Boothill and decided to make an appearance because why not? It wasn’t exactly everyday you would get to interact with a cool cowboy (probably the coolest space cowboy), so you made the spontaneous decision to simply appear as you were in this little.. town and entered the tavern.

“I got bored.” You said, swirling the drink on your hand that would undoubtedly send you to a hospital for alcohol poisoning had you been an actual human. You took an entire gulp and made a face afterwards. Boothill laughed.

“How do you even enjoy this? It tastes like battery acid and fire.” You grimaced, but you took more sips of the drink despite your own comment. “Anyways, I was bored, and I saw this place and thought: hmmm why not? It feels weirdly liberating in a way.” You confessed.

“Not that much of a stickler for rules despite being dressed like a goody two shoes huh? That’s fudging funny.” The glass clinked, and Boothill’s attention still remained on you funnily enough.

“I’m not nice.” You frowned. “I just dress like this because it’s nice to pretend to be a pretentious bastard sometimes. Plus, it’s cute.” You bristle, and he only smiled at you.

You found that Boothill’s surprisingly way too easy to speak to.

“Sure, sure.” He waved a hand. He doesn’t believe you, and in the far corners of your mind you heard Aha’s laughter. Great, you inwardly groaned, but at least it was just Aha. Then you realized they might just fuck around with you AND have people know you’re an Aeon so they could look at you— maybe not today, but at some point in time.

You felt your lips thin at the thought.

Your attention snapped back to Boothill when you saw him glance at a few people, probably lackeys, in a way that you could describe as nasty. Then you suddenly remembered the posters outside in passing.

“Hey darlin, you might wanna hide your pretty face under the table right now. There’s about to be fork load of bullets, don’t want any one of them grazing your face.” Boothill muttered over to you. And you realizing what was happening and what he was going to do, you played along, slowly sliding under the table as he took out a gun. “‘Bout time these motherfudgers showed up.”

It didn’t take two seconds and hell broke loose.

You felt bad for the bartender.

Patrons screamed and some women ran out as you heard gunshots, and suddenly you felt the urge to poke your head out of the table to see the action. It wasn’t like you’d die if a bullet hit you, it would be embarrassing for an Aeon to die by a mere bullet.

You whistled, then gaped as you witnessed this absolute unit of a man literally moonwalk his way out of the bullets. You felt like a little kid watching an action movie, except you had front seats, and this was very much reality.

“Behind you!” You warned Boothill, and he made a show of shooting the lackey (that you now recognized was an IPC grunt) in a way that got you clapping with joy. “Beat their ass mister! Fuck ‘em up!” You cheered, and one of the grunts tried coming for you instead. You weren’t a coward though, and instead grabbed a chair and threw it as hard as you could.

You heard a grunt and a really ugly crack that you know that definitely wasn’t the wooden chair. “Eugh.” You cringed, feeling a little bad about co-signing the man’s obituary but coming for you with a weapon in hand was just natural selection waiting to happen.

Now that you were out of the bag, you grabbed another heavy chair and decided you’d give Boothill an easier time by helping. “I don’t know what’s going on, but damn I feel bad for the owner of the establishment.” You said loudly through the sound of gunshots, Boothill laughed again as another man had been shot down.

“Yap later darlin! You should worry about the side of your fudging head first!” Just as he said that, you threw the chair at one of the final three lackeys. And like the other one who you took out, this one too went out to board his one way ticket to god.

The establishment had gone completely quiet aside from your breathing and the sound of Boothill’s engine quietly whirring.

“Is it over?” You asked, hopeful.

“Yep.” The cyborg drawled.

You released a sympathetic “oof” at the state of the tavern though. “This place is a wreck.” You said flatly.

“Don’t worry too much about that, they’ll take care of it.”

“Okay….” You exhaled. “Wow.. that was.. a lot.” You eyed the bodies, frowning as you prayed your default appearance won’t end up in a wanted poster. Scratch that, it probably would.

“Didn’t know you’re darn crazy like that though.” Boothill spoke, patting off the nonexistent dust off of his pistol.

“Yeah sorry.” You muttered, then clearing your throat. “I felt bad for them but I realized they’re capitalists for a certain corporate office. They can go die in a ditch.” You shrugged, you don’t grieve this time, maybe you would at some point in the future when you’re wiser.

“Also, it wouldn’t hurt to help a friend out I think.” You said, though you’re uncertain as to how Boothill would react to such a sentence.

“Oh fudge me sideways, care to shake my hand? The name’s Boothill.” He grinned, teeth sharp like a shark’s as he held out his metal hand for you to grasp.

Oh I know very well who you are, you thought, not that he would ever know that. You grasp his hand and introduced yourself, happy that he actually likes you.

You eventually had to part ways with him for the day, having each other as contacts through the phone (Welt was kind enough to give you one of your own) so you could keep in touch.

You ended up spending the remainder of your time in that little town looking around for souvenirs to pocket just for Pompom. Now where did you get your money? It’s a little mean, but you looted them off of the IPC bodies.

It’s blood money, but it’s money regardless. And if the people who initially owned it were rich and dead? Then you don’t have to feel bad about pocketing it, you were free to do as you wanted.

Getting back to the parlor car was easy, making your presence known to the beloved little conductor who very much anticipated your presents.

“[Name], where’d you get the money to buy all this?” Welt asked as he inspected the personalized mug you gave him. (It was a neat wooden mug with his name carved on it, Himeko had one of her own too.)

You merely smiled innocently.

Welt sighed, he shouldn’t have asked.

———————-

Part I, Part II (HERE), Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII….

AAAND THATS A WRAP UP FOR THE CHAPTER FOLKS! And yes, reader is a litttle unhinged (curse being a cosmic entity, they’re a little dubious as a treat). And YES they’re a big Boothill fan (like me), like come on who doesn’t wanna hang around a cool space cowboy who has a censored vocabulary of a COD lobby?

[star1ight0]

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader "Always have a place"

TW: mentions of physical/verbal abuse

I have issue, it's okay though writing make me feel better Abt them.

Yelling it was always a non-stop screaming match in your house, your quirk allows you to absorb sound and turn it into physical energy, unfortunately for your fathers quirk was much stronger than yours and fobadde you to use it outside of school. Your house was hell between your mom and dad fighting all the time and occasionally dragging you into it it felt like internal flames.

One night got particularly bad when your dad started yelling, you stepped in to remove your mom from the situation when he raised a fist to hit her as you jumped in the way. He proceeded to derect all anger at you now. Your mom ran taking the keys urging you to leave but you refused to give him even a second to potentially hurt her. She left leaving you a bleeding bruised mess as your dad walked out the door. You couldn't stand it anymore. Through the rumbing of thunder outside you patched yourself up grabbing a duffle bag with clothes. You didn't know where you'd go, but you knew you didn't want to be home when he got back.

Walking in through the rain phone in hand you dialed Katsuki's number.

"the hell? Why are you calling me it's 3am on a school night?" He said in the usual gruff tone the sleep still in his voice.

"Katsu, can i-" you were cut off by Katsuki's voice louder than before "Are you outside?! What the hell, is pouring get inside before you get sick." He said even though he sounded more aggressive you could tell he was genuinely worried.

"Katsuki please just listen to me, i- " you paused feeling a wave of hesitation "I need a place to stay tonight.. please" silence. You heard slight movement from his end. "The doors unlocked my parents are sleeping but I'll tell them while you get here. Hurry up I can't have a hypothermic partner." He said hanging up the phone.

You put the phone in your pocket walking the remaining distance to his home. You knocked on the door being greeted by Mrs. Bakugou.

She was like a second mom to you so the look on her face when she was you bruised eye and cut lip/face was beyond frightening. She helped you in placing your bag on the floor calling Katsuki to start a bath for you. "Go up and take a bath dearie, I'll leave some soup upstairs in Katsuki's room for you." She spoke in a rather soft voice.

You went up towards the bathroom seeing Katsuki still warming the water. "What the fuck. I'm gonna kill that bastard." He spoke pulling you into a hug. "Don't it's - it's my fault I got in the way it's just - he was going to hurt her and i- " your voice was braking with tears and finally giving out with a sob. You shoved your face into his chest

"It's okay dummy.. you're here and safe now. I'll take care of everything okay?" He said his voice softening. "Get in the bath I'll throw a towel in the dryer for you" he said placing a kiss on your lips.

You faced away from the door using Katsuki's soap to wash up. When katsuki returns he sees a bad bruise on your side as you wince in pain trying to wash your hair. "Give me the soap" he said his hand outwards. "Kats-" you said trying to cover yourself with your hands. "Nothing I haven't seen before, just lean back and let me do this for you." You felt your face get warm at his beginning remark but let him nonetheless. Afterwards he leaves to let you get changed.

When you entered the room there was a bowl of soup next to the bed and Katsuki was putting away laundry, you walked behind him wrapping your arms around him placing your weight onto him out of exhaustion.

"Hey, you okay now?" He asked shifting so you were in front of him. "Mhm just cold" you said and he placed his hand on your head "your probably gonna be sick. You should've called me I could've gone and got you dumbass" he says but there's no anger anywhere in his voice just worry. He picked you up bridal style placing you on the bed laying next to you. "Mom's okay with you sleeping in here but if you want the bed to yourself.. too bad." He says kissing you. You snuggling into him finally letting your guard down snuggling into him "I don't.. know how long I'll need a place-" you were cut off by a kiss from Katsuki "don't act like you don't have a place here. Besides, the hag likes you so she won't mind"

The rest of the night is cuddling and a little bit of crying, but Katsuki holds you the whole time until you both fall asleep.

[sweetcherryharry]

i love you, i'm sorry

based on the song 'i love you, i'm sorry' by gracie abrams.

pairing: harry styles x actress!reader

i promise the next one shot i post won't be angsty!! haha i just love it.

(masterlist)

Two Augusts ago, the world was theirs. Y/N, a rising actress with a radiant smile and a captivating screen presence, had just landed her breakout role in a critically acclaimed film. Harry, the soloist singer from one of the most known boy bands worldwide, was on the cusp of global stardom. Their paths crossed at a star-studded after-party, a whirlwind of flashing cameras and intoxicating energy.

Their connection was instant, a magnetic pull that drew them together like moths to a flame. Y/N was captivated by Harry's wit, his passion for music, and the vulnerability he revealed beneath his confident exterior. Harry, in turn, was mesmerized by Y/N's intelligence, her infectious laughter, and the way her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief.

Their romance blossomed in the spotlight, a whirlwind of red carpet appearances, stolen kisses backstage, and late-night jam sessions in dimly lit recording studios.

Y/N's career soared as she took on challenging roles, her performances garnering critical acclaim and adoration from fans. Harry's solo career skyrocketed to fame, their music topping charts and filling stadiums with screaming fans.

But as their individual stars rose, the cracks in their relationship began to show. The demands of their careers pulled them in opposite directions, leaving little time for the intimacy they once cherished.

The constant scrutiny of the media added another layer of pressure, their every move dissected and analyzed under the harsh glare of the public eye.

As Harry's band embarked on a grueling world tour, the distance between them grew, a chasm widening with each missed call and unanswered text.

Y/N poured her heart into her latest film, a drama that demanded her full attention. Long hours on set and emotional scenes left her drained and craving the warmth of Harry's voice, the comfort of his touch. But his calls became sporadic, his texts filled with vague apologies and promises of making it up to her.

One sweltering August evening, after a particularly draining day on set, Y/N's phone finally buzzed with an incoming call from Harry. A wave of relief washed over her as she eagerly answered, her voice trembling with a mixture of longing and frustration.

"Harry! It's been days," she exclaimed, trying to keep the hurt from her voice. "I've barely heard from you."

"I know, love," he replied, his voice muffled as if he were speaking from a crowded space. "I'm so sorry. It's been crazy out here."

"Crazy? Or just too busy for me?" Y/N retorted, the words escaping her lips before she could stop them.

A heavy silence settled over the line. "Don't start this again, Y/N," Harry sighed. "You know how hectic touring can be."

"But you promised to call more often," she said, her voice rising with each word, like the crest of a wave before it crashes. "You promised to make time for us, even when you're on the road."

Her eyes, once filled with trust and understanding, now held a glimmer of doubt. The weight of his broken promises bore down on her shoulders, reminding her of the distance that had grown between them.

They had talked about this, hadn't they? It had not been the first time the topic had arisen.

Three times now, they had sat down together for a call, their hearts filled with hope, and he had reassured her with promises of improvement.

But like sand slipping through one's fingers, his pledges faded into emptiness after a few short weeks. The sting of betrayal pierced her heart, leaving her feeling lost and alone.

"I'm trying, okay?" Harry snapped, his patience wearing thin. "But it's not always easy. You have your work, I have mine. We can't expect to be glued to each other's side all the time."

His words stung, a harsh reminder of the growing distance between them. "Maybe you're right," Y/N said, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe we're not meant to do this anymore."

A tense silence followed, broken only by the sound of Harry's ragged breathing. "Is that what you want, Y/N?" he finally asked, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

Y/N closed her eyes, tears welling up. "I don't know what I want anymore," she admitted, her voice thick with emotion. "All I know is that this isn't working. It's not the way it used to be."

More silence. Then, a resigned sigh. "Maybe you're right," Harry echoed. "Maybe it's time we both moved on."

The call ended abruptly, the silence echoing in Y/N's ears. She collapsed onto her bed, tears streaming down her face. The love she'd once cherished felt like a distant memory, a fading dream.

Ever since that day, they haven’t spoken.

Two years drifted by, a silent chasm stretching between them, filled with unanswered calls, unsent texts, and a lingering ache of what could have been.

Y/N immersed herself in her career, her ambition a shield against the pain of their separation. Each successful role, each award, was a testament to her resilience, a badge of honor earned through countless hours of dedication and the shedding of silent tears.

Harry, on the other hand, had soared to fame. Sold-out stadiums, chart-topping hits, and a whirlwind of adoring fans marked his journey. Yet, amidst the deafening roar of applause, a quiet yearning gnawed at him, a longing for the warmth and laughter that had once filled his life.

One night, as Y/N mindlessly scrolled through social media, her thumb absently swiping past countless posts, a video thumbnail caught her eye. It was from a popular Pop news account, and the post was recent, just published a few seconds ago.

It was a grainy, fan-recorded clip of Harry's final show in Europe. The caption read, “Harry Styles singing a new, unreleased single about heartbreak on one of his shows on August 18th.”

A date seared into her memory, the two-year anniversary of their heartbreaking split.

Curiosity, mingled with a bittersweet pang of nostalgia, compelled her to click on the video. The familiar strains of Harry's voice filled her ears, but the song was new, raw and vulnerable, a far cry from his usual upbeat anthems. As the camera zoomed in on his face, she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes, a vulnerability she hadn't seen in years.

"This song," he began, his voice thick with emotion, "is special to me. It's for someone who I hurt deeply. Someone who I never stopped loving, even when I was too proud to admit it."

Y/N's breath hitched. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling a sob. It was as if he were speaking directly to her, across continents and time zones, his words piercing through the carefully constructed walls she'd built around her heart.

Tears streamed down Y/N's face as she listened to his voice with the guitar melodies, the lyrics pouring out of Harry like a confession, a desperate plea for forgiveness.

I love you, I'm sorry.

The words echoed in her mind, each syllable a painful reminder of their love lost. The video ended, leaving Y/N breathless and overwhelmed.

A wave of emotions washed over Y/N – sorrow, longing, and a flicker of hope she hadn't dared to feel in years. It was as if the distance that had separated them had vanished, replaced by an invisible thread connecting their hearts.

The video ended, leaving Y/N breathless and overwhelmed. Lost in her thoughts, she absently refreshed her Twitter feed, her eyes widening in shock as she saw her own name trending alongside Harry's.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she scrolled through countless tweets, each one dissecting the lyrics of his new song and speculating about its inspiration. The consensus was clear: it was about her.

"Harry's new song is a love letter to Y/N," one tweet proclaimed.

"He's clearly still in love with her," another user declared.

"This is the apology we've all been waiting for!" a fan account chimed in.

The sheer volume of tweets, the overwhelming outpouring of support and speculation, left Y/N reeling. It was as if the world had become a chorus, echoing the unspoken truth that had lingered between them for two long years.

As the tweet became more popular, her phone buzzed with incoming messages from friends and colleagues, all asking the same question: "Is it about you?"

Y/N didn't know how to answer. A part of her wanted to deny it, to protect herself from the potential heartbreak that lay ahead. But another part of her, the part that had never stopped loving Harry, yearned for it to be true.

As she re-listened to the lyrics of his song, the raw emotion in his voice echoing in her ears, she couldn't deny the truth any longer. It was about her. It was always about her.

The emotions swirling within her were too powerful to ignore. With trembling fingers, Y/N typed a simple message:

“Hey.”

She hesitated, her thumb hovering over the send button. But before she could second-guess herself, she pressed send, the message disappearing into the digital abyss.

To her surprise, the three dots indicating he was typing appeared almost immediately. Her heart hammered in her chest as she waited for his response.

“Hey.”

His reply was a single word, but it held a universe of unspoken emotions.

“I listened to your new song,” she typed back, her fingers flying across the screen.

“It's for you.”

The words appeared on her screen, stark and unadorned, yet carrying the weight of two years of regret and longing.

Y/N's breath hitched. She didn't know what to say, how to respond to this unexpected confession. A million questions swirled in her mind, but the only words she could manage were:

"Can we talk?"

The reply came almost instantly:

"Please."

A surge of adrenaline coursed through Y/N's veins. She didn't know where this conversation would lead, but she knew she had to take this chance.

After two years of silence, the door to their past had been cracked open, and she had to find out if there was any hope of rekindling the flame that had once burned so brightly between them.

[emmyrosee]

Every morning was a pleasant routine.

Rintaro would get up, press a sweet, light kiss to your head before heading out for a run- then, he’d come back just in time for you and Kaiya to be up and making breakfast for him while he showers.

Then, he’d change, have a small bite for breakfast, watch one episode of whatever show was on with his baby while he brushed her hair, then kiss her goodbye and allow you to drown him in your own share of goodbye kisses before he heads off to work.

But today, he just. Skipped it. Instead of getting up for a run, he whines and buries himself in the pillows for a bit more sleep. Instead of showering, he throws on clean enough clothes and deodorant while you’re struggling to prepare a semi-sufficient breakfast for your husband as he scrambles to get all his practice gear ready. He packs Akito's lunch and sends him off to school with a ruffle of his hair, while a toothbrush is jammed down his throat.

Kaiya watches, confused, as you smear apple jam over a piece of toast and pour him a cup of coffee, knowing he’d have to take it in the car in any chance to make it in on time. The child merely makes her way into the living room to wait for her father to come watch Bluey as he did every morning.

“Got your phone? Water? Protein bar? Lunch- Rin do not forget your lunch again- change of socks?” All of your asking gets a hurried, quickly glanced “yes” or “got it” from Rin. He stuffs the toast into his mouth and plants a half-successful kiss to your cheek in order to head out. “Love you girls!”

“Love you too!” You call back, watching him make his way out of the house, struggling slightly with the disorganized bag.

“Mommy?” Kaiya whimpers, her cheeks stained with strawberry juice. “Where daddy going?”

You crouch down to your little girls height, wondering if she just forgot that he left everyday, or whatever the case may be, “well… he’s going to work, baby, he’ll be back soon!”

“Daddy’s gone?”

“Yeah baby… we can get lunch with him later if you would like to-“

“No!” She cries, her wide, green eyes filling with tears. Your heart sinks, you really don’t know what the problem is, and that sadness only grows when Kaiya, in all her four year old energy can muster, runs to the large living room window that looks out to the driveway, her tiny fists banging on the glass. “Daddyyyyy!” She wails, her cries becoming more frantic.

“Kaiya, it’s okay! Daddy will be home later-“

“Daddyyyyyy!”

Instinctively, you bring your hands up to try and cover up your ears from the scream of your baby, shocked at the volume and distress of her shrieks.

Suddenly, she runs from the window to the front door, and your heart absolutely jumps in your throat, fearing she’s going to try and book it about the front door to follow her dad.

When you make a move to chase her, you let out a relieved breath to see her clutched in the arms of her Rintaro, her tiny face buried in his neck and his, in her hair. Little sniffles and whimpers slip from her tiny face, interwoven with small little “I’m sorry, princess,” falling from Rin’s lips.

“She had a meltdown when you left, Rin,” you explain, leaning against the wall in exhaustion from the already hectic morning. Your hands scrub your face to relieve the fatigue, but you freeze and almost smack yourself when Kaiya finally peeps up.

“I-it’s ‘cause you didn’t say goodbye t'me,” she whimpers, and Rintaro squeezes her impossibly closer, his eyes screwing shut to fight his own shame. Neither of you even processed that, it was so crazy that a simple ‘love you!’ was sufficient enough to quell your need for his affection, but both of you clearly forgot about your daughter’s needs.

“I know, Angel, I’m so sorry,” he says softly, placing a sweet kiss on her temple. “Daddy was too busy this morning huh? Needs to make sure he takes care of his favorite girls?” His eyes flick to you before he opens one of his arms for you to come into for a hug.

His embrace is tempting, but you sigh softly, “Rin, you’ll be late-“

“‘M already late,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “But I’m almost halfway tempted to call in sick and spend the day here, so I’d get in this hug if I were you.”

In truth, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t about to take him up on that offer, spend the day with the two loves of your life with a nice hot breakfast, maybe a couple of Disney movies and a walk in the park, but it wouldn’t be right; not when Rin already works so hard to be able to provide you with that life while he’s busy playing or even out of the country.

Regardless, you slip to your knees and crawl into Rin’s other side, your hand wrapping around his broad shoulders so your fingers can tangle in his soft hair, which he happily leans into.

He plants a kiss to your head before nuzzling his nose against Kaiya’s own dark hair, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, baby. I’ll be better next time."

“You better,” she whimpers. You and Rin look at each other and chuckle, none of you daring to leave the hug.

If anything, you squeeze tighter, not ready to let the world interrupt yet.

—-

tagging u 🥺👉🏻👈🏻 @reverie-starlight @tsukiran @wolffmaiden @thoreeo @aliensknowmyillusions @tutuwusworld @lavishcherie @sassycheesecake @cheolattes @rrairey 🩷

[appleblueberry-pie]

How would Yandere Suguru react if he discovered that y/n was obsessed with him but to avoid him getting suspicious y/n pretended to be obsessed with someone else?

He fucking hates when you talk about that stupid monkey. He haaates when you bring him up. He hates when you smile when he's brought up. He hates when he crosses his account because you're following him on every single website that Suguru follows you on. He fucking hates that stupid thing because he's taking all of the time and energy he deserves from you. HE deserves you. He deserves your time, your energy, your breath, your tongue fixated on his name, he deserves it. He worships you. That no-life doesn't even know you, so how the fuck is it possible he gets to have you??

Endless questions that are never answered just gets shoved down his throat into his aching stomach once more as you ramble to him as he settles down on your bed.

You're flipping through channels and decide on one that you like. And as the TV gets it ready, you slip away to the bathroom for a little bit. And, as usual, Suguru tries to find anything you could possibly be hiding. His hand discretely goes through your nightstand drawer. He comes across a locked box. Funny. Wasn't here last time he checked this.

Good thing he has a thing for picking locks, right?

He gets it open, and there is a notebook. Heavy and thick with stuff taped inside of there, lots and lots and looooots of writing. All about him.

............All about him. Suguru Geto. Every single entry is titled with his name and the entry number. There's at least 30 in there. But you have so much to say about him, he can't stress that enough, that you finished the thing!

His head feels light as he realizes you've been lying about the dude you said you liked. You were covering up for your obsession over him....!

You come back and see him with it in his hands and you both make eye contact. He watches your face drop and you gasp, your body flinching as you see your most private and personal possession in his hands. You poured your heart into that fucking notebook, every page contained how you felt about the man on your bed reading it, from when your obsession first started to now. You only finished it last week. And here he was reading it.

You were scared. Suguru placed it on the bed when he saw your face, as if you were about to die for committing the biggest sin in the damn scripture of man, getting up to approach you. You shook your head and took steps back when he took steps foward.

All he wanted was to assure you, but you couldn't hear a damn thing he was saying, your ears ringing, pressure building in them as your heart raced. This was your biggest fear.

"Wait, Y/n, please-" Your eyes glossed over as you left your bedroom. He followed close behind and when he grabbed your arm, you just dropped to the floor. He was quick to follow, holding you in his arms. You sobbed your heart out, clutching him like he'd disappear in thin air and his heart breaks. Couldn't you tell he loved you just as much as you did with him?

"Please don't hate me!" You struggled to slip those words out in between sobs and choked up cries.

Suguru tries to ignore the glee he feels in his heart when you really confirm his suspicions. You were really crying for him. Over him! You really wanted him to stay with you. To love you. He wiped your delicious salt tears off of your face, embracing your beauty even when your face was puffy from the crying.

"I don't hate you, baby, I don't. I love that you love me. I love that you want me. Cause I want you, too, okay? I love you, Y/n. I do."

"......are you lying to me?"

"I would never lie to you. You're the last person I'd lie to."

[xveenusx]

And Yet..

Paring(s): jj maybank x fem!reader

Summary: two people who should be together simply can't find their way. In other words, JJ can't let himself be loved and can't let her go.

Author's note: This one is brutal so prepare yourselves. Realistically, JJ would totally self sabotage any chance of happiness because he can't handle how it makes him feel so that's exactly what this is. Thank you for all the feedback on 3 seconds! If you like when it hurts, then this is for you!

Part 1: Three Seconds

-------------------

He left.

It’d been hours and none of us knew where JJ went, only that he left. While JJ storming off was a normal feat, he always came back.

Now normally, I would have been looking for him, knowing exactly where to look. I’d find him and we’d avoid everyone until he felt like he was ready. This time was different. He never looked at me the way he did today.

A look of pure betrayal.

John B had gone MIA with Sarah while Pope and Kie were handling everything we needed to look for the gold. Me? I was trying to find a way to cope with the sudden JJ sized gap in my life.

It was brutal trying to get through the entire day without collapsing. Everything felt dull. I decided going home and hiding out in my room was the only option. It spared me the looks of concern from our friends and gave me the freedom to cry.

My room felt abnormally empty and cold. My stomach rolled as JJ’s words played in a brutal loop. I crawled into my bed where I curled into myself tightly, hugging my knees to my chest to create some type of pressure.

He’ll come back. He always comes back.

I jolted awake to pounding on my window.

“-wake up. He needs you. It’s bad oh my god it’s really bad.”

Scrambling off the bed, I pushed the curtains aside to see Kie’s panicked face. “Kie, what’s going on?”

Her face filled with relief as she pulled me into her. “We need to get to the chateau now. He’s not making any sense and bought all of this stuff.”

Nausea rolled in my stomach.

“JJ-“

She cuts me off. “He needs you.”

I left the house in seconds, hopped into the Hayward truck and we took off. I nibbled on my nails, glancing at Kiara in the drivers seat. Her face was painted with worry and her leg bopped up and down displaying her nervous energy.

Kie moved one hand from the steering wheel and threaded our hands together, squeezing tightly.

Pulling up to the chateau, I see LED lights tangled up on the trees, shining lights reflecting on the yard. How was there power? The hurricane had taken everything out.

Before I could figure it out, I heard a commotion that drifted up the drive way.

“Where is she? You said Kie was getting her.”

My heart jumped to my throat. I hold onto Kiara tighter as we move toward the raised voices.

Something twisted in my chest as I took in the hot tub and lights suddenly decorating John B’s yard.

JJ is shouting at Pope now, slurring his words slightly, before taking a pull of the champagne he clutched in his hand.

“Look man, she’s here. She’s here, JJ. Calm down.” Pope announced, pointing in our direction, before placing his hands around his head and taking a deep breath.

Awareness ran through me. JJ turned his body to face me, his gaze flicked to mine.

He said nothing yet his eyes said everything. There was an openness that seemed to make him vulnerable.

“You came.”

A tug deep in my chest urged me to move closer. “You asked.”

“Okay, now that she’s here. What did you do, JJ? Where did all this come from?” Pope asked, but we all knew the answer.

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now. Y’all should get in immediately, ya hear?” JJ laughed, the aviator sunglasses slipping down slightly. His blonde hair slick with water stuck to his forehead as he messily poured champagne into a glass. “Salud!”

Pope let out a noise of disbelief, “How much did this cost?”

“Uh, pretty much all of it.”

I moved around, taking in the inflatable floaties that filled up the yard, while biting the inside of my cheek. He spent all of the money.

“Kie, what? Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?”

I tuned out their arguing. There was a reason he acted out and bought all of this pointless shit but I couldn’t figure out what it was. He knew. He knew he needed to pay for restitution.

A blanket of dread covered my body like an old blanket as the consequences of JJ’s actions finally settled in. Another sense of dread hit when I knew I wouldn’t leave him.

“You could have paid for restitution or better yet, helped us buy supplies.” Pope said, shaking his head in clear frustration.

They weren’t seeing this for what it was. Something was wrong. Yes, he was reckless and rash but like I said before, most of the time he does those things because something happened.

“Okay Pope. Well, I didn’t do that. I got a hot tub for my friends,” JJ choked out, “I got a hot tub for my friends. Screw that, I got a hot tub for my family.”

“JJ, what the hell?” Kie whispered.

Something in her voice made me turn back around quickly and that’s when I saw it.

JJ stood at the center of the hot tub, one hand clutching the champagne bottle while the other hung loosely at his side. His gold necklace moving back and forth shining under the lights, but that’s not what caught my eye.

What caught my eye was the purple and blue bruises that littered his chest and ribs. A high pitched ringing filled my ears as my body felt like it began to float.

This. This was the reason he spent all the money.

My hand covers my mouth as I let out a choked sound.

Hearing the noise, JJ turns to me, his face entirely shattered, tears causing the crystal blue orbs to shine.

“Do you see what I did? Look what I did for you,” He cried out as he held out his arms, staring at me with such vulnerability I could feel my knees start to buckle.

Tears freely began to fall from my face as I took inventory of just how many bruises covered his body.

“No, stop being so emotional. It’s fine, everything’s fine.”

My feet moved on their own accord. Fully dressed, I threw one leg over then the other ignoring the burning from the heat of the water.

He reached for me the moment my body hit the water just as my arms circled around his neck. JJ curled his body into me, the champagne bottle forgotten, his arms circling around my waist digging into my lower back, clutching me like a life line.

My legs knocked together as the adrenaline and helplessness kicked in. I began counting in my head my breaths because I knew in this moment, I couldn’t afford to break down.

Not when he was broken beyond belief.

My fingers threaded themselves into his sun-kissed locks, brushing from the nape of his neck to the top of his head and back again. I pressed my lips onto his head, not letting my grip loosen for one second.

“I love you.” I murmured over and over again as sobs wracked his body, his head in my chest soaking my shirt with his tears. “I got you, it’s okay. I’m here, Jayj.”

I glanced up helplessly and see Pope and Kie staring at us, both of them clearly distraught.

I beckon them over with a nod in my head and instantly JJ and I are covered in warmth. Their arms wrapping around us both, whispering words of love to him.

We stayed like that until our skin got pruny, not wanting to move until he was ready.

When the time did come, I could tell by the way his grip on my waist loosened and his sobs quieted down. Brushing the hair out of his face, I brought my face close to his, “You ready to get out now?”

JJ nodded.

“Kie, can you set out some of John b’s clothes?” I asked her, moving to get out. She nodded and pope followed her inside.

JJ followed closely behind me. His fingers laced with mine, trembling slightly as the night air bit at our soaked bodies.

Shuffling into the chateau, our friends were sprawled out on the couch with Kie strumming away at the ukulele.

“I left the clothes in the spare.” Pope said, his eyes locked on JJ.

I shot him a thankful smile, “Thanks, Pope.”

Once we were in the room, I shut the door as JJ shimmed out of his shorts. Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I grabbed the towel from the bed and began to dry him.

I could feel his intense gaze on my face the entire time. Biting back a smile, I whispered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Please.”

“I really like the hot tub.”

JJ tilted his head back and let out a surprised laugh. The sound of his familiar laugh caused a wave of warmth to crash over me, causing a zoo of butterflies to swarm my stomach.

“It is a pretty sick tub, isn’t it?” He smiled.

“It is. Very kooky of you.”

He narrowed his red rimmed eyes at me, “Take that back.”

I couldn’t have his my grin even if I tried.

“JJ the kook? I could see that.”

He sends me a cheeky smile in return. Bringing my attention back to the task at hand, I drag the towel along his shoulders before heading towards his chest. My hand stalled slightly as I saw how angry the bruises were, the hue of the purple and blue causing my stomach to churn.

My head moved carefully as I pressed my lips softly along each bruise, fluttering my eyes shut. I feel familiar rough hands tangling themselves in my hair and he lets out a sharp breath.

Opening my eyes, he tilted my head back with his fingers gripped the nape of my neck. A storm brewed in the crystal blue eyes, flicking between every emotion.

His thumb slowly drew my bottom lip down causing his eyes to darken with each passing second,” Thank you.”

Tremors wracked my body at how close we were, our breaths intertwined filtering into my bloodstream.

JJ shifted forward allowing his lips to softly brush mine. The moment my lips parted, he pressed his again almost like he was inhaling my every breath.

Pulling back, he rested his forehead on mine and repeated, “Thank you.”

“I got you. I’ll let you change-“ My words got cut off as he grabbed my arm to stop me in my tracks.

“Stay.”

And so I did.

_______________

I blinked at the alarm clock that read 3 a.m and slowly rubbed the sleepiness from my eyes. I could hear the sound of the skeeters buzzing outside the chateau and felt a strange sense of calm at the quiet.

Reaching toward the other side of the bed , my hands were met with empty cold sheets. He was gone.

I closed my eyes tightly and took in a deep breath as I willed for this nightmare to go away. We still had a lot to work through, but I thought after last night, he finally understood how fucking in deep I was. I was all in, completely and utterly in love with him. It’s always been him.

Pushing my body up, I slowly bring the sheet up to my chest covering my naked body from the cold. A sharp tinge of fear hit my chest as I noticed a presence at the end of the bed that was quickly replaced with an immense sense of relief.

JJ sat on the edge of the bed with his bare back facing me, his elbows on his knees, and head in his hands. A small smile played my lips as I shuffled over, my hands slowly trailing themselves over his shoulders and pressed my lips softly against his shoulder blade.

“Can’t sleep?”

His shoulders tensed the minute my lips touched his body. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

Confusion filled every fiber of my being as I finally took him in. I could feel the weak stitches that held my heart together suddenly begin to tear.

I opened my mouth and closed it. The backs of my eyes burned as I stared at the side of his face, the face that I spent hours admiring, that refused to even look at me.

“I thought after last night-“

JJ shook his head in disgust and let out a dry breath, roughly tugging at the messy strands on his head.

“We fucked. It’s not like that’s something we’ve never done before. It doesn’t change anything.”

Like I said before, I understand him. I know him and I know exactly what he’s doing. That doesn’t stop every part of me from feeling like I had just gotten kicked in the chest.

“JJ, please don’t do this.” I inhaled a shaky breath as I clutched the sheer tighter to my chest, almost like it was an armor against his cruel words, words that I knew came from a place of panic. Yet, it hurt just the same.

“Do what,” JJ said, getting up from the bed to face me, arms crossed tightly against his chest. “You made it clear what side you were on and it wasn’t mine.”

“Stop twisting what happened. You forget that I know you, JJ. I know you,” I stood on my shaky feet, the sheets wrapped around my body. “You think I dont know why your treating me this way. You’re dad doesn’t decide who you are.”

Desperation burned in my blood as I once again tried to grasp at straws. He was always finding excuses to run from me and each and every time, JJ took a piece of me with him.

“Shut up. I’m not doing this shit with you.”

“You have no idea how special you are do you? How easy you are to love?” It was an honest question, one that seemed to anger him if the clenching of his fists was any indication.

“Stop-“

I cut him off. “Because you are. Special, I mean.”

JJ said nothing. His gaze met mine, and the blue eyes I thought matched the ocean perfectly, showed a battle of emotions.

I took the opportunity to move closer to him, fighting the urge to curl up and cry at the look of utter confusion on his face.

Luke had successfully beat it into him that he was worthless, useless, and would never amount to anything. This, this look on his face was why I stayed.

He didn’t know. He really didn’t know the effect he had on people, on me.

My fingers trembled slightly as I reached to touch the bracelets that decorated his wrist. All of them being gifts from me.

“You’re fiercely loyal to the people you love. The family that you chose for yourself. It’s almost frustrating how you don’t see it,” I muttered, tilting my head up to search his eyes. “I mean, fuck JJ, you took the fall for Pope because you didn’t want his future to be ruined. You went to jail and now you’re on probation.”

“Please, stop.” His plead was weak at best.

My fingers danced along his jaw, my voice wavering slightly at the tightness in my chest. “You sat with my everyday during summer school so I wouldn’t be myself. No one does that, JJ. Especially not here.”

He had to know I was telling the truth.

“So please, listen to me when I tell you that loving you has been the easy thing I’ve ever done.”

Despite the immense beating my poor heart has taken, it still beats with a naive sense of hope.

Hope that sky rocketed when JJ reached forward to twirl a strand of my hair in between his fingers, almost as though he was memorizing how it felt.

“Such pretty little words.” He hummed. “How many other guys have you told that too?”

I recoiled back in shock.

“Pretty little words won’t get you anywhere. You wanna fuck, I’m down. But that’s not gonna stop me from mackin’ on other chicks.”

Then he dropped the strand of my hair, along with every hope that he could love me.

I chose to then focus on my anger that slowly began to bubble to the surface.

“Like who? Your gonna start mackin’ on Kie?” I launched the question at him, my voice raising an octave in disbelief.

“Maybe. At least she knows when to leave.”

“Stop talking to me like that,” My voice broke at the end, the burning in my eyes getting too hard to ignore. “You’re hurting me.”

All I could do was stare.

Here I stood, heart bleeding, begging a broken boy to love me back. And maybe that wasn’t fair for me to ask, maybe it was too much but a large part of me thought he felt something. Even if it was a fraction of what I felt for him because at least it was something.

Anything.

“You’re never going to let me love you, are you?” I ignored the sharp stab in my stomach as I finally said the question I already knew the answer to.

JJ’s head snapped up in shock at my question. “I never asked for you to love me.”

“You showed up to my window every night because you didn’t want to go home. You hold my hand, you kiss me, you fuck me. You come to me when you can’t fucking sleep. You sleep in my bed. You teach me to surf and take me everywhere with you. You ask for my advice and god forbid I don’t answer the phone, you have a melt down.” I was shouting at that point, my voice loud enough to wake up our friends who were sleeping in the living room but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“You need me, I’m there. You got arrested, I bail you out. You get in a fight, I clean you up. JJ, you showed up in my life and surrounded me. You’re fucking everywhere. How could you not expect me to fall in love with you when you do these things?”

The laugh I let out was one of a broken girl, one who had completely lost herself in a wave of chaos known as JJ Maybank.

The door was right there. And yet, I couldn't get my feet to move.

“Because I don’t fucking understand it, okay? Because I’ve never had the luxury of someone looking at me the way you do and it makes me physically fucking sick.” JJ took several strides until he was pressed up firmly against me, his fingers threading themselves into the nape of my neck.

“The way you look at me makes me feel like I’m suffocating, don’t you get that? And yet, I can’t fucking thinking straight when you’re not by me.” He choked out, his face was white with panic.

I could feel myself start to crumble at his words. Welcome to the club. “Yesterday, you said I wasn't enough for you.”

JJ nodded, his eyes staring straight into me with such intensity I had to swallow.

“You know why I said it. You know how I get. The way you look at me,” He swears pounding his hand against the wall,” Fuck the way you look at me. You make me feel like I can be a better person, that I have the potential to do something great.”

“Because you can-“

“No I fucking can’t. You give me this hope that I can be better and then something happens to remind me that I can’t and it crushes me. It fucking wrecks me.”

I roughly wiped the tears that blurred my vision and asked, “So what are you saying?”

The silence caused the anticipation of his answer to intensify, making breathing almost impossible.

“Sometimes, being with you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

Can you hear that? It’s the sound of my heart shattering for the last time.

“Then you have to let me go.”

He shook his head,”Thats not what I want.”

“Let me go, JJ. If not for you, then for me because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. You haven’t even been able to say it back. You completely own me, every thought I have is about you.”

“You own ME.” JJ shouted, his hands in his hair tugging it in anger. “And it completely terrifies me and then I say the first thing I can to make the fear go away just so I can get a moment of peace. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

In a way, I couldn’t really be angry with him.

No one’s every really described just how dangerous loving someone can be. How they consume every part of you until there’s nothing left. Until suddenly, you can only breathe when you’re around them. When your very mood depends on the expression of their face. The pure feeling of ecstasy that covers your body in a layer of electricity the moment you’re around them and they look at you.

“You love me,” At my words, JJ looked almost relieved, like he finally understood why he felt so many things at once,” but you can’t let yourself love me.”

And yet, despite this revelation, I still couldn’t bring myself to leave.

A tortured look passed his face as he pressed his back against the wall and slowly slid down.

“You need to let me go because I love you to the point that I cant bring myself to leave. So if you don’t want me, if you can’t be with me then do this for me. If you don’t, I’m going to keep giving you every piece of me until there’s nothing left. “

I guess you never truly understand until it happens. Until you get physically ill when they’re upset or filled with warmth when you see them tilt their head back and laugh. When you see them and suddenly the world is just a little less overwhelming, bearable even.

When every fiber of your being is tuned into one person.

Gripping the sheet tighter, I moved in between his legs and settle myself on the floor. The moment I did, JJ engulfed me in his embrace. His presence soaked through my skin leaving the intoxicated feeling in its wake.

“I can’t,” He shook his head fervently, “ I can’t do that.”

I understood him, because I couldn’t either.

“What are we going to do, Jayj?”

JJ pressed his face against my throat, “I don’t know.”

We weren’t okay, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Nothing had been solved and yet, we sat on the floor wrapped in each others embrace.

So I said the only thing I knew to be true and give him yet another piece of me, “I love you.”

“I know.”

There we were. Two souls irrevocably intertwined in a mass of love and hate that were broken beyond recognition. Neither of us being able to leave the other.

And yet, all I could focus on was his inability to say he loved me back.

_____________________

Tags for all those who requested: @trickylittlewitch @maybankslover @bcon24 @chaoticbisous @ifilwtmfc @dullsocietyy @mad-die45 @stuffyownswrld @kaylinfayezink @theywantedplayer

[moonstruckme]

Hi! First wanna say I love your writing of the marauders!! It’s amazing and really fills the need I have for their content so thank you! I was hoping to request something kinda similar to the aftercare poly!marauders washing up fic you just did but with a reader who can be exhausted but the minute they shower and get ready for bed they get a sudden burst of involuntary energy and can’t sleep anymore and they get cranky that they were sorta woken up and blame the boys for making her wash up and she’s just very bratty and upset and end it with fluff please?

I'm happy you enjoy it! Thanks for requesting <3

cw: very (very) brief implied smut

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You lie on your back, the trembling starting to die down and one hand still tangled loosely in Sirius’ hair. You close your eyes, trying to even out your breathing. Remus strokes the outside of your thigh, giving you the time you need to come down. But just as the sweat starts to cool on your body, just as your breathing relaxes into a more familiar rhythm and your mind starts to slip away, he says, “Alright, lovely girl. Let’s get up.” 

You sigh, but allow yourself to be hauled upright, mumbling a thanks into James’ shoulder as he piggybacks you into the bathroom. You barely have to stand upright by yourself as you let your boyfriends wash you off, taking turns supporting you and dipping under the showerhead themselves. Sirius teases you for being such a princess when you’re sleepy, and James says that he actually thinks you’d make a fantastic princess, thank Sirius very much, and Remus chuckles at the both of them, and it’s all so familiar it only lulls you further into your tranquil state. 

Before long, you’re wrapped in a warm towel and James is helping you into your favorite fuzzy pajamas, dropping a kiss on the top of your head when he’s finished. You start to crawl up the bed, loose-limbed and eager to slip between the warm sheets, but Remus stops you with a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, wait a minute.” He ducks his head, moving your curtain of wet hair aside so you’re forced to give him your attention. “Did you go to the bathroom?”

You whine, and the concern in his eyes morphs into knowing. “Not negotiable, dove. UTIs are not fun.” 

You flop petulantly onto the bed, face down. “Like you would know,” you grumble into the soft sheets. 

James chuckles, but grabs you around the ankles and tugs until your legs are hanging off the mattress. You clutch loose fistfulls of covers. 

“It’ll be okay jus’ this once,” you yawn. At the moment, a good night’s rest seems worth whatever mild inconvenience a UTI might cause. You’re so cozy, and sleep is right there, already coming to reclaim you despite your uncomfortable position at the end of the bed. 

“C’mon, just go so you can get in here with us, yeah?” Sirius says, prodding you with his foot from underneath the sheets. “Won’t take a couple minutes.” 

You groan but slide off the bed, walking zombie-like into the bathroom. The lighting seems harsher now that it’s not clouded by steam. You miss the warmth of the shower, the support of your boyfriends’ arms. The tile is cold under your feet and someone’s left the fan on, its whirring noisy and incessant. Everything seems more and worse than it was a few minutes before. 

By the time you’re done, you’ve woken up entirely against your will. The drowsiness from just a minute before feels like a distant, hazy memory. You tromp back into the bedroom, peering through the darkness at your droopy-eyed boyfriends. Envy curls in your stomach like a snake poised to strike. Your eyes, your muscles, your very bones are exhausted, yet you don’t think you could drift off even if someone poured a sleeping draught down your throat. Sirius cracks an eyelid to find you standing over the bed and lazily pulls back the covers, opening his arms for you. You feel like stomping your foot. 

“I’m not tired anymore,” you complain. Sirius blinks both eyes open, and Remus and James stir. “You guys made me get up, and now I won’t be able to sleep.” 

“Don’t be silly, dove.” Remus murmurs, not even opening his eyes. “Get in bed, you’ll fall asleep soon.” 

“I can’t,” you say, too frustrated to be embarrassed at the whiny pitch of your voice. 

“Whas’ going on?” James is beginning to rouse, and Remus gives you a cross look. Yeah, you think, that makes two of us. They’d all forced you to get up, and frankly, you’re not feeling too guilty about letting them have a taste of their own medicine.

“She says she can’t sleep,” Sirius replies, pushing up onto his elbow. 

James rolls over so he’s facing you, his eyes foggy and half-lidded. “D’you think you just need to warm up, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, but Sirius joins him. “Yeah, c’mere, baby. Let us fix you up.” 

And, well. You’re supposed to be mad, but it’s hard to resist an offer like that. 

Your huff is mostly performative as you crawl into the bed and Sirius’ waiting arms, letting him maneuver you over him so that you’re lying between him and Remus. It is considerably warmer underneath the covers, and you shuffle closer to Sirius. For body heat, of course. 

“Fuck, you are cold,” he mutters as your feet brush his calves, but he doesn’t pull away, rubbing warmth into your arms. 

“This isn’t going to work,” you say as one of his hands moves to your back, tracing smooth circles with his palm. “I still don’t feel tired.” 

“Try,” Remus says, managing to sound stern even on the brink of sleep. “Just close your eyes and give it a little while.”

You roll your eyes, tucking your head under Sirius’ chin. 

“I said close your eyes, dove.” 

You don’t know how Remus knows, but this time you comply. Quiet settles like a blanket over the four of you, the only sound the rhythmic swishing of fabric as Sirius’ hand moves over your back. He smells like his conditioner. You read the label once. It’s called Lilac Breeze, but its aroma is more complex than that, you think. It’s clove, and it’s midnight, and it’s Sirius, something fundamental to him that makes your breaths deepen and your mind settle. Remus nestles closer behind you, his cinnamony scent wafting over you and intertwining with Sirius’ until you’re doped up on loveliness. Every inch of you has warmed now, and your head sinks further into the pillow. Tension you didn’t realize you’d been holding in your hips and shoulders dissipates. Everything is warm and dark and soft. 

You realize you’re yawning too late to stifle the sound, and James chuckles. “Not tired, huh?”

“Shuddup,” you murmur. Sirius’ breath fans hot over your forehead as he laughs silently, his hand never faltering on your back. You think you feel a kiss against the back of your head, and that’s the last thing you know before you fade into unconsciousness.

[brucewaynehater101]

Okay, you know that hc where Tim Reincarnates as The Trash of the Bat Family? It got me thinking of him scamming and making the "Real League of Assassins". He integrates Pru, Z and Owens early, makes them his people (or assassins disguised as servants).

"Where's the coffee?"

Owens, pouring chamomile tea, "We're all out of coffee, Sir."

"Energy drinks?"

Pru, throwing a trash bag away. "All gone too, Sir."

He integrates Kon before he experiences the SA with Tana Moon and other ladies, and Kon becomes his bodyguard.

"Are we doing something bad?"

"Oh, we're doing something veeeeery bad. To Lex Luthor."

Tim rescuing Damian.

"You're Damian Al Ghul Wayne. You're an Al Ghul and a Wayne. You can do whatever you want. I'm not taking care of you."

Damian, not trusting this lying bastard, secretly follows him around. Tim knows Damian is, and begrudgingly just accepts Damian into his fold until he reaches Gotham again.

"If you die, Timothy, I will dominate the world, kill everyone, and then myself."

I love these additions so much!!!

The "Real League of Assassins" is such a petty name, and I live for it. Just Tim as a kid and his little League of Assassins (depending on how far back he went into the past and how soon he aquires the OG best assassin squad). It would be double hilarious if his "Real League of Assassins" doesn't actually kill anyone, but I also respect Tim's right to commit murder however he deems fit. I like to imagine how mad Ra's would get at the name.

Part of Tim's asshole cover comes from Pru. There's two ways this can go. One, Pru is her complete self in front of everyone (she will break someone's nose no matter their price tag). This causes major scandals and issues for Tim cause how could he hire someone who behaves like that? Or Two, Pru is creepily pleasant and respectful around other company, and Tim continues to act like usual around her. This causes people to pity Pru for having such a horrible boss.

I also live for Bodyguard Kon AUs. You know the two of them are playing a "I know your sickly Victorian child looking ass can beat me up, but I will pretend I don't know this until you tell me why" with a "please stop saving me from every small things because I know you know a sunburn isn't going to kill me." It's dealer's choice on how soon Kon finds out about Tim's vigilante gig. Also, if Kon is a bodyguard in this, is he also Superboy or the equivalent? Does he become a superhero once he finds out about Tim's heroism? There's no way Kon would stick around Tim if he believed the persona Tim kept up.

Cue Tim accidentally forming the YJ again, but this time it's hidden from the JL radars and is a closely guarded secret.

As far as Damian, I absolutely love that quote you included. It's so Damian coded and I live for him threatening to take over the world. I also want to see Tim's reaction and how concerned he is over Damian threatening to kill himself. As an older brother, he legit could care less about Damian managing to kill the entire world. It's Damian wanting to die that scares him.

As far as the AU, Tim is trying so hard to distance himself from the Waynes that his dumbass shouldn't have picked up Damian in person. He was probably too anxious to leave it to someone else, but now he has a tiny suspicious assassin who reluctantly became fond of him.

There's a few different ways this can play out.

One, Tim picks up Damian in his vigilante costume and never unmasks to Damian. The little tot starts to think of this vigilante as maybe a brother before being given to Bruce (angst of abandonment tied with identity shenanigans. How soon does Damian realize that Timothy "Trash" Drake is the one to save him from the League?).

Two, Tim starts off with his secret identity in tact but reveals himself while traveling back. They bond, Damian is left at Bruce's, and, to the surprise of literally all the Waynes, the kid is seen constantly talking to the complete jerk Timothy Drake. Damian is actually nicer to this douchebag stranger than he is to some of his family members. What's equally shocking is how kind Tim is to Damian. Tim hasn't been cruel to children before, but he hasn't gone out of his way to be nice either. This cues investigations into Tim by the batfam.

Three, Damian refuses to go live with his dad and sticks around Tim when they return to Gotham. Depending on when Tim rescues Damian, Tim's fake uncle adopts Damian, and they become brothers legally. When Bruce finds out Damian is his son, he doesn't take the excuse, "I found him on the streets!" from Tim seriously.

[juuuulez]

mikey is such a cutie patootie!! i imagine that his family all really love you (and maybe pin too much hope on you to ‘save’ him) so at holidays everyone’s just so sweet to you. everyone knows they can joke or make snide comments at mikey, but god forbid anyone goes after you (uncle lee made the mistake of accusing you of drugs too. it’s a good thing donna totaled her car because otherwise lee would be fucked up)

and idk mikey can be so sweet i know he can!! you’re kind of the pete to his sugar in a way

literally agree like he just needs HIS person and he would be so proud to show you off

a berzatto christmas is chaotic but you’ll quickly learn how to handle that energy, knowing it’s just common for them. everyone (or at least most of them) treat you well, and sometimes you’re even enough to diffuse the tensest of situations.

“hey! your hookers here!” uncle lee will shout when you walk through the door, not so much an announcement to mikey as it is to the room, something to gain a reaction. thankfully he isn’t around right now, for that would be the beat-down of the century.

you offer lee a thin smile, knowing by this point not to engage. “merry christmas to you, too.”

the house is warm and alive with energy, everyone you pass throwing a greeting your way. natalie stops you for a hug, her hands smoothing down your dress and making a comment about how nice it looks, but “aren’t you cold, sweetheart? did you drive here? we’ll get you a coat for later, okay?”

on the way to the kitchen, you have to physically evade richie’s hand coming to mess with your hair. it’s been perfectly done up for the occasion and his big hand serves as an obstacle, wanting to ruffle it like usual.

you huff and swat his arm away, ducking quickly through the door and missing the glare it earns him from tiff.

finally, you make it into the kitchen. it’s disorganised and messy, pots overflowing, spoons left on the counter. carmy is trying to reign in the situation, in his own silent way, not wanting to cause any additional tension.

“hey, d.” you greet donna from behind, who was too caught up in whatever to notice your arrival. she turns around with an exasperated noise, both her hands finding your shoulders before moving to your cheeks.

“how are you?” she asks, but is talking before you can get a response in. “i was reading this magazine, and there was this model, and i swear, it looked— hey! hands off!”

whatever tangent donna was on is interrupted as carmy goes to stir a pot, to which she bats his hands away, going on about its contents and how it needs to simmer.

“it smells good in here!” you chirp, a smile on your face as you open the fridge.

“wine,” donna continues, “did you want some wine? here, sweetheart. let me pour you a glass.”

“no, no, i’m okay!” you quickly interject, already having found a cold bottle from the fridge. “beer is good, beer will be fine.”

she makes an offhanded comment about needing to “treat yourself to something nice” and not drinking “cheap garbage.” meanwhile, donna continues pouring the aforementioned glass, only to sip from it herself while she cooks.

you take about three gulps of the beverage before footsteps bring another presence to attention. it’s always easy to hear mikey before seeing him, for he’s often already yelling to you from the other room. this time it’s a call of your name, loud and warm, so you flutter closer to the doorway to meet him.

“hey,” you greet with a smile, hands reaching for the fabric of his sweater while his find your hips. “you look good. like this colour on you.”

“says you,” mikey will quip back. “this fuckin’ dress on you, jesus. tryna’ kill a man, huh?”

it gets a giggle out of you, cheeks flushing red at the blatant compliments despite the others in the room. it was something you were still adjusting to: showing love so casually and shamelessly no matter the circumstances, like it was the only thing that mattered.

“merry christmas, bear.” you coo, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

it earns a squeeze of your hips, mikey moving to kiss back. “merry christmas, baby.”

“can you guys please fuckin’ move.” carmy snaps suddenly.

the peace is again broken, with donna scolding him and going on and on about something you pay no mind to. it onto causes carmy to heat up further, complaining about how you’re both in the way in that usual overwhelmed sense.

mikey doesn’t help, chiming in with his own remark. “oh, is our affection ruining your flow? you know what your problem is, you gotta chill out. it’s christmas, and you’re fuckin’ wound up—”

“okay, okay. we will move. let carmy have his peace.” you interrupt him, trying to save the conversation by giving mikey a little push to usher him out of the kitchen. it works, thankfully, for the second that he spots richie he’s going on again about some other story you’re sure you’ve already heard, but is somehow relevant right now.

[moon1833]

OBSESSED- Yuuta Okkotsu

“I’m sorry, I tried to be patient.”

Inc: Female reader, reader is a jujitsu sorcerer, obsessive Yuuta, mildly yandere Yuuta, reader is lowkey just as insane, smut, 18+ characters, p in v, beach sex, post resurrection sex, biting, mentions of blood

There was something so deeply different about Yuuta Okkotsu. Maybe it was how his very existence changed your entire knowledge of jujitsu sorcery, or how he carried the second most intense cursed energy you've felt in your life, you weren't sure. Maybe it had something to do with his pretty doe eyes.

When you first met Okkotsu when you were seventeen, you would've thought he was too delicate for this world. He was a sweet boy, he didn't look you in the eyes for a month when he first arrived at Jujitsu High. He baked for his classmates, and he makes you come to his dorm if he's unfortunate enough to find a bug of any sort in his room.

As you got to know him, you noticed something else, something heroic. Besides that, there was something almost deviant deep within him.

That was why you believed he would become one of the greatest sorcerers of your time; he was crazy.

It wasn't so obvious at first. Okkotsu wasn't flashy or loud, even if the cursed spirit practically leeching off of him was so powerful it was almost headache inducing.

The first time you knew he was utterly batshit, was about a year after you had met him.

Being a grade one sorcerer meant you went on almost every mission with him, not that you minded in the slightest. In this particular mission, you were coming off of a leg injury, and you probably shouldn't have been cleared as early as you had been.

There was still a small limp in your steps and your mind was a bit foggy. That, along with your minor crush on the boy beside you had completely distracted you from the giant curse breaking through the ground beneath you, catching you in your grasp.

You hardly had time to recognize it, one second you were peacefully admiring Yuuta's side profile, not a trace of cursed energy that didn't belong to you or his around you, and the next there was a thick hand grasping you to it's chest, mumbling a soft "mine, mine, mine" as it dragged you away.

In your defense, this was definitely not the second grade curse you were sent out to exercise. Even at the time, your senses told you so. You hardly had a moment to register a plan to escape the curses hold before its grip loosens, and you're falling to the ground.

The winds knocked from your lungs, but you jump to your feet quickly, ready to fight the curse before it could get to Yuuta. Instead, you're met with the sight of a limp body, chunky purple blood pouring from what looked like its head was.

It was a rat. A giant, furry, ten-foot tall rat.

To the left of it stood Yuuta, panting while facing away from you. From your position, you could see his katana drawn, blood leaking from its blade. You’re confused for a moment, Rika hadn’t been let out at all, so how could he possibly have moved that quickly?

He turns to you, the sickly innocent smile on his face that you know so well not even twitching. Your eyes flickered to his hand, only now taking notice of the fat head he's grasping by the scalp.

Yuuta always smiled at you when he saw you. Not a cheap one, either. Always, and eager, molar showing, bright grin that felt out of place in your world.

This one was a bit different. There was a small darkness lingering in his dimples, almost playfully. Like it was amusing to him that something thought it could just take you like that.

He threw the head to the side, jogging up to you to check if you were okay. His hand flew to your torso, grazing your stomach. Only then did you realized you had been bleeding there, the rat-curse's nails must've dug past your shirt and into your skin when it grabbed you.

Still, his hands on your bare torso made your heartbeat pick up, especially when his touch was so gentle.

He flushed when he realized, and your mind almost felt numb with how fast his emotions had changed in the last two minutes. It almost made you forget about how his cute, fragile persona melted away into something so sinister.

If you were any more sane than Yuuta, you would've been afraid. If you were any more sane, you wouldn't of replayed how his head tilted, how a little blood made it's way onto his face, how his knuckles tightened around the mangled head in his hands. If you were any more sane, you wouldn't have finger-fucked yourself the moment you got back to your dorm.

But, the truth was, there were no sane sorcerers, and you were no exception.

The second time you bore witness to Yuuta loosing complete control was about a full year later.

A lot had changed, but him being your mission partner didn’t. You two were taking on a curse that would usually be left to Gojo, but instead ended up in your hands.

You studied the limited information in front of you, drowning out the crowd of people on the train. Yuuta sat next to you, pretending to read the document over your shoulder while he breathed in your scent.

The case had sent you to the edge of Tokyo, seven people had gone missing under suspicion circumstances from a nearby beach.

You had theorized with Gojo about what it could be, but he was even less help than expected. It didn’t help that it was almost midnight, and you hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours.

Yuuta must’ve sensed your drowsiness, because he took the document from your grasp, a glint of concern on his expression.

“Get some rest, we still have another hour and a half before we get there.” His voice is so clear against your ears it almost jolts you awake. Instead, you nod, letting your head lay against the seat.

When your eyes flutter close, Yuuta feels a new sense of protection overwhelming him. You trusted him enough to put yourself in a position of complete vulnerability. He widens his legs slightly, a small glare looking over the crowd.

The train hits a curve, and your head lolls uncontrollably to the side. Gently, Yuuta places his shoulder under your temple. Gladly, you nuzzle your face into him, finding a comfortable position before drifting off again.

For the next 87 minutes, he did not take his eyes off of you.

-

You yawned stepping away from the tracks, half aware of your grip on Yuuta’s sleeve. He seemed happy leading you out of the station like this, and you were too tired to object.

When the cold air hits you, there’s a slight regret in your choice of clothing. The jacket you had over your long sleeve button down did less than you had anticipated, and even your thickest tights weren’t doing much under your skirt. You were going to be freezing when you got to the water.

The sand made your balance a little wobbly as you walked, the night sky reflecting sharply against the ocean waves.

Even with the coldness racking through you, the lingering cursed energy was stronger. Whatever was here was definitely at least a grade one.

Starting your investigation, you began walking down the coast while trying to keep your skirt from drifting up.

“It’s in the ocean.” You conceded, calling back over your shoulder.

In the dark, you can see Yuuta narrow his eyes in thought. “Let’s check out the dock.”

You nod in agreement, falling into step with him. The dock went about 100 feet past the shore, but it was old and creaky.

With each step, you felt closer and closer to the curse, using your technique to form a throwing knife and letting it rest in your palm.

Suddenly, the energy increases so dramatically it almost knocks the breath out of you, and thunder cracked above your head.

You summon another knife, coming into stance as something emerges from the water. It’s hard to tell in the darkness, and for a moment you thought it was a lump of stretched out skin.

Normally, you’d like more time to assess the situation, especially when you can hardly see what you’re throwing at, but you had figured out already if the curse got you or Yuuta in the water you’d be in trouble.

You weren’t sure, but the lightening above you probably had something to do with the curse, and no bodies had been recovered.

You threw the knife, aiming to take off one of its limbs. You succeeded, the appendage falling off completely in a sickly sound.

You didn’t have time to congratulate yourself, because by the time you had realized you had hit the curse, the arm had grown back.

Behind you, the dock ripped open, a plank of wood hitting you in the back. Another arm had crashed through, a giant hole pushing you and Yuuta. He called out your name, but the blood was rushing to your ears so violently you almost couldn’t hear him.

“I’m okay!” You shouted, but before you could add anything else, something wrapped around your feet and dragged you upside down. Instead of fearing for your life, you were thankful you wore shorts under your skirt.

Now that you were practically face to face with the curse, you realized it was a giant fucking octopus. It had one eye, but it was completely black and didn’t reflect light at all. Its skin was an inky black, and it’s numerous tentacles stretched it’s rot-like scent further towards you.

From behind you, you could hear Yuuta scaling its side, his katana making repeated contact with its flesh.

You thrashed around, throwing more knives while trying to aim for its eye. The curse only seemed mildly aggravated, another tentacle wrapping around your torso and trailing up your throat.

Your head was pulsing, and your arms were pinned to your side. You could only use your technique with your hands, so your only option was to cut off its limb and fall into the electrically charged water, or let it choke you to death.

So, basically, die either way.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Yuuta jump, landing his katana in its iris and using his weight to drag it down.

The curse screamed, and that was the last thing you heard before your body slammed into the water.

You were right, the water was fucking cold. Not only, but you felt like you had fallen onto concrete, and the tentacle was still clasped around you.

You tried to pry it off, but it only constricted. You held onto hope that somehow Yuuta would get to you, since he had obviously killed the curse before you hit the water. It was dark, completely black and you couldn’t see your own body when you looked down.

Even as you sunk deeper and deeper, you didn’t doubt for a moment you would die. You couldn’t, Yuuta wouldn’t let you.

When your vision begins to fade and your legs feel blurry, the thought is only an echo in your mind.

Yuuta won’t let you die. And he doesn’t.

Not when he finally grasps you, ripping the tentacle around you into shreds with his bare hands. Not when he holds you while he swims towards the surface, ignoring how cold your flesh is. Not when you resurface, and you’re not breathing.

Yuuta’s acting before he’s thinking. He could use his reversed cursed technique, but that wouldn’t do anything about the water in your lungs. Your lips are blue. Yuuta’s beginning to panic.

He starts doing compressions, not stopping when he feels your rib break, or when he remembers how unreliable cpr is outside of a hospital.

He doesn’t stop because eventually, your upper body lurches forward, and water falls from your mouth.

His arms are around you in a second, and you momentarily think the octopus curse is still wrapped around you with how tightly he’s holding you.

Yuuta is warm, and you’re freezing. You cling to him, your body trembling as the early signs of hypothermia begin to start.

He pulls away, holding your face in his hands. There’s a look of concern you’ve seen him wear thousands of times, but it’s more crazed. More wild. For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you, but instead be begins to heal you.

Immediately, you stop shaking, heat flooding from your face down your spine. Yuuta has used his reversed cursed technique on you more times than you can count, claiming he didn’t want to give Shoko any more work, but you never got use to how intimate it felt.

Your jacket is long removed, and your shirt is sticking to your skin. You can see your bra through the thin material, and you’re a little embarrassed when you catch his eyes lingering.

Yuuta’s in a similar state as you. His white tee shirt was soaked, and his hair was sticking to his face. You felt his forehead with your palm, frowning in concern at his temperature.

His eyes changed. God, only you would be worried about him when moments ago your heart had stopped.

Only now did he notice his position, how close your lips were to his. He couldn’t take it. That thing almost got you before he could even make you his.

“Yuu, what is it?” It was a simple question, with a complicated answer, but the nickname pushed him over the edge.

He ducks his head closer to you, breaking the distance. He felt your lips moments ago, but they were frigid and lifeless. Now, you kissed him back with such fever it would’ve knocked him off balance if he wasn’t already sitting.

He’s climbing on top of you before he can register it, and your back hits the sand. You moan into his mouth in encouragement, shifting your hips up to meet his.

“Fuck, I can’t wait.” He whimpers into your neck. “Please let me fuck you, please.”

You nod before he finishes his sentence, muttering a broken ‘god yes’ that’s interrupted by your own moan as he attaches his lips to your neck.

He keeps licking at your collarbones and you’re withering under him. You’re unsure if it has something to do with his reversal technique, but everything feels too good.

You drag his hand to your clit, forcing him to palm you through your shorts. He slides them off, cursing as they stick to your legs before diving back down, shoving your panties to the side to feel you.

His fingers are long, and they’re surprisingly soft, even with his callouses. He rubs at your clit, dragging down to collect your slick before repeating his slow circles.

Subconsciously, you grind yourself onto his hand, eager for more friction.

“I’m sorry, I tried to be patient.” He mumbles against your shoulder before thrusting his middle finger into you.

A rough groan leaves your throat, and you attach your lips to Yuuta’s neck in effort to muffle your sounds. You bit down on his skin a little too harshly, drawing a small bit of blood. Instead of wincing in pain, he whimpered into you in wild excitement, pushing his jugular closer to your incisors.

He’s finger fucking you harshly, your pussy sucking him in loudly, drowning out the crashing of the waves a few feet from you.

“Gonna cum- shit.” You try to warn, but your orgasm reaches you closer than you anticipated. Yuuta fucks you through it, your legs trembling and chest heaving.

You’re still recovering when you hear him slide his pants off, pressing kisses to your face when he lines himself up against you. He pushes your legs over his shoulders, slipping into you so easily it makes you gasp for air.

He thrusts into you slowly, each time inching into you more and more. Water falls from his hair and drips onto your face in between each stroke, and you’re singing his name.

“Love you.” He kisses your forehead. “I love you so much. I can’t loose you. I won’t. You’re everything to me.”

His words are soft, but sudden, laced with a near obsessive tone that makes you squeeze down on his dick even harder.

“I love you so much, Yuu.” He plants one last kiss to your lips before pounding so harshly into you it forces you deeper into the sand.

He keeps his pace, fucking you at an animalistic speed. His eyes are crazed, wide and focused while trying to study how your body responds to him. His lips quiver, stuttering out strings of curses that tells you he’s completely gone already, and he’s not stopping any time soon.

He cums in you, but he doesn’t let that stop him, continuing to rut into you even as he overstimulates himself. “Gonna fill you up. Fuck-I can’t stop.”

“Need it!” You cry, heavy tears falling from your cheeks. Yuuta notices immediately, licking them without a second thought.

He keeps fucking his cum into you, not stopping at the second load, or the third. Only until he behind to shoot blanks does he slow, holding your body gently as he pulls out.

“I’m sorry, was that too much?” His head is fuzzy.

“No, no.” You brush his hair out of his eyes. “Was so good, Yuuta.”

He collapses on top of you, and you draw circles on his back. You smile, watching the stars in the sky for a moment before speaking.

“How are we going to get back to campus?”

“Uh,” Yuuta thinks aloud, propping his head up. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll call Gojo.” He nuzzles his head back into your chest.

“Okay.” You giggle, kissing his head. Yuuta Okokotsu was insane, but so were you.

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning, fem reader

chapter warnings/tags: lil bit of angst, choso is slowly becoming our man, sukuna's a dick, suggestive themes A/N: not gonna lie, I'm not entirely sure I like this part (,,>﹏<,,) maybe it's just cause I know eventually the truth has to come out and we're getting there but if you guys like it that's what matters! sukuna is gonna keep that stick up his ass for a while longer, but choso is coming through in the meantime. (｡- .•) index part eight | part ten

part nine word count: 3,331

“all I wanted to do today was enjoy the hike, go for a swim, and then come back to roast marshmallows,” you pouted, leaning heavily against the cool kitchen countertop. the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Megumi and Nobara sipped their mugs, listening with amusement to your morning complaints.

“then all of a sudden, I hear this agitating, grating voice,” you continued, your annoyance building.

“if there’s no coffee left, I might just kill someone.” that voice sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. Sukuna appeared in the doorway, looking like a creature dragged straight from the depths of hell.

“morning, Sukuna! did you not get enough beauty rest on the couch, or is that just your usual face?” Nobara teased with a grin, bravely challenging the morning grump. but you knew better; the morning version of Sukuna was not to be trifled with.

his eyes snapped toward her, a dark glint flickering in his crimson irises. that look usually spelled instant death, but luckily for Nobara, he merely grumbled something incoherent before snatching the coffee pot and pouring himself a generous mug.

“okay, everyone ready to go?” Yuji’s cheerful voice broke the tension as he strolled into the kitchen. he halted abruptly in the doorway, sensing the charged atmosphere. “Sukuna, are you coming too?”

Sukuna shrugged and nodded, an almost lazy gesture. “yep, figured you guys would need some muscle if a bear or something shows up to eat you.”

you rolled your eyes, already anticipating how his presence would cast a shadow over your fun and keep you on edge throughout the day. just as you considered feigning illness to avoid the trip, a warm hand settled on your shoulder.

turning to see Choso, you were greeted by his soft smile, which provided a momentary distraction from the tension.

“got everything you need?” he asked, his voice calm and reassuring. just then, a loud clatter echoed as Sukuna, irritated, dropped his mug into the sink, arms crossed tightly across his chest.

“yeah, I’ve got everything in my backpack,” you replied, focusing back on Choso. without hesitation, he reached down, lifting your bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“you don’t have to carry it; I can do it,” you protested, trying to reclaim some independence.

Choso shook his head firmly, a determined look in his eyes as he gripped the bag’s strap. “no biggie, I’ve got it covered.”

“well isn’t that just so peachy of you, Choso.” Sukuna bit out from his spot, watching the scene unfold before him as his blood began to boil. “you know that’s not gonna get you in her pants.”

at his last sentence spoken, your entire body tensed. what the hell was he saying? no, surely he didn’t mean to allude to… no way. if he did, Choso didn’t seem to catch on, only ignoring Sukuna’s remark and taking your hand before pulling you from your seat.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

as the group emerged from the cabin, Yuji led the way with Megumi at his side, their laughter mingling with the fresh morning air. you strolled alongside Nobara, her energy infectious as you both matched each other’s pace. Choso chose to position himself behind you, his presence steady and reassuring, while Sukuna lingered at the back, the weight of his gaze making you acutely aware of his watchful eyes. you couldn't tell if it was Sukuna’s intensity that made you feel so exposed, but it sent an unmistakable chill down your spine.

“hey, I’ve got a question for you,” Nobara suddenly said, breaking the comfortable rhythm of your conversation. you had been chatting to distract yourselves from the uphill trek. “I know I can’t stand Sukuna, and neither can Megumi… but what’s really eating at you?”

you swallowed hard, a mix of needing breath and feeling a surge of nerves. “living with him has shown me he’s a bigger jerk than I expected,” you replied, skirting the edges of the truth without quite lying.

Nobara’s expression sharpened. “I’ve had my suspicions ever since you moved in. even before, he looked at you like you were just a piece of meat.” she met your gaze, and you offered a weak shrug, not wanting to dive deeper into the topic. “maybe I’m overreacting, but he’s been acting especially strange around you lately.”

“who knows? maybe he’s just dealing with some pent-up issues,” you said, hoping to steer the conversation away from uncomfortable territory.

to your surprise, Nobara reached out and intertwined her fingers with yours, her grip warm and reassuring. “you know, Yuji told us about… what happened to you.”

your heart sank at the thought of your pink-haired friend sharing your secret. “oh, he did?”

“mhm,” Nobara nodded, her tone shifting to something more serious. “if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”

a wave of warmth washed over you at her kind offer. “thanks, I really appreciate it,” you replied, genuinely touched.

Nobara paused, her brows furrowing as if searching for the right words. you held your breath, silently praying she wouldn’t put the pieces together.

“has Sukuna… done something to you?” her question hit you like a blow, the air leaving your lungs in a rush.

fortunately, just as you were about to respond, Yuji called out from ahead, “we’re here!” his cheerful shout broke the tension, and both you and Nobara turned to see the stunning view before you.

it was breathtaking. a sprawling forest alive with vibrant colors and the sounds of chirping birds, framed by an almost otherworldly white mountain rising in the distance. below lay a sparkling lake that looked like it had been plucked straight from a painting.

“first one to the water is a rotten egg!” Yuji exclaimed, and without hesitation, Nobara tugged you along, her grip firm as she pulled you down a gentle slope, chasing after Megumi and Yuji. you were worried about stumbling or spraining an ankle but somehow managed to keep pace with her through the thick underbrush.

once the four of you reached the water’s edge, Yuji glanced back, impatiently waiting for Choso and Sukuna to catch up. Choso looked mildly relieved to see everyone safe, while Sukuna trailed behind, his expression a blend of irritation and indifference, as if the world had no right to intrude on his mood.

“everyone wore their swimsuits, right?” Megumi asked, already yanking off his shirt as Yuji followed suit, eager to dive in. you couldn’t help but envy the ease with which the guys could wear their swimsuits as shorts.

“on it, boss!” Nobara replied, finally releasing your hand so you could change out of your clothes. you were grateful you’d opted to wear your swimsuit underneath; the thought of trying to change in the dense brush surrounding you was daunting.

once you’d shed your shirt and shorts, you stood at the water's edge, watching as Megumi and Yuji splashed into the calm lake. your gaze shifted to Choso, who stood nearby with his hands on his hips, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he stole glances at you.

“look at that, you’ve got him flustered,” Sukuna remarked from behind you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“what the hell is your problem?” you snapped, turning to confront him directly.

“whoa, calm down,” Sukuna laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “looks like someone needs to cool off.”

“Sukuna, don’t—” Choso began, sensing trouble, but before he could finish, Sukuna lunged at you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and effortlessly hoisted you over his shoulder.

“Sukuna! put me down!” you shouted, struggling against his hold, but he was already sprinting toward the water, dragging you along for the ride.

“time to go for a swim!” he declared, his tone gleeful.

the shock of icy water enveloped you as he leaped in, fully submerging you. when Sukuna finally released his grip, you kicked your way to the surface, sputtering and gasping for air. as soon as you broke through, Nobara was by your side, concern etched on her face.

“what the fuck?” Nobara hissed at Sukuna as she helped push your damp hair from your face.

“ah, lighten up! I was just helping her cool off,” Sukuna shrugged off her concern, rolling his eyes at what he deemed theatrics.

you shot him a glare as icy as the water around you, but you couldn’t shake the warmth lingering on your skin where his hands had just been—close to the same spots where bruises had healed not long ago.

“don’t you ever—ever—touch me like that again,” you growled, your voice low and intense. for a fleeting moment, you caught a flicker of hurt in Sukuna’s expression before he masked it with his usual smugness.

meanwhile, Choso was wading through the water, concern etched across his face as he approached you. he nudged Sukuna aside, determined to reach you as you stood shoulder-deep in the lake.

“are you okay? did you get any water in your lungs?” Choso asked anxiously, his hand gently resting on your arm beneath the surface.

“I’m fine,” you replied, finally tearing your gaze away from Sukuna to meet Choso’s worried eyes. “just didn’t hold my breath soon enough.”

the rest of the outing unfolded as you had expected. every time you began to enjoy yourself with your friends, Sukuna would swim over and ruin the moment. it was one thing when Yuji playfully dunked you, but the moment you spotted Sukuna approaching, you instinctively swam closer to Nobara or Megumi.

Choso chose to sit on the rocks, content to watch the chaos unfold, but deep down, he felt it gave him a better vantage point to keep an eye on both you and Sukuna. he couldn’t help but feel a visceral sting every time Sukuna got close to you, and after seeing your reaction to being touched by him Choso felt an anger bubbling inside of him.

it was clear that Sukuna was making you uncomfortable, but Choso couldn’t quite grasp why. sure, you had always seemed a little uneasy with his remarks, but you typically shot back with your usual wit, if not a sharper retort. so why were you suddenly shrinking away from him, your confidence seemingly slipping through your fingers?

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

after a mostly silent walk back to the cabin, Choso observed as you disappeared into your shell, that familiar unsettling feeling creeping back into his gut. dinner was a quiet affair for you; you participated only half-heartedly, your eyes lighting up briefly when Megumi and Yuji stepped outside to start a fire.

once they were gone, you found solace on the porch, relishing the quiet that enveloped you. a cold drink rested in your hands, and you took several too-big gulps, hoping that it would help settle your frayed nerves. the air was fresh and calm, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling inside you.

from around the corner, you could hear Yuji and Megumi exchanging flirty banter as they gathered firewood. their laughter made your heart swell with happiness, but it also ached with longing. you had wanted that joy for yourself—it was why you had played along with Sukuna’s teasing and advances. had it all really been for nothing but pain?

“hey, you seem quiet tonight,” Choso’s voice broke through your thoughts, making you jump slightly. you turned to see him leaning against the frame of the sliding door, arms crossed and a concerned look on his face. he had been standing there for a while, silently watching you.

once you acknowledged his presence, he shut the door behind him and moved to sit in the chair next to you, creating a small, comforting space.

“guess I’m just tired from the hike and swimming,” you replied, but deep down you knew Choso could see through your half-truths. he had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book.

he leaned in slightly, his fingertip gently tapping your temple, prompting you to look at him with a puzzled expression. he smiled warmly, his eyes searching yours. “tell me what’s going on in there,” he urged softly, his tone inviting you to open up.

“I guess…” you trailed off, searching for the right words to avoid revealing the real reason for your distress. “it seems like Yuji and Megumi are getting closer, in the best way possible, and I just… I want that. I want someone to look at me like that.”

as you peeked around the corner, your heart warmed at the sight of Yuji’s smile growing wider with every word that spilled from Megumi’s lips. Choso sat beside you, his gaze steady and observant, quietly taking in your reactions.

you hadn’t noticed how Choso looked at you—how his eyes held a depth of understanding and warmth that seemed to radiate whenever you spoke about your feelings. he was aware of your crush on Sukuna; it was something you hadn’t concealed particularly well over the years. in your moments of longing, you had overlooked the way Choso’s admiration glimmered beneath the surface, waiting for you to notice.

“you’ll find it,” Choso said, his voice soft and reassuring. you turned to face him, your heart skipping a beat as his intense gaze seemed to pierce straight through you, laying your soul bare. butterflies erupted in your stomach, but you quickly dismissed the thought—surely, that wasn’t what he meant.

“maybe,” you whispered, still trying to absorb the moment. you had been foolish enough to fall for one brother; the idea of risking your heart again felt ridiculous. right?

Choso’s fingers brushed against yours, resting on the arm of the chair, and a warm spark shot through both of you at the gentle contact. were you really that blind to the feelings around you?

just as you were about to speak, to finally voice the thoughts swirling in your mind, the sliding door swung open with a loud bang, startling you and causing you to jump in your seat. a chuckle from behind you made your heart drop.

“well, isn’t this just sweet?” Sukuna snickered, his mouth curving into a tight smirk.

“shouldn’t you be off somewhere scaring children?” Choso snapped, rolling his eyes at the intrusion. he couldn’t help but feel a surge of irritation. watching you retreat into yourself in Sukuna’s presence made him mentally curse the other man for making you feel that way.

“seems like the only person I’m scaring is y/n.” Sukuna responded with a tone equally as bitter. his eyes landed on you, watched as you tried to make yourself seem smaller, and he tsked. “not sure why, considering-”

“guys, fires going so come grab your marshmallows!” Yuji’s voice rang out, the saving bell to the heart attack you were about to experience. you quickly shot from your seat, desperately wanting to leave the situation laid in front of you.

but Choso had other plans. he rose from his seat with you, hand reaching out and roughly grabbing Sukuna’s shirt. you froze in place, watching Choso eyes go almost dark. “considering what?” Choso snarled, his brows furrowed in anger.

“what’s going on?” Yuji approached slowly. Megumi and Nobara followed, examining the scene before them.

“don’t worry about it.” Sukuna answered Choso with a wicked smirk. you realized this was his intent, to rile Choso up and start something you didn’t want to see finished.

“if you were thinking about disrespecting y/n, don’t.” Choso warned him. Yuji looked over at you in concern, and you felt Nobara’s hand gently rest on your shoulder.

your heart was racing in your chest, threatening to explode altogether. this couldn’t be it, right? Sukuna wouldn’t reveal something to everyone all at once – would he?

but as Sukuna grinned, his eyes lighting up with mischievous intent, you realized he could.

“considering that school girl crush she’s had. she’s probably like a cat in heat around me.” the atmosphere thickened with tension, and you could feel every heartbeat pounding in your ears. Sukuna’s smirk widened as he reveled in the chaos he had created. “what? you’re all so serious,” he taunted, glancing between Choso and Yuji, clearly enjoying the disruption.

Choso stepped closer, his jaw clenched tight. “you think this is a joke?”

“I’m just pointing out facts. isn’t that right, y/n?” Sukuna’s eyes locked onto yours, and the way he said your name felt like a threat. your breath caught in your throat as you considered what he might say next.

“don’t drag her into this,” Choso shot back, his voice low but fierce. you could see the tension ripple through him, the muscles in his arms taut as he stood protectively in front of you.

Yuji and the others exchanged worried glances, uncertainty etched on their faces. “maybe we should just—” Megumi started, but his words were cut off by Sukuna’s dismissive wave.

“why don’t you just admit it, y/n?” Sukuna continued, his tone condescending. “you’re the one who keeps giving me mixed signals. you want my attention but then shy away. what’s it going to be?”

before your brain could fully register the chaos unfolding, Choso’s fist connected with Sukuna’s cheek with a sickening thud that echoed sharply in the air. you stood frozen, helpless, as Sukuna stumbled back, shock morphing into anger as he cradled his face on the ground.

“woah, okay, everyone calm down!” Yuji shouted, rushing forward to position himself between his brothers. he raised his hands in a placating gesture, desperately trying to diffuse the escalating tension. “you both need to cool off. Sukuna, go somewhere else for a bit and figure out how to not be an ass. Choso… just go sit by the fire.”

Sukuna rose to his feet, fury blazing in his eyes. he shot you a glare that felt like ice, then turned on his heel, storming back toward the cabin and slamming the door behind him. the echo of the door slamming resonated in the silence that followed, leaving a heavy weight in the air.

Choso’s attention immediately shifted to you. he stepped closer, his hand trembling as it reached up to rest gently on your cheek. “are you okay?” he asked softly, concern flooding his gaze. you nodded, though the words were trapped in your throat.

“let’s go make some marshmallows, yeah?” Choso suggested, a tentative smile breaking through his worry. he took your hand, leading you toward the campfire where the others were beginning to gather, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.

as you walked, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. this wasn’t what you had wanted—Choso didn’t need to defend you with a punch, you didn’t want to put your friends in an awkward situation, and most of all, you didn’t want to be haunted by the hurt that Sukuna’s actions had caused.

“I’m sorry for ruining the night,” you said quietly, glancing down as everyone turned their attention to you. the weight of their gazes felt heavy. “I didn’t want any of this to happen.”

Choso’s hand enveloped yours, offering warmth and reassurance, while Yuji’s expression softened as he looked at you. “it’s not your fault. we all know Sukuna likes to push people’s buttons,” he said, though you could sense the hollow comfort in his words.

“he shouldn’t have come,” Nobara added, rolling her eyes as she handed you a poker and a marshmallow. “if he hadn’t shown up, we’d be drunk and stuffed full of sugar right now.”

“can we… still get stuffed full of sugar?” you asked, a smile slowly creeping onto your lips, tentative but real.

Choso beamed at you, his eyes brightening. “of course we can.” he deftly skewered your marshmallow onto the stick, a playful glint in his gaze.

so there you sat, gathered around the fire, your friends doing their best to lift your spirits as you filled your gut with too many marshmallows. and feeling butterflies swarming every time your best friend’s brother smiled at you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko @csolya @deathlypink @sad-darksoul @elisedylandy if you'd like to be added to the taglist let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

[chasingpj]

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞

"Hi, my name's Nico!"

pairing: platonic!nico di angelo x older sister reader

summary: you found your pugsley addams

warnings: brief mention of injury, grieving a family member

category: one-shot but not really

a/n: this is probably awful but do i need to fulfil my big sister urge to protect our beloved nico? yes. yes i do. i got this idea listening to Here With Me by d4vd, if you want something to listen while reading <3

“Hi, my name is Nico!”

Tousled dark brown hair, big brown eyes, a toothless grin, and a squeaky voice. Strangely, he doesn’t cower at your eyes, sizing him up. Either he doesn’t care or he’s clueless to your judgment. You're sure it’s the latter. 

How could this tiny boy, with too much life in his eyes, and too much excitement in his voice be a child of Hades? Considering your father’s exciting track record with children, this wasn’t what you were expecting when Chiron mentioned you had a brother moving in soon.

He’s just so… lively. 

The blinding daylight outside poured through your agape curtains and it surrounded his small frame like a giant halo. 

The sight was violent.

It gave you a headache. 

“What’s your name?” He waits antsy for your answer and you debate on even giving him one. 

Father told you he didn’t have any living children besides you. Considering the boy in front of you, it was a lie, or he had forgotten about him. Either way, you plan on arguing about it later. 

How dare he give you a roommate. Let alone a roommate barely in the double digits. This boy could have a tantrum today, and you didn’t sign up for babysitting.

“My side.” Your fingers point to the left of the cabin which is furnished with a bed, shelves, a desk, and a nightstand you got shipped to camp. “Your side.” 

Lazily, you point to the right. The lone bunk bed that initially occupied the space is tucked there, ready for the roommate you never thought would arrive. 

After three years, you had debated on getting rid of it, maybe donating it to the Hermes cabin. Gods know they need it but you guess keeping it was the right choice. 

“Inside voice only. No laughing, no whining, no groaning, no screaming, and especially, no crying.” 

The boy’s face falters into a slight frown. Your unblinking, emotionless face had settled into his awareness. For the first time since he’s arrived, he looks down at his feet. “Okay.” 

Your vision follows his movements as the boy retreats to his side of the room. His suitcase drags across the floor, making a wretched sound and it shoots irritation straight into your chest. 

Harsh words threaten to spill from your lips but they get caught at the back of your throat.

At least he’s compliant, you consider. Better bubbly and compliant than bubbly and stubborn. 

★・・・・・・★

“Psst.”

Did you imagine it? The sound was so faint and quick, you weren’t sure if it even happened. 

Voices in passing weren’t foreign to you. The occasional energy likes to linger around. 

If it was that, you refused to spare a single movement to signal you heard anything at all. A bothersome ghost wasn’t really in your plans tonight. 

There wasn’t a twitch in your face or a pause in your breathing that gave you away. And as you do every night, you remain laid on your back, hands lightly folded and rested in the middle of your stomach. 

“PSST.” 

Great. 

The second time was filled with so much urgency you couldn’t conclude it as a trick of the ear. Suddenly, you’re filled with dread. And it wasn’t from the possibility that when opening your eyes, you may find an entity looming over you. Honestly, you wished that’s what you were expecting. At least then, you’d be more interested. 

But no, you knew the sound came from no one other than the pest who sleeps across the room. Even now, you are fully aware of his small presence beside your bed. 

You had to give him credit. At no point did you hear him approach.

A silent stride just like yours? Maybe you actually are related. 

“What?”

Nico tenses up, his hand flings back to his side. He was just questioning if you were even alive, judging from your barely rising chest. Not sure what to do after your lack of response, he thought giving you a little poke would get a reaction but from your tone just now, he was glad he didn’t get to test that out. “T-the statue…” Nico didn’t dare look over, gaze set on your blank face. “What about it?” “It blinked.” 

Nico rubs his sweaty palms on his pajama pants, feeling the looming presence of Hades's statue. 

The past few nights, while lying in his bed, he kept returning to the same conclusion. He couldn’t be the only one who thought sleeping in a room with a giant statue was kinda creepy. 

Sure, it was just stone, but at times, it felt like it was looking at him. He thought he was just imagining it at first. Bianca did say he had a habit of spooking himself out but it didn’t stop him from sleeping with the sheets over his head. 

Tonight, however, amongst the deliriousness of waking up, he made the mistake of looking over. His vision was hazy, but he was sure of what he saw. The statue had blinked. Clean and quick as if it was supposed to do that. It was more than he’s ever seen you blink, and he’s been with you for almost a week. 

“It does that sometimes.”  

“What?” Nico’s voice was laced with so much emotion you could imagine what face he was making. Behind your eyelids, you envisioned the scared face Mr. D made you identify recently in therapy. It was so comedic to you, you almost smiled. 

“Go back to sleep.” A whine immediately leaves Nico’s lips, and your hand moves up, arm bent at the elbow, your pointer finger in the air. “No whining.” “But—” “Still whining,” you point out, and Nico remains quiet for a moment. Taking consideration of his silent movements earlier, you assumed he retreated to bed, but as he cleared his throat, you wished you could roll your eyes with them closed. 

“I’m scared.”  

“And what do you want me to do about that?” 

“I don’t know. When I’m scared, my sister—” 

“I’m not your sister.” 

Nico frowns but remains in his spot unmoving. As the seconds passed, your awareness of his presence started to irk you.

“Ugh.” 

The tired glare on your face makes Nico cower, and you sling your legs to the side. Another sigh leaves you and you march over to his side of the room. He waits as you rip the fitted sheet from the top bunk and throw it over the statue. 

“There. Happy? He can’t stare at you if he can’t see you.” 

“Now it just looks like a ghost,” Nico shifts, fear still on his face.

There’s a smack as your palm meets your forehead. A child of Hades scared of a ghost? You were about to tell him to get used to it but before you can nag him an idea graces your mind. 

Quickly, you walk over to your desk, hands searching for a black marker. Once in your grasp, you drag a chair to the stone and stand on it. 

Two circles for the eyes and one smiling open mouth. 

Moving away to see your drawings, you decide it was a refreshing sight compared to the usually stoic face of the god. 

“Better?” you ask, tone still bored as you cap the marker.

Nico’s eyes light up, a smile growing wide on his face. Who would be scared of a happy ghost? He nods brightly, and you make your way down, eyes rolling at the entire situation. “Go to sleep,” you command, and Nico nods, more willing than he was a few minutes ago. As you both return to the covers, the boy glances across the room one more time. “Good night,” he calls, and you stare at him for a moment. 

He always says it despite you never saying it back. Under your gaze, he waits expectantly, but it never returns. Just as every night, you lie down without a word. 

★・・・・・・★

Capture the flag isn’t your cup of tea. 

In the summers, you never participated. The bright sun, the humidity, it all made you want to claw your skin off. 

Usually, you get out of it but Mr. D pointed out there was no reason not to participate since most of what you hate about it isn’t a problem this time of year. One comment from him and Chiron takes it upon himself to ensure you attend. 

You hated it. 

Forced to strategize with Thalia and Percy, you are reminded the weather wasn’t the only thing you despised. It was dealing with everyone else too.

"I'll take the offense," Thalia volunteered. "You take defense."

"Oh." Percy hesitated. "Don't you think with your shield and all, you'd be better defense?"

"Well, I was thinking it would make better offense," Thalia said. "Besides, you've had more

practice at defense. What do you think, Y/n?” 

Your gaze flickers between the two waiting expectantly for your opinion. 

The tension between them has been something else since they’ve come back from retrieving Nico and losing Annabeth in the process. It’s not like there wasn’t any tension before but right now, you can smell the power struggle and it stinks. 

“I don’t care. Argue amongst yourselves.” 

With that, you turn on your heels, looking for the boy who surprisingly isn’t standing behind you like a shadow. Your eyes search the crowd for a few seconds until you spot what looks like a pile of floating armor next to the Stoll’s. 

A small sigh leaves your lips. Whoever gave him that definitely is setting him up and judging by the poorly contained laughs of the Stoll’s, you can guess who’s rooting for Nico’s downfall. 

The boy, painfully unaware of this, just beams at you, too excited for the game ahead. Lazily, you make your way towards him and immediately, he’s bouncing happily, his mouth ready to bombard you with questions. 

Your palm rises before he could and he freezes, obeying your silent command. “You need to tighten that.” 

He looks down at himself, his helmet swinging down into his eyes and he struggles to pull it away. “Which part?” 

“All of it,” you snap. The sadness that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t have affected you but you straightened up, closing your eyes to recollect yourself. “We’ll get you better armor afterward.” 

Nico nods, gaze softening as you adjust the straps of his armor. You tug on them as much as you can, jerking the boy left to right with the movement. 

Once every strap couldn’t be tightened anymore, you step back to take a look. It didn’t do much but at least his plate is snug against his chest.

“Okay kid, stay out of the way and be careful with that thing.” Nico looks down at his sword, which is probably too heavy for him. “We need to get you another weapon too. Gods, who did your orientation?” 

Nico points over at the Stoll’s who are occupied with other campers. Sending a glare in their direction you huff, “Of course.” 

"Heroes!" Chiron calls, swiftly getting everyone’s attention. "You know the rules! The creek is the boundary line. Blue team—Camp Half-Blood—shall take the west woods. Hunters of Artemis—red team—shall take the east woods. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic. No intentional maiming, please! All magic items are allowed. To your positions!"

“Do I get magic items!?” Nico screeches causing you to cringe. Whipping your gaze in his direction, he cowers sheepishly, his eyes filled with hesitant apology.  “No. Remember what I said. Stay—” “Stay out of the way and be careful with my sword.” Nico finishes your sentence and he smiles at the evident distaste in your expression. 

Your eyes flicker along his frame. “And don’t get hurt.” 

★・・・・・・★

Nico, to no one’s surprise, got hurt. 

Honestly, you couldn’t be upset at him, it’s not his fault he got caught in a spell cast. 

A certain Circe camper did a fine job at missing her every target, leaving Nico standing in the outfield like a giant bullseye. The force alone sent him back a few feet and he slid across the field like a rag doll for a few more feet afterward.

As he lay there limp in shock, you genuinely thought he died. Before you could wield the ground to swallow up his attacker, he groaned and stumbled back on his feet. 

Lucky for her, disappointing for you. You haven’t gotten around to doing that trick in a while. 

“Well, you definitely have blunt force trauma injuries, everywhere,” Fletcher says, removing his hands from Nico’s abdomen. The boy reclined in the cot flinches at the bruises already forming along his ribs. 

It looked pretty bad. So much so that you decided it would be cruel to tell him to stop crying.

“But you don’t have internal bleeding in your lungs so at least you won’t drown in your own life source.” 

Despite the smile Fletcher flashes at Nico, it doesn’t affect the look of horror on his face. 

“Nothing Ambrosia and Nectar can’t fix. You’ll be fine in a couple of days.” Fletcher helps the small boy sit up in the cot. He passes him a small cup of Nectar and orders him to drink up while he gets what he needs for the sling Nico’s arm will be in for a little bit. 

A sniffle leaves the boy as he observes the drink he’s left with. “What does it taste like?” “It depends on the person,” you sit back in your chair. “Usually tastes like something nostalgic, a favorite food or drink. You won’t know until you try it.” 

Nico nods, hesitantly taking a sip. As the flavors settle on his tongue, his eyes progressively widen. Next thing you know, he’s swallowing it like he hasn’t had a meal in days. 

“It tastes like the almond cookies they had at the Lotus Casino!” 

You nod in response, having some memory of Nico telling you about the Casino he and his sister lived at for a while. He’s told you plenty about it, you just weren’t listening most of the time. 

“I liked those the most because it reminded me of the cookies my mom would buy us.” 

Nico looks down at the cup, his smile faltering by the second. There’s a shadow clouding over his orbs and you quirk an eyebrow. The sadness overtaking his features looked strange. Sure you’ve seen him upset but you knew enough to recognize this expression as anguish. 

“What is it?” Your words came out more monotone than you intended. Shifting in your seat, you wondered why you even asked. Vulnerability wasn’t really something you sought after. It puts a bad taste in your mouth. 

“I was just wondering if Bianca would taste the same thing… but she never ate the cookies with me.” 

A hum leaves your lips. You don’t know much about that sister of his but you knew two things: first, you were here while he was hurt and she wasn’t. Second, her absence made Nico upset. 

“I understand.” Your vision is set on the small window beside you. Set on the fields of campers ahead, you ignore Nico’s burning stare. “I don’t like the taste of my nectar or ambrosia.” “Why?” “The flavors remind me too much of things I want to forget. Your sister probably didn’t eat those cookies for the same reason. It’s too much. Too many things tied to the things you like the most.” 

Nico’s silent, staring at the paper cup in his hands as if he was searching for something. 

“Nico, there’s one thing you need to know.” He averts his gaze over to you. “You’ll make friends, you’ll have lovers, you’ll have family but at the end of the day, the only person you truly have is yourself.” 

The boy shifts in his place, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t let people steal parts of yourself from you. They’re going to disappoint you, expect it, and don’t be sad about it.” 

Silence followed somber and stuffy silence. For once, you were glad Fletcher returned in all of his child of Apollo gleam. He was better at cheering Nico up than you were, that’s for sure. 

★・・・・・・★

“What do you mean ‘He’s gone?’” Percy slowly retreats from your advances. Twice already, he’s stared at the glowing eyes of a child of Hades and the second time was even more intimidating. 

“He just disappeared,” Percy stutters out. “It looked like shadows took him, and then he was gone.” 

Schist. You didn’t even know the little rat could shadow travel. By now, he could be anywhere. You’ve been on him about training, but he still had that childish clumsiness to him. His chances of survival would be out of pure luck. 

A groan leaves your lips, knowing you’d have to go find him. If it were anyone else, you would have let them be, but this unfamiliar urgency in your chest wouldn’t allow it. You had to find and drag him back by his ear if you had to. 

Your eyes roll at the son of Poseidon, and you turn on your heels without a word. So much drama because of that sister of his. 

Rushing down the stairs of the pavilion, you conjure the shadows to form a portal that’ll lead you straight into the forest. 

Di Angelo, you better be alive when I find you. 

★・・・・・・★

How does a 10-year-old with short legs get so much distance? 

After hours of searching and instigating some fights with monsters, he was nowhere to be found. Concluding that, maybe, hopefully, he found his way out of the forest, you have to settle with waiting for him to return. If he returns.

Tired legs take you up the porch steps and you shrug off your coat the moment you step through the door. As the warmth graces your chilled skin, a floorboard creaks.

“Nico?” 

“Y/n?” Your name comes out of his mouth like a desperate plea as he reveals himself out of the shadows. With rosy, tear-stained cheeks, and watery eyes, Nico bolts in your direction, and for a moment, you think he’s going to attack you. 

It would be a bold move. Though, with his speed, he could get a good hit but he ended up doing something much worse. 

He hugged you. 

His small frame flings into you, short arms grasping your waist as if his life depended on it. 

“Percy broke his promise,” he cries, hot tears running down his cheeks and dampening your shirt. “Bianca,” he shutters. “He told me she died.” His frame shivers harder, the action almost too violent for his frame. You weren’t sure how but his grip tightened, “What am I going to do?” Get over it. 

The hostile thought was a knee-jerk reaction. Your mouth was about to relay the message but you stopped yourself, the words getting caught in your throat. 

The logical answer didn’t feel right. Why didn’t it feel right? 

Suddenly you’re aware of the sunken feeling in your chest. Its foreign nature made it hard to distinguish whether it hurt or if it was discomfort. 

This is odd.

Nico cries and cries, and by now, the clothing of your shirt is sticking damp to your skin. The longer you stood there, stuck on what to say next, you felt an urgency as if your response was timed. 

Rarely were you lost for words. Actually, you can’t recall a time when you have but right now you stood with your mouth open like a fish out of water. “You stay here,” you say abruptly. Nico pulls away, eyes glistening in the ray of moonlight seeping into the room. He’s so small. 

Not that he’s not small on any other day. His narrow shoulders droop and turn into themselves from the weight of the news. He looked fragile, searching for something other than his grief and he’s searching for it in you. 

It wasn’t often someone came to confide in you. Your advice was always too abrasive, and cold, and never did you have the urge to give something different. 

That’s what made this moment so strange. As Nico waits expectantly, you can’t find it in yourself to disregard him. 

“You stay here,” you repeat, the words delivered before your brain could process them.“And you train, and make friends, and find your own way around life.” Nico frowns, sleeve wiping his nose. Amongst his sadness, something flickers in his eyes. “Stay here with you?” With you. 

You couldn’t begin to decipher what that question made you feel. Forget the question, its delivery was hopeful and that surprised you the most. 

The feelings were almost overwhelming and before it completely flooded your senses, you shoved it to the side.

“Who else?” You clear your throat in an effort to get yourself together. “Is there anyone else who lives here besides me? Does the statue count too?” The question was genuine but something about it made Nico crack a smile.

“Anyways, you’ll see her again.” You shrug, stepping out of his loose embrace. 

“I will?” “We’re the children of the dead. We can just find her.” Find her so I can kill her again.

Nico sniffles, the sound snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“Stop crying,” you blurt out, and the boy blinks, face pink. “Crying doesn’t fix anything,” is all you say before returning to your side of the room. 

Nico swallows, trying to suppress the tears. 

You were right. Crying doesn’t fix anything but even though it was true, his emotions were all too much for him. Sniffling softly and wiping his face with his sleeve, he retreats to bed. “Good night,” he says, voice quivering. 

Nico crawls into the covers, the fatigue hitting him the moment he rests against the spring mattress. Unexpecting, he wraps himself up, eyes shut tight in hopes he’ll be asleep soon. “Good night.” 

Nico’s eyebrows furrow. He finds some strength to lift his head just enough for you to be in his line of vision. Blinking in surprise, he swears he saw a smile on your face. It wasn’t teasing, or happy. It was comforting, as slight as it was. It wasn’t much but to Nico, it made him feel like he’d be okay. 

Without another word, you slid into your covers and went to sleep. 

★・・・・・・★

“Where’s the brat?” With crossed arms and a look of determination, you stood authoritatively at the double doors of your father’s dining room. 

The god sits at the very end of the grand table, skeleton butlers wait on either end of the room to serve him. On the polished mahogany wood, the bulbs of the many crystal chandeliers lined up across the ceiling reflect like ornaments. As Hades wipes the sides of his lips with a cloth napkin, the side of his mouth quirks as he catches Nico peeking behind your back like a child behind a mother’s skirt.

Since when have you been maternal? 

“I’m sorry, who?” Your father asks with fake confusion. The smile on his face already gave you a headache. You weren’t here to play games, you meant business. 

“You know who.”

Hades clears his throat and his eyes flicker over to Nico. Quickly, the small boy retreats nervously, eyes set on your back. “I don’t know where your sister is, boy.” 

“I don’t believe you,” you cut in. Nico wasn’t going to speak, the boy practically shivering in his father’s presence. Even as he refrains from confrontation, he’s in awe at your comfort towards the god. 

“There’s dead people in and out of this place. You think I would know?” Hades asks and a hum leaves your lips.

“I would think you’d at least keep track of your kids but if you’re going to be this useless to me, I’ll find her myself.” 

“Wait.” 

You halt turning on your heels and raise an eyebrow. There was a moment of disbelief, your father helping and not making everything so difficult for you, for once? You wonder who could have possibly granted this miracle. 

“She’s somewhere down here,” Hades says and you wish your expression could get straighter. “Wow, I would have never figured that out. Thanks.” Grabbing Nico’s sleeve, you begin dragging him out of the room. 

“She’s not in the meadows, I checked. I don’t think her life has been judged either but Charon said he rowed her in. I can feel she’s close.” 

You sigh. Finding her is proving to be more of a challenge than you thought. By now, you would think she’d be judged and categorized wherever the judges saw fit. However, from the dead ends, you’ve stumbled upon so far, you consider that she doesn’t want to be found. As annoying as it is, the chance to prove you can find her was enough to get you to keep going, “Noted,” you mumble, already deciding where you will look next. “Close the door on your way out!” “No.”

★・・・・・・★

“Okay, listen here…” You move a little closer, eyeing the name tag on the frightened guard. “Atrius. Have you seen Bianca? She looks like this kid.” Pointing at Nico, the ghost peers over your shoulder. 

“No, I haven’t seen her.” As definitive as that statement was, he didn’t sound so definitive. His bones clinked together as he shivered in your presence. 

“I don’t like when people lie to me.” You stare into his empty eye sockets. One moment passes and then two and then three and still he hasn’t budged. Irritation buzzed at the back of your skull. You had the time but none of the patience to play hide and seek. 

Nico stands a short way behind you, partially concerned for your victim. He wasn’t sure what you were going to do if you didn’t get what you wanted. The skeleton flashed him a look and even with no skin on his face, he could tell it was pleading. 

“Help me!” He was saying without a word. 

The boy doesn’t move from his spot though, instead looking away sheepishly. Pleading or not, he looked scary. That and Nico really wants to find his sister. “I’m not lying!” He insists and it annoys you even more. Quickly, in one movement, you grab his leg and tug so hard it comes straight out the socket. Tossing it to the side, your eyes don’t leave him as he yelps, falling straight to the ground. “Tell me where she is, or I’m tossing both of your legs into Tarturus. Last chance.” 

Atrius wails at your threat, the sound was so hysteric you almost missed his confession. “She’s hiding in Lady Persephone’s garden, amongst the pomegranate trees!” 

Nico flinches when you whip around. Already he was unsettled by your interrogation methods but nothing prepared him for your face.

You were smiling. Your eyes looked lit up. 

Not gracing him a look, you walked right past him. From his surprise, his brain never gave his body the signal to move. Instead, he averts his attention to a distraught Atrius whose more than relieved he finally got you out of his bones. 

Right as he’s about to look away, Nico jumps in his skin as the skeleton looks right at him once again. It was only then did he find the courage to move. Walking backward, he smiles sheepishly. “Um… thank you,” Nico’s tone is apologetic. Across the courtyard laid Atrius’s leg and the boy takes a step in that direction but is halted by the sound of his name. “You’re coming or not?” You ask him, foot tapping with impatience. 

Not wanting to keep you waiting, Nico forgets about retrieving the guard's limb. “Sorry about your leg!” He shouts behind him, hoping the apology was soothing enough as he joins your side. 

The young boy stares at the back of your sneakers as you make your way through the underworld. Already he’s seen some things that spooked him out too much. This was like walking through a horror maze for him. 

For you though, he notices you’re more comfortable around here than you did at camp. Your usually confident stride had purpose and authority. He wonders if he’ll ever walk through here the same way you do one day. A part of him hopes he does.

“Alright.” Nico halts, almost bumping right into you as you stop in your tracks. “We walk through here silently. Watch where you’re stepping, if you crush one of Persephone’s plants, I can’t help you.” 

The boy’s face contorted with fear. “What do you mean you can’t help me?” He couldn’t decipher the look you flashed in his direction but it sent your message well enough. Don’t step on one of her flowers and you won’t find out. 

Nico’s small nod is enough to get you moving. With silent and slow steps, you walk along the paved pathway toward the cluster of trees in the back. 

It hadn’t settled into Nico’s awareness that his sister was hiding. You could tell. He was still hopeful and excited to see her and you can imagine if he knew, he wouldn’t be happy about it. 

You’re not happy about it, that’s for sure. What even was her problem? If there was anything Nico deserved, it was to see her before she gets sent to the meadows or decides to reincarnate. 

Once you approach the trees, you shuffle through them. You’re thankful Nico’s naturally taken the role of your shadow because he mimics your sneaking, staying out of sight with you. 

He probably thinks your caution is due to Persephone arriving at any minute. You feel this strange tightness in your chest, he really has no idea you’re trying to sneak up on his sister so she doesn’t have the chance to run.

Right as the thought passes, you catch sight of something moving in the trees. Locks of brown hair wisp through them and the pulse in your neck picks up. It seems you’re not going to avoid a chase. 

Nico barely had time to catch up as you bolt through a straight diagonal through the trees. You admire her audacity to try and get away. The smile that stretches across your face is from amusement alone. 

As Bianca makes a sharp right, you gather the shadows at the tree's stumps and will them to consume your body. Nico blinks and suddenly you’re gone. His quick steps come to a stop as he looks around, trying to catch any sight of you. Then he hears a cry of pain and he moves fast in that direction. 

The only thing on his mind was the possibility you got hurt. Even if you were in your father’s territory, were there still monsters that could attack you? Even worse, what if you stepped on Lady Persephone’s plants? If you can’t help him in the scenario he did, what was he gonna do? 

His pace quickens as he hears another cry and finally, he bursts through a wall of vines. 

Still clouded by his concern, his brain barely processes what he stumbled upon. There you were, fingers grasping tight at his sister’s ear. Bianca groans and struggles in your pinching grasp and you look up at Nico with a gleam, like a fisherman who just got his catch of the day. “Got her.” 

“Nico?”

Bianca freezes at the sight of her brother. There’s a silence that follows and you’re surprised Nico didn’t immediately bombard her with questions. 

The girl straightens up once you let go of her and as your arm returns to your side, you catch the tears brimming Nico’s waterline.

Yeah, this is when you clock out. Your work here is done. 

“I’ll… wait for you over there,” you point through the trees and at the meadow of flowers that wasn’t too far. It’s enough distance to be an earshot away. 

Nico nods, his eyes unmoving from his sister. 

Once you’ve shadow traveled to your spot, you didn’t dare look in their direction. With your eyes planted on the flowers, you wait for Nico to return. 

The boy didn’t take too long which left you lost for words. He didn’t look happy when he met you in the garden. His eyes held a feeling a part of you understood. 

“I want to go home.” He frowns. 

Home. You didn’t even consider camp a home and you’ve been there for three years. 

“Okay.” Your voice was right above a whisper. 

Whatever happened back there was the end for him, the last time he would see her. Knowing how that felt, you waited. Just a moment, maybe two. If Nico had any reservations or second thoughts, you gave him time. When nothing came, you hoped whatever happened, he’ll find peace in it. 

The shadow gathered slowly, first at your feet then at your legs and soon the two of you were traveling through blurred shadows and harsh winds.

★・・・・・・★

“Who did this?” You weren’t sure if the streaks of water on Nico’s face were from his eyes or the toilet water soaked in his hair. 

The boy sniffles, cheeks and nose flushed from his embarrassment. After the incident, he rushed back to the Hades Cabin to wallow in self-pity but his assumption you wouldn’t be there was wrong. He didn’t want to admit what happened, scared he would disappoint you for clearly losing this battle.

His mouth opens to answer but nothing comes out. He considers lying but as you raise an eyebrow, he grows too anxious to come up with one. 

“Nico,” you say his name firmly and the frown on his face deepens. “It was Clarisse and her siblings, they-” he gurgles out through his watery whines and you sigh. “They…, I-” 

“Breathe.” You kneel to his height and take a deep breath, waiting for him to follow. He does, his chest filling with air and he releases it shakily. 

“They surrounded me in the bathroom and Clarisse shoved my face in the toilet.” 

His lip quivers as he recalls the memory. Nico’s eyes flicker across your hardening features and you rise from your spot. “Go clean up,” you demand, already heading to the door. 

“What are you gonna do?” “I’m going to fix it.” 

★・・・・・・★

Gravel crunches under your shoes, without a single weapon you persist into the camp’s arena. Clangs of swords and grunts could be heard from outside of the entrance and as you made your way through the doors, there were the Ares’s campers sweating and panting from their already hard day of training. 

Clarisse stands there authoritatively, the swing of the grand door grabbing her attention and the snug look on her face had set off a slight rage in your chest. 

You were ready to wipe it off. If only she knew what she had coming. “Did Nico tell on us?” One of her brothers asks mockingly, your presence already known to the entire group. They stood, waiting for a fight as they make no effort to sheath their swords. 

A smile almost graces your lips before you could even execute your plan.

“His big sister is fighting his battles for him.” They laugh and joke at your brother’s expense and something snaps in your mind. 

The ground suddenly sinks into itself, and Clarisse and her siblings stumble to the side in confusion. Before they realized what was happening, there was no chance to run. 

A sinkhole, perfectly round and deep enough to trap them forms right under their feet. They roll and drop to the bottom, coughing at the gravel waterfall surrounding them. 

You hear their shouts and complaints and you make your way to the edge. Looking down at them, you ignore their demands to be let out.

“No one messes with my little brother.” 

As if on cue, there’s a screech in the distance and it immediately fills their expressions with dread. A lopsided smirk appears on your lips and soon the shadows of massive wings appear overhead. 

You whisper a demand to attack in ancient greek and the harpies swoop down with a call like a battle cry. There’s a collective panic of your victims and a laugh leaves you, watching as they spear their swords in the air at every charge towards them. 

Calmly leaving the chaos you’ve caused behind, you find an audience. Unaware of their bewildered expressions, not because of the scene but at the joyful smile on your face, you hoped you’ve sent a message.

Be nice my brother or else.

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