#this took long because i have been Adulting and just having a shit time with my mental health
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leefail · 3 days ago
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I was thinking... The Robins was a mobile adoption sim (otome game style), launched a few years back with the hope of a revolutionary take on the dating sim genre. The game, though, lost its audience real quick. Because it wasn't a dating sim.
And then we have Bruce Wayne, a multibillionaire shut-in, never seen outside of the Wayne Manor ever since his parents met their tragic death, with the one person who remembers he existed being the Waynes' aged butler.
Don't let his being a shut-in fool you, Bruce was never good with electronic devices, let alone video games. His days were mostly spent sleeping and trying to chase the demons inside his head away with books.
That's how he downloaded The Robins, a click on an ad that told him to... click. (In big bold green letters with an arrow) It got him to the downloading link, and he just downloaded it.
Bruce became an addict. The game had four main capture targets: Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Along with a bunch of other secret routes you can unlock during your playthrough.
The gameplay was simple enough. You just have to increase a character's favourability to the max for them to get adopted. Favourability increases with each unlocked special scene, and special scenes are unlocked with a certain number of successful interactions.
Special scenes were Bruce's favourite part. He'd hold his breath so tight and sit straight like a scholar for an exam and give all of his attention to the screen. You wouldn't guess he was playing a game.
The first one he played was with Dick. The young adult was sitting on the rooftop and Bruce followed him there. They talked and joked. Bruce never thought it was a special scene until the spark in Dick's eyes was gone, and he told him about his parents' death.
"Sometimes," Bruce could only see Dick's side profile as he talked, "Sometimes I wonder, Bruce. Would this have happened if I just... wasn't there? Could I have been a... a changeable variable?"
"Am I still a changeable variable?"
... For an even bigger tragedy that is about to happen.
As Dick's loud cries filled the room. Bruce's pillow became soaked with his own tears.
As for his favourite character? It was Jason, who, when Bruce finally maxed his favourability points with, disappeared instead of getting adopted. Bruce was so upset about it he spent a whole night writing a harsh criticising review. A gamer took a screenshot of his comment later, and it became an embarrassing meme that was the talk of the gaming community for a while. Bruce wasn't aware of this because he didn't have social media. (I need to mention that his username in the app store was his actual full name)
You can imagine the stress he felt when Jason returned with the rage of a burning sun.
"You know what I hate most about you, Bruce?"
His gloved hands clutched the neck of Bruce's character shirt, yanking him up so they're face to face. "It's that you're a fucking coward"
"It only took one tiny inconvenient problem for you to hide in your little corner and just give up"
"Because, heh" Jason's expression was vicious when he grinned mockingly, devastatingly at Bruce's face, looking straight through the man's phone sceen "you're saaadd. You just lost the closest thing you have to a son, so you're a sad, pathetic, miserable loser. It's an enough justification for you to just. Stop. Tryyyinggg!"
"If I wanted a dad. It wouldn't be someone who'd make my absence the blame for whatever cowardly shit he's on."
"It would be someone who even when I die, would fucking carve mountains with my name so no one could forget.
... I never died, Bruce. But everybody forgot"
"If I wanted a dad, it would be someone who'd hold my hand, " Jason caught Bruce's character's shoulder in a death grip, " and pull me up, he would come to me...
He- he would pull himself out of his own stupid head just so he could come to me" when Jason cried, Bruce closed the game.
For the long time Bruce spent wallowing in his room. Never had he felt so... heavy as he did in the later days. He could sense the weight of food in his stomach, and his butt would be numb no matter how many times he changed his position. He was tired, spent, and no book could keep his attention for long. It got to the point where Pennyworth, his butler, finally talked to him for the first time after their big fight.
"Master Bruce, you are not touching your food. Are you alright?"
Bruce's throat twisted in on itself.
No, he was not, and had not been for a long, long time.
He didn't reply, instead.. he opened the game.
He still got Tim and Damian to capture. After all.
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23fallencomets · 3 months ago
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chapter 7: the one i was supposed to get done last week but didn’t
anyway, tough fp3 and qualifying huh, just really disappointed on how this session went especially since the williams looked really good and were projected to do well but i guess when one door closes another opens.
moving on, i think im gonna wrap this up around the tenth chapter or something. it’s been a real blast and im currently in a writers block (with like three/four fics on the list) so these help moving the writing juices.
enjoy 💞💞
[twitter]
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user81: logan had a priv???
user82: yesss he was so unhinged on it
user83: he was so funny during fashion week of 2022
user84: brother had no media training back then
user85: bring back unhinged logan
user86: found it!!
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user85: ahhh 23 year old logan you will be missed
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user86: WHAT
user87: LOGAN JUST DROPPED IT AND MADE IT A COLLABED POST
user88: WHAT IS WEONG WITJ THEM
[instagram]
logansargeant made a new post!
logansargeant and oscarpiastri
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lewishamilton and 10,289,378 more
logansargeant: surprise! the dynamic duo is back with the 2024 Summer Collection!! it was an absolute blast doing this campaign with Ozzie and i’m glad it’s finally out
landonorris: me next
logansargeant: i have an opening during summer break
landonorris: meet me in ibiza
oscarpiastri: hella respect for modeling because this was tiring 😓
logansargeant: i should bring you along to a fashion show
oscarpiastri: i love you but please don’t
logansargeant: 😞
user89: HELLO???
lewishamiltion: 🤫🤫
logansargeant: 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
user90: what do you know??
user91: why is no one mentioning ozzie
arthurleclerc: logan gave all of us nicknames
user91: share with the class
liamlawson30: 🙂‍↔️
liamlawson30: (im)patiently awaiting my turn
logansargeant: LIAM WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN 😫
liamlawson30: training, practicing you know the usual
logansargeant: then answer my text messages you dick
logansargeant posted a new story!
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logansargeant made a new post!
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and lewishamilton and 11,444,812 more
logansargeant: absolutely deserved!! we have been dreaming about this moment since we were kids and im absolutely ecstatic for you!! im 100% sure i cried, love you man!! future wdc in the making!! onto the next one
[user has limited replies]
logansargeantoffical made a new tweet!
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logansargeantoffical: well he can, i actually have a job to do
liamlawson30: take him along like you did that one time when i was in SF
logansargeantoffical: you complained the whole time??? and i was only in japan for three days
user92: are you guys not spending it together 😞
oscarpiastri: we are it’s just the someone 😒 has to make up all the work he missed
logansargeantoffical: you make it sound like if i work a 9-5
logansargeantoffical: and it’s only a week, you’ll survive
oscarpiastri: or i can join you
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tinystepsforward · 3 months ago
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ngl it makes me want to die a little bit that it's so often trans people who feel that sex is mutable but oppression is always-forever based on asab in ways that allow them to demand that information from other trans people. like it feels fucking bad. it feels bad when it's people holding up someone who posts a lot of selfies as transition goals to a degree they have to clarify what they have or haven't done or what "direction" they're going in, it feels worse when people are out there like "caster semenya is not tma" or whatever the fuck. i am, as always, not a trans woman, but here's a sentiment echoed by many of the trans women around me who log the fuck off, quoted directly from one: "people who draw a clear line where they say that semenya or khelif are tme and then call me tma are just calling me male at this point".
like i get it. i really do. we seek community and shared experiences, and we feel betrayed when people have less in common with us than we thought they did. [*more on this later.] but that's not those people's faults and my god in the case i'm seeing play out on twitter rn this poor person did absolutely nothing to intentionally mislead people, just posted pictures of their actual kid self. who looks a lot like i did, because shockingly enough "we can always tell" doesn't fucking work for trans people either!
on the one hand i move in intersex circles which are unapologetically welcoming in cis "dyadic" people with pcos, because it serves nobody to draw a clear line where mutilation or genetics or some ineffable childhood suffering are what make somebody intersex, especially when most of us (esp in places like nz) have never been karyotyped and are being treated for symptoms without a pinned-down cause anyway. the more of us there are the stronger we are, the more pressure we can exert on a medical profession which doesn't like to consider how common outliers are, how uneasy sex is at all. and then on the other hand there's dyadic trans people on the internet who've yelled me out of spaces because a couple of traumatised incarcerated trans women i worked with as a prison abolitionist assumed i was also a trans woman and i didn't immediately tell them my entire csa-involved history of being sexed in varying ways as an infant and child and/or exactly how big my phallus was at birth or where in my junk config my urethra lives so they could decide i was tme or whatever.
returning to the * for a related but not identical thought: i think presuming shared experiences leads to some fucked shit in general! "oh we all had a radfem phase" or "oh we all were channers" no we fucking weren't and it's particularly obnoxious when me & mine are trying to build trans community locally to organise and resist the growing wave of far-right backlash against our existence, and there's just white people in there on a spectrum from "straight up being antisemitic and trying to get the n-word pass" through "handwringing about how they need to make space for people who aren't politically correct" to "handwringing about how brown people are right to be mad at them but doing shit fuckall". and then the other fucking brown people in the space are on some identity politics shit where they're like "trans joy inherently excludes those of us who could get deported" or "big city white queers are killing us by being visible instead of going stealth bc it stirs up the discourse" or whatever the fuck i've heard pulled out this year. there's a bunch of reasons i primarily organise outside of trans spaces and that's one of them. i've never felt more alone in spaces where people claim we're all the same than being left as the brownest moderator or organiser in a space full of people to whom "this is a safe trans space" apparently means they get to abdicate all other responsibilities not to lapse into presumed shared patterns that are fucking racist or otherwise alienating. i've never felt more alone than surrounded by exclusively trans people who sort people into boxes and assume everyone in those boxes has the transition goals they have. like i was on cypro until it disagreed with me to the point of endocrine crisis and now i'm on t and at both those points people were so fucking presumptive or entitled to my reasons or journey or personal relationship w my body
literally just submitted on (and was invited to consult on) the nz law commission's review of the human rights act and like. it's straight up fucked how many nz trans people fully do not comprehend that any "sex assigned at birth" type definitions fundamentally exclude migrants who have no way of proving it and many intersex people who happen to have been reassigned later or many times or never assigned at all as a baby. we can't make law with this shit and that's why we have to have symmetrical protections for all genders/sexes/expressions/presentations, bc naming and defining a protected class here often leaves the people who already are left out from those shared experiences of marginalisation out in the cold when they face violence
#reblogs turned off because obviously i'm already bracing to be pilloried for saying one thing not quite correctly or whatever#and also bc i have zero interest in having this be boosted by trans dudes on their own transandrophobia agenda either#i'm just venting#but frankly the first time i got yelled at for saying that as an intersex person some of the immense violence i experienced as a child#was motivated by transmisogyny#i was a teenager and it was someone a fair bit older than me with more local clout so like. it's been a decade. how is it worse now.#intersex spaces have made SO much progress and yet#also yes i'm femme! i'm femme in a trans way! many dykes who aren't women are!#many of us got more comfortable w it as adults who had gender agency!#in literally the same way it took my wife ages after transitioning to work out she's also butch and doesn't actually want to do femme thing#bc that's a shared experience in how we've navigated the expectations of womanhood before opting out of the parts we don't want!#anyway the lawcomm shit was fucked bc honestl i don't give a shit if someone lost their gonads as an adult in an accident#they should be protected even if they don't consider themselves intersex#and we know that gender as an axis of oppression comes back to the reproduction of the nuclear family#and that cis women who can't have kids sometimes become the political football though ofc not as much by far and like#idk. y'all ever heard about solidarity? sometimes i feel like i'm back in the place where the loudest traumatised person at the party#is yelling at another young woman like “you'll never understand what it's like to be a victim”#when said young woman was assaulted the week before.#a politics that starts by defending and defining oneself w oppression kinda fucking sucks actually#and intersex people stopped policing intersexness by who got mutilated a long time ago#bc actually we want the generations ahead to not get that treatment#and when i see “trans elders” going on about how “if you pass and got on hrt before 18 you're not trans like i am” i'm like. why! what!#anyway. tired.#may regret this. we shall see#tony muses
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inbabylontheywept · 4 months ago
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i once accidentally dated someone for a few months. its very difficult to explain how this happened, but the gist is that i thought we were hanging out, and she thought we were on dates, and it was just a very painfully highschool thing.
she was a little bit confused that i hadnt tried to pull any moves, at all, even a little. like, didnt even try holding hands because, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating.
so, halloween rolled around, and she thought, you know, why wait for destiny, when you can grab it? so she hit me with a clue by four.
babylon, she said. babylon. my mom's gonna be out of town on halloween, and im gonna have the house to myself, and it's going to be kind of lonely. would you like to come to my house and watch scary movies with me?
you know, kind of a netflix and chill thing. except, and i cannot emphasize this enough, i did not know we were dating. also autism. so i took it at face value and said: oh! yeah! thatd be fun! and she thought she got her point across, but she didnt and it was a mess.
skip forward to halloween: my family has a block party every year, right? and at that point i was too old to really trick or treat, but we still wore costumes for our role in the block party, which in my case, was handing out cotton candy. so i took the first shift, and my costume was this homemade abomination minion thing. i had full yellow body paint, and goggles, and a bald cap, and overalls. the kids who saw it were like, uh, hm. overly realistic minion. and adults were like, oh, some kind of hills have eyes hillbilly with jaundice. very scary.
(it was not my best costume.)
my little brother swapped me out for second shift, and i was getting ready to change out to head to her house when i was like: no, she'll get a real kick out of this. this is one of the worst things i have ever worn. so i kept it on and just brought a change of clothes thinking i could shower real quick and change at her place after she saw my nightmare getup.
so i left after that, got there, knocked on her door, and she said come on in. so i went in, and there was this very long hall with an abrupt right turn into her living room where the tv was, and i went down the hall, and i made the turn, and my field of view went from beige drywal to her, on the couch, naked. naked in the paint me like one of your french girls pose. super naked.
i panicked. this was my first time seeing a real person like, full on sex naked,which is a totally different beast from other kinds of naked. you see one kind of naked and you think yeah, im ready for all the kinds of naked, but you arent. i wasnt at least. i really wasn't.
so my brain crashed to BIOS. she also crashed to BIOS, but for different reasons. of all the ways this could have turned me, having me show up in yellow body paint and overalls was pretty pretty low down the list.
so we sat there a while, and you know, she wasn't getting any less naked, which really wasn't helping me get my brain sorted out. it really wasnt much of a surprise when she got her bearings first and started asking questions.
"babylon," she said. "babylon. what are you wearing?"
and i was like, kind of rebooted, but i was nowhere near full functionality, so symbolic language wasnt loaded in yet. i had nothing running but my trusty autism.exe, so i said
"overalls"
and she looked at me like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked at her like she was the first naked person i had seen in real life who got naked specifically for me, and my upper level cognitive process went: "listen man, we are not going to get our shit together as long as 80% of your brain power is devoted to not blinking. you gotta get out of here."
and if id communicated that, maybe things would have been less of a mess, but instead i just kind of turned around and walked back to my car. i figured i could drive a few loops around the block, get my brain in order, and figure out what the hell we were gonna do.
the only thing i had said to her since arriving was, again, overalls.
first loop around, i was like: oh god fucking damnit. oh shit. oh shit. shes gonna get like, an eating disorder from this. oh no.
second loop around i was like: oh NOOOOO oh WHAT THE FUCK oh SWEET JESUS PLEASE. i dont wanna go back man. i just wanna bury this and forget about it. please. please. let this bitter cup pass from my lips.
and after my third loop, i went and i knocked on her door again.
she answered it this time, and i counted my lucky stars that she'd changed into some pajamas. she was all teary eyed which was the saddest thing ever, and we sat down in her kitchen and talked. it was pretty bad - i figured out we'd been dating, and she figured out that trying to jump from home plate to 3rd base is considered ballsy in baseball, least of all dating. no real winners there. and i can remember after all that, we sat there a bit a bit longer, just steadying ourselves, and i was like "well, im actually really glad we figured that out. guess i'll see you at school tomorow' and she said "WAIT. wait."
"lets watch shrek 2."
so we did and it was horrible. we did not look at each other. we did not say a word. we just sat in stony silence, while shrek 2 played in the background, and when it was done we shook hands. i think we might have been able to salvage that as a friendship if it hadnt been for shrek. as it was she turned white as a sheet and ran away every time she even got a glimpse of me at school, and that summer she moved to a new state to live with her dad. all her friends said she moved just so she wouldn't have to go to school with me anymore, and i dont actually think they were lying.
every time i hear relationship counselors talk about how important communication is, and i'm tempted to roll my eyes, i look back and go, alright. alright. theres probably some poor bastard, somewhere in the world, who doesnt even know that hes married.
and god help him when he figures it out.
other bad dating story here.
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clockwayswrites · 4 days ago
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The Birdritch's Nest part 25
masterpost
“That is a lot of plants,” Jason said. He swept his eyes over the space as he slipped his lock picks back into their little pouch.
“He has a botanist friend, apparently, and she keeps giving him plants,” Dick explained as he squeezed past Jason and into the apartment.
“Why are you here again?”
“Because I have a car which is better to carry all of Danny’s stuff in than your bike,” Dick explained. He went over to the wall of plants in front of the windowed corner and squinted down at something on his phone.
Jason pulled out his own phone to glance at what Tim had sent. “You say ‘all Danny’s stuff’ like the list was long. The guy hasn’t exactly been demanding.”
“The ‘guy’ expects to actually go home in a few days,” Dick pointed out.
“And is an adult and so can, you know, actually go home,” Jason retorted.
“Damian’s attached.”
“…I concede to your point,” Jason said once that thought sunk in. “Double the clothing asked for?”
“Basically. Make sure that he has a weeks worth, Alfred can always do laundry,” Dick said before letting out a little noise of triumph and doing something over by the plants. “There, watering system turned on.”
“Congratulations, you’re a genius,” Jason drawled. “Now go get his medication gathered up and snoop a little while you’re at it.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to be snooping,” Dick, words a teasing sing-song as he passed by.
Jason flicked him off. “Like you wouldn’t anyways. I just want to know what you find.”
“Only if you tell me what you find in the bedroom.”
“Deal.”
The bedroom was almost startlingly normal after the plant filled living main room. It didn’t look like Danny really spent much time in it beyond sleeping. The bed was absentmindedly fixed, a black down comforter over pale blue sheets. There was a paperback on the nightstand next to a lamp and a pocket sized notebook with a pen clipped onto the bent and battered cover.
It was the first thing that Jason picked up.
The notebook was obviously where Danny made notes when he was already settled in bed. As Jason flipped through the pages there was everything from to-do lists to invention ideas to… a lot of thought about wings. Jason turned the notebook in his hands. That page wasn’t in English. The language felt like it was on the tip of Jason’s tongue but he just couldn’t get it out.
Maybe some sort of dialect?
Jason couldn’t actually read it, but there was enough to piece together from similarities that tugged on his memory. Enough to understand it was about the wings. Something about the process of change? Aging?
“Hey Jay?” Dick interrupted, scattering Jason’s thoughts. “Can you read the label on these bottles? There’s some serious printing issues happening, I can’t even tell what language it’s in.”
The pill bottle felt oddly cold in Jason’s hand when he took it from Dick, but maybe the bathroom just had shit heating in this place. It would be just like Gotham builders to mess that up.
“Oh, that’s the same thing Danny is writing in here,” Jason said passing the notebook to Dick. “It’s something about wings and getting old, I think, but I can’t really read it.”
“Read it? I don’t even know what it is. Gives me a headache just to look at it,” Dick grumbled as he flipped through the notebook. “The whole bird thing has really been on his mind, hasn’t it?”
Jason gave a little huff. “Do you blame him? The guy has wings now. It would be on my mind too.”
“Yeah… guess I really can’t,” Dick said and snapped a picture of the page with the unknown writing to send to the group chat. “Any idea what it is?”
“Nope. It’s like it’s a distant dialect or that it uses some of the same alphabet of something I learned some of once. Like how Chinese and Japanese use some of the same characters, you know?” Jason explained as he opened the side table drawer and then quickly closed it again. That was more than he needed to know about Danny. “Maybe something from when I was catatonic in the league, who knows. There were a lot of languages in that place.”
“Cass or Damian might now it then,” Dick said as he eyed the drawer Jason had now moved away from.
“Don’t, trust me,” Jason said. “Did you get the medications you needed to grab?”
“Yeah, they’re in the bag. Just a standard bathroom, really. Though he keeps his toothbrush in this old mug with a hero I don’t recognize on it, someone called Phantom.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell, but it sure sounds like a hero name. Add it to the list,” Jason said as he started on gathering up the requested clothing and extra enough to last a week. “Check the closet to see if there are any shits in there that work around wings.”
Jason rolled his eyes as Dick threw the closet doors open dramatically and focused on his task. Jeans, sweatpants, underwear, what he guessed was pajamas were all added to the bag.
“So, nothing that looks like it was made for wings,” Dick said and tossed some normal shirts and a few sweaters into the bag. Jason sighed and folded them neatly. “Maybe he hasn’t had time to find any yet? It hasn’t been that long since the bird thing and seems it all started there. Or maybe he’s just always home when he’s had then?”
“Better let Alfred know then. He’ll want to get something as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, good point,” Dick agreed.
While Dick stepped out of the bedroom to call Alfred, Jason took the time to double check the list. It really was pretty basic. Jason didn’t know if Danny was just trying to not be demanding or if the guy didn’t need much, but Jason went ahead and put the bedside paperback and notebook in the bad too. Jason slung the duffel bag Dick had brought over his shoulder (he totally could have ridden his bike like this) and took a little bit of time to snoop through Danny’s bookcase while Dick finished the call. Sci-fi, horror, old text books, and a ton of notebooks filled the shelf with knickknacks and a few figures. Jason at least had to give Danny points for having some of the sci-fi classics, even if the range of works was pretty limited.
“Okay, Alfred is on it,” Dick said. “Anything else we need to do?”
“Nah, I think we’re good,” Jason said. Something made him not want to look through the notebooks, like they had already done enough snooping. It was an odd feeling. “Let’s get going, I’m hungry for whatever dinner is.”
“You’re always hungry,” Dick said.
Jason shrugged rather than dealing with how true that statement was. “I’m a growing boy.”
“You’re a trash pit.”
“Yeah, you want to go there, cereal boy?”
“Leave my cereal out of it!”
---
AN: I do love writing Dick & Jason so much. Can you tell I have an older brother? Also sorry for the mistakes I'm sure are abounding. Guess who turns out to be anemic? This critter! Maybe getting that fixed will help...
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chisatowo · 2 years ago
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I need 2 stop making salmonid ocs I cannot design all these fuckers I need 2 design the many many characters from my actual stories and aus that need designed and yet all I wanna do is make more emo fish ppl help-
#rat rambles#oc posting#splat posting#thinking abt valiant's ex friend who was the person that she got annoyed with and left because of#he was smth of a found brother to her as they largy stuck together during their childhoods and as such initially both physically developed#in similar ways with him beimg slightly more akin to your average adult smallfry#but during his late teens he started growing again and most assumed he was just a late bloomer#but as he was in his early 20s approaching mid 20s and he was still going he started realising that it was probably. not gonna stop.#he never ended up gettimg the chance to tell valient tho before she left#valiant was not necesarily an outcast but she was considered hard to connect to and she herself was very secretive around most#she had big ambitions that she wanted to keep a secret as to not have her ideas stolen but also constantly longed to enthuse abt her genius#so her one friend was the person shed usually go off too and he usually tried his best to listen and engage as best he could but he wasnt.#the best at it. and that only got worse as the looming prospect of being possibly seperated from everyone he knows and loves started to get#to him and since he didnt tell anyone valiant assumed he didnt care abt or stopped believing in her ideas which hurt and frustrated her#after one particular conversation where at some point he straight up told her that he wasnt up for talking she took it personally and left#nowadays she looks back on that with a lot of regret since in hindsight she can tell that he was probably going through some shit#she feels like its too late to go back or even reach out tho since its been over 20 years at this point#she doesnt know that even if she did he wouldnt be there :(#as for him himself I imagine that being a collasol salmon comes with. a lot of complicated feelings for some#its a deeply honored and even celebrated roll and theyre very well cared for but at the same time it kind of requires being much more#isolated than your typical salmonid even if they have a handful of caretakers with them most of the time#they usually have to be moved out to the deeper parts of the ocean too meaning that its difficult for family and friends to visit sometimes#plus there is this level of envy thay exists in some salmon around the titans sometimes which for my big boys case does fuck with him#he is a very anxious person who tends to overthink things and boy howdy does every last element of all of this not help#it especially doesnt help that his best friend left before he could even say goodbye and he hasnt heard from or even of her since :(#his crew ends up getting picked off by predators while escorting him to a nearby border for a grooming session leaving him alone and lost#in the depths of the ocean with little tools to navigate#he knows that death is not supposed to be a scary thing for him but he is so scared in this moment#not because of death itself but much more so him desperately not wanting to die alone#he was supposed to be celebrated. it was supposed to be a joyous event. his family was supposed to be there. he'll never see valiant again
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areyouwell · 4 months ago
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Nyctophobia
Noun: An extreme fear of the dark. Children or adults may have Nyctophobia if they are afraid to be left alone in darkness
Ch.1
Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader
Warnings: None as of yet, but we'll get there ;)
Word count: 9.2k
A/N: RIGHT FUCKERS ITS TIME. i don't think i've written a fic this long in goddamn years but here we are. DEFO ooc Logan and also timeline what timeline? Kitty is older than the rest of the students cuz i love her and i said so. reader's mutation is currently shadow-walking but that'll develop as we go on so slay boots. also I have no concept of word limits sooooo 9k chapter let's fucking go
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How long had it been? Six months? A year? Two years? Honestly, you couldn’t recall. It felt like it had been forever since ol’ Charlie had sent you travelling the continent. Sure, it had been your idea to try and find mutants before they experience the most traumatic event of their lives, but you didn’t think he’d send you, and certainly not immediately. Though you were glad he did, you didn’t think Scott would make as good an impression as you could.
But, now you were back. Thank fuck. You could finally rest your weary legs and put down your heavy-as-shit bag. And at least now you could work on developing your mutation. Shadow walking. Or at least, it is now. You thought that was the extent of what you could do, just disappear and reappear whenever and wherever there happened to be a shadow cast on the ground. Or on a wall. Or anywhere really. But, Xavier had gently suggested that, perhaps, those shadows could be manipulated one way or another. You wished to fuck you knew how because your bag was all but cutting right through your shoulder.
Your boots crunched against the gravel as you took a deep breath, making your way inside. It was nice to notice nothing had changed. The lawn was still neatly mowed, brickwork hadn’t aged a day. It smelt like comfort. It smelt like home. But before you could even knock on the door, at least being courteous enough not to slip through the shadows, the oak burst open and two unidentified arms had wrapped themselves around your neck in one of the most warming hugs you’d ever received, accompanied by a high pitch squeal.
You knew instantly who that would be. Brown hair spilled across her shoulders, smelling faintly of lavender. “Hey Kitty,” you grinned, dropping your bag to return her tight embrace. It truly did feel like forever.
“I’m so happy to see you it’s been years! We thought you were never coming back! Scott thought you’d died and Charles wasn’t telling us, Logan didn’t think you even existed and that we were all lying, Jean thought you’d just got sick of this place and dipped, it was carnage!” She rambled, her deep brown eyes sparkling slightly. You had to take a minute to actually comprehend what the fuck she was saying before your lips split into a broad smile.
“Well, I can tell you that I’m not dead, at least not yet, and I do very much exist and I am not sick of this place despite what Jean may think. And– wait who’s Logan?” Your brain had only just caught up with the fact that Kit had mentioned a name completely unfamiliar to you. Just how long had you been gone?
“Oh, right yeah. A new teacher,” Kitty kept one arm around your shoulder as she guided you back inside, stopping only when you realised your bag was still left discarded by the front door. “He uh, sorta took your position as PE and combat professor… sorry.” She looked genuinely apologetic, whilst internally, you couldn’t be more grateful. You always thought you weren’t ever cut out to teach, and whilst you sometimes enjoyed it, you were always too worried about the kids being hurt. 
“I’m hurt, a girl’s gone for a year or two and you replace her? What kind of school is this?” you cracked a smile, Kitty’s face morphing from remorse to relief. She really thought you’d be upset? You were touched. “Anyway, what time is it? Where is everyone? I thought classes stopped at–” You were cut off abruptly upon entering the lounge.
“Welcome back!” you covered your face at the chorus of voices, laughing behind your hands before clutching your heart dramatically. 
“Christ! You’ve all just knocked five years off my life!” you grinned, faces both familiar and unfamiliar laughing and smiling just to see you.
“They’ve been looking forward to this for days. Ever since rumour of your return started circulating, they’ve been pestering us nonstop for a date. Eventually, someone caved,” You didn’t need to see Scott’s eyes in order to know he was giving Kitty a pointed look behind his glasses. You looked back to see her looking sheepish.
“Yeah well… they can be really persuasive.” She shrugged, taking your bag off your shoulder and placing it out of the way. You sighed at the loss of weight, rolling your joint slightly. 
“It’s good to see you,” Scott pulled you in for a brief hug, clapping your back once before pulling back, letting the rest of your friends and pupils make their way over. You were consumed by various arms of embraces, questions about your travels, introductions to new students, reminiscing with old students. It was quite possibly the best moment you’d had since you left. But a face caught your eye at the back of the crowd. A young girl, with the same dark brown hair you remember, only now a streak of brilliant white framed her face.
You made your way over, shuffling through the crowd, clasping hands and shoulders with people you knew before finally getting to her.
“Hey you,” you smiled gently, remembering how timid and easy to scare she used to be. You were caught off guard completely by her sudden bright smile. 
“Hey.”
“How long’ve you been here? I didn’t actually think you’d listen to me to be brutally honest with you, thought you’d just shrug it off and continue your own path,” you were relieved to see she had listened to what you’d said two years ago. You’d urged her down this path, to find the school. You’d already known Charles would take her, it was just a matter of her taking herself here.
“Uh… about that…” you’d only seen a smile that sheepish on Kitty. You cocked a brow, head tilting to the side slightly before a hand on your shoulder caused you to whirl. But it was just Ororo. Clearly, your travels had affected you more than you originally thought. 
But Storm wasn’t looking at you, you could only see the back of her white hair as she frantically waved at someone through the crowd, beckoning them over.
“Logan!”
Ah, you guess that made sense now.
Whoever you’d expected to walk through the crowd, you threw that image out your mental window the moment you saw him. 
Now you understood why he taught combat and PE… he was fucking ripped. White t-shirt leaving nothing to the imagination. The facial hair was an interesting choice, but you couldn’t say it didn’t suit him. He was very… rugged lumberjack looking.
You placed a hand on your hip, brows raised in intrigue as he made his way over. You don’t think you’d ever seen a grumpier-looking man. 
“Logan, this is Phantom,” your eyes slid to Ororo as she used your mutant name. 
“Ah, so you do exist,” his voice seemed a perfect match for the rest of him, just as rough and rugged as the worn jeans he was wearing. You nodded, mouth quirking into a small smirk.
“Heard there was some debate over that, glad I could put it to rest,” you outstretched your hand for him to shake, something you were surprised he actually did, calloused palm encasing your own.
“Can ya blame me?” He asked with a raised brow, dropping your hand after a beat too long. Clearly unaccustomed to civility, judging from his appearance. 
“Guess not. You’re also the son-of-a-bitch that stole my position, right?” You asked, wanting to be a lot more serious than you actually were being, but for some reason, you couldn’t help grinning slightly. 
“Language!” Storm elbowed you slightly. Guess you’d forgotten how to behave around the kids too.
Logan held his hands up in surrender. “In my defense, I didn’t think you existed,” though he also seemed serious, you thought you could detect something that could be perceived as humour in his hazel eyes. You couldn’t keep up your poorly constructed façade anymore, waving your hand as if to physically clear the air between the two of you.
“I’m kidding, you can keep it. In all honesty, I was never really cut out for it.” You shrugged. “Besides, I’m–”
“She’s being super modest by the way, she rocked as that professor!” Kitty called from the other side of the room, somehow managing to listen to your conversation. You didn’t know how, since the entire welcome party was still chatting way, but you cast her a withering look nonetheless. 
“So I’ve heard,” Logan’s eyes slid from Kitty back to you as you scoffed.
“Though, of course, it was purely hypothetical, since I didn’t exist and all.” You teased, gesturing to your very much existing self. You silently triumphed over the fact you managed to drag a small smile out of him, realising that making this man pull any other expression other than irritation was something to be proud of. 
You hadn’t realised how completely caught up in the introduction you’d been before you noticed the girl still standing next to you, eyes flicking between you and Logan with a small smile pulling at the corners of her lips. 
“Anyway,” you continued pointedly, “you were saying? So you didn’t come to find this place?” your head tilted again slightly in confusion. “How did you end up here?”
Rogue looked from you to Logan, who’s eyes were still trained on you. You looked between them. “Nope, still confused. How did…?” 
“Well, after you found me, I did carry on my own path, which led me to some shady bar where Logan found me,” she explained quietly.
“More you found me but sure.” He shrugged. You could tell there was some kind of bond between them, one you could recognise was only built through trauma. You’d heard a little of what happened with Eric through Charles’ telepathic link, but he always reassured you to continue what you were doing. But you often wondered what could have happened if you’d returned. 
“So, you brought her here?” You asked, trying to prompt the story forward. Honestly, you wanted to know how he’d succeeded where you’d failed. You could be incredibly persuasive when you wanted to be, but Rogue was stubborn on another level. 
“Me? Nah, didn’t know this place existed at that point.”
“Seems to be a common theme with you,” you couldn’t help the subtle teasing grin spreading across your face, nor your laugh as he rolled his eyes skyward.
“Never gonna live that down, am I?”
“Not whilst I’m still breathing,” you winked, before turning your attention back to Rogue and completely missing the way his features shuddered slightly. “So how’d you get here if tall, dark, and broody over here didn’t know about this?” 
“Tall, dark, and– what?” He asked, bewildered.
Ororo snorted in amusement, before stepping in. “That would be us. We’d been tracking another mutant, Sabretooth, and he just so happened to be tracking Logan, or so we thought at the time. We found Sabretooth, and these two at the same time. Brought them both back.” 
You nodded in understanding, now finally having got through the whole story. Well, maybe not the whole story, you knew there were details you definitely were missing, but at least you got the jist.
“I see. Glad it wasn’t my lack of persuasive skills then. Though I guess a life or death situation isn’t much better. How’s your mutation coming along?” you asked, only now noticing the black, elbow-length gloves she was wearing. Ah.
“Still hard to control, but I’m getting better at it!” She looked genuinely enthusiastic about her mutation, so much so that it almost brought a tear to your eye. When you’d met her two years ago, you didn’t know if she even wanted help. She’d been so lost in her despair and self-loathing that you didn’t think she had long left with the way her mental health was going. So to see her so happy, your throat closed up slightly.
“I’m glad, I really am. You deserve this, Rogue. All of this,” you gestured to the room around, to the friends she’d made, to the haven she’d found.
“Oh, my name’s Marie. Guess I didn’t tell you before.” She shrugged, and you had to laugh to stop yourself from crying. 
“Marie it is.” Her story touched your heart, and to see she managed to get her happy ending… fuck you were so close to crying. You had to change the subject before you broke down in front of these people. “Oh hey, is my room still the same? Wouldn’t mind freshening up a little, been a long journey.” Two birds with one stone. You could leave the situation and cry in your bathroom whilst taking a shower so you didn’t smell like the wrong end of a skunk. Perfect!
“Uh…” Storm started.
“About that…” Kitty continued, coming over to stand alongside Storm. You looked between them, before shooting a glance to Logan who seemed to be showing absolutely no remorse.
“Your bed’s real comfy, bub” he smirked, and you gaped.
“You’re fucking kidding me?”
“Language!” both Ororo and Kitty said at the same time, and you winced.
“Fuck, sorry. Shit! Argh!” you gave up, throwing your hands in the air. “I’m not letting any of you off the hook. This is betrayal at its finest! Giving him my position I can handle, but my damn room? That’s shocking behaviour from the both of you!” You pointed at them accusingly, shooting a glare to the man next to you who was doing nothing but lowly chuckling. You breathe out a sigh. You had the best room in the whole mansion. Or at least you did, before Muscles McGee stole it from you.
“Don’t blame those two” Jean placed a calming hand on your shoulder. “we didn’t have another room made up when these two arrived. It was supposed to be temporary, but–”
“The view was too nice to pass up on,” Logan interjected. You realised he probably thought it was his turn to tease you. You knew that view was nice, it was overlooking the entire grounds behind the school. And whilst you were going to sorely miss it, you weren’t so heartless that you’d take it back from him. Besides, in a weird way, you felt like you owed him. He found Marie, and whatever transpired between them, she seemed happier now. You guessed you maybe had him to thank for that.
“Yeah yeah, alright fine. I concede. Where am I then?” you asked Jean, who broke into a broad smile.
“You’re in the one above, still got the same view, don’t worry,” she elbowed you slightly. That wasn’t so bad actually. Same view, same side of the mansion, just one story up? You breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, you could do that.
“Good enough, I’m still mad about it though.” Your eyes narrowed at four of them, Logan included, before cracking your neck in preparation to take your bag all the way up the stairs.
Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you raised a brow in suspicion. “What’s got you so giddy?” you asked as she once again slid her arm across your shoulders, guiding you back towards the door. 
“Oh nothing, just glad you're home. It’s been kinda boring without you.” You laughed at that. With everything that’s been going on, you didn’t think any of them had time to be bored. But you appreciated the thought nonetheless. 
Eyeing your bag on the ground, there were times when you really wished your mutation involved some kind of super strength, because as happy as you were to be home and have a room just above your old one, you really didn’t want to lug that thing all the way up. And all the damn lights were on, so slipping up through the shadows was a no-go. You blew out a breath in preparation, rolling your shoulder once again, before you were stopped by a broad hand landing on your arm.
“I got it,” Logan’s voice weaved butterflies through your stomach. You hadn’t realised he was behind you before he was leaning down next to you and effortlessly slinging the bag over his own shoulder.
For the second time that afternoon, you gaped up at him, left almost speechless. 
“Super strength?” Was all you could say, hoping to Jesus he knew what you were asking. You watched his features morph from confusion to amusement as he shook his head slightly. 
“Nah, not quite.”
“Then how the fu–” you were reminded of the children present by a sharp elbow to the ribs from Kitty. “–uuun. How fun.” you gave up on your question, much to his mirth. The sight had your brain short-circuiting. You wouldn’t deny he was good-looking. You’d be fucking crazy to deny that. But there was something else hidden under all those knowing smirks and sharp glances. Something that you wouldn’t mind uncovering. 
Deciding that was a quest for another day, you turned abruptly on your heel, making your way to the staircase before once again stopping in your tracks. This was starting to get on your nerves a little. However, any irritation soon died as you finally saw Professor Xavier.
“Ah, I wondered whether the commotion was your return.”
You snorted a laugh. “No, you didn’t. You absolutely knew it was my return.” You quipped back, earning yourself a laugh from the man.
“As quick as ever. And I see you’ve met our Wolverine.” Charles nodded to Logan next to you, and you turned to him in bemusement. 
“Wolverine? Seriously?” you asked, laughing at his shrug. “Can’t think why…” your sarcastic jab paired with your pointed looks from his hair to his body brought another amused smirk from the man. 
“I thought you two would get along. Get yourself settled back in and meet me in my office and your earliest convenience.” You nodded back to Xavier, unable to take a moment to process what he meant when he said he thought you and Logan would get along before Kitty began dragging you towards the stairs.
“C’mon! You’re gonna love it!”You were slightly worried about what it was but followed her nonetheless.
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Logan had to admit, he didn’t mind carrying your bag up four flights of stairs. It wasn’t the worst way to spend his afternoon. And as much as he wasn’t the kind of guy to stare at a woman’s ass, he wasn’t mad that he was behind you. 
Everything he’d been told about you had been proven correct. At least, everything he’d seen so far. Whether or not you could hold yourself in a fight was up for debate, but everything else, your wit, your charm, heartbreaking kindness, humour… it was all right there in front of him. 
Literally.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d had to bite back a smile or a laugh, stunned by the fact that you actually managed to break through and pull both from him. Even now, as you paused before the landing that lead to your old room and sighed wistfully, had had to stop himself grinning. And he was glad you turned back around quickly after throwing him a pointed glare over your shoulder because that was another smile he was struggling to rein in. Fuck, how did you do it? He’d only known you for half an hour and he’d displayed more expression than he had in his whole two years of being here. 
He was in huge trouble. 
The stairs finally flattened out to the top floor landing, Kitty still leading the way down the corridor until the final room. It was isolated, like his one floor below, and he guessed you must like it that way. Which he thought strange. The way you were with others, he hadn’t exactly pegged you for being someone who liked her space. But then again, he’d only known you for thirty minutes.
He had to remind himself of that. 
“Here we are!” Kitty grinned excitedly, stepping to the side to let you open the door yourself. Logan knew what you’d find behind the wood. He’d helped set it up after all. Some twisted guilt forced him into helping. At least, that’s what he told himself. 
You eyed Kitty suspiciously, before twisting the handle on the door, pushing slightly to reveal what she was so excited about.��
If Logan was being honest, your expression was worth all the consuming guilt he’d felt by taking your room. A smile of pure, unadulterated awe wiped all thought from his mind, your eyes were practically glowing.
“You… Kitty, you didn’t need to do this,” You looked back to the giddy girl and pulled her into a tight hug. Everything you remembered was here. Your posters, fairy lights, and every single plant you’d nourished and grown made your room look like a rainforest. The light in the ceiling had been covered by patterns to ensure there was always shadows cast somewhere, whether it be floor, wall, or ceiling. 
“It wasn’t just me! I employed help,” Kitty smiled, taking the liberties she knew she had to sit cross-legged on your bed. “And others offered to help.”
Logan held his breath as he felt your attention shift from Kitty to him, meeting your gaze of sheer wonder. 
“You helped?” you asked, taking your bag from his shoulder, though he was almost too caught up in your gaze to notice.
“Here an’ there…” he muttered, trying to calm himself by leaning against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest, attempting to escape your eyes by looking around your room. 
“Here and there? That’s such a lie! He’d heard about your mutation, the shadow-casting thing was his idea!” Kitty grinned excitedly, and you all but choked on the realisation. He did this for you. He didn’t even know you, and he did this for you. 
“Kitty, that’s en–oof!” Logan barely had time to react before your arms were around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder. Your scent hit him like a truck, and it was nothing like how he’d imagine it. Not that he had imagined it…
“Thank you,” you whispered earnestly, and any guard he’d put up previously melted away. He didn’t exactly return your embrace, but his hands somehow found your waist as you pulled back, keeping your arms across his shoulders. “Maybe I can forgive you for stealing my old room now. Oh! And my job. And not believing I exist,” your grin held more mischief than he ever thought possible, but now you were back to teasing, he felt his thoughts return. 
“Anythin’ else?” He asked, mirroring your expression.
“Not yet, but I’m sure I’ll think of something,” was it Logan’s sudden and overactive imagination, or did your eyes just flicker to his lips?
Was it the sudden physical contact that made your body hum this way, or was it just the fact that he could bench-press three of you? You didn’t care, and somehow, you didn’t think he did either. 
Until very suddenly and very abruptly, you did care. You stepped out of his hands far too quickly for his liking, your arms falling back by your sides. Though you didn’t look like you regretted anything. 
“I really appreciate this, from both of you. And whoever else helped. This is… well it’s better than what I was imagining,” you gestured to the room around you. It truly was perfect for you. They’d really outdone themselves. He’d really outdone himself. And you couldn’t help the warmth that spread from the centre of your chest to your limbs. You wanted to know more about him. “What’s your mutation, by the way? You never said,” you asked before you could stop yourself, and Logan blinked in surprise.
Holding his fist up, he flexed the tendons holding his claws. He no longer winced when his knuckles split. No longer grimaced as he sliced through his own flesh, though watching your face did cause him to worry just a little. 
You held your silence for a moment, not really knowing what to say. That looked painful as fuck, but you felt that asking might make it worse. “I see…” was all you said, before it hit you. “Wolverine! I get it now. It made sense before but now it actually fits!” You exclaimed, chuckling at his confusion. 
“Whaddya mean it made sense before?” 
“Don’t think too much into it,” you winked again, and Logan swore his heart stopped. 
“Yeah, alright Phantom.” He cocked a brow at the playful narrow of your eyes before you melted into the shadows right in front of him. He’d been made aware of your mutation, having overheard Jean using both you and Kitty as examples of phasing mutants, but to actually see it for himself? He couldn’t say he wasn’t impressed. He glanced around the room, retracting his claws as he looked for where you could have gone. 
“Get it now?”
Logan whipped around to see you standing behind him, arms folded across your chest, a mischievous grin plastered across your features. 
You always felt a sense of freedom when you released yourself into the shadows, like holding yourself in this corporeal state was somewhat of an effort. But letting yourself be free, to move like liquid amongst the darkness, it was like refueling a beaten truck. 
Logan’s lips quirked into a smile as he nodded once. “Got it,” the silence lingered once again, some kind of charge energy crackled in the space between the two of you before he cleared his throat. “Kitty, we should– the fuck?” 
You popped your head to the side, peering around Logan to see the space on your bed Kitty used to be sitting in was now completely empty. “Guess she left,” you shrugged. “Or she never existed.” That earned you a flick to the forehead from Logan, and you laughed, batting away his hand. How long had it been since you’d felt this comfortable with someone this quickly? Either it had been years, or never. 
“I’ll leave you to it,” he smiled, this time completely unrestrained. And fuck was he gorgeous. But you had to remember this was a man you’d just met. 
He had to remember this was a woman he’d just met.
“Yeah, thanks. I’ll uh, see you later?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so hopeful at the end, but honestly? It was worth seeing him turn back to you with that same smirk you’d seen countless times already.
“Sure.” He said, before closing the door. 
You sat heavily on your bed, your head in your hands. “What the fuck?” 
Little did you know, Logan was having a similar reaction right outside your door, his back against the wood as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “What. The. Fuck?”
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Having almost drowned yourself in the shower, using that shampoo you’d missed so dearly on your travels, you’d changed clothes into something a lot more comfortable, a loose pair of sweats and a spaghetti strap tank top, before heading down to Xavier’s office where he’d just spent the last ten minutes explaining his plans to further your mutation. And to be completely honest with yourself, you hadn’t listened to half of it. 
“So, in short, your ability, whilst appearing similar to Kitty’s, is actually entirely different. Where Kitty phases through objects, you become those shadows. Your molecules break down completely, unlike Miss Pryde.” He finished his explanation slowly, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him you had no idea what he’d just said. Luckily, when conversing with a telepath, you didn’t have to.
Charles sighed, rubbing his forehead slightly. “You’ve always said you felt a strain on yourself whilst corporeal, yes?” He asked, and you breathed in relief. Finally, a question you could answer.
“Yeah, it’s like I’m holding water with my bare hands. Or something like that,” you nodded, looking at yourself slightly curiously. “So, I’m not like Kitty?” you clarified, looking back up the the professor, who shook his head. 
“I’m afraid not. We were mistaken before, simply assuming you were just another phasing mutant. But Jean ran some tests on your blood, and it was quite remarkable.” You’d almost forgotten the woman was in the room until she cleared her throat, her red hair pulled up in a tight ponytail. 
“I think you describe it perfectly. Your molecules are being held together, more or less, by string, or so to speak. Not real string, but I think you understand.” You nodded. You actually did understand, because that’s how you constantly felt. It was, however, incredibly unnerving. What would happen if that string frayed? Or worse, fucking snapped altogether? Sensing your distress, Charles covered your hand with his own.
“My dear, that’s why we brought you back. We’ve been incredibly lucky so far, and clearly, you have an innate ability to control the string. It’s led us to believe that your abilities don’t stop at shadow walking.” He looked at you with understanding as you took this all in. He’d mentioned to you previously that he thinks you could do more. 
“Shadow manipulation, right?” You asked though the question was rhetorical. You knew that’s where they were going with this. Charles glanced at Jean who nodded in confirmation. 
“Essentially, yes. We think you could pull shadows from an already existing cast and wield them to your heart’s content. In… theory.” She hesitated, and you blew out a breath.
“But in practice?”
“In practice… honestly we don’t know. It will be a learning curve for all of us, to be blunt.” You nodded a little numbly. You’d only just returned and already you were being bombarded with hard truths. 
Once again sensing your distress, Charles cleared his throat. “Well, I think we should continue this discussion tomorrow. You’ve had a long day and perhaps right now isn’t the best time to be entertaining new ideas.” He threw another look to Jean and she nodded again, standing from her seat.
You couldn’t agree more. This was a lot to take in. Especially since you’d become so comfortable with your mutation, believing that you were just another phaser like Kitty. But now, you were something else completely, something unknown. Even to yourself. It… scared you. And you didn’t scare easily. Worry? Sure. Impending sense of dread? Absolutely. Fear? Never.
“Right. Thanks, Professor. I’ll uh, see you tomorrow then.” You dipped your head goodbye, before leaving his office and closing the door behind you. Tea. You needed tea. Fuck you needed something stronger than tea, but since this was a goddamn school, alcohol was strictly prohibited. 
Fuck’s sake. 
Dragging a hand down the side of your face, you absently made your way to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. Muscle memory guided you to the drinks cupboard, moving aside the jar of decaff coffee to reveal your personal stash of teabags. Whilst primarily you were a coffee drinker, when it was this late in the evening, you tended to steer clear of the caffeine. You weren’t the best at sleeping to begin with, let alone when your mind and body were buzzing. 
You didn’t turn when you heard footsteps behind you, and the scrape of one of the chairs against the wooden floor, too focussed on rifling through the cupboard adjacent to the drinks one for our favourite mug. A gift from Kitty, she’d had custom-made for the print on the side to say ‘Phasers Forever!’. It made you a little sad to think about now. But, thankfully you found it, nestled right at the back next to the mug you’d gifted her. Also custom-made, but this just had the image of two hands with their little fingers linked. You’d made sure the gloves matched the ones you both wore in your suits. 
Dropping the teabag into the mug, you instantly savoured the scented steam as you poured the hot water, even the aroma calming your slightly frayed nerves. Wow, that meeting had seriously rattled you. Looping the string and tag over the lip of the mug, you turned back to the room, only to almost drop your freshly made drink in surprise.
Logan. Hair slightly damp, in a white v-neck tank, sat at the far end of the table, leaning back in the chair with a bottle of what you could have sworn was larger in his bear paw of a hand. That same fucking smirk pulled at his lips. 
“Phantom.” He raised his bottle in greeting. You wished you could match his energy, but honestly, you were drained from the day and the meeting. But you tried nonetheless.
“Wolvie.” You smiled back, though you could feel it didn’t reach your eyes. And clearly, he noticed too, expression shifting from self-assured confidence to slight concern.
“You alright?” Logan had only known you for less than a day, and he already knew he really didn’t like seeing you despondent. 
“Yeah, fine.” It almost pained him physically seeing your eyes remain dull with your liar’s smile. That was something else he realised in that split second. 
He really didn’t like you lying to him.
“Uh huh?” Fuck, he definitely knew you were hiding everything. How the fuck could he possibly tell that? He didn’t even know you! You sighed heavily, hoping it would help your next half-truth.
“I’m just tired. Long day, lots of emotions. Are you hungry? I’m starved and was gonna make pasta if you wanted some,” You tried your best to steer the conversation away from how you were feeling. Once again it wasn’t exactly a lie. You were starving, having not eaten since this morning, and it was now ten in the evening. 
Logan knew you turned away quickly so you didn’t have to see his suspicion. If you weren’t ready to talk about whatever was bothering you, he knew he shouldn’t push. But, to his surprise, he found himself wanting to know. He wanted to know what was up, and maybe, just maybe, he could make you feel better. It seemed doubtful, but it was worth a shot. “How was your meeting with Charles?”
Your shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Gotcha.
“Yeah, fine. Just easing me back into life here basically. Nothing earthshattering.” Now that was a flat out lie, and once again you refused to turn around as you brought the kettle over to the tap, filling it to the max line before placing it back on the stand and flicking the switch. You found it easier to lie when you were busy doing something else and making pasta seemed perfect. Crouching to one of the lower cupboards, you pulled out the pack of wholewheat, refusing to eat any of the sugary white bullshit. Unfortunately, the one downside of busying yourself so remarkably well was that you weren’t always paying attention to what was going on around you.
For example, Logan walking up behind you to take the packet from your hand and place it on the counter. You turned, realising he’d given you minimal space to move. He was so close you could smell the gel he used in the shower. Woodsy and smoky, like a forest cabin. He smelt fucking great, but to be honest, you were too busy trying to avoid eye contact to care.
“S’that why you look like your pet just died?” You knew he was trying to be teasing, trying to lighten the mood, trying to create a comfortable environment for you to open up in, but you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. With a deep breath, you stepped to the side and out of his reach, opening the fridge to look for something to make a nice creamy sauce with.
“Look, Logan. I appreciate it, and what you’re trying to do, but at the same time, I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. So, and I mean this with the utmost respect, fucking drop it. I’m tired and I have genuinely had a long day, what more do you want me to say?”
Logan blinked. And blinked again for good measure. He wasn’t expecting you to be so sharp. He didn’t know why he wasn’t expecting it, but you really took him by surprise. That seemed to be all you were doing since the moment he met you. Though this one stung a little more than he cared to admit. “That might’ve been the nicest fuck off I’ve ever heard. But it was still a fuck off.” He shrugged. He knew deep down you were right. You didn’t know each other, and maybe was was expecting a little too much from a three-hour friendship. If he could even call it that. 
“I didn’t mean–” You turned back from the fridge just in time to watch his disappearing form leave through the door, hearing his footsteps recede back up the stairs. You cursed inwardly, hating yourself for how you handled the situation. Though, looking at the pasta on the counter, you had an idea as to how to fix some of this. 
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It had been roughly half an hour since he’d left you in the kitchen, recognising you needed space, and in all honesty? Retreating to lick his own wounds. He didn’t know why he wanted you to open up so badly. It wasn’t like he had a long-lasting friendship with you. He met you today, for fuck’s sake. Only hours ago. Shit, this morning he still didn’t think you existed! Logan groaned at the memory of you shutting him down, wishing he’d handled the situation differently, and stopped prodding when he knew he should have. Fuck!
He’d just managed to resolve to come and talk to you, before there was a thump at his bedroom door, followed by another. That wasn’t any kind of fist knocking… 
With deliberate caution, Logan stood from his bed, shining claws sliding through his knuckles as he approached the door, only for his nerves to be calmed when a familiar scent wafted through the cracks in the door. He didn’t dare get his hopes up until he turned the handle, pulling the door open to reveal you, stood before him, two steaming plates of pasta held impressively in one hand, and two bottles of larger in the other, your foot raised to kick the door a third time. 
“Before you slam the door, I brought peace pesto pasta, homemade so you know it’s good.” You were honestly surprised he opened the door, though you eyed his claws cautiously. Who did he think it was?
Logan noticed your line of sight, retracting his claws to cross his arms, a brow raised. “Peace pesto pasta?”
You nodded. “Homemade, don’t forget.” Logan smiled slightly at the hope in your eyes. “And also beer so you physically can’t turn me down.” You raised the two bottles in your hand, and he sighed as if you were a nuisance. Unfortunately for him, that couldn’t be further from the truth. 
“Homemade peace pesto, beer, and…?” 
You stuck your tongue in your cheek. “An apology.” You reluctantly admitted, looking anywhere but his face. “Can I come in or are you gonna stare at me all evening? These aren’t the most balanced plates, been a while since I was a waitress so…” you mumbled in explanation, earning yourself a quizzical look.
“You were a waitress?”
“Yes and it was a long time ago but we can talk all about it if I can set these down somewhere they won’t fall on your feet,” you said hurriedly, borderline pleading with your eyes for him to let you in. It wasn’t as if he was about to say no, there was just something comical about the way you were managing to hold everything in your hands. 
With a click of his tongue, he gestured for you to enter with his head, closing the door behind you as you set one of the plates down on the window seat, rubbing the red skin of your arm where the hot plate had ever so slightly burned you. He instantly felt bad, crossing the room with the intention to take your arm to look at it before you stuck it into the shadow on the wall, removing it again to reveal your skin pristine again.
“It wasn’t that bad, just uncomfortable,” you shrugged, handing a plate and bottle to him. Logan shook his head at what he’d just seen, giving you a look of ‘fair enough’ before taking the plate and beer gratefully. How long had it been since someone cooked for him? Though you’d done it as a peace offering, it still warmed his heart slightly. That and the fact it smelt fucking divine. 
“I’m sorry…” you started, mindlessly poking your pasta around your plate with your fork after making yourself comfortable on his window seat. He guessed it used to be your window seat, but it still made him happy how comfortable you looked. “The Professor told me something in the meeting and… rattled me, that’s all,” you shrugged, popping a few pieces of green pasta into your mouth and chewing thoughtfully. 
Logan decided to wait for you to continue, cracking open the bottle top of his beer with his teeth. Raising a brow as you looked over at him in slightly disturbed awe. 
“How did you not just break your jaw?” you asked, flabbergasted at his seemingly endless pool of abilities. 
“Not much can break it, considering my skeleton’s adamantium.” Logan was starting to like when you gaped at him in shock, admiring the way you jaw went completely slack, eyes wide. 
“Wait, how don't you– ohhhhh…” It had taken you a while to notice just how much the bed dipped when he sat down. No wonder he was so ripped, he had to be that strong in order to fucking walk around. “Any other secrets you're hiding?” You asked, before instantly regretting the question when his eyes met yours.
“You wanna talk about keeping secrets now?” He asked curtly.
“Walked into that one…”
“Yeah, you kinda did.” 
You sighed, fiddling with the bottle cap of your beer. Not to remove it, just to feel the sensation of the almost serrated edges helped to ground yourself. 
“You know about my mutation, the whole shadow-walking thing?” You asked, to which Logan responded with a nod, finally taking a bite of the pasta you’d made. Your heart swelled with pride as he paused, looking from the food to you with an impressed smile. “So, turns out, it’s nothing like Kitty’s. It’s not phasing like we originally thought, but something totally different.” You started to explain to an intensely listening Logan. “Kitty phases through things. I actually become the shadows I enter. Like, it’s not still my body but just in the shadow, my molecules break down to literally be the shadow,” you could tell he was trying to understand, his head tilting slightly to the side in a way you genuinely found cute. “It’s like, I’m holding water in my bare hands,” you started to demonstrate, placing your plate and bottle down beside you to cup your hands in front of you. “And this, this is my body. My corporeal body. But, when I dive into shadows, that body breaks down,” your cupped hands splayed apart, fingers spread to simulate a liquid splash. Logan nodded thoughtfully through mouthfuls of pasta. “How Jean explained it was that my molecules are held together with some kind of thread, and I control that thread, but it’s a constant strain… Like, I can feel my body being held together. And it just… I don’t know. It scared me I guess.”
The room fell into silence as you finished your explanation, Logan setting his somehow clean plate to the side, leaning his elbows against his spread knees, beer bottle clasped in both hands. “I uh, don’t really understand what’s scary bubs, sounds like this is an opportunity to develop it, right?” he asked, eyes searching your face for any sign you were reassured.
You sighed, the back of your head softly hitting the wall behind you. “Well apparently we’ve been lucky so far, and my control over this string or thread or whatever the fuck is stronger than they thought but… I don’t know, I guess what first went through my mind was what would happen if the thread snapped. Would I just stop being able to shadow walk or–”
“Would you stop altogether, and be able to do nothing but shadow walk,” Logan finished, realisation dawning on his gruff features. You nodded slightly, not wanting to speak anything into existence. 
“Exactly.” You whispered, staring into your borderline untouched pasta. You honestly didn’t know what to do, and you didn’t know what could be done. Surely, at this point, it was just a matter of time, right? The thought hit you like a lightning bolt. If it was just a matter of time, you just burdened this poor man, who you’d only met hours ago, with the knowledge that, eventually, you were likely just simply dissolve into nothing, cursed to live forever in the shadows of others. “Anyway, yeah, that’s why I had a face like, how did you put it? Like my pet just died,” You did your best to imitate his voice, hoping to shit it would lighten the mood of the room, but it only earned you a look of sympathy.
Fucking sympathy. You hated sympathy.
You’d come in here in the hopes to make things right with him and apologise for how you were earlier, but the one thing you really didn’t want, and never fucking wanted, was sympathy. You sighed heavily, preparing yourself for whatever ‘I’m so sorry this is happening speech’ he was clearly getting ready to spill. 
But for the umpteenth time in the short while you’d known him, Logan surprised you. Taking your bottle of beer from your side, he cracked the lid off with his teeth, the same as before, before handing it back to you. You, as stunned as you were, managed to take it from his hand, the soft skin of your fingertips brushing the backs of his own. You smiled in resignation, raising your bottle in some tragic excuse of a toast. ‘To the inevitable’ you wanted to say, but you physically bit your tongue before taking a long sip of the slightly bitter liquid.
“It won’t come to that,” you’d forgotten, in the period of silence, that you were waiting for him to say something. You tilted your head in confusion, and it honestly took all of Logan’s willpower not to launch into you and wrap you up in his arms. He really needed to pull himself together. “Look, I was pretty fuckin’ helpless when I came here. And I know you remember the state Marie was in. Neither of us thought we were worth savin’, but look at us now,” in complete honesty, Logan still didn’t think he was worth saving, but that was neither here nor there. “He’ll help ya. You’ll get this under control. And it ain’t all bad. He already said you had more control than he thought,” You could feel his eyes search your face as you closed yours. Maybe he was right. Charles had said you had more control over these strings than he thought. 
Logan was right. That was a good thing.
“Well, we’ll see tomorrow. That’s when we really start everything. We have another meeting before we’re straight into training, seeing if we can really develop this mutation before I cease to exist. No pressure right?” You half-joked, your lips quirking up into what you hoped was a smile. Or, at least, a lopsided one. 
Fuck he wanted to kiss you. Kiss you. When the hell was the last time he’d felt like this toward anyone? He hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone in goddamn years, and here you were, a woman he didn’t even believe existed a few hours ago, waltzing into his life and making him feel things like wanting to fucking kiss you. 
“I uh… ya know I wanted to apologise too.”
Well, that caught you off guard. “Wh– wait what? Why? What for?” you couldn’t help firing off questions at speeds you didn’t know you were capable of, utter bafflement contorting your features. 
“You were right. I don’t know you. And you don’t know me.” Logan watched as your face transformed from confusion, to hurt, to acceptance. 
“Yeah…. I did say that didn’t I? I–”
“But,” he interrupted, stopping you mid-sentence. “That doesn’t mean I don’t wanna know ya…” Logan almost laughed aloud at how your eyes went comically wide. Did you know how cute you were? When you weren’t telling him to fuck off, that is.
“I– Uh, okay, sure… what d’ya wanna know?” you asked, hoping to fuck you didn’t sound ridiculous. If you didn’t, Logan didn’t seem to mind or care. 
“You can start of by tellin’ me how or where you learned to cook so well,” you scoffed loudly, rolling you eyes. “Nah I’m serious kid, that was fuckin’ great,” Logan leaned against the headboard, an arm positioned behind his head as you too made yourself comfortable again on the window seat, resting your elbow on your raised knee.
“Kid? Do you know how old I am?” you asked, smirking slightly. Though you were a little embarrassed, there was no way you’d show it. Kid? Did he seriously think you were that young? 
“Do you know how old I am?” he retorted, that same self-assured glint dancing in his eye. You peered at him in scrutiny, emphasising how hard you were looking at him by squinting intensely.
“I’d put you at around like, early thirties? Maybe mid? Am I hot or cold?” you asked, kinda hoping he was in the same sort of age bracket as you were. Not for any specific reason of course… just for… science.
Yeah. For science.
Though your heart deflated slightly at his bark of a laugh. “Not quite. Try mid to late hundred and thirties. Give or take a few years.” Once again you gaped at him, mouth wide open, jaw completely slack. He could get used to that sight. Dangerously used to it. “Take a picture bubs, it’ll last longer.”
“B-but… how–? Y–? Hundred and– what the fuck?” You couldn’t get over it. Though your mind was still reeling, you managed to recover quickly. “Why you don’t look a day over ninety. You’re in good shape for a fossil, though I was wondering why I was getting a lot of calls from museums recently… probably looking for their exhibit back,” you smirked wildly whilst Logan just stared at you, trying his fucking damnest not to let his disobedient lips quirk anywhere other than down. 
“Ya done?”
“I’ll probably think of some more. But, in all seriousness, how?” You asked, and Logan couldn’t detect anything other than genuine curiosity.
“Regenerative. I heal real quick, but that also keeps my body in good condition. Dunno exactly how old I am, but it’s around hundred and thirty,” he shrugged, and you whistled lowly. “So?” he prompted, and you looked up.
“So what?”
“How’dya make the pasta?” 
You snorted in amusement, before launching into an explanation about your brother and how he always had an interest in cooking and had taught you to cook simple things, like how to make a béchamel sauce, or how to make pesto from scratch. And if you weren’t so caught up in your storytelling, you would have noticed Logan drinking in every damn word like he was parched for conversation. Listening to you talk, the cadence of your voice, the way you pronounce every letter and the way you occasionally drop a letter, it was hypnotic. You didn’t have an abundance of energy, and whether that was simply because you were exhausted after the day you’d had, or if that was just who you were, he didn’t know. But honestly? He didn’t really care. 
As long as you kept talking, that was all that mattered. If he could take your mind off tomorrow, or your situation by letting you ramble about the smallest of things, he would. And he would pretend the whole time like he was doing this for you. And not because, at the end of everything, he liked listening to you. 
“Anyway, that’s how you tell the difference between a Thoroughbred and a Quarter Horse. And I will not make that mistake again.” You’d somehow weaved from topic to topic, the conversation ebbing and flowing for hours, you both taking turns in sharing random stories from your pasts, little anecdotes that gave context to who you both were as people now. And it was only thanks to the brief silence and the conveniently timed chime of the clock did you realise how late it was. Or rather, how early.
It was one in the fucking morning. How the hell did that happen? Your eyes slid back to Logan, who at some point had made himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat, and you watched as he had the same realisation. Holy shit.
“I should probably–”
“Look, you should–”
You both started to speak at the same time, before pausing to let the other talk first. It was gross and awkward and cringey but, for the life of you, you couldn’t find it in you to care. 
You stood, gathering your long abandoned, though now empty plate, and crossed the room to grab his from the bedside table. You heard Logan sigh heavily behind you in what you assumed was exhaustion. You couldn’t blame the man. You’d been talking for hours. 
Logan followed you to the door, holding it open for you as you stepped out into the hallway. You placed the crockery onto the floor, freeing your hands to wrap your arms around his neck in a similar embrace to the one before. Only this time, you felt his strong arms return your hug, wrapping you up tightly against his chest.
“Thank you. For letting me talk for hours. You don’t need to pretend you enjoyed it, by the way. But thank you all the same.” You stepped back, and Logan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yeah well, you brought peace pesto and beer. How could I say no?” He quipped, and you chuckled lightly. He wasn’t about to admit he enjoyed your company far more than he should have done, and he sure as shit wasn’t about to admit he wasn’t pretending to like it. His eyes softened at your laugh in a way he’d stopped them from doing all evening. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
You peered up at him, a knowing spark dancing in your iris. You noticed. Of course, you’d noticed. That was almost exactly what you’d said to him earlier. The same hopeful lilt and all. 
“Sure.” Was all you said in return, before picking up the empty plates and bottles off the floor, and turning away to head back down the hallway. You refused to look back, worried that if you did, you’d run straight back to his room and never fucking leave.
But if you had. If you had just turned to look over your shoulder, you would have seen him leaning against the doorway still, eyes following you down the stairs, and lingering still, long after you’d disappeared.
Yeah… he was definitely in trouble.
764 notes · View notes
puppym3 · 4 months ago
Note
Heyaa! Is it possible to request an enemies to lovers one bed trope smut with bangchan? Like maybe reader and skz go on a trip but there’s not enough rooms so they decide to pair u guys up so that y’all can make up or whatever. Little did u know that Chris has a massive crush on u and was only being insufferable because he thought he didn’t have a chance but little did he know you thought he was cute too. Maybe he pops a boner while sharing the bed and becomes embarrassed but you decide to take matters into ur own hands and dom him for treating u liek shit lol 💀
↠ friction ↺ and ⊜ fire
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*+:。.。 bangchan x fem!reader
wc: 4.8k
warnings: MDNI! 18+, smut, enemies to lovers, one bed trope, dom!reader, servicetop!bangchan, subby!bangchan, brat!reader, one-sided pining (kind've?), they're both idiots, piv, unprotected sex (sighh), they traumatize the other members, oral (m. rec), creampie, (lmk if i missed any)
a/n: thank you so much for the suggestion anon hehe.. it was so good and i hope i served what needed to be served!! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
*+:。.。
Stepping out of the van after a long, winding drive, you stretched your arms above your head, relishing the cool mountain air. The cabin loomed ahead, a cozy refuge nestled in the heart of the forest, promising a weekend of relaxation and fun. You were close friends with the boys and these trips were a regular occurrence. However, there was one member you couldn't stand.
Bang Chan.
Ever since you first met, the two of you had bickered incessantly over the most trivial things. Whether it was your taste in men or the way you folded your clothes, Bang Chan always found something to nag you about. You rolled your eyes just thinking about it. How could someone be so insufferable?
It reminds you of the time you had just broken up with your ex-boyfriend after you found out he had been cheating on you the entire time, you had unknowingly been the side piece throughout your relationship. Bang Chan warned you about him the entire time, saying he wasn't good for you. And now that things had crumbled, he was in your ear about how right he was. It frustrated you.
"Hurry up! We need to check out the rooms!" Felix excitedly called out, breaking your reverie.
You grabbed your bag and followed the boys into the cabin. As they scattered to explore, you took in the rustic charm of the place. It was perfect, except for one glaring issue: you only spotted eight bedrooms.
"Hey," Minho announced, holding up a hand-drawn map of the cabin. "There are only eight beds."
"Great," you muttered under your breath.
The boys gathered around, frowning at the realization.
"Well, who wants to share?" Seungmin said, glancing around.
"I don't mind sharing," Jisung shrugged.
Everyone seemed to share a knowing glance across the room.
"How about Y/N and Chan share a room?" Minho suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye.
You and Chan simultaneously snapped your heads toward Minho, protests ready on your lips, but the rest of the boys quickly agreed.
"Yeah, maybe you two will finally stop bickering," Jisung added, smirking.
"Fine," Chan sighed, his eyes meeting yours with a challenge.
"Fine," you echoed, refusing to back down.
"Awesome," Jeongin laughed nervously, trying to defuse the tension in the room. "We can check out the rest of the cabin tomorrow, so why don't we call it a night?"
"Yeah, I'm exhausted," Changbin agreed, calling out from his room, already laid out on his bed like a starfish.
You followed Chan to your room and set down your bags. The bedroom was spacious, but the lack of a second bed left a bitter taste in your mouth.
"Guess you're sleeping on the floor," you smirked, taking note of the single queen-sized mattress.
Chan raised an eyebrow and looked you up and down.
"Like hell, I am. You can sleep on the floor," he argued, his eyes glinting with amusement.
You let out a scoff, but before you could open your mouth, Felix appeared in the doorway.
"You're both responsible adults, you can share a bed."
You shot Felix a glare.
"Goodnight!" He quickly ducked out of the room, leaving you and Chan alone.
Chan crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face.
"Don't get any ideas, pervert," you sneered, brushing past him to get ready for bed.
"Wouldn't dream of it, darling."
The rest of the evening passed in tense silence. The two of you were cordial when brushing your teeth and washing your faces, but once you were settled under the covers, you turned away from each other, as far as you could go without falling off the bed.
Lying there, staring at the wall, you couldn't help but feel the tension in the room. It was more than just annoyance; it was a palpable electricity that seemed to spark every time you argued. You hated to admit it, but there was something about Chan that intrigued you, something that made your heart race in the most frustrating way.
And you were overly aware of how attractive he was, secretly ogling him when he would perform on stage. It annoyed you, a lot.
You shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body and it was driving you crazy. The more you tried to ignore him, the more aware you became of his presence.
Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. You rolled over, determined to confront him, but the words died in your throat. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted, and his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
He looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, that you couldn't bring yourself to wake him. Instead, you watched him, admiring the way the moonlight illuminated his features.
You traced the line of his jaw with your eyes, trailing down to his full lips. Your heart skipped a beat as you imagined what it would be like to kiss him.
You quickly shook your head, berating yourself for even thinking such a thing. Chan was the last person you would ever want to kiss.
But the more you denied it, the more you thought about it. What if his lips were soft? What if he kissed you gently, his hands caressing your body?
The thought made your cheeks flush.
"Can you stop eye-fucking me? I'm trying to sleep."
Chan's voice snapped you out of it, and you quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks burning.
"I wasn't- I just, wanted to say something," you stammered, the defensiveness in your voice showing.
The fact that he was so cocky and attractive drove you crazy, you wanted to put him in his place then and there, you wanted to pick another fight with him, the fights you had him ignited a certain fire in you that you couldn't explain.
"What is it?"
You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. What was wrong with you? You couldn't even form a coherent sentence around him.
"Just..." you scoffed, giving up when the words in your head scrambled.
"Goodnight."
With that, Chan rolled over, putting his back to you.
You huffed, annoyed at the way he dismissed you. You knew he was trying to get under your skin, and it was working. You glared at the back of his head, wishing you could slap the smug look off his face.
But even as you silently fumed, you laid in bed next to him. Unable to relax, you tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. But the bed seemed to grow smaller with each passing moment, and the space between you felt like an infinite chasm.
You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his mere presence setting your nerves alight. You were overly aware of his breathing, his steady inhale and exhale. And the longer you lay there, the more restless you became.
"Will you stop moving?"
His voice was barely above a whisper, but the sound made you jump.
"I can't sleep," you replied, keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling.
"Try harder."
You scoffed again, turning your head to look at him, and before you could come up with something to spit back at him, your gaze lowered, and your eyes landed on the very prominent tent on the bed.
Your eyes widened, and you quickly averted your gaze, but the image was burned into your mind.
Your cheeks flushed, and your heart began to race. Chan was hard. The realization sent a jolt of excitement through your body.
Now this was an argument you could easily win, you could definitely embarrass him with this.
So why couldn't you say anything? Why was the heat in between your thighs growing undeniably unbearable?
You couldn't stop yourself from stealing another glance. Your eyes trailed down the length of his body, coming to rest on the bulge straining against his pants.
Chris turned over to face away from you. You couldn't help but smile. You knew he was embarrassed, and the thought of him being uncomfortable made you feel satisfied.
Without hesitation, you moved closer, pressing your body against his. Your chest was pressed against his back.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice wavering.
"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice in an innocent tone as if you had no idea what he was talking about.
"Don't act stupid."
You couldn't help but smirk. You could hear the embarrassment in his voice, and it only made you more confident.
"You know exactly what I'm doing," you said, your voice dropping to a whisper.
"This isn't funny."
You couldn't believe how much this was affecting him.
"You're telling me," you purred, sliding your hand down his torso.
Your fingertips brushed over the hard outline of his cock, and you felt his breath catch.
You couldn't resist, he was a brat, and now it was time for payback. You wrapped your fingers around him, feeling the heat of his skin through the fabric of his pants.
He sucked in a sharp breath, and his hips jerked involuntarily. You bit your lip, trying to contain your own excitement.
"You're a fucking tease."
"Says the one with a boner," you retorted.
"I'm serious," he breathed.
"So am I," you said, tightening your grip.
The sound that escaped his lips made you shudder.
You knew that if you didn't stop now, there would be no turning back.
But you didn't care. You wanted this.
You grabbed his shoulder, pulling so he was lying on his back. His eyes were wide, his breath ragged.
Without a word, you straddled his lap, the thin fabric of your pajama shorts doing little to hide the heat between your thighs.
"You're a brat, you know that?" he groaned.
You smiled, your confidence growing by the second.
"Maybe, but I think you like it."
You rolled your hips, and his cock twitched beneath you.
"Fuck," he cursed. You couldn't help but smirk. He was clearly losing his composure.
"Don't get too cocky," he said, grabbing your hips and grinding up into you.
Your breath hitched, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how turned on you were.
"That's funny, coming from you," you managed to say, rocking your hips against him.
He was rock hard beneath you, and the friction was sending waves of pleasure through your body.
The outline of his cock through his pants was aligned perfectly with your cunt, gently brushing against your clit through each movement.
It was agonizing.
You leaned forward, your lips grazing his ear.
"Is this what you want? Then beg me."
You could feel his resolve breaking, and the satisfaction was almost overwhelming.
"Please," he choked out, the shyness poking through his cocky demeanor felt rewarding.
"I'm not sure I heard you."
You rocked your hips again, the friction making your head spin.
"Fuck, please" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
You could tell he was embarrassed, but you didn't care. This was too good to stop now.
"You're a pervert," you whispered, tugging at the waistband of his pants. "Getting hard from sharing a bed with a girl?"
He couldn't meet your eyes, his face flushed red.
"It... it's not like that..." he murmured, but the tent in his pants told a different story.
You slipped your hand inside his boxers, wrapping your fingers around his length.
He gasped, his eyes widening.
"You-" he breathed.
"Tell me what it's like then," you teased, stroking him slowly.
His jaw was clenched, and he looked like he was struggling to form words.
"I'm waiting."
"It's because- fuck, it's because of you."
His response caught you off guard, and your heart skipped a beat.
"What?"
You couldn't hide the surprise in your voice, and the way it caused you to clench around nothing.
"It's you," he breathed, his gaze finally meeting yours.
You could see the desire in his eyes, and it took your breath away.
"But don't we hate each other?" you protested, unable to hide the hint of confusion in your voice, feeling like maybe you lost the plot somewhere along the way.
"I don't hate you," he admitted. "I just- I thought I did. But it was only because I couldn't handle the fact that I liked you so much."
You couldn't believe your ears. Chris liked you? It made your heart flutter, a million fantasies running through your head in a second. Why did this excite me so much? Why did I like hearing those words coming out of his mouth?
"You like me?" you echoed, unable to hide the disbelief in your voice.
"God, you're dense," he groaned, his frustration evident.
Before you could respond, he sat up and pulled you in, his lips were on yours, and his hands were gripping your hips.
You melted into the kiss, the taste of his lips and the warmth of his skin setting your nerves on fire.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, and you moaned, the sound muffled by his mouth.
His kiss was fervent, lips melding with yours in a way that made your mind go blank. Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as he pulled you closer, pressing you against him.
You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his heart pounding in time with yours. The kiss deepened, tongues dancing in a rhythm that felt both urgent and unrelenting. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of mint toothpaste and something uniquely Chris.
His hands roamed over your body, caressing your back before settling on your hips, guiding your movements as you rocked against him. Each touch sent sparks shooting through your veins, and the friction between your bodies was driving you wild.
You couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All you could focus on was the feel of his lips, the warmth of his skin, the sound of his breath, heavy and labored.
When you pulled back, you pushed him back to lay on the bed.
"You really are a brat, huh?" he panted, his eyes dark with desire.
"You have no idea," you smirked, tugging his boxers down his hips.
His cock sprung free, and the sight of him made your mouth water. He was big, bigger than you expected, and the thought of him inside you made your stomach twist in anticipation.
You wrapped your hand around him, stroking him slowly.
He let out little breaths, his head falling back. You could tell he was struggling to hold himself together, and the sight made your stomach flutter with butterflies.
This feeling wasn't unfamiliar, you felt this way sometimes when you watched him on stage, his expressions, his confidence, everything about him. It was why you pretended to hate him. You were attracted to him, and the thought terrified you.
But right now, in this moment, there was no room for fear. All you could focus on was the feel of him in your hand, the taste of him on your lips, the heat of his skin.
You moved down the bed, kneeling between his legs. You couldn't take your eyes off him.
"Fucking hell," he cursed, his hand tangling in your hair.
"I'll be gentle," you teased, wrapping your lips around his tip.
The sounds that came from him was unlike anything you had ever heard, and it only fueled your desire.
You swirled your tongue around his length, savoring the taste of him. He was intoxicating, and you couldn't get enough.
You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks and sucking gently. Your hands searched his body as you tasted him, feeling every inch of his chest and every detail on his body.
He was shaking, and you could tell he was holding back. And you had no intention of stopping, not until you had your fill of him.
"F-fuck," he breathed, his hand tightening in your hair. The feeling of him tugging on my hair sent shivers down my spine.
You hummed in response, the vibrations making him gasp.
You worked him slowly, teasing him with your tongue and lips. He tasted amazing, and the sound of his breathless moans was music to your ears.
You could feel the tension building in his body, his thighs twitching as he fought the urge to thrust into your mouth.
The power was intoxicating, but it wasn't enough, you wanted more.
You released him with a pop, his length coated in your saliva.
"Don't move, I'm going to ride you."
"What?"
You could see the shock on his face, and it only made you smile.
"I'm going to ride you," you repeated, climbing back onto his lap.
"But- wait- are you sure?"
His expression was comical, and you couldn't help but laugh.
"Chris, do I need to spell it out for you?"
He shook his head, his eyes wide.
"Good, because I don't have the patience for it."
With that, you pushed your panties to the side, letting your legs spread wide so he could get a perfect view as you prepared yourself for him.
His breath caught in his throat, and you could feel his eyes on you, watching you as you slipped a finger inside yourself.
You couldn't believe how wet you were, your arousal coating your fingers as you stretched yourself open. You could feel him twitch beneath you, his length throbbing with need.
You added another finger, moaning as you worked yourself open. He was still watching, his gaze locked on the movement of your fingers as you fucked yourself on them.
"Fuck," he cursed, his hands gripping your hips as he tried to keep himself from thrusting up into you.
"Impatient, are we?"
He shot you a look, and you could see the desperation in his eyes.
"Fuck you," he said, though his words lacked any bite.
"I thought that was the plan," you teased, withdrawing your fingers and wiping them on his thigh.
"God, just- please," he breathed, his resolve crumbling.
"Since you asked so nicely."
You positioned yourself over him, his tip brushing against your entrance. You were already so wet, so ready for him.
"Are you sure, with no protection?"
"If you ask me one more time, I'll leave you here to take care of this yourself," you threatened.
You were on the pill, and you were too needy now to look back, the thought of feeling his raw cock stretching you out also made you super impatient.
You inserted the tip, the feel of him filling you up was overwhelming. He was big, bigger than anyone you've ever been with, and the stretch was almost too much.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice strained.
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you adjusted to his size.
"Fuck," you breathed, sinking down until he was buried to the hilt.
"You're so fucking tight," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening.
"And you're fucking huge," you replied, the pressure and heat building within you.
He couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I've never had complaints."
"Shut up," you smiled, pulling him in for a kiss.
Your tongues met, dancing together in a messy tangle. He kissed you like he was starving, and you could feel his hunger for you.
You began to move, slowly at first, rocking your hips against him. His breath hitched, and his hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements.
You broke the kiss, gasping for air.
"God, that's it," he groaned, his head falling back. His hands pushing at your inner thighs to spread your legs further.
His eyes intently staring at your body made you shiver, you grabbed at the hem of your shirt before pulling it off, giving him a better view to take in.
He groaned, his gaze roaming over your body. "So fucking beautiful," he murmured, his hand trailing up your thigh.
"I could say the same for you," you replied, tracing the lines of his abs with your fingertips.
He couldn't take his eyes off you, and the attention was overwhelming. You increased the pace, rolling your hips as you rode him. He was buried deep inside you, the sensation of him filling you up was incredible.
"God, yes," he breathed, his fingers digging into your skin.
You moaned, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. He was hitting all the right spots, and the pleasure was building, coiling in the pit of your stomach.
"Don't stop," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.
You couldn't bring yourself to form words, the sensation was too much, your head was spinning.
You leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss, the taste of him only adding to the pleasure.
His tongue darted out, tracing your bottom lip.
"Fuck, Chris," you breathed, breaking the kiss.
He was breathing heavily, his gaze locked on yours. "Use me to come," he urged, his hands on your hips encouraging you.
"Chan," you moaned, his name on your lips like a prayer. You could feel him throbbing inside you, and the sensation was incredible.
"Come for me," he groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.
And then, the pleasure washed over you, the waves crashing into you with such intensity that you saw stars. You felt yourself tremble as you clenched over him, falling on his chest as you cried out, whimpering as you lightly grinded your high out.
He broke when he felt you cum on him, the soft breaths coming out of his mouth, and you could feel him twitch inside you, his cock throbbing as he came, his cum filling you up.
The feeling was unlike anything you've experienced, and you could feel the pleasure coursing through your veins.
When he finally stilled, the two of you were a panting, sweaty mess. You could feel the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through your body, and the sensation was incredible.
"Fuck," he breathed, his fingers digging into your skin.
"That's exactly what we did," you teased, your breathing slowly returning to normal.
He couldn't help but laugh, burying his face in your shoulder. "You're insufferable," he murmured, his breath tickling your neck.
"Oh, and you're not?"
"I guess we're perfect for each other then."
He raised his head, his eyes meeting yours. The sincerity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but press a light kiss to his lips.
"Maybe," you conceded, the word slipping out before you could stop it.
"I'd like that," he smiled, the dimple in his cheek deepening.
Your heart swelled, and you leaned in for another kiss, a little longer than the last.
"So... I'm guessing this means you like me too?"
His question caught you off guard, and the thought made your heart flutter.
"You could say that," you replied, unable to hide the hint of hesitation in your voice.
He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. "That's not an answer," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance.
You bit your lip, the uncertainty rising within you. You couldn't help but worry that this was a mistake, that it was all a joke.
"Hey," he said, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. "Talk to me."
"It's just... are you sure? I feel like you're fucking with me again, this is just too good to be true," you said, completely honest and a little too vulnerable in front of him.
"Oh my god," he sighed, his frustration evident. "How much proof do you need? If it wasn't obvious, I don't usually let people ride me."
You couldn't help but laugh, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it.
"Fair enough," you conceded, leaning in to steal a kiss.
He hummed, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
"I think I'm going to enjoy proving myself," he murmured, his fingers running along the curve of your ass.
"Is that so?"
He nodded, the glint in his eye making your heart skip a beat.
"I promise you'll be begging for it next time."
"That's a bold claim," you challenged, unable to hide the amusement in your voice.
"One that I'll gladly prove," he said, his tone playful.
"We'll see about that," you teased, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
"Don't challenge me unless you're prepared for the consequences."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, the idea of him having his way with you was intoxicating.
You giggled, stealing a quick kiss before climbing off his lap.
You couldn't help but laugh looking at him, "God, you're so cute," you teased, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before padding over to the bathroom.
You woke up early, the sunlight streaming through the window and the sound of birds chirping outside.
You groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and sitting up.
The events of last night rushed back, and you couldn't help but smile, the memory of his touch, the taste of his lips, and the sting you felt on your legs from the workout.
As you looked around, however, you were met with an empty bed, the sheets beside you cold.
A wave of panic washed over you, the realization that he wasn't here was jarring. You couldn't help but think that it had all been a dream, the thought of us doing anything already seemed unreal to you.
You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of the door opening, and the sight of him made your heart skip a beat.
"Morning," he greeted, a wide smile on his face.
You felt way too giddy seeing his face, seeing him just made you want to plant kisses all over his face.
"Morning," you replied, the warmth spreading across your cheeks.
"Did you sleep well?" he asked, walking over to sit on the edge of the bed.
You couldn't help but stare at him, the sight of him in a plain t-shirt and shorts, his hair tousled and his skin glistening from his morning shower.
"Well, you didn't snore." you teased.
He rolled his eyes, the gesture making you giggle.
"I'm glad my princess could sleep without any disturbances, then."
The words made your heart skip a beat, and you were left speechless. You couldn't believe how quickly he had gotten under your skin.
You couldn't deny the effect he had on you, the way your heart raced when he was close, the way your body craved his touch.
You bit your lip, trying to push down the feelings that threatened to overwhelm you.
"You okay?" he asked, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.
"Yeah, just... I was worried, that's all," you confessed, unable to meet his gaze.
He frowned, clearly not understanding. "Worried? Why?"
"I thought... I thought it was all a dream, that I was just imagining it."
He couldn't help but laugh, the sound filling the room.
"You're too adorable," he smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
"I really do like you," you countered, the words escaping your lips before you could stop them.
His expression softened, the laughter dying on his lips.
"I really do like you, too"
You couldn't help but melt, the words echoing in your head.
You leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you.
Suddenly you heard loud pounding knocks at your door.
The door opened and Minho with a tired face walked in, Seungmin shyly trailing behind him.
"I'm glad you guys... 'made up', but for fucks sake," Minho complained.
"Couldn't you have saved that?" Seungmin joined in, equally mortified.
You couldn't help but blush, the thought of your friends hearing the two of you was embarrassing.
Chris, trying to keep a straight face, couldn't help but giggle a little.
"Okay, okay, we're sorry," you apologized, holding your hands up in surrender.
"Sorry," Jisung says, barging into the conversation, "I'm just so happy for you, I've had to endure this guy whining about you for the past 2 months."
"Shut up," Chan blushed, his cheeks tinted red.
"Oh my god, is that why you were such an ass? You were pining?" you teased, pinching his cheek.
"Don't," he whined, pulling away from your grasp.
"Well, Jeongin left last night, he fled to a hotel room." Minho chimed in. "I should've just done the same."
"Why didn't you?" Jisung asked, clearly amused.
"I don't know, I was hoping the walls would be thick enough."
"Lee know, oh my god," you blushed, hiding your face in Chan's shoulder.
"You were loud, we could hear you from our room, which is right next to yours. We can also hear everything," Minho complains.
"Okay, okay," Chan concedes.
"So are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?" Felix pipes up.
"What elephant?" Changbin asks, who clearly hasn't caught on.
"These two fucked," he says, just now coming into the conversation.
"Okay, that's enough, I'm leaving." You say, your face red with embarrassment.
"I'll come with," Chris agrees, and you both get up and leave the room.
"Oh my god, can they just hate each other again?" Seungmin complains.
"For the love of god, yes," Minho agrees.
*+:。.。
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too-much-tma-stuff · 9 months ago
Text
Finally getting help (prt 4)
Masterpost
The bats worked through the night, coordinating and researching everything that needed to be done. Distortion showed up on the camera which they assumed was Vlad trying to get in but he didn’t manage it. After he finished trying from multiple angels including somehow from directly above (well Zatana did say invisibility, intangibility, and flight were the minimal powers they should expect from creatures of the infinite realms.) He turned human again and spent a long time banging on their front door.
He tried to call the cops but commissioner Gordon called Bruce directly to get the full story then told Vlad it could be dealt with in the morning. Zatana was also coordinating people heading to Amity, a full on raid of the GIW, and the Fentons.
Batman and Superman were collecting all the information that the raid team was sending out and workshopping public statements they could sent out to the public and the government about the unacceptable things they had found and the steps the JL was taking to fix it. The government was not going to be happy they knew, with the JL ‘over-stepping’ into their business and actually getting the word out about the atrocities a branch of their government and their pet scientists had been planning. The JL needed to get out ahead of it before the narrative could be twisted against them.
It was first thing in the morning when they did a live broadcast from the watchtower with Batman, Superman, and Zatana telling the world about the parallel world existing harmlessly along side their own, and the way the government tried to exploit it. The atrocities committed under the name of the Anti-Ecto acts with the ignorance of the public as a cover.
It was at the same time that Constantine, Dick, and Cas were raiding the Fenton’s home. Of course they were armed, but so were the bats, and they were used to fighting people who were armed. It wasn’t a particularly hard fight.
A redhead was sitting wide eyed at the kitchen table. “Can’t we just have one normal day!” She suddenly snapped but she was glaring at her parents, standing up and slamming her hands on the table.  “First you send Danny away with Vlad even though you KNOW they hate each other and it’s a school day and now this! What did you do to bring the heroes down on us!?”
“I don’t know Jazzybear!” Jack half whined as he was forced into power supressing cuffs to neutralize his minor super strength and sat down in the living room.
“I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding, don’t worry sweetie,” Maddie added, both of them were dressed in jump suits which did not help their supervillain vibes.
“it’s not a mistake mate, you’ve been messing with shit you really shouldn’t. And that portal in your basement is a fucking beacon welcoming a war. You’ve gone unchecked for too god damn long, we’re taking over things now.” Constantine told them before stalking down into the basement with Tim on his heels, Batman would be joining them as soon as they were done their press conference.
Cas stayed to watch the parents and Dick approached Jazz gently. “Hey can I talk to you in private please? It’s about your brother,” He said gently and she stiffened immediately. Looking at him in a way that made him feel like she could see straight into his soul and froze him to the spot. After a moment though she just sighed and nodded, beckoning to him to follow her upstairs, to a room that was probably Danny’s not her own. She sat on his bed and grabbed a bear that had been sitting on the edge, waving for him to sit at the desk.
“So, what do you know?” She asked with a sigh.
“Well, last night Vlad took Danny to a Wayne Gala, one of Bruce’s daughter Cas is really good with body language and clocked that something was wrong so she and one of the other kids got him away from Vlad and out of the party. I guess he really needed some adult support because he broke down and told them a lot, about the Phantom thing, the ghosts and… something you’re not going to like. But first I want you to know he’s safe, Bruce Wayne is a licensed foster parent and he’s taking good care of Danny, you can come live with them too if you want.
“We’re going to deal with the ghosts and the GIW and everything else now, I can’t promise by the end of this you won’t need somewhere else to go. I have a feeling if Batman and the Martian family have anything to say about this your parents will end up in prison for their unethical experiments.”
“As long as Danny is okay,” Jazz said firmly. “I was only staying to take care of him anyway, just get me emancipated and a scholarship for Gotham U so I can study while still being close to him I’ll be fine. I’m almost 18 as it is.”
Dick nodded, she was a smart and driven girl, she knew what she wanted, he could respect that. “Now, the thing you won’t like…” he trailed off and took a deep breath. “Danny is pregnant.”
“What!?“ Jazz blanched, gaping at him for a long minute. “That can’t be right! I mean I knew he was trans but he’s usually only interested in girls, how would he even-“ She cut off her eyes widening. “It was Vlad wasn’t it?” She gritted out with an expression the promised excruciating violence.
“Yes,” Dick said shifting awkwardly in his chair.
“Right.” Jazz said and got up, coldly calm. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” She grabbed a baseball bat from next to Danny’s bed that seemed to be glowing slightly then marched to the other side of the room, opened a cabinet and pulled out two odd looking guns. Before Dick could say much of anything she had vaulted out of the window and taking off down the street.
“Oh dear,” Dick muttered faintly before heading back downstairs. “Hey Cas can we turn on the news, some sort of local station?” He asked. Cas nodded and searched around for the remote, turning it on to find the channel was already on local news.
Vlad was already on there, talking about how it was awful Bruce Wayne had Kidnapped a local child Danial Fenton, and he could not be allowed to get away with this just because he was rich! But that didn’t last long, they watched for a few minutes before a blur of red hair and blue rushed past the camera.
“YOU TOUCHED MY BROTHER YOU CREEP!” Jazz said as she came out swinging and she must have quite the arm because her first swing sent him nearly flying off the stage. He scrambled to get up as she lunged at him again.
“Now Jasmine you’ve clearly been misinformed, I didn’t do anything-“ His muffled voice was cut off as she swung the bat again and he yelped as she hit him in the stomach.
“YOU GOT HIM PREGNANT! YOU DID THIS! YOU SHOULD BEHIND BARS NOT BEHIND A PODIUM YOU FROOTLOOP!” She shrieked as she swung again and this time he managed to dodge. The cameras following them as Jazz chased him down the street, the sound of his supplications and her shrieking fading out as they became more and more distant.
It took a frantic moment for the camera angle to switch to something else, maybe a drone, which was able to follow them down the street.
“You Don’t UNDERSTAND! I didn’t want to hurt him! I just wanted a perfect son! If he had just agreed to be my son none of this would have happened! When I knew it failed I told him to let them die!” Vlad yelled at her, though that did NOT seem to comfort Jazz at all. She had devolved into shrieking book titles like curses as she chased him with the bat and shot at him with the guns though her aim didn’t seem very good.
Well they had him admitting to it on camera now. As he watched a new actor joined the fray, a girl in a red jumpsuit holding a blaster.
“You did what to Danny!?” She demanded as she pointed the blaster at Vlad.
“Oh cheespuffs!” Vlad breathed, his eyes widening as Jazz trailed off letting who must be Red Huntress take over the chase as Vlad shouted about how he had made her! He had given her her weapons she couldn’t use them against him! Which did not seem to be stopping her.
The camera fuzzed out for just a second and then Valery was chasing a ghost with red eyes and a white outfit. Cas was laughing silently at the show and both of the Fenton parents seemed to be in shock. A few minutes later Jazz walked back in through the front door looking tired.
“Turn that off please,” she sighed as she put the bat down.
“Of course,” Cas agreed and picked up the remote again, turning off the tv. 
“Vlad didn’t actually do that, did he Jazzy?” Jack asked softly, he sounded so hurt, as if he had any fucking right!
Jazz looked at him blankly. “How many times have we tried to warn you about him? How many times has Danny told you he didn’t feel safe with Vlad? But as usual you couldn’t see past your own desires. I’m going to go see if the trenchcoat guy needs any help getting into your files,” She sighed before vanishing downstairs. 
Dick glanced at Cas, and then followed them, she would have no trouble watching the Fentons and staying quiet whereas Dick felt like he was about to explode. Batman joined them before long and between the three of them they shut the bulkheads on the portal and locked them, secured dangerous chemicals and devices, and downloaded everything they could. There were plenty of prototypes and blueprints, and stuff that could generously be called research.
It was obvious these people were geniuses but it was even more obvious that at some point they had become careless and obsessive. Half of the writing on the blueprints wasn’t legible, dangerous chemicals were not in proper containment, and the weapons were not locked up. Looking at all of this it wasn’t surprising that two of the people they had been involving in their research suffered exposure, it was a surprise more hadn’t. It was easy to tell when Bruce came down he was horrified, it was in the way he froze when he saw the lab, as if his brain was struggling to process just how irresponsible the Fenton parents had been.
“You must be Jazz, it’s nice to meet you. Danny speaks highly of you,” He finally rebooted to say when she waved at him. 
“I love my little brother, I always did the best I could to keep him safe from… all this,” Jazz said gesturing at the lab with a sigh. “I wish it had done any good.”
“You did plenty of good,” Dick put in. “Trust me, to a kid having someone care about them can make all the difference. 
“All those nights I patched him up after he came back from fighting ghosts. He healed fast but still. I can’t believe… he’s already been through so much and we knew Vlad was up to something! Ellie said she was our cousin but she looked just like him, I should have kept a closer eye on-” She cut off and shook her head. “He’s a good kid, of course if he couldn’t give the babies up, even if it would be better for them if he did. I hope he knows I’d support him either way, I hope he didn’t not tell me because he thought I’d be upset at Him.”
“I’m sure he didn’t,” Dick assured her gently. “Being a big sibling is hard, I know. But trust me you’re doing a great job, better than I did with my brothers,” he said, patting her shoulder. “You can ask him yourself later though. We have a lot to get done today to make sure he’s safe.”
She nodded stubbornly and doubled down on her work, directing them occasionally to where she knew they’d find more weapons or logs. She knew her way around the lab to a disturbing extent. 
Bruce and Dick both got a notification from Agent A saying that after a substantial sleep in Danny had woken up and was having breakfast. He seemed worried about the family but he was taking it alright, especially since he knew they were busy people. It did motivate Dick to clear things up as soon as they could so that they could get back to Danny though. The last thing he needed was More stress!
They had plenty of evidence of the Fenton parents breaking the law to call the police and have them taken away which gave them all the time they needed to strip the house. They got everything they could and decided to leave Constantine at the house to watch the portal until they could figure out how to shut it down completely without causing any damage. It seemed unstable so they didn’t want to risk it just now, especially without Danny’s input because according to Jazz Danny had made genuine connections in the Infinite Realms. 
They wrapped up this stage of the investigation before dinner after being up for about 36 hours. Of course they weren’t Done, there was still plenty to do investigating the government, how they’d gotten away with this and if they had any other nasty tricks up their sleeve. They’d have to manage any backlash from this unilateral move, and they’d have to figure out what to tell the public about Danny since Bruce would be fostering him. But all that could be done after having a family dinner with their new brother and a nap. 
part 5
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roosterforme · 5 months ago
Text
Mr. Right Now Part 2 | Hangman x Reader
Summary: As soon as you decide that Jake is the one you want for your first time, he's very clear that you'll be playing by his rules. You're ready to get this over with and get on with your life, but he's determined to make you admit that you're allowed to feel good. And maybe you want to enjoy this with him.
Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, sexual touching, 18+
Length: 3800 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist
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"Jake," you whispered as his soft hair glided through your fingers. You liked his name. He was handsome. He was older. His lips tasted delicious. He had green eyes.
Why had you been so focused on Rooster? Oh, right. Because your roommate, Kylie, said he was good after she slept with him. She told you all about the Navy bar and the different guys with call signs, and you made it a point to remember that Rooster was the one who she said was the gentlest. 
You froze. Jake had his hands around your waist, his hips pressing his semi hard length against you. Those pretty green eyes were locked onto yours, and you knew it would be a long shot to get him to agree, even now. But something else was bothering you about this whole scenario. You suddenly wondered if Kylie and Jake ever had sex.
For some reason, that idea alone was enough to piss you off. Going blindly after Rooster would have been no big deal, but Jake seemed to actually give a shit about you. He just took the time to make sure you were really twenty, and he kept questioning you as to why you were here in the first place. In this bar where you apparently stuck out like a sore thumb.
But you wanted Jake specifically for your first time, whether he had already fucked Kylie or not. You leaned in and kissed him again, and he seemed more than willing now. You hoped your little skirt and tight shirt weren't going to fail you after you made it this far. He just needed to take care of this one, basic thing for you, and you'd be on your way. Then you could go out with Cooper who you were actually so ready to date, and you wouldn't completely embarrass yourself with him.
You let yourself touch Jake's hair again as you asked, "What's your call sign?"
His hand felt huge against your butt, and you went willingly when he pulled you even closer. "Hangman," he said in that cute Texan drawl. That didn't sound familiar at all, and Kylie was pretty proud of all the call signs she'd managed to collect. Maybe she hadn't gotten to him yet. Or maybe she wasn't his type. That thought alone made you smile even more as he continued to touch you.
"Okay, Hangman," you whispered against his mouth in the middle of this crowded bar. "I'm ready for you to take me to your place."
He kissed you gently and shook his head. "Let's go out to my truck, and I'll drive you back to your apartment or dorm."
God, he was such a good kisser, but he was really grating on your nerves at this point. You were a little nervous that he would keep saying no and then ruin your chances with Rooster or one of the other guys in attendance tonight, even though they would be clear backup options now. You whined in annoyance. "Come on, Jake."
"No. I'm not taking you home with me," he replied firmly. 
You stomped your foot; you really wanted to lose your damn virginity, and you couldn't give it away. "You don't even have to take me back to your place. We can fuck in the parking lot."
"Jesus Christ, Darlin'. That's not happening either," he said, looking scandalized. "Definitely not for your first time. And a leather mini skirt is an impractical outfit to get fucked in anyway."
You tipped your head back and groaned. "Well how was I supposed to know that?" Then you looked at his handsome face, pretty much ready to call it a night and try again tomorrow at a different bar. "I'm doing everything wrong."
He had the nerve to laugh at you again. "No. You're really not. The skirt is just going to make guys want to work harder for it. And honestly, somehow the sneakers are doing something for me?"
A small glimmer of hope flashed inside you as you ran your fingers along his stubbled cheek. "Yeah?"
"God. Damn. It." He was practically growling now as he started to haul you toward the exit. "If we're doing this, then we're doing it right."
"Okay!" you replied immediately, not really sure what you were agreeing to as he led you outside to the dark deck, letting the door close behind the two of you. The loud interior of the bar was a thing of the past now as he took your chin between his thumb and fingers and kissed you a little rough with the ocean as the new soundtrack. 
You almost dropped your purse as you tried to wrap your arms around his neck, already wanting more of him. "If you really want to do this," he said between kisses, "then you're playing by my rules." You were practically whimpering as his lips found the side of your neck, because why did his words sound so sexy?
"Absolutely," you whispered. "Jake's rules."
He half carried you out to the dimly lit parking lot as he muttered, "This is a terrible idea." He squinted at your face and added, "You seem like the type who never learns her lesson."
"I resent that," you said, running your lips along his ear even as your feet left the ground. "I have a 4.0 GPA. I always learn my lessons."
He grunted as he helped you into what you assumed was his truck before standing outside the door with his hands on his hips. "Like I said, you're a real smartass. Now listen up. I'm going to be as gentlemanly as I possibly can during this whole thing."
"Whole thing?" you asked, wondering what he could possibly mean. He just needed to get completely hard, shove his cock in you for a little while, and then call it a night.
"Yeah," he grunted, his green eyes a little wild in the glow from the truck's dome lights. "I'm going to make sure you come. I'm going to be as sweet as I can be. But you need to be clear if you're not having a good time, or if you want me to stop. If you can't abide by those basic ground rules, we're absolutely done here."
Oh. He was really taking this seriously. You chewed on your lip, and his face became more apprehensive. But you weren't debating with yourself whether or not his ground rules would work for you. You were actually trying to figure out why he was already being better than anything you anticipated tonight. Anticipated ever.
"Oh, my god," you gasped. "Are you married?"
"What the fuck kind of question is that?" he shouted, looking angry now. "Of course I'm not married!"
You reached out to him and grabbed his hand. "Sorry! It's just that you're sweet, and you seem to be taking this really seriously! I was just checking!"
Jake scowled, and his tone was one akin to hurt. "I'm not letting you make yourself believe that all you deserve for your first time is a careless fuck in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, and I'm certainly not letting one of those drunk assholes maul you apart!"
The more you thought about it, you really didn't want to be manhandled or have to pull your skirt up in a bathroom stall to make the best of things tonight. You squeezed his hand which you were still holding as you softly said, "Thank you."
He ran his free fingers through his soft hair and muttered something that sounded like, "Yeah, don't thank me yet." Then he kissed your lips and said, "Buckle your seatbelt," before he let go of your hand and closed the door. 
-------------------------
You were pretty quiet on the drive back to Jake's place, but you didn't seem as nervous now. If anything, he thought his nerves were ramping up while yours were calming down. He couldn't remember how many condoms he had left in his bedside drawer, and when he tried to estimate how many he might use tonight, he almost missed his turn. Was he really going to do this?
"You live by the beach," you remarked, playing with the hem of your tiny skirt while you looked out the window.
"I do," he replied, mentally cancelling his morning run if you were going to stay over. The implications of letting you spend the night were creeping up on him, but kicking you out was absolutely not going to be an option. You likely had the entirety of the rest of your life to be disappointed by men, but he wasn't going to set that precedent. 
"How old did you say you were?"
Jake felt a little dirty now when he said, "I didn't. But I'm thirty." He tapped the brakes when he was about a block from his house. His truck already smelled sweet like your perfume or shampoo, and he glanced at you when he turned onto his street. "Let me take you back to your place."
You laughed softly as you leaned a little closer to him. "Negative, Hangman. I have a twin bed and a nosy roommate. I think we're better off doing this at yours."
"Come on, Darlin'. That's not what I meant, and you know it."
He coasted up to the stop sign on the quiet side street; he could see his little, white cottage on the next block, but he turned to look at your face in profile as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were looking straight ahead, chin proudly held high as you said, "If you really don't want to have sex with me, then turn right and head back toward Pomona Avenue."
It wasn't that he didn't want to. You were all pouty lips and feminine curves and perky tits, and yeah... he did want to fuck you. And he wanted to make it so good, you'd ask for more. He wanted to take his time and pull that first orgasm from you while he gave it to you exactly how you needed it. When he didn't turn his truck back toward Pomona, you looked at him and whispered, "It's okay if you're not into it, Jake. You can take me home. You don't have to worry about me."
He made a noise at the back of his throat and licked his lips. "That's not it." He wanted to say more, but for now, he answered your concerns by moving his foot to the accelerator and driving straight through the intersection. You visibly relaxed in the seat next to him, and a few seconds later, he was pulling his truck up to his house. You were looking out the window toward his cottage, and when you reached for the door handle, he let his hand rest on your bare knee. You turned his way immediately, and he said, "You never agreed to play by my rules."
"I agree."
He shook his head. "Then tell me what my ground rules were."
You bit your bottom lip, and he could feel you squeeze your legs together as you whispered, "You said you'd make sure I come. And that you would be sweet. And that if I tell you I'm not having a good time, you'll stop." Jake let his hand slide a few inches higher, and you responded by easing your legs apart and telling him, "I agree with the ground rules."
Jake nodded once and said, "Looks like I'm stuck with you now."
You kissed him. Somehow you caught him off guard every time you did it. You were tentative and inquisitive, and when you moved closer, his hand eased up your thigh. "You're stuck with me," you murmured between kisses. "For probably at least a half an hour." Jake started laughing, and you pulled away slightly. "What's funny?"
"Darlin', you're playing by my rules. You want me to teach you about sex? Half an hour isn't even going to be enough to get you warmed up."
You looked surprised as you reached up to run your fingers through his hair. "Teach me about sex? I thought you were just going to fuck me and call it a night."
Jake moaned. "Definitely not. Now let's get started."
--------------------------
You found yourself in Jake's living room, eyes darting around, trying to figure out what to focus on first. He was an actual adult with award commendations from the Navy and a massive TV. You felt small in his space, and some of your bravado melted away as he chuckled and said, "I'd offer you a drink, but, you know."
You tapped the toe of your sneaker against the hardwood floor and said, "According to my ID, I'm the same age as you. I like white wine, thanks."
He was trying not to laugh as he walked into his kitchen, and you followed along behind him, watching as he reached for a wine glass and filled it with ice water. "Enjoy your chardonnay, Darlin'," he drawled, and now you were also trying not to laugh.
"Thanks," you whispered before taking a sip. You tried to set your purse on the counter, but the clasp caught the edge, and both of your IDs came sliding out along with a strip of three condoms. When Jake met your eyes you said, "I made sure I was prepared before I left my place. I'm young, not stupid."
"But the Hard Deck?" he asked, closing the distance between your bodies. "Not your smartest move, parading around in there with a fake and some condoms. The guys that hang out there wouldn't know their ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to making sure a woman enjoys herself."
"You hang out there," you told him with a little eye roll, and his fingers came up under your chin. He tilted your face up until you were staring into his pretty green eyes, and your core clenched with need.
"I don't make promises I can't keep," he told you, and you absolutely believed him. "Now, you said you're a virgin, but why don't you go ahead and tell me how experienced you are."
You swallowed hard, chin still held in place by those rough fingers. "Is that really necessary? I'm ready to go, Jake." You set your glass of water on the counter next to the condoms and reached out to touch his solid abs through his shirt.
"There's a little more to it than that," he told you, stroking your jaw with his thumb. "Let's talk and get to know each other a bit."
The last thing you wanted him to know about was your complete lack of experience with guys. "We don't have to do that." 
"Yeah, well I want to," he told you, finally releasing your chin.
"You're very old fashioned," you said with a smirk, and your hands settled on his belt.
"I'm a lot older than you, smartass. Humor me." Instead of responding with anything about yourself, you held eye contact with him while you yanked the end of his belt free from the belt loops and started to unbuckle it. A smile danced along his lips, and he said, "Fine. I'll start. I'm a Lieutenant in the Navy. I grew up in Texas, but I've lived all over the country. My favorite food is chili. I love running on the beach in the morning before it gets too hot out. I have four sisters. And I'm a Scorpio."
You had the button of his jeans undone, and you were easing his zipper down as you said, "You do seem like a Scorpio, Lieutenant Jake." His green eyes were still on yours as you officially went further than you ever had with a guy by letting your fingers run along his impressive length through his underwear. He licked his lips as you reached the tip and then dipped your hand inside his snug boxer briefs. He was warm and velvety soft while also getting harder by the second, and you gasped at the look in his eyes. "Does this feel good?" you asked softly as his pupils widened.
He nodded once, and his voice sounded raspier as he told you, "Yes."
"Good," you mused out loud, unable to contain your smirk as Jake grunted softly. "If you like it, then the guy from my physics class who I want to go out with will probably like it, too."
Suddenly, Jake's hand was on your wrist in an iron-tight grasp, preventing you from stroking him. "What?" you gasped, his hand tightening incrementally as something dangerous flashed in his eyes.
"Lesson number one. When you're with a guy, and you have your hand wrapped around his cock, you shouldn't be talking about a different guy."
You pouted up at him and said, "I already told you earlier that part of the reason I wanted to lose my virginity was so it would feel good when I get with Cooper."
"And I'm telling you right now that you're done talking about him," he grunted. "Got it?"
A chill of delight ran up your spine as you whispered, "Yes. Understood."
His grasp on your wrist released immediately, and he leaned in, kissing you softly one time. "That's just a surefire way to get a guy jealous," he informed you, and another little chill ran through your body as you considered that maybe you just made him a little jealous. 
When you ran your hand along his length again, his lips were back on yours immediately, and he moved you so your leather covered butt was pressed against the edge of his countertop. Then he took your hips in both of his big hands, and you whimpered into his mouth. He teased you, pulling away slightly just so you'd chase him for more. He was throbbing against your palm as your other hand found his hair once again. 
He was sexy. Even the rough stubble on his face felt delicious as it rubbed your chin and cheeks. Then, just as his lips started to migrate along your jaw, he carefully reached for your wrist again, withdrawing your hand from his jeans. "Yes, it feels good, but this isn't about me, Darlin'."
When his lips skimmed down your neck before settling on your pulse point, you whimpered his name. Then he sucked gently on you there while he toyed with the zipper at the side of your mini skirt. He was big and strong, and he smelled good, and as he worked your zipper down, inch by painstaking inch, you shifted so you were rubbing against him.
As soon as his fingers dipped inside the elastic of your underwear, it felt like you were clenching around nothing. Usually you had to use your fingers for a while to get that kind of result, but he hadn't even touched you there yet. Then you realized you were wet. Really wet from his lips and his touch. Your thong felt damp against your skin as your skirt started to slide down your hips, and your voice was a little too loud as you gasped and said, "Okay, I'm ready. I'm definitely ready. Let's do it. Where's your bedroom?"
Jake's lips released your neck. He brought his mouth up to your ear and told you, "Absolutely not. Not yet."
Your skirt slipped a few more inches as Jake ran his nose along the shell of your ear. "God. Do you need me to ask nicely or something? Please?"
"You're playing by my rules. Did you forget? We're not rushing through this." Your skirt dropped to the floor at your feet as Jake pulled away and looked at your face. "Unless you're not having a good time, Darlin'. Say the words, and I'll stop."
You had no control of your body as your head tipped back, a low moan escaping as you said, "I don't want you to stop." You panted as you rubbed your wet panties against the open fly of his jeans. "It feels so good. But I want more."
Jake's hand found the back of your head, tilting it forward until you were looking at him again. "What do you want me to do to you?" he asked as one of his calloused fingers played with the lace trim along the top of your underwear.
"I want you to fuck me," you whispered with a moan, nodding your head as he smirked at you. 
"Really, pretty girl? You sure that's it? Because it sounds more like you want me to make you feel good." His fingers stroked up to your belly button and back down again as you bucked against him. "I think you know by this point in our conversation that you're allowed to enjoy this. And I can tell that's what you really want." 
"What could possibly feel better than getting fucked?" you asked in desperation. "I want you to fuck me!"
"No, you don't," he whispered, voice harsh and needy. He kissed you hard on the mouth two times before adding, "You want me to make you feel better than you've ever felt before. You want me to touch you with more skill than you can touch yourself. And none of that has to do with me fucking you. Tell me I'm wrong."
You bit down on your lip as his hand reached around to your butt, and suddenly you knew for sure it wouldn't have been like this with Rooster or any of the other guys at the bar. They would have fucked you and unloaded into one of the three condoms by now. Maybe you wouldn't have even gotten wet for them. You'd probably be back at your place in bed, planning on seeing Cooper on Monday morning with a new outlook on life. But it wouldn't have been like this.
Jake wanted more than that for your first time, and now you were starting to see that you could have more as his rough fingers kneaded into you. If you were already about to come just from rubbing yourself on him, then playing by his rules and letting him take his time was sounding better by the second.
You took a deep breath, let your lips brush against his and told him, "I want you to make me feel good."
"That's more like it, Darlin'," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."
----------------------------
Jake is about to show you that he's a man of his word. He keeps his promises, and he's already made some to you. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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petew21-blog · 3 months ago
Text
Friends with benefits
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Two long time friends Trent and Brett. A classic story. Met in kindergarten and have been friends since. Grew up together. Spent their holidays together. Graduated together. But then stopped seeing each other as often. Why? Because adult life ain't easy. Brett had to find a job while Trent got into college, graduated and on top of that became a fitness influencer. Brett started his Twitch account and became a gamer, which he had time for, cause how he was constantly doing a different job, depending on what he could find. But both of them always took some time off for a beer with their buddy.
This is Trent
Although he doesn't appear like that, he is a 24 year old male with young looks
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On the other hand Brett is also young, but his looks are a bit more mature. Maybe it's because of all the hair
This is Brett
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So hairy.
Normal guys, right? Well something was about to change very soon
Friday, August 2nd, 5 PM
Brett:"Hey, dude. Wanna grab a beer later tonight?"
Trent:"Yeah, sure. I am down. Is 8:30 ok? I gotta finish a video"
Brett:"Oh yeah, totally fine. See you then"
Friday, August 2nd, sports bar, 8:33 PM
At the bar Brett waits patiently, only his leg is slightly shaking. Trent comes in through the door. It's kinda funny, cause Trent used to be really insecure and not confident. Now he looks basically like a god. But still, he has this cute shy looking guy whose face doesnt match his body and the fact that he's 24. Brett was kinds jealous, most of the people that didn't know him always thought he was older because of his looks. Trent had the opposite problem. Always had to show ID whenever he went. Yet Brett was probably more jealous about his life in general. He finished school, took great care of his body, which now could help him hook up with anyone he would set his mind to.
Brett:"Hey, maaaan. How are you doing?"
Trent:"Heyyy. Yeah good. You know, single influencer life, haha"
Brett:"The ladies must be driving you crazy"
Trent:"If only it were just ladies. Haha. You should see the messages some of these gay dudes keep sending me. It's insane"
Brett:"You tell me. They always send random shits to my chats while playing. But it's mostly dumb kids."
Trent:"I think we should find you a date for tonight"
Brett:"Nahhh, fuck it. I'm not in the mood. I just wanna chat with my bro."
After a few beers
Brett:"Shut up, you did not!"
Trent:"I swear. She came on to me without a word."
Brett:"So what did you do?"
Trent:"You think I put up a fight? Haha"
Brett:"Maaaan. I want this stuff to happen to me to. That's so hot"
Trent:"Come with me to the gym then, I bet more chicks woukd be into you if you would gain some muscles"
Brett:"You calling me fat?"
Trent:"No, just saying that all that body hair would be good to match with a good body. You're just a walking gorilla right now"
Brett:"Oh shut up twink! Haha"
They finished their drinks, said their goodbyes and went home.
Brett felt amazing. He really needed to get a beer with his best friend. He came back home, sat behind his computer and searched Dark web. He already knew what he was looking for. He wanted to mess with Trent. Just a another one of his pranks. All he needed was Trent's personal item. He found the body swapping website. He read the rules and conditions and filled out his and Trents name. The only next step he had to follow was to go to sleep. And so he did. Only taking off his shirt in the process and collapsing on the bed. Not even brushing his teeth
Brett woke up feeling better than ever. He was used to have a hangover by now, but today he felt great. He opened his eyes and immediately noticed the different sheets. He looked around. This is Trent's place.
Brett:"Trent?" he said, but he heard Trent's voice.
He turned around to get up
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His body. He has a different body
Brett:"Holy shit. It worked" he said amused. He looked down at his now soft chest. He got up
Brett:"Oh wow. getting up is so different when you have these hard muscles"
He went to the nearest mirror. And there he was. Trent in his glory. Brett was so happy right now. His prank worked. He is now inside of his best friends body. And the pranks probably won't stop there. Now he can mess with him all he wants. But not now.
He looked from top to bottom how tall and slim his body was. "Almost no hair anywhere. Lucky guy"
He took Trent's phone and snapped a photo to send it to Trent in his body. He knew it would take a while for Trent to wake up so he proceeded in his exploration.
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He felt his curly hair. "How come you don't even have widow's peak? So unfair" He traced his jawline, now with tiny baby hair that Brett wouldn't even call a beard. But his sight was now caught by those nice Calvin Klein's. He looked around as if there was someone in the room with him who would judge him. He pulled on the waistband
Brett:"Just as I thought. Also shaved" he grabbed his new dick, that was getting harder and harder by the second, when suddenly his phone received a notification. he let go of his dick
It was Trent. Brett:"Haha, this is gonna be good"
There was a photo of Brett's body, observing his hairy armpits in shock
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Trent in Brett's body:"Hey. Got any idea why I am a gorilla now? And why that gorilla looks exactly like you?"
Brett:"Surpriseee. And fuck you"
Trent:"So this is your doing?"
Brett:"Yeah, I kinda wanted to prank you somehow for all the pranks and the gorilla jokes. Joke's on you ape man"
Trent:"Fuck you. So this is reversible?"
Brett:"Sure, man. No worries. We'll meet tonight at the bar again and chat how our day went?"
Trent:"I don't know how to feel about this, bro"
Brett:"Just try enjoying being another person"
Trent:"Do you realise there are some no go things including intimate stuff and hygiene?"
Brett:"Sure I do. I'm already holding your dick in YOUR hands right now"
Trent:"Dude! Not cool. I meant more stuff like shitting etc. But yeah, this too."
Brett:"I gotta say Trent. You have a very nice dick"
Trent:"I'll comment on your size when I find it in the bushes I guess. Have you never heard of trimming?"
Brett:"Keeping it natural, baby face"
Trent:"Fine, let's see each other tonight at 8, ok?"
Brett:"Enjoyyy" Hangs up
Trent:"Jesus, this guy. I hope he doesn't fuck up something or someone"
Starts observing himself. "I must say, It feels good to look like a mature man and not a teenager. All of this hair. And the moustache is hot too. I could never grow this thing"
Trent looked down and had a mischievous thought. "Well, Brett. Since you have already held my dick, I think it's time to step it up. Gonna see if you can last longer than I do" Trent said with a smile and whipped out his new hard hairy dick
Saturday August the 3rd, bar, 8:04 PM
Brett is sitting amused in the bar, eating chips on the table and drinking beer. Winking at the ladies looking at his direction.
A waitress came by his table:"Want another?"
Brett noticed his old incoming body:"Sure, and another one for my friend who just arrived. Thank you, sweetheart" he said as his flirtatious look almost seduced the local waitress
Trent:"You need to stop!"
Brett:"What? I was just flirting"
Trent:"Not that. Stop eating those chips. God knows how many calories you ate already"
Brett:"So you don't mind that I was flirting with her?"
Trent:"Nah, I don't care. I jerked off your dick for like the fifth time half an hour ago"
Brett:"What? You beast. I would have never expected that. Cool. You have a really good dick to jerk off too. I didn't expect to shoot so far tho. Made a bit of a mess"
A couple off bikers started eavesdropping to their conversation and turning heads
Trent:"You might want to quiet down, or we're gonna get beaten up for mistakenly speaking like gay guys"
Brett:"But you gotta admit that my body is not so bad, right? All the hair and everything. You like it"
Trent:"It's not bad, but I prefer being in my own body. I'm used to it."
Brett:"Ok, I'll pretend I didn't hear the part before about masturbation. But what do you say? We didn't even have enough time to see what the life is like in our new bodies. It's only been a day"
Trent:"And your point is?"
Brett:"Let's stay swapped for a while. We can swap back anytime we want. It's reversible. We know almost everything about each other, so pretending to be the other one will be easy. You'll just teach me your workout routine, I'll show you... what games to play and how to set up a livestream and we'll figure it out"
Trent:"Livestream? That's all you got?"
Brett:"Come on, man. We got nothing to loose"
Trent:"I don't know man. It's gonna be complicated. I agreed to leave for a few weeks to work at one of our gym branches in another city. And now you'll be the one that has to go. I think now is not the best time"
Brett:"So? I can update you about everything. We can chat all the time. We can call. And I got nothing to do. Actually, you might need to find some job for those few weeks. And there's never gonna be a better time then now. We're single, ready to mingle. So let's enjoy that month"
Trent:"You wanna stay swapped the whole tíme I'm gone?"
Brett:"Yeah, I'll be a fitness instructor/viral star and you'll ne enjoying my chill life"
Trent:"Chill life. Man, you won't even recognise your life when we'll swap back"
Brett:"So you agree?"
Trent:"Yeah, what the hell. I'll be a gorilla for a month"
Brett:"Deal. Now, let's see if you'll have a better game in finding a hookup then me"
Sunday, August 4th
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Brett sends a text to Trent:"Why do I feel like my body still hasn't gone through puberty?"
Trent:"Piss off. Yours looks like it went trough yours several times."
Brett:"Nah, gotta be honest. I'm really enjoying this lean figure and hairless body"
Trent:"And my dick..."
Brett:"Haha, yeah and your dick. How are you doing in my body?"
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Trent:"Feels pretty weird to be so hairy, but gotta admit it's a nice change. Like... feeling so manly"
Brett:"Yeah, but tip for that hairy stomach. Don't cum on it. It's really irritating to get cum from it"
Trent:"Never had the issue in my body, so yeah. Thanks for the tip"
Brett:"No problem. I had to try it out in yours haha"
Trent:"Doesn't this feel kinda gay to you? All the dick and jerk off talk. Appreciating each other's bodies"
Brett:"Nah. We're exploring, man. Who knows if we ever get that chance. Gotta enjoy it"
Wednesday August 7th
Trent:"How are you settling in?"
Brett:"Yeah. Pretty great. I just jerked off to some porn"
Trent:"Ew. I mean the appartement"
Brett:"Whooops. Sorry. Right. Yeah it's nice. Very clean. Very modern"
Trent:"It's yours only for a month so don't destroy anything there"
Brett:"It's kinda poetic right. New appartement, new body, new job"
Trent:"I don't see anything poetic about me playing games in front of a camera"
Brett;"Dude you have to. My fans are gonna wonder what happened to me"
Trent:"Fine. I'll log in tonight. By the way. Dude your feet smell so much when you work out."
Brett:"Work out? You took my body to the gym?
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Trent:"Yeah. I had to show off these bushes somewhere, right?"
Brett:"Ahhh thanks man. Looking good"
Trent:"And I think oke girl was checking you... me out"
Brett:"If you can score than go for it. I'm actually late for a date. Or... how do you call it if you're just gonna have dinner and fuck?"
Trent:"Standard hook up man. Please be safe. Wear a condom. And watch our foe those carbs, man."
Brett:"Sure thing, bye"
Monday, August 12 th
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Brett:"Dude do you like ever have to shave your face?"
Trent:"Sure I do. I just don't have to do it so often as you. Btw can I please shave off this moustache?"
Brett:"Absolutely not. You'll learn to love it and appreciate it. Just like I will your baby face"
Saturday, August 17th
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Brett:"I have to admit I really love showing off your muscles man. I have been doing it constantly at every occassion. So many people turn their heads to take a peak"
Trent:"Yeah I get it. It helps with the confidence a bit"
Brett:"A bit? I feel like I can beat any fucker whk crosses me"
Trent:"Brett, please don't beat anyone in my body"
Brett:"Just kidding, man. How have you been"
Trent:"Well I tried being consistent with the gym. I think your body is doing pretty well"
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Brett:"Daaaamn bro. I look good. You really do take care of my body really well"
Trent:"I was actually thinking I could offer this for money. Swapping with people, doing their routines and then swap back. But that's a talk for another time after we swap back"
Brett:"Yeha, sure. Cool idea. Anyway... how was the streaming?"
Trent:"I don't know, man. I think they are desperste for me to say your catchphrases, but they are so cringe."
Brett:"Nah, you have to do that. That's how you get into Tiktoks and become viral"
Trent:"Honestly. I can't wait to get back to my body and to my life back. So we will swap on September 2nd?
Brett:"Yeah. I suppose. Depends how the work will be etc. Anyway I gotta go man. Talk soon"
Trent to himself:"It feels like he's avoiding me with amswering more and more. Trent rubbed his hairy chest, recalling his sweet soft pecs that he missed.
Thursday, August 22nd
Trent:"Hey, man. How is it going?"
Friday, August 23rd
Trent:"Hey. I just wanna know if you're ok. I just wanna talk about the reversal."
Saturday:"please call me back as soon as possible"
Sunday, August 25th
Brett:"I'm ok"
Trent:"What the hell happened?"
Brett:"Nothing I just felt like I needed a break from phone and that stuff"
Trent:"Brett you didn't answer the phone for 4 days"
Brett:"Ok, I was avoiding you, cause I kinda fucked up and was afraid to tell you"
Trent:'What did you do? Is my body ok?"
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Brett:"Yeah your body is unharmed. Nothing that bad. We just had a party in the appartement. Broke the TV and... I had unprotected sex with one girl. She didn't know if she was pregnant or not. So I was waiting. And congrats. You're not gonna be a dad"
Trent:"Brett..."
Brett:"I know. I'm so sorry. Won't happen again. Promise. I just got drunk once and it led to this. I'll be good now"
Trent:"Please, don't do anything anymore. I want to switch back"
Brett:"Nah man. We still gotta week to finish. You said until September 2nd."
Trent:"I didn't know you'd do something like this"
Brett:"Please Trent. I'm begging you. Just that one week"
Trent:"Fine. But don't do anything else!"
Sunday, September 1st
Brett:"Hey. Are you packed yet?"
Trent:"Hey. Not really. I planned on packing tommorow. You can come and help if you got time"
Brett:"Sure. I'll come by"
Monday, September 2nd
Trent arrives to the appartement. Brett is on the couch playing video games
The TV is new and there is a PlayStation on the table
Trent:"You didn't tell me you got back into gaming and that you bought all this."
Brett:"Yeha, I missed it. I thought to myself that you'd like it too. So I bought it. By the way. You should see how the fans dig it"
Trent:"Fans? You're live streaming in my body?"
Brett:"Yeah. The gamers are so into it when I'm flexing in the spare time. I even got a viral Tiktok already!"
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Trent:"I think we should swap back, Brett. My life is out of your control now."
Brett:"I'm just using all the goods, man. You don't like my body anymore?"
Trent:"Stop changing the subject. I want to swap back"
Brett:"Ok... but on one condition"
Trent:"You want money?"
Brett;"Nah I want to have sex with my body. I want to have sex with you."
Trent:"You have lost your mind"
Brett:"Oh come on. Admit it, that you thought about it. Who gets the chance to fuck their body? To watch their body in the most animalistic moments from somebody else eyes?" Brett flexes his biceps to let Brett watch
Trent:"Brett..."
Brett stands up and goes towards Trent
Brett:"You know you want to kids thus face. To suck this hard dick" he says holding tightly his hardening bulge
Trent:"I... I do. I want to suck my dick"
Brett:"Atta boy"
They begin making out. The fast movements heading towards the bedroom could be described as chaotic, but for them it was a dance of passion. Brett was ripping his old clothes from his old body was all over his body, kissing his neck. Sucking each part of his skin
The kissed even more
Brett began to be more dominant. He gripped Trent's now receding hairline and pushed him down to suck his dick. Trent was choking. But did his best to swallow most of the shaft he now had. He had his dick in his mouth. He couldn't believe it. He is straight and he is sure of that. But this is absolutely different
Brett took his old body by the neck, choking him. "Say you love being in my body"
Trent:"Brett I can't breathe"
Brett:"Fine, let's do this the hard way"
He turned him around. Trent now on all fours. He knew what was coming, but he wasn't ready
Brett spit in his hand and spread it all over the head od his dick. Ready to penetrate his old hairy hole
Trent:"Brett wait... I... Ahhhhhhhh". Trent screamed in pain
Brett:"Yeah. Sorry about that. I'm just so horny. I love your body, Trent. I love every inch od it. Admit you like mine"
Trent:"Brett, please slow down"
Brett:"Naaah, you'll get used to it in a sex"
Trent:"Please, get lube or something"
Brett spit again to where his dick was penetrating Trent's ass. Brett:"Should do it"
Trent was still in pain, but now a new feeling was making him feel better. The pain was now... pleasant? He wanted to feel more. With every thrust from Brett. He felt like shitting himself and cumming at the same time
Brett:"Admit it. Admit you love being in my body" he sped up. Thrusting painfully.
Trent:"Yeah.... yes..."
Brett:"Louder"
Trent:"I do... I love your body. I love being you"
Brett:"Ahhhh. I'm gonna cum. Turn around. I want to cum on your chest"
Trent turned around. He could feel cum leaking from his dick. And now he saw his old face like he never did before. Brett was so into it. His face was full of lust, rage and mischief.
Brett:"Ahhhh. I'm cumming!"
The cum shot all over Trent. Not only on his chest, but also on his mouth and face
Trent watched in awe what just happened.
Brett:"Whew. That was a ride wasn't it? First gay sex. Am I right?"
Trent:"Brett... I?"
Brett:"Oh sorry. I have to catch my breath. You look so funny with my cum all over you. Haha. By the way. I'm glad you love your new body. You get to keep it"
Trent:"Brett, you said we would swap"
Brett:"Yeah I did. That's true. But after this little 'cum over your face' and 'dick in your ass' we made it permanent"
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Trent watched in shock as his old body was still standing on top of him. Breathing rapidly and laughing.
Several months later
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Hi my name is Brett. Welcome to my only fans channel. If you got any hairy request, hit me up
Brett in Trent's body:"Well this is just pathetic. Man, I knew you'd crumble. But this just seems you lost your mind"
Trent's massive colleague came next to him:"Hey, bro. What are you looking at?"
Brett:"Just looking how one of my friends threw away their life, kinda sad. But whatever. Their life, not mine"
Friend:"Hey, wanna grab a beer later this evening?"
Brett scanned his friend from top to bottom and smiled:"Sure thing. Be there at eight"
Brett thought about switching it up a little. That body would be amazing. But then he turned around and looked at himself in the mirror. And flexed
Brett:"Nah. I'm Trent. And I'm keeping this body"
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A request from messages (another one who waited for a LONG time, sorry guys) for @swappwas
Hope you like it :)
P.S. written late at night on a phone with a very irritating autocorrect, so please excuse the mistakes
760 notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 4 months ago
Text
THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - seven (finale)
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛" + "def some little smut during the enemies part and a long story"
word count: 6.3k
warnings: last chapter <3
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You’ve been to Kildare County Sheriff’s Department way more times than you care to admit
Being the oldest kid in your family—and somehow the only actual adult—you lost count of how many times you had to drag your dad out of jail between the ages of sixteen and twenty. It felt like a full-time job.
Then there were the countless times you’d been there for your friends. 
JJ, for instance, had been taken in more than once for public disturbances. It was almost a given that he'd end up in that shithole whenever there was a party or some kind of trouble brewing. You knew every officer by name, and they knew you too. Some gave you that look—you know, the one that said, “Oh, sweetie, you again?”—while others just shook their heads, probably wondering when you would finally stop playing caretaker and start looking out for yourself.
But you always showed up, no matter what, because that’s what you did. You took care of your own.
The first time you had to pick up your dad, you were sixteen. Brand new driver’s license, barely knew how to parallel park, and boom, you’re getting woken up at like 2 a.m. because your dad’s been arrested. You were shaking the whole time, gripping the steering wheel like your life depended on it, eyes blurry with tears. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him wasted or bruised up, but this time felt different. This time, it hit you that this was gonna be your life now.
You were stuck.
You remember pulling up to the station, parking all kinds of crooked because your hands wouldn’t stop trembling. You ran inside, still half-asleep, and the officer at the desk gave you this sad little smile. “He’s in the back,” he said, like you didn’t already know.
When you saw your dad slumped over, bruised, and barely awake, something inside you just... cracked. He looked up, and for a second, he recognized you. “Hey, kiddo,” he mumbled, still drunk, still out of it. Back then, there was still some part of him left, some shred of the man he used to be.
You signed the papers, helped him stumble to the car, and drove home in silence while he passed out in the passenger seat. It was the first of so many nights like that. And you knew it wasn’t gonna be the last. When you finally pulled into the driveway, you helped him inside and onto the couch. He mumbled a thank you before passing out, his snores filling the room.
Now, sitting in the small, stuffy waiting room of the sheriff’s department, you glance around, feeling a knot of tension tightening in your stomach, the fluorescent lights doing little to help, making everything appear sterile and unforgiving.
You wish you could be anywhere but here.
JJ’s next to you, his leg bouncing like he’s got caffeine running through his veins instead of blood. You’re already annoyed, and it doesn’t help that Rafe is sitting on your other side, looking just as pissed off.
“Will you stop bouncing your leg JJ?” You grit out, already irritated from waiting longer than an hour.
“Why the fuck did he have to come?” JJ mutters, throwing daggers at Rafe with his eyes.
“JJ, not now.” You put your hand on his arm, trying to keep him from starting something. The last thing you need is another fight.
JJ glares, but his jaw clenches shut. “This is so messed up,” he grumbles.
“Messed up is leaving your sister alone with your drunk piece of shit father.”
“Like I knew he was there, you dumbass?” JJ shoots back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Maybe stop leaving her alone.”
“Oh, here we go,” you mutter, feeling the tension rise again. The last thing you need right now is for these two to start another fight.
Ever since JJ came back to the mainland only to pick you up from Taneyhill, things had been…tense. It was one thing to talk about you and Rafe, it was a completely different thing to see you together.
You know your brother hates every second of it. 
“Oh, but you wanna talk about drunk pieces of shit? How many times did your daddy bail you out?” 
Rafe’s eyes narrow, his fists clenching, “How many times did you make your sister bail you out, huh?”
"You wanna talk about sisters too?"
You shut your eyes, attempting to ignore the way they’re clawing each other’s throats out with tainted insults. It was a miracle they're standing in the same room without killing each other, but you can only take so much. It’s like they’re about to throw punches, right there in the middle of the sheriff’s office.
"Shut the fuck up Maybank."
“Fuck you, Cameron!” JJ snaps, standing up so fast his chair skids backward, “You think you’re better than us?”
Rafe stands up too, stepping closer to JJ, “Better than you? Yes.”
“Don’t act like you’re doing this for her,” JJ scoffs. “You’ve never helped anyone but yourself, you manipulative asshole.”
“That’s enough,” you snap, standing up and stepping between them, pushing them apart. Your voice is shaking with frustration. “You two are going to shut the fuck up or take this shit outside. It’s nine in the morning. I didn’t get a wink of sleep, and I’m not gonna sit here and hear you two bitch it you.”  
JJ glares at Rafe over your shoulder. “We don’t need this asshole’s help. We can handle it ourselves.”
Rafe sneers. “Handle it? Like you’ve handled everything else?”
Your brother lunges forward, but you push him back, your voice shaking. “Sit your ass down or leave, I’m not going to repeat myself.”
They both just stare at you, their harsh words still hanging in the air of this stuffy room. The tension is almost suffocating, but there's no way you’re letting them keep tearing each other apart. You’re exhausted, emotionally and physically drained. The last thing you need right now is to play mediator between them… again.
Rafe finally sits down, arms crossed, biting his tongue—for your sake, you know. JJ’s sitting too now, still fidgeting like he always does, tapping his fingers against the armrest.
"Look," you say, your voice still firm, "We're here for a reason. Let's just get through this and get out, okay?"
Your brother just grunts, glaring at the wall like it’s personally offended him. Rafe lets out a sigh and gives you the tiniest nod, like a reluctant “fine.” You sit back down, feeling a bit of the weight in your chest ease up. Rafe leans in and gently takes your hand, mouthing, "I’m sorry." You give it a little squeeze—apology accepted, for now.
JJ notices but looks away too quickly for you to read him. You know he’s pissed, but at least for the moment, he’s staying quiet.
The minutes crawl by, each one feeling like forever, and finally, a cop shows up at the door, calling your name. The three of you stand up at the same time, and Rafe and JJ follow behind you, silent but close, as you walk down the hallway.
The clanging of barred doors shutting behind you makes your stomach twist, and you eventually end up in a small interrogation room. The officer gestures to a chair, "Take a seat." He heads off to get paperwork, and you glance at Rafe, who’s watching you like he’s afraid you might disappear. You know he won’t relax until your dad is completely out of the picture.
Your brother, on the other hand, leans against the wall with crossed arms, a brooding expression on his face. He's always been protective, even if his way of showing it often led to clashes with others. You wish things could be different.
Officer Malcom comes back with a stack of papers, but before you can even look at them, Rafe’s lawyer, Mr. Johnson, walks in. Rafe's had him on speed dial since the whole mess started, and honestly, he's been a lifesaver. He sits beside you, reviewing the papers calmly, and just having him there makes everything feel a little less scary.
“Alright, folks, let's go through this step by step. The first form here is the petition for a temporary restraining order. It outlines the incidents and reasons for seeking protection.”
“Are these incidents documented with the sherrif’s office?” Mr. Johnson's expertise is evident in the way he examines the document meticulously.
“Yes, sir. We have reports dating back to—" Officer Malcom stops for a second, checking the data, “About eight years ago, give or take.”
Rafe’s head snaps in your direction, brows furrowed, clearly pissed off that this has been going on for that long without anyone doing anything. You try to ignore it, focusing on the papers in front of you instead.
“What happens after I file this?
“Once filed, a judge will review the petition. If approved, a temporary restraining order will be issued, usually effective immediately. Then, there'll be a hearing within a few weeks to determine if a permanent order is necessary.”
“What if he doesn't abide by the temporary order?” 
The officer only nods sympathetically. “Violating a restraining order is a criminal offense. He could face fines, jail time, or both.”
Rafe’s still looking at you, “Does she have to serve him personally with these papers?”
“It’s crucial that he’s officially notified. We handle that part, though.”
Rafe’s lawyer is taking notes when he speaks up again, “If he contests the order, he’ll have the opportunity to present his side at the hearing. Both parties can bring witnesses or evidence. But based on your father’s behavior, that’s unlikely.”
You hope to God he doesn’t. The thought of seeing him again makes you feel like you might throw up. You take a deep breath, hands itching to twirl a piece of your hair.
“How long does the process usually take?”
You feel a hand touch your shoulder, gently tightening the grip around the skin, you don’t have to look back to know it’s Rafe. By now you know the lines and the ridges of his hands as if they are your own.
"The timeline can vary, but typically, from filing to the hearing, it might take a few weeks. It depends on the court's schedule and any potential delays."
You nod, absorbing the information while trying to steady your breathing. None of this feels real. Not the legal stuff, not the fact that this could actually be over soon. As the conversation continues, Mr. Johnson outlines the next steps clearly, discussing what will happen during and after the hearing. 
The officer quickly gathers the papers in his hands, “I’ll get everything started then. Just a moment.”
As he leaves to process the paperwork, a brief silence settles over the room. You exchange glances with JJ and Rafe, both of them entirely too interested of the concrete floor. 
“This is the right thing to do, right?”
You know it is. You’ve known for years, but it’s still hard to understand how it came to this. Your life could’ve been so different. 
JJ nods, fiddling with his shark tooth necklace, the one you’d given him when he was seven. “Yeah. He shouldn’t be able to just...” He trails off shaking his head.
Rafe squeezes your shoulder once more, then lowers himself to your level and plants a quick peck on your temple, “You’ve got this. It’ll be okay.”
Mr. Johnson finally puts his pen away, turning to you, “I’ll stay on top of the filings and keep you updated on any developments.”
This moment is a culmination of years of struggle. It's daunting, but you’re not alone. 
 "Thank you.”
JJ shifts his weight, his agitation visible. "I hate this," he mutters. 
"I know," you reply, not knowing what else to say.
The door swings open again, and Officer Malcom re-enters, holding a stack of papers. "Alright," he says, handing you a pen. "Just sign here, and we'll get this process started."
You take the pen with shaky hands, knowing there’s no going back after this. As you sign your name, you can't help but sigh in relief.
This is a step towards freedom.
Rafe watches you intently, his eyes full of concern. He reaches out, placing a hand on your back, a little reminder that he's here for you. JJ stands close by, his protective instincts on high alert.
After you finish signing, Officer Malcom takes the papers and gives you a reassuring nod. "We'll take care of the rest. You should hear from us soon about the next steps."
You stand up, feeling a little lighter, but the emotional toll of the day still kicks your ass. As you make your way out of the room, Rafe keeps a steady hand on your back, guiding you.
Once outside, the morning sun feels almost blinding after the harsh fluorescent lights of the station. JJ immediately lights a cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling with a sigh. 
Rafe looks at you, his expression softening. "You're good?"
You nod, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I think so. Thank you for being here, both of you."
JJ smirks, though there's a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Where else would I be?”
You glance at the two men beside you, each representing a different part of your world. Your brother stubs out his cigarette, glancing over at Rafe with an exaggerated sigh. He smirks, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
“Gotta admit, I never thought I'd see the day when 'Rafe the Retch' would be helping us out.”
A laugh escapes your lips before you can stop it, but you quickly cover it up, turning it into a cough. You’d forgotten about that one.
Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up. “'Rafe the Retch'? Seriously, what the fuck?”
“Ask her,” JJ nods in your direction.
“You called me that shit?”
You bite your lip, “To be fair, I called you worse things.”
Rfe tilts his head, hands on his hips, “Like what?”
“You don’t want to know.”
The three of you start walking toward the parking lot, as you reach the cars, JJ pulls you into a quick, tight hug. “We’re gonna get through this,” he murmurs, his voice filled with determination. 
You hug him back, “I know, Jay.”
Rafe stands a few feet away, watching the exchange with a thoughtful expression. When your brother finally lets you go, he steps closer, “Ready to go?”
JJ looks at you, the concern in his eyes clear. "I gotta head to work. Do you want a ride home? It's on the way.”
You glance at Rafe, then back at JJ, sensing his reluctance. “No but thank you.”
JJ’s shoulders tense, but he nods, trying to hide his disappointment. "Alright. Just... call me if you need anything, okay?"
You smile, appreciating his concern. "I will. Drive safe."
He nods again, glancing one more time at Rafe before getting into his truck and driving off. You watch him go, knowing that things are still far from being okay between the two of you.
You know he’s never going to change his opinion about Rafe, maybe not until he witnesses the changes in him, but you hope that one day they’ll find some common ground. It’s a lot to ask from your brother, you know that, and it’s why you never push him. 
“You sure you’re doing okay?”
You nod, leaning into Rafe now that he stands behind you, “Yeah, just a little tired.”
He wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you towards his car, “Did you get any sleep last night?”
"Barely," you admit. "Just couldn't stop thinking about today.”
He unlocks the car, opening the passenger door for you. "Well, now that it's done, you can rest. I’ll even put that bullshit show you like.”
You gasp ready to punch him in the shoulder, but by the time you turn he’s already on the other side of the car, “Love Island is not a stupid show!”
He chuckles as he starts the engine. "If you say so.”
“You watch it too.”
“Only because you force me to,” Rafe counters, a playful glint in his eyes.
It’s been a month since the nightmare with your dad, and you’ve pretty much been living at Rafe’s new place ever since. Sure, you’ve got your own house, but it just doesn’t feel like home anymore. Rafe’s apartment though? It’s like your little safe haven now. You don’t officially live there, but who are you kidding? Most of your stuff is in his drawers, he’s stocked the bathroom with all your skincare, hair stuff, even a toothbrush. He tried to go all-out, buying you everything, and you kept telling him to stop, but it’s like talking to a wall. You gave up eventually.
As he pulls out of the parking lot, his hand slides over to grab yours. It’s such a simple thing, but it makes the tight feeling in your chest ease a little. You’re both quiet for most of the drive, but it’s not awkward or anything. It’s actually kind of nice. You never imagined he’d be so...attached. Things between you are still...somewhat undefined, but it definitely feels like a relationship. That thought is pushed to the back of your mind for now. It's just not the right moment to talk about it—not with his father’s trial only weeks away and your own dad still recovering in the hospital.
When you pull up to his apartment, the building feels familiar in a way that makes your stomach flip. He hops out of the car and, as usual, rushes around to open your door for you. It’s such a small thing, but it always makes your heart race.
Once inside, the place feels so different from the craziness of the day. It’s cozy, warm, and just... safe. You kick off your shoes and flop onto the couch, sinking into the cushions.
“Wanna watch your show?” Rafe asks, giving you that half-smile you’ve come to love.
You chuckle, feeling lighter than you have all day. “And you say you don’t love it.”
He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, navigating to the show. As the familiar theme song starts playing, you snuggle closer to him, finding comfort in the routine. It's all trashy drama and ridiculous contestants, but it’s the distraction you desperately need. Rafe’s arm stays around you, like always. But as the episode progresses, your eyelids grow heavy. The events of the day, combined with the sleepless night, catch up to you. You feel yourself drifting off, your head resting against Rafe’s chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm lulling you to sleep.
“Rest, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing whisper. “I’ve got you.”
Next thing you know, you wake up to the smell of something cooking. Blinking your eyes open, you realize Rafe’s in the kitchen, and the living room is dimly lit. A blanket slips off your shoulders as you sit up, and when you look over, he’s already smiling at you.
You’ve seen him smile more times over the past month than all the years you had “known” him combined. It looks good on him, makes him look younger. 
Stretching, you ask, “What’s all this?”
“Dinner. Figured you could use a good meal,” he says casually, like it’s no big deal that he’s cooked for you.
You sneak up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. “Look at you, Chef Rafe.”
Ever since he moved in on his own, he’s been slowly learning how to take care of himself. You’ve caught him watching cooking and deep cleaning videos more times you can count. You find it endearing. It makes your chest ache, in a good way, to watch him slowly turn into his own person, not the Rafe his father shaped him to be.
He chuckles, giving you a quick forehead kiss. “Eat before it gets cold.”
You sit down, and the first bite has you practically moaning. He snorts at your reaction, but you can tell he’s proud of himself. As you eat, though, you notice he seems a little off. His shoulders are tight, and there’s something in his eyes that makes you pause. You reach across the table, placing your hand over his.
"What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Rafe. What’s wrong?”
He hesitates, then sighs. “Got a call from my lawyer. About Ward.”
The mention of his dad sends a chill down your spine. “What about him?”
Rafe’s thumb brushes your knuckles as he looks down. “He wants to talk.”
“Do you want to talk to him?”
Rafe's jaw tightens, and he lets out a slow breath. “Yeah. But every time I’ve tried to stand up to him, it’s backfired."
You squeeze his hand, “He can’t hurt you anymore, you know that, right? You're not the same person you were before," you remind him gently. "You've grown so much, Rafe. You’ve made your own life."
He looks up at you, his gaze softening. The intensity in his eyes is clear—vulnerability, determination, and a deep-seated fear. It's as if he’s silently pleading for your reassurance, for the strength to face his demons.
“You think so?”
It's in the way his eyes become softer when they meet yours, the slight quiver in his lips, the way he holds your hand just a little tighter.
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Okay. I…I’ll think about it.”
The two of you finish dinner, the conversation shifting to lighter topic. After cleaning up, you find yourselves back on the couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. 
Everything feels so domestic it pulls at your heartstrings. And it hits you how much you love this, just being here with him.
But you can still feel the tension rolling off him. You turn to him, tracing little patterns on his chest. “You’re still worried, huh?”
He sighs, throwing his head against the cushions, his hand coming up to rest on yours. "Yeah. I’m scared talking to him will pull me back into that dark place.”
You press a kiss to his clothed chest. “You won’t go back there. Not while I’m here.”
He tightens his hold on you, “You know you’re too good for this world. It’s ridiculous.”
You narrow your eyes, “Am not.”
“Yeah, you are, Pretty Maybank.”
There it is. That nickname. “You know that’s so stupid, right?”
He grins, completely unbothered. “You love it.”
You nudge him with your elbow. “I tolerate it.”
He catches your hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Fits you perfectly.”
You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the grin tugging at your lips.
“If you say so.”
His eyes soften as he looks at you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand. “I do.”
“Shup up,” You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Don’t even know how you came up with that shit.”
Rafe laughs, the sound low and rumbling, his hand moving to rub your leg.  “It’s really stupid.”
You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “’Course it is.”
“Remember when we were fourteen, and we were both at the beach for that huge surf competition? You were this cocky, skilled little girl with an ego bigger than the waves.”
“And you were a suck-up mother—"
“Anyways,” He rolls his eyes, ignoring the way you tried to cut him off, his hand now lightly squeezing your knee, “You were out there showing off, catching wave after wave. I was so fucking annoyed."
You raise an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. “Oh, so you were secretly in awe of me?”
“Maybe,” he admits with a sheepish grin. “Or maybe I was just bitter because you made me look bad.”
“I made everyone look bad.”
“Okay, Gabriel Medina. You were out there showing off, making everyone watch you like you owned the ocean. All the boys were ogling you, calling you pretty, and you were loving every second of it.”
You smirk, remembering the day. "I was pretty good, wasn’t I?”
“Good?” He snorts, shaking his head as his fingers trail up and down your thigh. “You were more than good, you were unreal.”
"Yeah, yeah, so how does that tie into the nickname?”
“You came out of the water, hair all messy, sand on your skin, but you had this huge smile. One of the boys called you 'Pretty Maybank,' and you just laughed, brushing it off. But I— I guess I remembered it. It fit you.”
You blink, momentarily thrown off, "I...I didn’t know you remembered that."
“You’re kinda hard to forget Maybank.”
Your heart flutters at his words, the sincerity in his voice making it hard to breathe, “Shut up.”
He leans in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss, his hand cradling the back of your head. It only lasts a few seconds, before you’re pulling away, mumbling against his lips.
 “You know, it’s funny. Back then, I thought you were just this arrogant piece of shit who was always trying too hard to fit in.”
“That’s so sweet.”
You cup his face, brushing your thumbs across his cheeks, “Hmm. You were always showing off, too.”
“Well,” he drawls, pulling you a little closer, his arms wrapping around your waist, “We both grew out of that phase. Mostly.”
“Mostly,” you agree with a grin. “But I guess some things never change.”
“Yeah,” He doesn't take his eyes off your face, “Some things don’t change. 
There’s a brief silence, filled with the quiet sound of the TV and the comfortable presence of each other. His fingers continue to trace patterns on your hand, and you can feel his earlier stress easing if only a little.
“I don’t want to mess this up,” He admits quietly, “With you.”
“We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”
Rafe’s fingers gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “Yeah, we have.”
“I’ll keep you in check, Cameron.”
He holds you tighter, his breath mingling with yours. “You're too good for me, y’know that?”
You laugh, “I know.”
Before you can react, his fingers are dancing across your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You squeal, wriggling and trying to escape his grasp, but he’s relentless.
"Rafe!” You gasp between fits of laughter.
"Say sorry,” he demands, his fingers still working their magic.
"Never!" you manage to choke out, tears of laughter streaming down your face.
He grins wickedly, the movement driving your tummy insane.
"Wrong answer."
You squirm in his grip, the tickling intensifying. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" you finally relent, breathless and giggling.
Rafe stops, his hands coming to rest on your waist. His grin is triumphant, but there's a softness in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat. "That's what I thought," he muses, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
You catch your breath, still smiling. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be a tough guy, you’re surprisingly good at this domestic stuff."
He chuckles, pulling you closer until you're nestled against him.
"What can I say? You bring out the best in me, Pretty Maybank."
"I like this," you admit softly. "Being here with you, just... us."
"Me too," Rafe murmurs, his hand gently stroking your hair. "Feels right, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, it does.”
⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ
Three weeks later, Rafe finally agrees to visit Ward in prison.
His lawyer arranged the meeting, emphasizing the importance of having this conversation to find closure. Despite your protests, Rafe insisted on doing this alone. Plus, prison's security measures are stringent, and there’s no way you could accompany him inside.
Instead, you’re stuck waiting outside, the anxiety killing you slowly. You're sitting on a bench outside the high-security prison, your foot tapping nervously against the ground.
The sun is blazing, making the wait even more unbearable. You wish you could be in there with him, supporting him. You glance at the ugly building, feeling desperate to get the hell away. Your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your thoughts. It’s a text from JJ.
"how's it going?"
You quickly type back.
"he just went in. kinda losing my mind out here."
"he’ll be okay. devil spawn and all yk".
"not helping???"
"my bad sis, just trying to lighten the mood. seriously though, he's got this."
You sigh, putting your phone down and glancing around the barren surroundings. The high walls and barbed wire of the prison seem to loom even larger now. Time drags on, every minute feels like an hour. You find yourself looking at the entrance every few seconds, hoping to see Rafe walk out.
Inside, Rafe is led through a maze of corridors, the echo of his footsteps bouncing off the cold concrete walls. The guards are stoic, their faces expressionless as they guide him to the visitation room. His heart pounds in his chest, but he forces himself to stay calm, to stay focused. He's going to be just fine.
When he finally walks in the room, he sees Ward already seated, the older man looking surprisingly composed. Of course he'd care about his appearance even when he's locked up. There's a glass partition between them, with phones on either side for communication. Rafe sits down, picking up the phone with a shaky hand. He wishes you were here. 
Ward's eyes are piercing as they lock onto Rafe's. "Look who finally decided to visit," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Took you time, boy."
Rafe takes a deep breath. This is it.
"Only came to tell you something."
Ward raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "Oh? And what's that? That you’re an ungrateful piece of shit?”
Ignore him, your voice echoes in his head. He knew Ward was going to try to get a rise out of him and he hates that it might work.
"I'm done," Rafe says, his voice steady. "You don't control me anymore."
“After everything I've done for you?"
Rafe's grip on the phone tightens. "You didn't do shit for me. You did it for yourself."
Ward leans forward, his eyes narrowing. "You have no idea what you're talking about, boy. You need me."
"No, I don't," Rafe retorts, “No one needs you.”
Ward's eyes flash with anger, but he quickly masks it with a calculating smile. "Is that what you really think, son? That you can just walk away from everything? From me?"
Rafe feels a rush of anger fighting it's way up his throat, but he holds it back, remembering your words. He takes another breath, steadying himself, “I don’t care.”
Ward's smile fades, replaced by a sneer. "You think you're so strong now, don't you? Do you think you can survive out there without my influence? The world is a cruel place, Rafe. You won't last a day. You think that Maybank trash is gonna solve all your problems, huh?”
“You’re not getting under my skin.”
Ward's eyes narrow further, and he leans in closer to the glass, his voice dropping to a whisper. "So, it’s about her now, is it? What makes you think she’ll be any better for you than I was? She doesn’t know you like I do."
Rafe’s temper flares, but he forces himself to stay calm. He can’t take the bait.
"Keep her out of this.”
“You think you’re so righteous, so superior. You’ll need more than just some girl to get you through.”
“I don’t need you,” Rafe insists, his voice firm. “I never did.” 
Ward’s expression turns cold once more, but there’s a flicker of something—maybe regret, maybe just a reflection of his anger. “You can pretend you’re free, but you know I’m not so easily forgotten.”
Rafe takes a deep breath, forcing himself to stay composed. “I don’t need to hear anything else from you. I’m done.”
“You won’t be able to keep her safe.”
He knew the conversation wouldn’t be longer than five minutes.
He stands up abruptly, the phone clattering against the partition as he drops it. He doesn't need to hear Ward any more. He turns his back on his father and walks out of the room, the door clanging shut behind him. As he walks back through the maze of corridors, his thoughts turn to you, knowing you’re outside overthinking and ready to hug the live out of him. 
He’s striding to you the moment he sees you. You're still on the bench, trying to distract yourself with your phone, but it’s no use. You jump up, rushing over to him. You’re always so endearing to him it pains him to know he hurt you so badly over the years.
“You okay?”
Rafe’s arms wrap around you, finally breathing normally. His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers, “Yeah. I’m okay.”
You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as if you can protect him from the Ward’s harshness. “I was going crazy waiting out here.”
“Sorry for making you wait,” Rafe murmurs, his voice muffled against your shoulder. 
“I don’t care,” You pull back slightly, your hands moving to cup his face. Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble beneath your touch, “You did what you needed to do. And I’m proud of you.”
He smiles a small, tired smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, “Needed to hear that. Thank you.”
You nod, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “For what?” you ask, leaning into him again. “You did great, baby. You stood up to him. That takes so much strength.”
You take his hand, your fingers intertwining with his as you lead him away from the prison. His grip is strong, his palm warm against yours. The two of you walk in silence for a moment, the only sound the gravel crunching beneath your feet. You glance at him, noting the way his shoulders have relaxed a litte.
“I felt it. Like a weight lifting off me. It’s not completely gone, but it’s lighter.”
You stop walking, turning to face him fully. Your free hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. It had grown so much over the past few weeks. “And it’ll keep getting lighter,” you assure him. 
“You think?”
“I know. You’ll keep needing to stand up to him,” you acknowledge, “But it will get easier each time.”
His hand brushes a stray hair from your face, copying your earlier movement. “And you’ll be here with me?”
“Always.”
Rafe’s expression softens, the hard edges smoothed away by the promise in your words. He leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
His lips linger there.
“You really are too good for me,” he murmurs against your skin, the sound blending with the hum of the car engines in the distance.
“I know.”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. The intensity in his gaze takes your breath away, but it’s a different kind of intensity than you’re used to seeing in him. It’s softer, more open, and entirely focused on you.
“Let’s go home."
You nod, a smile spreading across your face. “Yeah, let’s go home.”
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kitcat22 · 4 months ago
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Okay, okay so I’m thinking of an au mashup in which Obi Wan gets de-aged in the middle of the clone wars, except Obi Wan is now at the age when his prophetic visions and slightly offputting nature were at they’re height.
I tend to follow the belief, in Seer!Obi wan fics, that Yoda took one look at the 8 year old Obi Wan who keeps telling him increasingly creepy little snippets of his future and the looked at Sifo-Dyas rocking back and forth in the corner doodling the same face over and over, with slight variations, muttering insanities as Dooku tries to lure him out with a trail of biscuits and tea, and just went. No. Absolutely not. Not doing this again. And the council at the time just sort of agreed to put a mental block in place to stop Obi Wan from growing up into Sifo-Dyas Junior.
This is was all fine and dandy, until Obi Wan is suddenly 7 again without this block in place and planets away from anyone capable of rebuilding it again. Force forbid they allow Skywalker a go at it.
Now there’s an unsettling redheaded child making very worrying, very creepy comments.
Anakin: awww, aren’t you a cute!!!
Baby!Obi-Wan: Your hands drip with the blood of trillions, Your arrogance veils the sins you wish not to confront, Your decrepit body shall live on long past your own death, in a cage of its own making.
Anakin: : - 0
Baby!Obi-Wan: but thank you : - )
Ahsoka and Rex are very reluctant to be near the baby after he tells them how everyone they love will die and they shall continue on, surrounded but alone all the same.
Cody and the 212th choose to endure the comments on how they will die enslaved, put down by the masters that created them, deprived of personhood and kindness because creepy baby or not, that’s they’re general right there, they can figure all the freakiness out after the they’ve comforted the child. (They are immensely worried over this, though)
It’s not like Obi wan is enjoying this either. He doesn’t want to predict all this, it won’t stop!
Dooku, on the other hand is thrilled. He kind of regrets not keeping his lover Sifo-Dyas around as his own personal fortune cookie machine / Magic 8 ball. Not cause he misses him or anything. Not at all. He just thinks the tactical advantage would be wonderful! (This is slightly ignorant of how unstable and harmful Sifo’s visions were) To have his Grandpadawan back in this impressionable, powerful state would also be wonderful!
He changes his mind after about 10 minutes with said grandpadawan.
He wants the adult one back please. The 7 year old is dissecting his soul and telling him how pointless his life decisions have been :-(
Shit really hits the fan when baby!Obi-Wan accidentally bumps into Sheev.
Obi wan returns to adult form in a galaxy that sort of resembles this
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He can’t do much complaining though considering it was him that caused this.
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irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago
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blood moonlit, must be counterfeit
summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes. (pro!bakugo x you)
wc: 1.68k
cw/tags: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol
note: NEW HALLOWEEN HEADER BABY also this idea had me by the throat so i needed to write it down before it consumed my entire psyche. i'm back to writing for bakugo again because iykyk and halloween fics are giving me a lot of motivation right now. hope you enjoy!
likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3
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“I have to admit–your costume is pretty damn good.”
“Yeah? Just ‘pretty good?’”
“Mhmm. Almost looks like the real thing,” you remark, taking another sip of the dangerously sweet jungle juice in your cup. It's an unreadable mix of bad ideas and bold flirtation, perfect for a Halloween party of barely 21 adults. The blonde guy beside you on the worn leather couch tilts his head slightly like he's re-affirming what you just said in his mind. “I think the real Dynamight would be impressed.”
“Would he, now,” he huffs under his breath, mouth curling into an unreadable smirk. He exhales a quick breath of what you think is amusement through his nose, eyes flicking over your body for the umpteenth time since he sat down with you. It makes your face heat up and you casually avert your gaze downward, catching more details of his costume that you didn’t notice before. 
The gauntlets were obviously the star of the arrangement, covered in numerous scratches, burns, and dents that attested to their “battle” usage. The boots were impressive, too, and you wondered how long it took to place every individual orange eyelet over the front of each calf. The cinder block rectangles sitting on his broad shoulders truly looked like real stone, solid like the toned muscle holding them up. It was the domino mask that threw you off the most, though. The guy must have been wearing bright red contacts, or something, because to look so similar to the actual Pro should have been considered a crime. 
“Who’d you come to the party with?”
“Just some friends,” he replies, shrugging an infuriatingly sexy shoulder. His entire look was putting the real Dynamight to shame, in your opinion. He nods upward in the direction of a guy in an equally accurate Deku costume standing with a very convincing Shoto lookalike. “They dared me to wear this and I lost the bet.”
“Must have been some bet, if you’re moping over here like a toddler.” The shrewdness of your words escapes you until they’re already past your lips; thankfully, he just smirks again and leans his head back, resting an arm on the back of the sofa.
“I’ll ignore that you said that, 'cause you're clearly intoxicated” he mutters, shooting you a brutal side-eye. Thanks to the alcohol, though, you’re far from deterred. 
“How gracious,” you chuckle and his smirk gets a little more arrogant. “What was the bet?”
“Some dumb drinking contest. That asswipe in the green can put down more shots than he looks.” He scowls and you fight down the urge to giggle at his bitter expression. He was the only guy you’ve ever seen that could make a grumpy face look hot. The only guy besides Bakugo himself, of course. “I wouldn’t have worn this shit to a party to save my life.”
“What, Dynamight isn’t your favorite Pro?”
“I’m more of an All Might guy,” he replies nonchalantly. He appreciates the classic heroes. Good sign. “If I had to choose a different one, I’d probably say Jeanist.”
“Jeanist is pretty cool. My best friend had a cardboard cutout of Eraserhead in her closet growing up.” He barks out a laugh and it startles you, but a mysterious feeling in your stomach wants to make him do it again. “What do you think of the current gen of heroes?” He hums thoughtfully, running his tongue over his top lip and you swallow back your drool.
“Red Riot’s a good guy. Deku pisses me the fuck off, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Same thing with Pinky and that Half-and-Half asshat. Chargebolt…” His expression turns into a frown so deep you’re worried that Chargebolt killed his family or something heinous like that. 
“What about him?”
“He’s just dumb. If given the choice between his life and a grain of sand, I’d take the sand,” he deadpans and you choke unexpectedly, wincing as your drink travels up the wrong tube and into your nose. His eyes widened in concern, reaching out to pat your back but deciding against it at the last moment. His glove-covered hands hover around you like you’re radioactive matter, carefully watching as you regain your composure. “You good, nerd?” Uses the same vocabulary as the real guy, too. Kind of weird, but I guess we all have our idols. 
“Yeah, I’m good. I just didn’t expect you to badmouth him like you two were friends from high school or something,” you joke lightheartedly and the guy blinks at you twice before computing what you said. 
“It’s whatever. They’re super fuckin’ easy to read, in any case,” he states with an air of finality and you down the rest of your drink, the dim lighting starting to blur everything around you into a single greenish-orange blob. “What about you? What are your thoughts on the new gen?”
“I can’t make such bold judgments as you, but I do think Dynamight is pretty cool,” you admit, suddenly feeling a little bashful when having the same question turned on you. The truth was, you followed the lives of the heroes a bit too closely than the average person should. It fascinated you so much that you were majoring in Quirk-specific journalism, studying the social and economic consequences of being a Pro. “I think his public persona is an interesting case when compared to other heroes.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’d like to imagine that he’s not always the loud, arrogant, obnoxious piece of shit that the press shows,” you start and narrow your eyes in confusion when he flinches at your description. You continue anyway but choose your words a little more carefully. Probably isn’t good to upset the guy who might have fashioned functioning gauntlets, if the costume truly is accurate. “There’s a side to him that I think the public doesn’t know about and doesn’t care to know about, since it’s easier to understand him as a loudmouth with no sense of manners. I just wonder who that guy is under all the yelling and testosterone.” His silence is deafening and you worry that you somehow offended him, but his tone is so gentle that your assumption becomes an impossibility.
“Seems like you’ve given this guy a great deal of thought,” he says lowly, voice barely audible over the sound of the blaring house music. 
“Well, he is my favorite,” you add quietly, not expecting him to catch what you said. He does, though, and that mischievous smirk returns to his face. Somehow, you two had inched closer together over the course of your conversation, and you were now close enough to smell his cologne. It was something deep and smoky, with a surprise note of sweetness, like caramel. “I’ve been following his hero career since I was in high school.”
“I didn’t take you for a superfan, but I do appreciate your support,” he chuckles and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You seriously haven’t figured it out?”
“Figured what out?”
“That I’m Dynamight, stupid. This is my actual costume and those are my actual friends. Hell, I'm paying for this whole shitty party,” he says incredulously, genuinely shocked that you didn’t come to that conclusion already. Your skepticism, however, rears its head and you burst out into rude laughter. 
Dynamight? Yeah, right. More like Dyna-maybe. 
“Excuse me?” He stares at you like you’d grown three heads and your heart drops into your stomach. You must have said your thoughts out loud. Fuck! “You’ve got some nerve, testing the patience of a Pro.” His words, under any other circumstances, would have cut down your pride like a knife. However, his eyes were conveying a different story, one of lust and want and holyshityouwantedhim. “Got anything to say, sweetheart? Or are you gonna just keep gaping like a fuckin’ goldfish?” You abruptly snap your jaw back into place, leaning your head into your hand and smiling in triumph when his gaze again uncontrollably rakes over your body.  
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“See what, gorgeous?”
“That a Pro kisses better than a normal person,” you murmur and his pupils blow to the size of pool balls. He wastes no time, gently but firmly grabbing your chin with two fingers and pulling your mouth onto his. His lips are ridiculously soft and you muster up the courage to bite him softly, heartbeat racing when he groans into your mouth. One arm drapes itself over the back of the couch, the other pulling you as close to him as humanly possible without practically sitting on him. Your hand combs through his hair and the other keeps him on you by the back of his neck.
Right when you run out of breath, he pulls away and swears colorfully at the phone buzzing in his pocket, answering it with one hand while his forearm is still pressed against your lower back. You absentmindedly trace his jawline with a finger while he curses out the person on the other line, eventually chucking the device over his shoulder like it was the last thing he was thinking about. “You need to go somewhere, sweetheart?” He lightly pinches your side at your mockery and you jump, flicking his forehead in defiance. 
“Nah, that was a job for Dynamight. Right now, I guess I’m still fuckin' Dyna-maybe,” he rasps and leans back in to kiss you again but you push his face away, giving him as sober of a look as possible. “What?”
“If you need to go kick ass, then go kick ass. I’m just some random makeout at a party,” you remind him, painfully aware of the sting if he was to leave you alone. His expression contorts into indignancy again but you still try to convince him to alleviate whatever situation he was called in for. “Your job is more important than a hookup.”
“I don’t do hookups, dumbass. I’m interested in you,” he states plainly and your face is set on fire. The Pro, who you just insulted to his face, was interested in you? “So, let’s get out of here, yeah? I can make you dinner that isn’t shitty pizza.” His mouth breaks into a devilish grin and you’re already grabbing onto his hand like your life depended on it. 
“If someone messes with us?”
“It’s a good thing I’m already in costume.” 
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if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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islandofsages · 10 months ago
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Hello, can i ask for Octavinelle dorm with Octavinelle! M! reader?
He's a really chill and silly guy but somehow crazy good with money and business. Like, if you give him 10 bucks and tell him to do whatever he wants with it and come back with 100 bucks, he'll somehow come back with 10000 bucks and become the CEO of some company. And, yeah, he's got these goofy ideas that somehow just work.
characters: the octavinelle boys x male octavinelle reader
tags: relationship not specified, crack (?), imagines format
warnings: a bit of swearing (just one word really)
author's notes: i love yall yall's readers are so goofy they're so fun to write
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Azul Ashengrotto
He appreciates how you’re one of the more level-headed guys around, though if only you could lay off the joking and teasing
But as long as you don’t cause him trouble he doesn’t mind you as much - and you end up proving to him that you are the very opposite
One day, he asks you to run him a errand (with fair compensation, of course; he is the soul of benevolence after all)
It’s quite simple - fetch him a sum of money Sam owes the Mostro Lounge (you don’t question how and why a fully-grown adult owes a seventeen year old money)
And so you go over to Sam’s. You won’t lie, you’re a little curious of what this debt entails. You’ll see if you can squeeze some details out of Sam
You meet up with Sam, all smiles as per usual. Though when you mention that you’re there because of the debt, he takes you into the shop’s backroom instead
He gives you an envelope, stuffed with the goods no doubt. He seems insistent on not letting on anything - but then you hit him with a classic move
“Now, now, we’re not in a rush, are we? I don’t even work for the Mostro Lounge. Least you can do is entertain a guy. I’ll keep my lips sealed.”
Sweet-talk and half-truths are a way to a salesman's heart after all. It’s true that you don’t work for Azul but that’s only because you have other businesses going on right now
Sam gives in with a sigh. It seems as if he’s been carrying such a secret for a while and needs an outlet. And you are definitely here for it
You come back to Octavinelle, skipping merrily (if not physically, at least you were on cloud nine mentally) and carrying more than just an envelope. Azul, on the other hand, is borderline seething for whatever reason. Little does he know
The moment you reach his office, you toss him the envelope and is about to leave - until he sees not one but the two enormous bags you carried in your hands that are definitely filled with money
Distraught, he questions you on how the hell you manage to score that much money. You shrug while walking towards the exit. It's just a matter of persuasion and creative thinking.
Business is so easy, you thought.
Jade Leech
Similar to Azul, it’s nice to have someone who has their shit together - plus, he finds it amusing when you mess with Azul. It reminds him of Floyd’s antics
Once in a while, you’re a pleasant guy to just sit down and have small talk with, though at times he wishes you would let on about yourself more
For his information, you only let slip when you want to; and he finds that out himself one fateful day
He jokes that if there’s anyone who could overpower Azul and steal his authority over the Mostro Lounge, it’d be you. You chuckle knowingly at this
Feeling a little playful, you propose to him a bet - if you manage to do so by next week, he owes you ten thaumarks. But if you don’t, you owe him ten thaumarks
He lets out a carefree laugh, amused. He reserves his assumptions and agrees to play along with you for the next few days
He doesn’t see you in a while. Not intentionally - he genuinely can’t find you anywhere, though he only attributes it to the fact that there’s only so much time he can use to look for you
After a whole week has passed, he seats himself where the bet initially took place and waits patiently for you to show up. True to your promise, you come waltzing up to him casually, your hands in your pockets and a friendly smile on your face
You slide next to him as he asks you how’ve you been and the two of you update each other on your wellbeing. Then he starts chuckling, a hand over his mouth in true Jade fashion. You smirk in response, knowing too well what that chuckle is for
And in true you fashion, you pull out ten thaumarks and extend them to him
…wait a minute. That’s ten thousand thaumarks.
You savor the sight of a Jade with his mouth agape. You snicker at his bewilderment as he tries to process what’s happening in front of him
“It’s true that I didn’t usurp Azul’s power or anything - but that’s only because I’m not interested in the Mostro Lounge. I’d rather have it as a rival than my property.”
After he gets over his initial shock, he offers you a sinister, toothy grin. You respond with a finger to your lips. He nods understandingly and takes the money from you with no protest.
Floyd Leech
You’re more low-key compared to him but he still appreciates having a fellow pain-in-Azul’s-ass
Of course, it depends on his mood still, but his tolerance of you is pretty consistent despite everything. You take it as a compliment
On one of his good-mood days, he’s chatting it up with you and laying out potential ways to mess with Azul more. You bring your own idea to the table
“How about this? I get a common word used by literally everyone trademarked and anyone who dares utter it has to pay me. And that includes Azul himself.”
He guffaws at your ridiculous idea and voices his opinion. You laugh yourself and don’t deny it. It is pretty far-fetched… but you have your ways
Plus, he has to admit that would piss off Azul super bad it’d be worth the trouble
The two of you hang out from time to time as usual when behind it all, you’re setting up Azul’s eventual downfall
Or not. You don’t actually care about taking Azul down but it would be pretty funny. Also you’ll get to impress Floyd in some shape or form which you care more about frankly
Once the deed is done, it’s announced everywhere you could think of - you did it under a fake name of course. But the money you’ll be getting can’t be any more real
What did you trademark? The word “so”.
When you relay this story to Floyd, he lets out a howl of a laugh you could’ve mistaken him for a wolf - he has no idea what strings you had to pull to actually manage that but color him entertained
…until he realizes that he’d also have to pay you every time he uses that word. Then his mood goes down instantly
You shrug that realization off by giving him a pass since he let you entertain the idea in the first place.
Floyd happy again :)
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cloudstrky · 5 months ago
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After Sun - rafe cameron smau
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ch 5: best friend's sister
tags: best friend's brother!rafe, f2l, older!rafe,
warnings: mentions of violence, alcohol
an: this part is written sorry if u don't like that :( really wanted this scene written out but im literally shit at writing so i hope it doesn't give u the ick
mlst
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Rafe Cameron was having fun. Scratch that, Rafe Cameron was having a blast. You, on the other hand, not so much. It didn't take long to convince Sarah to go to the country club with you after seeing that picture of Rafe. Selfishly, you wanted to grab his attention and prevent him from having another random fling. Sarah was just down for the drama.
You didn't expect to spot him so quickly. You half expected him to already be locked away in some room. You also half wished he was in a room after seeing the way he was pressing the girl from the picture against the wall.
His big hands on her thighs, her toned arms around his neck. God, this felt like torture.
"Do you want to leave?" Sarah asked as soon as she spotted him.
Yes.
"No," you sighed, turning to her. "This is what we came for right?"
Sarah smiled before grabbing your hand and pulling you further into the club, towards an empty table. "So what's the plan?"
You had an even better view of Rafe from your table. You could see every muscle in his arms flexing as his hands ran up and down the girls body. You couldn't be more jealous of a person.
"So," you said, tearing your eyes away from them. "I need to find someone to entertain."
"Easy," Sarah said, pointing at numerous guys before you even had a chance to look around the room.
"You're more eager than I am." You laughed, glancing over your choices. The truth was, no one was coming close to beating Rafe. No one could even count as competition.
"No fucking way," Sarah gasped, "Tyler."
Your eyes widened, looking over to where Sarah was pointing. "No fucking way Sar!"
"PLEASE!" She yelled, grabbing you by the shoulders. "You know how much this is going to annoy Rafe!"
"Sar he hates him!" You yelled back before turning to look at Tyler. "Although he has gotten seriously hot."
Rafe was known for being a hot-headed teenager and an even more hot-headed adult. He was mostly liked, or at the very least respected throughout high school, but he had certain people he just couldn't stand (and they couldn't stand him).
He and Tyler were rivals in high school since they were both captains of the two rival basketball teams. You remember Rafe being on the verge of expulsion after a game because Tyler had elbowed him so hard on the nose that he had to sit the rest of the game out and so when the game was over, he performed a tit-for-tat show, punching Tyler in the face.
They were both older now and more mature, but the hatred didn't seem to slip away with the years. Just last year, they had gotten into a fight at the beach, and you had stepped in because Topper was too busy oiling up a girl blissfully. You remember Tyler had been very respectful of your presence and had walked away immediately, although Rafe had been the one to step away first.
So yes, Tyler would be the perfect candidate for your evil plan to work, but he also would be the lowest blow.
"Yn, you know this is the best timing ever." Sarah was almost shaking with excitement. You were almost shaking with anxiety. What if your plan didn't work and instead all you could manage to do was make Rafe hate you?
"Isn't this low Sar?"
"You know what's low? Topper making out with Allison. There's no way my brother doesn't know. Tit for tat. Now, wave him over before I do."
You sighed, looking back at Tyler. He was already looking in your direction, so you quickly took your chance to wave him over. He was skeptical for a second before letting his friend know he'd be right back.
You watched him make your way over to you and watched as Sarah slipped away slowly, giving you the thumbs up.
"Yn," he yelled over the loud music as he reached your table. "Hey!"
"Hi, Tyler!" You smiled before he pulled you in for a half hug. "Sorry I waved you over, I was just shocked to see you." You made up a quick lie as you both pulled away from the hug.
He smiled for a moment, taking you in before looking around the club, "You here alone?" he asked suspiciously.
"No, actually, I'm here with Sarah. Remember her?"
"Cameron's sister, yeah." His eyes moved back to you as his smile returned to his face. "Well, you've certainly grown."
"College treating me well, you see." You blushed, almost forgetting about your plan and why you were talking to him in the first place.
"You're in college now, huh?" he sighed in disbelief, "Are you drinking anything?"
Now he was getting to the point. You looked around and you felt your heart race as you caught Rafe staring at you from across the room. The girl was gone from his arms and a beer had taken her place in his right hand as he was leaning against a wall, talking to someone. He looked so pretty in his striped shirt, the first few buttons now undone, giving you a full view of his toned torso and his shiny chain. His hair, slightly wet over his forehead from the warmth of the summer night. His eyes burnt holes into you before focusing on Tyler.
You snapped your head back towards Tyler, "A lemon vodka would be nice."
He grinned, nodding swiftly. "I'll be right back."
You watched him leave and head towards the bar for a moment before your eyes were searching for Rafe again.
You found him still staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face. You gave him a short smile and a weak wave. You knew he didn't want you here. You had asked if you could come, and he had said no, so you were already overstepping before even talking to Tyler. You saw him give you a confused look before taking a sip of his beer. You furrowed your brows at him, mimicking his expression, and he rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the person who was talking. He thought that was the last of your interaction with Tyler.
As soon as you turned your head away to look for Sarah, Rafe's eyes were back on you. Now that he knew you were here, he couldn't get you out of his mind, and so he wouldn't let you out of his sight.
"I'm just not interested in paying 2m's for a fucking boat y'know?"
No, Rafe didn't know. He had stopped listening seven minutes ago when he spotted you across the room. "Yeah, man, definitely," he answered mindlessly, something that didn't seem to phase the speaker because he kept rambling on, saying his piece.
Rafe watched as you looked around the room. He watched as your black open-back mini dress stopped dangerously high on your hips. He watched as the dip of the open back lingered dangerously low on your spine. Watched as your hair moved flawlessly around with the summer breeze, watched as your fingers anxiously snaked around your gold bracelets, and watched as Tyler came back with your drinks.
Rafe was sure he hadn't felt so angry in ages. Probably since he crashed his back four summers ago. Or maybe seven summers ago, when he was forced to sit out the most important basketball game of his life, causing him to lose the scholarship he so badly wanted because a certain rival had decided to do everything in his power to secure a scholarship.
So, in other words, Rafe was fuming. He watched as you took the drink from him with a big smile. The sound of his heart racing and his blood boiling overshadowing every other sound around him.
Clueless to what was going on around you, he watched you take a sip. He had to stop himself from racing over to you and snatching that drink from your hands.
"Excuse me," he said to the guy next to him, who was left confused as he watched Rafe walk away.
He pushed through the crowd, ignoring people calling his name.
"Party's over, let's go." Rafe's voice sent shivers down your spine. His tone has never been like that around you. His voice, soft and silky, was always a sound you cherished. And it couldn't be more different than his voice now, low and threatening.
"Rafe," you breathed as you turned to look at him. His eyes dark and heavy, show and tell that he had been partying.
"I think it just started, man." Tyler spoke, a massive grin plastered across his face.
Rafe didn't turn to look at him. "Yn." His voice was firm. With the beer in his hand long gone, he reached out his right hand to touch your lower back gently. His rough hands firm but soft on your exposed skin made you shiver unwillingly. Regret was quick to wash over you as you realized how low you had stepped because of your jealousy.
"I think she wants to stay, brother." Tyler rasped from next to you. His hand gently pushed your hair out of your face as he leaned in closer, "Don't you?"
If Rafe hadn't been pushed over the edge, he was now.
"Get your fucking hand off her." He growled, shoving Tyler's hand away.
Tyler taken aback, took a step forward.
"Walk away." Rafe rasped pulling you closer.
"Rafey, let's go." You turned towards him, leaving your drink on the table.
Rafe's eyes softened at the sound of your voice. He could feel his hand burning at the bottom of your spine. He guided you away from Tyler before he could get a word in. All you heard was a loud scoff and something about the drink.
The walk out of the club was tense. His hand on your lower back made you feel as if you were on fire. His breath hitting the back of your neck pointedly, smelling of beer and mint. You didn't even notice you were shaking until you stepped completely off the club's terrace and headed towards the parking.
Rafe's hand was gone in a heartbeat once you entered the parking area. He walked behind you in silence, the hand that was touching you flexing by his side, aching to get rid of the burning sensation.
"Rafe-"
"Get in the car, Yn." His voice was firm. You stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him, observing him as he stepped around the car and into the driver's seat.
You followed and got into the passenger's seat. He didn't start the car, and so the silence became so thick you felt like you were choking.
"Sarah is also here..." You said weakly, scared of his silence.
"Fucking great."
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and you watched as he texted Topper. He locked the screen and threw his phone on the dashboard. His head fell back on the headrest, a loud sigh escaping his lips.
"Rafe-" you tried again.
"Are you into him?" he finally asked, looking over at you. His features tired and dark and filled with confusion.
"What?" you muttered, unsure of what he actually meant.
"Or do you hate me?" his voice was raspy. The firmness was long gone, and exhaustion had taken its place.
"Rafe what are you-"
"Do what you fucking want doll. Have JJ. Have Tyler. Fucking have them both. But don't do it in front of me because I won't stand for it." He breathed heavily. "You know how hard it was for me to not break his slimy fucking hand?"
You were at a loss for words. Your hands still shaky, adrenaline rushing through your body so quickly, making it hard to breathe. He looked desperate. His eyes tore away from you as he started the engine.
You reached out, your small hand grabbing his. He pulled away as if you burned him and got out of the car. You stayed still, your eyes wide. You had never seen Rafe like that before. His back was turned to you but you could tell from the way it moved he was breathing heavily. You turned back and looked out of your window, deciding to give him space.
Seconds later, he was back in the car. The way home seemed longer than it was. His eyes didn't roam, and neither did yours. You kept looking out the window until he pulled into the driveway of the summer house. Neither of you moved and after a minute of silence, you undid your belt.
The tension was thick. You had never felt so claustrophobic before in your life. You knew what you did was wrong but you didn't think it'd bother him this much. Or perhaps you did.
"You're my best friend's sister. So please, doll, don't make it so fucking hard for me."
And then he was out of the car.
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