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teamred · 8 months ago

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after midnight

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x mutant!reader | smut | 1.8k

SUMMARY | logan hates that you never listen to him and you can't stand how he still treats you like a kid. but tonight's your chance to change each other's minds.

WARNINGS | smut, breastplay, oral s*x (male receiving), piv s*x, power dynamics

RATING | explicit

NOTES | this is more dialogue and tension than smut, but i hope y'all still enjoy!

The X-Mansion at night is eerily quiet, a peaceful respite compared to the bustling energy during the day with the swarm of students walking around. Despite the stillness, some nights, like tonight, make sleep hard to come by.

You carefully tread down the stairs, through the halls, and towards the communal kitchen to grab a drink.

With the flick of your hand, you open the fridge, its bright light illuminating you amidst the darkness, and glance at what’s available.

Times like these, you wish there was something stronger than soda available, but you settle on a bottle of ginger ale and levitate it towards your hand. You will the fridge to close behind you as you make your way to a high stool by the kitchen island.

“Shouldn't be walkin’ around in that outfit, bub.”

Startled, you whip your body around, clutching the bottle to your chest and holding your hand out, an instinctive fighting stance. You relax at the sight of him leaning against the doorframe.

“Jesus Christ, Logan…” you exhale, shaking your head.

He turns on the low lights above the kitchen counters. His hair is tousled from sleep, and his usual scowl is plastered on his face.

Your eyes sweep over his sleep wear—a simple fitted white tee and grey sweats. Then you glance down at yourself—black booty shorts and a loose crop top. Sure, what you wear to bed is a little risqué, but it’s comfortable.

“What are you—my dad?” you shoot back, sipping your drink and leaning against the counter.

Logan rolls his eyes, crossing the room to grab a Dr. Pepper from the fridge.

“You should put on a robe or somethin’,” he grumbles. “The kids could see you.”

He reaches to untwist the cap, but you beat him to it, using your powers to unscrew it with a swish of your fingers. The cap clatters onto the island, a bit louder than you intended.

“You know, kids aren’t exactly wandering around the mansion at 3AM,” you mutter.

He downs half the bottle in one go and you can’t help it, but you’re enticed by how his Adam’s apple bobs with each gulp. Your eyes sweep over him again, noticing how the shirt stretches perfectly over his body and the outline of his length underneath his sweats.

Logan may be an asshole, but at least he’s an attractive asshole.

When he finishes, he tilts the bottle towards you with a sneer.

“Yeah? Look who's talking.”

In a flash, you swipe his drink into your hand and shove him against the edge of the counter. He stumbles, almost falling to the floor, and snarls a curse.

Your nostrils flare as you close the distance between you, fists clenched. “When are you gonna take me seriously, Logan? I’m about to become a professor soon.”

He stands up straight, towering over you and matching your intensity.

He grits out, “When you finally start listenin’ to me.”

You scoff, the bitterness rising in your chest. “Oh, so that's what this is all about.”

You shake your head, finding it all too familiar. Coincidentally, this was why you couldn’t sleep tonight.

Logan jabs a finger towards you. “You never listen to a goddamn thing I say during training, always throwin’ yourself into the danger and I’m the one always pullin’ you out.”

“It's just the Danger Room!” you whisper-shout back, not wanting to wake others. “And you do the same shit all the time, Mr. Hypocrite.”

“Because I can handle the risk."

“And what? I can't?”

“Don't get cocky with me."

You step closer, merely inches away from his face, and raise a brow, meeting his glare with a defiant smirk.

“What are you gonna do, Logan? Bend me over your knee and teach me a lesson?”

The words are meant to taunt, to push his buttons, but they come out with an edge you didn’t expect.

Something daring.

Something that challenges Logan.

His gaze darkens, and the room fills with a charged silence. His breathing turns heavy, his eyes fixed on you like he’s ready to pounce.

“I just might.”

The tension snaps.

You’re unsure who moves first, but it doesn’t matter because you’re on each other, the kiss raw, messy, and all-consuming.

It’s a clash of hunger and fury. Lips crashing, teeth nearly clashing. His hands seize your bare thighs hard. Likewise, your nails dig into his muscled arms and shoulders. His groan turns into a guttural growl at the bite of your touch.

Effortlessly, he hoists you up, and you wrap your legs around him before he sets you down onto the cold tiled countertop. His hand snakes its way up your shirt, calloused fingers finding your nipples, rolling and pinching them ruthlessly.

One gasp escapes you, then another as he thrusts his thigh between your legs; the friction is delicious against your aching core.

“Tell me you'll listen to me,” he rasps the demand, his mouth now sucking and biting down your neck.

Initially, you shake your head, but he twists your nipple hard, dragging a sharp moan from your throat.

“Yes,” you moan.

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Logan,” you seethe, detesting how weak you are under his touch, but you can’t control yourself.

He chuckles irritatingly, brushing your neck upwards with the tip of his nose, until he presses his mouth against your ear. “You gonna do as I say?”

You nod. A desperate whine escapes your lips as he presses his thigh harder into you. Your body’s inflamed, craving more than just this from him.

“Then get on your knees,” he commands. “Show me what you got.”

As if under possession, you jump off the counter and fall to your knees as Logan switches spots with you. He drops his sweatpants towards his ankles and holds his cock in front of you, stroking it.

You almost salivate at the sight. Not that you’ve ever imagined fucking Logan, but it’s unsurprising how long and thick it is.

You start off with chaste kisses and darts of your tongue. A touch here and there to torment him. Minutes pass, and when he's had enough, he's about to say something until you suddenly take him in as much as you can.

You channel all your desire and frustration onto him in the form of crude pleasure to prove yourself.

Your tongue swirls. Licks up the precum leaking from his slit. Mouth sucks on his tip so hard, Logan's gripping your head roughly, groaning a plea for you to slow down. You disobey and relax your throat, allowing him to hit the back of your throat.

He practically has to rip you away to avoid an early end to all of this. His mouth is back on yours again with his drenched cock pressed up against your thigh.

Logan leads you to be on the counter once again. Impatiently, or perhaps it's laziness, his fingers deftly drag the fabric of your shorts and underwear towards one side to prepare for his entry.

And he doesn't even ease into it, knowing how wet you are from just a whiff of the air.

He's not gentle, and you don't want him to be. You yearn for each deep thrust, letting his fullness fill you to the brim.

“Is this what you wanted?" he growls. "Me fucking some sense into you?”

“If that’s what it takes to prove to you I’m not a fucking kid anymore, then—fuck—yes…”

He answers every moan you make with a deeper plunge. However, the moans rise to cries. Logan puts a hand over your mouth, drowning them out.

In turn, the suppression of it only accelerates your climax and somehow draws out your powers. Utensils shake, along with the cupboards.

“Sweetheart,” he warns with a low chuckle, still keeping a steady pace, “you’re gonna wake everybody up.”

“Don’t care,” you say, words muffled behind his hand. “Just keep fucking me. Don’t stop, don’t stop—”

Everything shakes in unison with your body’s trembling. You whimper Logan’s name, eyes fluttering, until you come undone around his length.

The kitchen slows its shaking as you come down from your high, and he pulls out, jolting his thick release onto your inner thigh with a sharp moan.

Both of you are still, listening for any sign of footsteps or voices of anyone that is coming to investigate the noises. But the mansion is still quiet as a mouse, save for your rigorous panting and the hum of the fridge.

Logan draws his pants back up and reaches for the paper towels. He holds them out in your direction, and, without ever touching it, you rip one off, wipe away the mess, and toss it into the garbage.

Jumping off the counter, you adjust your clothes, but not much is needed since nothing ever came off.

“So,” he says after catching his breath, reaching for his Dr. Pepper behind you. His body presses slightly against you, the warmth of his body radiating onto yours. “You gonna listen to me from now on?”

“That depends.” You drag your ginger ale towards you with a tilt of your head. In sync, you chug your drinks. “Are you gonna treat me like an adult from now on?”

“I’ll try, kid,” he says, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You shove him playfully at the label and he chuckles. “Sorry, it’s outta habit.”

“But seriously,” he continues, his expression hardening into his usual tough one. “You know that I only say those things to look out for you.”

That catches you off-guard. You search his eyes, revelling in the sincerity of his words.

“I know, Logan,” you smile and nod. Leaning in, you kiss him tenderly on his cheek and begin to walk away. “Try to get some sleep.”

When you’re about to leave, he calls out your name softly, causing you to turn around.

“If you ever have another sleepless night, come find me.” He closes the distance and pins you down with an intense stare and a smug arch of his eyebrow. “I still have to properly teach you a lesson over my knee, y’know.”

“Is that so?” you challenge. “Even after everything that happened tonight?”

“Tonight was just a preview,” he whispers. He lifts his hand to palm your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. “I need to keep you in check so you won’t forget.”

You're drawn to him, wanting to close the gap with a kiss.

But you decide against it, not wanting to let him win this round.

“I’ll think about it."

Turning on your heel, you saunter away. His eyes track every move, every sway of your hips in those tight shorts, drinking in the sight of you until you disappear from view.

Despite your tentativeness, Logan’s determined he’ll have another taste of you soon enough.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut

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caplanbuckybarnes · 1 month ago

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Caplans Playlist Challenge

Rules:

tag me in the authors notes with the hashtag #CaplansPlaylistChallenge

Please tag the proper warnings before the fic

Please include a summary for your fic.

Can be ANY CHARACTER/FANDOM YOU'D LIKE!!

More than one person can write for the same prompts

If you’d like to write for more than one song, please make them separate fics

Can be however long you’d like the fic to be. But PLEASE use the readmore feature if over 400 words.

No deadlines, but please keep me updated!

also, please reblog this challenge for others to see!

Addicted to you - simple plan

Alone together fall out boy

Animals maroon 5

Ashes of Eden Breaking Benjamin

Adore You Harry Styles

All of Me John Legend

Anti- Hero Taylor Swift

Attention Charlie Puth

Bad guy Billie Eilish

Bad things Jace Everett

Bartender T-Pain

Bedchem Sabrina Carpenter

Before he cheats Carrie Underwood

Before you go Lewis Capaldi

Better than me hinder

Cardigan Taylor Swift

Car radio twenty one pilots

Church fall out boy

Clumsy Fergie

Collide Howie Day

Come & get it Selena Gomez

Crazy Patsy Cline

Criminal Fiona Apple

Dancing on my Own Calum Scott

Dandelions Ruth B.

Deja vu Olivia Rodrigo

Diary Tino Coury

Dirty laundry Carrie underwood

Dirty thoughts Chloe Adams

Drivers license Olivia rodrigo

Easy on Adele

Eh, Eh, (Nothing Else I Can Say) Lady Gaga

Empty Walls Serj Takien

End of Beginnings Djo

Espresso Sabrina Carpenter

Every breath you take the police .

Faint Linkin Park

Fall for you secondhand serenade

Fallin Alicia keys

Falling Trevor Daniel

Fast car Tracy Chapman

Feather Sabrina Carpenter

Flowers Miley Cyrus

Ghost Justin Beiber

Give Me One Reason Tracy Chapman

Glimpse of us Joji

Good For You Olivia Rodrigo

Gone, Gone, Gone Phillip Phillips

Had Enough Breaking Benjamin

happier Olvia Rodrigo

Harder to Breathe Maroon 5

Heartbreak anniversary giveon

Heaven Kane brown

I fall apart post Malone

I miss you blink 182

I see red everybody loves an outlaw

I’m not the only one Sam smith

I’m yours alessia cara

Jealous nick jonas

Juno Sabrina Carpenter

Just one yesterday fall out boy

Just the way you are Bruno mars

Keep Holding On Avril Lavigne

The Kill 30 Seconds to Mars

Kiss From a Rose Seal

Kissing In Cars Pierce the Viel

Killer queen Queen

The last of the real ones

Leave the door open Bruno mars

Leavin’ Jesse McCartney

Like I can Sam smith

Lips of an angel hinder

Little do you know Alex & sierra

Mama's broken heart Miranda lambert

Man down Rihanna

Misery Maroon 5

My Boo usher & Alicia key

Needed Me Rihanna

Never gonna be alone Nickelback

New Rules Dua Lipa

Not Over You Gavin DeGraw

Obsessed Mariah Carey

One Call Away Charlie Puth

One More Night Maroon 5

Our Song Taylor Swift

Paparazzi Lady Gaga

Picture KidRock & Sherry Crow

PillowTalk Zayn Malik

Please Don’t Leave Me Pink

Red Taylor Swift

Remember the time Michael Jackson

Rolling in the deep Adele

Say My Name Destiny’s Child

Say So Doja Cat

She’s Got You Patsy Cline

Stay With Me Sam Smith

Smokin out the Window Bruno Mars

Someone You Loved Lewis Capaldi

Take a Bow Rihanna

Take Me to Church Hozier

There’s Nothing Holdin Me Back Shawn Mendes

Too Good at Goodbyes Sam Smith

Trip Ella Mae

Unfaithful RIhanna

Unholy Sam smith

Unsteady X Ambassadors

Uptown Girl Billy Joel

Wait For You Elliot Yamin

Walk Me Home P!NK

Walkin After Midnight Patsy Cline

Want U Back Cher Lloyd

What a Man Gotta Do Jonas Brothers

What Ifs Kane Brown

Wolves Selena Gomex

Would You Go With Me? Josh Turner

You and Me Lifehouse

You Found Me The Fray

You Had Me @ Hello A Day to Remember

You Sang to Me Marc Anthony

You're Still the One Shania Twain

#CaplansPlaylistChallenge #a challenge nobody asked for LOL

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thoushallnotfall · 11 months ago

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Walkin' After Midnight

Masterlist

Pairing: Marko x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Note: *finger guns* Ehhhhh...so it’s been a minute. How ya’ll been? So completely ignoring that’s it’s been...a long time, here’s another of my ‘imagine the boys in a decade prior to the 80s’ fics--and we’re moving right along to the 50s!

I started this...a very long time ago, and then I didn’t like it so I just left it in my WIPs with like 15 other ideas/half-written fics/updates. I still don’t love it, but upon further reflection I don’t totally hate it--and it was already started so I didn’t have to work as hard to finish it, so there’s that.

That being said, I'm kind of interested in writing a part 2, so we'll see...taking babysteps here.

(I’m really having to dig deep for these gifs)

Every kid from Santa Carla grew up knowing two things: Don’t go out after dark if you ever want to make it home, and stay away from the greasers who hung around the boardwalk.

It never really occurred to you that those two things could be related.

Unlike a lot of the teenagers in Santa Carla, who’d run there with nowhere else to go, you’d lived there all your life. You’d never left the city, and the older you got the more you doubted you ever would. Your dad had been killed in Vietnam, and your mom was around so little you half expected one day she’d just stop coming back home at all. You may not be one of the runaways, but you were still alone in Santa Carla.

Still, you were young; and while you knew you’d have to find a way to live on your own sooner or later, you decided to try and enjoy what little youth you had left. One day you’d have to grow up and start providing for yourself somehow, but for now you just wanted to live your life to the fullest before that all got taken away.

With that in mind, you’d taken to going to plenty of the dances and social events in town. You didn’t have a curfew, and no one was around to care about where you were, but even so you tried not to be out too late after dark. That’s always when the people went missing--and they never came back.

That’s why it was the first rule of Santa Carla: Don’t go out after dark.

The official numbers were never right, given how many of the people who disappeared were runaways, but the amount of missing people in Santa Carla had always been unusually high. The only thing they knew for sure was that they always seemed to vanish at night.

The prevalent theory among many of the local teens was aliens. They came out with their flying saucers and abducted unsuspecting people in the night. Others were more practical--they just thought there was a really good serial killer in town.

It could be anyone! They’d say.

But people have always gone missing in Santa Carla--is he an old man, still killing people in his 70s? Someone else would question.

Okay, so a family of serial killers! They’d say back.

Personally, you had no idea who or what was making people disappear. You only cared about surviving it, and the best way to do that was stay in at night.

Then, there was the second rule of Santa Carla: Stay away from the greasers.

There was a particularly nasty group of punks who usually hung around the Boardwalk at night. No one knew who they were--probably just another group of runaways--but people had grown to know they were trouble. A gang of greasers who didn’t care about the law and would sooner gut a man than say hello. That’s what people said about them, anyway.

So imagine your surprise when you broke both rules in a single night.

The night in question started out well enough. You and a friend had gone to the beach in the afternoon, and spent most of the day there. At one point, the two of you had attracted the attention of some boys--who ended up spending the day with you.

So when the sun got low and it was time to leave, your friend decided to accept the invitation from the boys to go get some dinner at the local diner. You however, weren’t as excited about the prospect. Not only did you not want to be out too late, you frankly just weren’t that interested in any of them. Your friend tried to get you to change your mind, but you held firm.

And so it was that your friend headed off with the guys. At least she brought you into town so you wouldn’t have so far to walk to get home. And while you weren’t jazzed about walking home alone you figured you could make it back quick enough that it’d be okay. Unfortunately, it was nearly dark before you even made it back to town--and well into the night by the time you walked past the Boardwalk.

You tried to hurry your way through the crowded streets of tourists and late-night couples walking hand in hand without any trouble. But of course that's exactly what you find.

"Hey there pretty lady, going my way?" A big guy in a varsity sweater asks. He looked like a jock--maybe home from college? You didn't know him, and you certainly didn't want to.

"Sorry, I'm in a hurry." You say, hoping to sidestep him and continue on your way. He moves to stand in front of you.

"Aw, don't be like that doll." He says, looming over you. "I just want to get to know you."

"Well I'm not interested." You say, trying to push past him. He grabs your wrist, squeezing so tight it makes you wince in pain.

"Not so fast girlie--we ain't done talking yet." He says, pulling you back.

Oh God, this is it. He's a part of that serial killer family and you're about to get murdered.

Your frantic thoughts are interrupted as the creep let's you go. He screams as he looks to his other side. You follow his gaze and see a greaser with blonde, curly hair standing next to him--the jock's wrist in his hand. He squeezes it tighter and the jock falls to one knee, yelling in pain.

"Don't like it so much on the receiving end, do yah punk?" The boy says, squeezing even tighter. Despite being smaller than the other boy, the greaser was still clearly stronger.

"What the hell man? Let me go!" The jock begs.

"You want me to let you go?" The greaser smirks. "Alright." He lets the guy go, before quickly using his now free hand to punch him square in the face. The boy falls back, holding his bloody, broken face in his hands. The greaser grabs the bleeding boy by the collar and pulls him up, smiling at him. "Now beat it before I decide to get serious." He says, dropping his collar. The boy scrambles up and runs off, disappearing down an allyway.

You watch him run off, stunned by what had just happened.

"You okay?" The blonde asks, having turned his attention to you. You practically jump out of your shoes.

"What? Oh." You look down at your wrist. "Yeah, it's fine--I mean, um, I'm fine." You stumble through before looking back up at him. "Thank you."

"No problem. Punks like that deserve a good beating." He says, before he smirks. "And I couldn't let him hurt a pretty thing like you, now could I?"

Uh oh, you may have just gone out of the frying pan and into the fire.

"So what's your deal anyway? You know it's not safe walking around alone at night, right?" He asks, ignoring your apprehensive look.

"We'll um," You hesitated, unsure of how much you should say about yourself. "I was out with a friend, but she had other plans. She drove, so..."

"So now you're stuck walking back. I get you." He says. "Pretty uncool of your friend, ditching you like that. But hey, I'll make sure you get home safe."

"What?" You nearly shout. "Um, no really that's not necessary. I'm fine now, so--"

"No way. I already told you--you're way too cute to be out here on your own." He says, cutting off your attempt to protest. "My bike's nearby, let's go."

"I would really hate to put you out," you try once more to worm our way out of the situation, but he wasn't having it.

He smirks, "I offered didn't I? Don't worry about it." He grabs your hand and all but drags you down the block.

Soon enough, you arrive at a parking lot, and he leads you towards a row of four motorcycles lined up in the corner. He lets you go, moving to the bike at the end and throwing his leg over to sit. He looks at you, holding out his hand. You were pretty sure you couldn't get away from him even if you tried, so you took a deep breath and accepted his outstretched hand. He helps you onto the back of the bike, smirking as gravity slide you down towards him.

"So princess, were are we going?" he asks, tilting his head back to look at you sitting behind him. You hesitated giving him your address, but at this point if he wanted to do something nefarious he didn't need to take you home first.

You were in too deep now.

You tell him, and he nods, "Yeah, I know the place." He starts the bike, giving you one last smirk as he revves the engine, "Better hold on tight."

Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist as the bike shoots forward. You gripped him tightly, you head resting on his back. You squeezed your eyes shut, fear coursing through you as your heartbeat raced. As much as you knew you should watch where you were heading, you were too scared to open your eyes. He was going fast--very fast--and with each bump and turn, you were sure you would crash and that would be the end of it.

But the two of you didn't crash, and before you knew it the bike slowed to a stop. You dared to open an eye, and saw you sat in front of your house. A little run down and a bit worse for wear, but still yours. You sat up, shocked you had not only survived the ride, but that he had actually brought you home.

"This it?" he asked like he already knew the answer. You turned to him,

"Oh, um--yes, it is."

"Doesn't look like anyone's home," he commented absently, and you felt your shoulders tense.

"Oh, my parents are here--they just go to bed early," you lied. Something told you he knew you weren't telling him the truth, but he didn't say anything.

You hoped off the bike, smoothing the wrinkles from your skirt out of habit. You took a step towards your door, then stopped. You turned, looking back at the smirking, curly-haired boy sitting lazily on his bike.

"Thank you again. For bringing me home, and for helping me with that guy earlier, " you were still scared of him, but he had helped you. It would be bad manners not to at least thank him for his help.

He laughs, the moonlight catching his blue eyes as he stared back at you.

"Anytime, princess," he replies. He started his bike, glancing back up at you, "I'm Marko, by the way."

"Oh, I'm y/n." You had certainly not planned to tell him your name, but at this point could it really hurt?

"Well, I'll see you around, y/n," he says, his smile wide and mischievous. Before you could say anything more, he rode off down the quiet street, disappearing into the darkness.

#marko the lost boys #the lost boys #marko x reader #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys imagine

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citrus-teas · 9 months ago

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Went walkin' after midnight...

Full on Twitter!!

Ah if the link's broken, try this https://x.com/citrus_teas/status/1818342171793408278?t=K4aN5tgYkk1WfQqdvXeONQ&s=19

#johnny silverhand #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk art #male v cyberpunk #gay!#ripley tag #johnny tag #art tag

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lowkeyrobin · 10 months ago

Note

hey!

idk if you’re still writing but if u are - and have the time - could you maybe write fourth grade or ray seeing the readers sh scars? totally understandable if not :))

ooo yeah sure! ; also I'm still active I promise haha, if I ever had to retire (which will hopefully never happen) I'd probably but a thing in my bio to detail that I'm gone temporarily/permanently ; but yeah, it's all cool, I've written ab sh plenty of times before and I'm fine with writing about it ; decided to do ray on this one cause I've given fg enough attention atm haha ; and thank you for requesting! hope you enjoy!

RAY ; don't hurt yourself again

summary ; he finds your sh scars

warnings ; language, substances, self harm & weapons (razors/scissors iykwim) used (slightly) in detail to cause physical harm

disclaimers ; pre-stevie era

word count ; 1.3k

masterlist

This hot, sunny summer day was no different than any other. Patsy Cline's Walkin' After Midnight rung in your headphones, your cassette player quietly whirring as it plays your mixtape. The summer vibe had finally hit you, inspiring you to get with the theme and listen to some more beachy/summery songs for the season.

Ray always found it funny how you had such a taste for music. He didn't get how certain music was only for certain seasons or only gave you the vibes of a certain time, but he wasn't against it. You were way better at making mixtapes than he was.

Speaking of him, you were on your way to meet him at an abandoned pool you'd found a couple months ago. It was around sunset, the heat wearing down against your back.

Trust, the pool was clean, you made sure of it. But you found it as some hole in the concrete by some unused project apartments, water just sitting stagnant inside. You pick up your pace a bit, wanting to hurry before the sun completely set.

As you arrive, you see Ray, Fuckshit, Fourthgrade, and Ruben, dressed down to their boxers as they fuck around in the water. You wave hello as they welcome you, watching as you strip down into whatever you preferred to wear in the water.

You join them as the moon illuminates the pool, the only other slight source of light being the mostly burned out street lamps.

You end up starting a little water war, with you, Ray, and Fourthgrade against Fuckshit and Ruben. It was mostly just a splash party, with lots of shouting and yelling. Said shouting and yelling earned you a noise complaint, causing police to come deal with you.

"Hey! Hands up, get out of the pool!"

As flashlights are pointed at you all, you quickly scramble out, grab your belongings, and run barefoot down the street to avoid the police. You laugh and yell to one another as you sprint down the road, adrenaline fueling you as you aren't able to feel the rocks in the road wedge into your feet.

You hide in a garden, lit up just enough so you'd be able to put your clothes on properly and be able to tie your shoes. You shove your dry clothes on over your wet ones, attempting to warm up before you begin to freeze due to the cold water soaked in your under clothing.

You notice Ray staring at you a little too long before looking away as you slide your shirt on. You brush it off, maybe thinking he was looking over at one of the other guys, and you happened to be in the way, or maybe he saw a rabbit or a squirrel run through the lawn.

You and Ray separate from Fourthgrade, Fuckshit, and Ruben, as the trio were planning to go to some 24 hour diner to eat dinner before heading home. You and Ray head the opposite way, wanting to go home as sleep slowly creeps up on you both.

Your walk home is mostly silent, warm street lamps lighting your way down the sidewalk. You slowly glide on your board next to Ray, who decides to walk. He shakes his locs out of his face to look up at you.

"Do you hurt yourself?" He asks bluntly, unable to word what he wanted to ask any differently.

"What?" You quickly look at him confused, almost shocked. "No"

"I saw scars on your arms earlier when we were in that garden," He speaks, "Those weren't cat scratches or just rush burns or some dumb shit, those were cuts. It's fine if you don't wanna talk about it, but it's not fine to bottle it up and just hurt yourself. Like, we're here for you, okay?"

You slightly shrug and look away, your foot hitting the pavement as you give yourself a little push. "I don't hurt myself anymore"

"Oh"

You hold back a light smile. "Yeah"

"When did you hurt yourself then?" He asks, almost disappointed in himself that he never caught onto it if it was in the past. "Why?"

You shrug as you give him a blunt explanation. "Long ago. They're just scars for a reason. Life got rough, and I didn't know how else to cope. I was too scared to drink or smoke like you guys, but I was somehow able to hurt myself instead."

He nods. "Sorry"

You nod, "It's cool. I was waiting for it to happen anyways. Just another consequence of my actions, but I've grown and yknow, sappy shit"

He chuckles, "Yeah, yeah."

He pulls a blunt from his pocket, like he'd pulled it from Mary Poppins' bag, considering he just randomly had it and a lighter. He lights it up, puffing it to feel a little calmer about what you'd told him. He was such an extreme empath when it came to shit like this because he knew what the bottom felt like after losing his brother. He understood but didn't know how to help, so he just listened.

The rest of the walk is fairly quiet, the smell of weed filling your noses while the sound of your board rolling on the concrete whirs in your ears.

He waves a slightly awkward goodbye as he walks up to his front porch, knowing you'd stay on the sidewalk until he actually got inside. He grabs at the screen door, pulling on it to realize it was locked. Within the Marry Poppins pockets he had, he surprisingly didn't have his housekey.

He turns back to look at you, giving you a look you knew all to well. You laugh before waving him down to you, offering up your bed for him. He jogs back down the sidewalk to catch up as you'd already drifted away, knowing he'd follow like a lost puppy.

He holds onto your hand as you trail down the neighborhood towards your house, trying to hide the fact that holding your hand was his only comfort that he knew you weren't currently hurting yourself.

You open your front door to let him inside, placing a finger over your mouth to tell him to hush as you walk toward your room. You close the door and hand him some clothes he'd be able to wear to bed, allowing him to go to the bathroom to change while you also change.

You both flop down on your bed, sitting in silence as you stare up at the ceiling covered in glow in the dark stars. A lamp illuminates the room, covering it in a warm blanket.

He turns to look at you. "Do you wanna talk about it at all? Get it off your chest?"

You shrug before answering, "Yeah. I mean, what do you wanna know?"

He shrugs in response. "What'd you use?"

"Scissors, razors, pencil sharpeners. Anything sharp, used a knife once."

"Damn" He mutters. "How often did you do it?"

"About multiple times almost every day" You answer. "I was at the bottom then"

"When was then?" He asks, "A few weeks, months, years ago?"

"Months" You answer carefully. "I'm not anywhere near depressed like that anymore, I swear"

He nods, turning on his side to look at you as you speak. "You know you can reach out for help, right? Like, we aren't gonna yell at you or something, we wanna help you, I promise"

You quickly nod. "Yeah, it's just, when you're that low, you don't think help will actually help. I was worried if I reached out, I'd just be thrown to the side or I'd be yelled at and lose everything I have left."

He nods. "Can you promise me you won't hurt yourself again?"

You smile, appreciating the thought of those words. You hold your pinkie out to him, allowing him to shake his with yours to pinkie promise on it.

"I promise"

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