#Best haircuts for fine hair

[roguelov]

I think I might shave my head again for all the wrong reasons

[uncanny-tranny]

you mentioned the "first reansmasc haircut" thing and i gotta say its not just a white thing, i did the same thing lol

I didn't want to be overly presumptuous because hairstyles are incredibly diverse, but... it's nice to know this is a thing we can share regardless of what The Haircut happens to have been 🙏

[thebeautifulfantastic]

i really want to be one of those beautiful girls who always have impeccable hair and natural-looking makeup but the truth is most days i truly don’t have the desire to put anything more than the bare minimum into my appearances

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Daisies and Haircuts

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Usually, Logan can get a read on everybody. Except, when it comes to you, he can't. So he makes it his mission to find out the truth, but when he does...he doesn't exactly know how to take the news.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff with a bit of angst, some steam towards the end. Descriptions of blood, casualties and aftermath of a tornado. Not Proof Read.

If there was one thing Logan prided himself on, it was being able to tell when people were lying or telling the truth. 

However, from the minute he met you…he didn’t have an explanation for it. 

Most of the time, he could hear people’s heartbeats or their breathing. Both would quicken when they were lying. Even the best liars couldn’t hide from him. 

But there was something about you he just couldn’t shake. Your voice didn’t change or shake, your heartbeat didn’t speed or falter - neither did your breathing. 

And yet he didn’t believe a word you said when it came to you being human. 

Professor Xavier had reached out to you to fill in one of the teaching positions when he met your cousin. And from his knowledge, your entire family was mutant. From grandmother, to grandfather, to cousins, to even siblings. 

And somehow, you were the only human. 

No mutant gene detected. 

And even if his school did have a reputation for having mutant teachers, you were the first human to attend the school in any manner. 

“Logan, if you’re gonna just stand there all day, you might as well offer to help.”

Your back was completely turned to him. You had been writing on the whiteboard for the last five minutes, not once looking anywhere near the door where he was leaning. 

“How did you know it was me?”

You chuckled a little as he walked inside, picking up a pile of books on the way in. “Please, I could smell the cigar smoke.”

Logan shrugged, placing two books at the end of each desk as he made his way to you. “You know, I can scare Storm, Jean- even Scott. But never you. I wonder why that is?”

Logan stood beside you as you turned. He was looking at you like how he always did. A knowing smile (maybe it was a smirk), but a look of wonder and curiosity in his eyes. 

You just smiled up at him. “Logan, I grew up with over twelve cousins. There wasn’t a day when you didn’t have to have eyes in the back of your head, and still at least one kid ended up hurting themselves.”

Walking around him and back to your desk, his eyes followed you. 

“That’s not the only thing.”

“What ‘thing’ exactly?” 

Sometimes it felt like this conversation between you and Logan happened every other day. You had been working at the school for a little over a year, and before that had shadowed for at least six months to understand how to truly help your kids. 

He had been like this since day one. 

Maybe a little more gruffer and scarier in the beginning…he had made you jump just a little when you closed the fridge door and found him standing there with that sceptical, over-protective look on his face. 

“You know what ‘thing’.”

You shook your head. “I really don’t, Logan.”

He walked closer to your desk and leaned his hands against it, coming face to face with you. “You’re a mutant.”

As he was so close, your eyes scanned his face and around his body. “You need a haircut.”

“It’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“I can cut it for you. Just take a little bit off the sides.” 

“Why do you keep avoiding the subject?” Logan asked with a laughing smile as he stood back up. 

“Because you seriously need a haircut, Logan.” You moved your fingers through the top of his hair. “You look like a crazed mountain man who’s just escaped from Frankenstien’s lab.”

Logan stepped away from you during your analogy. “Are you calling me a green monster?”

“Frankenstein is the Doctor.” 

“Huh.”

You shook your head. “Either way, you need a haircut.”

“Fine, but I will get it out of you sooner or later.” 

“Goodbye, Logan.”

Those were Logan’s final words before he left your classroom, but not before taking a final look at you as your head was turned. 

The next time he saw you was just before lunch when a couple of kids were playing a round of football outside. And for a while, Logan’s eyes remained on you as you read your book. It was like the world didn’t exist outside of your book. 

And yet you were tuned in to everything that was happening. 

Logan heard one of the kids shout before the ball went flying past the posts and it was heading straight for you. He could barely finish shouting your name before…

You caught it. 

Without looking up, you had caught the ball in your hands, simply looked up and then threw it back. “Be careful!”

“Sorry!”

Logan was a little in shock as he stood at the top of the stairs, his arms folded across his chest. He’d seen your reflexes a few times before. You had caught plenty of mugs that were about to fall off the side of the counter, just as you walked into the room. You’d also stopped piles of books crashing loudly to the ground, opened windows just as tennis balls came flying at them, as well as catching them and throwing them back. 

And now you had caught a football without even looking up. 

You hadn’t been at the school two years and yet Logan practically had a list tallied in his head of the things that had happened that simply couldn’t just be explained away. 

Could they?

“Oh, come on. Just admit it. You’re a mutant.”

Your lungs were tired of sighing. “Logan. I’m not a mutant.”

“Your entire family has the mutant gene.”

“So,” you shrugged, twisting some pepper into the pot before replacing the cap and setting it on the side. “It skipped me.”

“Your reflexes are barely human.”

“Logan, like I have told you a million times, I grew up around a lot of kids. A lot of mutant kids who had no control over their powers. I had to get good reflexes just to save on the amount we spend on broken windows.”

Logan moved out of your way as you walked across the kitchen, taking a couple of things from the fridge. 

“You never get scared.”

You looked back at him. “Are you calling me brave?”

“Nobody can scare you, Y/n. Last Halloween it was like you knew when someone was hiding around the corner.”

“It was Halloween. Everyone tries to scare each other on Halloween.”

Logan closed his eyes in frustration for a moment. “Not even Halloween. Nobody can scare you. Even today, you knew I was standing by your door.”

Stopping what you were doing, you looked at him. “Logan, when it comes to you, I can smell the cigar smoke a mile away. And, besides growing up in a household where it was normal to try and scare each other, nobody in this school is exactly going to be the next Prima Ballerina.”

Logan’s arm practically shot out. “That’s another thing! Your sense of smell.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is this about the cigar smoke? Are you becoming nose blind to it?”

“You smelt Scott’s burnt breakfast before the rest of us did. You knew when Rogue had changed her shampoo. You even knew Storm had planted some new flowers in the garden.”

You went to open your mouth but Logan cut you off. 

“And don’t say you saw the flowers because you were with me that whole afternoon and didn’t see Storm until after dinner.”

You sighed. “It wasn’t because I saw the flowers. I was going to say I saw the dirt on her hands when she walked inside. Plus, I knew she was looking to plant more flowers in the garden beds.”

Logan leaned forward. “Did you have a conversation about it?”

“About the flowers?”

“Because I don’t remember her telling us when she was going to plant them because she wanted them to be a surprise.”

You shrugged. “The dirt still gave it away.”

Logan shook his head. “That’s another one right there. You know…how do you know what we’re all thinking? I know you’re not reading our minds because if you were, it would be like when the Professor or Jean does it. No…it’s something else.” 

Logan was truly watching you. Studying you. Listening to your heartbeat. Listening to your breathing. 

“I was a psych major. I studied my ass off and read up extra things in my time. It’s not so hard.” You explained to Logan. “Most of the time it’s just body language. And remembering the small things. They go a long way in getting to know who a person is.”

“I don’t think it’s just that. Maybe it’s part of it.” Logan sat up straight. “But that’s not your whole story.”

“Why are you so fixed on my story?”

Except, rather than explain, Logan gave you that smile again and walked towards the door. “You’re the psych major, you figure it out.”

“You still need a haircut!”

And like clockwork, Logan was watching you and then questioning you everyday. He’d done it since day one. 

When would he finally realise you were telling him the truth?

A couple of weeks later, you found yourself inside the Professor’s office with Logan and a potential new student and their parents. 

Only, it soon became clear that as much as their child was finally happy to be somewhere where they didn’t stick out like a sore thumb because of their powers, the parents couldn’t have been more uncomfortable. 

“But what about…what about his mutant…problem?” 

You felt your back become straighter as your feet carried you forward, only to feel a small tug from the bottom of your jumper where Logan’s hand was pulling you back to stand beside him. 

“I can assure you, Harry’s mutation is not a problem.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the three teachers he had quit because of him. You know we can’t even walk down our street without parents judging us for letting their kids' favourite teachers walk out on them.”

Harry seemed to fall into himself. “I already said sorry. I didn’t mean for them to-”

“Harry, it’s quite alright. Sometimes people don’t fully understand what it means to teach a mutant like us. Luckily, we have some of the best teachers right here.”

The father looked at both you and Logan. “These are the best?”

“We have a full staff, however most are teaching right now. Harry, this is Professor Logan. He will be your new History teacher and this is Professor Y/n. She will be teaching you some English, but mostly Social Sciences. She is also our school councillor, so if you ever feel you wish to speak to someone, she is the most qualified for the job.”

Harry gave both you and Logan a small smile. 

He moved into his dorm a week later and started classes almost immediately. 

“Okay, fine. Let me ask you this then.”

Logan hadn’t left you alone all day, so you had finally put him to work. Carrying the pile of books you were pulling from the shelves as you rolled along on the ladder. 

“Why give a human a job of school counsellor in a school filled with mutants?”

“Other than the fact I’m qualified for the job.”

Logan shrugged. “Isn’t it better to put someone into the job who understands what the kid is going through? Rather than just put a diagnosis to it?”

You turned round and he looked up to you. “It doesn’t matter if your human or mutant, everyone has gone through something at some point. Maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be able to walk through walls, or have metal grow out of my knuckles. But I do know what it’s like to feel like an outcast. To feel lost. To feel alone.”

Logan just listened as you slowly turned back and started pulling the desired books from the shelves, adding them to the pile in his arms. 

“I might have gone to a normal school, but everyone knew my family was different. I was too mutant to fit in at school, but too human to fit in with my family. They love me, and I love them. But there were times when topics would come up and…I’d feel alone. Like because I wasn’t one of you, I wouldn’t get it. Eventually, everyone grew up and went on with their lives. Of course it wasn’t easy for them, but they still had each other. Even if every other ignorant asshole pushed them away, they still had each other. But some days it felt like…like I had no one.”

Logan just continued to listen. 

“So, I get your point. What would a human know about being a mutant? But sometimes that’s not the question that needs to be asked.”

A moment of silence passed between you both before finally Logan spoke up. “The kids…they’re lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

“And just so you know,” he added. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Looking down at him, you smiled. “I’m glad.”

Twenty minutes later, you were finished collecting books. Yet, just as Logan laid down the pile, half should have fallen onto the floor. 

Except they didn’t. 

Instead they glided off the top and landed in a semi-neat pile beside him with a soft thud. Logan turned around, shock clear on his face. But you weren’t looking at him, or at the pile. You were closing the doors to the outside balcony on the opposite end of the room. 

“One day,” Logan told himself. “One day.”

“What?”

Logan looked up. “Nothing.”

You just shrugged and walked to stand beside him. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Without looking at him, you flip over the cover of a book in your hands. “You still need a haircut by the way.”

“Don’t mention that, either.”

Two weeks later, as you and Logan were eating lunch together whilst marking some papers, there was a knock at your classroom door. 

Taking a bite of the chicken salad you had made him a bowl of, Logan flipped a paper round and handed it to you. “What does that say? I swear this kid just writes in scribbles.”

You took the page from him. “This is Rogue’s. Isn’t she your little sister or something? Shouldn’t you be fluent in this by now?”

“She’s not my sister. We just came here together. She was a runaway. Found me when I was a cage fighter and stowed away in the back of my trailer.”

Your eyes practically bugged out of your head before you tried your best to hide your smile. “You were a…cage fighter? You? Logan Howlett, as I live and breathe? You sat opposite me with your feet on my desk? You were a cage fighter?”

Logan rolled his eyes with a smile. “Okay, okay. Alright. I get it.”

You shook your head. “I mean, you’ve got the physique for it, I just…” you laughed. “I just never pictured you as a cage fighter. A cage fighter, really?”

“Are you done?”

You bit back another laugh. “I’m-” It came out. “Okay, yes.” You laughed again. “I’m done. Okay, okay,” you breathed through it. “I’m done.”

Logan just gave you a look and raised his eyebrow. 

You nodded with a wide smile. “I’m done. Finished. Promise.”

You even made a cross above your heart. Logan smiled and turned back to marking the papers as you read Rogue’s. 

“What did you picture me as?” 

You hummed a questioned response. 

“You didn’t picture me as a cage fighter.” You held in a laugh. “Stop it.” You tried. “What did you see me as?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. A lumberjack? Bodyguard? A cowboy? Your tags say ‘Army’ but your personality says ‘Macho Man with a Protective Streak’.”

Logan hid his blush well as he turned his head away, the smile on his face not going unnoticed by you. “Alright.”

You loved seeing Logan smile. It wasn’t often he did it, but when he did…you wanted to take a picture. 

Unbeknownst to you, Logan loved it, too. Maybe he wanted to keep up his reputation for how you saw him, as well as for how others saw him. But one thing he was glad of…most of the time when he did smile…it was with you. 

However, as you both shared a laugh, a knock came from your classroom door where you looked to find one of your cousin’s standing by the door. 

“I…there may have been a tiny accident.”

Pulling your own feet from your desk, you sat up and met your cousin half way across your classroom just as Logan pulled his feet from your desk and turned in his chair. 

“Show me.”

Your cousin held out their hand to you. A deep gash was in the middle. 

“Oohhhh kay.” You looked around you. “Logan, open up my top drawer in my desk. There should be some bandages.”

Logan did as you instructed and threw them to you. You caught them and turned back to your cousin. “How did this happen?”

“We were walking through the clearing. I slipped and tried to grab onto a tree branch.”

“And that caused the cut?” You asked as you wrapped their hand.

“Not exactly. I kinda…missed. And grabbed onto a rock instead.”

Logan stood beside you. “You must have found the sharpest rock in the forest.”

He said what you were thinking. 

“How long will it take to heal?”

“That’ll depend.”

“On what?”

“On if you’re thinking about trying to climb the tree again.”

Your cousin panicked. “B-but we weren’t.”

Logan detected a lie. 

“I have known you, your whole life.” You leaned in a little closer. “You need to stop climbing trees after it’s been raining.”

“Okay, fine.”

You took in a small breath. “It should be healed in a couple of hours. Just…wait until it’s dry before you do any more climbing.”

“Thanks, Y/n,”

As your cousin left, Logan remained fixed on his spot as you walked back to your desk. Pointing towards the door your cousin had just walked out from, Logan turned around to you. 

“That was a pretty deep gash. That’ll take more than a couple of hours to heal.”

You looked at Logan for a split second before looking back to the papers in front of you. “It’s part of their mutation. Small things he can heal from, just not as quickly as you. We don’t all have super-healing, Logan.”

Logan gave you a soft smile, but it was still questioning. He walked over to your desk. “But their mutation gives them the ability to control water. Nowhere on their file does it say ‘heal’.”

Your heartbeat jumped. 

Logan leaned up a little from your desk as you looked at him. 

He’d caught you in a lie. 

“Well, it’s not his primary power. My aunt mustn’t have thought it was important.”

Your heartbeat was normal. 

So was your breathing. 

Logan decided to drop it, but it was constantly on his mind. 

Your heartbeat had jumped when he got closer to your desk and mentioned the mutation. 

Either that was the very first lie you had told him, or your mask was slipping. 

For the next two days, Logan practically watched you like a hawk. It was rare his gaze was somewhere else other than you. 

He did question going to the Professor again, but considering he was adamant you weren’t a mutant, Logan considered it wasn’t worth the time. 

He wanted to know why you had lied to him. Or why it was now he’d only just detected it.

However, it was at least another month before he would come to find out the truth. 

“So why are we being called up?”

Scott turned towards the Professor, his arm across his chest. “Because last I checked, aren’t the fire departments meant to help with this kinda thing?”

“Usually, yes. However, we’ve been called personally. There are too many risks for just the average human being.”

A tornado had ripped through a small town, demolishing almost everything. From the brick buildings to houses to even schools. Some people were still trapped under rubble and others were hurt, if not worse. Except, the hospitals could only take so many patients at a time and the nearest hospital was at least two towns away. 

“You’ll be working alongside the departments already stationed there but the main priority is helping people out safely.”

Twenty minutes later, they were headed for the jet. 

And you caught Logan walking down the hall. “Where are you going?”

“There’s been a tornado-”

“In Oklahoma? I saw it on the news.”

“We’re going to help.”

You turned watching Logan walk further down the hall. “Wait, I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why?”

You threw your books into the nearest classroom, letting them softly slide against the desks and into their places. “I can help.”

Logan stopped and looked around. “They’ve already got too many casualties. We’re going because we’re less likely to get hurt.”

You sighed with a look. “Logan, I’ve seen at least half of the casualties. They’re gonna need more than just the X-Men. I can help.”

“Let her go with you, Logan.” The Professor rolled around the corner. “She knows what she’s doing.”

Logan took the Professor’s word for it. “Come on, before they leave without us.”

Passing your room on the way, you grabbed your jacket and a bag from under your bed. Logan looked at you curiously as you shut your bedroom door. 

“Medical supplies.” 

Logan just nodded and placed his hand at the bottom of your back guiding you down the hallway before you both set off running towards the jet. 

Upon landing, everyone got to work. 

Scott and Logan started helping those who were trapped under fallen buildings whilst Storm helped lift most of the rubble away as well as brush away most of the debris from larger areas. 

Jean began setting up medical areas for people to be treated and seen to, and you helped her. 

Thirty minutes later, you heard shouting. 

It was a kid. 

“Help! Please!”

Turning around, you yelled for Logan and he came running. 

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s my leg. I-I’m stuck. Please.”

“Okay, just stay calm. Logan help me lift it.”

Before Logan could even touch the wooden boards holding the kid down, the last half of the house shook. 

“Okay,” you looked from the house to Logan. “We have to move. Quickly.”

From the count of three, you and Logan lifted the boards from the kid, except, as Logan helped the kid out, the rest of the house began to fall. 

“Watch out!” A could firemen shouted. 

Logan barely had time to react, covering the kid with his body, waiting for the impact of the house. Except it never came. 

Slowly opening his eyes, Logan was met with a semi bright light of blue and when he turned around, he was more than shocked at what he saw. 

Coming from you was a safety barrier. The house had fallen but it had fallen onto whatever blue dome you had created. 

Despite the fact you had stopped the house from falling on yourself, Logan and the kid, there was a sting inside of you. How Logan was looking at you…pure shock and hurt…that stung you to your core. 

“Get the kid out of here.”

Logan slowly jolted back into action, pulling the kid out as you turned around and pushed the house back and up before lifting it to a safe distance away from the rest of the people. 

And Logan just watched you. 

“Thank you, sir.”

Logan looked around for the voice after a moment, realising the kid was still beside him. “No worries, kid. How’s the leg? Think you can stand on your own?”

The kid nodded before looking down and paleing. “It’s bleeding.”

“Whoa, hey, okay. Take it easy.”

Logan helped him sit down on a cinderblock just as you got to his side. “Let me see.”

The kid slowly lifted his leg. “I don’t like blood.”

You knelt down and examined his leg. “It’s okay, buddy. Just close your eyes so you don’t have to look.”

“What are you gonna do?” 

You looked at Logan who was all manners of concern, confused and intrigued. 

Looking from him without answering, you allowed your hands to slowly ghost over the kids legs. Before his eyes, a blue light emitted from your palm and slowly healed the cuts on the kid's leg.  

“Okay, you’re all sorted buddy.”

The kid opened his eyes and looked at his leg. The blood stains were still there, but the cuts weren’t.

“Thank you.”

“Do you know if there are any other kids around here?”

The kid pointed you in the direction of where a couple other houses had been standing only the day before and you and Logan went back to work. 

Over the next couple of hours, Logan’s gaze towards you had gone from shock to confusion to anger. 

You had lied to him. 

Not only that, you had lied to all of them. 

“Did you know?” Jean asked, standing beside Logan as he watched you with a little girl who had been crying. From nothing, you conjured up some daisies and whisked it into a flower crown for her hair. Logan’s heart was warm at the sight. The girl had gone from red and puffy eyed to smiling and hugging you. 

Then he remembered. 

“No. I didn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell us? Why lie?”

“I don’t know.”

The girl almost skipped away from you and towards some of her friends she had spotted. You were still crouched down and as you turned, you spotted Logan and Jean. 

One moment of eye contact with you and Logan started walking away in the opposite direction. 

Jean watched as he walked away and you lowered your head, standing and looking around to see if anyone else needed help. 

A firewoman approached you and asked you for help moving some old pieces of the school building. 

When you returned an hour later, the only person you could find was Storm. 

“Those were some pretty cool things you did earlier. My only question is, why not tell people about it?”

You looked at Storm as you helped her hand out small baskets of food for people. “Easier to keep to myself.”

“You know, the first day the Professor told me about you, he said you were something else. I thought it was just because you were the only human in your family. But clearly he saw something else.”

“I’m sorry, for not telling you all.”

Storm shook her head. “You never had an obligation to. It’s your life, Y/n. You get to decide how much you share with the world.”

You sighed, spotting Logan helping a couple of people out by the broken swings in the park. “I wish others could see it like that.”

Storm nudged your shoulder. “He’ll come around. He’s like a walking lie detector. He’ll be more mad at himself for not figuring it out.”

You gave Storm a thanking smile before going back to handing out supplies. 

By nightfall, most things had been cleared up and the hospitals were less packed with patients thanks to yourself and Jean. 

On the ride back you could practically feel the anger radiating from Logan. He would barely look at you. Jean and Storm seemed to be the only ones not pissed at you for not telling them. 

By the time you landed, Logan was the first off the jet, his feet heavy against the stairs as he made his way back into the school. 

“Is there anything else we should know, or do you have more lies stuffed up your sleeves?”

“Scott.” Jean warned. 

“What? You can’t tell me you’re not pissed that she’s lied to us.”

“Scott, she didn’t have to tell us if she didn’t want to.” Storm told him. 

“Still would have been nice to know.”

As Scott walked away, Jean touched your arm. “I’ll deal with him. He’s just hurt, he wasn't the first to find out.”

“How come you two aren’t mad at me?”

Storm and Jean looked at you with a faint smile on their faces. “The power you displayed today…we know what it’s like to want to hide that.”

“And we also know what it’s like to want to keep a secret. You didn’t have to share that part of your story with us, but you did because you wanted to help someone. No one can be mad at you for that.”

“Thanks, guys.”

Jean and Storm smiled as they hugged you. “Anytime. But this does mean you are making us all flower crowns. I wonder if we can get Logan to wear one?”

The three of you walked side by side back into the school. “He needs a haircut, first.”

The next day, you found yourself in the Professor’s office, the rest of the team already there.

And Logan didn’t seem any calmer. 

Just eerily quiet as he watched you from the window, walking inside and standing in the middle of the room. 

“I understand there is something you may need to share with the class?” 

You nodded. “I guess you saw it on the news?”

The Professor nodded, but he didn’t seem mad. “That, and Scott was the first to come and see me this morning.”

You looked at Scott but he just scoffed. “They have a right to know we’ve got Class 4 mutant-”

“Class 5,” you corrected. 

They all turned and looked at you with shock. Logan just stood, his arms still across his chest. 

But the Professor smiled. 

“It seems we have quite a lot to discuss. Everyone, please excuse myself and Y/n.”

Slowly, albeit reluctantly, they all left one by one. 

Your eyes followed Logan but he didn’t look at you. 

With your eyes still on the door he’d just closed, the Professor rounded his desk. “He’ll come to his senses. They all will. Please, have a seat.”

Logan didn’t see or hear from you or the Professor in over three hours. And by the time dinner rolled around, the only person he did see was the Professor. 

“Where is she?”

“Gone.”

Logan nearly shot out of his seat as he looked from the library window to the Professor. “Gone? Where-”

“Relax, Logan. She’ll be back soon enough. I told her it was best if she went and got a little fresh air. You could use some, too. Your brooding is practically stinking this place out.”

Logan fell back into his chair. “She still lied.”

“And she had good reason, too.”

Logan looked back to the Professor. “She comes from an entire family of mutants, Logan. Her childhood was spent being surrounded by those trying to manipulate powers to be something greater than they already were. If she had shown who she truly was, I fear she wouldn’t have become the person she is today. Her family, for as much as they care for her…half of them would have wanted her to stay and have her powers trained into something for their own gain. The other half would have shipped her off to hide out in a country, alone for the rest of her life. They would have been frightened of her, Logan.”

“But why lie to us?”

The Professor sighed. “Logan, if you had spent your entire life being one thing, how long do you think it would take before you feel comfortable and safe enough to share a whole other side of you to someone?”

Logan was silent for a minute. “She said she’s a Class 5.”

Charles picked up the hidden question behind Logan’s statement. “I’ve read her mind, Logan. She’s not like Jean. She’s in full control. Always has been.”

The Professor waited for a couple of minutes. “I know you care for her, Logan. Try and find a way to forgive her for not telling you sooner.”

He made it to the door before looking back at Logan. “Maybe take a walk. It might clear your head. I hear Ororo planted some Evening Primrose. They should be opening up soon.”

With that, the Professor left. 

And somehow, ten minutes later, Logan found himself taking the Professor’s advice. 

Zipping up his hoodie, Logan placed his hands into his pockets as he walked down the steps towards the gardens. It was still a little warm but there was still that hint of chill in the air that let him know Fall would be closing in soon. 

As time passed, Logan felt his mind working around the idea of you and the things you had told him, or rather hadn’t told him. 

And the Professor was right. 

The primroses had begun to open. 

Logan had never really understood why people would watch flowers or do anything with them other than plant them and pull out the weeds a few months later. But as he was contemplating about flowers and why these off all things the Professor told him to look at, he looked up and spotted you. 

You were sitting on an old swinging bench, watching the water softly ripple under the moonlight. 

Logan watched you for a moment. You were calm. You weren’t writing or scribbling in a classroom, you weren’t buzzing around the kitchen or the hallways. 

You were sat, alone, letting your mind concentrate on nothing but the constant movement of the water and the stars in the sky. 

After a few moments, Logan noticed the soft blue glow by the ground around the water. Within a second, he watched as daisy’s and some other wildflowers started to push up from the ground. All the while, a blue wisp, almost like glitter, circled around them and then died away. 

Then stems of grass began to lift before they stretched into what Logan figured out to be lilypads as they glided down onto the water. 

“Figured you’d kicked down a few trees by now.” 

Logan turned and looked back at you. Of course you knew he was there. 

“Trust me, I thought about it.”

Slowly, Logan started walking towards you. 

More flowers grew by the water's edge. 

“You should open your own flower shop.”

You smiled a little. “Would you believe me if I told you I was allergic?”

“I don’t know. Is it the truth?”

You looked up at him. “You tell me.”

Logan could hear your heartbeat. 

And he could hear your breath. 

Both steady. 

“I’m not hiding anything else from you, Logan,” you assured him. 

Logan just raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue as he moved to sit beside you. “Hard to tell these days.”

“I know you wanted to know but it was easier to keep it hidden.”

Logan nodded. “The Professor explained it to me. But everything you said in the library…”

“I was living a normal life, Logan. To my family I am human. To everyone else I was the only human in a mutant family. What I said to you that night…I meant it. I know what it’s like to be alone and to feel lost.”

“And now?”

You shrugged a little. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.” Logan looked at you. You turned in your seat and looked back at the water, your fingers picking at your own hands. “And Scott. And the others. The Professor wants me to stay on, but I don’t know if I can-”

“You should stay.”

You looked back at Logan. 

“You should stay,” he repeated. “The kids…they love you. Besides, who else is gonna be able to read Rogue’s handwriting.”

“What about the others?”

Logan gave a slight nod. “They’ll come around. Scott will come around. Jean will see to that.”

“And what about you?”

Logan didn’t know what to say. 

“I care about you, Logan. I don’t know if I could carry on working here knowing you hate me for lying to you. Even worse…not being able to trust me. I am sorry for not telling you the truth, but I hope one day you can see why I did.”

“I think the Professor explained most of it.” Logan told you. “And I get why you didn’t tell us. It still hurts, but I get it.”

Your gaze fell on Logan’s face as he watched the forest come alive under the stars. 

“I care about you, too.” 

Finally, Logan’s gaze held onto yours. 

Part of you was held in suspense for when he would look away. Your heart braced itself for him to turn away. For him to say something your heart didn’t want to hear and for him to leave. 

As Logan looked at you, your heartbeat was like an echo of his own. Faint in the background, drowned out by his own rushing through his ears. 

“Promise me…” Logan tried to find his words as his own hand found yours on the bench. “Promise me you’ll keep talking to me. That you’ll tell me things. That you won’t have any more secrets with me? Good or bad…I want to know them.”

You nodded. “I promise. So long as you promise me something, too.”

Logan gave a slight smile. “Don’t think you’re in the right area to ask for promises jus-”

You sat up and turned your body towards him, your hands enveloping his hand. Logan remained silent the minute he saw your relaxed smile. 

“Promise me you’ll talk to me, too. And that you won’t try and hide your smile from me.”

Your hand grazed Logan’s cheek and he practically smiled into it. 

“I like seeing your smile.” 

Logan smiled. “I like seeing yours, too.”

With his elbow propped up against the back of the bench, his fingers slowly brushed your loose hair from your face to behind your ears and down your neck. Logan turned his head for a moment, his other hand coming to hold yours against him before he pressed a kiss to your palm. 

From there, he simply placed your hand over his heart. 

And you smiled. 

His heart calmed at your touch, and he could hear yours. 

With a soft smile that was very quickly turning into a smirk, Logan leaned forward, holding you steady before he finally kissed you. 

He wouldn’t notice until the next day but the wildflowers that bloomed by the waters edge, just as he kissed you, dug their roots permanently. Even when questioned why they could grow so close to the water without any other explanation than it being a fluke, Logan knew the truth. 

And it anyone was to question their origins and their symbolism: Eternal Love

It might finally provide an explanation. 

Pulling back to catch his breath, he heard you let out a small laugh. 

“What?”

“You seriously need a haircut.”

Logan groaned. “Still?”

“Just a little.”

A few weeks later, Logan found himself being pushed into a chair in his room as you wrapped a towel over his shoulders and pulled out a pair of hairdresser scissors and a comb. 

“You know, you could have just asked to cut my hair. You didn’t have to trick me into it.”

“Logan, I have been asking you for months. Be lucky I didn’t ask Hank to knock you out and drag you here.”

“Do you even know how to cut hair?”

You started the first couple of snips. “One of the first things I learned to do. Besides learning how to cook. People can only take so many bowl cuts and parsnip soup from Great-Aunt Vi.”

Logan smirked. “Sounds delicious.”

“Sure, if you love parsnip water with cabbage.”

You moved around to stand in front of Logan, his legs opening for you to step into them. It wasn’t long before his hands found your hips. 

Your heart jumped a little. 

“Stop it.”

Logan looked at you innocently enough. “I’m not doing anything.”

His hands glided a little higher before you whacked his knuckles with your comb. He tried his best to hold back his smirk. 

“Tease.”

It was your turn to hold back your reaction. “I’m trying to cut your hair. Distractions don’t help.”

“Don’t look distracted to me.”

You smirked a little, continuing to comb through and cut his hair. “Believe me, I’m plenty distracted.”

Logan chuckled and his hands moved back down to your hips before making repetitive strokes up and down your thighs and back to your hips. 

Time passed slowly, albeit calmly. 

“Okay, all done.”

You held a mirror in front of him. “What’d you think?”

Logan nodded before pushing the mirror down and pulling you closer to him before you found yourself sitting in his lap. “It’s nice, but I think I prefer this view.”

You blushed before kissing him, his hand raking through your hair, his breath pulling you closer. 

It wasn’t long before you were straddling his lap, his hands holding you steady by your ass and thighs. 

“Shouldn’t we,” Logan kissed you. “Be getting ready,” He kissed you again. “For dinner?”

“Good thing it starts at seven.”

You giggled a little as Logan smiled before his lips made their way down your jaw line and down your neck. Your own arms wrapped around his neck as you rocked forward on him a little, a groan coming from the back of his throat. 

“That’s in an hour.”

“Gives us plenty of time then.”

You smiled. “To do what?”

A small gasp came from you as Logan stood up with you, your legs wrapping around him. “To get ready.”

With a suggestive eyebrow raise and a small bite of his lip, you let out a small laugh before kissing him again, his chuckle vibrating against your lips as he walked you towards the en-suit bathroom. 

A small wisp of blue turned on the shower, letting the water heat up, all the while Logan set you down on the sink counter, the blue wisp locking the door, and him slowly removing your clothes before his lips left a trail in their wake, your own hands working to remove his clothes. 

By a stroke of luck, neither of you were late to dinner (this time) but there wasn’t much time left for drying your hair. Logan was still towel drying his before you both reached the dining room. 

“I see someone finally got a haircut.” 

Hank was dishing out mashed potatoes onto each plate. 

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh. honey.” Your hand pressed against Logan’s chest before you kissed his lips. “It was.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining afterwards.” Logan mumbled to you through a smirk.

You blushed brightly. Logan’s smirk prominent on his face,  his hand trained down your back and over your ass before coming to pull you in by your hips. 

Soon, everyone else piled into the dining room, you all finding your designated seats. With Logan’s beside yours, his hand remained on your upper thigh for most of the meal. 

However, no one seemed to notice that with each squeeze Logan gave you, a small row of daisies planted themselves outside, just below the windowsill. 

[kajibunny]

⊹ . ݁ ⟡ the kaji fanclub (ren kaji x reader) ft. kusumi ₊✩‧₊˚

✿ summary: you and kaji’s vice captain created your own fanclub, a kaji fanclub. kaji finds out about it, so long story short, he gives you his honest feedback. ✿ contains: fluffy crack (is that a thing), suggestive themes (only on bonus part), kaji is your boyfriend, teasing and nonstop praise for kaji (i could talk about this man all day watch me)  ✿ a/n: my first wb fic!! kusumi would absolutely be the best wingman for you and kaji! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) i really like kusumi and his character design! he is so underrated but he's one of the cutest!  ✿ wc: 1.2k

ren kaji knew that you had been up to something lately. 

you and his vice captain kusumi have been busy giggling nonstop and checking your phones like a bunch of middle school girls, with you gushing and gasping about "how cute!" and "that's so perfect!" while looking down at your screen, showing only kusumi what was on it, receiving a reaffirming nod from the vice captain. 

at first, kaji was fine with it and did not care at all. he found it nice that you got along so well with kusumi, but after an hour of you two still going at it and not paying full attention to him when he tried to tell you something, he swore he was about to throw a fit if you didn't quit it.

what kaji didn't know was that you and kusumi are the co-presidents of the "kaji club" on social media, where you post pictures of daily kaji updates. 

at first, it was just because you found everything about your boyfriend so insufferably cute - his bowl haircut, his blond hair that he dyed all by himself, his unreadable expression, his never ending supply of lollipops, his iconic high kick, his sharp little canines (that sometimes you received little love bites from), his unpenetrable eardrums that were exposed to such loud music everyday, and much, much more. 

you wanted to give the whole world a glimpse of that cuteness - but that goes without saying that only you got the full package to yourself. 

so you thought about how funny it would be if he had his own fanclub. well, why not? if people loved him enough to vote him as their grade captain, then for sure he'd have lots of fans, right? and eventually, your idea turned into a reality. 

kusumi would send you the pictures he took that day, and you would manage the fanclub account. this time it was of kaji jumping into the water to save a cat while on patrol (as well as him patrolling topless afterwards - needless to say that particular picture was saved in your phone in a heartbeat, but you never uploaded it, it was for you and only you, his lover, to see and appreciate.) 

eventually, the kaji fanclub blew up to be an overnight sensation, mostly members of bofurin and the townspeople of makochi are among his biggest fans, but of course, you will always be ren kaji's number one fan.

"what the hell are you two laughing about?" kaji huffed in annoyance, trying to get a peek at your phone screen. 

you smile sweetly at him, letting out a "hm?", acting all innocent and telling him it was nothing and that he shouldn't worry about it. 

kaji, still having his suspicions that you were up to your shenanigans again, grabbed your phone from your hands and took a look at what you were so fixated with - it was a picture of kaji drinking from his bottled water with the caption "here is our super cool grade captain reminding everyone to always stay hydrated!~" then next it was a close up of kaji holding his lollipop. "today's lollipop flavor is peach! fun fact: it is also ren kaji's favorite fruit." it says.

oh. so that's what it was.

it was so random, that kaji couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards, almost smiling. he found it so unexpected and ridiculous but managed to keep a straight face.

"delete it." he cleared his throat, trying to fight back his amusement at the two of you coming up with something like this for him.

"no! give it back, ren! it's for our kaji fanclub! it already has more than a hundred likes, see! umemiya even commented-" you started, whining and pouting at your boyfriend, who rolled his eyes at you.

he hands you back your phone and sighs. "i don't need a hundred likes." kaji says, firmly. "because i already have the one like i need right here." 

you gasped when you realized that kaji was referring to none other than you, his "one like" that he needed. kaji, upon becoming aware of how lovestruck he probably sounded, turned his back away from you and put his headphones back on.

you fangirled so hard at that moment, all giddy and smiling at your boyfriend, teasing him about how you were of course his number one fan and that you wanted to have his autograph.

kusumi was sitting across the both of you, and snapped a picture when you were rubbing your cheek against kaji's, him side-eye glancing at your overjoyed, smiling face. kaji is still so fond of you, even if you did silly things like this.

kusumi, beaming from ear to ear, shows the both of you the picture he took, and typed a message on his phone. it read: "you two are so cute, my favorite couple! <3 get a guy that looks at you with so much love the way kaji does! >///< #couplegoals" he adds "i really ship you two!" 

you and kaji read the message on kusumi's notes app. when he finished reading, he let out an exasperated sigh. kaji points at you and kusumi. "i have no idea what a "ship" is, but right now i just want to ship you two off to somewhere far away." 

he was kidding, of course. you knew that he would let you do what you wanted anyway, as long as he could see your lovely smile and how happy he made you, kaji wouldn't ask for nothing more. because plot twist, ren kaji is also your number one fan.

ꕤ bonus ꕤ

once you got home, kaji made sure to let you know his exact thoughts regarding your fanclub.

"tch. you don't need to have my face on your phone, you know. you can have the real thing right here." he leans in closer to you, pulling his lollipop out of his mouth and replacing it with your lips.

the next morning, after waking up from a long and eventful night with kaji, you expressed your shock upon gazing at yourself in the mirror and finding out you've been marked up by little purple bruises and love bites that left some of kaji's teeth marks littering everywhere, but most prominently on your neck, thighs and chest area.

"ren kaji! what the hell is this!" you exclaimed, waking him up with a jolt, you pointing at all the parts he left his marks on. 

he stared at it for a second, admiring his handiwork. "you said you wanted to have my autograph."

"i didn't mean it like this!" you sighed, wondering how in the world you would be able to go out looking like this, all bitten and marked up by kaji. 

"i can always sign it again for you if it fades. i'm all yours, after all." he said it with such a straight but smug face and he was so unapologetic about it that you wanted to smack him. or have him devour you again. or both. 

you can't be the only one showing him your appreciation, because kaji has his ways of showing his too.

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[johnleeswife]

Jealous

Pairing: Sylus x long hair reader

Warning: None, but this is my first fanfic so please bear with my mistake

You forget to tie your hair that night. The wind is a little strong too so your hair getting messier. Almost all of Sylus's pupils are men and you know that Sylus or them don’t have any hair tie.  Suddenly you see one of Sylus's men with long hair. You run to him and ask “Hey do you happen to have any spare hair tie for me?” and lucky he has, “The wind is strong tonight right? Here use min… Sy-sy-sylus!”. You confuse why he’s trembling then you turn around and see Sylus standing behind you. Sylus men then excuses himself and runs away.

“What are you doing?” he is asking you. “I asked him if he has a spare hair tie. Why?”. Sylus face bitter, “Why didn’t you ask me?”.

“Do you have it?”

“No”

“Exactly, I asked people who has the best chance to have a hair tie and I know you do not”

Sylus’s face is not getting any better than before. “Come on let’s go inside, it’s getting chilly”

The next day you see that Sylus men, something is different. “Hey there! You got a new haircut? You cut it pretty short tho”. He giggles and rubs his head “Sylus make new rules. Long hair is prohibited now”. You know what’s going on. You run straight to his chamber and burst into his door without knocking.

“If you jealous just say it. Don’t make it difficult for other people”

“What do you mean?” he looks at you and swirls his glass of wine.

“Remove it. Remove the rules”

“What are you tal-”

“Sylus!”

“Okay, fine I will. Come on sit here”

“I want to see it with my own eyes that you said it to your man”

Sylus getting annoyed, “…Fine”

After that, all of Sylus's men know who is the real boss here. They start to treat you even more respect than already are and Sylus is not happy at all. Well as long as you stay by his side, he has to endure it.

[cherriegyuu]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C4skP1tuO6F/?igsh=MTNtamg3ZmM1aDgxbw==

Can u plssss make a husband mingyu fic of his daughter absolutely hating his haircut go from long to extremely short causing him to sulk and hate his own hair then y/n having to comfort him😭😭 this video legit reminded me of this instantly idek how

i'm not supposed to be taking requests but this was just something that stuck to my mind ever since i read it. so here it is! i hope you like it! i'm also just in time for his birthday

when he cuts his hair

pairing: mingyu x fem!reader genre: fluff word count: 769 warnings: slightly suggestive not proofread

You did your best to contain your smile, or at least tried to hide it, as your daughter cried into your shoulder, her small tears soaking your shirt and her hands balled into tiny fists in your hair. Under normal circumstances, you’d have taken her hand away but in that moment, it seemed like the only option to have her calm down. 

Your husband sat on the couch, the blanket you kept on the back of it wrapped around his head and shoulder, as his eyes were two full moons in his face. Mingyu was a mixture of laughter and unwashed tears as he watched your daughter cry into you. 

“I didn’t know” his voice came out in a whine, his hold on the blanket tightening “I thought it would be okay”

Mingyu had left the house that morning saying “I’m going to cut hair, I’ll be right back”. He had kept his hair longer for almost a year and it was probably one of your daughter’s favorite things about him — that and also the fact that Mingyu even existed. “Not only does she look like you the most but she also loves you the most” you’d half-heartily complain sometimes. 

It became some sort of routine, if she fell asleep with Mingyu around, she’d most definitely have her hand in his hair. Logically and rationally you knew that Hanna wouldn't like the new haircut, but you also didn’t think that it would be that much of a big deal. What you also didn’t expect was for Mingyu to come back with the shortest hair you have ever seen on him. 

You had known Mingyu for roughly twelve years and he always kept his hair on the longer side. While the sight was a fantastic one, Hanna didn’t seem to share the same idea. 

She ran to the door excitedly the second she heard the sound of keys on the lock to greet her dad. She had the biggest smile on her face and then it just disappeared as she took in her dad’s new look. Her small features contorted and her eyes filled with tears and she ran back to you, hiding behind your legs.

Like he usually did, Mingyu kneeled to welcome the hug that always came but this time there was none. 

You wished you had recorded the whole thing, the way Hanna started to scream her lungs out because “not daddy” and Mingyu was a few seconds away from crying. 

“Hanna” you cooed “you don’t want to say hi to daddy? He missed while he was away”

She shook her head.

“Not daddy,” she said again, the new tears coming down her face.

It took you a good hour to get her to settle down and sleep. Her body still shook with sobs when you put her in bed. 

Mingyu was in the living room, in the same exact position as before, the blanket still wrapped around his head. His eyes were sort of lost until he finally seemed to notice you were back. Once again his eyes were filled with tears. 

“Babe, no, it’s fine,” you said, approaching him. 

When you were close enough he pulled you to him, hands around your waist and his head resting on your stomach. Slowly you pulled the blanket away from him and ran your hand over his hair. There wasn't a lot to hold onto, there was barely any hair in between your fingers, just a little more at the top for a quiff.

“She hates me now,” he complained.

There were these moments when it was hard to tell who was actually the 2 year old and who was the grown man.

“She doesn't, she just needs to get used to it. You're her favorite person” you assure him “She's just surprised. When you left there was hair in your head”

Mingyu groaned at your laugh.

“I just wanted to try something different”

You held his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. Mingyu rested his chin on your stomach, beautiful dark eyes looking back at you.

“Do you like it, at least?”

You bit your lips, trying to keep yourself from saying that maybe you didn’t like it as much, that your favorite hair was that middle ground between short and longer. 

“You look younger” your words were slow, a little careful.

He groaned, pretending to cry, his arms getting even tighter around you. 

“Both of you hate it”

You bent forward and placed a kiss on his nose and then his lips until his pout was replaced by a smile. 

“At least there’s a little bit to hold on to”

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[artificial-transmutations]

Your wish is my pleasure

Hi guys! The poll which story deserves a sequel came back pretty unambiguous! So, please enjoy more hunky Arab guys in the 3000 follower special: "Your wish is my pleasure"!

In case you want the first part first, here it is:

Greg looked at the lamp in his hand in disbelief. "Was that... because of what I said?"

One of the other guys, Maurice, who had been watching with his mouth open, nodded slowly. "It... seemed that way, bro! You wished for him to be gay and now Catherine is a fucking guy!"

Greg looked at James, and slowly, his disbelief turned into a smug grin that frightened James.

"Is that true, James? Are you gay now? Answer me!"

Again, James was compelled to answer, and so he said truthfully:

"Yes, master! That was your wish."

Greg turned around to the rest of the guys. "Man, can you believe this? We can, like, wish for *anything* now! Unlimited money!"

"Unlimited women!", Maurice chimed in, getting on board.

"I don't know, but what about James?"

It was Kit, formerly Catherine, who spoke for the first time since his transformation into a hunky guy. He seemed rather uneasy about the whole thing.

"Fuck James!" exclaimed Greg. "He's a real life genie now! Think of all the things we can wish for! You, too, Catherine! You've got a dick now as well, wouldn't you want unlimited pussy for it?"

Kit raised his arms.

"Oohkay, first, it's Kit. And second: Ew. I don't want pussy, just the thought alone..." He shuddered. "No, I prefer cock. Lots and lots of big, throbbing cocks."

Kit licked his lips and looked around at the others, who slowly backed away from Kit.

"God, you're really a fag now, aren't you?" Greg said, looking amused. "Okay, so pussy for the rest of us, and cock for Kit. Fine. It's my wish and nobody can say me and the guys don't like homos, right, guys?"

James perked up. There was a... choice. Greg had clearly said 'my wish', but it still sounded a lot like 'I wish' - enough for whatever power that bound James to give him a choice if he wanted to react to it. And James wanted to. Revenge was best served cold.

"And so it shall be, master!" he boomed, and felt the power surge through him once more.

"What? No! I didn't wish for anything!" Greg protested, but the other ones were quicker and just stared at Greg.

A wave of blue smoke emanated from James, the genie, and rolled over everyone, with the notable exclusion of Kit. As Greg breathed in the blue smog, his head was swimming all of a sudden and he had to close his eyes. When he opened them again, he suddenly saw his buddies in another light. He noticed things he never noticed before, like Maurice's cute nose or the way the muscles in his back rippled. Greg looked at his other friends and found that they were all handsome dudes. Kit was the cutest of them all, but that changed quickly. The temperature in the room seemed to rise and Greg, as well as his friends, one by one started pulling their shirts off, showcasing their changing bodies.

Every single one of them became even more handsome. Their chests gaining definition and toned muscles showing in the arms. Greg watched in wonder as his abs formed a six-pack and his hair styled itself into a modern, undeniably gay haircut. Every single one of them appeared to be well-groomed and body-focused now, even though they still had their individual touches.

"I... I'm hot." Greg whispered.

The other boys nodded. "Hell yes."

"And gay."

"Definitely."

Greg only noticed he was almost painfully hard from watching his buddies transform into a bunch of flaming homosexuals, when Maurice came over and groped Greg's cock through his jeans. Greg moaned and looked Maurice into the eyes, easily losing himself in the sight. Almost without him wanting to, their faces came closer to each other until their lips locked and they started making out. Greg moaned into the kiss and pressed his body against his friend.

While Greg and Maurice as well as the other ones were making out, Kit felt a little left out, but as he watched the two men, a certain feeling of arousal was creeping up on him. He looked at James, who was obviously also enjoying the show, judging by his tented underwear. That was a real man. Sure, the other guys were hot, but they were... American hot, but James was pure Arabian beef. And Kit felt bad for him, not able to participate.

Suddenly, he had an idea. It took a bit of strength to separate Greg from Maurice, but due to his new muscular frame, Kit managed.

"Hey, Greg, you're really hot that way. But you know what would be even hotter?"

Greg's cock was throbbing in his pants and had already formed a wet spot from his pre on the front. That was still more modest than what was going on in the background, where groins were gyrated against each other, and the first pair of jeans was being removed.

"No, what?" Greg moaned as Maurice continued to knead his groin.

"Look at James and how beefy he looks! Wouldn't you want this to be an all-Arabian orgy, instead?"

"Oh, God, Kit, that's such a hot idea." He looked at the lamp he was still holding in his hands.

"Genie, I wish that everyone here is a piece of Arab beef like you and that we all have some fun together, do you hear me? That includes you!"

This time, James was all too eager to grant the wish. With another "And so shall it be!", blue smoke emanated from his body and enveloped the room.

The changes were way more noticeable this time. Immediately, Greg felt his toned chest expand with each breath he took, but not receding as much as it expanded before. That way, his pecs solidified into two solid slabs of muscular meat, each easily the size of a plate. At the same time, his stomach also grew, but only as much as it needed to accommodate the new amount of muscle mass, forming a six pack and a delicious V-line.

At the same time, the skin covering this magnificent torso darkened into a healthy tan that was further visually darkened by the copious amount of body hair that also grew in, starting from his pecs and leading down his midsection, until it finally disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Meanwhile, his back broadened to accommodate his massive, muscular shoulders, and his biceps swelled up in turn. The changes rippled down his arms, making his forearms, biceps and triceps swell until he looked like a bodybuilder.

But Greg was still standing, and his legs needed attention, too. His thighs became thicker, and his calves and shins swelled in turn, making his jeans uncomfortably tight and constricting. Moaning from the ecstasy of change, he fiddled with his jeans buttons until he finally opened them. At the same time, his shoes were torn apart from the swelling feet and fell to the ground, allowing his toes to spread out in all their glory.

Once Greg had managed to peel off his constricting pants and shook off the remains of his shoes, he could see his body changing in almost full glory. The only garment still on his body was his underwear, but that was tented to the breaking point now. His cock was throbbing like mad, coating his underwear with copious amounts of pre-cum, and with each throb, the magnificent manly rod grew even bigger. It was almost as big as James' cock already and wasn't finished yet.

At the same time, the rest of his body was continuing to bulk up. His backside was expanding, with his butt cheeks bulging out and filling the behind of his boxer shorts to the breaking point as well. All over his limbs, dark and curly hair was sprouting, adding an animalistic appeal. Especially his now enormous armpits filled out with hair and sweat, adding to the quickly evolving smell of manly musk and sexual urges in the room.

When Greg looked up, he saw that the same was happening to his other friends. Their bodies were expanding in size, gaining more muscle and more body hair. Their chests were filling out, their nipples becoming hard, dark nubs in the middle of a sea of hair. Before long, the small shop was filled with a group of hairy Arabs, and their combined smell and urges. It was getting harder and harder for Greg to restrain himself. He didn't recognize any of his friends anymore, and the blue smoke was the only thing setting James apart, who was licking his lips now. Even Kit had changed again and was now one of the similar looking but not identical Arabs in the room. His cock throbbed and Greg felt the testosterone surging in him. Fuck this. He *needed* to breed!

He growled and ripped off the underwear, and his cock finally sprang free, bouncing a little before resting, proud and hard, pointing up at the ceiling. It was the biggest and thickest cock Greg had seen in his life, and his balls, swinging below were heavy weight of their own. Still, in this room, the massive tool was about average. Everyone was more than well-endowed, and Greg couldn't wait to sink his cock into one of the beefy asses available or feel one of his friends' rods up his own. The situation grew tenser by the second, and he could already see one of the men make out with James, the genie. That must be Kit! Greg thought and smiled. He'd always been a little slutty.

Greg was getting impatient, too, though, and the lust and testosterone inside of him was making him lose his mind. He grabbed the nearest Arab and bent him over, exposing a deliciously hairy hole that was just begging to be bred. Greg didn't hold back and immediately plunged his rock hard member into the man, not caring which one of his former friends it was.

Before long, the room was filled with animalistic grunts and moans from men unhinged. Cocks were shoved up asses, and hands were jerking off the men who were lucky enough to be taken. It didn't take long for the first load of cum to spurt onto the carpet, followed by the next and the next. Soon, the air was thick with the smell of Arabian sex, and the sounds of pleasure.

As he thrust into the tight ass he had claimed, Greg couldn't remember a time when he was more aroused. The ass around his cock felt like it was made to be bred by him, and the sound of balls slapping against butt was the most satisfying thing he ever heard. He didn't know if the guy was still there mentally or not, but it didn't matter. He had an ass, and Greg had a cock, and that was all there was.

The orgy continued until the morning sun rose above the antiquity shop. Kit was exhausted as he looked around. It wouldn't be long until his grandmother came in, and probably would die from a heart attack. Valuable vases were shattered by the masculine bodies slammed against them, and furniture broken.

James looked spent, too, but content, when Kit cleared his throat.

"Honey, could you do something about this mess?"

James looked over to his lover and smiled as he snapped his finger.

"Of course, my dear. Your wish is my pleasure."

James didn't turn anyone back, of course. Wish is wish, after all. Every single one of them was now a constantly horny Arab for life. It wasn't a bad life, though, especially for Kit. Having a genie for a boyfriend certainly had its perks.

Thank you so much again! I'm already looking forward to the next special!

Oh, and since some of you asked: Of course, I will only write one sequel, this one here. However, seeing how popular the second place was, I might write another story that is suspiciously similar and in the spirit of "Calling the plumber", too ;-).

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

That's My Man

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~500

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Spencer gets a haircut and you have a most pleasant reaction to it.

Square Filled: holidays (2023) for @cmbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s been an entire month since you’ve seen your boyfriend but he’s back now. He spent Christmas and New Years with his mother back in Las Vegas while you stayed with your family in Virginia. You two are still so new that you haven’t had the chance to meet his family, and you weren't going to let your first meeting be the holidays.

If and when you’re going to do it, you want to do it right.

While the holidays might be over, the snow is still coming down in waves, making this a white winter. Snow is probably your favorite kind of weather because you get to create angels and snowmen and forts and anything else you want. You want to do that and go ice skating with Spencer tomorrow when the sun is out but for right now, you’re going to have a movie marathon.

He’s staying over for the entire weekend and you can’t be more excited than you are right now.

“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice comes from the front hallway. The door opens to face a solid wall fifteen feet from the door. To the left is the kitchen and to the right is the living room. “I’m here!”

You gave him a key pretty early on because you already knew he was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It’s one of those things where you just know. You love him so much and you don’t want to waste any time with him.

“In here!” you call from the right. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the hook in front of him before closing and locking the door. He walks into the living room and you turn to greet him when a confused frown sits on your face. “Why are you wearing a beanie?”

Spencer hates hats. He doesn’t like the feel of them or how he looks in them. Why is he wearing a beanie? He hasn’t all winter.

“I don’t know. I liked how it looked on me.”

“Mmhmm.” You get up and walk over to him. “Now what’s the real reason?” He looks shy as if he’s embarrassed to tell you. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Just… don’t laugh, okay?”

“Okay.”

He takes off his beanie and your jaw practically drops to the floor. He messes with his hair to make it look good but you’re fixed on that the fact that he got a haircut. He doesn't have long curly hair anymore. It’s short and slightly spiked. There are longer pieces in the front but he’s cut it all off.

God fucking damn. He looks so goddamn fine.

“Please say something,” he sighs, unable to take the silence anymore.

“Oh, my God.” He lowers his head knowing you must hate it. “Look at my man!” He snaps his head up as a slight blush creeps up his neck. “Damn, you look so good! Is that Spencer Reid? My gorgeous man?”

“Okay, stop,” he smiles, blushing profusely. You jump into his arms and kiss his face all over, and he tips his head back and laughs. “Okay, okay, okay!”

You pull away with a loving smile and keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You look very handsome.”

“Thank you,” he smiles.

Choosing you has got to be the best thing he could have ever done for himself.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 2 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

chapter 1 / chapter 3

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Your suit was still immaculate thanks to your incessant fiddling, adjusting, and pruning. If not for the gel wearing out in your hair and the sweat beading your brow, the illusion was almost believable. Your rings clinked against the sink's enamel, your silver accents glinting in the fluorescent lighting, while a person did their business in the stall behind you. You sighed and washed your hands.

Damn, the soap was nice. They'd really gone all out for the reception, the fall theme extending even to the cinnamon spice soap bars.

Who were you even trying to fool? You were hiding in the bathroom. You'd arrived on the scene of the reception party in relatively high spirits, convinced all was fine and dandy, that Gretchen was looking to make amends in this small way. But you'd been wrong.

The invitation hadn't been a fluke. There hadn't been some mistake, because on the little plaque where your name was scrawled in neat cursive sat another right next to it. On the round table where you'd be sitting, there would be Regina George directly to your left. On your other side would be Shane Oman. Across from you, Damian and Janis.

You stepped out of the bathroom, a lump still firmly lodged in your throat but resolve found. You'd brave it, be an adult about it. The breakup had been perfectly amicable, for the most part anyway, so there was no reason for you to be so wound up.

"The maid of honour is a major bitch." Amanda sidled up to you as you walked towards your table. She directed you to the bar by the arm.

"She won't let us switch?" You asked, dismayed but not surprised.

"She won't even let you move to the spare table," Amanda said indignantly. "The whole time, I swear, she was lookin' me up and down all judgy."

"Ugh," You groaned. "Can she get your strongest drink?" You motioned for the bartender. The man nodded with a smile, seeming relieved to be rescued from the old lady chatting him up. He was a good-looking fella, tattoo sleeves and a military haircut.

"Anything for you?" He asked you, eyes lingering on Amanda shyly. Amanda leered at him unabashedly, batting her eyelashes while he made her drink.

"Just a coke." You'd been sober for a good couple of years now, free of all substances. You'd had a nasty relapse in college, a disgraceful return to party drugs and obscene amounts of alcohol, but you'd been able to find your footing since. Largely due to Amanda's intervention.

"You gonna be alright?" Amanda asked, for now deciding not to make a move on the bartender. You knew she was biding her time, establishing tension before she struck. She picked up men like a shark.

"Sure, yeah. It's gonna be okay. It's just, y'know, my ex. And her ex. And her nemesis and that nemesis' best friend. All good."

Amanda eyed you warily. You sipped at your coke through a straw. She, too, took a large gulp.

By the time the bride and the groom made their entrance, you were sitting in your spot, desperately trying not to make eye contact with the other occupants of the table. Shane was squirming on your right, fiddling with what seemed to be an engagement ring. Janis and Damian, sitting across from you, didn't seem to have changed much, except obviously grown up.

Janis was still unapologetically goth, though seemingly turned more toward clean, angular lines rather than messy, smudged blacks. She had on a dress and a shawl, beaded bangles and silver jewellery covering her wrists. She'd gotten more piercings since you last saw her. Angel bites on her upper lip, a bridge between her eyes, and stretched ear lobes. There were some bold tattoos as well, such as a rose crawling up her neck and the head of a snake on the back of her hand, extending up her arm.

Damian was in a cute, velvety green suit. His shirt, white with light green fleur de lis patterns, had ruffles going down the buttons. The length of its sleeves also surpassed that of the suit's, which made the whole look seem kind of piratey. His natural hair, a poofy afro, the bulky red-tinted glasses, and the pointy boots he had on gave off a bohemian seventies disco star vibe. He had a very specific aesthetic and you couldn't help but be impressed.

The seat on your left was pointedly lacking a person. Only the plaque was there along with its elegant scrawl. You crossed your legs and threaded your fingers together, bracing for the moment somebody said something to you. Or you were forced to do it yourself.

"So..." There it comes. Surprisingly it was Shane, of all people. "You and Regina."

"Huh?" You made a sound.

"I mean, you're here together, right? That's what I heard." He scratched at his neck, seeming nervous. All the confidence and obnoxious self-assurance seemed to have melted off of him.

"No, you- what? Where'd you hear that?"

"Just some nasty gossip. Don't worry about it. Aaron and I know what it's like." He smiled supportively but somewhere in the crevices of his cheeks, it seemed sad. "Have you been out for long?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. Shane and Aaron? Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

"Um, pretty much since high school. To be fair, I didn't tell a lot of people back then. You know how Northshore was." He nodded along solemnly. "But in college I sort of bit the bullet."

"That's really brave. Aaron and I haven't been out for long, only since the new law passed." He still seemed cautious and shy, but talking about Aaron clearly made him happy.

"When did you two get together?"

As Shane began to tell the tale, you slowly began to relax. Maybe Regina wouldn't even show up. If you and Gretchen were estranged, Regina and she were even more so. Regina had never given you details, but you did know Gretchen had been heavily involved in your shitty junior year. They'd had an explosive, very public falling-out that'd led to a whole lot of drama.

By that point, you'd sort of checked out of high school as well as your relationship with Regina, so you'd paid very little attention.

"Oh, here she comes," Shane pointed behind you, cutting off his own story. You whirled around, back crackling as you twisted your spine.

Regina George, in the flesh. Your mouth watered, pupils dilated, and there was no way you could've suppressed your reaction. Her eyes were locked on yours, a predatory glint in her eye as she strutted towards your table.

You almost didn't hear Damian's whistle or Janis' stunned laugh, but as Regina shifted the white fur stole she had to reveal her shoulders and chest, you went wholly deaf to all but the clack of her heels.

She had on a baby pink bodycon dress with a slit sinfully high up on her thigh, satin hugging her hips sensually. She had on white high heels with thin straps at the ankle and fur at the tops of her toes.

Her makeup was natural, with subtle browns and blacks, except for the prominent blush she'd picked. Her hair was a warmer blonde than before, complimenting her tanned skin. She had on golden jewellery, a familiar golden necklace resting on the dip of her clavicles like a taunt.

She kept on advancing towards the table. You could do little else but stare, slack-jawed at the visage of her. Other people were staring too, you could tell. You could only imagine what Gretchen was doing with her face at the moment, perhaps scowling like a pug or maybe looking like she was about to cry. Regina was but a guest and yet...

Regina was never just Regina. You knew that better than anyone. No matter how she dressed, behaved, or what her priorities were, she was an innate presence that influenced those around her. Gretchen inviting her to this wedding was essentially like shooting herself in the foot.

Regina didn't have to try to snatch the attention of the room, but when she did, there was no competition. And Regina had gone all out. You could tell by the movements of her hands, the way her lashes fluttered, and how her mouth parted just a little. It was obvious, at least to you, that Regina was doing what she did best: Revenge.

"Hi, baby," She cooed down at you. You took a moment to react, surprised by how she was suddenly there, right in front of you.

Her hands reached for you, long acrylics brushing against your collar, then your neck, then the back of your neck and in your hair. Her thumbs directed your head to tilt up. She pulled you close as she leaned down and then—peach lipgloss, glittery eyeshadow, saccharine perfume—your skin tingled where she touched you, sparks going off behind your eyelids as they fell closed, bliss pouring out of your pores as you became filled with it.

You kissed her back, took hold of her hips and pulled her to stand between your legs. Fuck, this was bad. But, fuck, it felt good to kiss her again.

Distantly, like someone shouting into the water in which you were submerged, you realized that this was perhaps the worst way, place, and time you could've reunited with Regina.

Even so, you kissed deeper, licking into her mouth until she made a sound you'd so missed all these years. Just as you began debating the pros and cons of laying her down on the table right there in the open, Shane tugged hard on your shoulder.

"What?" You grumbled, turning to him with a glare already in place.

He was red-faced, and frazzled, but had on a wide grin. "Get it, girl, but calm down. The mother of the bride looks like she's about to implode." He inclined his head towards the long table where all the important people sat. The mother of the bride did indeed look to be on the precipice of a furious blow-out.

"Okay," You swallowed, sense slowly coming back to you.

"Ugh, you're such a party pooper, Shane." Regina pulled away, leaving your palms achingly empty. She didn't go far though. She sat down on her chair before reaching into her white Valentino bag and pulling out some napkins. Then, she leaned in again.

Your eyes fluttered closed and lips puckered. Regina laughed.

"Silly, you have gloss all over your face."

"Oh," Your eyes opened. Gosh, that was embarrassing.

Regina wiped your mouth. Then, she pulled out a compact mirror and fixed her own lips. You watched her do all this. She and Shane started chatting. Apparently, they'd been in somewhat regular contact.

You'd just kissed Regina George. After, what, eight or nine years? In front of the whole goddamn venue. In front of Gretchen, in front of Gretchen's family, in front of basically your entire year from high school.

You got up. "Oh, where are you going?" Shane asked, all innocent. You hoped you didn't look as panicked as you felt. He didn't seem to think anything was wrong. You glanced at Regina.

Fuck. She totally knew. Obviously, she knew you. She could read you like a book.

"Smoke. Be back in a few." You fled.

"I'm coming too," Janis said.

Notes: Sorry for the long break everybody! I graduated and had a party for that! Went on a little trip to the countryside with friends! And now, at last, I'm back at my desk and ready to churn out some long overdue chapters.

Taglist posted separately! Comment on that post to get on it if you want!

[kakushino]

First... or Fourth?

Uzui Tengen x AFAB! Reader

You're returning from a years-long undercover mission, which forced you to leave your new husband at the time, Tengen. However, there is a surprise waiting for you...

Tags: angst, betrayal, mild gore, self-worth issues, body worship, emotional smut, dom-leaning bottom reader Word count: 7,9k

Masterlist | Part 2

Just a few more miles, just a few more…

You were on your way back from an undercover mission - one that had been given as a punishment for your actions ‘against’ your Clan. It took years to complete, and you will never be the same again. But, you were looking forward to seeing the one person who could heal your soul. 

Uzui Tengen.

Your husband.

One you had to leave nearly immediately after marrying. 

He had been waiting for you for years all alone, or at least you hoped he had been waiting for you. You promised each other to always come back, alive and intact. 

Your mind wandered. Would he be the same height, or taller? Did he keep his hair short? Did he still wear the gold arm braces? Did he still live in the mansion he bought for the two of you? Was he alive? Was he waiting for you? Did he- 

No. You pushed the feelings of doubt aside. Tengen would be waiting for you in your estate. He would give you that smile you loved so much, welcome you home. You would both cry in happiness. Oh, how you ached to be in his arms again. You two would cuddle for a whole day and a half, content to bask in each other. 

But first, you needed to get presentable. The old inn that used to be in a nearby town got replaced with a newer one. At this time, any would do, as long as you could bathe, eat, sleep, and buy new clothes, not necessarily in that order. 

The old set of clothes you put aside before your mission was too big on your much thinner frame. You stared at yourself in a mirror in the lobby on your way to shop. Maybe a haircut was in order too, but you could handle that yourself with a trusty kunai.

You tried not to dwell on your experiences from the past few years lest you not sleep that night. A makeover would do well for you.

The town wasn’t big, and finding the seamstress took no time at all. One look at your figure had the old woman bringing out three pre-made kimono sets. “I’m sorry dear. I don’t think there are any others that would fit you,” she told you. 

You sighed quietly. That was fine. You could always order some later. For now, one would do. Of the three, only one seemed to be presentable for your flashy husband. “The yellow one please.” Though the pattern was very simple - vertical stripes - the color was very vibrant and eye-catching. The seamstress gave you a bright red obi, perhaps understanding your desire for more color.

Walking out of the shop, you felt like a new person. It was near sunset, time passed quickly while you were gossiping with the old woman. She’d given you the much desired haircut as well, dry and choppy hair strands falling like autumn leaves.

You would see your love tomorrow. Your heart swelled with affection. Butterflies took up space in your stomach. 

You couldn’t wait.

Something was wrong. Something was so, so wrong. There, in front of you. Your husband - was he? - with three women - very busty women - smiling at them with your smile, the special one, the one you cherished so much. 

What’s going on?

“Tengen?” you breathed out with a barely-there high pitched whine. His eyes - beautiful, loving, staring at those women - snapped in your direction. Of course he heard. He’d always had the best hearing of all people you knew- used to know.

He looked like he was seeing a ghost, a phantom of the past. Your heart was clogging up your throat, threatening to be thrown up. You keened in pain. Tengen with three beautiful busty women… Has he not waited? Does he not love me anymore?

“[Name]?” you imagined he said it out loud, but he might have only mouthed it. You were too far apart. You with your plain kimono, hair much shorter, standing alone on a dusty road and him with his flamboyance and his three women. 

You wanted to run, you wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to scratch him, scar him, you wanted to cause a scene, dig a grave and lay in it. A war went on inside you - your brain and your heart in a battle to the death, a last stand. Was this how it felt to have your heart ripped out? To have your mind unravel? Every day you thought of Tengen - Tengen, Tengen, Tengen - of the moments spent together under blooming sakuras, of the whispered promises to break away and start over, to ditch the miserable life of a shinobi-

In a flash, he stood scarcely a foot from you. The Uzui Tengen of your memories used to be slightly shorter, his hair was longer now, and he appeared even stronger than before, flashier than ever, if possible. He glowed with the happiness of a good life, a happy life. (Happy wife, happy life, he used to say. How true was it now?) The expression he wore was one of disbelief, his huge hands outstretched as if to touch you, slap your wrist, tear out your heart, crush your trachea, break you-

“Lord Tengen, who is this?” 

The moment was broken. You flinched and took a quick step back, skimming the figures of the three women. Kunoichi, without a doubt.  

A horrible feeling crawled up your spine, one you tried to push back because he wouldn’t… would he? You promised each other to break away from the system, to deny everything you were taught and live a good life together. 

Has he gone back to shinobi life? Gone back on the promises? Taken more wives? Taken other wives?

Your husband ignored the inquiry, and instead whispered, “I thought you died,” in a horrified whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief, too shiny to be normal, as if he were holding back tears. “I thought you were dead.” A strangled sound left his throat and he grabbed your wrists, pulling you into a rough embrace. Heart now falling back to its rightful place in relief, you hugged your man back. 

His perfume had changed but the natural musk underneath stayed the same, and you clung to that faint comfort, the familiarity. You clung to his sturdy frame, how he still towered over you, how safe you felt in his arms for the precious moment. You felt warm for the first time in years. Tears gathered at your lashes, and fell, and soaked through his clothing, the clothing that smelled like him and home. 

“Lord Tengen?” 

The moment broke again, and this time you refused to ignore the elephant on the road behind Tengen. Or rather, the three elephants. You took one, two, three stumbling steps back.

“Who are these women, Tengen?” you asked, voice thick and trembling. The wild emotional ride you were on was taking its toll on you. Your eyes flitted between him and the three.

Tengen’s smile was a bit wobbly, something you had never seen in your life. Was he that surprised to see you? Or did he know you wouldn’t like hearing what he would tell you?  Who are these women and why are they with my husband?

“[Name]-” his voice broke, he cleared his throat. “[Name], these are my wives - Suma, Hinatsuru, and Makio.”

And with just one word - wives wives WIVES -  he shattered your heart. You vaguely heard him introduce you with just your name. 

“Forever? You promise?”

“I promise. Just me and you against the world, precious.”

It was while you were walking with all four of them to spend the night that your mind started truly racing.

Your mother used to say nothing hurts more than being hurt by the person you never thought would hurt you. You used to scoff and disregard her wisdom. You were re-evaluating your stance on that.

Fight or flight response warred inside you as you were led to your estate, the estate Tengen bought to share with you as his wife, not with- 

Why was he acting as if nothing about this situation was wrong? As if he hadn’t made the careful foundation of your sanity crumble quicker than a house of cards in the breeze?

You stopped right inside the property. You needed to gain control over yourself. You shoved your feelings into your stomach, acid filling your mouth. Your belly ached, from hunger and from stress. You felt as if you were reaching the edge of the void - the void being insanity. One step and you would plunge, spiral downward with no sight of the end.

“Tengen?” you murmured, “Can I talk to you alone, please?” You refused to look anywhere but him, refused to look for what changed and what remained of your- his- their estate.

Throughout the walk to their home, he kept looking at you - for you; tilting his head - listening to your heartbeat. Now he looked torn, glancing at the opened entrance. In the end, he nodded, closed the door and you both stood there, staring at each other.

In the back of your mind, you realized the reason behind his actions, you compartmentalized and understood, but you wanted to hear it, you wanted to know- “Why?”

The question hung in the air like a demented ornament to a festival lantern, except it was set on fire- everything was on fire-

“Precious-” Your heart throbbed in your chest at the nickname. “- please, you were gone.” His voice broke into a low whine and it ached to hear him in such distress. Suddenly, it was as if everything started spilling out. “I never thought it would take that long- I waited and waited and fucking waited and I got no word, no letter, no nothing- I thought- I thought-” 

His breath came out in pants as he stepped closer, his arms reaching for you, gripping your shoulders. 

“I thought you didn’t-” A high pitched keen left him, unable to say it for the second time that day, the very thought making his heart ache. It brought tears to your eyes as you choked down a sob. “Please-” 

Tengen fell to his knees in front of you and the sight of his desperation destroyed what little defences you had. By instinct, you hugged him to your chest, his height allowing him to rest his head against your breast, listening to your heart beat steadily. You started crying, your sobs intertwining with his panting. “Shhh, I’m here, I'm right here, baby…” It wasn’t long before his own choked sobs joined the symphony of grief and emotional release. “I’m here, I’m fine, we’re fine, we’re alive and- and-”

“I thought I lost you, precious. Each day was torture, you were my missing piece, you are my missing piece. Thank you - thank you for returning- for coming back to me,” he choked out thickly. “Oh lord, what have I done? You fought for your life every day and I- I fucking married Suma, Hina and Makio. Fuck-” 

You were weak to his words, to his warmth and his scent. You were weak to the way he hugged you, the way he gasped for breath and the way his tears made your yukata wet.

“You deserve better - a better husband. You deserve someone who would wait for you, not me- I- I don’t deserve you anymore; but fucking hell will I try again. Please, let me try again. I will spend the rest of my life on my knees in front of you if you just give me just this one chance-” Tengen nearly wailed into your chest, his voice trembling, devastated, as if a dam broke down and the flood of his emotions couldn’t be stopped, decimating barriers and safety measures against such a catastrophe. More tears soaked your yukata, his hands grasping at your clothes desperately, a drowning person clawing for air.

And you weren’t immune.

You cried right along with him, rocking you both back and forth underneath the slowly setting sun, the warm golden hue washing over you in a stark contrast to the turmoil between, around and inside of you two. 

As you reeled from the onslaught of pent-up emotions, you felt his chest heaving quicker and quicker, rapidly getting into the unhealthy pace, so familiar to you by now - he was hyperventilating. 

“Tengen, baby, look at me-” you rasped out, trying to get him to let go of his impossibly tight grip on you. You heard the sound of fabric tearing. “Baby, c’mon, look. at. me.” 

He wasn’t easing his strength. Fuck. 

You tugged at his ponytail, gently, then rougher, then as harsh as you dared, his headband slipping askew from it. “Tengen! Let go!”

He gasped for air, staring at you as if you were a saint or an angel stepped down from Heaven and a death god about to pull him to Hell all at once. His face was flushed, lashes dewy, cheeks puffy from crying. It was the most terrified, the most pathetic you've ever seen him.

But was he really pathetic? You were his wife, who left on a mission, who kept away for years and years, who hadn’t written a letter to him once, who wasn't with him when his last brother died, who just returned and wrecked his new life like a typhoon.

"Tengen, breathe."

Perhaps it was you who did not deserve to come back, to disrupt his new relationships and drive a wedge into a scabbed-over wound, making it bleed all over again. 

More of your tears fell as you attempted to smile, though it came out more like a grimace most likely. "Breathe slowly, mkay? I'm here. You can hear my heartbeat, can’t you? Match my breathing. Can you do that for me?"

His breathing gradually deepened and his eyes lost the hazy look.

"I'm Uzui [Name], your wife, we're at the house you bought with your money when we were fourteen. It's Friday, sundown. Are you with me, Tengen?" you asked softly.

Tengen blinked a few times, looking up at you. “[Name]...” Your hand was still clutching his hair tightly, the slight pain grounding him further. He wanted to say Please baby, take me back, hug me, kiss me, fuck me- “You can let go now,” he said instead. The yearning he felt for you was quickly buried underneath a thick blanket of shinobi training, analyzing the situation.

“Sorry.” As if burned, you quickly released him. 

You stared at each other for a long moment in silence, perhaps realizing the complexity of the situation you were in. You wanted to be back with him, and he wanted to be back with you, but you both perceived his new wives as a sort of betrayal, whether by infidelity or values you stood by.

For the first time, Tengen looked at you, really looked.

There were dark eye bags underneath your puffy eyes, betraying your lack of sleep, deep set stress lines marred your pretty face. There was a new scar at the corner of your lips, so small it almost went unnoticed. Your hair was much shorter than it used to be, but the disheveled state was caused by the wind, not necessarily by neglect. Though, he could pick up some not quite right strands, cut by an amateur hand. Would you let him fix it? Would you even let him get close with something sharp? Would you trust him? What had happened to you?

You were thinner, the colorful yukata hiding your figure only little to his observant eyes. He stared, analyzed and wondered - what else is that plain cotton yukata hiding?

What really went down in that God-forsaken mission?

You giggled nervously, as Tengen took his time to unwrap your clothes like a present. He had a joyful grin on his face, just as nervous yet better at hiding it. 

“Hey, hey, it’s not fair that only I am naked, you know?” Using a grappling move he himself taught you, you quickly reversed your positions, him laying down on the futon and you straddling his hips. He gave you a wide-eyed look, face flushed at your display of skill. His hands cradled your hips, his fingerless gloves scratching your skin slightly.

You gave him a quick peck on his lips and then focused on unraveling his top. As flashy as always, it was a complicated thing, making you grow frustrated quickly. With a growl, you reached into his thigh holster and took out a kunai, slashing his shirt open. 

“Hey! That’s my favorite!” he protested with a pout, not really mad. You were already kissing your way down his exposed chest, playfully biting at his nipple. His breath hitched.

“It was your favorite. I’m your new favorite now,” you grinned in triumph as he rolled his eyes, giving you a gentle slap on your ass. The material of his gloves gave you a slightly burning feeling as he caressed the quickly reddening spot.

You sat up in his lap and took his left hand in yours, quickly stripping him of his glove. His right hand was bare before you knew it, but something drew your attention. 

Tengen had a beauty mark near the pulse point. Guided by instinct or fate, your lips pressed against it, his heartbeat quickening beneath them. You made eye contact. His magenta eyes could have hearts in them; such a lovestruck look was novel on him. It warmed you from the inside that he let you so close to his vulnerable point - his wrist so breakable; his hand would have been useless if you just twisted with the right amount of pressure; if you decided to bite him and make him bleed out.

It was getting too serious for you, too deep. The entire moment was already making you feel too vulnerable, it being your first time. To break the moment, one of your hands went to his side to tickle him. Tengen noticed, and was quicker.

Both of you dissolved into a gasping laughing pair of teenagers, for once feeling your age.

The yukata he gave you was silk. Your calloused hands hadn’t felt such a material for a long time - years, in fact. The fabric had a pattern of a turtle-shell in golden hues of autumn intertwined with faded green and red details. You recognized it faintly, but couldn’t place where you saw it. 

Slipping it on felt like Heaven, like laying down into fluffy clouds if you could reach them - and you were so tired, you wanted to lay down in them. Yet you couldn’t, it was just the morning and your stomach grumbled in hunger, reminding you the last time you ate was yesterday morning.

The three new- other wives had left early in the morning. You heard their teary good-byes to Tengen from your room’s opened window, the mission they were being sent on apparently dangerous. Promises to write letters were exchanged, the women well-versed in what Tengen expected of them for such a task.

Return to me alive, in one piece. If your life is at risk, abandon the mission and come back home.

Was your disappearance the reason he cared for each as such?

You pondered on things past, present and future as you crept into the kitchen. Thankfully, every room remained as it used to be. The room you slept in was actually supposed to be your own lounge room, where Tengen would not enter, where you could keep your privacy and spend time alone. He had his own, or at least used to have one. With three other occupants, it was hard to guess if he kept it or gave it away to one of them.

There was a breakfast ready for you already, a lone spread for one at the head of the table. You stared at it and tried to imagine how it would look with all of them. Did Tengen sit at the head or did he sit in between his wives? Did they all sit differently each time? 

Could you handle being the fourth wife?

You didn’t know. The idea seemed unfathomable yesterday. 

You hid in your room the whole day after eating. The sun was setting slowly, creating a warm hue in your little burrow.

The dream you had had during the night brought a bone-deep ache for what was - what used to be. You felt exhausted from all the thinking; you were almost certain you could accept the new-wives situation, but it entirely depended on their attitude and personalities as well as Tengen’s approach to this whole scenario.

A knock interrupted the sound of silence you slowly came to enjoy that day. “[Name]?” came Tengen’s muffled voice. “Are you there?”

For a moment, you were tempted to remain silent, though you knew he knew you were in there. He could hear your hitched breath when he knocked, your heart beating, your clothes rustling.

In the end, you resisted and said, “Come in.” 

He opened the sliding door slowly, revealing his hunched over frame. It was surprising to see the normally confident man in such disposition, even despite the chaos of the past twenty four hours.

Tengen stood at the threshold of your space, not really looking at you, instead staring at your collarbone, which stood out sharper than it used to. “May I-?” He still asked for permission to enter. Your heart swelled with affection, nearly cracking in half from the overwhelming strength of your feelings.

“You may come in, yes,” you told him, sitting up on the futon you laid on before he came. “What brings you here?”

He took a hesitant step forward, then another and another until he knelt at your side a respectful distance away from you. “I want to- no, I need to know, what has happened to you?”

You freeze, breath stuttering at his question. Your hands clutched at the blanket covering your legs.

Tengen knew he hit a sensitive spot and he didn’t want to press you further but this was a matter of utmost importance to him - he had to know what happened to you so he could help you, fix the ache and make it right. It was for both - for you and for him.

“Show me, precious, please,” he whispered hoarsely. “Show me what’s hiding under your shield, under that yukata, please…” His voice broke as he bowed his head humbly.

Your head buzzed with thoughts, mental barriers rising and crumbling at the speed of light, incessant battle between hope and desolation. In the end, all you could do was empty your head, shove your emotions down to your stomach and show him all of yourself - let him be the judge and executioner of your future.

You slowly got up to your knees and loosened your obi with the resignation of a soldier walking to frontlines.

The yukata he gave you was silk. For the first time in a long time, sliding a cloth off your body didn’t send fire down your nerves from the pain. Inch by inch, familiar and unfamiliar parts of you were revealed to his intense stare.

You knew what he saw. Hideous scars and disfigured flesh. And compared to his new wives? You were nothing. It was a harsh reminder of the chasm of worth between you and the three.

The yukata slipped all the way down and you had the urge to cover yourself again.

“Oh, precious…”

Tengen’s voice sounded muffled to you as you focused on a wall decoration behind his form, your mind blocking out its stressor. There was a kakejiku, a hanging scroll, with a blood-red cherry tree and black flower petals. It sparked a memory deep in your mind, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. There were exactly eight roots but only one branch, and the inversion of the usual colors was so strange.

“-ious? Precious, please answer me-” 

You snapped out of it and exhaled, the sound closer to a death rattle than a breath. “What-?”

He was much closer than before, looking you in the eyes rather than staring at your body. His hands were outstretched as if he wanted to hold you but he wasn’t touching you. 

Your focus snapped back like a badly tied rope under pressure. Body. Scars. Mission. Tengen.

Tengen, Tengen, Tengen.

“Precious, please, tell me-”

The half-feral look in his eyes broke you, cracked you open. “I was stretched too thin… I didn’t know what-” You stopped yourself before you started spilling everything. Despite it being over, you couldn’t disclose what exactly happened, it was too ingrained inside of you - a kunoichi from birth. “I was losing my sight of the end… I wished for it to end, I wished to go home, to you.” 

“You’re home, I’m here. Please, let me in, precious. Please.”

“... I was losing my mind,” the admission was hushed. Even the nature outside seemed to quieten down for you. “I thought of ending it.”

‘-of ending myself’ went unspoken, but Tengen heard it, loud and clear. His heart thundered in his chest, drowning out all else than your breathing, your heartbeat.

“Can I touch you?”

You turned to him, staring at his hands as if they were knives. 

“Can I touch just your hands then?” The tremor of his voice betrayed the way he felt. He offered his own to you, palms up and relaxed, as if giving an offering to something divine, way more than you yourself were. “Please.”

Hesitantly, and oh so slowly, you reached out to him. You hovered your hands above his for a moment, watching to see if he would grab you. When he didn’t, you made contact. His body seemed to run much hotter than before, warming your cold skin. There were more calluses - different ones than before.

The feeling of his warm palms against yours sent shivers down your spine. You looked him in the eyes, both of you nearly holding your breath as the moment lingered.

His hands - so huge compared to yours - slid up your arms oh so slowly. His left hand encountered a jagged piece of flesh first. He froze. Taking a deep breath, Tengen shuffled to your right side. On the back of your shoulder reaching halfway down your arm was a burn scar, ugly and twisted, you knew. Phantom pain throbbed in the skin.

He leaned down. A feather light kiss was placed upon the start of the scar, then another an inch above it, his hot breath and soft lips making it feel better. There was nothing else you could focus on other than his gentle kisses being laid all over the rough flesh.

Every touch of his lips against your skin felt like absolution, like validation, like worship. But that couldn't be right - you deserved no absolution, no worship. You deserved to rot, you should have never come here, to him. You should have realized he'd have a life already, a new wife or three and- and-

His searing hot palms trailed over your shoulder blades, gentle, almost not there. You glanced over your shoulder; he’d closed his eyes, perhaps respecting your privacy despite touching you so intimately, reaching deep into the hurt of your body and soul, soothing you.

His touch brushed down your back, large palms encompassing the entirety of it as he went down, over your panties to-

His breath hitched. Your heart seemed to stop. His thumbs reached the first scar of your thighs, the first of many many many carved into your thighs and calves, each one deliberate, each as ugly as the previous, meant to hurt and humiliate. These were not battle scars. Only one thing could cause this.

You could still hear the cracks, loud like thunder and burning furrows into your skin, tearing the flesh asunder.

And then there was a kiss.

Your thighs quivered and gave out, arms colliding harshly with the ground, a shock of pain that made you cry out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. 

"[Name]!"

You fell over onto your forearms, cradling your head in your hands as you started to sob. The tatami dug into your skin, distracting you from the emotional turmoil. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine- This. Is. Nothing.” You panted and shivered but started to calm down bit by bit. 

Two warm hands were touching your hips lightly, a reassuring skin contact, not moving, just there.

“I’m fine now,” you breathed out shakily.

The hands trembled and the next kiss on your thigh was wet. His hot breath washed over your skin. You were suddenly too sensitive. 

His lips made contact with each scar, again and again he kissed away the memories and the pain. 

Wet droplets fell onto your calves, one by one, soothing over your heated skin. The sensation made your tears come faster, staining the tatami floors as you shook all over.

You could not believe how he made you feel so loved, cherished, with such a simple gesture as kissing your scars. Tengen, your husband, your one and only, the reason you came out of that mission alive and with your limbs intact.

“Pl-please-” You didn’t know what you were begging for but he gave it to you either way. His lips were more trailing over the skin than kissing by then, his tongue darting out to lick at the tears he left on your calves.

His palms moved up your body gently once he’d kissed the bone-deep ache away, rough palms so soft over your bottom, spine, shoulder blades - the burn scar - and only then did you notice he knelt at your side. You were still hunched over, blind to everything but your sense of touch and hearing his voice.

Tengen whispered, “Precious… Get up- for me? Please.”

Your limbs were shaky like a newborn foal as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position. Eyes teary, only a Tengen-shaped blob was clear to you. “‘m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You heard more than saw him kneel in front of you, his fingers gentle as he wiped away your tears. “Never apologize.” 

His own face was slightly puffy from crying, and wasn’t that an unflashy sight? The great shinobi Tengen, kneeling over your nearly naked form, jaw clenched, crying nearly as much as you, a wild look in his eyes, feral with grief.

You saw that look in his eyes once before, when his brothers…

His hands trembled when he cradled your cheeks, his breath shaky when he kissed your forehead. “You’re so brave, so strong… I’m glad you’re back, that you’re here, with me. I now realize this, before you came back… my world was in black and white. When I saw you on the street yesterday, it was as if you were the only thing in color. You brought color back into my life,” he admitted in a choked whisper. “I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Rain started to pelt the roof outside the room, distant thunder echoing faintly.

“I’ll always love you, scars and all. This is my promise, now and forever, precious, til death do us part.”

Your thoughts tangled in messy knots, your brain telling you one thing and Tengen telling you the other. You had no chance to even begin searching for the start or the end of the whole disarray that was your mindscape.

A long exhale from the man in front of you drew your attention. His gentle palms continued their journey down your body, caressing down your neck, chest, torso… 

Tengen stopped- stopped moving his hands, stopped breathing. Smooth flesh caught his notice, way too smooth. Wild eyes looked down. Bright red and shiny, half torn, half precise cut scar spanning the length of your stomach. His fingertips traced it softly, yet it still sent shockwaves of pain down your nerves. 

You flinched-

He made a sound of distress. 

- your mind bringing forth the memory before you could focus on anything else.

You realized what you had to do in that second. It couldn’t stay inside.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Your hand fumbled with the only kunai you kept poison-free and pointed it to the sluggishly bleeding wound, panting heavily. “It’s okay, it’s okay, [Name]. Your hands are the steadiest of the family. You skinned fugu fish for Tengen regularly. This is nothing.”

This is nothing.

The tip of the knife was buried deep underneath the skin.

This is nothing.

The kunai pressed into your belly and you made a quick and precise cut, widening the stab wound.

This is Nothing.

You dropped the kunai and the fingers of your dominant hand delved inside the opening.

This Is Nothing.

Tears fell down your cheeks at the nauseating and painful feeling, trying to focus on the feeling on your fingertips instead.

This Is NOTHING.

You found the shrapnel. It embedded itself into your finger as you pulled it out. 

THIS IS NOTHING.

You vomited.

“-ame]? [Name]! You’re with me, with Uzui Tengen. You’re in my- our estate. It’s night time, Saturday. [Name], can you hear me? Please, answer me, precious. I can’t- can’t-”

The mission madness receded, the fog in your mind clearing up. You were panting heavily, sweating as if you had a fever. “Ten- gen-”

“I’m here, I’m right here, precious. What did I do wrong? What did I do? Say the word and I’ll fix it- please-”

“S-stop-” you tried to focus on something other than his frantic energy. 

His hands, so warm, holding your waist lightly. His thumbs, so gentle, caressing the skin in circles. His scent, so home, calming you down.

Tengen’s presence tethered you back to Earth.

“Don’t talk,” you choked out. You had to focus. 

What could you see? Tengen, tatami mats, silk yukata, futon, the hanging scroll.

What could you hear? Your heavy breathing, rain, Tengen’s soft breaths, your pounding heart.

What could you feel? The cold air, the tatami mats, Tengen’s warmth.

“Okay, okay,” you breathed out softly. The tight downward spiral winding in your chest released slowly. In through your nose, out through your mouth. In, and out.

“You don’t have to tell me anything- I’m so so sorry. What can I-? Is there anything I can-?”

You took his hands in yours and squeezed tightly twice. Are you okay? He squeezed back once. Yes.

“Breathe… I’m fine now.” His breathing cadence was very close to hyperventilating. Guilt crept up your spine. You’d brought the Great Shinobi Tengen, your husband, to his knees twice in just as many days. You should suffer for such a crime for Ten Thousand Years.

“You’re not fine, precious. You’re far from- But you’re here with me, I will make it be fine. Give me a chance-” 

The air was practically saturated with emotion, tension and everything between Hell and Heaven imaginable. You clutched each other’s hands with desperation. You kept eye contact - an uncontrollable typhoon holding its breath in anticipation, before it unleashed its full power.

He kissed you with the hunger of a starving dog. It was clear he was fighting with himself, alternating erratically between devouring you and feather-light kisses so tender it made your toes curl. He bit you and soothed the bite, he caressed you and lapped at you. It was dizzying.

You were just as thirsty for him though, positively parched for his kisses, his affection, his taste and his love. You savored every second of it, as if you would die should you separate but for a millisecond.

“I burn for you,” he breathed against your lips, diving in once more.

You remembered the times when he ate you out for his pleasure, how he nearly got off of it more than you did. But today, this time, you wouldn’t be able to handle such vulnerability, your emotions too raw from… whatever that was a few minutes ago - validation? Worship?

At the same time you needed him, needed the closeness sex brought to you both. And the same need drove you to break the kiss and push him onto his back as you straddled his hips. He let you, surrendering to you completely despite your feeble strength compared to his. You made quick work of his obi and pulled his yukata open.

An amused huff left you when you saw he had no underwear. “You wanted this, didn’t you?”

Tengen blushed in embarrassment. “Maybe…” he muttered.

You smirked a little, “Impossible man.”

“Your impossible man, always yours.” He gave you a soft look, a smile gracing his handsome features. His arms remained relaxed, not reaching to pull down your underwear at all, content to be the perfect pillow princess.

That was fine, you wanted to set the pace anyway. 

With a quick movement, your panties were off. You ground against his quickly-hardening member, your slick quickly covering him. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and he took a deep breath through his nose, eyes lidded. 

Before he could stop you, you were lining him up to your entrance, going right for his cock like an overly eager virgin. The stretch burned like nothing else. You had to take your time, bullying more and more with quick shallow thrusts onto him. You kept going despite the pain for if you stopped, you wouldn’t be able to continue.

“You’re doing amazing, precious,” he ground out, doing his best not to slam you down onto his length. It’s been too long for you, and really, he should have prepared you, but you were so impatient you couldn’t last a second longer without him inside. 

When you bottomed out, you sighed in relief, staying seated and cockwarming your husband for the first time in years. You hadn’t even noticed you started to weep quietly until Tengen’s thumbs wiped your tears away.

Something drew your attention though.

There was a small beauty mark near the heel of his right palm, right by his pulse point. Eyes focused on only that mark, your hand grasped his wrist gently and pulled it closer to your lips. You kissed the beauty mark, a feather-light brush of your lips, his heartbeat jumping at the action.

His eyes held yours prisoner when you looked up. The soft look he was giving you nearly made you tear up again, feeling too vulnerable. Instead of that, you rolled your hips. 

The reaction was immediate, his head fell back, mouth open in a perfect ‘o’ at the spasm of your muscles. The movement stirred your guts uncomfortably, telling you you weren’t adjusted to him filling you up again yet.

“Fuuuhck-” he groaned. His hands gripped your hips in a tight hold, almost bruising. Tengen seemed to have realized what he was doing a moment later and let up, just holding you gently. “Ngh- you’re making me crazy, love.”

His cock kept twitching inside of you, and it had to be hard to hold back on fucking up into you. Well, you guessed this would be his punishment for all the crying you did today. You already knew you’d have a headache tomorrow.

“Can I-” his hesitant words drew your attention to him again, “can I touch you, please?” Tengen was biting his lip, his eyes practically filled with desperation.

You paused - and nodded.

One of his hands trailed down to your clit, circling it with his thumb gently. By this point, your slick reached it, so the caresses were smooth and pleasurable. He stared at where the two of you connected intently as if he was trying to memorize the sight.

Each little brush of his finger, you relaxed around his length more and more and one slow touch in particular made your hips jerk from the sudden pleasure. Your breath hitched in your throat and you closed your eyes. 

“You were made for me,” Tengen murmured, not stopping his work. He had an urge, a need to worship you, to make you feel good, make you feel so good that you would never think of leaving him. You would never leave, you would stay right where you are, forever content to warm his cock inside your plush pussy, letting him be the sole reason for your life. He wanted that, craved it even - making you stay and be his wife again. But- “I don't deserve this, don't deserve you.” 

When your eyes finally opened again, they were filled with unshed tears. “I love you, I never stopped loving you,” you choked out. Saying those words felt like absolution. Previously unnoticed heavy weight fell off your shoulders and you reached for both of his hands - stopping his slow motions on your clit - with your own, intertwining them in an intimate hold.

“Then make me yours again, please, please take me. I need it, I need you,” he told you in a hushed whisper, a flush taking over his face as he studied your figure above him.

You reveled in his attention, savored it, starting a slow pace, using your connected hands for support. “Mhm~” The drag of his thick cock against your sensitive walls felt amazing. You’d nearly forgotten how good it felt to have him inside of you, how good it felt to be linked together like this - two pieces of puzzle completing the whole picture.

“There- chase your pleasure-” he whimpered as you rolled your hips every time you bottomed out, desperate for more friction. “Use me, my body, my cock, whatever you need, precious." 

You tried to find the right angle, the one that made you scream back when you were younger. “I’ve missed you so much-” your breath hitched in your throat when his tip hit just right inside of you and you closed your eyes. You let out a breathy Fuck when you repeated the action, your pussy spasming around him. Every sensation seemed heightened. You couldn’t get enough.

Now that you’ve hit your stride, your pace went from slow and sensual to quick and sloppy. Tengen offered all the support with his steady hands as you needed. The whole act was so familiar, yet new in so many ways. His breathing pattern was different while he was balls-deep in you; yours was too - your body was long ways from your top form when you were a teenager, but he seemed to be stronger than ever.

He appeared to be as lost in the pleasure as you were starting to be. “You look so beautiful- ngh- bouncing on my cock-!” he ground out between clenched teeth. “You’re so tight.”

His hips bucked up on accident, making you cry out. A coil was winding inside of you; you were balancing on the precipice of your first orgasm in what seemed like forever, sensitive to every small shift of your connected bodies. The anticipation of what was coming kept you going despite the burn in your thighs. 

Tengen’s hands clenched yours tighter. You peeked at him with half-lidded eyes, still chasing your release urgently. 

His mouth hung open, nearly drooling, chest heaving with soft pants; eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed, his entire expression as if he were in pain instead of rearranging your guts - as if he were the one who was getting his insides rearranged. A bright blush on his face was just a highlight of the whole picture.

The sight just hurled you closer to the edge with the speed of sound. Your pussy clung to his cock impossibly tight.

“Fuck- You’re close, I can feel it-” he said in a strained voice, almost wheezing. His eyes opened, tears falling from the intensity of his pleasure.

The thickly-wound knot snapped.

Your mouth fell open, agape. A loud stuttered moan echoed in the room, much more high-pitched than you thought yourself capable of. Tengen whimpered underneath you as you clutched his hands with a death-grip.

“There you go. You’re so beautiful…”

Your ears rang, his voice a muffled background noise. Your hips jerked involuntarily with another shock of pleasure, squeezing around him again. “Fu- precious - hah - you milk my cock just as good as I remember…”

You slowly came down from your high, drained. Your thighs trembled despite sitting your whole weight on his lap. Sweat ran down your back, your ribs and your hair stuck to your face yet you could care less when you looked your love in the eyes with a new clarity in your mind. 

He always made you feel amazing - in bed and out of it. You would give this new form of marriage a chance. Once the three wives returned from their mission, you would give them a chance. All this, just for Tengen.

“Can I…?” The question was hesitant, and your heart swelled with affection for this man, for your husband. He was so gentle with you, as if you would break like glass if handled improperly.

“Use me for your pleasure, Tengen,” you smiled warmly.

“Oh lord-” His eyes nearly rolled back into his skull when you gave him permission so sweetly.

He grabbed you by your waist, lifting you a little, pace sloppy and so wet each thrust came with a loud squelch as he fucked up into you roughly.

“I- won’t- last-” his thrusts stuttered very quickly in his frantic race to finish fast. Poor Tengen must have been about to cum when you had your release, yet he held back to not overwhelm you. “Fuck!”

“Don’t hold back, give it to me. Cum, Tengen.”

“Oh god- Yes. Yes-” The sound he emitted was an unholy guttural moan, his whole body shook, tears gathering at his lash line. He pressed harshly against your cervix, spurts of cum painting your inner walls white and filling you to the brim.

You caught your breath slowly. “There is no god up here…” 

Tengen grinned lazily at you and panted out, “... other than- Me. You- hah - you remembered.” 

He kept rutting into you with very slow thrusts, shallow yet so deep, as if he wanted to force more of his cum inside. His cock kept twitching and his thighs shook, the muscles of his abdomen jumping and rolling underneath his skin.

His semen leaked out around him mixed with your juices. Only when pleasure turned into pain of overstimulation did he stop. “You make me dizzy. You’ve always made me so dizzy…” He pulled you down to him, your head against his chest and his arms encircling you in a blanket of safety and warmth.

You melted in his embrace, breathing in his scent combined with yours. The smell of sex was heady, and would have sent you both into another quick rut before your mission. Neither of you moved though, you kept his cock and cum warm and he kept your body warm, a perfect harmony of two lovers.

“We should clean up soon,” Tengen whispered, making no move to get up.

“I don’t want to go anywhere. I just want to stay here, in your arms…” Your words had a double meaning. Your husband was your soul’s mate, and as such, he picked up on both, understanding your meaning in between. 

“Then stay, don't go.” Instead of moving you, he reached for the blanket and threw it over both of you. “I’m so lucky I have you back… The luckiest… I feel like I could fly. You bring Heaven down to me, precious,” he murmured, stroking your back gently. 

The simple gesture brought back so many memories, though foggy as they may be. You decided that it wasn’t such a bad thing. You could look back once in a while, but you needed to go forward and rebuild what was broken. And you had the best helper for that - after all, who was stronger than the Great Shinobi Tengen.

“I love you, Uzui Tengen.”

The idea of a first wife coming home to three more has been living rent-free in my mind for months. I'm making it your problem.

There might be part 2 but only after my brain recuperates from this entire work.

Part 2

[goldfades]

"kiss me?" / "nope." / "please?" / "...okay, fine." With jack hughes please

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 | jh⁸⁶

♡ ─ word count | 420 (haha)

♡ ─ warnings | teasing, luke being mean to jack (PLAYFULLY!!), a kiss

♡ ─ ev's notes | this is how i imagine all their arguments start LMAO

You tried your best to hold your laugh in as Luke kept teasing Jack about his long end-of-the-season hair, as he liked to call it. Jack had always been particular about his appearance, but during the end of the season, he often let things slide a bit and Luke loved teasing him.

"Dude, when are you gonna get a damn haircut," Luke joked as he leaned back on the couch, feeling Jack's glare from across the room. "I know you don't want to but I'm tired of looking at it."

Jack rolled his eyes, running a hand through his unruly hair. "It's not that bad, Luke. I'm just letting it breathe a bit."

"Breathe? More like suffocating the entire room with your hair," Luke teased, "Seriously, Jack, I think there might be a bird nesting in there by now."

You couldn't hold in the laugh now, laughing along with Luke as Jack glared at you two. "Jesus," Luke's head fell back in laughter as you shook your head. Jack crossed his arms, feigning hurt.

"Wow, my brother and my girlfriend both ganging up on me." Jack pouted as Luke rolled his eyes. "Never thought I'd be betrayed this badly by my girlfriend... Wow."

"Shut up," Luke retorted as Jack kept pouting. You tried scooting closer to him but Jack rolled his eyes.

"How about you go sit with your new best friend, huh Y/N?" Jack teased as he gave you a hurt look.

"Aw, come on, Jack, you know you're my favorite," you replied with a playful grin, reaching out to ruffle his hair affectionately despite his protests.

"No, obviously you love Lukey way more than me."

"God, he's so needy." Luke rolled his eyes as he watched the show in front of him with a smile on his face.

"Hey, I heard that!" Jack protested, trying to smooth down his ruffled hair with an exaggerated pout.

You laughed, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on Jack's cheek. "Don't worry, Jack. You'll always be my number one. Now give me a kiss."

"Nope." Jack turned his face away as you let out a loud sigh.

"Jack, please."

Jack looked back at you and smiled. "Fine, fine." He leaned in to kiss you but you swerved him slightly, causing a loud laugh from Luke. Jack rolled his eyes before grabbing your face, planting a kiss on your lips.

Luke pretended to gag, earning a playful shove from both of you. The three of you dissolved into laughter once again.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[eideticmemory]

DARLING & DANDELION | SPENCER REID

Spencer is a lot of things to you. Your baby daddy, your lover, your best friend, and a massive pain in your ass.

Word Count: 6k.

Warning/Includes: Dad!Spencer, smut, angst, hurt/comfort.

You haven’t even caught your breath yet and you go, “We can’t do this anymore.”

And Spencer’s, whose chest is still heaving up and down, goes, “Wh…what?”

“We can’t do this anymore,” you wipe sweat from your forehead. “It’s tacky.”

Spencer props himself up his elbow and turns his body to face you, “Tacky? What do you mean?”

“Don’t do that. You know what I mean.”

“It’s…I mean…we…it’s healthy.”

“Tuh!” you laugh. “That’s your professional opinion, doctor?”

“Yes. Yes, sex is good for the body and the mind.”

“What if…” you prop yourself up on your elbows, “It’s with your ex, who you can never work it out with, who you have a kid with, on an occasional and convenient basis?”

“From personal experience, it’s the best sex you can ever have,” he finishes his sentence with a devilish smile and you roll your eyes, poke your tongue out at him.

You shake your head, “I have to go. You have to go,” you get out of bed.

Spencer’s eyes scan over your naked body and he asks, “Why? Where are you going?”

“Gotta pick up Dandelion from my mom’s,” you tell him as you button your jeans.

“Can I come?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? I haven’t seen Dandy in a week.”

“It’s not about you seeing Dandy. It’s about my mom seeing you.”

“What? She loves me.”

“Duh, more than she loves me, but you know how she likes to pry. She’s gonna think we’re back together.”

“Ah! No, not that we’re back together,” he mocks. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, darling.”

“Well, it’s not a good thing. Put some clothes on.”

“Take your clothes off.”

“Oh, you wish.”

“Can I come?”

“You came about five minutes ago, mister. It’s time for you to go.”

He fakes a laugh, “You’re so clever. Can I come?”

“Are you going to keep asking?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh,” you roll your eyes. “Fine, just, put some fucking clothes on.”

“You’re so easy to wear down,” he giggles, and he hops up, gets himself dressed. You go to leave the room and he calls out to you, “Hey.”

He steps in front of you, takes a good look, and runs his hand over your hair, “I think it would be a good thing…”

You feel this lump in your throat, jammed in the center of your voice box, blocking any air, any words. You tear your eyes away from him and clear your throat, “God, I hate your haircut.”

He chuckles to himself as you maneuver around him and he follows you out to your car.

You ring your mom’s doorbell and say, “Need you to act normal, please.”

“Oh, so, not like we just came from having sex?”

“Exactly.”

You feel him squeeze your ass and you jump, swat at his arm, “Hey!”

“I’m just getting it all out now.”

And as you roll your eyes, the door opens and your mom greets you with nothing but an, “Oh!”

“Hey, mom,” you wave as you step inside.

“Hey, mom,” Spencer mimics and gives her a big hug.

“Well, this is a surprise, huh?”

“Wrapped up with a case early, darling said I could tag along.”

You round the corner into the living room and see Dandelion sitting in front of the TV, legs crisscrossed underneath her. You lean against the wall and just watch her for a moment. You scan over her features, your eyes landing on the tip of her nose that pokes out just like her dad’s. You clear your throat and she does a double take when she sees you.

“Mommy!” she shouts, and she hops up at lightning speed, rushing towards you as fast as her little feet will carry her.

You drop to your knees and let her crash into you, engulf her in your arms, hold her really tight. You pepper her face with kisses, saying, “Hi, baby, hi, baby!”

“Did you have a good day at work?” she asks you.

“Yes, baby. How was your day with Mimi?”

“We got ice cream.”

“No way!”

“Yes!”

“What kind of ice cream?”

“Chocolate,” she giggles.

“Ooh, that’s your favorite. Did you eat all of it?”

“Yes.”

“Every single bite?”

“Yes!”

“Where did it all go, huh?” You start to tickle her tummy and she falls over in laughter. “Here? Here?”

Her giggles are so loud and contagious that you smile so wide, it hurts your face. “Guess what? I have a surprise for you.”

“For me?”

“Yes, you,” you tickle her face. “Look,” you stand her up. “Look who’s here.”

On queue, Spencer pops his head around the corner and Dandelion’s eyes light up. She jumps up and down, screaming, “Daddy!”

“Dandy!” Spencer exclaims, and he scoops her up in his arms.

You stand up as he walks her into the living room, pecking soft kisses all over her face, twirling her around, “Oh, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You watch the two of them, Spencer sat on the couch with Dandelion in his lap, his arms around her protectively. And as you settle into the peace of it all, something - someone - pinches you very hard and they won’t let go.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” you wince, as your mom drags you into the kitchen.

“What the hell is Spencer doing here?” she whispers.

She stands in front of you with her arms crossed and you suddenly feel like a little girl. You cut your eyes over to Spencer and Dandy very briefly and stutter, “He…told you. They finished the case early and he asked if he could come see Dandy.”

“Mmhmm…” she nods.

“Mom, please,” you groan.

“Don’t mom, please me. What is going on?”

“Nothing is going on. I…we…he wanted to come see Dandy, so I let him come see Dandy. Coparenting 101, I don’t understand why you’re so suspicious.”

“What…what is this…” she reaches in and pulls down the collar of your shirt to reveal your neck. “Is…is that a hickey? Oh, [y/n], c’mon. What are you? 15?”

“No, no, I…burnt myself with a flat iron.”

She sighs, “I hope you know what you’re doing here, kid.”

“I’m not doing anything. Nothing is happening. I…”

“Shush,” she tells you and you turn around as Spencer enters the kitchen.

“Darling?” he calls.

“Hm?” you reply.

“Could I, uh, could Dandy come home with me? I’ll be off tomorrow and I can watch her while you’re at work and you could pick her up after?”

You and your mom exchange a glance and you cross your arms defensively, “Sure,” you nod at him. “Sure, if Dandy’s okay with that.”

“Thank you!” he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and your mom raises her eyebrows at you.

Spencer runs back into the living room, chanting, “Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day!” and Dandelion bursts into laughter, repeating him, going, “Daddy and Dandy day! Daddy and Dandy day!”

“Does he know nothing is happening?” your mom asks you.

“Spencer’s a smart boy, mom. Don’t worry about him.”

“And yet,” she sucks her teeth. “He’s a complete dumbass when it comes to you.”

Spencer asks if you can drive them to the park. There, JJ meets you with Henry. Dandy and him are close in age. In fact, Spencer had just returned from seeing Henry in the hospital when you told him you were pregnant. It was not your best timing, considering his familial trauma and all, but it had to be done. This puts Henry at 4 and Dandy running in close second at 6 months behind. JJ takes a seat next to you on the bench, watching Spencer run around with the kids. There are the casual aspects of conversation. The how are yous and how’s work and anecdotes about the kids and then she asks, “So, what’s going on between you two?”

“Ugh,” you groan. “Is there a sign on my face today or something?”

“Sore subject?” she grins.

“No. Nothing sore about it. Nothing’s going on…” you look at her from the corner of your eye, then turn your head, “Why? Why, did he say something to you?”

“No.”

A beat passes.

“You seem disappointed by that,” she adds.

“Oh, no. Don’t do that. Do not profile me. You know I hate it when you guys do that.”

She laughs, “Well, I lied. He talks about you all the time.”

You bite down on your lip and look away.

A beat passes.

JJ says, “You seem pleased by that.”

You drive Spencer and Dandelion to his apartment and she runs in like she owns the place.

“Okay, so,” you hold out her backpack for him. “She’s got a change of clothes in here, some hair clips, some ties, oh, uh, how much of her body wash and shampoo do you have left? Because I don’t think I put any in here…”

When you look up and he’s giving you a blank stare, you go, “What?”

“You’re not gonna come in?”

“It’ll just confuse her.”

Spencer wants to argue. He wants to sweet talk you and coax you inside, but coparenting 101, “No, yeah, you’re right.”

He watches you kiss Dandelion goodbye and when she runs back inside, he says, “Call you at bedtime?”

“Yes. Please.”

He has that look in his eye like he wants to kiss you, you know it well. So you leave before he can get a chance.

When you’re laying in bed that night, Spencer calls you on FaceTime and he sets you up on the nightstand so you can see them both. Dandelion laying in bed and Spencer kneeling beside her.

“Hi, mommy!” They say in unison.

“Hi,” you giggle.

“We were just about to pick Dandy’s story for the night,” Spencer tells you. “Dandy?”

She tilts her head.

“What story do you want tonight, baby?”

“Ummm…” she hums, giggling, “The story about my name.”

“Ohhh, that’s a good story,” Spencer grins.

“That is a good story,” you smile.

Spencer holds Dandelion’s hands in his and starts, in this sweet, soft voice, “Once upon a time…there was a mommy and a daddy. And they loved each other sooo much that they were gonna have a…”

“Baby!” she finishes for him and he chuckles.

“That’s right, they were gonna have a baby! And the mommy and daddy were sooo excited about their baby, they just couldn’t wait. But when the time came for the baby to come…”

“She didn’t wanna come out!” Dandy laughs.

“No, no, no, the baby didn’t wanna come out. She wanted to stay warm and cozy in the mommy’s belly. So, the mommy and daddy tried everything to get their baby to come out, but nothing worked! Until one day, they went for a walk at the park. And the mommy was so big that she walked like this…” Spencer mimics your trademark waddle and the two of you laugh at him, you rolling your eyes at the screen. “And they walked and walked and walked and nothing was working. Until, this big, big gust of wind came by…”

He flails his arms, going, “Whoooooosh!” and Dandelion mimics him.

“It was so big, it almost knocked the mommy and daddy over. And when the wind stopped, this tiny, small dandelion floated out of the sky and landed right on the mommy’s belly…and then…”

“Pop!” they say in sync.

“The baby was ready to come out! So the daddy took the mommy to the hospital and out came the most beautiful baby the world has ever, ever seen. The mommy and daddy were so happy and they loved her so much. But they still had to pick a name for her. So after they thought and thought and thought, they named her…”

“Diana Dandelion Reid,” she smiles.

“That’s right,” Spencer nods. “But we just call you Dandy.”

Dandelion smiles as Spencer places a kiss on her nose. “Goodnight, baby. Say good night to mommy,” he grabs his phone and holds it up to her.

“Goodnight, mommy,” she tells you and your heart just melts.

“Goodnight, baby,” you whisper. “I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

She nods and rolls over as Spencer turns out the lamp, leaving her to sleep. Once he’s out of the room, he closes the door and gives you a soft smile.

“Thanks for joining us, darling.”

You smile, nod, “It’s a good story.”

“The best.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it.”

While you’re at work the next day, Spencer sends you a picture of the two of them out on the lake.

S: Pedal boats today!

You giggle to yourself.

Y: Omg so fun!! I thought you were afraid of open water?

S: I was terrified but she begged and begged and begged! What was I supposed to do???

Y: 😂😂😂

You pick up Dandelion after work and she is distraught.

“I don’t want daddy to go!” she cries and you see Spencer’s heart break. You can hear it.

“He’ll be back, baby, he always come back,” you whisper, rubbing her back.

“No-oo-oo!” she cries and reaches up for Spencer who scoops her into his arms before she can ball her hands into a fist.

“Hey, hey, hey, Dandy, look at me,” he cooes. He wipes the tears from her eyes, “You and mommy are going to call me everyday, huh? And you’ll tell me all about your fun day with Mimi and we’ll do your story before bed and I promise you, I will be back before you know it. Okay?”

She sniffles, gives him a sad nod.

“Okay, give me a hug,” he says and they squeeze each other real tight. “You, too, mommy,��� he holds his other arm open for you and you hesitate, but only for a moment, and then you step in and wrap your arms around both of them.

“Mmm,” he hums happily, gives you both a kiss on the cheek, “My girls. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Dandelion lets Spencer hand her over to you and he waves until you guys are out of the door and all the way down the stairs. Then he exhales all the air in his chest and he cries. But only for a little bit.

He’s gone for a little over two weeks. The day he comes back, he doesn’t really give you any notice, he just texts: Back in town. What are you up to?

And you, still at work, reply: Nothin. Workin.

S: Lunch?

You meet him at a restaurant down the street and when you walk in, he gets so excited that he stands up to wave and knocks all the silverware off the table. Your hand flies to your mouth as it all falls to the floor in a loud sequence of clangs and booms and you watch him scramble to pick it all up. People are staring and as you make the decision to walk over to him, it’s like you’re saying to everyone: yep, he’s mine!

“Hi, darling,” he huffs, his face bright red.

“Hi,” you laugh.

He takes you in a warm embrace and you hold the back of his head in your hand.

“Oh, I missed you,” he says.

“We missed you, too.”

He’s not supposed to, but like he always has, he tells you all about the case they were working on. Full of twists and turns and gorey details that make you sick to your stomach but, somehow, you can still eat. He asks about Dandy and that leads you into the dreaded preschool conversation and you both shut it down instantly.

“How did she get so big?” he asks.

“We just…kept feeding her,” you laugh and he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Time needs to slow down. Seriously. It’s happening too fast.”

“I know. I know, I know, but we’ve got so much more to look forward to, y’know? First day of school and science fairs and graduations…”

“Ah-ah! No, no, none of that. She’s gonna be little forever.”

“You’re in denial, doctor.”

“Well, duh.”

“Here’s the check, you guys,” the waiter interrupts. “No rush, though. Take your time.”

“Thanks,” you say in unison.

“He only brought one check?” you question.

Spencer raises his eyebrows at you.

“And he gave it to you? How caveman of him.”

“Now, now, darling, stand down. Let me pay for your food.”

“I mean, of course I’m going to let you pay for it. I just don’t like the assumption.”

“What assumption?” he smirks.

“I…you really like driving me insane, don’t you?”

He cackles and nods, “Yeah, actually. Kinda my job.”

You laugh and lean into him a bit. The booth you two are in has you sandwiched shoulder to shoulder, and sure, there is plenty of room for there to be distance between you two, but you don’t want there to be. You look at his neck and reach in. As your fingertip touches his skin, you can feel his pulse kick up. You pull the chain from underneath his shirt and let the dandelion pendant fall to his chest.

“Where’s yours?” he asks and his fingertips trail over your collarbone, grabbing onto your matching necklace.

You release his chain, but he won’t let go off yours and he’s giving you that look and you just shake your head, “I should really get back to work.”

When you get to his place, the two of you burst through the door, bodies mangled and tangled together, lips mushed into each other’s faces. Spencer’s got his arms wrapped tight around your waist and your hands have gotten lost in his hair. As he pushes you backwards, you trip over a barbie doll and nearly fall over but he catches you.

“You okay?” he mumbles.

“Mhm,” you nod, and you whip your bodies around, push him onto the couch. He lands with a deep, “oof!” and watches you crawl into his lap. His eyelids drop, feeling the warmth of your hand on his face and your lips on his neck. He grips onto your waist, bunches your dress up in his hands and you work to unbutton his shirt.

You breathe into each other’s mouths, out of breath and grinding against one another on a constant, rhythmic loop.

“Mm,” you moan as he licks down your neck. “Do you have a condom?”

“Mm,” he ponders, “Condom, condom, condom…yes!” And he throws you off of him, leaving you laying on your back while he runs into his room. You slide your panties off and he returns with the packet in hand and falls right on top of you.

His body perched between your legs, you undo his pants and take his jaw in your hands, put your tongue in his mouth. He puts the condom on and holds onto the couch as he pushes all the way into you. You both gasp and Spencer crashes on top of you, catching you in a messy kiss. You pull your legs back for him and he starts pounding into you with this rhythm that you love and he knows that you love. He peppers soft kisses all over your face and grunts into your ear, grips onto your jaw so he can look you in the eye. He thrusts into you so quickly and with so much force that the couch is rattling around on the floor and your head is getting knocked off the edge of the couch. But he’s got you.

Your moans bounce off the walls and your mouth is wide open as you scream, “Fuck!”

As Spencer leans into kiss you, the both of you lose your balance and go sliding off the couch.

“Oh, shit!” you gasp, and try to hold on, but it’s too late and you guys fall on the floor, Spencer groaning as he breaks your fall.

“Oh, my god,” you whisper, leaning down to comfort him. “Oh, my god, are you okay?”

“I’m okay, just…just do that thing with your hips that I like,” he huffs.

You readjust, “This?” you pant as you start to grind your hips on his cock.

“Oh, yeah,” he moans, his eyes falling shut and his head rolling back. “Yeah, that’s it.”

You lean back, resting your hands on his knees and bounce on him, your mouth falling open. He paws at your breasts and pulls at the fabric of your dress. He knows you’re about to come because he knows you, and he knows your body and he can feel you tightening around him, your hips increasing in speed. Your voice starts to get real whiny and you pound your palms into his chest.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whimper and all he can do is watch, and hold himself back until you get there.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you tangle your fingers in his hair and grind yourself against him until your whole body tenses up and trembles. You come with his face in your chest and your eyes rolling so far back in your head that you go blind. It only takes a few more motions of your hips for him to follow behind you and he holds onto you for dear life, muffling his groans against your skin.

You both fall onto the floor, still holding each other, trying to catch your breath. Spencer grips onto your hair and kisses you passionately, repeatedly, and casually says, “Love you.”

You can’t stop the visceral reaction you have. You just sit up and stare at him, your eyes big and wide. “I…” you stutter, give him a friendly pat on the face, “Love you…I have to go.”

He watches, dazed and confused, as you hop off of him and fix your dress, “You’re making me feel cheap here, darling.”

You laugh, awkwardly, “No, no, I just, I’m so late for work. I have to get back,” you trip over your panties as you pull them up your legs and swear, “Shit!”

Spencer fixes his pants and stands up, striding over to you, “I freaked you out…”

“What? No. You didn’t freak me out.”

“Because, I can say I don’t love you if it’ll fix it.”

“I’m not freaked out.”

“I don’t love you, I…hate you actually.”

“I’m just late for work,” you try to slide out the door but he reaches out for you.

“Wait, wait,” he calls. “I thought I could maybe see Dandy today?”

“Uh, yeah, she’s at my mom’s just, go whenever,” you shrug. “I have to go. Bye.”

“Darling?” he calls, but you close the door on him.

Your body shivers and you march down the hallway, down the stairs and back on your way to work. When your shift ends, you head over to your mom’s and she opens the door with a bright smile, “Hello, my love!”

“Hi,” you groan as you step inside.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just, rough day. Need to see my Dandy…” you round the corner and see Spencer playing with her in the living room, so you push yourself back, your mom along with you.

“What the hell is he doing here?” you whisper.

“He’s been here for a few hours. He said he told you?”

“He…I mean…yeah, he did. Why is he still here?”

“I don’t know, [y/n], maybe to be an active, caring father? Crucify the boy, why don’t you?”

Your heart is pounding out of your chest and you tug on your hair with a rush of anxiety.

“[y/n]…” your mom says. “What is going on?”

You sigh and lean against the wall, “I don’t know what I’m doing…you were right, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

And she steps in, grabs your shoulders, takes a deep breath. You follow her. In and out, in and out.

“Well, then,” she nods. “You better figure it the fuck out, baby.”

“I know. I know, I know.”

“Mommy?” Your heads turn to the sound of the tiny voice and Dandelion looks up at you with wide, innocent eyes and every bit of tightness in your chest just dissipates.

“Hi, honey,” you coo and you instantly lean down to pick her up. “Oh, hi, you. Hi, my baby.”

Spencer follows her out there and waves, casually, “Hi, mommy.”

“Hi,” you nod to him.

“Me and daddy made a castle,” Dandelion tells you. “Come look!”

“Oh, yes, show me, show me!”

You follow her into the living room, leaving Spencer with your mom. She purses her lips at him and then promptly walks by him, giving his shoulder a harsh slap.

“Ow!” he exclaims. “What did I do?”

Spencer takes Dandelion home for the night. It’s a Friday so he plans to have her all weekend and most of next week which is fine with you. It’ll give you time to rest and reflect and figure it the fuck out. Spencer takes the hint. For once, he takes the hint and he only texts you sporadic updates.

So, when he calls you on Monday at four in the morning, you think he wants to have a talk. One of those conversations that you guys can never seem to have in the light of day.

“Hello?” you grumble.

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry I woke you up. Can you, um, can you come over?”

You sit up, “Why? Is Dandy okay?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s fine. She’s asleep. I, uh…there’s a case…”

You sigh. “Of course.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re already up to get dressed.

“Darling…”

“I’ll be there in ten,” and you hang up.

He sees your car pull in from the street and he has the door open for you when you get upstairs. He has his go-bag packed and he looks apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “I’ll make it up to you. Both of you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off. “I’ve got it. You can go.”

“Darling, you know I can’t…I…I didn’t ask to be called in.”

“No, well, duh. This is just one of those things, right?” you shrug. “One of those things I could never stand and I still can’t stand. I’m used to it. It’s fine. I’ll explain to Dandy.”

“This isn’t about the case…”

“Can you…please?”

“This is about the other day. When we…when I…”

“I’m not upset. Don’t project on me. I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay, that was convincing.”

“Why do you always have to do this?” you snap, keeping your voice down. “Without fail. You always do this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you always have to ruin a good thing? You always, always just have to suck the fun out of everything.”

He scoffs, goes to speak, and pauses, “Did it ever occur to you that…that it wasn’t fun for me, [y/n]?”

Oh, he’s serious. He used your real name.

“That I didn’t enjoy being yanked around and used like some toy?”

“I…oh, come on! Is your eidetic memory broken or something? You initiated it, remember? And if you did that just in hopes of us getting back together, that’s not fair. That’s so unfair.”

“I just wanted to be close to you. And, yeah, maybe that wasn’t fair. But I just…I’m having a hard time believing that it doesn’t work. That we don’t work, hey,” he grabs your shoulders, makes you stop shaking your head and look at him, “Maybe for all the hurt we’ve caused each other and all the baggage, maybe it’s just meant to work. We are meant to work, okay? Because I love you. I am so in love with you. I don’t know how to not be in love with you, look,” he puts your hand to his chest, “Feel how fast my heart is beating? It does not every time I’m around you. I can’t help it.”

“Please, stop.”

“And you’re telling me you don’t feel the same way?” he puts his hand to your ribs and your heart is pounding against his palm. “I don’t believe you.”

It takes you a moment before you can pry his hand away. You remove your hand from his chest, hold his hands in yours, and give him this sad, sad look.

You can see his shoulders fall in defeat, this heavy breath of air coming straight from his chest. He steps away and grabs his go-bag, stands up straight, “It’s a local case so I shouldn’t be gone too long. Kiss Dandy for me?”

You nod, but you can’t look at him. You let him place a kiss on your forehead and then he leaves. You lock the door behind him.

You crawl into bed with Dandelion and you stir for most of the night.

By the time you fall asleep, she wakes up twenty minutes later.

And so, life just kinda goes on. Spencer calls to talk to Dandy just before you go into work so you tell him to call your mom and he does. That’s the last you hear from him for the next couple of days until he calls you while you’re at work.

“Hello?” you answer.

“[y/n]?”

You pause for a moment, “JJ?” and then the realization hits you and you hop up from your desk, running out of the building.

There’s some words like “bomb” and “concussion” and “pavement” but they all blur together and you yell, “Just tell me what hospital!”

You can’t even remember where you parked your car. Everything is muffled and you rush around the crowded hospital in a frenzy. You can’t hear anything. Hell, you can barely see anything. Just Derek, holding an ice pack to his head, pointing you towards a room so you go.

When you see Spencer lying there, a big bandage wrapped around the circumference of his head and a doctor tracking his vitals, you can barely bring yourself to step in the room.

The doctor glances at you, then returns to his clipboard, “Are you his wife?”

You step in, slowly, bring yourself to Spencer’s side, “I’m, uh, the closest thing he’s got to one.”

He tells you there’s some swelling around Spencer’s brain, but it’s been drained. He can’t provide you with an exact estimate of when Spencer will wake up. If he ever wakes up. And as this man is talking to you in this stern, stoic voice, you just look at Spencer. You trace the structure of his face and put your hand on his chest. The doctor leaves and you still can’t pull yourself away from him.

“You did this on purpose,” you whisper, caressing his face. “You did this on purpose to make me feel bad, didn’t you? Because…because I was awful to you…I’m so sorry,” you sob. “I’m so sorry.”

You lay your head on his chest and cry, “Just don’t die. I can’t do this by myself, you hear me? Please, don’t, die.”

Spencer wouldn’t wake up for another four whole days. You sleep in the chair beside his bed until a nice nurse brings you a cot. Dandelion stays at your mom’s house and JJ offers, repeatedly, to give you a a chance to leave. Shower, eat, see your kid. But you’re so worried that if you leave, Spencer will die. So you fall asleep every night to the sound of his heartbeat on the monitor and if it ever should stop, you would know. On day four, you pop your head up from a few hours sleep and he’s watching you. His eyes are hooded and grey, but they are open, you can tell. You hop up and rush over to him, gently setting your hands on his body.

“Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Hi! Hi! Hi, Spencer,” you sob. “Oh, my god.”

He stares at you for a moment, then his eyes scan the room. He looks back at you, “Who…” his voice breaks, “Are you?”

Your eyes go wide and you let out this defeated sound. You don’t even know where to begin. You don’t know how to respond or what to do or how to feel. You think you’re gonna crumble to your knees. And then he smiles.

“I’m just messing with you, darling.”

“Ugh!” you shout and you start slamming your palms into his chest. “That’s not funny!”

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” he laughs. “Okay, okay, okay, I’m injured here!”

You take his face in your hands and give him a long kiss. You can hear his heart rate go up on the monitor.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he mumbles, as you hug him. “I’m…I’m sorry for everything.”

“No, stop that. Not important. Ridiculously unimportant, okay? Don’t even think about it.”

He nods and breathes you in, “You…stink. When was the last time you showered?”

“That would be…like, the day you were blown up.”

“Ah. When was that?”

“Four days ago.”

“Holy shit.”

You giggle, “Did you just say a bad word, doctor l?”

“Fuck, cut me some slack! I slept through hump day.”

You press your nose against his and laugh and the world feels okay again.

Spencer has to stay in the hospital for another week before you can bring him home. Dandelion is back in her own bed and she just thinks Spencer has gone on a long, long trip. She’s at your mom’s when you get Spencer to his apartment and he begs to see her. Even when his head is still killing him, he begs to see her.

“Tomorrow,” you say as you tuck him into bed. “You’ve still got that scary raccoon look going on. Don’t wanna freak her out.”

“Tomorrow? You promise?”

“I promised the both of you. Tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He curls up and notices you crawl in bed beside him, “Darling, you don’t have to sleep here.”

“Shhhh,” you whisper, run your hand through his hair, “Go to sleep.”

The next day, he is more like himself. Maybe it’s the adrenaline he gets from the prospect of seeing his daughter, maybe it’s waking up next to you in the morning, but either way, he looks like himself and he talks like himself and he can’t wait to go to the park.

Your mom meets you there with Dandelion and she trips over her feet running to Spencer. She crashes into him and nearly knocks him over, and you can tell it hurts him, but he takes it and kisses her face.

“Where were you, daddy?”

“Oh, on a long, long trip, baby. But I’m back now.”

“I missed you!”

“Oh, Dandy,” he squeezes her tight. “You have no idea.”

He plays for as long as he can. He climbs the playset and runs around playing tag and hide and seek until his breath nearly gives out. He runs over to the bench you and your mom are sat on and huffs, “Can someone else push her on the swing before I pass out?”

The two of you laugh and your mom says, “I’ll go.”

“Thanks,” Spencer takes her spot beside you and his head falls into your lap. “Phew! Tell you what, a coma seriously bends you out of shape.”

“Well, you weren’t all that much in shape before the coma.”

“Ugh,” he groans. “You sound like the fitness personnel at the academy. What does in shape even mean?”

You cackle and he puts his arm over your shoulder. The two of you watch Dandy on the swing. Up and down, up and down, higher and higher, until her laughter is echoing around the park.

“You know…” you start. “Maybe it wouldn’t be…the worst thing in the world…”

Spencer doesn’t even have to ask what you’re talking about, he just looks at you and smiles, “Really?”

You give him a sly shrug.

He looks away from you, trying to keep himself from smiling so hard that his face rips in half. “I…I’m sorry - it’s because I got blown up, isn’t it?”

“Just shut up,” you laugh.

“You can tell me the truth, I won’t be mad.”

“You know what? I take it back, you get on my nerves. Oof!” you exclaim as he suddenly takes you into a tight hug. And for the first time in a long time, you feel a calm, serene peace.

“Yeah, well,” he says, “Sorry, too late.”

[pressureplus]

I need that for my comfort!🥺✨ Trans boy reader who started to have dysphoria because his hair a getting to long for his comfort. So he ask to Sebastian to help him cut them shorter, which Sebastian hesitantly agreed. Might not be the best since it’s was cut with some scissors and also because Sebastian never cut hair before. But reader is still happy with the result lol.

This is so cute

Hair and Care 101

Pairings: Sebastian Solace X TransMasc!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: Mentions of Gender Dysphoria

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

“And you're sure you want me to cut it? You won't do it yourself?”

“I can't exactly see the back of my head, so yes.” You sit on a stool, hands knitted together in anxiety. You'd asked Sebastian if he would be willing to cut your hair for you today. It had been, admittedly, a bit awkward to ask. He’d been flipping through files and restocking the supplies on his tail when you'd stepped into his shop. Your long hair getting in your eyes and somewhat fanning out nearly down to your hips. You hadn't had the opportunity to get it cut in so long it made your skin crawl. You felt…feminine. Way too feminine. You can't remember the last time you let your hair grow out this long and its made it really, really hard to focus on anything else. Its not just because it gets in your eyes and you can't for the life of you find a hairtie. Its deeper than that. You've started to almost flinch away from your reflections in the water and windows.

You've started to grab at your hips, at your face, poking and prodding and wondering if you can even pass with long hair. You haven't met another person besides Sebastian and the idea of being unable to see yourself the way you should. The way you know in your heart to be right. It makes you uncomfortable. You can only pinch and poke and prod for so long before your skin gets irritated. Right now, sat here, waiting for Sebastian to cut your hair? This was like your skin getting irritated. You had to debate if you were willing to even let another person cut your hair. What if they butchered it? What if it made you look worse than before? What if he fucked it up so bad you looked like one of those weird troll dolls but worse somehow? It had been your biggest worry for quite some time, until your hair got long enough that you couldn't stand it anymore.

“I feel like I should make you sign a waiver.”

“Sebastian, Im serious. Please, just cut it, I don't care if it's the worst thing ever. I can't keep walking around like this.”

“You understand my hands are too big to fit these scissors properly, right?”

“Doesnt matter, just get it done.” He sighs and grabs a collection of your long locks, specifically the one around your face. He straightens the hair to the best of his abilities using a hand so he can make the cleanest cuts he can.

“Why does this matter so much to you? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, focused on surviving? I mean paying me for a haircut seems a bit much.”

“Its…complicated.”

“How complicated can it really be?” He hums as he continues to make cuts, the sound of scissors through hair joining the sound of dripping water and Sebastian's voice. Would he even be cool about something like this? He doesn't particularly like anyone, and he's not really friendly with you either. Would he use it against you somehow? Would he get aggressive about it?

“I just feel kind of…feminine, and it makes me uncomfortable.” You mutter and this only gets a chuckle, sounding condescending.

“Oh, Expendable, long hair doesn't make you any less of a man. Don't be ridiculous.”

“I just don't like it.”

“Look, all I'm saying is, you could have bought a medkit instead of a haircut. If its this important than fine. Who am I to tell you how to spend your collected data?”

“Whether it makes me more of a man or not, is it wrong of me to not like feeling…” You trail off, and all at once, Sebastian tenses mid cut.

“Oh…thats what this is about.” His tone softens up a bit, the mild poking he had been doing immediately being cut out as he carries on cutting your hair.

“This isn't too stupid of a purchase, I guess.” He adds on.

“Yeah?” You ask as he finishes up, putting the scissors to the side and ruffling your hair to get any loose strands out.

“Yeah. Go take a look,” he motions towards the water so you can see yourself in the reflection. You peer down into it curiously and immediately your shoulders relax. You hadn't even realized you'd been tense. Your hairs a bit choppy, admittedly, but its not ugly or particularly butchered by any means. He was oddly thoughtful and careful about taking care of your hair for you. Even saying it was ridiculous to spend your data on, he didn't ruin it for you on purpose.

“Its good, you did a good job.”

“Yeah, well, I'm sure if you keep coming to me I'll get better every time.”

“Im sure you will, then.” You give him a smile and he kind of awkwardly smiles back for a moment. A bit of hesitation as you grab the keycard off his desk and put your swimming gear back on now that its dry.

“Wait.”

“Ah- Yes Sebastian?” You turn, concerned about what he might say. He's not stupid and you're certain he's figured you out by now. If he doesn't like it, there's nothing he can do about it sure but you always tense when people get all awkward around you. He hesitates a moment longer before giving you a little wave.

“You look better with short hair anyway.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do…now go on and get out of here. I've got other Expendables to deal with and a mess of hair to clean.”

[simpxxstan]

best friend's older brother vernon

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the members' headcanons in the event too as i post them through this month!

warnings: mention of cheating (not vernon or reader)

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who is two years older to you, but doesn't feel older at all

he may have lived in the world for two years more than you or your best friend, but you don't see where the years except the fact that he's taller than you

it's clear that vernon needs someone to take care of him. someone to show him which stop to get off at on the subway. someone who feeds him snacks when he's skipped lunch because he was too busy riding his bicycle. someone to push his hair back and make him wear a beanie when he's long due for a haircut. someone to remind him to take a certain book to class because he's bound to forget.

and mindlessly, unconsciously, you've taken up that role. of course, his sister and his family members are there, but you get involved too. partly because you spend so much time with his sister, but also because you like doing this. somehow, seven-year-old you felt very grown up taking care of a boy, so you go with the flow, and even after eleven years, the habits have stuck.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who introduces you to his relatives as his 'girlfriend'

ten year old vernon learnt the day before that a girlfriend is a female friend you want to marry. hence, he finds no problem in introducing you to everyone as his girlfriend. consequently, he absolutely does not understand why you smack him on the back and go all red and pouty, and everyone in the room begins laughing at him. he didn't say anything wrong, did he?

"why do you want to marry her, vernon-ah?" his mother asks him later. "because she's the nicest girl i've ever met. and she knows everything about me, and i know everything about her." his mother laughs, "that is quite true. well, you can't go about calling anyone your girlfriend, okay? it's only something you can do later, when you're older, and the girl also agrees to being your girlfriend." "why can't i do it now if y/n agrees to it?" "because that's how it is, nonie."

vernon doesn't understand why it is like that, but he lets that occasion. it doesn't mean that the joke doesn't persist. and even at the age of twenty, when you meet his relatives at his birthday party, they all call you his girlfriend.

of course, vernon understands what it really means now, and he also realises his mistake back then. even you don't mind the joke anymore, and just go with it. but it's wrong- he should correct everyone and put an end to it. and yet, he doesn't. does he, maybe, like people referring to you as his girlfriend?

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who grows up to be a fine specimen of the male sex

and you, along with everyone else in the neighbourhood, are awed by his curly hair and chiselled features. he doesn't let everyone get close to him, owing to his shy nature, but you're fortunate enough to still remain in his closest circle, even after he graduates from school and joins a music production course in college. the age gap between the two of you feels lesser and lesser as you both grow up.

when you join the same college as him, he becomes your guardian angel in college. from giving you tours in the college to getting you involved with societies and the joys of dorm life, the two of you are again always together. except, his sister enrolled in a different university so unfortunately, you have to bear a long-distance friendship now. it is a comfort, still, that vernon is right here.

the roles are slightly reversed now. although vernon's still lost in daily life- losing track of time and place often and hoping for your guidance- he takes a more proactive role in supporting you in other, important matters.

like how he drives you to the interview of your first internship. you leave the office crying, and he pulls you into a hug. two weeks later, when you receive an acceptance offer letter, he hugs you close again. "i had said so," he tells you when he buys you ice cream as a treat.

like how he ensures you get in touch with the top seniors from your major so that you can prepare your notes well. "how do you even know him?" you ask him after he introduces you to one such senior. "oh, i see him around." "is he your friend?" "no, but he's not not my friend either."

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who also sees you fall in love for the first time in college

it's with a senior he introduced you to, youngjae, and he regrets the decision completely. he had introduced you to him because of his academic merit, but beyond that, he knew youngjae was up to no good. a playboy through and through- he would break your heart the second the chase dies out.

he ends up spending lesser and lesser time with you these days because of how you go everywhere with your new crush now. "has he asked you out yet?" vernon raises a brow at you when the two of you meet again in front of the dorms. "not yet," the blush is clear on your cheeks, as your eyes lit up. "but i'm sure youngjae will, soon! we've been texting a lot, nonie. i must thank you for introducing him to me, of course." you giggle, but vernon's face doesn't reflect your happiness. he's still confused about how to feel about this entire affair.

rationally, he should not be confused. this is protectiveness he feels. he felt the same way towards his sister when she started dating her current partner. it's worse in this case because he knows your heart will be broken. so it's just his instinct that's making him more protective.

but it's not just protectiveness, he knows. he knows it when you're going to parties with youngjae on your arm. he knows it when you laugh too loudly at any of youngjae's stupid jokes. he knows it when people start referring to you as youngjae's girlfriend.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who is the person you run to when you find out that youngjae has been sleeping with someone else all this time

vernon doesn't ask or say anything. he simply sighs when he sees the tears streaming down your face, and pulls you into a bone-crushing hug against his chest. and he lets you cry into his sweater, all snot and wetness.

but it's the best thing he could do for you, and you wouldn't trade this for anything else. you know he understands in the silence, and you don't leave his side all night, as he plays soft jazz on his phone and you both sit on the bed in his dorm room in silence. his roommate also surprisingly doesn't question it, the two of you sharing earphones and sitting on the bed without saying anything, all night.

the next morning, you finally come to terms with your grief, having overcome the shock, and tell vernon everything. thankfully, he doesn't say, i knew it. he only says, "he never deserved you anyway. such a fool."

when you go to the cafeteria for lunch, as both your and vernon's classes start after lunch that day, vernon's hand is around your shoulders. every person in the cafeteria turns to look at the two of you, even youngjae. he steps up to you to talk to you, but you don't even look at him and walk straight past him. the two of you finally reach a table where your friends are sitting, who you'd texted earlier about the situation. they all sympathise with you, consoling you and genuinely making you feel better. but the best medicine is the weight of vernon's warm hand on your back throughout lunch time.

soon the entire college gets to know about the situation. it's comforting to know that no one's standing up in defense of youngjae and everyone's isolating him for his shameless actions. when vernon walks you to your classroom after lunch, youngjae confronts you again, forcefully making you stop in your way. when he sees that his pleas and apologies aren't melting you in any way, his eyes flare up with rage, and he looks to vernon instead.

"and what the hell are you doing? why are you walking around with her like that?"

"because she's my girlfriend, that's why."

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who takes everyone by shock by his declaration

of course, this new addition to the ongoing situation spreads like wildfire through all students also. and it has the same effect it has on them as it does on you. vernon almost laughs at the way your cheeks flare up and your lips purse into a pout. it's hauntingly similar to the incident eleven years ago, except vernon knows he's not saying it without understanding this time.

"what was that for?" you ask him later. "i had to do it. you know he would beg you to come back if i'd moved away." "well, i would be strong and resist him." vernon's glare makes your words falter. "are you sure?" "vern-" "okay just play along with it for a few days. will help you forget him faster."

you spend that night thinking about the events of the day, and you finally realise that the burning sensation in your chest is not sadness. that seems to have run out totally after your crying session with vernon last night. then what is this feeling?

you don't get time to yourself the next few days- when everyone's bombarding you with where when and how you and vernon got together. "it- it just happened," is what you say. and vernon doesn't clarify it either- so it just goes along.

and everyone actually accepts it immediately. no one gives it a second thought, no one needs a longer explanation. "oh we kinda saw it coming," one of your friends say. well, you certainly did NOT see it coming.

apparently, him playing along with it means he has his hands constantly on you, either looped through your arm, or a touch at the small of your back, or his fingers weaving through your hair. it also means him spending every moment outside class with you. soon, he becomes a permanent feature in your friend group, and your and his friends merge to become a big group sitting together at lunch, and creating an endless cacophony.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who tells you that you can end this play-acting after a few weeks and the initial gossip has died down

but every weekend, his heart thumps in his chest as he anticipates when you'll tell him that you want to end the ruse now finally and you're sick of him. he knows he's putting on a very bold face in front of you, but inside? god, he's all nervous putty. he knows he's taking big risks- risks which are more likely to not pay off than actually succeed. but he can't not take the chance when it's right in front of him.

for these fifteen days, vernon lives his dream into reality. before this, he had no idea it would make him so happy to be your boyfriend. even if it's a fake relationship. is this what he's been yearning for all these months when he's seen you going around with another man? is this why he detests youngjae even more than he deserves for his faults?

he doesn't want to think too much about why he's so enthusiastic about doing this. he doesn't want to understand why his heart is fluttering all the time and he's losing focus on everything- even things he's usually very concentrated in, like music or films. he doesn't want to think of why his heart is thumping in his chest whenever the weekend comes around.

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who invites you over for movie night to his dorm on sunday

"you'll break up with him now." you tell yourself, looking into the mirror, even as your body moves with a mind of its own. you're wearing a silk dress that's completely not appropriate for a friendly movie night. you're even tying up your hair in a ponytail because vernon once said that hairstyle looks good on you.

"you will draw it to an end for your own good." that's what you tell yourself, but what is your own good? kinda blurry at the moment, because a big part of you doesn't want to let go of vernon. you know that ending things today will have an impact on your closeness- but you can't figure out why it is that you're so worried about letting go of vernon. is it because you don't want to lose a friend, or is it because you've found your ideal man in him?

because one thing you can't lie to even yourself is how perfect vernon would be, hypothetically, as a boyfriend, especially to you. he knows everything about you- your coffee order so that he always knows what to bring from the cafeteria, your menstrual cycle so that he can remind you to buy pads when your week's due, your workout routine so that he knows exactly where to massage that night while the two of you chill.

he's everything youngjae could never dream of being. you're in fact glad youngjae did cheat on you. you've been so blind for stooping down so low when you have had a perfect man around you for all your life. and yet, you don't know if these feelings are just the butterflies from his attention through this make-believe relationship, or whether you've really lost your heart to him. and in fear that it's the second, in which case you're going to regret the steps you plan to take tonight, you make haste to vernon's dorm room to tell him to break up.

"you will tell him to end this right now." you tell yourself when you knock on his door. but when he opens the door wearing his old, ratted t-shirt that you've seen him wear since high school, his hair messy over his forehead, and his pink lips plump, you forget all about breaking up and instead just go in with him, taking his hand as he helps you sit down on his dorm bed and sets up the movie on his laptop. when he gets under the blanket, his body unimaginably close to yours, the exposed skin of your legs graze against his hands and you can see the way he gulps.

"you have to tell him now, y/n!" your brain screams to you, so you blurt out. "vernon, i have something to tell you." vernon moves his hand away from you and sits up. "me too. but you go first." he doesn't break eye contact, and you can see the way he's biting his lip and fidgeting with his hands. symptoms of nervousness, you recall from your psych class. why is he nervous? "no, you go first, nonie."

he raises his eyebrows for confirmation and you nod. then he gulps before answering, "i like you, y/n." "what?" "i know i- fuck, i swear i'm not a creep. i swear i didn't start this fake ruse with you because i like you. hell, i didn't even know then that i liked you." "then, when?" " i realised it last night. but i think it wasn't even like a epiphany per se. just a realisation.... and a way to label some feelings that have been occupying my heart recently."

dear god, help me. you cry out silently for help, because fuck, he looks so earnest right now. so soft, so genuine, his words stunted with how fast he's speaking and his eyes a little dazzled in that on-brand look only vernon can pull off as cute. "nonie, are you serious?" he nods his head fervently. "i am. and i know this may be overwhelming, so you don't have to respond to me right now. but if you do want to reject me, you can tell me right away, i won't be-"

thinking about best friend's older brother!vernon who didn't see this coming in any of his mind's versions of how his confession would go

but it's certainly the best version when he feels your lips press against his. you pull away almost instantly, and he asks, "y/n?" you don't reply immediately, your eyes cast downwards to your hands. "y/n-ah? did you mean that?" after a long pause, he finally hears you squeak back, "yes, nonie. i- i wanted to try it and see what it felt like."

oh. so it was an experiment. well, that's manageable- although vernon doesn't think he'll ever forget the way your lips feel. "y/n-ah if you want to leave, you can. you don't have to-" but you don't let him continue. you kiss him again, pressing your wet, warm, soft lips against his own, and his hands find their way towards you. one of his hands settle on your cheek, and the other on your waist, and he pulls you nearly on top of him as he kisses you back hungrily.

they're all chaste kisses, until you open your mouth slightly and he takes the opportunity to let his tongue roam inside your mouth. but he underestimates you, you quickly suck on his tongue, making him moan out as he pulls back, breathless. "y/n, you've gotta tell me what this means. i can't keep kissing you without any clue of your feelings."

"do you need me to say it aloud, nonie?" "yes? please!" you pout slightly, as if offended by his demand. but then you whisper, "i like you too, nonie. i just wanted to see if my suspicions are real or just a figment of my imagination because you're so perfect." "perfect? har-" "no, you are. and that's not a recent discovery of mine. i've known it forever. you are too perfect to be real, vernon."

and that does it for vernon. the floodgates of his heart burst open, and all the feelings he'd been suppressing for so long flood into his system. it makes him warm and tingly all over, and he leans it to cup your cheeks. "you're the one who's perfect for me y/n-ah. i wasn't wrong all those years ago, you know. you are the woman i've always wanted to marry." you giggle shyly and hide your face in his chest, and vernon knows he's found his soulmate in you.

[misseviehyde]

HEARTLESS

"Are you sure you are talking about MY Mom?" gasped Kathryn as she stared at the two older women in front of her in horror. "You're claiming that Rebecca Gray was the biggest bully at this school? Really?"

Kathryn was standing in Lauderdale High's cavernous main hall. Tables and chairs had been set out and banners proclaiming 'Class of 2000' had been strewn everywhere. Kathryn was dressed in a smart white blouse and black skirt. Her plain brown hair was pulled up in a bun over her head.

As a current student at the school and the student president, she was both fulfilling her duty, but also earning a bit of extra money helping to serve drinks and snacks to the guests at this reunion. When Principal Saunders had asked her, she'd been keen to help. She'd also been curious to meet her Mom's classmates and find out the gossip.

Her Mom NEVER spoke about her school days and to Kathryn's disapointment she had even refused to come to this reunion, claiming that she had been bullied at school and didn't want to attend. But now, Kathryn was learning that is was HER Mom that had been the bully.

Mary and Angelina shook their heads slightly in disapproval. "No, we're saying that bitch Beckie Gray was the actual devil AND the biggest bully this school ever saw. She was a stuck up bitch who used her pretty looks and position as Head Cheerleader to torment everyone. Your Mom made our lives absolute Hell."

"B...but that can't be right," boggled Kathryn. "My Mom is a really nice person. She's the sweetest, most caring person I've ever met."

The two women scoffed. "Well your Mom must be a very different person to who she was when we were at school. You seem nice enough dear, but I'm afraid your Mom ruined our lives. No offense, but we'd rather talk to some of our old friends, not the daughter of our worst bully. Goodbye."

The two women drifted off to talk to someone else, leaving Kathryn alone. Putting down the tray of glasses she was carrying she walked over to the door and exited into the corridor. She just needed a minute to get her head together.

Walking over to the water fountain, head reeling, she splashed her face. The cool water brought her back to her senses. She was being crazy, just because two silly old women accused her Mom of something didn't mean anything. They were probably just confused.

Kathryn pictured her Mom. Rebecca was a fairly average looking woman, handsome perhaps, but not pretty. She was shy and bookish, she worked at a pharmacy and was interested in classical music. Her Mom had zero interest in sports and the thought of her as a cheerleader was actually laughable. Kathryn couldn't reconcile the thought of the gentle kind woman she knew with the image being painted by her Mom's classmates. It didn't make sense.

"Hey are you okay?"

Kathryn looked up to see her best friend Pippa looking concerned. She was here helping tonight too. Behind her thick glasses and sensible haircut, Pippa had kind brown eyes and a keen intellect. She was always looking out for her friends and had noticed Kathryn leaving the room.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little weirded out. Let's get this gig over with, I wanna go home and talk to my Mom about something."

Pippa gave her a reassuring hug and the two girls returned to the Hall.

***

"Excuse me, did I hear right that you're Beckie Gray's daughter?"

Kathryn was tidying up some empty glasses, the reunion nearly over, when the man approached her. She'd seen him a few times that night looking oddly at her. He looked to be her Mom's age and had a slightly shy, embarrased look about him.

"Errrr, yeah," she muttered feeling slightly concerned. She glanced around and saw Pippa was nearby which was a little reassuring but still... where was this going? What did this weirdo want?

"Listen, I knew your Mom at school. In fact I guess you could say, I was her stalker. It's embarrasing to admit it now but I was totally obssesed with her. She drove me nuts and she seemed to enjoy tormenting and teasing me. She was a real bitch you know."

Kathryn coloured, "My Mom is NOT a bitch. I wish everyone would stop saying that!"

"Ohhh errr, of course, I'm sorry. Look - I just wanted to talk to you quickly and to give you something of hers. You see, just before we all graduated I stole something from your Mom. She always used to wear this really sexy looking heart necklace. There was just something so hot about it. The way it nestled in her big ti... errr anyway.

One night at a party she was really drunk and your Mom passed out on the sofa. I hate to admit it, but before her friends took her home to sleep it off, I stole the necklace. I heard she was really fucking mad about it at first. Strange thing was after a couple of days, she almost seemed like a new person. I heard she really calmed down and got on with her life after that.

Look, I've kept it all these years, but now I just want rid of the damn thing. Please will you give it back to her?"

The man quickly shoved a small black jewel case into her hands and before Kathryn could ask any further questions he hurried away.

***

"What was THAT all about?" asked Pippa curiously as the two girls finished storing the boxes away and began switching off the lights. "Who was that guy?"

"I don't know, it's weird," mused Kathryn examining the little jewel case in her hand. "All night people have been telling me at school my Mom was some sort of horrible bitch. They keep telling me she was a cheerleader, had big boobs, used to get off on being cruel to people... but it doesn't sound anything like the woman I know. I just thought it was some mistake, but then this guy gave me some necklace she always used to wear, and now I'm wondering if it's somehow connected?"

"How could it be?" asked Pippa.

"I don't know, it really doesn't make any sense." Hesitantly Kathryn flipped open the jewel case and lifted out the necklace inside. It was very fine and beautiful. A stylish silver heart glittering with jewels on a fine gold chain... it looked really pretty.

"Wow, that's soooo pretty," gasped Pippa. The other girls lips parted, her hands almost reaching unconsciously towards the necklace, her breathing heavy and her eyes shining. "Can I try it on?"

Kathryn felt a sudden stab of annoyance and irritation... no almost HATRED for her friend. She saw a greedy little troll reaching out to take what wasn't hers, a pathetic little bitch who dared to presume she could touch Kathryn's property. She snatched the necklace back and grasped it to her bosom.

"NO!" snarled Kathyrn, her eyes full of sudden malice. Pippa recoiled in horror at her friends tone and physical posture. It looked like Kathryn was going to attack her.

Then the moment passed and Kathryn blinked in surpise. "Woah, I'm sorry Pippa. I don't know what came over me there. That was weird."

"It's okay, it's been a long night," sulked Pippa, still staring at Kathryn's hand.

Pippa's eyes were still drawn to the necklace. Desire still burned in them, but it was muted now.

Put the necklace on.

Kathryn felt rather than heard the voice. She looked down and she felt a sudden thrill as the same desire Pippa had just had ignite in her own heart.

Yesssss. Wear the necklace. Become the new bearer.

Kathryn groaned as a delicious thrill pulsed through her body. She suddenly wanted to gloat. The necklace was HERS and she WAS going to try it on.

That's right. Mommy was bad, but you'll be even badder. It's been so long since I had a wearer. I can't wait to make you evil. You're going to make such an evil fucking bitch.

Kathryn's breathing was heavy, her nipples were hard, her skin was tingling. A slutty smirk twitched on her lips as she began to lift the necklace up over her head. Her pussy was wet with anticipation.

Pippa's eyes were locked onto the necklace. Kathryn wanted to laugh, it felt so good to be the one and lord it over the other girl.The one? What did that mean? Where were these thoughts coming from?

Mmmmh, all that mattered was the necklace.

Yesssss, you... are... mine....

Kathryn's nails began to tingle and extend, her hair began to turn silkier... her breasts ached deliciously. Just one more inch and...

"Girls, are you still tidying up? What's taking so long?"

The spell was suddenly broken by the voice of Principal Saunders. Kathryn gasped, suddenly feeling weirdly self conscious holding the heart necklace over her head. Blushing she quickly pushed the necklace back into the black jewel case and she slid it into her school satchel.

"Sorry Principal Saunders, we're all done here."

Pippa blushed too. "Woah, that was weird Kathryn. I felt really weird when you had that necklace out. I don't like this, something is wrong."

"I agree. Don't worry I'll get to the bottom of it Pippa. Trust me."

***

"Mom, when you were at school, did you used to own a heart necklace or something?"

In all the years she had known her Mom, Kathryn had never seen her Mom act like the way she did when she mentioned the necklace. It was like her Mom was a different person.

Rebecca's breathing suddenly became heavier, her eyes more intense. She turned quickly to her daughter an eager but terrified expression on her face.

"Why? Did someone find it? Where is it? If you know where it is you'd tell me right?"

"Mom, of course I would. No I don't know where it is," she lied. "What's going on, why are you acting weird?"

Rebecca began to cry.

"I was worried this would happen if you went to that stupid reunion. Listen baby, you have to be very careful. When I was younger I made a terrible mistake. I fell under the control of a very evil object. A beautiful silver heart. When I wore it, it gave me everything I thought I wanted. Beauty, power, popularity... but it made me heartless and cruel."

Rebecca took Kathryn's hands. Her grip was intense, almost crushing. She looked deep into her daughters eyes and Kathryn could see a mixture of longing and fear in her Mom's eyes.

"You have to understand, if I saw that necklace again, I don't know if I could control myself. To wear it again, to be hot and bitchy. To be a tight little evil whore who got everything she wanted. Even now I fantasize about it sometimes. Somehow I lost the necklace at school. It was stolen just before I graduated. At first I was consumed by rage, I tore the town up looking for it... but as the evil power faded, I became me again. I realised what it had done to me, who it had made me. I moved on with my life and hoped never to see it again."

Kathryn's heart was thudding. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Once someone wears the necklace, they become transformed. Then it's too late. They have the power to dominate others, make them do whatever they want. If someone wears that accursed thing, you'll never be able to get it off them unless they are asleep or unconscious. They will become totally evil, heartless and all powerful. I got lucky, somehow the necklace was taken from me and whoever removed it must have been immune to its transformative effects... a male perhaps? Not that men can resist the wearer when she has it on, they become total slaves. There was this one boy who was totally addicted to me, I made him do terrible things to please me... oh God I was such an evil bitch..."

Rebecca began to cry, great wracking sobs. Kathryn hugged her Mom.

"It's okay, no one has found the necklace, it must be gone. Someone mentioned it to me is all and now I understand why everyone said you were a bully. I'm glad you're free of it Mom, I'm glad."

"Promise me if you ever do find it, you'll throw it into a river or bury it deep underground. It's too dangerous to keep around."

"I promise Mom. I swear it."

***

Kathryn patted the side of her satchel, feeling the shape of the jewel case where she had left it yesterday. She couldn't stop thinking about the necklace.

She and her Mom had talked long into the night about the evil necklace and her terrible past. Kathryn had been horrified to hear about the things her Mom had done... but to her shame also excited.

As her Mom described her life as an evil slutty bullying cheerleader, Kathryn had found it hard not to imagine herself in her Mom's place.

"I used to have tits. Huge big bouncing tits. My hair was blonde and my body tanned and super attractive. I had long sexy nails and hips for miles. I must have fucked every hot boy in school, ruined every loving relationship. I bullied my friends and forced everyone to worship me. The worst bit was it made me cum so hard to be bad. I was totally addicted to being evil, my body responded to being a bully by rewarding me with pleasure. I was becoming more and more evil, the necklace wasn't far off corrupting me entirely."

As her Mom had spoken, Kathryn had imagined those huge bolt on tits on her own chest. She imagined laughing like a horny bitch as she pumped a huge black cock in each manicured hand, cum blasting out to coat her tits as she moaned and giggled.

She imagined bouncing her tight pussy on a throbbing cock whilst the girl whose man she was fucking cried in the corner. She imagined squeezing her perfect body into tight outfits, making all the men stare. She imagined being the Alpha girl, surrounded by her flunkies in the cheer squad. She imagined dragging Sarah O'Connel, one of her friends, into the girls toilet and ordering her girls to flush her head in the loo.

She imagined how hard she would squirt and how good her pussy would feel as she put on the necklace. She needed it so badly.

Put me on... now you know what I can do... don't you want it even more?

Kathryn's breathing was heavy, her hand almost inside her satchel. "Nooooo, I have to resist," she hissed. It would be so easy to take out the jewel case and put on the heart necklace. So easy to feel her small tits swell up and her body transform. So easy to laugh and gloat as she became an evil whore and embraced the corruption that was her birthright. She imagined long nails emerging from her fingers, her lips swelling up and becoming bitchy, her face that of a Goddess. She imagined how good it would feel to be evil and spoiled. She imagined two massive breasts bouncing on her chest, creamy and white, a massive cock between them as she jerked off a boy and made him her slave.

Yesssss, you can't resist much longer. Soon you won't be Kathryn anymore. You will be Kat Gray, the eviliest bitch this school has ever known.

Kathryn forced the intrusive thoughts out of her head with difficulty. "No. Tonight after school you're getting buried in the woods. You aren't going to corrupt anyone else. I'm doing this for my Mom... I have to be strong."

Forcing her hand away from her satchel she walked into school.

***

"Kathryn, are you okay? You seem weird," asked Pippa concernedly as the two girls got ready for gym. They were about to practice basketball and Kathryn had hardly spoken for the last twenty minutes.

"I'm okay Pippa, I'm just tired."

They walked down the corridor towards the gym. "Oh no, not now," suddenly gasped Pippa.

"What's the matter?" asked Kathryn in concern.

"My period, I can't believe it. I must have got my dates mixed up. I haven't got any pads with me either."

Kathryn hugged Pippa. "Don't worry, there are some in my satchel. Go and grab one, I'll cover for you."

"Oh thanks babe," said Pippa gratefully. "I won't be long." Kathryn waited in the corridor whilst her friend went back into the changing rooms.

Kathryn shook her head ruefully. It wasn't like Pippa to make a mistake like that. Perhaps she had been distracted by the evil neckace last night as well and it was affecting her too.

Wait...

The necklace... her satchel!

She turned and dashed, her heart hammering in fear as she burst into the changing rooms to see Pippa lowering the necklace around her head.

"MMMMMmmhh, oh MY FUCKING GOD YESSSSSS!"

Pippa moaned in pleasure, her body arching as the necklace slid comfortably around her neck. Her bones cracked and popped as her tiny body expanded and her pale skin tanned and smoothed. Evil power flooded into her, turning the sweet little dork into the ultimate bitch.

"Yessss, fucking give it to MEEEE," she gloated, her dorky hair lengthening and turning blonde as she tore off her glasses and crushed them beneath her feet. "Yessss FUCKING DO IT!"

"No! Pippa, take off the necklace," screamed Kathryn, but Pippa just laughed as her roots turned blonde and her she shot up to tower over her former friend.

"Never. This is MINE now. Mmmmmmh, I feel so fucking EVIL. Hahaha you dumb bitch, this feels SO fucking GOOOD! I can't believe you left the necklace in your bag, I just wanted to look at it, but then I held it and I knew what it could do. I WANT IT!"

Pippa pushed out her chest and laughed as her small non-existent tits began to swell. Her clothing creaked and tore as two huge boobs, nearly as big as the basketballs behind her swelled enticingly out of her body. "Mmmmmh, check out THESE babies you fucking loser," she laughed, grabbing her tits and feeling the satisfying weight of them. "Perfect for fucking big strong cocks."

Pippa's hair now extended down to her ass, which was now rounded and firm. Her hips had cracked out and her legs were long and sexy. She looked like a supermodel and as her clothing transformed to suit her new body - it was clear she was into wearing designer clothes now.

Pippa flexed long white nails, enjoying the feeling of the claws on her fingers. She ran her hands over her perfect body, lingering on her crotch where her tight new pussy was throbbing with lust.

"Mmmmh, this could have been you loser. All you had to do was wear the necklace and you could have been a Goddess. Instead I get to be the bitch and I LOVE it."

Pippa's once kind eyes were now mean and cruel, her perfect lips in a permanent bitchy smile. The heart necklace bounced above her big tits mockingly.

She strode forward. She towered over Kathryn now and it was clear she was twice as strong. "Kneel loser."

Kathryn felt her knees give way. She couldn't resist this Goddess. She knew instinctively that if Pippa ordered her to throw herself from the top of the gym apparatus, she would now. She shivered in fear hoping that wasn't what Pippa had planned.

"Tell me everything you know about this necklace. Tell me everything about your Mom."

Kathryn obeyed. She couldn't resist.

Pippa's lips twitched into a wicked smile. "Your Mom sounded hot when she was a bitch, I wonder if we can't bring back the good old days after all... but first we need to make a few... adjustments."

Kathryn whimpered as her former friend advanced on her.

***

Rebecca gasped as the door to her house opened and the most beautiful girl she had ever seen walked in like she owned the place. Behind her, crawled her daughter Kathryn on all fours.

The blonde girl had attached a dog collar to Kathryn's neck and was now walking her with a dog lead. Her daughters hair had been closely cropped short and she had been crying. A pair of fake dog ears had besn rammed onto her head. Rebecca felt a surge of rage at the sight.

Then she saw the heart necklace round the girls neck and her breath stopped short.

"Yes. You know what this is don't you? Hello Rebecca. It's me Pippa. I see you recognise my beautiful necklace, but I have changed since we last met."

"Noooooo," groaned Rebecca backing away as the blonde girl advanced menacingly. "Pippa you have to take it off."

"Hahah. Never. Mmmmh, that's right loser. The power is mine now and your stupid daughter is my little pet. She's been telling me all about what a bitch you used to be and it really turned me on. I've decided to bring Beckie back. You can't have the necklace, but with a bit of programming I'm sure I can bring your evil side back and then you can help me make Kathryn's life a misery."

Rebecca gasped, she couldn't believe how evil Pippa had become. She trembled in fear.

"Don't try to hide it 'Beckie'. I can see your nipples getting hard at the thought. You loved being an evil bitch and with my help you can be again. A little plastic surgery, you could even have big tits again. Now repeat after me, I am an evil bitch and I love being mean."

"Nnnnnooooo," gasped Rebecca, her nipples suddenly alarmingly hard and her body throbbing with pleasure.

"Yessssss, you want it," hissed Pippa moving closer, her intoxicating perfume and irrestible corrupting presence now focused on Rebecca. "You are a bitch. You're a fucking bitch and you want to be evil again. Say it."

Rebecca moaned, memories of the evil slut she had once been rising to the surface. She had loved being a cruel, teenage slut and having it all. Losing the necklace had been the worst thing to ever happen to her. She DID want it. She had been fighting it all these years, but now she knew she coudn't resist.

"Yessss, I am a bitch. An evil bitch."

"No Mom! Don't," cried Kathryn causing Pippa to laugh.

"Keep barking little doggy, it's too late. Beckie will soon be back."

Kathryn watched in horror as her Mom's eyes rolled up into her head. Her lips moved, repeating the mantra Pippa bad given her.

"I am an evil bitch, I am Beckie."

Her Mom seemed to be cumming.

"Ugghhh fuckkkk yessss. I am an evil bitch, I am Beckie. I am an evil bitch..."

Pippa smiled. "Yesssss that's it. Let Beckie come back, let her take control. You are a bitch just like me."

"Fuckkkkk yessssss I'm a mmmmmmh bitch."

Kathryn cried as she watched her Mom shudder and orgasm in pleasure. It was too late now.

Pippa's face was gloating and cruel, she was aroused by the corruption. She loved to see it. Leaning over, she whispered something in Beckie's ear.

Beckie's eyes rolled back down and she looked at Kathryn with cold disdain. "Mmmh, you're so right Pippa. My daughter does need training. I will deal with it."

Pippa handed the lead over to Beckie and patted Kathryn on the head.

"I'll see you at school loser. I'm going to have sooooo much fun in my new body and with my new life. I am so getting fucked tonight. I'll leave you with your Mom. I'm sure she'll have you well in hand soon enough."

Laughing she walked away with a clop of heels as Beckie looked down with a sneer at her daughter. "Time for your training Kathryn. You've been a bad girl but now you will serve Pippa and I."

Kathryn wanted to cry, but she knew it would do no good. Both her bullies were now completely... heartless.

THE END