#I think everyone else has forgotten what it feels like to be a kid and feel as if the world is against you

[emometalhead]

.

[not-neverland06]

forgotten promises

pt two of broken promises (I know I'm so creative with names)

bodyguard!logan howlett x fem!runaway reader

a/n: SMUT 18+ MDNI they, like, never use protection (don't be silly, sheathe your willy) but I’d like to make it 100% clear now that she has a magic uterus and there will be absolutely NO baby-making. Just rocking unprotected sex 😎👍 If you’re tagged in this, it does not mean that I am permanently adding you to my taglist. It just means I saw you in my comments/reblogs/inbox asking for a part two and this was the easiest way to let you know I made one. If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask.  Summary: Life on the road isn't exactly glamorous. Cramped spaces and too many cheap motels have you and Logan at each other's throats. You feel eyes tracking you everywhere you go but you're afraid to tell him, afraid it will be the end of the road for the both of you. One cheap bar and an explosion later and your whole life is flipped upside down.

“What are you doing?”

You glance over Logan’s shoulder at the register. The man behind it isn’t looking at either of you, just disinterestedly scrolling through his phone. 

“Isn’t this what you do?” You ask, motioning to the pack of beef jerky you’re stuffing down your jacket. 

Logan scoffs and shakes his head. “No, kid.” He takes the bag from you and rolls his eyes. 

“Well, then how do you pay for this stuff?”

“Normally, with the money I get from my jobs. But your dad wasn’t too forthcoming with my last paycheck.”

You feel that familiar burning churn of guilt roiling around in your gut. You’ve definitely added another complication to his life and it makes you feel like nothing more than a burden sometimes. “Oh, Logan, I’m sorry.”

Logan glances down at you. He gives you that familiar appeasing look, squeezing you closer, and drags you towards the register. He tosses the snacks and drinks onto the counter. The guy just barely glances up at you both. 

“Will that be all?” He asks in a tone that says he could care less. 

“Yeah,” you answer, eyes drifting towards the magazine rack. Your face is plastered on the cover of a cheap tabloid. 

LOCAL POLITICIANS DAUGHTER STILL MISSING

Exclusive interview with family on PG. 6

Your eyes go wide and you turn your face further into Logan’s chest. He gives you a confused look before his eyes are snagged by the same thing that caught your attention. 

“Why don’t you go wait in the truck?” You nod and slip out of his hold, being mindful to keep your face away from the security camera near the front. 

That keeps happening. You hadn’t thought you would have made news, but your father was making this a part of his campaign. Claiming you’d been taken by a mutant bodyguard and that he’s been praying for your safe return. “Experts” have been claiming that with no ransom demanded you’re being turned into a message for anyone who goes against mutants. 

Now, mutants despise you and everyone else thinks you’re a martyr. In a few years, you’re sure you’ll be turned into some true crime documentary where people you’ve never met before are crying over your disappearance. 

You slide into the truck and let out a deep sigh. You’d thought running away would be freeing. But even a hundred miles from him, you can still feel the cold grip of your father’s hand around your throat. 

“Twenty on pump seven,” Logan tosses the cash on the counter, eyes drifting to you in the truck. It was instinct at this point, always keeping an eye on you. Especially since one of your father’s more fanatic supporters had spotted you in a shitty diner a week ago. They’d called the cops and tried to bar you and Logan from leaving. 

It hadn’t gone over well for him. 

He’d been trying to keep you a little more hidden since then, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d gotten you out of that house to show you what real life was like, to give you a taste of freedom. 

He felt like he was no better than your father, keeping you cooped up and covered constantly. 

When the kid in front of him doesn’t say anything, Logan clears his throat. He gives him a quizzical look but the boy’s eyes are stuck on the door. 

“I swear I know her,” he mutters. Logan’s eyes drift towards the TV behind the counter and he sees an old news story of you. They’re using the footage of the acid attack, claiming you’ve always been the mutant movement’s target. 

“Can I get twenty on pump seven,” Logan repeats, voice firm. The kid finally looks at him and whatever expression Logan is wearing is enough for him to finally start moving. 

The second the receipt is in his hand he’s rushing out the door. He doesn’t know how long it’s going to take that dumbass to piece two and two together but he can’t risk dawdling. 

He fills the tank up, eyes scanning the gas station the entire time. He’s had a cloying sense of paranoia ever since the incident in the diner. He knows that at some point this little run of yours is going to come to an end. 

He doesn’t know if it’ll end with cops finding the two of you. Or if you’re going to realize the real world isn’t all that fun and leave him behind. He knows that a girl like you, one who's used to the finer things, is never going to be satisfied by the life he can offer. 

But he’s hoping that you come to your senses later rather than sooner. He’s enjoying traveling with you a lot more than he wants to admit. 

He gets in the truck, starts it up, and glances over at you. You smile, the smile that makes him feel things he doesn’t like admitting to himself or you. 

“All good?” You ask. 

He nods, driving off without a word because he doesn’t want to tell you the truth. Doesn’t want to admit what you both know to be a fact. The time you have together has an expiration date and he’s worried it’s creeping closer. 

Logan’s inside some shitty roadside motel. Whatever he’s talking about with the owner is clearly getting heated. You can see the way the anger’s growing on his face. His body is tensed up and he looks like he’s five seconds away from leaping over the counter and taking the greasy man leering at him down. 

There’s a final word exchanged between them and then Logan is storming back towards the truck. He slams the door closed so hard you’re surprised the windows don’t shatter. Normally, you sleep in the trailer. It’s not always the warmest or coziest, but you make it work. 

It’s too cold out tonight to do that and Logan doesn’t have a spare tank for the heating. He’d thought he’d had enough for a cheap room for tonight, but clearly, he doesn’t. There’s a tense silence in the truck as you mentally debate saying anything to him. 

His fists are wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel you can hear it creaking. You shift, sitting up straighter in your seat and uncurling your legs. There’s a stiffness to your joints that has you groaning. It’s involuntary, ripped out of you simply because you’ve been sitting for too long. 

It catches Logan’s attention and he glances over at you. There’s a resigned sort of guilt on his face and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. He’s used to this type of lifestyle, and sometimes you think he’s embarrassed to share it with you. 

You’d never judge him for roadside motels or living off cheap gas station meals. You know you were privileged living up with the wealth you did. But there is something infinitely more satisfying about being poor and happy than there ever was being rich and miserable.

“Look, kid,” he lets out a heavy sigh and you mentally prepare yourself for what you’ve been expecting. You were a fun time, a nice ride, but you’re becoming a burden and he can’t deal with it anymore. 

You let your nails dig into the thin skin of your palms so you can attempt to ground yourself. “I need to make some money tonight, so I just need you to bear with me for a while.”

Like there is every time he doesn’t boot you to the curb, a relieved rush of air expels from your chest almost violently.  “Okay,” you say tentatively, the word dragging out while you try and understand his meaning. 

“I just,” he stops and it looks like he’s struggling to find the words to say to you. You wait patiently for him to finish, or try to at least. “There’s a bar nearby. I’ll find some work there,” his words are ominous. They give you nothing and convey so much. 

Clearly, he’s hiding something from you. You can tell that much from the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you. He pulls out of the motel’s parking lot and turns the radio on. You’ve learned that's his way of telling you he doesn’t want to talk without being a dick about it. 

You want to respect his space because you still feel like an imposter. But it’s hard. He’s being oddly cagey about this. 

The drive is short but it feels like you’ve been transported to an entirely different town than the one you were in before. He takes only backroads and middle-class homes turn into shady shops with barbed fences. Caged dogs bark at the truck as it drives by and you get a sinking feeling in your gut. 

Perhaps it’s a little classist of you to automatically assume a few low-end homes equate to a bad neighborhood. But instinctually you know something is off about this place. 

He parks in front of a run-down bar. Even from here, you can hear loud shouts and jeering coming from inside. You don’t know what’s being said but they’re certainly passionate. Logan turns towards you, the expression on his face so serious you feel like you’re about to be scolded. 

“I need you to stay here. I won’t be gone long, just an hour at most. But you need to stay in the truck.”

Your jaw gapes and you scoff at him. “Logan, an hour that’s rid-”

He cuts you off with a stern call of your name. Your mouth snaps shut and you narrow your eyes at him, teeth gritting together to keep your tongue at bay. “Stay here, I mean it. Got it?”

You nod and he repeats your name, sounding aggrieved. “Fine,” you huff. “I got it.” He lingers for a moment. You don’t know if he doesn’t trust you or is just reluctant to leave you alone. You’re reluctant to be left alone, especially in a shady dark parking lot like this. But clearly whatever is going on inside is worse than whatever could happen to you out here. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he makes this whole thing sound so grave. It makes your brows furrow and doubt churn in your gut. What could he be doing in there that’s so awful?

He gets out and you watch his form under the flickering street lamps until you can’t see him anymore. You sit quietly in the truck for at least three minutes before you already feel the boredom set in. 

You’d thought you’d be able to last longer. You used to go for hours dissociating at your father’s galas. This is different, though. You’re a little afraid to let your guard down here. 

You try to listen to music but you feel bad wasting his gas so you just turn the truck off and huddle under a blanket in the trailer. You try and let yourself fall asleep but you don’t last long. 

It’s too cold outside to really get a good rest and you can hear people moving around outside the trailer. After about an hour of rolling around and frozen limbs, you figure enough is enough. 

As much as you don’t want to provoke Logan or give him any reason to get rid of you, you can’t stay in here all night. Besides, Logan said he wouldn’t be long, you can always just lie and say you were worried about him. 

Satisfied with your excuse you leave the comfort of your blanket behind and slip into Logan’s jacket. You tuck the truck keys in your pocket and walk out into the snowy night. It’s less cold outside than it was in the trailer, you can see why he wanted a motel room for the night. 

A few people linger by the cars, smoking and muttering to themselves. You slip past them, ignoring the feeling of their eyes burning into your skin. You’re sure it's because you look like you don’t belong here. 

The noise in the bar gets louder the closer you get and it reminds you of the night Logan had snuck you out of the house. But you’d had him to lean on, right now, until you find him, you’re on your own. For all the noise coming from the building, the bar is surprisingly empty. 

Only a few old men are sitting around, drinking beers in silence. The bartender cleans glasses behind the counter, sparing you an odd look before getting back to work. There’s not very far for you to look before you figure out that Logan isn’t anywhere nearby. 

“Excuse me?” The bartender spares you a fleeting glance before barely grunting in greeting. 

The floor underneath you tremors and you glance down at it in surprise. You can hear something going on underneath. You figure that has to be where all the noises are coming from. “I’m looking for someone. Tall, mean as hell, he’s got this hair,” you swoop your hands up by the sides of your head, trying to mimic the odd fluff of Logan’s hair. 

“Downstairs.” You nod and move around the bar, trying to get to the door behind him. He reaches out, grabbing your bicep and stopping you before you can get far. “It's a forty-dollar entrance fee, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrows in confusion and you frown as you dig around in your jacket pockets. You’ve come too far to be deterred now. Ignoring the moral implications, you slip Logan’s wallet out of his jacket and give the man forty dollars. 

He nods towards the door and you give him a weak thank you as you slip past him. Opening the door is like breaking a seal. The noises bombard you almost immediately, so much clearer than they were before. 

You still can’t understand what they’re screaming but there’s a violent atmosphere slipping around you as you head down the stairs. The heady smell of cigars and cigarettes threatens to suffocate you. Your eyes water at the smoke in the air. 

You’d think you’d have gotten used to secondhand smoking after being around Logan, but he’s less inclined to hotbox the car if you’re beside him. The second your feet hit the floor you’re being jostled to the side violently by the people around you. 

It’s nearly impossible to elbow your way through the crowd, but you’re determined to figure out what’s in the middle of the cage that’s got them all excited. You can hear the people around you screaming out bets and numbers you don’t understand. 

For one nauseating moment, you think this might be a dog fighting ring, that Logan gambles on it to earn his money. It makes you want to turn around, to shield yourself from the truth. But this is something he tried to keep hidden from you and you need to know the truth about whoever you’re traveling with. 

You can hear the announcer, but you can’t get close enough to see anything yet. “Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?” There’s a resounding NO! from the crowd that makes you jump. 

A booming voice shouts over the throng of voices, “I’ll take him!” 

“Our savior ladies and gentlemen!” You shove through two men, ignoring the way they complain about how their beer sloshes on their sleeves. 

“Hey-” You glance over your shoulder as one of them reaches for you.  You flick your wrist, sending him and his friend tumbling back into the crowd. You roll your eyes and turn back towards the cage. 

Your eyes widen and so do Logan’s as you finally see what exactly is going on. He’s cage fighting, this is what he’d been so secretive about. Honestly, it’s a relief compared to the brutality you were bracing yourself for. 

You can see his lips starting to form the shape of your name but the man from before is barrelling into his side as the bell goes off. You wince, jumping away from the cage as you hear the meaty impact of his fist against Logan’s face. 

The people near you scream, shouting for Logan’s blood. It’s easy to figure out that he’s been beating everyone he’s gone up against based on some bloody faces in the crowd. It’s smart, easy money. He can always heal, and can never really be beaten, not when he’s literally got fists of steel. 

You’re surprised that no one’s ever caught onto this scam of his. You also wonder why he had been so adamant about you not seeing this. Sure, it’s brutal watching blood spray against the mat. But you don’t care. Besides, he’s ridiculously attractive in just his jeans as he pummels into some guy. 

Maybe that’s not a normal line of thinking. 

You shake your head, shelving that for later as the fight dies down. The man is limp on the mat of the cage and Logan is leaning against the wall, smoking a cigar and pointedly not looking at you. 

You feel that familiar twisting feeling in your stomach and wonder if this was a horrible idea. You should have just stayed in the car like he asked. You’re sure it would have only been another hour of tirelessly rolling around before he came back. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

He tells you so little about himself. If you get a chance to learn more, you’re going to pounce on the opportunity. Maybe it was a violation of his trust. You sincerely doubt that he would ever willingly have revealed this sort of lifestyle to you, though. 

He seems to be under the same misguided intention that you need to be sheltered. It reminds you a little of your father. That might be a cruel comparison but it’s the same suffocating feeling of being kept in the dark to suit their needs. 

The guilt you’d been holding unfurls and blossoms into anger. You find yourself retreating away from the cage and rushing back up the stairs of the bar. You don’t want to watch him fight any longer. You don’t want to look at him. 

You just want him to treat you like an equal. Not like some little girl who’s going to run at the first sign of things getting hard. 

You burst through the door of the bar, ignoring the cold laughter of the bartender behind you. He clearly seemed to think you couldn’t handle a little blood. He wasn’t the only one. 

You’re only a couple of feet from the truck when you hear footsteps loudly stomping through the snow behind you. “What the hell were you doing?” You scoff, unbelieving that he would have the gall to shout at you. 

You whirl around on him and it catches him off guard. His right foot slides against the slush as he tries to stop himself from ramming into you. “I’m not a little girl, Logan! You don’t need to hide stuff like that from me.”

He crosses his arms and glares down at you. “I wasn’t hiding anything,” he insists. But the tone of his voice gives him away. He doesn’t like that he was caught. “I don’t need to tell you jackshit about what I do for money.”

You can’t believe how he sounds right now. Why is he getting so defensive about this? “I don’t care what you do for money, alright. I just don’t get why you felt like I couldn’t know about this.” You hate the way the hurt is audible in your voice. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you try and cover it. 

In the same way, he’s masking his feelings with anger, so are you. Just with less success. Something draws across his face, some emotion you can’t discern. His voice goes cold and quiet as he shoves an envelope full of cash into your hands. 

“Go back to the motel. Get a room.”

He storms past you and walks towards the trailer. You follow after him, slightly dumbfounded by how he’s behaving. He rips his motorcycle out from the back and rolls it into a parking spot. You watch him do all this with your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. 

It’s only when he starts to head back towards the bar that you realize he’s not coming with you. “Logan!” You call out, trailing after him slightly. He barely turns back to face you. “Are you,” the words die on your tongue and you can’t find it in yourself to finish. 

Are you angry?

Are you leaving?

Are you going to ditch me at the next bus stop?

Instead of asking any of your ridiculously pining questions, you turn on your heel and storm towards the truck. You rip the door open with more force than necessary and drive off without looking back at him. But you know he watches, know he keeps an eye on you until he can’t see you anymore. 

Your rides with him are normally silent, but this one feels painfully so. 

You nearly get a room with two beds. But you feel like if you do it will be a horrendous mistake. Reluctantly, you give the man behind the counter enough for a room with one bed large enough for the both of you. 

You’re not exactly excited about sharing a bed with him, not after how he behaved tonight. You grumble to yourself as you drag your bag inside and toss it on the ground. You picture putting up a wall of pillows between the two of you, just to be petty. 

It’s as you’re showering that you realize you might not even have to. He might not come to join you tonight. He won’t know what room you’re in. And he’d made it pretty clear how pissed he was at you for sneaking into the bar. 

Maybe you’ve finally pushed him too far. You’ve been toying with the boundaries of his patience for a while. Little tests to determine whether he truly wants you around simply to have a warm body ready beside him. Or if he wants you because he genuinely cares for you. 

You suppose tonight, whether you want it or not, you’ll finally have the truth. 

The thought keeps you awake. You toss and you turn for hours, fighting with yourself. You should be happy, finally figuring out what’s been haunting you. But you’re not. You’re petrified. You’d rather keep living a lie than finally accept that he truly doesn’t want you. 

You throw the covers off, the scratchy material only further adding to your irritation. You stomp into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind you. You turn on the sink splashing some cool water over your face to try and rid yourself of the warmth lingering under your skin. You don’t know if this feeling of being uncomfortable in your own body is from pent-up anger or anxiety. 

You don’t care. You just want to sleep this night away and pretend it never happened. But, of course, the universe has other plans. The motel door creaks open as you’re hovering over the sink, debating whether or not you’re nauseous enough to throw up. 

You tilt your head slightly towards the sound. Growing up in your house, filtering through rooms like an unheard ghost, allowed you to get good at recognizing footsteps. Logan has finally decided to grace you with his presence. 

You listen to him as he creeps silently across the room, landing on the squeaky bed. You press your ear against the door and can hear the way the sheets rustle and he cusses under his breath. There’s worry staining his voice and you figure you shouldn’t drag this on much longer. 

You open the bathroom door and flip the switch, turning the lamps on like a disappointed mother waiting up for her teenager. You cross your arms mutely and lean against the doorframe as he winces under the sudden light. 

He jumps, just slightly, and glares over at you. “Thought you weren’t here,” he accuses. He tries sounding angry, but you have a sudden rush of clarity in that moment. Where you would normally focus only on him being upset with you, you can see the truth of his concern.

Same as you, he doesn’t know where he stands in this whole situation. You doubt he had a clear plan when he rescued you from your tower like some ridiculous storybook knight. He most likely thought that you left, the same way you thought he would. 

You remain silent, though, still a little too flustered to speak coherently. Instead, you examine him. There are cuts and blood all over his shirt. Splatters of it on his face. Though, you know if you looked there would be no physical evidence of him ever being hurt. 

His brows furrow the longer you stare, a wall building between the two of you. “Kid?” He questions, equal parts worried and defensive. Does he really think you actually give a fuck about him fighting?

You shake your head and walk back into the bathroom. You rustle around in the cabinet underneath the sink until you find a washcloth. Wetting it, you bring it back out to him. You station yourself between his spread legs, holding the cloth between you like a peace offering. 

He looks doubtful as he glances between you and it. Finally, he lets out a rough sigh and simply nods his head. But when he reaches for it you snatch it back, much to his chagrin. You offer him a small smile and tilt his chin up towards you, gently wiping some of the dried blood off his cheeks. 

He doesn’t flinch or hiss away from the less-than-gentle fabric. He stares at you unblinkingly, like if he closes his eyes for a moment he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream. “You don’t have to do this, kid.”

You roll your eyes and crane your neck to get a better look at him. “Would you shut up?” You whisper teasingly. 

His lips quirk slightly and you can see his shoulder slump in relief at the sound of your voice. “So, she can talk.” You can’t help the little laugh that comes out of you. He grins fully at that and his hands come up to rest on your hips. 

His thumbs rub soothing circles along the sides of your waist as his hands dip a little lower. “What are you doing?” Your hand drifts down to his neck to wipe some blood off there as well. 

He shakes his head and shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You lift your gaze to his and your lips fall flat, “Logan-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. In one smooth motion, his hands drop to wrap around your thighs. He lifts you slightly and drops you onto his lap. He grins at the slight huff of surprise that rushes out of you. 

His arms go back to your waist, pulling you closer to him and grinding you a little against him. You bite your lip to stop any noises from escaping. As much as you wouldn’t mind what he’s thinking, you need to talk. 

“Logan,” you scold. 

He smirks and tilts his head patronizingly, “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s not happening,” you tell him firmly, hand still working on cleaning him. 

He sighs and one of his arms drops away from you. He cups your hand in his, stilling your movements and forcing you to meet his gaze. Gently, he takes the cloth from you and tosses it somewhere you can’t see. “I’m fine,” he whispers, eyes searching yours. 

It’s hard meeting his gaze. The worry and anxiety from the night still weigh heavily on your shoulders. He repeats himself, fingers tilting your chin up to face him. “Alright?”

“I don’t care,” the words come rushing out of you before you can stop them. His brows raise in shock and he gives a slight chuckle of amusement. A lump grows in your throat and your eyes grow wide. “Wait, I don’t mean-”

You cut yourself off and rub your hands over your face, trying to get your head on right. Logan’s patient, rubbing your back and clearly trying not to laugh at you. You finally take in a deep breath and face him again. 

“I don’t care about the fighting,” you can see his shoulders tense slightly like he doesn’t believe you. “I don’t care, Logan. You do what you have to survive and I’m not gonna judge you for that.”

“What if I enjoy it?” He cuts you off, tone harsh as he glares down at you. There's experience in how quickly he doubts you, how quickly he tries to get you to change your mind about him.

You wonder how many times he’s been rejected just for being a mutant. You’ve only ever been rejected by one person because only he ever knew. Your father. And that hurt enough for one lifetime. 

You can’t imagine going for as long as he has and constantly being called a monster for something he can’t control. Your brows furrow and you lean into him until your lips are brushing. He remains stiff beneath you but you don’t let it deter you. 

“I don’t care,” you tell him, pressing your lips to his before slowly pulling back. You wait for him to respond, physically or verbally, but he’s still looking at you with that cold unfamiliar gaze. 

You wonder if maybe it was a mistake, to bring it up at all. But just as the thought comes he’s surging forward. His lips catch yours, his hands digging so desperately into your shirt you know it rips. 

Your arms go to his neck, holding onto him so you don’t slip off his lap. You haven't been this close for a few days. You think it might have made you both feel on edge. There’s a relief that comes from not just having sex with him, but also just being intimate and close to one another. 

It’s a reminder that you’re not alone, that there’s someone here beside you to be a partner and a pillar of stability. You’ve never had that before. Someone that you can rely on and trust fully. You don’t think he has either. 

He craves you the same way you do him. Each kiss, every shared breath, is treated like it will be your last. You don’t know when your father will finally catch up to the two of you. You don’t know when the police might finally recognize Logan. 

There’s no definitive future for either of you. It’s a real possibility that this could be your last night together. And neither of you wants to be upset with each other. Because you were never truly mad. You were always just worried. 

Your hands drop to his shirt, dipping to find the holes in it from his fight and ripping at the flimsy fabric until you can just yank it off. He smiles against your lips at the eager way you move atop him. But he can’t tease you, he’s already annoyed with the buttons on your shirt. 

He pulls back, glaring down at the fabric like it's insulting him. Without another word, he slices through it, leaving it in tatters on your shoulder. You grin, shrugging the rest of it off. “That was yours.”

He grips your hips tightly and leaves marks where his fingers are as a reminder that he was here. He flips you over, leaves you breathless as he hovers over you. “I really don’t give a fuck, sweetheart.”

You’re addicted to his voice. How breathy and desperate it is when he’s with you. It’s a level of vulnerability you rarely get to see from him. He can’t hide himself when he’s with you like this. He wants you just as badly as you do him. 

It gives you a confidence rush like no other, makes your ego grow ten times its size. If you can make a man like this fall to his knees from nothing more than a kiss, then you’re capable of a lot more than you give yourself credit for. 

But you don’t want that tonight. You reach for him before he can go much further, grabbing him by his hair and tugging until you know it stings. He nearly fucking moans at your rough touch, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. The green of them has been wholly consumed by his desire for you and it makes you ache for him. 

“Not tonight,” you tell him. There’s no room for argument in your tone. As much as he might want to taste you, devour you, all you want is to be as close to him as possible. You want to be covered and filled by him in every way you can be. 

His head falls against your thigh, a rough groan tumbling from his throat at your words. You drag him towards you, pulling him up your body until you’re face to face. You smile softly up at him, lifting your head so you can meet his lips again. 

You’ll never get enough of kissing him, of tasting him. Sometimes you have to stop yourself from reaching across the seats and kissing him while he drives. You’ve nearly made him wreck a few times and forced him to pull over so you could both have some fun in the back. 

Addiction isn’t the right word for what you feel for him. It brings along its own negative connotations. The taint of dependency and toxicity. With addiction, it’s a parasitic relationship, hurts you but makes you feel good. 

This is just goodness. This is a kind touch for the first time in your life and finally feeling safe in someone elses arms. This is opening yourself up to him fully and not once feeling like you need to mold yourself into something else to make him happy. It’s accepting him as he is, a broken dog who likes to fight to punish himself. You don’t want to change him or make him “better.” You just want him to be happy. 

You use your powers to help yourself, flipping him over and straddling his hips. You drag his jeans down his legs and flick your wrist, sending them flying somewhere across the room. He watches you with eyes filled with awe, hands drifting over your curves like something to be worshipped. 

You know he’s waiting for it, for you to sink yourself down on him and finally be filled. But you wait, hover over him even as the muscles of your thighs tremor. “You don’t hide things from me anymore,” you warn him. You’re not asking, for once, you’re demanding what you want. 

He doesn’t look angry like you’d been expecting. Instead, it only seems to turn him on more. “Ya know,” his hands drift to your hips, dragging you down and over his cock until it’s wet with your want. Your nails dig into his chest until there’s blood beading under them and you’re trying not to let your noises slip out. 

“I kinda like it when you’re all bossy like this.” 

“Logan,” you grit his name out. It takes everything in you not to look as affected by him as you feel. “No more hiding shit.”

He leans up on his elbows. His hand drifts to the nape of your neck and drags you down until your lips are nearly touching his. “Yeah, I got it, sweetheart.”

Like a taut rope being cut, you sink into him, your hips finally drop and he guides you down every inch of him until you feel like you’re so full you can’t breathe. He lets you linger for a moment, and get used to this feeling while he steals the very air from your lungs. 

He’s greedy with the way he touches you. His hands always moving like he’ll never fully be satisfied with how much of you he can feel. He’s always reaching for you like he needs to make sure you’re actually real and not just something he’s dreamt up. 

Even with how impatient he is, you’re always the one that moves first. You roll your hips over him, moaning at how he feels inside you. It’s like he’s perfectly molded you around him. He always manages to brush against the spots that make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

The second your hips begin to roll, he’s wrapping his heavy arms around you, grinding you down into him. He keeps you trapped in place, using you like a toy as he bounces you on his lap. Your mind is fuzzy, every bad thought and feeling shoved out while he makes you go dumb on his dick.

You love how boneless you go. You don’t have to think now, don’t have to worry. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, shifting yourself further on top of him until you're practically burying yourself under his skin. 

Not thinking always comes with its own consequences, though. Your powers slip a little out of your grasp. The walls trembling and the drawers and cabinets opening and closing. The both of you have gotten used to the noise, know how to drown it out, and just focus on each other. 

One of these days, you’ll need to figure out a way to have sex with him without bringing the room down around you. That’s a problem for later though. His whispered praises and grunts of your name filter through your mind until there’s nothing left inside you but him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses in your ear, “you’re so fucking tight around me. You close?” He grunts, hand drifting down to rub tight circles on your clit. You dig your nails into his shoulders, nodding your head frantically against his neck. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” you can barely think of your own damn name. Let alone what you want from him. “Fuck off,” you hiss. He chuckles at the attitude and you almost expect him to stop, just to be a dick because you were a brat. 

But he’s just as close as you are and he’s too selfish to tease. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes down on you as your body shakes against his. He follows quickly after you, warmth shooting up inside you and almost leaking down your thighs. You feel stuffed, like your body’s been pushed to the limit and further. 

You both sit together in silence for a while. You ignore the way your skin sticks to his uncomfortably, instead reveling in the warmth he provides you. Anyone else, and you’d be rushing to get away from them. 

You’re always extra sensitive after sex, every little thing setting you off. But there’s a comfort to the way his hairy ass chest brushes against your breasts and his arms squeeze around you. It’s a nice grounding feeling. 

The tips of your fingers drift over his arms, following the path of his veins and brushing against his fingers lazily. He flips his palm over, encasing your hand in his own wordlessly. Little things like that ease your worries. Makes you feel like something more than just a quick fuck. 

He breaks the silence first, which is rare for him. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

You frown and peer up at him. “I told you, I don’t care about the fighting.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Not that. I shouldn’t have gotten so fucking mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You want to interrupt him, assure him that you both acted pretty childishly. 

But you understand it’s difficult for him to express himself verbally. He usually prefers silent acts of apologies and expression, you don’t want to mess him up before he can get out what he wants to say. 

“I don’t want to be like your father.” Your face screws up a little and you shift uncomfortably on his lap. He loosens his grip, giving you room to leave if you want to, but you stay put. “I’m trying not to coddle you, sweetheart, or hide you away from the world. But I don’t like you seeing that shit.”

“You’re not my dad, Logan. He wouldn’t give me a choice,” you try and joke but it just seems to make him more irritated. Sighing you straighten up, bracing yourself on his chest and staring down at him. 

Your head tilts to the side in contemplation and he almost looks uncomfortable under the attention. “I’m not so fragile or sheltered that I’m going to shatter at the first taste of the real world, Logan. I mean, for god’s sake, I’ve had acid thrown at me and bodyguards since I could walk. I know how dangerous it is. Whatever you want to hide from me, I’ve seen worse.”

You let your words sink in for a moment and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. You know that it’s odd for him, to comprehend a girl who was afraid to go into a bar swallowing down an illegal fighting ring like it’s nothing. But you’re not lying. Everyday little things are what you’re unused to. But you’ve lived alongside violence your whole life. 

“Look, fighting, sleeping in shitty motels, and your truck, that doesn't bother me. But I don’t like when you hide things and I don’t,” you take in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the worst. This is what you’ve been trying to tell him for weeks. 

A few little words have your tongue tied and make you desperate to cover yourself up again. He can see the shift in your expression, and feel how tense you get. He sits up a little more, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand. 

“I don’t want to just be someone to fuck you, Logan. I didn’t come with you so you’d have easy access pussy,” he looks thoroughly amused at your crude words, but there’s something else lingering in his expression. Something like hurt. 

“Is that what you think?” He asks, tone distant. You can’t find the words so you simply nod. He sighs and shakes his head. He eases you off his lap and you worry you’ve truly fucked this up somehow. 

He goes into the bathroom, returns with a wet washcloth. He still doesn’t speak and you’re on edge the entire time he cleans the both of you up. You can see he’s thinking, biting his tongue, and trying to figure out what it is that he wants to say to you. 

You’re impatient, five seconds away from just demanding a response from him. He tosses the cloth and drops into bed beside you. You draw the sheets up to your chest, glaring down at him while he rubs his hands over his face with a tired sigh. 

When he opens his eyes again he laughs at how close you are. “Jesus,” he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging you down into his chest even though you fight him. It must be easier for him to speak when you’re not staring at him. 

“I didn’t go back for you so I could fuck you, kid. I… care about you,” there’s a long pause before he says the word care. You think it’s funny, that he can’t bring himself to admit what he actually feels. But you’ll take it, you’ll give him the time he needs to come to terms with the truth. 

For now, you let yourself fall asleep, feeling just a little bit better about the road ahead. 

Things get easier between the two of you. And somehow harder at the same time. You don’t walk on eggshells around each other, no longer afraid of scaring the other off now. Which also means that you find it easier to bicker with him about little things. Like, not just tossing his trash everywhere in the truck. You’re practically living out of the trailer, the least he could do is help you keep it tidy. 

You know it’s weird for him. Suddenly having someone nag at him not to be a slob or to take breaks in between driving so he doesn’t wear himself out. It’s an adjustment you see him struggle with sometimes. 

You try not to be too pushy, but there’s only so many times you can flick crumbs from his burgers off your seat before you lose it. “Logan!” You snap, glaring at him as you stand up only to find chip crumbs squished into the fabric of your leggings. 

He glances over at you and shrugs, “What?” 

You glance between the crumbs and him with a glare but he doesn’t seem to be connecting the dots. “Fucks sake,” you grumble, passive-aggressively wiping the truck seat off before you slam the door and storm towards the diner. 

You’re sick of being cramped in the truck. You’re sick of the greasy food. You’ve begun to crave salads lately. Which is beyond weird. But the novelty of shitty food and milkshakes wore off a hundred miles ago. 

Logan catches up to you, huffing with irritation as he swings the door open for you. You take a seat in the booth near the corner, snatching up the menu and pointedly staring at it and not him. “Really?” He demands. When you don’t answer he tips the menu down, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What is your problem?” He hisses, trying not to draw attention to you both. 

You lean in, voice a harsh whisper. “How hard is it to just not make a mess? We live out of that damn truck, the least you could do is keep your crumbs on your side.”

He rolls his eyes and leans back in the booth. You’re both sick of having the same fight. But there’s really nothing else to do anymore. When you’re stuck together for so long, it’s the small things that get to you. 

You’re going to say more but the waitress pops in front of you out of nowhere. “Hi!” She beams and gives you her name, the bows in her hair trembling at how hyper she is. “What can I get you both today?”

You and Logan place your orders, and he shoots you an odd look when you only order the salad. “We’ve got a couple more hours ahead of us, you’re gonna get hungry.”

You cross your arms and shrug, “No, I won’t.”

He licks his lips, sucking on his teeth and leaning against the table. “Yes, you will,” he argues with a stern voice. 

You narrow your eyes at him and give him a bitter smile. “Kiss. My. Ass.”

Your stomach grumbles for the third time and you know that Logan can hear it. You’re pointedly not making eye contact with him. It feels like it's louder than the music at this point and you really don’t want to prove him right. 

Without a word, he begins to dig around in the center console. You glance towards him, confused, “What’re you doing?”

He doesn’t say anything, just tosses whatever he’s grabbed onto your lap. You glance down at it and frown. It’s somehow cold as you unwrap it. You pull the parchment paper away and let out a relieved sigh. 

He ordered you a wrap from the diner without you realizing. You take a bite, your hunger steadily easing away. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, pointedly looking out the window. 

He glances over at you and scoffs. “What was that? Couldn’t hear ya, kid.” 

You roll your eyes and turn to glare at him. He’s already looking at you, a teasing tilt to his lips. “I said I’m sorry,” you snap. “I shouldn’t have been a bitch.”

He shakes his head and waves you off. “I haven’t exactly been pleasant myself. I’ll,” he huffs lowly and forces the words out, “clean up more.”  

“I think we’ve just been stuck on the road too long. We’re gonna end up driving each other insane.”

His eyes glance along the signs on the highway. There’s a notice for food and shopping at the next exit and he nods towards it. “We’ll stop at a motel for a few nights. Take a break.” You want to ask him if he’s sure that’s smart. 

It seems risky, to slow down for so long. But you need to walk around, breathe fresh air, and stretch your legs. You’re too selfish to tell him not to stop and keep going. Instead, you nod and smile at him. “That sounds really nice.”

He gives you a slight smile that’s gone as quickly as it came, reaching over and resting his hand on your thigh. You move closer to him and he turns the radio up. You wonder why he doesn’t want to talk anymore but you don’t push it. You’re too excited to finally get out of the truck again. 

The town is nice enough. It’s small, with only a few shops where you buy some new shirts to replace one’s that Logan has torn up. The motel you’re staying at doesn’t have a washing machine so you have to use the laundromat to wash your clothes. 

Logan says he’s going to see if he can find a quick job nearby. You wonder if that means a real job or a more bloody one. You decide not to ask questions, instead taking the little change you have and figuring you’ll try to get the smell of grease out of all your clothes. 

As you load the machine up and put your quarters in you can’t escape the feeling of someone watching you. You’ve been on high alert ever since Logan stole you away from the house. But this is different. 

You’ve gotten used to your own paranoia, you know when it’s real or not. You walk away from the machine, glancing out at the glass walls near the front and trying to see if there’s someone out there. This, oddly enough, doesn’t feel like a police stakeout where they’re going to track you back to the motel and bust Logan. 

This is something different. There is a deep-seated primal fear in you that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart races as your eyes search the dark street outside. What little glow comes from the streetlights isn’t enough for you to clearly make anything out. 

But you feel them, tracking your every move. They’re somewhere nearby, you can’t see them but they see you. You feel sick to your stomach. You glance at the door before racing towards it. You turn the lock, slowly backing away and keeping your eyes trained on the street. 

You look into the shadows and find shapes and movements where there are none. Your eyes spin as your brain crafts a horrible image of some monster waiting outside for you. When the timer for the washer goes off you let out a sharp scream, spinning around and clutching your chest as you glare at it. 

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter, angrily running your hand over your face and trying to catch your breath. You put the clothes in the dryer and by the time you're done, the feeling is gone. You don’t know if they were never there to begin with, or if they got bored and left. 

You’d told Logan that you didn’t need a ride, you’d just walk the short distance back to the motel. Now, you use the phone on the front counter and call him, telling him you’ve changed your mind after all. 

By the time he picks you up, he looks incredibly concerned. You know you sounded panicked when you called him. You still feel upset about the whole thing. But when he asks what’s wrong you just tell him you got a little scared walking back in the dark. 

You don’t tell him someone was watching you because you know he’ll make you pack up and leave again. You want some stability. Even if it's just for a week. So, as stupid as it is, you lie to him and say everything’s fine. 

When you try to go to sleep that night you feel like you’re being watched again. Even with the curtains closed their eyes burn into you. You toss and turn under the heavy weight of the sheets, struggling to get comfortable. 

There’s a low grumble behind you before Logan throws his arm over your waist and tugs you back into his chest. “Stop movin’ around,” he demands, his voice barely audible. You smile a little at how tired he sounds before forcing yourself to settle down. 

He doesn’t give you much choice, using his body as a weight to keep you pinned. You still feel their gaze, even more now, but his proximity brings you enough comfort to get a little bit of restless sleep. 

Logan’s up before you, he always is. He comes in with cheap coffee and free breakfast from the lounge. You push the sheets off your legs, your shirt sticking to your back from the cold sweat of your nervous sleeping. You feel a little more at ease this morning. 

You wonder if you’re developing some late-in-life fear of the dark. You don’t know why you were so upset last night, you feel perfectly fine now. It’s almost like it was all one bad dream. Logan walks over, handing you the coffee wordlessly and rustling around in your bag for something. 

He pulls out the envelope of cash you keep stashed away and frowns at the contents. “Found a job,” he mutters, stuffing the envelope away and turning back towards you. He leans against the desk, face pensive. 

You rub your eyes, trying to wake yourself up a bit more so you sound coherent. “What is it?” You take a sip of the coffee and your face screws up at the aftertaste. 

“Fighting,” his tone is clipped and you wonder what’s got him up in arms. He walks past you, heading into the bathroom, and closing the door behind him. You tilt your head, gaze following him curiously. He doesn’t normally close the door, he usually likes to invite you to join him. 

Something happened and you wonder if he’s hiding the same thing you are. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and closing your mind off to the fear from last night. 

By the time Logan is done in the bathroom, you’re feeling more awake. You can’t just dismiss what happened last night. You’ve never gotten scared like that before. You refuse to ignore your instincts, but you’re also not going to let whoever that was terrify you into going back on the road. 

You don’t want things between you and Logan to grow more tense than they already are. The time away from each other yesterday helped a lot. You no longer want to strangle him when you hear him breathe. You’ll just stick closer to him today and see if you feel the eyes on you again tonight. 

“So,” you start, testing the waters to see if he’s still in a bad mood. He glances over at you, eyebrows quirked in curiosity but you’re tongue-tied as you stare at him. However many weeks you’ve been with him and you’re never gonna get used to seeing him straight out of the shower. 

The towel is draped low on his hips, giving you a taunting look at what lies underneath the white cloth. Droplets drip down his abs and you’ve never wanted to be water more than you do right now. It’s unfair, just how attractive he is. 

You always forget what you’re going to say. You can’t think when he has a shirt off, it’s infuriating. Scoffing, you turn away from him and shake your head. You hear him chuckle, you know he knows what you’re thinking about. 

“What’s wrong?” He creeps up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you back into his chest. 

“Logan, dammit,” water soaks into the back of your shirt uncomfortably and you tilt your head to glare at him. 

He smirks down at you, “Cat got your tongue, kid?”

You roll your eyes and push away from him. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.” You snatch a shirt from the dresser and shove it into his hands. “Put this on.”

He scoffs and gives you a disbelieving look. “Are you serious?” You wait for him, gaze expectant. You’re not gonna be able to think when he looks like this. Sighing, he acquieses and tugs the shirt on. His lips fall into a sarcastic line, “Happy?”

Like a switch being flipped you finally remember what you were going to ask him. “The job you told me about. Where is it?”

You can see on his face how little he wants to divulge that information to you. But you know he’s going to tell you. You two made a deal not to hide things, although, you might be breaking your side of that right now. 

“Some shitty bar a few miles from here. Listen-”

You’re not gonna like it. 

I don’t want you tagging along. 

You should just stay here and read or some shit.

You wonder which one he’ll pick today. “You wouldn’t like it, it’s just a shitty little place where I can make some quick cash.” Look at that, it’s rarely ever your first pick excuse. You must be getting better at reading him. 

“I’ll come with you,” you tell him because you’re not asking. You’re not staying by yourself tonight and you both need the money. You grin at him even as his face falls in disappointment. “Maybe I’ll fight.”

He doesn’t even say anything and you immediately regret what you said. The look he’s giving you would put you six feet under if it could. “It was just a joke,” you mutter.

“Wasn’t funny, kid,” he tells you, tone clipped as he moves around you to grab his jeans. “I don’t even want you in those places, let alone fuckin’ fighting.”

You purse your lips and take a seat on the bed, handing him his jacket when he begins looking for it. “I have abilities too, you know. Maybe I could win a fight.”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “I win because I can take the hits people deal me. You can’t,” you don’t bother arguing with him that you heal too. You understand what he means. You might be able to recover physically, but there’s a mental aspect to being knocked on the ground. There’s humiliation and fear in cage fights, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle that side of it. 

He waits for you to say anything else but when he realizes you’ve dropped the subject he lets out a relieved sigh. “You’ll stay in the truck,” he tries. 

You give him a deadpan look, slipping the keys out of your purse and handing them to him. “No way in hell, but I’ll stay by the bar if it makes you feel better.” He stays silent and nods but you know he’ll try and convince you otherwise when you actually get to the place. Tough luck, though, you don’t think it’s safe for either of you to be apart tonight. Even if it’s just staying in the truck. 

The setup of these places is always the same. Though, this bar seems to be particularly disgusting in comparison to other ones you’ve been to. You position yourself near the corner, your back to the wall so you’re less likely to be noticed in the crowd. 

The fights never last more than a few minutes. And that’s if Logan is feeling generous. Most of the time you only need to be here an hour before people get pissed off and go home. Someone bumps into you and you hear a small, “I’m sorry,” before they rush to claim a stool. 

The crowd’s already begun to die out. Most leave while they still have a little money left in their pockets. You duck your head down, catching the eye of the girl who’d bumped into you. She looks young and incredibly skittish. Her eyes keep darting to the tip jar near the bartender. 

She quietly asks for water but the bartender just shakes his head, tugging the jar closer to him. You don’t know why you’re drawn to her, maybe it’s because she looks like one of those sad pound puppies, but you take a seat beside her. 

“Water,” you order, slipping him some change. When he gives it to you, you pass it off to her, spotting the greedy way she eyes it. You know a runaway when you see one, she clearly needs a little help. But Logan’s got enough on his shoulders, you’re not gonna bug him with adding another person to the mix. 

“Thank you,” she gulps it down like she hasn’t drunk anything in days. You feel your stomach twist with empathy. What little cash you have in your wallet, you slip into her bag as you pass by her. Logan will have made enough for it to be spared and it's the least you can do. 

Not everyone is as lucky as you to have someone help them navigate a new life. 

Logan grabs his jacket, wiping blood off from under his nose and heading towards you. You know he’ll want a drink before you go, he always does. Before he can say anything someone’s shouting the name he uses in the cage. “Hey, Wolverine! I want my fucking money back.”

The big man he’d knocked down earlier takes a step towards him. His friend tries to hold him back, but there’s no stopping him. He’s already had his ass kicked once, what makes him think this is going to be any different?

“Not your money anymore, bub.” Logan scoffs and turns back towards you. You just want to leave now. You don’t want to stay for a drink or go get something to eat. You feel the eyes on you again, but when you turn to find them there’s no one there but the girl. 

And she’s not looking at you. Her eyes are wide and staring at something else. “Behind you!” She screeches, and both you and Logan whirl around to find the man barreling towards him with a knife outstretched. 

Logan moves so quickly that you stumble back slightly. He grabs the guy's arm, twisting his wrist until the knife drops to the ground. He shoves him back against the wall, claws out and pinning him there.

“Shit,” you whisper, glancing around as the few patrons of the bar stare in horror at Logan. The people counting his money stop and tuck it back into the cash box. You clench your eyes shut in irritation, he’s not gonna be getting paid tonight, that’s for sure. 

There’s a strange noise behind you, like someone cocking a gun. You turn around slowly, gasping when you see the bartender pointing the barrel of his shotgun at your chest. He’s not aiming it at Logan, he’s aiming it at you. Like he somehow knows that’s the only way to get him to back off. 

It’s not like he was going to kill the guy, besides, he came at him with a knife first. What’s the difference if Logan’s a mutant? He’s defending himself. Why does no one understand that?

“Get out of my bar,” the old man warns lowly, taking a step closer to you. Logan turns around and finally spots what’s going on. 

“Pay me and I’ll be on my way.” You know you’d be able to heal from the shotgun blast, but you don’t exactly want to go through it. 

The old man laughs and shakes his head. “You’re not getting paid, buddy. Get the fuck out of my bar before I put a hole in your little girlfriend.”

Your eyes narrow in disbelief. You debate with yourself for a moment, if this is smart or not. But the guy’s being a prick and you’re sick of people treating mutants like they’re less than nothing. You flick your wrist and the shotgun goes flying out of his hand. 

You glance over at the cashbox and it comes floating towards you, landing easily in your outstretched palm. “Be thankful I’m not blowing a hole in you,” you warn, glaring at the cowering man. You walk forward and he stumbles back and you try not to focus on the sick feeling of satisfaction it brings you. You grab the tip jar and shove it towards the girl at the end of the bar. “Good luck, kid.”

Logan releases the man from the before, taking a step towards you. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and rush towards the exit of the bar. You need to just get the fuck out of this town as quickly as possible, you’re not safe here anymore. 

Logan seems to agree with you. He gets into the truck and doesn’t turn back to the motel. Instead, he turns onto the highway while you keep your eyes peeled on the trees outside your window. There’s someone out there, still following you. 

“Something’s wrong with the suspension,” you glance up from where you’d been working on breaking open the cashbox and frown. Logan’s glaring down at the steering wheel, it seems like he’s struggling to get it to turn properly. 

“What?”

He scoffs and glares at you, “How should I know?” He pulls over to the side of the road, opens his door, and lets in a rush of cool air and snow. You toss the cashbox to the back of the trailer and follow after him. 

He goes to where he’s pulling his motorcycle and you feel like you notice an extra bump under the tarp. “What’s that?” You take a step towards it just as Logan pulls it back. You have to bite back a laugh when you see the girl from last night curled up next to his motorcycle. 

She gives you both guilty looks and slowly sits up. “I’m sorry,” Logan offers her a hand and she gets out of the trailer. He grabs her bag and drops it at her feet. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Find a different ride,” he growls, already heading back to the truck. You open your mouth, prepared to argue, but you can’t force her on him. As much as you might want to help her. She’s better off away from the two of you.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” She snaps at him, a little attitude finally showing through. 

“Yep!” He gets in the truck and you know he wants to drive off immediately but he has to wait for you. You shoot her an apologetic look as you follow after him, slipping into the seat beside him. He starts the engine, driving off slowly, eyes drifting towards the rearview mirror. 

You bite your tongue, trying not to point out how cruel he is leaving her on a snowy highway in the middle of nowhere. He glances over at you, “What?” He snaps. 

You shake your head and shrug. “Nothing.” You’ve barely finished speaking before he’s slamming on his brakes. 

“God dammit,” he mutters, running a hand over the stubble on his jaw. You can’t help the grin on your face, reaching over to open your door. It doesn’t take long for the girl to catch on, scooping up her bag and chasing after you. 

“You’re such a softie,” you tease him. 

“Shut the hell up.”

Rogue is nice, if not a little odd. She claims to be a mutant too but doesn’t want to give specifics on her abilities. You don’t want to push her but you are curious about the gloves she wears. “What kind of name is Wolverine?” She asks, spotting Logan’s tags. 

He glances over at her and smiles slightly, “What kind of a name is Rogue?”

She goes to say something but you throw your arm out, holding her back as you shout, “Logan, watch out!” He tries to hit his brakes in time but the tree’s already coming down. The truck slams into it and it’s like time slows down, only for a moment. 

You can feel the impact of your body against the windshield, the glass dragging along your scalp and skin. It’s like a million razors each slicing into you. And then, you’re flying through the air, head snapping so hard against the ground you can’t see anything. 

You hear something happening around you, a roar that doesn’t sound human echoing through the air. There’s the sound of metal crunching and someone is screaming in the distance but you can’t see. It’s not like a total void of darkness, there’s just nothing. 

You feel the blood slowly leaking down the back of your skull and something lands harshly against your head. You don’t think much time has passed. When your eyes finally open, however, you’re not lying on the pavement. 

The world around you is foreign. It smells like a hospital but it’s not like any you’ve ever seen. X-rays are hanging on the wall and paperwork is scattered on a desk near the bed you’re lying on. 

Your mind is blank for a moment. Slowly turning back on while you process the sudden change of scenery. You don’t even remember closing your eyes, you don’t know when your vision came back to you or how long you’ve been here. 

The terror sets in quickly. You throw the blankets off your legs, staring down at the pajamas you wear in disgust. Someone had changed you. They’d run tests and done X-rays on you and you don’t remember a second of it. 

You rip the needle out of your arm, tossing it to the floor and running towards the door. Your feet slip on the metal floors as you run but you’re afraid to stop. Everything around you looks more and more like a lab. 

Did someone from the bar call some government agency? You’ve heard horror stories from your father about the tests the military has run on mutants. You’re starting to worry that’s what's happening to you. 

But you doubt the military would make it so easy for you to escape. This has to be something else. You’d heard other voices when you’d been lying on the ground. People who had been trying to help. Could that be who took you?

“You caught on quicker than your friend.” You nearly fall flat on your face, flipping around to see who spoke. But no one’s there. You’re completely alone. “I’m just grateful you didn’t choke out one of my associates.” it’s coming from beside you now. 

It’s all around you, the voice floating through the walls until you think he might be in your mind. “Much faster than your friend,” he sounds gleeful and it makes you even more anxious. “I’m a telepath, darling, nothing to fear. If you’d just take that elevator and come up to meet me.”

You’d have to be an idiot to actually listen to the voices in your head. But you don’t see another way out of here. So, reluctantly, you follow the floating voice’s instructions and slip inside the elevator. 

When the door opens up again you don’t have a chance to step inside before someone’s pushing you back. Logan stands in front of you, hands clamped tightly around your shoulders while he looks you over. 

You sink into his arms, hugging him tightly to you. You’d been terrified you were all alone here. It’s more than a relief to see him again. “You’re okay?” He asks, pulling back to look at you one last time. 

You nod, throat too dry to try and form a coherent sentence. You glance over his shoulders brows furrowed at the people awkwardly watching you reunite. There’s a man in a wheelchair smiling at you, “Ah, glad you could make it.” The floating voice, of course. “Logan here was quite worried about you.”

Logan turns to glare at the man and you offer a slight smile. There is something comforting about him. You’re not exactly threatened by an old guy in a wheelchair. The redhead behind him, however, is bugging you. Something about the way she’s looking at Logan doesn’t sit right with you. 

“Welcome to my school for the exceptionally gifted,” something about the way he says that makes you tilt your head in confusion. You don’t know what he means until there’s a puff of smoke behind him and some kid is walking by with their hair on fire like it’s nothing. 

Mutants. It’s an entire school for mutants. You think you could pass out again. 

“It’s the best place we could have ended up, Logan. This is amazing.” You’ve been going back and forth for an hour. He won’t see reason. He keeps saying you need to leave. That you don’t know these people and it could all be one big trap. 

You don’t understand him, why he’s so desperate to get away from people like the both of you.  You’re rejected in every other corner of society. You could have something real here. 

It hits you at once. That’s the problem. He’s not ready for something real. He’s not used to it because he’s never had it before. At least you could pretend at a sense of normalcy living at home. It’s an entirely new concept to him, sticking to one place for so long. 

“We don’t know these people,” he hisses, leaning over the bed to argue with you. You narrow your eyes but your conversation is cut off by a knock on the door. You sigh, walking away from him and swinging the door open. 

Jean is on the other side, a surprised look on her face when she sees you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to drop these off to Logan.” You glance down at the towels in your hand and give her a strained smile. That’s a flimsy excuse if you’ve ever seen one. “I must have the wrong room.”

You step to the side, opening the door wider so she can see him. He doesn’t even look at her, too busy angrily unmaking the bed. “No, you have the right one.” You hold your hands out expectantly, “I can just take those for you.”

The look on her face is priceless and finally causes a real smile to grow on your lips. She wordlessly hands you the towels, looking disappointed. You don’t know if it's because of what she was trying to do, or because she couldn’t do it. 

Before she leaves you call out a quick, “Tell Scott I said thank you again. Wouldn’t be here without him, after all.” Her shoulders tense and she rushes back down the hall. Whatever little crush or interest she has with Logan is going to need to be dealt with on her own. 

You’ve got enough shit going on without having to worry about her too. You shake your head and slam the door shut, tossing the towels on the desk. Logan sits on the bed, watching you with an odd look. 

“What was that about?”

“She’s into you,” you tell him bluntly, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t even blink, just glances between the towels and you before shrugging. 

“Not interested.” You don’t want to admit that you feel any relief. There was never any real doubt. But it’s still nice to be reassured. 

You slip into bed beside him, taking his hand and forcing him to meet your gaze. “I know that this isn’t what either of us was expecting, but this is good, Logan. We don’t have to worry about pretending we’re something we’re not. We don’t have to worry about my dad or anyone finding us.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced. But he lets out a heavy sigh and drags you closer to him. He tucks your head under his chin, placing a brief kiss against your forehead. “If you want to stay, we’ll stay. But I’m not putting on that fucking costume.”

You laugh a little, peering up at him with a grin, “Deal.” 

There’s a place for you here, even if there isn’t in the rest of the world. You can be safe here, you don’t have to worry anymore. You don’t have to fear the eyes on the back of your head because they can’t get you here. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allilium @insomniachox  ♡ 

Asked for part two: @enchantedbutterflies @strawberrylore @ittoscumdump @enananawoah @wotcherboo

@cali0101 @fluffy-b33z @pcrushinnerd @izbelross @saltwaterburns

@likeficsinthewnd ♡ 

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, reader gets into a fight, this fits into the weirdo! shouto ficlet i wrote, older bro touya au, shouto's scar, kindaaa non neurotypical shouto hinted if you squint lol, shouto n reader are lil misfits, lemme know if i missed sum else !

"can i help you, young man ?"

"i hurt my knee."

you're laying in the nurses office when a familiar voice hits your ears.

"oh really ?" no verbal response but you assume there's a nod because the nurse continues "what happened ?" she sounds skeptical.

"i fell." the person, a boy, replies. the nurse sighs, complaining to herself about kids these days coming to the nurses office for every little thing. you're still pretending to be asleep, not wanting to go back to class yet because you know your classmates won't leave you alone. your face is turned away as you hear the office door shut and soon after there's shuffling in the bed next to you.

your eyes snap open and you turn to see a scarred boy looking right at you, blinking slowly.

"shouto !"

"hi." he answers simply. unmoving, he lays on his stomach. after getting over your shock you copy him. "what're you doing here ?" you ask. your friend blinks in response.

"i hurt my knee."

you look at him incredulously "what are you really doing here ?"

shouto lays quietly simply staring at you. he has a habit of doing that, you've heard your classmates call it weird, but you like when he looks at you. his eyes are pretty. his gaze trails off towards the sheets, "i wanted to come see you." he admits. your eyes widen and you feel your ears burn. shouto doesn't seem affected by his confession, his face as deadpan as it usually is.

"everyone is talking about you in class." your nose scrunches up at his words, huffing with a scowl. "what're they saying ?"

"that you won."

that makes your scowl shrink a bit. your eyebrows raise and you shuffle a bit on the bed and hum. shouto only stares. he isn't much of a talker. you've noticed it's because he just doesn't realise that you're supposed to keep making conversation when you're talking with someone. your classmate mahoro says it makes things awkward, but shouto has such kind eyes when he looks at you, you don't mind. and sometimes, you don't really feel like talking either.

"you didn't have to do that you know." is what he says after a while, you blink at him like you'd already forgotten and he continues. "you didn't have to push tanaka like that, it wasn't a big deal."

tanaka, just the mention of the boy's name is enough to make your scowl return full force.

he's one of your classmates that keeps making jokes that all his other friends laugh at that aren't even funny. he doesn't bother you much, but he's kind of a bully and he makes a face whenever you end up on his team for dodgeball. he makes sure you see it too.

you don't care about him much, because he doesn't bother you. but he bothers shouto. you think he does so because shouto doesn't care to confront him about it so he thinks he's stupid. but shouto's the smartest in your class. today though, he went too far and it made you mad, so you shoved him and he'd shoved you back and suddenly you were surrounded by a group of kids screaming in your ears. your face stung from where he'd hit you and then a teacher was pulling you away from him. then you'd ended up here.

shouto hadn't been coming to school for a bit a while ago and when he did come back he had a huge bandage over his left eye. you'd tried to ask him about it but he never told you. so you never pried, but you heard the (not so quiet) whispers from your classmates and shouto who never seemed like he cared, furrowed his brows and slightly clenched his fists underneath your shared desk whenever he'd hear them. and it got worse when he took the bandage off, revealing a big red blotchy scar.

shouto doesn't usually mind what people think, but he'd asked you if he looked ugly and you assured him that you thought he looked super cool. (you'd never seen his eyes so wide and shiny, so pretty.)

tanaka had disagreed with you though. he opened his big mouth and told shouto he looked better with his bandage on. and you'd snapped. you hated that stupid bandage because it'd make his usual face so gloomy. because you only got to see one of his kind eyes and you loved looking at both.

and so, here you were.

"he had it comin', he made fun of you !" you scowl, shouto's brows furrow the slightest bit as well, mildly irritated. "but you got in trouble."

"well, he made fun of you !" you repeat. you both stay unmoving, laying on your stomach while the nurse is out on lunch break. shouto's lips move up into a pout and for the first time ever you hear him huff.

"i wasn't mad about it. i was fine." he insists, his eyes drift towards his fingers picking at his sheets. "you got hurt because of me, and i don't like that." he mumbles sadly. his cheek smushed against the hard pillow makes him look like a little puppy. you hear your heart in your ears.

"well, i didn't just do it for you," you try, "tanaka's always pickin' on everyone, so i taught him a lesson." you huff. you believed you sounded convincing, but shouto looks anything but convinced. others can't see it well, but you can.

"but everyone's gonna think you did it for me. and they're gonna call you weird again," shouto grips and pulls at the white sheets, you're worried they'll rip off and he'll get in trouble. "even though you're not."

you don't care, you'd been called weird plenty of times at your old school. but shouto's bothered for you and your heart beats in your ears "do you think i'm weird ?" shouto quickly shakes his head, as best he can in the position he's in. your chest feels warm and you smile.

"then i don't care what everyone thinks."

the sound of sheets crinkling stops, and shouto stares at you again. he sits up to instead go sit down on your bed. you bring your legs closer to yourself to make space for him.

"i still don't want you to get hurt, even if it's not just for me." his pretty eyes, one surrounded by red zero on you " i don't like it."

shouto never seemed picky to you. except when it came to his lunch (which was always cold soba) and the order in which he started his day at school (first he changes his shoes, then he takes off his jacket and then went to sit in his seat. exactly like this every day.)

he never told you he particularly liked or disliked anything, usually always shrugging. but he said he doesn't like seeing you hurt. it had made him panic when people started pushing him away to see the fight and he couldn't see you anymore. your classmates were talking about you and he didn't like it. the nurse stood in his way and he didn't like it because she kept him away from you for longer.

he does not like tanaka because he'd punched you in the cheek, your cheek that rises up like the sun when you smile at him.

i don't like when you get hurt, he says. i don't want you to hurt because of me, he thinks. you've got a bandaid on your cheek where you'd gotten punched, but you grin and your cheek rises like the sun, shouto hears his heart in his ears.

you hold out your pinky and promise him you won't do it anymore. holding onto your pinky is comfortable and even after promising he doesn't let go. not even when the nurse checks up on you and scolds you when you shamelessly tell her why you'd landed in her office. he doesn't let go in the hallways even when others are looking. they'll think you're weird for hanging out with him, but you told him you didn't care, and shouto feels like he's floating.

( he only lets go when you get to the principal's office. but he ignores the teacher who passed by and told him to get to class and wraps his pinky right back around yours when you walk back out. your smile is pretty like the sun.)

one time, touya-nii had called you weird, and touya-nii is always right. but this time shouto knows he's wrong. because your smile doesn't dim despite the bandaid on your cheek and you only look at him when you get back to class, despite the people calling for you, your pinky stays tightly wrapped around his, only moving so you can readjust and hold it better.

touya is clearly wrong, and shouto knows you're the nicest person in the world.

[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny starts talking about one of the debates Tucker and Sam without mentioning their names when asked who the two are,Danny panics again and says that Sam is Selina since that's not that big of a jump when he starts saying her name

"One of my best friends would agree with you." Brucie suddenly speaks up one night at Dinner when Damian rants about his school not offering enough Vegetarian options. "She is an ultra-recyclo-vegetarian."

Bruce blinks having never heard the term before. A quick glance around the table tells him that neither have the others. Must be slang from his universe then. "What does that mean?"

"She doesn't eat anything with a face," Brucie explains. The curve of his lips has the tiniest amount of bestowed fondness that could only come from infatuation. Oh, Brucie is sweet on the girl. Bruce feels mildly alarmed as all his kids and Alfred sits up in interest when spotting it.

Unaware of what he just unwillingly gave away Brucie continues "Not to be confused with being a vegan because she will eat bread and cheese, but not often. She gets real mad when people mislabel her."

Dick grins, leaning over his forgotten dinner to pin Brucie under an eager stare. "I bet. Mislabeling is the worst."

"It is!" Brucie agrees, seemingly satisfied that someone else feels the same. "Especially when getting her to like you is like trying to get a cat's approval. But it's totes worth it when you do. No one has your back better than her."

A....cat's loyalty? Oh no. Surely it couldn't be-?

"What's your best friend's name?" Steph speaks up asking what's on everyone's mind. They all lean in a little closer as Brucie mindlessly gathers some rice on his fork.

"Her name is Sa-" Brucie takes a bite of his rice before swallowing. It takes everything in him not to quote Alfred and scold him for speaking with his mouth full. How Brucie grew up with such manners, Bruce would never know. "Selina! Her name is Selina."

Oh.

It seemed even in another world Bruce's heart would fall into Selina Kyle's hands.

His kids all but burst into cheers. Even Jason, and that was very hard to accomplish in the last few years.

"I knew it! I knew it!"

"Of course, it's Selina! Who else could it have been?"

"I suppose Kyle is not too horrid a partner for Father."

Duke and Cass high-five while Alfred seems to be glowing in parental pride as the other kids chat about his on-and-off girlfriend again. If a civilian version of himself still fell for her, Bruce could convince his Selina to quit the crime life and be his permanently.

Brucie stares a comprehensive eye around the table, so Bruce takes pity on him.

"I have a Selina as well. My kids....enjoy her company." He says, watching blue eyes swing at him as tiny black bangs fall slightly over them. It's adorable, and he finally understands why he had so many admirers. He bets civilian Brucie breaks just as many, if not more, hearts than he did at that age. "How long have you known Selina for?"

"Um...since she moved to my school when we were ten, so about four years, give or take?" Brucie shrugs, a slight blush overtaking his face. "She's great."

Oh, Bruce bet she is.

"Wait." Tim suddenly speaks up, eyes narrow in mistrust. Bruce had noticed before that the second youngest was suspicious of their dimensional visitor. He had been meaning to pull him aside to talk about it. "You said one of your best friends. Who is the other?"

"...Ethan. My other best friend is Ethan," Brucie says after a moment. He must mean Ethan Bennett. Bruce thinks wistfully of the old days when he would play basketball with his dear friend before he was lost in Clayface.

But why did Brucie pause on Ethan's name like that? It almost seemed like he was very carefully selecting that name or was trying to control his facial reaction to it.

A familiar blush bloomed over Brucie's checks and- oh. The boy had spoken about wishing he was from a world where bisexuality was more common, didn't he?

It would make sense. It's not like Ethan hadn't crossed his mind once or twice when Bruce was a teenager, either.

Tim's eyes narrow further. "I don't believe you."

"And I believe you can't stand the sight of your reflection because you're convinced no one will ever want it either." Brucie cheerfully chirps back before closing his eyes and sighing as if tired. He slumps in his chair, leaning his head against the headrest. "Sorry, that was mean. I'm trying to be less mean."

Bruce frowns at him, aware of Tim's eyes going glossy to his right but his son doesn't seem to want to step away. All conversation stops as they glare daggers at Brucie. Dick especially seems the most upset. "That was uncool Brucie"

"Yeah, sorry force of habit. My older sister and I-"

"Your what?" Bruce cuts him off, wondering if he heard right.

"My older sister?"

"You have a sister?"

"Yeah, don't you?"

"No," Bruce whispers. "No, I don't. I'm an only child."

"Oh. I'm the second youngest. I have an older sister, an older brother, and a younger sister." Brucie turns over to Tim to offer a sincere apology that the other gracious takes, but Bruce can't hear him over the sound of blood rushing between his ears.

"Mother and Father had more children?"

"Kind of." Brucie's face twists slightly in consideration. "Tommy and Harley are adopted. They are technically cousins since they were made by my uncle Vlad. Kate.....my older sister Kate, is my aunt Alicia's bio-kid but she was raised by my parents since she was one since Aunt Alicia wasn't...in the best mental state to care for her. No hard feelings are between them."

"Tommy, as in Tommy Elliot?!" Dick gasps, springing to his feet. "He is your adoptive older brother!?"

Brucie appears startled by his reaction, but he nods all the same. Bruce feels dread sink into his stomach.

"He's evil!" Dick shouts.

"I know." Brucie shrugs, uncaring. "Tommy has some issues, and he had them since he was...fourteen, but he's not dangerous.."

"Did you all miss that he said Harley is his younger sister? Harley as in Harleen Quinzel?" Jason cuts in, twisting to pin Brucie with a hard stare. "That's her real name, isn't it?"

"Well, her real name is Harleen Wayne, but she prefers Harley," Bruice says carefully. "Why? Do you know her?"

"She's evil too!" Dick gasps. "Brucie, you're in terrible danger with those two around!"

"Nah, Kate will stop them." Brucie waves his hand. "Sides Tommy and Harley are always traveling. Neither are home much these days."

Bruce feels a headache growing behind his eyes as Dick desperately tries to explain what happens to Brucie's adoptive siblings in their world. At the same time, his counterpart argues on his sibling's behalf.

(No one knows about the electric candles disappearing from the dinner table as the house descends into madness, trying to make the dimension travel realize his danger. Even fewer are aware of Danny's silent apology to Sam, Tucker, Jazz, Dan, or Dani for butchering their names and somehow still connecting them to someone in this world.)

Master Post Link

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter III: So High School

“Bittersweet sixteen suddenly”

series masterlist previous chapter

pairing: post-prison/ cm: evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.)

series synopsis: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

cw: age gap (Spencer is 42, reader is 24 in chapter 1), Use of y/n's (I'm sorry, I know l'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, romance romancing, kisses and touches but no smut (yet…maybe) ; Reader is feisty and flirty; Spencer is anxious and has an aggressive outburst; female reader she/her pronouns, and mentions of typical CM violence.

wc: 2.7k (they just keep getting longer and longer)

“Okay. Classes are canceled, if anyone asks, you’re sick. I called Emily, let her know we won't be working tonight. Uh, what else- oh! I got us a reservation at the Glass Garden. I think that might be fun, and I got us a table at a restaurant that has really great reviews,” he called from his place on the sofa. Hearing the bathroom door open, he turned, his breath catching in his lungs. In the backlight of the bathroom, Spencer Reid almost believed he’d seen an angel standing in his living room in a sundress.

“Oh- um, you look really pretty- not that you aren’t always pretty, obviously you must know that you’re beautiful but I just—in comparison to when you were crying… you’re…” Any attempt to save himself from the awkward hole he’d dug himself into died on his tongue as Y/N giggled. Her laugh was like a ray of sunlight, melting parts of Spencer’s heart he’d long forgotten.

“Okay, so I’m sick,” she gives him her best fake little kid cough, causing him to roll his eyes. “We’re off duty and you made us plans…oh, and I guess I clean up pretty good for a girl who just had a meltdown against our front door.”

“Very well… for a girl who had a meltdown against our front door,” Spencer nods, his cheeks beginning to ache from the smile that’s been plastered on his lips since she entered the room.

Once they were off campus, the couple let out an exhale neither were aware they'd been holding, away from prying eyes allowed to simply exist as individuals for the first time in weeks.

“You said we’re going to a glass garden?” Y/N asks, fiddling with the sleeve of the cardigan Spencer insisted she bring as they make their way down the highway.

“Yes! The Chihuly Garden,” she smiled, loving the way his features lit up with such excitement. “It’s supposed to be this insanely beautiful collection of really intricate and colorful glass sculptures. I’ve always wanted to see it but we never have time when we’re in the city for a case. Actually, I saw one of the artist's pieces in London—god, it had to be almost twenty-five… years ago.”

Spencer’s heart dropped to his stomach, the excitement in his voice dying with the last words, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. His age was showing, and this feeling was something he’d never experienced before. For nearly twenty years, Spencer had been the youngest person on the team. Even at forty-two years old, he still was the baby until Y/N joined. Was this how everyone else felt, talking to him about ‘the good ole days’ for all those years?

Y/N glanced over at him, a soft sympathetic smile taking her lips. In the three weeks she’d spent in such close proximity to Spencer, she’d picked up on a few of his tells. Right now, she could see the wheels turning in his mind, convincing him he’d ruined things and debating addressing the difference in their ages.

“Spence—”

He didn't respond, his mind still running rampant until he felt the pressure of a hand on his thigh, pulling him back to reality and causing him to inhale sharply, his eyes frantically shifting between the hand, the road, and the woman in his passenger seat.

“There we go…” Y/N mumbled, giving his thigh a little squeeze before pulling her hand away and back into her lap. “You know it doesn’t bother me, right? You don’t need to freak yourself out because you’ve got a couple of years on me, Spencer,” she said with a little more confidence than Spencer was used to hearing from her.

“And besides, I’ve always had a taste for older men,” she shrugged, leaning across the center console to press a kiss to his now flushing cheeks. Spencer couldn't even bear to look at her, his heart racing as he tried to remain focused on the road. Was Y/N actually flirting with him or was she teasing him? Surely it had to be a joke.

The remainder of the drive was uneventfully quiet, with the couple only really speaking to point out the landmarks they’d passed until they pulled into the tiny parking lot beside the Space Needle. As soon as he’d killed the engine, Spencer was out of the car, running around the back to grab Y/N’s door. She smirked, eyeing the older man up and down as he playfully caught his breath from the minimal jog.

“Shall we, M’lady,” he mumbled awkwardly, offering her a hand as she slipped out of the car.

“get my car door isn’t that sweet. then pull me to the back seat”

“Who said chivalry was dead… Keep it up, we won't be making it out of this parking lot,” her brow wiggled rather suggestively as she watched Spencer gulp, his palm beginning to sweat against hers. “Come on, lover boy. I need that big brain to tell me all about the pretty glass.”

Their afternoon was spent hand in hand or arm in arm, the two only separating long enough for one of them to take a photo of the other. Spencer claimed he ‘needed a good photo for his office’. Y/N thought it was cheesy, but she’d giggle and pose wherever he directed her, and he’d try to do the same for her; though, his poses were far more stiff and awkward, but somehow, that made them all the more endearing.

They spent hours observing the installations, with Spencer rattling on about the different techniques used for each detail and Y/N occasionally offering her own commentary about how the art made her feel. To any passersby, they looked like a happy couple that had known each other for years, not two FBI agents playing make-believe for a while.

The restaurant Spencer had picked for dinner was across the park from the gardens, so there was no sense in moving the car. The once bright late summer sun had fallen victim to the Seattle clouds that were beginning to roll in as the couple meandered through the park. Spencer’s eyes trailed the younger woman’s face; he could tell she was contemplating something.

“What is it?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Y/N glanced up at him, her hand falling from his grasp as she twisted her fingers anxiously, waiting for Spencer’s nod of approval. When it came, she paused, taking a deep breath.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, do you know that you completely changed my life?”

Spencer froze a few paces in front of her, brows knit together as he tried to decipher whether or not this was part of her act as the loving wife or if he actually, unbeknownst to him, had an effect on this young woman’s life.

“You taught a seminar in Nevada five years ago, breaking down the relationships between psychology and philosophy in human behavior.” Y/N’s gaze dropped, the summer breeze exposing the blush creeping up her ears. “I wasn’t even supposed to be in the class; I was an English major, but my roommate dragged me along… and maybe it was the way you taught, your excitement I guess? Or the way that it felt like you actually cared. I could’ve listened to you talk for hours.” She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “After that seminar, I marched myself down to the counseling office and became a psych major… added a year and a half to my college experience, but given that I’m about to walk into a very expensive restaurant, married to the professor who changed my life? I think it just might’ve been worth it.” She let out a breathy chuckle, her eyes searching Spencer’s for any indication of discomfort before dropping her gaze back to her hands, mindlessly fiddling with her wedding band. “Sorry, I just really needed to get that off my chest.”

“tell bout the first time you saw me”

For a moment, Spencer sat awestruck. He rarely found himself at a loss for words, but the newfound warmth in his chest made it nearly impossible to speak. So instead, he took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he nodded, guiding her down the path to the restaurant in silence until they reached the door. He hesitated just outside, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

“Thank you… just… thank you.”

Dinner went smoothly, with the only minor hiccup being Spencer’s tangent about the bread basket and his qualms with group food. But other than that, the two simply enjoyed each other’s company, the sound of rain echoing against the roof as they ate.

As the couple exited the restaurant, they were met with the heavy downpour of a summer night storm. Y/N sighed, pulling her cardigan around her a little tighter, her lips pursed as she looked up at Spencer, his hands stuffed anxiously in his pockets. There was no way they were getting to the car dry, he knew that as a fact. So, with a little sigh and a nod to Y/N, he stepped out from the covered awning, arms outstretched as he let the rain soak him.

“Oh, so you’re crazy!” Y/N called, her voice hardly audible over the downpour, making no attempt to move. After a minute, Spencer jogged back to her, his arms wrapping around her middle as he lifted her, kicking and laughing, carting her out into the rain. She wiggled free of him, a smile plastered on her face as her hair began to drip.

 She spun around, embracing the fact she was now thoroughly soaked, a girlish giggle passing her lips as she tucked wet hair behind her ears “Ya now, even soaking wet, this may just may be the most successful date I’ve ever been on.”

Spencer quirked a brow, his head falling to the side like a puppy’s. “Your dating pool is really that bad?” he mused, remembering what it was like to be in his twenties awkwardly trying to make meaningful connections with people

“I don’t even really date; the men—no, they were boys—that have come into my life only ever want to waste my time, so… It’s like a twisted game of kiss,marry, kill? Except everyone sucks and there is a good chance someone is going to actually be crazy enough to kill you?” She shrugged, taking a moment to stare up at the sky her lashes heavy with raindrops

“So what’s it gonna be?” she called, her head turning to glance up at Spencer, the challenge in her eyes illuminated by the gas lamps lining the pavement. “You gonna marry, kiss, or kill me, Dr. Reid?”

Spencer’s eyes darkened, accepting her challenge with a mix of desire and determination as he stepped closer. Wordlessly, closing the space between them, his hand gently cradling her jaw, his touch an even balance between tender and possessive. He leaned in, devouring her lips, capturing her in a kiss that was anything but tentative. The kiss was electric, a rush of sensation that made the world around them disappear. His other hand found its way to her waist, pulling her closer, his fingers digging into the damp fabric.

Y/N responded eagerly, her fingers gripping the damp fabric that clung to his chest, pulling him closer still. She melted into him, the feel of his lips moving against hers sending shivers down her spine despite the warmth that blossomed in her chest. The rain pounded around them, soaking their clothes and plastering her hair to her face, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Spencer held her, the way his mouth moved over hers with a hunger that left her breathless.

“I’m betting on all three,” she whispered against his lips, her voice dripping with desire.

         “All three…” he repeated, pulling away just enough to press a kiss to her forehead, his hands still cradling her face. “I am way too old for you…” he muttered breathlessly, his head shaking as he brought it down to rest against hers.

“The bureau seems to disagree,” her retort was quick, her lips ghosting over his. “And like I said earlier, it doesn’t bother me. I’m a big girl. I know what I want.” She kissed him one more time, hard and quick, before bolting through the park towards the car, leaving Spencer standing in the rain like a lovesick kid.

Spencer watched her go, his heart pounding hard and heavy against his ribs while his mind raced a million miles a minute as he tried to make sense of the fact that his ‘wife’ just might actually like him.

“Are you coming or what?” The rain had died down enough for Y/N’s voice to travel with ease. Spencer ran his hand through his wet curls, pushing them off his face before breaking into a jog up to the car. When she was within arm's reach, Spencer pulled her close, just taking a moment to hold her, fantasize that this life they were leading could be his reality.

Y/N wasted no time, her lips finding the curve of his jaw with ease, her hands tugging at the collar of his shirt. Spencer let out a groan, his head turning just enough to grant her better access to the sensitive skin at his neck, carefully guiding her back against the car door before returning his hand to her jaw, drawing her lips up to his.

There was a moment of bliss, where this was the only world that mattered, just a couple of lovestruck kids, then the shrill tone of Spencer’s phone cut through the air.

“Let it ring,” she all but whined.

“That’s Emily’s ringtone—” he groaned, fishing the all too loud phone out of his pocket and sighing loudly before putting the phone to his ear. “It’s not really a good ti-” he stopped, his gaze flicking down to Y/N, her frame pressed against the car door, another sigh leaving his now slightly kiss-bruised lips as he untangled himself from her. “No, I understand, I hear you. We’re heading back to the house… we’ll be there to meet the officer.” She took that as her cue, silently slipping into the passenger seat. Spencer stayed outside, pacing the length of the car, nodding to himself as Emily continued to talk.

“I’ll let her know.” His voice was muffled from behind the window. “Yup. Okay. We’ll call you if there’s any update. Good night.” Y/N watched as he hung up the phone, his head hanging low for a moment before he turned, striking the back door in a heated flash of anger, before he stalked around the car, climbing into the driver's seat.

It’s silent for a moment, the car tense with now long-forgotten lust as Spencer tossed his phone into the center console.

“There’s another couple. Same MO, same calling card.” She could see the frustration bubbling to the surface again as Spencer’s knuckles started to turn white against the steering wheel. “Local field agent is going to bring the updated file and the crime scene photos to the house…”

“Spence, this isn’t your fault—”

“I never said it was,” he bites back, sending Y/N shrinking into her seat. “I’m sorry… I just— I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to snap at you… I know there was nothing we could’ve done. But it's still frustrating.”

She nods, now her turn to comfort him, her hand hesitantly reaching out across the center console to pry his from the wheel, gently squeezing. “I know, Spence. I know. We’ll figure this out, build our profile, but unfortunately, we just need a little more time. Hopefully soon enough, this unsub will take the bait and it’ll be us against them…” She chuckles softly, shaking her head in an attempt to lighten the mood. “God, that’s morbid… thinking it’ll be a relief to have a murderer place a target on your head…”

“You get used to it…” he said, any warmth in his voice evaporated as the engine roared to life.

the brink of a wrinkle in time

taglist : @olives-and-sunshine @iniyalovesall @suzysface @guiltyyassin @spencereidbasis @tatilolz @cherrycemeterry @hiireadstuff @r-3dlips @sweetpeterparker @catertotshitposts

I hope i got everyone! if you’d like to be added to the taglist don’t hesitate to lemme know and as always i’d love to know the thoughts and feelings! xo

[ienjoywritingfilth]

The Ring

hi: you know i write filth. you can't be surprised by the depravity of this but even i'm a little embnarassed abouit this one. My plan is to write an infidelity fic for each of the PPCU characters.

pairing: Dave York xf!babysitter (university age)

trope: Dave York x thef!babysitter

summary: Carol York sees more than she bargained for when she spies on her babysitter she thinks is a thief.

warnings: infidelity, age gap, absolutely disgusting talk, babysitter kink, light bondage, pinv, pina, degredationn, other shit but I've probs forgotten.

word count: 5k

rating 18+

wanna see my other stuff?

Carol York giggles to herself, adjusting the dark straps on the navy lingerie set she wears. She looks herself over in the mirror, pleased with her reflection. She and Dave are celebrating their eleventh wedding anniversary today and she wants to look extra special. He's been working so hard lately, with such long hours. 

He thinks she's still at work and is coming home early to grab the girls from school to drop them off at Carol's mother's for the evening. What he doesn't know is that Carol is going to be here, waiting for him when he gets back. She's taking him out to his favorite restaurant and then she's going to bring him to a fancy hotel and fuck his brains out all night, just like when they first met. 

She pulls on her dress for the evening, fluffing her hair when she hears you walking through the house, live-in nanny extraordinaire. The only one who can get her kids to eat vegetables and go to sleep on time. The Nanny who cleans when the kids are at school and prepares healthy snacks. But there's something about you Carol doesn't trust. Something that haunts her when you're around. She thinks its maybe the way your eyes don't quite hers when you speak to her. And then one day it hits her as she searches in her jewellery case: you're a thief. Carol realizes it the week she can't find the emerald ring she used to wear every so often.

She's convinced you stole it during your "tidying" of their room last month. She's pretty sure she caught you that day, your face flushed, stammering about how the room needed dusting. You may fool everyone else, but you don't fool her. Even Dave seems taken in by your performance, citing that the house seems to be working like a well oiled machine with you around. 

But now she has a chance to catch you in the act. You don't know she's still at home. She’ll hide in her walk-in closet, get footage of you stealing and then show it to Dave. Then they can both fire you. She grabs her phone, setting it to silent and with a thrilled little giggle Carol goes to the walk-in closet, pulling the doors closed behind her. The slats are tilted, giving her a narrow view of the bedroom a bit blurred at the edges. 

She kneels at the closed door, waiting for you to enter. Her hip bumps into the locked safe Dave insisted on keeping their valuables and gun in. With two young girls he's paranoid and she can't help but agree. She's getting settled into a kneeling position when you walk in shortly after, a laundry basket tucked under your arm. You're humming to yourself and Carol watches as you begin to put away the laundry in the dresser drawers. 

You're wearing a skirt and short blouse, looking effortlessly cool. Carol watches like a hawk as you put away her husband's undershirts in the dresser, bunching the socks, smiling gently to yourself. You’re a pretty thing, she’ll give you that. Even if you are a thief.

"You're still here."

Carol nearly gasps at the sound of Dave's voice. She'd been so focused on you that she didn't even notice him enter the bedroom. He's still dressed from work, black trousers and his grey dress shirt with tie. He loosens the tie, letting it fall onto the dresser.

You glance up from the laundry basket to shine a smile his way. You haven’t even glanced at the jewelry case and now that Dave’s here there’s no way you’ll try.  Carol feels stupid about her plan now because he can't exactly emerge from the closet at this point. She has to wait until you both leave the room. 

"Just finishing up the laundry then I'll be out of your hair," you chirp pleasantly to Dave. 

"No need to rush," Dave says walking further into the room. 

"Where are the girls?"

"In-laws."

"Ahhhhh so that's why Mrs. York told me I had the night off." 

Dave nods. He watches you folding and putting away the laundry for a few moments. He presses his hip against the dresser, his head tilted to the side. Carol feels her heart race at the sight of her husband, so handsome and strong. She’s so lucky to have a husband like him; hard working, a good father, a provider.  

"Where is Mrs. York?" You ask politely, folding the shirt and placing it in the drawer.

"She says she's going to be home late," Dave sighs looking at his cellphone. "At least another hour."

Carol smirks glad he doesn't suspect her plan. She just wishes she wasn't cramped in this closet though. The second you leave she's jumping out and tackling Dave to the bed. Dinner can wait.

Carol knits her brows when Dave darts a smirk in your direction. She watches as you continue to face away from him, folding laundry and placing it in the lower drawers. You bend over at the waist, the curve of your ass just showing.

What a slut, Carol thinks. Dressing like that for work?

She's confused when Dave crosses the room, coming to stand behind you. Her eyes bug out of her head when her husband's large hands go to your body to slide along your hips. She expects you to pull back from him, disgusted. But instead you twirl around to face him with a smile on your face.

"I'm sorry, Mr. York," you say with a breathless giggle. "You must be disappointed."

His hands come to the top of your blouse, starting to undo the buttons. You and Carol both watch with a shaky inhale as he pops the last button and rolls it off your shoulders. You shrug it off, letting it fall onto the floor beside the laundry basket.

Dave pushes you up and out of your bra, your dusky nipples hard. He pinches them, making you whimper while he smiles. He’s wearing a smile Carol has never seen before and she doesn’t like it. He unhooks your bra at the back, sliding the straps down your arms and getting you to stand there with your chest exposed.

“Maybe you could cheer me up," he says lowly, cupping your breasts. He bends over to lick each one, holding you by the waist as you arch into him. Carol feels her eyes widening and her heart sinking with every passing moment.

“You’re the boss, Mr. York,” you breathe with your eyes sparkling. “Just tell me what you need.”

Dave stands up straight, smirking at you as his heavy palm goes to your shoulder.  He barely presses you down before you're falling to your knees in front of him. Carol's stomach drops as you grin up at him.

She watches as Dave runs his finger through your hair, gathering it into a ponytail in his fist while you fumble with his trouser zipper, pulling it down and reaching inside. 

This can't be happening, Carol thinks. She feels rooted to the spot, forced to watch what's happening.  Her husband of eleven years is cheating on her in her house they’ve shared. In her bedroom.

You're pulling his stiff cock out of his pants and Carol can see how hard it is already. You shift, making your breasts bounce as you gaze up at him. You’ve adopted a wide-eyed, playful look.  Dave grips his cock at the base, tapping the head on your wet bottom lip.  

"You want me to cheer you up, Mr. York?”

Dave nods, guiding his cock towards your pouty mouth. You lean forward and lick the tip, earning a pleased groan from Dave. Carol can only watch as you grin up at him before taking him into your mouth all in one go. 

“That’s it,” Dave groans, his head tilting back. “You know just how I like it.”

He continues to hold your hair in a loose ponytail with his right fist, watching you work your mouth on him. The room is full of wet sucking noises and the odd whimper. Your eyes are closed, your face relaxed as if this is normal behavior. As if being on your knees, swallowing her husband's cock while he throws his head back and moans is part of your job description. 

He pulls your mouth back and forth, tugging your hair in his grip. You just moan around his fat dick. He smiles down at you, something dark and lusty. His hips move forward faster, his sliding further and further.

"That's my good little babysitter," Dave groans above you, his hips jutting into your mouth. "Take it all, just like we practiced, sweetheart." 

Carol feels her stomach clenching painfully, like she's got period cramps. This isn't the first time you've done something like this together. This is practiced. Your hands are going to his balls, kneading gently. You break from sucking his cock to suck on one, earning a guttural groan from Dave.

“Look up when you do it,” he orders. When you do he taps his cock on your cheek, letting it rest on your face as you continue to drool around his balls. He watches this, nodding and tugging your hair so you pull off of him.

“Swallow it now,” he says, his grip in your hair tightening. Your mouth moves back to his cock, taking down your throat. He feeds it to you quickly and you don’t gag, you don’t hesitate you just tilt your head back and let him use you.

“This is what you’re made for,” he grunts down at you, watching your tits bounce as he fucks into your mouth.

You moan around his thick cock, eyes opening to stare up at him while you nod. You look completely subservient to him kneeling there with your hands in your lap. Your nose is smashed into the hair at the base of his cock and you inhale deeply moaning in delight. 

Carol is disgusted to see drool starting to escape the corner of your mouth as his fat cock continues to feed itself down your throat. But if anything Dave seems excited by the sight. He tilts back, forcing your mouth to move faster. 

"Cock-drunk already," he says with a grin. "Missed it didn't you? Missed swallowing my cum?"

Your eyes are half open, but you nod emphatically up at him. Dave watches you suck a moment longer before he removes himself from your mouth. Carol can see his cock is shiny with your spit. You look disappointed but Dave comes to grip your chin with his long fingers. 

"On second thought. It's my anniversary. I think I deserve something a little better than your mouth, don't you?" 

You nod briskly and he helps you to a stand before spinning you away from him, the front of your legs pressed against the side of his bed. Carol watches as he tugs off his trousers, then his briefs. All go in a pile next to the laundry basket.  

His fingers slide up your skirt, tugging your pink lace thong down. From where she still kneels in the closet, Carol can see they're damp with your arousal. Why the fuck are you wearing a thong to work? But then just as quickly as the question comes to her the answer does as well. Because she's been fucking your husband. 

Your body bends to accommodate the way the fabric stretches over the round of your pert ass. He tugs the thong off completely, his hand coming to graze the curve of your ass.

"We said we weren't doing this anymore," you sigh dreamily,

"It's my anniversary," Dave says as if that answers everything, his fingers coming to slide between your legs. “And I gave you a nice present last time, didn’t I?”

He unbuttons his shirt, tossing it onto the floor. He stands naked behind you, big and muscular. Carol had always thought Dave was incredibly sexy and even now she can't help but think it.  

Dave’s hand goes to press between your shoulder blades, urging you down onto your belly on the mattress. He lifts up your skirt, taking his time to enjoy the view of your naked ass and slit. Carol jumps a bit when Dave's hand comes to swat your ass. You moan and Carol sees from her seated position that you're covered in your own slick. Dave notices as well. 

"This all for me?"

"Uh huh." 

Dave takes both your ass cheeks and spreads them wide before letting them fall, clapping together. He groans, stroking his cock a moment. Carol feels her face draining of color as her husband kneels beside the bed, his face level with your ass. He darts forward, gripping another handful of your ass. His mouth goes to your other cheek, kissing and then nipping the smooth flesh there. Your arms are folded under your cheek. Carol can see the smile there as he touches you. 

"Like a ripe little peach," he groans as you giggle. Dave's eyes go to your glistening cunt before adding, "and a juicy little peach too." 

Carol can barely watch as her husband kisses his way down your sex. You're folded over the bed and you arch your belly against the mattress, making your cunt more appealing. He begins to give it sloppy kisses, groaning as he eats you out from behind. Carol watches mesmerized by his actions. He's never done this with her. Only ever does missionary, cowgirl, doggy. Oral sex by either partner is brief. 

His fingers come to circle your clit as his mouth and tongue works your hole. 

"Dave --- it's so --- mmph," you lose track of what you were going to say. Your hips are rolling against the bed. Your hands are tangled in the sheets you folded earlier this morning and you writhe over them as he devours your cunt. 

"So fucking juicy," Dave growls between licks.

Your face is bliss, mouth trembling as you grin at his words. "Whose pussy tastes better?"

"Yours," Dave replies with a slur, he doesn't even hesitate. He's holding your legs further apart so he can taste more of you, cunt drunk. "This fucking pussy drives me wild. Best I've ever had." 

"Yeah?" You keen, smiling victoriously. "You like my pussy best?" 

"Yeah. Especially when she comes all over my face."  

Your eyes are shut and you moan his name as you release. Carol's face burns as she listens and watches.  Dave laps up your arousal while you whimper in the aftershocks. Dave grins down at you before standing. He taps your ass instructing you to get on the bed. 

"Take off your skirt."

You strip down hurriedly tossing your clothes onto the ground before resuming your climb to the center of the bed. 

Our marriage bed, Carol thinks feeling helpless. Part of her wants to cry, the other part is fascinated by this different version of her husband. It compels her to keep watching, even as her stomach acid churns. 

Dave looks at you, naked and gorgeous. His cock is thick in his hand, hard while he strokes it.

"Show me."

You fold your legs up on your chest, holding them there as Dave watches, looking smug. Carol watches as Dave crawls onto the bed. He straddles his knees on the bed on either side of your waist. Then he takes your wrists and pulls them above your head. You smile serenely up at him. 

"Are you gonna finish inside me this time?" You ask with your eyes glittering excitedly. 

This time, Carol thinks. You've done this before. 

"You know I can't do that," Dave says shaking his head. "Too risky."

"Thought about that," you say as Dave begins binding your wrists together with your wet panties. 

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod, testing the strength of the panties and finding you can't get loose. "I thought of a way we could avoid any risk." 

Dave isn't really listening. He takes your bound wrists and connects them to one of the decorative iron leaves in the headboard. Something Carol bought because she thought it looked elegant. Now all she can see is how easy it hooks the fabric, keeping you in place with your arms above your head. 

Dave brings his hands to your breasts; enjoying how they look in this position you’re in. He brings each nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over them until they become straining points again. 

"We have to be fast," you groan as you watch this. "We don't have much time."

Dave grins at you before reaching down for his phone on the floor. He taps away on it before smiling at you. 

"Just bought us some time."

Carol looks down at her phone in the dark, seeing the silent notification pop up. She looks at Dave waiting for the reply and she picks up her phone. 

Hey baby. Mind picking us up a bottle of that from last summer? I wanna celebrate our anniversary the proper way.

Carol feels disgust rising in her throat as she reads the message. Both Dave and Carol know that specific vintage is only sold in specialized wine stores in midtown. Midtown is forty minutes away. 

She types quickly, a desperate desire to convince her husband not to keep going. She doesn't know why, but she thinks if he can stop right now there's a chance she can forgive him. 

Of course. Happy to make you happy.

"Perfect," Dave says aloud, about to drop the phone when your second message comes through. 

I Love you so much! I can't wait to see you when I get home!I can't wait to celebrate eleven years married to the love of my life!  

Carol sends off the message, anxious as Dave reads it. She watches as his posture changes and his face drops. He glances over at you, lying on the bed, arms raised and body willing. Dave blinks slowly, frowning back at the text. Carol recognizes the expression in his face: guilt. 

"You know what, this actually wasn't a great idea," Dave mutters. 

"Why not?"

Dave shrugs with the magic of the moment gone. Carol feels a pathetic hope twisting within her as Dave goes to unhook your wrists. 

"But we were having fun."

"I know." 

"Don't you want to hear my plan?" 

Dave shakes his head. You look disappointed, almost angry as he unbinds your wrists. When you’re loose you reach for his middle, stopping him from crawling off of you. 

"I wanted you to fuck my ass tonight." 

Dave stiffens, his movements slowing as he asks you to repeat yourself. You grin up at him, your hand reaching for his cock. 

"I know you heard me, Mr. York," you coo sweetly, starting to jerk his cock against your belly. "And I want you to do it bare. Want you to cum inside me tonight." 

All the air is sucked out of the room. Carol feels like she's going to be sick. She has to do something, has to make her presence known. 

"You can't say shit like that," Dave whispers. He's still straddling your waist, his wet cock rubbing against your belly. 

"Why not?"

"Because then I'll have to do it." 

"Good," you whisper back before giggling.

Carol hates the sound of your girlish giggle, all high pitched and annoying. Dave seems torn. She silently pleads with him to make the right decision. She can’t come back from watching him fuck the babysitter in their bed, she just can’t.

"I can't," Dave finally says in a husky murmur. He pulls his cock from your hand.

Carol's eyes flood with relieved tears. 

You seem irritated, but you're not giving up. Your hand returns to slide along his cock, still resting there on your belly. You part your legs as well, rolling them.

"You're telling me you've never fantasized about fucking me in this bed, Dave?" 

Your voice is low and warm and sultry. Dave groans, hips starting to roll.

"Of course I have, but---"

"Then do it," you urge, smiling seductively. "Cum in your slutty little babysitter." 

Dave's head drops between his shoulders, eyes slammed shut. His erection is rock hard and Carol can see the pre-cum that beads from the tip. 

"It'll be like our own secret anniversary," you tell him sweetly. "The first night you fucked my ass."

Carol is lightheaded with rage. This isn't something Dave even wants anymore! He brought it to with Carol once and when she turned him down he cited that it was no big, deal and that he was just curious. But Carol sees the way his eyes glitter and his cock begins to throb. 

"You know you want it," you coo while urging his cock between your legs. "And I want it too. Want you to fuck my ass with your big dick, Dave." 

The head of his cock is breaching your cunt, slick and waiting. Dave slowly moves overtop of you, his face going to your neck. Carol can see the hesitation in him. 

"Want to feel you fuck me full of your cum," you tell him, urging him inside. 

Dave groans against your shoulder, his hips lifting and flexing as he pumps himself between your legs. Carol watches as his cock disappears between the folds of your cunt. You groan as he stretches you, pressing himself to the hilt. You pant heavily, your mouth finding his ear. 

"My ass feels even tighter than my pussy, Mr. York."  

Dave gives a loud moan; his hips are driving into yours quickly. And now his fingers come to circle the pearl of your clit. He murmurs something muffled into your neck that Carol can't hear, but you grin, rolling your hips against his. 

"And then you'll finish in me?"

Dave nods. You grin, allowing him to rub your clit as he pumps himself into you.

“Harder,” you beg, your tits bouncing as he punches your whines out with each drive of his cock. Carol watches as your body jolts under his with each thrust, your face morphing into obscene pleasure. Your body tenses as Dave delivers another brutal thrust. 

"This is all I wanted," Dave grunts. "Making the slutty little babysitter beg for my cock."

How often do you fuck her husband? It's that why you were flushed that day in here? Do you secretly ride his cock when he's in the office working from home? Does he fuck you from behind on the couch he and Carol watch television on? Does he lick your pussy at the dining table the York's have their family dinners on? 

Carol comes back to herself to see Dave repositioning holding himself on his forearms, driving into you relentlessly.

"That's it, choke my cock," Dave urges you, looking down to see your breasts jiggling for him. "Show me why I keep you around."

Your brows knit together and your fingers curl around his biceps as he drops his fingers and just begins to fuck you in earnest. Carol watches as his balls slap against your ass, slick and loud in the quiet room. Finally you twitch around him, your eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you.

"Want your anniversary present now Mr York?"

“Yea.”

Dave urges your body to the right of the bed, Carol's side. He doesn't even look guilty anymore, he looks hungry. You make a noise of approval as he presses your legs up to your chest, folding you in half. Carol watches this all helplessly from where she kneels in the closet. 

Don't do it Dave. 

But he does do it. He leans himself against the back of your thighs, tilting you up. He gathers your copious release already trickling from your cunt down your to your ass cheeks and he covers his cock in it. Carol watches as Dave tilts his head forward. She’s confused at what’s happening until she sees a string of saliva dropping down the slit of your ass, lubricating it.

You’re breathing quickly, watching the best you can from your constricted position. He nudges the head of his cock against your puckered entrance and then with without ceremony he pushes himself into your tight hole. Dave hisses loudly as you welcome him, your body arching in his grip. Your hands are still on his biceps, your legs in the air. He plugs you, resting for a moment, enjoying how it feels. 

He balances on his hands on either side of you.  You moan helplessly under him when he begins to move again pushing himself in further, your hole gripping him snugly. From where Carol sits she has a front row seat to her husband cock disappearing into your ass. 

"This right here," Dave grunts, "is the best fucking gift I've ever gotten."

Wet noises fill the air as he pulls slightly out and then thrusts in deeper, both of you giving a low moan as he does. 

"Don't know if I can go back to fucking your pussy," Dave grunts, pressing himself to the hilt as you mewl underneath him. "Gonna have to fuck this sweet ass every time."

"Fuck me however you want, Mr. York," you whimper.

Carol watches your face smiling dreamily as Dave buries himself in your ass. You really like this you're not just doing it for his benefit. Carol watches as Dave pulls himself out, then urges you to flip over onto your tummy. You do so without question, burying your face in the pillows and presenting your ass to him. 

Dave groans slapping your ass cheeks and watching them ripple. He's panting heavily, the veins in his broad body popping. Carol recognizes the signs of her husband turned on out of his mind. He eyes the discarded panties in the sheets and grabs your wrists, pinching them together behind your back. You say nothing as he wraps the lace around your wrists again. You're completely at his mercy, your body on display for him, your wrists tied at your back. Dave takes a moment to marvel at this, sliding his hand between your thighs to gather more of your slick. You whine at the contact, pushing your ass out. 

You're fucking shameless, Carol thinks as you gently rut your hips, making your ass pop for him. A fucking slut. 

Dave curls over you, guiding his cock to your back entrance once more. He pushes your spine, lowering you so that he can press firmly against you. He pushes himself in quicker this time, still hissing at the tightness as he pushes through. 

"So full," you groan into the pillows when he sheaths himself completely. Dave bares his teeth in delight, circling his wiry hairs against your ass, moving within you.

"You're so deep," your whine, turning your head to the side. "I can feel you so fucking deep." 

Dave looks pleased with himself. 

"Ever take a cock this big?"

"Uh uh," you whisper, shaking your head. "And never had it feel this good." 

Carol can only watch as Dave's cock saws in and out of your tight hole now, your body rippling as he rocks against you. He's on his knees behind you, hands on your waist to hold you in place. You're both sweating, writhing on the sheets that Carol herself bought last spring. Dave's hair is sweaty, stuck in parts of his forehead. 

“Such a tight little hole,” Dave grunts, going onto one knee and thrusting faster.

Carol almost laughs darkly seeing him in the same position he was when he proposed to her. But he wasn’t fucking her up the ass in the bed during that.

You're a drooling mess under him, bouncing on the mattress as Dave fucks himself deeper into your ass. The headboard is slamming against the wall, clacking in time with Dave's furious pounding. 

More squelching sounds fill the room, combining with Dave's guttural groans and your desperate whines. He grips the lace around your wrist, holding it as he tilts back; fucking you and watching his cock disappear. 

"Such a little slut," Dave growls, slapping your ass with his free hand. "Can't get enough of this married cock, can you?" 

He slaps your ass again and you buck under him like some slutty horse. Dave gasps lowly, his hips jerking. 

"Next week I'm working from home, you're gonna dress up in that little costume I bought you. Understand?" 

"Yes, yes," you breathe. 

Dave sits back on his heels, his big hands on your hips. He fucks slowly into you, taking his time to extend the sensation of being buried inside you. He maneuvers you back and forth along his turgid cock like you’re his own little cocksleeve.

"You're gonna come into my office and I'm gonna fuck your ass while you wear it. Gonna fuck your ass in every room in this house." 

You can’t even reply. Your tongue is lolling out of your mouth, your eyes rolled back. Carol feels sick, swallowing the rising bile when you suddenly cum. Your thighs are shaking and your cries are almost a shriek and cause Dave to smile widely. 

"Uh huh, you cum with this cock in your ass you slut," Dave instructs. He's got your hair in his grip again, he's tugging you, jerking your head back. "Gonna fuck you through it."

Your entire body is shaking now, your arousal sliding down your inner thighs as Dave continues. Your whining, your body still rolling, still urging Dave to keep going.

"I wanna fuck you when she's home," Dave rasps, his hips thrusting forward and back in a frenzy. "When she's in the shower I want you here on the bed. Gonna need to keep quiet while I pound your pussy. Wanna fill my slutty little babysitter so you have to finish the rest of your shift stuffed with my cum." 

He's rambling now; Carol recognizes the signs that her husband is close. All the things he's saying are just falling over her like a crumbling ceiling. 

"Anything you want," you shudder, still cumming as he continues. You're completely fucked-out, gooey and loose. You're not fighting anything, just laying there letting him pound himself deeper and deeper over and over. 

"You like having a married man's cock in your ass?"

"You like fucking the babysitter?" 

The two of you laugh out loud at this obscenity and for some reason that's what sets Carol off. Not that you're fucking each other in her bed, but that you're laughing together. Dave looks down at you fondly.

“You liked that ring, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

The ring? The one Carol can’t find? The one she went crying to Dave about because it belonged to her grandmother? Carol feels her cheeks turning into angry red circles.

“You’re gonna get another one tonight,” he promises. “Because I’m about to ruin you, little girl. You won’t be able to sit down for a week.”

Dave pushes you down brutally, and now he takes his hands and spreads your cheeks. You croon desperately, muttering how you want him to fuck you hard and how you can take it. He pulls out slightly, watching your hole flutter, desperate to be filled. 

"All for me," he murmurs as he shoves his cock back into you.

You moan at the intrusion, your body falling into sync with his. With all his strength he fucks you into the mattress, grinning when you cry out in ecstasy. His hips are pounding into you from behind so hard that the slaps of your connecting flesh crack in the air. 

The bed is shaking with the force of your fucking; the two of you grunting back and forth until Dave's thrusting begins to taper. He's going to cum. 

"Happy anniversary to me," Dave shouts into the air, his body arched over yours like some kind of animal as he ruts deeply, about to release his creamy load in your ass.

“Happy anniversary to us,” you gasp under him. “Can’t wait to celebrate it again and again.”

The two of you are laughing before movement out of the corner of Dave’s eyes catches his attention. He turns just in time to see his wife Carol exit the closet a wild look in her eyes. Dave can see the safe in the closet is open, confusing him. He realizes what's happening just in time for Carol to pull the trigger. 

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || He Forgets Your Birthday

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

When you woke up that morning to an abundant amount of messages from everyone but Chan you were slightly disappointed about it. You'd expected Chan to have remembered your birthday but it turned out it had gone to the back of his mind and you didn't know if you should be angry about it or not. It was fast approaching time for Chan to submit another comeback idea so he'd been working harder than usual lately but so had the other guys and they had all remembered to wish you a happy birthday.

"Thanks, Lix," You giggled looking at the small box of cupcakes that were on the table in front of you, your eyes watering a little as you saw the icing on each cake spelt your name out.

"I didn't know if Chan-Hyung had arranged anything for you, so I wanted to do something small." He smiled at you and you let a single tear run down your cheek, slowly looking at Felix who was frowning.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No....N-No, he just...He forgot." You admitted and shook your head, quickly wiping the tears off your face and trying to move past it. It seemed silly to be crying over it in front of Felix when he knew just how busy Chan was with everything.

"He forgot? How? He has it written down everywhere...There's no way, maybe he's just trying to surprise you," You shook your head at him and nodded over at the door where Chan was sleeping, he'd come straight home and collapsed into bed which you didn't blame him for he must have been exhausted but it hurt. Before you could even begin to process what was happening Felix was making his way over to the door and slamming it open, Chan flinched as he turned around to face the door.

Unlike you'd thought Chan had been in the bedroom, hunched over his laptop and working.

"Are you kidding me?!" Felix cried out when he saw the older boy sitting there,

"It's your girlfriend's birthday and you're in here pretending as though she doesn't exist?"

"Lix, it's fine. He's clearly busy," You tried to pull Felix away but it was like trying to get a bone from a dog - damn near impossible.

"It's not her birthday until next week."

"It's today." Felix combated him shaking his head, normally Chan was on top of everything but it was obvious the idea of submitting a comeback was getting to him a little.

"No. It's next week because I have it written down, right...Yn?" He slowly turned to look at you and as much as you wanted to tell him it was next week, it wasn't.

"It's today," The air seemed to grow thicker as Chan came to the sudden realisation that he'd missed your birthday and his stomach dropped.

"No...N-No, because I booked us a table at your favourite restaurant and I even hired a small boat to take us on the river for a while," He shook his head going into his computer calendar and his face dropped as he realised.

"Yn...I-I'm sorry," You could tell he was sincere about it but you were still hurt inside about it, everyone else had managed to remember but not him.

"It's fine," A blatant lie and anyone with a working pair of eyes could see that so Chan rushed over and wrapped his arms around your midsection.

"I promise I'm going to make this up to you," He whispered in your ear, trying to think of anything he could do to make up for fucking up this much.

MINHO:

It was obvious to the boys what had happened and now they were staring at you and feeling guilty even though they had nothing to feel that way for. It wasn't them who had forgotten about you on your birthday, it was Minho who was still completely oblivious to it.

"Aren't your forgetting something?" Chan asked as Minho walked into the dorm's living room and made his way past you, his eyes scanning over each of the boys before his eyes landed on you but you refused to look at him. Not only had he forgotten it was your birthday but he was ignorant about it as well.

"Happy Birthday Yn!" Changbin yelled out finally having enough of Minho not saying anything and you looked down at your hands. It suddenly felt awkward to be sitting here when all of the boys had remembered but your own boyfriend had failed to.

"I'm going to head home for the night-" You tried to get out but Jeongin shook his head at you, he was very much looking forward to spending the night with you.

"I thought we were going to watch cringey movies and gossip," Jeongin whined as you stood up, reaching for your bag.

"I'm not really in the mood right now, I'm sorry." You smiled weakly and Minho stared at you, his stomach dropping when he noticed the boys watching him waiting to see what he was doing to do.

"Yn-"

"Don't...Minho...Just don't. Everyone here remembered my birthday except for you, do you know how that makes me feel?" The boys slowly made their way out of the room leaving the two of you to discuss this privately.

"I didn't mean to forget."

"Just like you didn't mean to forget our anniversary? Do you even care for me? Even a little?" The words tore through him and he wanted to cry at the thought of you thinking he didn't love you,

"I adore you Yn, you know that." He reached out to touch your arm but you stepped away from him and shook your head. As badly as you wanted to believe him, the part of you that was hurting wasn't going to let this go so easily.

"I don't...You're always off doing whatever, forgetting things that are supposed to be important and I'm left to wonder if you even love me."

[X]

The next morning Minho had gone straight to your apartment and covered the living room with bouquets of your favourite flowers, as well as getting some decorations he found.

"What's this?" You frowned coming down into the room and frowning when you saw him sitting in front of you,

"Happy Birthday," He smiled weakly at you, holding up a present as you bit down on your lip.

"I wanted to try again, so we're pretending today is the day and that I didn't almost fuck up the best thing that has happened to me," He brought you closer to him and you smiled weakly, kissing his cheek softly.

CHANGBIN:

"Are you sure he knew about it?" Felix questioned as you finished packing up the final box of decorations that had lined the room the boys had rented for the night. He was directing his line of questioning at Jeongin who had planned the whole night tonight,

"How would he forget? It's her birthday." Jeongin whispered looking over at you, the boys had planned a surprise party for you, not your boyfriend but your boyfriend's friends and you were starting to feel sick at the thought of Changin not being here.

"Maybe he got lost on the way to the venue," Felix suggested once he realised that you could hear everything that they were saying,

"Or he forgot," You mumbled, shaking your head to yourself, it wasn't the first time Changbin had forgotten something important and you knew it wasn't going to be the last either but that didn't mean it hurt any less. The door to the room suddenly slammed against the wall and a sweaty-looking Changbin was standing there, drenched in a thick layer of sweat and panting heavily.

"I got here as quickly as possible," He looked around the room and then over at you but you refused to even look in his direction, wishing the boys goodbye before making your way out of the venue with Changbin hot on your trail.

"Yn, I- I don't even know how to begin to say-"

"Don't say sorry because we both know you won't mean it." You shut the boot of your car and stared at him, your arms folded over your chest as you stared him down.

"How can you say that? Of course, I'm sorry." He whispered, his eyes softening as he looked at you. There were tears running down your cheeks but you tried not to draw attention to them.

"Then how are you always forgetting things? If it's not my birthday it's our anniversary...or the times you forgot we had dates." He scoffed at you and shook his head, there was only one time that had happened.

"That's happened once!"

"Four times." You scoffed, getting into the car but he held onto the door preventing you from shutting it on him.

"Let me make it up to you?"

"I would, but I don't know how you can do that. It fucking hurts Binnnie," Your voice cracked as you let the tears stream down your face, the door was pulled wide open and you were suddenly pulled free from the car and into Changbins arms.

"I will find a way, please...J-Just don't go home alone, let me come with you." He begged as he rubbed your back softly, your arms tightening around him as you nodded your head at him.

HYUNJIN:

Hyunjin smiled at you as you sat beside him in bed, you watched him closely as his smile slowly turned into a frown,

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He chuckled softly as he slowly got out of bed,

"I'm just waiting for something." A couple seconds of silence went by before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, smiling at you before heading into the bathroom without so much as a "Happy birthday."

"Baby? Are you forgetting something?" You called from outside of the en-suite door, waiting for him to remember but the door opened.

"You're right! How could forget!" You smiled brightly, finally happy he seemed to have remembered so quickly but he walked past you, took the towel and headed back into the bathroom again souring your mood within a couple of seconds.

[X]

The rest of the day you'd spent completely alone, deciding that if Hyunjin hadn't remembered then you were going to spend the entire day alone doing everything you loved.

"Where have you been? I've been texting and calling you for hours." He said as soon as you walked through the door,

"I spent my birthday doing everything I wanted to do since someone forgot." You stared at him and watched as the clogs in his head began to turn over and he realised how badly he'd fucked up that morning.

"Yn-"

"Don't." You warned him, shaking your head as you made your way through the house, taking your bags up to your bedroom as he followed behind you.

"I spaced! I'm used to working on your birthday, I just-"

"You forgot. No biggy," You lied, even though it was a huge biggy, you could see just how much it was stressing him out and while you had been mad that morning there was no use making it worse now when he was clearly having a hard time with it. 

"Big, Big, Biggy," He shook his head at you, holding you from behind.

"Let me order your favourite food, and tomorrow we will do everything you could ever want." He held you tighter as you nodded at him, smiling a little as you relaxed in his arms.

JISUNG:

You walked into the studio with a picnic basket and some bottles of water, sitting on the sofa as you watched Jisung through the small glass window inside of the room. As soon as he saw you he smiled and walked through the door,

"What's all this?" He nodded to the picnic that you were laying out in front of him and you smiled a little. You knew when you'd woken up that morning that he'd forgotten your birthday but you knew Jisung well, he was a cute hamster that forgot his own lyrics and there was no way you could be mad at him for forgetting your birthday. As much as it had upset you, you'd decide to get on the better side of it and come out smiling. There was no need for a huge fight when it was clearly something that could be remedied by you talking like adults or you acting mature about it. It wasn't as though he forgot every year, in fact normally he was on top of everyone's birthdays, always the first one to message so clearly it had been a mistake this morning, one you could easily forgive him for.

"Birthday picnic, I knew you'd forgotten but I wanted to come and spend lunch with you," You smiled as you pulled out the hotter food, Jisung's bottom lip trembling a little as he scratched the back of his neck

"I didn't...I-I didn't forget...I-I was just-" He tried to come up with something - anything - he could say to try and make you believe him but he couldn't and guilt began to swim over his body. With the stress of the job weighing on him, it must have slipped his mind and he felt awful for it,

"Relax baby, it's fine. Honestly, please just eat with me?" He nodded sitting beside you as you took out more than enough food for the two of you, both of you beginning to dig in while Jisung apologised to you for forgetting.

FELIX:

It had been a week of silent treatment for Felix and he was beginning to lose his mind a little. Usually, the two of you would get into a fight, you'd give him the silent treatment for a couple of hours and everything would be fine again but clearly, this wasn't a normal fight the two of you had. Not that there was a fight, Felix just remembered you no longer speaking to him,

"You're really not even going to look at me when we're in the same room?" He questioned as you stared down at your phone, scrolling through a random news article you had no interest in.

"What did I even do?" He stared at you, completely oblivious to everything he had done last week. It had been your birthday and you happened to share it with a few of Felix's friends while he had spent the day wishing them birthday messages and calling them to let them know he was thinking of them he hadn't even so much as wished the same to you.

"It's what you didn't do." You mumbled, locking your phone and placing it face down on the table in front of you. All of the other boys had remembered, you'd even gotten a couple of gifts from them each but Felix was blind to it all.

"What is it I didn't do?" He whined a little, he was sick and tired of beating around the bush and to be frank, so were you. It was annoying having to tiptoe around the subject.

"My birthday was last Friday." You stared at your boyfriend and watched as the realisation hit him, his mouth beginning to form an "O" shape,

"So while you were wishing everyone else a happy birthday I was alone...the whole day with not so much as a text from you." You sniffled a little, it was still fresh in your heart and you hated how much it burnt to not hear from him that day,

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I thought my own boyfriend would remember something so simple." You began to cry into your hands and instantly he was sitting beside you, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he bought you to rest against his chest. 

"I'm so sorry Yn, I'm so fucking sorry."

"Do you know how much it hurt to see you wishing everyone else a happy birthday but me?" You sniffled as he continued to hold onto you,

"I'll make it up to you," He promised but you didn't say anything, you just cried into his chest softly as he held onto you.

SEUNGMIN:

All day long Seungmin felt as though he'd been forgetting something and it had bugged him too much, even when he walked into the house something still didn't feel right.

"Do you ever feel like you forgot something important but you can't put your finger on what it is-"  Seungmin stopped as he walked into the living room to see you sitting with the boys and surrounded by some presents and cards.

"I see I forgot something very important." He whispered as you stared down at the card in your hand, thanking the boys for coming to see you when they did.

When they eventually left Seungmin was following you around the house while you cleaned up, apologising over and over again but you refused to even acknowledge that he was talking to you.

"It was an easy mistake." He told you as you shook your head, standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom. Right now you didn't even want to look at Seungmin nevermind share a bed with him for the night,

"An easy mistake is when you forget to pay a bill, or when...O-Or when you forget to pick someone up but not forgetting your girlfriend or four years birthday." You shook your head at him about to shut the door when he placed his hand on it, preventing you from doing so.

"It's the first time in four years I forgot, that has to make up for something." He whimpered a little and you shook your head, softly shutting the door and going to get ready for bed.

[X]

The next day when you eventually decided you could no longer avoid Seungmin he was all over you, pampering you with kisses and extra attention, he'd even managed to get the day off so he could at least attempt to make up for yesterday.

"I made breakfast, and I got some of your favourite movies ready," You stared at him as he pointed over at the living room, everything was done to look cosy and you hated how much you wanted to give into him for all of this.

"I don't have presents until tomorrow-"

"It's not about presents Seungmin...It's about you remembering it," He nodded his head, pressing a small and gentle kiss to your cheek,

"I will, I promise." You hummed a little at him as he lead you into the living room, making you sitdown on the sofa before he bought everything into you.

JEONGIN:

As soon as the front door shut Jeongin could sense that he was in some kind of trouble and he instantly wanted to get back into the car and drive to the dorms.

"Babe?" He called out to the dimly lit house, slowly beginning to make his way up to the bedroom where he figured that you would be waiting for him but when he got there he frowned. Small sniffles were coming from inside of the room and you sounded as though you were whispering to someone else. Jeongin's hand stilled on the door handle as he listened to you,

"I just can't believe he forgot," You sniffled louder this time and you shook your head, you knew it probably seemed like a stupid thing to cry over but you hated Jeongin for forgetting your birthday.

"He embarrassed me in front of everyone Lixie. Mum was looking forward to showing him off to everyone and he just never showed up...N-Not even a text to let me know he was busy." You began to cry into the pillow and Jeongin's stomach dropped as he listened to you talking about him.

"My birthday, how could he just forget? Am I that forgettable?" You questioned angrily, sitting up in the bed as you thought about it more and more. That was when you noticed Jeongin's shadow under the door and you sighed wishing goodbye to Felix before waiting for Jeongin to walk into the room. As soon as he did there was a sheepish look on his face and he whimpered a little, you looked like you'd been crying for hours. There were tear stains down your cheeks, your eyes were swollen pretty badly and not to mention they were also bloodshot.

"Baby-"

"You forgot...You actually forgot," You bit out a little angrier than you'd intended but you couldn't believe he'd just managed to forget your birthday. It wasn't as though they had any promotions going on at the moment either, come to think of it he was supposed to be on holiday so you had no idea what had been so important he was able to forget you all day.

"Words and actions will never make up for what I did. I know, I fucked up and I intend to make it up to you for the rest of my life." He whined as he got into the bed beside you, slowly wrapping his arms around you and bringing you into a tight embrace your heart fluttering as you relaxed in his touch. You hated your heart for giving in to him so easily after what had happened today,

"How did you forget?" You probably didn't want to know the answer but you knew the question was only going to gnaw at you until you got an answer from him anyway,

"I don't have an excuse, I just blanked. I went to see my brother and we went for food, I just completely blanked on it, baby," You nodded at him, you were glad he was being honest with you about it rather than lying but it still didn't make you feel any better about being ditched all day.

"Tomorrow, we're spending every second together. You'll get breakfast in bed...I'll treat you like a queen." He promised as he began to kiss your cheek and slowly down to your shoulder, pampering you with kisses up and down your neck and shoulder.

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi @sw33tnight @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms  @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @lost-leopard-beanie @djeniryuu​

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Here’s uhhhhh more than that from a buddietommy vacation threesome fic-

The day is hot enough that Buck is curled up like a bug on the dock between them. He’d stayed in the water longer than Tommy or Eddie had, and had swum out further than either of them, so when he’d crawled back up onto the old wood planks he’d chugged an entire water bottle and promptly passed out. Eddie glances down at his bare torso, just starting to get a little pink.

“Should probably get sunscreen on him again.”

Tommy snorts as he leans backwards, stretching out to grab the spray can. “And you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to be a dad.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie says as Buck, still asleep, makes a similar sound when Tommy mists him all over with cold sunscreen. “It’s been months, man, that’s so long for a kid, who knows what he’s even into now-”

“Minecraft, right?” Tommy says as he smooths his hand over a few places the sunscreen pooled on his boyfriend’s back. “Wasn’t he on a video call with you and Buck about it for like three hours on Friday? Something about- uh- command blocks?”

Eddie is mildly impressed Tommy remembers the word — maybe — because he certainly doesn’t. Buck had only been slightly better at following along than he had as they’d squinted at the probably impressive pixels on the laptop screen. “I don’t know, I just feel like…” Every morning, still, he wakes up and thinks he needs to get Chris’ breakfast started. Whole parts of his being are wired around taking care of his kid, but since he’s been gone Eddie has been trying — in fits and starts and most of the time guiltily — to figure out what the rest of him is for. It’s part of what got him into the whole mess in the first place, chasing after the dreams of a 19 year old who got those dreams from his parents. A nice wife (but they never liked her, did they) and a good job (but firefighting is too dangerous, isn’t it) and a picket fence (one closer to home, Eddie, you’ve gone too far away.) So he owed it to Chris, owed it to himself, to figure out what the fuck he actually wants, so he doesn’t keep twisting himself into knots and taking out everyone around him when the line breaks. He’s not sure he’s any closer to whatever that is — other than it’s unlikely to include a wife of any kind — but in the time he’s taken trying, what if other things got lost in the upheaval? “I keep thinking I’ll just- not remember to do something. Forget how field trip permissions slips work, or not know what shoe size he wears, or- I don’t know. Anything. I won’t pack his lunch and it won’t be the end of the world but he’ll be hungry that day.”

Tommy leans back on his palms and looks across at him, quiet and thoughtful for a few moments in that way he has, like he’s thinking through every possible response before he speaks. He is, maybe; he’d confessed to Eddie that he’d spoken too quickly when he was younger, is embarrassed about a lot of the dumb shit he’d said, so he tries to take his time with his words now. “Eddie. You took us up here this weekend to check and make sure this place is accessible to take your kid to this summer. And- I get that’s a big thing, a big gesture, and maybe you’re worried about messing up the small stuff, but… You’ve still got his favorite kind of jelly in the fridge that nobody else eats. You love him, and he knows that. You’re gonna do fine.” He shrugs. “And he’s almost fourteen, if you forget to hand him lunch he’s gonna let you know.”

Eddie huffs a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess he will.” He groans a little, shaking his head. “Fourteen years old, that’s fucking crazy. I don’t feel old enough for that to be true.”

Tommy rolls his neck so it audibly cracks. “Yeah, yeah, you whippersnapper.”

Eddie grins at him. “You feeling the exercise, old man? Need to go lay down?” He cackles and leans away as Tommy grabs the can and sprays a burst of sunscreen at him.

Between them Buck grunts at the commotion, and rolls towards Eddie. He presses his face into the meat of his bare side above his trunks, and wraps his long arms around his torso. Eddie glances up at Tommy, who just looks fondly amused. “Uh. Wrong guy, there, bud.”

Buck stills, and then pulls back a little to squint up at him. Eddie’s not particularly ticklish, but something like goosebump are shivering across the skin of his stomach where Buck’s forearm rests against him. He has to actively try not to shudder as Buck pulls back and rolls the other way, Eddie watching hypnotized as he gives Tommy the same treatment. Buck presses a little kiss onto Tommy’s hip, in the spot he had just been cuddled into on Eddie, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry.

Tommy lets out a little breath, and Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be able to use the sun as an excuse for how pink he’s gotten as his eyes snap up to the other man’s face. Except- he’d been expecting a raised eyebrow, a flat mouth, some visual indicator of disapproval, that this is one step Buckandeddie too far, that all the rest of their codependent lives have been fine, a platonic kind of care built over years of being there for each other through the worst of the worst, but now the uncomfortable answer to what Eddie wants, the uncomfortable answer he’s been trying to avoid because it's something he cannot have, has been found out and the messy insides of him will have once again ruined something good. But what he finds is a tiny little smile and heavy eyes that-

Well, they don’t look disapproving in the slightest.

“You guys hungry?” Buck mutters, words muffled by Tommy’s skin. “We should go start the grill.”

Tommy’s little smile gets wide and lazy, eyes still stuck on Eddie. “I could eat,” he says.

Tagging @iinryer @shitouttabuck @butchdiaz @chronicowboy @homerforsure @rewritetheending @bigfootsmom if you have anything you want to share!

[kunaigirl]

Long post ahead, but I really want to talk about this...I think? Oh lord here we go, lol. Anyways, confession time!

I struggled with illiteracy and learning to read for a chunk of my life. I've mentioned it (in passing) in this post that I made about my experiences with having epilepsy, but I decided to make an whole post just for this for a change.

Somewhere around when I was in the second grade, I lost my ability to read and write due to a bad seizure I had. (That combined with the medications I was given too.) A lot of my memories are blank from that era, except for a very few instances I remember clearly. What I do remember though, has nothing to do with the seizure or even what lead up to it, all of that's still gone to this day.

I had lost my ability to read, and also was diagnosed with dyslexia during the quest to re-learn from scratch. (On top of already being diagnosed with ADHD when I was about 6.) I remember very vividly how HORRIBLE everything felt. I couldn't remember the names of things, and I had to re-learn, from preschool up, both reading and writing from scratch.

Somewhat luckily, I didn't lose anything else besides those chunks of memories and my ability to read, and I still remembered who I was, what cartoons I liked, my favorite music, etc. But suddenly, I couldn't read the CD titles anymore. I couldn't read the VHS covers. It was gone, ripped away from me very suddenly, and I knew it was missing. I knew that I already learned how to read and write, but it was forced out of me by a malfunctioning brain. I was home schooled because of it from grades 3rd-5th. (2003-2005)

In the third grade, I had made just enough progress to get books for 5 year olds. Everyone around me acted so proud, but all I could do was cry. I was humiliated. I felt so incredibly stupid, as being illiterate leaves you with no choice but to feel stupid. I threw those baby books around my room and sat on the floor crying. It wasn't fair, I didn't do anything wrong, it was my damn seizures. I had no control.

When I went back to public school for 6th grade, I got called stupid, the r-slur, illiterate, slow, basically every name in the book. Both kids and adults, all throughout those years while I continued to re-learn in real time. In middle school, my reading level was still low for my age, and I had to be in a special program with extra assistance and teacher accommodations. As soon as word got out, the kids were RELENTLESS. It was 06-07, nobody cared about bullying/etc, especially for a public middle school. The bullying never stopped.

I kept working and studying, slowly making progress. Years of struggling, learning to cope, inventing my own short-cuts to help read a little easier, using rulers and paper edges to help guide my eyes, everything. I was still in "special" classes with accommodations all through high school too. My senior year of high school, I graduated on the honor role list. Did that make me happy? It felt nice for sure, but better? Not by much. I knew how hard I still struggled, and still felt very embarrassed by it all. I'll never forget.

As a kid, the pain I felt was so intense. Physically from the seizure, and in every other way with having to re-learn how to spell t-r-e-e. Starting over with pre-K toddler books at 7. Kindergarten level at age 8, and a first grade level as a 9 year old. The feeling of having my memories ripped away just enough to leave me unable to recognize the symbols that decorated everything from posters to TV to book covers. Being told by a room full of doctors and neurologists what had happened, and being quizzed and tested to see what I still had left.

I have never forgotten those long nights. Even though I was a child, the shame and guilt and fear I felt were VERY real and very tense. And the jokes/remarks from both kids AND adults, the notebooks filled with raw squiggly anger, the uphill climb to regain what was taken from me. I will NEVER forget it. Even in college, I struggled with those heavy textbooks and their tiny fonts. I did well enough, but no one else struggled the way I did with them. I did my work and wrote my essays, but it would take full entire days. It still does.

At times, as an adult, I still get stuck on words. I can obviously read and write again, as you can see with this exact post, but it's not over. I struggle with certain fonts, and some books are just to difficult. I still work at it and still try as hard as I can even to this very goddamn day. It never truly ended, all these years later, 20 years later, I still sometimes fight to understand. I feel like an angry and humiliated kid again in those moments, but I'm not that kid or teen anymore. I lived thought it somehow.

I had a dream back when I was 17, where I'm standing in from of my 9 year old self and that pile of baby books. She's crying and looking at me, desperately. I walk over and hug her, proudly telling her "We read The Great Gatsby in high school, and we understand it."

To anyone who has struggled with illiteracy at non-toddler-points in their lives, I see you. To anyone who's struggled with reading comprehension, I see you. To anyone who struggled with writing, I see you. We don't talk about it enough, and I want to change that. I don't want to hide that side of my life experience anymore. Fuck shame, we climbed out of it.

And to this day, a copy of "The Great Gatsby" is still on my shelf. Because I read it in high school, and 9 year old me would've thought that was the coolest achievement ever.

[marymary-diva17]

The neglected sully (2)

The great mother holds all her children dearly, and love them all. She also gives extra love for the ones that are alone, forgotten, and hated for something way out of their control. That is your life and has always been your life, not seen as a sully or member of clan. This is the norm you live and the life style that you learn to adapt to over the years.

y/n “ ......." you had woken up left the home this morning you are still thinking about kawwney offer and words. maybe you will take up his offer and join his clan as you didn't fully belong here. Yes you did have your grandmother and the humans but they will not always be around to keep you safe from harm. Barely your siblings had been helpful at times as they will do their best but stay out of the way at, times in fear of making Jake and neytiri mad.

y/n " great mother will they ever see me for myself or always hate me for something out of my reach and control" you had gone to the spirt tree to sneak out some answers, for the questions and thoughts running through your head.

y/n " I know I'm not supposed to be selfish for this but there are times where I do wish Jake and neytiri treated me, as their daughter and not some bothersome I wish my people and all the others saw me as one of them and child of eywa"

y/n " I having a feeling that will never happen as I will never win them over, no matter what happens I will always be the sully that hated ... I don't know if I should call myself a sully ... what does a child call herself when she can't take on either her parents name" soon a wood spirt had come by you making you smile, as you other soon landed on you. It felt like a warm hug or touch making the great mother was watching over you after all.

????? " y/n" you soon heard your name getting called spooking the wood spirts as they soon floated away from you, as you soon looked around and saw your brothers coming.

y/n " brothers what the matter"

lo'ak " we came looking for you as you had been gone when we started breakfast"

y/n " oh yes I had some matters that need attending"

neteyam " It good we found you all of the teens and kids have been given some time off, and we want you to come as well it will be fun"

y/n " oh sure coming" you had soon followed your siblings back to the village and where you father was standing.

Jake " where have you boys been, I haven't gone over the rules yet"

neteyam " we went to go get y/n dad she our sister and apart of the group right"

Jake " sure whatever"

lo'ak " what are the rules dad"

Jake " just stay together and keep an out on your younger sister, remember to stay out of trouble we don't need the rda finding us right now"

the kids " yes sir"

Jake " y/n I'm allow you to go out of the goodness of my heart but stay out of trouble I don't need your siblings or anyones else bring dragged into your mess or getting hurt"

y/n " yes dad..."

Jake " what was that"

y/n " I mean yes sir"

Jake " good and one wrong move young lady you will be facing punishment for whatever happens, and all it will be on you and no one else will be taking the blame right neteyam"

neteyam " yes sir"

Jake " good now go have a good day my sons"

neteyam " dad what about ..."

y/n " come on we don't want to keep everyone waiting we leave us a group and come back as a group" neteyam and lo'ak nodded their heads and soon walked with you towards the waiting group.

tuk " y/n you are coming with us"

y/n " yes I'm it will be fun day"

navi teen boy " why is she here anyways she no one of us"

navi teen girl " I dont know why she was allowed to come she barely does anything, while we do all the work"

navi teen boy 2 " she such a freak my dad said oloeythan will send her away soon and we will be all good without her"

spider " shut up all of you"

y/n " spider save it the fight not worth it come on lets go we can have our own opinions about today" your siblings and spider had nodded their heads and soon, the group of teens and kids had head off together to spend the day having fun.

sometime later

y/n " ......."

kiri " what the matter"

y/n " Jake and Neytiri yesterday and Jake today I don't think they will ever love me"

kiri " they love you sister they just having a hard time .... I don't know"

y/n " you don't need to make excuses for them kiri we all know I will never be the daughter or child they and the clan want"

tuk " well we love you and want you"

y/n " thank you sister"

spider " if you most know and you might know already norm and the other adults human are not very happy with Jake right now, for his treatment of you"

y/n " well it good to know they are always there for me"

lo'ak " we can spend later talking about mom and dad we shouldn't allow them to always be like this towards you, and we will make sure it stops now come on lets have some fun"

neteyam " yes let go and today you will be us sister as we can be a family" you had nodded your head as you soon spent the day with your sibling having a good time.

y/n " ......." you had taken a break from all the fun and decide to rest for a while and keep watch out for any dangers, the group was taking turns of keeping watching in pairs or groups.

neteyam " you know you don't have to keep watch let me do it"

y/n " no I can do it have some fun you have been spending alot of time working and training to take over Jake rile"

neteyam " okay but I will be back to switch places with you"

y/n " okay" you were not the only one watching over the group, you had been making sure everyone is okay and that no trouble was coming, but that times it hard to stop danger from coming. In many different ways sometimes it out of anyone control. The day everyone was playing on the grass or water. There was a tree everyone had saw and started climbing having a good time.

y/n " huh" you soon heard something that got your attention as the ground started to shake and the sound of something was in the air, it didn't take you that long to know what was coming.

y/n " everyone hide now" the group was looking at you trying to understand what was happening.

neteyam " sister what happening well us"

y/n " They are here we need to get everyone from away from here now"

lo'ak " who is here tell us"

navi teen boy " she mad we all know it she can't tell anything"

kiri " umm everyone she right looks" some trees had been seem to shake and loud metal sounds had been heard.

y/n " get the little ones now listen to what I have to say" it was to late rda Mac suits had been seen along with flying aircraft as well.

neteyam " eveyrıne run into the forest now run" everyone soon took off those with little siblings grabbed them fast, taking off into the forest.

rda " we found the navi kids"

rda 2 " get them we can't let them get away"

y/n " tuk stay with kiri and spider everyone run and don't look back and whatever happens keep on running" everyone had soon taken off running some of the teens firing back arrows or tossing rocks.

neteyam " we have to keep running we will lose them soon"

lo'ak " they are not giving up the chase"

spider" somehow they found this location that was unknown to them"

y/n " we can deal with that later we need to get everyone home and warn the grown ups, we can't stop here"

spider " so what do we do"

y/n " run" the group had nodded soon finding the hiding group of teens and kids, and soon take off together. You had fired an arrow making a tree fall a bit blocking the suits from follow you the group. The group was running as everyone was thinking they are safe but soon a blast and went off sending everyone fall to the ground hard.

neteyam " ahh"

y/n " brother are you okay"

neteyam " fine as I will ever be" everyone seem to get hurt from the blast but as aircraft was about to hit them once again, soon the calls of warriors and ikran had been heard the group had been saved by the clan warriors. It seems like the blast had taken a tool out of everyone as everyone had fallen to the group in pain or knocked out, so did you as everyone had become blurry and you could no longer here anything.

hours later

y/n " ummm" you had finally woke up to a horrible headache and so much pain.

mo'at " you are finally awake thank you great mother" mo'at had held you as you looked around and saw some healer, as they looked at you.

y/n " grandmother where is everyone else are they okay please tell me no on was killed please"

mo'at " no everyone it fine my dear everyone it hurt but no has went to see the great mother today" you had looked at your grandmother feeling some peace, but that peace was soon ended when Jake came into the hut.

y/n " can I see my siblings and spider they are not here can I"

Jake " you"

y/n " dad"

Jake " this all your fault" Jake had grabbed your arm and started dragging you out of the healer hut.

mo'at " Jake let her go she needs to heal"

Jake " no she needs to answers to what she had done"

y/n " what I have done"

Jake " yes look what you have brought upon the clan" you had seen the youth of the clan were in the homes, but they were all badly injured and not moving that much.

mo'at " Jake you need to clam down we don't need the clan in uproar"

Jake " they need to be mad as she caused this all"

y/n " no sir the rda found us it was all bad luck no one could tell"

Jake "silent we all know you were supposed to be on watch and you had failed getting everyone hurt"

Neytiri " demon child you have had to out for you siblings and everyone as they are love and cared for then you"

y/n " no that all lies"

neytiri " now look what you have done you brother neteyam might leave to see the great mother, lo'ak is hurt badly and hasn't woken up ... your sisters are hurt as well all because of you"

y/n " no it not what you think"

Jake " we have all asked them and it leads back to you everyone said you are the reason the air craft followed as it followed you, and you might be the reason you all were found"

y/n " no I helped everyone escape and fight back I will never endanger my family or clan lives"

navi women " she to blame our kids might not live normal lives she to blame"

navi man " yes the demon girl has betrayed us are we sure she hasn't been working with the rda"

y/n " dad"

Jake " enough I said you wrong move from you will lead to punishment and now look what you have done, it will be better if you were the only one hurt but now look where you have done hurting the clan youth and now we might have to move ... you are selfish"

y/n " ......."

navi adult " she evil look what she has done to my kids our clan children" the crowd was upset and yelling they wish for something to happen.

Jake " you are here by exiled and banished from the clan y/n"

mo'at " Jake she your daughter"

Jake " I don't care she was never my daughter and will never be my daughter after today she is dead to me and my family"

y/n " what"

Jake " leave this clan and never come back neytiri had done you favor back packed you stuff" neytiri had dropped a bag of your belong near you feet she couldn't look you in the eye.

y/n " listen to me please I didn't do anything wait for everyone to heal and give ma trail please"

Jake " no this is your trail you are nit allowed you and are seem enemy to the people and don't go to the other clan near by, as they know you are not wanted her and they wish nothing to do from you as well" tears were rushing down you face from heartbreak and pain Jake soon brought you toward outskirts of the village and pushed you away.

Jake " if anyone see you they have rights to chase you away from the lands you are not one of us"

neytiri " you will never be one of us leave now we are giving you one last nice gift so leave now and never come back here, we have no third daughter only two... you are worthy of being one of the family or clan"

mo'at " Jake sully don't due this you will live to regret what you have said and done"

Jake " mo'at there is enough thing I regret already but I will not regret this ever, you can stay here to speak with her but after this day I don't have a daughter named y/n I never did and never will" you didn't say anything else as your grabbed your stuff and started walking away, getting cold glares from the adults behind you there was no going back now.

time later

y/n " I'm all fixed up now" you had gotten done bandage up your arms and legs that had been scrapped because of the fall, when you heard something gain your attention.

y/n " who is there"

mo'at " it me my child I came to see you but I didn't come alone" mo'at had soon shown herself along with norm and max, they both seem upset and disappointed.

y/n " norm how is spider is he okay I'm sorry I should of done better"

norm " he will be okay but will need to rest and we watched but he will be okay"

y/n " grandmother I'm sorry I should of done better"

mo'at " you did enough you fought and kept everyone alive"

max " we came to see if you need medical help" you had nodded your head mo'at and max attended to your injures.

norm " where are you going to go kid"

y/n " I have a friend that offer me a place to stay if I ever left on my own or had been kicked up ... looks like I was kicked out of my home and clan"

mo'at " I wish you can stay but ..."

y/n " Jake sully words is law now it will not be safe for me anywhere and stay with the humans will be trouble for them, so I will take my leave"

norm " we had bene planing to keep you with us away from the clan"

y/n " thank you but I'm doing this for you safety and it my time"

max " time for what"

mo'at " for her to forge a path of her own it time for her to discover what the great mother has planned for her... my granddaughter I will miss you"

y/n " I will miss you as well grandmother and norm max I hope to see you all one day in again and if that day does not come, I will meet you in the afterlife of the great mother"

mo'at " take these stuff you will need it with you and my blessing as well"

y/n " thank you"

norm " here take some stuff as well just in case something happens" norm had placed some human technology in mo'at bag for you as you called you ikran, soon taking the bag and making sure to was sourced on your ikran saddle.

y/n " goodbye and may the great mother watch over you three and everyone else" mo'at hugged you one last tears falling down her face, and your face as well. Soon the hug had ended and you soon hugged norm and max, once hugs were over you got on your ikran. Signal I see you to the tiro one last time before you took off into the sky leaving, and heading towards where you new life will started. You had looked back at your home one last time as tear fall down your face, you hopes one day to come back but knew that might not happen.

Very late that night

y/n " umm we made it here" you had soon reached the inland and land your ikran as it was night time, but it seems like you had drawn attention.

warrior " who goes there" some warriors had come to see what was the matter, as some people are looking our from their homes.

y/n " I friend of kawwney I have this necklace to prove it" you soon showed your necklaces.

Warrior " that is his work what is your name"

y/n " y/n" one of the warrior left to go tell kawwney of the news it didn't take them long.

kawwney " y/n what happened"

y/n "trouble had come and I was kicked out I'm banished from the forest .... I came to take up your offer"

kawwney " good"

ronal " what going on here ... dear great mother what has happened to this girl"

kawwney " she needs help she badly hurt r"

ronal " bring her now so I can attend to her" kawwney soon picked you up and carried you off to the healer hut. That night you had been helped as your injuries had gotten worse, during the travel. That next day you had meet tonowari and ronal, who allowed you to stay after hearing the story and Learning a bit more of kawwney then you haven't know before. Your new life began with the ocean but the forest will always be your home as well and hold a special place in your heart.

[skelliko]

Kazutora Hanemiya |°- crushing misunderstanding

|°-context: kazutora is crushing on you but he sees you and akkun walking together and assumes that you're both together making kazutora's heart to break not knowing that you and akkun are simply friends - mainly fluff not angst

final time line: 4th Division Captain: Kazutora Hanemiya Vice-captain: Atsushi Sendo (Akkun)

kazutora couldn't help but notice the scene that he had accidentally stumbled upon on, before he was gonna ignore it and think nothing much of it until he double looked and his heart managed to stagger in emotions, akkun walking with his school crush. kazutora's school crush.

despite akkun being Vice-captain of the forth division and them being good friends there's still things that kazutora doesn't mention and one of them being is who his heart flutters to.

his mind went to so many scenarios and reasons as to why, out of everyone it'd be you two who walk together and not only that but also holding little brown bakery bags, as if you both had bought a sweet desert together, and are about to enjoy it in each others company.

'no no no no no... their not though? are they?!' his mind was more than a mess

theres no other explanation other than your both either on a date or dating. or even worse, in an actual relationship. kazutora's mind went to so many lengths as he pondered and stalked you both, hiding behind corners, bushes and bus stops to wherever you both are walking to,

he was desperate to find out what was going on even though he knows he needs to let go and back tf up.

'akkun has never mentioned having a girlfriend though, let alone that he's talking to a girl...' that certainly reassured him a little but only for a few seconds when his overthinking took over again

'but maybe that's cause no one asked or mentioned anything! and here he is with the girl that I like, for fucks sake!'

he tried to get close to the both of you to try and hear what you guys were talking about but while doing so self awareness had hit him, he didn't want to get caught lurking around, if a bystander seen what kazutora was doing then a clear title would be placed on him 'stalker'

he kind of just stood there in the middle of the pathway, watching as the both of you walked ahead having your own little moment. it was like kazutora was a small puppy being cast out and away from it's owners. for a short moment he had grown upset, he accepted that him and you were never gonna be because Akkun has already taken your attention.

when he took half a step backwards to turn around and not invade your privacy any longer, it was then that you had turned around making kazutora to be captivated. it wasn't just your beauty that had made him freeze and his heart to grow wings and flutter but it was you smiling and waving at him... him, kazutora, no one else, your eyes were stuck onto kazutora.

his heart was left uncontrolled and skipped all around his body whilst his main focus was to bite down the corner of the inside of his mouth to stop him from smiling like a little kid and getting all giddy for you just simply noticing him. it felt unreal to him in that moment that he had forgotten to wave back, and he was too busy on not smiling like an idiot that he didn't even smile back at all. well now he feels like a complete fool and should be shut out of society forever.

*inserts image of grieving shinji on a chair* -how kazutora feels right now

a whole week went by after that encounter, and since then in school kazu and you haven't had a full conversation, sure you've exchanged a few small words but then he'd cut it off with an excuse to leave all due to wanting to give respect for you and akkun.

before, the both of you would be talking non stop in the middle of lesson, being the teachers most annoying students that can't shut up and are always an nuisance to deal with. it's gotten to the point where after you both stoped talking even the teacher pointed it out Infront of the whole class, "some argument happened between you two?" like c'mon... why is it always those teachers that think they can get involved and think pointing things out to be funny. they get in-between everything.

it left an empty pit in his stomach not being able to talk to you the way he wants to. all because in this setting he chose to put his friends first before himself.

-- some time later ---

"so akkun, you got any plans with y/n?" asking that question hurt him more than it should have, but he needs to get over it soon enough. only after he gets an understanding at what stage the both of you are at. 3 month mark? secretly wishing.

"don't think so, why'd you ask?"

"nothing nothing, just curious. I'm surprised that she'd be with someone like you" it was supposed to come out as regular boy banter and laugh it off but instead he didn't watch his tone and grew blunt about it as if he'd meant it. in which he did.

it took akkun a few silent seconds to process his response and what kazu had just assumed "be with?" purposely ignoring kazutora's sudden burst of agitation and instead focusing on the question itself. "you think me and her are together... as in dating?"

"well you two seem to be quite close, no?"

"kazutora. no. were friends, full heartedly friends" while motioning his hands out to emphasize how baffling and wrong kazutora's question was.

if crickets were around the city they'd be loud, but instead all there could be heard was the click of kazu's tongue before replying "...Oh. shit"

akkun couldn't help but snort out a laugh, whereas kazutora on the other end was looking back and regretting everything which included ignoring you. but he had a good reason to, right? I mean how exactly was he supposed to know that you two were just friends?

many ways actually, sure, but he put his friends first and that's what had mattered, before at least. now, kazutora is trying to figure out ways on how to approach you without seeming like a douche for abruptly leaving and then coming back.

"wait, you like her??" it only then clicked into akkun's head making him perk up about why you even became a conversation topic.

"I bet she hates me" burrowing his face into his hands and feeling all sulky. didn't fully answer akkun's question but that small sentence answered a lot without meaning to.

"you do! you like-like her!" first time hearing about this and he instantly stood up from his seat, oh he was gonna have fun with this information. he can either tease the hell out of kazutora or help him out. but currently he'll torment him first.

"keep it down! dont need anyone hearing" lifting his head up from his hands and looking around the open area

"who's gonna hear? I'm not name dropping, or unless you're embarrassed" tormenting kazutora by making him think of you.

"of course not... maybe. but that's besides the point" kazu ended up explaining things from how he saw you and akkun but left out some details such as him following them to how things went with you and kazu at school.

"dug yourself a hole there I'll be honest, why didn't you ask me first before assuming?" -akkun

"didn't want to draw much attention on the subject"

"oh right right..." not right actually, don't exactly know what that was supposed to mean but didn't want to press on about it. after a short moment of silence it seemed like something was supposed to be done otherwise dragging the gap between you and kazu any further and it might be too much to fix. though luckily a little plan had settled into akkun's mind, after all he was close enough to you to be considered good friends. "I'll help you, don't worry"

♡----

a/n: I could have written the plan/aftermath n' that but I got lazy

[arsenal-womens-1]

Marry me

June 10th, 2021.

You're sitting on the bus on your way to CASA Arena Horsens stadium, freaking out. You had only been told today that you are playing, which means this is going to be your debut for Denmark. How you got to this point in life is still a mystery to you. The bus comes to a halt. Getting up, you walk off the bus. There are people taking pictures. Getting in there as fast as you can, you walk over to where your top is. Yours is next to Pernille Harder. Setting your bag down, you all walk out to the pitch. Spinning around, you look at all the seats, feeling like you're about to be sick. You rush over to the closest bin. You feel someone's hand on your back. Looking up after you finish being sick, “I don't think I can do this.” She passes you a water bottle. “You can. It looks scarier than it actually is. You're just going to scare yourself if you think about it too much. You're here for a reason.” You get where she's coming from, but it's still petrifying.

As you're walking in, the Australians are walking out. One catches your eye. She has brown hair, let's say she is about 5'2'' or 5'3''. She looks around your age. Walking into the changing rooms, you see Pernille on the phone, probably to Magda. She has a game tonight, which starts, I think, like 30 or 40 minutes after ours starts. Setting down next to her, you lay your head on the wall that is colder than you think a wall would be. Pernille nudges your shoulder. She points her phone your way. You see Magda on the other end of the phone. “Hey, how you doing, kid? Pernille said you were sick.” Looking at Pernille, she betrayed you. “I'm good, just nerves, that's all.” Magda and Pernille are like your mums at Chelsea. You had got offered a contract last December, you accepted it, and now you're here.

After 30 minutes, you're back out there doing warm-ups. The Australians come out about 5 minutes after you, doing something you've forgotten the name of. You make eye contact with the girl from earlier. You give her a small smile. She returns it, turning away. You finish what you were doing, walking back to get changed into the kit. After about 5 minutes of nothing, you get talked about tactics one last time. Walking to the seats, you wait for them to walk out and do the anthems. 20 minutes later, the whistle is blown. In the 15th minute, Tameka Yallop scores an own goal. Six minutes later, Rikke Sevecke scores for us. Four minutes later, Mackenzie Arnold scores an own goal. The whistle is blown, 3-0.

Walking into the changing room, everyone was happy. We talk about the changes that are going to be made. Simone Boye Sørensen was going off; I was going in, and Stine Larsen was out, and Luna Gevitz was in. Walking back out, the ones going in stand on the right side, and the Australians on the left. I recognize a few faces, but one, her, you still don't know her name. Well, now you know her last name, Cooney-Cross. Your number goes up, 28. You run into position. You hear the person announce your name, then they say, "Number Caitlin Foord out, Kyra Cooney-Cross in." So her name is Kyra. The game starts. Nothing really happens; a few yellow cards are given out. Nothing really happens until in the 87th minute, Mary Fowler scores. In extra time, Clare Polkinghorne scores. The game ends 3-2.

Walking around, you shake hands with a few Australian players. You come up to one player in particular. “Hey, you did good out there.” You both shake hands. “Yeah, you too.” Before you can say anything else, you are called over to do an interview.

————————————————————————————

The next part of this will be out sometime next week

[prince-liest]

was recently talking to a friend about qi rong which then lead to me going on a reread of my favorite qi rong fic EVER, and now I’m in my feels about him, his relationship with his family, and his relationship with xie lian and guzi.

I just love qi rong a lot. to be clear, he’s a horrible little gremlin and that is a lot of WHY I love him - but I also think that fundamentally qi rong is a character who is super traumatized but does not receive sympathy for that trauma because he is not traumatized in a “palatable” way which is a trend that starts when he is young and just never ends, canonically, at any point in his life

right from the bat: the first 5 years of his life, he's being physically and emotionally abused, he's cast out to live in a shed, his mom is forgotten by her family. by the time she finally escapes his abusive father and goes back to the palace, her elopement with him has been swept under the rug and most people don't actually know what happened - and are then weirded out by her and qi rong, causing all the children and even most adults around qi rong to basically refuse to interact with him. so he's abused and hated, then isolated to the point where nobody talks to him, nobody plays with him. the one time he thinks he succeeded at attempting to make some friends, it turns out that they tricked him into writing a death wish for himself and his mother on his lantern.

and all the while, he's watching xie lian and the adulation he receives, not understanding why xie lian gets those things and he does not. everyone always says he looks like xie lian. he’s even called xiao jing, like he’s a mirror of the crown prince. what’s the difference?

and then xie lian himself is the only person aside from his own mother to be genuinely kind to qi rong. qi rong is desperately lonely, envious and fixated on the cousin that nobody will stop comparing him to, and then said cousin is the only person to reach out to him with kindness. of course he wants to attach himself to xie lian and emulate him.

unfortunately for both of them, then his mother dies - not just randomly, but specifically in defense of xie lian’s mother, and having extracted a promise for xie lian’s parents to care for qi rong. however, things don’t actually change at that point. sure, they take him in and buy him whatever he wants, but as far as love and care are concerned, xie lian is really the only potential source of those things left for qi rong. xie lian is also a teenager with a lot of pressure on his shoulders and a lack of understanding of difficult situations. of course he doesn’t know how to raise his traumatized, misbehaving cousin! and nobody else bothers to. it’s deeply unfair for xie lian to be used as the singular tool to discipline and direct qi rong, and that directly contributes to their extremely soured relationship.

now that qi rong’s mother is dead, there is nobody left around that actually wants him or is willing to put effort into properly raising him. when a kid turns out as wild as qi rong - that's not just random happenstance, that happens because they weren't parented right (or at all). he acts out in increasingly insane ways for the attention everyone hates to give him - anyone's, but especially xie lian's, which sucks for xie lian because it should have been his parents providing qi rong with an authority figure and source of love, not xie lian's teenage self. and people respond by waving him off, giving him whatever he wants just to make him go away, and ignoring him, because he has a deeply off-putting personality.

and it causes everyone around qi rong to resent him in this vicious cycle that escalates his behavior because he doesn't know what else to do - until eventually even xie lian, the one person that he really looked up to, hates him too.

obviously qi rong is an awful person by the point we reach in canon, but I also think that if he had received regular hugs as a child and maybe some actual parenting from someone who didn’t beat him, instead of just being given a bunch of money and being told to fuck off

specifically because he was weird and traumatized and unlikeable

things would have turned out very different for him. because he very clearly tries - that’s one thing that’s very clear in the flashbacks and even continues to modern canon: qi rong really tries to get love and attention, and when that doesn’t work, he just escalates to “any attention, bad attention, attention that proves I’m worth something, proves wrong all the people saying the supposedly-amazing cousin that took away my only source of kindness when he started hating me, is so much better than me”. he starts out an awkward, off-putting kid and ends up the night-touring green lantern. of course he holds enough resentment to end up a calamity. his cannibalism shtick doesn’t even read as genuine to me, it just seems like he picked out “what’s the worst, most attention-grabbing thing I can possibly be to pre-emptively justify everyone’s disgust in me” and landed on that.

(see also: I think it’s hysterical that he has very strong opinions and abilities as pertains to gourmet cooking, and then just uses them to lure in victims so that he can have his meal of Raw Unseasoned Human Flesh. you can’t tell me he’s doing it for anything other than the bit at this point.)

and that’s also why I think his weirdly wholesome relationship with guzi also makes a lot of sense. qi rong is a shockingly decent father to him (eventually), probably in part because he overidentifies with guzi also being abused by his father, but also, because guzi is literally just a kid and therefore is not someone that yet has the capacity to have all these preconceptions about qi rong, nor for qi rong to read into his words and be insulted, because. that's just a kid. there’s nothing to read into.

I think his treatment of guzi (eventually) shows that he's capable of being at least kind of decent (or at least functional), he's just never been in a circumstance where his trauma and relationships let it happen. his material life was always supplied for, but his emotional and familial environment in xianle was invariably toxic for him.

anyway, I think qi rong needs a shower and a hug, in that order, and then to be forced to learn to interact with people who don't immediately assume the worst of him. thanks for coming to my TED talk, I know it was long as hell.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 10

The first of two chapters today. Next week will finish up this story, so yay!!

Steve has a rough day, Jeff comes to the rescue and deserves hazard pay for dealing with the two idiots (Steve and Eddie). And Nancy and Jonathan cameo.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9

TAG LIST IS CLOSED FOR THIS STORY

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve put on his chain shirt and tunic admiring himself in the mirror. Yesterday it was sort of haphazardly thrown on. Today he took careful consideration to make sure everything was in place.

He grabbed his wallet and keys and then picked up the little dice bag. It just hoped it wouldn’t be too big or two small. He stuck the first two items in his right pocket and the bag in his left.

Now all he had to do is get up the courage to give it to him. He picked up Lucas and Max first.

When Lucas came out the house wearing the pirate outfit which had been his backup, Steve had been surprised. Then Lucas explained that he had wanted to match Max.

While Steve could appreciate the sentiment, Saturday was the biggest day. The one where everyone would see it. So to say he was a bit crestfallen when Lucas came out of his house would have been an understatement. If they had wanted to do that, why not yesterday?

But he bit his tongue and let them do what they wanted.

Lucas and Max wolf whistled when Robin came out all decked out in her beautiful blue dress and matching corset. She was still wearing her pirate boots, but mostly because she didn’t want dirt on the hem of her new dress.

She did a cute little spin and then bowed at their applause.

It was only when they were in the car that Steve realized that now they looked like a couple. And on the day he was supposed to be confessing to Eddie.

He knew Eddie was aware of Robin proclivities toward her own sex and that Robin was only wearing to look pretty at the jousting tournament, but that feeling gnawed in his chest that everyone else would think Robin and he was a couple.

Well not the Party.

And it did it really matter what strangers thought?

More than Steve would ever admit out loud.

****

They arrived to see only Gareth and Brian waiting for them.

“They wanted us to rely their apologies,” Brian said grandly. “But they fucked up the schedules again.”

“What schedules?” Dustin finally snapped. “No one has told us anything.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them.

Gareth tapped the side of his nose. “That’s because it’s a surprise. But let’s just say that the people running the Ren Fair are trying to have two events at the same time and in the same place.”

“That’s lame,” Mike hissed. “I hate stupid adults.”

Gareth wrapped his arm around him. “No truer words have ever been uttered.”

Steve then got to watch as all the kids paired off and the older teens wander off in directions Steve wasn’t interested in going. Even Robin had abandoned him to take Max and El to see the ax throwers.

He didn’t have anything he had wanted to do until just before lunch so he went to Damsel in This Dress. He couldn’t wait to show off his little pouch for her to see if it was something that would sell.

But when he got there, the place was slammed. Steve could even see a large, burly man with a long thick black beard with a single white stripe on the left side of his chin was scampering around trying to take people’s money while Katie answered questions.

Steve took out the pouch he had made for Eddie and then looked up at the tangle of people in front of him. He would have to come back later. But he knew when she would be the least busy, and Steve wanted to go to the joust, too.

He let out a shuddering breath and turned around. He figured he could kill sometime wandering around the marketplace and browse.

He still had some money leftover and it was the last day. Maybe he should buy something for himself. He spent so much time and effort and money on everyone else he had forgotten to get something for himself.

But now, everything had been picked through. He still had his little dagger he thought sadly. Maybe he would come back after the joust when the crowds had thinned a bit.

The last lunch was a horrid affair with everyone fighting over the food, trying to get someone to try the haggis. Finally Steve just picked it up and threw it away.

Five bucks down the drain because these kids were assholes.

He still hadn’t seen Eddie.

Steve let out a pained sigh and went to go grab the pouch to rub it between his fingers for comfort when he realized it was gone.

“Shit!” he swore.

“What is it?” Will asked, the first zero in on Steve’s obvious distress.

“I had a small black pouch I–” he stopped. He didn’t want to tell them he had made it for Eddie. “I bought earlier,” he finished lamely. “And it’s not in my pocket.”

All the kids stood up and started looking around.

“Where did you last have it?” Robin asked, rubbing Steve’s arm soothingly.

“The dresses place,” he muttered. He couldn’t remember the name just then.

“I didn’t see that they were selling that sort of thing there,” Lucas said. “Why did you have it out?”

“I was going to show the owner, Katie,” Steve groused. “She liked my tunic yesterday and wanted me to give her stuff for her to sell for me and I was going to show the pouch to see if that was something she might want from me.”

He picked at the sleeve of his white undershirt. The cuff had the Harrington Pattern and his lip began to wobble at the sight of it. He wanted to take his seam ripper to it and just tear it all it out. He was too stupid to hold onto such a simple thing as pouch, he didn’t deserve to sell his pieces.

“We don’t have time to go look for it now,” Max said gently. “We’ll all head over there after the joust.”

Steve nodded and allowed Robin to lead him to the arena where the jousting would be held.

He was trudging up the stairs to bench seating when he heard a voice call out behind him.

“Steve!”

He turned around and saw Jeff waving something in the air. Hope lit a small fire in his chest. It couldn’t be.

He went thundering down the steps.

“Katie said you left this at her shop,” Jeff said a little breathless.

Steve gently took the pouch from him. “Thank you so much. I thought I had dropped it somewhere.”

Jeff grinned. “It’s for Eddie, isn’t it?”

He ducked his head and nodded.

“How do I thank you?” he breathed, his eyes welling up with tears.

“Just be sure to root for the black knight,” Jeff said with a wink.

“I will I promise.”

He turned around and searched the stands to see where they had all gone and to his surprise Jonathan and Nancy were waving at him sandwiched between a grinning Will and a pleased Mike.

Steve’s day was starting to look up. He sat down in the empty spot next to Robin at the end of the bench.

He showed her the pouch.

“Yay!” she squealed, throwing her arms around him. “I’m so glad you found it.”

Steve leaned forward and told them. “Jeff said to root for the black knight.”

Dustin leaned over too. “Aren’t black knights the bad guys?”

“Nope!” Steve said with a grin. “The black just means that he isn’t loyal to a specific lord. He’s a traveling mercenary looking for work in the only profession he knows. War.”

Everyone nodded.

Steve started explaining the history of the sport and what the different points were and how to win. Even what they won.

They were all hanging off his every word.

Steve felt a tap on his shoulder and he looked up. Callahan waved at him shyly.

“This is Sheila, my girlfriend,” he said. “She had a question about the joust.”

Next to the police officer was a pretty brunette in her early thirties. She wore bright red lipstick and was blushing.

She swatted at Callahan’s arm. “He doesn’t want to hear my dumb question.”

Steve grinned up her. “I’m happy to talk anyone’s ear off. Wha’cha got?”

She asked about if the lances were sharp and Steve explained that they weren’t. They even had wide tips to make the shock of the hit go over a wider area so the lancers didn’t get hurt.

****

In the cover of the stable where Eddie was helping Jeff, Jeff turned to him.

“That boy has got it bad for you,” he said pushing Eddie’s shoulder playfully.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.” He straightened up and popped his back. “You remember Louis?”

Jeff winced. He did in fact remember Louis. “Me and Bri still maintain he had a crush on you, he just wasn’t out yet and freaked on you.”

“Well,” Eddie huffed. “Steve ain’t out either, so I’m not touching that...” he made motions with his hands, “all that mess with a ten and a half foot pole, man.”

Jeff rolled eyes. “Look, I’m not saying I know for sure, but according to Gareth, who is the densest motherfucker on God’s green earth, said Steve was really sad when we weren’t there this morning.”

Eddie picked a pimple on his jaw nervously and Jeff swatted his hand away.

“I don’t want to ruin my friendship with Steve,” Eddie murmured. “If it goes badly I’m going to lose some of the kids in the divorce. Dustin and Red are the two biggest ones. They like me, but they love Steve.”

Jeff had to concede that one. “So make sure it doesn’t go south. Woo the bastard. You know how. And don’t give that bullshit about it being ‘only’ pretend at DND because I’ve seen you turn on the charm to get cheaper product from Reefer Rick or to let Gareth who isn’t even close to being twenty-one to perform at a bar.”

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, all right. You win.”

Jeff threw his arm around him and kissed his cheek. “Yes!”

Eddie pushed him off him. “Go on, your squire awaits!”

Jeff laughed but wandered off to finish getting ready.

Eddie shook his head fondly. But Jeff had a point. He couldn't wallow forever.

He had a Harrington to woo.

****

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

And lo! There is the wild Callahan everyone expected to spot when he came to Steve's door all the way back in chapter 3.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED

[worriedvision]

Fatherly Headcanons: Wriothesley, Dr Ratio and Heizou.

So I've chucked in Heizou to this because I think the idea of that man having kids is hilarious and the other two are too serious in terms of thoughts lol! Mentions of pregnancy here, reader has biologically had the kids.

If you want one where the kids are adopted, please let me know! Heiziou calls reader 'mommy', but there's no actual kink stuff otherwise!

Wriothesley:

-When you had told him you were pregnant with your first child, you braced yourself for him dumping you on the spot or asking for you to get rid of the child.

-To your surprise, he held back his excitement when asking how long it was, your plans, everything. He wouldn't be able to leave the fortress, but he was already thinking of the best child-friendly room that your child could stay in.

-You decide to keep the child, to Wriothesley's excitement brimming as he twirls you around and kisses you.

-As a dad, he's not the dad who's strict. It's not that he doesn't want discipline - it's that he knows you'll be the one telling off the kids when they've really been rude.

-When the child is a baby, Wriothesley can't stop smiling as he looks at this child - so proud that he has a family despite his initial situation upon entering the palace.

-If your children don't listen to you, he'll warn them with a reminder that once they committed a crime worthy of sentencing, he would not be light on them.

Dr Ratio:

-news quickly spread when you had told your husband you were pregnant, to which he uncharacteristically smiled warmly as he pulled you in, holding your abdomen as he promises to be the best dad in the entire universe.

-definitely the dad that knows fine well that his child is not sick and is simply skiving off, to his child's dismay.

-similarly, he also knows when your child needs a break - which he happily calls the school to inform them he has been experiencing concerning symptoms.

-Changes when you show up with the packed lunch you prepared for him, your child with you.

-"Oh, I must have forgotten my lunch. My darling spouse, you really are the back bone of the family. And this little squirt must be happy to be part of your life, my darling." He pinches the cheeks of his child before standing back up, kissing you softly on the lips before patting your cheek. "Careful - if you aren't, we may have another on the way."

-He is his usual self with everyone else, in the way of dismissing them and wearing his constructed head when he deems it worthy.

Heizou:

-Basically like you're looking after him as well as the child.

-"Mommy, Mommy! What's for dinner!" He would exclaim, to his child's embarrassment.

-"Dad, give mom some time."

-Definitely the guy you didn't think wanted a family. When you told him you were pregnant, he surprised you - he told you that it was a sign, that you two were meant to be.

-As annoying as he was, essentially being like another child, he raked in the money with his job - moreso than usual.

-If he were to cook, there's a chance he would either nuke the entire meal or undercook it to the point you would get sick.

-If you were to have a second child, however, he would mature a bit more. Kujou Sara (a mutual friend) scolded him for being too childish after he ranted to her about you being too serious with the child (after you had cried in her arms about feeling like you were alone in the parenting process).

-After the second child, he begins to actually try - get you the snacks you're craving that he knew from the first pregnancy, take parental leave to keep your first child in check while you took some time to catch up with friends.

-He wobbled at first, but he's more responsible than most give him credit for. Depend on him - if you need more sleep, tell him and he will work his magic.