#truth is i hate scott so much <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[not-neverland06]

the newlyweds

Pairing ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Logan Howlett x fem!reader (Flux)

a/n: I wrote this at 3 AM and I'm also pretty sure I'm sick, so bare with me. Based on this: ask

You know Logan can't stand you, but it doesn't stop the way you feel about him. Your mind recognizes the hate in his eyes whenever you're in the same room, but your heart can't. Finally, you come to terms with the truth: it's never gonna happen. However, your newfound resolve is flipped on its head when you're forced to go undercover with him as newlyweds. Your new wedding ring is a noose and you don't know how you'll survive it or him.

You stumble forward as someone knocks into you from behind. Their shoulder jams painfully into your ribcage and you trip into the wall in front of you. “Shit,” you hiss, rubbing your back and turning around to glare at whoever it was. You figure it's a kid skipping class, imagine your surprise when it’s a fully grown man practically growling at you. 

“Where the hell am I?” He darts forward, grabbing you by the arms and jerking you towards him. “Who are you people?” You’re stunned into silence, eyes wide with shock as he pushes your spine into the wall behind you. 

You recognize him now. This is the man who was with Rogue in the truck you, Ororo, and Summers rescued. The only reason you don’t toss him across the room and rip his spine out through his throat is because you know how disoriented he is. Though, with the way his claws threaten to pierce your skin, you are tempted to. 

“Ah,” a familiar and welcomed voice sounds out from beside you both. “I see you’ve met Flux.” Charles rarely ever uses your actual name, mainly introducing you through your X-Men persona. It’s a preference of yours. 

The man’s eyes dart between you and Charles, and your own turn into slits the longer he keeps his tight grip on you. “Wanna let me go now?” You demand voice practically a growl. Your patience has never been wonderful, but he’s really working on your last nerve. 

He blinks, seemingly coming back to himself. With an almost regretful look, he lets you go. You sigh in irritation, straightening your shirt out and shoving past the corner he’s pushed you into. “Who the hell is this?” You snap, moving to stand behind Charles. 

He gives you an apologetic look, “I’m not sure. He hasn’t introduced himself yet.” He gives the man an expectant look. Instead of answering he glances around, and scoffs. 

“What is this, summer camp? You people don’t need to know me, I don’t need to know you. Just show me how to get the fuck out, alright?” Finding Charles’ school had been heaven on earth. He’d provided you with a home and a haven you never thought you would have the privilege of. You’d never shown anger in the face of his guidance or generosity. But many have. 

You can tell, as much as the man in front of you might believe otherwise, he’s going to be enjoying the comfort of Charles’ protection soon. You move to the side, leaving them to their conversation. Instead, you focus on keeping the kids away from the newest form of entertainment. You usher them towards their classes, despite their reluctance. 

The other members of the team soon join you all, introducing themselves. “Storm, Cyclops,” he scoffs a little at Scott’s name and you feel a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. He turns towards you, brows furrowed inquisitively, “Flux?”

“Matter manipulation,” you explain bluntly. He shrugs his shoulders giving you a blank look. Sighing you hold out your hand and gesture to Charles’ desk. With a flick of your wrist, it melts into an unnatural form of liquid wood. Logan’s eyes widen and you can’t help but finally let the full smile form on your lips. “Flux was just what fourteen-year-old me thought fit best.”

He nods, turning back towards Charles with a smarmy grin. “And what do they call you, wheels?” Your eyes widen with shock and an unbidden laugh surges forth. Charles sends you a playful glare and you have to turn around to keep from laughing more. 

You’d thought you wouldn’t like this one. It’s always bad when there’s a member on the team you don’t get along with. It’s not common, but it has happened. They simply keep you separated if they can. The school is wonderful, but it’s not perfect. Not everyone will like each other. You think you and Logan will get along just fine, though.

It started slow, barely noticeable at first. You didn’t know him well enough to understand that the way he treats you is completely different from how he treats everyone else. Where your greetings are brushed off with cold shoulders or the occasional glare, others at the very least get a brief mumble of hello. When you speak, you can practically feel the irritation wafting off of him in waves. You taste his hatred in every interaction. 

There’s no exact moment you can pinpoint where you went wrong. Sure, your introduction to one another was rocky at best. But he’d nearly thrown Jean across the room when they first met and they got along just fine. 

You’ve thought about it, for far too long, about what makes you different than the others. Is it your smile? The pitch of your voice? Of course, you understand that sometimes there are just people that you meet and something inside you hates them. There’s never a true explanation behind the feeling, just instinct. 

But you can’t place what about you would make someone so guarded, so mean. It feels like such a childish word, like too simple of a way to explain Logan. The very least you know about him is that he can never be summed up with the word simple. There are secrets buried deep within him, some he knows, others he doesn’t. You can’t just slap a label on him and walk away. 

More often than not, though, you feel like you’re talking to one of your childhood bullies and not a team member. Because, despite your own feelings towards him, at the end of the day you are team members. There’s no getting around it. From that connection comes, what should be, a base level of respect. 

You’re both in charge of protecting one another and looking out for each other on the field. That means when you put on the suit, you’re putting aside petty grievances. But he seems incapable of that as well. 

You’ve spent mornings practicing your greetings, trying to tone down your cheeriness or inflect your voice with a more welcoming timbre. You’ve changed how you dress, how you do your hair, even your makeup. And at the end of it all, you still got the same miserable look and distinct feeling of worthlessness. All of the change has been temporary, you are a creature of habit. Inevitably, you slide back into the same habits and styles that make you, you. 

You feel stupid, trying to change yourself to better fit someone else's tastes. Especially when it’s someone who so clearly despises you. It’s not how you carry yourself, how you look, it’s the mere fact you exist that bothers him. At least, that’s the conclusion you’ve come to in all your months of experimenting. 

It truly shouldn’t bother you so much. There’s always going to be people who don’t like you. There’s nothing you can do about it. And you’ve never had that desire to change other's opinions on you. But something about Logan has dug its claws under your skin and has refused to let go. You can’t get him out of your head, even when you feel like you hate him, he’s all you think about. You’ve considered asking Jean to use her abilities to somehow dig him out of your brain and keep him out. But you don’t think that would work either. 

You step into the kitchen and nearly freeze in the doorway. Logan sits at the island, back to you as he reads the newspaper. You find yourself lightening your steps, quieting your breath. You make yourself as inconspicuous and convenient as possible. Every time you catch yourself doing something like this, you hate yourself just a little bit more. 

You shouldn’t have to alter parts of yourself to better fit someone else’s needs. You slip along the tiles, your socked feet slamming into the corner of the counter as you pass it. “Shit!” You shout, doubling over as you clutch your throbbing toes. 

So much for being inconspicuous. 

Logan’s head shoots up in shock as he glares over his paper at you. You let out a strained whimper, reluctantly releasing your foot and hobbling towards the coffee pot. You’ve taken more bullets than you count, and somehow that still hurt worse. 

You can’t just ignore him, you feel his stare burning into your back, and it feels too dickish-too much like him, to not say anything. “Morning,” you mutter over your shoulder, barely looking at him. You pour your coffee, trying to ignore how daunting the silence seems. You might as well be alone in the room for all the attention he’ll grant you. 

You feel like a beggar, on hands and knees just for a simple hello. Ever since his first night here, he’s been so aloof with you. It’s only devolved since then. You sigh, slamming the mug onto the counter. Something in you has snapped this morning and it’s not just the bones in your foot. You’re sick of this. 

You shouldn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. He’s not a toddler, he doesn’t deserve to be coddled and catered to. He’s a grown man, an X-Men for fuck’s sake. What he needs, is to learn a little emotional regulation. 

You turn, mouth open and sucking in a deep breath as you prepare your speech. The island is empty as you face it, his stool in the same place it had been while he was on it. The paper lies abandoned, even his nearly full mug is still on the granite. 

You scoff, snapping your jaw shut and rolling your eyes. “Jesus,” you mutter to yourself. Wonderful, even the same room is too much for him now. Something bitter has been forming in your mind. A rage building from weeks of unprompted cruel behavior. 

Yet, somehow, the thing that pushes you over the edge from interest to resentment is the fact that he didn’t say good morning back. 

You teach history at the school, but the majority of your role at the mansion is to train children with powers similar to yours. You’ve never met a mutant who had such a broad scope with their abilities as you do. Some can turn water to ice, control the blood running through someone’s veins, or make the air around them a solid block. But you’ve yet to meet one who manipulates anything with matter the way you do. 

Still, for training, you deal with the unreliable, untameable, and generally more dangerous abilities. And sometimes for training, you work with other teachers and let your kids practice on each other. It’s a rotating schedule, and unfortunately, the week you’ve decided you hate him, you’re partnered with Logan for training. 

You’ve got the entirety of Charles’ backyard, which is essentially the size of a football field. It’s a lot of room for accidents and accidental misfires. You stand in front of the pond, admittedly a risky choice with these kids, and direct them all to their partners. 

“Remember, the goal of this isn’t to maim each other,” you give a particularly pointed glare towards Billy. He’s caused a lot of problems lately with his fires. “It’s just to learn how to wield your abilities to your advantage, to protect yourself and your team.”

You look to Logan, seeing if he wants to add anything or contribute to the class in some way. He just keeps his arms crossed, glowering at all the children like he’s imagining skewering them on his claws. Rolling your eyes, you turn back to the kids. “Let's start with the hand-to-hand maneuvers we went over yesterday before we practice with our abilities.”

“Why don’t you show us?” Your head whips towards Billy and you can’t help the sneer on your lips. He’s sat on the ground, legs crossed leisurely over each other. He doesn’t have a care in the world as he taunts you. 

“What?” You grit out, glaring at him.

“Show us what a balanced fight should look like between mutants. You and Logan,” he nods to the aforementioned man. Logan just quirks a brow, glancing at you before turning back to Billy. 

“I don’t think-”

“Fine.” You gape at Logan as he tugs his jacket off. He shrugs as he looks at you, moving towards the middle of the field. Of course, he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to try and pummel you. You’re sure that he’s just been waiting for an excuse to fight you. 

“If that’s what you want,” you mutter bitterly. You pull off your sweatshirt and start walking towards him. 

“Your cuffs,” Billy calls out from behind you. The other students all watch the interaction with rapt attention. They’re practically salivating at the chance to see you two fight each other. Meanwhile, Billy just seems like he wants to see someone bleed. 

The metal cuffs around your wrists are the only thing that stops you from leveling the entire school. Your abilities are so tightly entwined with your emotions that one unlucky bout of anger can lead you to vaporizing everyone around you. They dull your abilities just enough to still be useful but not deadly. You haven’t taken them off in years. And perhaps it’s wrong to lean so heavily on them for protection, but you have. That’s your cross to bear. You don’t even want to picture what will happen if you open that dam. 

“What?” Billy shrugs, sending you a sharp smirk. “How are we supposed to trust you, if you can’t even use your own damn abilities?” He snorts and narrows his eyes at you, “How the hell did you even become an X-Men, Flux?” His name rolls off your tongue with a sharpened venom. 

He oozes hatred and a burning resentment that catches you off guard. It’s too much to process the insults he’s hurling at you and the sudden one-eighty in his personality. You don’t even hear Logan coming until his fist is wrapped in Billy’s collar and he’s yanking him off his feet. 

He dangles him, just a couple of inches, off the ground, teeth practically bared at the kid. “Wanna keep talking, mouth?” 

“Log-” You’re cut off as a fireball shoots out of Billy’s palm and explodes against Logan’s gut. You gasp, throwing up a wall in front of the other kids so it can’t hurt them. “All right,” you call out sternly. “Everyone inside,” you demand, pointing the other kids back towards the manor. 

You linger with Logan, who still has Billy dangling from his fist, only he looks even more pissed off now. Anyone else, and they’d be dust at Billy’s feet. But Logan isn’t anyone else and the only collateral seems to be his shirt. 

Not that you mind the view. 

Billy hasn’t been here long enough to know what Logan’s abilities are, though. You don’t think he actually knew he could heal. The thought alone is worrying enough that you don’t force Logan to let him go. “We need to get him to Charles,” when Logan doesn’t move you put more force behind your voice, “now.”

Logan lets out a low huff before placing Billy back on his own two feet. He doesn’t let him go far, though, keeping his hand around the back of his neck and dragging him forward. You follow behind them, making sure he doesn’t rip him to pieces before Charles can speak with him. 

You sit outside Charles’ office, fingers tapping restlessly against your thigh as you stare at the mahogany walls in front of you. The red velvet of the seat is too soft and you find yourself slipping to the edge every few seconds. It’s too soft, too luxurious, your back aches the longer you wait. 

Charles had instructed both you and Logan to wait for him to finish up with Billy. It’s been nearly an hour, though, and you’re growing restless. You can tell Logan feels the same way. He’s pacing the hall like a caged lion about to rip the arm off its keeper. 

“How are you?” You blurt out, desperate for something to fill the silence. He stops abruptly, whipping around to face you. You flinch back slightly at the intense glare he’s sporting. “Your stomach, I mean,” you gesture towards the scorch marks on his shirt, the soot on his abs. 

It’s been a practice in self-control to not just be staring at his wonderfully sculpted muscles flexing this whole time. You’re pleasantly surprised with how well you’ve been doing so far. Though, now with him facing you, you’re finding it incredibly hard to meet his eye. He’s such an imposing figure, especially when he’s standing over you like this. 

“Fine,” he barks out, turning back around and effectively ending the conversation. Your eyes narrow and you scoff, god, why do you try?

The door swings open and you expect Billy to come running out crying with his tail tucked between his legs. Instead, you hear the familiar whirl of Charles wheels as he rolls into the hall. He faces you and Logan, a strained smile on his face. 

“Where’s Billy?” You slowly get to your feet, peering into his office. Your confusion only grows when you find it empty. 

“He’s away from the other children for now. He’ll need private lessons before we allow him near them again. And if that doesn’t work, we have no choice but to expel him.” You can tell it hurts Charles to say that. 

He does genuinely want the best for these kids. He wants mutants to have a home, a place where they can be themselves without fear of retaliation. Sometimes, though, it doesn’t work out. There’s nothing wrong with that, you all try your best to help the kids. But some of them have been so twisted by the world around them that there’s no undoing the damage. When they pose a risk the way Billy does, the other kids come first. 

Logan scoffs with distaste, stalking closer to Charles. “He tried to kill me, fucking tried to get Flux to take her cuffs off.” He gestures towards you, for once, though, you don’t feel like you’re being attacked. Even he can understand the dangers of that demand is idiotic. It’s clear Billy only wanted to watch everyone around him get hurt, he didn’t care about the consequences. 

Charles holds up a pacifying hand, nodding his head and dismissing Logan’s concerns. “I’m quite aware of what happened, Logan. But Billy is my responsibility and he’s not the reason I needed to talk to you both.”

He rolls back into his office, expecting you both to follow him. You fall in line behind him, taking a seat at his desk. Logan takes another minute to join you both, a reluctant scowl on his face as he sits beside you. Charles waves his hand, the door closing and providing you all with a little bit more privacy. 

He reaches into a drawer on his desk, pulling out a thin manilla folder. He pushes it towards both you and Logan. You share a confused look with Logan before flipping the file open. There are a few pictures of a stereotypical suburban neighborhood. Bright green laws, uniform driveways, each house looks the same as the last. 

There are a few more pictures, all of them taken from an awkward distance that makes it hard to determine what you’re looking at. You pass the pictures to Logan and shake your head at Charles. “I don’t understand, what is all this?”

“Your next mission,” he informs you both with a strained smile. 

Logan’s head shoots up, eyes narrowing in on Charles. “Excuse me?” He demands, his voice a growl more than anything. 

“There have been some disturbing rumors about this neighborhood. Mentions of a possible mutant trafficking ring being conducted behind closed doors. Normally, I would dismiss such claims. Oftentimes these are just ways to bait and snatch mutants. However, my own attempts at telepathic investigation have been thwarted. Even with Cerebro, I can’t seem to breach the neighborhood.”

“Something’s blocking you?” You ask, snatching the pictures back from Logan to get a better look. He tosses the folder back on the desk, muttering something you can’t hear. 

“Or someone. I’m worried there might be some truth to these rumors. And since I can’t find a safe way in, I need your help. You only need to do some reconnaissance. The only problem is how gated the community is. They’re not going to let anyone in unless they live there.”

Charles gives you both a cheekily expectant look. The truth is so hard to swallow that you almost can’t process it. “No,” you mutter, shaking your head and smiling, waiting for the punchline. When one doesn’t come you get up from your seat and give him a disbelieving look. “You want us undercover?”

Charles pulls out a key and smiles widely, “Congratulations on your new home, newlyweds.”

Logan shoots up from his seat, it wobbles precariously, nearly toppling to the ground.  “You want me to move into a house with her?” He spits out the sentence like it pains him to even have it in his mouth. A disbelieving smile spread across your cheeks, sardonic laughter slipping through parted lips. “Why can’t I do it with Jean? Or better yet you just get some other asshole to play her husband?”

Your heart stutters to a stop and you quickly rip your eyes off the pair. The stung worse than you think it should. Your heart aches, each beat painful. You feel like someone’s punched through your chest and ripped at all the tender bits. 

“I have chosen you,” Charles loses all humor from his voice. He is stern, like a father scolding his child, as he speaks to Logan. “And that’s the end of it. Besides, I don’t suppose that Jean’s fiance would appreciate her playing house with another man.” He places heavy emphasis on fiance, enough to get Logan to purse his lips and look away from him.

You speak up, your voice a surprise to them both. You claw through the lump in your throat, ignoring the hot burn behind your eyes. “I’m not doing this. Especially not with him,” you force the words out, wiping roughly at your cheeks. “Shit,” you hiss, looking down and trying to hide the tears that have slowly trickled down. 

You don’t allow either of them to argue, running out of the door and ignoring the calls of your name behind you. You can’t do this. Can’t pretend to be in love with Logan, not when he hates you. Not when it’s so close to the truth. 

Evidently, Charles didn't feel like giving either of you a choice.

You drum your fingers along the door handle. The cab of the truck rattles as the trailer drags along behind you. The trees have begun to thin out on the road, and more shopping centers pop up than you’ve seen this whole trip. It’s the how you know you’re getting closer, that and the map on Logan’s thigh. You steal glances at it because he refused to let you help him navigate. 

Besides the occasional ask for a bathroom break and refuted offer of switching drivers, the four-hour road trip has been quiet. You tried to turn the radio on earlier but he’d shut it off nearly immediately. He claimed that the pop shit they play makes his ears ring. 

You were almost tempted to turn it up to full volume if only to torture him a little bit. 

Logan’s rough voice jars you out of your head, “I’m going to need to know your real name.”

You frown, brows furrowed in confusion. Had you still not given him your actual name? He’s always referred to you as Flux, but you just assumed that’s because he didn’t want you to be an actual person in his eyes. It’s easier to hate someone if you can distance yourself from the idea of them having actual feelings. Still, you can’t believe he never asked someone for it. 

It just shows you how little he cares for you. Reluctantly, you give it to him. He hums, something pensive pinching at his face. “What?” You snap, waiting for him to insult you. 

He just shrugs, “It’s pretty,” he mutters, so quiet you almost don’t hear him. You don’t even know how to respond to that, so caught off guard by a genuine compliment that you just choose to ignore it. You doubt he meant it, anyway. He might think the name is pretty, but he doesn’t hold the same opinion of the person connected to it. 

You sink back into the silence, finding it more comforting than jarring now. You’d prefer the familiar feeling of him ignoring you than the abrupt turn in character. He glances over at you, something like regret on his face as he sighs. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, in what feels like an extension of an olive branch, he turns the radio back on. He keeps the volume low, so it doesn’t bother him so much. But at least there’s something to listen to besides your breathing. 

You turn back towards the window, a white sign surrounded by daises coming up as Logan slows the truck down. He flicks on his turn signal, pulling up to Storybrook Walk. He stops in front of a large wrought iron gate and jumps out of the truck. He runs up to a black metal box, flipping the lid open and typing in the code Charles gave you both. As he gets back in the truck, the gate swings open widely. 

You pull your rings out of your pocket and slip yours on. “Here,” you urge, holding Logan’s ring out to him. He huffs, glaring down at it before snatching it out of your hand. He balances his hands atop the wheel, slipping the ring on his left hand. 

The neighborhood is picture-perfect suburbia. The lawns are bright green and manicured to perfection. You can hear children laughing as they play in their backyards and draw out a hopscotch grid on the sidewalk. Women and men who look like they’re straight from the fifties stop on the sidewalk and wave as you drive through the gated community. 

You mouth the numbers on the mailboxes to yourself, sitting up straighter when you’re one house away from your new home for the next few weeks. “Hey,” you frown, noticing a large congregation of people in the driveway of 1220. “This is our house isn’t it?”

Logan frowns, stopping the truck just before pulling in so he doesn’t hit anyway. “Supposed to be.” He glares at the people suspiciously, “Stay here, alright?”

You nod, watching him as he jumps out and rounds the front of the truck. You roll your window down, fingers dancing along the metal of your cuffs. There’s no way you’ve been found out before you’ve even gotten a chance to investigate. 

“Hey!” Logan’s voice is scary on a good day, but when he feels threatened, it’s enough to frighten a grown man. You can see the people flinch slightly away from him. That’s when you spot the wrapped cookies in a blonde woman’s hand and see children hiding with balloons on the porch. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mutter. You throw the door open, racing after Logan before he does something stupid. “Howdy neighbors!” You shout, speaking over him before he gets a chance to say anything else. You rush up to Logan’s side, nearly out of breath in your haste to get to him. “Is this our welcoming committee?”

You glare up at him and his eyes narrow as he sees the same thing you did. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. 

“Smile and wave,” you whisper through gritted teeth. His lips peel up into something terrifying and it takes everything in you not to flinch back. “What the fuck is that?” You mutter.

“A smile,” he hisses, glaring down at you in irritation. 

A blonde woman steps forward before you can continue your hushed argument. “Welcome!” She calls out in a heavy southern accent, throwing her arms open with a bright smile. She walks as fast as she can in her tight skirt and kitten heels, coming over to embrace you, the casserole in her hand balancing precariously behind you. 

She tugs Logan down into a hug, pressing a kiss to his cheek and staining the skin red. “Surprise!” The kids on the porch jump out with balloons and flowers and she winces. 

“A bit late on the delivery,” she waves it off with a faux chuckle. “But we don’t mind ‘cause they’re so darn cute.” She is very… loud. There’s something about her that is meant to be charming but puts you on edge. She’s got all the familiar characteristics of a woman you’d love to be around, but she’s executing it like someone playing a character. “Shiela,” she holds out her hand, perfectly manicured nails shining bright red. 

You take her hand introducing yourself, “And this is my husband, Logan. Forgive him for his tone, we had an accident on the highway earlier. We’re still a little on edge.”

“Oh no,” she gasps, pressing her nails to her chest and even that seems plastic. “What happened?”

Years of bullshitting your way through school presentations are finally coming in handy.  You think quickly on your feet, something these people would despise. You need something that endears you to them, “Tire blew out and someone tried to raid the trailer while we were fixing it.”

She lets out a disapproving hum and the throng of people behind her echoes it with disturbing harmony.  You find yourself leaning closer towards Logan, feeling like you need to defend yourself against them. You know they’re only an overzealous HOA committee, but there is something uncanny about them. 

Sensing your discomfort, Logan wraps his arm around your shoulder, tugging you into his side. You have to school your features into one of neutrality. You’re supposed to be newlyweds, this is normal behavior for you. His touch feels like ice water being tossed over you, though. His willing embrace makes your head swim with distaste and skepticism. 

“Well,” a man steps forward. He’s conventionally handsome, with brown hair cropped short, slight stubble on his cheeks, slacks, and a button-up that he fills out nicely. His smile, however, stretches too wide and shows too many teeth. A shiver crawls up your spine as he places his hand on Shiela’s shoulder. “You won’t have to worry about people like that here, that’s for sure. John,” he offers his hand to Logan, bypassing you completely. “Head of the HOA here at Storybrook.”

“Nice to meet you, John” Logan falls just short of sincere. He towers slightly over John and you can see that he’s squeezing his hand just a bit too tight by the wince of Jouhn’s face. You dig your elbow into his side and he drops his hand immediately. 

Your gaze drifts over their shoulders and your stomach drops. The people behind them all hold dishes full of food and gift baskets. Their smiles are pinned to their faces, never once flinching out of place. There’s no joy in their eyes, though. They’re glazed over like they’re a million miles away. You would think they were mannequins before you even considered them human. 

“Long drive?” Shiela asks, your eyes dart back to hers only to find her intense stare already wholly focused on you. 

“Yeah,” you answer, clearing your throat of the panic rising in it. “We’re gonna have a fun time unloading this,” you laugh humorlessly, motioning towards the trailer.

She waves her hands in dismissal. “Don’t you worry about that, hun. That’s what neighbors are for after all.” She looks behind her, snapping her fingers a few times. The other’s start going towards the trailer and you feel Logan tense under your touch. 

A kid reaches it first, they manage to unlock it before you shout, “No!” It’s too loud, echoing through the street and making you clench your eyes shut in embarrassment. You turn back towards Shiela and John, both of them wearing shocked expressions. You chuckle awkwardly, “There’s just a lot of family heirlooms. I don’t want to risk them being damaged.” There are no heirlooms, just empty boxes and surveillance equipment that you'll have no chance of explaining away.

Shiela purses her lips into a tight smile, eyes turned to slits as she nods. “Of course,” you know she doesn’t believe you for a second. “Well then, we’ll just take all this inside.” She snaps and the others take their casseroles and gifts and begin flooding towards your front door. Shiela and John walk behind them, herding them all into a straight line. 

You let go of Logan immediately, glaring at the door of your home. Shiela holds a key in her hand, unlocking it and letting everyone inside. You scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “What the actual fuck?” You hiss. 

Logan just shakes his head. “Fucking bizarre, what the hell is wrong with these people?” He starts back towards the truck and you follow him. “I almost prefer the welcoming committee at the manor.”

You roll your eyes, “I was your welcoming committee,” you grouse. 

He shrugs, “I know.” You swat lightly at his shoulder and relatch the trailer’s lock. You linger by the mailbox as Logan pulls the truck into the driveway. He’s getting out just as the others finally leave your house. 

Shiela walks back towards you and you gesture towards the keyring in her hand. “Got a key to my house?” You play it off as a joke but it’s incredibly disturbing to know she could walk in at any minute. 

“Of course,” she smiles and shrugs it off like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “For the safety of everyone here.” Her smile drops and she takes an imposing step towards you, “Inspections are every Wednesday at noon.” Your jaw drops in astonishment and you choke on your words. She cackles loudly, face breaking out into a smile once more. “I’m just kidding, honey! God, your face, you’re too gullible, sweetheart.”

You force out a chuckle, smiling as much as you can force. “Of course, silly me,” you barely make it sound believable. This is going to be much harder than you thought. 

“Well,” John comes up behind her, guiding her away from you. “We’ll get out of your hair now. Welcome, neighbors!” The others around them all call out a Welcome as they drift across your lawn and head back to their own homes. 

Logan walks up to your side, the both of you keeping stilted smiles on your faces, waiting for them to just go away. But they pause at their doors, in almost perfect synchronization they turn and wave at you both. You back further into Logan’s chest and his grip on you tightens. 

“What. The. Fuck.” They step through their homes at the same moment and you feel sick to your stomach. There is something seriously wrong here, you’re not sure you want to find out the truth of it. 

You leave Logan to unload the trailer while you unpack the boxes. You’re forced to do it all by hand while the front door is open. You can’t risk someone stopping by for a visit and seeing you float the couch through the middle of the living room. You’re stumped on how to set up the surveillance equipment. Shiela doesn’t seem like the type to understand boundaries when it comes to popping by for a visit. 

You’re just going to have to keep most of it upstairs and set up some cameras on the porch. You don’t doubt that she’ll abuse that key of hers as she sees fit. You can’t imagine how anyone could stand living in this neighborhood. Having no privacy seems like a nightmare. Especially when the commander of the HOA is John and Shiela. They seem like the type to fine you over a rosebush. 

Logan grunts, dragging in the couch. He pushes it through the doorway and kicks the door closed behind him. The second it’s closed he drops the act and picks the couch up with one hand. “Where do you want it?” 

You point towards the back wall of the living room and he drops it with a small groan. “We’re going to need to put cameras out on the porch,” you inform him, still digging through the box. He walks behind you, heading for the fridge and digging around in it. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. You look up, watching as he tosses aside casserole after casserole. “They didn’t bring any beer?”

You laugh a little and get up, heading towards the cooler you’d packed. “They don’t seem the type.” You lean over, digging around through the melted ice until your fingers brush against cool glass. You straighten up, sending him a coquettish smile. “Want a beer after all that hard work, darling?” You taunt, playing the perfect housewife. 

He scoffs and holds his hand out, snatching it from the air as you toss it at him. He pulls the cap off with his teeth, spitting it out into the sink. “And a sandwich while you’re at it,” he demands roughly. 

If you weren’t a connoisseur of dry humor, you wouldn’t have recognized the joke for what it was. Still, you’re almost too shocked he even bothered to play along with you to laugh. Almost, you can’t help the slight chuckle that slips out.  

He throws himself on the couch, taking a deep swig from the bottle, and the moment feels remarkably domestic. You suppose that it should. That is the whole reason you’re here after all. But you hadn’t expected even a singular pleasant moment with Logan. 

This, playful banter and a shared joke, that’s all you could ever want from him. You would settle for this if it was all he was willing to give you. But he can’t even grant you that. This is one outlier in a long list of rude remarks and dismissive behavior. You can’t let yourself be so easily swayed. 

“I might try and get some cameras on the other houses,” Logan remarks from the couch. He kicks his feet on the coffee table and you click your tongue at him, motioning towards his shoes. With an aggrieved sigh, he undoes the laces of his boots and kicks them off. You glare at the dirt that flings across the carpet but a quick wave of your hand makes it disappear. 

“Don’t bother with the cameras. They’ve all got security.” You turn away from the box you’re unpacking with a pensive frown. “They’re all covered by the same company, too. All of them. Isn’t that weird?”

He scoffs and shrugs. “Anywhere else, yeah. But I’m pretty sure they piss at the same time here.” Your nose wrinkles at his crude words and you roll your eyes. 

“Take this seriously.”

He huffs out a laugh, “I am. Didn’t you see them earlier? They only breathe because Shiela lets them.” You take a seat at the kitchen table, uncomfortable attempting to take a spot on the couch. He sighs when he sees the expression on your face, finally dropping the dismissive attitude. “I’ll just be smart about how I set up our cameras, alright?”

You just nod, reaching for the box of your essentials on the table. It’s strange to be sitting beside him, talking to him. You’ve never gotten more than two words out of him. This is so far out of your normal comfort zone that you feel like you’re crawling out of your skin trying to escape. 

“I’m going to go to bed,” you announce awkwardly, shooting up from your seat at the table. 

The beer pauses halfway to his lips and he gives you an odd look. “Okay?” He responds slowly, not sure why you’re telling him this. You open your mouth, and almost tell him to have a good night, but change your mind at the last second. 

You move towards the bedroom near the front door, “Flux,” you turn slightly and he shakes his head. “Take the one upstairs.”

Your brows furrow, “Why?” You demand, an attitude edging its way into your voice. 

“So if Shiela busts down our door I can protect us,” you know he’s teasing, but the sentiment is nice. “And so I don’t have to set up the surveillance shit upstairs,” your face drops and you roll your eyes. There it is. 

“Dick,” you mutter, storming towards the stairs, your boxes hovering along behind you. His laughter follows you up the stairs, even when you slam the door shut. Although, when you take in the room, you can’t find it in yourself to complain for a second about it. 

While Logan is screwed with the teeny guest room downstairs, you get the largest bedroom you’ve ever been in all to yourself. The closet could practically be another bedroom. The bath is more like a jacuzzi than it is a tub.

A four-poster bed sits against the wall, the fluffiest comforter ever becoming you forth like a siren. There’s even a table in the middle of the room, with a chair, perfect for setting up as your desk. 

You scoff in astonishment, “Oh, I could get used to this.” You place your boxes on the table and start pulling out your clothes. You toss yourself on the bed, bouncing against the sheets, and throw pillows go flying everywhere. You flick your wrist, all your essentials flying out of the boxes and sorting themselves out. 

After a luxurious soak in the tub, you’re spread out along the bed, the limited information from Charles's file spread out before you. There are only a few blurry pictures of the neighborhood and a typed-up page of everything he’s heard about Sotrybrook. There’s nothing even remotely useful here. 

You sigh, tossing the file to the floor and looking out the large window of your room. You’ve got a camera placed on the sill, programmed to take a picture anytime there’s movement. You doubt you’re going to get much from that. The secrets of this place seem to be buried deep. You’re gonna have to get real friendly with your neighbors if you want to get out of here fast. 

Logan is on the computer, trying to sync all of the cameras up. You clean up the dishes from breakfast and tidy up the kitchen. You’re trying to decide how you should start investigating when there’s a dainty knock on the door. 

Your brows furrow and you peer around the cupboards to look at the door. Logan’s head lifts and he shares an odd look with you. He gets up from the couch and glances through the peephole. 

You drop the towel on the counter and frown as his shoulders slump forward. Something pinched appears on his face and he sighs. “What?” You hiss at him.

He turns and glares at you, “You’ll see.” You shake your head in confusion as he throws the door open. 

His attitude makes a lot more sense when you hear a very happy, “Howdy!” Shiela stands in your doorframe, three women hovering behind her. At least they look awake, unlike the people from last night. A redhead with the most gorgeous waves you’ve ever seen holds beach towels in her arms. A brunette with flawless brown skin carries a jug of lemonade. And a woman with black hair and a perfect figure is carrying a plate of cookies. 

All of these women are wearing bathing suits that look like they’ve been snatched out of a fashion magazine from the sixties. Each of them is gorgeous, alarmingly so. They’re beautiful to the point of being flawless. As you walk out of the kitchen and take a step closer, Shiela welcomes herself into your home. 

You don’t even think you see pores on their faces. Each of them offers you the same practiced smile that you force yourself to return. “How are you settling in?” Shiela demands, not asks. 

“Um,” you look to Logan for help but he’s just as perplexed as you are. “Just fine, Shiela, thanks. What are you all doing?”

The redhead rolls her eyes playfully, “Tanning, sweetheart.” She glances at Logan expectantly and he grabs his duffel from by the couch. 

“I think that’s my cue,” he falls easily into the role of a playful husband. But you don’t need him to play along right now. You need him to stay where the fuck he is so you’re not alone with the barbies. 

“Ha ha, don’t go,” you whisper, trying to grab at his sleeve. “Logan,” you hiss, making sure the others can’t hear you as they look around your home. “Don’t do this.”

He dips his head down, and for one stupid moment, you think he might kiss you. “Good luck,” he whispers in your ear, backing off with a smug smirk and letting himself out of the house. 

Oh, you’re going to fucking kill him. 

“Finally,” the brunette breathes out a relieved breath, “I thought he’d never leave.”

Shiela chuckles, “You’re lucky honey. It took us a long while to have ours so well trained.” She motions to the other girls, “This is Madge,” the redhead smiles and gives a cute wave. She introduces the rest quickly and you file the information away for later when you’re writing your report. 

Madge- husband is the vendor consultant for the HOA. 

Sierra - brunette - husband is secretary of the HOA. 

Kimiko - black hair - no husband. 

Your brows furrow in confusion as Kimiko nods in greeting. You return it, suspicions running thick in your blood. It’s odd, that their husbands are in charge of the HOA, you figured they would be. Beyond that, the emphasis they put on it is astonishing. You really didn’t think the HOA was so important but it’s practically the government here. And the women only seem to hold importance if their husbands do. Shiela is essentially their leader, she’s the one you need to impress.

This whole thing seems incredibly backward and like a blast from the past. The way they style their hair, do their makeup, dress- it's all fashioned after the fifties and sixties. You feel incredibly out of place in your worn-down pajamas and frizzy braids. 

“We’re not really tanning,” Madge tells you. “This is just a way for us ladies to get to know the new kid in the neighborhood and tell you everything you need to know,” she leans in, smiling like she’s sharing a conspiratorial secret with you. 

“Don’t let Madge scare you,” Sierra shoots her a glare. “It’s not that big of a deal, it’s just a way for us to escape our husbands for an hour.”

“Well,” you chuckle awkwardly, crossing your arms over your chest as you grow uncomfortable under their tense stares. It feels like their eyes are peeling back your skin, exposing everything underneath as they judge every nook and cranny of your soul. “I haven’t reached that stage yet.”

Shiela’s smile loses some of its humor and she scoffs. “You will,” she assures you, acrid bitterness coating her words. “Give it a few years,” she gives you a bitchy and all-knowing smirk. Your hackles raise, the urge to defend your sham of a marriage rising quickly in you. You bite your tongue, swallowing down your smart retort before you say something you regret. 

You’re not even married to Logan, but you don’t like her butting her nose so far into your business. “Sadly, I don’t have a bathing suit.”

“Oh,” Kimiko gives you a blank smile, “We brought you one.” Madge moves the towels aside to reveal a two-piece that matches their own. In your size. 

Your cheeks ache with a forced smile as you take the bathing suit from them. “We’ll just set up out back,” Shiela lets you know. She turns to the others with a beaming smile, “Come on ladies.” They follow after her like ducklings, and when you look down you see each of their steps are in sync. 

You wait until the back door closes to rush to the front. You throw the door open and Logan jumps from where he’s drilling the camera into the side of the house. “I’m gonna fucking kill you,” you warn.

He chuckles and smirks, “Don’t keep ‘em waiting too long, sweetheart,” he mocks and you slam the door closed with a loud scoff. He was enjoying your suffering far too much, but you shouldn’t be surprised. You’re sure he’s just been waiting for a moment like this. 

You change into the bathing suit and take a deep calming breath. You can do this. You can play pretend for a few hours. 

You wished you’d known being an actor was a part of the job description before you joined the X-Men.

You lay on your stomach along the soft beach towel that Madge brought. The sun isn’t too hot on you, but you also bent the tree behind you to provide a bit more shade when the others weren’t looking. So far, you’ve collected nothing but mindless gossip. 

Sam never takes in his trash cans on time. Alicia has been getting a little too cozy with the gardener. Some couple you didn’t pay attention to is expecting a kid. You’re struggling to pay attention to all the mindless drivel. 

Usually, you wouldn’t mind a little gossip, but none of this feels real. Their words are hollow, smiles empty. Everything they say sounds like they’re reading it from a script. The only person you actually believe cares about any of this bullshit is Shiela. The rest of them seem to just play along, not meaning a word they say. 

You’re gaining nothing useful from this. There’s no information you’ve gotten during this conversation that could remotely help you. All you want to do is go out front and strangle Logan for abandoning you. 

The only good thing about all this is the lemonade and cookies. Which, you admit, you may have indulged yourself a little too much. But at this point, you’re just eating to stay awake. You reach for another cookie and Shiela lets out a dainty huff. 

“I wish I could eat like you,” she laughs and you prepare yourself for the most backhanded insult you’ve ever heard. “But I have to be so careful about watching my figure. Wouldn’t want to lose my waist,” she titters and the other women giggle. 

You toss the cookie back on the plate, rolling your eyes. It feels like you’re right back in high school. You love this, this is great. At this point, you’re just trying to stop yourself from tossing them all out. 

The backdoor slides open and Logan peeks his head out. The women wave and Shiela calls out a sultry, “Hey, Lo.”

Your jaw drops and you can’t help but scoff as you tilt your head to give her an astonished stare. This woman has absolutely zero shame. She’s not even hiding the way she’s ogling him. She’s literally biting her lip. 

You clench your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. There it is, the end of your rope. “Sweetheart, you gonna be done soon?” Logan calls out and you can’t help but smile at the immense satisfaction you feel when Shiela’s face falls. You shouldn’t take so much joy in Logan ignoring her, you know that’s just how he is. But she doesn’t. 

“I think so, hon.” You sit up on your knees, clapping your hands and pretending to be upset. “Sorry, girls, I think I’m needed back in the house.” You get to your feet and pick your towel up. As you do, you flick your fingers, and the lemonade tumbles over, spilling all over Shiela’s pristine white bathing suit. 

She jumps up with a shrill scream, shaking her arms off at the ice-cold liquid and desperately trying to wipe off her bathing suit. Madge and Sierra flock to her and you roll your eyes at how dramatic she’s being. 

Out of the side of your eye, you see someone watching you. You turn slightly, startling when you see the intense glare Kimiko’s sporting. It’s the first genuine emotion you’ve seen from her, but even this seems cold. Her dark eyes are bottomless pits of frigid rage. You find that you can’t look away from her, swaying slightly as her eyes beckon you forward. 

You need to go to her, speak with her, be with her. You need-

Your mind falls short of what you need. But you know Kimko will give it to you. Sierra and Madge both straighten up, both blank-faced as you take a step forward. 

Logan hollers your name again and you jump, shaking your head and breaking whatever trance you’d fallen in. When you look back, all three of them are still fussing over Shiela. You glance to Logan, to see if he saw what had happened. 

His brows are furrowed, face pinched in concern as he looks at you. You think you might have just found Charles’ interference. 

“I think we should look into Kimiko,” you scroll through the list of residents you’d managed to hack into. You’ve been on the computer for hours, trying to find any information bout her at all. Even when you ran a background check, nothing came up. If that doesn’t scream mutant, you don’t know what does. 

Logan walks over to the table with a steaming pan in his hand. You tug your computer glasses off and slide the laptop to the side. He pours some pasta onto your plate and hands you a glass of water. “Thank you,” he gives you a tense almost-smile and nods. 

“Figure out where she lives?” He asks, bringing his own plate to the table. You shake your head and rub your temples, trying to fend off the headache you can already feel forming. You should have taken a break from the research. You can’t stand staring at screens for as long as you did. 

“She’s not even a registered resident.”

“Well,” he sighs and shrugs, “at least we know this wasn’t a waste of time.” You nod in acquiesce and take a bite of your food. Your eyes widen in shock and he laughs at the look on your face. “Didn’t think I could cook?”

You shake your head and smile. “I took you as the type to pour beer in your cereal. But this is,” you stumble over your word. You’re afraid of being too nice to him. You’ve reached a sort of impasse, where you’re not openly hostile, but you’re not exactly friendly. You feel like if you do too much, too fast, he’s gonna be closed off again. “It’s really good.”

He purses his lips and nods, dragging his fork along the porcelain plate. The noise grates on you and only further aggravates the growing headache but you don’t snap at him. You swallow down the frustration and just shovel more pasta into your mouth. 

“This, uh,” Logan takes in a deep breath and lets all out in one gravely exhale. You give him an expectant look and he shrugs. “It hasn’t been as bad as I thought.” He tells you flippantly. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You demand with a firm tone, placing your fork down and leaning back in your chair. 

He lets out an annoyed sigh, “It was just an observation.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. He’s fucking ridiculous. “You know, maybe if you ever tried to get to know me, you wouldn’t have had such a horrible opinion about me.” You try and eat more but the food just tastes like ash in your mouth. You grow antsy, not wanting to sit near him anymore. 

You’re surprised that he’s the one who fucked up the peace. You really thought it would be you. But something about what he said is rubbing you the wrong way. Of course, it hasn’t been bad, you’re not a bad person. He just decided he hated you one day and he’s so goddamned stubborn he never considered anything else being the truth. 

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he defends, watching with a confused expression as you get up and drop your plate loudly in the sink. 

“You know,” you ignore his weak defense, leaning on the sink. You grip the rim of it tightly, sucking in a deep breath to try and keep yourself calm. “You didn’t even know my fucking name,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head to yourself. Why are you even bothering with him? You’ll never win and you don’t even know if you want him to change his opinion about you. 

He’s been a dick for so long that you’re not sure you’re even interested in being friends, let alone anything beyond that. 

“Well,” he takes an angered tone as you continue to deflect his attempts at restoring the peace. “It’s not like you told me. You just go by your X-Men name, how was I supposed to know better?”

“By fucking asking!” You shout, whirling around on him, nearly ramming into his chest. You hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten while you’d had your back to him. “If you had, ever, at any fucking point tried to get to know me, you wouldn’t be so surprised that I’m nice. I’m a nice person to be around, Logan. And for some reason I tried to change myself, to make you happy. And it never even worked!” You scoff, a hysterical laugh bubbling up in your throat that you quickly swallow down. You shove past him, escaping the corner he’s backed you into. “Your head is so far up your ass that you didn’t even try to know me before you decided you hated me.”

“What?” He scoffs and glares at you. “I don’t fucking hate you. When have I ever said that? And I never wanted you to change.” He keeps focusing on the wrong things. How he feels about you doesn’t matter, it’s how he treated you. 

“Never, you’ve never said that because you’ve never said more than two words to me. This,” you motion between the two of you, “is the longest conversation we’ve ever had.” A sudden exhaustion settles over you, it weighs heavy on your bones and drapes across you like a blanket. 

You don’t have the energy for this. For him. You don’t want to keep defending yourself to someone who couldn’t care less. There’s no winning with him. He will never listen to you, he’ll just offer half-assed excuses that he thinks absolve him of how horribly he’s treated you. 

He calls your name as you slump into the dining room chair. Your real name, not your X-Men name. “I never hated you,” he tells you, voice soft, but the conviction is strong. 

You stand up, unable to make eye contact with him. “Goodnight, Logan.” You walk up the stairs quietly, never once looking at him. You can’t stand to face him. As much as you’ve tried to bury how you feel about him, it’s still there. 

Being with him like this, having his ring on your finger, it’s a stab in the gut over and over and over. Someone’s taken your most ridiculous and romantic fantasies and turned them into a waking nightmare. You wake up to him every day, eat at the same table, share the same house, and you two couldn’t be further apart. 

You have to keep up appearances, Logan is sure that’s the only reason you’ve joined him this morning. He’s working on the truck while you kneel on a foam pad, planting a rose bush by the mailbox. But the way you’re stabbing the shovel into the ground it looks more like murder than it does gardening. You slam the little trowel into the dirt, lips pulled back like a wild animal as dirt flies up around your hair. 

Logan turns back to the truck, letting out a low whistle under his breath. Besides the insane display of shrubbery abuse, you blend into the neighborhood better than he ever could. You fit that perfect suburban aesthetic, sun hat, cat-eye sunglasses, and a pretty dress. 

You’re good at blending in, better than he ever was. He’s heard you joking about it before. Telling Jean your hidden mutant ability is learning to be a chameleon, fitting yourself wherever you are. He thinks it’s a cute idea, and not too far from the truth. 

He only wishes he were a little more like that. He sticks out like a sore thumb with his wifebeater, fraying jeans, and general countenance of misery. He can’t force a smile when John walks by with a shitty joke. He’s not like you. You stomach all of the women’s vapid nonsense with a smile and manage to seem so unaffected by it all. 

The only time he’s seen you break was last night. And that, of course, had been his fault. He wishes he was better with his words. He’s always been an action man, but clearly, he’s fucked that up with you too. He really did mean it as a compliment. 

He’s just incapable of talking without his foot in his mouth when it comes to you. It’s why he tends to just avoid you and stay quiet. He knows he’ll mess up with you eventually. In the rare chance you ever actually give him a second look, he’d be a shitty boyfriend. And even if you were just friends, he’d still fuck up somehow. He always does. 

He’s learned it’s better to just keep a distance between himself and others. Especially you. He’s always just wanted to keep you away from his bullshit. The haunted past he still knows so little about, all the mental baggage he carries, he never wanted to burden you with it. Even though it seems like he still managed to screw up somehow. 

Even when he’s trying to be good he’s still the bad guy. 

You let out a heavy sigh and his gaze drifts back towards you. The way it always seems to do. You’re his sun, bright, beaming, a golden beacon of hope. But he’s always just too far, eclipsing the light you might bring him with his own stupidity. 

You toss the trowel to the ground and stand up. You frown, brushing off all the dirt you’re absolutely caked in. When he peers around you and glances at the spot where the rose bush is supposed to be all he sees is a crater of earth and ripped up grass. He figures it's better not to mention it. 

You walk over to him, the same scowl you’ve had for the past few days ever-present on your face. “I’m going to take a shower,” you look at him expectantly and he shrugs. You let out a loud sigh and he can’t possibly imagine how he’s messed up now. “You need one too, the barbecues in an hour.”

He’d forgotten about the fucking barbecue. Some annual thing Shiela and John threw that the whole neighborhood went to. “It doesn’t take me an hour to get ready,” he tells you, intending a little bit of playfulness. 

Instead, you just let out an exasperated breath and storm back into the house. How did he keep fucking up with you so badly?

He’s gotten a taste of your personality, your company. He’s tried for so long to avoid getting to know you. He knows that if he truly did, he’d never get over you. He was right. Just one taste of you and he wants more, he wants to consume everything about you that he can. He’s screwed up in so many ways but he can’t just go back to normal after this and act like strangers. 

You smooth the wrinkles out of your cotton dress and let out a low breath. “You need another minute?” Logan grumps from beside you, his stare boring into the door. He didn’t want to come to this. Frankly, neither did you, but he needs to suck it up and be a big boy. You two are here for a purpose greater than yourselves. 

Maybe if you repeat that enough times you’ll start to believe it. 

Kimiko was everywhere that Shiela was. She was her shadow, her loyalist servant. And the only person in this neighborhood who’s shown a sliver of consciousness. You don’t know where she lives, or if she even owns a house here. But you do know she’ll be at this barbecue tonight. 

The only reason you’re bothering to bring Logan along is because you need him to distract Shiela. She drools every time she sees him, practically licking her maw at the sight of him in a tight t-shirt. You can’t really blame her, but she’s a married woman and he’s technically a married man. The lack of shame and compassion is genuinely astonishing to you. 

“No. Let’s just get this over with.” He needs no further prompting as he knocks heavily on the door. Each pound of his fist sounds like a bell tolling your doom. The intense feeling of nausea and eyes on the back of your head has developed and grown increasingly worse the longer you’re here. 

You feel like someone’s pressing against your mind, wiggling their fingers in and squeezing until mush slips through their knuckles. You keep a tight grip on Logan so you don’t tip over. Playing it off as the love-sick newlyweds you’re meant to be. 

Even though the feeling of his skin against yours makes you angrier than you can even begin to fathom. You’ve held onto built-up resentment and anger ever since your little tiff. You’ve heard that tumultuous times are common in the beginnings of marriages. Luckily, you’re getting a divorce the second this fucking mission is over. 

You resent Charles for ever sending you here. Any minuscule hopes you’ve had of finally building a relationship with Logan have been dashed across your front yard. There’s no hope for him. He’ll never change, and how he treats you will never change. 

The door swings open and the music from the backyard drifts through to the front. Shiela smiles widely, greeting you both with a drawn-out Hi! She reaches forward and grabs Logan, tugging him away from you and dragging him into a hug. 

You stumble forward as your support is ripped out from under you. She briefly glances over his shoulder at you and you offer her a sardonic smile. Every bit of you wants to dig your nails into her and rip until chunks of her start flying off. The post beside you warps slightly, bending like it’s melting. 

You dig your nails into your palm, swallowing down your anger, and force the post upright once more. Logan grabs Shiela by the waist, practically yanking her off of him. He steps back towards you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

You can’t help the smug smile that lifts your lips as you face her. You almost want to rub her face in it. He chose you and he can’t stand you, that says a lot about how he feels about her. You stop yourself, though, it’d be beyond idiotic to let that be the reason your cover is blown. 

“Thanks for inviting us,” you tell Shiela, playing oblivious instead of walking into her trap. You pass her the casserole you half-assed and baked in her dish. “We’re so excited to finally have a home to call our own, and with such wonderful neighbors,” you gasp dreamily. “Oh, it’s just a dream come true.”

Shiela runs a manicured nail along the side of her lip, looking wholly unimpressed. “Mhm,” she hums, “I’m sure.” You share a look with Logan, both of you caught off guard by her sudden dip in personality. Her face is blank, devoid of the usual overwrought happiness and charm. It’s like something’s taken control and drained the life from her. 

Either Kimiko’s here and you’re right about her, or, Shiela is just a depressed housewife who can’t always control when she smiles. You’re hoping it’s Kimiko and you can just end this once and for all. 

“Alright,” she’s back in a second like nothing ever happened. The boom of her voice echoing through the foyer makes you jump. “Let’s get you two outside. And thank you so much for this,” she gestures to the casserole. “You’re just such a sweet little thing aren’t you?”

Everything she says to you feels just a tad patronizing. She’s incapable of complimenting you without minimizing you in some way. You dismiss it, shaking off the funk she always seems to put you in. 

Shiela leads you to the backdoor of her porch where the rest of the neighborhood is. She certainly got the best square footage, that’s for sure. She doesn’t just have the biggest house, she’s also got the biggest yard you’ve ever stepped foot on. 

People are milling about, John’s flipping hamburgers on the grill, and children are playing happily with one another. It feels like an advert for the Fourth of July.

You scan the yard for the only person you’re looking for. You spot her, pushed back towards the shadow of Shiela’s oak tree. Shiela follows your gaze with a frown and scoffs. “I know, hideous isn’t it?”

You jump, startled out of your stupor. “Sorry?”

She points towards the tree. “I wanted to get rid of it, but apparently it’s historic,” she throws up air quotes, inflecting her voice lazily, “or something stupid.”

“Oh, right,” you nod dismissively and she shrugs, hands slapping against her thighs as she nods to her yard. 

“Well, go on, socialize, make yourself at home y’all.” She walks back into the house and you glance back at the yard. 

“Shit,” you hiss, “Kimiko’s gone.” You move away from Logan and take a step down the stairs, he begins to follow you but you stop him with a firm hand to his chest. He frowns down at you and you nod towards Shiela. “I need you playing interception. Those two are attached at the hip. The only thing that’s going to distract her is the hunk of meat she’s been drooling over.” 

Logan frowns and takes a step back. He sets his face and crosses his arms and you sigh, knowing exactly what he’s about to say. “No.” He tells you firmly, not even bothering to hear you out. 

“Well,” you shrug. “Too bad, I need you to do this or we’re never getting out of here.”

He mocks your shrug and nods, “Alright. Fine.” He leans into your space and you feel like you’re being scolded, “I’m not leaving you on your own, okay? And I’m not letting you go after Kimiko alone.”

“I’m not going after her,” you glance around, making sure no one is listening to you talk about their neighbor like she’s on a hit list. “I just need one interrupted conversation with her. Just one,” you’re practically pleading with him at this point. 

You feel pathetic. You’re a grown woman and an X-Men. You shouldn’t have to be bartering with Logan. He should just have some faith in your abilities to not only protect yourself but conduct yourself appropriately on a mission. 

His face screws up in irritation and you know he’s about to really cause a scene. He’ll start arguing with you, and blow your spot up just to get you out of here. You give him a placating smile, a real one because he’s somehow learned to tell the difference. “Logan, it’s only for an hour. I’m sure you can fend Shiela off,” you joke to try and lighten the mood.

He sucks in a deep breath and you know you’ve got him when his shoulders sink in defeat. “Fine. I’m only agreeing to this because you’re practically a chameleon with this shit,” he gestures vaguely to the barbecue and your face pinches with confusion. 

“What?” 

“I heard you talking about it with Jean one day. How you’re a chameleon when it comes to blending in with people.”

“Well, that wasn’t exactly a brag. It’s a method of survival, a way to make people like me. It gives me a fighting chance when they find out I’m a mutant.” God, why are you even talking about this? Why had he even been listening to your conversation with Jean?

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but you don’t have time for that. “Look, Logan, just go find Shiela.” You walk away from him before he can drudge up more uncomfortable memories of high school. 

You manage to slip through the party relatively unnoticed. You didn’t see where Kimiko had disappeared to. You’re hoping there might be some sort of hint left where she had been. You rush towards the oak tree, using it as a way to scan the party for her again. From here you can’t see anything except the kitchen.  

You’ve got a perfect view of Logan trudging towards Shiela. You can’t help but laugh when she wraps her hand around his bicep, eagerly telling him something. You smile and shake your head, the audacity of this woman is amazing. 

Something catches your eye, right by your foot. Glancing down you see something silver glinting through the grass. Frowning, you kneel and scoop it up. It’s an oblong device, small, and fits in the palm of your hand. It’s curved oddly, and the lights on it start flashing bright red as you hold it.

“What the hell?” You flip it over, a warped mirrored reflection on the back of it. You just barely spot Kimiko’s twisted face in the reflection before the world goes black. 

You groan, slowly blinking the fog of a forced sleep out of your eyes. You reach to swipe at your face, but something is holding your wrists down. You jerk your arms a few times, struggling against whatever restraints are wrapped around you. When nothing happens, you instead focus on the feeling of it against your wrist, trying to get it to dissolve. 

“Don’t bother,” a cool voice calls out from the shadows. There’s one bright light shining down on you, like the type you might see above an operating table. The entire room feels sterile. And it’s cold, you can barely feel the tips of your toes or fingers. 

“What’d you do?” You demand, trying to sound intimidating but your words come out as a slur. The back of your head radiates pain and it takes everything in you just to keep your eyes open. 

“I developed a gas,” the voice circles the room, echoing across the curved walls. You hear footsteps but you can’t tell where they’re coming from. “It halts the neurons in a mutant’s brain that fire when they use their abilities. Temporary, but quite handy when I’m dealing with a mentalist like you.”

Kimiko steps out of the shadows like a bad comic book villain. Her face is blank, no expression on it, somehow, it’s the realest she’s ever looked before. Here, you can see her humanity. Pores across her nose, frizz and oil along her hair, her nose just a little bit crooked. Whatever she’d been doing to herself has been wiped away. And the human woman lurking beneath is finally revealed. 

“There you are,” you mutter, your speech slowly coming back to you. “I knew that plastic face wasn’t real.”

“Everything was going just fine until you and Wolverine got here,” she gives you a sharp look, “Flux.”

You sarcastically gasp, “Wow, you know my X-Men name. It’s not like I haven’t been interviewed before. What’s the plan here, Kimiko? Where are the others?”

Her brows pinch, “Others?”

“The mutants you’re trafficking.”

“Oh,” she laughs and it’s so jarring you nearly jump. “Is that what people think?” Hesitantly, you nod, but you’re beginning to feel like you might have gotten something very wrong. “No, that’s not what we’re doing here.”

“We?”

“Shiela and I. We have much simpler plans, much more peaceful. You see, Shiela’s the only person to ever stand beside me after she found out I was a mutant. She gave me a home, a friend, and a sense of belonging.” There’s something devout in her words, like a humble follower kneeling at the feet of their god. “Everything I have, everything I am, I owe to her.”

You’ve seen Shiela’s manipulation firsthand. You have no doubt that she’s never actually done anything for Kimiko. She’s just made her think she had and instilled in her this sense of owing her something. 

Then again, Kimiko’s getting this look on her face. She’s like a rabid dog staring down the barrel of their owner’s shotgun. Perhaps she hadn’t needed much prompting to develop such an unhealthy attachment. “Shiela’s parents never loved her the way they should have. They never gave her the perfect life she deserved. So I created one for her.”

She rolls a tray of surgical tools over and a sense of panic finally starts to rouse within you. Yet, for the first time in years, your powers aren’t here to help you. You have nothing to rely on but yourself. But you’ve been trained so intensively in using your abilities as a protector rather than an inhibitor that you’re practically useless without them. 

“All these people,” you rush the words out as she picks up a syringe. You don’t know what the yellow liquid inside is, but from the look on her face, you don’t want to. “You’re controlling them?”

Kimiko nods and you’d be staggering if you weren’t strapped down. Not even Charles could control this many people at once. Not without Cerebro. “Kimiko, that’s,” you gasp, flinching away as she brings the needle towards your arms. “It’s incredible!” Your quick rise in volume makes her jolt and the syringe tumbles out of her hands. 

She grumbles to herself, leaning over to pick it up. “Does Shiela know?” She pauses at the mention of Shiela’s name, brushing her hair over her shoulder and glaring at you. 

“Yes. Of course she does, this is my greatest gift to her.”

“Really?” Your voice drips with contrived empathy. “Then I’m sure she’s done something incredible for you back.” You were hoping a simple manipulation tactic might work, that you could turn Kimiko against an ungrateful Shiela. But this type of obsession isn’t one that can’t be destabilized with a few jumbled words. 

No, you only make her angrier. “Back? Back?” she practically screams, her voice raw and feral as she leaps into your face. You flinch as far back as you can as her face hovers over yours, screaming right at you. “I owe her everything! I should thank her for letting me breathe the same air as hers!”

Your jaw drops, a silent scream tripping out of your mouth as you gasp for air. Something squeezes against your brain, the pulsing from before returns with a vengeance. You can feel your mind pulsing and swelling, pushing against your skull. 

“Don’t fucking say her name again,” Kimiko glares down at you, her eyes devoid of any remorse or compassion as she makes your brain swell until blood leaks down your ears. Whatever plan she had before has been abandoned, she’s going to just kill you now. 

You’re going to die in her basement, no one will ever see you again. Your eyes throb and you feel your brain push to its fullest limits. The pressure builds, builds, and builds until it explodes. 

“Then you just pour a little sugar in.” Logan watches as Shiela tips nearly an entire bag of cane sugar into her jug of sweet tea. His stomach shrivels at the sight and he fights down bile. A little bit of sugar drops over the edge. She catches it on her finger and looks over her shoulder, licking the sugar off and practically deepthroating her own finger. All while maintaining a disturbing amount of eye contact with Logan. 

“Well,” he knows that he promised you a while with Kimiko, but he can’t handle much more of this. “Thank you so much for this,” he struggles with the word, landing weakly on, “lesson.” He’s not even sure what the point of watching her prepare all this food was. 

He’s pretty sure she just wanted him to see her leave a rim of red lipstick at the bottom of her finger as many times as possible. The entire time he’s just wanted to go back to you. There’s a nasty feeling gnawing at him and he knows he needs to get back to you soon. 

“Oh,” she seems genuinely disappointed and Logan sighs awkwardly. “Leaving already, huh?”

He points to his ring pointedly reminding her of the reality of their situation. “Gotta get back to the wife.”

She doesn’t even try to hide her sneer as he mentions you. “Of course, just the perfect husband aren’t you?”

Logan doesn’t dignify that with a response, too distracted by what’s happening outside the window. People have begun to wander around aimlessly, some of them stumbling into the fencing. They just keep walking forward, knocking into the wood repeatedly, not once stopping. John’s got a stuck smile on his face as he leans against the grill, Logan can see smoke rising from where the flesh of his palm is melting onto the metal. A few people all run into each other, collapsing on the ground and just lying there. 

They’re like robots, suddenly without command and unsure what to do. They’re following their programming without anyone putting a stop to it. Shiela follows his gaze and gasps. “Excuse me,” she mutters, practically running out of the room. 

Logan tries to find you amongst all the mess but you’re nowhere to be seen. “Fuck,” he growls out, looking back to where Shiela had run. He should have fucking known not to leave you on your own. 

He stalks after Shiela, listening to her racing heart and the slam of a downstairs door. He follows her down the steps leading to her basement. It looks the same as every other one he’s ever been in. Except, for the metal door hidden behind a few shelving units. The only reason he spots it is because Shiela knocked over a can of paint in her rush toward it. 

Anger brews hot and putrid in his gut. The claws come out unbidden, and the thought of you being locked away in that room pushes him forward. If you’re not in there, he’ll get an answer from Shiela one way or another. But he’s not going to let you get hurt because he didn’t have your back. 

“What the hell are you doing?” A shrill voice interrupts. Your head sinks back against the cool material of the table, brain surging back into place. Your teeth ache, white-hot pain rushing through your bones as Kimiko finally releases her grasp on you. 

Kimiko gives Shiela the look of a dog who just got in trouble. “She found my amplifying device. I have to get rid of her.” She holds the device you found earlier out to Shiela. 

So, she wasn’t as powerful as she pretended. She did need help. It explains why the entire neighborhood is always in the same area, she needs them close to keep control. “Whatever you’re doing is making my toys malfunction.”

Shiela hisses at Kimiko, she darts forward and slaps her hard across the back of the head. If you weren’t in excruciating and paralyzing pain, you’d flinch at the sound. Being as if your brain was just about to explode, though, you could give less of a shit if she beats her rabid dog up. 

These two crazy bitches deserve each other. You just want a Tylenol and a nap at this point. “Well, aren’t you two twisted sisters?” Logan slips through the door, his claws glinting under the light of the room. “Toys?” He demands, eyes roaming the room desperately. 

The second he sees you, strapped down and with blood pouring from your orifices, something slips over his face. It’s like a mask being ripped off. The man he pretends to be is ripped apart by the animal truly lurking within him. Neither women have time to even defend themselves. He goes for Kimiko first and all you see his claws plunging down before arterial blood sprays across your face. 

You groan, tilting your chin the other way and spitting the metallic liquid out of your mouth. There are a long few minutes of screaming, clothes shredding, and blood splashing against every surface of the room. By the time he’s completely calmed down, you’re drenched in it. 

You suck on your teeth, rolling your head limply and finally getting a good look at him. He’s panting, standing over their mutilated corpses with blood dripping down his claws. There’s a wrath on his face you’re happy to have never been on the other end of. But the second he looks at you, you see nothing but stark relief. 

He breathes out your name, your real one, and surges towards you. “Claws!” You shout, hurting your head again. But he was a second away from accidentally skewering you. They’re put away in an instant as he undoes the straps holding you down. 

You groan in relief as the pressure around your head and limbs is released. He perches himself on the edge of the table and scoops you into his chest.

You’re still loopy from Kimiko messing around in the grooves of your brain. The best you can manage is weakly draping your arms along his sides. He pulls you back and brushes the hair out of your face, laughing a little at the blood covering you. “They do anything to you?”

You shrug, “Besides turn my brain into a pressure cooker? No.”

The smile drops from his face and he glares down at the remains of the women. If you weren’t so tired, you’d think he wants to kill them again. “I should have been here.”

“Logan-” You want to tell him not to be ridiculous. You had insisted you could take care of yourself. Told him it would only be a conversation when you knew that was never going to be true. You’d gotten yourself into this, you were lucky he was there to get you out. But you don’t say anything because he interrupts you as he so often does. 

“I can’t keep acting like this is all okay. Like I’m happy with how we treat each other. I thought I was going to lose you, I’m not going to keep pretending I don’t care about you.”

Your face screws up in confusion and you’re not sure you want to hear where he’s going with this. You’ve been used to this dynamic between the two of you for so long. You’re used to him treating you like he can't stand to breathe the same air as you. If this is going where you think it is, you’re not sure you can handle it. 

“Logan,” you’re regaining some feeling in your limbs now. You use the returning strength to push away from him, shaking your head in disbelief. “No, you can’t do this. You can’t just change your-”

He’s incapable of letting you finish a single sentence. His hands wrap around your cheeks tugging you forward until your lips are brushing together. It’s enough of a shock to get you to stop talking. You don’t reciprocate, too stunned to even think about moving. 

He brushes his lips against yours again, firmer this time. Under the layers of blood coating you both, you’re wholly enveloped by him. His scent, his arms, everything about him drapes over you like a warm blanket. Against your better judgment, you find yourself returning the kiss. 

You move further into his lap, one hand holding his face and the other clutching at his hair, needing something to hold to keep you steady in this moment. Logan smiles against your lips, deepening the kiss without wasting another beat. His tongue moves gently across yours at first. A curious caress to see how well you two fit together. He groans when he gets a taste of you, pushing further in and kissing you like he wants to devour you.  

There’s warmth blooming in your stomach and spreading all along your body. You’re buzzing with adrenaline and pain and this unidentifiable feeling that Logan is evoking from you. It’s not the sweet mushy, romantic kiss you always imagined with him. 

This is desperate. Like a dying man’s last attempt at redemption. He’s tasting you like you’re rare, something to be savored. You feel like you’re the only thing left in existence. The only person left for him to admire. You forget the gore behind you, the tumultuous experiences you’ve had with him. 

You let yourself fall into the moment, a blind leap of faith into a pool of all your hopes and desires. He’s better than you ever could have imagined. More desperate than your wildest fantasies. He makes no move to stop, even as the air becomes scarce and you both have to part longer. He just grips you tighter, hands wrapped around you like he’s worried if he lets go he’ll lose you. 

He could, he could lose you. This kiss of his is putting you into a trance, distracting you from all he’s trying to make up for. Perhaps if he stops kissing you, you’ll remember it all and want nothing to do with him. But you don’t see that happening, you just see yourself craving more and more for him., You feel the addiction forming already. A deep-seated need in your bones is finally being sated, it will always need more from him. 

When you can no longer survive on the shared oxygen between you both, you’re forced to part. Your cheeks tingle from the stubble of his beard and you know your lips are pink and swollen because his are too. You’re both still coated in blood and you share a familiar glean in your eyes. 

“I never hated you,” he sounds breathless and you love that you’re the cause of it. “I just didn’t want to lose you.”

You scoff, but there are no cruel intentions behind it. “So you push me away before you ever get a chance to have me?”

He gives you a crooked smile, “I never said I was smart.” You can’t help but laugh at that. Slowly, he helps you to your feet, ignoring the puddles of blood and bits. “We'll have to call Charles. He needs to help the people out there.”

“We also need to let him know there’s no trafficking ring. Just one fucked psyche.” You shoot another glare at the pile that was Kimiko, still bitter about her experiment with your brain. As Logan helps you up the stairs of the basement, you stop him just before you reach the door. 

He gives you a concerned look, like he thinks you’ve hurt something somehow. “I want to talk to you. Really talk to you about everything.” Concern gives way to dread and you can’t help but smile at the regretful look on his face. “But first,” his head perks in interest at your tone, “maybe we can finally enjoy that master bed together?”

“You know,” he leans down, swiping his arms under your knees and lifting you. You gasp, through your arms around his neck and squeezing until you worry you might suffocate him. “You really are the smart one of us, aren’t you?”

“Clearly.”

You’re not sure how well this transition to married couple to tentatively something else is going to go. But you have hope and it's kept you going for all these years. What's wrong with letting it linger a little longer?

a/n: Guess who's back, back again? Hint, it's Flux. I missed writing for them, so I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. Although, I worry the ending was too cheesy.

Reblogs, comments, likes, and requests are always appreciated !!

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies 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 @insomniachox @izbelross @spktrlvr ♡

[mcondance]

he loves me (lyzel in e flat) — tim laflour

tim x fem!reader, reader is referred to as a girl, general discussion of tim sex wise, missionary, dirty talk, praise-ish, he says he loves you uh that's it, it’s a lot of elaboration abt how much he loves sex with you LMAO, title from this song (i love you jill scott <3)

tim likes sex, to get that out of the way. on the outside and to people who don’t know him, he’s a little dumb, a little odd and he seems like he’d fumble around these types of things, but he does not.

tim likes sex with you, way more than he should.

he likes digging in your guts, bumping your body up the bed every time his hips kiss the back of your legs, sticky and slippery from the mix of fluids flowing from you two.

with deep purrs pushed hard from his chest, the sounds of a man who’s in love with what he’s doing, he splits you open so good, ripping pathetic, guttural cries out of you, whiny moans that make fucking you so alluring. your arms clasp tight around his neck and you’re trying to ground yourself, and it’s always in vain, fingers gripping your own arms so tight the skin caves.

“belong here, baby, belong inside you, so so deep in you, go crazy when i don’t get to feel you,” he coos, almost singing it, his naturally ditzy tone laying an innocently genuine feel over his obsessed words. it's ridiculously pathetic, his admission of devotion to your cunt, to the clenches and drooling and soaking that your pussy delivers to him. velvety and gripping, he's a fool for it.

he’s telling the truth though, and you know it. you’ve seen what happens to him when he goes too long without bullying your pussy, fucking you like he hates you, like you owe him something. he gets all aggy, eyes all glossy and spaced out and he’s ticked off by the smallest things.

he needs to get his dick wet, needs you to get it wet, to let him fuck your body into the mattress and listen to your moans that have turned into pathetic little cries, spewing from your mouth with every jerk of his hips against you. hot skin hitting against yours, unforgiving thrusts sending shockwaves through your whole body, it's by pure luck that you and tim met, that you get to be pounded into his bed every time he gets the chance.

your pussy sings to him with every move he makes, honeyed melodies ringing out through the room, and it’s idyllic, perfect and so far from beautiful yet right there.

he fucks you like both need it, hard and messy like he loves what he’s doing to you.

he does love what he’s doing to you.

turning his head to the side so he knows you can hear him even over your enraptured keens, he lets his mouth loose again— "i love you, y'know, love you and your pussy so much, 's my favorite thing in the whole world, always so wet and tight and ready for me, always excited that i get to fuck you." he's elated, sure in the fact that you belong to him, that you are his to stretch and pound and fuck.

his lip ring is cold against your face and it doesn’t do much to help; it makes it worse, makes you really compute again that you’re being fucked dumb by a pretty punk who’s obsessed with fucking you.

it all sends another wave of pleasure crashing over you, and you're grasping tighter over his back, hands raking down the muscle. you almost growl, so keyed up and overwhelmed with feeling, good fucking feeling, rocking up the bed with every roll of his hips. tim's love for sex has opened you up, allowed you to partake in it at your most vulnerable level, unashamed and liberated in your euphoria.

he likes the way you take his dick, how you spread your legs and make space for him between them, how you let him fuck you to his heart's content, let him express his need inside you.

his big blues have drifted to something much darker, blue-black windows looking down at one of the best parts of it all, to where ropes of your cream span from your slick lips to his wild hair.

he huffs out a laugh, breathing "yeah, look at that,” dark eyes hazy and gleaming.

he knows you're being fucked too good to even give a fuck about what it looks like, but he's a talker, and he’s having so much fun, and the sight is just so fucking disgusting that he has to say something; something else that feels like a reward, like a deity has blessed him with it, the gift of sex that he so confidently uses, whenever he wants.

tim loves fucking you, loves dwarfing your body with his intimidating size, loves the sounds you make, loves the sounds your bodies make as they meet again and again, as he nestles his cock right where you both know it belongs.

devoted is what he is, a regular fiend, only made worse by the way you fit so tight around him. every push into you is so good to him, brain taken over by how it feels to be deep inside your welcoming pussy.

every little jerk and jump, every melodic whine, every word your slur into his neck, it’s everything to him.

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 3

Summary: Andy wants to know your truth

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  mild language, insecurities concerning reproduction, mentions of spousal neglect, mentions of cheating, touching in public, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.3K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Grab your things,” Andy says before he’s even fully exited Ransom’s office. Your boss’ face goes slack, and he looks at Andy with disdain. “This isn’t a request. We’re going for coffee.”

Your eyes ping pong from Ransom to Andy, and you politely shake your head no. You need the job, and it didn’t look professional if Andy demands you to leave. Ransom is the boss, “I have to work. This is business hours. And when I’m done I need to go pick up,” you gulp. Your eyes fall on Andy, and you shamefully shake your head.

“I know. I’ll make sure you make it to pick them up on time,” you look towards Ransom again, unsure of why you want to deny an actual conversation with Andy. Shame didn’t feel like the right word. You did nothing wrong. And yet there’s this gut wrenching guilt you feel, and you’re not sure why, “Ransom, she’s taking the rest of the day off.”

“I-I-I ugh,” groaning at the reality you’re in. You were not supposed to be worrying about things like this, “I can’t afford to.”

“He’s giving you paid leave,” Ransom groans behind you, but Andy grabs your coat anyways. “Doe,” there’s something in the tone of his voice, the look in his eyes, and the way his hand slightly flinches towards you. He isn’t angry. He seems caring.

You stand up, leaving Ransom’s mouth slightly gaping at you, but you nod your farewell. It sounds like whatever this coffee conversation is, will take the rest of the day. “Sloane, can you tell Willow to cancel my day,” Sloane answers quickly, looking to you a bit confused, and you walk side by side with Andy Barber. Something you haven’t done in awhile.

“You drink your coffee the same?” You stutter a moment, “Doe, iced shaken latte?”

“Yeah,” how is he remembering this? And why? The answer that you refuse to let pass through your brain. You can’t go there right now. “But with oat milk now,” he gives you a sincere smile, motioning his head in a corner.

“That’s my table. Lots of privacy. I’ll be over there once I have the coffees,” your mind is reeling. Whatever happened in Ransom’s office, Andy’s coldness is now morphed into how he was. Especially that night. The way his hands brushed over every inch of your skin, and made you feel alive for the first time in years.

The ride here was brief, but so quiet. Andy’s fingers drummed on his knee, keeping rhythm to the music, and you hated yourself a bit for being the obedient quiet woman. You want to pick his brain, and ask what changed. He knew about the kids. You’re assuming he knows about Scott. They might not be in the same office, but they could have seen each other around. Been in the courtroom together. Anything.

Andy gives you a warm smile as he hands the cup to you. You take a slow drink, and smile up at him, “You remembered the vanilla bean powder.”

“It’s part of your order. Why the switch to oat milk?”

You take a sip, refusing to meet his eyes. You’re not ashamed you have children, you’re ashamed this is how the conversation is had. He knows, and not from you. “My youngest, Suede, has a lot of allergies and intolerances, and one is lactose. So it was easier for us all to make the switch. Audrey liked the taste of oat milk best. Suede doesn’t care as long as I make him chocolate sauce.”

His eyes light up as he takes a drink from his cup. You wonder if he still drinks his coffee with light cream. Or even if he would use plant based milk. “You make chocolate sauce?”

“When I make it, I don’t have to worry about whether Suede can have it,” so much of the eating habits changed when you learned that he had allergies. It wasn’t a hesitation for you. It wasn’t at first with Scott, until it became an inconvenience.

“How many children do you have?”

“Just the two,” you sigh, looking at his thick fingers. Andy was never shy about wanting a family, and you fear that now that you can’t give him that, things have been ruined before they can begin again. You can sense the question lingering on his tongue, and yet, he’s too nice to say anything. “You can ask.”

“I’d rather you just tell me, this is us as friends catching up,” of course he’d be the gentleman. He’d say the right things. Do the right things. But you aren’t putting yourself into this line of questioning if that isn’t what he wants to know. “It’ll sound insensitive.”

“I just want to make sure we’re going the way I think it is. It doesn’t hurt like it used to,” you had healthy and happy children. What more could a mother ask for? Of course you wanted more, but it wasn’t in the cards, and it just seems so arrogant to think you deserve more when you have two.

“So it wasn’t your decision to not have any more children?” So formal. And yet, it doesn’t sting. No one has ever talked to you about this. It was always about how Scott felt. And you’re the one that did all the work. The one that feels inadequate for not giving your husband what he claimed to desire. You just shake your head no. Only just noticing Andy’s left fingers have been grazing over your knee. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Does any woman want to talk about how she’s not able to have children and it’s taken away from her involuntarily? Too often our bodies and uteruses are discussed with very little regard for us as a human. Our bodies are meant to be incubators for men that want to reproduce. But no one wants to talk about our mental status if that’s striped away from us, do they?”

“While there are people, especially men, who think that way, you know I don’t, Doe. The only thing I’ve ever wanted was you,” instead of the tips of his fingers, his hand flattens, touching you more. He watches your face to see if you protest, but you don’t. Instead you wish he would hold you like he did when you were teenagers. His arms always were the best comfort. “Honey, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“I want to. I never have been able to, passed the too clinical doctors. Even — even Scott,” you should have known the writing was on the wall for your marriage, but at that time you would have done anything to save it. Andy’s posture goes rigid, and his jaw clenches. His anger. Even now, Andy has this innate need to protect you. Still.

“Andy,” his eyes close so slowly. Like he’s trying to absorb your calmness. You’ve had some time to process your marriage, but Andy is just learning about this. You wait until his body relaxes, and proceed, “It’s not impossible. It’s just such a rare chance. We even did a year of IVF. It was miserable and never took. Our next step was surrogacy. Except I guess he was going the old fashioned route.”

You look to the left, trying to hold in your angry tears. Not because you’re sad that your sham of a marriage ended, but because of the lengths you went to preserve it. The constant mental turmoil, but when you caught him with Taylor, it wasn’t blind rage. It was anger for you. For the disrespect to your home and your kids being there. The door was unlocked, and had Audrey walked in — you can’t even think about it.

So many times in the past few months you try and think if there was a time you were truly happy with Scott. Or had you found the replacement to the man in front of you, and you just went through the motions. You look at your two children and how you have this unwavering love you have for them. They were your reasons. Being a mother has been the highlight of your life. You just wish they had a father like Andy to share it with.

“He cheated?” you can’t answer, so you nod. Andy sighs, he is well aware of your no cheating policy. “How did you find out?”

“It’s easy to find out when you find the babysitter bouncing on his cock, while our children were taking their nap,” his Adam’s apple bobs. His body tense and agitated. “I suppose she did me a favor if it wasn’t for her continuing to be in our life because Scott never knows how to be alone. Or for someone to ruin his perfect picture of his life. Of course, he’ll twist it and turn it into being my fault, and that Taylor is his true love. Anything to make the affair not be his fault.”

You see him take a tentative lean forward, but you lean back in your chair, “Andy, don’t get involved. You can’t save me from everything. This is my mess that I chose willingly to get into.”

“He’s trying to take your kids from you, and he can’t even make simple adjustments in his diet to make sure your son is safe?” A tearful laugh pushes past your lips. “This isn’t funny.”

“I don’t think it’s funny. I’m just laughing because you haven’t changed. Why do you always need to protect me?”

“Because you never want to protect yourself,” the two of you stare for too long at each other. The most comfortable silence between you, and you don’t want to break the spell. The one thing you’ve always wanted is right in front of you. He’s close enough to touch, and grab him.

“How come you never got married?”

“Well, I never fell in love again. I tried. A few times, and then I just — you don’t want to hear about that,” you giggle, using your foot to playfully kick at his, and his fingers gently start rubbing on your knee again. “Did you love Scott?”

“Are you asking me a simple question, or is this you asking me if I loved him like I loved you?”

“Touché,” he raises his cup, already knowing your response before you even say it. His mouth turned into a cocky smirk.

“I was married to a lawyer, but was still in love with you, Andy. Maybe I did love him in ways. But maybe it was because he was close to being you. I know how sometimes a simple question can be quite complex,” his hand drifts a bit further up your leg. Still an appropriate amount, but there’s a neediness in it. A want to have things go back to normal. “No. I don’t think I was ever in love with him,” that hand travels up even further, and he smiles when your legs spread just an inch wider.

“What are we doing here, Doe?”

“We’re having coffee because you demanded that I leave my job for the rest of the day. We have less than an hour before I need to pick up two children from the daycare center.”

“I saw Audrey,” he smiles, his hand flattens on your thigh. “She looks beautiful just like her mom. Has your eyes. You wanna talk about them?”

“What’s there to talk about? I’m a mom, a damn good mom if I say so myself. They’re my life. The only reason I hang on to hope with this divorce. The idea of Scott getting full custody is something I can’t even comprehend. He isn’t even potty training Suede. And he’s not even patient with him as he tries to talk. Audrey is my talker. She’s so smart for how little she is. So protective of her brother, and intuitive with him. She even wakes me up and says she’s had a nightmare so I sleep in her bed with her. I think it’s because she doesn’t want me on the couch. But I can’t let my girl be scared. They’re amazing. And I seriously question how I deserved them, but I won’t live without them either. They’re mine.”

it’s a sentiment you know in the depths of your soul. Those babies are yours. You carried them, you birthed them, fed them, changed their diapers, became their everything. Scott might have provided the funds, but he was just that. The money. There were moments, and glimpses of him being a good dad, and enjoying at least Audrey. You wonder if Suede’s allergies, and being a more difficult baby overall, is when he started to check out.

Audrey is the perfect child that was easy to get on a schedule. The pregnancy was easy. She is a fast learner. But Suede, your sweet baby, had so many difficulties since he was conceived. You sometimes wonder if Scott blames the difficult pregnancy and labor on your son, and even your problems with conceiving on Suede. His need to want another child so quickly was possibly a do over. For — the mistake. He called Suede that one time. And you’ll never forgive him.

Your mind easily spirals when it comes to Suede and Scott’s relationship. And you didn't care anymore. You didn’t have to beg for Scott to hold him, while you put Audrey to bed. Or to force him to try and talk to Suede. There’s a disconnect, and you hate him for it. Like any of his allergies were the baby’s fault. Fuck him. Fuck Scott, and his ways to make Suede insecure. Fuck. Him.

“I won’t let that happen,” Andy, sensing your growing anger, interrupts.

“I thought I told you not to get involved?”

His hand drifts up too high for public consumption. His fingers flutter over your covered core, and he smirks as his hand slides back down. Remaining too high, but you don’t care. You’ve not felt this way since Andy. “Doe, I’ve been involved since the moment I came into Ransom’s office and saw you. And since being inside of you, and coming in you, there’s no way that I’m not going to be involved. Even if it’s just to guide you to a better lawyer.”

“That’s who I can afford. And exactly why is Ransom telling you who my lawyer is? Especially considering he’s the one that is talking to Ray Smith for me. That’s who he’s hoping to take over my case,” Andy chuckles. Clearly Ransom left that piece out of what he told him. “He’s willing to set up — payment plans.”

You weren’t supposed to tell anyone about what Ransom was doing. For whatever reason that man wants everyone to think he’s a giant asshole, but you immediately saw right through his facade. Ransom is a good man, even if he didn’t want anyone to know about.

“Fine, I won’t get involved in court proceedings, but I will be involved with you as moral support.”

“Why?”

“You know exactly why,” his tone darkens, and you see lust ping his pupils.

“For unprotected sex, with all the creampies you can imagine?”

His hand shoots all the way to your core, and he flattens it over your covered mound. Giving you a crooked smile when you lean back, spreading your legs even further. “Sex with you is a bonus, not a requirement. But judging on how wet you are right now, means it’s not completely off the table. Now, if you want to act like I’m a sex crazed lunatic because you feel things are going too fast, that’s your prerogative, but don’t insult my intelligence.”

He removes his hand too soon. Lifting it to his mouth where he sucks on a finger. “Did anyone ever tell you that you taste delectable?”

“Yes. You have plenty of times.”

“Because I’m a smart man,” you watch as he puts another finger in his mouth. Can imagine that his tongue is circling the digit before he pulls it out. Smiling as he inserts another one. “Now that we have got your need to make a smart ass comment out of the way. No. I’m not getting involved for sex and creampies. My love for you extends past your cunt. All I have ever wanted was you. We were too young, and here I am as an adult with everything I wanted and I worked hard for, except for you.”

“I can’t have more children, and I don’t want to go through IVF again.”

“I’m not asking. I’m not even asking for us to jump into a relationship together. Us having kids, was just kids dreaming and talking, and thinking we had all our shit figured out. You have children,” you don’t want to say it, but the thought that he didn’t lingers on your mind. Something like that can make or break a relationship, and it’s better to be realistic and honest from the beginning. Scott had ruined you by thinking that your ability to produce him a child or lack thereof is your fault. Andy didn’t care. “Besides thinking about having more children, when you have two perfectly amazing humans already is a bit premature.”

“You’ve never even met them.”

“You already told me they are perfect. I trust you. Are you done with trying to make excuses to not have me in your life? I’m not talking about getting married tomorrow, I’m talking about you having a friend in Newton. Someone to talk to when you’re lonely, or feel you’re at your wits end. Don’t make any more excuses. I get it. You’re legally separated, you have two children, you’re becoming independent. I just want to be a part of that. As a friend.”

Now you’re not exactly an idiot. You and Andy were never able to be just friends. Hell, he’d already fucked you an entire night. But the sincerity in his voice, and the soothing feeling of having his hand on your knee again is comforting. It feels nice to not be alone, to not have to try and figure out how you’re even going to find a friend when your free time is being a mother.

“We should get your kids,” you glance to your phone on the table, seeing the time. “I’m just a friend you met at work,” you gulp. So much change has happened in their life, is Andy being present going to make it even worse? “No touching, no kissing, but I can’t guarantee I won’t smile.”

“Is this why you wanted me to take my car? Did you plan this?”

“This is me planning ahead. I saw the time before we left, and knew this could be awhile. I can get an Uber back to the office if that is what you want,” you want for your children to not be put in adult squabbles. You want them to feel comfortable getting in the car, and there’s a man with you that’s not their daddy. You want them to not think that Scott threw you away for Taylor.

“Do not get too friendly, okay? Suede won’t notice anything, but she will. Andy, I mean it,” your daughter noticed too much. And didn’t have a filter for saying things either. You didn’t want to stifle her voice or for her to think she couldn’t talk to you. Just some things you didn’t want to know. Like how Taylor rubs on her daddy’s belt all the time. Something you can only assume is her hand is too low on Scott.

“Why are you so worried?” Because you’re the weak one here. Andy’s ability to be nonchalant is infuriating. You want him, always have. But it’s time to put your big girl panties on for them, and not be a hormonal teenager.

“I’m not.”

“And you never lie, either,” Andy grins as he stands up from the table. That sly grin that tells you he knows how much you’re worried, and knows that you worry that you can’t be just friends with Andy.

“Shut up.”

“Andy,” you warn as he undoes his seatbelt. Placing his hand on the door handle. “You stay put.”

“Why?”

“Because I can check my kids out of daycare myself,” his fingers tense a moment on the handle, acting like he’s going to open the door. “You can’t just overstep my boundaries before we’ve even established anything. It’s going to be confusing enough for them with you in the car. Stay here,” he places a hand in his lap, smiling as you walk into the center.

Leaving him with his thoughts for too long. How the hell did you end up with someone like Scott? He saw a little glimpse of you just then, demanding he stay put, but there’s still this brokenness inside of you. One he thought you had gotten over. That your parents’ influence still didn’t linger. And yet, you found someone just like your dad.

Andy isn’t certain if he’s good enough for you or your children, but he will try. He will try to be everything that you have ever wanted. To be the man that you believed him to be. You even knew his little ticks, and just how protective he could be of you.

He didn’t have to think about your worry of not being able to have more children the traditional way. It was a non-argument. He didn't care. He could survive without siring a child, but what he couldn’t live without is you. You had children, and while he understands Scott is the unfortunate father, they’re still a part of you. And would be in his life. That would be enough.

How your soon to be ex husband couldn’t see what you had sacrificed for your family is unfathomable. The more he thinks about Scott, the more he hates him, and Andy can’t go down this road logically. He can’t sit and stew about the ways he’d like to destroy Scott, because he is your children’s father. And it sucks that he’s a lawyer, and he’s limited anyways.

Andy could be a hopeless romantic, but only with you. Everything he said he meant. It is silly to say it out loud, but all those women were never you. Even the ones he tried a relationship with. He was a grown adult man, and still longed for you. Not what the two of you dreamed about, but you. Life wasn’t a life without you.

Audrey is the first to notice him. You hold Suede in one arm, while holding her hand with the other. The little boy is very obviously a mama’s boy; his head leans over on your shoulder, while a chubby arm wraps around your neck. Audrey holds onto two lunch boxes, and has a backpack too large for her body, but she points at him in the car. She looks up at you, saying something, and you smile down at her.

Opening up the door on Suede’s side, Audrey crawls in first. Dumping the lunchboxes and backpack on the floor before crawling into her booster seat. “Audrey, Suede, I want you to meet an old friend of mine. This is Andy. Andy, these are my kids Audrey and Suede.”

Suede gives him a wave, bashfully smiling as he looks up at you. But Audrey twists her head like a puppy staring at him. “You came to my house the other day,” you give a quick glance up at Andy. You knew he returned your wallet, and that Audrey had seen her, but you weren’t sure she’d remember.

“I did. I brought back your mom’s wallet. Did you have a good day at school?”

“Mommy already asked me, but yes.”

“Suede, did you have a good day, buddy?”

“Chess,” he answers, looking back up at you with a smile, and you kiss his head. You finish buckling him in, and walk over to Audrey’s side. Strapping her in and look at her. Of course she’d have a ton of questions and no way to focus them into words.

“Baby, you okay?” Maybe if you open the dialogue she could start talking. Vocalize her thoughts, so you understand what’s going on through her mind.

“Why is he here?”

“We had coffee, and lost track of time. So he came with me to get you,” you answer her as you get into the driver’s seat. Turning in your seat, you look at her. She isn’t done with her questions, and you want to allow time her to process everything.

“Do I have to keep this a secret from daddy?”

“No,” you try to remain calm, but your mind wanders to what she’s kept secret from you. “I told you, you tell daddy whatever it is that you want to tell him. We don’t have to have secrets. Secrets destroy relationships. We should be honest with each other.”

Her face scrunches up, trying to think of any question that might further help her figure out who Andy is, and why he’s here with you. “Is he staying for dinner?”

“Would you like him to?” She shrugs. She didn’t know him enough to form an answer. “If Andy would like to come to the house for dinner, he’s more than welcome to. I need to drop him off at the office.”

“Daddy’s office?” You shake your head no. “Is it out of the way like daddy’s office?”

“It kind of is,” Andy pipes in. He looks between the two kids, and Suede still smiles. He’s too sweet. “I bet the two of you are pretty hungry, and need a snack, right?” Suede enthusiastically, and claps his hands. “Audrey, you need a snack, too?”

“Yeah. Mommy and me made scotcharoos last night. I want ants on a log, too.”

“Ants on a log, huh? Your mom used to make that for me.”

Audrey smiles, kicking her little legs around, and you know that Andy has her. “Did she make it with sun butter or plant cheese?”

“She means plant based cream cheese. And I think I made it in all kinds of ways for Andy. Except he liked them with craisins,” Audrey curls her nose as she looks up at him, but Andy shrugs.

“Okay, so it’s settled, we’ll get a snack, and I can call an Uber. That way you and Suede don’t starve to death,” Audrey gives a giggle, and looks over at Suede who laughs with her. The two of them are in a fit of laughter, and you relax. You hadn’t realized how much you wanted them to like Andy. Even if he is just your friend.

Anything with Andy would rely heavily on them. If they didn’t like him — it would hurt. If they were influenced not to like him — you try to center yourself. You have no doubt that any man coming into your life Scott will try to influence their hatred. Even if you didn’t talk bad about Taylor in front of them.

If Taylor took a four year old to get a mani/pedi you smile, and thank her. Making sure to tell Audrey how pretty it looks, and hope she had a good time. When Taylor took Suede to get his haircut, you swallowed your pride, thanked her, and told Scott to next time ask, and make sure that he’s properly in his seat. If Taylor lets them swim at the pool without floaties, you try to remain calm, and wait for the kids to fall asleep, before going in on Scott. ‘It was a kiddie pool.’

You tried to remain neutral with Taylor, even though she’s part of the reason your marriage failed. But having the kids hate her isn’t going to solve anything. Especially since she’s in his life. Her bringing her cat around Suede is a different thing. You didn’t think you’d ever get the air purified for him. It’s bad enough when he’s around a space that the cat has been in. But bringing the cat here, and letting him hold her is different.

You didn’t hate the cat, but you want this space to be cat free since Suede lives with you. His home should be his sanctuary. “Hey,” Andy says beside you, “Get out of your head, and enjoy this moment,” he doesn’t touch you, even though he struggles not to. He smiles, and you look in the back at the giggling duo.

“Give me a good reason to continue this,” you look up at him, hoping that he remembers the thing. If one person is having second thoughts about something the other has to give one good reason and it makes things less scary. You’re terrified. This is early, but it is easy. Too easy.

“Andy, I need a good reason because,” you look back at them again, still laughing, and talking between themselves. “I’m scared.”

“This is just a friendship,” you roll your eyes, but continue to look at him. “And I’m scared, too. We’re in it together.”

You exhale slowly before putting the car in reverse. That was one good reason. You and him are scared. But the kids are happy. And you are. Yeah. You’re happier. You didn’t have to do this alone. You’re just friends. And even telling yourself that you know you’re a liar. You were never just friends with Andy Barber.

You try not to get attached to the sound. You try with all your might to not fall in love with this feeling. This is the first time he’s met them, of course it’s going to be easy. This is the easy stuff. Popping a tab in the dishwasher you start the contraption, and look around the kitchen. It took no time to clean up. Andy had offered to help, but instead the kids wanted to play with him.

And now all you hear is giggles, and the pitter patter of feet. They are playing chase or something, and it warms your heart that for at least today they enjoy him, and he is them. That takes away some of your jitters and concerns.

Andy comes running into the kitchen first. Darting behind you, and wrapping an arm around your waist, shielding himself from the two kids who giggle in front of you. “That’s cheating! Release the mommy!”

“Chess!” Suede nods pointing at Andy.

He leans forward, his chin resting on your shoulder. While it isn’t the most loving thing, it is a playful way for him to be close to you. His beard tickles your neck, “I’ll take Suede, you take Audrey.”

“Suedey! They’re planning something.”

“On the count of three. One.”

“Oh no!” Suede pretends to shiver in place.

“Two.”

“We won’t get out of this!”

“Three!” Everyone scatters. The kids bolt back into the living room, and you and Andy chase after them. The loudest screaming giggles reverberate around the house and back into your soul. You haven’t heard them so happy in so long. Hadn’t felt comfortable enjoying your home since that day.

Catching up to them would be easy, and shorten this moment. It would take away all the love and joy you feel, and also how thankful you are for Andy because he reminded you that life isn’t over, and it’s worth living. And even these small moments make it all the better. It doesn’t matter that the fort in the living room created a huge mess and is left abandoned. What matters is the almost musical noise your children make for this day.

This will be the last day that they’re this old. Tomorrow they’ll be a day older, but right now this is your slice of heaven for the day. Everyone ends up in a pile in the living room on top of the discarded couch cushions. Breathless and still laughing. “Can Andy have dinner with us every night?”

“Chess!” Andy shrugs, smiling over at you.

“It is kinda lonely in my condo. It’s hard to cook for one. But…if it is a hassle, maybe we can just do it twice a week,” Audrey and Suede protest. Practically begging you to say yes to every night. There’s a lot to think about. Scott got them every other Friday until Sunday afternoon.

“I’m — yeah, w-w-we can figure this out. And now! It’s time to wash up for quiet time,” there’s a soft objection, but you straighten up. “And we’ve got to put the cushions back. Come on. It’ll be bedtime before we know it, and you guys have school tomorrow.”

—

Walking down the hallway, you smile, still seeing Andy sitting on the couch. He scrolls through his phone, until your figure blocks out the light, he glances up. Putting down his phone, he gives the couch a few taps with his hand. Smiling, you saunter towards him.

Sitting too far away for his liking, so he pulls you closer to him. Those deep blue eyes staring right into the depths of your soul. Beating down the walls that you swore you had painstakingly built up. Telling yourself it would just be you and them. “They’re great.”

“It’s because it was a good night.”

“With a happy mama,” bashfully you look away from him, but he pulls your chin up, making you look at him. “I don’t want to insert myself where I’m not wanted. You hesitated with me being here every night. So be honest, do you not want me here or is it your fear?”

“My fear,” he solemnly nods. “And Scott.”

“I don’t care about him.”

“I can tell. You get all tense when he’s brought up,” the fist his hand is making relaxes. “He’ll always be a part of my life. Those babies are half of him. And while I don’t like him, I won’t bad mouth him, not to them. You neither.”

He exhales. It’s long and drawn out. Too dramatic to be real, but he pulls you even closer. Your legs that were curled into your body, he brings over his lap, and he smooths his hand over your thigh. “I won’t bad mouth him to them. But you also need to vent sometimes. I don’t want a relationship where we talk about him nonstop. I don’t want him in our relationship, unless necessary. Tonight was nice. It was us. All of us. And he was a non-factor.”

“So what is happening between us?” Picking up your hand, he compares sizes. Ghosting his finger over yours before he circles your ring finger. And you stutter. That fear creeping back up because there’s no way he is meaning what you think he is, “Andy?”

“I’m going to marry you. I told you then, and I’m telling you now. Maybe not in a month or a year. But I will marry you. I meant what I said earlier. This is your pace. I’ve waited and waited, and I have you back, and I’ll wait more if I have to. But, I really should call an Uber.”

“You should,” you lean in closer. So close there’s only whispers between you. “Dinner tomorrow?” Moving your lips causes them to brush against his.

“Yeah,” he answers, and you can’t respond as the gap completely closes. These kisses aren’t needy, they’re so sweet. Gentle pecks that turn more lingering, and you pull away. “One more, and I’ll have a car pick me up.”

“Okay,” you make this kiss deeper. Pulling him into you by his shirt, and his strong arms wrap you up even tighter. Holding you like you are going to escape him again. Life has taken you a different path than you thought, and yet you still hold all this love for him. Things are different, they’re adult now with adult problems. But in his arms feels right. You don’t want to fight it. You want to embrace it through the fear.

His arms always give you so much comfort. Like the way he holds you can stop the world from spinning and you can live in a moment of no noise, no movement, just peace. Being in a bubble with him has always felt so right. “Andy,” you breathlessly say, pulling apart.

Literally having to push on his chest to get air. “I’m sorry,” his head tilts to the side, giving you an inquisitive look. “You waited, and I didn’t.”

“If you didn’t wait, you wouldn’t have Audrey and Suede. I’m not sorry,” smiling, he picks up his phone. Scheduling a pick up before returning to look at you. “You’re a package deal. And I like it all. This life is what I wanted with you, and I’ll have it.”

“You’ve always been so cock sure.”

He hisses, leaning back into the couch as he clicks on the tv, “With a cock like mine, and being able to pull those sounds out of your body, yeah.”

“Oh, stop it,” you playfully smack at him, before laying your head on his shoulder, and just basque in his warmth. Settling on him like he belongs here with you. Getting in one sitcom episode before turning in for the night. Having him here to help with the kids, the household chores, but to have him as your best friend. And your constant.

“You know, you don’t have to be so calm and controlled with me, right?” His hand rubs over your ass, almost trying to push you into his lap instead of just leaning on him. “I can be your calm, too.”

“I know, Doe,” and you know he really means, but I’m the protector. That part of him is never going to change. So you just embrace it. Embrace that your divorce led you right where you needed to be. Yes, it sucked. Yes, it hurt. You wanted to hit him. Wanted Scott to hurt the way you did, but now you see the silver lining. You see Andy.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

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[blueishspace]

Looped Sun 14

Loop #427

Tango: Jimmy!?

Jimmy: Rancher!?

Pearl: Oh wow, they look adorable.

Scott: Yeah...

Pearl: ...who shit in your coffe today Scott?

Scott: What!? Uh??

Pearl: Why are you being weird about it?

Scott: Excuse you, I'm not.

Pearl: Uh huh.

Scott: I'm not... lying.

Pearl: Huh, if you're sure.

Scott: ...

Pearl: Listen Scott, I don't care if you are jealous but don't let it become a problem.

Loop #429

Scott: Pearl, Pearl I fucked up.

Pearl: What's wrong!?! What happened.

Scott: I let it become a problem.

Pearl: ... What did you do.

Scott: I ... Poured water into Decked out 3.

Pearl: YOU DID WHAT!?

Scott: I didn't mean to but I just so ... tempting.

Pearl: Do you know how much time Tango has put in on it!?!

Scott: I know!

Pearl: That was multiple loops of work

Scott: I ...know.

Pearl: ...

Scott: I'm ...sorry.

Pearl: Listen Scott, you are one of my closest friends but that was really fucked up.

Scott: I don't know why I did that... I didn't think that-

Pearl: You didn't think at all mate... Why did you come here?

Scott: ... I'm going to tell Tango.

Pearl: ... And? Why tell me?

Scott: I... don't know. I guess I wanted to know what do to. And now I do.

Loop #430

Tango: ...

Scott: ...

Tango: So?

Scott: I dropped water in Decked out 3.

Tango: ...That's it? Scar does that like 5 times a week, It's annoying but accidents happen-

Scott: It wasn't an accident.

Tango: What do you mean?

Scott: It wasn't an accident, I did it on purpose.

Tango: But why would you do that?

Scott: I... don't know. I didn't think.

Tango: ... Are you sorry?

Scott: I am.

Tango: Are you willing to help fix it?

Scott: Yes.

Tango: Then, a truce?

Scott: Truce?

Tango: I think I know why you did that, so truce, for Jimmy's sake at the very least.

Scott: Alright, truce. For Jimmy.

Loop #433

Grian hated yhs loops with a passion, he really did. Taurtis was an enabler at best most of the time and Sam... Yeah. Accidentally going sun titan mode and being mistaken as Amateratsu was new... To be fair there was much that he wanted to avoid so all things considered this was actually a pretty ok loop. Still getting worshipped always felt unconfortable...very unconfortable.

Loop #438

The Narrator: You are on a path in the woods and at the end of that path is a cabin and in the basement of that cabin is a watcher. You are here to slay it, it will be the end of the world if you don't.

Mumbo: ...

The Narrator: Hello? ...

Mumbo: I feel like this is a meta joke of some kind.

Loop #441

Tango: Let me guess, Scott?

Scott: Tango?

Tango: Is it so obvious?

Scott: Your villain name is literally fireburn.

Tango: Listen, creativity is hard ok?

Scott: So, guess fire powers?

Tango: Fireficating, yes.

Scott: Sooo, why the visit?

Tango: Jimmy is a hero in this loop.

Scott: Oh? I have to see this.

Loop #443

Scar: Ok, what if I also went insane this time.

Pearl: Uh?

Scar: I could be uh... Scarlet Scar!

Pearl: I hate the fact it's an alliteration.

Scar: Oh, it could be so fun!

Pearl: Hmm... I have an idea.

Pearl: Prepare for trouble!

Scar: And make it double!

Pearl: To protect the world from devastation.

Scar: To unite all people within our nations.

Pearl: To denounce the evils of truth and love.

Scar: To extend our reaches to the stars above!

Pearl: Pearl!

Scar: Scar!

Pearl: Team Scarlet blas off at the speed of light.

Scar: Surrender now or prepare to fight.

Tilly: woof woof woof woof! (Woof, that's right!)

Loop #446

Tango: Being a gem is... Weird.

Scott: Comes with being a being of light. Pearl told me about it but it is a lot weird when actually in it.

Tango: So you are a uh...

Scott: Sapphire, guess you are a carnelian.

Tango: Yeah... overcooked too.

Scott: Ouch. Jimmy is a lapis lazuli this time around.

Tango: That's the water one, right?

Scott: Yeah. I can being you to him. You could say sapphires are good runners.

Tango: Jimmy is so bored lately, I don't get it.

Scott: It's part of the loops, happens to me to. Sometimes we feel a little numb.

Tango: We should do something interesting but I don't know what.

Scott: Actually I have an idea.

Scott: Jimmy!

Jimmy: Scott, Tango, what's going on?

Tango: We have someone we would like you to meet!

Jimmy: Oh uh...sure...?

Scott was actually pretty light Tango had to admit, it only took a twirl and and a dip and they were both engulfed by light.

Jimmy: U-uh!... H-hi? Y-you look great! I mean good I mean nice.

???: Oh don't be shy, you look great good nice too.

Jimmy: A-ah!?? Uh??

The fusion didn't last that long considering the tension still present between the two but Jimmy's glowing face was worth it.

Prev Next First

[dilfluvver4eva]

SCOTT VERSION OF MY LAST POST

i just hate when people act like scott was the villain in the whole theo and stiles situation. like be serious. there are THREE main reasons why things played out the way they did.

1. theo.

literally the biggest reason. theo was manipulative, calculated, and knew exactly what he was doing. he played the long game, slowly driving a wedge between scott and stiles, twisting the truth, planting seeds of doubt. he wasn’t just trying to break the pack—he was targeting scott personally. he wanted his spot. and he knew the only way to get it was to isolate him, turn his closest friend against him, and make him doubt himself. theo wanted scott alone.

2. stiles.

listen, i love stiles, but let’s be real—he made mistakes here too. he let his fear, his guilt, and his desperation cloud his judgment. he did kill donovan, but instead of telling scott the truth from the start, he let theo twist the narrative. and yeah, scott should’ve believed in him, but at the same time, stiles pulled away first. he was already spiraling, already shutting scott out, and theo took full advantage of that.

3. scott’s nature.

scott was never going to be the guy who immediately believes in killing as an option. that’s just not who he is. that’s not how he leads. so when theo came in, feeding him half-truths, making him question things, scott hesitated—because he wanted to believe that there was another way. and that hesitation cost him. not because he was wrong, but because theo was playing him from the very start.

i get why from stiles’s perspective, it felt like scott didn’t trust him. i get why from an outside view, it seemed like scott was being too naive. but—

scott was just a kid. a teenager trying to do the right thing, trying to lead a pack, trying to hold onto his friends while everything was falling apart around him. theo had been manipulating this situation for MONTHS. scott was set up to fail. and when you’re that young, when you’re under that much pressure, when the people around you start pulling away—it’s easy to make the wrong call.

scott is a complex character. he’s morally good, but that doesn’t mean he’s perfect. if the story were told from another angle, he would’ve been painted as the tragic hero—the one who lost everything because he tried too hard to see the good in people.

[rei-ismyname]

X-Men #15 review

The search for Piper Cobb comes to a head as the X-Men realise they're not the only hunter in the woods. 3K continue doing ... whatever the fuck it is they're up to, and the X-Men know even less than we do. Zombie Whale, demons, Cassandra Nova. Cyclops leaves the house! There's even a Magneto panel suggesting field work in his future.

Sibling relationships can be rough

We pick up right where we left off - Quentin is missing after The Marauder was shot down and Piper's body is being driven by her mutant twin. Wyre and 3K observe the 'subject' - a being very similar to Cassandra Nova. Mama Cobb was preggers with twins and one of them disappeared. To my surprise twin absorption is a real thing, though in this case they survived as a psionic entity and used the Acanti whale killed a few issues ago to build a body - they're a biokinetic.

The twin is incredibly resentful of Piper and her mother, which I find sympathetic. Mama Cobb hates mutants and even Piper finds it awful - the bodiless nameless twin has been trapped drinking mutant haterade for years. Cassandra Nova was fascinating thematically and conceptually but there's not a lot of pathos or relatability in 'born evil.' A powerful teenager with their first taste of agency ever escaping from a situation where they're hated for how they were born - that's got legs. How could they not be bitter? They got a raw deal from before birth and have been screaming since then with nobody to listen.

The search for Quentin continues, though they don't see him anywhere near the wreckage. Xorn can't sense him but he doesn't sense death either. Didn't know he could do that but whatever. He bails to search alone. Good to see you, dude. Magik established that she can see souls in issue #3 - she should use that or one of the many spells she knows. Magik figures they need bodies to cover as much area as possible. Her solution is to summon demons from Limbo, offering her blood as payment. I'm assuming Maddie Pryor is too busy being a cutout villain in One World Under DOOM to care. I'll elaborate on this at the end - it works for new readers who know little about Magik and moves the plot along - so it does the job.

Idie reports on the angry monster/twin situation and that gets prioritised. Cyclops asks Jen to do a recon flyover which she balks at. She's not an X-Man and definitely not ready for combat, though Scott agrees and pushes her a little. Beast doesn't agree with that at all, whereas Kwannon thinks she needs to be pushed. Her argument that he's been coddling her in his lab tracks with what we've seen (which hasn't been a lot) and suggests the two are close.

Both opinions seem valid to me, though Jen doesn't have anywhere else to go and didn't really sign up for neverending paramilitary hijinks. Beast puts his face really close to Kwannon for some reason. I find it kinda funny tbh, compared to the panel before it he's really up in her personal space and narrowing his eyes. It's odd, though Jen isn't privy to any of this backseat driving and agrees. She confirms that the beast is chasing Piper and Idie for now.

Alas, the twin picks up the worst possible mentor/confidant - Cassandra Nova. They're hurting and lashing out thinking nobody has ever been through the same thing. Cassandra has, more or less, experienced exactly that. It's fascinating that the twin has zero sense of self image or identity and I hope it gets explored more. How do you help a 13 year old tabula rasa with only rage to drive them? What an existentially horrifying concept, made only worse by the influence of a mass murderer.

She tells them a series of lies and half truths that's easy to believe as it fits into what they're already feeling. Cassandra manipulates their complete lack of human interaction and points their rage at the town. Half of what she's saying is beautiful self actualisation but the rest is grade A bullshit.

I wonder how deep Cassandra's investment goes. She's never really had a peer or a child and hasn't wanted one. If this new person rampages as she has, tears down instead of builds, hates instead of loves - then she's justified in her own atrocities. Then again, she's never cared before and she's had TWO BILLION YEARS to think about it. Seriously, Kitty and the Marauders stranded her in a time before oxygen with only single celled organisms for company. Maybe shoulda killed her or something because I think the plan backfired. Lol. Anyway, the monster is heading to Merle and that's bad.

The team spring into action with a very cinematic 'running down the hallway while giving commands' action scene. Magneto and Beast casually discuss preparing Magneto's 'prosthetic.' That might be exciting next issue or the one after but that's all the Magneto for this issue. Also his mouth is gone.

As Piper's twin lurches towards town the X-Men attempt some de-escalation in vain. It's telling that even now they're willing to listen until Cassandra urges them on. Psylocke attempts to commune telepathically but Nova is just like 'no. Get the fuck out - this one is mine.' The X-Men just keep getting blindsided by 3K who have excellent resources and superior intelligence. Cassandra Nova negates the psychic superiority they rely on, especially with Quentin down. He has had time to prepare since encountering her trap - if they survive this they can regroup with a better idea of what they're up against. The element of service helps too, and a swipe blows up the Quinjet, or part of it. That's two vehicles down.

Magik puts her foot down and takes a shot, teleporting Juggernaut through their head. It does almost nothing, as they just reform their flesh easily. It's a zombie whale body that they're using like a Wild Sentinel, except there's nothing to destroy here without unacceptable collateral damage.

This dipshit wants to intervene but needs permission to do so from the rest of 3K. 14 issues later it seems we're meeting the Santo Marco six. Magik will be overjoyed.

Re: 3K - X-Comics have a proud history of shadowy nebulous conspiracies - the 12, the OG Upstarts, and so many more with varying results. They were more a product of the longform storytelling guaranteed to pre-Y2K writers, so it's significant that here in the 15th issue we still don't know what they're trying to achieve. They've got silly codenames and are making humans into mutants, but it's hinted to be in service of something greater. Nova and Wyre had a 'who has killed more mutants?' pissing contest last issue, yet their goals feel broadly pro-mutant, anti-x-men. Cassandra Nova herself has been used a lot without capturing the sheer terror of a force of nature she used to be - which isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's just that we've been here before and remixing nostalgia has to be done really well to impress me.

With half the team indisposed or unknown they're suddenly outnumbered by ... The X-Men. Problem after problem. Some great designs here on what I assume are 3K made mutants. They certainly look threatening with a wide array of powers evoked, not to mention their confidence and undoubtedly superior information. Do they really think they're the X-Men or is it a brainwashing thing? It's the cliffhanger, so there's no answers here. I'm certain we haven't seen these folks before though.

It's good to see the 3K plot start intersecting with the protagonists. They've been shadowy figures for nearly a year, not hiding their mutant making results but keeping themselves mostly out of focus. We'll see where it goes. Maybe it's due to a stack of excellent comics dropping at the same time, but the tension didn't grab me. It's executed well enough and looks good though it feels like not a lot happens. Or rather, questions get answered then five more get introduced. The X-Men get knocked out or disabled a lot in this run, often as problems arise with a big one as a cliffhanger. Something about the familiarity of the formula takes me out of the story, as if I can see the writer's hand. The X-Men don't seem too stressed either which certainly contributes to lower tension for me.

It's an interesting enough concept, but the whole package feels just okay. Not amazing, not awful, just fine. Entertaining enough but nothing to write home about. I should read back through the first two arcs to see how the pace and repetition feels in trade. Issue #15 is a workmanlike X-Men issue - decent escapism for 15 minutes that could be building to something better. Now that nonsense events are in the rear view, time will tell.

[buckseb]

dating theo raeken includes

pairings — theo raeken x fem!reader

summary — how it would be to date theo raeken!

word count — i’ll do word count later (i’m so exhausted and drained but im posting this because i wanted to post SOMETHING since i haven’t been writing a lot on here for QUITE a while)

warnings — mentions of theo's past, both loads of angst and fluff (obviously), mentions of reader's grief / loss of losing allison and watching her die, mentions of stiles's trauma and past with the nogitune, love confessions, kisses, use of a pet-name [princess], mentions of anxiety and mental health, theo is very protective, mentions of the 'i hate everyone but you' trope, sort of enemies to lovers trope but it's really just hints at it, forehead kisses, cuddles.

notes — i hope this isn't rushed. i'm currently in the middle of TRYING to finish my eddie fic (which, i've decided is just going to be a short tooth-rotting fluff type instead of the complicated one i wanted to do, because i'm really struggling with both writer's block and my mental health and illnesses taking their tolls on me), so this is just me trying to get this done as soon as possible before work again tomorrow. so please bear with me! gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated </3.

main masterlist

-meeting this boy is certainly very confusing for [y/n], to say the least.

-not only because of the fact that she's like a little sister to both stiles and scott, but also because she doesn't know whether or not to listen to stiles when he says that his childhood friend is bad news.

-and especially, because of the fact that her best friend is simply just paranoid about literally everything, it's hard to believe him.

-though, this is why she takes his comment seriously when she first meets theo, because she knows that he has a right to be paranoid — after everything he went through with the nogitune and the torture and guilt of hurting innocent people when he was void and from his guilt over blaming himself for allison's death.

-also the fact that theo is so adamant to get her to believe that he's genuine to her just confuses her more.

-though, after finding out how theo's sister died — how he couldn't save her, much like how it felt with her losing allison — she began to second guess both herself and stiles.

-not only did she feel immensely guilty for not giving him a chance, but also for how stiles had treated him.

-though, did she really need to feel guilty when it ended up being true that stiles was telling the truth?

-nevermind this fact that it doesn't get revealed at this point in time yet. what does get revealed, is the fact that [y/n] begins to feel badly for not giving him the benefit of the doubt.

-also, the fact that she's the type of person to do exactly just that, made her feel even more guilty than before.

-because of the guilt and regret constantly affecting her, she eventually stopped listening to stiles' warnings and decided to give theo a chance.

-they bond over both of their own experiences of grief and loss.

-stiles doesn't like this so much — protective big brother mode activated!

-theo and [y/n] grow closer every day, despite how much stiles tries to get in the middle and ruin their semi-growing relationship.

-no matter how much he tries, stiles can't get in between the two traumatized teenagers.

-and despite her own very heavy trust issues, [y/n] is very quick to trust him.

-maybe it was just the fact that despite everything she's been through, she always believes in the best of people — theo himself being one of those people.

-though, stiles isn't too thrilled about this.

-but, despite how much everyone isn't too excited about them getting so close and connected, there's something about how much they've grown to care for each other that they're all grateful for — at least, until everyone finds out the truth.

-and let me tell you, the betrayal she feels when she finds out the truth? well, that's just a complete understatement.

-because the one time she finally decides to open up and let someone in, it not only happens to be theo, but he also ends up being a betraying, liar.

-but, let me tell you, when she finds out that he tried to kill scott and did all of the rest of the things that hurt the pack? well, that anger and heartbreak was something unlike anything she's ever experienced.

-sure, she went through many hurtful experiences — like losing her best friend, or being treated like she wasn't enough, and never would be. but, there was nothing like realizing the fact that she'd been tricked into falling in love with someone she'd been warned about in the first place.

-the second she found out about the betrayal, all she could think about and remember was the countless times stiles had kept telling her that theo was bad news, that there was something off about him.

-and all she could do was think about how wrong she was — how she couldn't have been more stupid for trusting him, especially over one of her best friends.

-needless to say, she spent most of her time avoiding him as much as possible.

-she didn't see him for most of the time he spent 'helping' their pack.

-though, when it came to where kira came to save the day and sent theo back to hell with his now tragically-dead sister, [y/n] had been quite literally right in the middle.

-although theo had kept [y/n] out of danger in his own discreet way, not even that could've made her change her mind about him and step in to protect him — or to at least try to save him.

-and trust me, in her head, she really wanted to. as mad as she was at him for using and betraying her, she knew couldn't do it.

-she'd already felt like she betrayed the pack when she found out that she had been hanging out with the actual enemy.

-how could she try to save him, especially after everything he put them all through?

-so, despite the clear connection between the both of them — even after the betrayal and heartbreak he just recently put her through — and the streaming tears on her face, she doesn't move.

-even when he begs her and scott for help, she still stays in her place — no matter how much it kills her to ignore his pleas for help.

-the months after he's gone, a new dark hole fills inside of her heart, and she quickly becomes distant and unwilling to ever let anyone else in.

-when everyone meets up for their normal meetings or when they're on one of their missions to save some people, [y/n] would obviously join.

-but, her heart would no longer be in it anymore. and the distance between all of their relationships with her is a total understatement.

-even the pack realizes how different she's become because of losing theo, no matter how many times she refuses to admit it to any of them.

-and when liam brings theo back, everything changes for her.

-theo tries to show her that he feels remorse for what he did to everyone, and especially to her.

-at first, she's not willing to listen to anything he wants to say or do for her.

-but, eventually when they have to work together against the ghost riders, [y/n] is forced to be civil with him. but, she does make it quite clear of how much she detests him in the beginning.

-and then, they're forced to work together and face the trauma and tension between them.

-with theo, he's both struggling with his trauma and ptsd and trying to prove to both the pack and [y/n] herself that he's really trying and trying to be better.

-the whole time, since he's gotten back, she's been hateful towards him, and rightfully so. but then, things change when she begins to notice the big change in him.

-seeing him try to constantly save liam, or trying to cover for the pack when they're supposed to be on the run from monroe and her hunters, she's forced to accept that he's changed.

-a part of her wishes that he could've changed for her. but, if only she knew that she's one of the reasons that he wanted to change.

-i mean, for sure, he definitely wanted to do it to be a part of the pack and for himself. but, also, it was for her too, because he wanted her to care about him.

one day, after things with monroe have settled — after scott and the pack have finally ended things with monroe and her hunters — theo and [y/n] finds themselves alone in her house, after a pack meeting and after everyone left.

“why haven't you kicked me out yet?” theo asks with a fake smirk and matter-of-fact tone of voice.

she gulps, turning to face him with nervous eyes.

he immediately notices the change in her behavior, but he can't call her out on it because she speaks before he can, “you've changed, theo.”

he's startled by her statement.

he opens his mouth to respond, but once again, she interrupts him, “ever since you got back — earlier this year — you've changed. you haven't been the same since.”

he shrugs, trying to act nonchalant and like this conversation isn't a big deal.

she inhales, preparing herself for what she's about to do and say.

“when you first got back,” she gulps, raking her fingers through her hair anxiously. “i...i didn't want to think about the possibility — i didn't even want to admit — that you changed. even when you sacrificed your life and freedom to save me and liam from the ghost riders.”

theo's eyebrows knit together in confusion. “okay... what does that have to do with anything?”

her breath hitches in her throat, moving to sit down at the kitchen counter, avoiding his eyes. “it's because i'm finally seeing it — the change.”

“okay... ” he trails off, moving to sit on the opposite side of her.

she sighs in defeat. “i feel like... things have changed between us. like recently.”

“what are you saying?” he asks.

this time, she looks up at him now with tears in her eyes. “i know we've both been acting like i hate you. but... ” she trails off, gulping. “i think we both know — maybe this whole time — that i never really hated you.”

“what's changed?” he asks, leaning his arms against the counter.

“i think maybe... ” she says, looking down again as she fidgets with her hands on the counter. “when you first got back, all you wanted was to live. and then, i think you saw some of that family bond that everyone in the pack has and you wanted it too — i think you realized how important it was and you felt like you owed it to scott and the others to protect them.”

he nods. “you're right.”

she inhales, once more. “a part of me...wishes you wanted to change for me too.”

she lets those words sink in, but then she starts to overthink what she said. “i—i don't mean like actually change for me, but that you wanted to, to prove how much you cared. about me, i mean.”

theo's face is unreadable.

because of this, she looks away. “but... the truth is, it hurts.”

the tears blind her vision this time, before they fall and her breath becomes shaky as she speaks again, “and well, the whole truth is that... when we first met and we became close in the way that we did, i felt like — for the first time in a long time — i felt hope that... ”

“i felt hope that maybe you'd be different this time — different than every other person that ever hurt me. i hoped that we could be something — more than just friends.”

she's left theo speechless, at this point.

“are... are you saying what i think you're saying?" he asks, tears in his own eyes — surprisingly.

wordlessly, she looks up at him and nods.

a shaky breath leaves his lips. “and you're not messing with me?”

she laughs. “messing with you? why would i be joking around about this?”

he clears his throat as she starts to feel anxious and nervous that she's really just screwed everything up.

sensing that she's about to shut down, he reaches across the counter to hold her hands in his own. “you're one of the reasons i did all of that in the first place.”

she looks up in shock. “what?”

“it's the truth,” he confirms, squeezing her hands gently. “i swear i've loved you from the moment i met you.”

she lets out a shocked and shaky breath. “really?”

he nods, smiling over at her.

“i... ” she trails off, finding the courage to tell him what she's known from the start too, “theo, i love you too.”

he sighs in relief as he takes his hands away from hers.

her eyebrows furrow together in confusion, almost missing the feeling of his hands over hers, but that feeling goes away when he walks around the counter and over to her.

"i love you so much that being away from you and thinking you hated me was killing me, princess..." he murmurs as he walks over to her and bends down, before lifting her chin up and kisses her softly.

-everything after that day changes for them.

-and everyone sees it.

-they spend a lot of their time with each other.

-to be completely honest, they make each other happy — they're so cute that the pack has to accept it.

-stiles is still extremely protective over her — he and theo had a very intense conversation about how if he ever hurts her again he would absolutely kill him for it.

-forehead kisses.

-the cutest cuddles.

-she's the only one that sees his soft side — he's all tough and reserved around everyone else, but with her, he shows that side only to her.

-his protective instincts are an understatement.

-if anyone hurts her — both physically or emotionally, and mentally — it's over for them because he would let the world burn to protect her.

-he becomes an even better person for her and the whole pack sees it.

-she helps him through his trauma and helps him get into therapy to work through it all.

-they're relationship works.

[watarfallar]

Do y'all want more of this or something else for next time?

Mumbo: There's beer in the cooler. Lizzie: What about for the children? Mumbo: You can get water from that water fountain and use it to water down the beer. Joel: Why don't we just give the kids water? Mumbo, angrily: I suppose you could do that!

Gem: You know, I always wanted to be somebody. Scott: You probably should have been more specific.

Lizzie: I'm a witch. I mixed some herbs and crystals together and now my cat knows the f-word.

Ren: It's locked. You got a lock pick? Grian: Yeah- Gem: *kicks in the door*

Joel: Whose turn is it to give the pep-talk? Martyn: *sighing* Scott. Scott: Fuck shit up out there, but don’t die. Impulse: *wiping away a tear* So inspirational.

Skizz: Pros and cons of dating me. Skizz: Pros. You'll be the cute one. Skizz: Cons. Holy shit, where do I begin-

Judge: Does the defendant have any special requests? Tango: Death penalty. Skizz, from the gallery: Tango, it’s just a parking ticket. Tango, whispering into the mic: Please kill me.

Gem: You’re overthinking this. Jimmy: You don’t know the appropriate level of thinking, Gem. What if I’m underthinking?

Mumbo: Hey, Cleo? Can I get some dating advice? Cleo: Just because I'm with Etho doesn't mean I know how I did it.

Pearl: What's your most controversial video game hot take? Grian: The pursuit for photorealism in games is a fruitless endeavor that only results in bloated file sizes that take too much space. Etho: Mario is a woman and just really butch.

Scar: Bad news—Impulse locked themself outside of their own house. Scar: Good news—we didn’t have to wait around for a locksmith. Scar: Bad news—Mumbo finds it very concerning that I know how to pick locks, and tried to unlock my Tragic Backstory(TM). I was too embarrassed to admit that the reason I learned it was because, at thirteen, I figured that was the kind of skill that would impress cute guys/girls/enbies. Scar: Good news—a cute guy/girl/enby saw me do it. Scar: Bad news—it was Grian, and since they’ve already seen me fall out of several trees, cry because I saw a fawn that was just too damn small, and knows I can ride a unicycle, they’ll never think I’m cool no matter what I do. It’s too late. They know.

Jimmy: Truth or dare? Grian: Dare. Jimmy: I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room. Grian: Hey Gem? Gem, blushing: Yeah? Grian: Can you move? I'm trying to get to Etho.

BigB: Isn’t it weird how we pay money to see other people? Skizz: You mean movies? Ren: Concerts? Scar: Prostitutes? BigB: Wha…N-no, I mean glasses, what the fuck-

BigB: I truly hate it here <3 Scott: Now replace “it” with “women”. Not so funny now, is it? Jimmy: Now replace “it” with “women”. Not so funny now, is women? Tango: Now replace “funny” with “women”. Not so women now, is funny? Mumbo: I’m having a fucking stroke. Jimmy: Now replace “stroke” with “baby”. Congratulations!

BigB, about Jimmy and Tango: My god, would you two just get a room already? Tango: Excuse me, BigB? BigB: You both just keep agreeing about horrifying things and relishing everybody else's misery. So seriously, when's the wedding? Jimmy: ... Lizzie: I ship it! Skizz: CAN YOU NOT?

Grian: Are oranges named orange because oranges are orange or is orange called orange because oranges are orange? BigB: Which came first, the orange or the orange? Impulse: Orange was first used to refer the fruit 1280 years ago but was not used as a color until 1000 years ago. Scott: What was the color called before then? Pearl: There was no color, duh! Everything was black and white!

Gem: So we're gonna read what we wrote down so we can tell everyone in the class something about ourselves. Impulse: Okay, my name is Impulse but you can refer to me as Lord Farquad. Gem: Okay that's not happening- how about you! Ren: I'm Ren and I like the movie White Chicks! Gem: ...Okay... whatever, I respect that. Bdubs: My name is Bdubs and I hate this place, it actually sucks here... Gem: Okay... and you... Scott: *nervous* Uhhh my name is Scott and my favorite color is... math.

Impulse: Eugh, Ren. Bdubs: Remember when they tried to kill us because I wouldn’t marry them? BigB: They’re always trying to trick me into giving them my house! Mumbo: One time I caught them stealing my moisturizer…

Bdubs: Mumbo, let’s go! Mumbo: Oh, yeah, about telling Mom and Dad, I was thinking about writing maybe a letter. Bdubs: Okay, you know what? That’s it, you had your chance. Mumbo: What-? Bdubs: Mom, Dad, Mumbo smoked pot in college. Mumbo: You are such a tattletale! Mumbo: Mom, Dad, you remember that time you walked into my room and smelled marijuana? Well, I told you it was Etho who was smoking the pot but... It was me. I’m sorry. Bdubs: And Dad, you know that mailman that you got fired? He didn’t steal your Playboy’s, Mumbo did. Mumbo: Yeah, well, hurricane Gloria didn’t break the porch swing Bdubs did. Bdubs: Mumbo hasn’t worked for a year! Mumbo: Bdubs and Etho are living together! Bdubs: Mumbo married Grian in Vegas and got divorced AGAIN! Pearl: I love Jacques Cousteau! Grian: I wasn’t supposed to put beef in the trifle! Gem: I wanna gooo!!

Scott: “I miss you” is the nicest text you can receive. Impulse: “I bought a monster truck.” Cleo: You’re both wrong, it’s “I have too much money, you can have some.” Gem: “I got you pizza.” Scar: Fools! I present to you this: “Bdubs is driving to your house right now.” Impulse: “Bdubs had too much money so they’re driving to your house in a monster truck with a pizza that they got for you.” Scott: “…Because they missed you.”

PLUS A BONUS HERMITCRAFT ONE:

Xisuma, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here. Impulse: Hey. Scar: Hi. Grian: Hello. Mumbo: Hey! Xisuma: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! Gem: We were out of Doritos.

[scribbles97]

The Nightmare Come True - Part 3

TW: POW, Torture Scott's POV 1 | Part 1 | Scott's POV 2 | Part 2 | Scott's POV 3 Thanks @loopstagirl for the support and inspiration!

Scott had thanked him. 

Scott had thanked him and it had made the Dog Tags in Jeff’s pocket feel all the heavier. 

“You found me.” 

It had sounded like the kid had never doubted him, and Jeff’s gut had started to refute the statement before he had consciously thought about it. 

Scott, I …

Wouldn’t have stopped until I did. 

I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner. 

Or, perhaps the most truthful of all, 

I didn’t. 

Because Colonel Jeff Tracy had not found Captain Scott Tracy. Instead, his son had been presented to him as a pawn in the game between one country and the rest of the world. It had been Hugh and Kyrano that had worked their magic and found exactly where Scott had been held. 

Hell, it had even been Kyrano that had found him in the cells when Jeff hadn’t heard his own son’s cries for help. 

The nightmare that had woken Scott in a panic and sent all manner of alarms blaring, were proof most of all. 

Jeff hadn’t saved his son. 

He had spent six months trying, and failing, to find him. He had stood by as others had taken action and done all the heavy lifting for him. He had done nothing whilst all that time Scott had been fighting. 

“What’s that look for?”

Jeff looked up from where he had perched on the arm of the chair Scott had fallen asleep in, Val’s whisper breaking into his thoughts. 

“He thinks I saved him, Val.” He murmured back, his hand absently brushing over Scott’s still too short hair, “He thanked me.”

Val eyed him for a long moment before hopping up onto the empty bed, her eyes assessing both he and Scott in a way Jeff had long since come used to. She’d speak when she’d decided what needed to be said, once she’d gotten a full picture of what was happening and the mindset of those involved. It was a skill she used to her full advantage and had seen her rise through the ranks of the Air Force right on Jeff’s tail. 

“The nurses won’t be impressed when they find him out of bed.” She watched him, leaning forward like it was a secret Jeff hadn’t already known the moment Scott had forced himself upright. 

“He needed to move,” He fired back, ready to defend as he had done when the same nurses had tried to force an oxygen mask over Scott’s face, “to not feel trapped.” 

He’d known even before he had asked that he wouldn’t have stopped Scott, even if he had wanted to. His son had always wanted to move, had hated confinement of any sort even when he had been tiny. Lucy had always laughed, insisted that he had gotten it from Jeff himself, and had known that he would inevitably follow his father to the sky where the only limit was the horizon. 

Being bound to a bed, barely able to stay awake, had always felt like …

“You helped him?” Val asked, raising an eyebrow that held no real heat. 

Jeff straightened, prickling at the insinuation he couldn’t quite see, “I was hardly gonna leave him to struggle on his own.” 

Because he had done that once, and even to that day he was seeing the reminders of that very mistake. 

Scott hadn’t wanted help, had been determined to push through and manage on his own even when he was exhausted and hurting. Jeff had partly fallen back on his Colonel Voice to get the Captain to listen, and it had twisted something deep in his gut that it had come to that. 

He knew the way Scott had leaned into him after he had thrown up had been subconscious, and definitely something he wouldn’t have done had he been more awake. It was for the same reason that Scott hadn’t actively called out for Jeff, except for in his nightmares. 

A much younger Scott had needed his father, and he hadn’t been there, so at some point the kid had stopped asking for him. 

Jeff had come back to his son’s though, and had sworn every day that he would be there for them. He would pick them up when they fell, guide them when they were lost, hold them together when they fell apart. 

Alan had just been young enough to still ask for him. 

Gordon had his moments, but had followed an example set by his older brothers. 

Virgil had always been his mother’s son, and whilst he would ask for Jeff, he knew his mother had always been the parent he had called for first. 

John wasn’t like the others, had always needed someone to see when he needed help rather than simply ask for it. 

Scott had once been like Virgil, except the oldest had been his father’s son where Virgil had been his mother’s. When Jeff had fallen into his grief, Scott had fallen to not wanting to ask for help. Ever since had had come to his senses, Jeff had been watching and doing his best to give his son what he needed. 

“You’re protecting him.” Val stated softly, the smallest of smiles playing on her lips. 

Jeff looked down again, Scott’s face slack in dreamless sleep, peaceful. 

He’d do anything to keep his son feeling that at peace, but he knew he couldn’t stop the nightmares that would come eventually.

“I didn’t protect him from them, nobody protected him.” He whispered, “He saved his crew, and he saved himself, I just turned up to pull him outta there.” 

“Maybe.” Val nodded slowly, “or maybe you turned up right when he needed you to.”

Jeff frowned across to her, “What do you mean?”

Her look was soft as she sighed, “They train us hard for what happens in prison, tell us what to do, what to say. There’s no training for this though, is there? For what comes after.”

He knew she was right, there was no guidebook or protocol for what Scott was going through. There was no command that his son could follow to make it better. 

Unless…

He felt sick at the thought, not confident that Scott was really ready for it. 

Command was something he could do though, something Jeff had seen him demonstrate a handful of times since he had woken up. He had found his voice again, rooted deep and found the stubbornness that ran strong in his genes to get himself from the bed to the chair. There was still something more needed though, something to get him to see exactly how strong he had been through everything. 

“Tomorrow,” He swallowed, “I’ll talk to him about a debrief.”

If Val was surprised by his statement, she hid it well. 

“I can’t get you in on it.” She stated with a heavy sigh, “But if he agrees, I’ll find a way for you to listen in.”

Jeff wasn’t sure he was ready for that, to hear exactly what Scott had gone through without being at his side to support him through the memories. He trusted Val though, knew she had stood up for the rest of the squadron, and knew that she would do the same if not more for the man sleeping at Jeff’s side. 

Slipping off the bed, she crossed the room to squeeze his shoulder with a silent nod before leaving them as quietly as she had come.

***

The nurses hadn’t passed comment when they had come to check on Scott, and Jeff said nothing in return as he scratched gently at his son’s scalp and thought about how stiff he would be when he did eventually wake. He deserved peace, the chance to rest undisturbed for as long as his mind would allow him. 

Jeff’s phone buzzing in his pocket startled him as he hurried to answer it before it woke Scott. 

“Virgil.” He hissed, glancing down to Scott, grateful to see him undisturbed despite the blue-tinged hologram lighting up the room. 

His middle son looked firstly shocked and then guilty across the miles, “Sorry Dad, I just-- is that… Scott?” 

Jeff realized too late that Scott would have been in the frame and immediately shifted the field to hide the eldest away from his younger brother’s eyes. 

“He’s sleeping.” He murmured, “He’s still recovering.” 

Virgil nodded quickly, eyes still clearly shocked at whatever he had picked up on of his eldest brother’s state.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have-- I just--”

Jeff straightened, already heightened senses picking up on the tone and immediately knowing the root of why his son had called. He glanced to the clock on the wall, a digital thing that showed the date in big bold numbers beneath the time. A quick mental calculation reminded him that Virgil had a recital that day, a solo he had been practicing since before Scott had been gone. 

They had both voiced hope that he would be home to see it. 

“What is it, son?” He asked softly, “Can your Grandmother still make it today?”

Virgil nodded quickly, glancing away from the phone before looking back again, “Yeah, Grandma’s still coming.” 

His voice didn’t hold its usual enthusiasm in anticipation of playing for his family. 

“I know you hoped he’d be home for this.” Jeff murmured, his free hand scratching over Scott’s scalp again, “We all did.” 

Virgil looked away again, someone out of field calling him, “I… it’s my turn for final rehearsal.”

Jeff smiled softly, understanding without the words needing to be asked, “I’m sure we could stay on the line whilst you play.”

Virgil’s face lit up, his eyes losing most of the worry that had settled there at the sight of his big brother, “You can? Ms Graham said it was fine but Grandma sid the doctors might--”

Jeff waved him off, quickly assuring him that the doctors could say all they wished. Scott had always encouraged Virgil to play, he was certain to appreciate the soft melodies even in his sleep. 

Or not, if the hand that reached to Jeff’s leg was of any indication. 

He glanced down as Virgil placed the phone on the corner of the piano, noting how Scott’s eyes were still rested closed even as he yawned. Reaching down, he rested his free hand over his son’s, unsurprised when Scott moved his hand to grip the best he could in response. 

Awake, listening, but not ready to face his brother was the summary Jeff came to as Virgil began to play.

He wasn’t sure when Scott’s body had tensed against him, but as the music floated through the speaker of his phone, Jeff noticed as slowly each part of Scott fully relaxed. Muscles that he was certain must have been tense for months, softened and lengthened as the melody flowed over them. The splinted fingers that had tried to curl around Jeff’s hand loosened until they were no longer holding on but resting lightly against Jeff’s palm. His eyes were open but distant, focussed somewhere in the middle of the floor but not really seeing the room they were in as the notes wrapped them in something soothing and calm. 

They perhaps could have sat like that forever, at peace with the music that had once been Lucy’s. Every song had it’s end though, and all too soon Virgil was looking back to the hologram with a smile much softer than the one he had given earlier. 

“Night Scott, night Dad.” He murmured softly before hanging up without another word. 

Jeff smiled to himself as he repocketed his phone, glancing down to Scott with a raised eyebrow, “How about we get you into bed? You’ll feel it tomorrow if you sleep here all night.”

Scott grunted as he shifted upright, clearly already feeling it after the few hours he had been sat in the chair. His eyes darted across the room to the bed, his jaw tensing as he gauged the distance he had to move. 

For a brief moment, Jeff thought he would need to convince his son to accept help once more, but right as he was about to step in front of him, Scott turned and held out his arms. 

“Easy does it, right?” Jeff had asked through his surprise, stepping up and supporting Scott’s weight just as he had done so earlier. 

Together they had shuffled back to the bed, Scott’s weight shifting more and more on to Jeff the further they got. Not that he minded, hell, Jeff would carry his son across that room a thousand times if it made things better.

“Dad?” Scott slurred as he sunk back into the pillows. 

“Yes, kiddo?”

“Tell Aunt Val you can lis’en.” 

By the time Jeff had interpreted just what Scott meant, the kid was asleep. 

***

Val had brought the Generals with her the next afternoon after a more lucid Scott had agreed to the debrief. She had stood at the door as the pair had introduced themselves and then asked Jeff to leave the room. 

He would never forgive the United States Air Force for what had followed when Scott had gripped onto his sleeve and stated in no uncertain terms that he wished for his father to stay. For a brief moment, Jeff had been assured that Scott would be fine as a flicker of the self-confident son shone through in the face of his superiors. 

Those superiors had instantly extinguished the flame.

There had been no gentle reminders, or soft explanations, no understanding or care for what the airman in the bed had been through whilst they had sat in their ivory towers. Without hesitation, one had barked a sharp reminder across the room, 

“You’ll do well to remember who’s in charge here, Captain.” 

Scott had instantly cowered, turning away from the authority figures and looking to Jeff with the same fear that he had found him with back in the cells. The hand that Jeff had taken in his own had been clammy and had shook as he held on to it tight. 

“Son, you listen to me,” He had told him, ignoring the pair at his back, “I’ll be right down the hall. You tell them everything that happened, and as soon as you’re done I’ll be right back here.”

It had taken a long moment before Scott had nodded and released Jeff’s arm enough for him to leave. 

As soon as he was out the door, he had shoved in the earbud Val had slipped to him and hurried to the office down the hall she had cleared for him. 

There he had listened, barely breathing, as Scott had recounted every detail of the six months he had been gone. 

From departing for the mission, to being shot down. 

From being helped by the villagers they were meant to be saving, to being captured. 

From being thrown in a cell with the rest of his squad, to fighting to protect them when their captors had come to interrogate them. 

It had all been almost robotic, Jeff could tell his son had slipped and fallen back to the Air Man he had been six months ago. There was no emotion there, the Generals didn’t have an interest in how their people felt, just one simple fact after another. 

“Your squadron told us--”

“You debriefed my people without me?” Scott cut in, “Sir, protocol dictates that any debrief should be--”

“You were unavailable, Captain.” Val told him gently, “Protocol was followed given the circumstance.”

“Your squadron described to us how you protected them.” One General continued, as if there hadn’t been an interruption, “Did you not trust them, Captain?”

Scott’s voice held the same flicker it had earlier as he responded, “I trust them all with my life, Sir.”

“So why take the beatings in their place?”

Anger curdled in Jeff’s own stomach, it had not been as simple as beatings, even he knew that much. The animals had tortured Scott and his squad, first for information and then, he imagined, just because they could. 

“It was torture, Sir.” Scott’s voice held an edge to it, sharp and dangerous, “I wasn’t going to let my people suffer more than they needed to, not if I could help it.”

“Your squad say you bartered with your captors, is that correct?”

“I bartered to protect them.”

“Yet it wasn’t enough, was it, Captain? You still lost half your team.”

There was a long pause, a quiet shuffling and a soft murmur of assurance from Val before Scott responded. 

“I failed my people, Sir.”

Jeff bowed his head, screwing his eyes shut to force his own tears away. Scott had failed nobody, he had done his best to protect his people in any way he had been able. He had stayed strong and fought, Jeff had seen how fiercely Scott protected his own, had been called to the principal's office over fights caused by bullies too many times to count.

“Why did they separate you?”

“Sir?”

“Your squad told us that just before their rescue, your captors split you from a group cell to individual cells. Why was this?”

“I don’t know, Sir.”

“So, in all your bartering, they never gave you anything?”

“They stayed away from my people.” Scott answered, his voice wavering, “They hurt me instead of them.”

“But they didn’t, did they Captain? They still hurt your comrades, didn’t they?”

Jeff felt his heart drop, the insinuation hitting him square in the chest. 

“Not as badly as they could have, Sir.” 

“What are you insinuating, General?” Val’s voice held as much ire as Jeff felt. 

“We find it awfully convenient that the Captain is reported to have bartered with the guards and was then hidden away when the extraction team arrived.”

Jeff slammed his fist on the desk, sending pens scattering across the floor as he half stood from the seat he had taken. How dare they imply that Scott had betrayed his country! They hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen the scars or the nightmares, hadn’t heard their son scream their name like they couldn’t hear him. 

“You want to know where I was when they came?” 

Scott’s anger had always burned hot and fast, explosive against anyone that stood against him. It was something he had gotten from Jeff himself, a trait he had tried and failed to move him away from. 

Up the hallway, in a hospital bed, unable to stand for himself, Scott’s anger burned equally as hot but in a far more dangerous way. There hadn’t been any quiver in his question, each word had come as clear as the one before, his tone low and blunt. Anyone that had known the boy’s mother would have heard her as Jeff did in that question, and they would have known that whatever came next was far more dangerous than an explosion. 

“Please, enlighten us, Captain.”

Scott’s breaths turned ragged for a moment, anger and panic mixing briefly before a long breath was drawn in. 

“They put me in Solitary. To the right of the room where I was found, there was a concealed entrance, a room five by five.” 

Jeff felt sick as he remembered the screams for help he had heard over the phone, and he knew. 

“They took me there three times, General, and they left me there for weeks. Did my team tell you that? Did they tell you how they all thought I was dead the first time because I was gone for so long? Did they tell you how I couldn’t stand for a fortnight after they let me out? Did they tell you how I came back covered in my own filth because the guards thought it would remind me what sort of pig I was?”

Jeff was torn between pride and anger, between needing to listen and needing to stop. He’d had ideas, had made assumptions about everything his son must have been through, but he wasn’t sure any of them had quite matched the reality he was hearing as Scott ranted. 

“I was in there when they were saved! And I came out thinking they were dead and that I’d failed them all. That was when I gave up. That was when they could have killed me and I wouldn’t have cared.”

Jeff found himself gripping the desk to keep himself seated, his stomach churning enough that he thought about reaching for the waste bin. Scott had given up, had been ready to let them win. If Kyrano hadn’t have found him when he did…

“I think your people should be checking for that hidden room, General.” Val’s voice was the cool balm Jeff needed to hear, “That and the Squadron’s statements should be confirmation enough of Captain Tracy’s loyalty to the Force.”

Jeff didn’t wait for her text to confirm it was clear for him to return. He didn’t acknowledge the Generals as he passed them in the hallway. He didn’t stop for anything or anyone until his arms were wrapped around his son. 

Scott clung to him in return, a raw sob breaking free the moment that Val left them alone. 

“I’ve got you kiddo.” He murmured into his hair, “You’ve been so strong, I’m so proud. You didn’t fail, you saved Jen and Gary and Sienna, you did good Scott. You’re so brave.” 

His son’s tears weren’t like the ones that came before, they lacked the shaking grip that had come with fear and memories of terror that had been haunting him since he had woken up. 

His sobs were raw, his grip solid and sure against Jeff’s back, like he had finally realized that his father wasn’t going anywhere without him. He wasn’t sure if it was relief, anger, or something else that fueled them, but it was something.

He held on and kept repeating the soothing mantra until the sobs subsided into long aching breaths and Scott pulled back, clearly spent. 

“Dad?” He murmured, eyes drifting as Jeff repositioned himself to take hold of his hand.

“Yeah, kiddo?”

HIs eyes flickered to him, brow furrowing as he spoke, “I lied to them.” 

Jeff leant closer, holding on to Scott’s hand with both of his, “To who?”

“The Generals. Told ‘em I didn’t care. I did though, I wanted to come home, wanted to see the boys, and wanted to see you. Then you found me.”

He pulled Scott back to his chest, hugging him tightly as his own tears broke free and ran down into his son’s hair. 

[flashfuture]

In 2001-2002 there were these little bits of Kyle Rayner's Green Lantern run by Judd Winnick that were heavily focused on sexuality. Mainly about Kyle's teenage assistant Terry Berg. Terry was assigned to help Kyle by the illustration company Kyle worked for. And they became pretty good friends. Kyle at this point in time lived in SoHo (Lower Manhattan) with Jennie Lynn-Hayden or Jade the daughter of the original Green Lantern Alan Scott. Jade for background is like a living Green Lantern ring and her skin is green because of this.

So let's get into the issue I'm going to discuss. Green Lantern vol 3 #137. This released in 2001

So Kyle tells Terry he proposed to Jenny and she rejected him (they had recently gotten back together and she told him to slow his roll which he got but it still stung a bit) this made Terry very standoffish.

He and Kyle argue Terry says some pretty terrible things. Kyle yells at him for it.

To which Terry starts crying and Kyle realizes Terry has a crush on him as he runs off.

Then Kyle's like manager? Andre or something comes and what follows is one of my favorite comic sequences ever. Modern comics on sexuality could never be this organically funny

"God. What about you, Man. You're an unmarried artist living in Greenwich Village. What do you think people say about you?"

Yeah Kyle what do the people say about you?

"Have you insulted anyone else about their sexual orientation this afternoon?"

"No just two, but the day isn't over..."

Very good Kyle set your goals high

So then Kyle realizes he is the very last to figure out Terry was gay and thinks maybe he could use a therapist to talk it out with. To which Jenny calls him a moron because the only person Terry will want to talk it out with is Kyle and send him off to go tell Terry the truth. Whatever that means to Kyle

Kyle's little cross "so" he's so awkward I'm obsessed. But Kyle starts giving Terry a pep talk. "And I don't really a lot of insight on this subject. But I do know this-- it's perfectly normal to ask these questions about yourself." And he promises Terry there is nothing wrong with him and Terry is getting pretty cheered up about it.

And then Kyle makes it clear. He's real flattered however

"But I'm with someone."

"And you're not gay."

"No I'm not. And you're sixteen. And, like I said, I'm with someone."

There is a point here that Kyle is rejecting Terry on the ground of being a kid and Kyle is dating someone else. Terry is the one who brings up Kyle not being gay. Which Kyle confirms he's not gay. But this entire story hinges on Kyle having never thought about this and then sitting down besides a teenager with no clue what to say other than it's normal to question this about yourself.

And the story ends off with Kyle and Terry joking around and a good hug and Kyle telling Terry he was very brave today.

[The next bit of Judd Winnick writing Kyle having personal feelings about sexuality as a whole is a much less feel good story. It's the Hate Crimes two issue arc in 2002. Which I discuss here if anyone is interested]

[momentofmemory]

If you were going to add an episode to Teen Wolf, what would it be about?

Oh i so got u bestie; i have so many thoughts about a bonus episode in between Codominance and Sword and the Spirit (5x13 to 5x14)!! The overarching theme of the episode would be trust—how it's been broken, how it's been healed, who you choose to put your faith into (and why), etc.

A-Plot

Scott seeks out, finds, and confronts Deucalion, in response to discovering Theo is looking for him at the end of Codominance. I think you could still keep the tension of whether or not Deucalion is double crossing Scott or triple crossing Theo, and then that final showdown will feel less out of nowhere

The main people involved here would be Scott, Kira, and Stiles, as Kira processes what all happened with the skinwalkers, particularly re: her test, and gets some closure between her & Scott re: her fox

In order for it to make sense that she goes back to the skinwalkers after Codominance highlighted how much she doesn't want to be with them, this episode would have to do some groundwork of her realizing she wasn't in control when she killed the oni and "beat" the test. We see her break her sword in the next episode, so i think maybe she should try to use it again in this one—and fail. This provides some really interesting stakes for Eichen & Scott's faith in her

Also i think scira deserve a talk about scott lying to her, and feel like this could be related to the crater in his chest he also won't talk about. I think his trust in Eichen could really elevated if Scira had a scene where Scott tells her the truth about just how big her fox is, and he trusts her not only with that information, but that she can still do it

Also also Scott and Stiles actually talk about Scott dying for heaven's sake!!! We needed it so bad and I think this would be a good time for it, especially as Kira finds out about it for the first time. Then we get a sciles hug bc i said so

How their varied fears of the nogitsune vs kira's kitsune plays in very heavily here, too

Ahem so anyway this resolves with a tense scene between Scott & Deucalion where you're really not sure if you can trust him at all, and afterwards Scott is worried he's making a bad call—and Stiles says it's okay, because he doesn't trust Deucalion, he trusts Scott, and Kira follows him up by saying that either way, this time, the pack will be there to back him up.

B-Plot

I hate Eichen so bad but I think it would've helped if Lydia had had scenes with Valack when she's more cogent/given more agency—maybe something that clarifies what he was doing with Peter at the end of s4 and how that led to her?

I feel like this would have to be in a mindscape, same as she has with Meredith, so Lydia is able to respond coherently/isn't just a prop to talk at

This could also clarify some of Valack's goals/motivations more concretely and foreshadow Lydia's victory over him in Lie Ability

C-Plot

Instead of Theo telling Malia he'll help her at the end of Codominance, their arc would be drawn out over the episode. This would heighten the tension of her having to depend on him, while allowing her to wrestle more explicitly with whether or not she's looking so she can kill the Desert Wolf, or to save Deaton

At the same time Scott is reckoning with his death, Theo is reckoning with Scott's resurrection—prompted, perhaps, by Corey having realized Scott was scared of Theo in the tunnels, the same way Corey was scared of Scott

Misc

I'd love a scene with Liam & his Dad—a werewolf reveal, preferably, +Liam processing his choices re: Scott & Hayden with someone that loves him, but is removed enough from the situation to comment on Liam's responsibility

I could get a Deaton & Corinne scene, as a Treat<3

[mochiwrites]

title: the runoff of water tastes bitter and sweet

warning(s): n/a

chapter(s): 1/1

relationship: mumbo/grian/scar

summary:

He knows what he promised Tubbo, knows that he would explain everything at a later point in time. But he doesn’t want to. He’d much rather avoid this conversation all together and spin some story. That isn’t something he can do when Scott is a very dangerous threat and this is so much bigger than himself and his son. He knows that. It doesn’t mean he can’t hope for it, can’t wish for it. (Besides, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Grian’s rings in his head, doesn’t he owe Tubbo the truth?) He can feel his heartbeat in his ears, can hear it so loudly and clearly and oh Scar hates everything about this moment. He curses Scott for ever putting him in this position, and himself for having a hand in that. “Dad?” Tubbo’s hoarse voice cuts through his thoughts, a knife to the tension. His words sharpen the dull blade, able to cut right through it all. “Are you alright?”

read on ao3 here!

reblogs do more than likes!

OKAY HI WE'RE BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED SONGBIRD THINGS -- I think I've got arc 3 figured out much better than I did before! :D which means we're back to arc 3 and some songbird writing! <3

[yallemagne]

Finally posting my feelings on season 3 of X-Men: TAS. Ughhh.

Episode 1 & 2: Out of the Past

Looooove Gambit and Jubilee’s continued sibling relationship. 

Yuriko: “You killed my father!” Logan: “I didn’t!” Yuriko: “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Don’t got much else to say other than ugh this leads into the space shenanigans and I haaaaate that. 

Episode 3, 4, 5, 6, 7: The Phoenix Saga

This saga is a drag but that doesn’t mean I didn’t get emotional when Jean and Scott parted. Seriously, when they kissed?? And Jean’s hair lit up like it was aflame? Fucking sexy as hell can I be them? These two are romance incarnate. 

Episode 8: No Mutant is an Island

Scott is so fucking done and I love that for him. He deserves a chance to go apeshit. Says he’s sick of playing “den mother”??? Oh my god. Speaking truth to power. Especially since Logan’s absence clearly marks that he’s already gone off to sulk, Scott deserves some sulk time for himself. 

THE ORPHANAGE. RUSTY!!! RUSTY COLLINS!! My darling Russell. 

“He’s just not used to the loving discipline a boy his age needs.” Kill this pervert. “After only two days I already love you like a son.” SCOTT KILL THIS PERVERT!!

Killgrave’s using these fucking kids as a scapegoat and the crimes they’re blamed for in his stead are what keep them from getting the help they need. I fucking hate this cunt. 

THEY DUMPED SCOTT IN THE POOL??? DOG?? What are y’all gonna do when a man is found drowned in your pool? Say “whoops guess he couldn't swim”??

I don’t like this Sarah chick. I’m sorry but like Killgrave is the most suspect guy ever, and she endangered the lives and futures of those children because “no one else would take them”. All that bullshit about her seeing the mutant kids as family? Girl, you got rid of them. She’s just gonna sell them to the highest bidder again because that’s what she did last time. 

I don't like that the message is "acceptance and tolerance is earned not forced" no, tolerance is NOT earned. Under no circumstances should a child be forced to EARN the right to live. Killgrave is wrong because he's a human trafficker using children to commit crimes. And obv his plan to groom the kids to become politicians would have never worked because his actions have gotten the kids in trouble with the authorities before, meaning they are distrusted by society because of HIM.

Episode 9: Obsession

I’m just gonna take a wild guess and say the Ming Dynasty scroll was planted to lure Archangel in. 

Warren is a fucking prick. Worthington is a dumb cunt and I hate him. “Deep down, he is still Warren Worthington!” Well, Warren Worthington is a bit of an angsty prick, so that ain’t saying much Rogue. Rogue and her sympathy for bitter blue bastards is gonna be her downfall. 

“Xavier was right, it is sentient! We can speak to it!” Uhh… or the ship just has Siri, McCoy. 

“Ship, you are a work of art.” “Thank you, Henry McCoy. You have no idea what a pleasure it is to interface with someone who appreciates the subtleties of my programming.”  Okay damn. I stand corrected. And Hank is about to wine and dine a ship. Jioegpoi Hank getting shocked for attempting to hack the ship and the ship apologizing. Wolverine and Cyclops are just standing there like “why are we here playing voyeur to this weird shit?”

I knew it, the scroll was planted. I fucking called it.

They need to stop giving Hank compelling love interests and then getting rid of them by the end of the episode. 

THEY SHOT APOCALYPSE INTO SPACE LIKE KARS. 

Episode 10: Longshot

Logan teaching Jubilee to drive!!! And he’s wearing a fuckin’ cowboy hat and a bolo tie. Why is he dressed for the rodeo? And he’s just such a dad for the rest of the episode, he recognizes Jubilee’s crush on Longshot and IMMEDIATELY goes into Dad Mode. 

“Bad doggie! No biscuit. We got leash laws in this town, mutt.” I fucking Love Wolverine. 

“Allowing me to scan his mind must be Longshot’s decision.” We love a king who respects consent. 

I fucking love Domo’s nicknames for Mojo. 

Yeah, I think I love Longshot. And I think most of the reason is just that I’ve read Exiles but ya know. He really is a heartthrob. He’s cliché but it’s a fun cliché. 

Honourable mention: that ram guy who threw away his gun to pull out a knife. 

Jubilee outfit without the coat is cute. Lol but they kept accidentally animating her with the coat on. 

Episode 11: Cold Comfort

BOBBYYYYY. Gay boy what are you doing here? Lol Bobby was the golden child, that much is obvious. At the same time he’s like “I was never good enough for you!” Dude Xavier let you get away with everything and that bred resentment in your teammates. 

Scott’s been wearing a bomber jacket recently and it just makes me miss Morph more

“What’s with those two? I’ve never seen the Professor so angry.”Daddy issues. “It’s a surrogate father-son dynamic with unresolved issues of dominance.” Wow damn I was right. 

Bobby: *insults Scott* Logan: *unsheathes claws* “Only I can call Cyke a goody goody.”

Jubilee looking up the records <333

FORGE???

QUICKSILVEr????

…Havok? oh gee.

Love Logan calling out that the government is employing mutants to police mutants. Forge says they're helping but like... Jaguars. Faces.

WHAT THE FUCK POLARIS. Polaris you absolute piece. “You wouldn’t have supported my decision so we faked my disappearance.” Who does that? Imagine needing to have absolutely no pushback in your decision-making, so to avoid having an argument with your boyfriend you fake your own kidnapping and start dating someone else without ever breaking up with the first guy. I wouldn’t hold it against her if it were just a simple misunderstanding, like if she left a note but he thought she wrote it under duress, but she purposely led him to believe that she needed to be rescued. 

They need to stop introducing characters that could be permanent additions to the team and then squandering that.

Episode 12 & 13: Savage Land, Strange Heart

Who is this chicken lady? I can’t take her seriously, she looks like a chicken. 

Rogue and Storm are lowkey dating and I love it. 

NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO CLOSE THEIR EYES. Who knows? Maybe it isn’t as simple as closing your eyes or looking away… but then why have Sauron repeat the phrase “look into my eyes” if you don’t actually have to look for him to control you? It’s stupid. 

“Well, next time Storm is kidnapped, I’ll make sure they take her someplace nice.”

The Savage Lands are fucking boring oh my god. 

I’m guessing… Sinister was in the soil when they last left… they’re saying Garokk is in the soil… hmm?? I’m probably wrong tho… it actually is just Garokk, that’s boring.

WOLVERINE TACKLING AND PETTING ZABU!! Fucking adorable.

Episode 14, 15, 16, 17: The Dark Phoenix

This whole saga gave me the ick. It made me sick to watch. It’s is just a very disgusting storyline. First, Phoenix invalidates Jean’s free will, then the motherfuckin’ Rape Syndicate drops in and invalidates Phoenix’s free will. It’s just very gross and I felt like I was playing voyeur to some gross man’s fantasy. OH WAIT I literally fucking was because of that creep character I refuse to remember the name of.

“Ohoho! Looks like you’ve been having fun without me! Where’s the Cajun?” kinky

Who the fuck are these silk-stocking wearing hoes? “Tradition demands that this power be wielded by us” Ah, so they’re white supremacists. 

Every woman wants a piece of Scott. Callisto wanted a piece, Dazzler wanted a piece, The Phoenix is staying in Jean’s body because she wants a piece. “Dark pleasure of destruction” Fancy words for saying you want to peg that man. 

KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF OF HER. GET A JOB. STOP FUCKING TOUCHING HER YOU CREEP. I scream. They do not listen. But hahahaha Scott’s beautiful eyes broke her out of the creep’s rape fantasy. 

DAZZLER YOU PIECE. I know it’s hard to resist Scott’s charms but you do NOT spring a kiss on a man. Literally this whole thing is caused by people not respecting consent. The only reason Scott and Jean’s psychic rapport was broken was because Dazzler couldn’t fucking keep her hands to herself. And it's SOOO forced bc he could have just sent Gambit to play bodyguard.

These guys are fucking governing Genosha in ’97. Whose bright idea was it to put the Rape Syndicate in charge of a sovereign nation?

“I know what you’re thinking, bub. Question is: “Can I get Wolverine before he turns me into shish kabob with his claws?” Well bub, seeing as these claws are adamantium: the strongest metal known and can slice through vanadium steel like hot butter, you gotta ask yourself: “Do I feel lucky?””

“Lousy year.” *drops wine bottle on man’s dick*

I just love unhinged Wolverine quotes.

“I need no help from a woman to destroy the X-Men.” What a surprise. The head creep is a misogynist. Question: if Shaw can absorb any energy, can he absorb the energy of me ripping his spinal cord from his back? Asking for a friend.

Just when I think it’s over this damn saga still won’t end. Lilandra I thought I was done with you, woman. You come back into my life to fridge Jean Grey a second time, you piece. 

Scott/Jean has captured my mind and soul. They’re perfect. I love them so much. 

Episode 18: Orphan’s End

What an on-the-nose title for an episode where Cyclops learns his father is alive. Oh by the way that was mentioned before, his father is a space pirate. 

Cyclops mockingly calling Corsair “dad” fuels me. Let him tear his father a new one. 

Corsair says that if he’d known his children were alive nothing could have stopped him from coming back. Girly you never even looked, deadbeat. Just assumed your sons were dead for convenience, motherfucker. 

Episode 19: Love in Vain

We need a codeword for when Rogue gets dragged into some bullshit by toxic people from her past. Girl has had too much. Cody gave me bad vibes from the beginning. 

The fact that they defeat the Brood by talking to their sentient fish space ship? Two for two on sentient ships saving the day this season.  

Logan trying to comfort Rogue but her gravitating toward Gambit, the one whose affections she spurned going after the one that got away… I just got a lotta feelings, okay?

Season 1

Season 2

[a-lil-bi-furious]

Top 10 Ships Involving POC in 10 Different Fandoms (Round 4)

Thanks to the wonderful @welldressedllama for the tag! 🥰 Just for funsies, this time I’m doing enemies-to-lovers/rivals-to-lovers/maybe-not-traditional-enemies-but-way-too-antagonistic-to-not-fit-the-bill-to-lovers edition. In no particular order:

1) Macy Vaughn x Abigael Jameson-Caine (Macigael) - Charmed CW

I ultimately respect the AbiMel plot, but these two were literally Right There. Excellent chemistry from moment one and they perfectly mirrored each other with Macy as a witch with demon blood (struggling with darkness) and Abigael as a demon with witch blood (struggling to accept lightness). To think of what could have been with the two of them and the acceptance of good and bad and the whole complex mess of the self makes me insaneeee

2) Nicky Shen x Zhilan Zhang (Zhicky) - Kung Fu CW

Idek what to say their dynamic was just so fun and watching them begrudgingly grow close was chef's kiss.

3) Eve Polastri x Villanelle (Villaneve) - Killing Eve

Literally THE enemies to lovers imho. What more do I need to say? Eve said seduction into my darkness? Yes please. Villanelle said feel emotions for one (1) woman and obsess over her? Okay. They're enemies AND lovers. They've both tried to kill each other. So? They get each other like no one else. No one's doing it like them

4) Scott McCall x Theo Raeken (Sceo) - Teen Wolf

Sorry but I'm clawing at the walls, gnawing on my hands, howling at the moon over them. Exploring all the tension and the guilt and the fear and the longing is delicious. And the layer of long-lost friends? The subtle seduction into trust and the mutual destruction on Theo's part? Sorry I'm crazy about it sorry.

5) Mona Vanderwaal x Spencer Hastings (Vanderstings/Spemona?) - Pretty Little Liars

Somebody in this fandom needs to tell me right meow why they're not a bigger thing??? Quintessential 'they hate each other's guts but no one matches their freak better'. Throw Hanna in the mix and that's the perfect formulation, but they hold their own on enemies-to-lovers grounds sooooooo well.

6) Raven Reyes x John Murphy (Murven) - The 100

Truth be told they're not my top ship for each other BUT they are the epitome of enemies to friends (to lovers). Some of the best relationship development I can think of.

7) Bonnie Bennett x Nora Hildegard (Bonnora) - The Vampire Diaries

Literally why were they not a thing? Bonenzo ily but look at them! They had such a fun little antagonistic flirty thing and Nora was canonically crushing on Bonnie. All I want is queer Bonnie and I was so close to having it

8) Kitty Covey x Yuri Han (Kitturi) - XO Kitty

Kitty literally took one look at rival Yuri making music and crossed that thin line from hate to love. Girl was like "I will take this Angry tension and transform it into Sexual tension" and I respect that

9) Kathani "Kate" Sharma x Anthony Bridgerton (Kanthony) - Bridgerton

I've only watched one full episode and seen random bits here and there but I'm obsessed with her and I'm obsessed with them. Literally scene one I was all in. They are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires

10) Luke Alvez x Penelope Garcia (Garvez) - Criminal Minds

I missed Morgan as much as the next guy, but Penelope and Luke's banter and chemistry is unmatched. Shame on the new seasons for lying to me and saying they went on a date but didn't have the same chemistry, that is such Bull

Honorable mention: Zafira x Nasir (Nasira? Nafira?) from the Sands of Arawiya duology, who I feel I cannot officially include because I have only read a small excerpt so far, but I expect to like very much

Round 1 | Round 2 | Round 3

As always, no pressure whatsoever, but I’ll tag @freddieslater @aconfusedidentity @userlaylivia @scribeoffate @sees-writes @rhyslahey and anyone else who wants to play! :)

[life-winners-liveblog]

Wait does this mean that 3l Scar's gonna pretend that he's the ghost of the future???

9.2

3L!Scar: ...

Grian: So ... Are you the ghost of life series future? Why... why have you taken the form of Scar...my Scar? You know how it makes me feel don't you.

*3rd Life Scar nods*

Grian: Of course you do ... Well don't you even try I am not going back... I don't deserve to.

3L!Scar: *sigh* Follow me... please?

Grian: You know I can't say no to Scars face... where are we going?

~~~~

*sound of thunder*

Grian: It's going to rain very soon I hope wherever we are going is covered.

3L!Scar: It isn't but the rain won't hit us.

Grian: What do y- the desert... you are leading me to the desert...

3L!Scar: Where else would I lead you to.

~~~~~

Grian: So here we are... the cactus ring... is this our stop?

*3L Scar nods slowly*

Grian: So here we are then... say your piece and- why are you just looking at me?

3L!Scar: Why do you think you deserve to suffer?

Grian: uhhhh- what?!?... It's because I hurt everyone around me, no matter what I do.

3L!Scar: You are so sure of that.

Grian: Of course I am! It's the truth.

3L!Scar: Is it? Well I disagree... you were put in a difficult situation and you had to do what you didn't want to do... I think you made some peoples life better.

Grian: Who in the worlds life did I improve? Tell me.

3L!Scar: Scars life first of all.

Grian: I killed him 3 times! I lead the creeper to him! I didn't cover the ravine! I beat him to death.

3L!Scar: The first was a prank that ended badly, the second an accident and the third you were forced into, but I am certain that he doesn't blame you for it... I am certain he considers you the best thing about this place.

Grian: How can you be so certain of this??

3L!Scar: I have my ways (he is litterally the person he is talking about lmao).

Grian: ... *Sigh*

3L!Scar: You still don't think you deserve to be happy...

Grian: I don't...

3L!Scar: So you want to waste the win? If you really care about m-Scar... Then make the most of the win he gave you.

Grian: What?!?

3L!Scar: The Grian I know was in a terrible situation, stuck to the first red life and with so little allies and yet he persevered and got a win... so now you have a chance for a new start, new friendship, even a new base... Don't trow it all away for this... You deserve it after all you have been trough.

Grian: But...but I-

3L!Scar: Scar gave up for you, so make the most of his sacrifice. If not for yourself then do it for m- him... please.

Grian: You don't look like my Scar...

3L!Scar:... What do you-

Grian: You ARE my Scar...aren't you? Please tell me I am not imagining it.

3L!Scar: How did you-... Yes I am. *Takes off hood* I missed you Grian.

*Grian hugs Scar*

Grian: It was the tone, I don't think even the greatest spirit could clone you so perfectly...

3L!Scar: Guess I am really special then!

Grian: So ... You really don't hate me?

3L!Scar: I could never hate you Grian, never in a 1000 years.

~~~~~

Grian:... So...why are you the ghost of Life series future? How did that even happen?

3L!Scar: It's a long story Grian don't worry about it. (Why is he continuing the ruse even when Grian knows who he is? He prefers that Grian thinks he became the ghost of life series future over Grian knowing he's a watcher)

Grian:... I think I am ready to go back now... Will you come with me?

3L!Scar: Of course! It's my pleasure!

~~~~

Grian: So ... Now what? Is this a goodbye?

3L!Scar:... It doesn't have to be...

Grian: Does that mean... can you stay here with me in the winner v-

3L!Scar: No ... I have... future ghost buisness... I can't... But I can come visit every once in a while?

Grian: ... Last hug before you leave?

3L!Scar: Of course.

*They hug again*

Grian: I missed you so much.

3L!Scar: me too... Well... It's time to go now...It's a see you soon then!

Grian: See you soon Scar.

~~~~~

DL!Scott: Really Scar? Even after he discovered your identity you still kept the lie going? Why did you do that?!?

3L!Scar: I didn't want him to know I was a watcher! I just convinced him that I became the ghost of Life series future.

DL!Scott: And he believed it, which is even more idiotic.

3L!Scar: ... It doesn't have to be a lie ..

SL!Jimmy: Scar... what does that mean Scar... why are you summoning the Watchers Scar?!?!!?

3L!Scar: Hiiiiii fellow Watchers! How are you doing? Today? Or tonight? Looking splendid today I must say-

👁️What do you require Scar?👁️

3L!Scar: Could you...uhhh give me the title of ghost of Life series future? You don't need to give me extra powers, just the title!

👁️Hmmm... on one condition... we do need help with dealing with a situation we are way to busy to resolve ourselves... if you agree to resolve it for us we'll give you that title.👁️

3L!Scar: Yes! That's perfect!

👁️Then the deal is done👁️

DL!Scott: Did you just ... Accept a job you don't know anything about just so the lie you told Grian isn't actually a lie? Are you serious?

3L!Scar:... Yes?

DL!Scott: I can't with you... Do you realize how stupid that was? Agghh. I am going somewhere else now or I might get a migraine.

SL!Jimmy: I'll go with him... Good luck with the Watchers and their assignement.

[mummybear]

My Brother's Best Friend - Part 3 - Explanations

Words: 6287

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Tiny Bit Of Smut, Multiple Heart To Heart, Protective Scott, Possessive Stiles, Jealously, Talk Of Marking, Talk Of Mates. Think that's it.

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Melissa McCall, Derek Hale.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski and Reader

Summary: A little bit more of the truth is revealed and things get heated between Stiles and Sadie, not in all positive ways. Just how much can Sadie take?

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I know I missed a week there, had a busy week at work! And hopefully this extra long chapter will make up for it, I was going to cut it into two chapter but I felt it flowed better as one, so I hope that's okay! Please let me know what you think, really hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 3 - Explanations

Scott’s whispered confession reaches your ears and you collapse against him almost immediately. Being turned was the one thing Stiles had insisted that he would never want, and he’d become increasingly adamant as the years had gone on. You can’t help but worry how this has affected their friendship, this was a pretty big thing to come between two friends. You also need to find out just how badly it’s currently affecting the two of them individually. They were two of the most important people in your life, which only made hearing all of this that much harder.

Scott pulls back to look at you as soon as you’ve recovered from the shock. You know that he needs to talk, to get this off of his chest, so you don't say anything in reply. You're slightly unsure of what to say right now anyway, because he’d done it, you knew he wasn’t lying, he’d bitten Stiles and that only meant one thing. 

Besides, It's not like you can argue with him, because given his choices and his abilities, you would've done the same thing, especially in the heat of the moment. Knowing your brother the way you do, you know how hard it was for him to make that decision. He’d never wanted to turn anyone, let alone somebody who couldn’t make the decision for themselves.

A fleeting thought crosses your mind, does Stiles still have the beginnings of his mothers condition? Or had his new werewolf side shielded him from that reality? But Scott speaking pulls you from your thoughts.

"Trust me, nobody can hate me more than I hate myself for what I did that day. I know it was selfish, I do. But I couldn't lose my best friend, Sadie. Not like that, not when I had the chance to save him."

You hug him again, making sure to squeeze him extra tight. 

"I won't tell you that you made the wrong decision, Scott, because that would make me a hypocrite. I'm pretty sure in your position I would've done the same. But have the two of you spoken about any of this? The guilt you're clearly feeling? Are you guys okay?" 

"Sorry, I’m just worried about you, well, both of you." You mumble under your breath, pulling back to look at him. You're sure that your wince is visible as soon as the words leave your lips. 

Not that Scott shows any sign of being overwhelmed by your inquisition, nothing new there though. He simply gives you a fond smile as he looks you over, as if contemplating if you can handle his next words.

"Typical, Sadie. Always thinking of everyone else, never yourself.” Scott sighs softly, before he continues. 

“Stiles knows how I feel and why I feel it, and he gets it. We've talked at length about this, trust me, I think he’s sick of me asking at this point. He isn't happy about what I did, not by a long shot, but he's had time to process and he understands why I did what I did." Before Scott can continue he groans in pain and clenches his teeth.

You quickly grab his shoulders and force him to look at you. "I guess I got it from my big brother, huh?” You state matter of factly, trying your best to distract him from whatever pain he’s feeling but you watch as he balls his hands into fists, clearly doing his best to ignore whatever is wrong. Then you watch as his face begins to contort in pain, instantly worrying you. 

“Scott, what Is it?" You demand as the worry tightens your stomach almost painfully. He reaches out and quickly grabs the couch and his claws start protruding from the tips of his fingers.

"I hate to ask you this, Sadie. But I need you to go down to the basement with me. Stiles needs you, he's in pain and he and I, our connection, it’s diff…" Scott's sentence is cut off when he moans, grabbing at his head and dropping to the floor. 

You don't even think as you leave your brother, making a run for it, heading towards the basement door. You rip the door open and charge down the stairs, flinging open the final door as soon as it’s in reach.

"Stiles?" You call out as soon as you round the corner, but you come to a halt as soon as your eyes fall on the man in question, he’s chained to the wall in front of you. Growling low and sinister the closer you get to the men. You glance at Derek and Liam standing off to the side, looking like they’re ready to pounce at the slightest hint of trouble, and move away a little.

Lydia quickly grabs your hand and pulls you with her all the way to the other side of the room, with Allison and your mom. 

You very quickly realise that you can't look away from Stiles. His eyes are a much deeper purple than you had initially seen earlier. Maybe they changed depending on the situation and perhaps his emotions played a part in it too. Simply another thing you were yet to find out. 

You finally allow yourself a real look at him and the man he’s become. Your eyes move over him slowly, taking your time to check him out. He's certainly not the same Stiles Stilinski that you remember. He looks mouth-wateringly good, even covered in dirt and blood, his corded muscles ripple as he strains against the restraints, his clothes clinging tightly to his sweat-soaked body. You’re unable to get over how he was still the skinny defenceless boy you’d fallen in love with. His hair is a little longer than it was the last time he’d been home. Yet another thing you’d failed to notice. Stiles had you so distracted earlier tonight that you’d barely managed to pay attention to anything, except the things he was doing to you. You didn’t give much thought to how much he had changed. 

"Mine." Stiles growls suddenly for the second time tonight. Hearing that word again snaps you from your admiration of him, especially when he begins to thrash in his chains to get to you.

However, the tighter he pulls against his bindings the more blood drips from his elbows, but he either doesn’t care or he doesn’t seem to notice. Almost like the rage had consumed him. Stiles doesn’t even seem like himself right now, It’s almost like he’s possessed. And It’s killing you to watch him like this, to see him hurting himself in this way. The fact that it’s because of you doesn’t escape your notice.

You swallow thickly as you step closer to him, almost like you’re hypnotised by him once again. Except that this time you're very aware of the pull, so you don't put up any resistance. You wince when you catch sight of just how deep the handcuffs and chains have cut into his wrists. You’re really hoping that Stiles heals just as quickly as Scott, or he’s gonna be in a lot of pain for quite a few days at least.

"Let him free, please. I need him out of there and so does my brother." You whisper to nobody in particular, eyes locked on Stiles’. 

"We can't, Mini. I’m sorry, really. But we don't know what he'll do. He isn’t himself right now and we need to wait for Scott. Alpha’s orders." His words are careful, almost like he’s worried about upsetting you. Apparently he’s right to be worried about your reaction, because suddenly anger creeps up your spine, almost as if it isn't your own and you round on the Beta.

"I said let him the fuck out. Now. It's hurting him and my brother. So your Alpha can’t exactly speak for himself right now. So do it, let him out.” Your voice is practically a growl as you march up to Liam and shove him back against the wall. He holds his hands up to try and placate you, for some reason that just makes your anger spike higher. Your hands tighten in his jacket as you shove him back harder. “Or we can find out what happens if you really piss me off."

Anger is thick in every one of your senses. Although now this anger is one hundred percent your own. It’s a feeling you’re all too familiar with, though not at this intensity. It’s the feeling of needing to protect something that’s yours, so even though you might not have the same power as the people in this room, it is something you can’t stop yourself from trying to do.

You feel everyone’s eyes on you. Of course they don’t look overly concerned about you hurting anyone. It’s probably just that they don’t like seeing you upset, you quickly glance at Derek, “just wait okay, I’ll go get Scott.” 

You give Derek a stiff nod in return, watching him leave until the door closes behind him. No matter how much you try to calm yourself, it feels like the anger and despair are drowning you. It’s beginning to scare you now, there’s no controlling it, your hands shake as you screw your eyes shut, searching for some semblance of calm.

"Don't do this, this isn’t you, Sadie. It's okay, I’m okay. Breathe for me, please." You spin around hearing his raspy breathless voice and once again your eyes lock with Stiles.

His eyes have returned to the chocolate brown colour you've always loved. "Stiles," you sigh in relief. Taking a deep breath and stumbling back a little, as the anger seems to leave you in a dizzying rush, almost as if Stiles had helped you gain control of your emotions. But that’s not possible, right?

Your mother wraps her arms around you, right as Scott stumbles into the room with Derek’s arm wrapped around his waist to hold him up.

"He's back. For everyone's sake let him out." Scott’s breathless as Derek releases him and helps him lean against the wall to catch his breath.

Allison quickly undoes Stiles' chains with the key that she’d been tightly clutching the whole time, and with a nod from your brother Lydia and Liam rush to grab Stiles as he collapses under his own weight. You have to look away when Stiles rests his head on Lydia’s shoulder, jealousy and sadness hit you all at once, like a punch to your gut. Turning around in your mother’s arms you wrap yours around her too, burying your face in her shoulder.

Suddenly goosebumps raise at the back of your neck, “not now, Stiles. Sadie needs rest. Now that you’re back to yourself. I hope you understand that.” Your arms tighten around her, and you thank the stars that Melissa McCall is your mother, she has this ability to sense what you need before you even say anything. 

Without another word she turns you both and wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her body tighter, as she leads you out of the room. You follow silently, unsure of what to say. This day has already been completely crazy, you just need a little time and space to process everything. It’s so damn late you’re surprised the sun hasn't started rising yet.  

As soon as the two of you walk inside your room you collapse on the bed, throwing an arm over your eyes, but you can feel your mom watching you. 

“Can we not talk about it, momma. I just need the rest of the night to myself, we can talk tomorrow, okay? I promise I’ll be fine.” 

You inwardly flinch as the images of all the times you’ve seen Stiles and Lydia together flash through your mind on an unforgiving loop.

“Sure baby girl, you’ve got it. But you need anything, you know where I am.” She gives your leg an affectionate squeeze before heading out of the room, with a sigh you close your eyes and roll onto your, doing your best to sleep. Feeling a tear roll down your cheek as the images continue to assault your senses.

Some Time Later That Night

You wake suddenly, hearing the creek of the bedroom door as it opens slowly. You sit up and quickly turn on the bedside light, squinting at the brightness it brings. Your heart hammers in your chest as you feel yourself beginning to panic. Then a mop of brown hair appears around the door, “sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to talk, or sit, or I guess just be near you. If that’s okay? This is… I sound like an idiot, I just-” you cut him off, unable to stop yourself from giggling at him, his cheeks are bright pink and he looks so nervous. Which is so strange with how he looks now, but it’s also so much like the Stiles you used to know. 

“Come in, sit down. Dork,” you smile, patting the bed beside you trying to pretend all he is your brother’s best friend coming to talk, and completely ignoring the fact that you’d been making out a few hours ago.

He watches you closely, almost like he’s worried about scaring you off if he moves quickly.

“You sure? I couldn’t sleep, I just… I guess I just need to be near you, if you don’t mind that is. I don’t want to overstep, guess I thought we could talk.” He’s rambling and fiddling with his own fingers as he watches you closely.

You carefully lay your hand on top of his when he sits beside you on your bed. 

“Stiles, It’s okay that you’re nervous. I am too, this whole thing is kind of crazy.” 

“You have no idea just how crazy it is. Scott said he told you what happened to me. With this,” he says as he waves his hand over his body. 

“This is so strange to talk about, I never saw all of this in my future. Even though I don’t even know what this is exactly. Deaton has some running theories. Unfortunately none of us have anything concrete to go on right now.”

“Can I ask where Scott…” you can’t finish the sentence, unsure if it’s rude to ask about his mark.

Stiles swallows hard and nods, meeting your eyes, he shrugs off his hoodie and extends his arm. The mark is half way up his forearm, and to your surprise it’s still visible. You vividly remember how Scott’s had disappeared pretty quickly after he’d been bitten by Peter. 

“Yeah, I kinda got that you’re not just any kind of wolf, you’re different. Right?” you ask as he links his fingers with your own. 

Stiles leans back against the headboard and you do the same, turning so that you look him in the eyes. This feels good, like he trusts you, like he wants to confide in you, it’s something you’d always wanted. To feel like you could be there for him when he needed somebody the most.

“I was starting to get used to it, the whole wolf thing. Well, as much as was possible. But then I saw you and something changed, it was like I couldn’t control myself, I needed to get to you. I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, but when I found that douche in that room with you, I lost it. The thought of him touching you made me feel sick, the fact that you clearly weren’t interested both helped and made things so much worse. I wasn’t just angry as your brother’s best friend or even as your friend.” He reaches up and cups your cheek with his free hand, “I didn’t want his filthy fucking hands anywhere near you. I had to have you, make you mine. Possess you, mark you,” he rasps, his voice becoming breathy and laboured, and the purple in his eyes flashes again, before quickly returning to brown.

You swallow thickly, arousal and nerves swimming inside you like an uncontrollable force. “What about now?” you whisper, leaning in a little bit closer.

“Right now, I can’t lie. Those thoughts haven’t changed, they’re still there, no matter how much I try to push them down. The more time we spend together, the harder it gets to ignore, and it gets harder by the second not to throw you on this bed and make you mine.” He all but growls before clearing his throat. 

Stiles gives you a wry smile as he shakes his head. “But now I’m in control of myself, I won’t do anything, not until you know everything. I won't let you do anything more with me, not until you know as much as we do.” 

“Wow,” you whimper, clenching your thighs together as his words continue to stoke the fire inside you. You clear your throat and take a shuddered breath when Stiles subconsciously edges a little closer to you, so that your thighs are touching.

“What, you’re not even going to kiss me?” The words leave your parted lips in a breathy whisper.

“No.” His words are sharp and blunt. You wish it didn’t turn you on more but it does. 

“What else do I need to know?” you question quietly. Licking your lips as you watch him closely, wishing that you could just get this out of the way and get to the good stuff.

His thumb brushes your bottom lip, “stop doing that for starters, beautiful.” 

“Why’s that?” 

He chuckles quietly. “I think you know exactly why, so stop being a smart ass.”

Your nose brushes against his as you lean in the last little bit, “maybe you should tell me what I need to know Agent Stilinski, then we can get down to business.”

“Ugh, come on you little minx. Don’t do that to me,” Stiles groans, brushing his nose over yours softly.

“Just a little taste,” you whisper before moving in and pressing your lips to his. Stiles sighs in defeat and pulls you closer. 

“Fine. You win for now…” Stiles mumbles, pulling away briefly to meet your eyes, “but we’re not doing anything permanent. Not until we talk.”

“Yes Sir,” you grin, throwing off your duvet and climbing into his lap. The sleep shorts you’d pulled on before bed pull tight against your ass as you settle your knees either side of his hips.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, letting everything you have ever felt for him pour into the kiss. He holds you close, wrapping his arms around you as his tongue moves to brush against yours. The kiss quickly deepens and you feel his fingers beginning to dig into your skin soft harshly, but it only makes you want him more. You whimper as the passion intensifies and you feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest. You can’t get close enough to him for your liking, It’s almost like you want to be a part of him. 

“Please,” you moan against Stiles’ lips as he pulls your hips tighter against his.

The rigid length of his thick cock settles between your thighs, and you can’t help but whimper as you experimentally roll your hips over him.

“Don’t, Sadie.” Stiles demands, his eyes glowing purple once more, only this time the colour doesn’t leave his eyes and you quickly stop your movements.

Stiles tightly grips your ass now in both hands and his fingers dig into your bare skin. You cup his cheeks and watch him closely as you tell him what you need to. Both of you breathing heavily against each other's lips, then the lust that was thick in the room quickly begins to fade.

“Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry, we should talk.” You sigh regretfully, looking down into your lap as you drop your hands to his chest.

“Hey. Look at me,” Stiles asks you, moving his hands up and gently squeezing your hips.

“I guess I’ve just wanted this for so long, you and me I mean. I never even considered you’d look in my direction.” You look up to meet his eyes, instead you find him chewing on his lower lip. “What?”

“How long?” Stiles asks as his thumbs rub soothing circles into your hips.

“What does that matter?” You ask nervously, looking at the wall behind him, too afraid to meet his eyes.

“I’m just interested. I never noticed anything, you never said anything.” 

“Come on, Stiles. You’re my big brother’s best friend. I’m just some huge cliche. Not to mention the fact that you’ve been in love with Lydia for so many years. I accepted a long time ago that I never stood a chance. Maybe this thing between us will just fizzle out soo-”

Stiles cuts you off when his lips meet yours, you squeeze your eyes shut as a tear rolls down your cheek. You wrap yourself around him tighter, doing your best to hold onto whatever this is for as long as possible. Stiles threads his fingers through your hair as he attempts to pull you closer. Both clinging to each other as you pour everything you have into a kiss once again, too worried this will be your last. Stiles pulls away slowly, giving your lips a final soft peck.

“I might not know everything about us just yet, but don’t say that we’re temporary. I’d never do that, not to you. I don’t want you ever even thinking that ever again. This is exactly why I said we needed to talk.”

You sigh and rest your forehead against his, “okay, so talk.”

“Okay. So I guess we should start from the beginning. Back when Scott turned eighteen he started having these urges. They were so intense and he really struggled to stop himself from taking every opportunity to be with Alison. When I say be with Alison I mean like be with her,”

“Okay, eww. Stop with the visuals I get it.”

Stiles clears his throat, failing miserably to hide his laugh before continuing. “Anyway, it didn’t matter where they were or who they were with, they couldn’t stop themselves. Frankly I almost threw up on several occasions, frankly I’m surprised that you didn’t notice. Anyway, it only got worse, he started getting visions, he was unbelievably possessive and protective of her and anyone who was around her got the brunt of it, specifically men.” Stiles gives you a sheepish smile as he pulls back to look at you.

“Okay, so some of this sounds familiar…” you trail off, admiring the way he looks in that moment.

“Right, I’m getting to that. So, when Alison started acting out, feeling things that were far from the usual, experiencing not only her emotions but Scott’s as well, amongst a bunch of other things you’ll probably soon notice with us, he went to Deaton for help. Scott asked Deaton if he knew what the hell was going on with him and with Allison, especially since she wasn’t a wolf. As it turns out the good doctor had some idea, he’d been doing some more research into the whole true Alpha thing, while the research is limited, for obvious reasons, it did mention something about the true Alpha and their pack having mates. Where regular werewolves aren’t heard to have mates specifically, Scott is different, and by extension so is anyone in his pack. More specifically the wolves he has turned will be the ones more likely to be affected.” You can almost feel his excitement the more he talks, and his grip on you tightens.

You gently pry his hands off of you, doing your best to ignore the hurt look that crosses his face when you climb off of his lap, moving to sit beside him instead.

You’re pretty sure that you’re starting to connect the dots, as much as you want to listen, you can’t deny that you’re becoming increasingly nervous the more that he talks.

“Please, don’t run. Not again. I know this is alot to take in, but…” you cut him off with a shake of your head.

“I’m not gonna run, Stiles. This is just a lot, and it only confirms everything I was worried about to begin with.” You sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. Stiles carefully and hesitantly wraps an arm around your waist and tries to pull you closer.

You can’t deny the comfort you feel being close to him, his skin touching yours only adds to everything you feel.

“Okay. It’s your turn to talk, what exactly is it that you’re worried about?” Stiles asks, turning your face so that you’re looking at him. 

You feel a tear roll down your cheek as soon as your eyes clash with his, “let’s be honest here, Stiles. If it wasn’t for this whole mate bond thing, would you have even looked at me twice, in a way that wasn’t like I was your sister? Can you honestly tell me that anything would have changed between us if Scott hadn’t been forced to bite you that day?”

Your heart hammers painfully in your chest as you watch him, you can see the unease written all over his face. However, that only serves to prove your point and that just breaks your heart that much more.

“It doesn’t matter how things used to be, Mini, things damn well change. And we don’t know what would’ve happened. Please, don’t talk like this. It feels like you’re saying goodbye before anything even has a chance to start between us.” Cupping your face he wipes your tears away carefully. “Please, stop crying.” 

“Well we don’t know that now do we!?” You can’t keep your voice down, there are too many emotions swirling inside you uncontrollably. 

You jump off of the bed and start pacing your room, fully aware that Stiles is yet to take his eyes off of you. Hearing you bed creek you turn to face the movement, watching as he slowly walks towards you.

“Goddamit Sadie! Just stop. I get that you don’t understand how any of this works, well neither do I, not really! Not first hand! I understand that you don’t see that I could go from not seeing you the way I do now, seemingly out of nowhere. But it was like a bolt of lightning hit me the second I saw you tonight. I laid eyes on you and everything made sense, I know that you don’t completely understand, but surely you feel it?”

“Of course I feel it! I’ve felt it for the last decade of my life! My feelings didn’t just appear overnight! They only got stronger. And It fucking hurts, Stiles!” 

“Then why can’t we give this thing a go! Just let me try, please! You don’t know what this mate bond means. At least let me explain that. If you don’t want to talk to me, then ask your brother or Allison, I’m trying here okay! Just tell me what I can do?” Stiles begs, stilling your pacing when he gently takes you by the arms.

“I want to talk to you about this, whatever this is… I just don’t know what to make of all of it.”

Running your hands through your hair you inwardly groan knowing what you’re about to say. 

“But first I need to ask you something, and I want only honest answers. Even if it means that I won't like what you say, because I need to know that I can trust you. Especially If we do go through whatever needs to be done to complete this mate bond.”

“How do you know you need to do something to complete the bond?” Stiles asks, a slight grin kicking up the corner of his lips.

“Stiles,” you sigh, folding your arms across your chest.

“Okay, sorry. Go ahead, I promise I’ll be honest whatever that means for us, I won’t lie.” He looks nervous, but there’s a determination you can see written all over his face. 

“Do you still have feelings for Lydia?” Your voice remains even and steady, no matter how much you’re dreading the answer to that question. One thing you’re sure of though is that you can read Stiles like a book, always have been able to. Or maybe he just wasn't a very good liar, you just hoped he hadn’t honed that particular skill while working with the FBI.

Stiles smiles at you and shakes his head. 

“Honestly, no I don’t, at least not in the same way that I used to. A few years back Lydia talked to me about it, the guys had been joking with me about it, she overhead and pulled me to one side. We talked for a while and I realised my feelings weren’t the same as they used to be, sure I still love her, but only in the same way that I love Allison, that’s it.” He takes your hand and places it over his heart. His heartbeat remains steady and controlled, and his eyes stay locked with yours.

You’re so shocked that you just stare at him for a full minute with your mouth open, but then he begins to look a little too smug so you decide to speak.

“So, let’s say I believe you. Did Deaton say Scott and Allison needed to do something to complete the mating bond? Or was it just a sure thing the minute Scott turned eighteen?” you ramble, fully aware these questions are practically spilling from your mouth.

“I’m guessing you’re using your brother and Allison to try and distance yourself from this. I’ll play along with it.” Stiles agrees reluctantly, and you hate that you have to use your brother and his girlfriend as cover, but you need to distance yourself from the situation a little. 

“Deaton’s research indicated that a lot of the myths and stories around werewolves aren't so crazy. As it turns out there’s actually a lot of truth behind them. A werewolves mate is its other half, almost like a soulmate. So when they finally find each other it’s usually instinctual to mark each other. Obviously, like I said, Scott is different. Mates haven’t been mentioned in decades amongst wolves, not until now. So far It’s only been Scott and our pack that we know of, but still, it also means that not both halves are always wolves. Like with Scott and Allison, and you and me.” Silence surrounds the pair of you as you stare at him, he smiles and tucks a finger under your chin to close your mouth. 

You frown when Stiles’ smile suddenly drops, and he seems to be contemplating telling you something. However, then you hear him sigh and he screws his eyes shut. When he does open them you see his nervousness and worry staring back at you.

“I should also tell you something else. Something I wish so badly I could lie to you about, because right now I’m terrified you’ll want to choose this option. But I meant what I said, I won’t force you into this, and definitely not without all of the information.” 

“Okay. I’m listening. But don’t be so sure I’ll take the easy route.” You smile, trying to reassure him somehow.

Stiles seems to ignore your words, and the worry doesn’t lift from his face as he scrubs a hand over it before speaking.

“You can refuse to be my mate. You can reject me and I can reject you. We also both have the option to refuse or accept the rejection. But I promise you here and now that if you chose to reject me I would accept it. If that was what you wanted, I won’t stop you. But I will NEVER reject you. I need you to understand that whatever happens, It won't be me rejecting you.”

“Is it painful? To reject someone I mean? How would we even do that?” you ask with confusion lacing your tone. 

Stiles winces as at your reply and looks down at his hands, which he quickly tucks in his pockets.

“If that’s what you want to do, I understand. But the selfish part of me can’t explain to you how to do it. So you’ll need to get Deaton to explain it properly, I wouldn’t want you to mess it up, not if you truly wanted to do it. But yes, it is. It’s apparently the worst pain a wolf can experience.”

“And you’d do that? For me?” you ask in disbelief stepping closer.

“I’d fucking die for you Sades. What’s a bit of pain?” 

Your heart practically breaks at that statement, the look on his face alone could shatter you right then and there, so you decide to try and change the subject. Especially since you have no intention of rejecting him either.

“Wow this is a lot,” you half laugh in disbelief, running a nervous hand through your hair.

“As soon as I caught your scent, my mouth watered and I knew instantly what you were to me, even before I knew who you were. Then I saw you, and that need to make you mine was so insistent and constant that I felt it everywhere. But I wouldn’t ever do that to you, not without you having full knowledge of the situation. I was doing okay at keeping my cool, but then we kissed and I lost it.” 

“Has Scott marked Allison?” you ask swallowing thickly when you don’t find yourself completely against the idea.

“Sure has, right here,” he rasps as he trails his finger along your collarbone. 

“Scott wanted it where everyone could see it.” 

He licks his lips as your heart rate increases, you take a step back as he advances on you, until your back hits the wall.

You clear your throat as you look into his eyes once more, “have you thought about where you would mark me, if we did go ahead with this whole mating thing?” 

“You little Minx are playing with fire right now. But since we’re being honest, I haven’t thought about much else. So don’t tease me.” 

“C’mon! Tell me, please,” you whisper, unintentionally leaning into his touch. 

Stiles chews on his bottom lip thoughtfully, you can feel his eyes roam across any uncovered skin, almost like it burns under his gaze. He hums thoughtfully as he traces several places with his fingers. He starts by tracing the line between your neck and shoulder, before he slowly moves down, lingering on the curve of your breast a little longer than necessary and your heart rate speeds up as he makes his way down your body. His eyes saying everything that his mouth won't.

“So many perfect places,” he mumbles, moving next to trace the line of your hip where your t-shirt has ridden up, lastly he moves between your thighs, tracing along your inner thigh keeping his touch high. He’s so close to your pussy that you can feel an intense heat beginning to overtake you when his fingers dig into your skin.

“Guess it depends just how badly I want people to know who you belong to, doesn’t it? Or If I want it somewhere only I can see.”

You're speechless as you tremble with need in front of him, the need to have him inside you is almost overwhelming. You would do anything to please him right now, you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything. Stiles’ deep chuckle catches you by surprise as he leans in, inhaling deeply.

“I can smell your need, mate. You’re wet for me again, aren’t you?” he rumbles as he nuzzles into your neck. You’re fully aware it’s a statement not a question.

“That werewolf nose of yours is gonna be a real big pain in my ass, Stilinski,” you giggle as his breath tickles your skin.

He pulls back to grin at you again. “How about you? Where would you want my mark? I know you’re thinking about it, my little minx.”

Licking your lips you slip out from in between Stiles and the wall keeping your eyes on him. “Well, I could tell you the answer to that. But I think we’ve talked enough.” 

You slowly slip your shirt over your head and Stiles’ rumbling growl fills the room. He steps forward and you step back another step, slowly letting your shorts drop, leaving you in your underwear.

“I think It’s only fair if we get a good, long, hard look at each other. You know, for research.”

Stiles doesn’t speak and his eyes haven't moved from your body. He quickly pulls off the black t-shirt he’s wearing, and you have to hold your breath at the sight in front of you. If you’d thought he was ripped before, dear lord were you in for a surprise. He has a six pack you could only dream of and he looks like he could throw you around the bedroom with those arms. That deep V at his hips has you itching to run your tongue along it.

You swallow thickly as he smirks at you, and those purple eyes return, only showing you that his emotions have some control over their colour. 

“Well damn, you certainly healed up. Real fucking nicely.” You groan, licking your lips as he dips his thumbs into the waistband of his track pants, exposing more of that V.

“Glad you approve, Minx.” He grins, letting his pants drop to the floor, leaving him in his boxers.

“I’ve never been happier to be part of research. Because you look good enough to eat.”

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