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pulisicsgirl · 1 year

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dad to the rescue - christian pulisic

summary: when Y/N and Christian's daughter is frightened of the doctor, Christian comes to the rescue to calm her fears

pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader

word count: 2.0k

warnings/tags: descriptions of a doctor's office, needles/injections, anxiety, lots and lots of fluff

requested: no

notes: Hey y'all! I've been feeling pretty uninspired recently, but I have more time to right now that school is out. So I decided to rewrite this old fic that I wrote several years ago for another fandom to try to get the creativity flowing! So if you read a fic similar to this for someone else years ago, no you didn't. It's definitely not my favorite thing that I've written, but hopefully, it'll get the ball rolling!

“Mommy, I don’t like the doctor. It’s scary,” Lily whimpered as you helped her climb out of her car seat and onto the pavement.

You glanced nervously over at Christian, pleading silently for his help. You were naturally a nervous person—a trait that was dialed up to 11 when it came to your daughter. You were just as terrified, if not more so, than your daughter for this visit. Knowing that she was scheduled to receive an injection, you had convinced Christian to take the day to leave training early and accompany the two of you to the appointment—he always knew how to help in these situations.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. You’ve got Mommy and Daddy here with you, and…” He trailed off, squatting down so that he was on her level, and he loudly whispered, “I hear they have toys in the waiting room!”

Lily’s face brightened instantly at his words. “D’you want to go find out?” he asked her excitedly, and Lily nodded her head quickly. Christian sprung to his feet, and the two of them raced to the door, hand-in-hand, squealing giddily as I watched them with a huge smile spreading across my face.

Christian pulled open one of the doors, letting Layla speed through and waiting behind to hold it open for me to walk through. He gestured for you to pass, muttering a short, “m’lady,” as you walked through, causing you to giggle and roll your eyes at him.

Lily was inside, trying her hardest to pull open the second set of doors, but it was too heavy for her small self. You reached forward, pulling lightly on the door, and she gasped, thinking she had finally gotten the door to budge on her own, before racing through and straight into the waiting room.

Christian followed in behind you, placing a gentle hand on your lower back. You spun around, pulling him toward you with a firm grip on his shirt and planted a long, firm kiss on his lips. When you pulled away, he had a massive grin on his face.

“What was that for?” he asked, still smirking down at you.

“No reason in particular,” you shrugged, holding back a grin of your own.

“Well, whatever I did, I should do it more often,” he leaned down, pecking your lips once again.

You swatted his chest, gently pushing him away. “You have a daughter in there that has been promised toys and playtime, so you better join her. I’ll sign her in,” you said, pointing to the door of the waiting room.

“Yes ma’am,” he retorted with a short salute, and you punched his shoulder. “Okay, okay, I’m going!” He grinned from ear to ear as he quickly joined Lily in the waiting room.

You turned around, heading to the front desk to sign in and receiving a clipboard with paperwork to fill out.

You sat in the waiting room, occupying your time by filling out the papers and occasionally glancing up to watch your husband and daughter playing enthusiastically with the toy cars. You couldn't help but smile as Christian made motor noises and loud honking sounds with his mouth as he wheeled the cars across the playmat toward Lily.

Before long, a nurse came to the door, sweetly calling out, “Lilian Pulisic?” even though the three of you were the only ones there.

“That’s us!” Christian smiled, standing from the floor and taking Lily’s hand, sensing that her nerves had quickly returned with the appearance of the nurse. As he led her over to the nurse, the fear was back on her face as she clung tightly to his arm, but she seemed to be slightly more confident as she walked with him.

The nurse weighed her and measured her height. Lily jumped up and down when the nurse told her that she’d grown 3 inches in the last year. After taking a few more measurements, the nurse led your little family into a small exam room and let you know that the doctor would be there soon.

You and Christian sat down in the chairs as you watched Lily wander the room, pointing out the various animals painted along the walls of the room. You pulled Christian’s hand into your lap, intertwining your fingers with his and gripping it tightly. Your worry for your daughter had quickly returned as you sat down in the hard, plastic chairs, and Christian sensed this, beginning to run his thumb over the back of your hand in an effort to soothe you.

A few minutes later, a young female doctor walked in, stethoscope hanging around her neck and computer in hand. Christian lifted Lily to sit on the exam table before settling back into his seat next to you.

“Hello there! You must be Lilian!” the doctor greeted warmly. “Do you go by Lilian?”

Lily remained silent, glancing nervously over at you with wide eyes.

“Go on, it’s okay,” Christian encouraged her softly.

She looked back at the doctor, replying with a quiet, “My name’s Lily.”

“Oh wow! Your name is so beautiful!” the doctor said excitedly, and a small smile appeared on Lily’s face. “Well, my name is Dr. Jones, but you can call me Anna.” Lily giggled and you could tell that she was already warming up to the doctor.

The appointment continued normally and Lily grew confident enough to answer most of the questions on her own, which caused your heart to swell with pride. Anna only turned to you and Christian to get more precise answers about Lily’s eating and sleeping habits.

Anna listened to her heart, took her blood pressure, and checked over every part of Lily’s body, from her head to her toes. Lily laughed especially hard when Anna looked in her ears (she told you between giggles that it tickles) and when she used the mallet on Lily’s leg to check her reflexes.

“Alright, we’ve just got one more thing to do and then you can go home!” Anna said as the appointment seemed to be coming to its end. “I see we’re scheduled for a vaccine today?” she asked, glancing at you and Christian for confirmation.

“Alright, so what we’re gonna do, is we’re gonna give you a little shot right here,” she explained, drawing a small circle on Lily’s left arm. “I know that sounds really scary, but it’ll feel like a little pinch, and then it’ll be over, okay?” Lily seemed a little uncertain, but otherwise fine. Anna left, but not before explaining that the nurse from before would be back in shortly and giving Lily a high five on her way out the door.

Just moments later, the nurse returned, carrying a tray with some alcohol swabs and a needle on it. The moment Lily laid eyes on the tray, she began to panic.

“Mommy, I don’t want a shot,” she cried, the tears quickly welling up in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. You jumped up from your chair as she reached out for you, rushing to her side and hugging her tightly as she cried.

It hurt you to see her this scared. You swallowed the lump in your throat, doing your best to speak softly and calmly to her. “Shh, baby, it’s okay. You heard Dr. Jones! It’s just a small pinch and then it’s over. You can do this!”

Your words seemed to do nothing to calm Lily nerves, and she whimpered, pulling you closer by the fabric of your shirt.

You felt Christian’s hand on your back, telling you that he was standing just behind you. He placed a quick kiss on your cheek, whispering in your ear, “Here, let me.”

You stepped back, watching as Christian sat on the table next to Lily, holding your shaking daughter as she clung tightly to him. He shrugged the jacket he was wearing from his shoulders, pulling the short sleeve of his T-shirt up and over his left shoulder.

“Hey, look here,” he spoke soothingly to Lily, holding out his tattooed arm for her to look at. She slowly looked away from the nurse, who was preparing for the shot. “Tell me all of the things you see on my arm.”

Lily sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve, but her crying seemed to be slowing down now. She ran her small hand along his arm, trying to find something.

“There’s a tiger,” she spoke slowly. Christian turned his arm so that she could see the face of the tiger more clearly.

“Very good!” Christian exclaimed, and a small smile appeared on Lily’s face. “Now try to find something else.” He glanced at you as she continued looking, shooting you a quick smile before returning his attention back to his little girl.

Lily jumped as the nurse wiped her arm with the cold alcohol swab, her focus leaving Christian’s arm as the fear in her eyes returned.

“It’s okay. She’s just cleaning your arm,” Christian explained sweetly. “Keep looking.”

“S-some letters,” she stuttered, pointing at Christian’s wrist. He nodded with a short “mhm.” Her fingers trailed up to Christian’s shoulder. “A bird.” She brushed her fingers across his skin, down the inside of his arm. “And that’s Mike.” A short giggle fell from her lips as she reached the tattoo of the one-eyed, green monster from Monsters Inc., a movie that she had watched many times with her father.

Christian noticed the nurse uncapping the needle, and he moved to point out something else so Lily would remain distracted. He flipped his arm over, pointing to the chess piece on his forearm. “And this here is a chess piece. It’s called the queen.” Lily tapped the inked game piece with her fingers, clueless to the movements of the nurse next to her.

As the nurse put the needle in her arm, Lily whimpered quietly. She gripped Christian’s arm tightly in her small fingers, clamping her eyes shut as she let out a small cry.

But the shot was over as quickly as it had started.

“It’s over,” Christian spoke to her, kissing the top of her head while she still held tightly to his arm. Lily looked up at his face, and Christian's heart tightened a little as he wiped the tear streaks away with his thumb. “You’re okay, sweetie. We’re all done.”

The nurse put a bandage on Lily’s shoulder as Christian slipped his arms back into his jacket.

Soon enough, we were dismissed from the room, and Lily reached out for Christian to pick her up. She lifted her arms into the air toward him, wiggling her fingers with droopy eyes—clearly exhausted from the whole ordeal. She was barely awake enough in his arms to pick out a sticker before dropping her head onto his shoulder as you signed her out.

The three of you walked out the front doors of the office and to the car. Christian carefully shuffled the small girl out of his arms and into her car seat as you held the door open. Lily had managed to fall fast asleep in the time it took to reach the car.

You closed the door gently, attempting to keep from waking her up. You softly pushed Christian into the side of the car, resting your hands on both of his cheeks as you planted a firm kiss to his lips.

When you pulled back, Christian had a confused but pleased grin on his face.

“You’re incredible. You know that?” you asked as you felt his arms snake around your waist, pulling you further into his body.

“You really think so?”

You nodded in response. “You have such a way with her. I would’ve absolutely been freaking out along with her.”

He quickly kissed you again, a mischievous smile on his lips. “You know,” he started slowly, his smile only growing as he spoke. “We could always have another one.”

“Now you’re getting ahead of yourself, Pulisic,” you laughed, pulling away from him and beginning to walk around the car to get in on the passenger side. He reached to try to slap your butt as you walked away, but you jumped out of the way, dodging his hand and causing both of you to giggle as you ran around the car.

You heard him call from the other side of the vehicle. “You didn’t say no!”

tag list: @masonspulisic @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @notsoattractivearenti

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fics #footballer fic #footballer fics #footballer imagine #footballer imagines #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic blurb

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ev3rgreenxtrees · 4 months

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,,Tattoo’’- C.S.

back to masterlist

synopsis: Chris and his girlfriend, Evelyn, are dared by Chris’ brothers Matt and Chris to get ‘matching’ tattoos, as punishment for loosing a challenge for their video.

pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Evelyn (she/her)

warnings: cussing, dirty jokes, suggestive content, getting a tattoo.

“No fucking way we lost ALL of those!” Chris’ jaw drops as he looks at his girlfriend, Evelyn, in shock.

“Well, you did! So now we get to choose your punishment!” Nick said, letting out a fake evil laugh.

They were in teams for a youtube video, Matt and his girlfriend- Layla- and Nick with Larray.

“Bitchhh i just got an idea!!” Larray giggled as he pulled all four of them in a huddle, Chris and Evelyn giving each other worried looks.

The couple heard a few giggles from the group, before they broke apart.

“Okay, so,” Layla started. “you have two options. one, you get ‘matching’ tattoos. they could be something small and simple, or something that doesn’t even really go together- like a sun and a moon. that way, the tattoos even work by themself. two, you guys take us all on a all expenses paid trip to the Bahamas AND a cruise. Meaning, you’d pay for the plane tickets, hotel rooms, food, cruise tickets, everything.” Layla smirked. “So, which is it?” she asked.

“what! thats not fair!” chris pouted. the boy had money, but he sure as hell doesn’t want to waste it all on a trip. He also has no tattoos, and being honest, he didnt really have any desire to get one.

“yes it is! you lost bitch!” Larray laughed, and Chris groaned.

Evelyn already had a few tattoos, like Matt, Nick, and Larray, so she was definitely leaning more towards the tattoo option.

“Chris, how ‘bout we just do the tattoo? something badass, or small; so you wont regret it? Its WAY cheaper than a trip to the Bahamas alone.” Chris rolled his eyes.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” he shook his head, and the group cheered.

“well, there you have it! Chris and Ev will be getting tattoos! maybe that will be next weeks vlog. Hell, maybe even me and Matt will get one.” Nick shrugged.

“YOU REALLY WANNA GET MATCHING TATTOOS?!” Evelyn yelled, grabbing Chris’ arm in excitement.

“Yeah, yeah.. i guess. i swear though, im not doing anything stupid. no cringey shit.” Chris fake gagged, and Evelyn rolled her eyes.

“oh, shut up you big baby. Ill go look for some ideas! Layla, Larray, come with me!” Evelyn rushed off to somewhere else in the house, Larray and Layla following close behind.

“hey! im gay too y’know!” Nick called out after them, but shrugged and walked over to the camera.

“fuck.” Chris grumbled as he sat on the couch.

“whats up?” Matt asked his younger brother as he sat next to him.

“what do you thinks up, matt. I have to get a tattoo,” Chris sighed. “man, that shits gonna hurt so bad, and i really dont wanna do it.” Chris whined, putting his head in his hands. Being honest, the pain was the least of his worries. What if Evelyn ever dumps him? Every time he would look at the tattoo, he’d be reminded of her. But he couldn’t say that.

“hey, its no big deal.” Matt reassured his brother, placing his hand on his back. “They dont hurt bad, i promise. Ev won’t pick anything you wont like, and i doubt she’d pick something big, so you wont have to be there for long. and hey, we can make the appointment, and if you really dont wanna do this, we can cancel it. i dont think the fans will be upset.” Matt nodded, and chris sat up.

“yeah, your right. ill be okay. thanks, matt.” Chris nodded up at his brother, who flashed him a smile and walked over to Nick with the camera.

Chris heard his and Matt’s girlfriends squealing, and Larry chuckling. God, Evelyn warmed his heart so much. He wouldn’t say it, but he loves her. They’ve been dating for only a few months, maybe five or six, and Matt and Layla have been dating for around seven or eight months.

“Chris!” The brown haired boy heard his girlfriend yell, as the three of them bursted out of the hallway.

“hm?” Chris looked up at her.

“Whats wrong, baby?” Her smile quickly faded and her eyebrows furrowed, as she sat next to him. She placed her hand on his leg, and he looked at her.

He made eye contact with her, and leaned in for a small kiss.

“Oh. Was that all, silly?” Evelyn giggled. Chris shook his head and wrapped both arms around Evelyn, as he pulled her into him.

“your my everything,” he spoke. “I think i love you, Ev..” he looked at the girl who’s head was on his chest.

“really..?” she asked, as chris held his breath. He nodded. “Oh my god, chris!! I love you too!” she laughed and pulled him into a loving kiss. Their lips moved in sync before Chris pulled away.

“I’m glad,” he smiled, his face red, as he placed his forehead against Evelyn’s.

The whole house cheered and laughed, congratulating the two as if they just got proposed.

“See, Ev! I told you!” Layla jumped, rushing over to give her best friend a hug.

“Yeah, yeah!” Evelyn rolled her eyes and got off of her boyfriend.

“Proud of you, man.” Matt nodded at his younger brother, as they did their ‘secret’ handshake.

“thanks.” Chris smiled, and Evelyn whipped back around.

“Wait! I forgot to show you the tattoo!” Evelyn quickly sat back down beside Chris, as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “What do you think about these ones?” She asked, showing him her phone.

The image was of spiders, seemingly black widows.

“holy fuck! Those are dope!” Chris laughed, grabbing the phone to show nick and matt, who were standing behind the couch.

“Thats sick!” Nick laughed, pointing at the phone.

“See, man, told ya she wouldn’t pick somethin’ ya didn’t like.” Matt shrugged, and Chris glared at him.

-A WEEK LATER-

“ready?” the tattooist asked as she held the needle close to a worried Chris, his girlfriends’ hand in his. She had already gotten hers done, along with the rest of the group getting tiny ones, Chris being the last one left.

“mhm,” he nodded, as he felt the needle touch his skin. “ow ow ow-“ he squeezed Evelyn’s hand, as she kissed it gently.

“you’re doing great, baby.” She reassured him, as nick held the camera aiming at him.

“mhm..” he grunted.

“bet thats what he sounds like in bed,” Larray joked, as Chris and Evelyn gasped.

“Larray!” Evelyn yelled, and everyone, besides chris, laughed. He found it funny as fuck, he was just too occupied by the needle poking in and out of his skin.

About twenty minutes into the tattoo, chris spoke up again.

“it doesn’t hurt bad anymore,” he sighed, as he slowly let go of Evelyn’s hand. Matt and Layla were talking, and Nick and Larray were, so Evelyn just patiently waited by her boyfriends side.

“see?” Evelyn joked, and chris mocked her.

“yeah, yeah. whatever.” he scolded.

The group waited for around an hour, and Chris’ tattoo was finally done.

He slowly stood up, and admired it in the mirror.

“This looks sick as fuck,” he smiled, pulling Evelyn by his side so he could see the matching tattoos.

He pulled out his phone, and snapped a picture.

“this ones’ goin on the photo dump,” he said as he gently kissed Evelyn’s shoulder.

@bernardenjoyer

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #fanfic #tattoos

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winniethewife · 23 days

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I call you when I need you, my heart's on fire (Marc Spector x F!reader)

Prompt: Heatwave

Words: 1080

It was a record high heatwave that summer. There had been a few power outages city wide. Marc was half way done with a movie one night when the whole flat went dark.

“Fuck, Not again” He grumbles before standing up. He stretches and looks around, trying to figure out what he was going to do with his time waiting for the power to comeback on, just then Stevens Cell rings. Marc was slightly startled but as he picks it up notices the caller ID. “My Dove” he presses the green button to accept the call.

“Hey.” He keeps it cool, She was Steven’s girl, not his, He wasn’t sure he was ready to be in a relationship again, after letting go of Layla? He just wasn’t there yet.

“Oh! Hey Marc, Um…I could use some company do you think…you could come over?” She sounded freaked out, Marc looks in the nearest reflective surface searching for input from his alter but finds only himself staring back.

“Uh. I don’t know, Steven seems to be MIA at the moment.” He says with slight annoyance. Of course just when the Brit is needed is when he decides to disappear. She lets out a shakey sigh, Marc’s ears prick up at the sound, the familiar twinge of anxiety in her voice. “You okay?”

“N-Not exactly, um… I’m sorry I just…Is there any chance you can come over anyway I…I don’t want to be alone right now… with the power cut…” Her voice starts to crack slightly as she starts tearing up, these sorts of situations always gave her the worst anxiety attacks. Marc doesn’t let her finish her thought.

“I’m on my way. Just hang on for me. Okay?” He wouldn’t admit to himself how much he had grown to care for her but he was quickly throwing on a pair of sneakers and grabbing his things to leave with out a second thought.

“Thank you Marc I really appreciate it.” She hangs up the phone. She starts to pace her flat, the heat was nearly unbearable. She had every window in the place open, she wasn’t sure if it was helping or making it worse. It seemed to take forever and at the same time no time at all for Marc to show up at her door. When she opened the door, Marc quickly flushed bright red as in the light of his torch she is revealed to be in a tank top and short shorts, damp with sweat. She smiles at him oblivious to the situation he was in, deciding to give him a quick hug. “Thank you for coming.”

“No problem.” He quickly comes in to the flat, swallowing a lump in his throat as he looks around. He wipes the sweat from his brow as she walks with him to the living room. They both sit awkwardly apart from each other, when she suddenly looks up.

“OH shit!” She stands up quickly and heads for the kitchen, Marc follows behind her to find her opening the freezer and taking out two large tubs of ice cream. “My niece’s birthday party is tomorrow and I was supposed to bring these, but they’re going to go bad before then.” She puts them down on the counter and looks at him with a small smile. Marc breaks down laughing.

“Christ, with the way you reacted I thought something bad happened.” He manages to get out while laughing as he leaned on the counter, she started laughing along with him.

“Oh my Gods, I’m so sorry! I just realized…Oh that’s too funny.” She was giggling so hard she had a hard time standing up. After a few minutes of their unstoppable laughter she got out two spoons and they went to town on the ice cream. They started talking about whatever came to mind. Her family, the book series she was reading, how bad this heat wave was.

“I know I would rather be back in the US right now, at least we have AC.” Marc says before shoving another spoon full of slightly melted Ice cream in his house.

“Well, I’m glad you are here, I wouldn’t have met you if you were still in the states.” She comments as she slightly blushed.

“You mean you wouldn’t have met Steven.” He says with a smirk

“No, I mean yes, him too but…I meant you.” She softly answers. Marc stops, this was not a conversation he was sure he should have. She continues “Marc, I know why you won’t open up to me, I know…you might not be ready but…I can’t help it, the mornings I wake up when Steven has spent the night and you’re there, the way you hold me, the way you fixed my washing machine when it was broken, the way you care about Steven, I couldn’t help but fall for you, I’ve fallen in lo-” She couldn’t finish her sentence as his lip were on hers, taking her in his arms as his lips moved against hers, hungry, wanting, no needing to be close to her. The way he had moved so quickly to her and held her so close, it was so natural, so normal, It felt right. Her hands on his chest as she presses into him, their lips dancing together in sync, his large hands gripping her hips. He feels like he can’t let go, that the moment he pulls away she will vanish. As the passion heats up, so does the temperature, and it is quickly too much to bare, she pulls away and looks up at him. In the darkness she still manages to fins his eyes. Marc couldn’t find the words, he wasn’t sure how to follow up that moment. His head was spinning, he wanted to be hers, he wanted…so much more than he ever let himself have. She opened her mouth to say something and just then the lights flicker back on. They both wince from the sudden bright light in their eyes. As they take a moment to adjust Marc finally speaks up.

“I want the same thing. I’m Sorry I didn’t admit it sooner.” He looks into her eyes, his brow furrowed.

“Don’t apologize! It’s okay, you needed time and I’m more than willing to wait.” She smiles at him, reaching up to touch his face, he leans into the touch.

“I just hope it’s worth the wait.”

Bingo Masterlist

Tag: @moonknight-events @juneknight @spacecowboyhotch @silvernight-m

#moon knight #marc spector #x reader #marc spector x reader #moonknightevents #moon boys #moon knight x reader #Spotify #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #female reader

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anonymousewrites · 1 month

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Burden of Truth (Book 1) Chapter Six

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Chapter Five: Against the Jackal

Summary: (Y/N) and Marc arrive in Cairo and begin their search for Harrow.

(Y/N) was exhausted from traveling, but they had finally arrived in Cairo. They knew that as soon as possible they’d need to start investigating where Ammit’s tomb may be, but they just wanted to fall asleep for a hundred years. Having never been in such a physical fight, (Y/N) really needed to rest, but on the plane ride over, they had forced themself to stay awake in case any of Harrow’s people appeared to attack them.

“(Y/N)?”

The teen turned from where they were waiting on a cab to see Marc. “Oh. Hi.”

“Are you going to a hotel on your own?” asked Marc.

“Yes,” said (Y/N).

Marc furrowed his brow and made a quick decision. “Follow me.”

“…Are you sure?” asked (Y/N).

“Come on, kid,” said Marc.

(Y/N) hesitated. Marc was intimidating, and after they’d seen what he’d done to those archaeologists, (Y/N) wasn’t sure how close to him they should get. But at the same time, he’d protected them from the jackal. He’d wanted them to be left out of Harrow’s danger.

(Y/N) gave a short nod. They’d take a leap and trust him. A little.

“This is where I’m staying,” said Marc. “I’ve been here before. We’ll be safe enough.”

“It’s nice,” said (Y/N).

Marc gave a mirthless laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“It is. I stay at the cheapest places possible,” said (Y/N).

“That’s not safe,” said Marc.

“I’m alive,” said (Y/N).

Marc frowned. “That’s a terrible measure.”

“It is?”

Marc sighed. He had thought his position as an Avatar had caused him issues, and now this kid came along just as lost. “Yeah, kid. It is.” He picked up the phone. “I’m ordering food. What do you want?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Seriously, kid, just tell me,” said Marc.

“I was being serious,” said (Y/N) quietly.

“No one’s ever serious about that. They just lie to not seem pushy.” And if Marc knew one thing, that kid looked like someone to keep their problems to themself because gods weren’t exactly the most sympathetic.

“I’m not lying.”

Marc sighed. “Kid, I’m really too tired for this.”

“I can’t lie!” said (Y/N) quickly, pushing out the words.

They looked down and shifted awkwardly. They hadn’t told anyone that after their parents died. Only Ma’at knew, and it had brought Ma’at to them.

You…what?” said Marc.

“I can’t lie,” repeated (Y/N). “I just can’t.”

“Does Ma’at not allow you to?” It is definitely the sort of thing one of these shit gods would have their Avatar do.

“No, I never could, even before Ma’at,” said (Y/N). “I can’t tell a lie.”

“That’s…unhelpful as a thief,” said Marc, brow creasing. It was yet another example of Ma’at putting a child—already an issue—into further danger because they wouldn’t be able to get themself out of trouble.

“It’s not all bad,” said (Y/N), shrugging and rubbing their arm. “I can tell when someone’s lying or telling the truth. That’s helpful.”

Marc sighed and backed off. He wasn’t going to press (Y/N), not when they were so clearly uncomfortable. He knew all-too-well how damaging the stress adults could inflict on kids.

“Alright. So you don’t care what we eat?” said Marc, going to a safer subject.

(Y/N) shook their head. “I’ll eat anything. I just want to eat and sleep.”

“We can agree on that,” said Marc. He wasn’t sure how to approach working with or even dealing with the teen, but he knew they both needed rest before they stopped Harrow.

Whatever it took.

(Y/N) and Marc ran across the roofs of Cairo, anxious to reach the one follower of Harrow that was ready to give up where he was. Unfortunately, the moment they pulled themselves onto the roof, two other men were stabbing him, and a third was keeping watch.

“Oh, shit. You killed him?” said Marc. “We needed to talk to that guy. About a dig site. Guess we’re gonna have to talk with you instead.”

“You’re two late,” said one man. “You’re never gonna find Harrow.”

“Really? Kid, what do you think the truth of that statement is?” asked Marc.

(Y/N) shrugged. “It’s opinion, but I think we’ll find him.”

The man took out his knife and flipped it around, showing off his skills.

Marc watched him and moved between him and (Y/N). “Oh. What, are we dancin’? We fightin’? What are we gonna do?”

The first man leapt to the side, and the second attacked Marc. He blocked them and threw them into the wall while kicking another back. The third, a teenager, ran up to attack (Y/N), and they jumped back, dodging his knife attacks. Marc grabbed him and forced him to his knees. He raised his fist to punch the younger boy, but when he flinched, Marc relaxed and just struck him with his palm.

(Y/N) blinked as they saw it. Something about it made them feel…safer around Marc. They’d seen what he was capable of, and to know that he knew when to held back meant (Y/N) could feel alright near him. (Which was strange in itself since (Y/N) never had an adult to trust after their parents)

Another man came at them with his knife, and (Y/N) dodged, scrambling onto another section of the roof. The man slashed at them, but (Y/N) kicked him back into Marc’s waiting arms to disarm him.

The teenage boy grabbed the knife as it fell to the ground and spat at Marc in Arabic, “in your face, foreigners!”

He threw the knife at Marc’s face, and it barely missed. By this point, the first man had gotten back up, too, and it was three versus two again. The first licked his knife dramatically. Marc punched him before he could try anything. As he slumped backwards, the second man grabbed Marc and pulled him away. (Y/N) leapt onto his back and struck his head over-and-over until he let go and fell to the ground. (Y/N) stood between the teenage boy and Marc, panting but refusing to give up. Marc had helped them, and they weren’t going to let that go unrepaid.

The teenager attacked (Y/N), and they blocked, hissing as the blade cut through the outside of their forearm. Still, they didn’t let up and kicked the boy back. Marc quickly got up and tripped him, effectively taking him down without causing much harm.

The second man stabbed at (Y/N), and they rolled to the side to dodge, but he advanced again. Marc grabbed him and fought him back, pinning him to a wall and pushing his knife against his throat.

“Marc. Stop it,” said Steven softly, afraid, from the reflection of the knife.

Marc paused, and (Y/N) watched, glancing between him, the teenager, and the man he had trapped.

“Marc?” asked (Y/N).

Marc slammed the man’s head against the wall. “Where’s Harrow?” he hissed. He slammed his head against the stone again to make a bone.

(Y/N) frowned and took a step back. Not Marc? The accent was all wrong, but (Y/N) wasn’t sure what to do. This felt stranger than Steven and Marc.

“I-I don’t—” the man coughed, his airway constricted. “I-I won’t—”

Not(?) Marc smashed his head against the stone and let him slump to the ground. “Inútil.”

Useless, translated (Y/N)’s mind.

Not(?) Marc tossed the man to the side and turned away. Without another word, he turned away and walked towards the exit of the roof. He passed (Y/N), paused, and grabbed their wrist, pulling them with him.

(Y/N) had a feeling they shouldn’t fight Not(?) Marc and let themself be pulled down and out onto the street where Not(?) Marc called a cab. He looked around surreptitiously before pushing (Y/N) in first. Then, he slipped in.

“Marc? What’s going on?” asked (Y/N) hesitantly, shifting away from the man beside them slightly.

“Airport,” he said to the cab driver.

“Marc?”

Not(?) Marc groaned, and his eyes rolled back before settling. He looked around in confusion.

“What…?” he trailed off as he saw they were in a cab. “Stop, please!” he said in Arabic to the driver.

“You’re speaking Arabic, eh?” said the driver. “Why are you acting like a foreigner?”

Marc looked at (Y/N). “Where were we going?”

“You said the airport,” said (Y/N) cautiously.

“I—no, I didn’t, I couldn’t…” He paused as he saw the teenage boy and man he’d fought exiting a nearby building. He opened the door of the cab and got out to speak to them. “Let me talk to you.”

The two stepped back nervously.

“Just let us go, man,” said the teenager.

“That wasn’t me!” cried Marc.

The teenager and the man made a run for it, and Marc took off after them.

“My money!” shouted the driver.

(Y/N) pulled out a couple bills, paid, and ran after Marc.

They ended up in a marketplace, and the four continued their game of cat-and-mouse through the people and stalls, heedless of any obstacles in their way. Finally, Marc got his hands on the man and threw him to the ground to slow him down. He grabbed his coat and pushed him against the wall.

He punched him in the stomach, and (Y/N) frowned as they saw it. They had seen terrible things in their life, but they were still getting used to it. They still disliked violence fundamentally, but they knew that when it came to Ammit, it was going to be unavoidable.

“Where’s Harrow?” questioned Marc. “Where’s Harrow? Tell me!”

“Marc,” said (Y/N), and Marc paused. “He’s not going to tell you. We already know that—Ah!”

The first man from the fight on the roof appeared and struck them in the back of the head. (Y/N) stumbled forward, and Marc was distracted long enough to get hit by the man he had pinned, and he fell backwards.

“Marc!”

Marc’s unconscious body suddenly awoke, eyes bright and awake. In an instant, he was upon the men, attacking with reckless abandon. It was far more intense than anything else (Y/N) had seen yet. This was once again not Marc. This was violent, and it scared (Y/N). They took a step back, and the moment Not Marc sunk the man’s knife into his own side, (Y/N) made their decision.

They couldn’t watch this violence.

(Y/N) turned and ran. They ran until they felt safe, until it was quiet, until they had found an alley to curl up in and control their breathing.

I can do this. I can do this. I can handle this, thought (Y/N), tapping their fingers rhythmically.

“What are you doing?”

(Y/N) looked up to find Ma’at standing over them. “I-I can’t do the killing. I can’t.”

“It is your job to see the ugliness of the world so that others may be protected,” said Ma’at.

(Y/N) flinched. “I know. I just-I couldn’t.”

“You will have to learn to handle this,” said Ma’at. “Ammit will not hesitate to kill, and neither will Harrow. You must be prepared.”

“I-I will be. I won’t run away again. I promise,” said (Y/N).

“Good.”

(Y/N) knew Ma’at was gone after she spoke, but the deity’s disappointment in her Avatar remained a burden on (Y/N)’s shoulders whether she was there or not.

Marc looked around in confusion as the man’s body he had stabbed fell to the ground. He had blood on him, and he stood on a cliff overlooking Cairo. It was just him and the men he was fighting. Well, not anymore. The two men were both dead, killing by their own weapon by…Marc?

He shook his head. “What…? Oh, god. Steven, what did you do?”

Steven glared out from the blade. “I swear, that wasn’t me!”

“Then who was it?” said Marc. His eyes widened. “And where’s the kid?” (Y/N) was nowhere to be seen, and an unexpected amount of fear flashed through him.

“I don’t know,” said Steven, shaking his head.

Before Marc could reply, the teenage boy from before moved, still alive. His leg was broken, though, and he could only drag himself back.

Marc swallowed. “Where’s the kid I was with?”

“Ask him about the tomb,” said Khonshu’s voice, and Marc straightened. “Take him to the ledge.”

“He’s just a kid,” said Marc.

“He’ll talk,” said Khonshu.

Marc obeyed and picked up the teenager, holding him up near the ledge, careful not to let him drop. Marc had never been one to harm kids, but all of a sudden, the boy’s face because (Y/N)’s for a sickening moment, and Marc held onto his scarf all the tighter.

“Where is Harrow?” he demanded, wanting this to be over with quickly.

The boy looked down and back at Marc. “Praise Ammit.”

“No, kid—”

The boy cut his scarf with his knife before Marc could do anything, and he plummeted to his death. Marc’s eyes widened in horror.

“Mm.” Khonshu barely reacted. “I thought he’d talk.”

Marc nearly snapped and asked whether or not (Y/N) would think that was a lie. He swallowed his anger, though, and directed it on Steven—and himself.

“What the hell’s wrong with you, Steven?” he questioned.

“Me?” Steven’s reflection shone out of the side mirror of a car. “You’re the one going on a killing spree and scaring (Y/N)!”

“I didn’t do any of this,” snapped Marc.

“Me neither. Listen, if you’ve got a problem with the high body count, I suggest you stop listening to that bloody pigeon,” retorted Steven.

“Stay out of my way,” said Marc, turning away. He cleared his throat. “Well, if we can’t find Harrow’s digging crew, we’re gonna have to stop ‘em another way.” He looked around. “I need to find (Y/N) first, though.”

“Ma’at has an eye on them. You have no need to concern yourself,” said Khonshu dismissively.

“Oh, yeah, because the gods seem so kind and worried,” muttered Steven in the reflection, and Marc was inclined to agree.

He looked at Khonshu. “What about the other gods?” he asked. “Are they just going to stand by and allow somebody to unleash Ammit?”

“To signal for an audience with the gods is to risk their wrath,” said Khonshu.

“Why? What’s the worst that could happen?” asked Marc.

“Anger them enough, and they’ll imprison Ma’at and me in stone,” said Khonshu.

Marc tsked. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

“See how you fare against Harrow without the protection of my healing armor or Ma’at’s strength,” said Khonshu.

Marc threw up his hands. “Alright. So what? Do you have any good ideas? If not, I’m going to find (Y/N), Ma’at’s ‘concern’ be damned.” He turned away.

“I have a bad idea.” Khonshu disappeared.

“Khonshu?” Even for the bird, that was unusual. Marc looked around, and his eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

A dark shadow was crossing over the sun, blocking out its light in a sudden eclipse.

“Sending the gods a message they can’t ignore.”

(Y/N) felt the shadows rush over them before they saw the eclipse. They looked up in awe as the sun was blocked out.

“Ma’at?” they asked. “What’s going on?”

“Khonshu is risking the wrath of the gods,” said Ma’at. “There is to be a meeting of the Ennead.”

“Can’t they help with Ammit and Harrow?”

“They could. Or…” Ma’at’s eyes narrowed. “They could imprison Khonshu and I in stone.”

“Have you two done something wrong?”

“According to their nonsensical rules.”

(Y/N) frowned. Ma’at never avoided speaking matter-of-factly, so to avoid speaking truthfully and twisting her words meant something significant. Still, there wasn’t much (Y/N) could do, and as a doorway opened beside them, (Y/N) knew that they had bigger problems at hand.

(Y/N) stood, squared their shoulders, and stepped through the door.

It was time to face the gods.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

@oscarissac2099

@amberforest08

@kyalov

@yyourmotherr

@im-making-an-effort

@the-toskaverse

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winxwannabe · 2 months

Note

I’m frothing at the mouth for as much info from the Winx encyclopedia thing as you’re willing to post thank you for your service

Good news! There are a series of pages regarding the girl’s childhoods that are ripe with✨family dynamics✨ and L O R E. I forgot to take photos of the pages before leaving for a weekend trip, but I can tell you what I’ve learned and post the images on Monday!

Before the good stuff let’s get the boring out of the way: there’s no new info on Bloom’s childhood since it was covered so extensively in Season 1. Expected, but I will tell you my favorite part: Bloom says no matter what Mike and Vanessa are her parents. You love to see it.

Flora has a distant relationship with her dad compared to her mom and Miele. He’s a landscape architect for ‘The Senatorial Chamber of Public Greens,’ and wasn’t around much. She was also one of those kids who could make flower jewelry. So jealous.

Stella was raised mostly by the Solarian royal staff instead of Radius or Luna. Big day for the Radius Haters. She always had a thing for brunette boys and either A) got the magic equivalent of Lasik or B) wears contacts. I’m going with B in my own head cannons.

Layla has childhood trauma from being forced to stay inside. Yay? We knew about that but you know what I found that was new: ANNE LORE! Aisha knows where Anne moved - a planet called Eros. There’s no mention of it anywhere else in Winx, so re-write people can go ape with it. (This is apparently on the wiki now but it’s not mentioned in the series so I never looked whoops)

Musa’s pages are just…a right mess of contradictions. Ho-Boe wanted Musa to become a singer like Matlin was, a TOTAL 180 from the series where he’s worried about Musa following in her mother’s footsteps. He’s worried about her going to Alfea to be a fairy? I don’t know I’m missing a key word in the translation or something, but I will report back!

Also, there’s a footnote about her mom’s hologram being stored in a camellia flower, which is important in Chinese and Japanese culture. Not surprising, but makes the whitewashing Fate did funnier.

And lastly, Tecna heavily implies on Zenith it’s common to have memories stored in virtual reality? A true gold mine of potential story content (especially when you did a season about time travel). They give Tecna anxiety to look though - which to be fair is a mood. But it does mention specifically Tecna’s always been a smart kid, even on Zenith, and that she had friends. I don’t know why that made me happy but it did (probably because ‘nerd’ characters are usually portrayed as outcasts, so I appreciate Tecna not going through that).

#winx club #liz gets questions #Enciclomagia

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harlowcomehome · 9 months

Text

Apologies and reconnections:

Series link.

You replayed the last couple of days in your head, you and Jack weren’t necessarily on bad terms but you weren’t speaking as much as you usually did.

You were back in Atlanta with Layla and things were awkward between the two of you as well.

“Can we talk? Please?” Layla sat up from the couch the moment you walked inside your place.

“Layla, I have a lot of work to do. I don’t have time for this right now” You were carrying a bunch of files from work trying to distract yourself from real life.

“Please just talk to me. It’s been days and you’re being so weird with me” Layla followed you into your room hoping you’d finally talk to her.

“I don’t know what to say to you. You kept that from me and now Jack and I are in such a weird place and-“You tried to catch your breath. “I told him I love him Lay. And I do and that’s already scary enough and now things are awkward.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. That was wrong. I know and I’m sorry.” She sat down on the bed as you stood there in front of her.

“You two have been dating for too long for this awkward tension” she added.

“I know. I’m just frustrated at the situation and it’s easier to be mad at you because you’re right here” your lip quivered. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I hope you know that” Layla sniffled, you knew she wanted to hug you but was unsure.

You gave her a hug and the two of you sighed. “I know that!”

You wiped your face before you sat beside her.

“Have you talked to him?”

“A little here and there. He’s been busy with tour and I threw myself into work projects. He’s in North Carolina today, and I only know that because I checked his schedule.” You knew Jack had tomorrow off and were wishing on every star and crossing every finger hoping he’d come to see you.

You were tired of the tension between the two of you and wanted to talk it out.

“How are things with Urb?” You swallowed, as you stood up and began to put on some lounge clothes.

“Good, casual. I mean he’s coming to see me tomorrow on their off day” She smiled and you nodded forcing a smile and trying to remain hopeful that Jack would be coming too.

What you didn’t know was that Jack was falling apart himself, he had spent the days after you left in intense work mode which meant everyone around him was growing frustrated and irritable by his controlling demeanor.

It wasn’t until Neelam stepped in and made him aware of the situation that he realized how awful he was behaving.

“I think you should just talk to her in person” Neelam sat across from Jack backstage at the show. “Urban is going to catch a red-eye tonight to Atlanta and you should go too.”

“I don’t know. Things have been so weird between us” he sighed. “I’m afraid if I say something it’ll be the wrong thing.”

“But if you say nothing at all? That’s worse” Neelam sighed as she handed Jack his in ears. “You should’ve told her about the PR thing, we told you too.”

Jack didn’t reply he just nodded, standing up as it was almost time to go on stage. He already felt bad enough and didn’t need her to remind him.

“I’ll book that flight” Neelam patted his shoulder as she walked away. She had already booked it when she booked Urbans but she wasn’t about to tell Jack that.

When the show was over Jack and Urban were rushed to the airport to catch their flight. Jack felt a sense of guilt for not meeting any of the fans that were waiting outside for him. He hated feeling like he had to choose, was it you or was it them? He couldn’t express that feeling to anyone around him, which made it feel even heavier.

Urban took notice of his attitude shift, Jack always got quiet when he was deep in thought.

“It’s going to be okay. That girl loves you” Urban reassured him and Jack smiled as they quickly got to airport security.

“Does she know you’re coming?” Urban asked as the two of them boarded the plane.

“No, should I tell her?” Jack chewed on his lower lip nervously.

Urban shrugged throwing his backpack in the overhead bin.

Communication is what got us into this situation, Jack thought to himself before calling you quickly before the rest of the flight boarded.

“Hi,” you answered as calmly as you could as if you hadn’t just torn your sheets apart to look for your phone.

“Hi. Were you sleeping?” Jack hummed.

“No! Not at all. How was the show?” You were falling asleep but you weren’t technically asleep yet.

Jack chuckled knowing you had definitely been sleeping. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m flying to Atlanta tonight and I wanted to see you.”

“Do you want to come here or do you want me to meet you there?”

Jack looked to Urban asking what Layla and him planned to do.

“I think Layla is going to your place” you continued before Urban could answer.

“I’ll meet you at yours then? Is that okay?” Jack replied.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you in a few hours?”

“See you then” Jack hung up feeling a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was hoping you’d say you loved him before hanging up.

As soon as you and Jack hung up you went to Layla's room, she was already awake and getting ready.

“Is he coming?” She noticed your expression was hard to read.

“Do you think he’s going to break up with me?”

“No? Why would he? He loves you far too much.” Layla truly believed that, pushing you to get ready.

••••••••

Both Jack and Urban showed up at your door, Layla waving you goodbye immediately as Jack stepped inside your apartment nervous for all that was coming.

He put his bag down beside your front door.

You both looked at each other, your eyes filled with tears as he stepped toward you.

“Hi.”

He walked toward you, arms wide open as you ran to him and hugged him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I was such an idiot and I didn’t just tell you the truth about what was going on. Neelam encouraged me to and so did Chris but for some reason, I just felt like if I didn’t tell you it would be easier to avoid.” Jack started to ramble as you had your arms around his torso, looking up at him with teary eyes.

“When I did that interview I wasn’t thinking and I just said whatever I thought was convincing and I didn’t think about your feelings and that’s where I fucked up. Y/N I promise you that I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Jack legitimately felt like he was going to vomit if you didn’t say anything to him soon.

You were crying into his shirt now, his stomach was covered with tears.

“Baby, please say something” he ran his trembling fingers through his curls.

You gathered yourself as best you could, pulling back from him to look at his face before guiding him by his hand to the couch.

“Why did you think telling me would be worse than me finding out on my own? Do you feel like you can’t talk to me?”

“I’ve never navigated a relationship with this much fame before. I know that sounds stupid and like an excuse but I promise it’s not and this won’t happen ever again because I don’t want to lose you.”

“I may not understand everything but I’ll do my best to try. I just need you to talk to me.” You explained as calm as you could.

“I’ll be more open baby. I promise” he looked into your eyes making sure you knew he meant it. He felt a sense of trust with you that he had truly never felt with someone else but being vulnerable wasn’t something that came easy either way.

You softly chuckled to yourself, wiping your tears as they continued to fall. “I thought you flew here to break up with me.”

“I honestly thought you were going to dump me” Jack laughed nervously. “We just haven’t talked very much the last few days and I was worried-“

You kissed him to stop him from rambling.

“I love you and I’m sorry” he mumbled through kisses.

“I love you too and I forgive you, but don’t let it happen again” You gave him a stern look and he nodded showing you he completely understood where you were coming from.

“Oh! Before I forget” he stood up and walked over to his bag. He pulled out a small box covered in bubble wrap.

“We never got a snow globe when tour started so I got you one from North Carolina” he smiled. “I know you’ve never been but we can always go together.”

“You remembered?” You poked your bottom lip out fighting back tears again.

“I pay attention” he puffed his chest out making you giggle.

“Sometimes” you corrected him.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow concepts #Jack Harlow blurb #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow imagines #Jack Harlow fanfic

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magicalbats · 5 months

Text

We Turn Not Older: Layla

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 3136

Warnings: Afab!reader but no gendered language, mentions of cunnilingus, scissoring

A/N: with a few minutes to spare, I'm actually on time with this one! Amazing!

⭐

Layla’s dorm is almost claustrophobically small and cluttered with astrology equipment, but it is also decidedly cozy. You knew you liked it as soon as you’d stepped through the door hours ago, when it was still daylight. Now it was dark. The cracks around the shuttered window on the far wall let in no light at all but you have no idea where she might have a clock sitting around to check the time. Not that it really mattered right now. You were much too comfortable lying in bed together, sharing this tight space with her, to even think about getting up and dressing yourself.

Sighing in contentment, you instead roll over onto your side to regard the other girl. She’d drifted off to sleep some time ago after just a single round of going down on her and you now had the perfect opportunity to simply study her without fear of putting her on the spot. Honestly, you’d been more than just a little surprised when she first suggested this. You came as soon as you’d received the letter from the mysterious, unnamed scribe who you strongly suspected had been her other half. The other Layla. The one that is not quite so shy or easily flustered, or absent minded. You thought you were talking to her at first, for just a brief moment, but you’d quickly realized that was not the case.

The fact you ended up in a tangle of limbs and sheets almost seems like a distant dream to you. Just something your travel weary mind had cooked up to taunt you with on lonely nights spent out on the road. This hadn’t been your intention or even some sneaky ulterior motive you’d harbored beforehand. But it was her birthday and she’d seemed like she needed it. Badly. After cumming so hard you thought she was going to pass out she’d promptly fallen asleep and you quickly followed suit not along after. It was hard not to start feeling drowsy when your bed partner was snoozing away so soundly.

But she was still quietly snoring and you were awake. Carefully, you reach out to toy with a curled strand of rich dark hair. It’s unbelievably soft and silky between your fingertips. You think you could probably play with it for days without growing bored but even just that simple touch is enough to rouse her from what you’d thought was a deep slumber. With a faint, sleepy groan, Layla turns her head on the pillow to peer over at you.

Offering her a small smile, you drop the strand of hair and it bounces back into place as if nothing at all were amiss. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine.” She half slurs under her breath. Blinking away some more of the sleep from her eyes, Layla shifts to the side and then rolls over to face you. Her golden irises take you in for a long moment, just flitting over your face and your shoulders. The curve of your bare hip. “We really did that, huh?”

“Yeah. We did.” You agree.

“Should we do it again?”

A quick laugh bursts out of you. “I probably shouldn’t be surprised considering how good it looked like you were sleeping a moment ago, but I had no idea you could be so insatiable.”

She quickly averts her gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You murmur, soft and reassuring. Scooting yourself closer on the already cramped single bed, you bring your hand up to cradle the delicate curve of her waist. “Do you want to do it again? I don’t mind if you do.”

She considers that for a brief moment, idly picking at a single loose thread on the sheet with thoughtful fingers. You think she’s very cute like this and you lean even closer to press a quick kiss to her cheek. That brings her attention back up, both of you just looking at one another for a long stretch before she lowers her eyes to study your mouth. The same mouth that had brought her to shuddering pleasure earlier in the day.

“I’d like that, Traveler. Can we?”

You grin at her. “Of course we can. After all, I didn’t have a chance to get off before you zonked out on me the first time.”

Layla’s expression is equal parts surprised and flustered. Her mouth warbles open to stammer out a string of apologies and self deprecating sentiments but you quickly silence her with a kiss. She moans, very softly, at the lingering taste of her own cunt on your lips and tongue. Breathes deep and relaxes into the gesture before kissing you back. Your snuffed excitement from before promptly flares back to life, set aside but far from forgotten. It actually feels even more potent than you remembered it being and you can’t help but moan too as you drag your hand up and down her side in an encouraging caress. This may not have been your intention in coming here but you hoped she was well rested enough after her nap to stay awake a little longer.

But even if she doesn’t, even if she falls asleep again right after, you were still enjoying yourself in the moment. It felt good being naked with her, here in the secluded privacy of her dorm. Layla’s breast is firm and perfectly cuppable in the palm of your hand when you touch it with a reverence that makes her tremble and stretch out beside you. You take a moment to thumb over the nipple in slow, even strokes until it’s stiffly perked. Taking it between your fingers, you then give it a gentle tweak. She appreciatively sighs into your mouth before tentatively reaching over to do the same to your chest, reciprocating the gesture almost tit for tat.

You spend what feels like many minutes just basking in the warmth and the feel of one another. Kissing, touching and fondling, but it doesn’t take long for you to grow impatient. She’d found release earlier, you hadn’t. You were still wet and waiting for your own turn, your cunt mutedly throbbing every time you rub your thighs together.

Finally giving in to the urge, you turn half of the way over onto your back and reach down with your free hand. The other tugs on Layla’s neck to guide her right up against you. She breaks apart from the kiss with a low, breathy sound as your breasts meet and press into each other. Rubbing your sticky slit in savory circles, you look her right in the eye as you reach back with the other to dip fingers under the curve of her ass and prod at what’s between her legs.

“Oh.” She gives a quiet squeak, thick lashes fluttering slightly at the sensation. You allow yourself a moment to just tease along her crease while you sedately hump into your own hand at the same time. Archons, if you’d known this was what she wanted you would have stopped somewhere and bought some toys to play with.

“Is this what you were looking forward to?” You keep your voice low and suggestive as you slowly breach the seam of her body and press up into satiny soft lips. “Having my fingers in your tight pussy again?”

“Oooh.” She makes the same sound but she draws it out this time. Allows her eyes to slip shut and just basks in the sensation. Gingerly, she lifts her top most leg and throws it over your hip so she can curl her body even closer and give you a better angle to stretch open her cunt. It works and your fingers sink in a little deeper. She’s so incredibly warm inside, all soft and wet, and cushiony that you can’t help but give your digits a small wriggle. “It feels so good, Traveler … don’t stop. Please.”

As if you even could at this point. Between your own arousal and the way she’s gripping you in palpitating squeezes, her body instinctively trying to take you in even deeper, there was no way you could bring yourself to stop until you were watching her fall apart again. You had no intention of teasing her today. Not when that would mean teasing yourself in the process.

Momentarily abandoning your own cunt, you reach up between your bodies and offer Layla your hand. She gently takes the wrist so she can hold it in place while she gives your fingers shy little kitten licks to taste you. The way she watches you while she does it seems to be in apology. Like she felt bad for leaving you hanging the first time, even though you’d only been joking about that. It was her birthday after all. This was her treat, not yours no matter how much you wanted a chance to cum too.

Besides, you had something in mind that you suspected would please both of you at the same time and keep you two equally happy. You just needed to make sure both of you were wet enough first.

Layla was certainly getting there, the soft little clicks you pull from her body attesting to the amount of slick her pussy was making around your fingers. You weren’t far off either but you still take your hand from her and reach down to smear your cunt in saliva. It feels so good that you almost don’t want to stop, especially when she brings her hand down to fondle your breast again. The way she pinches the nipple with delicate fingertips makes your breath come a little faster, moaning into the static charged air.

Before you can edge yourself too close to the line, you force your hand to stop rubbing. Your pussy throbs at the loss of stimulation but you quickly roll her over onto her back and sit up. Eagerly, Layla spreads her legs wide in clear invitation, her cunt flushed an excited pink and sticky with arousal. You oblige her for the moment and bend over her pelvis so you can flick your tongue over the sensitive bud at the apex of her slit. Meaty creases and folds shudder under the ministration of your mouth and she promptly shakes in response. It was quite clear to you that Layla very much enjoyed having her pussy ate and, truth be told, you liked it too. Her clit was prominent and easy to find — hell, you could see it at just a glance, erect and jutting out from under its protective hood in search of more pleasure — and that made it all the more fun to tease and mouth at it. You were banking on it making your idea a resounding success.

“Your pretty pussy is so greedy, Layla. You already came once and look how excited you are. Don’t you have anyone to go down on you in the Akademiya?”

A faint, wavering moan rises in the air. She nudges her pelvis at you, back and forth, back and forth in a pleading manner. She was needy, that was for sure.

You take pity on her and bring your hand close, rubbing her fat clit with your fingers. Layla shakes beautifully for you, her breathing rapidly picking up and becoming thicker. You don’t want her to cum like this when you had something even better in mind though, and you pull away before she can find her release. She blinks at you as if in a daze as you get spun around and take hold of one dainty ankle so you can curl it up and out to the side. The motion leaves her cunt perfectly bare and vulnerable so you can shuffle closer until your pussy finds hers. It takes a moment of adjusting, slotting the pieces together just right, but you know it as soon as you find it.

Your body suddenly feels ten degrees hotter as lips brush against lips and squish together, creating a wet warm seal. Layla’s breath hitches in her chest when your clit prods against hers with the first experimental roll of your hips. You moan, and then do it again. Even for the lack of a toy to help mutually stimulate the two of you, it still felt mind numbingly good just to grind your cunts together and you take a great deal of pleasure in watching her face take on a far off, dreamy look as you fall into a steady rhythm.

She almost doesn’t seem to know what to make of it at first but the pleasure is undeniable. Her cheeks flush even hotter, a low chorus of appreciative sounds falling from her lips with each slow motion drag or your hips. It looks like you’re driving her crazy now, the way she not so subtly writhes and clutches the sheets. Her hazy attention stays locked on the spot where your bodies meet though, like she was fascinated with watching you thrust against her.

Oh, if only she knew what you could do to her with the right equipment.

“Does that feel good, princess? You look so lovely spread out for me like this.”

The way she moans your name then, so sweet and fragile, makes your pulse pound even harder. You wanted to touch her more, play with her tits and pinch on those stiff nipples until she really started to cry out for you. But it’s hard enough keeping your slit lined up with hers while moving at the same time and you have to make do with squeezing her thigh in a possessive grip. You’ve got it half curled around your waist, the other leg still held captive in the air, and you could tell you were slowly creeping ever closer to the breaking point. You were wound tight to begin with but the way her stiff clit digs up into and slides over yours … it was amazing how perfectly made for each other two pussies could be. Like puzzle pieces, you fit together so very nicely and you were soaring high on the adrenaline of fucking yourself on her.

“Shit, Layla,” You gasp, struggling to keep your pelvis planted squarely over hers without losing your pace to the eager twitching that runs through your tightening muscles. Any second now the cord would snap and you sincerely hoped she was as close as you were, so you could finish together.

“Ooh, please … please make me cum, Traveler, I want to cum so bad.”

Digging your fingers deeper into the soft pudge of her upper thigh, you allow your hips to thrust a bit harder. A little quicker. There’s such a sticky mess between the two of you now that your slit just keeps gliding over hers in a meaty press, but her clit seems to hit its mark each time. It was making you shudder much more violently than you’d anticipated and making the effort that much more of a struggle. Almost like a role reversal, you felt vaguely like the one who was getting fucked here, not the other way around. But you keep going even when your breaths puff out of you in quick, heaving gasps and it seems like you’re just as liable to shake right off her as anything else. Your world recedes to a fine pinprick of consciousness that consists entirely of the sensation of her pussy squishing under yours, moulding two bodies together, and the breathy groans of pleasure she lets out.

It was dizzying in the best possible way, and that feeling only increases when you finally cum with a stuttering roll of your pelvis. The spasms seize you in the time it takes you to blink, trembling so suddenly it startles a high pitched yelp out of you. Teeth clenching tight, you seethe throughout the duration of your release even as you stubbornly continue to work yourself against her.

And Layla manages to surprise you when she cums too, just a heartbeat later. She shakes and rattles through her orgasm in almost perfect tandem with you. It’s like she’s feeding off of your pleasure, taking it into herself and then giving it back tenfold. You can feel her pussy squeezing underneath you and the sticky mess between you suddenly feels obscene. You'd thoroughly soaked one another.

Wheezing with the final tremors of your orgasm, you release her and collapse on top of the still moaning girl in a heap of limbs and sweat dampened skin. She quickly brings her arms up to twine them around your heaving back, holding you close against her chest. It takes a prolonged moment for both of you to recover but the afterglow is warm and peaceful. Comfortable.

It wouldn’t have been so bad staying with her here, just like this. If only you didn’t have other matters, other responsibilities to see to.

“Layla?” You speak at last, wondering if she’d already dozed off again.

“Hm?” Her response is quiet and groggy. Distant, like she really had been drifting back to sleep despite having only just woken up some half hour ago. You probably would have found it a little ridiculous had you not known exactly how content and satiated she must have felt in that moment. Another nap didn’t sound bad at all.

But you wanted to ask. Had to ask. “Are you sure you don’t want to do anything else for your birthday besides lay in bed all day? I mean. It’s your choice, of course. I just thought … maybe you'd want to do something else.”

“Like what?” She yawns quietly when she says it. You try very hard not to smile and you fail miserably.

“I don’t know. Go out to dinner or something? My treat, obviously.”

Layla noises a small sound of interest but rather than rousing her with the prospect she actually snuggles deeper into the mattress as if settling in for the night. “Mmm. Dinner sounds good. How about breakfast instead? We can go somewhere in the morning.”

“It won’t be your birthday tomorrow.”

“That’s alright.” Is the last thing she murmurs to you before knocking out completely. Her chest slowly rises and falls underneath you with the slow breaths she pulls in, lulling you into a similar state of drowsiness. It was the same as the first time. You just couldn’t seem to keep your eyes open when she was snoozing away with such tranquil ease. And it didn’t exactly help that you felt so safe and secure cradled in her arms like this. Vulnerable almost, like you were the one at her mercy. It was very possible that you were.

Perhaps you should try giving her the toy and seeing what she could come up with when taking the lead. Something told you that you wouldn’t be disappointed.

⭐

#genshin impact #layla #layla x reader #self insert bullshit

55 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 1 year

Note

just had a tornado blow through...(we're okay, it's kinda normal here). but could we get another blackout/big storm fic? (if you're up for it?)

Glad you're alright! We've got a big storm here tonight as well <3 Have some Lions working through life to distract. Character credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW mild/ medium relationship issues, Sirius' bad habits, and previous people not being very nice to Leo

There was something in the water. Remus was sure of it.

“Put—stop it! Put it down!”

Maybe carbon monoxide was leaking into the rink. Plus all of their houses and apartments.

“I told you, it’s not about the rutabaga.”

Or, fuck it, Mercury was in the microwave again. In the Gatorade? Something like that. He wondered if Marlene would know.

Arthur knocked on the doorframe and the mass of grumbling died down; the air still tasted like sour sweat and irritation and Remus wrinkled his nose at the mats. After a cursory look around the room, Arthur raised a brow and gestured with his clipboard. “Y’know, I’ve got a lot of notes—a lot of notes—but none of you look like you can handle them right now, so we’re doing the short version. Cap, come see me. Lupin, Moody’s waiting for you, don’t give me that face. Olli, figure your shit out. Kuns…Kuns.” He shook his head. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Tremzy, stop being mean, and Harz, stop being stupid. Bliz, Layla gets the honor of having you this afternoon. Do your cooldowns without biting each others’ heads off, please, and then go home and sleep this off. Goodnight.”

“Night, Coach,” came the mumbled chorus.

Remus chewed the inside of his lip while he stripped his shin pads off. Sirius was already halfway out the door, still in his under armor—the rush of endorphins that usually accompanied the sight of his gorgeous fiancé was notably absent. He closed his eyes and took a breath. Recenter. It was a rough day, rough week, rough whatever. It would be best to just let it go now.

A hand clapped his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. “Jesus!”

“Woah, hey, easy.” Talker held both hands low, palms down between their stalls. “Just saying hi.”

“What—” Breathe. Recenter. Remus blinked a few times to clear his head. “Fuck, no, you’re good. Sorry. Hi. Sorry.”

Talker’s gaze turned dark with worry. “You okay?”

“Just…in my head.” It was a shit answer, but his vague wave seemed to get the point across. Talker nodded slowly. His hands remained on his own side. “You?”

“Been better, been worse.” He tipped his head back and forth, making his small earring swing. A gift from Noelle, if Remus remembered correctly. He watched it catch the fluorescent light for a few seconds before Talker spoke again. “Weird energy in here.”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah.” Remus turned back to his pads with a humorless laugh. “No kidding. We should crack a window or something.”

Talker hummed, tucking his hands beneath himself. One knee bounced incessantly and Remus tried not to let it bother him. “Reminds me of the you-know-whats.”

Remus’ hands itched to knock on wood. “Yep.”

“But we’re not there. Yet,” Talker added after a pause.

“Nope.”

“Cap’s being…interesting.”

“Tell me about it,” Remus muttered.

Something like relief rippled over Talker’s expression. “So it’s not us.”

“When is it ever?” Remus offered a wry smile. “He gets like this. You know that. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

Talker’s shoulder relaxed against his own, warm and solid. “Yeah, I guess.”

“It’s really not you, man.”

“I know.”

“T.” Remus waited until he looked over, and ducked his head slightly. “It’s not you.”

The kicked-puppy look in Talker’s eye made his chest hurt. Remus knew he had a tendency to put it all on himself—to think he was solely responsible for maintaining the team’s happiness. They were friends for a reason, after all. A missed pass wasn’t the end of the world, but…god, in the NHL? It sure felt like it.

Leo blew past them, not quite stomping, but certainly not pleased. Remus followed his path and found Logan staring at the floor with the same mournful gaze that plagued half the room. His stomach twisted. For a group of guys with everything in the world, they were a bunch of fucking messes, sometimes.

He patted Talker once on the shoulder before standing; he didn’t bother with shoes. It was a quick enough trip to get by in his socks. Moody’s office door was already open when he arrived, and he had barely raised his hand to knock on the frame when a grunt invited him inside.

The door closed with a faint noise. Silence thickened the air, save for the scribble of Moody’s pen. “Coach said you wanted to see me?” Remus prompted awkwardly. He didn’t like this stiffness. They had never been like that before.

Moody clicked his pen shut and leaned back in his chair with a long sigh, rocking back and forth. “Layla says you’re favoring your bad side.”

Tattletale. Remus bit the instinctive thought back. That wasn’t fair. “Probably.” Moody raised an unamused brow at him. “Yeah,” he admitted, scuffing his foot on the floor. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

“Why?”

“ ‘Cause.”

“The league doesn’t like it when I’m not nice to you boys.” Moody fixed him in place with a look. “But you’re not a snitch, so cough it up, you little shit.”

A scowl tried to claw its way onto Remus’ face, but he kept himself steady. Moody had done too much for him and saved him from too many bad places to be iced out. He kicked at a dust bunny. “Nine years.”

“Since…?”

“Since.”

“Ah.”

He sniffed, dry-eyed and nauseated. “Next Monday. Nine years. I still remember the day and time it happened.”

“We’re not playing Vegas next week.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Moody went quiet, and stayed that way for a long time. His chair creaked as he rocked in slow, maddening patterns. He’d have his leg off, tucked beneath his desk; he rarely left it on when he didn’t need to. Something about sweat. Itching. The works, he’d grumble if Remus asked. The ‘World’s Best Grandpa’ mug—a gag gift from last year’s Secret Santa—sat undisturbed on his desk, filled to bursting. Pens, pencils, a spoon, a screwdriver, an inexplicable parrot feather, all interspersed with his steadily-growing collection of flags.

Remus remembered the day the first one had appeared. A simple rainbow with a wooden stick, no bigger than a postcard. Moody hadn’t said a thing, but he knew it was for him. It wasn’t the only one anymore. The sight of it still made his throat tight.

“Come see me if you need to,” Moody said at last. He tapped his pen on his stack of papers, then nodded. “For the record, I’m not worried. Out of my office.”

“Have a good night, Moody.” Thunder rolled overhead as he turned to the door. “Get home safe, okay?”

He got another grunt in the affirmative and turned the doorknob, hoping the squeaky top hinge would muffle his sigh. The door swung open, Remus walked face-first into Sirius’ chest, and everything went black as night.

“I don’t know why you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit.”

“My feelings aren’t bullshit.”

“Mon dieu—”

“I’m serious, I’m not angry.” Leo shut the drawer a little harder than necessary. The salt shaker rattled on the counter.

“Then what are you?” Logan demanded, keeping his voice low.

“I’m—” He pressed his lips together and tilted his face up to the ceiling. Upset. Hurt. Stressed. Frustrated. Angry. “I don’t know.”

“I already apologized for the rhubarb—”

“Rutabaga.”

“Jesus, Leo.” Logan’s tone was sharp; he flinched. Okay, maybe he deserved that one. He heard Logan’s unsteady exhale and felt a gentle touch on his arm. “I’m sorry. I should have listened better, or texted you when I wasn’t sure.”

And there it was again, that burning flare of annoyance. Leo shrugged him off and turned to the coffee maker. Someone had left their disposable cup in the machine the last time it was used. The sight made him want to take the entire thing and slam it on the floor.

“Leo?”

“I don’t want you to text me when you aren’t sure.” His voice came out shaky and he silently cursed himself. At least his hands didn’t tremble while he swapped the cups. “I—Logan, I shouldn’t have to be your food dictionary.”

“Hey.”

Leo bit the inside of his cheek at the genuine hurt in Logan’s voice and dug through the mug cupboard. “Look, it’s fine, just…look it up if you’re not sure. It’s not like I hide my cookbooks.”

Or, better yet, be a capable adult. Logan’s sneakers shuffled on the linoleum. Where was his goddamn mug? “D’accord,” he finally said. “Yeah, I’ll—I can do that.”

Was it bad that Leo wanted him to push harder? Maybe he was just jonesing for a fight, but Logan’s instant buckling made him feel even worse. They had been waspish with each other earlier, enough that Finn outright refused to be in the same room until they figured themselves out—perhaps Logan had worn out his ability to argue for the day.

Leo snorted humorlessly. That would be a first.

Pastel yellow caught his peripheral vision. He clenched his hands on the edge of the countertop and took a deep, fortifying breath. Throwing a mug at a wall would get him fired. Throwing things at Logan would never be something he did, in this life or the next, no matter how angry he may or may not be.

Leo plucked the Me-Wow! mug from it’s place—dirty—in the sink—also dirty—by its tail-shaped handle and dropped it in the trash, then walked out of the kitchen, leaving Logan and his coffee behind. Thunder rumbled overhead and guilt bubbled up. He shouldn’t leave like that, not when the storm was only going to get worse. Logan didn’t do well alone and upset. He had almost certainly left his headphones at home, too. Leo was never the one to leave but he just couldn’t take it—

He made it ten feet down the hall before the lights went out and silence doused the building.

Fuck.

James was not live, laugh, loving in these conditions. First of all, his best friend/ best man/ adopted brother was imploding with self-loathing for approximately the seventh time this week. Second, his wife’s best friend/ best man/ adopted brother was a nervous wreck despite his best attempts to keep himself together. And third, two of the rookies had worked themselves into a tiff that made Finn look like that.

Finn watched Logan leave after Leo in utter misery. Poor kid belonged in an ASPCA commercial.

In truth, James didn’t know what went wrong, exactly. Sirius had these cycles—he’d ride high and be so firm in himself, in what he loved and worked for, then crash so hard James expected it to leave visible wounds. It was far more frequent in the early days. Since Remus entered the picture, Sirius hadn’t spiraled more than a handful of times. It was like he needed a pressure-release valve to make sure all those internal works didn’t melt or rust over. Remus was better at getting Sirius to talk than just about anyone. It was shitty that Remus’ wan smiles and sickly pallor had to align with the exact time Sirius most needed someone who wouldn’t put up with his nonsense.

James did his best, but he wanted them to be happy more than anything. More often than not, it meant he didn’t push nearly enough. They all had bad habits.

He knew Coach would bring it up today. Sirius’ dark mood had set them all on edge, caught in that place between wanting to prove themselves and wanting to stay out of the way. Whatever was happening between Leo and Logan had brought the scrap of good mood to rock-bottom. There was only so much slack James could pick up without exhausting himself, and he was already at the end of his rope.

Talker was still fussing with his sock tape when James looked over. The stickiness was dead from his rhythmic wrapping and unwrapping, but he didn’t seem to care. James nudged his toe with the front of his skate. “ ‘Sup?”

Talker half-shrugged. “Not much.”

“You were good in the scrimmage today.”

His hands stuttered on the roll before evening out again. “You, too.”

James scooted over into Remus’ stall and lowered his head, turning slightly away from the center of the room for an iota of privacy. “You wanna talk about it? If this is about the pass—”

“Noelle can’t make it for my birthday.”

Oh. Oh. James’ heart sank. “Aw, buddy.”

“They’re in the playoffs and someone rescheduled.” His lips pressed together in a tight line. “It’s dumb, I just…”

“Miss her,” James finished when he trailed off.

Talker nodded. “Distance sucks.”

“I know.”

James tried not to be offended by Talker’s immediate skepticism. “You do?”

“Lily stayed in Boston for three years before transferring up here.” Worst three years of my life. “She wanted her BS in chemistry. I wasn’t going to be the schmuck to hold her back. We called, and FaceTimed, and texted when she was at school, but it—”

“Wasn’t the same,” they said in unison.

The ball of tape fell pathetically next to the trash bin. “I want to hug her,” Talker said. “It sounds so stupid, but I want to hug her. And—I don’t know, it’s been rainy today. She likes it when it rains.”

“Yeah.” James leaned over to bump his shoulder. “I hear if you cross your fingers and jump in a circle three times, your wishes come true.”

Talker was halfway through a laugh when the lights went out.

Oh my god, I went blind. The thought was wild and harebrained and ridiculous. So, precisely how Remus was feeling in every other aspect of his life.

“Oh.” Sirius sounded surprised. His hands were firm on Remus’ upper arms. “Bonjour.”

Remus blinked a few times to let his vision adjust to the sudden darkness. The remnants of the team’s shouts of surprise echoed briefly before going quiet. “Uh, hi,” he managed. Sirius was nothing more than a blob of shadow, but he felt along his arms and chest until he found a shoulder to pat. “Sorry. Power’s out?”

“Looks like it.”

“Huh. Did you…did you need something?”

Sirius shifted from foot to foot. “Uh. No, not really.”

Liar, but okay. Remus patted him again, and let his hand linger. The rink felt different like this. Low murmuring had started up again in the locker room, but everything else was grave-quiet without the familiar buzz of electricity. It felt like the heartbeat had stopped. Like they had paused in time. “We should—should we go back to the locker room?”

Sirius’ hands pulsed where he held Remus. “Sure,” he said with the reluctance of someone being asked to walk headfirst into the ocean.

Lightning cracked outside and Remus caught a glimpse of Sirius worrying at the inside of his lip in the brief light. “We can stay here,” he offered after a moment. “Or, like…go somewhere else for a bit.”

“Can we?”

The relief in Sirius’ voice ached. They had been so pent-up lately, neither willing to break the ice first but both suffering from their shared bad moods. Remus knew he had been more lost in his thoughts than down on Earth for days, and Sirius was being so…so Sirius. But not his Sirius. The Sirius that was twitchy, the Sirius that tossed and turned all night. The Sirius that barely finished his dinner.

Remus rolled the sleeve of Sirius’ shirt between his thumb and pointer finger, and pulled him in for a hug. His stiffness dissolved in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled into Sirius’ collarbone. He smelled good when Remus took a deep inhale, laundry soap and cologne. His arms were strong and solid around Remus’ back—he felt a few deep breaths come and go under his palms and inclined his head to let Sirius’ bury his face in his neck. His hair was damp from his post-practice rinse. It tickled Remus’ nose along the wings he liked to play with when Sirius was sleepy and cuddly. He sighed again. “Sirius, I’m so sorry.”

“I wasn’t there for you this week.” Sirius’ breath warmed his neck. His hold on Remus tightened. “You don’t need to be sorry, loup.”

“Okay,” Remus said softly. “But I am.”

“If you’re sorry, then I’m—” Sirius broke off with a tired laugh and nuzzled further into his neck. “I don’t know. Throwing myself at your feet and begging for forgiveness.”

Remus snorted at that mental image, but held him closer anyway. “It’s okay. I know you don’t like feeling like this.”

“I don’t,” Sirius agreed. “Doesn’t mean I should stop paying attention to you.”

“I’ve been doing the same to you,” he reminded him gently.

“You had a reason.”

“And you didn’t?”

Sirius fell quiet. His fingertips slipped along the divot of Remus’ spine while his palm warmed the small of his back; Remus felt a bit silly, standing there in his socks in the dark, but it didn’t really matter when he could feel Sirius’ heart beginning to even out at last. Someone padded out of the locker room and down the hall. Red hair stood out for a half-second when lightning struck again and his worry eased. If Finn was going to check on his boys, everything would sort itself out.

“I hate that this still happens.” Sirius’ voice barely cleared a whisper. “It sneaks up on me, and then I can’t sleep and I’m not hungry—or, I am, I just can’t—and I don’t know when it will stop.”

“I know, baby.”

“I want to sleep next to you and not be thinking about the next game, Re.”

Remus slipped his hands beneath Sirius’ arms and pressed their bodies together like he could press reassurance into him. If he could take that burden, he would. If he could fix it, he would. If he had the right words to tell Sirius that he didn’t care whether he was perfect or a wreck, he would. He pushed his nose under the soft spot of Sirius’ jaw and kissed him there. “I love you.”

A small sound stuck in Sirius’ throat.

“Je t’aime,” he repeated with another kiss. Just because he could.

The rise and fall of Sirius’ shoulders was steady now. “Je t’aime aussi. Whatever you need for this week, I’m here, okay? I’m in your nook.”

“My…nook?”

“Your—” Sirius huffed a laugh. “I’m on your side. Whatever the saying is.”

“In my corner?” Remus suggested around a smile. Sirius grumbled something vaguely agreeable and swatted at him, but never loosened their hug for a second.

Leo was holding him, and he wasn’t even angry anymore. Not like he had been. Thunder rattled a distant window and Logan’s grip twisted in the front of his shirt. “I’m fine,” he said.

Leo kissed his temple. “Yeah.”

They lapsed back into silence. He was usually so good at problem-solving, but every time he tried to speak, his tongue got stuck on the words. The anger had burnt itself out. The frustration and annoyance were still there, alongside the hurt. He wished Finn was there. Finn always knew what words to use.

“I’m sorry,” Leo said haltingly. Logan shifted in his arms. “I was shitty to you. Earlier, I mean. I should have talked to you.”

Logan didn’t answer. Somehow, that was the worst outcome. Leo knew how to match him in a verbal fight.

Lightning flashed. Logan flinched. Leo held him like he alone could stop the light from taking his boyfriend by surprise. That was it, wasn’t it? Even pissed off, he’d still hold Logan rather than leaving him in the dark with a thunderstorm.

They didn’t speak, just swayed in place. Footsteps echoed down the hall, growing closer each second before coming to a halt in the doorway. “Babes?”

“Here,” they chorused softly.

“Um.” Finn audibly hesitated. “Okay, give me a landmark. I’m so blind right now.”

“By the countertop,” Leo offered. Logan burrowed deeper into his chest. He was fever-hot the way he got when he was upset. Finn’s noise of sympathy when he found them and felt it somehow made it worse. “Hey, Fish.”

“Hey.” Leo heard the sound of a soft kiss. “Lo, you good?”

“Ouais,” came the murmured answer.

They lapsed into silence for the length of another roll of thunder. “And you…” Finn faltered. “You figured yourselves out?”

Leo looked away despite the darkness. They remained silent.

“Right,” Finn sighed.

“I don’t know what I did,” Logan blurted. “You said this wasn’t about the rutabaga, but it is, and you said you’re not angry, but you are, and I’m confused. And I’m really sorry for whatever I did to upset you, Peanut. I’m being so honest right now.”

“That’s the problem,” Leo said helplessly.

Logan clutched at his shirt, as if the answers were hidden in the fabric. “What?” he asked. “What is the problem? Stop doing that, I told you, I’m confused. Are you angry?”

“A little,” Leo choked out. Ugh, honesty was sawdust in his mouth.

“Is it about the rutabaga?”

“No.”

Logan made a frustrated noise, but Finn cut him off before he could continue. “What is it about, sweetheart?” he asked, so gentle it burned.

Leo let out a long breath, unwinding one arm from Logan’s waist to wrap it around Finn instead. He was nice and cool from his shower. They had all been running too hot lately.

“I’m not your mom, Lo,” he began. “We’re all grown-ups here. You know what food looks like. You know how to google things.” He felt the feelings ramp up again and rather than swallowing them back, let them siphon out on an exhale. Everything inside him was a miserable, knotted mess. “You don’t need me to come to the store with you all the time, and it pisses me off when you keep asking because I’m—'better at it’, or whatever. It’s not my job to shop for you. I’m sick and tired of it.”

Logan’s chest caved against his own. He mumbled something under his breath and Leo closed his eyes.

“I can’t hear you when you do that, c’mon, please—"

“I said, it’s not because I need you to shop for me.” Logan’s voice shook slightly, but not with anger.

“Then why would you ask me to walk to the store with you for the ‘right garlic’?” he sighed.

Logan raised his head, leaving a cold spot on the left side of Leo’s chest. “Because I want to spend time with you.”

That—was not the answer he had been expecting. You’re better at it, Logan would say. You know the foods better than I do. The realization came in waves; he had been teasing. Joking. Making it a bit. And Leo thought he was dead serious the whole damn time. All the frustration he had built up around himself cam down with a rush and a clatter. His heart made a break for hell with a pit stop at his stomach. He stared into the dark nothingness of the rink break room and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“I…” He broke off. Words had gotten him into this mess. Were they both that terrible at communicating properly? Finn bumped his arm and he took the hint (for once), wrapping Logan in a hug. By some miracle, Logan hugged him back. “That is the sweetest fucking thing, and I’m so sorry,” he managed, hoarse. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Logan, that was such a fucked-up thing for me to think.”

“I do actually like you, you know,” Logan said, muffled in his shoulder.

The remnants of Leo’s heart went for another spin through the shredder. “No, I know, I know, I’m so sorry. I like you, too.” He pressed a hard kiss to Logan’s temple and squeezed him tighter. “I like you so much. So much.”

“And I know what kind of garlic you like.”

Tears made Leo’s eyes sting and he violently wished them back. He had no right to cry over this. None at all. “Of course you do.”

Logan scratched lightly between his shoulder blades. “I don’t want to think about the type of people that made you think I’d do that, though. But if you want to give me names and addresses…”

Leo laughed weakly and felt Finn huff against him. “No, none of that,” Leo said with a kiss to Logan’s messy curls. He kissed his cheek, too, and his lips for good measure. Slow and easy, the way they both liked it. He wanted to make sure Logan was paying attention. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “You did nothing wrong. I love you so, so much and I never should have thought that about you.”

In the hallway, the whir of generators kicked up. Soft light cast Logan in gold and dull shadows, just enough to make out the conflicted look on his face. His thumb was rough against Leo’s jaw. “I wish you thought better of yourself,” he said quietly. “You’re fun to be around, even walking to the store.”

I wish I had thought better of you. Leo pulled him close without a word and caught Finn’s gaze over Logan’s shoulder. His expression told him everything he needed to know, and he shut his eyes as Finn’s arms came around them both. A kiss lingered just above his ear. Leo kind of wanted to cry all over again.

The generators were a masterpiece of mechanics. The emergency switch flipped the moment the building lost power from the main grid, pooling energy around the rink itself to keep the ice solid. The rest of the lights would come on within fifteen to twenty minutes, beginning with the stadium seats and ending with the more fringe areas, like locker room and kitchens. They were top of the line, the best you could buy for a massive space that relied heavily on electricity to keep it functional.

They were no match for the Lions.

Ice cream, popsicles, and enough beer to cover the team twice over were liberated from the various refrigerators in less than five minutes. The team gathered on the floor of the locker room with iPhone flashlights and glowsticks (also ‘borrowed’ from the adjacent rooms) to enjoy their haul in peace and to play stupid, silly games like middle schoolers at a sleepover. They played games for a living, for crying out loud. Their favorite game. Why on earth would they take it too seriously when an opportunity like this presented itself?

Equal cheers and groans went up when the lights came back on. Moody was the first to leave, having only stuck around that long because the space outside his office door was occupied with an apparently necessary conversation. Arthur was next. The general consensus among the players was that the weather was simply too bad to risk driving. For their safety, they should stay and enjoy their goodies.

The morning security shift found them right where Arthur left them, puppy-piled by their stalls and surrounded by joyous havoc.

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maryleclerc · 1 year

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𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐫𝐬.𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

quinn hughes x reader

summary: quinn and y/n as a newlywed couple

social media au!

warning: english not my first language, all images credit to owner, i do not own any of these images

reblog, like & follow me for more smau!

_quinnhughes

Liked by elblue6, jackhughes and 140,781 others

_quinnhughes Today i can finally ask my Y/n to marry me, my one and only love just for you. I love you baby

tagged: y/username

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y/username I love you too Quintin bear ❤️

quinnhughesfan.43 Gosh so sweet & CONGRATZZZZ

canucks We all so happy for you!

y/username

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y/username Can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you,

tagged: _quinnhughes

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elblue6 Welcome to the Hughes Gang Y/n 🧡

y/username Thank you Mrs Hughes ❤️

lhughes_06 I will be the greatest uncle EVER!

y/username Oh shut up Luke 😂

jackhughes @lhughes_06 No i’m better than you

lhughes_06 Are you sure u Lil Jizzy

kyliejenner My girl is engage now!!! love u two so much!!

y/username Yay finally!!

_quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes 12/20, my mrs.hughes

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y/username Hi my hubby 😉

elblue6 I remember it’s clear as day, when me and your dad hold you for the first time, its always so special moment with your first born first time being a parents to take care of a newborn and he’s a family man now

_quinnhughes Mom you gonna make me and Y/n cry again

y/n.hughes43 Mom i’m gonna cry

elblue6 I don’t mean to make you cry, me and Jim are so so happy for you both, but we both waiting for my grandbabies

_quinnhughes Me and Y/n will be work on it soon

y/n.hughes43 Hey

quinnntin43canucks I still don’t think she deserve you Quinn

fanofy/nandquinn Couple goal 🎉

y/n.hughes43

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y/nhughes I am now stand here wearing this gorgeous wedding dress and call you my husband, i am the luckiest person on this planet ever exist. Let’s build our own Hughes family together Quintin ❤️

Dec 20 💍

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y/m/n My baby is a women now, so so proud of you and quinn

_quinnhughes I will take really good care of Y/n mrs.Y/l/n

y/m/n Oh Quinn just call me Mom 😁

y/m/n I know you will Quinn, you gonna be a great husband and a great dad too

elblue6 Y/n you are so sweet

y/n.hughes43 Thank you Mom 🥺

trevorzegras Beautiful Bride

_quinnhughes Excuse you? That’s my wife

trevorzegras Wow okay okay Huggy Bear

y/n.hughes43 Aww my Huggy Bear is jealous huh?

y/bf/n You look stunning in that dress

y/n.hughes43 Go and ask Trevor out sis!!! I’m sure he like you too

_quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes Owner of my heart

tagged: @y/n.hughes43

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hated.u.y/n He seem so obsess with her, everything, every post is just about her, what she did to him like this

y/nandquinnlovers Ofc, girl you’re just so jealous that Quinn not your husband right? He just about his wife, what’s wrong about that? Isn’t that what husband should do????

ethanblues She’s so fine

j__04 I just wish that i’m her

y/n.hughes43

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y/nhughes Just chillin’ and watching the sunset with my love

tagged: _quinnhughes

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y/dad/n Y/n your mom just got me puppy

y/n.hughes43 No way, i’ve beg you to get me a puppy since i was 13 and you said no pet allow in the home

y/mom/n Sorry baby, i just have to rescue this little fluffy baby golden retriever, someone abandon her on the middle of the road

y/n.hughes43 Can i name her Layla?

elblue6 ❤️

y/n.hughes43 ❤️❤️

_quinnhughes ❤️❤️❤️

_quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes Baby Hughes is 7 weeks now, see you in November mommy and daddy

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elblue6 Is Y/n have bad morning sickness?

_quinnhughes She is having a bad bad morning sickness, i just don’t know to help her feel better

elblue6 I’ll bring some decaf tea to help her sickness

_quinnhughes Thank u mom

jackhughes So cute already

lhughes_06 That baby will gonna look like Y/n, that would be so freaking cuteeee

_quinnhughes Ofc it’s gonna look like both of us Luke

y/n.hughes43

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y/n.hughes43 Good morning w.41 and 4 days left (!)

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_quinnhughes Things are def growing

trevorzegras Any name yet?

y/nhughesNo not yet, any ideas?

y/bf/n He’s gonna name its Trevor for sure, he told me yesterday 😂

y/n.hughes43 What if it’s was a girl? Trevor too

y/bf/n Yeass

y/u.hughes43 Oh hell nah

elblue6 I’m so excited to meet our first grandbaby!!!

_quinnhughes I’m so nervous and excited to be a dad

y/n.hughes43 You’re gonna be a best dad ever

jackhughes And me, i’m gonna be the greatest uncle

_quinnhughes

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_quinnhughes Welcome Quintessa May Y/l/n - Hughes, the latest Hughes edition is finally here. Y/n you’ve done a very very great job to bring our baby girl into this life, i’m so proud of you and will never forget all the stage of your pregancy. I will always love you and our baby girl unconditionally.

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elblue6 I always love the idea of Quintin and Quintessa since you tell me her name Y/n

_quinnhughes I love that name too, and Y/n she already chose name for next baby, its will be Quintina..

y/n.hughes43 She’s gonna be a daddy girl

_quinnhughes Don’t be jealous of your own little daughter

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quintin hughes imagines #quintin hughes #quintin hughes x reader #quintin x y/n #maryhughes stuff

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little-worm-grant · 5 months

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Marc's pov: Date Night

Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly

487 words / Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Post-show, Marc has set up a date night with Layla.

Promised Layla a night out after everything that went down with Harrow. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d done a date night. He felt a little guilt over that but he hoped he could make it up to her by showing her he was there now.

Marc didn’t have any reason to be so tense about getting ready. Found himself switching between clothes when none of them felt right. Couldn’t go in his usual garb right? He’d never usually cared about any of this, it was more Steven’s thing. The little Brit in his head jabbered on about going for a splash of more color but Marc just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Didn’t like the way the flashy shirts made him stand out in a crowd. The last thing he needed to be doing was bringing attention to himself.

It’s for Layla, insisted the voice. Marc rolled his eyes and tried on one more. A short-sleeved deep red flower pattern. Pulling it off his skin the second he saw himself in the mirror. Sure, it suited the guy in the reflection. Not him.

Steven complained as he pulled out some of his plainer interview clothes. Marc compromised with offering to let him pick the tie. Big mistake. Taking the white shirt and finding that didn’t make his skin crawl was his only comfort.

Don’t you dare grab that black one. At least wear one of my nicer ties! Nice to who?! The one he picked looked like the 90’s had vomited all over it. Greens, blues, purples and pinks splashed haphazardly all over. Marc got it around his neck and tied it into a simple knot. Letting it hang loose below the undone top button - much to Steven’s chagrin. Marc finally quirked his lip when he looked back in the mirror. “Nerd.” Oi! Heard that.

He went and got the flowers he’d brought earlier. Taped a bag of marshmallows around the stems. Needed his own little flair to the gesture Steven suggested. Chocolates wouldn’t do. Not for how amazing his wife had been throughout everything. Marc had seen what life was like without her. Thought it would have been better for her, but he should have known Layla was a force to be reckoned with.

Throwing his jacket on he was out the door and going to their meeting spot early. Found her waiting at the bar. Marc approached and took the space beside her. Catching eyes with the bartender and seeing they were busy serving someone else. He turned his attention to the gorgeous woman beside him. Drinking in the sight of her, a rise of his eyebrow.

“You probably get this a lot, but I’d do terrible things to spend a night with you.” Oh real smooth Marc, you want her to divorce you? “Mind if I join you? Had this for my date but… they’d be better in your hands I think.”

#marc spector #steven grant #layla el faouly #oscar isaac #may calamawy #moon knight #scarlet scarab #moon knight roleplay #open rp #open starter #layla x marc #moonscarab #marcs pov

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dreamsofminnie · 1 year

Text

“Ethereal Paintings”

20~ Corkscrew board of emotions☔️

Scaramouche x Reader Smau | Word count: 1.1k

It’s been hours sitting on the ground of your art studio, and all you’ve done is stare at those words last said.

‘A ruffian like you wouldn’t get the ways of art now anyways.’

She is talking about A.I art. Of course, she is.

What really was she plotting? What was the connection between her topic and the question followed with agreeance. Stretching your legs out, the makeshift corkboard you made from your canvas had your maniacal scribbles. Those are stuff from insane asylums— mostly cause your brain overthinks something then out-reasons it and crosses it out.

The investigation has only made its first large clue. The rest is so deeply uncovered in facades. You can’t even question anyone of them.

You lost that chance in your flurry of anger.

That thought made you frown deeply. They definitely know something. And they are deliberately hiding it from you. You don’t want that, even if it will hurt you, you would want to know the full story. Hiding a painful fact will only hurt you longer.

So you can only rely on yourself to dig this truth up.

—yourself and Layla’s cat that she delivered over at your studio door, plus some cat needs. She thought I would be lonely and go insane so she placed her cat in a box at the door and texted me that a gift was sent. You sent her a barrage of hugs and kisses in digital sticker form for the sweet gesture.

Illumi— the name Layla gave her cat from the word illuminate, was sitting in your lap while your hands raises and falls in gentle strokes to pat the cat. Something an evil villain would do– except you’re not the evil one here.

Maybe a little mean when you kicked your close friends out of your priv. But it was slightly deserved– for a girl on their period, not even half as mean.

“Aaaahgguu, illumi, you wouldn’t have some secret magic detection skills, would you?? I could really use some right now.” You boop the cat’s nose as she wiggled around in your lap.

“Think think. The class leader…bro..I already forgot her name. Tho it’s not like I’ll ever use it.” You snorted at yourself in an attempt to lighten your mood.

“Shitty class leader was discussing A.I art the whole time I would assume.. Then the topic of question was prob the same. Ignoring the reactions of people I saw, what kind of question would she ask?” Jotting down the words you spoke, your handwriting was much neater compared to your previous overthinking jumbles.

“Who likes Art? Who still pursues art? Who has seen the A.I art that won the blah award? Mmmh.. Who uses A.I art?” Lining up the questions, you column them and begin to bullet point if the questions would be possible.

Who likes art?

•So bland.

•Everyone did in your class

Who still pursues art?

•Half of the reunion did but the raised hands were less than half

•Ayaka did but she avoided her hand being raised

Who has seen the A.I art that won the Art award?

•Pretty interesting question and is very possible

•Except Ayato would most likely have seen that but he didn’t have his hand raised either

•Could be this question but a tad different

Who uses A.I art?

•Possib—

“What!! Why did I write this?!?? Even if less than half the reunion raised their hand, that's still one handful of people who then supposedly uses A.i art!! Absurd!!” You cross out the question hastily with a thumping heart while your brain pumps out more insecurities.

“Scaramouche… why has your hand raised.. Can you please send my brainwaves an answer? Please..” Giving up your body to gravity you fall to your side and curl up with illumi tucked in your arms.

Haven’t been resting much ever since you ran away from the shared dorm—which was in the evening at 5 pm, it is now the next day at 6 am–fatigue caressed your body into a deep slumber. The much-needed sleep from the heavy thinking all the night.

[☂️]

The sky dipped in a golden sunset with your energy refueled and filled with a meal from your small studio kitchen, you are ready to accept any truth at this point.

Rereading the bullet points you trace your finger over each point as if touching the words will give you a hint. Your digit stopped at the aggressively crossed-out question.

You let out a somber exhale and rewrote it underneath. “Who uses A.I art…”

Logically, many people do. You can’t stop them from being curious and testing it out.

Maybe that’s what Scaramouche did.

Or maybe that’s what you would like to believe.

‘Uses’ is hardly a term for ‘testing/tried using’

Before you assume he is too above using that– in your own delusioned vision of him, you needed evidence. And you hoped you can keep your illusion of his art purity.

Taking out your phone you knew a proper aspect of digging this up. Through Twitter right? Yes, though the method of stalking follows and following in an account.

“His account follows both of mine..”

@Scaramouche follows @Pecaeartist & @Ynnotanartmajr

“Wait. I- I felt a sense of deja vu when I first got Scara’s Twitter. He commissioned me many times!” Rapidly scrolling through your dm’s on your art account, you see Scaramouche’s account glaring right at you. Nervously you open it up and see the past messages he has sent.

“He commissioned me 4 separate times….” Your body wasn't sure if your heart should be fluttering or wringing itself in despair.

“I’ll feel terrible if I use this as my proof..” The beart you held took the sad route and exited the messages.

“My loyal commissioner…huh” You chose to ponder over this and got up from the chair you were lounging in. Walking over to the glass wall that was your large window in the loft-like studio, you sat on the carpet and stared outside to the darkening sky.

“Scara commissioned me the most… If. If he, used. My kindness to– Does he have an A.I art account. Only assuming, haa, that would be the only reason to have one at his study level. Many A.I users take the fame in posting such atrocities. Right. I need to find it. And if I can’t…he is pure from that taint.” The insanity couldn’t be withheld anymore, you were losing it.

“Scara…I want to trust you. I believe that you wouldn’t do this to me.”

Getting up from the floor, you looked at your own conflicted reflection–one last time–before you descended into unwithdrawaled grief.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Synopsis{2}-> Many study dates and flirting over weeks drew you both close. Awkwardness still drew a line between you both but it was enough for a start. Admiring him from the sidelines wasn't enough, however, pieces of the false facade start to shred; and fate has ways of twisting your heartstrings — Is he really– …

• Annnnnddd!! That’s a wrap for the 2nd season of the Smau!!! Vacation time🤩

• Thank you for staying all this time💜🥺

• Next season will be juisy

//Taglist//

@akagism2 @pokidot @feiherp @kyouzki @rmiyuki @infe-risk0 @sakurapeach @bluebelony @kichiyoshi @mikctp @kur44pika @cupids-chamber @crucnhice @neigesprincess @scaramoo @gojoandelsalovechilde @childeslegstrap @sakiimeo @d4y-dr3am3r @m3gitsune @scarletttcroww @sashiette @beriiov @rizakari @xiaossocksniffer @lxry-chxn @bryai003 @eunchaeluvr @goj0h @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @sketcheeee @ozzierenato @ohmyfinggod @kiyomi-hoku @hutaosbootao @yxcade

#astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin fic #genshin x reader #genshin smau #text fic #genshin impact smau #genshin screenshots #genshin x y/n #genshin scara #scara smau #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scara x y/n #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #genshin scaramouche #scara x you #scara x reader

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damn-stark · 1 year

Text

Chapter 1 Wolf

Chapter 1 of Moon Star

A/N- I finally finished the first chapter! I really hope you guys like it!!!

Warning- Violence, talks of blood and weapon, angst, surprise guest, swearing.

Pairing- Marc Spector x daughter!reader

Episode- 1x02

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

“Y/N Spector!”

A crowd of students cheer, a small handful hollar from excitement while the crowd booms with clapter. It’s not everyday one graduates from High School after all. It’s a one time special event.

Which is why such an event should be celebrated, it’s meant to be a joyful filled moment; it is for some. It should be remembered. Especially by a father with only one child who he said he loved with every bit of his heart.

Shouldn’t he be here?

As your eyes searched every row of happy relatives, once, twice and three times while you walked down the runway, he wasn’t there. Layla, his wife is there with a smile on her face, your grandfather is there beside her clapping and grinning a happy toothy grin, but he isn’t.

When you take the diploma and begin heading down you double check, hope that you may have missed him in the sea of people. Sometimes he did like to lurk in the shadows. But….when you step down, reality sets, illusions fall. After all the promises, all the tender words, all the caring, it all amounts to nothing at this moment.

“Your father is ungrateful. He’s a bad man who does bad things. Wolfie, he doesn’t care, but I do. I love you.”

——

*SOME TIME LATER. NEW YORK*

A proud smirk tugs on your lips as you see the artifact in your hand gleam gold under the colorful lights flashing overhead.

Another successful grab.

“Item secured,” you talk through the mic hidden in your ear. “I’m on my way, start the car.” You shove the artifact in your bag and quicken your stride as you see the back door approaching.

You approach it and push the door open, but as the door gets thrown back you come face to face with four men dressed in fancy suits.

Fuck.

Just don’t panic. Smile and act normal.

“Pardon,” you mumble and try to walk past them, but one of them steps in your way and grabs your arm to yank you towards him. “Excuse—get your hands off me,” you sneer and knee his crotch before you use your bracelet to zap his neck.

The man lets you go right away and groans and grunts out in pain, letting you turn to return inside even as the three men chase after you.

“I’m…compromised,” you say in your mic between pants whilst you turn the hall and push past people. “Turn at 22nd ave.”

“Shit watch it!” Someone yells out.

You throw your hand out to apologize and don’t bother to look back as you turn a sharp right to head towards the elevators.

“Shit, y/n, what the hell happened?” Layla responds. “How many?”

You peer back and hear the commotion of hurried footsteps so you slam on the elevator button with desperation.

“Four. But I took one down, so three. I’ll lose them.” You assure her and keep slamming your fist on the button, but to no avail. “Fuck. Damn it. Damn it!”

What kind of fancy building doesn’t have working elevators!

You snap your head from side to side until you see emergency stairs at the end of the other hall. So you quickly proceed to break into a sprint, having to swerve to the side so as to miss hitting some passersby.

When you reach the stairs though, the three men catch up to you. One tries to pull you back, but you throw your elbow back and hit his nose, before pulling out a dagger hidden in your bracelet to stab another man's arm before throwing the door open and rushing up the stairs.

The three men keep following you nevertheless.

“Come here if you know what’s good for you, you little rat!” One of them yells from below the stairs.

You glance down and see the three down one flight of stairs. Damn.

“Y/N where are you now?” Layla comes in through the mic again. “If you don’t respond in thirty seconds I am going up there I don’t care what you want.”

You try to quicken your pace up the damn stairs and talk back between heavier pants. “Running up the stairs, thanking you for dragging me on morning jogs. I’ll be going radio silent until I reach the car. Bye.”

“No! Y/N! Wolf! Wolfie! Don’t you dare—!”

You lift your hand to your ear and turn off the mic in your ear even after Layla’s protest, ending up grinning as you reach the top of the stairs and see the exit.

Finally!

You shove the door open and in that instant see two more fucking men!

Yet you don’t let that bring you down, instead you slowly begin to grin at them. “Gentlemen,” you greet. “I was just coming out for a smoke in the silence.”

One of the men on the right scoffs and pierces his green eyes on you. “Hand it over gently and we won’t have to hurt you, girl,” he spats.

You blink repeatedly and touch your chest. “Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I came out here to smoke.” You step to the side and the men follow your step. “Now if you don’t mind please leave me alone.”

The second man to the left rolls his eyes in annoyance, and the three men who were chasing you finally catch up, all breathing very heavily.

“Her bag,” one of them groans. “It’s in her bag.”

You sigh and slowly lose your smile. The first man reaches over, but you grab his wrist in time and manage to just slightly turn him whilst you kick the second guy in the chest to knock the air out of him. You then lunge forward and proceed to use a small blade in your ring to swing it from the first man’s cheekbone to his eye, making him scream and stumble back.

The men behind you try to reach you, but you turn and slam the door shut on one man’s hand.

“Okay,” you whisper in panic and rummage through your bag until you pull out a small gadget that you stick on the knob that surrounds the metal in electricity so they wouldn’t touch it. “Perfect.” You smirk and turn to head towards the fire escape.

But of course just as you reach it the man who you knocked out at first is climbing up them. You turn to try and your luck back inside, but the men find a way through your gadget and begin to come at you with their guns now.

“Great,” you breathe out and stand in the middle. “Look,” you address all of them. “I promise I’m not worth all this trouble, I have nothing.”

“Why are you running then?” The man climbing out of the fire escape asks.

You peer over at him and acted frightened. “Because you’re after me. All of you, four scary man after me, a woman.” You feign a frown and force tears to your eyes. “I’m just scared.”

One of the men that comes from inside the building slowly begins to lower his gun. And you think it’s because somehow your shitty acting got to him, but when you hear a thud behind you, you look back and see…Spider-Man turning away from the man he just trapped on the floor with his web.

Spider-Man. Fucking Spider-man, it’s—he’s actually not so tall, he has more muscle than the pictures do justice—no, focus. Get out of here.

“Please—” however, before you can finish asking for help his arms suddenly wrap around you, and he rapidly swings you around to save you from the bullets.

“Oh my god,” you pant and grab onto his arms.

No matter how many dangerous situations you’ve been in, being shot at isn’t something you’ve gotten used to yet.

“Just hold on,” Spider-Man says in a very young voice, yet not so young to make you believe he’s a teen, he’s maybe a young adult. “Stay here, you’ll be okay,” he continues and slowly pulls away from you.

You meet his big white eyes and nod before you watch him turn and use his webs to pull one gun away from one man. He then uses that gun and swings it to hit the second man.

“Don’t you have something better than to pick on a girl half your size?”He says and you quietly take this time to turn around and head towards the fire escape.

As soon as you reach it you check back, and when you notice Spider-Man still fighting the men you quickly climb down.

“Layla,” you say after you turn on your mic.

“Y/N! Oh thank goodness! Where are you?!” Layla immediately responds.

To reach the ground quicker you instead you the ladders to slide down to the ground. “I’m on my way,” you let her know with a small smile.

Your feet touch the ground and just as you’re pulling away to finally leave the damned street, suddenly something sticky keeps your hand against the railing. When you look back you see a web.

“I can’t let you do that,” you hear Spider-Man say from behind you.

You let out a small sigh and look over your shoulder with a feigned hurt look. “Look, I’m not with them I promise. I just want to go home.”

Spider-Man begins to walk over to you, and you follow every step he takes. “That’s why they were chasing you with guns?” He retorts with a bit of snark in his tone.

You keep taking your innocence nevertheless. “Yeah, they wanted to hurt me. I managed to run away, but they kept chasing me.”

Spider-Man makes it in front of you and his white bug eyes narrow. “So if I check your bag now there would be nothing in there.”

You shrug. “Unless you’re, like, into pads and stuff like that then no.”

Spider-Man scoffs in amusement and takes a step toward you, and you tilt your head.

“Can I say,” you continue whilst you slowly smile. “I’m a big fan. I’ve been one since your early days when you’d wear….sweats.”

He huffs. “Look,” he says as he drops his head. “I’m going to make it simple since you look like a…nice girl.” He faces you again. “Give me what you stole and I will let you go. Simple.”

You narrow your glare and check him out, catching the gadget where his webs come out of, and meeting his eyes again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you continue to act dumb and watch him get very close. “Let me go, my mom is waiting for me, she'll begin to worry.” Layla wasn’t your real mother but he didn’t need to know that.

“Okay,” he sighs and tilts his head just sligtly. “Show me that you don’t have what you stole and I’ll walk you to your mom.”

“Promise?” You ask sweetly and bat your eyelashes.

Spider-Man blinks and you see his Adam’s apple lift and slide back down. He then nods and pretends to reach for your bag, but you turn rapidly and use the blade in your ring and manage to cut the web to free your hand. Spider-man tries to retaliate by trapping you again, but as he throws out his hand to shoot his web, you throw your blade from your bracelet and just barely manage to hit his web gadget and disable it with electricity.

“What the…” Spider-Man gasps in disbelief and looks at you and his gadget with bewilderment.

You quickly rush him and try to kick his chest, but he manages to grab your foot. “Not so fast.”

You hold his gaze and smirk at him before you yank your foot back, and counterattack by kicking him back before you lunge forward and use a smoke gadget you had to paralyze him.

“Wow,” you say all giddy as you pick up your crescent snapped blade. “I took you down. That’s…” you sigh and turn to beam at him. “I, hm. Wow.”

Spider-Man coughs and his eyes widen. “No, yeah props to you, but you completely proved me right just now.”

You shrug sweetly. “Maybe I did,” you retort and begin to walk away. “Does that earn a name?”

Spider-Man tilts his head and shakes it. “No,” he says. “Beats the purpose of a secret identity.”

“Hm, worth the question,” you sigh and smirk at him. “One, the paralyzation will wear off in about ten minutes. Two, I don’t steal. They’ve already been stolen.” You scoff softly and pull out a piece of paper to jot down your number, as you walk to him you offer him a sweet smile before placing the paper on his hand he had stuck.

“Okay, thanks,” he whispers in disbelief. “That’s, uh, b-bold. What if I’m an old man?”

You shrug. “It’s okay, I’ll take the risk.” You wave at him and walk away from the alleyway. “Bye-bye now Spidey. Text me, maybe we can run into each other again someday.” You turn the corner and hear a distant response.

“Bye…I…bye.”

You grin slightly as you pull off the wig from your head and throw it aside, before you pull off your jacket and throw it in some trashcan as you stride down the street towards Layla.

Luckily you don’t get chased down by Spider-Man so you make it to the car safely. And once Layla sees you her eyes brighten and relief finally washes over her.

“Y/N, what the hell where have you been?” She asks as you open the car door.

You climb in and close the door before pulling the artifact out of your bag and showing it off to her with a very proud smile. “Got it, there were some snags along the way, like, Spider-Man, but I managed to take him down. Now drive before he finds us.”

Layla shifts to drive and blinks in disbelief before looking at you. “Excuse you did what?”

You meet her gaze and nod. “Yeah, no, I took down Spider-Man! With my paralyzation gas.” You show off.

Layla faces the street and hums. “That worked,” she mumbles in disbelief.

You nod and put the artifact back in your bag.

“Okay,” Layla sighs. “My turn.”

You blink and slightly narrow your gaze in confusion.

Layla glances at you before she hands you her phone. “Check the recently called list,” she says.

You carefully grab the phone and smile nervously before dropping your gaze to unlock the phone and checking what she said. The moment you see the recently called section your eyes widen, and a small gasp comes out of your lips.

“What,” you mumble. “This can’t be. He’s gone totally MIA. Are you sure?”

Layla nods. “No, yeah, I’m sure, it was him. His voice. He quickly hung up though. Can you maybe trace the call?”

You return your gaze to the phone and read the name again, Marc Spector.

Your dad. He called Layla his wife. After so long he finally called.

——

*LONDON*

“If I knew he was home we could’ve never left.” You mutter as you put your sunglasses on and hop on your scooter.

Layla puts on her helmet and adds, “we needed to go, I mean wasn’t it worth it? There’s only so much you can see of your campus online.”

You shrug. “I suppose but…” you start the engine. “You should’ve seen the virtual tour. It’s a lot better than they were six years ago. Besides,” you sigh. “Is it really smart to leave with my dad MIA?”

Layla looks over at you and shakes her head. “I told you when the time comes and if we still haven’t found your dad, he’s not yours to worry about.” She narrows her gaze and her serious demeanor doesn’t falter. “Do you understand y/n?”

No matter how much of a deadbeat he’s been, especially ever since you came back, he’s still your father, you’re still worried.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “I understand.”

Layla nods and looks ahead again. “Okay, let’s go.” She pushes back her kickstand and leads the way.

Fortunately there isn’t much traffic so you’re able to keep up without having to be cut off, or having to lose sight of her because people can’t respect those on motorcycles.

And futhermore, unlike New York, the sights you drive by are more enjoyable and more beautiful…

Then again maybe that’s just because you’re a bit bitter about leaving. Even if Layla and your grandfather say “it’s good for you wolf, you’re going to gain a lot of new experiences.”.

It’s whatever. The far more enjoyable experiences are made by Layla’s side going on adventures. The great experiences are—

Suddenly out of nowhere Layla comes to a sudden halt and you’re forced to turn to the side to break so you wouldn’t crash into her. However, as your use your feet to come to a skidding stop you see your…your dad on the ground.

“Marc?” Layla asks in disbelief. “Where have you been?”

Said man pulls his arm away from his face and looks over at her. “Ar-ar—Layla?” He asks.

You pull your sunglasses off and lean forward. “Dad?”

Immediately your dad snaps his eyes towards you and furrows his eyebrows even deeper. “I—you—who are you?”

You share a confused look with Layla and then narrow your gaze back on him. “What are you on about?” You question him almost offendedly.

Your dad slowly begins to push himself to his feet and shakes his head as he looks behind him. “Something is after me. It was just behind me.”

You glance at the building but just see casual passerbyers minding their own business. No one comes running out, nor is there any screams.

“What are you talking about, Marc?” Layla asks.

He scoffs. “Just please help me get out of here. Please take me home.”

Layla shares one last puzzled look with you before she addresses your dad. “Get on. Let’s go y/n.”

You put your sunglasses back on and follow after her through the streets of London. It seems that she and your dad are having a conversation but due to your helmet and the air that keeps hitting you as you drive, you can’t hear shit. And she keeps looking away from her mirrors so you can’t read her lips either. All you have is expressions and she keeps the same angry and annoyed one since you found him.

He however is different. He looks scared and confused. Something strange to see on a man you thought was incredibly fearless. It’s like he’s in a state of anxiety by the looks of his tensed shoulders and widened eyes. He almost seems like a different person. More so when you speak to him once you finally make it to some apartment complex not far from home.

“Where the hell have you been, dad? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Your dad looks back at you and swallows thickly before he shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he stammers as he walks you two to the elevator shaft. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You clench your jaw and feel your eyes flicker away from him, whilst Layla shoots him a glare.

“Marc, what are you doing?” She scolds him.

Said man walks you inside and presses the button to his floor once you’re all inside. “Let’s just wait. Just wait,” he interjects nervously and stands at the far end of the elevator that's as far from both Layla and you.

He stands stiff, he just keeps stealing looks as if he’s actually confused. And you keep trying to avoid looking at him now so as to not get even more mad than you already were. It makes things awkward in the elevator and makes the ride quite uncomfortable and longer than it actually was.

Once the elevator comes to a halt it actually feels like you can breathe again. Yet your anger doesn’t subside. It only heightens as he walks you into an actual apartment that seems to have been occupied for quite some time, basing off all the damn clutter spread everywhere.

“Damn,” you mutter. “This place is a piece of junk.”

“Excuse me?” Your dad asks.

You scoff as you put your sunglasses away and look around at all the bookshelves, papers hung up against the wall, and finally land your eyes on a big fish tank that contains one single goldfish.

“Huh,” you interject beside Layla. “Cute.” You step back and continue to wander around, managing to catch your father muttering something.

“I just want my life back.”

You scoff in annoyance and just let Layla answer. “Yeah. I’m getting that.”

“No, no.” He interjects right away. “Sorry, I wasn’t talking to you, just talking to myself. Sort of.”

You come to a stop in front of a sand barrier that’s around the bed, and slowly look up and see chains and cuffs….

Disgusting.

“Wow,” you breathe out and squint your eyes to make sure those were actually cuffs. “Kinky are we?”

Footsteps approach, and as you glance back you see Layla and your father approaching—“uh, this is your flat, Marc?” She asks.

“Um, I’m Steven,” he corrects her, making you briefly narrow your eyes before you turn and catch Layla finally seeing the same thing you did.

“Are you living here with someone else?” She demands to know.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he quickly assures her. “No, um, this is my mum’s flat.”

You look over at your dad and part your lips out of shock. “Grandma has a flat in London?”

He meets your gaze and stays quiet as he looks away more confused now. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums after a while.

Huh, she never mentioned.

You hum in response and move away.

“But,” he adds. “My mum never mentioned you. At all.”

You scoff. “What are you talking about?” You snap in annoyance. “You left me with them. Or what?” You begin to walk over to him and shoot him a pointed glare. “Did you take advantage of the five years I disappeared to actually erase me from your life?”

He stays quiet and begins fiddling with his fingers.

You wait for a response, for something but he just shakes his head.

“Right,” you scoff and shake your head. “I get it, dad,” you sneer and turn away to walk off and snoop somewhere else

“Marceline Desbordes-Valmore?” Layla thankfully interjects the silence.

They bond over the poem, whilst you find French and Hieroglyphic books on his overpiled desk.

“So, you’re learning French and hieroglyphics?” You ask as you pick up a book off the desk.

Layla walks over and overlooks the things you were looking at too.

“Yeah, well…that’s not that impressive, really. It’s not like hieroglyphs are a whole language,” your dad says as he walks over too. “It’s more like a…”

“Like an alphabet?” You finish saying for him as you put the book down. “Yeah. Layla told me.”

He glances at Layla behind you and then back at you to continue. “Yeah, and…well, you still have to know ancient Egyptian to read it.”

Yep learning that.

“Sure,” you scoff, and he doesn’t stop talking.

“For example, like this one here, right?” He points to an example.

You look over and recognize it thanks to Layla’s teachings. “Funeral rites,” you mention dryly.

“Well, someone knows their unilaterals. You.” He points, and you pass a weird look. “That’s amazing.” He says nervously.

You narrow your gaze and feel your lips flicker to weird frown, whilst Layla begins to chuckle.

“Sorry,” he immediately interjects as he looks over at Layla. “I don’t mean that in a creepy way to your daughter.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Layla says and meets his gaze. “I’m not buying this, Marc. Use whatever accent you want. Yeah. Come on, Wolf.” She begins to walk off, and you don’t hesitate to follow her without even as much considering your father—“let’s just get this over with. You sent these papers but you never signed them.” She grabs her bag and pulls out the divorce papers.

“Did I?” Your dad stammers. “Uh…”

Layla hands him the papers and he begins to search for something in his jacket.

“This is what you wanted,” she says as he ends up pulling out glasses you’ve never seen him wear before.

“Let’s have a look here,” he mumbles.

“After everything, you told me that we needed to move on,” Layla continues. “But I'm not forgetting y/n. We can be whatever you want Marc, I don't care, but I'm still going to be in her life.”

You smile faintly and watch as your father reads the papers he had sent her. “All right. Divo…Divorce?”

You further narrow your gaze and keep watching him.

“Yeah,” Layla nods. “Are we doing this or not?”

“I would never divorce you.” He retorts and just adds more confusion.

“What are you doing?” Layla snaps.

“Look, you both seem absolutely lovely,” your dad says and looks between the both of you. “Even with the snappy attitude…”

You smirk faintly at his comment and move back to the door to fold your arms over your chest.

“…This Marc, on the other hand, is a right twit, yeah?” He continues to say. “I don’t know how to explain what’s been happening. I don’t expect you to believe me. I honestly don’t really believe it myself, all I can do is try to…try to show you what I found.” He moves to the gym back on a small table. “I found this bag in the storage locker. And inside of it is all sorts…” he unzips the bag and begins to look through it. “…of things.”

You step closer and raise your head to look over his shoulder.

“Most interestingly…” he suddenly pauses and looks up and gets his eyes lost on nothing ahead of him.

“Most interestingly is what?” Layla queries.

You tilt your head and squint.

“Nothing,” he then deadpans.

“Nothing?” Layla retorts.

Once again your father faces her and repeats himself. “Nothing nevermind.”

Layla walks to him to press further. “What’s in there?”

You drop your arms and step forward.

“Nothing…wait—” he trails off as you shove him aside and rummage through the bag. Layla walks to your side and watches until you pull out a golden scarab.

“Is this?” You mumble and slowly face Layla. “Is this it?”

Layla’s eyes widen and she reaches over to grab it from your hand before glaring at your dad. “The scarab pointing to Ammit’s ushabti? What we fought side by side for.”

“No,” he mumbles.

“This whole one-man show is just what?” Layla argues. “So that you can keep it for yourself?”

You look at him up and down in disappointment and some confusion, but keep quiet since you’ve only recently been told about their adventures, you’ve only recently been involved thanks to Layla.

“No, no. I swear…” he tries to say but gets cut off by Layla.

“Wow. After all that we’ve been through—no, no just stop! I’m supposed to believe anything you say with this shoved in wh-what, a gym bag?”

You look back down at said bag and continue to rummage through in hopes you’d find something valuable. But it’s not there. You do end up finding something else though, an invitation and a pass to your graduation ceremony.

The envelope seal is open, but the papers inside are still straight and clean. As if it was untouched. As if he never debated going.

And this is where he shoved it, in this damn bag.

“Take it,” your father says to Layla. “Take it, you can have it. Take it, take it. I don’t want it. I don’t want it. I swear. Have it.”

Layla shakes her head and stays quiet.

“I am not Marc Spector,” he keeps insisting. “I’m Steven Grant…”

That’s not what his actual passport says. Or his birth certificate, or your years of actually knowing him.

“I work in a gift shop. Well, I used to work in a gift shop,” he says almost as if wants to cry. “And I think I’m in real danger, and I think maybe that you might be the only person that can help me….Please.”

You look up and keep staring at your father.

“You really don’t remember why we’ve been looking for this?” Layla asks, and your father shakes his head. “Our adventures. Or our life together?”

He shakes his head and mutters, “oh, God, I wish I could.”

He’s really committed to this Steven persona isn’t he?

Nevertheless, a knock raps on the door and a woman’s voice echoes from behind the door. “Steven Grant, can we have a word?”

Your fathers eyes widen out of panic. “See?” He points to the door. “Oh, God, they’ve come for me.”

You step towards the door and look over at him. “Why?” You ask.

“I vandalized a toilet.” He shares, and you snort quietly.

The knocking proceeds to continue and your father finally answers. “Yeah, just a minute!” He then begins slowly sneaking towards the door as the woman continues.

“Steven Grant?”

“Yeah?”

She hasn’t announced who she’s here in part of. No title, nothing.

“Wa—” you end up cutting yourself off as you feel Layla's hand on your arm to begin pulling you back.

“DC Fitzgerald and DC Kennedy here.”

You look around the room and point to the window.

“Yeah, yeah, one second.”

Layla sneaks over there and tries to avoid dropping any books piled on the floor as she pulls open the window as quietly as she can.

When it is opened, she waves you to climb out to the roof first before she follows once you carefully step to the side. As you’re on the roof, you look down and see it’s quite a fall so you grip onto the ledge of the roof and slowly climb higher up so Layla can grab onto the ledge too.

The moment you hear footeapes approach from the inside she pushes you back, and proceeds to press her back against the wall until you hear those same footsteps recede.

“You’re in possession of a stolen item,” you hear a man’s voice from the inside. It’s distant and barely audible thanks to the damn outside noise.

“I can barely hear,” you complain.

Layla huffs and puts her hand out so you can wait there as she carefully steps closer to the window to listen for the both of you. You try to step forward but your foot slips and you claw your nails in the wall so you wouldn't fall and drag Layla down with you.

“What are they—”

You’re shused again but this time she only stays quiet for a few minutes before she looks back at you slightly panicked. “They’re taking him.”

You gasp softly. “What?”

Layla presses her ear close to the window and waves you over as she begins to slowly walk back to the window. You follow in tow and jump back inside, but accidently knock down a pile of your fathers many books.

“Oh, shit,” you sneer.

Layla walks to the door and assures you over her shoulder, “it’s okay they’re not here anymore. But we’ll lose them if we don’t follow.”

You nod and make it out of the house to return to your scooters.

“Do you believe him?” You ask Layla as you’re in the elevator.

Layla pulls out the scarab and sighs as she shrugs. “I don’t know what to believe. Part of me does because he actually sounds so convincing, but as I look at this I contradict that belief. You?” She asks as she glances at you.

You let out a deep breath and shrug. “I don’t know, really. I find his behavior weird but….he’s left me before, so it’s hard to believe him and not think of this as some sort of trick to push me away again. On the other hand I’m trying not to let my anger blind me, I’m trying not to let my grandma's voice get to me, I want to believe him, so I don’t know,” you scoff and drop your head.

Layla places her hand on your shoulder and gently squeezes it as the elevator doors open. “You have every right to be angry. We’ll try and figure him out after we help him.”

You nod and don’t add anything, you just walk out and catch a man and a woman walking your father out of the building. They get in some black four door car. You follow but make sure to keep your distance so they wouldn't see.

And while you drove you couldn’t help but think about Layla, how you used to be angry because you were afraid she’d steal your father away. You used to be jealous of her. You’d actively wish for their downfall, you were cruel, but….after coming back she was there and he wasn’t.

Every bit of life changed, it was overwhelming and he was never there, but she was, she was always there even if she had no actual reason to. So now you can’t imagine life without her. She’s like the mother you never got to have. So part of the reason why you’re actually in search of the deadbeat is because of her, because she gives you hope and tries to sway you to look at Marc differently, not in the way your grandmother tried to make you see him. It’s because of her that you’re now following his kidnappers to some far lively residential area.

“It’s very…” you comment as you look around at all the people, at the goat passing by. “Lively.”

Layla looks back and nods stiffly. “I’ll say.”

“Should we…” you look away from the goat and keep looking ahead. “Just go inside or something?”

“There,” Layla points. You follow her finger and see the man and the woman that had taken your father. “That’s them.” Confirming that they weren’t actually any kind of authority.

You scoff. “But…he’s not with them.” You look away and catch some people walking into some old brick building at the end of the pathway.

“What even is this place?” Layla mutters.

You shrug. “Who knows,” you sigh. “But look, there. People are going in there.”

“Let’s have a look.” She says and quickens her pace.

As you follow her inside you see more people inside, they’re all doing their own thing; watching things, eating, talking. It’s like a community, this whole place. It’s…cute. Yet you don’t see your father, nor do you take the obvious straight path further inside the rundown building, you follow Layla around the hall and listen to the distant voices that become less muffled the closer you get to the other side.

“…I kinda draw a line there, at child murder…”

Your eyes brighten at the sound of his voice. His new accent.

However, the voices turn quieter, muffled, and then louder again.

“I need to know, where is the scarab?”

Oh shit. That’s a new voice.

“Where is the scarab?” The manly voice asks again to who you most likely assume is your father.

Layla catches the sound of the demands and begins to quicken her pace. You follow and notice people in the hall the closer you get.

“Where is the scarab?”

“No.”

“Where is the scarab?” The mysterious man asks again.

As the archway comes to view, Layla rounds the corner and announces herself quickly. “I have it.”

When you round the corner, you see those same peaceful people gathered around your father, and see an older man with hair a bit above his shoulder and a cane in his hand in front of him.

“You couldn’t possibly understand the value of what you’re holding,” the man directs at Layla.

You clench your fists to be ready for anything, and meet your fathers gaze, noticing that he actually seems relieved to see you this time.

“Let me have that, I’ll keep it safe.” The man continues. And as you walk closer to your father people begin to crowd around you too.

“Summon the suit,” Layla instructs your father. And for the first time since you found out about this, time stealing god, you actually agree with Layla.

“S-sorry, what?” He queries.

Layla and you both look at him and she repeats herself. “Summon the suit.”

People begin to get closer and inch closer to Layla as you keep your eyes on the people.

“Summon the soup?” He asks in confusion. “What are you saying?”

Oh wow.

“The suit,” you sneer as you look back. “Your suit. Summon it!”

He meets your gaze with more confusion and shakes his head. “The suit?”

Layla presses the scarab against him and adds, “and keep this safe.” She turns and the man finally gives up.

“So be it,” he says, causing Layla to break into a run.

You quickly follow, and your father does but grabs onto her as if he’s scared.

Men try to stop her from taking your father but she shoves them away and leads the way up the stairs. She makes it to the runway, but you come to a quick halt as a man cuts off your fathers path. And rather than fighting him off, your dad grabs your arm and pulls you away.

“What are you doing?” You snap and let him pull you up some stairs.

He doesn’t answer though because you then reach the top of the stairs and see Layla fighting off some man before she throws him off the stairs. Your father looks down at the man as he crashes down a wooden surface, and follows your line of gaze over to the old man chanting something as he has his cane pressed against the ground, causing it to crack.

Layla proceeds to run over to grab your father to pull him with her.

“That was awesome,” he compliments her. You follow her up more stairs and run down messy halls until you all finally reach some kind of storage room.

“Here. Bold the door,” Layla instructs your dad, whilst you gasp as you see all the sarcophagus in the room.

“This is all a whole lot of bad luck,” you mumble as you proceed to look for a way out.

“Oh my god,” your dad gasps. “I’m going to die in an evil magicians man cave,” he panics, making Layla approach him, and for you to watch him with a puzzled look.

“No, no. Hey. Listen to me. Listen to me,” Layla tries to calm him down as she grabs his hands. “Your name is Marc. There’s a suit. I’ve seen you wear it. You bring it out.”

“No.” He shakes his head.

You scoff and roll your eyes before you step towards him to try and snap him out of this weird persona. “Dad, where are you? We need you to fight.”

He keeps shaking his head and sounds more distressed. “No, no. I can’t. Stop, please the three of you. Please, stop!”

You blink in disbelief, but fight off your confusion and slight fear of this new reaction of his and pull his arms towards you so he can look at you. “Listen to me. Your name is Marc Spector.”

He looks away but you grab his face and pull him back.

“Your name is Marc. You’re my dad, you’re Layla’s husband. You have a weird suit that I hate, but you need to bring it out! Dad!”

He keeps looking away, and more sweat gleams his face. Layla then joins in to try and get him to snap out of it too. “Where the hell are you? You need to fight!”

“Dad—”

“Stop, stop. leave me alone, the three of you! No.”

You kneel down and continue as you grab his arms.

“Hey, look at me you—”

“No,” he snaps at you. “No! Do you not understand I am not Marc! I’m not your dad! You’re wrong, you’re mistaken, I’m not your dad. You’re not my daughter!”

You go rigid and feel your breath catch as you blink in disbelief. He pushes your hands off him and drops his head again.

He’s been absent, you’ve been angry, but you still held onto hope. You foolishly still cherished your past memories even with all the stuff your grandmother would say, you never let her poison you. Even with all your anger you still did love him. More than anyone. But hearing him say those words now, hearing him yell them out begins to darken all that good stuff you still carried.

It’s like you could hear your heart cracking inside. Everything’s so quiet, so bleak.

“Y/N, listen to me he didn't mean it,” Layla tries to excuse him again. She always did that.

“I,” you breathe out and meet her gaze. “I don’t care,” you deadpan even if tears cloud your eyes, even if you feel like sobbing and screaming, even if you want to curl up in a ball.

You stand up and step away from the pair to look for a way out.

“You can do this, I promise!” Layla tries to comfort him now. Marc. Steven whoever the hell he goes by. “Steven…”

“I can’t,” he whispers. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Of course he can’t. No surprise.

You scoff and turn away to run over and check the windows.

“I can’t. I can’t do it.”

“It’s alright,” Layla continues to comfort him. “It’s all right. Okay. We’ll just find another way.”

Layla then joins you and tries to search with you. However he doesn’t follow, he stays and continues to panic, this time he spews out nonsense as the doors get barged open.

“Jackal. Jackal. Jackal!”

You look over but see nothing. “What jackal?” You ask and then look over at him as he steps back and keeps pointing at nothing.

“Jackal. Jackal…” he then trails off as he suddenly gets shoved out the window.

Without thinking you gasp and rush over to the broken window. “No,” you yell.

But once you look over you see him land perfectly, like, in a weird hero pose.

“Is he okay?” Layla asks.

You nod and sigh in relief. “Yep. He just…landed.” You remember your anger and betrayal and look away to continue finding a way out for yourself, not for him.

Thankfully, Layla finds a fire escape and you climb down on the side of the building. Now albeit, Layla wants to find Marc, so you stick with her.

And luckily as you were going to walk out of the alleyway, Marc comes crashing through another wall. This time he’s dressed differently though. You’ve seen his suit before, it’s quite cool if you should admit, but this one doesn’t have a cape, there’s no gold crescent moon on his chest, no hood. He’s just in a suit. A plain white suit.

Regardless, he quickly finds his footing and proceeds to tear a bumper off a car.

“You look different,” Layla stammers seconds before Marc gets pushed to the floor and then gets pulled back. You would’ve questioned it, the invisible jackal, but there's really no need. It all must be a part of how he has his powers. It’s inconvenient though, not being able to see whatever is attacking and shoving Marc to cars.

“Stay away from me!” Marc yells as Layla tries to approach him.

“Away from what?!” She exclaims before she gets shoved back to the ground.

“Layla!” You exclaim and run over to her.

Marc keeps getting attacked, he begins to get pulled off the ground and seems to be getting choked, not letting Layla accept your offer to help her off the ground because she quickly insists on grabbing a bottle by your feet to throw it at whatever has Marc held up against the car.

When the bottle crashes, the liquid within creates a silhouette of a jaw opening as the monster roars.

Layla proceeds to try and attack it, but it suddenly grabs her too and shoves her and Marc back.

“Fuck,” you murmur and pull your braclet apart to get ahold of your daggers. The monster seems to see your action as he lets the pair go because he growls your way; you feel it’s breath on your face, but don’t see it. So you don’t let it intimidate you. Instead you sprint towards it, but miss hitting anything, instead it continues to push Marc back again.

“Fuck you,” you grimace in annoyance before you pull your arm up and throw your hand down, managing to finally stab some flesh. However, the monster quickly retaliates and hits you back so hard you hit the ground.

You try to quickly push yourself to your feet, but suddenly something cold wraps around your ankles before it drags you back, making you scream.

“Y/N!” Layla yells and tries to fight it off, but it just shoves her back since she can’t see what his position is exactly.

“Get off!” You yell and twist around to begin kicking it. The monster then proceeds to pick you off the ground though and dangles you off the ground with ease. You try to continue kicking it, you try to reach for something in your pockets, but Marc then rushes over with something and hits it before Layla comes over too and stabs it with a dagger you dropped.

Just as it drops you though, it hits Marc and tries to hit Layla but she slides her feet back and dodges.

“Are you okay?” You mutter to Layla in between pants.

She nods and meets your gaze. “You?”

You nod and take back your daggers. “Yep, just trying to figure this invisible thing out.”

“I think I can. Get away from them, you,” Marc shouts, causing you to look over to see him prancing around and taunting it. “Yeah, I see you, you plug-ugly coyote. You’re in the wrongs ends, mate. You’re in my yard now.” He pulls his suit jacket off and throws it on the ground. “Yeah, come on. Come on. That’s right. Come on.”

You stand up to your feet and slightly narrow your gaze as you watch Marc slowly going back into the busy street.

“Ooh, lookie here. Lookie here. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, my name is Steven with a V. Oh, my God. Here you come, come on!” He shouts before he swings arm.

“Did he hit it?” You mumble and pat your pockets to try and find your gadgets.

Layla shrugs. “I don’t know, maybe?”

“Wagwan!” Marc exclaims. “I did it! You got planted!” He laughs as he points ahead of him. “Layla! Girls! Did you see that?”

You narrow your gaze and pull out a paralyzing agent. You don’t intend to answer, just smile awkwardly, but then Marc gets thrown back towards the street, causing traffic to stop, and people to finally gawk.

“I just need to see it,” you mumble and slowly begin to sneak forward towards the spot Marc got hit. “And I can hit.” Since this place is a residential area you don’t bother to get out any explosives as small as they are.

Then again if it gets in the right position you can throw it in his mouth, or Marc can since he sees it.

That’s a smart idea.

“Okay, Layla, let’s go towards it,” you say even if you don’t bother to stop and let her contradict.

She wasn’t of course, but you still gave her no time to argue before you quickened your pace to run to the street.

And just as you’re going to go near Marc as he keeps getting slammed against the bus, you stop as a car comes rushing forward. Marc steps back albeit and it’s possible that he pushes the monster in front of the car to get it run over. You can't really tell since he gets thrown back, but the car didn't seem like it hit him so he couldn’t have made such a big dent.

Regardless you still can’t help but be worried as he doesn’t move. “Hey,” you call out. “Are you—” you cut yourself as you see him beginning to push himself up, he then looks behind him and when you follow his line of gaze, you just see people getting pushed back. That’s it.

The corner of your lips tug to a slight before you break into a sprint towards it.

“Y/N, no, stop!” You hear Layla yell, but you ignore her.

Once you reach the spot people are getting pushed at by nothing, you activate the paralyzing agent and slam it against a big spot that’s between the people. And luckily the monster roars out, you can once again feel its breath and hear it in front of you, but it doesn’t move…

It doesn’t hit you, you don’t feel dry and cold skin slap across your face, or feel it grab your feet. It works again.

It works!

Before the paralyzing agent can wear off, you pull out your dagger and stab its flesh. It roars again so you pull out the small explosive and try to throw it towards where you feel its breath, and feel its spit come out as it roars. But before you can even activate the gadget something cold suddenly wraps around your throat. It lifts you off the ground and moves forwards to slam your back against a brick wall.

You groan and feel sharp pain radiate from your back and the back of your head. It continues to squeeze your throat, blocking out the air that came through, making you begin to gasp and hit at its arms, causing your eyesight to blur and the sounds around you to sound muffled with how fast your heart was racing.

Layla calls out for you, you can hear the muffled sound of your name, but you don’t see her or feel this thing let you go. You try to reach for something to hit it with in the meanwhile, but it slams you against the wall again.

Just as it seems like it might take you out, suddenly it roars before its grip slips off your throat and makes you hit the floor, letting you finally breathe in air again with every deep gasp.

“Hey, hey,” you hear clearer now and recognize that deep voice. “You’re okay. You’re good.”

You rub your throat and look up to see Marc in the old suit now.

“Wolf,” he says without an accent and makes you stare at him in confusion. “You’re okay. You did good.” He grabs your arm to try and help you up, but even if you can breathe again because of him, even if he calls you those names that have a way to reassure you, at the sound of his actual normal voice you grow angry again and rip your arm out of his grip to help yourself up.

Before he can say anything in the respect, the monster roars again.

“Get it out of here!” Layla instructs, and without a second of hesitation Marc runs away and you assume the monster does too, letting Layla and you return to your scooters.

Yet before you can even make it far on your scooters, both Layla and you stop as you see the same older gentleman from before talking to a man.

“I’m sorry, but that belongs to me.”

You can’t see what it is he wants from the man, but you assume it’s the scarab since he’s wasting his time trying to convince the man to hand it over.

“I can offer you food, clothing, but I am unable to offer you this. Thank you.” The older gentleman then grabs the man’s hand as he continues to speak. “I wish you could live to see the world we make.” Then the man's body gets pulled up for a few seconds before he just drops…

The older gentleman lifts the scarab you now see in his hand and looks at it for a few seconds, before he looks over and catches Layla and you staring.

And it’s at that moment that his eyes land on you that Layla drives off, and you follow her home since Marc handled the monster and Layla assumes he wouldn't go home since he knew that’s where you’d find him.

——

*LATER*

“…and if that man has the scarab that means he’s going to go to Ammit’s tomb,” Layla shares as she begins to pack a bag. “Khonshu doesn’t want that, he wants the scarab for himself too, so it means Marc is going there too. Which means we’re going there.”

You hum and stay quiet, you don’t agree or add anything on the matter, you stay sitting at the edge of her bed and just fiddle with your fingers.

Right away Layla notices your silence, she sees the way you’re sitting with your head down, and your back hunched and knows something is wrong.

“You should be packing,” she interjects.

You shake your head. “No,” you mumble. “I’m not going to Egypt with you. I’m going back home, back to Chicago. My grandpa is alone now, I’ll stay with him until I need to go to New York.” You sigh and lift your hand to pull off the gold crescent moon necklace that Marc had gifted you years ago.

“What, but I thought we were doing this together,” Layla argues, and you hear footsteps approaching. “I understand it might be dangerous, but you wanted to do this, don't let him stop you.”

You swallow thickly and sigh. “You heard him,” you mumble. “You heard what he said, I’m not going to go after someone who doesn’t care about me. If he doesn’t want to be a father anymore he doesn’t have to. I’m nineteen now, he has no legal obligation.” You stand up and try to storm off but Layla grabs your arm and turns you to face her.

“I don’t think it was him who said that,” she tries to argue in his defense. “I think that was someone else. Someone your dad didn’t talk to us about.”

You hold her gaze for a second all seriously before you chuckle and shake your head. “You expect me to believe that? He’s obviously lying, he’s making all that shit about being Steven Grant who doesn’t remember his past life, who has a completely new one to run from his old life. To run from me, from you.” You huff out of frustration and pull your arm away from her hand.

“So I’m done, I’m done trying to look for him, and trying to reconnect. He left me for a reason, Layla,” you mutter in a quivering voice. “I’ll respect it.” You turn to head to your room, but she stops you as you reach the door.

“For me then? Come to Egypt for me.” She continues to approach you, and you drop your head and groan. “I need your help. Your gadgets and your brains.”

She’s talking you up. Great.

“Egypt…” you pause and let out a deep breath. “Is a big place, how will you find him?”

Layla comes to a stop behind you, and you practically hear her smirk. “Maybe you have a way to find him?”

You do.

“I do,” you reveal with a slow cocky smirk tugging on your lips.

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filmbyjy · 2 years

Text

JAM OUT - fourty! never letting you go

synopsis > who knew you’d break the first rule of being in a friends with benefits relationship? maybe it was lee heeseung himself that made you catch feelings. either ways, he doesn’t do feelings and you knew that. as your relationship with heeseung strains so does the band. what happens then?

masterlist | previous | end | ERROR?¿

warning: lord why am I attempting to write smut. ahah but yeah there is smut below here. p-proceed with caution because it sucks☝️ now let me put the smut warnings: protected sex (BECAUSE WRAP IT UP WHORES), oral (receiving), please tell me if there is anything else. this is also a little self-indulgent bc LORD HAVE MERCY I WANT THAT MAN

word count: 2.8K words (when the sexy time is longer than the actual fic)

NOTE: so the sexy time is placed under the red border. this is just to inform those who don’t want to read the sexy time and they can stop reading there.

you were extremely excited for this trip. it was a very much due since well school was stressing you out and you needed a breather. obviously the school holidays was 2 days later but it was always fun to be a rebel and skip school.

"so are you guys ready?" heeseung asks. he turns to see yeji and jake arguing over the back seat.

"just cause you're sad, doesn't mean you can get the seat, jake." yeji yells.

"I DESERVE PITY SINCE SUNGHOON DIDN'T REMEMBER OUR KISS!" jake yells.

heeseung sighs. he takes out the luggages that were on the back seat.

"ladies, why don't you sit in the very back. the luggages will be next to jake and layla."

"oh doesn't that mean (name) will sit at the front with you?" ryujin asks. you faced heeseung, he blushes.

"well if she doesn't want to sit with me, she can sit at jake's place and jake can take the front seat."

"i'm perfectly fine with sitting in front." you say.

"great, then it's settled."

finally, you were on the road to the cabin. heeseung blasts some music and everyone in the car starts singing along. it takes about an hour or two to arrive at the cabin. somewhere along the journey, you had stopped at the grocery shop to buy some groceries and some meat for barbecuing. once it was done, you were on the road again.

the whole time, heeseung kept one of his hands holding yours and the other on the wheel. he squeezes it every now and then since he knows you have motion sickness. you couldn't stand travelling by car for more than an hour so heeseung was just making sure.

heeseung finally parks in the small lot that they had for the cabin. both you and heeseung left the car first.

"are you okay?" heeseung asks. you nod.

"yeah, i'm okay. just a little migraine but it's not much."

"i'll cook something for you. i'm sure you're just hungry." right on time, your tummy started growling. both you and heeseung laughed.

"is that another cabin connected to this one?" jake asks. heeseung unlocks the door with the keys.

"yeah, i asked for 2 cabins since there might not be enough rooms. i guess my dad's secretary just got one that is connected to each other and shares the same barbecue area." heeseung explains.

ryujin, yeji and jake stared at each other.

"I'M GETTING THE MASTER BEDROOM FIRST!" they yelled before running with their luggages into the cabin. layla runs behind them following jake into the house.

you and heeseung just shook your heads.

everyone settles to choose a room of their own. heeseung chooses the room next to yours. you smiled when you looked out the balcony, heeseung comes in and wraps his arms around your waist. he places his chin on your shoulder.

"mmm, i wish i could've held you sooner." heeseung pouts.

"well, you were busy fucking around and breaking my heart." you say. heeseung huffs.

"i still have to make it up to you so to do so, i'll prepare you some food."

"ramyeon?" you asked. heeseung unhooks his arms from your waist.

"with spam." heeseung says whilst adding a wink before leaving to prepare the food. you chuckled. jake pops his head into your room.

"what did you two do?" jake smirks.

"nothing, jaeyun. we were just talking. he is just going to make me food too since i'm a little hungry right now."

"hungry for food or hungry for his dic-" you smacked jake's arm.

"food. he is making ramyeon."

"without me?" jake gasps, "what is this betrayal." jake stomps out of your room. you playfully rolled your eyes.

about 10 minutes later, you went to check up on heeseung. the doorbell rings and so you saw jake going up to see who it was. sunghoon appears seconds later with jay and sunoo. they rolled in their luggage and the two youngest ones. jay simply just needed to travel back later to pick them up.

"have you bought groceries?" jay asks. both you and heeseung pointed to bags on the counter before continuing slurping on ramyeon. jay inspects them. he takes note of what to buy later on.

"i'll go pick up the kids now. enjoy your time." jay says. both you and heeseung hummed.

"why does he look like an uncle." you asked heeseung.

"he purposely dressed like this because he wants to take photos to fool married women."

"are you being for real?"

"the first part is the truth, i'm kidding about the second part. that's just how jay dresses up during holidays. he's dressed like a dad because he starts acting like one during trips like this." heeseung explains.

"soooo you're saying jay dilf agenda is real?" heeseung cocks his brow.

"what's with you and jay being a dilf agenda. do you like jay or something?" you giggled.

"why are you jealous?" you teased.

"yes. i am jealous." heeseung says. you gasped.

"you admitted to it."

"because my woman is talking about another man in a inappropriate way."

"your woman? since when was i your woman, mr.lee." you sat closer to him. he smirks.

"since i first laid my eyes on you." heeseung flirtatiously says. the both of you fell into a trance, just staring at each other before leaning in and kissing.

it was a fast and messy kiss, heeseung's lips practically devouring yours. it had been a while since he had kissed you so you missed this feeling. you missed him, in more ways than one. his arms reach out to cup your left cheek (ON THE FACE NOT ASS, though heeseung was very much tempted but i won't say anything). he deepens the kiss even more.

you pulled away quickly since you heard footsteps coming into the kitchen. you moved back your stool and pretended nothing happened. heeseung chuckles, he steals a small peck on your cheeks before the person entered the kitchen.

it was sunghoon and jake, they chatted with you and heeseung for a while and they didn't suspect anything weird happened so you were happy about that.

it was about 4pm, everyone had settled in and unpacked their things. each doing their own respective things, whether it being together or alone. heeseung decided to step out and sit at the lake nearby. you had put on your swimsuit knowing heeseung would probably shove you in playfully. that's just how he was.

you tugged on your jacket, it was a little cool outside. heeseung dips his feet into the water, enjoying how warm it was compared to the cool air surrounding him. you sat beside him, dipping your foot into the water too.

"(name)?"

you hummed, "yeah?"

"i know we are remaining as friends for now but friends don't really makeout in the middle of the kitchen."

"that's true." you turned to look at heeseung.

"so what are we?" heeseung asks. you giggled.

"i don't know."

"oh come on (name)." heeseung pouts.

"we said we'd take it slow but we already crossed the line by making out like we did before when we were friends with benefits."

"mhm..."

"heeseung, do you get what i'm saying?"

"umm, that you want to start that kind of relationship again?" you smacked his arm.

"no!"

"i'm kidding." he laughs, "yang (name), will you be my girlfriend?"

"yes, lee heeseung." you say.

"what was that?" heeseung teases.

"YES, LEE HEESEUNG!! I'LL BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!"

"great." he says before he shoves you into the lake. you gasp.

"GET IN HERE, YOU GIANT FUCK." you yelled. heeseung tries to run away while you splashed water on him. you spot jungwon. "JUNGWON, PUSH HEESEUNG IN THE WATER NOW!"

"with pleasure." jungwon smirks and pushes heeseung into the lake. heeseung flails in the water, shocked that jungwon actually managed to shove him inside. "you messed with the yang siblings, hyung."

heeseung's jaw drops, "y-you called me hyung! BABE, HE CALLED ME HYUNG!!!" heeseung hugs you.

shortly after, the rest of them decided to join in. it was about 6pm, everyone gets back to take a shower. jay starts getting ready for the barbecue. everyone gathers around the campfire that jake had set up. it felt good. you felt great, it had been a while since you ever felt this complete.

a hand grazes your waist, it pulls you out of your trance. heeseung places a peck on your cheek. he smiles at you. you smiled back before cuddling with him.

this was right. the man you grew up with. your first love. your first sexual partner, the man who took your virginity. you couldn't have felt more happier.

the end-

HAH kidding, you really thought i was gonna end it there? i'm just getting started. now this part, is umm i tried. so enjoy the sexy time...GOD OKAY SOFT ME IS GONE NOW PEACE!

after the little barbecue party, everyone had gone into their respective rooms. jake and sunghoon were last seen flirting (they drank so yeah). it was a little awkward for both you and heeseung since you walked back together.

there was this lingering tension. he was extremely touchy of you during the whole 'party' and obviously since you've done the deeds with him on multiple occasions, you know why he was this touchy. you wanted to bring up the subject to him but was it even okay for you two to talk about it?

okay maybe it was supposed to be fine, after all you've had sex with him tons of times! why was it so hard for you to bring this up to him. you finally reached your bedroom door, you turned to heeseung ready to pop in the question. however, before you could even utter a word out, heeseung's pretty lips was on yours.

next thing you know, your back was against the wall of the bedroom. heeseung kicks the bedroom door shut with his foot. he cups your face and tilts his head to deepen the kiss. you let on a small moan as you feel him press up his leg against the most vulnerable part of you.

he breaks the kiss only to trail kisses down from your lips to your jaw and rests on your neck. he works his way to find that sweet spot of yours. once he finds it, you let out a whimper.

"found it." heeseung growls.

when lust took over heeseung, he was a different person. it was scary honestly but you liked it. your hands made it under his shirt, trailing his toned body down to hold his waist. he pulls back.

"are you sure you are okay with this (name)? i mean, we did have history with having sex but i don't just wanna fuck you this time. i wanna make love to you."

"heeseung, whatever you did just now was not making love. you should go slower when making love."

"well...you never enjoyed going slow..." heeseung's eyes watches you.

"shut up and fuck me."

"gladly, my love." he smirks.

your body lands onto the mattress after heeseung carefully places you on it whilst not breaking the kiss you two shared. heeseung hovers above you after breaking the kiss.

"let's prep you first hmm? it's been a while." heeseung says.

"can we skip it? i kinda just want you and besides the others are still around us...we need to make it quick."

"aren't you the one who said love making means taking it slow? i'll take my sweet time with you, princess." heeseung purrs. you felt your whole face heat up. he starts trailing kissing down to your stomach and thighs.

he stops just above your pathetic sleeping shorts. it was a set you brought just for heeseung since he mentioned how he loved satin pyjamas on you (this was mentioned when you two were still fuck buddies).

"c-can you stop teasing me, heeseung?"

"that's not my nickname, sweetheart."

"sir, please."

"since you asked nicely." he pulls down your shorts along with your panties. his lips latches onto your clit and he devours your cunt like a starving man. you were squirming under his grip. heeseung holds you down.

“you taste divine, my love.” heeseung says. you slapped a hand over your mouth so you didn’t accidentally moan out loud. “hmm, let’s see if you can take my fingers. it’s been a while, need to have you stretched out to be able to take my cock. hmm?”

heeseung runs his finger up and down your folds teasingly. you whine.

“heeseung, can you please for the love of god just stick it in-” you gasp when you felt his fingers in you. he starts to slowly scissor you whilst kissing you, swallowing your moans.

he starts moving faster. you gasp again.

“h-hee.” was all you mutter out. he knows you were close judging by how you were clenching around his fingers. he pulls out and you whines at the sudden loss.

“I think you’re ready.” he smiles.

“please.”

heeseung finally pulls off his clothes. you were left staring at his body. yup, you were definitely lucky. he was blessed with looks and a huge dic-

“eyes up here, love.” he tilts your head up to meet his eyes. he rips a condom packet he took out from his pocket and rolls it on.

“heeseung.” you sounded desperate because you were. you needed him and he knew. heeseung runs his tip against your folds. your body shivers in pleasure.

“ready?”

“heeseung, it’s not my first time. you were rougher during my first time anyways.”

“like I said.” you nearly moaned out loud when you felt him just shove inside you. “you never liked going slow.”

“well maybe because you never liked it too.” you retort back. heeseung cocks his brow.

“being a brat now? do you want to get punished? let everyone hear how good i’m making you feel?” heeseung says.

“no please, sir.”

“good girl.” he smirks. “but…i’m not lying when I said I want them to hear how good you’re drowning on my cock.”

“heeseung wait-” he thrusts faster into you. you moaned. heeseung doesn’t bother covering it up. you were sure anyone would hear it.

“w-what happened to you wanting to make-” he presses down on the bump you that formed on your tummy as he thrusts into you. “love to me.” you finished your sentence after catching a breath. heeseung was making it hard for you to talk.

“do I really have to answer that, love?” he cockily says.

“fine.” he hits that spot. “oh wait, that f-feels good.”

“right here?” he hits that spot again. you groaned.

“heeseung, h-harder.” he listens to you and snaps his hips harder. you nearly screamed.

“I can feel you clenching around me, love. you’re close, aren’t you?” you nod at his words. he smirks as does the most cruelest thing ever. he slows down. you whined.

“heeseung, please.” you begged. a tear slips out of your eyes. heeseung wipes it. he speeds up again, he groans into your ears and you swore it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard in your whole life.

“fuck.” heeseung curses. “I love you (name).” his hands goes to reach over for yours. it interlaces.

“I love you too, lee heeseung.” he kisses you one last time before you came undone. this was the hardest you ever came. heeseung pulls out and ties the condom before discarding it into the dustbin.

he goes over to the bathroom in your bedroom and grabs a small towel. he dampens it and starts to you before wiping you down cleaning you up. you whimper when he touches your cunt since you were still sensitive. he mutters small sorry’s while doing so.

“let’s get you to pee first, hmm?” heeseung carries you to the bathroom. you did your little business.

he hands you the t-shirt he was wearing before and starts dressing the both of you up. once he was done, he settles right with you on your bed. you were barely keeping your eyes opened. he pecks both of your eyelids.

“sleep.” he says.

“heeseung.”

“yeah?”

“I meant it when I said ‘I love you’ back.” you told him whilst playing with his hands.

“i know and I love you too.” he pecks your forehead. “you think those three boys were listening in?”

you groaned, “why would you ruin the moment?”

“I’m just saying. if they were…we could bring them in for more fun.”

“don’t start putting ideas into my head, heeseung.”

“so you were thinking about it.” he smirks. you hid your face on his chest. he chuckles. “you know I would never oppose to what you want, love.”

“let’s just sleep, please.”

heeseung flicks the lamp lights off. the both of you fall into sleep.

he finally had you in his arms and he was not letting you go ever again.

THE END

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