#LOOK AT THEM SETTING STUFF AFLAME!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sadhours · 1 year

Text

Wicked Sensation

part nineteen // billy hargrove x f!reader

find all chapters here

a/n: this is the end of the road :( next chapter is the last one. thank you all so much for reading!! I’ll be working to start up another series.

word count: 5.5k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dirty sex like literally, p in v, neil but he’s not being the worst?!

tag list: @blue-eyed-lion @bbyhargrove @sweet-villain @actuallyspencerreid @trapistani @sierrahhh @likeanimagepassingby2

Billy has had what feels like the longest shift of his life. Twelve grueling hours of being under searingly hot engines. He’s learning a lot and earning even more but he sincerely fucking hates these long days. However, he’s offering to stay late more days than not. He’d saved up enough for a place but once you’d mentioned how you wanted a honeymoon, Billy took it upon himself to make that a reality. His bank account was looking nice meanwhile yours was draining almost as soon as you got paid. He wasn’t upset though, you were buying baby stuff and even though both he and Mary suggested you wait until after the baby shower to start buying stuff, he liked the excited look on your face as you showed him all the things you’d bought.

It’s late when he walks through the front door. You’re seated at the kitchen table, flipping through wedding magazines Mary brought home for you. The clock on the stove tells him it’s almost nine and the look on his face tells you the day he’s had. He’s covered in sweat and grease, his curls barely have any bounce to them as they stick to his neck and forehead and his eyes look exhausted. For some reason, the sight of him like this sets you aflame. You feel yourself getting very wet. And Billy can read you like an open book because he gives you a pointed look.

“I need to shower first,” he tells you seriously but his lips curl up as disappointment twists your features. “What? You want me to fuck you like this? All covered in fucking oil and god knows what else.”

You nod up at him, “You look so sexy.”

He shakes his head but steps closer to press his lips to yours. You deepen it instantly, sliding your tongue against his bottom lip until he opens his jaw slightly. Tongues clashing, you grab onto his dirty work shirt and moan softly. It lights something deep in Billy and he’s lifting you from the chair and setting you on the table. You don’t even care that your dad and Mary are awake. Maybe it’s the hormones but you want Billy so carnally in this moment you’re gonna let him fuck you on the kitchen table.

Your hands make quick work of his belt and zipping, pushing down his briefs and pants low enough for his cock to spring out. Billy groans into your mouth, his fingers pushing your nightgown up and pull your panties to the side. He presses his tip to your entrance and pushes in with ease, filling you to the brim in one swift thrust. You cry out but he silences it with his lips, hands digging into your hips while he drills into you. It’s so rushed and reckless, like if anyone walked in you two couldn’t physically stop. Your hands wrap around his neck, whimpering against his lips. With each thrust, he hits your g-spot so perfectly and repeatedly you’re already a goner.

He pulls his lips away to whisper in his ear, “Such a needy girl. You’ve been thinking about my cock filling you all day, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you confess breathlessly, “want it all the time.”

Billy has to admit, with all the working he’s been doing he’s a little pent up so he’s not lasting very long. He grabs onto your hair and pulls it, tilting your head back so he can devour your throat with his tongue and teeth. You grip onto him tighter, gasping out without a care in the world about how loud you’re being. Billy rolls his hips into you even harder, his grip on your hair getting tighter as he chases his high. It grabs you first, though and you moan out his name as your hips rock up to meet his eager thrusts. Your orgasm ripples through you, your thighs shaking before your legs go limp. Billy grabs a hold of them, fingers digging into the back of your thighs as he holds them up. He gives another few hard thrusts before shooting his load into you. He stills completely, lowering his forehead to rest on your shoulder as he breaths hard. You giggle softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and turning your face slightly to kiss his dirty hair.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters before pulling away and stuffing himself back into his pants. “You need a shower now.”

You bite your lip as he slides your under back into place and helps you off the table. He laces your fingers and drags you to the bathroom where you share a very boring shower.

“He proposed how?” Eddie asks, eyebrows furrowed as he looks at Billy from across the room.

The baby shower was bigger than you thought it would be. Your dad invited every single one of his employees and they all showed up. You invited Eddie and Billy invited Max. But there were so many people here you barely knew. Mary even invited the majority of her coworkers. It was nice. Your eyes turn to follow Eddie’s, seeing as Billy sips his beer while talking to his coworkers.

“Well, the ring fell out of his pants when we were getting ready for bed and I saw it so he just did it then,” you shrug, “I’m sure he was planning some big gesture but I like how he did it. It was sweet.”

Eddie frowns, “He’s so different now.”

You know he means it as a compliment but you know this Billy has been in there all along. You’re just glad you were able to help coax it out of him. Billy was different without having to be under the dictatorship that was Neil but he was more like himself. He was patient, kind and incredibly loving. The biggest surprise was just how funny Billy is. He would have you bent over laughing so hard you couldn’t breathe. When he didn’t have to be so serious all the time, he had a great sense of humor.

“He’s himself now,” you correct Eddie.

He reaches over and squeezes your hand, “I’m happy for you. I mean it. You deserve this, all of it.”

“Thank you,” you beam, meeting his eyes. “Oh!” your eyes widen as you slide off your engagement ring and you hand it to Eddie. “Look how he engraved it.”

“Snoopy?!” Eddie let’s out a bellowing laugh before handing the ring back to you. “And you were embarrassed of those pajamas.”

“It’s still embarrassing,” you gush, “We may be getting married but I still want Billy to think I’m cool.”

“He obviously does, otherwise he wouldn’t be looking at you like that,” Eddie grins.

Your eyes raise back up to see Billy looking at you with stars in his eyes as he bites his lower lip. Your cheeks redden as you smile back and you see him walking over.

“Having fun, Eddie?” he asks, hands in his pockets.

Eddie nods enthusiastically, “Oh yeah, this is quite the rager. In fact, I frequent baby showers. They’re the best kinds of parties.”

“Well then,” Billy smirks up at you, “We’ll have to make a couple more so you can come to the parties.”

The idea that Billy wants more than one baby makes your stomach flip. You can just imagine him rocking cargo shorts and dad shoes.

“Give me two years after this one at least,” you say defensively.

“You excited to be maid of honor?” Billy directs his attention back to Eddie as he sits at the table with you two.

“Dude of honor, thank you very much,” Eddie bites back cheerfully.

“You wearing a dress?” Billy teases, pulling the beer he was holding up to his lips as he smirks over the rim of it.

“Don’t think I won’t,” Eddie mimics Billy’s smirk.

Mary interrupts by rushing over to tell you it’s time to open the gifts. She ushers you and Billy over to the couch where the presents are slowly presented to you. Mary takes photos of every gift, insisting Billy smiles as he hold them up. You turn to watch his face scrunch up in exaggerated delight as he holds up a box of diapers.

“You’re not gonna be making that face when you have to change ‘em,” you hear one of his coworkers call out.

Billy rolls his eyes as he sets the diapers back down but then his smile is back as Max walks over with a gift bag. He pulls the card out and opens it.

Billy,

This gift was hard to give because it’s the one thing I kept from your infancy. It was a reminder of the love your mother and I once shared and what a wonderful baby you were. You’re growing up and I wanted you to know I’m proud of you. I know you’ll be a great dad.

Love,

your dad.

Billy’s eyes immediately well up with tears and he wonders if his dad cried while writing that. Neil had never been so candid, he’d never once told Billy he was proud of him. He wouldn’t even bring up Billy’s mom. This… this was something else. He wipes his tears quickly, sniffling harshly as he hands you the card. He pulls out a second card and wonders if his dads playing a sick joke and this one will say Just kidding. Fuck you. but it doesn’t. This one is to you and him and it’s from Max and Susan. He reaches into the bag as pulls out some baby clothes. After you read the card, you’re leaning into Billy and pressing a kiss to his shoulder as you rub circles against his back. You’re crying, a lot more freely than he is. At the bottom of the bag, Billy feels the hard plastic and hears the sound before he sees the gift and immediately he knows what it is. He pulls it out, mouth agape slightly as he peers down at the ocean themed rattle. He recognizes it, he’d been pretty damn attached to it when he was a kid. He can’t believe his dad had kept it and had it tucked away all these years. He’s too floored by the rush of emotion to care about all the eyes in the room on him. He won’t let himself break down and sob, but he stays silent as he holds the toy in his hand. He didn’t know Neil had it in him to be so kind.

You press a kiss to his cheek, “That’s so sweet, Billy.”

“I know,” he says after clearing his throat and resting the rattle back into the bag before slapping his thighs, “Alright, what’s next?”

You let it go, knowing you’ll talk to him more in depth tonight. Max reaches forward and squeezes his shoulder before retreating. She knows Billy well enough to not dwell on this moment in front of everyone.

When you walk into the bedroom, you see Billy sitting against the headrest of your bed. He’s holding the rattle in his hands, turning it over while he looks at it. You sit next to him, placing a hand on his thigh as you wait for him to speak first.

“You think he regrets being a giant asshole my whole life?” Billy breathes out, not tearing his eyes away from the rattle.

“Probably,” you guess, “I’m sure he misses you being around. He’s probably had lots of time to think about how he treated you.”

Billy drops his hands, looking up at you with misty eyes, “I want to hate him so bad.”

“And you have every right to. But it’s complicated. Did you hold resentment for your mom after she left?”

He nods.

“Yet, you still love her dearly and you’ve justified why she left. It could be that while your dad was shitty to you, you still appreciate that he was there,” you offer, hoping it could help him. You didn’t exactly know how Billy was feeling but you know how you felt about your own situation with your parents.

Billy sighs, a tear breaking from his eyes and cascades down his cheek. He reaches for your hand and squeezes it, “I don’t want to be like him. I want to be a good dad.”

“You will be,” you promise, moving into his lap and raking your hands through his hair. “You don’t have to be like him.”

Billy rests his head against your chest, pulling you into a hug. You circle your arms around his neck and squeeze him tightly while you kiss the top of his head. “It’s not the best apology but maybe it’s way of doing it.”

“Yeah…” Billy sighs, “I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” you tell him.

“Are we ready for something like this?” you ask as you walk down the hall, peering into empty rooms.

“Your dad said he’d co-sign,” Billy shrugs as he steps into the hallway bathroom and flicks the light switch on and off.

A mortgage seems like a big step into adulthood that you’re not sure you’re ready to take. You’re always overthinking things, though. You’ve imagined all the possibilities. All the things that could happen. Like what if you and Billy break up. Or what if you guys can’t afford to pay it and it horribly damages your credits for the rest of your lives. Billy seems to notice you’re panicking internally because he wraps his arm around your waist and looks down at you.

“You’re pregnant with my baby and we’re getting married in a week. The next logical step is buying a house,” he says and then thinks for a second, “Er, trailer.”

“I don’t even have a car yet. I’m still a kid,” you argue back.

“Yeah, we’ll work on the car thing,” he chuckles, “We may be young but we’re doing very adult things. We’ll be fine. We’ve got each other.”

“It’s three bedrooms,” you point out.

Billy rolls his eyes, “We ain’t stopping at one baby. We’ll need the room.”

You giggle and with that, he’s convinced you.

“Fine!” you gush, “Let’s do it.”

Billy grins as he leans you back and plants a big, sloppy kiss on your lips. The prospect of being so domestic with him has you buzzing. You grab hold of his jaw while you kiss back. He pulls back to nudge his nose with yours, “I’ll put in an offer. We can move in after the honeymoon.”

“Honeymoon?” you look up at him in disbelief. You’d thought it’d been out of the budget.

“Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that?” he leads you into the kitchen and leans against the empty cabinets.

“You did,” you reply, “How can we afford to buy a house and a honeymoon?”

Billy lifts you up and rests your ass on the counter, twirling a bit of your hair between his fingers while he looks up at you. Your heart swells with how much you love this man. He’s given you everything you could ever want and more.

“Why do you think I’ve been working twelve hour days? I wanna give you everything I can,” he murmurs, blue eyes scanning your face and focusing in on your lips.

“I wanna give you everything too,” you whisper, wrapping your legs around his waist and grabbing a hold of his t-shirt.

“Yeah?” he smirks, resting his hand on your thigh, “You can give me something right now.”

“In here?” your eyes widen.

“Why not? It’ll be ours,” he counters, hooking his fingers into your waistband.

He has a good point so you nod, leaning back so he can pull your leggings down to your ankles. He presses a bruising kiss to your lips as he starts to unzip his jeans. Once he’s got his cock in his hand, he drags his tip through your folds. Billy exhales at the sensation, your slick coating his throbbing head. It’s all so intoxicating and right. He taps it against clit a few times, eyes on yours intently as you whimper. You worry the realtor will show up randomly even though she canceled and gave Billy the key.

He reads your mind, seeing the uncertainty on your face and tells you, “Stop thinking. We’re alone.”

“Okay,” you breath out but it quickly turns into a moan as Billy slips inside your dripping hole.

He fills you completely, exhaling against your face as he does so and you can smell the minty gum he was chewing. You grab a hold of his shoulder, sinking back until your head rests against the cupboard. You’ll never get used to how big he is or the way your aching pussy grips him. You get excited, thinking about all the furniture you guys can fuck on in your new place and how you’re starting that now before it’s officially yours.

Billy’s lips are against your ear suddenly and you feel his breath on it as he whines, “Fuck, you’re so tight. I fucking love your pussy. All mine.”

You cry out when he bites your earlobe and starts thrusting into your eager core. The slow drag of his member against your walls is electric, sending shivers up your spine. He grabs hold of your thighs and scoots you a bit closer, angling your hips up so he reaches the spongy spot deep inside you.

“Billy,” you moan out, “Ugh, right there!”

He laughs lowly, almost sinisterly and it’s the sexiest sound to grace your ears. You love to fluff his ego, you want him to be so sure that he fucks you like no one else could and that you completely belong to him. It’s hot how arrogant he can be about it.

“Fuck, that’s so fucking good,” you groan out, eyes rolling back as his rhythm reaches the pace that’ll bring you over the edge.

“Yeah? You like that?” he grits out, “This pussy was made just for me.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod frantically, “all yours, Billy.”

“All mine,” he repeats, moving his hand so he can lick his thumb and press it against your clit, moving it in quick circles.

“Ugh, yes… I’m so close,” you warn him, hands tangling into the curls at the back of his head.

Billy groans lowly against your ear before encouraging you, “That’s it. Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

You whine, closing your eyes as he lures you to the edge. He licks against your neck and you lose it, writhing on the counter as you reach your climax. He keeps whispering praises into your ear as you ride it out, prolonging the waves even further than normal. You don’t even notice he’s meeting you there until you feel him emptying inside you.

“Billy,” you pant softly, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. He wipes them away and kisses your lips gently before pulling away and dressing the two of you.

“Well, we’ve christened the house,” he jokes.

You smack him arm, “We have to buy it now.”

He chuckles as he helps you down of the counter, “Or we can keep looking and see how many empty houses I can fuck you in.”

“Very romantic,” you roll your eyes, lacing your fingers together so you can lead him out to the car.

Your wedding dress is just a tad snug but you can still walk in it so you think that’s a win. Max, Mary, your dad and Eddie sit on the bench while you stand on the pedestal. You’d wanted Billy to come with but Mary insisted it was horrible luck for him to see you in the dress before the wedding. You felt like you and Billy were too in love for any of those superstitions to affect you. However, at the same time you didn’t want to risk it.

“It’s a little tight,” you mention to the associate, “in the belly, obviously.”

Eddie snorts but when you turn to him to glare at him, he smiles wide, “You look great in it.”

“Could we just take it out a tiny bit here?” you ask the associate as you rub your stomach.

“Of course, we can,” she smiles at you, “We’ll be cutting time a little short, it won’t be ready until the morning of, though.

“That’s fine,” you say as you turn and look behind your shoulder to see the back of it. “You can pick it up, right, Eddie?”

“I’ll pick my dress up then too,” he teases, earning laughs from the room.

You roll your eyes as you turn back around. When the associate brings out the veil and places it on your head, Mary lets out a sob and you turn to see your dad also has tears in his eyes.

“Happy crying, I hope,” the associate mutters to you, “you look stunning.”

You hope Billy will agree. You beam at her before you turn back to the mirror, the reflection you see is almost a stranger. You’d never imagined you’d be getting married ever, let alone right before your nineteenth birthday.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married,” you say to yourself, eyes scanning over all the delicate, lace details on the dress.

“To Billy fucking Hargrove,” you hear from Eddie, it’s soft and copies your disbelief. It was quick, very quick. Hell, you’d known him barely over a year and now you’re making the commitment to spend the rest of your life with him. It feels a little scary until you imagine him standing next to you, in a suit and bowtie. Then it feels more exciting than anything.

Billy peers down at the invitation in his hand as he stands at the doorstep. He could turn around. He could run back into your dads house and continue his life without Neil in it. But the card he’d given Billy made him not want to. He’d always been there, always stayed by his dads side and picked up the broken pieces of their life. He knew his dad was an asshole, knew he treated him so unfairly for his entire childhood but he never abandoned Billy. So Billy couldn’t abandon him.

He knocks on the door, hoping that maybe Susan or Max would answer and he could just hand over the wedding invitation and leave. But he’s met with a familiar mustache and brooding blue eyes, wonders if his own look like that.

“Son,” Neil says, his tone stern with a hint of relief.

Billy keeps their eye contact, like he’s been taught to, like real men do. Though he struggles, always has. Wants to anywhere but his dad.

“I uh, wanted to give you this,” he says and extends the invitation out.

“Come in,” Neil says, the tone has changed but Billy’s still wary. He thinks of making an excuse, saying he’s got to work or you have an appointment but he doesn’t. He follows his dad inside, to the fridge where he grabs two beers and casually passes one to his son. As they walk into the living room, Billy notices his weight set is gone and a chair takes its place, probably paid for the chair. Billy won’t mention that he personally paid for the bench press. He hasn’t had time for working out anyways, doesn’t have much anger pent up anymore. He fears for a moment that he’s getting pudgy but his dad distracts him from the self criticism.

“Sit down.”

Billy obeys, sits on the new chair and cracks the beer open. His shoulders ache and he notices how much he’s tensed up by stepping into this house so he rolls them to get some relief and tells himself he’s fine, safe. Extending the invitation to his father, he relaxes a bit. There’s a peace offering in it.

Neil takes the envelope and opens it, pulling out the card stock with your name and Billy’s at the top.

“So, you’re gonna do the right thing and marry the girl,” Neil nods, “Good.”

“Yeah,” is all he says, wants to tell his dad how much he loves you and that’s why he’s marrying you, not just because he knocked you up. “It’s this Saturday. I probably should’ve brought this over sooner but you know, we’ve been busy. I just signed the papers for our house.”

“You bought a house?” Neil sounds surprised but proud.

Billy nods, “Well, it’s a trailer but yeah. Three bedrooms, two baths, it’s nice.”

“Expecting more kids already?”

“We want to,” he clears his throat, “Not right away but yeah.”

Neil sighs, looking down at the invitation, “Well congratulations. I’m glad you’re starting a family.”

“Thanks.”

Billy’s itching to leave and hates that he can’t just get along with his dad like most sons. Furious at his dad for making it feel like he can’t say what he’s feeling. Part of him wants to tell him thank you for sticking around but he knows Neil will tell him he had no choice. And Billy knows that’s true.

“We’ll be there,” Neil says and sips his beer, tossing the invitation on the coffee table. The air in the room is thick. They both want to say how they feel but it’s been beaten in both of them not to. Billy makes a silent promise to himself he won’t do that to his kids because this is brutal to sit through.

“Cool,” Billy nods and they sit in silence as they finish their beers. Billy figures he can leave now.

Squeezing into the wedding dress was like shoving a balloon into a sock. How your belly had grown so much in just one week you weren’t sure. It was a horrible way to start the morning. You felt bloated and tired. They’d taken the dress out but it seemed like they hadn’t. You should’ve insisted another inch or two. Mary assures you that doesn’t look like it’s squeezing you. Eddie walks into the room, already in his suit and he looks like a million bucks, he’s holding a packet of mini donuts from a convenience store.

“Jesus,” you breath out when you see him, “I have never in my life seen you look so grown up.”

He shoves a donut into his mouth, cheeks filling as he smiles around the bite. Once upon a time you thought you’d end up marrying him and seeing him in a suit gives you a tiny glimpse into that parallel universe and it’s not so bad, but you’re glad it’s not the one you’re in.

“Did you invite Harrington?” he asks once he’s swallowed, “I saw his placement on the table.”

“Billy insisted,” you admit, “think it’s part of that weird feud they have going on.”

He snorts, “Did you make him invite Stephanie?”

“We never got her RSVP,” you giggle and Mary rolls her eyes.

“Doing all these grown up things yet you’re acting like you’re still in high school,” she sighs.

“It’s healthy,” Eddie shrugs.

“Very healthy!” you agree.

“So how did the bachelor party go?” Eddie asks as he sits.

You laugh, hard. Billy had come home drunk but complaining that Tommy and Drew didn’t get along and that neither of them knew how to throw a proper bachelor party.

“No strippers then?” Eddie teases and shoves another donut in his mouth.

“I think they just got drunk at Drew’s apartment.”

“Real rager.”

“Totally.”

Your dad walks into the room, getting a look at you all done up for the first time. He grins wide, “My little girl. All grown up.”

“It’s about time, huh?” Eddie shoves your shoulder playfully.

Your eyes always hurt after spending time with Eddie, constantly rolling them.

“Speaking of,” Mary rips the donuts from Eddie’s hands, “You need to be heading down the aisle.”

“Yay, I get to walk with Tommy,” he mumbles sarcastically. “Think I might get lucky,” he winks at you.

“Carol’s watching,” you call after him as he exits the room.

Mary stands at the door as watches, then she’s turning back to you and your dad.

“It’s time!” she squeals.

You link arms with your dad after he fixes your veil. The butterflies in your stomach rave, more present than they’ve been all day. It’s happening. You’re about walk down the aisle to Billy. You feel like you might puke so you take a deep breath. The piano sounds cue you and your dads feet, walking through the doors until the beginning of the aisle. Immediately, your eyes meet with Billy’s ocean blue ones. The threat of vomiting immediately ceases. He’s never looked more handsome than he does in this moment. His suit hugs him perfectly, the blue tie matching his eyes. His curls. They’re so perfect, pretty blonde coils styled more intently than ever. He takes your breath away. It’s as if you’re the only two people in the church. You can’t even feel all the eyes on you as every head in the pews turn to you. The walk feels like it takes forever, you want to run to him.

When you finally get there, you see the tears in his eyes and he shyly says, “Hi.”

“Hi,” you repeat and it’s met with a roar of laughter. For a moment you feel like you’re in a tv show and you’re reminded there’s about 100 eyeballs on you.

Billy takes your hands in his, grounding you. It’s easy for the rest of the ceremony as you look into his eyes. He somehow expresses silently to you that this is just between you and him. You could’ve done this simple and just as sweet at the courthouse but Mary loved planning this big event.

You recite your vows, Mary had helped you write them because you had no idea what you were supposed to say. The first wedding you attended was your own. Billy recites his and they’re simple but beautiful. They make you cry. He reaches up the year streaming down your cheek and the audience collectively ‘aws’ and you feel like you’re right back in that tv show.

When you kiss, you feel a whole lot lighter. Billy’s lips are soft and pliable. He’s your husband now. You’re kissing your husband. He cups your cheeks with his hands, smiling into it before slipping his tongue past your lips. Again, you’re reminded of the audience by the whooping.

Billy can dance. You watch with wide eyes as he two-steps with none other than Steve Harrington. They have drunk smiles and flushed cheeks. You feel warm inside, dandelions sprouting in your belly. You and Steve made a mistake but he was a really good friend, you’d wanted to show Billy that. Open Billy up to people who would care for him.

“That’s a sight for sore eyes,” Mary says to you, nudging your shoulder. She can see the smile stretching your face. Everyone in the room can see it.

When Billy locks hands with Robin and sways away with her, you take the opportunity to swoop in on Steve. He looks surprised, but happy. He holds onto your hand and awkwardly moves side to side with you. It seems Billy was doing all the work.

“Thanks for coming,” you say to him, watching as his chestnut hair flops with each step.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he beams, “Seriously, congratulations.”

“It’s weird, though, right?”

“Oh, other dimension weird,” he agrees, “That’s life.” Steve shrugs on the last word.

“He’s nice,” you feel the need to say. “Better than nice.”

“He’s not half bad,” Steve says but his eyes look past your shoulder and you feel strong hands on your waist, pulling you back from Steve’s grip.

Blonde curls tickle your jaw as your husband rests his chin on your shoulder, his eyes locked on Steve’s.

“Mind if I steal her? She’s my wife, after all,” Billy shoots him a toothy grin and the declaration sends tingles through you.

Steve raises his hands, “Hey, she’s all yours.”

Billy turns you, looking right into your eyes with a dreamy bite of his lip. You hook your arms around his neck and press your hips to his. He moves his hands up your back and shamelessly says, “Can’t fucking wait to get this dress off of you.”

“I’d be happy to leave right now,” you chide, hooking a blonde curl with your finger.

Billy purses his lips, “We could just find a broom closet or something.”

“Hmm, romantic,” you roll your eyes but you’d definitely do it. “Where are we going?”

“Oh you mean the honeymoon? It’s a secret, tonight we crash at our new place,” he tells you nonchalantly.

“On the floor?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing this week? Got us a much bigger bed,” he grins, nudging his nose into yours.

You tilt your head, “Think they’ll all notice if we leave right now?”

Billy lets out a deep, throaty laugh. He squeezes your hips, “This whole shindig is kinda for us. Yeah, they’d notice.”

“I don’t really care if they do,” you admit and that’s all it takes to convince Billy. It’s late anyways. He’s pulling you out the doors before anyone can make a peep.

#billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x reader #wicked sensation

171 notes · View notes

dreamingofep · 1 year

Text

Strangers in the Crowd

Pt. 4

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No, just another one of my delusional fantasies.

Prompt: You and your best friend are on a annual girls trip and get to see Elvis at the International. Little did you know this would be a show you'll never forget. [Fem!Reader ]

TW: SMUTTT, cussing, fingering (f. receiving) teasing/ tension, oral, the usual dirty stuff.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: Hi lovlies. I'm so glad you are enjoying these last few parts! Sorry it took so long for me to write this part but hopefully it was worth the wait!

Feel free to message me or comment what you think!

Thanks for all the love. Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

Your vision is blurry as you try to open your eyes from your sleep. Dark red velvet curtains cover the wall in front of you from ceiling to floor, not letting an ounce of sunlight in. The delicious scent of Elvis fills your nose and wraps around you. It makes you groan with how intoxicating it is. You’ve only been around him for a few hours, but something about his scent was comforting and warm, you wish you could bottle it up and take it home with you.

You stretch out your arms, then your legs, and you wince. There is a soreness on the inside of your thighs. Last night’s events felt like a blur, some of them so intense, and other moments that didn’t seem real at all. If it wasn’t for how your body felt right now, you could have sworn the things that happened last night were a dream.

You, out of all people in that crowd, Elvis gravitated toward you, kissed you, teased you in countless ways, and fucked you senseless. You can’t help but smile at that last part. You know you won’t be the same because of this man.

You reach your arm out to the other side of the bed and it's warm but empty. Elvis must have gotten up pretty soon before you woke up. You search for the lamp switch in pitch black and find the switch. The light flips on and the huge suite gains some light. You slowly get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom. The cold marble floor makes your shiver and you quickly get in the shower and turn the hot water on. You stand there letting the water hit your face and it helps to wake you up. Once you’re done replaying certain events in your head, you shut off the water and grab one of the towels off the rack.

You suddenly hear a knock at the front door and wakes you from your dream-like trance.

You wrap the towel around yourself and peek out the bathroom. Elvis still isn’t back and the knocks keep rattling the door. You step closer to the door and put your hand on the door,

“Who is it?” You ask nervously, clutching the towel to your body.

“It’s me darlin’, open up please,” Elvis says low, his deep baritone sending a wave of pleasure through you already.

You unlock the door and let him in and he scoops you up and gives you a tight hug. His strong arms wrapped around you feel like heaven. You burry your face in his chest, drinking in how his skin touches yours, setting it aflame. He gently loosens his embrace and you notice he has a large bag in his hand.

Your eyebrows shoot up and look up at him inquisitively.

“I thought you could use a new outfit for the day since everything you have is ruined,” he says boisterously.

You blush at his words and take the bag and open it on the bed. On top is a flowy, short skirt and a cropped tank top. Along with a pair of short-heeled pumps. You are shocked at what good taste he has in picking this out but you see how he dresses and shouldn’t be so surprised. At the bottom of the bag, you see something sequined. You look over at him and he comes up behind you and places his hands on your shoulders and brushes your hair back behind your ear.

“I thought maybe, you’d like to come to the show one more time tonight, and wow everyone in this little number,” his voice sultry and low. You breathe in sharply, taken back by his boldness, and feel the heat grow in your core and spread throughout your body.

“I’d love to see you up there again,” you whisper. A low hum builds in his chest and he lowers his hand to yours where it is holding the towel closed. He moves your hand away, the towel falls in a puddle at your feet. He carefully turns you around to face him and goes in to kiss you. The passion is pouring out of him like water and seeping through to your veins. You automatically pull him close, needing him like your life depended on it. You feel a slight smile form on his face and then returns the gesture by sliding his hand down the arch of your back and grabbing a handful of your ass. A moan escapes your lips and you deepen the kiss more. Your tongue rolls against his and he sucks on it as it leaves his mouth.

He leans you back onto the bed, spreading open your legs and keeping a firm grip on your ankles.

You hear your heart pounding loudly in your chest and your mind clouds over any sane thought you might have. He places long, wet kisses down your naked body and licks at your nipples. You arch into him, wanting more pressure from his mouth. He bites at your hard nipples, causing you to moan for him. You scratch your nails down his arms and crave so much more of him.

You never thought you could crave someone. To crave someone’s presence, for all their attention to be poured onto you, to have their body in ways you cannot even begin to comprehend. You’ve learned so much about yourself and how to please a man in these last twenty-four hours and how you want to learn even more.

He makes his way down to your thighs and gets closer and closer to your core, kneeling on his knees looking directly at your weeping core. You know you’re wet for him by just his teasing and he’s only making it worse. He gently places his thumb on your clit and rubs it in slow circles. You let out a sigh, loving the pleasure that is running through your body.

“Mmm, looking so damn delicious baby. Good enough to eat,” he tantalizes. You sit up on your elbows and look at him. He looks drunk on you already, licking his lips and rubbing your juices throughout your folds with his thumb. Your hips subconsciously move with his movements and it brings a smile to his face. He places two fingers on your sensitive bundle of nerves and slides them down to spread your lower lips apart. This gives him an even better view of your arousal spilling out of you and you feel so exposed with how he’s looking at you.

“Fuck look at my little girl. Your pussy just weeping for me,” he growls at you as he bites his lower lip, “I’m starving for you mama, I’m gonna make you cum all over my face this time,” he teases and grips your thighs tighter, pushing them up closer to your chest. You moan at his words, needing him to deliver on everything he’s saying. Your core throbs with how close his mouth is to you and feel your wetness pool even more.

He continues to kiss and nip at the soft flesh of your thighs. You hiss at the sensations, wanting his teasing to stop. He places his lips on your clit and places a gentle, soft kiss. You gasp, unaccustomed to the feeling of anything touching your most sensitive of areas.

Elvis hums softly, liking the reaction he’s gotten out of you. He flattens his tongue and glides it down through your folds, lapping up all the wetness that is seeping out of you. Your eyes roll back inside your head, loving how he works his tongue on you. He continues this motion, working up and down, applying more pressure at your clit causing you to buck your hips up. Your hands grip in the bed sheets tightly, overwhelmed at first by the heat growing exponentially in your core.

Elvis’ lips and chin are wet with your arousal, his eyes aflame and hungry for more. He pulls your body down lower on the bed and eats you with more fervor, his arms wrapped around your thighs and holding you down as he has his face completely buried in your pussy. He slips his tongue into your entrance briefly before moving back up and licking at your clit. You cry out, shocked by how good his tongue feels inside you and wanting it like that again.

“Tasting so damn good baby. I could eat you all day,” he moans into your pussy. His words send a shock wave to your throbbing core, “Yes, please don’t stop.” You groan.

You grab his hair and swivel your hips into his face as he sucks on your clit, and then licks and inserts his tongue in your entrance. His motions are brief and quick, trying to keep you on the brink of collapse, but not giving you exactly what you need.

Your breathing is short and your body is buzzing. “Elvis, oh please,” you moan rolling your hips more into his face, hoping to get more of his tongue on you.

“Whatcha need baby? What does my naughty girl need from me?” He coos and continues to lick with more intensity.

“I need your tongue,” you say exasperated, “I need more of you,” you beg. He grins up at you and nods his head. He gives you what you want and rolls his tongue in your entrance then sucks on your clit with eagerness. He continues this motion over and over, picking up pace, and you feel your coil tighten with every move. Your hips move with him, moving his lips where you need it the most. His hands find your breasts and gropes them firmly as you roll in pleasure.

He pauses and has a devious look in his eye.

“Love it when you get off on my face baby. Come here,” he says as he gets up on the bed and lays down on his back. You look at him confused not sure what he wants you to do.

“Come here and get on top of me, honey. You’ll love it like this,” you are still very unsure of what he’s wanting from you. You straddle his chest and look down at him with hesitation.

“Elvis, are y-y-you sure… you want me on your face?” He nods his head at you and places his hands on your hips and squeezes them.

“Yes, I want you like this mama, sit down right here,” he coos as he licks his lips, you take a deep breath looking at how hungry he is for you. You scoot up higher, both of your knees straddling his head, and have your leaking cunt directly hovering over his face. Nerves wrack your body and don’t think you can do this. Elvis starts to grow impatient and he places a firmer grip on your hips.

“I said sit down,” he growls and your core meets his lips and his ever-eager tongue. He lets out a loud grunt and this time, he is giving you everything you want and more. The moment those soft, luscious lips touch you, you cry out and feel the pleasure seep through your veins. He eats you like he’s been starving for you his entire life. The way he’s sucking at your clit makes your vision blurry and how he makes sure to lick all your arousal coming out of your pussy. You moan loudly, not caring who can hear, and start to swivel your hips on his face. He reaches every spot that needs attention.

You throw your head back, letting the anatomical high you’re experiencing take over your whole body. His hands clutch tightly on your ass and your hips as low emitted groans slip out of his mouth. You look back down at Elvis with his eyes wide open, fire consuming them as he watches your face contort in pleasure.

You move your hips faster onto him, fucking his face like he wanted, and feeling your impending orgasm coming so soon. Your walls are starting to flutter and your legs begin to shake. He lifts your hips up slightly as he finishes sucking on your clit.

“You like this mama? You like to fuck my face like this?” He growls deeply.

You cry out, “Yes baby. Oh god, yes,” and sit back down on him and he continues his work.

It feels incredible, the way he finds the most sensitive spots and is making you crumble right on top of him. You move faster on him, having him take you right on the brink of ecstasy. You feel the coil in your belly snap and he has his tongue deep inside you.

You cry out his name over and over, begging for him, and you hear him groan into you over the sound of his name leaving your lips. You see stars as you shut your eyes closed and ride his face. He suckles your clit as you’re coming, then dips his tongue back in you, feeling your walls squeeze around him. He’s moaning with you, the vibrations from his throat cause you to crumble even more. You feel your arousal seep out of you and he moans when it reaches his tongue. You try to steady your breathing as your orgasm begins to dissipate. Your legs feel weak and your whole body wants to collapse on him. You reach out your hand onto the headboard to steady yourself and he grabs your hips tighter and he continues to eat you out. The forcefulness of his tongue is almost too much, you feel overstimulated with every lick. You start to beg for him to stop but he is too focused to listen to you, he plunges his tongue deep inside you one more time and your whole body convulses.

You have no more energy in your limbs and he helps you lift yourself off of him and look down at the mess on his face. The glistening of your orgasm coats his lips and he licks them hungrily. You fall on your side and wrap your leg around his waist, exhausted from the excitement.

“Did so good baby. Tasted sweet as honey,” he says out of breath too.

You pull him in close and lay there for a bit. He runs his fingers through your hair. You look into his eyes and softly caress his face.

“What do you need from me, baby? I want you to feel good too,” you plead. He shakes his head, “Don’t worry about me, baby. Just come back up here after the show and stay with me again.” His eyes serious but soft. Your heart skips a beat, not expecting to see him again after today. You prepared yourself to make the melancholy goodbye but as usual, he keeps you surprised and happy, because you don’t think you can bare another night without him.

You smile at him and not your head. “Of course,” you say shyly.

He kisses you passionately, you taste yourself on his lips and it makes your eyes roll back.

He slowly moves back and looks into your eyes, “I need to go a meet with the band and go over tonight’s set. I wish I could spend the entire day with you,” he whispers.

You blush at the sentiment, “It’s okay. I understand. I’ll catch up with Cicily. I’ll see you tonight,” you assure him.

“Wait for me backstage, I’ll come and get you,”

You go get coffee and breakfast with Cicily and you both spill the events that you both had last night. She was in utter shock by everything you say. The gasps and muffled screams from your side of the restaurant only invite annoyed and unwanted stares in your direction.

“So you're gonna see him again tonight? Oh my God y/n, this is insane. I can’t believe what is happening.”

“Me either!” You squeal out excitedly.

But doubt runs through your mind. What exactly does he want with you?

You’re just one girl he met last night and you’re leaving tomorrow...

You cringe at your overthinking. Just be happy for the time being and worry about tomorrow later.

You both spend the rest of your day walking around the different casinos and getting ready for the next midnight show.

Cicily is insistent on doing your hair and makeup and you give in.

She teases your hair high and sprays half a can of hair spray on it. For your makeup, she goes with some glitter eyeshadow and dramatic winged eyeliner.

You take out the dress from the bag and have her help you zip it up. It’s a short, halter dress with a low cut v. Not as dramatic as his on his jumpsuits but you see what he was trying to get at; show off as much of your skin as possible. The light blue sequins shine every time you move. It makes you feel amazing and can’t wait for him to see you in it.

You both make your way to the showroom and order another round of cosmopolitans like the night before. You both are giddy with excitement and can’t sit still. You both order another round of drinks and feel a little tipsy before the show even starts.

The gentlemen sitting at the next table are being kind but flirty towards you both and you go along with it. The one sitting next to you was trying to hold your hand and scoot closer to you. You didn’t stop it.

A little flirting never hurt anyone…

And besides you were single. You didn’t belong to anyone. Even though Elvis had sex with you a few times, (and even though a part of you craved for more,) you weren’t his. He does this all the time with girls. You were no different.

The lights begin to dim and the band begins to play. The gold curtain rises and you see Elvis emerge from the wings in a white jumpsuit and a red macrame belt, hanging loosely from his narrow hips. Your cheeks begin to flush red when you look over his entire body. He looks so good, almost too good, and everything is telling you to go on that stage and rip that suit off of him.

You both make eye contact with each other and he stares at you seductively, his eyes on fire yet again. His eyes travel down to your breasts and with how low-cut the dress is, there’s not much left to the imagination. And to his advantage point, he likes everything he sees.

No wonder he picked out this dress…

“Wow,” he mouths at you and winks. You could crumble right here at his feet. He has you so completely weak for him and he hasn’t even started the first song.

He goes up to the microphone and belts out the first few lines. He starts to make quick, short hip motions and you can’t help but stare at those hips.

Those were the ones plowing into you and making you say every cuss word you could find in your head last night. You cross your legs, needing to stop the impeding throbbing that is starting to form in your core.

Polk Salad Annie only makes it worse as he is gyrating to the beat of the song. He starts out slow and gradually gets more enthusiastic and drives the entire place mad. So much of his movements are how he makes love and you can’t help but turn beet red the more you stare. He makes eye contact with you as he moves his hips and you bite your lip to hold back the moan you want to make and he smiles directly at you.

When he goes into the audience, you try not to look at him kissing other girls. It’s something that is a bit immature of you, but you can’t help it. As he makes his way upon the stage again, he kneels on one knee right in front of you and reaches his hand out for you. You instinctively stand up and reach for it. Your eyes travel over his sweaty chest and do everything to try and not to reach out and touch it. He gives you a smirk and leans down and gives you a long kiss. You yelp at the forcefulness and melt into him. You wish you were pushed up against him, feeling his hands all over your needy body again.

Your heart thumps in your chest rapidly as he lets go of your hand and goes to the next song in the set. You shoot Cicily a quick glance and her face says it all, “You’re in deep trouble.”

The show has a spectacular end and you are on your feet clapping for him. You are in awe of this man. The showroom starts to clear out and you and cicily wait for Jerry to come and get you both.

Cicily is flirting up a storm with Jerry and you bounce with anticipation, waiting for Elvis to appear.

He appears in all black, his tan skin glowing and his hair wet from the shower. The dark black strands fall over his forehead and he brushes them back when he gets closer to you. He stares at you mesmerized, looking at every inch of you from head to toe.

“Well goddamn, you’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he says, his voice smooth and sultry.

You bite the inside of your cheek and shake your head bashfully, “you don’t mean that. You might need your vision checked,” you tease.

His face grows serious and his eyebrows furrow, “I wouldn’t lie to you darlin’,” his voice full of seriousness.

You divert your eyes away, not wanting to make him more upset.

“Well thank you then. I had the best stylist any girl could hope for,” you say sweetly.

A smirk forms on his face and he leads you to the elevator.

“Are you hungry? Why don’t we have dinner together?”

“Oh, sure. I’d love to,” your voice low and you break a smile.

The elevator cart comes to the floor and takes you two to the twenty-ninth floor where Elvis’ suite is. It’s eerily quiet up on these floors. Only Elvis and his men (and occasional wives or girlfriends) are up here and it seems like they’re all out on the town tonight.

He leads you into the living room area and flips on the switch.

You still feel so nervous around him. His energy fills up the entire room and consumes you.

You want to sit down but your body doesn’t allow you to. You instead go to the record player and shuffle through his albums he has. Various artists are mixed through the collection as well as his own recordings.

You throw on one from the 50s and his voice breaks through the speakers. You sway back and forth to “Love Me,” and get swept away from all of this. His voice has dramatically changed from when this was first recorded, but nonetheless his voice has the power to soothe you down to your soul.

You suddenly feel his arms wrap around your torso, pushing your body flush with his. You sigh at this feeling. How can someone make you feel so complete? You’ve only known of each for twenty-four hours and yet it feels so much more than that.

He runs his hands up your chest, up your neck, and back down again. You place your hand over his and intertwine your fingers in his.

“What would you like to eat darlin’? What are you craving,” his southern twang lingering and making you have goosebumps.

You turn your body to face him, keeping your body pressed against his still, “hmm, dangerous thing to ask,” you say shortly biting your lip as you look up at him.

He presses his lips together and chuckles, “what am I going to do with you?” You raise your eyebrows at him and he laughs.

“I need to watch myself around you,” he points his finger at you, “how about you order me whatever you get,” you say cutely.

“Sounds perfect honey,” he squeezes you before walking over the phone and ordering room service.

The food arrives pretty quickly and gets laid out on the dining table.

You pick at the fries and Elvis glances at you with intensity. You avert your eyes elsewhere. You don’t want to kill the mood but there's something weighing on your mind from this morning. What is his end goal here? Why is he paying so much attention to you?

You kind of came to terms from the moment you said you’d have sex with him that this was a one-night kind of thing. And you weren’t going to get hurt over this fact.

“Why you so quiet mama? What’s on your mind?” He asks gently.

You shoot him a small smile, “Nothing, just a little tired that’s all,” his piercing blue eyes are like daggers as he listens to you.

“I know that’s not true. What’s really on your mind?”

You take a deep breath and look up at him again.

“I just don’t want to waste your time… I’m not sure what I’m doing here again… I mean I leave tomorrow, I just didn’t think you wanted me to stay with you again,” You say bashfully.

“I like having you around. You are bright and positive, I need that in my life.”

“But your life, you have all of this, it’s not meant with me. Your lifestyle does not include me in it”

“You could be, if you wanted it.” His bluntness takes you by surprise and you blankly stare as his words echo in your head.

“Well, I’m not an idiot Elvis, I know you have other women around, and the second I leave this place I’m nothing but a memory-“

“Now that’s just not true,” he interjects.

“Yes, it is! Your reputation proceeds you! Do you know how many stories go around that a lucky fan got to spend the night with Elvis Presley?! Countless! And I’m no different. I was the lucky fan who got to have you,” you say exasperated.

“You’re different. I want you,” he growls possessively.

The hair stands up on the back of your neck as you sit there staring at the man that looks like he could jump across this table to you and pin you down.

“Maybe I should go,” you say demurely and start to rise out of your seat. In a flash, he gets out of his chair and he has his hand on your wrist.

He shoves the food off the table with his forearm in a loud grunt and it all falls in a splattered mess. He lifts you out of your chair and sits you down firmly on the table. You gasp at how rough he is being and your whole body tenses. He grabs your face in his hand and his eyes pierce into yours. Both of your chests heaving, his with frustration, yours with a touch of fear and enticement.

“Now listen to me, when I say I want you, I only want you. If I tell you, you are mine, you are all mine. And I am telling you, you are mine. I don’t give a shit what anyone else says about me and all the women before, you got it?”

You stay silent.

You try to move your face out of his hands and try to break free but he doesn’t let you. You claw at his bicep, feeling the undeniable feeling of arousal seeping through your body.

“Prove it,” you utter under your breath.

That sets his eyes aflame and he pushes your body down onto the table and drags your body down to where your ass is barely on the table. The cold table hits your back and you shiver, not only by the temperature but by the way this ravenous man looks towering over you. He spreads your legs and scrunches up your dress and places two fingers on your covered pussy. The lace panties he bought you already wet with your desire for him and his lip curls into a crooked grin because of it. He pushes those two fingers inside your weeping whole and you stare at him wide-eyed, the rougher fabric rubbing against your slick walls.

“See how wet you are for me? That’s because your pussy belongs to me. Only I can fuck you right and you know it.” He commands, ripping off your panties in one quick motion.

He unzips your dress and lifts it off your body. You sit there completely exposed, your nipples hard and your arousal leaking onto the table. He looks like a caged animal, never having seen the light of day and he finally has his way. Part of you is scared and on edge; the other part wants him to fuck you til you can’t walk right.

He takes off his shirt and then drags the zipper down of his pants, never leaving your eye contact. He slides down his pants and your breathing grows heavy when you see the size of him. His hand glides up and down on his shaft and he places his other hand on your throat, putting enough pressure on it to make an airy moan come out from you.

“See what you do to me? See how hard this cock is for you? You take me so well and I want more of you,” he growls seductively, his cock fully hard pushing up against your core. You stifle a moan as you feel him rub his head up and down your folds. He hisses as he gathers your wetness on his length.

“Goddamn mama, I need this.”

You turn your head away not wanting to give him the satisfaction yet of showing how badly you need this too.

He lines himself up and with a grunt, he pushes his entire length of you. You gasp and scratch at his back, dismayed of the feeling of him filling you up completely. You clench your teeth together as he starts fucking you fast and rough.

You’re so tight around him, squeezing his length already as you try to adjust to his size. A pleasurable pain sears through you as he takes you hard.

Each thrust is powerful and dominant. Everything about the way he’s taking you feels different in the context of the situation. Last night he started taking you slow and tenderly, then, showing who you need to listen to but now, he’s fucking you like he’s been holding back this whole time. He’s trying to prove how much he wants you but your brain won’t let you believe it right away.

You continue to try to stay silent, only the sounds of your gasps and his animalistic groans fill the room and you can tell he doesn’t like you holding back how you are really feeling.

“Look at you, wanting to scream out my name but being too damn stubborn to. Tell me how much you love it, tell me how much you need this cock,” he moans as he thrusts deeper inside you causing you to groan and squeeze your eyes shut.

This man knows exactly what to say that will make you have to roll your eyes in the back of your head.

“Look at me when I fuck you,” he demands and applies more pressure to your throat then easing up a bit.

You bite your lip and stare at his endless blues. He looks so good with how addicted he is from this power trip. Sweat starts to form on his temples and his mouth starts to open the more he swivels his hips into you.

His hand wanders down to your clit and starts to work it like only he can. You can’t hold back anymore and moan his name. You hear him chuckle as he continues to fuck you senselessly.

“That’s right lil mama let it out. Tell me how much you need this,” he commands into your ear. His skilled hands are working your body like an instrument and he knows exactly what to do to get the perfect sound out of you.

He thrusts deep and hard into you, almost knocking the wind out of you and reaching a spot inside of you that makes you feel like you can cum by just pressing there.

He keeps with this insistent, forceful pace and the coil in your belly tightens worse by the second. You start moaning his name as he fucks you faster.

“Ah, Elvis, you feel so good,” you cry out. His lip curls as you say this and grabs your breasts in his hands. He rolls your nipples in between his fingers and this causes you to arch your back.

“God baby, yes. Tell me how much you love to cum all over this cock,” He moans breathlessly. He continues to play with your nipples and plow his hips into you and you squeeze your eyes shut. All these sensations running through your body and wanting nothing more than to orgasm for him.

You scream as your body is on the brink of ecstasy. “Oh fuck make me cum, please. I love your cock baby,” He snaps his hips sharply and you suddenly feel this immense amount of pressure in your lower stomach. You whither in pleasure underneath him.

Suddenly, a burst of liquid shoots out of you and sprays all over the base of his cock and his lower stomach. You cry out, feeling so overwhelmed with all of it. He cusses as he watches you continue to squirt onto him. He rubs your clit and it brings a huge shock to your system.

“Ah fuck yes, such a good girl squirting all over me. You’re going to make me cum,” he grunts deeply through his teeth. Your walls squeeze him tightly and your vision blurs with white specs. You’ve never orgasmed so hard in your life and love the way he’s filling you so completely and so vigorously.

His hips snapping hard in you and his balls slap against your ass. He has such a tight grip on your legs, helping him move your body at the fast tempo he has produced. He looks over your body, watching your breasts bounce as he fucks you.

“I’m gonna fill you up with all of my cum now baby. Make you all mine,” you buck your hips with what he’s telling you. It’s so bad, so scandalous, you shouldn’t want him to do that, but your body is insatiable for him. A small part of you wants him to make you his own and fuck you in a way that tells him you are all his. You continue to fill the suite with your moans and cries for him and you feel his tempo become much more frantic and uneven and see his mouth gaped open.

“Look at me baby,” he orders. You shoot your attention over to him and see how serious his eyes are.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he says looking you right in the eye. Your heart races, knowing exactly what he’s asking of you.

You gasp, “Yes, I'm yours Elvis,” you say submissively.

You thrusts into you one more time and he’s stuffed inside you to the hilt. You suddenly hear him moan and feel his cock twitch inside you and feel his warm, thick seed pour into your cunt.

It’s all so overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you so intimately along with his groans of pleasure as he pumps every last drop into you. Your walls flutter and squeeze around the base of his cock as you orgasm again and cry out for him. You feel like you’re on another planet. No man should be able to make you feel like this but here you are.

He heaves on top of you, both of you trying to catch your breath as he slowly starts to pull out his cock. Your breathing is uneven and you gasp at the feeling of him pulling out of you. You cuss under your breath when you feel how used your pussy feels. You wither on the table, unsure what to do next and your core feels like you were split in half. You feel his hand on your wrist and pulls you to sit up. You start to feel both of your arousals seep out of you, rolling down your thigh, and it catches Elvis’ attention.

He drags his two fingers up your leg where his cum is leaking out and plunges them back into your pussy. A shrill cry comes out of you and stare at him wide-eyed, feeling how deep his fingers are inside of you and his cold rings hitting your clit.

“Not letting a drop come out of you,” he hisses in your ear, “you’re all mine.”

You meet his wild gaze and nod your head at him, obeying every last wish he’d ever tell you from this point on.

Tagging🖤:

@powerofelvis @plasticfantasticIOver @burninlovebutler @kendralavon7 @ab4eva @cryingabtab @peaceloveelvis @returntoelvis @woundmetender @thatbanditqueen @kaitaesupremacy @eliseinmemphis @18Ikpeters @lookingforrainbows @presleysdarling @marriedtopresley @missmaywemeetagain @literally-just-elvis-fics @flwrs4aust @prayerstopresley @kiankiwi @elvisbf @austinswhitewolf @tkappi @thatgirlarabella @arianatheangel-girl @myradiaz @homer1960 @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @cinnamonandmercury

#elvis x reader #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #austin elvis smut #austin elvis x reader #austin elvis fandom #70s elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine

111 notes · View notes

smoments · 3 months

Text

✧ part 14: memories of a stranger // a satosugu reincarnation au

❝ let's meet again, for the first time. ❞

╰┈➤ in which 19-year old gojo satoru happens upon a stranger at a cafe who speaks his name with a kind of softness and familiarity that satoru’s sure he’s heard before.

➽ chapter 14: the transience of summer

“This is pretty smart, if you think about it. They have students make the art, set up the displays alone, and take everything down at the end. And then they get the money from the whole event!”

“Satoru, they do it primarily for your benefit. It’s a good way to expand your horizons and have professionals see your work.”

“Plus, what do you mean, alone? We were there too.”

Satoru hefts the canvas up above his head just to set it back down atop the set of stairs leading outside, exhaling dramatically and shooting them a wide grin. “You’re right! Whatever would I do without you two.” He pulls them into suffocating side-hugs, beaming like a proud parent when neither of them slap him.

After a second, Shoko swats at his shoulder in a request to be released and looks at him sideways when he relents, her gaze curious.

“I told you about that one guy, right? Who was, like, obsessed with your painting?”

“For real? First I’m hearing of this.”

She tilts her head at him apologetically, fighting a smile. “Oops, must’ve slipped my mind. But he owns a gallery somewhere over in Minato, and he wanted to display it there.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks.”

“Think you’ll do it?”

“That’s… Well, wait a second. I forgot to tell you guys, but I’ve been thinking deeply about my future lately,” he starts, looking around at his friends for shocked reactions and realizing he definitely expected too much when they simply meet his gaze with blank faces, “And I don’t think I want to be an artist.”

This part captures their attention; Suguru flinches back as though slapped, and Shoko gasps like he’s just admitted to locking a very artistic body double in his basement and forcing them to make all his paintings for him.

“Excuse me?”

He waves off their concern, speaking lightly and self-assuredly. “Don’t get me wrong, I do love painting and stuff, but do you know what I like even more than that?”

“Being a bad influence on others?” Shoko offers.

“Educating the youth!”

“Half points.” Suguru tells her sagely.

“My life is not a game show.”

He chuckles at this, lifting his shoulders in surrender.

“We never said you wouldn’t be a good teacher. I bet you’d keep things interesting, at the very least.”

“Yeah, and besides, you know we don’t really care what you do. Like, it’s whatever as long as you’re happy with it.”

He gives her an indulgently gratified look as Suguru walks over to the display, checking for any forgotten pieces of the setup. “Is it just me, or was that actually kinda sweet?”

“Yeah, obviously,” she responds, mildly offended.

“Satoru?”

In spite of its softness, Suguru’s voice has a way of attracting attention, and they both look over curiously, searching his face for the same surprise that was so clearly audible in his tone.

“What’s this?”

Satoru’s eyes widen when the cool light overhead catches on a glint of gold in Suguru’s grasp, and he lets out a shriek as Shoko covers her mouth to stifle a delighted laugh.

“Shoko! Get that away from him!”

“Can’t. I’m holding this.” She lifts the basket in her hands, which would have been haphazardly put together except that Suguru turned out to have a knack for arranging gifts. He’d turned pale when Satoru announced that it was finally ready and held it up proudly for him to see, insisting that he’d clean it up a little before giving it to Shoko (Satoru was greatly wounded by this until he laid his eyes on the final product and decided his pride was a worthy sacrifice for such a beautiful result).

“And what’s the issue, anyway? I like your poetry.”

“I told you already, it wasn’t my poetry! And it didn’t rhyme, either!”

“Thank you, Satoru.”

Satoru looks up sharply when Suguru finally speaks, his face aflame, and does his very best to sound unbothered.

“It wasn’t even anything. Really. I didn’t even write it.”

Suguru smiles back at him warmly, and he feels what he’s sure used to be clear, perfectly formed thoughts falling away and melting on the floor of his brain in a pool of mush. This is definitely not healthy. Luckily for him, Shoko sets a prompting hand on his shoulder, startling him back into clarity.

“I’ve gotta get back - an American singing show Utahime accidentally got us both hooked on is airing today. Thanks for all this, though.” She gestures to the basket in her grip. “My skin gets dry sometimes, especially in winter.”

“I knew it!”

“What?… Okay then, bye.”

“Bye, Shoko.”

He loses himself in thought as watches her turn to leave, pausing to whisper something to Suguru on her way to the door. She’s only just made it down the front steps of the gallery when he calls out to her.

“And- uh- sorry I didn’t take the time to say anything to you earlier.”

She slowly spins to face him, surprise written into the curves of her face and the part of her lips, and he meets her gaze with more earnestness than he’d ideally like anybody to associate with him.

“I’m trying to work on being more proactive and stuff. Not that it’s an excuse for being so dense about what you were going through. Anyway, you needed someone to talk to, I think. I should have been that for you. So… I’m sorry.”

Shoko stills, her throat bobbing visibly when she swallows, and she laughs with that casual ease that he’s come to know her for. It’s too high this time, though; almost like she’s nervous. And he didn’t expect his words to mean anything to her, because it wasn’t as though he could actually go back and fix his maddening lack of initiative, but her dark eyebrows are uncharacteristically taut with emotion, and she’s looking at him now with something like gratitude.

“Thanks, Satoru. It means a lot.”

She waves at them quietly, then continues on her way, her other hand coming up to support the weight of the basket in her grip and her fingers tightening ever-so-slightly around the handle. She glances down at the little cat that rests right at the top, a centerpiece among the overflowing snacks and hand-picked gifts packed into the large container, and it smiles complacently back at her with those dark, painted eyes as her own lips curve upward.

“What did Shoko tell you?”

Suguru is staring glassy-eyed into the wall like he’s just witnessed something unspeakable, and Satoru eyes him with concern.

“What…? Nothing. Just to have a good day.”

“Why would she only say that to you?” He asks bemusedly, his brow furrowed. His gaze trails down the collar of Suguru’s uniform to the item in his hand, and his heart skips a beat. He reaches over to pry his fingers off of the placard and tuck it into his own pocket, thanking his luck that Suguru is so out of it he barely notices.

“Let’s head out?”

“Yeah.”

He lets Suguru lead the way, fishing through his pocket and slipping out the smooth, shiny rectangle to get another look at it.

He wasn’t thinking when he wrote it, really; the words came to him in a dream. They didn’t feel like his, and he didn’t remember ever taking the time to put them together, but the raw emotion seemed to pour from them like water, a tidal wave that sent him to his knees with how deeply it resounded in his chest, and so he allowed them to grace the placard that ended up just below his treasured painting on the wall of the gallery. Even now, his breath catches when his eyes skim the small, engraved letters carved into the golden metal, and he picks up his pace to come to Suguru’s side, trying to ignore the incessant pounding of his heart.

to you, who bloomed and fell away like a fruitless flower.

even if these days fade away, they will remain forever colored.

“we’ll meet again, right?”

words spoken in an unheard voice. in the depths of eternity left behind. scattered within a sea of endless blue.

i’m sorry we couldn’t ever reach you.

Suguru shoots him a subdued glance as he rings the doorbell beside the wooden sign that spells out ‘Fushiguro’ in dark, neat letters, trying and failing to sound exasperated.

“We saw him last week, Satoru.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been missing that kid too. You mentioned him, like, four times yesterday. You were obviously hoping I’d pick up on the subliminal messaging behind your words and come here with you.”

The front door creaks open after a notable amount of time, and a pair of large, sharp eyes peek through the gap in the entrance. Megumi’s wary gaze finds Satoru first, and his expression drops. He moves to shut the door in their faces without appearing the slightest bit remorseful about it, but Satoru sticks his foot through the gap and eases it open before he has the chance.

“We came to hang out with you!” He announces gaily, beaming down at the child through his dark sunglasses.

“Don’t you have any friends your own age?” Megumi grumbles dispassionately, but allows him to push open the door without any voiced complaint. Satoru narrows his eyes, open hands gravitating towards Megumi’s mess of hair threateningly.

“This brat-”

Suguru cuts him off by stepping lightly on his foot, making him roll his eyes and press his lips together. “Yes, of course, Megumi, but we were hoping to take you somewhere if you have time. Would Tsumiki like to come too?”

Megumi looks at Suguru with a bit more tolerance - likely thanks in part to him putting Satoru in his place. Still, he averts his eyes as soon as he’s finished speaking, resignation settling on his features.

“I can’t. I have somewhere to be.”

Satoru crouches down so they’re at eye-level, giving him a suspicious once-over.

“And where’s that?”

“None of your business.” He looks vaguely embarrassed all of a sudden and drops his gaze to the ground. “But… I have to go to a… school meeting.”

“Going to school after school? Did you get in trouble? I knew the nerd act was all a show.”

When Megumi remains silent and fidgets with his hands nervously instead of giving him the scathing look he expected, Satoru’s mouth drops open.

“Wait, for real?”

Suguru speaks up as Satoru sits there gaping, his tone gently coercing.

“What happened?”

“I have to… I did something to this guy, but he deserved it.” When he catches the look of awe on both their faces, he continues with a touch more defensiveness. “Maybe you shouldn’t be a jerk if you don’t want to face the repercussions.”

Satoru knows Suguru has been teaching Megumi new vocabulary words on top of the knowledge he must amass from the books he always has his nose buried into, but he’s still unnervingly well-spoken for a seven year old. He nods slowly, pretending to be deep in thought, and then sighs like he’s just been requested to do something horribly strenuous.

“Okay, okay, sit down and walk us through it.”

Satoru strolls past the elementary schooler and into the house, making himself at home on the small couch in the living room. Megumi gives him a look, but follows him inside silently, leaving the door ajar for Suguru to enter too.

After receiving a slightly more detailed account of the situation that leaves him feeling equal parts proud and disbelieving of the seemingly innocuous child in front of him, Satoru snaps his fingers, beaming.

“Suguru, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“God, I hope not.”

“Megumi… you just need parents, right?”

Suguru immediately understands his intentions and returns his meaningful look with a warning one.

“Satoru.”

“It’s fine! As long as they’re not, like, homophobic. And see? He looks just like us!”

He leans down next to Megumi, who is seated between them, and grins, poking his cheek in an attempt to squish his face into a smile while he struggles to get away.

“They don’t just let you do whatever, you know. I’m sure they’ll check for identification of some sort. And besides, Megumi probably doesn’t want-“

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Really?!”

Megumi rubs his cheek, which is slowly returning to its normal color, and sighs heavily.

“It’s fine. It’s better than nothing, I guess.”

“Woah, don’t get too excited there, kid.”

“And you two are… Megumi’s parents?”

His teacher, a kind-looking young woman with blond hair cut to her chin, looks uncertainly at the odd group before her - and Satoru can’t really blame her, because he and Suguru are quite clearly college students and barely old enough to drive, let alone have a seven-year-old child.

“Yes, but we really do just love him so much, and we only want what’s best for him, so I hardly think this conversation-“

Suguru cuts off his tirade with a picturesque smile, his tone agreeable.

“That’s right. Thank you for having us here. There was something you wanted to discuss?”

She shuffles the pile of test papers on her desk hesitantly, the tips of her fingers brushing the width of the stack, and then sets it down again and dips her head in acknowledgement, bringing her hands together primly. A folded paper name tag rests next to them with Ms. Nitta written in neat print and bordered by colorful, doodle-esque flowers and hearts.

“Right. So, based on what we’ve gathered from his classmates’ accounts, Megumi has been getting into fights on school property.”

Satoru bites back an ‘is he winning’ and instead gasps dramatically, putting an affronted hand to his heart as though the very idea is unthinkable. Anyway, didn’t Megumi say ‘guy’, as in singular? He was definitely not properly prepared for this. Suguru, on the other hand, is playing the role of concerned parent a little too well, especially considering his earlier protests.

“My darling child would never-“

“Was he provoked? Was it well-deserved?” Suguru inquires. “You see, I don’t think he’d go around starting trouble without reason.”

Satoru tilts his head toward him, slightly surprised at how reasonable a question it is, and Ms. Nitta clears her throat awkwardly.

“Well, perhaps, but that’s quite besides the point. You can imagine a parent’s reaction to their kid coming home all beaten up. Still… he does tend to gravitate towards those who are… aggressively inclined.”

“See? Case closed,” Satoru exclaims triumphantly, throwing up his hands. “He’s just beating up losers. He’s basically a superhero.”

She wrinkles her brow, confusion apparent on her face. “Even if we were to gloss over the other things, I’m afraid that’s not it. Megumi is undoubtedly a very smart kid, but he has some trouble getting along with his peers.”

“Aw, yeah, he’s our antisocial little… guy. He takes after this one.”

He jabs a thumb at Suguru, whose eye twitches in annoyance. He directs a tight, closed-eye smile at Ms. Nitta.

“Yes, and he gets all his agreeability from Satoru here.”

“Are you saying my son is disagreeable?! How dare you!”

“He’s fifty percent my son, too.”

“Well, I carried him for nine months, so I think I deserve at least fifty-one percent!”

“You carried him? Nobody decided that!”

“Yeah, ‘cause it was obvious that-“

“If we could keep personal matters out of the discussion…”

“Please.” Megumi agrees, making no effort to mask the disgust on his face.

“You sure this is the right classroom, right, Yuuji? Damn it-“ The sound of a rattling door knob and muffled swearing pulls them from their heated argument regarding the rightful custody of their non-rightful child, and Satoru squints at the door before leaning in to whisper to Suguru.

“Does he have… tattoos on his face?”

“Ah - this is one of Megumi’s classmates. He requested to be here today.” Ms. Nitta explains, moving swiftly to the door and turning the lock on the knob. She holds it open for them to enter, smiling down at Yuuji, who trots in second. The tattooed man gives her a gruff nod of thanks as his eyes travel the room indifferently, double-taking when he notices Megumi sitting between them.

“Fushiguro?” He nudges Yuuji with his elbow, leaning down to hiss at him in what is quite a poor excuse for a whisper. “You didn’t tell me Fushiguro would be here.”

“I did, ‘kuna,” he protests, indignant. “You were busy playing video games.”

“Huhh? I don’t think so. Anyway, let’s get this over with.”

Ms. Nitta looks to Yuuji questioningly as he and his acquaintance take seats in the tiny plastic chairs usually reserved for her elementary schoolers. Her doubtful eyes flick to the latter, who crosses his legs importantly as the bright yellow plastic squeaks beneath his weight.

“And… are you Yuuji’s father?” She winces at the thought.

“Nah, I’m his brother,” he replies, making a barely perceptible amount of effort to incline his tone towards politeness.

“Big brother,” Yuuji adds unnecessarily. “His real name is Sukuna, but I think he prefers ‘kuna.”

“I absolutely do not, brat.” He glares down at Yuuji, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks, and Ms. Nitta clears her throat.

“So, you had something you wanted to say for Fushiguro?”

“Yes!” Yuuji’s hand shoots into the air enthusiastically. He lets it hover, waiting for stated permission to speak, and she gestures for him to continue. Sukuna rolls his eyes at Yuuji’s behavior, the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Fushiguro didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Itadori-” Megumi tries self-consciously, and frowns when Yuuji waves him off.

“No! These annoying brats were bothering Junpei, and Fushiguro took care of them!”

“Whaddya mean, ‘took care of them’? He’s seven.” Sukuna replies disbelievingly. “Not some, like, old war hero-veteran.”

“So am I!”

“Yeah, exactly. You better not be beating people up, either.”

“But you beat people up.”

“Right. Because I’m a grown-up.”

Suguru appears slightly troubled at this particular thread of logic, but thinks better of voicing his concerns. “…Right. Megumi is good to go, then?”

Ms. Nitta lifts her eyes to the ceiling, apparently quantifying the emotional turmoil of having to listen to their side conversations against that of explaining to a livid parent that the child who beat up their own (rightfully, but they wouldn’t hear that) was running free without consequence. Eventually, she settles on the latter of the two evils.

“You all can be free to leave if you promise that this won’t happen again? I’d rather avoid any more trouble, and-“

The unpleasant screech of shoes against linoleum cuts her off, and they all look with interest at the young girl standing resolutely in front of the classroom door, her shoulders heaving with the effort expended on her run over. She blows a bothersome strand of brown, chin-length hair out of her face and opens her mouth to make a resounding declaration to the room that leaves little room for argument.

“Fushiguro didn’t do anything! He’s not even that strong! I bet I could beat him up.”

“If you notice any bullying in the future, just talk to me, okay, Megumi? You can’t cancel out violence with violence, can you?”

Ms. Nitta smiles, patting him gently on the head and confirming Satoru’s suspicions that resisting the gravitational pull of that porcupine hair is next to impossible.

“No, ma’am.” Megumi mutters, embarrassed. Despite his grouchy insistence that his friends didn’t need to show up for him and he would have been fine just dealing with the consequences of his actions all on his own, Satoru can tell from the lingering softness in his gaze that he’s grateful to them for stepping in.

The brief walk back to Megumi’s house passes mostly in silence. They wave him off at the entrance to his house, and he returns the gesture half-heartedly, offering them a rare smile before stepping inside and quietly shutting the door behind himself. Satoru grins to himself, warmth enveloping his body at the small act.

It goes without question that they've grown attached to Megumi in the few months they've known him - it would have been hard not to, really. He's the kind of person whose kind nature melts right through the ice around his words, his occasional moments of naivety made to feel even more precious against the dark, impenetrable backdrop of his mind.

Satoru was never so fond of children, in all honesty; as a teenager, he thought them annoying, a sentiment heightened by the resentment that welled up within him whenever he caught a glimpse of a clearly well-loved child laughing in the arms of a parent, pant knees grass-stained and clothes streaked with dirt. How could their parents still want to hold them when they looked such a mess? What had they done to elicit such affection? And what had he done wrong not to?

Satoru had always wondered if the reason that he remembered his childhood as being so lonely in spite of how many people starred in it was his ungratefulness. Maybe it really wasn't so bad. Maybe he was just a brat. There was always food on the table, after all. He was always taken care of - sometimes to the point of feeling suffocated by it. So why couldn't he stand to speak to his parents, even now?

Children brought up uncomfortable feelings. He preferred to avoid them.

But Megumi was tolerable. Not because of his independence, necessarily, but because of his goodness. It was clear that he didn't have it easy. But it was also clear that his struggles weren't rooted in some misdeed he'd committed.

How could he look at this seven-year-old child and blame him for the situation he was in? How could he even think for a second that it might be his fault?

He couldn't.

And if he couldn't do it to Megumi, he couldn't do it to himself.

So, at his most selfish, he enjoyed being around Megumi because it healed something inside him.

And somewhere along the way, it dissolved into the kind of warm affection he never thought he could feel for what was supposed to be some random kid.

Such emotional vulnerability frightened him, though, especially because theirs was a bond that seemed so precarious; each unpleasant reminder that he wasn't really theirs brought a pang to his chest. They had no real connection to him, no matter how Satoru might have tried to pretend, and no matter that his teacher now believed they were his parents. He had his own life that didn't involve them, and if he decided that he didn't want them to be part of it, that it had been fun while it lasted, but he had better things to do now, then that was it.

He would rather not consider that such an event might come to fruition. And it probably won't.

That's right- Suguru won't be so rash. He won't let his mind be clouded by emotion.

Suguru will tell him he's being ridiculous.

Satoru locks eyes with the only other person who might be able to understand the mess of emotions swirling in his chest, and immediately senses that he’s following an identical train of thought. So when Suguru speaks up, his voice soft, he isn’t particularly surprised.

“You think it’ll always be like this?”

Satoru wants to reply with the kind of incredulity he doesn’t feel; he wants to say that of course it will, that everything will turn out okay, that all of them will stay just like this forever. Instead, he lifts his shoulders in a helpless shrug.

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

They linger on the sidewalk for a second without breaking the silence that now hangs in the air between them, the spring breeze tender against their skin. And then, Suguru clears his throat, straightening up abruptly like he’s just come back to himself.

“We’re loitering.”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Loitering is dumb. What does that even mean?”

He lets out a breath of laughter, and Satoru’s mouth twitches into a grin at the gentle familiarity of the sound, fondness coursing through his chest. Then, a flash of movement in his peripheral vision directs his attention to the entrance of Megumi’s house, where a crack has now emerged in the doorway, and he blinks, wondering if he’s seeing things until a small head pokes through the gap and calls out to them in that characteristically monotonous tone.

“You said Tsumiki can come next time, right?”

It takes a moment for him to process Megumi’s words, but the second he does, a beam spreads over his face. He elbows Suguru in a way that comes off as more excited than smug like he intended, then looks over at him and finds himself unable to drag his eyes away from the wide-eyed relief on his face- even though it’s an expression that is almost certainly mirrored on his own.

When he remembers that he still has yet to respond, Satoru coughs and turns away, lifting a hand to wave at Megumi, and wonders why he feels so unexpectedly sappy when he wasn’t at all worried in the first place.

“As long as it’s not another one of your behavioral conferences, sure.”

He and Suguru exchange a fond look as Megumi rolls his eyes and shuts the door once more.

#jjk #satosugu #crying screaming throwing up #geto suguru #gojo satoru #ao3 fanfic #coffee shop au #fanfiction #alternate universe #archive of our own #jujutsu kaisen au #jujutsu kaisen

27 notes · View notes

snakxreader · 6 months

Note

This probably sounds weird as hell but gender-neutral journalist thinking that they may have feelings for wambus?

(I know that there has to be people who crush on him)

A/N: Anon. Anon the entire fandom crushes on Wambus. He is second to Floofty in the sexygrump status. You are not alone and we welcome you with open arms. Enjoy the fic!

Wambus x Journalist (Journalist Catching Feelings)

This was both mutually the worst and best thing to happen to them.

Gaining a crush on the local farmer in Snaxburg was…not their best decision. But really, could they blame themselves? Every minute they’ve spent around him, they can’t stop looking. From the moment they met him at his old garden, by the falls. The dark almost navy blue on his fur, his hard emerald eyes and grump above, he had such toned muscles.

He could throw them off a cliff that broke at least ten different bones in their body and you’d still ask them to do it again.

And maybe life would’ve been easier if it was just that, just that fleeting bit of attraction that made them stumble all over their interview with him, but the more time they spend with him? Well.

They love his puns, the dumb little ones that get a giggle out of you. How he’s always checking up on them, despite a long day. Even where more people came to town, more mouths to feed, he still found time. Gave them a packet of his sauce everyday, “To keep your’ strength up,” he said, patting their shoulder. Even inviting them to the garden sometime.

Everything about Wambus set their heart aflame and they felt incredibly dumb for it. You’re supposed to be looking for Lizbert, not trying to make out with one of her expedition members!

Deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Maybe…maybe they’d get over it. They could get over it! Just had to focus really hard on their job, find Elizabert, help out the town and they’d be so busy they couldn’t possibly think about-

“Hey there.”

They yelped, turning to face a suprised Wambus with bristled fur. The part of their brain that had critical thinking skills promptly clicked off, leaving the journalist to scramble.

“Oh, uh, hey Wambus! What-what’s up?”

“Just wanted to see if you were alright. Ya been spacing out quite hard.” He replied, his surprise adapting to a more curious look. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Just….stuff relating to Lizbert…” Not a complete lie. Wambus did have something to do with Lizbert. Either way, the farmer nodded along. “Darn shame.” He sighed, sitting down to take his hat off and wow, he looks hotter without it. “Hope she turns out safe.”

“M-me too.” The journalist stuttered.

Wambus hummed. A beat of silence passed.

“Stranger.” You jolted, turning to face him. “I know it’s…hard…not ta think of the worst case scenario. Grump knows I’ve thought it myself..but.”

He set his hat back on, staring at them with a firmness that made the journalist struggle to pay attention to his words rather than his eyes. “As cheesy as it grumpin sounds…having a bit of hope never hurt anyone. Even if you’re looking at the worst case. Even if you have to prepare for the worst.” He smiled softly at them. The journalist was grateful that the darkened sky held your blush relatively well.

“…Yeah. I know.” Even if it wasn’t exactly what was bothering them, it made them feel tons better. “Thanks Wambus.”

“Course.” He tipped his hat, before standing to stretch. “I plan on sitting here a bit longer, wanna join me?”

They tried not to think about romantic fantasies revolving around them and Wambus by a campfire. Totally not kissing him. “C-can’t. Gotta….catch a thing. For Filbo.”

“Alright. Take care now.”

“Same to you!” They said, walking away from Wambus. They waited until they were a good few feet away before groaning. They were so screwed, weren’t they? These feelings were not going away.

Grump fucking damnit.

#bugsnax #bugsnax x reader #I’m just gonna start using that for convenience sake #bugsnax journalist #the journalist bugsnax #wambus troubleham #Wambus simps come eat

36 notes · View notes

superstar-nan · 3 months

Text

Fight Tooth and Nail: Ch 6

Summary: You argue with Michael, find a crucial clue while looking at old photos with him, and decide to drop by Springtrap for a visit.

Words: 4,957

Fun stuff: Descriptions of undead bodies. Not many warnings this time around (for once).

───── (\ /) ─────

You woke strangely well-rested. Even in the haze of waking up you knew you should’ve felt exhausted and depleted, but you were oddly energized.

You sat up, propping yourself up one arm at a time. You looked up at Michael, who was tapping away, engrossed in keeping you two alive. You looked at the clock. It was almost the end of his shift. After being electrocuted, you passed out next to his swivel seat. That was disappointing, since you found nothing. You searched the entire place and found nothing .

Well, you didn’t check the other vent, but you weren’t that stupid.

Or were you...

No, you weren’t. At least not tonight.

You reached back aimlessly and snatched the control panel. Michael looked annoyed, but too busy to stop you from helping him. You began tapping on the panel, and you took a little pride in seeing the corpse’s shoulders ease in tension. The least you could do was to help ease the burden, even if just a little.

After setting into a comfortable rhythm, you noticed the dull aches in your arm and legs. You rolled your arm experimentally, the one you had twisted to pull the taser against the vent, felt pulled but not strained. You were happy about that. You were less happy with your legs, who were crusted with dried blood from where the rotted Bonnie had grabbed you with his claws. Inspecting them, the wounds weren’t deep but you would still scrub them endlessly. Plus, you would have to get a tetanus shot.

Then your gaze fell to your other hand. The one the animatronic held gently in a mock form of intimacy. It wasn’t injured in the slightest, but you wish it had been. You wished you could burn the skin off your palm where that featherlight touch held you, and you wished that after setting your own hand aflame it would somehow start his, burning him to death. Metal and rot interlocking your fingers filled your mind with angry obsession and it was the only thing you could think about. Metal and rot and metal and rot and metal and rot and metal and-

“Audio,” Michael whispered, and it snapped you out of your hatred. You tapped the ventilation with the hand that was burning with the animatronics.

You let out a sigh and leaned your head against Michael’s thigh. Michael’s own tapping stalled for a second, and his flesh depressed under the pressure of your head like memory foam (which should’ve caused flips in your stomach, but you were getting used to Michael’s state of undeath). You wondered if you were hurting him and almost lifted your head, but he resumed his checking, so you did as well.

You knew all this anger and hatred wasn’t healthy, and the fact that the killer enjoyed your hatred was even more of a warning. But it was easy . You had all this grief and fear, and if you didn’t weaponize it then it would eat you alive. You couldn’t think of the fate of your best friend because you were too busy looking for them. You couldn’t have your heart broken by their disappearance because your heart was being used to spit hatred at the one who hurt them. You couldn’t fear for their or your own safety because you were too busy fighting the thing threatening them in the first place.

In a sick twist of fate, you were glad that the animatronic was there, and wasn’t some murdered child you had to pity or a robot with no sense of morality. He was terrible, and that meant you could hate him instead of hating yourself for missing your best friend’s call when they needed you most.

The ding-dong of Michael’s alarm startled you. You looked up at the corpse as he turned off the alarm. His shift was over. You lived another night, and were still no closer to finding out what happened to them.

“You lied to me,” Michael whispered.

You checked your phone, head still resting on Michael’s thigh. The new security guard would show up soon. “You want to talk about this now? Can’t we talk when we get home?”

He scoffed, “You don’t seriously think I’m going to let you stay with me again?”

“Why not?” You tilted your head up to match his void eyes, “I’m going to keep coming back, whether you help me or not.”

He growled under his breath, a low rumble deep in his throat that sounded more discontent than threatening, “There’s the honesty...”

You went back to tapping your phone, “You wouldn’t have told me what was going on if I said I was coming back.”

“ Obviously! ” He snapped, jostling you from your ‘pillow’, “To keep you safe! ”

“I came prepared,” You stood up, stretching your legs and popping your shoulders. “You can’t say my toy distractions weren’t clever.”

“Oh yeah, so clever,” Sarcasm dripped from his tongue like acid. “So clever, in fact, that you weren’t almost killed in the vent.”

You wanted to be grateful he saved you, yet again. You wanted to make it up to him or show him your appreciation, you really did. But he was making it unbearably hard. “I had that handled.”

He was so dumbfounded, he stopped putting on his mask and turned to you. You tried hard not to sweat.

You broke under the pressure of his stare, “I almost had it handled.”

He put his mask down—you really must’ve made him annoyed if he would ignore the risk of being seen just to prove a point—and forcefully pushed a few buttons, before hitting one final button and leaning back in his chair, looking at you pointedly.

You tilted your head in question, then he nodded to the camera. It was the vent, but it was empty. The timestamp said 0:54 with the seconds counting and the day’s date.

Then you heard your own voice, “CLOSE THE VENT MICHAEL!”

He stopped the tape and crossed his arms. Well, that was embarrassing.

“...The security footage is taped?” You asked, “Can I see previous nights?”

“ Not the point ,” He hissed through his teeth. “ You are so blind to-! ”

“Whoa, lovers quarrel?” The day shift security guard knocked on the door frame. Good thing, too. You were worried a second there that your recorded cry for help would attract the animatronic, even after the night shift ended.

Michael swiveled away from the day shift guard, rushing for his mask, while you stood up to block the view. “Honestly, he’s so mean to me. He doesn’t like my taste in breakfast diners.” You said in a playful tone, “You should tell him to be nice to his partner.”

The day shift guard laughed sociably as Michael stood and grabbed his backpack, “I’m sure the diner they picked isn’t that bad, Mike.”

Michael hummed noncommittally while you interlocked your fingers with his. You held his hand with the untouched hand, with the hand the animatronic didn’t caress with violence and hunger. You did that on purpose.

The day shift guard cleared his throat, “Or maybe their taste isn’t so great...” That seemed like it had double meaning.

“See you tomorrow,” You waved at the day shift guard as you left with Michael, who stared daggers into you. You raised your eyebrows at him in response.

When the door shut behind you, the sunrise was too bright but welcome all the same. You felt the relief of fresh air and warmth that you missed while in the building. Somehow, it even relieved you of your hatred, worries, and grief—if just for one moment.

Michael swiped his hand back, “ ‘See you tomorrow?’ ” He said, his voice like gravel and ash.

“I’m coming back,” You said adamantly, your eyes narrowing at him as you stuffed your hands in your pockets to fish for your keys.

He growled your name in a warning tone, but you interrupted him.

“ I’m coming back. ” You settled your voice to be more firm, “And I’ll keep coming back, whether we work together or not.” You pulled out your keys. “We could help each other. I could help you kill-”

“You don’t know what I want.” He interrupted you, and you closed your mouth. He was right, you didn’t know what he wanted. Maybe he didn’t want to kill his dad at all? From the way he talked about him, there didn’t seem to be any love lost, but maybe you misread the situation? Or maybe he just didn’t know how?

“You’re right. I don’t,” You swallowed, “But if you told me-”

He exhaled, exaggerated and annoyed, grabbing the keys from your hands. You held up your hands in offended confusion. He nodded down at your legs. They were covered in crusted blood and five superficial lacerations each, one for each rotten claw.

“I can still drive?” You said, appalled by the audacity. Sure, you definitely needed him to drive when you had a concussion, but some scratches on your legs? You had worse injuries from using a cutting knife.

He didn’t even acknowledge your protest while he opened the door to the driver's seat, muttering, “They’re gonna think I abuse you.”

When he closed the car door, you saw your reflection in the window: the bruise around your collar like a necklace. You smothered the flame of rage in your heart as you stalked to the passenger’s side, slamming the door closed behind you.

───── (\ /) ─────

You handed Michael his soda you picked up on the way back to his place, which he snatched out of your hand and practically dropped on the counter.

“If you’re not going to leave Fazbear’s Fright alone, you need to follow one rule,” He crossed his arms as he leaned back against the counter, staring at you with stern voids. “It’s getting exhausting having to save your life every night.”

You held your hands up to surrender as you sat on his table, crossing your legs. “Alright, fair enough.”

His first rule was quick, “Don’t wander around the pizzeria.”

Your response was quicker, “No.”

“Do you want to die?” He snapped.

“No,” You uncrossed your legs and leaned forward. “But the rotted Bonnie-”

“ Spring Bonnie .”

“-Whatever! Has my only clue to my best friend’s disappearance.”

“Here’s your clue. Your friend is-” One piercing look from you, and Michael decidedly changed what he was going to say, “-not at Fazbear’s Fright.”

“Exactly, and that phone is the only clue I have for what happened to them.”

Michael groaned, “It’s like talking to a brick wall.”

“I can help you too, you know.” You said, “There’s a reason you haven’t left Fazbear’s Fright. Let me help.”

“You want to help me?” You nodded, “Stay in the office and work the maintenance panel.”

You could’ve hit him in the head, but you didn’t, gracefully . Instead, you hopped off the table and said, “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Don’t use all my soap this time,” He said, his void eyes following your leaving figure.

You just waved him off in response.

As steam fogged the mirror, you looked at your hands. They were covered in filth and grime, and one of them you wanted to burn away. You clenched them into fists as you looked up to your blurring reflection.

You pulled out your phone. You replayed the voice message aloud, and your heart felt like it was caved in. Could you have done anything if you were there? Probably not, but it did make you wish you could’ve been Michael for them. That you could’ve saved them with the two of you narrowly escaping the haunted attraction, horrified but joyously hugging each other in the morning sun. You imagined recounting sides of the story to each other and wondering who would ever believe you two. You imagined pointing out golden bunnies on Easter and giving them a knowing look. You imagined helping them move far far away from this town, to somewhere the rotted— Spring Bonnie couldn’t get either of you.

But that was a fantasy. And you couldn’t carry the weight of your memories being the last you may see them.

“ Don’t use all of my hot water! ”

You swore and turned off the voice message, swiping your tears away quickly, “ I’m not! ” You wished you could come up with something more witty or biting.

You couldn’t decipher whatever Michael grumbled from beyond the door, and that was probably for the best. You made sure to use as much soap as you wanted.

When you were done in the shower, you noticed there were no clothes on the floor like last time. Now that you thought about it, it looked like he cleaned up a bit since you were last here. Unfortunately, that left only your clothes you spent all night in.

You knocked on the bathroom door.

Micheal grunted in response.

“Can I borrow some clothes?” You asked.

You heard shuffling from the other side of the door. Then a knock came.

You opened the door. You had a towel, but Michael was decidedly looking at the floor. He held out the same hoodie you wore the day before and a pair of pants. You muttered a thanks, closing the door and slipping them on. When you came out, Michael was sitting on his bed, idly filling out what looked to be a logbook of some kind. He changed out of his security uniform into something more comfortable, which somehow looked even more out of place on his corpse-like body.

He glanced at you briefly, “You're wearing pants today.”

“Despite it all,” You said with a stretch. The clothes he gave you looked too big for him, and Michael had to be over six feet even with his poor posture. Wearing an oversized hoodie with no pants never harmed anyone.

You idly looked around Michael’s now clean room. You didn’t notice before, but he had a framed photo on his bedside table.

Michael put down his logbook, “Ready to talk about your ‘approach’ to Fazbear’s Fright?”

God, he could be condescending. You ignored him and picked up the framed photo. That seemed to still Michael, him shifting his position. It was a picture of three kids: two boys and a girl. They were all smiling except for the teenager, who looked annoyed to be there. It looked as though the picture had been cut, cropping out the parents from the photo.

“Cute,” You smiled, holding it up, pointing to the teenager. “Let me guess, this ones you?”

Michael stared daggers into you in response.

You opened up the bedside table, “Do you have more pictures?”

Michael slammed it shut, his hand over yours. Needless to say, you saw a pile of old polaroids in the drawer. Of course, he’d be the type to just keep loose polaroids around. “Don’t go looking through my things.”

“Oh, come on,” You said. “What could be more embarrassing than angsty-teen-Michael?”

He said your name as a warning.

“How about this,” You offered, slipping your hand from his and holding yours behind your back as you leaned towards him. You noticed how he subtly leaned away from you as you did so, but you weren’t offended by it. “I promise I will have a serious discussion about whether or not I wander Fazbear’s Fright after dark if you let me look through your photos?”

His brow, purple with decay, furrowed, “Whether you wander Fazbear’s Fright at all. And I don’t want to discuss it, I want you not to do it.”

“Would you even believe me if I did promise that?”

“No.”

“Okay, then I’ll promise to have a serious discussion about it.” You give him your most innocent smile, “Deal?”

He scowled and grumbled something under his breath, before letting go of the drawer. Your smile widened just slightly.

You picked up the polaroids tenderly, not wanting to ruin them, as you sat on the edge of Michael’s bed. Your smile widened at seeing photo after photo of a gloomy boy, moody teen, and excitable girl. In one, teen-Michael was wearing a Foxy mask. In another, the little girl was yanking on his arm with a toothy grin. Another, the girl and the boy were playing with toys. Another, Michael was barely an adult and wearing a new security uniform.

“These are ancient!” You said, and Michael stiffened in response. “How old are you, anyway?”

“Are you done yet?” His whole body was tense as you looked through the photos, despite how he tried to play it off as nonchalance.

“You were such a cute kid.” You said, and Michael prickled at that. You turned to him, leaning closer, “And a handsome young man, too. But I think I like the way you look now, better.”

Void eyes went wide. Michael opened his mouth to say something, his voice stuttering out a few broken syllables, before croaking, “ What? ”

“You’ve got a macabre beauty going on,” You said while you tilted your head, speaking more matter-of-factly than anything else. “A haunting kind of handsome for sure.”

You noticed for the first time Michael’s abrassed cheeks warmed a dark byzantium shade; something that was barely noticeable against the rot of his skin—making you wonder if you could’ve just missed that warmth before. It validated your statement that he was hauntingly handsome, and right after you realized that he was blushing.

Then, a scowl marred his blush, and he physically turned your head back to the photos with his spongy hands, “Finish up already.”

“Maybe you’d be a bit more handsome if you smiled more.” You teased, “Not a single smiling photo of you-”

You stopped at a picture of a much older Michael wearing a smile that looked stunning. In this picture, he was dripping with charisma; his usually bent posture straightened and eyes that sparkled with both invitation and promise. His dark hair was just starting to gray at his temples, and his body filled out his uniform well. Even from just the photo, you found yourself charmed by him.

Your grin widened with mischief, “Here we go! I was right, you look so much more charming when you smile.” You held up the picture to him.

Michael stilled, solemn and quiet. You tilted your head at his sudden change in demeanor, and then he said, “That’s not me. That’s my dad.”

Your eyes went wide. You looked back at the photo. Sure enough, there were very subtle differences between the two, but he looked just like him. You turned the photo around. Writing in old smudged ink read ‘William Afton, 1983’ .

Your hand came to your throat, fingers tenderly grazing the bruised flesh, and your eyes hardened. You shoved the photo deep into the back of the pile, “I changed my mind. You look much better when you don’t smile.”

Michael didn’t respond to that, and you were glad for that.

You flitted through the last few photos idly, having a bitter taste in your mouth from the last picture, before one caught your eye. A child was with the little girl from Michael’s photos. A child who looked familiar to you.

“This kid,” You pointed to the photo of the child with unkempt brown hair. Michael came to your side at your inquisitive tone, “I know them.”

“Charlie?” Michael asked, “How could you... Oh.”

“Yeah, I told you I wasn’t hallucinating!” You said, before looking back at the photo, “But this photo is ancient... was she one of the victims?”

Michael nodded, solemnly.

You raked your nails along your scalp with a heavy sigh, “Good lord.” You should’ve guessed the child you kept seeing was a ghost, but seeing her alive and healthy in the old photo made it more real . She was just a kid...

“Why can you see her?” Michael asked, more to himself than to you.

“Oh! She kept-” You stopped yourself for just a beat. If you told Michael she stabbed the toy phone into her chest, he’d never let you look for it. You had to come up with something else, quick. “-appearing as some sort of tall, skinny thing.”

Michael furrowed his brow. If he noticed your pause, he didn’t comment on it. He gingerly took the pile from your hands and swapped through a few photos before handing you one. He pointed at a familiar tall, odd looking puppet. “Is this what you saw?”

You nodded.

“I thought so.” Michael sighed, and the weight of it prompted you to take a closer look at him. He looked fatigued. Not just physically, but there was something heavy in those hollowed eyes of his. He carried a burden that he wouldn’t reveal to you. Regret, misery, and sorrow; all hidden behind a mask of apathy, one that cracked just enough for you to glimpse behind it. You couldn’t begin to imagine, but it looked too much for one person to bear, even for a zombie.

You placed your hand over his. When he turned to you, his mask cracked again and you could see another burden: loneliness. He looked at you with a tragic longing. You wondered when was the last time someone held his hand or joked with him or spent time with him at all. His state of undeath undoubtedly warded off most people. You didn’t want to pity him—he saved your life multiple times, he deserved more than your pity—but you couldn’t help what you felt.

Just as quickly as the mask slipped, it was sealed, and Michael pulled his hand away. He coughed, his gaze cast to the floor, before saying, “You done with the photos?”

You nodded, and he put them away. You stood up.

“Wait,” Michael closed the bedside table while looking at you, his brow furrowed. “Where are you going? You said-”

“I’m just gonna pick up some food,” You said, slipping on your shoes. They were swallowed by the large sweatpants Michael gave you. “I can’t be persuaded on an empty stomach. We can talk over din-... breakfast.”

He grumbled, leaning back against his bed frame, “I have food here.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m good on the popcorn and junk food stuffed in your pantry. What do you want? My treat.”

Michael exhaled, exaggerated and exasperated, “I don’t know... Just give me your number, I’ll text it to you.”

You handed him your phone. It was probably for the best that you had his number, anyway, with the whole ‘trying to avoid getting killed by his serial killer robot dad while fulfilling your own agendas’ thing. Still, you wished you had swapped numbers after you had picked up food.

Because you weren’t just picking up food.

───── (\ /) ─────

“Oh yeah,” The guy you talked to on the phone gave you a thumbs up, “You can totally take pictures!”

You had swung by the department store to pick up some normal clothes and a quality camera, which was now hanging around your neck. This trip was getting expensive... Good thing you didn’t have to pay for a hotel.

“Just, uh, just make sure not to get any pics of the ventilation... or the employees... or anything that might look flammable-”

You interrupted him, “I’m only interested in the decorations... and the animatronic.”

“For sure!” He grinned, “That’s perfect then. Uh, do you need someone to-”

You interrupted him again, “I remember my way around.” You waved at the day shift security guard, who waved back.

“Sweet, sweet...” The guy you talked to on the phone looked from the security guard, back to you, and then back to the security guard, “You know him?”

“My boyfriend works the night shift here.” He gave you a strange look, and you said, “That’s how I found out about this place, remember?”

“Right! Right, you said that before,” No you didn’t. “Well, go right ahead! And hey, mind if I check out the pictures after?”

Great. Now you’ll actually have to take pictures. “Of course.”

“Awesome! I’ll be around, just give me a holler when you’re done!”

You liked the attraction much much more when it was well lit and filled with people. Halls that terrified you were now bustling with conversation, and haunting decorations were now tacky in the light. You took snapshots of the empty costume pieces strewn about the attraction, and briefly you wondered if you had to make some poor minimum-wage worker clean up after all of your shattered toys.

It was strange knowing that there was a murderer hiding just out of sight, and yet people instinctively knew to avoid it. Before, you wanted people around you when you first saw Spring Bonnie. Now, it was better you were alone.

You held the camera in one hand as you approached the room Spring Bonnie was in. Before, the first thing you noticed was the smell. Now, the first thing you noticed was how still the air was. Nobody was here to fix this or that, so nobody—not even Spring Bonnie—was moving. The air was stale.

You clenched your fist, determined to quell any shaking. You had a theory the animatronic would have more difficulty moving during the day, or at least the threat of being seen by the cameras would keep you safe, but you still couldn’t suppress the visceral fear screaming at you to run. Even when you believed the thing was just an old oversized toy, you had that fear.

You were getting better at facing your fears, however.

There was Spring Bonnie, alone and illuminated by dull, droning lights. Your grip on your camera tightened. You looked back at the hall. There was no one.

“Hi, William.”

Silver eyes flicked to you. You almost flinched. You forced yourself to steel your gaze. He wasn’t bolting for you. That had to mean something.

You were bold enough to step closer. His eyes watched you. He always watched you, so carefully. He watched you as he hunted you down, as he choked the life out of you, as he made you choose between your hand or your life, as you demanded answers from him. And now, all he did was watch.

Your eyes quickly darted to the security camera. You couldn’t tell if the security guard was looking at this cam or not. Just as quickly, you retrained your eyes on Spring Bonnie. Taking your attention away from him for too long was basically asking him to murder you. “Heard a bit about you from Michael.”

A noise that sounded like mechanical gears turning came from the animatronic, but he made no movement other than that. You took courage in that.

“Thirty years in that suit must've been pretty painful,” You stepped closer. You were baiting him on purpose. “And alone? Did you lose your mind—what, ten years in?”

Even taunting him, he didn’t move. You prayed that was proof he couldn’t. You swallowed. You set down your camera. Each movement you took was incremental. Deliberate. The slightest of motions would set you off screaming and running for others.

You felt invigorated by this sudden power. You could move and he couldn’t. Your head felt light from the relief and arrogance. “Do you still feel the pain?” You dared to say.

His eyes clicked, focusing on you as all he could do was watch. All he could do to you was watch . You would make him watch as you eat his heart.

You were close enough for him to grab you. As close as you were in the vent. He didn’t move. “Did it hurt last night?”

He only watched.

You stepped closer. As close as you were when he choked you. He didn’t move. “I hope it did.”

He only watched.

You stepped closer. He didn’t move. “And if it didn’t.”

He only watched.

“ I hope this does. ”

You plunged your hand into his chest, and suddenly a claw was around your neck. Your breath and power were gone. Replaced with terror . You waited to be torn to shreds.

You waited...

Fingertips sharp as knives poked at your skin, but your neck wasn’t being squeezed. You looked up at Spring Bonnie, sweat dripping down your face. His silver eyes were so close, his permanent grin, and you could see the outline of a corpse deep inside. If he felt anything other than deep, encompassing hunger , you couldn’t tell. You swallowed, and your throat bobbed against his claws.

He didn’t move. His claws framed your bruise, showcasing it in a haunting display. His silver eyes, both mechanical and human, stared at it hungrily; his own handiwork mesmerizing to the robot and the killer. You didn’t know how he managed to get a claw around your neck. Maybe it was painful or provoking enough to let the killer take control if for only a moment. Maybe he could move all along and he was toying with you. You hoped it was the former.

You peeled yourself away from his grip, wincing as the claws sliced your skin, lightly. You touched the lacerations. Blood. When you were free, you ripped your hand out of his chest.

With your best friend’s phone in your hand.

A huge grin stretched across your face as you took steps away from the animatronic. You waved it tauntingly at Spring Bonnie, who’s silver eyes followed it devotedly, before snatching up your camera and running into the hallway.

You got it! You got it! Shattered, smelly, and all; you got your best friend’s phone back! And now, you were one step closer to finding them. Or... finding what happened to them.

Your own phone pinged. You pulled it up. It was Michael.

‘what is taking so long??’

Even Michael’s nagging couldn’t deflate your elation.

24 notes · View notes

aki-mochi · 5 months

Note

Heyy 👋 can i request Chubby!Levi Ackerman x F!reader if it’s possible ? And thank youu ❤️!!

(It took me SO LONG to find a plot for this! Anyway, Hope you enjoy!)

Chubby!Levi x F!Reader: Pudgy is Okay

~Normal POV~

Three years after the Rumbling had ended, the Eldian heroes’ had gone their separate ways. Armin and his group were currently on a ship heading to Paradis Island to visit Mikasa at Eren’s grave, as Levi stayed behind with Gabi and Falco to help the volunteers feed and shelter the remaining survivors. Although wheelchair-bound with two missing fingers and a blind eye, Levi was currently passing out candy and sweets to the children at the refugee camp. Once the box was empty, he wheeled himself back to his tent, indicating that he was done for the day since the sun was starting to set over the horizon. His mind wandered back to the events of the war as he rolled down the smooth dirt path, not watching where he was going until he bumped into someone’s leg with the chair’s footrest.

“Ow!”

Levi blinked back to reality and rolled backward as the woman in front of him knelt to rub at the spot he had hit. “Are you ok? I wasn’t paying attention…”

“Yeah, I’m fine…,” she spoke until she turned to face him.

His functioning eye widened a bit at the sight of her, utterly surprised to see her again from his first time in Marley with Hange and the others. It was when Eren and the brats decided to drink with the Romans after one of the kids had taken Levi’s money. He had spotted her sneaking blankets to several tents as if she was helping the people living in them. Even though she is a Marlyan. He didn’t catch her name that night, nor did he want to, at risk of getting her into serious trouble. So, he kept his distance and just watched as she did her thing.

The woman’s eyes scanned him down before tilting her head a bit to the side. “Have we met? You look familiar somehow…”

“Not officially. But, I think I saw you a few years ago. Sneaking blankets to the refugee camp?” he raised a brow, hoping his intuition was correct.

She blinked. “You saw that..?”

“I did. You did well in doing that. Risking your life for others makes you brave.” A minuscule smile tugged at his lips when he saw her cheeks go aflame. “The name’s Levi.”

“I’m Y/n,” she smiled a bit. “Shall I help push you to your destination?”

Levi pondered the offer for a moment before giving a nod in response. She walked around to get behind him and grabbed a hold of the handles of the chair before proceeding to push him down the path. The walk was silent other than the distant chatter of people and children running about. She often glanced at his bandaged hand, noticing the missing digits as a frown made its presence on her face. She couldn’t imagine the hardship and sacrifice he endured for there to be a future for the world’s remaining population.

“Hey. My place is right here,” Levi pointed, snapping her out of her thoughts as she turned him to push him inside.

There weren't many possessions in the small space, other than a bed, chair, blankets, clothes, and a pillow. Although he probably had all of his stuff back on Paradis, he surely wasn’t planning on going back anytime soon. She noticed a small box in the corner with a fragile tea set sitting on top of it. Levi grunted as he slowly rose from the wheelchair to move onto the chair by his bed. Y/n helped by being his support, having him hold onto her arm so he wouldn’t fall over and injure himself any more than he was. He sighed as he got comfortable and looked at her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If I may ask, how did you get injured?”

“It’s a long story…,” he trailed off.

“I have time. Even though we’ve all heard the story of how the war ended, I’d like to hear your version of it.”

Levi looked at her in slight shock. No one had asked to hear his side of the story, though he wouldn’t blame them since they probably avoided him due to his scars. But her? She didn’t even hesitate to ask, nor did she show any reaction to his appearance. Gesturing towards his bed, he watched as she sat herself down next to him as he began to tell his story. From the day Paradis had discovered life outside the walls they hid behind, to the day the war had ended as she listened intently.

~Timeskip~

Months have passed and the refugee camp is slowly starting to become a village. Houses were being built, trees had been planted, the grass started to come back, and people were getting more resources like food, clothes, and spare blankets. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits and began to plan a small party for their massive milestone. However, Levi seemed to be in a sour mood the last couple of weeks while avoiding Y/n like the plague.

Y/n doesn’t know what had gotten into him and it hurt her deeply. One night, they were both in his new place having tea as they talked, and then the next morning, he completely brushed her off. It confused her to no end as to why he suddenly started giving her the cold shoulder. As the days went by, the more heartbroken she was becoming, for she fell in love with him. But he won’t even look in her direction anymore whenever she attempts to get answers as to why.

Y/n was making her way down the familiar path going back to her tent after helping the volunteers with food portions again, when she had stopped in front of Levi’s place. Her heart ached at the thought of him as she held back every urge to knock on his door, even though she wouldn’t get an answer from him. Swallowing a lump, she continued her walk until she spotted someone in the distance. And that someone being Levi due to the obvious object of his wheelchair being in sight. However, he wasn’t in his chair, instead, he was attempting to do pull-ups on a bar that wasn’t there before. She watched as he struggled to get his chin past the bar since it was probably straining the hand with fewer fingers.

He cursed as he lowered himself into his chair, sitting there in silence while his head hung low on his shoulders. Y/n frowned and made her way over to him until she was able to hear him scold himself for his failure.

“Fuck. At this rate, I’ll get even weaker and I can’t let that happen.”

“Levi…?”

Levi snapped his head up and blinked in surprise when he saw her. His eyes furrowed into his usual glare at her, making her flinch a bit as her frown deepened.

“What do you want?” His words were cold like ice.

“I… was walking until I saw you here. What were you doing?” She hesitated.

“It’s none of your damn business.”

His words stung, and here she was concerned for his well-being despite how he’d treated her these last few weeks. It wasn’t like he wanted to in the first place. He fell in love with the woman in front of him and had planned to tell her his feelings. However, that one morning he had gotten his usual check-up to monitor his still-healing injuries. And he had found out that he’d been gaining a bit of weight. He couldn’t do his usual exercises like he used to back in the Scouts due to his knee. So, the lack of movement and the foods he consumed in the three years had taken effect on his body physically. His muscles were nearly gone. He didn’t have that toned body he worked so hard to get anymore, he was practically pudgy now. Even his cheeks were rounder. He figured Y/n wouldn’t want that in her life. No one else he knew wanted that, saying it’d be too much for them.

So, he pushed her away and started acting cold towards her. It hurt him to do such things when she didn’t deserve it. But he had to do something about his weight, and he would just make her worry to death for pushing himself too much. Looking up at her, his breath nearly hitched when he saw her upset expression. She was on the verge of tears, and it was all his fault. Y/n turned her heels to walk away but Levi grabbed her hand to prevent her from doing so, forcing her to stay put but keeping her back to him so he wouldn’t see her cry.

“Y/n, I… I didn’t mean what I said…”

“If you needed space, you could’ve told me… instead you pretend I don’t exist or become mean for no reason…”

He could hear her voice crack as she spoke, tugging at his heartstrings more than they were. He gently tugged her back to him but she refused to budge. Levi sighed as he glanced over at the bar he was previously using.

“I’ve gained a bit of weight as of late… so, I’ve been trying to get rid of it so you wouldn’t have to deal with it since you’ve helped me so much..” he admitted.

“Why would I care…?”

Levi frowned at her response and tried to answer, but was cut off as she continued.

“Why would I care about your weight…? Have you ever stopped to wonder if I ever cared about how you look?”

“I…” he trailed off.

Y/n finally turned towards him as tears bubbled her vision. “I don’t care if you're muscular or if you're bigger than what you were before. I fell in love with you as a person, not your body. But that’s all you cared about and didn’t consider my feelings when you brushed me off.”

“Y/n…”

“I-I love you…. but you don’t return the feelings…” she sobbed.

Levi pulled her closer so he could bring her into his arms on his lap. The sudden move made her gasp in surprise as she looked at him through her tears. He reached up to cup her face with his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb while wiping away the tears in the process.

“I do return the feelings.”

“But-”

He shushed her with a finger on her lips. “I love you.”

With that, he removed his finger and pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was surprisingly soft and sweet as her eyes fluttered shut, returning the gesture as she cupped his face in her hands. Levi sighed into the kiss while he held her closer to his body, his arms wrapped around her waist as he ran his hands up and down her back soothingly. When he pulled back ever so slightly, he looked at her through half-lidded eyes as their breaths brushed against each other’s, which sent shivers up their spines.

“I do love you… would you mind spending the evening with me?” he questioned.

“Of course, Levi,” she smiled with rosy cheeks.

With that, Y/n carefully got up off his lap, aware of his weak knee, and walked around to grab at his chair's handles to push him to their destination. Levi watched as he rolled towards his home, glancing back at her now and then to make sure she was alright. Catching his gaze on her, Y/n looked down at him and smiled before getting to his front door. Levi watched as she opened his door and pulled him through the doorway backward. Once the front door closed, Levi rolled himself through the house, making her follow him until they got to his bedroom.

It was getting late, so Levi decided to get ready for bed a bit earlier than usual. Y/n watched as he got into his dresser and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of pants then set them on the bed. Her cheeks flushed when he started to unbutton his shirt. She went to leave the room but his voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Don’t leave… I… want you to see what you’ll be dealing with…,” he hesitated.

At that, she turned around just in time for him to slip his shirt off his body. No abs in sight, his arms more softer, and his face looked squishy at the cheeks. He had, indeed, gained some weight within the last three years, but that didn’t mean anything to her. He was still the Levi she grew to love. She stepped closer and cupped his face in her hands, watching them squish together as she did while he gave a pout. A blush crept up her cheeks at the reaction she got from him as he half-heartedly swatted her hands away.

“Stop that.”

“But it was cute~” she giggled.

“I am not cute,” he huffed.

Y/n just smiled and helped him out of his chair and onto his bed before helping him with his pants. Levi’s ears flushed as she did so, not used to anyone helping him, nor had anyone seen him with no clothes. When she saw the scar on his knee where a titan had bit him, a frown made its way onto her features as she gently traced the edges of the scar. A shiver ran through his spine from the feeling, hence that the injury was still sensitive to the smallest touch. When Y/n had finished helping him, she cupped his cheek once more, stroking under the eye he could not see out of.

“You’re still handsome to me, Levi, and your weight is not ‘something to deal with’. But if you still want to lose it, I will help and support you.”

He hummed at her words until he took hold of her hands and pulled her down onto the bed with him. He wrapped his arms around her waist while burying himself in her chest, letting out a sigh of contentment when he felt her fingers run through his hair until he started to drift to sleep. Y/n noticed his body had relaxed as his breathing slowed as she carefully shifted to pull a blanket over them both. Kissing the crown of his head, she too, began to fall asleep with Levi in her arms as she hoped for a bright and long-lasting relationship in their future.

44 notes · View notes

wrenreid · 1 year

Text

Just Acting

mature content warning for this story

Chapter Twelve

You lay down on the bed for a moment, a headache from all that's going on squeezing your brain. You're glad to be alone right now. To process. Matthew is probably the most confusing man, no, person in the world.

You had changed into an FBI hoodie you'd gotten when you joined the show, some cozy shorts, and fuzzy socks, forcing yourself into some comfort.

AJ and Adam come in your room to check on you. "Hey Y/n, you want to do something with us?"

"I'm not really in the mood,” you tell them, not looking up.

"You okay?" Adam asks, his head tilting.

"Just in a shitty mood."

"Yeah so is Matthew. What's up with him?" AJ asks.

"Something must've bit his dick harder than usual today. He's an ass.”

"I'm sorry, Y/n,” she says softer. It’s been pretty obvious to everyone that things have worsened between us.

"It's fine. I love being hated, ya know?" You laugh playfully.

She puts her hand on your knee. "I can talk to him?"

"No need. Y'all go have fun. I'll join you guys tonight."

They nod their heads and leave with sympathetic looks.

This weekend was supposed to be fun. But of course, Matthew had to ruin it. You should've known better than to believe he could actually be decent for a few days. You came here worried it would go wrong, and it somehow ended up worse than you could've imagined.

He'd literally told you your existence pissed him off. And then said he was attracted to you. In a rude tone. And a stupid rude look on his face.

Fuck him. Fuck this whole thing. You don't need him to ruin your weekend. You get up, slipping in your white sneakers, and head outside to meet the rest of the cast. Matthew is no where to be seen.

The 7 of you talk and walk outside for a while. The sun setting, leaving the sky in an orange, pink, and blue glow. Normally, you'd take a picture of the glowing sun reflecting off the lake, but you want to enjoy the moment. Plus, Joe locked your phones in a drawer.

"Ooh we should make s'mores!!" You suggest with excitement.

"Ooh yes!" Paget responds.

"I'll go get the stuff,” Daniel says.

You volunteer to go with. You, Daniel, and Adam head to the small grocery store a few miles from the lake house.

"Ya know?" Adam starts while he's driving. "I've never seen Matthew act this way."

"I don't want to talk about Matthew," you say from the front seat.

"I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hatred for me,” you huff out.

"More like sexual frustration," Daniel says quietly from the back.

"What?"

"Nothing,” he brushes his mumbling off.

The three of you head to the store and grab chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers. You pick out some random metal pokey thingies to roast the marshmallows on.

You guys check out and head back into the car. You put on some music, even though it's only seven minutes of driving, because you don't want the boys to bring up Matthew again.

When you guys get back, you set up chairs around a little fire place outside the house and Joe starts the flames up. You go inside to get the booze. You down a whole glass of wine before bringing the rest of the booze out to your friends.

"Alcohol and fire. That's one hell of a mix," Daniel says.

You shrug, taking a drink of whatever concoction Joe had made this morning. You sit down beside Adam and Paget and jab a marshmallow on your metal stick. You stick it right in the fire, letting it catch aflame. You blow it out after a bit, then make your s'more. "What?" you say to everyone looking at you, "You gotta burn the bitch."

The seven of you hang out for a while until Matthew comes out to see what everyone is doing. He sits down. "Glad you joined us, Gube," Joe says with a smile, handing him a marshmallow.

You avoid his gaze, only talking to or looking at the others. Then, you decide to be a complete bitch for a moment. You catch his eye, stare him down with eye contact, and suck the marshmallow right off the stick. You smirk. Luckily for you, everyone else was way too busy laughing and joking to see this.

He looks away, not sure what to do. You suppose the alcohol clouded your judgment for a bit, or maybe just the fact that he fucking frustrates you.

"Hey Adam, can I have a drink of that?" you say, indicating to the drink he's sipping on. This was just another thing you wanted to piss Matthew off with. Maybe it'll work, maybe it won't.

"Uh sure," he hands it to you.

You take a drink of it, on the same side he was drinking from. When you're done you give it back to him, winking at Matthew. His nostrils flare. Finally, he's had enough. "I'm going to get a drink." He says, stands up, then disappears into the lake house.

You can't help but have a smug look on your face when you get up to follow him inside. You wouldn't do that if you didn't actually need to pee. You pass him in the kitchen, going upstairs to the restroom. When you come out, you see Matthew walking up the stairs.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Oh that back there? That was me knowing that my existence pisses you off, so I might as well have fun with it." You cross your arms.

"I didn't mean that," he sighs.

"Didn't mean what? That you can't stand me? That you can't even look at me?"

"I didn't say that. I said that looking at you makes me want to..."

"Want to what? 'Cause actually you never finished that sentence,” you say, tone of voice pushing him.

Before you know it, he's rushing at you. His lips connect with yours, hands on the side of your face. You're kissing him back. You're standing in the hallway between your rooms, kissing the guy you can't stand. His tongue winds up in your mouth and yours in his. He opens his bedroom door behind your back without parting your mouths.

You're in his lap, hands in his hair, tugging. Matthew's hands are on the back of your thighs as you straddle him. "You're such a fucking brat, Y/n,” he says, pulling back for air. You shut him up again with your mouth on his. You take his lip between your teeth, and he groans. In that moment, you forget everything. Everything but the two of you is gone-

"Jordan," you breathe, standing up.

"Yeah that's not my name,” Matthew says, looking up at you.

"Fuck. Jordan." You remember, you run your hands through your hair. "Fuck fuck fuck." You storm out of his room and into yours. He stops your door from slamming.

"Y/n,” Matthew says gently.

"No. Shut up. I have a boyfriend."

"C'mon,” he starts.

"No. Stop,” you're trying to slow your breathing down. "Ya know what? That didn't happen." You gesture with your hand between the two of you.

"Your swollen lips say otherwise,” he remarks.

He's such a bitch.

"No. It didn't. It was a spur of the moment idiotic thing from alcohol and frustration...Why did you kiss me?"

"Why'd you kiss me back?" he retorts.

"No. None of that shit." You say, gesturing his smirking face.

"You can't tell me you didn't feel that,” Matthew says.

"Actually I can. Because I didn't feel whatever the fuck you felt unless it was anger."

"Y/n..."

"Just go,” you tell him, running a hand through your hair.

He opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't. The first good decision he's made in a long time.

You plop back down on the bed, burying your head into the pillow. You scream into it, the sound only coming out as a muffled groan. You stay like this until Aisha comes up to your room around midnight.

"Hey girl, what's up?"

"Just annoyed,” you tell her, but you don’t entirely mean at Matthew this time.

"Ah, sorry,” she nods.

"It's fine," you sit up against the headboard. "I'm fine. I just need a shower." Yes that's it. A shower will help you feel better. Maybe.

You let the water hit you as you try to wash away the whole thing that just occurred with Matthew. You wash off his taste on your mouth. You don't know why the hell you did what you did. You could've pushed him away, but you didn't. You lost control. You never lose control. You don't even see him like that. All he is to you is a stupid castmate that loves pissing you off. That's all.

You wake up earlier than everyone else. You barge into Matthew's room, waking him up.

"You here for another makeout shesh?" He asks, gloating.

"No. I'm here to tell you that last night was obviously a mistake, and I'm sorry I kissed you back. It was stupid,” you say to him.

He nods his head, agreeing. “I’m sorry I kissed you.” There's something in his voice you can’t detect.

"I think it'd be best if we didn't talk to each other other than when filming,” you suggest, your head down.

"Oh,” he says. "What about the bonding?"

"Shit." You can't lose your job over this. You need this job. You love this job. "Fine. Bonding. But when we're together we're Delilah and Spencer. That's it."

"Right. Delilah and Spencer,” Matthew nods.

chapter thirteen

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @scarredelirium @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx @r3idsp3ncer @1010lizz @tiredbut-here @skulzombiw @lena-1895 @eevee0722 @danis-stuff-is-here @kylakins88 <3

198 notes · View notes

jackpotgirl · 2 years

Note

Chenford ❤️ + this isn't one of your pranks

Tim said it and hurt/comfort or angst! 🥰

This is inspired by the press release for episode 5. It ended up more a sick-fic. So Physical!hurt/comfort. I hope that's okay with you, nonnie :)

***

His whole body ached. That's the thing they don't tell you about gunshot wounds. If the projectile hits the right, or better the wrong spot, the pain radiates through your bones like a laser, obliterating everything in its path and setting it aflame.

It was that damn old injury again, that one graze shot he had caught when he was barely out of police training that he always claimed hadn't been more than a bee sting when it happened. Most days that was even true, but sometimes he'd sit wrong or bump into something or fall or get punched just in the right, or better the wrong spot, and it would throw him headfirst into a world of pain.

His head spun, the impact of the fall he had taken pursuing a suspect on foot had subsided but the pain was crushing and he hated to admit it, but he didn't think he'd be able to get up on his own.

The humiliation only got worse when Thorsen caught up with him, tried to help him get back on his feet and couldn't carry him two steps before Tim winced and froze on the spot like a laming horse . He hadn't had an episode like this in forever. Thorsen was gracious enough not to comment on how long it took to get Tim back into the shop but he also wouldn't take no for an answer calling Tim an ambulance. This was ridiculous and if Tim wasn't half mad with agony, he would have put up more of a fight.

But as it was, he ended up in hospital for a check up and returned home with Angela, the order for strict bedrest and a small bottle full of opiods. She helped him walk half-upright, half-crouching to his couch, deposited him there and asked him if he'd be alright.

He groaned, flinching at a new wave of pain but nodded. Still, when Angela wanted to hand him his painkillers, he swatted them away, shaking his head. He wouldn't mess with that stuff. He knew the toll it could take, knew the slippery slope and what opiod addiction made out of people. He had seen enough folks waste away on Skid Row to want to stay far far away from that shit.

"I'll make do with Ibuprofen, thank you," he said and Angela frowned at him.

"I'll have Lucy come by, check on you later," she said eventually, relenting.

"Please don't," he winced and thought he might actually die if Lucy saw him like this.

"I don't think I could keep her away if I tried," Angela said and tilted her head. "You know she's probably already sharpening her knifes to prepare the 'Get-Well-Soon'-Charcuterie-board."

"Well, I can't get off this couch to let her in anyway," he huffed.

"Oh Tim, Tim, Tim," Angela sing-songed, smirking devilishly. "You know that I'll happily hand over your house keys."

"Angela!" He warned but she just left, laughing.

And sure enough, as the sun began to set and Tim deliberated peeing his pants over getting up and fighting for his life on the way to the bathroom, his front door opened and Lucy let herself in. She was carrying a comically large baskett full of goodies and he was pretty sure he actually did spot a Charcuterie board among the assorted gifts.

“Hey,” she said and smiled brightly and it hurt, not just because everything hurt.

She hadn’t looked at him like that in weeks.

“Heard you might be in need of a nurse,” she quipped and set down the basket. “I brought you a little something-something to lift your spirits.”

Tim fought a new wave of nausea, tried to hide it, but Lucy, ever perceptive, picked up on it immediately.

“Can I help you?” She asked, making her way over to the couch and hovering by the end of it.

Tim wanted to die - but he did actually need help and although he cringed at himself and couldn’t actually open his eyes as he said it, he had to: “Matter-of-fact, I need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh,” Lucy said. An excrutiating pause. Tim clamped his eyes shut. “Of course,” said Lucy.

Next thing he knew, Tim had to open his eyes to see where he was going because Lucy was practically manhandling him, surprisingly strong for such a slender person. She lifted him off the couch and had him on his feet in record time and he bit his cheek trying to keep from moaning pain. And managed, at least until they’d almost reached the bathroom.

The coconut-scent of her hair right under his nostrils was almost enough to distract him from his woes but only almost.

“Ahh,” he hissed, when he put his weight onto his right foot wrong and felt her arm tighten around his side, shooting a different kind of jolt of electricity through his body that settled in the pit of his stomach and mixed in weirdly with his general discomfort.

“You okay?”

“Hm-hm, yeah,” he bit out and grabbed the doorframe of the bathroom. “I got it from here, be right out.”

Tim closed the door and pushed himself along the wall to sit down on the toilet after having shoved his pants and underwear down his legs with some effort. He was bewildered by the fact that he managed to get half-hard just then, just through a few moments of proximity, despite everything hurting. He had to wait a second to settle down before he could pee but once he did, he allowed himself to savour the brief relief. It was going to be so embarressing when he got out of there again.

“Um, so, I called Ashley,” Lucy said from behind the door as soon as he’d flushed.

And apparently it could get pretty embarrassing in there just as easily. Fuck.

“I wanted to know if I could bring anything in particular you needed and I assumed she’d be here,” Lucy continued and then seemed to fizzle out because Tim already knew what Ashley would have told her.

“Yeah,” he sighed, trying hard to form a coherent sentence as he quickly washed his hands. “We kind of broke up. A while ago.”

He pulled himself together and further toward the door by the handle and pushed it down to open it to find Lucy waiting on the other side, looking up at him quizzically.

“So,” she started. “Since I got tomorrow off, I thought I could keep you company and see that you git everything you need.”

“Won’t Chris mind you being gone?” Tim heard himself ask before he could stop his stupid mouth from speaking.

“I don’t think he cares at this point,” she replied after a moment, her eyes downcast.

Oh. Oh, this was dangerous.

Tim knew immediately. He didn’t really have to ask. He did it anyway.

“Did you guys...?”

“Hm. Yeah,” Lucy nodded at her shoelaces. “A while ago.”

She fell silent and Tim thought of a million things to say but she cut him off -physically, too, becasue she reached around his waist again and dragged him on.

“Let’s get you horizontal again,” she declared and dragged him on - not back to the sofa but in the direction of his bedroom.

Oh yeah, this was going to be very dangerous. Nothing would happen of course, because Tim could barely move and he was in a lot of pain. But now that they’d both said it... that they were both single, all of the unspoken things that had built up between them since Las Vegas and after, crashed back into their midst like a third presence.

Lucy gently but assuredly helped him get down onto the bed and onto his bed and then she stood there for a second, a little lost as to how to proceed. He couldn’t help her. At once, he felt like a thirteen year old boy on his first date.

She was in his bedroom. Lucy was in his bedroom and his dick was beginning to stand to attention again, ever resilient. He shifted uneasily and she cleared her throat.

“I’m gonna get you a glas of water,” she said and then dissappeared down the hall.

Tim let his head fall into his pillow and stared at his ceiling. Everything ached still, but now in more ways than one. He wished his brain wasn’t as foggy from everything, wished he could have an actual conversation. Because a world of complications but also promise and opportunity had just opened up for him, yet he felt like he didn’t have the capacity to deal with it right now.

Lucy returned quietly and set down a glass of water beside him on the bedside table.

“I’ll let you get some rest, I’ll be in the living room, catch up on some Drag Race,” she said and turned on her heel.

“Lucy,” Tim sighed before he could think better of it. “Stay. Just lie with me for a while, yeah?”

Lucy didn’t say anything. But she did round the bed and laid down next to him and together, they both stared up at his non-descript white plastered ceiling.

Finally, after an age (or two to three minutes), Lucy spoke.

“I broke up with Chris,” she said quietly. “Because I have feelings for you.” Tim held his breath, couldn’t help it, really. “And I know that it’s complicated and that I was your rookie and you outrank me and that might look weird. And eventhough I’m no longer your go-fer, you’re still my superior and we might as well ride together again some day... I don’t want things to be weird or difficult for you but I know, I know there’s something between us and if I’ve learned one thing during this whole Rosalind-mess, it’s that life is short and I think we owe it to ourself to at least be honest with each other. If it can’t happen, fine. But I can’t keep pretending that I don’t think about you... every second of everyday since Las Vegas. Since before, really, if we do decide to be honest for once...”

Lucy stopped and fell silent. And for once, Tim’s various aches faded into the background of his mind. Everything she just said took him completely out of his body. One, because he had been waiting for weeks on end to hear her say it and two, because he heard her say it before.

“This isn’t one of your pranks, is it?” He asked and a part of him was legitimately scared that she would start giggling and turn it all around on him yet.

But instead she rolled onto her side and he did the same, eventhough he was shaking with a bout of fresh agony he did his damndest to push down.

“I’m completely, desperately serious,” she confessed, her eyes swimming in a way that made him cup her cheek on instinct. “I’m pahetically in love with you, Tim.”

He shook his head, despite the searing pain the movement caused. “Not pathetic. Not at all.”

“No?” She looked so fragile but at once blazing, like a battle angel, unbreakable yet soft and so, so beautiful.

“I want to kiss you so badly right now,” he admitted, barely louder than a whisper. “But I think my body can’t handle anything more tonight. I think I might actually die.”

Lucy chuckled and he could tell it surprised her herself. “Well then we should get you back to health as fast as possible.”

Fuck, he loved her. He loved her so goddamn much. With his whole guarded, fenced-off heart. She was everything.

“Or you know, we try it anyway,” he murmured. “No way I’d rather go out.”

And with the last of his strength, he pushed forward and kissed her, and when she kissed him back, he swore he couldn’t feel anything but the pressure of her lips, the taste of her tongue, and her feelings sneaking around his body.

It was true, if he died like that, on the spot, it would have been worth it.

#chenford #chenford fic #chenford mini fic #chenford as fic #the rookie fic #i think I'll put these on Ao3 too

113 notes · View notes

spiralcass · 6 months

Text

NEW X-MEN: THE ANIMATED SERIES - SEASON 3, EPISODE 3

We open on a beautiful day in Nova Roma, a hidden city in Brazil within the Amazon, built to resemble ancient Rome, with even the citizens dressing like Romans. People are happily going about their day, shopping at the market while children run around and play.

At the massive, centurion-guarded Aquilla Estate, we’re introduced to Amara Aquilla AKA Magma, living like a Disney princess as she swans around her mansion playing with exotic animals, munching on fruit, politely greeting guards and servants, and lighting candles by shooting flames out of her fingertips.

Kissing her father on the cheek good morning, Magma informs her father that she’s off to go play with some of the city’s children, as she promised.

AMARA: “I sometimes fear they enjoy the company of Magma more than they do Amara, but I am hardly one to speak on being shallow.”

Her father laughs. She shouldn’t say such things about herself. She’s hardly the same spoiled girl she was when she was younger. He had his doubts when he sent her to live with Professor Xavier, but the experience molded her into a fine, mature young woman.

Amara is embarrassed by her father’s praise and quickly changes the subject. Namely to how, whoever they’re interested in playing with, those kids need her. There’s been some scary stuff going on in the world lately, and Nova Roma isn’t as disconnected from it as it once was.

AMARA: “Iara seems especially troubled. She keeps crying every time her parents tell her they’re out of fish.”

Her father is sure that whatever is going on, Magma will get her through it; she’ll help them all.

Suddenly, a booming, unnatural thunder strike is heard.

Amara transforms into her Magma form and rushes outside, telling her father to stay here while she looks into this.

Outside, Magma is horrified as her city has been set aflame, and the one clearly responsible stands in front of her, flanked by a horde of demons, and looking positively fabulous.

MAGMA, pissed and scared: “Selene.”

SELENE, sickeningly sweetly and not looking a day over 30: “Hello… granddaughter.”

Magma slams her hands on the ground and causes a volcanic eruption directly underneath Selene, but it fails to even phase her. Selene knocks her out with a single blast of energy.

SELENE, looking around her: “Hmm. I don’t like what’s been done with the place at all. We’re going to need to make some changes.”

Selene cackles.

In Magik’s room at the institute, Illyana is still lying in bed in the dark, cuddling her stuffies and crying. She’s mumbling a song in Russian to herself.

Kitty creaks the door open, Lockheed perched on her shoulder, and asks Magik if it’s okay to come in; the little guy wants to see her. Lockheed chirps. Magik just weakly groans. Kitty enters and shuts the door behind her.

KITTY: “Thanks for not shooting a fireball at me. I know you’ve been doing that to…everyone else.”

Lockheed flies into Illyana’s arms and she holds him tight.

ILLYANA: “Fireballs. I used to be able to rain fire upon the entire world. Now I can shoot teeny, tiny little fireballs. I am pathetic.”

Kitty tells her she doesn’t care how powerful she is. That’s not important. What is important is that she’s more Yana than Darkchylde now. That’s a good thing.

YANA: “No. It isn’t.”

Kitty sits down next to her on the bed and gently takes her hand.

KITTY: “I wish you would tell me why you think that.”

Yana grunts and squirms.

Kitty is deeply saddened as she clenches her face and Yana’s hand, wishing there was anything she could do.

There’s a knock on the door. It’s Magneto.

MAGNETO: “Magik? Are you there? I’d like to speak with you in my office.”

Illyana weekly giggles.

YANA: “Sounds like old times, but not my old times.”

Kitty tells him to go away, but Magneto only replies by telling them that something has happened to Magma.

Magik’s eyes widen.

In the new, non-sentient Danger Room, Mercury, Bling!, Dust, Tag, Quentin, and the Cuckoos are gathered. No one’s sure why they’ve all been called there. It’s training day for Emma and Dani’s squad members, but not the others and Julian and Noriko aren’t here. They wouldn’t have put them all on the same squad just because they’re friends, right?

Emma and Iceman enter, with Bobby still recovering from his last battle and looking like a snowman, and Emma telling them that, no, they wouldn’t, but they do want all of the most talented non-X-Men students on their “X-Men in Training” squad. Bobby explains that since Hellion and Surge are X-Men now, like Wolverine, it isn’t really appropriate for them to be on the squad anymore. But since the Cuckoos and Quentin are their most talented telepaths, something the training squad is currently lacking outside Tag’s limited abilities, they thought they’d be good fits to replace them.

EMMA: “Congratulations, girls. This is where you’ve always belonged.”

SOPHIE, pleased but playing it cool: “Training to be X-Men could be fun, we suppose.”

QUENTIN, loud and smug: “Ha! About time. Maybe the X-Men aren’t as shallow as I thought.”

BOBBY, ignoring him: “Uh huh. Anyway, this also lets Emma only need to worry about one squad, so she can spend more one-on-one time with Hellion. She’s reeeeally petty about her protege staying ahead of Kitty’s.”

The kids all laugh at Emma. She really needs to stop bringing Robert places.

ROXY: “Okay, so this is cool, but what am I doing here exactly? I wanna fight with my girl, but I’m not anything special.”

BOBBY: “Neither was Beast. There’s more to an X-Man than their mutation.”

Roxy perks up and Cessily holds her hand.

Dust questions where Ms. Moonstar is. Shouldn’t she be here? Or is Iceman taking her place? Emma explains that, no, Danielle is still their squad’s co-leader, she’s just occupied at the moment. Mercury follows up by asking what Iceman IS doing here.

EMMA: “Oh, he’s overseeing the detention you all have.”

THE WHOLE SQUAD: “WHAT?!”

Magneto walking ahead of them, Kitty helps Magik into his office. There, Sunspot, Dani, Karma, Cannonball, and Wolfsbane are already waiting.

RAHNE, smiling through her concern for her friend: "Hello, Illyana. It's nice to see you out of your room."

As Magento takes his seat, the rest of the New Mutants awkwardly smile at Illyana. She hides her face in her hair, asking to just hear what happened to Amara.

Magneto informs Kitty and the New Mutants that Nova Roma was invaded by its former ruler, their old enemy, the External Selene Gallio.

Kitty can't believe the timing. They just finished with one External and now another is causing problems.

ROBERTO: "She and Apocalypse were the last ones standing after the X-Men and X-Force sealed away the rest of the immortals. I'm sure being the oldest and last remaining has only done wonders for that ego of hers."

SAM: "Really? You're talking about ego?"

DANI: "90% of the adults in this building shouldn't get to talk about that."

Illyana stomps her foot on the floor. She just wants to know about Amara. Kitty wraps her fingers around hers.

Magneto explains that Magma was able to send a distress signal a few hours ago. They don't know what's happened since.

RAHNE: "The X-Men are going to go save her, right?!"

XUAN: "Rahne, honey, I don't think we'd be here if they were."

Magneto nods. While their advanced healing technology has them up and about, most of the team is still recovering from the fight with Apocalypse and the Horsemen; they're in no condition for another battle on that level.

Selene has always been the New Mutants' enemy primarily, so, with Sunspot and Magik still able, he's elected to send his old students.

Kitty tells him to hold on. She should go. Magik isn't active right now. Magneto counters that the Horsemen are still out there; they need Kitty here in the event they're attacked. And he hopes a mission might just be what Magik needs.

DANI: "You know you could have thought of us more as your "old students" when you were returning to villany and releasing Exodus in the first place."

ERIK, tired: "I am not doing this right now, Danielle." He turns to Illyana with a gentle expression."The choice is yours, Illyana."

Illyana tugs at her hair.

ILLYANA: "Yeah. I'll help, Teach."

ROBERTO: "Perfect! Cannonball, Dani, I'm sure you won't mind taking the lead like old times?"

DANI/SAM: "If he/she can still keep up."

Rahne and Karma sigh. Why couldn't someone else have a turn?

KITTY, to Yana: "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

Yana tensely nods.

YANA: "Yes. Even Darkchylde…wanted to protect her friends."

Sam and Dani tell everyone to get prepped. They'll be leaving by stepping disc in 5 minutes.

Everyone heads out, save for Erik and Roberto, Magneto wishing them luck.

Once they're alone…

MAGNETO: "You deferred responsibility to Samuel and Danielle. I specifically asked you to lead this mission over Kitty to evaluate your own leadership abilities."

SUNSPOT: "Yes you did."

MAGNETO: "You know as well I do that merely running a successful business does not qualify a true leader."

SUNSPOT: "Yes I do."

MAGNETO: "I assume you're plotting something?"

SUNSPOT: "Yes I am. Good day, Headmaster."

Roberto walks off with a cheeky smile.

The new "X-Men in Training" Squad are all seated in a classroom. The girls don't seem bothered at all, taking pictures together and making tiktoks. Across the room, Brian and Quentin, meanwhile, are annoyed at how seemingly unfair this is; they were hoping to sneak into a new barcade.

The Cuckoos giggle as they record the two, ready to post them with a caption reading "SAD", but Cessily, laughing, pushes their phone down and tells them to stop.

CESSILY: "Brian, dude, come over here."

QUENTIN, reading her mind: "They wish to make content at my expense."

The girls laugh. Brian questions what's wrong with them. Why do they have to be so mean to Quentin?

SOPHIE: "Don't let him play victim."

PHOEBE: "We've ALL seen what he's posted about women."

ROXY: "Especially "cool girls"."

QUENTIN: "I have never posted anything the least bit offensive about ANY of you. At least nothing that isn't true."

Brian facepalms.

BRIAN: "I'm working on that."

QUENTIN: "Don't condescend to me!"

Iceman finally enters, apologizing to the kids for needing a minute, and requesting all of their phones.

Once they've been confiscated, the Cuckoos ask what they're doing here.

ICEMAN: "You're joking, right? You girls brought unknown drugs onto school property, forced Cessily and Roxy to take them, and none of you reported this. We had to find out from Quentin."

PHOEBE: "Rat!"

QUENTIN: "And why am I here then?"

ICEMAN: "Because the Cuckoos ratted YOU out for giving them all nightmares after they pranked you."

BRIAN: "Dude!"

QUENTIN: "It was payback!"

ESME: "You made Mindee cry!"

MINDEE, embarrassed: "Why would you TELL people that?!"

BRIAN: "I thought your name was Celeste."

CELESTE: "I'm Celeste! That WAS Irma! Now she's Mindee!"

SOPHIE: "Even though I told her to stick to "I" names!"

ICEMAN, already exasperated: "ENOUGH! Oh my god, enough."

Bobby thinks that maybe, just maybe, this is partially their fault. The X-Men haven't exactly been the best role models to them. So, to try and give better examples, he wants to tell them all stories about the OLD X-Men, and the lessons they learned. Maybe they'll learn something.

The kids all look annoyed by this.

BRIAN: "I still don't know why I'm here."

ICEMAN: "Honestly Tag, I just thought you'd like to be included."

BRIAN, completely serious and pointing at him: "You thought correctly."

He does wish the others were here to suffer with them though. Iceman says he's sure they wish they were here too.

ICEMAN: "I was just talking to Emma and Kitty and they seemed…intense."

Checking in with Kitty and Emma, we see them stifly pacing down on the hall next to each other. Both are smirking at the other. Emma questions if Kitty is still up for this, or if she's too worried about Magik.

KITTY: "Magik is a big girl. I think. The New Mutants will take care of her and save Magma no problem. You're not getting cold feet and looking for an excuse to get out of this, are you?"

EMMA: "You're confusing me for a small, squishable creature that gets nervous. Like yourself."

The two continue to faux-smile at each other as they pick up the pace.

In the Mission Room, Hellion and Surge are stretching. Julian has his back to her as he rants about how nasty those Japanese snacks she ordered were. He knows she wanted a taste of home, but BLEH.

Noriko isn't really paying attention, instead finding herself focusing on his stretched-out biceps, which have gotten noticeably larger and more muscular since last season. She smacks herself when she realizes she's doing this.

Kitty and Emma enter. They hope the kids are ready for their "Advanced Studies".

The New Mutants emerge from a stepping disc in the Amazon. Dani notes that this doesn’t look like Nova Roma, which makes Magik growl.

MAGIK: “I missed.”

Magik screams. She didn’t just miss. She’s tired from that! How can she be this weak? Sam assures her no one’s mad. Her getting better is their priority. As for finding their destination…

SAM: “Wolfsbane?”

Rahne transforms into her wolf form and sniffs the air.

RAHNE: “Got em. It’s close.”

KARMA, as everyone walks behind Rahne: “See? Rahne’s got this and we were close anyway. You did great.”

Yana huphs and sneers.

Roberto smirks for just a second.

ROBERTO, walking up next to Xuan and Yana: “Karma is right, Magik. And I have no doubt you’ll still be key to defeating Selene like you always–”

DANI, cutting him off: “You’re doing the voice.”

BETO, off guard: “I’m sorry?”

KARMA: “The inflection you put on when you’re not being straightforward. Do you think we don’t recognize it?”

ROBERTO: “I…um…”

Magik gargles in disgust at him as Xuan leads her further ahead. Sam puts his arm around Beto’s shoulders.

SAM: “You wanna tell me what that was about?”

ROBERTO: “I honestly don’t have the faintest idea what you’re–”

He’s cut off again as Sam squeezes him tight and puts his lips to his ear. Roberto lightly shrieks.

SAM: “We’ve got one of ours in danger, another is having a crisis, and we’re completely outgunned here. I can’t be having your games right now. Talk.”

ROBERTO: “I–!”

SAM: “Or I’ll hand you over to Dani.”

Roberto sighs in defeat. “Fine.”

Back at the school, Iceman thanks the Cuckoos for linking everyone up psychically. He imagines his stories will be more engaging if they all can see what’s happening.

Bobby elects to start from the beginning. Or, at least, the real beginning. His story begins when he was 14. He’d been living at the mansion for a few months and–

He’s already cut off as Brian questions why he looks like the snowman he currently appears as in the flashback. Bobby laughs and admits that’s just how his mutation used to look; the hot ice bod came later.

Anyway, he’d been living with Professor X, Cyclops, Archangel, and Beast for months and–

Iceman is cut off again, looking less amused this time.

ROXY: “Woah! That’s Dr. McCoy?!”

SOPHIE: “And that was Archangel at our age?”

CELESTE: “Why is it always the pretty ones who perish?”

Bobby grins through his seething, already wondering if this may have been a mistake. But yes! The bigfoot-looking guy was Hank before he tried making himself look “normal”, and only made himself fuzzy in the process.

ICEMAN: “And yeah…Warren was damn pretty.”

ANYWAY!

They’d been living together as one big sausage fest, just studying and training together, when Jean came to live with them. The other guys started hitting on her…

CESSILY: “Did you mean to include Professor X in that visual?”

BOBBY: “No comment.”

BRIAN: “And you weren’t hitting on her?”

BOBBY: “I will talk to YOU later.”

But yeah, point is, Jean arrived, and they hardly had a chance to get to know her before they received an alert: Magneto was attacking the US Pentagon. Now, they’d heard stories about him before, but they’d never met him. And importantly, they’d never been in the field. But their newest headmaster was gunning for world domination at the time and needed to be stopped, so the professor sent the five of them out to do just that.

Quentin remarks that that couldn’t have been much of a fight with Ms. Grey there, recalling his time with her as his squad leader. She defeated him in seconds, no?

Bobby laughs as the fight is shown, where Magneto beats the crap out of the 05 without breaking a sweat. Yes, the Jean they knew was the most powerful Mutant on the planet. Back then? She had slightly better telekinesis than Emma does, and that was it.

SOPHIE: “You’re joking.”

The kids also question why Warren isn’t transforming into Archangel and why Iceman isn’t doing anything besides throwing snowballs. Once again, that all came later.

Cessily raises the obvious question: how did they win this?

From underneath some rubble, Cyclops blasts Magneto while his shields are down and he’s laughing maniacally, prompting him to run away.

BOBBY: “Yeeeeah, don’t tell Mr. Summers I said this, but I’m pretty sure he let us have that win, and it wasn’t the only time. Say what you want about two of your headmasters: even at their worst, neither liked hurting kids.”

SOPHIE: “What about Firestar?”

BOBBY: “Emma told you about that?! Okay, talking to HER later too.”

Esme cackles under her breath.

The point of the story is the X-Men weren’t always who they are now. They were just a bunch of dumb kids way out of their league. But they persevered and made it work. And they were only able to do that because they were friends and a team. They always worked together and stuck together.

BEAT

QUENTIN: “I think the moral is you all used to suck.”

The kids all struggle not to laugh a little. Bobby only gets more frustrated. “At least they’re laughing together.”

Back in the Amazon, Woldsbane leads the team through a dark cave. Dani remembers this place; they should almost be there.

Suddenly, Rahne shivers.

KARMA: “Wolfsbane, what’s wrong?”

RAHNE: “So, so many pounds of burning flesh.”

Spurred on by her assessment of the scents present, the six rush to the end of the cave. From there, they have a clear view of Nova Roma - the sky dark, the city half on fire, and the largest structure a statue of Selene.

The New Mutants grimace and glare at the sight in front of them. Magik clenches her fists.

Dani loudly claps her hands, telling everyone to listen up. There’s no time for dooming or questioning if Amara is still alive. They have to believe she is and focus on how they save her and win this.

Sam reminds everyone that they cannot, under any circumstances, fight Selene directly. Last Wanda told him, she’s been having some trouble hunting her down as she’s been traversing the mystical realms. They may have found other ways when they were kids, but with how powerful she’s gotten, magic is the only way to stop her.

SAM: “Pun not intended, but unavoidable.”

MAGIK, hanging her head: “Her magic has to be stronger than mine. Still strong, fast, immortal. Can still eat life force.” She shakes her head. “No. I can’t do anything.”

KARMA: “That’s not true. You came here because you knew you could–”

MAGIK: “I said I can’t!”

As Magik roars, her voice becomes demonically pitched, and her scream sends the other 5 New Mutants flying out of the cave. Cannonball goes blasting and catches the others before carrying them down into the forest right outside Nova Roma��s walls.

SAM, panting: “Even when she’s on our side, she’s still trying to kill us.”

The girls are all worried about her, but Cannonball tells them to go ahead; he and Sunspot will stay back and keep Magik safe while trying to talk her into taking action.

DANI, smirking: “Oh, so you’re deferring total leadership of the mission to me?”

SAM, smirking back: “No, I’m giving you temporary total authority since we can protect Magik better.”

DANI, annoyed: “Hmmm.”

Dani takes command and tells Karma and Wolfsbane to follow her. Let’s see if they can’t handle this on their own.

KARMA: “I mean, we probably can’t, but hey, just our lives on the line.”

Once they’re gone…

SAM: “Okay…this little plan a’yours oughta work.”

ROBERTO, shrugging: “60/40 odds, I’d wager.” BEAT. “50/50.”

Sam smacks his face.

In the Danger Room, Emma and Kitty go over what’s going on for Hellion and Surge. They can’t stop sniping at each other though.

EMMA: “Kitty has done a fine job whipping you into shape while I’ve been busy…”

KITTY: “A lot of hard work with how much of your lessons I had to unteach.”

EMMA: “Perhaps if you hadn’t, we wouldn’t need to be here.”

Surge and Hellion roll their eyes at these two.

KITTY AND EMMA: “Do NOT roll your eyes at me!”

In any event, while they’re more than comfortable keeping them on the X-Men in spite of their and Wolverine’s failure to defeat War, they clearly need more experience. Surge tries countering that they’ve been taking down supervillains for months by themselves, but Kitty reminds her they were having one, easy battle every couple weeks or so. When Laura’s out there with Logan? She’s fighting real threats every day, and learning something new every minute.

They called these their “Advanced Lessons” but what these two really need are apprenticeships like hers.

HELLION, disgusted: “Apprenticeships? You meanbeing sidekicks?"

EMMA: Hellion, have you ever known me to sully my hands with the kinds of degenerates Kitty’s been having you combat? No, we do not mean sidekicks.”

Kitty tells them that, starting today, they’re each shadowing one of them, learning their unique skills, and, most importantly, learning to be leaders. ANY X-Man should be capable of taking charge at a moment’s notice.

And as an added incentive for the kids for their first day, the professors have made a “friendly wager”. They know Doop the Janitor, right? Well, he’s gotten a little sick. Whichever student performs worse, that pair will have to fill in for him tonight.

JULIAN: “Me vs Ashida again? No problem. I’ll make the bag lady a garbage bag lady.”

NORIKO: “As if, Brotherhood Boy.” Nori japs his chest with her finger. “I am gonna make the sloppiest mess for you to clean.”

JULIAN, stammered by Noriko touching him and her choice of phrasing: “Uh…sure.”

NORIKO: “Oh come on! It’s no fun if you don’t bitch back.”

JULIAN: “Sorry?”

NORIKO: “Sorry? The Hell is wrong with you?”

The wheels in Kitty and Emma’s brains visibly turn as they piece together what’s been going on with these two.

Back in the classroom, Iceman begins his next story. He knows these kids love hanging out at The Grindstone, but the original X-Men had their own coffee shop of choice: Coffee A Go-Go. Sometime he and Beast would bring dates their, but usually, it was a team thing. And it wasn’t JUSt a coffee shop. It was–

Once again, Bobby is quickly cut off, this time by Phoebe. There are seven X-Men in the mindscreen, and she recognizes Polaris as the girl in the green, but who’s the dweeb holding her hand that’s clearly out of his league?

Iceman cackles. Okay, this one he’s happy to answer. That’s Cyclops’ brother - Havok.

BRIAN: “Cyclops has a brother?”

ROXY: “Is he from the future like his daughter?”

QUENTIN: “I thought his son was from the future.”

MINDEE: “Was he really dating the Genoshan princess? With THAT hair?”

BOBBY: “Yes, no, yes, and, tragically, yes.”

CESSILY: “You’re not a fan?”

BOBBY: “Ahhhhh. No. No, he sucks.”

BRIAN: “That bad? I thought all the Summers were badasses.”

BOBBY: “Oh, he can fight. But last time I saw him, he was swearing loyalty to a demon queen and trying to kill us.”

ROXY: “This being a DIFFERENT demon queen from Magik?”

BOBBY: “No, this one was Cyclops’ ex-wife.”

BEAT.

SOORAYA, throwing her hands up: “OF COURSE!”

Back to the story, Coffee A Go-Go was the primary venue of another very annoying man named Bernard the Poet. He was a beatnik who’d do crap like reading shopping lists dramatically as a performance. His girlfriend couldn’t get enough of it. And he stole some of his cake on his 18th birthday!

The kids question why this guy matters, with Bobby revealing Bernard was actually a Mutant. One with the power to alter the perception of others with his mind. A whole war ended up centering around–

Bobby’s cut off for a different reason than usual as the Cuckoos don’t want to watch a loser Mutant here, “Seeing Quentin everyday is bad enough”. Roxy gets an idea, thinking maybe instead of being a beatnik poet, he could be a slam poet. The Cuckoos think that’s a great idea and change the vision so that Bernard looks modern and cool (and handsome).

BOBBY: “What are you doing?”

CESSILY: “Oh! I know! Polaris should be into him, not Havok, but unsure if she can trust him because she doesn’t know he’s a Mutant!”

SOPHIE: “YES!”

The vision changes again.

BOBBY: “Guys, please stop.”

The girls continue to laugh as they all think up changes, until “Cool Bernard” is fighting off an army by himself, dramatically bending Polaris over for a kiss as Havok dies. The girls all laugh, while Bobby shivers, parts of him falling off.

BRIAN: “Hey! Guys, cut it out! Can’t you see you’re upsetting him?”

QUENTIN: “As if they care. Mr. Drake, I am so sorry for them. But this is what I’ve been dealing with!”

Bobby struggles to get himself back together as he can.

BOBBY: “It’s…fine. Promise. Let’s just move on to another story. Okay?”

In Nova Roma, Dani, Rahne, and Xuan slink around the shadows, staying hidden so they can better assess the situation. Demons have occupied the city, the human population has been put in chains, and are being forced to pray to their new dark goddess. At least some of them are, as others are dragged off into a large building.

DANI, whispering: “That’s the bathhouse. Wolfsbane, you remember Selene’s scent, right?”

WOLFSBANE, in hybrid form, sniffing: “Aye. She’s there.”

Dani grumbles, wishing she was surprised. She has bad memories of when the three of them were being washed and prepared to be sold into slavery there on Selene’s orders. Nice as it would be to just charge in, they need more information. Dani gives Karma the order to possess one of the demons. Karma understands what she needs to do as her eyes glow pink.

Inside the elegant bathhouse, a demon awkwardly enters. Its eyes flash pink briefly to dictate that Karma has possessed it. She notes to herself that this feels a lot less wrong than taking control of another person.

Entering the main area, Karma is disgusted by the sight of the demons bathing clearly terrified women. And in the main bath, Selene is washing Amara.

Running her hands through Amara’s soapy hair, Selene tells the anxious Magma to try and relax. Even if she isn’t honored to have her hair washed by the glorious Selene, the oldest and most beautiful of Mutants, before she’s sold to some lovely buyers she found in Otherworld who just ADORE “Witchbreed”, she should just be happy to finally get to spend some real, quality time together.

SELENE: “I doubt I have time to teach you to be less of a disappointment, but…”

Magma groans as Selene squeezes the crown of her head. Amara refuses to give up or back down, keeping a cool head as she questions what Selene is doing. She thought she’d shifted goals to “bigger things” since the last time the X-Men kicked her butt.

SELENE: “Oh, yes that much is true! I’m sure you’d agree Dark Goddess of All Reality suits me so much better than mere queenhood over a single world would. Sometimes, to get what you want, you have to do less favorable things. The important part is finding your own way to have fun with it.”

MAGMA: “Your idea is fun is nothing but crushing others under your heels."

SELENE: “My very expensive heels, yes!”

Selene works her hands further down Magma, making her squirm. If she could have taken just a little teeny bit after her, they could be having fun together. Magma makes clear she would sooner die a thousand deaths than be anything like Selene.

SELENE, sarcastically: “You break your poor grandmother’s heart.” She laughs. “I’d almost be jealous of big blue if that wasn’t such an unattractive and mortal emotion.”

Magma ignores that, and just insists to Selene the X-Men will stop her like always. Selene drags her sharp nailes across Magma’s neck as she says that that will never happen again.

Two demons drag over a trembling girl whose just been bathed. Selene turns away from Magma to examine her.

SELENE: “Hmmmm.”

BEAT.

Selene unhinges her jaw, and her mouth opens freakishly wife, as she sucks the life force out of the girl until she’s reduced to nothing more than a pile of bones on the floor.

Magma and Karma cringe at the sight, while the demons laugh and Selene licks her lips.

SELENE: “A little fishy, but I don’t mind. Now…” Selene turns and glares at Karma. “What was that about the X-Men?”

Karma tries to run, but Selene is too fast, shooting and killing the demon she possessed, forcing her to awaken in her own body in shock.

As Dani and Wolfsbane try to shake her back to reality and tell her it’s okay, they realize they have another problem, as demons surround them.

In the school, Kitty and Surge walk down the hall, going to get the equipment they need from Kitty’s up till now unseen bedroom. Kitty brags that she’s kinda awesome at a lot of stuff and this whole operation would pretty much fall apart without her, so Noriko gets to choose whether she wants to think like her or fight like her.

NORIKO: “You’ve seen my grades and still think I could manage the computer geek gig?”

Kitty tells her to have some faith in herself. She knows a little about her past, and that she does her own light maintenance on her gauntlets; Noriko isn’t as dumb as she acts.

KITTY: “No one could be as dumb as you act.”

Surge takes the comment in stride and thanks her for the confidence, but she’ll just stick to punching things for now. That works well enough for Kitty, but they will be getting to everything eventually.

Nori’s sure the jokes will come later if not sooner then. She’s been in America and off the streets for a year and a half, and she still doesn’t get some of the stereotypes Westerners have about Asian people. Like, they’re not all computer dorks!

SURGE: “It’s almost as bad as the people who think we all know kung fu. Hello! I’m not even Chinese!”

KITTY: “Stereotypes like that are always gross. Doesn’t matter if it's about ethnicity, queerness, Mutantdom, or anything else.”

Kitty opens the door to her room, revealing not just an absolute pigsty, but one made of various, seemingly unrelated computer parts, and Japanese memorability and weaponry.

KITTY: “Now then, are you ready to learn to be a ninja?!”

Noriko bites her lip and smiles through grit teeth as she nods; she walked into this one.

In Emma’s car, Julian is excited for the day ahead as he and Emma share a drink in the back

He was never that into the idea of one day working for his parents’ company, that was always more his brother, James’, thing, but he’s been getting taught and drilled on Emma’s shrewd and ruthless business tactics, “and all the boring actual business stuff”, for almost as long as he’s been at the school, and he’s more than ready to put it all into practice.

Emma is happy to see him so energized, and also that he hasn’t mouthed off to her once so far about the Danger situation. Julian, keeping a cool head, tells her he still wants to smash the overgrown microchip for what it did to Sofia, but it’s not like it was just Emma’s choice to let her stay.

JULIAN: “It was the X-Men thing to do…or whatever.”

Emma is satisfied by his words, and after taking a sip, changes the subject.

EMMA: “You never talk about your brother. Let me guess: Your parents forced you into competition with him your entire life and nothing you ever did was good enough in comparison?”

JULIAN, amused: “Guess you’d know what that’s like, huh? Evil, crazy older sister and all?”

EMMA: “Not just her. It was all of us in that madhouse pit against one another. I can’t imagine I’ll ever have children of my own but there’s a reason that, however I may have you and your friends to compete, I’ve never encouraged that form of rivalry.”

JULIAN: “Just rivalries where the loser has to pick up trash, right? God, I can’t wait to see the look on Ashida’s face when you tell her I won.”

Emma puts her drink down. She isn’t going to get too into this, she is here as a teacher, not a guidance counselor or mommy to hear all about the latest drama, so she’s going to make this quick: Sofia was a wonderful girl, but she’s gone. If he wants Surge, then he should pursue her, just as he would anything else he wants in life; she clearly shares his feelings.

Julian is frozen by this but doesn’t get the chance to respond as the car stops. Emma hands him a change of clothes and tells him to get out; they aren’t going in together. Julian questions why, and why he was given nerd clothes instead of a suit.

EMMA: “Darling, you have no experience. Did you think you’d just be starting as my assistant? You’re starting from the bottom just as I did…coffee monkey.”

Julian hangs his head over how much this is going to blow.

Outside Nova Roma, Magik is huddled in a ball against the cave wall, rocking back and forth. Cannonball and Sunspot stand to the side.

Sam second-guesses going along with Beto’s scheme. Maybe they should just try and fight Selene themselves instead of forcing Magik out of her stupor. His sister’s been studying psychology, and he knows just from what she’s yammered about that what they’re about to do can’t be healthy. Let alone what he wants Sam to say about himself.

BETO: “There isn’t a therapist in this world or any other qualified to help Illyana through traditional means. We are “this” close to having Magik back, and since no one else has figured out how to get her out of her own head, I have to do it myself. And it’s my script; I can take it. Just trust me, and let your friend Roberto do what he does best.”

Sam needs another moment to think it over, settling on acceptance.

SAM, smirking: “You mean looking at yourself in the mirror.”

Roberto laughs.

Hardcut to Cannonball being sent flying through the cave past Magik by a punch. Sam keeps himself from being flung off the ledge by flacking back into the cave, asking what the big idea is. Illyana looks up with big, wet eyes to see what’s going on.

CANNONBALL, acting furious: “I said what I said! You don’t deserve to be an X-Man!”

Sunspot, in his transformed form, blasts at Sam, but Cannonball flies straight through the attack. His punch is caught by Roberto.

SUNSPOT: “Big words from the man who knows he wouldn’t cut it if he tried!”

Roberto punches Sam in the gut, knocking him further back into the cave.

SUNSPOT, surrounding himself in even more flames: “You have no idea what I’m dealing with!”

Roberto blasts at Sam again, but his attack is intercepted, as a stepping disk opens in midair to catch the flames and send them elsewhere.

MAGIK, on her feet: “What do you think you are doing?? Why are you fighting?!”

Roberto tells Sam to go on and tell her. Tell her how he called him too selfish and manipulative to be an X-Man. More concerned with his company than his people.

SAM, picking himself up: “Only speaking the truth. We all thought you’d grow up right like the rest of us, even when you doubted yourself, but you’ve turned out just like your old man.”

ROBERTO: “How dare you!”

Roberto is about to launch another passionate attack, but Magik gets between the men.

MAGIK: “Cannonball. Leave. Help the others.”

There’s faux tension in the air as Roberto and Sam stare each other down to sell the bit, before Cannonball says fine; he’ll leave the two monsters alone.

Sam flies off as Illyana’s eyes widen, unprepared for that gut punch after how nice everyone’s been.

Magik slumps back down on the ground.

MAGIK: “Why did I even come here? Too scared to fight. And still just a monster. You…didn’t deserve that.”

ROBERTO, sitting down next to her, doing his best depressed pout: “Maybe. Or maybe not.”

In the classroom, Iceman tells the kids NOT to mess with his memories again. Especially since the next story is the biggest one of all, and doesn’t need any changing to be deemed “cool” by the kids. It’s the mission that changed everything. The one that proved the X-Men…

BOBBY, pointing at himself: “Could be more than just us.”

Sooraya nods with a smile.

SOORAYA: “Ms. Storm told me this one.”

BRIAN: “I know where this is going, yeah.”

ROXY, holding Cessily because she knows this conversation could make Cess insecure: “Already heard it too. Dr. McCoy was weirdly chill about being eaten.”

ICEMAN: “Easy to joke when time has passed. Believe me, he was as freaked as the rest of us then.”

Bobby begins his story. After a couple of years of serving as the original five (plus Havok and Polaris) X-Men, they were no longer kids who should be living in a school for the gifted. It was time to go to college! Professor X accepted their decision, after screaming at them a few times about how they were abdicating their responsibilities, but he did have one more mission for them. Cerebro had picked up some strange readings from an island in the Pacific, and he wanted them to investigate it. With how much power he was sensing, the Professor hoped that this could be the first member of a new team of X-Men.

Unfortunately for them, it didn’t take long once they got to the island that they realized there were no Mutant humans there; the Mutant was the island itself. It slowly drained their life forces the moment they set foot, and by the time they realized what was happening, it spoke its name to them, “KRAKOA!”, and swallowed them into the island’s cold, dark underground. Iceman’s memory of what exactly was going on down there is fuzzy.

SOPHIE: “A Mutant island that eats people?”

ESME: “Sounds fun! We should buy it. Is it still alive?”

QUENTIN: “Oh what, are your own private islands not enough for you? Do you want a living one because you’re that cruel, or an evil one because it’s more your speed?”

ROXY: “Bitch, our parents belong to the same country club! You’ve had all the same advantages as them, you’ve got just as much of an ego, and you treat people just as badly. People don’t hate you before you’re a poor little nerd, they hate you for the same reasons they hate them; you’re a dick. Get over yourself.”

While the Cuckoos laugh and cheer, Quentin is left unable to respond to that and even looks a little hurt. Brian is clearly worried, but before he can say anything, Iceman continues the story.

He wouldn’t necessarily call Krakoa “evil”, it’s just that the degree to which it was, and still is, alive, was more like animal life. It was sentient and sapient, but it was only acting on its natural drive to feed on human life energy.

Still, they needed to be saved, so Professor X traveled around the world and recruited a new team of X-Men: Storm, Wolverine, Banshee, Nightcrawler, Colossus, Sunfire, and Thunderbird.

CESSILY: “Storm was the only new woman? No wonder Hellion said the professor sucks.”

Iceman explains that this team, despite what they may think, did not gel at all. Hardly the “family” they’d become. Wolverine and Thunderbird had bad attitudes and didn’t like working with others, Sunfire was just a dick, Storm and Colossus were completely jarred by life outside Kenya and Russia, respectively, and Banshee, an old friend of the professor’s, felt weighed down by a bunch of kids.

But still, they had a job to do. Just like the old team, they weren’t half as strong as they are now, but they didn’t even have teamwork and training on their side. They didn’t even like each other! Even still, somehow, they made it work, beat Krakoa, and saved the original team.

Obviously, this new team didn’t last. Sunfire quit immediately after the Krakoa mission, and, as the kids probably already know, Thunderbird was Warpath’s brother who died on only their second mission, leading Cyclops and Jean to return.

Still, the point is the lesson this squad clearly MOST needs to learn, and the other side of the first lesson. Even if they aren’t friends or a team now, even if they can’t see past each other’s differences, and there are egos flying around, the only way they’ll ever be X-Men is if they can all find a way to work together. If they can’t even do that, what hope do they have of gelling with other teammates?

There’s a brief silence, with Bobby taking a breath, pleased with how he got all that out.

DUST: “Except that doesn’t apply here.”

BOBBY, face falling: “Huh?”

ROXY: “Us and the Cuckoos having a big heart-to-heart is what led us to detention in the first place.”

CESSILY: “And just cause I can’t stand his new friend doesn’t mean Brian isn’t still my guy.”

PHOEBE: “The only one causing any problems…”

CELESTE: “...is Quentin.”

MINDEE: “Just replace him with Armor and everything will be fine!”

SOPHIE, changing the mindvision to replace Sunfire and Thunderbird with Kitty and Presitge: “See? As easy as that.”

Bobby groans as his memories are messed with again. Quentin, meanwhile, has had enough. Just because his…parents…are making him come to this stupid school doesn’t mean he has to do whatever the teachers say; he’d be ecstatic to get thrown home and away from all these stuck-up, catty bitches!

As Quentin stands, welling up, the girls all boo him. Brian also stands, trying to tell Quentin to calm down; maybe they should just try out Iceman’s advice. Let everything go.

QUENTIN: “Forget it! They all want me gone? I’m gone! The X-Men can give me whatever punishment they want. I know my power. I know my worth. They can’t make me do anything.”

Quentin flies off at super speed as a purple streak, telekinetically knocking over desks and papers in the process.

Brian is distraught by Quentin’s pain and turns to glare at the girls. Cessily, Roxy, and Soo actually do look like they feel a little bad, while the Cuckoos are ready to celebrate making him cry.

Iceman shakes his head. He can’t believe this. He’s been working with Hellion and Surge for almost a year, but it’s no wonder they’re the X-Men already; they may bicker and bitch, but there’s respect. He’s not seeing any of that here. Not from any of the telepaths, not from the best friends who are standing on opposite sides of this feud, and definitely not for him and what he has to say.

ICEMAN: “If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go find Quentin before he blows up half the school in a fit. You kids don’t move.”

Iceman leaves, leaving Brian and his friends looking disappointed in themselves.

BEAT.

MINDEE: “Did we say something wrong?”

Everyone glares at Mindee.

In Nova Roma, Dani and Wolfsbane battle against demons, Dani shooting them through the head with spirit arrows, while Wolfsbane has separated herself into a pack of wolves, one standing by near Karma, while the others maul and tear.

Dani attempts to encourage Rahne by saying they aren’t dying today and Magneto wouldn’t have sent them on this mission if they couldn’t get it done. Rahne just laughs though. Does she look afraid? And, speaking of, what was going on with her and Magneto earlier anyway?

DANI: “Nothing. Just frustration. Just looking around at everyone we work with, everyone we have worked with…it’s not that hard to just be good, is it?”

WOLFSBANE: “It shouldn’t be…” Rahne slashes out a demon’s eyes. “But we’ve never had the same responsibilities.”

DANI: “Maybe, but I find it hard to believe we’d fall prey to the same vices.”

Rahne thinks she recalls her Mummy saying something about this once, but before she can say it, a demon sneaks behind her and moves to kill Karma.

Karma, however, just smirks as she runs the demon through with her sword, before decapitating it, having just been playing weak.

KARMA: “Only a few left.”

Just then, Cannonball arrives, crashing through and taking care of the remaining horde.

CANNONBALL: “ You’re welcome, ladies. No need to thank me.”

DANI: “About to try and show up late and take all the credit? I know it’s what you’re best at.”

Karma shuts this down before they can get more into bickering. Selene is in the bathhouse, with Amara and a bunch of other girls who she’s planning on either eating or selling to Otherworld as slaves. Do they move in now, or wait for Sunspot to maybe come back with Magik?

The question is answered for them, as a geyser of lava crashes through the roof of the bathhouse. Magma soars up through it and propels herself toward the New Mutants. On impact, the ground shakes beneath them, as cracks in the Earth filled with lava cover the surface.

The others are worried about what’s going on, as Amara’s eyes are blowing black and she’s moaning in agony.

DANI: “Amara? It’s us. It’s okay.”

Magma screams as she blasts her friends, Sam only barely managing to knock the girls out of harm’s way.

MAGMA, desperate, in pain, and not in control: “Run.”

In the school’s gymnasium, Noriko, dressed in a blue gi, is mimicking Kitty as she runs her through basic martial arts forms. The kids have of course all been learning self-defense to complement their powers, but taking things to the next level will beautifully compliment Nori’s speed; likewise with stealth training.

KITTY: “I think the only one of you besides Laura who was studying anything like this was–”

NORIKO: “Sofia. From Laura.”

Kitty cringes. Her and her big mouth.

KITTY: “Anyway! You’re looking good! I am soooo never letting Emma live this down.” Kitty notices the hurt expression on Kitty’s face. “I bet you’re looking forward to seeing Julian work his ass off.”

Nori isn’t sure what she’s getting at; she said earlier it would be funny, yeah. Kitty tells her she doesn’t need to play dumb; she and Emma connected the dots earlier. They know she and Hellion are into each other.

Nori is embarrassed, blushing, but Kitty tells her it just makes sense. They worked out all the real beef between them last year, and they spent the last 8 months spending pretty much all of their free time alone together. Far as she knows, they’re both straight horny teens, so it’d be weird if feelings hadn’t cropped up.

Nori cringes…and admits the feelings aren’t new. Nor are they ones they haven’t acted on before. Kitty needs her to elaborate on that.

NORI: “Last year, after the Hellions thing, but before he and Sofia got back together, we kinda…”

KITTY, eyes widened: “Yeah, I guess that would make trying things again a little awkward.”

Even still, if it's what she wants, Kitty thinks Surge should push through the nerves.

KITTY, somber: “Sometimes you don’t know what you have until it's gone. You don’t want any regrets. You don’t want to leave things unsaid.”

Nori, still unsure, nods.

Kitty sees the mood needs to be uplifted again, and leaps back, hurling shuriken at Noriko. Nori scrambles, whaling as she only barely catches them all at super speed Even then, without her gauntlets, her hands would have been completely cut up.

NORIKO: “What the Hell?!”

Kitty laughs. For all they know, Emma could have walked Hellion through a hostile takeover by now. They aren’t going to win if they only run through basic forms today. It’s time for introductory weaponry!

SURGE: “And you couldn’t have just handed me the things?!”

KITTY: “Kid, you’re lucky I haven’t chopped off that blue hair and am actually bothering to teach. My master, Ogun, just tortured me and psychically put all this stuff in my head.”

SURGE: “That…would explain how you had time to learn this. Also, the more I learn, the more your childhood sounds like a nightmare.”

Kitty tilts her head up and laughs, grinning.

KITTY: “Ha ha. Yeah.”

Nori waits for her to say something but it doesn’t come. Instead, Kitty roundhouse kicks Noriko in the face.

KITTY: “Targets! Now!”

In the cave, Roberto and Illyana slump against the wall. Illyana questions what that was all about. It better not have been some different kind of trick. She’s pretty sure she’s still strong enough to beat HIM up.

Roberto, with a weak smile, is sure she is. And she knows his games. This isn’t that. This is, well…

ROBERTO: “Not entirely undeserved.”

Roberto explains how he recently resurrected Da Costa International and has been doing much better than the last time he operated it. But the only reason he has been more successful is because he hasn’t been doing things his way; he’s been doing them more like his father would.

ROBERTO: “Do you remember anything about him?”

ILLYANA: “I…yes. He was Hellfire.”

Roberto confirms that, and elaborates that he doesn’t care for the, largely legal, if not moral, methods by which he’s been going about getting the company back into all its old industries and more, but it’s what he sees as a necessary precaution. If the X-Men fail, if superheroes can’t protect Mutantkind, then the shield he’s building will.

ROBERTO: “Of all people, I thought I could trust Sam with some of what I’m forcing myself to do. But, as you saw, he just sees another villain for it. And do you know what the worst part is?” Magik stares intently. “I can’t even blame him. It’s what I sometimes see in the mirror. What enraged me was his insults toward my father. Yes, he was evil, no, I couldn’t trust him…but he did it all for me. His motives were as selfless as my own.” Roberto snickers as he casts his head down. “What do my choices in role models say about me, Illyana? A maniacal billionaire, a mass-murdering soldier, and Magneto. It’s a miracle I didn’t side with Darkchylde when she first emerged.”

Illyana holds her stare on Beto for a few moments before speaking.

YANA: “I wouldn’t call him a role model…but Belasco shaped me half my life. Forget Darkchylde. I, err, the real Illyana, was a monster before you and she ever met.” She smiles just a bit. “And she also chose Teach.”

ROBERTO: “Far be it from me to tell a lady I know about her about her than herself, you all slapped me around plenty for that when we were younger as is…but you are the real Magik.” Beto continues even as Magik tries cutting him off. “I know. You don’t think you are. Because you don’t have a soul, because there’s still some demon…do you really expect us to care? You always considered yourself a monster, always hiding from us for our “own good”. If anything, you acting like this only proves more that you’re Magik.”

Illyana shakes her head, groaning as she stands up. He doesn’t get it! The pain coming from the emptiness inside her, from that sliver of her that’s still Darkchylde, that’s still pure darkness, is overwhelming. It makes her feel like no matter what she does, all she will do is hurt and kill. She can’t take it.

Roberto stands and admits he’d be talking far beyond his scope if he tried addressing any of what she’s feeling, but he hopes she won’t find it insulting if he compares them. Because all of this, to him, just sounds like guilt. Something he’s gotten far too accustomed to. But the thing is, whatever she’s guilty about, be it the deaths in Russia or Karma’s leg or anything else, they don’t care. That wasn’t her, and they are all just ecstatic she’s back. And so long as they’re alive, they’ll make sure Magik never travels down the path she fears.

ROBERTO: “I’m sure, very soon, you’ll be cocky enough again to think you don’t even need us.”

Illyana is visibly moved by his words, but Roberto thinks this performance needs one last touch. He leans over and whispers something in Illyana’s ear. The audience can’t hear, but she completely perks up.

ILLYANA: “HUUUUUH?”

A light returns to Illyana’s eyes as she gets herself pumped. Her friends will support her as long as they’re alive, but that won’t be much longer if they’re fighting Selene without her.

ROBERTO, failing to contain his smugness: “You think you can stop her now?”

MAGIK: “Please! I am the queen of Limbo! I can do anything.” BEAT. “Reminds me I need to stop back down there; I’ve been leaving everything to Despair, and I’m not sure that was my best choice.” Magik opens a stepping disc. “Thank you, Roberto. You aren’t a monster either. Just a dork who’s too smart for his own good. Now, come on!”

Magik jumps through her disc. Sunspot takes a moment to pull out a comb and slick back his hair before transforming.

ROBERTO: “Roberto accomplished.”

He jumps through the portal behind Magik.

In the school, Quentin is in the science room with Martha the brain, working on her hover device to allow it to let her move a little faster. While he’s helping her, he’s also using this as a chance to rant to someone who can’t cut him off.

QUENTIN: “They’re all such losers, No-Girl! At least where it counts. If they didn’t have me to pick on, I bet they’d return to fighting each other. In the real world, their cattiness and shallowness will only lead to failure and abusive husbands, while I’m raking in billions.” He sighs. “You’re almost lucky you don’t have a body; you don’t have to worry about the horror of girl world or its societal expectations.”

The camera holds on Martha as if she were performing an eye-roll.

Iceman enters, having come to check on Quentin. He asks Martha if they can have the room, and she obliges. Quentin tells him he doesn’t need to be here, but Iceman reminds him he’s supposed to be in detention and he’s in charge of that, so he kinda does.

BOBBY: “If you really don’t want to be on the squad, we can hand you back to Karma. The X-Men just thought you deserved a shot.”

Quentin says Bobby doesn’t understand. No one understands. The only one who even came close was Ms. Grey. It took a god even to try and understand his genius.

BOBBY: “What about Tag?”

QUENTIN: “He’s…different.”

Quentin explains what made him blow up back there wasn’t anything the girls were saying, specifically. He’s beyond their petty insults. But Roxy mentioned his parents and the similarities in their backgrounds and…

QUENTIN: “While we were all away, my parents decided 17 was old enough for me to know. I’m adopted. And, apparently, that’s a decision they regret. When I turn 18, they’re done with me. The school re-opening was a blessing for them.”

Iceman hums, “oh shit” under his breath. Quentin asks if he could understand what that’s like. For your whole life to be a lie and to be ripped out from under you.

ICEMAN: “Better than you’d think. And when it comes to bad, racist parents? Take a look around this place. You’re with the best company you’ll find.”

Quentin doesn’t think so. No one will get him. No one even likes him! Iceman acknowledges that’s true, but does he get the others? Does he acknowledge their own struggles? While there’s no excusing the Cuckoos’ behavior, has he ever thought that maybe his own perspective of things is wrong? That the world isn’t necessarily how he sees it?

QUENTIN: “Of course I!...haven’t.”

Quentin hangs his head. He just doesn’t know what to do. Or what he’s going to do. Iceman assures him, no matter how much he hates it here, he’ll always have a home here. And if he’s willing to put in the work, he can even find a family.

QUENTIN: “What? Like with the squad and your junior X-Men?”

ICEMAN: “If that’s what you want, yeah.”

Bobby tells him the X-Men have a friend: Dr. Sean Garrison. He’s a baseline human, but a brilliant therapist and one of the biggest advocates for Mutants. He thinks maybe talking to him would do him some good.

ICEMAN: “Or, you know, you can blow me up and go on a rant about how everything sucks and keep feeling miserable.”

Quentin laughs. He’ll think about it. And he thanks Mr. Drake. He didn’t think much of the clown before, but now he gets why Brian looks up to him.

There’s a knock on the door, quickly followed by Brian and the girls all entering. Quentin questions what they want now. The Cuckoos all look grumpy and annoyed, but Cessily, Sooraya, and Roxy nudge them forward.

The Cuckoos, clearly being forced into it, apologize to Quentin. He’s a loser with terrible opinions, but that doesn’t mean they should harass him. More sincerely, Cessily apologizes. After the whole “Hellions” thing, she should have known better than getting carried away in this. Roxy and Soo agree; it was just supposed to be the one prank, but then things escalated.

QUENTIN: “Hmph! Well, I’m glad you all learned your lessons.”

BRIAN, no more time for this shit: “Dude. Come on.”

Quentin sighs and, begrudgingly, apologizes for the nightmares. And a couple of instances of potential hyperbole from his blog.

BRIAN, exasperated: “It’s a start.”

Iceman tosses his arms up, saying this is what he wanted to see. This olive branch may be thin, but it can grow. He’s seen it happen before. Just cause he’s such a nice guy, he’s gonna let them out of detention early so they can do some bonding, probably at that coffee shop they love so much he’s guessing.

Cessily’s actually interested in trying the place the old X-Men used to go to, but Iceman laughs that that place doesn’t exist anymore; Emma bought it, tore it down, and turned it into a sushi bar years ago just to screw with them.

ROXY: “Still better than what she did to Firestar.”

The kids all hum in agreement. They are ready to get out of here though, thanking Iceman and filing out. Quentin doesn’t initially stand, but Brian smiles and offers him a hand. He accepts it and they follow after the girls, but Bobby asks Brian to stay back just for a second; he told him he wanted to speak to him later, and he’s got something big to tell him.

Brian and Quentin do their secret handshake, and Quentin exits. Brian sits down with Bobby and the audio cuts out as we pan back, just seeing their mouths move. Brian hugs Bobby in excitement, Bobby hugging the kid back.

In Nova Roma, Dani, Karma, Cannonball and Wolfsbane try to fight their out of control friend as she burns and quakes everything around her. Selene’s spell is too powerful for Karma to take control over Magma, Wolfsbane can’t get close due to the heat, and Dani can’t get a clear shot with her bow because of the shaking and shattering ground.

Cannonball crashes into Amara, only semi-burnt due to being semi-invincible while blasting, and knocks her out. He apologizes for that, but Magma gets right back up, her body moving on its own under Selene’s control without Amara being concious. She blasts at Sam, with him only surviving by flying through the flames.

Sam would love to make a joke about Rome burning in a day right now, but he doesn’t want that to be his last joke.

He and the girls are unsure what else they can do as Magma unleashing a hellstorm of flames upon them. It looks like its over, but the New Mutants are saved by the arrival of Magik and Sunspot in front of them, Roberto absorbing not only the attack, but sucking in all the surrounding fires around the city.

Sunspot is cheered on both by and his friends and the few citizens who haven’t run away.

RAHNE: “Could you have cut it any closer though?”

ROBERTO: “You know I love my dramatic timing, but in this case, I swear it was unintentional.”

DANI: “What about you, Magik? Feeling any better?”

MAGIK, flashes a grin at Dani before smirking: ‘I will in a moment.”

As Magma launches another attack, Sunspot acting as a sheild, Magik chants in a strange language. Illyana plunges her hand through her chest. The others are worried, but Illyana just snickers.

In a flash of darkness, Magik yanks her hang out of her chest, pulling from it an all black sword.

KARMA: “What is that?”

MAGIK: “Leftover demon bits. I’d rather be a total husk than have them in me. I think I will call this…the anti-soul sword. Not as good as the real deal, but it should do.”

Sunspot and Magik exchanging nods, Roberto races forward, leading around the shattering terrain and absorbing everything Magma throws at him. He tackles her to the ground, holding her with his more amped up than ever strength. Yana appears in front of him through a disc and slams a hand down on Magma’s face. Honestly? She’s not actually sure she can beat Selene. But one of her spells? Pfft.

Magma’s body screams as Illyana chants, until the black disappears from Amara’s eyes and she jolts awake.

Everyone is thrilled, momentarily forgetting that the real fight is still ahead, as they’re overjoyed by Magma being safe and Illyana, seemingly, being her old self.

Magma hugs her.

MAGMA: “Thank you so much. Is it really you?”

ILLYANA: “Well, I did just save all of you from certain death like it was nothing. That certainly sounds like me!”

Magik laughs obnoxiously. The others a teeny bit annoyed, but they’re more happy than anything else to see this. Magik’s laughter is briefly interrupted by a quick flashback to her laughing the same way as a kid.

Everyone gets a chance to hug or pat Illyana on the back, but they still have a job to do.

SAM: “You up for helping to take Selene down, Magma?”

MAGMA: “Unquestionably.”

The seven New Mutants dash forward through the rubble of the city and into the, seemingly by magic, untouched bathhouse. However, they find something strange when they enter.

DANI: “No sign of Selene. Or any demons at all.”

The seven rush back outside…where they find the blue sky shining like normal and the demons all gone.

DANI: “Did…she run away?”

MAGIK: “Ha! She was proabbly too scared to fight me now that I’m back and better than ever.”

Roberto wishes he could believe it’s that simple…but he doubts it.

Later, in Magneto’s office, he and Roberto clink liquor glasses. Erik congragulates him on a job well done. Selene may still be out there, plotting, but Nova Roma still needed to be saved in the now, and having Magik on the team will only be a benefit down the line.

Roberto thanks him, explaining that he’s planning on heading back to Nova Roma soon. The others are all still taking care of injured citizens and helping them rebuild from all the destruction.

ROBERTO: “Magma got dibs on destroying Selene’s statues.”

He only came ahead so he could inform Magneto of how things went. Erik appreciates that, but he’s also curious about how much of what he told Magik was true.

ROBERTO, casually: “Enough.”

This concerns Magneto. He’s not going to pry, Sunspot is his own man, but he’d appreciate knowing who his silent partner is whose allowed him to build his company back up so quickly. He’d like to know if he should be concerned.

Roberto wishes he could tell his old headmaster that, but…

SUNSPOT: *SHRUGS*

Magneto doesn’t understand why he’s being like this. When he served him on Genosha, he trusted Sunspot completely. He could have just as easily planted Quicksilver or Polaris on the X-Men, but he believed Roberto was the best man for the job. And he proved him right. He stayed unnoticed, delivered his reports, and, when Magneto was gone, took the steps necessary to start planning ahead.

MAGNETO: “I am proud of you. I still trust you now. And, moving forward, I would like for you to be a bigger part of this team. You’ve earned that. But I need to know that you still trust me.”

Roberto looks down into what little is left of his drink, his reflection staring back at him. He chugs the rest of the liquor down and slams the glass down on the table.

ROBERTO: “I appreciate the support, Headmaster. I do still trust you, and I appreciate the interest…but I know what I’m doing.”

Roberto thanks him for the drink, leaving to go wash up before he returns to help the others.

Magneto sips his own drink disappointed and worried. A stepping disc appears next to him and Magik pops out.

MAGNETO, eyes wide with relief: “Illyana.”

ILLYANA: “Hey, Teach!” Yana kisses the top of his helmet. “Bye teach!”

Magik runs off. In spite of the conversation he just had, Erik can’t help but smile.

In the hall, Kitty is helping a weary Noriko walk. Kitty’s really sorry; she did NOT mean for Surge to get this banged up. She’s never really taught this before and she didn’t really know what she was doing. If she doesn’t want to keep doing this, they don’t have to. Noriko tells her to forget that. That was fun! And she hasn’t even gotten to use a katana yet. If she’s gonna be a stereotype, she’s going all in, baby. Kitty laughs, happy to hear it.

SURGE: “I guess we’re going to have clean though, huh?”

KITTY: “Well, not exactly.”

The two turn a corner, where Julian is cleaning up trash while betrated by Emma.

NORI, ecstatic: “They lost?!”

KITTY: “Uhhh, no. Turns out Emma made Hellion into a coffee monkey, forgetting that people who start from the bottom tend to actually have experience with menial tasks; Hellion does not.”

NORI, laughing: “That bad?”

EMMA: “It was a disaster!”

Noriko questions why Emma isn’t cleaning, with Kitty explaining that this made them realize Nori doesn’t have much experience with menial chores either. Kitty phases her hand into a closet and grabs a mop bucket for her.

KITTY: “Doop’s really sick it seems so…we’ll move today’s stakes to tomorrow.”

Surge and is annoyed, and ready to throw a tantrum after the day she’s had, but then she hears Julian laughing. She turns around and sees the smug grin on his face.

SURGE: SIGH “Fine. I guess I’ll help.”

Surge goes to help Julian clean, the two making sneering googly-eyes at each other as Emma continues to lambast Hellion.

Kitty is getting a good laugh out this, when…

“KITTY!”

Kitty turns around, only to be swept off her feet by Magik, who proceeds to plant a kiss on her mouth. Kitty is in stunned silence.

MAGIK, grinning from ear to ear: “We saved the day! Beto got me out of my funk. I know I am no monster. And…he told me what you always wanted to do.” Magik cackles as she sets Kitty down. “I have to go back to Nova Roma to help with repairs, but…A HA HA HA! It’s good to be back!”

Magik disappears through a stepping disc, Kitty still not having managed to get a word out.

EMMA, approaching: “I cannot say I predicted that.”

KITTY: “Y-yeah. Me neither.”

EMMA: “Are you interested? “

KITTY, getting a hold of herself: “That is NONE of your business. You should just be focused on trying not to lose when we play for real tomorrow.”

EMMA: “Oh, I’m sure things will go much better for us once the kinks are worked out.”

The two look on as Noriko and Julian laugh and clean together.

EMMA: “I’m surprised you went the ninja route. There is only darkness in that chapter of your life.”

KITTY: “No matter what you say, we don’t have much in common. But we both had our childhoods corrupted by evil men. For you, your adulthood too. But we still use what we learned from them for good. And they can too.”

Emma would propose a toast to that, but Kitty doesn’t carry around a flask - like a savage. Even if she did though, Kitty can’t drink right now; she has to figure out what the Hell she’s gonna do when Magik gets back.

Emma beams at both Kitty as she runs off, and at Julian and Noriko.

In Egypt, we get an establishing shot of Apocalypse’s underground base. Inside the throne room, Akkaba cultists are present, as is Death. Death, leaning against a wall, lights up a cigarette and smokes it. The smoke travels toward the throne, but it’s blown away by a gentle wind.

DEATH, amused: “Sorry about that.”

From a suddenly emerging cloud of black smoke, Selene appears.

SELENE: “The splendid Selene has returned! All requests have been obliged. Now, I think we need to have a little chat…War.”

The camera pans up the throne, revealing Sofia, no longer dressed in her Apocalypse armor, but in a new set of armor resembling a Venezuelan Devil Dancer, colored in both her old gold and white, and Apocalypse-blue. She is also still wearing her mother’s bracelet.

DEATH: “She is only War to her Horsemen. You may address her as Lady Akkaba.”

Selene laughs at that. The minion attempting to give her orders.

SOFIA, eyes narrowed behind her mask: “What do you wish to speak about?”

SELENE: “Oh, you know, just girl things. Like, for example, why did you hire me for a job and then pull me out before it was done?”

SOFIA: “My reasons are my own.”

SELENE: “Oh! I see! Well, would you like to know what I think? I think that you hired me to lure out and kill Sunspot, Magik, and Kitty Pryde, something I was more than happy to do, especially since it meant getting to see my favorite granddaughter…but you didn’t expect the other New Mutants to come along. And you didn’t want me to kill poor Ms. Moonstar, did you?”

Selene mocks Sofia with her smirk, as Death reaches for his sword, awaiting his master’s orders.

SOFIA: “Death…bring her her payment.”

Death is hesitant to listen, wanting to cut Selene down, but he does as he’s told. While Death is away, Selene mocks that there’s nothing wrong with caring about others. She finds it gross, but she knows it works for others. It’s a bit of a hazard for wannabee world-conquering empresses though.

Sofia doesn’t respond, but the camera focus on parts of her tensing up.

Death returns with a shining object that looks halfway between a vase and a lava lamp, tossing it to Selene.

SELENE, stroking the object: “Oh, there are you my pretty. Apocalypse borrowed so many of my toys over the millenia. It was very rude of him to never give this one back.”

Selene tells “Lady Akkaba” that the only reason she never took it back was because Big Blue was one of the few men alive with the power to match her own. She was just devastated to hear about what happened to him, but following his defeat, if she’d really wanted to, she could have walked right in here, taken what’s hers back and killed everyone present.

SOFIA: “Do not underestimate my power. We are both External.”

Selene laughs. Whatever Apocalypse did to her, she’s no External. And frankly, it’s rude to say otherwise.

SELENE: “But, since you think us equals apparently…fight back.”

Selene unhinges her jaw and begins eating the life force of Sofia, Death, and all the cultists, the latter of whome are immediately reduced to dust. Sofia and Death are completely helpless and only survive by Selene’s mercy, as she ceases her attack. Both pant heavily.

SELENE: “Point proven?”

Selene leaps over to Sofia, hovering right over her. She grabs her by the chin.

SELENE: “The only reason I truly agreed to all this? I wanted to see what Apocalypse’s chosen heir had in her. And I couldn’t be less impressed.” She cackles as she lightly crushes Sofia’s jaw in her grip. “Whether you think you’re the new Mutant savior or the new big bad or maybe even both, let’s get something straight: you will never defeat the X-Men. And it’s not because they’re stronger than you, although, they are; it’s because stregnth alone cannot beat them, or else they would have fallen time after time before. Call it…an X-factor. Whatever it is, there is nothing special about you, little girl, that will let you succeed where I and so many others have failed. And when you do inevitably lose? You better pray that they still care for you, as you do for them.”

Selene let’s go of Sofia, casually walking down the staircase. Death wants to attack her, but Sofia raises her hand, stopping him even as she gasps.

SELENE: “This was fun. Let’s never do it again. Ta ta…Sofia.”

Selene disappears in a cloud of black smoke. And all Lady Akkaba can do is bang her hands on her throne and shout.

12 notes · View notes