#I’m begging people to use more of their imaginations
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ೃ⁀➷ swan song ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱
╰┈➤ cho sang-woo x player!reader imagine
a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! please be sure to check out their profile for squid game fanfictions, they have helped me with my works and their writing is perfection! 🤍
˚ ༘♡ the rain cascaded in a relentless downpour, burying the world in its somber rhythm. you stood motionless, soaked to the bone, your tattered black satin gown clinging to your pallid skin, pearls glinting faintly in the dim moonlight. across from you stood cho sang-woo, his tailored suit marred with splashes of blood that had long since dried, a stark contrast to the pristine image he once upheld. there had been a time when the sight of him would have filled you with affection, a time when you had imagined him as your husband, the man you would spent all of eternity with.
˚ ༘♡ the man before you now bore no resemblance to the one you had loved so deeply. where once there had been kindness, there was now a malicious cruelty. the charm that had drawn you in, the quiet strength and righteous honesty, had been nothing more than a facade. before the games, your lives had seemed perfect, lavish dinners at exclusive steakhouses, extravagant shopping trips, the allure of wealth. yet it was never the riches that held your heart. you had loved him for the moments of vulnerability, the whispered dreams during midnight strolls, the promises of a future built on trust. now, those memories felt like lies, twisted shadows of a man who no longer existed.
˚ ༘♡ his grip on the knife was steady, the same blade he had used to take sae-byeok’s life. you could still see her fragile form laid on the ground, blood swarming under her stiff body as her she weakly murmured her little brother’s name. she had begged for another chance to see him again, her eyes glazed with fear and dread, only to be silenced in a merciless slashing. that moment was etched into your soul, an infested wound that refused to heal. you had pleaded with gi-hun to spare sang-woo when the opportunity arose, your love for him, a ghost of what it once was, still clinging to the hope that he could be saved. but sparing him had been a mistake.
˚ ༘♡ sang-woo had demonstrated no remorse. he had turned his blade on gi-hun after being confronted for sae-byeok’s murder, killing his childhood best friend with little hesitation, leaving you as the only two left to face the end. now, as the rain fell in endless torrents, you stood in the storm’s heart, the past unraveling between you. the love you had once cherished lay shattered at your feet, replaced by a chasm of betrayal and regret.
˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo,” you called out, your voice steady despite the quivering in your limbs. your gaze locked onto his, and slowly, deliberately, you let the knife slip from your grasp. it landed in the rain-soaked sand with a muted thud, quickly swallowed by the muck. droplets cascaded down your face, blurring your vision, but you didn’t look away. “you’ve killed so many,” you said, your voice carrying over the storm, though faint and muffled. “innocent strangers, people who trusted you, those who loved you. i’m no different.”
˚ ༘♡ his jaw clenched as his face contorted with rage. “pick up the damn knife!” he shouted, his voice raw and jagged. his body shook, a mix of fury and something more fragile, a deep, unspoken torment etched into his expression. his eyes betrayed him, haunted and sorrowful.
˚ ༘♡ “i will not,” you replied softly, your soaked hair sticking to your melancholic face. “i won’t fight you. i can’t.” your breathing troubled as you continued, words tumbling out between the harsh pouring of the rain. “even if i won… what would it matter? what’s left for me to go back to? the money won’t mend this. it can’t rid what’s been done, the people we’ve lost, the pieces of ourselves we’ll never get back.”
˚ ༘♡ for a split second, his grip on the knife loosened, his fingers moving as though fighting an internal war, but just as quickly, they tightened. blood trailed down the cut across his face, mingling with the rain, streaking his skin with crimson. “for fuck’s sake!” he barked, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “stop being so difficult and come here! let’s finish this!”
˚ ༘♡ “no, sang-woo,” you said firmly, taking a step toward him, unarmed, your hands open at your sides. “if the money is all you care about, if you’re so desperate to go back and see your mother, to undo all your mistakes, to lead the life you desire, to have a beautiful home, a loving wife, good children, then kill me. go ahead. take the knife and end the game.”
˚ ༘♡ tears burned your eyes, falling hot and salty down your face before the rain could wash them away. you moved closer, mere inches from him now, your voice low and steady, almost a whisper. “do it,” you murmured. “you’ll have to, or neither of us gets anything, and i won’t hurt you, sang-woo.”
˚ ༘♡ his arm lifted, the knife angled toward your chest. his jaw tightened, his breathing ragged, but he didn’t strike. the blade hovered between you, shaking ever so slightly. “i… i can’t kill you,” he said, his voice breaking as the words escaped him.
˚ ༘♡ “but you could kill sae-byeok?” you asked, your voice cracking, your lips curving downward in a frown. “you could kill gi-hun? their lives meant less than mine? sae-byeok had her little brother waiting for her, and gi-hun has a daughter who will never understand why her father didn’t come back.” your voice grew softer, raw with pain. “their lives mattered, sang-woo. they mattered as much as mine and yours!”
˚ ༘♡ his face became grim, a flash of anguish breaking through his hardened mask. “don’t you think i understand that?” he shouted, his voice catching on the words. his free hand pressed against his chest as though the pain inside was physical, unbearable. “i didn’t do it because i wanted to! you think i enjoyed it? you think i’m a sadist?” his voice cracked, his desperation bleeding into every word. “everything i’ve done… i had no choice! i have to fix this. i have to make it right. otherwise, what was all of this for? the sacrifices, the suffering, it will mean nothing!”
˚ ༘♡ the rain fell harder, drowning out the quietude, as his words hung in the air, each one more bitter than the last. you could see it, the guilt embedded into his aged face, the torment tearing him apart, but it didn’t undo the blood on his hands.
˚ ༘♡ your fingers wrapped around his trembling hand, guiding the blade to your throat. the cold metal kissed your skin, and your voice was composed despite the tears falling freely down your face. “go home, sang-woo,” you said softly, your grip tightening to keep his hand stable.
˚ ༘♡ his face was streaked with rain and tears now, his composure unraveling. his breathing was uneven, his chest heaving as he tried to pull the knife away. “i won’t do it,” he choked out, his voice hoarse, trembling with something between anguish and resolve. his fingers curled tighter around the hilt, but not to push forward, only to keep it from you. “i won’t kill you.”
˚ ༘♡ the silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the rain pounding against the earth. your gaze shifted to the stormy horizon, staring blankly at the void ahead. “sang-woo,” you whispered, your tone solemn, distant. “do you remember that night you stayed over at my place? you said you liked my cooking, even though we both knew it was awful. and i laughed at all your ridiculous, outdated jokes.” a faint, bittersweet smile tugged at your lips, though it was short-lived, disappearing as quickly as it came. “that’s the day i remember the most. not the gifts, not the trips, not the money. none of it mattered to me. only mattered. i wanted you, nothing else.”
˚ ༘♡ his breath snagged, his lips parting to speak, but no words came. you turned your tear-streaked face toward him, meeting his tormented gaze. “it will never be like that again,” you said, your voice breaking. “we can’t go back, sang-woo. not after everything.”
˚ ༘♡ before he could react, you wrenched the knife from his hand with a sudden, sharp motion. his eyes widened, panic flashing across his face as he reached for you. but it was too far too late. the blade pierced your throat with brutal precision, and the warmth of your blood poured over your trembling hands. you staggered, the world moving and fading around you, your legs giving out beneath you as you collapsed.
˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo…” you murmured, your voice barely audible as you crumpled to the wet sand. scarlet-red ichor spilled out in thick rivers, melding with the rain-soaked earth.
˚ ༘♡ “no!” he screamed, his voice raw and broken, as he fell to his knees beside you. quivering hands reached for you, lifting your head from the wet sand as rain pelted down in icy sheets. his tears mingled with the blood streaking your face, his sobs shaking his entire body. “please, no… don’t do this,” he choked out, desperation lacing every word. “stay with me, please.”
˚ ༘♡ you opened your mouth to speak, but the words came weak, barely audible over the thunderous rain. “my… my family,” you sputtered, your voice thick with the blood flooding your throat. each breath was a struggle, your chest rising and falling in shallow gasps. “tell them… tell them i won’t be there anymore, okay?” your fingers, trembling and cold, lifted to brush against his bloodied cheek. your touch was feather-light, tender despite your waning strength. “sang-woo… please, don’t forget me, okay?”
˚ ༘♡ his face was agonized, tears streaming past the injuries that marred his angular features, it was rare to see him so emotional, so delirious with grief. “i won’t,” he swore, his voice cracking beneath the strain of his grief. “i won’t forget you. i’ll never…” he stopped, his words caught in his throat as he pressed his hands to the gaping wound on your neck, desperate to stop the flow of blood. it was a futile effort, the red blood spilled through his fingers, staining the sand beneath you. “please, stay with me,” he whispered, his voice shatterred into a sob. “don’t leave me. please. i can’t live without you.”
˚ ༘♡ his desperate efforts were all in vain. the life was draining from your body, the world dimming around you. your breaths came slower, softer, each one feeling close to your last. his frantic cries grew distant, muffled as if you were slipping underwater. your vision blurred, the storm above fading into darkness. and yet, through it all, his face remained clear as could be, the pain in his dark eyes burned into your thoughts.
˚ ༘♡ the last sound you heard was not his voice, but something colder, emptier. an emotionless voice echoed through the air, chilling and robotic, void of anything human.
˚ ༘♡ “player 177, eliminated.”
˚ ༘♡ you exhaled one final breath, your hand falling limply from sang-woo’s bloodied face as the darkness consumed you.
a/n: another cho sang-woo fanfiction!! he’s my favorite character so there will definitely be more for him!!! please let me know you if any requests and your thoughts on this story! 🤍
#squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game fanfiction#squid game fic#squid game season 2#squid game imagine#squid game x y/n#cho sang woo fanfiction#cho sang woo fic#cho sang woo x female reader#cho sang woo x you#cho sang woo x reader#cho sang woo#cho sangwoo#cho sangwoo x reader#cho sang woo fanfic#cho sang woo imagine#player 218 fanfic#player 218 fanfiction#player 218 x reader#player 218#player 218 x you#kang sae byeok#sae byeok#player 067#seong gi hun#gi hun#player 456#kang sae byeok fanfiction#soeng gi hun fanfiction
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Some of the weirdest Downfall takes I’ve seen have been from people who went in hating the Dawnfather and then, when faced with new information about him and an interpretation of him that didn’t align with their idea of him as Big Bad Authority God, have not re-evaluated their own interpretation of a complex character, but have instead twisted themselves into knots trying to prove that every kind action he takes is The Worst Actually.
#cr spoilers#cr discourse#cr downfall#this has been most apparent in the crowd who decided the Dawnfather was basically Evangelical Christianity#for some reason??#and have said inane things like Pelor’s relationship to Asmodean is akin to#“hate the sin love the sinner homophobia#which….what#I’m begging people to use more of their imaginations
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I’ve been teaching my sister how to play Genshin for some of the past hours today and I hope she quits bc now I feel really guilty about it I don’t want her to waste all her time on it and Im thinking abt why she even wanted to start the game and now I feel even more horrible bc of some reasons that I kinda feel guilty explaining
#dora daily#idk how to tell her maybe she should focus on other things and games#I don’t know I’m overthinking bc everything rn is such a mess and my heart hurt so bad earlier and I felt like throwing up and stuff idk#what to do#everything is somehow going worse and worse it feels like it’s snowballing out of control but it’s because why is everyone so mean to me#like all I have ever wanted is just to be seen but I’m always invisible to everyone and people OFTEN tell me they forget abt me so many#times that it’s more often they forget me than remember#why am I so forgettable and why do I get replaced like idk what’s wrong with me#what’s so horrible abt my personality I don’t understand like is it the way I think ? I think it’s the way I think#but I can’t change how my brain is wired or how it functions I just don’t know how to fix it#I swear I’ve tried everything for years and years I’ve spent since my very early years trying to find out what’s wrong with me and why#it’s so hard for ppl to like me I’ve tried to change everything it doesn’t work and only six months ago I found out why people don’t like me#just by trial and error#it’s my brain and the way I think it’s just all wrong idk how I’m meant to think but it’s not meant to be like this#my personality is all wrong my likes are all wrong my thinking and everything is all wrong and I’m stuck like this unless I somehow do#some surgery on my brain to fix how I think I’ll be like this forever#I wish I could just fold myself up into a little version of myself and just put it away to take up the least amount of space in this world#I’ll never belong in this world and I don’t want to be here anymore#shoot I can barely even see the text on my keyboard bc I just can’t stop crying#I always said my parents should’ve never gotten married they were never a match my mum should’ve gotten an abortion when she found out like#she never even liked my dad anyways#fuck how do I stop crying my mum is gonna be here soon and she’s gonna start laughing at me like she usually does when I tear up I’m#straight up bawling LOL imagine she sees that I’ll be made a mockery more than I already am this is so humiliating and pathetic. why do I#care sm now I’ve never wanted to be alive but now I’m so sad because I really don’t want to be here anymore but I don’t know what to do#my head hurts now maybe I should go to sleep maybe it’ll help me forget about this at least for a while longer#I’m just so sad I have to manually ask ppl to care about me I’m so tired I have to do this with everyone#I’m not even angry anymore I’m just so sad I’m sad that others get that care like it’s second nature but with me I have to ask and beg forit#oh ik if my mum sees I’ll just tell her I’ve been itching my eyes if she asks why they’re red LOL#It’s okay if nobodyll ever like me like I like them right ? I don’t have to get liked back as long as I give love to others right ? then I#won’t be useless like my mum says I am at least I can have a tiny bit of use even though my love means absolutely nothing I bet it’s okay iv
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i've always known - satoru gojo
[ satoru gojo - f!reader ]
✧ summary: you'd known each other since childhood, growing as close as two people could grow. there was not anything you didn't do together. but life doesn't always cooperate, creating hurdles even for the most tightknit relations ✧ cw: [MDNI] childhood best friends, afab!reader, college au, fluff!!, ofc some angst sprinkled in here, mentions of underage drinking, swearing, arguing, slightly ooc satoru maybe you be the judge, jealousy, poorly written eventual smut (be patient), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names, no use or y/n ✧ word count: 17.0k (yikes sorry)
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were six years old when you met him for the first time.
“Be nice and say hi, sweetie,” your mom spoke softly, only making you squeeze her hand harder and hide behind her.
“Hi,” you said more quiet than a whisper, if that was even possible, looking at the two strangers that had made themselves known.
But it wasn’t the unknown woman that had you so nervous, she seemed kind enough. It was the little boy next to her, a mop of crystal white hair hanging above his piercing blue eyes that were staring directly at you. With his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie, he flashed you a toothless grin.
“Hello, I’m Satoru,” his tone chipper, almost like the line was rehearsed. You only stared at him with eyes big as globes before turning towards your mom again.
“Mooom,” you nagged, pulling at her sleeve. “Can we go back inside?”
“In a minute,” she reassured you before turning towards the strangers. “I’m sorry, the moving has been a lot for her,” she chuckled nervously, but the unknown lady only smiled at her.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she laughed kindly before turning to you. “I’m sure we’ll get to know each other with time.” She shot you a friendly wink, but you only shrunk further being your mom’s leg. Instinctively, she began to rub comforting circles on your back.
“We have no doubt,” she answered for you.
Still feeling Satoru’s eyes on you, you turned to him again. Instantly your eyebrows narrowed in annoyance, not understanding why he was still staring at you, like you were some kind of weirdo.
“I really came by to invite your family over for dinner tomorrow. Wish you welcome to the neighbourhood.” Your mother instantly beamed at the request.
“That’s so nice. We’d love too, right honey?” Shifting the focus to you again. You only shrugged, not daring to look away from the strange boy.
“Great. Just drop by anytime after five and we’ll be home.” The genuine smile only amplified the woman’s already gorgeous face.
Your mom broke the intense staring competition you had with Satoru with a slight shake of the hand. “Why don’t you tell them your name?”
Looking between the two strangers standing on your porch, you shyly mumbled your name, earning you another smile from the boy. What was his deal?
⋆⭒˚。⋆
“Why don’t you show her your room, Satoru?” The man you assumed to be his dad had said nearly the second your family had stepped into their home.
You’d given your parents a pleading look, begging them to come to your rescue seeing as you were already attending the dinner against your will. With stern glares, you knew you had no choice but to follow Satoru.
With a safe distance behind him, you reluctantly followed him up the stairs, which lead to a door at the end of the long hallway. He was clearly a well mannered kid, surprising you as he actually held the door open for you to enter first.
Small steps lead you into his bedroom and your eyes instantly grew big in awe at the sight of the huge bedroom. It was probably twice the size of yours, filled with all the toys you could imagine. Strengthening your envy was the queen sized bed in the corner of his room, because you had always been told that big beds like that were for grown ups only.
But what captured your full attention was the bookshelves in the opposite side of the room filled with manga from the floor to the ceiling. Shuffling over to them, you let your eyes travel over the familiar titles, spotting all your favourite stories.
“Are all of these yours?” You asked, turning to see him already looking at you with his hands in his pockets. He simply nodded, a proud smile plastered on his face to reveal deep dimples on each side of his face.
Unfair, you thought to yourself. What you would give to have stacked shelves like that, so you’d be able to pick up a new manga the second you’d finished another one.
“How old are you?” The random question made you turn to look at him again, his pride shifted into curiosity with his head tilted.
“Six.” He instantly scrunched his nose, seriously unhappy with your answer.
“Hmm,” he scoffed, looking down at his feet. His reaction couldn’t help but offend you, crossing your arms over your chest and sticking your bottom lip out in a dramatic pout. “‘S not fair,” he mumbled as he kicked his feet.
“What isn’t fair?” You whined, drawing his eyes back to you.
“Well, I’m eight,” he complained, but that alone didn’t explain his tone. “So why are you taller than me?” Blinking at him in surprise, a small giggle began to take over your grumpiness. “It’s not funny!”
If your parents had seen you giggle in response to someone clearly upset, you would have earned yourself a strict scowl and a lesson when you got home. Lucky for you, they were downstairs mingling with their new neighbours, so the childish giggle came bursting out of you, causing your to slap both your hands over your mouth to contain yourself.
He knew you were teasing him, but he found himself enjoying the sound of your laugh a little too much to stay upset, his shoulders sinking and eyebrows raising in delight. A subtle blush dusted over his cheeks when he began to think he might just be a little smitten by you already.
Nonetheless, it was the start of your friendship. Throughout the dinner, the two of you held a never ending conversation, which surprised your parents considering how hostile you’d been to even the idea of getting to know the young boy next door.
Both of you put up a fight when it was time for you to leave once the clock had passed nine on a school night. You eventually had to settle for seeing each other again tomorrow. Still so excited to have a new friend, you couldn’t help but tell your parents everything you and Satoru had talked about.
“And he even said I could borrow his mangas if I wanted to!”
“That’s great, honey, but you really have to go to bed now!” Your mom chuckled as she followed you into the bedroom and tucked you in. “Why don’t you tell me the rest tomorrow, hm?” You nodded eagerly, before she placed a sweet kiss on your cheek and wishing you good night before leaving your bedroom with the door slightly ajar.
You wanted to drift into sleep, but you couldn’t find it in your body to rest. So like so many other nights, you walked over to your shelves to find something to read. You didn’t manage to get that far, when something outside your window caught your eye. Curiously making your way over, you climbed up on the stool, only to be staring right at Satoru standing in his own window directly across from yours.
It didn’t take long for him to spot you, instantly waving at you with his entire arm. With the same toothless grin you’d been greeted with the previous day, you waved back at him immediately before climbing back into bed more than satisfied.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were ten years old the first time he got grounded because of you.
Over the years, you’d just grown closer and closer for each time you hung out, which was pretty much every day. It was just a given that you would see each other at one point or another throughout the day. And if, for some odd reason, you hadn’t gotten the chance to meet up, you would catch up in the evening from your windows.
There was not a doubt that you two had become best friends. His house felt like a second home, nearly spending more time there than your own home.
Sadly, Satoru’s classmates didn’t think it was cool for him to hang out with someone who was ten. Unlike them, you were a child… and a girl, which meant you brought cooties
“Waiting for your boyfriend,” a taunting voice cooed as it gradually came closer, capturing your attention to meet three boys you recognised from Satoru’s class.
“Not my boyfriend,” you mumbled to yourself, not wanting to give them the attention they so desperately wanted. Turning away from them, you tried to ignore their rapid approach. But before you knew it, they had you surrounded.
“You know, he doesn’t really like hanging out with you.” Glaring daggers at the boy standing right in front of you, you chewed the inside of your cheek in an attempt not to let him get to you. “He’s got better things to do than hang out with stupid girls.”
You tried to cling onto the advice your mother had told you time and time again; if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. But in this moment, that seemed like the worst possible advice. Why should you just stand there and take it when they were throwing all these mean words at you?
“You’re just upset you can’t get anyone to talk to you!” Your voice was venomous, but it didn’t seem to have any affect on him as they only snickered in response.
“Think you’re funny?”
“Just leave me alone!” You fired back, challenging his patronising look at you. For a few seconds, he held your stare before he launched forward and yanked your manga right out of your tiny hands. “Hey! Give it back!” Despite being as tall as the dumb boy, he managed to keep it just out of your reach, no matter how far you tried to stretch for it.
“I’m just having a look,” he laughed as he began to recklessly flip through the pages. From each side of you, you could hear both of his friends laugh to egg him on.
Panting and whining, you tried to reach for your book, but froze in place when you heard the sound of paper ripping. Staring at the manga in his hands, you saw how he had started to tear crumbled pages from the spine. With fake sincerity, he squeaked a small “ops” and continued to laugh. Unable to peer your eyes away from your favourite manga in pieces, the tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes. “Awe, are you crying?”
The tears didn’t have time to fall, when a familiar figure came zooming in front of you and crashing into your bully, instantly knocking him to the ground, causing him to scrape his knee. While he kept squirming on the ground, Satoru instantly snatched the book from his hands.
“I told you to leave her alone,” Satoru growled at the boy as he stumbled back on his feet, blood steaming through his torn jeans. His brows were narrowed in pure anger, telling you he was about to retaliate towards your friend, but Satoru sported a stern posture and a look that one would be stupid to defy.
Soon enough, it seemed like the pain set in after a few seconds, and the anger in his eyes turned glossy, trying to hide the fact that his bottom lip was quivering and his nostrils were flaring like he was about to cry.
Satoru shot an ugly glare at the two other boys, who didn’t seem sure what to do with themselves. “You want to taste the gravel as well?” Satoru threatened, the three boys sharing a worrying look. It didn’t take long before they decided to scatter with their tail between their legs. The boy who’d ruined your book, trying to conceal a limp but failing terribly.
The second they had their backs turned to you, Satoru turned his full attention to you with a softened expression, genuinely worried. “You okay?” He hurried to ask, scanning you from top to toe to see if there were any visible injuries. However it was only your pride, and your manga, that was wounded.
Looking down at his hands, the tears came back right away at the scene of the mangled book.
“I’m fine,” you said under your breath, eyes still glued to the manga. Struggling to find the right words to comfort you, his eyes jumped between your glistening eyes and the torn book in his hands.
“I have this one at home! You can have mine, I never liked it anyway,” he rambled as he began to wave the book around, growing more uncomfortable as he saw the small tears roll down your red and puffy cheeks. “And don’t worry about them! They’re just stupid! And jealous. And, and-“ his frantic words stopped in his throat, forming into a nervous lump when you flicked your eyes up to meet his.
Despite the redness in them and the sniffling of your nose, he couldn’t help but think you looked pretty. Which only made him feel even worse, that someone could be so cruel to you.
You shrugged your shoulders slightly, wiping away the snot and tears from your face. “Thank you for stopping them.” In defeat, you grabbed the manga out of his hands and stuffed it into your backpack, not caring if you ruined it any further.
“C’mon, let’s go home.” He placed a friendly hand on your shoulder, and you began to walk home like usual.
The walk home was mostly quiet, Satoru not daring to say anything, not knowing what to say. He wanted to help, make you feel better, but all the things that popped into his head just felt like it wouldn't be enough. So when you reached your house, you simply waved him goodbye before disappearing.
Once he entered his own home, his parents were on his neck instantly. They were furious, because they’d received an angry phone call from a distraught parent explaining how Satoru had purposely attacked their son.
Satoru had tried to explain the situation and defend himself, saying he couldn’t just let them pick on you like that. Somehow, the heroic gesture didn’t seem to outweigh when the kid had walked home with a bloody knee, bawling his eyes out.
“You never resort to violence, Satoru,” his father had yelled at him, before they told him he was grounded for a week. Satoru was speechless. He had never been grounded before, and he didn’t understand why he was being punished when he firmly believed he had done the right thing.
Unable to defend himself further, he stomped to his room and started his homework like he had been told to do. He didn’t get much work done though, as he mostly moped the entire evening, neurotically tapping his pen against the textbook.
You, much like Satoru, spent the entire evening in your bedroom. For the first two hours, you just laid in your bed, sulking. Eventually you wanted to talk to someone — not just someone, Satoru. You made your way to the windowsill, waiting for him to show. And you waited. And waited. And waited some more.
It wasn’t until you were about to head to bed you saw his silhouette cracking open the window slowly. Jumping up, you opened your window immediately. “I’ve been waiting all afternoon!”
“Shhh, you gotta keep it down,” he said softly, barely able to hear him. “I’m not allowed to talk to you right now.”
You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What? Why?” Leaning forward in the window frame, resting your head on your forearms.
“I’m grounded,” he shrugged, checking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure no one came to check in on him.
“For what?”
“Because I shoved him. He ran like a crybaby, making it seem worse than it was.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, so incredibly frustrated by the outcome.
“Really? I can explain what happened to your parents-“ he waved his hands out the window to stop you.
“I tried. They were quite upset. But it’s no big deal. It’s just a week.”
“So, I won’t be able to see you for a week?” You complained, to which he only looked at you with big eyes. It hadn’t really hit him that he wouldn’t be able to hang out with you while he was grounded, which only made this terrible situation even worse.
Pursing his lips in thought, he opened his mouth again to speak. “Guess we’ll just have to be sneaky with window meetings at night,” he laughed, making you laugh along as well.
“I guess so.”
“I gotta go to bed before mom and dad finds me talking to you,” he sighed. “So, guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow night.” Before he managed to shut his window, you called his name again.
“Hey, Satoru?” Looking back at you with big eyes, you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you for today. It really meant a lot!”
Looking at your glowing gratitude, he did not regret his actions for a single second. He even knew, should the opportunity arise, he would not hesitate to defend you again. He’d risk all the punishment in the world if it meant having you looking at him like that again.
“Good night, ‘Toru,” you smiled sweetly, his heart doing a small flip at the sound of his new nickname.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were fifteen years old when Satoru finally grew passed you.
And once he passed you, it seemed like he never stopped. It wasn’t just you he passed, it was all his peers as well. And as he grew, so did his ego to match it. Of course, this also resulted in him endlessly teasing you.
“Imagine you used to be taller than me,” he laughed and placed his hand on top of your head.
“Yeah, and you’re the only one who cares,” you sighed, swiftly removing his hand from your head.
This all happened about the time you started high school, something Satoru had looked forward to since he himself first started high school. It finally gave you a chance to hang out during school hours, as you’d mostly been restricted to your classrooms in lower grades. He was also excited to introduce you to the small life he had there, which previously had been separated from you.
There was no doubt that Satoru Gojo, along with his small crew, were insanely popular. They basically ruled the school and they all welcomed you with open arms.
So, by association, you too became popular.
You fitted into his group perfectly, getting along with both Shoko and Suguru pretty much right of the bat. So he shouldn’t really have been complaining — except for the unforeseen circumstances that came with other people finally noticing you.
Ever since you were young, you hadn’t made a huge number of yourself, remaining somewhat anonymous, happy doing your only thing. Satoru had basically been your only friend. He knew he could never mention it to anyone, but he really enjoyed having you all to himself.
So when he noticed all the lingering looks you received just walking down the hall, some unfamiliar anger began to take shape in him.
Pretty much from your first day, he was bombarded with questions from his classmates. Who’s your friend? Is she single? Why aren’t you dating her? Will you introduce me? It got old real fast, and Satoru only found himself growing more and more frustrated by it, coming up with silly excuses to lead them in the opposite direction.
“Yeah, no, she’s- uhm, she’s single but her dad promised her a car if she doesn’t date ‘til she’s eighteen.”
They all gave him the same weird look. “If you’re seeing her, just say so.”
“No! We’re just friends!” He always rushed to defend himself, which always earned him a roll of their eyes before they shrugged off his weird behaviour. Lucky for him, his reputation saved him from anyone pushing it any further.
Despite his best efforts to keep guys at bay, there were still a few headstrong individuals who didn’t care about Satoru’s lame excuses or status, they still tried to pursue you. So to fend them off, he had other ways to make you seem unapproachable; excessive physical touch.
You never thought twice about it, as he had never been a stranger to physical touch. It wasn’t unusual for him to throw his arm over your shoulders when walking, or fidget with your fingers when he needed something to stimulate his agitation. You’d gotten so used to it over the years, that you’d simply grown accustomed to it.
After a while, most of the guys in school seemed to get the message that you were off limits. The hassle of his consistent protection for you combined with his position in the school, it just wasn’t worth it — that was ignoring some of the most persistent seniors, but he only found their attempts amusing as you so obviously found them disgusting.
Nonetheless, with time he could deem himself satisfied with the lack of male attention you received.
“So you’re joining us this weekend right?” Suguru, one of Satoru’s close friends, asked during lunch. You only narrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion. What you didn’t notice, was Satoru sitting beside you, furiously trying to stop Suguru from explaining further, glaring at him and waving his hands like a maniac.
“What’s this weekend?”
“Satoru didn’t tell you about the party?” A taunting smirk danced on his lips as he completely ignored Satoru’s disappointed glare. When you turned to question him, he immediately wiped off his disappointment and flashed you a shy smile.
“Party?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t really planning on going so,” he shrugged nonchalantly, trying to regain his ‘cool’ act.
“That’s not what you told us yesterday,” Shoko scoffed, a smirk matching Suguru’s plastered on her face.
It was in moments like these, you became incredibly aware of the age difference between the two of you. Sure, it was only two years, which you’d never thought much of — until you started high school. His interests and desires skewed in a more mature direction, which you weren’t necessarily ready for. It had become a lot more usual for him to go out with his friends during weekends. Even though he usually returned home early and met you at the window, it still sucked.
Did you want to go to the party? No, not really. But if you were being honest, you were absolutely terrified of Satoru slipping away from you if you weren’t able to keep up with him. Besides, you only felt guilt at the thought that he might have changed his mind about going because of you. So what harm could it do to attend, even if it was for just an hour?
“I mean, if you want to go,” you trailed off, wanting so much to seem natural about it all. “I don’t wanna stop you.” With a small shrug, you were almost certain to managed to seem casual.
“So that’s a yes?” Shoko cheered quietly from the opposite side of the table.
“I guess so,” a small chuckle leaving your lips.
Satoru, on the other hand, wasn’t as excited about you joining them as his friends. Nervously bouncing his leg under the table, he began to imagine all the things that could happen. He tried to tell himself the main reason he was so upset about the whole thing was that he was concerned something bad might happen, but in reality, he hated the idea of an arena for random dudes to hang over you all night.
You interrupted his spiralling when you suddenly raised from the table. “I have to run by the library before class,” you sighed before you rushed off, Satoru’s eyes never leaving you until you’d left the cafeteria.
“What is your deal?” Shoko laughed, drawing his attention back to the table. “Since when do you turn down a party, even if you leave after an hour?”
“I don’t know, just don’t think it’ll be her scene, that’s all,” he excused himself, picking at his food, suddenly not having an appetite anymore.
“I know you two, like, grew up together or whatever, and you have this strange need to protect her, but she’s able to take care of herself. You’ve seen how she talks to Fushiguro,” she laughed again.
“It’s not that,” he sighed, avoiding making eye contact with his friends.
“You remember what it was like to be a freshman. Things like these are exciting,” Suguru shot in. Satoru simply shrugged at his comment. “Look, we’ll all keep an eye on her. And you don’t drink anyways, so you’ll be more than sober enough to make sure she’s okay.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Satoru mumbled and stood up from his seat, still not looking at them. “I’ll see you guys later.”
And before you knew it, the weekend came rolling in and you found yourself clutching onto Satoru’s arm for dear life, scared you’d lose him in the crowd.
“We can leave if you want to,” he leaned down to say nearly the second you’d entered the house.
“No, no. It’s fine. Let’s just… find Shoko and Suguru.”
It was a lot to take in. People singing and dancing, chugging drink after drink. But your nerves calmed down when you felt Satoru’s strong hands squeeze yours in reassurance. And once you found the others, your body just felt a lot more at ease. It didn’t take long for you to actually enjoy yourself, even though you decided to stay away from the alcohol, at least for this time.
What wasn’t as enjoyable, was all the female attention Satoru received throughout the evening. It was no secret he was a popular guy, girls lining up to talk to him. But when it came to the girls at school, they mostly just gawked and giggled while he innocently entertained their interests. No, these girls were different. They had clear intentions of taking it further, giving him looks you did not appreciate.
And it bothered you. Oh lord, how it bothered you.
Sitting so close to you, his leg pressed up against yours, you sadly got a front row view of when the girls leaned over and batted their long eyelashes at him, flashing him seductive smiles. You were beyond uncomfortable, trying to look anywhere but scene taking place mere inches from you.
You had no reason to be upset — you were only friends and you’d only ever been friends. Never had the idea of anything else crossed your mind, but you hadn’t ever witnessed ladies glue themselves to him like this before.
“Hey, you okay?” Satoru interrupted your thoughts, turning over to see he was focused on you, the girl at his side quirking an eyebrow.
“‘M fine,” you mumbled, a small smile drawing at your lips. He scanned your face, taking a deep sigh in thought, reading you so clearly.
Out of nowhere, Satoru jumped up from his seat, holding his hand out for you to grab. He wore that award winning smile of his as he opened his mouth, “come on.”
A smile grew on your face to match his as you eagerly let him pull you off the couch before he playfully threw his arm over your shoulder, leading you out the living room. As you walked, you swore you could hear the girl he talked to earlier scoff.
“How does ice cream sound to you?” Looking down at you as he shielded out the tight crowd as he lead you out the door.
And as the two of you left the party, there was laughter on your lips and a genuine, special joy in your eyes you seemed to have reserved only for each other. Shoko and Suguru, however, kept a confused eye on you as you exited the house.
“I’ll never understand them,” Shoko shook her head, before turning to look at her friend who seemed just as frustrated by you and Satoru as she was. “I mean, they’re clearly into each other, right?”
Suguru exhaled sharply through his nose in what sounded like it was supposed to be a chuckle. “It’s weird if they aren’t.”
“When he talked about her before, I just figured they were best friends, like he said. But after meeting her and seeing them together-“
“No, I agree,” Suguru laughed before she was able to finish her sentence. “I’ve never seen ‘best friends’ act like they do.” Shoko nudged his side with her elbow to bring his attention to the girl Satoru had flirted with seconds before he had just stranded her alone on the couch, to see she was pouting, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the door like she was waiting for him to return.
“Neither has she,” she laughed.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were seventeen years old the first time you had your heart broken. Really broken.
Standing outside your boyfriend — no scratch that. Standing outside what was now your ex boyfriend’s front door, you tried to wrap your head around what had just happened, silent tears falling slowly down your face.
It had come out of no where. Yesterday, everything had seemed fine, and now he had suddenly come to the conclusion that you were no longer a good match? It made no sense.
Shaking your head as you took a deep breath, you knew there was only one person who might be able to help you feel a little better. Not to mention, he was probably the only person in the universe right now you could stand to see at all.
The fifteen minute walk from where you’d just had your heart stomped on to your neighbourhood had never felt longer. The silence that filled the dark and abandoned streets was numbing, leaving more room for the self deprecating thoughts to fill your mind. What had you done wrong? What could you have done differently? Was there someone else, someone prettier and funnier than you? Had you not been dedicated enough?
Despite the insane sadness that filled you, you thought if it were to happen, this weekend was probably the best timing, seeing as you wouldn’t have been able seek comfort had it happened any other time. Having taken a gap year after high school to earn money, Satoru worked a lot but he had for once gotten a weekend off. And his parents were out of town on some conference, meaning there was no risk of either of them opening the door to greet your grief struck face.
Soon enough you found yourself in front of the familiar front door, a tiny lump forming in your throat as you placed three soft knocks on the door. Before you knew it, Satoru stood right in front of you, his initial reaction of joy melting away once he processed you were upset.
“What happened?” His voice was so soft, eyes filled with worry.
“Can I come in?” Your voice was barely louder than a whisper.
“Yeah! Of course.” He stepped aside, letting you pass him and enter his home. “You want anything? Is this like an ice cream kinda situation, because I think we have some cookie dough flavoured in the freezer.”
A broken chuckle slipped out of you, followed by a sob. “No, thank you, I’m fine. Just needed to see you,” you sniffled furiously.
“Yeah, sure.” Without saying another word, you simply helped yourself up the stairs and to his bedroom. His eyes never left you as you carefully sat down on his bed and he sat down on his desk chair.
Uncomfortable wasn’t necessarily the word he’d use for seeing you like this, because it had happened before — just not very often. You’d always been a quiet charmer, if there was a way to describe it. Out of the two of you, he’d always been the loud and outgoing one, but he definitely saw you as the one who spread the most joy to those around you, a natural sense of cheerfulness radiating from you. Not to mention you were usually the one who stood for the comforting and advice, meaning he was at a loss on what to do.
“What happened?” He asked carefully.
“We broke up.” The words left you so quickly and easily, Satoru had to blink a few times to realise what you’d just said. “Or he broke up with me is probably more correct.” You avoided his gaze, staring directly at your hands tucked between your thighs, the tears leaving dark circles on your jeans.
“I thought things were going well.”
“So did I.” You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, still sniffling like crazy. “I know you never liked him and didn’t get along with him but I really liked him, y'know?”
A pang of guilt came crashing in over Satoru. He hadn’t been subtle about his dislike for your boyfriend, and it started before the two of you even became official. He did not miss the opportunity to throw a snide comment about him when you brought him up or constantly quarrel on the few occasions they were in the same room. But he couldn’t help it.
Satoru had been so focused on all the guys lining up for you in school, he hadn’t even thought of the boys that might find their way to you from elsewhere.
He still remembered the evening you came home from work at the coffeehouse, such a sweet smile on your face and a blush across your nose when he’d met you at the window that night. So giddy over this cute boy who’d chatted you up and ended up getting your number. Had Satoru known then he’d break your heart this badly, he’d tried harder to shut it down.
“I know I gave him a hard time, but I know you liked him,” he tried to comfort you. “And I’m certain he cared for you too. It’s hard not to.”
“Urgh, I’m such an idiot,” you cracked, hiding your face in your hands as the sobs just tumbled out in one steady stream.
“Hey,” Satoru said, rushing out of his chair to crouch in front of you. Tenderly he grabbed ahold of your wrists to remove them from your face, carefully trying to dry the tears away. “You’re not an idiot, okay?”
A small scoff made its way out of you between the sobs. “I’m not even sure he ever cared about me.”
When your name rolled off his tongue with more compassion than you’d ever heard from him before, your eyes snapped up to meet his. “Listen to me! I am certain he did. I know what you dedicated to that relationship, and he’d be crazy not to care for you. Not just crazy, but a damn magician as well because it’s genuinely impossible. Believe me, I know.” A small smile grew on his lips when he heard he was able to draw a small chuckle out of you. “You’re not an idiot. You just have a big heart. And he’s the idiot if he thinks he should let it go.”
He dried what seemed to be one of your last tears with his thumb, before tucking some of your hair behind your ear. His caring gaze traveled your face, taking in every detail he could when the memory from when you were kids popped into his mind. Just like that time, looking at you all red and puffy, he again found himself thinking you were pretty. Not just pretty — beautiful.
“Thank you, ‘Toru,” you whispered.
“Any time.”
“Can I stay here tonight?”
“Scandalous,” he said dramatically, earning him another shy smile from you. Both of you knew you didn’t have to ask, having slept over hundreds of time throughout the years.
“Who knew you were so good at this,” you smiled weakly as he stood up to go get the extra duvet he had in his closet, which was basically just an extra duvet for you.
“Pfft, I am Satoru Gojo after all. Is there anything I can’t do?” He flashed you a proud grin, instantly rolling your eyes at him.
“You’re not the greatest cook last time I che-“ before you were able to finish your sentence, a pillow came crashing into your face. A lighthearted giggle escaped you, and again Satoru felt his heart flutter a little, so pleased he’d managed to brighten your terrible evening a little bit.
“Watch it, sweetheart, or I’ll have you sleep on the floor.”
“You would never,” you smiled before grabbing one of Satoru’s t-shirts, like you always did, and headed for the bathroom.
Once you met your reflection in the mirror, your eyes grew as all the signs of tonight’s sorrow was incredibly visible on your face. And to think Satoru had seen you like this, knowing he’d tease you endlessly about it once things settled down and you could laugh about it all.
Your eyes were swollen from all the crying, mascara lines down your puffy cheeks. Still sniffling, you cleaned your face, dabbing a hot cloth in hopes you might redeem some of your dignity as you washed away your heartbreak. Looking in the mirror, a sigh left you knowing that this was probably as good as it was going to get. At least you didn’t have makeup smeared all over your face anymore.
Shuffling back into his bedroom, wearing his t-shirt nonetheless, a small lump formed in his throat at the sight of you as he had to fight the urge to let his eyes indulge in your entire figure. What was going on? A million times had you spent the night, and a million times had you gone to bed wearing his shirt, yet tonight felt different. He felt there was something in the air that had shifted, but it went unsaid. So without another word, he simply made his way passed you and to the bathroom. You, on the other hand, paid no attention to his odd behaviour, simply laying down on the bed on the side closest to the wall, your side.
Despite not picking up on his averted gaze, you too sensed there was something in the atmosphere that seemed different than usual, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what. You could easily just blame the breakup, which was definitely lingering in the air, but you knew that wasn’t quite it either. There was something in the tension that you felt were directly connected to Satoru.
When you felt his weight press down on the bed next to you, you reactively turned to look at him, surprised to see he was already laying on his side looking right back at you. Staring deeply into your eyes, you felt as if he was trying to tell you something but you couldn’t make it out.
Same went for Satoru, as he felt it deep down that there was something he needed to tell you but he had no idea what it was, only that it weighed heavier on him now that the evening had been so emotional and raw.
“‘Toru?”
“Hm?”
“What was it about him you didn’t like?” Satoru couldn’t help but smirk somewhat shamefully.
“It’s not important,” a slight chuckle slipping out of him.
“With a smile like that, you have to tell me.” Satoru readjusted his head on the pillow, ending up even closer to your face than intended but neither of you pulled away.
“Well, I like it best when I have you to myself.”
“Please,” you scoffed, tucking one of your hands under your cheek, carefully tilting forward a little. “That’s ridiculous, even for you.”
“No, I’m serious,” he gave you a sweet smile. “We’ve been so close for so long, it’s weird suddenly having to share you.”
You took a deep sigh, your heart skipping a small beat at his answer. “Well, I had to share you first.”
His eyebrows instantly pinched together into a frown, a humorous smirk on his lips. “Excuse me?”
“So you’ve forgotten when you first started high school? It was always ‘Suguru this’ and ‘Shoko that’.”
“That’s not the same,” he mocked you.
“How’s that not the same?” Offended at his disregard for your experience of him suddenly having a bigger social circle, you knew it was all in a playful manner.
“Because-” was all he managed to get out before you noticed his eyes betraying him as they quickly glanced down at your lips, before looking back into your eyes. Drawing a sharp breath, you swore you might be able to spot a strong blush heat his face, but it was too dark to tell for sure.
He exhaled a shaky breath, which you felt brush against your face making you realise just how close you were to each other.
All the hairs on your body stood up when you felt his light touch brush against your arm that was resting between you. Was this weird? You didn’t know. It wasn’t like it was the first time he’d touched you like this, so what was making tonight so different?
One slight movement and your noses would grace against each other. He could do it, he could just tilt his head forward and his lips would connect with yours and he was certain it would be delicious. Your eyes had captured his gaze, and he felt as if he could stare into them forever-
No, stop!
You flinched at his sudden movements when he pulled away to turn around, with his back facing you.
His heart sunk into his stomach, mentally cursing himself now that he wasn’t facing you anymore. He couldn’t believe he had actually wanted to kiss you, his best friend. It wouldn’t be right, especially not tonight when you were as vulnerable as you were. He’d be a complete asshole to take advantage of that. Not to mention how embarrassed he would have been in the morning when you weren’t trapped under the haze of heartbreak and would have realised how much of a mistake it had been.
“Good night,” he said in his usual, cheerful tone and the curse was broken.
The next morning, you’d woken up to an empty bed, much like you always did when you spent the night. What was out of the ordinary, was seeing him in the kitchen in full swing serving pancakes and ice cream calling it “the breakfast for breakups”.
You couldn’t tell if you were hurt or not by how he was acting, as if last night never happened. Was he not going to mention how close the two of you had been to locking lip? He simply went about the morning, just as happy as he always was.
And never brought it up.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were eighteen years old when you and Satoru fell apart.
Satoru had left for college, and at first you’d been so lost on what to do. For the first time since you were six, he wasn’t immediately at your side.
You remembered the day he left so clearly, clinging on around his neck, refusing to let go because you didn’t want him to get in his car and drive off, unsure when you’d see him again. When the two of you eventually managed to break the hug, you heard a not so subtle sniffle and spotted faint redness around his eyes.
“Don’t tell me you’re crying, ‘Toru,” you teased in between your own sniffles.
“You got me there,” he said with a sad chuckle slipping out, surprising you that he didn’t even attempt to fire back, just surrendering to his emotions. “Gonna miss you.”
“Gonna miss you too,” you whispered in response. Not much more was spoken before he drove off, like it all was just too much for either of you to talk about.
The first few days you didn’t do much else than lay in bed and wait for him to call, like he promised he would. And exactly at 8 pm, your phone lit up with his name where he told you all about how hectic his days were — and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to have daily calls anymore once the semester started for real.
“No, of course. I mean, I go back to school soon too so.”
And as the time went on, the calls got more and more rare. From every day, to three times a week, once a week, until you were lucky it happened every fourteen days.
Even though you hated it, you couldn’t blame him. Of course he was busy, he had an entirely new everyday life filled with classes and new people. And when he did make time for the phone call, you couldn’t help but feel genuine happiness when you heard how excited he was about all of it. But you knew you couldn’t keep sitting around sulking as you waited for his call. You decided you had to be okay without him.
It was your senior year after all — it was your time to shine, and you were still with the popular crowd even though Satoru wasn’t there anymore. Now you finally had the opportunity to get to know them better.
Turned out you had more in common with them than you thought, getting particularly close with the girls of the group. And it was refreshing to have girl friends, who seemed to match some of your interests in a way Satoru never managed to. Your horizons just expanded, your schedule packed nearly from morning until night. Not to mention your weekends were also busy. The parties you and Satoru usually left early or skipped all together, had become fun.
This weekend was no different. Sitting at your vanity doing your makeup for the evening when you heard your mom’s voice yell from downstairs. “There’s someone here to see you.”
“Just send her up,” you yelled back. But when you turned around to face who you thought was your friend who was coming to get ready with you, your jaw dropped at the sight of the tall figure standing there instead.
“Her? Not the last time I checked,” Satoru smiled.
“Oh, my god, ‘Toru!” You squealed in excitement, running at him as you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, smiling even harder when he hugged you back just as firmly.
When he let you down, your eyes was instantly drawn to his. It’s been so long since you’d been able to stare into those captivating, blue eyes, and now you melted having them look down on you for the first time in months. Now that you were finally able to see him again, to touch him again, it hit you like a semi truck just how much you had missed him. You even found yourself getting a little emotional, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.
“God, don’t wanna ruin my makeup,” you laughed.
“I was just about to say, you look great,” he said, unable to peer his eyes off you, because ‘great’ was an understatement.
“Why, thank you,” you beamed at him, a smile stretching from one ear to another.
“Going somewhere?” His eyebrows narrowed, letting his chipper composure slip for just a second but he quickly tried to shake it off.
“Yeah, there’s a party tonight. The group’s going, but I can cancel if-“
“No, of course not. I’m home all weekend.” There was a slight twinge in your heart, disappointed that he didn’t have the guts to accept your offer. There was not a single ounce of doubt that you’d drop the party for him in a heartbeat — you had after all longed for him to come home to visit since the second his car had driven out of view the day he left.
“Well, maybe you could come along?” You suggested, grabbing his hands in yours.
“I just think I’m going to stay home with my parents tonight,” he swallowed, giving you a weak smile.
He knew he should have just taken you up in the offer to ditch the party, but he didn’t have the heart to, especially when you were all dolled up for the evening already.
All he’d looked forward to was come home and hang with you and catch up all night, never falling asleep because he had missed your voice so much. But he knew that eventually, the guilt would eat him up, hogging you for the night when you were supposed to be somewhere else.
Now he had to sit at home, alone and bored, because he had lied when he told you about his parents, seeing as they weren’t back in town until tomorrow. He knew he would spend the night miserable, but it would beat having to tag along at your heels to a party he didn’t want to attend in the first place and witness how close you’d gotten to all your new friends while he’d been away, still preferring to have you to himself.
“Will you at least stay until I leave? And then I’m all yours for the whole of tomorrow?” For the time being, he managed to let his blues slip away, especially when you gawked at him with a sparkle in your eyes and an infectious smile.
“Of course.” His eyes followed your cheerful walk back to your vanity as he sat down on your bed. Once seated, your conversation flowed like normal, as if no time had passed at all since the last time you saw each other. He told you about classes and how much more difficult it was now, especially seeing as he wasn’t the biggest fan of studying.
And he knew he should be excited when you told him everything about your new life. How you’d finally taken the time to get the know the rest of the group and how great they all were, how fun you had it with all of them with all the stuff you guys did in your spare time, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t sting. He felt as if he was missing everything, losing the spot he used to have with you, replaced by his old friends. He knew it was unfair to think that way, but but there was no stopping his doomed spiralling.
“Oh, and that’s probably her coming now!” You perked up when footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs. The next second, a girl he knew used to be in his friend group stood in the doorway.
“Satoru? What a pleasant surprise,” she beamed at him, and guilt hit him when he couldn’t even remember her name.
“Yeah, just home for the weekend,” he smirked at her.
She flashed him another smile before turning to you. “You ready?”
“Just about,” you sighed. Quickly, you grabbed your purse and skipped over to Satoru. “See you tomorrow, okay?” You said cheerfully as you placed a quick peck on his cheek before running out, leaving him standing alone in your bedroom.
He stared dumbfounded at the empty space you occupied just seconds ago, still surprised by the kiss as it was something completely new. Was that something you’d picked up from the group? Did that mean you went around kissing everyone’s cheeks? His mind ran crazy with questions, all making him equally jealous.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” you whispered into the phone still ringing. It was the third time you had tried to call Satoru and he still hadn’t picked up, which was incredibly unlike him. He always picked up almost immediately, especially when you were calling.
“Hey,” you finally heard him sigh on the other end of the line.
“Thank god you answered,” you said, teeth chattering in the freezing cold. “Could you please, please, please pick me up?”
“You okay?” There was a hint of worry in his voice, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to conceal it.
“No. Or yes. Or I don’t know, but I’m cold and I need to go home!” Another sigh.
“Where are you?”
“You’re my angel,” you breathed before giving him the address.
“I’ll be there in fifteen.” Before you managed to say goodbye, Satoru had already hung up. You stared blankly at the phone for a few seconds in shock of his abrupt ending, but right now, you were too cold to ponder any further on his behaviour. Tightly having folded your arms around yourself and rubbing your legs together, you desperately tried to get some heat in your body.
Finally, you saw the familiar car pull up in front of you, a sigh of relief leaving your body once you were greeted by the hot air as you sat down in the passenger seat.
“You’re really a life saver,” you spoke as you leaned your head back on the headrest, waiting to meet his eyes but he never turned to look at you. His eyes were glued to the road, a tight grip on the steering wheel as he kept chewing on the inside of his cheek. “You okay, ‘Toru?”
“‘M just fine,” he answered simply, still fixated on the road.
“Then why won’t you look at me?” You snorted, which made him quickly turn his head to give you a cold glare before looking at the road again.
“How come you were standing out in the cold all alone?” When he didn’t acknowledge your question further, you just fell back into your seat again and decided not to take it any further.
“You don’t wanna know,” you sighed, staring out the window.
“No, I’m curious.” If his tone told you anything, it was that he was pissed. You just hoped it wasn’t directed at you.
“I was kicked out.”
“What, too drunk to be in the house?” His comment caught you off guard at it seemed nothing but spiteful. You flipped your head to look at him again, only to see he was still unwilling to look at you.
“Do I seem too drunk to you?” He only shrugged, knowing the answer was ‘no’. “If you wanna know, I-“ you stopped yourself from finishing, too embarrassed to utter the words.
“Don’t get shy on my behalf.”
“I was about to sleep with someone, but after we undressed, something came over him and he just threw me out,” you complained, crossing your arms and staring at the road like he had earlier.
“You what?” Satoru exclaimed, and now he finally decided to shoot you a glare. “Who?”
“Does it matter?” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze which you knew was just purely judgemental. It seemed he was more upset about the part where you were going to sleep with someone than the fact that you were literally thrown out, which only ended up fuelling your own anger.
“Who was it?” He repeated sternly.
“Just some guy I met there, I don’t know,” you shrugged, and instantly a loud huff left Satoru.
“Wow,” he said in utter disbelief. “So this is who you are now.” Finally turning to look at him again, your face hot with anger, you saw his eyebrows were raised in frustration and his tongue was poking the inside of his cheek.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Never knew you to be someone who just spread your legs for anyone.” You gaped at him, not believing the words coming out of his mouth.
“Stop the car,” you managed to force out somewhat calmly through gritted teeth.
“I’m not stopping-“
“Stop the fucking car, Satoru,” you practically yelled at him, startled when he suddenly slammed the breaks. Once the car had stopped, you didn’t hesitate to unbuckle your seatbelt and scramble out of the car, hearing him call your name before you slammed the door shut after you.
With your arms wrapped around yourself, you started to walk down the street in the direction of your house, knowing you were still pretty far from home. But you knew you were too furious to get back in the car with Satoru.
“Come on, get back in the car,” Satoru’s voice complained down the street.
“So you can slut shame me some more? Think I’ll pass,” you shouted back. It took only a second until you heard the car engine shut off before hurried footsteps against the wet pavement made its way over to you, Satoru positioning himself right in front of you.
“Fine, sorry, please get back in the car,” he said disingenuous, scowling down at you with his hands in his pockets.
“You expect me to accept that apology?” You scowled right back at him.
“Stop acting like a brat and just-“
“Brat? Really?” You interrupted him, raising your eyebrows at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it just as quickly with a deep sigh. “Thought so.” Keeping your mean glare at him, you tried to walk past him, but he surprised you by taking a strong grip of your arm.
“So is this like a weekly occurrence now?” You forcefully pulled out of his grip.
You simply shrugged while trying to find the right answer, wanting to keep your own anger in check even though you felt you were close to boiling over. “I mean, there’s something happening every weekend but that doesn’t mean I always participate.” He only scoffed, turning away from you and looking around the street. “What?”
“So now you’re just this crazy party girl that sleeps with anyone that’s available?”
You truly couldn’t believe it was Satoru saying these words to you, your best friend in the entire world. The person you’d known most your life, who knew your every deepest, darkest secret and had never judged you in the slightest — suddenly throwing mean words right to your face like you were just some nobody.
“Like you’re one to talk! You flirt with any girl that has a pulse, and not just in school. Remember, you went to parties too and enjoyed wallowing in the attention of anyone who’d give it to you!”
“I never liked going to parties. I still don’t,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Glad to see some things hasn’t changed, unlike the fact that you’ve turned into an asshole,” you spat at him, trying to walk away again, but he yanked a hold of you once more.
“Well, I’m not the only one who has changed,” he said in a low voice, giving you a stern look through his eyebrows.
A light laugh of disbelief escaped you, the tears quickly starting to well up in your eyes. Was this really the same person you’d physically been unable to let go off five months ago? The one person you believed could never intentionally hurt you the way he was now?
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” Flickering between his eyes, you knew you’d caught on. “Did you really think I was going to sit around and wait for you?”
“I certainly didn’t expect you to go and replace me the first chance you got.”
“Replace you?!” You exclaimed before the entire sentence had left his lips.
“Yes, replace me!” He fired back, his tone more angry than he wanted it to be, because sadness was all he truly felt.
“So you haven’t gotten any new friends at university?”
“That’s different-“
“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned in frustration, your hands rubbing your face. “I am so tired of you saying it is different for you! You’ve done that for years.”
Satoru had his hands deeply tucked in his pockets, his shoulders up to his ears with tension. He was already filled with guilt for talking to you this way, something he’d never done before. Then again, he couldn’t remember having this many negative feelings regarding you running wild in him.
“It’s baffling to me that you’re actually saying all these things to me, like it isn’t you that keep postponing our phone calls.” You said, your tone transformed from anger into the sorrow that had taken residence in you instead.
He breathed your name, almost like he seemed disappointed in a way. “Classes are riding my ass.”
“You don’t think I know that?” You fired back immediately, your tone remaining calm as you continued to hold back the tears. “But truth is, it has caused you to not make time for the phone calls.”
“You can’t expect me to be able to make time-“
What seemed to be the mix of a sob and a scoff parted your lips, cutting him off. It was like talking to a brick wall, because it felt like nothing you said reached him.
Had he always been like this? Too wrapped up with his own idea of being right that he took no regards for your opinion? If so, how had the two of you managed to go all those years without you properly realising it?
“If you haven’t been paying attention, it’s not me that’s had too many expectations, but you!”
His head fell back, retrieving his hands from his pockets to fold them over his chest. As his entire posture turned loose, you couldn’t bare to look at him when the first tear fell. He just seemed to be so sick of this conversation — sick of you — an idea that made you want to throw up on the spot.
“You’re being unreasonable,” he said in a low voice, as if he knew he was in the wrong but too stubborn to back down. He’d already been so cruel, a part of him feeling like he had already gone too far to double down now.
“I’m being unreasonable?!” You snapped, walking right up to him, now close enough to feel the heat radiate off him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding with me?”
Never in a million years could you have predicted your favourite person in the universe to speak to you this way, biting your head off for simply living your life. But it went deeper than being upset about you going to some random party. It seemed like he truly disliked the person you were right now, and nothing had ever hurt you as much.
“For the record, I did wait. So many nights I just sat in my room, staring at the damn phone, waiting for you to call.” You were sobbing now, all restraints of your tears out the window. “But I think you’re not half as busy with your studies as you claim to be, but very busy making new friends, which is why it’s nothing but cruel of you to go at me like this!”
“You always do that!” He snapped, causing your sobs to halt for a second, eyebrows quirking up in surprise. “You always assume these things about me, paint me out to be this specific person without having all the facts.”
“I know you better than I know myself, for fucks sake! You hate to work, avoid it for all that it’s worth, and now you’re trying to tell me you work so hard?” Silence. “And you’ve always loved attention. You feed on it, and every single living person on this planet can’t help but just give it to you! I’m willing to bet my last dime you’re surrounded with all sorts of people just fighting for your time!”
Without stuttering, you fired shot after shot, feeling bad even though every last word of it was true.
The reality of the fight washed over you, knowing you’d never fought like this before. A friendship spanning twelve years was doomed to have some disagreements along the way. And with both you and Satoru having such strong personalities, there had been quite a few. But never had either of you ever turned mean, like right now, no matter how serious the argument had been.
“Despite what you might think, I’m not one of your silly school girls who just follow you around to stroke your ego. I’m my own person, always have been. And I’m sorry you’re pissy about the fact that I’m doing fine without you here and I’m sorry that the image you had of me is finally shattering.”
You felt you’d gotten what you had on your mind off your chest, and all that fell out of you now were uncontrollable sobs. Not only were you absolutely devastated, but you were scared. The person that stood before you didn’t feel like someone you knew, meaning you had no idea what might come out of his mouth next.
“Think I see you clearer than ever.”
Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you tried to choke back your sobs, not feeling he was worthy of hearing the affect he had on you right now. You slowly began to nod your head, looking about for a few seconds before you simply began to walk away without saying another word. And this time you didn’t feel his hand grab your arm.
The second your head had hit the pillow after you’d gotten home, you erupted into loud, unruly sobs, that even managed to wake your parents. They stormed into your room, beyond scared something was terribly wrong, and your mom managed to pull your head into her lap, stroking your hair in an attempt to get you to calm down so you’d be able to tell them what had happened, but to no prevail. While she desperately tried to hum you to peace, your dad stood watching in anguish as he had no clue what to do in order to help.
Eventually, the sobs wore you out to the point where you fell asleep in her lap.
Waking up the next morning, you’d felt like it had all been just a horrible nightmare, and in just a few minutes, Satoru would stand at your door, so excited to just do absolutely nothing with you like you had planned.
But you sat in your bed and stared at the door, waiting for him to show up but he never did. When you became restless, you paced around the room, daring to glance out the window in hopes you’d spot him sitting by his windowsill. But here too, you were left disappointed. No Satoru shaped silhouette made himself known, and at some point during the day, he had shut the blinds without you noticing.
Two days later, your mom came into your room and asked why Satoru had left to go back to university already when you guys hadn’t hung out yet.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were twenty years old when you started university.
After a therapeutic gap year of working and travelling, you were finally ready to go back to school, excited to see what the life of a university student was all about.
So far it all seemed to go as smoothly as one could hope for — moving in and setting up in your small dormitory, putting in a lot of effort to make it a space where you could feel at home. Signing up for classes and getting all the books you needed was easier than expected, some kindhearted strangers more than willing to help you get it all right. And lastly, finding your way around campus wasn’t nearly the issue you thought it would be. You easily manoeuvred your way around the grounds, quickly coming across spots you could picture yourself just hanging out.
You were more than prepared by the time the first class rolled around, entering the huge auditorium, nervously walking down the stairs and sitting down in an available seat in one of the rows closer to the front.
Suddenly it began to dawn on you that you were actually in university, working your way to a future career like you’d always talked about. All your hard work in school, your academic achievements, finally paying off, letting you be in environment of equally dedicated individuals.
However, even though your peers seemed to be on the same level as you academically, you got the impression they had excelled passed you socially already. As you let your eyes roam the crowd, you noticed how people had already made friends and even formed groups, greeting each other with warm smiles as they sat down together.
You didn’t have the chance to brood about it for too long, as a roaring voice spoke up from the front of the classroom, drawing everyone’s attention to him, the chatter quickly quieting down. The assertive figure introduced himself before heading straight into the plans for the semester, asking if anyone had any questions. While a few students raised their voice, you just desperately wrote down everything being said, just in case it might be useful somewhere down the line.
“I look forward to teach you this introductory class in education. I’m sure you’ll make great teachers one day,” he smiled. “Before we get started, there’s someone I’d like to introduce. I have the privilege of being assigned a TA this semester — come on up.”
Everyone’s eyes followed the professors gesture towards the person who’d just gotten up from his chair by the exit. All the air was immediately sucked out of your lungs when your eyes landed on the one person you hadn’t expected to see.
“Good morning everyone,” he said in his characteristically suave voice, hearing the girls in the auditorium instantly begin to whisper amongst them at the sight of him. “I’m Satoru Gojo, I’ll be the professors teacher assistant this semester. Any questions you might-“
The words instantly died in his throat when his gaze landed on you, tensed up in your seat. He could almost see you shiver under his intense glare.
Nearly two years had passed since the last time he saw you, and not a day had gone by where he hadn’t cursed himself for how he treated you that night. He regretted it all, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to face you and apologise, even though you more than deserved it.
Eventually, the days just passed him by and it felt like an injustice for him to just jump into your life again so he decided not to, which resulted in the most miserable two years of his life.
You wanted to look away, but the shock of seeing him again had taken over your body, holding your attention hostage under his drilling blue eyes.
He’d let his hair grow a little longer, which suited him, even though he didn’t need it to improve his looks. It also seemed to have bulked up a little. Not much, just enough for you to notice as his navy, button up shirt hugged his arms in a way his clothes never had before.
“Mr. Gojo?” The professor’s voice broke his stare, bringing him back to real world and acknowledging all the faces staring at him.
“Yeah, sorry-“ he cleared his throat. “Any questions you might have, don’t hesitate to come to me,” he stuttered over his sentence, shooting you quick glance even though he tried to keep his attention on the crowd.
With a shy smile, he made his way back to his seat, his eyes once again finding you as he was seated. You shrunk in your seat, your entire body on fire from having his eyes observe you for the first time in so long, sure you’re heart might actually stop from the stress.
Throughout the entire lecture, you both kept stealing glances from one another, an unspoken sensation filling the air between you, like you both could feel how badly you’d missed and craved the other the period you’d been separated.
His eyes carried the same weight they always did when looking at you, uncomfortably restless in your seat, fidgeting with the paper of your notebook and trying to keep the tapping of your foot to a minimum. When your eyes weren’t automatically drawn to Satoru, you peeked at the clock hanging above the whiteboard, begging for time to pass so you could storm out of the classroom and finally be able to breath properly again.
You were sure the seconds lasted longer now than normal, but the lecture finally ended and you instantly began to gather your things, shoving them in your bag as quickly as possible. Daring to shoot Satoru another look, you were glad to see he’d been surrounded by students (mostly girls), hindering him from making his way to you — or so you thought.
“I have a meeting to get to,” Satoru lied, looking at you packing up your stuff before rushing up the stairs towards the auditorium exit. “But here’s my email. Just… send whatever questions you might have and I’ll answer as soon as I have the time.” It didn’t seem like anyone picked up on the fact that he was lying through his teeth, but they all wore a disappointed expression when he began to push his way through the crowd, sprinting up the stairs to catch up with you.
You stopped dead in your tracks, even though you wanted to just keep moving, when you heard that silky smooth voice speak your name. You reluctantly turned around to face him, still only managing to let out shallow breaths.
“I- Uhm.” Now that he finally had your full attention, his mind ran blank and his mouth dry, in awe at your familiar eyes staring up at him, lips pressed together in a tight line. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you tried to reply, but barely a sound could be heard. His eyes shot to your feet, as you kept shifting your weight from one foot to the other, clearly not at ease seeing him again.
“You look- I mean I didn’t know you wanted to become a teacher,” he stumbled over his words, his hand coming up to rub the nape of his neck.
“Me neither,” it slipped out of you, instantly pinching your eyes shut when you reflected on what had left your lips. “What I mean is I only decided recently.”
He groaned softly, feeling like nothing he wanted to say would be enough. “You finding university alright?”
It hurt. Holy hell, how it hurt, not to have the conversation flow as natural. Every atom in your body tried to convince you to just lean into what you were used to, resurrect the friendship just like that.
You nodded frantically at his question. “Yeah, much to see.”
Clearing his throat, he gathered up the courage to ask what had roamed his mind since he spotted you at the start of the lecture. “If you’re ever available, I’d love for us to grab a coffee or something,” he said it so quickly you were barely able to decode what he even suggested, but once it registered, you drew another sharp breath.
“Sure.”
“Really?” Narrowing his eyebrows at you, he hadn’t expected you to accept so willingly. He hadn’t really expected you to accept at all, if he was honest.
You didn’t know if you regretted accepting his invitation so quickly, but if there was a chance he’d apologise, you wanted to hear it simply because you deserved it. Or maybe that was the excuse you told yourself because you so desperately wanted to hang out with him.
“You haven’t changed your number, right?” You shook your head. “I’ll just text you.” The faintest smile grew on your lips as you simply nodded, a light blush spreading across Satoru’s face at the delightful sight.
“See you around, ‘Toru,” you said out if habit, quickly turning around and walking away so he wouldn’t be able to see that you too were blushing, regretting the use of his old nickname.
It didn’t even take two hours before your phone dinged with a text from him, where he suggested a time and place.
toru <3: how about next friday after the lecture? there’s this great coffeehouse five minutes from campus
you: sounds good :)
It seemed Friday couldn’t come quick enough, your anxiousness building up every lecture you had together. Despite feeling like the worst of the shock had passed as you simply flashed each other a friendly smile and a small wave when you saw each other, your mind would never get peace until everything was out in the open.
And now you finally sat opposite him, a strong grip on your mug to put your nerves somewhere. Satoru was scared you might shatter it, your knuckles turning white by how hard you were clutching at it.
“I’m really glad you decided to join,” he started awkwardly.
In all the years you’d known him, you’d never had the satisfaction of witnessing him awkward. It seemed like his default setting was mr. smooth talker, always able to find the right words in order to get what he wanted no matter how unlikely it seemed. But all that was out the window, staring at you with a sense of embarrassment, looking like a scared, young boy forced to face his stupid crush, waiting to get rejected after a sorry attempt at asking for a date.
“Me too.”
“You look really pretty- I mean, you look great. You’ve turned out pretty. Not that you were ugly before, you’ve never been ugly. In fact-“
His clumsy attempt at talking to you was cute, which was all it took to start chipping away at your cold exterior, the corner of your lips betraying you as it curled up in a small smirk.
“Thank you,” you said softly, his shoulders instantly relaxing.
Something about you was definitely different, but the tone in your voice made him realise it was actually you that was sitting in front of him; his best friend. There was no reason he shouldn’t be anything but comfortable around you. Especially now when he’d been offered the opportunity to maybe make amends, he couldn’t throw it away.
“I’m sorry,” he said genuinely. “I don’t want to give you any dumb excuses, because there aren’t any. I’m sorry and you didn’t deserve any of what I said to you that night.”
His voice had turned steady now, taking back the assertiveness you were so used to hearing. “I’m sorry too.”
He instantly snorted, much to your surprise. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.” He seemed to hold back a chuckle.
“Well, duh, but thought it was polite thing to say.” You were surprised by your own words, mirroring his humoured and shocked expression. Maybe he didn’t deserved to have you resort to playful banter already, but it just fell out of you so naturally. “You look great too, by the way.”
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” he smirked smugly, while you rolled your eyes at him.
“Uneasy is the head that wears the crown,” you corrected him, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.
“Okay, nerd.”
Your lips pursed together, unable to fight it anymore, a sweet smile hiding under the annoyed facade — and he noticed, his heart doing a full flip at finally being able to see it in person again. He’d only been able to dream of it in the time apart, and a hope began to spring in him that finally he might get you back in his life.
And this was just the first coffee of many. It started as a weekly thing, in the beginning consisting of airing it all out in order to establish the trust again. But it didn’t take long until you both fell into an old and familiar pattern.
It started with tagging along to lectures. Next thing, Satoru suggested you ordered dinner while studying, however not much studying was done. The evening was spent sitting on the floor of your dorm, stuffing your faces with take out and reminiscing of your days back in high school, talking about all the gossip and drama that went down.
There was a mutual understanding that you both had to make up for the lost time, both sad you’d wasted so long not being in contact when it could all have been resolved if you’d both been mature enough to just reach out.
But despite both of you resorting to old habits, quickly acting as close as you were back then, things had escalated.
Before, he’d simply thrown his arm lazily across your shoulders without a single thought. Now his muscular arm held a more possessive grip on you like he was preventing another outcome of you slipping away. And unlike before, you matched his energy, letting your arm slide along his back and grab tightly ahold of his waist to secure him close to you.
When he subconsciously began to fidget with your fingers, you eventually let your fingers glide between his to interlock your hands, where both of you just let them rest, his thumb softly stroking you.
And when he was gentleman enough to open the door for you every chance he got, he gawked at you with pure affection in his eyes and he sneakily let his hand rest on the small of your back as you passed him.
Neither of you ever mentioned it. You gladly just let it happen, both leaning into it, getting more and more touchy as time went on. And it didn’t go unnoticed by your fellow students, ugly glares in your direction as they wondered how you’d gotten so close to the incredibly hot TA in the matter of weeks, also considering how many people he had throwing themselves at his feet.
You couldn’t care less however. You were simply living in the joyful bliss of having your best friend back.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
His jaw dropped to the floor when you stepped out of the bathroom, not even noticing his lingering gaze on you, simply walking over to your purse to get your lipgloss.
The sinfully short dress hugged your curves just right, leaving little to the imagination. His eyes darted to the knee high, leather boots that elongated your enticing legs before letting his eyes indulge up your body, tracing your exposed collarbones-
“Satoru?” Drawing his attention to your face, which genuinely left him stunned having enhanced your already beautiful features, hair tucked up messily by a claw clip. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
More like an angel, he thought, trying to snap out of the haze you had him under as he slowly began to approach you.
What was happening?
There was a hunger in his eyes you’d never seen before, at least not looking at you. It was like he moved in slow motion, your heart quickly picking up the pace the closer he got. “Satoru?” You asked again, but a tremble in your voice exposed your nerves. “What are you doing?”
A confident, on brand smirk made its way onto his face, revealing his infamous dimples as he let his hand slip to your cheek, sliding it to the side of your throat and letting his thumb draw graciously soft lines along your jaw.
“I should have kissed you that night.”
His quiet confession filled the room, having your sole focus be his eyes, those beautiful, heavenly eyes that always saw right through you. The night in question had often played in your mind, fantasising about what could have happened if either of you had decided to cross the line.
“Would you have kissed me back?” The dominance in his voice had a weird influence on you, causing your eyes to flicker away from his eyes to travel across the attractive line of his curved lips.
“Without hesitation.” His grin widened, his thumb now moving to stroke your bottom lip. Much like that god forsaken night, he leaned forward, but this time he let his nose brush against yours, his breath brushing against your lips.
“We’re skipping the party,” he whispered.
“Didn’t wanna go anyways,” you huffed before finally being the one to engage the kiss, crashing into his lips, just as soft as you’d always imagined them to be.
Hungrily tying you arms around his neck in order to help deepen the passionate kiss, you felt his tongue slide along your bottom lip as if he was asking for you to open your mouth, to which you happily obliged.
His firm hands slid down your waist before stopping at your thighs, squeezing slightly into your plush flesh. Without breaking the kiss, you jumped into his arms with ease, wrapping your legs around his slim waist as he placed his hands on your ass, not an ounce of fear in you that he’d ever drop you.
Your hands found their way to his soft hair, instantly drawing out a soft moan from him, causing you to smile into the kiss.
“That’s what you like, huh?” You teased, pulling away from him order to get a look at his face.
“Shut up,” he chuckled before reconnecting your lips when you felt he began to walk in the direction of your bedroom.
Since rekindling your friendship, everything had moved at the speed of light. As it all had happened, you’d noticed the increased intimacy, both physically and mentally, but you hadn’t wanted to assume it was anything more than just a result of missing each other.
You’d experienced a new sensation of yearning for Satoru, one that had previously only passed you by in random split seconds which you’d always suppressed to the back of your mind. Never had you wanted to jeopardise your friendship for anything, especially for what you thought was just innocent lust that naturally washed over anyone that was in the close vicinity of Satoru.
But clearly you were wrong. Maybe there had always been a stronger desire to explore him in a different way that had just been buried because it seemed illegal. Not to forget the fact that it was being reciprocated, his strong hands exploring your body with an urgency you had never experienced with anyone before.
The meaningful and deep history only appeared to fuel the hunger you felt for one another, behaving as if neither of you had experienced the phenomenon of another person’s touch in a lifetime — and it was only specifically each other who could satisfy the need.
Still with a tight grip, he hesitatingly let you down, his hands sliding up your body to hoist your dress so it gathered around your lower abdomen. “This dress need to come off, baby,” he breathed into your mouth as he continued to pull it up your body.
You simply lifted your arms to let him twist the dress over your head, his eyes instantly locking to your perky tits as if they were calling his name. Before he had the chance to give into the temptation of fondling them, playing with your nipples, you tugged at the bottom of his sweater. No way you were going to stand in all your glory while his clothes served as a hindrance to your desire.
Again his alluring smirk greeted you, more than willingly pulling it over his head to reveal his chiselled torso, confirming your theory that he had gotten bulkier, because you would definitely have remembered if he looked like that before.
“Is this crazy?” You asked shakily after having removed your shoes and reaching for his belt buckle. Noticing the slight jitters hiding between your excitement, he snatched ahold of your chin to force you to look at his face.
“Not crazier than the fact that I should have done this ages ago.”
Pulling your face towards him, he had you standing on your tip toes in order to dedicate as much of yourself to the kiss as humanly possible.
Once the pants were off him, your hand found his chest, fighting the urge to dig your nails into his toned pecks, guiding him backwards to sit down on your bed. With glee you straddled him, embarrassment flushed your cheeks as a needy whimper just fell from your lips when his huge bulge ended up pressing against your clothed core, an amused eyebrow quirking up on Satoru’s face.
“Damn, calm down,” he teased, your nose scrunching up to conceal the playful smile that was taking over.
“Idiot.” Grabbing his face, you let your open mouth graze against his when one of his hands palmed your clothed pussy, pulling another moan from your lips.
Without warning, he pulled your black laced panties aside, his thumb rubbing small circles on your clit. You bit your lip to choke back yet another moan. Knowing Satoru, you knew he’d forever hold it against you — how he managed to withdraw those lewd sounds from you so easily.
“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he panted, enjoying the view of your scrunched up face of pleasure. “Can’t wait to feel you around me.”
“‘Toru, I-“ you forced out when you felt him slip two lengthy digests inside you as he traced soft, little pecks along your collarbone that he had admired earlier. Hearing you barely able to utter his nickname mixed with the low squelching of your pussy, basically drenched already, was something he had only been able to imagine before. And god, was the real thing ten times better than his fantasy.
“Getting shy around me, pretty? That’s unlike you.” Again you wanted to roll your eyes at him, because he was even more cheeky when having you at his mercy than normal. But the consistent pressure on your sensitive nub along with the movement of his fingers were too much to even give that a try.
Fingertips clawing at his shoulders, slowly starting to rock your hips as you were being drawn closer and closer to the edge.
His smooth motion had you seeing stars behind your eyelids, the tingle of orgasm bubbling up inside you when he had you gasp in disappointment when you were deprived of his skilled touch.
Motherfucker.
“What-“ your eyes fluttered open in confusion before you were thrown off his lap, landing softly on your back, sinking into the mattress. Next thing, his boxers hit the floor, exposing his already rock hard dick. Eyeing the size, his cocky personality suddenly made a whole lot of sense.
Hovering over you, he swiftly tilted your head to the side to place a series of open mouthed kisses as he used his leg to spread your legs apart, setting himself up between them, feeling his tip slightly touch your entrance as it twitched.
“I need you,” it vibrated against your skin, one arm wrapping around his back in a desperate need to feel every inch of him, while the other traveled south to lace around his dick. It was your turn to draw sounds from him, a small, satisfied giggle ringing in his ear as a reaction to hearing his pathetic whimper.
“Sorry,” your giggle trailed off when he lifted his head to look down at you, the ghost of a smile on his face telling you he enjoyed the small banter during it all.
You gave him a few slow pumps, using your thumb to rub some of his precum across his tip, aligning him with the opening of your cunt as he punished you with a rough kiss on the lips.
That’s when you finally let go, your hand finding his back again to prepare yourself to be filled with his dick. He didn’t wait to slide into you with ease, gasping softly as you involuntarily clenched around his size, trying to get used to it.
“You okay?” He mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours. You only nodded before pulling him in for another kiss, reassuring him that you were alright and more than ready.
The line was officially crossed — no going back now. You could never go back to being just best friends, but maybe that was for the best, that maybe you’d always meant to be more. Every fibre of his being had for a long time ached to have you like this, spread out and desperate for him and only him.
At first he moved in a slow and sensual pace, wanting to be entirely sure you could take it. Eyeing your expression in awe, finally being able to be the one to make you grimace with pleasure.
“Wanted this for so long,” he murmured, being driven to lose all control hearing all your sweet whimpers, occasionally mumbling his name, which had him buck his hips faster and deeper, desperate to push you to climax.
Taking every inch of him over and over, stretching around him, he glanced down to get a look of the beautiful sight, his cock moving in and out, in and out, like you were made for him.
Your nails burrowed into his back before dragging down, too dazed in the bliss of Satoru’s cock stuffed in you to care about the red lines you knew you’d created, marking him as yours. Your toes curled as he kept feeding you horny affirmations and heartfelt compliments.
“Fuck fuck fuck, look at that.”
“God you’re so beautiful.”
“Taking me so good baby.”
“Fuck, should have done this ages ago. Look so pretty around me.”
“Hngh, ‘Toru,” you mewled. “I’m gonna c-cum,” you begged, squeezing your eyes shut and arching closer to him to chase your high.
“As you wish.” Something snapped in him, slamming into you at an unbearable speed, balls smacking your ass as he kept shoving into you. You tried to make out words to tell him you were about to reach your limit, but you were too fucked out to form anything coherent, just a string of cute sounds of pleasure leaving your pretty mouth. “Cum f’me.”
His simple command had you nearly scream as the sweet release washed over you, head pushing back into your pillow as he gave you the most intense orgasm you could remember. He fucked you through your high, feeling your body pressed against his until he too reached his climax, filling you with cum, a loud groan left him before his thrusts became lazy and sloppy.
He pulled out, collapsing on the bed beside you. You both turned to look at each other, instantly making eye contact. Whatever flashed between you caused you both to break into a calm laughter. Once it died down, your flipped to lay on your side and rested your chin on his shoulders.
“Should have known you’re quite a talker during sex, it adds up.”
“Is this complaining I hear?” He taunted, pinching his eyebrows together to challenge your statement. “Because the way you just moaned my name like a slut-“
“Okay, fine, I’ll sush,” you laughed before hiding your face in the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Carefully he nudged his shoulder to have you look at him again, needing to take in your flushed face after it all, eyes roaming every part of it. “So what happens now?” You breathed softly as your finger began to trace weak circles on his still damp chest.
Without thinking, he tilted your head up and placed an affectionate kiss on your forehead. “I know I don’t wanna waste anymore time not being with you.”
“We really screwed up there, huh?” As his secure arms wrapped around you to have you as close to him as possible, his chest vibrated with a low chuckle.
“Not my fault you were out and about, throwing your phone number at your customers.”
“Oh alright, if you wanna blame previous conquests, then there’s-“ he instantly placed his large hand over your mouth to muffle the list of girl names you could remember him being with.
“Still such a brat-“ you interrupted his insult by defending yourself the only way you could, sticking out your tongue to lick all over his palm. Before you even had the chance to understand what was going on, it backfired when he instantly rubbed his hand all over your face, smearing your spit.
“Satoru,” you squealed before you both fell into a fit of laughter again.
Well into the night, you just talked and laughed. Sharing every single moment from your friendship that might have been pent of feelings for each other, realising this was how it always should have been. Neither of you had to hold back on the affection or affirmation anymore in fear of jeopardising what you already had. If anything, the relation you already shared only seemed to further ignite what would come to be.
For the first time, you fell asleep in his arms, being his.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were twenty-seven years old when life was just perfect.
“But pretty please!” Nobara complained, hands pressed together in prayer, close to falling to her knees to beg you to do her this small favour. It earned her an offended frown from both her classmates standing on each side of her. “It’s a testosterone nightmare.”
Before you were able to give her any form of response, two lean arms came lurking around your waist to spin you around, drawing bubbly giggles from your lips.
“My god, Satoru, we’re at work!” You managed to force out between your joy, eventually feeling your feet planted safely on the ground again. He lazily rested his arm across your shoulders, towering over the group with a content smile on his face.
“Sorry, just got excited.” He placed a small peck on the crown of your head, sprinkling a tint of pretty pink on your cheeks.
Over and over you’d told him to keep his devotion to you on the down-low in public, especially in front of the students but he never managed to follow the simple request, having the two of you act like love sick teenagers. And as much as you pretended not to, you melted as much at his antics now as you did way back when, rarely putting up much of a fight to actually tone down his behaviour.
Looking at the three first years in front of you, both Nobara and Megumi had a hint of disgust at the sight of how mushy Satoru got with you, always having a desire to be in contact with you one way or another. Yuji, on the other hand, always admired the sheer transparency of the relationship.
“So what’d I miss?”
“Nobara want me to give her private lessons because she’s sick of you boys.”
“Young miss Kugisaki, dare I say I’m disappointed?” Satoru said, acting overly dramatic, sporting pinched eyebrows to have them believe he was actually hurt.
“Gojo-sensei, I have reason to believe I’ll learn even more having a female teacher,” she pouted.
“Ouch,” he breathed in response.
“You’ll tough it out,” you chuckled, a small thank you whispered from the tall man pressed against your side before you opened your mouth again. “I mean, think about how I have it. At least you’re only linked to him during school hours while I live with the guy. I can never catch a break-“
A grunt escaped you as the arm draped around you tensed up, pulling you into a strong headlock. Endless laughter leaving you as you so desperately tried to pull out of his grip but to to prevail, cheek smushed against his ribs.
“Can you guys believe it?” Satoru gasped before carefully pulling up his blindfolds slightly to reveal one of his eyes to look directly down at you. “My own wife?”
“‘Toru!” He just smiled down at you at the happy sounds from your beautiful mouth, also amused by your weak attempt to break free from his hold on you, messing up your hair as you desperately tried to pull your head back.
“You’re both insufferable,” Megumi rolled his eyes, just wanting to go on with his day.
“All I’ve done for you over the years, and still you find it in you to talk to me like that,” shaking his head in faux disappointment. You were finally able to pop your head out from his grip, not at all due to the fact that he intentionally loosened his hold on you a little. A low chuckle rumbling at the sight of your pouty lip hidden behind your bristly hair.
Pushing it out of your eyes, you clicked your tongue as you turned your attention to his students again. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”
“I’ll have you know, I’m their favourite teacher,” he said proudly, shoving his hands in his pockets, leaning forward a little to me on the same level as you.
“Isn’t much competition when you’re their only teacher.”
“You’re feisty today. Get up in the wrong side of the bed this morning?”
“No, I think it might have something to do with you hogging the covers all night.”
The bickering continued, bickering only possible to come from two people who’d been best friends for decades, eventually causing the three friends to walk away with either of you noticing.
“Wipe of that grin, sir, or you’re sleeping on the couch,” you threatened, nothing but pure amusement in your tone. His fingers found your face, squeezing your soft cheeks together, causing your sweet lips to stick forward looking more than inviting. A low giggle once again harboured deep in your throat, trying your best not to let them spill.
His face came closer — oh how he still managed to have the butterflies go crazy inside after all these years never seized to amaze you, feeling the alluring look through his blindfolds.
“We both know you’d come crawling into my arms after an a hour,” he teased, close enough to your puckered lips for you to feel his warm breath.
“Nuh uh-“ was all you were able to muffle out between his fingers.
“Damn, I love you,” he spoke softly before planting a kiss on your mouth, unable to hold back the smirk that grew when his grip changed to a tender cup of your cheek.
Sometimes it baffled you how you both managed to be so incredibly, deeply and stupidly in love with each other. You’d think after all those years with so much devotion and admiration shared, you would have grown tired of each other by now.
But you guessed it helped to be best friends with the person you’d chosen to be with for the rest of your life.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
a/n hehe this is long... this is basically a love letter to gojo after 261, where i had my heart absolutely shattered like most of us yk. ive been super motivated to write it tho so just last week i had 30 hours screentime on my notes app lol... now, ive said it before and ill say it again, i am NOT a smut writer (clearly). personally, thats the part here i like the least bc i just feel like i cant get it to flow naturally... besides that hope you guys like this
reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated
plagiarism not authorized
#— ଓ my creative corner#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru imagine#satoru gojo imagine#satoru oneshot#satoru gojo oneshot#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu gojo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jjk satoru#jjk satoru gojo#satoru gojo/reader#jjk imagine#jjk imagines#gojo satoru x reader#jjk oneshot#jujutsu kaisen onehsot#jujutsu kaisen imagines#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x y/n#jujutsu kaisen oneshot#gojo
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Happily Ever After
──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
summary | How the Yandere!HOTD characters would react after being told by your father that they cannot marry you
warnings | Smut, mentions of pregnancy, yandere behavior, public sex, violence, mentions of death and sword fights
this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter
divider by @princessbellecerise
Jacaerys Velaryon
Prince Jacaerys grows desperate upon being told he cannot marry you
The usual level-headed and reasonable Prince that people are used to seeing quickly goes out of the window and is replaced by a man desperate to do anything to have you
Not having you by his side was not part of his plan, and it’s simply not an option
Jace absolutely refuses to have anyone else as his partner, and he’ll be damned if you marry anyone but him
After being told no by your father, Jace begins to spiral
Anyone can see that the Prince is clearly not happy, and his behavior starts to become panicked and irrational
Rhaenyra tells him to let it go; to let you go but she doesn’t understand. How can Jace let you go when you’re everything he’s ever wanted?
He tells, no begs your father to reconsider, tells him that he can’t imagine spending his life with anyone else but you
Jace tries to get him to see just how in love the two of are, but unfortunately your father still tells him no. And it’s nothing against Jace, he reassures the prince, but it’s just that—much to everyone’s surprise—your father has already made arrangements to betroth you to someone else
You of course have absolutely no knowledge of this, and you’re stunned when your father apologizes to Jace but it’s still a big, fat no
He sends you both away and tells you not to ask again because everything is final. And even when you burst into tears, begging your mother to not let him do this, your father doesn’t budge
“This alliance is vital for our House, Y/N. I’m sorry, but you will not be marrying the Prince.”
That night, you go to bed absolutely devastated and of course, you want nothing more than for Jace to comfort you. You wish to sneak out and go to his chambers like you normally do, but your father is smarter than you anticipated
As if he knew exactly what you intended to do, he asks Rhaenyra to place a royal guard at your door
No one is allowed in and no one is allowed out, which makes your plan of seeing Jace impossible
You beg and you plead, but the guard does not budge. He simply tells you go back to bed and alas, you do not see Jacaerys that night. Or any night after that
It seems that your father is intentionally keeping you away from the prince, whisking you away every time he tries to approach or arranging your schedule so that you do not run into him
Additionally, there seems to be a guard present for every little thing you do, so sneaking away isn’t an option
If you do so happen to even see Jace, it’s only through fleeting glances and the lack of contact begins to drive you both insane
You can’t stand being away from one another and time is running out. The only reason your family is in King’s Landing is because your father was there for business, but soon he will be finished and you’ll have to go back to your homeland. Without Jace, to marry someone else
The sheer thought of it gives you anxiety, but you’ve exhausted your pleas and by now you know that your father won’t listen
There’s nothing you or Jace can do to change his mind—or at least, that’s what you think
Two days before you’re supposed to leave though, a sudden knock on the door shocks you. When you open it, you’re expecting it to be one of your family members, but nothing—absolutely nothing—prepares you to see Jace standing on the other side; the guard knocked out, Jace’s fist bloody, and a wild look in his brown eyes
When you ask him what the hell happened, Jace responds by telling you that he can’t live without you, and that he was willing to do whatever it took to make you his
He couldn’t let you leave without doing something, and so that night, the prince takes you in every position that he can think of. Missionary, doggy style, against the wall, on the balcony
Anything to breed your pretty little cunt, anything to make sure that his seed takes
Jace hates it, he hates breaking the rules and as heir he knows what he’s doing is wrong
He knows that impregnating you while not being married could potential ruin him, you, and his mother. He knows how the greens would react to a bastard having a bastard, but he’s so afraid of losing you that he doesn’t care
Jace risks everything that night just to make sure that you stay by his side; and it works
A few days later, you still end up leaving with your family but on the journey back home you pray to the Gods that your plan works
You pray that Jacaerys’ seed takes root in your womb and to your utter excitement, you prayers come true
A few short weeks after returning home, you notice that your moon blood hasn’t come and you start to get sick nearly every morning
You’re barely well enough to attend any meetings with your so-called ‘betrothed,’ and it doesn’t take long for someone to catch onto your symptoms
When your maids discover what’s going on, they immediately tell your mother, who in turn tells your furious father
When you finally break the news, you swear that you had never seen him get so angry before. Had your mother not been holding him back, you were sure that he would’ve strangled you where you stood
Alas though, as much as he wanted to wring your neck he knew that harming the future Queen of Westeros would not be a wise decision
After all, there were no doubts about who the father of your unborn child was, and as soon as the news broke your father had furiously written to Rhaenyra and informed her of the situation
As soon you arrived in King’s Landing, you were all but thrown into a wedding gown, modified to fit over your stomach of course
But either way, you and Jace get exactly what you want—the opportunity to spend forever together, and six moons later, a healthy, chunky baby that just so happens to be born three moons sooner than anyone expected
Aegon Targaryen
Aegon is angry when your father tells him no
And it’s not just because of the rejection, it’s also because he knows—Aegon knows that the only reason he says no is because your father doesn’t think he’s good enough for you
In fact, your father flat-out tells him this, and to make things even worse, your father declares that you’ll marry his brother instead—the responsible, honorable Aemond
Like hell Aegon would ever let that happen
You are the one thing Aegon has that Aemond doesn’t. Someone to love and genuinely care for him, and Aegon isn’t going to let that go so easily
He has half a mind to draw his sword and kill your father on the spot for even suggesting such a vile idea, but you beg him not to. Despite heavily disagreeing with your father’s decision, you tell Aegon that there’s other ways to get him to change his mind that doesn’t involve bloodshed
Surprisingly, Aegon listens to you but you should’ve known it was only because he had already thought of something worse
You didn’t know it, but when Aegon lures you into his chambers the next day, he’s come up with a plan
He knows exactly how to get your father to change his mind, and his plan starts the moment he has you naked
Unfortunately, it’s not the first time you and Aegon have fucked so bedsheets are no use to him. No, your lover has to get a bit more creative than that
Somehow, Aegon convinces you to try something new and you end up bent over the Prince’s balcony as he fucks you from behind, his cock driving in and out of your slick cunt
It’s the middle of the day and what you’re doing is beyond risky, not only because you’re not married, but also because literally anyone could look up and see the two of you
You see, the Prince’s balcony just so happened to overlook the training yard, and though it was empty at the moment, Aegon knew exactly when it got crowded
All he had to do was wait for his chance, fucking you so good that you didn’t even grasp the situation
You were none the wiser as to what was happening, eyes closed as you basked in the pleasure. You moaned his name and clenched around his cock, feeling a familiar pinch in your stomach
Just as you reached your peak, you began to hear shouting from below
Startled gasps and a few screams had your eyes flying open, Aegon smirking as you caught the attention of at least twenty people—one of whom was your father
He stood, horrified as the prince locked eyes with him. Seemingly taunting him as he rutted into you, moaning and still fucking you against the railing
Aegon swore that he had never came so hard in his life—expect maybe on your wedding night less two days later, the memory of your father’s face and the satisfaction of getting what he wanted fueling what he calls, “The best fuck of his goddamn life.”
Daemon Targaryen
Daemon is amused upon being told no
He’s amused and it’s because he never really asked for permission in the first place. It was more like…a courtesy warning, and he only did it because he knew you were too scared to tell your father yourself
After all, the Rouge Prince has a reputation and it’s not exactly squeaky clean. Daemon’s track record with his wives is why your father said no, but he should’ve known that no isn’t in Daemon Targaryen’s vocabulary
In fact, Daemon merely laughs in your father’s face, declaring that the two of you will be married in a fortnight, regardless of what your father says
Show up or don’t, Daemon doesn’t care—but you will be his wife
And of course, your father protests, appalled that the prince is so bold
He even goes as far as to complain to the King, but Viserys is old and weak. There’s seldom that he can do to fight Daemon anymore except threaten to exile him again, but Daemon isn’t afraid of punishment
He’ll gladly leave the hell hole that’s King’s Landing, but he makes it clear that if he does, Westeros will never see him or you again
He relays this threat to your father, and in his desperation to keep you away from the Prince, your father all but flees in the middle of the night. Making sure that no one except those loyal to your House know where he’s taking you
Despite your protests and your attempts to alert Daemon, you’re dragged on a boat and shipped off to a far away land, one where your father hopes the Prince will never find you
He even goes so far as to change your hair and make up a fake identity for you, but he was a fool to think that he could ever cross Daemon Targaryen
If the Prince wasn’t annoyed with your father before, then Daemon is most certainly furious when he learns that he’s all but kidnapped you
He sets to work on finding you almost immediately, and he swears once he does he’ll kill anyone that helped with this ridiculous scheme
He starts his search by fiercely questioning all of the guards and servants that were tending to you. And because he’s Daemon Targaryen, it doesn’t take long to get the answers he’s looking for
With one look at Caraxes, the so-called men that were loyal to your house end up folding pretty quickly. Daemon has them all but fighting each other to give up your location, though unfortunately their honesty isn’t enough to spare their lives
In his pursuit to get where you are, Daemon leaves a trail of bodies
He kills anyone that he suspects of helping your father, though his rage won’t be satisfied until he confronts the man himself
And what do you know—your father truly is a fool of a man because it turns out that he took you to Pentos. Pentos, the land where Daemon Targaryen lived for years
Why he thought that was a good idea, no one knows. Perhaps he thought that hiding you in plain sight would be enough to fool Daemon, but unfortunately the rouge Prince is much too smart for that
And due to all of the connections Daemon has in the city (and his dragon) it takes him less than a week to locate you
He finds you hiding just on the outskirts of the city, in some rundown village. You look miserable as you chat with some of the locals, hatching your own plans to escape and somehow get back to Daemon
Your father was asleep in the house that you shared, though the beat of Caraxes’ wings are enough to alert you both, your father waking up and running outside just as Daemon lands in front of you
The Prince wears a smirk of triumph as he dismounts his dragon, taking in your father’s horrified face and laughing
He enjoys the moment almost as much as he enjoys the way you immediately run to you, ignoring your father’s protests and shouts to come back
It’s obvious who you choose by the way you hang onto Daemon, hiding behind him while Caraxes roars
There’s a moment where everything seems to stand still, and Daemon drinks in his moment of victory before slowly gesturing you towards his dragon, helping you mount
As you climb onto the red beast, Daemon slipping in the saddle behind you, the last thing your father sees is the smirk that adorns Daemon’s face
Lilac eyes with with his own, and then, Prince’s lips utter a single word
“Dracarys.”
Lucerys Velaryon
Poor Luke is devastated when your father rejects his proposal
It took all he had to muster up the courage to even ask, and now he’s crushed that he won’t be able to marry the love his life
Not only that, Luke genuinely cannot see himself with anyone else. You’re it for him, and he’s determined to be with you no matter what
Call it young love or maybe just sheer stupidity, but one night Luke sneaks into your chambers and hatches a plan
He tells you that there’s a way for you to be together, a way for you to have your happy ending after all. All you have to do is come with him, and he’ll take you to a place where no one, including your father, can come between you two ever again
And that night, when you flee with the Prince on the back of Arrax, it almost feels like a fairytale. You’ve never felt more alive than you did as you watched the Red Keep disappear into the night
With your heart beating as fast as Arrax’s wings, you and Luke run away, neither of you thinking of the consequences, or caring
You’re just so happy to be together that everything else falls into the background. Caught up in your own bliss, you and Luke flee to Essos where the Prince has arranged for you to be married
Like he promised, no one is there to object or to stop you from becoming one. They’re all too busy in King’s Landing looking for you both, your mother distraught and your father wondering what happened to his youngest child
Likewise, Rhaneyra nearly collapses when she finds out that Luke is missing, but Daemon reassures her he’ll be back. He doesn’t know when, he tells her, but he has a sneaking suspicion that when he does you’ll be in tow
And what do you know—four moons go by and it turns out that Daemon was right. You and Luke return to King’s Landing after all, and upon arrival you’re greeted by your weeping mother and your
concerned father
They both have so many questions—where have you been, what happened, why did you run away?
And everyone is so focused on questioning you, so relieved that the Prince isn’t dead after all, that they almost miss the glaringly obvious bump that’s concealed behind your blue dress
Almost
You try to hide it as best as you can, but when your father pulls you in for a hug you know that he can feel it. The horrified expression he wears when he pulls away confirms this. And when you back away, placing a loving hand over your stomach and settling into Luke’s arms, that is when he also takes note of the matching Velaryon pins on your clothes
“We have something to announce,” Luke tells his mother excitedly
You both share a loving look, and Rhaneyra’s eyes are ready to pop out of her skull when Luke places a hand over your stomach and grins
“Y/N is with child.”
Aemond Targaryen
Aemond takes your father’s words as a challenge
Despite how irritated he is at being flat-out rejected, he decides not to lash out or show any emotion really
For Aemond, keeping a level head is important. It allows him to plan, to strategize like he’s always been taught and to be able to stay one step ahead
He supposes he’s just like his grandfather in a way, and it’s obvious that your father underestimates just how far Aemond is willing to go for you
The first man that your father agrees to betroth you to only lasts about five minutes in the duel Aemond challenges him to
The second fairs a little better, though not by much. By the third, your father is furious and it’s become a game for Aemond to see how fast his opponent can last before they ultimately meet their maker
He wears a smirk the entire time he’s fighting, easily ducking and dodging and occasionally striking which wounds the man heavily. It’s obvious that he’s going to win, again, and the sobs and screams from the Lord’s family are hard to miss
They sit next to you in the crowd that surrounds him and Aemond, and every time Aemond lands a blow your father flinches, muttering under his breath how it was a mistake to ever let you meet that man
You on the other are ecstatic, occasionally locking eyes with Aemond and sending him encouraging smiles
You pray after each duel that your father will finally change his mind and allow you to marry Aemond, but it’s not until after the fourth duel does he agree
After a particularly bloody and grueling fight, there are no more proposals. Every Lord that had ever considered asking for your hand is now too terrified to even speak to you, and with the lack of marriage offers your father has no choice but to admit defeat
He agrees to marry you to Aemond, and of course, Aemond feels victorious. He smugly thanks your father for his reconsideration, shaking his hand and promising that he won’t be regretting his decision
#hotd#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#house of the dragon smut#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon smut#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen smut#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen#daemon targaryen#daemon targeryen x reader#daemon targaryen smut#lucerys velaryon#lucerys velaryon x reader#lucerys velaryon smut#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#yandere#yandere!hotd#yandere house of the dragon
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Slick Surfaces
Theodore Nott x Reader
Summary: Your first date with the hockey player ends up back at the ice rink and things seem to get a little slippery, not that you or Theo are complaining. This is my hockey!theo series. If you haven’t already, head over to the first part!
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, modern AU, pro hockey au, hockey!theo, nipple play, teasing, oral, pussy eating, masturbation, mutual orgasm, praising, dirty talk, semi-public, Theo being the munch he is
"Come on, you'll see…" Theo held a sly grin on his chiseled face, leading you into the empty ice rink. The dim lighting casts a dark and romantic ambiance over the vast space. You two had just finished a dinner date and Theo had surprisingly brought you to the arena. Why are we here?
Following him, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty lingered within you. "Seriously, why are we here?" You asked through a cute giggle, scanning the space around.
Your voices echoed around the rink, he was leading you up the stairs of the bleachers, the chilliness evoking something between you both. “I’m going to show you…Just how fun hockey can be…” Your heart skipped a beat, was this going to lead to something?
Theo continued walking you toward the top of the bleachers, his smirk growing wider as he guided you onto the highest tier. "See…" His ocean blues met with yours while he gestured towards the ice. "…just the two of us…In the rink…No one around to interrupt us…"
It was obvious Theo was hinting at something more but fuck. You didn’t mind it. Not in the least. The date you two had together was absolutely perfect. Better than you could have even imagined.
“You’re right…just us two…” Whispering back to him, you could hear the sultry tone dripping out with ease. Theo reached out and took your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours before scooting closer to you.
Not many people would think that a hockey arena could be romantic…sexy… but Theo did. In fact, bringing a girl here and ravishing her was a fantasy he always had. He just had to play his cards right…”You have the most beautiful eyes, Tesoro…” He husked, his face growing closer to yours.
At this point, you swore you could hear your heart pounding in your damn head. “You really think so?” Theo’s gaze flickered between your own, that same sly grin twitching on his lips.
“Oh, I know so…”
A low and deep growl rolled smoothly from his lips. His Italian accent seeming more prominent. But he didn’t hesitate any longer. Theo had been holding off the whole date. —Which was extremely difficult in the first place.
His free hand cupped your cheek roughly before smashing his soft lips to yours. Fuck. “Cazzo- Your lips…so fuckin’ soft.” Murmuring between the kiss, his tongue teased the crease of your lips, practically begging for an entrance.
“F-fuck” The softest little whimpers escaped your throat while the steamy kiss deepened into an intense make-out. Theo’s needy cock was rock fucking hard already, your panties a dampened mess.
Snaking his hand from your cheek, he wrapped it within your silky smooth locks, pressing you closer to him. But the other hand? It remained locked with yours. Feeling his thumb slowly grazing over your soft flesh. “You taste fuckin’ divine, bambina…”
The foreign pet name skated from his lips, both of your breathing getting heavier as the sensual yet rough make-out session only seemed to escalate. Theodore slowly began to lay you back against the cold metal bleacher.
“As do you, Theo…” your voice breathy and light, Theo could already smell the arousal wafting all around you. Only kicking his animalistic instincts into overdrive. His lips sloppily trailed down from your own. Across your cheek…
“Let…”
His hungry kisses fell from your cheek to your jawline. Taking his tongue and dragging it from the end of your lobe all the way down to your chin.
“…Me…”
A shiver ran down your spine, goosebumps pricking down your body as he swiftly dropped his mouth to the side of your neck. Sucking and teasing your sensitive skin. Surely leaving little love bites on his journey.
“…Taste…”
Soft moans were now freely spilling from your swollen lips, tilting your head to the side, giving Theodore better access to you. Your hair sprawled across the grey metal. He licked down to your collarbone, his free hand reaching up to grab one of your breasts, firmly massaging it as he groaned from the feeling.
“…All of you-“
Those dead eyes of his seemed to grow darker by the second, staring up at you as the hand that once locked with yours rubbed up and down your thigh. Waiting for your answer, knowing this could be risky.
“Please…gods- please fucking taste me.” Aching, begging Theo for more, you could see the smirk growing wider on his face. The dim lighting of the rink casting an orange glow across his features.
“That’s my girl.” Those words made your stomach do a backflip. His girl. Fuck. With that, Theodore yanked down your V-neck. Your lace bra on display but he quickly dug your tits right out. His mouth fell all over them, eagerly finding your swollen and perked nipples.
Trying to keep quiet for the low chance someone would walk into the rink at this hour, your back arched while your fingers playfully tugged at his brown waves.
You could feel his tongue flicking one nipple while his fingers twisted and tugged on the other. “Be loud for me, bambina…” He husked against your tits, now letting your moans naturally flow out.
Theo started to do a sucking motion with his mouth, your nipple swelling up as the pleasure began to bubble within you. No words could be made out, simply just taking in all the hockey player had to offer you. His. You were his tonight. And no one would stop him from devouring you. No one.
He sat up for a moment, looking down at the sloppy hickies plastered all over those perfect tits of yours. A prideful yet dangerous grin painted over his face before he took both hands, flapping up your mini skirt. “W-what are you-“
Your words cut off the second Theo softly dragged his pointer finger down your soaked lace panties. “Needy are we?” —God. Fuck yes I am. Your body shuddered beneath him at the tease. Feeling his fingers creeping over the side of the material.
“-Little bit…”
Cooing out, you couldn’t help but softly laugh at your own words. It was clear as day that you were a fucking wet mess for Theo. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, taunting you with his devilish stare.
“Only a little bit….huh, Tesoro?” Smirking down at you, his eyes never left yours. His jaw clenched momentarily just as he ripped your panties to the side so roughly that the material tore, the sound rippling around you both.
Theodore’s gaze dropped to your leaky little slit, glistening on full display for the player. His brows furrowed while his lips parted. Weakly falling to his knees as if he was in a trance from your pussy. —He was.
“Okay…Maybe a lot a bit.” Another seductive giggle freed from you, spreading your legs apart for him. The way he admired you, melted for you, had you going fucking wild.
“Cazzo…You have such a pretty pussy…”
Breathing his thoughts aloud, he let his slick fingers tease down your wet cunt. Seeing just how turned on he had gotten you. The compliment was swirling in your mind, feeling your ego get a major boost from it. “Do I now?”
Bucking your hips toward him, you let your own hands squeeze your breast together, his bottom lip dropping more. “-Fuck yes.” Speaking so quickly, he was aching to taste you. All of you. With ease, he threw his team hoodie right off, handing it to you.
“Here…For your head. want you to be comfortable and relaxed, Bella.” Smirking, he watched as you took the hoodie. His thick cologne still wafting around it. Feeling the apples of your cheeks flush, as dirty and raunchy as this moment was he still had a sweet side. A soft spot for you.
Laying the hoodie underneath your head, Theo nodded in approval. “Thank you, you’re-“ Again, you had gotten cut off, your body going into a euphoric shock.
Slapping your thighs even further apart, Theo immediately buried his face between your legs. Hearing a pleasurable groan mumble through your warmed core. “Fuck!—“ You cried out, feeling his tongue vastly dance around your swollen little bud.
God, he was fucking good. Already so fucking good. “Just as I expected…” Theodore trailed off, swirling his tongue teasingly around your clit purposefully.
“…You taste fucking delectable…deliziosa-“ He growled into your soaked flesh, finally flicking his tongue slowly across your clit. His stare burned up into yours. Watching your every reaction. Hearing those loud moans of yours was giving him all of the confirmation.
Progressively, he licked faster, snaking one of his hands down to his jeans to unzip them, pulling out his throbbing cock. “Fuckin’ Hell…”
The groan that guttered from his lungs, along with his bicep muscle flexing like crazy, you knew he was pleasing himself, getting off to eating you out. “Gods— That’s fuckin’ hot”
Whining out through your loud moans, your hand gripped tighter in his hair. Theo quickly took your other hand in his, interlocking your fingers together as he pressed his face further into you.
“That’s it, Tesoro…Use your words…Tell me how good it feels...How much I turn you on”
Speaking through his laps, his tongue was twisting and swirling in unimaginable ways. Little did you know, Theodore was spelling his name with his tongue. Over and over again. “I-it’s so good! Fuck— You’re so good!”
The sounds of Theo’s hand slapping up and down his massive length were only fueling your arousal. With each praise you gave him, the faster he seemed to go.
“—Mmmm” Theo was absolutely slurping you up, his lips suctioned right around your clit, keeping them parted ever so slightly so his tongue could flick with great speed. Sending your body in a vortex of desire and ecstasy. “Just like that- Fuck, Theo!”
Your moans were now turning into screams, his hand stroking up his precum-covered cock even faster than before. But never once did he remove that darkened ocean gaze from you. Taking you all in.
Sucking a tad bit harder on your little bud, you could feel your legs start to tremble, the pleasure dripping over the edge. But not just for you. For Theo too. “Finish with me, bambina-“ He spoke into your drenched folds, squeezing the hand he was holding as he jerked himself off faster and faster.
“Yes!- Yes!- Fuck!” Throwing your head back, your thighs closed against his head, heaven washing over you.
An earth-shattering orgasm hit you, feeling your wetness squirt out onto Theo’s tongue. At the same exact time, Theo’s groans rumbled against your drenched flesh, his seed spilling out all over his hand while he quivered from his own orgasm.
But he didn’t stop. No. His tongue lapped up your sweet nectar. Drinking all of your delicious juices up as if he had just walked through a desert and was quenching his thirst.
“T-Theo! Fuck— I-I’m so sensitive! Please-“
Your entire body convulsed while he munched down on you, slowing his pace and his tongue moving in longer strokes. A deep chuckle heard from him, he was loving this. The sensitivity he had given you. Reaching his cum covered hand to your mouth, he finally pulled away for a moment.
“Open, Bella.” A demanding tone released as he spoke. You didn’t even think about it. Wrapping your lips around his smeared fingers, tasting his sticky seed.
Watching as you bobbed your head up and down his fingers seductively he could hardly contain it. “Such a good girl…Cazzo…you’re too fuckin’ sexy.” Through a growl, he smacked down a few messy kisses along your thighs. “I can’t believe we just did that…”
You whispered, biting back a giggle, the afterglow starting to hit you as you let out a happy sigh. Theodore was about to reply when suddenly a loud boom of the main doors opening and closing was heard, followed by a few distanced voices.
“Fuck! Come on!” He whispered in a panic while he helped you put yourself together, shoving his cum covered cock back in his pants. Grabbing your hand, Theo led you over to the other side of the bleachers, careful to not get caught by whoever had roamed into the brisk rink.
Both of you getting a rush of adrenaline, but even through that rush, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Even through the anxious feelings. You knew the fun had only just begun.
Pt.2 hehehehe Theo just LOVES munching on us in every au Istg, @amiableness had the best idea and I love watching it slowly come to life🥹 Next part maaaay contain some locker room fun for a little good luck 👀
Love my smut sluts, as always asks and requests are open💋
Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙
#theodore nott#theo nott#theo nott smut#theodore nott smut#theo nott x reader#theo nott x you#theodore nott x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin#harry potter fandom#theo nott smutt#theo nott drabble#theo nott fic#theo nott fanfiction#theo nott imagine#theo nott x fem!reader#theo nott x y/n#theodore nott fic#theodore x reader#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott drabble#theodorenott#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott smutt#theodore nott x fem!reader#theodore nott x you#slytherin boys smut#hockey!theo#theonott#theonott smut
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Merry Christmas, Baby
Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree
Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)
Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader
Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺
A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!
Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist
“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.”
“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.”
There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist.
“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.”
“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep.
After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity.
Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December.
It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls.
“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.”
“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.”
“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders.
“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.”
Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks.
“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?”
“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-”
“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face.
It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.
“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern.
“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion.
“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.”
You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind.
For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.
“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.”
“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?”
It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip.
“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.”
“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him.
“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.”
Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on.
Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for.
“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response.
“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.”
It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough.
“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.”
Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet.
“Javi, we can go upstairs and-”
“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.”
Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family.
“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.”
“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull.
“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.”
Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters.
“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin.
It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him.
Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one.
“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you.
“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.
Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him.
Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand.
“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs.
“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him.
You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours.
“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded.
“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame.
If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him.
“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.”
You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest.
“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way.
Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves.
“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths.
“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.”
You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you.
“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!”
It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath.
“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high.
The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you.
“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.”
“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest.
“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.”
“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns.
“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.”
“Oh my god, you are the worst.”
The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents.
“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw.
“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.”
“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”
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#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal character#narcos fanfiction#javier peña narcos#javi pena#javi peña x reader#javier pena#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fic#javier pena fluff#javier pena imagine#javier pena narcos#javier pena smut#javier pena x f!reader#javier pena x female reader#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier peña#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña smut#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña imagine#pedro pascal narcos#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedro pascal fanfic
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Birb in a box Part 14
masterpost
By Thursday Danny was feeling much more human, or at least closer to human as he ever felt. Had tonight been anything more active than sitting in a seat and watching a ballet, Danny would have had to beg off. He figured this much he could manage. Besides, pushing it a little so not as to disappoint Cass on her big night was worth it. She was a sweet girl and Danny had the feeling that she could use more people celebrating her.
Not that Danny expected to actually see Cass that night beyond her time on the stage.
Still, Danny figured he should at least look the part of a ballet patron and dug the cobalt blue suit that he had gotten for Jazz’s wedding out of its bag in the back of his closet. He might as well be presentable, even if his hair never quite behaved. He kept it much shorter now, mostly so that it was out of the way, and hoped that tonight a shower and some hair gel would be enough. At least the little start shaped sapphire studs Tucker and Sam had gotten him for passing his dissertation looked good. (Bless his piercings never seeming to close fully up.)
A quick pat of his coat pockets to make sure he had everything and Danny was off. Gotham was thankfully quiet that night— or as quiet as Gotham ever was— and Danny even managed to catch an earlier connecting train. It left him enough time for a leisurely walk to the the opera house.
The lobby of the grand building was buzzing with excited patrons that Danny did his best to slip through. He really just wanted to find his seat. Which was apparently was upstairs and all the way down a hall that became narrower than expected as he continued. There was another ticket check, which Danny thought as odd until he realized as he passed by an open curtain that these were the theater’s box seats.
Which was odd.
Danny glanced down at his phone. Was he in the wrong place?
“Ah, Danny, I see you found us alright.”
Apparently not, because that was definitely Bruce Wayne’s voice. Yep, and that was Bruce Wayne himself, looking far too handsome in a deep grey suit. Danny really hoped he wasn’t blushing because damn did the man cut a dashing figure. A little part of Danny wanted to reach out and run his fingers across one of those impressively broad shoulders.
“I did,” Danny said, head ducked down slightly as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “Though honestly, I didn’t expect this to be what you meant when you offered to get the ticket for me. I don’t mean to intrude on your family.”
Bruce chuckled and Danny felt he might melt a little. “Nonsense. It will be a relief to have another adult around.”
“Hey, some of us are adults!” Someone from in the booth said. A moment later Dick Grayson appeared with a large smile and wearing a suit that was the brightest magenta that Danny had ever seen.
“That remains to be seen,” Bruce said dryly, though his mouth was quirked in a smile.
His son ignored him.
“Hi, I’m Dick Grayson, Bruce’s oldest and totally an adult,” Dick said, offering his hand. “Bruce was practically a teen dad when he adopted me.”
“Please don’t spread rumors like that,” Bruce said with the long suffering sigh of a tired father.
“Luckily, I think it’s all pretty easy to fact check,” Danny said before he thought better of it and shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you Dick, I’m Danny Fenton.”
“It’s good to meet you. I think Cass really liked meeting someone who could sign with her just out in the wild.”
“I just wish I wasn’t so rusty,” Danny said, feeling mildly embarrassed at the praise over his poor skills. “I’ll have to brush up on some things.”
“I’m sure that would mean a lot to her,” Bruce replied. “The family knows how to sign, of course, but sadly she isn’t so lucky mostly places. It’s nice for her to have others to talk to on days where her voice isn’t around.”
“I can only imagine. I wish that it was taught in schools. You’d think with all the advancement and proof of concept with baby sign language they would—” He cut himself off with a flustered little laugh. “Sorry, my sister is a behavioral psychiatrist with a two year old daughter. I get to hear a lot about things like baby sign language and color perception and the stages of personality growth.”
Luckily Bruce just laughed and motioned for Danny to enter the box. “A stage I’ve sadly missed with all my children. So your sister is another doctor Fenton in the family?”
“Fourth, actually. Both my parents are also Doctor Fentons. It’s five if you count my sister-in-law, but she kept her last name for publication reasons. I guess you looked me up if you know about my phd?” Danny wasn’t offended at that. If he had a daughter who befriended a random older man at work, he would sure as hell look them up too.
Bruce, however, smiled apologetically. “I asked Lucius about you. You’ve made quite an impression on him. He’s promised to have my head on a platter if I, or my horde of children, do anything to drive you away.”
Danny laughed at that and gratefully sunk into the seat that Bruce indicated. He was starting to feel the walk here now. “Knowing Lucius, he’d get it too. I think he always gets his way eventually, at least if my work-life balance has anything to say about it.”
“Not good at that?” Dick asked.
He sat down catty-corner to Danny. Danny turned carefully to look at him, ignoring the twinge in his back as best as he could. Danny would have shrugged if he thought he could have.
“Classic engineer with ADHD problems. I can lose track of time a little too easily.” Danny glanced to Bruce with a wry little smile. “Apparently WE is big on us not spending all our time at work.”
“Not really,” Bruce said with a little quirked smile. “You all work hard, but work shouldn’t be everything. It’s something that I’ve had to learn myself.”
“No kidding,” Dick said.
Bruce gave a little snort. “As if you aren’t as bad as I am.”
Dick just smiled serenely at his father before turning back to Danny. “No one for you to go home to then? No partner or pets?”
“Just too many plants,” Danny admitted. “One of my oldest friends is a botanist doing medical research and every time I see her I end up with another one. They’ve sort of taken over my apartment now that I’ve been in one place for a few years. Some of them are drama queens about getting watered, but I have a little system rigged up for the really thirsty ones. It helps if I need to be away for more than a day or two. And that is probably way more about my plants than you needed or wanted to know. Sorry.”
Bruce’s low rumble of a chuckle felt like it settled warmly in Danny’s chest. There was no way that he wasn’t blushing a least a bit now.
Why was Bruce affecting him so much? Yes, it had been a rather long time since Danny had been on a date much less more. Yes, Bruce was Gotham’s eternal most handsome bachelor, which wow does the city have that right. Yes, other than a handshake, Danny hadn’t touched another human since waking up in the still so weird cuddle pile of superheroes. Yes to all that, but really, Danny should not be blushing like a he was still in his twenties at a chuckle.
“It sounds to me like your friend picked the right person to give plants to. It’s obvious that you care for them,” Bruce said with a soft smile that Danny tried not to look at.
Danny glanced out over the edge of the balcony and down into the crowd. “Ah, well, I try. They’re living things, you know? They deserve the best chance I can reasonably give them.”
“A very nice way to look at it. I—”
“Shit,” Dick said suddenly, softly, and with conviction.
Danny twisted around quickly to look back at Dick, wincing as his back vehemently protested the motion.
“Sorry,” Dick said quickly. “It’s just that it seems the elevator is down so Babs won’t be able to make it up here.”
“It’s down?” Bruce asked with a confused frown.
“Apparently. I’m going to go sit down on the ground floor with her,” Dick said. He tucked his phone into his coat as he stood. “Sorry for bailing on you, Danny. It was nice to meet you.”
“No, go, spare yourself anymore plant talk,” Danny joked at his own expense.
“If any of the others aren’t too settled, I’ll send them up,” Dick said to his father. “But you know how they are.”
“All too well,” Bruce said dryly.
Dick squeezed Bruce’s shoulder and vanished back through the curtain.
---
AN: This part had me real caught up for some reason, but hopefully it's all good (enough) now!
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“You think people ever look at us and wonder why you would be with me?” Rafayel had frozen in place, his hand mid paint stroke as he gazed down at you from his ladder. You’d been curled up on the couch, watching him comfortably while your thoughts took a depressing turn that was anything but comfortable. “No,” he’d said, “absolutely not. No one in their right mind would think that.”
contains: afab reader, edging, rafayel making reader praise themselves, rafayel speaks in hindi, probably ooc and with grammatical errors sorry i wrote this all in like one hour at 10 PM and i was crying for half of it
it's been a while since my own insecurities have actually given me the creative kick to write something like this, so sucks to be insecure i guess, but yay fic!!!!
Insecurity. What a bitch.
It’s life-ruining, at its worst. It makes you look into the mirror and imagine even the reflection looking back and sneering at what it sees. It makes your heart pound as you walk in public, wondering how many people would smile once they get the privilege of losing sight of you. It makes you sob at night when you’re alone, mind knowing that there is no one in the world who is uniquely terrible, but your heart convinced that you’re the exception.
It makes you say something, accidentally, to your boyfriend.
“You think people ever look at us and wonder why you would be with me?”
Rafayel had frozen in place, his hand mid paint stroke as he gazed down at you from his ladder. You’d been curled up on the couch, watching him comfortably while your thoughts took a depressing turn that was anything but comfortable.
“No,” he’d said, “absolutely not. No one in their right mind would think that.”
If you’d been more acute in the moment, you might have heard the warning in his voice, the irk of a god who has just had his most precious jewel taunted.
But you’d continued instead. “They would. You’re so handsome, so gorgeous. Ethereal. Not to mention incredibly talented. And I love you, and I think we’re really compatible personality wise, but looks…you have to admit you could do a lot better.”
It was then you’d began to note how it felt much hotter in the studio than it had a few minutes ago. Like there was an unseen furnace, prickling with an angry fire about to grow into an inferno.
Rafayel’s voice had been, ironically, icy. “How could I do better than you?”
“C’mon, be real, Raf.” It had been hard to keep the pain out of your words, and impossible to keep the thoughts choking you inside. You’d started to plead, some part of you convinced that it would help if he would simply agree that your every insecurity was valid. “I’m not a supermodel. I’m not a genius. I’m not an angel, either. There’s nothing about me that’s extraordinary. Not like you are.”
And then he’d moved.
And now, you’re still on the couch, crying out brokenly with nothing to grip onto, as his hand holds your wrists above your head, and his cock thrusts in and out of you in the most maddening pace you’ve ever experienced.
He’s never been like this. When you plead, Rafayel gives in. He is weak to you, as he’s shown time and time again. But not today. No matter how much you beg with teary eyes for him to go faster, he shakes his head, slowing down even more. With a punishing growl, he pushes all the way in, and all the way out, leaving your drooling cunt clenching around nothing.
It’s torture. Pure and simple.
“What was it you said?” he breathes harshly, leaning down to press hot kisses on your neck that burn so perfectly you sob. “Ethereal? Talented? A supermodel?”
“Rafayel,” you gasp. He ignores it. His eyes are a violent shade of purple, the most dangerous you’ve ever seen them. There are scales blooming all over his body, as though denying you is the key to awake this dormant side of him, to make you submit.
“I’ll give you what you want,” he whispers, biting and leaving a fresh bruise planted on your skin. “Just tell me what I want to hear. Go on.”
He pulls out and you feel the tears running down your cheeks.
“Say, ‘I’m beautiful.’”
In.
“Say, ‘I’m gorgeous.’”
Out.
“Say, “I’m fucking ethereal.’”
You can taste salt from your own sobs, both from being denied, and from the unimaginable cruelty of having to praise yourself. It’s impossible. You want the reward so bad, but you can’t claw your way to it, because the rules are too imposing. The conditions, blinding.
“Be real,” he taunts, repeating your own words back to you, “come on, start easy. ‘I’m pretty.’ Go on.”
Heaving in a breath, you taste the bitter words on your tongue. “I-I’m pretty.”
Your back arches off the couch as he rewards you with his fingers on your clit, rubbing soft circles while he’s inside you. “Mmhm. You are. And?”
“Please, Rafayel.” You’re clenching so tight around him, and you can see from how he shudders that it pains him just as much as it pains you, this wait, this little game of keep-away. “Please don’t make me—“
You’re cut off by his hand cupping your cheeks, and his lips stealing a salty, breathless kiss. “Meri pyaari gurya,” he groans, kissing you again, “meri chand.” Kiss. “Meri humsafar.” Kiss. “Mine, mine, mine.” Kiss, kiss, kiss. "Do you think I keep anything that isn’t worthy of the Sea God?”
You shut your eyes, crying harder. The logic is loud, but your thoughts are louder. He’s only saying it to reassure you, he’s only saying it to be nice, he’s only saying it because he pities you…
“Meri dulhaniya,” he saves for last, because he knows it’ll break you, “I have nowhere to be. I’m fine staying buried inside you, all day and all night, while your sweet little pussy gushes for me. I’ll bring you to the brink, again and again, but I won’t let you cum, my pretty muse, because either you admit that you’re the most beautiful human in this world, or I’ll fuck it into you till you forget otherwise.”
Trembling, you open your eyes. There is nothing but conviction in his gaze. Conviction, and hunger.
And you realize two very important things. One, that your stamina is nothing compared to his, and you will never hold out against him, and two, that is not something one does out of pity, but out of unyielding, undying adoration.
“I’m,” you swallow, cheeks burning, “beautiful.”
A sharp thrust of his hips makes you moan his name, mouth falling open as he kisses you deeply, and you swear you can feel him hardening even more inside you.
“I’m gorgeous.”
“Yes,” Rafayel hisses, fingers rubbing your clit to match his thrusts.
Eyes rolling back, you cry out, “I-I’m…”
“Fucking ethereal,” he provides, and you think you can feel fire flicking from his lips on your cheeks.
“Fucking ethereal,” you whine, pulling him into a kiss this time.
His hips slam against yours and you cry out against his mouth as his tongue ravages yours. There is nothing Rafayel hates more than someone misunderstanding his art, least of all the art itself.
Your toes curl and your nerves are electrified, everything fading away except you and Rafayel, and his cock and his fingers and his lips, and the couch he’s pounding you into, and you tug at his hair and practically scream as you cum.
He’s still softly licking at your lips as you come down from your high, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. The air escaping you is light, and for the first time in a long time, there is nothing stuck in your chest, a soft fluttery feeling replacing the heaviness that you’ve been carrying what feels like your whole life.
Gazing back up your lover, you cradle his face, noticing that his lovely purple hues have morphed into an even lovelier pink, only a second before you notice he hasn’t cum yet.
“That’s a good start,” Rafayel whispers, capturing your lower lip between his teeth and tugging.
It bounces back into place for him to kiss softly, before he continues, “Now, let’s try ‘most beautiful human in the world.’ If you get there, I might consider letting you have a break.”
#love and deepspace#rafayel x reader#rafayel smut#lads smut#l&ds#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel x mc#rafayel#valkyrie stories
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thinking about konig asking to eat you out and you being like “lol no i’m on my period.” and he’s all “ohhhh idc idc i wanna eat it so bad 🥺” and you need to be like no. buddy. you clearly do not get it. i am not a 2-3 day period, “who needs pads i’ll just freebleed” girlie. i am a 7-8 day, heavy flow, bleed through the pad girlie, lmfao.
and then he eats it anyways because not only has he been around so much more blood than you could ever imagine but also he’s lowkey highkey into it teeeheeeeeeee ;P
"Schatzen, I kill people for money. You really think I'm scared of a little blood?" You wasn't nervous of the fact he wasn't scared of a bit of blood - even though it was not, in fact, just a little. Even though it was, in fact, a lot and made you ask him to bring you newer pads. You didn't really think he would be scared of a bit of period blood - but you were fucking terrified at the fact that he seemed to adore it. To cherish every drop, till the last one - to press his face between your thighs and look at you like a kitten who wants a bit of cream. The thing is, Konig missed you. Returning from a two month contract only meant he was ready to destroy your pelvis and fuck you for every hour he is on leave - unfortunately, he can't quite do that, you're too fragile to take his cock four times per day...but you can take his tongue. Even if that means having the metallic taste cling to his tongue for days on end, he would gladly spend the whole week buried in your cunt, relishing in your taste. It's a nice way to deal with cramps, he might think. Konig literally read one article about how orgasms can sometimes help some people with their cramps, and he'd use this for the rest of his life. Oh, your stomach is hurting and you feel like your womb is trying to eat you from the inside? Just let him eat you out! No matter how many times you push him away and beg for him to stop, he'd still laugh and push his tongue deeper, over and over. He is a mercenary, he is getting paid tons of money to cover himself in blood of his victims - having his pretty girlfriend cry and cum on his tongue is a nice addition. You don't even question it when he starts to track your periods, knowing you'd have it even when you forget - you don't question the dates he literally keeps posted on your shared calendar, don't care that the amount of heating pads in the house had largely diminished - and he won't buy you a new one because he is much better at being a heating pad anyway!
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Aphrodite of Formula 1
Yn had never imagined working as Toto’s personal assistant would put her in the spotlight. Her days were filled with managing schedules, coordinating meetings, and ensuring the smooth running of the Mercedes team. She loved her job—it was busy yet calm, a perfect balance for her. But what she didn’t realize was how much her presence had captivated the entire Formula 1 paddock.
She was beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t just her looks. Yn was gentle, intelligent, and kindhearted, with an easygoing demeanor that made her magnetic to everyone she met. Her ability to handle pressure while keeping a warm smile never went unnoticed—especially by the drivers.
---
Charles and Alexandra
Charles leaned against the wall of the Mercedes hospitality, watching Yn chat animatedly with Toto. His lips curved into a soft smile as he took in her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with genuine interest in every conversation.
Alexandra stood nearby, fuming. “I don’t get it,” she muttered under her breath.
“What’s that?” Charles asked, not looking at her.
Alexandra crossed her arms. “What’s so special about her? She’s just… Toto’s assistant.”
Charles finally turned to face her, his smile gone. “Don’t talk about Yn like that.” His tone was sharp, protective.
Alexandra blinked in surprise. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just saying—”
“She’s kind, she’s smart, and she doesn’t need to try. She’s perfect just the way she is. She isnt.tge one.getting jealous about every tiny thing. And to be honest, she is a better person than you will ever be. At least she doesn't use me for fame and my name. She would never be a gold digger and has never done anything to you. You are the one acting fragile and shy, while we both know you are just jealous. Yn has always been a sweetheart to you and i wont let you talk liek that to her.” Charles said firmly.
Alexandra felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She had tried everything to mimic Yn’s effortless grace, from her style to her mannerisms, but it only made her feel more inadequate. The problem was that she didn't have Yn big heart and good soul.
Charles sighed and walked away, disappointed to call her his girlfriend, leaving Alexandra standing there, humiliated. Her cheeks were a deep shade of red. Some people nearby were giving her dirty looks. She glanced back at Yn, who was now walking towards the drivers’ paddock, blissfully unaware of the tension she had caused.
---
Carlos and Rebecca
Rebecca wasn’t blind. She could see the way Carlos’s eyes followed Yn every time she entered the room. He would light up like a kid in a candy store, his usually suave demeanor crumbling into something boyish and endearing. Sometimes, he would even beg his cousin to take a picture of Yn, just so he could see her every day. She was his wallpaper on his phone after all.
“Carlos,” Rebecca said one evening as they sat in their hotel room.
“Hmm?” he murmured distractedly, scrolling through his phone, looking at Yn Instagram. Oh, how he wished to be there right now. He was the one sending her flowers every week, paying her rent, and sending her random gifts.
“You’re in love with Yn, aren’t you?”
Carlos froze, his thumb hovering over the screen. “What? No! I mean… she’s great, but—”
Rebecca laughed softly, cutting him off. “It’s okay. I get it.”
Carlos looked at her, guilt written all over his face. “Rebecca, I—”
She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t blame you. Yn is… amazing.” Her voice softened as she spoke.
Rebecca’s thoughts drifted for a moment, imagining herself with Yn, walking down an aisle, just the two of them in some intimate, fairy-tale wedding. She could see it in front of her, their beach house in Malibu. They would go shopping every day, she would dress Yn in the finest clothes. She could imagine Yn pregnant, carrying their child. She would kiss her breathless, lead her into their bedroom and...
She snapped back to reality and cleared her throat. “I’m not mad. I just wish…”
“Wish what?” Carlos asked cautiously.
Rebecca didn’t answer. Instead, she turned away, her mind swirling with thoughts of Yn’s gentle smile. Oh, how she wished to finally leave Carlos. She played often with the thought about breaking up with Carlos and running away. Oh, what a beautiful dream, a life without Carlos obsession over Yn, while she obsesses over her.
---
Max and Kelly
Max was leaning against the Red Bull garage, trying—and failing—to look casual as Yn walked by. Kelly noticed the way his entire demeanor changed when Yn was around. It was infuriating.
“Max,” Kelly said sharply.
He tore his gaze away from Yn and looked at Kelly. “What?”
“You’re staring at her again.”
Max frowned. “I wasn’t—”
“You were.” Kelly’s voice was bitter. “You act like she’s the only person in the world when she’s here.”
“She’s nice,” Max said defensively. “And she works hard. What’s wrong with that?”
Kelly scoffed. “You’re obsessed with her. Everyone is.”
Max didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked back towards Yn, who was now chatting with George and Oscar. “It’s not like she’s trying to get anyone’s attention. That’s what makes her… different.”
Better, was what he was thinking. There were so many moments where Max knew Kelly was just using him for his fame and that he could be a father to Penelope. He told everyone the age difference didn't matter, but it did. He felt like he was in a relationship with his own mother.
Kelly’s jealousy bubbled over, but she bit her tongue, knowing any outburst would only make Max more defensive. Oh, how she wanted that little disease called Yn to vanish forever from her life.
---
Oscar and Lily
Oscar was shy by nature, and his crush on Yn only amplified it. He could barely string a sentence together when she was around, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red whenever she smiled at him.
“You should talk to her,” Lily said encouragingly.
Oscar shook his head furiously. “I can’t. What would I even say?”
“Anything! Just be yourself,” Lily said with a laugh. “She’d probably find it adorable.”
Oscar groaned. “Lily, she’s way out of my league.”
“Everyone feels that way about her,” Lily said, rolling her eyes. “But she doesn’t act like it. That’s why everyone loves her. Including me, by the way.”
Oscar’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”
Lily grinned. “What? I can’t appreciate Yn too?”
---
George and Carmen
Carmen adored Yn like a little sister. She often invited her to lunch, bought her small gifts, and even shared personal stories about her relationship with George.
“She’s like family,” Carmen said one evening as she and George prepared for a gala.
George forced a smile, adjusting his tie in the mirror. “Yeah… family.”
Carmen didn’t notice the wistful look in his eyes or the way he always seemed to find excuses to spend more time with Yn. The way he always had to walk up those stairs behind her, to make sure she didn't trip (and to admire her ass). Or his need to always show her how to do every training workout right (imaging her sweaty skin underneath his rough palm for a different scenario)
“You should invite Yn to the gala,” Carmen suggested. “I think she’d enjoy it.”
George’s heart skipped a beat. “You think so?”
“Of course! I’ll text her now,” Carmen said cheerfully. Oh, how excited she was to see her baby again. Her beautiful innocent angle.
George nodded, hiding the turmoil inside. He loved Carmen deeply, but Yn… Yn had a way of making the world seem brighter.
---
Pierre and Kika
Kika and Pierre didn’t hide their admiration for Yn. They often joked about being in a polyamorous relationship with her, though there was a hint of seriousness in their laughter.
“She’s perfect,” Kika said one evening as they lounged in their hotel room.
Pierre grinned. “I know. But don’t get any ideas—she’s mine.”
Kika raised an eyebrow. “Yours? I don’t think so. If anything, she’d pick me.” Deep down, she wished Yn would pick them over anything.
Pierre laughed, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.” Hoping, to one day call this woman their wife.
Despite their playful rivalry, they both knew Yn was oblivious to their feelings—and to everyone else’s, for that matter.
They didn't need to talk about the things they imagined doing with her. If it could just be easier.
---
Yn hummed to herself as she sorted through some paperwork in Toto’s office. She loved the quiet moments when she could focus on her tasks, unaware of the chaos she caused outside her bubble.
When Toto walked in, he raised an eyebrow. “You’re always so calm. It’s impressive, considering how much you have to deal with.”
Yn smiled. “I like keeping busy. It makes the day go by faster.”
Toto chuckled. “You’re something else, Yn. Don’t ever change.”
She didn’t notice the knowing look Toto gave her or the way the drivers seemed to hover outside the door, hoping for a chance to talk to her. To Yn, it was just another day at work—a job she genuinely loved, with people she genuinely cared about.
Little did she know, the entire grid worshipped her.
Part 2. Part 3
#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#f1 x reader#pierre gasly x reader#oscar piastri x reader#max verstappen x reader#george russel x reader#the WAGS know their boyfriends are in love#jealous!alexandra saint mleux#jealous! kelly piquet#lesbian!rebecca donaldson#rebecca would leave carlos for yn
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Trigger warning: topic about SA, aka Im gonna rant about the suitors plan
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So, I’m going to talk about something I actually dislike ALOT in Epic: The Musical. The whole subplot about the suitors wanting to gangrape Penelope. The more I think about it, the more I realize how unnecessary this addition to the story is.
If you removed it, it wouldn’t change the outcomes of the story at all. Odysseus would still kill them. Nothing has ever stopped him before— neither the infant, Polites’ ideology, nor the fact that he willingly led his remaining crew to certain death while always ensuring his own safety above theirs. But somehow, a group of 20-year-olds is the line he can’t cross????? Like, “Oh no, they’re just rude guests, I can’t kill them!🙁” It doesn’t make sense. Odysseus would kill them either way, they don’t need to be wannabe gangrapists to motivate him. It’s entirely in character for him to do so without additional justification.
I understand why Jorge added this to the story, is to raise the stakes. Odysseus has just defeated the personification of ruthlessness itself (Poseidon) by using a fucking jetpack and punching the god really hard. Symbolically, Odysseus has taken the title of “ruthlessness” for himself. So, what can the next threat be that’s stronger and more menacing than Poseidon? Ah yes.... it's the gangrapists /s
For me, it would be more thematically fitting with Odysseus’ ruthless nature to not have a justifiable "motivation" to kill the suitors. Imagine instead if they were portrayed as having the same youthful energy as Telemachus. Like a bunch of rude young men! And then the story could show an adult man brutally murdering a group of young people with no mercy. Then, the song ends with Odysseus seeing Penelope’s horrified face as she looks around the throne room splattered with the blood and gore of her guests. At that moment, Odysseus realizes he’s messed up, putting his biggest fear, which is Penelope rejecting him (something he expresses in Keep Your Friends Close) at risk of becoming a reality. And then, the musical end with Odysseus begging Penelope to accept him despite what he has become. Like what I said, the outcome will still end up in this moment despite with or no sexual violence. I mean, the suitors wanting to kill Telemachus is enough as a motivation. Ody don't really need that much.
I dunno , I think this would hit harder, rather than "Ahh you saved me from the rapist my husband! Thank you!~😍 " "All for you baby girl~~ 😘"
The gangrape plotline only exists to make Odysseus look good for the audience, making him into the good hero who saves the damsel with zero screentime, and reassures that the suitors are antagonists. But it does also puts Penelope in a position where she has to take Odysseus back, or else she risks being seen as “ungrateful” by the audience. I promise you, if Penelope were to reject Odysseus after he saved her from the suitors, most of the fanbase would despise her for it. Of course, that won’t happen, Penelope will accept Odysseus no matter what he does, cuz that is what her characterization is. She is Odysseus' happy ending, if she rejects him then the story wont have a happy ending.
The sexual violence just isn’t necessary. Especially when Jorge went out of his way to make the relationship between Odysseus and Calypso as vague as possible. There’s no explicit statement in the musical that Calypso assaulted Odysseus, and I’m Not Sorry For Loving You is even depicted in a sympathetic light. That was a deliberate choice. So, why remove and downplay the sexual assault from the original story with Calypso, only to add a sexual assault subplot towards Penelope that wasn’t in the original?
It’s unnecessary. Just let Odysseus commit cruel and ruthless deeds without a "good justification" or feeling bad about it afterward for once.
However, the last saga isnt out yet, so there is a possibility that Jorge have rewritten it. I do hope that he removes it, but at this moment, it looks like it will be in there. Welp, maybe he pulls the rug under my feet with a twist or some sort. We can only wait and see!
#Mind you that I love Epic but this is my biggest criticism#one thing that I also dont really like in epic is how Ody always have a reason to be ruthless like there is ALWAYS a justification!#Every single of Ody's foes have always a reason for Ody to act that way - even the sirens#Just let the man be unapologetic ruthless for once!#epic the musical#tw sa#epic the ithaca saga#long rant
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they beg to be taken back, SKZ.
featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )
summary — a reaction of how the stray kids boys realize they can’t live without you, and come to beg you for a second chance!
contents — angst, mentions of fights, possible reconciliation.
bang ♢ chan
bang chan had always been composed, the leader who held everyone together. but when you broke up with him, the cracks in his armor showed. he respected your decision and convinced himself that it was for the best, despite the emptiness growing unbearable.
he wasn’t himself since and the people around him began to notice. the usual spark in his eyes dimmed, and the weight of your absence felt suffocating. he replayed the last argument over and over in his head, agonizing over what he could’ve done differently. but as much as he respected your decision, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to try, just one more time, to fight for what you both had.
it was late when he showed up at your doorstep, his hand hovering over the doorbell. when you answered, you were more than surprised to see him standing there, his shoulders slightly hunched as if he was carrying the weight of the world. his hair was disheveled, eyes rimmed red. he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.
“chan? what are you doing here?” the nickname slipped from your lips almost too easily and you suppressed the urge to recoil. being around him — being his, was too easy. even with the two months apart, one look into his eyes was all it took for everything to come rushing back.
“i… i needed to see you,” he said, his voice trembling slightly and his australian accent slightly thicker, which was a sign of his nervousness. “i know you said that it’s over, but i can’t accept it — not without trying to make things right.”
you felt something in your chest lurch, and for a few moments you were rendered speechless. a large part of you wanted to forget the fight and what lead up to it, but the smaller part of you kept reminding you of how alone he made you feel despite being together. “we’ve already talked about this. you need to let me go. i... i don’t want to go back to feeling the way i did.”
he shook his head, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “i can’t just let you go,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “i know i messed up. i wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, i treated you like another responsibility, and i hate myself for it. but please, give me a chance to prove that i can do better. i can’t lose you like this.”
“chan…” you looked away, your heart breaking at the vulnerability in his voice. your own eyes blurred with tears and you tried to blink them away.
“i know i’m asking a lot,” he continued, taking a tentative step closer. his hands itched with the need to reach out for your waist; the feeling of your skin under his palms a muscle memory. “but i love you. i love you more than anything, and i can’t imagine my life without you in it. tell me what i need to do, and i’ll do it. just… don’t give up on us.”
his desperation was raw and unfiltered, and it was clear that he’d spent every waking moment thinking about this moment. whether you took him back or not, he was determined to fight for you until the very end.
felix ♢
felix was a wreck after the breakup. the ever-present sunshine in his personality dimmed, replaced by a quiet sadness that the others noticed but didn’t know how to fix. he replayed the moments leading up to your decision endlessly, wondering where he went wrong. no matter how hard he tried to respect your choice and acknowledge his mistakes, his heart refused to let it go.
one rainy evening, he found himself standing in the reception office of your workplace while soaked to the bone. he didn’t care that the receptionist was eyeing him in annoyance for dripping on the floors, or that he looked homeless from his red-rimmed eyes and masked face. when you finally made your way down after a call from your superiors, you were shocked.
“felix? what the hell?” you whisper-yelled, your voice laced with concern despite the shock as you grasped his arms to lead him to the bathrooms instead of the ac-blasting reception so he wouldn’t get sick.
“i had to see you,” he said, his voice trembling. both from the cold and his overwhelming feelings. “i couldn’t just… let it end like that.”
you sighed, grasping his freezing hands in yours and holding it under the hot air of the hand drier, not caring that you were in the men’s room. felix couldn’t care less either as he momentarily basked in the feeling of your soft hands in his after so long. “i know i hurt you, and i hate myself for it. but i can’t let you go without telling you how much you mean to me.”
“and you thought this was the smartest way to do it? by getting yourself sick?” you shook your head, trying to keep your emotions in check. he broke your heart, you tried to remind yourself to keep yourself steely. it didn’t work.
“i know i made mistakes,” he continued, his voice breaking as he sniffled and you avoided his gaze and chalked it up to the cold. “i wasn’t there for you the way i should have been. but you… you’re everything to me. you’re the reason i smile, the reason i wake up in the morning. please, tell me how to fix this.”
his vulnerability was heart-wrenching and you felt your own eyes blur through your silence. felix didn’t look away from you the entire time, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “i’ll do anything, anything to make things right. just… don’t walk away from me. from us.”
as the rain continued to pour outside, felix stood there, baring his soul to you. he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness — he was offering every piece of himself, hoping it would be enough to convince you to take him back.
lee ♢ know
lee know was stubborn by nature, and after the breakup, he tried to convince himself he didn’t need anyone. he put on a brave face around the others, burying himself in practice and work. taking on excess time to keep his mind off you worked for a while, but even then every time he went home to the empty silence of his apartment, your absence hit him like a freight train.
his members began to notice his stubbornness and attempt to dismiss your relationship, giving him the space he needed as they hoped he’d work through it. but it began to become clear he was taking the ostrich’s way out — burying his head in the sand and pretending everything was fine.
it took weeks for him to swallow his pride and realize he didn’t want to deal with the emptiness anymore. the fight was so stupid and you were the love of his life, so why weren’t you together right now?
he wasn’t one to beg, but losing you was something he slowly realized he couldn’t bear. and so one evening after heavy contemplation, he found himself standing outside your apartment door, clutching his phone in one hand and a small bouquet of your favorite flowers in the other.
when you opened the door, you paused and your eyes widened in surprise. your treacherous heart missed a beat and you attempted to school your expression to normal. “minho? what are you doing here?”
“i, uh, i needed to see you,” he said, his usual cool demeanor replaced with a hesitance you rarely saw.
your mind flashed with the hurtful words he threw at you during the argument and you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “i thought we agreed that separating was for the best.”
“maybe i thought so at first,” he admitted, his voice soft but firm. “but i don’t think i can do this anymore. i can’t pretend that i’m okay being without you because i’m not.”
“minho…” you started, looking away as you didn’t know what to say.
“i know i don’t say it enough,” he interrupted, his gaze dropping to the ground. “but i love you. i loved you then, and i love you now. and i hate that i let you go without fighting for you. i hate that i was so stupid.”
“you hurt me,” you said, a slight wobble in your voice that you attempted to mask with by clearing your throat softly. but the hurt in your eyes was hard to miss. “i can’t just forget that.”
“i know,” he said, stepping closer. he put the flowers down on the floor by your feet as he took your hands in his, his palms warm. “and i don’t expect you to. but i want to make it up to you. i’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust again. because i mean it when i say i won’t make the same mistakes again.”
he squeezed your palms softly, bringing your fingers up to his lips. “i know i’m not the best at showing how much you mean to me. but you do — more than anything. and if there’s even the smallest part of you that still feels the same way, please… give me another chance.”
it wasn’t easy for lee know to open up like this, but the thought of losing you for good outweighed his fear of vulnerability and hesitance. whether or not you decided to take him back, he was determined to show you just how much you meant to him.
hyun ♢ jin
hyunjin wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but the breakup managed to shatter the carefully built walls around his emotions. he threw himself into his art and practice, hoping it would drown out the ache in his chest. but no matter how many brushstrokes he painted or routines he perfected, nothing could fill the void you’d left behind.
while hoping to take a walk on evening , hyunjin mindlessly ended up walking into your favorite park, the place where you’d spent countless nights talking about dreams and fears. as usual, you were there sitting on the same bench you’d share, a book on your lap but your mind and gaze were elsewhere.
hyunjin stood there for a few moments, unable to look away until your wandering gaze settled on him. you paused, startled to see him there, his usually confident posture replaced by a tentative nervousness as he slowly walked to you.
“hyunjin?” you looked up at him, unsure if you should address him in public since your relationship was over. he was dressed in black, a mask covering the bottom half of his face, but you recognized him immediately.
he hesitated for aa moment before he sat down beside you, a small bittersweet smile tugging at his lips even though you couldn’t see it. “i wasn’t sure you’d be here,” he admitted.
“i didn’t know you’d be here either,” you replied cautiously, fidgeting with your book in your lap. would you have come if you knew? maybe, maybe not.
he took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto you even though you wouldn’t look back at him. “i just... i needed to see you. i can’t keep pretending i’m okay with this when i’m not.”
“hyunjin, we’ve already talked about this…”
“i know,” he interrupted, his voice heavy with emotion. “but i can’t let it end like this. i know i hurt you really bad, and i hate myself for it every day. i thought i was protecting you from this life and me, but all i did was push you away.”
your fingers softly tightened around the book, trying to calm yourself against the raw emotion in his voice. “it’s not that simple.”
“i know it’s not,” he said, scooting slightly closer. he couldn’t take his eyes off you. you were so pretty. “but i love you. i’ve always loved you, even when i was too scared to show it. and if there’s even a small part of you that still cares about me and what we had, then please… let me try to fix this.”
his voice broke as he added, “i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to. just… don’t give up on us. not yet.”
you finally looked up at him and your breath hitched at the proximity. the vulnerability in hyunjin’s eyes was almost too much for you to bear. he wasn’t just asking for forgiveness — he was offering every piece of himself, hoping it would be enough to convince you to give him one last chance. he wouldn’t lose you again.
i.n ♢
jeongin had never experienced heartbreak like this before. the breakup ended up hitting him harder than he ever thought possible. he spent days replaying the fight you both had in his head, wondering how he could’ve done things differently. his hyungs tried their best to cheer him up, but their efforts only seemed to highlight the emptiness he felt without you.
you were his first relationship, his first kiss, his first love and the woman he thought he’d marry some day. he’d questioned his success as an idol, he’d question his talents — but the lifetime of your relationship was one thing he never had to question. so to have that one dream shattered was more than the average heartbreak. jeongin would probably never date again.
only nine days had passed since you left, and after those 200 hours, jeongin couldn’t take it anymore. he knew your schedule in and out, and he knew exactly where you’d be on a weekend evening at 5.
he showed up at your favorite café, the place where you’d spent countless afternoons together and took a seat at the very booth you’d always sit at, counting down the minutes to when you’ll show up.
so when you walked in and spotted him sitting at your usual table, his nervous smile and the familiar warmth in his eyes caught you off guard.
“jeongin?” you asked cautiously as you approached, looking around the almost empty area. “what are you doing here?”
he stood up quickly, his hands fidgeting as he spoke, wanting to reach out to you. “hi. i… i wasn’t sure if you’d come here today, but i had to take the chance.”
you hesitated, unsure of what to say. it had barely been over a week since your breakup. “what do you want?”
“i want to apologize,” he said earnestly, his voice quiet but steady. he had already made up his mind. “and to ask for another chance.”
“jeongin, we already talked about this,” you replied, shaking your head softly. the argument was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t plan to give in anytime soon. yet one look into his puppy-like eyes was all it took. damn.
“i know that,” he said quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush. “but i can’t just let it end the way it did. i know i hurt you, and i know i wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved, but i want to make it right. i need to make it right.”
you sighed, hesitantly sitting down across from him. “it’s not that easy.”
“i know it’s not,” jeongin said, his gaze earnest. he was not going to leave without you. “but i love you. and i’ll do whatever it takes to prove that to you. i’ve been thinking about everything i did wrong, and i promise, i’ll be better. just… don’t shut me out completely. you don’t have to take me back now, but know i’m not going to let this be the end of us.”
his voice softened as he added, “i know i’m asking for a lot, but please… let me show you how much you mean to me. even if it seems a little too late.”
you found yourself softening against your will. jeongin’s sincerity was palpable, and the quiet determination in his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t giving up on you. whether or not you decided to take him back, he was willing to do whatever it took to make amends.
han ♢
han had always been known for his bright energy, and the way he could light up a room with his laughter. but ever since the breakup, his spark was gone and it became glaringly obvious. the jokes came less frequently, and the music he created sounded hollow, even to him. he missed you, missed the comfort of your presence and the way you always seemed to understand him when no one else could.
his group members had tried to give him the time and space he needed, since your relationship was long-term and impactful. you had been by han’s side since before stray kids, and the loss of your presence in his life was something all 7 of them combined couldn’t match up to.
the moment han decided he couldn’t stay away any longer, he abandoned the practice session and rushed straight to your place without even thinking it through. the journey was a blur and his body ran on instinct until he was standing outside your door.
his hands fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie as he rehearsed what he wanted to say for a few minutes before knocking once he was semi-confident of what to say and had plastered a small nervous smile on his lips.
when you opened the door, his smile faltered at the sight of you. “hey,” he said softly, his voice tinged with hesitance, looking over the sight of you in your pajamas.
“han? what are you doing here?” you paused in shock, not expecting his presence out of all things.
“i… i couldn’t stay away,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground. he forgot what he planned to say. “i know i don’t have any right to be here after what happened and what i said, but i needed to talk to you.”
you looked over his sweaty and disheveled appearance as if he ran here, and crossed your arms, looking away. “we already talked, han. what’s left to say?”
“a lot,” he said quickly, his voice trembling slightly — from being out of breath, or from the prospect of losing you, he wasn’t sure. “i know i messed up real bad. i know i didn’t always handle things the way i should’ve, but i can’t —” he paused, swallowing hard. “i can’t lose you.”
you sighed, trying to keep your composure. you knew his words were true. “you realize that now? after all that was said and done?”
“i know what i said,” he said, stepping closer. “but i need you to know how sorry i am. i didn’t realize how much i was taking you for granted until you were gone. and now… now i feel like i’m missing a part of myself. you, and what we had, none of that can ever be replaced. you were the one, and i was so stupid for letting you go like that.”
“han…”
“i’m not asking you to forgive me right now,” he continued, his voice cracking. “but i just want one chance to show you that i can be better. please, just give me that chance. i won’t screw up again.”
his vulnerability was raw and unguarded, and the tears welling up in his eyes mirrored the ache in your chest. his presence only made you realize what you were missing. han wasn’t one to beg, but for you, he’d put his pride aside if it meant that he could win you back.
seung ♢ min
seungmin prided himself on his ability to stay composed, but the breakup had shaken him to his core. he replayed your last conversation over and over, analyzing every word, every tone, trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. the silence in his life without you was deafening, and no amount of logic could convince his heart to move on.
he knew he had no right to approach you or ask for forgiveness after his neglect, but damn was it hard to get past your absence in his daily life. meals, practice and sleeping alone felt void — like a puzzle piece was missing, leaving the actions feeling inadequate.
it took him a month to realize he couldn’t go on without you, weeks to decide how he was going to approach you, and another handful of days to work up the courage and find himself standing outside your door. his heart was pounding in his chest and his hands felt sweaty.
when you opened your front door, you were startled to see seungmin there, his usual calm demeanor replaced with an uncharacteristic hesitance and unease. “seungmin? what are you doing here?”
“i…” he hesitated, his eyes dropping to the floor as he suddenly felt a wave of unpreparedness. “i needed to talk to you.”
you were surprised but crossed your arms and kept your expression guarded, equally as hesitant. “we’ve already said everything that needed to be said. why now?”
“no,” he said firmly, meeting your gaze. a troubled look in his eyes. seungmin wasn’t sure if he felt like crying, or throwing up. “i didn’t say enough. i didn’t fight for you the way i should have, and i can’t let it end like this.”
“seungmin…” you frowned softly
“i know i made mistakes,” he interrupted, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “i know i wasn’t always there for you the way i should’ve been. but i love you. and i can’t just let you walk away without trying to make things right.”
you sighed, looking away. “it’s not that simple. you hurt me.”
“i know,” he said, his voice softening. “and i hate myself for it. but i want to make it up to you. i’ll do whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes. i just need you to give me a chance.”
when you didn’t respond immediately, he took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “i’m not asking you to forget everything. i’m just asking for the chance to prove that i can be better—that i can be the person you deserve.”
the quiet determination in his voice was unlike anything you’d heard from him before. it was clear that seungmin wasn’t just asking for forgiveness—he was willing to fight for you, no matter how long it took.
chang ♢ bin
changbin wasn’t used to feeling helpless, but after the breakup, he felt like his world had been turned upside down. he threw himself into his music, trying to channel his emotions into lyrics, but even that didn’t offer the relief he was hoping for. the studio felt empty without you. his group mates tried to cheer him up, but nothing could replace your touch, the sound of your laugh or the way you’d encourage him after a long day.
it didn’t take long before he realized he couldn’t let you go. your presence couldn’t be replaced by practice or writing, and every heart wrenching feeling being poured into his file of unreleased songs. it had reached a point where he had gotten tired of the separation and ended up impulsively making his way to your apartment one evening.
changbin’s heart was pounding as he worked up the courage to knock, freezing in surprise when you suddenly opened the door in that purple shirt of yours that you always wore to grocery shop. he stared at you quietly for a few moments, watching how your expression shifted from surprise to guardedness.
“changbin? what are you doing here?” you spoke softly, your gaze flickering around the hall to make sure no neighbor was out.
he hesitated, feeling extremely unprepared despite replaying the conversation in his mind the whole ride here, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “i just needed to see you,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.
“bin, we’ve already talked about this,” you began the nickname slipping too easily, but he shook his head.
“no, i need you to listen,” he said, his voice firm but he had to clear his throat to stay composed. “i know i messed up. really bad. i know i didn’t always handle things the way i should’ve, but i can’t lose you. i don’t know how to be without you.”
you sighed, fidgeting slightly as you looked over his disheveled hair and troubled expression. he wouldn’t meet your eyes either. “it’s not that simple, changbin. you can’t just show up after what happened and expect everything to be okay.”
“i know that,” he said, his dark eyes pleading as he ran his palm over his face. he wasn’t one to beg but if he left this without knowing you were his again, he didn’t know what he’d do. “but i’m willing to do whatever it takes to fix this. i’ll change. i’ll be better. just tell me what you need, and i’ll make it happen.”
you looked away, trying to maintain your resolve, but his words slowly chipped away at your defenses. he was the best you’d ever had, until he wasn’t. “why now, changbin? why couldn’t you do this before and how am i supposed to believe you’ve changed?”
“because i was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, looking up at you as he reached out to grasp your hands in his. “i was scared of failing you, or of not being enough. but i realized i’m more scared of losing you forever. i wouldn’t be able to bear that.”
his voice trembled and he nearly found himself in tears, leaning his forehead against yours. “please, give me another chance. let me prove that i can be the person you deserve.”
notes: something about writing sad shit and horny shit really makes me tingle. anybody interested in an individual smut fic?
#skz#stray kids#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz headcanons#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids fanfic#skz fluff#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#skz scenarios#skz fics#skz imagines#skz reactions#skz smut#stray kids smut
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Feel absolutely free to delete this if it makes you uncomfortable but I would like to request human Alastor and a reader with an age gap between them.
Like I mean the reader is of course the age to concent but I like to imagine Alastor (who is canonically in his late thirties/early forties before he died) enjoying hearing reader calling him ‘daddy’ and begging him to put a baby in her.
Again feel free to reject
THINK I NEED SOMEONE OOOLLDDDEEEERRR DUNDUNDUN
Themes: age gap, Alastor is in late 30s, fem!reader, reader is in early 20s, term ‘daddy’ used sexual, slight breeding kink, baby fever, ovulation
Part 2
‘Aint he a bit…old?’
’oh honey the man is practically your father’
’You’re far too young to want to settle with that fossil’
’how do you expect him to raise children?’
’what he couldn’t find a woman his own age? Robbing the cradle ain’t he?’
Sometimes you’re a little wary of letting people meet your husband. Especially when he was 15 years older than you, a mere 23 year old.
Yes Alastor was a bit older than you, but you didn’t mind.
You rather enjoyed having someone who has experienced the world a little and would happily provide for you.
The gossip about the two of you always gnawed at your nerves, but you didn’t care, not when he treated you like a princess.
Alastor gave you any and everything you needed and wanted, so to hell with the whispers.
As of late, you have been having baby fever. You swore your insides tingle when you are engaged with a child. Your ovaries screaming to have a little bundle of your own to care for.
It didn’t help you’re ovulating…and your husband was looking like he would make the best father for your kids.
The two of you were out in town shopping, when you spotted the cutest baby set. You tugged his arm, to gain his attention to the display in the window. “Darlin what is it?” He asked as you excitedly squealed. You turned to him, lips pouty and giving him your best puppy eyes as you pointed to the display “oh can we get it? Pleeeaaassseee baby. C’mon wont you buy it for me?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands dancing lightly along his neck as you pressed your lips to the corner of his.
You knew how to work him that’s for sure.
Alastor hummed tilting his head as he mulled it over. He could never tell you ‘no’, even if it was ridiculous. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip, cock twitching in his trousers as you playfully bit it. “You are a little minx you know that?” He sighed, letting you drag him into the store.
“But why do you want baby clothes dear?” he genuinely asked, looking at the displays on a wall as you wrapped your arms around his waist.
You nipped at his ear, tugging the soft flesh cooing into his ear, voice soft and innocent “Because we're gonna need it when I have your baby. Wont you like that? To put a baby in me? Your baby. I think you’ll make a great Daddy. Dont you think daddy?” You purred making the tall man quickly pay for the clothes and drag you out the store, making you giggle.
——————————————————————————————————
"fuuuck, d-don't stop. Ah!" you moan as his cock rams into your pussy, feeling the stretch. His cock is going deep inside of your body, hitting the spongy nerve over and over, making you gush more around his already slicer-covered cock. Alastor’s fingers find your puffy, throbbing clit and he rubs it n tune with speed of his thrusts. Your eyes roll deep inside of your skull as you let out high pitched moans and whines. For once, Alastor is loud, groaning and cursing at the tightness of your pussy. It’ll never not amaze him that no matter how many times he fucks you, you're always so tight, like you were made just for him.
"gonna cum inside f-fuck baby I’m gonna fill you up so much" he grunts you, kissing your shoulder as he angled his thrusts so he hits your sweet spot. you whine, you're so close, you arched your back to take the impact of his thrust deep into you.
"Oh fuck oo-Oh fuck ah ah ah Ha!f-fuck Al! I-im cumming! Oh god! Yes!" you cry out, toes curling as you push your ass back onto his cock. You mewled as clear liquid squirted out of you and made a mess of the bed. That alone with your cunt fluttering had his cock twitch and his release soon approaches.
"you want my babies? Huh? You gonna let me fuck a baby in you darlin?" he asks you, eyes fixated on his cock disappearing into the creamy mess that was your cunt. You babbled nonsense as your body tries to recover from your orgasm and twitching from overstimulation.
Alastor tugged your hair back, redirecting your attention as his cock slotted into you over and over. “You gotta use you words baby. C’mon what do you want from Daddy?” He grinned feeling your cunt clench.
You sobbed as you felt a finger in your ass, another orgasm raking through you “c-cum. I want your cum inside me. Please! Daddy please put a baby in me! i want to have your babies just please”
Alastor hummed as you cummed again, he laughed "Cant believe I made you cum without my tongue first. But don’t worry, ill give you that too, after I fuck my cum in your pussy. We want it to take don’t we? Yeeeaaa we do. C’mon baby take it take my cum, let me fuck a baby into you.”
A harsh thrust had you see white and he slammed his lips on yours as his hips shuddered against your ass, cock twitching as he emptied his balls into you.
He sighed as he curled you into his chest, cock still buried inside you. He kissed your sweaty forehead, smiling “You’ll make such a beautiful momma baby. I can’t wait to have several little ones running about”
You tilted your head slightly “you want more than one?”
Alastor’s smile deepened “Oh you didn’t think I would stop at just one did you?”
Your cunt fluttered, making him laugh “seems we agree perfectly”
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel fanfiction#jyoongim#alastor x y/n#alastor smut#alastor hazbin hotel#daddy k!nk#human alastor x reader
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Tiny Dots on an Endless Timeline
pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 28.5k summary: "It’s been a few years since you'd passed, dying in one of the earlier Sentinel raids. He watched you die. He watched you beg and plead for him to get everyone to safety as you used your gift to keep the Sentinel’s away. It’s his last memory of you; a memory that makes these missions harder. But the idea that stopping all of this from happening could save you, could give him more time with you, gave him something he too hasn’t felt in a long time: hope."
warnings: slow burn, angst/smut/fluff, pining, grief, death, panic attacks, intimacy, unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, grinding, making out, overstimulation, aftercare
Author’s Note: In this fic, there is some dialogue from the movie used and lyrics from Roberta Flack's "The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face". I do not own the rights to either and they are only used to help the plot of the story.
Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.
[AO3 link]
Abandoned Chinese Temple; Shanxi Province, China; Year 2023
Logan didn’t have any high expectations when it came to missions. He has learned time and time again that every mission in this war creates loss. It seemed like every time they had a chance, that chance was quickly vanquished. He would convince himself for the longest time things will get better. They have to get better. All wars end eventually. It’s just a matter of when and what the casualties will be. But right now, the end is nowhere in sight.
They were safe for now, hiding out in an old temple that has aged and weathered away with the times. Being back with everyone, seeing who is left of them, sits heavy in Logan’s chest. Having people he cared about ripped away like they were nothing, no proper burial or goodbye, aged him like nothing else. While physically he was still in his proper form and shape, mentally he was struggling.
Charles is giving a history lesson on the Sentinels, giving information many of the younger mutants were not fully aware of. Logan is aware of what this is leading up to, a plan Charles and Erik conjured up as a last resort. It’s smart, but even when it seems too good to be true, he must remind himself the same thing: do not have any expectations.
Logan notices Charles is quiet, and everyone’s attention is on Kitty. She had been talking and even though Logan had zoned out for a minute, the look on her face says it all; it’s impossible.
“You have the most powerful brain in the world professor, but the mind can only stretch so far before it snaps. It would rip you apart. I’m sorry.”
The gears in Logan’s head were turning. He doesn’t quite know the limits of his mutation, especially in regard to traveling back in time. However, he has taken multiple bullets and slashes. He has been through some of the worst experimentation imaginable and his body always recovered. If his body could bear all of that, what’s to say he wouldn’t survive going back a few decades?
It’s not long before everyone agrees that Logan going back was the only solution left. Charles and Erik walk him through what needs to be done the minute he wakes up as his younger self. Patience is what Charles keeps telling him, but of course he knows that will be challenging alone. Not to mention all the bullshit they were doing in the early 70s. Bastards.
“I do apologize, Logan. But I have the utmost faith that you can do this.” Charles chuckles, obviously hearing what Logan called them.
“There is nothing left to lose.” Logan sighs.
“But there is plenty to gain.” Charles smiles, the hope on his features stronger than it had been in a long time. “To bring our loved ones home. To bring her home.”
Logan sucks in a breath, holding it for a second before releasing slowly. His hand goes to his neckline, pulling the chain from his suit to look at it and there it was. The engagement ring: a symbol of good things to come that will no longer come to fruition. A lifetime that was stripped away from him, a life with you no more.
It’s been a few years since you’d passed, dying in one of the earlier Sentinel raids. He watched you die. He watched you beg and plead for him to get everyone to safety as you used your gift to keep the Sentinel’s away. It’s his last memory of you; a memory that makes these missions harder. But the idea that stopping all of this from happening could save you, could give him more time with you, gave him something he too hasn’t felt in a long time: hope.
“It’s good to see that spark in your eyes again, Logan.” Charles says.
Logan huffs under his breath. “I guess my emotions are starting to show on my sleeve, huh?”
Charles laughs, before moving on into the other room. “You’ve grown a lot since I’ve first met you, Logan. And I have her to thank.”
Logan looks down with a smile, reminiscing only a little bit. You really were something else.
It isn’t long before he is lying down on the stone table with Kitty explaining everything to him. It all makes sense, but he can’t shake the fact he will be the only one to remember this war: the trauma, the anger, the dread, the grief. Even when this war will have no bearing on the new world he hopes to come back to, he will still live with that pain.
“Alright, Logan. Calm your mind and think peaceful thoughts. This may sting a little.” He can hear the uneasiness in Kitty’s voice, but he is ready. There is no pain he can’t endure.
He closes his eyes and thinks about the happier times. Some of his fondest memories are of him simply waking up to watch the sun rays glide across your body in the morning. How you would curl more into his chest and mumble words with no connection whatsoever. How you would wake up, kiss his chest and keep going until your lips met his. He would always ask you to use your gift in those moments, wanting to hold you just a little longer before the day started. You were his little piece of heaven.
Even as he feels Kitty’s hands beside his head, he thinks maybe before he wakes up, he’ll dream as his mind travels. He’ll dream of better times and that alone would hold him over during the impending pain. Because what he wouldn’t give to have you in his arms again. That’s all he wants.
His hand grips onto the ring attached to his dog tags, holding it close as he prepares to enter a different time full of the unpredictable.
This is for you, baby. I will save you this time.
And with that thought, the hot pain scorches his temples and sets fire to his mind and then he is gone.
The Algonquin Hotel; New York City, NY; Year 1973
Music. Soft, calming music enters his conscience. It greets his mind, carefully shaking him awake. Then there is the sunlight. It is warm against his skin and he can feel it greeting him, telling him it is time to start the day. It all felt too familiar, and he thought he was dreaming. He felt something draped over his neck. It wasn’t heavy but there was a weight to it. He lifted his hand to touch and the moment he felt another hand, he smiled. Yes, I am definitely dreaming because here she is. He brought your dainty hand to his lips, kissing it gently as he intertwined his fingers with yours.
But the moment is short lived as his other senses kick in. He took one inhale and knew immediately something wasn’t right. He turns to lay flat on his back, and he can’t help but curse under his breath. He feels like he is waking up to the pre-walk of shame as he looks at the woman beside him. He recognizes her, someone he had bodyguarded for a period of time and occasionally let her warm his bed. Well, he let her do a lot more than that.
If only he had the foresight to have kept it in his pants.
He sets her arm to her side and attempts to get out of the bed. He feels the water hold him back, and he groans deeply. Whoever invented water beds can fuck off.
He stands to his feet, taking in his surroundings. He recognizes the room and knows he’s in the Algonquin. The room has its signature set up, with its warm tones on the walls and floor, the plant hanging from the ceiling. He’s been in this room before, or at least another copy of it. He sees the mirror between the two windows, and he walks up to see his reflection.
Holy shit…
He looks the same, but the differences are prominent. The gray that was once at the corners of his hair and beard were gone. His head of hair looked fuller and was back to his original brown state. His body didn’t look much different, but he felt rejuvenated. It looked like his body hadn’t endured much. He looks down further and can’t help but smirk. Heh, still got it.
His sights go to the window, and he peeks through the blinds, only to once again let expletives fall quietly from his lips. He knew it had worked, but seeing Times Square without its vast array of screens made him take a step back. There is a strange emotion forming in his chest, and while he can’t describe it, he can tell it’s good.
“Holy shit,” he mutters in awe, taking in all the minute details. “It worked.”
He feels relief, as well as curiosity as he scans the city in its older form. Charles had said he was a very different man during this time. He wonders what he will be walking into, and how he will prepare for the moment where Charles will think he’s full of shit.
But his mind drifts as he looks down onto the street, street musicians on the side playing their instruments for spare change. He remembers you telling him that was something you did for a while with empty storage containers and food bins as makeshift drums… right here in the city.
His heart aches at the thought that you are out there somewhere, living your life day by day like nothing was wrong. You had told him you had a bit of a rebellious streak in the 70s, especially when you were playing music with a bunch of punks most nights and living out of a van. It reminded him a lot of himself, how he would have some kind of gig to make money and then go home to his trashy, beat up trailer.
He always told you how he would have killed to see you in those times, and now that he’s here he’s tempted. Maybe he could leave right now and take a quick peak around the city. He wouldn’t even interact with you. He just wants to see you breathing and alive. He wants to see you living your life to the fullest, even if it pains him to not interfere.
He scoffs at himself, shaking his head and releasing the blind shade. No. He came here to do one thing, and that was to find Charles and Erik. He knows that if he plays his cards right, everything will turn out okay. The mutant population will continue to thrive, his friends will be alive, and you will continue to be by his side. Logan knows good things come to those that wait, so he will wait for you. Even if it fucking sucks to do so.
He goes to put on his pants, deep blue jeans with a big belt buckle, something he wore often. Some things really don’t change, do they?
He finishes covering himself, and the second his belt is strapped into place, he hears the door open. He turns to see three men standing by, talking loudly at the woman to get dressed as they stare him down.
Fuck.
Alleyway off of East 17th Street; New York, NY
“Fuck!”
You shoot up from your van seat, the thumping on the door startling you awake. You groan, holding your head as you blink slowly. You turn and see a cop at your window, signaling for you to roll the glass down. You grab the lever, rotating it slowly before squinting up at the man.
“Ma’am, you cannot park nor sleep here,” he emphasizes, snark laced in his voice. “You need to get moving.”
You see him whip out his ticket book, a quick scribble before he rips it and hands it over to you.
“What? No warning?” You say defensively. “You gotta understand I was drunk last night. No points for not drinking and driving?”
He looks you up and down, grimacing at your attire. “For cretins like you, absolutely not. Unless you want to dispute the ticket in court, pay the fine.” He turns away, no consideration or anything.
You scoff as he turns to leave, and you roll your window up quickly. You watch as he walks away, and you bring your hand up, curling your fingers in. Everything slows down before freezing all together, only to then reverse in swift motion. You watch the cop rework his steps as time turns back, and you keep going until you see him drive back from which he came. You continue to let time go, so you’d have enough of it to get the hell out of the alley, before releasing your fingers. Time slows again and then it goes on like nothing has changed. You glance at the ticket, noting he had filled the ticket out prior before to scaring the daylights out of you.
“Fucking pig,” you jeer, crumbling the ticket up and throwing it to the back.
You start up the van, pulling out of the alley slowly before turning onto the busy street. There was high traffic per usual, people pushing to get to their jobs. You glance at the clock to see it is nine in the morning, and hum at the amount of time you have before your gig tonight. You are tempted to find another place to park, to sleep off the dreadful hangover plaguing your head. You knew taking all those shots the night prior was a terrible idea, but the drinks kept coming after such a good show. It helps too that your mutation keeps everything in check, a fact that makes you grin.
Being able to control time, rhythm and pace come naturally to you. You are always able to keep a perfect tempo and can change it up at your will. While punk music has never been about perfection, it always helps that you can pull everyone back in if things get too out of hand. People tell you you’re a prodigy, but if only they knew. Your bandmates don’t even know, and while you know they would embrace you, you felt it was always better to keep things hidden. Especially since you tend to use your power to save your ass far too often.
You decide to drive to central park, thinking some fresh air would stop your head from pulsing. You make a turn onto 44th Street, wanting to get to the main road for a straight shot to your new location. However, as you drive down, you start to feel strange. Your head was pulsing more, like your mind was trying to break down a door to give you a warning. It becomes borderline painful, and you can’t help but pull over onto the side of the street.
You put your hazards on, opening the door before getting to the sidewalk. You squat down, dry heaving a little as you work to calm your mind down. You shut your eyes, rubbing your temples to ease the ache. And then as quickly as it came, it stopped. Your eyes open, looking around to see you are in front of the Algonquin.
What the fuck?
“I must have really outdone myself last night,” you mutter under your breath, standing up fully to get back into the van.
You get in and go to turn the hazards off, but you stop when you notice a man walking out of the hotel. You watch as he walks with purpose, getting into what looks to be a green 1970 Buick LaSabre. Your brain glitches, trying to process something that doesn’t exist. You don’t know him. You’ve never seen the man before. So why is your brain acting like you do?
You watch him drive off with a screech, and you watch until he is no longer in sight. You stare off into the distance for a minute, thinking what the hell just happened. It was new, and it isn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced. The aftermath settles in your chest with a weird sense of longing and it makes you even more confused.
I definitely drank too much last night.
Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY
Logan knew the peaceful thoughts wouldn’t come easy, but god damn the entire morning has been far from peaceful.
The altercation at the hotel ended with the three men on the floor, dead or alive he wasn’t sure. He could’ve handled it better, but the shock from seeing his old claws and the excruciating pain from the bullets sent him into a frenzy. He had truly forgotten how painful bullets felt when his bones weren’t covered in metal.
Driving from New York City to Westchester didn’t help his mood. He’d rather suffer a thousand stab wounds than drive in traffic and deal with dumbass drivers. The only upside was he had time to think about his approach with Charles, and how he was going to convince him that he was serious. He had a pretty good idea of what he needed to say and was feeling confident. As long as there were no obstacles, he could get this done.
But that all shattered when Hank opened the damn door. He hadn’t even considered his presence, but Hank was a pretty understanding guy. He’d understand, right?
Boy was he wrong.
He definitely underestimated how strong Hank was, especially after seeing him as a younger man. Their tussle had landed him onto the marble table in the center of the foyer and with Hank roaring at him from the chandelier. It was no surprise that the one person who still lives here came out: Charles.
Logan’s first thought after looking at Charles was how much of a bum he appeared to be. He wasn’t one to judge, but to see his mentor in such rough shape was perplexing. It looked like the optimism he always held so close was far gone, which was made clear when he laughed in Logan’s face.
Charles did say he would need to be patient with him, but fuck he was a pain in the ass. Logan understood, as he wasn’t much better when he arrived at the mansion, but if he was this much of an ass as Charles is now, God help him.
At this moment, he was working answers out of Hank, trying to piece something together that would convince Charles that what he was saying is true. Then he heard footsteps from the stairs.
“I’ll help you. I’ll help you get to Raven.”
Which now leaves them all in Charles’s old office, discussing plans on how to retrieve Erik without getting caught. Erik had explained where he was before Logan got here, but now knowing what he did to get there makes this more complicated. Not that it already wasn’t, but it is for certain that his cell will be guarded to hell and back.
Once again, fucking bastards.
“What resources do we have?” Logan asks, hoping that Charles or Hank know someone with an ability to get them in and out.
“Well…” Charles draws out. “I may know one person who could do it, but she will need some convincing. If we can find her, that is.” Charles chuckles, his hand rubbing his face in disbelief.
Hank’s eyes go wide. “You don’t mean…”
“She’s the only person that could pull it off, with her mutation and all.” Charles goes to stand, taking a swig of his whiskey in the process.
“Who is she?” Logan asks curiously, the odd mix of dismay and confidence in their tones intriguing. However, the second he hears your name, he freezes.
“What?” Logan says with uneasiness, something the other two don’t pick up on.
“She was a recruit back when Erik and I were forming a team to fight against Sebastian Shaw.” Charles explains.
“She can control time,” Hank jumps in enthusiastically. “Move it forward, backward, stop it all at once.”
“She left shortly after Cuba,” Charles takes a drink with that. “She said she didn’t want to be at odds with Erik and I.”
“Is there anyone else we could use?” Logan interjects quickly. The idea of seeing you is oh so tempting, but there is a fear that any sort of interaction with you will tear you away from him. To see you is one thing. To interact with you is another.
“There are mutants that can stop time telepathically, but she can do it all, which is why she is our best bet.” Charles adds, waving his hand like he is explaining something complicated. “The only problem is I have no idea where she went. I haven’t seen or heard from her in over a decade.”
Logan can’t help but scrunch his face, biting the inside of his cheek in contemplation. He knows he can’t let his selfishness get in the way of the lives at stake. If you really are the best bet to get Erik out, then so be it.
“Fine, but we just use her to get Erik. After that, she is done.”
“Well, we have to find her first.” Charles shrugs. “I can’t use my powers, so we will need to find an alternative.”
“We have a phone book.” Hank suggests, already walking to the stack of books behind the sofa.
“That is not going to help, but she was in a band around this time right here in New York.” Logan says, looking at Hank as he grabs the phone book. “She was playing gigs most nights in 1973.”
Charles and Hank look at one another, seemingly perplexed by this new knowledge. “How do you know this?” Charles speaks for them both.
“Let’s just say she becomes a protege of sorts for you in the future.” Logan leaves out the rest. This wasn’t the time to get into the details of his relationship. “I know the band name. We can call popular hole in the wall venues around the city to see if her band is playing tonight.”
“I’ll start looking through and making calls,” Hank offers, and sits down at Charles’ desk.
“Let us know if you find anything. The minute we know something, we leave.” Logan says.
Logan leaves before a response is given and goes outside. The sun is bright, surprisingly not too cold for this time of year. He leans against the old brick, taking out a cigar he magically had in his pocket along with a lighter he had snatched off the desk. He cuts the end with his claw, and lets it sink back in as he puts it to his lips. He goes to light, his hand a little shaky but he eventually gets a good burn going, the taste entering pleasantly into his mouth and lungs.
He puffs out some smoke, sighing at how the events of today have turned. He had made the decision not to see you, and now he is going to have to. It’s a double-edged sword; he gets to see the beautiful woman he fell in love with, while also taking the risk of altering his and your future together. So many what if’s: what if something bad happens to you? What if you all get caught and you get sent to prison? What if you somehow realize you don’t like him in this timeline?
What if you die and he can’t save you again?
That thought alone makes him choke a little, lost in so much thought the smoke overwhelmed him. No, he can’t think like that. There is too much on the line for his emotions to play games. Besides, maybe in the end, regardless of if he ends up miserable, you’d wake up in the future safe.
He just wants everyone he loves safe.
Max’s Kansas City Nightclub; Manhattan, NY.
Logan has been to many different nightclubs. Having been a bodyguard for hire, these types of places were nothing out of the ordinary. There were plenty of young women he was hired to watch, ones that wanted to rebel a little, that would come to these clubs to have a taste of freedom. They all had the same shit: drugs, alcohol, sex, and bad decisions.
He was starting to feel the latter.
It isn’t that he disagrees with Charles. Your mutation is powerful and would create easy access to Erik’s hold cell. You are the obvious choice. However, he can’t stop debating with himself on if dragging you into this will change the future; one where you and him are never to be. The thought alone makes his stomach turn.
Along with that, just seeing you in the flesh is enough to send him into disarray. Logan is far from a nervous man, but it has felt like an eternity since he’s seen your face. One look at you and he may not be able to hold it together.
Him and Charles are sitting at the bar, nursing their shitty whisky. It burns the same, and by this time Logan is finishing his fourth glass, waving down the bartender for a fifth.
“Listen,” he hears Charles yell over the loud crowd. “I know you can hold your liquor but you should probably slow down.”
“Trust me, bub,” Logan shoots the fifth round down his throat, swallowing quickly. “You’ll want me as loose as possible for this.”
“What is with you? Is this about her?” Charles nods to the empty stage. “You acted very strange when discussing her today. Were you two close?”
Logan looks down into his glass, his mouth opening and shutting not knowing what to say. It doesn’t matter, however, because before he can make a decision, drums are starting to beat down heavily.
“1, 2, 3, 4!”
Drums start bumping, along with guitar and bass chords. The crowd starts running to the back where the stage is located, jumping and vibrating to the music. Logan looks to the stage, and lo and behold there you are on the drum kit.
Even when you were no longer playing with a group, you played a lot at the mansion. You often taught music classes for students who just wanted to have some fun. It was also your way of releasing some steam. Charles had to soundproof the music room so your constant drum smashing wouldn’t cause a disturbance.
But here you are, keeping perfect tempo as you keep up your rhythm. Seeing you in your element was so much more than he thought. You were an animal on those drums, totally submerged in your performance. You were smiling, interacting with other band members during each song. Whether it be adding vocals, doing theatrics with your drumsticks, or silly banter, you looked like you were meant to be up there.
“She’s really good!” Charles yells over the music, and Logan can only nod. He is immersed in you, his nerves gone as he takes you in. He missed you so badly that seeing you again has given him some grace. He needs to be careful, but right now it doesn’t matter. He just wants to enjoy seeing you happy and alive.
The set goes on for another twenty minutes, the songs short and quick. The crowd was getting more rowdy as the set continued. They were shouting lyrics back, heads rocking and popping as they jumped around. He sees you looking out into the crowd, only for your eyes to meet his own and then to his right. Your eyes went wide, and he turned to see Charles lifting his hand with a small wave.
“Well, the cats out of the bag.” Charles mutters, not leaving eye contact with you.
Logan sees the shock in your features, and can sense you picking up the tempo slightly. Your bandmates didn’t seem to mind, however, as they picked it up as well and the crowd seemed to love it. The last cord plays, and the crowd cheers.
“We’d like to thank y’all for coming. Goodnight!” The vocalist said before the band walked off the small stage. You, on the other hand, didn’t follow.
He watched you make your way through the throngs of people. The look on your face is unclear, but the moment you are in front of him, it’s like it’s just you two.
He fully takes you in. You looked about the same, maybe a little younger. You were wearing jeans with holes at the knees, beat up converse, and a white v-neck that revealed your collarbones quite nicely. A black leather jacket, that has seen better days, pulls it all together. There was a sheen of sweat at your temples, creating a shine in the baby hairs. Logan only had two thoughts in his head: that he desperately wishes he could pull you into his embrace and that you looked so sexy like this.
So incredibly sexy.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” You smirked, hands on your hips.
“I must say this is a pleasant surprise.” Charles laughs, standing up from his seat. “It’s so good to see you, darling.”
“It’s good to see you too, and walking for that matter!” You pulled him in, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek. It makes Logan shift slightly, a little jealousy lingering even though there is nothing he could do about it.
You let Charles go, and you look at Logan, quirking your head as your eyes scan him up and down. He keeps his eyes on you, not budging.
“So Charles, who’s your friend?”
“Ah, yes, well this here is-“
“Logan.”
Logan’s eyes go wide when your hands shoot to your head, gasping as you grip your head. He reaches out, wanting to do something to ease whatever is going on, but as soon as it starts, it stops.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I must have really overdone it with the drinking last night.” You mumbled.
Logan smirks. “A real party animal, huh?”
“More like don’t know when to quit,” you sigh. “So, how did you know that I was playing here tonight? Or better yet, how did you even know I was doing this? Keep tabs on me up there?”
“Actually, Logan mentioned it. He-” Charles starts, but Logan is quick to hit his back, making him double over from the impact.
“What he means is it is a long story, and we should go somewhere else to discuss it.” Logan says with urgency, hoping his tone takes your attention away from how he’s acting.
“Why not talk about it here?” You shrug, going to the bar to order a drink. “The night is still young.”
“This conversation needs to be for your ears only. It is highly confidential.” Charles interjects.
“Hmm,” you don’t look at him, finally getting the bartender’s attention. “Trying to drag me back into some bullshit, Charles?”
“Bullshit that could save everyone’s life, sweetheart.” Logan says. He isn’t used to your slight indifference, but it is something he is going to have to get used to. You are a different person during this time, after all.
You turn back to them, sighing before you lift your hand up, middle finger and thumb pressed together before snapping. Everything stops instantly. Drinks that are being poured freeze. People talking with others go still with mouths open trying to get the next word. The lights stop flickering, some looking to be out while others keep the light.
Time goes still. Except for the three of them.
His eyes go to look at you, where you are wearing a smug look.
“My ears only, right?” You say, lifting your drink like you are cheering for something. “So start talking.”
The Pentagon; Arlington, VA
The Pentagon was incredibly crowded, which was to be expected. Tours were taking place. People were rushing to get to their posts. Security was at each corner of the building. There is a lot of commotion, yet you knew this would be a piece of cake. And yet, you couldn’t believe you had agreed to do this.
When Logan had explained he was from the future, a future where everyone will eventually become slaughtered, it took you aback. It was hard to think about. You knew the U.S. Government has an aversion to mutants, but to create a weapon to wipe them clean with Raven’s DNA? You shouldn’t be surprised, not with everything currently going on, but you are.
The plane ride was fairly quiet. Hank and Charles were in the cockpit, leaving Logan and you in the main lounging area. You had noticed Logan looking at you quite a bit throughout the quick ride. It was like he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. You could’ve sworn you saw something akin to pining in his eyes, but you brushed it off. You didn’t know if it was his way of figuring you out, or if there was something else.
You wondered if you and him are connected somehow. With the headaches coinciding around Logan, you couldn’t help but wonder if your mutation is doing something new, something it couldn’t do before because you have never met a time traveler. Not until now.
Maybe you will get answers later. Right now, you have a job to do.
You are standing in the middle of the Pentagon’s main sector, mentally preparing yourself for this. You would have to hold time for thirty minutes, enough time for Charles and Hank to reach and retrieve Erik from his cell. This only gives them fifteen in and fifteen out.
“Are you sure about this?” You hear Logan say from beside you. “We can find another way if it is going to be too much.”
He sounds so sincere, and it oddly does something for you. Here is a man you don’t know much about caring about your wellbeing. For someone of his apparent nature, it is endearing.
“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate you caring enough to ask.” You smile at him, and the smile he gives back makes your stomach flutter. Just a little bit.
“Alright here goes nothing.” You turn to look at Charles and Hank. “The second everything stops, grab an authorized personnel card off of one of the security guards and go quickly.”
“And you’re sure we are the best people to do this?” Charles mutters, looking torn.
You smirk at him. “Oh, Charles. You may not realize this. but he cares about you. Maybe this is the reunion you need.”
“I doubt it,” he grumbles but nods at you to go on.
You look forward, hands slightly in front of you before snapping your fingers. It isn’t instant like it usually is. It travels, people coming to a stop before everything is completely still and silent. It takes a lot of focus and precision on your part. You’ve never had to freeze an entire building, let alone one that runs so deep.
As told, Charles and Hank make quick work, grabbing a card from a guard right by the door they needed to go through. Once the door shut, it was just you and Logan, who had insisted he stay in case something happens.
You sense his eyes on you again, just as he had on the plane. Minutes pass, and you think maybe he will say something, but no. It’s just radio silence. You could handle it on the plane, but right now? Absolutely not.
You roll your eyes at his behavior. “You psychoanalyzing me or something? I can multitask, you know.”
Logan moves so he is facing you, and he is only two steps away from you. You notice he is much taller than you, maybe by a foot. His attire is oddly fitting for someone from the future. The brown leather, the feather pattern on his shirt, and god the big ass belt buckle with blue jeans that fit his legs so nicely. You had to ask.
“So, if you are from the future, I gotta ask: did you come dressed like that?”
He looks down at what he is wearing, inspecting himself. “What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?”
He looked so self-conscious. It was cute. “Not at all. Just not something I expected someone from the future to wear.”
“Well, technically I am in my younger self’s body. This is how I dressed in 1973.” He chuckles. “I guess I still dressed like this though, before everything went to shit.”
“So, you an old man now or something?”
He smirks at you. “I’m probably older than your great grandfather, sweetheart.”
Your eyes widen at that statement. “Is that your mutation? Being immortal?”
“Amongst other things,” he holds out his hand, and within a blink of an eye claws are coming out from in between his knuckles. You tilt your head in awe, admiring the bones that are tinted yellow. He then lets them sink back in, the wounds healing instantly.
“Regenerative healing. That’s pretty neat,” you say. “Still must hurt though.”
“Every time,” Logan hums. “But you get used to it.”
“I see,” you murmur, not knowing what to say after that. Luckily, Logan keeps going.
“You must practice a lot for you to stop time in a place like this.”
You can’t help the chuckle that slips your lips. “I wouldn’t call it practice. I just get myself into stupid situations.”
Logan grins, taking a step closer to you. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Well, a few weeks ago we got into a tussle with the police. They decided to start some shit at another club we were playing at. Gave me a black eye even.” You answered, oddly making light of the memory.
“Bet you still looked just as pretty,” Logan joked, but with the way he was looking at you, you’d think he was being serious.
“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “But then they started making arrests. That’s when I shifted time back. Warned my bandmates before they came in. They were confused about the black eye though.”
This made Logan laugh, and you swear your heart did a double take. Why was this man affecting me like this?
“I like the idea of you getting a little rough. It’s very different.” Logan purrs, and before you can ask what he means, you feel your powers start to weaken.
“Shit,” you curse, hands clenching in front of you.
“What’s wrong?”
You grunt in response, trying to pull yourself together. “How long has it been since they’ve left? Shouldn’t they be back by now?”
“It’s been about thirty minutes,” he confirms. “You are certain time has stopped in this entire building?”
“I’m very certain. I wouldn’t be struggling right now if it weren’t.” You say with gritted teeth, getting lightheaded. “Logan, I told them thirty minutes. If I hold on any longer, I’ll pass out.”
Logan is looking around, searching for something before he takes off in a path you can’t see. You are breathing heavily, trying hard to focus but you can feel yourself slipping. It’s like you are on a cliff holding onto loose rocks waiting for them to slip.
“Okay look at me, baby.”
Baby?
You look to see he is holding a key card. He holds your attention, nodding to the door Charles and Hank went through. “We are going to walk over to the door. I’m going to open it with this. When I do, let go.”
“Fuck, what if we get caught?” You whimper, the mental pain starting to get stronger.
“I won’t let that happen again.”
Again?
Before you could contemplate his words, he’s got his arm wrapped around your torso. His left hand holds your leather clad wrist, keeping you steady as two start to walk.
“Small steps, small steps. That’s right,” Logan encourages, keeping pace with you as you walk slowly.
He’s holding you gingerly, like you will break if he lets go. It’s strange but you welcome it. You've never had anyone hold you with such care before. You were rough around the edges. Most people think you can handle anything, but it’s almost as if Logan has done this before; a common feeling you’ve had ever since you laid eyes on him.
He stopped at the door, pulling the keycard from his left pocket and scanning it. The light blinks green and he pushes it, keeping it open with his foot as he looks at you.
“You ready?”
You nod slightly. “Just tell me when.”
“Now!”
You immediately drop your hands, and Logan is shoving you through the threshold. You gasp holding onto your chest as Logan keeps his grip on you so you don’t fall. You take a deep breath, calming yourself down enough to keep going.
“We need to get moving. We will get caught if we stay here.”
Logan nods, letting go of you to look at the map beside the door. You miss his touch already.
“We need to get to this elevator,” he points to the elevator in the south wing. “It’ll take us to the kitchen that leads to the lower cell.”
Without another word, you two are running. You put your hands up again, freezing time again but only in the areas you two are passing. It makes your brain fuzzy, but you push on. Logan looks back at you from time to time to check on you, worry evident on his face.
“I’m fine, keep going!” You press.
Before you two know it, you are both at the elevator. Logan is clicking the button repeatedly like it’ll come faster, and within a few seconds it opens. You both rush in there, and Logan repeats his treatment to the closing button before the doors ultimately close.
You lean against the metal wall, taking a deep breath and praying to whatever God is listening that no one gets on this damn elevator. You don’t know if you have it in you to protect you and Logan if someone gets on.
Luck was on your side, however. The elevator dinged, and when you looked up you saw it was listed as the floor you were getting off on. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, but it gets sucked back into your throat when you hear alarms. The elevator doors open and a multitude of men with chef kitchen attire run in completely drenched.
Before either of you get crushed by the masses, you grab Logan’s hand and yank him out. You hear more commotion coming from down the hall, yelling and crashing. You walk past Logan, jogging towards the noise. You make it to the door, hearing the voices loud and clear, and you bust in to see the insanity.
The kitchen was a wreck. The water is still coming as the alarm blares on. You see Hank trying to pull Charles off of Erik, but he won’t budge. Everything is a mess, and something about it sends you spiraling.
“Oh fuck no!”
You are hurling yourself at these men. You grab Charles’s jacket, and with the help of Hank yank him off of Erik. Hank flies to the floor, and you slam Charles to the wall. He looks so pitiful, and it makes you sick.
“I said thirty fucking minutes,” you seethe. “My power has limits, and this is the reason you all pushed them today? Because you couldn’t help yourself?”
Charles is silent, looking at you with complete guilt. Good, you think. He should feel fucking guilty.
“I could have passed out. You are so lucky I had Logan, or your ass would be going to prison.”
You let go of him, shoving him more into the wall as a warning, and turn to the other two knuckleheads. Hank and Erik are standing, looking at you in shock. They are really about to be in shock, however, because you weren’t done.
“You,” you pointed at Hank. “I know you hate your mutation, but your self-hatred almost fucked us all. I know you aren’t that fucking weak, especially to pull his scrawny ass off of that dumbass.”
“Well, it’s good to see you too-” you hear Erik start. You don’t let him finish.
“And you,” you shout, walking up to him and gripping the white prison uniform at the collars. “I know you are probably very shocked to see all of us. However, and understand this clearly, you do as we say. I am not about to have my future or anyone else’s fucked up because of you. You hear me?”
Erik smirks at you. “Yes, ma’am.” God, you wish you could wipe that look off his face.
You huff, shoving him away from you. “Let’s get out before we get caught.”
“It might be too late for that.” You hear Charles say, and you turn to see five Pentagon security members, plastic guns drawn.
“Charles,” Erik calls out. “Do something, Charles.”
“I can’t,” Charles says under his breath.
“Hands up or we will shoot!” One of the security officers yells, their fingers right on the trigger.
You groan at how worthless everyone is acting, and using your anger, you snap your fingers and immediately clench your fists. The cops freeze in place, and you are panting as your muscles suck up all the oxygen in your body.
“Someone better knock them out before I give out and-“ you are cut off by the sound of a pan connecting to skulls.
Logan was knocking these men out with ease, his strength apparent as the metal clangs. He is moving like a natural, arm swinging precisely to hit each man standing. It was captivating and watching him breathing in and out in his drenched clothes was very hot. You could feel your underwear start to cling to you, and you knew it wasn’t just from the water coming from the sprinklers.
You let go, hands going to your knees as you catch your breath once again. Logan is immediately by your side.
“Let’s get out of here,” Logan commands, and he wraps his arms around your torso to sit you straight up.
“I got you, sweetheart. Just hold onto me,” Logan says in a low tone, like talking any louder would disturb the already broken peace.
Without a word, you grip onto him and you two walk out of the kitchen to the elevator. The others are waiting for you two, keeping the elevator open and soon enough you are all in.
It’s amazing to you that you all made it out. Charles was smart enough to know to go through a back exit, and luckily Erik was able to move the cameras to face a different direction. It was as if none of you were ever there, other than the fact those security officers saw you. You’re hoping Logan hit them hard enough for them to forget.
Charles had parked the rental car close by, shoving yourselves in before going off onto the road. You are in the middle in the backseat, with Logan still holding you close. Erik was to you right, working to put on the jacket and hat Charles had brought to make him less recognizable.
Well, less recognizable to fucking idiots maybe.
“Alright, where to now?” Erik asks, still trying to get the jacket on in the packed backseat.
“We need to get her home.” Logan replies.
“What?!” You shout, feeling complete disbelief. “Why am I going home?!”
“Listen, thank you for your help. But this is dangerous, and you shouldn’t get mixed up in it.” Logan continues, his tone a lot more serious than it has been today.
“I just fucking infiltrated the Pentagon and now you are worried about dragging me into this mess?”
Logan is quiet, and you only get more pissed off. Who the hell does he think he is?
You push his arm off of you, twisting your body so you are looking directly at him. “I don’t know if you noticed, but if I weren’t there today, you all would’ve been fucked. I care about what happens, and y’all need me. So, I apologize but I’m fucking coming.”
Logan’s shoulders drooped, his hand going to rub his face. He breathes out, as if he’s trying to calm himself down, before turning to look out the window.
“Fine.”
“Good, so we are in agreement.” You say, before laying back against the middle cushion.
You let your eyes close as the sounds of the cars and bumps of the road lull you to rest. The chill from the water sets in, and subconsciously you find yourself wishing those strong, warm arms that had held you so much today would wrap around you once more.
The Atlantic Ocean
Fucking bastards.
Logan doesn’t understand how Charles and Erik were ever friends. Imagining them as anything but seemed easier. Maybe it’s the full rage of testosterone in their younger bodies. It would explain the extreme yelling, bickering, anger, grief. He understands the need to release all of that, but he already hates flying. Getting the man who can control metal upset isn’t a great idea in an aircraft.
Things eventually calm down, but what’s left is now a mess of broken glass and ceramic. Charles exits the lounge to go to the cockpit, and at the angle Logan is at he can see Charles with his head in his hands. He feels bad truthfully, seeing him so broken down and beaten up isn’t easy. It reminds him a lot of himself. Looking at Erik, who looks like he hadn’t been in a prison for almost a decade, irritates him slightly. But what irritates him more is that he almost crashed the fucking plane.
“So, you were always an asshole.”
As if on cue, he hears the door to the backroom open and you walk out. You are rubbing your eyes, holding onto the wall as your eyes double take on the view.
“Looks like I missed something eventful,” you yawn, walking over to start picking up broken glass.
“Hey, don’t do that. Let him do it,” Logan says, pulling a cigar out and putting it under the lighter’s flame. “He did this. Let him pick this shit up.”
Erik puts his hand up, letting you know he’s got it. As he starts cleaning up, Logan watches you carefully walk over to sit across the table from him. You lean across it, crossing your arms as you leave your eyes on him. “Give him a break. He’s been through a lot.”
Logan looks your way, taking another puff of his cigar. “Yeah, and he could’ve killed us.”
You shrug, leaning back into the seat while keeping eye contact. “Couldn’t have been that bad. I woke up to the plane flying smoothly.”
Logan takes another puff, a grin wanting to desperately pull onto his lips. Still a heavy sleeper.
“I think you just sleep like the dead,” Logan jokes, leaning forward with his elbows settling on the table.
“I guess.” Your head turned to the window, eyes closing and opening in slow succession. “But seriously, what did we expect? They may have similar ideals for mutant kind, but they are different sides of the same coin. I’m sure seeing one another after a whole decade makes it hard to keep everything bottled up.”
Logan nods in agreement because he can relate. When he saw you for the first time after what felt like a lifetime, it took everything in him not to pull you in. Even now, watching you as the light reflects on your face, he wishes he could seat you in his lap like he would after a long day of training. Having his arms around you as you curled into his side, feeling your warmth against him, made everyday worth living.
There was some reprieve when he was helping you after you stretched your powers to your limits, but he longs for you. He longs for your body, your kisses, your comfort, your love. He longs to show you how much you mean to him, to tell you he loves you. It is too much sometimes, especially in the kitchen at the Pentagon. Seeing how aggressive you were and smelling your scent change to something of want is making everything so much harder. He was already so worked up, he could have easily snapped, but he didn’t and it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.
There is a part of him that wishes you weren’t here, so he could finally focus, but in reality he is thankful you chose to stay. He knows it is for selfish reasons, but at the same time he knew they’d be lost without you. You give him the strength to keep going; the strength to push forward, even when it’s painful to keep everything he wants to do and say inside. So, he gets it. He gets it so much.
Logan notices you looking at him, and realizes he was staring. He coughs, trying to hide his embarrassment as he puts the cigar to his lips.
“So, is that why you didn’t join either of them after Cuba?”
Your smile is small, like you were reminiscing. “Both had very good points, and it makes sense why they believe the way that they do. Charles tends to see the best in people and Erik sees the worst.”
“So, you couldn’t pick a side?”
“I was only seventeen at the time,” you say. “I wasn’t about to let two grown men tell me what to do, and I’m glad I didn’t. I’m not their keeper.”
“Smart girl.”
You laugh at this, and it feels like dopamine is being injected into his brain. This is the first time he has felt… Joy? Happiness? He could listen to it for days.
“You said they sent you here together. Do they actually become friends again?”
Logan sends a small smile your way, but shakes his head. “It’s complicated.” And it really is. Logan is sure that if the Sentinel’s never came to be, they would still be at some sort of odds against each other. “Like you said, same coin, different sides.”
“I see,” you start to tap your fingers against the table, a nervous habit Logan had picked up on when you two met the first time. “Since we are talking, you never answered my question.”
Logan lifts an eyebrow in confusion, not realizing anything was asked.
“The other night at Max’s. Charles said you knew where to find me. How did you know?”
Logan only hums, taping his cigar to let the ash pool into the crystal tray. He feels like revealing anything about the future is a bad omen, but his restraint is wearing thin, and he can’t help but relent.
“You told me.”
“So, we know each other in the future?”
Oh, you don’t even know the half of it, sweetheart.
“We do,” Logan breathes out.
You leaned in closer, your jaw in your hands. “Are we friends?”
Not quite. “Sure, yeah. We’re friends.”
“Are we close?” You are smiling big, teeth showing. He missed that smile.
“Very close,” he leans in towards you, faces a few inches apart. “So close that I know everything about you.”
“Yeah?” Your eyes flash. “Like what?”
“Ask me something.” He is feeling cocky now.
“Okay,” you draw out, looking around as you contemplate, before your eyes shine back at him. “What’s my favorite band?”
“They don’t exist yet. Not for another couple of decades.”
“What? Really?” You gasped.
“The genre doesn’t even exist yet,” Logan grinned, seeing you surprised going right to his head. “But right now, it would probably be Velvet Underground.”
“Wow, you’re good.” You compliment. “Okay, how about my favorite color?”
“Really?”
“Should be easy if you know me so well.”
Logan vibrates, loving the back and forth happening between the two of you. “It’s blue. Dark blue especially because you love how the sky looks after the sun has set.”
You look down, and Logan wasn’t having any of that, lifting your chin with one finger. He moves forward just an inch more. “You’re going to have to ask something a little harder, sweetheart.”
You shy away from him, still staying close, a rush of pink added to your cheeks. Fuck, you are so beautiful.
“Okay, well,” you say, still looking away from him. “There is something else I can do with my mutation. What is it that I can do?”
Logan knows this answer far too well. It’s the only reason he was able to be with you as he is, even though he truly believes he would’ve fallen in love with you regardless.
“You can stop yourself from aging.” Logan whispers, not wanting the others to hear. “You use time to stop the clock in your body. You did it for a year after Cuba to try and gain back the time that was lost.”
“I wanted to finish high school, as crazy as that sounds.” You chuckle.
“More like you wanted to continue doing marching band,” Logan says, laughing as you smack his arm.
“Oh God, you must really know me if you know that!” You cackle. “I started aging again after I graduated though.”
“Why is that? Didn’t want to stay seventeen forever?” Logan tries to make light of it, but he knows why. He always knows why.
“Well,” you paused, leaning back into your seat with your hands still on the table. “The war in Vietnam got worse. There were a lot of boys I went to school with that got drafted, and they didn’t make it. If they did, they came back completely altered. Made me realize this isn’t a world worth living in for too long, I guess.”
“I get the feeling,” Logan responds, to which part he isn’t sure.
“And now that I know that the future's so bleaker, is there really a reason to want to keep living for longer than you need to?” You were looking at him so genuinely, and it broke his heart.
He sets his cigar down in the tray and goes to take your hands into his with a squeeze. He looks right at you, hoping what he’s conveying reaches your ears with sincerity and hope. “We can change that tomorrow, and when we do, you will have a reason to keep going.”
The conversation continues for a while, going back to answering questions for you and seeing your face light up when he guesses correctly, and he does every single time. It’s dark out now, the new day counting down to start. Logan can feel himself getting tired, but you? You were dozing off fast with your head against the plane's wall.
“Hey,” Logan reaches over the table, shaking your shoulder. “You should go lay down. We have a long day tomorrow.”
You yawn, stretching your limbs before blinking a few times. “Are you sure? I slept in for most of the day. You should take it.”
“I insist. Besides, I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in here with these bozos.” Logan looks in the direction of Erik and Charles, one sleeping in the chair and the other sprawled on the couch.
“I suppose you’re right, but will you be okay?”
“I’m used to sleeping wherever, so this is nothing. Please, get some sleep.”
Logan watches you get up from your seat, walking over to him before leaning down to his ear. “Goodnight, Logan. Sweet dreams.”
He feels your lips against his cheek, and he inhales sharply. He turns to watch you go into the backroom, and after a long few seconds he releases in an exhale. He puts his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in some poor attempt to calm himself, but his thoughts run fast and there is no stopping them.
He can feel himself close to snapping. It’s like everything you do is calling him in, daring him to do something. He knows it is insane. You don’t know him. If he were to do something, confess everything, what would that do for the future? Everything he says and does can change what the future holds, and a selfish part of him doesn’t care. When it comes to you, he is a selfish bastard.
He leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. Tomorrow is the day things will be set right. When that happens, maybe he will wake up to a world where you are still there. He just needs to hold on a little longer.
Hotel Majestic; Paris, France; Day of the Paris Peace Accords
Getting into the hotel was surprisingly easy. You thought security would’ve been on a high alert, but it was oddly empty. Everyone is able to walk around freely without worry, yet you are still on edge.
You don’t know why, but you’ve had an uneasy feeling ever since the plane landed. You keep relaying it back to nerves, but you know you are lying to yourself. Something isn’t right, and the lack of security here is only making you feel worse.
“Not much security here for a big event like today,” Logan says.
“It’s still a hotel. Anyone can still stay here.” Charles responds. “We still need to be careful though. Stay alert.”
You all make it to the staircase, and you see a map of the hotel. You point to the eastern wing, seeing how the third floor has a section for conference rooms. “Their meeting is most likely happening somewhere here.”
“Okay, let’s get there quick. We are running out of time.” Logan says urgently, and with that everyone is running up the stairs.
Logan is ahead of everyone, and you take notice how much his demeanor changed. He is ultra-focused, his mind only on one thing, and you can’t blame him. You’re sure he is under an insane amount of pressure to ensure he pulls through given the future circumstances. However, you’ve taken notice of how he keeps glancing at you with every chance he gets and it makes you wonder if there isn’t something else going on in that head of his.
Before you can ponder more on it, you hear yelling. You hear things moving harshly and what sounds like bodies hitting the floor. You all take a turn and see a flood of Vietnamese, Russian, and American military personnel running out of a room you can only assume is where your target is: Raven.
You all enter the room, and everything happens so quickly. Raven’s body hits the table, Charles is at her side, and Erik takes the tasers that latched to her body and gets them onto the man to the right of the table.
You hear a rapid beeping and to your left you see a man holding a device, red lines blaring as it goes off. You realize it is Trask, recognizing him from the papers.
You walk up, and before he can probably comprehend what is happening, you snatch the device from his hand. “I’ll take this”
You aren’t scared of him but you back away slowly, ensuring he cannot do anything behind your back. You hear another thump, and turn to see Logan against the wall breathing heavy with eyes screwed tight.
“Logan,” you speak up, walking towards him, but with a few steps in you feel a rush of pain to your head.
You collapse onto the floor, hands holding your head as you start to shake. The pain is sharp and static, forming at the base of your neck and wrapping around your head suffocatingly. You can hear someone calling your name, but it sounds distant.
“Erik…” you hear the fear in Raven’s voice, and with all you can muster you look to see Erik holding a gun. The same one Raven had to kill Trask, now pointed at her head.
Your brain isn’t comprehending anything Erik is saying, but his face is stone cold. Any hope that you were missing something was lost because you knew what he was going to do. It doesn’t take a clear head to see that.
You try to put your hand up, attempting to stop Erik in his tracks. The second your fingers touch his ankle, he kicks it off and places his foot on your wrist. You moan in pain, his weight pressing down enough to bruise.
“I’m sorry, my dear. I’m afraid you are out of commission.” Erik says calmly without taking a peep at you.
Everything happens in slow motion. The pressure is off your wrist, a gun shot sounds, and glass shatters. Your vision is blurry, your head feeling as if it’ll pop off. The people in your vision blur together like paint bleeding in water. Voices are muddled and slow, but loud. You are in agony, and you just want everything to stop.
You start to hear more noise from the other side of the room, and you see Logan’s blurred silhouette on the floor with his back against the wall. His hands clenched in his lap with claws out, breathing rapidly like someone would when they are having a panic attack. You grunt, pushing yourself up on your hands and knees with your jaw clenching tightly as the pain spikes. You crawl towards him with intent, and all you can think is Logan helped you when you were growing weak. He needs someone, and you will help him. Even if it fucking kills you.
“Logan, please say something,” you grit through your teeth, biting back against the strong pulse in your head.
He is unresponsive, and your own panic rises. You both can’t be down, not now. The fate of the world is happening at this very moment, and you aren’t going to let this new ailment weaken you. You grab his left hand, being careful not to freak him out, and quickly change to have a grip on his wrists. You position yourself so you’re hovering over him, knees on either side of his thighs. His eyes are closed shut, his head shaking. It seemed like he was having a nightmare while still being awake.
“Logan, can you hear me?” You say with fast breaths, your head only getting worse, but still there is no response.
Fuck, I have to do something.
You decide to think fast. Maybe, just maybe, you can stop his internal clock, keeping him in place until you can figure out how to get him out of this. You are a little afraid to do it in his current state, not knowing if he will react before everything settles in, but you have no choice. Not unless you want him to cave in on himself. You will stay in pain if it means helping him.
“I got you, Logan. I got you,” you whisper with a tremor and put your hands to his temples, letting your power weasel its way through his mind. Your head clears instantaneously, the throbbing ebb dissipating, causing a sigh of relief to wash over you. However, that relief takes a turn into something startling.
You aren’t sure what’s happening. Logan wasn’t freezing like you were anticipating, but something else was occurring. Your power feels different, like it was searching for something. Whatever you were doing, it seemed to be working. His breathing had slowed down, his claws retracted, and his body became lax against the wall.
The oddest part of all of this though is that you can see everything. It’s like your mind has become a VCR, and a VHS tape of his best memories has been inserted. It’s kind of nice to witness, seeing that even with all he’s gone through, things got better. However, the next thing you see makes your heart stop.
Everything is subdued, but you can tell he is outside on the lawn of Charles’s mansion. It’s bright out, and you see trees. You see young children running around playing, some using their mutations to get the upper hand in their games. And then he shifts, his eyes going to his side to see a figure beside him. His hand reaches out to them and the image clears.
It’s you. Holy shit, it’s you!
You looked older. Not by much but maybe by a few years. The way you’re presented is more mature, but still has that edge. You honestly liked it, and liked the idea of who you would become.
His hand goes to your face, stroking the skin of your cheek and you watch as both of your hands go to the one lingering. You pressed a kiss to his palm, eyes closing and staying that way until you open them and pull your lips away.
“I didn’t know you had come home.” You said, but it was playful.
“Got back early this morning. Didn’t want to wake you.”
“You can always wake me up, Logan. I missed you so much.”
“You have no idea how much I missed you, sweetheart.”
You watch his arms pull you in, but before you watch it happen your mind forces itself away. You feel tears dotting your face. And from the looks of it, Logan had tears on his face too.
What was all that?
“Is he okay?” You hear Charles coming from behind you, a slight edge to his voice.
“I-I got him,” you stutter, shock still in your system. “You and Hank stop Erik.”
There’s no response except for feet pacing away and out the door. You look around and see everyone is gone, most likely getting out during the chaos. You hear a grunt, and turn to see Logan’s eyebrows scrunched up. His lips are quivering, and he is starting to shake again. When you see more teardrops form, you let go of him.
“Shit, I overdid it,” you say under your breath, even though you have zero clue on what you did.
His eyes shoot open, causing you to almost jump off of him if it weren’t for him pulling you back to him. His hands are on your face, thumbs pressing into your cheeks like he doesn’t know if you are really here or not. He says your name softly, a hint of disbelief in his tone.
“Logan, are you okay?” You say, hands going to his wrists to steady yourself. In that instance he pulls you in, gripping you tightly in his hold and rocking back and forth with you.
“Oh God, you’re alive. Fuck I thought I lost you.” You hear the pain in his voice, but it confuses you.
“Logan, I’m right here. I’m okay,” you reassure, arms wrapping around his head. You try to comfort him, but he just grips you harder.
“I’m sorry,” he says but it’s muffled with his face buried in your neck. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
There is a dampness from his tears, along with the feel of his lips on your skin. His kisses are bruising, like he is trying to convince himself. You, on the other hand, are experiencing so much. You don’t know Logan, but it is very apparent he knows you. He says you two were close friends, but the more he continues to kiss your neck, the more you think there is something else he isn’t telling you. You can take a pretty good guess to what that is.
You are starting to think you’re going to be in this position forever, until you hear footsteps enter the room.
“We need to get ou-“ you can hear that it’s Charles. “What’s going on?”
Your mouth opens to say something but shuts when nothing comes out. You don’t know what to say and you don’t want to say anything that may set Logan into another fit of unrest.
“Charles, go pull the car around discreetly. Make sure you have Hank. We will be down shortly.”
Once again, Charles leaves with no response. You turn your attention back to Logan, who is still weeping against you. You keep holding him tightly, thinking about how you are going to get him up to leave. As luck would have it, however, it is like something snaps back inside him because next thing you know you are being pushed away.
“What are you doing?”
You quickly hop off of him, standing up in the process to provide some distance. You observe him, and see the shift back to how he was before he started to spiral. Still, there is something wild in his eyes, and you have yet to determine if that’s a good or a bad sign.
“Oh thank God,” you sigh in relief. “You had me worried for a second.”
He groans, rubbing his head as he gets his bearings. You should wait to ask; you really should. But you need to know what he saw, and more specifically if he saw what you had seen.
“What happened? What did you see?”
“I saw someone that is going to bring me a lot of pain one day.” Logan looks to the side, and you follow his gaze to where that military man once was.
“I also saw…” he starts, only to look around and notice you two are the only ones in there. “Where is everyone? Where’s Raven?”
“She’s… she’s gone.”
“What?” His head snaps to you, eyes blown wide.
You look down, a sigh leaving your lips at today’s turn of events. You feel the room shift, a tension building that feels foreign to you. You feel guilty, even though you know you shouldn’t, but you feel like you’ve failed him. He is here to fix things, and now no one has a clue if what happened will make things better or worse. From how he is reacting, it can only be the latter.
“We need to leave.” Logan mutters, already walking towards the exit. “Let’s go.”
He isn’t looking at you but waits for you to move. You nod, even though there is no recognition to come, and you walk ahead with him trailing behind you.
Yep, definitely the latter.
Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY
The trip back felt like it had taken years off your lifespan, the stress that had surrounded the jet almost unbearable. Everyone had feelings of failure and guilt, as it took no telepath to see that, but what made things worse was how much Logan was distancing himself.
You had thought after what happened you would get to know more, but there was none of that, not even a word. It’s like you had burned him with the way he kept his distance. Even on the jet, a space with little room, he stayed far. You had purposely moved closer, and he made an excuse to get up only to sit at the opposite end of the jet. It upset you, and you hate that it did. You shouldn’t feel anything about him, yet after that stupid memory you saw, you do. How could you not?
You didn’t realize it at the time, but feeling how far he is from you makes your body ache in a way that’s unfamiliar. The way your body had felt against his, how solid he was, had you yearning. The way he had held you like you were the most precious thing he possessed had you wanting. If you are interpreting his memory correctly, then why is he holding you from such a distance?
Does he feel like it would be cheating? You know that’s you but that isn’t you now. You are different but how different? Different enough to warrant him to see you as a completely different person?
To be fair, you don’t know his past or even his future, but your heart is starting to want to go where he is. It’s like there is a red string connected between you two that stretches far and wide. You can’t help but think you harbor these feelings because no matter what, you were destined to be with him and he was destined for you. Nothing can cut that string, but it can stretch tightly and that string is losing its thread.
Currently, you are sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for someone to come out of Charles’s room. Logan and Hank had taken him there, his legs having given out and his mind going off the rails as the effects of his medicine wear off. You chose to distance yourself so as to not overcrowd.
You could hear them talking, sometimes with voices raising and then going soft again. You couldn’t make out what they were discussing, only hearing certain words that have no meaning without context. It isn’t until you hear the door click open that you stand, seeing Hank leaving the room quickly followed by Logan.
“Is he okay?” You ask, watching Hank come towards you fast.
“He’s going to try and find Raven using Cerebro.” He says walking fast past you down the stairs. “Getting his wheelchair!”
Logan follows him, not glancing at you or saying a word causing you to frown. You are hot on his heels, having more questions desperate for answers.
“Logan, is he going to be alright?”
“Yep, just fine. Hank and I will be right beside him.” Logan says curtly, walking towards Charles’s old office.
“What about me?” You ask, but it falls on deaf ears as he starts to look for something.
“Logan.” You were starting to get frustrated. What the fuck is his problem?
He finally finds what he’s looking for, and you see him slam a phone book onto the desk. He is flipping through it just a touch too aggressive, pages cringing as he flips the pages. He then stops and puts his finger down on a number before picking up the phone and clocking in the digits.
“Seriously, Logan. Who could you possibly be calling?” You ask him, only to get fucking pissed at his next few words.
“I need a cab for 1407 Graymalkin Lane-”
“What the hell are you doing?!” You storm towards him, getting more irritated by the second.
“Calling you a taxi. You are going home.” Logan growls out, about to continue speaking before you snatch the phone from him and slam it back down.
“Like hell I am!” You yell. “Just as I told you a couple days ago, I am not going anywhere. You all need me.”
He slams his hands down against the table, making you jump back. “Listen here, princess. I don’t care how much you think we need you because it doesn’t fucking matter. We need to focus. I need to focus. I cannot do that with you here, so you are going to take a cab back to New York City. Do you understand?”
The daggers in his eyes are sharp, trying to make you give in to his demands. You know better and you can see right through him. “Is this about what happened in Paris?”
He scoffs, turning away from you to walk away. “It was nothing you need to worry about. Just saw someone that is going to make my life hell. I am fine.”
“That isn’t what I am talking about. When I was trying to calm you down, I saw something.” You say, and it stops him in his tracks.
“What do you mean you saw something?” He turns, facing you. “What could you have possibly seen?”
“I was trying to stop your panic attack by stopping the conception of time in your brain, but I did something else. Something I didn’t know I could do.” You explain, and his face softens from anger to confusion.
“I think I somehow moved your consciousness forward in time,” you continued. “I was able to see where I was moving it. It was how I was able to get you to settle down.”
He is in front of you instantly, hands on your shoulders in a tight grip. “What did you see?”
“I saw myself through your eyes.” You breathed out. “We were out on the lawn behind the mansion.”
“What else did you see?” Logan shakes you a little, causing you to squeak. He is starting to scare you a little bit; the way he is behaving is very irrational.
“That was all I saw, I swear.” You say honestly.
Logan sighs deeply, tilting his head back with eyes closed. He lets go of you, taking steps back until he’s against the wall. You are growing worried with how he is acting. You wish he would just tell you everything. Tell you what you two really were. Tell you what is running through his head. Tell you what is scaring him so badly. Seeing him so vulnerable has shaken you, but you can’t back down.
“We weren’t just friends,” you whisper. “We were far more, weren’t we?”
Logan’s breath hitches, and his mouth opens to speak but no words come.
“It explains everything. The way you’ve been acting since we met. I can see the longing in your eyes. I can see it in the way you look after me. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Logan laughs but it isn't playful. It sounds like a laugh that comes to cover the hurt and is full of self-pity.
“It matters to me!” You lament. “I want to know why.”
“Listen,” Logans says, his tone becoming solemn. “Whatever I say or do here affects the future as we know it. Me even being in the same vicinity as you these last few days has made everything extremely difficult for me. If say or do one thing wrong, that’s it. The future I have with you ceases to exist and you cease to exist.”
“What do you mean I cease to exist?” You ask, taken aback by his confession.
Logan’s face pales, quickly turning to go back up the stairs. “Fuck, I’ve said to much.”
Your hand grabs his, yanking him back enough to keep him still. “Logan, what do you mean I cease to exist?”
Both of your emotions are running high, bubbling to the point of overflow; the edge you both were teetering on, about to fall over. You shouldn’t push it, but rationality is no longer home; only frustration.
“Logan, I swear to God if you don’t tell me what the fuck it is you mean I-“
“You die in the future! Is that what you want to hear?” Logan shouts, and everything goes quiet.
You are stunned. “What?”
“You die during the first few Sentinel attacks.” Logan rips his hand away like he’s having an adverse reaction.
“So,” you start, not knowing where you want to go with this question. “So you’re afraid I’m sealing my fate by being here?”
“I’m afraid I once again won’t be able to save you.” Logan says with a pained expression.
“You don’t need to worry about me. If something happens, I can just shift time back and we can prevent it.”
“God, you are still so stubborn,” he heaves. He is now face level with you on the steps, and he takes your face in his hands.
“You don’t understand how hard it is for me to stay away. The first time I saw you at the nightclub, all I wanted to do was pull you into me. It is taking everything in me not to hold you like I want to. To kiss you, to love you. But the more I let you in, the more I am close to giving in. I will not divulge my desires at the risk of everyone that is counting on me, especially you.”
You can see his torment, and all you want is to comfort him. You want to kiss him so bad. You want to pull him by his shirt and never let him go. You understand his love for you, but you want him to understand that you would go to end with him, no matter what.
Your hands go to his wrists, keeping his hands in place. “Have you considered that you coming back here and me being here with you was meant to happen? What if me being here helping you all saves me? What if it extends our lifetime together?”
He doesn’t say anything, but the way he is looking at you makes you weep. His lip quivers, his eyes start to shine, and his jaw is clenching hard enough to break teeth. Your hands slither up his arms to his shoulders. You feel magnetized, your face inching closer to his to see if he will have a change of heart. You are close enough to feel his breath shutter against your lips, and your heart is beating so fast you are sure he can hear it. You feel slight contact, a ghost of a kiss before full impact, but it never comes.
“Logan!” Charles yells from upstairs. “We are getting ready to go.”
Logan is quick to pull away, sending a wave of hurt towards you. He breathes out a stuttered breath before yelling a response and heading upstairs, but before he goes up he turns his head towards you. “There is money on Charles's desk. Please leave while you have the chance.”
He goes upstairs not looking back and you watch as he disappears from your view. You stand there for a while, deep in thought as you weigh your options, but you knew what you were going to do. Even though Logan was afraid, and rightfully so, you had a gut feeling everything would turn itself around.
So, with heavy steps, you walk up the stairs and down the hall, picking the second to last room on the right. It is barren aside from a bed and a dresser, and seeing the bed made you realize how exhausted the day's events have made you. You shut the door, and flop onto the bed, letting sleep take over and dreams manifest.
Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY; Four Hours Later
20 Text Messages.
10 Missed Calls.
3 Voice Messages.
Voice Message 1: Hey baby, just calling you to tell you goodnight. Don’t worry about waking me when you get home. I wanna see you as soon as you get in. Get back safely. I love you.
Voice Message 2: Logan, something is wrong. There are a bunch aircrafts above the mansion. Not sure what is happening. Myself and the others are getting the kids together. I’d rather be safe than sorry. Please be cautious when you get home. I love you.
Voice Message 3: Logan. Logan! Whatever you do, please do not come to the mansion! It’s under attack! Those Sentinels are here and- oh God Logan it’s a slaughter. Please do not come! I’ll find you once I’m safe. I love you!
Logan is running like hell to the mansion, and he can see them. They swarm the building like flies, crawling along the brick. There are fires, giant gaping holes in the wall, and bodies… so many bodies.
He gets in, staying close to the wall as he listens. He can hear the Sentinel bodies grind and creak as they move, hunting down any mutant that hasn’t been vanquished. He sniffs deeply, trying to find you in the building. He hopes you made it out already, but that hope is lost when he gets a strong whiff of you and blood.
So much blood.
He enters the foyer, and dead center he sees your body, a hole pierced into your stomach. He sees your mouth open, trying to breath but your chest stammers as it goes down.
No. No, no, no!
He is at your side, pulling you into his arms. He cradles your head, his hand going to the hand holding your wound. Your eyes are slitted, a dazed look looking right back at him. It’s haunting how dull you are starting to look, and every second adds to his panic.
“Baby, I’m here. I’m here.”
Your free hand, the one not stained in your own blood, clutches onto his shirt. You pulled on it so lightly, strength slowly fading away.
“I told you not to come,” you whimpered. “It’s not safe here.”
“I wasn’t about to leave you here to deal with this alone. We gotta get you out of here.”
“No, you do.”
“Don’t say that,” he said sternly. “You are coming with me.”
He lets go to take his belt and shirt off. Balling up the shirt, he moves your hand to put the fabric against your stomach.
“Fuck!” You screamed.
“I’m so sorry, baby. Bear with me, please.”
He is crying, holding his sobs in as tears break over the dam. He takes his belt and wraps it around your torso, keeping the pressure so more blood doesn’t come out. There is already so much around you.
“I’m gonna lift you up, okay?”
He wraps your arms around his neck, getting a grip under your legs and your back before lifting you up.
“I got you. I got you.”
He starts walking back from where he came, but he wasn’t so lucky this time. He sees them on the ground, making their way up from where he entered. He turns quickly, thinking the only other way out is through the tunnels.
He hits the secret door, and just as it opens he hears one coming their way. He shoves you both through, getting it shut before he starts making his way down. He is making multiple turns, his mind spinning in a haze as he goes to find the exit. He feels your breathing slow, and for the first time in a long time he is scared. You are everything. Without you, he is nothing.
He makes one final turn, the exit at the end, but he halts in his spot. All he sees is carnage. There is blood on the walls, bodies of students, and marks from where their gifts were used. The exit door had been beaten down, the walls cracked and gone along with it.
“Good God…” He shouldn’t have come down here.
He turns to go back, but from the shadows comes one of them. It blends in with the concrete, and makes itself known once it’s in reach. Its arm shifts into something sharp, and once formed it draws down to where he stands, but just as quickly he dodges with you in his arms.
“We’re not dying today, bub.”
He starts to run like hell towards the exit, only to see another one pop up at the opening. He takes a sharp turn, getting the runaround to make it back to the entrance. It’s a maze of turns, feeling like it’ll take an eternity to get to safety, but with one final turn he has it.
And then he doesn’t.
Rubble had fallen from the flooring above and made its way down creating a massive blockage. It’s a fucking dead end.
The two Sentinels approach, both opening their mouths to burn you two alive. He crouches down with his back facing them, preparing to take anything they give him. He will suffer. Good God, he will suffer. But if he can fake them out enough to leave, you will be safe. That’s all that matters.
But the pain never comes.
“Logan.”
He looks down to see you holding your arms out, and his eyes widen when he realizes you are using your powers. He turns to see the Sentinels, but they are still moving. Just incredibly slow.
“Logan, you need to leave.”
He turns back to you, and sees your body shaking. The work he had put into keeping the blood from spilling was fatal. You were hemorrhaging.
“I’m not leaving you here. I won’t do it.”
You let out a pitiful cry, your tears streaming down your cheeks. He can see his too as they mix with yours.
“There is no saving me. Let me save you, please.”
“Baby, I-“
“Do not let me die in vain, Logan. They need you.”
“But I need you!”
“I know, and I’m sorry I can’t give you what you need. It’s selfish, I know.”
“You’re damn right it is.”
“But please, let me be selfish. Let me save you.”
He can start to feel the heat, the Sentinels mouths setting wide enough to set this tunnel ablaze. Everything is telling him to stay, but the way you are looking at him breaks him and it makes him cave.
He can never say no to you.
“Go. Find the others. Make sure they are safe. God, please make sure they are safe.”
“I love you, sweetheart,” Logan chokes, holding you just a little tighter. “I’m so sorry.”
“I am too.”
He kisses you. It’s soft yet full of sorrow. It’s a kiss of death, he knows it.
“I’ll see you in the next life.”
You smiled at that. It’ll be the last smile he sees from you. “Go quickly. I can’t hold on much longer, Logan.”
He lets go, gently setting you down, before he runs past the Sentinels and makes his way back to the exit. The second he was out of sight, he heard it. The roar of the flames, the mechanical sounds from their armor, and your screams.
All he can hear is your screaming.
Your screams.
You are fucking screaming.
Logan shoots up from the bed, a yell cutting off from his lips as he enters consciousness. He is breathing rapidly, swallowing nonexistent spit as he works to pull himself together. His claws were all the way out, a common side effect of his trauma response. He feels how cool the air is in the room due to the sweat that coated his body.
He didn’t think he could dream in this current state. He hasn’t had that dream in a while, even though he wishes it was simply that. He used to have it so often, a constant reminder that he failed you and let you suffer just so he could get away. Having to relive the worst day of his life over and over is his own form of hell.
He hears a knock at the door, startling him from his state of being.
“Logan?”
He freezes up, knowing that voice from anywhere. He really doesn’t want you in here, not with him like this. Not with him feeling so exposed.
“I’m fine!” He calls out, hoping you would take the hint, but he knows better.
He watches the door open and you appear. You are still in your beat up clothes, leather jacket and dirty shoes forgotten. Nothing has changed, but you look even more beautiful than you have since he’s gotten here. Maybe it’s because his senses are heightened. Maybe it’s the way the floodlights from outside shine on you in contrast with the dark room. Simply, maybe it is just you.
“I thought I told you to leave.” He says, trying to sound annoyed, but failing miserably.
“Yeah, and I told you I wasn’t going to let grown men tell me what to do.” You responded, shutting the door behind you.
“Hmph,” he groused, looking down at his hands as his claws sink back into his flesh.
He hears you get closer, feet pattering against the wooden floors. “I could hear you in your sleep. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” But am I really? “Just a nightmare.”
He looks out the window, the night in full effect. The bed dips, and he looks to see you sitting down at the end. He sees it in your face that you don’t believe him, which isn’t surprising. You’ve always been able to read him no matter the circumstances.
“Did you want to talk about it?”
“No,” he says quickly. He doesn’t want to relive it twice in one night.
“Okay, okay,” you say calmly. “Tell me what I can do for you.”
Please stay, so I know this is real.
That’s what he wants to say, but he feels like he will choke. His silence is deafening, so much so he sees your face twist in reaction.
“If you want to be alone, I understand.” You got up from the bed. “Goodnight, Logan.”
There was a time when he didn’t need to be strong or to carry the weight of others. With you as his anchor, he could be exposed. He has had to be strong for so long in recent years, but with you right here in front of him, he feels himself caving. So many emotions are rushing to his head, a battle between the Devil and God raging. He knows it’s wrong to interfere with the past, especially when there are consequences, but after tonight his sanity is slipping. Before he knows it, his hand grabs your arm to keep you from taking another step.
“Stay,” he whispers, a hint of a crack that is only noticed by him. “Please.”
“Okay,” you say with ease. “Where do you want me?”
The angel on his shoulder is telling him to not give in, yet the little, conniving demon on the other side is telling him what he wants to hear. He wants you close; needs you close.
“Will you let me hold you?”
He thought there may be some hesitation, but there is none. You walk back over to the bed, and he lays back as you climb onto it. His arm is out to invite you in, and you situate yourself to him. Your left arm is cradled into your chest and your right curls so your hand is where his heart is. Your head settles where his right arm and shoulder connect.
“Is this okay?”
It’s more than okay. “Yes, thank you.”
You both lay there for a while, and he lets his senses completely take over. The first thing he senses is your smell. There is something so sugary sweet about your scent. He equates it closely to something he’d smell in a candy shop with housemade confections. It’s intoxicating, and makes him hungry.
You fit into his arms just right. The skin from your cheek laying on his exposed shoulder brings a comfort he hasn’t had in so long. It made him realize how touch-starved he’s been. He hasn’t touched another woman since your passing, and the thought of doing so makes his stomach turn. He only wants to feel you against him, in every sense of the word.
The most shocking thing for him is to hear how calm you sound. Your breathing is deep and slow. Your heartbeat is sounding its soothing rhythm under your ribcage. It’s the opposite of how his heart was reacting; hard and fast pumps of blood rushing. He feels your hand rubbing circles over his heart, and he wonders if you can tell how much you are affecting him.
“Tell me something about me from the future.”
Logan looks down at you, and you look so peaceful as you lay with him. Does he do this to you?
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Something good.”
There are so many good things about you. It’s hard to divulge into just one thing, but even then he knows where to start.
“You teach music at the school.”
You perked your head up at this. “I teach?”
“Mhmm,” he hums, smiling to himself. “You do a lot of the extracurricular activities for the younger ones, but music is one you do a lot of. You’re really good with kids.”
You move your body, hands on top of one another on his chest. Your head lays on them, looking at him with a smile that makes his heart beat faster.
“Sounds like I’ve become a lot more patient in the future.”
“Trust me,” Logan chuckles. “You are still quite stubborn, but you are different with them.”
Logan loved seeing you with the kids. He remembers how nervous you were to teach the younger students, but he knew you would do well. Seeing how you interacted with them during class, how you encouraged them and gave them the will to work hard. So many of the kids came from families who despised who they were. You became a mother-figure to a lot of them.
He thinks about the time he woke up to kids laughing and looked out the window to see you running around with them. You were carrying on with them, laughing with them, looking at them with care and love. It was the moment he realized he would love to start a family with you. Watch you grow with his child, see you love them like you love the kids at school. It makes his heart twist.
“Did they like me?”
“Oh, sweetheart. They loved you.” Loved. God, you were so loved by them.
“Can I ask something?” You ask.
“Anything.” He can feel himself getting lost in you, his hand subconsciously caressing your hair.
“What I did in Paris,” you start. “You seemed genuinely confused when I explained what I did earlier. Was that something I couldn’t do in the future?”
When you told him you brought his memories to the forefront of his mind, shifting time in his brain, he was shocked. Your mutation is special, and the control you had over it is simply astounding. He isn’t surprised that your powers can do more than what was discovered originally, but it now begged the question: what triggered it and why now?
“No,” Logan says with the shake of his head. “What do you think caused it?”
“Logan, I think you did.” He hears you hesitate.
“What do you mean?”
He watches as you sit up, crossing your legs. Your hands grab his right hand, thumbs pushing into his skin right where his mutated bones come out. It is strange how different you are acting in comparison to the last few days. You are acting like the you he gets to know later, the edge in your attitude completely gone. Maybe this is who you are or maybe… you are only this way with him.
“So, the day we met, earlier that day, I saw you come out of the Algonquin.”
He sits up at this, heart picking up more. “You were there?”
“I pulled over because I started to get a terrible migraine. It was so bad I thought I was having a stroke or something, but then it stopped like it was never there. Next thing I know, I see you and I can't look away. I felt like I knew you and I didn’t know why.”
“Has it happened more than once? The migraines?” Logan is pulled into your direction, back hunching slightly to get closer even when he doesn’t realize it.
“It happened again at Max’s when you introduced yourself.”
His eyes widen, the pieces coming together. “That’s why you looked like you were in pain.”
“I chalked it up to having drank too much,” you huffed out a laugh. “It didn’t make sense at the time, but after Paris I can’t shake the feeling.”
“So what are you saying? That I opened your mind?”
“If I didn’t have access to this part of my mutation from the future you are from, what if that means this was all meant to happen?” You brought his hand to your chest where your heart lies and he can feel directly where your heart beats.
Where it beats for him.
“I wasn’t even the one meant to come here,” Logan says in denial. “It was supposed to be Charles.”
“But what if it wasn’t?” You grip his hand harder, pushing it further against you. “What if you were meant to find me to make things right? To save everyone. To save us. Maybe this is fate trying to tell you something.”
He is becoming weak. Your words are so honest and it is taking nothing to believe you. Maybe you are right, maybe you are wrong. You haven’t seen the bloodbath the future becomes, but maybe you don’t need to have seen to know. Your words, your reasoning; both make his resolve crack and there isn’t much left. Having you here in front of him, being so reassuring and confident, he isn’t going to last.
“What are you thinking right now, Logan?” You ask gently, and if he is seeing things correctly, he sees how much you want him to give in. And that’s all he needs.
“I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you right now.”
His hand on your chest is pulled lower, down to your left breast where you curl your fingers over his to squeeze the flesh. “Then do it.”
To say the dam has broken would be an understatement. The dam has vaporized, mass flooding reaching the heavens. Those three words were enough for him to snatch you into his arms, pull you on top of him, and get his lips onto yours. He has your thighs on either side of his own, holding you so close that your crotch is pressed tightly against his. Your hands are holding onto his shoulders with nails digging into his skin, and fuck he loves it.
His hands are all over you; going from your hips to your ass to the small of your back to your head. He wants to touch every part of you and memorize every inch of your skin. His fingers bundle up the bottom of your top, pushing it up with his fingertips to let his palms glide along your waist. You gasped against his lips, giving him the opportunity to let his tongue fondle yours.
He unclasps your bra as his hands reach the middle of your back, giving him the chance to take both items of clothing off your body. He pulls away from you, back leaning against the headboard as he takes you in. Your body is just as he remembered it, and he could weep at how stunning you are.
“Do I look okay?” There is a hint of uncertainty in your voice, and it sends his hands to gently bring your face down to him.
“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.” His eyes bore into yours as he tells you, needing you to know how much he means it.
Before he can say anything else, your lips are back on his. He lets you take the lead, your tongue leading him in a dance. It gives him the opportunity to focus his hands on your breasts. You whimper against his mouth and he feels you push your chest into his palms as he massages them, which causes a little smirk to form at the corner of his mouth. You had always loved when he played with them as it turned you on like nothing else.
“Good to know your tits have always been so sensitive,” he murmurs against your lips, thumb and pointer fingers going to pinch the puckered buds.
A high-pitched moan is pulled from you, your hips involuntary grinding against him in response. Your lips let go of his, and they end up going to his cheek. “I guess you know how to get me going, don’t you?”
“Oh baby, I know your body like the back of my hand,” he hums with a rumble. He can play your body like an instrument, the song being your sweet noises. He is going to show you just how well he makes you sing.
He is quick to flip you over, removing his white wife pleaser in the process before his hands go to your jeans. He yanks them down with your panties and you help kick them off before he tosses them aside. He goes to take his own off, stripping everything away until he is as naked as you are.
He crawls up to you, moving your thighs over his hips. His hands reach under your back and he pulls you into his lap. Your legs wrapped around him, and he groans as your wet cunt sits against his cock. His left arm stays wrapped around you, and his right hand holds the back of your head with fingers at the roots of your hair. Your hips start grinding up onto his erection, mewls so sweet that he can’t help but consume them.
He pulls your head to the side by your hair gently, tugging just enough to get a reaction from you. Your eyes flutter, and he hums as he lets his lips ghost over your ear.
“I have every little spot of yours memorized,” he kisses behind your ear, his tongue peeking out for a little lick before kissing in the same spot. “Even if you think you know what they are, just know I know all of them.”
“Fuck, Logan,” you say with a shiver, making your body press further into the heat he is projecting.
“Mmm that’s right.” His lips go down to the underside of your jaw where your pulse is, kissing it gingerly to prepare you for his next act. “Keep that up.”
He bites down slowly on the crevice, letting his teeth sink in far enough to leave his mark. Your hands are on his head, cooing softly at the distinct pressure. He releases, licking the indents he left in your skin to soothe the ache.
“You sound so pretty, baby,” he murmurs. “Let me see if you know this one.”
His mouth trails down, sucking marks into your skin until he gets down to your sternum. His back hunches down, leaning you back to get the angle just right. He sets his tongue to work, letting the tip trail a stripe up until he reaches the notch between your collarbones. A little gasp followed by a hushed curse falls from your lips. The sensation causes you to squirm in his lap and it makes his dick twitch against your folds. Logan isn’t a patient man in most regards, but he could spend an eternity exploring your body. Your reactions fuel him and they send blood right down to his cock.
“Didn’t know about that spot, did you?”
“No, ah!” Logan pulls another gasp from you as he nibbles around the edges. “Getting me addicted to you early, aren’t you?”
“That’s right, angel.” Logan can’t help himself, thrusting his hips up a little to let his length rub into your pussy; so wet and so good. “I’ll have you yearning for me for decades to come.”
As he proceeds the motion of his hips, tightening his hold on you, he allows his right hand to come up to your left breast. With his tongue and cock being a distraction, he pulls at your taut nipple at the same time his teeth bite down on your collarbone. You cry out his name, his hair being fisted and pulled. He can’t help the wanton moan that spills out, riling him up to no end.
Your breast feels so at home in his hand, but looking at how pretty your nipples look, flushed from his treatment, he gets a craving. His tongue makes a path down, making its way to the left and up until it slithers to your erected bud. His mouth latches, encircling the peak as he sucks earnestly. He continues rutting into you, feeling his and your fluids coating his appendage.
Logan feels himself becoming drunk. With you in his arms reciprocating his intentions, it’s like he is weightless. Something deep in his scarred heart is healing. Years of trauma from seeing and experiencing the unthinkable transform into the better things in life. He thinks of the future he could have with you. A future where you take his last name. A future where you two live in a little home decorated however you choose. A future with your belly big with his kid, where he can kiss your stomach every morning and every night. A future where you and him raise a child. He wants that. He wants that so bad.
In his drunken haze, he feels one of your hands leave his head. Your fingertips send his nerves alight as they trail down his arm. You are tracing the veins that are bulging out, and he grunts as they go over to his chest. He has switched to your other breast, and as he starts, he feels your palm against his cock. You are pushing it more into your cunt, thumb running over his fat tip as you rub it.
“Fuck,” he curses with a pop. “You are such a greedy girl.”
“What can I say?” You jest. “I know what I want.”
“And what would that be, sugar?” He thrusts against you, cockhead rubbing up and down your clit.
You smiled at him, and your other hand goes from his head to his jaw. Fingers slightly scratching his beard with your thumb on his bottom lip, you lean back into him with knees shifting. They are on either side of him now and his tip is being lined up against your hole. Your eyes seek out his, and he can’t look away as he admires you. You are beautiful, an angel sent down for him. Every version of you is perfect, and for every version of you he will sacrifice everything.
“I want you to make love to me,” you say with a shuttered breath. “Show me how you love me. Show me what I have to look forward to.”
Logan’s tip is enveloped by your heat by the time you finish, and your words were the full confirmation he needed to seat you fully onto his shaft.
It’s like gasping for air with how intense his reunion with you feels. You fit perfectly around him. It’s almost too good to be true. Part of him is wondering if he is still dreaming, but with how warm and snug you are, it has to be real. This has to be happening.
You lift your hips until all that’s connected is the head before dropping back down. His cock glides right in and he grunts as you work yourself on him. He guides your movements with his hands, both on your plush ass and giving a squeeze with every bounce. Your arms have since wrapped around his neck, head hiding in his neck. Your hot breath fans across his skin, your teeth nipping at him every time he fills you up.
He loves how you are taking what you need, letting you keep the pace to get used to his size. Normally during an intimacy session, he would prepare you more thoroughly. He’d pleasure you with his mouth, letting his spit coated tongue lubricate your pretty pussy. He’d finger you open, getting you nice and relaxed for his heavy cock. He would add another when your little noises got rowdier, a tell-tale sign that you needed more. He did everything to ensure you were ready for him, the enjoyment of your pleasure and taste a perk in the endeavor. With how you are riding him, however, it feels like you are preparing him. Taking it slow, letting him savor you, letting him know that this is real and you are his.
“You feel incredible, Lo,” you whimper into his neck. He just about mimics you after hearing you call him by that little nickname.
“I can say the same to you, pretty girl.” He lifts your head by your hair, putting your forehead to his as he rocks up into you. “Taking my cock so well. You were made for me. Ain’t that right?”
“Mhmm,” you hum. “I’ll always be yours. In every lifetime, I am yours and you are mine.”
He chokes out a laugh, completely overwhelmed with emotion. He kisses your swollen lips with ease, his tongue flicking out to savor your taste. Every moan that comes out is captured by his mouth, swallowing the sweet sounds desperately. He notices your hips start to slow, and your whining gets more consistent. He knew you were tiring, but that was okay. He has enough energy and greed to take over. You make him greedy, and he needs more.
“Did you want me to take over, baby?”
“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Take me.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He shifts himself, keeping you two connected as he gets you onto your back. He situates you so your legs are wrapped around his torso, legs pushed down so your thighs are almost to your chest. The angle he has you in gives him the chance to push in just a little more, his tip putting pressure onto your cervix.
“Oh God, you are so deep,” you mewl, clenching down on his cock causing him to groan at the grip.
“That’s right, baby. Damn you look so beautiful like this.”
“Yeah? I look beautiful with your big cock in my pretty pussy?”
“Fuck, you got a mouth on you.” Logan thrusts shallowly in response, a whine ripping out from your throat. “But to answer your question, you look beautiful no matter what.”
He starts thrusting long, deep strokes into you. He lets one hand stick to your hip, and the other has a gentle grip on your jaw to keep your head in place. His thumb traces your bottom lip, and in an instant your tongue latches to it. It draws it in, getting it so your lips close around it and suck on it as your tongue lathers it. Your eyes shut, and you hum happily like you are savoring the musk from his skin. It enraptured him, making him pick up the pace, hips starting to slam against you.
He’s on the cusp of his release. He doesn’t want this end, not by a long shot. But tonight will become tomorrow. A new day will start where the stresses of his mission will come to light. All he can do is savor this last little bit of happiness and hope sometime soon he will wake up with you by his side.
“Lo, I’m close,” you grunt out.
He takes his soaked thumb, bringing it down to your bundle of nerves. “I’ll get you there, baby. Cum whenever you are ready.”
He swirls your clit at an easy pace, a contrast to how he is slamming into you. He is battering into your pussy, hitting that spot he knows all too well. Your moans grow louder, more accustomed to his hard hitting movements. The sounds of wet slapping with moaning and grunting fill the room, and with the slightest bit of added pressure to your clit he gets you there; right where he wants you.
Your back is arching off the bed, nails finding purchase on his thighs. Your moans are breathless, the wind knocked out as he continues the fast pace of his hips. He looks down where the two of you are connected, watching the white fluid flow down between your ass and drip onto the bed. He can smell it and something snaps in his brain where he wants more.
He can tell you are coming down from your high, but he isn’t having any of that. His length stills, fully seated in you, and starts rutting the tip against your g-spot.
“Fuck, it’s too much,” you cry out. “Logan, please!”
“I got you, pretty girl. Just need you to cum on my cock one more time.”
You nod, and he pushes his hips harder, and it isn’t long before you are wailing with another release. This sets him off again, and he pulls almost fully out before pistoning his cock in and out rapidly as he prolongs your orgasm. You are wailing his name, and he can see tears falling down the sides of your eyes from how good he was making you feel. He is on top of a hill about to roll down, and before he releases, he pulls out.
Your legs try to shut, but his thighs prevent it. He takes two fingers and sticks them into your cunt to continue riding your release out. His other hand fists his cock over your stomach, and with a growl he is cumming in ropes. White paints your tummy until it’s pooling down into your belly button, drenching the skin and making it sheer. He is breathing heavy, orgasmic bliss fading into something more peaceful. He sees you are on the same boat, chest going up and down. It isn’t until he hears a sob crash out from your lips and more tears forming that he snaps out of his daze.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” He is urgent as he gets off the bed, getting closer to you from the side of the bed. His hands are immediately on your face, thumbs wiping away the new droplets trailing down.
“I’m sorry,” you choke, staggered breaths coming from you with a mixture of sobs in between. “I’m okay. It was just a lot.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I got carried away.” He goes to kiss the apples of your cheeks where the tears have stained, before standing up fully. “Let me get you cleaned, okay?”
He turns to go get a towel from the bathroom when he feels your hand wrap around his wrist, stopping him completely.
“It was a lot, but in a good way.”
He goes to kneel on the ground beside the bed, hands going to yours to kiss your knuckles. “Are you sure you are okay? I wouldn’t dream of hurting you,” he murmurs into your skin.
“Logan, I have never experienced pleasure like that before,” you say hiccuping, causing a laugh to bubble out after. “I never thought I could experience something like that with someone ever.”
It dawns on him that this is technically your first time with him, meaning once the future sets to the right course, this moment will become the first time he made love to you. His mind goes back to the very first time, both coming back from a night out with a need so deep that it was said and done too quickly. This time, he got to cherish you. He got to make your first time with him feel special and adored. It is surreal, and it is everything.
“Why are you crying?” He hears you whisper, a hand escaping his grip to wipe away his own tears.
He didn’t even realize it, but he didn’t care. He didn’t hide it. He lets you wipe them away, mirroring how he tended to yours. “I’m happy. Happier than I have been in a long time.”
He brings his head down to kiss your lips, a light peck that leads to a few more on your face. A giggle leaves your lips, and he swears his face grew more wet.
He looks to see the cum starting to dry on your skin, and he places one more kiss before standing up. “Let me get you cleaned up, and we can rest for a while.”
He rushes to the bathroom, steps heavy, and emerges with a warm, wet towel. He sits on the edge of the bed, taking the fabric to your heat to clean the fluids lingering. He is gentle, not wanting to rub the towel anywhere that’s still sensitive to the touch. He kisses your knees and the inside of your thighs, the fabric now on your tummy as he wipes you clean. Your skin is cleared of any fluids, and with one last kiss to your flesh he pulls away.
He tosses the towel into the sink before going to the other side of the bed, pulling the sheet and comforter back to get under. He reaches over to you, pulling you into him as he adjusts the blanket from under you. He settles with you on his chest, just like you were earlier, with the bedding now over your forms. You snuggle up to him, your fingers twirling around the hair on his chest. His fingers brush through your hair, admiring the afterglow you are giving, and thinking about how lucky he is right now.
You are his baby. His life. His soul. He was miserable without you, but he didn’t realize how bad off he was until now. Having you back in his arms, even for a moment, made his soul come to life. It had been rendered useless when it was severed, and now his sense of purpose is strong. The love he is feeling in this room wraps around him snuggly, and he doesn’t want to leave its embrace.
Your left hand pokes out from in between your bodies, and his free hand goes to twiddle with the fingers. He thinks about how big his hands are compared to yours. His whole fist could cover the entirety of your hand, yet your hands are on the rougher side like his. There are some calluses from what he assumes is drumming. They form along the top of your palm where your fingers connect. He stops where your ring finger lies, and he subconsciously sighs.
He remembers how Storm had helped him find a ring for you. You had said how you would love anything he chose because it was from him. However, he wanted it to be a ring that made a statement for his love. He wanted a ring where every time you looked at it, you would know how much he adored you.
He thinks about how back in the future, it is still around his neck like a virtue. It makes him wonder if in the near distant future, when things become sane and good, if he will still have that ring. Will he, who may become a different man after he returns, have the guts to propose to you? He regrets so much, but that is something he regrets greatly. Not proposing before the world fell apart. Not proposing to let you know that he is ready to take the next step, and to let you know he is committed to you even past the point of death. Death do us part doesn’t apply to you or him.
“What’s on your mind?”
He looks down to see you looking up at him, a smile forming on his lips as he takes you in. “Just thinking about how I could go for a cigar right now.”
You smacked his chest, making him grunt out a chuckle. “I’m guessing that’s a common occurrence after these kinds of things.”
“That or we go for round two,” he smirks, laughing as you smack his chest again.
“Horndog,” you mumble into his side.
“A horndog for you, baby.” He goes to kiss you again but then he hears rapid knocking on their door.
“Are you two decent?” Hank asks loudly from behind the door. “This is urgent!”
“Just come in, Hank.” Logan pulls the covers further up on you, a slight possessiveness taking over as Hank comes in. Your body is for his eyes only.
He thought Hank may feel a little embarrassed seeing the two of you like this, but there is none of that. Hank marched over; any social cues forgotten as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“Listen, bub, what could possibly be so urgent that you are sitting on the bed I just fucked my girl silly on?”
“Logan!” You scowl.
Hank rolls his eyes. “Raven is going to Washington. Trask is going to be at the White House tomorrow, and she plans to strike. We need to leave tonight.”
“What is happening at the White House?” Logan asked, sitting up on his elbows.
Hank shakes his head in a way that tells Logan it isn’t for anything good. “They are presenting the Sentinel Program tomorrow.”
“Oh God,” you mutter. “Trask is already that far along? Does that mean they could be unleashed sooner?”
Logan shutters at the thought. The idea of the Sentinels starting their massacre whole decades earlier makes him uneasy. It scares him. He wonders if this means things are now going to be worse than they already were, which is hard to imagine. He doesn’t want to imagine it.
He wishes he had more time. He doesn’t know when he will get to be like this with you again. It could feel like a matter of seconds, minutes, hours, days. He could wake up to a world where you and him don’t coincide. But at the end of the day, he needs to pull through for you and everyone else. His main priority is that he wakes up to a world where everyone is alive.
This is his last chance.
“Alright, we’ll get up and get stuff together.” Logan says, and with that Hank gets up with a nod.
As he makes his exit, Logan starts to get up, but not before he feels your arms wrapping around his torso trying to pull him back.
“Sweetheart, we need to get up,” Logan says softly, not wanting to disturb the peace in this room. Not wanting to unveil their reality.
“Just a few more minutes,” you wager. “I’ll freeze time if that means I can stay like this for a few more minutes.”
He can’t deny you. God, he can’t. He lays back down to his original state, and before he can help himself the words are out in the open.
“I love you.”
You didn’t respond, and that’s okay. He already knows you love him too.
The White House; Washington D.C.
“Yes, I am with the marine band.”
“You are late, Sergeant. Get into position with the others.”
“Yes sir!”
You move past the metal detectors, jogging towards the rest of the marine band members. There was an empty spot where the snare lies and you get into position, harness going over your shoulders. You fall into play, Stars and Stripes Forever sounding throughout the set up.
It’s perfect really. You are in the best position to see everything. You will be able to see Trask, the President, and other high ranking officials. If things fall into complete disarray, you will shift the time backward and have a complete do over. In the meantime, the guys will look for Raven before she can strike.
It was a string of luck thanks to Charles’s willingness to use his powers again. Hank had told you he had a change of heart, and while you had no proof of what convinced him, you had a feeling it had to do with the man who completely bared his soul to you last night.
Just the thought makes you blush. You aren’t one to let someone you barely know in your bed, giving yourself to them completely. You’ve been there, done that, and it never stuck or felt right. With Logan, it felt different. There is a bond between you both that’s inexplicably there. You have felt it from the start, and it was only confirmed after last night. The way he took care of you, made love to you; you could feel the love he felt for you and while scary to admit, you love him too.
He looks at you like you are the center of his universe. He looks at you like living isn’t worth shit unless you are by his side. It pains you but only because whatever happened in his future has scarred him deep. You could feel it in the way he kissed you, and left marks on your body. He was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming; that you were there.
You don’t know what will happen after today, but what you do know is you will find him. You will find him, learn every detail about him until he is like a second skin, and love him like he deserves. You will make sure of it.
You look towards the metal detectors and see them passing through. You see Logan look in your direction, a smile shining towards you that you mirror right back. He looks you up and down, sending a wink your way before turning back to Charles and once again your face feels hot. His effect on you is absolutely outstanding.
You can see Charles scanning the crowd, undoubtedly looking for Raven amongst the thousands of people. You keep your eyes on him, reading his expressions as he continues lurking. You aren’t sure what time it is but it’s only a matter of time before President Nixon makes his speech. Even then, that doesn’t mean Raven won’t strike before that.
“I haven’t found Raven yet. Be prepared.”
You felt Charles rattling in your brain. You look in his direction to see everyone looking towards you and you nod to signal the message was clear.
The conductor cuts off the song, signaling the event is about to start. You focus your attention to the stage, looking for any kind of sign of Raven. Everything seems pristine, Secret Service covered at every point.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” You hear someone speak through the microphone on the podium. Your attention goes to the man, someone from Nixon’s advisory team surely, standing before everyone. “It is my utmost pleasure to welcome Mr. President Nixon!”
You see the conductor wave his baton, signaling to start playing, and quickly you are rolling your sticks once the first beat drops. You watch, trying to look in your peripherals for anything weird, before you hear a gunshot.
Your eyes snap to the stage, and you see Trask lying there with a bullet to his head. People are losing their minds, standing erratically to get away from whoever the shooter was. You drop your drumsticks, quickly snapping your fingers to stop the commotion. Everything freezes, and you take the opportunity to walk away from your post. You make observations, needing to be quick, and it doesn’t take long for you to see Raven. Or at least make the assumption that it’s her.
You see she transformed into a man from the Secret Service. The gun has since been lowered and you can see two other Secret Service officials running to tackle. You walk to look at the man’s face, and it makes your lips purse slightly.
She is smiling. There is genuine joy in what she just did. Before time froze over, it was obvious she saw the other men coming to take her down, but she didn’t care. You see it in her face: she won. It didn’t matter what happened afterwards. She saved her kind, your kind.
Except she didn’t, and that’s what kills you as you look at her. Her actions kill so many, and leave so many people without their loved ones. Your future livelihood is dismantled by the Sentinels, so deep down you understand Raven’s hatred for Trask. You hate him too, but you believe all will come to the light. Trask will get his due diligence, and hopefully it’s something worse than death.
Humiliation. Defunding his work. Life behind bars. For a man like him, death would be too easy.
You pass her, heading towards the rest of the group. You get to Logan’s side, and release a breath you didn’t know you needed to release. You lift your arms up and move them down slowly. As they descend, time rolls back like it’s a moveable force. People that swarmed like ants are back in their seats, high security are back at their stations, the President makes his way back behind the stage, and Trask is back on his feet. Your hands clenched tight, holding everything in place before releasing and things continue on completely reset.
You lean down to Charles, making sure he hears you clearly. “She’s right there to the left of the stage. Act fast.”
Charles looks in that direction, focusing with an urgency as he sets his sights on Raven. You watch the scene unfold again, and see how Raven goes to pull the gun from her jacket but she halts. You see her grow stiff, and her lips move like she is talking to someone.
“I’ve got her,” Charles says with relief. “I can only hold her for so long.”
“You two go get her,” Hank says as he gets behind Charles. “He is right. Charles is still not as strong as he was before. You both need to be quick.”
You nod and the two of you start trekking over to where Raven is. The President is talking, but it’s muddled as you focus. The two of you walk slowly, but with urgency, not wanting to cause any alarm that would halt any progress. That didn’t matter, however, because right as you two are on her, a Secret Service agent is in front of you both.
“I’m sorry, but this is as far as you two can go.” He has his hands raised in front of him to prevent any further steps.
“Behold! The world will never be the same again…” The National Anthem kicks in, and you turn to see the American flag drop. What you see makes your jaw drop.
Eight large robots. They couldn’t be more than twenty feet tall. Hell, it looks like they could stomp the average person out. The sheer size of them makes you uneasy, knowing what they can and will do makes your stomach churn.
“Is that what they look like?” You say quietly, your back now pressed against Logan’s front.
“This is just the start.” Logan's right hand grabs yours, squeezing tightly. “But we can change that.”
You squeeze back just as tight, hoping it conveys that you are with him. “Let me stop the time so you can get her.” You go to snap your fingers, but Logan squeezes your hand again as if to hold off.
“What?”
“Do you hear that?” He yells over the cheers. “Something’s coming.”
Logan keeps looking around, and in his search is when you see something moving from the corner of your eye. You turn, and a lump starts forming in your throat.
“Good God…”
It is clockwork with how things evolved. The Sentinels, with their yellow eyes and shiny polymer, are no longer on their feet. They are in the air, carefully looking down on the crowd like they are Gods. They look so much bigger off the ground, and it unsettles you to no end.
You see Trask and the Major talking, a look of frustration on the scientist's face. It confuses you because he is the one that has control over the giants. However, your question is answered when the sun seems to go away and only shadows linger in the shape of a ring. Rubble and debris fall from the sky, and once you look up you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.
A whole fucking stadium. Rows and rows of seats and cement foundation floating in the sky. It moves over the White House like a storm, slowly but surely coming with impending coverage. It is only as the inner circle enters your vision that you see Erik, carrying the weight of it like it was nothing.
The Sentinels rise higher, going up towards the floating anomaly as it surrounds it. You think for a second that maybe they were activated because they detected the threat. However, as you watch them reach the top, taking places like they are guarding a post with arms drawn, you know it wasn’t anyone commanding them from the ground, but from the sky.
“Holy shit Erik…” you whisper to yourself, some disbelief edged into your voice. Erik was a powerful mutant, that you knew, but this? This was next level.
“I’m getting Raven!”
Before you can say anything, Logan is running to tackle Raven down, but it doesn't matter. The minute he is on his feet, bullets are raining from the sky in droves.
“Logan, get back!” You yell, running to pull him back before the mass array of bullets hit him.
“I’ll be fine! I can take them!” Logan yells over the madness of crowds flocking away. “We need to get her!”
“Look around!” You grab his shoulders, shaking them. “It doesn’t matter if we get her now. We need to get Erik and we can’t if we are both down!”
You don’t wait for him to answer, dragging him to rubble that had made its way to the ground. You look around it, trying to get eyes on Charles and Hank before the ground shakes. Logan has his arms around you, covering your body with his to protect it from any kind of blow.
It’s quiet for a moment as the dust settles. You peep out again, trying to locate the other two again. The field was a ghost town, the crowd able to escape before the stadium trapped them in. The President, Trask, and others were gone, assuming they went into some sort of hiding place that only they know about. It is only then that you realize Raven is no longer to be seen, which makes you think she went into hiding… with them.
“Oh no…”
“What?” Logan whispers, his eyes trained elsewhere.
“I think Raven is with Trask.”
“Unfortunately, I think we have a bigger fucking problem now.” Logan curses with eyes unmoving.
You look to see where he is staring, and you see Erik walking towards the White House before stopping. His hands go out in front of him, moving them like he is scanning for something.
You feel something in your mind move, and you gasp when you hear the voice in your head. “Charles?”
“My dear, we are running out of time.” You hear Charles echo in your head. “If you or Logan can get Erik’s helmet off of him, I can stop him.”
“Okay, on it.” You turn in Logan’s hold, back now against the rubble. “We need to get the helmet off him. I will stop time while you grab it.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Logan grunts, crouching in front of you.
“Alright, here we go.” You focus all your energy on your surroundings before snapping your fingers. Your fists are secured, and you look at Logan before nodding his way. “Go on.”
He goes to get up but stops for a second before coming back down. His lips are on yours, a long peck before releasing you. You’re stunned, not expecting such a romantic gesture. “I’ll be back for you, baby.”
He’s off, running towards Erik. You watch as he makes it up to him, carefully removing the helmet and putting it under his arm. He is on his way back, holding the helmet close as he gets back to where you stood. You both crouch back down, and you unclench your fists letting time continue its course.
“Charles, he’s all yours,” you say with the hope he can hear you.
It’s quiet for only a moment when you hear something heavy fall to the ground. You hear a yell, one that sounded exactly like Charles, and you shoot up. You see some particles in the air to your right, steel and concrete a heap on the ground. You see brown hair, and then you see Hank, fully in his true blue form, trying to lift the heavy weight off of Charles. Panic sets in, not really sure how bad the damage is but it stirs you to stand up and release the alarming catharsis that bubbles to the surface.
“Charles!” You scream, your fight or flight response taking the former as you run towards them. You sense Logan right behind you, following your trail as you approach the mess. You almost make it, ready to stop time again but then you feel something graze your arm and then a stretch of pain that takes you out.
You fall with a grunt, holding your left arm as you curse to yourself. Blood is making its way down your arm, and you work to put pressure on it but it continues to seep through the cracks of your fingers. Shit, shit, shit!
You hear more bullets go off towards you, and your heart is in your throat as you expect to be battered, but they don’t come. They don’t come because Logan is in front of you, body jerking as he works to pick you up as wounds form from his back.
“Holy shit, Logan!”
“Hold on!” He seethes in pain, holding you close as he gets you both behind another pile of rubble.
You both have your backs to the scene unfolding, but you know there isn’t much time to stay here. With haste, you unbuckle your belt, flinging it out of the jean loops and wrapping it below the bullet wound. Your teeth sink into the leather, pulling it tightly before securing it.
You look over at Logan, who is surrounded by the pellets he pushed out from his back. He grunts as one more falls to the ground behind him, and he turns to you with an alertness you’ve become all too familiar with.
“Are you okay?” You ask stupidly, because of course he is.
He doesn’t answer at first, looking at you and then looking back at the destroyed lawn. It causes you to look too, and you can see Hank clobbering one of the Sentinels as he yanks out its wiring. But he’s outnumbered and it’s only a matter of time before they gang up on him.
“We need to help Hank,” you say, getting ready to stand up before Logan’s hand grabs you by your jean loops.
Logan’s hands are on your face, holding it still as to keep your focus on him. There is conflict in the way he looks at you; a conflict that says you won’t agree with what he’s about to do next. You can read him so easily, and what you are reading makes you uneasy.
“No, Logan…”
“Sweetheart, I need you to stay right here.” His eyes are saying so much more in relation, telling you why he’s asking you this. You know he has lost too much, and to lose it all before it’s even started isn’t in the cards for him. Still, you can’t help the stubbornness that begs to fight with him.
“I’m not leaving you defenseless out there.”
“Then defend us from here,” Logan says firmly, mind unchanging. “I will not lose you here. I am not going back to a future where you don’t exist.”
It’s quiet for a second, words processing in your head. You knew he loved you, but to see it run so deep at his declaration made you want to cry. How is it a man that you haven’t known for long, can have such an effect on you? How is it that a part of him already runs so deeply inside you? It leaves you with the conclusion that if you are feeling all of this after a few days, then what he must be feeling is tenfold after a lifetime.
Your hands go to his face, mirroring him as you two stare at each other. He’s waiting for you to accept what he is asking, eyes moving back and forth slightly like he is trying to read your response. You sigh deeply, swallowing the pill he wants you to take before you pull him down to your lips to seal your acceptance.
He grunts in surprise, but shortly after melts against you. It’s a kiss molded into words, one that says “thank you” and in kind says “I’ll see you after this is all over”. It’s a kiss that says even when there truly is no time left, there is always time for this, for you, for him.
You pull away, eyes watering as you look at the man who will ultimately become your world and your savior in ways you can’t begin to fathom. You give him one more good look, one more stroke of your thumbs against his facial hair, before dropping your hands to surrender.
“You come back to me safe,” you assert. “I will do as much as I can from here.”
Logan responds by kissing your lips again, placing three quick kisses in succession before standing up to run off towards the mess. You peek over from your hiding spot, and you see two of the Sentinels on the ground in its robotic guts. You hear Hank roaring to your left, seeing him fly to the ground onto his back. The Sentinel he was fighting approaches, armed and ready to fire.
You clench your teeth as you put your arms out, the wounded one shooting signals to your brain that it aches terribly. However, you push through, focusing on the Sentinels mechanics and the timely energy around it. You watch it slowly come to a stop, and you see Hank look your way before you nod your head to tell him to get the job done.
You watch him spring into action, hands digging into the skull before ripping the head off. You let go, with the Sentinel now inactive, and turn to see Logan with his claws out digging into the chest of another one. His clawed fists go in and out over and over, the automaton down.
You go back and forth between Hank and Logan, ensuring them the time they need to defend themselves safely. It’s a smooth rhythm, and you think things are going well, but then you see Erik appear a few feet away from Logan with metal pieces floating in the air. You go to stop Erik in his tracks, but then you hear running in your direction.
“Run!” You hear Hank yell, and you turn to see him sprinting away from two Sentinels.
“Shit!” You curse, and in the blink of an eye you are running with him, bullets hot on your trail.
You run with purpose, dodging whatever the Sentinels sent your way, but your attention was focused on Logan, who was cutting away at any metallic pieces Erik threw at him. It was a dance, every step forward meant a step back, and from what you were witnessing Logan was the better dancer. However, Erik has always been good at catching up.
The Sentinels are gaining ground, and you knew something had to give. They were doing what they were created for, and they wouldn’t stop now, not at this rate. You look at Hank as you both push on, and he looks back at you as he feels your eyes on him.
“We need to split off!” You yell at him. “You go towards that car over there, and I’ll go the opposite way.”
You both diverge, running away from one another in the hopes of confusing the Sentinels. You don’t hear bullets in your space anymore, but it causes you to look and see Hank surrounded. You go to stop them, but then a gasp shoots from your lungs as you feel metal wrap around your wrists. Next thing you know, you are hanging in the air.
You are thrashing, wrists bound tightly. You see Erik approaching you, and you panic but not because he is approaching you. It’s because you don’t see Logan.
Fuck, where’s Logan?
“I’m sorry, my little timelord,” Erik says with a hint of an actual apology. “This is what happens when you don’t choose a side.”
“I did what was best for me. No one else,” you grit out. You can feel blood start to trickle down your arm, the stretch opening your wound further.
“I guess you’ll see how that turns out for you.” Erik sets you onto the ground with a thud, and suddenly you feel metal coil around your neck. You start to feel the pressure against your throat, making your eyes bulge.
“No need to be scared, my dear. Just need you out of the picture for a few hours.” Your airways are getting crushed. Your hands are desperately trying to remove themselves from the makeshift cuffs, but to no avail.
The coughing fits start, lungs eager for some relief, but they cry out when none comes. It’s strange to feel your lifespan waning, yet have your mind linger elsewhere.
Please be okay. God, please let Logan be safe.
As if your prayers were answered, you hear him in the distance. You can hear him shouting your name, and you ache at the sound. You are relieved, yet there is a sadness that sticks in your foggy brain. It almost makes you think that soul bonding is an actual force within the universe because you can tell what he is feeling. You can tell he feels like he is witnessing your death a second time.
The bondage of metal weakens, air filling your lungs at full capacity. Your hands automatically go to your throat, rubbing the raw skin as you inhale and exhale. Your bearings are dispersed, and you work to gather all the pieces so you can see what is happening. It isn’t until you hear Logan yelling in pain, followed by grunts that rip from his gut, that you shoot up. Your eyes focus and what you see burns your chest as you let out a scream that processes faster than your mind can.
Metal rods pierce Logan’s body, curling into his legs and up his chest. They enter and exit like thread, and his facial expression is one of agony. His head turns towards you, his eyes screaming for you to look away and to run and never look back. However, your fears, your anger, your love for him is overcoming and it doesn’t take long for you to snap.
Your body screams as you move to your knees and throw your arms up, the aches telling you to stop wearing yourself further. Your power is straining, but your emotions are fueling the fire. No amount of pain will ever amount to the pain of losing Logan.
You slam your fists to the ground, a ricochet from the impact spreading. Time stops in motion, the waves of your power spreading and catching everything in its wake. The pain increases, but you don’t care about that. You only care about Logan.
Everything is still aside from Logan’s body shakes. You run to him, falling to your knees to get closer. Your energy is depleting as you hold onto time, making your mind race to figure out what to do to help him. Your hands keep going to touch the rods, but back away every time he shudders with discomfort.
“Logan, tell me what to do,” you plead. “Tell me what I need to do to get these out.”
“Fuck…” Logan is working his jaw, seemingly trying to calm himself down. “Try pulling on one.”
You nod, placing both hands on a rod buried in his back. You counted down from three, and with a deep breath you pulled as hard as you could. The second Logan started yelling though, you let go.
“Shit! Please stop!” Logan shouts, the metal rods excruciating.
“Logan, we need to get these out of you please.” You were starting to sob; your hands running over his neck and face to try and soothe him.
“Sweetheart, please,” Logan grunts, trying not to move too much. “I promise you this won’t kill me.”
“But you are suffering,” you whisper, tears staining your face as new ones form. “I can hold this just please. You have to push them out or something.”
Something changes in Logan’s face, a sense of realization as you watch his eyes widen. A broken laugh leaves his lips, eyes glossing. “I finally understand.”
“W-what?” You stutter.
“I desperately wanted to save you, and I couldn’t. You had begged me not to, and I couldn’t fathom it.” He starts to cough, groans filling the cracks. “But I understand now. I’m sorry for not understanding before.”
“Please don’t,” you choke. “That doesn’t matter. What matters now is getting these out of you.”
Your hands go to the rods again, but his hand grabs yours before you make contact. You are sure you look pitiful, especially as you aren’t one to beg. You guess when feelings get so strong, it doesn’t matter. Your heart is fully on your sleeve for Logan to see, and what you are showing is reflected in his pretty, glossy, hazel eyes.
“I need you to promise me something, sweetheart,” Logan says gently. “I need you to promise me that you will find me.”
“Where? Where will I find you?” Your voice wavers, unable to keep your emotions at bay.
“You know I can’t say, baby.” Logan’s hand squeezes yours, trying to be reassuring. “But you have before. I know you will find me again.”
You don’t know what to think of that. It could be years before you find him. Will it be right before the world goes to shit? Will it be in a decade or two from now? How can you go on living your life as normal when you don’t know when you will find him? Or how can you live knowing he isn’t right beside you?
“Don’t overthink this. Everything will be okay.”
You sniffle as you look at him, a tired smile on his face. A small laugh passes through your sobs. “Not very in character for you to be optimistic.”
“And it will be the last time you see me so optimistic for a long time,” Logan smirks. “But you can change that.”
You get on your stomach, moving so your face is level with his and kiss him one last time. It’s bittersweet, tasting him on your tongue. You hope you are conveying the answer he is looking for, one that tells him you promise to move heaven and earth for him. One that tells him you promise you are his, and no one will ever have you for as long as you both live. A promise that tells him you will find your way home to him, and you will bring him home to you.
You let go, breath wavering as you know what you are about to witness. Even with his reassurance, it will be hard to watch, and you know the tears will fall. It is inevitable.
“Baby, go find Charles. Make sure he is okay and stick with him. Once you find him, let me go.”
You nod, pecking his lips one more time before getting up to your feet. You look at him, taking in every detail that imprints your memory, making sure to never forget that the man before you is your soulmate for life.
“I love you, Logan.” You say with teary eyes.
“I love you. I’ll see you soon.” He smiles, before closing his eyes, preparing himself.
You quickly run off, afraid that if you didn’t you wouldn’t allow yourself to. You run over to the giant terrain of rubble where Charles was, and you see him lying there frozen like everything else. You maneuver into his spot, a tight fit with enough room for you to situate yourself. You look back out onto the field, and you quiver as you see Logan lying there just waiting as he suffers in pain. You look down, eyes squeezing tight before you snap your fingers, a heavy weight off your shoulders as you suck in a deep breath.
“Oh darling, when did you get in here?”
You open your eyes to see Charles, breathing heavier than usual as he lays in discomfort. You work to prop him up, holding onto him so he can sit up right. It is at that moment you hear yelling, and you look back out to see Logan in the air with Erik holding his metallic weight. You want to look away, unable to bear the sight, but they stay glued to them. Then, you see Erik flex his fingers.
As you watch Logan fly away, your lungs urge a cry to curl out into the atmosphere, but you suppress it. After everything, you have faith in him. He gave you the faith you needed to believe everything will turn out alright. Even as you watch Erik yank the bunker up from the ground and out the White House, you have faith that the future will be safe, because you won’t let Logan down. You have a promise to keep.
Logan has become your Orion; your guiding star. He has become your alpha and your omega. He is your sole mission in this life, and he is not a mission you plan to fail.
You will set things right, and you will find him.
Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY; Year 2023
The first time ever I saw your face…
Music. Soft, calming music enters his conscience. He’s heard this melody before in the same fashion, but that was forever ago, right?
I thought the sun rose in your eyes…
Logan stirs, his brain doing a leap and a jump from REM sleep as it tries to wake up. He has lived this moment before, as the music says he has. Is he back to where he started? Or is it something else?
And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave…
Where is he? The last thing he remembers was drowning. Metal pierced his body so deep he could taste it with freshwater. It should linger, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t taste anything abnormal. He’s on a bed. Did someone save him? Whose bed is this?
To the dark and the endless skies…
His eyes open, sunlight shining brightly as they adjust. The room is familiar, and it dawns on him that it’s because it is his room. Their room.
He turns to his side slowly, his body still adjusting to whatever the fuck it was he’s waking up to. He sees the little radio on the bedside table, the holographic globe spinning as the words “Golden Oldies” glide around it.
And the first time ever I kissed your mouth…
Holy shit… he did it.
Suddenly, the door opens, and nothing could have prepared him.
“Hey, sleepyhead!”
There you were in all your glory. You were dressed for the day: a tight and long black velvet skirt with a short black sleeve shirt and black combat boots. There are little crow's feet and bunny lines by your eyes and your hair has grown out. He is starstruck, and his heart is threatening to leap out of his chest.
You walked up to him, your legs touching the bed as you looked down at him. “I know I look good. No need to let the flies in.”
Logan shuts his mouth, moving to sit up. There are so many things he wants to say, do. But nothing will come out. All he can do is stare and bumble like an idiot.
“You know it’s nine, right? You missed your first class.”
His class?
“What?”
“Don’t worry, Lo. Your students got a little lesson from me about 70s music culture, so they weren’t totally out of a history lesson.” You say with a wink.
He doesn’t respond, eyes mesmerized as you walk over to the desk, putting away folders from what he assumes was the previous class.
“Can you believe these kids know nothing about the Ramones? Or even ELO or Fleetwood Mac? It’s blasphemous.” You shut the drawer, and go to lean back against the desk, smiling at him.
“I’ll get up, baby. Don’t you worry about me.” You say in a mock deep voice, pushing yourself off the furniture. “Last night must have really worn you out for you to sleep like the dead.”
You are giggling and Logan is on edge. You are here. You are alive. He was hopeful that would be the case, but to see everything come to fruition was a lot to process.
“Lo, baby, are you okay?” You are in front of him, moving in between his legs.
He can’t help himself. He has his arms around your thighs, pulling you onto his lap. His hand secures itself at the nape of your neck, bringing your head down to his so his lips can intercept yours. Your skirt has ridden up, scrunching up at your ass giving Logan the chance to mold his hand into the flesh. He kisses you with ferocity, needing everything from you.
“Logan,” you laughed between his kisses. “I can’t believe you want to go again after last night, you dog.”
“You’re here,” Logan groans against your lips. “My baby, you’re here.”
“Of course I’m here. Why wouldn’t I be?” Your hands scratch his head, and he simpers as his mouth attaches to your neck, sniffing your pulse point as he keeps you firmly against him. You smell so good, so much so he wants to soak you into his skin.
“You are acting so strange right now, baby. Are you sure everything is okay?”
Logan lays his head against your chest, listening to your heart flutter away. He could cry listening to it, the comforting sound creating a lullaby that will lull his sore head to rest. It’s different hearing it now, knowing that when he wakes up once more, you will be here. You will be by his side when he goes to sleep at night, and when he wakes up. He will share every sunset and sunrise with you, something he will never take for granted for even a second.
He feels your hands cradling his head, keeping it steady as he starts to rock you in his arms. “What are you thinking, Lo?”
He lifts his head to look at you, your eyes full of warmth. You are looking at him with such patience and poise. Your hands are still on his head, and he goes to move them to his temples.
“Shift my mind.”
“Logan,” you say, taken aback and unsure but he quells your worry with another slow kiss.
“Trust me,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I need you to understand what I am feeling right now.”
He shuts his eyes, hoping you will indulge him and he smiles when he feels the warmth at his temples spread. He thought his mind going back to his last memory of drowning would cause panic, but he is calm. Maybe it’s because you are able to keep him afloat as you rewind what played out.
It is short lived, but soon he feels your hands go down to the scruff of his facial hair. He opens his eyes and he sees the tears welling in your eyes with a smile.
“My God, you did it. You remember,” you choked out. Logan can’t help but smother your lips again before kissing your tears away.
“You did a lot of the heavy lifting, sweetheart.” Logan chuckles against your skin. “But most importantly,” he pulls away, hands going to your face to make sure you understand how sincere he is. “You found me. Just like you promised me.”
“I said I would,” you say through tears. “I was determined to find you. To share this life with you.”
This life. A life with all the good things and even the bad ones. A life that he gets to live with you. This new life: a second chance. With this second chance, he isn’t going to waste it.
“Close your eyes,” Logan says with a peck.
You shut them, and he carefully sets you on the bed for him to stand up. He rushes to the bookshelf, hoping that in this new timeline he was smart enough to have gotten the one thing that showed complete and utter devotion. Even more so, he hopes he hid it where he originally had.
He finds the royal blue spine, pulling it out to open to the first few pages before the hole within the book is revealed. His lips turn with a quiver, seeing the ring just as it was before. He picks it up, holding it out in the sunlight to watch the diamond sparkle and the gold ban shine. It’s simple but you were never one for extravagant things. After a life of running free, you wanted the simple life and that is exactly what he will give you.
He walks back around the bed, getting on his knees to settle between your legs as he spreads them. Your skirt rode up again and he can’t help but kiss your left thigh and give the other a squeeze. The sweetest noise comes from you, and it only makes him nip at the skin.
“God, you are such a tease.”
“I can’t resist,” he hums before lifting his head. He holds out the ring and with care takes your left hand in his right.
“Go ahead and open those pretty eyes for me.”
He watches your eyes flutter open, a gasp falling from your lips when your eyes fall onto his palm. Your fingers instinctively went to it, and Logan held it more towards you to let them grace the ring.
“I’ve thought about how I’ve wanted to do this so many times,” Logan starts. “So much so that I pushed it off until it was too late. I will not make that same mistake twice.”
“Logan,” you say with your fingers trailing to his face, as if telling him nothing is his fault. He knows.
“I know I have so much to catch up on and learn. There will be things I am not aware of. You may be different, and I may be different,” He takes the ring and your left hand, holding it near but not quite enacting the officiality. “But the one thing that will never change is how you will always be at the forefront of my mind because I am nothing without you. At the end of the day, I want to come home to you as your husband and you as my wife if you will have me.”
This is such a vulnerable moment, and there was a time where it would eat him up alive. However, being right here with you, proposing to you in this shared room under the light of the morning, encourages him like nothing else. Vulnerability with you gives him strength.
You are biting your lip, eyes watering again as you nod your head profusely. “Put that ring on my finger, handsome.”
He slides the ring onto your ring finger, settling into place perfectly. You held it up, and he watched as you admired the piece, the sparkle of the diamond reflecting in your eyes. It sparks you to look back at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and he notices you shift until your lower body pushes him onto the floor. Your arms bring him in, his head meeting yours as lips reconnect once more.
“I love you so much, Logan. I am truly the luckiest woman alive.”
All he can think is if you were the luckiest woman, then he is the luckiest man. One decision could have led to a world in which you didn’t exist or one where you two would just be specks living completely different lives. To have woken up in a new world, one that’s more promising, is luck after the hell he had experienced. Having you here in his lap, kissing him like he is the center of your universe, makes him weep with joy.
You are his world, and in this new life, rather than the world stopping, it continues to spin forward.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett smut#logan howlett angst#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett fic#logan smut#logan angst#logan fic#x-men fic#my fics
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𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | angus tully x reader (series finale)
read 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 and 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 first!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | angus has been waiting to see you again, but the more feelings get involved, the more complicated your affair becomes.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), mega angst but also fluff too, infidelity, boring old people parties, reader is still emotionally constipated and angus still has a breeding kink, but that's honestly it it's just a bunch of emotions so strap in folks!
Angus was pretty sure he broke some kind of record, with how quickly he ran back to his room after talking to you on the payphone.
He was sure that was exactly what you were picturing him doing— he’d made it pretty clear what he’d do once you hung up, and you’d made it pretty difficult to do anything else with the way you were talking. You’d been winding him up on purpose, of course; so yes, you could easily imagine him making a mad dash to his room and slamming the door— if you really ever thought about him outside of those phone calls.
That was the thing Angus couldn’t figure out about you. Well, there were probably a lot of other things than that, but it was the quandary he spent the most time pondering: does she think about me?
Whenever he mustered the courage to ask you something to that effect, you would either change the subject or give a half-answer. Something about how you had a dream about him the other night or how your parents asked about him— never what he was really asking.
But, frankly, at that moment as he shut his dorm room door and jumped into bed, whether or not you thought about him much was not as pertinent an issue. Right then, all he could think about was getting his hand around his raging boner; his mind was just playing everything you’d said to him over the phone on repeat.
I’m touching myself right now, you’d whispered in a sultry voice, I’m so wet, Angus— fuck, I’m so wet…
He’d never had to work so hard to keep a straight face on the phone before… he figured if anyone was really looking, they’d notice how red he was turning or how he kept shifting uncomfortably. And he told you just as much, which of course only encouraged you. Don’t want them to know, huh? you’d taunted. Don’t want the other boys to find out you’re listening to me get off?
And no, he didn’t— you were such a precious thing, the boys here didn’t even deserve to imagine you— but when you offered to stop if it was too distracting, he only found himself shakily begging for more.
As he quickly opened his khaki pants and gripping his cock, he hissed through his teeth; his ego could barely take all you’d said about that cock, about how thick and ‘perfect’ (you used that exact word, perfect, and he thought he might float) it was, about how you wished you could come around it right then instead of your fingers.
“It’s all yours,” he mumbled to himself, under his breath, not even really noticing he was saying it aloud. “You want it, baby? It’s all fucking yours.”
He groaned as he stroked himself, the precum that had been leaking from his tip for a while making everything even easier. Shutting his eyes tight, he pictured you, like he always did: all of you, everything, anything he could remember.
You ever think about me? you’d asked him over the phone— and he’d blurted out his always before he even realized you meant while he was getting off. It was still true, but more specific than necessary. He craved to hear you say it: I think about you too. But he didn’t ask, and you just went back to moaning while you rubbed your clit— which, apparently, was already swollen and throbbing— and, well, he wasn’t strong enough to interrupt that.
“Fuck,” he grunted, deep in the back of his throat, finally letting his pace pick up until his hand was a blur: after all that anticipation and all that waiting, there was no use trying to hold back now. It wasn’t like you were here to worry about him coming too fast, even though you’d still maintained you found it endearing when it happened.
He repeated your voice in his head, the moment that had made him worry he would blow his load in his trousers before he could even get off the phone and back to his room: I’m gonna come for you, you’d warned him in the most beautiful moaning voice, Angus— I want you so bad, oh god— I’m gonna come for you, fuck…
His lip caught between his teeth, his hips rocked up into his own palm. “Yes, fuck, baby,” he panted, “I— fuck!”
He tried to conjure in his mind how it had felt to come inside you, but he knew even his vivid imagination could never really capture the feeling; nothing could even come close. Still, remembering it and letting himself indulge in his strangest fantasies for just a moment sent him over the edge. His face flushed suddenly as he came in long, heavy pulses, the back of his free hand falling over his open mouth yet doing little to suppress his moans.
It was intense— it was certainly better than his orgasms usually were when brought on by himself— but it only satisfied him for a moment. The moment he was finished, with a deep breath in and his hips relaxing back down onto the mattress, he wanted more— he wanted you.
His heavy eyes glanced to the side, trying to remember what it felt like to lie next to you. He’d never felt lonely after jerking off before he met you; now getting off seemed to bring a new wave of heartbreak each time.
When he shook off the thought and looked down at himself, he frowned as he realized he’d ruined his own shirt doing that— not that he could fully bring himself to regret it.
No, his regrets only really began a few weeks later, when the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind finally got the better of him.
It was the middle of the night when he wrote it, after he woke up from a dream of you that he just couldn’t shake from his mind. After checking that his roommate was fast asleep, Angus carefully slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the desk, and pulling out a box of cards and envelopes from one of the drawers. (He thought he’d never use them when his mom sent them with him at the beginning of the year, but a lot had changed since then.)
Something about the ungodly hour made him more honest— or maybe just more shameless. He wrote a frantic ramble, everything he’d wanted to say to you that he’d never had the courage to blurt out over the phone; all the feelings he’d felt since that incredible night in the backseat of your car, which he’d assumed would fade… which he’d tried to convince himself would fade.
Unfortunately, even the adrenaline of writing down the thoughts of you he’d been poring over for over a month wasn’t enough to overpower exhaustion: he awoke the next morning slumped over the desk, the pen still uncapped and fallen a few inches from his hand, the letter left folded open.
He awoke to the sound of someone’s door shutting down the hall, specifically; jumping and blinking quickly, he looked at the window— it was morning, though still quite early— and then at his roommate who was, thank god, still asleep.
Angus looked back at the letter in front of him, only making out a few words in his brief glance, before his cheeks began to heat up and he quickly folded it shut. As more footsteps moved through the hall, the boy in the bed nearby stirred and grumbled to himself, and Angus quickly snatched up the letter and shoved it in his book bag before he was caught red-handed.
Ironically, that little commotion was what actually got the other boy’s attention. “What are you doing at the desk?” he asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.
“Oh, I, uh— I had to do some late night cramming,” Angus explained nervously, “that big Geography test coming up and all…”
The half-awake boy seemed to notice for a moment that the story didn’t really make sense, on account of the empty desk, but he simply shrugged and tossed his blanket aside to get up as well.
For the rest of the day, Angus couldn’t think straight— and not just because of his mediocre rest and achy back from the absolutely terrible sleep posture he’d had. He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, even if he honestly couldn’t remember for certain everything he’d said… he couldn’t stop wondering if he should send it to you. He almost didn’t want to read it again first— he wanted you to read it in its most authentic state, he wanted to mail it before he chickened out just like he had when you said you two could just stay casual. Even if it made his heart race and his palms especially clammy, Angus decided in the middle of that goddamned Geography test that he was going to mail that letter tonight after dinner: he was finally just going to man up and tell you.
Of course, something went horribly wrong along the way: he made a fatal mistake. Looking back on it, he couldn’t tell for certain if his mistake was falling for you in the first place, or writing the infamous letter, or shoulder-checking Kountze without holding on tight enough to his bag.
The argument that happened beforehand was petty and forgettable, even if it gathered a small crowd of Kountze’s friends, but it ended with Angus trying to walk away a tad… aggressively, and with Kountze grabbing him by the strap of his bag which not only knocked Angus off-balance but spilled the contents onto the floor of the dorm’s shared room.
Everyone saw the books and papers hit the ground; everyone saw the off-white cardstock land right on top. Angus reached for the letter quickly, but Kountze beat him there, and held it back with a snicker.
“Well, well,” Kountze tutted proudly, “what’s this?”
“H-hey, don’t read that,” Angus warned, hoping the seriousness of his tone would somehow affect the other boy— but, obviously, it did not. Kountze started to open it and Angus instantly made a dive for it, only to be stopped by three other students who apparently were curious as well about the letter. “Don’t fucking read that!” Angus demanded.
“Oh god, it’s to a girl!” he realized. “Do you have a girlfriend, Tully?”
“I swear to god, Kountze, if you fucking read that—”
“I miss you,” Kountze began to read aloud as Angus thrashed around to try to stop him, “I miss you so much I don’t even know what to say.”
The boys holding Angus back were enraptured as Kountze read the letter; “Do you guys pay this much attention in class?” he mocked them, though they were ignoring him completely as they waited for the other boy to keep reading.
“I feel like I can’t breathe without you— aw, Tully, you’re a poet,” Kountze mocked with a smile. Angus’ heart raced as he remembered what part of the letter came next. “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and your smile— Jesus, this is some really sappy shit— or what it’s like talking with you for hours, or how it feels—”
He stopped, and Angus froze, and after a moment the group of boys started demanding the conclusion. “What— what does it say?!” “Read it, Kountze!”
“How it feels to be inside you,” Kountze continued with wide eyes, staring at Angus’ bright red face as the other boys began to react loudly.
Angus renewed his struggle against the kids holding him back, but even though he was taller than them, he was severely outnumbered. “Stop— that’s personal!” Angus demanded to no avail.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my hand after having you,” Kountze continued with a laugh. “From what I hear from your roommate, Tully, your hand is treating you just fine.”
“Shut up,” Angus hissed, but his words had lost their bite as his humiliation grew.
“I should’ve told you before I left—” he started, but finally Angus found some new strength within himself to shake off the boys holding him back: he dove at Kountze and took him down, scrambling to snatch the card away. He was going to be satisfied with just that, but of course Kountze still had to open his mouth, even when Angus had him pinned. “Jesus, Tully,” he scoffed, “how ugly is this chick that you got her to sleep with you?”
Angus brought a fist swiftly down to Kountze’s nose, who groaned in pain and held his face as Angus got up and ran away. The other boys let him pass, thankfully, and Angus wasted no time getting to his room and slamming the door behind him.
Defiantly wiping a tear from his cheek, Angus took a quick look at the letter— wrinkled, stained and scuffed from the fight with Kountze— and crumpled it up, tossing it into his wastebasket before throwing himself onto his bed and hiding his head under the pillow.
He was stupid to even write it, let alone consider sending it; it was no use, you obviously didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about you. You were the one who said it should just be what it was— a fling. But Angus felt like he’d been flung directly into hell, the way it tore into his chest to imagine you didn’t really want him.
Even if he never read the letter again that day, he remembered how it ended— and it was the part he couldn’t get out of his mind even when he wanted more than anything to forget it all.
Is this what love feels like?
//
It reminded you a lot of that dinner over Christmas break, except somehow, it seemed like he was staring at you even more. Shouldn’t he have gotten that out of his system a bit by now?
But then again, maybe you should’ve been more used to it, since it had been over an hour of picking away at this quail dinner, and he’d barely taken his eyes off of you. Something about him looked different; it was basically impossible that he could’ve visibly aged in just a couple months, and yet he seemed like he was carrying just a bit more age on those thin shoulders. Maybe it was just the slight five-o-clock shadow over his jaw— but, no, there was a different look in his eyes, too—
Realizing you were, in fact, staring back at him, you quickly snapped your gaze back down to your plate.
You’d been wanting a chance to talk to him before this dinner, to hopefully prevent exactly this issue, but once the dinner ended you found yourself avoiding him. Of course you weren’t ready to talk to him— of course you had a million thoughts in your head and half of them didn’t even make sense.
For once, you actually tried to talk to all of your parents’ snooty friends, repeating the same answers over and over about how you were going to graduate school in the fall and how you were looking forward to your family’s Paris trip in the summer and all that jazz. It was worth it to keep Angus off your back for a moment, even if you could still feel his eyes boring into said back from time to time.
Midway through a mind-numbingly boring conversation (if something so one-sided could be called a conversation) with the Gordons about renovations they’d done on their summer house, you glanced around the room over your shoulder and noticed that Angus was apparently absent. His parents were still there, sitting on a couch— that is, his mom and stepdad— so he couldn’t be far, but out of view he was far enough. Figuring he’d gone to the kitchen or the restroom, you figured it was the perfect time to disappear into the downstairs bedroom and, hopefully, hide out for the rest of the party. Excusing yourself quickly, you made a polite dash for the other end of the room.
And yet, somehow, he appeared out of thin air; as you turned down the hallway, only a dim lamp on an antique credenza lighting your way, you heard Angus’ hushed voice behind you. He laid his hand on your shoulder, and the moment you turned to face him, he was on you— his weight pressed you into the wall and you felt trapped in a way that was annoyingly pleasant.
“God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing you hard and sudden; you whimpered a little, nearly melting into it, before you pushed him back at his shoulders.
“A-Angus, wait,” you sighed. “You, um… you didn’t call for a while.”
“Oh,” he mumbled, “um, I’m sorry— I just got busy with midterms and stuff— but I really wanted to!”
He moved like he was about to kiss you again, but you kept your hand on his chest to keep him away. “I wanted to tell you…” you trailed off.
“Tell me what?”
“You remember Brian Stevenson?”
“Oh— um, yeah, I guess so,” Angus frowned a little, clearly confused by what seemed like a non sequitur. “I used to go over to his house when I was little, although it was just to play with his little brother, but… yeah, I remember him.”
“I’ve been sorta, y’know… going with him,” you explained, hesitantly meeting Angus’ gaze just in time to see the most terrible sadness cover his face.
“O-oh,” he choked out, quickly stepping back from you and shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah…” you mumbled, twisting your loafer-clad foot on the carpet nervously. “It’s just, you know, he asked me out a couple weeks ago, and ever since then—”
“So is he, like, your boyfriend?” Angus pressed. You nodded. He looked away. “Right— that’s… cool. That’s cool.”
You bit your lip slightly, hating that he wouldn’t look at you all of a sudden. “Angus, it’s just that, you know, we said—”
“Right,” he interrupted sharply. “Right, I remember what we said— what you said, that we weren’t— you know. That it wasn’t anything.”
“I didn’t say that—” you tried to correct him.
“You said you were mine,” he added suddenly, making your eyes widen. “Did you even mean that?”
“I— Angus, come on,” you laughed nervously. “That’s… that’s just something people say…”
He scoffed, and looked to the side as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek; contempt looked sort of good on him, you thought, except that it was directed at you. He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were watering.
“I’m sorry,” you began but he cut you off right away.
“No, don’t do that,” he shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor. “Don’t lie to me anymore.”
“No— I really am,” you tried to assure.
“Hey, it’s fine,” he insisted sharply. “It’s— you know, it is what it is. It was just one of those things.”
“If it’s fine, then look at me,” you pleaded. He didn’t. And for a long moment, the two of you stood there, still and silent.
“It’s fine,” he repeated softly, turning on his heel.
“Angus, wait,” you hissed, not wanting to raise your voice with all the guests not too far away— of course, it was fruitless, and he briskly blended back in with the crowd.
Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands. That wasn’t how you ever wanted this to go, you never wanted to hurt him; honestly, you’d assumed he’d be irritated, but not… sad. Not devastated. Of course he would prefer to be getting laid, but you figured he wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some other girl to screw around with— sometimes, you’d wondered if he already had.
It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be casual, it was supposed to be fun. You couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done, or anything you’d ever felt, that was less fun than this.
//
It made a strange sort of sense that the next time you saw him was at another party. Of course, this party was entirely different from the last one: for one, it was hosted by your boyfriend, and there sure as hell wasn’t any quail. There was a lot more alcohol, though.
You were hanging off to the side, not feeling quite up for mixing in with the crowd as they danced to the record Brian had put on. Even if they spared you from the same boring questions that your parents’ friends bombarded you with, they were uninteresting in their own way as every conversation seemed to come back to politics or pot.
Brian startled you a bit by coming up beside you, resting his hand on the small of your back. “Hey,” he greeted, and you smiled up at him. Your eyes lingered on his face— he looked… grown up. It was probably just because he had a beard; he certainly didn’t always act grown up, but overall, Brian was perfectly acceptable. He’d asked you out, he’d actually had the bravery for that, so that was a great head start.
You tried to shake the thought out of your mind, looking away from him; it wasn’t a head start because this wasn’t a race. Who, after all, would he be racing against?
For some reason, your eyes turned to the front door— and you bit your lip as you saw Angus coming inside, slipping off his coat and looking around the room (for you, presumably). He looked even more haggard than before: a little pale, eyes sunken and dark, and he definitely hadn’t shaved since you saw him.
Brian looked to find where you were staring, and frowned slightly. “Who’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, um— Angus Tully, his parents are friends with mine, I used to babysit him when he was a kid.”
You knew that wasn’t really what he was asking, so you weren’t surprised when he got to the point more directly: “What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, hoping Brian wouldn’t somehow figure out that your heart was racing.
Brian’s hand moved up to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, just as Angus noticed you and hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd to come face-to-face with you.
“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice raspy and hurried as he took a quick glance at Brian in his peripheral.
“Um— sure,” you agreed awkwardly, not sure which answer would be less suspicious. Of course, when you glanced at Brian, he just looked mildly annoyed— bored, even. You realized in that moment that you didn’t need to worry about him suspecting you and Angus of anything, because he barely registered Angus’ existence: he certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him as some kind of sexual threat.
“Privately,” Angus added— and that actually got Brian’s attention, though he seemed more aware of your discomfort than anything.
“Anything you wanna say to her, you can say in front of me,” Brian assured firmly, and Angus swallowed anxiously— it was obvious from the bob of his Adam’s apple.
“Actually, uh, somebody was looking for you out front,” Angus told him. “Something about a keg getting delivered to the wrong house?”
“Shit,” Brian hissed, dropping his hand from your shoulder and looking towards the door again. “Fucking idiots…”
Having made quick work of Brian, Angus put his attention back on you. “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.
“W-we can just talk here,” you tried to say, but he was already grabbing your wrist and guiding you out; why did your heart still skip when he touched you?
Once he’d taken you through the kitchen and out to the back porch— where you could still hear the music and chatter, but it was much quieter— you spoke.
“Angus, I really am sorry about— you know— but you can’t just—” you started.
“It’s not over yet,” he insisted, surprising you with his intensity; you leaned back against the wooden railing, and he stood just a little too close with those dark brown eyes piercing through you.
“If you tell me you’re happy with Brian, I’ll leave you alone,” Angus decided, puffing up his chest a bit.
“I’m happy with Brian,” you said sternly.
A brief moment passed. “Okay, I lied,” Angus admitted.
“Jesus,” you hissed.
“But only because I don’t believe you!” he explained. “We were so good together.”
“Yeah, we were,” you admitted, “but… it’s over now.”
“No— it’s not. It can’t be!” he insisted with a whine, and you scoffed as you shook your head.
“Angus, you’re being childish,” you scolded.
“Oh, don’t say that,” he grimaced. “Don’t hold that against me— I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Of course you’re not— but you’re not thinking clearly.”
“Damn right I’m not!” he spat. “You’re all I could think about, for months! Months, I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head! And not just the, you know, the dirty stuff— everything. Every moment I spent with you, every dumb thing we talked about for hours, every time you laughed at one of my shitty jokes—”
“Angus, please,” you breathed, glancing down; you could only take so much of this, and you worried he was figuring that out.
“Does he make you laugh?” Angus pressed, stepping a bit closer to you. “Does he make you feel special? Does he make you come?”
“Yes,” you said sharply, “he’s great, okay? I’m happy— so please just stop fucking this up for me.”
“Okay, fine,” he conceded, “you’re happy, I believe you. But… but what about me, y’know? He doesn’t need you like I do.”
Your face warmed up and you crossed your arms tighter, staring down at the ground.
“Of course he likes you— who wouldn’t? But he couldn’t even imagine how I feel about you— how long I’ve been thinking about you. I mean, I’ve wanted you since I was a kid! You’re my dream girl!”
“That’s— that has nothing to do with me,” you tried to explain. “That’s a fantasy!”
“But it’s real, baby,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to gently hold your arms at either side. “It’s so real, you know it is.”
You didn’t even have the heart to deny it— or to tell him not to call you that. You knew if you looked up at him, you wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore; he must’ve known that, too, because he delicately lifted your chin until you met his gaze.
And then he kissed you: tender, sweet, and shameless. He didn’t care if anyone saw, if anyone knew— even Brian. You, on the other hand, still cared enough to try to stop him; but even you couldn’t resist a kiss like this, and you found your hands pulling him closer as quickly as they’d tried to push him away.
He took you home, without another word about what this meant or where you stood with each other. You snuck him into your room and he climbed into bed with you and he touched you like he’d been waiting a lot longer than just a few months for this moment. Frankly, you were beginning to realize that you’d been waiting a lot longer for this, too.
Before, Angus had always been talkative during sex— sometimes annoyingly so. But this time, he didn’t say a damn thing; neither of you did. And yet, somehow, just by the way he looked at you, just by the way he held you, just by the way he moved inside you... you felt like you heard more than you ever had.
//
You sat next to each other on the bench, staring forward into the dark treeline ahead— there was still a layer of frost around their roots, and a new snow had begun to fall even if it wasn’t cold enough for it to stick on the pavement. You tried not to look at him too long, in case it made this any harder, but you did appreciate that he seemed a bit more put together than he had the last time you went a few days without seeing him. He was clean-shaven, too… is it wrong that you kinda missed the stubble?
“Thanks for, you know… giving me a couple days to think about it,” you mumbled, and he nodded.
“I thought you might have somewhere better to be on a Friday night,” he said— trying to lighten the mood a bit, you could tell; trying to make you comfortable.
“Well, even if I did, I think this needs to be done,” you explained, and he pressed his lips together a bit.
He waited patiently, though, for you to break the silence and explain yourself, even if he didn’t seem too surprised when you did it.
“It was a mistake,” you decided. “It was great, but it was a mistake— and I’d really appreciate if we could just… let it go. And if you didn’t tell Brian.”
“Okay,” he nodded slowly. “I wasn’t gonna tell him. But I still think you should dump him.”
“Well, that’s my decision,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.
“I know,” he breathed.
You could already tell, just by the way the next silence began, that he was going to interrupt it with something stupid… you just never expected how stupid.
“The thing is— I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look at you again as your eyes widened. “I fucking love you.”
“Angus, I— you can’t—!” you choked out, but he continued before you could try to think of a response.
“I know I do— don’t say I don’t know what that is, or that I’m too young or something stupid like that,” he pleaded. “I know how I feel, okay? When you miss somebody this much, when you think about somebody this much— what else could love be, but that?”
You sighed, looking away, and he moved closer to you on the bench. Even if you knew it was preposterous that someone else would be in the park at the end of the street at this time of night, you still fought the urge to look over your shoulder.
“Don’t tell me I’m crazy,” he breathed. “You love me too, don’t you? I mean— I thought you basically forgot I existed, but last night… that sort of thing doesn’t just happen, does it? It’s not… it’s not usually like that.”
“No, it’s not,” you admitted, “that was different.”
He perked up, smiling wide when you looked at him again. “Just say it,” he begged, “say you love me too— ‘cause I know you do.”
“I— Angus, it’s more complicated than that,” you explained. “We’re still— there’s Brian, for one thing… we can’t really go on like this, you know that.”
“I know— I don’t want to keep doing this. I want to really be together,” he replied. You tried to turn your body away from his slightly, but he grabbed your hands and held them tight until you looked at him again. “I’m almost done with high school— I’ll go to college where you’re going for grad school!”
You shook your head. “No, you can’t do that.”
“Just think about it: us, together— we could actually go on real dates, and go to college parties together, and, like, study out at the library— or, you know, whatever you college kids do,” he fantasized. You smiled, but shook your head again.
“We… we can’t do that,” you denied.
He frowned, and turned away from you, staring darkly at the ground. “I knew it,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “You’re embarrassed— you’re ashamed of me.”
“What?!” you blurted out. “Angus, no—”
“It’s okay,” he said in a terribly unconvincing way, crossing his arms. “I don’t blame you: I’m just some dumb kid from your hometown. You want a guy your age— not some random freshman… you want something better.”
“That’s bullshit,” you replied instantly, “you can do so much better.”
“C’mon, I’ll never do better than you,” he insisted.
Even though he’d misunderstood you, your heart still swelled a bit at the compliment. “I meant for college, Angus,” you explained, and he deflated a little. “You can do a lot better than a state school.”
“Well, I, um… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted nervously. “My grades are kinda… inconsistent. And I went to so many different high schools—”
“Who gives a shit?” you scoffed. “You’re fucking smart— way smarter than anybody else here. You act like an idiot sometimes, but you’re eighteen, it kinda comes with the territory.”
He frowned, but couldn’t exactly deny it.
“You deserve to go somewhere amazing,” you told him. “You need to go somewhere amazing— and do something amazing.”
For a long moment, he just stared out into the dark; until, suddenly, he whipped his head back around at you with a quizzical look on his face. “Wait— is that what this is all about?”
“What?”
“Do you not want to be with me because you think you’d, like, hold me back or something?” he accused.
You blinked quickly; something about the way he said be with me caught you off-guard— like it was a term much more mature than you had expected from him. Instead of answering directly, you just stammered. “Well, y-you’re young, and—”
He cut you off quickly with a laugh. “Oh my god! You think I give a shit about that?”
“No,” you shot back, “but you should. You realize how fucking dumb it would be to change your whole life for the first person you ever slept with?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds dumb,” he admitted, looking down at his feet swinging over the edge. “But what if it’s somebody that, you know, you think you really have a shot with? What if it’s somebody that you feel like you can’t live without? Somebody that makes you finally get all those songs you hear on the radio—”
“It only feels like this to you because you’ve never felt anything else,” you explained gently. “It’s your first love. It fades.”
“But I don’t want it to,” he said instantly, looking at you with the most heartbreaking eyes you’d ever seen. “God, I don’t want it to.”
You looked up at him as his hand brushed over your face, and felt tears welling before you could fight them off; he kissed you, in a way that you thought he might have never really kissed you before. In a way nobody had kissed you before, in fact. It wasn’t very long, but it felt like it might as well have gone on forever.
When he broke away, he kept his eyes shut, and he pressed his forehead to yours as his thumb stroked your cheek. “Tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he breathed, “please. Tell me it’s not going to end.”
“It has to,” you whispered back, watching his shoulders sink and bringing your hand up to clutch at his chest. “It has to end, someday.”
You took a shaky breath, watching a tear fall from his jaw onto your arm, feeling everything you’d held back finally breaking through as your grip on shirt tightened and your lip began to quiver.
“But it doesn’t have to be tonight,” you sighed.
Gasping with relief and joy simultaneously, he kissed you again, and pulled you closer at your waist, and wrapped you up in his arms tightly.
There was, of course, this nagging voice at the back of your mind— that maybe it didn’t have to end. And god, you wanted to silence that thought permanently if you could, because it had never done you any good. That hope had only ever led to pain before. But, without it, nothing would ever really have a chance: if you weren’t willing to risk the heartache, you’d never let yourself love Angus the way that he deserved and the way that you knew, deep down, you already did.
So, as he kissed you that way you thought people only kissed in movies, and whispered to you those words you thought people only said because they were poets and dreamers, you realized that maybe it didn’t have to end someday. Maybe he would spend the next several years of your lives convincing you that you didn’t need to protect yourself from your own feelings. Maybe he would actually have the patience to break down walls he never built, to fix wounds he didn’t leave. Maybe he was ready to give you something to believe in, something worth taking risks for while you were still young and reckless. Maybe he, like the oncoming equinox, would melt your ice so new life could grow.
Or, maybe, this feeling he had really would fade once he gained a little more life experience; maybe you would make too many mistakes for him to forgive. Maybe you would always be friends, or maybe you would have too much history to be able to see each other again. Maybe you would grow apart— maybe you would have to brace yourself for that, to sit next to him on a cold dorm room mattress as you both realized it just wasn’t working anymore.
The most important thing that you realized in that moment— that eternal moment in his arms, in the dark, in the last snow of Spring— was that it didn’t matter. It didn’t have to be forever to be perfect; it didn’t have to be the ending to be beautiful. He loved you. Even if you were still trying to figure out why, he loved you; and that was true, and real, and special. His love couldn’t fix you, but it made you feel fixable, and you hadn’t seen yourself that way in a long time— you could only dream that you might see yourself the way he saw you.
When you pulled back from the kiss for a moment, you smiled wide— you laughed, actually— and sniffled as he wiped your tears away. “I love you,” you told him, and even though he kissed you again, you didn’t stop saying it. You wanted to keep it on your lips until it didn’t scare you anymore; you wanted to keep your heart open, even if it made you vulnerable, maybe because it made you vulnerable. After all, you couldn’t ever be sure it wouldn’t come back to bite you… if you could, it wouldn’t mean anything.
Even though all you said to him was I love you, each one meant something a bit different. I trust you. I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m going to try. I’m sorry. I’m so glad I met you. I’ll never forget you. Please don’t let me go.
Somehow, you felt like he heard each one. Each time he told you that he loved you, though, you heard the same thing: I won’t let you go, ever.
//
Easter Mass was relatively pleasant, if a little too long. You did notice Angus sitting with his family, across the aisle and a few rows back, but you only gave him a quick wave before the service started and managed to resist glancing back at him after that.
The best part of Easter was always afterwards, though: you stood at the furthest end of the lawn, in front of the ivy-covered exterior wall of the chapel, as children ran around snatching up colorful eggs to collect for their baskets. Even if it was totally stupid, and irrelevant to the actual message of the holiday that the priest had just spent the whole service hammering in, you got a kick out of the fancy clothes and tiny dress shoes, the squeals of delight, the candy and toys in bright pastels. You were just thankful the weather had warmed up in the nick of time for all the festivities— indoor egg hunts never have quite the same effect.
Angus sauntered up beside you, sipping on a styrofoam cup of complimentary coffee, and you didn’t even look at each other, but you both smiled.
“They’re cute,” he stated after a little while.
“Yeah,” you agreed.
“Do you wanna have a kid?” he asked, and you gave him a hesitant glance only to find him looking right back at you— his expression was friendly, but neutral enough that you couldn’t read if he meant having a kid with him or just, you know, in general.
Deciding it must be the second one, you let out a soft, nervous laugh. “Uh, I dunno… maybe someday,” you offered, as non-committal as possible.
“How about right now?” he challenged, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough to stop you from glancing around to make sure nobody heard.
“Angus, fucking Christ,” you coughed. “Don’t joke about that.”
“I’m not,” he shrugged. “I mean, maybe I’m not being literal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being serious.”
“Well… we can’t,” you mumbled, looking out at the lawn again, hoping not to stand out too much. “Not here.”
“I know, I know,” he agreed, and the two of you fell back into a silence— an oddly comfortable one, even. You crossed your arms as you watched the kids run around and he kept sipping on his coffee. After a few moments, though, you spoke again.
“Meet you in the Sunday school room in the West wing in five minutes?”
“Yup,” he said, already turning to leave. You smiled slightly to yourself, glancing down at your white shoes planted in the grass. Even on such a delicately-manicured lawn, wildflowers were already springing up— little periwinkle diamonds scattered here and there.
When what felt like a reasonable amount of time passed, you made your careful and casual exit from the egg hunt to slip back inside. Once you were away from the crowds and on your way to meet Angus, you couldn’t stop yourself from running… and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, either.
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