#it sure was s good year but it went by in he blink of an eye for me

[accio-victuuri]

cpn catch-up: of interview clues, mushrooms, flowers 🍄🌸

at the rate cpns are raining down on us, you only blink and boom you missed alot. lol. so this is my attempt at catching up before weibo night comes in tomorrow.

gege had a really good interview for his portrait magazine interview! it’s nice to know his thoughts on certain topics. he is definitely calm and in a good space. the next month/s will be chaotic for him due to loch promotions but i’m confident he can deal with it 🫶🏼

for his wonderful interview, i wanna list down a few cpn-y points…

1. in the beginning he was talking about what changed and he said he was more composed/calm and self-focused. adding that before he was conscious of what others thought of him, but now, he relies more on his own judgment. this is ( atleast to me ) exactly how yibo has been lately, especially with being calm. you can totally see that during live events and in just the way he expresses himself.

yibo has always been someone who didn’t care much about what others think of him, and i’d like to cpn that this kind of attitude transferred to xz. their relationship also influenced that, they are secured with who they are so none of the outside voices matter anyone.

love that for them!

2. both of them exercising for strength and not necessarily to be thin.

3. i like how fans are playing up the real life yizhan AU of xz as a bakery owner and yibo as a race car driver.

4. there was a part of him talking about his best when he experiences challenges in acting. that kind of drive, they are so similar! they are not afraid to do things over and over again till they get it right. and no matter what happens, they know they did their best.

5. when xz said that he is lucky and happy 💕

of course there are a lot of factors that contribute to that. i will not disregard his own growth as a person from his personal experiences cause he went through ALOT for the past five years. but it surely helped that he has someone on his side to help him.

there may be more but as a fan this was such a good interview. proof that he is happy with where he is right now, it’s not perfect. he still has fears of failing but his disposition is so much stronger now.

from something serious, let’s move to clownery. the mushroom in the loewe shoot 😂😂😂 if you saw their ig post about yibo that was included. makes us think of the mushroom that wakes up at 4:00 AM

do they know about this? HAHAHAHAHAHA!

and lastly, yibo sent a flower arrangement to Hu Jun as a gift for his play. and we noticed that one of the flower/s is the same as what xz received before. is it a type that he likes to send for congratulations?

-END.

[the-cimmerians]

It's 2024. I have been participating in fandom for 40 years. This is a ramble commemorating some history I've experienced along the way.

In 1984, I attended my first convention, and made a beeline for the one long row of covered tables in the Dealer's Room that was, according to the whispered lore of my friends, 'the one'. "um", I said, very suavely and coherently, except for how it was totally the opposite of those things, "I'm here for the... for the, uh. For-"

"Come around here," the man behind the table said with exhausted ennui, so I went around, and he lifted up the table skirt next to him and pointed to rows and rows of boxes underneath the line of tables. "It's all under here."

It was all under there. Along with about five older ladies with glasses, graying hair, cardigans. Flipping through slash zines and chatting in whispered voices like old friends (which of course they were). I noticed one of them had the good sense to be wearing kneepads. I was still too young and ablebodied to need kneepads when crawling on a carpeted floor, but I immediately found her preparedness skills to be both impressive and hot. "You're new," one of the ladies whispered to me--a bit warily, which made sense. "Are you sure you're in the right place?"

In the faint light (the kneepads lady had also come prepared with a flashlight, additional practicality hotness points for her) I grabbed a comb-bound book with a heavy line art piece on the cover, featuring a musclebound Captain Kirk getting righteously and enthusiastically plowed by a stern-yet-ebullient Spock. "This," I said, pointing helpfully at the cover, like I was trying to make myself understood in a language I had only the vaguest knowledge of. "I'm here for this."

Outside at the convention, most of the attendees were wearing large homemade circular pins that shrieked 'K/S is BS!!!'1. But underneath the table, we reveled in the forbidden.

***

In 1985, I fell very hard for Starsky & Hutch fandom. Which was simply referred to at the time as 'the other fandom', because there were only two. We were upstarts. Many fannish elders predicted that it was just a phase.

***

The 'circulating library' was a massive stack of barely-legible pages that smelled strongly of mimeograph ink. When you were on the list, you would write stories while you waited for your turn, and when the big box was mailed to you, you would read everything (new finds, old favorites), add your own sloppily-typed or hastily-mimeographed stories, and then mail the whole thing to the next person. For me, at the time, it was an extremely expensive indulgence--but my favorite one.

***

By 1990, slash fandom had grown enough that I no longer knew everyone in it, which was both thrilling and a bit daunting. A young woman at a convention waited for me after a panel I was part of (I think it was 'writing impactful smut' or something like that), and said she had a question she didn't want to ask in a group setting. I'd heard that before. I said that's fine, go ahead and ask; and she came out with: "Why do you have to be gay?"

I blinked. "Is... that a problem?"

She looked annoyed. "Yes, because your stories are on all the recommendation lists and in all the top zines, but if you're gay and I read something you wrote and I get hot from it that makes me gay, and I'm not gay."

"Wow." I grinned, I couldn't help it. It probably made me look very predatory-dyke-about-to-score-a-toaster. Whatever, it was enough to make her back away from me fast.

When I thought about it later that night, I wondered what it would be like not to be the only queer person in slash fandom.

***

By 1997, slash started appearing on the internet. Many fannish elders claimed it was the death knell of slash fandom, or dismissed it as 'just a phase'.

***

Anyway, I wrote all this for myself as a commemoration of sorts, but if you took the time to read it--thank you. Love you, fandom. I always will.

1 In those days, m/m fandom was known as 'slash', which grew from the fannish shorthand where 'K&S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock having adventures or tribulations or what have you, and 'K/S' meant a story of Kirk and Spock getting it on (Kirk divided by Spock or Spock into Kirk--it was mathy fannish humor and I was into it then and I still am now). Slash was decidedly unpopular in the fannish world in 1984, and there was a concerted effort to force slash authors, artists, and fans out of 'mainstream' fannish public life. Hence, under the table.

[suksatoru]

010. CARNATIONS

It was all a blur.

Desperate arms wrapped around his frame the moment he stepped into sight. Touya shed more tears than he had in years today, the faces in the back of his mind that were beginning to fade away became crystal clear in an instant. Twin diamonds shine and leave a salty trail down his cheeks when his mother finally hugs him.

She cradled Touya's face in her palms as her fingers rubbed gently against his skin—telling Touya she was so proud of him, telling Touya he looked so healthy—telling Touya she was so happy to see him. Touya smiles when he's sad, and it was truly a sight to behold. His eyes had shards of gold glittering in them as they caught the afternoon sun's rays, and his smile was so handsome and authentic, it looked like the Gods themselves had carved it into his face.

Natsuo wasn't as 'tough' as Touya remembered him. Because the moment Touya cursed his brother out for getting taller than him while he was gone, Natsuo weeped like a newborn. Maybe he was mourning all those years growing up without having his older brother by his side—the years he spent as a teenager thinking he was getting older than his Touya-nii ever got to be.

Fuyumi was strong—she was able to hold Touya up all on her own when he crumped against her, pressing his cheek into the crown of her head as he thanked her for staying shorter than him. Her laughter is wet with tears, but it was just as sweet as he remembered. Natsuo's was too—just seeing them smiling at him felt like they'd ripped past skin and fleshed and pierced Touya's heart with a dagger carved with love.

Shoto's eyes flittered between his siblings and mother—watching them all stand around Touya as he swayed on his feet, unable to hold himself up as they all murmur quietly to each other—there weren't many words spoken, just the occasional sniffling and hiccuping sobs as they fussed over him

Shoto doesn't know when you intertwined your fingers with his to hold his hand, but he'll be forever grateful you did because his chest is so tight he doesn't think he can breathe right. His eyes move fast, rapidly blinking as he watches the scene in front of him unfold from afar

He's never felt more like an outsider than he did right now. He was watching his family show more emotion in this moment than he's ever seen in years. He looks to you for a moment, almost hesitating to step towards them all as his eyes are clouded with an unmistakable mist. You squeeze Shoto's hand encouragingly, and soon enough, he's slipping out of your grasp and gravitating towards Touya.

He's facing Touya's back right now, watching his older brother lean into their mother's palm as she kisses his hands before Shoto clears his throat—an attempt to catch their attention. He can see the muscles in Touya's back physically tense before he turns around. Touya's eyes catch yours first—before they slowly move to Shoto.

Shoto isn't a very good hugger. He's not really sure how to wrap his arms around Touya without it being awkward. Unfortunately—Touya also wasn't a good hugger. He stills when Shoto slowly wraps his arms around him, the younger boy's eyes closing as his face bumps against Touya's chest. Touya's words are stuck in his throat as his mouth goes dry, a strange feeling spreading in his chest as he looks down to see Shoto's ivory and ruby strands pressed against him.

Touya always thought Shoto had grown up to be a carbon copy of their father. He didn't know why, but he never really assumed Shoto may have grown to be a good kid until the war.

So, Touya tries his best. Wrapping his arms around the younger boy and letting out a shaky breath as his eyes squeeze close.

Rei went overboard with dinner. The table was covered with all the classics—rice, grilled fish, miso soup, pickled vegetables—everything and anything you could imagine. Rei was so proud when she saw the look on Touya's face, her heart soaring as her son muttered something along the lines of how good the food looked.

You were Touya's support through the entire dinner as he spoke. Most of the questions he got asked consisted of how he was feeling and adjusting. He answered all of them remarkably well, his voice even and smile calm as he ate his dinner

You sat in between Shoto and Touya, and you almost wish you weren't sitting between them when you watch Shoto lean over the table to look at Touya every time he spoke. It was like he was in a trance as he watched his older brother speak—if Touya noticed Shoto's lingering stare, he didn't say anything.

Shoto wanted to hear every word that came out of Touya's mouth. And luckily, everyone stayed at the dinner table well after dinner was finished. The conversation was nostalgic and calm. It was sad and maybe sometimes Touya would have to blink back tears, but God, he loved it all so much.

Rei was quiet for most of the dinner, save for soft smiles as she listened to Touya talk. Even when he was a kid, Touya talked a lot. She wants to ask Touya if he knows how he subconsciously leans towards you during the entire dinner, whispering things in your ear that have you fighting a smile

It was stupid little jokes he made whenever someone wasn't speaking to him—he'd jump so fast whenever he noticed the attention wasn't on him anymore as his eyes found yours. Unfortunately, Touya didn't notice how his mother's eyes never left him.

She saw it all. The way your eyes crinkled with a smile whenever Touya said something stupid, how Touya offers to fill your glass and how you and him get into a quiet argument on who gets the bigger piece of fish, both of you insisting the other gets the larger half. You two end up sharing, smiling with silent laughter whenever his fork clinks against yours

Rei knows Touya's kindness isn't because of her parenting. It can't be. Touya was an angry and mean child, one who lashed out often and couldn't get along with others.

She had trouble dealing with Touya, and Enji did nothing but worsen his condition. Her own inner turmoil had her mind falling apart, and she had been struggling with the man who was supposed to protect them just as much as Touya was.

You made Touya like this—calming the storm in his heart Rei thought would rage on forever.

When he was Dabi, Touya was even worse. She had seen the news, she knew her first born was alive and wreaking absolute havoc. Years ago, his supposed death had been her breaking point. And, oh, what she would have given to save him from his inevitable fate.

She failed Touya. She and Enji, they had both failed him. Not intentionally—she never meant to fail him the way she did.

But you had not failed Touya, and Rei was going to treasure you forever for unknowingly saving her family.

Rei hadn't experienced real love before. But the way Touya just looks at you lets her know that even if she didn't get the privilege of being able to know what it was like, her son did. And that alone is enough to make her happy.

"Mom?"

Rei is startled, turning to look at Natsuo when he places a hand on her shoulder, dishes in hand. Everyone's dispersed by now, and she realizes she's the only one still at the table.

"You spaced out again." Natsuo says, a sad smile on his face as he gently rubs his mother's shoulder. Rei's lips part as she makes a little 'o' with her mouth, before smiling softly

"Touya's in love."

Natsuo blinks once, twice, before his lip twitches upward. He slides into the spot beside his mother, leaning in closer as he takes a quick glance at you and Touya—who was marveling over the endless channels on the big screen TV that was placed in the center of the living room, your laughter flowing through the air at his excited commentary—he was pointing out all of his favorite movies as a kid.

"I know. Just...try not to say anything to them, okay? It's definitely not something either of them can pursue yet. Bringing it up in front of them isn't the best idea right now." He mutters quietly as Rei nods slowly, the gears in her mind shifting as she stays quiet in thought. Fuyumi calls Natsuo from the kitchen, asking him to bring the remaining dishes as he quickly stands up, following her voice.

Shoto pretends he wasn't able to hear Natsuo as he keeps his head low, piling the remaining dishes into his arms before strolling after his older brother. Of course, you had offered to help clean up like a good guest earlier—but Fuyumi had shooed you and Touya away before either of you got the chance, telling you to get comfortable in the living room.

Rei tilts her head to try and get a better look at you. Maybe she's getting ahead of herself, but Rei's thinking of the silver wedding band laying on the edge of her vanity. It was a ring that meant nothing, never had when it was slipped onto her finger

But it was a beautiful ring.

She wished it had been spent on a truer love. On something real and tangible, something as beautiful as the delicate diamonds encrusted into it. She zeroes in on your fingers, watching the way they curl around the TV's remote as you dangle it out of Touya's reach. He growls and grunts in an attempt to snatch it back from you, his laughter peaking through his facade easily as your squeals sound through the air

Yes, your fingers look like they'd fit her ring. She didn't ever think about passing her wedding ring down to one of her children, never even considered the thought. But...

For the first time in so many years, it was laughter that bounced between the walls of this house. It was beginning to feel like a home again.

You and Touya are dancing around such a fine line so carelessly.

Touya doesn't even know he's in love with you. He knows he cares for you, knows you've become the most important person in his life—he knows he loves you in some sense, but it took him a lot longer than he'd like to admit to realize he was in love with you.

He can see the cartoon's reflection in your eyes as you watch the TV right beside him. His body, simply put, was drawn to yours. You're pressed against his side, and he can smell you. You smell sweet, and he resists the urge to sniff you.

The thought is odd. He pauses, blinking at the TV screen but not even absorbing what's going on as his eyes slowly drag towards you. Did he almost sniff you, just now?

Okay. Touya was weird, he already knew that. But when has he ever wanted to sniff someone? That was just fucking weird. Suddenly, he starts thinking—and it feels like he's been carelessly missing the ON button in the back of his mind, and it had finally been switched on my some miracle.

He's had these type of thoughts before. Actually—he's had a lot of these thoughts before. He had just...ignored them. Too engrossed in any moment with you to truly acknowledge them.

Yeah, he wants to sniff you. He wants to know what shampoo you use, he wants to know your favorite meal—you know his, when does he find out yours? He wants to know if you have siblings like him, he wants to know if you take cold showers or hot showers, he wants to know if you like his family, he wants to know if you like him the way he likes you.

The realization dawns on him slowly, and Touya realizes he has never been more clueless in his life.

He likes you.

No, not like a patient liked their doctor. And not like how a victim liked their savior—it wasn't like that.

He liked you like he'd die without you, like his heart would cease its beating and he would genuinely be unable to feel any semblance of happiness again if you slipped away

He suddenly realizes you can't like someone that much. It was another feeling, and he was in deep.

"Aw, fuck."

You peer up at him through your lashes, a confused hum leaving your lips as you tilt your head towards him in concern

Touya looks down at you, a small smile splayed on his lips. He thinks, no—he knows he'll never love someone this much.

"You know, I forgot this sucker died at the end." He mumbles quietly, taking your chin between his fingers and tilting it towards the TV as a whine escapes your lips

"Touya! You spoiled it!" You pout, looking at the cartoon and huffing—what kind of kid's movie has anyone dying in it?!

"I'm kidding." He murmurs with a quiet laugh, watching relief flood your features moments later as you tuck yourself back into his side

"Good. I like that little guy."

"The cat?" He muses, leaning further into you as his breath fans your neck

He's so warm. So welcoming and gentle—and you can't even try and stop yourself from leaning further into him.

"Yeah. He reminds me of you."

The cat in question, was a grumpy little thing that spends most of the movie snacking on sweet treats—its belly round and happy from being loved so well. It was a silly little side character, but in an odd way, it reminded you of Touya's little mannerisms. The way it pouted and huffed and cracked the most absurd jokes the entire movie had you smiling ear to ear.

His fingers find your sides quickly, and you try to pry his hands off as he tickles your side mercilessly—adorable huffs of "Touya, everyone's sleeping!" escaping your lips as you try and muffle your laughter, covering your mouth as he pulls your hand away from your lips—saying he wants to hear you squeal and laugh for him.

You get him back, of course. But he doesn't even try to be quiet as you tickle his belly. He laughs loudly, straight from his gut and filled with so much joy that you can't bring yourself to stop

Touya has a really nice laugh, you think, watching him grin so wide—you think it must hurt to be smiling so much. He suddenly hooks a leg over yours, and the both of you roll off of the couch and onto the ground in your fits of laughter—and not once, not ever, has Touya felt more loved.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; something is cominggggg 👀!

tags!

@kawaiidemoneart @porusuniverse @starrmage @lilbeatlebear @bokukenmakuroo

@summercreolefanfictioner @dija200 @phtmmsqrde @sunaraii

@c-lunette @gh0stgirl333 @skullkittens @gurl-pls-evn-the-sharks-fear-me

@hawkwithsocks @suresnips @sugurusmoon @matchablossomsss @moonlitmorganite

@redr0sewrites @muimuiwisteria @sukunaspillow @starsryi

@eidolonwriter @dabislittlemouse @rueclfer @kelin-is-writing

@shugs1801 @imaginationmess

@lasa27 @sophiathefrog @etaerealboy @kooromin @sourbbyxo

@hvnares @ephmeraloblivion @lost-seraphiim @quokka-ina @jesuschrist2006

@stoned-anime-babe @qatiee @shadowsingers-redhood @alycat171

@21-princess

@xileonaaaa @rylerboi @blurryperrtymoonlight @mrcleans4headwrinkle @accidentpronedork

@exquisitenesss @miniatureempathknightpony @afterlife11

[24hlevi]

not sure which characters u write about for arcane!! but if you do male characters, could be anyone of your choice where they don’t get the hint you like them or want to take their relationship further (depends if u wanna do sfw or nsfw!!) :) tyyy!

for male characters i write for jayce, viktor, ekko, and silco! thank you for requesting 🫶

— TAKE A HINT

viktor (arcane) x gn!reader

warnings/tags: oblivious!viktor, confessions, fluff, sfw

you thought you were going mildly insane, having a crush on your friend as his second partner to jayce

to be fair, you kinda were, judging how no matter what you did in attempt to give hints just led nowhere

you tried talking to jayce on a few occasions, trying to get some advice on what to do, but he wasn't much help with relationship stuff as he claimed

you tried over and over again to get viktor to notice you more than just a friend, and every time, he couldn't tell

"hey," you say softly, slowly approaching viktor from behind with a hot cup of tea in your hands.

viktor turns his head as soon as he hears your voice draw him out of his work, and a small smile grows on his face. "good evening, yn," he replies.

"i brought you some tea," you set the cup down carefully next to his papers that were scattered along the table. "have you ate anything yet?"

"thank you," viktor responds, his eyes following your hand as you set the cup down. "i have not," he then shakes his head. "jayce tried asking earlier, but i wasn't quite hungry."

"would you like me to try and make you something?" you ask, looking down at him as you fiddle with your hands anxiously.

"mm," he hums, shrugging his shoulders lightly. "i would prefer your presence here with me. if you don't mind, that is."

"i don't mind," you shake your head, trying to fight the smile forming on your face. "just tell me what you'd like me to do."

"nothing," viktor answers, having you look at him with confusion. "you don't have to do anything, precisely. just your presence is enough."

"oh...okay,"

you still couldn't figure out how to get viktor to realize you had feelings for him, you couldn't believe how oblivious he was

after years of liking the male, he didn't ever seem to appear like he reciprocated those feelings, making you slowly give up as time went by

it wasn't until one early morning, that it all finally fell into place

viktor slowly made his way to the lab. it was early morning, the sun hardly peeking out from over the horizon as he hobbled through the hallway. this morning, he was already thrown a bit off his rocker. for he hadn't seen you yet since he woke up. normally, you would be awake and moving before him and jayce, so it was odd to not see you around as he walked down the hall.

entering the lab, viktor turns on the lights, and then stops in his spot. there you were. your body slouched against the table with papers messily filled with calculations that viktor was doing the day prior, seemingly asleep. slowly, he approaches you and stands behind you, silently looking at you. the sun is shining against your face, and viktor comes to the realization that he never paid attention to how much he liked looking at you. you looked so peaceful like this, and he felt an odd sensation in his chest as he peered down at you.

suddenly, you start stirring around, slowly opening your eyes to see viktor standing above you. "mm? viktor?" you groggily mumble.

seeing you wake up, viktor, as fast as he can, takes a few steps back, his face turning red at possibly being caught. "s-sorry," he stutters.

your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. did he just stutter? you rub your eyes with your hands before blinking a few times to look at him clearer. was he...staring at you while you were asleep? while this would be extremely creepy if it were anyone else, you couldn't help but feel somewhat flattered by his reaction. you take a look around and realize you're in the lab. "oh gosh, i can't believe i fell asleep in here," you drag your hands across your face. "i'm sorry, viktor. i was trying to finish what you were doing yesterday."

"it is alright," viktor says after taking a moment to calm his heartbeat from jumping out of his chest. he then realizes what you said, and his face contorts into confusion, looking at the papers on the table. "you didn't have to. i would have figured it out by this week i'm sure."

"i just wanted to help more," you admit with a short sigh. "ever since you and jayce started this new development for hextech...i feel like i've fallen behind." you look down at all the papers in front of you in shame that you still couldn't figure it out.

viktor's expression changes again, no longer confused but a soft look as he notices the tone in your voice change. you sound almost defeated, clearly upset about this. hesitantly, he places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up at him. "it is okay, yn," he starts, his tone soft like his expression on his face. "you being here is enough for me. you do not need to prove yourself, for i already know how smart you are. do not worry of hextech if you fear you are falling behind. i appreciate your presence more than anything else."

looking up at him, you slowly nod your head and stand from your seat. you don't know what to say, but thankfully for you, viktor continues speaking.

"i have noticed some...changes in my thoughts recently," he says slowly, as if he were choosing his words carefully. "while they are primarily filled with ideas of hextech and how we could evolve the future...they are also about you. i want to create something that will help our future, that will help your future. these past couple of weeks...i have thought of you more. i thought it was normal at first...but the more i thought about what i was thinking about i..came to a realization." he sees the way you look at him with subtle confusion on your face, and he hesitates before continuing. "i believe i may have some kind of feelings for you, yn."

your eyes widen in shock, looking at viktor as he explains his thoughts, and you're not sure what to do. "what?" you quietly let out.

"yes, it appears to be that way," viktor nods. "just now, i have confirmed it. i may not have noticed it fast enough, and i sincerely apologize if i am too late now, but i had to get this off my chest before it would ruin me."

"o-oh," you stutter, a fiery blush growing on your face. "you-you're not too late," you say finally. "i've uhm, had feelings for you for a while now," you admit.

hearing this, a smile makes its way onto viktor's face. "really?" he asks.

"yeah," you nod. "i thought you were never going to notice or were purposely ignoring my attempts."

"ah," he lets out. "i would never purposely ignore you, yn," he says, pushing some of your hair out of your face. "let's just say i am a bit slow when it comes to these things. i apologize if i ever gave you the wrong idea."

"it's okay," you reply.

"well then, shall we establish this whilst we finish these calculations?" he has a smile on his face as he speaks, dragging another chair to sit down beside you.

"yeah," you nod, smiling back at him.

"great."

[jyoongim]

Can I request and Alastor x reader where she was his wife when they were alive but she ends up in heaven while in her early 20’s due to being murdered on her way home from his radio station one night. She never knew about Alastor’s crimes but she finds out about the extermination at the meeting Charlie has with heaven and sneaks down during the next extermination not knowing if Alastor is still alive or not? Maybe some magic like reader singing No Good Deed from Wicked trying to prevent Alastor from being harmed or killed? Once they find each other I can’t imagine Alastor ever letting her leave again, not even to heaven. Can I request a bit of fluff and maybe NSFW to make up for the time spent apart? Thank you!

Title: Ruined Redemption 

Warnings: 18+! NSFW, angel!wife Reader, fem!reader, reader & Alastor married, mention of past life, mention of death, demon!alastor, fluff, creampie, rough sex, French, Heaven & Hell, am i missing something????

”You sure you dont want me to walk you home cher? I can wrap up right now” Alastor said as you pressed your soft lips to his cheek. You reassured him you would be fine. That you were perfectly capable of getting home without him escorting you.  “No no ill be fine promise. Just dont stay too late hmm? I would love to have my husband in our bed for once when the sun ain’t risin’” you said, glaring at him playfully. 

He chuckled, nodding ”Be careful on your way home cher, it ain’t safe for a doll like yourself to be roamin’ the streets at this time of night” Alastor said as you waved goodbye.

“I love you”

The stars twinkled in the sky as you stared up at them.

You blinked, raising a weak hand up to them.

 Blood.

You were bleeding. 

You had took a shortcut to get home and a man had grabbed you into a dark alleyway.

He tried to take advantage of you but you resisted, angry that you wouldn’t be a easy target he slit your throat so you wouldn’t cry out, leaving you to bleed out onto the cold concrete.

Your wedding ring shined at you. You let out a gurgle,

Alastor…

You use to think that people were lyin’ when they said your life flashed when times of death, but tears welled in your eyes as every memory of you and Alastor came to your mind.

The night you met Alastor was the last one you saw as you heaved your last breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

”Did you forget Hell is forever?”

You sat at the council meeting as the princess of Hell tried to reason with Sera. You were saddened that the Angels went down and executed the soul of the damned.

You thought the idea of rehabilitating souls was a good idea. 

You had waited years to see Alastor, but you quickly became concerned when each year he didn’t pass through those pearly gates.

Alastor was in Hell. At least you had hoped. 

You heard that the next extermination was soon and you plotted to descend to Hell to find your lost lover.

Alastor please be okay 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hell wasn’t as bad as you thought. 

You quickly found the hotel the princess hosted and knocked on the door.

”Oh why hello- wait you’re-” Charlie stuttered.

You gave her a smile. You must have looked ridiculous, an Angel at her door and with the extermination approaching.

”D-Do you know Alastor?” You asked, almost pleading that you hoped your lover was at her hotel.

She blinked and nodded, letting you inside.

”I thought your idea was bees knees by the way”you said as she ushered you to sit on a couch.

”W-Why thank you! But…how do you know Alastor?” She asked.

You fiddled with your ring. “Well you see I’m his-”

”Darlin’? ” a voice interrupted you.

You almost broke your neck turning around. You let out a gasp “A-Alastor?”

A tall red demon stood in the archway.

He was dressed in all red, save for the few black accents.

His face dawned shocked, though his smile never faltered. But you saw it was tense.

You stood up and approached him.

Theres no way this was your Alastor…

You subconsciously reached a hand to his face “A-Alastor…is it really you?”

He leaned into your touch, grasping your wrist softly

”Mon cher…”

Your eyes welled with tears and you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him as you buried your face in his chest.

Still in shock, Alastor wrapped his lanky arms around you.

Whiskey and sandalwood. That was the scent that flooded your nose, same scent that always clung to him.

”I t-thought i would never see you again” you cried.

”what are you doing here?” You asked

He smiled “I should be askin you the same thing. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be down here”

You didn’t even realize that an audience had gathered.

”what’s white wings doing down here?”

You eased your grip on him, actually taking him in.

He looked nothing like your Alastor, but you knew it was him.

”Oh baby what could you have done to land yourself in hell?” You asked.

The tall spider gave a laugh “Freaky face there is one of hell’s most powerful Overlords toots”

Alastor glared at him before looking down at you “Its a rather unpleasant story my dear, but I guess I should tell you now”

And tell you he did.

You wouldn’t have thought that your Alastor was the one who had once terrorized your city.

Your husband was…You had married a killer.

”regret marrying me doll?”he asked at your shocked face.

You shook your head “Never” you gave him a smile “But you’re at a hotel that promotes soul redemption?”

He laughed “Just a little investment of mine to pass the time. I have no notion to redeem my soul”

This caused you to panic “B-but the extermination!”

He caressed your cheek “Don’t worry about that, I wont let anything happen”

You huffed, deciding to trust him “Well aren’t you gonna introduce me?” You asked turning to give your full attention to the bunch.

”Why of course! Everyone this pretty doll is my darling wife” he beamed

”WIFE!?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor took you on a tour of the hotel. You walked, arms interlocked as he showed you around.

You laughed when he brought you to his radio tower “Just couldn’t let it go huh?” You had said, earning a laugh.

He led you to his bedroom. You marveled at how it suited him. There was a swamp that split up the room.

A true southern man you sighed.

You sat on his bed, taking it all in.

Alastor couldn’t believe that you were here.

He thought that he would never see you again.

He had figured that you were in Heaven after a few decades.

You were his sweet little wife. You were the only good thing in his life.

He absolutely lost his mind when he was told you were killed on your way home.

He should have walked you home.

Your death weighed on him for decades. Even in death.

But here you were.

You hadn’t changed a day. Well the wings and halo were new.

”Mon cher…” He approached you, voice dropping the static and kneeled before you. 

You were real and you were here.

His arms wrapped around your waist as he laid his head on your lap.

Your hands found his hair, massaging his scalp. You tickled at his ears and giggled when they twitched.

”je suis désolé mon amour. je suis tellement désolé que tu aies connu un sort aussi cruel. si j'étais juste rentré à la maison avec toi... je suis vraiment désolé” his heart was pounding as he nuzzled into your stomach.

You smiled at his words. You cupped his cheeks, lifting his face to yours “it wasn’t your fault Al. Things happen. All that matters is that we are together again. ‘Ill defy death itself to be with you," were our vows remember?”

Alastor moved quickly. He gently pushed you onto your back as he climbed over you.

”tell me…tell me our vows again”

He tugged at his bow tie and stripped off his jacket, you retracted your wings as you watched him

”A-Al?” You whispered, suddenly breathless.

”please…tell me our wedding vows”

”From the moment our paths crossed, it was always you.

It was the moment we met that I saw everything. 

Our future.” 

He unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“You were everything i ever dreamed of and became so much more. 

I love you.”

He leaned down to kiss you

“Heaven and Earth cannot compare to how much I love you. 

Through the good and bad, Ill always love you.

 I give my heart and soul to you to cherish for an eternity ”

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he peppered wet kisses along your neck

”Ill reap the Earth to and tear the Heavens apart to remain bound to you”

You gasped as he nipped your shoulder

”This love I give can never die. For Ill defy death itself to forever be with you.”

he buttoned your shirt, brushing a thumb over your nipples. A shiver ran through you.

”For death itself could never part us. 

I am yours forever and always and ill raise Hell if death tried to part us ”

You moaned softly as he took a nipple into his mouth.

“Alastor…”

The rest of your clothing was quickly removed.

You almost wanted to cover yourself.

When was the last time you were intimate with Alastor?

You felt like you were on your wedding night all over again.

”You’re as beautiful as when you were alive my dear”. He whispered, spreading your thighs.

You jumped feeling his hand skim your exposed clit.

You were embarrassed with how wet you were.

he still had that effect on you, even in the afterlife.

Your breath hitched as he dipped a finger inside you

Alastor groaned, you felt just as you did before.

You pulled him to your face, your face flushed and eyes lidded. Your soft lips met his as he worked your cunt.

”Alastor please” you whined against his lips.

You were always such an impatient thing.

But he would never deny you.

He growled ”If I fuck you Ill never let you go. You’ll never see those pearly gates again if you let me have you. So tell me you don’t want this, you don’t want me and Ill stop” he shimmied out of his pant, freeing his cock.

Alastor was lying. Even if you told him to stop and you didn’t want this he would never let you go back to Heaven.

Not when he just got you back.

Your lips met his again, the kiss was filled with longing and passion.

”I never want to be without you again”

He slammed his lips on yours again as he slid his cock into you, swallowing your squeal as you took him.

Fuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkk

He gave a few soft thrusts to make sure you adjusted well to him.

You panted into the crook of his neck. Nails clawing into his back as he rocked into you.

A cry ripped from your throat as he gained momentum.

”Aahh!”

This was different. So different from when you were alive.

Alastor was always passionate in bed with you, but this…this was so…you couldn’t even describe it.

a word popped into your head.

Divine

The way he fucked you told of how much he had missed you. 

Decades of being apart melting away as he pounded into you.

You locked your ankles behind his waist.

”You always take me so good cher. So so so good” He moaned into your ear.

The sound of skin hitting skin and your soft moans filled the air.

His cock hit that soft sweet spot inside you making you wetter.

”Ill ruin you. Fuck you til you’re drenched in me. Until your very scent is covered in me.” a harsh thrust brought him to be buried to the hilt.

Alastor smirked as your cunt fluttered

”You want that doll? To be ruined? To never see Heaven again? Hmmm you’ll throw away your salivation to be fucked by a demon like me?”

The telltale squelch of your cunt was his answer.

He would be damned if he ever let you out of his sight again.

His pace turned rough, he could feel himself changing.

”Alastor?” You felt him get bigger. His body morphed and when you looked at him, he expected fear.

But you looked in awe as he turned into his demon form.

Antlers big as willow branches, eyes black and glowing red like dials. He was disheveled.

He looked like a wild beast.

And he was fucking you like one.

All you could do was hang onto him. Letting him take you like you would disappear.

”ooh fuck aaahh please please” you cried as he fucked you, rutting into you with so much force you swear the bed was knocking against the wall.

You  felt your thighs tremble from taking his brute thrusts. That familiar tingle forming in your stomach.

were you gonna cum? Could you cum?

guess you’ll find out

Your demon husband was fucking you and you were gonna cum.

on his demon cock…oh heavens…

”Tu vas jouir, chérie ? Tu vas laisser un démon t'arracher ta libération ? Vous voulez que? hmmm? Tu veux jouir sur la bite de ton démon ? laisse-moi l'avoir chérie”

He purred, fucking into you so hard that a slight bulge was present.

He was going to break you. Ruin you.

He unhooked your legs, pushing one to your chest to get a better angle. Hitting those spots that had you seeing stars.

”A-Al! Oooh fu-fuuuck! I-I’m cumming oh my g-”

A large claw hand covered your lips

He snarled “There’s no God here sweetheart. Now. Cum”

Your body seized, feeling like a fire had set off as your organ ripped through you.

Alastor slapped his mouth over yours to eat your cries.

He thrusted into feverishly, seeking to paint your heavenly walls white with his cum as he fucked you through your orgasm.

”that’s a good girl, milking me dry”

He gently cradled your limp head, nipping at your swollen lips “where you want me cher? Cause i got half a mind to soak you in my cum”

You whined “i-inside…please cum inside me Alastor…baby please!”

He grinned “As you wish”

His pace quickened and with a low growl he emptied his cum into your cunt, sighing as he filled you til it spilled around him.

You let out a soft whine as he pulled out, wincing at the emptiness that he left behind, feeling his cum drip down your ass.

Alastor purred like an engine as he took you into his arms, basking in the afterglow as you cuddled into his side.

This is where you belonged.

By his side.

He’ll tear Heaven apart if they tried to take you back.

You were the Radio Demon’s.

Forever and always

@jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @markster666 @3verlark @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @alastwhore666 @horrorartsworld @gojosaturos-wife @ioniiaa @alstorloml @polytheatrix @catherine69420 @catmunist @lbcreations-blog @night-owl-2000

@dennsfz @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @imgonnadielaughing-blog @eviebuggg @scaramoochiie @siiv3r

@sugerrush69 @wedream-wecreate @jazzmasternot @k1y0yo @prosciuttosblog @yourdoorisunlocked

Comment if you want to be tagged!!!

[sorchathered]

Let’s do IT for our country

Pairing- President!Robert “Bob” Floyd x reader

Warnings- smut smut and more smut, breeding kink, language, mentions of pregnancy, us politics, I think that’s it?

Summary- Robert Floyd had never wanted to be the president, but here in the Oval Office on inauguration night with his First Lady? He could get used to nights like this.

A/N- It’s that time again! Another IBFFM, but this time with an older version of our sexy WSO. Mr. President is about 45 here, his First Lady is in her mid 30’s.

Also it’s @bobgasm ‘s birthday present!! Happy birthday to my precious Steph, love you so much baby!!

For as long as he could remember, Robert Floyd had been told he would be great.

His family name was synonymous with the likes of Kennedy and Roosevelt, the Floyd’s were some of the most influential in political history, and with that came high expectations. You must go to a prestigious college, you must serve your country (whether that be as a civil servant or military member), and you must marry the right kind of person. They talked about it as if they were breeding horses, and it never made any sense to him, so long as he found someone kind and supportive all of the bullshit that his family expected mattered very little to him. He would tick off whatever boxes they wanted, but it would be on his own terms.

He went to the US Naval Academy after high school, refusing to hop onto the Ivy League lifestyle his grandfather so desperately cherished. Moving on to aviation as a WSO and then becoming one of the top 1% in the country in his field. It was a distinguished career to be sure, but he’d been adamant that he had no interest in pursuing a political career, and certainly not the presidency.

He still wasn’t sure what had brought him to this point, or how he’d somehow managed to bag his dream girl in the process. A feisty junior senator from Delaware, good family, strong morals and drop dead gorgeous to boot, you’d been his match in every way. Sure you had hated his guts, he was the golden boy and you had dealt with his kind your whole life. But after a particularly long day in the senate he’d asked you to dinner, and while you’d had half a mind to tell him no the prospect of a free meal wasn’t worth passing up. So in a dingy dive bar with greasy burgers and cheap beer, you took a chance on him and fell ridiculously in love.

Four years had passed since you’d both sat in the creeky wooden booths of that shitty bar, and it felt simultaneously like yesterday and a lifetime ago. His family had pushed him into politics and while he had been adamant in the beginning that he would never pursue the presidency, the world had changed dramatically since he first refused the mantle. He may have hated the pageantry of it all, but at his core he truly did want to help people, and they certainly took notice. He’d run a clean and honest campaign with his best girl by his side, and won in a landslide. Everything moved very quickly from Election Day to Inauguration Day, it almost felt like he had blinked and he was here, wandering the halls of the west wing after skipping out on the last two of 10 gaudy inaugural balls he’d been forced to attend. He’d been going since sunrise and still couldn’t seem to get the jitters under control so he could rest; he suspected it would be quite a while before that feeling went away. Shaky hands moved to open the door to the Oval Office, completely renovated and designed by his beautiful wife to fit his style and personality, you’d made sure he would want for nothing, he’d be spending so much time in this room and it seemed only logical to make it a calm and safe space for him and his thoughts. It felt so much like his office at home, even down to the worn leather chair and the soft scent of sandalwood and tobacco from the candles you bought because it reminded you of him. You had told him you’d be heading to change and wouldn’t be gone long, he had plans to unwind with a bottle of bourbon and maybe a game or three of checkers, but as you slipped into the spacious and hallowed room belonging to the commander in chief, he nearly jolted out of his skin. There you were, his First Lady, in a skimpy little silk robe, intricate updo long gone in favor of soft curls, and the adorable little fuzzy cat slippers that he’d bought you for Christmas.

“Good evening Mr. President” you said with a smirk as you locked the door and padded over to his desk. You’d chosen well, the beautiful mahogany writing table had belonged to Theodore Roosevelt, and while it hadn’t been used in many a president’s term, you had made sure it was painstakingly restored and ready for his first day. Now that you were here, all he could seem to think of is how much fun it might be to test the sturdiness of the surface, perhaps he did need to blow off a little steam after such a stressful day…

“Sweet girl, you do realize there’s cameras everywhere right?” He said as you pushed his chair back just enough to fit between his thighs, very gently sitting on the edge of the antique escritoire. This desk had seen many a scandal, so many historical events, and you were quite sure she should handle the weight of what you had planned next.

“Already got that covered, Phoenix is on surveillance right now, you can go ahead and go dark Nat!” You said in the general direction of where they’d mentioned cameras were placed, a notification on your phone let you know she’d confirmed that the two of you had thirty minutes all to yourselves and you broke out in a blinding grin as you leaned forward to press a kiss to Bob’s jawline. The sharp intake of breath and his hands immediately going to your hips let you know he’d need this just as much as you, it had been embarrassingly long since the two of you had been together, and you filed away the notion that you would need to make sure you had the right security in play to make quickies like this a regular occurrence, policy be damned.

You’d drawn his lips to yours as you untied his tie and began unbuttoning the front of his dress shirt, his hands had drifted to palming your ass as he licked the seam of your mouth, a gasp from you was all he needed to slide his tongue against yours, squeezing you a little more roughly and all but pulling you into the plush office chair.

“Fuck I missed you,” he breathed into your mouth, you’d nearly gotten his dress shirt removed when he slotted his knee between your legs, large hands gripping the back of your thighs as he placed you back on the desk, this time swiping whatever loose papers off the top and sending them cascading across the plush carpet that held the presidential seal. You squealed and giggled, watching with rapt attention as he removed his dress shirt and exposed the defined freckled skin of his arms, pulling his undershirt off with less finesse as it joined the pile of papers on the floor. “I’ve never found a president to be sexy until just this moment, I have to admit, you look damn good in this office, sir” you said as you leaned back on your palms and ogled him, heat crept up his cheeks and chest at your praise, but his eyes had darkened at the honorific, you knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he could feel his dress slacks getting uncomfortably tight as you ran your bare feet up and down the back of his legs.

“You wanna be a good girl for me Madame First Lady? Let me lay you out and devour you where anyone could walk in?” His voice grew impossibly deeper and you let out a whimper in response, shifting to try and get some relief. You did want that, you wanted it so badly you could scream, it was the very thought of being dirty and unladylike for the man you loved that had you so hot and bothered, and he trailed one long finger down your sternum to remove your robe, fire in his eyes as he opened the sash and found you completely bare for him.

“Goddamn it, should have known you’d do this, you know exactly how to wind me up don’t ya? Whole world wants to know how to bring me to my knees and all they’d have to do is weaponize you and this perfect pussy.” He was completely fixated on your arousal glistening between your legs, and while normally you’d let him take his time, you knew it wouldn’t be long before some aid or agent came by to make sure he had everything he needed for the evening. If they only knew.

“Bobby, please? Don’t have a lot of time baby” you said as you squirmed on the polished wood and searched for some kind of relief. He seemed to snap out of his haze as lust clouded eyes fixed on yours, letting his index finger trail down your stomach and through your folds, watching your head fall back and chest heave at his teasing.

“Need to hear you say it sweet girl, you know what I want.” You blushed in earnest, he loved how dirty you could get, but that had always been behind closed doors in the comfort of your own home, you’d be mortified if anyone heard some of the things you’d said in the throes of pleasure; but it was his big day after all. If he wanted it, you’d give him the moon.

“Need your mouth on me Daddy, want you to make me cum and then fuck me with your big dick. Please? Please give it to me, ‘s been too long, fuck - I-“ you babbled at him as he continued to rub that one long finger up and down, it was maddening and had you choking on your words, thankfully he didn’t make you wait, spreading you open and pressing two fingers into you as he leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your clit. The relief was immediate, you moaned out into the empty room as he went to work on your aching pussy, drawing tight circles with this tongue as he scissored his fingers inside you. It had been weeks and he knew he’d need to get you ready, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going insane over the little noises you made and the iron grip you had on his hair, tugging at his scalp as you bucked up into his pretty face to search for your release.

It was startling how fast he got you there, you were certain you were dripping down onto the desk now, wet smacks and moans coming from between your thighs as you peeked down to look at his deep cerulean eyes. He was too damn good at this and he knew it, had the audacity to wink at you as he nibbled on your clit and with a gasp you came all over his face, watching as he wiped his mouth with his arm and smirking like the cocky bastard he was. He controlled the entire free world now, but he would still consider it his greatest accomplishment that he could render his pretty wife to a babbling needy mess with his tongue. Disheveled looked good on you, blush spread across your cheeks and chest, hair a mess, and your release all over your thighs from what he intended to be one of at least three mind blowing orgasms.

You looped your heavy arms around his neck and kissed him languidly, you didn’t seem to be as worried about the time anymore and for that he was thankful. He wanted to take his time, and if somebody walked in they would find out very quickly to knock, he couldn’t give a shit about anything other than getting his cock inside you.

You knew the rule all too well; no visible marks. It had been that way from the very beginning, which was unfortunate because you wanted so badly to mark his pretty neck up and make sure everyone knew he was yours, but the compromise was that you could leave them anywhere below the collarbone, so as he fished for the condom he’d stashed in his pocket (hoping to end the night just like this), you licked down his neck and began nibbling on the flesh of his pecks, sucking a nipple into your mouth and looking up at him as his jaw went slack. “Oh Christ, you gotta stop that baby or we’ll be finished before we even get started” he panted out and tried not to buck up into you, the hand gripping your thigh was sure to leave a mark but you couldn’t give a shit, there was something so powerful in being able to bring the most powerful man on earth to his knees, and even better knowing that he was insatiable for you.

“Then fuck me Mr. President, and you don’t need that condom either. I think you should put a baby in me, fill me up so good that I’m dripping with you all day tomorrow.” You grinned at him but he looked completely debauched, he ran a hand through his graying sandy locks and blinked down at you, almost at a loss for words.

“You little minx, you’ve been just waiting all day to drop that on me haven’t you? Need me to cum in that pretty pussy and get you good and knocked up? Fuck you’d think it was my birthday or something, I don’t know how I got it so good.” He said as he spread you out and ran his hands all over you, you were whimpering and grinding into him and he was sure he’d pass out if he was any harder, slipping himself out of his briefs and sliding his length through your slick. You were trying hard to be quiet, sure it was late but there was bound to be someone on watch, Bob gripped your chin as he slid into you and kissed you sloppily, all teeth and tongue and moans, shallow thrusts to get you ready turned rough when you sucked his bottom lip and pushed your hips up to take him to the hilt. You gripped the front of the desk behind your head and let him pound you into it, the need for quiet long forgotten as you alternated between crying out and calling him daddy.

It didn’t take him long before he was close, the aftershocks of your second orgasm seemed to keep him gripped so tight that he could barely think straight, he was furiously rubbing your clit to get you there again as he watched tears drip down your flushed cheeks, he’d never forget tonight for the rest of his life. Not all the fanfare, not even the immense weight of the mantle he was about to take, but this moment right here, wrapped up in his gorgeous wife as he fucked her silly in the Oval Office. You wailed out “I’m cumming” as you gripped him tight with your pulsing heat and he tumbled over the edge right along with you, warming you from the inside out as he filled you up.

You cradled his sweaty form in your arms as you both came down from your high, giggles erupting from him as it really set in what you two had done.

“Ah shit, well everyone’s gonna know that we can’t keep our hands to ourselves after this, I imagine the press will have a field day.” He kissed your nose as you grinned at him, both of you still joined together but neither of you ready to separate.

A loud ring came from his phone and it sent a jolt through both of you, wide eyes trained on his as he leaned forward and grabbed it off the hook. His eyes were full of mirth as he nodded his head once, twice and bid them goodnight, pinching your cheek with his free hand before hanging up.

“What was that all about?” You said, trying to push him up so you could get decent and off his desk.

“That was Nat, she said we need to hurry the hell up before me going MIA causes a national emergency.” He was joking of course, but the secret service agents at the door couldn’t look either of you in the eye as you shuffled down the hallway with Bob’s hand in yours, and it was no surprise to anyone when you turned up pregnant by the state of the union.

Tagging- @bobgasm @attapullman @bobfloydsbabe @floydsglasses @sebsxphia @roosterforme @sunsetsimpsblog @seitmai @auroralightsthesky @withahappyrefrain @hangmanapologist

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 2004 - i love you, i'm sorry

chapter summary: After an incident involving Jean and Scott at Alkali Lake, the team tries to figure out what happened and how to help their teammate.

word count: 9.1k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i know that technically 'the last stand' takes place in 2006, three years after 'x2', but for the sake of the story, i moved it forward some (hell, the story line is already ruined, jean's alive!). this pretty much follows the movie almost exactly, with a few changes and character switches, you'll see when you read ;)

also, i didn't write the full movie, there were some scenes i felt didn't need to be in the story or wouldn't contribute anything to what i'm writing, so there are a lot of skips.

warnings/tags: follows events of 'the last stand' (strays slightly), slight fluff, angst, violence, character death(s)

series masterlist - chapter 8, chapter 8.5 → chapter 10

“What the hell was that?” Ororo asked.

“Danger Room session.” Logan answered.

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh, lighten up, Storm.”

“Look, you can’t just change the rules when you feel like it. I’m tryin’ to teach ‘em something.”

“I taught ‘em something.”

“It was a defensive exercise.”

“Yeah. Best defensive is a good offense.” Logan tilted his head, “or is it the other way around?”

Ororo stopped walking and turned to face him, “this isn’t a game, Logan.”

“Well, you sure fooled me. Hey, I’m just a sub. You got a problem, talk to Scott.”

The elevator doors opened as you walked out into the sleek silver halls, “and where is Scott anyways?” Ororo asked.

You held a clipboard as you walked over to the two, the soft click of your shoes against the metallic floors catching Ororo’s attention. Adjusting your glasses with one hand, you scanned the paper in front of you before answering.

“Jean said something about going somewhere, and Scott followed. I’m not sure where though.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Of course, he did,” he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. His gaze shifted to you, softening slightly, though his smirk remained. “What about you, darlin’? You checkin’ in on us or just tryin’ to make sure I’m not causin’ trouble?”

“Little bit of both,” you replied quietly, a shy smile creeping onto your face. The teasing in his tone always made your heart skip, but you weren’t about to let him know that. Not yet, at least.

“Good luck with that,” Ororo said dryly, crossing her arms as she regarded Logan. “He’s impossible.”

“I heard that,” Logan shot back, though his eyes were still locked on you. His stance relaxed, hands casually slipping into his pockets. “And I ain’t impossible, sweetheart. Just a little... unconventional.”

Ororo rolled her eyes, but you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you. “Unconventional is one word for it,” you muttered under your breath, glancing down at your clipboard.

Logan chuckled at that, stepping closer until he was standing just a foot or so away. “You’re spendin’ too much time with me if you’re pickin’ up my bad habits,” he said, his voice lower now, meant just for you.

Your cheeks warmed, and you adjusted your glasses, focusing on the notes in front of you to avoid his piercing gaze. “Someone has to keep you in check,” you countered softly, earning another grin from him.

Ororo cleared her throat, her expression a mix of mild annoyance and amusement. “If you two are done flirting, can we get back to the matter at hand?”

You blinked, your face flushing even more at her words. “We weren’t—” you started, but Logan cut you off.

“Flirtin’? Nah, Storm, this is just me bein’ charming.” He leaned slightly closer to you, his smirk widening. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The warmth in your cheeks spread, and you quickly turned your attention back to Ororo, hoping to steer the conversation back on track. “Uh, right. The Danger Room session,” you said, clearing your throat. “I think it went... well? Mostly?”

“Mostly,” Ororo echoed, raising an eyebrow at Logan. “You mean aside from him completely derailing the exercise?”

“C’mon,” Logan said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “The kids learned somethin’. That’s the point, right?”

“They were supposed to learn defensive techniques,” Ororo pointed out, her tone sharp. “Not how to dive headfirst into a fight.”

Logan shrugged. “Sometimes a good offense—”

“—is the best defense,” Ororo finished for him, shaking her head. “Yes, we’ve heard it before. It’s still not what we were working on.”

You glanced between them, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. Logan’s ability to push Ororo’s buttons was almost an art form, but you knew he respected her, even if he’d never admit it outright.

“Maybe next time,” you said gently, stepping in before the argument could escalate further, “you two can coordinate beforehand? That way, no one’s caught off guard.”

Logan tilted his head, considering your suggestion, while Ororo gave you a small nod of approval. “Fair enough,” Logan said finally, his tone begrudging but not unkind. “But I still think my way’s better.”

Ororo shot him a look, and you couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up this time. “Let’s just call it a draw and move on,” you said, earning a chuckle from Logan and a sigh from Ororo.

“You’re too nice to him,” Ororo muttered as she turned to leave. “One of these days, you’ll regret it.”

Logan’s eyes followed her until she disappeared down the hall, then shifted back to you. “She’s got a point, y’know,” he said, his tone teasing. “You’re way too nice to me.”

“Someone has to be,” you replied without missing a beat, though your voice remained soft.

His grin widened, and he took another step closer, his hand brushing lightly against your arm. The casual intimacy of the gesture made your pulse quicken. “Lucky for me, huh?” he murmured.

Your eyes darted to his, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. The steady, grounding presence of Logan was all you could focus on. His hand lingered against your arm, his touch warm and familiar in a way that made you feel safe and seen.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Lucky for you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping even lower. “Y’know, darlin’, if we keep this up, Storm’s gonna start thinkin’ she’s right.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you pulled back just enough to regain your composure. “Let her think what she wants,” you said, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at nonchalance.

Logan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he finally stepped back, his hand falling away from your arm. “Alright,” he said, his tone light but his eyes still holding that unmistakable softness. “Guess I’ll see you later, then.”

“Yeah,” you said, your smile shy but genuine. “See you later.”

As he walked away, you couldn’t help but watch him go, your heart still racing from the exchange. It was moments like these that reminded you just how deeply he’d wormed his way into your life—and your heart.

---

“-sound waves almost always generate a little bit of heat as they travel, and almost always end up as heat when they are absorbed. Sound and heat are both macroscopic descriptions of the movement of atoms and molecul- ” Sharp ringing in your head cut you off, with the Professor’s voice ringing in not only your head, but everyone else’s.

“Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott. Scott- ”

You put down the dry erase marker on your desk and ran towards the Professor’s office, getting there at the same time Logan and Ororo did.

“Professor, you okay?” Logan asked.

“Get to Alkali Lake.”

---

The Blackbird descended down beneath the fog into a wooded area. As the three of you descended the ramp hardly anything could be seen.

You all walked slowly through the area, small objects like the leaves you stepped on and dew floating without any of you noticing.

“I can’t see a damn thing.” Logan said.

“I can take care of that.” Ororo looked up at the sky as she cleared the fog from the beach to reveal rocks and small debris floating above the sand.

“What the…” Logan muttered. A small rock floated close by as he gently tapped it, making it float away.

The three of you shared a glance before splitting up, walking in different directions but never straying too far. After a few moments Ororo’s voice broke out, “guys!”

You and Logan ran over to where Ororo was kneeling. Her hand rested on Jean's arm as she leaned closer to inspect her unconscious form. The redhead looked peaceful, almost too peaceful for someone sprawled out on the rocky ground.

"Jean," you said, voice soft but urgent as you crouched down. Your fingers pressed to the side of her neck, searching for a pulse. Relief flooded you when you found it—steady and strong. "She's alive."

Logan exhaled sharply through his nose, crouching beside you. "She doesn't look hurt," he muttered, his brow furrowed as he scanned her face. "But what the hell happened out here?"

"I don't know," Ororo said, her voice tight with concern. "But this... this isn’t normal." She gestured at the debris floating lazily in the air around you. Even the faintest breeze didn’t seem to disturb the unnatural stillness of the objects.

You brushed a strand of Jean’s hair away from her face, your fingers trembling slightly. “We should get her back to the mansion,” you said. “The Professor might be able to help.”

Logan nodded. “I’ll carry her.” Without hesitation, he slipped his arms beneath Jean and lifted her with ease, cradling her close to his chest. His eyes flicked to you briefly, his expression softening for just a moment. “Stay close.”

You nodded, your hand instinctively brushing against his arm as you rose to your feet. The three of you started back toward the Blackbird, the eerie quiet of the area pressing down on you like a weight. The leaves and rocks continued to float aimlessly, defying gravity in a way that made your skin crawl.

Once aboard the Blackbird, Logan gently set Jean down on one of the seats, securing her with a harness. You sat beside her, keeping a close eye on her for any signs of movement. Logan and Ororo moved to the cockpit, preparing for takeoff.

“Anything?” Logan asked as he glanced back over his shoulder at you.

You shook your head, biting your lip. “She hasn’t moved.” Your fingers lightly brushed against Jean’s wrist, feeling the steady thrum of her pulse again. “But she’s stable.”

Logan grunted, his jaw tightening. “Good. Let’s get back and figure out what the hell’s goin’ on.”

---

You and the Professor were in the medbay, with him sitting at the head of the bed while you ran scans of Jean’s brain and kept an eye on her vitals.

“Is she gonna be okay?” You asked.

“Jean Grey is the only class five mutant I’ve ever encountered, her potential practically limitless. Her mutation is seated in the unconscious part of her mind, and therein lay the danger. When she was a girl, I created a series of psychic barriers to isolate her powers from her conscious mind. And, as a result, Jean developed a dual personality.”

“W-what?” You muttered.

“The conscious Jean, whose powers were always in her control… and the dormant side, a personality that, in our sessions, came to call itself the Phoenix—a purely instinctual creature, all desire and joy… and rage.”

You thought back to the Jean you knew, she was kind and calm, she could never be… this. “Did Jean know about this?” You questioned, holding the tablet to your chest.

“It’s unclear how much she knew. Far more critical is whether the woman in front of us is the Jean Grey we know or the Phoenix furiously struggling to be free.”

“Well, she looks… peaceful.” You observed, tilting your head as you looked at her still calm expression.

“Because I’m keeping her that way.” Charles spoke, “I’m trying to restore the psychic blocks and cage the beast again.”

You straightened, “are you… trying to control her?”

“She has to be.”

“What happens if you just make the beast angry and it lashes out? What happens then?”

“You have no idea,” Charles said quietly, “you have no idea of what she’s capable. I had a choice to make. I chose the lesser of two evils.”

“Did Jean even have a choice in this?” you asked quietly.

Charles turned his head away from you, “I don’t have to explain myself.” He said, before hovering his hands over Jean’s head, ending the conversation.

You let out a small huff and walked over to some of the monitors at the other end of the medbay.

---

You fixed the attachments on Jean’s chest, but before you could pull your hand away completely, she grabbed your wrist, making you gasp slightly. The headpiece floated off her head, hovering over the ground.

“Jean,” you said softly.

She blinked before turning her head over to you, “hey, Y/N.” Jean said quietly, you barely even heard her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. More than okay,” she said, almost dreamlike. Her fingers lingered on your wrist, the contact grounding and unsettling all at once. She took off the diodes attached to her chest as you looked down at the tablet in your hands.

You stared at her, uncertain, the tablet still clutched in your hand. “Jean, maybe you should rest,” you suggested gently, your voice low and steady. “You’ve been through a lot.”

Her lips quirked into a faint smile—soft, almost playful, yet something about it felt… off. “I feel fine,” she replied, her tone silkier now. She sat up slowly, her movements fluid and unhurried, and the headpiece hovering near her floated to the side, settling on the counter without a sound. “Better than fine, actually.”

Jean adjusted her position, her legs on either side of yours, and you took a small step back, uneasy. Her hand slid down to yours, her fingers curling loosely around yours, grounding you in place.

"Jean, maybe I should call the Professor," you murmured, your voice steady despite the unease pooling in your stomach. “He’ll want to check on you.”

Her fingers tightened slightly around yours. “You don’t need to call him, Y/N,” she said softly, her tone soothing yet laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “I’m fine. I feel… better than fine.”

Her gaze was sharp, piercing, and for a brief moment, you felt like she was looking through you rather than at you. It made you shift on your feet, uncertain, your free hand clutching the tablet close to your chest.

“You’ve been through a lot,” you said carefully, trying to read her expression, though the faint, almost otherworldly smile she wore didn’t make it any easier. “Rest would be good. We just want to make sure you’re—”

“I know you’re worried about me,” she interrupted, her voice dipping lower. “You always are. You’ve always cared so much, Y/N.”

You blinked at her, the words striking a tender, vulnerable chord. “Of course I care, Jean,” you replied. “We’re friends. I just—”

“Friends,” she repeated, her smile widening slightly as her thumb brushed against your knuckles. “We are, aren’t we? Good friends…” Her tone lingered on the last word, almost teasing, and her gaze dropped to where her hand held yours.

The warmth of her touch seeped into your skin, steady and grounding, but her proximity—the way her body leaned into yours, her legs bracketing your stance—made the air in the room feel heavy, charged.

“Jean,” you said softly, “something feels off. Are you sure you’re—”

Before you could finish, she leaned forward, her free hand rising to cup the side of your face. The movement was fluid, almost too quick to process, and you froze, your breath catching as her thumb grazed your cheek.

“Y/N,” she murmured, her voice softer now, almost hypnotic. “You don’t have to be so careful around me. You’re always so careful, always holding back…”

Her words were gentle, but something about them tugged at a darker undercurrent, like a melody slightly out of tune. You shook your head, your pulse quickening. “Jean, I’m not holding back. I just think we should—”

She tilted her head, her fingers tracing the edge of your jaw with a featherlight touch. “I feel alive,” she said, almost to herself, her smile shifting into something more intense. “For the first time in… I don’t even know how long.” Her eyes locked onto yours, the green depths swirling with something unsteady, something you couldn’t name.

“You’ve always made me feel steady, Y/N,” she continued, her voice low, intimate. “Even when everything else feels out of control. Don’t you see how special that is? How special you are?”

Your heart raced, and you took another step back, trying to create space, but she didn’t let go. If anything, her hold on you seemed to tighten, her body leaning closer.

“Jean,” you tried again, your voice firmer now. “This isn’t like you. We should—”

“I don’t want to talk about what I should or shouldn’t do,” she said, her tone hardening slightly, the playful edge fading. “Not right now.”

And before you could react, her lips were on yours—soft, warm, and entirely unexpected. You froze, every thought scattering as her hand on your face anchored you in place.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was full of urgency, need, and something deeper—something wilder. Her fingers curled into your hair, and she pulled you closer, the tablet in your hands slipping to the floor with a quiet thud.

Your instinct was to pull away, to say something, but the intensity of it—the sheer force of her presence—kept you rooted. Her lips moved against yours, her grip on you firm yet not forceful, and for a fleeting moment, the warmth of her touch and the closeness of her body overwhelmed every rational thought.

You could faintly hear the monitors around you buzzing and hissing as Jean moved to slip off the cardigan on your shoulders, only pulling it halfway down your arms before holding on to your shoulders and pulling you down onto the med table.

As you hovered over her, Jean’s legs moved up, hooking around your waist. The movement was deliberate, too fluid to feel natural, and the contact sent a shiver down your spine—not entirely out of discomfort, but because there was a weight behind it, a pull you couldn’t seem to resist.

Her hand slipped from your wrist to the back of your neck, her fingers threading gently through your hair as she guided you closer. The kiss deepened, her lips soft yet insistent, and a strange warmth spread through your chest. Your mind screamed at you to pull back, to say something, but your body refused to listen.

You could feel it—the way her presence wrapped around you like a magnetic field, leaving you caught in its orbit. Every brush of her lips, every tilt of her head felt intentional, purposeful, as though she was unraveling something inside you, piece by piece.

“Jean,” you murmured against her mouth, barely audible. You tried to move your hands to push yourself away, but instead, they landed on either side of her hips, as if they had a will of their own. “This isn’t…”

“This isn’t what?” she whispered back, her voice breathless yet commanding. Her lips ghosted along your jawline, trailing heat in their wake, and you couldn’t suppress the faint hitch in your breath. “Tell me what feels wrong, Y/N.”

Her tone wasn’t accusing or angry; it was low, almost coaxing, as though she was daring you to argue when every fiber of your being wanted to agree with her. That pull—that inexplicable force—felt like a tether, one you couldn’t cut even if you wanted to.

“This isn’t you,” you managed, your voice trembling. “Jean, please, we need to stop.”

She leaned back slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, and the intensity in her eyes made your stomach twist. Her green irises swirled faintly, like something untamed was stirring beneath the surface. “Why?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing against the side of your neck. “Why are you so afraid of this?”

“I’m not—” You paused, swallowing hard, trying to focus despite the fog clouding your thoughts. “I’m not afraid. I just… I care about you. And this—this isn’t fair to you.”

Her lips quirked into a small, almost sad smile, though the flicker of something darker behind her eyes didn’t waver. “You always care so much,” she murmured, her fingers tracing a slow path down to your collarbone. “That’s what makes you so… special.”

You finally found the strength to shift, moving off of her and standing by the bed. “Jean, I mean it,” you said, your voice steadier now. “This isn’t you.”

Jean reached out again, moving to grab your face, “yes. Yes, it is me.”

You grabbed her wrists, holding them to her chest, “no. Maybe you need to take it easy. The professor said you might be different.”

"He would know, wouldn’t he?" she said, her voice low and cutting. "What? You think he’s not in your head too? Look at you, Y/N. Always so careful, so measured—every step thought out, every word calculated. Is that really you?"

Her words hit like a jolt, and your pulse quickened as you tried to steady your breathing. You stayed silent, unable to come up with a response before settling on, “where’s Scott?” You let go of her wrists as she looked away, “Jean?”

Tears started to fill her eyes, “where am I?”

“You’re in the mansion.” You gently rested your hands on her shoulders, “you need to tell me what happened to Scott.” Jean couldn’t meet your eyes; they kept flickering around the room. “Jean, tell me what happened to him.” You reached over and grabbed Scott’s glasses from a nearby table, the ones Logan found at Alkali Lake.

Jean looked down at the glasses in your hand before her eyes widened, “oh, God,” she muttered. She closed her eyes as creaking sounded out around you. You looked over to one of the tables where screws were being unscrewed and then back at your hands where Scott’s glasses turned to dust.

The computers started to buzz louder as a few objects started to float. “Jean!” You grabbed the sides of her face hesitantly, “look at me.” The metal cabinet door opened, and objects started to fall out onto the floor. “Stay with me.” Your hand’s traveled to her shoulders again, “come on, look at me. Look at me.”

Jean’s eyes were closed, “no.”

“Jean. Jean! Focus.”

She finally opened her eyes, looking at you with a tearful, frightened expression, “kill me.”

“What?” You whispered in disbelief.

“Kill me before I kill someone else.” She cried, tears falling down her face.

“No, don’t say that- ”

“Please.”

“Stop.”

“Kill me.” Jean said again, as the tables shifted and rattled, and the glass on the cabinet’s shattered.

“Stop, look at me. Look at me, Jean. Everything will be okay. We can help you. The professor can help. He can fix it.”

Suddenly Jean’s eyes went pitch black as she hissed, “I don’t want to fix it!” With a telekinetic shove, she threw you against the wall, effectively knocking you out.

---

“Y/N?” Logan’s hand landed on your shoulders, waking you up.

Your glasses were askew on your face as he adjusted them. “Jean?” You sat up and looked around the med bay, only to find Ororo and Charles by the door, Logan still kneeling next to you.

“What happened?” Logan asked.

“What have you done?” Charles questioned, rolling a little closer.

You looked from Charles, to Ororo, then Logan. “I think she killed Scott.”

“What?” Ororo whispered, “that’s not possible.”

“I warned you.” Charles spoke again, before closing his eyes. “She’s left the mansion, but she’s trying to block my thoughts. She’s so strong. It may be too late.”

---

You hurried to catch up to Logan as he followed Ororo and Charles toward the garage, your steps quick but uncertain. “Logan, wait,” you called, adjusting your glasses as they slid down your nose.

He stopped, turning to look at you, his expression already tense. His gaze softened briefly when it landed on you, but his jaw tightened again almost immediately. “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone even but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m coming with you,” you said firmly, surprising even yourself with the steadiness in your voice. You clasped your hands in front of you, gripping them tightly to stop them from trembling.

Logan’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “No, you’re not.”

You blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. “Why not? I can help. Jean is—she’s my friend, too. If something’s going on with her, I should be there.”

“It’s not safe,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. He stepped closer to you, lowering his head so he could look you in the eyes. “This isn’t some training mission, Y/N. Jean’s not herself. You saw what she did back there—she threw you into a wall without even trying. I’m not letting that happen again.”

You tilted your chin up, refusing to back down. “I can handle myself,” you replied, though the words didn’t feel as convincing as you wanted them to.

Logan let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. “Darlin’, you don’t need to prove anything. You’re not a fighter, and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean you’re not strong—it just means this isn’t the right place for you.”

His words stung more than they should have. He wasn’t saying it outright, but you couldn’t help but hear what wasn’t being said: Your powers aren’t enough. You’re not enough.

“I’ve been training,” you insisted, your voice quieter now. “I’ve been working with Ororo and… Scott—I’m not useless, Logan.”

“I never said you were,” he shot back, his tone softening slightly. He reached out, his hand brushing against your arm, but you stepped back, out of reach. His hand dropped to his side, and for a moment, his frustration flickered into something closer to regret.

“Then why won’t you let me come?” you asked, your voice wavering despite your efforts to keep it steady.

Logan hesitated, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “Because I can’t lose you,” he admitted, his voice rough but honest. “Not again.”

The weight of his words hit you like a punch to the chest. You stared at him, your lips parting slightly as you tried to process what he’d said. “What do you mean, ‘again’?” you asked quietly.

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly. “What matters is keeping you safe. And that means you’re staying here.”

You wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was something there—something raw and vulnerable that you didn’t recognize.

“I can help,” you said softly, one last attempt.

Logan stepped closer, his hand cupping the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I know you can,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But not this time. Please, darlin’. Stay here. For me.”

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling under the weight of his plea. Finally, you nodded, your eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Logan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured against your skin before pulling back.

As he turned and followed Ororo to the garage, you stayed where you were, watching him go. The weight of his words lingered in your chest, heavy and suffocating.

Not again.

---

After the Professor’s funeral, you found yourself alone in the medbay, your hands mechanically picking up the remnants of the chaos Jean—or whatever she had become—had left behind. Broken glass crunched underfoot as you swept it into a dustpan, the sound sharp in the oppressive silence. You set the broom aside and started straightening the overturned tables and scattered supplies, doing your best to focus on the task and not the knot tightening in your chest.

But the quiet didn’t last.

At first, it was faint—barely a whisper—but it stopped you mid-motion.

“Y/N…”

Your name.

You froze, gripping the edge of the counter. The room was empty. You were sure of it.

“Y/N…”

This time, the voice was unmistakable. Jean’s voice, soft but disoriented, echoing in the corners of your mind.

“Where… where am I?”

Your breath hitched. “Jean?” you called out, turning in a slow circle, your voice trembling. “Jean, is that you?”

There was no response, but the air seemed heavier now, charged with something unseen. You swallowed hard and braced yourself against the counter, your knuckles turning white.

“Y/N…” Her voice came again, fainter this time, almost pleading.

“Jean, where are you?” you asked, louder this time. The room remained silent, her voice fading into the ether.

You pressed your palms to your temples, trying to steady yourself. It wasn’t just hearing her voice—it was the desperation in it, the confusion. Something wasn’t right, and the knot in your chest grew tighter.

---

You didn’t remember walking to Logan’s room, but here you were, standing in the doorway. Most of your things had already migrated here over the past several months—sweaters draped over his chair, books stacked on the nightstand next to his bed. Now, you moved on autopilot, grabbing a bag and hastily stuffing a few essentials inside.

“Y/N,” Logan’s gruff voice startled you, and you turned to see him standing in the doorway. His sharp gaze moved from you to the bag in your hands, and his brows furrowed. “What are you doing?” he asked, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

“I need to go,” you said, your voice firmer than you felt. “Jean… she—she’s out there, Logan. I heard her.”

Logan’s expression darkened, and he shook his head. “No. You’re not going anywhere.”

You turned back to the bed, ignoring him as you zipped up the bag. “I can’t just stay here. She’s my friend—”

“And she’s dangerous,” Logan cut you off, his voice rising. He crossed the room in two quick strides, grabbing your bag and setting it down on the floor. “I told you to stay put.”

You clenched your fists, taking a step back. “You can’t just tell me what to do, Logan. I’m not some fragile thing that needs protecting. I can help—”

“Help?” Logan’s jaw clenched, and he ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t understand, Y/N. This isn’t some rescue mission. Jean’s not herself anymore—hell, I don’t even know if she’s still Jean.”

“She’s still in there,” you insisted, your voice cracking. “I know she is.”

Logan exhaled sharply, his shoulders tense. “Even if she is, it’s not safe for you to go out there. Not this time.”

“Why not?” you demanded, your frustration boiling over. “Why do you keep saying that like I’m some liability? Like I can’t—”

“Because I’ve lost you before!” he snapped, his voice breaking through the tension like a whip.

You froze, his words hanging heavy in the air between you.

“Again,” you repeated softly, your brow furrowing. “You’ve said that before. ‘Not again.’ What do you mean, Logan?”

Logan’s face hardened, and he took a step back, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered.

“The hell it doesn’t!” you shot back, your voice trembling now. “Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”

Logan looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned away, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

“I’ll go,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re staying here.”

“Logan—”

“No.” He turned back to you, his eyes fierce. “Stay here, Y/N. That’s final.”

You watched as he walked out, the door closing behind him with a soft click. The knot in your chest tightened until it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

You sank onto the edge of the bed, your head in your hands.

“Jean…” you whispered, her voice still echoing faintly in your mind.

---

You pulled your gloves onto your hands, flexing your fingers to adjust to the snug leather. The gesture felt mechanical, a distraction as your mind churned with everything that had happened—Jean’s voice in your head, Logan’s refusal to let you go, and the weight of everything unsaid between you two.

The sound of heavy footsteps behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Logan. He always moved with a certain weight, purposeful yet cautious, like he was constantly bracing himself for the next fight.

"Y/N," Logan’s voice was softer than you expected. When you turned, he was standing just inside the doorway, his gaze dropping briefly to your gloved hands before meeting your eyes. His expression was guarded, but there was something else there—hesitation? Guilt?

You didn’t say anything, waiting for him to break the silence.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I owe you an apology.”

That wasn’t what you expected. You blinked, unsure how to respond, so you stayed quiet.

Logan stepped closer, his movements slower, more deliberate than usual. “For earlier,” he continued, his voice low but steady. “For not letting you come with us to find Jean. For not listening to you when you said she was still in your head.”

You swallowed hard, glancing down at your gloves as you flexed your fingers again. “You didn’t have to apologize,” you said softly, though the tension in your voice betrayed your feelings. “You were trying to protect me. I get that.”

Logan frowned, stepping even closer until he was just a few feet away. “No, darlin’, you don’t get it,” he said, his tone sharpening slightly. “You’re in my head all the time, Y/N. Every damn second. And when I saw what Jean did—when I saw that had you hit that wall—I couldn’t...” He trailed off, his jaw tightening as he looked away for a moment, like he was trying to keep himself in check.

“Couldn’t what?” you asked, your voice quieter now, hesitant but insistent.

His eyes met yours again, and this time, the rawness in his gaze made your chest ache. “I couldn’t risk it,” he admitted, his voice rough. “I couldn’t risk losing you.”

You took a shaky breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “I wasn’t asking you to risk me, Logan,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “I was asking you to trust me. To believe that I could help. Jean’s my friend too, and I—” You paused, your throat tightening.

Logan’s face softened, and he reached out, his hands settling on your shoulders. His touch was firm but careful, grounding. “I know you’re strong, Y/N. Hell, you’re stronger than most people I’ve met. But this... This isn’t like anything we’ve faced before.”

You looked down, your gaze falling to the collar of his suit as you fought back the sting of tears. “You don’t think I can handle it,” you said, barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t say that,” Logan replied quickly, his thumbs brushing against your shoulders in a soothing motion. “I know you can handle more than I give you credit for. But that doesn’t mean I want you to.”

Your head snapped up at that, your brow furrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ve already lost you five times,” Logan said, his voice cracking slightly on the last two words. “And I can’t—” He stopped, closing his eyes briefly before continuing. “I can’t go through it again, Y/N. Even if you don’t remember, I do. Every life, every time. And it always ends the same way—with me losing you.”

The room seemed to tilt around you as his words sank in. “What are you talking about?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Logan, what do you mean, ‘every life’?”

Logan’s hands dropped from your shoulders, and he took a step back, running a hand over his face. “I can’t explain it,” he said gruffly. “Not now. Not here. Just... trust me when I say that keeping you safe is the only thing that matters to me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to demand answers, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was so much pain there, so much unspoken grief, that you didn’t know where to start.

Instead, you reached out, your gloved hand brushing against his. “Logan,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips twitched into a faint, fleeting smile, and he nodded, clasping your hand in his. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t think I could take it if you did.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. Then Logan leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Come on,” he said quietly. “The team’s waiting.”

You nodded, swallowing hard, but didn’t move right away. Instead, you reached out, your hand finding his wrist, stopping him before he could step away.

“Wait,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of your heart pounding in your chest.

Logan turned back to you, his brow furrowing as he studied your face. “What is it, darlin’?” he asked, his tone gentle despite the tension in his stance.

Your fingers tightened slightly around his wrist, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “I need to tell you something before we go,” you admitted, the words sticking in your throat. “About what happened in the medbay. Before Jean threw me into the wall.”

Logan’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching as he took a step closer. “What happened?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave, low and dangerous.

You hesitated, your stomach twisting as the memory surfaced—the way Jean’s voice had sounded in your head, warm and commanding, how her hands had felt on your face, her lips crashing against yours before you’d even realized what was happening.

“It wasn’t... voluntary,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “Jean—or whatever part of her that’s... different now—she got inside my head. Made me...” You trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, but the look in Logan’s eyes told you he already knew.

“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair as he started pacing. “She—she kissed you?”

You nodded, your arms wrapping around yourself as if to shield against the shame still lingering in the back of your mind. “I tried to stop her, Logan. I swear, I—”

“I know you did,” Logan interrupted, his tone softening as he stopped pacing and turned back to you. He crossed the small space between you in two strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face. “I know, sweetheart. It wasn’t your fault.”

Tears stung your eyes, and you blinked quickly to keep them from falling. “I should’ve told you earlier,” you whispered, guilt gnawing at you. “I just didn’t know how. After everything, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Logan shook his head, his thumbs brushing lightly against your cheeks. “You didn’t make anything worse,” he said firmly. “Jean’s not herself right now, Y/N. Whatever’s happening to her, it’s got nothing to do with you.”

You searched his face, the sincerity in his eyes grounding you in a way nothing else could. “I’m sorry,” you murmured again, your voice breaking.

“Don’t apologize,” Logan said, leaning down until his forehead rested against yours. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You hear me?”

You nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of his words wrapping around you like a lifeline. Then Logan pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your temple. “You ready?” he asked softly, his hands lingering on your shoulders.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice steadier now. “I’m ready.”

Logan gave you a small nod, his hand sliding down to take yours. His grip was warm and reassuring as he led you out of the room and down the hall toward the hangar.

---

“Jean!” Logan yelled, as the building behind him started to disintegrate. The military cars and its people floated in the air before turning into dust as well.

The water from the lake rose in the air, creating a wall around Alcatraz Island along with the debris.

Jean stood on top of metal, a makeshift platform, as Logan turned to face her, slowly walking towards her. “Jean!” A force knocked Logan back as his own body started to disintegrate, but his healing factor kept up with the dark force, keeping him together.

He grunted as he walked up the hill of metal and rock, and as he reached the top, the top of his suit was gone completely, his body almost glitching as the two forces fought against each other.

Logan finally made it up, now standing in front of Jean.

“You would die for them?” Jean hissed, her eyes pitch black.

Logan's voice was a low growl, each word deliberate and heavy. “No. Not for them.”

Jean’s darkened eyes narrowed, her expression unreadable as her hair billowed unnaturally in the chaos around her. The Phoenix force surged, tearing the air apart with its power, but Logan didn’t falter. His healing factor fought against the disintegration crawling over his body, knitting him back together even as the Phoenix sought to destroy him.

Jean stepped closer, her voice low and distorted, as though layered with something inhuman. “Then why, Logan? Why do you keep coming?”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his breathing heavy. He stared at her—not at the Phoenix, but at the woman he’d once trusted. “Because you’re my friend,” he rasped. “And because I’ve got no choice.”

For a moment, Jean seemed to waver, her expression flickering between the Phoenix’s cold rage and a glimmer of something softer—something human. But the Phoenix roared back with a vengeance, and her face twisted in fury.

"You should’ve stayed away!" she screamed, her voice reverberating in the air as a shockwave blasted out from her, throwing Logan to the ground. Metal debris rained down around him, but he pushed himself to his feet again, his claws extended as he advanced once more.

“Jean, you’re still in there!” Logan yelled over the chaos, his voice rough but desperate. “I know you are! Fight it!”

The Phoenix’s laughter was sharp and hollow. “Jean is gone,” she hissed. “You can’t save her.”

Before Logan could reply, her power flared again, and this time it consumed him completely. The flesh on his arms peeled away under the assault, only to regenerate in the next instant. He screamed in pain but kept moving forward, one step at a time, his determination unwavering.

---

From the safety of the Blackbird, your hands clutched the edge of the seat as you stared out at the destruction unfolding on Alcatraz Island. The others had joined the fight against the Brotherhood, but you’d been ordered—again—to stay behind on the jet by Ororo.

But this time, you hadn’t protested. Because something had stopped you.

A vision.

It wasn’t like the fleeting glimpses you sometimes caught when time slowed down around you. This was something else entirely, a full-blown, horrifying flash of what could be.

In your vision, Logan stood alone, facing Jean—or what she had become. The Phoenix wasn’t just fighting him; she was erasing him. You’d seen the way his body disintegrated over and over again, the agony etched into his face as he fought with every ounce of strength he had. You’d seen him fall.

You’d seen him die.

The image of his broken body burned in your mind, and your chest tightened with fear. Logan’s voice, raw and broken, echoed in your ears from the vision.

“No. Not for them.”

And then—nothing.

The vision had ended there, cutting off abruptly and leaving you gasping for breath. Your hands trembled as you pressed them against your temples, trying to ground yourself, but the weight of what you’d seen was suffocating.

“Logan…” you whispered to yourself, tears welling up in your eyes. The thought of losing him—of him sacrificing himself like that—was unbearable.

He can’t do this alone.

Your fingers tightened on the armrest as you wrestled with your next move. Jean was your friend, and Logan… Logan was everything. You couldn’t just sit here, watching from the sidelines, knowing what might happen.

You made your decision as you walked out of the Blackbird from on top of the building, scaling down the stairs behind the military men who were running away as the air shifted.

On the ground a flash of light caught your eye. You brushed dirt away to find a dagger, maybe something one the mutants or the military had dropped. You put it in your belt, the blade digging into your back.

Metal clinked as parts started to float in the air, screams and panicked yelling creating a symphony. Ororo stopped beside Logan. “I’m the only one who can stop her,” he said. “Get everyone to safety. Go!”

Ororo floated in the air, getting out of the way.

“Jean!” Logan yelled, as the building behind him started to disintegrate. The military cars and its people floated in the air before turning into dust as well.

The water from the lake rose in the air, creating a wall around Alcatraz Island along with the debris.

You swallowed harshly, running up behind him, “Logan!”

The sound of your voice cut through the chaos, making Logan’s head snap around. His eyes widened in shock, quickly narrowing with frustration as you came to a stop beside him. The storm of power surrounding Jean roared, debris spinning wildly in the air like a deadly vortex.

“What the hell are you still doing here?” Logan growled, grabbing your arm and pulling you closer to shield you from the debris. His eyes flicked over you, worry etched deep into his features.

You shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady despite the overwhelming fear clawing at your chest. “I couldn’t just sit there, Logan. I saw what’s going to happen—I felt it. You don’t understand—”

“I understand just fine,” he interrupted sharply, his voice rough with anger and something deeper. “This isn’t a fight you can win. You need to go. Now.”

“No,” you said firmly, stepping closer to him. “I’m not leaving you. Not this time.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his eyes locking onto yours. “Darlin’, this isn’t about me. It’s about keeping you safe.” His voice softened slightly, the desperation clear. “Please. Don’t make me lose you again.”

Those words made your breath hitch, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the storm, the chaos, even the looming threat of Jean’s power. You stared up at him, your heart breaking at the raw emotion in his gaze.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute.

Before Logan could respond, you stood on your toes, cupping his face as you kissed him. It wasn’t a fleeting, desperate kiss—it was full of love, of everything you hadn’t said and everything you couldn’t. His arms tightened around you instinctively, pulling you closer, and for one brief, perfect moment, the world around you seemed to stop.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested against his as your fingers brushed his jaw. “I love you,” you repeated softly, your voice steady this time.

Logan’s hand slipped to your back, his fingers brushing against the hilt of the dagger tucked into your belt. His body tensed immediately, his eyes snapping open as realization dawned. “No,” he said, his voice breaking as he looked down at you. “No, don’t do this—”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, tears slipping down your cheeks. “But it has to be me.”

“No!” Logan’s shout was raw, guttural, but before he could stop you, you stepped away from him, your powers flaring to life.

Time slowed to a crawl. The swirling debris froze mid-air, the deadly energy emanating from Jean suspended in place. Logan’s desperate reach toward you was halted, his anguished expression frozen in time as you turned and began climbing the jagged slope toward Jean.

The effort of holding time still burned through you like fire, but you pushed forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. Jean stood at the center of the chaos, her eyes pitch black, her power a violent storm around her.

“Jean,” you whispered as you approached, your voice shaking. “I know you’re still in there.”

For a moment, her expression shifted—confusion, recognition, something painfully human flickered in her gaze. But the Phoenix surged, her power straining against your hold, and Jean’s features twisted into fury.

“I’m so sorry, Jean.”

Her expression changed, briefly, as her voice broke and a single tear trailed down her cheek, “save me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again, your voice breaking as you pulled the dagger from your belt.

The blade was heavy in your hands, but your resolve didn’t waver. You lunged forward, driving the blade into her chest, straight into her heart.

Jean gasped, her eyes wide as the Phoenix’s power flared one last time before collapsing inward. The black faded from her eyes as she gave you a relieved smile. One that made her seem at peace as her body went limp in your arms.

The strain of holding time still finally became too much. As reality snapped back into motion, the force of it knocked you off your feet. You collapsed beside Jean, the world spinning around you as exhaustion overtook you.

You heard Logan’s voice before anything else.

“Y/N!”

It was a roar, raw and desperate, cutting through the ringing in your ears and the chaos that still lingered around you. You tried to respond, to tell him you were okay, but your body wouldn’t cooperate. The effort of stopping time, of reaching Jean, had taken everything you had left.

Footsteps thundered across the broken ground, and then he was there. Logan dropped to his knees beside you, his hands immediately reaching for you, shaking you gently but urgently. “Sweetheart, no, no—open your eyes,” he pleaded, his voice cracking as his hands moved from your face to your shoulders, searching for signs of life.

Your body was limp in his arms, your chest still, your face losing color.

Logan’s breaths came in short, harsh gasps as he pulled you against him, cradling you like you might slip away entirely if he let go. “Y/N,” he whispered, the single word a broken prayer, an unbearable weight of grief choking him. His hands shook as they smoothed over your hair, as though trying to coax you back to him with touch alone.

He didn’t notice Ororo land nearby, didn’t register her sharp intake of breath as she took in the scene. Her hand came up to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror, but she didn’t approach. Behind her, Bobby and Kitty stood frozen, their expressions stricken, but they too stayed back. Even Peter, with his usual strength and calm, had no words.

Logan didn’t care that they were there. Didn’t care about anything except the motionless weight in his arms. He rocked you slightly, his forehead pressing against yours as his ragged breaths turned into choked sobs. “You weren’t supposed to—damn it, you weren’t supposed to do this,” he growled, his voice breaking as he fought against the tears burning in his eyes. “Not this time. Not again.”

Logan pressed his lips to your forehead, his hands shaking as they cupped your face. “Come on, darlin’,” he whispered, his voice soft and cracked. “You’re stronger than this. You’re too stubborn to leave me. Just—just come back.”

The others stood frozen, unable to move, unable to interrupt the devastating scene unfolding before them. Ororo’s hand clutched her chest, tears streaking down her face as she turned away, giving Logan what little privacy she could in this moment of unbearable pain.

But Logan didn’t notice. He couldn’t notice. His world had narrowed to you—the unbearable stillness of your body, the haunting silence that surrounded you now.

He didn’t let go, even as the destruction around them finally began to settle, the last vestiges of Jean’s power fading into nothingness. His arms tightened around you, his forehead pressing to yours again as he whispered brokenly, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you. I’m so damn sorry.”

Time seemed to stand still in the worst possible way. For the first time in his long, painful life, Logan felt completely and utterly powerless. The ring he’d carried for over a century burned like a brand against his chest, a cruel reminder of all the promises he’d never been able to keep.

Logan buried his face against your neck, his voice raw as he whispered, “I was gonna tell you. About the ring. About everything. You—you deserved to know.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, as if he could will the life back into you.

He pulled back, his tear-streaked face contorted in anguish as he gazed down at you. “I love you,” he said, his voice breaking on every syllable. “I’ve loved you through every lifetime, and I’ll love you in the next one, too. But please, sweetheart, don’t make me wait again. Not this time. Please.”

His hands trembled as he touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing over your skin like it might bring you back. “I love you,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “I’ll always love you.”

But you didn’t move. Your chest didn’t rise. You were gone.

Logan’s breath hitched as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead—one last desperate, lingering moment of tenderness. When he pulled back, his gaze swept over your still features, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and devastation.

Behind him, Ororo, Bobby, Kitty, and Peter stood at a distance, their faces drawn with grief. None of them moved to intervene. They knew better than to intrude on this moment, on Logan’s anguish.

The air felt impossibly heavy as Logan shifted, gathering your lifeless form into his arms. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though handling something too precious to break further. He cradled you close, his head bowing as he let out a shuddering breath. The others watched as he rose to his feet, every muscle in his body screaming in protest, though he showed no sign of it.

“Logan…” Ororo began softly, stepping forward.

He didn’t acknowledge her. His eyes were locked on you, his focus unwavering. Without a word, he turned away, carrying you toward the bridge. There was no Blackbird to take them home—Jean’s power had obliterated it along with so much else—but Logan didn’t seem to care about the logistics. His only concern was you.

The others exchanged a glance, but no one stopped him. Slowly, they followed at a respectful distance, the weight of what had just transpired pressing heavily on them all.

.......um, sorry???

there are 2 more chapters left! an interlude and then 'days of future past'!

[ummforrest]

i’m not sure if this makes sense but it was in my head earlier and i thought i’d try and put it into words

also can you tell i’m trying desperately to humanize this man

given the environment simon riley grew up in, he learned to pay close attention to what he had left, especially in bottles or containers where he couldn’t see how much was in there. for example, shampoo and body wash weren’t bought frequently out of pure negligence, and simon wasn’t about to risk anything by asking for a necessity (god forbid). so, he got super good at just knowing, by weight alone.

the sense never really left him as he grew up and went to the military. constantly packing things into travel size containers for weeks long trips kept his gift sharp. yet at his flat in the city, he didn’t have to keep buying shower necessities much thanks to being gone for weeks or months on end.

until he met you, that is.

what started as innocent flirting in a bar led to a 2 year long relationship, and the two of you agreed to move in together at your apartment. meaning, his months old bottles of shampoo and conditioner were moving with him.

a few months later, he returned from a two month long mission and came home wanting nothing more than to kiss you a bunch, and take a shower (in that order). you met him at the door as usual and after several long and quick kisses and “i miss you”s, he whined about needing a shower, so he excused himself.

after standing under the hot water for a few moments to unwind, he washed his hair like normal, rinsed it, then grabbed his body wash. he paused, holding the bottle.

weighing it.

looking puzzled.

after a hesitant wash, he finished up in the shower, dressed, and met you on the couch where you lay, draping your legs over his thighs.

“question for you,” he said, squinting.

“answer for you,” you replied, clicking your phone off and setting it on the carpet.

“have you been using my body wash?”

you blinked a few times. “yeah,” you said it like he had asked the most ridiculous question. “i ran out of my own. plus i missed you really bad and wanted the smell.” you paused. “…is it an issue?”

“no, love, not at all,” he answered quickly, pulling you further down the couch so he could lay beside you, spooning you, breathing you in with his nose under your jaw. “you need to get more, though. want your smell too.”

[landososcar]

packing it up ; LN4

— pairing(s) ; college hockey player!lando x figure skater!reader

— summary ; in which lando's transfer to a new school not only brings him a new team, classes, and friends, but a girl who will change his life forever.

— warnings ; not edited, i'm not american, im also not a figure skater so there's probs plenty of inaccuracies lolll

chapter two — prev … next

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

that night, i couldn’t stop replaying the dinner conversation in my head. lily’s unwavering support wasn’t surprising—she’d always been in my corner—but lando? his empathy had caught me completely off guard. i didn’t know if it made me feel comforted or embarrassed. 

as i lay in bed staring at the ceiling, lost in thought, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

i sat up, my heart skipping a beat as i reread the message. my thumbs hovered over the screen, but i had no idea how to respond. why would lando go out of his way to talk to his mum about me? we weren’t close; i barely knew him.

but as i put my phone down, a spark of hope flickered in my chest.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

the next morning, i returned to the rink, throwing myself into practice with a determination that bordered on desperation. the icy air bit at my cheeks as i glided across the ice, pushing my body to its limits. the rhythmic sound of my blades slicing through the rink was usually soothing, but today it wasn’t enough to quiet my thoughts and the knot in my chest wouldn’t loosen.

i was mid-spin when a warm, unfamiliar voice called out from the edge of the rink.

“beautiful form.” startled, i faltered slightly but regained my balance before turning toward the source. a woman stood near the boards, dressed in a stylish coat and scarf, her posture poised and confident. there was something familiar about her—the same warm eyes, the same gentle smile, “you must be y/n.”

i skated over, unsure of what to say. “that’s me. and you are...?”

“cisca norris,” she said, extending a hand. “lando’s mum. he told me a bit about your situation, and i thought i’d come take a look.”

my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “oh, i—he didn’t need to do that.”

she smiled kindly. “he’s a good boy, my lando. and a little stubborn when he wants to help. i’m glad he told me, though. i can see you’re very talented.”

“thank you,” i said, still feeling flustered. “but i don’t even have a partner or a coach anymore. i’m kind of stuck.”

her expression softened. “you’re not stuck. you’re just at a crossroads. if you’re willing to put in the work, i’d be happy to help.”

“you’d... coach me?” my voice cracked slightly, disbelief colouring the words. i didn’t know what to say – i didn’t want to be a burden to her, and i didn’t know how to repay her.

she nodded. “i haven’t coached in years, but i still know what it takes. and i’ve got a really good feeling about you, y/n.”

i blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion. “thank you, b-but i don’t know how to repay you for this… i don’t know what to say.”

“say you’ll show up tomorrow ready to work,” she said smiling, “we’ll take it one step at a time.” i nodded almost desperately and she must’ve seen the water brimming on my eyes because she went to pull me into a hug, “and as for payment,” she said gently, “just make sure my son is feeling at home, would you?”

i laughed softly, wiping my eyes. “i was gonna do that anyway.”

“i thought you might say that,” she said with a smile, brushing an invisible strand of hair from my face before we parted.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

as i got back to my dorm for the night, i was greeted by my best friend’s beautiful smile. lily was sprawled across her bed, headphones on and sketchbook in hand, her pencil moving in quick, confident strokes.

she looked up as i closed the door behind me, her eyes lighting up. “hey! how was the rink?”

i kicked off my shoes, my heart still buzzing from the day’s events. “you’re not going to believe this.”

her eyebrows shot up in intrigue as she sat up straighter. “spill. right now.”

i tossed my bag onto my bed and sank into the desk chair, still trying to process everything myself. “okay, so... lando talked to his mum about me. apparently, she’s a former skating coach.”

lily’s jaw dropped. “no way.”

“and not only that—she came to the rink today. she offered to coach me, lily. can you believe it? out of nowhere, she just... showed up and said she wanted to help.”

for a moment, lily just stared at me, then she let out an excited squeal, throwing her arms in the air. “i knew it! i told you lando was the best! and his mum? she sounds like an actual legend.”

i laughed, her enthusiasm infectious. “she is. i mean, she’s amazing. the way she coaches, the way she just... believes in me. i don’t even know how to thank her—or him, for that matter.”

lily rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin in her hands. “you thank her by killing it at practice tomorrow. and as for lando...” she smirked mischievously. “you could always bake him cookies or something. or, you know, just say thank you like a normal person.”

i rolled my eyes, though i couldn’t help but smile. “i’ll figure it out. but honestly, it feels like things might actually be looking up for the first time in forever.”

lily beamed at me, her expression softening. “of course they are. you’re incredible, y/n. you just needed the right people in your corner. and now you’ve got them.”

warmth spread through me, easing some of the tension that had been weighing me down for weeks. i didn’t say it out loud, but lily’s unwavering belief in me meant just as much as cisca’s. maybe, just maybe, she was right. maybe things really were finally looking up.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

the next morning, i arrived at the rink early, my nerves humming with anticipation as i laced up my skates, the sharp cold of the ice already creeping through my layers. today wasn’t just another practice.it was the first step toward figuring out my future—and maybe, just maybe, rebuilding what i thought i’d lost.

as i stood on the ice, stretching and warming up, cisca arrived. she walked in with a graceful confidence that made her instantly commanding yet approachable. a small bag hung from her shoulder, and her warm smile made me feel instantly at ease.

“good morning, y/n,” she greeted, her voice as gentle as it had been the day before.

“good morning,” i replied, my voice trembling slightly with nerves.

she set her bag down on the bench and pulled out a notebook, “i have to admit, i missed this,” she said, almost to herself. “it’s been a while since i’ve coached, but it all comes back so easily.”

i couldn’t help but smile, her enthusiasm was a little contagious. “thank you for doing this. it means more to me than i can say.”

she waved a hand dismissively, though her smile softened. “lando said he’s been told you’re very talented,” she paused with a smile, “i think you’ve got some amazing friends willing to help you however they can… let’s get started.”

the next hour passed in a blur of movement and focus, diving into the intricacies of technique. cisca’s coaching style was unlike anything i’d experienced. she was direct, offering feedback that was honest but never harsh. when i struggled with a step or faltered during a spin, she didn’t scold; she analyzed.

“your jump is good, but let’s work on the timing of your takeoff,” she said at one point, skating out onto the ice to demonstrate. “if you push off too early, you lose momentum. watch me.”

she executed the jump with ease, landing gracefully and turning back to me with an encouraging nod. “now you.”

i tried again, this time paying closer attention to her tips, and when i landed smoothly, she clapped lightly. “there it is! perfect.”

her praise sent a swell of pride through me, something i hadn’t felt in months. maria had always been strict and demanding, rarely offering compliments unless the move was flawless. with cisca, it felt different. her belief in me wasn’t conditional; it was unwavering.

by the end of the session, my muscles ached in a satisfying way, and my spirits were higher than they’d been in weeks. i sat on the bench unlacing my skates when cisca joined me, her expression thoughtful.

“you’re a hard worker,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence. “that’s a quality even the most talented skaters can lack. if you keep that up, you’re going to go far.”

i looked at her, unsure how to put my gratitude into words. “thank you,” i said, my voice soft. “for everything. i don’t know how to repay you.”

her hand rested lightly on mine, her touch warm and reassuring. “you don’t owe me anything, y/n. i’m happy to help. and honestly,” she added with a playful smile, “you’ve already made it worth my while just by showing up and giving it your all.”

i chuckled, feeling my cheeks warm. “still... thank you.”

she leaned back slightly, her gaze turning more serious. “and don’t forget what i said yesterday—make sure lando feels at home here. he’s putting on a brave face, but i know my son. he’s adjusting, too.”

the mention of lando made me pause, her words stirring something in me. “i will,” i promised. “he’s been so kind to me already. he must get it from you.”

cisca smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that reminded me of lando. “he’s got his moments,” she said with a wink.

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

later that afternoon, i found myself walking back toward the skating arena. lando had practice, and while i hadn’t planned on going, cisca’s words lingered in my mind. i owed him at least a thank-you.

the unmistakable sound of skates cutting across ice greeted me as i stepped inside. the cold air nipped at my cheeks, but the energy of the rink was infectious. players zipped back and forth, their movements sharp and deliberate, the clatter of sticks and pucks echoing through the space.

it didn’t take long to spot him. lando moved with a precision that stood out, his focus intense as he weaved through the defence. even as someone unfamiliar with hockey, i could tell he was good—really good.

when he skated off the ice for a break, he noticed me standing near the boards. his face lit up with surprise as he walked over, his cheeks flushed from exertion. “y/n! didn’t expect to see you here.”

i smiled, feeling slightly awkward because of the other men around us, but pushing through it. “i just wanted to say thank you. for talking to your mum. she’s... amazing. i can’t believe she’s helping me.”

he grinned, leaning casually against the boards. “told you she was the best. so, how’d it go?”

“she’s incredible,” i said earnestly. “i feel like i might actually have a chance now. i don’t know how to repay either of you.”

“you don’t need to,” he said easily. “mum wouldn’t do it if she didn’t believe in you. and honestly, i’m glad i could help. you’ve been through enough.”

his sincerity caught me off guard, and for a moment, i just looked at him, unsure what to say. finally, i smiled. “well, i owe you at least a coffee or something.”

he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “i’ll hold you to that.” i laughed, watching him skate back onto the ice with the rest of his team before heading out of the bulky double doors and back to lily and i’s shared dorm. 

later that night, as i laid in bed trying to rid my mind of the pretty boy with the brown curls so i could sleep, my phone lit up with a notification. i sighed and debated on checking it, knowing the light from my phone would completely restart my attempt at sleeping. i grabbed it from the bed side table and couldnt help the upturn of my lips when i saw what it said.

landonorris started following you!

⸝⸝ ʚ 𖥔❆ ! ⌗ °•˚❆ ˖⋆*ೃ ༄

a/n ; i’m so sorry this took so long lmaooo chapter 3 is pretty much done so i’ll post it asap (fr this time)

taglist (comment or send an ask to be added<3) ; @leclercdream @britenysbitch @cabbyhabs @jule239 @tvdtw4ever @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @f1and1d4eva @sid-is-gr8

[little-diable]

Christmas Trip - Jasper Hale (smut)

Just another Christmas Drabble. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. Xxx

Summary: Jasper takes the reader to a Christmas market and she’s ready to properly thank him for it.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (m), road head

Pairing: Jasper Hale x fem!reader (1k words)

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” (Y/n)’s soft voice filled the car, eyes set on Jasper’s features. He shot her a smile, cold hand finding her cheek to pull her in for a kiss that made her heart skip a beat or two.

“You know I’d do anything for you.” His words made heat rise to her face, still not used to being treated this kindly by a man she was head over heels in love with. (Y/n) pressed her forehead against his, cherishing his closeness for another moment before slowly parting from him again.

“I know, Jas’, and you know I’ll gladly reward you later for doing this with me.” Her chuckles filled the evening as she stepped out into the cold before he could reply. Instantly her attention was drawn towards the small Christmas market, the stalls offering food and handmade goods. Jasper found her hand to pull her along, keeping close to (y/n) who looked like a child in a candy store.

“You don’t know how happy this makes me.” She shifted her weight onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek, fuelled by her gratefulness and excitement. He squeezed her hand, trying to let his attention rest on her and not on the different smells lingering in the cold air, accompanied by the sounds the crowd surrounding them made.

Something about this evening had something awfully special to (y/n), something she had been aching for the past years. Spending time with her boyfriend was always special, of course it was, and yet this evening was different somehow. Perhaps it was the fault of the many blinking lights that wrapped them in a soft glow. Perhaps it was the fault of the sweet scent she clung to, reminding her of her childhood. Perhaps it was simply the fault of Jasper, who had put so much effort into making this possible for her.

She felt him close wherever they went, looking at crafts, speaking to a few locals, cuddling for a moment while she sipped on her hot drink. And all Jasper could do was admire her, the way her body clearly fought against the cold nibbling on her cheeks and nose, how she seemed to cuddle herself against him at any given chance, further strengthening their bond.

Only as they made their way back to the car, set on warming (y/n) up, did she let go of his hand, “Thank you, Jas’. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“You’re stealing the words right out of my mouth, darlin’.” He shot her his signature smirk before he started the car, driving back towards Forks while (y/n) slowly began to warm up. For a while, neither of them spoke, lingering in their memories of this evening, how her smile had grown brighter with every passing minute, how she had clung to her newfound happiness like the luckiest woman earth had ever seen.

Her eyes lingered on his side profile, thoughts set on the reward she had promised him. Jasper must have felt the switch in her emotions, letting his grin linger on his lips while her hand found his thigh, stroking along the cold fabric. He didn’t move, kept his eyes focused ahead to give (y/n) the confidence to keep moving, shifting in her seat to reach his crotch.

“Fuck, darlin’. Careful there, don’t want you risking your safety.” She could only hum, not picking up on his words as she brushed her fingers along the stretched fabric. It didn’t take her long to free his hardening cock from the confines of his clothes, she spat into her palm before she began to stroke the soft skin.

Jasper’s raspy moans filled the car, eyes flickering to meet her widening pupils. She looked like a goddess to him, wrapped in the dark lingering in the car, emanating something soft though teasing enough to push him further towards his doom. (Y/n) was his everything, something to love and to cherish, while keeping a protective hold that was supposed to keep her chained to him until the end of this very earth.

His name left her, rolling off her tongue as if she wanted to speak her truth - no needed to give room to the adoration she couldn’t shake. But no further word left her, nothing but the echo of his name that rang in his ears all while (y/n) moved again. With that innocent look in her eyes, she stared up at him, watching his reactions the second her tongue brushed over the tip of his cock.

Jasper’s moan filled the car, guiding her to take more of him down her throat. The taste of his precum stuck to her, all too familiar as it reminded her of the endless hours they’ve spent tangled between the sheets. She loved being this close to him, loved the feeling of his twitching cock pressing against her tongue. He was the centre of her world, the one thing she’d never let go of.

“God, that mouth of yours is heavenly, darlin’.” His cold hand found her neck, holding onto her in a possessive manner. Jasper didn’t allow her to move - not that she wanted to - he needed her close, ready to fill her mouth with his much needed release. She gagged around him the second he jerked his hips, forcing his cock further down her throat.

She was making a mess on his thighs, saliva dripping from her lips as if her mouth was watering from the mere sight of him. And it was, fuelled by her never ending need for her partner. (Y/n) pulled away for a second, pumping him faster with her skilled fingers while deeply inhaling.

“Want you to fill my mouth, Jas, please.” The words filled the car before she took him back into her mouth. Another groan left him, rumbling through Jasper before a “fuck” clawed its way out of him. He came in her mouth with a raspy sound, filling her cheeks with his cum and the taste she loved.

For just a flicker of a second, he closed his eyes, letting the feeling wash through him while she greedily swallowed. Then his eyes were back on the road, filled with a dangerous twinkle that told her he’d ruin her tonight.

[lila-lou]

✨High School Sweetheart - Pt 1✨

Summary: You come face-to-face with a ghost from your past—Dean Winchester. Five years after he vanished from your life without a word, and now he´s here. But neither you nor he are teenagers anymore.

-Listen to "Chance with you"-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, ANGST, Fluff, John being a dick

Word Count: 5697

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

The air in the bar felt thick, heavy with the scent of spiced cider and a faint edge of old whiskey, blending into the murmur of low conversations and a crackling rock song on the jukebox. You’d come here tonight for a quiet drink, something to chase away the chill of early autumn and the memories that always seemed to creep up on you this time of year. But all thoughts of peace vanished the moment you saw him.

Dean Winchester.

He was older, his jawline sharper, more rugged than you remembered. But it was him, sitting across the bar, just as cocky and self-assured as he’d been five years ago. He was laughing at something, a low, rough laugh, and you could just make out his voice. Next to him was a younger guy with shaggy hair—his little brother, you guessed. The kid was a bit taller than you’d imagined, but something in the way Dean looked at him told you it had to be Sam.

Five years.

It had been five years since Dean Winchester had walked out of your life, without so much as a word or even a backward glance.

Three months was all it had taken for him to slip past your defenses, just long enough to make you feel something real—just long enough for him to break your heart.

You’d told yourself you’d moved on, but now, seeing him here, you weren’t so sure.

You didn’t know if you were more shocked or furious. What the hell was he doing here, sitting at the bar in your town, like he hadn’t left a storm behind him? You felt your hands curl into fists at your sides, trying to keep your breathing steady as you watched him lean into his conversation, completely unaware of your presence.

You clenched your fists tighter, the old hurt and bitterness simmering to the surface. Five years might as well have been five days with the way the memories rushed back.

Dean had been your first everything—first real crush, first kiss, first love, first time.

He had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world, like nothing else mattered when you were together. But then, without so much as a word, he was gone. Left you staring at empty halls, his laugh an echo that haunted you long after he disappeared. You’d never gotten an answer, just silence.

And now, here he was, like some ghost from a past you’d never properly buried.

Taking a steadying breath, you pushed away the hesitation. You weren’t a teenager anymore; you deserved answers. And damn it, he needed to know that some things didn’t just disappear.

You took another step forward, just enough for him to catch sight of you from the corner of his eye. His head turned, and when he saw you, his face went slack with surprise, the hint of a smile fading as quickly as it had come. His green eyes—those same ones that had once looked at you like you were his whole world—widened slightly.

“(Y/N)?”, he said, your name a quiet murmur, almost like a question, as though he couldn’t believe it was really you.

The casual surprise in his tone snapped something inside you. For a second, you just stared back, holding his gaze, letting him feel every bit of anger that had built up over the years.

“Surprised?”, you asked, letting a little edge slip into your voice. “You look pretty good for a ghost, Winchester”.

He blinked, the surprise melting into something else—guilt, maybe, or regret, though he tried to hide it quickly behind that familiar cocky smirk. But it didn’t reach his eyes, and you could see he was still searching for the right words, like he hadn’t quite prepared for this confrontation.

“Didn’t think I’d run into anyone from back then”, he finally said, a little hesitant, his voice quieter than usual.

“Back then?”, you laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You mean five years ago, when you left without a word? Disappeared like none of it mattered?”.

His expression softened, and he glanced away, jaw tightening. “Look, (Y/N), it’s… it’s complicated”.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you looked Dean up and down, letting the silence settle between you. The discomfort in his face was almost satisfying, but it didn’t ease the ache in your chest. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Sam giving you a small, awkward wave, clearly recognizing you too. He looked between you and Dean, shifting on his feet.

“Uh, yeah… I, um, need to use the restroom”, Sam mumbled, flashing an apologetic smile before slipping away, clearly eager to avoid whatever confrontation was brewing between you and his brother.

“Complicated”, you repeated, letting the word hang heavy between you. “That’s all you’ve got after all this time?”.

He flinched, looking up to meet your eyes, and for the first time, you saw something raw there, a vulnerability he hadn’t let you see back then.

“(Y/N), I know it sounds like an excuse”, he began, his voice dropping low, careful, like he didn’t want anyone to overhear what he was about to say. “But I had no choice. My dad… he needed me, and we had a job to do. I couldn’t stay, couldn’t keep you in that mess”.

You scoffed, trying to brush off the way his words still managed to stir something deep inside you, that same helpless longing you’d tried so hard to bury. “Right”, you mumbled, voice thick with the bitterness you’d been carrying. “So you just left, thinking it’d be better for me. Meanwhile, I was left to… to deal with the fact that I fell for you, Dean. Fell hard, too”.

He looked up, his expression softening with surprise and guilt, but you pressed on, feeling the words rush out, bitter and relentless.

“You waltzed in, got under my skin, made me believe… Fuck. I was such an idiot”. You shook your head, feeling the sting of it, years after you’d tried to laugh it off, to forget. “Every guy after you didn’t stand a chance, you know that? No one ever got close because, no matter what I told myself, I couldn’t get you out of my head. You twisted me up so bad in those few weeks, like some lovesick kid, just waiting for someone who never even bothered to say goodbye”.

Dean’s shoulders dropping slightly as he listened, as if your words were pressing down on him. He didn’t look away, though—he let you speak, let you throw every hurt and frustration at him without backing down. When you finally stopped, breath catching in your throat, he exhaled, like he was trying to find something, anything, to say that might make this better.

“(Y/N)”, he started, voice rough. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to come back, to give you some kind of answer. But I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave again. And my life, this life I was born into… it wasn’t fair to pull you into it. It wasn’t fair to you”.

You shook your head, fighting the sting of tears, refusing to let him see just how deep this still hurt. “So you just decided for me? Dean, I’m not some fragile thing. I could’ve handled it”.

Dean sighed heavily, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck, frustration and regret etched into his face. “Hell, (Y/N), you were only sixteen at the time. Sixteen. You were… you were just a kid. You wouldn't have been able to handle it”, he murmured, the words coming out almost reluctantly, like admitting them hurt as much as hearing them.

Your voice came out sharper than you intended, laced with every bit of bitterness and hurt you’d kept buried for years. “What, old enough to get fucked but not old enough to be talked to?”.

Dean flinched, the words hitting him like a slap. For a second, he didn’t look up, the guilt and shame clear on his face as he shifted uncomfortably, searching for the right words. “That… that’s not what I wanted it to be”, he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I never wanted you to feel used, like it didn’t mean anything. Because it did… you meant something to me, (Y/N). More than I knew how to handle back then”.

Dean took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to the floor again as he struggled with words he couldn’t seem to say. The regret was clear in his eyes, the weight of things left unsaid hanging heavy between you.

You could almost see the thoughts playing out in his mind, the memories stirring. Back then, you’d been the only girl to ever make him feel something real—something beyond the easy, shallow hookups he’d drowned himself in afterward. Every girl since had been nothing more than a distraction, a way to bury the ache that losing you had left behind. But with you… it had always been different. You were the one he could never quite forget.

But none of that slipped past his lips. Instead, he stood there, wrestling with the weight of his own silence, unable to give you the honesty you deserved. Maybe he feared it would only hurt you more, or maybe he knew that nothing he said would make this right.

Finally, he looked up, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet, almost desperate plea. “You’re right. You deserved so much better than what I gave you. I thought about coming back more times than I can count. Thought about finding you, explaining… But every time, I stopped myself. Figured you’d moved on, that you were happier without me dragging you down. And… I was scared”. He laughed softly, bitterly. “I was scared of exactly this. Of seeing how much I’d hurt you”.

His words hit you like a wave, but you kept your expression steady, refusing to let the hurt show again.

You sighed, feeling the weight of all those years settle in your chest, a bittersweet ache you’d learned to live with but never really let go of. “I thought so highly of you back then, Dean”, you murmured, a hint of bitterness creeping into your tone. “I guess I was just a stupid little girl, thinking you were… I don’t know, some kind of hero”.

Your gaze flickered over him, taking in the familiar jawline, the strong shoulders, the way he still carried himself with that careless confidence. He looked so much the same that it hurt—like no time had passed at all, like he hadn’t been the ghost haunting your memories, the person you’d tried to convince yourself you were over. And yet, here he was, just as handsome, and the old ache you thought you’d buried crept back in, uninvited and relentless.

Dean looked away, swallowing hard, like your words struck something raw in him. When he met your eyes again, he looked almost small, a shadow of the confident guy you’d known, as if every regret he carried had finally caught up to him.

“You weren’t stupid, (Y/N)”, he said quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You saw something in me I couldn’t see in myself. And maybe I didn’t deserve it. Hell, I know I didn’t. But you were never stupid for believing in me. You were… you were just too good for someone like me. Still are”.

The honesty in his voice was like a knife, cutting through every defense you’d built. You’d wanted him to admit what he’d done, to see how he’d hurt you, but hearing it now, hearing him lay it out in plain words, didn’t bring the satisfaction you’d imagined. It only left a hollow ache where your anger had been.

Dean watched you, his gaze softening as the anger in your eyes began to fade, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable. You’d spent years thinking he was just another guy who wanted what he could get and didn’t care who he hurt to get it. A fling, a mistake, a heartbreak that was yours alone to carry. But as you looked at him now, the regret in his face, the years of silence suddenly seemed to make a little more sense. Maybe it hadn’t been so simple after all.

You could almost see him back then, barely nineteen, just a kid himself, weighed down by responsibilities he never asked for.

-Flashback-

The sun was barely breaking over the horizon that day, casting a dim light across the worn-down motel room they’d been staying in for the past weeks. Dean had just started to drift back to sleep after another restless night when he heard his dad. He groaned, barely cracking his eyes open as his dad’s voice cut through the motel room.

“Dean! Get your ass up, we’re moving out in ten!”.

Dean shot up, a surge of panic replacing the sleep in his veins. “What? Now?”, he mumbled, scrambling out of bed, his heart sinking. They weren’t supposed to leave this town for at least a few more days—long enough for him to say goodbye, to figure out how to explain things to you without breaking every promise he’d made. Long enough to try to leave things right, to tell you why he couldn’t stay.

But John was already packing, barely glancing at him as he tossed weapons into duffel bags, his movements efficient, mechanical. “Got a new job lined up. No time to waste”. He gave Dean a hard look, that unyielding gaze Dean knew better than to question. “You knew we wouldn’t be here forever, son. It’s time to go”.

Dean swallowed hard, dread clawing at him as he glanced over at Sam, who was shoving his clothes into a bag, already resigned to the drill of their lives, even at fifteen. But this time, leaving didn’t feel like any of the others.

He’d thought he had more time with you. Thought maybe he’d found something real, something worth hanging onto, in the middle of all this chaos. He thought maybe you’d understand, maybe you’d wait. Or at least, that he could tell you the truth. That you were more than a distraction from a life that had always felt too heavy for him.

Dean swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he tried to gather the courage to push back, to buy himself just a little more time. He cast a quick glance at his dad, trying to keep his tone casual, like it was no big deal.

“Can’t we at least wait until tomorrow? There’s… there’s something I need to take care of”, he mumbled, hoping that his dad might, for once, let him have this.

But John scoffed, barely pausing in his packing as he tossed another weapon into the duffel. “A thing to take care of?”. He looked up, his mouth twisting into a bitter, sarcastic grin. “Let me guess… that girl. The one who’s got you sneaking around like some lovesick little puppy”.

Dean shifted uncomfortably, his heart sinking as he caught the mocking gleam in his father’s eyes. “It’s not like that”, he said, though even he could hear the weak protest in his voice.

“Sure it isn’t”. John’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he shook his head, chuckling darkly. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to, Dean? I told you weeks ago to cut ends with her. You think this life has room for little Miss Perfect? Some snob who thinks she’s too good for all of this?”.

Dean clenched his fists, his pulse racing as he fought the urge to defend you, to say that you weren’t like that—that you weren’t some spoiled girl who thought herself better than their life. But he knew better than to argue. He’d heard this tone before, the edge that warned him that any pushback would only make things worse.

John went on, shaking his head with an incredulous laugh. “Can’t believe you’re even thinking about her right now. Thought I raised you better than that, son. No girl—especially not some high school princess—is worth dragging yourself through the mud for. What, you think you stand a chance of keeping her? That she’d stick around if she knew the real you? Give me a damn break”.

Dean’s face burned with anger and shame, his heart twisting at the casual cruelty in his father’s voice. He wanted to yell, to tell him that you weren’t just some fling, that you mattered. But every instinct he’d been raised with told him to keep his mouth shut, to hold his feelings tight, because showing them would only lead to disappointment, to the same disapproval he’d grown up under.

John’s gaze hardened, his expression turning cold as he looked Dean up and down, unimpressed. “Get your head out of the clouds, Dean. No piece of ass is worth it, and I’ll tell you right now—no girl’s worth going soft for. Not in this life. So pack up, and let’s go. You’re not risking everything just because you’re chasing after some girl who doesn’t belong here”.

Dean felt a sting in his chest, a hollow ache settling in as he fought to keep his expression steady, to hide just how much those words hurt. In that moment, he realized that arguing would only make things worse, that his dad would never understand. So he swallowed the hurt, burying it as he always did, and forced himself to keep his voice steady, distant.

“Yes, sir”, he muttered, voice barely more than a whisper, feeling the words settle like stones in his gut. He didn’t look up as he zipped his duffel bag shut, his throat tight as he wrestled with the urge to run out the door, to find you, to tell you goodbye.

But he stayed. He let his father’s words sink in, let them mold around his heart like armor. And when he finally climbed into the Impala, eyes fixed on the road ahead, he forced himself to believe what John had said—that you’d be better off without him, that whatever you’d shared was only a distraction from a life he’d never be free from.

As they pulled out of town, he forced himself not to look back, to focus on the road, on the only life he’d ever known. But the image of you, the sound of your laughter, the warmth you’d brought to his life lingered in his mind, haunting him like a ghost he’d never truly escape.

-End of the flashback-

Dean’s eyes flickered back up to you, and you could see the anger and disappointment simmering there, shadows of the memories that had clearly never left him. His father’s words, that hard, dismissive scorn, lingered in the depths of his gaze, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of the pain he’d buried all those years ago.

“I wanted to say goodbye”, he mumbled, almost to himself, the words barely making it past his lips. There was a heaviness in his tone, the regret palpable, and for a brief moment, he looked like that nineteen-year-old kid again, held back by forces he’d been powerless to resist.

Without another word, he drained the rest of his whiskey, his fingers tightening around the glass before he set it down. Then, with a quiet sigh, he rose to his feet, pulling his jacket on, the same guarded, closed-off look returning to his face. You felt the ache in your chest deepen as he moved, like he was preparing to leave you behind all over again.

He took a long breath, his gaze drifting over you, lingering in a way that seemed almost painful for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, a war waging between the urge to stay and the instinct to leave—to protect you from the life he couldn’t escape. Even after all these years, there was something raw and vulnerable in the way he looked at you, as if seeing you now hurt just as much as leaving you had.

You saw his eyes trace over your face, lingering for a moment too long, taking you in as if trying to memorize you all over again. The softness in his gaze twisted something inside you, a reminder of what you’d once shared, of the way he’d looked at you when he thought no one else was watching.

“You know”, he said, his voice low, almost hesitant, “you’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen”. He paused, catching himself, a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips. “Well… woman, by now”.

You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, but you held his gaze, feeling the weight of his words, the years of unspoken things between you. It was the truth, you realized—the same honesty he’d kept hidden all those years ago. But there was a sadness there too, an ache that told you he didn’t think he could ever give you what you deserved.

“Dean”, you whispered, stepping closer, searching his face. “You don’t have to leave again".

He clenched his jaw, glancing away for a second, wrestling with himself, his hands clenching in the pockets of his jacket. “I want to stay. Hell, I want nothing more than to stay“.

Without thinking, Dean reached out, his hand warm as it cupped your face, his thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. He held you like you were something fragile, something he was afraid to let go of but equally afraid to keep holding onto. His gaze softened, his voice dropping to a whisper, rough and broken. “But I do have to leave, sweetheart”, he murmured, almost like he was convincing himself. “I always have to leave”.

The word slipped from his lips, “sweetheart”, and in an instant, you were sixteen all over again.

-Flashback-

The rain had come out of nowhere, heavy drops pelting down in sheets, turning the quiet evening into a storm as you and Dean huddled under the diner’s awning, laughing as you watched the parking lot become a sea of puddles. He was supposed to be walking you home after sharing a couple of milkshakes and a basket of fries, each of you pretending it wasn’t a date but knowing it was.

The rain showed no signs of letting up, and Dean glanced down the street, then back at you, running a hand through his damp hair as he chuckled. “Guess that puts a dent in my plans of playing gentleman and walking you home”.

You smiled, half-shivering as the wind picked up. “I’d say your plans were doomed from the start”.

He laughed, that easy, genuine laugh you’d already grown to love in the few days you’d known him. Then his gaze shifted toward the motel just down the road, a short, drenched run from where you stood. He hesitated, as if deciding whether to risk suggesting it, then shrugged. “We’re just five minutes from where I’m staying… probably closer than your place. Why don’t we wait it out there? Just until the rain lets up”.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks warm despite the cold, and with that unspoken agreement, you broke into a run together, both of you soaked within seconds as you sprinted down the empty street. By the time you stumbled inside his dingy motel room, breathless and laughing, you were dripping wet, water pooling around your feet as you shook out your arms and tried to wring out your hair.

“Looks like we didn’t exactly outrun the storm”, you teased, brushing a strand of soaked hair from your face as you looked around the cramped room, your nerves setting in as the reality of being alone with him settled over you.

Dean grinned, pulling off his jacket and tossing it over a chair. His own hair was plastered to his forehead, and water dripped from the collar of his T-shirt, but he looked at you with that familiar, slightly mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Guess not. But you know, there are worse places to be”.

There was a pause, a stillness that settled between you, the laughter fading as you met his gaze, the dim light from the single lamp casting a soft glow over his face. You saw something shift in his expression, a quiet vulnerability that made your heart race as he took a hesitant step toward you.

Without thinking, you closed the distance, your breaths mingling as you both moved closer, the world outside the room slipping away. Dean’s hand lifted, his fingers tracing along your jawline, gentle but deliberate, like he was afraid of scaring you off. His thumb brushed over your cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that made you shiver, and he leaned in, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours.

“Is this okay?”, he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze searching yours.

You nodded, too lost in the moment to speak, and that was all he needed.

He closed the gap, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft, almost hesitant, like he was still holding back, afraid to take more than he was allowed. But as you melted into him, as your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his hand slipped to the small of your back, the kiss deepened, the world fading to nothing but the feel of him, the warmth of his touch.

His other hand tangled in your damp hair, pulling you closer as if he needed this as much as you did. The intensity of it surprised you, the way he kissed you like you were something he’d been searching for but hadn’t dared to hope he’d find. You felt every unspoken word, every promise he couldn’t make, in the way his hands held you, in the way his lips moved with yours.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and a little dazed, he looked at you with a softness you hadn’t seen before, a quiet reverence that made your heart ache. “You’re… something else, Sweetheart”, he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, a confession that felt like a secret he hadn’t meant to share.

The rain outside was forgotten, the cold fading as you looked at him, feeling, in that moment, that he was the only person in the world.

-End of the flashback-

The memory faded, but the feeling lingered, that same warmth flooding your chest even now, five years later. Standing here with him, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, the years between you seemed to vanish, leaving only that undeniable pull that had drawn you to him back then—the one that still left you breathless.

Dean’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand still cradling your face, his touch just as tender, just as careful as it had been that night. You felt the years of anger and hurt begin to unravel, slipping away in the quiet, unspoken apology in his gaze. Even now, after everything, he still had the power to make you feel like that sixteen-year-old girl, standing in the glow of his attention, melting under the weight of his presence.

Dean’s gaze held yours, his thumb tracing one last gentle line over your cheek, the faintest tremor in his touch. His voice, low and rough, barely broke through the silence as he murmured, “But this time… you get a goodbye”. His words hung in the air, laced with a finality that tugged painfully at your heart. His hand slipped away, falling slowly, as though he were reluctant to break the connection, and you felt the warmth of his touch linger on your skin even after it was gone.

Just then, you saw movement from the corner of your eye, and Sam stepped out from where he’d been standing a little way off, his presence cautious, like he was unsure if this was the right moment to interrupt. His gaze flicked between you and Dean, a mixture of concern and understanding in his eyes.

Dean glanced over at his brother, his jaw tightening briefly, then gave a short nod as if signaling that it was time. Sam shifted, visibly uncomfortable, but nodded back, clearly catching onto something unspoken between them.

You looked at Dean, your chest heavy, a thousand words hovering on the edge of your lips, none of them able to break the ache settling inside you. He was here now, right in front of you, and yet it felt like he was already gone again, slipping through your fingers like he always had.

“Dean…”, you began, your voice barely more than a whisper, not even sure what you wanted to say—only that the thought of him leaving, of watching him disappear one more time, felt unbearable.

Dean’s gaze lingered on you, his expression a mix of longing and regret. He gave you that small, sad smile again, the one that barely reached his eyes but held a world of unspoken words. "Take care, sweetheart", he murmured, his voice rough, each syllable feeling like a farewell he wasn’t quite ready to give. He brushed his fingers lightly over your arm, the touch so soft it sent goosebumps skittering across your skin, a reminder of the warmth he’d once brought into your life, now bittersweet and fading too quickly.

He turned to leave, his back already to you, and something inside you snapped—an urge, a need to hold onto this moment, to keep him here just a second longer. Without thinking, you reached out, your hand catching his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He turned back, surprise flickering in his eyes as he looked down at you, and before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you.

Rising onto your toes, you slid your hand up to the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. His breath catching as you pulled him down, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft yet fierce, filled with the years of longing and questions you’d never had the chance to voice. He hesitated, just for a heartbeat, and then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he returned the kiss with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling gently in your hair, as his lips moved with yours, slow and purposeful, as if trying to make up for all the lost time in this one stolen moment. The world around you faded, the sounds of the bar, the ticking clock, all slipping away as you sank into him, feeling the strength of his arms, the familiarity of his touch. You felt his heart beating against yours, strong and steady, grounding you in a way only he ever had.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes met his, breath mingling in the small space between you. His gaze was softened, his expression more vulnerable than you’d ever seen, as though he was as taken by surprise as you were by the depth of what had just passed between you.

“That’s a proper goodbye”, you whispered, a faint blush coloring your cheeks despite yourself, but you held his gaze, not wanting to break the connection.

His lips curved into the faintest of smiles, a glint of that familiar warmth sparking in his eyes. You reached into your bag, your fingers brushing against the worn card you always kept there—a small, simple card from your bookstore, printed with your name and number. You handed it to him, your hand lingering as he took it from you, his fingers brushing yours in a touch that felt both comforting and electric.

“Call me”, you said softly, barely above a whisper, your voice carrying a warmth and a hope you hadn’t let yourself feel in years. “When you’re around again… I’ll pay you back with a milkshake”.

He looked down at the card in his hand, tracing his thumb over the print before glancing back at you, a mixture of amusement and something deeper in his eyes. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just held your gaze, as if committing this moment, this feeling, to memory.

Finally, he nodded, tucking the card carefully into his pocket. “I’ll hold you to that”, he said, his voice low, a promise wrapped in that quiet tone.

With one last lingering look, he turned, his hand trailing down your arm until his fingers slipped away. And as he left, you felt a strange sense of peace settle in your chest, a hope that maybe this time, things wouldn’t end with silence and an empty space where he’d been. The ache was still there, but it was softened by the warmth of his touch, his kiss, and the quiet promise that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t the end.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 Not gonna lie.. I think this is my favorite so far

-

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573

[jaylver]

ROCKLAND — P.SH

synopsis: almost like a nightmare, park sunghoon plagues your present just as much as your past regrets had done. however, this time around, you and him decided to right your wrongs one last time.

pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader

genre: exes to lovers, miscommunications, angst, second chance romance

warning(s): profanities, brief mentions of smoking, drinking, partying and alcohol

wc: 8k

a/n: i'm BACK. this has been in the works for far too long because of the constant writer's block so i'm not sure if it's good or not, plus it's my first exes to lovers so please be nice <3 greatly inspired by gracie abram's "rockland", so do give it a listen too! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

If there was one thing you’d regret forever in this lifetime, it would be ending things with the love of your life.

You admit it, you’re selfish. Selfish for wanting to leave the town you grew to hate, selfish for prioritising yourself and chasing your dreams, choosing to leave the people you loved instead. Painted a villain in the eyes of many close to the person you once went home to and even the man himself. But, how could he fully blame you when he was equally selfish too?

Park Sunghoon thought keeping you in the cage of this small town was going to make him a happy man. He often fantasised about the possibility of you and his future together, completely pushing aside the thought of you leaving, until it actually happened.

He was angry. He let himself be consumed by his own feelings and mindlessly projecting his anger and blame on you, while you regretfully did the same.

Pools of tears and venomous words spewed out of impulse left you scarred and broken down. It was a bad ending that you’d see in movies coming to life. The moment you had everything packed and goodbyes said, you figured leaving was for the best, now that your ex hates you and his friends who probably felt the same. 

It was a shame, though. Heading to somewhere far from home with a heavy heart knowing you didn’t have the chance to see him once more. Frankly, you were a coward, and so was he.

That explained why returning back home was the scariest thing you had to face in a while. 

It was ironic, wasn't it? Coming back to the place you wished for years to escape and actually doing so, but eventually having to return after you dropped out of the college that you've been praying and praying to get into, only for it to be overwhelming and the city lights couldn't compare to the starry night of your hometown.

You suppose you got the thing you wanted, but it just wasn't what you imagined.

Freshly twenty-two and out of school, you figured home was what you needed in your next step before deciding if you should re enrol. However, you find yourself not having the guts to face your family and friends, not after the promises turned out to be empty. 

"You should quit smoking," 

Yunjin, your cousin and practically your closest friend growing up, was just a distance away when you spotted her, leaning against her car with a cigarette in hand. You found it amusing how she didn't cave into vapes instead in this day and age. 

"Y/N!" She pushed the bud of her half smoked cigarette into the wall, then started jogging towards you, her dress flowing in the wind and boots making obnoxious clicks against the ground. There was a sense of relief in her eyes, her usual smile that you missed graced your presence. "God, I missed you, things aren't the same without you here,"

In the span of a few seconds of her hug, you took the chance to digest her words. Did that mean the traditions you've upheld are now gone? Parties, trips to the beach, all those? 

"What?"

Yunjin pulled away, still managing a small smile. "I don't think things were ever the same since you left … and after you broke up with Sunghoon,"

You blinked, looking away into the distance. "I don't think I'll be welcomed,"

Yunjin scoffed, slapping your arm and scurrying to get your bags. "Don't say that! So not true. Everyone in the family is waiting for you to be back—"

"And talk behind my back about my failure in graduating? Yeah, no,"

‘‘That’s not going to happen,” Yunjin sighed, struggling with your bags and declining your help, but you still forcefully grabbed some knowing she’d eventually crumble. “I think they’ll get it,”

Would they?

Once you are settled into the car, bags successfully loaded into the trunk, you let yourself melt into the comforts of Yunjin’s passenger seat, finally getting to close your eyes and drift away. You thought it was best before having to face everything and everyone once again.

“What’s your plan now, anyway?”

Without opening your eyes, you envisioned a distant image in your head. “Take my time off and see if I’d like to re enrol or not. If I don’t, I’ll just go plan B,”

“Which is?”

“Accept the job offer in London,”

Yunjin almost hit the brakes out of shock, the news that came from you felt like it had hit her in the face, but somehow, she managed to keep her cool and not get you both killed. “What?” she shrieked.

“What?” you questioned back, sounding nonchalant as if this was just another normal offer that didn’t seem particularly significant. But it was.

“You have a job offer in London and you’re coming back here,”

“I left the city for a reason, it’d be stupid to go to another one right after,”

Yunjin exhaled, blinking in stupor. “Right,”

“How’s … everyone?”

Yunjin knew you weren’t referring to your family. Of course you’d know how your own family was doing, that’s a no brainer. What you were trying to mean was your old friend group. You couldn’t blame them for being mad at you, after all you were only a part of it because of Sunghoon.

“Heeseung’s graduating soon,” this was the first update you’ve gotten from Yunjin after those years away. It took you every will not to ask her about them, but here you were now, finally giving in. “They’re still the same, nothing’s changed,”

“What about him?”

Yunjin seemed hesitant, obviously holding back something that she didn’t want you to know. “I’m not going to explode upon hearing, you know that, right?” you joked lightheartedly, but secretly dreading hearing about him.

“I think he’s seeing someone,”

“Good for him,” 

Would it be a crime to admit that you still missed your ex? Something in you was wishing you could rekindle a connection again now that you’re back, but all that hope shattered. If he had already moved on, why couldn’t you? Even after knowing how he probably hated and resented you for doing what you did, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate him back. 

“That’s all?”

“You want me to go full crazy ex mode? You’re insane,” you shook your head, smiling a little, hoping Yunjin didn’t notice the speck of sadness swimming in your irises. “Whoever she is, I’m sure that I would like her … if I were slightly nicer,”

She let out a ‘tch’ in response, though grinning. “What are you going to do with them around? There’s no way you’d be able to fully avoid them,”

“What can I do? I’ll just have to coexist.”

Coexist was a funny word. How were you able to do that when you couldn’t even fully get over Sunghoon in the first place? Thinking about meeting him in flesh already made you feel like doubling over and projectile vomit. That was how pathetic you were, what a shame. 

Settling in was easy. It was natural to be back home, way better than being in the noisy city and constantly surrounded by a bunch of fake friends. The question of why you left in the first place started burning your mind as you tossed around trying to sleep, but it only persisted to bug you. Then came the thoughts of Sunghoon and the friends you left behind, which prompted you to be fully awake, sitting up in bed.

It wasn't the greatest idea to reach for your phone and search for his contact name, just to recall the day you deleted his number. Yet, your memory never failed you, remembering the digits like it was first instinct, fingers already typing his number. Your thumb hovered over the green call button, a haze in your mind.

Inevitably, you shut your phone and dug your head into your pillow. He would've laughed then, if he had seen this happen, the exact moment of you almost caving in and finally saying the sorry you never gave him.

The pictures you saw of him on social media here and there made you wonder how he was and if he had already forgotten about you. There were a few recurring appearances of a girl that seemed to linger by his side in group pictures that caught your eyes. Who took your bed when you left? Who laughed at everything that he said? Was it that girl?

Just like the time you first had a crush on Sunghoon, you stayed awake thinking about him, except this time around, you were filled with regret instead of hope. 

"Heeseung asked me about you,"

Yunjin's random confession in the middle of the day had surprised you. Lee Heeseung, the best friend of your ex who you swore hated your guts, asked about you? Shocker.

"What did you say?"

"I said something along the lines of you figuring out life and just chilling here until the time comes," Yunjin shrugged, and you nodded slowly. "But there's something he said that made me a bit … confused?"

"What?"

"He said they wanted to see you again," 

You raised your eyebrows, a hint of scepticism flashed over your eyes. "They want to see me? Tell me a better joke next time, thanks,"

"I'm not joking! I mean, he did say excluding Sunghoon, but the other guys wanted to know how you were now that you're back," Yunjin winced a little at the mention of your ex, but you waved it off.

"Are they treating me to dinner or something?"

"Well … no. But Heeseung asked me to bring you to their next party, which is in a few days," Yunjin's gaze softened, hand patting your back. "You know you don't have to come if you don't want to. I mean, after all that happened with you and them and Sunghoon,"

You let out a small sigh, absentmindedly fidgeting your fingers. "It's all in the past now. I'm sure Sunghoon has moved on with another girl, and maybe—just maybe—the guys do hate me less."

You never went to that party Yunjin mentioned.

It was hard to admit but you knew, deep inside you, you were afraid, too cowardly to face the people you once knew. Instead, you chose to linger around like a lost soul in a town full of the ghosts of your past. 

It didn't help that the party was also in Sunghoon's house. How did they expect you to go in the first place? You thought you'd never step foot in there after you broke it off with him, and you were adamant on keeping it that way, but your heart got the worst of you.

On the night of the party, you drove around the neighbourhood, eventually stopping across the street of his house. You didn't know what got to you to do so, but you guessed reminiscence and bright lights coming from the house were the reason. The music was loud, people were coming in and out of the house, and the only thing you could think of was him.

That thought alone was enough to have you drive away, leaving the house further and further away into the background just as the memories of him being pushed into the back of your mind.

Rotting in your bed wasn't how your early 20s were meant to be spent, and avoiding almost everyone most definitely wasn't the case either.

Your family and Yunjin were the only people you saw daily, as for the friends you once had, they were long forgotten or didn't even bother to reach out. Except for Heeseung and the others.

That, to you, was a really funny thing to think about. People who stuck by you after the break up and swore to be your closest friends didn't try contacting you once you moved back, knowing damn well word traveled fast in the town; whereas the friends you thought hated you were the first to reach out.

"I'll go to that party," you said to Yunjin on a sunny afternoon tanning session by the pool, sunglasses sitting on the bridge of your nose, hiding the apprehension in your eyes.

"Really?" Yunjin almost jumped out of her seat. It was a party she had brought up days ago, still persistent on taking you out. At least this time around, it wasn't in Sunghoon's house, but her friend Chaewon's. "That's great! Chaewon and the girls are super nice, you'll love them. Let's pick a nice outfit for you, okay?"

Yunjin was by far the most enthusiastic one between you and her. She was picking out dresses and tops, literally rummaging through your closet for anything, and you had to remind her it was just a college party. So, you settled for a skirt and a plain top. 

"Will you be okay? I'll stick by you," Yunjin had her arms around you, standing by the front door of Chaewon's house, hearing the music blaring from the inside.

"I'm fine—I think I'll be fine—I just don't want to run away from everyone anymore," it was mostly true, you thought it was inevitable to hide all the time, that wasn't how you're going to spend your life living.

"If there's anything, tell me, okay? We'll leave if you're getting sick," Yunjin gave your arm a final squeeze of assurance before crossing the threshold. 

It was the same as every party you've gone to. Loud music, drunk college kids, liquor and beers strayed around, it reeked of your nightmare in a nutshell there. 

Yunjin's friends were all as lovely as she had promised. The host herself was wobbling on her feet but managed to grace you with her humour. There was Sakura and Kazuha that you learned were foreign students. 

Throughout the night, you were stuck by Yunjin, going from circle to circle and introducing yourself or recognising some of your past school mates. But, almost inevitably so, Heeseung, Jay and Jake had made an appearance too.

"Y/N," Jay was the first to call your name, causing you to turn your head at the familiar voice. 

Your thoughts during then were jumbled into a mess. The people you were fighting to avoid were standing in front of you, all of which were much different than the memories you had of them in mind. 

Three of them had grown taller, gained some muscles and matured in many ways. Jay's hair was dyed pink, Heeseung got new piercings and Jake had a tattoo on his finger. It was strange to admit they're the same people you knew despite feeling the complete opposite of familiarity.

"Hey—" you were cut off by Jay closing in and pulling you into a hug, this for once was something you remembered about him.

"We're so glad you're back," he whispered into your hair, squeezing you tight. It reminded you then that you were friends with him and the guys before you even dated Sunghoon, that connection was deeper than it seemed, and for it to be severed just because of a breakup was gut wrenching to realise. "We're sorry, Y/N, we're so sorry,"

His apology was genuine, that's for sure. Once you pull away, you let both Heeseung and Jake take turns to hug you, whispering apologies into your ear. It was odd, to accept their apologies and having to start afresh. You held onto them, just taking it in. To forgive was a big step, but maybe it was your first step.

You sat there, catching up with them and slowly getting comfortable just like the old days. Heeseung graduated and got a good job offer, Jay and Jake were still studying, both of which were in the same university. You were relieved there was nothing too awkward between you and them, or else you would have regretted your choices.

The night continued on with a few small talks and eventually you had to excuse yourself to the toilet. You wondered how Chaewon's house was so big, with halls that seemed to never end, or it could just be the effects of alcohol.

Stumbling around, you held onto the walls, passing by rooms occupied by people probably doing something unspeakable. You thought your peace of mind would be intact until the end of the night, but you were wrong. Upon turning a corner, you froze.

It was Sunghoon. It was him.

Grief was a funny feeling, especially when it comes to someone you once knew. You stared at him and there he was, like a ghost from your past coming back to haunt you. He was the shell of the person you loved, and you couldn't help but grieve the person he once was. What was he like now? 

Before you could even turn around and make a run for it, his wandering eyes landed on you. He had the same thought process as you. Realisation, panic, sadness, confusion all mixed into a heap of feelings. 

Your feet started moving on its own, as you stepped back, he took a step forward. Your breath became ragged, heart thumping hard and blood pumping in your ears. He was nearing, and you were running away, it was the same as before.

"Y/N!" He called out, and all it took was him to say your name again to have you stop in your tracks. Gosh, you were pathetic.

He was standing before you now, closer than he was a moment ago. It was then you realised how much he had changed too. 

He was taller, smile lines etched much deeper into his face, almost changing along the same wavelengths with the others. There was something different about the way he looked at you, however. From love in his eyes that eventually changed into hatred was now filled with longing and confusion.

"Y/N," he repeated, disbelief evident in his voice, as if he couldn't believe you were there. 

"Sunghoon," you blinked, a frown unknowingly making its way to your face. You let a few beats of silence pass, conflicted and nervous. "I—I should leave,"

"No—!" his hand reached out for you, but you didn't feel his touch. He didn't dare to touch you, letting his hand linger before pulling it back to his side. "I mean, you don't have to leave,"

"I thought you hate me,"

Sunghoon's gaze fell to the floor, jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed. He met your eyes once more. "I should hate you, shouldn't I? But I don't think I do, I never did,"

You blinked, a little surprised, a little hurt. All along he had made you think he hated your guts but he actually didn't? "Oh," you seemed to have lost the ability to talk or to compute a proper sentence.

You thought of the things you wanted to ask him. If he was still angry at you or if things were working for him. But, what came out was the question you've stored in the back of your mind instead.

"Are you with someone new?"

You figured he didn't expect such a question from you, much as you didn't expect yourself saying it. It was an itching thought, one that made you look like a typical ex, but you couldn't help it.

"I'm not," he sounded almost exasperated, as if having to squash down this rumour for the thousandth time.

"Oh … oh," you didn't know what to say, averting your gaze away from him and finding comfort in the wall behind him. 

Sunghoon paused, gaze following yours, looking reluctant whether or not to continue the conversation, but alas, he did. "How have you been?"

"Bad," you laughed a little, and Sunghoon's ears perked at the sound of it that he hasn't heard for ages. "You?"

"I quit skating,"

That was surprising. How could he have? Skating was his dream, his past, present and supposed future, but now, it came crashing down. You didn't know if you should feel sorry for him, as you have been a part of his journey, but one bit of you also seemed to have started mourning the changed Sunghoon that stood before you.

"Why?"

He shrugged, hands slipping into his pocket with a solemn look. "I lost interest. I'm into music now, I'm in a band with the guys,"

You heaved a breath, a deep one. Ironic it was that he was doing music now when he was the one criticising you in the past for wanting to pursue it. Who even was this person? With a new appearance came a new personality, he was much further away than you thought despite the physical distance.

"You've changed," you didn't know what prompted you to say that, maybe it was the disbelief or the denial that he was someone new, but whatever it was, neither of you could deny the fact that he did change. "I'm scared of the person you've become,"

A beat passed, an unreadable expression on Sunghoon's face that you couldn't distinguish even though by now you thought you'd know every one of them. 

"And I'm scared you're still the same."

Seeing Sunghoon that night seemed to have altered something in your life. Somehow, he was everywhere you went. 

Who was working at the register? Sunghoon. Who was at the park? Sunghoon. Who was at the party Yunjin managed to drag you to? Sunghoon.

It was haunting.

All those little encounters didn't mean you talked to him like normal, though. The awkward tension in the air still remained, seeing each other only reminded you and him both of your pasts, and you hated it. That explained why you were having a hard time seeing him at another party you were at.

Yunjin was much more of a party goer than you expected, and she successfully convinced you to go to all of them. It was fun until you got drunk and started being emotional. Your efforts of hiding from Sunghoon that night failed when he barged into the empty room you were sobbing in, whether it was accidental or not, you didn't know, you wished to not know.

"Y/N?"

His voice brought back the times he called your name. Both the good and bad ones. You stared up at him from the ground, tears welling your eyes. The person you were looking at was someone you thought was a soulmate, but now stood as someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

"W–what are you doing here? Why are you crying?"

The alcohol messing with your brain was processing his words, but what came out from your lips was the total opposite of an answer. "I'm sorry, Hoonie," 

Sunghoon's eyes widened at the nickname, the privilege that only you had. He kneeled down, taking a seat on the ground opposite you, a visible distance in between.

"I hate this—us—I feel like if we gave it one night, to talk, to just feel—you'd hate me less and make it alright," you choked back the sobs building up in your throat, the dizziness making you unaware of how Sunghoon reached out only to hesitate and pressed his hand back to his side. "Just wish that we could fight now, I'd hold you on the comedown …" your voice faltered, head leaning onto the wall.

"Y/N, you're drunk, we can talk this out another day," Sunghoon striped off his jacket and covered your exposed thighs with it. "Just … don't avoid me. I–I don't hate you, I just hope we can have a decent conversation without thinking about the past,"

He admitted it, how the two of you had secretly been thinking about the past, letting it be a big wall in between instead of growing from it. Yet, you could tell the unspoken anger and sadness still lingered, choosing to pour out gradually and unknowingly.

"Bet you wish you never even met me," you started slurring, hand gripping onto his jacket tightly. "I can't blame you, I broke your every heartbeat," your eyes were shut, images playing in your mind, not knowing the saddened look dawning on Sunghoon's face.

"Let's get you back."

In your sleep that night, you saw him. He was there, so far yet so close, and just like reality, he was hard to reach, harder to understand compared to before. He was a knife cutting deep, leaving a mark that constantly reminded you of the past. 

How could you even make everything go back to the way it was?

Sunghoon was on your front door step the night everyone was out for dinner except you. 

You hadn't expected him to turn up, thinking it'd be you that stood at his doorstep instead as you still had his jacket from that party (which you do not want to think about again).

"Sunghoon. Hey," the door was opened and you leaned against it, trying your best at hiding the hint of pining in your gaze. 

"Oh, hey," he greeted back rather stiffly, dressed in a simple attire with the classic white Lacoste sneakers that he always wore. "I–I wanted to—"

"Take your … jacket?" You cut him off half way, nerves wrecking your brain.

A beat passed, Sunghoom visibly gulped. "Y–Yeah, my jacket,"

"I'll go grab it for you," you jerked your thumb over your shoulder, awkwardly scurrying back in to retrieve his jacket and coming back to see him chewing on his bottom lip, seemingly nervous. "Here. Thanks for it,"

"No problem," Sunghoon coughed, grabbing the jacket but absolutely paying no mind to it. His stare was straight at you.

"That's all, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Yeah," you echoed, hating the sudden rigidness between the two of you. "Bye then, Sunghoon,"

"Bye," Sunghoon said, looking dazed. Weird.

You saw him backing away and decided to close the door, but before you could even do so, a force had stopped you from closing it. Not a force, much rather a hand, his hand. The door was pushed open, and you physically jumped at the suddenness of it. Your eyes met Sunghoon's sorrowful ones.

"Don't push me away, Y/N, not again,"

"Sunghoon," 

He made his way in, closing the door behind him and you let him. Was this seriously happening?

"You said you wanted to give us one night to talk, so I'm here now. I didn't care about the jacket, I cared about you. I hate seeing us like this, it's like we're strangers," Sunghoon let out a frustrated huff, eyebrows furrowed.

"We can't just pretend nothing has happened between us,"

"So you want me to hate you instead? You're saying as if it's easy, Y/N, feelings don't work that way!"

"Then how do we go back to how it was? We can't, that's the truth. You're not the same person I used to know,"

"Cut the bullshit. I'm the same as I was, maybe just a little different than I was years ago, but that doesn't change anything. When does that ever stop you from loving?"

Were you too scared to love?

Sunghoon ran his hand across his face, wetting his lips. "You’re scared of change, and I don’t think that’s something new about you,” 

Ouch.

“But I really wish you could let it all go. I don’t hate you, nor do I harbour any anger regarding the things that happened years ago. It hurts, it did, but seeing you now made me feel the opposite of all those emotions,” Sunghoon took a deep breath in, and you were holding yours. “I think about you a lot, actually. I regretted a lot of the things I said and done, and I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being there for you and giving you the support you needed. I should've fought for us and not leave, I–I—" Sunghoon choked, unable to hold in his overpowering emotions anymore.

You didn’t say anything, instinctively closing in and pulling him into your arms, letting his head lie on your shoulder, ignoring the feeling of his warm tears soaking the fabric of your shirt. "I'm sorry too, for leaving you so easily,"

You stood there with Sunghoon in your arms, inevitably crying along and sobbing out your own apologies, the ones you had owed him and hidden all these years. He held you tight just as you did, and it felt like the nights he had you in his arms whenever you cried. You eventually calmed down whereas Sunghoon was still composing himself, avoiding your gaze.

You took the opportunity to hug him again, tighter and firmer this time, as if trying to stop him from running away. 

"Can we start over? I don't want us to be strangers," 

You heard a sniffle, then a shaky breath of relief. "I'd love to,"

Pulling away, you locked eyes with him. They were twinkling brighter than the stars in the skies outside, filled with a spark of hope. "I'll make us some hot tea. Do you want to … stay over?"

"Can I?"

"I really want you to."

It didn't take more to convince Sunghoon to stay, all you had to do was ask and he'd listen. 

That night, you and him hid in your room, talking for the whole night until the break of dawn. Nothing about the way he talked had changed, nor his laughter or the crinkles around his eyes when he smiled. He told you about the band and some side gigs, offering to bring you to some too. 

You laid there in bed laughing all night, occasionally peeking over the side of your bed to check up on him who slept on the extra mattress, only to meet his eyes and freeze. 

The red string of fate tying you and him together was beginning to reform.

Not feeling dread every time you saw Sunghoon was a new start for you. In fact, you were glad to see him. 

The misunderstandings and complexity built up over the years were finally addressed, leaving you to peace and a small hope of rebuilding what you had with him. But you kept that thought away for now, holding onto the pieces you had at the moment.

"Come to one of my gigs," Sunghoon made a trip to your house on a random afternoon, a box of your favourite chocolate covered strawberries in his hand. He never forgot anything about you, didn't he?

"Are you bribing me or asking me?" You said despite accepting the box, your heart squeezing at the thought of him remembering the littlest details about you.

"I'm asking you but also offering a gift," he let himself in, almost like always, and you didn't even notice, just letting him do so. "I saw it and I thought of you so I got it,"

"Thanks," you waved the box a little, setting it down on the table and leaning slightly against it. "You still remember," 

His gaze softened. "Of course I do," his hand by his side was itching to reach out, but it never did, instead, he played it off by giving you a smile. "So, what do you say? This Saturday, watch our gig at the pub," 

"Are you singing?"

"I wish I did," he laughed, and you momentarily recalled the times you had karaoke sessions with him. Curse reminiscence. "I play the bass, Heeseung's the front man," 

You nodded slowly, picturing them as a band and smiling slowly. You've missed them, and it was then when you realised it. "I'll go,"

"Really?"

"Obviously, do you want me to say no?"

"Well, no," Sunghoon chuckled, quite literally unable to hide his excitement from the way he's grinning widely. "I'm just … glad, and surprised, and happy,"

You bit back a smile, shaking your head at him. "Text me the details, will you? I don't want to miss it."

Saturday rolled around quickly. You and Yunjin were sitting in a corner of the pub, beers on the table and whispering gossip about some of your high school classmates. High school might've ended years ago but gossip never stopped.

"Alright, folks, the next act is someone you already know, they are not strangers," the manager of the pub stepped onto the small stage, announcing Sunghoon and the guy's band. "Please welcome … April Nights!"

April? 

You bit your tongue, an odd feeling boiling in your stomach. April was the month you broke up with Sunghoon and left for university, it was more than just a coincidence for him and his band to have 'April' in their name. All you knew was the sinking feeling never went away.

"You alright?" Yunjin noticed your silence, casting a worried glance at you.

"April …" you mumbled, eyes staring straight ahead at Sunghoon who was setting up his bass on stage. "There must be something behind it,"

"What?"

"Nothing,"

You shook away that feeling currently eating up and put your focus on Sunghoon instead. It wasn't your first time watching him perform. It has always been him on ice in a big arena, but now it was him on a small stage at a dingy pub.

Sunghoon's eyes wandered all over the room, finally landing on you, a smile spreading on his pretty face. You managed a small smile, waving a little to let him know you're there, you're actually there and not a figment of his imagination, a dream that he has been wishing on for far too long.

The first song they played was an ABBA song. To be specific, it was your favourite ABBA song that you would listen to with Sunghoon in the past. Was it a coincidence?

You knew Heeseung had a vocal of stars, but to hear it for the first time in years was sending you into heaven. However, you failed to keep your focus on him, redirecting it to the bassist. You couldn't stop looking at Sunghoon, and his gaze wouldn't leave yours either. 

The second song soon came by, and at that point onwards, you knew it wasn't a coincidence. It only took two songs for you to realise that Sunghoon had prepared a set list of your favourite songs. The band was currently playing Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls, a song you had loved ever since forever.

You shouldn't be feeling light headed, but you were.

The set ended almost a few hours later. It was filled with your favourite songs, undoubtedly. The whole time, you were truly holding your breath, especially when Sunghoon was holding your gaze.

While people were filing in and out of the pub gradually, you stayed. It was well past midnight and Yunjin's cheeks were pink from the alcohol, wandering off to join Heeseung and the others. You, on the other hand, were sober as hell, waiting for Sunghoon with nerve wrecking anticipation.

"Hey, hey, hey. How did we do?" Sunghoon slid into a seat like an apparition appearing out of thin air. You jumped a little, but melted into a smile at the sight of him.

"You guys were great," it was genuine, because they did do amazing, probably more than just amazing. "'April nights', an interesting name,"

Realisation dawned on Sunghoon's face, he swallowed thickly. "I—yeah. April was an interesting month,"

"The set list …"

"Right, the set list," he chuckled, shifting on his feet a little nervously and stiffly. "I figured since you're here I'll play some of your favourite songs,"

"Oh," you let out softly, not knowing what else to say, this was something you found yourself acting around Sunghoon now. "That's … nice,"

Sunghoon gouged your expressions and the tone of your voice, a slow frown etching onto his tired face. "Did you not … like it? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable,"

"No, it's not that! I'm just—" you paused, thinking of an appropriate word to describe how you felt. Frankly, you didn't know your exact feelings. "—surprised and … confused?"

"Confused?"

"Sunghoon, we're exes, and you pulling this isn't exactly helping—this—" you gestured to the space between you and him. "Us,"

Sunghoon was silent for a moment, occasionally opening his mouth to say something just to close it before he could. "I—maybe I read it all wrong, I thought—you know what, forget it,"

"Don't. Just tell me," you reached over for him, but didn't touch his hand. "What are we? We're not exactly best friends nor are we enemies. I don't want any tension between us and I don't want you to think you have zero chance at all," you breathed, searching for his eyes. "I would want us to work out again, if that's what you want too,"

Sunghoon's eyes glistened with a spark of hope, relief washing over his face. It was an answer to his question. "I want us to work out. I want us to have another chance," his hand reached out for yours the first time since you've seen each other, feeling the warmth of his touch that you were no stranger to. He carefully and gently intertwined his hand with yours.

"We'll always find our way back to each other."

It was odd but comforting to know that nothing has changed when it came to you and Sunghoon.

Sunghoon brought you to your favourite places, ate your favourite dishes, did your favourite activities as an attempt to rekindle everything back. Safe to say it was working.

Just like the first dates you had together, you felt yourself having the same bubbly feeling internally, the same giggles you caught yourself having after a stupid joke he made. Despite all that, over the course of a few weeks, it had you wondering about your relationship with him.

"Will you date him again?" Yunjin could tell you were struggling, even if you didn't say it, it was still quite evident.

"What's with the sudden question?"

"Well, considering he has taken you out on so many dates and still hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend again, I could tell you're troubled,"

"Okay, mind reader," you grumbled and shifted in your seat, hating how right she was. "He said he wanted to give us a chance again, so I was expecting that—you know—we'd get back together soon,"

"Your 'soon' seems a bit urgent, but I don't blame you," Yunjin shrugged, gaze softening at your words. "I can tell how much love there still is between the two of you. It's natural to gravitate towards each other, but time, time is what you need to heal the scars, Y/N. It's been years, give yourself time."

You suppose giving yourself time truly was what you needed. But when you mentally said you needed space, you didn't mean wanting Sunghoon to ignore you. 

That's right. He was ignoring you.

How did you know? Apparently, the hard way.

Calls, messages were all brushed aside. You didn't even see him physically. At one point, you considered him dead, but seeing him at a party proved to you that he wasn't.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Cornering him was a challenge, but being headstrong and slightly buzzed, nothing could possibly stop you.

"Y/N?"

"Wow, I'm surprised you remember my name," you seethed, almost stumbling forward and throwing a punch at him. "So, we're playing the game where you get back at me and ghost me after all that we've been through lately? Sweet! Could've given me a head's up though,"

"What? You're the one who's planning to abandon me just like before!"

"What are you even saying?" 

"Your email, Y/N. I saw your email. How you have a big job in London and you just can't wait to join, throwing me away like a summer's fling right before you leave,"

"You're not making any sense, I'm not accepting that role!" You were heaving at anger at this point, matching the fumes emitting from Sunghoon's ears. "You dickhead! I'm literally throwing my dreams away and you're here thinking I'm leaving you again? Is that what you thought of first? Oh, maybe you could've just asked me, but you didn't, just like the past,"

Bringing up the past had triggered something not only in you but him. He blinked, keeping silent but chewing anxiously on the inside of his cheek. 

"You never changed, huh?"

You heaved a deep breath, shaking your head a little, not to answer his question, but at him. 

"Well I guess that makes the both of us."

"I fucked it up, didn't I?"

The night after the confrontation, you woke up on Yunjin's couch with a hangover thanks to your habit of drinking your problems away. Remembering Sunghoon's face and the feelings you felt literally had you shrivelling back into the couch, a deep frown etched on your face.

"Partly, yes, but mostly, no," you felt the couch dip beneath Yunjin's weight as she joined your side, a warm cup of coffee in her hand. "He fucked up first, but I think it's all just a big misunderstanding,"

"I don't we've healed from it," you took the cup from her and drank from it. "He's scared of me leaving and I was considering leaving again. Maybe we're just not meant to be,"

Yunjin sighed, moving her body closer to you and placing a comforting hand on yours. "If you're not leaving, that means you're staying, which also means you get to make it right. You get to have time to mend it all unlike the last time,"

"I have to make it right, don't I?"

A nod of confirmation from Yunjin was all you needed to know your next step. So, you decided to show up at his gig in the same exact pub without thinking through it twice.

"He's not here tonight," Heeseung looked thoroughly puzzled by your sudden appearance, and it seemed none of them knew about the small altercation you had with Sunghoon. 

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's been acting a bit … off. We asked him to take a night off, maybe you should give him a call."

If only it was that easy. 

Walking back home with a dejected heart was not the plan you had in mind. A part of you even thought this was truly the end, maybe he reached the conclusion of going no contact and you have no choice but to accept it. Was this karma?

It didn't help that you walked past the park that you and Sunghoon used to run off to back in the past.  The exact bench which you and him sat on still resided there. Your curious mind led your legs towards it, taking a seat and remembering all the memories you shared with him. 

Being alone under the night sky and getting accompanied by the dim light coming from the street lamp had given you a chance to rethink your choices about coming back home, whether it was worth it to see Sunghoon once again and try for the closure you never got. Well, look where it got you now.

The ruffles of the leaves got you snapping your head towards the direction of the noise, but it only landed on a figure.

"Y/N?"

You squinted, waiting until the figure walked under the streetlamp to distinguish that it was … Sunghoon. You should be feeling glad now that he was there in front you, but why were you feeling the exact opposite?

"Sunghoon? W–what are you doing here?" You stood up, watching him getting closer, the anguish in his face was clear.

"I–I … I went to look for you," he started, carefully and slowly inching closer until there's a comfortable distance between you both. "You weren't home and I thought … that was it,"

That was a fatal flaw you and him shared, wasn't it?

"I went to the pub to look for you too," your voice came out in a hushed whisper, breathing becoming ragged. "And you weren't there, so I thought … I thought it was the end too,"

"Fuck's sake, I know I said this many times but I'm sorry, Y/N," he sounded desperate, apologetic and almost exasperated. "I'm sorry for assuming things and ignoring you, I guess I never really got rid of the avoiding thing. I'm just … scared of you leaving me and I can't accept it again,"

"I'm not leaving, Hoonie," you were the first to reach out, to touch him and pull him into your embrace. "I didn't think you'd see that email so I never said anything about it. But I'm not leaving, okay? Not this time, never again. I'm here and I'm staying,"

You heard Sunghoon's quiet breathing next to your ear, his calming heartbeat thrumming against your shoulder. "I'm sorry, I really am, Y/N. I said I wanted to make this right but why does it feel like I'm fucking it all up?"

"You're not, Hoon, trust me. If I have to be honest here, both of us have past scars that aren't healed yet. It takes time, one step at a time, and that was what I learned. I think we're not fully healed from the past," you held onto him tighter, spilling all your hidden truths. "We can make it right, but first, we have to forgive ourselves, forgive each other and move on,"

Sunghoon pulled away a little, but his arms still remained around you. It was the first time you were ever so close to him since the split, wholly vulnerable and showing him your truest emotions. 

"I forgive you," he whispered, pearly tears threatening to spill from the edge of his eyes. "And I'm sorry again,"

"I forgive you too," your grip on his jacket tightened, a small comforting smile appearing on your lips, one that Sunghoon reciprocated. 

"I don't think I'll ever stop loving you," he confessed, a little out of the blue, but it was something he needed to get out of his system before he burst. "Those years when you were away, I see you in everyone else, I don't think anyone could ever compare. I still love you even after this long,"

Your mind was in a haze upon hearing his confession, sincerity and longing hidden in his words but evident in his eyed. For a moment, you thought of what you could say, but nothing came to mind, so you did the first thing your body told you to. You kissed him. Actually, it was more of a peck, a simple quick peck that was enough to shock both him and you.

"I'm sorry!" You saw his wide eyes and wondered if it was a good time to have even done that.

Sunghoon melted into an expression of adoration, a wide smile etched on his lips, as if in both disbelief and relief that you kissed him. "Don't be sorry," he stepped closer, only an inch measured the distance between you and him. The space became smaller when he leaned down, eyes flickering down to your lips. "Can I?"

Was this happening? "Yeah," 

Sunghoon didn't waste any moment in meeting your lips with his. It was natural, easy, for you to kiss him just like first instinct. The amount of desperation, sadness, anger and love were poured into the way he kissed you. There wasn't any urgency, but it spoke louder than intended.

It was short, but it was enough to let the both you know the true feelings you harboured for each other. By the time you pulled away from him, you felt his eyes on you, a giggle erupted from you unexpectedly, and he started joining in.

You really looked like a lovesick fool standing under the streetlamp with your lover. 

"Do you want to stop by that old spot we used to go to?" Sunghoon suggested, a little shyly this time.

"The one nearby?"

"That one,"

"Let's go then." you nodded, casting him a soft smile. 

Sunghoon didn't say much, but his hand did the talking by reaching for yours. He held onto it tightly, intertwining his fingers with yours and swinging your interlocked hands as you walked. He might've not said much, but you could tell how he felt.

Feelings might be complicated, and  making amends with the history behind a broken relationship was equally challenging, but what mattered most was getting back with the one who you called your soulmate, your lover, your best friend.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun @ilovegyuvin @hyunniesvlog @eleanorheartschishiya @nanabbg @letwiiparkjay @teddywonss @classicroyalty @run2x @yannnnaj @jakesfurry @gyuwooboozle @nylajp24 @usedto-me @vernonburger

[caelisblade]

– FORGET ABOUT US | SYLUS

sylus is the god of death, the underworld, hell. as if that wasn‘t enough, he appears to be your husband whom you have forgotten. and as it turns out, there‘s even more to the story — and about you. 

wc; 5.3k

cw; a persephone and hades retelling (kind of), reader is not mc, n/sfw, unprotected s/ex, c/reampie, o/verstimulation, r/iding, a little bit greek mythology inspired, angsty ending

a/n: part of this story was inspired by a fic i read a long time ago. unfortunately, i don‘t remember who it was by, otherwise i‘d obviously give credits. 

something was wrong. 

you felt in your whole body, it felt like someone was watching you but looking around, you simply were unable to spot anybody. it was weird. 

this feeling didn’t leave for days on end. yet, the feeling of being watched, somehow, felt so familiar, too. oddly enough, you didn’t feel like you were in imminent danger. in fact, you felt safer – even slept better at night. 

“hello, sweetheart”, the lurker finally revealed himself. 

you shrieked in shock as someone suddenly stood before you, a gorgeous, strange man. 

“goodness, you scared me. do you normally approach women like this?”, you said, a breathy chuckle leaving you. 

“just the prettiest one. and you are the most gorgeous woman i have met in my entire life”, he replied, a gentle smile dancing around his lips. 

“uh huh… that’s interesting”, you laughed. “now, tell me, how did you even get into my home? isn’t that… creepy?”

“maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. i couldn’t care less. i’ve come to bring you home.”

“what do you mean? i am home”, you laughed, yet the confusion was incredibly evident in your face. 

“this place? no, y/n. this isn’t your home. well, it is for six months of the year but your real home… is someplace else. and i want you back there with me”, he explained, yet so much wasn’t cleared up still. who was he? how did he know your name? he seemed so comfortable just barging in here like… he was someone you had forgotten. 

“with you? you’re a total stranger to me. why would i go anywhere with you?” 

“because you know me. i’m sylus. you always knew me and you always will. yet, there is a bit of a hindrance between us – you always forget me until it’s time for me to bring you back. i promise, sweetheart. you know me. and i know you. better than anyone else in this world and every other world that exists”, he explained. “i swear, it all will make so much more sense once you come home with me.” 

it was weird, but… you felt like he was telling the truth. it was this feeling etched deeply within you, the trust you felt for this man was enchanting and before you even realized it, you were slowly stepping to him. 

“i don’t know why, but… i believe you. i don’t understand, but i do”, you softly said. 

“because deep down here”, he started, slowly closing the distance between you two and pointing at your heart, “you know i’m telling the truth.” 

a loud rumble echoed through your apartment, you looked around in panic as you felt yourself literally being sucked into the ground. “w-what’s going on?!”, you exclaimed, fear enveloping your body. 

“we’re going home, sweetheart”, he said with a chuckle and within the next second, just another blink of your eyes, you were someplace else. 

confused, you looked around, taking in your surroundings and noticing the gorgeous garden. flowers were one of your most favorite things in the world and you quickly went to the garden, taking a breather of the fresh flowers. 

“they’re not real, unfortunately. not a single living thing can survive down here”, sylus explained with a sad tone in his voice. 

“what do you mean with down here?”, you questioned. despite him saying that the flowers were not real, they sure as hell smelled real. 

“hell. hades. whatever you’d like to call it”, he said, shrugging. 

“you brought me to… hell?!”, you asked. “that’s what you called my true home? why would i…?” 

nothing made sense. you felt like, nothing would ever make sense to you right now, no matter how clear and understandable the explanation was. 

“i promise, i will explain everything to you”, sylus said once again. “come with me, sweetheart.” 

he raised his hand, holding it out with an inviting smile. and you took it, curious. 

sylus slowly took you around the area. “this is hell?”, you questioned, confused at how it looked all… normal. although the furniture was mostly in black and red, the area was still… giving a certain happy, exciting energy. it definitely didn’t feel like the burning, scary place you were always told the stories about. 

“well, it’s a part of it. hell is… not as bad as everyone pictures it. most souls finding their ways here are surprised as well – the burning in hell jab was never a thing. i don’t even know where that came from. yes, hell is a place in which you get punished for your wrongdoings. but… in a way, you punish yourself for those. you know that saying ‘your own personal hell’? that’s exactly how it is for the souls that come here. they relive sins over and over again, with the difference that they experience what they made others experience.” 

“that makes sense”, you concluded. 

“and being the god of death and the guardian of hell… of course, i’m going to live a lavish life, am i not?”, he laughed softly. “i can literally just snap with my finger…” a little snap with his fingers, and suddenly, a candle-lit table filled with your most favorite meals and dishes appeared in front of you. “and i will have it. this is my world, after all. well, i took over control of it once my brothers and i banished our parents, the titans, to tartarus.” 

“i’m so sorry to say this, but… this just feels so surreal. deep down, i know you’re telling the truth, yet some part of me is refusing to believe this is real”, you said. 

“as always, sweetheart. you’ll need some time to remember. but that’s okay, i promise”, he comforted you and gently nudged you to take a seat at the couch next to the candlelit dinner table. “take all the time you need, dearest.” 

he snapped with his fingers once again and a little plate with different fruits appeared on his hand. “here, eat a little. you must be starving”, he mumbled, taking a few pomegranate seeds and feeding them to you. 

“how did you know i like pomegranates?”, you asked. 

“i just do. like i said. i know everything about you. and you know everything about me. just give it another two days, maybe three. that’s usually how long i need to feed you pomegranates until you remember. it’s not my first rodeo of this, sweetheart. you’ll understand soon, i promise.” 

you nodded, still confused about everything before you just ate the seeds of the delicious pomegranate with excitement. and sylus watched you munch on the seeds so carelessly, so happily. he was so in love with you, his heart jumped as you licked over his fingertip to taste the delicious juice. 

“you’re so pretty”, he mumbled. “and so, so adorable. let’s see if i can make you remember me faster this time.” 

before you could ask why he kept on repeating that, you suddenly felt his hand on your chin, turning you around before he kissed you. your eyes widened in shock, but you felt yourself melt into it quite fast, eyes slowly fluttering shut and you started to kiss him back. he slowly buried his hand into your hair, his kiss intensifying with every moment. 

an image of this exact thing happening flashed before your eyes for a split second, before it vanished again. 

he broke off the kiss, breathless from how desperate, longing the kiss was. “i missed this in the past six months”, he mumbled softly. “i missed the way you feel against me, the way you taste. i’m going to make you remember everything. just keep on munching those pomegranate seeds, yeah? they always helped you remember.” 

“pomegranate seeds helped me remember? that’s… odd”, you commented, but didn’t complain because you loved them anyway. you grabbed the table with the fresh seeds and kept on eating them, happy about the sweet and sour taste of them. “they’re delicious.” 

“of course they are. i got them for you”, he laughed softly. “you get the best of everything. you deserve it all.” 

the first day spent in hell with sylus passes with you munching all the delicious food he snapped into reality for you and then slowly falling asleep in his arms. 

sylus stayed awake for the entire night. he watched you sleep so comfortably, a soft smile on your lips as you dreamt of various things. he couldn’t know what those things were, but they were beautiful dreams that he knew. that smile on your lips was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. 

slowly, with the comfort of having you in his arms once again, he fell asleep, for the first time in six months, so relaxed and happy. and he actually slept an entire night without being plagued by the memories he had with you before the curse happened. 

you woke up with a sigh, eyes finally opening and you stared right into sylus’ sleeping face. you couldn’t help but look at him, he looked so peaceful, and he was probably the most gorgeous man you had ever met in your entire life. 

“good morning”, sylus grumbled, eyes still closed, yet he was awake. “did you sleep well?” 

“mhm, surprisingly, considering i just spent the night in hell”, you joked, earning yourself a tickle attack from him. 

despite him being a stranger, you had no problem sleeping in the same bed as him. 

though, something has changed now. you were sure you remembered splits and bits of what he was talking — or more like, hinting — about. 

“i remember a few things, i think”, you mumbled. “it’s weird. i remember you and i kissing, every chance we got. i remember you and i sleeping in this bed like tonight. but i can’t remember what our relationship was. were we boyfriend and girlfriend? were we… married?”

“we were — or more like, still are — actually married”, sylus revealed. “we had the most lavish wedding known among every god in our history. you looked so gorgeous in your dress. i remember the night of our wedding day in its greatest detail, too.” a little smirk danced on his lips at that memory. 

“it was probably one of the longest nights we spent entangled in bed together. something i plan to reenact once you remember me”, he laughed softly, and that laugh intensified when he saw how shy you got when you heard that. “and then… followed the war. and the curse.” 

his tone got more serious once he got to that part of the story. 

“the titans – our parents – challenged us olympians. and we did our best to overthrow them, and finally did it. but before it was finally time and we had banished them to tartarus, my father put a curse on us. we are never able to be together as we wished to be. you disappear back to earth like clockwork around april. i will come and bring you back to me in winter. your mother gave me her blessing for it. i get to spend those six months with my wife. though, i have to make you remember every time anew. i have to make you fall back in love with me again. now, i finally figured out how to make you remember the easiest – pomegranate seeds do the trick best. i don’t know why and i can’t explain why, either. it just works.” 

you listen to him intently. he had such a calming storytelling voice. you loved listening to him. 

“i mean, after centuries of doing this, i should know how to make my wife fall in love with me every six months, don’t i?”, he chuckled, but there was no sort of emotion in his laugh. 

“is there no way of getting rid of this curse?”, you asked. he shook his head. 

“not that we know of. nothing we tried ever worked”, he replied. 

“i’m sorry”, you said, choking up on your sobs. “i’m sorry i have to make you feel this lonely for six months every time.” 

“shh, princess, it’s okay. i’m okay. and as long as you are okay, i will be okay.” 

you hugged him immediately, trying to bury your tears. it was clear he loved you and you could feel it by the way he embraced you as well. 

“i still don’t remember everything. but i’m willing to try, sylus. i swear. i want to remember everything. i want to remember you and me”, you whispered against his neck. 

“and you will. i will do anything in my power to help you remember me. and everything about us. like every year. and then we will spend the most amazing six months of our lives once again. you will forget about them but i will lock them in my memories like every year. and then we’ll meet again in six months. i will be yours forever. no matter how much it breaks my heart to know i have to make you fall in love with me again like clockwork.” 

he reached to the nightstand and grabbed a box. as he opened it, he revealed a ring. “this was our wedding ring, sweetheart. i keep it with me. can i put it back on your finger?”

you nodded, your eyes still shimmering from the tears you tried your best to contain as you held out your hand. he carefully slipped the ring onto your ring finger, smiling at you. 

“i love you. you don’t have to say it back. do it when you’re ready, pretty”, he whispered and kissed your forehead gently. 

you nodded only as you inspected the ring, the diamond etched into it shining brightly in the light of the room. “it’s beautiful. thank you, sy.” 

as you called him by your usual nickname, there was yet another memory unlocked. you saying this exact nickname before, sitting in this exact bed before. “i- i remember this exact thing. we did this before, didn’t we?”, you asked. “you give this ring back to me every year. how do you have the patience to wait for me every year, sy?”

“i don’t know. i just do. the thought of being reunited with you at some point gives me the energy to wait and be patient.”

“that must be so painful every time i just… disappear, right?”, you said, hugging him a little tighter. 

“it doesn’t matter. what matters is that you are with me again, sweetheart”, he replied. “i love you. i will love you forever with my immortal life. i don’t care that you will leave me every six months, even if it’s involuntary. i will get you back when i can and have you fall back in love with me every single time.” 

“you must be the most patient man on earth… well- in hell”, you joked, giggling. “this is so weird. i never pictured hell to look this… beautiful.”

“because this isn‘t the part of hell that‘s the horrible one. this is our home. that we built together. i never changed a thing about the furniture you chose.”

“me? choosing black and dark red furniture? i must‘ve been out of my mind”, you grumble. “are you sure?”

he laughed, his laugh so deep and the way you looked at him was the most adorable thing he saw in his life. as you looked at him questioning his sudden burst of laughter, he slowly stopped laughing and started explaining.

“it‘s funny because… you react like this every single year. and once you remember, you also remember why you chose these specific colors.”

“well, then let’s see what my reasons were for these abominations of color schemes”, you giggled and finally stood up from bed, stretching your body to get rid of the last bits of sleep still lingering in your body. 

“i‘m hungry. can you snap your fingers and make me breakfast?”, you yawned, turning back to face him. 

“why don‘t you try it yourself?”

“h-huh? myself?”, you ask, the previous confusion making its way back onto your face. “how am i supposed to-?” 

“just try. you are a goddess, sweetheart. you don‘t remember anything, but i do. i remember it all. just try”, he encouraged you, standing up to go behind you and he took your hand into his, entangling your fingers with his. “just think of the most lavish breakfast table a person could ever prepare. and focus only on that.”

you closed your eyes, picturing a table with your most favorite items to eat for breakfast and within the next second, that exact table appeared in front of you. 

“i did this?”, you asked, looking around and finally looking up to face him. “you‘re not playing around with me, are you?”

“no, of course i‘m not, sweetheart. go on, try making something appear without telling me what it is. go ahead”, he said, letting go of your hand. 

you closed your eyes as you tried to think of a bouquet of white roses and winced as you felt a stinging pain in your hand. you opened your eyes again to see that exact binding of white roses in your hand and dropped it as the thorns stabbed into your fingers. you watched a little bit of blood trail down your skin before it vanished just a second later. 

you looked at sylus who smiled at you proudly. “see? sweetheart, you are the queen of the underworld. you are my queen. you are the goddess of the dead, the underworld and nature. of course, you can do everything i can do, too.”

with that revelation of your true identity, it was like, everything that was locked in the smallest corner of your brain suddenly unlocked. you remembered everything. you remembered him kidnapping you many centuries ago. you remember eating six pomegranate seeds which is the reason you have to stay six months of the year in the underworld. 

you remember the first time you realized you genuinely loved him. 

and you remember the gruesome war. you remember the curse sylus’ father had put on you before he was banished to tartarus. 

“i remember”, you whisper. “i remember it all.” 

“what?”, sylus blurted out, as if in disbelief. 

“i remember everything. i remember the first time you brought me here. i remember how i fell in love with you. i remember how we got married before your father put the curse on me”, you said, eyes tearing up. 

he quickly grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers. “i think this is the fastest i was able to make you remember”, he laughed, the brightest smile on his face. before you could do or say anything, he kissed you. it was the most intense, passionate and breathtaking kiss you ever shared before. 

your arms wrapped around his neck as he held you tight, and when he broke off the kiss, he didn’t go far away, his forehead pressed against yours. his red eyes bore into yours as you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks as he wiped them all off gently. 

“shh, don‘t cry, princess. there‘s nothing to cry about”, he whispered gently, planting a soft kiss on both of your cheeks, tasting the dried up tears on your soft skin. 

“sylus, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you”, you repeated like a mantra, kissing him over and over again. “i love you. i’m so sorry for making you go through all of this every single year. let’s try to find a remedy, baby. i don’t ever want to see you in pain again.” 

“it’s okay. i promise. it’s okay. i will wait for you every single time”, he replied, hugging you tightly as he comforted you. “don’t cry, my love. don’t cry. let’s just spend these six months together… until it’s time again.” 

just a few more moments later, you slowly calmed down and just stood there in his arms. “i love you”, he whispered before he placed his fingers underneath your chin and lifted your head. “i can’t help but say it over and over again. i missed you so much, baby.” 

you gave no response – instead, you just kissed him, wrapping your arms around his neck once again, the kiss slowly turning from tiny, gentle pecks, into something more intense, passionate. 

“missed kissing you like this”, he whispered against your lips. “remember our wedding night?” 

your cheeks heated up and you wanted to turn your face around in embarrassment. “no, no, sweetheart, no need to get shy”, he whispered. “i want you to remember that night. because i swear to you, that is what i’m going to reenact once you give me your okay.” 

you felt something in your stomach turn, in the most positive way possible. the memories were now etched into your brain and although there were thousands of moments you spent with him. 

“sweetheart”, he grumbled, voice having an edge of desperation in it. “you drive me crazy.” 

he slowly leaned down to kiss down your neck, he was leaving soft bites over your skin and you shuddered, a feeling of sudden need surging through your body. “please”, you whined, not even knowing what you were asking for. 

“please, what, sweetheart?”, he grumbled against your neck. “you know i love to hear your words. you remember now. do it, then. tell me what you want.” 

“i want you”, you softly breathed out. “i want you to fuck me.”

“such a dirty mouth. i’ll never tire from hearing you say this, sweetheart”, he chuckled before he kissed you again, this time more desperate, slowly pushing you against the nearest wall and he lifted one of your legs to wrap it around his waist. “i’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll lose your damn mind, sweetie.” 

“i know you will”, you whispered softly with a grin. 

he was about to carry you back to bed before you stopped him. “take me up against the wall first”, you mumbled, cheeks heating up. “i don’t know why. i just want this. you can make love to me later.” 

he chuckled softly before he nodded. “as you wish, milady”, he said with a grin and pulled off your clothes with swift, quick movements. you were unable to move a single muscle, just watching him undress you and looking at you with a hungry gaze. 

he slowly let one of his hands trail down your body and you shivered. before you knew it, you felt his fingers slowly circle your clit. even with the tiniest touch, sparks shot through your body, eyes fluttering shut as the first smallest bits of pleasure coursed through your body. 

“ah- sylus”, you whined, softly. “i- i need more.” 

“you’ll get more, sweetheart. don’t you worry. i’ll take care of you.” 

he pushed a finger inside of you, making you moan softly. that sound was one of his favorite sounds on earth. “you’re so wet already. i bet you could take me without a problem, too.” 

“please, sy, fuck me”, you begged softly. “please.” 

he smirked, his red eyes watched your every move and reaction. “take my clothes off, then, sweetheart.” he pulled out his finger and licked it clean with a smirk. you quickly got to work, pulling off his shirt and the joggers he was wearing. 

“never in my life did i imagine the king of hell would wear joggers to sleep”, you laughed but he cut off that laugh rather quickly by wrapping his hand around your neck. 

“what’s so funny, sweetheart?”, he grunted with a smirk. “am i not just a person, too? can’t i wear joggers just because i’m the king of hell?” 

“of course, you can. i’m just joking around.” 

sylus was a rough man, especially in bed. after all, that was a requirement for being the king of hell, the person who rules over the people who passed and punish themselves for their sins, for their crimes. 

and he showed that roughness through his actions. because the moment he lifted your leg and wrapped your naked body around his body, slowly pushing in his cock inside of you, he was whipped yet again. he loved being buried in you, fucking you until you were a breathless, overstimulated, yet so beautiful mess. 

sylus increased his pace, bouncing you on his cock and making you cry out in pleasure. your body shook, tears slowly forming in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks as you felt your body convulse, a tight knot forming in your tummy. 

“i’m- i’m gonna cum!”, you whined. you shrieked when you felt your back on the bed, he suddenly had you thrown onto the bed. 

“can’t fuck you properly without laying you down on our bed”, he grunted, “need your legs around me, need you as close as possible to me.” 

he fucked you with passion, watching your face contort as the knot in your tummy snapped and you climaxed, back arching into him. you were feeling so great, too, the pleasure making your body tingle and you smiled in your post-orgasmic haze. 

“feels good, sweetie?”, he asked, brushing a strand out of your face. “you sure look like it feels absolutely amazing.” 

“it does. i feel so.. good”, you whispered, looking up at him with teary eyes. “i need you, sy. i need you more.” 

“and you’ll get it all, baby.” 

he was ravaging you in the best way possible – he had you buried in the many pillows on his – your shared – bed, fucking into you, your bodies both covered in sweat and dried up tears were coating your cheeks. 

“ah- sylus! slow down!”, you cried as overstimulation wrecked through your body, but everything in your body screamed that he shouldn’t stop or slow down. the way he was rutting into you like a man starved was turning you on beyond imagination. 

“no, no, no slowing down”, he grunted against your neck, delivering a particularly hard thrust into you, making you jolt up in surprise. “i’m going to fuck you and you’re going to take it all like my good girl.” 

“uh-huh”, you whimpered, nails scratching over his back and leaving all kinds of marks. they would heal in a short time, but sylus loved feeling the slight pain of your nails digging into his skin. 

your cries intensified when you felt his thumb circle over your clit, along with his relentless thrust into your weeping pussy. “come for me, baby. come for me”, he whispered into your ear, his deep voice sending a powerful shudder through your body and you ended up coming just a quick moment later, the post-orgasmic shocks going through your body. 

he held you tight, watching your face contort as your husband gently caressed your skin as he waited for you to calm down. “shh, princess, i’m here. i love you.” 

“i still can’t believe you do this every single year”, you whispered once you calmed down, placing your hand on his cheek. “i hate to break your heart like this.” 

“it’s out of your control, sweetheart. it’s okay. let’s not focus on that, right now. i just want to be buried in your sweet cunt and feel you as close as possible.” 

you laughed softly. “you’re impossible.” 

“you love it”, he smirked before he moved once again, watching your face contorted in pleasure and overstimulation. “you love me anyway.” 

“that i do. that i really do.” 

before you knew it, he turned you around so you were on top of him – he wanted you to watch you on top of him. “ride me, baby. take what you deserve”, he grunted. “let me watch you.” 

“you just want me to do all the work, don’t you? so lazy”, you giggled before you started to move up and down his cock, soft whines and moans escaping your throat. his hands were latched onto your hips, guiding your movements and leaned down, laying on top of him and peppered kisses over his neck. 

“i swear, your sweet pussy is going to kill me one day”, he groaned. “i’m so close, fuck.” 

“then come in me, sy. come in me”, you cried out, overstimulation making your thighs shake but you couldn’t find it in yourself to stop. you just needed to feel this, you needed to feel as close as possible to him. because you wanted to give him all the memories you could until the day you’d be gone again for six months and forget about him once more. 

“fuck, sweetheart”, he grunted into your ear. the noises he let out were like music – and you never wanted it to stop. “you take me so well. i’m so proud of you, baby.” 

sylus knew there was no way in hell he could hold back after feeling you wrapped around him after such a long time. so when you squeezed around his cock once again, close to your own high again, you felt the spurts of his cum burst into you, filling you up in the best way possible. 

he made it to his mission to make you finish again because even though his body was screaming for a break, he had to make you cum so he just guided your hips up and down his cock until you screamed his name and creamed around his cock again, the white ring of your mixed releases so visible on the base of his cock. 

“fuck, baby. i sometimes don’t know how i manage to wait six months to feel this again”, he groaned, keeping you on top of him as he softly brushed through your hair. your body was still buzzing from the constant highs and orgasms and you just lay on his chest, trying to calm yourself down. 

his gentle strokes through your hair, over your back made you so drowsy, sleepy from exhaustion. “i love you, sy.” 

“i love you, too, sweetheart.” 

six months passed with a blink of an eye. you spent most of the time eating all the foods you could think of and just spent the time walking around hell. it was ironically romantic, despite it being literal hell. you’d hold his hand, walk around with him as he showed you the river in the elysian fields, which was the river of happiness. 

he let you taste a little drop and you just felt like you were floating on air. 

you and him spent a lot of time entangled in bed, fucking each other’s brains out, making love, kissing and making out and you just… loved it all. 

the moment you realized that your memory started to blur and you had no idea where you were anymore, you quickly took off the ring on your finger and gave it back to him for safekeeping. 

“i’m so sorry, sy. i’m going to miss you. i love you”, you whispered before you disappeared without being able to hear his ‘i love you, too’. you were unable to watch his eyes tear up in pain, his heart breaking. you were back on earth, not remembering anything that had happened in the past six months. 

“see you in six months, sweetie”, he whispered, holding the ring tight in his hand and sylus cursed out his father for the pain he made his son experience every single time. 

sylus swore that he’d find a remedy one day, but he never was able to. 

until then, he’d spend his six months a year with you in your home and wait until it was time to bring you back home. despite the pain, he was happy he was able to spend time with you at all. 

he carefully placed the ring back into its box and smiled with teary eyes, starting the countdown of days until he’d see you again.

a/n: i really hope you enjoyed this! it was my first time writing after ages so i might be a bit rusty, so sorry about that. this one is one of my most favorite writings in a long time so i really hope you love it just as much as i do!

[megamindsecretlair]

If I Took You Home, Part 2

Pairing: Dom!Kevin Atwater x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. Food porn. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female receiving) teasing, masterbation (male), fingering (female receiving), cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. D/s dynamics.

Summary: Your friends were all in relationships so that meant it was time to bug you about your singledom. Your blind date went a little too well. You expected the magic of the night to give away to clarity in the morning. You didn't know if you were breaking some kind of one night stand rules by spending the night. You try to sneak out undetected, but Kevin only proves that he knows how to wear us down.

Word Count: 7,041k

AO3 Link | Part 1

A/N: Hello, my loves. This was long, long, long overdue! I wanted to finish this yesterday. Ah well, what a sweet lullaby muahaha. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @amethyst09 @ciaqui @harmshake @00aijia00 @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @twocentuar @westside-rot @yaachtynoboat711 @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout @bigsisbria @babybratzmaraj @darqchilddaydreamz @pinkpantheris @blackerthings @awerkofart @longpause-awkwardsmile @palmstreesallday @thadelightfulone @judymfmoody @eggnox @playgurlxoxo @shesstillshyy @multiversefanfics @tvchi

Some things became clearer in the light of day. As wakefulness encroached upon the sweet lullaby of sleep, you blinked your eyes sleepily at the unfamiliar room. Panic made your heartbeat increase as you tried to remember where the fuck you were.

You shifted on the bed, a particular ache between your legs making you wince. Oh yeah. Memories flooded you of every single nasty thing you did last night and let this virtual stranger do to you. The way he commanded, demanded, and delivered. It brought heat to your cheeks as you tried to think of how you could explain your night without breaking into song and dance.

Sex that good had to warrant a little bit of razzle dazzle right? A little bit of jazz hands. A little bit ohmygodwhencanwedothatagain?!

Kevin snored gently beside you and you half turned in the bed to watch him. He looked damn good up close and in repose. He had long eyelashes that rested against his cheeks. Juicy lips that puckered in his sleep. He slept on his stomach, hugging the pillow to his chest. His massive arms curled adorably beneath him. 

In the light of the morning, or afternoon, whenever it was, your nerves came screaming back. What was the protocol here? You’d never done anything like this and you were completely out of your element. Was it awkward to stay? Was it awkward to leave? 

He asked you to stay, sure, but what if he changed his mind? You needed time and space to think. Preferably away from the sight and smell of him. It only served to confuse you. Get you thinking about forever, when this was only supposed to be something fun. 

You felt like you should leave. Maybe it was you being nervous or those manners your grandmother beat into your head. You didn’t necessarily want to leave Kevin, but you didn’t want to make him go through the whole song and dance of exchanging numbers just because you slept over. Then wait by the phone for a thousand years before you finally catch on that he asked for your number out of a sense of duty rather than any actual interest.

Been there, done that. To hell with your friends. If they felt awkward because they were booed up and you were not, that was strictly a “them” problem. You took slow, measured breaths as you extricated yourself from the tangle of Kevin’s sheets and the warmth of his body. It was like sleeping next to a damn furnace. 

You stuck one leg out of the bed and immediately snatched it back with a tiny yelp. It was freezing in his apartment! You looked back at Kevin to determine if your squeak woke him up. His cute face scrunched up but he returned to snoring. Your heart was hammering out of your chest. You felt like you were sneaking out after putting your hand in the cookie jar. 

You looked towards the ceiling and took a few more breaths to calm yourself down. You stuck your foot back out, freezing cold air raising goosebumps on your leg. 

You slid out of the bed and worried that Kevin would wake up and see your not so flexible acrobatics to get out of his huge bed. You already had to hop a little to climb out. You hopped from foot to foot as your feet touched the freezing ground. 

It was bad enough Chicago was one of the coldest places you’d ever been. The way he kept his apartment, you might as well be standing on the top of Mount Everest. Your hair was probably a mess. Your breath worse. You cupped your hand to your mouth to check. Not terrible but could be better.

You inwardly groaned as you hunted for your clothes. Last night’s game of undressing from room to room lit up in your mind’s eye. Rolling waves of heat rolled down your spine as you remembered the look in his eyes. You smirked as you found your panties finally and then your bra in the bathroom. 

You hunted through the apartment, gathering all of your things and your heels. You placed everything on the back of his couch so that you could get dressed in peace. No sooner had you stuck one leg through your undies, did a deep voice clear itself behind you.

You yelped, spinning around to see Kevin leaning into the doorway. His eyes were half mast, sleepy, and he looked adorable rubbing his eyes. He leaned on one arm, his hip dipped as he leaned against the frame. Naked as sin and twice as fucking hot with his dick soft against his thigh.

“No goodbye kiss?” He asked.

“You fucking scared me!” You screamed. Your heart was already in your damn throat from sneaking about. Getting caught by Kevin somehow felt worse. 

Kevin smirked at you. “Still waiting on that kiss,” he said. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and looked at him. You wanted to be the cool one here. The levelheaded one. No, your world was not rocked last night. No, you weren’t hearing wedding bells in your head already. 

Kevin crooked his finger, beckoning you closer. The deep, subconscious desire to be commanded immediately obeyed, walking closer to him before you knew what the hell you were doing. Kevin watched you walk closer, not moving until you were close in front of him. Naked as the day you were born. 

He used that same finger to lift your chin and look at him in the eyes. He stared for a moment, long enough to make you feel nervous. But all he did was look. “Do you want to go home? Did I scare you last night?” 

“What? N-No!” You stumbled over your words, emphatically shaking your head. Oh god. He couldn’t possibly think you were leaving because of him? You shook your head again. “No, no, I swear.” 

Kevin lifted an eyebrow. “Why are you running then?” He asked.

You scoffed. “I’m not running,” you said and rolled your eyes. You were a grown adult. You didn’t run from anything, least of all the likes of Kevin Atwater. 

Kevin playfully frowned and looked from you to the pile of clothes on his couch. When he looked back at you, you giggled and crossed your arms. “Maybe, I just wanted my dress off the floor.” 

Kevin looked at you. “Maybe I was burning up underneath all your damn body heat.” You laughed but quickly stopped when you noticed that Kevin wasn’t laughing with you. 

“I had a fantastic night last night. Did you?” He asked. 

You nodded. Fantastic wasn’t even the right word. What would be better? Amazing? Mind-blowing? Phenomenal? Hell, the word you needed hadn’t been invented yet. “Incredible,” you finally agreed. 

“So what are you really doing?” He asked. 

Claire didn’t mention that he was a damn mind reader. You looked at him and sighed. “I wanted to give you a smooth out, in case…” you shrugged. Fuck, this was hard. Why was this hard? “In case you changed your mind.” 

Kevin nodded. “I’m pretty sure I promised a few things I still wanted to do with you today. We just met yesterday, but I think we really have something here. If I’m wrong, let me know.” 

“You’re not wrong. I feel comfortable with you,” you said. Mushy ass feelings just wasn’t your jam. But you had to pull on your big girl pants and give it straight. “I get in my head sometimes. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to keep this going if all you wanted was booty last night.” 

“If all I wanted was some ass, I could get that day in and out. I want you. Do you want me?” He asked. 

No hesitation. You nodded. “Very much so.” You smiled and he smiled back. 

“Good. Is there anything you want to talk about last night? Anything you didn’t like?” He asked. He grabbed your hand with his and pulled you closer. You looked down at your entwined hands, loving the absolute pretty picture you two painted. The joining of two brown hands like branches of the same tree. 

Your eyes also clued in to the length of his dick, getting harder by the moment. You’d seen him fully erect, he wasn’t there yet. But it was damn close. “Honestly? No fucking notes at all.” You snickered as you remembered last night. God. It was like he reached into your head and read every single filthy thought that flittered across your mind. 

When was the last time you felt like that with your partner? Probably never. You never felt comfortable handing your pleasure to a man. They never fucking listened. You could be moaning, “don’t stop”, over and over and they took that as a clue to stop what they were doing. Or they began fingering you and got mad when you coached them on what you liked. The bar was truly in hell. 

Kevin smiled. “I always want your honesty. Anything you wish I did different?” He asked. His fingers slowly stroked the back of your hand, playing with your fingers. How could he make something so mundane be the hottest thing ever? 

With each glide of his thumbs on your skin, your legs tingled and your belly flipped. That inner sex demon stretched like a lazy cat inside of you. One touch. One look. You were down bad for Kevin Atwater. If he’d let you, this sexy ass man wouldn’t be able to breathe without you. 

You shook your head. “Remember when I said it was bad out here?” You asked.

Kevin nodded his head. “That was putting it mildly. I have enough horror stories to fill a library with the fucking audacity of men these days. I’m not saying you’re perfect, because I don’t want you to get a big head. But it’s truly, truly mind-boggling how no one has trapped you in a marriage or a baby. ‘Cause?” You fanned yourself for extra dramatics. 

Kevin laughed, a full throaty laugh that came from deep in his soul. You could listen to him laugh for the rest of your life and never get sick. 

“Ain’t nobody trap me ‘cause momma ain’t raise no fool,” he said. “But okay. I want to let you know that you are perfect.”

You pushed at his solid chest, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious. You bring out something in me. Something I’d like to explore more.” He licked his lips and looked at you up and down. 

He had to be doing this on purpose. Turning up his charm to a thousand and ten. You couldn’t take it. He was too fine. Too hot. Quite literally chiseled by the gods. He couldn’t be real and yet he was standing right in front of you, telling you that you were perfect. You pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

You nodded. “I’d like to explore it too.”

“So no running?” He asked.

You grinned. “I was not running!” Liar, liar. Kevin tilted his head. You rolled your eyes and fought a grin, not successfully. “No running.”

Kevin nodded his head. He seemed to change right before your eyes. Turning from easy, sleepy, and relaxed right back to the man who was in charge last night. He stood up straighter. No longer leaning against the door frame, he reminded you with a simple action that he was tall. And big. A man. 

Your breathing caught in your throat as your heart began beating faster. Your fingers tingled. He inspected you from head to foot, took in your stance, took in your nakedness. You should be nervous about him seeing you, but you were being truthful earlier. You really did feel comfortable with him. Like you’d known him far longer than just one day. 

He clasped his hands behind his back and raised his chin, looking down at you. His eyes looked half closed from this position and you knew to interpret this as a warning. “I’m glad you said that. Because now, we have to talk about how you denied me the pleasure of waking you up with my tongue,” he said. 

You rubbed your thighs together and swallowed painfully. Your mouth dropped open in a surprised smirk, tongue rubbing against one of your teeth. Damn. What the hell did you say to something like that? 

You thought you had been playing in the big leagues with your level of nasty. Kevin showed you in so many subtle ways that you were playing with weak ass men before. Men who thought they owned something if money was involved. Whether it’s gifts, dinner, or quality time. Kevin just naturally oozed a lot of that masculinity that made you so attracted to men in the first place. 

“I went to bed dreaming about what you’d taste like fresh in the morning. Of how you’d look when you woke up to an orgasm. That little bit of surprise,” Kevin said. He closed his eyes briefly and bit his bottom lip as if he were recalling the dream at the moment.

He stalked closer to you. Instinctively, you began to back away. He looked like a man on a mission. A deviousness played in his warm brown eyes as he looked at your body like he wanted to gnaw on you like a dog with a bone. 

He took a deep, deep breath and let it go in one long sigh. “The things I was finna do to you in that bed.” He shook his head like he mourned the lost moment. 

“I’m sorry! We can go lay back down?” You asked. You continued to back away from his advancing form. Both scared and horny, you mentally kicked yourself. If you weren’t careful, you could get sucked into the vortex of Kevin Atwater. You weren’t entirely sure that was a bad thing. 

Kevin shook his head. “Naw, don’t work like that. Bad girls get punished,” he said. A downright wicked gleam entered his eyes with that comment. He reached out and grabbed your wrist, tugging you towards the couch. He sat down with you in front of him, in between his legs. 

Out of the protection of his body, the cold air hit you once more in full force. It battled with the natural heat of your body, leaving you in a push and pull of dueling temperatures. Your nipples beaded from desire and from the cold air, practically poking out in invitation. 

“I wasn’t bad,” you pouted. Sure punishment sounded fun, but you wanted what he promised last night. 

“I was gonna run you a bath, get you all nice and soapy and wet and…” He let the thought drift away as he tugged you to kneel before him. The soft rug by his couch was padded enough that you didn’t think you’d get rug burn, depending on what he had planned. 

“And what?” You asked. Your pussy clenched. Fuck, that sounded amazing. Getting all soaped up with Kevin, washing each other down, playing in the water. You got a full tour of his apartment and knew that his shower was big enough for his ass. It would fit the both of you comfortably. You needed it. 

Kevin smirked and grabbed his dick, stroking himself as he looked at you. You leaned forward, licking your lips. He was fully erect now. Thick and veiny, long. You licked your lips again, wondering what he tasted like.

“Hands behind your back,” he said. His voice grew rougher as he tugged on his meat and adjusting himself on the couch. 

You obeyed, putting your hands behind your back and grabbing your forearms. Your eyes never left his dick. His big hand gripped himself way harder than what you were ever comfortable with. Precum leaked from his tip. He gathered some of it on his thumb and swirled it around his tip. 

You moaned softly, watching him, mesmerized. Your grip on your forearms slackened as you leaned in a little more, scooting in between his legs. 

“Stay right there. I got a feeling that you’d like if I spanked you. And I’m not rewarding your rabbit ass with too many orgasms,” he groaned. He sank into his couch, groaning, as he pleasured himself. 

Your eyes followed the glide of his hand. He still wore the bracelets around his wrist. The strings moved with the force of his hand. It was a hell of a way to hypnotize you. He could ask for the Krabby Patty secret formula and you’d find a way to fess up to it. 

“I’ll be good,” you said, still staring at the way he stroked himself. You’d never been more jealous of a fucking hand. 

Your essence dripped out of you, slow like honey. You were unbearably wet. You moved your hand, more than capable of taking care of yourself. Kevin growled. “Don’t move.” 

You stopped and whined, adjusting your arms back behind you. Kevin groaned and leaned his head back against the couch cushion. After a moment or two, he collected himself and looked back at you. “If you be good and take this punishment, I’ll make it worth it,” he promised.

“I don’t even know what the punishment is,” you whined. Fuck being an adult. You wanted to take a ride on his dick and he was fucking playing games. 

“I’m gonna paint that gorgeous face of yours,” he said. “You don’t behave, you don’t get this dick. Fair?” He asked.

“No,” you pouted, poking your lips out and everything. Maybe if you were cute enough, he’d lose his composure and fuck you silly. 

Kevin only moaned, hand moving a little faster from all the precum leaking out of him. “Keep whining, it turns me on,” he said and winked. 

You fought the smile. This was not amusing. This was torture. This was cruel and unusual punishment. This had to be illegal. 

You were incredibly horny, sitting somewhere between too cold and too warm. Your body was confused. But your mind was far from it. You watched him like he was the single greatest porn scene you’d ever watched. 

Kevin groaned. “I love the way you lookin’ at me,” he said. His voice was rougher, like he’d been running for a long time. He was out of breath, stroking himself nice and smooth. He had a patch of dark hair at the base of his dick. His dick smooth like velvet, hard as a brick. 

“I could do a lot better than just look,” you said. You hadn’t had a chance to show off your own moves. Too busy with getting caught up in the way Kevin took care of business. You leaned up on your knees, getting excited at the prospect of giving him the gawk gawk 3000. That had him rolling his eyes and singing your praises. The kind of slobbering that had you caught up a few times, with men who swore they were in love with you. 

Kevin chuckled. “I bet you could. You look like you wanna eat me,” he said. His hips jerked as he said it, practically fucking his hand at this point. He let out a low string of curses as he closed his eyes briefly. 

“You have no idea how badly I want your dick in my mouth,” you said.

“Yeah? Tell me how badly,” he said. 

“I wanna taste you. I want to see how far back in my throat you can go,” you said, unashamed of your words. You were mad tripping earlier. That same connection you felt last night only seemed to strengthen in this moment. 

Kevin groaned, bucking his hips against his hand like he truly was fucking. You could picture bouncing on his dick in time with his hips moving. Was it possible to cum from no stimulation at all? You felt like you could cum at this very moment. This may be punishment, but fuck if it wasn’t beautiful to watch. 

Kevin’s jaw began to slacken, eyes tightly closed. He was close. He groaned, the sound slithering down your spine. Your pussy throbbed. Clit swollen and weeping, crying out to be played with. To be touched. To relieve this fucking tension in your bones. 

“Can’t wait to feel that mouth on this dick. Wanna see you struggle to take me. Looking up at me with those sexy eyes. Fuck. Would you cry?” He asked. He seemed more like he was talking to himself. He worked himself up with that particular fantasy. He scooted forward on the couch, stroking his dick once and then twice before moaning as he squirted his hot cum all over your face.

It landed more so on your nose and cheek, dribbling onto your lips. “Lick that shit up,” Kevin said, voice deep and raspy. Deep enough to make you whimper. You licked your lips, licking up his cum and swallowing him down.

You moaned, finally getting to taste him. “Oh, my, god,” Kevin said, panting from the force of his climax. He collapsed onto his couch, breathing heavily. A beat passed and then two, before he turned back to you with a wink. 

He leaned forward, tugging you closer so that he could kiss you. You melted against him. He leaned back. “You did so fucking well for me,” he said. 

You whimpered. He helped you rise to your feet. Then brought you to the bathroom, where he rinsed off a washcloth and gently cleaned your face. He was not making it easy on you. In a minute, you were going to drop to your knees and propose to the man. He took such gentle care with you, cleaning your face softly. You watched his face. The absolute concentration. The little bit of tongue poking out between his lips. 

Done, he tugged your arms behind his back and kissed the absolute daylights out of you. Scorching. Hot. Enough to completely daze you as he brought the kiss to an end, lips still pressed together. He slowly withdrew, opening his eyes and looking up at you even though he was taller. 

“How about you run a bath while I get some breakfast going for us? You good with an omelet?” 

You nodded. “That sounds delicious,” you said. Your stomach rumbled, loudly, in the quiet bathroom. It was tastefully decorated in steel blue with complimentary towels. The rug underneath your feet was shaggy and comfortable, toes sinking into the fabric. You swayed a bit, suddenly so damn hungry you couldn’t think straight. 

Kevin kissed your cheek. “Forgive me, I’ve been a bad host,” he said. 

You smiled lazily at him. “You’ve been so amazing, I’m starting to think I’m having a really good dream or I’m in a really bad coma,” you said. 

Kevin chuckled. “Naw, baby. I’m real,” he said. He grabbed your chin and brought you closer for a sweet kiss, a light smacking of your lips on his. “I’ll come get you when the food is ready. There’s no rush.” 

Kevin left you with one final kiss, like he couldn’t help himself. Then, he grabbed a towel, wash cloth, and hand towel from a cabinet in the wall. You asked about grabbing your panties first, but Kevin shook his head.

“No underwear policy in this space,” he said. 

“Now sir,” you said and giggled. 

“You see me wearing one?” He asked. 

You looked down at his dick and licked your lips. Kevin grunted. “Don’t get hurt now.”

You giggled and shook your head. “I can’t walk around the apartment naked as hell. What about your windows?” You asked. 

Kevin made a face but then sighed. “Fine.” He walked out of the room without another word. You watched him cross the hall to his bedroom, opening his drawer, and pulling out a dark gray T-shirt. He returned to the bathroom and handed it to you. “No panties.” 

You accepted the shirt and smiled. “Thank you,” you said. “I’ll behave. That punishment was bullshit,” you said. You turned towards his tub, reaching over to turn on the water and plug it up. Kevin smacked your ass, hard, the slap echoing off of the tile. 

“Worked, didn’t it?” He asked. He waggled his eyebrows and then left you alone in his bathroom. You pinched yourself. You quietly squealed, running in place. You had to get the jitters out of your skin. 

No amount of pinching or screaming would convince you that this was real. That you were in this space, surrounded by this man that was a book boyfriend come to life. He said all the right things and did all the right things. Even when he was mean, he was still sweet and sexy. This connection between you was insane. Indescribable. How the hell would you even begin to try?

His tub was easy enough to work, the warm water filling up quickly. You raided his soap, looking for the one he used most often. He had a teakwood body wash that was almost gone so you helped yourself to it, wanting to smell like him. If this were a dream, then oh thee fuck well. You were never going to wake up from this. Never. 

You washed yourself up, sinking into the warm water and living through flashbacks of last night and a few moments ago. The water felt so good on your skin, easing up any aches and pains accrued over the night and from kneeling for so long. You were good and pruney, practically falling asleep, by the time Kevin knocked on the door.

“Okay to come in?” He asked. 

You sat up in the tub. “Yep!” You called out.

Kevin entered and leaned on the doorknob. He hummed in appreciation. “Giving me all kinds of ideas about that tub,” he said. 

“I aim to please,” you said and giggled. 

“Later, beautiful. Food’s up. If you need help drying off, just let me know,” he said. 

You laughed. “If you help me dry off, that food will get cold,” you said.

Kevin sighed but nodded with a small smile. “You right. Come on, gorgeous,” he said. 

The casual way that he dropped all of these terms of endearment only further solidified that you’d never find someone like Kevin. Out of the billions of people on the planet, you couldn’t find someone like him. Even if you were to clone him, Kevin was unique. Different. The total and complete package.

You’d have to find a way to abscond with Claire and marry her. Give her your first born. Something. How the hell had she been hiding all of this?! 

Kevin knocked on the door and then partially closed it, giving you enough privacy to get out of the tub and drain it. You dried off, smelling his sweet scent all over your skin. You hummed as you pulled on his shirt, amazed that it fit over your curves and rolls. Huh. How about that.

You’d never been able to experience the small pleasure of putting on your boyfriend’s clothes. It was always a smidge too small. And whoever you were with tried to make you feel better. As if it were their fault that their clothes weren’t bigger for you. It didn’t crush you, not really, but secretly you always wanted to. You liked the inherent pleasure in it. Like you were staking your claim with one piece of clothing. 

Kevin was big enough that the arms of his shirt hung loose. The shirt came down to the middle of your thighs, looking like a dress that was almost too short. Too indecent if you were to wear something like this in public with no shorts or leggings underneath. If you bent over, he’d get a good view of your pussy. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, the smirk that never left your lips. Your hair was a little wild, but that was okay. You smoothed it down. You looked like you’d been fucked. And fucked good. You grinned to yourself and finally left the bathroom.

The kitchen smelled amazing. It was still warm from what he cooked. He sat on the couch with a plate in his hand. He had an area to sit in the kitchen, but he patted the couch next to him. Your thighs tingled remembering what he did earlier. 

Your dress was draped across the accompanying recliner, laid out to smooth out the wrinkles that appeared because it had been bunched up all night. Your heels were on the floor and your purse was underneath the dress. 

Strangely, you felt no immediate need to grab your phone. Fuck the world. You were having fun in your little bubble. Kevin handed you a plate as you sat down. It looked good enough to be in a food magazine. Oh and the taste.

You moaned, fork scraping against the plate as you dug for another piece and another one. The egg was fluffy, flavorful, filled with little pieces of ham, cheese, and tomato. You looked at Kevin, licking your fork clean. When you released it, you smacked your lips. 

“Okay, this is really unfair. You look like that and cook like this? Fuck,” you said and shook your head.

Kevin laughed. “Couldn’t let my siblings grow up on mediocre ass food. I can throw down a little,” he said, being modest and ducking his head as he dug into a bigger version of your omelet. 

As you ate, you swapped family horror stories, both cracking up and nearly choking on food. Kevin ended up turning up the heater for your sake. You spent the late afternoon watching movies and pigging out on the couch. You found movies that you’d both seen so it wasn’t a big deal if you missed some of the movie by talking. 

And oh, did you talk about everything under the sun. Conversation flowed freely. The laughs were quick and loud. Sunlight filtered through his blinds, flecks of dust swirling in the beam. Your foot swung back and forth off of the couch before Kevin grabbed your foot and started to massage the heel. 

You moaned, resting your head against the back of the couch. You smiled at him, eyes drifting close as he found a particular ache in the arch. A soft sigh escaped you as you moaned with pleasure. His hands were perfect. Absolutely perfect. Immediately zeroing in on your most sensitive spots.

“Oh, that is so unfair,” you moaned. 

“What is?” Kevin looked from the TV to your face. You studied his half side profile. The line of his jaw. The peek of his lips surrounded by a neat, full beard. The way his hair twisted. The kind glow of his eyes. You were simply obsessed. 

“You’ve been doing nothing but making me feel good for the past day and some change,” you said. 

“I’d like to do it for longer than that,” he said. He gave you a rare, shy smile. “Too soon?” 

You shook your head. You moaned around him digging his thumb in. You brought your arm up to rest against your cheek. “It doesn’t scare me.”

“Good. I don’t ever want to scare you,” he said. 

You spent a few moments staring into each other’s eyes. His eyes reminded you of sitting outside a log cabin, crackling fire in front of you, bundled in sweaters and scarves. He was so warm. From the inside out. It made you feel lucky to be in his orbit. 

“You can’t ever scare me, I think. Is that weird?” You asked. 

“Naw, that’s not weird. But you can always tell me if I do,” he said. 

Kevin moved his hand, rubbing the top of your foot. His fingers brushed your toes and you yanked your foot back with a squeak. You could barely tolerate someone touching your feet. But touching your toes was out of the question.

Kevin gave you a funny look, reaching for your toes intentionally. You yanked your foot back, tucking it underneath you. You fought a laugh, fought the unbearable awkward sensation.

“You ticklish?” He asked. 

“No,” you said and shook your head.

Kevin’s face dropped in realization as he began to find other places you were ticklish. You squealed with laughter. There was something terrible and wonderful about being tickled. Your body didn’t like it but your brain recognized it as pleasurable. It was a weird headspace to be and you fought with all of your might against Kevin. 

He stopped once you were hysterically screaming for him to stop, laughing so hard that you were out of breath. Kevin held up his hands, laughing with you. “My bad, my bad. I ain’t know,” he said, still chuckling at your wheezing.

You eventually calmed down, sobering up while looking at him. “You are amazing,” you said. 

“And you are perfect,” he said. He leaned forward on the couch, covering your body with his. His powerful arms were on either side of you. He did one half push up and began kissing you. His lips smacked over yours, light little hums escaping him as if he were tasting something delicious. 

Your body lit up, warming from the inside out as you felt all of him imposing on top of you. He kept most of his weight off of you, but you wished he’d drop down so you could treat him like your personal weighted blanket. 

You ran your hands over his shoulders, feeling his smooth, wondrous skin beneath your fingers. He smelled heavenly. 

Kevin moaned. “You smell just like me,” he said. He moaned against your lips, kissing down your jaw and across your neck. Liquid heat followed where his tongue licked against your skin. “This was a turn on I didn’t know I had.”

Your giggles ended on a moan as he licked across your rapid thumping vein. The space between your thighs warmed up, turning into an inferno all its own. Kevin slid his knee between your legs, spreading you open for him. He hummed, staring at you all smug and shit. The light hairs on his thighs rubbed in the most delicious way. 

Your eyes fluttered, hands reaching out to push at his chest. Kevin used his imposing frame to lean down, putting pressure against your weak hand. Your hand dropped and Kevin smirked.

He knee was joined with one of his hands, gathering up your slick and juices, coating his fingers. He brought it to his lips, sucking on his fingers while he  stared into your eyes. You stared back, watching him gather up as much as he could. 

He moved down the length of your body, kissing in places and biting in others. Your sighs were choppy and quick, not allowing you to draw in a full breath. Kevin nosed through your wet folds, rubbing his nose in your pussy and humming to himself. His fingers dug into your thick, meaty thighs.

“Gahh damn, beautiful. You fuckin’ soaked,” he moaned. He lifted his head, dragging his tongue along the slit of your pussy. You whimpered, legs dropping open further so that he had enough room. Kevin adjusted himself on the couch and then used his tongue to push between, finding your clit with a precise lick.

“Oh, shit!” You cried out. Your nails raked across his back, digging in for purchase as he licked around your overly sensitive clit. His tongue flicked, dragging back and forth and made you speak in tongues. Your hands flew to his neck, pulling, pushing him down harder against your clit.

You gyrated your hips, fucking into his mouth. He moaned around you gushing around his mouth. The orgasm snuck up on you, too swift like a sniper. You moaned and cried against Kevin’s tongue, unrelenting, sucking harder.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you cried, panicked cries echoing in the room. The TV played in the background, some random ass movie or show. You weren’t sure which. The afternoon light was gone, replaced with the warming embrace of night. 

You felt this orgasm start in the base of your spine, shooting forward, racing towards the forefront as you came undone from Kevin’s tongue. “Oh, shit. Kevin, Kevin, I’m–” Words got caught in your throat as you came and came, a rolling sort of pleasure that was nearing painful. 

You coughed and then gasped, pulling in lungfuls of air. You felt like your heart restarted or you blacked out for a moment. 

Kevin moaned, looking up at you with your essence dripping from his beard. He kissed up your body, leaving sloppy wet kisses on your belly and chest. He moved himself forward, mouth latching onto your nipple. You cried, the nipple sensitive as hell. 

Each pull of his tongue made your pussy clench. You had no moans to give and yet your moans escaped nonetheless. Your hands roamed over Kevin’s body. He grabbed your wrists and pinned it to the bed beside you, fingers squeezing and making you feel bound. 

You moaned as Kevin released your nipple and then moved on to the next. He gave that one the same care and attention, pulling and tugging, and making you move your hips, feeling empty as hell. 

You couldn’t think straight. You were too blissed out on feeling good. All you knew was his hands on your skin, his lips around your nipples, his deep rumbling moans vibrating against you. All you knew was that there was no past, no future, no present that did not include Kevin Atwater. 

Kevin moved up your body again, kissing along your chest until he licked a trail up your neck. He moaned, moving into position between your legs. You grew a little nervous. Even with all this foreplay, you weren’t sure he would fit again. Last night had to be a fluke. 

“Eyes on me,” he commanded. 

You dragged your eyes up to meet his. He smirked, kissing you and driving random thoughts from your mind. He lined himself up, dragging your legs higher on his hips. He leisurely slid inside of you, like he had all the time in the world.

He paused every so often, letting you adjust to his size and length. He sank deeper and deeper, stretching you to your absolute fullest. 

“Oh fuck, Kev, you’re so big,” you groaned. 

“Made for me,” he said. He kissed your cheek as he began to pull out and then pull back in. 

You practically growled in his ear as his tip brushed up against your cervix. He was so deep, filling up an essential part of you. You no longer felt empty. You felt so completely full that tears sprang to your eyes.

Your pussy clenched around his dick. Your loud squelching sounded painful, even to you. He groaned as you squeezed his dick, sliding out so slowly it felt like torture, before pushing back in. 

Your orgasm was vicious, wild, and crazy. Burrowing through your veins and spreading throughout your entire system. Useless drabble fell from your lips. If you were trying to say something, then you had no clue what. You doubted he was any wiser. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. Feel so fuckin’ good. You were made for this dick,” he moaned. 

“Fill me up, Kevin. Please fill me up,” you begged. 

Kevin’s strokes increased, pounding into you, ramming inside of you. Your ass slapped on his thighs. His balls slapped against your ass. Kevin gripped your ankles, pushing your legs against your chest and closer together.

He felt even bigger, sliding against your innermost walls and wrecking your shit. You pushed against his chest, tried to scratch at his hands around your ankles. “Please, baby, please, please,” you moaned. 

“Doing so good for me baby. Go ahead and let that shit go. I got you. I’m right here,” he said. He whispered against your skin, leaning against your legs that were leaning against your chest.

He made it slightly harder to breathe, fighting for every rasp and gasp. God, you were feeling incredible. Out of your skin. Like your consciousness mixed into the universe and poured into a galaxy. “I–” You couldn’t even get the sentence out before you were cumming once more, eyes rolling back into your head.

“There it is,” he moaned. “There it is. Don’t that feel better? Don’t I take care of you?” He asked.

He stroked once more before stilling, moaning, and spurting hot loads of cum inside of you. He bathed your insides, stuffing you completely with his seed. 

“Ohhhh, ohhh shit.

“Ohh shit. 

“Shit. 

“Shit,” Kevin groaned, eyes closed, jaw slackened. He pulled out, wet gurgling following behind, before he slammed in. He repeated the action a few times. You groaned.

God, no more. No more. You didn’t have another one in you. You simply didn’t. Kevin collapsed on top of you, taking deep breaths and pressing into your skin. He rolled off of you, sliding out. He looked between your legs, pulling your legs apart to watch himself leak out. He hummed in appreciation and then got to his feet and padded away to the bathroom.

He returned with a warm washcloth and gently wiped up between your legs. He closed the cloth and then used the clean side to clean up lingering sweat. Done, he got rid of the cloth and then helped you to your feet.

You were too weak, too fucked out to hold yourself up. Kevin chuckled and swooped you into his arms without a grunt. He deposited you in the bathroom so that you could clean yourself up further. Then, he picked you up and put you on his bed and tucked you under the covers.  

“Yo ass better be in this bed in the morning,” he said. He kissed you on the lips and then joined you in bed. Even though he turned up the heater, you didn’t know true warmth under his scorching chest met your frozen back. You moaned and snuggled further into his body.

“A nigga like to cuddle in the morning,” he said. He buried his face in your neck and kissed the back of your ear.

“Mhm, yes, sir,” you sleepily mumbled before passing off into dreamland.

There's more! The Secret Kevin Atwater Files | Part 1

[dolliels]

third times the charm.

azul x reader

synopsis: azul likes you. and he’s been trying to ask you out for a while.

a/n: okay guys im not dead wtf. posting this fic to prove i didn’t kms 💀💀

azul had only three goals in mind: prove his bullies wrong, become rich and die rich.

his love life was the least of his worries. he’d probably swoon over some wealthy girl and marry her for connections. done deal. nothing much to think about.

azul thought about the huge house he’ll eventually own. he even has the measurements and everything down in his head.

everything would be at the grasp of his hands. no children, absolutely not. everything would be perfectly spread out just for him. he’d die on his deathbed with a huge grin on his face, knowing he’d only get the best even after he has left the world of the living. perfect.

so sometimes, he’d find himself wondering why he would be in a dazed state, daydreaming about a modest, happy future with you.

everything was laid out. his entire future was laid out. then suddenly, you decided to waltz into his life, and all he thinks about is you. waking up, he’s wondering if you’re sleeping in. or when he’s eating, he’d be trying to guess what you’d be buying to see if he actually knows your tastes. or during work, gazing around mostro lounge, seeing if you’d decided to take a visit to his beloved café.

ugh, it infuriated him.

sometimes, it would go as far as thoughts of marriage, which completely ruined him.

see, the thing is, he hasn't even asked you out. you and azul were not at all close intimately in any way. friends? sure. but not close like that.

so why was his mind leaping so far? did he really want to have such a commitment with you? after all these years of obsessing over his future?

he wanted to live such a luxurious life of power and money. so everything he’s done to build all the way up here seems to tumble down when in his head, azul seemed to feel much happier in a modest life with you. he felt his heart warm at the thought of being beside you even in his death.

he hasn’t daydreamed this much since middle school, when he’s had violent thoughts about ruining anyone who’s bullied him.

so, after much contemplation, he decided to confess.

the first time, he decided it was going to be simple. he was gonna hand you a bouquet of flowers afterschool, and ask if he could court you. simple enough, right? he’s look clean and awesome.

but when the time finally arrived, he found himself to have cold feet.

yes, he’d have the comfort of knowing he would have composure, but what if you reject him? then can he keep going on with the calm, collected manner? would you think a simple bouquet of flowers would be too little?

fortunately for you, you ended up having a pretty vase of flowers. unfortunately for azul, you wouldn’t know who it came from.

the second time, azul went on full glam.

it’s be an incredibly romantic setting. It's just you and azul, chatting away after hours of mostro lunge and you’d fall right into his trap of charms, and just when you’re feeling him, he’d confess. so while you have a good impression of him, would you receive a confession from him.

fancy food, calm, quiet setting.

azul was so sure he’d be able to do this that he even let jade and floyd intervene and help out.

yet when you and azul were talking, he found himself stuttering, quite a hot mess.

although you seemed quite confused and calm, azul was in a nervous state.

he’d start overthinking again, his head wandering off to merry land, thinking about the possible results of this confession. perhaps this was too excessive? Maybe the simple bouquet of flowers from before would’ve been better. you seemed to have enjoyed them.

no! azul already got this far, he has to do this!

“so, uhm… prefect…” azul behind, breathing in deeply.

you turned to look, and blinked at him. “yeah?”

…fuck.

it was like you wanted him to fail, batting your eyelashes (you literally just blinked) and looking so cute in front of him (you just inhaled a shit ton of free food)

“a-ah… is there anything else you want? I’m feeling quite generous.”

azul wanted to sprint out. he messed up again! It seems that the words “i like you” weren’t coming out of his mouth anytime soon.

you frowned. “really? you really don’t have it out for me?”

azul shook his head, and smiled. “you can trust me.”

you shrugged. “oh well. whatever debt I have to pay will be something future me can deal with.” you flapped the menu open.

It took quite a bit of convincing for the twins to drag you here, since you were suspicious as to why azul wanted to suddenly meet you, offering free food out of nowhere. azul was wasting all of it.

the twins will never let him see the end of it.

…and never seeing the end of it was he right.

even after such a mess up, predictably, the twins kept teasing azul about it. they’d even use it against him sometimes.

“ah…you’re making us do all of this when you helped you prepare a confession for the prefect and you didn’t even confess… and wasted our time…sigh….”

it was horrible down here with jade and floyd.

if he… possibly tried confessing to you again… would they stop?

although it seemed azul was in the dumps of announcing his love for you, it made him think about it again. freedom… from the twins… is this what heaven is like?

it wasn’t like azul completely stopped thinking of you, in fact, you appeared in his thoughts even more now, which seemed impossible already but who’s to tell?

you slowly consumed his mind, it drove azul insane. what’s even worse is that you’re completely blind to it, so he can’t even go to you for comfort from this madness.

it’s technically your fault, and also not your fault at the same time!

the days went by, and azul couldn’t tolerate it any longer.

yes, he wanted to appear as awesome and composed as he could in front of you, but you were driving him nuts without trying— azul just liked you so much. He couldn’t just hold inside him, of course he would go mad!

and anyways, third times the charm, right?

however, for the unlucky octopus, he just can’t seemed to find the right time. you were constantly surrounded by people, and if you were, for the rare occasion, alone, azul would freeze up at the unexpected chance.

this crush on you got even worse as well, turning more red by the second, compared to his slight discomfort from his early days.

he was already imagining a relationship with you, embarrassingly giggling to himself like a little girl with his eyes closed in bed. it was starting to take a toll on him when his head wandered astray to thoughts of marriage… it was like the world slapped him in the face as if to say hey! your life plans are totally going down the drain because you are pathetically in love!

he's spent many days mumbling to himself like crazy. stuck to be a paranoid businessman, considering every possibility and outcome he might receive if he ever told you his feelings, especially if you were to reject him. his eyes burned from being unable to sleep at night from overthinking and the stacks of papers he had to get through because he lost track of his focus thinking of you.

now you were ruining his life.

and what were you doing? nothing.

it's like whenever you were bored, you decided to prance around the daises of his life; an unstoppable force, preventing azul from functioning normally.

this isn't like him.

"this isn't like you." said jade, leaning towards azul so that he could hear jade's hushed voice over the chatty crowds of the mostro lounge. "you're not still stuck on about the whole prefect thing, are you?"

azul sighed. "admittedly, i am." he took off his glasses and massaged his temple. "i have barely gotten any work done. what is wrong with me?"

jade chuckled. "why are you so worried? honestly, you should just walk up to them and ask. that's what i would do."

"i'm not you, jade" azul groaned. “I can’t just confidently stride to them and ask them out.”

“well of course you can’t!”

“ouch.”

“my apologies. let me reword that. you can’t do that because you’re not me. how about you do it in a way that doesn’t make you look so cool? after all, you’re quite the opposite of that. wouldn’t the truth be more endearing?”

still… ouch. but it wasn’t like jade was wrong. azul is, unfortunately, far from cool. Even though that is what he likes to display.

“and what if the prefect says yes after you ask them out with that mask of yours? are you going to keep pretending until they get sick of you?”

azul couldn’t reply. what could he say?

“just be normal. after all, i couldn’t stand to watch you like this after you made me and floyd do all that work and was still incapable of asking them out. do you know how difficult it was for me to drag the prefect here? uhehehehehe.” jade wiped away a fake tear.

azul just groaned and walked away.

a little frustrated, a little annoyed, his courage seemed to have broken the roof when he saw you walk in with grim, bickering about who knows what.

he thought back to his daydreams. the images of you smiling, holding hands, soft kisses in secret, his heart was not well.

he slowly dug deep into his head to take out a precious daydream of his;

nothing special,

it was you slowly mouthing the words “I. Love. You.” to him.

“prefect,” azul said, tapping your shoulder.

you gave your full attention to him, happily. “what’s up azul?”

“I like you. would you allow me to take you out on a date?”

a/n hi guys.. shoujo bf is coming im serious pls b patient w me 💀💀

[tokyo-debunker-idk]

Crushed | 01

Summary: He's tried to convince Leo that you're a cool person, to which the former just scoffs and accuses Sho of having a crush. Honestly, the reaction is obnoxious – people of the opposite sex are perfectly able to have platonic friendships. Just because Sho's taken to bringing an extra lunch for you on training days so you can eat together after, and he enjoys spending time with you, and you're pretty and smell good even after an hour of sparring, doesn't mean he has a crush.

Pairing: Haizono Sho x Reader x Kurosagi Leo

Genre: Humor, romantic comedy, slowish burn, no real plot, Leo bullying

18+, minors DNI

~~~~~

"If you can't do it what's even the point of taking you on missions?"

Leo's condescending, disappointed tone cuts you like a knife. Your stigma-enhancing ability, one of the only reasons you're supposed to be useful at this academy, didn't work on Sho during the mission.

"You just expect us to protect you? You're dead weight. Right, Sho?"

You tune out the rest of their conversation as shame flares in your chest, hot and painful. As much as you want to fight Leo's cruel words, the inherent truth behind them clogs your throat. Because he's right. You can't fight, you don't know anything about anomalies, and you've had to be rescued in every mission even when your ability did work.

He doesn't have to be such a dick about it, though. Stupid finger-hearting TikTok asshole. Harsh truths are even harsher when they come from someone you dislike, and you've disliked the pretty, silver-haired influencer ever since you met him, when he unnecessarily antagonized your friends just for his amusement. The impression has only been further compounded by his attitude during the mission, and just how convincingly he was able to spin tales and fake emotions and tears to convince his audience. Leo is a manipulative bastard, and you don't trust him one bit.

Unfortunately, that doesn't make any of his current words less valid. At this rate, you're going to die sitting on your ass while the ghouls do all the work. You only have a year until your curse kills you, and you've already almost died more than once. So why are you being so timid and hesitant? Might as well risk earlier death by giving it your all than sit passively and hope everything works out.

Your resolve grows, and by the time you're back at your own chapel-dorm, you've made a decision.

~~~~~

Sho blinks as he arrives at the Vagastrom Pit at lunch, because for some reason the honor student is already there. Looking at you gives him a twinge of shame – sure, he'll scam rich assholes with Leo and follow his plots, but he's never almost caused an innocent person's death before. Especially one who has done nothing but try to help others, the entire time he's known you.

The look of panic on your face, the way you had tried to reach out – still trusting him to save you despite his failure – had plagued his dreams last night, and seeing you solid, safe, and alive in front of him now is more of a relief than he wants to admit.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, making you squeak and almost drop your phone, and he resolutely does not notice that it's quite cute. He doesn't really deserve to.

For some reason you're the one who looks guilty, despite having done nothing wrong. And then he notices you're wearing athletic gear rather than your usual uniform.

"Alan told you to come here at lunch for training, right?" you ask, standing up and tossing your phone carelessly into your bag to give him your full attention in a way Leo never does. "I want to join."

"Are you crazy?" asks Sho incredulously, wondering why on earth you would voluntarily sign up for what is most likely going to be a beatdown. Based on how the mission went, you've never even been anywhere near a fight before coming to Darkwick. So why this?

"No. Maybe." you reply, your face determined. "But I'd rather be crazy than useless."

Oh. So that's why.

Alan arrives right then, which is probably a good thing because Sho feels a nauseating mixture of shame and – admiration? The reminder of Leo's jibes makes guilt bubble in his stomach, but something about the staunch resolve on your face fills his chest with a warmth akin to the first time he held your hand on the mission. Or maybe it's an after effect of you enhancing his stigma.

Sho's not really sure, but he does decide then and there that he is going to do his best to make it up to you.

~~~~~

"Oh my god, this is so good," you practically moan as you take a huge bite of your sandwich. "Sho, you should charge for this." You're so invested in your meal that you miss the way the tips of his ears turn pink at your praise.

"It's just a sandwich," he replies, brushing off your comment and resisting the urge to twirl his silver hair like a schoolgirl. The two of you are eating in the courtyard after getting pummeled by Alan for the better half of the lunch hour, sitting in the grass because all the benches are already occupied.

He shouldn't feel this pleased by your approval, but as he's gotten to know you, he's come to respect and value your opinion. Sure, maybe at first he had begun spending time with you out of guilt, but you really are cool – fun and snarky in a way he hadn't noticed during the mission. Hanging out with you is comfortable, easy, and he doesn't have to worry about silly intrigues and gossip. You're honest and upfront in a way Leo has never been, and while he loves his best friend, being around you is refreshing.

And you're determined, never complaining during the training sessions no matter what Alan has you do despite the fact that you're clearly out of your element. Sho supposes Alan saw that in you long before he did, because the captain seems completely unsurprised by your conviction. It makes him feel a little ashamed in a different way than guilt – that he has nothing to strive for other than whatever Leo comes up with.

Sho kind of wishes the three of you could hang out together, but Leo's made it clear he has no interest in ever interacting with you, and you look distinctly uncomfortable any time Leo is in the vicinity. Which Sho can't exactly blame you for, considering his friend's behavior.

He's tried to convince Leo to give you a chance, to which the former merely scoffs and accuses Sho of having a crush. Honestly, the reaction is obnoxious – people of the opposite sex are perfectly able to have platonic friendships. Just because Sho's taken to bringing an extra lunch for you on training days so you can eat together after, and he enjoys spending time with you, and you're pretty and smell good even after an hour of sparring, doesn't mean he has a crush.

"No, I'm serious," you insist, jabbing the half-eaten sandwich at him for emphasis. "The fried egg is salted perfectly, and I never thought of including green onion with other veggies. It's really delicious."

The sweetly earnest expression on your face brings that familiar warmth to his chest, and Sho can't help but smile when he notices a dab of mayo on your nose.

"So you're saying I should start charging you for these lunches?" he teases, using his thumb to wipe the condiment off your face and absently noting how soft your skin feels.

"What? I don't get VIP privileges for being adorable?" you reply with a pout that is, indeed, adorable. Sho just snorts at your audacity as he wipes his hand on a napkin.

"No, you don't. But I suppose I can give you friend privileges since we're both being physically abused together."

Your eyes sparkle when you smile, and Sho feels that fluttery warmth again. They really do need to do more testing with your ability.

"Thanks Sho, you're the best," you announce happily, dropping your head on his shoulder affectionately. "I'm glad you're my friend. And not just for the food, either."

How do you still smell so nice after all that sweating?

~~~~~

TikTokBitch: Hey honor roll

You: What do you want

TikTokBitch: I know ur free

TikTokBitch: Come to the garage quick

Your brows crinkle as you scowl at your phone. Does he really think you're going to just rush over like an obedient little puppy? If his personality matched his good looks, you'd be happy to help him. It's truly a waste that such a gigantic turd has such a pretty exterior.

You pause, an idea sparking in your head.

You: I will if you owe me a favor

TikTokBitch: Whatever fine just hurry up

~~~~~

Leo rolls his eyes in annoyance as you stroll into the Pit, tape wrapped around your knuckles as if you're actually going to fight.

He'd been surprised when your "favor" had been to spar with him, of all things. Are you trying to impress him or something? Maybe you think close physical contact will make him like you. Sad, really.

Still, he had stupidly agreed to give you a favor in his impatience to hear more clandestine conversations, and now he's here wasting his precious time. He thought you'd learned your place after your mission together, but apparently he'll have to humble you again. Leo isn't exactly a fighter, but he is still a ghoul, and that means an NPC like you doesn't stand a chance.

Which is why it's laughable that you're stretching as if this is serious, like it's a real pit match rather than just the two of you here at night. Leo hasn't even told Sho, because he doesn't like the way his friend seems to be getting closer to you by the day.

Leo contemplates how Sho has been spending his lunch hours with you. Does he actually have a crush on you despite his denials? You're not even that interesting.

He narrows his eyes as he watches you finish warming up, trying to understand what Sho sees in you.

You are kind of brave, he supposes, considering you've been a normal person without any knowledge of this side of the world until recently. And you have a pretty face, when it's not twisted into a sour expression every time you see him. You also have a nice ass, he vaguely notes as you finish warming up. Then he realizes he's ogling and snaps out of it, irritated because you're definitely wearing those little shorts to show yourself off in a way your uniform skirt doesn't.

He really needs to get Sho off campus so he remembers other girls exist, because this is ridiculous. You aren't special, and Sho obviously needs to be reminded of that.

~~~~~

"I win," you sing out smugly, smirking down at the ghoul you've pinned beneath you. Leo's pretty face exudes irritation, if not a little bit of shock, which just serves to boost your ego even more. Not for the first time, you lament that such beautiful golden eyes and sharp cheekbones belong to an asshole like him.

"Don't get cocky," he hisses in frustration, too stunned to do anything but glare. "Just because you caught me off guard, doesn't mean you're any less use–"

– SLAP.

You are so sick of his shit. Perhaps he did underestimate you, but that doesn't make your victory any less valid. If you've learned anything from Alan and Sho (other than that it's possible to be sore in muscles you didn't even realizes existed), it's that there are no rules in a real fight. When you're trying to survive, any and all possibilities should be taken advantage of. The one time you managed to land a hit on Sho (not that it caused any actual damage), he hadn't been pissed and petulant. He'd been proud, approval for you shining from his handsome face.

Leo, on the other hand, can't seem to stand the idea of anyone being better than him. Or even having more attention than him. All he does is manipulate and pull down everyone around him, and you are done hearing the poison that drips from his lips. You open your own mouth to give him a piece of your mind when you feel it.

It being something stirring beneath you, and you're reminded that you are straddling the TikTok asshole in a rather compromising position. One glance at his face shows reddening skin from your slap and shock in his golden eyes.

What the fuck.

"G-get off me," he mutters, staunchly looking anywhere but at you as a rosy flush creeps up his neck. Holy shit. Did slapping him… turn him on?

It's the first time you've ever seen him this flustered, and as disgusted as you are, a petty part of you is pleased to finally have the upper-hand. For this small period of time, you seem to be the one in control, and that feeling is… satisfying in a way you're not currently ready to acknowledge.

So you make a somewhat questionable decision. Instead of scrambling off him as you probably should, you grind against him just ever so slightly. Leo's gaze meets yours, wide in surprise as you feel him harden beneath you, and at the edge of your vision you see his fingers twitch as his hands inch toward your hips.

You slap his other cheek, and feel him twitch against your shorts despite the way his eyes burn with rage. You give him your sweetest smile, infinitely pleased to have confirmed your suspicions, the sting of your palms a satisfying proof of victory.

Then, you do what any other vindictive human would do. You flick his forehead and get up, very charitably resisting the urge to kick him before walking away.

Before he can do anything other than gawk and splutter, Alan and Sho enter the room. Perfect timing actually, because despite your bravado you actually have no idea what to do next other than run away as realization of what you had just done crashes into you.

"Oh hey guys!" you chirp happily, doing what you do best and shoving the event into a dusty corner of your brain to avoid thinking about it. You prance over to the two and tackle Sho in a hug, just to annoy your opponent even further. "I beat Leo!"

Alan's lips quirk into what, for Alan, counts as a smile, and he pats your head gently.

"Good work."

You still haven't really decided if you have the best luck, or the worst. Sure, you've been cursed by a creepy one-eyed flower to die within a year, and sure you're basically Darkwick's slave and periodically sent on dangerous missions with superhumans of questionable mental stability, but well.

At least they're hot.

And most of them treat you like a human being, other than perhaps Jin who sees you as a glorified chore-peasant, and Leo who perhaps after today will stop looking at you like gum stuck to his shoe.

"You've been training with them?"

You turn to see the man in question, looking pissed but otherwise back to normal as if nothing has happened. He's still looking at you like you're unworthy of his acknowledgement, and you can't help but antagonize him.

"Yeah, maybe you should too. It seemed like you were having a hard time out there."

His expression twists – a mixture of furious and mortified – and it's more than enough to have made all this training with it.

Sho chortling as he teases Leo for losing to you is just the icing on the cake.

~~~~~ Masterlist | Next