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natalicss · 7 days ago

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Like We Were In Paris II

kwon ji-yong x american pop star!reader

part one

summary: you and ji-yong have been dating for a couple years, and you’ve kept under the radar this entire time. after the gala de pièces juanes, you two attend the chanel spring-summer 2025 haute contour show. however, the two of you are starting to get tired of keeping your relationship a secret.

warnings: not proofread AT ALL! i’m way too lazy for that, sorry. celeb!reader, implied age gap (reader is mid-twenties), lots of fluff, lil bit of angst, use of y/n, i still don’t know how to use this app i feel like an elderly man using a cell phone.

word count: 4.9K

nat’s notes: hey y’all! i came back for part two AS PROMISED! this was actually very hard for me to write as i kept changing my mind about how i wanted this to go. so im sorry in advance if its not all that great LMAO. i do wanna write a lil more about american pop star reader & jiyong, maybe i’ll do some sort of head canons about them, or some stuff about their relationship early on. i’m not sure. i also tagged the people who asked to be & i will try to keep tagging people in the future (if they wanna be). anywhore, i hope that you guys enjoy this, if you don’t…sorry<3 toodles!

tag list: @infinetlyforgotten @petersasteria

After the successful Gala Des Pièces Jaunes event, you had spent the next couple days in dressing rooms. You had been invited to Chanel’s Spring-Summer 2025 Haute Couture Show. You said yes, of course, having an affinity for fashion, and never turning down the chance to be near your long-term boyfriend. You and Ji-yong had been to a couple of the same fashion shows before. It was always easy to slip by with nobody noticing your connection. Oftentimes, you two were not seated remotely near each other and are far too busy with the peers around you to sneak away.

But this last week felt particularly more difficult. Unlike in America or South Korea, where you knew the paparazzi and knew very well how to remain under the radar, the Paris press was more complicated. You and Ji-yong had to weave your way around in more secrecy than ever. Every method you could imagine. Some instances, the two of you would sneak through a back door and slide into cars to avoid the cameras. Other instances, the two of you would make separate nonchalant appearances. Ji-yong would leave the hotel first, shy and polite as he waved and greeted the people around him as he’d slip into a car and drive off to his next location. You, wearing designer clothes and sunglasses as you walked out with a big smile and a more confident approach. You’d get in your own car, sliding into the back with your security with a huff. Within moments, you’d open your phone to shoot a text to your lover.

Y/N

i didnt get to say it before you left, but you look handsome today<3

You knew it’d only be a moment before he responded.

Ji<3

Thank you, Aein, you look beautiful!

You and Ji-yong hated that you couldn’t spend this Paris trip together more. After all, you two had all of the same events, same meetings, same friends to visit, and yet you couldn’t be by his side at any of it, not in public. Part of you didn’t mind, used to the routine, but part of you was starting to grow tired. It wasn’t like two years ago, when you first started dating. At that time, Ji-yong was still on hiatus, you were working on your fourth album, and everything had to be a secret. Secret vacations, secret visits, secret dinner dates where the two of you wore silly disguises. You were good sports, making a game out of it and playing ridiculous characters to see who cracked first. But that was two years ago. He was back in the spotlight again, you had released your fifth album a few weeks ago, he was releasing his own work. You two were confident in your relationship, everyone was. What was holding you back?

There was no black and white answer. On one hand, now was the perfect time to announce to the world that their rumors of you dating a random Hollywood actor were all false. On the other hand, were you so willing to give up that last piece of privacy you did have? You weren’t worried about the hate on either side, despite knowing how fans often get if they don’t approve of their favorite celebrities' relationship.

You had been in a public relationship way before Ji-yong. It was years ago, back when you were still new to the world of fame and glamour. Every corner you turned, the cameras flashing, the wave of hate you’d received, the amount of gossip around every song you released being about them or not, their interviews for their movies always being about you. Your careers had been forced to blend due to the way people reacted. The world had taken your last relationship by storm and had seemingly strangled it with their love and adoration. The lack of privacy, individuality, and respect for the two of you had been what led to you and your last partners split. It took the two of you years before the media finally stopped associating everything either of you did together. So, understandably, part of you was worried about that happening again.

You thought about all of this as you and Ji-yong were getting ready for the day. You both had things to attend to, tomorrow being the fashion show. One last fitting, one last meeting with your teams. You were styling your hair as Ji-yong had finished getting dressed, the agreement for him to leave the hotel first still agreed on. He looked at you, and you could see the way his eyes softened as he observed your eyes. He knew everything about you, down to the way your face looked when you were deep in thought, perhaps about to drown yourself with your ability to overthink.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked, speaking in Korean first as he approached. You didn’t say anything, busy running your fingers through your hair as he quietly stepped next to you. He met your eyes in the mirror, his lips curling. “There she is.” You blushed at his words, putting your hands down as you finally turned your body to face him. “What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” He asks, reaching up to adjust your hair framing your face.

You didn’t know where to start. You and Ji-yong had talked about this a million times before. You two had always agreed to keep things the way they are. You weren’t sure if he was ready to change that. As he watched you get lost in your thoughts again, he tilted his head to meet your gaze. Your eyes were glossy, not all there as you already started mapping out every way the conversation could go, preparing yourself for every out come.

“Jagiya, you’re worrying me,”

You blink. It takes you a second to come back to the present, taking a deep breath as you try to explain the heavy complicated feelings in your heart. “I’ve been thinking, through this whole trip,” You subconsciously reach for his hands, looking for comfort and something to anchor you down. He lets you, his thumb running along your skin in soothing patterns. “I don’t know how much longer I want to keep us a secret.” You blurt, staring at your connected hands rather than his eyes. You were too worried about what you might find.

There’s a beat of silence. Then another. Your heart twists in anxiety, but you don’t dare to look up. Ji-yong’s breathing changes, only the slightest bit, but you notice. He stops his thumb from tracing its delicate patterns, instead letting it tap against your skin. You feel guilty. You both had so much to do today, this conversation could have waited til tonight, after the show tomorrow, or at just about any other time. You weren’t sure, but you knew this wasn’t it.

Ji-yong adjusts his posture, pulling one hand away from yours, only to bring it to your face. With the gentlest touch, he lifts your head so you finally see his eyes. They’re not angry, or frustrated, or even remotely annoyed. Instead, they’re as soft and warm as they’d always been, making your heart flutter the slightest bit. To be honest, Ji-yong had thought about this too. He’d admitted before that going public worried him. He was a celebrity, and that immediately brings its own multitudes of hardships. He knew that he’d keep any and all relationships a secret, unless the person he was with said otherwise. You had come into his life, unexpectedly, and changed his entire world in the best ways he could imagine. And here you were, the person he knew was the love of his life, staring back at him with sadness because of that very sentiment.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been feeling it too. He wanted to hold your hand down the streets of Paris, the two of you pointing out different things you loved about it, sharing kisses under streetlights. That night at the Gala, he had wanted to kiss you as soon as he was off the stage. And when you were finished performing? He wanted to part the crowd and sweep you into his arms, like he did at your own tours. But he’d been worried, worried about what people might say to you or about you. He knew how harsh they got. He knew you could handle it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to put you in that position unless you were ready.

His hand, which caresses your face with a certain level of sincerity you only ever felt from him, was soft and moved gently. He smiled, a soft gentle one that made you feel more at ease as you realized he wasn’t mad at you in any way. “It hasn’t been easy, has it?” He asks you, raising a brow. You only shake your head, lips pursed into a line. He studies your features like you’re a work of art (cause you are). “I miss every second I’m not with you. All I can think about is where you might be. If you’re smiling. If you’re anxious. If you’re laughing. If you’re thinking about me, too.” He leans in close, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And then you text me, and all I can think about is how lucky I am to be with you, and how mad I am that you’re not next to me.” You nod in understanding. You’d always felt that way about him, to the point it made your heart clench.

“I love you,”

“I love you more.”

You’re blushing wildly as he kisses your lips softly. Your feelings for him being translated into simple intimate touches. You’d never experienced something like Ji-yong before. You never wanted to let that go.

When he pulls away, he’s reaching for your jacket hanging off the back of a chair. You smile at him, memorizing his face like you’d done a million times before. You slide your arms into the jacket, letting your boyfriend adjust your outfit slightly. He focuses on your hair, bringing it out form under it and framing your face. Everytime his fingers brush your skin it leaves faint tingles in their wake.

“Why don’t we talk to everyone when we get home?” He suggests, looking back at you. Your eyes widen. You search his expression. “If you’re positive, then I’m with you.”

You smiled wide. You couldn’t help it. “I’ve never been so sure of anything.” Your arms wrap around his neck, and he laughs softly as you start to kiss all over his face. “I want nothing more than to scream about how I’m dating G-Dragon.” He rolls his eyes playfully, still not used to you using his stage name after all this time.

The rest of your days went smoothly. Both of you finishing up with your work, having dinner with friends, coming back to the hotel room to spend every possible moment together. Soft laughter as you each told stories from your pasts (many you’ve already told), legs tangled together under the sheets of your bed. Small intimate touches. Fingers tracing shapes on skin. Gentle kisses. Messy hair. If possible, your eyes were certainly heart shaped every moment you looked at him.

It was hard to hide it, even now, as you sit at the Chanel show. Both of you had arrived at different times, wearing extravagant outfits. You could feel his eyes on you as you posed for the cameras. He tried to keep his composure when he knew you were near by as he did interviews. Luckily for both of you, you’ve had years of practice. You held your head high with confidence, switching your energy from your usual softer self to the person you were on stage. America’s pop star. America’s princess. The way you posed yourself elegantly, batting your full lashes and gave your most sultry looks. How was Ji-yong supposed to not look? You were sitting in your seat, looking down at your phone as a text popped up.

Ji<3

You’re the most beautiful one here

You looked across the runway, your heart skipping a beat. He was already looking at you, a knowing shy smile on his face as he kept his phone in his hand. You smiled back at him, looking back at your phone.

Y/N

Says you<3 I love you

You put your phone in your lap, looking around some more. You felt lucky you had been to so many events, most of these people you already knew one way or another. It made small talk with the people next to you flow easily. Every now and again, you’d sneak a glance at your boyfriend, who was always staring at you like you were the show itself. It was hard to hide your blushed face, keep your voice from pitching when you talked to the other celebrities, and nearly impossible not to stare right back at him.

The show itself seemed to pass by with ease. You watched thoughtfully at every piece, making mental notes of things you particularly liked and wanted to mention to your assistant later. You’d lean over to your new friend of the night, whispering about different pieces and sharing your thoughts. You could see Ji-yong completely focused on the show, his eyes studying every model with intrigue. It was clear every piece that came out was being calculated into various looks. If he thought of something that worked, he’d raise his phone and take a quick photo. You smiled every time, excited to hear what he was thinking of later.

As the show came to an end, you were talking with your team as you felt someone graze past you. You looked up to see your familiar boyfriend, smiling at you fondly. You knew there were cameras everywhere, one minor slip leading to a whirlwind of chaos and news articles. The anxiety in your chest felt tight, but you kept your cool, straightening your posture and giving him a smile.

Ji-yong looked around, as if silently piecing together something. You followed his gaze, trying to see exactly what he was looking at. To you, there was nothing particularly interesting one way or another. Some fellow stars were talking, being interviewed, or just admiring the scene. Photographers were taking photos of guests, journalists asking people various questions. To you, it looked like every other fashion show even you’d been to. To Ji-yong, it looked like an opportunity.

There were no words shared. His hand clasped around yours, and without thinking your fingers tightened around his. You blinked in surprise, looking ahead as Ji-yong started pulling you through the sea of people. You were wide-eyed as you looked around. Your teams hadn’t noticed you disappearing, but you knew that wouldn’t last long. But Ji-yong moved with purpose, walking through like this wasn’t strange or something other people should take a second glance at. You tried to mimic his confidence, but the butterflies in your stomach refused to simmer down.

In a quiet corner away from the cameras and the wandering eyes, Ji-yong finally came to a stop. You looked at him with a surprised expression. Your lipstick-painted lips parted slightly as you watched him look at you. He adjusted the tie around his neck, something he’d been doing the entire day. You looked behind you, worried who was watching, but a hand wrapping around your waist caught your attention.

His lips pressed against yours. Soft, passionate, and urgent. You squeaked in surprised against him, your hands landing on his chest as he pulled you further into the corner. Hidden away from your peers, from your teams, and from the layers of paparazzi. Your hands clutched tighter onto his jacket. His hands, which traced your body slowly, slowly lifted to grab your face with the most gentle touch. As he pulled away, you could only blink at him with big doe eyes.

“I couldn’t stand there and act like you weren’t the most beautiful thing here.” He whispers.

The words caused your heart to do flips against your ribcage. His touch seemingly brought you back to earth, his thumb gently brushing against your cheekbone. “Says you, Monsieur G-Dragon,” You tease as you run your hands over the jacket again. This time, he’s the one trying to hide the way his cheeks blush. You looked at the bow tie with the flower on it, tilting your head as you reached up, slowly maneuvering the flower off. He looks down, blinking at it as you hold the flower in your hand, “Is that better?”

He reaches up, adjusting the tie again, and smiling softly. “Yes. Thank you.” He says finally. “How are you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual” You sigh dramatically, shrugging your shoulders. Ji-yong chuckles, nodding in understanding. “Got whisked away by a hot guy, can’t complain.”

Ji-yong raises a brow in amusement. “Is that what happened?” He asks. You look around. “What else would you call this?”

He steps closer, looking up in thought as he lets his arms wrap around your waist. His lips in a line as he tilts his head slightly. He narrows his eyes at you playfully. He didn’t have an answer. He rather liked the idea of whisking you away from the public eye. He did it often, though usually it was more hidden than this. You leaned into his touch, a natural instinct. The rest of the world seemed to drift away, even in moments like this. Only you and Ji-yong existed. Life was better with him. He knew you like the back of his hand. He knew how to make you laugh, how to calm your nerves, how to soothe your cries. He knew your favorite snacks, your order at your favorite coffee shop, and your favorite movies. The same could be said for you. You knew how to quiet his overwhelming thoughts, how to make him smile in stressful moments. You knew his favorite songs to play in the car. His favorite jewelry pieces to wear. You had his tells of when he was anxious or upset burned into your brain. And when one of you were around the other, everybody else melted into the background. Your love trumping anything else.

“We should probably get back out there,” You whisper. He hums in agreement, but neither of you make any move to leave. You lean closer into him, your head resting on his chest as his chin rested on top of your head. You knew it wouldn’t be long until the two of you were together again; a few hours at most. Lately, those hours felt like decades.

Ji-yong gave you another squeeze. “You go out first, jagiya,” He whispers. You pull away from his embrace, staring up at him. The way your glossy eyes sparkled up at him. It was like he could see every ounce of love for him you had, pouring out of you. He framed your face in his hands, kissing you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you,” You whispered against his lips. Reluctantly, you pulled away from his touch, looking back at him again as you walked away. He only smiled softly. Your heart yearned to stay in that corner with him forever, until your managers found you and ripped the two of you apart. You chewed the inside of your cheek, turning away from him completely as you looked for any sign of your team.

In the dark of your hotel room, you and Ji-yong were a tangled mess of bedsheets and limbs. The rest of the event blew by, you making some lame excuse to your team that you had gone to the bathroom, and Ji-yong telling his team that he was looking at some of the pieces again. You ended up having a romantic dinner together, talking about the event and the people you ran into. A quiet night with glasses of champagne and flirtatious glances.

But now, as the two of you were sleeping peacefully in your quiet room, your phones began to buzz. A violent series of notifications flooding both of your phones. You begin to stir first, rolling over slowly, pulling Ji-yongs arms off of you as you reached for your cellphone. A series of calls, texts, emails, all from your manager, publicist, assistant, even friends of yours. You blinked a few times, your eyes squinting at the bright screen as you opened up a text from your closest friend. A news article.

Unexpected Couple! Musician Y/N L/N Seen With K-Pop Idol G-Dragon at Chanel Fashion Show

You felt your heart plummet into your stomach. No, no, no. You had been so careful for so long. You scroll, your breath escaping you as you look at a photo of you and Ji-yong. His hands on your face, his lips on yours. Another photo of you looking up at him like he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen (he was, to be fair). For a moment, you just stared blankly. Your thoughts struggle to catch up as your body seems to react for you. Nausea came over you. The room suddenly felt too small. The words on the screen burned into your eyes.

You looked at the top of your phone, seeing another phone call from your manager coming in. You ignore it, reaching over to your boyfriend and shaking him. “Ji?” You whisper. When he doesn’t immediately respond, your eyes begin to water. The anxiety, the fear, the stress catching up to you. It crawls up your spine like some sort of ugly clawed fingers reaching for your throat. You shake him again, a little more harsh as you croak. “Ji-yong.”

His eyes shot open. He flinches awake, looking around the room in a momentary panic before looking at you. First, he relaxes, realizing it’s just you. Then, his tired eyes take in yours. The tears threatening to spill over, your shaking frame, your heavy breathing. He sits up now, looking you over in concern. “Aein…? What’s wrong?” As he wakes up, he hears his phone. He turns to look at it, but the whimper from your lips stops him. Slowly, you hand your phone over. Ji-yong looks at you in confusion, but takes it and looks down.

Oh.

What was once a comforting silence now felt cold. The incessant vibrations of his phone on the nightstand made your ears ring. You crawled out of bed, wearing one of Ji-yong’s shirts as pajamas. You paced the carpeted floor, running your hands through your hair. Ji-yong remained silent. He read the article. Then he reread it. Then he read it again. He looked at the photos over and over. The title. The numerous texts you were getting. For a moment, he didn’t know how to react. He sat in the bed, dumbstruck.

On one hand, part of him wanted to be relieved. The secret was out, and there was no reason to hide his love for you anymore. But this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be on your terms. Organized by your teams. Some staged paparazzi sighting, or maybe a hard launch on your social medias. He wasn’t sure. The two of you never discussed it that far. Now there was no choice. All because he’d dragged you into his embrace in secret. A selfish moment, now on the cover of multiple articles.

Slowly, he put your phone down, putting it on silent before reaching for his own. He winced at the number of texts he was getting, reaching triple digits. He even saw texts from Taeyang and Daesung, two of the few people who knew about your relationship. But he didn’t answer anyone, turning his own phone off so he could set his attention on your pacing figure. “Jagiya,” He pulls himself out of bed, approaching you with soft eyes. You keep pacing, shaking your head as you try to sort your racing thoughts. “Jagiya, look at me,” He reaches for your hands, pulling you to face him completely. His heart ached as he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your eyes wide with fear and worry. You wanted to go public. But not like this. You’d done so well at keeping your life private, and now it felt like it had been stripped away from you before you could even do it yourself. “I’m so sorry,”

His words caught you off guard. There’s a heartbeat of silence as you look at him. Your brows crinkle together as you look at him. His sad, anxious expression as he guiltily looks away. “What?” You whisper, a moment of clarity through your emotional storm.

Ji-yong swallows, looking around the room as he holds your hands tightly. Your touch being the only thing grounding him to this moment. “If we hadn’t, if I hadn’t pulled you away, they wouldn’t have seen anything.” He explains. Your eyes dance over his face as you let what he’s saying register. You shake your head. “Ji,” You coo, reaching forward to push his mint hair out of his face. He looks at you, eyes sad and guilty. “It’s not your fault. We knew that there was a risk. Since day one.” You remind him. You were right. Since you started dating two years ago, there was always the possibility the media would find out about the two of you. Both of you are major stars, with public lives (to some degree). “I just, I can’t believe it got leaked at a Chanel show.”

Ji-yong is quiet for a moment, looking over at you. “The photos are cute.” He says. You look at him in surprise. You think about the photos, how oddly scenic they were, how the photographer had captured a genuinely sweet and beautiful moment. You couldn’t help but laugh, wiping at your tears. Ji-yong cracks a smile, though the worry in his eyes still evident. Not worried for himself, no, but worry for you.

“Our managers are going to kill us.” You say, your voice weak from crying and still being tired. Ji-yong nods his head. “What are we going to do?”

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. “What do you want to do?” He asks you. Naturally, the two of you drift towards each other. Your arms wrap around each others frames, Your face tucked into his neck as you close your eyes. His grip on you tight, still gentle, and protective. His fingers rake through your hair as he waits. No rush for you to answer. No rush to figure out the rest of the world. He lets you simmer in his touch, your mind still racing.

You clutch onto him, not moving away from him as you start to talk. “I want you. That’s it. I want to be able to be with you. I’m not ashamed of being with you, Ji. I’m proud. So proud of you, being with you. I love you.” You feel his arms tighten around you. Slowly, you lift your head and look into his eyes. Now, they were glassy.

Ji-yong blinks away the pending tears as he sniffles. “You’re the love of my life, Y/N,” He whispers, reaching up to push your hair out of your face. You lean into his touch. “I will never be afraid to say that.”

You lean closer, kissing him softly. Your heart still pounding against your chest, your mind still a storm of fear and worry for what wrath you’d face from the media, but it didn’t matter. Not in the long run. You had Ji-yong. You loved Ji-yong more than you could ever explain to him or anyone else. And you knew that the two of you would figure it out together. You’d figure out everything together.

“Are you ready?” He asks you, looking at your phones on the bed. This was it. No more secret rendezvous. No more sneaking around. No more lying in interviews about your relationship status. Everybody knows now. There was no hiding from it now.

You smile at him, your eyes sparkling in the way he loved. You nod your head. “I’m ready,” You assure him.

And by the time the two of you would be leaving Paris, on your way back to Seoul, the entire world knew the secret you’d been keeping to yourselves. And in the early morning as you rushed out of your hotel with your security guards, you two didn’t hide from the paparazzi. Ji-yong walked with you, hand-in-hand, as you walked towards your car. The shouts of fans and cameras catch your attention. You smile and wave, blushing wildly as you realize this was real.

Ji-yong stands up straighter, his hand tightening in yours as he pulls you close. His hand releases yours, only to wrap around your waist tightly as he leads you forward. Ji-yong opens the door for you, despite the security guard reaching for it. Fans scream in awe, and you lean over quickly to press a kiss on his cheek. A weight you didn’t know was there, suddenly lifted. You beamed as Ji-yong slid into the seat next to you. His expression matched yours. Filled with love, excitement, a certain fondness and admiration. “Au revoir, Paris,” Ji-yong muttered as the car started to move. You giggled, leaning into him as you looked around the streets.

“Taeyang and Daesung will never let us hear the end of this.” You muttered, playing with Ji-yong's fingers absentmindedly. A gentle groan comes from Ji-yong, causing you to laugh again. An infinite amount of teasing and playful jokes awaited the two of you back home. Along with a million questions from friends, coworkers, the media, and who knows who else. But you were okay with that. It hadn’t been completely on your terms, but it was yours. Ji-yong was yours.

And if nothing else, it made your stories about Paris far more entertaining.

#kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon x reader #gdragon #kwon jiyong #bigbang #bigbang x reader #kpop fluff #kwon jiyong fanfic #fanfic #x reader

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breezeflows · 6 months ago

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The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Chapter 4

Y’ALL THIS ONE WAS/IS A ROUGH ONE. I had a lot of writers block with this chapter, but I think I finally accomplished fitting in everything I wanted it to have! Also just for clarification, a lot of things that happened in this chapter will be discussed more thoroughly in future chapters! (Aka Ford’s perspective.) Thank you everyone so much for your patience and continued support!! With that, here is absolutely gut wrenching chapter 4!!

Also, last thing I promise, if you want to be added to the tag list, just comment!

Themes: Lying, Arguments, Strong language, Lotsss of bottled up emotions, Fiddleford gets traumatized by the portal, Ford over prioritizing Bill and his work over sleep/his wife etc, all the fun stuff! This chapter is very sad! But we will finally be back to the present in chapter 5!

You found yourself waking in the late afternoon, your bags now packed and in hand as you make your way out of Lizzy’s apartment. And although you were a nervous wreck to return home and confront Ford about last night’s events, you were also happy at the thought you’d be sleeping in your own bed tonight. You were hopeful that Ford would have a good explanation. Maybe he was drunk out of his mind, due to your absence, or maybe Fiddleford brought the two of them there after a breakthrough in their research. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

You keep your thoughts running as you settle into the passenger seat of Lizzy’s car. Your mind is a flurry of hope, worry, and anxiety as you mull over all the different possibilities of what happened last night.

Lizzy hops into the driver’s seat, her gaze flickering over to you as she senses your nerves.

“Hey,” she says softly. “Everything will be okay, alright? I’m sure Ford has a good explanation for everything. At least, he better.”

You let out a nervous sigh, once again fiddling with your wedding band as you try to steady yourself.

“I hope so,” you murmur, eyes drifting out the window as Lizzy kicks the vehicle in motion. “I really don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t.”

Lizzy places a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Let’s just focus on getting there for now, okay? Try not to imagine any worst-case scenarios until we actually talk to him.”

You give a small nod as she drives, the world outside becoming a blur of trees and late afternoon sun.

6:00 PM.

With a final turn down the gravel path, you arrive at the place you consider home, the cabin. The familiarity of your surroundings should be relieving, yet you find yourself on edge, tugging down on the beanie that rested against your head.

You unclip your seatbelt as the car hauls to a stop, Lizzy turning to give you a reassuring smile.

“I’ll drive around closeby.” she says. “In case things go, you know, not so great.”

You nod softly, thanking her as you grab your bags from the backseat, stepping out of the car. The gravel under your feet crunches with each step, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way to the front door of your home, a nervous hand twisting the knob and pushing it open. As you step foot into the familiar space, you’re surprised to find Ford in the living room. He’s seated on the couch, working on what seemed to be some sort of gadget on the coffee table.

He looks up as you enter, his expression casual with a hint of excitement.

“You’re back!” He states as he stands, approaching you with a warm smile.

You swallow hard, clutching your bags tightly as you regard him warily.

“I missed you, how was your trip? There’s so much I have to tell you, Fiddleford and I had a major breakthrough this weekend!”

Ford’s words are light and pleasant, and he looks genuinely happy to see you. A stark difference from how he was the night before. He steps closer to you, looking as if he’s about to pull you into an embrace, but you take a step back, releasing your bags from your grip.

Ford’s smile falters for a brief moment, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

“Where were you last night?”

He seems taken aback by your blunt question, a brow raised as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Ah… well I was here, working with Fiddleford, like I said.” he replies, gesturing to the gadget on the table. “Why do you ask?”

Your heart twists in your chest as you clench your fists, frown adorning your lips.

“Is that all..?”

Ford looks perplexed by your question, his eyes filled with concern as he takes a step towards you, his expression growing increasingly more confused and worried.

“What do you mean? Where else would I have been?”

You go to speak, but falter, looking down at the floor as you hold your elbow sheepishly.

“Nevermind.. It’s nothing, sorry.”

Ford pauses, his concern only deepening as he watches you avoid his gaze. He takes another step closer, his voice gentle.

“Y/N, please tell me what’s wrong,” he says, reaching out to touch your arm.

“You’ve been acting strange ever since you came through the door… Did something happen? You can talk to me.”

You swallow hard, before looking up to meet his gaze.

Ford’s expression is genuine, his grip on you squeezing gently as you gaze at him for a moment. This Ford was a huge contrast to whoever you had talked to last night, this was the man you knew and adored. Maybe you and Lizzy really did have too much to drink, and you mixed it all up with some other guy? It seemed too coincidental, but the way Ford was acting now made you second guess everything. He seemed totally unphased, and there wasn’t a single thing about his tone that would lead you to believe he was lying. This was still your husband, after all.

You shovel all of your thoughts and suspicions down as you sigh, placing a hand over the one he had rested on your arm.

“It’s nothing, I promise,” you say, cracking a soft smile as you lean into him. “I just missed you a lot. It’s good to be home.”

Ford’s eyes soften at your words, and he pulls you closer to him, gently enveloping you in his arms. He holds you close, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, his voice soft and gentle. “More than you know.”

Your ears and cheeks turn red at his words as he pulls away, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he speaks.

“So, you uh, need help with your bags?”

A soft blush covers Ford’s cheeks as you smile once more, your hand reaching to cup his cheek, thumb grazing the skin underneath.

“Sure, although I wanna hear everything you wanted to catch me up on while I unpack.”

If somehow possible, Ford’s cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink as you touch his face, his gaze flicking down to your hand before coming back up to meet your eyes. He then clears his throat, voice slightly strained.

“Y-yeah of course,” he stammers, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “We can talk in the bedroom while you unpack.”

“Sounds like a plan.” you say with a chuckle, grabbing both of your bags and handing one to Ford, placing a quick peck to his cheek before pulling away.

A small, boyish smile appears on his lips at your gesture. He quickly takes the bag you handed him, keeping his eyes on you for a moment before looking down at your luggage in his hands.

He clears his throat once more, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness as he speaks.

“Right, let’s go then.”

Ford then begins to lead the way to the bedroom, you trailing along behind him.

As you both enter your shared room you begin to unpack your bags, Ford chatting away excitedly as he helps you with your things, pulling out your clean clothes and placing them in the closet.

You smile at his enthusiasm, but you can’t help but notice the bed as you unpack. The sheets are just how you left them, pillows fluffed and blankets tucked into the edges of the frame.

“Did you get any sleep while I was gone?” you ask, shutting a drawer after you’ve placed a pair of jeans inside.

Ford pauses mid-sentence in his excited explanation, faltering as his glaze flicks from the bed to yours.

“Uh, well… no, I didn’t,” he admits, his voice laced with a hint of guilt. “With all the work Fiddleford and I’ve been doing, I guess I just forgot about sleep.”

You frown deeply as he moves to continue helping you unpack, your arms falling to your sides.

“Ford..”

Ford pauses again, a flicker of guilt in his eyes as he senses your disapproving tone.

“Just promise me that you’ll at least come to bed tonight. Okay? I worry about you when you aren’t getting any rest.”

His expression softens, gaze full of guilt and affection meeting yours. He nods in agreement, a sheepish smile crossing his face.

“I promise.”

Over the following nights, Ford makes a point of coming to bed, holding true to the word he gave you the night you returned from Lizzys. However, the pattern you had desperately hoped for doesn’t last long. The old habits return quickly, Ford abandoning the bedroom in favor of work in the lab for days on end. Days soon turn into weeks, weeks into months, and so on. You find yourself lying alone in bed each night, your mind filled with anger and frustration. Sometimes, you’re kept awake by the bright flashes and rumbling from below. A part of you wanted to stomp down there and give him a piece of your mind, to leave him and this broken marriage behind, but another part of you yearned for Ford. You longed for the day you’d see him emerge from the lab instead of Fiddleford, or the day he’d prioritize you again. Even just a simple acknowledgement of your presence, other than “hello, how are you”, would do. You missed how things used to be. You missed him.

But the day never came.

You were too stubborn to be the first to break the now built-up tension, after all it was Ford’s fault the two of you were in this predicament anyway. At least that’s what you told yourself, feeding into the false hope that things were going to somehow magically improve.

The same cycle repeated itself, leaving you feeling helpless and abandoned.

Until one night.

You found yourself lying alone in bed yet again, your head laid on what was once Ford’s pillow, his scent no longer attached to the fabric. The sounds of the lab seem louder tonight as you toss and turn, grunting in annoyance. You glance towards the clock on your nightstand, the glowing numbers reading midnight. Frustration mounts within you, the lack of any attention whatsoever from Ford wearing you down.

Suddenly, an extremely loud whir from the lab forces you to sit upright, your heart pounding in your chest as your irritation gets the best of you. Finally, you’d had enough.

You throw back the covers in an aggressive motion, swinging your legs over the bed. You pad across the room, your bare feet touching the cold hardwood floor. Each step you take fuels the growing anger in you, your patience thinning.

Reaching the door, you pull on it, the sound of it creaking open adding to the building tension. With a huff, you step forward into the darkness and descend the stairway leading to the lab.

You press the button to the elevator harshly, stepping inside the metal contraption. As you descend further you hear the sound of faint yelling, along with a thud. Your stomach twists with frustration and anxiety, your mind reeling with possibilities of what the hell was going on down there.

Finally, the elevator doors slide open, revealing a blinding blue light behind the glass window of the lab. Your feet carry you quickly to the source, dashing through the entryway when all of a sudden, your shoulders are grabbed.

Your body stiffens as your eyes adjust to the lighting, revealing a disheveled Fiddleford in front of you. His fearful eyes search your panicked ones, his grip painfully tight.

“Fiddleford-”

“You’ve got to get out of here Y/N,” he states frantically, his voice shaky. “This machine will bring about the end of the world, it’s dangerous beyond comprehension. It should never see the light of day.”

The sound of your heartbeat fills your ears as you process his words. The seriousness in his voice and panicked look in his eyes were enough to send a chill down your spine. You take a moment, before stuttering out a few words.

“What? Machine? The end of the world..?”

Before you can finish your sentence, Fiddleford leaves in a rush, your frightened gaze moving to the source of the light.

In front of you stood what seemed to be some sort of portal, with your husband standing right below it.

You watch him as you stand there, dumbstruck by fear and confusion. You clench your fists before taking a firm step forward, swallowing dryly.

“Ford..?”

He stands with his back turned to you, mumbling something before yelling aloud.

“No, you know what… I don’t need anyone!”

Your legs tremble as you make your way towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Ford jumps violently at the contact, his head whipping around to face you. His gaze widening for a moment, before turning cold and harsh.

“What..? What are you doing down here Y/N?” He snaps, his tone sharp and defensive.

Your gut clenches at his tone, your eyes brimming with tears as you finally break.

“What the actual fuck, Stanford!” You yell, hands formed into fists as you hold them in front of you.

“What is this?! This.. this thing?!” You yell, pointing towards the portal.

“This is too fucking far!!”

Ford’s eyes narrow, his irritation growing apparent. He stands his ground, stepping towards you and jabbing a finger towards your chest.

“This?” he replies, gesturing to the portal. “This is my life’s work Y/N! Everything I’ve dedicated myself towards for decades! Something you wouldn’t even understand the significance of, even if I explained it to you!”

His words cut through you like a knife, tears now streaming warmly down your cheeks. You grab hold of his wrist roughly, jerking him towards you.

“No!” you yell, your grip unrelenting.

“This is some sort of doomsday device you abandoned EVERYTHING for! That you abandoned ME for!”

Your voice breaks with that last sentence, your teeth clenching as you attempt to stifle your pain.

“I’ve stuck with you through everything, Stanford! When you lost Stanley, during those horrible years in college, through this!” You say, pointing to him and then to yourself with your free hand. “When you’ve practically neglected me as your wife, all of it! I stayed with you because I’m in love with you, Stanford!”

Ford’s eyes soften at your words, a strong flicker of guilt in his expression as you list all the sacrifices you’ve made for him.

“But I can’t,” your voice trembles with each word, your grip on his wrist loosening to where it falls back to your side.

“Y/N…”

Every emotion you’ve bottled up until now weighs down on you, your heart racing in your chest.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Your tearful gaze meets his, his heart aching at the sight.

Ford looks as if he’s been torn in two. Flashes of guilt, anger, and concern, all etching across his face as he stands there, desperately searching for the right answer. And although you never in a million years would intend for him to be put in this spot, he knows he has to choose. The person who devoted their everything to him, or everything he’s ever devoted himself to.

Ford stutters out his answer faster than he can think, sweat beading against his forehead.

“This isn’t,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, his expression heavily conflicted. “This is something monumental Y/N, something that could change the course of existence itself. I have to do this,” as Ford continues, you feel your heart snapping in two, your gaze lowering to the floor as you attempt to take in what he is saying.

“I have to finish what I started, Y/N.”

Your vision blurs with heavy tears as the two of you stand there in deafening silence.

Your expression is filled with pure distraught as you lift your head, your gaze meeting Ford’s. Although he doesn’t return it, his eyes glued to the ground with a solemn frown on his lips. Your lip trembles as you lower your head once more, standing there for a few moments before forcing yourself to turn away.

“Okay.”

Your legs feel heavy with each step, every part of you screaming at you to stay. But deep down you know you can’t, it was time for you to choose yourself for once.

So with that you trudge on, out of the lab and out of the cabin.

The cabin you once considered home.

Thank you for reading! I hope y’all like how this turned out :)

Tag list: @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum @catr4dora @slay-thou-pookie @wow-life-love4 @missgurlsstuff @violetvsworld @inquiit @mandossillyriduur @mokikow @phirbat

#gravity falls #stanford pines #gravityfallsxreader #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls fanfiction #ford pines x reader #the book of bill #gravity falls dipper #mabel pines #stanley pines #stanford pines x you #gravity falls stanford #thelongroad

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7-deadly-cats · 6 days ago

Text

killing me softly (part two)

kms masterlist | <- part one | part three (soon) ->

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, y/n being an awkward mess, subtle and indirect mention of sexual themes

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and y/n is paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week long project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if y/n wasn't awkward as hell and well ... if there wasn't her big fat crush on him. could this be the beginning of a friendship or maybe even more? one thing was certain: rafe cameron's intense, impulsive, and complex in ways that weren't always for the better, and y/n's mind? that shit was even more tangled. but she hadn't spent seven years crushing on him from a distance just to let this chance slip through her fingers ... right?

summary of recent events: y/n and rafe were paired up for a 2 week-long art project. they agreed to meet during lunch break to start working on it. after y/n picked him up after PE, they headed for the school’s dining hall.

word count: 3.3k+

a/n: i don't have much to say for this one as it's just an immediate continuation of the last one but i'm very thankful for the likes and comments on the first part. i didn't expect any at all so a big thank you to everyone who decided to support <3 i hope you also enjoy this one as well :) (also super excited when i’ll get to future parts where y/n gets to be more silly :3)

Important: I started using dividers after chat convos that include more than one screenshot, so you guys know when to switch back to the written story. Yk you usually click on the image to get a full-screen mode to read the messages easier, so whenever the blue rectangle image pops up, you know when to back out. Makes it easier to avoid potential spoilers, hope that makes sense :P

The dining hall at Kildare Academy was moderately full. Most students’ classes were already over, and a lot of Kooks went to the restaurants down the street, even though the serving station offered fresh high-quality food.

Okay, fries weren’t exactly healthy but they probably made them from potatoes grown specifically for Kooks (yes, as a Kook yourself, you were their biggest hater).

Whatever. The dining hall wasn’t the reason your heart was about to explode in your chest.

No. You were having lunch.

With. Rafe. Cameron.

If someone had told you this morning, you would’ve laughed.

Because, hello??? Rafe had been your crush since you’d first set foot in Kildare Academy in fifth grade.

Okay, not exactly special—what Figure 8 girl hadn’t had a crush on Rafe at some point?

But that wasn’t the point. This whole ... thing just felt so surreal.

A crush had always been just that—a crush. You weren’t the type to walk up to a guy and say, Hey, you’re cute, let’s go on a date. That would mean putting yourself out there and making yourself vulnerable.

And the last thing you ever wanted was to be seen.

Not in a physical way. That was unavoidable. No, what scared you was someone actually seeing you, the parts of yourself you kept locked away.

Ew, that sounded so fucking dramatic.

So while your 11-year-old self was doing backflips of joy, your 18-year-old self was having a full-blown existential crisis.

Okay, maybe not that bad.

“You were right,” Rafe said, pulling you from your thoughts. He was sitting across from you, pushing his fork through his quinoa-veggie bowl.

You eyed him confused. “About what?”

Rafe nodded toward your fries, the corner of his lips tugging into a subtle smile. “I am a fries guy. Quinoa tastes like shit and rocks.”

You glanced at his bowl before meeting his gaze again, a knowing smile on your face. “I guess it’s the color. Red and black ones are usually more bitter and more firm than their white counterparts.”

Rafe raised a brow, amused. “As a quinoa expert, you could’ve warned me.”

Your cheeks heated. You kind of had, with that dumb joke outside the gym earlier. “I thought you already knew what it tasted like.”

“I do,” he shrugged, taking a bite of his bowl anyway. “Maybe I just didn’t want you to label me as the fries guy.”

Wait—was that a joke? And why did he care what you thought about him?

God, I suck at whatever this is.

So you just forced a chuckle and took a sip of your water.

…

...

Shit.

Now there was that awkward silence you always dreaded in conversations.

Okay, okay, stay calm.

Should I say something? Should I offer him my fries?

You almost laughed. Hell no, that’d be so weird. Plus the quinoa part of his bowl didn’t even take up a third of the whole meal.

You wished Cara were here. She’d know exactly what to say and how to act. She went on dates all the time, made out with guys at parties just for fun, and could hold a normal fucking conversation with a guy she was interested in.

“So, you like… a real artist or something?” Rafe asked absentmindedly, breaking the unbearable silence. “Since you picked Art as an elective?”

You looked up, quickly swallowing the bite of fries in your mouth before giving him a nervous smile. “Yeah, I mean—no, I wouldn’t call myself a real artist, not like Da Vinci or such.” You let out an awkward laugh. “I just draw sometimes when I’m bored.”

Jesus Christ, did he have to look at you like that? His blue eyes were drilling into your entire existence.

Rafe nodded. “Digital or traditional?”

You blinked at him, stunned.

How the fuck did Frat Boy Rafe Cameron know the difference between digital and traditional art?

Your expression made him smirk. And as if he had read your thoughts, he said, “My little sister Wheezie draws random shit on her iPad all the time.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, figured it was a thing—”

“No, I mean—yes, totally,” you blurted, immediately turning red because you just cut him off. “Most people start with pencil and paper but drawing on a tablet or iPad is just as legit. Um… so, yeah … I do both, to answer your question.” You smiled awkwardly.

Help, he would’ve had a more entertaining conversation with a rock.

Rafe barely raised a brow, a lazy smile on his lips. “It’s cool that you draw. Guess I got lucky having you as my partner for this project.”

WHAT.

Okay, everything’s chill.

NO, NOTHING WAS CHILL.

Is he flirting with me??? Is he just being nice ??? WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS MEAN.

What were you even supposed to reply to that?

Hahaha, thanks, did you know I made our Sims get married in eighth grade? Topper was your best man by the way.

WHAT THE FUCK, NO, STOP.

Whatever, just say something. Anything.

“Thanks,” you mumbled with an embarrassed smile, eyes fixed on your fries and salad.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Rafe lean back, pushing his half-eaten bowl aside. He shrugged. “Only sucks for you. Art’s not really my thing.”

No shit.

Also, what was that supposed to mean? Was he fishing for a compliment? Like Aww, no, come on, I’m sure you’re great at it.

Holy shit. Was Rafe Cameron secretly a pick-me guy? Were all these years crushing on him wasted?

“Yeah, I figured. Most people just take art class thinking it’ll be an easy A”, you said before he could say more and give you the ick.

OH my god, take it back, take it back—

When you saw his expression, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back. He looked… surprised? Confused? Maybe a little offended…?

Then the tension in his face eased. His lips twitched slightly before curving into a lopsided grin, making him look unexpectedly boyish.

“Shit, yeah. Guess that makes me ‘most people’”, he said with such ease, it was like you hadn’t just called him out.

How the hell did he manage to turn all your miserable attempts at a normal conversation into something so smooth? If you were in his place, you would've already walked out and dropped art class.

Yo, Mr Smith, this chick you paired me up with, she’s got the social skills of a dead fish.

This was so frustrating. It wasn’t like you were socially incompetent—not really—but around him, your brain just seemed to completely shut down.

“That’s not what I meant,” you said, furrowing your brows, annoyed at your own nervousness.

“Nah, it’s true,” Rafe replied, shrugging. Then he looked at you, a teasing edge in his voice. “So, if your art grade tanks, you know who to blame.”

Okayyy, he was either trying to get on your good side or looking for a smooth way out of this project—and you weren’t sure which was worse.

You swallowed your last fry and gave a chuckle. I sound like a fake ass bitch. “I’m sure you'll manage. Art is not about drawing perfectly — it’s more about the ideas and how you approach them.”

Jesus, you sounded just like Mr. Smith.

Rafe’s lips twitched into a cocky smirk. “Alright, then I guess you’ll have to help me be more creative.”

...

HUH?

OKAY. I MEAN SURE.

Be for fucking real, did he even realize what his words did to you?

Of course, he did—he probably flirted with girls daily. Or was he just lucky to be born with full charisma stats?

Probably both.

God, this was so embarrassing. Your face probably screamed HI CAN YOU MARRY ME, and to him, you were just some random Kook girl he was stuck with for a boring art project.

Okay, wait no.

Now YOU sounded like a pick-me.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” you said, cheeks pink, before clearing your throat to change the subject. “Okay, so… maybe we should start brainstorming some ideas? Like a mind map or mood board or something?”

Rafe leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table, and you had to fight the urge to glance at his biceps which flexed slightly as he moved. “Mood board? You talking about Pinterest type shit?”

Okay, wow, Rafe was absolutely not the type of guy you thought he was. Did he know about this stuff from Wheezie? Or some friends-with-benefits girlie?

Um, no, Y/N, none of your business.

You gave him a quick nod. “Yeah, something like that. We can also just start by writing stuff down.”

Rafe shrugged in agreement. “Okay.”

Okay.

He looked at you expectantly.

Ugh, did he really expect YOU to be the one taking notes?

Well, crush or not, he was still just a guy, after all.

You reached for the iPad in your bag, grabbed the Apple Pencil, and opened the Notes app.

As you scribbled down today’s date and gave the note a title, Rafe leaned in even closer, glancing at your screen. “Is this the iPad you use for drawing?”

He was so close now, his woody-aquatic aftershave filling your nose, giving you a strange feeling in your chest … and a very special part in your lower body.

“Yeah,” you replied shortly.

“Show me something then.”

“No.”

HUH?

“No?” Rafe’s gaze flicked from the screen to your flushed face, his lips curling into a crooked grin. There was a cocky glimmer in his gaze.

Good heavens, up close his eyes looked even more beautiful. They were the kind of blue people wrote bad poetry about. To you, they were a pretty contradiction—cold in color, warm in the way they lingered on your own eyes.

Heart racing, you looked away and laughed nervously. “I mean… maybe we should focus on the project first, you know, time pressure and all.”

With an amused scoff, Rafe leaned back again, glancing at his phone (wow, rude) for a second before saying, “To the boring part then."

Somehow it felt like you'd scratched his ego.

Girl, how could you mess up this badly? He probably thought you were some pretentious nerd now.

“So… do you have any ideas?” You twirled the Apple Pencil in your fingers, just praying for this painfully long lunch break to end.

Rafe pressed his lips together, scratching his jaw. The glass of his Rolex reflected a spectrum of lights under the ceiling’s lights. “Uh… dunno. What’s the prompt again? A modern take on the Greek gods?”

“A reinterpretation,” you corrected — then realizing you sounded like a know-it-all, so you quickly added, “but yeah, a modern version could definitely count.”

He nodded absentmindedly, fingers drumming on the table. “Okay, so…", he gave a dry laugh and ran a hand over his face. "Shit, what a stupid prompt."

You chewed the inner part of your cheeks. Okay, he clearly had zero interest in spending his free period working on some elective class’ project with you.

But it had been his idea to meet during lunch, you reminded yourself.

Forcing a smile, you offered, “We can always do this later. We still have two weeks.”

Rafe raised a brow. “You got plans or something?”

Oh. Guess that didn’t go over well.

You shook your head. “No, but if you’re not feeling it—”

“I’m not,” he cut in, his fingers stopping their steady rhythm against the table. “But we’re already here, so.”

That didn’t sound very motivated.

“Yeah, I guess”, you said, cringing at the sudden bitterness in your tone.

By the shift in Rafe’s expression, he must have noticed but before he had a chance to comment on it, you quickly picked up on what he’d said earlier. “So, a modern version of Olympus sounds fun. Maybe we can make it about the gods’ roles in today’s society or something like that.”

Rafe eyed you quietly, his expression impossible to read. He then tilted his head, scratching his nose. “Yeah, I guess. Maybe Zeus as the CEO of Olympus Industries or some shit. He’s the big boss, right? And everyone else just kinda works for him.”

Your lips curled into a soft smile. A corporate structure? Why were you not surprised.

“What?” He looked genuinely confused.

You shook your head, cheeks heating up again. “Nothing, that’s… that’s good.”

He raised his brows, a challenging tone in his voice. “You think it’s crap.”

“No,” you replied quickly, then adopted a more serious expression. “Really, it’s a nice take. Maybe his wife — Hera I mean — could be his girl boss PR manager, always cleaning up his scandals?”

A grin tugged at his lips, and with that, the weird tension in the air seemed to fade. “Shit, isn’t she also his sister? Well, yeah, guess she’s gotta cover up his dozen affairs. That guy’s a huge player.”

Okay, real talk—where did he get all this information from? He really didn’t seem like the guy to be interested in greek mythology.

It was cute though.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “You seem to be an expert in this field.”

He scoffed amused, leaning back into his chair. His eyes mustered you with a strange mix of entertainment and irritation. “You think I'm a fuckboy or some shit?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. Huh? What did he mean—

…

Did he-- ... OH SHIT.

A revolting feeling spread in your stomach and your cheeks probably invented a new shade of red.

WHY ON EARTH HAD YOU PHRASED IT LIKE THAT?!

Some evil gods or spirits must be messing with you right now because there was no way this situation could get any more awkward.

Frantically, you shook your head. “What? I… oh my god, no. NO! I was referring to the Greek gods. Not… you don’t give off such vibes. I mean, it’s none of my business anyway.”

Hey, if there’s a sniper out there, please take me out.

In your mind, you already estimated the cost of moving to another country. Canada had pretty landscapes and New Zealand--

A laugh escaped his lips — cocky, yet carrying a certain warmth. It made your heart stop and race at the same time.

“Relax,” he said bemused, leaning forward with his arms crossed, biceps flexing again. “People have said worse things to my face.”

No, this didn’t sit right with you.

You shook your head again, daring to meet his eyes. “No, I’m serious, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just … surprised about your knowledge of Greek mythology.” You froze, realizing this also sounded stupid. “Not that I took you for clueless…” Shit. You sighed. “It was stupid of me to phrase it like that and I don’t want you to think I take you for a fuckboy. It’s a shitty term anyway.”

Your nerves were going crazy and you fidgeted with the case of your iPad, waiting for his response.

Rafe silently STARING at you didn’t help at all. He seemed … surprised, maybe a little perplexed even.

SAY SOMETHING PLEASE.

“Alright”, he finally said, his usual cocky expression returning to his face. He slightly shifted in his seat, avoiding your gaze for just a second but long enough for you to notice. “Guess I picked up a bit from Wheezie when she had to do a presentation for school or whatever. She couldn't shut up about it. Shit was annoying as hell.”

For a moment, you didn't know what to respond. Why wasn't he offended? Why didn't he mock you for being so awkward?

You smiled, trying to relax your nerves. “Sounds like we could use her little expert knowledge on this project.”

Rafe gave a low chuckle. “Well, I believe we’ve already got a little expert right here”, he said with a crooked smile, his eyes burning a hole into your soul.

Oh. My. God.

The teasing edge in his voice made your brain shut down. This had to count as flirting, right? RIGHT?!

You chuckled nervously, cheeks a deep shade of red, and placed the Apple Pencil back on the screen. “Then I hope whatever I picked up from reading Percy Jackson will be enough.“

That's it, Y/N, you are officially banned from doing any more jokes.

-----------------------------------------------

In English class, you could finally breathe again.

Your suffering was over.

During the rest of the lunch break, Rafe and you had talked about some more ideas. Gladly, you hadn’t embarrassed yourself any further (if that was even possible because you’d definitely reached your peak today).

At the end of lunch, Topper had picked him up and they’d left for their own English class. Your goodbyes had been a little awkward but you’d managed.

Right now, you were grateful they didn’t attend the same class as you because you certainly didn’t want to listen to them laughing about what a weird ass person you were.

Okay, just breathe. I did it, it’s over.

You tried to concentrate on whatever Mrs. Andrade was talking about but only half the students truly paid attention.

Afternoons in the Outer Banks truly were a cruel thing.

So you decided to check your phone:

Sighing quietly, you put your phone away and rubbed your temples. A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, yet at the same time, it felt so empty.

Maybe I'm lucky and tomorrow I’ll wake up to a big newsflash: This just came in, Kildare Academy was reduced to ashes by a sudden fire.

But when had you ever been lucky?

Your phone buzzed again but you really didn’t feel like talking and thinking about Rafe anymore.

This guy had thrown you off track in just an hour but in the best and worst way possible.

And even though every part of you wanted to run from the thought of seeing him again — the way that uncomfortable feeling in your chest wouldn’t let up — there was still a small part of you that found yourself oddly eager to see him again, work with him on that stupid little project and listen to his stupid little laugh.

Because somehow in just sixty minutes you’d learned more about Rafe Cameron than you had in nearly seven years at Kildare Academy.

For instance, he was a lot kinder than you’d expected. Not that you’d ever thought he was like a high school movie bully or some shit but his occasional soft smiles and the way he didn't mock you when you'd said some stupid shit had definitely surprised you.

Plus he seemed to care about his little sister which was such an attractive attribute (and the bare minimum let's be honest).

All of this was so strange.

It sounded stupid but Rafe Cameron had always been just a concept to you. A crush you enjoyed looking at and maybe making up your own little idea of (and some scenarios to fall asleep to be for real).

But now he was... real and—

Bzzrt.

Seriously, Cara had class too—and with Ms. Langford, no less. And unlike Mrs. Andrade, she wasn’t exactly chill.

You picked up your phone again, expecting some delusional text messages—but the moment you saw the notification on your lock screen, your heart stopped.

No fucking way.

NO. FUCKING. WAY.

Holding your breath, you unlocked your phone, and the second your eyes landed on the profile picture, your heart took off in a full sprint. You didn’t even register Mrs. Andrade calling your name.

Because by some strange twist of fate, Rafe Cameron had gotten your number and decided to text you—after what you were sure had been your ultimate humiliation today.

You didn’t know whether to grin, cheer, or jump out of your seat—shit, maybe all three—but instead, you just sat there, wondering if there really was a god of luck and if he’d just decided to bless you.

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kms masterlist | <- part one | part three (soon) ->

-----------------------------------------------

Taglist (open):

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee

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delusionsofgrandeur13 · 6 months ago

Text

CASUAL

…your friends call you a loser.

chapter one

NSFW. MINORS DNI.

tim drake x reader

series inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan

readers can expect: fem reader x tim drake. not explicit consent but both parties are willing participants. mention of panty stealing. penetrative sex, prone bone/doggy style. reader on birth control, tim finishes inside. hair pulling. mean-spirited dirty talk. marking kink if you squint. use of 'sweetheart.' no mention of reader finishing. tim is kind of an asshole. don't say i didn't warn you.

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you laugh at his joke, probably louder than you should’ve.

you feel lydia’s eyes on you as you raise the red cup you’re holding up to your lips.

you curse yourself silently. what were you even doing at yet another one of these dumb parties??

sure, it wasn’t being thrown by the snobbiest frat on campus, but it is at one of their family homes. you didn’t even know neighborhoods like this existed in gotham. the houses were ridiculously huge.

lydia was dating her guy now, making her a semi permanent fixture. she had him now, and didn’t really need you for emotional support.

so again, what the hell are you doing here?

the fabric of your dress is tight against your chest, and you squirm. you think your left nipple is starting to chafe. lydia looks at you expectantly.

“what?” you blink at her over the rim of your red cup, blink out of your train of thought.

“i asked if you’ve been seeing anyone lately.” your friend settles back into her boyfriend, leaning on him with his arm slung over her shoulders. her boyfriend, josh, is a calm drunk, bobbing his head to the beat of the music and staring off into the distance.

“it feels like this is the only place i’ll see him.” you mumble under your breath, waving a hand at lydia’s confused expression. “no, i’m not really seeing anyone right now.”

“well look around! you’re surrounded by future sugar daddies. take your pick.” she gestures, pointing at one guy across the room, raising her eyebrow. “him?”

you shake your head, curling a lip. “definitely not.”

“bummer.” lydia sighs.

“besides, don’t sugar daddies look for younger women? the guys here are all my age, so it’s pointle-” a hand slides around your hip, and your voice trails off. lydia’s eyes widen when she realizes who’s attached to the hand, the one curving around your lower waist to the front of your body.

an almost entirely inappropriate hand placement.

your heart thumps hard in your chest. maybe you’d question who it was if you couldn’t smell the soap his dry cleaner uses.

you can feel the warmth of his hip pressed into yours as he sidles up next to you. josh practically snaps to attention when he sees that his frat president has his hand around your waist.

“tim!” josh reaches his hand out to greet him. “didn’t even know you were here!”

tim takes his hand, the one not radiating heat into your hipbone, and shakes josh’s.

“that’s how i like it.” he punctuates his sentence with a squeeze of your waist, and it takes every ounce of composure you have to not react.

lydia’s gaze keeps dragging between tim’s hand placement, your face, and tim, just over, and over, and over again. you chew on the inside of your lip.

you know how it looks.

“so you’re ‘not seeing anybody?’ well i can see the frat president with his hands on you!!”

tim and josh finish a conversation about some frat-related event coming up, one that you were not paying attention to. while they were talking it felt like every nerve in your body had rewired itself to where his hand was sitting on your hip.

josh steers lydia away, over to the kitchen, full of stainless steel appliances and an island covered in bottles.

you can feel her keep glancing back at you, but you can’t meet her eyes.

you can’t.

you catch a snippet of the sentence she whispers into her boyfriend’s ear. “..such a loser.”

your palms start sweating. she throws you another look before josh pulls her back around, kissing her forehead.

tim nudges you towards him, and you look at him. except you’re about eye level with his chest. his shirt is a deep blue, almost black. it’s starting to become your favorite color. his dark jeans sit low, covering the top of his shoes.

he chuckles under his breath, and sticks a finger under your chin, pulling your face up so you can look at his. he looks down at you through half-lids, his blue eyes sharp and gleaming. your heart pounds in your ears, in between your legs.

he doesn’t ask you anything, doesn’t need to, but you’re nodding anyways. he smiles that cheshire cat smile at you, and a chill runs up your spine.

he grabs your hand and pulls you along with him, over to the grand staircase.

eric, drunk as ever, nods approvingly at tim. he pats tim’s shoulder as the two of you walk past. the guy next to eric whoops, laughing. his eyes run up and down your body. you wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. instead, you plaster a smile on and wink, hurrying after tim.

the two of you make it up the wood paneled staircase, the walls of the hallway covered in pristine family photos. you shudder at the pictured family’s matching stares and smiles. tim squeezes your hand, coming up to a set of double doors. he flashes you a smile, and your heart melts a little.

tim lets go of your hand to open the double doors, revealing a huge room, and a four poster bed, draped with fabric, centered in the middle.

his eyes are full of that hard glint, a look you’ve become all too familiar with. he shuts the doors behind you, locking them.

walking over to the bed, he sits on the edge of it, looking you over with his head tilted to the side.

“wait, drake, is this the master bedroom?” you ask, turning around to see the whole room. there’s even an en suite bathroom.

rich, rich, rich.

“yeah.” tim reclines farther back onto the bed, leaning on his elbows.

you say nothing, awkwardly shuffling your feet.

“..and?” tim prompts you. he raises a hand to bat at the fabric overhead, catlike as ever.

“isn’t that like, a little disrespectful?” you run a hand through your hair, nervous.

tim raises an eyebrow at you, and flops back onto the bed. his arms are behind his head, making his biceps bulge. a strand of hair falls into his eyes. your heart ba-bumps in your chest. his angular eyebrows scrunch together. he looks actually, genuinely confused.

“to who?” he scoffs. “they should be so lucky.”

at that, you bite your tongue. (with great difficulty.)

you choose to look him up and down instead, noting his smug smile. the hardness of his eyes. it feels like you're under a spotlight, the front row full of critics. heat creeps up your neck.

"is it hot in here?" you lift your hair into a makeshift ponytail, noting the way tim sits up. his eyes tracking your movements, the way your fist curls around your hair, lifting the sweaty strands off of your neck.

"so take your clothes off. might cool you down a bit." he smirks, the hardness back in his eyes.

"real original, drake." you shoot back.

he shrugs, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"you'd heat right back up, though. so i can't say it's the best long term solution."

he unlaces a shoe, kicking it off, its twin following in quick succession. he looks at you pointedly, an eyebrow raised. you realize you’re as still as a statue, and staring, so you also begin to undress, toeing off your shoes and leaving them up against the end of the bed. it’s almost comical, your shoes, neat and upright, next to his, haphazardly thrown about, one on its side and the other just fully upside down.

his shirt is next, tim easily pulling it up over his head and tossing it to one side of the room. his abs ripple as he leans back, the stretch revealing a sharp v-line poking out of his boxers.

preening under your gaze, he leers right back, his lips curled up as he flexes his biceps.

“like what you see?” he huffs out a laugh at your sheepish expression.

you shake your head, silent as you turn away from him. his fingers quickly find the zipper of your dress, and soon that hits the floor too.

the expensive denim of his jeans scrapes your inner thigh as he ruts against you. a line of hickeys trace the curve of your neck. his mouth on you felt like heaven, warm and wet as he made his way from your jawline to your collarbone.

proof of his open-mouthed kisses, dark red and glaringly obvious.

a problem for future you. morning you. rational you, who will not enjoy the struggle of covering them up.

tim snaps the band of your underwear.

you’re brought back into the moment, lifting your hips off of the bed as he slides them down your legs. he tucks them into his jean pocket, giving you a look that almost dares you to protest. you don’t. they join the growing list of your things tim’s taken. a hair tie, a necklace, two other pairs of underwear.

his lips are on you again, rough and passionate. you moan into his mouth from the feeling of his denim-clad bulge hitting your bare clit. tim wears a smug smile on his lips as he kisses you next, and you hook your legs around his hips in retaliation. your hands run up and down the smooth expanse of his back, the light scratch of your nails making him shiver.

“control, right?” tim says, his eyes hungry as you unbutton his jeans.

“..what?” you shake your head, confused.

“you’re on birth control, right?”

you internally roll your eyes. it makes sense that he’d be so thorough, being an heir, and famous, or whatever, but he asks you every single time. like your answer was gonna change any time soon.

“yes, timothy.” you draw out your words, feeling petulant.

he raises an eyebrow at this, tugging on a strand of your hair.

“uh-huh.”

his hips snap into the soft flesh of your ass again, sending a spark of pleasure up your spine. you’re facedown on the bed, tim holding himself up over you, your hips raised up just enough for him to thrust into you. one of his hands curls into your hair, yanking at it.

“tim, i-”

his pace picks up, unrelenting.

“what was that, sweetheart? have something to say?”

you moan in reply as he holds the rhythm he’s established, his fingers gripping at your hair, pulling.

“you usually have so much to say, y/n.” you can hear the smirk in his voice.

his taunting dies down as he gets closer, one hand gripping your ass so hard it’ll probably leave bruises. the other uses your hair to pull you closer to him, giving you a messy kiss. he sucks in a breath just to let it back out through gritted teeth, groaning deep in his throat. he puts you against the bed again, the hand that was in your hair now pressing down on your lower back. his last few thrusts are sloppy, quick, and you’re clenching around his cock at the speed, your hands clutching at the sheets.

“mm, fuck, that feels so good,” tim finishes with a low moan, warmth filling your insides in someone else’s four poster bed.

the praise makes something in your chest start fluttering around, and you turn over to look at him once he’s pulled out. he's sat up, on his knees. his thigh muscles are on display, sending more flurries of desire through your body. the veins in his hands are in hard relief as he fists his cock, milking out every last drop. his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, a few raven locks sticking to his forehead.

he's dressed before you know it, tossing your dress up on the bed for you absentmindedly. tim looks over at you, and he's back over you in a flash. he gives you one last quick kiss, pinching your nipple.

"i'll text you."

with that, he's gone. it'd be like he was never here if there weren't hickeys covering your neck and his cum wasn't between your legs.

you dress quickly, tottering over to the bathroom. you look in the mirror, assessing. you use your hands to tame your hair back down. your eye makeup is smudged. and you don't have your underwear. you better get home quick if you don't want his cum dripping down your legs at this frat party.

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tim drake wayne's fan club:

(and THE most patient people on earth. i love you. thanks for waiting.)

(taglist:)

@dfgcbgdc @benditlikegumby93 @agent-nobody-knows @jaybunsblog @astermos-74 @ravenna-reid @borutoistrash1-blog @slut4animedilfs @nuggget-consumer-9000 @turtleturtleturtleturtleneck @hellishattempt @trashhighwaybird @sergeant-angels-trashcan @lilithskywalker @timdrakeisasugardaddy

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vampiretendencies · 2 years ago

Text

throw another stone at a glass house

request/summary; your writing literally gives me life. love it sm <3 would you be able to do something where jj and the reader get into an argument at dinner but they have a rule to never go to sleep mad at each other?

pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader

warnings; fluff & angst, maybe a bit suggestive

authors note; love loved writing this anon :,) pls continue to send in requests ! gif creds to owner

His cured blood was boiling— searing even.

Eatery being complacent, fairy bulbs roped neatly and whimsically throughout the establishment. Fake plastic plant leaves braided about the paneled open roof. The trimming on the tables simplistic and clothed white, any other vibrancy would clash with the modern elegance that was being established. Clammer from steel trays and the mouthy Kooks that JJ was rubbing elbows with.

His attire is classy to fit his false image— dapper wrinkle-free black button up: buttons done up until the narrowing of his chest, not too revealing, not too Pogue-like. Arms broad and fibrous, giving quite the show whilst they bulged and unbulged with every movement he made. Grey slacks, steamed specifically for this event, an absolute fool as to not recognizing himself cleaned up so pleasantly.

The amount of meals he missed simply for this one meal, to scrimp and scrape pennies together merely to see a joyous picture-perfect smile planted on your face.

And he hadn’t told you he was doing so, but for about around a month now he’s been saying ‘Got a special night for us in the works baby.’

You knew it was tonight and you knew the address.

It wasn’t a familiar one, no, the both of you, Pogues, and not having heard of such a lavish restaurant. Hell, JJ was even awestruck himself when he stepped foot in the door.

But to him it was showing you a glimpse into the future with him. The life he would scavenge to define, to escape the one he’s living in now.

Full Kook.

But, nevertheless a Pogue at heart.

With that being said, he cannot fathom as to why you wouldn’t be here.

As to why you wouldn’t be here basking in the night, with him.

As to what could possibly be any more revelation, right here.

“Sir, are you ready to order yet?”

The same lanky waiter, with a nasal like voice spoke— and the irritation of it made JJ’s skin crawl. His class bow tie, with upheld posture was something JJ cut his eyes at, interrupting his thoughts as he already done prior.

“I told you no the past three times, didn’t I?”

JJ bit back at the man, partially because he’d been to JJ’s table all those times within the span of twenty minutes, not to mention prior to when he’d arrived two hours ago. The waiters mouth turns up in disgust.

“M’waitin’ for my girl, alright?”

He proceeds to add, confirming again to not come back unless he proclaimed he was ready. A kind way of saying ‘fuck off’.

“We cannot continue to keep holding your table this long, there are other people waiting to eat.”

“I’ll call her.”

The waiter clicks his tongue, spinning on his heels to the rest of his section to serve. And JJ presses your contact in his phone, as he did thirty six calls ago— to be exact.

Pitiful, going straight to voice mail, beating organ falling straight to his half-cut boot clad feet.

Pissed, seeing to it that he should be. All this money, all this devotion, only for it to go to waste due to you not being on time?

JJ would give his soul away not feel this.

On the verge of flipping over this table and making a scene just for shits and giggles, or to cope.

The reason you were late was anonymous to him. A slumber took over you, sleeping in later than usual after work, exhausted in that shared apartment. Forgetting to charge your phone, all events that pushed you farther and farther behind. Remnants leaving you pressed to get ready for the event, all whilst having to catch a ride from Kie.

One would probably wonder why JJ simply didn’t wait for you to get ready and just drive you to the surprise himself. He was too adamant, prying on the idea that, even appearance would be a remembrance factor.

Small heels colliding with cement in a clack sound, digits on the iron knob studying the building once more, to assure yourself this location was right.

Pulled straight out of a dream.

And you prodded on the thought of JJ affording this, the effort that went into it. Wondering why he thought he had to spend so much just on you, yet impressed with your boyfriend— if only you knew the sheer devastation upon him.

The red lacey satin of your dress was enough to turn heads and you did just that, strutting whimsically to the front podium to be sat at the table with JJ. Every Kook eye studied you, but you spotted one head of hair in particular. Sat in a dainty wooden chair that caused his back to be turned to you.

Numerous round tables, purely yearning for just that one.

That one with the unearthly being; light locks dancing over his features, and a jawline fierce enough to cut paper.

The one that’s battling with himself as to wether or not to make a big deal out of this, the moment he saw you next.

Little did he know you were feet away, gawking at him and the entirely ethereal gesture he did for you.

Jesus, he looks so fucking hot.

Dapper.

Heat growing on his neck whilst he feels a shadow standing over him, he continues to play with the given metal utensils in front of him.

Perhaps the knife grazing past his fingertips, would pain much less than the ache of disappointment surging in him.

He almost, turns to face the shadow preparing to tell the waiter off. But as his sense receptors fill with that familiar warm vanilla scent ...

He doesn't.

He doesn't because he knows it's you.

And he's gathering himself for the argument that's about to ensue.

Did JJ want to fuss and fight with you?

Absolutely not, he avoids confrontation at any given moment.

However, he is also human and can only take so much.

Your graceful hand stretches over his flexed back, tensing up at a touch that would normally lull him away into no tomorrow. Blue orbs daggering into your figure overtop his eyelashes, clearing his throat at your presence. Your chair scratched along the patterned wooden floor, a notion JJ always does; pulling your chair out.

This time, you do it with no complaints; declaring to avoid the subject at hand. Acknowledging that you were in deep shit with your lover.

That exact lover teaching you so: deny, deny, deny.

And God, that dress is hugging you so tight his hairs stand up on his neck. Alluring and sensual.

If he wasn't so fucking livid, he'd rile himself up enough to temper delicate, mouth-biting, love marks to your neck.

Over

And over

Again.

Until he got his fill.

You're supposed to be mad at her, JJ thought to himself.

"Hi, J!"

His insides rumbled as if he ate sour food.

But, no food would be eaten tonight.

"Hey."

His tone laced with malice and defeat. The worse kind of greeting, not the usual 'baby' or 'pretty girl' attached to it.

Then you knew were in for it.

"Thank you for tonight, s'so pretty baby."

Reading you, he knew you were probably thinking how he managed to get a table here. But something this polite, it was uncalled for to ask such a question.

"Yeah, it was prettier earlier."

He muttered under his breath, with his face contorting into a frown. Across the table yet so far away, the bright light of the eatery highlighting his cheek bones so handsomely. And you longed for him to be, himself.

"What'd you say?"

His words unclear, he was someone that usually has a voice prominent enough to hear from miles away; so it couldn't have been anything loving.

"Nothin'."

Accent think and harsh, eye contact here and there, though it wasn't anything promising.

"Gonna' have to fix your face J, it might ruin the night."

You gasped out a laugh, but to JJ it wasn't fucking funny.

If he wanted to glower, then he'd do so and he meant it.

How dare you joke about something he busted his ass to do, money that could've been enough to pay the apartments rent that month.

He thought you were being ungrateful and that you didn't appreciate him.

First you were behind time, and now you're laughing in his damn face beating around the obvious bush that was weighing him down.

And he can't help himself.

"No ... you ruined the Goddamn night!" He spat, voice broad and demanding, through grit teeth. Knowing that if he spoke any louder the couple would be asked to leave.

He's disgusted with you for being so careless with his feelings.

A night that was supposed to be filled with desperate, needy touches, and bellies full of the finest food; JJ could find it coming to a halt.

You grew ansty in your seat at his remark, lungs missing air and guilt replaced it.

Remorse entering your features.

Falling apart at the cause of his disfunction being you.

"I didn't mean to, JJ."

You reach for his hand across the table, veins apparent and digits long; in effort to console him for your mishap of being extremely late. And he lets you interlock your finger with his upsettingly, though he waited for that same touch all night; unable to deny any touch from you.

To get his point across, he lets go.

"But, you did."

He corrected you with a tilt of his head, replacing your missing fingers with a comb through his hair.

"I-I overslept after work ... and-"

"That's such bullshit. Do you know how many long hours I worked for tonight? Just for you to not be here?"

The palm of his hand slams against the table, drawing the attention of the couple next to the two. You hurriedly shush him, bringing his anger back down to earth.

"M'trying to say sorry JJ."

Both sets of eyes glare at eachother as if in competition, and JJ's stomach whirls.

"I don't want a sorry, I wanted you to be here."

"Well ... well, I'm here now. We can still order, J."

You try again but ultimately fail.

"M'not sitting here with you and pretending like everything's 'dandy', when you fucked everything up."

His words were cold and emotionless. You search for everything to say, but all that JJ said clarified it for you. Your sullen heart thumped, salty tears brimming at corners of your eyes.

Making you feel small.

Fighting to prevent them, so you didn’t fall apart in the middle of this restaurant.

“C’mon, let’s go.”

He wasn’t cruel, not enough away, to leave you here with no way back to the shared home.

No matter how big the fight or the cause of it, it always left JJ wondering if you still besotted him the way he did you.

He wondered why, altogether going with the fact that nothing was ever permanent in his life,

Did you still crave him— on your lips, in your lungs, and beneath your skin?

One way to describe the ride home was— sickeningly tense.

Amid his rage, his hand clutches the wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white. Stealing glances at you, hoping you didn’t hate him. Neither of them able to etch a sentence, whilst the radio played and you sat turned with your knees to the door staring out of the window.

Oddly close enough to your position now.

On the edge of your side of the bed. Admiring JJ peel off his pants and unbutton his shirt, leaving them aimlessly on the carpeted floor— stripped down to his only boxers.

You’d thought you wouldn’t get much comfort tonight, being that he avoided even still after arriving home. Mustering a ‘gonna’ pick up the kitchen’, knowing full well it was only to an excuse to not be up under you while you both were overstimulated and on edge. Leaving you to get the bed ready and practice your night time routine. That’s why you are in the pajama attire of JJ’s t-shirt, his musk still attached to it.

His flesh on fire, conscious that you were boring at him.

‘When you fucked everything up,’ stung your chest and tainted your mind.

Reflecting, he’d wished he would’ve cut you some slack.

His baby, that he hoped for on nights when he had no one.

He baby, that he hoped for on every shooting star.

His baby, that he hoped for in a crowd of people.

His baby.

There was this rule book.

This rule book, was true and real, and contained all the expectations you and JJ had for eachother being together. It was for numerous reasons to begin with, but a year passed by and another and they fully became implicated.

The rule book was a thin black note book, adorned with two red pairs of lips. One was yours, and one was JJ’s— having put red lipstick on his puckered lips, afterwards staining your entire face with them.

Painting your face with his desire for you.

And still that notebook remains framed in the living room, just above the TV.

Rule #1: Never go to sleep mad at eachother.

It was in big, chunky black letters— JJ wrote it and with every letter he wrote he meant it more. One would think cheating would be at the top of the list— but that wasn’t a worry.

It wasn’t a concern because if JJ could inject you into his veins he would do just that.

And so would you.

Opening up his heart to you was not a thing he’d ever regret doing.

Letting himself become infatuated with you, and letting you treat him the way he deserved to be.

You’d silently prayed that JJ would enforce the rule tonight, seeing as even though you did fuck up, you had reason to be irate as well.

His feet pad against the khaki carpet to switch off the bedroom lights. Miscellaneous TV show, playing whilst it illuminated his appearance. He made a b-line for his side of the bed, queen size engulfing him. And you did the same, twisting to lie in bed next to him, but not right beside him.

Lying the exact same— backs flat against the black silk sheets, duvet pulled up past either arms. Pairs of eyes darting at the the other. Except JJ’s left arm is behind his head, the muscle fissuring with ease as it grooved forward from the small glance you got. His right arm is the one closest to you, flat in the open space between the two.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know how to lay.

He is so use to having skin on skin contact, but now he’s lying alone and deprived of your touch.

And you would initiate but you quiver at being denied again.

“Y’know you can’t go to sleep yet.”

His raspiness booms and echoes off the walls, causing you to jump in the slightest. Still continuing to look forward at the cinema before him, you bore into him with furrowed eyebrows— head turning on the firm pillow.

“How come?”

His insides fluttered at your melodic and rhythmically put together voice.

He’s still scolding to the touch, but realizing his tad of unreasonableness consumes him. Turning to his side, he faces you, an everlasting lump in his throat.

“Rule number one-“

“Never go to bed mad at eachother.”

You finish his sentence, and his mouth is partially open. Heartbeat becoming deathly, hands clammy at him bringing the rule book up. He remembered.

He remembered it all.

“So can we stop being mad?”

He pleads, voice cracking in the slightest.

Giving himself to you in every way possible.

Vulnerability only amendable when he’s near you.

Enchanted and explicitly, letting you suck his soul in.

And he didn’t care.

“I was never mad at you J, you were mad at me.”

Solely, truthful acknowledging that you couldn’t be viled at him chewing you out at dinner. Feeling like you deserved every bit of it.

“I s-shouldnt have said that, baby m’sorry.”

His lone hand encapsules your shoulder, the pet name leaving his mouth smoothly, a part of his everyday vocabulary. You crane your neck to place small pecks to each one of his knuckles, showing each one more attention than the last.

“S’okay, I get it J.”

“Just wanted us to have tonight, for us.”

“I ruined it, I know-“

“Nothing’s ruined … we still have us.”

His head lowers, lips puckering in the faintest way. Softly pressing with yours, all whilst enveloping you closer into his frame. An embrace his sore body hungered for. Tongue delving into your mouth, molding together like puzzle pieces. Angrily kissing to make up for the love lost today, he hummed at the comforting sensation.

“And m’not letting go of that, baby.”

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the-100-days-of-junkan · 2 months ago

Text

Day 90

Alright. So you might be thinking, pondering, desperately contemplating to yourself a simple question.

“JEM. WHAT THE FUCK??? WHY????” And I hear you, I get it, it’s a lot to take in out of nowhere and that’s the point. Sit with me, peer into the biohazard that is in my brain as I explain to you why in the name of all that’s good I made a fucking Music Video.

So last time on the 100 Days of Junkan, for Day 80 I got very silly and animated a gif of Junko and Mikan kissing. And as I keep saying over and over again, every 10 pics I wanted to go BIGGER. And maybe this is just the brainrot causing all of my mental functions to degrade past the point of no return, but the only way up at this point was in fact a music video.

But surely I couldn’t. I mean, I only have that single gif as experience with animation! How the fuck could I try and put myself through a process that I have absolutely no experience making something as ambitious as a Music Video! I’ll have to do something else. But then.

I had a thought, a small thought, an evil little thought that wormed its way into my head and didn’t leave.

“Okay. But wouldn’t it be really funny if you sent a full Junkan music video to Val without any warning?” That was it. I was beaten, I couldn’t counter that. The sheer comedic shock value of keeping my wonderful oomfie, the one who has helped motivate me through this entire project, who has given amazing responses to all of these pics as I made them, completely in the dark over this, and then finally with no context, or warning, or even a hint, dropping a fucking music video on her lap and running away like I’m pranking someones god damn doorbell. It was too much, even moreso considering I could do the same with ya’ll!

You! My varied followers, the silent and the vocal, or even better the random fucking people who have been staring in confusion as the Junko and Mikan tag got flooded with art of these two kissing out of nowhere for like three fucking months. I had an opportunity to send everyone into surprise and confusion because why the fuck did I make a god damn music video??? How??? It was too fucking funny to pass up!

This is easily the most fucking bizarre thing I’ve done for the entire event! Did any of you think this was the path this would go down?? Did any of ya’ll see that I made a gif and think “Surely this scrawny white bitch also made a Music Video.” I doubt it! But if you did, my undying respect goes to you!

So here we are. A Music Video. A fucking Music Video, one which I now have to talk about. It took a full fucking page just to get to the point where I actually talk about it and this took me THREE MONTHS TO MAKE, spanning from May 8th to August 1st!

So here’s what I’m gonna do. First, I’m gonna talk about MAKING this fucking thing, and then when I finish that I’m going to switch over to talking about the actual contents of the music video. This is going to get really messy and will probably go into tangents, but ya’ll have hopefully coped with the knowledge that this is going to be a lot of words by the time you hit the end of this sentence. (Future Jem here! I think this was actually shorter than Day 60) So without further delay-

The Making of Snow Fairy, a Junkan Music Video. Yes. Really.

So the first step of this was obviously, The Music. What song would I use for this? Well initially the plan was to animate something using the song “Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed.” And if that name sounds familiar, yes, it is the song that Val’s fic was named after. Now the idea wasn’t to adapt her fanfic into a music video (or at least it wasn’t the idea for more than 5 minutes). I was simply going to use this song to make a music video depicting a romantic journey with these two. So why not this song?

IT’S LIKE 6 FUCKING MINUTES. Not to jump ahead of myself here but I can’t make it any clearer for ya’ll, that Gif from Day 80??? That was it. That was all I had going into this. I didn’t do any other practice, I didn’t make anything else like that gif. I made that gif, took like two weeks to make Days 81-89, and jumped into a music video. And yes, that’s fucking stupid, but you’ve all learned by this point that I don’t make sensible choices. I draw women kissing, scream, and feel endless euphoria- I got so off topic already, sorry.

Anyway that’s a 6 minute song and I had very little experience, even I knew that wasn’t gonna be viable without driving my head into the wall from stress. And while the idea of me dialing it back sounds unheard of given my track record, I did in fact scale back massively.

So I pondered, and eventually came to a quite frankly obvious answer.

youtube

(Sorry I could only find an AI Upscaled version with interpolation)

Snow Fairy, the first opening of Fairy Tail, AKA, my favorite piece of fiction. And Snow Fairy is my favorite anime opening of all time, if not just straight up my favorite song ever. The fact that it wasn’t my first thought is a shock. Though that still brought on some questions.

Firstly. What version? Because yes I actually had options. I could either use the original song in Japanese, or the english cover by LeeandLie. I was close to picking the original version by Funkfist, but there was two issues. One, because it was in another language that means I would have had to taken the time to put in subtitles and keep them properly timed, which would have just been one more thing on an already massive workload. The second reason is also why I went with LeeandLie’s version, I just like the translation for the lyrics a bit more. At least in terms of how well I think it works for a Junkan Music Video. So we had the cover of the song I was gonna use, next question.

Full Song? Or the intro edit? Because the version used in the anime is obviously much shorter, and not just that actually includes the very end of the song pasted to a much earlier part of it. So if I wanted to use the shorter version I would have needed to actively edited the song.

After much thought I chose to ask my friend (and now current girlfriend) Yves to edit the song to match the intro version of Funkfists cover and worked from there. Because even if I would have loved to use the full song, that’s around 3 minutes, which for essentially a beginner sounds like fucking torture.

So I had a song around 1 minute and 28 seconds to work with. Much easier- WRONG. WRONG IT WAS STILL PAINFUL. WHY DID I DO THIS- Anyway.

We had our song! Now we had to make the actual video!

Step 1, I actually made a Storyboard, this is the smartest thing I will do during this entire process.

As you can see from this lil joke doodle I made during the process, I didn’t even start the actual video before I had realized I had made a massive mistake, however I was of course going to persevere. The Storyboard took about, 2? 3 days? This is mostly because I had other work to prioritize, and I had to make sure I got this pretty solid. Here it is!

(The file name for this has the phrase "Why god Why" btw)

As you can see it’s very, very professional.

You can also see there were a few things cut or changed, and even stuff that wasn’t there in the first place. That’s because even if I was going into this with more of a plan compared to other parts of this, I still really had no idea what I was getting into nor how to do it. The scene of all the girls doing their hair was cut because it just seemed like an awkward space filler to try and mimic the actual Snow Fairy Intro animation. In hindsight I do wish I kept it or found a replacement rather than just extending the following scene. And yeah that scene had to be super extended so I could actually time things properly.

As for the scene at the end, the various art pieces flashing in the background (which I will talk about later) were done because I realized without them I had way too much dead air in the scene. I then took advantage of it to show a montage of time passing in the scene itself, of the things that differed from the storyboard that’s the one I’m happiest with.

Storyboard has passed so now I have to talk about making the video itself, i feel like i’ve said some variation of that sentence like 5 times now.

So do you want a fun fact? THIS WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE ANIMATED! This was supposed to be an Animatic, and even that might not be the right word. This was supposed to be basically a storyboard with hints of motion, say for the intro with Monokuma which I always planned to properly animate given his simplistic design. Everything else was supposed to be much simpler.

And then I kept. Accidentally. TRYING TO ANIMATE IT. I DON’T KNOW HOW YOU EVEN DO THAT BY ACCIDENT! And like sure, none of it really gets as meticulous as the Monokuma, but I still ended up learning way more about animating things properly during this project because I just couldn’t help myself. It was always “Well just one more frame to make it look right. One more frame. Okay just another- Oh no.” This is the depths of hell this ship has dragged me to, and even if I haven’t had a chance to fully make use of what I learned here because I’ve been busy, Junkan somehow made me into a fucking animatory at least to the degree of a hobbyist. IF YOU TOLD ME THAT A FEW YEARS AGO I’D THINK YOU WERE LYING! Because if you asked me before this year about my opinion on animating, I’d tell you something around the lines of-

“God I wish I could, but I just don’t have the patience for that y’know?” I GUESS THAT DOESN’T MATTER WHEN IT'S A NICHE SHIP?? Mind you this was still when I was under the impression I was going to get backlash for all this, I didn’t care but I certainly thought it would come to me. The hold these two have on my brain is downright COMICAL.

And I’m sorry if I sound like this is me complaining at all, because I’m really not, I just get more excitable and whacked out during these more high effort projects. This ship has brought me immense joy on its own, and making this project despite the exhaustive work it took to do so has been so fulfilling in part thanks to being able to see the joy my work has brought all of you. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.

But you gotta fucking admit, this isn’t fucking normal right?? None of this is normal! And I don’t mean that in a “We’re all weirdos for liking this” kind of way I mean that in a “What the fuck is going on with me specifically” kind of thing because what is ANY of this?? I re-learned how to write (loosely at least), learned how to actually paint in my program, have developed a deeper understanding of both myself and how to portray expressions, have just generally gotten better at drawing cause of this, memorized these fucking designs almost perfectly (almost, i know there’s some small details of Junko’s design i leave out and Mikan’s apron can be a challenge at times), learned how to animate, LEARNED HOW TO MAKE A MUSIC VIDEO ON ONE GIF OF EXPERIENCE, made angsty shipping art for the first time, and god fucking KNOWS what else that I’m forgetting. And that’s ignoring that by this point we’re edging so much closer to me being able to say “I’ve drawn Junkan 200 fucking times” any god damn day now.

If this isn’t abnormal human being behaviour, it at the very least has to be really fuckin funny behaviour, right?? Am I just overthinking this??

Oh god, right, the main topic. Sorry about that it’s just been eating away at me the sheer absurdity of this project when I really step back and think about it.

Anyway making the vid, I did have a LOT of help from my girlfriend @sunmellows, who actually does have animation experience. She’s more versed in using sprites to animate, but a lot of the techniques could be carried over to what I was doing here. That segment of Mikan and Mukuro running along past a bunch of characters? She helped me so much to get the walk cycles perfect for that.

She also helped me make sure I could actually show this fucking video to people, because fun fact. I made this on an absolute piece of shit laptop! And at first it was relatively fine when I exported projects. But when I got to the point of being actually close to completion? Oh my god not only did it take hours, it just didn’t even work. It would basically KILL my laptops performance to the absolute limit until I would eventually have to force restart the thing. Which thank god didnt’ corrupt the fucking file. So when it came to the final export, I handed off the file to her and she graciously exported it out of clip studio, and then made some minor edits to the timing of the animation in a video editing program.

This is also why, much to my constant irritation, there are still a few animation errors in this because if I fixed them, I’d have to re-export the entire video. And sure, my current laptop is 10 times better and might not try to invent a new form of agony trying to manage it, but also i’m not waiting like 2 or 3 hours for that to happen. No matter how painful it makes rewatching this video. Cause i don’t actually like rewatching this one usually, I’m very proud of it but as I’ve said in the past I am a vicious perfectionist when it comes to my work, so its hard for me to ignore every issue and oddity in the video.

I was fucking losing it by the end of this, I was pulling late nighters for like a week while trying to work on the last few scenes and fix up whatever I could, which was hard because I lacked a convenient way to just watch the whole video in good quality and speed, since playing it in my art program resulted in constant stuttering and made it impossible to tell if it would really look like that, and again, trying to export it made my laptop hate me. But on August 1st I finished it, I had to stay up till 6 AM to do it but I did in fact, fucking do it. I passed it off to Yves, she exported it after some technical difficulties, and now we’re here.

It was, wild, trying to keep this a secret. And i’m not just talking the 3 months I had to keep it quiet to Val (Though that was difficult but VERY worth it yes), but also keeping it secret up till this point. I don’t even know how many fucking months I’ve had to keep this quiet so none of you would find out about it, I’ve been anxiously waiting to see everyone's reactions to this fucking video, and at the time of writing we’re on like, Day 76. I still have so much more time I need to wait! I’m probably gonna be a nervous wreck the day this actually goes up!

Would I ever do this again? God I fucking hope not! (the answer is yeah someday)

I should actually talk about what’s IN the music video now, shouldn’t I? Will be mildly difficult because that’s probably gonna require a lot of rewatching, and as I already said looking at this music video does make my perfectionist brain scratch bad a bit.

Okay so Monokuma.

So originally the plan for this was for the vid to be a much closer 1-to-1 of the actual opening version of Snow Fairy, and while it did eventually evolve into more of its own thing (both functioning as its own slightly more unique intro for Junkan but also just becoming a more normal music video) the one thing that i always wanted for this was to recreate the first few seconds of the intro but with Monokuma. When this was meant to be significantly less like, animation-y, he was gonna be the only part I went fully into.

It was a real pain in the ass but this guy was basically my crash course on properly animating thanks in part to his simple design. He’s also brought much laughter to my girlfriend! On discord i have this part of the vid saved as a gif, and completely divorced from the context of the music vid it just looks like a silly as gif of Monokuma flying away. Like where the fuck are you going dude??

For the remainder of the first bit I wanted to include Hope’s Peak and Jabberwock island since they’re the most iconic locations in the series, granted, jabberwock feels very irrelevant in a non-despair AU but shhhh. The LOGO! I wish I had the actual thing in my files but I guess I just never thought to save it as it’s own thing. And I’m too scared to open the actual file for the music video to just copy paste it out of there because fun fact, the whole thing is ALL one file. Tip from the Ametuer here, don’t fucking do that.

I’m still really happy that I managed to find the actual font for the Fairy Tail logo to make this with, equally happy that I also managed to sneak in one more reference to Val’s work again! It is once again the tattoo design, because I just can’t help myself y’know?

After that we hit me actually doing this and for a brief moment you get to see it actually be about as slide-showy as I had initially planned on before I decided I was gonna learn how to do a proper run cycle and that took like two fucking days i think. Very proud of it though, Mikan and Mukuro’s little runs were very fun to animate and I like the stupid ass slide I made Mukuro do. I actually wanted to make a stupid animation of her rail grinding using those frames, clearly I didn’t.

Oh also yeah this style was reused for the cover of the Day 60 Comic, partially because I wanted to retroactively sprinkle bits of this animatic into whatever prior posts I can, partially because i really could not think of an actual cover for that comic.

So since I was trying desperately to make this seem like the opening to some kind of Junkan Series (and again that concept for the vid dies out real quick) I decided to just include as many other characters as possible during these running scenes. Not only because it would be very fun to draw some of them in this fucked up chibi style I started doing on the fly, but also because then I could insert like three whole ships that I like. We got the Ruruseiko, the Tokomaru, the Ikuzonobuki because hey someone had too.

Fun fact there was supposed to be a little pop up of Mukuro with heart eyes in the corner when Sayaka and Ibuki showed up, but I either scrapped cause I couldn’t make it look right with the limited frames I had, or I accidentally hid all of its layers and couldn’t find it. I can’t remember, this project turning out as well as it did is quite frankly a miracle.

The train scene I don’t really remember why I did like, full linework and shading for that while the rest of the fuckin vid is just sketches. I guess it was fully still animation so it wasn’t that big of a deal. Drawing the very silly little shots of them going by the train was a lot more fun though, I also used it to reference a few more pieces from the past!

The first shot of them with Angie was a reference to the Day 70 Piece, since I always kinda headcanoned (yeah headcanoning my own art, that makes sense) that it was Angie who made it. Then we got Day 82, which at the time of writing this hasn’t been posted! Flashback to whatever day that Karaoke pic with the Ikuzonobuki trio was on for the shot of Junko watching Mikan sing.

And then after that is the Flatwoods monster part, which is the really fun one because I have no idea if I’ll have drawn anything for that by the time this gets released. I really want to though because I love the Flatwoods Monster and I love Junkan, so why not combine them! Alas, I’m working on the December 24th comic as I write this so I might not have time to make that on time.

Yasuke and Tsumugi! I’ve given my thoughts on them before of course, I think during Day 60? My brain at this point just felt very inclined to include them in this, Yasuke especially. Even if just as a very small cameo I kinda just associate these two with Junkan? Admittedly it’s mostly because of Val’s fic, I won’t act like that isn’t just the blueprint for everything in the junkan portion of my brain.

I also used this opportunity to once more make up for the fact that I had drawn so very little kabedon content in this whole project.

After that this probably becomes the cheesiest thing i’ve ever made. The scene of Mikan looking sad was another scene directly based off of the original opening this all based on. After the spin transition I put a little too much effort into was supposed to be a shot of Junko doing Mikan’s hair while Mukuro and Sayaka try to do the same with Ibuki. If I remember the timeline of events I realized I couldn’t make this scene last until the next scene on the storyboard without dragging it out, so I was gonna try adding other little vignettes of antics. However in a rare act of self care I decided to not make this any harder on myself and just scrapped it, skipped to the next storyboard, and extended it out to fit the time. Do I like this in the longrun?? Ehhhhhh, personally I think I shoulda just sucked it up and just added some smaller shots, but miraculously I have people who care about me and would probably prefer it if I didn’t destroy my body for a music video, so I probably made the right choice.

Those outfits look kinda familiar! Whether because I was struggling to think of a new outfit, or because I had just drawn a kabedon, I decided to reuse the outfits from Day 74! Junko’s was a pain in the ass to animate! Never again! Also I colored the Boba to match my pride headcanons for both of them, Mikan being bi and Junko being pan. One kiss and another god damn spin transition i put too much effort into making look good, and we’re at the last scene.

And there’s a mildly fun story for the art used in the background. Like I already said, they were added last minute because the scene would be dead air without them. However I could have done more little clips and vignettes and not fully drawn art pieces. So why did I do fully drawn art pieces?? I was starving, of course.

You all know my rule that I’m not allowed to draw any Junkan before the current one on the project is finished, correct? Well guess who wasn’t able to draw any normal junkan for like 3 months because I had to focus on making a music video. I can reread a bunch of fics or stare at art forever but the desperate and violent urge to make more and add to the pile so my brain feels nice is insatiable, especially with the rate I was making these previously before the music video began production.

Sooo, making some last minute assets seemed like a pretty good excuse to finally draw something fresh. And it was a fucking blessing on my brain at this point.

I tried to do a runthrough of their relationship up to this point, flashing back all the way until their first encounter. Was this a thinly veiled excuse to realistically include a halloween pic? Yes. But hey, that last shot was always planned so on some level I have to be justified in my actions. Let’s talk about these pieces one at a time.

First up, hey, that kinda looks familiar. That’s right, assuming the stars aligned and allowed me to gain the strength to draw the December 24th Comic all on time (I’m 17 pages in at the moment send past me your strength, time travel is real if I say it is), then you might notice that I just took the outfits for this winter-y art and featured them in the story!

So I did in fact draw the Halloween art first and realized I could probably do something vaguely interesting with a timeline of events, so I realized it would probably be best to put the winter art BEFORE October, because I like to dream of a year where I can celebrate Halloween and not freeze to death. It just also happens that it kinda conveniently fits the current time! Since this is releasing in winter! A miracle.

This ones pretty simple obviously, I unfortunately have nothing impressive or interesting to say on the art itself, more just stuff surrounding it.

Now the Halloween Art. Well i also don’t have a lot to say there either but god dammit i’ll sure as hell try!~

Listen I wasn’t fully confident that I would have the project done in time for Halloween, and as I’ve probably said before (or at least implied), while I could certainly draw more art on my own time after the 100 days were ready, until this was a public thing and the world was made well aware of my obsession, I couldn’t post it. It is extremely good luck (and also burnout) that I was able to get this done in time to actually post during October, so I did get to draw Halloween Stuff! But when I was making this?? I saw an opportunity to say “fuck it” and draw something spooky with these two, my favorite holiday and (probably) my favorite ship?? Yes please!

As for designing their halloween outfits I sure did fucking wing it! Yeah no thought process, just spooky as fuck.

Though something interesting about this art that my girlfriend pointed out is that the way I shaded and colored it matches up a lot with my older art. Since I’m not gonna drag through my old gallery to find good examples the best way I can sum it up is that my coloring style back in the day was a lot more candy colored. If that makes sense? More saturated colors I guess? Whenever I look at pieces like those and this I just think of a bowl of colorful candy.

I miss drawing like that, I don’t know what changed. It’s hard to go back, but maybe i’ll try.

The next shot might seem familiar, but not to any of my other pics, but rather a fic! When writing my Vampire Junkan AU I decided that I wanted to do an Aquarium Date for one of the bigger chapters, because as we all know, Fish and Vampires go together like chocolate and peanut butter. When writing it I was thinking of when I wanted to do the big kiss scene, and this art came to mind! So while it’s not very 1 to 1, I tried my best to recreate it through words.

Why did I draw aquarium art in the first place? I wanted to draw a sunfish . . . I’m a very simpleminded woman in most cases y’know?

The next image was actually even more last minute than the other 3, cause even with those I didn’t have enough to cover the timeframe of the scene. Soooo, Junko giving Mikan a flower.

Maybe this was her confessing? Asking her out? I haven’t thought about it enough.

And after so long we’re finally back to me just ripping straight from the original opening this is based off of, and in the original its a very sentimental memory for one of the main characters. So pretty early on alongside the Monokuma bit I knew I should have that specific last flashback be their first meeting. I think this is like, my 4th or 5th time depicting a first meeting between these two? It’s always fun to do, and the one in this music vid I think you can tell was decently inspired by Kayleen’s “Smile” Fic, albeit not a direct adaptation and with like, 2% more whimsy.

And a proposal!! We all crack eventually and there was only so god damn long I could stop myself from depicting one, and what better place than an ill advised music video? Also the gleam of the ring just made for a really good transition out of this and I’m still shocked by how well I was able to make it look.

And that’s it! I feel like I didn’t talk about this one as much as I thought I would?? Granted I think this is still one of the longer rambles I’ve gone on, but given the jump in scale I thought this’d be a bit more, excessive??

I already said earlier but for as, fucking agonizing as this was, I will probably, someday, try to do another animation like this. Hell I’m collaborating with my Girlfriend on a VS Project right now and I’m hoping to at least do small bits of actual animating on it. Which I think I can do??

As for music videos, welllll I do have two in mind, one is Vampire Junkan (though not in the way you think), and the other doesn’t specifically focus on Junkan but it sure will have a Billy Joel song.

So what’s up next??

Well I’m just gonna say this now, Day 100 does not go higher in scale than this, I won’t say what it is but its like, normal. Day 99 should be fun though! As for 91 through 98? Well! We’ve got 8 days of Fanfics! I didn’t write anything don’t worry. I made 8 pictures based off of 8 fanfics, with only one repeat author! There’s reason for that though you’ll see. There’s some direct adaptations of scenes, covers for the story, and like, something more based off the vibe, it’s hard to describe. You’ll see.

Gonna try my best to sing the praises of the fics themselves though I worry that I won’t be able to adequately sing the praises of these stories to the same degree that I did on Day 60, so hopefully I can at least convince ya’ll to give them a read yourself!~

Here’s hopin ya’ll enjoy the results!

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

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joaniscruzing · 4 months ago

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sailor song - part 1 - e.w.

I am so glad to be writing a series again you guys! Heads up though, I am in school now, so I do need to focus on my studies, which means I can't crank out chapters once a day like I used to!

Y'all. I love Jackson Ellie. I legit have a Halloween costume of this on standby.

Summary: Mostly exposition, reader meets Ellie after a lot of staring from afar.

Warnings: Talks of religion

A/N: I'm trying to set this on after the events of TLOU II. In my head, I always feel like Ellie went back to Jackson and tried to start over and forget everything. I feel like she'd try to better herself, especially after literally losing everything. Also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter.

⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰

In Jackson, you normally went on about your day. You would wake up, pray, have the occasional outing, go on patrol, and then go back to your abode, where you would sleep. You always noticed Ellie though. Her presence, full of light, darkening as time passed, always penetrated your carelessness towards any outside happenings–or people.

You liked how Ellie carried herself, confident, and taking no shit from nobody. However, you also knew of Ellie’s sexuality, which, in your books, was a sin. While you would typically disregard sinners, there was just something about Ellie that drew you in. You didn’t know if it was the two pools of green mystery that were her eyes, or her low, but enchanting voice. Sometimes you would look from afar, watching her laugh as she smoked her joint and coughed, wondering if you and her would ever cross paths in the future. You presumed that she was too cool for you, too rebellious. In fact, you thought that in a normal world, she’d be a celebrity, as famous as Anne Hathaway, an actress from a movie you had loved watching during the movie nights in Jackson as a little kid, The Princess Diaries.

You didn’t know why you were religious, you supposed that it was a way for you to make some sense of the situation around you. After all, you could sum up this apocalypse as just part of God’s plan; and you wouldn’t have to overthink about the issues that came from it and the harshness of the situation. That aside, you wore the cross necklace you found one day while exploring some abandoned building out of boredom proudly and constantly. You read your bible every night, in hopes that maybe it would help you understand your circumstances, and in hopes that there would be a heaven for you to go to in the future.

One day though, after a rather sleepless night, you found yourself heading into town for coffee, looking rather disheveled. You were so tired, in fact, that you didn’t realize that your coffee was sloshing all around in its cup, and getting all over you.

“Hey!” Ellie called, running behind you.

“Huh?” you replied wearily, snapping out of it immediately when you realized who it was. Crap. It’s Ellie Williams.

“Hey, uh, you seem like you shouldn’t be running back to your house with burning hot coffee. Why don’t you come over here for a bit and drink it?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that the coffee had gotten all over me. Please excuse my appearance,” you reply embarrassedly, “I’m fine though, thank you for the offer.”

“Then I’ll go with you to your house then.”

“Okay, didn’t realize you’re into stalking.”

“I’m into a lot more than just stalking”

Your cheeks burn like hot coals. “I suppose I can drink some coffee with you.”

“Alright then. Should we go back to your house?”

“No, no, we can drink some coffee at that table over there.”

“Are you hiding something?” You look her in the eyes. You sense a twinge of skeptical energy coming from her, which, per the rumors you heard, was never a good sign.

“No! My house just isn’t clean right now.”

With that, you and Ellie sit down and you drink your coffee.

“Do you want me to get you some?”

“Oh fuck no, I’ve always hated coffee.”

#wlw #lesbian #fanfic #fluff #pride #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #angst #sailor song #gigi perez

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gliphyartfan · 2 months ago

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It’s that’s time of year again folks! Another year over and a new one beginning!

To those who stuck to my blog, thanks for STILL finding my works worth reading!

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @eternadreeblissa @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes

To those who are new to my blog, thanks for finding my works worth reading 🥰

You guys are the best and I treasure you lot greatly.

Now, as always let’s begin this final bit for the year to make way for the new year!

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—

The dean’s office buzzed with excitement as invitations to the prestigious Martell Charity Gala were handed out to select students. (Y/n) was one of the lucky few. She stared at the sleek black and dark blue card embossed with silver lettering.

‘You are cordially invited to the annual Martell Charity Gala. This year’s theme is Midnight Elegance. Dress code: black and dark blue. Formal attire required. We hope to see you there.’

The invitation was beyond anything she’d ever dreamed of. Or anything she ever expected to happen to her.

Attending the gala meant mingling with the city’s elite, and maybe even a chance to network for any future career she chose at the end of her term at the college. The dean himself had handed her the invite, his smile unusually cheerful. “You’ve been a promising student, (Y/n).” Says the man who never even spoke to her before. “ This is a rare opportunity. Represent our school well.”

She didn’t notice the brief glance he shared with an unassuming man in the corner of the office as she left the room, a subtle nod exchanged.

——

(At a certain home base.)

——

“We all know this alliance with the Martells is a powder keg. They’re unpredictable, and Emilio doesn’t trust us any more than we trust him.”

The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from a single overhead light and the faint glow of the city skyline beyond the large windows. Around the long table each hero sat with an air of tension hanging over them.

Time sat at the head, his hands folded in front of him.

Twilight, having been the one to speak, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression grim.

“That’s an understatement,” Warriors added, sitting up straight with his hands folded in front of him. “The only reason he agreed to this ‘partnership’ is because it’s been mutually beneficial. But if he thinks we’re a threat to his control, he won’t hesitate to strike first.”

Hyrule shifted nervously, glancing between the others. “Do you think he’ll actually try something tonight? At a public event?”

“It’s possible…” Time said, his voice calm but firm. “Emilio knows this gala is the perfect stage to send a message, it’s his stage after all, to either solidify his power or undermine ours. That’s why we can’t let our guard down.”

Four, seated quietly at the table, nodded. “If he does try something, it won’t be obvious. He’ll strike in a way that keeps his hands clean while making us look weak.”

Wild smirked, his arms resting on the table. “Then we make sure he doesn’t get the chance. If things go south, I’ll have a plan to cut off his escape routes.”

“And cause a scene?” Warriors snapped, glaring at him. “We can’t afford to look reckless tonight. This Gala is well known in this city. Our reputation is at stake just as much as theirs.”

“Reputation doesn’t matter if we’re dead.” Wild shot back.

“Enough.” Time interrupted, his sharp tone silencing the room. He looked around at each of them, his gaze steady and commanding. “This isn’t the time for bickering. Emilio’s greatest weapon is chaos. We need to be united, disciplined, and ready to act. Without drawing unnecessary attention.”

His piercing gaze moved from one man to the next, ensuring he had their attention before he spoke.

“The Martell family’s gala tomorrow is an opportunity.” Time began, his voice calm but firm. “They’re gathering their allies, consolidating power, and using the pretense of charity to solidify their influence in the city. This is our chance to remind them that their reach is not absolute.”

Warriors leaned forward, his arms crossed. “And how exactly do we plan to do that without starting an all-out war in the middle of a ballroom? They’ll have security everywhere.”

“We’re not here to make a spectacle,” Twilight interjected, his tone even. “This is about sending a message. Subtle but clear.”

“Subtle’s not exactly our specialty,” Wild muttered, smirking.

“We’ll manage.” Time said bluntly, cutting off any further quips. “Legend, Four, and Hyrule have already ensured we’ll be prepared to bypass the Martells’ security measures.” He gestured toward the cane by his side. “Their metal detectors won’t detect our weapons.”

Hyrule nodded, his usually bright demeanor subdued. “The enchantments on the wood will hold, but they’re not infallible. We’ll need to act quickly if it comes to a fight.”

“What about their allies?” Legend asked, his voice sharp. “It’s not just the Martells we’re dealing with. They’ve got half the city’s scum in their pocket, and you can bet some of them will be at that party.”

“That’s why we’re keeping our eyes open,” Time replied. “This isn’t just about the Martells. It’s about understanding the full scope of their operations. Who they’re working with, what their next moves are. information is just as valuable as action.”

Sky leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed thoughtfully. “What’s the endgame here? If we make our move too soon, we risk pushing them into retaliation. And if we wait too long, they’ll see us as weak.”

“They already see us as a threat,” Warriors said. “That’s why they’re inviting us to this gala in the first place. They’re making a show of strength.”

“And we’re here to remind them that we’re not afraid.” Twilight added.

“What about (Y/n)?” Wild asked suddenly, drawing the attention of the group. “She wanted to invite us to celebrate New years with her family.” Every one was quiet at that.

“…Does she even know about any of this?”

“She doesn’t know the specifics.” Time said, his voice softening slightly. “And she won’t be involved. The last thing we need is for her to become a target when our position is being challenged.”

“Keeping her out of this might be harder than you think.” Legend muttered. “She’s observant. If she figures out what we’re up to-“

“She won’t.” Time interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ve kept her in the dark for a reason. This is not her world, and I intend to keep it that way.”

Wild exchanged a glance with Twilight, but neither said anything further.

As the conversation continued, the Chain began outlining their individual roles for the evening.

“Warriors and Twilight will be stationed near the entrances,” Time instructed. “You’ll monitor who comes and goes. Note anyone of interest and ensure no surprises.”

“Understood.” Warriors said, his expression serious.

“Sky, you’ll be mingling within the crowd with me,” Time continued. “Keep your ears open for any useful information. If anyone seems too eager to flaunt their alliances, take note. Wild will go undercover.”

Sky nodded, while Wild smirked. “I’m great at blending in.”

“Legend, and Hyrule,” Time said, turning to them. “You’ll be my backup. If things take a turn, we’ll need to act quickly and decisively.”

“And besides being with Sky, what will you do?” Warriors asked, his brow furrowed.

“I’ll handle Emilio Martell personally.” Time said. “If he thinks he can intimidate us into backing down, he’ll learn otherwise.”

The group was wrapping up their meeting when Sky frowned and gestured toward the table. “What about the alliance? Are we still trying to maintain it, or are we burning that bridge tonight?”

“The alliance is tenuous at best,” Time admitted. “If the opportunity arises to weaken their position without breaking our agreement, we take it. But if they cross the line—”

“We make sure they regret it.” Twilight finished, his tone cementing the decision.

The room fell silent as the weight of their mission settled over them. Each man understood the risks involved, but none of them wavered.

As they prepared to leave, Time glanced at them one last time. “This is a game of chess. Stay sharp, stay vigilant, and don’t make any moves you can’t defend.”

They nodded, each heading off to prepare for the night ahead. None of them realized that (Y/n)’s presence at the gala would throw their plans into chaos.

——

(Y/N) sat crosslegged on her bed, her laptop open to a collection of evening dresses she had been scrolling through for the past hour.

Around her, piles of her own clothes were scattered, a few dresses, skirts, and tops she had dragged out in a half hearted attempt to make something work.

Her best friends, Nic and Tess, lounged nearby, armed with snacks and opinions. Tess flipped through a fashion magazine, occasionally holding it up to show a dress she thought would work, while Nic leaned against the wall, his arms crossed and a skeptical look on his face.

“I don’t get why you’re even going to this thing,” Nic said, frowning. “Missing New Year’s with your family for some snobby party full of rich jerks? What’s the point?”

(Y/N) sighed, flopping back onto her bed. “The Dean basically cornered me into it. He said it’s a great opportunity for networking, and I could represent the college or something. Plus, he said the invitation was ‘special.’” She made air quotes.

Tess raised an eyebrow. “Special? Sounds suspicious.”

“I thought so too,” (Y/N) admitted, sitting up again. “But he made it sound like I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t go. And now I’m stuck trying to figure out what to wear when I could be at home with my family, watching movies and eating junk food.”

Nic snorted. “Yeah, sounds like a real ‘opportunity.’”

“Stop sulking, Nic.” Tess said, smirking. “If she’s going to go, we might as well make sure she looks amazing.”

(Y/N) groaned. “That’s the problem. The dress code is black and dark blue, and everything I’ve looked at is either ridiculously expensive or way too fancy for me.”

Tess tossed the magazine onto the bed and gestured to (Y/N)’s laptop. “Show me what you’ve found so far.”

(Y/N) pulled up a tab with a simple but elegant black dress, a knee length with a slight shimmer to the fabric and a modest V-neckline. “This one’s nice, but even the budget version is still kind of pricey.”

Tess nodded approvingly. “That’s actually pretty perfect. It’s simple, but with the right accessories, it’ll look classy.”

Nic squinted at the screen. “How much is it?”

(Y/N) winced. “More than I’d like to spend.”

“Ugh, fine,” Nic said, throwing his hands up. “I’ll chip in. But you owe me one.”

(Y/N) blinked in surprise. “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” Nic said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to let you show up to some hot shot event looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

Tess grinned. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Okay, we need shoes. Do you have anything that would work?”

(Y/N) got up and rummaged through her closet, pulling out a pair of black heels. “These?”

“Perfect,” Tess said. “Now jewelry. Do you have anything sparkly but not over the top?”

(Y/N) nodded, grabbing a simple silver pendant necklace her grandmother had given her. “…This?”

“Oooh~” Tess said. “It’s perfect.”

Nic sighed dramatically. “I can’t believe I’m sitting through this. I could be at home right now.”

(Y/N) laughed. “But you’re not and I love you for it Nic. I owe you big time.”

“Damn right you do.” he said, with a half hearted grumble.. “But seriously, you better make it worth it. If you’re going to miss New Year’s with your family, at least make sure you own the room.”

He paused and looked at Tess. “…and since when can you pick decent looking outfits?”

Tess cheerfully flipped him off as a response.

(Y/N) smiled, feeling a little less anxious about the event. “Thanks, guys. You’re the best.”

Tess waved a hand dismissively. “Just remember us little people when you’re flattering the rich boys.”

“Not likely.” (Y/N) said, grinning. “But I’ll try to survive the night without embarrassing myself.”

———

—-

——-

The ballroom was a sight of elegance.

Dark blue and black draped the high ceilings, lit by soft, golden chandeliers that cast a warm glow over the polished floors.

Guests were trickling in, dressed in sleek gowns and sharp suits, as waiters weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres. The Martells, as always, spared no expense for their events.

The Chain arrived early, sharply dressed in tailored suits. Time, standing tall with his cane, led the group into the room. His expression was calm, blank, almost cold, but beneath the surface, his mind was cataloging every detail his eye took in.

Warriors adjusted the cufflinks on his dark blue suit, his eyes scanning the room for anything out of place. “The decorations scream ‘power play,’ but the crowd isn’t just Martells and their allies. Look, some of their enemies are here too.”

“Which are also OUR enemies.”

“Enemy of my enemy and all that?”

“ They’ve got a mixed hand tonight.”

“Not good” Twilight said, his voice low. “But the more we know, the better.”

Sky walked close to Time. “I’ll keep an eye on the exits. If anything goes wrong, we’ll need a way out.”

“Wild,” Time said, glancing at him. “Mask up. We need you moving unseen.”

Wild nodded, slipping on the Stone Mask Time gave him. As soon as it settled on his face, Wild’s presence seemed to fade, even from his companions.

“Make a circuit around the room.” Time instructed. “Mark the exits, entrances, and anything unusual. Report back as soon as you have something.”

Without a word and two taps on Time’s shoulder, Wild slipped into the crowd, moving unnoticed even as he brushed past guests and waiters..

That was the cue for fhe Chain to subtl spread out, the tension between them was palpable. Hyrule stayed near the refreshments table, pretending to enjoy a drink as he scanned for any signs of trouble.

Warriors lingered near the dance floor, his sharp eyes watching the movements of the waitstaff and Martell associates.

Twilight leaned against a pillar near one of the exits, his stance relaxed but his senses sharp. “I don’t like this…” he muttered into the comms.

“No one does.” Time responded coolly. He stood near the center of the room, his cane in hand, glass of champagne in another, looking every bit like a guest enjoying the event and he smiled at Legend while they pretended to have a normal chat. “Focus. Stay sharp.”

Minutes passed, and then Wild’s voice crackled through their earpieces. “…We’ve got a problem.”

“What is it?” Warriors asked immediately.

Wild’s tone was unusually tense. “She’s here.”

There was a pause before Time’s measured voice cut through. “Who?”

“(Y/N).” Wild said, his voice more anxious this time. “She’s at the event.”

The Chain froze. The air seemed to thicken as the weight of Wild’s words sank in.

“What?” Twilight said sharply, his calm demeanor cracking.

“Are you sure?” Sky asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and concern.

Wild confirmed, “Positive. She’s here, and… she looks like a guest, not someone who wandered in. This isn’t an accident.”

Sky clenched his fists, trying to stay calm, but his attention shifted sharply as he spotted movement across the room. His eyes widening slightly when he saw a tall, dark-haired man in a perfectly tailored black suit approach (Y/N).

“It gets worse..” Sky muttered into the comms. “She’s being approached by Emilio Martell.”

The Chain’s tension snapped into a razor sharp focus.

———

—

———

(Y/N) stood near a small group of guests, nursing a flute of sparkling water as she tried to blend in. Her dress fit the event’s theme perfectly, but she still felt out of place. She glanced around, scanning the faces of the room, trying to distract herself from the dull ache of missing her family on New Year’s Eve.

“Miss (Y/N)..” came a smooth voice behind her.

She turned, startled to see a tall man with a confident smile and piercing green eyes. His presence was…attention grabbing, the kind of aura that drew you in whether you wanted it or not.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” he said, extending a hand. “Emilio Martell. Organizer of this years event. A pleasure to meet you.”

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand. “(Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

“You must be a guest of honor,” Emilio said, his tone laced with charm. “You stand out in a room full of people trying very hard not to.”

(Y/N) gave a polite smile, unsure how to respond. “I’m.. actually here on behalf of my college. My Dean thought it would be a good opportunity. I’m surprised you know my name.”

Emilio’s smile widened. “A wise choice on his part. And I make it a point to know the names of my guests. Your presence certainly elevates the room.”

—-

——

Sky’s hands balled into fists as he watched Emilio speak to (Y/N). His posture stiffened, and his normally calm demeanor wavered. “We need to get her out of there,” he muttered.

“No sudden moves, Sky stand down.” Time said firmly. “We can’t tip our hand.”

“She doesn’t know who Emilio is.” Warriors said, his voice strained. “She doesn’t know she’s walking into a lion’s den. Who invited her here?”

“I aim to find out.” Legend growled under his breath as he tapped away at his phone, Wind and Four on the other line, watching though the cameras.

Twilight growled, his frustration barely contained. “We need a plan. Now.”

“We can’t draw attention.” Time said. His voice remained calm, but there was a cold edge to it. “Wild, stay on her. Legend, find a way to get closer without causing a scene. Everyone else, maintain your positions.”

The Chain knew they were on borrowed time. The stakes had just risen, and they couldn’t afford to make a single misstep, not when (Y/N) was now caught in the middle of this.

——

Emilio Martell’s charming smile never wavered as he continued speaking to (Y/N), his body language relaxed and confident. He was fully aware of the eyes on him. But it was no matter. Emilio thrived on this kind of tension, playing the predator circling his prey.

“You’ve been making an an excellent impression tonight.” he said to (Y/N), his voice low and smooth. “I’m sure your college will appreciate the effort. And what about you? Are you enjoying yourself?”

(Y/N) hesitated, glancing at the luxurious surroundings. She was still a little on edge, but Emilio’s casual attitude eemed to ease her nerves. “It’s a beautiful event…” she admitted with a sheepish smile. “A bit overwhelming, but… yes, I think I am.”

Emilio nodded, his smile widening. “I’m glad. It’s always a pleasure to meet someone with a genuine appreciation for the finer things.” He gestured toward the bar. “Can I get you something? A champagne? Perhaps something stronger?”

“No, thank you.” (Y/N) said politely. “I��m fine with sparkling water.”

“Ah, a woman of discipline,” Emilio said, his tone approving. “I respect that.”

From his position near one of the exits, Sky watched the interaction with barely contained anger. Emilio’s posture and expression were deceptively polite, but there was an undeniable undercurrent of smugness, as though he were mocking them with every word.

“Emilio knows,” Sky said into his comm, his tone tight. “He’s playing her to get at us. This isn’t a coincidence.”

“No,” Time responded coldly, his gaze locked on Emilio from across the room. “This is deliberate. He wanted us here, and now he’s using her as leverage.”

“Then why isn’t he doing anything yet?” Twilight asked. He was stationed at a nearby pillar, his sharp eyes scanning for any sign of Emilio’s associates.

“He’s baiting us,” Warriors said grimly. “Waiting for us to make the first move so he can claim innocence.”

“What’s the plan?” Wild’s voice came through, calm but edged with tension. He had taken a position near the shadows of the room, his presence still cloaked by the Stone Mask.

“Hold positions.” Time ordered. “We can’t act without exposing her connection to us. Sky, stay close but out of sight. Legend keep your bracelet at the ready, Wild, keep circling. Look for anything out of place.”

“And if he tries something?” Hyrule asked, his voice quiet but determined.

“He won’t get the chance.” Time replied calmly.

As (Y/N) tried to navigate the conversation, she felt the weight of Emilio’s attention growing heavier. He leaned in slightly, his tone dropping to something more intimate.

“You have an air about you,” Emilio said. “Something unique. People like you don’t go unnoticed in a place like this.”

(Y/N) offered a polite smile, her discomfort starting to creep back in. “I’m just here to represent my college. Nothing special.”

Emilio chuckled softly. “Don’t sell yourself short. A sharp mind and a beautiful face, those are rare qualities. But I imagine you already know that. Perhaps there is a position in one of my businesses that could use someone like you..”

Before (Y/N) could respond, another voice cut through the moment.

“Ah, Martell. Already charming the guests, I see.”

Time’s smooth, even tone drew Emilio’s attention. The older man approached with a casual gait, his cane tapping lightly against the polished floor. His expression was perfectly neutral, betraying nothing of the storm beneath.

Emilio straightened, his smile unfaltering. “And here I thought you were too busy inspecting the decor to join us, Signore Time.”

Time’s lips twitched in the faintest semblance of a polite smile. “One should always make time for old acquaintances.” His sharp eye flickered to (Y/N), and he added, “And new ones.”

(Y/N) brightened slightly at his familiar presence. “Time! I didn’t know you were here.”

“I couldn’t miss such a prestigious event, especially one I was invited to.” Time replied smoothly, his gaze briefly lingering on her before returning to Emilio. “And it seems you’ve already made an impression.”

Emilio’s smile tightened, just a fraction. “Your reputation precedes you, Signore Time. Always a man of observation.”

Time inclined his head, his grip tightening slightly on his cane. “And you’ve always been a man of theatrics. How… fitting.”

The subtle tension between the two men was palpable, though (Y/N) seemed blissfully unaware of the undercurrents. Distracted with the relief of someone familiar at the event with her.

Emilio continued, Wild’s voice came through the comms again.

“Martell’s got people,” he said quietly. “Two by the north exit, one near the bar. They’re watching Emilio closely.”

“Armed?” Warriors asked.

“Likely,” Wild confirmed. “And they’re not alone. There’s movement on the buildings across from this place, looks like snipers.”

Four’s voice came through the comms, cold. “Keep marking positions. We’re not moving until we know the full picture.”

—-

Emilio took a step closer to Time, his smile still intact but his eyes hardening. “This city is a place for opportunity, don’t you think? A place where alliances can thrive… or falter.”

Time didn’t react, his tone even. “Opportunity, like respect, is earned. Not bought with cheap theatrics.”

Emilio chuckled, though the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “And yet, it seems even you can’t resist a good show.”

Time met his gaze steadily, unflinching. “Let’s hope your finale doesn’t disappoint.”

The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife, but both men maintained their masks of civility.

As Emilio turned back to (Y/N), his charming smile returning, Sky took the chance to step closer, his presence calm but deliberate.

“Excuse me.” Sky said smoothly, his voice gentle but firm. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

(Y/N) turned, surprised but relieved to see him. “Sky! You’re here too?”

“I’m someone’s plus one tonight.” Sky replied, his gaze briefly flicking to Emilio before returning to (Y/N). “Would you mind if I borrowed you for a moment? I’d like to catch up if that’s alright with you Mr. martell?”

Emilio’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to monopolize her time.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Sure, Sky.”

Sky offered her his arm, and she took it, allowing him to gently guide her away. As they moved, Wind’s voice came through the comms.

“She’s safe for now, Sky has her.” he said. “But Emilio’s watching her closely. We need to wrap this up before he makes his move.”

——-

Emilio watched as Sky led (Y/N) away, his smile lingering for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to Time. The man before him was an enigma, always calm, always composed, and always a step ahead. Emilio had played these games with powerful men before, but there was something about “Signore Time” that unsettled him.

“Your associate seems quite protective,” Emilio remarked, his tone casual but his words carefully chosen.

Time’s one visible eye remained fixed on him, cold and calculating. “My associates are loyal. Loyalty is the foundation of any successful… endeavor, don’t you agree?”

Emilio’s smile tightened. “Of course. Loyalty, after all, is the currency of trust. But trust can be so fleeting, can’t it? Especially in our line of work.”

“Only for those who don’t know its value,” Time replied smoothly. He leaned lightly on his cane, the movement calculated to appear as a casual gesture. “Those who gamble with loyalty often find themselves alone when the stakes are highest.”

Emilio chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Ah, but gambling can be so exhilarating, can’t it? The thrill of the unknown, the rush of risk… It’s what keeps us all moving forward.”

“Some might say it’s a fool’s game,” Time countered. “A fleeting pleasure for those who mistake recklessness for strength.”

Emilio tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. “And yet, even the most calculated plans can crumble under the weight of a single misstep. Tell me, Signore Time, do you ever wonder if your own calculations might one day fail you?”

Time’s lips curved into the faintest semblance of a smile. “I’ve learned to anticipate missteps. To anticipate possibilities of past, present and future. It’s why I’m still standing.” He paused, his tone lowering slightly. “But the same can’t be said for everyone, can it…Emilio?”

The subtle use of Emilio’s first name was not lost on the younger man, whose smile faltered ever so slightly before he quickly recovered. “Touché. You’ve always been… thorough. But thoroughness has its price. It must get exhausting, always watching, always waiting.”

“Not as exhausting as underestimating an opponent.” Time said, his tone icy. He tapped his cane lightly against the floor, the sound barely audible over the soft murmur of the gala. “Tell me, Emilio, do you ever wonder if your own gambles will come back to haunt you? Or do you prefer to ignore the debts you’ve accrued?”

Emilio’s smile grew sharper, his eyes narrowing. “Debts, Signore Time, are a necessary part of the game. It’s how you leverage them that determines your success. But then again, you’ve never been one to play by conventional rules, have you?”

“I’ve found conventional rules to be limiting. ” Time replied. “And fragile.” He stepped forward slightly, just enough to subtly impose his presence. “Unlike the alliances I forge, which are built to last.”

Emilio laughed lightly, though there was a tension in his posture now. “Well, I suppose that’s what sets you apart. A man of… permanence in a world that changes so quickly. It’s admirable, really.”

“Admiration is a fleeting thing,” Time said, his gaze unwavering. “I prefer respect. It holds more weight.”

Emilio held his gaze for a long moment, his smile thinning. “You’ve always been good at commanding respect, Signore Time. But I wonder… how long can one man hold the weight of it all before he crumbles?”

Time didn’t blink. His voice was calm, deliberate, and unyielding. “A man who stands alone might crumble. But a man who stands with those who are loyal to him? He becomes unshakable.”

The two men stood in silence for a moment, the tension between them palpable. Emilio’s smile remained, but his eyes betrayed the simmering frustration beneath the surface. Time, as always, was unmovable, his presence as solid and enduring as the name he had chosen for himself.

“Enjoy the evening, Signore Time,” Emilio said finally, his tone polite but edged with malice.

“I always do.” Time replied, his voice even. “And I trust you will as well. After all, tonight’s… festivities are just getting started.”

As Emilio turned and walked away, Time remained still, his grip on his cane tightening ever so slightly. The game had begun, and Time was already five moves ahead.

——

The gala was in full swing. Guests floated across the polished marble floor, their laughter and conversation a background to the string quartet playing softly in the corner. Yet, for those who knew the true purpose of the evening, the atmosphere was a mask stretched thin, ready to snap at the slightest poke.

Amidst the glittering gowns and tailored suits, the Chain moved like shadows. Twilight and Warriors blended seamlessly into the crowd, their sharp eyes scanning the room for potential threats. Hyrule lingered near a grand pillar, subtly marking the entrances and exits, while Wild, cloaked in the anonymity granted by his Stone Mask, wove unnoticed through the clusters of guests.

Through the comms, Wind’s voice cut through the quiet hum of tension. “Why do they get to hang out with her? I’m stuck doing recon! It’s not fair!”

“Wind,” Warriors replied curtly, his voice low and commanding, “focus on your task. She’s safer this way.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wind muttered, clearly pouting. “Still sucks.”

Wild, unseen and unnoticed, chuckled softly through his channel. “Keep your eyes open, kid. We’ll make it up to you later.”

“Wild,” Time’s calm voice interrupted, laced with authority, “report.”

Wild’s tone shifted immediately. “Martell is making his rounds, but nothing actionable yet. I’ll keep tracking him.”

Time’s gaze flicked briefly toward the far end of the room, where Emilio Martell moved among the guests with practiced ease, his smile as polished as the cut crystal glasses in their hands. But his focus didn’t linger. He turned back to (Y/N), who stood beside him and Sky, her expression bright with a mix of curiosity and unease.

Time allowed himself a brief moment to savor her presence. Her dark blue dress, simple yet stunning, caught the light just enough to draw the eye without overwhelming, the intricate stitching along the hem whispering of elegance on a budget. Her (h/c) hair framed her face perfectly, and her eyes sparkled with the kind of sincerity that felt rare in a room filled with veiled intentions.

Sky leaned closer to her, his warm smile disarming. “You look incredible tonight, (Y/N). It’s no wonder you caught everyone’s attention.”

She blushed lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks, but I feel a little out of place here. Everyone seems so… important.”

“You belong here as much as anyone.” Time assured her, his voice steady and grounding.

Her lips curved into a small smile, though doubt still lingered in her eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for the Dean. It’s strange that he thought I’d fit in at something like this.”

Sky’s expression remained relaxed, though a flicker of unease passed between him and Time. “You’re more important than you realize.” Sky said softly, his words layered with a meaning she didn’t catch.

In the distance, Hyrule’s voice crackled softly through the comms. “Martell’s stopping near the auction stage. He’s speaking to someone, looks like one of the heads of the merchant syndicate.”

Twilight’s voice followed, low and steady. “No sudden moves. We’re not here to start anything unless it’s unavoidable.”

“Unavoidable might come faster than we think,” Warriors murmured. “Keep eyes on the entrances. If Martell’s expecting trouble, he’ll have a backup plan.”

Meanwhile, (Y/N) shifted slightly, her attention caught by a glittering chandelier overhead. “This place is incredible,” she said, her voice full of genuine awe. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Sky chuckled. “It does have a certain charm, doesn’t it?”

Time’s gaze remained fixed on her, his usual stoicism softening ever so slightly. “You have an eye for beauty.” he remarked.

She laughed lightly, shaking her head. “I think it’s just the novelty. I’m not used to this kind of… luxury.”

Through the comms, Wind groaned dramatically. “She’s so adorable, and I’m missing it! This is the worst.”

“Focus, Wind,” Warriors snapped.

“Fine.” Wind muttered, his voice laced with defeat.

Wild’s report cut through the moment. “Martell’s moving again. Heading toward the upper balcony.”

“Good,” Time said quietly. “Everyone, stay in position. Sky and I will keep her occupied. Wild, follow Martell but keep your distance.”

“Understood,” Wild replied, already moving.

As the Chain’s unseen web tightened around the room, Sky leaned closer to (Y/N), his voice low and playful. “So, what’s the verdict? Are you enjoying the party?”

She smiled up at him, her earlier unease momentarily forgotten. “Honestly, I think I’m more nervous than anything. But it’s… nice.”

Time’s hand rested lightly on the head of his cane, his ever watchful eye scanning the room even as he spoke. “As long as you’re with us, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

Though she didn’t fully understand the depth of his words, (Y/N) found comfort in them, unaware of the storm brewing just beneath the surface.

——

Far away from the Gala, something odd began to happe.

The Chain’s main property had a vault hidden deep within its estate, a place no one besides the nine visited. This room held everything they had managed to hold on to from Hyrule: old weapons, tools, trinkets, and treasures with enough magic to make anyone in the modern world go pale. The storage was locked tight, enchanted by Hyrule, Legend, and Time to ensure no one but the Chain could enter.

The room was dim, the only light coming from faintly glowing runes etched into the walls and the edges of shelves. Everything in here had a history, everything had a use but tonight, one item decided to stir.

A small, nondescript pouch sat on a table, forgotten among the more dramatic relics. It didn’t look like much-just a plain, worn bag. But it twitched, the fabric shifting like it had something alive inside.

Then, the drawstring loosened on its own, and out rolled a small wooden carving. The figure landed lightly on the table, lying still for a moment before its smooth, carved head tilted slightly, as though waking up.

The carving was unmistakable: it was (Y/N), dressed in a blue tunic and trousers like a proper Hylian adventurer. The details were shockingly accurate, down to the tiny curls of her hair and the soft expression on her face.

The doll’s eyes glowed faintly, their light cutting through the dark room. Then came the sound, soft at first, like a faint giggle, playful and almost childlike.

It echoed, but it did not sound malicious. The doll twitched, its tiny arms shifting slightly as if it was trying to stretch. And then, a voice filled the room.

“Warmth…” the voice murmured, the word reverberating through the storage like a ripple in still water. “Home. Heart. Warmth is here.”

A translucent mist began to seep out of the doll, curling like smoke but with a faint glow that pulsed like a heartbeat. The mist swirled and rose, twisting as it moved toward the ceiling.

The voice spoke again, louder now, with a strange resonance that filled the room. “Warmth is near…will find it.”

The mist lingered for a moment, swirling around the wooden carving before shooting upward, slipping through the cracks of the ceiling and disappearing entirely. It moved with purpose, drawn by an invisible force.

the undeniable presence of its Warmth, its Home, its Heart.

Somewhere, far from the location, (Y/N) remained blissfully unaware of the being seeking her out, as it moved with desire to be ever closer to its source of warmth.

——

The Gala buzzed around them, a hum of conversation, clinking glasses, and soft music filling the air. But (Y/N) barely noticed any of it as she leaned slightly toward Sky and Time, the tension in her shoulders melting just a little.

“I’m just saying,” (Y/N) grumbled, crossing her arms, “the Dean could’ve picked literally anyone else. I don’t even know why he thought I’d be a good fit for this.” She sighed, glancing at her nearly untouched glass of champagne. “I should be home right now, watching cheesy countdown specials with my family and eating way too many snacks. Not… whatever this is.”

Sky smiled at her, a little softer than usual. “Maybe he just thought you’d represent the school well,” he offered, though there was an edge to his voice, like he didn’t buy it either.

“Doubt it,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “This is the same guy who got my name wrong at orientation. Twice. And now I’m here, dressed like someone I’m not, trying to smile at people who probably don’t even care if I’m alive.”

Time didn’t say much, but his presence was steady. He tilted his head slightly, letting her vent without interruption, his good eye focused on her like she was the only thing in the room worth paying attention to.

Suddenly, Four’s voice came through the comms in their ears, low but clear. “I’m already looking into the Dean.” he said. “No way this is just a coincidence.”

Sky and Time didn’t react outwardly, but they exchanged a quick glance.

“What’ve you got so far?” Time asked, his voice barely above a murmur as he turned his attention back to (Y/N), who was fiddling with her glass and muttering something about how dumb gala food was.

“Not much yet,” Four replied. “But the timing’s too perfect. The Martells pull this stunt, and she just happens to be invited? Nah, there’s more to it. I’ll keep digging.”

Sky nodded subtly, keeping his expression neutral for (Y/N)’s sake. “Keep us updated,” he said under his breath, before giving her a reassuring smile. “At least you look good.” he added lightly, hoping to cheer her up.

(Y/N) groaned, half-amused. “Yeah, well, this dress cost me an entire paycheck, and a debt to Nic, so I’d better.” She glanced down at the elegant-but simple-dark blue gown she’d managed to snag last-minute. “I still feel out of place.”

“You’re not,” Time said quietly, his voice carrying that calm authority that made it impossible to argue. “You belong here with us.”

(Y/N) blinked at him, a little thrown by his certainty, but she didn’t have the energy to argue. “If you say so…” she mumbled, though her lips quirked into a faint smile.

Meanwhile, through the comms, Wind’s voice piped up, loud and eager. “Are we done keeping out of sight yet? I wanna hang out with her too!”

Sky sighed, keeping his voice low. “Patience, kid. She’s in a good mood. Let’s not ruin it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Wind huffed. “I’m stuck back here like some kind of stalker.”

“Wind,” Four said flatly, “you are a stalker right now. Stay put.”

The Chain kept their focus tight, even as (Y/N) relaxed more, her complaints slowing. But the underlying tension in the room wasn’t lost on them.

The music eventually slowed, and the crowd’s murmurs hushed as Emilio stepped onto the stage. His smile was wide, charming, but there was something in his eyes that set every nerve in the Chain on edge. A single hand gesture brought the room’s attention to him like he was the star of the show.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Emilio began smoothly, holding a glass of champagne like he was about to propose a toast. “I want to thank you all for joining us tonight as we welcome a new year. A year full of opportunities, partnerships, and, of course… resolutions.”

The crowd chuckled politely. Time’s jaw tightened, his cane resting just slightly closer to his side.

Emilio’s smile sharpened, though his tone stayed light. “Now, as we move forward, let’s all remember: respect is key. Whether in business or… personal matters.” He let the words hang in the air for a beat too long. “After all, no empire, no matter how storied, lasts without mutual understanding.”

Sky stiffened beside (Y/N), his hand brushing against her back as if by accident. Time said nothing, his face unreadable, but (Y/N) noticed his grip tighten slightly on the cane.

Emilio raised his glass higher. “To a prosperous new year-for all of us.”

The crowd erupted in cheers, the clinking of glasses filling the room as the lights suddenly flickered and cut out, plunging the venue into darkness. Gasps and murmurs spread like wildfire.

“Stay close.” Time muttered, grabbing (Y/N)’s wrist with enough firmness to leave no room for argument.

“What’s happening?” she whispered, but before either of them could answer, Wild’s voice crackled through their comms.

“They’re moving in.” Wild said, his voice clipped and urgent. “Emilio’s men are storming the place. They’re heading straight for you, Time. You’ve got maybe thirty seconds.”

Sky was already moving, grabbing (Y/N) by the arm and guiding her with Time through the chaos of startled partygoers. His voice was low, but firm. “Keep your head down and follow us.”

(Y/N)’s heart raced, her breath catching as the noise around them grew louder-panicked whispers, the shuffling of feet, and something heavier, more deliberate in the distance. “What’s going on?” she hissed.

“Not now.” Time said sharply, his tone brooking no argument.

Sky’s grip tightened as he scanned the room, their path lit only by the faint glow of emergency lights near the exits. “Wild, where are they now?”

“Closing in fast. Four’s trying to block the north wing, but there’s too many.”

“Twilight?” Time asked, guiding (Y/N) through the crowd with precise movements.

“Already clearing the way out,” Twilight answered. “Just get her to safety.”

(Y/N)’s mind raced as she tried to piece together what was happening, but the sheer force of Time and Sky’s urgency kept her quiet.

—-

The crowd grew more frantic, murmurs turning into shouts as Emilio’s men pushed through, barking orders for people to move aside. The air was thick with tension, and (Y/N) could feel it like a weight pressing down on her chest. Time and Sky moved quickly, keeping her between them as Four’s voice came through the comms.

“Keep moving south. Wind and I cleared a path through the kitchens. Get her there now.”

“Understood.” Time muttered, his grip steady on (Y/N)’s arm.

The three weaved through the growing chaos, Emilio’s men shoving partygoers out of the way as they advanced. A few of the guests started screaming, the reality of the situation hitting them like a brick. Sky stepped up his pace, his hand briefly brushing (Y/N)’s back to guide her faster.

“Almost there,” Sky said lowly, his eyes darting to every shadow.

(Y/N) stumbled slightly, catching her balance before glaring at him. “What the hell is going on? Who are these guys?”

“Not now.” Time said again, his voice firm but not unkind.

“Of course not now,” she muttered. “It’s always ‘not now.’”

They slipped into the kitchens, the bright lights and sterile metal surfaces a stark contrast to the dim chaos outside. Wind was waiting near the door, waving them over impatiently.

“Took you long enough.” he said, shutting the door behind them and locking it. “This place is going to hell out there.”

“Thanks for the update,” Sky said dryly, turning to (Y/N). “Sorry about all this. You weren’t supposed to-”

“To what?” (Y/N) cut him off, throwing her hands in the air. “Get dragged into some shady mafia nonsense on New Year’s Eve? Yeah, I kinda figured this would happen the second Time decided to show up.” She crossed her arms, her glare switching to Time.

“I should’ve stayed home, eaten my weight in cookies, and fallen into a food coma watching bad movies.” She huffed. “But no, this had to happen because you, Mr. Mysterious Mafia Boss, decided to ruin my night.”

Sky stiffened, unsure how to respond, but Time-of all people-just smiled. It was sheepish but amused, like he wasn’t even going to try denying it.

“That’s fair.” Time said, his tone lighter than she expected.

(Y/N) blinked, caught off guard by his reaction. She stared at him, then threw up her hands again. “Okay, good. Glad we’re on the same page.”

“Does that mean you’ll forgive me?” Time asked, his tone teasing but sincere.

She narrowed her eyes. “Only if I make it out of this alive-and you owe me big time.”

Time chuckled softly, his one good eye crinkling with amusement. “Deal.”

“Uh, not to interrupt,” Wind said, gesturing to the door, “but we’ve got bigger problems heading this way. Might want to save the banter for later.”

Time nodded, his expression sobering instantly. “Wild, status?”

“Still busy,” Wild answered over the comms. “But Emilio’s men are splitting up. They know you’re not in the main hall anymore.”

“Perfect.” Sky muttered, checking his surroundings.

Time turned back to (Y/N), his voice softer this time. “Stay close. No matter what happens, we’ll get you out of here.”

(Y/N) sighed, her irritation giving way to nervousness as she nodded. “You better.”

“Don’t worry,” Sky added with a small smile. “We’ve got this.”

“Less talking, more moving!” Wind urged, leading them toward the far side of the kitchens. The faint sounds of heavy boots grew louder, and the group picked up their pace, hearts pounding in sync with the chaos outside.

—-

In the middle of the chaos, Warriors, Hyrule, and Twilight were like shadows slipping through the edges of the fray. Armed with their enchanted wooden weapons, they moved quickly and silently. The daggers and short swords, deceptively simple-looking, cut through Emilio’s men without a hint of hesitation.

“Stay quiet, stay fast,” Warriors muttered to Hyrule as he ducked low, slashing the back of a man’s legs before delivering a swift finishing blow. “We can’t let them regroup.”

“On it,” Hyrule replied, his dagger already sinking into another opponent’s side. His movements were light and precise, almost like he was dancing around the chaos.

Twilight moved alongside them, his short sword cutting a clean arc through the air. “These guys are persistent,” he said through gritted teeth, ducking a swing and jabbing his blade into a man’s chest.

“Yeah, well, they don’t know who they’re messing with,” Warriors shot back, deflecting a strike and kicking his attacker hard enough to send him sprawling.

Meanwhile, Legend was a blur of motion, merging into the walls like a ghost thanks to his bracelet. Every time Emilio’s men thought they had him cornered, he’d reappear behind them, striking with brutal efficiency before fading back into the stone.

“Gotta admit,” Legend muttered under his breath, stepping out of a wall to grab a man’s throat before slamming him to the ground, “this is kinda fun.” He disappeared again, only his faint laughter trailing behind as more of Emilio’s men fell.

Overhead, Wild perched in the shadows of a balcony, his bow drawn tight. He had his eyes on Emilio, watching as the man barked orders and rallied his remaining allies.

“Emilio’s sticking close to the west hall,” Wild said through the comms, notching an arrow tipped with a makeshift wooden head. “But he’s got a lot of backup.”

“Keep him pinned,” Time ordered back. “We’re handling things on this end.”

“Got it,” Wild replied, taking aim at a particularly loud ally of Emilio’s. He let the arrow fly, grinning when it hit its mark right between the man’s shoulders. The target dropped with a grunt, and Wild ducked lower, quickly nocking another arrow.

Another group of Emilio’s men was rushing toward the kitchens, and Wild couldn’t let them get too close. He took another shot, this time hitting a man in the leg, sending him sprawling and causing the group to scatter.

“They’re slowing down,” Wild said into the comms. “But Emilio’s not backing off. He’s sending more men your way.”

“We’ll handle it,” Warriors replied, his voice sharp as he slashed through another attacker. “Just keep him busy.”

“Don’t worry,” Wild said, a smirk in his voice. “I’ve got it covered.”

The Chain worked seamlessly, their movements efficient and purposeful, each strike calculated to thin the enemy ranks. Even in the chaos, they were perfectly in sync, and while Emilio’s men were persistent, they were no match for the skill and coordination of Hyrule’s finest.

In the middle of it all, Time’s calm voice cut through the comms. “No mistakes. Stay sharp. We’re not leaving until she’s safe.”

“Roger that,” Legend muttered, slipping back into the walls to finish off another target. The Chain pressed on, their only objective was making sure (y/n) was safe from this place.

The dimly lit kitchen was eerily quiet for a moment, the sounds of shouting and chaos muffled behind the thick walls. Sky and Wind stood near the doors, their weapons ready, while Time kept his cane in hand, standing protectively in front of (y/n).

“Stay close.” Time instructed, his voice calm but firm.

Before (y/n) could even nod, the door to the kitchen slammed open, and Emilio’s men poured in. Time moved without hesitation, swinging his cane with surprising force. The enchanted wood slammed into the first man’s chest, sending him sprawling into the counter.

Sky stepped forward, his sword cutting through the air with a clean precision that sent two more men staggering back. “Keep moving!” he shouted, his gaze darting to Wind.

Wind grinned, brandishing his dagger as he dashed forward, darting between two attackers and tripping one with a swift kick before driving his blade into the other’s arm. “Not so tough now, are ya?”

As the fight raged, another man appeared from the shadows, moving silently toward Time. The older man was focused on the two men in front of him, his cane spinning in fluid, powerful arcs.

The figure behind him raised a knife, his steps quiet…too quiet. Time didn’t notice.

But (y/n) did.

“Time!” she shouted, her voice shaking as adrenaline kicked in. Without thinking, she grabbed the nearest heavy object, a large iron pot from the stove, and rushed forward.

The man didn’t even have time to turn before (y/n) brought the pot down with all her strength.

CLANG!

The sound echoed through the kitchen as the man crumpled to the ground, the knife slipping from his hand. (y/n) stood there, panting and wide-eyed, the pot still gripped tightly in her hands.

Time turned, his visible eye widening briefly as he took in the scene. The would-be attacker lay unconscious at his feet, and behind him stood (y/n), looking more shocked than he’d ever seen her.

“Nice one!” Wind called out, laughing as he deflected another strike.

“Not bad, (y/n).” Sky said with a faint grin, his sword taking down another attacker.

Time stepped closer to her, his expression softening just slightly as he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “You alright?”

“Uh… yeah,” she breathed out, still clutching the pot like a lifeline. “I think so.”

“Good,” Time said with a small, amused smile. “You might want to put the pot down, though.”

(y/n) blinked, glancing at the pot in her hands before letting it clatter to the floor. She exhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxing.

“I knew hanging around you would lead to something like this,” she muttered, glancing up at Time. “You owe me for ruining my night.”

“That’s fair.” Time said, his tone light as he turned back to the chaos, his cane swinging again.

But as another wave of men stormed in, (y/n) couldn’t help but glance at the pot again.

Maybe she wasn’t entirely done with it just yet.

——

The night air outside the gala was tense, Emilio stomping toward a black car parked at the curb with his men in tow. His face was twisted with anger, and his voice boomed over the chaos still brewing inside.

“Find them! Take them out! How the hell are they winning?!” he snarled, jabbing a finger in the direction of the building. “They’re a small group! They shouldn’t even be a threat!”

His men nodded, scattering to follow his orders as Emilio climbed into the car. In his hand, he held a small, sleek switch, his thumb hovering over the button. A grim smile spread across his face as he stared back at the building.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to speak more with that girl,” he muttered, almost to himself, though the venom in his tone remained. “But that’s how it goes. And as for Time-that fool! His death will be an example to everyone of what happens when you cross me.”

With that, Emilio pressed the button.

He stared at the building, waiting for the fireworks, for the grand finale that would erase all evidence of the Chain and everyone else inside.

Nothing happened.

Emilio frowned, pressing the button again. Still nothing.

He leaned forward in his seat, pressing it a third time, then a fourth, his frustration mounting with each click. “What the hell is going on?” he snapped, slamming the switch down on the seat beside him.

One of his men leaned into the car. “Sir?”

“WHERE are the explosives?! WHY isn’t this working?!” Emilio barked, grabbing the man by his jacket.

Before the man could respond, another voice called out from the crowd. “Boss! We’ve got a problem!”

Emilio shoved his current victim aside, stepping out of the car. “What now?”

The man hesitated, clearly nervous, but eventually spoke up. “Several of our bases… they’ve just exploded. Reports are coming in one after another, everything’s gone!”

For a moment, Emilio froze, the weight of the words sinking in. Then it clicked.

His face darkened, a snarl curling on his lips. “Time. That bastard knew. He knew what I was planning!”

He turned, glaring in the direction of the building, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. It all made sense now-the calm demeanor, the subtle arrogance. Time had been playing him the entire night, and he’d walked right into it.

Emilio’s glare could’ve set the building on fire if it hadn’t already been rigged to blow. “Get me out of here,” he growled, voice low and seething.

“But sir, what about—”

“I SAID GET ME OUT OF HERE!” he roared, cutting his man off.

With that, Emilio climbed back into the car, slamming the door behind him. As the vehicle sped away from the scene, he stared out the window, his mind racing with a mix of fury and humiliation.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

——

The group finally burst out into the cool night air, (y/n) panting from the running (never good with heels). They stumbled past the remnants of the chaos, adrenaline pumping as the sound of distant shouting faded behind them. Several sleek black cars, headlights cutting through the dark, pulled up in front of them.

Four leaned out the driver’s side window of the lead car, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as ever. “Get in. Now.”

Behind his car, other vehicles packed with their men pulled up, forming a protective barrier between them and the building.

Without hesitation, Time opened the back door and ushered (y/n) in first, followed by Wind and Sky. He slid in last, pulling the door shut behind him. Four hit the gas, and the car sped off, the others falling into formation behind them.

(y/n) leaned her head back against the seat, trying to catch her breath. Her heart was racing, her arms still trembling. “Oh, come on!” she finally burst out, her voice cracking with exhaustion and frustration. “Of course Emilio’s mafia! Of course nothing in this stupid city is normal!”

Sky, seated next to her, glanced over with a small, understanding smile. He reached out and gently placed his hand on hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. His calm voice broke through her spiraling thoughts. “Hey, you’re safe now. That’s what matters. Just breathe. You did great back there.”

Her breathing slowed as his words settled over her, her grip on the pot starting to loosen-until Sky tilted his head slightly and added, “Though… you’re still holding onto the iron pot.”

(y/n) blinked, looking down at the pot like she’d forgotten it was there. Her shoulders sagged as she stared at it for a long moment. Then, in a flat, deadpan voice, she looked back up at Sky and said, “I’m keeping it.”

Wind, sitting in the far seat, tried to stifle his laughter through the comms. “She’s adopting a kitchen utensil. Classic.”

Four’s voice cut in over the car’s speaker, dry as ever. “It’s probably sturdier than most of our weapons at this point.”

(y/n) huffed and hugged the pot closer to her chest, glaring at the lot of them. “You laugh now, but this pot saved Time’s life. It’s earned its place.”

Sky held up his hands in surrender, smiling softly. “Fair enough. Just don’t name it.”

(y/n) grumbled, muttering something about ‘Stainless Steve’ under her breath as the car sped toward safety.

——

The car ride back was filled with (y/n)’s assurances that she was fine, though she kept hugging the iron pot like a security blanket. “Seriously, guys, I’m fine,” she said for the third time, looking between Time, Sky, and Four. “No one died, I didn’t get shot, and I’m home safe. That’s a win in my book.”

Sky gave her a worried glance, but (y/n) waved him off. “I’ll call you in the morning, Time.” she promised, her voice tired but steady. “If there’s any trouble tonight, just let me know.”

Time nodded, his expression softening just a bit. “We’ll be fine. I will always worry. You just get some rest.”

As Four pulled up to her house, (y/n) got out with the iron pot still in her hands, giving the group a tired wave as they drove off. She smiled faintly when she saw Wind hanging halfway out the window, waving enthusiastically. “Bye, (y/n)!” he shouted, “Happy New Year!” only to yelp as Sky yanked him back into the car by the collar.

Shaking her head, she walked up to her front door, unlocked it, and stepped inside. Her mom was there in the living room, walking over with a warm smile. “Hey, sweetie. How was the gala?”

At that, (y/n) sniffled, her resolve finally cracking. She pressed her face into her mom’s shoulder, shaking as the weight of the night caught up with her. Her mom froze for a second, surprised, before wrapping her arms around her daughter. She could feel the dampness on her shoulder and (y/n)’s quiet sniffles.

Whatever happened, her baby needed comfort, so she just held her tighter.

“What’s wrong, honey?” her mom asked softly.

“Mmmph,” (y/n) mumbled into her shoulder.

Her mom tilted her head, stroking her hair. “What was that?”

Pulling her face away just enough to be heard, (y/n) blurted out, “I’m friends with absolute jerks!”

Her mom blinked in confusion, only for (y/n) to launch into a tired, almost comical rant. “Do you know what happens every time I’m with them? Shenanigans! Absolute shenanigans! I knew I should’ve stayed home, Mom. I knew it!”

Her mom blinked again, trying to figure out if she was supposed to be concerned or amused. It didn’t sound like (y/n) was actually upset, more like she was venting out of sheer frustration.

Finally, (y/n) sighed deeply, slumping her shoulders. “I just needed to get that out of my system,” she admitted.

Her mom gave her another hug, patting her back. “Well, good news-you’re just in time to celebrate New Year’s with us!”

(y/n) blinked, pulling back slightly. “What? Mom, it’s after midnight.”

As if on cue, her younger sister Jack walked by, picked up the wall clock and turned it around, manually turning it back an hour. “Dinner’s almost ready.” Jack called out bluntly before disappearing into the kitchen.

Their dad walked in next, pulling (y/n) into a big bear hug. “Go change and get comfortable,” he said with a grin. “I got your favorite sparklers and cake. We’re celebrating properly tonight.”

Tears welled up in (y/n)’s eyes again, but this time they were happy ones. She nodded, her body finally relaxing completely. “Thanks, Dad.” she whispered, her voice soft but grateful.

“Anything for my girl.” he said, ruffling her hair before walking off to help Jack in the kitchen.

(y/n) sniffled again, looking between her mom, dad, and sister, feeling the tension of the night finally ease away.

This.

This was exactly what she needed.

So much better than going to a Gala.

….

She wasn’t gonna get school credit for going, UGH!

—-

The chain was gathered back at their base, still tense but trying to regroup. Everyone was either sitting around the meeting table or leaning against walls, tired but alert. Four had his laptop open, typing away as the others traded updates on the night.

“Emilio didn’t even follow us,” Sky said, breaking the silence. “It didn’t sit right. He’s not the type to just let something go.”

“He didn’t need to.” Warriors muttered, arms crossed. “He thought he had us.”

Wild, sitting on the edge of the table, raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Four looked up from his laptop, his face grim. “Our men sent over some footage. Emilio wasn’t following us because he had other plans.”

He turned the laptop toward the group and hit play. The room went silent as Emilio’s face filled the screen, furious and shouting at his men. His words hit like a punch to the gut.

“Find them! Take them out!” Emilio yelled in the video, holding a switch in his hand. “They’re nothing! A small group of fools, and they’re winning? Kill them all! Bury them in rubble!”

Time’s face was unreadable, but his grip on his cane tightened as the footage showed Emilio pressing the button repeatedly. The room stayed silent as the realization sank in.

“That bastard planted explosives,” Twilight said, his voice low and dangerous. “He was going to take out the whole building.”

“He was going to take us all out,” Sky corrected, his voice tight. “Everyone in that building…gone.”

“(Y/n) was in there,” Wild said, his tone sharp. “She would’ve-“

“She didn’t,” Time cut him off, his voice calm but heavy. “None of us did.”

“But why didn’t it happen?” Hyrule asked, looking around. “The explosives didn’t go off.”

Four turned back to his screen, pulling up another video. “Because while we were dealing with him and his men, someone else was dealing with him too. Watch this.”

The second video showed Emilio again, but this time, his rage was directed at the switch in his hand. He pressed it over and over, cursing loudly when nothing happened. The scene shifted to chaos,explosions, but not in the gala. It was Emilio’s bases going up in flames.

“No one else was targeted,” Four said, leaning back in his chair. “Whoever did this wanted Emilio to lose everything. And they did it.”

The group sat in stunned silence, watching the flames consume Emilio’s properties on the screen.

“Whoever this was,” Legend said after a moment, his tone uneasy, “they were…thorough.”

“And they knew exactly what they were doing,” Warriors added. “They waited for the perfect moment.”

“But why?” Wind asked, his voice almost a whisper. “Why go after Emilio like that? And why not target us?”

He paused and stared at the footage again.

“….Heck of a way to start the new year ya know.”

“Indeed.” Time said, his gaze dropping to the table, his thoughts clearly turning. “We weren’t the target. Not tonight. ”

Sky let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. “So Emilio was outplayed. Completely blindsided. But by who?”

“We don’t know,” Four admitted. “No patterns, no leads, nothing. At least not yet.

“But if Emilio’s plan had worked…” Hyrule’s voice trailed off, the weight of what could’ve been hanging in the air. “We wouldn’t be here.”

“Especially (y/n),” Twilight said quietly. “She wouldn’t have made it out in time.”

Time stood up, his cane steady as he looked around the room. “We don’t tell her. Not now. She doesn’t need to know how close it was.”

The others nodded reluctantly, though the unease was clear. Whoever had stepped in tonight had saved them, but it didn’t feel like a favor. It felt like a warning. And no one liked that one bit.

——

The living room was quiet except for the low hum of the TV playing some badly made movie no one cared to finish. (Y/n) and Jack were curled up on the couch, fast asleep. Leftover snacks were scattered on the coffee table, and a few stray crumbs clung to the blanket draped over them.

The mist floated in silently, barely noticeable as it moved around the room. It paused by the couch, hovering over (y/n) like it was studying her. A soft, almost musical chime sounded, so faint it could’ve been mistaken for part of the movie.

“Warmth… Home… Heart…” The words were barely a whisper, carried on an unseen breeze as the mist seemed to brighten slightly. It moved closer to (y/n), swirling gently around her before stopping by the blanket.

The blanket shifted, as though an invisible hand was carefully pulling it up to cover both her and Jack properly. The air felt warmer, cozier, as if the room itself was tucking them in.

“Keep safe…always…”

A quiet giggle echoed, soft and playful, as the mist swirled one last time. Then it vanished, leaving no trace but the lingering sense of comfort. It wasn’t gone, though. It was there, watching over (y/n), ready to protect her all night long.

The room settled back into stillness, with only the flickering light of the TV casting shadows over the peaceful scene.

———

(Happy New Year folks!)

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alsoprettyinpink · 4 months ago

Text

Holy shit I can’t believe I finally finished this. It’s been a while and I preface this by saying I’m not a writer. After watching Deadpool Wolverine, I realized that I needed to come back to tumblr to share in the fandom that is Wolverine/Logan. Not knowing all that I was getting into. I found some amazing fan fiction writers that also reminded me of my younger days and I figured I’d try it again. So here’s my filthy writing. Big thanks to @silverskyeline for honestly giving me the courage to post this. I nervous. Please comment if you liked it or whatever. I’ll add I did not edit the smut cause I got silly embarrassed. Sorry in advance. I’ll do better I promise.

Logan/Wolverine X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.6K

Tags: MDNI 18+, smut after the fluff I guess, P in V, unprotected (this is fiction so be safe), he's never pulling out, oral (F receiving), idk, bathroom and classroom sessions,

Summary: You are a new teacher at Xavier's institute, and you find your neighbor teacher, Logan, pretty attractive. There's a flyer for chaperones needed for the homecoming dance. Can you muster up the courage to ask him? What's the spark in his eye? Is it...lust?

A/N: During the dance scene, I highly recommend listening to Benson Boone’s Beautiful Things. Enjoy.

It was finally fall. One of your favorite seasons. The weather was finally cool enough for you to leave your hair down. Cool breezes dance through the changing foliage around the campus. The orange, red and some yellow ginkgo leaves flutter as you and many others return to campus. A fall greeting from mother nature herself.

You were a teacher for Charles this semester after he somewhat guilted you into doing it. You weren’t sure if this was going to be the right fit for you. The refreshing air however, made you forget that was even a thought. Instead it made you feel confident. He asked if you could teach art. You weren’t sure as to all that would entail, you just figured you could just be the cool art teacher. You had the look down; ponytail, large glasses and a patient attitude. You knew a change was in your future, whether it was your need to constantly reinvent yourself or just tired of the same routine. The season was ready for you.

You set up in your classroom, knowing that the history teacher was on the other side of the wall. Mr. Logan Howlett. You were unsure how much he really cared about teaching, you were unsure where he stood anywhere. A man of few words and grunts. You heard that he’d been alive for almost 200 years, so he knew the ins and outs of history. The truth about events that hadn’t been erased or only told from the victor’s perspective. You chuckled at the idea of his gruff and blunt perspective. Thinking of how he taught his class. How intimidating he must have come across.

You had met him a few times around the campus, knowing he was The Wolverine; one of the X-men. Feisty, brooding, no nonsense kinda guy…your thoughts trailed as you found yourself thinking of him more fondly. He was such an attractive man. His dark features, his muscular build. When he would walk by in the mornings before class, cup of coffee in hand, he’d wave and give you a faint smile...maybe it was a grimace. There were times that you didn’t see him, but he always saw you. You would be rearranging your classroom or you would be smiling reading a book, but he’d see you.

“Mr. Howlett.” You greeted, meeting him in the teacher’s lounge. You were a bit startled seeing him up close and personal, but the lure of coffee was too strong. He grunted as per usual going through the cupboard trying to find his favorite mug. “Call me Logan.” He spoke.

“If you don’t mind, on campus I have to keep it professional, Mr. Howlett. Maybe if I see you outside of school, I’ll drop the honorifics.” You responded smiling although you were nervous. You couldn’t help it. That was just how you operated at work; professional. He grunted again, still searching for a specific mug. “Ugh,” he muttered to himself. “This will just have to do.” He picked one that said, “Without Art the Earth Would Just Be ‘eh’” with rainbows going around the image of earth.

You chuckled seeing such a burly man with a silly cup. “What?” He snapped turning to you, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing so he could hurry up and end this torment.

“Sorry…That’s one of mine that I brought. It’s a silly one.” You find another one you brought, pulling it out of the cabinet. It was a rather large, light brown and dark brown body with a small sculpted face. It’s nose was pointed with beady eyes and large fat cheeks.

“What the fuck is that supposed to be?” He asked, concerned.

You looked at the mug again, smiling because you were sure it was a gift from someone, “I think it’s a hedgehog.” You responded, chuckling again just looking at its little stupid smiling face brought you so much joy.

The coffee was done brewing and you were positive so was this special interaction with Xavier’s finest teacher.

“It’s like a 20oz so it gets the job done.” you added, beckoning Logan to go first. He leaned with his hip to the counter, arms crossed, “Naw, you first darlin’.”

Darlin’?

You weren’t ready for that. You could feel the flush of your cheeks and the tips of your ears. You were hoping he wouldn’t notice. Quickly pouring some for yourself, you offered to pour his cup too. He thanked you, while you opened the fridge for creamer.

A flyer tagged to the fridge caught your eye. “Oh there’s a homecoming dance coming up? That’s so cute!” You exclaimed. “They'll probably need chaperones.” You muttered to yourself.

Your mind reminisced about your high school dances and how much fun you had at them. Hearing stories of others drinking or fooling around as high school kids tend to do, you sighed. Logan looked over at you drinking his black coffee. “You’re not thinking of going to that are you?” His brow was arched high as he spoke in disgust, his voice rough as if just being alive was torment.

“I’ve never been a chaperone before, but I just remembered how much I loved going to my high school dances. I went to every one!”

Your cheeriness seemed to amuse him and probably confuse him too. You couldn’t tell by looking at him, but the fact that he was still entertaining a conversation was making your heart flutter. Anxious, you asked him if he would make an appearance, already knowing his answer.

“Hell no! I ain’t trying to be here around those kids longer than I have to be.” He grabbed his (your) mug and headed back to his room, “See ya later, have a good day.” He added raising his hand up as he left.

You swallowed the dry lump that had formed in your throat. Your hands were a bit shaky, as you took a sip of that liquid gold. You awaited for the caffeine to fuel your body as it coursed through your veins. However, you immediately grimaced spitting the coffee back into your oversized cartoon mug. “He made jet fuel.” No amount of sugar or creamer would make that taste good. You sighed, disappointedly, and you poured it out and the pot to make a new one.

——————————————————————

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The same basic conversations with your neighbor teacher, Logan. You sighed out of frustration not really sure how you wanted to continue whatever this was. We’re you friends? We’re you just coworkers? You had some flirty banter with him, but you didn’t want to make it more than what it was. You also didn’t know too much about him still, despite your small talk efforts. He did converse with you despite you feeling like you were the main one engaged in said conversation. What you didn’t know was that he would watch you teach your class at first thinking that these kids needed something more important than art. However, he had to eat his words when one of them bested him during a training session, using something they had learned in your class. Sure you taught painting and other art forms, but he didn’t realize that creativity could make the kids turn into a modern day MacGuyver.

During a class, you were teaching about art in advertisements, you saw your students eyes glancing over to the window of the door. You turned your head and there he was. His eyes flinched as he tried to play cool, but you think he didn’t expect you to see him. “Ok, read this page and the next!” You opened your door and quietly closed it behind you.

“Are you ok, Mr. Howlett? Do you need something?” You asked in a slight whisper, Logan seemed tensed. He acted like you had caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, although he seemed so cool about it though. You couldn’t really read him well. “Uh…no, I’m fine. Just… admiring your class. I’ll tell you later.” And he walked off with a turn of his heel. You watched him walk away like a sad puppy being left at home. Your eyes drank up his frame staring at his dark hair, red flannel, and those luscious jeans. Damn did they fit him well. You went back into your class expecting silence but they were awaiting your return.

“OOOoooOOO!” The class exclaimed. “Do you liiiiikkeee him?” One of the girl students mocked teasingly. Snapping back to reality, you whipped your head around, waving them off. “Mr. Howlett is a friend, Sarah. You wouldn’t like it if I asked you in front of everyone if you like Roberto?”

“Ew! I don’t like him!” And then the class erupted in laughter.

“Settle! Settle! Or I will give you a pop quiz!” A hush fell over the class.

“I’ll raise the anti!” Another student snarked. “I dare you to ask him to the homecoming dance. If you do, regardless of his answer, we’ll take your pop quiz!”

These little instigators!

“Fine, I‘ll ask him! Pop quiz. Books closed! Take out a piece of paper and something to write with.”

——————————————

After school, you decided to stay after a bit to get some grading done. You were sitting at your desk rubbing your temples. You could feel a headache coming down. Getting teased and called out by teenagers was not on your bingo card. Surprisingly enough, a good portion of them did really well on their pop quiz and it made you so proud of them.

The hedgehog mug was placed on your desk by a strong hand and a loud thud. Looking up, you saw Logan. His expression stern and void of any joy “Oh! Thanks.”

“It’s water.” He said bluntly. “You look like you got a headache comin’ on, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink water…” and he dropped some small brown pills next to you.

You groaned and took a sip. You hated the fact that he knew you well enough that he knew you were dehydrated and most likely over caffeinated.

“Are you really gonna go to that stupid dance next week?” He asked, his brows slightly furrowed. His usual gravely voice tinged with annoyance.

“Yeah,” you started putting the mug down on your desk, “You wanna go with me?” You asked not missing a beat. This way it was honoring your promise to your students while still feeling like a cool girl. Not a woman who was nervous about asking her coworker to the high school homecoming dance. And then if he said ‘no’ your feelings wouldn't be hurt cause you didn't put in any effort. No build up, no romanticism, just two friends talking.

He winced as if he was in physical pain. He ran his fingers back through his dark brown hair sighing heavily.

“Fine. I'll go with ya.” He responded flatly, folding his arms. Your brain had already processed a ‘No’. The hard pulse of your heart beating heavy in your chest, the dryness of your eyes as they widen when you realize, actually, what he had said.

“I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to.” You felt as if your heart was coming out of your throat. You swallowed hard hoping he would ignore your hint of ‘you-can-reconsider-your-decision’.

“Naw princess, I'm a man of my word. I'll go with you…ugh,” he shifted weight to his hip. “Just don't expect me to dance or nothin’.”

Princess?!

“Cool. Got it. You'll be a beautiful wallflower.” You chuckled, really still trying to play cool, sipping the water he got for you trying not to choke.

He can read you like a book.

He cleared his throat, “Mm, I don't think I'll compare to how pretty you'll prolly look.”

Is….is HE blushing???!! Wait…am I blushing?? Fuckfuckfuck.

You cleared your throat, looking back at the stack of papers in front of you. “Well, I'll leave it to ya. I hope you feel better, Ms. Y/N.”

You smiled to yourself as he was already walking away. “Thanks Mr. Howlett.”

——————

You were getting ready at the institute being that it was easier than going home, getting ready and then coming all the way back. You couldn’t believe that Logan was willing to go to the dance with you. You were pretty sure it was a pity agreement or something. You knew he didn’t really want to go but he agreed to go with you…why? You finished doing your makeup in the mirror, made cute faces, sexy faces, pouty faces and smiling faces at yourself, just to make sure you knew how you looked.

You brushed out your dress. It was a wine colored, A-line dress with a boat neck and short puffy lantern sleeves. A slit off to the side to show a little leg, but still modest. Your hair was down, with one side pinned back to keep out of your face. Your earrings were small dangles and sparkly to catch the light and a simple necklace for a clean look.

“You can do this!” You said placing both hands on the sink staring deeply at yourself in the mirror. “He's just a man… A mutant man, but a man nonetheless. You're just friends, nothing more. This isn't a date or anything. Just friendly co-workers going to chaperone a school dance that you both work at…”

Fuck I'm anxious. Maybe a little gummy to ease my nerves.

You dug into your tiny purse for that last 1:1 gummy that always got you in the best mood. Relaxed and not stressed…and maybe just a little bit high. But not that they would notice.

You walked out of the bathroom finally. You and Logan didn't really communicate about when and where you all would meet up or if you would just meet there. You wished there was alcohol served for the adults.

You checked your phone and didn't see any messages from him or calls. Let's be real, if he called you'd be hesitant to answer.

You finally had to admit it to yourself that you liked him. You were crushing on him hard as if you were a teen again. He was all you ever thought about, his blips in the teacher's lounge or when he would nod at you through the door made your heart swell.

Sometimes during your planning period you could hear him teaching. You had grown fond of listening to his voice. One particular time, your imagination had taken you through constant interactions, conversations, situations…some verged on dirty. You could hear him talking to you. His strong hands gripping your waist and pulling you close to him. His lips close to yours, as his one hand leaves your waist and cups your face. you're both taking shallow breaths with anticipation of the next move. Frozen in place, all you can do is watch him glide through air as his thumb caressed the apple of your cheek. It was almost like you were holding your breath in this fantasy as he pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss. His grip around your waist; possessive. Other thoughts, he had you bent over his desk as he took you from behind. His relentless thrusts into your tight, wet, pussy as you moaned his name and grasped at papers. You remembered gasping coming back to reality and uncrossing your legs and adjusting yourself in your chair. You heard him sniffing on the other side of the wall. You turned slightly looking at your chalkboard knowing he couldn't see you…but you felt like you could feel his intense gaze on you through the wall.

You found yourself standing outside his classroom now. Clutching on to your purse, you tried to imagine him teaching. Really trying to ignore the desk and papers that were neatly stacked upon it. His half-lidded hazel eyes on you, paired with a devilish smirk, papers flying everywhere.

“Oh, you're here.” His gravelly voice startled and pulled you from the depths of your imagination.

“Sorry we never discussed where to meet, but I had a feelin’ You'd be… here.” His pause made you notice his eyes flickered up and down. It made your cheeks flush and your heart flutter.

Taking in his attire, you were thoroughly impressed with how well he cleaned up; He looked so good. Black shoes, jeans, a leather belt, a white button up, and a brown corduroy blazer. The need to speak was needed, for you felt too much time had passed since the last word was said.

“No, I'm sorry. I should have expressed where-”

“You look beautiful.” He interjected softly. You could tell that doling compliments wasn’t his strongest suit but he did mean what he said.

You felt heat rise into your cheeks. “Ah, thank you, Mr. Howlett. You look great too…as always.”

”Please call me Logan tonight.“ he rasped, staring you down. His gaze never leaving yours. You felt your heart speed up in your chest, and a twinge in your interior.

He took a step closer to you, a gasp wanting to escape your lips, but didn’t. His lips parted, as the back of his hand tucked strands of your hair behind your ear. His calloused fingertips unraveled around your ear down to your jaw and making their way to your chin. Time seemed to have stopped for you. You could hear your rushed pulse vibrating in your ear. Your eyes darted back and forth between his. Your mouth parched, lips parted, and your breath caught in your lungs, as he caressed your face.

“Hey guys! The chaperones are gathering now to usher in students if you want to make your way over!” Scott yelled from the other end of the hallway. If anyone was going to ruin a moment it was always, always going to be Scott. Immediately, you took a step back, grounding yourself. The trance breaking. You could see the annoyance trickling across his face as he turned to face Scott.

“Yeah we’ll be headin’ over soon, Summers.” He yelled back over, still mentally fixed on you. Your own`` mind raced with thoughts of how you were going to restart this. You wanted him to kiss you, if…that's what he was trying to do.

He cleared his throat, holding his arm out for you to hold on to. “Shall we, doll?” His expression changed to a relaxed smile. His gruff exterior seemed to still be present to others, but when he was around you, he seemed relaxed. You placed your arm around his trying not to smile too hard. You didn’t want to lose your cool. His arms were strong as he held onto you. A part of you wanted your ankle to give out just so he could catch you, and then maybe he’d finished what he started before Scott interjected. But you couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t allow yourself to do that. A smile pulled at the corners of your lips, hoping he didn’t notice.

When you both walked into the cafeteria the Student Government Association had done such an excellent job decorating and preparing for this. They had streamers and iridescent decorations that seemed to sparkle as they hung from the ceiling. Towards the back there was a punch table which is where you and Logan headed over to. You took it upon yourself to monitor the punch table to ensure they didn’t run out of cups or none of the students spiked it.

As the doors opened and the students came in, your heart swelled seeing them all in their lovely clothes. To be young again, a sigh escaped your lips, thinking of the times when you were in the same situation as them. The heat of the dance floor, sometimes the heartbreak of seeing your crush dancing with another, the wallflowers, the anxiety of asking someone to dance with you. Honestly, you loved all the feelings. These kids were special. They dealt with a different type of prejudice, but at least in this moment, none of that mattered. Just having a good fun time with friends.

The music however had much to be desired. The kids were grinding on each other and kinda made you feel a touch uncomfortable, but it all looked safe and everyone looked like they were having fun. Logan came over by you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He took a swig of something out of the corner of your eye. Here you were again, heart racing from the thought of him touching you. He hadn’t touched you until today, but you never wanted him to stop. Taking a double take and noticing his flask, you quickly found yourself facing him,as if you were trying to block others from seeing what he was doing. Without consciously noticing, he hooked his arm around your waist pulling you ever so close to him. You moved with the gesture, not registering in your mind, as if you have done this before and it’s normal for the two of you to be so close. A lazy smile tugged at the corners of his lips while his heavy lidded eyes stayed on you. His brow arched as you spoke.

“Mr. Howlett!” You whispered, “Are you drinking alcohol?” A grin broke through upon his lips. “You’re one to talk doll.” He whispered right back. He got really close to your face, your heart beating almost out of your chest. He was so close, he smelled so nice you could feel yourself becoming a bit dizzy from the emotion of it all. Just when you thought he was going to kiss you, he whispered in your ear instead, his lips grazing the cartilage. “I know you ate a weed gummy. I can smell it on you.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you leaned away from him, his grip still tight around you. “Look, I just needed something to keep this interesting.” He spoke, his face turning pink just slightly.

He could smell it on you? What else could he smell? Those gummies smelled like nothing. They were in leak proof bags. But…what “else” could he smell.

Your face flushed as your brows met. “You must've seen me eat one. You can't smell those.” He scoffed at your accusation wanting nothing more than to confess everything he can smell on you but he figured he'd explain later.

You looked around to note no other chaperone was near you. “What’s your poison?”

A sinful smirk danced across his lips again. “Whiskey…you want some?” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a rather large metal flask. Your face lit up and you nodded.

“Don’t tell anyone.” You pleaded as he handed you his flask and you took a quick swig. It burned your mouth and the back of your throat, but it also warmed your soul. You weren’t a whiskey drinker at all, but you wanted to be one if that meant you had something in common with him. You took another swig this time longer, quickly shoving it back in his coat, and straightening out his jacket. Pressing out his jacket made his aroma waft through your senses. The scent of whiskey, pine, cedar and tobacco filled your nostrils and made your head spin. You couldn't believe you were touching him, the corduroy of his jacket felt so nice against your fingertips. You stared at his shirt, seeing the ribs of the white tank he wore underneath it. You hadn’t noticed but his eyes were affixed to you; watching you touch him, watching you getting lost in your thoughts as he had seen you do before. He thoroughly enjoyed you touching him. He gently rolled your head up with his index and thumb on your chin “You think too much. Relax, darlin’”

Your face flushed now mostly from the alcohol. Not to mention your edible was starting to kick in.

“Ohhhhhohoho! Look at teach!” One of your students spoke out. Immediately you froze and broke his hold around you. You hadn't realized he was holding you close to him for you were lost in your own crude thoughts. Words escaped your brain as you worried what they might say, but then you thought who cares? You were only concerned about rumors that could swirl around the school. Your reputation meant everything to you. To prove that you belonged…That you deserved to be there.

You looked over at Logan, thanked him for the drink and focused your attention to the floor. Your gaze searching and making sure the students were ok and having fun. Your mind was elsewhere however. Dizzy, drunk from his touch, his scent, and your edible kicking in. You felt a twinge, a heat building up in your thighs. You exhaled and tried to regain composure. You glanced at the perimeter of the room, seeing the other chaperones enjoying their time, drinking the punch, talking and laughing.

Fully feeling your vices, you found yourself by the wall bouncing along to the music; bobbing your head while holding your drink in your hand. You looked around searching for Logan. Just a glance to see what he was up to. No luck. It made you pout. You were feeling your emotions building up inside of you like a volcano about to erupt. Finally a break in your thoughts shattered through when you heard that new pop song you loved. It was almost a 180 in you. You became excited and danced in place and sang along with the words. You raised that cup in the air and swayed your hips. It filled your heart to feel that beat in your body, even more so since you were under the influence.

Logan had stepped outside for a smoke break, and when he returned he saw you really enjoying yourself. It brought a smile to his lips. He walked up to you, hands in his pockets, relaxed. “You’re having fun.” He spoke with his gruff exterior held up and a smile. You turned to him still bouncing to the beat, “Ohmygod yes! I love this song.” Calming down just a bit, not wanting to seem childish or immature to him, you took a sip of your non-alcoholic punch. You finally admitted to yourself that you liked him. You really, really, liked him and you hoped that he returned your feelings. But being his friend was second best.

“Oh? Well, let’s take you out on the floor then.” He suggested holding his hand out for you to take. You stood there, a bit stunned and unsure. He read your face as if he could read your mind, “When a pretty girl asks you to a dance, you dance. I didn’t come here for nothin’” he added with a smirk. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute. It made you think everything over; replaying in your mind on fast forward. You placed your drink down, and took his hand.

His hand was rough, calloused and his grip was tight as if he didn’t, you’d float away. He pulled you close to him again, and in rom-com true fashion, the song changed. The lights slowed and were dimmed low. He looked up and sighed at the change. “Of course…” he muttered. However his ears pricked back when he heard the song Beautiful Things play. He wasn’t sure of the artist but he enjoyed it the few times he had heard it. His brow furrowed, not sure how to dance to this slow pop song. He was going to figure it out.

His arm still around your waist and the other still holding your hand. Gently he swayed you side to side. Neither of you spoke. Only being present in the moment. His gaze held yours and yours were fixed to his.

And I hold you every night

And that's a feeling I wanna get used to

But there's no man as terrified

As the man who stands to lose you

Your sways turned into a spin. When he pulled you back to him, your eyes met. Your eyes darted between his hazel eyes almost luring you even closer to him. He dropped your hand as both his hands wrapped around your waist and yours, made their way around his shoulders pulling you both into each other. That feeling returned to your lower body as you swallowed the dry lump that formed in your throat. Your heart raced even faster and given your proximity, you knew he could feel it.

Oh, I hope I don't lose you

The lights were sparkling around you, adding just an extra layer of magic. You rolled your lips, trying so hard not to pick the skin off your luscious berry tinted lips.

Please stay

He took a quick breath in, his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something. You tried to speak, to tell him everything, all the feels but you couldn’t find the courage to do so.

I want you, I need you, oh God

Don't take

“Can I kiss you?” He asked deep and low. Your eyes widened not expecting him to ask you anything let alone that. Words escaped you and all you could do was nod.

At that moment, the world seemed to standstill. You didn’t even care if any of your students saw you. You didn’t care if other teachers saw you. This moment, it was just you and Logan.

These beautiful things that I've got

The song seemed to come to a huge climax which only made your heart flutter as his hand held your chin up, his lips pressed on to yours. Fireworks seemed to go off in your brain. You closed your eyes just being in the moment. Feeling his warm lips against yours was everything you thought it would be. Your eyes rolled behind your eyelids as you took a deep inhale through your nose. Your hand draped around his neck, pulled him closer into you. Your hungry and needy return made a growl creep up from his broad chest. His tongue pushed his way into your desperate mouth as he watched through his lashes. You no longer thought about anything else. His intensity pushed your back a couple steps. Your free hand reaching behind you, trying to feel for the wall to brace yourself.

His lips dragged from yours down to your jaw, to your pulse point, to the nape of your neck; a trail of hot kisses behind them. His lips parted as he tasted your skin. A soft moan escaped your lips as you found yourself pulling his face from his new favorite spot. His eyes were filled with lustful thoughts. “…not here…” you spoke before his lips found yours again. Your fingers applied pressure along his temples, gliding through his hair. His hands now wandered down your hips, grabbing your ass. He pulled from your lips begrudgingly, only now comprehending your words. He placed his hand up against the wall near your flushed face, fighting his urges to keep going for the moment.

“Yeah, you’re right…” he huffed. There wasn’t much blood in his brain to think of a secluded place. You grabbed his hand and led him out of the cafeteria. Down a hallway in the direction of the classrooms; He was becoming impatient, irrational…feral. His need for you, growing uncontrollably. When you paused in your steps, he pulled you into the bathroom adjacent to you both. His mouth found yours as soon as that door opened. Locking it behind him, he quickly closed the gap between you and the corner of the sinks and a wall. His sultry gaze looked over you, enjoying the sight and sound of you on the other side. His hands wandered up your stomach, to your breasts. He palmed them, running the side of his thumb over your hard nipples through your bra. “…fuck…” he muttered through your lips.

Your hand fiddled with his belt, undoing it along with the zipper of his slacks. Your other hand ran down his clothed chest, feeling ever chiseled muscle. You freed his throbbing cock from the confinements of his boxer briefs, gently stroking the entire length.

Fuck, he’s big

He shuddered from your touch. His brows furrowed as you sped up only focusing with your fingertips, teasing the tip coated with pearled precum with your thumb. He moved your hand from him, picking your legs up with his arms pulling them around his waist, making you lean back for leverage up against the wall. His tip teasing the outside of your pussy through your already wet panties. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, holding on for security.

“Don’t worry baby, I got ‘cha.” He grunted out. His one hand snaked up the back of your dress. His eyes searched yours as he felt the zipper. He leaned in as his lips sat on top of yours almost to steal your breath away. “May I?”

“Yes, please…do it” you responded so deprived. Your hands cupped his bristled cheeks as you pulled him in for another hungry kiss. Another growl rumbled in his chest as his hand slowly pulled the zipper down. The sound echoed in your ear drums as his lips found your neck again, gently sinking his teeth into your neck.

“Ahh, fuck Logan!” You jolted knowing you were going to have a mark there later. A reminder that this was real. Not one of your fantasies. He pulled away for a moment, admiring his mark against your skin.

“Uh uh. I’m Mr. Howlett, remember?” His voice deep and doused with lust. He pulled your arms out of the sleeves of your dress, and pulled it down, freeing your breasts. “Fuck you’re beautiful.” He uttered, admiring you. His warm mouth encapsulated your nipple as his other hand found your clit. You threw your head back, your hips jolting. His wet tongue ran over your nipple as he sucked on it. His finger delicately ran small circles on your clit. Your breathing became more shallow, his name floating off your lips as a prayer.

He hummed, slipping your nipple from his lips, “Say it again” his tongue flicked over your other nipple as you gasped. Your head dizzy, your cheeks hot, you managed to speak, “Mr. Howlett….” You moaned softly. It seemed to stir something within him. Hearing you say his name like that, turned him on even more.

He could feel how soaked you were between your folds. His fingers slipped down to coat his fingers in your wetness. “God, I’ve been thinking about this.” He admits in the valley of your tits.

“Me too…for far too long.”

“I’ll buy you a new pair…” he responds, staring into your eyes. Confusion paints your face, suddenly you feel cold metal against your pelvis. A small blade came from his hand as you felt your panties becoming taut and then riiiiiiippp.

He looks into you again. At this point, you feel like you can read minds. His eyes searched yours to get confirmation that this was happening. You moistened your lips and held onto your bottom lip. He leaned his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. You both allowed gravity to assist. Effortlessly, you slid right on to him, taking him deep to the hilt. You hissed a curse as you felt yourself suck him in. He held you there for you to adjust to him. His head went to his new favorite spot as his hot breath tickled your neck. He gritted his teeth as he slowly thrusted into you. The tight, slick of your folds made his head spin. The scent of you and your arousal made him thrust a bit faster. Your whimpers and whines echoed in the warm lit space alongside the squelching and sounds of skin slapping against each other.

“Fuck…” he muttered, “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You couldn’t explain the tightness that you were feeling in your lower abdomen, but you knew what it meant.

“Oooo, if you keep…doing that…fuck…” you panted; your chest rising and falling with every thrust trying not to be heard. But he wasn’t having it. You were going to be loud and you were going to cum. He slowed down his pace, edging himself and most likely you. From the base of his throbbing cock, inch by inch of his shaft pulled from you, covered in your juices, until the tip teased at your entrance again. Repeat.

He slowly pushed back into you, inch by inch of his veined shaft, until he could feel your ass on his balls. Logan could feel you clench around him.

“Doin’ what, baby?” His lips grazed the edge of your ear which only made the feeling in your pussy twinge. He chuckled, looking back into your eyes.

“Tell me,” he started, still slowly stroking you, making sure your clit was still being stimulated even if for a few moments of his pelvis hitting yours. The brisk air making it tingle. “There was a time, a few months ago…I was teachin’ and I could smell you. As if you were right there with me…” he held his position, deep in you; grinding his hips slowly. “What were you thinking about?”

You couldn’t think. Your eyes were closed as the back of your hand graced your face. You were completely lost in the amount of pleasure only wanting to focus on chasing your orgasm. Then it clicked. The memory flashed in your mind.

”You.” Whispering back into his ear. He looked in your eyes as a devilish smirk grew across his face. Full grin, he continued to slowly stroke you.

“What about me?”

You rolled your eyes, needing him to stop teasing you. No need to be shy now.

“You fucking me on your desk…bent over.” You managed to say. His pace sped up, his cock throbbing even more now. That thought almost sent him over the edge.

You couldn’t hold back anymore. His thrust were pushing you closer and closer to your own release. His length hitting the spongey spot. “Fuckfuckfuck…Imma…Imma” you mewled which only urged him to speed up even more. The twinge in your lower abdomen built up until you felt the electric shock travel throughout you. Logan groaned as his lips swallowed your moans. His thrusts became short and spaced out, quick bucks of his hips. You held on to him tighter as you moaned even louder knowing the twitch of his cock in you only meant one thing.

You both tried to catch your breath, panting like dogs in the summer heat. He held you close to him, still twitching inside of you.

“Fuck…I’m sorry” he murmured his voice raspy and dry.

Your eyes searched over his, wondering what he was apologizing for. Was he regretting this moment with you. Crossing the lines of being co-workers? Friends?

”You’re thinking too much.” He spoke again, studying the lines of your face. His eyes flickered down to where you both connected.

Your face flushed again, as you felt his seed drip from you. “Oh…that…that’s ok. Birth control ya know?” You said winking at him. His seemingly concerned face slowly turned into one of someone plotting something naughty. You seemed more in tune with him and his thoughts. Maybe he was allowing you to read him better.

He pulled your dress up to cover your beautiful breasts, as he carried you freely out of the bathroom and to his classroom. You held onto him, pressing your torso against his. “What are you doing?!”

“I need you darlin’” he stated pressing his lips against yours. Salt coated his face as strays of his hair tickled your forehead. His passion calmed a bit to a more tender love.

“What if someone sees us?” You asked as he gently placed you upon his desk. Finally pulling out of you, still hard, he covered the window in the door with black paper. You watched him move back towards you, as if he glided on ice, your heart beating a bit faster again. “No one is gonna see us.” He spun you around and gently pushed you over his desk. You squeaked, your heart racing even faster. He rolled your dress up to your hips, exposing your fat ass and soaked pussy. His seed still trickling out of you.

“Ohhh, shit.” He groaned taking in the sights and sounds. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He added.

Logan growled, sending a sharp sting through you. The slap on your ass reverberated through the classroom. You winced as your nails dug through the wood of his desk. You felt the ripple up to your back. The jiggle of your ass making you squirm and pulse.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel the warmth of his tongue as he licked between your folds. “Ahh!” You mewled unsuspecting. Long, flat strokes of his tongue moved through you. His firm hands gripped you to spread you wide. As the tip of his tongue found your clit, your muscles tensed up. Your moans grew louder as he seemed to devour you.

“Mm, you taste so fucking sweet.” He hummed.

With every moan encouraged him to be more aggressive. His tongue darted into you and softly flicked against your other tight hole. “Fuck Logan…fuck me please..”you begged.

His eye twitched at the sound of your request. “Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you again, huh?” His smugness was oozing off of him. He loved hearing you beg for him and he was more than happy to oblige. He kissed your lower lips, a strand of saliva and your sweet juices trailing between them. He licked his lips, stood up and positioned himself at your entrance. “Say it again,” he asked, almost begging you for it.

“…please…fuck me again…Logan.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest. He stroked his length a couple times, while his other hand steadied your hips. He took the tip and pushed through your wet walls. As his other hand found your hip, he pressed back into you. He had more control like this than in the stall and it made him weak. His thrusts were tamed in the beginning, but he couldn’t fight off the primal urge in his body. He needed you.

His hips snapped back and forth as he claimed you as his. “Fuck princess, you feel fuckin’ fantastic.” His hazel eyes watched as he buried his cock deep into you, the sheen coating his dick making him move faster. With every thrust you moaned, your knees feeling weak as you held yourself up for him. Luckily, you were wearing heels. The lewd sound of skin on skin made it even more delectable.

“I need to see that pretty face.” He muttered, pulling out of you without warning, leaving you feeling empty. He flipped you over onto your back as you quickly hiked up your dress…and your legs. He pressed back into your dripping, needy pussy, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Logan released a moan that took him by surprise. As you watched the man you had been pinning for so long grab hold of your thighs, it only made you tighten around him. You pulled your dress back down, exposing your breasts again as they bounced from his drive.

He lost himself in pleasure as his lips kissed your ankle. Your moans and your body moving only made him to take you deeper. He moved your legs from his shoulders and pushed them apart with his palms. Yes, this is how he wanted you. His pace sped up as he leaned over to kiss your lips. His tongue needing yours. Logan’s hands teased your nippled making sure you felt ultimate pleasure. He was determined to make you cum again.

You broke for the kiss needing air as your moans loudly traveled through the halls. You were a loud fuck and he loved it. As things crashed off his desk, papers fluttering down to the floor, his grunts louder than before and in sync with his speedy pulses in your velvet walls. You moaned again, your arms thrown around his neck, “…Logan, I’m so close…” you whimpered.

”I know…baby” he returned, chasing his own high again. His hand left your nipple to play with another sensitive mound in between your legs. You threw your head back as he rubbed your clit. Curses leaving your lips as your brows furrowed and your back arched.

“Cum for me…” his gravely voice demanded. He pressed himself so deep in you still playing with your clit. Your voice trembled and got higher pitched.

“Lo-lo-lo-loooo…” you squealed, the feeling that build up in your body finally release itself. You came hard, your back arched as he watched you convulse on the desk, squeezing him, only making him reach his own release. Sending pools of hot white cum in you again.

Nothing else mattered in this moment than the two of you. Out of breath as you tried to catch it, you started laughing. “Oh, my god…I can’t believe we did that.” He returned the sentiment, pulling out of you. He grabbed some paper towels from his desk, handed you some, and wiped only the tip off.

“But you don’t regret it, do you?” He asked, tossing it in the trash. His arms wrapped around your back, assisting you to sit up. Your eyes met his still in a trance from the previous engagement.

”What?! No!…that was the best lay I’ve had in years.” You responded, kissing him sweetly on his lips.

Logan looked down and chuckled. He grabbed your chin with his free hand, “I can be your only lay, from here on out.”

You smiled, still not trying to come across overly eager, “…Sure Mr. Howlett. I’d like that.”

#Spotify #wolverine x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #Logan Howlett x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #wolverine #logan howlett #deadpool and wolverine #Logan Howlett x f!reader #Logan Howlett x you #wolverine smut #Logan smut #Logan fluff #wolverine fan fiction #the wolverine #Logan Howlett x Y/N #James Howlett #x men fanfic

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365emotionlessfaces · 13 days ago

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ahhhh! Here’s the next part. I had so much fun writing this!

The Aspiring Teachers Program

Part 2 WC:~1.7k

Melissa woke the next morning before anyone else in the cabin. ‘Not surprising,’ she thought. She had been getting up early for more than half of Parent Trap’s life. The other two in the room looked roughly around the same age, maybe mid twenties, Melissa guessed. She didn’t really care. She grabbed a pair of mid-thigh length khaki shorts, and pink tank top and a light denim button up out of her suitcase and headed to the bathroom to change. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, and after searching for a mirror ‘Or anything freakin’ reflective,’ and coming up empty handed, she decided two things. This would have to be good enough, and she was already giving up on putting effort into her looks for this thing.

After folding her pajamas neatly and setting them on her pristinely made bed, Melissa checked her watch to find that the mess hall wouldn’t even be open for breakfast for another half hour. She sighed and grabbed one of the few novels she had brought along. Stepping outside, she found a bench nearby and decided to read until she could go get some food.

“Hey!” Thirty seconds later Parent Trap slid onto the bench right beside Melissa, facing her, and the redhead noted that the girl left no room between the lengths of her shin and Melissa’s thigh before she looked up to meet those damn shiny eyes. “You wanna get some breakfast with me?” The girl sounded hopeful.

“They’re not open yet, Parent Trap,” Melissa replied, returning her gaze to her book. Feeling the young girl just staring at her she looked back at the girl, this time a little annoyed, though this time she wasn’t met with the girl’s eyes. The girl was looking down at where their legs were meeting. Only for a second, though, because she quickly locked eyes with Melissa before speaking again.

“They opened five minutes ago.” Melissa looked at her watch to see it had been much longer than thirty seconds since she sat down, and then at her book to see that she had read far more than she thought she had. She sighed and stood up, turning to face the young girl still seated on the bench.

“You head up there and get us a spot. I’ll be there in a minute,” Melissa told the girl, who smiled brightly in response. The Veteran teacher then turned to return her book to her suitcase before meeting the little Aspiring One, as Melissa decided she was now calling it, for breakfast. If she had decided to turn around at any moment on her way back, she would have caught her own Aspiring One staring right at her ass. But she didn’t, so she didn’t.

Ten minutes later, she was crossing the mess hall to sit down across from Parent Trap with a bowl of what Melissa was hoping was oatmeal. As she was making her way to the table, she looked at Parent Trap, using the opportunity to try and get a feel for the kid without her talking, or smiling that bright ass smile, or, God forbid, looking at her with those beautiful freaking eyes.

The girl was young, sure, but she had that weird kind of niceness to her that you know people only get by going through Hell. It was the girl’s armor. Melissa respected that. She sure as Hell didn’t understand it, but she respected it. Try as she might, Melissa couldn’t deny that the girl was beautiful. Gorgeous, even. A Philly ten. Give her eight to ten years, and she’ll be a Philly thirteen. That’s the thing, she’s a kid. Nineteen. Ain’t even in the trenches, yet.

Melissa sat down across from the girl and the girl lit up like freakin’ Christmas lights. She immediately starts planning for the first day’s event: making a birdhouse. Originally, Melissa had scoffed at the idea. It seemed stupid to her, but listening to the young girl across from her basically daydream out loud about building birdhouses with her future students was warming Melissa up to the idea. Besides, maybe learning how to make a birdhouse out of cheap crap she gets from donations or the dollar store might not be the worst idea she’d ever heard.

That was until she was actually building the damn birdhouse. There’s glue all over her hands, her birdhouse kinda resembles the cake from Sleeping Beauty, or maybe the Tower of Pisa, and someone on the other side of the room decided they wanted to use glitter, so, of course, that meant every person in the room had tiny silver specks of glitter somewhere on their persons. When she looked over to see that Parent Trap had somehow reconstructed the Fresh Prince’s house, she was both extremely impressed and frustrated that the girl had taken to it so easily.

After lunch and four more attempts at making a suitable home for a ruffed Grouse, Melissa called it quits and just watched as the girl beside her created masterpiece after masterpiece. When Bullhorn Lady, who was leading this little circus, decided that the activity was done for the day, she announced the winner- Parent Trap, of course- and, she released everyone for a free hour before dinner. The room cleared out quickly, as apparently Melissa was not the only one frustrated by their lack of architecture knowledge.

Melissa remained behind as Parent Trap planned out loud how she was going to get her birdhouses-more like birdcity- back to the cabin.

“I think they keep ‘em.” Melissa interrupted the girl’s reverie. When the girl looked back at Melissa like the redhead had kicked her puppy, it didn’t take very long for the older woman to cave. “Alright, you grab two, I’ll grab two, and we’ll make a run for it.”

“What about yours?” Melissa was in the process of grabbing one of the well-built birdhouses when she stopped.

“What about mine?” Parent Trap looked at Melissa with such an adorable puzzled look on her face. Melissa wasn’t sure if the girl was picking on her because of how poorly she made the birdhouse or not.

“Don’t you wanna take it home?” The girl was so earnest, Melissa decided there was no way the girl was being mean.

“Nah, it’s not that good. Yours, though. Look at ‘em. They could be in some teachin’ magazine. Make ya famous.” The girl’s blush nearly knocked Melissa off her feet.

“I think it doesn’t matter if it’s good or not. It’s your art. You made it, and art doesn’t have to be good, it just has to make you feel something,” the girl was looking at her shoes as she said those words, as if she were unable to look Melissa in the eye.

Melissa thought about being able to show the girl all of her projects that didn’t turn out as planned. She had a few failed pottery pieces sitting in the back of her closet, a flash drive containing a terrible attempt at a novel, and a bookshelf in her library that has an uneven leg because she thought she could build it herself. She thought about how the girl would react, and realized that she couldn’t even imagine the girl responding with anything but a heartwarming smile, and encouraging her to pursue any pipe dreams Melissa may have.

“I appreciate that, hon, but honestly, yours are more worth saving because those ones are wanted.” With that, Melissa scooped up two of the girl’s birdhouses and headed off towards their cabin. She missed Parent Trap grabbing her awkwardly built birdhouse and following her with gusto.

After putting the birdhouses on a table in the cabin, Melissa decided she wanted to use her free time to go for a swim. She grabbed her suit out of her suitcase and changed in the bathroom. By the time she exited, the birdhouses had been put away, and the young girl was laid down on her bed, writing in what Melissa assumed was a journal. She announced her exit, and the girl looked up and froze when her eyes met Melissa’s figure. Melissa smirked, and she might have put a little extra sway in her hips as she left the cabin. It’s not like she was doing anything, right? It was just nice to be looked at like she was wanted again. Joe hadn’t looked at her like that since long before they were even married, and here was this young little thing eyeing her like a piece of cake. She wasn’t gonna do anything, but she could enjoy the looks right?

Swimming was relaxing. Melissa had wandered down a path and found a hidden patch of beach that could comfortably fit two people. Three, if they were all short and petite. She enjoyed the seclusion, and listened to the sounds of nature around her. No one from the main beach could be seen from her little hideaway, and she had to swim pretty far out to even be able to see it. Too bad hide ‘n’ seek wasn’t one of the games because she knew she’d win with this spot. She spent her entire free hour at her new spot, and by the time she made it back to the cabin to change for dinner, everyone had already gone.

She made it to the mess hall, and stepped in line, ready for whatever they were serving tonight. She was starving. She was minding her business when she overheard a few people ahead of her in line talking, and her ears just couldn’t help themselves, they had to tune in.

“Did you guys see the girl that won the birdhouse thing?”

“She’s hot as Hell. I’d tap that.”

Melissa just rolled her eyes. Sure they weren’t wrong- Parent Trap really was a looker- but they didn’t have to be so crass. She tuned the rest of the conversation out, not wanting to hear anything that might have to make her beat the shit outta two Aspiring Ones.

She grabbed her meal of sloppy joes and a bag of chips and went to take her seat across from her own Aspiring Teacher. She was feeling a little peeved from the guys in line, but any negative feelings were forgotten as soon as Parent Trap smiled up at her. She then had to use all of her mental energy to ignore the fluttery feelings in her stomach.

“Glad you made it,” the young girl looked at Melissa in a way that the older woman could figure out.

“Me, too,” was all Melissa could muster.

Part Three

#lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti x reader

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thetormentita · 2 months ago

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spes ultima dea - chapter 2

Audaces fortuna iuvat — Virgil.

Pairings: Ofc x Lucius Verus

A/n: maybe I left some things unwritten between first chapter and this one, maybe i’ll post some stuff in the future 🤔

Warnings: mentions of murder, sexual abuse and slavery; angst, maybe some fluff.

Rating: Explicit (+18)

Tagging list: @novaursa @maegelletargaryen @mmkkzz

She swings her legs from the second floor of the courtyard as she braids her hair, her eyes observing the lanista and the veteran gladiators training. The sun casts warm light on their swift maneuvers, spotlighting the sweat glistening on their skin, and she thinks they glow like the heroes of the tales she was told when she was a child.

Lost in reverie, she imagines herself among them, wielding a sword with courage, though she knows the life of a gladiator is far from what she was taught. If the Romans would not have come to her lands, she would be a ranger, or a soldier, bow in hand, eyes observing with attention her surroundings, or even a healer, but instead of learning from Ravi she would have been apprentice to the tiny woman with grey hair and crooked spine of her memories whose name is now forgotten beneath the mossy oaks of her village.

“Where the new ones?” The thick accent of the Dacian old slave behind her almost startles her, taking her back to reality.

“Macrinus took them. Dominus says they were to fight in a private party for the Emperors’s favourite.”

“I hope one o’ them cuts the throat of those brats” mumbles the woman, taking a stool and sitting behind her.

“Kata!” Alana turns to face her fellow slave, a woman that could almost be her grandmother with fiery red hair tinted with grayish hairs and the darkest eyes she has ever seen.

“Shut up and let me do yer hair.”

It is not her tribe, those are not her lands, but a part of her feels that the gods have given her a small tribe in replacement, full with warriors to fight back the enemies, and companions to share the burden of captivity.

“Quintus looks worried.” Mumbles Alana, almost pouting, her arms hanging from the bannister as well.

“When does he not look worried, lass? If he does not train the men good enough the ludus loses coin, ‘nd the first to be punished is ‘im.”

“The ludus never loses coin.”

It is strange to have the place that empty. With their dominus by the private event with the newest men and Ravi to help and their domina enjoying the free time far from her husband, the place almost looks like a haven, people from half of the empire gathered in a peaceful moment that might never come again.

“It did” Kata scoffs, her fingers swiftly braiding her long mane as she speaks, never pulling her hair. “The last time you were just a pup, too li’l to know anything. A general fell in disgrace and was sent ‘ere, and he was the best I have seen in many time. Ravi met ‘im too, he was fond of ‘im. A good man.”

“What happened to him?”

“Dead. All the good ones end up dead.”

Alana clenches her jaw, thoughtful as she watches the horizon. She wonders if the same fate awaits to those she holds dear.

…

“Look at me. Look at me.”

The healer hisses as he takes his face with a hand, forcing him to look at his face. A quick glance is enough for the Indian to know that, at least, the strongest of the newcomers can return to the ludus.

“He savaged my people” the gladiator grits as his hands clench in tight fists, his knuckles turning white with fury. “He took everything from me.”

Despite the defiant answer in proper Latin to the emperors, it still amazes him to hear the gladiator speak other than Punic.

“Who did it?” He muses, forcing him to sit down before him.

“The general.”

Their gazes meet, and a pang of sympathy hits the healer. He knows too well how he feels, how it is to have everything taken from you only because somebody at the other side of the world fancies it.

How much it had hurt for him. The memory still lingers, like a scar that refuses to fade, but he has grown used to that dull pain deep down in his chest. It fuels him, makes him stronger, more determined to mend the broken and save what can be saved.

“Keep your mind clear, you hear me? Your priority must be to earn your liberty.” Hanno is spirited, it shows, but in that moment Ravi has other thoughts forming in his head “Forget the general, the emperors and all those rats around. You have to win your battles and get your freedom.”

“But how—?”

Ravi takes a deep breath, his own victory sometimes still feels too recent.

“Win. Make the people like you, make the other gladiators follow you. Prove your worth, and soon the chains that bind you will break. I lived it myself.”

“Why are you here then?”

A sad smile tugs from the corners of the healer’s lips, and he casts his gaze to the ground. “I had nowhere to go. My village was razed to the ground and my people are dead or captured and slaved at the other corner of the empire. I forged my own family here, and the dominus saw it is more cheap to have me here tending at you than to make somebody else come.”

Ravi glances at Hanno, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He has been at his side, he has been furious and violent, but he kept his mind straight. No chains, no walls could hold his spirit captive.

Hanno nods slowly, his resolve hardening like tempered steel.

“I saw good men dead because they were impulsive. Don’t make the same mistake.”

The distant echo of footsteps call the men’s attention, and Ravi is the one to stand up first, placing himself between Hanno and whoever approaches them. It could be the emperors, it could be their dominus, it could be one of the ladies witnessing the fight looking for a favour, it could be Nemesis herself finally claiming their souls.

“Should we call him our favourite this season, then?”

It is their dominus, visibly satisfied with the new acquisition. If he mourns the loss of the rest of the small group, his face does not show it. He approaches them like a vulture waiting for carrion, eyes gleaming with interest.

“Did anybody show any interest in Hanno?”

Ravi knows that for the man they are just faces, only his servants having name when it suits him.

“Apparently the general’s wife, and possibly a senator or two… The season is still young, don’t you think?”

Behind him, Hanno stays stiff, his eyes observing them, and it only takes a stretched palm for Ravi to make him think twice about engaging in any hasty confrontations.

“My advice is to rotate the men as last season, dominus. They all are strong, and whenever they expect the least, they will see Hanno fighting at his best, taking every bout with technique and strength. We all know he has it, and the commoners will adore seeing him in action.”

It hurts him to ignore the Numidian in such way in front of him, but he knows how things go by the tunnels under the amphitheatre, and the least he wants is to get him or himself hurt in the process.

The dominus chuckles softly, an unsettling sound that sends a shiver down Ravi's spine.

“Of course. You see it all, don’t you? Well then, let us make sure this season is as entertaining as ever. Send our favourite to the baths, and make the lass tend to him.” Ravi bows his head, concealing the discomfort beneath his calm demeanor as the dominus throws them a crooked smile “A gift. For his worth.”

A gift.

Ravi sighs when their owner is far enough from them, his breath mingling with the cool air. He turns to Hanno, seeing the silent questions etched on the man’s face like shadows.

…

A gift.

The last time somebody talked about her as a gift things had ended quite bad for her, with bruises and pain for days, and nightmares for months. But it is the curious stranger this time, not any brute with more muscle than common sense, and she thinks she should not be afraid of him, because he has let her tend to his wounds with unexpected gentleness.

Yet uneasiness flows her senses, almost making her flinch when she hears any noise, her eyes falling to the ground of the room, only the water from the pool providing a steady, soothing rhythm to calm her racing thoughts.

Would he be gentle or prefer to split her in half? Or maybe he wants her to do all the work? What if he prefers the company of men instead of women?

She is lost in her doubts and fears when she can hear footsteps approaching, soft against the stone floor. She closes her eyes for a moment, her instincts hitting hard, and she can spot two different people—no, it is three of them. Her heart races as the footsteps draw closer. The air grows tense, heavy with uncertainty, as she braces herself for their arrival.

But only one crosses the entrance.

“Alana…”

She raises her eyes only to meet his, the purest blue she has ever seen greeting her with a gentle warmth. It feels almost like a promise that perhaps things will be different this time.

“I heard you won. The dominus wants me to take care of you.”

Her hands, clasped at her front, twitch slightly. Her instinct is to pull them away, to melt into the shadows where she feels safe but, instead, she steadies her breathing, forcing herself to remain present.

“Ravi has tended to your wounds?” He nods, and his gaze softens. “Good. Now, you have to get into the water.” As she talks, she pushes herself to approach him, to help him get undressed. “I have soap and oils to help you get rid of the dirt.”

She bites her lower lip as her fingers work deftly to unlace his tunic. Her actions are clinical, but her eyes betray a flicker of hesitation. She wants to think that he is a good man, but she knows well that good men can turn into cruel shadows in an instant. Her heart warns her as much, a constant reminder of past betrayals, moments of despair that costed her a part of her willingness and her strength.

Still, she can't avoid the hope budding in the recesses of her heart.

“What happens?” He mumbles in a perfect Latin, making her stop for just a moment, her fingers pausing in their task, her brain trying to assimilate that she was right and he is more than a Numidian soldier subdued by the pet of the emperors.

“You… You can understand me?” She raises her eyes, wide open, to meet his again as a slow smile creeps onto his lips.

“Yes,” he replies quietly, a hint of warmth in his voice.

“But how—?”

“It is a long story.” He glances to the water with a weary face. “But something troubles you.”

She hesitates, her hands still over his garments, almost like wanting the clothes to keep his nudity to himself.

“I— I am your gift. From the dominus.” She mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze still observing his face, expectant of what his reaction will be. “I—It means that you…”

“I know what it means” his rough hands upon hers stop her words. His touch is gentle, not at all like how she imagined it. “I will not force you, I swear” he reassures, his eyes seeking hers with sincerity. “I give you my word.”

She releases a breath she doesn’t realize she has been holding, a flood of relief washing over her as his thumbs trace soft circles upon the back of her hands, almost like wanting to soothe her worries. All she can do is to lower her head and mutter her thanks, a single and betraying tear rolling down her face. He notices the tear, and she flinches when he brushes it away with a finger, softly, as if afraid to break her. Her heart pounds, both from relief and the unusual tenderness he's shown.

“Come on, to the water.” She mumbles as she tilts her head to the pool, letting his clothing slip past her fingers and lay on the floor.

His expression softens, caught somewhere between curiosity and vulnerability, as he steps towards the shimmering surface. A silent groan escaping his lips as the warm water envelops his weary body, easing tension he didn’t realize he carried. She observes him as he sinks deeper into the pool, watching the water ripple around him.

It certainly is a relief for him to not have to bear with his burdens alone. He glances up at her, grateful for her company, and motions her to join him.

“Oh, no.”

“Why not?”

Her gaze flickers toward one of the corners of the room, where the dancing light of a candle casts shadows that dance upon the water.

“I am here to take care of you. Maybe some other day.”

She looks at the gladiator and she doesn’t see a man defined by blood and battle, but rather someone yearning for solace, desperately trying to find peace in a world that refuses him rest. Others are fueled by vicious rage and sorrow, and she thinks that he may be keeping his own pains deep down where no one can see them. She finds herself wishing she could offer him more than a moment of tranquility, something lasting.

Hanno sighs when he settles himself in the water, steam easing his muscles and breathing life into his weary spirit. She observes his features sculpted by the flickering light and she decides he is handsome despite the filth clinging to his body.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Do tell.”

“You were the only one who came speaking Latin. How—?”

He bites his inner cheek, thoughtful, and she approaches him meanwhile, kneeling behind him with soap, oils and cloth.

“I grew up in the port. My father was a merchant.” He turns to face her, slightly surprised to find her behind him, ready to start “Got an idea. Why don’t we play a game? For every question you want to ask me, I can ask one in return. What do you think?” A soft smile curves her lips as she dips the soap bar in the water, his eyes observing her hands, her swift and bony fingers moving with gentle precision.

“Fine by me.” She mumbles, and with care she puts one of her hands atop his head, softly making him face the front as her fingers stroke his hair with care.

“My turn then. How old are you?”

“Don’t really know. I came here before starting bleeding. I have always been at the ludus.” She dips the soap again in the water before starting to scrub it gently against his hair. “How is Numidia? Ravi only said it is past the sea.”

“Boiling hot” a soft giggle escapes his lips as he lets her do, and she smiles at the sound of it. “But you get used to it. Most of all rocks and desert if you go to the south. I lived near the sea, and you can find some more life there. What about your home?”

Her home. It sounds strange to her, because she had forced herself to adapt to a life she never wished for.

“Forests. Enormous green fields” she tries to focus on what she is doing so the memories hurt less. “You can hunt deer and rabbit, and if you are lucky even boar… I once almost shoot down a wolf, but I was small and my arrows were too little for the animal. There was a tree in my village that was up to the sky, and I liked to climb it and see the stars at night, but Mama always got angry and said I would twist a leg or break my head…” She finds herself clenching her jaw, trying her best to keep herself serene. “Dip your head, I need to take the soap from your hair.”

He does as she says and she allows herself a trembling sigh when he can’t hear her. Despite having taken her own situation and forced herself to adapt and see the bright side of it, sometimes she can’t help but feel a longing for the life she had been forced to leave behind.

To distract herself she buries her fingers in his hair again, and allows herself to pass them along his scalp, brushing it softly, only returning her hands to both sides of her lap as he sits up, wiping the excess water from his eyes. “Thank you,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “I never imagined a healer could offer comfort beyond just remedying the body.” He passes a hand along his hair, and a soft smile appears upon her face “How did you became a healer?”

“Well, healing comes in many forms,” she replies, allowing warmth to fill her voice. “I started to follow Ravi around the ludus, and he showed me. By the time they realized it was cheaper to have Ravi stay in the ludus, I was already helping him.”

There is a question lingering in the air, and neither of them wish to speak it out loud, because it only brings pain.

“I like your braid. It suits you.”

A smile lingers upon Alana’s lips. Maybe it is the first compliment she gets in many time. One of her hands go to her own hair, her fingertips brushing over the elaborated work of Kata.

She could swear she is blushing with Hanno’s words.

“Do you like it?” He hums in approval, leaning against the wall of the pool to let her do better, and Alana’s quick mind starts to imagine him doing what Ravi did, earning his freedom and being remembered fondly by it.

She realizes that when Hanno looks at her, something deep down stirs, like a distant echo of hope calling her heart to soften its guard.

“You were trembling before” Hanno takes one of her hands, studying it as if the answers lay in her palm, his fingertips tracing shapeless figures on the skin, almost trying to soothe her sorrow. “How many times—?”

She frowns, clenching her jaw. “It’s hard to say,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “A few. Too many,” she adds, her eyes distant. Hanno nods, sensing the weight of what remains unspoken.

“I— I am sorry” he murmurs, guilt lacing his voice. Yet, there is an understanding in his eyes, a silent vow to share her burden. “If you want, I can help,” he offers, his grip on her hand tightening slightly, offering his strength.

“I don’t see how you can help.”

“They won’t touch you as long as I am around.” She lifts her gaze, studying him intently. There is a resolve in his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before, a fierce protectiveness she finds comforting. “I mean it,” he insists, meeting her gaze with unwavering determination.

#sud2 #gladiator 2 fanfiction #gladiator 2 fanfic #gladiator 2 fic #lucius verus fanfiction #lucius verus x oc #lucius verus fanfic #lucius verus fic

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candycandy00 · 4 months ago

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Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse - A JJK Interactive Romance Fanfic Round 4

Read the details about this event here!

Round 1 | Round 2 | Round 3

During a zombie apocalypse, you meet a group of seven handsome men. Which one will you choose to be your survival/romantic partner?

Vote for the man you want to be eliminated! The man with the most votes will not be killed off in the story, but he will be removed from all future polls and his branching story will be closed off!

Reminder: Vote for the man you DO NOT want to survive with! You are voting someone OUT!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Note: From here on out, the story branches into different paths, so each man’s part exists in its own little AU. Also, all men who have been voted out will no longer have their parts posted. Choose wisely!

Sukuna:

You wobble on your feet as the truck picks up speed, stumbling right into the huge, firm body of Sukuna. You catch yourself from falling by grabbing hold of his muscular arm, wondering how he’s remaining so steady despite the sway and movement of the trailer you’re both standing in.

He makes no move to help you, but he also doesn’t seem to mind you holding onto him. Once it feels like the truck is on the road and has reached a stable speed, you separate from him and make you way to the closest wall. Surprisingly, he moves to the wall himself, just a few feet away from you.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, you decide to try talking to the most intimidating man in the truck.

“So what are your plans after this?” you ask him. “Gonna help them set up a base?”

He looks over at you, his eyes moving up and down your figure as if judging whether or not you’re worth speaking to. Apparently, you pass whatever standard he has.

“I’m not planning on staying with the group, but I’ll see how things play out. I’ll go wherever seems most fun.”

Most fun? This is a zombie fucking apocalypse! You suspected it before, but this guy really is something else. He’s treating this whole thing like it’s amusing to him.

“What kind of fun are you looking for?” you ask, genuinely curious, hoping your tone doesn’t come out too sharp.

He grins. “A challenge. Something worth my time and energy. Maybe I’ll find a big group and take it over. Maybe I’ll just fucking kill every zombie on earth. Or maybe,” he says, eyes darkening as they slide down your form again, “I’ll find a woman worth fucking.”

You suddenly feel undressed, naked before his hungry gaze even though you’re fully clothed. It’s a strange feeling, even stranger for the fact that you don’t find it wholly unpleasant.

The truck slams on the breaks out of nowhere, causing you to lurch forward. Sukuna catches you this time, holding you upright in his strong arms. You look up at him. He could do it, you think. He could kill every zombie. He could take over any group, no matter how big or well organized. He could have you under him whenever he wants. The realization makes you feel heated.

But more importantly, why did the truck stop? There’s no way to communicate with the cab, so you have no idea what’s going on up front. The others are all looking at each other curiously. Eventually the decision is made to wait a few minutes to see if Gojo or Geto comes back to the trailer to tell you all what the holdup is. But soon enough, you begin hearing the sounds of groaning and hands slapping against the sides and door of the trailer.

It sounds like a large herd has surrounded the truck! Everyone readies their weapons, tense looks on their faces. Except for Sukuna, who simply looks excited.

A quick discussion takes place. Should you open the door and try to escape? There’s enough food and water in the trailer to last several days, and maybe the zombies will give up and leave if they don’t see or hear any people for a while. But what about Geto and Gojo? They could be trapped in the cab with significantly fewer supplies, and how much oxygen is in the trailer anyway? How long will it last?

The decision is made to open the door and try to fight your way to the cab to check their safety, then perhaps run away to try to find some other vehicle or shelter. You’re uneasy about this plan, but you realize there’s no choice. You decide to try to stick close to Sukuna, confident that he can take out any threat.

You hold your breath without realizing it as the door rises like a shutter, revealing dozens of zombies reaching up, trying to crawl in. How in the world are you going to survive this?! But before fear can grip you any tighter, you’re distracted by the sight of Sukuna leaping out of the trailer and right down into the middle of the herd, crushing several with his feet as he lands.

Geto Suguru:

You’re not sure how you ended up sitting alone in the front cab of the truck with Geto, but here you are. Gojo went to ride in the back, saying he wanted to see what supplies Nanami found in the truck, and so it was just you and Geto as he drove down the highway.

Somehow, Geto is the most intimidating of the men, even more so than Sukuna. You’re not sure if it’s his aura of control, or if it’s just the fact that he’s so fucking beautiful that it’s hard to think straight when he’s near. How the hell is his hair so shiny and soft in a zombie apocalypse anyway?

Sure, he’s friendly and he smiles often, but you get the strong impression that these are surface level. There’s a darkness to him that seems to be sitting just below the surface, and it makes you nervous.

“Everyone got away okay, so I guess your plan was a success,” you say, remembering that he seemed to be worried that his decisions would get you all killed.

“Except Fushiguro,” he says, eyes narrowing slightly as he watches the road.

“I think he made it,” you tell him. “He was really sure of himself when he left, and anyway, it was his choice to break off from the group. You can’t be responsible for that.”

His eyes slide over to you briefly, and the dark edge to them softens just a little. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”

You find yourself flushing slightly. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Is it working at all?”

He smiles then, and it looks real to you. “A little. I appreciate your concern. Sorry if I made you worry about me.”

You can’t suppress a light laugh. “I guess we’re both worriers, huh?”

“Maybe we can help each other with that,” he says, and you start to relax around him for the first time.

It doesn’t last long.

He suddenly slams the breaks, causing you to lurch forward. You don’t miss the way his arm juts out in front of you to keep you from being thrown out of your seat. You look up through the windshield at the road in front of you and gasp.

Up ahead, absolutely filling the highway, is the biggest herd of zombies you’ve ever seen. There have to be hundreds of them! They’re far enough away that they’re not a threat right now, but the thought of trying to drive through them, of perhaps getting stuck in the middle of them, sends a chill down your spine.

“What do we do?” you ask. “Is there a way around?” You know you can’t go back the way you came. That leads back to the city, where the roads are blocked by abandoned vehicles and other obstructions, and by now there are probably even more zombies.

Geto pulls a map out of his bag beside him and looks it over. “I don’t see any roads that’ll take us where we need to go. We’ll have to try going through them.”

You gape at him. “Are you serious? What if you try to bulldoze your way through and the bodies get caught up in the tires?”

“I’m not bulldozing my way through,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’ve noticed that they tend to shamble out of the way of large objects. If I drive very slowly, most of them should clear the road. I’ll go tell the others the plan.”

You watch him climb down out of the driver’s seat, worried now more than ever.

Gojo Satoru:

You’re not sure how to act around Gojo now. Seeing him go berserk fighting zombies has given you an entirely different opinion of the man you thought was just an easy going goofball. It’s not that you’re afraid of him, but rather that you realized how little you know about any of these men.

And now you find yourself sitting in the front cab of the truck, wedged between Gojo and Geto. How did you end up stuck between the two hottest guys you’ve ever seen in your life? Gojo insisted you ride up front with them.

“You don’t need to be back there in that stuffy old trailer,” he’d told you as he practically dragged you to the front. “You ride up here with us. There’s an old CD player! We can listen to music.”

You didn’t have the heart or the will to refuse him, not when he looks at you with those lovely eyes.

Gojo has a big zippered case full of CD’s in his lap, looking through them as if he’s on a fun road trip and not fleeing a zombie horde. He chooses one and slides it into the stereo system of the truck.

Geto blanches beside you when the music starts. “What kind of trucker listens to 90’s pop?”

Gojo grins. “One with excellent taste!”

Geto rolls his eyes, but has nothing more to say about the matter, instead focusing on the road in front of him.

As the music plays, you realize how exhausted you are after the adrenaline rush of escaping the store. You haven’t slept well in weeks, naturally, and within half an hour, you nod off.

You awaken to the sound of Gojo’s voice, closer than you expect, and you keep your eyes closed as you listen.

“Hey, Suguru, look. She fell asleep on my shoulder.”

You almost jerk up to get off him when you hear that, just now realizing that the soft fabric beneath your face is his shirt. But you decide to stay still and pretend to be asleep. This might be a good chance to learn more about these guys.

“I guess all the excitement wore her out,” Geto says, and you almost laugh at how much it sounds like he’s talking about a child after a birthday party.

“She’s cute like this though,” Gojo’s voice says. “I wonder how long she’ll stick around.”

“Satoru, don’t get attached. She could leave at any moment, or be bitten, or just killed.”

There’s a pause where both men are quiet, then Gojo says, “I won’t get attached. But there’s no harm in having fun with her while she’s around, right?”

Huh? What does he mean by that? The only thing that pops into your head upon hearing that is, well, sex. But maybe he doesn’t mean it that way. It’s entirely possible that he’s talking about fun in a more general sense.

And to be perfectly honest, you’re not sure you’d turn down some apocalypse sex with a guy as gorgeous as him anyway.

But the next words you hear halt all sexy thoughts in your brain and make your blood run cold.

Geto says, “The harm is when you have to kill her yourself. Even if you just played around with her, that will leave a mark on you, mentally.”

Wait, what? Your heart races, and you will yourself to calm down. He probably means if you turn into a zombie, or get bitten.

Right?

But Gojo responds, “I don’t think it’ll come to that. Even if she doesn’t agree with what we’ve got planned, I doubt she’d get in our way.”

Get in their way? What the hell do they have planned?! There’s a lull in the conversation, so you use the opportunity to pretend you’re waking up. You rub your eyes and sit up.

“Where are we?” you ask, trying to sound sleepy and confused.

Gojo smiles at you. Damnit, why is his smile so dazzling? “We’re about fifty miles from the city now. Did you have a good nap?”

“Yeah, sorry for borrowing your shoulder,” you say, your embarrassment genuine.

He laughs. “You can borrow it anytime!”

“So… where exactly are you guys headed?” you ask, trying not to sound suspicious. “Do you have a destination in mind?”

The two of them glance at each other, then Gojo says, “There’s a group occupying a military bunker about a hundred miles from here. It’s a pretty small group, and rumor has it they’re running out of supplies fast. We’re heading there.”

“Oh, are we going to join up with them?” you ask.

Gojo’s friendly smile fades, and the look in his eyes reminds you uncomfortably of the feral beast you saw fighting zombies. “No,” he says, “We’re going to take the bunker from them.”

Nanami Kento:

After taking Nanami’s hand, he firmly but gently pulls you into the back of the trailer attached to the truck. Now that you think of it, that perfectly describes the man himself. Firm but gentle.

As the truck begins to move, Nanami helps you over to the wall to steady yourself, and once the swaying stops, he walks over to one of the bags of supplies he found and pulls out a bottle of some kind. He walks over and holds it out to you.

“Do you like lemon tea?” he asks.

You smile as you take the bottle. “I love lemon tea,” you tell him. “Thanks.”

Cracking the seal on the bottle, you take a sip, not wanting to waste any. You could only bring so many things from the store, and who knows when you’ll find more supplies?

You hold the bottle back toward him. “Want a drink?”

He looks at it, then at your face. “Oh, you don’t have to share,” he says. “There’s another bottle.”

Is it your imagination, or is his face slightly pink? Is he seriously shy about drinking after you? Back in high school, a friend of yours called it an “indirect kiss”. Surely this grown man wasn’t thinking about that. It almost makes you giggle.

God, you haven’t actually giggled in so long.

“Nanami, this is literally the apocalypse. Sharing a bottle of tea is nothing,” you say with a laugh.

He gives you an embarrassed smile, then takes the bottle from you and takes a small drink before handing it back. “Thank you,” he says.

The two of you sit down on the floor, leaning your backs against the wall. You glance over at him. “So how did you end up with this group?”

“I went to high school with Gojo and Geto. As ridiculous as they can be sometimes, they’re both very reliable when it counts. So when they asked if I wanted to join them, I accepted. Higuruma is a friend I know from work. The others we met at a shelter.”

You remember Gojo telling you about the shelter where things fell apart. You wonder how Nanami felt about it, but you don’t want to be rude by asking.

“It’s nice to be with people you’ve known for a long time,” you say. “The familiarity must be comforting.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “It must have been hard for you, being alone.”

The two of you spend the next hour or so talking, about your lives and careers before everything went wrong, about your differing experiences with shelters and groups so far, and about your plans going forward.

“Do you really think you can set up a permanent shelter?” you ask him.

He leans his head back against the wall. “I hope so. Being on the run all the time just isn’t sustainable. At some point we have to consider future generations, and how to safeguard them.”

You nod, thinking he really is a kind person.

Another hour later, and you feel the truck slowing down, then turning. When it finally comes to a stop, everyone waits for a few moments before the door opens. Geto is outside.

“We’re getting low on fuel,” he says. “We found a gas station so we’ll check to see if there’s anything left.”

Everyone in the trailer strands up, many of them stretching after two hours on the road, and all of you climb down to go check the convenience store.

Nanami holds out his hand to you after climbing down, helping you drop to the pavement below.

“Thanks,” you tell him, but you notice that he’s still holding your hand.

“You should stick close to us,” he says. “There might be a few-“

A groan cuts him off. He turns to look for the source of the noise, his body going tense and his grip on your hand tightening. There, coming around the corner of the truck, is a small group of zombies, all of them looking starved.

Tag List:

@tadabzzzbee @babysoo-meu @atomicweaselpaperapricot

#gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader #higuruma x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #sukuna #choso #geto suguru #fushiguro toji #nanami kento #higuruma hiromi

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eirakairos · 2 months ago

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Rendezvous Chapter 6

Summary: It has been a couple of months since you returned to the city with Sylus and your daughter. He got everything prepared, all he needed was your approval.

A/N: Thank you so much for tuning in to Rendezvous! This took a while as I was busy for the holidays. It was slow at first, but the spirit of the holidays and 4 hours of classical music made my brain cells work lol

I was planning this would be the last chapter story-wise, maybe a couple of separate side stories in the future. Maybe some drabbles about the vacation, the wedding, or the honeymoon!

Tags: a bit fluff and comfort, MC is a mother, and Sylus and her have a daughter!, pulling heartstrings if you knew about the context esp the myth, Sylus is a girl dad hands down, traveling

It has been a couple of months since you returned to the city with Sylus and your daughter. He is glad that everything is smooth. His daughter is settling in nicely in N109 Zone while you are back working in the Hunter’s Association, but it is remote office work. You return to Linkon for a week, appearing to Tara and other colleagues. It was a joyous reunion as they cannot believe you survived after all those years. Tara was beyond excited about finally meeting your daughter, teasing that she looks more like Skye than you.

Meanwhile, Skye was amused, watching them from his VIP room. After all, the cafe where you decided to meet them was his. They respected your decision not to return as a Deepspace hunter but offered an office job opening since they can consider your condition if you decide to go for it. Sylus gave you the liberty to do so, despite stating that you don’t have to work that hard anymore because he will take care of everything.

“Why is Mama not with us?” his daughter asked. The waiter served pasta and wine for Sylus, while his daughter got a sandwich and a peach drink.

“She is going to meet her friend Tara today, girl’s day and all,” he responded. “Then, why are we here in the cafe?” she asked. Sylus hummed and patted her head. “Very inquisitive, my daughter,” She looked at him, he seemed to be a bit nervous. “We are here because…” Her father pulls out a black box and places it on the table. She gasped. “As my daughter, I would like to ask your permission, to marry your mother,” Your daughter opened the box and it was a ring of a red gem with a black band surrounded by diamonds. “That day… I was going to spend a long vacation with her and ask her hand in marriage,” he said, remembering that fateful event. “Then I lost you two, now that you’re here, I think it's time to pick up the loose ends,”

“Papa,” Your daughter said in a serious tone. “Just marry Mama! Of course, I’m happy for you two!” Sylus blinked and chuckled. He was a bit nervous the whole day because he was not sure what his daughter thought, he still had yet to know her more. “I only wish Mama and you get married faster!” He chuckled again. “Well, that is if your Mama will say yes and if she wants to,” he said. Your daughter was confused. “Papa, of course, she will say yes. Do you want to marry her already?” Sylus shook his head, it's like dealing with a mini kitten. “Of course, sweetie. If I can marry her the next day after the proposal, I would,” he followed. “Papa, you’re just nervous,” The little girl giggled. “Thank you for the encouragement,” he said, patting her head again. She looks at the ring. “This is the ring before getting married, right, Papa?” she asked. “Yes, an engagement ring. We don’t have wedding rings yet,” he said. “She has to say yes first,”

“Oh! What if I do the rings, Papa?” she asked excitedly. “What do you mean?” he said. “I’ll draw and maybe find someone to make it! Or I’ll choose a good one! Don’t worry, Mama will let me!” She said proudly. Sylus just smiled at his daughter’s enthusiasm. It would also give a deeper meaning, sealed in matrimony till death and the next under their daughter’s hand.

“After our lunch, we will be out today,” Sylus said. “Where are we going?” you asked. “Our daughter asked to go to the mall today. Maybe she wanted new books to read, might as well use this for us to shop as well,”

Your daughter is amazed once again by how luxurious the mall is. It is big and has a lot of nice food and things to offer. Sylus opened his wallet, you saw that the photo in his wallet was a sonogram. You gasped quietly as he turned to you and handed over his black card. “Here, buy whatever you like. Luke and Kieran already have my other card for her,” he looks at the little girl, having fun with the twins as they accompany her. You hold the black card, knowing this is virtually limitless in amount but you notice something else. “That sonogram…” You pointed out his wallet. Sylus blinked and looked at it. “I learned about it from the medical file Luke and Kieran found. It was the only item I had about her,” he responded. He held onto that photo for many years and it did reward him. You smiled. “We can take a photo in a studio or a photobooth together. You can put it beside it,”

You looked at Sylus. He couldn’t stop looking at his wallet. They had just had a photoshoot with their daughter and he now has a new photo beside the sonogram, a solo picture of her. You felt your heart swell in him being happy looking at it as you two are resting in a cafe.

“I hope our little one is enjoying herself,” You said. You missed shopping, but you see the high prices everywhere. Sylus keeps insisting that you get them if you fancy them. “I feel she would like going to a place like a bookstore than in clothes,” he said, making you smile. Sylus shifted, looking serious as he held your hand. “Kitten, I… I would like to bring you somewhere nice. Treat it as a couple's vacation,” he followed. You are surprised, you do want to spend time with him alone, after years of being away from each other. But you remembered your daughter.

“Don’t worry,” he said, placing his hand on top of yours. Our daughter did agree. Luke and Kieran will take care of her… After our trip, we will go with her to another place, and she can choose wherever.” Sylus looked at you; there was a glimmer that he hoped you’d agree.

“Well, okay. This is our first vacation after years,” you said. “Let’s just enjoy it, alright? You deserve it the most,” Sylus said. It is also his first vacation since your disappearance. He got everything prepared, all he needed was your approval.

Now, all is set.

“No sweets after 8 PM alright?” You reminded your daughter. You are at the door giving reminders while Sylus is getting the car ready. “Do call me for emergencies and-”

“Mama, you told me this ten times already! Just enjoy your vacation with Papa, I’ll be alright here with Uncle Luke and Kieran,” You sighed but smiled. This is also the first time that you’ll leave your daughter.

“Alright,” you hugged your daughter and kissed her forehead. Sylus followed and did the same. “We won’t be long, sweetie, I feel a week will be fast at your pace,” he said. He then looked at the twins and nodded. The twins nodded back, alerted, an order to guard her at all costs.

The three waved as Sylus drove away. As the car was in the far distance, the three got excited. “Oh, I hope Missus says yes!”

“She will, you dummy!”

“Yeah! Mama is obviously in love with Papa!” Your daughter crossed her arms, pouting at them. “Okay, time to do our secret wedding plan!”

You are in the private jet with Sylus, you two have been traveling for almost two hours now. You are feeling a bit nervous again as your maternal instincts occupy your thoughts. “Kitten, I can hear your thoughts. Our daughter is fine, I’ll make sure of it,” Sylus said. You smiled at his reassurance. “Sorry, I… I know that,” you replied. “Where are we going anyway?” Sylus gestured for you to look out the window. You did as follows and saw an island. “We’re going to this island?!” You looked in amazement and shock. You heard of this island before, many years ago, you wanted to go here because you heard it is a hidden gem amongst the other getaway islands. You remembered you mentioned it to Sylus at some time many years ago. Your mood completely shifted as you were excited, the view of the island was getting closer as the jet would land soon.

After landing, you are like a little kid, giggling and smiling. You two are being welcomed warmly by the staff, as Sylus lets them carry the luggage. You’re not used to this kind of treatment as Sylus’ hand went to your shoulder. “Sweetie, just enjoy being on your island. We can go on many adventures if you want,” You blinked and looked at him. “What do you mean “your island”?” you said. Sylus walked ahead of you to go to the limousine. “Sylus!” you ran to get to him. “What do you mean by that?!” you huffed. “It’s your island,” he said as he looked down at you. “I… What?!” you stuttered. You’re unable to comprehend what you just heard, this island, this entire island, is yours. “I bought it for you many years ago,” he replied. You just blinked as he guided you to the car, being speechless in the revelation. “How?! Why?! An island?!” you yelled. Sylus rolled his eyes and was irritated but in a teasing way. He poked your forehead before going inside the car. “Because you desired it,”

You still can’t get over that Sylus bought this island, especially since it is for you. You arrive at the resort, which is very lavish. You’re still not used to the special treatment as you shyly follow Sylus to the suite. A few guests are in the lobby using the resort's amenities; they seem very esteemed. You gasp when you see the suite. It is intricate and huge; it looks like a small house already. You ran and looked around the suite like a little kid, amazed at the amenities and the small kitchen where you can cook food. Sylus is amused, feeling a bit of pride that you are enjoying.

“Kitten,” you stopped and turned around as Sylus walked closer and ruffled your hair. “You can use all of the facilities, do pamper yourself before our dinner tonight,”

After that long travel, you used the jacuzzi to relax your nerves. You hear the faint noise of the violin being played in the study room, as Sylus plays music while doing some work. You felt your body relax by the warm water and bubbles beneath you.

“Care for me to join?” you gasped a little and looked behind Sylus with only a towel wrapped around his waist. You blushed in response to his perfectly formed body despite him getting older, trying not to slap yourself so that you don’t need to blush that much in seeing him naked, you two have a child already! You nodded gently as he chuckled and walked towards you. You looked away as you felt the water splash and a heavier body presence was beside you. “Still shy, kitten?” he whispered. “It’s only been a while, but nothing changed between us, is that correct?” He followed. You peeked at him, his eyebrows were slightly furrowed. Your thoughts wander, and you are surprised that nothing sensual has happened between Sylus and you since he found you, maybe he is waiting for you to adjust. You smiled that he was understanding. But it seemed to be a long while indeed. You leaned onto his shoulder as an answer. He hummed, wrapped his arm around your waist, and lifted you to his lap. You squeaked, you thought that he would just put his arm there. “Sylus!”

“Kitten…” He said with his deep voice. His head went to your shoulder. “Just… Let me recharge,” he followed. He was busy the past week, maybe finishing some of his deals before going out on vacation with you. You let the gentle water soothe you both as he seemed to have fallen asleep, he was that tired, you thought. You kissed him on the forehead.

“Thank you, my beloved, for everything,”

You let Sylus rest as you wandered around the island. The staff gladly takes you to a boutique to buy a dress for dinner tonight. As usual, you are surprised by the prices, but the dresses are so pretty. The staff recognized you and assisted instantly, probably Sylus gave an order to them. After roaming the store, you saw a nice short red dress in the corner. It reminded you of Sylus because of the black streaks around the waist. You tried it on and wowed yourself as you twirled around in the fitting room. You go around to get accessories and shoes, especially those black heels with few diamonds, what you love the most is the red bottoms of the shoes.

You then went to a salon to get your hair, nails, and makeup done. You were surprised that it was all paid for, probably by Sylus. By the time you were done, it started raining. Your phone started to ring and it was Sylus (with a red heart at the end of his name).

“Sylus?”

“Kitten, are you outside of the salon?”

“Huh? How did you-” You stopped before realizing this is Sylus you’re talking about. “Okay, okay never mind that… Yes, why?”

“Okay, go back to our suite,”

“I thought we were going to have dinner?”

Sylus sighed. “Kitten, I’ll explain when you get here,” He sounded a bit agitated.

“Alright, I’ll be going there,”

“Okay, ask the staff to accompany you,”

You arrived back at the suite dry and alright. Based on Sylus’ tone on the phone earlier, you felt something was up. You opened the door and saw Sylus wearing a nice red and black suit. “Sylus? Is everything alright?” you asked. In knowing him for years, you can sense his distraught despite his calm demeanor. “Sylus?”

He sighed. “Well, the dinner program was outside but since it was raining, it would be canceled for tonight,” You looked at him, he was probably planning it on this trip and was disappointed with it. “Maybe we can go to the restaurant nearby,” he asked. You hummed and thought. “Or we can have dinner here in the suite! I’ll cook!” Sylus looked at her bewildered then shook his head, he could just suggest they could have room service but… He would want your cooking better.

You started to cook something quick but good enough as a fancy meal. It's the only thing you could do so Sylus won’t be that much mopey. He was probably looking forward to that dinner and watching the sunset together. “Sylus, the meal is done,” you walked to the living room and gasped. The lights are low and there are flowers all around the room. Classical music was playing from his vinyl player, a much more romantic theme this time, complementing the rain pitter-pattering outside. “Oh…” You said as Sylus helped you set the table. You both stared at the table with plates of steak and potatoes with glasses of wine. You managed to get some nice pastries from the nearby patisserie shop.

“I think we did a good job!” You said in glee.

Sylus smiled and felt a good silence between you two, only the slow orchestral music was playing. He offered your hand. “May I have this dance, Miss?” he asked. You chuckled and took his hand. “Of course, though I might step on your foot,” Sylus hummed as he took your hand and held your waist with his other hand. “I’d rather have you step on my foot many times than lose you,” he smirked as he led you on and you blushed in his response. You two circle the room in a waltz, under the music and the rain.

“I still can’t believe you bought an island,” you huffed. “I can give you a planet if you like,” he said, smirking. “What about the universe?” you teased. He spins you in melody, and both of your hearts soar as you breathe at this moment, reminiscing of all the hardships you went through over the years. And still, in the end, he found you through the impossible. “Well, it will take a while, but if that is my beloved’s desire,” You looked at his eyes, from the eyes of menace to the eyes of longing, and now the eyes of eternal love. “I’m okay with anything and anywhere, as long as I’m with you,” you giggled as it was cheesy. He swayed you and did a dip on you. “Then, whether you like it or not, you’ll have me till the end of time,” You gazed at each other, and you thanked the gods that his soul was intertwined with yours in this lifetime, hopefully forever. He brings you back to his arms, slightly panting due to dancing. He gently kissed your hand. You two smiled as he gestured to the table.

“I feel you are famished, let’s have the dinner,”

You are happy seeing Sylus’ mood improve and seem to appreciate your cooking. You are happy just being in the suite with him, eating steak, and listening to soothing classical music. Outside, the rain has stopped as well. You are tired as you yawn, tired from the traveling and dancing. Sylus smiled. You felt he wanted to do more or say something. “Come on, you need to rest. Let’s retire for the night,” he says as he carries you.

You did sleep for a couple of hours. You rouse and see Sylus reading a book. You’re getting his night owl habits when you get together again, but you were really tired yesterday. “Had a nice sleep, sweetie?” he asked. You nodded as you went closer to him, lying your head on his chest.

“Where are we supposed to go to anyway if it wasn’t raining?” you wondered. He stopped and looked away before his eyes went back to you. “Well, I can show you right now, but it rained last night and will be dampened,” You look outside, and you can see the night sky is getting lighter. “It is already dawn, we can check it out,” you smiled. He sighed and smiled. “Alright… Dress nice,” he reminded you.

You and Sylus arrived at a row of trees and an intricate fence in front. You are wearing one of Sylus’ favorite dresses, it is a similar dress to the one when you first danced with him many years ago, while Sylus wears another customized red suit. You thanked the staff for giving you a ride from the hotel’s car. “Let’s go,” he said as he held your hand and entered the fence, then walking through the vast rows of trees. You looked around, it was peaceful and lush. The sunlight is still peeking to the end of the forest, showing the view piece by piece as you get closer. You felt your breath was taken away as you stepped out of the forest. A field of red datura flowers is scattered under you as the sun slowly rises. Everything was damped but it doesn’t matter. No wonder Sylus wanted to go here, it is beautiful.

“Oh! It's so wonderful here, Sylus! So many flowers!” You yelled as you let the breeze touch your skin. You turn around and see Sylus not standing.

But kneeling on one knee, holding a small box.

You blinked, you felt the air being knocked out of your lungs, your heart beating fast as you processed what was happening. It felt like time stood still, petals from flowers wisping around you and him.

“My beloved,” Sylus looked at you and opened the box, revealing the red gem ring. “Will you bind your heart and soul with mine for eternity?” You smiled as tears fell from your cheeks, and you quickly pounced on him, screaming “Yes!”. He was surprised as his reflexes went in sync and caught you as you both rolled together. You ended up being on top of him. He chuckled, smiling wider than usual. He is relieved he held onto the box, he plucked the ring and held your hand, slowly inserting the ring into your ring finger. You stared at the ring, sinking in that you are now engaged. You realized little by little why Sylus was looking a bit nervous and was disappointed the dinner plan didn’t go well. But it did end well from your point of view.

You and Sylus felt immense joy, he looked relaxed now. You plucked three flowers and placed one on his head and one on his shoulder. He hummed and smiled, tucking the last one in your ear. “You know, our daughter wanted us to marry faster,” he said. You chuckled as he wiped your happy tears. “I told her that it is your decision, but if I were asked, I would want it as soon as possible, too,” You laughed and gazed at him with adoration, as he guided your head to move closer to him and kissed. It felt right, like everything was in place again, like a promise being delivered. You parted panting, as it was getting a bit intense.

You smiled mischievously.

“We did our waiting… Okay then, let’s get married after this,”

Back in the N109 Zone base, screams of laughter and cheers were heard from the twins and your daughter as they looked happily from a screen being recorded live by a particular crow flying above.

#love and deepspace #l&ds #lads sylus #love and deepspace fanfic #sylus x mc #sylus x you

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