#they pretty much just one or two shot most of my team every time

[papermaskart]

Man the post-game bosses of yo-kai watch 2 get hard, my adventure team at level 99 don't stand a chance against kabuking and kat kraydel, so ive had to exchange my sons for higher ranked ones that i'm not even sure if they are good that i need to grind up to level 99...

[ervotica]

you’re an angel, i’m a dog — a.donaldson

pairing; older!art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; roughly written, badly edited, not beta’d (because when is it ever?), allusions to smut, implied age gap (reader is early 20s, art is early 30s), slight tashi x fem!reader if you squint, infidelity (but tashi is kinda cool with it), just some thoughts about older!art and his pretty girl

a/n; this concept has been eating at me for daysss so i had to write it at least roughly! should we make this a series? (maybe get patrick involved?🫢) let me know what you think! ART & CHALLENGERS (poly!art & patrick) REQUESTS ARE OPEN! any questions / conversation starters about this particular au are highly appreciated and encouraged!! please come to my inbox 📥 <3

older!art is fucking obsessed with you— you, who comes to every one of his matches, who sits next to his wife in those adorable little tennis skirts you sport just for him, who whoops and cheers from the stands whether he wins or loses.

you’re forbidden fruit. so, naturally, he adores you.

tashi knows, because of course she does. she never pries, never so much as spares you a second glance when he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in your neck and huffs hot air against the shell of your ear. she doesn’t care — you’ve made art better at tennis.

his confidence has skyrocketed since having a pretty thing like you cheering him on, his biggest and most enthusiastic supporter. he plays better, he second guesses himself less, he’s more relaxed.

you’re what’s been missing. the last piece of the puzzle.

an obedient little thing, glued to his side, wagging like a dog at his every command.

he fucking loves it. loves having someone relying on him for love and validation. loves the way you preen under his fervent gaze and flutter your lashes at the slightest touch.

when tashi asks you to join art’s team officially, you almost keel over.

“look, i don’t care that he’s fucking you… or that he’s in love with you. he has a shot at the us open this year, and he needs you by his side to do it.” she says. you’re quick to agree, ever obedient and desperate to please.

“he’s in love with me?”

she scoffs. “you’ve seen the way he looks at you. he almost creams his pants every time you’re in the same room as him.” she tilts your chin upwards with a crooked finger, giving your cheek an affectionate - albeit condescending - pat.

“you two can have your fun— but he has to win this year.”

art’s perched against the doorframe when you turn, corded forearms crossed over his chest. you scrunch your nose, pushing back a smile that crinkles at your eyes despite your efforts.

fucking smitten.

tashi rolls her eyes, a half smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and she nudges you towards him.

“go on.”

he opens his arms in greeting and you’re quick to fall into them, your fingers knotting in the shorn hair at his nape. his chest expands beneath your own as he takes a long breath, and he presses his nose to your pulse point, shuddering.

“love you.” he murmurs into your skin.

“love you more.”

he could cry; he doesn’t remember the last time someone told him they loved him and meant it. you’re obsessed with him, almost as much as he is with you.

at his next match, you carry his rackets and send him off with a good luck kiss that has him breathless, grinning as you roll his wad of gum between your teeth that you sucked right from his waiting mouth.

he wins.

how could he not with his pretty girl watching?

and that night, he rewards you with a thorough fucking, whispered love confessions against your lips, and a breathy moan as he cums that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

so, yeah. maybe this life isn’t so bad, after all.

[dollfacefantasy]

make up sex w/ billy butcher ♡

billy butcher x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink a/n: eeeee i'm so excited for the last episode

Weeks of torture lead to this. Almost a month of clipped tones and cold stares, fake smiles and pushing the line between love and hate. It all leads to nights like tonight. They were why you put up with all of it.

You and Butcher had a fight a couple weeks ago. It wasn't relationship ending, but it was more tense than most. Strained the two of you enough that the rest of the team could tell something was up.

But right now, you couldn't even remember what the disagreement had been about. Something with some recon assignment - he should've done this, or you should've been somewhere. It was currently lost in your mind because it was hard to care about anything else when the swollen tip of his cock was nudging against all the right spots inside you.

He had you on your back in his bed, his arms hooked behind your knees to keep you in place. You had your arms around his neck the best you could. You wanted him as close as possible. As much as he'd pissed you off, you really did miss him.

You missed the soft, syrupy headspace he could coax you into. The one that made you look at him like he hung the moon and stars and sculpted all the earth's mountains. The one you were in at this moment.

"Daddyyyyy," you whine for him, your arms closing tighter over his shoulders.

A breathy groan rumbles against your neck. It made him feel so fucking pathetic, but every time you said that it was like a spool of ribbon unraveled in his belly. The words that follow don't even feel like his own. It's like they've been carved into his consciousness by some divine being that ensures your pussy never strays too far from him.

"Daddy's here, baby. Daddy's right here. He's taking care of you."

Those mumbled reassurances have your walls constricting around him, trying to lure him further in and then lock him down there forever. He feels your thighs trembling so hard against his sides that they're practically vibrating. You needed this.

"Fuck, you're gonna push me out. Too fucking tight," he grunts.

"Nuh uh, daddy's too fucking big," you laugh and nudge the side of his head with your nose.

He glances over at you, chuckling at your dopey smile. His mouth lands on yours for a sloppy kiss. Your lips slide against one another with the momentum of his thrusts.

"Yeah? Or is flattery how you apologize, love?" he teases.

That gets a laugh out of you. "It's not flattery if it's true."

Your giggles are cut short by more of your own moaning, the sweet bursts of joy morphing into whiny cries. You try to roll your hips up to meet his pelvis, to get him even deeper, to get more friction on your throbbing clit.

If you were more lucid, you'd feel how smug he was oozing off of him. He took great pride in the fact that he could get you like this. That he could take you, totally capable and independent, and fuck you till you were whimpering daddy and rutting against him like it was all you were good for.

"You want it bad, don't you? I could probably sit still and let you just fuck yourself on my cock and get the same feeling," he murmurs.

That earns him a wild head shake from you. "Noooo," you plead, "Not the same as when daddy does it."

"Oh, not the same, hm?" he mocks, "Guess I have to keep going then. Can't leave you unsatisfied."

Your head bobs up and down as you nod. You were getting so close. It'd be plain cruel to tease you like that now. He was getting close too. The pulsating warmth of your hole was too much for him to resist much longer.

"Where do you want it, baby?" he asks mid-pump.

"Inside, daddy. Pretty pretty please. Need it inside," you beg automatically.

He'd have to be evil not to give you a creampie right now. Not after the weeks you spent abstaining from his cock. No, tonight you needed his load shot deep in your cunt.

"My girl," he coos and pecks your temple, "You need the reminder of who you belong to."

You nod eagerly. You needed the physical manifestation of the end of this fight. The ropes of his cum fired inside you would seal the deal.

So that's what he does. You squeal, and your entire body contracts as the bubble of euphoria inside you pops. Your hands scramble to grab at him.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy. Fuck, fuck, fuck," pours from your lips.

He strengthens his hold on you, presses you down so hard into the mattress that it's shocking the wood doesn't snap. He chokes out a loud groan and unloads himself inside you. His hips fuck against you in sharp bursts. His breaths come out in rough pants. As much as he loved what he did to you, what you did to him was a sight to behold as well.

When you've both come down, he rolls off of you. You both get the chance to breathe and cool down, before he tugs you close again and nuzzles the top of your head.

"You feel better now, darling?" he smirks against your hair.

"Mhm," you answer with a dreamy sigh, "Never gonna fight again."

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

— one shot.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: when he’s got the grills on, the world goes feral however only you get to experience them

warnings: buckle up. cussing(the n word), smut (18+ MDNI): lewis is a munch!

saint’s team radio 🎀: y’all, do not judge me for making this 🤣. that short ass video made do this 🫦 (this is very short but i love it!)

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @httpsserene @queenshikongo3 @canyouimangine @yeea-nah @purplelewlew @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @exotic-iris13 @sageispunk @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @emjayewrites

pls like, reblog and comment! 🫶🏽

general masterlist!

-

You could barely control yourself.

It was a hot day in Los Angeles with temperatures reaching really high, so much so that you two had to get out of the house for a little drive. Lewis has remembered that he was supposed to pick up something from his jeweller, something that would surprise you.

And surprised you were.

The cool glass underneath your arm wasn’t enough to cool down your entire body as you leaned on the display case in the store. You crossed your legs, tightening your fists and playing with your nails. Anything, anything in the world to distract you from the sight before you.

There stood your man, trying on his different sets of grillz that he ordered a while back. He would flash that million dollar smile at you every time he tried on a new set, knowing very well what the pieces of jewellery do to you. Lewis checked himself in the mirror, evaluating the sets and how they look on him.

“What about this one, love?” He turned to you, smiling to show them off. This design was intricate and beautiful. Both the top fangs were plain gold with the number ‘44’ etched into them with the bottom grill running a straight line between his sharp canines, the middle encrusted with diamonds.

“Yeahhh,” You dragged out, sounding rather exasperated. “This one has to be my favourite.” Clearly your throat afterwards, your voice became slightly higher. The heat between your legs was throbbing at this point.

Lewis gave you a slick once over and turned back to the mirror with a smug smile. “You said that about all of them but thank you, baby.” He winked. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, reading you like an open book.

You, on the other hand, were petrified that your arousal could escape onto your pants anytime now that Lewis was deliberately moving slowly just to annoy you.

Just to see your reaction, just to hear you.

-

“I wanna hear you, okay? Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me, baby.” Lewis spoke, his knees already on the ground next to your shared bed.

You nod at his words, relieved that you were finally going to be relieved by him, by his mouth. He had no problem in teasing you about it on the car ride home, his large hand ghosting over your most intimate parts from time to time.

Lewis was very careful when taking off your shorts, wanting to savour this moment. Your slight panting made this all the more better. The glint of gold appeared as he smirked at you, watching you all desperate for his touch.

He settled in between your legs, his favourite spot to be at, moving your thighs to sit on his shoulders. Moving his mouth in a gentle but agonisingly slow manner, he placed kisses on your thighs and he knew you were ready for the main event.

“Lewis, please….” You breathed out a moan, feeling the slight sharpness of his grillz biting down on your inner thigh before continuing his kisses. When he got to the place where you wanted him, Lewis paused.

With a throaty chuckle, he bumped his nose just above your clit, making you squirm. “Look at how wet you are for me, princess. Could eat you all day…” Lewis trailed off, moving your lace panties to the side. You were puffy and swollen, your cunt glistening with your juices and he loved this.

By flattening his tongue, he swiped one lick with the taste of his wife already sitting on his lips. “Fuck, baby…” the man groaned before diving in.

He ate you out as if he was a starved man. Lewis made sure to pay special attention to your clit, sucking on it while using his tongue simultaneously. His large hands had trailed down to your hips to pull you closer before bringing his right hand to begin playing within your folds,

“You like that, princess? You like what Daddy’s doing to you, yeah?” He groaned against your pussy. In the slowest speed, he entered two digits inside of you, preparing you for what’s next.

Your excessive moaning had prevented you from engaging in dirty talk, your back arching in ways you never thought with his tattooed fingers buried deep inside you. Feeling the all too familiar drop in your stomach, you grabbed onto his head and pulled on his braids as you ground on his face a bit more.

With soft panting, you managed to find your voice. “Baby…I’m close, I’m so…oh my fuck.” You moaned at the feeling of his tongue spelling out his name as you neared your orgasm. “Fuck, Lewis! F-Fuck!” The groans were much louder than before.

“Let it all out, baby. I got you.” He spoke, sucking on your clit one last time with the diamonds grazing over it. That sensation snapped in your belly and you came hard. Lewis made sure to slurp up every last drop of your essence before he slowly stood up, licking his lips and flashing his grillz at you.

“You had fun?” He taunted, knowing you were breathless from the cunnilingus he just did on you. “Nigga, did you..spell your name on it?” You panted, the after effects of such an intense orgasm still washing over you.

He nodded proudly. “And I can do it again, I’ll add the ‘Sir’ this time.”

-

saint’s notes: AHHHHHHHHHH

[leah-lover]

Behind her eyes.WNBA!reader x Alexia putellas.

Summary: Alexia and R's relationship is tested after what happened at one of r's basketball games

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

Your girlfriend’s eyes were the reason why you fell in love with her. They were the first thing that caught your attention when it came to her and they are the thing you looked for when you were lost, upset or angry.

You first noticed her hazel eyes when she sat court side at one of your games in barcelona. You had just joined the catalonian team after the end of the wnba season. It was your first time playing in the Spanish league. In fact, it was your first time playing overseas and you didn't acclimate very well. You didn't know anybody, you didn't speak the language, you were just lonely and homesick.

It all changed on one home game, alexia came with a bunch of her teammates to support your new team, she sat courtside and watched attentivly as your team played valencia. You weren't feeling like yourself in your new home yet so you hadn't put on your usual performance. It all changed when you got fouled and fell directly in front of her. Angry, you wanted to pick a fight with the player that fouled you but you got distracted by a perfect face or more less a pair of dreamy eyes. They took you back for a moment and you kept thinking about them for a couple plays. You even glanced at her direction when you weren't moving the ball. She lit a fire inside of you, one that you have been trying to ignite ever since you left the US. You had to do better, you had to impress this person and leave an impression on her.

After the break, in the 3rd quarter, you put your game face on and started to direct play on the floor. You shot 3s, layups, blocked shots, assisted your teammates and over all controlled play. By the end of the game, the crowd was loud , and your team was leading the game by 20 points, which is the most this team has ever led with . You were happy, and you were yourself again.

You were celebrating with your teammates and coach when the social media manager came to you and asked you to come take a picture with alexia and her teammates. You got nervous all of a sudden but you tried to keep your cool. You introduced yourself, took the photo and tried as much as you could to memorize her features.

“ Hey, your shooting ability is impressive.” she says, her spanish accent apparent in her english.

“ What we do here is easy compared to controlling a ball with your feet, and running on the giant field you guys play in for 90 minutes.” you reply.

“ I guess every sport has its ups and downs.” she added.

“ You want to take some shots?” you invited her while bouncing the ball on the floor. She hesitantly accepted and so you helped her by correcting her form allowing her to take shots.

“ Holy shit you might be coming for my job.” you complimented her.

“ I don't think so. I am pretty attached to football, or as you people say soccer.” she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“ don't count me in with those people calling it soccer and not football is pretty stupid.” you take another shot while holding eye contact with alexia. “ Besides, I am pretty damn good at my job.”

You two continue talking about the differences of your sports all the way down to the locker room where alexia’s teammates were waiting for her.

“ Come on, capi, we're gonna be late. “ says one of her teammates.

“ I came to one of your games, now it's your turn to come to mine.”

“ will do capi.” you joked before giving her a kiss goodbye.

Throughout the next couple of months you went to every game of hers you could and she did the same to you. You always stayed late talking, laughing, sometimes even practicing each other's sports after every game.

Talking after the game turned into dinners, then sex, and eventually you two started dating. You met her friends and family, and slept regularly at her house when you were in barcelona.

Your life seemed perfect, you were in your A game, you had a gorgeous girlfriend and you two loved the hell out of each other, you had friends in this strange new country who you would go out to brunch with on the weekend. You frankly were the happiest person in the world. Well, that only lasted for about 8 months.

It all happened at once in one second your perfect life came crashing down. During the playoffs, It was a regular 1v1 battle, you tried to turn around and make a shot but your knee thought otherwise and caused you to fall to the floor and scream out loud. The pain was inimaginable. Quickly, tears were streaming down your face, your teammates formed a huddle around you to shield you from the cameras, and the medic came rushing towards you.

“ hey do you hear me?” she asked. It was hard for you to focus. But all of a sudden it became clear, you didn't feel the pain anymore, and you stopped crying.

“ Non-contact injury, my knee, it's an ACL tear right?” you looked at the medic with a little hope in your eyes.

“ most likely. I am so sorry.” she said as she and her assistant tried to pull you up and help you hop to the locker room.

On the way there you look to your left and see a scared alexia. You looked at her eyes where you usually find solace and hope only to find sympathy and fear. She gave a reassuring smile but you looked at the ground immediately.

Once in the locker room, the medics began explaining the situation.

“ I know everything that’s gonna happen, I have been through this before. Its hard and it fucking sucks. I just want to go home now. I will be back tomorrow for scans.”

The medical team complies with your request and helps you go to the locker room to collect your things. Once you find yourself alone you smash one of your crutches on the ground multiple times, you bend the steel. You weren't proud of what alexia saw when she came in to check on you but you had to get the anger out of you. You would find out later that the crutch didn't get all of it.

Throughout the whole car ride flashes of the pain of rehab and hard work you put on only 3 years ago flooded your memory. You only got out of your head when you noticed the route that the car you were in was taking.

“ alexia i want to go home.” you say in a surprisingly harsh tone. She didn't look at you and continued driving.

“ alexia.” you repeat again.

“ You are not gonna scare me into pulling away from you.” she replied calmly.

“ Alexia, I just want to go home.” you say again not giving up your harsh tone.

“ we are going home amor. Home where I can be with you and take care of you.” .

“ I didn't ask you to. Just take me to my fucking house.”

What you said seemed to anger her so she pulled over. “ Let's get this out of the way now. First you are not going to drive me away, I love and I won't let you go. Second , you don't talk to me like that, not with that town and ot with those words. Third, call me Alexia again and you won't like what happens.” she shares eye contact with you again before putting her seat belt back on and driving home.

You didn't say a word through the rest of the car ride, you just dove into the sea of painful memories your brain prepared for you. When alexia notices your sudden change of demeanor, she puts her hand on your thigh only for you to flinch. You flinching at her touch meant that you were thinking about your past relationship and that's when alexia put two and two together.

You didn't realize that you two were home until Alexia opened your door and handed you your crutches.

“ alexia just take me to my house.”

“ We will talk about it upstairs, come one.”

You felt sick to your stomach, all you wanted to do was throw yourself in her arms and let her stroke your hair and scratch your back until you fell asleep.

Outside in the world and to the media your personality was larger than the world. You were loud, fun , playful, and funny. When you came you closed the door behind you and your girlfriend you craved to just lay on her and let her take care of you. However you were too proud to ever say anything out of fear she might not like the other side of the coin.

“Bébé talk to me please.”

You tried to keep your mouth shut. You tried so hard to swallow your words. But you could you couldn't keep it in anymore.

“ I am just so tired of pretending.” you whisper.

“ louder mi amor.”

“ This person I am about to become is grumpy, sad, angry and in pain. I am not gonna be the fun cocky person anymore. I have been through this before. It never fails to break me so please just take me home . I want to go home,and cry about my season at home that I lost. I want to cry about the fact that I will go through this miserable journey again. I want to cry about the fact that all I want is to be held by my girlfriend but I can't ask for that because I am afraid you will leave me. i just want to fucking cry.” by now you were hysterically crying and yelling. Alexia was holding you tight , her hands were becoming white.

“ I love you so much.” she just kept repeating that phrase over and over until you calmed down.

“ I will never leave you. I would love to hold you and take care of you and I don't pity you. You just had a fantastic season in a strange country and I am so proud of that and we will battle this together. “ she continued to rub your arms and whisper how much she loved you no matter what your mood was. You couldn't resist the temptation to drop your guard and be who you are anymore.

“ promise you will never leave me ale.” you plead.

“ I promise you that I will never leave. I am so sorry I didn't make you sure enough in my love for you. I promise you to do better.”

“ Can you help me take a bath and go to bed then. tomorrow is gonna be tough i need to sleep.

“ alright amor but first i want to hold you some more and stroke your hair.”

Somehow , She knew that that's what you ached for the most.

You turn your head and look into her eyes again to find love and admiration instead of the sympathy and fear that was there before so you relaxed and let her take care of you.

You knew since the moment you saw her that her eyes were your saving grace.

[unlosts]

Two Pair.

Summary: After a rough case Spencer keeps you company while the rest of the BAU sleeps.

A/N: I posted and then deleted this right away, but here it is again. I'm working on a couple of longer one shots but I still wanted to get something shorter out.

“Okay, whatcha got?” You ask, eyes narrowed taking in the lanky 6’ something man sitting across from you, his expression unreadable.

“I have a two pair” He says, sounding resigned, probably already well aware that he’s about to lose.

For the second time in a row. 

“Ha! A straight flush! Read em’ and weep doc” You said smugly, and perhaps a tad too loudly since what comes next is a loud shushing noise from the lump in the couch formerly known as Derek Morgan. 

“Sorry” You whisper back. It’s around 2am and most of the team is sound asleep, even Hotch who’s usually the last one out, the only ones still awake were you; whose adrenaline was still pumping strong after a car chase resulting in a very near miss, and a very much dead suspect. It had left you jittery and off balance, the sensation of failure hanging heavy on your shoulders and leaving you unable to close your eyes for even a few minutes, much less sleep. 

Spencer seemed to be in a similar state even though he had been left at the station, working on the geographical profile when you headed out. 

So three rounds and two winning hands later here you sat, no closer to sleep than before but his company was soothing.

Spencer operated on a set of carefully crafted routines, from his mornings in the bullpen at the BAU (One coffee with at least four suggars, eight crossword puzzles and at the very least a couple of newspapers before he could start on the seemingly never ending pile of case files haunting his desk), to the post case decompression routine (A chess match against himself or a poker game, usually against you). 

You found it soothing to watch, the expected repetition letting you know that you could relax, that everything was over with. 

So here you sat, in the back of the plane with only Spence’s long legs crammed in the smaller seat in front of you, knees bumping yours every time you so much as breathed.

His book light was the only thing illuminating your poker game and the harsh shadows cast over the table did make it harder to distinguish the numbers (the fact that you were refusing to use your glasses didn’t help either). 

A small stack of peanuts sits between you both, acting as poker chips. 

Despite your clear gloating Spencer just smiles at you, seemingly equally pleased, and keeping his losing hand close to his chest. 

“So, feeling any better?” He asks while shuffling the deck. You go towards the kitchen, softly squeezing Spencer's shoulder in gratitude as you pass by him. The tense wiry muscle underneath his soft purple shirt gives in to your touch and you linger for a second, giving him a small smile before you go. 

“Much, in fact i’m going to get a cup of tea and hopefully doze off for a couple of hours” You reply from the kitchen. 

“Remind me again of the chances of winning twice in a row?” Chimes in Derek unexpectedly from the couch, his eyes are still closed and even though you can’t see him he’s sporting a knowing smirk. 

“Um well it’s about 4% actually” Answers Spencer awkwardly, giving the kitchen a furtive look to make sure you’re not really paying attention to the conversation. 

“Huh, guess I must have gotten pretty lucky then” You say, too busy making your tea to hear Derek's response to Spencer, quiet but still teasing exclamation of “My man”

But when you did return to your seat right next to him you couldn’t help but notice that his cheeks were a tad pinker than they had been before. 

[mcrdvcks]

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

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

word count: 9.1k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

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

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

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

series masterlist - chapter 8, chapter 8.5 → chapter 10

“What the hell was that?” Ororo asked.

“Danger Room session.” Logan answered.

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh, lighten up, Storm.”

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

“I taught ‘em something.”

“It was a defensive exercise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Logan shrugged. “Sometimes a good offense—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

“Professor, you okay?” Logan asked.

“Get to Alkali Lake.”

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

“Is she gonna be okay?” You asked.

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

“W-what?” You muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She has to be.”

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

“Jean,” you said softly.

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

“You okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jean’s eyes were closed, “no.”

“Jean. Jean! Focus.”

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

“What?” You whispered in disbelief.

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

“No, don’t say that- ”

“Please.”

“Stop.”

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

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

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

---

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

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

“What happened?” Logan asked.

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” you whispered.

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

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

Not again.

---

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

But the quiet didn’t last.

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

“Y/N…”

Your name.

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

“Y/N…”

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

“Where… where am I?”

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Logan—”

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

A vision.

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

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

You’d seen him die.

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

“No. Not for them.”

And then—nothing.

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

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

He can’t do this alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry, Jean.”

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

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

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

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

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

You heard Logan’s voice before anything else.

“Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Logan…” Ororo began softly, stepping forward.

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

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

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

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

[writing-until-i-drop]

Car Sex | Tyler Owens x reader | wc: 779

No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings! fingering, dirty talk, Tyler's got a dirty mouth, unprotected p in v (don't forget the condom), lmk if I missed anything

Ao3

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Tyler had to laugh at the change in you over the last year. The first time you had driven into a tornado with him, you had been scared shitless, your nails scratching the leather of the seats from how hard you hand dug them in. That video was still one of the most popular on the channel, at first you had been embarrassed but now you wore it like a badge of honor, of how far you’d come. Now it seemed every time you drove into a tornado with him, it made you hornier than sin. You’d even tried to have sex in a tornado once but Tyler had shot down the suggestion, citing the dangers of being that distracted when there was debris flying around.

Thankfully for his sanity, the team wasn’t riding with you two today, but the second the truck stopped rocking, you were unbuckling your harness. Tyler adjusted the driver’s seat all the way back, preparing for you, before working on his own harness. You were on him the second it was undone.

“Sweetheart, you are insatiable,” 

“Are you complaining, Cowboy?” His baseball cap landed in the backseat, Tyler groaned as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Because it doesn’t feel like you are,” You ground down against him.

“Never complaining, Sweetheart,” Your shirt joined his hat in the backseat. Tyler ran his hands over the smooth skin of your back, unclipping your bra. God, the sight of you naked in front of him would never get old. Tyler loved everything about you, your sense of humor, the way you smiled at him, how you interacted with the fans, and he even loved the way you put your cold feet against him just for giggles. 

“Are you sure we can’t do this in a tornado?” You fumbled with his belt buckle, “Just a teeny, tiny, EF-1?” 

“I made a mistake turning you into an adrenaline junkie,” Tyler helped you with his jeans, pushing them down to his knees, then pulling down your shorts. Next to go was his shirt.

“I’ll win you over one day,” You kissed him hungrily. Tyler was sure you’d try to convince him but he would always put your safety first. He reached between you, pushing aside your underwear, finding you already wet for him. He closed his eyes, slipping a finger inside of you. Fuck, he loved how turned on you got after a tornado, but he’d never tell you that. It would just encourage you. “Tyler,” You moaned, resting your head on his shoulder, grinding yourself down on his hand.

“That’s it, pretty girl, cum for me,” You shook your head, whining. Tyler smirked, knowing exactly what that meant. “Need a little more? Yeah, you always need more of me. Don’t you, baby?” He added a second finger, swallowing your mons with a kiss as your first orgasm washed over you. He’d be damned if you only came once when you were with him. Twice was the minimum. 

“Need you,” You whined when he removed his fingers but he didn’t leave you wanting for long, guiding you down on his cock. “So good,” You buried your face in his neck, letting Tyler do all the work. Not that he was complaining. 

“Taking me so well,” He thrust upwards, burying himself inside of you. “You’re so fucking good for me.” 

“Love you so much,” You kissed Tyler, moaning into his mouth as he set as fast as of a pace as the cramped space would let him.

“I love you too baby,” He wasn’t going to last long with you squeezing him like a vice. “Cum with me, get yourself there.” It didn’t take long for you to have worked yourself up, you head thrown back, the perfect position for Tyler to add to the collection of fading hickeys on your neck. He loved seeing you with his marks on your neck, a clear sign to other chasers and to everyone on the internet that you were his. 

“Gonna cum,” You moaned, stroking Tyler’s ego with how fucking hot you sounded. He wasn’t far behind you.

“Cum for me, baby. Want to feel you cumming on my cock,” His words sent you over the edge, Tyler following right after you, spilling inside of you as he continued to move you up and down on him, squeezing your hips tight. 

After a few minutes, sitting in silence, trading soft kisses and I love yous, you grinned at him, biting your bottom lip.

“You sure we can’t do round two in a tornado?” Tyler groaned, head dropping onto your shoulder. He blamed the post-orgasm brain rot for even considering the idea.

Taglist: @wanderingsoul6261 @halflifejess @kyemna @alipap3 @yutangwl @teacupsandtopgun @glenpowellluver @closetspngirl @that-one-fangirl69 @starshinegrl @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @sarah-bear706318 @shanimallina87 @atuman @carolina-on-my-mind03 @winelover27 @cherrycola27 @cevansbaby-dove

[luvlystarr]

︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵

Prompt: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader, you two promised to get married Content: Angst

︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵

"Simon," you called out. "What?" "If we're old and we're still not in a relationship, let's get married." Simon scoffed at the thought. It was a stupid idea, really. Who would want to marry a guy like him? Someone who’s hands are tainted with people’s blood, someone who’s deeply scarred. He wouldn't want that upon anybody, especially not you. "You couldn't come up with a better plan? And why me?" He asked. "Well, for starters, you're a good person, you know me pretty well, even my grandma likes you." Simon couldn't help but laugh. Although he thought it was really dumb, he felt somewhat honored. He could remember that day like it was yesterday, even though it had been well over a decade since that deal was made. The two of you rose up the ranks, even becoming partners at a special task force team. And, as unfortunate it is, both of you two aren't in a relationship.

Maybe it was meant to be, after all, you two ended up falling for each other. Although, no one decided to speak up about it. You thought he simply saw you as a friend while Simon thought you had eyes for someone else. Oh how he regretted not telling you sooner. The weight in his chest every time he thought about his unspoken love for you was draining him. If he had told you maybe you two would've gotten married, just like you guys promised, maybe even retire to raise a happy family. Yet instead he found himself, kneeling beside your weak and dying body. Blood stained your uniform as you laid there, exhausted. Your beautiful face that often was tinted with a pink hue was now sickeningly pale.

Simon applied pressure to your wound, yet it was no use. The damage had been done and you lost too much blood. His hands began to shake uncontrollably as he tried to fish for anything useful in his pockets. "Y/n, stay with me! They're almost here!" Simon reassured you. Rather, he was reassuring himself that everything will be okay, that you will be given another chance in this life with him. You slowly reached your hand up to cup Simon's face. In all of the years you've known him, you never saw this panicked look in his eyes. Simon was always calm and collected, even in the worst situations. Yet right now, he looked like he didn't know what to do for the first time in forever.

"Simon... It's okay..." You uttered. "Calm down, okay? Everything will be alright." It seemed like you accepted your fate already. But Simon wasn't ready, he didn't want to say goodbye. "For fuck's sake, you're bleeding!" Simon's hand went back to his radio. "Where the hell is medevac?! I need it now!" He yelled into it. He continued to go back and forth with whoever was at the other end before he slowly let go of the radio. All hope had left him. His shoulders fell slump as he leaned onto your body. He was eerily quiet. "Just hold on for five more minutes, yeah?" He muttered, doing everything he can to hold back his tears. You placed a hand on his back, hoping it'll calm him down. "Simon... look at me," you whispered. In most cases, he would've done so. He never admitted it but he adored your eyes. Right now though, he couldn't bring himself to even look at you. The life in your eyes were being sucked away too quickly for him and he didn't want to witness it. Hesitantly, he finally looked at you. Tears were brimming his eyes which blurred his vision. He had already ditched his mask yet he still had trouble breathing. It was like all the air in his body had disappeared the moment you were shot.

"I won't make it," you admitted. "But I'm okay with that, you know..? I mean, I don't regret the life I lived." A tired smile curled your lips.

Simon shook his head. "Don't say that..." His voice was breaking.

"But I do regret not telling you that I love you," you chuckled lightly. "It's too late, huh?"

At this point, the walls that Simon had built to keep his emotions hidden was now broken. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he listened to your words.

His hand found its way to yours and he held it tightly, like he was so afraid to lose you.

"I... fuck, you're making this more difficult than it has to be, love," Simon uttered.

He remembered he used to call you that stupid nickname as a joke, yet it stuck with the two of you.

"We were supposed to get married, like we promised back then, remember?" Simon chuckled dryly. "That dumb plan you made up back then... it's all I want right now."

You nodded your head. "Yeah, of course I remember," you spoke as your other hand wiped away his tears.

As Simon held your hand in his, all he could imagine was a simple ring hugging your finger. If only that could become reality. If only he knew that marrying you was the best choice he could've made.

He lifted your hand closer to his lips, kissing it softly and keeping it there.

"I love you..." Simon whispered.

"I love you too, Simon," you breathed out one last time.

︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵︵‿︵

[elordilover]

Hii! Could you write a walker scobell x actress reader fic where she's new to acting and her first acting role is in the pjo show? Thank you!!

i love this!! thanks so much for the request! 💐

more than best friends

pairing: walker scobell x fem!reader

summary: you are casted as annabeth for the pjo series and become best friends with your co-star, walker.

warnings: nothing really! not proof read, reader plays annabeth in the seires, half social media

————————————————————————

yourusername- i am so honored to finally tell you that am part of this project! this cast has become family. i’m so excited for everyone to watch it, meet you at camp half-blood: december 20th 🌩️⚡️🌊

walkerscobell- so honored to be able to work with you, and call you my best friend 💐♥️

percyjacksonseries- ⚡️⚡️⚡️

view more comments……..

—————

everyone on the cast just announced their spots in the series, it was your first time doing this so you were a bit nervous. you watched your phone as all the positive comments started to roll in.

you heard the door to your trailer open and saw a familiar face, walker. you would never admit this to anyone, but you did sort of have a crush on him. but you had to put the admiration to the side now that he was your co-star.

“Y/N, do you want to go grab food since we’re done shooting for the day?”, he asked you.

“sure! where are we going?”, you replied as you got up and started exiting your trailer.

“i don’t know, in-n-out?”

“yeah, sure”, you said as you walked to the car.

the whole car ride was filled with scream-singing to one direction songs, it was amazing. the light that shined through his hair made you admire him even more. how the sunshine made his eyes sparkle. the way his smile grew when you were both singing along to the music that shaped both of your childhoods. you had always dreamed of nights like this, now they became your reality. your only wish was that he would see you as more than a friend.

—————

the next day you arrived to set early and we r straight to the hair and makeup trailer, which was were walker was also. you couldn’t wait to see him.

“hey Y/N, how are you?” walker asked as you walked through the door.

“i’m good, a little tired tho, how about you?” you replied.

“i’m good!”, he said.

you two fell into easy conversation while getting makeup done, or getting your hair fixed. it was always easy with him, you always felt safe and at home while you were with walker. it was just something about him.

—————

“action!”, you heard and immediately started to act out your scene with walker. it was going to be in the finale episode, where you place your necklace around his neck. it was supposed to be a little romantic, but it shouldn’t have affected you this much.

walker’s deep blue eyes stared you down, your cheeks immediately turned a deep shade of red. it was embarrassing, everyone on set would notice your admiration toward walker.

walker started laughing, most likely from your eye contact. almost every scene you guys shot together ended up like this, you and walker would burst out laughing. almost every scene had to be reshot many many times.

you shot the scene again and again until it was perfect. your cheeks still burning many minutes after.

—————

after many long hours of shooting, walker entered into your trailer to hang out with you. it had become a nightly ritual for you guys. you would lay on your couch and scroll on tiktok, showing each other the funniest ones.

after minutes of scrolling walker tilted his phone toward you. you noticed the tiktok featured you and walker. it was an edit shipping you two. it used clips from different moments from the press tour, and red carpet events.

“i mean… it’s a good edit”, you said nervously. you secretly loved seeing tiktok’s like these.

“yeah i agree, it’s one of the better ones i’ve seen. we look pretty good together, we make a great team”, walker replied not knowing how that last sentence would effect you.

“we sure do”, you agreed as both you and walker’s cheeks turned red.

—————

the other members of the cast had noticed how close you and walker had gotten, when you weren’t together, you guys were texting, and if you weren’t texting, you were probably asleep. aryan had brought it up to you last week, he said how everyone saw how you guys looked at each other, and how you were both always blushing when you had scenes together. you didn’t believe him though.

—————

filming had come to an end and you were definitely going to miss your new best friends, especially walker. you two had agreed to call and text as much as you could till you could be back together for the press tour.

—————

yourusername- filming this show was the best experience of my life, thank you to everyone who was involved in creating this amazing series. love you all ♥️

the first two episodes are out now! 🌩️⚡️🌊

walkerscobell- SO EXCITED‼️‼️‼️

percyjacksonseries- oh my god

walkerfan- Y/N’s feeding us with this bts content

Y/Nfan- it’s sooooooo good

walkerscobell- first two episodes. out now. 🌩️🌊

i love everyone on this cast so much, they have become my family, so so so thankful for everyone who got me here

yourusername- GO BEST FRIEND ‼️‼️‼️

percyjacksonseries- watching rn.

walkerfan13- PERCYBETH 😭😭😭

Y/Nfan- Y/N X WALKER CONTENT 🎉

—————

after the cast party, you decided to go over to walker’s place before your parents came and got you.

“hey Y/N, i kind of wanted to tell you something”, walker said nervously, “ever since i first met you you’ve inspired me so much and i just wanted to say that i really like you, in more than a friend way”, he rambled out.

you thought you were dreaming, no way he just said that. you stared at him for a second before kissing him, it was just a simple peck but you hope it got your point across.

“wait, you like me too?”

“of course, of course i do” you replied, noticing how red walker’s cheeks were.

he leaned in and gave you another kiss, you couldn’t believe this was real life.

—————

after a couple of months, many interviews, many nights on facetime, many ship edits being sent to each other, many days of secretly dating. you both decided to make your relationship public.

yourusername- my mom approves

comments on this post have been limited…..

walkerscobell- percybeth irl

comments on this post have been limited……

————————————————————————

thanks for reading, please send feedback and more requests!

🎀🧡🐞🫀⭐️🥥🫶🏻🐝🪻🪩🌎🪷🥿🫧🫐🧿🪞

[sailorholly]

Strictly Business Pt 1

Summary: Spencer wants to gain sexual experience before asking his out his dream date. You just want a way to release stress. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of crime scenes/cases. Friends with benefits. Eventual smut.

W/C: 1.5K

You roll your eyes at Officer Brewer. The handsome cop came on pretty strong with his cheesy pickup lines. Each one was more inappropriate than the last. It’s not that you didn’t find him attractive, but in your five years at the BAU, you had learned not to hook up with the officers you were assisting.

You had only been with the team three months when you were called in to help Portland’s local police on a case. Deputy Julian Lopez had been assigned to assist you on the field and you quickly fell for him. It took six weeks to catch the unsub. During that time, you and Julian were sneaking around, having a secret relationship.

You were heartbroken to learn he had been using you for information he fed to the media to make himself look like the sole hero on the case. What made it worse was the scolding Hotch gave you. You should have known better.

You and your favorite coworker, Spencer were on your way out of the small police station to see the medical examiner. A jogger had stumbled across two bodies in the woods on their daily route. The two of you were going to see if you could find any similarities between them.

“Hey beanpole, take care of my girl for me.” Brewer called out to Reid, winking at you in a way that made bile rise in your throat. “You don’t actually like that guy, do you?” Spencer asked once you left. “No way! I just flirt with him to make sure he cooperates with us.”

Spencer took his plump bottom lip between his teeth. You watched the innocent act wondering what it would feel like to have his teeth sink into your lip like that. You were attracted to Spencer, there was no denying that. It was purely sexual though. You knew the kind of hectic life JJ and Will had. You wanted no part of that.

You didn’t understand why there wasn’t a pile of women at his feet at all times. But so many thought he was too awkward or talked too much. You found it endearing when he shared the information his brain retained from reading something only once.

The two of you were closest to each other out of everyone on the team. You read together on the way home from cases. You would let him look at the latest book you were reading. He would finish it in three minutes, then continue with his own. Once you had finished, he would discuss it with you. You loved that about him.

You mostly read smutty romance, and you looked forward to the blush that would flood his cheeks when he read a particularly spicy scene. Sometimes he would clear his throat and shift in his seat. Those were your favorite moments. You spent most of your spare time together watching movies, you were teaching him how to cook and he taught you how to play chess. You paled in comparison to his skills, but he enjoyed playing with you.

When you returned to the police station, Spencer started giving statistics about the unsub. You watched as he scrunched his nose when he got to a part he found particularly interesting. You were practically drooling when he started talking with his hands. You couldn’t help thinking of what they would feel like against your skin.

You squeeze your thighs together trying to suppress the throb in your panties. Most everyone hated when he went off on a tangent, spilling every detail he knew about something, but not you. You never interrupted him once he started. You thought it was incredibly sexy how much endless information was stored in that brilliant mind under his messy curls.

After four long days, the case was finally solved. Morgan had captured the unsub when he went back to visit the crime scene. The whole team and the local police went out to the closest dive bar to celebrate. You were three shots in when Officer Brewer asked you to dance.

You decided it wouldn’t hurt, and you felt a little bad for shamelessly flirting with him all week. To your surprise, he was a great dancer. He spun and dipped you like a professional. When the song ended, you both walked over to the large booth both of your coworkers had settled in. Brewer placed his hands on your hips pulling you tightly against his body. He pointed at Spencer. “That’s how you woo a lady, Einstein. I’ve seen how you look at her. Just know she’s in good hands. She will be sleeping with a real man. She’ll be screaming my name tonight.”

You quickly remove his hands from your body. One glance at Spencer was enough for you to know that the jab had hurt him. Luckily, Brewer wouldn’t be able to tell. But you could read Spencer like a book. You grabbed the nearest drink off the table, splashing it in his face.

“You pompous ass! I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on Earth. For your information, Spencer is more of a man than you’ll ever be. He’s the perfect lover. He knows the female anatomy like you know your ABC’s. He can spell out Webster’s Dictionary in its entirety with his tongue when he goes down on me. He’s incredible.”

Spencer looks at you in disbelief. His brown eyes widen as he takes in what just happened. You take his hand in yours. “I’m ready to go.” He stands and walks out with you. You go back to the hotel spending the rest of the night watching rom coms on TV.

When you were back home, everyone was talking about what you said at the bar. Most importantly, you had to explain to Hotch that you and Spencer were not involved. He didn’t want to deal with all of the paperwork or the drama if it didn’t work out.

Penelope, Emily, and JJ cornered you by the coffee wanting every dirty detail of your hookup with Spencer. They were understanding when you explained you made it all up to defend him. Rossi seemed amused by the gossip. When you tried to set the record straight, he said “What you kids do behind closed doors is your business.”

Morgan was a different story entirely. He greeted Spencer with a high five. “My man! You could have told me. You and Y/N, huh? I’ve seen you two all cuddled up after cases. I should’ve guessed.” Despite Spencer denying anything between you, Derek couldn’t be convinced otherwise.

A few weeks passed, the gossip had been long forgotten with all the cases you had been working on. Your first free weekend, Rossi invited everyone to his house for a cooking lesson. The wine was flowing, even Spencer had a few glasses.

He was chatting with Derek about some girl he met through his Dr Who fan club. Spencer described her as his dream girl, but he was nervous to ask her out. Derek slapped him playfully on the back. “At least you’re not a virgin anymore, Pretty Boy. You should have plenty of confidence with the ladies now.”

Spencer’s face fell. He stormed out of the house. You followed after him, concerned for your friend. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You catch up to him, sitting on the step beside him. “I’m just tired of all the comments on my personal life. Just because I don’t have a different girl in my bed every night doesn’t mean I’m a virgin. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, anything.” You reply laying your head on his shoulder. “Why did you say all that stuff at the bar?” He places his head on top of yours. His mop of messy brown hair flowing down your cheek. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I was just trying to stand up for you. I wasn’t going to let anyone talk to you like that.”

“I know that. I meant… Never mind.” He lifts his head and scoots over, distancing himself from you. “What is it? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He sighs looking everywhere but at you. “Why did you say I was a perfect lover and that thing about the dictionary?”

“It just kinda came out. I guess I said it because that’s what I always imagined it would be like.” Finally he looks at you. “You’ve imagined doing that with me?” His voice raises several octaves when he asks. You nod your head in response. You could tell the conversation was taking an awkward turn so you change the subject.

“So tell me about this dream girl. You’ve been keeping secrets!” He smiles sheepishly. “Her name’s Chloe. She’s brilliant. We like a lot of the same things. She speaks three languages. I want to ask her out on a date, but all that stuff Morgan said is messing with my head. What if I’m not enough for her? I’ve only been with one woman. I’m not exactly skilled in that department.”

He swallows hard, self doubt sketched all over his soft features. “I would like to have more experience before I take her out. So I can be more confident.” “I have a crazy idea. You can say no if you want. But what if we slept together? You want more experience and I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. It would be great practice for you since we are comfortable with each other. I would tell you what you need to improve on. And it would be a good stress reliever for me. What do you think?”

Spencer studies your face carefully looking for any signs of this being a cruel joke. When he is certain you meant it, he answers. “What about our friendship? I don’t want to mess this up.” He gestures between you.

“Of course we will still be friends. It’s not like we are going to fall in love. Think of it as a business transaction. We won’t let emotions get in the way. It will be strictly business.”

“No feelings?” He asks reaching his outstretched pinky towards you. “No feelings.” You confirm hooking your pinky with his.

Part Two

Tags (if you want to be added let me know)

@cindylynn @potter-puff007 @multifandom-worlds @mochie85

[nhlclover]

' 𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄 ' | 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃

summary: being pwhl montreal's newest star, you get paired up with cole caufield to do a joint interview.

warnings: pwhl!reader, smau (this is my first time doing an smau so please only constructive criticism), quite a few uses of y/n, using a photo of mariah koepple but not as a faceclaim, cringy flirty banter

word count: 1.57k

The bright lights of the Bell Centre cast a vibrant glow over the ice, the freshly zambonied sheet pristine and inviting, free of skate marks. Stepping onto the ice felt like stepping into the next chapter of your life, a dream realized.

It’s been about 2 months since you were drafted into the PWHL by PWHL Montreal, fulfilling a lifelong dream of yours. The past couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions, from the excitement of draft day to jumping straight into the intense training sessions. Scattered in between, you’ve been able to get to know your teammates who have helped you settle into the new city by showing you around.

Though the PWHL season was still a while away, the NHL season was fast approaching, and you found yourself at the Bell Centre for media day with the Montreal Canadiens. You were slated for a joint interview with one of the Canadiens players, followed by a shooting competition.

Gliding around one end of the ice, you took a few shots on the net with the pucks that were scattered around. The camera crew was setting up their equipment at the other end, preparing for the interview.

From the direction of the bench, you heard the distinctive sound of skates cutting into the ice. Turning around, you saw Cole Caufield skating towards you, his Canadiens home jersey contrasting sharply with the ice beneath him. A bright smile lit up his face as he approached.

“Hey, rookie,” Cole greeted with a playful grin.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” you introduce yourself.

“I know who you are,” Cole said. “They talk more about you than they did about me when I got here.”

You couldn’t help but feel a blush appear on your cheeks at his words. You were a pretty highly touted prospect going into the draft, and when Montreal drafted you, the hockey-crazed city hyped you up even more. You were the talk of Montreal hockey, surpassing even the Canadiens' new rookies.

“Oh, come on, you’re just saying that,” you replied, trying to downplay your embarrassment.

“Not at all,” Cole said. “I’m pretty sure you’ve stolen my thunder.”

You chuckled, feeling a mix of pride and shyness. “Well, I guess it’s not every day a new star comes to town,” you replied, trying to match his playful tone.

Cole laughed, the sound echoing in the nearly empty arena. “True, true. But don’t worry, I’ll let you borrow it for a bit. Just don’t get too comfortable,” he teased, winking at you.

His wink caught you off guard, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You felt your heart skip a beat and hoped the blush that had already crept onto your cheeks didn’t deepen too much. There was something undeniably charming about Cole’s playful confidence, and you found yourself momentarily at a loss for words.

A couple seconds later, the crew calls the two of you over to begin the interview. You and Cole took your spots on either side of the interviewer on the Montreal Canadiens bench. You watched as a producer gave the interviewer cues to start the interview.

“Hey everyone, I am here with Cole Caufield, forward for the Montreal Canadiens, and PWHL Montreal’s first round pick, y/n l/n.” the interviewer says. “Welcome y/n and Cole, it’s great to have you both here today.”

"Thanks for having us," you said, giving a nod to the camera.

“Yeah, this is awesome,” Cole added.

The interviewer turned to you first. “Y/n, you're about to start your first season with Montreal's PWHL team. What are you most looking forward to?”

You couldn’t hide your excitement as your face lit up. “Honestly, I'm just excited to get out on the ice and play with such an incredible group of girls. We've got a lot of talent, and I think we're gonna have something special this season. Plus, the energy from the fans here in Montreal is just amazing.”

He nodded appreciatively and then looked at Cole. “And Cole, as someone who's been playing in Montreal for a while, do you have any advice for y/n?”

Cole thought for a second before speaking. “Just soak it all in. The city's passionate about hockey, and it can be intense, but it's also one of the best places to play. Stay focused, enjoy the ride, and don't be afraid to lean on your teammates. The vets were the best in my first couple of seasons, they always had great advice if I needed any.”

“That’s some wise advice.” the interviewer says, drawing laughs from the both of you. “Y/n, what do you think will be your biggest challenge this season?”

“I think adjusting to the pace and physicality of the professional level will be a big step up from college hockey. But I’ve been training hard this offseason, and I’m ready to face those challenges head-on. Having a supportive team and coaching staff definitely helps.”

The interviewer nods and turns to Cole. “Cole, what's one thing about playing in Montreal that you think will surprise y/n?”

Cole grins. “The fans. They’re not just passionate, they’re everywhere. You’ll get recognized on the streets, at restaurants, pretty much anywhere you go. It’s a bit overwhelming at first, but it’s also pretty amazing to have that kind of support.”

“Well, it sounds like an exciting season ahead for both of you.” he says, looking back at the camera. “Well, now we’re going to get to the exciting bit of the interview and get ready to watch Cole and y/n go head to head in a little shooting competition.”

The three of you get up from the bench, heading over to the net set up in front of cameras.

“Now’s the time to prove that you’re worth all the hype,” Cole said teasingly as he skated by you.

You rolled your eyes at Cole's comment, but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, I'm not worried," you shot back. "Just try to keep up, okay?"

Cole laughed, the sound light and genuine, the both of you skating between the circles. The crew had set up a series of targets in the net, and as the two of you lined up, the interviewer explained the rules. "Alright, y/n and Cole, there are five targets in the net, whoever hits all five in the shortest amount of time wins. Have you guys placed any wagers on this?"

You and Cole both laugh, you shaking your head.

“How about we make a little bet? Loser buys the winner dinner.” Cole suggested.

“Dinner, huh?” you mused. “I hope you’re ready to spend big because I’m gonna win.”

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Cole said, a small smirk tugging on his lips. His confident nature made your heart skip a beat.

“Alright, Mr. Confident, let’s see what you’ve got,” you challenged.

“Okay, okay, we’ve got a little competition going now.” the interviewer commented.

“Just so you know,” Cole says, “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

“Good,” you replied, feeling a thrill of anticipation. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Alright, Cole, you'll go first. I’ll serve you the pucks and you’ve just gotta shoot them.” the interviewer explains. “Y/n count us down when we’re ready.”

The interviewer heads to the right of the net where a pile of pucks sit, while Cole sets up in between the dots. “Alright, ready?” you ask. “Three… two… one… go!”

On your call, Cole starts shooting, aiming for the targets in the corners and center of the net. He fires pucks off like bullets, shooting them impressively into the net. He hits three of the targets consecutively, but it takes him a couple extra shots to get all five targets.

19.47 ends up being his time — and the time for you to beat if you want Cole to treat you to dinner. “Nice shots, old man.” you tease.

“Old man? I’m only 2 years older than you, watch it.” Cole retorts.

You giggle and skate to where Cole was, waiting for the crew to replace the targets in the net. Once everything's set, Cole counts you down. You fire pucks into the net, albeit not as hard as Cole’s. However, you were able to pick your spots, being able to get all five targets in 17.33.

When you hear your time, you do an over the top celebration, skating around Cole and showing off. Cole groaned dramatically, but a genuine smile couldn’t help but tug on his lips.

“Looks like you owe me dinner,” you said triumphantly.

The interviewer thanks you both for joining them, you and Cole skating off towards the dressing room together. You finally speak once the two of you are alone in the dressing room.

“You don’t actually have to take me out to dinner,” you tell him.

Cole turns to face you as he pulls off his jersey. “I want to.” he says earnestly. “I mean… I’d like to take you out for dinner. As long as you’re down.”

You smile at his sudden shy demeanor, a swift change from his confident attitude on the ice. “Are you asking me on a date, Cole?”

Cole’s cheeks flushed pink as he scratched the back of his neck. “Would that be okay if I did?”

You grinned. “It’d be great.”

"Great," Cole said, his grin matching yours. "It's a date."

———

canadiens.pwhl Cole Caufield and Y/N L/N getting friendly in their newest interview for Sportsnet 👀 Do we have another Habs bachelor off the market?

( loading comments )

user1 montreals newest it couple i'm calling it

user2 they are so cute together

user3 power couple‼️

user4 the greatest hockey player in montreal and cole caufield

user5 LMAOOOO

user6 look at his smile🥹🥹

user7 he looks so happy with her

user8 god could they be more obvious??

user9 ??

user8 i mean they're clearly dating they didn't even try and hide it lol

user10 aw now cole doesn't have to third wheel nick and caitlin

user11 my literal parents

user12 omg same hey twin

[bbjobo]

Hello hi it’s me, your resident entertainment PR enthusiast. I simply need to talk about the sequel announcement. This is all speculation, but I work in entertainment-adjacent communications and once convinced a household name celebrity to stay at my event to do select press interviews when his wife was going to go into labor at literally any minute, so I like to think I've got a pretty good sense of all of this.

So buckle in, because I'm about how actually fantastic this rollout was, because I’d wager they’ve been planning this since the premiere. 

RWRB came out truly smack-dab in the middle of the actors' strike. We all know just how much press we must have missed out on, because the strike started before promo would have kicked off in earnest. And when it was finally over in November, the actors are potentially out of contract for promotion, and that’s not even taking into consideration that the holidays are coming up and the six weeks from American Thanksgiving to New Year’s is truly a black hole of press. So this little movie has to rely almost entirely on fan reaction and word of mouth to hit because they’re so limited in what they can do for promo. And it IS a hit! Records are broken! Comments for an extended version (which, ok Matthew we get it, does not exist) and a sequel start almost immediately.

The marketing team makes the most of what they’ve got: they’re keeping up the official character accounts, they’re dropping deleted scenes and BTS. We get cornettos! The fireside scene! Bloopers! Notably absent? Brownstone Thanksgiving. We’ve seen BTS photos of it, we know it exists. Thanksgiving 2023 would have been a great time to drop it, but they don’t. This is the approximate point at which my own personal sequel speculation began. After the strike ends, the posting pace slows considerably but it’s still consistent. It’s just enough to keep it in your mind but not enough to be like “why are you still posting this much about it?” And this continues into 2024.

On the contracting side, conversations were likely actively happening at this point. I wouldn’t be surprised if negotiations picked up literally as soon as the strike ended. The producers would have had that time to get Matthew and Casey back on board and be fully prepped and ready to move on to contracting actors the minute they could. It’d be a shot in the dark to try to guess when these were finalized, but at some point between November 9 and May 9, yeah, they’re in.

But whew, Nicholas is booked and BUSY. Mary & George drops internationally March 5, The Idea of You closes SXSW on March 17, two weeks later M&G starts airing in the US and Canada, and a month after that, TIOY is available for streaming (and limited theatrical release, which is another whole post), and in between all those premieres, he’s everywhere. He’s criss-crossing the country (and tbh the Atlantic Ocean) for all of these appearances, truly going non-stop. The pacing of the premieres makes it nearly impossible to squeeze in another project announcement, and if they had, it would have been a bigger part of every interview he did after, which is something his own team would be working to balance. Plus between TIOY and RWRB, Prime would have been pitching stories against themselves. Better to let him finish out his other promotional appearances and then switch over.

At the same time, we’ve got awards and red carpet season starting. At nearly every red carpet appearance not for their own projects, both Taylor and Nick are asked about a sequel. If an interviewer is given enough time, they ask about a sequel. Sure, fans comment about a sequel on every vaguely rwrb social post from an official account, but the press asking about a sequel felt like a lot to me. Everyone always gave the same vague answer, that they’d be up for it if the story is right, that they don’t know but would be happy to. (Except one time, Nick does slip up and give an answer that feels a little more definitive here where he says “conversations are being had” all the way back in late February/early March). Press are asking the question so consistently that it felt like if it wasn’t happening, PR teams would have put the sequel on the do not ask list.

Then Prime starts actually ramping up on a FYC campaign for the movie. I'm gonna be honest, I was so surprised. It's a rom com, the odds of a rom com getting any sort of awards recognition is so slim, but I thought, "ok, sure, use FYC as a way to get the promo boost they need for an announcement of whatever's coming next." And then I looked up and Variety has picked it as the winner in the best television movie category, which is blowing my mind. The other categories they're submitting in are stacked and I think a nomination beyond television movie will be a long shot, but again, it's big for it to even be considered. And if they're being talked about, that means Prime's gotta put out a great showing for their FYC campaign.

Which brings us to this week. We start off on Monday with Nick at the Met Gala referring to Uma as his mother-in-law. Incredible. Love it. Wednesday and Thursday are a one-two punch of a FYC event and fan event, and the gang’s all here. At the FYC, we get the industry side of things: new portraits and interviews with Deadline, process talk, etc. Because this little rom com is actually doing pretty well and beating the odds? Knowing what we know now, the PR teams spent this week pre-briefing the press on the sequel announcement. Notable (at least to my knowledge) the sequel question doesn't get asked at the FYC event. Because the press already knows it's coming.

Now, on to yesterday. They do a fan screening and Q&A, and they literally roll out the red carpet. Nine months after the premiere and exactly six months after the strike ended, they get the gang back together with fans of the movie, who they relied on so heavily during the strike to help make the movie a success. The tagline on the screen’s giant promo image has been updated to specifically thank fans for “making history with us.” The moderator for the Q&A is the same person who interviewed Taylor and Nick at the beginning of FYC campaign season, their first joint interview since GQ (right? pretty sure. it's all a blur tbh). And at the end of the Q&A, minutes before 12 AM ET, when the embargo on the press release would have lifted, they make the announcement not to press, but to the fans. The fans who loved the book, who watched it over and over, who spread the word about the movie to help make it one of Prime’s top three rom coms OF ALL TIME.

It’s just… an absolute masterclass in how to execute a major announcement that embraces the fans in a time where fandom and interaction between creators and fans can be an absolute minefield. Prime saw the opportunity to lean into the fannishness of it all and they took it and it was a slam dunk.

So where do we go from here? IDK but here’s some unconnected thoughts in list form like Alex would want.

The book’s 5th anniversary is next Wednesday, the 14th.

Casey’s been posting about working on [redacted] for months at this point, which is almost certainly the screenplay

Nick mentioned needing to be back in the UK for filming soon

They would probably like to release this in US election off-cycle years, so that means 2025 or 2027 (and 2027 is too far away). 2026 would be less bad since it’s a midterm election, but still.

Filming could reasonably start sooner rather than later, and even without an unfinished script

I guess we’re back on content watch for blond hair and BTS pictures

[solar4seekstron]

Wife

TFA!Soft!Controlling!Blurr x Cybertronian!Femme!Reader Oneshot:

(I’ll do a more wholesome and tooth rotting fluff for our blue speedy boy! Ugh I love him! Why is every mech in this series so fine?!)

Content: 18+

Introduction Movie/Series Oneshot Masterlist

TW/Tags: bit of a dark content, Ultra Magnus basically adopts you, Jazz is your older bro, manipulation, baby trapped, implied dubcon, sort of sad ending.

You were once an archivist. You worked alongside a few bots and femmes. Long before joining the elite guard. You were just a good friend of Ultra Magnus. Your sire was his best friend before dying during the wars against Megatron years ago. In a way he was like an uncle to you.

He has tried many times to ask you to join him. Go to the academy and be a part of his team.

You know he’s doing this to protect you. It was your sires dying wish when the two were in battle together. One day one of his guards Jazz asked you if you’d like to go to a race with him. He thought, maybe you can join him.

Thinking you can leave that dusty and dark library for once. So you agreed.

Jazz was like a brother to you. At time protective when other guys try to flirt with you especially in front of Ultra magnus.

During the race you sat with some energon popcorn as Jazz cheered. Apparently he knew of the racers….. Blurr.

He was good pals with him back in school and although the two separated. They do catch up every now and then..Fun how that’s so how for most people when their own ego gets in the way.

So during the race as you ate your energon you watched as Blurr was on the screen. You’ll end it he’s pretty cute. Talks pretty fast. Adds a lot to his character.

Blurr is soon to claim victory as he cheers on his crowed. Waving to his fans as confetti and music plays. Everyone cheered along with Jazz. As they continued Jazz would then get up and gently grab your cervo. Taking you with him.

You both made your way to where the racers went. Jazz telling you to stay close by.

As you did. A few readers noticed you and even flirting with you. Both femmes, bots, and GN Cybertronians who were in the race.

You’d pay them much mind. It’s one of the reasons why you stayed where you were.

Eventually Jazz pulled you closer and put his arm around your shoulder. It resting as he leaned a bit on your as he smiled at his friend. “Hey Blurr! I want ya to meet Y/N! She’s like my lil sis! So be nice.”

You’d gently elbow his on his side as you chuckled. A smile on both your dermas as you glanced at him. Blurr only watched you for a moment as you and Jazz looked at each other. Things seemed to stop for a moment as he stared at you. Before it returns to not gain suspicion with the other bots around him.

He’d make conversation with you. Jazz staying there with his arm around you. Blurr tried really hard to not smack the shit out of Jazz the whole time.

You giggled a few times at Blurrs jokes and his funny personality as Jazz did the same. Eventually Jazz is called for something and has to step back. “You’ll be alright if I step out?” You’d nod as Jazz then fist bumps Blurr before leaving. Blurr glances at you then smiled.

”Would you like to go out?!” You stared at him as he looked like he was panicking.

The others bots and femmes not paying much attention since the cheering died off after a few hours. You’d just looked at him and just smiled. You’re not completely sure. But you suppose it shouldn’t hurt.

He was fast to grab your cervo and bring you to a corner close to the exits. No one noticing ou as his cervos gently held your arms. You both out of shot.

He would then whisper into your audio sensors. A few of his words making let out of a soft sigh. You’d have a small smile on your dermas as your cervos rests on his shoulders. Him pulling your frame against his as he wraps his x arms around your waist. He’d then speak of a date and time before kissing the side of your neck.

Before you knew it he was gone. Leaving you by the exit and soon Jazz shows up. Blurr telling him you here.

You both would then walk back to Ultra Magnus. You have been meaning to pay him a visit.

———————————————————————————

After a few days it was your and Blurrs date. The date went well. You were a bit nervous since the restaurant was very fancy. You only just lightly polished your armor before making your way there.

The date went…well. Blurr was polite but. Mostly flirtatious. You gave him another shot with a few others dates. One night you thought it wouldn’t hurt to be in his arms, as least for one night. And so…you laid with him…and then you did again.. and again. And again. You always told yourself you were swooned with him. The way he would compliment you and hold you close after each date.

But you would always have this strange and off feeling in this gut as he’d always give you rough kisses and the glances and looks he’d make when others got too close to you or even spoke to you at times.

One night, after another ‘lovely’ date. You were on your back. Blurrs load leaking from your valve after going a few rounds. He was next to you.

His arm supporting himself up as the other was around your waist. You both having a small make out session as both of you let out small moans and sighs. Your cervo moved to press against his chest as you wanted to speak.

You can tell he was a bit annoyed but compliment.

You’d then tell him the important news. “I’m going to the Guards academy. I wish to join Ultra Magnus team.” You said it point blank as Blurr just stared at you.

His smile then returns as he chuckled. “Then I guess I’m joining in the Elites the…”

He’d say with you a grin. Why did that make you nervous…He’d return to place a kiss on your dermas. Your cervos moving to hold the side of his helm as you returned the kiss. But…you held back from making your cervos push him away from you. You’re not really sure why you were going to.

You’d both stay there for a while…until he decided he wished to go another round.

Years went by as you both attended the academy. You still stayed on your birth control. To avoid getting sparked with a sparkling from Blurr. Once you all graduated. Manus was fast to having you join his team. Magnus would accept Blurr but say his place is on the planet unless he calls for him.

Blurr was not too happy about the order.

After some time when finding Optimus and his team. Blurr was aloud to join you and the team to come to earth. Eventually after everything. You and Blurr decided to go on a small vacation. You have been thinking for a good while about your relationship with him.

It’s just…not healthy. So one day as you both were having dinner. You spoke.

”Blurr I’ve been thinking.I It’s just not working out with us. I can’t go anywhere besides work and you always wish to be with me and yet I cant do anything when we go out. And I-“

“Y/N…” You looked at him. He almost seemed sad as he looked at you. A small frown on his dermas as he looked at you. He never looked at you like this before.

”Please…I’ll do better…just…give me a chance! Please! I’ll do better promise!”

His optics pleading for a chance ou’ve always been sympathetic and it wouldn be truly cruel to deny him one….would it? And so you sighed and slowly nod. A smile soon appearing his dermas.

Later that night the two of you watch a movie together. And before you both knew it you both laid together. You just…couldn’t hold yourself back from him. You loved his touch. His kiss. How gentle he can be with you. How he would whisper sweet nothing in your audio sensors as he made you feel special.

But…you forgot your birth control….

Before you knew it.You were with sparkling. You found out when you returned to the ship with Jazz and Ultra Magnus. You can tell Ultra Magnus aand Jazz we’re trying to hold in their excitement since they saw their self as your family.

Ultra Magnus seeing himself as a soon to be grandpa and Jazz as a soon to be uncle. But the whole time…You forced a smile.

After months went by, Ultra Magnus gave the order that you go on leave for some time until you’re better after the birth of your sparkling.

You had a small boy. He was so small but so healthy. Having so much life im his optics and even in his strength as he always made it a point to grab at your digits.

Blurr was over the moon when he held his little sparkling. Gently keeping him resting on his chest as he smiled down at the little sparkling..You could feel it through the spark bond….

Ultra Magnus looked like a proud grandfather when holding the young sparkling.

The little one looking like a mix of your and Blurrs armor. His color palette being similar to yours. But is just as bright as his. Having Blue optics and a large grin whoever he smiles.

Before you knew it…You had two more little sparklings running around. Jazz always visiting when you weren’t at work as the academy’s teacher.

But….Blurr never changes…If not became more controlling. He wanted more sparklings. But you’d always dodge his question or his advances…

Even now..you’re unsure on how much longer you can keep this up. All you ow is… You must keep your little ones safe…No Matter What.

I hope you guys could somewhat enjoy this! I swear I’ll make a more wholesome one for our sweet blue boy. As always a repost is appreciated and please have a good rest of your day!!!!

[deans-queen]

Change of Heart 💚

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

Pairing: Dean x Y/N (Female Reader)

Summary: Dean and Y/N are hunters who do not get along. Fed up with their constant bickering, Sam forces them to stay in the same motel room for the night, to learn getting along with each other.

Warnings: language, smut, enemies to lovers, angst. (Let me know if I miss any)

Pre-AN: This fills the "Whats your problem with me?" square for @jacklesversebingo (This is also an enemies to lovers fic.)

Reader's POV

Sam, Dean, and I have been hunting together for a couple of months now. I only joined because I’ve been friends with Sam since college. Sam and I get along great; however, it’s his older brother, Dean, I can’t stand. He’s hot-headed, arrogant, stubborn, a know-it-all, and thinks he’s God’s gift to women… which, I can’t say I disagree with. Despite hating him so damn much, I’m also completely in love with him. But come on… how could I not be? He’s tall, handsome as hell, and he’s so bad but he does it so well. He has the most beautiful green eyes I’ve ever seen. God, how can one person be so infuriating and infatuating at the same damn time?? I can’t show my true feelings for him because, for whatever reason, he hates me. He’s been treating me like crap since the first day we met, and I don’t know why. I don’t know what I said or did to make him hate me so much, and it’s so goddamn frustrating.

After another  grueling and exhausting hunt, we decided to stay at a motel for the night. Dean and I had been arguing, as usual, about something completely trivial. Sam rubbed his head as we got out of the Impala, clearly fed up with our constant bickering.

“Dean, you are so damn hard headed!” I shouted, slamming the car door behind me.

“I’m hard headed?” he exclaimed, his voice laced with disbelief. “You’re the one who has to be so damn annoying.” He got out of the car, slamming the door.

“Oh please, I’m annoying?” I rolled my eyes at him. “I could go on and on about how you’re just such a walk in the park,” I added with heavy sarcasm. He’s such a big baby, always complaining about every little thing.

Before Dean could make another smart-ass comment, Sam cut in, shouting, “That is enough!”

We both look at Sam and stay silent. 

“Honestly, I’m done with you two,” Sam said, his voice tight with frustration. “All this constant bickering and fighting—it’s out of control. Every damn day.”

He glanced between Dean and me, rubbing a hand over his forehead as if trying to rub away a headache we’d caused. It was pretty clear that he’d reached his limit with us, and honestly, I couldn’t blame him.

“But he—” I started to protest.

“Ah-ah, Y/N. I don’t wanna hear it.”

Dean just stood there, smirking like he found the whole situation hilarious, which only seemed to make Sam angrier.

“Dude, cut it out,” Sam snapped, shooting Dean a glare. “You’re not helping.”

Dean glared right back. “Sam, don’t you—”

“I’m serious, Dean. Knock. It. The. Hell. Off.” He said, sternly. 

That shut him up real quick.

Sam sighed, his expression softening just a bit. “Now, listen,” he continued, scolding us like a pair of unruly kids. “We’re a team—a family. If we want this to work, we need to figure out how to get along.”

Dean and I exchanged a glance, both of us finally quiet. Deep down, we knew Sam was right. All this constant fighting wasn’t doing anyone any favors, especially with the pressure of this case hanging over us.

Sam sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m gonna go get us our rooms. Think you two can manage to stay here and not tear each other apart while I’m gone?”

Dean rolled his eyes, but a hint of a smirk played on his lips. “We’ll try to behave…no promises, though.”

I gave Sam a reassuring nod. “We’ll be fine. Promise.”

He shot us a warning look, as if daring us to test his patience one more time, then headed toward the front desk.

We stayed silent, the tension still lingering but softened in the quiet. I leaned back against the hood of the Impala, my arms crossed as I stared up at the fading evening sky. Dean stood by the driver’s side door, hands shoved into his pockets, his eyes fixed somewhere in the distance.

Neither of us said a word, but there was an unspoken truce between us, a silent agreement to keep things calm—at least for now. The only sounds were the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the occasional crunch of gravel under Sam’s boots as he made his way back to us.

Sam approached us, two room keys dangling from his fingers, his expression a mix of caution and annoyance.

“Alright, here’s the deal,” he began. “You’re not gonna like this, but the place is fully booked. I could only get two rooms.” His gaze shifted between Dean and me, almost apologetic. “Which means… you two are gonna have to share.”

I glanced at Dean, who raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk threatening to break through. “Great,” he drawled, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Just what I always wanted.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Yeah, well, let’s just get through this without another argument.”

Sam sighed, handing us the key. “Please, just try not to kill each other before morning.” He walked off toward his own room, leaving Dean and me to figure out how we were going to survive the night under the same roof.

Dean snatched the key from Sam’s hand, shooting him a hard look. Without another word, he turned and started walking toward the rooms. As soon as he was out of earshot, I grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him aside.

“Sam, this is never gonna work!” I whispered urgently, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Dean wasn’t listening. “He hates me…”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He doesn’t hate you, Y/N. He’s just… Dean. You know how he is. He acts tough, but he doesn’t mean half of what he says.”

I shook my head, frustration bubbling up. “No, Sam. He really hates me. Every time I say or do anything, he has some smart-ass comment or looks at me like I’m the most annoying person on the planet.”

Sam placed a hand on my shoulder, his tone softening. “Look, I know it feels that way, but trust me, he doesn’t hate you. If anything…” He trailed off, a knowing look in his eyes.

“What?” I pressed.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “Just… try to make it through the night without killing each other. Who knows? Maybe you’ll surprise yourself.”

I frowned, unconvinced, but nodded reluctantly. “Fine. But if he starts something, it’s on him.”

Sam chuckled and patted my shoulder before heading to his room. “Good luck.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves and gather my thoughts. With Sam’s words still rattling in my mind, I turned and headed toward Dean, who was unlocking the door to our room.

As I approached, I stepped forward, intending to walk in first, but Dean, being Dean, cut me off and stepped inside ahead of me without a word. Typical.

He crossed the room and immediately claimed the bed closest to the door, dropping his bag onto the floor beside it with a sense of finality. I made my way to the other bed, setting my bag down a little more gently, though my movements were tense. The air between us felt heavy, loaded with unspoken irritation.

I sat on the edge of my bed, glancing briefly at him as he rifled through his duffel. For a moment, I considered saying something—anything—to break the silence. But then again, maybe silence wasn’t the worst thing right now.

Silently, I placed my duffle bag on the second bed, feeling Dean’s gaze boring into me without even needing to look. That intense, unmistakable glare. I ignored it, knowing exactly why he was pissed—Sam’s brilliant idea of forcing us to share a room, hoping it might miraculously make us get along. As if that was going to happen.

With a sigh, I sat on the edge of the bed before flopping back, covering my face with my hands. The tension in the room was suffocating, thick enough to choke on, and I didn’t know how much more of it I could handle.

Was all of this stress—this endless back and forth with Dean—really worth it? The way he drove me crazy with his sharp comments and that cocky smirk? Was it worth the fact that, deep down, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling something for him? A crush that, no matter how much I tried, wouldn’t go away.

I let out another sigh, trying to shove the thought from my mind. It didn’t matter how I felt about him. Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of guy to care about things like that—or someone like me.

Dean’s sharp eyes followed me as I sat down, his glare practically burning into me. When I leaned back and covered my face with my hands, he let out an annoyed scoff, the sound cutting through the thick silence in the room. Without a word, he tossed his bag down and flopped onto his own bed, the frame creaking slightly under his weight.

The tension hung in the air like a storm cloud, heavy and oppressive. He shifted onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he kept his gaze locked on me.

After a moment, he broke the silence, his voice low but edged with impatience. “So… you planning to sit there hiding under your hands all night, or are you gonna say something?”

I sat up slowly, letting my hands drop into my lap, my heart pounding as I finally locked eyes with him. His gaze was sharp, challenging, but I didn’t back down. My voice wavered at first, but the frustration bubbling inside me gave it an edge.

“What do you want from me, Dean?” I asked, my tone trembling but steady enough to hold its ground. “Because it feels like no matter what I do, no matter what I say, it’s never good enough for you. I’m tired of walking on eggshells. So, just tell me—what the hell do you want? Seriously, what’s your problem with me??”

The silence between us was deafening, the words hanging heavy in the air like thunderclouds on the verge of breaking. My chest tightened, the weight of all the unsaid things between us pressing down hard, making it hard to breathe.

Dean’s jaw clenched, and for a second, I thought he might snap back, throw one of his usual sarcastic jabs my way. But instead, he just stared at me, his expression shifting slightly, as though he was wrestling with something he didn’t want to say out loud. The storm wasn’t just between us anymore—it was inside him too.

Dean shifted, propping himself up on his elbow, his sharp eyes locking onto mine. The intensity in his gaze made my heart skip, though I refused to look away. For a moment, he just stared, his expression unreadable, before letting out a scoff that was equal parts exasperation and something else.

“You wanna know what I want?” he asked, his voice rough, almost biting. “I want you to stop being such a damn pain in the ass. You never listen, you’ve always gotta have the last word, and you’re stubborn as hell. And—” he paused, his jaw tightening, “—you’re… goddamn annoying.”

His words stung, but it wasn’t just the frustration in his voice that caught me off guard. There was something else underneath it, buried just deep enough that it wasn’t easy to place. Something raw, something unspoken that made my breath hitch despite myself.

I glared at him, my chest tightening as his words hit me like a slap. My heart pounded in my ears, but I wasn’t about to let him have the last word—not this time.

“Oh, and like you’re such a walk in the park, Dean?” I snapped, my voice sharp as I sat up straighter, meeting his gaze head-on. “You’re bossy, short-tempered, and half the time, you don’t even bother to explain what the hell is going on! So maybe—just maybe—I wouldn’t be such a ‘pain in the ass’ if you weren’t so damn impossible to deal with!”

The words spilled out before I could stop them, but I didn’t care. My chest heaved with anger, and the silence that followed was deafening, charged with something I couldn’t quite define.

Dean’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he leaned forward slightly. “You think I’m impossible to deal with?” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “Newsflash, sweetheart—I’m not the one who flies off the handle every five seconds.”

His words were laced with frustration, but his tone had shifted. The air between us felt electric, like a storm about to break. Beneath the anger, there was something else—a spark, a tension that neither of us could ignore. My heart raced, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the argument or the way Dean’s gaze seemed to burn straight through me.

“Because you never listen to anything I have to say, Dean!” I shot back, stepping toward him, my anger flaring to match his. “It’s like you don’t care—like nothing I say ever matters to you!”

My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my voice shaking as frustration bubbled over. “And you know what? I’m only here because Sam is my friend, and he asked me to help with this case. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t even be here, putting up with your crap. I don’t deserve to be treated like this, Dean!”

I glared up at him, my chest heaving as the words poured out, sharp and cutting. We stood toe-to-toe, the space between us charged with an almost unbearable tension. His eyes flashed, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t move back, didn’t even flinch.

Dean clenched his jaw so tightly I could see the muscle in his cheek twitch, his fists balled at his sides. His glare was sharp enough to cut, and it bore down on me with the full force of his frustration.

“Oh, trust me,” he said, his voice low and venomous, “I don’t want you here. I’ve had to deal with your attitude for weeks, and I’m done. I never wanted you on this case—you’re a liability. But Sam, as usual, had to have his way, and I didn’t have a choice.”

He took a step closer, his boots heavy on the floor, until he was right in front of me, his chest nearly brushing mine. His eyes blazed with fury, but underneath it, there was something else. Something darker, something dangerous.

The air between us crackled, and I felt my breath hitch as his presence loomed over me. My heart raced, a mix of anger, defiance, and something I wasn’t ready to name. I clenched my fists at my sides, refusing to back down even as his intensity pressed against me like a storm about to break.

“Wow, Dean. You might as well just stick a knife in my heart—it’d hurt less,” I said, my voice trembling under the weight of sadness.

I could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, my throat tightening as I fought to keep them at bay. The anger that had been fueling me moments ago was gone, replaced by a hollow ache that I couldn’t hide.

Dean froze, your words landing like a punch to his gut. He’d said it to get a rise out of you, to make his point—but hearing the raw pain in your voice and seeing the tears welling in your eyes? That was something he hadn’t expected, something he didn’t know how to deal with.

His expression softened, the usual hard edge in his eyes fading as he took a small step back. He stood there for a moment, staring down at you, his lips parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

“Wait… Y/N, I didn’t mean it,” he said quietly, his voice softer than you’d heard in a long time. He looked away, avoiding your gaze, as if meeting your eyes would make the guilt he was feeling all the more real.

The room was quiet except for the sound of your own shaky breaths, the storm between you shifting into something calmer but no less charged.

“You know what… just forget it, okay?” I said, forcing a nervous laugh that did little to mask the crack in my voice. I kept my eyes fixed on my duffle bag, my hands shaking as I grabbed it. I couldn’t look at him—not now.

“You’re right. I don’t belong here,” I added, my voice quieter this time, as if admitting it out loud made it sting even more.

I slung the bag over my shoulder, swallowing hard, willing myself not to cry. “Maybe I should just go back home to California… where I do belong,” I continued, the slight waver in my voice betraying me despite my best efforts to sound strong.

Dean didn’t say anything, but I could feel his eyes on me, watching as I turned toward the door. My legs felt heavy, my heart even heavier, but I was determined to leave before I completely broke down. I refused to let him see just how much this hurt. And with that, I walked out the door, refusing to look back.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧...

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 🤍

I’m backkkkkkk!!! I’m so so sorry for being MIA it’s been a lot for me the past month but I am back and I am more ready then ever to put out more stories for you!

I hope you enjoyed this one!! It’s going to be 2 parts — so there is more to come! I love you all so much and thank you for being so patient with me 🫶🏻🫶🏻 Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

Like & follow for more !! Xoxo

Want to read more? Check out my other stories!

Master list 📋

Bingo Masterlist 💚

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@kr804573 / @deanscherrypie420 / @reignsboy19 / @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @riah1606 / @deanwinchestersgirl8734 / @thoughtfullyfurryangel / @10ava01 / @jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 / @ladysparkles78 / @whimsyfinny / @deansimpalababy

[moonrise0111]

Nekoma plays Mini Golf

Kuroo: genuinely loves the game and is the absolute WORST at it. Everyone is usually confused because he talks about how much he loves to play but when they go he is SO BAD. He takes forever to line up his shot and then misses by miles. He loves every moment.

Kenma: gets bored of the boring holes and prefers the ones where timing and thinking are involved, like the windmill or drawbridge type. Beats Kuroo every time which he takes no pride in because Kuroo is somehow that bad.

Yaku: doesn’t find mini golf very entertaining. How is hitting a tiny ball with a stick into a hole in the ground enjoyable? He doesn’t know. But he goes whenever Kuroo gets really excited about it because he’s a good friend and all that. He’ll watch Kenma play games when things get boring and they always go for ice cream afterwards so he’s here for that.

Kai: really likes the more intricate courses with running water or moving pieces. He likes to go every so often but prefers playing normal golf. His friends call him a dad for it.

Tora: takes the entire event very seriously and is the only one trying to keep an updated score card for the entire party of people going. He’s pretty good but he’s no Shouhei.

Fukunaga: is a literal mini golf beast to no one’s surprise. He gets several holes in one and tries to talk to the frogs sitting at the edge of a pond while he’s at it. They respond?? Somehow? Because of course they do.

Lev: has issues playing because the places usually don’t have clubs tall enough for him so he has to bend down a lot to even hit the ball. By the end of the course he just swings the club with one hand and normally ends up with a score of 5-8 on the last few.

Inuoka: is honestly pretty good at mini golf. He makes shocking accurate sound effects whenever he hits the ball or when the ball goes in. Loves courses with themes, like pirate or jungle themed ones.

Shibayama: is absolutely horrible on the first half and nails the second half. Every. Single. Time. He doesn’t understand what happens to him the second he makes it to hole 10. It’s like playing with two different golfers.

Teshiro: generally does “eh” for most of the course but someone manages to consistently get a hole in one on one of those “Win a free game for 1 person!” shots. He saved them for years and brought the entire team out for a free game of mini golf. Kuroo lost by about 47 strokes that time (shut up Kenma that’s good for my standards here) and bought him ice cream.