#what happened and it was created with him + he plays the lead

[bronze-and-silver-keys]

Pregame v3 au where I basically rewrite all of it in this fic

Warning very long post

So following the reopening of Hope's Peak Academy, with Makoto as headmaster (following the end of the dr3 anime), new students are scouted for the 79th class. The talents they end up recruiting are largely for the sake of rebuilding society after the tragedy. They looked for talents that would help the environment, the people, and society as a whole recover with better systems in place.

Ecosystem Team

Lead by Aoi Asahina

Members:

Gonta Gokuhara, Ultimate Entomologist

Responsible for helping maintain the huge garden within Hope’s Peak Academy grounds, caring for various plants to attract and house pollinators and restoring populations of the insects and critters that are important to the balance of the ecosystem and food production.

Rantaro Amami, Ultimate Adventurer

Part of the main search and rescue team, sailing out to find city ruins and explore them or touch base with developing cities recovering from the Tragedy and get them in touch with FF/HPA for any future assistance. Still searching for his sisters during these trips. Survivalist, mapping, and navigation expert.

Kirumi Tojo, Ultimate Maid

Does as she's asked to help clean up environmental destruction. Acts as a kickass support wherever she's needed, and helps to maintain the HPA building and other facilities.

Social Team

Lead by Makoto Naegi and Yasuhiro Hagakure

Members:

Kaede Akamatsu, Ultimate Pianist

Writes and plays new pieces of music to perform to the survivors of the Tragedy and restore hope within them

Angie Yonaga, Ultimate Artist

Creates new art pieces that inspire others to create as an outlet for their despair to make way for hope

Tenko Chabashira, Ultimate Neo Aikido Master

Practices and spreads the teachings of Neo Aikido as a method of self defense, as well as a way to get in touch with emotions and physically work out those emotions

Himiko Yumeno, Ultimate Magician

Comes up with and performs elaborate tricks to restore wonder and hope in the audience, it helps to know there's a little bit of magic still left in the world

Subteam in Towa City led by Toko Fukawa and Komaru Naegi

Societal Team

Lead by Byakuya Togami and Kyoko Kirigiri

Members:

Korekiyo Shinguji, Ultimate Anthropologist

Uses his expertise and research of other cultures to assist in building a stronger society that is less susceptible to the kind of collapse that happened with the Tragedy, largely focusing on the social and cultural aspects of these structures.

Miu Iruma, Ultimate Inventor

Uses her vast knowledge to design and create inventions that will help with the destruction and pollution of the planet and make it livable and more accessible for the survivors of the Tragedy

Shuichi Saihara, Ultimate Detective

Kirigiri's apprentice. Assists with rebuilding a better society in regards to laws and systems put in place by the government to support the people to lessen crime and preventing a repeat of the Tragedy.

No team:

K1-B0, Ultimate Robot

Often hanging out with Miu to further her talent research as well as his own, seeing how far he can push himself and how lifelike he can become as an android. His existence is really what makes him Ultimate.

Kaito Momota, Ultimate Astronaut

Continues his Astronaut training and researches celestial phenomenons purely for the joy of exploring the universe and having more knowledge about its vastness

Ryoma Hoshi, Ultimate Tennis Pro

HPA bailed him out of juvie to study his tennis skills and his participation on the recovery teams would serve as public service. Helps out wherever he's needed, prefers the Ecosystem Team.

Maki Harukawa, Ultimate Assassin

Occasionally called out with the Social team to apprehend particularly difficult opponents still under the influence of Junko and Ultimate Despair. Most of the time, the academy is just a safe space for her to relax and train her mind and body.

Tsumugi Shirogane, Ultimate Cosplayer

HPA is a safe haven for her after being rescued from a city completely decimated by the Tragedy, and she spreads her love of cosplay to others looking for a little escapism in the hellish world they've suffered through.

Kokichi Ouma, Ultimate Supreme Leader (?)

No one really knows what his talent is. The Future Foundation tracked his movements backwards and found he had several run-ins with the Remnants of Despair and even Kamukura when they were still inflicting despair upon the world. Somehow, he managed to charm his way out of danger each time. Kyoko found him and took him in, making him a ward of HPA and FF. HPA is his home more than anything now, though his fellow students don't know that.

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

Okay so I might have fully developed Supernatural brainrot with everything going on but bear with me as I ramble, okay?

So I made this post yesterday freaking out about Jared and Misha guest starring in The Boys s5 at some point, right? And I've come up with the most batshit insane headcanon/theory about what could happen. If it does happen, I might perish. If it doesn't happen, well, at the very least I have the basis for a really cool fanfiction once I finish The Boys and my rewatch of Supernatural. So here's the thing: in Supernatural, Chuck is a writer, right? In the TV series, Sam and Dean find this whole book series based on their lives written under the pen name Carver Edlund and they find out the author is Chuck and they think he's just a prophet but they later find out he's God. And in 15x12 Galaxy Brain, Chuck reveals to a random Radio Shed worker that he's created hundreds of alternate universes where Sam and Dean exist, but the universe that they are currently standing in, that Sam and Dean, they are his favorite. They excite him. They disappoint him. This version of Sam and Dean, our version of Sam and Dean, is his favorite. He then decides that all other versions of Sam and Dean and the stories that he wrote for them in those alternate universes were "failed drafts" and that it was time to "cancel" them. Of course the gang is able to defeat Chuck by the end of the show, but not before he goes on a rampage destroying all these alternate universes and versions of Sam and Dean (and other key story members). However, it is revealed in the prequel show The Winchesters that after Jack was instated as the new God, he reverted the multiverse to its original state.

Which leads me to The Boys.

What if The Boys is one of Chuck's alternate universe's where he's playing with Sam and Dean as his favorite toys, but he decided to really spice things up in this one, so they aren't even Sam and Dean, they're Sam and Dean playing other characters that Chuck has designed? I mean, we're looking at Jared, Misha, and Jensen all working together in the final season of The Boys, I don't see why this couldn't happen. You could argue that Vought Rising could get in the way of that happening but that's going to be a prequel series. There's no telling what Jared and Misha's roles are going to be in The Boys and when in s5 they'll show up and what will happen after the show. What I'm implying is that this is our segue into Supernatural s16. Because what if The Boys was Chuck's backup Sam and Dean? What leads me specifically to question this (aside from the fact that it's another Eric Kripke show and we're getting a Team Free Will team up) is an interaction in Supernatural 3x10 Dream a Little Dream of Me. While helping Bobby in his comatose state, Dean runs into a nightmarish demon version of himself that prods at his deepest insecurities. The interaction goes as follows: "I mean after all, you got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog." "That's not true..." "No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's...do you even have an original thought? No. No all there is is 'Watch out for Sammy! Watch after your little brother boy!' You can still hear your dad's voice in your head can't you? Clear as a bell..." "Just shut up." "Think about it...all he ever did was train you, boss you around; but Sam? Sam he doted on. Sam he loved." "You made it. I'm getting angry." "Dad knew who you really were...a good soldier and nothing else...Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care if you lived or died, WHY SHOULD YOU?!" (Part 2 in reblogs bc of character count)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere King Naga // Part 1

Thinking about living in the forest once you’ve transmigrated to another world. Instead of getting caught up in some romance plot or adventure you decide to just live in a little cottage. Where you catch and cook your own food, making some passive income when you do venture into the town. On your way back from one of these trips you happen upon a little bundle crying on the dirt path.

“Oh my, who forgot you little sunshine?”

You smile when their crying ceases when you lightly rock them, beginning to notice a few odd-looking patches on their cheek. Then when those tiny eyes finally open little slits look back up at you while their mouth with little budding incisors open to coo at you. All of it leads to you opening up the bundled wrappings around them to find a wiggly and stubby little snake’s tail. It is then you make the perilous decision to raise this little naga in secret. 

In this world, you could tell it wasn’t advanced enough to accept monsters or anything not human into the community. That you might be branded a monster as well just for caring for the creature. Nonetheless, you rationalize that this is perfect for your forest life–where you’re more likely to meet other monsters than humans. Thus your life with this little one begins and you thank his naga-biology that he grows up fast. 

“I caught a mouse! Are you proud of me!”

“Yup, I’m real proud! Now come on you need a bath.”

But not too fast. Life is good for a while while you tend to the house your little one—Nox ventures to the perimeter of the forest to play before returning to you. He is still a child. Things go on normally until he comes slithering to you with snot in his nose, tears in his eyes, and babbling through tears. Hugging and holding him you check for injuries and when you find none you try to convince him to talk to you.

“What’s wrong, Nox?”

“I-I-There’s a guy out there! A-a-and he keeps following me! Look!”

Hiding behind you and clutching your pants, following his finger to the underbrush of the forest around you harden your stance. Thinking about the knife in your pocket and your other hand holding onto Nox, keeping him behind you. Watching the leaves and branches rustle with movement you prepared yourself for a fight. 

“Are you this child’s guardian?”

It’s another Naga, standing tall on a tail adorned with patches of gold in his white tail. Hiding further in the brush you can tell there are black rings around the tip of their tail which seems to be coiled a lot closer. He’s lean but muscular and his golden eyes are glaring at you. 

“I am. Why?”

He hisses, “To think a human would take in a hatchling purely out of goodheartedness is ridiculous. I’m going to take this child home where he belongs.”

“Nooo!”

“He’s my kid and if you want to fight for him I will do that.”

With a final pat on Nox’s head, you tell him to stay near the house. You goad the naga man into a place near the forest saying you’d rather not do this in front of Nox before taking off running. You know he’s following as you hear him angrily hiss and slither through the wood. Bringing him to a desired spot you turn keeping your knife behind you as he launches his tail in your direction. Expecting it, you dodge finally revealing your knife and aiming it at his tail creating a gash that has him hissing. 

“Haaaa Insolent Human! How dare you!?”

Usually, with a knife like yours, you never would have broken the protection of the scales but taking care of Nox offered some invaluable insight. You tried to dodge again but failed as his tail coiled around you in the blink of an eye. Squeezing immediately it took you a moment to turn your knife around to stab at what scales you could. He grunted but seemingly had settled for the stab at the expense of strangling you. 

“I’m going to enjoy watching the life leave from you, human! Your kind makes me sick.”

The pressure was unbearable but your adrenaline was high and with the simple gesture of bringing you closer to spit in your face you took a leap of faith. Abandoning your knife for some wiggle room you launched forward clamping onto his neck your only weapon left—your teeth. 

That seemed to catch him off guard his tail unraveling enough to let the rest of your body go. Now allowed to pin him down, using your feet and hands to pin down his own as you continued to bite into his neck you didn’t stop until you heard him moan.

“Aaaa~! Wait no, please! You’ve got to let aah~!

In your peripheral, you could see his alabaster tail twirl and twist oddly. From your position, you couldn’t see his face but you could imagine what his expression was. Considering you could feel the connection of his hips bucking against your own. The final nail in the coffin other than his constant streams of wonton moans you could hear the familiar worried slither of your son coming through the wood. 

He was calling for you. Hopefully, so loud he would miss the Naga continuing to make the loud moans despite you standing over him and wiping your teeth of his blood. Finally, looking at him you could see the darkened tips of their ears and cheeks as they continued to oddly curl on themselves. You didn’t bother trying to stop him, not wanting to trigger another fight you just ran scooping Nox up and barricading you both in your home. Hopefully, by the time the Naga man comes to his senses, he will have accepted his loss by then and leave. 

Unbeknownst to you that Naga would spend all night shifting and rolling in their ground replaying the fight. All the while moaning and groaning, driving all the smartest predators far away. This would continue until daybreak when he finally stopped but the heat in his cheeks was far from gone.

“That–that human is perfect…a human…who would’ve guessed.”

After a day you venture out, Nox sticking close to you while you undo the locks of the door with a knife in hand. Looking out you hoped you’d find no one in the clearing near your home—that was not the case.

“Hello human!”

Slamming the door on his face, you replay the expression and the closeness that they were standing outside the door. If only to sate your curiosity you opened the door again. 

“Hi–”

Slam

“How are–”

Slam

“You?”

When he seems to stay in that same place the whole rest of the day, you eventually encourage Nox to keep his nose down and help you with your chores.  Ignoring the smiley Naga who was oddly no longer hostile.

“What are you doing? Hanging your human clothes? How cute can I help?

“Is this how humans catch their food? How human-like so clever I would’ve never thought a net would be how you do that!”

“You are such a good parent to your little one? Would you like to have some more?”

Once you're able to shoo the intrigued Nox away, you decide to hose this guy down for answers. Good thing he’s happy to provide them. He finally introduces himself as a King of Naga who was coming to pass judgment on a Naga child living with a human from the smaller snakes of the forest. You hold your complaints about his presumptuous assessment, to ask why he’s still here assuming the fight said that you were capable enough to raise Nox.

“Yes well, now I’m courting you!”

“Excuse me?”

“You not only bested me in battle, you also did the most submitting action and claiming that a Naga could do. You…bit me~”

“Even so…I’m not a Naga.”

“Well usually that’d matter but I am the King of all Naga once my neck has been bitten and claimed there can be no others that is until you die.”

“Can’t you just pretend I died in the battle?”

“Preposterous your my destined mate! No other will do!”

Thus your days are spent trying to explain to Nox why the Naga you fought with was hanging around so often. On top of that the King Naga whose real name was Shian, had begun to ramp up his advances. No longer happy to just wave at you behind trees or happily follow you with your chores. He gets closer, testing your boundaries and breaking them as he intends to instigate some kind of reciprocation.

He is a King, And he’ll get what he wants....eventually.

Part 2: Here

[goldenstring6123]

Lnds: The type of kiss they like or so they think...

Warning: for 16+ only, Suggestive, Mildly implicit, self-insert, gender neutral.

Author's notes: Here's my first Lnds post! There's many more to come so i'll be creating a masterlist once i make 3 hcs

If you ask Sylus:

He'll say he likes the deep, breathy kisses during your make-out session with him; you pressed against his bed or his sofa, sometimes on the counter, and him being in between your thighs. He likes it when he grabs your jaw and leads the kiss. He likes seeing you flustered, even more so: Teary-eyed and catching your breath, but in reality—he likes the quick, chaste peck you give him at random parts of the day. It always catches him off guard, be it a quick peck as a goodbye or a peck you give him after winning a plushie. To almost every chaste kiss you give, he'll freeze for a moment, like a deer caught in headlights, before watching you move along with your task as if the kiss was something spontaneous. It makes him feel like something…something pleasant, of course. Of course, he'll never admit that to you.

If you ask Zayne:

He says the kisses during quiet, intimate moments are the ones he likes most: kissing while you stroll the park late at night or passionate but brief kisses between shows. Sometimes, he also prefers kisses in public spaces. However, not necessarily the long, deep ones, but rather the kiss where you pull him down to kiss you, or he reels you up so you can reach his lips; the sort of kiss where you ignore everyone around you for a reasonable amount of time. And he believes he won't ever tell you this unless he gets maddeningly drunk, but he likes it when you kiss him when you're angry or when you're in a bit of a daring mood. Unbeknown to himself, he likes it when you play rough and take the lead when you give him orders and glare at him, sitting on his lap and forcing his mouth to open and make way for you. Whenever this happens, it is also a way for him to let off some steam from work— he knows he doesn't have to be gentle with you, especially with how rough you're kissing him by then.

If you ask Xavier:

He'll almost always say he likes the kisses he steals from you after eating something sweet and flavorful. He likes how you're taken off guard by him holding your wrist and licking your glossy lips from the lollipop you ate or that instance where a thin film of icing hung at the corner of your lips. He likes the taste of the food and you mingling together. Your blushing is a bonus as well. But between him and his favorite action figure, He likes it most when he backs you into a wall when he no longer acts meek & cute and turns into a sly little minx with you. He likes it when you don't realize you're being pressed against the wall with nowhere to go. When he towers over you and doesn't break eye contact, those rare moments are when you go silent at his off-character actions; He likes those moments, especially knowing what entails beyond the kisses he gives you shortly after he's done teasing.

If you ask rafayel:

He says, almost too confidently, that he likes the kisses where you compliment him soon afterward. Be it a short kiss or a long, deep French kiss, it doesn't matter if you say the right words to make him feel assured of himself and your relationship. "You're beautiful," "My little fishy," and "I love you" are always appreciated as they fuel his ego the most. Without realizing it, he likes a particular type of kiss, the kind of kiss where you leave him marks. The kiss during your steamy sessions where you nibble at his delicate skin in areas where it wasn't visible to the public. On his chest, back, or stomach, and if he allows it, on his neck. He likes it when you trail kisses on any part of his body. Still, he loses his mind when you leave marks, treating him like a canvas, which is pretty ironic considering he's supposed to be the artist.

Author footnotes: Kinky Xavi— i genuinely believe he's a super freaky guy beneath that doe eyed cutie. Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by cafekitsune

[dolicekiss]

Hi,

I heard you were taking requests again, so I hope you don‘t mind me dropping one here.

Could you please write a story/one-shot, which takes place in the Hannibal universe, where Hannibal falls for one of his patients, who was a victim of a murderer, but managed to escape unscathed. When the murderer resurfaces again, she needs to stay with him and slowly he makes her depend on him. After hearing the news of his latest kill, Hannibal twists/abuses the situation to make her seek comfort from him.(with nsfw?)

Fragile Minds

PAIRING: Dark!Hannibal Lecter X Fem!reader

CONTENT WARNING: SMUT (18+, mdni please), coercion, adult grooming, taking advantage of reader, manipulation, trauma, mention of kidnapping, mention of nightmares, PTSD, gaslighting, age gap (unspecified but legal), unprotected sex, fingering, kissing, choking, bruising, slight fluff, infatuated hannibal who'll do anything to have reader.

Therapy was merely an escape.

For you, it was.

An escape from the people who gave you pitiful looks, sympathizing with you. Feeling bad for a girl like you who suffered from so much at such a young age.

You resented it. Everytime when you'd attend dinners at your relatives’ houses or when your friends would gaze at you with a sad pathetic look, treating you like some fragile little girl who needed extra care. It was all overbearing for you.

Hannibal Lecter’s office was the perfect escape.

He did not see you as some broken little doll, no. Rather he validated you, understood you, listened to you and made you feel comfortable in his presence. The only person who did not look at you with a pitiful, sad gaze.

You saw him as a kind and polite man who attended to your needs, your mental needs and took care of you in a way no one else had ever before.

You'd attended your session again, with a smile on your face. When the door to his office you opened, your smile widened and Hannibal returned it. You simply loved how he had created a safe space for you, how he did care for your well-being. You were his patient so it was his job but at least he was better than all the other people who only saw you as some broken shell.

“Hello.” Hannibal greeted and you nodded your smile, stepping inside. “Good evening, Doctor Lecter.”

His smile lines deepened. “Good evening. How are you feeling today?”

You slid off your leather coat, hanging it over the hook. Hannibal lead you to your seat and you happily followed, a constant routine which you'd gotten used to. Hannibal sat before you, on his own brown leather couch.

“I feel alright." You coyly said, hands toying with each other. Not a sign of discomfort but rather nervousness. Hannibal had made sure that you were comfortable around him.

Hannibal was not a man that was easily swooned away yet he was completely in awe whenever you played with your hands, twisting one finger over the other. That habit of yours was adorable to him, sort of akin to him.

Hannibal tilted his head.

You licked your lips. “I feel alright but I have nightmares about what happened.”

You had sort of disconnected from your trauma as that was the only way you could possibly cope. Hannibal noticed it but he didn't say much, when he should have. It was only to bring you closer to him, to make you depend on him.

“What do the nightmares consist of?”

“Him dragging me through a dark alley and showing me where he'll bury me.” You said all that so nonchalantly, Hannibal knew you hadn't broken up about it yet.

Ever since the incident, you shut everyone out. Felt like discussing about what happened and how it made you feel was not necessary at all and when the FBI advised you to speak to their psychiatrist, in order to help you regain the suppressed memories of the assault you'd encountered, it worked.

Hannibal smiled. “Does it scare you? You have trouble sleeping?”

You blinked, shaking your head. “No, I wake up numb. I was told it is unhealthy to not feel anything regarding this matter.”

“Are you bothered that he has not been apprehended yet?” You nodded your head in response.

You'd nearly died that rainy night. Your perpetrator had fully planned to murder you that night as you were the perfect victim in his followed pattern but somehow you managed to survive. Got away when he was busy digging up your grave.

The feeling that overcame you when you witnessed your own grave, where you'll be buried after your life has been snatched away from you — it was too foreign. A different type of overwhelming fear which consumed you to the point your brain had entirely shut it out.

As traumatized as you were, Hannibal was aware you had not fully coped up with this painful incident. You walked around and pretended like you were fine but he knew he needed to break you, in order to put you back together.

This time, to his own likeness.

“He has not killed anyone after I got away from him. I think he is going to come back for me.” You spoke, tone impassive whenever you spoke about your trauma. “The thought always lingers in the back of my mind, Doctor Lecter.”

The aforementioned tossed one leg over the other and nodded his head, acknowledging your restlessness. “You survived him with your strong will to live. If he is to resurface again, I'm sure you will be able to defend yourself against him.”

Hannibal was right and you knew it. You'd escaped him with the desperate urge to live and that desperation saved your life.

But then Hannibal spoke up again with certain darkness in his voice. “You'll always have me, love. I will be there for you as I always have been.”

You smiled softly.

He was right. He was there — from the beginning to the end. He had coaxed you out of your shell, helped you express your feelings, much more. Hannibal had helped you beyond anything and you felt like you'd forever be in his debt.

Hannibal’s proclivity for protecting you and caring for you stemmed from the romantic feelings he began to develop for you over the course of the past few weeks. The moment he laid his gaze upon you, he knew you were the one.

You'd climbed over the walls around him without even intending to do so. Your little laughs, your interest in seeing the art he'd created with only a pencil, even reaching you calligraphy.

Hannibal was deeply in love and that was not a good sign.

“I appreciate you, Doctor Lecter.” You smiled, teeth showing. The session soon came to an end and you left for your apartment. Hannibal didn't like seeing you go but he had to let you go. There was so much he could do to bring you closer to him and he noticed how you were already beginning to become dependent on him.

He liked that. The taste of freedom was on your tongue but your strings were controlled by Hannibal.

As soon as you reached your apartment, you could only look forward to another session with him. You were entirely blind to how much you had grown attached to Hannibal, how much he affected you and everything in your life.

You only saw the camaraderie he offered you in a time of struggle, pain and utter loneliness.

But little did you know that was the whole plan. Hannibal had been offered a chance at friendship before too but he rejected it, all and everytime though with you, the case was different. He was a lonely man, painfully lonely and he craved company.

Your company.

So when he saw you, he made it his mission to make you depend on him. Grow used to him, attached and fully bonded like you were his mate.

You turned on the TV, hoping you'd be able to relax but your phone dinged. You reached for it, picking it up and unlocking. Eyebrows scrunching up when you saw the link you'd received from an anonymous number.

You contemplated whether to check it or not and your curiosity finally got the best of you when you tapped on it. It took you to an article — by Freddie Lounds.

Your blood ran cold when you read the contents of it. Fingers losing their strength and your phone slipping out of their grasp, hitting the couch. You blinked profusely, hoping that this was a lie but you were all aware that no matter how problematic Freddie Lounds was, she delivered real events and not some made up ones.

The article included of your killer — finally risen again, taking another victim. Your breathing grew uneven, all the memories your brain had locked out now freeing themselves.

Shattered breathing and a thumping heart reminded you of your suppressed fears when the anesthesia of your mind had wore off.

Body beginning to oscillate on the couch, your teeth ripped the skin off your lips, causing them to bleed. Panic had filled you up.

You were next. You knew it.

In this vulnerable moment, you knew only one person that was capable of calming you down and that was Hannibal Lecter. You didn't think for a moment, grabbing your car keys and heading for the door.

Seeing the weather only increased the fear and uneasiness which you attempted to repel inside you. Grey clouds loomed above your head when you made it outside your apartment building and the rain only felt like droplets of acid pouring over your skin.

Tears losing their identity within the cries of mother nature, engulfing your whole being.

How sad, how pitful that what worked to calm down others was burning you.

You tried to scream but nothing came out.

All your suppressed emotions had swam up to the surface and there was no escape.

You don't remember how you managed to drive through the heavy rain, soaked with a blurred vision. It was a blessing — rather a curse from God to have protected you from an inevitable car crash.

All you remember was ending up outside Hannibal’s house — fist banging over the wood. When the door was pulled open, Hannibal found you soaked and withered like a flower in front of him. Drenched hair sticking to the ridges of your face, dress clinging to your frame, shoulders showing off a perpetual tremor, cheeks flushed and through all that Hannibal managed to pick up on the tears that slid.

He was quick to pull you inside, without a word exchanged between the two of you. His palm opened, laying on your back. You had no idea why you were here but being in Hannibal’s presence sufficiently managed to make you feel a tad bit better.

You looked up at him, mumbling incoherent words and the man didn't hesitate for a moment to bring you in a hug. His own button up and vest becoming wet in the process.

All that mattered to him was comforting you.

You buried your face in his chest, sobbing and finally breaking apart. The way he exactly needed you to. His heart ached feeling your little body shiver in his hold but this was necessary.

He had to do this. Had to trigger you somehow so he could find you in a vulnerable headspace and coerce full codependency out of you.

The killer only helped fasten the process and Hannibal knew Freddie Lounds was an unethical journalist who only cared for content. Working in the FBI wasn't that bad when Hannibal had access to the murder files and photographs. All he had to do was anonymously send to Lounds and then send the article to you.

A smile decorated his features when you crumbled in his embrace.

“He-He'll come—come back for me. He—”

You were a mess. A mix of overwhelming emotions and beautiful flesh. Hannibal shushed you, caressing your head with his palm as you unleashed weeks worth of suppressed trauma and anguish.

“I'm here.” He said softly, tightening his hold over you in a protective manner. “You have me, only me. You don't need anyone else.”

You nodded in agreement, both palms pressed over his broad chest. Your body had grown cold and Hannibal was beginning to worry.

He pulled apart from you, or attempted to but you clung to him like a koala. Fists bunching up the material of his button up, body aching to feel his warmth. Becoming greedy but Hannibal was going to give you all the warmth you so desperately craved.

“You will fall sick, love. Let me bring you some clothes.”

Your hands loosened their grip over his shirt and he peeled from me. Biceps soaked from how tightly they were draped around you, skin underneath them revealed. After sitting you down on the couch, Hannibal went to find you some clothes.

He could not put the paramount happiness he felt into words. Everything, from beginning to end had worked in his favor. He was in control and he enjoyed it more than anything. All he had to do was use your trauma against you, push you into a state of vulnerability where you only needed him.

He brought you his own clothes, a shirt that would be too big on you. Hannibal craved to see how you'd look, he was fucking excited.

You were still shivering, chest leaping up from little hiccups. Hannibal walked over to you with the shirt and a glass of water he'd fetched from the kitchen on his way to the living room.

“Here, drink this. You'll feel better.” You reached for the glass with shaky fingers and Hannibal noticed them. In one single go, you finished the glass. He took it from you and placed it on the nearest table before handing you over his shirt.

“Please change into this. You'll fall sick and we don't want that happening, do we?”

You had no energy to change. It required all your will power to drive here and now you were too far gone to even function like a proper human. Hands numb and frozen.

You raised your gaze at him, glossy and red eyes becoming the cause of his heavy beating heart.

Hannibal swallowed.

He did not know you would grow this beautiful, this breathtaking after breaking apart. In your destruction, you were the most beautiful. Blooming like a new flower. Like a piece of art, you filled his heart with bliss.

“I can provide help.” He tested the waters and all you did was turn around on the couch, moving to the side to reveal the zipper of your dress to him.

Hannibal sat next to you, brawny hands reaching for the zipper. You closed your eyes as tears fell, a few sobs escaping. Hannibal’s fingers slowly dragged the zipper down and you leaned more into his touch when his fingers accidentally brushed over your wet skin. You swallowed — body growing used to the man's minor touch.

He exposed your back when the zipper met the end, glistening bare skin greeting him. He could tell from the way you shifted in your seat or how the goosebumps poked through your skin that you were relishing in this.

Hannibal’s knuckles caressed your skin, your breath hitched.

Hannibal carefully and tenderly pushed the sticky dress off your shoulders, exposing your beautiful shoulders. Bare and raw to his lascivious gaze. He was so obsessed, so infatuated. Fingers dancing across where your shoulder blades sat, tongue swiping over his own lips.

He was a starving madman.

Only the sound of fire crackling over the wood in the fireplace could be heard in the room, along with your bated breathing and sharp intakes of air. Hannibal’s adam apple bobbed up and down as he fully pulled the dress down.

The heavy soaked material of cotton bunched up at your waist. Your bare chest rose up and fell down in uneven breaths, nipples hardening because of the chilly air.

You were ready to stand up to discard the dress but Hannibal’s hands circled around your arms, pulling you back against his chest. Your eyes fluttered shut as he breathed over your nape.

His warm breath leaving chills in its wake and you shuddered in his grasp. The self control Hannibal possessed was worthy of immense respect and appreciation because only he knew how badly he wanted to let go and claim you.

But he had to wait.

He waited for so long, what's more a few hours or days.

He found himself growing obsessed with your mere scent. How sweet you smelled, how hypnotic it was. Worked like magic over him.

“Arms.” Hannibal sounded commanding and you raised your arms, slipping them into the large sleeves of the emerald shirt. Hannibal didn't bother to unbutton it as it was oversized and you slipped right into it.

He soon pulled the dress down to your legs and discarded it somewhere.

He brushed your hair with his beautifully sculpted fingers, mind overthrown by the images of your bare back and gorgeous shoulders.

You slowly turned to face him, face flushed and tears coating the apple of your cheeks.

“Thank you.“ You whispered, stifling the urge to sob. You were still all over the place, hoping that all of this was a dream and you'd wake up soon between your thick blanket.

Hannibal nodded. “I told you, I will always be here. You're safe with me, love. I can protect you from this man, keep you safe but you need to stay close to me in order for me to protect you.”

You thought about it and he was right.

If you'd gone to someone else after reading that article, they would have never opened their door to you. Never would have allowed you in but Hannibal, like your guardian angel, was right there.

Your gaze fell to capture his lips for a moment before flickering back up to his sparkling eyes.

“It is your decision, at the end.” Of course it was.

But your words were driven by Hannibal’s manipulation and gaslighting. Using his wit and psychology to push you over the cliff, only to be waiting down there to catch you.

Your words were yours but your lips were controlled by Hannibal.

You shuffled closer to him, knees coming in contact with his. With hesitation, you threw your arms around him and veiled your face with his nape. Hannibal circled his arms around your frail waist, a smug smile crossing his lips.

A smug smile of victory.

When you broke the hug, Hannibal cupped your face and leaned in to press a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. You didn't complain, knowing that this was unethical but you didn't care. You craved this, a doomed touch starved creature you were.

Hannibal’s blonde strands fell over his face and you reached for them, caressing them between your fingers. He took in a deep breath, fingers nearly digging into your waist from the sheen of desire on his mind.

“You're like spring, my love. Bloom like the flowers.” Hannibal whispered, finally leaning in to press his lips over yours. You allowed him to, your own hands slithering over his nape, fingers tangling in his roots.

Hannibal pressed his body against yours in desperate attempts to feel you as he pushed him down on the couch. His lips devoured you, the kiss full of seeting passion. You felt his tongue coat your lips with saliva and you parted open your mouth, a lustful invitation.

His tongue mingled with yours, breath and spit becoming one. You whimpered into thw kiss as Hannibal’s hands moved up from your waist to unbutton the shirt he'd put you in. Only enough to expose your breasts to him. Hannibal loved how the silk shirt clung to your body, how it complimented your soft skin.

You arched your back when his hands fondled with your breasts, thumbs squeezing your hardened peaks between them. Hannibal had lost all his restraint. He could not stop kissing you, forbidding you the pleasures of breathing.

You tried to pull away but that was a mistake as he began to kiss you with more vigor. Locking your lips together, fucking your mouth with his wet tongue. His saliva had coated your lips as well as your chin, in tiny invisible rivulets

“H-Hannibal, wait.” You whispered and he finally tore himself away from you, breaking the kiss.

When your eyes got used to his vision, your cunt throbbed at how handsomely disheveled he appeared. Hair a mess from all the entanglement of your fingers, lips glossy with your saliva and eyes darkened. His blown out pupils were a full proof of his overbearing need for you.

His face moved to hide in your neck, lips peppering soft wet kisses over it. You winced when you felt him bite into you, a whine leaving you. Hannibal's one hand slithered down to the lace panties you wore, fingers grazing over the hem of them. You inhaled a sharp breath — feeling him slip his hand inside your underwear.

His fingers gathered your arousal before pressing over your clit, rubbing it in soft circles. Your back arched off the couch as your breathy moans grew louder. One hand toying with your cunt while the other twisted and tugged at your nipple, you were in complete bliss.

Hannibal’s fingers dropped lower and he slid one inside your cunt. Your walls clenched around him, a whine escaping you. If you'd been told you would end up with your psychiatrist’s fingers buried inside your cunt, you would probably think of it as a fever dream but here you were.

Hips writhing underneath him. Hannibal stared at you, licking his hungrily. You looked so breathtaking, panting like you'd run a marathon. Cheeks blossoming with a sweet pink hue.

Hannibal pulled out his fingers, losing his grip on patience. He could unfold the layers of your body some other day, right now he needed you and he was going to take was his.

He rid himself of his clothes, discarding the pieces by the couch. You were in awe of what he had to offer especially when your gaze lowered to between his legs. A cock rock hard — standing proudly, deliciously curved. You subconsciously licked your lips and fluttered your eyes back at him.

Hannibal parted open your legs, sliding between them. Holding his cock, he guided it into you and your hands flew to grip his bare biceps, nails piercing.

As you felt him enter you, stretching you past your limits, you flinched. It didn't hurt nor did it bring you unbearable pain but you still needed time to get used to Hannibal’s size.

Hannibal cupped your face, large hands bringing you warmth.

“My beautiful Love. You will feel better soon as all I wish to do is bring you pleasure.” You nodded your head at his sugary words, releasing your grip around his biceps and moving your arms around his neck.

You pulled him closer, an action which gave him the order to fuck you and he did. Hannibal lifted your legs, placing each on each side of his hips before fully driving himself into your soaked cunt.

A whimper emitted from your throat when you felt him fully sink into you. Your gummy walls gripping around him like the tail of a snake around its prey — feeling every protruding vein.

Hannibal started to move, back and forth but slowly to make you feel each and every thrust. A whine of need and desperation echoed in the room, silencing the crackling of the fire.

“Tell me what you need, my love. Tell me what is it that you ache for?”

Your vision blurred. “You.”

That was all Hannibal needed to drill his cock into your tight pussy. Like some animal who'd finally caught its prey and with the intention to tear it apart limb by limb consumed it. Your body jerked forward from each harsh thrust, his balls slapping against the stripe of your cunt.

“Hannibal! Hann—ohmy.” Your moans grew, so did his pace. He fucked you with strong will and determination to draw a rippling orgasm out of you.

Hannibal’s hand wrapped around your throat in a purely possessive manner. To claim that you were his. He bruised your throat but not with the purpose to hurt you, rather taint you as his. Brand you forever.

A fucking collar embedded in your blood streams.

Both your hands held onto his wrist as he bruised your skin, all the while mounting you and chasing his own orgasm. Everytime he hit that spot of yours, tears fell and collapsed against the couch. His cock head driving itself ferociously into your cervix.

Hannibal felt his stomach taut, so did you.

Your thighs shivered, hips stuttering underneath his and Hannibal caught that. How could he not? He captured every little action of yours, every response your body gave to his. He was in love and his love was not the good kind.

“I feel it, Hannibal I-I feel it.” You cried out and he nodded, panting and groaning. All the sounds he made only worked to increase your sex drive — you craved him more, despite him being inside you. Your cunt clenched around him, gripping him and Hannibal nearly whined at how fucking good you felt.

Both of you were close and with one harsh thrust, Hannibal spilled his load inside you while you released all over him. His seed had tainted your walls. He didn't stop there.

He continued to thrust inside you, slow and sensual rolling of his hips inside your cunt.

Your eyes had fallen shut, disappearing into your skull. Seeing the same white Hannibal had painted your walls with.

“You're the prettiest, my pretty girl.” Hannibal whispered against your forehead, pressing a soft kiss to it. He soon pulled out and collapsed right next to you as you shuffled to give him space.

Laying on his chest, you were the happiest. Naked bodies entangled together for eternity and you had no idea just what you'd gotten yourself into. Raising your eyes at Hannibal’s face, you already found him looking at you with a smile.

His fingers trailed along your hair as he held you rightly in his arms. You released a sigh of content. “Hannibal, I-I think I'm in love with you.”

You sounded sure that you had fallen in love with your psychiatrist and as unprofessional as it was, you hoped that he too reciprocated these unbridled emotions. You had no idea just how happy you'd made him by uttering out those words.

He kissed the top of your head. “I have always been in love with you, my girl. You have no idea how much I tried to control these feelings I harbor for you.”

You shook your head. “You don't have to control them anymore, Hannibal.”

He didn't have to, not anymore. He had you right where he wanted you and everything had fallen right into place. Pushing you towards the edge was worth it — when the result was you, in his arms, it was all worth it.

[esotericbluntbaby]

tendencies

hamzah the fantastic x reader

description: hamzah, having a match on valentines day, gets caught up in his own world without his girlfriend. after missing the date he was supposed to go on with you after his match, he picks you up in the darkness of the night. the lingering angst and anger builds up into a plethora of tension; more specifically, a more erotic, steaming tension.

mentions: ANGST! obvi, arguments, build up of tension between you and him, both of you have your toxic traits that really shine through, nsfw!, impact play..?, size kink..?, masochist! reader, boxer! hamzah, hurt/comfort, happy ending because sadly i dont think i could ever give u guys a bad ending

PLS DONT KILL ME AGAIN I HAD TO STUDY FOR A CALC QUIZ

--

you were soaking wet, and not in the good way.

hamzah was supposed to be at the purring cat hours ago, leading to your valentines day spent skimming over the laminated menus and sipping on a martini that couldn't get you drunk even if you tried. the warm oranges and reds in the room's lighting and ambiance mimicked the anger you felt rising up inside of you. the lighting, obviously intended to create a romantic atmosphere for all the happy couples on the day of love, taunted you like it was a witch holding out lollipops to children.

now, if some external circumstance did happen, you weren't the type to get riled up or anything; you were a decently reasonable person who was always wiling to hear him out. however, there were multiple blue bubbles on your phone from texting him about his whereabouts and a diminishing amount of his texts responding; in fact, there was really no response at all. you valued the communication and comprehension that was, normally, found in your relationship. however, there was a complete lack of on the day that it mattered the most. you were simply a pawn in his game; you didn't know how much longer you could keep getting moved to different areas of his board without knowing when this game would be over.

it was now so far into the night that the waiters exchanged glances of pity at one another, ending up with your meal comped and a complementary lava cake in front of you. you realized you had said that he was running late for the past two hours. gazing at the melting ice cream placed on top of the moist delicacy in front of you, it mocked you with a certain hunger that you didn't know how to explain. simply gazing at it made you remember how it was supposed to be him that you were dining with.

it was supposed to be him who was holding open the door for you, not some random couple who booked the same reservation time as you. it was supposed to be him who was grabbing your hand from across the table as you both marveled at the complexity of the menu, not you simply ordering a martini to sip on while you waited for him to show up. it was supposed to be him who paid for dinner, not the employees who gave you pity smiles and reassuring gestures of, "i'm sure he'll be here soon."

a scowl of disdain ended up plastered on your features like a mural to an empty wall. furrowed eyebrows, pursed lips, and resentful eyes made its way to your facial expression, which you understood was what caused all the waiters to comp your meal; not out of gratuity, but out of sorrow and compassion. you also understood that the waiters shouldn't have had to comp your meal, if your boyfriend was simply there.

he finally arrived in the lounge as they were about to close at around 11 o'clock at night; you had been waiting there for about three hours. bruises riddled his face, a more prominent one forming on the bridge of his nose. you were too upset to care. not one single text, nor one call, and instead, a pity meal given by those around you. a cyclone had formed, rushing winds and emotions being swirled around the two of you regarding the tension within the air between you. there was not a single word spoken, yet an understanding that you were both going to leave.

as you walked to the parking lot, he attempted to put his arm around your shoulder as if nothing happened; as if he didn't leave you to fend for yourself on the one day that you shouldn't have had to. so, you threw his arm off you, causing an audacious scoff coming from his mouth. the car ride was silent after that.

opening the door, your heels slammed on the floor with a slight stomp echoing with every step. you unlocked the door for yourself, closing it behind you with a loud bang of intensity radiating off of your emotions. you were incredibly pissed and you wanted him to know that.

--

the next day, you still avoided hamzah like he had the plague and was going to spread it to you with every word spoken. you slept on opposite sides of the bed, an invisible barrier being set between the both of you. you ate breakfast together in silence, only after he decided to sit with you on the island. you sat on opposite ends of the couch as you continued the series you started together before he decided to be a complete jackass, only after he joined you on the couch.

it was only throughout the series that he realized he fucked up incredibly and you realized that it's been almost a full day without a single apology. so, he shifted uncomfortable in his seat, sighing heavily as his eyes made it to you.

hamzah could lie and say that he absolutely hated that you were mad at him with no amount of leniency regarding your behavior; he could lie and say that the anger and passion in your face didn't turn him on. he knew it was bad, however, it was like something primal awakened in him. he didn't like you mad, obviously; more importantly, he didn't want you to leave him. however, hamzah believed that you were incredibly hot with that certain scowl on your face. he was at an ultimatum; keep you upset and angry at him so he could admire you even more than he already does, or apologize so that he could stop being a complete asshole.

he chose the latter, attempting to ease his way into an apology.

"i lost yesterday."

you were quick with a rebuttal, "serves you right."

"i didn't show up because i was with some friends," he awkwardly rubbed his neck, "they offered me a drink and i stayed at their house for a little."

"that's so, so great, hamzah. what do you want, a fucking medal? a medal that says 'best boyfriend ever?'" you laughed sarcastically.

"i'm trying to apologize-"

"and i'm yet to hear the word 'sorry' exit your mouth."

his voice raised out of frustration, "because you aren't letting me fucking speak!"

"great, that's just- that's fucking great. not only do you ditch me on fucking valentines day, but now you're damn near cussing me out and yelling at me."

"oh my fucking god- i'm sorry, okay?"

"so sincere!" you exclaimed in sarcasm as you stood up from the couch, "that was the best apology ever! the only apology to ever fucking exist, actually! you might as well be a world-renowned fucking apologist, hamzah!"

you made your way to the kitchen, pouring grapes into a bowl for you to munch on as your boyfriend tried, and failed, to apologize. he followed you, still frustrated from your well-deserved attitude.

"look, i get it- i should've been there yesterday."

"they comped my fucking meal- do you know how bad they felt for me to the point where my meal was free?" you yelled, "3 hours- 3 fucking hours, jackass! i was there for 3 hours just sipping on straight vodka wondering where my fucking boyfriend was! now i'm finding out that he was with his friends instead of his girlfriend because- actually, there is no because. you're just an asshole for leaving me there like that.

he attempted to diffuse your anger by putting his hand on your shoulder, "hey-"

"not only that, but you lost your fucking match yesterday too. you fucked up with your girlfriend and also lost your damn match. how do you fuck up twice?"

you realized that was uncalled for the second it left your mouth. the expression in his face was no longer frustrated; this was pure, undeniable anger. he got closer to you, causing your eyes to look upwards towards him; the height difference caused the intimidation to rise between the both of you. yet, you weren't going to back down. he was the one who messed things up between you and, while you probably shouldn't have brought up his match, he did deserve it. there was a moment of silence between the two of you with your eye contact making all the conversation needed for a couple of seconds.

he stared at you with testing eyes, "what'd you just say?"

you made a noise between a laugh and a scoff, "i said that you fucked up twice."

his hand made its way to your neck, softly slamming you into the wall behind you. your hands made its way to grab at the hand choking you by the neck; not trying to take it off of you, but simply holding it in place. you took a sharp inhale as a smirk landed on your face, taunting him the way that the loneliness in that restaurant taunted you.

"enough with the fucking attitude."

"or what?"

he realized that you were enjoying the show that he was playing for you; he was simply a puppet in your theater. this was amusing to you; his hand around your neck was the piece de resistance of this play. you wanted to know what would happen next; in fact, you were hungry for the climax.

he laughed angrily, "oh, i get it."

"what do you get?" you acted clueless.

"you wanted this."

you scoffed, "don't get too caught up in your ego."

"what? you want me to apologize, baby? you want me to make it up to you?" his hand on your neck became tighter.

you gasped, "frankly, i don't give a shit about what you do."

suddenly, a sting emerged onto your cheek. hamzah slapped you with his hand, as he choked you with his other. your head was turned to the side, until the hand he slapped you with made it back to your face. he turned you so that you were now looking at him with your head towards his own. he gently caressed the area with the burning sensation. even in his rough moments, you're still his princess.

"you got a fuck ton of attitude for someone whose neck is in my hand," he got closer to your ear and began to speak quieter, "you're so fucking tiny, you know that? compared to me, you're so small. your neck fits in one of my hands- both of your hands fit in one of my hands. i could ruin you if i wanted to."

"except you won't."

he laughed once again, "you sure about that?"

"i'd like to see you try-"

and with that sentence, hamzah's lips were rammed into yours. this kiss was full of hunger and remorse. the two of you couldn't get enough of how the kiss was altered by how angry and sexually pent up the both of you were. the dinner yesterday was undoubtably going to end up in drunk and high sex, but this is different. this was sober and needy. this was feverish and hazy. this was better.

he manhandled you, carrying you as you straddled his waist with your thighs. laying you down on the bed, he began to take off the entirety of your clothes in swift and rough movements. getting to your underwear, he physically ripped it off of you with how rough he was being.

"hamzah!"

"i'll buy you three new ones."

he was left in his underwear by the time that his sentence was finished. taking off his boxers, his body moved on top of you in missionary and he aligned himself with the wetness of the area between your legs. he didn't give you much time to adjust as he slammed into you over and over again. he was never rough like this before. moans and your names were exclaimed from both of your sides; you were always a noise girl, so you finished quite quickly. embarrassingly quickly.

you expected hamzah to stop as he normally does; whenever you finish first, you normally let him finish by sucking him off or using your hands. however, his pace didn't stop; in fact, it quickened with the speed of a metronome on its highest setting.

he was overstimulating you, causing your hands to move on their own. you attempted to push him away, being met with being choked by him and slapped once more.

"h-hamzah-"

"you fucking asked for this."

though to an outsiders point of view, this was odd; to you, this was heaven without the process of dying. you previously asked hamzah to be more aggressive during sex; he knew that you were a masochist, yet he was always too scared to hurt you because he simply isn't that kind of guy. the realization of why he was being so rough was sweet. it was obvious to you that he felt bad for leaving you on valentines, and this was his unofficial way of apologizing. by making you feel the best you've ever felt, it made you more incentivized to forgive him for his mistakes.

he finished shortly after you, pulling out and laying down on top of you. the covers were over the both of you as you both laid there: sweaty, out of breath, and fucked out.

"did- did i do okay?" he asked, his anger and frustration now being masked with shyness and timidity.

"you did great, baby."

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to leave you yesterday- i was just upset and i didn't want you to see me like that, especially not in public. i should've texted or just toughened up."

"hamzah, just talk to me. i would've understood."

"but it was valentines day-"

"yea, it was, but i would've been fine just being with you. we didn't have to go out or anything."

"i was being a dick. you don't deserve that. i'm sorry, pretty."

you kissed him with a kiss that foiled the previous one, one that was more gentle, "it's okay. you can make it up to me another time."

he kissed you on the cheek, gazing at you from below, "be my valentine on unofficial valentines day tomorrow?"

"of course."

--

authors note!

guys i am SORRY i lied to u like terribly horribly sorry but happy late valentines day U WERE ALL MY VALENTINES SO NONE OF U WERE ALONE ON VALENTINES BECAUSE I WAS HERE ok i love u guys bye

[allhopesforlove]

Farewell, my love part 3

Summary: In the midst of a battle, y/n realizes that their only way to victory would be through her sacrifice. Determined with her decision to lead an army of soldiers to the frontlines, there was nothing that could hold her back. Because she was sure that if she continued living on she wouldn’t survive any more of what was blooming between Elain and Azriel.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Azriel x Elain

Word count: 6.6K

Warning: Angst, war, misogyny, pain and just more pain?

A/n: This one was crazy tbh it took everything of my rookie writing to create a 6k words piece 😭 storytelling is really complex and you have to learn to not forget bits of information and try to string up everything together. But well, I hope you guys enjoy this part <3

And btwwwe the speech part was HEAVILY inspired by our one and only goat Hajime Isayama (those who know, know) so all credits to his beautiful and sexy brain.

Song recommendation: The Hanging Tree by Jennifer Lawrence, Running up that Hill-epic version by Samuel Kim

part 1 part 2

———————

With every step she took, she felt a piercing sensation in her chest. Although surrounded by the smell of death and fear, the only thing plaguing her mind was Azriel’s sorrowful expression. It took every bit of strength in her to leave him and winnow away, after he nearly begged on his knees so that she wouldn’t leave him.

Now if she had listened to her heart she would’ve probably stayed and flung her arms around him. She would’ve swatted off Rhysand and Cassian off of him so that he could embrace her as well.

As much as that sounded like a perfect resolution, she was thankful that her rationality took over her.

She had to look reality in the eyes. The bond had just snapped for them, emotions were running high and to be frank, it were their instincts and carnal desires taking hold of their actions.

Well for her, she also has been in love with him way before their lives were strung up together by fate. But that didn’t matter anymore.

She was thankful that Azriel spoke the truth about his feelings for Elain, truly, because it snapped her out of the dream she was creating in her mind. About actually having a happy ending with him. How foolish.

And after she saw the way Elain had looked at her she came to a painful realization that she herself was the one bringing ultimate chaos and confusion to their lives.

Because Azriel and Elain were happy, genuinely, they were happy before her, andshe was certain that they would still find a way to become happy after her. So who was she to disrupt this beautiful future they had pictured for themselves.

She heaved out a sigh that has been bottling up inside of her. What a crazy turn of events.

One moment she found out her mate was the one she has loved for so long, and now she was walking with a heavy heart towards her death. Right.

She had to focus on the matter at hand.

And as she neared the military base and saw the first men and women walking around their tents, anxiety began to creep up on her. With every clatter of her armor she felt their gazes on her. Are they aware of what’s about to happen to them? Were they able to sense her anxiety?

With heavy steps she dared look them in the eyes. Sorrow. Pain. Suffering. She was met with hard gazes.

Some, she saw, were wearing bandages around them, some were missing limbs.

An eerie silence was following every step she took. The reek of ruin lingering in her nostrils. It felt as though she was trapped to stand in the center of a sinister play, orchestrated by Death himself.

She was slightly shaking and as she realized this she clenched her fist to get ahold of herself. This wasn’t the time nor the place to get second thoughts about her decision. So whatever it was that distracted her, she pushed it down and gave her best to also close down her side of the bond.

Because Azriel’s emotions were overwhelming her and she couldn’t allow herself to still linger on him. This was it. This is where it ends for them. For her.

Two males and a female were approaching her. She recognized them as the base commanders. She felt chills running down her body as she saw that one of them was missing an eye, the wound still looking fresh. Even if she was a warrior and fought in wars before, she would never get used to its aftereffects. Never get used to the suffering.

She stood still and waited for the commanders to arrive at her side. By the looks of it, they were probably informed by Rhys, because… because it appeared that tension had drained from their features, leaving behind only the hollow calm of someone who knew their fate. They carried a sort of confidence and strength parents would tell their children about when reading them tales about ancient heroes. It soothed her. Despite the circumstances she found strength in that.

She adjusted her posture and relaxed her face.

She was going to do this.

“We were informed of your arrival just a moment ago, general.” Right. She was the general. Second to Cassian.

“It’s good to see you again y/n.”

And she remembered Farlan, the male standing besides the other one with the lost eye. They had fought side by side and she had saved Farlan from an attack he didn’t see while he was in the midst of a fight back then.

“It’s good to see you, too Farlan. Although I wished we had met again in other circumstances.” She rasped out with a sigh. He mustered up a crooked smile at that.

She then looked at the other two.

“Were the troops informed of the next attack?”

But what she really had meant to ask was, if they knew that they’d be riding to their deaths and not live long enough to get a taste of freedom again. But they understood her.

“We didn’t have much time, as we just got informed as well. But I think that some can guess what your arrival means.” the female answered her.

And she realized that she didn’t know her name.

“Please forgive me for my ignorance. I didn’t ask your names…?”

“Iris. I am Iris and this-“

“My name is Adonis.” A gruff voice interrupted. By the looks of it Adonis looked way older than the other two. Older than herself. Ancient almost. And his scarred eye added to his aged skin as he looked like someone who has seen lots of their world’s cruelty. With a hardened look he asked

“I am guessing that you will lead us?“

A sly grin appeared on her face at the obvious statement.

“Why else would I be standing here.”

She said looking him straight into his eyes not yielding to his stare. She didn’t move a muscle.

He narrowed his eyes at her then

“Tsk. They should’ve sent the general.”

“I beg your pardon?” The audacity of this male. But before she could say anything more, he spit viciously

“You think they’ll take a little girl like you seriously when you tell ‘em to openly run into the arms of the enemy.”

And she saw red.

“If you are pussy enough, you are very free to go. That’s what I’ll tell them as well.”

She said with cold indifference and continued

“I dont have time to play little games Adnis-“

“Adonis.”

“Right, Adonis, whatever. Matter of fact, I actually don’t care, but here is what I am going to tell you-“

and she was pissed now, because she looked at him with such a void that it was chilling, and she saw how Farlan looked down out of reflex. Iris looked like she was in awe. Guess it was long due that someone put Adris or Adnis, or whatever, in his place.

With slow but self-composed steps she was now standing right before him, as she felt his ugly breath hit her face. She scrunched up her nose at that.

“- whatever opinions you have of me. I dont give a fuck. But let’s make one thing clear commander-“ and she pointed a finger on his armored chest.

“Your hate, your prejudices or your anger. They won’t do you any good anymore, because you and I? We share the same fate-“

and she also looked at the other two

“We all will fight with all our might and we will die on that battlefield, I can assure you that. No sweet talks, no lies. Just the cruel reality of what is to come. And while you are one step closer to death, you will see that your greed will not help you get out of death’s grip. So either get ahold of yourself or fuck off.” and he was flabbergasted.

“And one more thing-“

Her brows knitted together into an arrogant frown

“-I am your general, not the other way round, so don’t you forget that even in your last moments in life, it was a woman that stood above you.”

And she was satisfied with that ugly face he was making.

“Now close your gaping mouth before I have to smell any more of that disgusting breath.”

His face was flushed with anger and his mouth shut, as it was the last thing she saw before turning to the other two.

“I want you to gather up everyone. We don’t have much time, so I want everyone prepared in 10 minutes.”

“Of course, general.” she heard Farlan say and rush to get everyone ready.

She didn’t wait a minute longer and took off to get a moment to herself. But before she got too far, she heard footsteps rushing to her. So she slowed down and was met with Iris’ form.

“Is there a problem?”

She asked as Iris seemed like she was out of breath. But what the former had to say surprised her

“You…- I…” she pointed one finger up while leaning on her knees and heaving out some breaths, so y/n stayed still and waited patiently for her to continue.

When it seemed like Iris was gaining composure again, she looked at her with such admiration it made y/n curious of what she had to say.

“I wanted to thank you general. The way you talked to Adonis, the way you put him in his place? That was something I have always dreamed of doing, so from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for allowing me to see that look on his face.” She breathed out and stood straight as a warrior. Y/n put her hand on her arm then and said

“You don’t have to thank me for that Iris. He was getting way over himself and it seems that this isn’t something that only happened in regards to me. I am happy that my choice of words satisfied you.”

And she winked at her, while Iris let out a little laugh.

“By the way, you can call me y/n. Titles don’t matter now anyway.”

Iris gave her a smile and brought her left hand towards where y/n’s hand was lying on her arm. And there, she saw a shiny object around her ringfinger and asked before she really could think about it

“You got family?”

And Iris looked towards where y/n was glancing. Maybe y/n shouldn’t have asked, because a sad smile was forming on Iris’ face and she saw tears welling in her eyes.

“I lost my mate in battle two days ago.” and y/n had to close her eyes at that. She felt her heart clench and hurt for this female in front of her. They say losing a mate is the worst kind of pain someone could feel. However, she was painfully reminded of a certain Shadowsinger.

“I am sorry for your loss Iris.” She whispered and Iris only gave her a sharp nod. She let go of her arm and just as she was about to leave Iris asked back.

“Do you .. have family?” And y/n couldn’t hide her gasp, she really wished that she wouldn’t have asked her as well, because everything was still so fresh.

She contemplated telling her about Azriel, and decided she would just do it. She had nothing to lose anymore.

“I.. I have a mate. But our situation is a bit complicated, because.. well he, he is with someone else-“ she heard a gasp and saw how Iris’ eyes widened. Before she could theorize in her head, y/n clarified

“It’s not that we were together before, no. He- he didn’t cheat or something like that. He was already together with the other woman and well.. let’s say the bond just snapped today for us.”

She didn’t know why but shame filled her at that revelation and she looked down on her boots. She didn’t want to delve into too much detail, because she already was feeling that numbing pain creep up on her again.

“That’s brutal. I am so sorry y/n, I wish there would’ve been more time for you.” Iris said with empathy.

And y/n was thankful in that moment to have someone who was compassionate with her, which is what compelled her to bare parts of her soul to her

“Yeah, me too Iris.”

And Iris looked at her with pity as she reached her fingers to her face to wipe the tear off that rolled down her face. She didn’t notice that she has started crying.

“I- well, I just wish that everything turned out differently-” and she was forcing herself to hold back that sob that was creeping up her throat.

She was thankful that Iris embraced her then, because she was sure that she would’ve broken down right then and there.

“Thank you for telling me.” Iris whispered in her hair and squeezed her. Y/n just squeezed back as an answer and relished in the comfort of Iris’ arms for a second.

—————————

Azriel couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t understand why this was happening to him, one moment she was in front of him and now she was gone.

He shook of the hands holding him back, as they loosened their grip on him after y/n winnowed away.

“What the hell were you thinking.”

He spat viciously at Rhysand and Cassian, who still looked at him like they’ve seen a ghost. Because this was so unlike Azriel, unlike the shadowsinger hiding and observing in his silent corner. It was Rhysand who spoke up first

“What the hell has gotten into you Azriel? I understand that you don’t want her to risk her life for us, god, I wish that I have gone instead of her. But I never realized that you.. well that you guys were so close-“

and he dared to shift his gaze towards Elain

“- after you had nearly begged me to be with Elain.“

and Azriel winced and closed his eyes for a moment. Right. They didn’t know. And Elain…how was he supposed to do this now. Sweet Elain, who must be so confused why her lover acted this way for another female.

When he opened his eyes again, he looked up to seek out her gaze, and when he found her doe brown eyes already looking at him, he visibly shook. But one way or another, the truth had to be told and he’d rather want everyone to know at once rather than having to be questioned by every single one of them.

“Y/n is my mate.” and as he heard multiple gasps at once he couldn’t recognize which belonged to whom. But what broke his heart was the look Elain was giving him. Hurt. Betrayal. He didn’t want to do this to her, he didn’t want to be the cause of her pain.

“Brother… I-“ Cassian couldn’t find the right words, and he didn’t blame him because neither could he. This was a fucked up situation.

“And despite that, she … she still decided to go?” Mor asked no one in particular as a frown was appearing on her face.

“Well I … I didn’t really gave her a reason to stay.” he whispered back.

And now she got a bit irritated as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“What do you mean by that?”

But he didn’t need more words to say as realization hit her at once and she suddenly snapped her head towards Elain. She looked at her with such scrutiny, but before she got to say anything to her, Azriel went over Elain to stay protectively in front of her.

“Don’t even think of saying what you are thinking Morrigan.”

And he was serious.

He was not letting her or really any of them make Elain the villain of the story. That is not what she deserved.

“I can’t believe you Azriel. You are standing up for someone you’ve known for what? A couple years?”

She was exasperated as if this was an insult to her dignity.

“While your fucking mate is out there giving up her life?” She cried out.

His heart clenched and he felt like he couldn’t breathe at that thought. But he had to push it down, ignore it as he tried not to think of y/n when he said his next words.

“If you haven’t noticed already Mor, I actually care for Elain-“ and he seeked out Elain’s hand from behind him “-and I am not letting any of you put this blame on her. This is all on me and I-“ he looked around everyone “-I need some time with Elain first. I know all of you feel obligated to have a say in this, but truly, out of everyone, this effects mine and Elain’s life the most. So if you’ll excuse us.”

He didn’t wait for any responses as he took Elain, who still didn’t say a word about all of this, to a tent nearby. He had to get them some privacy for what he was going to do next.

When he pushed open the tent he was met by the sight of some healing supplies and some stretchers. Damnit did he choose a healing tent? He had to be fast so that no one interrupted them.

When he turned towards Elain, she still hasn’t uttered a word. So with his finger, he gently lifted up her chin to look directly into her eyes.

And seeing the hurt glimmering in them broke him, but he knew that he had to do this. In his mind and heart he had already decided, but when seeing how tears were silently streaming down her face it made it way difficult for him to voice out his thoughts.

“Elain…”

She clenched her eyes shut and let out a small cry. He quickly pulled her to his chest.

“I am so sorry my dear. I- I had no control over anything. You have to understand that.”

He whispered in her hair while she clung to him.

The next part, however, was going to be hard for him.

“Elain, look at me please.”

As he pulled away from her he saw her tear stricken face.

“I- I have made a decision for myself.” And Elain looked up at him with wonder, shining eyes glistening from all the tears, lips wobbling from holding back her sob.

“I didn’t expect the bond to snap, ever for me. All my life I had waited for my mate to come, all my life I had wished for my other half to complete me, I had yearned for it that it got to a point where I got obsessed with it.”

He noticed her listening to him attentively while tears were streaming down towards her lips. He wiped them off with his thumb.

“But all that wait could only bring me to a certain point in life. So when I saw how my brothers found their mates back to back, I saw how easy it was for them, to find their mates. A-and it got me thinking that if I was actually destined to have one it should’ve already snapped for me too-“ he whispered the last part and shifted on his feet.

“-so I gave up on it. Gave up on my wishful dream of having a mate. I realized that I did not deserve to have one, because why would others get their mates so easily while I was desperately yearning for one.. you have to understand Elain.. over 400 years I waited for her to arrive,

now imagine what that does with one.”

Elain looked at the ground and sniffed, but still, she stayed silent. So Azriel continued.

“But then you came, and I thought that maybe… maybe I could allow myself to try this with you. And I really did Elain, I fell for you, for your charms and witty words that only I got to see.” He wanted to cup her face, but quickly decided against it.

“I imagined what a future for both of us could look like and I was content with it. But you have to know that.. that there was still quite a hollowness in me.”

He closed his eyes and whispered

“I really tried to ignore it, because I really liked you and I wanted to allow myself a shot at happiness… I was and am happy with you Elain.”

“And I knew that with Lucien being your mate, the bond could never snap between us. So I had to make a decision for myself. If I was okay with accepting a future without a mate. Without the one person I have wanted so desperately for all my life.”

He looked at Elain with despair, he waited for her to say something, to speak out what he was afraid of. But she still refused to speak.

“So when the bond between me and her snapped I- I felt like everything that I had build was crushed again. It was like a slap to my face, a way of the Mother saying that I should’ve never given up, because when I was finally okay with the idea of not having a mate, the Mother offered her to me. Right before she was giving up on her life. As if it was a punishment for my impatience.” and his voice was shaking at that last part.

“I want you to know that I don’t regret ever meeting you, our time together is something I cherish. But I have to stay truthful and be honest with you. And myself.”

And Elain started to cry again as Azriel also felt tears forming in his eyes.

“I know that I cannot continue living when I know that my mate is out there fighting for her life. How could I? When…-“

and he closed his eyes for this next part

“-when she is all I ever wanted in my life.”

He whispered as he heard her gasp. He knew that this admission would hurt her, but he had no other choice.

“So I have to go after her. I decided that for myself. I-.. I need to… because with every minute that she is away, with every minute that she is preparing for her death, a part of my soul is burning along with it.”

And he allowed himself to feel her side of the bond but quickly realized that she had closed it off. It ripped his heart out that it got to this point.

When Elain’s crying still continued, he was begging her at this point to respond to him.

“Please … say something.” He whispered and looked at her with hopeful eyes, he needed her to say something or else his heart would explode from anxiously waiting.

“Please … at least just-“ but he was interrupted by Elain’s timid voice.

“Azriel… I- I need to tell you something.”

And she looked him directly into his eyes.

He held her gaze and waited for her to continue.

But, suddenly the air in the room shifted and he became very much aware of how Elain’s form was shaking.

“I have been keeping something from you, but- but it is eating me alive and I … I just can’t bare its weight anymore.”

Her voice cracked at the last part.

And Azriel suddenly felt a cold shiver run over him, making the hair over his arms stand up.

What could she possibly want to say to him? After he bared his soul to her, after he told her that he would go after his mate.

Could it be… no?

Could she be- but he wasnt able to finish his thought as she continued.

“I am.. I am sorry Azriel. I-��� when I told Rhysand that I saw how this was going to play out, I was only telling half the truth.. I you have to understand that I- I only wanted what’s best for you.”

“I am not following ‘lain what-“

“I saw your future Azriel.”

“Way before this. I-“

she broke off her sentence with another sob

“I saw you happy with her, I saw you with your children. You had a family with her Azriel.”

And the world stood still for him. Suddenly he became aware of his loud thumping heart and his cold fingertips. He heard no sound other than Elain’s heavy breaths and his rising heart rate.

He felt like she had just pushed a knife through his heart and with every word she was saying, the knife went deeper into his heart. What.

“So I-… I.. when I saw the vision of y/n leading the troops.. she actually wasn’t alone. You had decided to go with her.” He felt sick.

“And with that knowledge.. I was selfish, because I didn’t want to lose what we have, I didn’t want to lose you Azriel. I knew that if you had chosen to go with her then… then everything else would have also played out the way I saw it.” And she looked down on her boots, shame filling her.

“So I had to interfere… I had to stop you from going with her, because I saw you were actually about to. And it scared me, and-“

“So you mean to tell me that your interference may have also changed the other part you saw of my future?” he looked dead in her eyes. And she let out a sob and covered her mouth with her hand.

“So the children you saw-“

he felt like he was going to puke

“-oh god Elain-“

and the tears fell out of his eyes

“-you prevented them from ever existing…?” He gave her a horrified look, eyes wide, eyebrows furrowed into a horror stricken frown. It left her gaping at him

“I, I am not so sure about that part, I really don’t know Azriel, I.. am so sorry, I realize that I may have overstepped.. I…-“ but before she could finish Azriel held up a hand to silence her.

“So you willingly risked y/n’s life, knowing that.. knowing that she was my mate and that we’d have children in the future-“

“Az-“

“I am not done Elain!” He said in a sharp tone.

He- he couldn’t believe what he was hearing… couldn’t believe that Elain manipulated his fate. Couldn’t believe that the woman he loved would go this far just to be with him. It made him sick.

“In your vision you saw me fighting alongside her and surviving. So.. now that she went alone.. that also means...”

Elain’s silence was enough answer for him.

He- he was about to go insane. This was too much for him. Children. They had children. And the tears were now falling easily from his eyes as he gripped his hair with his hands.

“How could you… how could you keep this from me.” He tried to say between the cries he let out.

“I am sorry Azriel … I cannot tell you how sorry I am.” And she was crying along with him.

But Azriel ignored her as he tried to control his cries, his breath before he triggered another panic attack… no, he couldn’t afford that now, not now. He had to go after his mate, he- he couldn’t be too late right?

With that thought in mind he pulled himself together and gave Elain one last look. He wanted to say so many things, wanted to scream at her but he reminded himself that his mate may be standing on that battlefield all alone and scared as he was wasting his time with someone who had done nothing but lied to him.

Wordlessly, without sparing her a second glance, he tore out of the tent.

After all, it seemed to Elain, even with her interference, even if he loved her, Azriel still had chosen his mate. It had not mattered that she had played with fate, because in the end it still was y/n that he wanted.

And that thought alone made Elain break down again, alone and cold, in the stillness of the tent.

As Azriel rushed out the tent he felt a soothing sensation on his hands, slowly creeping up his arms and neck. His shadows.. after he got with Elain, they were barely there, only came when he needed them, but now… now they were back. And he felt a sudden burst of strength with that.

He was going to get his mate, whatever the cost.

—————————

As y/n was having a moment to herself, before everything escalated she closed her eyes. She tried to sense everything around her to calm herself. She heard the distant voices of men and women preparing for battle. The wind causing to rustle the leaves on the couple of trees around them.

She looked up with her face and opened her eyes to see the cobalt blue sky over her.

Such beautiful hues of blue, she thought. How she wished she could’ve seen the ocean right now. Heard its crashing waves on the coast. Smelled its salty but fresh scent. How she wished she could sit on the sand and just watch the waves in the distance.

And even if she didn’t want to, she thought of Azriel. Oh, beautiful Azriel. When she closed her eyes again she could just imagine him right before her, looking at her with that smile, slightly crooked and just so Azriel. She imagined his dimple popping up when he smiled, accompanied with his oh so soft gaze that it got her swooning just by imagining. She remembered his gentleness whenever he talked with her and suddenly also remembered his pain filled gaze when he saw her crying because of him.

She remembered him kissing Elain’s hands and, despite the bond snapping, still choosing her. And she thought to herself. She really didn’t held any resentment towards any of them. Not Azriel and not Elain.

Because if y/n had only tried harder before, tried to be straightforward with Azriel way before, everything might’ve turned out differently. But maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, maybe she was only meant to live and die with an unrequited love.

And she didn’t want to think in that way, but the bond snapping for them? It really didn’t make any sense, because what was the point other than breaking her even more and complicating things for Azriel as well.

It must be hard for him too, because even if he loved Elain, his soul was still connected to hers.

And now she just felt guilty, but before she could dwell on it any more, she opened her eyes again and saw in the distance, black dots of what looked like to be Hybern’s army. It was time.

Y/n pulled herself together, sucked in a deep breath and walked towards the building mass of soldiers standing and waiting for her in several rows. Those were a lot of people.. but she knew that in comparison to the enemy they were definitely the minority.

She was going to lead them, they’d stand under her responsibility. So she’d be damned if she didn’t give her best and showed them her determination .

As she walked towards them she felt a chill run down her back, as an unsettling silence settled and every single one of them stared at her with an unwavering gaze.

She stopped where Adonis stood in front of the troops. He threw her a quick glance and muttered in a deep voice

“You better make this right girl.” and turned around to also stay in the same row as the soldiers.

Then, only then, y/n allowed herself to glance over everyone who stood in front of her.

Warriors of all age and sex, color and race, were aligned in multiple rows that stretched out from the far left where Farlan stood until the far right where she saw Iris looking at her. An eerie silence was all that was left, everyone anticipating what she had to say.

She rested her face and made an unwavering expression, as if she wanted to tell them and reassure them of her dependability, her confidence. And then with a loud, powerful but steady voice

“Warriors of Prythian!”

“I am about to announce our final attack against the enemies of our homeland!” And she clenched her jaw.

“We will charge right forward, where-“

and she pointed her finger to her back, right at the spot where Hybern’s army was marching towards them

“-you see the enemy. We will move forward as one unit and hope to be encased by them so that-“

and she heard some gasps at that

“-so that our other troops on the Southern, Western and Northern side, with the High Lords, can charge at them from behind in a surprise attack-“

and slowly but surely she saw realization hit the most of them, as their gazes shifted to uncertainty, fear and shock.

Some of them looked at their base commanders to search their eyes for confirmation, but they didn’t move an inch and continued to emanate the same conviction.

“-and therefore surround them from all sides.”

No one uttered a word and a heavy and oppressive silence settled around them. But then, someone from the rows came forward and dared to ask what everyone else thought

“So you are telling us… to ultimately ride to our own deaths? Am I understanding this right?”

And y/n blinked at the man, not much older than Feyre, and said with a firm tone

“You are absolutely correct.”

And there someone to her right side fell to their knees and emptied their stomach on the stomped grass in front of them.

The male looked at her with absolute horror then, and she wandered her gaze to the others. They didn’t seem to be reacting any differently. Y/n felt the sweat rolling down her spine but she didn’t make any of her nerves visible on her face, as she continued to maintain a certain cold indifference.

“And since we are dying anyway, you are saying… that it is better dying while fighting till our last breaths…?”

And y/n turned to him again and with an unwavering gaze

“Yes I am.”

And with a trembling voice and a small forming smile, while tears were burning his eyes he continued

“..but if we are going to die anyway, it wouldn’t matter what we do, right? … we … we could also just disobey your orders and it wouldn’t mean a thing would it..” and he looked at her with shiny almost hopeful eyes.

“You are absolutely right.”

And his face fell at that as his mouth began shaking.

“Every belief you held dear, every dream, every hope, every fleeting moment of joy…”

“…it all becomes meaningless as you lay dying on the cold, unforgiving battlefield.”

and she pointed towards the enemy once more

“We all die.” She promised no sweet talk but her utmost honesty.

She took a step closer and grabbed the boy by his armor as she told him, loud enough, so that everyone could hear

“Does that mean our lives hold no value? That there was no purpose to our existence?” she asked, her gaze locking with his.

“…And what of our comrades who gave their all on the battlefield? Would you dare say their lives were meaningless as well?”

And he dared to look right back in her eyes. She felt Iris’ tearful gaze on her as she acknowledged her with a courteous nod.

So as y/n pushed him back in his row and turned to everyone else again, she said, with utmost conviction.

“They were not! Their memories stand as a beacon for us all!”

“The brave have fallen—” she said, pacing to the right, her voice steady.

“The broken have fallen—” she continued, stepping to the left, her presence commanding. The unit’s eyes following her, wide with awe.

“Their lives have meaning because we, the living, vow never to forget them!”

Returning to the center, she stood tall, her voice ringing with unwavering assurance as she declared:

“And as we charge toward our inevitable deaths, we trust that those who come after us will honor us the same.”

And she realized that as she continued talking, they were starting to look up, conviction burning in their faces.

“Because my soldiers stand strong and unbroken in the face of this world’s cruelties!”

“So we will charge with utmost honor and pride and sacrifice ourselves as we wished others would’ve done the same for us!”

“Now collect your weapons, as they will serve as your best comrades for what is to come. And fight- not for glory, but for the honor of those who stand beside you and those who will come after!”

For a moment an overwhelming silence fell over the soldiers, their eyes wide as they took in the weight of her words and she almost got anxious that her speech had the complete opposite effect on them as she had intended, but then, as if stirred by some unseen force, a deafening roar exploded from their ranks, shaking the ground beneath them.

As she looked around and saw even Adonis’ gaze filled with awe, y/n knew that she had done the right thing. So she allowed her face to stretch into a little smile as she clenched her hand into a fist, raised it to the sky and screamed along with them.

But that uproar didn’t held on for long as she sensed it before seeing it.

Her heart rate picked up and she felt a calming presence land behind her with a thud that it forced the troops in front of her into silence.

When a mix of a woody and night-mist scent hit her nostrils, her tears were instantly forming in her eyes and gone was her facade of strength.

She didn’t dare turn around even as she heard the approaching steps.

And when the first shadow brushed against her skin she couldn’t hold it anymore and swiftly turned around and-

And there-

In all his glory, his tall posture and composure, he stood in front of her with a crooked smile and gentle eyes as he looked at her, the wind brushing his soft hair back as it exposed more of his beautiful face, clear defined, and a dark tone, making his freckles from the distance almost invisible. And his eyes conveyed so many unspoken words that it almost seemed like they yearned for her, yearned to drink up everything that was her.

With clear determination he strode over to her and y/n’s heart almost leaped out of her chest as she felt his burning gaze on her, on every little movement of her.

When he stopped in front of her, only a breath separating them, y/n still stayed unmoving.

He opened his mouth and she quickly realized how she followed his every move, how she stared at his beautifully tinted lips.

She waited with anticipation to hear his dark velvety voice again, was desperate for his voice to shake her in her core. She let out ragged breaths and almost felt pathetic if it wasn’t for that crooked smile accompanying his voice

“If you keep looking at me like that I am going to lose it in front all of them my love.”

And she wanted to cry, wanted to hit him, scream at him, kiss him, and scold him all at once but settled on just asking him in a small whisper.

“..Why are you here?”

And she looked at him with wide glistening eyes, flustered, as she waited for his response.

And his eyes softened as he looked at her as though she were the very center of his universe.

“Because I realized that a life without you would be an empty existence-“

and her lips started shaking and the first tears were streaming down her eyes

“-because y/n-“

and his shaking hand cupped her right cheek as his thumb wiped off her tears and soothed her skin

“-I’d rather fall on the battlefield, sharing those final moments with you, than face a life where you no longer exist in it.”

————————————

A quick a/n: I am not really satisfied with how this turned out but I hope you’ll forgive my mistakes, as I really tried to rush this because the ideas were floating all in my head and before forgetting them I had to write them down so yeah, I hope this turned out at least a tiny bit like how you imagined <33 & again I appreciate every single one of you, your likes, reblogs and comments 🥺🫶🏼

I don’t know how many parts I’ll do but this is definitely not the end ;)

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[solxamber]

hellooo i just needed to say your writings are like super cute theyre like my bedtime stories atp JHDJJXHS but could i request a little hurt comfort headcanon with adeuce seeing a reader who usually is always very cheerful and upbeat. Theres sometimes theyre anxious and worried but overall reader is seen as someone whos strong emotionally like nothing can bring them down. Until something does get them down with tears rolling down their eyes and theyre desperately trying to hide this side of them that they feel so vulnerable letting others see. How would the boys react to such a situation?

aww thank you <3 i didn't know if you wanted separate or together so you get both!

They react to you breaking down || Ace and Deuce

Ace Trappola

Ace’s immediate reaction would be shock. He’s used to seeing you as a ball of sunshine, someone who shrugs off worries with a laugh or a witty remark. Seeing you cry? That’s uncharted territory for him, and it throws him completely off balance.

“Hey, hey, what’s with the waterworks?” he’d say, trying to keep things light-hearted, even though he’s panicking internally. But when he realizes you’re trying to hide your tears, it hits him like a ton of bricks.

Ace might not be the most emotionally articulate, but he cares deeply. He crouches down to your level, blocking your attempts to turn away from him. “You don’t have to act tough, y’know. It’s okay to be upset. Even you deserve a break from being the strong one all the time.”

He’d sit beside you, offering his sleeve (or maybe a tissue if he can find one) to wipe your tears. “Come on, talk to me. I can be serious… sometimes. I won’t even charge you for my amazing advice!” His humor is his way of trying to comfort you.

Beneath the teasing, he’s surprisingly gentle. He stays close, his presence steady and grounding, and he doesn’t leave your side until you’re ready to face the world again.

Deuce Spade

Deuce would immediately panic at the sight of you crying. “W-What happened?! Did someone hurt you? Who was it? I’ll take care of it!” His first instinct is to go into overprotective mode, even if he has no idea what’s going on yet.

But when he notices you trying to hide your face, his heart aches. He’s always admired how strong and positive you are, but seeing you crumble makes him realize just how much pressure you’ve been under.

“Hey, don’t do that,” he says softly, his voice full of concern. “You don’t have to hide from me. I’m your friend—I want to help.”

Deuce would sit down beside you, his presence calm and reassuring. He might fumble a bit with his words, but his sincerity shines through. “It’s okay to cry. I… I cry too sometimes. It doesn’t make you weak. It just means you’ve been holding a lot in.”

He’d hesitate for a moment before reaching out to gently pat your shoulder or hold your hand, giving you the comfort of physical support. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together. You’re not alone in this.”

Deuce is the type to quietly stay by your side, letting you take the lead in how much you want to share. If words don’t help, he’s content to simply sit there, offering you a safe space to feel what you need to feel.

Together

If Ace and Deuce stumble upon you crying together, they’d play off each other in their own chaotic but heartfelt way.

Ace would try to lighten the mood with jokes or teasing, but Deuce would elbow him and say, “Now’s not the time for that!”

They’d both sit with you, Ace on one side and Deuce on the other, creating a protective little bubble where you feel safe to let it all out.

Ace might gently nudge you with his shoulder and say, “Come on, you don’t have to deal with this alone. You’ve got us, remember?”

Deuce would nod earnestly, adding, “Yeah! Whatever’s bothering you, we’ll help you fix it. Or… or at least listen. We’re here for you.”

Their dynamic would be a mix of Ace’s playful energy and Deuce’s heartfelt sincerity, making you feel both comforted and loved. They’d stick with you until your tears turn into smiles, determined to remind you that you’re never alone with them around.

Masterlist

[tension4mari]

hiii so ive had this idea for a while now but i just dont have the skills to write it myself, its not really a reader x character but more of a maybe actor!reader x the actor of the character if u get me??😭😭

so the idea is actor!reader plays a character that is also played as the love interest/partner of hwang inho (lee byung hun's character) and during their scenes together (in can be like a cute/lovey dovey interaction between their characters or u can also make it a sex scene or both if ur up for it🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️) reader just keeps messing up her lines or having trouble staying in character because she keeps getting flustered/shy by lee byung hun causing them to redo the scene over and over again so him and the whole cast just keeps laughing and teasing her about it😣😣🙏🙏🙏

I got you! NOW. I'm not the best at writing smut ^-^ so bare with me here!

✮⋆˙Paring - Actor!Reader x Actor!Lee Byung-Hun

Summary - Just read 😭-

๋࣭ ⭑⚝Working with Lee Byung-Hun was always hard for you. Seeing his handsome sharp features always had you in a chokehold. You didn't know exactly what it was about him that drawled you in with him. Was it his hair? personality? His amazing acting skills? You just couldn't put your finger on it.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝You were now in the indoor filming set with your crew getting ready to film you and Lee's part of the movie. Your roll was acting as his wife. Finally getting in check you get up and walk over to the set getting ready to film both of you guys part.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝"Ready 'y/n'?" called out one of your supervises "Yeah! All good to go" you said "You got it!" Lee walks onto set and you swear you could feel the wind get knocked out of you. Looking straight in your direction "You're all set 'y/n'?" he says coming closer. "Mhm!' you quickly say, stepping back just a little to create a distance you don't need between the two of you.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝"That's great, let's start" Lee say's "

The sence was simple. All it required was for you to get pulled over from your waist by Lee and get told a few words. See? not so hard, you told yourself.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝"Aright, take one... Go!" the director called out.

Soon enough Lee came towards you, gradually grabbing you from the waist, speaking from his angelic voice, "I've heard what happened while I was at work. Are you alright Mylove?" He says and you can feel your face start to burn up "Yes I'm fine, I wasn't caught in the crossfire fortunately" you Stummer out "Thats wonderful to hear Love, I was worried sick about you" he spills Getting closer to you. This was the part you were supposed to kiss at, and God, were you not ready once he pulls in, face slowly but surely inches from yours Comes in and kisses you.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝You pull back and throw your head to the side, Lee frowns and askes you what's wrong. And all you could do is shake your head and backup "Um uh- nothing, Its nothing!" all of the crew members are staring and starts to crack up. "Y/n, what the hell was that!." you coworker says jokily while dying from laugher, "Hey that's not even funny! You guys are a joke" you defend yourself while covering you face with your hand, Lee hand comes up to yours and pull your hands down so he can see our face "Oh God, and look even her face is burning with red!" Another coworker says laughing "Ughhh! you guys are the worse!" you say while turning away.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝You both ended up having to redo the sence more than 3 times each time you were messing up

๋࣭ ⭑⚝'Im calling in a break" you hear your director say Lee then turns to you "Y/n, I need to speak to you" "oh.. Yeah, um what's up?" "privately" he says. He leads you towards his trailer and open the door so that you can walk in first.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝You both are inside his trailer and he speaks "So. What was al of that about earlier?" "uh..Huh? i have no idea what you're talking about" you mumble looking away. He grabs your chin softly and make you look at him "Don't pay foolish with me. You know exactly what I'm talking about." he says, staring at you daring for you to lie again.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝"I- ok. I admit it. I've got a crush on you Mr. Byung-Hun." "..." it gets quiet for a moment, he's still staring at you. But then he leans forward and kisses you. "Mm, how long? he says while breaking from the kiss looking at you. "Uhm, two years." "Really? two years? why'd you didn't say anything earlier' 'Y/n'"i feel the same way." "Well i can only assume since... you just kissed me." You speak "You got a mouth on you, you know That?" He says grabbing your waist. "Yeah... I do, are you going to do something about that?' "I might just have to." he say

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ "Oh yea?" "Yeah" He says kissing and sucking on your neck gradually. You let out a small moan that has him ushering to get more out of you. He pulls his knee up in between your tights , onto your cunt. "Oh, fuck-, that feels good" you say out of breathe from all of the moaning you've been doing. He pulls his knee down which causes you to frown at the loss of friction. "C'mere" he says pulling you towards the couch.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝"He sits down, pulling his cock from his pants. "Take off those." He says hurriedly wanting to feel you on his cock immediately. You take off your jeans along with your panties in a quick swift.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝You climb ontop of Lee's lap slowly sinking down on his shaft "Fuck- You feel amazing" you only hum in agreement. He then starts moving his hips, throwing his head into the crook of your shoulder.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝"Mmp-i need to feel more of you" he says as he stuffs inch after thick inch into your cunt. "Shit, I don't think I can take anymore-". He lifts up his hips fucking you deep and hard, thrust after thrust.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝"You're doing so good for me. J'-Just take it-,hmhp. I know you can" He mutters against the skin of your neck.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝The way he fucks his way into your tight pussy you thought you saw stars. "M'm close" you spoke , pussy hugging his cock. Ah! shit!" you screamed while arching your back further.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝Lee quickens his thrusts, adjusting to the rhythm. You moan once more, cumming on his cock. He continues to fuck into your hips none stop, He grunts loudly as he cums hardly into you.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ "I want to take you to dinner 'y/n'." Lee spoke softly. "Yeah?" you said turning to look him in the eyes. "This weekend." "I'm up for it!, Can't wait till then" you say laughing

๋࣭ ⭑⚝He thinks you're the most beautiful person he's ever seen when you laugh. "Well, that's settled. We have to get back on set before breaks over. he voices.

Bro- this is so bad I WANNA CRY.

I am also so SORRYYYY this took so long to write. I had to start this over 4 different times 😔 i just cant- UGHHHH

[pretty-little-mind33]

fluff ✿ angst ✮ hurt & comfort ✷ smut (nsfm) ♥︎

main masterlist

disclaimer — i enjoy fandom created harry potter content but i DON'T support j.k rowling in any way!!

~ REQUESTS CLOSED ~

most popular - WILDEST DREAMS ✿ - Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

author's favorite - SAY DON'T GO ✿✮✷ - When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

latest work - THE MANUSCRIPT ✿ - Telling James you're pregnant again is scary.

~ BLURB MASTERLIST ~

~ KINKTOBER 2024 ~

~ SKY'S 3K CELEBRATION ~

~ VALENTINE'S DAY 2025 ~

~ HEADCANONS ~

fem!reader with an abusive ex

fem!reader who is in a relationship with him

fem!reader who is nervous about the gym

fem!reader pulling on his tie

~ FICS ~

James x debutant!reader

KING OF MY HEART ✿ - You and James are friends with benefits until daisies and an incident with one asshole Quidditch player stirs up some hidden (or not-so-hidden) feelings.

MAROON ✿ - James usually doesn't like violence but he'll fight anyone who bad-mouths his girlfriend.

LAVENDER HAZE ♥︎ - Having a thing for your best friend's dad was your dirty little secret. Up until it wasn't so secret anymore.

THIS LOVE ✿ - Sometimes your lovely boyfriend can have a hard time with the word 'no'.

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ✿✷✮ - You've never had your first kiss — well not until you stupidly kiss the boy you've had a crush on since forever, the same boy who happens to be your best friend.

FOOLISH ONE ✮ - James was and would never be yours.

TIMELESS ✿✷ - James wants to take you out to one of his families' fancy parties. However, he underestimates how cruel people can be when someone is different.

ENCHANTED ✿ - Three weeks after his devastating break up with Lily, James wanted Remus and Sirius to bring him to a muggle bar in central London. Prequel to Timeless

SWEETER THAN FICTION ✿ - After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard. Pt. 2 of Enchanted

YOU ARE IN LOVE ✿ - You never realized how much of an idiot your brother's best friend is until he becomes jealous.

GLITCH ♥︎ - You never intended to admit you would fuck James Potter. You hate him. Well, turns out you hate him a little less when he's touching you in ways you'd only dreamed of.

STAY BEAUTIFUL ✿✷- When you overhear some of James's friends comment on your weight, James comforts you.

SANTA BABY ✿ - James wants to make his family's Christmas special.

SNOW ON THE BEACH ✿✷ - When your eleven-year-old son comes home for Christmas break in tears, you and James are instantly worried.

NEW ROMANTICS ✿✷ - When your "friends" play a dangerously stupid prank on you, James is the last person you'd think would help you.

COLD AS YOU ✷✮ - You want your boyfriend's attention again.

I THINK HE KNOWS ♥︎ - Your boyfriend promises to watch over you when you want to get drunk.

BEGIN AGAIN ✿ - James has been persuing you for years and you've never said yes, until now?

END GAME ✿✷ - Playing Quidditch against your secret boyfriend is usually fun…

GOLD RUSH ✿✷✮ - You're a stupid drunk and James Potter is very very bad at dealing with his romantic feelings.

DAYLIGHT ♥︎ - When your boyfriend finds out he didn't make you come, his anger quickly turns into lust.

THE ALCOTT ✮ - You love James but he loves Lily. It's simple until it isn't so simple anymore.

SUBURBAN LEGENDS ✿✷ - James tries to teach you how to ice skate — in the same universe as Dear Reader

SAY DON'T GO ✿✮✷ - When your long-term boyfriend is slipped a love potion—he loses his memory of you.

SO HIGH SCHOOL ✿ - You have a massive crush on James. One you didn't think would ever lead anywhere until a drunken party in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"SLUT!" ♥︎ - Your brother's best friend teaches you pleasures you've never experienced before.

I CAN SEE YOU ✷✿ - James panics when he sees what his boggart is.

COME IN WITH THE RAIN ✷ - You comfort your darling boyfriend after an overwhelming sight at your muggle grandparents' house.

HIGH INFIDELITY ✷ - You'd kept your relationship with James a secret up until you couldn't anymore. Pt. 2 of Lavender Haze

GORGEOUS ♥︎ - You and James stumble upon an ancient book of spells rumored to enhance pleasure.

DEAR READER ✿ - You wait for your boyfriend after his game — In the same universe as Suburban Legends

PAPER RINGS ✿ - James is the best boyfriend while you're sick.

CHRISTMAS TREE FARM ✿ - You and James bake gingerbread cookies.

THE PROPHECY ✮ - A dangerous mission puts James's life at risk. You're consumed by worry and fear as you wait for news of what happened to your husband.

THE MANUSCRIPT ✿ - Telling James you're pregnant again is scary.

[loeh]

Yandere Claude

Wherein you are his brothers fiancee but you we're so kind to him he wants you all to himself ( you'll be like the birth mother of Anastasia)

thank you for requesting! altho, he is a character who i find really complex, still it was fun writing for him! shouldn't have listened to too much skeeter davis lol. Ngl i think i made him too oc

Above and Beyond

Yandere Claude de Alger Obelia x Fem!Reader

Cruelty— perhaps the only thing Claude had ever known. His brother and his fiancée, you, were the only ones left in his life, the few rays of light in his otherwise dark existence.

You had been his first love, and though his feelings for you ran deep, he would never allow them to interfere with his brother’s happiness. But when Claude discovered the affair between his brother and Penelope, his own fiancee, rage consumed him.

Anger was too mild a word for what he felt—he was infuriated. Not at Penelope, but at his brother. How could he betray him and you like this, even after all that had happened? Even after you, the radiant flower of the empire, had remained loyal and devoted?

The realization that his brother had broken that trust for a fleeting affair shattered him. The pieces fell into place—your lifeless eyes, the absence of your once-vibrant spirit, and your subtle hints to Claude to seek a different lady as his fianceee. Everything seemed to make sense.

With newfound clarity, Claude rushed to your palace, only to find it eerily silent, as though no one had ever lived there. His steps quickened, and he made his way to your chambers. The sight that greeted him stole the breath from his chest. There you were, perched on the railing of your balcony. The moonlight kissed your face, casting a glow that made you appear even more ethereal than before. Your hair shimmered in the soft light, creating an almost otherworldly glow. He wanted to capture this moment, to immortalize it for future generations.

But what struck him most was your eyes—those lifeless eyes that made his heart ache. For a long time, he stood there, lost in the beauty and sadness of the scene before him. It was only after several minutes that he gathered the courage to speak the words that had been tormenting him. His voice was a whisper, barely audible against the stillness of the night.

"Why didn’t you tell me earlier?"

"What could you have done? Nothing. You can do nothing. We can do nothing because we are just two powerless pawns in this imperial power play," your voice was eerily calm, as if you'd been waiting for him to hear these words.

Claude’s eyes softened, and he asked quietly, "What if you didn’t have to stay powerless?"

A small sigh escaped your lips, and you took a deep breath. "That would be refreshing," you said, almost wistfully. "Something to hope for. But…" You paused, the weight of your words settling in. "But I’m too tired now, Claude. Too tired to keep living this life as a pawn—getting sold off to the imperial family, and discarded by the man who swore to protect me from all the evils of the world. I’m just… tired."

He could see the effort you were making to hold back tears, and all he could do was gather you into his arms, offering what little comfort he could. But your exhaustion soon took over, and you fainted, collapsing into him, perhaps finding solace in his embrace.

That was when he made his decision. Rebellion. He would fight for you. He would lead a revolt, take down everything that had trapped you both. In a single night, he ended his brother’s life.

The next day, when you learned of your husband’s death at Claude's hands, your heart raced in fear. You feared you were next. In a desperate bid, you reached for the hidden glass vial containing poison—something your mother had given you before you left for the Empire. "Do not let anyone taint your honor," her words echoed in your mind as you stared at the sloshing purple liquid. You could almost feel her presence, urging you to stay strong.

But just as you were about to drink it, Claude burst through the door. Without hesitation, he snatched the vial from your hand and hurled it to the floor. It shattered, the contents spilling onto the ground.

"You're thinking of killing yourself?" His voice was gentle, but his eyes were filled with concern.

"Why?" he asked softly.

"Because I’m finally free," you whispered, your voice heavy with conflict between feelings of sorrow and happiness. "I’ve lost everything. I’ve lost the meaning of my life."

Claude shook his head, his eyes pleading with you. "No."

You looked at him, desperation in your eyes. "Please, let me go. I have nothing left to live for."

"Then marry me," he said, his voice unwavering, though laced with tenderness. "Let me give your life the meaning you’ve lost. Please."

The sweetness of his words, the sincerity in his gaze, reminded you of the boy he once was—the one who had been shorter than you, the one who gave you flowers every day and played with your hair in fascination. The once adorable shy boy as a man was asking you to marry him. His words were tempting, too tempting to resist, and despite the hesitations lingering in your heart, you found yourself nodding, your voice barely a whisper.

"Okay."

You both got married, and over time, began to heal the wounds of your past. The scars weren’t easily erased, but with each passing day, the pieces of your broken selves slowly began to fall into place. It wasn’t a perfect marriage—no, far from it—but it was yours. A chance to begin again, to start fresh from the trauma that had once defined you.

Then came the news. You were pregnant. It felt surreal at first, this new life blossoming within you, a tangible promise of hope. And when your daughter was born, small and fragile, you could see in Claude’s eyes something you hadn’t seen before: pure, unadulterated joy.

He held her in his arms, his fingers trembling slightly as he whispered her name.

“Athanasia,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. The name hung in the air between you like a blessing.

In that moment, you felt a quiet contentment fill you, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in years. Maybe, just maybe, everything could be okay now. You had Claude. You had Athanasia. And though the road ahead was unknown, you were no longer walking it alone.

A little bit something more~

Claude stood in the quiet of the nursery, watching as you rocked Athanasia to sleep in your arms. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft shadows across your face, and for a brief moment, he let himself believe that this—this peaceful scene—was everything he had ever wanted.

He glanced at you, at the way you gently smoothed the baby’s hair, and something in his chest tightened. He had never thought it would come to this—a family.

He wasn’t perfect, and he knew that. He had failed so many times, but standing here, watching you with their daughter, he couldn’t help but feel that he had at least done one thing right. He had chosen this life. He had chosen you. And for the first time in years, he was proud of that choice.

In this moment, all the anger, all the betrayal, seemed like distant memories. There was no more war in his heart. No more need to fight. There was only this—this peaceful, fragile thing that was now his life.

And for the first time in years, Claude allowed himself to believe that he had finally found the one thing he had been searching for all along: peace.

[cryptictongues]

Tiny Dots on an Endless Timeline

pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 28.5k summary: "It’s been a few years since you'd passed, dying in one of the earlier Sentinel raids. He watched you die. He watched you beg and plead for him to get everyone to safety as you used your gift to keep the Sentinel’s away. It’s his last memory of you; a memory that makes these missions harder. But the idea that stopping all of this from happening could save you, could give him more time with you, gave him something he too hasn’t felt in a long time: hope."

warnings: slow burn, angst/smut/fluff, pining, grief, death, panic attacks, intimacy, unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, grinding, making out, overstimulation, aftercare

Author’s Note: In this fic, there is some dialogue from the movie used and lyrics from Roberta Flack's "The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face". I do not own the rights to either and they are only used to help the plot of the story.

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

Abandoned Chinese Temple; Shanxi Province, China; Year 2023

Logan didn’t have any high expectations when it came to missions. He has learned time and time again that every mission in this war creates loss. It seemed like every time they had a chance, that chance was quickly vanquished. He would convince himself for the longest time things will get better. They have to get better. All wars end eventually. It’s just a matter of when and what the casualties will be. But right now, the end is nowhere in sight.

They were safe for now, hiding out in an old temple that has aged and weathered away with the times. Being back with everyone, seeing who is left of them, sits heavy in Logan’s chest. Having people he cared about ripped away like they were nothing, no proper burial or goodbye, aged him like nothing else. While physically he was still in his proper form and shape, mentally he was struggling.

Charles is giving a history lesson on the Sentinels, giving information many of the younger mutants were not fully aware of. Logan is aware of what this is leading up to, a plan Charles and Erik conjured up as a last resort. It’s smart, but even when it seems too good to be true, he must remind himself the same thing: do not have any expectations.

Logan notices Charles is quiet, and everyone’s attention is on Kitty. She had been talking and even though Logan had zoned out for a minute, the look on her face says it all; it’s impossible. 

“You have the most powerful brain in the world professor, but the mind can only stretch so far before it snaps. It would rip you apart. I’m sorry.”

The gears in Logan’s head were turning. He doesn’t quite know the limits of his mutation, especially in regard to traveling back in time. However, he has taken multiple bullets and slashes. He has been through some of the worst experimentation imaginable and his body always recovered. If his body could bear all of that, what’s to say he wouldn’t survive going back a few decades?

It’s not long before everyone agrees that Logan going back was the only solution left. Charles and Erik walk him through what needs to be done the minute he wakes up as his younger self. Patience is what Charles keeps telling him, but of course he knows that will be challenging alone. Not to mention all the bullshit they were doing in the early 70s. Bastards.

“I do apologize, Logan. But I have the utmost faith that you can do this.” Charles chuckles, obviously hearing what Logan called them. 

“There is nothing left to lose.” Logan sighs.

“But there is plenty to gain.” Charles smiles, the hope on his features stronger than it had been in a long time. “To bring our loved ones home. To bring her home.”

Logan sucks in a breath, holding it for a second before releasing slowly. His hand goes to his neckline, pulling the chain from his suit to look at it and there it was. The engagement ring: a symbol of good things to come that will no longer come to fruition. A lifetime that was stripped away from him, a life with you no more. 

It’s been a few years since you’d passed, dying in one of the earlier Sentinel raids. He watched you die. He watched you beg and plead for him to get everyone to safety as you used your gift to keep the Sentinel’s away. It’s his last memory of you; a memory that makes these missions harder. But the idea that stopping all of this from happening could save you, could give him more time with you, gave him something he too hasn’t felt in a long time: hope. 

“It’s good to see that spark in your eyes again, Logan.” Charles says. 

Logan huffs under his breath. “I guess my emotions are starting to show on my sleeve, huh?” 

Charles laughs, before moving on into the other room. “You’ve grown a lot since I’ve first met you, Logan. And I have her to thank.”

Logan looks down with a smile, reminiscing only a little bit. You really were something else.

It isn’t long before he is lying down on the stone table with Kitty explaining everything to him. It all makes sense, but he can’t shake the fact he will be the only one to remember this war: the trauma, the anger, the dread, the grief. Even when this war will have no bearing on the new world he hopes to come back to, he will still live with that pain. 

“Alright, Logan. Calm your mind and think peaceful thoughts. This may sting a little.” He can hear the uneasiness in Kitty’s voice, but he is ready. There is no pain he can’t endure.

He closes his eyes and thinks about the happier times. Some of his fondest memories are of him simply waking up to watch the sun rays glide across your body in the morning. How you would curl more into his chest and mumble words with no connection whatsoever. How you would wake up, kiss his chest and keep going until your lips met his. He would always ask you to use your gift in those moments, wanting to hold you just a little longer before the day started. You were his little piece of heaven.

Even as he feels Kitty’s hands beside his head, he thinks maybe before he wakes up, he’ll dream as his mind travels. He’ll dream of better times and that alone would hold him over during the impending pain. Because what he wouldn’t give to have you in his arms again. That’s all he wants. 

His hand grips onto the ring attached to his dog tags, holding it close as he prepares to enter a different time full of the unpredictable. 

This is for you, baby. I will save you this time.

And with that thought, the hot pain scorches his temples and sets fire to his mind and then he is gone.

The Algonquin Hotel; New York City, NY; Year 1973

Music. Soft, calming music enters his conscience. It greets his mind, carefully shaking him awake. Then there is the sunlight. It is warm against his skin and he can feel it greeting him, telling him it is time to start the day. It all felt too familiar, and he thought he was dreaming. He felt something draped over his neck. It wasn’t heavy but there was a weight to it. He lifted his hand to touch and the moment he felt another hand, he smiled. Yes, I am definitely dreaming because here she is. He brought your dainty hand to his lips, kissing it gently as he intertwined his fingers with yours. 

But the moment is short lived as his other senses kick in. He took one inhale and knew immediately something wasn’t right. He turns to lay flat on his back, and he can’t help but curse under his breath. He feels like he is waking up to the pre-walk of shame as he looks at the woman beside him. He recognizes her, someone he had bodyguarded for a period of time and occasionally let her warm his bed. Well, he let her do a lot more than that. 

If only he had the foresight to have kept it in his pants. 

He sets her arm to her side and attempts to get out of the bed. He feels the water hold him back, and he groans deeply. Whoever invented water beds can fuck off.

He stands to his feet, taking in his surroundings. He recognizes the room and knows he’s in the Algonquin. The room has its signature set up, with its warm tones on the walls and floor, the plant hanging from the ceiling. He’s been in this room before, or at least another copy of it. He sees the mirror between the two windows, and he walks up to see his reflection. 

Holy shit…

He looks the same, but the differences are prominent. The gray that was once at the corners of his hair and beard were gone. His head of hair looked fuller and was back to his original brown state. His body didn’t look much different, but he felt rejuvenated. It looked like his body hadn’t endured much. He looks down further and can’t help but smirk. Heh, still got it.

His sights go to the window, and he peeks through the blinds, only to once again let expletives fall quietly from his lips. He knew it had worked, but seeing Times Square without its vast array of screens made him take a step back. There is a strange emotion forming in his chest, and while he can’t describe it, he can tell it’s good.

“Holy shit,” he mutters in awe, taking in all the minute details. “It worked.”

He feels relief, as well as curiosity as he scans the city in its older form. Charles had said he was a very different man during this time. He wonders what he will be walking into, and how he will prepare for the moment where Charles will think he’s full of shit. 

But his mind drifts as he looks down onto the street, street musicians on the side playing their instruments for spare change. He remembers you telling him that was something you did for a while with empty storage containers and food bins as makeshift drums… right here in the city.

His heart aches at the thought that you are out there somewhere, living your life day by day like nothing was wrong. You had told him you had a bit of a rebellious streak in the 70s, especially when you were playing music with a bunch of punks most nights and living out of a van. It reminded him a lot of himself, how he would have some kind of gig to make money and then go home to his trashy, beat up trailer. 

He always told you how he would have killed to see you in those times, and now that he’s here he’s tempted. Maybe he could leave right now and take a quick peak around the city. He wouldn’t even interact with you. He just wants to see you breathing and alive. He wants to see you living your life to the fullest, even if it pains him to not interfere.

He scoffs at himself, shaking his head and releasing the blind shade. No. He came here to do one thing, and that was to find Charles and Erik. He knows that if he plays his cards right, everything will turn out okay. The mutant population will continue to thrive, his friends will be alive, and you will continue to be by his side. Logan knows good things come to those that wait, so he will wait for you. Even if it fucking sucks to do so.

He goes to put on his pants, deep blue jeans with a big belt buckle, something he wore often. Some things really don’t change, do they?

He finishes covering himself, and the second his belt is strapped into place, he hears the door open. He turns to see three men standing by, talking loudly at the woman to get dressed as they stare him down.

Fuck.

Alleyway off of East 17th Street; New York, NY

“Fuck!”

You shoot up from your van seat, the thumping on the door startling you awake. You groan, holding your head as you blink slowly. You turn and see a cop at your window, signaling for you to roll the glass down. You grab the lever, rotating it slowly before squinting up at the man.

“Ma’am, you cannot park nor sleep here,” he emphasizes, snark laced in his voice. “You need to get moving.”

You see him whip out his ticket book, a quick scribble before he rips it and hands it over to you. 

“What? No warning?” You say defensively. “You gotta understand I was drunk last night. No points for not drinking and driving?”

He looks you up and down, grimacing at your attire. “For cretins like you, absolutely not. Unless you want to dispute the ticket in court, pay the fine.” He turns away, no consideration or anything. 

You scoff as he turns to leave, and you roll your window up quickly. You watch as he walks away, and you bring your hand up, curling your fingers in. Everything slows down before freezing all together, only to then reverse in swift motion. You watch the cop rework his steps as time turns back, and you keep going until you see him drive back from which he came. You continue to let time go, so you’d have enough of it to get the hell out of the alley, before releasing your fingers. Time slows again and then it goes on like nothing has changed. You glance at the ticket, noting he had filled the ticket out prior before to scaring the daylights out of you.

“Fucking pig,” you jeer, crumbling the ticket up and throwing it to the back. 

You start up the van, pulling out of the alley slowly before turning onto the busy street. There was high traffic per usual, people pushing to get to their jobs. You glance at the clock to see it is nine in the morning, and hum at the amount of time you have before your gig tonight. You are tempted to find another place to park, to sleep off the dreadful hangover plaguing your head. You knew taking all those shots the night prior was a terrible idea, but the drinks kept coming after such a good show. It helps too that your mutation keeps everything in check, a fact that makes you grin.

Being able to control time, rhythm and pace come naturally to you. You are always able to keep a perfect tempo and can change it up at your will. While punk music has never been about perfection, it always helps that you can pull everyone back in if things get too out of hand. People tell you you’re a prodigy, but if only they knew. Your bandmates don’t even know, and while you know they would embrace you, you felt it was always better to keep things hidden. Especially since you tend to use your power to save your ass far too often.

You decide to drive to central park, thinking some fresh air would stop your head from pulsing. You make a turn onto 44th Street, wanting to get to the main road for a straight shot to your new location. However, as you drive down, you start to feel strange. Your head was pulsing more, like your mind was trying to break down a door to give you a warning. It becomes borderline painful, and you can’t help but pull over onto the side of the street. 

You put your hazards on, opening the door before getting to the sidewalk. You squat down, dry heaving a little as you work to calm your mind down. You shut your eyes, rubbing your temples to ease the ache. And then as quickly as it came, it stopped. Your eyes open, looking around to see you are in front of the Algonquin. 

What the fuck?

“I must have really outdone myself last night,” you mutter under your breath, standing up fully to get back into the van.

You get in and go to turn the hazards off, but you stop when you notice a man walking out of the hotel. You watch as he walks with purpose, getting into what looks to be a green 1970 Buick LaSabre. Your brain glitches, trying to process something that doesn’t exist. You don’t know him. You’ve never seen the man before. So why is your brain acting like you do?

You watch him drive off with a screech, and you watch until he is no longer in sight. You stare off into the distance for a minute, thinking what the hell just happened. It was new, and it isn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced. The aftermath settles in your chest with a weird sense of longing and it makes you even more confused.

I definitely drank too much last night.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY

Logan knew the peaceful thoughts wouldn’t come easy, but god damn the entire morning has been far from peaceful. 

The altercation at the hotel ended with the three men on the floor, dead or alive he wasn’t sure. He could’ve handled it better, but the shock from seeing his old claws and the excruciating pain from the bullets sent him into a frenzy. He had truly forgotten how painful bullets felt when his bones weren’t covered in metal. 

Driving from New York City to Westchester didn’t help his mood. He’d rather suffer a thousand stab wounds than drive in traffic and deal with dumbass drivers. The only upside was he had time to think about his approach with Charles, and how he was going to convince him that he was serious. He had a pretty good idea of what he needed to say and was feeling confident. As long as there were no obstacles, he could get this done. 

But that all shattered when Hank opened the damn door. He hadn’t even considered his presence, but Hank was a pretty understanding guy. He’d understand, right?

Boy was he wrong. 

He definitely underestimated how strong Hank was, especially after seeing him as a younger man. Their tussle had landed him onto the marble table in the center of the foyer and with Hank roaring at him from the chandelier. It was no surprise that the one person who still lives here came out: Charles.

Logan’s first thought after looking at Charles was how much of a bum he appeared to be. He wasn’t one to judge, but to see his mentor in such rough shape was perplexing. It looked like the optimism he always held so close was far gone, which was made clear when he laughed in Logan’s face.

Charles did say he would need to be patient with him, but fuck he was a pain in the ass. Logan understood, as he wasn’t much better when he arrived at the mansion, but if he was this much of an ass as Charles is now, God help him.

At this moment, he was working answers out of Hank, trying to piece something together that would convince Charles that what he was saying is true. Then he heard footsteps from the stairs.

“I’ll help you. I’ll help you get to Raven.”

Which now leaves them all in Charles’s old office, discussing plans on how to retrieve Erik without getting caught. Erik had explained where he was before Logan got here, but now knowing what he did to get there makes this more complicated. Not that it already wasn’t, but it is for certain that his cell will be guarded to hell and back.

Once again, fucking bastards.

“What resources do we have?” Logan asks, hoping that Charles or Hank know someone with an ability to get them in and out. 

“Well…” Charles draws out. “I may know one person who could do it, but she will need some convincing. If we can find her, that is.” Charles chuckles, his hand rubbing his face in disbelief.

Hank’s eyes go wide. “You don’t mean…”

“She’s the only person that could pull it off, with her mutation and all.” Charles goes to stand, taking a swig of his whiskey in the process.

“Who is she?” Logan asks curiously, the odd mix of dismay and confidence in their tones intriguing. However, the second he hears your name, he freezes. 

“What?” Logan says with uneasiness, something the other two don’t pick up on.

“She was a recruit back when Erik and I were forming a team to fight against Sebastian Shaw.” Charles explains.

“She can control time,” Hank jumps in enthusiastically. “Move it forward, backward, stop it all at once.” 

“She left shortly after Cuba,” Charles takes a drink with that. “She said she didn’t want to be at odds with Erik and I.”

“Is there anyone else we could use?” Logan interjects quickly. The idea of seeing you is oh so tempting, but there is a fear that any sort of interaction with you will tear you away from him. To see you is one thing. To interact with you is another.

“There are mutants that can stop time telepathically, but she can do it all, which is why she is our best bet.” Charles adds, waving his hand like he is explaining something complicated. “The only problem is I have no idea where she went. I haven’t seen or heard from her in over a decade.”

Logan can’t help but scrunch his face, biting the inside of his cheek in contemplation. He knows he can’t let his selfishness get in the way of the lives at stake. If you really are the best bet to get Erik out, then so be it. 

“Fine, but we just use her to get Erik. After that, she is done.”

“Well, we have to find her first.” Charles shrugs. “I can’t use my powers, so we will need to find an alternative.”

“We have a phone book.” Hank suggests, already walking to the stack of books behind the sofa. 

“That is not going to help, but she was in a band around this time right here in New York.” Logan says, looking at Hank as he grabs the phone book. “She was playing gigs most nights in 1973.”

Charles and Hank look at one another, seemingly perplexed by this new knowledge. “How do you know this?” Charles speaks for them both.

“Let’s just say she becomes a protege of sorts for you in the future.” Logan leaves out the rest. This wasn’t the time to get into the details of his relationship. “I know the band name. We can call popular hole in the wall venues around the city to see if her band is playing tonight.”

“I’ll start looking through and making calls,” Hank offers, and sits down at Charles’ desk.

“Let us know if you find anything. The minute we know something, we leave.” Logan says. 

Logan leaves before a response is given and goes outside. The sun is bright, surprisingly not too cold for this time of year. He leans against the old brick, taking out a cigar he magically had in his pocket along with a lighter he had snatched off the desk. He cuts the end with his claw, and lets it sink back in as he puts it to his lips. He goes to light, his hand a little shaky but he eventually gets a good burn going, the taste entering pleasantly into his mouth and lungs.

He puffs out some smoke, sighing at how the events of today have turned. He had made the decision not to see you, and now he is going to have to. It’s a double-edged sword; he gets to see the beautiful woman he fell in love with, while also taking the risk of altering his and your future together. So many what if’s: what if something bad happens to you? What if you all get caught and you get sent to prison? What if you somehow realize you don’t like him in this timeline?

What if you die and he can’t save you again?

That thought alone makes him choke a little, lost in so much thought the smoke overwhelmed him. No, he can’t think like that. There is too much on the line for his emotions to play games. Besides, maybe in the end, regardless of if he ends up miserable, you’d wake up in the future safe.

He just wants everyone he loves safe.

Max’s Kansas City Nightclub; Manhattan, NY. 

Logan has been to many different nightclubs. Having been a bodyguard for hire, these types of places were nothing out of the ordinary. There were plenty of young women he was hired to watch, ones that wanted to rebel a little, that would come to these clubs to have a taste of freedom. They all had the same shit: drugs, alcohol, sex, and bad decisions.

He was starting to feel the latter.

It isn’t that he disagrees with Charles. Your mutation is powerful and would create easy access to Erik’s hold cell. You are the obvious choice. However, he can’t stop debating with himself on if dragging you into this will change the future; one where you and him are never to be. The thought alone makes his stomach turn.

Along with that, just seeing you in the flesh is enough to send him into disarray. Logan is far from a nervous man, but it has felt like an eternity since he’s seen your face. One look at you and he may not be able to hold it together. 

Him and Charles are sitting at the bar, nursing their shitty whisky. It burns the same, and by this time Logan is finishing his fourth glass, waving down the bartender for a fifth.

“Listen,” he hears Charles yell over the loud crowd. “I know you can hold your liquor but you should probably slow down.”

“Trust me, bub,” Logan shoots the fifth round down his throat, swallowing quickly. “You’ll want me as loose as possible for this.”

“What is with you? Is this about her?” Charles nods to the empty stage. “You acted very strange when discussing her today. Were you two close?” 

Logan looks down into his glass, his mouth opening and shutting not knowing what to say. It doesn’t matter, however, because before he can make a decision, drums are starting to beat down heavily. 

“1, 2, 3, 4!”

Drums start bumping, along with guitar and bass chords. The crowd starts running to the back where the stage is located, jumping and vibrating to the music. Logan looks to the stage, and lo and behold there you are on the drum kit. 

Even when you were no longer playing with a group, you played a lot at the mansion. You often taught music classes for students who just wanted to have some fun. It was also your way of releasing some steam. Charles had to soundproof the music room so your constant drum smashing wouldn’t cause a disturbance. 

But here you are, keeping perfect tempo as you keep up your rhythm. Seeing you in your element was so much more than he thought. You were an animal on those drums, totally submerged in your performance. You were smiling, interacting with other band members during each song. Whether it be adding vocals, doing theatrics with your drumsticks, or silly banter, you looked like you were meant to be up there. 

“She’s really good!” Charles yells over the music, and Logan can only nod. He is immersed in you, his nerves gone as he takes you in. He missed you so badly that seeing you again has given him some grace. He needs to be careful, but right now it doesn’t matter. He just wants to enjoy seeing you happy and alive. 

The set goes on for another twenty minutes, the songs short and quick. The crowd was getting more rowdy as the set continued. They were shouting lyrics back, heads rocking and popping as they jumped around. He sees you looking out into the crowd, only for your eyes to meet his own and then to his right. Your eyes went wide, and he turned to see Charles lifting his hand with a small wave. 

“Well, the cats out of the bag.” Charles mutters, not leaving eye contact with you.

Logan sees the shock in your features, and can sense you picking up the tempo slightly. Your bandmates didn’t seem to mind, however, as they picked it up as well and the crowd seemed to love it. The last cord plays, and the crowd cheers.

“We’d like to thank y’all for coming. Goodnight!” The vocalist said before the band walked off the small stage. You, on the other hand, didn’t follow. 

He watched you make your way through the throngs of people. The look on your face is unclear, but the moment you are in front of him, it’s like it’s just you two.

He fully takes you in. You looked about the same, maybe a little younger. You were wearing jeans with holes at the knees, beat up converse, and a white v-neck that revealed your collarbones quite nicely. A black leather jacket, that has seen better days, pulls it all together. There was a sheen of sweat at your temples, creating a shine in the baby hairs. Logan only had two thoughts in his head: that he desperately wishes he could pull you into his embrace and that you looked so sexy like this.

So incredibly sexy.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in.” You smirked, hands on your hips. 

“I must say this is a pleasant surprise.” Charles laughs, standing up from his seat. “It’s so good to see you, darling.”

“It’s good to see you too, and walking for that matter!” You pulled him in, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek. It makes Logan shift slightly, a little jealousy lingering even though there is nothing he could do about it. 

You let Charles go, and you look at Logan, quirking your head as your eyes scan him up and down. He keeps his eyes on you, not budging.

“So Charles, who’s your friend?” 

“Ah, yes, well this here is-“

“Logan.”

Logan’s eyes go wide when your hands shoot to your head, gasping as you grip your head. He reaches out, wanting to do something to ease whatever is going on, but as soon as it starts, it stops.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I must have really overdone it with the drinking last night.” You mumbled.

Logan smirks. “A real party animal, huh?” 

“More like don’t know when to quit,” you sigh. “So, how did you know that I was playing here tonight? Or better yet, how did you even know I was doing this? Keep tabs on me up there?” 

“Actually, Logan mentioned it. He-” Charles starts, but Logan is quick to hit his back, making him double over from the impact.

“What he means is it is a long story, and we should go somewhere else to discuss it.” Logan says with urgency, hoping his tone takes your attention away from how he’s acting.

“Why not talk about it here?” You shrug, going to the bar to order a drink. “The night is still young.”

“This conversation needs to be for your ears only. It is highly confidential.” Charles interjects.

“Hmm,” you don’t look at him, finally getting the bartender’s attention. “Trying to drag me back into some bullshit, Charles?”

“Bullshit that could save everyone’s life, sweetheart.” Logan says. He isn’t used to your slight indifference, but it is something he is going to have to get used to. You are a different person during this time, after all.

You turn back to them, sighing before you lift your hand up, middle finger and thumb pressed together before snapping. Everything stops instantly. Drinks that are being poured freeze. People talking with others go still with mouths open trying to get the next word. The lights stop flickering, some looking to be out while others keep the light. 

Time goes still. Except for the three of them.

His eyes go to look at you, where you are wearing a smug look. 

“My ears only, right?” You say, lifting your drink like you are cheering for something. “So start talking.”

The Pentagon; Arlington, VA

The Pentagon was incredibly crowded, which was to be expected. Tours were taking place. People were rushing to get to their posts. Security was at each corner of the building. There is a lot of commotion, yet you knew this would be a piece of cake. And yet, you couldn’t believe you had agreed to do this. 

When Logan had explained he was from the future, a future where everyone will eventually become slaughtered, it took you aback. It was hard to think about. You knew the U.S. Government has an aversion to mutants, but to create a weapon to wipe them clean with Raven’s DNA? You shouldn’t be surprised, not with everything currently going on, but you are.

The plane ride was fairly quiet. Hank and Charles were in the cockpit, leaving Logan and you in the main lounging area. You had noticed Logan looking at you quite a bit throughout the quick ride. It was like he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. You could’ve sworn you saw something akin to pining in his eyes, but you brushed it off. You didn’t know if it was his way of figuring you out, or if there was something else. 

You wondered if you and him are connected somehow. With the headaches coinciding around Logan, you couldn’t help but wonder if your mutation is doing something new, something it couldn’t do before because you have never met a time traveler. Not until now. 

Maybe you will get answers later. Right now, you have a job to do. 

You are standing in the middle of the Pentagon’s main sector, mentally preparing yourself for this. You would have to hold time for thirty minutes, enough time for Charles and Hank to reach and retrieve Erik from his cell. This only gives them fifteen in and fifteen out.

“Are you sure about this?” You hear Logan say from beside you. “We can find another way if it is going to be too much.”

He sounds so sincere, and it oddly does something for you. Here is a man you don’t know much about caring about your wellbeing. For someone of his apparent nature, it is endearing. 

“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate you caring enough to ask.” You smile at him, and the smile he gives back makes your stomach flutter. Just a little bit. 

“Alright here goes nothing.” You turn to look at Charles and Hank. “The second everything stops, grab an authorized personnel card off of one of the security guards and go quickly.” 

“And you’re sure we are the best people to do this?” Charles mutters, looking torn.

You smirk at him. “Oh, Charles. You may not realize this. but he cares about you. Maybe this is the reunion you need.” 

“I doubt it,” he grumbles but nods at you to go on.

You look forward, hands slightly in front of you before snapping your fingers. It isn’t instant like it usually is. It travels, people coming to a stop before everything is completely still and silent. It takes a lot of focus and precision on your part. You’ve never had to freeze an entire building, let alone one that runs so deep. 

As told, Charles and Hank make quick work, grabbing a card from a guard right by the door they needed to go through. Once the door shut, it was just you and Logan, who had insisted he stay in case something happens.

You sense his eyes on you again, just as he had on the plane. Minutes pass, and you think maybe he will say something, but no. It’s just radio silence. You could handle it on the plane, but right now? Absolutely not.

You roll your eyes at his behavior. “You psychoanalyzing me or something? I can multitask, you know.”

Logan moves so he is facing you, and he is only two steps away from you. You notice he is much taller than you, maybe by a foot. His attire is oddly fitting for someone from the future. The brown leather, the feather pattern on his shirt, and god the big ass belt buckle with blue jeans that fit his legs so nicely. You had to ask.

“So, if you are from the future, I gotta ask: did you come dressed like that?” 

He looks down at what he is wearing, inspecting himself. “What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?”

He looked so self-conscious. It was cute. “Not at all. Just not something I expected someone from the future to wear.”

“Well, technically I am in my younger self’s body. This is how I dressed in 1973.” He chuckles. “I guess I still dressed like this though, before everything went to shit.”

“So, you an old man now or something?” 

He smirks at you. “I’m probably older than your great grandfather, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widen at that statement. “Is that your mutation? Being immortal?”

“Amongst other things,” he holds out his hand, and within a blink of an eye claws are coming out from in between his knuckles. You tilt your head in awe, admiring the bones that are tinted yellow. He then lets them sink back in, the wounds healing instantly.

“Regenerative healing. That’s pretty neat,” you say. “Still must hurt though.”

“Every time,” Logan hums. “But you get used to it.” 

“I see,” you murmur, not knowing what to say after that. Luckily, Logan keeps going.

“You must practice a lot for you to stop time in a place like this.”

You can’t help the chuckle that slips your lips. “I wouldn’t call it practice. I just get myself into stupid situations.”

Logan grins, taking a step closer to you. “Yeah? Like what?”

“Well, a few weeks ago we got into a tussle with the police. They decided to start some shit at another club we were playing at. Gave me a black eye even.” You answered, oddly making light of the memory.

“Bet you still looked just as pretty,” Logan joked, but with the way he was looking at you, you’d think he was being serious.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “But then they started making arrests. That’s when I shifted time back. Warned my bandmates before they came in. They were confused about the black eye though.”

This made Logan laugh, and you swear your heart did a double take. Why was this man affecting me like this?

“I like the idea of you getting a little rough. It’s very different.” Logan purrs, and before you can ask what he means, you feel your powers start to weaken.

“Shit,” you curse, hands clenching in front of you. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You grunt in response, trying to pull yourself together. “How long has it been since they’ve left? Shouldn’t they be back by now?”

“It’s been about thirty minutes,” he confirms. “You are certain time has stopped in this entire building?”

“I’m very certain. I wouldn’t be struggling right now if it weren’t.” You say with gritted teeth, getting lightheaded. “Logan, I told them thirty minutes. If I hold on any longer, I’ll pass out.”

Logan is looking around, searching for something before he takes off in a path you can’t see. You are breathing heavily, trying hard to focus but you can feel yourself slipping. It’s like you are on a cliff holding onto loose rocks waiting for them to slip. 

“Okay look at me, baby.”

Baby?

You look to see he is holding a key card. He holds your attention, nodding to the door Charles and Hank went through. “We are going to walk over to the door. I’m going to open it with this. When I do, let go.” 

“Fuck, what if we get caught?” You whimper, the mental pain starting to get stronger. 

“I won’t let that happen again.” 

Again?

Before you could contemplate his words, he’s got his arm wrapped around your torso. His left hand holds your leather clad wrist, keeping you steady as two start to walk.

“Small steps, small steps. That’s right,” Logan encourages, keeping pace with you as you walk slowly. 

He’s holding you gingerly, like you will break if he lets go. It’s strange but you welcome it. You've never had anyone hold you with such care before. You were rough around the edges. Most people think you can handle anything, but it’s almost as if Logan has done this before; a common feeling you’ve had ever since you laid eyes on him.

He stopped at the door, pulling the keycard from his left pocket and scanning it. The light blinks green and he pushes it, keeping it open with his foot as he looks at you.

“You ready?” 

You nod slightly. “Just tell me when.”

“Now!”

You immediately drop your hands, and Logan is shoving you through the threshold. You gasp holding onto your chest as Logan keeps his grip on you so you don’t fall. You take a deep breath, calming yourself down enough to keep going. 

“We need to get moving. We will get caught if we stay here.”

Logan nods, letting go of you to look at the map beside the door. You miss his touch already.

“We need to get to this elevator,” he points to the elevator in the south wing. “It’ll take us to the kitchen that leads to the lower cell.”

Without another word, you two are running. You put your hands up again, freezing time again but only in the areas you two are passing. It makes your brain fuzzy, but you push on. Logan looks back at you from time to time to check on you, worry evident on his face.

“I’m fine, keep going!” You press. 

Before you two know it, you are both at the elevator. Logan is clicking the button repeatedly like it’ll come faster, and within a few seconds it opens. You both rush in there, and Logan repeats his treatment to the closing button before the doors ultimately close. 

You lean against the metal wall, taking a deep breath and praying to whatever God is listening that no one gets on this damn elevator. You don’t know if you have it in you to protect you and Logan if someone gets on. 

Luck was on your side, however. The elevator dinged, and when you looked up you saw it was listed as the floor you were getting off on. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, but it gets sucked back into your throat when you hear alarms. The elevator doors open and a multitude of men with chef kitchen attire run in completely drenched. 

Before either of you get crushed by the masses, you grab Logan’s hand and yank him out. You hear more commotion coming from down the hall, yelling and crashing. You walk past Logan, jogging towards the noise. You make it to the door, hearing the voices loud and clear, and you bust in to see the insanity. 

The kitchen was a wreck. The water is still coming as the alarm blares on. You see Hank trying to pull Charles off of Erik, but he won’t budge. Everything is a mess, and something about it sends you spiraling.

“Oh fuck no!”

You are hurling yourself at these men. You grab Charles’s jacket, and with the help of Hank yank him off of Erik. Hank flies to the floor, and you slam Charles to the wall. He looks so pitiful, and it makes you sick.

“I said thirty fucking minutes,” you seethe. “My power has limits, and this is the reason you all pushed them today? Because you couldn’t help yourself?”

Charles is silent, looking at you with complete guilt. Good, you think. He should feel fucking guilty.

“I could have passed out. You are so lucky I had Logan, or your ass would be going to prison.”

You let go of him, shoving him more into the wall as a warning, and turn to the other two knuckleheads. Hank and Erik are standing, looking at you in shock. They are really about to be in shock, however, because you weren’t done.

“You,” you pointed at Hank. “I know you hate your mutation, but your self-hatred almost fucked us all. I know you aren’t that fucking weak, especially to pull his scrawny ass off of that dumbass.”

“Well, it’s good to see you too-” you hear Erik start. You don’t let him finish.

“And you,” you shout, walking up to him and gripping the white prison uniform at the collars. “I know you are probably very shocked to see all of us. However, and understand this clearly, you do as we say. I am not about to have my future or anyone else’s fucked up because of you. You hear me?” 

Erik smirks at you. “Yes, ma’am.” God, you wish you could wipe that look off his face.

You huff, shoving him away from you. “Let’s get out before we get caught.” 

“It might be too late for that.” You hear Charles say, and you turn to see five Pentagon security members, plastic guns drawn.

“Charles,” Erik calls out. “Do something, Charles.”

“I can’t,” Charles says under his breath.

“Hands up or we will shoot!” One of the security officers yells, their fingers right on the trigger.

You groan at how worthless everyone is acting, and using your anger, you snap your fingers and immediately clench your fists. The cops freeze in place, and you are panting as your muscles suck up all the oxygen in your body.

“Someone better knock them out before I give out and-“ you are cut off by the sound of a pan connecting to skulls. 

Logan was knocking these men out with ease, his strength apparent as the metal clangs. He is moving like a natural, arm swinging precisely to hit each man standing. It was captivating and watching him breathing in and out in his drenched clothes was very hot. You could feel your underwear start to cling to you, and you knew it wasn’t just from the water coming from the sprinklers.

You let go, hands going to your knees as you catch your breath once again. Logan is immediately by your side.

“Let’s get out of here,” Logan commands, and he wraps his arms around your torso to sit you straight up.

“I got you, sweetheart. Just hold onto me,” Logan says in a low tone, like talking any louder would disturb the already broken peace.

Without a word, you grip onto him and you two walk out of the kitchen to the elevator. The others are waiting for you two, keeping the elevator open and soon enough you are all in. 

It’s amazing to you that you all made it out. Charles was smart enough to know to go through a back exit, and luckily Erik was able to move the cameras to face a different direction. It was as if none of you were ever there, other than the fact those security officers saw you. You’re hoping Logan hit them hard enough for them to forget.

Charles had parked the rental car close by, shoving yourselves in before going off onto the road. You are in the middle in the backseat, with Logan still holding you close. Erik was to you right, working to put on the jacket and hat Charles had brought to make him less recognizable. 

Well, less recognizable to fucking idiots maybe.

“Alright, where to now?” Erik asks, still trying to get the jacket on in the packed backseat.

“We need to get her home.” Logan replies.

“What?!” You shout, feeling complete disbelief. “Why am I going home?!”

“Listen, thank you for your help. But this is dangerous, and you shouldn’t get mixed up in it.” Logan continues, his tone a lot more serious than it has been today. 

“I just fucking infiltrated the Pentagon and now you are worried about dragging me into this mess?” 

Logan is quiet, and you only get more pissed off. Who the hell does he think he is? 

You push his arm off of you, twisting your body so you are looking directly at him. “I don’t know if you noticed, but if I weren’t there today, you all would’ve been fucked. I care about what happens, and y’all need me. So, I apologize but I’m fucking coming.”

Logan’s shoulders drooped, his hand going to rub his face. He breathes out, as if he’s trying to calm himself down, before turning to look out the window.

“Fine.”

“Good, so we are in agreement.” You say, before laying back against the middle cushion. 

You let your eyes close as the sounds of the cars and bumps of the road lull you to rest. The chill from the water sets in, and subconsciously you find yourself wishing those strong, warm arms that had held you so much today would wrap around you once more.

The Atlantic Ocean

Fucking bastards.

Logan doesn’t understand how Charles and Erik were ever friends. Imagining them as anything but seemed easier. Maybe it’s the full rage of testosterone in their younger bodies. It would explain the extreme yelling, bickering, anger, grief. He understands the need to release all of that, but he already hates flying. Getting the man who can control metal upset isn’t a great idea in an aircraft. 

Things eventually calm down, but what’s left is now a mess of broken glass and ceramic. Charles exits the lounge to go to the cockpit, and at the angle Logan is at he can see Charles with his head in his hands. He feels bad truthfully, seeing him so broken down and beaten up isn’t easy. It reminds him a lot of himself. Looking at Erik, who looks like he hadn’t been in a prison for almost a decade, irritates him slightly. But what irritates him more is that he almost crashed the fucking plane.

“So, you were always an asshole.” 

As if on cue, he hears the door to the backroom open and you walk out. You are rubbing your eyes, holding onto the wall as your eyes double take on the view. 

“Looks like I missed something eventful,” you yawn, walking over to start picking up broken glass.

“Hey, don’t do that. Let him do it,” Logan says, pulling a cigar out and putting it under the lighter’s flame. “He did this. Let him pick this shit up.”

Erik puts his hand up, letting you know he’s got it. As he starts cleaning up, Logan watches you carefully walk over to sit across the table from him. You lean across it, crossing your arms as you leave your eyes on him. “Give him a break. He’s been through a lot.”

Logan looks your way, taking another puff of his cigar. “Yeah, and he could’ve killed us.”

You shrug, leaning back into the seat while keeping eye contact. “Couldn’t have been that bad. I woke up to the plane flying smoothly.”

Logan takes another puff, a grin wanting to desperately pull onto his lips. Still a heavy sleeper.

“I think you just sleep like the dead,” Logan jokes, leaning forward with his elbows settling on the table.

“I guess.” Your head turned to the window, eyes closing and opening in slow succession. “But seriously, what did we expect? They may have similar ideals for mutant kind, but they are different sides of the same coin. I’m sure seeing one another after a whole decade makes it hard to keep everything bottled up.”

Logan nods in agreement because he can relate. When he saw you for the first time after what felt like a lifetime, it took everything in him not to pull you in. Even now, watching you as the light reflects on your face, he wishes he could seat you in his lap like he would after a long day of training. Having his arms around you as you curled into his side, feeling your warmth against him, made everyday worth living. 

There was some reprieve when he was helping you after you stretched your powers to your limits, but he longs for you. He longs for your body, your kisses, your comfort, your love. He longs to show you how much you mean to him, to tell you he loves you. It is too much sometimes, especially in the kitchen at the Pentagon. Seeing how aggressive you were and smelling your scent change to something of want is making everything so much harder. He was already so worked up, he could have easily snapped, but he didn’t and it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad. 

There is a part of him that wishes you weren’t here, so he could finally focus, but in reality he is thankful you chose to stay. He knows it is for selfish reasons, but at the same time he knew they’d be lost without you. You give him the strength to keep going; the strength to push forward, even when it’s painful to keep everything he wants to do and say inside. So, he gets it. He gets it so much.

Logan notices you looking at him, and realizes he was staring. He coughs, trying to hide his embarrassment as he puts the cigar to his lips. 

“So, is that why you didn’t join either of them after Cuba?” 

Your smile is small, like you were reminiscing. “Both had very good points, and it makes sense why they believe the way that they do. Charles tends to see the best in people and Erik sees the worst.”

“So, you couldn’t pick a side?”

“I was only seventeen at the time,” you say. “I wasn’t about to let two grown men tell me what to do, and I’m glad I didn’t. I’m not their keeper.” 

“Smart girl.”

You laugh at this, and it feels like dopamine is being injected into his brain. This is the first time he has felt… Joy? Happiness? He could listen to it for days.

“You said they sent you here together. Do they actually become friends again?”

Logan sends a small smile your way, but shakes his head. “It’s complicated.” And it really is. Logan is sure that if the Sentinel’s never came to be, they would still be at some sort of odds against each other. “Like you said, same coin, different sides.”

“I see,” you start to tap your fingers against the table, a nervous habit Logan had picked up on when you two met the first time. “Since we are talking, you never answered my question.”

Logan lifts an eyebrow in confusion, not realizing anything was asked. 

“The other night at Max’s. Charles said you knew where to find me. How did you know?”

Logan only hums, taping his cigar to let the ash pool into the crystal tray. He feels like revealing anything about the future is a bad omen, but his restraint is wearing thin, and he can’t help but relent.

“You told me.”

“So, we know each other in the future?”

Oh, you don’t even know the half of it, sweetheart.

“We do,” Logan breathes out. 

You leaned in closer, your jaw in your hands. “Are we friends?”

Not quite. “Sure, yeah. We’re friends.”

“Are we close?” You are smiling big, teeth showing. He missed that smile. 

“Very close,” he leans in towards you, faces a few inches apart. “So close that I know everything about you.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes flash. “Like what?”

“Ask me something.” He is feeling cocky now.

“Okay,” you draw out, looking around as you contemplate, before your eyes shine back at him. “What’s my favorite band?” 

“They don’t exist yet. Not for another couple of decades.”

“What? Really?” You gasped.

“The genre doesn’t even exist yet,” Logan grinned, seeing you surprised going right to his head. “But right now, it would probably be Velvet Underground.” 

“Wow, you’re good.” You compliment. “Okay, how about my favorite color?”

“Really?”

“Should be easy if you know me so well.”

Logan vibrates, loving the back and forth happening between the two of you. “It’s blue. Dark blue especially because you love how the sky looks after the sun has set.”

You look down, and Logan wasn’t having any of that, lifting your chin with one finger. He moves forward just an inch more. “You’re going to have to ask something a little harder, sweetheart.”

You shy away from him, still staying close, a rush of pink added to your cheeks. Fuck, you are so beautiful. 

“Okay, well,” you say, still looking away from him. “There is something else I can do with my mutation. What is it that I can do?”

Logan knows this answer far too well. It’s the only reason he was able to be with you as he is, even though he truly believes he would’ve fallen in love with you regardless.

“You can stop yourself from aging.” Logan whispers, not wanting the others to hear. “You use time to stop the clock in your body. You did it for a year after Cuba to try and gain back the time that was lost.”

“I wanted to finish high school, as crazy as that sounds.” You chuckle.

“More like you wanted to continue doing marching band,” Logan says, laughing as you smack his arm. 

“Oh God, you must really know me if you know that!” You cackle. “I started aging again after I graduated though.”

“Why is that? Didn’t want to stay seventeen forever?” Logan tries to make light of it, but he knows why. He always knows why.

“Well,” you paused, leaning back into your seat with your hands still on the table. “The war in Vietnam got worse. There were a lot of boys I went to school with that got drafted, and they didn’t make it. If they did, they came back completely altered. Made me realize this isn’t a world worth living in for too long, I guess.”

“I get the feeling,” Logan responds, to which part he isn’t sure.

“And now that I know that the future's so bleaker, is there really a reason to want to keep living for longer than you need to?” You were looking at him so genuinely, and it broke his heart. 

He sets his cigar down in the tray and goes to take your hands into his with a squeeze. He looks right at you, hoping what he’s conveying reaches your ears with sincerity and hope. “We can change that tomorrow, and when we do, you will have a reason to keep going.” 

The conversation continues for a while, going back to answering questions for you and seeing your face light up when he guesses correctly, and he does every single time. It’s dark out now, the new day counting down to start. Logan can feel himself getting tired, but you? You were dozing off fast with your head against the plane's wall. 

“Hey,” Logan reaches over the table, shaking your shoulder. “You should go lay down. We have a long day tomorrow.”

You yawn, stretching your limbs before blinking a few times. “Are you sure? I slept in for most of the day. You should take it.”

“I insist. Besides, I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in here with these bozos.” Logan looks in the direction of Erik and Charles, one sleeping in the chair and the other sprawled on the couch.

“I suppose you’re right, but will you be okay?” 

“I’m used to sleeping wherever, so this is nothing. Please, get some sleep.”

Logan watches you get up from your seat, walking over to him before leaning down to his ear. “Goodnight, Logan. Sweet dreams.”

He feels your lips against his cheek, and he inhales sharply. He turns to watch you go into the backroom, and after a long few seconds he releases in an exhale. He puts his head in his hands, rubbing his temples in some poor attempt to calm himself, but his thoughts run fast and there is no stopping them.

He can feel himself close to snapping. It’s like everything you do is calling him in, daring him to do something. He knows it is insane. You don’t know him. If he were to do something, confess everything, what would that do for the future? Everything he says and does can change what the future holds, and a selfish part of him doesn’t care. When it comes to you, he is a selfish bastard.

He leans back in his seat, closing his eyes. Tomorrow is the day things will be set right. When that happens, maybe he will wake up to a world where you are still there. He just needs to hold on a little longer.

Hotel Majestic; Paris, France; Day of the Paris Peace Accords

Getting into the hotel was surprisingly easy. You thought security would’ve been on a high alert, but it was oddly empty. Everyone is able to walk around freely without worry, yet you are still on edge. 

You don’t know why, but you’ve had an uneasy feeling ever since the plane landed. You keep relaying it back to nerves, but you know you are lying to yourself. Something isn’t right, and the lack of security here is only making you feel worse.

“Not much security here for a big event like today,” Logan says.

“It’s still a hotel. Anyone can still stay here.” Charles responds. “We still need to be careful though. Stay alert.”

You all make it to the staircase, and you see a map of the hotel. You point to the eastern wing, seeing how the third floor has a section for conference rooms. “Their meeting is most likely happening somewhere here.”

“Okay, let’s get there quick. We are running out of time.” Logan says urgently, and with that everyone is running up the stairs.

Logan is ahead of everyone, and you take notice how much his demeanor changed. He is ultra-focused, his mind only on one thing, and you can’t blame him. You’re sure he is under an insane amount of pressure to ensure he pulls through given the future circumstances. However, you’ve taken notice of how he keeps glancing at you with every chance he gets and it makes you wonder if there isn’t something else going on in that head of his.

Before you can ponder more on it, you hear yelling. You hear things moving harshly and what sounds like bodies hitting the floor. You all take a turn and see a flood of Vietnamese, Russian, and American military personnel running out of a room you can only assume is where your target is: Raven.

You all enter the room, and everything happens so quickly. Raven’s body hits the table, Charles is at her side, and Erik takes the tasers that latched to her body and gets them onto the man to the right of the table.

You hear a rapid beeping and to your left you see a man holding a device, red lines blaring as it goes off. You realize it is Trask, recognizing him from the papers.

You walk up, and before he can probably comprehend what is happening, you snatch the device from his hand. “I’ll take this”

You aren’t scared of him but you back away slowly, ensuring he cannot do anything behind your back. You hear another thump, and turn to see Logan against the wall breathing heavy with eyes screwed tight.

“Logan,” you speak up, walking towards him, but with a few steps in you feel a rush of pain to your head.

You collapse onto the floor, hands holding your head as you start to shake. The pain is sharp and static, forming at the base of your neck and wrapping around your head suffocatingly. You can hear someone calling your name, but it sounds distant. 

“Erik…” you hear the fear in Raven’s voice, and with all you can muster you look to see Erik holding a gun. The same one Raven had to kill Trask, now pointed at her head.

Your brain isn’t comprehending anything Erik is saying, but his face is stone cold. Any hope that you were missing something was lost because you knew what he was going to do. It doesn’t take a clear head to see that.

You try to put your hand up, attempting to stop Erik in his tracks. The second your fingers touch his ankle, he kicks it off and places his foot on your wrist. You moan in pain, his weight pressing down enough to bruise.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I’m afraid you are out of commission.” Erik says calmly without taking a peep at you.

Everything happens in slow motion. The pressure is off your wrist, a gun shot sounds, and glass shatters. Your vision is blurry, your head feeling as if it’ll pop off. The people in your vision blur together like paint bleeding in water. Voices are muddled and slow, but loud. You are in agony, and you just want everything to stop.

You start to hear more noise from the other side of the room, and you see Logan’s blurred silhouette on the floor with his back against the wall. His hands clenched in his lap with claws out, breathing rapidly like someone would when they are having a panic attack. You grunt, pushing yourself up on your hands and knees with your jaw clenching tightly as the pain spikes. You crawl towards him with intent, and all you can think is Logan helped you when you were growing weak. He needs someone, and you will help him. Even if it fucking kills you. 

“Logan, please say something,” you grit through your teeth, biting back against the strong pulse in your head.

He is unresponsive, and your own panic rises. You both can’t be down, not now. The fate of the world is happening at this very moment, and you aren’t going to let this new ailment weaken you. You grab his left hand, being careful not to freak him out, and quickly change to have a grip on his wrists. You position yourself so you’re hovering over him, knees on either side of his thighs. His eyes are closed shut, his head shaking. It seemed like he was having a nightmare while still being awake.

“Logan, can you hear me?” You say with fast breaths, your head only getting worse, but still there is no response.

Fuck, I have to do something. 

You decide to think fast. Maybe, just maybe, you can stop his internal clock, keeping him in place until you can figure out how to get him out of this. You are a little afraid to do it in his current state, not knowing if he will react before everything settles in, but you have no choice. Not unless you want him to cave in on himself. You will stay in pain if it means helping him.

“I got you, Logan. I got you,” you whisper with a tremor and put your hands to his temples, letting your power weasel its way through his mind. Your head clears instantaneously, the throbbing ebb dissipating, causing a sigh of relief to wash over you. However, that relief takes a turn into something startling.

You aren’t sure what’s happening. Logan wasn’t freezing like you were anticipating, but something else was occurring. Your power feels different, like it was searching for something. Whatever you were doing, it seemed to be working. His breathing had slowed down, his claws retracted, and his body became lax against the wall. 

The oddest part of all of this though is that you can see everything. It’s like your mind has become a VCR, and a VHS tape of his best memories has been inserted. It’s kind of nice to witness, seeing that even with all he’s gone through, things got better. However, the next thing you see makes your heart stop.

Everything is subdued, but you can tell he is outside on the lawn of Charles’s mansion. It’s bright out, and you see trees. You see young children running around playing, some using their mutations to get the upper hand in their games. And then he shifts, his eyes going to his side to see a figure beside him. His hand reaches out to them and the image clears. 

It’s you. Holy shit, it’s you!

You looked older. Not by much but maybe by a few years. The way you’re presented is more mature, but still has that edge. You honestly liked it, and liked the idea of who you would become.

His hand goes to your face, stroking the skin of your cheek and you watch as both of your hands go to the one lingering. You pressed a kiss to his palm, eyes closing and staying that way until you open them and pull your lips away.

“I didn’t know you had come home.” You said, but it was playful. 

“Got back early this morning. Didn’t want to wake you.”

“You can always wake me up, Logan. I missed you so much.” 

“You have no idea how much I missed you, sweetheart.”

You watch his arms pull you in, but before you watch it happen your mind forces itself away. You feel tears dotting your face. And from the looks of it, Logan had tears on his face too. 

What was all that?

“Is he okay?” You hear Charles coming from behind you, a slight edge to his voice.

“I-I got him,” you stutter, shock still in your system. “You and Hank stop Erik.”

There’s no response except for feet pacing away and out the door. You look around and see everyone is gone, most likely getting out during the chaos. You hear a grunt, and turn to see Logan’s eyebrows scrunched up. His lips are quivering, and he is starting to shake again. When you see more teardrops form, you let go of him.

“Shit, I overdid it,” you say under your breath, even though you have zero clue on what you did.

His eyes shoot open, causing you to almost jump off of him if it weren’t for him pulling you back to him. His hands are on your face, thumbs pressing into your cheeks like he doesn’t know if you are really here or not. He says your name softly, a hint of disbelief in his tone.

“Logan, are you okay?” You say, hands going to his wrists to steady yourself. In that instance he pulls you in, gripping you tightly in his hold and rocking back and forth with you. 

“Oh God, you’re alive. Fuck I thought I lost you.” You hear the pain in his voice, but it confuses you.

“Logan, I’m right here. I’m okay,” you reassure, arms wrapping around his head. You try to comfort him, but he just grips you harder. 

“I’m sorry,” he says but it’s muffled with his face buried in your neck. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

There is a dampness from his tears, along with the feel of his lips on your skin. His kisses are bruising, like he is trying to convince himself. You, on the other hand, are experiencing so much. You don’t know Logan, but it is very apparent he knows you. He says you two were close friends, but the more he continues to kiss your neck, the more you think there is something else he isn’t telling you. You can take a pretty good guess to what that is.

You are starting to think you’re going to be in this position forever, until you hear footsteps enter the room. 

“We need to get ou-“ you can hear that it’s Charles. “What’s going on?”

Your mouth opens to say something but shuts when nothing comes out. You don’t know what to say and you don’t want to say anything that may set Logan into another fit of unrest. 

“Charles, go pull the car around discreetly. Make sure you have Hank. We will be down shortly.” 

Once again, Charles leaves with no response. You turn your attention back to Logan, who is still weeping against you. You keep holding him tightly, thinking about how you are going to get him up to leave. As luck would have it, however, it is like something snaps back inside him because next thing you know you are being pushed away.

“What are you doing?” 

You quickly hop off of him, standing up in the process to provide some distance. You observe him, and see the shift back to how he was before he started to spiral. Still, there is something wild in his eyes, and you have yet to determine if that’s a good or a bad sign.

“Oh thank God,” you sigh in relief. “You had me worried for a second.”

He groans, rubbing his head as he gets his bearings. You should wait to ask; you really should. But you need to know what he saw, and more specifically if he saw what you had seen.

“What happened? What did you see?” 

“I saw someone that is going to bring me a lot of pain one day.” Logan looks to the side, and you follow his gaze to where that military man once was. 

“I also saw…” he starts, only to look around and notice you two are the only ones in there. “Where is everyone? Where’s Raven?”

“She’s… she’s gone.”

“What?” His head snaps to you, eyes blown wide.

You look down, a sigh leaving your lips at today’s turn of events. You feel the room shift, a tension building that feels foreign to you. You feel guilty, even though you know you shouldn’t, but you feel like you’ve failed him. He is here to fix things, and now no one has a clue if what happened will make things better or worse. From how he is reacting, it can only be the latter. 

“We need to leave.” Logan mutters, already walking towards the exit. “Let’s go.”

He isn’t looking at you but waits for you to move. You nod, even though there is no recognition to come, and you walk ahead with him trailing behind you.

Yep, definitely the latter.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY

The trip back felt like it had taken years off your lifespan, the stress that had surrounded the jet almost unbearable. Everyone had feelings of failure and guilt, as it took no telepath to see that, but what made things worse was how much Logan was distancing himself.

You had thought after what happened you would get to know more, but there was none of that, not even a word. It’s like you had burned him with the way he kept his distance. Even on the jet, a space with little room, he stayed far. You had purposely moved closer, and he made an excuse to get up only to sit at the opposite end of the jet. It upset you, and you hate that it did. You shouldn’t feel anything about him, yet after that stupid memory you saw, you do. How could you not?

You didn’t realize it at the time, but feeling how far he is from you makes your body ache in a way that’s unfamiliar. The way your body had felt against his, how solid he was, had you yearning. The way he had held you like you were the most precious thing he possessed had you wanting. If you are interpreting his memory correctly, then why is he holding you from such a distance?

Does he feel like it would be cheating? You know that’s you but that isn’t you now. You are different but how different? Different enough to warrant him to see you as a completely different person?

To be fair, you don’t know his past or even his future, but your heart is starting to want to go where he is. It’s like there is a red string connected between you two that stretches far and wide. You can’t help but think you harbor these feelings because no matter what, you were destined to be with him and he was destined for you. Nothing can cut that string, but it can stretch tightly and that string is losing its thread.

Currently, you are sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting for someone to come out of Charles’s room. Logan and Hank had taken him there, his legs having given out and his mind going off the rails as the effects of his medicine wear off. You chose to distance yourself so as to not overcrowd.

You could hear them talking, sometimes with voices raising and then going soft again. You couldn’t make out what they were discussing, only hearing certain words that have no meaning without context. It isn’t until you hear the door click open that you stand, seeing Hank leaving the room quickly followed by Logan. 

“Is he okay?” You ask, watching Hank come towards you fast.

“He’s going to try and find Raven using Cerebro.” He says walking fast past you down the stairs. “Getting his wheelchair!”

Logan follows him, not glancing at you or saying a word causing you to frown. You are hot on his heels, having more questions desperate for answers.

“Logan, is he going to be alright?” 

“Yep, just fine. Hank and I will be right beside him.” Logan says curtly, walking towards Charles’s old office.

“What about me?” You ask, but it falls on deaf ears as he starts to look for something.

“Logan.” You were starting to get frustrated. What the fuck is his problem?

He finally finds what he’s looking for, and you see him slam a phone book onto the desk. He is flipping through it just a touch too aggressive, pages cringing as he flips the pages. He then stops and puts his finger down on a number before picking up the phone and clocking in the digits.

“Seriously, Logan. Who could you possibly be calling?” You ask him, only to get fucking pissed at his next few words.

“I need a cab for 1407 Graymalkin Lane-”

“What the hell are you doing?!” You storm towards him, getting more irritated by the second.

“Calling you a taxi. You are going home.” Logan growls out, about to continue speaking before you snatch the phone from him and slam it back down. 

“Like hell I am!” You yell. “Just as I told you a couple days ago, I am not going anywhere. You all need me.” 

He slams his hands down against the table, making you jump back. “Listen here, princess. I don’t care how much you think we need you because it doesn’t fucking matter. We need to focus. I need to focus. I cannot do that with you here, so you are going to take a cab back to New York City. Do you understand?”

The daggers in his eyes are sharp, trying to make you give in to his demands. You know better and you can see right through him. “Is this about what happened in Paris?”

He scoffs, turning away from you to walk away. “It was nothing you need to worry about. Just saw someone that is going to make my life hell. I am fine.”

“That isn’t what I am talking about. When I was trying to calm you down, I saw something.” You say, and it stops him in his tracks.

“What do you mean you saw something?” He turns, facing you. “What could you have possibly seen?” 

“I was trying to stop your panic attack by stopping the conception of time in your brain, but I did something else. Something I didn’t know I could do.” You explain, and his face softens from anger to confusion.

“I think I somehow moved your consciousness forward in time,” you continued. “I was able to see where I was moving it. It was how I was able to get you to settle down.”

He is in front of you instantly, hands on your shoulders in a tight grip. “What did you see?”

“I saw myself through your eyes.” You breathed out. “We were out on the lawn behind the mansion.”

“What else did you see?” Logan shakes you a little, causing you to squeak. He is starting to scare you a little bit; the way he is behaving is very irrational.

“That was all I saw, I swear.” You say honestly. 

Logan sighs deeply, tilting his head back with eyes closed. He lets go of you, taking steps back until he’s against the wall. You are growing worried with how he is acting. You wish he would just tell you everything. Tell you what you two really were. Tell you what is running through his head. Tell you what is scaring him so badly. Seeing him so vulnerable has shaken you, but you can’t back down.

“We weren’t just friends,” you whisper. “We were far more, weren’t we?”

Logan’s breath hitches, and his mouth opens to speak but no words come. 

“It explains everything. The way you’ve been acting since we met. I can see the longing in your eyes. I can see it in the way you look after me. What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Logan laughs but it isn't playful. It sounds like a laugh that comes to cover the hurt and is full of self-pity.

“It matters to me!” You lament. “I want to know why.”

“Listen,” Logans says, his tone becoming solemn. “Whatever I say or do here affects the future as we know it. Me even being in the same vicinity as you these last few days has made everything extremely difficult for me. If say or do one thing wrong, that’s it. The future I have with you ceases to exist and you cease to exist.”

“What do you mean I cease to exist?” You ask, taken aback by his confession.

Logan’s face pales, quickly turning to go back up the stairs. “Fuck, I’ve said to much.”

Your hand grabs his, yanking him back enough to keep him still. “Logan, what do you mean I cease to exist?”

Both of your emotions are running high, bubbling to the point of overflow; the edge you both were teetering on, about to fall over. You shouldn’t push it, but rationality is no longer home; only frustration.

“Logan, I swear to God if you don’t tell me what the fuck it is you mean I-“

“You die in the future! Is that what you want to hear?” Logan shouts, and everything goes quiet.

You are stunned. “What?”

“You die during the first few Sentinel attacks.” Logan rips his hand away like he’s having an adverse reaction.

“So,” you start, not knowing where you want to go with this question. “So you’re afraid I’m sealing my fate by being here?”

“I’m afraid I once again won’t be able to save you.” Logan says with a pained expression. 

“You don’t need to worry about me. If something happens, I can just shift time back and we can prevent it.”

“God, you are still so stubborn,” he heaves. He is now face level with you on the steps, and he takes your face in his hands. 

“You don’t understand how hard it is for me to stay away. The first time I saw you at the nightclub, all I wanted to do was pull you into me. It is taking everything in me not to hold you like I want to. To kiss you, to love you. But the more I let you in, the more I am close to giving in. I will not divulge my desires at the risk of everyone that is counting on me, especially you.”

You can see his torment, and all you want is to comfort him. You want to kiss him so bad. You want to pull him by his shirt and never let him go. You understand his love for you, but you want him to understand that you would go to end with him, no matter what. 

Your hands go to his wrists, keeping his hands in place. “Have you considered that you coming back here and me being here with you was meant to happen? What if me being here helping you all saves me? What if it extends our lifetime together?”

He doesn’t say anything, but the way he is looking at you makes you weep. His lip quivers, his eyes start to shine, and his jaw is clenching hard enough to break teeth. Your hands slither up his arms to his shoulders. You feel magnetized, your face inching closer to his to see if he will have a change of heart. You are close enough to feel his breath shutter against your lips, and your heart is beating so fast you are sure he can hear it. You feel slight contact, a ghost of a kiss before full impact, but it never comes.

“Logan!” Charles yells from upstairs. “We are getting ready to go.”

Logan is quick to pull away, sending a wave of hurt towards you. He breathes out a stuttered breath before yelling a response and heading upstairs, but before he goes up he turns his head towards you. “There is money on Charles's desk. Please leave while you have the chance.”

He goes upstairs not looking back and you watch as he disappears from your view. You stand there for a while, deep in thought as you weigh your options, but you knew what you were going to do. Even though Logan was afraid, and rightfully so, you had a gut feeling everything would turn itself around.

So, with heavy steps, you walk up the stairs and down the hall, picking the second to last room on the right. It is barren aside from a bed and a dresser, and seeing the bed made you realize how exhausted the day's events have made you. You shut the door, and flop onto the bed, letting sleep take over and dreams manifest.

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY; Four Hours Later

20 Text Messages.

10 Missed Calls.

3 Voice Messages.

Voice Message 1: Hey baby, just calling you to tell you goodnight. Don’t worry about waking me when you get home. I wanna see you as soon as you get in. Get back safely. I love you.

Voice Message 2: Logan, something is wrong. There are a bunch aircrafts above the mansion. Not sure what is happening. Myself and the others are getting the kids together. I’d rather be safe than sorry. Please be cautious when you get home. I love you.

Voice Message 3: Logan. Logan! Whatever you do, please do not come to the mansion! It’s under attack! Those Sentinels are here and- oh God Logan it’s a slaughter. Please do not come! I’ll find you once I’m safe. I love you!

Logan is running like hell to the mansion, and he can see them. They swarm the building like flies, crawling along the brick. There are fires, giant gaping holes in the wall, and bodies… so many bodies.

He gets in, staying close to the wall as he listens. He can hear the Sentinel bodies grind and creak as they move, hunting down any mutant that hasn’t been vanquished. He sniffs deeply, trying to find you in the building. He hopes you made it out already, but that hope is lost when he gets a strong whiff of you and blood.

So much blood.

He enters the foyer, and dead center he sees your body, a hole pierced into your stomach. He sees your mouth open, trying to breath but your chest stammers as it goes down. 

No. No, no, no!

He is at your side, pulling you into his arms. He cradles your head, his hand going to the hand holding your wound. Your eyes are slitted, a dazed look looking right back at him. It’s haunting how dull you are starting to look, and every second adds to his panic.

“Baby, I’m here. I’m here.”

Your free hand, the one not stained in your own blood, clutches onto his shirt. You pulled on it so lightly, strength slowly fading away. 

“I told you not to come,” you whimpered. “It’s not safe here.”

“I wasn’t about to leave you here to deal with this alone. We gotta get you out of here.”

“No, you do.” 

“Don’t say that,” he said sternly. “You are coming with me.”

He lets go to take his belt and shirt off. Balling up the shirt, he moves your hand to put the fabric against your stomach. 

“Fuck!” You screamed.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Bear with me, please.”

He is crying, holding his sobs in as tears break over the dam. He takes his belt and wraps it around your torso, keeping the pressure so more blood doesn’t come out. There is already so much around you. 

“I’m gonna lift you up, okay?” 

He wraps your arms around his neck, getting a grip under your legs and your back before lifting you up. 

“I got you. I got you.”

He starts walking back from where he came, but he wasn’t so lucky this time. He sees them on the ground, making their way up from where he entered. He turns quickly, thinking the only other way out is through the tunnels.

He hits the secret door, and just as it opens he hears one coming their way. He shoves you both through, getting it shut before he starts making his way down. He is making multiple turns, his mind spinning in a haze as he goes to find the exit. He feels your breathing slow, and for the first time in a long time he is scared. You are everything. Without you, he is nothing.

He makes one final turn, the exit at the end, but he halts in his spot. All he sees is carnage. There is blood on the walls, bodies of students, and marks from where their gifts were used. The exit door had been beaten down, the walls cracked and gone along with it. 

“Good God…” He shouldn’t have come down here.

He turns to go back, but from the shadows comes one of them. It blends in with the concrete, and makes itself known once it’s in reach. Its arm shifts into something sharp, and once formed it draws down to where he stands, but just as quickly he dodges with you in his arms.

“We’re not dying today, bub.”

He starts to run like hell towards the exit, only to see another one pop up at the opening. He takes a sharp turn, getting the runaround to make it back to the entrance. It’s a maze of turns, feeling like it’ll take an eternity to get to safety, but with one final turn he has it.

And then he doesn’t.

Rubble had fallen from the flooring above and made its way down creating a massive blockage. It’s a fucking dead end.

The two Sentinels approach, both opening their mouths to burn you two alive. He crouches down with his back facing them, preparing to take anything they give him. He will suffer. Good God, he will suffer. But if he can fake them out enough to leave, you will be safe. That’s all that matters.

But the pain never comes. 

“Logan.”

He looks down to see you holding your arms out, and his eyes widen when he realizes you are using your powers. He turns to see the Sentinels, but they are still moving. Just incredibly slow.

“Logan, you need to leave.”

He turns back to you, and sees your body shaking. The work he had put into keeping the blood from spilling was fatal. You were hemorrhaging. 

“I’m not leaving you here. I won’t do it.”

You let out a pitiful cry, your tears streaming down your cheeks. He can see his too as they mix with yours.

“There is no saving me. Let me save you, please.”

“Baby, I-“

“Do not let me die in vain, Logan. They need you.”

“But I need you!”

“I know, and I’m sorry I can’t give you what you need. It’s selfish, I know.”

“You’re damn right it is.”

“But please, let me be selfish. Let me save you.”

He can start to feel the heat, the Sentinels mouths setting wide enough to set this tunnel ablaze. Everything is telling him to stay, but the way you are looking at him breaks him and it makes him cave.

He can never say no to you.

“Go. Find the others. Make sure they are safe. God, please make sure they are safe.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” Logan chokes, holding you just a little tighter. “I’m so sorry.”

“I am too.”

He kisses you. It’s soft yet full of sorrow. It’s a kiss of death, he knows it. 

“I’ll see you in the next life.”

You smiled at that. It’ll be the last smile he sees from you. “Go quickly. I can’t hold on much longer, Logan.”

He lets go, gently setting you down, before he runs past the Sentinels and makes his way back to the exit. The second he was out of sight, he heard it. The roar of the flames, the mechanical sounds from their armor, and your screams.

All he can hear is your screaming.

Your screams.

You are fucking screaming.

Logan shoots up from the bed, a yell cutting off from his lips as he enters consciousness. He is breathing rapidly, swallowing nonexistent spit as he works to pull himself together. His claws were all the way out, a common side effect of his trauma response. He feels how cool the air is in the room due to the sweat that coated his body. 

He didn’t think he could dream in this current state. He hasn’t had that dream in a while, even though he wishes it was simply that. He used to have it so often, a constant reminder that he failed you and let you suffer just so he could get away. Having to relive the worst day of his life over and over is his own form of hell.

He hears a knock at the door, startling him from his state of being. 

“Logan?” 

He freezes up, knowing that voice from anywhere. He really doesn’t want you in here, not with him like this. Not with him feeling so exposed. 

“I’m fine!” He calls out, hoping you would take the hint, but he knows better.

He watches the door open and you appear. You are still in your beat up clothes, leather jacket and dirty shoes forgotten. Nothing has changed, but you look even more beautiful than you have since he’s gotten here. Maybe it’s because his senses are heightened. Maybe it’s the way the floodlights from outside shine on you in contrast with the dark room. Simply, maybe it is just you.

“I thought I told you to leave.” He says, trying to sound annoyed, but failing miserably.

“Yeah, and I told you I wasn’t going to let grown men tell me what to do.” You responded, shutting the door behind you. 

“Hmph,” he groused, looking down at his hands as his claws sink back into his flesh.

He hears you get closer, feet pattering against the wooden floors. “I could hear you in your sleep. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” But am I really? “Just a nightmare.”

He looks out the window, the night in full effect. The bed dips, and he looks to see you sitting down at the end. He sees it in your face that you don’t believe him, which isn’t surprising. You’ve always been able to read him no matter the circumstances. 

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he says quickly. He doesn’t want to relive it twice in one night.

“Okay, okay,” you say calmly. “Tell me what I can do for you.”

Please stay, so I know this is real. 

That’s what he wants to say, but he feels like he will choke. His silence is deafening, so much so he sees your face twist in reaction. 

“If you want to be alone, I understand.” You got up from the bed. “Goodnight, Logan.”

There was a time when he didn’t need to be strong or to carry the weight of others. With you as his anchor, he could be exposed. He has had to be strong for so long in recent years, but with you right here in front of him, he feels himself caving. So many emotions are rushing to his head, a battle between the Devil and God raging. He knows it’s wrong to interfere with the past, especially when there are consequences, but after tonight his sanity is slipping. Before he knows it, his hand grabs your arm to keep you from taking another step.

“Stay,” he whispers, a hint of a crack that is only noticed by him. “Please.”

“Okay,” you say with ease. “Where do you want me?”

The angel on his shoulder is telling him to not give in, yet the little, conniving demon on the other side is telling him what he wants to hear. He wants you close; needs you close.

“Will you let me hold you?” 

He thought there may be some hesitation, but there is none. You walk back over to the bed, and he lays back as you climb onto it. His arm is out to invite you in, and you situate yourself to him. Your left arm is cradled into your chest and your right curls so your hand is where his heart is. Your head settles where his right arm and shoulder connect.

“Is this okay?” 

It’s more than okay. “Yes, thank you.”

You both lay there for a while, and he lets his senses completely take over. The first thing he senses is your smell. There is something so sugary sweet about your scent. He equates it closely to something he’d smell in a candy shop with housemade confections. It’s intoxicating, and makes him hungry. 

You fit into his arms just right. The skin from your cheek laying on his exposed shoulder brings a comfort he hasn’t had in so long. It made him realize how touch-starved he’s been. He hasn’t touched another woman since your passing, and the thought of doing so makes his stomach turn. He only wants to feel you against him, in every sense of the word. 

The most shocking thing for him is to hear how calm you sound. Your breathing is deep and slow. Your heartbeat is sounding its soothing rhythm under your ribcage. It’s the opposite of how his heart was reacting; hard and fast pumps of blood rushing. He feels your hand rubbing circles over his heart, and he wonders if you can tell how much you are affecting him. 

“Tell me something about me from the future.”

Logan looks down at you, and you look so peaceful as you lay with him. Does he do this to you?

“What do you want to know?” 

“Anything. Something good.”

There are so many good things about you. It’s hard to divulge into just one thing, but even then he knows where to start.

“You teach music at the school.”

You perked your head up at this. “I teach?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, smiling to himself. “You do a lot of the extracurricular activities for the younger ones, but music is one you do a lot of. You’re really good with kids.”

You move your body, hands on top of one another on his chest. Your head lays on them, looking at him with a smile that makes his heart beat faster. 

“Sounds like I’ve become a lot more patient in the future.”

“Trust me,” Logan chuckles. “You are still quite stubborn, but you are different with them.”

Logan loved seeing you with the kids. He remembers how nervous you were to teach the younger students, but he knew you would do well. Seeing how you interacted with them during class, how you encouraged them and gave them the will to work hard. So many of the kids came from families who despised who they were. You became a mother-figure to a lot of them.

He thinks about the time he woke up to kids laughing and looked out the window to see you running around with them. You were carrying on with them, laughing with them, looking at them with care and love. It was the moment he realized he would love to start a family with you. Watch you grow with his child, see you love them like you love the kids at school. It makes his heart twist.

“Did they like me?”

“Oh, sweetheart. They loved you.” Loved. God, you were so loved by them.

“Can I ask something?” You ask.

“Anything.” He can feel himself getting lost in you, his hand subconsciously caressing your hair. 

“What I did in Paris,” you start. “You seemed genuinely confused when I explained what I did earlier. Was that something I couldn’t do in the future?”

When you told him you brought his memories to the forefront of his mind, shifting time in his brain, he was shocked. Your mutation is special, and the control you had over it is simply astounding. He isn’t surprised that your powers can do more than what was discovered originally, but it now begged the question: what triggered it and why now?

“No,” Logan says with the shake of his head. “What do you think caused it?”

“Logan, I think you did.” He hears you hesitate.

“What do you mean?”

He watches as you sit up, crossing your legs. Your hands grab his right hand, thumbs pushing into his skin right where his mutated bones come out. It is strange how different you are acting in comparison to the last few days. You are acting like the you he gets to know later, the edge in your attitude completely gone. Maybe this is who you are or maybe… you are only this way with him.

“So, the day we met, earlier that day, I saw you come out of the Algonquin.”

He sits up at this, heart picking up more. “You were there?”

“I pulled over because I started to get a terrible migraine. It was so bad I thought I was having a stroke or something, but then it stopped like it was never there. Next thing I know, I see you and I can't look away. I felt like I knew you and I didn’t know why.”

“Has it happened more than once? The migraines?” Logan is pulled into your direction, back hunching slightly to get closer even when he doesn’t realize it.

“It happened again at Max’s when you introduced yourself.”

His eyes widen, the pieces coming together. “That’s why you looked like you were in pain.” 

“I chalked it up to having drank too much,” you huffed out a laugh. “It didn’t make sense at the time, but after Paris I can’t shake the feeling.”

“So what are you saying? That I opened your mind?” 

“If I didn’t have access to this part of my mutation from the future you are from, what if that means this was all meant to happen?” You brought his hand to your chest where your heart lies and he can feel directly where your heart beats.

Where it beats for him.

“I wasn’t even the one meant to come here,” Logan says in denial. “It was supposed to be Charles.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” You grip his hand harder, pushing it further against you. “What if you were meant to find me to make things right? To save everyone. To save us. Maybe this is fate trying to tell you something.”

He is becoming weak. Your words are so honest and it is taking nothing to believe you. Maybe you are right, maybe you are wrong. You haven’t seen the bloodbath the future becomes, but maybe you don’t need to have seen to know. Your words, your reasoning; both make his resolve crack and there isn’t much left. Having you here in front of him, being so reassuring and confident, he isn’t going to last. 

“What are you thinking right now, Logan?” You ask gently, and if he is seeing things correctly, he sees how much you want him to give in. And that’s all he needs.

“I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you right now.”

His hand on your chest is pulled lower, down to your left breast where you curl your fingers over his to squeeze the flesh. “Then do it.”

To say the dam has broken would be an understatement. The dam has vaporized, mass flooding reaching the heavens. Those three words were enough for him to snatch you into his arms, pull you on top of him, and get his lips onto yours. He has your thighs on either side of his own, holding you so close that your crotch is pressed tightly against his. Your hands are holding onto his shoulders with nails digging into his skin, and fuck he loves it.

His hands are all over you; going from your hips to your ass to the small of your back to your head. He wants to touch every part of you and memorize every inch of your skin. His fingers bundle up the bottom of your top, pushing it up with his fingertips to let his palms glide along your waist. You gasped against his lips, giving him the opportunity to let his tongue fondle yours. 

He unclasps your bra as his hands reach the middle of your back, giving him the chance to take both items of clothing off your body. He pulls away from you, back leaning against the headboard as he takes you in. Your body is just as he remembered it, and he could weep at how stunning you are.

“Do I look okay?” There is a hint of uncertainty in your voice, and it sends his hands to gently bring your face down to him.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on.” His eyes bore into yours as he tells you, needing you to know how much he means it. 

Before he can say anything else, your lips are back on his. He lets you take the lead, your tongue leading him in a dance. It gives him the opportunity to focus his hands on your breasts. You whimper against his mouth and he feels you push your chest into his palms as he massages them, which causes a little smirk to form at the corner of his mouth. You had always loved when he played with them as it turned you on like nothing else. 

“Good to know your tits have always been so sensitive,” he murmurs against your lips, thumb and pointer fingers going to pinch the puckered buds.

A high-pitched moan is pulled from you, your hips involuntary grinding against him in response. Your lips let go of his, and they end up going to his cheek. “I guess you know how to get me going, don’t you?”

“Oh baby, I know your body like the back of my hand,” he hums with a rumble. He can play your body like an instrument, the song being your sweet noises. He is going to show you just how well he makes you sing.

He is quick to flip you over, removing his white wife pleaser in the process before his hands go to your jeans. He yanks them down with your panties and you help kick them off before he tosses them aside. He goes to take his own off, stripping everything away until he is as naked as you are. 

He crawls up to you, moving your thighs over his hips. His hands reach under your back and he pulls you into his lap. Your legs wrapped around him, and he groans as your wet cunt sits against his cock. His left arm stays wrapped around you, and his right hand holds the back of your head with fingers at the roots of your hair. Your hips start grinding up onto his erection, mewls so sweet that he can’t help but consume them.

He pulls your head to the side by your hair gently, tugging just enough to get a reaction from you. Your eyes flutter, and he hums as he lets his lips ghost over your ear. 

“I have every little spot of yours memorized,” he kisses behind your ear, his tongue peeking out for a little lick before kissing in the same spot. “Even if you think you know what they are, just know I know all of them.”

“Fuck, Logan,” you say with a shiver, making your body press further into the heat he is projecting. 

“Mmm that’s right.” His lips go down to the underside of your jaw where your pulse is, kissing it gingerly to prepare you for his next act. “Keep that up.”

He bites down slowly on the crevice, letting his teeth sink in far enough to leave his mark. Your hands are on his head, cooing softly at the distinct pressure. He releases, licking the indents he left in your skin to soothe the ache. 

“You sound so pretty, baby,” he murmurs. “Let me see if you know this one.”

His mouth trails down, sucking marks into your skin until he gets down to your sternum. His back hunches down, leaning you back to get the angle just right. He sets his tongue to work, letting the tip trail a stripe up until he reaches the notch between your collarbones. A little gasp followed by a hushed curse falls from your lips. The sensation causes you to squirm in his lap and it makes his dick twitch against your folds. Logan isn’t a patient man in most regards, but he could spend an eternity exploring your body. Your reactions fuel him and they send blood right down to his cock. 

“Didn’t know about that spot, did you?” 

“No, ah!” Logan pulls another gasp from you as he nibbles around the edges. “Getting me addicted to you early, aren’t you?”

“That’s right, angel.” Logan can’t help himself, thrusting his hips up a little to let his length rub into your pussy; so wet and so good. “I’ll have you yearning for me for decades to come.”

As he proceeds the motion of his hips, tightening his hold on you, he allows his right hand to come up to your left breast. With his tongue and cock being a distraction, he pulls at your taut nipple at the same time his teeth bite down on your collarbone. You cry out his name, his hair being fisted and pulled. He can’t help the wanton moan that spills out, riling him up to no end. 

Your breast feels so at home in his hand, but looking at how pretty your nipples look, flushed from his treatment, he gets a craving. His tongue makes a path down, making its way to the left and up until it slithers to your erected bud. His mouth latches, encircling the peak as he sucks earnestly. He continues rutting into you, feeling his and your fluids coating his appendage. 

Logan feels himself becoming drunk. With you in his arms reciprocating his intentions, it’s like he is weightless. Something deep in his scarred heart is healing. Years of trauma from seeing and experiencing the unthinkable transform into the better things in life. He thinks of the future he could have with you. A future where you take his last name. A future where you two live in a little home decorated however you choose. A future with your belly big with his kid, where he can kiss your stomach every morning and every night. A future where you and him raise a child. He wants that. He wants that so bad. 

In his drunken haze, he feels one of your hands leave his head. Your fingertips send his nerves alight as they trail down his arm. You are tracing the veins that are bulging out, and he grunts as they go over to his chest. He has switched to your other breast, and as he starts, he feels your palm against his cock. You are pushing it more into your cunt, thumb running over his fat tip as you rub it. 

“Fuck,” he curses with a pop. “You are such a greedy girl.”

“What can I say?” You jest. “I know what I want.”

“And what would that be, sugar?” He thrusts against you, cockhead rubbing up and down your clit. 

You smiled at him, and your other hand goes from his head to his jaw. Fingers slightly scratching his beard with your thumb on his bottom lip, you lean back into him with knees shifting. They are on either side of him now and his tip is being lined up against your hole. Your eyes seek out his, and he can’t look away as he admires you. You are beautiful, an angel sent down for him. Every version of you is perfect, and for every version of you he will sacrifice everything.

“I want you to make love to me,” you say with a shuttered breath. “Show me how you love me. Show me what I have to look forward to.”

Logan’s tip is enveloped by your heat by the time you finish, and your words were the full confirmation he needed to seat you fully onto his shaft. 

It’s like gasping for air with how intense his reunion with you feels. You fit perfectly around him. It’s almost too good to be true. Part of him is wondering if he is still dreaming, but with how warm and snug you are, it has to be real. This has to be happening.

You lift your hips until all that’s connected is the head before dropping back down. His cock glides right in and he grunts as you work yourself on him. He guides your movements with his hands, both on your plush ass and giving a squeeze with every bounce. Your arms have since wrapped around his neck, head hiding in his neck. Your hot breath fans across his skin, your teeth nipping at him every time he fills you up. 

He loves how you are taking what you need, letting you keep the pace to get used to his size. Normally during an intimacy session, he would prepare you more thoroughly. He’d pleasure you with his mouth, letting his spit coated tongue lubricate your pretty pussy. He’d finger you open, getting you nice and relaxed for his heavy cock. He would add another when your little noises got rowdier, a tell-tale sign that you needed more. He did everything to ensure you were ready for him, the enjoyment of your pleasure and taste a perk in the endeavor. With how you are riding him, however, it feels like you are preparing him. Taking it slow, letting him savor you, letting him know that this is real and you are his. 

“You feel incredible, Lo,” you whimper into his neck. He just about mimics you after hearing you call him by that little nickname.

“I can say the same to you, pretty girl.” He lifts your head by your hair, putting your forehead to his as he rocks up into you. “Taking my cock so well. You were made for me. Ain’t that right?”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “I’ll always be yours. In every lifetime, I am yours and you are mine.”

He chokes out a laugh, completely overwhelmed with emotion. He kisses your swollen lips with ease, his tongue flicking out to savor your taste. Every moan that comes out is captured by his mouth, swallowing the sweet sounds desperately. He notices your hips start to slow, and your whining gets more consistent. He knew you were tiring, but that was okay. He has enough energy and greed to take over. You make him greedy, and he needs more.

“Did you want me to take over, baby?”

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “Take me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He shifts himself, keeping you two connected as he gets you onto your back. He situates you so your legs are wrapped around his torso, legs pushed down so your thighs are almost to your chest. The angle he has you in gives him the chance to push in just a little more, his tip putting pressure onto your cervix. 

“Oh God, you are so deep,” you mewl, clenching down on his cock causing him to groan at the grip.

“That’s right, baby. Damn you look so beautiful like this.” 

“Yeah? I look beautiful with your big cock in my pretty pussy?”

“Fuck, you got a mouth on you.” Logan thrusts shallowly in response, a whine ripping out from your throat. “But to answer your question, you look beautiful no matter what.”

He starts thrusting long, deep strokes into you. He lets one hand stick to your hip, and the other has a gentle grip on your jaw to keep your head in place. His thumb traces your bottom lip, and in an instant your tongue latches to it. It draws it in, getting it so your lips close around it and suck on it as your tongue lathers it. Your eyes shut, and you hum happily like you are savoring the musk from his skin. It enraptured him, making him pick up the pace, hips starting to slam against you. 

He’s on the cusp of his release. He doesn’t want this end, not by a long shot. But tonight will become tomorrow. A new day will start where the stresses of his mission will come to light. All he can do is savor this last little bit of happiness and hope sometime soon he will wake up with you by his side.

“Lo, I’m close,” you grunt out.

He takes his soaked thumb, bringing it down to your bundle of nerves. “I’ll get you there, baby. Cum whenever you are ready.”

He swirls your clit at an easy pace, a contrast to how he is slamming into you. He is battering into your pussy, hitting that spot he knows all too well. Your moans grow louder, more accustomed to his hard hitting movements. The sounds of wet slapping with moaning and grunting fill the room, and with the slightest bit of added pressure to your clit he gets you there; right where he wants you.

Your back is arching off the bed, nails finding purchase on his thighs. Your moans are breathless, the wind knocked out as he continues the fast pace of his hips. He looks down where the two of you are connected, watching the white fluid flow down between your ass and drip onto the bed. He can smell it and something snaps in his brain where he wants more. 

He can tell you are coming down from your high, but he isn’t having any of that. His length stills, fully seated in you, and starts rutting the tip against your g-spot. 

“Fuck, it’s too much,” you cry out. “Logan, please!”

“I got you, pretty girl. Just need you to cum on my cock one more time.” 

You nod, and he pushes his hips harder, and it isn’t long before you are wailing with another release. This sets him off again, and he pulls almost fully out before pistoning his cock in and out rapidly as he prolongs your orgasm. You are wailing his name, and he can see tears falling down the sides of your eyes from how good he was making you feel. He is on top of a hill about to roll down, and before he releases, he pulls out. 

Your legs try to shut, but his thighs prevent it. He takes two fingers and sticks them into your cunt to continue riding your release out. His other hand fists his cock over your stomach, and with a growl he is cumming in ropes. White paints your tummy until it’s pooling down into your belly button, drenching the skin and making it sheer. He is breathing heavy, orgasmic bliss fading into something more peaceful. He sees you are on the same boat, chest going up and down. It isn’t until he hears a sob crash out from your lips and more tears forming that he snaps out of his daze.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” He is urgent as he gets off the bed, getting closer to you from the side of the bed. His hands are immediately on your face, thumbs wiping away the new droplets trailing down. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke, staggered breaths coming from you with a mixture of sobs in between. “I’m okay. It was just a lot.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I got carried away.” He goes to kiss the apples of your cheeks where the tears have stained, before standing up fully. “Let me get you cleaned, okay?”

He turns to go get a towel from the bathroom when he feels your hand wrap around his wrist, stopping him completely. 

“It was a lot, but in a good way.”

He goes to kneel on the ground beside the bed, hands going to yours to kiss your knuckles. “Are you sure you are okay? I wouldn’t dream of hurting you,” he murmurs into your skin. 

“Logan, I have never experienced pleasure like that before,” you say hiccuping, causing a laugh to bubble out after. “I never thought I could experience something like that with someone ever.”

It dawns on him that this is technically your first time with him, meaning once the future sets to the right course, this moment will become the first time he made love to you. His mind goes back to the very first time, both coming back from a night out with a need so deep that it was said and done too quickly. This time, he got to cherish you. He got to make your first time with him feel special and adored. It is surreal, and it is everything. 

“Why are you crying?” He hears you whisper, a hand escaping his grip to wipe away his own tears.

He didn’t even realize it, but he didn’t care. He didn’t hide it. He lets you wipe them away, mirroring how he tended to yours. “I’m happy. Happier than I have been in a long time.”

He brings his head down to kiss your lips, a light peck that leads to a few more on your face. A giggle leaves your lips, and he swears his face grew more wet. 

He looks to see the cum starting to dry on your skin, and he places one more kiss before standing up. “Let me get you cleaned up, and we can rest for a while.”

He rushes to the bathroom, steps heavy, and emerges with a warm, wet towel. He sits on the edge of the bed, taking the fabric to your heat to clean the fluids lingering. He is gentle, not wanting to rub the towel anywhere that’s still sensitive to the touch. He kisses your knees and the inside of your thighs, the fabric now on your tummy as he wipes you clean. Your skin is cleared of any fluids, and with one last kiss to your flesh he pulls away. 

He tosses the towel into the sink before going to the other side of the bed, pulling the sheet and comforter back to get under. He reaches over to you, pulling you into him as he adjusts the blanket from under you. He settles with you on his chest, just like you were earlier, with the bedding now over your forms. You snuggle up to him, your fingers twirling around the hair on his chest. His fingers brush through your hair, admiring the afterglow you are giving, and thinking about how lucky he is right now.

You are his baby. His life. His soul. He was miserable without you, but he didn’t realize how bad off he was until now. Having you back in his arms, even for a moment, made his soul come to life. It had been rendered useless when it was severed, and now his sense of purpose is strong. The love he is feeling in this room wraps around him snuggly, and he doesn’t want to leave its embrace. 

Your left hand pokes out from in between your bodies, and his free hand goes to twiddle with the fingers. He thinks about how big his hands are compared to yours. His whole fist could cover the entirety of your hand, yet your hands are on the rougher side like his. There are some calluses from what he assumes is drumming. They form along the top of your palm where your fingers connect. He stops where your ring finger lies, and he subconsciously sighs.

He remembers how Storm had helped him find a ring for you. You had said how you would love anything he chose because it was from him. However, he wanted it to be a ring that made a statement for his love. He wanted a ring where every time you looked at it, you would know how much he adored you. 

He thinks about how back in the future, it is still around his neck like a virtue. It makes him wonder if in the near distant future, when things become sane and good, if he will still have that ring. Will he, who may become a different man after he returns, have the guts to propose to you? He regrets so much, but that is something he regrets greatly. Not proposing before the world fell apart. Not proposing to let you know that he is ready to take the next step, and to let you know he is committed to you even past the point of death. Death do us part doesn’t apply to you or him. 

“What’s on your mind?”

He looks down to see you looking up at him, a smile forming on his lips as he takes you in. “Just thinking about how I could go for a cigar right now.”

You smacked his chest, making him grunt out a chuckle. “I’m guessing that’s a common occurrence after these kinds of things.”

“That or we go for round two,” he smirks, laughing as you smack his chest again.

“Horndog,” you mumble into his side. 

“A horndog for you, baby.” He goes to kiss you again but then he hears rapid knocking on their door.

“Are you two decent?” Hank asks loudly from behind the door. “This is urgent!”

“Just come in, Hank.” Logan pulls the covers further up on you, a slight possessiveness taking over as Hank comes in. Your body is for his eyes only. 

He thought Hank may feel a little embarrassed seeing the two of you like this, but there is none of that. Hank marched over; any social cues forgotten as he sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Listen, bub, what could possibly be so urgent that you are sitting on the bed I just fucked my girl silly on?”

“Logan!” You scowl.

Hank rolls his eyes. “Raven is going to Washington. Trask is going to be at the White House tomorrow, and she plans to strike. We need to leave tonight.”

“What is happening at the White House?” Logan asked, sitting up on his elbows.

Hank shakes his head in a way that tells Logan it isn’t for anything good. “They are presenting the Sentinel Program tomorrow.”

“Oh God,” you mutter. “Trask is already that far along? Does that mean they could be unleashed sooner?”

Logan shutters at the thought. The idea of the Sentinels starting their massacre whole decades earlier makes him uneasy. It scares him. He wonders if this means things are now going to be worse than they already were, which is hard to imagine. He doesn’t want to imagine it. 

He wishes he had more time. He doesn’t know when he will get to be like this with you again. It could feel like a matter of seconds, minutes, hours, days. He could wake up to a world where you and him don’t coincide. But at the end of the day, he needs to pull through for you and everyone else. His main priority is that he wakes up to a world where everyone is alive.

This is his last chance.

“Alright, we’ll get up and get stuff together.” Logan says, and with that Hank gets up with a nod.

As he makes his exit, Logan starts to get up, but not before he feels your arms wrapping around his torso trying to pull him back.

“Sweetheart, we need to get up,” Logan says softly, not wanting to disturb the peace in this room. Not wanting to unveil their reality.

“Just a few more minutes,” you wager. “I’ll freeze time if that means I can stay like this for a few more minutes.”

He can’t deny you. God, he can’t. He lays back down to his original state, and before he can help himself the words are out in the open.

“I love you.”

You didn’t respond, and that’s okay. He already knows you love him too.

The White House; Washington D.C.

“Yes, I am with the marine band.”

“You are late, Sergeant. Get into position with the others.”

“Yes sir!”

You move past the metal detectors, jogging towards the rest of the marine band members. There was an empty spot where the snare lies and you get into position, harness going over your shoulders. You fall into play, Stars and Stripes Forever sounding throughout the set up.

It’s perfect really. You are in the best position to see everything. You will be able to see Trask, the President, and other high ranking officials. If things fall into complete disarray, you will shift the time backward and have a complete do over. In the meantime, the guys will look for Raven before she can strike.

It was a string of luck thanks to Charles’s willingness to use his powers again. Hank had told you he had a change of heart, and while you had no proof of what convinced him, you had a feeling it had to do with the man who completely bared his soul to you last night.

Just the thought makes you blush. You aren’t one to let someone you barely know in your bed, giving yourself to them completely. You’ve been there, done that, and it never stuck or felt right. With Logan, it felt different. There is a bond between you both that’s inexplicably there. You have felt it from the start, and it was only confirmed after last night. The way he took care of you, made love to you; you could feel the love he felt for you and while scary to admit, you love him too.

He looks at you like you are the center of his universe. He looks at you like living isn’t worth shit unless you are by his side. It pains you but only because whatever happened in his future has scarred him deep. You could feel it in the way he kissed you, and left marks on your body. He was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming; that you were there. 

You don’t know what will happen after today, but what you do know is you will find him. You will find him, learn every detail about him until he is like a second skin, and love him like he deserves. You will make sure of it.

You look towards the metal detectors and see them passing through. You see Logan look in your direction, a smile shining towards you that you mirror right back. He looks you up and down, sending a wink your way before turning back to Charles and once again your face feels hot. His effect on you is absolutely outstanding. 

You can see Charles scanning the crowd, undoubtedly looking for Raven amongst the thousands of people. You keep your eyes on him, reading his expressions as he continues lurking. You aren’t sure what time it is but it’s only a matter of time before President Nixon makes his speech. Even then, that doesn’t mean Raven won’t strike before that.

“I haven’t found Raven yet. Be prepared.”

You felt Charles rattling in your brain. You look in his direction to see everyone looking towards you and you nod to signal the message was clear.

The conductor cuts off the song, signaling the event is about to start. You focus your attention to the stage, looking for any kind of sign of Raven. Everything seems pristine, Secret Service covered at every point. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” You hear someone speak through the microphone on the podium. Your attention goes to the man, someone from Nixon’s advisory team surely, standing before everyone. “It is my utmost pleasure to welcome Mr. President Nixon!”

You see the conductor wave his baton, signaling to start playing, and quickly you are rolling your sticks once the first beat drops. You watch, trying to look in your peripherals for anything weird, before you hear a gunshot.

Your eyes snap to the stage, and you see Trask lying there with a bullet to his head. People are losing their minds, standing erratically to get away from whoever the shooter was. You drop your drumsticks, quickly snapping your fingers to stop the commotion. Everything freezes, and you take the opportunity to walk away from your post. You make observations, needing to be quick, and it doesn’t take long for you to see Raven. Or at least make the assumption that it’s her.

You see she transformed into a man from the Secret Service. The gun has since been lowered and you can see two other Secret Service officials running to tackle. You walk to look at the man’s face, and it makes your lips purse slightly.

She is smiling. There is genuine joy in what she just did. Before time froze over, it was obvious she saw the other men coming to take her down, but she didn’t care. You see it in her face: she won. It didn’t matter what happened afterwards. She saved her kind, your kind. 

Except she didn’t, and that’s what kills you as you look at her. Her actions kill so many, and leave so many people without their loved ones. Your future livelihood is dismantled by the Sentinels, so deep down you understand Raven’s hatred for Trask. You hate him too, but you believe all will come to the light. Trask will get his due diligence, and hopefully it’s something worse than death.

Humiliation. Defunding his work. Life behind bars. For a man like him, death would be too easy.

You pass her, heading towards the rest of the group. You get to Logan’s side, and release a breath you didn’t know you needed to release. You lift your arms up and move them down slowly. As they descend, time rolls back like it’s a moveable force. People that swarmed like ants are back in their seats, high security are back at their stations, the President makes his way back behind the stage, and Trask is back on his feet. Your hands clenched tight, holding everything in place before releasing and things continue on completely reset.

You lean down to Charles, making sure he hears you clearly. “She’s right there to the left of the stage. Act fast.”

Charles looks in that direction, focusing with an urgency as he sets his sights on Raven. You watch the scene unfold again, and see how Raven goes to pull the gun from her jacket but she halts. You see her grow stiff, and her lips move like she is talking to someone. 

“I’ve got her,” Charles says with relief. “I can only hold her for so long.”

“You two go get her,” Hank says as he gets behind Charles. “He is right. Charles is still not as strong as he was before. You both need to be quick.”

You nod and the two of you start trekking over to where Raven is. The President is talking, but it’s muddled as you focus. The two of you walk slowly, but with urgency, not wanting to cause any alarm that would halt any progress. That didn’t matter, however, because right as you two are on her, a Secret Service agent is in front of you both.

“I’m sorry, but this is as far as you two can go.” He has his hands raised in front of him to prevent any further steps. 

“Behold! The world will never be the same again…” The National Anthem kicks in, and you turn to see the American flag drop. What you see makes your jaw drop. 

Eight large robots. They couldn’t be more than twenty feet tall. Hell, it looks like they could stomp the average person out. The sheer size of them makes you uneasy, knowing what they can and will do makes your stomach churn. 

“Is that what they look like?” You say quietly, your back now pressed against Logan’s front.

“This is just the start.” Logan's right hand grabs yours, squeezing tightly. “But we can change that.”

You squeeze back just as tight, hoping it conveys that you are with him. “Let me stop the time so you can get her.” You go to snap your fingers, but Logan squeezes your hand again as if to hold off. 

“What?”

“Do you hear that?” He yells over the cheers. “Something’s coming.”

Logan keeps looking around, and in his search is when you see something moving from the corner of your eye. You turn, and a lump starts forming in your throat.

“Good God…”

It is clockwork with how things evolved. The Sentinels, with their yellow eyes and shiny polymer, are no longer on their feet. They are in the air, carefully looking down on the crowd like they are Gods. They look so much bigger off the ground, and it unsettles you to no end. 

You see Trask and the Major talking, a look of frustration on the scientist's face. It confuses you because he is the one that has control over the giants. However, your question is answered when the sun seems to go away and only shadows linger in the shape of a ring. Rubble and debris fall from the sky, and once you look up you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

A whole fucking stadium. Rows and rows of seats and cement foundation floating in the sky. It moves over the White House like a storm, slowly but surely coming with impending coverage. It is only as the inner circle enters your vision that you see Erik, carrying the weight of it like it was nothing.

The Sentinels rise higher, going up towards the floating anomaly as it surrounds it. You think for a second that maybe they were activated because they detected the threat. However, as you watch them reach the top, taking places like they are guarding a post with arms drawn, you know it wasn’t anyone commanding them from the ground, but from the sky. 

“Holy shit Erik…” you whisper to yourself, some disbelief edged into your voice. Erik was a powerful mutant, that you knew, but this? This was next level.

“I’m getting Raven!”

Before you can say anything, Logan is running to tackle Raven down, but it doesn't matter. The minute he is on his feet, bullets are raining from the sky in droves. 

“Logan, get back!” You yell, running to pull him back before the mass array of bullets hit him.

“I’ll be fine! I can take them!” Logan yells over the madness of crowds flocking away. “We need to get her!”

“Look around!” You grab his shoulders, shaking them. “It doesn’t matter if we get her now. We need to get Erik and we can’t if we are both down!”

You don’t wait for him to answer, dragging him to rubble that had made its way to the ground. You look around it, trying to get eyes on Charles and Hank before the ground shakes. Logan has his arms around you, covering your body with his to protect it from any kind of blow. 

It’s quiet for a moment as the dust settles. You peep out again, trying to locate the other two again. The field was a ghost town, the crowd able to escape before the stadium trapped them in. The President, Trask, and others were gone, assuming they went into some sort of hiding place that only they know about. It is only then that you realize Raven is no longer to be seen, which makes you think she went into hiding… with them.

“Oh no…” 

“What?” Logan whispers, his eyes trained elsewhere.

“I think Raven is with Trask.”

“Unfortunately, I think we have a bigger fucking problem now.” Logan curses with eyes unmoving.

You look to see where he is staring, and you see Erik walking towards the White House before stopping. His hands go out in front of him, moving them like he is scanning for something.

You feel something in your mind move, and you gasp when you hear the voice in your head. “Charles?”

“My dear, we are running out of time.” You hear Charles echo in your head. “If you or Logan can get Erik’s helmet off of him, I can stop him.”

“Okay, on it.” You turn in Logan’s hold, back now against the rubble. “We need to get the helmet off him. I will stop time while you grab it.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Logan grunts, crouching in front of you. 

“Alright, here we go.” You focus all your energy on your surroundings before snapping your fingers. Your fists are secured, and you look at Logan before nodding his way. “Go on.”

He goes to get up but stops for a second before coming back down. His lips are on yours, a long peck before releasing you. You’re stunned, not expecting such a romantic gesture. “I’ll be back for you, baby.”

He’s off, running towards Erik. You watch as he makes it up to him, carefully removing the helmet and putting it under his arm. He is on his way back, holding the helmet close as he gets back to where you stood. You both crouch back down, and you unclench your fists letting time continue its course. 

“Charles, he’s all yours,” you say with the hope he can hear you.

It’s quiet for only a moment when you hear something heavy fall to the ground. You hear a yell, one that sounded exactly like Charles, and you shoot up. You see some particles in the air to your right, steel and concrete a heap on the ground. You see brown hair, and then you see Hank, fully in his true blue form, trying to lift the heavy weight off of Charles. Panic sets in, not really sure how bad the damage is but it stirs you to stand up and release the alarming catharsis that bubbles to the surface.

“Charles!” You scream, your fight or flight response taking the former as you run towards them. You sense Logan right behind you, following your trail as you approach the mess. You almost make it, ready to stop time again but then you feel something graze your arm and then a stretch of pain that takes you out.

You fall with a grunt, holding your left arm as you curse to yourself. Blood is making its way down your arm, and you work to put pressure on it but it continues to seep through the cracks of your fingers. Shit, shit, shit!

You hear more bullets go off towards you, and your heart is in your throat as you expect to be battered, but they don’t come. They don’t come because Logan is in front of you, body jerking as he works to pick you up as wounds form from his back. 

“Holy shit, Logan!” 

“Hold on!” He seethes in pain, holding you close as he gets you both behind another pile of rubble. 

You both have your backs to the scene unfolding, but you know there isn’t much time to stay here. With haste, you unbuckle your belt, flinging it out of the jean loops and wrapping it below the bullet wound. Your teeth sink into the leather, pulling it tightly before securing it. 

You look over at Logan, who is surrounded by the pellets he pushed out from his back. He grunts as one more falls to the ground behind him, and he turns to you with an alertness you’ve become all too familiar with.

“Are you okay?” You ask stupidly, because of course he is.

He doesn’t answer at first, looking at you and then looking back at the destroyed lawn. It causes you to look too, and you can see Hank clobbering one of the Sentinels as he yanks out its wiring. But he’s outnumbered and it’s only a matter of time before they gang up on him. 

“We need to help Hank,” you say, getting ready to stand up before Logan’s hand grabs you by your jean loops.

Logan’s hands are on your face, holding it still as to keep your focus on him. There is conflict in the way he looks at you; a conflict that says you won’t agree with what he’s about to do next. You can read him so easily, and what you are reading makes you uneasy.

“No, Logan…” 

“Sweetheart, I need you to stay right here.” His eyes are saying so much more in relation, telling you why he’s asking you this. You know he has lost too much, and to lose it all before it’s even started isn’t in the cards for him. Still, you can’t help the stubbornness that begs to fight with him.

“I’m not leaving you defenseless out there.” 

“Then defend us from here,” Logan says firmly, mind unchanging. “I will not lose you here. I am not going back to a future where you don’t exist.”

It’s quiet for a second, words processing in your head. You knew he loved you, but to see it run so deep at his declaration made you want to cry. How is it a man that you haven’t known for long, can have such an effect on you? How is it that a part of him already runs so deeply inside you? It leaves you with the conclusion that if you are feeling all of this after a few days, then what he must be feeling is tenfold after a lifetime. 

Your hands go to his face, mirroring him as you two stare at each other. He’s waiting for you to accept what he is asking, eyes moving back and forth slightly like he is trying to read your response. You sigh deeply, swallowing the pill he wants you to take before you pull him down to your lips to seal your acceptance. 

He grunts in surprise, but shortly after melts against you. It’s a kiss molded into words, one that says “thank you” and in kind says “I’ll see you after this is all over”. It’s a kiss that says even when there truly is no time left, there is always time for this, for you, for him.

You pull away, eyes watering as you look at the man who will ultimately become your world and your savior in ways you can’t begin to fathom. You give him one more good look, one more stroke of your thumbs against his facial hair, before dropping your hands to surrender. 

“You come back to me safe,” you assert. “I will do as much as I can from here.”

Logan responds by kissing your lips again, placing three quick kisses in succession before standing up to run off towards the mess. You peek over from your hiding spot, and you see two of the Sentinels on the ground in its robotic guts. You hear Hank roaring to your left, seeing him fly to the ground onto his back. The Sentinel he was fighting approaches, armed and ready to fire. 

You clench your teeth as you put your arms out, the wounded one shooting signals to your brain that it aches terribly. However, you push through, focusing on the Sentinels mechanics and the timely energy around it. You watch it slowly come to a stop, and you see Hank look your way before you nod your head to tell him to get the job done.

You watch him spring into action, hands digging into the skull before ripping the head off. You let go, with the Sentinel now inactive, and turn to see Logan with his claws out digging into the chest of another one. His clawed fists go in and out over and over, the automaton down. 

You go back and forth between Hank and Logan, ensuring them the time they need to defend themselves safely. It’s a smooth rhythm, and you think things are going well, but then you see Erik appear a few feet away from Logan with metal pieces floating in the air. You go to stop Erik in his tracks, but then you hear running in your direction. 

“Run!” You hear Hank yell, and you turn to see him sprinting away from two Sentinels. 

“Shit!” You curse, and in the blink of an eye you are running with him, bullets hot on your trail.

You run with purpose, dodging whatever the Sentinels sent your way, but your attention was focused on Logan, who was cutting away at any metallic pieces Erik threw at him. It was a dance, every step forward meant a step back, and from what you were witnessing Logan was the better dancer. However, Erik has always been good at catching up.

The Sentinels are gaining ground, and you knew something had to give. They were doing what they were created for, and they wouldn’t stop now, not at this rate. You look at Hank as you both push on, and he looks back at you as he feels your eyes on him.

“We need to split off!” You yell at him. “You go towards that car over there, and I’ll go the opposite way.”

You both diverge, running away from one another in the hopes of confusing the Sentinels. You don’t hear bullets in your space anymore, but it causes you to look and see Hank surrounded. You go to stop them, but then a gasp shoots from your lungs as you feel metal wrap around your wrists. Next thing you know, you are hanging in the air.

You are thrashing, wrists bound tightly. You see Erik approaching you, and you panic but not because he is approaching you. It’s because you don’t see Logan.

Fuck, where’s Logan?

“I’m sorry, my little timelord,” Erik says with a hint of an actual apology. “This is what happens when you don’t choose a side.”

“I did what was best for me. No one else,” you grit out. You can feel blood start to trickle down your arm, the stretch opening your wound further.

“I guess you’ll see how that turns out for you.” Erik sets you onto the ground with a thud, and suddenly you feel metal coil around your neck. You start to feel the pressure against your throat, making your eyes bulge.

“No need to be scared, my dear. Just need you out of the picture for a few hours.” Your airways are getting crushed. Your hands are desperately trying to remove themselves from the makeshift cuffs, but to no avail. 

The coughing fits start, lungs eager for some relief, but they cry out when none comes. It’s strange to feel your lifespan waning, yet have your mind linger elsewhere.

Please be okay. God, please let Logan be safe.

As if your prayers were answered, you hear him in the distance. You can hear him shouting your name, and you ache at the sound. You are relieved, yet there is a sadness that sticks in your foggy brain. It almost makes you think that soul bonding is an actual force within the universe because you can tell what he is feeling. You can tell he feels like he is witnessing your death a second time. 

The bondage of metal weakens, air filling your lungs at full capacity. Your hands automatically go to your throat, rubbing the raw skin as you inhale and exhale. Your bearings are dispersed, and you work to gather all the pieces so you can see what is happening. It isn’t until you hear Logan yelling in pain, followed by grunts that rip from his gut, that you shoot up. Your eyes focus and what you see burns your chest as you let out a scream that processes faster than your mind can.

Metal rods pierce Logan’s body, curling into his legs and up his chest. They enter and exit like thread, and his facial expression is one of agony. His head turns towards you, his eyes screaming for you to look away and to run and never look back. However, your fears, your anger, your love for him is overcoming and it doesn’t take long for you to snap.

Your body screams as you move to your knees and throw your arms up, the aches telling you to stop wearing yourself further. Your power is straining, but your emotions are fueling the fire. No amount of pain will ever amount to the pain of losing Logan. 

You slam your fists to the ground, a ricochet from the impact spreading. Time stops in motion, the waves of your power spreading and catching everything in its wake. The pain increases, but you don’t care about that. You only care about Logan.

Everything is still aside from Logan’s body shakes. You run to him, falling to your knees to get closer. Your energy is depleting as you hold onto time, making your mind race to figure out what to do to help him. Your hands keep going to touch the rods, but back away every time he shudders with discomfort.

“Logan, tell me what to do,” you plead. “Tell me what I need to do to get these out.”

“Fuck…” Logan is working his jaw, seemingly trying to calm himself down. “Try pulling on one.”

You nod, placing both hands on a rod buried in his back. You counted down from three, and with a deep breath you pulled as hard as you could. The second Logan started yelling though, you let go.

“Shit! Please stop!” Logan shouts, the metal rods excruciating.

“Logan, we need to get these out of you please.” You were starting to sob; your hands running over his neck and face to try and soothe him.

“Sweetheart, please,” Logan grunts, trying not to move too much. “I promise you this won’t kill me.”

“But you are suffering,” you whisper, tears staining your face as new ones form. “I can hold this just please. You have to push them out or something.”

Something changes in Logan’s face, a sense of realization as you watch his eyes widen. A broken laugh leaves his lips, eyes glossing. “I finally understand.”

“W-what?” You stutter.

“I desperately wanted to save you, and I couldn’t. You had begged me not to, and I couldn’t fathom it.” He starts to cough, groans filling the cracks. “But I understand now. I’m sorry for not understanding before.”

“Please don’t,” you choke. “That doesn’t matter. What matters now is getting these out of you.” 

Your hands go to the rods again, but his hand grabs yours before you make contact. You are sure you look pitiful, especially as you aren’t one to beg. You guess when feelings get so strong, it doesn’t matter. Your heart is fully on your sleeve for Logan to see, and what you are showing is reflected in his pretty, glossy, hazel eyes. 

“I need you to promise me something, sweetheart,” Logan says gently. “I need you to promise me that you will find me.”

“Where? Where will I find you?” Your voice wavers, unable to keep your emotions at bay. 

“You know I can’t say, baby.” Logan’s hand squeezes yours, trying to be reassuring. “But you have before. I know you will find me again.”

You don’t know what to think of that. It could be years before you find him. Will it be right before the world goes to shit? Will it be in a decade or two from now? How can you go on living your life as normal when you don’t know when you will find him? Or how can you live knowing he isn’t right beside you?

“Don’t overthink this. Everything will be okay.”

You sniffle as you look at him, a tired smile on his face. A small laugh passes through your sobs. “Not very in character for you to be optimistic.”

“And it will be the last time you see me so optimistic for a long time,” Logan smirks. “But you can change that.”

You get on your stomach, moving so your face is level with his and kiss him one last time. It’s bittersweet, tasting him on your tongue. You hope you are conveying the answer he is looking for, one that tells him you promise to move heaven and earth for him. One that tells him you promise you are his, and no one will ever have you for as long as you both live. A promise that tells him you will find your way home to him, and you will bring him home to you.

You let go, breath wavering as you know what you are about to witness. Even with his reassurance, it will be hard to watch, and you know the tears will fall. It is inevitable.

“Baby, go find Charles. Make sure he is okay and stick with him. Once you find him, let me go.”

You nod, pecking his lips one more time before getting up to your feet. You look at him, taking in every detail that imprints your memory, making sure to never forget that the man before you is your soulmate for life.

“I love you, Logan.” You say with teary eyes. 

“I love you. I’ll see you soon.” He smiles, before closing his eyes, preparing himself.

You quickly run off, afraid that if you didn’t you wouldn’t allow yourself to. You run over to the giant terrain of rubble where Charles was, and you see him lying there frozen like everything else. You maneuver into his spot, a tight fit with enough room for you to situate yourself. You look back out onto the field, and you quiver as you see Logan lying there just waiting as he suffers in pain. You look down, eyes squeezing tight before you snap your fingers, a heavy weight off your shoulders as you suck in a deep breath.

“Oh darling, when did you get in here?”

You open your eyes to see Charles, breathing heavier than usual as he lays in discomfort. You work to prop him up, holding onto him so he can sit up right. It is at that moment you hear yelling, and you look back out to see Logan in the air with Erik holding his metallic weight. You want to look away, unable to bear the sight, but they stay glued to them. Then, you see Erik flex his fingers.

As you watch Logan fly away, your lungs urge a cry to curl out into the atmosphere, but you suppress it. After everything, you have faith in him. He gave you the faith you needed to believe everything will turn out alright. Even as you watch Erik yank the bunker up from the ground and out the White House, you have faith that the future will be safe, because you won’t let Logan down. You have a promise to keep.

Logan has become your Orion; your guiding star. He has become your alpha and your omega. He is your sole mission in this life, and he is not a mission you plan to fail.

You will set things right, and you will find him. 

Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters; Westchester, NY; Year 2023

The first time ever I saw your face…

Music. Soft, calming music enters his conscience. He’s heard this melody before in the same fashion, but that was forever ago, right? 

I thought the sun rose in your eyes…

Logan stirs, his brain doing a leap and a jump from REM sleep as it tries to wake up. He has lived this moment before, as the music says he has. Is he back to where he started? Or is it something else?

And the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave…

Where is he? The last thing he remembers was drowning. Metal pierced his body so deep he could taste it with freshwater. It should linger, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t taste anything abnormal. He’s on a bed. Did someone save him? Whose bed is this? 

To the dark and the endless skies…

His eyes open, sunlight shining brightly as they adjust. The room is familiar, and it dawns on him that it’s because it is his room. Their room. 

He turns to his side slowly, his body still adjusting to whatever the fuck it was he’s waking up to. He sees the little radio on the bedside table, the holographic globe spinning as the words “Golden Oldies” glide around it. 

And the first time ever I kissed your mouth…

Holy shit… he did it. 

Suddenly, the door opens, and nothing could have prepared him. 

“Hey, sleepyhead!”

There you were in all your glory. You were dressed for the day: a tight and long black velvet skirt with a short black sleeve shirt and black combat boots. There are little crow's feet and bunny lines by your eyes and your hair has grown out. He is starstruck, and his heart is threatening to leap out of his chest.

You walked up to him, your legs touching the bed as you looked down at him. “I know I look good. No need to let the flies in.”

Logan shuts his mouth, moving to sit up. There are so many things he wants to say, do. But nothing will come out. All he can do is stare and bumble like an idiot.

“You know it’s nine, right? You missed your first class.” 

His class?

“What?”

“Don’t worry, Lo. Your students got a little lesson from me about 70s music culture, so they weren’t totally out of a history lesson.” You say with a wink.

He doesn’t respond, eyes mesmerized as you walk over to the desk, putting away folders from what he assumes was the previous class.

“Can you believe these kids know nothing about the Ramones? Or even ELO or Fleetwood Mac? It’s blasphemous.” You shut the drawer, and go to lean back against the desk, smiling at him.

“I’ll get up, baby. Don’t you worry about me.” You say in a mock deep voice, pushing yourself off the furniture. “Last night must have really worn you out for you to sleep like the dead.” 

You are giggling and Logan is on edge. You are here. You are alive. He was hopeful that would be the case, but to see everything come to fruition was a lot to process. 

“Lo, baby, are you okay?” You are in front of him, moving in between his legs. 

He can’t help himself. He has his arms around your thighs, pulling you onto his lap. His hand secures itself at the nape of your neck, bringing your head down to his so his lips can intercept yours. Your skirt has ridden up, scrunching up at your ass giving Logan the chance to mold his hand into the flesh. He kisses you with ferocity, needing everything from you.

“Logan,” you laughed between his kisses. “I can’t believe you want to go again after last night, you dog.”

“You’re here,” Logan groans against your lips. “My baby, you’re here.”

“Of course I’m here. Why wouldn’t I be?” Your hands scratch his head, and he simpers as his mouth attaches to your neck, sniffing your pulse point as he keeps you firmly against him. You smell so good, so much so he wants to soak you into his skin.

“You are acting so strange right now, baby. Are you sure everything is okay?”

Logan lays his head against your chest, listening to your heart flutter away. He could cry listening to it, the comforting sound creating a lullaby that will lull his sore head to rest. It’s different hearing it now, knowing that when he wakes up once more, you will be here. You will be by his side when he goes to sleep at night, and when he wakes up. He will share every sunset and sunrise with you, something he will never take for granted for even a second. 

He feels your hands cradling his head, keeping it steady as he starts to rock you in his arms. “What are you thinking, Lo?”

He lifts his head to look at you, your eyes full of warmth. You are looking at him with such patience and poise. Your hands are still on his head, and he goes to move them to his temples. 

“Shift my mind.”

“Logan,” you say, taken aback and unsure but he quells your worry with another slow kiss.

“Trust me,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I need you to understand what I am feeling right now.”

He shuts his eyes, hoping you will indulge him and he smiles when he feels the warmth at his temples spread. He thought his mind going back to his last memory of drowning would cause panic, but he is calm. Maybe it’s because you are able to keep him afloat as you rewind what played out.

It is short lived, but soon he feels your hands go down to the scruff of his facial hair. He opens his eyes and he sees the tears welling in your eyes with a smile. 

“My God, you did it. You remember,” you choked out. Logan can’t help but smother your lips again before kissing your tears away.

“You did a lot of the heavy lifting, sweetheart.” Logan chuckles against your skin. “But most importantly,” he pulls away, hands going to your face to make sure you understand how sincere he is. “You found me. Just like you promised me.”

“I said I would,” you say through tears. “I was determined to find you. To share this life with you.”

This life. A life with all the good things and even the bad ones. A life that he gets to live with you. This new life: a second chance. With this second chance, he isn’t going to waste it. 

“Close your eyes,” Logan says with a peck.

You shut them, and he carefully sets you on the bed for him to stand up. He rushes to the bookshelf, hoping that in this new timeline he was smart enough to have gotten the one thing that showed complete and utter devotion. Even more so, he hopes he hid it where he originally had. 

He finds the royal blue spine, pulling it out to open to the first few pages before the hole within the book is revealed. His lips turn with a quiver, seeing the ring just as it was before. He picks it up, holding it out in the sunlight to watch the diamond sparkle and the gold ban shine. It’s simple but you were never one for extravagant things. After a life of running free, you wanted the simple life and that is exactly what he will give you.

He walks back around the bed, getting on his knees to settle between your legs as he spreads them. Your skirt rode up again and he can’t help but kiss your left thigh and give the other a squeeze. The sweetest noise comes from you, and it only makes him nip at the skin. 

“God, you are such a tease.”

“I can’t resist,” he hums before lifting his head. He holds out the ring and with care takes your left hand in his right. 

“Go ahead and open those pretty eyes for me.” 

He watches your eyes flutter open, a gasp falling from your lips when your eyes fall onto his palm. Your fingers instinctively went to it, and Logan held it more towards you to let them grace the ring. 

“I’ve thought about how I’ve wanted to do this so many times,” Logan starts. “So much so that I pushed it off until it was too late. I will not make that same mistake twice.”

“Logan,” you say with your fingers trailing to his face, as if telling him nothing is his fault. He knows.

“I know I have so much to catch up on and learn. There will be things I am not aware of. You may be different, and I may be different,” He takes the ring and your left hand, holding it near but not quite enacting the officiality. “But the one thing that will never change is how you will always be at the forefront of my mind because I am nothing without you. At the end of the day, I want to come home to you as your husband and you as my wife if you will have me.”

This is such a vulnerable moment, and there was a time where it would eat him up alive. However, being right here with you, proposing to you in this shared room under the light of the morning, encourages him like nothing else. Vulnerability with you gives him strength.

You are biting your lip, eyes watering again as you nod your head profusely. “Put that ring on my finger, handsome.”

He slides the ring onto your ring finger, settling into place perfectly. You held it up, and he watched as you admired the piece, the sparkle of the diamond reflecting in your eyes. It sparks you to look back at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and he notices you shift until your lower body pushes him onto the floor. Your arms bring him in, his head meeting yours as lips reconnect once more.

“I love you so much, Logan. I am truly the luckiest woman alive.” 

All he can think is if you were the luckiest woman, then he is the luckiest man. One decision could have led to a world in which you didn’t exist or one where you two would just be specks living completely different lives. To have woken up in a new world, one that’s more promising, is luck after the hell he had experienced. Having you here in his lap, kissing him like he is the center of your universe, makes him weep with joy. 

You are his world, and in this new life, rather than the world stopping, it continues to spin forward.

[morganbritton132]

I’m thinking about Steve’s mom in the context of this AU I’m (apparently) creating where Steve is the affair baby that broke up his much older half-siblings’ family.

Put yourself in the shoes that his mother would’ve been in. You’re nineteen. You have no education and you’re working your first real job. You start an affair with your boss - who is the father of the friend that got you the job - because you’re young and you think you’re in love, and you don’t think of the consequences.

Suddenly, you’re pregnant and he’s leaving his wife for you, and you still think you’re in love so you follow his lead. You’re nasty to his first wife because he is and you’re insecure because she nothing but nice to you. Her children hate you but Richard says that they’ll get over it so you believe him. They never do.

Then you’re married and you have access to more money than you’ve ever had in your life, and you’re in love. And you’re a mother. He sleeps through your delivery but everything is okay when you hold your little boy.

You know that things have changed now. That you’ll do everything in your power to make sure this little boy makes it in the big scary world. You promise yourself that you’ll do anything for him.

The baby cries, and you cry, and you thought things would be different and that you’d know what to do, but you really don’t. You don’t feel a connection with your baby beyond wanting to protect him, and you hate this. You hate being a mother. You hate this constant failing.

Richard is never home. He still works long hours but you’re no longer at the office with him. He seems completely disinterested in being a father and less interested in you playing mother, and you’re not stupid.

You know he left his wife for a younger, more attractive woman. You know he fell in love with you because you’re passionate, you’re fun, and you haven’t been that in a while.

You stood smug and happy by his side while he tried to take everything in the divorce, and you know his first wife has more money and influence than you. You know she has lawyers and you don’t. You don’t know what happens to you if he wants a newer model. You don’t know what happens to your son but you think he’ll try to take him from you.

Richard doesn’t want to be married to a mother, so you stop being one. You have to for the marriage to survive and it feels like guilt to be relieved by that. You’re not his secretary anymore, but his assistant. You travel with him and you join the right committees. You join the walking club and you shed the last of the baby weight, and he loves more than he ever has.

And you’re happy but you’re not in love.

It was too easy to pass motherhood onto Richard’s daughter, onto the nanny. It was easy to sidestep into the role of ‘friend,’ so you befriend your son.

Not a close friend. Not in any way that would make Richard feel like he wasn’t your world, but you’re there. You know the drama currently happening on the basketball team but not that your baby is failing English. You go on spa dates and make a whole day out of getting your hair cut together, but you don’t discipline him. Richard does that.

Then one day, you come home from the Poconos and your son has bruises on his face and bandages on his fingers, and a haunted vacant look in his eyes. He job was a pile of burning rubble when you drove into town. You asks what happened and if he’s alright, and he’s gives you the same smile you’ve been wearing for years, “Everything’s great, ma.”

[xmoriartea]

SVSSS!Sibling Transmigration 2: Electric Boogaloo

a continuation of this nonsense that ya'll seemed to enjoy

While Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe hold hands and jump into the abyss, Airplane is left holding no pizza with the sect on fire (and him-damnit. He could really use a pizza right now)

Shang Qinghua helped organize the Immortal Alliance Conference fiasco, but with his brother's guidance and Mobei Jun's shocking willingness to listen to both of them, Cang Qiong suffers only two losses that day: LBH and SY (none of the other major sects are so lucky, shifting even more power into Cang Qiong (and thus SQH/MBJ)'s sway as they planned)

Shen Jiu (named Qingqiu now ofc, but still Jiu-ge to SY) does not handle his part in this well at all. Did he shove LBH into the abyss? He would say no. He just maneuvered an awakening and unstable Heavenly Demon away from his brother. (Bro did NOT account for said brother to throw himself at LBH and basically take both their asses into the abyss. Not even Airplane saw that one coming tbqfh)

So yeahhh. SJ is not handling this well. While his brother is missing SJ qi deviates no less than two times which has Qing Ding and every peak lord walking on eggshells. No one mentions either of his missing disciples unless absolutely necessary around him. Unfortunately, he spends entirely too much time researching the abyss, tearing through every tome on the peaks

When the lords try to discuss a way to help SJ's instability, the mention of dual cultivation is floated once and while YQY is hand on the trigger to volunteer as tribute, the vehement refusal from SJ has YQY declaring it off limits without hesitation (there are some murmurs about this, but YQY takes pride in protecting SJ and shuts everyone down)

Airplane and SY know each other well enough that he knows SY would be devastated if something happened to SJ (he knows SY had siblings, that he misses them, that his heart aches twice for the family here and home and he won't let him come back to an empty bamboo house. Airplane knows the pain of an empty home and he will find something in his brain to fix it)

This leads to one tense conversation with SJ like "Look I know you fucking hate me but for SY's sake please just listen one time: your brother is coming home. I don't know how exactly, but we both know he's too stubborn not to" (this does not endear him to his villain son, but he would swear SJ glares a little less at him after)

There is then a Sun-Moon Dew Mushroom tier research saga but it's Airplane alone digging through tomes and notes and getting a little xianxia stoned to try and remember the obscure world building he created. (You know what he remembers? That's he created TOO MUCH world building shit while three energy drinks deep at 2am for any one man to remember!! Cucumber-bro get back here!!)

Meanwhile MBJ is playing a differently game entirely while every cultivator is stressed out of their minds. He's got a spy who is assisting him with power grabs that his father would never have imagined. He's courting a pathetic little mouse of a man. LBH is not a name that means anything yet. MBJ is THRIVING. Everyone else is in a drama and he's in a dating sim

And with two Shangs? The first time he does something too aggressive-demonic in his attempt to court a flailing sleep deprived Airplane, SQH is there to be like 'wtf do you think you're doing you beast?' Does SQH nearly get his ass beat for this insult to his king? Maybe a little bit. But!! Airplane gets woo'd! Without bloodshed!! (his own anyway. SQH picks his battles and cannot pry MBJ's desire to hunt big, rare game to prove his worth as a partner to Airplane which ofc leads to moments of the Shang brothers just standing over the corpse of some ancient-possibly-mythical beast just... in their living room on An Ding like 'wtf do we do with this? my king pls')

Of course, the plot finds everyone eventually. And however the fuck it happens, MBJ crosses path with a power-grabbing LBH, is forced to surrender to return home alive to his consort-to-be (MBJ is waiting for the MBJ title to be 100% his before cementing the courtship), becomes second in command to this brat, and goes home to his Shangs to lick his wounds (MBJ does not expect Airplane to shake his face and demand to know if there was a human cultivator with this half-demon brat and then demand to be taken to them if so when MBJ just 'wtf' stares)

Turns out, several years in the abyss even for the protagonist and a man who knows far too fucking much about abyss nuances for a human is still not an easy time Being human in the abyss? It's a dinner bell for every big monster that SY wants to just observe like the worst tourist. LBH cannot figure out why his shixiong keeps putting himself in danger like this (shixiong!! if you know the deadly thing is hiding in this swamp what if!!! we didn't!! go in the goddamn swamp shixiong!!!) But! That abyss knowledge is hard to beat. SY is able to guide LBH through safe routes and help guide him on his demonic journey (LBH ofc asks how his shixiong knows about any of this and SY panic changes subjects like a dozen times. Even in the back of LBH's head Meng Mo is like 'kid IDFK what this brat is but it's not normal and I need you to 1. understand that and 2. do not let him get away') And you know what is great for SY (and by extension LBH)? SY isn't juggling a persona that isn't his. He's allowed to come to terms with himself and his feelings on his terms. He gets to watch his white lotus LBH fight alongside him in the abyss and save his life and oh. OH. Maybe. Maybe he can have this? (SY being SY is still like PLOT EXISTS!! HAREM!! WIVES!! And look. He figures his own shit out a little bit, he's still a blind bastard. He doesn't notice how many wife plots he and LBH have stumbled into together, or how many LBH has skipped entirely. He can just be part of the harem, that's fine. He can live with that. Totally normal thoughts) LBH meanwhile can't even spell harem cause he only has eyes for this weird wonderful shixiong of his Given that the plot is a mess (happening, sure, but a MESS) they stumble into a new wife plot in the abyss (How was SY supposed to know full humans triggered nonsense plots down here?? It's not like LBH's human wives were ever down here with him!!) and so SY might be dying a second time. (Whoops! Whoops! Whoops! (Hey System? STFU if you have nothing useful to offer thank you!!!) But you know what could help this mortal cultivator trapped in the abyss? Demon qi. You know who has a lot of demon qi he doesn't know what to do with?? Best boy Binghe, that's who (they're both young and awkward and SY is dying and Binghe can't lose him. He can't be left alone again. It's declaration and promise and hope and when he kisses his shixiong he wills the transfer of qi between their lips and he can feel the way SY grows stronger in his arms with it) Let's just say that even when they clear the realm of the abyss that threatened SY, LBH still persistently insists that his shixiong share his qi mwah! (SY does not put up half as much complaint as he once might have over his sticky shidi) Also you know SY is going to find some horrific abyssal monstrosity and decide it's just the best and cutest most perfect and loyal pet (it's an honest to god nightmare and everyone they encounter is afraid of it and Binghe shoots it glares whenever it steals his shixiong's affections HOW DARE??) With SY's omnipotent abyss GPS sense and LBH sharing his excess of demon qi with SY, they're able to find Xin Mo, break the seal on LBH's powers, and then continue on his training montage (definitely too unstable to go back to the mortal realm early), also he has a fantastic anchor in SY at his side to soothe the Xin Mo urges and (don't ask shidi, pls he's begging) also teach him how to tame the sword

Cut back to several years of time passing, Airplane squishing his king's face, demanding to know about a human cultivator with this heavenly demon only for MBJ to (still face squished) say he wouldn't call the man at LBH's side human per se but if this is what his Airplane wants, he will take him with him to the meeting LBH has arranged for the following day (now please, let him pout and huff and receive head scritches)

Hey you know how people always get taken aback by Xie Lian being just absolutely filled with ghost qi??? SY is a cultivator, not a god, just a lad trying his best to follow that immortal master path, and he just spent SEVERAL years in the abyss and getting regularly dosed by HEAVENLY demon qi — this boy ain't right anymore, guys. He's definitely feeling some kind of demon-tier different™ after all of this and man is THRIVING because Now That's What SY Calls Lore

Please imagine heavenly demon LBH with a demon-touched SY holding demon court with their weird demon allies when MBJ shows up flanked by two totally human Shangs and the just.... the awkward staring these four members of Cang Qiong do at each other (LBH, oblivious to the spy on the mountain plots, just 'why tf is Shang-shixiong and Shang-shifu here??) (SQH looking at LBH and SY and just taking furious mental notes about these Developments and how this may affect his brother's safety) (SY and Airplane just seconds away from slapping the shit out of each other like cats in a bag just 'where the fuck have you been???' 'what have you done???')

Court gets to proceed as planned, but Consorts Shen and Shang make hasty exits together to figure out just what the fuck has been happening to Airplane's plot (There is minimal sibling-tier beat downs in the process and neither is free from sin)

Airplane explains that SJ is a mess and that they need to do something if SY wants to continue having a brother ('bro, he will go off the deep end soon if he doesn't find you but if he finds you like this BRO WILL GO OFF THE DEEP END!! DO YOU SEE THE PROBLEM??')

Their scheming gets them on the idea the Sun-Moon Dew Mushroom and between both their whipped demons, it's very easy to acquire it, cultivate it, and prepare it for SJ (ofc monster loving son SY shares some with a cute snake he sees, obviously)

SY sneaks onto Qiong Ding with their near ready science project and meets with YQY who is... not thrilled with the demonic influence all over his shidi's brother. But he listens, because end of the day they both care for SJ. SY can't risk SJ having another deviation if he sees him, so he entrusts YQY to present this fix to SJ: a way to repair his broken core and shed the scars of his past (ofc they both know he will be suspicious, but after doing his own research, he would take it in a heartbeat)

When SJ has a shiny new and powerful body, that's when LBH and SY return to the sect. No demon army, no attacks, no Huan Hua bs. Just two lost disciples making their return from the abyss. (There is much distrust. SQH plays his role as well as ever, siding with the other lords that certain tests must be passed to ensure they are not demons--- oh wait one of you IS a demon. and the other has been influenced by that one. Mhhh. Mhmmm. This is fiiiiiine)

SJ doesn't deviate! But he is! Mad! There is much yelling and shouting and disciples are made to run around Qiong Ding peak while every other lord just has to sit through the most chaotic family reunion.

But things can go back to normal from here right? Just casual transmigration, not plot threats? (System? System you're laughing. They're having a nice moment and you're laughing)

[izzyy-stuff]

AFTER CLOSING HOURS - CHOI YEONJUN

lifeguard!yeonjun x fem!reader

in which your friend and the boy she is seeing decide Choi Yeonjun needs to calm his hormones as soon as possible. And what better way is there to do it then show him a pretty girl who can satisfy all his needs?

wc 3.7k

warnings smut, public sex but no one is around, it happens in the pool, unprotected sex, Yeonjun is lowk a hoe ngl, but also a sweetheart, mention of lifeguard!Taehyun, Jay of enhypen mentioned as an ex, reader is implied to be shorter than yeonjun, oral (f. receiving), cum swallowing, brief nipple play, pet names lmk if I missed anything!

↪ izzy speaks... fun fact: lifeguard!Yeonjun was actually my first idea for a fic after I started writing on tumblr, so it has been sitting in my drafts since June. Somehow, there was just always a different fic I wanted to write at the moment, but thanks to y'all voting for it when I made the poll about what you want me to write next, it's finally seeing the day light 🙌

Yeonjun sat on his chair by the pool, just as he would any other day. With his sunglasses high on his nose and a phone in his hands, he did the same as any other lifeguard: absolutely nothing. 

Of course, some would say that he was neglecting his job, that it would be better to hire someone more responsible, someone serious. But the problem was, anyone else, no matter how accountable or not they were, would behave the same he did. Fortunately for him, the pool was sparsely occupied, leaving Yeonjun with little to do during his shifts. One could say that it was part of his job, sitting by the pool and doing nothing.

And, if, for whatever reason, there did turn out to be someone who wanted to drown in the five-foot-deep swimming pool after all, he was always ready to put his phone aside and jump into the water. 

Yeonjun liked the freedom of his job. Even though, honestly, sitting in a chair for six hours in the burning sun every day could also be tiring and boring. 

So boring he almost quit. 

Almost. 

Because as he ended his shift, switching with another lifeguard, and grabbed his resignation papers, so confident he would put them on his boss’ table, he found a reason to stop right in front of her office and turn around again. 

As his eyes landed on the girl lying on her stomach on her towel near the pool, he realized the pros of his job again. One of them being all the gorgeous girls he could sneak glances at. And sometimes, when he was bored enough, take them to his dressing room. 

 ♡⸝⸝  

“It’s basically law that you go to a pool during summer!” You scoff at your friend, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “The law actually is that I get to relax in my cozy apartment now that I finally have time for myself,” you state, and without waiting for her answer, you look down at your book again, re-reading the first sentence on the page. 

“Oh, come on! Please! We have to go!” She pleads, making you groan as you place your bookmark between the two pages and slam it shut, before glancing over at her. “Fine, fine, I’ll go if it means you’ll stop bothering me,” you finally accept defeat with a sigh, creating a grin on her face. “I promise you won’t regret it!” 

New things never excite you as much as others. You liked sticking  to your routine and visiting places you’ve already been to. You aren’t sure why, but you’ve always preferred it that way.

But your friends always thought otherwise, bringing you to new restaurants that opened in town, going on trips to places still unfamiliar to all of you, and now, taking you to the swimming pool they opened last year when you weren’t in town. 

“I just don’t understand why we have to go to this pool. You have a pool at your house! Why couldn’t we have gone there?” You ask her for the millionth time, making her groan in annoyance. “Just wait. You’ll understand once we get there,” is all she says before locking her arm with yours, smirking as she leads you towards the swimming pool. 

 ♡⸝⸝  

“There is your reason,” she says proudly, lowering her sunglasses as she watches the lifeguards switch shifts. You glance the same way she does, raising an eyebrow at the black-haired boy before looking at your friend again. “You wanted to go here because of a boy?” 

“Not just any boy! The hottest guy you’ve ever seen!” She exclaims, watching you roll your eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t find him attractive.” You turn your attention to the male again, examining his features. “Okay, yeah. He’s handsome,” you admit. “But still, that doesn’t mean we should–” 

“His name is Yeonjun,” she interrupts you. “Choi Yeonjun. And I swear you two would look great together.” 

“So this is what it’s about,” you scoff. “You’re unbelievable. Why are you trying to set me up with someone again?” You reach into your bag, bringing out your towel , and wrapping it around yourself  as if it could prove her anything. “I’m happy with how things are now,” you proclaim, well aware of your stubbornness. 

“Oh, come on! You’ve been sex deprived since you broke up with Jay! And trust me, he knows how to fuck,” she assures you, completely serious. “All you have to do is walk confusedly around the kiosks, and he’ll be all yours.” 

You shake your head at her, glancing toward the male again. “Well, your plan couldn’t work even if I wanted to do it, anyway” you state, nodding toward him so she would look the same way. 

He is handsome, you can’t argue with that. And you couldn’t say you would mind getting to know him either, but with his handsomeness came one con. Attractive guys were always too busy. Busy with talking to all the different girls. Busy thinking god knows what of themselves. Even now, you could see him talking to some girl in the pool, a few others surrounding him.

“Oh, hell no. We are going to swim. Right now,” she states, grabbing your hand and basically forcing you out of your chair. “You need to show off.” 

You sigh, throwing your towel back on your bag before following her to the pool, giving up on trying to talk her out of it. You knew you were stubborn, but so was she. And unlike you, she wouldn’t back down until the very end. 

 ♡⸝⸝  

You felt embarrassed. It was pathetic trying to get into his pants like this, but the most embarrassing thing about the whole situation was his stares. You could feel his eyes all over your body. On your legs when you walked out of the pool, on your ass when you walked past him, and on your breast as you put sunscreen on. 

“You have him wrapped around your finger,” your friend laughs, watching the male opposite you on the other side of the swimming pool. You feel your cheeks heating up every time you make eye contact with him, averting your gaze from him immediately. “That’s to not wanting you to set me up with anyone,” you mumble. 

“You’re welcome,” she giggles, looking at the time on her phone. “Alright, my job here is done. The pool closes in twenty minutes. Stay until the end if you want our work to be worth it. Wait until everyone is gone and then go talk to him,” she gives you instructions, and it makes you wonder how many times she has done something like this. There’s especially one question that gets stuck in your head. Was he the one that taught her all of this? 

And trust me, he knows how to fuck. You remember your friend's words, swallowing the lump in your throat as you watch her pack her things. “Wait,” you stop her, hesitating as she turns to you again with a confused look. “Did you…sleep with him before?” You watch her burst into laughter, leaving you confused this time. 

She quickly pulls out her phone, looking for something. “If you are worried about breaking the girls’ code or something like that, relax. This is my lifeguard,” she smiles, proudly showing you a picture on her phone. “Yeonjun is kind of a hoe, though, not going to lie to you. I am not sure who he did sleep with,” she adds. “It was Taehyun’s idea that I could set you two up,” she admits, pointing at the picture on her phone again so you’d know who she is talking about. “He thinks you might be what Yeonjun needs to calm his hormones and finally stick with one girl. And even if you can’t exactly change him, I thought it would be good for you to have a fun night at least.” 

You nod to her, hesitating as you glance at the male again, his eyes still glued to your body. He probably thought he was inconspicuous, too. “This is one of your worst ideas,” you sigh. “But I’ll give it a go. I can’t let your effort go in vain.” 

♡⸝⸝  

“Excuse me, the pool is closing in two minutes,” you look up upon hearing the unfamiliar voice, gulping down to swallow all the stress that brushed over you, before you look around the place, as if you don’t know it is empty by now. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you apologize awkwardly. 

You feel his eyes on your back as you get up to collect your things, biting your bottom lip. Thank god he couldn’t see your face at the moment. “You know, I think the front gate is locked already. So if you wait for me for a bit, you can leave with me through the back,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking around the place, doing his best to hold back and not let his eyes fall on your lower body. 

“Sure,” you nod, the sound of the pool filtration the only thing you heard for a while. “Alright, yeah. You can come with me,” he shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit all over the place today,” he apologized, leading you toward the dressing rooms. 

“More like a bit all over me,” you mumble, a chuckle leaving your lips. You freeze as you watch him stop before you, realizing he can still hear you. “I mean–” 

“If you noticed me, you must have been looking at me too, or am I wrong?” 

“You’re not wrong,” you admit when you notice the hunger in his eyes, looking up at him and trying your best to keep eye contact with him. But honestly, it was hard when his eyes looked like that. At first glance, it felt like innocent boba eyes that you could get lost in, but then you saw the lust, excitement, and arousal behind them, hesitating again. 

A chuckle slips past his lips, making your eyes widen. “You’re cute,” he comments, watching your cheeks turn pink. “What’s your name?” You answer him, doing your best to remain calm as he steps forward. He repeats your name, almost as if trying to see how it sounds on his lips. “I’m Yeonjun.” 

“I know who you are,” you assure him. “A lot of girls seem to know.” 

“I don’t know a lot of girls’ names, though.” You roll your eyes at him, scoffing at how cheesy he sounds. “Don’t you have places to be? I thought you still need to change so we can leave,” you quickly change the topic, knowing you had him where you wanted now. 

“That can wait, don’t you think?” You bite your bottom lip as you gaze him in the eyes again, instinctively nodding. “God and I promised Taehyun I wouldn’t hook up with another girl at work,” he muttered quietly, stepping forward again to get closer to you. You could hear your heart beating faster as you looked at him, regretting your decision immediately. You shouldn’t have listened to your friend. You should have left with her and stayed sex deprived. You should have– 

He interrupts your thoughts by pressing his lips on yours, making your eyes widen. “Was that…okay with you?” He stops, for the first time in a while, finding himself hesitating as he watches you freeze. He never had to question if a girl liked him or what she thought of him. Yet, here he was, rethinking his next moves as if it was the first time he was this close to a girl. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, your hand reaching to the back of his neck and pulling him closer to yourself to kiss him again. “It’s so wrong that your lips taste this good.” He smirks into the kiss, his hand roaming your back while his tongue explores your mouth. It feels weird having his hands all over you, but at the same time, it seems so right. 

“It’s wrong that you’re this gorgeous,” he comments back, his hand sliding under your bottom piece as he grasps your ass, picking you up in one swift movement. You yelp, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist and your hands around his shoulders. Your eyes shake, mostly from excitement, as you watch him, questioning what is going on in his mind. 

He doesn’t say anything, though. His lips land on yours immediately instead as he walks forward, doing his best not to wobble and make you both fall to the ground as his eyes stay close to enjoy the kiss fully. 

When you pull away to take a moment and breathe, you’re back next to the pool, near his assigned place. “So you don’t plan on changing anymore,” you tease him, unable to hide your smile as you watch his face, scanning his features from up close. His lips are pretty, you notice. Pretty is a suitable word to describe him. “I will gladly take you to the changing room and change with you later, but for now, this will be more fun.” 

You’re not sure how it all happened, but the next thing you know, you’re sitting on the pool’s edge, your legs thrown over Yeonjun’s shoulders while his head is buried in between your thighs. You weren’t sure what to expect when he said it “would be more fun,” but after he had jumped into the water, not caring about getting his hair wet, you knew you were in for a ride. 

You pull on his hair, moaning out as his tongue plays with your clit. “Mhm?” He looks up for a second when you do so, his boba eyes making you melt. “N-nothing,” you shake, biting your bottom lip at the sight. He is no longer just pretty. With his wet hair in front of his eyes and your slick on his lips, he is beyond just that. 

He chuckles, diving between your legs again, this time sucking harder. “You’re so pretty,” he mumbles as he licks your core, looking up at you to see your reaction before his tongue makes its way into your cunt, eating you out like a starved man. 

Yeonjun lets you pull on his hair however you want, unbothered by your actions as his hands squeeze your thighs, keeping you in place as he tongue-fucks you, enjoying himself as much as you do. 

“I’m–” your voice breaks in the middle as he goes back to sucking on your clit, sending you over the edge before you can warn him. “Going to cum,” you breathe out, but by the time, his mouth is already covered with your release. “Tastes so fucking good,” he mumbles, licking his lips. He lets go of your thighs, pulling himself up to reach your lips. “So good, princess,” he praises before kissing you. 

“Alright, come in,” Yeonjun whispers softly, letting his legs hit the bottom of the pool again. His hand reaches towards you, and you gladly accept it. He helps you into the water, his hand slowly tracing from your thigh to your back, coming up until he reaches the strings of your bikini top, pulling it off in one swift motion. 

You grant him one sheepish smile full of nervousness, keeping your eyes on him. You were too scared to look away, internally terrified that if you dared to look away, he would disappear. “Is it okay so far?” He wondered, carefully caressing your waist as if he could read your mind. You nod, biting your bottom lip as your hand reaches his chest, your fingertips just so slightly brushing over his nipples. He groans, trying to keep his moans from escaping. 

His hands repeat your motion, twisting your right nipple in his two fingers while he lowers his head to your left one, leaving wet kisses all over your breast. “Jjun,” you gasp as he sucks on your nipple, throwing your head back. You open your mouth to speak again, but all that you’re able to do at the moment is moan. He makes it impossible for you to think straight, especially after you feel his knee between your legs, pressing against your naked core. 

You wrap your leg around his hips, pulling him closer. Yeonjun looks up at you for a moment, smirking when he notices the need in your eyes, caressing your thigh before he makes you wrap your other leg around him, too, pushing you onto the wall. You can feel his bulge against your cunt, and wish he would have taken down his swim trunks a long time ago. 

“You’re so impatient, sweetheart,” he teases, pressing his lips on yours again. You don’t hesitate and kiss him back, opening your mouth to give him better access. Part of you hates how easily he can get you, but you can’t help it and want all of him as soon as possible. You need him to fill you up, fuck you dumb like you haven’t been in a while. 

“It’s your ‘ngh fault,” you breathe out, grinding on his bulge. Yeonjun bites onto his bottom lip, doing his best to keep quiet. It’s safe to say you drove him crazy. “‘M wait–” his breath shakes, and his eyes shut close. He squeezes your thighs, stopping you so he can take his shorts down. 

It’s a new experience, you must admit. You never fantasized about pool sex, but now that the lifeguard was thrusting his cock into you, somehow managing to hit your g-spot on the first try and driving you crazy, you had a completely different opinion on it. You’ll have to repeat it in the future. 

Yeonjun’s hand is firmly pressed against the cold tiles next to you, his lips all over your neck and collarbone while he fucks your orgasm back into you. You tried to keep it in, wait for him to reach his climax too, and then cum together, but it was impossible to control anything when he was this good. Even though the thought of it disgusted you, you could see he had the experience as his reputation promised. 

“So perfect,” he blabs another praise, sucking onto the skin on your neck. You aren’t sure how many praises left his lips by this point, but you know he hasn’t stopped giving you compliments since he thrust into you for the first time. “Could fuck you forever.” 

You don’t answer anything. Instead, you tug on his hair, stealing a kiss from the lifeguard immediately when he looks up, whining against his lips. You feel him slowing down as his breath gets heavier, making you realize he is about to cum, too. You don’t get the chance to tell him to pull out when he pulls you in for another kiss, but you don’t even mind much, honestly. 

You let him cum inside you, thrust his cum deep into you while listening to his groans and whines, a few more praises leaving his lips before he finally pulls out of you. You whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness, your legs giving up as you fall into his arms, making him chuckle. “You were so good, princess. So good,” he coos, rubbing circles on your back. “You’d tell anyone that,” you mumble, and before you can even realize you said it out loud, he sits you on the edge again, opening your legs and placing himself between them, looking up at you. “I don’t usually talk with the girls I fuck here,” he proclaims, his eyes as sincere as they can be. “Don’t know their names either,” he says, adding your name to prove his point. 

“What are you trying to say?” You ask, your cheeks heating up. He had just fucked you, and yet, it was somehow embarrassing having him stand between your legs while you looked down at him. “I don’t tell anyone that,” he assures you. “Just like I don’t want any girl’s number.” 

Your eyes widen, and you have to avert your gaze from him. “But I am sure you make every guy feel like this,” he rests his chin on your thigh, keeping his eyes on you. “Like what?” You ask, trying not to pay much attention to the fact your cheeks are red. 

“Totally crazy,” Yeonjun proclaims, as if it was obvious. You scoff, thinking he is just making fun of you. But when you glance down at him, he seems as serious as one could be, making you gulp. “You’re the one driving me crazy,” you admit, biting your bottom lip. 

“We can drive each other crazy then,” he suggests softly, finding your hand and taking it into his. His fingers intertwine with yours, and you think you might fall for him right then and there. “I can’t possibly fuck anyone else now that I got a taste of you.” 

You don’t say anything to him, refusing to let him sway you so easily. But when you finally leave the pool and get into his dressing room, his lips are all over your body again, begging you to at least consider calling him again, preferably as soon as possible. “Fine, fine, I’ll think about it. But I probably won’t call you,” you sigh, watching him type his number into your phone. “I am not looking for sex with no attachments.” 

His ears perk up at your statement. This is his chance, he thinks. Chance to finally prove to Taehyun that he can have a serious relationship if he wants to. “Let me take you on a date then,” he offers. 

You sigh again, but the more you think about it, you don’t see a reason why you should reject him. So you nod, sharing your number with him, too, so he can text you later. Part of you knows it might be just a waste of your time. Yeonjun is kind of a hoe, you remember your friend’s words, but it doesn’t shake you. You want to give him a chance.

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Smutmas 2024 | ᴛᴏᴍ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ᴍᴜɢɢʟᴇ ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

We will meet again. | pt 2

Short summary: Ever since you had met Tom, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. He was mysterious and intriguing in the best possible way – if only he hadn’t disappeared out of nowhere at the Christmas market. It’s two weeks later now and you intend to spend Christmas Eve by yourself. Or will you?

Warnings: 18+ only! stalker!Tom, dub con, rough sex, extreme choking, impact play, degradation, biting, bondage, slight blasphemy ig, unprotected p in v, no aftercare

A/N: All I want for Christmas is… uhhh…

wordcount: 2,9k

part one | part three

Nobody messes with Tom Riddle’s head.

Especially not a muggle girl.

He let his guard down that day, something that hadn’t happened in a long time. You intrigued him in the worst possible way– an odd feeling he wasn’t used to blooming in his chest. One that only got stronger every time he had looked into your beautiful eyes, one that he couldn’t seem to let go, one that distracted him any time he wanted to simply read a book or study.

It has been driving him close to insanity.

Two weeks have passed since your encounter at the Christmas market and he had since found out where you lived, when you arrived home after work and, most importantly, he had a well worked out plan where he would teach you a little lesson.

Christmas Eve.

Fourteen days ago you met Tom, and he has never left your mind since. He has even followed you in some of your dreams. The necklace – you don’t wear it. Too much of a reminder of how he just left you behind, essentially having your friends think you’ve gone crazy as you rambled on about this tall, handsome stranger who you swore was just sitting there next to you on the bench. Without paying it any further attention, you have put the jewellery away, somewhere where you were sure you wouldn’t have to encounter it again for the next few months.

You live in your own apartment, within a small living room currently decorated with a middle-sized Christmas tree. The smell of pine needles and gingerbread hangs thick in the air, altogether creating a pleasant holiday feeling which perfectly fits to your tradition of watching a seasonal movie on Christmas Eve.

The season of love and peace doesn’t feel much like it when you have to decorate and organize everything yourself. The past few days have been nothing but tiring, which is why during the movie your eyelids flutter close every few minutes and you have to fight sleep with all your strength. Your exhaustion finally gets the better of you and you decide to head to bed, slipping into your fluffy bunny slippers and turning off the TV. After, you make your way to your bedroom, only the flashing Christmas decorations you had put up leading your way, casting a faint light on the otherwise empty hallway.

You touch the cold metal of the door handle and push down, entering your bedroom. Instead of darkness the dim light of your motion-sensing lamp greets you. It has been bugging often lately, just like the camera surveilling the front door entrance. Not even technicians you had hired could fix the issue – strange, you thought, especially as you have never had problems before. It’s probably due to the chilly weather they told you.

As you take a breath, a strange, yet familiar scent hits your senses. It reminds you of that day at the Christmas market. As you try to figure out where it was from exactly, Tom crosses your mind. It was his perfume, unmistakably, one that was so unique it was easily recognizable. Then, on the other hand, how could-

“You left your front door unlocked.”

A familiar voice, which you instantly make out to be Tom’s, snaps you out of your thoughts. You shriek, turning to face the figure behind you. You weren’t mistaken.

Your blood is rushing through your ears as he’s just standing there, arms behind his back, staring at you. Even in this faint lighting you could swear his eyes have gotten darker than last time you saw him.

“What the-? How did you get in here?” You breathe heavily, furrowing your eyebrows at the sight of how calmly, eerily so, he was standing in the corner of your bedroom.

His lips twitch slightly, almost like he was about to reply, but instead he takes a measured step towards you. “Why aren’t you wearing my present?” he asks, voice low and controlled as his gaze sinks to the exposed skin of your cleavage, scanning it for the silver necklace he had left you in your handbag.

A scoff escapes your lips, and you shake your head. “Now tell me one good reason why I should. We have barely talked. You left without saying anything. I never asked you to come back either, especially not by breaking into my house.”

It wasn’t exactly true – of course you have been thinking about him. About how he caught your attention so easily in the first place, how different he was to other men. You even have dreamed of him. Yet, you weren’t a person to just simply forgive and forget.

“Leave, just like you did two weeks ago. You have no business being in here anyway.”

Tom’s expression doesn’t change as he stands still for another moment. Though, he then quickly advances toward you and before you can react properly, he grabs your arm and pushes you back against the cold wall of your bedroom, pinning you in place with his body.

“I am not going to leave any time soon.” He snarls as his hand wraps around your throat, just enough to feel your pulse under his touch. You have been messing with my head. And you know what happens to people that mess with my head?”

“Bad things. Horrible, in fact.”

You avoid his piercing gaze best as you can. “Well,” you huff, “that is not my fucking-“

Smack.

You hiss, head whacking to the side as his palm strikes your cheek forcefully, the burning sting radiating through your body. And damn – it shouldn’t make you feel the way it does.

“I am going to scream.” You croak best as you can, though you aren’t quite sure if you could under his firm grip.

“For help?“ he taunts, his lips curling up in a smug grin, “I would like to see you try.”

“I know what you have been dreaming of the past two weeks. Exactly this, isn’t it? My hand wrapped around your pretty throat, fucking you senseless. You can’t hide from me.”

“I have no clue what you-“

You hiss as a sharp pain in your head cuts off your lie, and the world around you shifts into something oddly familiar, a scenery you recognize from one of your dreams you had two nights ago.

It was you and him after your encounter at the Christmas market, but instead of disappearing, he had come home with you.

Not only that, though.

“God Tom, please!” You whine, lifting your hips from the mattress to meet his harsh thrusts, desperately chasing your high as he hits all the right spots that have your vision blur.

He looks so perfectly messy like this – sweat glistening on his skin, his beautiful brunette curls sticking to his forehead as he looks down at you with hazy, lust-filled eyes. The most raw and gorgeous groans come from his slightly parted lips, and you swear that sight alone would push you over the edge soon enough.

“Tell me what you need, and I will give it to you.”  Tom encourages, sucking marks into the tender skin of your neck.

“Need you to choke me. Please.” You manage, and his hand tightly wraps around your throat in an instant, as though he was waiting for those exact words to spill over your lips.

“Anything for you.”

And just like that, the scenery shifts again. You whimper as the stinging pain in your head disappears, and you are met with the brunette staring right at you with a cruel smirk, his face inching closer to yours until he is merely a breath away.

“It would be oh so cruel of me to deny you-“ Tom rasps, his voice laced with sarcasm as his hand finds its way under your skirt, “what you have been craving for so badly, don’t you think?”

A nod. A nod is all you can manage in return. You don’t even have time to question whatever just happened, inhaling shakily as his hand travels up your bare thigh, thumb brushing over the damp spot on your panties. Tom furrows his eyebrows and groans, lowly, at the feeling of your arousal on his finger.

“This turns you on? You are more pathetic than I thought.”

The firm grip he has on your throat softens, and your lungs finally expand with oxygen as you suck in a deep breath. He takes out a weird looking stick from inside his coat and mutters something for you inaudible. Just a second later your clothes are neatly folded on the floor and you stand there – half-naked, merely your lace underwear left on your otherwise exposed figure. You gasp in surprise and instinctively try to cover yourself, however Tom is quicker, grabs your wrist and sits you down on the soft mattress of your bed. Then, he does the same thing again, to himself this time.

Your eyes widen, trying to comprehend whatever just happened right in front of your eyes. “How- who are you? Some kind of magician?”

The brunette huffs, pushing you down onto the velvety sheets of your bed. “I am much more than a mere magician.”

And this time, he would let you keep the memory.

Before you can reply anything, he hovers above you, trailing kisses down your neck. Not like those you are used to from past experiences, though. They are rough and full of hunger, teeth grazing your skin, biting down here and there, practically marking you up as his own. Just like those dreams you have had.

Tom trails lower, stopping right at the swell of your breasts. “Still wearing too much.” He mutters under his breath, but it’s too late when you realize his intention. The material of your bralette rips with a sharp tear as it gives way to the force he is applying, the fabric sliding off to each side.

You want to complain, tell him that was one of your favourites, but when his teeth sink into the flesh of your breast any sane thoughts vanish from your mind. “Tom! Are you crazy?!” You shriek, attempting to push his head off you.

“Some people would say insane.” He retorts almost too calmly, lifting his head to answer, though not wasting much time before he dips down again to wrap his lips around your stiffened bud, sucking and biting down on it.

You throw your head back as soft moans escape your parted lips, your fingers raking through his perfect curls, tugging on them just slightly. His hand wanders down your stomach, and with a quick motion your panties are thrown on the floor.

“That is by the way no proper way to undress a woman.” You scold, and his eyes meet yours for a moment.

“You must be utterly delusional to assume I cared about that.”

Shaking your head you reach to the waistband of his briefs to get rid of them, blindly taking his length in your hand while you study his facial expressions. Only when you stroke him up and down, rubbing your thumb over his with precum glistening tip, you notice his size. Fuck.

His hand takes yours, pinning both of them above your head. Tom stills then, his eyes skimming over your naked figure underneath him for a brief moment as though he wanted to imprint your form into his mind forever.

“Keep your hands up there.” He demands lowly, and that is when you feel him aligning himself with your entrance, pushing into you steadily. You gasp at the blissful stretch Tom is providing you, burying his cock in your warm, welcoming walls.

“Season of love and peace, hm?” He rasps, pulling out of you almost entirely. “Let me show you what that means to me.”

A whole lot apparently.

“Because all you have caused me is anger and frustration.”

“Oh fuck- that’s too deep!” You cry out as he thrusts back into you at his last words, with much greater force this time. “Yeah? And I know you love it. Look how greedy you are, sucking me right in. See what a pathetic slut you are for it.”

His demeanour has in the meanwhile changed into something darker, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he mercilessly pounds into your tight cunt. You don’t exactly know what you have done wrong – he left you behind after all, not the other way around. However, who were you to complain if it meant you would get this?

Your hands reach to hold onto him, digging your nails into his skin, mark him like he did with you. A short-lived idea, it turns out. Tom hisses something, a word you can’t quite understand, and your hands return to their position above your head. Securely fastened with invisible binds.

“Wh- oh god! Oh dear god fuck-“ you cry out as he repeatedly hits that one spot deep inside of you that has stars blur your vision, subsequently having his hand wrap around your throat to muffle your moans. Then, his burning gaze meets yours.

“God? Pray to me. I am the only one above you, pray to me.”

Tom’s grip on your throat tightens at that, almost cutting off your airflow entirely.

Dreams do come true, after all.

The sounds of skin slapping against each other fills the room, and the air grows thick with the smell of lust and desire. You get to feel all of him, every single vein, even the slight curve of his perfect length. It all feels too good, too much for you to take. With your hands tied and voice taken away, that though is the only thing you can do – taking it.

“How does it feel-“ he breathes heavily, his dark brown curls sticking to his forehead as he punctuates his question with particularly rough thrusts. “How does it feel to be completely at my mercy, hm? To have me decide whether you get to take another breath?”

You can’t manage a reply, too caught up in pleasure clouding your mind, too focused on the slight sting you get as he brushes your cervix with every thrust as your walls give way to him entirely.

Soon your eyes flutter close, your consciousness slowly fading away under the firm grip he has on your throat. His hand then releases you, instead delivering a harsh smack to your cheek.

He adds another one as you don’t respond immediately.

“Breathe.”

You cough, gasping for air as your vision slowly comes back to you and are met with the brunette glancing down at you. “Doing so well for me.” He groans lowly, his thrusts growing more erratic as you clench around him, feeling your own high building rapidly.

“Please- please I need you to-“ you whine, bucking your hips against his thrusts for more friction. He reaches between you two, thumb finding your clit, rubbing figure eights on it. “S’ that what you need?”

You nod frantically. “Yes, oh Tom-“ your wrists pull at the bindings, but it’s no use. “Come. Come and show me how much of a slut you are for me.”

That’s the only thing you need to hear before the waves of your climax wash over you, repeating his name like a prayer as your cunt greedily pulses around his length, encouraging his release as well.

“I fucking- hate you-“ he grunts, emptying himself inside of you, biting down on your shoulder and collapsing on your spent body afterwards. You two stay like this for a brief moment before he pulls out of you. Tom keeps your legs spread and you whimper softly as his fingers swipe through your glistening folds, gathering some of your mixed arousal before he brings it to your lips.

“Open up. Taste us.” He demands, and you follow his command, taking his digits into your mouth to suck them clean. You never take your eyes off him, and the sight in front of you is heavenly. Tom looks oddly messy like this, hair disheveled, beads of sweat visible on his forehead, lips slightly parted as he breathes. Lord have mercy, you think.

 He withdraws his fingers from your mouth and cleans himself with what you have learned to be his wand. “You are a wizard?” You ask, sitting up to meet his gaze.

Tom nods. “Do not speak to anyone about this. Or I won’t have mercy with you next time.”

You grin. “There will be a next time?”

Just another second later and he stands before you, fully dressed in his black robes, his eyes wandering over your figure and his lips curl into a satisfied smirk. “Maybe. If you wear the necklace.”

You point towards the mess on your sheets and inner thighs expectantly. “Could you-“

“I am quite positive you will be fine.” Tom replies sternly, getting ready to leave.

It’s not that you were expecting him to stay the night, though you couldn’t help but feel disappointed he was leaving so soon. Your eyes follow his tracks, and when he then stands before you to hand you your clothes and a towel, you take the opportunity.

“Would you stay if I wanted you to?” You ask, still hopeful, though you already know the answer.

He shakes his head. “No.”

And so Tom takes out his wand, hesitating for a moment before he turns to face you for one last time.

“Happy Christmas.”

Just like that, he is gone again.

And the necklace? The most beautiful you have ever worn.

tagging for pt 2: @theacreativity @sirenseaborne @tomriddleswhcre