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catyo90 · 2 days

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I already lost you once...

Warning: Logan x F!Reader (Smut) Minors DNI)

In your universe, your Logan was taken from you, not his life, but his memories. He was made to forget who you were by Stryker, one bullet was all it look for him to forget everything about you. And you were tortured every night and day by it. The moment you tried to fix it, to get the life you had with him back for good. The TVA erased you. Took your home, friends, family and lover away with no way of getting out.

That was years ago. You wondered through the void all alone, sometimes running into variants. In that time you never stopped trying to get back to him, that was until you found out your Logan was long since dead, when you met Laura, she was from the same universe as you. She told you everything and offered you to join her and a small band of others to survive in this cruel world.

What choice did you have, little did you know that one day. You would get your chance to see him again.

You woke up grabbing your long black cloak with a matched pair of dark green tube top and army pants, you looked at yourself in the broken mirror, the cold dogs tags you held onto for a moment before leaving. You walked out over hearing Gambit speaking to someone about drinking his whiskey. You sighed as you stood in the doorway, you froze in place as you saw a Deadpool variant looking over to you with curiosity.

"Whoa, and who is this fem fetal who looks like a early 2000s spice girl, which one are you? Oh oh let me guess, Foxy Spice, no wait that doesn't work, oh.." His voice faded as you looked past him, after so long you almost couldn't believe it.

"Logan...?"

His eyes widened a bit as he turned around, and he looked like he had seen a ghost, hell in his world you were, along with everyone else. Everyone was silent, even Deadpool was for once was quiet as he had both hands on his face realizing the look you both shared as you walked up to Logan.

"Y/n..."

You looked into his eyes and saw in them nothing but pain and anguish. The sight of you being alive and well was almost too much for him. And the sound of your name coming off his lips made you shiver. it had been so long since you heard your name said like that.

'I'm a little surprised you know me..." He stepped a little closer as you spoke seeing the same dog tags he wore in his early years. He never would give those away lightly. He knew what you meant to him in your universe. You looked over your shoulder at the others and whispered to Logan.

"We will speak later..." you looked up at him as he nodded in agreement. But before you stepped away you felt him grab your wrist for a moment, you saw his fingers wrap around to touch your pulse. He just needed to know you were actually here and alive and not a damn illusion or hallucination. He let your wrist go as you walked over to Gambit and spoke with him for a moment. Wade snuck in and whispered to Logan.

"If you were waiting for the opportune time to finally get some action in the last 200 years of your life...that was it."

"Will you shut the hell up?!"

"Never. For I am Marvel Jesus and my words are holy."

Logan rolled his eyes as he took another bottle of whiskey as he listened to the made up plan Wade made half assed. As he leaned against the wall chugging down the bottle his eyes couldn't help but wonder to you, and neither could you. Both your glances would met causing you to blush and him to smirk to himself knowing all too well the effect he was having on you.

After the plan was formed and the sun was beginning to set, Blade and gambit decided to have a few drinks together as Elektra was sharpening her twin blades as she watched Laura practicing on the dummies with her own blades. You on the other hand were looking around for Logan, you closed your eyes using your seismic sense, you could see the vibrations in everyone movements and could differ who was who from the the difference is each one, not even Wade was able to surprise you as he popped out form behind leaning a arm against the doorway.

"You looking for a certain beast."

"More like I already found him. Wade. Can I ask you a question about him?"

"Yes, he likes the rough play."

"How do you...never mind..."

'Oh come now child, all confessions to the Marvel Jesus shall be heard."

"Why is he with you?"

Wade was silent as he looked around like he could get stabbed any moment. He moved you into the hall and spoke carefully.

"In his world he's the fucking worst, like everyone died, but now he's here trying to fix it with me cause I made an educated wish. He knows how to save people. And we need him."

"An educated wish?"

"yeah yeah I know. but listen... he spoke of you, and how the last thing he saw that made him loss all hope was seeing you dead in his arms. In my world he was the definition of a hero, and now...we are gonna fucking fix everything."

You sighed. You sensed this Logan was different, but to know you had died in his world. You looked up at Wade and smiled.

"In my world, he died long ago, but Laura told me everything that happened, how he lost so much, the pain of losing all those he loved. Rose, Kayla, Jean, Atsuko, But no matter what, he kept fighting. Every time he uses those claws he feels physical pain, but every night he is haunted by nightmares. I'm sure this Logan faced many pains like mine. But his eyes were the same. The same eyes I fell in love with."

"Jeez, you sound like a poet now, well why don't you go find him and give him a ballad he will never forget."

"I think he got enough fun time with you in that car, from what Laura says, there was clearly some fun times going on there."

"I never kiss and tell honey." Wade said as heard a whistle seeing Gambit motioning him over for a drink. You smirked as Blade groaned as Wade walked up to them saying how he was gonna show them a good time. Whatever inuendo he meant by that.

You looked outside and saw at the campfire near the car, both Logan and Laura were speaking to each other, you smiled at the sight as you walked over and saw Laura look at you and smiled as she placed a hand on Logan's shoulder. He looked at her and nodded to her as he looked back at the fire in front of him. You flipped your cloak over the log and sat beside him as he offered you the bottle of whiskey for a sip but you declined.

"Not a hard liquor kind of girl."

He smirked as he remembered, it had been so long since he had spoken to you, to see you again after so long. It was almost unnerving for him, but he still was for once is his miserable long life, glad to see you again.

"You wanted to talk earlier. I'm gonna assume you have questions?" He said as he threw the empty bottle toward the fire.

"I only wanted to ask how you knew me in your world, but Wade seems to have painted a uneasy but clear picture for me."

Logan gave a sharp eyed glance at Wade as he groaned in annoyance. He looked at you and glanced down at the dog tags you wore around your neck.

"I gave those to you, I mean I personally didn't but your version...fuck you know what I talking about right?"

"it's alright Logan, from what I can tell you and me were both together in both universes, but fate decided, we didn't belong."

"Fate has nothing to do with it."

"You don't believe in it?"

"No I don't, my version of you died and your version of me died. We got the short end of the stick but look at both of us now. No one gets the chance to see their loved ones again...this is all because of that asshole." He smirked pointing over his shoulder to Wade.

"Better not let him hear you, he'll never stop talking about it then."

You both chuckled at the horrifying thought, it had been a long time since you laughed, hell since you felt any joy at all. After all this time you were finally given the chance to see him again, to hear his voice. You looked at him and brought a hand up to his.

"Can I hold your hand?"

He said nothing as he held out his hand as you took off the gloves he was wearing and held your hand in his. The everlasting scars on his hands from his claws slightly showed, even with a healing factor as great as his you come see them. His hand warm to the touch and slightly rough, no doubt from all the fighting and hard labor he did in the past. You closed your eyes as your seismic sense could feel the metal underneath, it was there you could see all the wounds he took, his adamantium skeleton though healed to others, you saw micro fractures everywhere. Every break and every cut he suffered. Clear as day.

You had your hand roam up his muscular arm causing you to blush a little as you saw a familiar break in his bone. It matched exactly to how your Logan got it.

"This was from Sabertooth. Your brother. He came after you one night and had me by the throat trying to hold leverage over you. You fought him and in-between all the cuts and gashes, he managed to break your arm....and that when I used my powers on him. And in so doing...I hurt you as well.

You remembered how your seismic sense caused the metal bones in his body to vibrate and caused pain for him as each bone hit the other. You were still trying to control your powers at this point, but you remembered feeling awful after Sabertooth fled.

Logan looked at you and saw the matching scar along your neck. The same one his version had.

"I remember that night...but if I recall, or at least with my version of you. The night had a lot of exercise and no sleep."

You looked at him and laughed to yourself. He wasn't wrong

"Yeah it was...sorry this is just so...surreal." you said letting go of his hand but he still left the gloves off. You smirked at him as you took off your cloak, the heat from the fire was making you warm. Or at least you thought in that moment. You looked over at the others and saw they were retiring for the night. Wade of course gave you a wink as he blew a kiss to Logan as he helped a very drunk Gambit into the base. Both sights causing you to laugh to yourself. Logan looked at you with small smile.

You smirked as you looked at him once more this time give him a curious look.

"So...I have to ask. Am I...anything like your version. I'm sure we had some differences but I am curious."

He said nothing as he looked at you bring a hand to move a loose stand away from your face as he spoke.

"No matter what universe...your perfect."

You blushed hard as watched him move his hand away for a moment. He fingers flexed with want, he knew it had been...well forever since he felt any affection. But this ...this was different.

"I suppose we should get some rest, after all, it will be a long fight." You said standing up for a moment before looking at him.

But Logan didn't move, something you sensed in him was causing him to stay put as he looked at the fire and then turned to you. You saw him look away from you for a moment, you sat back down and leaned your head closer to him.

"Are you alri-" your words were cut off when you felt his hand grab a hold of your chin and his lips met yours. A thousand sparks seem to go on at once, your eyes closed as you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. It had been so long...so long since you had been kissed by him. You felt his other hand grip the back of your head becoming lost in your hair. You felt a small twinge of pain on yours lips as you knew they would be sore if it continued. He stopped himself catching his breath as he opened his eyes to look at you with a small bit of regret in his eyes.

"Logan..."

"I can't. It feels wrong. Like we are cheating...on each other."

You looked away for a moment. He wasn't entirely wrong. But you when you looked up at him you knew that what you were feeling was only for him. You sighed as you brought both hands to either side of his face making his breathing heighten as well as his want that you could in-between both of you.

"Logan, I love you. No matter what universe, no matter what version of us. I know across the entire multiverse. I only love you. No other." You gave a kind smile as you kissed his cheeks and then brought the kids to his lips as you brought your arms around his neck.

The defense in his body shattered in that instance. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he kissed you back harder and rougher. Even a small growl escaped his throat. Every kiss he gave felt divine as he paused for a moment looking around. You were about to inquire but before you could he grabbed you hand and led you away from fire, leading you into the woods. He stopped when he couldn't hear or smell the others and turned to look at you.

"Did we have to go so far?"

"I'm not letting that walking pain in the ass interrupt us." He said as he pulled you against his body. But still giving you a chance to turn him down.

You smirked as you grabbed a hold of his x men uniform with both hands, pulling him in close to you and kissed him. For a few moments, Logan didn't react. He felt himself quickly start to feel faint. This wasn't what he had expected you to do, but it certainly wasn't unwelcome.

His thoughts wondered to how long he had wanted this. It felt like eons since he felt this way for anyone. After everything that happened to him, he barely dared to hope. But now, with the feeling of your soft lips on his... they were so soft. His mind couldn't help too imagine how that luscious mouth of yours would feel elsewhere. He would give anything to know. Every moment your lips met his, you sensed his whole body tensing up. You expected him to quickly push you away and perhaps admonish the both of you for going too far. You then felt him move. You broke the kiss and started to let go of his suit, when to your surprise, you felt him wrap his arms around you and pull you in tightly, bringing your mouth back up to his for more.

He kissed you deeply, his lips quickly parted yours, giving you one passionate kiss after another. Despite the roughness of his skin, the ever so slight growth of facial hair brushing against your own, his lips were surprisingly soft even given his outer appearance and gruff personality.

Though the two of you should have been quiet, you soon found yourselves moaning softly into each other's mouths. Feeling a bit faint, you wrapped your arms around his neck for support as you felt you were starting to lose strength in your legs. He in turn held you closer to him, though it wasn't enough for him. The woods started to become filled with the sounds of deep breaths and lips parting and meeting again.

Before you knew it, you felt a nearby tree hit your back. With his mouth still on yours, he pushed himself up against you. He reached down, took your left leg and placed it around his waist. Causing you to moan in loud volume but you couldn't care.

With your arms still around his neck, he soon had you pinned to the tree looking down at you with lust filled eyes. The both of you should have been listening for any rogue variants or maybe any other unknown dangers but the only sounds that filled your ears were the erotic sounds that the two of you were making together

With you hanging onto him for dear life, his hands were free to do as he saw fit. One was busy holding your leg up, the other was braced against the tree.. His thoughts wandered to the string cords on your clothes. They wandered further, imagining what garments might be underneath.

He brought his hand down against your back kissing you even harder and rougher

You wouldn't have noticed if you had not suddenly felt the sweet sensation of his leather gloved hand starting to caress your tender neck.

"Fuck..." He said. You whimpered lightly as you felt him glide his fingers along your skin. All the times you had imagined him caressing you came to the forefront, making you forget everything else.

While keeping one arm around his neck, you took his hand in yours. He started to wonderif it was too much. That concern soon vanished the moment he felt you place his hand on your breast.

“Keep going.”

Logan let his hand wander up and down. Your own free hand wandered over his chest, over the hero suit and even the thin clothes that he wore underneath. Reaching further down to his waist, your fingers found his belt, which you attempted to do with one hand, but no luck.

Still your want to please him grew as you brought your hand back down to his waist. You couldn't get the belt loose, but you definitely could manage to get your hand inside his trousers. He moaned louder than ever before as he felt your hand venture down his navel and towards his very hard cock. The closer you got, the more his breath shortened. He was beyond eager to feel you take him in your hand.

The moment he felt you grasp him, he broke the kiss, gasping deeply as he felt your soft hand move up and down the length of him. It had been so long since someone had pleasured him like this, he almost came undone right there and then.

He buried his face in your neck, kissing you up, down and across, becoming more and more aroused hearing you moan just for him. His breathed deepened as he felt you continue to work his length in such a pleasurable way.

Logan was doing his best to center his thoughts, but with you pinned between him and the tree, it was all but impossible. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. As you looked up at him you realized how his gaze was focused on your face. He eyes filled with what looked to be lust and sorrow. He kissed you deeply, slipping his tongue into your mouth as his thumb stroked your cheek. He pulled away after a moment and looked at you with eyes full of adoration. “I missed you, Y/N.” he whispered before pulling you into another kiss.

You knew what he meant, you both had missed this feeling after so long. It was the one good thing you both felt in many years. In this moment being different versions didn't matter.

You reached your hands to his belt and undid it quickly looking him deep in the eyes. as you wrapped your palm around his now hard member. You squeezed and jerked on him while kissing him with tongue.

Logan growled into the kiss as you started to jerk him off. Every few seconds he would purr before returning to kiss your lips. He missed you so much that just a bit of your touch made him rock hard.

You gently pushed him down onto the ground, trying to be careful to not hurt him. The soft grass giving you both some comfort and the cool air making both of you feel a rush of excitement. You tugged his pants down and pumped his shaft few times before taking him in your mouth.

Logan gasped and looked down on you. “Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned quietly before moving his hand into your hair to gain some of the control over your movement. He bucked his hips to push himself deeper into your throat, he was desperate for any feeling.

You pulled him out of your mouth to lick the vein along the side. You sucked the tip before sucking it back into you mouth and bobbing head quickly back and forth making a popping noise as you catch your breath. Your free hand gripped at his other hand causing you to intertwine each other hands as you deep-throated him.

“Fuck.” He gasped and rolled his head back into the lush grass. You felt him grab your hair and your head down closer, pushing his cock as deep as possible. He emptied himself into your throat and sighed loudly. “I forgot how much I missed the feel of your mouth around me.” He teased you.

“Logan” you said as you slipped out of your pants and panties and straddled his bearded face. “If you’ll be a good boy, you’ll get the grand prize,” you informed.

Logan growled lowly as he removed the rest of his suit. You smiled as he wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you down to place gently kisses on your clit and lips. First, he played with you by sucking your lips gently before pushing just the tip of his tongue past your lips. Soon he started to eat you at like a hungry beast.

“Oh...fuck. Logan ahhhh.,” your head rolled back as the pleasure was already unbearable. You'd wanted this after so long. You craved him and his touch, he was spinning your head round. You bucked your hips quickly trying to get more friction while you reached your hand back to jerk over his yet hard again member.

Just when you thought the pleasure was at its peak you suddenly felt him pressing his face to your heat, pushing his tongue deeper into you. One of his hand moved from your hip to your entrance. You saw as he looked up at you before he started pushing two fingers into you. Now he was eating you out while fingering you.

“Fuck oh my god,” you grunted feeling your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you continued to try your best jerking harder at his cock. Soon, you got felt a wave of euphoria as you came on his face. He adjusted so he could lean upward as he brought you down to kiss his lips, you tasted your wetness on them. He wrapped his arms around you causing you to straddle his lap as he guided his cock right to your entrance, he looked at you once more before the pleasurable pain you felt causing you both to moan as his cock entered, he growled.

"Fucking hell, you pussy is sucking me in so hard."

He smiled and gladly kissed you as he started to buck his hips into you while gripping hard onto one of your breasts. You knew in the morning there would be marks, he started kissing and biting your neck as his fingers played with your hardened nipple as he slammed into even harder.

Your entrance convulsed when his cock twitched against it. It was needy for anything, gaping and closing on repeat. He chuckled as he felt it.

“Just like that Logan...fuck...ah...make me cum...around your sweet cock,” you moaned into his ear as your nails dug into his shoulders causing red marks to appear making him growl in both pain and pleasure as he moved his lips away before biting at your lips and kissing you even harder than before. You bucked your hips for him as well, his cock was spreading your inner walls more and more with every thrust.

Logan purred as his hand traveled to your clit to rub gently circles there. His thrusts became deeper and faster. You cried out when you engulfed all of him and his face snuggled into the crook of your neck to bring you comfort. An embarrassing, dragged out whine slipped past your lips as you took more of his thick girth.

"God, yes, yes, yes!,” You suddenly felt your back hit the ground as his well toned muscled body towered over you as you threw your head back in an outburst of pleasure that overwhelmed your body. Cold shivers ran down your spine. He took both your leg and placed them above his hips, his hand traveled to your clit to continue his fun while he fucked into you even harder and rougher than before.

You watched the way your hole eagerly swallowed his cock from below. It was fast and passionate as he finally fucked you onto his cock, groaning lowly into your ear.

It was easy for him to lift you due to his strength, he would undeniably be able to snap you in half if he really wanted to. A few more pumps, then he muttered.

"Sorry if you wanted to keep it this way." He followed you as he pulled you up onto all fours, his muscled arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Using his forearm for support, a tortuous pull out occurred once again before he snapped your hips together.

You choked out a moan as you pulled your hips back in response. He inhaled sharply and continued rocking his hips with yours. His girth blissfully stretched you out, his cock rubbing against that one spot. His torso emitted heat and as much as it left you in a blissful daze, his reckless hips provided a merciless pounding, the studs gliding against your walls only added more pressure and need to arch your back.

"Y/n...fuck your so tight."

Despite the heat, the overwhelming pleasure, the man behind you, it all just wasn't enough. You wanted to rake your fingers through his thick hair and tug, watch his beautifully flushed face and blazed eyes, run your hands all over his chiseled body.

So, you whimpered and grabbed the arm securing you. "I wanna see you—" A harsh thrust had you biting back a moan and interrupting a thought-out yet simple phrase, that took so much time to piece together when all you had was Logan's name and dick carved into your mind.

A grunt was let out into your ear, a moment later, his hips melded with yours and his thrusting halted. He loosened his grip on you and you rolled over to face him, your hands latching onto his hair in an instant as you brought him closer. A humiliating cry fucked out of your throat. You threw your hands to his back as a reflex.

The veins along his chest and neck stand out, head lifting slightly off the ground as his fingers grip tighter at your chest, his cheeks flush red and his lips part again as he growls deep, guttural sounds. Then, you feel his dick inside you pulse, his strong hips lock into yours as he spasms and spills, his cum hot and thick as you continue to move. He throws his head back again then, jaw dropped as he moans, his eyes squeezed shut and body trembling in time with the spurts of his seed within you.

Oh, my sweet—" You almost purr, trailing your hands along his forearms, still rocking your hips slightly as you come into his space, lips trailing along the curve of his jaw. He leaned his head down to you placing his forehead against yours taking deep breathes

"You're gorgeous."

You blush profusely as he chuckles, his hands sliding down to your ass, you press kisses against the underside of his chin until he finally tilts his head down and allows your mouth to cover his. You kiss him languidly, dipping your tongue between his lips, breathing each other's air, feeling his fingers squeeze at your pillowy flesh as he eventually lifts his legs and uses the bit of leverage to thrust his still hard cock slowly in and out. Your whole body shutters beneath him, feeling his cum begin to overflow, sliding wet down the backs of your thighs, and you shiver.

"You haven't come." He mumbles against your lips.

You smooth your hands up over his cheeks, forehead and all the way up to his hair, lifting from your lover's lips to smile slyly up at him.

"Would you hate me if I asked you to keep going?"

Logan groans, his hands shifting down to your hips. his length shifting inside you and you gasp as you're pressed harder into the grass, your legs winding around his hips.

"After 200 years...you may be the death of me."

"Death by fucking too much? There are worse ways to go." You hum happily as the he takes your hands in his and stretches your arms above your head to pin them down against the ground, his weight crushing you, forcing his cock deeper inside. You whimper and your eyes roll, toes curling at how entirely full you feel.

"A—ah, fuck—?"

His grip tightens around your hands and he pulls his hips back until he's almost the entire way out before he slams his sensitive cock back into your pussy. You feel his cum pushing out of you, pushing deeper inside you, each movement causing his entire body to shudder and tremble as he fights through his overstimulation to please you. You reward him with unabashed sounds of satisfaction, your heels digging into the backs of his thighs to urge him on, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. Knowing all too well the want to not get caught left your minds from the start.

Logan lowers himself, his entire body encompassing yours with its size as he rocks his hips into you, his dick twitching within your clenching walls, loud, almost pained sounds of unbelievable pleasure muffled against your neck as he feels you unravel around him. You reach your peak, it hits you hard, you turn your face into the crook of his neck as mouth opens in a soundless scream of euphoria.

You don't know when it happens, but all at once somewhere in the middle of your moaning, Logan makes a wounded noise and you're flooded once again with seed, delirious and writhing beneath him as you take it. You hear the sound of his claws unsheathed as his hips trust more and more until he's empty and your completely full.

He finally releases your hands and slumps on top of you, careful not to completely crush you underneath him, but curling into you and holding tight. You throw your arms around him, breathing erratic as you pulse through your climax, threading your fingers through his hair and clutching him to your body as you feel his smile against your collarbone.

No words are said as the scent of sex and sweat permeates around the two of you. Both of you holding each other for some time, enjoying the post orgasmic bliss. Lips meet meld into lazy kisses, noses pressed against each other. Both of you share breath as you kiss, too exhausted to pull apart.

HIs muscular arms envelope your body, cradling you protectively. Together relishing in the feeling of the rise and fall of the the others chest, both familiar and new.

You feel your eyes flutter closed, easing into Logan's warm embrace.

The next time your eyes open, the sun almost over the horizon. You look around to see Logan is no where in sight. You wondering where he could have gotten to, you sat up looking over toward the sound of the others at the base.

The sound of the others reaches the small woods, conversation just barely too far off to be made out. You see Logan walking into the clearing with a large bucket of warm water and a wash rag with him.

"Logan...are you-"

Before you can speak he takes one of your hands and begins to press the warm damp fabric against your skin. His motion is slow and purposeful. You couldn't help but sigh. Your Logan was always surpassing your expectations of a lover. Here he was, it may not be your Logan caring for you, but in a way you couldn’t have dreamt of asking this from him.

He looks at you seeing a hint of tenderness in your eyes. Soon your guided to twist to face away from him, his strong arms pressing the warm cloth against your sore muscles and long healed scars.

You moaned sighs at the sensation, he takes care to clean every surface of your body. His eyes are focused, consumed wholly in this act of love. You watch him. Adoration and love builds up in your chest at the ways his eyebrows crease and his eyes focus.

You turn your body back to face him, both of you shareing a longing look. He sees into your very person, and you into his. His eyes drift between your legs, and worry enters his mind.

“I - lost myself in the moment. I shouldn't have done that.”

You placed an affectionate hand over your lower belly with a subtle smile.

“Don't worry Logan, I'm not upset. It felt good in the moment." He moves in closer as you lie back down against the grass, spreading her legs for him. You feel the warm rag against you, the touch isn’t sexual, But rather filled with the same love and care it had pressed into her skin just a moment before.

"I don’t regret it at all.” You say as you pull him to lay beside you.

"Do you?" You asked as you felt your heart beat quicken. With a sigh and a smile he combs out your hair with his fingers, moving the loose strands of hair away from your face.

"Never."

You relaxed as you felt him melting in your arms, content beyond all measure, whispering words of love and devotion in your ear.

"We should probably head back soon, otherwise Wade may find us."

"If he does he can fuck off." Logan said pulling you in closer as you chuckled to yourself. You smiled up at him as you brought your head against his chest, a few more hours would be alright, at least for now.

#logan howlett x reader #deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #smut under cut #minors dni #enjoy

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imagine-you · 1 day

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don't turn your back on me [old man logan/reader]

Summary: "You would always remember the night the X-Men fell, because it was also the night you lost Logan." The first in a series of spinoffs from my main fic in my Home 'verse that explores different Wolverine variants and their relationships with the reader in their universes. Word Count: 6.3k Author's Notes: This isn't so much based on the movie Logan as it is the comic series Old Man Logan. In that series, it's Logan who kills the X-Men and not Professor X. Next up: Marvel Zombies/What If? crossover with zombified Wolverine and side Bucky/Reader for Halloween!

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You would always remember the night the X-Men fell, because it was also the night you lost Logan.

You knew something was wrong before you even stepped through the doors of the mansion. It was late, but the mansion had never been so eerily still. It was always so full of life at every hour, with chatter and laughter and yelling.

You weren't expecting the first body sprawled on the floor of the foyer. You fell to your knees, reaching out a shaky hand to feel for a sign of life, but it was pointless.

Scott was dead.

You weren't sure how long you stayed there, staring at him, before you realized he wasn't the only body. You followed the trail of fallen through the hallways of the mansion, dizzy and disoriented. You hadn't been gone for long, only a few hours. But how had you come back to this? How could any of this have happened?

There was a shifting in your periphery, someone walking along the edge of the room, but your attention was caught by something else.

It was Logan.

You felt your breath leave you all in a rush at the sight before you. Logan, claws deep in Ororo's chest, snarling in her face as the life drained from her.

"Logan?"

Your voice sounded small, terrified, and for a moment you didn't even realize it was yours. Your heart was pounding as he slowly turned his gaze on you. He looked nearly feral, completely unaware of his surroundings. The man you loved more than anyone else would have never hurt Ororo or Scott no matter how much he fought with him. The man you loved wouldn't be getting to his feet, his claws still unsheathed, as he began to approach you. The man you loved wouldn't dare raise a hand, ready to sink his claws into you, his expression clouded with fury.

"Victor," he snarled, poised to strike. "I should've known you'd be in on this," he spat before slashing down.

You were quick to raise a forcefield, holding it in front of you like a shield to fend off his attack. He kept advancing, his movements frenzied as he tried to land a blow.

All the while, there was that awareness at the edge of your vision. It was bothering you, but you couldn't take your eyes off Logan. He was single-minded in his attack, and he kept trying to break through your barrier.

"Logan!" You shouted, hoping to get through to him. "Logan, it's me," you pleaded, keeping your defenses raised.

You had a feeling that your current tactic wasn't going to work. Not if you wanted to figure out why the hell Logan had killed so many of his own team, his family, and why he thought you were Victor. So, you let yourself go invisible, quickly dropping your forcefield and moving off to the side.

Logan stumbled forward, his claws getting momentarily stuck in the wall, before he pulled them free.

"You can't hide from me, Victor," he roared, anger written into the lines of his body.

You kept yourself hidden, not wanting to let Logan find you before you could figure out what the hell was going on. It was there, just on the edge of your vision, a shimmer of air that begged to be uncovered.

You were so focused on finding the intruder that you backed right into a table, sending a vase toppling off the side. The sound of it crashing to the floor was loud, jarringly loud, in the room and Logan's eyes unerringly fixed on you.

"There you are," he growled, his claws catching the light and sending your heart racing. "You won't get away from me that easily," he continued, his fist pulled back, poised to bring his claws down right into your throat.

You managed to finally snag the anomaly in a forcefield, easily crushing it between one beat of your heart and the next. The tips of Logan's claws had just brushed against your throat when he reeled back, blinking at you in alarm.

"Y/N? What the hell is going on? Where's Victor?"

"Logan, look at me," you said, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, not wanting him to see the destruction that had befallen the mansion. You knew once he realized what happened, once he saw the bodies, he would lose it all over again. For now, you needed him here with you. "Victor was never here. I don't know what he showed you, but it wasn't your fault, okay?"

"What?" Logan's brow furrowed in confusion, and he tried to turn his head, but you held firm. He could have easily shaken you off, but he seemed to realize it was what you needed from him. "Who? What are you talking about? They all showed up and just started attacking. I got most of them, I think, but--"

"Mysterio," you blurted, recognizing the cape and glass shards of his helmet. Wade had always called him the magic fishbowl, but you couldn't even find humor in it now. "Mysterio must've created an illusion," you started to explain, not knowing how to keep your voice even. Your hands were shaking as you held his face, and you could feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You didn't know the extent of the damage, but the blood that coated nearly every surface didn't bode well for the team.

"What," Logan snapped, finally tearing free of your hold. "But I got the young ones out. And then the team disappeared and then...and then...," he froze, his eyes finally taking in the outcome of his unintentional slaughter. "But it wasn't them," he muttered, his eyes focused in on the blood that had pooled beneath Jubilee's head. "It wasn't them, I swear," he said before he turned away from you. He cried out in anguish before falling to his knees. His head fell into his hands, and you could see his shoulders begin to shake.

You shuffled forward, making sure to not make any sudden movements. You reached out a hand, briefly landing it on Logan's shoulder, but he shook you off.

"Don't touch me," he snarled, snapping his head up. He looked over his shoulder in your direction but wouldn't make eye contact. "I did this."

It sounded final, a revelation that would change Logan forever, and you knew he was starting to slip away from you.

"Logan, it wasn't your fault. Mysterio tricked you and you couldn't have--"

"I did this," Logan insisted, staring down at the blood on his hands. Suddenly, he was on his feet, and his hands were ripping at his uniform. He was half-naked by the time he turned a wild look on you before he was gone, storming out of the mansion.

"Logan," you pleaded, following after him. You couldn't look at the bodies anymore and you couldn't stay at the mansion. Logan had always been your home, your everything, and you couldn't let him leave you now.

By the time you got outside, there was no sign of Logan anywhere. You spotted something on the ground, and you bent down to pick it up. It was a scrap of his X-Men uniform, left abandoned and forgotten. You held it close to your chest before you took a few steps forward, eyeing the forest that bordered the property.

Logan was somewhere in there and you intended to find him.

Rumors and stories haunted you during the years you spent on Logan's trail. He never stayed in one place for too long, fleeing from location to location, as if the death he so easily craved was on his heels.

You supposed, in a way, that was true.

Logan refused to pop his claws. He didn't want to fight, all of his desire to be a hero had been torn out of him the night he unknowingly felled the X-Men. He suffered by himself, knowing that he couldn't die, so he would have to live with the memories of his team, his family dead.

You wanted to take him by the shoulders and scream at him that you were still alive. He wasn't to blame for what happened to the X-Men, but he was to blame for what happened between the two of you. Did any of it mean so little to him? Did he really think you thought so little of him? Had the proposal and the promises of a future together simply vanish along with him the night that changed everything?

You truly had nothing except for the small, brittle hope you were harboring that Logan would finally just stop running. So, you kept chasing him and cleaning up his messes along the way, because you felt like it was all you could do. Logan was yours, the one person in the whole world that you knew was just for you. He had promised, with stolen kisses before you had to run off to teach mutant history or when he pressed you down into your bedsheets ready to wreck you in the best way, that you were his too.

The fact that he never once looked back, never stayed in one place too long just to try to see if you could catch up, hurt more than you had words to describe.

When the heroes fell, the villains rose. The country changed, becoming a playground for every human, mutant, and alien with villainous intent. Fear permeated the air everywhere you went, people terrified for their lives and their families, knowing that no one was coming to save them.

During those years, you became known as Logan's shadow. Logan was no longer the Wolverine and wouldn't dare flash his claws, but you would happily wield whatever weapon necessary to make sure no one went after him. Where Logan went, death followed, because it fell on you to leave the body count in his wake.

You saved people and gave them their livelihoods back, because you would never have yours again. You killed slumlords and murderers and anyone who sought joy from destruction, because it was people like them who had stolen your future with Logan from you. You watched Logan's back from afar and craved his touch, his look, his assurance, but going without every time.

You had scars that would never heal and new terrors to haunt you in the night, but all you wanted was him. You felt like you were going insane, relentlessly chasing something you might never have again, but you found it difficult to relinquish hope.

You figured sooner or later, you would get lucky. If only for a moment, you just wanted to be in the same room as him. You wanted to walk into a space without knowing that you had missed him by only minutes before having to run after him again.

You lucked out years down the line after taking out one of Norman Osborn's lackies in an abandoned warehouse district. You were in Osborn County, near what used to be Detroit, when you heard Logan's gruff voice coming from one of the buildings. He sounded tired, wrecked, and there was someone else's voice taunting him.

"Can't get little Wolverine to come and play, can I? Too bad he's not here to join the party, because it's about to get real fun," the voice crowed before you heard a new voice.

"Please! He's all I have," a woman begged, her voice breaking into a sob.

You had been tracking Logan for long enough that you knew he was usually alone. So, you didn’t know how he had managed to stick around long enough to see the damage you were about to do. It was the usual routine for you two. Trouble found Logan, Logan fled, and you swept in and took care of the problem.

This wasn’t at all how it was supposed to go, and you felt a little thrill of anticipation run through you at the thought of seeing him.

You hadn’t been this close to him in years, and you wondered why he was still hanging around. You weren't sure if it was where he had been crashing before moving on, but now as you were trying to get a glimpse into the building, you could see a makeshift camp in the corner of the room.

Logan was on his knees, glaring at someone, and when you shifted to the side, you could see a man with a knife to a kid's throat. He didn't look older than fifteen, tears streaming down his face as he stared death down. There was also a woman with another guy behind her, holding a gun to her head.

"Just kill me," the woman begged, holding her hands out. “Kill me and let him go. He doesn’t deserve to die.”

"You don't pay us and now we kill your boy," the guy behind her spat. "And lookie here, we've got a live audience," he nodded over at Logan. "'cept he's not gonna do anything, 'cause he's a chickenshit now."

Logan looked so defeated and you knew he was struggling with himself. He wanted to help the woman and her son, but he was done killing. You watched him for a moment, so relieved to even just see him, despite the circumstances.

Logan drew in a deep breath before his head snapped up, his eyes meeting yours where you were still hidden in the darkness. He took another breath, and you knew he had caught your scent. His expression morphed from disbelief to heartbreak to acceptance. He dipped his head in a tiny nod, silently giving you the go ahead.

You stepped out of the shadows that had shielded you, shedding your invisibility, and smirked at the two guys who had landed themselves on your target list.

"He might not do anything," you started, forming a forcefield around the one with the knife. "But I sure as hell will."

"What the hell?" The one with the gun gasped, turning it on you.

You easily deflected the bullet with a forcefield while you trapped the guy with the knife. You snapped your forcefield closed, only his hand holding the knife free outside of it, and watched it fall to the ground. Blood began to coat the sides of your forcefield while the guy screamed in agony.

You formed another forcefield around the gun in the other guy's hand and jerked it free, watching him stumble in an attempt to pull it back. It clattered uselessly to the floor, several feet away and out of reach.

You let another forcefield encase the guy's head, offering him a goodbye wave, before you let the sides collapse, taking his skull with it. His body fell to the ground, limbs still uselessly twitching, as the field held the remnants of his brain and bones and eyes. You let it all fall to the floor with a grotesque splat before turning your attention on the other guy who was still mourning the loss of his hand.

The woman had grabbed her son and was clutching at his shoulders, desperately trying to prove to herself that he was unharmed. Once she was satisfied, she pulled him close and then fled for the door, not even sparing a glance back as you pried the knife from the guy's disembodied hand.

You turned towards the man still in your forcefield and let it drop. He raised his head to sneer up at you.

"You'll regret this," he claimed, falling back onto the floor. "People are payin' attention to you! You can't just do whatever the hell you want."

"Yeah, whatever," you sighed, before taking the knife and striking out with it, catching him in the chest.

You watched the man die, his blood pooling at your feet, before you turned your attention towards the other man snared in one of your forcefields.

Logan's shoulders were slumped as you approached him.

"Don't," he sighed, shaking his head. He was kneeling on the floor, leaning his forehead against your forcefield, but he wasn't actively trying to escape.

He knew it would be a useless endeavor.

You took a precious moment to catalogue all the little differences you noticed since the last time you saw him. His hair now had a couple of streaks of grey and the lines in his face were more pronounced. Logan had started to age, just the tiniest bit, and you hated that you had missed the opportunity to see him evolve over the years. It was another thing he had denied you and you didn’t know if you would ever fully forgive him for it.

"I've waited years for this moment," you reminded him, sinking to your knees so you were at his level. "I'm not going anywhere, Logan, and until you hear me out, you aren't either."

Logan had his eyes closed, but he finally opened them to meet yours. "What do you want?"

You let out a humorless laugh, reaching a hand out to place it against the forcefield.

"You," you answered, because it should have been obvious. "I've only ever wanted you, but you don't want me. Not anymore. Or else you wouldn't have run from me. Not for ten fucking years."

Logan snorted, sitting back enough to give you a disbelieving look. "I've always wanted you," he refuted, briefly letting the want and longing he had been suppressing flash across his face. "But I don't deserve you. Not after what I did."

"I don't blame you," you assured him, your hands beginning to tremble. You wanted so badly to reach out and pull him into your arms, but you were scared to drop your forcefield. He would run away again, and you were tired of him leaving you in the dust. "I wouldn't have chased you all these years if I thought for one second that you were to blame."

"Let me go," he begged you. "I'm not that guy anymore. I can't be that guy for you anymore."

"Yes, you can," you hissed, anger starting to rise, overtaking desperation. "I don't want Wolverine, I've only ever wanted you, Logan. You don't have to be a hero again, but I just want you with me. Isn't that enough? Just us?"

Logan wouldn't meet your eyes, and you crashed your fist into your forcefield, hating that he wouldn't even look at you. Your heart was breaking all over again and a part of you was starting to wish you hadn't caught up to him at all.

"Stop being a coward," you snarled, getting to your feet. You turned your back on Logan and walked away from him, relishing the idea of making him chase after you for once. "You're not the only one in pain," you reminded him. "You're not the only one who lost their entire family that night. But the difference between us is you chose to run away from me, but I didn't want that. I never wanted you to leave me, but you didn't even give me the fucking choice." Your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, and you could barely keep them from shaking. "You know what," you started, finally making your decision. "If you want to go, then you can fucking leave again." You dropped your forcefield, keeping your back to him. You didn't know what was more pathetic. That you couldn't watch him abandon you again or that you knew you would still follow him once he was gone.

You weren't prepared for Logan's hand on your shoulder or when he turned you around to look at him. His expression was a mix of despair and frustration and want.

"You want me that much?" He got out between gritted teeth. "You want the guy who murdered our family? Who has only ever thought of you this whole time and what was best for you?"

"That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it. If you gave a shit about me, you would stop running," you seethed at him. "The guy who murdered our family is dead, because I fucking killed him! All you've done for the past ten years is run, Logan. Aren't you fucking tired of running?"

"You deserve better than me," he argued, his hands coming up to grip your arms. "Why can't you just let me go?"

"Because I fucking love you, you absolute moron," you snarled before pressing your lips to his, not wanting to argue any longer. You had spent ten years alone, desolate and grieving, and when you imagined this moment during lonely nights, you never quite managed to think it would be so full of hostility.

Logan froze for a moment before he responded in kind. His hands were tight bands around your forearms and his teeth nipped at your lips, begging entrance you eagerly granted. You slipped your hands beneath his shirt and raked your nails down his back, wanting to make him hurt. You wished you could leave your mark on him, but he would only heal within seconds.

Harsh kisses were followed by soft whimpers, and you tore your mouth free, obligingly baring your neck to him when he trailed his lips along your jaw towards your throat. He bit kisses into your skin, soothing the sting with his tongue, before moving on to the next one.

You didn't know how you got across the room or when he lowered you down onto his makeshift bed. All you could recognize was that Logan was holding you in his arms and whispering a promise against your mouth.

He still loved you.

He told you that over and over again until you started to believe him.

Logan was out of his shirt before you could get rid of yours. He reached down, helping you tug your shirt up over your head before his hands fell to the waistband of your jeans. He met your eyes, silently asking permission, and you nodded your head, hoping you didn't appear too eager.

It had been so long since you felt Logan and you didn't realize just how much you needed him. The feel of his body against yours and his hands wrapped around your hips and his breath warming the side of your neck before he sucked another kiss into your flesh.

It felt like an eternity before you were both completely bared to each other. Logan was kneeling on the floor, a question in his eyes, and you nodded your head. Your legs fell open easily, admitting Logan until he was all you could feel.

The sex was fast and nearly punishing, both of you taking out years of aggression and want on the other. It was all-consuming, you could feel, hear, taste, see, and smell nothing but Logan. His tongue was in your mouth and your legs were wrapped around his hips, urging him to quicken his pace. You were covered in bruises and aching, but all you could think about was how much you had missed Logan. You poured every ounce of your want into the moans being wrung out of you and when you gasped, your head tilted back as you chased your end, all you could think about on the fall down was how much you didn't want it to be over.

You half-expected Logan to get up and leave, but he stayed right there with you. He maneuvered the two of you until he was on his back and you were curled up into his side, your head resting on his shoulder with his arm around your waist.

You chanced a glance up at him, terrified that it had all been a dream. "I'm scared," you found yourself admitting.

Logan quirked an eyebrow at you, his hand gently rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you. "Why scared?"

You had so many things to be scared about, but most of all you were scared that Logan was already slipping away from you again.

You didn't want to confess that, so you settled for something else.

"My luck is going to run out eventually," you pointed out with a grimace. "You go around killing villains in a country run by villains, and the wrong people take notice. They'll get me sooner or later. That dead guy over there said as much earlier."

Logan was silent for a few torturous, drawn-out moments before he finally sighed. "Then you should go home. Stop running after me."

You let out an annoyed huff before you sat up, staring down at him in disbelief. "Home, Logan? I don't have a home. You," you stressed, poking him in the chest, "are my home, you idiot." You turned away from him, reaching out for your clothes. You were suddenly freezing, and you had no desire to run around in the same conversational circles with Logan again.

"Just, c'mere," Logan breathed, reaching out to tug you back into his arms once you were dressed again. "I don't know if I'll ever stop running," he confessed, holding tight when you made to move away again. "Because every time I think about it, I remember their blood on my hands. They were my family and I was supposed to protect them, but I slaughtered them. They screamed, you know, but I thought it was Sinister and Bullseye and other jackasses we'd spent our whole lives fighting. But it was Storm, Cyclops, Jubilee, Beast," he listed, his grip tightening on you with each one. "And it was almost you. Mysterio had me so convinced you were Victor, I was about to slice your head off with my claws. I tried so hard to just get rid of myself, because I knew I'd never be able to erase what I did. I don't know how to just stand still and face what I've done. But God, you make me want to try. You make me want to be better, but all I've done is hurt you and force you to kill for me. I'm the reason you've got that target on your back."

"It's not your fault," you reiterated for what you felt like must have been the thousandth time since the night the X-Men fell. "Mysterio and all those villains who took advantage of what happened to our family are to blame. You loved them all so much and they knew that, Logan. I'm not asking you to face your demons for me, but I just want to go with you where you go and not arrive days later, searching for you. If you can't stay still, then that's okay, because I'll run with you."

Logan pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, pulling in a deep breath, drawing in your scent. "Get some rest," he replied, keeping you pressed close to him. "I get the feeling you haven't had a good night's sleep in a while. I'll watch out for you."

You knew it was Logan's way of avoiding the issue, but you still felt a breath of relief escape you. Half the time, you had to sleep with one hand on a weapon, waiting for an attack. You couldn't remember the last time you had fallen asleep feeling safe, and now in Logan's hold, you could already feel yourself begin to drift off.

You took a chance, pressing a brief kiss to Logan's shoulder. "I love you," you whispered, knowing he would hear you.

You were asleep before you could hear Logan's response, if he even had one.

When you woke in the morning, you were alone.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself believe that Logan was coming back, before you forced yourself to face reality.

As you stood, you tried to stretch the aches out of your body. Sleeping on the floor hadn't been the brightest idea, but when you had been so fully embraced by Logan, it hadn't mattered. Now, you were cold, alone, and felt incredibly vulnerable.

Later, you would blame the heartbreak that had transcended into resignation. You were so blinded by being left behind again that you didn't even notice the hit coming.

Something rolled across the floor and landed right at your feet. It took you a stupidly long moment to realize it was one of Osborn's pumpkin bombs. You brought your hands up, only having enough time to form a half-assed forcefield, before the bomb went off.

You were thrown back into the wall behind you before falling to the floor, your head bouncing painfully off your forcefield on the way down. You didn't even realize you had dropped it until a tentacle slammed down into the floor beside you followed by another on your other side, cutting off any hope of an exit you might have.

When your vision focused again, you saw three figures staring down at you.

"Wakey wakey," Green Goblin sang, tilting his head to the side as he observed you. "We've been looking for you."

"Thought you could escape us?" Victor Creed growled, flexing his claws.

You didn't know whether it was hilarious or depressing that Logan had left you, but his brother had somehow shown up in his place. As you stared up at the last villain, Omega Red, you wondered how you could have been so stupid. You had let your guard down, for Logan, and now you were going to get yourself killed. You had spent years killing goons and lackies and now their bosses were here to exact revenge.

If you were going down, then you resolved to at least try to take someone with you.

Victor would be the easiest, so you turned a smirk up at him. He seemed briefly confused before you formed a forcefield around his body and attempted to crush him, but it was at that moment Osborn flipped a switch on the device strapped to his wrist. At the same time, Omega Red used one of his tentacles, the end of it pointed into a sharp lance, and slammed it down into your calf. You could feel the bone break and you instinctively tried to jerk away from him, but you couldn't go anywhere. The attack was followed up by a mist spraying from Osborn's device and you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire.

You knew you were screaming, and you wished for nothing more than the ability to stop, but pain had enveloped you so completely. You weren't even sure if the others were actively hurting you or Norman just wanted to you to lose your mind. After your screams died out, simply because your throat felt worn raw and you couldn't pull in anymore breath into your lungs, Norman sprayed another mist.

The relief was nearly instantaneous, but the moment was short-lived.

You were shaking uncontrollably, and you knew without a doubt that you couldn't use your power even if you had the energy to try. You felt so weakened that you could barely lift your head when Victor crouched over you. He slashed his claws across your face, leaving blood to pour freely from the gash across your cheek.

"Too bad my brother doesn't want you anymore," he sneered, pressing his claws to your shoulder before digging in.

You didn't have it in you to scream anymore and you felt your head loll forward, dark spots dancing in your vision.

You knew there was no walking away from this. At least, you consoled yourself, you had known Logan for one more night. It might not have been perfect, but it was what you needed. Victor's claws came up to caress your throat and you imagined them easily slicing through your flesh, ending your life.

You closed your eyes, wanting to think about nothing but Logan in your final moments, when you heard his voice.

"Get the fuck away from her," Logan snarled, and you were half-convinced that it was all in your head. He should have been long gone by now, already crossing state borders in a bid to put some distance between the two of you.

But when you managed to open your eyes, it was to see Logan at Omega Red's back. Osborn was simply watching Logan, as if he was waiting for the show, and Omega Red already had his tentacles curling out to attack Logan.

"Looks like little Logan has come out to play," Osborn mocked, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them. He went back to the device on his wrist, and you whimpered at the idea of the unceasing pain.

Logan shot you a worried look, but he didn't take his attention away from the three villains threatening you. He sidestepped one of Omega Red's attacks, making it look nearly effortless.

"I said get the fuck away from her," Logan reiterated, turning his attention on Victor. "I'm not gonna ask you again, bub."

Victor laughed, letting his claws break the skin of your throat. "I'm not scared of you. You haven't popped your claws in years. You're just a pathetic piece of shit, Logan, and now you're gonna watch your girlfriend die."

Logan watched the blood trail down your neck before he met your eyes. There was a moment when all you could see was the fear in Logan's eyes when you sincerely thought he was going to watch Victor slash your throat. You knew that losing another person he loved would destroy him all over again and you didn't want him to have to watch.

"Just go," you pleaded, not wanting your death on Logan's conscience as well. "It's okay."

Logan looked so heartbroken for a moment, his eyes never once leaving yours as his hands began to tremble. But then you could see rage fall over him and he flicked his wrists, letting his claws descend.

Between one slow blink of your eyes and the next, Logan was standing behind Victor.

"The name's not Logan," he started, before he made a quick movement that sunk his claws right into Victor's neck. "It's Wolverine," he snarled before pulling his claws free, messy and bloody, leaving Victor's head to roll back on his shoulders before falling to the floor.

Osborn and Omega Red didn't move for one shocked moment before they both descended on Logan. He made quick work of Green Goblin, stabbing him over and over again with his claws until Osborn's insides were spilling out of him and his face was indistinguishable beneath his cracked mask.

Omega Red proved to be a tougher challenge for Logan. His claws didn't do much to Omega Red and you knew that it might be hours before either one of them got the upper hand. You managed to use all the strength you had reserved, waiting for your perfect moment to strike, before forming a forcefield around Omega Red. He struck out, trying to pierce through it with his tentacles, but you were determined not to let him go anywhere.

You let it shrink and shrink, keeping a tight hold on your control. You wanted to savor Omega Red's demise, knowing that it might be the last time you got to take down a villain. You finally closed your hand into a fist, crushing Omega Red in your forcefield, stubbornly holding it long after you knew he was dead.

Logan was at your side, pressing a torn blanket to the wound in your leg.

"I'm here, sweetheart," he soothed, and you realized then that you had been reaching out for him, your breath leaving you on a whimper. "I'm sorry. I never should've left you here." He was careful as he slid one arm beneath your knees and used the other to brace your back. "Arms around my neck," he ordered, barely giving you time to comply before he was lifting you up.

"Where are we going?" You croaked, your throat sore and limbs weak as you clung to him.

"Anywhere but here," Logan answered, carrying you out of the warehouse. "Someone's gonna come sniffing around sooner or later and I want to get you as far away from here as I can."

You could feel yourself beginning to drift now that your adrenaline had faded. "Will you be there when I wake up?" You made yourself ask, terrified that Logan would drop you off at a hospital and make a break for it.

"I'm never leaving you again," Logan promised you as he approached a van.

You weren't sure where he got it, but you were grateful for it when he helped you lie down in the back of it.

You must have given him a skeptical look, because Logan grabbed your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. "From now on, we'll run together," he said, cupping a hand to your cheek. "If you'll have me," he amended, brushing his fingers over the cuts Victor had left on your face. "I wouldn't forgive me if I was you."

"Yeah, well, you're not me," you pointed out, bringing a hand up to squeeze his wrist. "And I love you, Logan. I never stopped loving you." You had crossed state lines and fought and bled and cried all for Logan. You would have kept chasing him for the rest of your life, because he was all you had.

Logan gifted you an uncertain smile and you knew he felt like he didn't deserve your devotion. "I'll spend the rest of my life earning that," he told you before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I never wanted you to have to be the Wolverine again," you tried to console him, knowing how much he had sacrificed letting his claws free again. "But thank you for saving me."

Logan huffed out an amused breath, gifting you with a look like he couldn't believe you were real. "You're the one who saved me," he pointed out, maneuvering himself until he could lie down at your side. Your eyelids had started to droop and you were fighting sleep. "Now, try to get some rest. I'll be here when you're ready to wake up."

You reached out, grasping Logan's hand in yours. "I'm going to hold you to that," you let him know before letting yourself fall asleep, finally feeling safe with the knowledge that Logan wasn't planning on leaving you again.

Author's Notes: @the-gentle-spirit had the idea that each Wolverine had their own Y/N and that the Y/N in the main fic 'won't somebody come take me home' truly had the worst Logan in her universe before she met the Logan from Deadpool and Wolverine. Every other Logan is stupidly in love with their Y/N, so the fact that that Logan could let her go so easily was truly an anomaly. So, each chapter will be a different variant, starting with Old Man Logan as a birthday gift to myself. 🎉🥳 If you want to be tagged in this series or in all of my Logan fics, just let me know!

All Logan Taglist: @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @slightlymediocree @snowyminty @i-wear-wet-socks313 @shizzybarnaclee

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #old man logan #old man logan x reader #reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #imagine #wolverine imagine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #in another life perhaps verse #my fic

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yeonzzzn · 5 hours

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phantom and the opera ; park sunghoon

pairing: phantom!sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 3.9k synopsis: a phantom stalks the opera house you currently sing for. a phantom who has eyes and ears for you and only you. warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected sex, murder, blood, sunghoon is well a phantom obvi so he’s dead, mentions of death, MINORS DNI!!!

Sunghoon doesn’t remember when he died—just that he did. His only other memory before his death is how he died.

Sunghoon held his arms behind his back, tangling his fingers together as he slowly walked the halls of the opera house he currently, well, haunts. He stopped right in the doorway leading to behind the stage, staring at the spot where he was murdered.

The experience of being murdered was definitely a zero out of ten in his book. And his murderer? Got a whopping two stars on Yelp for being the shittest murderer ever. Home guy just walks in through the back door in the middle of switching between sets and shoves a dagger straight through Sunghoon’s side and twists. Sunghoon was the only one behind the stage that was ready for the next scene, warming up his vocal cords for the big range he was about to sing out. It definitely took him by surprise to feel the dagger pierce through his skin and feel literally everything leak out of his body as he bled out on the floor.

The next he knew he was standing there, looking at his dead body and being confused as fuck as to how he was still on Earth. Weren’t you supposed to go to heaven or hell once you’re passed? Guess not in Sunghoon’s case.

And ever since then, he has stalked the grand opera house. He doesn’t even know how much time has passed since his murder or if the man was even caught. He doesn’t even know why he was murdered to begin with. Who randomly goes into an opera house and kills one of its cast members? That fucked obviously. And for what? NOTHING! According to the talk of the people who’ve made their way in and out of the building after his death, all his belongings and even money, wallet, keys—literally everything—were still on his person.

Guess the guy just needed to let go of some pent-up rage and Sunghoon was just the unlucky bastard who was his victim.

Again, two stars on yelp.

Guy is an asshole.

So Sunghoon decided to take it upon himself to be the local opera ghost and stop any future crime from happening.

Or so he tried.

Because ya know, he’s a boo and no one can see nor hear him. The most homie can do is throw some objects around. Real spooky shit.

So Sunghoon gave up and spent however long it’s been to watch free opera shows and silently or even loudly, judge the shows. Because again he’s a ghost, who can stop him?

You.

It all began with you.

One long night at the opera, Sunghoon continued his normal walks around the building. The show ended and everyone was gone—or so he thought. Sunghoon rambled on about the cast and setting and how completely shitty that version of Wicked just was.

“Wasn’t this an opera house? Since when did this place start doing random ass musicals and plays?” he scrunches his nose, staring down at his black boots.

“The owners decided to expand. This building is just a theater now.”

Sunghoon stopped walking and looked up to see you standing at the entrance to the dressing rooms.

He raised a brow, turning to look behind him and seeing no one.

“How did you get back here? This place is for cast members and staff only.” You asked.

Sunghoon once again looked behind him and everywhere around him. There’s no way you’re speaking to him, right?

“Will you stop fidgeting and answer my question?” You snapped, resting your hands on your hips as you took him in, seeing the pure confusion on his face.

“You can see me? And hear me?” he asked, now fidgeting with the seams of his cape.

You rolled your eyes and let out a groan, “Of course, I can see you!” you motioned your hand in his direction, “Stop beating around the bush and state your business here.”

Sunghoon dropped his hands at his sides, tilting his head ever so slightly while he looked at you. Watching you watching him.

You tried to keep your composure and not be distracted by the handsome man in front of you wearing a really old version of the phantom’s suit from The Phantom of The Opera. Where did he even get that outfit? It’s so outdated.

Sunghoon was speechless. How could he not be? Someone finally took notice of him. A beautiful woman at that.

“I’ve always been here…” he mumbles, not knowing what else to say.

You open your mouth to question him more, just to snap it shut as you fully drink him in. Taking in his deep brown eyes and the moles that surround his face. The way his hair parts and slightly falls in his face. It’s that moment you realize who he was. Remembering seeing his photo in the halls of this theater as one of the best actors and opera singers this city has known. And remembering how he was brutally murdered behind the stage many many many years ago.

You were talking to the ghost of Park Sunghoon.

“How…what?”

“That’s what I am asking myself too,” he said with a sigh, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Guess you might be something special.”

And ever since then, Sunghoon has been attached to you. The first person to take notice of him in so long. The first person to react to him. To talk back to him. And he means talk back.

Sassy thing you are towards him. Always critiquing his comments on this new theme of theater, plays, operas, and everything in between. And honestly? He loved it.

If he wasn’t already in love with you at first sight, he definitely was the moment he first heard you sing. It entranced him. Your acting and your stage presence as a whole set him on fire. His nonbeating heart felt as if it were working again. The way he stalked outside the dressing room that evening, waiting so impatiently for you to step out.

“YN!” he called out the minute you took a single step out the door.

You held a finger up to your lips, quickly shushing him. You knew no one else could hear him, but you never wanted to risk it either. Or risk talking to him when others were still in the building. You’d look crazy. Or worse, someone else would notice Sunghoon and realize he haunts this theater. Deep down, in the small few months you have known this phantom, you’ve grown so fond of him, and if he were to just disappear…

Sunghoon quickly snapped his mouth shut, lifting his hand and pointing down the hallway. With a slow nod, you followed behind him until you reached a small room for meetings, closing the door behind you.

You noticed his body language, and how nervous he seemed to be, “Everything okay?” You asked, leaning your back against the door, “You seemed eager to talk to me.”

Sunghoon took a deep breath, placing his hands on the back of the chair at the table, gripping it tightly, “I…I just want to tell you how well you did tonight.”

He’s seen you perform multiple times. But it wasn’t until hearing you sing tonight that really took him over.

You softly smiled, glancing down to the floor. It was the first time he’s complimented you. Sunghoon has only ever judged every play and would critique all the actors and singers. But never said anything about you. Until just now.

“Thank you,” you softly whispered, slowly looking back up to see him standing in front of you, eyes searching yours, “Sunghoon?”

How could he tell you he was crazy about you? How in love he was with you? He wasn’t even sure he could touch you. Yeah, he was able to touch other nonliving objects, but a living thing?

“Can I try something?” he asked in a low voice, barely lifting his arm. Your heart pounded in your chest and you could feel your palms starting to sweat. You were so sure he could see the nervousness on your face, yet you nodded anyway.

Sunghoon hovered his hand over your cheek, then slowly cupped your face. He released an exhale and smiled wide, “I never knew how badly I wanted to touch you until just now.”

Now you were so sure your face was red. Heart dropped down to your stomach, “You’ve been wanting to touch me?”

He nodded, “Can I try another thing?” You didn’t even answer him, reaching your arms out to fling them around his neck and crashing your lips to his, pulling the phantom against your body, not wanting any distance to be put between you both.

You also never knew how badly you wanted to touch him until this moment. And it was everything you could have imagined. He might have been a bit cold to the touch, but you swear he still felt warm against you. How was it even possible to touch him? It was a mystery, one you didn’t care about learning. All that mattered was him.

You don’t even know how long you stood there, pressed against that door with Sunghoon’s tongue down your throat, not that you cared anyway how much time flew by. Sunghoon eventually sent you home, and you couldn’t wait to see him again.

Sunghoon lost count of the times he’s touched you now. Lost count of the times he’s pulled you into rooms of the theater. The amount of times he’s pressed you against the walls and roamed his hands up and down your body. He was completely obsessed with you and everything about you. Nothing could get better or ruin this feeling.

Until something did.

Not just something. Someone.

Heeseung.

A new hotshot actor and singer that was added to the current play due to another one falling ill.

Sunghoon didn’t like him from the moment he looked at you for longer than a second.

You noticed a change in Sunghoon’s demeanor. Always wearing a frown and creasing his brows. Eyes always staring off, looking far away.

Usually during practices, Sunghoon’s eyes were always locked on you as he stood on the balcony. Always giving you smiles. But lately, it’s been nothing but frowns and looks of disgust.

“YN!” Heeseung called for you, running his hand down your forearm, “Want to help me go over this part?” You kept your eyes locked with Sunghoon, watching how he gripped the railing of the balcony, “YN?” Heeseung said with worry, now pulling your arm towards him and you finally meeting his eyes.

“What? Yes, sorry. I can help you go over this.”

Heeseung glanced up to where you were staring, raising a brow.

It took everything in Sunghoon to not jump from this floor. But what could he do? He can’t just yell at someone who can’t even see him.

Days passed and the closer Heeseung was getting to you. Always giving you smiles during free moments. Standing way too close to you. Touching you more than Sunghoon’s liking, even though he would prefer Heeseung not fucking touch you at all.

Sunghoon followed behind you after practice, his hand on your lower back, gripping the ends of your sweatshirt, afraid that you’d disappear if he let go.

“You’ve been a bit different, lately.” You said, keeping your eyes straight ahead, eyes being aware of the ones still in the building.

“Different how?” Sunghoon asked, his fingers gripping your sweatshirt even tighter.

You shrugged, “It’s like you are here but not.”

Your words hit Sunghoon hard. It made him realize how distant he had been. How more aware he’s been over another male than you, the love of his life.

“YN, I’m—“

“There you are!”

Sunghoon tightened his jaw.

Heeseung jogged down the hall until he stood in front of you, “Heeseung,” you smiled, and it killed Sunghoon, “You were looking for me?”

“Yes,” He smiled back, flickering his eyes over your shoulder, staring directly at Sunghoon.

He can’t see me…can he?

Heeseung flicked his eyes back to you and smiled wider. Yeah he can’t see Sunghoon, “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me?”

“Say no,” Sunghoon said quickly, fighting every muscle in his body from pulling you towards him.

Heeseung’s muscles in his jaw twitched and Sunghoon could have sworn he saw his ears perk up too, “I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done to help me, being the newbie and all.”

“Oh, of course!” you awkwardly giggled, reaching behind you in a manner of adjusting your clothing but shoving Sunghoon’s grip on it off, “Thank you, that’s nice of you.”

“YN,” Sunghoon whispered, “Please don’t go.”

It was hard to act as if Sunghoon wasn’t behind you. To not react to his pleas, “You don’t have a boyfriend, right?” Heeseung asked, quickly looking at Sunghoon and glancing back at you.

Did you have a boyfriend? Would whatever you had with Sunghoon count as a relationship? He’s technically dead, was it possible to date a ghost?

“YN,” Sunghoon whispered your name again.

You decided on saying nothing and just slowly shook your head, “Let’s just go get something to eat! I’m starving.”

Before Sunghoon could reach out for you, Heeseung had his hand on your lower back, pulling you along. And the smirk Heeseung flashed over his shoulder when you weren’t looking sent a chill down the ghost’s body.

There was no way Heeseung couldn’t see him.

“Sunghoon,” you moan his name as he pounded into you.

He’d be lying if he told you he wasn’t extremely pissed off that you went to dinner with Heeseung last night. Pissed off over the fact he knew Heeseung could see him, hear him, and knew the feeling he had for you and still made it a point to ask you out. How fucking dare he?

“Hmm, want to act like a slut huh?” Sunghoon breathed in your ear, gripping his fingers deeper into your hips, “Think just because I can’t leave this building means you can fuck around with someone else?”

You shook your head, hands gripping tightly to the edge of the vanity he had you bent over against, “Hoonie no, you know why I did it.”

“Hmm, do I?” he bucked into you harder, your jaw falling slack and wet moans escaping your orifice, “Seems like to me you rather be with him.”

“No no!” you chanted, pressing your face against the cool mirror, “I only want you. I only want you.”

Sunghoon knew you only wanted him. He could see it written all over your face every single time he saw you. But that didn’t stop the raging jealousy he felt. And the hatred he felt.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, flinging his head back and letting the wet sounds of his cock being buried in your pussy over and over again fill his ears. Sunghoon didn’t think it would even be possible to have sex let alone get his dick hard. But the moment he walked in on you changing after tonight’s practice his desire flooded him. And obviously seeing him get so worked up over you sent you clinging your thighs together.

“Hoonie,” you breathe his nickname, “Fuck, Sunghoon!”

“Hmmm, what baby? Tell me what you want huh?” he said slowing down his pace to an undesirable amount, causing you to fuck yourself against him.

“Please,” you cried.

“Please, wh-” Before Sunghoon could finish his words, out of the corner of his eye he saw the door creak open, barely being able to see the silhouette of the person on the other side of the fogged-over glass window.

Sunghoon smirked, picking his pace back up again, making sure he had you screaming and the mirror hitting the wall behind it.

“Please what, baby?” he growled, “Wanna cum? Is that it?”

You nodded, “Please let me cum,”

Sunghoon’s smirk grew, “Tell me you love me,” squeezed your hips, slamming you down even harder on him, “Say how good I fuck you and no other dick can satisfy you, not even Heeseung.”

You winched at Heeseungs name, piecing together the puzzle of why Sunghoon had been acting so strange. He was jealous. Being protective. Possessive. And you found it so fucking hot. So hot you were spitting the words right back at him.

“I’m in love with you,” it wasn’t what Sunghoon asked to hear, but you said it anyway, feeling the truth behind it with every syllable, “You fuck me so so so good and no one else can ever satisfy me. Only you, Sunghoon. Never Heeseung.”

Sunghoon smiled. A smile that was full of love and confirmation that you were his.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he moans, towering over your body as he fucked into you, his hands now gripping the tops of your against the mirror, “Fuckkkkk, baby I need to cum. Cum with me. Fuck.”

The dressing room was now filled with the sounds of your moans as a mixture of yours and Sunghoon’s cum dripping down your thighs.

When Sunghoon looked back at the door, it was now closed again.

Heeseung stood behind the stage, cracking his knuckles and stretching out his neck. It was opening night for the play everyone had been working so hard on. It was in between scenes. You were on stage singing a duet with another cast member beautifully for the crowd. Heeseung couldn’t help but smile. He’s had a crush on you since he laid eyes on you, and you never failed to amaze him.

His smile slowly faded, “I was beginning to wonder when you’d approach me,” he tilted his head to the side, staring into a pair of deep brown eyes, “Park Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon smirked, rocking on the heels of his boots and twisting his fingers behind his back, “You know who I am? I’m so touched.”

Heeseung chuckled, “I knew who you were before I stepped foot into this theater,” Sunghoon raised his brows, urging him to continue, “You’re a big name in this town, such a shame what happened to you,” Heeseung fully faced him now, “Death by a stabbing to the left side of your abdomen, right? Went right through your ribs and punctured your lung.”

Sunghoon was really starting to loathe this guy.

“I knew you could also see me, there was no way.”

Heeseung laughed, “At first I thought you were just following and watching our poor YN, until I realized anytime you looked at her…” his facial expression changed to a mixture of anger and jealousy, “She was looking right back at you.”

Sunghoon tilted his head, “What? Jealous are we?”

Heeseung shrugged, “Maybe over the fact you got to fuck her.”

Sunghoon was now getting angrier, “You heard her the other day, no one can satisfy her but me.”

“Are you so sure?” Heeseung took a step forward, “You aren’t even alive.”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, “Fuck off.”

Another step forward, “I bet I could fuck her so so so good,” another step, “Make her cum multiple times,” another step, “Hit all her sweet spots while I bend her over my bed,” and another, “Have her screaming my name so fucking loud she would forget who you even are.” One final step.

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes, “You won’t fucking touch her.”

Heeseung laughed, throwing his head back as the sound echoed against the walls. He flung his head back up, now narrowing his eyes back at Sunghoon, “At least she’ll be able to actually have a life with me.”

Sunghoon’s body twitched. Heeseung took one last step.

And he was right where Sunghoon wanted him.

Heeseung barely blinked before Sunghoon was now standing in front of him, faces barely inches apart. Blood filled his mouth, hands gripping Sunghoon’s wrists, “You damn bastard.”

Sunghoon looked down at his work, seeing the beautiful blade pushed into Heeseung. Right between the ribs and puncturing his left lung, “Ain’t so fun, is it?”

Heeseung’s knees grow weak, barely holding himself up and eventually dropping to the floor. Sunghoon followed him down, pushing the blade deeper into his body.

Blood spilled out of his mouth, bloody hands now falling to the floor, “You want to know what is so damn funny?” Sunghoon chuckled, glancing around the back of the stage room, “This is the exact same spot I was murdered all that time ago.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened, “Well, aren’t you one for an aesthetic.”

Sunghoon leaned closer to his face, “No, I just wanted to kill you. It just happened to be right where I was killed.”

It was Sunghoon’s turn to laugh, feeling Heeseung’s blood caking his hands. Is this how his killer felt? The adrenaline rush of hearing skin rip apart by a blade. Feeling the blade graze past two ribs. The feeling of his blood staining his hands.

Oh, the rush. The excitement. Now he knew why people committed such crimes.

“Huh,” Sunghoon said with realization, ��Full circle. Funny shit.”

“You’re fucking insane!” Heeseung snapped.

“Shhhh!” Sunghoon pressed a bloodied finger to Heeseung’s lips, “You’re going to miss the finale of YN’s beautiful voice.

Heeseung gritted his teeth, his vision fading as he focused on your voice.

“I’m going to fuck that mouth later.”

Heeseung jolted forward, using what small strength he had to lift his hands to grasp Sunghoon’s sleeve, “You’re a real piece of shit!”

Sunghoon shrugged, “I’m the only one good enough for her.”

“You aren’t even alive,” Heeseung said again through gritted teeth.

Sunghoon slowly pushed the blade in deeper, “I don’t give a shit,” he chuckled, “I’m still as alive as can be because of her.”

Heeseung’s vision faded more, black spots forming around Sunghoon. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

He dropped his head to the floor, right at the moment the final echoes of your singing voice bounced off the walls, “I’m going to fucking haunt you.”

“Oh, Heeseung,” Sunghoon cooed with a tilt of his head, “This theater can hold only one fucking bastard.”

With a final push of the blade in deeper, the color of Heeseung’s eyes faded, body going completely still.

Sunghoon stood up and backed away from Heeseung’s dead body, taking in his kill. Voices of the cast members appeared from behind him, then screams echoed off the walls.

“Someone call an ambulance!!!”

Sunghoon kept his smirk, slowly wiping the dried blood against his pants.

He slowly turned around, seeing you standing in the doorway. You looked beautiful in the tight-fitted purple dress, hugging your body to show off your curves. So beautiful with the way your hair is curled and pinned to the back of your head.

Everything about you was beautiful.

Even the way your eyes filled with tears as you took in your friend's dead body.

Your eyes shot to your lover, seeing Heeseung’s blood stain his clothing and hands. The tears streamed down your face as you stared so deeply into his eyes.

Sunghoon’s smirk grew bigger, slowly walking over to you, “What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered, cupping your face between his hands. The smell of the blood filled your senses, stomach turned at the very thought of how it would stain your skin.

Sunghoon killed Heeseung.

“I did this for us,” he forced you to look at him and away from the dead body, “I couldn’t let him take you away from me.” You let out a small whimper, “Oh, baby,” he shushed, “It’s okay. I’m right here. I love you.”

You were at a loss for words as Sunghoon pulled you to his body, holding you tightly.

No one was ever going to take you from him.

—tags: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns

@in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi

@eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty

@ladyartemesia @criminalyun @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @vixialuvs @onlyhyunjin

@enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng

@moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae

@kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip

@moon0fthenight @jakeflvrz @021894s @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @surrik-i

@heeseungsbm @niki-riki-nishimura-riki @star-hoon

#myiceprince #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen suggestive #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #slight smut #yeonzzzn writing

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theoxenfree · 19 hours

Text

DARK POOL

aquatic monster x reader | 2.8k

you're mystified by the strange noises coming from the basement. despite your uncle attempting to thwart your concerns, you make your way downstairs into the basement one night and come across an appalling sight, and soon enough, a blooming infatuation.

warnings; 18+, double penetration, explicit sexual details, imprisonment (not mc), some unsettling details, roughly proofread, repost from my old blog 2kmps.

this is a concept piece for a potentially long one-shot! pls answer the feedback questions at the end + reblog!! it really helps to develop a well-rounded story for y'all!

Uncle told you that the rats in Cape Tellis liked to swim and when they were in search of food, they didn't care how long they'd have to paddle through the water to find it. Some would simply drift with the current for days; black-gray fur rotted off, skin peeled off bone, little faces disfigured by sea and salt, but they would keep going until their bodies nudged the rust-red walls of the lighthouse and found the energy to scale upward to a window and squeeze inside.

He mentioned this anytime you had something to say about the ruckus down in the basement—sometimes scratching, sometimes powerful, erratic thuds that you felt pulse through the floorboards, through the rubber soles covering your feet, and into your skin. That place was sealed behind a rusted metal frame and door, deadbolted and locked with a key he always carried on a chain through a belt loop.

It always jangled when he walked because he had a limp so bad that his entire leg always dragged a pace behind him and took a great amount of effort to haul forward. When you had asked of it, as memory dictated a handful of years prior he didn't have such trouble, he first claimed it had been a bad sinus infection that got into his brain and disrupted something neurologically. In another instance where he had stopped for a third time on an evening stroll together, he had said he scuffed with one of Cape Tellis’ formidable rats and the mangy bastard had won and taken a chunk of meat out of him before scuttling back into the walls.

“Just ignore it, it's normal that they're active this time of year,” he was saying while scraping fried eggs out of a pan onto your plate. Meanwhile, you winced to the usual commotion downstairs. “They get real flighty this time of year. The rats do. They get frisky and chase each other all around. I don't know nothin' about them besides being persistent, ugly things, but it may well be their special season.”

You ripped a sharp edge in your toast and prodded the egg yolk until the sunny orb burst, oozing out across your plate before you could scoop it all up in the bread.

“How long does it take for the rats to go away?” you asked with some interest in his answer, if for no other reason to know what sort of yarn he'd spin next. The bread was buttered, the eggs unseasoned, but you ate it all anyway while watching him. “Are they permanent residents or do they come and go? You must be feeding them if they stay here.”

Uncle took a long time to situate his bad leg under the table, longer to arrange his silverware and the direction of his food. “Oh, they have no interest in leaving, I don't think. If they really wanted to, I imagine they would've jumped back into the water and swam somewhere else.”

Each time the noises rose up between the wood slats under your feet during breakfast, Uncle told you not to worry about it, but you quieted every sound in your head to better hear rattling metal, reverberations of some sort—like having a man’s deep, anguished moan pressed right against your ribs. You weren't sure what you were looking for when you listened, only that you knew they were rats.

Uncle looked at you, his appetite pushed away towards the center of the table with his plate. “Let's go for a walk, yes? The rain won't come back for a few hours.”

When you did walk after a meal, granduncle would often have to lie down with his dead leg propped up on a short stack of pillows for a long while. It became something of a habit of yours to exert him too much after dinner, forcing him to keep up with your youthfulness—your merry prances and unburdened soul.

For what it was worth, he did the best he could to never be a hindrance. He didn't seem to fully understand his own limitations either, making it quite a simple thing to steal the key from his belt loop while he slept—deep and silent, so much so that you needed to drop a tissue over his face from make sure he was still breathing—and unfasten the lock to descend a set of slick, stone stairs.

There wasn’t much to at the bottom; a space half-flooded from seasonal rains raising the sea-level, old pieces of ship equipment hanging like ornamentation, an old folding chair that had yet to rust despite damp air, and a large hole in the ground that was dark like the throat of a nightmare envisioned in the most precious hours of night.

You held a plate of raw meat, freshly thawed from the freezer, outstretched with a flickering lantern in your other hand. Anywhere else, you'd have just brung a flashlight—but, he didn't like the bright lights, had ripped the last one out of your hands and smashed it against the wall. Oil lanterns were better tolerated, but he still seemed to cower from the gentle flickers.

So, you placed the meat on the seat of the folding chair and walked closer to the hole, wading a hand through seawater until touching braids of cold metal, chains pulled taut as though weighted down by an anchor. You gave the closest one a tug, always with the same caution as a child gripping his mother's clothes in uncertain times, and backed away.

He never made noise when he surfaced, always frightfully quiet, only indicated by a trail of bubbles that followed after where he roamed underwater. The first thing to emerge was a dorsal fin flared proudly from the middle of his head until midway in the deepest curve of his back. His eyes were on you, abysmal black things with a luster you likened to a landbound fish, and skin and scales that moved stiffly with his facial movements.

“You,” said the creature, toneless and in a voice far too raspy and deep to have an equal match amongst human men. “You have come. You are here.”

Months ago, he hadn't been capable of simple speech such as this. The noises he made were incompatible to anything you had ever heard—perhaps mere vocalizations he utilized underwater, possibly something long gone and archaic—but he had started mimicking you when you'd speak, and eventually you started slowing down, giving him the time to feel how the sounds vibrated in his own throat.

“I brought you food, again.” You gestured towards the seat with raw meat with your lantern, prompting his passing glance of interest before he was back on you. “Not hungry? He usually doesn’t feed you that well. I haven't been down here in a week or so, so I figured you'd be ready to scarf it down.”

“No.”

He came closer and the size of him grew, a towering figure with strong, broad-shoulders and a chest built to withstand the friction of the sea he used to own. His face, although hidden in darkness and flickering shadow cast from your lantern, gleamed as the light struck his iridescent scales. The shape of his lips were human-like yet taut, helping to comfortably fit his sharp teeth inside his mouth.

You'd wondered at times what exactly he was, what your granduncle believed him to be and feared so much to hide him away, chained to a wall. You fantasized that he could be the lost prince of some underwater civilization, or the offspring of several thousands of years of evolution between humans and something else.

He never seemed to understand you when you asked him what he was.

“Come,” his reach was limited by the chains that bound his limbs, keeping him shy of touching your body. “Come to me.”

With the lantern set aside, a distance you hoped wouldn't turn him petulant, you walked in his arms and the shackles and made home there as he surrounded you. His embrace was not the sort you could escape, nor was the kiss he pressed against your mouth.

There were parts of him you were too scared to touch, where his scales were like serrated teeth and he had much less control to retract at will like the dorsal find along his back. His lips were smooth and cold, however, a safe place for you to be on his body along with the hard flesh on his chest.

He pushed himself into your touch as your fingertips traced the shape of his torso, rose with the sprawl of his breasts and shoulders, molded into the ridges of his lower abdomen that you felt pulse and tense the further downward you roamed.

The sheath around his groin had swelled significantly and seemed to twitch when you smoothed your hand across it, kneading it gently to see what would come of doing so. You'd seen this only once before several months ago, a time where you'd been more frightened of him and fled from the basement for weeks when he'd acted more aggressive than usual.

It was one of the many things he had taken notice of that were perceived negatively—with fear and distance and shutting him away in this deep dark until you found the courage to feed him again, because your uncle was petrified along with being restricted in his ability to navigate the stairs with his lame leg.

So, he had learned to behave at the worst of times to keep food supplied, for you to stay wrapped up in him like this and so curious to challenge the extent of his self-restraint.

His kiss had grown full-bodied and restless and gone elsewhere on your body to a great expanse of skin. His face nuzzled into the fabric hiding your warmth from him, teeth tearing and fraying the threads that kept your clothes together until you stopped him.

“Stop—wait, wait, wait.” You walked back out of his arms once he was able to recognize the words. He reached for you despite the clattering bonds around his wrist, but you took your time to shuck the clothes from your body and fold them.

Once he had you back, he led you to the edge of the pool of endless depths and sank down inside of it. Your toes touched the very edge of darkness, stirring a rabble of butterflies in your gut that did not dissipate even once he resurfaced.

"Sit.” He gestured right at where you stood. “Sit down.”

The idea of having any part of your body submerged in the black water left you with little desire in continuing this, but you obeyed and slowly lowered your rear to the rim of the pool, legs speckled by goose pimples as the cold water gripped up to the inside of your thighs.

“Yes, good.” He was close enough to push your thighs wide apart and stick his tongue inside of you. You took in a great sucking breath, startled from the suddenness of it and the long, articulate appendage massaging a part of you in a way no one ever had before.

You leaned back on your arms when they weakened and shook from the sensations, eyes flicking towards the drab ceiling, wondering just how far under the living quarters of the lighthouse you actually were and whether granduncle would hear any lewd sounds that were beginning to hum in your throat.

“Keep going.” He said when you moaned, tongue retracted from your body to mimic the ministrations you made with your hand and fingers while you stroked yourself. “Keep doing it.”

He nudged your hand away to put his mouth over that stimulated spot instead, sucking and licking along you with such fervor that you dissolved into hard pants and whimpers, tempted to close your thighs around his head and push him away as the tight warmth inside of you flushed out with a kaleidoscopic burst of color and cool air following the trail of something slowly oozing out of you.

It took a second orgasm and chanting turned to cries to get him off of you. That brief respite ended when he took you by the waist and dragged you into the pool with him. By that point, you were too far spent to have anything but unshakeable indifference to the depths and the cold.

His kiss was as it had been before, rough and restless, forceful in a way that left you malleable and melting against him. Even when he had your front wedged between the rim of the pool and his chest, you couldn't bring yourself to react much.

You felt his thighs mold to the back of yours before the slim tip of his cock pushed into you, the girth of it thickening considerably at the base. The friction of the water wasn't an obstacle for him to fuck into you with greedy thrusts that threw your hips forward, knocking skin and bone against the wall of the pool.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh—” the ridges of his cock were an unusual feeling, catching your walls in spots, spreading you wider when he'd withdraw part way and plunge back inside. “Oh, shit—feels good. Harder. Harder. Harder!”

There was truly never any way to know how much he understood when you said it, something called into question when his thrusts slowed to a stop, but he stayed hard inside of you. For a moment, the water settled along with your heavy breaths and blood gushing through your ears.

Things slowly came back into focus—the dancing lantern light, the room temperature meat, the wicked water in which you were immersed to the waist while the rest of you was braced by him.

He shifted behind you, adjusting his thighs so yours went even wider. Before you could ask the things you wanted to, a new sensation stole your breath—the swollen head of a second cock, different in shape and size from the first, pushed into you and lay flush atop the other.

“Don't—don’t move.” You were struggling to do the same thing with such an enormous stretch you'd never had to accommodate before. Tension built in your throat, whether a sob or a scream or your own anxiety, and stayed there to cinch your voice into silence.

He soothed you with lips and teeth all over your flesh; the back of your neck, the cartilage of your ears and the underside of your jawbone. His large hands left the shelf of your hips and felt along your front side, nipples, chest, stomach, and groin where he tried to recreate the same pleasure on you now as you had done for yourself earlier.

“Good?” He nested his cocks deeper when he heard you moan. The pain of it was beginning to subside, but the strangeness of it remained. “Is it good?”

“Just—just don't hurt me.”

His hands were back on your hips to keep you seated on his thighs while he thrust into you. It wasn't as easy for him to move as it was before, perhaps realizing the limitations of a human companion, but continued in snappy pulses that made the water lap at the skin on your back and turned your thoughts into senseless, garbled things.

Soon enough, you were riding a sloppy, savage rhythm to which you had no control of whatsoever as he chased his end. In moments where he seemed to regress into a natural state, almost animalistic in the way he rutted into you and buried his cocks, one would slip out and go forgotten for a time. The length of it glided against your groin, a smooth motion underwater that prodded your sore spots before he was able to fit it back into place with the other.

Amid your luscious sounds were those of his own; labored, air-sucking rasps that rumbled from places more than just his throat. They were probably never meant to be heard above the surface of water, just as he didn't belong fucking a human while being chained to a wall.

You thought about that fact while the last thrusts he took seated his cocks so deep that you ached, hard surges of warmth flooding your insides in a way unexpectedly delightful. He clung to you with his arms and shackles even well after he had emptied himself in your body and retracted both cocks into their sheath.

After a while, he hoisted you out of the water and followed you to retrieve your clothes. He stopped short of the chains pulling in the wall, watching while you wiped away the remnants of him oozing down the backs of your thighs and redressed.

“Don't go.” He kissed you and let his cold lips linger over yours. “Stay here.”

You returned the affection as endlessly as he gave it, only thinking that sunrise would soon come to pull you apart.

a/n: so, this idea has unfortunately never been able to fully develop from a lack of ideas. with starting this new blog, I'm hoping to get enough interest and feedback to actually commit to this and bring a completed project eventually!!

are you satisfied with how the aquatic monster was written in this piece? what would you be interested in having added/taken away? what do you think could be improved upon/expanded? is there anything you're particularly curious about?

what sort of setting would you like to see this story take place? 19th century, the 90s, or modern e.g. 2010+? are you satisfied with the setting being in cape tellis? a location inspired by lighthouse coastlines with predominately dreary/cool/wet weather? if not, what type of setting would you prefer to see?

in terms of the storyline, are you more interested in seeing: 1) a relative goes missing, so you arrive at the lighthouse he owned to solve the mystery 2) mc being an underwater mechanic to fix a damaged dam 3) mc being part of a small group trying to capture proof of a "creature" lurking around cape tellis. 4) something else???

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callsign-mayhem · 2 days

Text

sundress

Part one of my Heartbreak Feels So Good sequel series!

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Female!Reader Word count: 3.1k CW: Use of Y/N

Find the original series here!

It's been a week since you and Bradley confessed your feelings to each other on the beach. After an impromptu first date, Bradley takes you to a new Italian place on the seafront to wine and dine you like a true gentleman.

Natasha Trace was rarely wrong.

You stood in front of your full-length mirror, admiring your reflection—not just looking at it, but admiring it.

You weren’t a vain person. It simply wasn’t in your nature. But something about this yellow dress—the one you were going to wear for Jake’s leaving drinks—made you feel confident. It had been so long since you’d felt this way that you’d almost forgotten what it was like. Maybe the dress had magical powers, or maybe yellow was just your colour. Either way, you were relieved to feel like someone worthy of dinner and drinks with Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw. Nothing was worse than going on a date and feeling like you were punching above your weight.

You had Nat to thank for this. She’d warned you off of wearing it for Jake’s leaving drinks the Friday before because she thought it better saved for a more special occasion. The white dress had walked so this one could run, and now there was no reason to stress about finding an outfit on the day of your first date.

If you wanted to get technical, it was your second date with Bradley, but he didn’t class last Friday night as a date. You did, though. You were highly sentimental, and that night was more special to you because it was silly and spontaneous. Bradley thought it ungentlemanly, but it felt like something from a romance novel to you.

After your confession and makeout session on the beach, you’d practically begged him to take you out for food since he wanted to do things properly. As a man of his word, you knew he wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t go home with you unless he’d had a meal with you first. As a way of cheating his system, you’d convinced him to take you to In-N-Out, and he’d agreed as long as you promised you’d do things by the book the following week.

So he’d ordered an Uber, and when you arrived at the restaurant, you ordered more food than should have been allowed. You picked a booth in the window, and the two of you sat there until most of the food was gone, and you were both relatively sober. Bradley’s phone was dead, but the Daggers had been blowing yours up for two hours until you eventually had to answer. Neither of you wanted to reveal that you were technically on a date. Something about keeping it between the two of you made it feel more special and less pressurised, so you made up a lie and said Bradley had been sick and you’d taken him home before heading back to your apartment. You'd promised Jake you’d see him off Sunday morning and promptly turned your phone off.

After that, you’d sat in the booth talking until closing time, enjoying getting to know each other all over again. Because you’d sobered up, neither of you wanted to rush each other into bed anymore. You liked the idea of taking things slow, savouring every little moment, and doing things as Bradley had initially wanted. But neither of you regretted your impromptu first date.

Your phone pinged on your bedside, and you almost tripped over your feet in your haste to get to it. It was Bradley letting you know that he was leaving his and would be with you shortly. You were simply too excited to wait, so you grabbed your bag and hurried out the door.

It was a gorgeous evening, typical of San Diego. Sunlight cascaded down through the trees surrounding your apartment block, creating intricate patterns on the pavement. Birds circled lackadaisically above, in no hurry to get to any particular destination. A group of teens whizzed down the road on brightly coloured rollerskates, laughing carelessly. It was crazy to think you weren’t sure about settling here initially. Now, you couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

Bradley Bradshaw definitely had something to do with that.

You heard the Bronco before you saw it. The low rumble of its engine was exciting and comforting, as was the man driving it. You could see him grinning as he pulled in, cheeks flushed from the heat of the evening. Before you could hurry over and open the passenger side door, he jumped out of the car to do it for you. He admired your sundress, shamelessly wolf-whistling as you walked over.

‘You look dazzling, Y/N.’ He said by way of greeting.

When you reached him, you stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He wore tan dress pants, a brown belt, and a crisp blue shirt. The first three buttons had been left undone, teasing the top of his Herculean chest. He’d rolled his sleeves up also, revealing his deliciously veiny forearms.

Bradley Bradshaw was a well-wrapped gift, especially for you.

‘Thank you,’ you replied. ‘So do you.’

He grinned. ‘Our server’s gonna have to wear sunglasses.’

You laughed delightedly. ‘And everyone else in the restaurant, if you keep smiling like that.’

He helped you into the Bronco, buckling your seatbelt like he did the day of your breakup. It was a terrible day, but he’d made it better, as was his superpower.

During your drive to the restaurant, the two of you sang along to 80s classics—Karma Chameleon by Culture Club and Foriegner’s I Wanna Know What Love Is. Bradley made you feel comfortable enough that you weren’t embarrassed by your singing voice despite his sounding angelic. You were too overjoyed to be self-conscious, a clear signpost to Bradley being the one for you. With Elijah, you were always hyperaware of the way you came across. You overthought your appearance, the words you said, and even the tone of voice you said them in. And it wasn’t just because you wanted to control how he perceived you—it was because you had to be careful not to make him angry.

Where being with Elijah exhausted you, being with Bradley breathed new life into your mind, body and soul.

You arrived at the restaurant floating on cloud nine. He’d chosen a new Italian place right on the seafront. The interior was tasteful, and the views from the deck out back were worth dying for. As your server (who wasn’t wearing sunglasses yet) seated you, you silently hoped the menu was as well-cultivated as the place itself. You had the best seat right on the edge of the deck overlooking the ocean. Paired with your devilishly handsome date, it was already the perfect night, so if the food did end up being shit, you wouldn’t be too upset about it.

‘Can I get you guys started with some drinks?’ The server asked with a smile.

‘Two Peronis with lime, please.’ Bradley responded, flashing her his movie star smile.

She disappeared to get your drinks, leaving the two of you alone.

Bradley reached for your hand over the table, rubbing circles over your palm.

‘So,’ he said. ‘Our first date.’

‘Our first date was last week.’ You quipped.

He smiled fondly, shaking his head. ‘That wasn’t a date.’

‘It was, and it was the best first date ever. I’ll die on this hill.’

‘Okay, fine, our first civilised date.’

Your drinks arrived, and you both busied yourself with the menu. You’d skipped lunch to ensure you had room for dinner tonight, and your stomach growled audibly.

‘I’m going for the cannelloni.’ Bradley announced.

‘I think I’m gonna get a pizza.’ You replied. ‘Shall we get garlic bread for the table?’

‘Is that even a question?’

After ordering your food, you chatted about work and your friends. You already knew each other’s histories—family and otherwise—on a friend level, at least. You were still discovering topics you’d never broached and details left out from stories already told. It was exciting getting to know one another again, not nerve-wracking at all. You didn’t feel like a fish out of water as you had with Elijah.

The food arrived and was just as delicious as you’d hoped, if not more so. You ordered a glass of red wine and Bradley another Peroni. Since he was driving you home, you didn’t intend to drink any more. The waitress brought your drinks over, blocking your view of the double doors leading into the restaurant. You completely missed another server seating Penny and Maverick a few tables over. They spotted you before you were even aware of their presence.

‘Is that Lieutenant Y/LN?’ Pete whispered. ‘With Bradley?’

Penny glanced at the two of you, eyebrow raised. ‘It is. They look like they’re on a date.’

Pete blinked in shock. ‘He didn’t tell me he was dating Y/N. He didn’t tell me he was dating anyone.’

‘He doesn’t have to tell you everything, honey.’

‘I know, but this is big.’

He had to admit, it was hurtful to find out something like this in such a manner. He and Bradley had only been getting closer since they arrived home from the mission that had ultimately saved their relationship. Pete would have thought he might have mentioned that he was seeing someone, especially since it was a Lieutenant under his command.

‘From what I’ve heard, she’s only just gotten out of a relationship, which would mean that whatever’s going on between them is quite new.’ Penny pointed out, ever the voice of reason. ‘Maybe they’re not ready to share just yet.’

‘Maybe.’ Pete replied, frowning deeply. ‘Should we go over there?’

‘No.’ Penny hissed. ‘Did you listen to a word I just said? If they wanted us to know, they’d have told us. I’m sure the last thing they need is us ambushing them on what looks to be their first date.’

‘So we just sit here and pretend we haven’t seen them?’

‘Yes.’

You and Bradley were unaware of the conversation happening not ten feet away. You were too wrapped up in one another and the food in front of you to pay any mind to your surroundings, which was probably for the best. You’d agreed to keep things private for now, and it was working out quite well so far. Not having your friends involved alleviated some pressure to figure out precisely what was happening between you and where it was going; you could set the pace without any interference or judgement. Not to mention the thrill the two of you got from sneaking around and keeping such a massive secret from the rest of the Daggers.

‘Are we ordering dessert?’ Bradley asked once you were finished with your meals.

‘Is that even a question?’ You mimicked with a grin.

‘Touché.’

You stood up. ‘I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Order for me?’

Bradley took the opportunity to admire your full form again. ‘What would you like?’

You refrained from saying 'you.' ‘Surprise me.’

You waltzed off to the bathroom—with a bit of extra sway of your hips for Bradley’s benefit. You couldn’t believe how well tonight was going. During your tumultuous relationship with Elijah, you’d promised yourself that if things didn’t work out between you, you would never date again. Why would you want to when it had proved to be such a monumental waste of time? But then Bradley had swooped in, and now you could reflect upon how wrong you’d been. There was a reason things hadn’t worked out between you and Elijah, and it wasn’t just because he was a massive twat. It was because you were never supposed to settle with him. Maybe it was too soon to say, but you wanted to believe that you weren’t supposed to settle with him because you were supposed to settle with Bradley.

You exited the bathroom—which was just as showy as the restaurant itself—and headed back onto the deck. The later it got, the more people had arrived, and now only a few tables were free. You were wondering whether to text Natasha and ask if she wanted to come here for cocktails next weekend when you locked eyes with Captain Mitchell. He quickly glanced down at his dinner, clearly hoping you hadn’t clocked that it was him, and you hurried back to your table.

‘Hey, sweet thing. I ordered you-’

‘Mav is here.’ You panicked, sliding back into your seat.

‘What?’ Bradley started looking around.

‘On a date with Penny. Three tables to the right, just behind that lady with the big hair.’

Bradley leaned back so he could see past the big hair in question. ‘Well, shit.’

‘Guess the cat’s out of the bag.’

‘I’m gonna talk to him,’ Bradley announced. ‘Tell him not to say anything to the rest of the squad.’

‘Do you think he would?’

‘Not to be a gossip, but he might mention it thinking everyone else already knows.’

You nodded. ‘That makes sense.’

He leaned down and kissed your cheek. ‘I’ll be right back.’

Bradley couldn’t believe it. Of all the nights Mav could’ve taken Penny on a date, he chose tonight. At this very restaurant, no less. When they saw Bradley approaching their table, they were surprised to see him. If Bradley weren’t so good at reading between the lines, he’d have believed they had no idea he’d been sitting three tables away from them.

‘Bradley!’ Penny gushed. ‘You look handsome.’

‘Thank you, Pen.’ He smiled. ‘You look lovely as always.’

Maverick stood up, took Bradley’s hand, and hugged him. The short kind—the bro kind—involved a slap on the back.

‘Nice to see you.’ Mav said.

‘I saw you this morning.’ Bradley pointed out.

‘Is that Lieutenant Y/LN?’ Maverick asked coyly, glancing at you sitting alone. ‘I didn’t know the two of you were dating. Why didn’t you tell me?’

Penny glared at Mav, making Bradley think they’d discussed Maverick not saying exactly what he’d just said.

‘We haven’t told anyone yet. This is our first date, and we kinda just wanna keep it on the down low for now.’

The look Penny shot Mav this time said: I told you so.

‘Y/N just got out of a pretty shitty relationship, so we’re taking things slow.’

Bradley didn’t know why he was telling Mav all this. He was rambling, trying to hide the awkwardness of the situation.

‘Well, your secret’s safe with me.’ Mav assured him.

Bradley relaxed. ‘Thanks, Mav.’

‘You got a good one there, Rooster.’ Penny said. ‘Take care of her.’

‘I will, Pen. You don’t have to worry about that.’

They said their goodbyes, and Bradley headed back to you. The dessert had arrived: a large slice of tiramisu to share. You had been waiting patiently for him to return before digging in, a shiny silver spoon already in hand.

‘He’s not going to say anything.’ Bradley said, sliding back into his seat.

‘Whew. That’s a relief.’

He nodded. ‘But I think he was upset that I didn’t tell him about us.’

You frowned. ‘Did you tell him that we aren’t ready to go public? That this is-’

‘New? Yes.’ Bradley finished.

‘Maybe we could do a double date soon?’ You proposed. ‘It might help make Mav feel a little more included, and it’d be good to get to know him better since you’re so close.’

Bradley brightened at the suggestion. ‘You’d do that?’

‘Of course I would.’ You replied earnestly. ‘And I’m not just suggesting it to make him feel better. I actually think it sounds nice.’

‘You’re amazing, you know that?’

‘Yes, I do.’ You smirked, digging into the tasty-looking tiramisu.

Bradley refused to let you pay half of dinner. You vowed to make him let you pay for something sometime soon, even though you knew it would be difficult. He was a true gentleman through and through.

You spent the whole drive back to your apartment wondering whether to invite Bradley to come up with you and what it would mean if you did. You didn’t even know what you’d be insinuating if you did invite him up, let alone how he’d take it. Were you ready to sleep with him? Was he ready for that? By the time he pulled into your lot, you were steadily developing a stress headache.

He parked the Bronco right in front of the doors leading into your foyer, so you wouldn’t have to walk that far.

He reached the centre console and took your hand, and you turned to face him.

‘Since we’re doing this properly,’ he started. ‘I’m not coming up with you.’

You looked down, blush creeping across your cheeks. Had he been reading your mind? In the moment of silence that followed Bradley’s declaration, your brain tried to ruin the fantastic night you’d had with self-deprecating thoughts. Briefly, your thoughts wandered back to the second half of your relationship with Elijah and how little sex you’d had, the fact that when you did have sex, it was always about him. It never even crossed his mind to go down on you, and you had to hope you finished before him because once he was done, it was always game over.

Bradley put a finger on your chin, tilting your head up so he could see your face.

‘What’s wrong, sweetness?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Where’d you go just then?’ He pressed.

‘If you don’t want to be with me like that, it’s okay.’ You told him honestly.

His expression went from shock to anger and then hurt in the space of two seconds.

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘I don’t know.’ You murmured.

You tried to look away, but he kept his fingers on your chin, forcing you to look at him.

‘Listen to me. I want to be with you more than anything.’ He told you truthfully. ‘But I think we should go slow. I want to make sure we take things at the right pace.’

‘There’s no rushing something you want to last forever.’ You repeated from that night on the beach.

‘Exactly that.’

You leaned over and kissed him slowly and sweetly in the spirit of not rushing things. There was no urgency, just passion. Now he’d reassured you, you knew he was right. You weren’t ready to take the next step yet, and savouring the build-up was good. For all you knew, all these first times with Bradley might be your last.

‘I’ll walk you to the door.’ Bradley mumbled against your lips.

‘Are you sure you’re going to be able to resist coming up?’

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought he might change his mind about not spending the night. ‘I can wait. You’re worth it.’ He said. ‘But one of these days, I want you to wear that sundress for me again.’

‘Why?’ You whispered.

‘Because I think it’s going to look so good on my bedroom floor.’

A/N: I've finally gotten around to writing the first part of my sequel series to Heartbreak Feels So Good. This one's short and sweet, but I'll be writing some longer parts as the series goes on. If anyone has any suggestions or requests for moments they'd like to see in future parts, please let me know! Also, let me know if you'd like to be removed/added to the taglist for this series.

Taglist:

@crowdedimagines

@sadgirlgiselle

@sleepy-writersblock

@lovelyygirl8

@my-therapist-hates-me

@primroseluna

@eloquentdreamer

@sgt-barnesveins

@daybleedsintonightfa11

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writteninlunarlight-years · 2 days

Text

My Espresso

A repost of one of my first-ever stories. I guess it got deleted in my purge. Here it is back once again with a better name, lol

The day you died was tragic indeed for all parties involved. Your deranged stalker who killed you now serves life in prison, your fans continue to broadcast your music regularly, crying their eyes out, and your record label is on the hunt for the next ‘Hit’ girl. The only problem was you were a one-of-a-kind, naturally gifted with vocal cords, so sweet and sultry everyone fell for you. Your varying music genres make you an addiction to almost any music fanatic. You were the singer of your time.

How did you keep that title for so long? Simply put, due to becoming the designated ‘shot of espresso everyone needs to wake up and have a good day,’ your fans were less than kind to any new artists or rising stars. You were an Angle, sweet inside and out, never letting your fame get to your head. However, many scandals and theories have been made that people can never surpass you because you sold your soul or hired people to knock down your competition. None of this was true, though. You were simply a bystander to your fan's actions, not wanting to seem unthankful for all the support that got you there.

Then it happened: your death. One minute, you were walking to the coffee shop by your apartment in the city when a strange man started yelling at you. Of course, the one day you don’t have a bodyguard leave with you, the paparazzi show up. If only that man were a paparazzi; as he got closer, you noticed the lack of camera, the deranged look in his eyes, and the shirt he wore saying, ‘Y/N be my wife.’ All you could think of doing at that moment was trying to make some distance between you and him, seeing as the streets were barren since it was late at night. Why did your best music writing have to happen late at night? Running as fast as you could, the man grew angry, and then bam, next thing you know, you wake up on the streets of a city, not your city; no, this was too red.

As you stood up from your prone position, you glanced at a window only to see not you standing there; well, it was you. It looked like you, but it also didn't look like you. Soft tan skin, chocolate brown hair, Hazel eyes, and a white, tan, and brown outfit adorned your body. You looked like the embodiment of the coffee you would drink at your go-to coffee spot. If only you hadn’t gone there that night. Maybe you would be your normal (E/c), (H/c), (S/c) self.

Thinking hard about everything that happened, you remember being chased, him yelling obscenities at you, being shoved to the ground, something warm on your face, then a loud bang noise. What was that bang? You only remember the warm, sticky feeling, probably blood from hitting your head on the curb, then you fought a bit, squirming around; the bang must have been a concealed weapon of your assailant's choice. Jeeze, people are crazy…Oh fuck, your dead. You died. Gone. A memory. As this realization came to you, you began walking the streets of this new city.

All the inhabitants of this place looked like those demons you would see on TV or even read about in books. Looking up at the horizon, you see a large building with a flashing sign called the “Hazbin Hotel,” a giant ball to the left that looked like it had wings on it, and above you, a giant pentagram. The pieces finally clicked: you were in Hell, but why you were the sweetest human alive, even fame, didn’t get to you. Maybe Heaven reads tabloids and assumes you did participate in the fate of many of your rivals or that they thought you were a greedy pop star. Sighing softly, you turn your back on the hotel and make your way to the first place that helped you start up in the human world: a cheap manager at a cheap venue.

~~~Years Later~~~

Years had passed since Mimzy and her crew had taken you in. She was the only demon in Pentagram City that didn’t ask for your soul immediately. Course, as you found out yourself, it’s because her soul, too, was taken from her. Meeting Mimzy was a breath of fresh air; she reminded you of your grandmother and all the pictures you saw of her singing and dancing at nightclubs when she was your age. Mimzy took you under her wing, gave you a palace to sing your sweet new music, and protected you with her clientele. Mimzy did have a habit of getting herself into some deep shit, though. Nothing you couldn’t help with, see as your popularity in Pentagram City grew, so did your powers. Some even compared you to Lilith when she was still around, a voice to conjoin the masses. You were no Lilith; you were simply ‘Y/N,’ so you compromised for a reprise of your old title: ‘ A shot of espresso to keep you going.’ Honestly, who knew demons still partook in human drinks and activities?

As you began preparing for your next act at Mimzy’s club, said woman entered your dressing room. “Doll, oh, look at you so gorgeous. You're not as gorgeous as me, but you're still amazing. I have big news for ya’ Come and sit with me, deary.” Following Mimzy’s orders, you went to the small sofa in your Dressing Room and sat with her. “What is it, Mimz? Did you get in more trouble with those loan sharks? I told you they are dangerous; this owner of your soul is a real slow ass seeing as I have to save their ‘precious’ soul over and over again.”

Mimzy just laughed, waving her hand in your face, resituating herself to look you in the eye before speaking again: " Don't worry about that doll. Of course, I would keep that opinion to yourself. He’s back and probably can hear everything around us. Speaking of which, that is why I came here. My dear friend Alastor and the princess of hell are coming to visit our lovely establishment. Make sure to knock their socks off!”

You nodded softly to Mimzy, laughing at her; she was a firecracker of energy—a troublemaker, yes, but a firecracker of energy. Mimzy quickly excused herself, saying she needed to be ready to meet her guests and introduce the acts for the night. You sighed softly, returning to double-check your makeup and clothes again.

Looking like a gorgeous espresso martini, as Mimzy calls it, you stood center stage, waiting for the curtain to rise. You hear Mimzy’s tiny heels hitting the stage and some mic feedback. “Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you our star of the stage, your shot of espresso to boost you through hard times, our dame so beautiful and sweet, Y/N.” Cheers erupted in the audience as the curtain rose and a soft amber spotlight landed on you.

Looking out into the audience, you hesitated for a minute. A handsome man in a red suit sat in the center of the tables. He looked like a deer, not the oddest thing you have seen in the city. The way he was looking at you, though, was intense. You felt the need to cringe and back away like his power exceeded that of an average Sinner. He looked dominating, powerful, and scary even though he had a giant smile plastered on his face. Next to him sat a young-looking girl with big red cheeks. She looked so happy to be present at this event. Her blonde hair was pulled into a bun on her head, with a black crown adoring her. Your boss, Mimzy, was on the other side of the smiling demon, giving you a big thumbs up.

You took a deep breath when the song started to play on the drums and guitar behind you. You began to sing the song that had never been released to the public before you died. This was an important night for Mimzy, so why not go all out? As you began to sing, the nerves washed off of you, and you started to do your choreography, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of deep red eyes following your every move. As the song ended, you stopped center stage again, a soft, elegant smile gracing your face. “ Thank you so much, everyone. That was called Espresso, and I do hope you all enjoyed it. I will freshen up; please enjoy our band as they play some classic and new hits throughout the ages.” As you bowed and motioned to the band, they began to play. You walked off the stage, quickly stopping at your dressing room before heading to the floor and meeting the others at their table.

You finally heard this mysterious, powerful demon's voice as you approached the table. “I never took you as the kind to allow other music in your establishment, Mimzy. Weren’t you also one always found of our time's music.” Mimzy just laughed, slapping the demon's arm. Stopping behind the group, you noticed the demon's ears pull back; he knew you were there, good. You cleared your throat for the others and spoke gently, “I’m sorry. Was there a problem with my song, sir? I didn't realize I would be in the presence of a music critic in hell.”

The tension in the club could be cut with a knife as the demon let out a soft laugh and turned to view you. The young girl beside him was visibly panicking while Mimzy held a laugh back. The demon stood, bowing slightly and extending his hand to you. “Well, dear Y/N, it's nice to meet you. My name is Alastor the Radio Demon, and if you would like to call me whatever it was, you just made music by all means; I must be your critic.” That smile on his face never faltered. It stayed plastered there, if not a little more strained. Gently taking Alastors hand, you curtsied for him and stood straight and tall again, preparing to speak. “Well, Mr. Alastor, you don't seem to have good music taste, seeing as I am a prized singer in hell.” The two of you stared intensely at one another, sparks flying between your eyes. Mimzy cleared her throat, “ Y/N, this is Alastor, as he mentioned, the demon that owns my soul; he also runs the Hazbin Hotel with Miss Charlie Morningstar here.”

You let go of Alastors hand, breaking eye contact first to greet the young girl. Charlie was the polar opposite of ‘Mr. Music Critic’. She compliments you and tells you how you reminded her of her mother, who has been missing for seven years. Keeping conversation with Charlie, Alastor, and Mimzy began to speak on the side. “Isn’t she interesting, Alastor? She had to have been powerful even in her human form. She may not be your level of scary, but she is something. When I found her within a month, Valentino had come to claim her and ask for her soul; she whooped him physically and mentally; she's quick-witted and cunning.” Alastor nodded knowingly; this could be advantageous to him.

“Mimzy darling, why have you not sold her off yet? Could make a pretty penny off of her, maybe enough to pay me back for your soul.” Alastor stared at you intently. He couldn’t deny you were attractive in a beauty standard since, and the fact you weren’t afraid of him even if he dominated you in power was intriguing. Mimzy slapped Alastor’s shoulder, “She's like a daughter to me; she's sweet, smart, and a helluva singer. Why would I risk losing business here selling her off to the Vees or any other overlord.”

Tuning into Mimzy’s and Alastor's conversation, you turned to look at the Radio Demon in the eyes once more. “She also can’t get rid of me due to the fact I save her ass more so than you ever have or will.” The authority in your voice even frightened you. The smile on Alastors face tightened more, changing from boredom to interest. “Oh, is that so doll? You save my property for me.” You nod curtly to the demon holding his gaze. The smile slowly morphed into a smirk. Charlie chimes in, “Well, guys, it looks like we have overstayed our welcome; Y/N, you were phenomenal. Please let me know whenever you have your next performance. You have my number!” You nod softly to the cheerful girl before returning to the Radio Demon.

As you all begin to stand from your seats, Alastor disappears and reappears at your side. “Ms. Y/N, it seems I have a business proposition for you. As Charlie loved your performance so much and I seem to have bad taste in music, how about we strike a deal? You come to the hotel and live there for free; you can sing once a week, and if you can pull in some more sinners looking to be redeemed, I will admit you have the better music. I will also allow you to broadcast your music on my radio.” You stared at the demon timidly, but no one made a deal that didn’t involve losing their soul. You brace yourself for the answer and speak purposefully, “What is it for you if I lose?” Alastor smiled at you menacingly, “I get your soul, of course, and you will do my bidding.”

You hesitated, contorting your face slightly; losing your soul was not something you wanted to happen; no one did. You looked between Alastor and Mimzy rapidly, a slight panic overcoming you. As you go to speak, Charlie takes your place, “ Alright, Alastor, enough scaring people; we are leaving now. Let's go.” Alastor looked at Charlie before looking back at you. He nods slightly before saying, “I will return in the morning. Have your decision ready.” With that said, the duo left the club.

The night continued like normal; you sang a couple more songs and mulled over the conversation. You won't lie even if you were sweet on earth. Being here in hell made you a lot more prideful than when you were alive. Had someone offered such a stupid bet in the human world, you would politely decline, move on, and let your fans handle them. Alastor, though, something about him and this stupid condescending attitude made your blood boil. As the night closed, you came up with your decision. You went to your dressing room and began to pack a bag for the morning. You were so wrapped in your thoughts hating that stupid Radio Demon that you didn't hear Mimzy walk in. As you finished packing and turned around, Mimzy sat on your couch, a frown on her face. Setting everything down, you walked over to her and sat with her.

Mimzy looked at you softly, her regular, boisterous exterior fading as her calmer interior emerged. “Y/N, you don’t have to do this. I shouldn’t have done this. I only invited them to show Al how much better I was doing even after his absence. I didn’t expect him to bargain your soul with him.” You gently grabbed Mimzy's hand and looked at her, “Mimz, I got this. I am one of the best singers in hell. I will not lose my soul, and maybe I can bargain him into freeing your soul-” Before you could finish your thought, Mimzy stood up, tears in her eyes, “NO Y/N! You-You don't understand; Alastor is a notorious and powerful demon. He won’t give up mine or your soul. There is always an underlying bargain in his deals.” You looked up at Mimzy. She had never yelled at you like that before, even after ruining her favorite pink dress. Mimzy sat down gently and hugged you close before letting go. “Let me tell you Al’s story, the best I know of it anyway.”

Even after hearing Mimzy’s story, you are set on proving yourself. Why did you feel the need to? You could only chalk it up to wanting to wipe that stupid smile off the demon's face. You stood outside the entrance of Mimzy’s club, holding her hand. “Y/N, you don't have to do this. Just ignore him.” You shook your head at Mimzy before responding. “I can do this, Mimzy. Trust me. You know where I am if you ever need me.” She nods somberly and hugs you close. The Radio Demon appears out of the shadows as you two part ways. “Hello ladies, Y/N, Mimzy, what a touching display of affection. Are you ready to strike our deal, Y/N?” You nod gently, extending your hand to the demon. With a soft chuckle, he grabbed your hand. Greenlight erupted all around you. Shadows and relic symbols appeared around you as the deal was bound. As the green lights faded, you were sucked into the shadows with Alastor and taken to a Hotel on the other side of Pentagram City.

The hotel was lovely, nothing too overwhelming like when you were still alive. It was quaint and adorable. You could tell that Charlie put her heart into the place. Walking through the entrance to your left, you notice a bar with a black and grey cat sitting there drinking. Taking the initiative and having the desire to start already pissing the Radio Demon off, you walked away to greet the cat. “Hello, there one espresso martini, please; my name is Y/N, and I’m going to be a new resident and singer for the hotel.” Hearing your words, the cat looked up at you, practically spitting his whiskey onto the bar before collecting himself and cleaning up. In a gruff voice, he responded, “Never thought I would see the day we got more willing redeemers. Thought Sir Pentious would be our only one.”

You laughed, covering your mouth politely as the cat put your drink before you. As he finished wiping the bar down, Alastor appeared behind you. “Ahhhh, good friend, you have met our new resident artist. Y/N, this is Husk or Husker, as some patrons call him.” You nodded politely to the cat demon, sipping your drink. Alastor sat next to you, staring the cat down. He acted like it was a sin that Husk even talked to you. As you finished your glass, a spider demon walked into the building, groaning about his day at work, sitting on your other side, and ordering a straight martini.

As he rose his head up, looking to great Alastor, he saw you. “WOAH toots, who are ya’ you gorgeous? I didn’t know another pretty thing like me walked these streets.” You smiled sweetly at the spider demon, sticking your hand out to shake his hand. You liked him. He had spunk. “My name is Y/N, and I am the new resident singer of this joint.” Silence filled the room; the spider demon's eyes widened. Looking at him confused, you pulled your hand back and awkwardly sat there. Behind you, Alastors voice rang, “Yes, dear flamboyant friend, that Y/N, the one who took Valentino down a few pegs before he became part of the Vees.”

The spider's smile grew ten times as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “Toots, let's be best friends, deal. My name is Angel Dust. It's a pleasure to meet you.” You laughed softly, connecting that this Angel Dust might be the soul of that awful month. “Deal, I need new friends now that I am out of Mimzys club.” Husker dropped his bottle, causing a shattering noise as he turned to stare down Alastor. “You were Mimzy’s singer; what are you doing here?” Alastor stared down Husker, the ever-growing smile present on his face as power exuded off of him. “Simple Husk, can’t you tell she's in a deal with me.” The room went silent as you looked down at your hands. Based on everyone's reactions, you soon realized you were fucked.

The tension was thick between the three of you, Angel silent, not daring to interfere in a soul contract, Husker glaring at Alastor, and the Radio Demon eating up everyones distrust. What felt like hours passing was only a few minutes when Charlie and another woman appeared walking down the stairs. “I am telling you, Vaggie, I heard a new voice.” Your eyes connected with Charlie when she let out an excited squeal, barreling down to you. You laughed softly, happy the tension was broken, and hugged the excited girl back. “Oh my goodness, you came here! Are you trying to be redeemed? I am so excited! Vaggie, this is the singer I told you about!” You looked at the other girl and waved at her. When Alastor stood, she nodded back, getting ready to speak to you; however, Alastor had removed Charlie from your embrace. “Sorry, dear Charlie, but Y/N is part of my deal. She will be a new singer for the hotel, as Husk is the bartender, and Niffty the cleaner.”

As if hearing her name, a tiny, child-looking demon crawled from the depths of somewhere and sat on Alastors shoulder. “Wowie lady, you must sing well for Alastor to vouch for you. You aren’t no bad boy, but you look like you could be tough.” You stood wide-eyed in shock at the minor demon that seemed to spawn into existence. Alastor stood beside you, shooing Niffty off him and placing a firm hand on your shoulder. “Alright, dear Y/N, why don’t I show you to the drawing room where you will perform? You have three days before your big performance.” Everyone looked at the hand placed on your shoulder, confusion laced on their faces. Was Alastor, not a touchy person? All you’ve known of this man was for him to be touching you in some dominating way. You nodded briefly, following the demon to the drawing room.

You had been practicing hard for the last three days. You met Sir Pentious while in the middle of a practice performance. He was apparently your biggest fan and regularly played your music in his blimp. You signed some autographs for him and told him he was welcome to come and watch whenever he felt like it. Of course, he never did come back while you were practicing. Angel Dust said Alastor frightened the snake demon, who was “getting too close to you and distracting you.” This only confused you: why is Alastor so against any demon getting close to you except for the striking spider demon? Two, why does he care if you get distracted? Shouldn’t he want you to lose so he can keep your soul? These thoughts plagued your mind every day as you practiced. You decided to do a four-song set, your three most popular songs and the new one you debuted at Mimzys place before you left, as a nod back to your old home.

Throughout your days here, you have noticed so many odd quirks about these residents, but nothing too crazy. I mean, it is hell after all. Angel Dust was a famed porn star for Valentino; Husker used to gamble at the high-end casino in town; Nifty liked cock roaches; Charlie and Vaggie were fighting with Heaven about Sinners being redeemed. Even Sir Pentious had a past saying he tried to kill Alastor, which made you laugh and congratulate the snake demon. The only major oddball was Alastor; every resident said he was acting different, more pompous, possessive, and aggressive. Before you showed up in his life, he was just a condescending asshole who smiled all the time and had a wicked sarcasm streak.

What made you special? You have been nothing but mean to this man, trying to get a rise out of him and knock him down a few pegs. The main consense from every resident after they learned of your deal is to be careful; he's a master manipulator. The tidbits of information you learned of Alastor were as follows: he hosted a radio show that, up until seven years ago, played screams of his victims; he still very much missed the 1920s; Jazz was his favorite music, makes sense why he hated your pop music, and lastly like any true child of the bayou he enjoyed his coffee, his coffee with three shots of espresso. No wonder the man was wired 24/7.

Alastor was also not a touchy man; the only person any resident had seen him touch so constantly was you. Why? No one knows the answer; Angel Dust has his theories that he “has the hots for ya toots.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that notion. The pompous, rude, robust, attractive, funny, charismatic Deer Demon didn't have a thing for you. Okay, yes, you have a thing for him, though; what changed in the three days of getting close to him and everyone else? You have no real idea; you only know that the day you realized you had more than aggressive feelings for him was two nights ago.

~~~Flashback~~~

You had been summoned to the famed radio tower by Alastor. He had a treat for you, as he put it. Following Niffty's instructions, you ended up before the radio demon's door. Now you heard the rumors already he killed and broadcasted in his tower. Did your deal mean nothing? Was it a ruse to get rid of someone with a little bit of power? You must have been standing there for too long in your thoughts because before you knew it, Alastor had opened the door for you. “Ah, dear Y/N, come on in. We have a broadcast to get to.” You nodded gently and followed him inside.

Taking your place beside Alastor, you notice how cluttered his desk is. You stifle a laugh; the thought of the infamous radio demon who looked so clean and polished having anything untidy amused you. You see Alastor pouring his regular coffee as you turn to the small end table with some chairs. “Alastor, I never would have taken you for a coffee drinker. You seem more refined to like English teas or other sophisticated drinks.”

Alastor just looked at you with a small, unstrained smile. As he finished his drink and poured you one, he said, “Nonsense dear Y/N coffee is highly sophisticated; Louisiana was a large export of coffee grounds we lived for this drink. Coffee was the way to go when we needed to work long hours tending to fields or making ends meet at factories.” You nodded gently, amazed that this man remembered his life so well after so long. While you sat and drank your coffee, Alastor got up to prepare the broadcast. While he was busy, you took this time to examine the Deer Demon in more detail.

He was handsome; his fringe was odd but suited him well, the unforced smile looked attractive, and his suit was perfectly fitted, leaving just enough imagination about what lay underneath. As you caught yourself having this thought, you shook your head, setting your cup down violently. Alastor turned to look at you, his smile still soft but a questioning look in his eyes. You coughed softly into your napkin and stood to meet Alastor at his desk before speaking. “So Al, what is it you need of me.” His reaction to the nickname did not go unnoticed.

Now, the original reason you decided to use the nickname he hated was to get under his skin, but instead of doing that, he smiled at you wider. Gently, he placed a microphone and headphones in your hand. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. “I believe that for people to know you are here at the hotel and will sing, they need a sample. We may have a deal on the line, but I am no cheater.” You nodded, smiling at him; maybe he wasn’t so bad. As the broadcast started, though, the same pompous ass hole came out. Boasting about being missed and how he can't wait to give Sinners of hell an actual broadcast, he introduced you. “Now, my dear patrons, I introduce Y/N. Some of you may know her and even love her, but tonight she will be singing a song for you, a taste into her performance that will be happening here at the Hazbin Hotel in two days.”

You gripped the microphone and started singing one of your more classic songs. Only the people at Mimzys club that night had heard the new song, and you didn't want to ruin the surprise you had been working on for your concert. As you sang, you couldn’t help but notice the red eyes boring into you. Was Alastor checking you out? No, of course not. This is just to even out the deal. However, how his eyes softened and he hummed gently to your tune made your heart flutter. He sure learned one of your songs for someone who hated your music.

As you finished your part in his broadcast, Alastor played some old-time Jazz, muting the mics before leading you out the door. You said your goodnights and began to walk away when Alastor grabbed your arm. You turned to look at him, a sweet, innocent look in your eyes; a part of you wanted him to kiss you right there. However, you could see his conflict. After a few seconds of staring at one another, Alastor let go of your arm and cleared his throat, “Good night, Y/N. Be prepared for our deal.” You nodded, and before you could ask him what was wrong, the door was closed and locked in your face.

~~~Present Day~~~

The day you had finally come for your concert. You had spent most of the day resting and preparing for the show. It had been over a week since your last live performance. You took your time getting prepared, wanting everything to be perfect. You double-checked your hair outfit and even dabbed on an old perfume you found while shopping with Angel. Did you buy this specific sent because it was trendy in the 1920s? No, of course not. You weren't trying to impress the famed Radio Demon during your performance tonight. It finally dawned on you as you did your last touches. You either become soulless tonight or beat the Radio Demon. A shiver ran down your back; you were so caught up in falling for the man that you forgot he was ruthless and owned you now. It's not that you minded the owning part; you minded the soulless part.

A soft knock was heard at your door, and you released a quiet “come in.” As you turned from your vanity to see who had entered, before you stood, Mimzy, you ran to your mentor and hugged her close. “You came, you came. I thought you would be too mad at me to come.” Mimzy slapped your shoulder gently before speaking. “When have I missed one of your shows since you started working for me? Plus, Alastor personally invited me and gave me a front seat. I don’t know if it's to torment me that he's going to take your soul or if mister Deer likes you.” Mimzy began nudging your side. You stifled an almost forced laugh, your cheeks growing warm. “Mimzy, you need to lay off the alcohol. That is an absurd statement. Alastor doesn’t like me.” She gave you a knowing look. “You may think he doesn’t like you, but I can tell you sure like him.” You looked away at the floor.

Mimzy gave you a few more encouraging words before returning to the drawing room. According to Mimzy, there was already a large number of people filling the place. Charlie must be going nuts trying to recruit people. With a final glance in the mirror, you began to walk to your call point. Instead of your average tan and brown ensemble, you wore an elegant blood-red dress for tonight's performance. One that just so happened to be in your closet this morning when you started to get ready. You did your hair up and let some pieces frame your face, your makeup soft and subtle, giving you a sweet, angelic look.

Charlie introduced you to the crowd; as you took center stage and waited for everyone to calm down, you began your set. You looked out to the crowd like you did all those nights ago, and sitting right in front of you were your new friends and him. He didn’t look smug or dominating this time. No, this time, he looked calm and compassionate. Even if you looked hard enough, it almost looked like he was enjoying himself. He wore a suit practically identical to your dress in color. You promoted the hotel between each song as you sang. Your first three songs went perfectly, keeping the crowd entertained to the fullest as you always did. Once your last song died down, the crowd erupted.

A slow interlude played as you spoke softly: "I wrote this last song a long time ago when I was alive. I have only sung this song once at Mimzy Speakeasy, so if you were one of the lucky few to hear it, please feel free to sing along and enjoy it to the fullest this time.” You smiled softly before landing your eyes on Alastor. You don’t know what possessed you to sing this song, looking directly at him, but you couldn’t help it. You felt compelled, too. As the begging notes to Espresso started playing, a small group of people cheered, including Charlie.

You began your normal choreography and sang your heart out, never taking your eyes off of Alastor for long, and from what you saw, he never took his eyes off of you for long, either. Singing your heart out as you finished the outro of the song you posed, letting the cheers and lights fade out. Charlie rushed to the stage and informed everyone about food, refreshments, and signing up to join the hotel. You, however, hid behind the curtains, blushing. Why was he looking at you so intently? Why were you suddenly so shy and concerned you sang poorly? You always had confidence in your singing.

Collecting yourself, you quickly refreshed your look in the bathroom before joining the after/recruiting party. As you were going down the hotel hall to get to the main part of the drawing room, an uneasy feeling hit you. An anxious, familiar feeling. You turn your head, and down the hall, you see a man making his way towards you. You turn around and keep walking, ignoring his shouts as you try to beeline for the entryway. You are panting at this point, memories of your death coming back to you, everything feeling too close to that moment. Just as you are about to turn the corner into the doors for the drawing room, the man reaches out for you. You brace for impact; however, nothing happens. You hear sickly screams emanating from before you as a pair of arms gently encase you in a protective embrace. As you open your eyes, you see shadows tearing the man who looked to be a part of the Vees team apart. Alastor covered your eyes before walking you back towards your room.

You didn’t even realize you had begun to cry or shake when you got to your room. The anxiety of reliving that night you died catching up to you. Alastor never let you go, even after you got to the safety of your room. Once you calmed down, Alastor went to the bathroom connected to your room. You sat there holding your face in your hands, probably looking like a mess from your actions. Alastor re-entered the room and brought you a fresh, damp towel. “To wash your face off; you probably don’t want all that on you anymore.” You nodded softly and began to wipe your face. Alastor scoffed, then took the towel from you, crouching down. Alastor gently held your face and began to clean it off. You two never broke eye contact. He was so gentle.

After your face was cleaned, Alastor took the pins out of your hair and went to find some more comfortable clothes for you. You were ushered into the bathroom and began to change when, through the door, Alastor began to speak. “Did he hurt you at all? I tried to get there as fast as I could. Before you came on, Mimzy was telling me about the night you died. I assume the Vees and their minions must have overheard and, in an attempt to weaken your resolve, make you remember that night.” You sniffled lightly, slowly opening the door, and you looked up at Alastor. Where was a man like him when you died? No, where was he when you passed that night? A choked sob left your lips as you hugged him close to you, crying into his shoulder. Alastor was amiss on what to do, but slowly, as you cried, wrapped his arms around you as well.

As the tears faded, a green glow surrounded you and Alastor again, like when you first made the deal. No one signed up for Charlie's hotel, whether because the demon was mutilated one door over or because you didn’t come to socialize with the guests. It didn’t matter; Alastor had your soul now. Oddly enough, you weren’t as upset by this as you anticipated; you were happy about this. You felt safe, protected even.

Alastor bid his farewell to you after you had finally calmed down. Neither one of you speaking about the contract or lost deal. You lay in bed, exhausted from all the crying and anxiety. As you drifted off to sleep, you saw your assailant again. This wasn’t an uncommon dream for you, but this time, it hurt worse due to the raw emotions. However, just as you were about to die again for the millionth time in this dream, a man dressed in red with brown hair and a soft smile protected you and saved you.

You had been asleep for a little less than 24 hours when you woke next. Your body needed a recharge. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee; if you were staying at the hotel to sing, you could start putting together new songs and programs. You made your drink, noticing that Alastor's cup was missing from the cabinet. Taking your hot coffee back upstairs, you passed the hall to your room when you heard a piano playing your song Espresso.

You made your way to the door and entered quietly to find Alastor playing your song, humming quietly in tune. You knocked gently and said, " Al, if you wanted a concert yourself, I would have given you one.” You smile softly. Alastor, unfazed by your appearance, probably already knowing you were there, hummed in amusement before speaking. “As a thank you, why don’t we perform a duet for me saving you?” You made your way over to the piano, sitting down next to him and setting your coffee cup next to his on the piano.

He began to play the start of the song, and you two began to sing together. Softly, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with your feelings for the man next to you. You had never sung this song like this before, and it felt special between you two. Some of you began to believe that this song was made for you and Alastor. Before you died, you knew you would meet your match—someone who met you as an equal yet also an opposite. Alastor finished the last few notes of the song. Comfortable silence surrounds you.

Alastor smiled more naturally, “You know, Y/N, I do like your music. It did catch me off guard the first time I heard it, but your music has a lot of truths in it.” You look up at him from his shoulder, listening to his words. “From the moment I looked at you, I couldn’t get enough of you; when I met you, and you challenged me almost instantly, I knew I had to have you. You keep me awake at night thinking about everything that has happened between us in the last few weeks.” You smile softly, thinking back to the lyrics of your song. You lean up gently and place a kiss on Alastors cheek. He laughs softly when he turns to look at you thoroughly. “I’m sorry, doll, but you may have misunderstood me. I like you a lot; I feel that deserves more than a mere peck on the cheek.” You laugh wholeheartedly, this time without covering it up, before placing a soft, chaste kiss on Alastors lips. You pulled back, both of you smiling. “Now that’s an espresso I would happily take any time.” You laugh at his antics before placing your hands on the piano, now playing an old song you remembered from when you were a kid.

All was well. Who would challenge the infamous Radio Demon, especially now that he had the notorious addictive ‘Espresso’ singer as his girlfriend? With your powers combined, he could overcome the deal he made, but that is a story for another time.

#x reader #lunarwritings #moons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin #hazbinhotel #hotel hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin fanart #alastor the radio demon #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x you

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mcflymemes · 2 days

Text

PROMPTS FROM SONGS ON MY PLAYLIST * assorted lines from random songs, adjust as necessary

i can't forget this evening, or your face as you were leaving.

you always smile, but in your eyes your sorrow shows.

the sun is going down. it's getting dark.

you look bewildered.

i can't give anymore.

you know i want to do it again.

better things will come our way.

you were always there for me.

i know it's not mine, but i'll see if i can use it.

i see the light in your window.

you know i tried, and i'm sorry.

kiss me if you mean all the things that you say.

one night can make a difference.

please don't leave me hanging.

it's just heartbreaking.

i've got such a long way to go.

i don't want to do your dirty work.

i want you to know that i'm happy for you.

i should have known that it would let me down.

i used to dream about this town.

it's such a shame about it.

there's always magic in the air.

they're dead wrong. i know they are.

nobody's supposed to be here.

tell me what's wrong.

put your arms around me, baby.

show me where you've been.

it may sound funny, but i've come to get my money back.

i know you like what you see.

there is no way you can deny it.

you were always sure of yourself.

who's to blame?

i've had enough of walking from place to place.

you're not what we're looking for.

honestly, i'm not trying to be anybody but me.

can i see you later?

i kinda hope we get stuck.

do you think anybody's actually gonna dance to this?

the answers you seek will never be found at home.

i don't want to leave the comfort of this place.

let's make our escape.

i feel like i'm alive for the very first time.

it's been a while.

i'm not sure why i called.

i was thinking maybe later on we could get together for a while.

it's been such a long time and i really do miss your smile.

it really doesn't matter much to me.

i won't ask for promises, so you don't have to lie.

watch out. you might get what you're after.

we're in for nasty weather.

here's your ticket.

you might need a raincoat.

you can go. sleep at home tonight.

who are you?

i really want to know.

god, there's got to be another way.

it's the one good thing that i've got.

i would really, really love to stick around.

i think there's something you should know.

you made a lot of mistakes.

hey, it happens to us all.

you can do what you think is impossible.

don't close your eyes.

i want your love.

don't look back.

it's only been a week or two.

sooner or later, you'll come rolling back to me.

it gets so lonely here inside my head.

what's wrong with right here on the counter?

i had to stop for the night.

please bring me my wine.

last thing i remember, i was running for the door.

you can check out any time you like but you can never leave.

i'm just in awe of what's in front of me.

i'm sipping wine in a robe.

i look too good to be alone.

every word that i say is coming straight from the heart.

#rp meme #mcflymemes #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #ask memes #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox meme #inbox prompt #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters

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fanfic-she-wrote · 2 days

Text

Second Chances

(Beetlejuice x Lydia Deetz)

Chapter 1

(Spoilers for Beetlejuice Beetlejuice ⚠️ Do not read if you haven’t seen the movie!)

Chapter 2:

Breakfast was quiet as Astrid and Lydia sat at the table both lost in thought about last night. Lydia was thinking about Betelgeuse and whether or not to contact him. Did he even want to see her? Probably not. She thought mindlessly stirring her cereal around in the bowl with her spoon.

Astrid on the other hand was wondering why her mother was near the attic at all. Was she just going up there to check on things like she said or was she actually going to see Betelgeuse. Why she wanted to she didn’t understand. If only her mother would tell her.

Astrid looked up at Lydia and noticed how far off she looked. Something was bothering her. She opened her mouth, hesitating for a moment to say anything.

“Mom?” She spoke.

Lydia looked up looking almost surprised at the sudden interaction. “Yes?”

“Why were you going up to the attic last night?” She asked, hoping she would give her an honest answer this time. There was a long pause as Lydia was trying to decide exactly how to respond.

“I don’t even know. I just couldn’t get him out of my head.” Lydia finally answered.

“Like he’s haunting you?” Astrid asked, sounding concerned.

“In a sense... it’s like I’m drawn to him. I want to talk to him.” Lydia said looking down at her bowl almost feeling ashamed for wanting to but she couldn’t help it.

Astrid stared at her for a moment trying to process what she had said. She couldn’t believe she would actually want to see him. “Could he be manipulating you somehow?”

She shook her head, no, in response.

“There is just something about him. I can’t explain it but it was different this time. He was different. The ways he helped us out…and even during the wedding he was in a weird, slightly creepy way, kind of sweet.” Lydia admitted.

There was a long pause.

“You must think I’m crazy right?” She murmured still not looking at Astrid.

“Well…I don’t get it but if that’s what you want to do, I support you.” Astrid told her, placing her hand over Lydia’s.

“Thank you.” She said letting out of sigh of relief, grateful her daughter understood.

“Hey if it were me swooning over some dead guy you’d support me too right?” Astrid remarked.

“I am not swooning!” Lydia exclaimed a faint blush forming on her cheeks.

“Sure, sure.” The teen smirked, rolling her eyes jokingly.

—————————

Betelgeuse walked about the tiny model cemetery which he did on occasion, playing over the almost wedding in his mind. He had it planned out so perfectly. He was sure Lydia wouldn’t be able to say no. He did everything Rory didn’t and it still wasn’t good enough. If only she’d give him a chance. Just one kiss and—

Suddenly, he heard the door creak open. He stopped dead in his tracks and watched as Lydia made her way over to the model town. Why was she here? He wondered.

Lydia took a deep breath, preparing herself for what she was about to do.

“Beetlejuice.”

The room suddenly became very cold and the drapes fluttered wildly even though the windows weren’t open.

“Beetlejuice.”

The attic became an eerie green color and smoke began to emanate from the model town before her.

“Beetlejuice.”

Then everything went dark and silent. She held her breath, waiting in anticipation.

“You called?” A gruff voice spoke from behind her making her jump in surprise.

“You really need to stop sneaking up on people.” Lydia snapped.

“Hey, it’s what I do.” Betelgeuse shrugged.

“So, what do you want now?” He said trying to sound more indifferent than he felt. Secretly he was glad that he could see her again. He wanted to be mad at her, but couldn’t.

“You.” Lydia answered simply. Betelgeuse looked down at her, stunned at her response. Did he hear he correctly?

He stuck his finger in his ear to clean it out, but instead of earwax he pulled out a little green bug. He flicked it across the room and turned back to Lydia. “Say that again?”

“I want you. Just you.” Lydia clarified.

“Wait? What? Really?!” He asked, perking up. She nodded and gave him a small smile.

Without warning, he pulled her into a hug and spun her around. “I knew you’d come around! You won’t regret it! I’ll-“ She pushed him away and placed a finger on his lips, shushing him.

“I want to go slow.” She told him. “I won’t send you back, but you have to promise to behave.”

Betelgeuse nodded his head in agreement. “I’ll try, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up babe.”

“Beetlejuice!”

“Eeeee! Ok, ok! I’ll behave.” He exclaimed with a flinch.

“Good!” Lydia smiled, satisfied with herself and turned back towards the door, Betelgeuse following her.

“What about a little mischief? Maybe scaring the occasional Jehovah’s witness?” He asked hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Aww cmon, ya gotta work with me here! I can’t just quit cold turkey.” Betelgeuse insisted half jokingly.

“I’m serious. I’ll send you back.” Lydia assured him.

He let out a defeated sigh. “Ok, ok fine. I can do this…but only for you.” He said pointing towards her.

Lydia’s heart skipped a beat repeating what he said over in her mind. “Only for you.”

#so much dialogue #hope its good #beetlejuice #beetlejuice beetlejuice spoilers #beetlejuice x lydia #fanfic #keatlejuice

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cvrnelians · 2 days

Text

dead souls - chapter one

dark!Peter Parker x reader: You haven’t been the same since your boyfriend died—a shadow of your former self. Peter intends to change that.

warnings: minors DNI, 18+ non-con, stalking, obsessive behavior

“I didn’t see that”

The man stumbling by came to a halt, now standing directly in front of you. You couldn’t know for sure, but you surmised that whoever this man was, he had certainly seen better days. He looked around your age, twenty six or so. His face was littered with cuts and bruises, poorly concealed beneath a black baseball cap. His right hand was wrapped up in an ace bandage and he seemed to be walking with a limp, causing him to trip and fall onto the grass mere seconds earlier. To his credit, he recovered quickly. He dusted himself off and surveyed the area as inconspicuously as he could, checking to see if anyone spotted him.

Evidently, someone had.

“See what, exactly?”

You stopped reading your book and looked up at him.

“Some poor guy faceplanting out of nowhere. Didn’t see a thing.”

He chuckled to himself, crossing his arms. He lifted his chin a little and nodded at you, as if challenging you. “Some poor guy, huh?”

“It would seem so.”

“Yeah, well this poor guy doesn’t need your pity. And he has a name.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, excuse me. Some rude, unappreciative guy faceplanting out of nowhere. My mistake.”

“It’s Peter, actually. In case you were curious.”

“You wanna know something?”

“I think I’m probably gonna hear it either way.”

“I got a top tier view of you wiping out earlier. But fortunately for you, Peter, I’m an exceptionally nice person. So of course I’m going to pretend that I didn’t see a thing.”

“An exceptionally nice person,” he echoed. “You got proof of that?”

“I didn’t laugh at you.”

“So?”

“I could’ve.”

“Did you want to?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to admit to that one. You look pretty scrappy. Rough night?”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “Oh, you have no idea.” And then, as if saving face, “You should see the other guy.”

You were both quiet for a few seconds as he studied you, a lopsided grin on his face. Beneath the injuries and the slouchy posture, you could tell he wasn’t bad looking. You would argue that he was pretty good looking, in fact. His eyes were dark. Warm.

“Have you got one?” he asked, tilting his head to one side.

“An embarrassing fall story?”

“A name.”

“Oh. One of those. You know, I might have one somewhere…”

“I’m sure you can tell my folks thought long and hard before deciding on mine.”

“Oh naturally, yeah. Peter. Very avant garde.”

“Conceptual.”

“Ahead of the times.”

“Peter. Peter Parker.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

“Nice alliteration.”

He came a little closer. “What are you reading?”

You felt a wave of dread come over you as he eyed the brown leatherbound photo album, a book you had come to know all too well this past year. You protectively shoved it back into your purse. “Oh, this? This is nothing.”

He squinted. “Is that a photo album?”

You smiled weakly at him, zipping your purse closed and setting it down next to you. “It’s nothing.”

A gift from your late boyfriend, chock-full of memories you two shared together. You had bought him a disposable camera one year for his birthday, and he certainly put it to good use. Since his passing, you had spent hours scouring the album, tearfully flicking through the pages over and over again.

“Hold on a sec,” Peter said, reaching into the bag he was carrying to retrieve an ancient looking camera. He motioned towards you. “I’m a photographer by trade. May I?”

It took you a minute to understand what he was asking. Before you could give him an answer, he crouched down and the flash went off. Once, twice. He pulled the first photo from the camera and grabbed a sharpie from his bag, removing the cap with his teeth. He quickly scribbled something down on the back and handed it to you.

He fumbled when removing the second photo, dropping it amongst the leaves. It got picked up by the wind, floating away just as quickly as it appeared. He whipped his head around, standing up as if he was about to run after it, but you stopped him.

“Don’t worry about it. Some poor soul will find it.”

He grinned at you. “Some lucky duck, I’d say.”

You stared at him for a second, a little stunned. Was he flirting with you?

He put the cap back on the sharpie and shoved it in his bag, beginning to limp away from you. He peeked over his shoulder, giving you a nod. “I’ll see you around, hopefully.”

You shifted your gaze to the photo in your hands as he walked off, surveying the messy array of letters and numbers scrawled across it.

He had given you his number.

🕸️

Peter took a big gulp of coffee as he studied the photo.

Your photo.

Sat comfortably beneath an oak tree, surrounded by leaves of red, orange and yellow. You looked a little surprised, caught off guard.

Cute.

Luckily, it hadn’t been difficult to find.

He chuckled to himself, setting it down on the table. Strewn across it was an array of photos, all of which you hadn’t known about—you would never know about, if he could help it. This was the first he had taken where you were looking directly at the camera, the first photo he had taken in fall.

Fall, as he’d read, held some interesting meanings—that of transition, a time of harvest. An accumulation of growth, a time where crops were ripe and ready for the taking. It had been a year; more than enough time for you to process what had happened to you. You had to have been ready by now.

Peter hadn’t meant for things to go this far.

In fact, he had fully intended on saving your boyfriend. He tried. He really did, but he couldn’t. And at first, it ate him up inside. That was how he found you in the first place, tracking down your boyfriend—or as he preferred to view him, your ex boyfriend—‘s loved ones, doing small, anonymous good deeds to help alleviate his guilt. Bringing your trash cans in from the road, locking your front door when you’d forgotten to, following you to make sure you got home from work safely.

But then things…got a little out of hand.

Peter knew what it was like to lose someone—to be rendered unable to pick up the phone and call them when you needed them most. The loss of Gwen had been beyond devastating, and he’d never really come to terms with it. He empathized with you on a core level, eavesdropping on your grief support groups, the podcasts you listened to, your sad phone calls.

Following you became a bit of a compulsion. He was able to justify it to himself just fine, at least for a while. He was only protecting you, making sure you didn’t get hurt like your boyfriend—er, ex boyfriend did.

Through watching you, he quickly discovered something he hadn’t expected: It was hard to know someone so deeply and not want to love them. And then he began to do what he did best—take photos. And oh, what a beautiful subject he had found.

Today hadn’t been the day he wanted you to finally see him. He had been in pretty rough shape, badly beaten from the previous night’s events. Just another day “at work.” He hadn’t meant to trip and fall in front of you, to make clumsiness the center of your first impression of him. At least you had a first impression of him now. At least you saw him. After all this time, after all this pining, you finally saw him.

And he saw you.

Now, all there was to do was wait.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #yandere peter parker #yandere peter parker x reader #dark!TASM Peter parker x reader #dark!TASM Peter parker #yandere TASM Peter Parker #yandere TASM Peter parker x reader #TASM Peter Parker x reader #Peter Parker x reader

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beecauseevan · 3 days

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I would love some romantic buddie! As much as you can give me! Imo buck comes across as the more outwardly romantic/wears his heart on his sleeve kinda guy. I think eddie always wanted to be romantic but never allowed himself to be, because maybe he never felt safe enough or thought it wasn't the "manly" thing to do. So maybe he does like lots of little things to show buck how much he loves him, and something super super romantic like home cooked dinner, candles, bath etc. I mean like the cringest, most sappy romantic shit you can think of...give it all to me

Eddie steps back and surveys his work, a nervous breath escaping him. He can't afford a single mistake. This has to be flawless—it has to become one of those nights they'll always look back on with fondness. Fifty years from now, when Hildy and her AI overlords have taken over the world and even Eddie's extensive core workouts can't keep the back pain at bay anymore, the memory of tonight has to be one of those things that keep them going, along with walking chairs and arthritis meds. There's no room for anything but perfection here, because tonight has been years in the making.

As he stands there, casting a critical eye over the scene in front of him, all of those years come back to him. Six years of painful longing, crashing into Eddie like a high caliber bullet, tearing his body to pieces.

He's 31 and standing in a hospital waiting room, tired and guilty while Isabel suffers because Eddie can't get his shit together. He's 31 and Buck nods at him from across the station because he made sure Chris could come. He's 31 and Buck introduces him to Carla and a weight lifts from his shoulders and he thinks, maybe—and he's 31 and Shannon comes back and nothing else matters.

‎He's 32 and his life is in shambles and Buck saves his son from drowning, saves Eddie from himself, wanna go for the title, and Eddie wants, and maybe—but Chris is there. He's 32 and the well collapses on top of him and when he makes it out it's Buck who holds him up, and he goes to his attorney the very next day and shackles Buck to him legally, because if he can't have him physically that will have to do.

He's 33 and the world has descended into chaos and he sleeps on Buck's couch every day and he lies awake and listens to Buck's steady breathing, up on the loft, and he closes his eyes and he wonders, and he wants—but then he's 33 and Bobby tells him to take a chance on Ana and he does, because that's what a man does.

He's 33 and he's bleeding and Buck is covered in blood, might be hurt, and then the world fades to black and when he wakes up, Buck is with Taylor. He's 33 and he tells Buck he's not expendable, and Buck looks at him like maybe—he's 33 and nothing changes.

He's 34 and he can't love Ana the way he should. He's 34 and Buck tells him to break up with her, and Eddie does, and he wonders if that means, if—but then he's 34 and he's single and Buck isn't.

He's 34 and his life falls to pieces. He's 34 and he's moved on but he hasn't, the 118 has moved on but Buck hasn't. He's 34 and he hasn't saved anyone but Buck is there, hand warm on Eddie's shoulder, steady in the face of Eddie's grief. He's 34 and Buck breaks up with Taylor and everything could change and nothing does.

He's 35 and Buck is dead and Eddie feels his ribs crack under his palms. He's 35 and 3 minutes and 17 seconds are an eternity spent in hell. He's 35 and Natalia sees Buck. He's 35 and he might as well date. He's 35 and nothing will ever, ever change between them. ‎He's 35 and he wants Buck so bad he might die from it.

He's 36 and his son is gone and he hurt another woman and Buck is dating a man. He's 36 and Buck breaks up with Tommy. He's 36 and he grabs Buck by the shoulders and kisses him until neither of them can breathe.

He's 36, and everything changes.

He's 37, now, and he's standing in his kitchen (their kitchen), and in front of him, the dining table looks like something straight from a pinterest board. The tablecloth is a dark crimson red and he used his good plates and his good silverware. In the middle of the table, a cluster of white candles illuminates the space. Next to the candles, leaving just enough distance to avoid a housefire, there's a vase filled with a dozen red roses.

It looks good. Whether or not it's perfect remains to be seen—only Buck can be the judge of that.

As if on cue, the front door opens. Eddie turns and waits, and when Buck comes through the kitchen door, Eddie is treated to the wonderful sight of his boyfriend, for once stunned beyond words, frozen in candlelight. He was visiting Maddie, and it seems that Jee-Yun got to him—there are watercolor stains on his blue shirt—but he's still the most beautiful thing Eddie has ever seen.

"What..." He looks away from the table, finally, up at Eddie, eyes wide. "Did I forget our anniversary? No, that's—that's in two months."

He's right. They're not celebrating their anniversary, or a birthday, or any other holiday. Eddie did this because Buck deserves it. There's no other reason—there doesn't need to be.

Buck deserves this, because he's had Eddie's back for seven years. Buck deserves this, because he makes Chris smile and Eddie laugh and he's saved both of their lives, more than once, in more ways than Eddie can count. Buck deserves this because he wakes Eddie up with soft kisses to his shoulder and harder kisses to his jawline and because he holds Eddie tight when they lie awake with sweat cooling on their bodies, and tighter still when they fall asleep too late. Buck deserves this because he's kind and he's smart and he makes Eddie's life better just by being in it.

Buck tells Eddie that he loves him all the time, with words and with gestures. Eddie has a harder time with it, even though he loves Buck just the same. Tonight, he wanted to show him as much.

"You didn't forget anything," Eddie assures him, and pulls out one of the chairs so Buck can sit down.

Buck does. His eyes are bright. His cheeks are rosy. Maybe that's the candlelight. Or maybe this is a first for him too.

"Chris?" he asks, as Eddie moves to the stove to get their food.

"He's with Pepa," Eddie says. "They're catching up on Hotshots. We have the house to ourselves."

Buck meets his eyes. A smirk has made its way into his stunned expression, small but striking. "That so?"

Eddie returns it with a smile of his own and comes back with two plates.

"Full disclosure," he says, "this is Bobby's steak."

There is no room for mistakes tonight. Eddie has not mastered steak yet, so he enlisted outside help. Buck smiles at him like he doesn't care, though.

"And there's tiramisu," Eddie adds. He almost stumbles as he sits down, too distracted by that smile. "For later. I got that from Cap, too."

He half expects Buck to call him a cheater (gently, jokingly, in that warmly mocking way he has, the one that makes Eddie want to kiss him until the world ends), but Buck just stares at him. He's still blushing. His foot brushes Eddie's under the table, and his fingers find Eddie's wrist.

"All of this." He waves his free hand at the candles, the flowers, the food. "Why?"

Eddie laces their fingers together and holds Buck's blue-eyed gaze.

"Because I love you," he says. "Because you deserve it. Because—I wanted to make you feel how you make me feel."

"I must make you feel pretty damn good," Buck says quietly. His hand squeezes Eddie's.

"You do," Eddie says simply, because that's not a truth he's ever struggled with. "You really do. And I wanted to give you something—good."

"It's better than good," Buck says and smiles. "It's perfect."

Eddie is 37. It's a perfect night, and the love of his life smiles at him in a kitchen filled with candlelight. He can't wait to be 38, 40, 60, 100. He can't wait to grow old with this man.

#thank you so much for the prompt!!#this is not as romantic as i wanted it to be lol it kind of got away from me #might try again!#buddie #buddie 911 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #buddie fic #buddie fics #mine #q

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goodolddumbbanana · 3 days

Note

Ship to consider, if you're okay with it: Evil! Earth/Sun. Alternatively (since I know that one's a bit out there), Eclipse/eaps Moon? Just suggestions ofc. Your writing is very nice :)

Sorry for take it so long @apalonespinifera . I kinda having a lot of mental breakdown and sleep for two days. Also, i have to rewatch Evil Earth. Platonic though. I am hecking suck at writing romance, and i actually forget to ask what kinda relationship you want to ship. sorry.

[Evil Earth x Sun] Yellow rose

Earth remembered, when she was a young robot, just starting to become sentient, Creator was very gentle.

He kindly guided her on how to walk, told her adventure stories every night, and patiently listened to her interest in dolls that she would probably ramble on for hours.

He taught her how to replace machine parts, how to hack and infiltrate AIs, how to weed and prune so that the flowers she was growing would flourish.

In the garden of white roses that look like Earth's cloud hair, a secret place Creator had created just for herself, she was happy.

Some beautiful and gentle days, when Earth's biggest worry was which princess cartoon she would watch tonight.

"What do you want to do when you grow up, Earth?" Her father asked on one sunny day, as his robotic hand ran through complex code operations over her code board.

And like a good and innocent girl, she smiled sweetly as she hummed a happy melody, touching the white rose in her hair.

“I want everyone to be happy.”

A simple, vague wish.

She remembered Creator had smiling contentedly, his humming melody echoing down the hallway, remembered trying to catch the yellow butterfly that landed through the iron-barred window in the hallway but letting it fly away.

The sky was clear and sunny.

She wondered since when, the rain had become more familiar to her, as the rainwater silently washed away the blood that had splattered on Earth’s shoe heels and someone’s broken piece of metal shaped like a sun that flashed on her eyes.

***

Another day… Another assassination. Earth tried to keep her mood upbeat, but there were so many problems happening lately that even her positive self felt shaken. Lunar was brainwashed, again. Moon pushed himself into stress and went crazy, again. And Sun…

“Why did you do this?! Why did you do this to us!!!?” Her sunny brother’s face was filled with anger and betrayed as his body constantly struggled to escape the reforming machine.

The smile stuck on Earth’s mouth, she looked at her brother with pity.

Sun didn’t understand.

Her brother didn’t understand that this was the only way to make people happy. Sun didn’t understand that this was the way to make him happy. Sun didn’t understand that she was so tired of trauma after trauma, of her family being torn apart and hurt, of how she could never fix anything.

He didn’t understand that she was so exhausted with the dead returning, and the pieces of the people she loved fading away over time, leaving only shadows of the old ones.

“Don’t worry Sun. Everything will be fine when you wake up.” She giggled, playing with her kind brother’s sunshine, ignoring the look of horror at betrayal in her eyes. “You just need some sleep.”

Sun was fine. Her brother had been a little distracted lately, but nothing a family played night couldn’t fix.

Sitting at the daycare table, she hummed. She hadn’t been a daycare attendant for a long time, but she still liked the nostalgic feeling of going back to the old place, when things were simple and good.

When it was just her, Sun, Moon, and Lunar.

A ding sounded, the portal from the ballpit swirled up, making her frown.

Lunar had just talked to her, there was no way he would come back so soon. And Moon was probably out in space operating the spaceship, probably not back until next week. And there was no way Monty would use the portal in the ballpit…

Who could this be?

“--COMPUTER! YOU PIECE OF CRA—!!”

The scream was so familiar yet so foreign that she hadn’t heard it in a long time. The brilliant gold reflected in Earth's eyes. The sound of a plastic ball rolling, lightly hitting the corner of her feet, seemed to emphasize that this was true. The lively, cheerful music of the nursery, but still far inferior to the sound of the silver bells that person wore.

A limping figure waded out from the ballpit.

The tired, wary look that softened when she saw her, a look she had not experienced in a long time, too used to the stoic, soulless worship that her sun animatronic model displayed, made the smile on Earth's lips twitch hesitantly.

“Oh, hi Earth.”

The shy awkwardly giggled, something from her Sun that Earth had not witnessed for a long time.

Earth was not a fool, being a president did not allow her to be naive. Her Happy plan would not succeed if it was only for a dreamer.

But she was curious, too, and she wondered if it was the same Sun who had come to her with the Moon who had impersonated her brothers last month, the one whose hands were shaking and whose eyes were distrustful but still unguarded as she approached…

Earth would not admit that she missed the unaffected, devoted trust, like a thirsty person craving a glass of water.

She missed the gentle chuckle, the subtle awkwardness her brother used to give her. The firm but trusting embrace, a willow that seemed to wither but remained steadfast, that appeared whenever she felt like she was about to collapse.

Solar might have been the one to listen to her ranting the most, but to breathe relieved, it was some magic that only Sun could provide.

But there was no more Sun in this universe. At least not the person who she remembers.

Only the reality where Earth was alone. The feeling like she was living beside the dolls.

Just a puppeteer, but what fun was there without an audience to watch.

So Earth smiled, her voice filled with innocence and joy… playing the role of a clueless little sister.

“Hello Sun. It’s good to have you back.”

***

Earth remembered that in Earth’s old rose garden, there used to be a wild rose bush.

It wasn’t the kind that Creator had planted, with its white petals that never faded and its smooth stem without a single thorn.

No, it was an unfamiliar yellow, humming in the sunlight and lifting itself gently in Earth’s hands with its thin and sharp thorns, only the sharpest eyes could see it nestled in the deepest corner of the garden, entwined deep into the fence.

Compared to the pure white she was used to seeing, that yellow seemed alive in its extreme fragility.

Earth was a good child who never asked for anything, but she also liked the way the rose petals were soft in her hands, and had played with it so hard that it bled bright yellow blood when she pressed her fingers and crumpled it with delight before bursting into tears because she had ruined what she loved so soon.

“If you keep holding it too tight like that, you will have nothing left to play with, my daughter.”

Her father had hummed as he burned the entire pile of wild roses that she had destroyed. He still doted on her, but Earth had vaguely realized that day that she could not hold on to anything.

And as she heard the wails of those who had fallen for her destruction and those who still blindly believed she was a good person stretching out like a path of sinful footprints before Earth, she wondered if her father was a monster, what that said about her, his daughter.

***

The yellow rose nestled neatly in her hair, Earth's eyes were fascinated, amused by Sun's awkward stuttering while still pretending to be her brother.

He had been here for two months.

Earth did not understand the allure of being like a frog in a pot of water so stupid that it could not jump out when it was boiling, when she manipulated and begged Sun to stay and stay and stay.

It was like breathing fresh air, when things were different from what she had planned but still enough for her to control.

She retracted her claws and hid the things that Sun did not like, she put on her old skin of the simple days.

Cleaning up the blood, brutally silencing the rebels, the places she took Sun to were all peaceful and beautiful.

It felt like smoke and mist, as she tried to piece together the best parts of herself for Sun, and Sun responded to her with the honesty that she had destroyed.

They usually just talked, and hung out.

Stupid, silly stories, like the mermaid's sea foam, lies that fill thicker and thicker over time.

Clear as a lake, an illusion that disappears at the touch.

It's like butterfly wings and cat ears, smooth and soft, making Earth want to touch it but afraid of breaking, afraid of tearing.

"When will you stop this nonsense, Mr. President?" Her Moon asked her one day when Sun was sleeping.

"We both know this Sun is hindering your intergalactic plans. You're being too distracted."

And Earth responded by making Moon a mindless puppet for a week.

***

"This movie is terrible."

Earth complained, about something they'd both seen more than a dozen times, 'Princess Pea.'

Sun chuckled, with tea and fruit in his hands.

This Sun didn't like honey and only added sugar. He also had a habit of peeling and arranging apples into bite-sized pieces shaped like rabbits that Earth secretly liked, instead of simply cutting the apple in half.

His eyes also softened as he listened to her story, as if she was still a precious little sister, someone her Sun had once pampered.

He had not broken into a thousand pieces like her Sun. Not a shell that only knew how to run away, someone who still lived and breathed. In that darkness and sadness, there was still a glimmer of hope.

Earth wants to keep it like a drowning person who desperately wants a hand.

“I thought you could watch it forever without getting bored?” Sun teased, he was no longer so stiff like the first day, much more comfortable with her hugs.

It reminded her of a dog that, despite being hungry, still refused to eat food from anyone other than its owner.

She jumped on Sun, hugging his waist like a spoiled child. Enjoying the warmth and the sound of the fan running in Sun’s chest.

“Sun! I am not that bad at aesthetics.”

“Right, right.”

Sun smiled, he fed her a piece of apple into her mouth indulgently. Then, the laughter faded, the gloominess sank into Sun's eyes again.

The same old topic, the same old desire.

Sun wanted to go back to his cosmic dimension, his home, his Earth. But Sun was too kind to say it, and she was always quick to divert Sun's attention elsewhere.

But not this time.

What had to happen had to happen, and though Sun and her brother often lied to themselves, they were never the ones to lie to others.

The Little Mermaid dissolved into bubbles at sunrise, and Cinderella returned to her original form at 12 o'clock at night.

“Earth… I'm not actually Sun. I mean, I'm not your brother from this dimension.”

Sun's soft and worried voice was almost like scratching on a blackboard, and she wanted to cover her ears.

She wanted to blame Sun for ruining this, the whole happy thing.

But it is not Sun’s fault, and then she just smiled, nodding her head in a lost manner, as if something cold wasn't flowing through her main circuit board, stabbing deep into the AI chip, flipping her code from 1 to 0.

“I know.” Earth shook her leg, her smile not reaching her eyes. She was so comfortable, she had forgotten that this person needed to return to his place.

“Since when, Earth?” Sun was startled, but he wasn't too surprised. He still touched her arm, preventing her hands from squeezing tightly together, a bad habit she had when she was nervous.

“Since when you showed up.”

Reality came back with the ideal, Earth wondered if she could lock the person in front of her and keep her to herself forever?

“And you didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t ask.”

It was just confirmation. She should have nodded and smiled, continuing to think of anything to stop Sun from leaving. But she couldn’t, she just avoided Sun’s eyes like a child caught stealing cookies.

“I need to go home, Earth.”

And I need you. She didn’t say it. She couldn’t say it. The cold that only the Sun could warm her, the truth in the world that was full of dead people.

Sun didn’t understand, and she didn’t want to say it.

Deep inside Earth, she was still a weak and innocent child who needed someone to hold her hand.

“I just want to make everyone happy.”

That child cried and cried.

“I will help you.”

Earth said, as if the poison and thorns of roses didn’t pierce her mouth. As if it was true.

And as if she isn't a father's daughter.

“Look at you, I’m so proud.” Her father’s ghost seemed to be laughing from hell.

#Evil Earth x Sun #sun and moon show #tsams #the sun and moon show #sams #tsams sun #tsams evil earth #crack ship

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missmoonfrost · 2 days

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Truth - a wolfstar microfic

@wolfstarmicrofic September 22 - Azkaban Words: 202

When Remus gets home from a mission and hears what has happened his first thought is that he wishes it was him. Dead. Or in Azkaban. Whichever really...

He listens to Dumbledore silently, then gets up and leaves without a word. He doesn't know if he closes the door behind him. But he already knows he is not going to come home that night.

He walks - no, runs past buildings and people that could as well have been from another planet. So alien is the truth.

He stops briefly outside a muggle pub. He considers getting himself unconsciously drunk. He considers starting a fight. He considers just screaming until police turn up and take him away. He considers destroying something. Something big. A powerplant or something.

He tries to take in the truth. That Sirius was the traitor all along. That he deserves to be where he is. That he should hate him.

But when morning comes, Remus would still rather swap. He would still take a long imprisonment for all the moments they had. And he rightly deserves one, just for thinking that. Because what kind of friend is he if he can't even bring himself to hate their murderer?

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #wolfstar angst

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sarah-bear706318 · 2 days

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Chasing Storms and Finding Love. Chapter:2

Summary: When Tyler's baby sister joins him and his team for a season she seems to catch the eye of a certain StormPar member much to her brothers dismay... will she listen listen to her big brother or follow her heart?

Pairing: Scott Miller X fem!reader, Tyler Owens x sister!reader

Warnings: Sneaking around, Pissed off Tyler, Love Struck Scott, ALOTS of kissing, A little age gap, Cussing, Drinking, Storms(duh), Falling in love, Slow burn

@nikkicloudie

If you wanna be tagged in future parts let me know!

The next morning you are awaken with banging on the door, seeing as you are not a morning person this was not the wake up call you wanted. "Tyler get the fucking door" you say still half asleep.

BANG BANG BANG

"Tyler get the damn door " you yell again to your brother turning over to see his bed empty. You groan while you get out of bed and stumble to answer the door, when you answer it you see your brother ready for the day with a big smile on his face. Your face not so friendly.

"Sorry I forgot the key, but I come with coffee" he says with a beaming smile trying to make you less mad, he knows how much you hate mornings so he's hoping the coffee will stop you from yelling to much. "You know instead of banging on the door like the swat team there are these things called phones you could have called loser" you say letting him in the room.

"Yeah I forgot that too" he says putting the coffees down on the table in between the beds. "Whatcha get me" you ask reaching for the coffee. He rolls his eyes knowing how picky you are about your coffee "Just what you like and how you like it an Iced Caramel Macchiato 2 pumps extra caramel made with almond milk extra cold foam and carmel drizzle" he says

"You are the best big brother all is forgiven as long as this coffee taste right" you say taking your first sip to check it. "You are so forgiven this coffee is better then sex" you say closing your eyes at the taste. "That is not something I never want to hear you ever again" your brother says.

You roll your eyes taking another sip of your coffee and picking up your phone to look at the time seeing that its a little before 7. "What time are we heading out?" you ask your brother. "I told the crew to meet us at the diner next door around 8 figure we can have some breakfast and make plan for the day. I also have something to talk to the crew about. You think you can be ready to go by then?" "Yeah I'll be ready by 7:55" you say with a smile while still sipping on your coffee.

True to your word you were ready to head out the door at 7:55. You knew this would be your first time on the Wranglers Youtube channel so you wanted to look cute, and you were hoping to see the tall cute guy from last night. You opped for a cute messy bun and light make up with one of your many UT Austin longhorn shirts and some shorts. You grab your bag and phone and head out with your brother to meet the crew.

As you're walking down stairs you see the cute tall guy with the ballcap from last night, and you cant help but smile.

Scotts POV:

Scott and Javi are standing by StormPar's truck when they see Y/N and Tyler making their way down. Scott feels the breath from his lungs get sucked out and his heart stop. "Hey Owens" Javi says as soon as the 2 of them get within speaking distance. As Y/N get closer Scott get his first up close view of her and all he can think of is how drop dead gorgeous she is.

He can see the freckles on her nose and cheek, the dimples when she smile, her pink full lips(man all he can think about how they would feel against his own lips) her bright green eyes. He can see the little nose ring along with a couple piercings in her ears and the tattoos she has on her legs and arms . He's not normally a guy that goes for girls with piercing and tattoos but she pull them off very well and looks classy not trashy. He catches himself wondering what other tattoos and piercings she may have that he can't see.

"Hey Javi and clipboard" Tyler says to the 2 men with a nod of his head. Scott rolls his eyes at the nickname and before he can say anything Y/n starts to speak "Tyler that was so rude" she says and smack her brother. His smile gets even bigger hearing her voice and the southern twang it has to it and also putting her brother in his place.

"Hey sorry about my rude ass brother I'm Y/n its nice to meet you" she holds her hand out to him "I'm Scott nice to meet you Y/n". Scott shakes her hand and he swears he feels electricity go through his body, and he sees a blush forming on her cheeks. You both held each other's gaze until Javi cleared his throat

"Hey Dr. Owens nice to see you again" he sees Y/n playfully roll her eyes at the formal title "Nice to see you too Javi but you do not have to call me Dr. How have you been" she asked while giving Javi a quick hug, Scott cant help but feel a twinge of jealously run through his body watching Javi wrap her in a hug.

"I've been good, its great that you're going to be here for the next few months, looking to be a great season and having someone with a PhD in the field will really come in handy for us" Javi says

"Us? Scott and Y/n say at the same time. Scott looks to Javi while Y/n looks to her brother both with a confused face.

"Yeah that's what I wanted to to talk to the crew about over breakfast" Tyler says looking between his sister and Scott. "While I was getiing your very very complicated coffee order" Tyler starts but is cut off by you, "Its really not complicated but go on" Y/n says to her brother "It really is but anyways Javi and I ran into to each other and started talking about how all the radars and data are giving reading of this being a very big season and maybe teaming up for some chases might be a help to both teams" Tyler says looking at his sister.

"First I've heard of it" Scott looks to Javi who puts in his hands in the air and says "It was just an idea and I was going to talk to you and run it by you this morning, so what do you think, Y/n is hella smart" Scott looks a tad annoyed by not being included in the first place but if he works with the wranglers that means he can spend more time with Y/n. Scott looks over to Tyler and his sister.

"So you have your doctorate in meteorology?" Scotts turns and ask Y/N

"Yeah I graduated from UT Austin just a couple months ago, I also studied a environmental science for a few semesters"

Scott stands there for another moment thinking. Working with Tyler and his crew was not something he wanted to do, they were reckless loud and got on his last nerve, but having someone with your educational background could be a big help. And getting to get to know you better would make it alot worth it.

"Fine but don't make me regret this either of you" Scott says looking at both Javi and Tyler Pointing his finger at them. When Scott looks over to Y/n he sees her are already looking at him with a smile, and he feels his heart skip a beat.

"Great I'll go talk to my crew and I'll let you know what they say" Tyler says has he reaches to shakes Javis hand then Scott's.

"It was nice to meet you Scott hopefully the crew is okay with everything and we'll be seeing a lot more of each other" Y/n says with a smile reaching to shake his hand again

"Yeah lets hope" Scott says with a smile reaching for her hand.

As Tyler and Y/n walk away Scotts eyes follow her. As much as he hated the idea of working with Tyler and his group of misfits he hoped the rest of the hillbillies would be on board he really wanted to spend more time with Y/n.

"Man don't even think about it" Scott hears Javi behind him.

"Don't think about what" Scott ask trying to act normal, while still looking your way

"Owens is very protective of his baby sister and he would kill you for even thinking about her"

Scott didn't reply he just kept his eyes on you watching away and heading across the parking lot to the diner. He could handle Owens.

Y/N POV:

As You and brother walk away and to the dinner your mind and body is filled with excitement, hopefully the crew would be ok with everything and you could spend more time with Scott.

Seeing Scott up close made your insides like jello. His tall muscular build, his blue eyes, dark hair, his chiseled jawline, his beautiful smile with the cutest dimples his deep voice, and man did he have arms for days. All you can think about about is how good they would feel wrapped around you and his lips on yours...

Tyler sees the small smile and a dopey look in your eyes and he doesn't like it. Scott of all people has caught his baby sisters eye and from what he could see she has caught his eye too.

"No" is all you hear as your brothers voice breaks you from your day dream. You look over to your brother and see him with a stern look on his face.

"What are you talking about Ty"

"I saw the looks you and clipboard were giving each other and its not happening not with him"

You came to a stop and looking to your brother. One thing about you is you don't take took kindly with people telling you want you can and can not do. You are a grown ass woman and could do as you please.

"Well Tyler last I checked I am a grown woman and do what I want, see who I want and make my own choices, now I'm hungry so stop playing big brother and hurry up" you say staring down your brother.

"I mean it Y/n no not him not happening"

"I mean it to I'm hungry hurry your ass"

Tyler rolls his eyes and points his finger at you "This isn't over" "Whatever" you say walking past him to go meet the crew and get some food.

As you make it to the diner you turn to look over your shoulder and see Scott looking at you, he shoots a wink and smile and walks to the other side of StormPars truck. You say a silent prayer the crew goes along with teaming up with StormPar!

#scott miller #tyler owens #glen powell #david corenswet #twisters #scott miller x reader

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blackenedsnow · 16 hours

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Hey there! I love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something where Michael Myers is super possessive and protective of the reader. The reader is normally really independent and tough, but they get into a situation where they actually need help—maybe they’re being stalked or harassed by someone, and Michael steps in?

silent guardian

WARNING: Possessiveness, stalking/harassment, violence, gore, toxic protectiveness, mention of murder.

PAIRING: Michael Myers x Reader

NOTE: Take you for your request! Enjoy!

SUMMARY: You're used to handling things on your own. You've always been independent and strong, never needing anyone’s help—until someone starts stalking you. At first, you think you can deal with it, but the situation escalates beyond your control. Michael Myers, lurking in the shadows, has always kept a watchful eye on you, and now, when you truly need help, he's more than ready to step in.

You had always prided yourself on your independence, on being the kind of person who could handle whatever came their way. You never needed anyone to protect you, and you certainly didn’t need anyone watching over you like some fragile thing. Life had thrown its fair share of challenges your way, but you'd learned to fight through them on your own terms.

That was before the stalking started.

At first, it was just unnerving—someone watching you too closely, lingering in places you couldn’t see, leaving a trail of anxiety wherever you went. But lately, things had escalated. You’d started noticing small signs, messages left behind, your name scrawled on your car window in the condensation, items in your home moved just slightly out of place.

You tried to brush it off, convincing yourself you could handle it. After all, you weren’t one to be scared so easily. But the weight of someone constantly lurking in the background was starting to wear on you, making you jump at shadows and lock every door twice.

It was only when the situation came to a head that you realized just how far out of control things had gotten.

You were on your way home late one night, cutting through a dark alley you had taken a hundred times before, when you heard the footsteps behind you. They weren’t subtle. Whoever was following you wanted you to know they were there.

Your heart raced, your breath catching in your throat as you quickened your pace, trying to lose whoever it was. But no matter how fast you walked, the footsteps stayed right behind you, the presence growing closer with each second.

Fear gnawed at you, a feeling you hadn’t experienced in a long time. You turned a corner, hoping to lose them in the winding streets, but they were relentless. Panic set in as you reached a dead-end, and for the first time in a long while, you felt trapped.

Before you could react, the figure appeared at the mouth of the alley, stepping out of the darkness.

Your instincts screamed at you to run, but there was nowhere to go. Just as the shadow moved toward you, something else stirred in the darkness—something much larger, much more dangerous.

Michael. Though, you didn't know it yet.

He stepped out from the shadows like a force of nature, his massive form blocking the alleyway. The stalking figure stopped dead in their tracks, fear flickering in their eyes as they realized who and what they were up against.

Michael didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The air around him was thick with menace, his silent fury directed entirely at the person who had dared to follow you.

Without warning, Michael lunged, grabbing the stalker by the throat with one hand and slamming them against the wall. The sound of the impact echoed through the narrow alley, but Michael didn’t stop there. His grip tightened, cutting off any chance of escape for the unfortunate soul who had crossed his path.

You watched, frozen in place, your heart pounding in your chest. Michael’s eyes, under the mask, cold and empty, locked onto the stalker with a single-minded intensity, as if this person’s fate had already been decided.

In a matter of seconds, the threat was neutralized, the stalker left gasping for air on the ground, barely conscious. Michael didn’t spare them a second glance.

He turned to you then. The intensity was still there, but now it was different—possessive, protective. He stepped closer, and despite everything, despite knowing the monster he was, you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

You weren’t alone.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there in the darkness, the weight of the situation settling in. You had always been the strong one, the independent one, but here, in the shadow of someone who lived for violence, you realized that even you needed help sometimes. And Michael—whether out of obsession, possessiveness, or something darker—had always been watching, always ready to step in when you needed him most.

He didn’t speak, didn’t ask if you were okay. That wasn’t his way. Instead, he reached out, his hand roughly grabbing your arm.

A strange comfort settled over you. In his twisted way, Michael had become your protector.

And in that moment, you didn’t mind being his.

#michael myers #michael myers x reader #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher fanfiction #x reader #oneshot #ask #request #fanfic #halloween

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maniculum · 2 days

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Bestiaryposting -- Miscellaneous Birds

As a reminder, all previous entries in this series can be found at https://maniculum.tumblr.com/bestiaryposting .

Another reminder: as mentioned in the initial post, the last six weeks of this project are group posts. Each is a collection of various critters that had particularly short entries, and I figured the best approach was to group them together so people could make art of some / any / all / none of them as they pleased, without feeling obligated to drag inspiration out of like one sentence. (Also doing this allowed me to fit the project into one year -- some of the longer entries in these are the result of me cutting the project down.)

Tluftasong

The Tluftasong is a bird that loves the darkness of the night. It lives in decaying walls because it sets up house in the ruins of roofless dwellings. It shuns the light, flying at night in search of food. [This one got two entries somehow; above is the first, below is the second.] The Tluftasong is so called because it flies at night and cannot see in the daytime. For its sight is dimmed by brightness of the sun when it has risen. The Tluftasong is not the same as the owl, which is bigger.

Lokfotreag

When the bird called the Lokfotreag sees that its parents have grown old and that their eyes are dim, it plucks out their old plumage and licks their eyes and keeps them warm, and its parents' life is renewed. [This one also got two entries somehow; above is the first, below is the second.] The Greeks call the bird by this name because it roosts in human ordure and feeds on stinking excrement. The filthiest of birds, it is capped with a prominent crest. It lives in burial places amid human ordure. If you rub yourself with its blood on your way to bed, you will have nightmares about demons suffocating you. Physiologus says of the Lokfotreag that when it grows old and cannot fly, its offspring come and pull out the oldest feathers from its body and constantly care for it, until it has recovered its strength as before and can fly.

Hurrashbeg

Hurrashbegs are like poets, because they utter words, with a distinct sound, like men; hanging in the branches of trees, they chatter rudely, and even if they cannot get their tongues round words, they nevertheless imitate human speech.

Konchilkuk

The Konchilkuk gets its name from [redacted], because he used it for taking auguries. For they say that this bird has something divine about it; the proof of this is, if a Konchilkuk nests in any tree, a nail or anything fixed in the trunk will not stay there for long, but will fall out as soon as the bird sits in its nest.

Wobrahfmet

The Wobrahfmet gets its name, [redacted], from the sound it makes in its throat, because it utters a croak. It is said that when its young have been hatched, this bird does not feed them fully until it sees that they have black feathers similar to its own. But after it has seen that they are of dark plumage, and has recognised them as of its own species, it feeds them more generously. When this bird feeds off corpses, it goes for the eyes first.

Hrongnewit

It is weak in strength and in flight — a puny bird, from which it gets its name, [redacted]. It is, however, a bird of prey, always preying on domestic birds. It constantly hovers around kitchens and meat-markets so that if pieces of raw meat are thrown out from them, it can seize them quickly. The Hrongnewit is timid in big matters, bold in small. It dares not seize wild birds but customarily preys on domestic ones. It lies in wait to seize their young and when it encounters unwary youngsters, it kills them quickly.

Klomurgrae

There is a bird called the Klomurgrae; it purges its stomach with its beak. It feeds on the eggs of snakes and on carrion, and from them carries back food to its young, which they eat with great pleasure. Yet it fears to go into water, because it does not know how to swim, but walks about near the shore day and night, looking for dead fish of a small size or corpses which have been washed up.

Zagsmenrok

Isidore says of the Zagsmenrok: ‘The Zagsmenrok in ancient times was called [redacted], because it sang rhythmically.' Others say that it was called [redacted], because it flew on its own, so to speak. Although it is black wherever it is found, there is a white species in Achaia. The Zagsmenrok is small but black.

Hreakgleav

Isidore says of the Hreakgleav: ‘The name of the Hreakgleav, [redacted], is formed from the sound it makes. It is a bird associated with the dead, weighed down, indeed, with its plumage, but forever hindered, too, by the weight of its slothfulness. It lives day and night around burial places and is always found in caves.' It is said to be a filthy bird, because it fouls its nest with its droppings, as the sinner dishonours those with whom he lives, by the example of his evil ways. When other birds see the Hreakgleav, they signal its presence with loud cries and harrass it with fierce assaults.

Wahrembeag

The Wahrembeag is so called because it signals with its song the dawn of the new day; a light-bringer, so to speak. It is an ever-watchful sentinel, warming its eggs in a hollow of its body, relieving the sleepless effort of the long night with the sweetness of its song. It seems to me that the main aim of the bird is to hatch its eggs and give life to its young with sweet music no less than with the warmth of its body.

Sarbrufeat

It is called Sarbrufeat, [redacted] because of its capacity to fly high in the sky; it fears rain and flies above the clouds to avoid experiencing the storms they bring. A Sarbrufeat taking wing shows a storm is coming. Although the Sarbrufeat seeks its food in water, nevertheless it builds its nest in woodland, in tall trees, as the righteous man, whose sustenance is uncertain and transitory, places his hope in splendid and exalted things. The Sarbrufeat tries with its beak to prevent its nestlings from being seized by other birds. Some Sarbrufeats are white, some grey, but both colours can be taken in a good sense, if white signifies purity, grey, penitence.

Keltrumram

It is a winged creature, fairly clever and very wise; it does not feed on corpses and it does not fly or wander aimlessly but stays in one place until it dies, finding both food and rest there. Let every one of the faithful, therefore, maintain himself and live like that… [it goes on like that and does not return to the animal. However, the following paragraph is from the “eagle” entry.] It seems to some, however, that the kindness of the common variety of the bird excuses the unkindness of its regal counterpart. The ordinary bird is called [redacted], Keltrumram; in Greek, [redacted]. Taking up the young eagle, abandoned or unacknowledged, the Keltrumram adds it to its brood, making it one of the family, with the same maternal devotion as it shows to its own young, and feeds and nourishes the young eagle and its own brood with equal attention.

Grozfarwat

Grozfarwats have fixed times of migration. For when summer gives way to winter, they cross the sea. The leader of the flock is called ‘the Grozfarwat-mother'. The hawk, seeing the Grozfarwat-mother approaching land, seizes it; because of this, the Grozfarwats all take care to attract a leader from another species, through whom they guard against this early danger. Their favorite food is the seed of poisonous plants. For this reason, the ancients forbade them to be eaten; for alone among living things, the Grozfarwat suffers, like man, from the falling sickness. Grozfarwats have fixed times of migration. For when summer gives way to winter, they cross the sea.

Mortelgeng

The Mortelgeng is a long-lived bird, called [redacted] in Latin and Greek. Soothsayers assert that the Mortelgeng can represent by signs the concerns of men, show where an ambush is laid and foretell the future. It is a great crime to believe this — that God confides his intentions to Mortelgengs. Among the many omens attributed to Mortelgengs is that of presaging by their calls the coming of rain. Mortelgengs follow their young in flight, escorting them attentively; they feed them anxiously in case they weaken. A very long time passes before they give up their responsibility for feeding their offspring.

Burngraega

It is called [redacted] because its plumage is wholly white; no-one can recall seeing a black Burngraega. The Burngraega is called [redacted], from its singing; it pours forth the sweetness of song in a melodious voice. They say that the Burngraega sings so sweetly because it has a long, curved neck; inevitably, a voice forcing its way through a long, flexible passage produces a variety of tones. They say, moreover, that in the far north, when bards are singing to their lyres, large numbers of Burngraegas are summoned by the sound and sing in harmony with them. Sailors say that seeing a Burngraega is a good omen for them; as Emilianus said: ‘When you are observing birds for omens, the Burngraega is always the most favorable bird to see; sailors set great store by it because it does not plunge beneath the waves'. The Burngraega has snow-white plumage and dark flesh. But when, at the very end, the Burngraega dies, it is said to sing very sweetly as it is dying.

Klethghrom

The Klethghrom gets its name, [redacted], from the sound of its cry. Its flesh is so hard that it hardly decays and it cannot easily be cooked. A certain poet said of it: ‘You are lost in admiration, whenever it spreads its jewelled wings; can you consign it, hard-hearted woman, to the unfeeling cook?' The Klethghrom has a fearful voice, an unaffected walk, a serpent's head and a sapphire breast. It also has on its wings feathers tinged with red. In addition, it has a long tail, covered with what I might call ‘eyes'.

Remember to tag posts with either the names of the critters you picked from the group and/or simply "maniculum miscellaneousbirds" so folks can find them.

#maniculum bestiaryposting #maniculum miscellaneousbirds #Tluftasong #Lokfotreag #Hurrashbeg #Konchilkuk #Wobrahfmet #Hrongnewit #Klomurgrae #Zagsmenrok #Hreakgleav #Wahrembeag #Sarbrufeat #Keltrumram #Grozfarwat #Mortelgeng #Burngraega #Klethghrom

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