#/ they are so soft and i am so soft for them
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
đ đđđĄ đŚđđ đŹđ˘đ¨
paring: carlos sainz x fem!leclerc!reader
summary: youâre the twin of arthur leclerc . . . and youâre dating your other brothers teammate, though he doesnât know that
request: carlos x leclerc!reader fic pleaseee! reader is arthur's twin and is secretly dating carlos
warnings: establish relationships, family fighting, jokes of assault | for everyone who sent requests, i am slowly making my way through them, i just have a lot going on so be patient đ merci
yourusername
liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc, and 80,321 others
yourusername waiting for the weekend
view all 124 comments
leclerc_pascale ma fille intelligente đ
âł yourusername merci maman â¤ď¸
user1 she always slays
user2 cute and smart??
arthur_leclerc whatâs got you so excited?
âł yourusername not telling đ¤Ť
user3 cutie â¤ď¸
âł yourusername miss you đđ we need to do another study date
user4 what university does she go to?
âł user5 berkeley. itâs in california
f1gossip
liked by user1, user3, and 132,045 others
f1gossip carlos sainz seen in california over the summer break. any idea who heâs seeing?
view all 132 comments
user1 doesnât he have friends in cali?
âł user2 i think so
user3 he looks good â¤ď¸
user4 heâs probably just visiting because he can
âł user5 i would too if i had a jet at my disposal
user6 do you know where in caifornia?
user7 this is actually so random đ¤¨
user8 he looks so lost all the time đđđ
yourusername
liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc, and 102,995 others
yourusername weekend you â¤ď¸
view all 145 comments
arthur_leclerc is that a man
arthur_leclerc who is that?
arthur_leclerc y/n
user1 arthur really panicking at the moment
âł arthur_leclerc yes.
user2 you look so comfy in the second photo
âł yourusername i was đ
leclerc_pascale dis-lui que je lui dis bonjour đ
âł yourusername fera đŤĄ
âł arthur_leclerc maman?
user3 . . . whoâs that man?
yourfriend text me asap !!!!!!
poopy đş
poopy đş
who was that man
i have no idea what youâre talking about
poopy đş
yes you do
iâm your post on instagram
there was a man
it could be one of my girlfriends whoâs masculine???
poopy đş
đđđ
no it canât
none of your friends look like that
how do you know that đ¤¨đ¤¨
poopy đş
thatâs besides the point
why are you hiding this from me? iâm your twin brother
exactly.
charles, lorenzo, and you (especially) scare everyone off
poopy đş
no we donât
what about ryan? or jack?
poopy đş
they werenât good enough for you
they never are!
maman liked them and i did too and you made them leave
poopy đş
does maman know about this one?
yes. now leave me alone arthur, iâm happy for once
iâm not letting you guys ruin this
carlossainz55
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 676,414 others
carlossainz55 quick recharge before heading back for some more racing!
view all 327 comments
user1 why did he in cali the time iâm not there đđ
user2 boyfriend material
charles_leclerc ready for another week!
user3 is that a woman???
user4 that is not a manâs hand in that last photo âźď¸
user5 wasnât expecting to see a soft launch today
user6 that last pic is so random but okay
f1gossip
liked by user1, user2, and 141,034 others
f1gossip carlos sainz seen in berkeley, california with a mysterious girl. sources say the pair would very close and cuddled up with the other. any ideas on who the girl is?
view all 157 comments
user1 girl what
user2 really pulling out those dance moves đşđşđş
user3 that kind of looks like y/n leclercâŚ
user4 why is it so hot that heâs lifting her up like sheâs a feather
user5 this is actually so random
user6 when did this start?
user7 doesnât y/n leclerc go to berkeley university?
yourusername
liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc, and 202,537 others
yourusername last photo is us waiting for arthur
view all 176 comments
arthur_leclerc i was not late you guys were too early
âł yourusername đ¤¨đ¤¨đ¤¨
âł charles_leclerc sureâŚ
user1 where are yâall going now
âł user2 probably the dutch grand prix? where else
user3 is arthur just chronically late?
âł yourusername yes đ
âł charles_leclerc yes
âł arthur_leclerc lies. all lies
user4 he really be kicking his feet
f1gossip
liked by user1, user4, and 123,084 others
f1gossip carlos sainz seen with the same girl heâd been with in california after the dutch grand prix. the couple was reported to be kissing and holding hands while out.
view all 137 comments
user1 who is she???
user2 theyâre very touchy
user3 he looks like he doesnât know whatâs happening
âł user4 he always looks like that babe
user5 you have to admit theyâre cute
arthur_leclerc
liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 351,180 others
arthur_leclerc itâs my twin sisters birthday! lucky to have you as a sister. happy birthday â¤ď¸
view all 221 comments
yourusername i feel exposed and vulnerable
user1 stunnin since birth
âł yourusername you know it đ
yourusername thanks ig đđ
user2 THE GOGGLES
user3 gorgeous babes
charles_leclerc happy birthday little sis â¤ď¸
âł yourusername iâm still not forgiving you for the 3rd photo
user4 her and arthur were so cute as little kids âşď¸âşď¸
âł yourusername still are babe
âł arthur_leclerc what do you mean were???
user5 iconic
leclerc_pascale joyeux anniversaire ma belle fille â¤ď¸
âł yourusername je t'aime maman â¤ď¸đ
carlossainz55
liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and 907,508 others
carlossainz55 feliz cumpleaĂąos a mi bebĂŠ â¤ď¸
happy birthday to my baby â¤ď¸
view all 401 comments
yourusername merci my love â¤ď¸
arthur_leclerc It was YOU?!?!
user1 iâm actually shocked
user2 was not expecting this
user3 my jaw is on the floor
charles_leclerc we have to talk
user4 the leclerc brothers are planning an assult
#emma writes#wcters 1k celebration#imagine#x reader#x fem!reader#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x y/n#f1#f1 x y/n#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 smau#f1 imagine#formula one#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#cs55
992 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Comrade Red Hood
jason todd x fem!reader
patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support
-> 3k words
-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive
-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him
âAre you upset?âÂ
âYes.âÂ
ââŚis it something I did?âÂ
âNot everythingâs about you.â
Jasonâs eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle. âDamn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.â
âGetting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.â
Silence.
âSure youâre not mad at me?â
âIâm beginning to.â You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. âWhat do you want, Jason?âÂ
âI was justâis there anything I can do for you?â He asks, shifting weight between his legs. âYou seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.â
âI just want to be alone.â You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. âMy head is killing me right now, but I just had an aspirin. Iâll be fine.â
âOkay. Iâll be in the living room if you need me.â Since itâs dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, youâre unable to take in the dejected look on his face.Â
Seeing youâve got no objections â he kind of hoped youâd change your mind and ask for cuddles â Jason leaves the room wordlessly. Itâs almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.
Even so, heâs surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, weâre talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.
Or at least thatâs what he usually is when heâs not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriendâs sour mood.Â
Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence â this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side.Â
At some point, your eyes flutter open. You donât even remember falling asleep. Thereâs a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM.Â
A five hour nap. Nice.Â
Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.
Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen.Â
The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. Youâre confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.
âThought you were still out on patrol.âÂ
He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. âJust got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.â
You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him.Â
His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. Heâs also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for âblessing your eyes with such a delectable sightâ, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows heâs incredible and beautiful.Â
There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hoodâs intense activities, you notice.Â
No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldnât be here. Heâd still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. Youâre still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.
Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasnât his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.
As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.
âFeeling better?â You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. âGood. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. Itâs in the kitchen.â
You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where thereâs a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter.Â
Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home.Â
Isnât that so cute?Â
After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate â to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor â and return to the living room to eat in Jasonâs company. Heâs still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. Itâs an unspoken agreement.
âI didnât know Mr. Abdulâs place stays open so late.â You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy.Â
Youâre sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. Heâs hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.
âIt doesnât.â Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. âI broke into his kitchen.â
You choke on a piece of pita bread. âWhat the f-â
âRelax. I left the money on the counter.âÂ
âAre you fucking kidding me??â He talks about it so casually. Almost like heâs done this before. âWait. So, the cookies from Elenaâs last timeâŚâ
âWell, that oneâs obvious.â Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, âBUT I never forget to pay, so technically Iâm not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.â
You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.
âRight. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.â You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jasonâs mouth opens in surprise. âPun intended, by the way.âÂ
âWhatever.â He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely.Â
As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what heâs reading. Itâs a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow.Â
âJason, is thatâyouâre reading The Capital?â
âYeah, why?â He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes. âYou think I only read fiction?âÂ
âI guess⌠but I only asked because I think itâs an odd choice of reading given your night.â You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. âArenât you supposed to be tired?âÂ
âOf fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.â He quips, a playful smirk on his face. âThis guy just gets me, you know?âÂ
Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. âI got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguinâs goons this time. There were dozens of them âcause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when theyâre unable to escape from a confined space?â
âIs that your way of telling me you were in a⌠kill frenzy?â You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesnât pose a danger to you.
Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital.Â
Two, he knows you worry about his safety.Â
Three, thereâs also the fact that heâd like to keep a sense of normalcy at home.Â
Four, and most importantly, he believes itâs best if you donât access his dark side, but sometimes â like right now â heâs unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, heâs only someone fighting their shadows like any other.Â
Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring.Â
Thereâs a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and heâs pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth.Â
âDonât worry, baby. I didnât shoot to kill..uh, mostly.â Thereâs no way of telling if heâs being sincere, and, frankly, youâd rather not think about this. As usual, heâs attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. âAnyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. Thatâs why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try⌠Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.âÂ
âHm, itâs fine. Iâll borrow it next time Iâm at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isnât a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,â you complain. âGlad youâre having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once youâre done.âÂ
âSo bossy.â He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. âAnd so pretty, too.â
He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder.Â
Devious bastard.
Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. âI mean it, Jason.â
âAlright, alright. Iâll mind your precious organization.â He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. âBut seriously, you do look pretty.âÂ
âWhat, out of a sudden?â You raise your eyebrows in amusement.Â
Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy.Â
But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments.Â
Especially not to the most precious person of his life.Â
And youâre aware of that. His eyes donât lie.
Thereâs that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging.Â
One thing is sure. Youâre the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul.Â
Because youâre the only one capable of bringing them out.Â
âNah, I always think that when I see your face.â Comes his reply.
At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.
First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. Youâre never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. Heâs done it before with other people, sure, but it didnât make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt â his shirt.Â
You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.
This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace.Â
Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, âWanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?âÂ
Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, âSâokay, baby. You donât have to tell me. Iâm sorry.â
You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your â his â shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling heâs trusty and willing to listen.
âNo, itâs just⌠ughâŚâ He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. âI had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that Iâve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didnât, saying that I didnât use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldnât take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, thatâs why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. Iâm sorry I took it out on youâŚâÂ
While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. Thereâs really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. âJason, no. Promise me you wonât do anything stupid.â
âHe upset you.â Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. âHe made you cry.âÂ
âNo matter how tempting, you canât just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.â
âI beg to differ.â
âJace.â You beg, exasperated. âPlease. Thatâs not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. Iâve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didnât tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Canât you do that for me?â The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. Youâre engulfed in a tight comforting hug.
âOf course, baby. Iâll never feel the same as you âcause Iâm not a woman, but you must know Iâm here for you and Iâm sorry you had to deal with this.â He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. âI wonât lie to you, though. Itâd be easy for me to rip that fucking bastardâs tongueââ
âJason.â
ââand feed it to his mouth until he chokesââ
âJason.âÂ
He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.
ââbut I wonât do that.â Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. âMy point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet heâs just jealous heâll never shine as bright as you do.â
You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. âI love you.â
âI love you too. A lot.â Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. âFeeling okay?â
âYes. Thank you.â You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. âIâm thinking if I were an Amazon, itâd probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.â
âHow so?â He tilts his head, confused.
âYou know⌠Iâd be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.âÂ
âYou already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade Iâve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when youâre in a room filled with strangers.â He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. âTrust me, sweetheart. You donât need to be an Amazon when youâre already a goddess.âÂ
âThatâs⌠wow⌠I wasnât expecting that.â The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just canât stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. âNever knew you could be so sappy.âÂ
He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.
âThatâs all on you. You turned me into this.â He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. Itâs beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. âTake responsibility, woman.âÂ
âFine,â you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. âBut, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.â
âYou mean a lot to me. Donât ever forget that.â One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well.Â
Suddenly, heâs covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gothamâs black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sunâs impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner.Â
âWe should probably sleep.â Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. âI already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.â
âYouâre such a dork.â
âAnd you need to get woke,â he taunts.
âThese are my books!â You counter, indignantly.Â
âOurs. Donât be so individualistic, baby. Thatâs why capitalismââ Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.
âYeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and letâs get ready for bed.â
thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33
feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!
this is where i got the dividers
#this is totally self-indulgent btw#jason todd fanfic#jason todd x reader#jason todd fluff#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#red hood imagine#dc fanfic#jason todd x y/n#dc imagine#red hood fanfiction#jason todd loves his gf#red hood x reader#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfiction
649 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Remember me
note -> ACT 3 SPOILERS!!! I am NOT okay!
parts -> part one | [part two]
pairing -> Jinx X fem! reader, platonic! Isha X fem! reader
summary -> You will always remember them.
warnings -> mentions of death.
content includes -> angst, death, suicidal thoughts, Vi and Ekko appear.
Life with Jinx and Isha felt perfect in a way you never thought possible.
The three of you spent most of your days hidden away in your workshop or Jinxs lair because of her wanted status. But you never minded it. If anything, you cherished the quiet moments the three of you shared.
Your days together were filled with laughter and creativityâtinkering with inventions, sketching out wild ideas, and playing games that felt like they belonged in a world far kinder than Zaun.
On rare occasions, youâd venture out into the Undercity together, blending into its chaos and finding moments of joy in its grim corners.
And at night, when everything settled, youâd find yourself lying between them. Ishaâs small frame curled up beside Jinx, and Jinxâs breath soft, her head laying on your shoulder.
Youâd look at them, the two people who had somehow become your entire world, and feel a warmth in your chest.
In those moments, you let yourself believe it could last. That the three of you could stay like this foreverâsafe, whole, and happy.
But Zaun isn't a place for dreams.
And you were wrong.
You were so, so wrong.
ââââ
It all happened so fast.
In one moment you were fighting alongside Jinx and in the next Isha was running towards Vander, Jinxs gun held tightly in her small hands.
You knew what she was going to do as she put two more hextech gemstones in the gun, and Jinx knew it very well too.
You two tried to get to her, calling out her name, trying to stop her from doing it, but you two were stopped by Vi, pulling you both back as you two despreatly called for the little girl.
The only thing you could do in that moment was watch as Isha shot a finger gun at you two before firing the real gun upwards, closing her eyes, feeling at peace knowing she was protecting you two.
And your world slowly started shattering into tiny pieces.
ââââ
You knew you couldn't do anything.
You know you couldn't save her.
Jinx has already accepted her fate a long time ago, she wasn't scared of death and she made peace with it.
"Always with you sis." Jinx said as Vi tried to pull her up. Jinx quickly removed the hextech gemstone from Vis gauntlets, making them power off and letting Jinx go.
Jinx looked at you with a small smile on her face as she started fallling. You screamed her name as you watched her fall before an explosion went off.
And in that moment your whole world shattered into tiny pieces.
ââââ
"Is there anything so undoing as a family?" you whispered, your words barely audible over the soft hum of Piltover below.
Your knees were brought up close to your chest, arms wrapped tight around them as your fingers absently traced the jagged edges of the bomb's shattered metal head of the bomb that had taken her life.
Vi and Ekko sat beside you in silence, their gazes fixed on the distant glow of the city. Neither of them said a word, and you couldn't bring yourself to fill the void.
They didn't know you well, not really; just a shared face in their grief, a faint reflection of their own shattered hearts. But in this moment, words didn't matter.
Each one of you had lost the most significant person in your life that day. A single point of light went out in a way that no amount of tears, anger, or revenge would ever balance.
Jinx was gone.
And nothing would ever bring her back.
ââââ
You knew your couldn't bring Jinx and Isha back, you know that the hole in your heart will never disappear.
You stood in Jinxs destroyed lair, holding onto one of her explosions as you looked down into the abyss.
You didn't want to live anymore, there was no reason for you to be alive. The only two people that made your life worth living for were gone, and you couldn't bring them back.
You wanted to end your life.
But before you could leap from the ledge a voice stopped you, making your ears perk up.
"Whatcha doing, toots?"
#jinx#jinx x reader#isha#isha x reader#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane league of legends x reader#arcane league of legends
487 notes
¡
View notes
Text
đ¤Sevika HCsđ¤
just random sevika hcs. broken up into categories for general, romantic, and nsfw headcanons respectively.
i didnât try very hard while writing this, so my writing is probably subpar here butâŚyolo.
men dni. minors dni. men dni. minors dni.
safe for enby lesbians. âĽď¸
general
* raging butch lesbian đ§Ąđ¤đŠˇ.
* her place is messy but in an organized chaos sort of way.
* she smells like cigar smoke (in a good way), leather, and peppery mahogany.
* collects bottle caps. i canât explain it, i just have a feeling she would!!
* has very, very cool, gay aunt vibes!!!
* actually an excellent cook.
* her carabiner is on the left side. she keeps the basics on it, so just her keys and one or two old key chains she has.
* in a modern au she would be into classic cars and the process of restoring them. her dream car is a 1970 mustang boss.
* on the topic of vehicles i can see her as a biker too. like, imagine seeing her taking off that helmet ⌠swoon! imagine being her backpack ⌠SWOON AGAIN!!!
romantic
* loves hugging you from behind
* if youâre with her at the last drop, she has her arm around you constantly. if itâs not that, sheâs having you sit on her lap.
* this woman is a capital F Flirt. will talk you up one side and down the other like itâs nothing. if youâre just someone she happens to lock eyes with at the bar, you guys could go back and forth with flirting and banter.
* BUT if you and sev have been together for a bit flirting can get her flustered from time to time. you know *just* what to say to her to make her short circuit a little bit. no one can get under her skin the way you can. /pos
* calls you baby. if youâre a femme, she calls you her femme.
* surprisingly soft lips.
* kissing her feels like a dream.
* sevika prefers a partner who can take care of themselves. after all, sheâs a busy woman and she canât always come to your rescue.
* her giving love language is acts is service. need something fixed? in classic butch fashion, sheâs absolutely got you covered. do you drink coffee or tea in the morning? sheâs got a cup ready for you in the morning, *just* the way you like it. sheâll do anything for you when sheâs got the time.
* her receiving love language? words of affirmation. she likes to know that you think sheâs *good*. that sheâs doing a good job and that you see that.
* would be so fucking whipped for you. youâre on her mind all the time. smiles when little things make her think of you. memorizes every little detail about you every chance she gets.
* she doesnât have a type. like, at all.
nsfw
* stone top. there. i said it.
* nipple piercings đ.
* oh, she is eating that thang. this woman is a munch. she would know just how to lick or suck you to make you come before you know it. itâs a very personalized experience.
* she learns you inside and out. knows every. little. thing that makes you tick.
* vocal. like, as in, she talks. sheâs dirty about it too. all âoh, yeah? you like that baby?â, âbe good for me, i know you can take itâ or âi know whatâs good for you, now fucking take itâ. she talks you through it every time.
* has a collection of straps. different strokes for different folks, am i right?
* touching on one of her receiving love languages being words of affirmation âŚ
* she loves to be praised.
* itâs something she would never explicitly ask you to do. itâs a subtle thing.
* itâs in the way she short circuits when you tell her how good sheâs doing, how good she makes you feel. you can tell she likes that, knowing that she is good for you, in the way her hands tremble or her hips stutter or, if sheâs going down on you, the way her eyes go soft.
* she will fuck you senseless and then be so, so sweet on you after. makes sure youâre taken care of, that thereâs something for you to drink, has towels ready for you incase you donât feel like showering for a while after you finish. seriously, itâs like two different people.
okay thats it. i am obsessed with this woman and just wanted to share some headcanons i had for her while i finish up a fic iâm trying to writeđ .
cant believe my first writing here was some random hcs but whatever!!!
requests currently open for multiple fandoms, including arcane :).
dividers by cafekitsune
#sevika#sevika x reader#sevika x fem reader#sevika x female reader#sevika x gn reader#sevika x nonbinary reader#arcane x reader#sevika arcane#arcane x gn reader#arcane x female reader
412 notes
¡
View notes
Text
FREAKY ON THE ROAD
âcw: 1k, fem!reader, nicknames, semi-public, voyeurism kink mentioned, blowjob, dirty talk.
âa/n: i am gonna marry this UV light eyed freak.
You never knew you were so starved for his touch until he brushed his knuckles against your cheek. His other hand held your waist, inching you ridiculously closer to him, as if he wanted your souls to merge. It was getting harder not to kiss him. Especially, when those cerulean eyes were hooked on you, having a full blown monologue in his mind.
âGive up. You know you're going to lose,â he whispered against your ear in a gravelly voice.
âI won't. Kiss me if you're that desperate.â Even though you said that, it was driving you crazy that he was so close to you, yet you cannot kiss him.
âOh you have no fucking idea how badly I want to. But my urge to see you lose control is stronger,â he blurted.
You knew how to play this game. You might be down bad for him but you were aware of one thing that makes him lose his mind. So...you played your ace.
Your fingers grabbed the hem of his shirt, stood on your heels since he was a little taller and moaned his name in his ears. That's all it took for him to just grab your lips with his. It never started soft. It couldn't since you tipped him over the edge.
âfuck baby! you make me lose my fucking mind,â he groaned as he brushed his body against you, where you could clearly feel his little general waking up.
âToru mhm...â It took you all your strength to push his lips away to talk because he won't let go. âI know you lost our game but did you lose your mind too? We're in a room full of people.â
âBlame yourself sweetheart. Should've never started something you know won't end nicely.â His big hand squeezed your ass. âWanna give them a show pretty? You know,â his fingers started playing with the fabric of your dress, â...that girl over there asked me out, because she thought we weren't together since you won't kiss me earlier.â
âNow why don't I just fuck you raw in front of her so she can get her answer?â
âYou're fucking crazy, Toru.â It turned you on.
âCrazy about you. I am so hard for you. Feel,â he guided your hand to his hard on. You squeezed it to mess with him.
âFuck! See?â
âScrew this party. Let's go home.â
Did you really think Satoru's gonna keep his dick outside your pussy for more than five minutes? You couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before he was touching you and kissing you all over again. The lights of the parking lot were dim and since everyone was enjoying the huge party, there was barely anyone there except for the valet who was dozing off.
âshit. toru...ngh can we at leastâfuck! can we at least hit the corner of the road?â
âhow many favors you gon' ask from me, princess?â
But he listens to you regardless. He pulls the car out of the dimly lit parking lot, the only sound emerging was the hum of the engine and your heavy breathing.
He drove for solid ten minutesâone hand rubbing your pussy through your pantiesâbefore he pulled over on a secluded road with almost no one around.
âGlad like we ditched that boring party for something much more interesting, didn't we?â
He grabbed your hand and placed it to his leaking cock through his black pants. It was hard to se because of the dark but now you could clearly feel the wet patch from the pre-cum on them. Shit. he really did hold out for long
His face had the saddest and most desperate look ever. You kissed his jaw as you unbuckled his belt and quickly freed his cock.
He took a deep breath, savoring your intoxicating scent as you leaned in, your soft lips brushing against his tip.
âHoly fucking god!â He moaned loudly when your warm mouth engulfed his cock. âMmm, that's more like it, baby.â His tip was so swollen, so red. He needed this. He needed you.
He wrapped his hands in your hair, guiding your movements as you begin to bob your head, taking more of him into your mouth with each pass
âThat's it, baby... fuck sss...â He hissed. âTake it all the way down. Let me feel those warm, wet walls squeezing my cock.â
He groaned softly as you hit a particularly sweet spot, making him jerking his hips upwards involuntarily âFhuuck, that's so good, baby. Keep going, just like that. ah!â
He looked down at you, his blue eyes sparkling with pleasure as he watched you work your magic on his cock.
âYou look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock, baby. Such a good little cocksucker. If I could, I would be stuffed in you 24/7â
He started to thrust his hips gently, fucking your face in slow, deliberate strokes.
âMmm, yes... take it deep, sweetheart. Want me to fill you up? Yeah?â A grin laced his lips as he watched you nod a yes on his cock.
He grabbed the back of your head, holding you steady as he picked up the pace, his cock slamming against the back of your throat with increasing force.
âGood. Fucking. Girl. Fuck, yes! Squeeze that dick with your throat. Show me how much you need my cum.
His hold tightens in your hair as he neared the edge, the pleasure building to a fever pitch within him.
âFuck! princess... I'm close. Gonna cum down your throat. Get ready to swallow every drop. Fuckfuckfuâaghh!â With a final, brutal thrust, he exploded, pumping jet after jet of hot cum directly into your waiting mouth.
âSwallow it all, baby...â And you did, lapping your tongue like a kitten to clean every drop off his cock. Panting heavily, he pulled you off his softening cock, his fingers tangling in your hair as he held you close
âMmm, that wasâfucking incredible! You always know just how to play with me.â
âLet's go home. toru...I am so wet. I can't take it.â You complain.
âAww, my poor baby. We can just fuck here if you can't wait.â He suggested as he wiped the sweat off your forehead.
âNo. I want you to fuck me in all the positions. This is too cramped to try all that.â You bit your lip. Not another word was uttered as he revved up the engine again. Fuck. That might be the hottest thing he has ever heard you say and he wasn't going to waste another minute.
âTake a leave for tomorrow from work. Not gonna make it when I fuck you all night.â He said, one hand on the steering wheel with eyes filled with lust.
âAlready did.â You winked and he groaned.
âYou know I am gonna marry you, right?â You chuckled at his words. You were made for each other. There was no one else that could drive him this wild and there was no one else that can see this part of you. You turned to him for sex but now...you had found your soulmate in him.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x female reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#gojo x you#gojo satoru smut#jjk
416 notes
¡
View notes
Text
I SWEAR THE DAY I DON'T HAVE HEART PALPITATIONS AND WITNESS MY SOUL ASCENDING OVER YOUR WORK IS THE DAY I HAVE PASSED FROM THIS WORLD.
HOPE YOU'RE READY FOR MY MANY SILLY RAMBLINGS UNDER THE CUT
FIRSTLY THIS,
So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before youâsilent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floorâyou almost laughed.
IS GORGEOUS. I LOVE THE EXPECTING OF SOMETHING DARK AND IT BEING SO LIGHT INSTEAD. AND LIKE IT BEING A PERFECT MIRROR OF MATTHEO AND HOW THE EXPECTATION OF THIS NIGHT BETWEEN THEM COULD BE. JUST HONESTLY BEAUTIFUL.
SECONDLY, YOU KNOW I ALWAYS ADORE YOUR CHARACTERISATION OF MATTHEO AND THIS IS NO DIFFERENT.
He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw itâthe hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lowerâand it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.
AND
He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.
I LOVE THAT HE'S NERVOUS, THAT DESPITE HIM BEING ESSENTIALLY IN CONTROL OF THIS SITUATION GIVEN THAT HE HAS THE EXPERIENCE, HE'S NOT ACTING CONFIDENT OR SMUG. HE'S UNSURE AND I LOVE THE SENSE OF VULNERABILITY.
"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush thisârush you."
I JUST WANT TO HOLD HIS PRETTY FACE. I LOVE PATIENT MATTHEO.
His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should beâ"
"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."
He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck."Youâre not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."
But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.
I AM OBSESSED OVER THE WAR WITHIN MATTHEO, THE WAY HIS BODY AND HIS ACTIONS DISREGARD HIS WORDS AND HIS FEAR. I LOVE HER CONFIDENCE IN HER DECISION AND HOW MUCH IT EFFECTS HIM TO HEAR IT.. AAAAAAA SLDKFJDJS GOD I WANT TO MARRY YOU'RE WRITING (and you)
âhis brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.
Untilâhis hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.
THE FUCKING SWITCH HERE OMG
You shudderedâyou'd never seen him like this beforeâthere was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked.
His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus onâthe intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.
FERAL MATTHEO. FERAL MATTHEO. FERAL MATTHEO. I'M SCREAMING. HOWLING. CLAWING AT THE WALLS. I'D LET THIS MAN TEAR ME TO PIECES WITHOUT HESITATION.
"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your foldsâand you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "âŚnot the consequences, not the risk...you just want meâŚâ
I FEEL CALLED OUT.
"Youâ" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."
DAMN FUCKING RIGHT I HAVE YOU SEXY BITCH. GODDDD I KNOW I'VE ALREADY SAID IT BUT YOU JUST WRITE MATTHEO SO PERFECTLY. TO HAVE HIM BE SO FUCKING COCKY DURING SUCH AN OVERWHELMING MOMENT. HE'S A LITTLE SHIT AND I LOVE HIM FOR IT.
His face was a stormâflushed, eyes half-shutâbut at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.
THIS!!!!!!! THE IMAGERY!!!!! JUST ALL OF HIS DEFENCES BLOWN AWAY, I LOVE IT SO MUCH
His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know youâve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about youââ
His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him upâdeep, desperate, drowning.
I'M SOBBING, THE INTENSITY BETWEEN THEM. I CANT BREATHE.
"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Justâfuckâdon't hate me after this."
JUST PUNCH ME IN THE HEART WHY DONT YOU.
His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more humanâsomething raw, unguarded.
You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you bothâthe distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.
"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.â
He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't.
EM WHAT THE HELL, I DIDNT EXPECT TO BE AN EMOTIONAL WRECK OVER A VIRGINITY LOSS FIC AT 11AM. GOD THE SOFTNESS IS MAKING ME ACHE.
It was overwhelmingâthe fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
OKAY I'M GOING TO STOP THERE OTHERWISE I'M JUST GOING TO BE PUTTING THE WHOLE FIC IN THIS REBLOG WITH MY SILLY LITTLE ANNOTATIONS. I'M OBSESSED WITH THIS, I LOVE THAT DURING IT HAPPENING THERE'S BARELY A SENTENCE WITHOUT THEM NEEDING TO GASP FOR BREATH, THE INTENSITY OF IT IS JUST PORTRAYED SO WELL. YOU REALLY ARE A MASTER OF YOUR CRAFT AND I'LL BE WORSHIPPING THIS FIC IN MY HEAD FOR WEEKS.
LOVE IT AND LOVE YOU đ¤
SLYTHERINSLUT0âS KINKTOBER
october 4th. mattheo - virginity loss / corruption kink.
PART TWO | kinktober masterlist. | 2024.
summary: pls read part one first for a lil buildup. also. im laughing at myself bc there was a perfectly good bedâŚright thereâŚ
warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, virginity loss, PIV, so much dirty talk, so much patience from mattheo, (more of a realistic virginity loss bc itâs not always easy), praise!!!!, slight degradation, fingering, multiorgasm, handjob, best friends lil sister trope.
Mattheo Riddle was so accustomed to this. The pulse of adrenaline in the dead of night, the quiet hum of anticipation stretching every second longer than it needed to be. You weren't naive to that, not to him, nor the danger he carried so effortlessly in his stride. He wore it like a second skin.
But youâyou were not accustomed to it. Not to any of this.
So when you pushed open the door to the room of requirement a little over ten-minutes later, you hadn't been sure what you were expecting to find. Something darker, maybe. More foreboding. But when the room revealed itself before youâsilent, draped in soft moonlight that pooled over the bed with a window wide and open, spilling that pale silver fog across the floorâyou almost laughed.
Too perfect. Too on the nose, like the castle itself had been watching you both for months and had decided this was the moment it would indulge you.
"You're late." Mattheo's voice cut through the quiet.
His back was to you, suit jacket discarded on an old oak desk against the wall, dark curls falling just above his collar as he stood by the window, eyes fixed on the lake. The moonlight made the ripples dance, just like the tension in the room.
You took a step toward him, silent.
He turned, finally. His eyes met yours and you saw itâthe hesitation, the way his gaze moved over you, slow, cautious. He took in the way the light draped itself over your shoulders, moving lowerâand it was as if for the first time, he allowed himself to see you fully, all the details he had so tried to ignore, now right in front of him. He drank them in.
You gave him a small, nervous smile, hoping it would ease the weight of his stare. "I didn't realize you were the type to keep track of time."
He moved closer, but not close enough. Not yet. His breath was tight, chest rising and falling too fast. The space between you felt like a chasm, though it was barely there at all.
"You've a lot to learn, little girl," he teased, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it did nothing to mask the conflict in his eyes. It was meant to disarm you, but it only made the air heavier. His jaw tightened. "You're sure about this?"
"Quite sure," you breathed, stepping closer, close enough to admire the sharp line of his jaw, the soft stubble. "You're the one who's hesitating."
"I'm not hesitating," he muttered, though the roughness in his voice betrayed him. He knew he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be doing this with you. His best friend's little sister. He wanted to give you every chance to stop this, to walk away. "Just trying not to rush thisârush you."
You let out a small huff, your hand moving up to find his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. Mattheo Riddle was nervous.
"You've been making me wait for months," you whispered. "I don't think a little rushing would hurt."
He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on your hand as it trailed over his chest, lower, teasing. Every touch was a flame against his skin, every breath between you a match struck in the dark. He wanted you, more than anything, but the weight of itâthe wrongness, the dangerâclawed at his conscience.
His hand caught your wrist, intending to stop you, but his fingers lingered against your skin. Frozen.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he muttered, the words thick in his throat. "Your first time should beâ"
"My choice," you interrupted, pressing closer, your body flush against his, your lips brushing his jaw as your hand slid lower, teasing the edge of his belt. "My virginity is mine to give, Mattheo. And I want to give it to you."
He shuddered, your words settling, sinking into the dark space that held you both captive. His hand found your hip, the other threading through your hair, gently tugging your head back to expose the soft skin of your neck.
"Youâre not thinking straight," he rasped. "You'll regret this..."
But even as he said it, his hands tightened, pulling you impossibly closer.
"I'll regret nothing." Your fingers slipped lower, grazing his crotch, moving with nothing but instinct and need. Biting your lip, you felt the outline of him, hard and aching under your palm, and squeezedâhe grunted, snapping his hips, and you throbbed. "Shit, Mattheo..."
"You areâfuck..." Mattheo's voice was a ragged breath, the words drawn out like he'd been holding them back for months. "...such a little tease."
You let go as quickly as you'd squeezed, and he growled against your skin, fingers tightening in your hair. Your hands found his face, pulling him in, crushing your lips to his. You moved with intent, pushing him back until his thighs hit the edge of the desk, and he groaned againâthis low, guttural sound that sent a thrill through you.
You smirked into the kiss, tasting his frustration, savouring the way his defences cracked open. When you pulled back, his chest was heaving, lips swollen, eyes dark with want.
"I learned from the best," you whispered, teasing as your fingers slid down, finding the buckle of his belt. He watched you, every breath uneven, as you worked at the latch, pulling the leather free. "You've had months of fun tormenting me," you continued, moving to the button, the zipper. "Kissing me, only to say it was a mistake. Grabbing my ass every chance you could. Talking sweet when my brother wasn't looking..." your smirk deepened, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "...it's my turn now."
His pants sagged around his hips as you undid them and he cursed under his breathâhis brain was struggling to catch up, like he couldn't believe the sudden shift, couldn't quite fathom the boldness with which you undid him.
Untilâhis hands were on you, spinning you around, your back hitting the desk with a thud.
"You think you're in control here?" His fingers slid up your hips, dragging your dress along with them, baring your skin to the cool air. "You think you have any goddamn idea what you're doing?"
You shudderedâyou'd never seen him like this beforeâthere was something feral in the way he moved, now, something sharp in the way his hands worked. His thumbs hooked around your panties and in one swift motion, they were goneâtorn down your thighs before he urged you back onto the desk, parting your legs with his torso.
You were breathless, chest heaving, pulse thrumming wildly. His presence consumed the room, and for a moment, it was all you could focus onâthe intensity of him, the raw, unfiltered hunger in his eyes.
You stared up at him, mind empty, untilâ
Smack.
His palm came down on your inner thigh, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to send a jolt of sensation straight to your cunt. Your skin stung from the contact, but that wasn't the part that made you gasp. It was the heat, the way it surged through your veins, flooding your abdomen in a slow, aching pulse. You liked that.
"I asked you a question." His lips brushed against your ear, breath warm as he leaned in. "Two, actually."
You couldn't think, mind swimmingâthe press of his body, the rough timber of his voice, the weight of his hands as his fingers teased, climbing higher, brushing closer to the ache between your thighs. You sucked in a breath, trying to recall what he'd asked, trying to focus anything but the fire he was lighting in youâ
But then, his fingers slipped further, closer, just barely brushing your slit, and your hips jerked involuntarily, chasing that touch.
"NoâI donâtââ the shame in the answer barely mattered. His fingers were so close, so close. "GodsâI just know I want youâ"
"That's all you think about, isn't it?" He smirked, lips falling to your neck, tongue tracing the places he knew would wreck you, each soft, wet press making you whimper despite yourself. "You don't care about anything else..." his fingers slipped lower, dipping between your foldsâand you cried out, shameless, the sensation unlike any other you'd ever felt. "âŚnot the consequences, not the risk...you just want meâŚâ
Your nails dug into his back and he sucked in a breath through his teeth, wetting his fingers in your arousal before gliding back up to your clit and tracing over it.
"OhâGodsâ" you whinged, moaning into his shoulder.
Mattheoâs hands were experiencedâthat much was certain. Those fingers knew exactly how to move, precisely how to trace light, delicate circles over your clit that made you twitch, squirmâ nerves stripped as you took in the new sensation. It wracked every inch of you, and you could feel him savouring your helplessness, drawing out every ounce of tension that had been building between you for months.
âYouâre soaked.â You could hear the disbelief in his voice. â...filthy little thing for me, aren't you?"
"Gods, Mattheo, yesâ" your eyes rolled, thighs twitching against his hand. "I amâohhâ"
"Yeah?" His tongue traced a slow, wet path up the side of your neck, teeth dragging over your pulse. "You like this?"
His words were enough to make you want to scream, but no sound formedâjust a low, broken moan that spilled from your throat, raw and shameless.
"Answer me," he murmured. "You ever orgasm from this before? Hm?"
"Noâ" your voice choked, trembling as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to look at him, something like shame pooling in your stomach. "Oh, fuckâ"
"No, what?" His fingers pressed harder, circles growing faster, more insistent, and his voiceâChrist, his voiceâ "I asked you two questions, little slut. Keep up. You wanted this."
"YesâmmfâI like itâ" you whined, the words a desperate spill from your lips, too flustered to form anything coherent. "And noâGodsâyou're the first to...to touch me like this..."
He figured as much but the admission tore through him nonetheless, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a groanânot enough to hurt, but enough to leave a mark, a bruise, a reminder. His hand dipped lower, a finger pushing inside you without warning, pressing deep into your slick heat, and you cried out, your body tightening, pulsing around him, vision swimming.
"And this?" His voice was a smirk against your skin. "You let anyone else inside you like this?"
You knew he already knew the answer. You both did. He was reveling in itâthe way he had you, trembling, helpless. You'd never heard him like this, never heard him so crass, so unfiltered, and the way he spoke made your whole body flush with heat.
"No." The word was a strangled moan, barely a breath. "GodsâMattheoâyou already knew thatâ"
He crooked his finger inside you, and your back arched, the stretch unfamiliar yet mindnumbing, his thumb working your clit. You felt teeth nipping at your earlobe, a hum into your eardrumâhis body thrumming with the satisfaction of finally, finally letting himself have you where he wanted.
"Perhaps I did." He added another finger, curling them inside you, his teeth scraping along your neck in a smile. The groan that slipped from your lips was desperate, pained in its pleasure, your body reacting to every new inch of him. "Fucking hellâyou can barely take two..."
Your head shook, words failing you. "GodsâMattheoâI...fuck..."
A low grunt rumbled from his chest, his fingers moving quicker, slick with the evidence of your desire. "Feels good?"
"Yesâ" you moaned, breath hitching, vision blurring as he pumped his fingers in and out, building something inside you that you couldn't name, something new, something overwhelming. "I feelâoh, godsâsomething...happeningâ"
"You feel something?" His voice was mocking, drenched in that innocent, teasing tone that had you falling apart. "Yeah? What's happening, princess?"
You couldn't find breath, couldn't form the words to answer him. The pressure inside you was mounting, intensity unbearable, your body tense and straining toward an edge. You clung to him, breathless, desperate for more, desperate for something, anythingâ
"I don'tâ" your voice broke as his fingers curled deeper, wetness flooding between your thighs, his thumb relentless. "Pressureâfuckâso muchâ"
He nodded. "Yeah? Pressure in that pretty stomach? Feels fucking good, doesn't it?"
"Fuckâyes, yes," your lids fluttered. "Sâgoodâ"
"You're so close." He watched you, drunk on your downfall, and smirked as you neared the edge. "You're going to cum for me."
Sanity shattered in your throatâwords trapped, swallowed by the tension, leaving only the soft, unbridled whimpers you once might've once found embarrassing. But there was no shame now, not when you were this close, the pressure coiling tighter in your core, ready to burst.
"Ohhâ" you managed, lungs sputtering, head tipping back. The sound of your voice, the way you moaned, was foreign, unfamiliar to your own ears. "Godsâoh fuck-"
"I know," he cooed, sweet like sugar. "I know."
You were a mess. Too close, too overwhelmedâeverything was him. His scent, the heat of his skin, the feel of his fingers working that magic that had your body convulsing before you could even cry out, before you could process the way your vision blurred with the force of it. The climax hit like a wave crashing over you, and your moans were swallowed by his kiss, his lips on yours the second your body tightened, shaking against his hand.
He was relentless, rough and insistent, kissing you like he wanted to devour you wholeâdrowning out the world as your body pulsed around his fingers. Youâd never felt such an intense sensation, lava coursing, replacing the blood in your veins. His breath stuttered against your mouth, a low groan vibrating through him, the sound making your spine tingle.
"F-fuck," he muttered, pulling his fingers from you, glistening and wet. "Messy little thing."
The words sent a shiver through you, not just from their meaning but from the way he said them, like something perverse, intimate. Your chest tightened with the warmth of them.
"Youâ" you panted, trying to find your voice. Blinking through the haze of lingering bliss. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?" He chuckled your name against your neck, lips brushing a path to your ear. "Because you might fall in love with me?" His teeth grazed the sensitive spot under your lobe, along your jawline. "Oh wait...you already have."
"Shut up," you whispered, stomach flipping at the way he said your name, the way it dripped from his mouth like honey. "Have not."
"I've known for a while, you know," he mused, his voice so low, so quiet. "Don't think I haven't seen itâthe way you look at me." He kissed your skin again, working his way up, each press of his lips something sacred, moving closer to your mouth. "The way you can't get enough of me."
You could kill him for it, for the way his words sunk into your bones, making all the feelings you've buried rise to the surface, pulling you under. He just had to go thereâhad to milk every inch of your composure out of you, because it's not enough for him to have you disarmed physicallyâsexuallyâhe needed to have you disarmed emotionally, too.
Perhaps the worst part of it all is how right he was. Arrogant bastard.
"Stop talking," your hand drifted down, grazing the bulge in his pants, your fingers slipping under the waistband, rubbing him through the thin fabric of his boxers. It was reckless. You've never done this before, but God, you wanted to. "Stop talking and teach me."
The room tiltedâthe world off its axis. His breath caught, choked in his lungs as he grabbed your face and pulled your lips to hisâhis kiss wild, his tongue insistent, running along your gums and wrestling with yours for control.
"Fuck," he groaned into your mouth as you tugged his boxers down, freeing him, your hand wrapping around him. Hot. Hard. "Wrap your fingers around it, princess. Gentle strokes. Just like that."
Your heart stumbled at the sound of his voice, thick, raw and open. You tightened your grip, stroking him slowly, experimentally, and he hissed through his teeth, a groan vibrating through his chest.
"You're so big," you murmured, forehead against his, the words spilling out without thought. "So thick..."
"Fucking minx," he moaned. "Stroking me and telling me how big I amâfuckâyou're not as innocent as everyone thinks."
"Only you know this," you whispered, your hand moving in slow, deliberate strokes, pulse soaring as he groaned. "Does it feel good, Matty?"
"FuckâChristâ" his breath was jagged, words ripped from his throat like they barely wanted to come out, hips jerking mindlessly. "Tighter, mmâlittle tighterâ"
Your cunt throbbedâeach whispered invocation of a god not his own, of something he didn't believe in, forced a shudder through you. That's how you knew. Knew how lost he was. Heâd no mind left at all if he was muttering muggle gods.
"Like that?" Your fingers squeezed around him, your gaze burning into his as you looked up through fluttering lashes.
His face was a stormâflushed, eyes half-shutâbut at your voice they opened and flicked down to yours, and for once, there was no arrogance, no mockery in that stare. Just raw, primal need, burning so fiercely it made you ache. His hips rocked, desperate for more. Painfully. A hole in his chest torn wide open for you to see, and he didn't care. Couldn't care.
"Yeahâshitâjust like that," he gritted out, grip on your hips bruising, but you welcomed it. Needed it. "Fast learner, aren't you?"
"You're a good teacher," you whimpered, a sound that was barely yours as his fingers slipped between your thighs, finding your slit, teasing you open again. "Ohâ"
"You've always been a little teacher's pet," he groaned, thrusting into your hand as he slipped a finger inside you. The stretch made you wince, pleasure and pain blurring into something that sent sparks behind your eyes. He watched you, gaze molten. "Fuckâitâs gonna hurt, you know that, right?"
The ache spread through you, but you didn't flinch. "I know," you whispered as his thumb found your clit, making you gasp. "I trust you."
"I know you do." His voice dropped, eyes dark and soft at once as he pushed another finger inside. "You know youâve always had me wrapped around your fucking finger. You know I care about youââ
His words were too much, pressing on something fragile inside you, and you pulled him into a kiss to shut him upâdeep, desperate, drowning. Your hand tightened on his length, the heat between you flaring, and you moaned against his mouth, shaking with the need for more.
"I want you," you breathed, each syllable shivering on your lips as you clenched around his fingers. "I've wanted you for monthsâ"
Months? No, it had been years. Years of wanting, needing, watching from afar, heart in your throat. Years of avoiding anyone else because no one was him. You knew heâd felt the same and it killed him. It wasn't logical, wasn't supposed to be like thisânot with you, not now, not his best friend's little sister, not him whispering sweet, dangerous things while knuckle-deep inside your virgin cunt.
It was as if you both shook those thoughts from your minds at once. Youâll think about the implications later.
"You've got me," he rasped, hips grinding involuntarily against your hand. "Justâfuckâdon't hate me after this."
Hate him? The very idea was laughable, absurd. You could never hate him. Not even in those moments you tried, not even when he deserved it.
"I could never hate you," you murmured, drawing him closer, lips trembling against his. "Justâpleaseâ"
Something shifted in his eyes, and he knew. Knew what you needed. What you both needed. You were vulnerable, trembling, but you trusted himâcompletely. Youâd been in his life for so long. You knew heâd never hurt you. He could see it your eyes, the trust, the in the way your body bent to his touch.
"Alright," he said softly, a hand running up your body to cup your face, thumb brushing your cheek. "Alright."
His fingers slid out of you, leaving you bare and breathless, and you swallowed. This was really about to happen.
"Lay back," his voice cut through your haze. "Legs to your chest."
The command wrapped around you like a vice, tightening the anticipation, and you fell back on your elbows, staring up at him as you raised your legs. Vulnerability crept in, making your thighs tense, but Mattheo was there, spreading you open with firm hands, pressing himself against your slick. His eyes were locked onto yours, all that self-assurance gone, melted into something more humanâsomething raw, unguarded.
You could feel it; the vulnerability of this moment stretched between you bothâthe distance you'd maintained for so long, the careful walls you'd built, were nothing now. He was in too deep, and so were you.
"Stop me at any time," he whispered, his voice a raw rasp, eyes meeting yours. "Just breathe.â
He leaned down until his lips ghosted over yours, and you kissed him like the world might collapse if you didn't. He guided himself against you, the press of him at your entrance an unbearable ache. He was hot, hard, hugeâand despite the wetness slicking down your thighs, your body resisted, too tight, too unsure of this.
You whimpered, instinctively trying to pull away, but he stayed, pressing kisses to your hair, your temple, whispering something that sounded like comfort but burned like fire. It hurt more than you expected, more than any of the fantasies you had dared to entertain.
Doubt curled through your chest, what if you couldn't take him? What ifâ
"M-Mattheo..." his name broke in your throat as you clutched his arm, nails digging into his skin. He tried to push in again, but your body resisted. "Itâyouâyou can't fit..."
"Shh," his lips ghosted over yours, his hand slipping through your hair, trying again, moving slow, controlled. "You're justâso goddamn tightâ"
The way he said it sent a spark through your veins. It was filthy, shameless, and it lit you up from the inside, despite the pain. No one had ever spoken to you like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat, tears pricking as he tried to work you open.
And thenâhe was in.
"I-it hurts," you hissedâpain lighting up your spine as he worked his cockhead inside you, pushing against the resistance of your walls. His breath came in sharp, ragged bursts, each inch a battle. The pressure was unbearable, the sting so sharp it was paralyzing. "Oh, fuck, Mattheoâ"
He groaned, a sound from deep within his chest, his head bowing, sweat creeping over his brow.
"Shhh, I knowâI know..." he murmured through shredded cords, fighting to maintain control as his hips paused, barely halfway in, just enough to make you feel like you might break. "S'okay...you're doing so good..."
It was overwhelmingâthe fullness, the ache that felt like it might split you in two. And yet, beneath the pain, something else stirred. His words, soft and rough all at once, made the sensation bearable, turned the hurt into something else. You focused on his voice, on the way he stroked your hair, the way he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
"Whyâmmffâgods..." you could barely speak, the words tangled in your throat. "Why do you have to be so bigâ"
A strangled laugh escaped him, though his eyes stayed shut tight, his jaw clenchedâcock twitching inside you.
"I don'tâfuckâknow." His fingers brushed your lips, covering your mouth gently. "Don't go talking like thatânot right nowâ"
You might have laughed, too, if your body wasn't so taut, strung tight with tension and pain and something far more profound. He was barely inside you, his words making your insides clench, drawing another groan from his lips at the squeeze.
His hand held your jaw, palm pressing lightly over your mouth, enough to breathe, to speakâ
"Whyâ" you knew what he meant, knew the warning in his eyes, but you couldn't stop yourself. "ânot?"
His breath hitched. "Becauseâ" he swallowed hard, words coming through gritted teeth, his fingers tightening around your jaw, a warning in his grip. "Becauseâfuckâyour mouth will get you in trouble."
Oh. That was what he meant.
"Butâoh fuckâyou're so...big..." the words slipped out before you could catch them, a disgruntled moan falling from your lips as he sank all the way in, filling you so completely it was dizzying. The pressure, the heat, the sensation of being pried openâit was all too much, and you cried out, unable to stop the sound from spilling out. "Ohhhâso bigâ"
"I said, fuck," he cursed, hand clamping firm over your mouth now as his body shuddered, as he ground his hips gently into yours. "âdon't say that."
It was too late. You didn't need to say anything further. He could feel itâhe could feel everything in the way you clenched around him, barely letting him moveâso goddamn tight it was almost painfulâhe could feel it in the look in your eyes, in the trembling of your body beneath his.
"I can feel you thinking it," he grunted as you squirmed beneath him, every movement making him twitch inside you, drawing another choked groan from his throat. "Merlin sakesâ"
You knew he wasn't used to this. To slowing down, to drawing out the tension like this, to the maddening slowness of every motion. He wanted to lose himself, to break you open hard and fast, to take and give and take again until both of you shattered into something unrecognizable. But he couldn'tânot with the way your eyes glistened, not with the way you gasped and whimpered as he filled you.
"No talking," he sucked in a breath against your neck, his hips rolling into yours in slow, unbearable waves. "Only if you need me to stop."
He was breaking. So were you. Every thrust was an exquisite kind of tortureâan ache that twisted and stretched, dulled only by the flick of his fingers against your clit. His lips pressed along your neck, kissed along the line of your jaw, groaning with each deep, patient push, carving his way into you as you clung to him, your mind floating through the fog of pain into something differentâsomething overwhelming.
Your head fell back. âOhâOh godsââ
Each gasp felt like it might be your last as that something built deep inside you, tight and unfamiliar, an ache that didn't hurt but begged to be released. And he felt it tooâMattheo felt it, the way your body pulsed beneath his, the way you tightened around him like you couldn't bear to let him go.
"Bloody fuckâare youâare you going toâ" his words were ragged, broken. He couldn't finish the thought, couldn't hold himself together. "Are youâ"
âMattheoââ your voice trembled, a breathless moan as your back arched, pressing into him, your body seeking more. The pain was null now, replaced by an overwhelming pressure, something tight and aching and goodâyou felt every inch of him inside you, every pulse of his cock as he moved, slow but relentless. âMattheoâoh godsââ
"Fuckâ" he bit down, teeth sinking into your neck as his fingers swirled your clit in rhythm with his thrusts. "You're gonna make meâ"
You choked because there was no space for words, no breath for anything but the raw sound of your bodiesâmoans, gasps, ragged inhales tangled together as you both hurtled towards something inevitable. The light of the moon radiated the man above you and that was all you could register other than the rising crescendo of your climaxâsomething so intense it scared you, almost broke you apartâyour body seizing, trembling, as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, as he thrust deeper.
And then, there was only one more blink until you shattered beneath him, the orgasm tearing through you in oceanic motion, muscles clenching around him so tightly he could barely moveâand then he was there, too, his body jerking as he groaned into your skin, his release ripped from him in jagged gasps as you milked him without mercy. He slumped on top of you, fingers digging into your skin, the two of you pulsing together in the aftermath, the room spinning, your bodies still trembling from the force of it.
The world was slow to return, the roar of sensations fading into something quieter, softer. The weight of him on top of you was groundingâhis forehead pressed against the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Neither of you moved for a long while, just basked in the silence, kind that settled in after something irrevocable had passed between two people.
And then, Mattheo pushed up, enough to meet your eyes. Your chest ached at the softness inside his own.
âAre youââ he swallowed as he drank you in, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the flushed cheeks. His words hung in the air as if he didnât know how to finish the question.
âIâm okay,â you nodded, voice hoarse. âIâm good.â
Mattheo nodded too but didnât move, still buried inside you, just taking you in. Then, gently, he shifted, pulling back with a slow, careful movement that made you wince slightly. The second heâd pulled out, you felt differentâmore aware of the vulnerability youâd just laid bare, more aware of the line you two had just obliterated into absolute shambles.
âYou sure?â he asked, a flicker of something deeper in his gazeâ
You nodded again, the smallest smile pulling at your lips, though your heart was still racing, the enormity of it all sinking in.
âYeah,â you whispered. âIâm sure.â
His jaw tightened, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face, his thumb lingering on your cheek.
âThis changes everything, doesnât it?â His voice was barely audible, like he didnât want to admit it out loud.
Of course he was thinking it tooâhow could he not? This was no longer something you could pretend didnât exist, no longer something you could hide behind banter and stolen glances and secret kisses.
âYeah,â you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, the heat still radiating from his skin. âIt does.â
#do you have any idea how much i worship you#i swear your writing makes me fall in love every damn time#and then i need 7-12 days to emotionally recover#fuuuuuuck#this is my favourite mattheo#mattheo riddle x reader
2K notes
¡
View notes
Text
"What Happens When..." | [SKZ] OT8 | [FELIX]
You and Felix have a mutual agreement that having others in the bedroom is fun - but tonight you'd invited all seven of them to join.
Genre: Smut [18+ MDNI] Pairing: Felix x Fem!Reader Warnings: cosplay/roleplay, dom!felix, dom!skz, reader gets used like a toy/objectification, lots of jerking off lol, BJ mention, so much cum, there's no mention of who the reader is cosplaying so it's up to your interpretation !! Also little to no dialogue in this one oops
Notes: This IS a short fic and isn't anything really long. There's no plot - it's purely smut for your viewing pleasure and my mental peace, lol. <- And thank you to everyone who waited so patiently for this while I went through my writers block rut, hahaha.
Word Count: 1.2K
Divider by @enchanthings
Felix had told you he was having the boys over before all of this had happened. He'd come to you, said they were having dinner in your apartment, and then maybe having a few drinks while playing a really aggressive game of Uno. But they didn't even get quite that far.
With your boyfriend eager to show off your newly purchased and perfectly decorated (in his opinion) shared apartment, Felix had given the group a tour of the place. Which meant they'd all slowly piled into the room with widened eyes at the sight of you dolled up; Makeup done, wig on, costume snug to your form and ring light propped up with your phone. You'd smiled, shy. "Sorry! Just taking some videos. Am I being too loud...?"
Felix, not having thought too much of your cosplay, just giggled and expressed how much he adored you and how wonderful you looked. But the others shared a few glances behind the blonde, Jisung's hands rubbing over his thighs and Hyunjin's hands already eagerly unzipping his fly.
.
"I never thought this day would come. It's just like she jumped out of the game and into real life." Though maybe Jisung was saying that just because he was behind you and couldn't see your face all that much. He was enjoying himself regardless, tugging on his cock with a tight fist just like every other man standing around you. A pretty pink with a swollen tip and pre leaking down his shaft to slacken every stroke, Jisung's cock looked all the more appetizing any glimpse you caught of it. If you could you would've put it in your mouth immediately, but you were a bit busy as it was.
Chris and Minho had taken to standing on either side of you; Minho's cock heavy, weighing down even when you held it so carefully in your hand. Thick, warm, pulsing each time your thumb slid over his tip to tease at his slit and make him shiver. He'd grow impatient in little to no time, though it had been a good fifteen minutes that he'd let you stop and go with your hand around his cock - so he'd taken your hand into his, thick fingers wrapping over your own to guide you. And he's not gentle with the way he moves your hand along under his own, jerking himself off but to the softness of your own palm.
But to the other side of you, Chris was more willing, more sweet. He'd watched every movement you made for him, your opposite hand fumbling with Minho - and then his own length as you gently grabbed for it. Your fingers ghosted over his thigh before he nudged your wrist with his thumb, a gentle push to your destination. Your fingers wrapped around him so nicely and honestly? The gentle and soft squeeze you gave to the base of his cock every few seconds was enough for him to be happy; Unlike Minho, he was content with the subtle touches - and though you didn't know it, he almost saw it as a form of edging. Which he enjoyed more than he would care to voice aloud in front of everyone else.
Beneath you sat one of your closest friends from the group - The youngest. Of course they'd let him get the best seat in the house, let him indulge in the warmth and sweetness of your dripping walls. Jeongin's legs carefully crossed so he sat with them like a pretzel, letting you kneel atop his lap with your knees on either side of his thighs, pressing hard into the carpet below. He'd been careful, patient, cautious as you settled in his lap - then on his cock; With long fingers reaching down to spread you open for him, so careful of your costume and wanting to keep it clean just in case this ever happened again. You know, future use. He was watching with curious, dark eyes as his length disappeared into you inch by inch. His breath shuddered each time you let your hips roll down into his own before pulling back off, almost letting him slip out of your slick walls. And he whimpered each and every time.
Changbin sat back against the wall, lounging in a chair that you'd had in the corner of your room - just for events like this. You'd discussed it with Felix before, the two of you mutually agreeing that you enjoyed having someone else in the bedroom every so often. Changbin; He visited weekly by this point - that was basically his chair now. Sitting back, thighs spread, cock twitching in his sweats like it always did when he watched you. His chest raised heavy with each breath; slow, steady, calculated. He liked it this way - Not touching himself, not indulging. Just watching and letting his body react to the sight in front of him. And if you could see him he was sure you'd be foaming at the mouth, spit dripping from your lips in anticipation in want to get a hold of him. You'd done it before.
Hyunjin - Well. He'd already lost it. Sitting back against the edge of your bed, pants down around his ankles and body trembling with release, his hand was covered in not one but two loads of cum that'd leaked from his tip. He'd been the first to indulge in his guilty pleasures, lost in the sight of you bouncing on the youngest's cock while still managing to pleasure others around you. You let them use you like this - all dressed up and pretty for them, one of their favorite characters. He was spent by the time you even touched Jeongin or the others, one hand muffling his moans pressed over his mouth while the other continued to shakily tug and rub at his cock - always leaking for you.
The other two..
Felix had allowed his roommate the sweetest of luxuries; Your mouth. While he sat back and just enjoyed the scene, actually kneeling close to your side to keep one hand on the back of your neck and guide you - he tried to keep out of the way of Jeongin. Your boyfriend kept himself leaned in close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as your mouth wrapped around his roommate's cock; How well you were doing, how you were perfect for Seungmin and how he'd never get over being sucked off by his favorite girl. "You should look up at him," He'll whisper. "He's told me before he loves it when his partners look him in the eye."
And sure enough when you glance up, Seungmin's already staring down at you; Eyes lidded, dark, heavy with lust and pooling with admiration. Despite the nonchalant and almost glaring look on his features, a soft hue of pink dusts his cheeks - proving he really was enjoying getting head from his favorite girl in the world. He let his hand come to your shoulder - then to your head, gently pushing down as his hips rocked forward. And as your throat filled with his cock, cum leaking for you to swallow down, you seemed to come to the realization that this was something you really enjoyed; Dressing up for them, letting them all in on the fun.
Maybe you'd have to do it again.
Tag List : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @inlovewithstraykids @seungminsbest @edit-me-prettyplease @butterflydemons @satosugu4l @jeonginsleftcheek
#skz imagine#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz smut#stray kids smut#felix x reader#stray kids headcanons#skz fic#stray kids fic#ot8 x reader#bbokicidal#what happens when
303 notes
¡
View notes
Text
My grandma, mom and sister are very scared of spiders. I used to just as scared as them.
For some reason I decided to write my hs communications class speech on why people are afraid of spiders. Finding out that less than 1% of all spider species are medically significant did wonders for my relationship with them.
Now I love spiders. Learning about them, and telling myself constantly that they are friends worked. I still am scared of getting bit; because it will hurt and Iâm a wimp, but I also catch spiders barehanded pretty often. I get sad that they will never understand how much I love them. That I donât want to hurt them. That I think theyâre pretty and cute and so darn cool. I love spiders! But Iâm also still scared of them.
Bees and especially wasps are critters I love from a distance. My fear of getting stung is probably out of proportion, but it doesnât stop me from petting bees sometimes, so I think where Iâm at is fine. Yeah you read that right! I pet bees!! Theyâre super soft. You gotta be really really gentle and delicate in your touch. If you do it right, like gently bumping them ever so lightly, they donât even seem to notice! Itâs always nerve wracking but fun too. Never have they ever gotten aggressive over it in my experience.
Oh, and for the love of anything and everything, do not put up sticky traps outside. Donât.
Been working in pest control for 3 months now and i can confidently say that nobody on earth seems to understand that sometimes You Will See A Bugs and thatâs Normal if you live literally anywhere with oxygen
76K notes
¡
View notes
Text
salvatore - itoshi sae being a romantic genius cause i said so warning: none + aged up! itoshi sae note: i still cant believe the fishi, the legend might i add, asked ME.. ME for a collab write. am i dreaming? i completely went off topic btw cause that song made me confused
link to goatshi's ver (you better read it) also forgot to tag the goat @fishii-writes
expensive cologne floated through the entire penthouse, filling the air with its rich scent after a perfume bottle shattered. the owner shrugs, itâs like pocket change for him, you laugh at his nonchalant attitude, settling to stand in the balcony until the smell is goneÂ
the view of the spanish coastline looked almost like a sight straight out of a movie, making the penthouse felt like a castle perched on a hill, its high walls shielding you from the outside world and prying eyes. a velvet sofa rests outside to accompany you both, sae sitting and staring at youÂ
âcariĂąoâ, sae's deep voice brought you back to the present, to turn around and face him. âlike the view?â
âi love itâ, you lean on the balcony railing, eyes drifting between the view and him
his teal eyes softened slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips, but it seemed tinged with sadness. his gaze lingered on you, as though memorizing the moment, taking the time to photograph your beauty as if you were leaving soonÂ
âpeople know how to live and forget," sae sighed, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "there are only two options"Â
you arched a brow, intrigued. âand what are the two options?â
âyou either forget, or you get swallowed by it," he said, voice dropping a little. "itâs everythingâthe past, the present, and the futureâÂ
â.. i dont understand anything but you look handsome under the moonlightâ
your laughter broke the tension, and sae raised an eyebrow, surprised by your light-hearted comment. here he was, getting sentimental, and you were busy admiring him? he watched you walk closer, your hands brushing over the soft fabric of his silk shirt. he let you feel it before you both sat down together
âi know,â you continued, resting your head on his shoulder, âeveryone wants something from you. but i want you to be you. not the âjapan golden boy,â just⌠be youâ
sae relaxed at your words, letting down his guard. your hand found his, fingers lacing together, and the ocean waves becoming a little lullaby for you bothÂ
âme gusta cĂłmo te ves esta nocheâ, he murmured, searching for your gaze
âoooo, spanish,â you teased, tilting your head to look up at him
âeres... como un sueĂąoâ, he said, his voice softening as he saw your bright smileÂ
the night continued with the both of you laughing over silly jokes and guessing what sae was speaking in spanish. you got up, changing the song to something more slow before pulling him up with youÂ
âwhat are we doing?â, sae asks, curiously watching youÂ
âyouâll seeâÂ
you took his hands in yours, and as the song played, the two of you began to slow dance. the ocean seemed to quiet down, as if wanting you both to take the spotlight and the moonâs light giving the perfect photo moment
âlana del rey?â sae asked, recognizing the artist of the song
âthe one and only,â you replied, resting your hand gently on his neck
at that moment, the world seemed to pause. sae leaned closer, his warm breath fanning your already flushed face. the smell of his cologne making you enter a new world, his words falling out like music, as if you understoodÂ
âsometimes itâs better to not know all the wordsâ, sae said softly, his eyes locked on yoursÂ
âalright, prodigyâ, you giggled. âyou still sound hotâÂ
his gaze flickered to your lips before he leaned in even closer. his lips ghosting yours, teasing you to take the bait. the bait he had set up all along afterall, everything goes with his plan, no matter whatÂ
âmi vida⌠may i?âÂ
you nod, feeling his lips finally meet yours, the faint taste of wine still lingering on them. the kiss begins softly, slow and teasing, just as before. sae liked taking his time, he wanted to build up the moment with you but even he could lose his patience once in a whileÂ
the pent up desire took the best of him. with a quiet murmur, he pulled back from the kiss, his breath warm against your skin before gently guiding you toward the sofa. you follow the pull of his touch, your back sinking into the softness of the velvet cushions
he hovers above you, his finger moving to unbutton his shirt a little bit before leaning down. his lips finds your neck, kissing you slow and deliberately, the heat radiating from his touches gave you goosebumpsÂ
âyouâll get the rest laterâ, he mumbles before crashing his lips back to yours Â
Š saioratral 2024-25 -- do not repost, translate, alter, etc on any platform without permission. Any characters used in my work do not belong to me, they are created by their original creator. all images used are from pinterest
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#bllk#sae itoshi x reader#sae itoshi x you#sae x reader#itoshi sae#itoshi sae x reader#sae#sae blk#sae itoshi#blue lock season 2#ᥣsaioratralâËŕ§â¤â
255 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Evergreen | Chapter One: Denial
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Tommy encourages Joel to join bereavement group counseling, where he meets you. You connect over a similar loss and the common thread of loneliness, leading to something unexpected for you both.
Chapter Warnings: grief, angst, mentions of OC deaths, mild references to: suicide, self harm, drug use (none by reader or Joel), language, panic/anxiety attack (Joel), Joel POV
WC: 8.8K
A/N: I've been working on this goddamn series since May. Sorry it's taken me so long to get around to it but I am committing to a posting schedule now that it is almost complete and I appreciate you all for being so patient. Hope you enjoy tons of fluff and softness and angst.
Series Masterlist
Joel's hands gripped the steering wheel as he stared blankly at the faded brick building connected to the small, run down parking lot. He watched as the clock ticked down to six in the evening, and with each passing minute a new car parked nearby or someone walked through the double doors. He wasn't sure what he expected, but he was surprised to see people of all ages streaming inside.
Then he saw a young woman with two children, one in each hand, neither of which could have been over seven years old, walk inside with watery eyes and he dropped his gaze to his lap in shame.
Mia had been gone for nearly ten years. He had no business being there. His grief wasn't fresh. Over the years, he's learned to cope with it, to live alongside it. The people who were there that night needed the support.
Joel didn't need support. He was just lonely.
He reached for his key, still dangling in the ignition, when his phone rang. With a sigh, he patted down the front of his jeans until he located his phone, then lifted his hips off the worn seat with a grunt so he could fish it out.
"Yeah?"
"You better not be thinkin' 'bout leavin'."
Joel swiveled around in alarm, searching the parking lot for his brother's truck, but all he saw were the last few stragglers hurriedly walking up to the front doors, the anguish practically weighing them down as they moved.
"You watchin' me now?"
Tommy chuckled on the other end.
"Nah, I'm at home. I just know you."
Joel rolled his eyes as the clock ticked to 6:01 on the dash.
"This is stupid, Tommy."
"It ain't stupid. It's been almost ten years and you've never looked twice at another woman. You can tell me you've moved on or that you're fine, but I'm not buying your bullshit," Tommy said sternly on the other end. "I don't think you ever gave yourself a chance to process what happened and it's important you do that. For your mental health and all that."
"Maria tell you to say that?" Joel scoffed, but still unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.
"Maybe. Don't matter who said it, it's true."
"Fine. I'm walkin' in now, I'll call you later," Joel said, then hung up without waiting for a reply.
The building wasn't very big. From the lobby, Joel could hear a male's voice making what sounded like brief introductions as he strolled quickly down the hall. He rested his hand on the push bar and took a deep breath. Right as he was about to enter, he heard someone else's light footsteps jogging up behind him. He turned around as you approached, a little breathless and with a guilty smile.
"Oh, good, I'm not the only one who's late," you said, nodding towards the door.
"Uh, yeah," Joel said, clearing his throat softly, "we can share the heat," he joked, opening the door and stepping aside so you could walk through first. You shot him a grateful look and mouthed thank you before entering the room.
The group all turned their heads at the disruption, as expected, but the counselor waved them in with a warm smile.
"Welcome! Have a seat, we were just getting started."
Joel found the first empty chair he could, in the very last row closest to the door. You glanced around the room before sliding into the same row as him, just a few seats down.
"As I was saying, welcome to the grief and loss support group. I'm Dr. Harris, but please feel free to call me Ryan."
Ryan was young. Definitely under forty. Something about that irked Joel. He imagined this man going to school to learn how to be caring, how to listen and say all the right words at the right time so he could make a decent paycheck and call himself doctor while he went home to his wife and picket fence and his patients went home with a gaping hole in their hearts.
"There is no wrong way to grieve," Ryan was saying from the podium with a practiced look of solemnity. "All of you are here for different reasons. And while you may look around here and think nobody else could possibly understand what you are feeling, I am here to tell you that you are simply wrong." Ryan took a moment to let his words settle over the group before continuing. "We have all lost somebody in our lives. That is the common thread that weaves us all together. And I'm here to tell you to use it." Ryan clenched his fists for emphasis and Joel had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Lean on each other. Listen to one another. This is a safe space. Nobody will judge you here, no matter what you may think, everybody in this room is here for the same reason."
After what felt like an eternity, Ryan invited the people in the room to approach the podium to speak, no longer than ten minutes, he had said, reminding everyone that their time was limited and they always could speak again at the next meeting.
One by one, people trickled up to the front of the room. First it was an elderly woman who explained with tears in her eyes that her husband of forty years passed away a month ago.
"It sounds silly," she sniffled, "but it feels like I'm... untethered. Like I lost my connection to this world when he left and I'm scared I might just... float away."
Next was a man around Joel's age who visibly struggled to hold back his tears about his late sister.
"I just keep reminding myself I didn't cause it, I can't control it, can't undo it. I'm really mad at myself for not paying attention to the warning signs. She was struggling, y'know?" His glassy eyes addressed the group briefly before he cast his gaze back down. "The best thing I can do is try to rebuild. Don't let the anguish fester. Don't let it consume me. Because she wouldn't want that."
After that, a girl no older than twenty, arms and neck covered in tattoos walked to the front. "She was my best friend since we were eight. And I know it's my fault, I know it is," she choked out, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I gave her her first hit. I could see she was falling too deep into it and I didn't try to help her, I was too focused on my own shit and not seeing what was right in front of me. To this day, I can't look her mom in the eye-" the girl hung her head and took a moment to gather herself. Chairs squeaked as the group patiently waited for her to continue. "But I'm clean and sober almost six months now," she said with a watery smile. A small round of applause broke out amongst the group and she nodded her thanks. "I'm thinking about going to school for social work. Maybe I can honor her memory in some way."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw you cross and uncross your legs nervously but made no move to walk to the front.
Same as him.
When the clock on the wall ticked closer to seven, Ryan addressed the group one final time.
"I'll stick around in case anybody wants to have a talk after group. Just a reminder that I'm only here once a week, but my esteemed colleague, Grace, runs another group on Tuesdays, so please feel free to stop by one or both. I also left some cards in the back next to the coffee. My information is on there if you would like a one on one appointment and on the back is the crisis hotline. Please take one, you never know when you may need it."
The room collectively seemed to stand, a murmur rippling through the group as people began to softly speak again, reaching out to neighbors, either introducing themselves or catching up from the last session. Joel scratched at his chin and looked around the room as people continued to filter around. Some paired off to grab coffee, some went to talk to Ryan, but Joel just stood there. All alone.
He took a deep breath and headed for the back, then lingered at the small stack of business cards Ryan had mentioned. He picked one up and flipped it over, studying it, when he heard a soft voice behind him.
"Excuse me," you said, and he swiveled around in surprise.
"Oh, sorry," he replied, stepping to the side so you could reach the coffee. He pretended to look at the card but watched as you filled up a cup. He waited for you to add cream or sugar but you didn't. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a tentative sip before recoiling at the heat and doing it again.
"That, uh, any good?"
Your eyes locked onto his and you shrugged. "'Bout what you'd expect."
He smiled and looked around the room, fidgeting with the edge of the card before sliding it into his pocket. "This your first session, too?"
You shook your head and stepped aside, a little closer to him, so others could get to the coffee. "I've been coming here almost two months."
That surprised Joel. Based on the way the rest of the group seemed familiar with each other, he had suspected the two of you were both new.
"Two months? Wow," Joel said, "how's it workin' out for you, if you don't mind my askin'?"
You sighed and gave him a little smile.
"Some days are better than others. But I figure it doesn't hurt, so..." you trailed off and crossed your arms, your fingertips tapping against the paper cup. "My mom begged me to come, so I did. I think it makes her believe she's helping in some way by pushing it and I grew tired of feeling like an emotional burden."
Joel frowned. "I'm sure that ain't true. No parent thinks their kid is an emotional burden."
You chuckled and drained the rest of your cup. "You'd be surprised." You tossed the cup into the trash before giving him a brighter smile. Although expressing your emotions was the entire reason you were there, you still felt uncomfortable doing it. "So this was your first time? What did you think?"
"Jury's still out," Joel replied honestly. "Promised my brother I would give it a try, same as you. My daughter just went off to college last month and I think he and his wife are worried 'bout me bein' all alone for the first time in, well... forever, I suppose." His lips pursed in thought for a moment. "Feels kinda like I don't belong here. My wife passed almost ten years ago. I've learned to live with it by now. It ain't as raw as all that-" he gestured up to the podium, referencing all the individuals who poured their hearts out for the past hour. Then he realized he was rambling and chuckled. "Sorry. Can't seem to shut up." He looked at you sheepishly and you smiled back.
"That's good. That's what you're supposed to do here," you assured him, then took a deep breath. "I lost my fiancĂŠ a year ago, so I can relate... kind of."
"I'm sorry," he said, furrowing his brow and examining your face. "You're so young, you shouldn't know what that feels like at your age."
"Not that young. I'm thirty-one," you joked. He laughed and rubbed his chin.
"Well I got twenty years on you, seems pretty young to me."
"You're fifty-one?" you asked, and he nodded. "You look good, I wouldn't have guessed a day over..." you trailed off as you studied his face and he grinned.
"Go ahead, be honest."
"Forty-three," you decided, and Joel laughed. When was the last time he felt this lighthearted?
"Well that's the nicest thing I've heard all week," he replied. The room began to thin out and you shifted your weight.
"Well, I guess I should get going," you told him, almost sounding regretful. Then you pinched your eyebrows together. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"Joel," he said, sticking an arm out to shake your hand. You gave him a warm smile before telling him your name, your hand getting dwarfed by his thick, rough fingers.
"Will I see you next week, Joel?"
"Yeah," he replied, walking out with you and holding open the door. "I'll give it another chance."
"Good. I mean, you know, I'm glad you're giving it another chance," you found yourself inexplicably stumbling over your words and before your face began to heat up you veered off towards your car with a quick wave.
Joel's eyes trailed after you for a minute before he opened the door to his truck and climbed inside. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against his lower lip, lost in thought while he stared straight ahead at the emptying parking lot. Then you drove by in a higher end white SUV and he watched as you took a right turn out of the lot and disappeared down the road. He sighed and started his truck, realizing he was one of the last cars in the lot, and decided to stop at a fast food drive thru on the way home.
"Uncle Tommy told me you went to a grief support group the other day, how did it go?" Sarah asked him over FaceTime. He pushed the lever on his recliner and leaned back into the chair with a grunt.
"S'alright," he mumbled.
"Did you share anything?"
"No."
"Well, why not?"
"'Cause, baby girl, these people just lost someone close to 'em. I can't get up there and talk 'bout your mama, it's been so long-"
"That doesn't matter," she said, interrupting him. He could hear other kids in the background laughing but she remained focused on her screen. "I don't think you've ever really processed Mom's death and it's important to me that you try. I worry about you, old man," she teased, and Joel grinned.
"No need to worry 'bout me, I'm stayin' busy."
"Yeah, doing what? And don't tell me you're eating frozen meals and watching baseball because it'll break my heart."
Joel's eyes drifted to the empty plastic tray on the coffee table.
"No," he said gruffly. "Ain't baseball season. I'm watchin' basketball."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Dad," she whined, "what about your friends? The guys from work?"
He didn't have the heart to tell her they were busy with their families, with their wives, so he lied.
"Yeah, I'm gonna get together with Jimmy later this week. Gonna shoot some pool."
"That sounds great!" Sarah exclaimed, her face instantly brightening. Her eyes snapped up to someone behind her phone and she grinned, holding up one finger, then looked back at him. "Listen, Dad, I gotta run. I promised a few friends I would go to the football game with them."
"Oh, so you'll watch football with your friends and not me?" he teased, and she giggled. "Alright then, text me when you get back home safe."
"I will. I love you."
No matter how many times he heard it, those words always warmed his heart.
"Love you too, baby girl."
The call ended and he set his phone down with a sigh. Sarah was right. He couldn't waste away in his house all alone, waiting for her to come home to visit or for Tommy and Maria to come by for dinner. He needed to get a hobby. He glanced outside then looked at the time before turning off the television and pushing himself out of his recliner with a groan. He shuffled down the hall to his bedroom to change out of his old sweatpants and ratty tshirt, then snatched his keys off the kitchen counter and headed out to the driveway.
He drove aimlessly through town, his window down with his arm hanging out, soaking up the sun's rays. Kids were playing on the sidewalks and people were walking their dogs or pushing strollers. Everyone just seemed so... happy. Content.
Maybe he should get a dog.
Maybe he should start with a fish, first.
He jumped on the highway and cruised with one hand on the steering wheel. Hank Williams crooned from the radio and Joel took a deep, relaxing breath. He was coming up on the exit for the mall. Sarah loved dragging him to the mall. A smile played on his lips and he figured why not.
He veered off the highway and slowed when he approached the red light, the mall parking lot straight ahead. It didn't look terribly busy. With the weather as nice as it was, he imagined most people would be spending their time outside.
Joel found a good spot right out front. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets and walked inside through the Macy's. A blast of freezing cold air conditioning hit him like a ton of bricks, cooling the sweat that was collecting on the back of his neck. He managed to make his way through the maze of the department store and entered the mall itself. There were a few groups of girls around Sarah's age giggling and carrying shopping bags and the random couple here or there walking into William Sonoma or Brookstone.
When he passed by the food court, he saw a few solitary older men sipping coffee and reading the paper or people watching. Joel huffed under his breath, wondering who on earth would come to the mall just to read a paper until he realized he was no better.
Was he going to become just like them one day? Would he come to the mall to nurse a coffee just so he wouldn't feel so alone? The thought had his throat closing up.
He paused and leaned against a railing overlooking the bottom floor of the mall, pretending to be looking for someone when in reality he was struggling to breathe. His heart was fluttering too fast in his chest and his vision was narrowing.
"Shit," he whispered to himself, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus on taking deep breaths. It was like reality crashed down around him all at once: Sarah was moved out of the house. Tommy was happily married. And Joel was going to die all alone.
He gasped and blinked, trying to clear his head and mentally talk himself down, but it was no use. He leaned forward a bit to rest his forehead on the cool, stainless steel railing but his knees began to buckle. Just when he thought he would need to stop someone and beg them to call an ambulance, he heard someone say his name, temporarily snapping him out of his daze.
"Are you okay?" you asked, the smile slipping from your face when you noticed how flush he looked. He could only manage to shake his head. Without hesitating, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him stand, then glanced around. Spotting an empty bench, you led him over and helped him sit. You rubbed your palm over his upper back soothingly and sat next to him, reminding him to breathe deeply until his vision cleared and he felt his strength return.
"Christ," he mumbled. He sat up and leaned back so the back of his head rested on the bench and stretched his long legs out. "Thank you," he added, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
"No problem," you said, "is everything okay?"
"Yeah. Or, no. I don't know," he sighed, dropping his hand from his face. "I think it just hit me all at once."
You slid over on the bench to give him more room. "What hit you all at once?"
"That my little girl is growin' up and -" he stopped himself, the words and I'm all alone getting trapped in his throat. "And I just miss her, is all."
You slowly nodded and glanced around the mall. "What does she like?"
He smiled. "Clothes. Music. Makeup. Books."
"What kind of books?"
"The fantasy kind. Y'know, like Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter."
A huge grin spread across your face. "Follow me, I have an idea," you said, standing up and looking down at him before you realized you might have overstepped. "I mean, unless you're-"
"No, let's go," he replied, standing up and stretching out an arm for you to lead the way. He fell in step next to you as you led him down towards the other end of the mall and after a few minutes, he realized where you were leading him.
"The bookstore?"
"Yep," you said cheerily, shooting him a playful grin. "Trust me."
And he did.
"There's some really incredible series out there right now. Why don't we pick one out, you can read it and share it with her so you guys have something to do together from a distance? Do you know if she's read The Word of the Heir? That's by an incredibly talented author who actually got the idea when she was only seven years old," you told him excitedly, leading him deep into the bookstore, dodging tables and displays until you made it to the fantasy section. Joel slowed down and looked around, his panic attack slipping further and further from his mind.
"Uh, I ain't sure," he replied as you held up the book. You tucked it under your arm and began to look again.
"How about Empire of Kings? I haven't read that one but the author is relatively new and I've heard he's an extremely talented storyteller."
Joel shrugged, again unsure what Sarah may or may not have read. All of the titles sounded so foreign to him until his eyes landed on the spine of a thick, hardcover book.
"Oh, this one sounds familiar," he said, plucking it from the shelf. "The Crimson Stone. I think she wanted to read this but I don't think she ever finished it. It's a series-"
"Yeah, I know that one," you told him quietly. He glanced down at the book again and read the author's name.
"Daniel Davis, ain't this the guy who died in that bad wreck downtown?" Joel mumbled as he flipped the book over in his hands to read the back. You nodded. "Maybe I'll get this one."
"Don't waste your money, I can give it to you for free," you said, gently taking it from his hands. You ran your palm distractedly over the cover before flipping it open and looking at the tiny black and white photo of the author on the inside jacket. "This was my fiancĂŠ," you added, your voice thick. Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"Shit," he mumbled. "I-I'm sorry, his name just sounded familiar, I remember it from the paper..." he trailed off, floundering for what to say to comfort you. Why couldn't he fucking think?
"It's okay," you told him, waving him off, but the guilt still laid heavy in his chest. "There's no way you would have known." You slowly closed the book, giving the picture one more glance, and handed it back to him. "But really, if you want to read them I have tons of copies just sitting around. He had a few other books outside of this series, as well, if you guys wanted them."
Joel's eyebrows knit together. "I don't wanna take your books. They gotta have sentimental value or somethin'."
"No, seriously, I have boxes of them just sitting there. He was in the middle of signing copies for readings he was supposed to do before-" you stopped yourself and cleared your throat. "Anyway. I can bring them to group next week or you can come by the house and look through them yourself if you like."
Joel nodded and nervously chewed the inside of his cheek. "Do you wanna talk 'bout it?"
You looked up at him then, all wide eyed and filled with so much sadness that it made his chest ache. No one so young and pretty should have to go through so much pain. Your eyes drifted over his face for a moment, quietly studying him before responding. "Yeah. I kind of do."
Joel looked over his shoulder and spotted the cafĂŠ across from the bookstore. "You wanna get a coffee and find a quiet bench or somethin'?"
"That sounds nice," you replied, so he put the books back on the shelf and walked out into the mall. He spotted a bench near an empty storefront and he told you to go have a seat with the promise of bringing you back something to drink. There wasn't a line at the counter. He couldn't imagine many people wanted coffee that late in the day, so it only took a few minutes before the barista slid the two cups of black coffee across the counter and he met you back at the bench.
"Black, right?"
You smiled and gingerly took the cup. "Yeah, how did you know?"
"From group the other day," he replied, then sat down with a grunt. You sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, each of you letting your coffees cool before you spoke.
"I usually don't talk about it. Every week I tell myself I'm gonna go up to that podium and pour my heart out and every week I chicken out."
Joel didn't say a word. He learned early on with Sarah when she was upset, she just wanted someone to listen to her. So that's exactly what he did. He sipped his coffee and just listened. And before you even realized it, you were telling him everything.
You began by telling him Daniel was from Austin but you met in Portland, where you grew up. For a while, the two of you tried doing a long-distance relationship, but once you were finished with school you took him up on the offer to move in with him in Texas. Shortly thereafter, he proposed and you had spent the last year of his life planning your dream wedding. The night of the accident, you had been touring a venue an hour outside the city. It was dark when you finished up and drove back home.
Daniel didn't do anything wrong. You insisted Joel knew that first.
A truck driver had fallen asleep at the wheel and ran a light, completely crushing the driver's side and killing Daniel instantly. Somehow, you had only come out of the accident with a small concussion and a badly bruised chest from the seatbelt.
"Jesus," Joel muttered when you exhaled a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, darlin'. That's some fucked up shit." His eyes widened and he straightened up in his seat. "Shit, sorry for cursin'... twice." He scratched the back of his head uncomfortably and a slow smile spread across your face. He nearly jumped out of his skin when you burst out laughing.
"Thank you," you said in between giggles. He grinned, confused but happy you were laughing and not crying. "I needed that. And you're right, it was some fucked up shit."
Joel chuckled and took a sip from his coffee. He heard his phone ring so he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen before silencing the call and putting his phone away.
"You can take it," you said, wiping a stray tear from your eye and jutting your chin towards his phone.
"Just my brother. I'll call him back later."
"Ah, the infamous brother that made you go to group?"
"The very same."
"Younger or older?"
"Younger, but the way he bosses me 'round you'd never know it," Joel said with a grin.
"He's probably just looking out for you."
"He knows I'm feelin' especially lonely without Sarah. Sarah's my daughter, by the way," he said, pulling his phone out and showing you his lock screen: it was a selfie of him and Sarah on the beach, Joel looked red as a lobster and Sarah's hair looked tangled from the wind but there was no denying the happiness in both their eyes.
"She's beautiful," you said warmly. He smiled and put his phone away.
"Got that from her mama."
"I don't know, I see a little bit of you in her smile," you teased, bumping up against his shoulder playfully. He rolled his eyes but didn't argue.
"What I'm tryin' to say is, I can relate a bit to what you're goin' through. Y'know, losin' a partner and feelin' like you got no one left," he said. You took a deep breath.
"Yeah, sounds like you do."
Joel nervously picked at his jeans, trying to figure out the right way to say what he wanted to say without sounding like an old creep, but before he could open his mouth, you spoke first.
"Maybe we can hang out together and keep each other company?" you offered. He turned his head and grinned.
"I was 'bout to suggest the same thing."
"Really?" you asked, looking as relieved as he felt. He nodded.
"Sounds like we both could use a friend."
Something in your expression shifted. It was too quick. He couldn't pinpoint it but whatever it was disappeared, leaving behind a genuine smile.
"I would really like that, Joel."
"What the hell? You couldn't call me back yesterday?" Tommy scolded when he marched into the small, messy office the following morning. Joel glanced up from behind his desk; papers, a calculator and a pencil scattered about in front of him. He took his reading glasses off with a sigh, abandoning his work. He hated doing the administrative part of his job. He always preferred to be on site or meeting with clients.
"I was busy."
"Busy?" Tommy repeated before collapsing in the worn out chair across from him.
"Yeah, busy. I was... with a friend," Joel mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant but Tommy's ears perked up.
"A friend? Who?"
Joel shrugged. "Someone I met at that group you made me go to."
Tommy's eyes lit up. "Hey, that's great. See? I knew it'd be good for you. What's his name?"
Joel pursed his lips before softly saying your name and Tommy raised an eyebrow.
"A woman? That's even better, Joel."
"It ain't like that-"
"'Course not," Tommy said, "I'm just sayin' it's a step in the right direction."
"She's too young," Joel said defensively, giving Tommy pause.
"Okay..."
"We're just friends. She ain't from 'round here, ain't got anyone in Texas."
Tommy frowned as he watched Joel shift uncomfortably in his chair, wondering what made his brother get so sensitive, so he chose to tread lightly.
"So you're keepin' each other company. That's nice."
"Yeah," Joel said, standing up with a grunt and rubbing his lower back before he snatched his coat from the wall. "Ready to go?"
"Sure," Tommy said, standing to follow Joel out of the office. While he locked the door behind him, Tommy couldn't help but ask, "How young is too young?"
"Thirty-one," Joel replied, fishing the keys out of his pocket.
Tommy shrugged, falling in step next to his brother as they walked towards the parking lot. "Sounds like an adult to me," he muttered, but Joel chose to ignore it. "When are you seein' her again?"
"End of the week," Joel replied before climbing into the truck.
"Friday?"
"Yeah, after work. We were gonna order some dinner and look through some books she's tryin' to get rid of."
The corner of Tommy's mouth twitched. "So, like a date?"
"It ain't a date," Joel said firmly, his jaw set as he pulled out of the parking lot and began to drive in the direction of the first worksite. "She's mourin' the loss of her husband, it's not a date."
"Husband?" Tommy repeated, then Joel shook his head, growing flustered.
"FiancĂŠ. Not husband."
"When did he pass?"
Joel thought back to what you told him the night you first met. "A year ago."
Tommy hummed and looked out the window, tapping his fingers against the car door in rhythm with the beat from the radio. Joel side eyed him while they sat in silence for a few minutes before he rolled his eyes and sighed. "What?" Joel asked with an edge to his voice.
"A year's a long time, is all."
"She's in grief therapy, Tommy. She's in pain and tryin' to come to terms with it. Quit makin' it sound like somethin' it ain't."
"Just 'cause she's in grief therapy don't mean she ain't ready to move on-"
"Goddamnit, this is the last time I tell you anythin'," Joel grumbled as he made a left hand turn. Tommy hid a smile behind his hand and looked out the window.
"Alright, no need to get all defensive on me now."
Joel opened his mouth to argue but quickly snapped it shut. The more he pushed back just gave Tommy more ammunition. Besides, he knew the truth. You were looking for a friend, someone who could relate to what you were going through. There was absolutely no way you were interested in a man twenty years older than you. The thought was so absurd it almost made him laugh. You were young and beautiful and charming and you had your whole life ahead of you.
No, surely Tommy was wrong.
When Joel pulled up to your house, his eight year old truck the noisiest thing on the whole block, he let out a low whistle and threw it into park, deciding at the last second to keep his car on the street for fear of leaving an oil stain or something on your pristine concrete driveway. He sat in his truck for a moment, taking in the monumental Victorian house before him. He recognized it from his youth, but back then the siding was chipped and the windows were foggy, in desperate need of replacing. He always admired houses like yours and part of his heart broke whenever he saw one fall into such a state of disrepair that it was beyond saving, but not yours. No, at some point in the past ten years, the house was upgraded but managed to maintain the original charm.
There was fresh siding and new windows installed, the insides framed in what looked like delicate lace curtains, complimenting the style of the house. The roof looked like it had been replaced and the front door looked new, but the original architecture remained. He could easily tell whoever bought the house took great care with it, and the contractor in him breathed a sigh of relief that it didn't fall into the wrong hands, or god forbid, a flipper.
When he walked up your driveway towards the small stone path that led to your front door, he slowed to look at the garden that flourished in front of the wraparound porch. It was a beautiful mix of wildflowers and hedges, and while wildflowers had a tendency to look messy and unkept, you somehow managed to make it look neat and well put together. Fat, fuzzy bumblebees bounced drunkenly from flower to flower and as he climbed the wooden steps, a hummingbird buzzed past his ear, spooked by his presence.
He pressed the button to your doorbell, noting you chose not to install one of those camera doorbells and for some reason, that bothered him. Normally he wasn't a huge fan of technology, but you were all alone in this big house. You needed to be safe, to be careful. Your house was in a nice neighborhood, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.
The door swung open and you greeted him barefoot with a warm smile before stepping aside to let him in. You were wearing a loose tshirt that hung off one shoulder and he chastised himself when his eyes traveled down your tight fitting jeans to your ass as he followed you into your home.
He shrugged his reaction off to just typical male instinct and forced his focus onto the lovely foyer surrounding him as he slid off his boots. Polished cherry wainscoting lined the walls and his eyes widened when he noticed the small tiles in the shape of little octagons below his feet.
"Is this original?" he asked you in disbelief as he pointed to the ground. Your gaze followed his finger and you nodded.
"We tried to keep everything original, if we could," you explained.
"Wow," he breathed as he stepped forward into the hallway, his eyes unable to keep up with how fast his brain was operating. His gaze slid over the original hardwood floors of the hallway, fresh wallpaper, and wide, polished staircase with a plush carpet installed in the center of the steps. Much to his delight, you chose to furnish the house to match the style, as well. Antique fixtures hung from the ceiling and a real wood table was pushed against the wall. A small lamp sat on top with a stained glass Tiffany shade, and next to it was a pile of mail and a framed photograph he tried not to examine too closely out of respect.
"This way," you said over your shoulder, and he followed you blindly deeper into the house. You pushed open a swinging door that led into your kitchen, and for the first time since arriving, his nose was the first of his senses to respond instead of his eyes.
It smelled absolutely heavenly. He had no idea what you were cooking but his mouth instantly watered at the smell of garlic and salt and some kind of meat.
He swallowed and hoped his stomach wouldn't growl and embarrass him.
"Thought we were gonna order somethin'?" he asked as he watched you hurry over to the stove to stir something.
"Oh, I hope you don't mind, but I felt like cooking," you replied without looking. He glanced around the room, noticing you chose to update the counters and cabinets to look more modern, but kept the original flooring.
"Mind? Are you kiddin' me? Haven't had anythin' decent to eat since Sarah left for college."
Memories of fast food drive thrus and frozen dinners flashed before his eyes as he watched you turn off the burners on the stove. You opened a cupboard and stretched on your tiptoes to reach a bowl, the hem of your shirt riding up ever so slightly and revealing a small sliver of skin on your back and suddenly, his mouth was watering for an entirely different reason.
Stop it.
"Need some help?" he offered, and you fell back onto the flats of your feet, shooting him a nod and smile. He didn't mean to, but he reached up from behind you for the serving bowl, his front brushing gently against your back, and your shoulders tensed. Shit.
"Sorry, here ya go," he said, handing you the bowl and immediately giving you some space, not catching the glimmer of disappointment in your eyes.
"Thank you," you murmured shyly. He watched you spoon vegetables into the bowl for a moment, grabbing random jars of seasoning and sprinkling them on top before stirring it up, and he finally remembered his manners.
"Can I help?"
"No, no, I got it," you insisted, waving him toward a door on the other side of the kitchen. "Go sit down, I'll be right out."
He wandered over to the propped open door and entered your dining room. Pausing for a moment, he admired the chandelier above the table that looked old but the brass had been polished and the crystals cleaned. The drop ceiling was even remarkable: squares of textured patterns that repeated across the whole room, adding a whole other layer of elegance to the already impressive first floor. His eyes drifted to the dark wood table, where two spots were already set across from each other. He pulled out a chair and sat down, shifting his weight a bit and noting the chairs must have been recently reupholstered based on how firm the cushion was underneath him. You breezed in after him, hardly giving him enough time to take in the elaborate fireplace and mantle at the end of the room, and began to set down plates of food. His eyes bugged out of his head when he saw fresh, fried chicken and whipped mashed potatoes.
"You didn't have to go through all the trouble," he assured you, but you smirked at the way he stared at the chicken, the aroma from the breading overpowering his senses.
"It wasn't any trouble, I like to cook," you replied, disappearing into the kitchen to grab the vegetables and a basket of fresh rolls before finally joining him at the table.
Joel spread the cloth napkin over his lap, using every ounce of self control to stop himself from devouring everything in sight. He glanced up at you and you grinned.
"Go ahead, help yourself."
You watched with a small smile on your face as he loaded up his plate, then played with your own food until he took his first bite of chicken. He froze, his mouth full, and stared at you in awe before he dropped the chicken leg on his plate and leaned back, a deep, appreciative moan rumbling from his chest, making your thighs squeeze together under the table.
"Goddamn," he said once he swallowed. "That's the best fried chicken I've ever had in my entire life, darlin'."
You giggled and finally took a dainty bite of your own before nodding in agreement. "It's not bad."
Joel scoffed and took another bite. "Don't sell yourself short, now. I know what I'm talkin' 'bout. What'd you put in this?"
He listened, completely enraptured, as you explained how you soaked the chicken in buttermilk the day before and all of the seasonings you used in the breading.
"Oh! I almost forgot the lemonade," you said, standing back up and rushing into the kitchen, returning with two cold glasses and setting them down on the placemats. He nodded his thanks, mouth still full, and you giggled again.
You were already planning on packing up all the leftovers so he could take it home, but you still encouraged him to have as much as he wanted while it was warm and fresh.
"Did you make the rolls, too?" he asked after he took a bite.
You laughed and shook your head. "No, I'm not that good. I bought them this morning from a local bakery I like around the corner."
You had finished your meal long before he did, watching with your chin in your palm as he went back for seconds, reveling in the noises and compliments he made with practically each bite.
"Here, have some more," you told him, nudging the plate of chicken in his direction, but he leaned back in the chair and shook his head. "I can't, but everythin' was delicious. Thank you."
"You're welcome. I'm thrilled to cook for someone again," you replied with a sad smile before standing up and picking up your plate. He immediately stood and began to collect the rest, but you waved him back down.
"Sit, sit, I still have dessert," you told him, and based on the way he looked at you in that moment you would have put money down that he could be knocked over with a feather.
"Oh, darlin', you did too much," he replied, immediately flooding with guilt that he didn't even bring wine or flowers.
"Stop! I told you, I like doing it and I never get a chance to anymore, so please, sit down and I'll be right back."
Begrudgingly, he did as he was told and, while listening to you in the kitchen, peered out the back window at the meticulously kept grounds. Your house, like you, was absolutely beautiful. It felt like stumbling across an oasis in the middle of the desert.
You reappeared in the dining room with a bowl of diced, sugared strawberries and a plate of warm biscuits. He watched in stunned silence as you fixed him a plate, spooning the strawberries on top of a fresh shortcake, but told him to wait a moment before hurrying back into the kitchen and returning with a small bowl of homemade whipped cream.
Joel thought he died and went to heaven.
He could tell you didn't want to hear him complain that it was too much, so instead he lavished your baking with praise and thanks, both of which seemed to make your eyes shine bright and your lips remain curled into a smile the whole time.
"You're taking the leftovers home, too," you warned him once you finally allowed him to help bring things back into the kitchen. You were packing everything up nice and neat in matching Tupperware containers and stacking everything into a paper bag. As much as he wanted to decline, he really wanted your leftovers more, so he continued to thank you as he began to wash the dishes in your farmhouse sink. You had tried to fight him on it, but he finally wore you down and won. Stubborn little thing, he thought.
After dinner was cleaned up, you led him back down the hall and up the wide staircase, explaining that the books were all housed in a den at the top of the stairs, but when you opened the door to the room, den seemed like too small a word for it.
It was gorgeous, plain and simple. The cherry wainscoting continued in this room with a dark green wallpaper to accent the wood. All along the wall were antique sconces lighting up floor to ceiling bookcases stuffed full of literature. On the back wall was a large, heavy looking desk with a wingback velvet chair. The desk itself had books and papers scattered about, as if someone were in the middle of something and was rudely interrupted, but based on the layer of dust, he had to imagine nobody had sat there in some time.
And then it hit him: this was your fiancĂŠ's office.
A laptop sat open and turned off on the corner of the desk, along with a dusty printer behind the chair on the carpeted floor. He noticed what had to have been manuscripts of some kind based on the lack of coverings on the bound papers piling up next to the printer.
He was an author. This is where he worked.
That was when Joel realized you had been suspiciously quiet. He turned towards you, his eyes scanning your face, studying it. Your arms were wrapped around your middle as you stared blankly at the desk.
"We don't gotta do this today," he said softly, snapping you out of your reverie.
"No, it's okay," you replied, your voice so small it nearly broke his heart. You turned and walked toward the corner of the room, opposite the desk, where a small couch and coffee table sat. A few cardboard boxes were stacked nearby, two of which remained unopened, one recklessly torn into. You started with that one.
"Here," you said, pulling out a few books and handing them out. He stepped forward and took them, looking down at the covers and the beautiful artwork that adorned them. "These are the first trilogy, you should probably read them first before the next. They're different stories but they inevitably weave together so it'll make more sense if you-" you paused, your voice getting caught in your throat, and that's when he realized you had been fighting back tears.
"Hey, it's okay," he told you gently, putting the books down on the coffee table and carefully touching your shoulder, urging you to sit on the couch. After a moment's hesitation, you did, and he sat beside you. "This was too fast. I'll leave these here and maybe one day, when you're feelin' up to it, we can try again."
You looked up at him, eyes watering, and shook your head.
"No, take these now. I have more, I have tons, actually," you said, nodding towards the unopened boxes. "I just haven't come in here since he died and I didn't think it would be this hard." You wiped furiously at your cheeks, trying to hide your anguish.
Joel's heart thundered in his chest. He rubbed your back, trying to offer you a glimmer of comfort while he glanced around the room. "Maybe it was too soon," he offered again.
"No, it's been a year, Joel. I needed to do this." You took a deep breath and gave him a shaky smile. "Thank you. I know this is probably more than you expected-"
"Nah, hey, none of that, now," he cooed, mindlessly petting your hair. "If you needed someone to be here for this, I'm glad you picked me, okay?"
You sniffled and nodded, quietly thanking him again before taking another deep breath and exhaling with a nervous laugh as you looked around the room with him.
"Can I ask you something?"
"'Course," he replied.
"How long did it take for you to move on after your wife passed?"
He chewed the inside of his cheek as he thought about it, his fingers still playing with the ends of your soft hair as he slowly rubbed your back. "Well, hard to say. She was sick for a long time so I think I had time to come to terms with it before she died, y'know?" You nodded and listened to him, hanging on his every word and inadvertently leaning into his gentle touch. "Then I had Sarah to worry 'bout and, I don't know, time just... passed me by." He chuckled dryly for a moment before continuing. "My brother thinks I never got over it, Sarah thinks I never processed it, but they only think that 'cause I never dated anyone else."
Your eyes widened in surprise at his confession.
"Never?"
He shook his head and gave you a lopsided grin. "Been busy, I guess."
"But aren't you... lonely?"
He sucked in a sharp breath and cast his gaze to the floor. How did you manage to see right through him so quickly? Was it the common ground or something else?
"Wasn't too bad til Sarah left," he admitted, "but now... yeah. Yeah, it's lonely."
You scanned his face, watching the flicker of sadness in his eyes he tried to hide from you, and you inched a bit closer.
"I'm glad we found each other, Joel," you whispered. His eyes found yours again and he smiled.
"Me, too, sweetheart."
Then, without giving it another thought, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his lips. It was so tender and soft it felt like he was on the bus in fifth grade and Christine Murphy was giving him his fist kiss all over again while kids in nearby seats teased them with sing-song voices.
You pulled back and looked into his eyes, searching for any hesitation but all you must have seen was confusion because you leaned forward again, kissing him with a little more emotion, your small hand coming up to cup his greying, prickly jaw. You tasted like strawberries and lemonade and you smelled like vanilla and it was making every neuron in his brain fire all at the same time, to the point where his body had no idea what to do but remain frozen.
It was when your tongue first slipped past your lips and flicked nervously over the seam of his mouth that he finally came crashing down to earth. He sat back, breaking the kiss and holding you by the shoulders, staring deeply into your eyes. You were both panting slightly, probably from the excitement and adrenaline, as he tried to figure out what to say, what to do. You were in a fragile state, he decided. You made a mistake, the moment got away from you both and it didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything. You were too young and sweet and beautiful. You didn't really want anything to do with an old man like him. He just happened to be there when you were vulnerable and that was all.
The words never came. He couldn't form a coherent sentence. As the seconds dragged on, your face began to fall and embarrassment flooded your chest, the atmosphere in the room suddenly so thick that it was difficult to breathe. You cleared your throat and leaned back, his hands falling from your shoulders, and then you were the first to speak.
"Oh, no."
Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates â¤ď¸
#joel miller fanfic#joel miller tlou#joel miller x reader#comfort Joel#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel the last of us#the last of us au#joel miller au#joel miller angst#Joel miller grief#the last of us angst#the last of us fanfiction#joel miller fanfiction#evergreen fic#Joel pov
394 notes
¡
View notes
Text
(pairing: jeonghan x f!reader)
missing my angel a little bit more today
âbabyyyyâ, you hear somewhere behind the couch in your boyfriendâs whiney voice. turning your head around, you see his tired face looking at you pleadingly, his silky black hair pushed back by his pink hello kitty hairband.
smiling gently at him, you question âyeah? what do you need baby?â.
his eyes blinking slowly at you, tiredness evidently in them, the black circles slightly visible even with the concealer under his eyes.
âcould you help me do my skincare? i amâŚso very exhausted, i canât even hold my arms up long enough to wash my face.â, and by the gentleness in his voice and his dropped shoulders, you know heâs telling the truth.
immediately getting up, instead of responding with your words, you hold your hand out for him to take it.
smiling small at you, he takes it.
you lead him to your bathroom before you point to the bathroom counter.
âsit.â
groaning, he responds âi canât jump up there right now, can i just sit on the toilet?â
smiling gently at him, you stretch on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek before responding âof course, whateverâs more comfortable for you.â
sitting down, jeonghan finally closes his eyes, waiting for you to start.
you start with micellar water to remove the rest of his makeup, being extremely gentle around the eyes area. then you move to oil cleansing, gently rubbing your fingers against his soft cheeks. after thoroughly washing the oil off, you move to the cleanser, just as a means to remove any excess oil left on his skin.
somewhere between you gently applying the toner and the moisturiser, jeonghanâs head starts to slide downwards, a tell that heâs slowly falling asleep.
kissing his lips gently to wake him up, you whisper âletâs brush our teeth and go to sleep.â
opening his eyes, he looks up at you with red eyes from exhaustion. blinking once, twice, he suddenly grabs your hips before he pulls you close, resting his head against your stomach, letting his arms wrap tightly around your waist.
whispering softly, he says âjust one more minuteâŚi havenât been able to spend this much time with you in weeksâŚi miss your warmth and hugs so muchâŚi miss my home..â, his slurred words tell you that he definitely isnât fully aware of the things heâs telling you, that he also isnât aware just how much the words affected you.
blinking your tears away, you softly push his hair back, scratching his scalp in the process as a way to comfort him. âokay. one more minute.â
after five more minutes of him hugging you and you two brushing your teeth, as you lay in your bed with him in your arms, his soft breath tickling your neck as he lays his head on your chest, thereâs only one thought going through your mind.
i missed my home too. so much.
#seventeen#svt#svt x reader#fypăˇ#tumblr fyp#fypage#fluff#jeonghan svt#jeonghan x you#jeonghan x reader#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan
232 notes
¡
View notes
Note
helllooo ! (first ask ever, actually, go me lol) I am requesting with your Winter Games :
đť here to hibernate - âoh god, did i fall asleep on you?!â from the sleepy list :)
with Regulus x reader? or Regulus x James if youâre looking for an actual ship like that :3
ily and I hope youâre doing well !! mwah
first ask ever, go you INDEED! thanks for the prompt, and for being here with me! <3
Regulus Black x Potter!reader who he falls asleep on [627 words]
CW: fem!reader, pranking, siblings, brief mention of Black family causing anxiety, fluff
Regulus had, admittedly, not been sleeping all that well leading up to the winter holidays.Â
For better or for worse, Sirius had convinced him to rip the plaster off and join him at the Potterâs, if not permanently, then at least for the Christmas break.Â
First, he hadnât been sleeping well due to the stress of having to potentially return home for the holidays, then he hadnât been sleeping well due to the stress of having to find some excuse that his parents would find believable to remain at school over the holidays, then he hadnât been sleeping well due to the stress of how his parents might react to the news of him attending the Potterâs for the holidays, then he hadnât been sleeping well due to the stress of having not gotten a response from them at all (the devil you know, and all that).
And finally, he hadnât been sleeping well due to the stress of now having to celebrate the holidays with the Potterâs. Pointedly, perhaps, with you.Â
So when he startled awake to the sound of the train compartment door closing - catching the tail end of his brother and his friends disappearing down the trainâs corridors - to find himself having fallen asleep on your shoulder of all places, he was more than a little bit mortified.Â
âOh Merlin, did I fall asleep on you!?â He asked as he slid to the very opposite side of the bench to put some clearly well needed space between the two of you.Â
âJust a little, itâs alright.â You offered with a shrug as you refused to look up from the book in your hand, though Regulus noted you take the opportunity to reposition to a more comfortable spot now that you wouldnât risk waking him up.Â
âMâso sorry.â He mumbled into his hands as he tried to wipe the residual lethargy from his face; an anxious, crackling energy bubbling from his chest to his fingertips. âIâve not been sleeping well; this is so embarrassing.â
âItâs not embarrassing,â you chuckled kindly, âyouâre obviously tired, weâve got a long train ride, might as well sleep, yeah?âÂ
You smiled gently, perhaps even shyly at him, before turning your face back to your book, though you didnât appear to actually be reading it.Â
âWhereâd our brotherâs go?â He asked after a few beats of silence; you looked up then, as if only now realising the compartment was empty.
âOh, erm. I think they wanted to pull one last prank of the year; wanted to go out with a-â
But the end of your sentence was cut off by a loud bang that shook the seats beneath you two, followed by some groaning, shrieking, and cackling.Â
You and Regulus shared a soft, breathy snicker of your own.Â
âYou didnât feel like joining them?â He queried, quite certain he wasnât mistaken when he noticed you flush.
âErm, no; I was quite alright here.â
Your brotherâs came crashing into the compartment then with Remus and Peter on their heels; breathless, laughing, and covered in a small dusting of red and green glitter.Â
âThat was a good one, Trouble.â Sirius proclaimed as he took a sloppy seat across from you. âCanât believe you opted to sit here like Reggieâs personal glorified pillow instead of seeing it through.â
âDonât tease her.â Remus chided quietly; likely quiet enough that you hadnât heard, but Regulus had.Â
âSo,â Regulus drawled then, sharing a conspiratorial look with you. âI have this to look forward to all break?âÂ
Sirius scoffed in offence. âYou should be so lucky, baby brother.âÂ
âDonât worry,â you murmured quietly, âleaves us plenty of time to make them pay.âÂ
Regulus couldnât help but wonder if - just maybe - holidayâs at the Potterâs wouldnât be so bad.
#elle's hibernating#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#regulus black#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#potter!reader#regulus black fic#regulus black ficlet#regulus black blurb#regulus black drabble#regulus black imagine#regulus black fluff#ellecdc fics
323 notes
¡
View notes
Note
So certainly one of the most minor manifestations of transmisogyny, but also one of the most prevalent ones ime is the fact that I am just not allowed to act like the cis women in my life.
If I actually express the same range of emotions as the cis women around, some of which are very easy to anger and bluntly outspoken if something is not to their liking (not critizing them), then my womanhood is called into question. It feels like my womanhood is conditional and constantly on thin ice. I need to be demure and soft spoken and emotionally open and must not express negativity ever.
Generally I need to behave like a freakin caricature of white feminity just to be allowed entry into womanhood and thus personhood. And I need to do it convincingly, authentically or I am accused of reinforcing stereotypes.
And if I point it out people act like I am the crazy one...
not minor at all!!! this is a massive massive part of how transmisogyny functions in general â if we canât complain about our experiences, nobody has to pay attention to them. we are constantly resting on a knifeâs edge â you wanna be a woman? prove it, endure being treated as less than a human. the catch is that if cis women compain, that doesnât âproveâ that they really are just âfaking.â
203 notes
¡
View notes
Text
i wish i were heather...
synopsis: you were under the impression that you were stable in your secret long-term relationship with three of the four marauders, until it becomes clear that you aren't the girl they want anymore. (so you think). will you lose them before its too late? or have you already?
pairings: fem!reader x poly!marauders ` poly!marauders x lily evans
warnings: NO LILY SLANDER!! SHE'S PERFECT AND BEAUTIFUL AND ITS NOT HER FAULT!!, cusswords, ANGST, depressing, a blip of reader skipping meals on the radar but it's srsly nothing crazy, insecure reader, the marauders besides peter are dicks, reader is a little naive, the marauders borderline cheat on you, no happy ending, there might still be one thoughhh, possibly slytherin!reader if you squint?,
part one in the conan gray series
A/N!!: In some of the fic i use colors to represent a certain character! Orange is Lily, Red is James, and Green is Barty :3
wc; 2.4k
LIFE WAS AMAZING, which is not usually how stories begin.
You felt so safe and secure in your secret relationship with Hogwarts' once most eligible bachelors... The Marauders.
The rush of excitement that coursed through your veins every time you shared a hidden glance with Remus, or hiding in the showers of the Gryffindor boys locker room with James after his quidditch victory, and sneaking off to empty classrooms where anyone from anywhere could catch you with Sirius.
It was heavenly, these boys were all you would ever need.
until... now.
You were in Remus' sweater, he said it looked better on you than it did him. If only he knew how much you liked him...
The fireplace erupted with a citrine glow, illuminating the Gryffindor common room beautifully.
Most impactfully, it lit up Remus' scar-kissed features.
His freckles looked as if they were painted onto his face with careful hands by a renaissance painter.
His eyes half-lidded from his lack of sleep from the incoming full moon that was slowly approaching, it pained you to know how much they hurt him.
For once, Remus wasn't in a sweater. Since his was rested comfortably on your body, as your scent comforted The Wolf greatly.
And his scent comforted you, too.
Remus' book had suddenly landed on your lap, and though it startled you a bit. You didn't bother to ask why, until you sat up.
Remus was locked in a passionate conversation with Gryffindor's resident golden girl, Lily Evans.
"Evans, it's lovely to see you."
"Same to you, Lupin."
Godric, was she beautiful.
"I just stopped by to see if you had gotten any of the Defence Against The Dark Arts homework done?"
Lily Evans was as radiant as an angel who blessed anyone with her presence.
"I have; actually, I just finished my paper."
Remus seemed mesmerized by her, the golden gleam from the fire painting her features gorgeously in that same citrine glow as Remus'.
"Could I have a look of it? Not to copy it- obviously, I just want to see how others are wording the question."
You weren't even half as pretty as Lily.
"Of course, and I know you'd never cheat."
"You're the smartest witch in our year."
You tried not to mind other girls flirting with your boys.
Just because you knew that later that night they'd be back to your boys again, and only yours.
As she was about to go, she planted a soft kiss on the side of Remus' cheek, leaving him blushing softly as he bid her goodbye.
Your heart clenched, it was merely a pleasantry. You were being dramatic.
"Are you alright, dove?" Your head perked up at the sound of Remus' voice.
"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You mused, albeit a bit absentmindedly.
"Are you tired?" He asked carefully.
"I am, actually..." You forced a sweet smile onto your lips, as he leaned down to kiss them softly.
That kiss was the last one that felt anything more than a chore, an obligation.
That was also your last kiss with Remus.
Cheering James on at the quidditch pitch was just the thrill you needed after that melancholy moment with Remus.
He soared through the field like he was on top of the world, the players scattered around the pitch for one common goal: to win.
Gryffindor had won the game with 60 points, and James had caught the snitch like usual.
This game was also a rain game.
Just as you were about to head down to showers when you spotted Lily excitedly trailing after James.
You knew full well that James chased Lily tirelessly since they started school, that was also well before you came into the picture.
You also knew that she wanted nothing to do with him or the other marauders, so what was with her infatuation now?
Why your boys? She couldn't find her own boys?
But maybe she was just being friendly, right? The boys would never ever cheat on you... right?
You heard Lily giggle as James so graciously held the curtain open for her to enter the locker room, and your heart clenched.
You followed them in, jealously.
"James?" You called, as James poked his head from the changing area. Sweat glistening off his abs.
"Hi, Y/N." He shut the curtain behind him, as if he had something to hide.
Also; he barely just called you by your first name.
"You didn't come to see me after the game?" You questioned, grazing his cheek gently as he spoke."
"Sorry, Y/N. It was a long one." He excused, as he clearly looked a bit flushed.
"You look red, are you dehydrated?"
"Godric, y/n. you are hardly my mum."
You giggled as if it was a joke, yet he seemed quite stone faced.
You cleared your throat embarrassingly once you realized.
"I... just wanted to congratulate you on another win." You forcefully smiled again.
"Thank you, I really appreciate that." Then, he flashed his classic grin at you.
The grin he hadn't flashed at you since he realized he genuinely liked you.
What the fuck?
"Victory kiss?" You asked quietly, with some false hope mixed in.
"Of course." He pecked your forehead quickly, before hurrying off back to his changing area.
And with that, you had also left the steamy tent and outside into the cool, soft rain once more.
A forehead kiss? whenever he used to give you victory kisses they'd be full-on make outs in that same changing room or the showers.
James was falling out of love with you, and you knew it.
Luckily, you could easily disguise your tears with the excuse of it raining.
"Victory kiss?" Lily mewled, from her position on the stool in his changing spot.
"Just on the forehead, lovely."
You stopped showing up to breakfast, as the one time you decided to go Lily was sat in your spot next to Sirius.
Dorcas was nearly at her wits end with the boys and their antics.
The motley crew of Slytherins were the only ones who knew of your relationship, and they were pissed off.
"Treasure, surely they aren't fucked enough to know that you are the best thing they've ever had!" Barty explained, laying upside-down on his bed across from you.
"I-It's no use, Jr." You cried softly, mirroring his position yet on your bed instead. The tears (and blood) rushing to your hairline instead of your face because Dorcas said 'Your makeup is too pretty to ruin, love.' .
"There is a use, Y/L/N. we'll kill them-"
"Jr, absolutely not." Regulus chided, rubbing your shoulder. "She's clearly upset, I don't see the issue."
"Murder is never a good option, Barty." Dorcas scolded gently.
"So what are we gonna do then? My Treasure can't go on like this!"
"You said you've already talked to James and Remus? Maybe you can go talk to... eh... Sirius." Clearly, that name was hard for Regulus to get out.
"*Sniff* yeah, yeah- I'll go talk to him..." You sat up half-hazardously, and strutted out of the dorm-room to go (hopefully) save your relationship.
You still remember the third of December.
Sirius lounged on the couch while speaking with the other marauders, about some sort of prank on the other group of Slytherins.
"And then, we'll-"
"Hi, Siri." You sat next to him, beaming up at him (hopefully).
"...y/n." He greeted casually, before continuing to talk.
Your smile faded, as he continued to talk to your other boyfriends friends about this horrible prank.
Instead of leaving, you sat quietly next to them, as if you were some decoration or trophy wife.
This was truly your breaking point, as you saw Lily sit down on the couches of the common room as she caught all of their attention, you hadn't seemed to do that for ages. Though, she was wearing something familiar...
Remus'... sweater...
Remus'- YOUR Remus' sweater.
"How's it look?" Lily asked, giving them a twirl. Their eyes locked on her.
"Gorgeous, doll." Sirius flirted, shooting her a wink.
"Truly a sight for sore eyes." James grinned.
"It looks better on you than it did me." Remus took her hand and helped her sit down on the couch in between him and James.
That's exactly what he said to you...
He put his arm 'round her shoulder,
suddenly you got colder.
She's got them mesmerized... while you die.
But how could you hate her?
She's such an angel...
But then again you wished she were dead.
"Why would you ever kiss me?" You asked impulsively.
"What?" James looked up from Lily, all eyes on you.
"I mean- I'm not even half as pretty."
"Y/n, You're overthinking it-" Remus started it.
"You gave her your sweater!" You shot back.
"It's just polyester!" Remus defended.
"But you like her better." You felt the tears rush to your waterline.
"We're done." You whispered, leaving Lily looking so confused and the common room dead quiet.
"What does she mean by that...?" Lily seemed horrified.
"We... weren't really dating.." Sirius attempted to defend.
"Yes, we were, you tosser!" James shoved him.
"You said yourself that you were bored of her!" Remus stated matter-of-factly.
"Was I seriously the other woman?" Lily mewled, her hands clutching the sides of her head.
"Nonono- No, we were planning to break up with her but- because we all wanted you-" Sirius tried again.
"Then don't fuck around with her feelings just to get me!" Lily yelled, standing up quickly.
"I appreciate the admiration- but I need time to process, okay? You all were absolute... arseholes to her, I'll admit." Lily started,
"Are you saying no?" James quickly cut in.
"...No..." Lily ended.
After crying your eyes out to Barty and Regulus over your breakup, December 7th rolled around.
The day that students were meant to be studying for their OWLS and other end of term exams.
You would usually be in the library 24/7.
Lily, had finally come around and accepted the boys' proposal, and their relationship became public quickly.
Lily obviously still felt this bitter taste of guilt in her mouth, as did all of them.
So today, Lily had convinced them all to apologize to you for borderline cheating and lying and manipulating and gaslighting-.
But, you were nowhere to be found.
"Regulus! Regulus, wait up!" Lily ran through the hallways to get to her.
"Evans, Brother.. Potter... and Lupin.." She said those last three names with utter disgust.
"We're trying to find Y/n, have you seen her?" Remus asked quietly, he was definitely feeling the most guilt.
"Y/n? Well, If she was here, I think she'd completely refuse to see you lot." Regulus explained bluntly.
"W-What do you mean "If she was here"?" James questioned.
"I mean, Her, Junior., and the Rosier twins completed their OWLS early and hightailed it to Junior's holiday house for the rest of the break." He explained casually.
"What?" Sirius scowled.
"What the hell is my girl-... Y/n doing with them?" James had the same expression as Sirius.
"They are simply better friends then you were to her, hm? I don't blame her."
"When will she be back?" Lily asked breathlessly.
"End of December, If she ever returns." Regulus strolled away, potions book in hand.
"...We fucked up."
Fin.
#marauders era#fem!reader#sirius black#remus lupin#marauders#fanfiction#james potter#poly!marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#lily evans#no lily slander#fanfic#angst no comfort#angst no happy ending
191 notes
¡
View notes
Text
đź a regular korean citizen
pairing: idol!active duty!jeonghan x gn!reader word count: 817 genre: fluff, slice of life rating: pg tags: sleepy couple, morning musings, mainly an imagine of sorts, reader is tired bc of work, mentions of active korean military duty are NOT accurate and i do not claim their accuracy so please bear with my descriptions i rly did just make them up as i went warnings: none request from my love, tara (@diamonddaze01)! âone waking up before the other, so they make up their side of the bed and canât help but tuck in their sleeping lover as they do soâ with jeonghan pls and thank u i miss my husband a/n: thank u lovely tara! i indeed got out of the dreaded writing slump. and itâs my first time writing jeonghan so i hope i did him justice for u!
. Ýâ âš . ÝË . Ý masterlist . Ýâ âš . ÝË . Ý
âďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďš
Jeonghan distinctly remembers going to sleep on his own with no one else on the bed. It was a pleasant surprise for him to see you on the other side when he rolled over.
If there was anything he enjoyed most about being an active member of the Korean military, it was that he was not subject to the grueling demands of an idolâs schedule. He could just be a regular Korean citizenâsomething he hasnât had the luxury to experience in about a decade.
He couldnât say the same for you, though, who also worked in the entertainment industry with hours just as long as his used to be. It was evident in the way you were sprawled over the bed, caring less about how you looked and how you ended up sleeping. Your neck was in such an awkward position compared to your body that Jeonghan was so sure youâd wake up with a stiff neck, and he would not allow that.
He knew you were as much of a light sleeper as he was. And as much as he wanted to caress your face or smooth down your hair, he shouldnât for fear of waking you up from a much-deserved slumber.
But he wasnât Yoon Jeonghan, part-time troublemaker, for nothing. And he missed you, as he did every day, so what other reason could there be to justify him not holding the love of his life as dearly as he wanted to?
You mustâve been absolutely drained because you didnât even react at the gentlest of his touches. Jeonghan smiled and continued his soft strokes on your head. A forehead kiss did merit the slightest reaction from youâan automatic one where you seemed to involuntarily lean into the touch of his lips making contact on your skin.
He smirked. If only you could see it and how much it gave away how smug he felt to see you still craving for his touch. He checked the time from the standard military watch on his handâ5:37 am. It was time for him to get up.
He checked his phone, tapping into your work calendar to see your schedule. You still had a few hours of sleep left before your shoot scheduled for 1 pm. That was good, he thought, you need all the rest before another chaotic variety show shoot until whatever ungodly hour of the night.
The military discipline easily merged with Jeonghanâs idol discipline. It may not be the same for all fellow idols on active duty, but others have mentioned how similar both were. It was the implicit and discrete need for order and organization that both disciplines shared. It made sure everything was clean-cut and picture-perfect for idols on screen, and that everyone followed uniform standards with a code of conduct for active soldiers to learn.
Jeonghan was used to it. And such disciplines included even the simplest task of making the bed. He fluffed his pillow, he fixed the sheets he messed up on his side with a military tuckâand you didnât even budge. You were out cold.
Jeonghan huffed a sigh, running his hands through his short-cropped hairâsomething he was still getting used to. âAigoo-yaaaaaâ was all he said with all the endearment in his heart.
He shuffled over to your side and, as gently as he could, fixed your sleeping position to avoid that impending stiff neck of yours. He also fixed the clothes already riding up in places because of how haphazardly you put them on. Thankfully, you remembered to remove your makeup before going to sleep this time. He was almost late for duty the last time he stayed to carefully remove it for you while you slept.
Carefully, he fluffed up your pillow and fixed the sheets as much as possible. He opened up the blanket and let it rest on your sleeping figure. He so badly wanted to engulf you in a warm embrace, but he loved tucking you in and seeing your relaxed expression just as much.
He left one final parting gift: a kiss on your cheek. Okay, maybe more than one giftâanother kiss, a light brush of his lips on yours.
Jeonghanâs military enlistment allowed him to be a regular Korean citizen. That just gave him more opportunities to spend time with you and treat you the way a regular Korean citizen would. It was a welcome break for your relationship if it meant he could love you without all of the lights and cameras and judgmental eyes in the way.
Walking from the bedroom to the kitchen, he checked his phone once again and opened the calendar app. Peering at the time block for 7 pm later, he made sure his schedule and yours was a free time block. He couldnât wait to share the wild stories about him and his fellow military men that would have to wait until tonight.
âďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďšďš
post a/n: still accepting requests for my little drabble request game! all you gotta do is shoot an ask <3
post post a/n: svt won TWO daesangs at mama 2024 today!! HUHU i am proud of my bois (âŠËoËâŠ)âĄ
#chanranghaeys#chanranghaeys writes#thediamondlifenetwork#mansaenetwork#seventeen#svt#seventeen fic#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x y/n#svt x you#seventeen x you#seventeen drabble#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#svt fluff#jeonghan#yoon jeonghan#svt jeonghan#jeonghan x reader#jeonghan x you#jeonghan x y/n#jeonghan fluff#jeonghan imagines#jeonghan scenarios
195 notes
¡
View notes
Text
OHMYGOOOOOOD
Thank God this wasn't as sad as the others đ I needed a break from crying.
"Maybe itâs fate," she joked, but her tone had a hint of seriousness.
The way I almost screamed bc IT IS FATE đĽşđŠˇ
Logan followed without complaint, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the car. The streets were quieter than usual, but the tension between rival families was palpableâsomething was brewing, and everyone knew it.
Istg when I read this I was so sure y/n would end up with a bullet between her eyes, that's how scared I amđ
You laughed, standing up and dusting your hands off. âSorry to disappoint. Iâve got a weakness for strays.â
Logan being the ultimate strayđ
đ¤ she's always drawn to him
Mr. Russo gave Logan a once-over, then grinned, his false teeth gleaming. âYou any good at cards, tough guy?â
This was so precious to me!! Logan playing cards with y/n and her friends â¤ď¸
âYeah?â You took a step closer, crossing your arms with a playful grin. âAnd here I thought Iâd be driving you crazy.â
âYou do,â he murmured, almost too quietly. His lips turned up slightly, but he looked away, that unspoken wall going back up.
This has so many meanings, not only flirting but I can imagine after over 100 years loving and losing the same person over and over, that would definitely drive him crazy
You glanced down the hall and shrugged. âGuess I can live with that. For now.â
Loganâs lips twitched, just barely. âFor now,â he echoed, and there was something heavier in those words, something he wasnât sharing.
MY HEART ACHEDđđđđ
The kiss was desperate, wild, like he was making up for lost time. His lips claimed yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine, his hands moving to cradle your face, pulling you closer as if he couldnât stand the distance. You gasped against his mouth, your fingers finding their way into his hair, tugging him down harder.
Logan groaned into your mouth, a deep, almost pained sound, and the desperation in it made your blood race. He kissed you like he was starving, like he needed this, needed you, and you felt your body melt into him.
Omfg I've never seen them so passionate it's making me feel things đŽâđ¨ the smut was perfect balance of passion and desperation
And this time, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. Maybe, just maybe, even put that ring to use.
Screaming crying throwing up đđĽşđĽşđĽş bc I desperately need to see when he proposes but I can't even imagine how it would go
You felt a surge of affection for him then, this man whoâd somehow become both your protector and your closest confidant. He was rough around the edges, guarded and distant with everyone elseâbut with you, he was different. You brought out a softness in him, a warmth that felt as though it had been buried for a long, long time.
This might be one of the best dialogues I've read, bc it's so true 𼺠for decades this man has tried everything in his power to cherish and protect the love of his life, she's the only one that brings out a resemblance of peace on himđđ
Loganâs gaze darkened. âItâs not. You know that. And anyone who tries to take it without your say? They got me to deal with.â His voice was low and dangerous, a promise just for you.
Forever obsessed with this story and the way he will do anything to help and adore y/nâ¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸â¤ď¸
i love you, in every time ŕżâ§â 1973 - we meet again my dear...
chapter summary: After leaving Team X behind, Logan finds himself back in New York City working as a bodyguard for various people. Until he finds himself acting as a bodyguard for you, a mobster's daughter.
word count: 18.3k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: i'm a sucker for the bodyguard trope (and also just dofp logan in general, that man makes me go feral), so you know i had to do it when given the chance! i had so much fun writing this version of reader, especially because this is the closest to 'modern' times that we've gotten and i didn't have to do a ton of research about this year. the tags might give away a little bit of the plot, but i promise it's gonna be a fun ride ;)
warnings/tags: fluff, angst, 70s!logan, mafia/mob, implied age gap, flirting, smut, thigh riding, unprotected piv, creampie, arranged marriage
series masterlist - chapter 4 â chapter 6
He left Stryker, Victor, and Team X behind, settling in New York City as a bodyguard, hired by various people: politicians, the mafia, anyone.
Logan was now getting his fifth job, protecting a mobsterâs young daughter.
He was used to jobs like this by now, but something about this one felt... different. As he walked through the large estate, the details blurred around him. His focus was on the jobâuntil the moment he saw you.
You were standing by the window, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over your face. There was something familiar about the way you held yourself, the way your hair fell over your shoulders. For a second, it felt like the air was sucked out of the room.
Loganâs chest tightened.
It was you.
Same face. Same presence. Same pull that had haunted him for over a century.
But you were different, too. This time, you werenât a schoolteacher, a nurse, or a coal minerâs wife. You were his new job.
You turned, eyes meeting his, and for a brief moment, it felt like you recognized him too. That sense of familiarity flickered across your face before you smiledâpolite, but distant.
âY/N, this is Logan,â the mobsterâyour fatherâintroduced. âHeâll be your new bodyguard.â
Your fatherâs voice faded into the background as Loganâs gaze remained locked on you. You gave a small nod, extending your hand. âNice to meet you, Logan.â
Logan stared at your hand for a beat too long before taking it. That brief contact sent a shock through him, an old memory he couldnât quite shake.
âLikewise,â he muttered, his voice rougher than he intended.
Your father clapped Logan on the back. âI expect youâll keep her safe. Thereâs been some... tension with a rival family.â
Logan only nodded, but his attention stayed on you. You were right in front of him, alive. But you didnât know him. Like always.
After your father left the room, you leaned against the window frame, crossing your arms. âSo, how long have you been doing this?â you asked, your tone casual.
Logan leaned against the wall, watching you closely. âLong enough.â
You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. âThatâs vague.â
He didnât respond, and for a moment, silence settled between you two. It wasnât uncomfortable, but there was something unsaid hanging in the air.
âWhat about you?â Logan asked, more to fill the space than out of curiosity. âHow do you feel about having a bodyguard?â
You shrugged. âIâve had worse.â
That earned a faint, almost imperceptible smile from Logan, but he quickly covered it with a grunt. âGlad to hear it.â
A pause. Then you looked at him, your eyes narrowing slightly, like you were trying to figure him out. âYou seem... familiar.â
Logan stiffened. âDonât think weâve met before.â
You tilted your head, studying him. âNo, but... I donât know. Something about you.â
Loganâs heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. He couldnât tell you. Not about the past lives, not about how many times he had watched you die.
You shrugged it off, smiling again. âMaybe Iâm just imagining things.â
âMaybe,â Logan muttered, not meeting your eyes this time.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of introductions, schedules, and instructions from your father. Logan followed at a distance, keeping an eye on you, but his mind was elsewhere.
That night, Logan sat on the balcony just outside your room, staring out at the city lights. His thoughts raced, the weight of the engagement ring in his pocket feeling heavier than usual.
You were alive. Again.
But for how long this time?
---
You plopped onto your bed, the wire from your rotary phone stretching with you, âhe is good looking though.â
You could practically hear Jenniferâs grin through the phone, âoh, yeah? Man, all your bodyguards are good looking. Itâs not fair!â
You laughed, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. "Heâs⌠different though. I canât quite put my finger on it. Heâs quiet, but not in the usual 'Iâm-paid-to-watch-you' way."
"Is he mysterious?" Jennifer teased, her voice light. "Maybe heâs got some dark, brooding backstory. Mob families always hire guys like thatââstrong and silent.â"
You snorted. "Maybe. But heâs not like the others." You hesitated, leaning back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. âThereâs something familiar about him⌠like Iâve met him before.â
Jennifer paused on the other end of the line, then her voice softened. "You think heâs one of your dadâs guys from back in the day?"
You shook your head, even though she couldnât see it. "No, itâs not that. Itâs⌠weird, Jen. Like I know him, but I donât. Itâs been bugging me since I met him."
"Maybe itâs fate," she joked, but her tone had a hint of seriousness. "Youâve been going through bodyguards like theyâre tissues. Maybe this oneâs here to stick around."
You rolled your eyes but smiled. "Fate? Youâve been reading too many romance novels."
"Hey, a girl can dream!" Jennifer laughed. "But seriously, if you feel something, maybe itâs worth looking into. Heâs hot, right?"
You smiled at that, though your thoughts wandered back to Logan. The way his eyes lingered on you, like he was seeing something no one else could. "Yeah," you admitted softly. "Heâs definitely that. Heâs probably as old as my dad or somethinâ. But man, Jen, if you saw him youâd lose your mind.â
You twirled the phone cord around your finger, still smiling to yourself, but your thoughts kept circling back to Logan. Something about the way he looked at youâlike he knew more than he was sayingâstuck with you. It wasnât creepy or overprotective. It was... familiar. Comforting, even.
Jenniferâs voice pulled you from your thoughts. âHey, donât overthink it, okay? Enjoy the view for once. Not everyone gets a hot bodyguard with a mysterious vibe. Maybe heâs the silver lining to your dadâs whole âparanoiaâ problem.â
You laughed quietly. âYeah, maybe.â
You hung up not long after, still feeling the weight of that odd, lingering sense of dĂŠjĂ vu.
---
The next morning, Logan was waiting for you downstairs. Dressed in his usual dark clothes, he stood near the front door with his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but alert. His eyes flicked toward you the second you entered the room.
There it was againâthat heavy gaze that made it feel like he could see right through you.
âMorninâ,â you said, offering a small smile.
âMorninâ,â Logan replied, his voice gravelly.
Your father wasnât homeâout dealing with âbusinessââwhich gave you a rare moment to yourself. Well, mostly. You slipped on your leather jacket and glanced at Logan, your lips quirking up in a teasing grin. âWhatâs the plan, bodyguard? Gonna follow me around all day?â
Logan grunted, something close to amusement flashing in his eyes. âThatâs the job.â
âYou always this chatty?â
âOnly when I meet interesting people.â His tone was dry, but there was the faintest flicker of a smile beneath it.
You snorted, heading for the door. âCâmon, hope you like running errands.â
Logan followed without complaint, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the car. The streets were quieter than usual, but the tension between rival families was palpableâsomething was brewing, and everyone knew it.
Still, Loganâs presence made you feel... safer. Like nothing bad could happen as long as he was there. It was strange. You barely knew him, but being around him felt easy. Natural. Like youâd known him for a lot longer than a day.
---
When you said you were going to run âerrands,â Logan hadnât expected you to walk straight into an animal shelter. He followed you through the entrance, nodding politely at the woman at the front desk as you greeted her like an old friend.
âMorning, Lorraine!â you said with a bright smile.
Lorraine, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, smiled back. âThereâs my favorite troublemaker. The pups will be glad to see you.â She cast a curious glance at Logan. âAnd whoâs this?â
âMy latest babysitter,â you said with a smirk, glancing at Logan. âLogan, meet Lorraine. Lorraine, Logan.â
Logan gave a curt nod. âMaâam.â
Lorraine chuckled. âA man of few words. I like him already.â She waved you both toward the back. âGo on, theyâve been waiting for you.â
As soon as you walked past the front desk and entered the back area, the sound of excited barking filled the air. Dogs of all sizes pressed their noses against the bars of their cages, tails wagging furiously at the sight of you.
You crouched down in front of one of the kennels, talking softly to a scruffy little mutt as it whined and pawed at the bars. âHey, buddy. Miss me?â
Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the way you scratched behind the dog's ears. There was something easy about the way you moved here, something soft. For a mobsterâs kid, you had a surprisingly gentle touch.
"Didn't expect this to be part of the job," Logan muttered after a moment, his voice low but teasing.
You glanced up, grinning. "What, thought Iâd be shopping for fur coats or shaking people down for cash?"
Logan raised a brow. "Somethinâ like that."
You laughed, standing up and dusting your hands off. âSorry to disappoint. Iâve got a weakness for strays.â You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of treats, tossing some into the kennels. "These guys have it rough enough without me skipping out on them."
Logan watched as the dogs practically fought over the treats, barking happily at your attention. You moved from cage to cage, giving each dog a little affection. It was... unexpected.
Logan watched you toss the last treat into one of the kennels, the scruffy mutt practically vibrating with happiness. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, an amused glint in his eyes as you turned and dusted your hands off with a grin.
"Youâre full of surprises," Logan muttered.
You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you folded your arms. âOh, yeah? Disappointed?â
"Not exactly." His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile.
You took a step closer, tilting your head. "Well, what did you expect?"
Logan shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. "Spoiled. Entitled. Maybe a little dangerous."
You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Loganâs chest tightened in a way that felt too familiar. "Dangerous, huh? Guess Iâve got some layers." You gave him a playful once-over. "What about you? Big, scary bodyguard with a brooding vibe. Got any surprises I should know about?"
Logan snorted. "Not really."
You narrowed your eyes like you didnât quite believe him, but instead of pressing, you motioned toward the door. "Câmon. Iâve got one more stop."
Logan fell into step beside you as you exited the shelter and made your way toward the car. You chatted casually, filling the silence with stories about your favorite dogs at the shelter. But Logan stayed mostly quiet, his mind racing. It wasnât just your voiceâit was you. The way you carried yourself, the way you teased him like it was second nature.
He stole a glance at you as you drove. God, it felt the same as always. Like gravity pulled him toward you whether he wanted it or not.
---
Logan shouldâve expected the second time around that you werenât taking him to a normal place for errands. He was even more surprised when you parked in a nursing home parking lot and got out with that same pep in your step.
The sliding doors opened as you walked up to the front counter, where a middle-aged woman with tired eyes peered over the top of a blocky computer monitor. Her name tag read Carol.
âMorning, Carol,â you chirped with an easy smile, tapping your fingers on the desk.
Carol looked up and brightened at the sight of you. âWell, if it isnât my favorite visitor. Here to cheer up the old-timers again?â
âAlways,â you said, flashing a grin. âAnd I brought backup today.â You gestured behind you to Logan, who gave a brief nod.
Carol gave him a once-over and arched an eyebrow. âWell now, you didnât tell me youâd be bringing a tall drink of water.â
You smirked, glancing over your shoulder at Logan. âYeah, figured Iâd mix things up.â
Logan just grunted in response, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightlyâhalf amusement, half something else. Carol winked at you before waving toward the hallway. âYou know where to find them.â
You led Logan down the hall, your steps light and familiar as if you'd been coming here for years. He followed quietly, his sharp gaze flicking between doorways and hallways, always alert.
âYou spend a lot of time here?â Logan asked as you slowed near a door marked Activity Room.
You shrugged. âYeah. Most of these folks donât get many visitors. Itâs nice to stop by and remind them theyâre not forgotten.â
Logan gave a small grunt of acknowledgment. It was such a simple thingâvolunteering at a nursing homeâbut it hit him hard. It was just like you to find the overlooked parts of the world and give them your attention, like the dogs at the shelter, like the people here. You always had that streak of kindness, no matter which life you were living.
You nudged open the door, stepping into the room. A group of residents sat in mismatched chairs, some knitting, others half-watching a daytime soap on an old television. At the sight of you, faces lit up.
âThere she is!â one of the older women called, setting her knitting aside with a delighted clap of her hands. âI thought you forgot about us!â
âAs if I ever could,â you replied warmly, walking over to give her a light hug.
Logan lingered near the doorway, watching as you moved through the room like you belonged there, chatting with each resident, asking about their week, their familiesâif they remembered them. His heart twisted, both with admiration and an ache that wouldnât quit.
You noticed him standing off to the side and shot him a teasing grin. âDonât be shy, Logan. They wonât bite.â
He raised an eyebrow. âNot worried about them.â
You laughed, turning back to an older man with a deck of cards spread out in front of him. âLogan, meet Mr. Russo. Heâs got a mean poker face.â
Mr. Russo gave Logan a once-over, then grinned, his false teeth gleaming. âYou any good at cards, tough guy?â
Logan shrugged. âI can hold my own.â
You slid into the chair beside Mr. Russo, motioning for Logan to join you. âCare to test your luck?â
Logan hesitated for only a moment before pulling out a chair, the legs scraping against the linoleum. As he sat down, you dealt him a hand, your fingers brushing his in the processâa fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt of familiarity through both of you.
You caught Loganâs gaze over the cards, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. There it was againâthat sense that you knew him somehow, though you couldnât quite place it. It nagged at you, but you let it pass, offering him a playful smirk instead.
âCareful,â you warned. âI donât go easy on anyone.â
Logan returned the smirk, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. âNeither do I.â
---
After the game, which you wonâbarely, you said your goodbyes to the residents, promising to visit again soon. Logan followed silently as you made your way back to the car, the soft clinking of your keys the only sound between you.
âNot what you expected for today, huh?â you asked as you slid into the driverâs seat.
Logan leaned against the car door, arms crossed. âNot exactly.â
You smiled, starting the engine. âBet you thought being a mobsterâs kid would be more... glamorous.â
âSomething like that.â He gave you a sidelong glance. âYou like keeping people guessing, donât you?â
You grinned, shifting the car into drive. âItâs one of my many talents.â
The two of you drove in companionable silence, the hum of the city filling the space between you. Logan rested his elbow on the window frame, glancing at you every so often. You were like a puzzle he couldnât quite solveâdifferent from the others, yet still unmistakably you.
âWhy do you do it?â he asked after a while. âThe shelter, the nursing home. You donât have to.â
You shrugged, your expression thoughtful. "Dunno. Just because I was born into this life doesnât mean I like what my dad does. I guess sometimes I feel like Iâm tryinâ to balance the scales."
Logan leaned back against the seat, his sharp gaze on you, but he didnât respond right away. You could tell he was chewing on thatâprobably picking apart your words, trying to figure you out. He always seemed like the kind of man who noticed everything, even if he didnât say much about it.
You flashed him a teasing grin, trying to lighten the mood. "What about you? Any skeletons in the closet? Or are you just a man of mystery with perfect timing?"
Logan snorted softly, his lips twitching in that almost-smile he had. "Iâm no mystery. Just do my job."
"Oh, come on," you pressed, throwing him a playful look. "You gotta give me something. Favorite food? Ever been married? Deep, dark secret?"
He gave you a sidelong glance, amused but guarded. "Steak. No. And not a chance."
You huffed in mock disappointment, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel. "Youâre no fun, Logan."
"Never said I was," he muttered, but there was warmth in his tone, like he didnât mind your teasing at all.
The conversation paused for a moment, the soft hum of the engine filling the space between you. Loganâs eyes lingered on you a little longer than they probably should haveâtaking in the curve of your smile, the way your fingers tapped a rhythm on the wheel.
And damn, if you didnât make it hard to stay detached. You were so... alive. Every glance, every smile, every little laugh. You carried yourself like someone who knew how fleeting things could beâand even though Logan knew you couldnât remember, he remembered every time youâd slipped through his fingers. That thought settled heavy in his chest, like a weight he carried everywhere.
You shot him a grin. "You know, if you keep looking at me like that, Iâm gonna think youâre interested."
Loganâs lips twitched. "What makes you think Iâm not?"
The boldness of his response caught you off guard for a second, but you recovered quickly, leaning a little closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Careful, tough guy. Youâre supposed to be protecting me, not flirting with me."
"Who says I canât do both?" His voice was low, rough, and it sent a small shiver down your spine.
You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. "I think my dad might disagree."
Loganâs eyes darkened slightly, though his expression didnât change. "Your dadâs not here."
There it wasâthat pull again, the quiet, unspoken gravity between the two of you. It was like standing on the edge of something dangerous and thrilling all at once. You felt it in the way his gaze lingered, in the weight of his words. He wasnât just playing along.
You cleared your throat, breaking the tension with a teasing smile. "Well, if youâre planning on making a move, Logan, you better make it good. Iâve got high standards, yâknow."
Logan let out a low chuckleâquiet, but genuineâand for a moment, you thought you saw something softer in his eyes. Something like... affection.
But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that familiar guarded expression.
"Noted," he muttered, shifting his gaze back to the road ahead.
You grinned, satisfied that youâd managed to chip away at his walls, even if only a little.
---
The two of you finished your errands without any trouble, stopping by a grocery store for some essentials and grabbing a late lunch at a small diner tucked away from the main streets. It wasnât muchâjust burgers and friesâbut sitting across from Logan in the booth, you felt surprisingly content.
He was quiet most of the time, but not in a way that felt awkward. It was... comfortable. Like he didnât need to fill the silence just for the sake of it. And every now and then, heâd throw out a dry, sarcastic comment that made you laugh harder than you expected.
You leaned back in the booth, sipping your soda and watching him over the rim of your glass. "Yâknow, Logan... youâre not half as scary as you look."
Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Disappointed?"
"Not at all," you replied, your smile turning a little softer. "I like surprises."
He held your gaze for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind those sharp blue eyes. And for a secondâjust a secondâyou thought maybe, just maybe, there was something familiar about the way he looked at you. Like you were more than just a job to him.
But before you could dwell on it, Logan glanced at his watch and cleared his throat. "We should head back. Your old manâll be expecting you."
You sighed dramatically, sliding out of the booth. "Guess my funâs over."
Logan chuckled, tossing a few bills on the table for the check. "For now."
You gave him a playful nudge as you walked past him toward the door. "Donât sound too excited."
---
By the time you got back to the house, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting the streets in a soft orange glow. Logan followed you inside, his quiet presence grounding you in a way you couldnât quite explain.
"Thanks for today," you said, tossing your jacket onto a chair.
Logan gave a small nod, leaning against the wall near the door. "No problem."
You hesitated for a moment, then shot him one last grin. "You know, youâre not as bad as I thought."
"Same to you," he replied, that almost-smile creeping back onto his face.
And just like that, the unspoken connection between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting.
Maybe Logan was right. Maybe your dad would be pissed if he knew how much you enjoyed your new bodyguardâs company.
But standing there, watching Loganâs gaze linger on you for just a beat too long, you found you didnât care all that much.
"Goodnight, Logan," you said softly, turning toward the stairs.
"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, his voice low and steady.
And as you climbed the stairs, you couldnât shake the feeling that this wasnât the first time youâd said goodnight to him like this.
Not by a long shot.
---
Your dad told you not to leave the house today, which was fine by you, you had laundry to do anyways.
It had become habit to do your own laundry, even if you did have maids around the house. Nancy, one of the older maids, was the one to teach you that, along with cooking and cleaning since your mother has been gone since you were little.
You had a radio set on the washer, the familiar croon of 70s tunes filling the small laundry room as you pulled warm clothes from the dryer into a basket. Youâd been at it for the better part of the morning, the simple domestic task giving you a sense of normalcy. The soft hum of the machines, the crackling radio, and the scent of clean laundryâ it was all routine.
Routine helped keep your mind off the storm brewing outside your little bubble.
You sighed, swaying your hips a bit to the music as you lifted the basket. The house felt quieter today, with your dad off dealing with âbusinessâ as usual. And Logan? He was somewhere nearby, probably lurking in the shadows like the brooding protector he was.
As if on cue, Logan appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He was dressed in his usual dark clothing, looking as stoic as ever. You wondered if he ever wore anything other than flannels and a leather jacket.
"You know, I didnât take you for the laundry-doing type," he remarked, his gravelly voice cutting through the music.
You raised an eyebrow, throwing a playful glance over your shoulder. "What, you think Iâm too spoiled to do my own chores?"
Logan's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "Something like that."
You smirked, grabbing the laundry basket and turning to face him. "I like to surprise people."
"Youâre good at it," he replied, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. There was something behind those eyes, something deeper, but as always, he kept it hidden beneath that calm, impenetrable exterior.
You tilted your head, leaning your hip against the dryer. "You sticking around or just checking on me?"
Logan shrugged, though his eyes never left yours. "Just making sure you're not running off anywhere. Your dad was pretty clear about staying put."
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips softened the gesture. "Iâll be a good girl. Promise."
Logan grunted in response, pushing off the doorframe and walking closer. "Youâre a lot of things, Y/N. Not sure âgood girlâ is one of them."
You let out a laugh, swatting at him with a towel. "Hey, I can behave when I want to. Itâs just more fun not to."
He caught your wrist with ease, holding it for a second too long before letting go. There was that familiar tension between you again, the unspoken something that crackled in the air whenever the two of you were close. He probably didn't mean to linger, but you could feel itâthat pull.
"Maybe itâs the company," you teased, grabbing your laundry basket. "You bring out the best in me."
Logan didnât respond immediately, but there was something in his eyes, something that made your breath hitch. He was quiet, but not in the usual way bodyguards were. With Logan, there was a weight to his silence, like he was always holding back, always watching.
You pushed past the lingering tension with a grin, heading toward the door with your laundry. "Come on, broody. Letâs get out of the laundry room before we both go stir-crazy."
As you passed by, you brushed against himâjust lightly, but enough to send a small jolt through you. He didnât move, but his eyes followed your every step, that silent intensity never wavering.
You stopped in the hallway and shot him a look over your shoulder. âYouâre making this way too serious, you know. Iâm doing laundry, not sneaking out of prison.â
âOld habits die hard,â he replied, crossing his arms with a slight smirk. âBesides, I think your dadâs idea of âsafeâ is pretty different from yours.â
You rolled your eyes, hugging the laundry basket closer. âRight. Next, heâll say I need an escort to the mailbox.â
Logan raised a brow, clearly amused. âYou wouldnât be the first.â
That earned him a laugh, and you shook your head, settling the basket on the table in the hall. âGuess youâre stuck with me then, bodyguard.â
âDoesnât seem so bad,â he said, his voice softening as he glanced at you. His gaze was familiar in a way you couldnât place, like heâd looked at you this way a hundred times before.
âYeah?â You took a step closer, crossing your arms with a playful grin. âAnd here I thought Iâd be driving you crazy.â
âYou do,â he murmured, almost too quietly. His lips turned up slightly, but he looked away, that unspoken wall going back up.
âGood,â you teased, reaching out to poke him in the chest. âKeeps things interesting.â
Logan caught your hand before you could pull it back, holding it just long enough that you could feel the warmth of his touch, the quiet strength in it. There was something in his eyes that hinted at⌠more. Like heâd known you far longer than you couldâve ever guessed.
âIs that what you want?â he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart thumped, but you kept your tone light. âDepends on what youâre offering, doesnât it?â
His gaze dropped to your hand, still caught in his. He let go, but there was something in his expression that lingered. It was like he was searching for the right words, something he couldnât quite say. Or maybe didnât want to.
Instead, he settled back with that guarded look. âBetter get used to me being around,â he said, nodding toward the front of the house. âYour dad wonât have it any other way.â
You glanced down the hall and shrugged. âGuess I can live with that. For now.â
Loganâs lips twitched, just barely. âFor now,â he echoed, and there was something heavier in those words, something he wasnât sharing.
You lingered for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before you picked up the basket again. âWell, Iâve got more laundry to fold. But if you feel like helping outâŚâ
He chuckled, shaking his head. âNice try, sweetheart.â
You rolled your eyes, shooting him a wink. âFine. Iâll let you off easy this time.â
âAppreciate it,â he said with a smirk, but his eyes softened as he watched you turn to go, like he was holding back something he couldnât quite name.
As you walked away, the light-heartedness of the moment stayed with you, but so did something else. It was that look Logan had, the one that made you feel seen, like he knew you better than anyone else ever had.
Maybe he did.
Or maybe, in some impossible way, he always had.
---
âNo, no, no, cara. Give it to me.â Nancy took the mixing bowl away from you, stirring the batter while muttering something in Italian.
You leaned your hip against the counter, placing your head on Nancyâs shoulder with a pout. "I was doing what youâre doing.â
Nancy shook her head, stirring the batter with a practiced hand, her warm, familiar presence comforting. âNo, cara mia, you were doing what you think Iâm doing.â She shot you a look, one of those fond, chiding glances sheâd perfected over the years. âAnd it was not the same.â
You laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. âFine, but youâre teaching me bad habits. This is how I stay spoiled, you know.â
She chuckled, patting your cheek affectionately. âYou think you need me to be spoiled? You do just fine on your own.â
Before you could respond, Loganâs familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, watching you with a slight smirk that was becoming all too familiarâand endearing.
âCareful, Nancy,â he said, his voice a low rumble. âSheâs already hard enough to handle.â
You turned, hands on your hips, feigning offense. âExcuse me, hard to handle?â
Logan shrugged, crossing his arms with a smirk. âYou said it, not me.â
Nancy chuckled, eyes sparkling as she looked between you and Logan. âAh, Y/N, heâs right. You do have a little spirit.â
You scoffed playfully, giving Logan an exaggerated glare before grinning back at Nancy. âWhat? Iâm an angel, and you know it.â
Logan snorted, clearly enjoying himself. âRight. A real saint.â He gave you a knowing look, one that made your stomach flip despite yourself. That unspoken energy simmered between you two, even as you tried to keep it casual.
Nancy just shook her head, muttering something in Italian as she set the bowl down. âAngels donât cause so much trouble,â she teased, pinching your cheek. âI taught you better.â
You rubbed your cheek with a grin, leaning back against the counter. âIâm blaming Logan. His bad influence must be rubbing off on me.â
Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up. âThat right? Thought you didnât need any help there.â
âOh, I donât,â you said, crossing your arms with a challenging look. âIâm fully capable of trouble on my own.â
Nancy watched the two of you with a satisfied smile, turning back to her baking. âAh, I see,â she murmured, her voice light. âItâs good to have someone who knows how to keep you in check.â
The glint in her eye wasnât lost on you, and you rolled your eyes. âYouâre making it sound like Iâm some kind of wild child.â
âNo, no,â she replied with a grin, waving her hand. âJust that I think he knows you better than you think, cara.â
Loganâs gaze softened a little at that, and though he didnât say anything, his look lingered, as if he were silently agreeing with her.
You cleared your throat, feeling the familiar warmth creeping up your neck. âWell,â you started, trying to brush off the moment, âif Loganâs going to stick around, he might as well help.â
Nancy gave a sly smile, turning to Logan. âWhat do you say, Logan? A little kitchen work wouldnât hurt.â
Logan shook his head, holding his hands up in surrender. âYou two are doing just fine without me.â
You shot him a grin, taking a step closer. âOh, come on. Big, tough Logan afraid of a little flour?â
His smirk softened as he looked down at you. âYou keep pushing, and I might just teach you a lesson in troublemaking.â
Your stomach fluttered at the way his gaze stayed locked on yours, that familiar pull tugging you closer. âIs that a threat?â
âCall it⌠a warning,â he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand brushed against yours, just for a second, but it was enough to send a spark up your arm.
Nancy cleared her throat, clearly amused. âOkay, okay. I donât need you two making a mess of my kitchen.â
You stepped back, giving Nancy a sheepish smile, and Logan chuckled, the sound low and easy. âSheâs right,â he said, nodding toward the door. âGuess Iâll just keep an eye on you from a safe distance.â
Nancy gave him a knowing look, shaking her head with a chuckle. âIf only it were that simple.â
---
âAh, stay still, cara.â Nancy chided you, taking out a roller from your hair.
You gave Nancy a pout, eyes skimming your reflection in the mirror with clear discontent. "I donât like it." Your voice held more weight than just the hair and makeup, though, and Nancy seemed to pick up on it.
She clicked her tongue, smoothing out a curl before looking at you through the mirror. âAh, cara mia, tonight is important to your father. Besides,â she added, eyes glinting, âyou look beautiful, yes?â
You gave her a half-hearted smile, brushing your hands over the bright yellow fabric of your dress. The dress was elegant and too formal for your taste, the kind of thing youâd never have chosen if it werenât for your dadâs insistence on making you âpresentableâ for his associates.
Nancy sighed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. âY/N, itâs one night. Then youâll be back to your regular clothes, hmm?â
You grinned, rolling your eyes. âCanât come soon enough.â
Just as you were about to add more, there was a quiet knock at the door. You looked up, already expecting Loganâs familiar silhouette. He leaned against the frame, hands in his pockets, his usual air of calm doing little to hide the intense look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you in the dress.
âLooks like theyâve got you all dolled up,â he remarked, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
You shot him a look, half annoyed, half amused. âYeah, laugh it up, tough guy. Bet youâre glad itâs not you in this thing.â
Logan chuckled, stepping further into the room. âYou could say that.â His eyes met yours, and for a brief second, there was something in his gaze, something you couldnât quite put into words. But just as quickly, he looked away.
Nancy gave you a knowing smile, patting your shoulder before stepping back. âLogan,â she said, with a gentle warning in her voice, âtake care of her tonight, yes?â
Loganâs expression softened, his gaze turning protective as he looked at you. âAlways do.â
Nancy winked, then left the room, leaving you alone with him.
You let out a sigh, reaching for the hem of your dress as if you could somehow make it less constricting. âDo I really have to go down there?â
Logan raised an eyebrow. âYou think your dadâs throwing this party for fun? Whole point is for you to be seen.â
âGreat,â you muttered, moving toward the door. But as you passed him, Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.
âYouâll be fine,â he said, his voice lower, more reassuring. âTheyâre not expecting anything from you. Just show up, smile, let them know you exist.â
You looked up at him, searching his face. He was steady, calm, his expression soft in a way he rarely let others see. You didnât know why, but having him there made you feel a little more at ease. âGuess I donât have much choice, do I?â
âNope,â he replied, his mouth twitching into that almost-smile.
With a resigned sigh, you squared your shoulders. âAlright, letâs get this over with.â
---
The party was everything youâd dreaded: formal, suffocating, and filled with people whose only interest in you was as your fatherâs daughter. Youâd stuck close to Logan most of the night, exchanging quiet remarks whenever the chance arose, his presence the only thing keeping you from losing your mind. But as the night wore on, a few glasses of champagne and the tension of the evening started to wear on you.
You tugged on Loganâs sleeve as you leaned in close. âThink anyone would notice if I snuck out?â you murmured, your breath warm against his ear.
Logan chuckled low, his gaze flickering over you. âConsidering your dadâs been watching you like a hawk? Probably.â
You rolled your eyes, letting your hand brush his arm. âFigures. He canât just let me have one night off.â You shifted closer, feeling his warmth through his jacket, and gave him a mischievous smile. âBet you didnât sign up for babysitting duty.â
âDidnât realize youâd need it,â he replied with a smirk, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear.
You nudged him playfully, letting your hand linger on his arm. âI donât,â you said, a little more insistently. âYou just donât know what to do with me.â
His eyes met yours, and there was something dark and unspoken in his gaze. âCareful,â he murmured, his voice dropping. âI might take you up on that.â
The hint of challenge in his tone sent a thrill through you, and you leaned closer, your hand settling on his chest as you whispered, âOh, Iâm counting on it.â
You could feel his heartbeat, steady beneath your hand, but his expression gave nothing away. He looked down at you, his jaw tight, but his eyes held that familiar intensity, the kind that had always made you wonder just how long heâd been watching you. It was intoxicating, that pull between you, and tonight, with the champagne loosening your guard, you felt bolder than usual.
When you finally pulled away, you could feel his gaze following you, but you didnât let yourself look back. Instead, you mingled through the crowd, smiling politely, pretending to listen to conversations while stealing glances at Logan across the room.
After what felt like hours, your fatherâs attention finally shifted, and you took the chance to slip away to your bedroom.
As you walked up the stairs, Logan trailed behind you, like always. You were tired of this, of the flirting, how he did it back to you, but how nothing ever happened.
Well tonight you were done with that.
You opened your bedroom door and sat on the bed, quickly slipping off your heels and tossing them carelessly across the room. The muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filtered up from downstairs, where the party raged on. Logan stood in the doorway, as he always did, watching you in that silent, intense way that had been driving you crazy for months.
You looked up at him, your fingers playing with the hem of your short yellow dress, the fabric brushing against your thighs as you shifted on the bed. âYou cominâ in, or are you just gonna stand there all night?â
Logan didnât respond right away, his jaw ticking as his eyes flicked over you, taking in the sight of you sitting there, legs crossed, your dress riding up just enough to tease. He sighed, stepping into the room but staying near the door. âYour old manâs got half the city downstairs, Y/N. This ainât the time.â
You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. âSince when do you care about my dad? Heâs not your boss.â
He crossed his arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket creaking. âHe pays me to keep you safe, not⌠this.â
You stood up from the bed, taking a step toward him. âThis?â you repeated, voice playful, but you could feel the tension in the air thickening. âAnd what is âthis,â Logan?â
He didnât answer, just stood there, his eyes dark and unreadable, but you could see the way his body tensed when you got closer, the way his gaze flicked down to your legs before snapping back up to your face.
You reached out, your fingers brushing against the rough material of his flannel, and you could feel the heat of his body through the layers of fabric. He stiffened, his hand catching your wrist, but it wasnât harsh. Just enough to stop you.
âY/N, donât,â he warned, his voice low, rough.
You tilted your head, stepping even closer until your body was almost pressed against his. âWhy not?â you asked softly. âYouâve been following me around for months. Always there, always watching. What are you so afraid of?â
âIâm not afraid,â he muttered, but his grip on your wrist tightened just a little, like he was holding himself back. âYouâre too young for this. I work for your dad.â
You pulled your wrist free, undeterred, your hand now resting against his chest. âIâm not a kid, Logan. And you donât work for himâyou work for me. Youâve been protecting me, havenât you?â
His eyes narrowed. âThatâs not what I mean, and you know it.â
âThen what do you mean?â you shot back, moving even closer, your fingers trailing up to his shoulder, over the leather of his jacket. âYouâve been pulling away from me every time I get close, but you keep coming back.â
Loganâs jaw clenched, his hands hovering near your waist, as if he was afraid to touch you. âYouâre drunk.â
âIâm not drunk,â you said firmly, your voice steady. âAnd you know that.â You pressed a little harder, your lips just inches from his jaw, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin. âYou donât have to keep pretending like you donât want this.â
His hands shot up to your shoulders, gripping you tightly, but he didnât push you away this time. His breathing was heavier now, the muscles in his arms tensing as if he was fighting against himself. âYou donât know what youâre asking for,â he growled, his voice barely above a whisper.
âMaybe not,â you admitted, your lips brushing the stubble on his jaw as you spoke. âBut I know what I want.â
Logan groaned low in his throat, his fingers tightening on your shoulders, but still, he didnât push you away. His resistance was crumbling, you could feel it.
âYouâre not a kid,â he repeated quietly, almost like he was trying to convince himself.
âNo,â you whispered back, your lips ghosting along the side of his neck, your hands moving to his chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. âIâm not.â
In a swift movement, you pushed him back toward the chair in the corner of the room, his legs hitting the edge as you guided him down. He sat heavily, his hands falling from your shoulders to your hips, still trying to hold onto that last bit of control.
You straddled his thigh, your dress riding up as you settled against him, the heat of your body pressed against the denim of his jeans. His hands moved up to your waist, holding you in place, but the look in his eyes told you he was barely holding on.
âY/N,â he rasped, but his voice was shaky, uncertain.
You didnât give him time to think. You started moving, rocking your hips against his thigh, slow at first, testing. His grip on your waist tightened, his eyes darkening as he watched you, the tension in his body radiating through his hands.
He wasnât stopping you.
You bit your lip, your breath hitching as you pressed harder against him, the friction sending a jolt of heat through you. Logan groaned, his hands sliding down to your hips, holding you steady as you moved. His control was slipping, and you could feel it.
âFuck,â he muttered under his breath, his head falling back against the chair, his eyes squeezed shut.
You leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear. âStill think Iâm too young?â
Loganâs jaw clenched, his hands gripping you harder as you rocked against him, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the thin material of your underwear. Every movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, and you could tell from the way his breathing quickened that he was feeling it too.
His hands slid up your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he tried to pull you closer, but you were in control now. You pressed your lips to his neck, kissing the exposed skin, feeling the tension in his body as you kissed down toward his collarbone, your fingers tangling in his shirt.
Logan groaned, his hands gripping you tighter as you moved faster, grinding against his thigh with more urgency. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable now, the pressure building with every movement, every gasp that escaped your lips.
Logan's eyes were shut tight, head thrown back against the chair, his hands gripping your waist like he was the one trying to stay grounded. But you werenât stopping, not after all the months of back-and-forth, all the moments youâd caught him watching you with that dark, unreadable look. The friction, the heat pooling between your legs, was everything youâd been waiting for, and it was clear from the roughness of his breathing that he wasnât far behind.
You pressed harder, your hips rolling against his thigh as you gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. The thin fabric of your dress had ridden up, and you knew he could feel just how soaked you were through the denim of his jeans. His hands were at your waist, digging into your skin in a way that bordered on painful but only made you push down harder, rocking your hips with more insistence.
Loganâs voice was rough when he finally spoke, his hands tightening as if he was trying to keep himself from pulling you in closer. âY/N⌠youâre playinâ with fire here,â he growled, the words thick, like he was barely holding back.
You ignored him, pressing a little harder, your lips hovering just over the edge of his jaw as you breathed, âMaybe I like the heat.â
His jaw clenched, but his hands slid up, settling just under your ribs, holding you steady as you moved. Each shift of your hips brought another groan out of him, the sound vibrating through his chest and sending a thrill straight through you. You could feel yourself getting closer, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the pressure built, the heat between your legs almost too much to bear.
âLogan,â you whispered, your hands slipping up to tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer. You could see the restraint etched across his face, the way his jaw was clenched tight, like he was struggling to keep himself from giving in. âI need you.â
His hands tensed on your waist, fingers digging in harder, his breathing growing rougher with every word that slipped from your lips. But he didnât pull away; if anything, he held you tighter, letting you grind against him, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you in a way that left you breathless, desperate.
âYou know what youâre doinâ to me?â he muttered, his voice barely more than a growl as his eyes met yours, dark and full of something youâd been longing to see for months.
âMaybe,â you replied, a small, breathless smile tugging at your lips as you kept moving, kept pressing closer, feeling the tension between you both thicken until it was almost unbearable. âMaybe I want to see how far youâll let me go.â
Logan groaned, his grip tightening as his eyes fell shut again, his hands shifting to guide your hips, helping you keep up the steady rhythm that was driving you both closer to the edge. You leaned forward again, your lips brushing against his neck, pressing soft kisses along the exposed skin as you rocked against him, the heat building with every second.
âY/N,â he rasped, his voice so low it sent a shiver through you. âYouâre⌠youâre so damnââ
You cut him off, pressing your lips to the spot just under his ear, feeling the way his breath hitched as your hips ground down harder. You were close, every nerve ending on fire, and you could feel that he was, too. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your back, pressing you closer, holding you tight like he was afraid to let go.
And then, finally, the pressure broke. You gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders as your hips stilled, your body shuddering against him. Loganâs grip on your waist tightened, his own breath hitching as he held you steady, his hands warm and solid as you rode out the waves of pleasure.
He was quiet for a long moment, his breathing heavy, and you could feel the way his body had tensed beneath you, the strain in his hands as he held himself back. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes made your breath catch all over again.
Without a word, Logan shifted, his hands sliding down to hook under your thighs as he stood, lifting you with a strength that sent another thrill through you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he carried you to the bed, the heat in his gaze leaving no room for second thoughts, no hesitation. This was it, and you were ready.
He laid you down, his hands lingering on your thighs, his fingers brushing over your skin as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of hunger and restraint. You reached up, tugging him closer until he was hovering over you, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel secure, safe.
This was what youâd been waiting for, what youâd both been skirting around for too long. Loganâs hands slid up your sides, his fingers trailing along the fabric of your dress, and you felt your breath hitch as his gaze darkened, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
His thumbs brushed the exposed skin just above the low neckline of your dress, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You watched him, eyes locked on his as he leaned in, his jaw tight, the hunger in his gaze barely restrained. The room felt smaller, warmer, like the air had thickened between you.
And then, finally, his mouth was on yours.
The kiss was desperate, wild, like he was making up for lost time. His lips claimed yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine, his hands moving to cradle your face, pulling you closer as if he couldnât stand the distance. You gasped against his mouth, your fingers finding their way into his hair, tugging him down harder.
It had been seventy-three years since heâd last kissed youânearly three quarters of a century of holding backâand the intensity of it showed. It was all-consuming, like he was trying to make up for every second heâd denied himself this.
Logan groaned into your mouth, a deep, almost pained sound, and the desperation in it made your blood race. He kissed you like he was starving, like he needed this, needed you, and you felt your body melt into him. His hands slid down your body, rough and sure, stopping at your hips to pull you flush against him. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, and the friction of his jeans against your thighs only made it worse.
You broke the kiss for air, your breaths coming fast, but Logan didnât stop. His mouth found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your throat, teeth scraping against your skin just enough to make you gasp. His hands were everywhere, tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, gripping you with a possessiveness that sent a thrill through you.
âLogan,â you whispered, your voice breathless, needy. You tilted your head back, giving him better access as his lips continued their descent, leaving a path of fire along your skin. Your hands fisted in his flannel, pulling him closer, and he groaned again, the sound vibrating through your body.
âGod, Y/N,â he rasped, his voice thick with desire, like he was barely holding on. His hands slipped under your dress, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your thighs, and you shivered, your breath catching in your throat. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with need. âYouâre gonna be the death of me,â he muttered, but the words were laced with something softer, something that made your heart skip.
You didnât reply, just pulled him down for another kiss, this one just as desperate as the first. Your hands roamed over his chest, slipping beneath the open flannel to feel the heat of his skin, the hard muscles that tensed under your touch. Logan shivered, his breath catching as your fingers brushed against his bare chest, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the way he reacted to you.
His jacket slipped from his shoulders, landing somewhere on the floor, but neither of you paid it any mind. Your hands were already pushing the flannel off him, revealing more of his skin, and Logan helped you, shrugging it off with a growl of impatience. The white beater he wore beneath clung to his chest, and you could see the way his muscles flexed beneath it, the way the fabric stretched taut over his shoulders.
He leaned back down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, and you moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders. Loganâs hands were back under your dress, sliding up, leaving trails of heat in their wake. His touch was rough, calloused, but so incredibly gentle in a way that made your heart ache. You arched into him, your body pressing closer, desperate for more, for everything he was willing to give.
âFuck,â he muttered against your mouth, his hands sliding higher until his thumbs brushed the edge of your panties. He paused, breathing heavily, his eyes searching yours, looking for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. You were all in, had been from the moment youâd first seen him.
You reached down, grabbing his wrists and guiding his hands further up, silently urging him on. Loganâs breath hitched, and his eyes darkened even more, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, and you could feel your heart pounding as he tugged, the thin fabric slipping down your legs.
"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, his voice thick with need as his calloused hands slid back up your thighs, pushing your dress higher. "You're so damn wet already."
You gasped as his fingers brushed against your center, your hips jerking up instinctively. "Logan, please," you whimpered, reaching for him.
He leaned down to kiss you hard, his tongue pushing into your mouth as his fingers began exploring you properly. The roughness of his hands contrasted with how gently he touched you, like he was afraid of breaking you. You moaned into his mouth as he slid one thick finger inside, your hands gripping his shoulders.
"That's it, darlin'," he murmured against your lips. "Let me hear you."
Your dress was bunched around your waist now as Logan worked another finger into you, stretching you carefully. Your earlier orgasm had left you sensitive, making every touch feel electric. His thumb found your clit and began rubbing slow circles that had you writhing beneath him.
"Logan," you gasped, your nails digging into his skin through his beater. "I needâah!âI need more."
He growled low in his throat, curling his fingers inside you. "Tell me what you need, Y/N. Say it."
Your face flushed but you met his eyes. "I need you inside me. Please, Logan. I've wanted this for so long."
Something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. He withdrew his fingers, making you whimper at the loss, and reached down to undo his belt. The metal clinked as he pulled it free, the sound sending a thrill through you.
You sat up enough to pull your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra. Logan's eyes raked over you hungrily as he pushed his jeans down his hips. The obvious bulge in his boxers made your mouth go dry.
"Come here," he growled, pulling you into another searing kiss as his hands found the clasp of your bra. It took him only seconds to undo it, and then you were bare before him, your nipples hardening in the cool air.
Logan's mouth moved to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks as his hands cupped your breasts. You moaned as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, your back arching into his touch.
"Fuck, you're perfect," he muttered against your skin, his voice rough. He shifted to take one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as you gasped and squirmed beneath him.
Your hands found the hem of his beater, tugging insistently until he pulled back long enough to yank it off. The sight of his bare chest, all hard muscle and dark hair, made heat pool between your legs. There were old scars scattered across his skin - remnants of wounds time hadn't quite erased.
You reached for his boxers but he caught your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand. "Not yet," he growled, his free hand sliding down between your legs again. "Want to make sure you're ready for me."
His fingers found your clit again and you cried out, oversensitive and desperate. "Logan, please," you begged, trying to buck your hips up against his hand. "I'm ready, I swear. I need you now."
He studied your face for a long moment, his eyes dark with desire, before releasing your wrists. "Take them off," he ordered, nodding to his boxers.
Your hands shook slightly as you pushed the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock. He was huge, thick and hard, already leaking at the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, and Logan's breath hitched.
"Careful, darlin'," he warned, his voice strained. "Been wanting this too long to end it early."
He pushed you back onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. The head of his cock brushed against your entrance and you both groaned. Logan braced himself on his forearms above you, his eyes locked on yours.
"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice rough but gentle. "Once I start, I don't know if I'll be able to stop."
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I'm sure. Please, Logan. I want you."
He kissed you hard as he began pushing inside, swallowing your gasps as he stretched you open. The burn was intense but perfect, your body gradually adjusting to his size. Logan moved slowly, giving you time to adapt, but you could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself back.
"Fuck," he groaned when he was finally fully seated inside you. "So tight, darlin'. Feel so good around me."
You clutched at his shoulders, panting. "Move," you urged. "Please, I needâ"
Logan pulled back and thrust forward again, setting a steady rhythm that had you seeing stars. Each stroke hit something deep inside you that made pleasure spark through your whole body. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he fucked into you with increasing force.
"That's it," he growled, watching your face contort with pleasure. "Take it, Y/N. Take all of me."
Your nails raked down his back as the pressure built inside you again. Logan's thrusts grew harder, faster, driving you both toward the edge. The headboard banged against the wall with each movement but neither of you cared about the noise.
"Logan," you gasped, feeling yourself getting close. "I'm gonnaâah!"
"Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough. One hand slid between your bodies to rub your clit. "Want to feel you come on my cock."
The added stimulation pushed you over the edge. You came with a cry, your body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Logan growled, his rhythm faltering as your walls pulsed around him.
"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his thrusts growing erratic. "Where do you wantâ"
"Inside," you gasped, still riding the aftershocks. "Please, Logan. Wanna feel you."
He cursed, his hips snapping forward a few more times before he buried himself deep with a growl, spilling inside you. You could feel him pulsing, filling you up as he collapsed onto his forearms above you.
For several long moments, the only sound was your heavy breathing. Logan's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he caught his breath. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling the sweat-slick skin under your palms.
Finally, he pulled out carefully and rolled onto his side, pulling you with him. You winced slightly at the soreness between your legs, but it was a good kind of ache. Logan's arms wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest.
---
Logan let out a low groan as he woke, the bed beneath him feeling far too comfortable, unfamiliar in a way that immediately set him on edge. It took a second for his mind to catch up, piecing together where he was and, more importantly, who he was with.
He didnât need to look over to feel the warmth beside him, or the way your hair fanned out across the pillow. It hit him all at onceâthe heat of your skin against his, the way youâd leaned into him last night, confident, unrestrained. He opened his eyes, gaze finding you lying beside him, face soft and peaceful in sleep, an arm draped over his chest as if youâd claimed him in the night.
Logan sighed, glancing at the ceiling, but couldnât help looking down at you again, still asleep and blissfully unaware of the storm in his head. Heâd known it was a bad idea from the start, coming upstairs with you last night, letting his guard down. But damn, when youâd gotten close, pushing him toward that chair with that look in your eyesâheâd been gone the second youâd touched him.
He was even further gone when he had finally kissed youâit was one of his biggest regrets the last time he had seen you back in 1943âhe never held you the way he wanted to. Too afraid that maybe he was the problem, the reason you kept on dying over and over.
And because of that, he hadnât been this close to you since 1900.
It was strange, being here like thisâletting his guard down after all those lives, all those memories of watching you fade out of his reach. A part of him had always tried to keep a distance, to save himself from the heartbreak he knew was coming. But last night⌠last night, heâd been weak.
He brushed a thumb over your arm without thinking, lost in thought. It was impossible not to wonder, with you lying beside him like this, what it would be like if this time were different. If, just once, he could hold onto you, let himself believe youâd stay.
But he knew better.
His hand lingered on your skin a moment too long, and he felt you stir, your lashes fluttering as you slowly opened your eyes. A soft smile touched your lips when you saw him, and he felt his resolve crack just a little more.
âMorninâ,â he murmured, his voice rougher than heâd meant.
âMmm,â you hummed, still sleepy, your fingers tracing a lazy pattern over his chest. âDidnât think youâd still be here.â You said it lightly, but there was a hint of something else thereârelief, maybe. âGuess I finally wore you out.â
Logan huffed, his lips tugging into a smirk. âGuess so.â
You shifted to look at him, your eyes bright with that familiar mischief. âSo, whatâs your excuse this time?â
He raised a brow. âExcuse?â
âYeah. For pulling away,â you said, your tone casual but pointed. âYouâve always got one.â
Loganâs jaw clenched slightly, and he broke eye contact, looking away. âItâs complicated, Y/N.â
You reached up, cupping his face and guiding his gaze back to you. âThatâs what you always say. Doesnât mean it has to be.â
He was silent for a moment, searching your face. He could feel the weight of his past with you, all those memories stacking up like a dam holding back a flood. But he couldnât let you in on that. Couldnât make you carry the burden of knowing youâd livedâand diedâso many times before. It was his cross to bear, not yours.
âMaybe I just donât want you getting hurt,â he finally said, his voice quieter, a touch raw.
You let out a short, incredulous laugh. âPlease, Logan. You think I donât know what Iâm doing?â
Logan just shook his head, but he couldnât help the small, amused smile that crept onto his face. âYouâre a handful, you know that?â
âIâve heard that once or twice,â you teased, running your hand along his chest. âLucky for you, I donât scare easy.â
That hint of defiance in your voice tugged at something deep inside him, and he caught your hand, holding it in his as he looked into your eyes. âYou say that now. But Iâve got a way of⌠complicating things.â
Your gaze softened, but there was still a spark there, unyielding. âGood thing I like complicated.â
Loganâs eyes darkened, and for a second, he felt that familiar pull, the urge to tell you everythingâto let you in on the truth of why he was here, why he couldnât stay away. But he stopped himself, the weight of all those lost lifetimes bearing down on him again. He couldnât do that to you, not this time.
âThen I guess Iâm stuck with you,â he said, trying to keep his tone light, even though his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.
âGuess so,â you replied with a grin, shifting closer. You tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him. âLogan?â
âYeah?â
âAre you ever gonna stop acting like youâre some kind of curse?â Your voice was soft but firm, like you were daring him to argue.
Logan went silent, his gaze flickering away from yours. Youâd hit closer to the truth than you knew.
âDonât know if I can,â he admitted after a pause. âItâs⌠complicated.â He shrugged, hoping youâd leave it at that.
But, of course, you didnât. âThen I guess Iâll just have to keep proving you wrong,â you murmured, pressing a light kiss to his jaw, a warm reassurance that only made him feel the pull of his past even stronger.
He didnât answer, just closed his eyes, letting himself savor this one small, stolen moment with you. Just this once, heâd allow himself that. Because deep down, he knew heâd always lose you in the end.
And this time, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. Maybe, just maybe, even put that ring to use.
---
You were back at the dog shelter, this time staying a little bit longer since one of the workers, Amelia, was out sick.
Lorraine handed you a few leashes, âmind taking some of âem out for a walk?â
You happily grabbed the roped leashes, âof course.â Then you glanced over at Logan, who had been eyeing the dogs with a mix of amusement and reservation. âYou up for walkinâ some too?â
He raised an eyebrow at you, then at the leashes in your hand, but there was a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. âDidnât take you for a dog wrangler, Y/N.â
You laughed, clipping one of the leashes onto a small brown mutt who was practically bouncing with excitement. âCome on, Logan. Whatâre you afraid of? They donât biteâwell, not all of them, anyway.â
Logan chuckled, reluctantly stepping forward. âRight. Long as they donât try to drag me down the street.â
You handed him a leash attached to a shaggy, medium-sized dog with big brown eyes, looking up at him expectantly. âHere. This oneâs named Ringo. Heâs a sweetheart.â
Logan eyed the dog suspiciously before giving the leash a little tug, testing the waters. âRingo, huh?â He knelt down and patted the dogâs head, a faint smile crossing his face as the dog leaned into his touch. âGuess youâre alright.â
You couldnât help but smile at the sight. âSee? He likes you already.â As you finished leashing up a few more of the dogs, you handed the leashes to Logan. âThink you can handle these guys too?â
Logan took the leashes without complaint, looking down at the little group of dogs at his feet. âGuess I donât have much choice.â
âGood answer,â you teased, giving him a wink before heading toward the door. You led the way outside, the two of you walking side-by-side with the dogs trotting happily along. It was a warm day, and the sun was shining down, casting a soft glow over everything.
Logan glanced over at you as you moved down the sidewalk together, the dogs tugging excitedly at their leashes. You had a carefree smile on your face, and he found himself watching you more than the path ahead, the memory of a few nights ago still vivid in his mind. The thought of it sent a thrill through himâyet at the same time, a pang of dread.
âYou always this happy walking dogs, or is it just âcause Iâm here?â he teased, a little smirk tugging at his lips.
You shot him a playful look. âGuess youâll never know.â You nudged him lightly with your shoulder, eyes bright with mischief. âBut if you keep coming with me, you might find out.â
He let out a small laugh, his gaze softening as he looked away. Even after all these years, you could still surprise himâlike the way youâd drag him to places like this or the way you talked about the little things with such enthusiasm. It was one of those qualities he remembered about you from lifetimes ago, and it hadnât changed. It made him feel like maybe, somehow, this was different.
As you walked a little further, one of the dogsâa scruffy little terrierâyipped and tugged at Loganâs leash, trying to chase after a pigeon. He grunted, holding the leash tightly and muttering, âSettle down, mutt. Youâre not goinâ anywhere.â
You laughed, glancing over with an amused smile. âRingoâs got more energy than youâd think, huh?â
Logan shook his head, but he couldnât help but smile. âYeah, well, maybe I should be takinâ notes from him.â He looked at you then, and his expression softened. âYouâve really got a thing for these dogs, donât ya?â
Your smile faded into something more thoughtful as you looked down at the furry pack in front of you. âI dunno. I guess theyâre just⌠easy to be around. They donât care about who my father is or what I doâthey just want someone to be with them, you know?â
Logan nodded, watching the way you interacted with the dogs, your fingers lightly brushing over their heads, your voice soft as you spoke to them. Youâd always had that kindness about you, that gentleness that made him want to believe in something better, something⌠safe.
âYouâre good with âem,â he said quietly, almost to himself.
You looked up at him, a smile in your eyes. âYou know, youâre not so bad with them either, Logan.â
He chuckled, shaking his head. âNah, I think Iâll leave the dog-wranglinâ to you.â
For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the bustling city around you fading into the background as you wandered through the neighborhood with the dogs. Finally, you reached a small park, and you stopped to let the dogs sniff around.
As they explored, you took a seat on a nearby bench, patting the spot beside you. Logan hesitated for a second before joining you, stretching his legs out in front of him.
You looked over at him, your expression soft. âThanks for coming today. I know this probably isnât your ideal way to spend an afternoon.â
Logan shrugged, trying to act casual, but he couldnât hide the warmth in his gaze. âWouldnât be here if I didnât wanna be,â he said, his voice low.
The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat, and you looked away, feeling a little bashful. You fiddled with one of the leashes, clearing your throat. âYou know⌠the more time we spend together, the more I wonder how long youâre planning to stick around.â
He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he considered his answer. He wanted to tell you the truthâthat heâd been watching you, waiting for you, for so many lifetimes. But he couldnât. Instead, he reached out, his hand covering yours where it rested on the bench.
âAs long as youâll have me,â he said quietly.
The words hung between you, and for a moment, it was like the whole world had faded away. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the depths of his expression.
A soft smile touched your lips, and you squeezed his hand. âThen youâre gonna be around for a long time, Logan.â
He felt a strange, hopeful ache in his chest at your words, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, this time, things could be different.
The dogs barked, breaking the spell, and you both laughed, pulling away as you got up to wrangle them again. But even as you continued on your walk, he stayed close by your side, his hand occasionally brushing yours as you walkedâalmost as if he was reminding himself that you were real, that you were here with him.
---
Late one night, you lay beside Logan in the dim light filtering through the window, the cityâs night sounds a steady hum in the distance. Your head rested on his chest, your fingers tracing lazy circles over the skin above his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath your touch.
Logan shifted slightly, his hand coming up to rest gently on your back. For a long time, he just lay there, watching you in silence, his thumb brushing along your spine. You could tell he was relaxed, but there was something elseâa quiet intensity in the way his gaze lingered on you, a heaviness in the air that made your heart race.
âWhatâre you thinkinâ about?â you murmured, letting your fingers trail up to his collarbone. You glanced up at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile as he met your eyes.
âJust⌠wonderinâ how I got roped into all this,â he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. But the glint in his eyes gave him away, and you saw something softer there.
âYeah? Doesnât seem like you mind too much.â You smirked, giving his chest a light pat. âIâd almost say youâre gettinâ attached.â
He snorted, pulling you a little closer, his arm tightening around you. âCould say the same for you,â he replied, his voice low, almost teasing. âYouâre insatiable, yâknow that?â
You laughed, and the sound was soft in the quiet room. âYouâre the one who keeps showinâ up, Logan. If you wanted me to behave, youâd stay away.â
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. âMaybe I donât want you to behave.â
Your fingers stilled on his chest, and you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. âSo you like me like this, then? A little reckless⌠a little spoiled?â you teased.
He chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at you. âYeah,â he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. âThink I do.â
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you settled back against his chest, letting your hand rest over his heart. For a while, neither of you said anything, the silence comfortable, his warmth grounding you. It was a rare kind of peaceâone that youâd come to cherish whenever you were with him.
But then, curiosity got the better of you, and you lifted your head, giving him a thoughtful look. âLogan,â you began, your voice hesitant. âHow long are you gonna stick around? I mean⌠I know my dad thinks youâre just here for protection, but⌠it feels like more than that.â
Loganâs gaze darkened, a flash of something unreadable passing over his face. He glanced away, his jaw tensing as he seemed to search for the right words. âAs long as you want me here, Iâm not goinâ anywhere.â
The weight of his words hung between you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. âThen donât,â you whispered, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. âI donât want you to.â
He didnât say anything in response, but his hand slipped up to cup the back of your head, pulling you down into a slow, lingering kiss. There was something different about it this time, a quiet desperation that made your pulse quicken, like he was trying to hold on to this moment, to keep it from slipping away.
When you finally pulled back, you searched his eyes, wondering what was going through his mind. âYouâre not gonna let me go, are you?â
A small smile tugged at his lips, though his gaze was still shadowed. âNot a chance, darlinâ.â
You felt a surge of affection for him then, this man whoâd somehow become both your protector and your closest confidant. He was rough around the edges, guarded and distant with everyone elseâbut with you, he was different. You brought out a softness in him, a warmth that felt as though it had been buried for a long, long time.
Without thinking, you reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, your fingertips lingering against his skin. âYou know, for a guy whoâs supposed to be my bodyguard, youâre doing a terrible job at keeping things professional,â you teased, though there was no bite in your words.
Logan let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. âYouâre the one makinâ things complicated, Y/N.â
âMaybe.â You smirked, your fingers still tracing over his chest. âBut you donât seem to mind.â
He looked at you then, something fierce in his eyes, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of the man heâd beenâa man whoâd loved and lost, whoâd carried scars from lifetimes past. You wondered if he would ever tell you his story, if he would ever let you in on the secrets he guarded so closely.
But for now, you were content with the silence, with the feel of his heartbeat beneath your hand, with the quiet reassurance that he wasnât going anywhere.
As the night wore on, you lay there together, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.
---
Your father had asked you to come to his office in the spacious house. At first it was nothing but muffled voices from outside the door, until Logan heard your father speak again, for a longer period of time, causing your own voice to rise.
While Logan couldnât make out the words you were saying even with his enhanced hearing, he could tell you werenât happy. Your voice carried that sharp edge you only got when something really struck a nerve, and judging by the way you didnât hold back, it had to be serious.
Logan lingered just outside the heavy, mahogany door of your fatherâs office, his fists clenched as he heard your voice rising behind it. It was clear you were upset, and whatever was being discussed inside, you didnât like it. Heâd seen you frustrated, angry even, but never like thisâthere was a desperation in your tone that sent a chill through him.
Moments later, the door flew open, and you stormed out, cheeks flushed with anger, eyes flashing as you spotted him. You barely paused, brushing past him, but Logan caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.
âY/N,â he said, his voice low. âWhat happened?â
You turned to face him, anger and hurt swirling in your eyes. âHeâs⌠heâs marrying me off, Logan. To that family. After everything he promised meâhe said heâd never force me into something like this.â
Loganâs expression hardened. âWhat are you talkinâ about? He canât just⌠marry you off like some kind of deal.â
Your hands were shaking as you brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, struggling to keep your composure. âApparently, he can. Thereâs been this feud with the Romano family for years, and he says this is the only way to keep the peace. To protect me. Protect us.â
Loganâs jaw clenched. He felt a familiar anger rising in him, a deep, protective instinct heâd been fighting to keep under wraps. âSo, heâs just gonna throw you into a marriage you donât want? You donât even know this guy, do you?â
You shook your head, looking away. âI met him once. He was⌠polite enough. But thatâs not the point, Logan. I donât want to marry himâor anyone like this. My father always said heâd let me choose, that he wouldnât⌠sell me off.â The bitterness in your tone stung, your gaze distant as if replaying the conversation.
Logan searched your face, feeling an ache he couldnât put into words. âAnd he knows how you feel about this?â
You swallowed, nodding. âI told him, but he says I donât understand the bigger picture, that this is whatâs best for everyone.â You gave a hollow laugh, looking down. âFor everyone but me.â
He felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was just a bodyguard, technically part of the arrangement meant to keep you safe from any threats. But you were more than just a job to him, and the thought of you being forced into something like this made his blood boil. He let out a rough breath, stepping closer. âY/N, you donât have to go along with this. Not if you donât want to.â
Your gaze softened as you looked up at him. âAnd what am I supposed to do, Logan? Run off in the middle of the night?â You gave a small, bitter smile. âI donât even know where Iâd go.â
He didnât hesitate, his voice dropping low. âThen we go together. If you donât wanna go through with this, weâll figure somethinâ else out.â
Your breath hitched at his words, and for a moment, the anger and hurt seemed to fade, replaced by something warmer, more uncertain. âYouâd really⌠leave everything?â
He shrugged, almost nonchalant, but there was a fierce determination in his eyes. âI got no reason to stay here if youâre not here, too.â
You hesitated, torn between the depth of his offer and the weight of the decision you knew would follow. Finally, you gave a small nod, as if grounding yourself in the moment. âI donât know whatâs gonna happen, Logan, but⌠I just need to know youâre here. That Iâm not going through this alone.â
He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. âIâm not goinâ anywhere, Y/N. You got my word on that.â
There was a silence between you, thick and charged, each of you processing the weight of everything unsaid. His gaze stayed locked on yours, and for a moment, the anger and fear in your eyes softened, replaced by something closer to relief. And then, almost impulsively, you took his hand, squeezing it tight.
âThank you, Logan. I⌠I needed to hear that,â you said softly, glancing away before meeting his gaze again, vulnerability written all over your face. âJust⌠donât let go, okay?â
He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his voice barely above a whisper. âNot a chance, darlinâ.â
---
Nancy was doing your hair once again for the dinner with the Romano family. You had tried everything over the past few weeks, trying to convince your father that this didnât have to happen. That he promised you he would never do this.
But no matter what you did, he was firm in his stance, "you're getting married to Clyde, and that's final."
You sat still, staring at your reflection in the mirror as Nancy pinned up the last of your curls. Your face looked composed, serene even, but beneath it, there was a storm brewingâa knot of anger and dread you couldnât shake. Every time you thought about that dinner tonight, your stomach twisted. Clyde Romano. A stranger. And yet, your father had decided this was your future, and nothing you said seemed to change his mind.
Nancy, sensing the tension, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Itâll be alright, Y/N. Youâll be surrounded by family."
Family. Right. But none of them seemed to understand how trapped you felt. You forced a tight-lipped smile, nodding. "Thanks, Nancy."
As she stepped back, there was a light knock at the door. You turned to see Logan standing there, looking slightly uncomfortable in his formal attire but as steadfast as ever. His gaze softened as he took in your appearance, though he quickly masked it.
"Didnât mean to interrupt," he said, glancing between you and Nancy. "Just wanted to make sure youâre ready."
Nancy finished adjusting your hair and excused herself, leaving you alone with Logan. You looked at him, searching his face, hoping for some kind of lifeline.
"Logan," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like Iâm being dragged somewhere I canât escape from."
He stepped closer, his expression darkening as he listened. âYouâre not alone in this, Y/N. You know Iâm with you, whatever you decide.â His hand reached out, brushing against your arm, his touch grounding you.
You drew in a shaky breath, steadying yourself. âWhat if I decide to just⌠disappear?â you asked, half-joking but mostly serious.
Loganâs eyes met yours, and you saw the unspoken resolve there. âThen Iâll be right behind you. Doesnât matter where.â
For a moment, you let yourself believe itâthat you could simply run, with Logan at your side. But reality crashed back in, and you dropped your gaze.
"I wish it were that simple," you whispered, clenching your fists. "But if I leave, it could tear everything apart."
Loganâs hand settled over yours, his grip firm and reassuring. "Then we make it through tonight. And tomorrow, we figure out the rest. Youâre not facing this alone, darlinâ. Not as long as Iâm here."
You looked up at him, finding strength in his gaze. Heâd been your rock through all of this, his presence steady and unwavering. And tonight, that was what you needed most.
âAlright,â you murmured, giving him a small, grateful smile. âLetâs go face this⌠together.â
He nodded, his grip on your hand a silent promise. Whatever came next, you knew heâd be there, just as he always had been. And with that thought, you found the courage to head downstairs to face your familyâand the Romanosâone more time.
---
The dinner was at an Italian restaurant, one your father owned as cover for his business. Your dad sat at the head of the table while Clydeâs father sat at the other end. In front of you was your uncle Ermanno, who was also your dadâs consigliere, while Clyde sat next to you.
Logan, along with the other bodyguards, stood watch at the entrance of the private dining room, their silent gazes sweeping the place. He wore his usual hard expression, though his eyes softened just a touch when they found you across the room. Heâd been watching you all nightâcatching every little shift, each moment you looked down or forced a smile, every subtle tightening of your hand on the tablecloth.
Clyde Romano leaned in a little closer, his arm casually brushing against yours as he tried to make small talk. "So, Y/N, I hear youâve been helping out at a shelter?"
You nodded, barely meeting his eyes. âYeah, I volunteer with the dogs mostly. ItâsâŚnice to get away from all this sometimes.â You forced a smile, trying to keep things polite. You could feel your fatherâs gaze on you, watching for any misstep.
Clyde smiled back, but it felt too rehearsed. âWell, once weâre married, you wonât have to worry about shelters or anything like that. Youâll have enough responsibilities as a Romano.â
You felt your stomach twist at his words. Loganâs gaze sharpened from across the room as he picked up on the slight shift in your expression. You shot him a quick look, your eyes pleading for any kind of rescue. Loganâs jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, he almost looked like heâd step in. But he stayed put, his hands clenched behind his back.
Instead, he looked for the smallest opening. Just as Clydeâs attention was pulled away by his father, Logan slipped into view, leaning down beside you. âYou alright?â he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.
âNot even close,â you whispered back, your eyes fixed on your glass. âHeâs already talking about our future like⌠like itâs set in stone.â
Loganâs eyes flickered with something fierce. âWeâll get through this, Y/N. Tonightâs just another show. Nothing more.â His fingers brushed the back of your chair, the barely-there touch sending a wave of calm through you.
But Clydeâs voice cut back in before Logan could say anything more. âY/N, we were thinking of heading to Italy for the honeymoon. Itâll be a good chance to meet the rest of the family there.â
Your heart sank further. Italy. An entire ocean away, away from everything you knew, from everyone who mattered to you. âItaly,â you echoed, your voice strained but steady.
âYeah. The Romano estates are beautifulâbeaches, vineyards⌠a real paradise.â He seemed oblivious to your hesitation, already dreaming up plans youâd had no say in. Your father looked pleased, nodding his approval from his end of the table.
Logan straightened, but the look he gave you was unmistakable: You donât have to do this.
You swallowed, shifting in your seat as Clyde rambled on. When his focus shifted to his own father again, you leaned back just enough to whisper to Logan, âIâm not sure I can keep pretending.â
Loganâs expression softened, and for a second, he let a hint of his guard down. âYou donât have to, darlinâ.â His voice was low, almost tender, meant for you alone. âSay the word, and we walk outta here. Right now.â
The thought made your heart skip, but your gaze drifted toward your father, seated across the table with a look of satisfaction. Leaving wasnât just about you; it would mean defying him, challenging the life heâd molded for you. The thought felt like a mountain on your shoulders.
âI canât just walk away,â you said quietly. âHeâs⌠heâd never forgive me.â
Loganâs hand brushed yours under the table, a quiet show of support. âMaybe heâs the one who should be asking for forgiveness,â he murmured, his thumb tracing a light circle over your knuckles. The warmth of his touch settled something in you, steadying your breath.
You gave a tiny nod, squeezing his hand for just a second before pulling away. Logan straightened, stepping back to his post but still keeping his gaze on you. Clyde was oblivious, caught up in a conversation with his father about future business plans, each word feeling like a nail in the coffin.
Dinner dragged on, a blur of forced laughter and stiff conversation. Every time you felt yourself sinking, you looked toward Logan. He was there, solid and watchful, like a silent promise of something real in a room full of facades.
Eventually, the families began to wind down, talk shifting to more casual chatter. Clyde, emboldened by the nightâs success, reached over and took your hand, his grip possessive. âSoon, youâll be part of the family, Y/N. Youâll see. Youâll come to love it.â
Your mind screamed at the thought, every fiber of you wanting to pull away. But you held still, not daring to make a scene. Loganâs gaze narrowed, his jaw set as he took in the sight of Clydeâs hand around yours.
Finally, as the night came to an end and the families started to stand, Clyde leaned in with a smug smile. âReady to go? I thought weâd take a walk, just the two of us.â
Before you could answer, Logan was there, stepping in with a casual yet firm presence. âMr. Romano,â he said, addressing Clyde but looking right at you, âyour father asked to speak with you in private before you head out.â
Clyde frowned but nodded, reluctantly releasing your hand. âIâll be back soon, Y/N.â He disappeared toward the far end of the room, leaving you alone with Logan.
You let out a slow breath, the tension finally loosening from your shoulders. âThank you,â you whispered, looking up at him, gratitude spilling from every word.
Logan gave a slight nod. âCouldnât let him drag you out there without a say.â His voice was rough, but his eyes softened as he held your gaze. âYouâre not alone in this, Y/N. Whatever happens⌠you got me.â
The weight of the night lifted just a little, and for a moment, you almost believed you had a choice in all of this.
---
âA week?â you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood in your fatherâs office. The weight of the word seemed to pull you under, even as you fought to keep your voice steady.
Your fatherâs expression was impassive, arms crossed as he looked at you. âYes, Y/N. The Romano family wants to move quickly. They think itâs best, and I agree. Itâs time you take on this responsibility for the family.â
Your jaw clenched. You remembered the promises he made, back when you were younger, that heâd never force you into something like this. âI just⌠I donât understand. You always saidââ
âPeople change, Y/N,â he interrupted, his tone firm. âThis is whatâs best for you and for us. For the family.â
You shook your head, feeling a rush of helplessness. âAnd what about what I want? Iâve been trying to tell you for weeks that I donât want this, and youâre not listening.â
He exhaled sharply, the kind of sigh that signaled his patience was running thin. âThis isnât about what you want. I didnât raise you to be selfish.â
âSelfish?â The word stung, and you couldnât help the surge of anger that rose within you. âIâm asking for my life. How is that selfish?â
He frowned, unyielding. âEnough, Y/N. This is happening. Weâre done discussing it.â
Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay composed. The walls of the office seemed to close in on you, the reality of it settling heavy and cold. You had a weekâseven daysâto either submit to this life heâd chosen for you or⌠what? You didnât even know.
Without another word, you turned and left, fighting the urge to slam the door behind you. The hall felt stifling as you walked out, your thoughts churning.
When you reached your room, Logan was there, waiting. The moment he saw your face, he stiffened. âWhat happened?â His voice was a low rumble, the concern clear.
âA week,â you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. âI have a week before he marries me off to Clyde.â
Loganâs jaw tightened, and you could see the flash of anger in his eyes. He stepped closer, his hand moving to rest on your shoulder. âSo thatâs it, then? Heâs just⌠throwing you to that bastard?â
You nodded, the words catching in your throat. âI donât know what to do, Logan. I tried everything, but he wonât listen. Heâs set on it.â
Loganâs hand slipped down, finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze, his rough fingers warm and grounding. You tightened your grip, the frustration and helplessness boiling inside you finally having somewhere to go.
âIâm supposed to just go along with it,â you muttered, bitterness seeping into your words. âAct like Iâm thrilled to be Clydeâs obedient little wife. Like my lifeâs just⌠his to take.â
Loganâs gaze darkened. âItâs not. You know that. And anyone who tries to take it without your say? They got me to deal with.â His voice was low and dangerous, a promise just for you.
You looked up, searching his face, a flicker of hope stirring. âBut what can we do, Logan? Heâs not going to listen to me. And if I push back too hard⌠I donât know what heâll do.â
âThen let me get you out of here,â Logan said, leaning in closer. His voice softened, gentler now. âWe can leave, right now if you want. Just say the word.â
Your heart twisted painfully, the temptation so fierce you almost said yes then and there. But reality clawed its way back, the weight of your fatherâs expectations and the tight grip he kept on every part of your life. Leaving would mean giving up everythingâand, deep down, you werenât sure you could risk it.
âWhat about my dad?â you whispered, feeling the weight of it pressing down again. âHeâs⌠heâd see it as betrayal, Logan. And what if he goes after you?â
A flicker of something familiar crossed Loganâs face, a shadow from a life you couldnât remember but that he clearly did. âY/N, donât worry about me,â he murmured. âBeen through worse.â He squeezed your hand a little tighter, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture so tender it nearly undid you. âAnd if heâs got a problem, then he can take it up with me.â
You let out a shaky breath, feeling the anger and fear give way just a bit. âYou say that now, but you havenât seen how he gets when people cross him. Heâd never forgive me, Logan. Heâd never forgive us.â
Loganâs hand moved to cup your face, his touch steadying you as his eyes met yours. âThen we donât need his forgiveness. We get you out, and I keep you safe. Whatever comes after, we face it together.â
The fierce certainty in his voice sent a warmth flooding through you, your resolve hardening under his gaze. âBut Clyde, the Romanoâs⌠they wonât just let it go.â
A smirk tugged at Loganâs mouth, the edge of defiance clear. âThen theyâll learn what happens when they mess with you. Ainât nobodyâs right to take away your freedom, Y/N. Not your old man, not Clyde, not anyone.â
A beat of silence stretched between you, his hand still warm against your cheek. Your fingers tightened around his, and for a second, all the anger and dread faded, leaving just you and him in the quiet of the room.
âWhat about⌠us?â The words slipped out before you could stop them, and for a second, you held your breath, waiting for his reaction.
Loganâs eyes softened, his gaze never leaving yours. âWhat about us, darlinâ?â He brushed a thumb along your cheek, his voice dropping to a low murmur. âYou think Iâd just leave you here to face this on your own?â
His words sent a rush of warmth through you, and before you knew it, you were leaning into him, his presence steady and unshakable. He let out a low sigh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, his other hand tracing gentle circles over your back.
âYouâre all Iâve got in this,â you whispered, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. âI canât lose you, too.â
âYou wonât,â he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his hold tightening just enough to reassure you. âNot now, not ever.â
You stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in his embrace, the weight of everything slipping away in his arms. But eventually, reality crept back in, and you pulled back, catching the flicker of resolve in his gaze.
âIf we do thisâŚâ You paused, steadying yourself. âIf we leave, we need a plan.â
Logan gave a small nod, his hand still resting on yours. âWeâll figure it out. Tonight, weâre just gettinâ you through this.â
It was a promise, simple and unbreakable, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope stirring deep inside you.
---
The rehearsal dinner was held in a private room at the church a few days later; a grand, echoing place with gilded walls and tall stained-glass windows that cast colored light over everything. Clyde, his parents, and your family were all gathered, discussing wedding arrangements like it was a done deal, each word chipping away at any illusion of control you had left.
Logan and the other bodyguards stood at a respectful distance, keeping watch. He tried to keep his gaze neutral, but his eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, catching every forced smile and stiff nod you gave.
As the minister went through the motions, you and Clyde practiced exchanging vows. You held his hands, repeating words that felt like a foreign languageâlifeless, meaningless. Your eyes drifted toward Logan, and he gave you the barest nod, grounding you with that single, unspoken promise.
After the vows, Clyde leaned in close, his voice low and smug. âI think youâll come to love our life together, Y/N. Just give it time.â
You forced a polite smile, biting back the words you wanted to say. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan clench his fists, his face darkening.
Finally, as the rehearsal ended and people began drifting off, you made your way to a quiet corner, needing a moment alone. Logan slipped over to you, his movements subtle as he came to stand beside you.
âAre you alright?â he asked, his voice softer now that it was just the two of you.
You shook your head, feeling that familiar knot of dread twist tighter. âLogan, I donât think I can go through with this. But I donât know if I can run, either. Iâm⌠ Iâm stuck.â
He took a deep breath, his gaze intense as he looked down at you. âWhat if I told you that you didnât have to decide tonight?â he asked quietly. âThat we could just⌠take it one day at a time. You donât have to have all the answers right now.â
The tension in your shoulders eased a bit, and you met his eyes, finding strength in the certainty there. He wasnât pushing you, wasnât forcing anything on you. He was just⌠here, with you, in whatever way you needed.
âOkay,â you whispered, nodding slowly. âOne day at a time.â
Logan gave a small, reassuring smile. âThatâs all we need, darlinâ.â His hand brushed your shoulder, lingering just a second longer than necessary before he stepped back.
---
The day of the wedding had arrived, and you were dolled up, your makeup and hair were perfect, and your wedding dress was heavy, constricting, and large.
Once the makeup artists and hair stylists left, you had fled to the bathroom in the bridal suite and were currently hunched over the toilet. You hadnât thrown upâyetâbut you could feel the nausea and anxiousness rising.
You braced yourself against the counter, taking deep breaths as you tried to calm the twisting feeling in your stomach. The dress felt like a vice, heavy and restrictive, pressing on every nerve, suffocating in a way that went beyond fabric and lace. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping the queasiness would pass.
A knock at the door pulled you from the spinning in your head.
âY/N?â Nancyâs soft, steady voice filtered through, full of that motherly concern youâd come to rely on all your life.
You took a steadying breath, swallowing hard before calling out, âCome in, Nancy.â
The door creaked open, and Nancy stepped inside, closing it quietly behind her. Her gaze immediately softened as she took in the look on your face, her expression a mix of sympathy and something elseâresolve, maybe.
âOh, cara mia,â she murmured, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. âYou donât look well. This whole businessâitâs too much, isnât it?â
You managed a shaky nod. âI⌠I donât know if I can do this, Nancy. Every time I think about it, I justâŚâ You trailed off, not sure how to put into words the suffocating dread that had settled over you.
She gave you a small, encouraging squeeze. âYou know,â she said quietly, âthere are other paths besides the one your father chose for you. And you donât have to walk it alone.â
Your heart skipped at her words. âYou⌠youâd help me? Even if IâŚ?â
Nancy nodded, a spark of fierce protectiveness in her eyes. âLoganâs already got your things in his car,â she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. âIf youâre ready to go, heâs waiting.â
You blinked back tears before grabbing one of her hands, ây- you want me to go?â
âSĂ. Your father is a bastardo, breaking that promise him and your mother made.â She squeezed your hand, âLoganâs a good man. Iâve seen the way he looks at you. He wonât let you down.â
You swallowed hard, Nancyâs words settling like a quiet fire in your chest. She was right. Your father had broken his promise, and you didnât owe him your life just because he controlled every other part of it.
With a shaky exhale, you gave her a nod. âAlright⌠Iâll go.â
Nancyâs face softened, relief mingling with pride. âGood girl. Now, take this.â She pressed a small envelope into your hand. âCash. Just in case.â
You looked down at it, blinking back tears. âThank you, Nancy. For everything.â
She pulled you into a hug, her hand stroking your back gently. âGo, cara mia. Go live your life.â She pulled back, eyes glinting with fierce determination. âAnd donât look back.â
You nodded, holding onto that resolve as you slipped out of the bathroom and made your way down the hall, heart pounding. Every step felt heavier, weighed down by fear and the voice in the back of your mind that told you this was dangerous, reckless. But when you stepped outside and saw Logan waiting by his car, the weight lifted.
He looked up, his gaze intense but soft, like heâd been waiting for this moment just as long as you had. âYou ready?â
You hesitated, just for a moment, before giving him a small nod. âYeah. Letâs get out of here.â
Logan opened the passenger door for you, helping you in, his hand lingering on yours for a second longer than necessary. He closed the door, then climbed into the driverâs seat, starting the engine with a low rumble that matched the pulse pounding in your ears.
As he pulled out of the churchâs parking lot, the weight of the decision hit you again. You were leaving everything behindâthe security, the expectations, the people whoâd shaped your entire life. But with each passing second, the fear melted away, replaced by a strange, liberating sense of excitement.
Logan glanced over, noticing the small smile tugging at your lips. âYou donât look so panicked now.â
You shook your head, unable to hide your grin. âIâm not. Not with you here.â
He gave a soft chuckle, that familiar warmth in his gaze. âGood. Because weâve got a long drive ahead of us.â
You settled back, feeling more at ease than youâd felt in months. There was silence for a moment, comfortable and charged, before you turned to him, voice barely a whisper.
âWhere are we going?â
Logan smirked. âAnywhere but here.â
You laughed softly, relaxing into your seat. The road stretched ahead, open and endless, and for the first time in a long while, the future felt like something you could shape.
logan is 141 years old and reader is around 23-25 years old
what!? is that a happy ending? who would've thought... next up, is origins!
480 notes
¡
View notes