#I need tags for this I’m going to make everyone read my thoughts they didn’t ask for
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mcrdvcks · 1 month ago
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Dumb & Poetic
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Summary: You like Logan, but he likes Jean. Right?
Word Count: 6k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader
Notes: honestly, this isn't one of my favorites, but i just needed to write it to get it out of my head.
also, this is after the sabrina carpenter song, but this story has no relation to the lyrics whatsoever, i just thought the title was fitting
reader's powers are manipulating atoms (it'll make sense when you read)
warnings/tags: some uses of y/n, pet name (princess, sweetheart), miscommunication, light violence, blood, implied age gap
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Even after going on ten missions and counting, you always found yourself nervous. Especially when you were getting onto the Blackbird, clad in your matching suits. The hum of the jet’s engines filled the air, but your mind was on Logan. He sat across from you, legs spread out, arms crossed over his chest, that usual scowl on his face. It was the way he always looked before a mission, but you couldn’t help but glance over a little too often.
Ororo slid into the seat next to you, her sharp eyes catching your lingering stare. “You know,” she said softly, leaning over slightly, “if you keep looking at him like that, you might as well say something.”
You blinked, face heating up. “What? I wasn’t—”
“Oh, please, Y/N,” Ororo chuckled under her breath. “I’m not blind.”
You sighed and slouched back into your seat, fiddling with the straps. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s Logan,” Ororo shrugged. “Everything about him is complicated. But that doesn’t mean you should hold back.”
You cast another glance across the cabin at him. Logan was still quiet, staring out the window now, completely unaware of the butterflies flipping around in your stomach. You didn’t want to admit it, but Ororo was right. There was something about Logan that made you pause. Maybe it was the way he always seemed to be in his own world, like he was still holding onto things from his past. Or maybe it was because of the way he looked at Jean sometimes, like there was still something unresolved there.
“I don’t think he’s over her,” you murmured, feeling the familiar weight of doubt settle in.
“Jean?” Ororo raised an eyebrow. “Please, Jean and Scott are practically married. Logan isn’t hung up on her anymore. If anything, he’s just... Logan.”
You nodded, but the doubt still lingered. It was hard to let yourself hope for something that seemed impossible. Besides, Logan saw you as the kid, didn’t he? He always called you ‘princess’ or ‘sweetheart’- terms of endearment, sure, but you figured he used them with everyone.
Before you could dwell on it any longer, Hank’s voice came over the intercom, snapping everyone to attention. “We’re approaching the target. This should be a routine recon and hopefully data extraction but keep your guard up.”
Logan stood, moving to the front of the cabin. “You heard him. We get in, get the intel, and get out. No heroics.”
You stood with Ororo, adjusting your gloves and trying to ignore the fact that your heart rate had picked up. It wasn’t the mission that had you on edge, but Logan’s presence, the way he effortlessly took command of the room. You hated how easily he affected you.
The Blackbird landed with a soft jolt, and the team moved into action. Logan gave you a nod as you passed, and you swore you saw something in his eyes—concern? Or maybe you were just seeing what you wanted to see.
As the team fanned out, you stayed close to Jean and Scott, your senses heightened. You were supposed to keep it simple, in and out. But things rarely went that smoothly.
A flicker of movement caught your eye just as Jean’s telepathy brushed against your mind. Y/N, we’re not alone. Be ready.
And then all hell broke loose.
Explosions rocked the compound as enemies swarmed in from every direction. You threw up your hands, quickly manipulating the air around you, converting oxygen molecules to corrosive acids to fend off the attackers. Beside you, Scott fired his optic blasts, and Jean’s telekinesis sent debris flying.
You ducked behind a large pole of concrete, peeking out at the attackers behind you. “Alchemy, think you can get to the data room and get what we came for?” Hank asked over comms, as he and Logan fought a group of attackers.
You took a deep breath and peeked out at the attackers. "I’ll do my best, Hank," you responded, scanning for a clear path to the data room. The explosions and gunfire made it difficult to focus, but you knew you had to move.
“Cover her!” Logan’s voice barked out, and you felt a small surge of determination. He was counting on you. The team was counting on you. It was almost too much pressure to bear.
Ororo and Jean moved to provide cover as you darted toward the entrance of the data room. You manipulated the chemicals in the air around you, creating a thick fog to obscure the attackers' vision, but it wouldn’t last long.
You slipped into the room and immediately went to work on the computer, fingers flying over the keyboard. The download started, but it was slow, and you could hear the chaos outside intensifying.
“Hurry it up, Alchemy!” Scott’s voice came over the comms, tension clear in his tone.
“Almost there,” you muttered, eyes glued to the screen. The progress bar crept forward, painfully slow. You glanced over your shoulder, half expecting an attacker to burst through the door at any moment.
A loud crash echoed through the room as part of the hallway imploded, sending dust and debris flying. You ducked, covering your head with your arms as the force of the blast knocked you off balance. The data was still downloading—just a few more seconds. But the chaos outside was getting worse.
"Y/N!" Logan's voice crackled through the comms, barely audible over the noise. "Get out of there, now!"
"Almost done!" you yelled back, heart pounding. The progress bar was at 95%. You just needed a little more time.
Another explosion rocked the compound, and you heard Logan shout something to the others. You could hear gunfire and the clash of metal against metal as the team fought off the attackers. Every second felt like an eternity.
"Got it!" you exclaimed as the download completed. You yanked the USB drive from the computer and turned to make your escape. You entered the open area where the rest of the team was fighting, just as part of the ceiling fell. Instinctively, you raised your hands and quickly converted the falling cement into water, which drenched you from head to toe.
You grimaced, pushing your wet hair from your face, but there was no time to focus on the discomfort. The fight was still raging, and Logan’s voice crackled over the comms again, "Princess, get out of there. Now."
“On my way!” you shouted, breaking into a sprint to rejoin the team. You dodged debris, your heartbeat in your ears, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
As you rounded the corner, Scott called out through comms, “everyone get dow- ”
Before you could react or shield yourself, a blast came from all around you, an explosion of some kind. You watched as Logan tackled Jean to the ground, shielding her. It was instinctual, he was only protecting a teammate, and Jean was the closest one to him. At least, that’s what you told yourself to feel better.
You hit the ground hard, your body skidding across the concrete before colliding with a pile of debris. Pain exploded in your side as you groaned, gasping for breath. Dazed, you tried to push yourself up, but your vision swam.
Your hand came down to your side, fingers grazing the sticky warmth on your glove. It wasn’t the water from earlier—you knew that now. The sharp pain spreading through your body confirmed it. You blinked, vision blurring for a second, but your focus quickly snapped back as your instincts kicked in.
"Princess, come in! Y/N!" Logan’s voice crackled over the comms, but it sounded distant, like he was yelling from the other side of a tunnel.
“I’m fine,” you groaned, struggling to push yourself to your feet. Your side screamed in protest, but you forced yourself to ignore it. You couldn’t afford to be down for long. Not when everything around you was falling apart.
You looked up to see Logan pulling Jean to her feet, his eyes scanning the battlefield before locking onto you. For a split second, his eyes widened, and then his expression darkened.
“Stay where you are,” Logan barked, already moving toward you, cutting through the debris and chaos like a force of nature. His claws were out, gleaming even in the dim light, but it wasn’t the enemies he was focused on. It was you.
“I’m fine,” you repeated, though the words felt weaker this time. The pain was growing worse, and you stumbled as you tried to take a step forward.
Logan was in front of you in an instant, his hands on your shoulders, steadying you before you could fall. “You’re not fine,” he growled, his voice low and rough. He looked down at your side, and his lips pressed into a tight line. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch,” you lied, even as the pain in your side flared again, making it harder to breathe. You tried to step back, to shake off his hands, but Logan wouldn’t let you move.
“You are not fine,” Logan repeated, his eyes dark as they focused on the piece of metal lodged in your side. His hand hovered over it, the blood seeping from the wound making his jaw clench.
“Logan, seriously,” you breathed out, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
You tried to brush him off, to act like the sharp, burning pain radiating from your side wasn’t there, but Logan’s hands didn’t move from your shoulders. His grip was firm, almost like he was grounding you.
“Stop lying to me, Princess,” he growled softly, his eyes flicking from your face to the metal in your side. “It’s not nothing. I can smell the blood.”
The way he said it made your face flush, and for a second, you didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t just annoyed; he was worried. It was written all over his face, in the tension of his body, in the way his claws were still out, ready to strike at anything that came near.
“Logan- ” you started, but he cut you off.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, his voice low but commanding. “I’m getting this out.”
He knelt down in front of you, his large hands gently holding your waist. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine despite the situation. You bit your lip, trying to focus on something- anything- other than the way his hands felt on you.
“This is gonna hurt,” he warned, glancing up at you. His eyes softened just a bit, as if he was trying to reassure you.
“I’ll be fine,” you muttered, though the knot of anxiety tightened in your stomach. It wasn’t the pain you were worried about.
Logan gave you a quick nod, then, with a sharp tug, he pulled the metal shard from your side. You bit down on a groan, your vision blurring for a moment as the pain shot through you. The wound was deeper than you’d realized, and the blood quickly soaked through your suit.
“Damn it,” Logan muttered under his breath, pressing his hand against your side to try and stop the bleeding. “We need to get you back to the jet. You’re losing too much blood.”
“I can handle it,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to stand up straighter. “We still have enemies out there. I’m not leaving the fight.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “The hell you aren’t.”
You tried to argue, but the pain flared again, and your vision swam. You stumbled, and Logan caught you easily, pulling you against him.
“Stubborn,” he muttered, his voice close to your ear now. “You’re as bad as me.”
“I learned from the best,” you said, trying to force a smile through the pain. But it was hard to keep the act up when your body was screaming at you to lie down, to rest.
Logan’s grip tightened on you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into him. His body was solid and warm, and despite the chaos around you, there was something comforting about his presence.
“We’re getting you back to the jet, sweetheart,” Logan said, his voice soft but firm. “You’re not staying out here like this.”
“But- ” you started to protest, but Logan cut you off again.
“No ‘buts,’ princess. You’re hurt. Let the rest of us handle it.”
Before you could argue again, he gently but firmly hoisted you up into his arms. The movement made your side burn, but you were too stunned by the fact that Logan was carrying you to care.
“Logan, put me down,” you said, your face heating up in embarrassment. “I can walk.”
“Not happening,” he grunted, his arms strong and steady around you. “You can yell at me later if you want. Right now, we’re getting you patched up.”
You looked up at him, your heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. His face was set in that familiar scowl, but there was something else in his eyes. Concern? Maybe even fear?
“Logan, I’m fine,” you tried again, but your voice was weaker this time. The truth was, you were exhausted. The adrenaline was fading, and the pain was becoming harder to ignore.
Logan didn’t respond, his jaw tight as he carried you through the debris and chaos. You caught sight of Ororo and Scott still fighting off the last of the enemies, and Jean was using her telekinesis to hold back another explosion.
“Y/N, are you alright?” Jean’s voice cut through the noise, her eyes widening as she saw you in Logan’s arms.
“She’s hurt,” Logan said, not stopping as he headed for the jet. “I’m getting her out of here.”
Jean looked like she wanted to protest, but she gave a quick nod, her focus shifting back to the battle. “Go. We’ll finish up here.”
As Logan carried you back to the Blackbird, you couldn’t help but glance up at him again. His face was still set in that determined, protective expression, and your heart did another flip.
This wasn’t just about the mission anymore. There was something else between you two, something you had been too scared to admit to yourself. But now, with Logan holding you close, the weight of his concern for you pressing down on your heart, it was impossible to ignore.
So, for now, you let yourself enjoy the warmth of him around you, lingering in it for as long as you could. Because you knew this is the closest you were ever going to get to him holding you like he cared.
---
You blinked, hearing muffled arguing coming from outside the medbay, Jean coming over to your side. “Hey, there. You’ve been out for a day.”
“A day?” You asked, your voice hoarse.
“You sustained significant blood loss, but luckily the metal didn’t hit any organs, or it would be a much different story,” Jean said gently, her eyes watching you with concern.
You blinked a few times, your head still foggy from the whole ordeal. “A day? I’ve been out for a day?”
Jean nodded, giving you a reassuring smile. “You’re tougher than you think, Y/N. You just need to rest.”
You sighed, glancing around the medbay. The arguing from outside caught your attention again. Jean seemed to notice it too, her expression turning slightly more serious.
“Logan’s been a little... on edge since you were brought back,” she said carefully.
Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Logan. You tried not to let it show, but you’d always been bad at hiding your feelings. Jean gave you a small, knowing smile.
“Don’t worry about him. He just- well, you know Logan.”
You chuckled softly, though it hurt to do so. “Yeah, I know Logan.”
Jean gave you a sympathetic look, her hand resting lightly on your arm. “He’s been worried. More than usual.”
You raised an eyebrow. “More than usual?”
Jean nodded. “You know how he gets. All gruff and ‘I don’t care,’ but it’s just a front. He was pacing outside the medbay the entire time we were patching you up.”
The idea of Logan pacing, stressed about you, felt both strange and oddly comforting. It was hard to imagine him being that concerned over anyone—let alone you.
The door to the medbay creaked open, and Logan’s familiar, rugged form stepped inside. His eyes immediately locked on you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in the set of his jaw that told you he was angry. And worried.
Jean gave you a quick smile and a soft pat on your arm before standing. “I’ll give you two some space.”
As Jean left, the room fell into an awkward silence. Logan stood by the door for a moment, arms crossed, not moving. His eyes scanned you, probably taking in the bandages, the way you were still propped up on the medbay bed, looking a little worse for wear.
“Hey,” you said quietly, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “I’m fine.”
“Like hell you are,” Logan muttered, walking over to your bed with heavy steps. He didn’t sit, just loomed at the foot of the bed, arms still crossed, his expression a mix of frustration and something else you couldn’t quite place.
You blinked up at him, trying to push past the discomfort. “I’m fine, really. Jean said I’m tougher than I think.”
“Yeah, and you’re also reckless,” Logan shot back, his voice rough. “You almost got yourself killed out there, Princess.”
Your stomach twisted at his words, and you looked away, fiddling with the blanket. You liked it when he called you that, but at the same time it almost felt like he still saw you as a kid. “I didn’t mean to. I was just doing my job.”
Logan let out a sharp breath, and for a second, you thought he was going to start yelling at you. Instead, he sighed and finally sat down on the chair next to your bed. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking tired.
“I know you were doing your job,” Logan said, his voice quieter now. “But you gotta be more careful. I thought—” He cut himself off, his jaw clenching as he stared at the floor. “I thought I lost you.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the way he said it, like the very idea of you being gone was unbearable to him. You swallowed, unsure of what to say. You’d never seen Logan like this—so raw, so vulnerable.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a pang of guilt. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
Logan glanced up at you, his eyes softening just a bit. “You scared the hell outta me, sweetheart.”
The nickname sent a familiar warmth through your chest, but this time it wasn’t just the usual flustered feeling. There was something more behind it, something deeper that you’d never allowed yourself to believe was possible.
“I didn’t mean to,” you repeated, feeling small under his gaze. “I just... I wanted to do my part.”
Logan’s expression softened even more, and he leaned back in his chair, letting out a long breath. “I get that. You’re tough, Princess. But you’re also important. To the team... and to me.”
You blinked, your heart pounding. Did he just say that? Did Logan—Logan, of all people—just admit you were important to him? Your mind was racing, trying to process what he meant, but before you could say anything, Logan stood up abruptly, like he regretted letting those words slip.
“You need rest,” he said, his voice gruff again as he turned toward the door. “I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”
Logan left the medbay, leaving you alone with the beeping machines.
---
A few days later you were released from the medbay and told to take it easy by Jean. Which you took to heart, perhaps a little too much.
You stayed in your room, only leaving at abnormal times to get food and water since you didn’t want to run into Logan. After all, you were young, practically a child to him, and all you wanted was for your crush on him to fade away like so many others did before.
That’s what you kept telling yourself. It didn’t make the ache in your chest any easier to handle. Your crush on Logan had always been this quiet thing, something you never intended to act on. But now, after everything, it felt like it had grown louder, more noticeable. And that scared you.
You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed, idly fiddling with the hem of your shirt. Maybe you just needed to... talk to him. Be normal again. You’d been friends before, hadn’t you? It wasn’t like he knew how you felt, anyway.
Just as you were considering going for a walk to clear your head, there was a knock at your door. You froze.
“Y/N?” Ororo’s voice came from the other side, soft but steady. “You in there?”
You quickly got up, taking a deep breath before opening the door. Ororo stood there, arms crossed, giving you that look—like she knew exactly what was going on with you. It was unnerving, how she always seemed to be one step ahead of everyone emotionally.
“Hey,” you greeted, trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”
Ororo raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your attempt at nonchalance. “You’ve been hiding.”
You blinked. “I haven’t been hiding.”
Ororo gave you a look. “Please. I haven’t seen you at meal times, and Logan’s been extra grumpy. It’s not hard to put two and two together.”
You felt your face heat up. “Logan’s grumpy all the time.”
“He’s more grumpy than usual,” Ororo said, stepping into your room and closing the door behind her. “He’s been asking around. Wants to know why you’re avoiding him.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “He said that?”
Ororo nodded, leaning against your desk. “He won’t admit it’s bothering him, but it is. What’s going on?”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you sat back down on the bed. “I just... I don’t know, okay? Things got weird after the mission, and I needed space.”
“Logan didn’t do anything wrong,” Ororo pointed out gently.
“I know,” you mumbled. “It’s not him. It’s me.”
Ororo tilted her head, studying you for a moment before sitting beside you on the bed. “You’re worried about how he sees you, aren’t you?”
You swallowed, nodding slowly. “I mean, kinda of. He doesn’t see me in the way I see him, y’know?”
Ororo gave you a knowing look, her lips quirking up slightly. "And how do you see him?"
You hesitated, feeling your face heat up again. "I... I don’t know. It's just... he’s Logan. He’s been through so much, seen so much, and I’m just… me. The kid who got lucky with mutant powers and likes chemistry too much."
Ororo smiled gently, shaking her head. "You’re selling yourself short, Y/N. You're a lot more than that. And Logan sees it."
You opened your mouth to protest, but Ororo held up a hand. "I’m not saying he knows exactly what he's feeling, but he's not as oblivious as you think. And trust me, the way he’s been acting lately, it’s clear you’re important to him."
You sighed, flopping back on the bed. "Maybe, but it’s not like that. It can’t be. He’s Logan—he doesn’t do the whole feelings thing."
Ororo chuckled softly. "You’d be surprised. He’s more in tune with his feelings than he lets on. He’s just… not used to showing them."
You frowned up at the ceiling. "Then why does it feel like I’m the only one getting all messed up over this?"
Ororo stood up, crossing her arms as she looked down at you. "Because you’re thinking too much, Alchemy. Maybe you should try talking to him instead of hiding."
"I’m not hiding!" you protested weakly.
"Uh-huh," Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "Well, hiding or not, he’s not going to let this go. Logan’s stubborn like that."
You groaned, pulling a pillow over your face. "Great. That’s exactly what I need."
Ororo chuckled again. "Just… talk to him. It might help. You can’t avoid him forever."
You sighed, peeking out from under the pillow. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll think about it."
Ororo smiled softly before heading toward the door. "Good. And Y/N?"
You looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.
"Give yourself a little more credit," Ororo said gently. "You’re not just some kid to him. He cares about you. Maybe more than either of you realizes."
Before you could respond, she slipped out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and the knot of nervousness growing in your stomach.
---
The next day, you were wandering through the mansion’s empty halls after lunch. You weren’t hiding per se, but you were definitely avoiding a certain someone. Ororo’s words kept echoing in your mind, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that she was right. Talking to Logan was probably the only way to clear this weird tension between you, but the thought of actually doing it made you want to curl up and disappear.
As you turned a corner, lost in thought, you almost walked straight into him.
"Whoa, easy there, Princess," Logan’s gruff voice startled you as he steadied you with a hand on your arm. "Where you off to in such a hurry?"
You froze, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I-I wasn’t—uh, just wandering."
Logan raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but amused. "You’ve been ‘just wandering’ a lot lately."
You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. This was it. The moment you’d been dreading. He was right here, and there was no avoiding him now.
Logan sighed, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. "You’ve been avoiding me, sweetheart."
There it was. The thing you’d been trying to dodge. Your heart raced, and you shifted uncomfortably under his intense gaze. "I haven’t been avoiding you."
Logan huffed, his expression softening a little. "I ain’t stupid, Y/N. You haven’t been around much since the mission. What’s goin’ on?"
You swallowed hard, feeling your palms start to sweat. "It’s nothing. I just... needed some space. That’s all."
Logan narrowed his eyes slightly, studying you. "Space from me?"
You looked down at your shoes, suddenly finding them very interesting. "Not exactly. I just... things got a little weird, okay?"
"Weird how?" Logan’s voice was still rough, but there was a hint of something gentler beneath it. Concern, maybe?
You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. How were you supposed to explain that the reason you’d been avoiding him was because your stupid crush had spiraled into something much more confusing and intense? You couldn’t just blurt that out. Could you?
Logan’s grip on your arm tightened slightly, and he took a step closer, his voice low. "Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s goin’ on?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as you glanced up at him. He was so close now, and the familiar warmth in his eyes was making it hard to think straight.
"I just... I didn’t want to make things awkward between us," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper.
Logan frowned, his brow furrowing. "Why would things be awkward?"
You swallowed, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "Because I... I care about you, Logan. A lot. And I know you don’t feel the same way because you still like Jean- ”
Logan's frown deepened, and he shook his head almost immediately. "Jean? What’re you talkin’ about?"
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you bit your lip, feeling suddenly embarrassed. "I mean, I just assumed... everyone knows you used to have feelings for her, and it’s fine, really. I get it. I just didn’t want to make things weird by—"
"Y/N," Logan cut you off, his voice firm but not unkind. He stepped closer, his gaze locking with yours. "I ain’t thinkin’ about Jean like that anymore."
You blinked, caught off guard. "You’re not?"
Logan shook his head again, a hint of frustration slipping through. "No, sweetheart. That’s done with. It’s been done with for a while."
Your mind raced, trying to process what he was saying. If he wasn’t still hung up on Jean, then... What did that mean? Why had he been acting so tense around you?
"Then why have you been so... distant?" you asked softly, your voice wavering. "You’ve been acting weird too, Logan. It’s not just me."
Logan looked down for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck—a rare sign of discomfort from him. When he spoke again, his voice was a little gruffer. "I’ve been... tryin’ to figure some stuff out, alright?"
"Figure what out?" you pressed gently, taking a step closer to him now. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest, but you didn’t back down. "Logan, just talk to me."
He sighed, his eyes meeting yours again, and for a second, you saw something vulnerable flash through his expression—something raw. He was quiet for a beat before he finally spoke.
"After that mission," he said slowly, his voice low, "when I saw you get hurt... somethin’ in me snapped. I couldn’t... I couldn’t handle it, Y/N. The thought of losin’ you like that—" He broke off, his jaw tightening, and you could see the tension in his shoulders. "I’ve been through a lotta shit in my life. Seen people come and go. But you? The idea of you bein’ gone—it messed me up more than I thought it would."
You stood there, staring at him, trying to absorb what he was saying. He wasn’t just talking about the mission anymore. This was more than that.
"Logan..." you whispered, feeling a knot form in your throat. "I didn’t know you—"
"I didn’t know it either," he interrupted, his voice rough but sincere. "I didn’t know I felt like this ‘til it hit me. I care about you, Princess. More than I care to admit, sometimes. And I ain’t exactly good at this... feelings thing, y’know that."
Your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, and for a moment, you were convinced you’d misheard him. Logan cared about you? Like that? It felt surreal.
"You... you care about me?" you asked cautiously, your voice small.
Logan huffed, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but there was a softness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. "Hell yeah, I do. I’ve been tryin’ to push it down for a while now, but it ain’t workin’. Not anymore."
You stared at him in disbelief, your pulse racing. "But... I’m just—"
"Don’t even start with that ‘I’m just me’ bullshit," Logan cut you off again, his tone more serious. "You ain’t ‘just’ anything, Y/N. You’re smart, tough as nails, and you’ve got a good heart. You matter to me. And not in some ‘kid sister’ kinda way either, if that’s what you’re thinkin’."
Your cheeks flushed, and your heart skipped a beat. He was being so direct, so honest, and it left you completely speechless.
Logan shifted a little closer, his gaze softening even more as he looked down at you. "I don’t know when it happened, but it did. You got under my skin, sweetheart. And as much as I tried to ignore it... I can’t."
You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. This was really happening. Logan—gruff, stoic Logan—was telling you that he had feelings for you. And for the first time, you didn’t feel like a kid around him. You felt like someone who mattered, someone he saw.
"I..." you started, your voice shaking a little. "I didn’t think you’d ever... I mean, I’ve had feelings for you for a while now, but I just figured—"
Logan chuckled softly, his hand reaching out to brush your cheek gently. The touch was gentle, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "You figured wrong, Princess."
You blinked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The way he was looking at you—it wasn’t just teasing or friendly banter. It was something deeper, something real. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
“I-I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper. “I thought I was just… I don’t know, bothering you or something.”
Logan’s hand lingered near your face, his thumb brushing your cheek softly. His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the sincerity in them, the raw emotion he wasn’t hiding anymore. “You ain’t a bother, sweetheart. Far from it. And if I’ve been actin’ like I don’t care, that’s on me. But I do care. A lot.”
Your breath caught in your throat. His touch, his words—it was all too much, too overwhelming. You’d been crushing on Logan for what felt like forever, and now he was standing here, telling you he felt the same way. It didn’t feel real.
“Logan, I…” You started, but your words trailed off as his hand slid down to your neck, his rough palm warm against your skin. The way he was looking at you, the intensity in his gaze, made it impossible to think straight.
“Stop thinkin’ so hard,” Logan murmured, his voice low and rough. “Just… be here. With me.”
Your heart pounded as you met his eyes, your stomach doing flips. You didn’t even realize you’d been holding your breath until you let it out in a shaky exhale. “Okay.”
For a moment, everything felt like it slowed down—the air between you humming with tension. Logan leaned in closer, his face inches from yours, and you could feel his breath warm against your lips. It felt like time had stopped, like nothing else in the world mattered but this moment.
Then, before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the small distance between you and pressed your lips to his.
Logan responded instantly, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he kissed you with a kind of intensity that made your knees weak. It wasn’t slow or hesitant—it was rough, urgent, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.
You kissed him back, your hands finding their way to his chest, gripping his shirt as you melted into him. His lips were warm and slightly chapped, and the way he kissed you sent a shock of electricity through your entire body. It was everything you’d imagined and more.
Logan’s free arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him until there was no space left between your bodies. You could feel the strength in him, the raw power that he usually kept under tight control, but there was also a tenderness in the way he touched you, like he was afraid of hurting you.
The kiss deepened, and for a moment, you lost yourself in him—in the way he tasted, the way he smelled like leather and pine, the way his hands moved over your body like he couldn’t get enough of you.
When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. Logan’s hands were still on you, one tangled in your hair, the other gripping your waist like he didn’t want to let go.
“Damn,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “You really are somethin’, Princess.”
You laughed softly, feeling a little dizzy from the kiss, from everything. “You’re not so bad yourself, Wolverine.”
Logan smirked, brushing his thumb over your cheek again. “Could’ve told me sooner, y’know. Saved me a lotta trouble.”
You rolled your eyes, still grinning. “Yeah, well, you could’ve said something too. You had me thinking I was crazy this whole time.”
He huffed a laugh, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Guess we’re both idiots then.”
You bit your lip, still trying to process everything. You’d kissed Logan. Actually kissed him. And he’d kissed you back. It felt like a dream, like any second now you were going to wake up and realize none of this had happened.
But it had. He was still here, his arms around you, his eyes on you, his lips still tingling from the kiss. And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel nervous or uncertain around him. You felt… right.
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rafesangelita · 1 month ago
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⊹₊⟡⋆♡ having a pregnancy scare wasn’t on rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader’s to do list anytime soon.. but alas, here they are waiting to see if two pink lines will change the trajectory of their lives forever.
warnings: pregnancy, mentions of a breeding kink lol, super sweet fluff, slight humor, lots of crying
a/n: this is my not-so-subtle way of introducing babydaddy!rafe to my blog (i’ve been reading a lot of babydaddy!rafe lately.. yum) also just a reminder: pogue!sweetheart!reader is only pregnant in this fic alone. meaning any other works i create with her are not correlated with this one UNLESS stated so <3 you could keep up with this little universe under the second tag of this post: ‘₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader & babydaddy!rafe’
w/c: 1.3k
“a-are you sure you’re late?” rafe was pacing back and forth, tears pricking your eyes as you flipped through your little calendar book. “yes! i look at my calendar everyday rafe, it’s been three weeks!” you sniffled, checking for the millionth time. rafe joined you on your bed, realizing he probably wasn’t making you feel any better if he was freaking out too. “hey..” he cupped your chin, “it’s gonna be okay, baby. what do you need me to do? ‘want me to go get some tests from the store?” you cried even more, the whole thing becoming too real all at once. “i don’t know! i don’t know what to do, ray!”
he sighed, holding you as you wept in his arms. “oh, baby,” rafe rubbed your back, “you know i’m going to take care of us, of you.” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. he wiped the tears from your eyes, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i know.. it’s just— this is so new, and even though we don’t have a for sure answer yet, i feel like i really am. you know.. pregnant?” saying it out loud made rafe’s heart drop to his stomach. you saw the way his expression softened, his eyes flickering down to where you two held hands.
while it shouldn’t be too surprising, considering you two never use protection.. it’s still a delicate matter that rafe took very seriously. “am i gonna sound crazy if i say i hope that you are?” you took a breath, stroking the side of rafe’s face. “no. i want it too.” letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he pulled you against his chest, embracing you once again. “why don’t we find out? ‘go to the pharmacy and get some tests?” you nodded, the anticipation already feeling unbearable. “okay.” you pulled away, getting under your knitted blanket.
“you’re not going with me?” rafe laughed. “are you joking? the owner has known me forever. if he see’s us buying a pregnancy test, he’ll—” you lowered your voice down to a whisper, “he’ll know what we’ve been doing..” your cheeks heated at the thought of the sweet old man who’s known you for all of your life checking you out for a test that indicates you’ve been doing a lot more than just baking cookies. “baby, if you didn’t live in the middle of nowhere, and far away from any kind of civilization, everyone on this island would know what we’ve been doing.” he winked.
at his words, you shooed him out of your camper as a giggle escaped your lips. he wasn’t wrong. rafe knew all the ways to make you scream and tremble in pure bliss. it felt like forever since rafe had been out, but one glance at the heart shaped clock on your wall, and it had only been ten minutes. you laid on your back, fingertips skimming your tummy. imagining a baby, half of you, and half of rafe, a result of two worlds, both full of so much love, colliding into one and making the most beautiful creation you were sure to ever see, made a smile grace your pretty face.
now you were thinking about a nursery, wondering if you’d be painting it baby pink or powder blue. either color was fine with you. sitting up, you looked around your camper, really seeing just how small it was. you and rafe barely fit in here together, let alone with a little baby that’ll eventually grow and want to run around. now you felt sad at the indication that you might have to move out of the only place you’ve ever known. this would change your life, but with rafe by your side you felt more ready than ever. just as you were going to call rafe and politely tell him to hurry up, he walked through the door.
“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, so i just grabbed one of each.” rafe gave you the bag, plopping down next to you. there was about ten different tests in there, including a lot of the snacks you’d been craving over the last week. sour gummy bears, chocolate, and spicy chips mostly. taking out a pink box, you read the instructions before looking back at rafe who already had his full attention on you. “can you come with me?” without hesitation, rafe helped you up and guided you to the bathroom. “alright..” he leaned against the doorframe, watching as you unwrapped the test.
“i can’t really pee if you’re looking..” rafe had zoned out, thinking about house hunting already and wondering what kind of car seat would be the safest for a baby. “right, i’m sorry.” he turned around, swallowing the lump in his throat. rafe needed the confirmation just as much as you did, his stomach doing somersaults as he nervously bit his lip. “you okay?” he asked. you hummed, peeing on the stick before setting it down on a piece of toilet paper. washing your hands shortly after, you and rafe left the test in the bathroom as you waited in silence.
“my heart is beating so fast right now.” you laughed, on the verge of tears as rafe rubbed circles into the flesh of your thigh. “i want you to know something..” rafe whispered, “whatever those test results come out to; negative or positive, we’re going to be okay. i don’t want you to worry about a thing, alright?” your chin wobbled as you nodded, your head falling in the curve of his neck. you stayed quiet for the rest of the time, the timer on rafe’s phone going off. “oh, god..” you whimpered, motioning for rafe to grab the test. “don’t look at it, just bring it over!” you called out.
rafe walked back with his eyes closed, nearly bumping into the wall as his hands trembled with excitement. “where are you?” he kept his eyes screwed shut, in which you followed suit. “i’m right here.” you squeaked out, holding onto his wrists. “on three we’re gonna look down.” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “okay, i’m ready.” both of you smiled. “one, two, three—” both of you looked down, rafe jumping and running out of your camper as you stared down at the sight of two, very prominent, pink lines. rafe was shouting outside, the sound making you laugh as you took a seat on the couch.
“oh my god.” rafe poked his head in, your teary eyes meeting his. thankfully, he was able to read the room and calmed down a bit. “oh my god.” he repeated, kneeling down in front of you. “are you okay? are you happy?” rafe rubbed the side of your thighs, his touch providing a comfort like no other. “yes! i just can’t believe it..” you hugged him, his arms wrapping around your waist. “we have a lot of planning to do.” you sniffled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. rafe could already see it. the white house, the white picket fence, both of you were already two steps closer to your dreams becoming a reality.
“yeah, we do,” he agreed, “let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah?” you smiled, cupping his face. “i love you so much, this is crazy.” he kissed your lips before taking the test in his hands again. “a whole baby..” you were in utter disbelief. “maybe i should take the rest of the tests?” you stood up, taking the plastic bag with you to the bathroom. by the time you finished, the sun was already setting, both you and rafe staring at the approximately ten tests in front of you. all positive. “looks like we took the breeding kink a little too seriously, huh?” you looked up at rafe through his reflection in the mirror. “that was a good one.”
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the-hopeless-haze · 2 years ago
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For people that complain code blues on tv shows are over the top you need to watch Criminal Minds …that doctor and nurse did not care if that patient died right there they were not going to show any urgency at all they were just like 🧍‍♂️K. We’ll call a code blue when she’s already dead idc
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brattyspence · 16 days ago
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virginia is for lovers | s.reid
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summary: model!reader accidentally exposes their relationship through a soft launch instagram post
tags: model!reader x spencer, penelope included <3, smau
a/n: this is kinda short n pointless but i wanted a reason to write reader tweeting abt spencer and its been in my drafts for weeks so
word count: 1.1k
masterlist
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Spencer had worked hard to keep you a secret. 
Not because he wasn’t thrilled to be in your life, because he really, really was. Historically, things had a tendency to go south as soon as word got out, especially when it came to his personal life. 
You had met in a bookstore. It was a short interaction; you were busy debating which translation of The Stranger was most appropriate to read. You must have been standing in the aisle of the bookstore a little too long, holding two copies side by side, when he had offered his two cents on the matter.
Typically, you weren’t one to entertain conversation in public. Nine times out of ten, you’d get one word in before the inevitable “Please can I take a picture? I love your blog so much!”, but this was different. You weren’t even sure he had even seen your face before he started talking to you. He wasn’t initially trying to hit on you, either. He was genuinely excited that someone was willing to listen to him ramble about the differences between the Ward and Guilbert translations, so when you responded in such a way that asked him to continue on, he was surprised. 
That day, you’d left the store with four more books than intended, and a single bookmark where he had written his phone number after you asked for it.  He had asked you for your name; a confirmation that he actually had no idea who you were. 
The rest was history. You saw him whenever possible, spent nights on the phone together, and flew across the country often just to see him. You loved having a relationship that didn’t need to be public, but you were also excited to share bits of it with the world.
It was late at night, and he was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, trying to finish the last of the paperwork he’d been assigned, when he heard commotion from Penelope’s office. He figured it was nothing new; probably just some news about the royal family or one of the real housewives again, but she’d thrown her door open in such a way that it garnered attention from everyone in the office.
“Spencer Reid,” She gripped her phone and rushed across the room with determination. “Do you have something you want to share with me?”
He looked up from his paperwork, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”
“Why are you on my Instagram feed?” She placed her phone on his desk in front of him. 
“I’m not on instagram,” he replied. 
“Oh, but you are,” she said. “You are such a little liar. I can’t wait to tell Derek about this.”
She pushed his paperwork aside, plopping her phone down in front of him. It was a slideshow on instagram. A photo of the most recent bouquet he bought for you. A few from the museum you’d visited together, including several where his hands or shoes were visible, but nothing that really pointed to him. He could almost make the argument Penelope was mistaken, until the last photo, which included just enough of his apartment to confirm her questioning.
“You said you were seeing someone and I thought… someone from a chess tournament, or maybe… oh, I don't know. Literally anyone else? But you bagged a model?” 
“I-” he sighed. “How did you find her?”
“I didn’t find her, Spencer. I’ve followed her for years! I see her posts all the time. I can’t believe you.”
He scrolled down.
liked by @jjareau and others
@yourusername: virginia is for lovers :)                                              posted 12 hours ago
↪ @randomuser1: GIRL STOP TEASING WHO IS HE
↪ @randomuser3: i’ve been trying to figure it out since that tweet last month 😞
↪ @randomuser2: this is the sweetest soft launch i’ve ever seen <3
↪ 12k comments
He clicked onto your profile. 
@yourusername 
5.2M Followers
Followed by @jjareau, @emp.sergio and more
“You’ve got to see her Twitter, lover boy. She’s been gushing about you.”
“Oh, god,” he groans. So much for privacy. He lets her take the phone back, redirecting his attention to your Twitter page. She scrolls back to June before handing it over, letting him read in chronological order.
June 10
@yourusername: hot girl summer is officially over. just asked a man for HIS number.
June 25
@yourusername: is it offensive to men if you call them pretty? bc this man is rlly pretty 
@yourusername: update: apparently it is not :)
July 30:
@yourusername: good morning text + picture of a dog that he claims reminded him of me???? gonna ask for his hand in marriage
August 15
@yourusername: up til 2 bc hes explaining quantum mechanics to me 🧚🏻
@yourusername: embarrassed to say that form of dirty talk worked on me 
August 20
@yourusername: oh btw im a girlfriend now!
↪@yourfan1: look u long enough wtf girl
↪@yourusername: dw im locking him down 🫡
↪@yourfan2: thats OUR man now 💘
“Oh, wow.”
She takes the phone back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me? Oh, this is great news. You’re bringing her to Rossi’s next, week, right?”
“I- Pen, I have no idea.” He laughs. He watches her type away on the device aggressively. “Are you texting everyone?”
“Yuh-huh. I need to call JJ, like… yesterday. And this isn't the end of this conversation!” She darted back into her office quickly, letting the door fall shut behind her.
He decided his remaining paperwork could wait. He packed his things up in a hurry, and decided to head out of the office, dialing your number on the way out. 
You picked up on the first ring. 
“Hey,” you started. “How was work? Are you heading out?”
“Yeah,” He started. He pushed through the glass doors of the office, staring towards the stairwell. “It was… busy. I just had a really interesting conversation with my coworker.”
“Mhm…” You had been lounging in your hotel room waiting for his call. “About..?”
“You, actually.” He replied. “She follows you on instagram. Apparently most of the office does. She showed me your post today.”
“Oh,” you replied. “Oh god, Spence. I’m sorry. I didn’t think… anyone would be able to tell who you were.”
He laughs. “Yeah, well… I work with some… characters. It’s totally fine, though.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, anxiously.
“Yeah. It was cute,” he replied, smiling to himself as he exited the building. “Tasteful.”
“That's what I wanted,” You reply.
“I thought Twitter was much more interesting, though.”
You froze, cringing. “Oh, god. Tell me you didn't read all of it.
He chuckles. “I skimmed it.”
You groan. 
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i2sunric · 7 months ago
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𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (p.js)
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pairing: doctor!jay x reader (f)
summary: you’ve always thought dating a doctor was hot until you started realising his job was taking your place— but don’t worry, being a doctor meant jay could always stitch your broken heart up!
warnings: fluff (like, 3am typa fluff), early 2000s au, childhood friends to lovers but they’re already lovers, angst (with comfort) cuddling and kissing, a little suggestive (no smut), they grow up together (narration starts from 18), mentions of stress and fainting, mentions of pregnancy, fighting, if more lmk. NOT PROOFREAD.
published: 29th April 2024
wc: 10.5k (longer than i intended ;-;)
tag list: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @wtfhyuck @kim2005bomi @luvpjs7 @sundoie @sunghours @anittamaxwynnn @tinie03
It was the last summer of senior year at high school, the year that everyone would choose what path to undertake, the life they wanted to live, the job they wanted to get.
As scary as it sounded, you didn’t want to think about it yet, just to focus on living your last summer as a teenager before adulthood kicked in with all its difficulties and challenges.
You were laying on the bed at Jay’s holiday cottage at the lake, the temperature of the afternoon was too hot to let you stay outside, so you seeked some escape from the humidity in his bedroom. The grids were only slightly open to let some sun rays enter the room, just enough not to turn on the light.
You were reading a pook, wearing only a dump swimming suit and a pair of jeans shorts, you drenched the sheets but you knew it would be perfectly dry by the evening, so you didn’t really care.
Jay laid on the other side of the bed, your feet beside his head as he studied an anatomy book. You had a clue on how difficult it was to enter the medicine faculty, but seeing your boyfriend giving up his whole summer just to bury his nose in those headache-bringers books made you feel sympathy for all the doctors.
The book in your hand had become boring five minutes before so you just closed it, letting it rest on your chest. You nudged Jay’s arm with your foot “I’m bored.” You let out a small sigh
He looked up from his study material and gave you a soft smile before reaching out to pat your ankle. "I know you're bored, baby. But I'm only an hour away from finishing this.” Jay gave you a reassuring smile
“After I’m done we could go outside and sail the small boat?” A couple of minutes of silence passed and he was ready to you making a fuss about how boring and dull studying was until you said “Or maybe I can help you with your studies?”
"You sure that you wouldn't mind helping me with my studies?" He replied, raising his eyebrows. He let go of your ankle, but he quickly pulled you by your knees while you were curled up on his bed and laid you on top of his lap instead, so now you were using his body as a mattress.
“I’m not as smart as you,” You murmured, snuggling comfortably on his chest as he placed the book in front of both your faces. The amount of latin and difficult words made you close your eyes right away “I’ll just flip the pages when you need.”
Jay let out a low chuckle and pressed a featherlight kiss on your head. It was a small team game, he tried to involve you in his studies, making you ask him some questions to know if he had said it right.
You felt a warm sense of pride in your chest to know that your boyfriend was working so hard for the sake of his dream. You flipped to a page that had a big skeleton drawing on it, beside it there was a man with all the muscles without skin.
You scrunched your nose at the amount of names all the bones and muscled had “You memorised all those names?”
“Not as easily as others do," He confessed, letting out an audible sigh as he caressed your head. "I find it easier when I explain the answers to someone who's willing to listen."
You looked up to his face, your eyes shining with endless love “I’m always willing.”
Jay gave you a sheepish smile, hooking one arm under your knee to intertwine both your legs together. He squeezed your hip in response and you two resumed studying together.
After around fifteen minutes, you started to become bored again. All those letters made your eyes feel heavy, you blinked them a few times “Are you done yet?”
He chuckled softly as he shook his head from side to side. "I still have to memorise more chapters," He sighed, looking up at you with an apologetic grin.
Despite his efforts, it was clear that he was having troubles memorising the contents of the page, and even he knew he was going to be up for quite a while more.
You caressed his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his body even under the white sleeveless shirt he was wearing.
You toyed the necklace you had given him for his fifteenth birthday in your fingers, the same jewel he had sworn to never take off “What are you studying now?”
He raised his eyebrows and looked down at you, smiling as he watched you play with the necklace. "Right now I'm studying about different body systems and conditions, the respiratory system." he said, looking back down at you
You laid your ear on his chest and he fell silent, you tried to hear his breath and commented with a forced funny voice “Your lungs function well.”
“I guess they do.” Jay chuckled, rubbing your back as he continued to study.
The room fell silent once again but your head was full of thoughts.
You started thinking about your future, you pictured yourself in different situations or workplaces but none of them seemed good enough. Or maybe it was you not good enough.
"You know, it's admirable that you already know what you want to be in the future..." You murmured, snuggling closer to him.
The corners of his lips spread into a small smile as he heard your compliment. "Is it admirable for someone my age?" He asked softly, brushing your hair out of your face
“Uh uh,” You hummed, flipping another page for him “I don’t know what I want to be,” You confessed quietly “I don’t see myself anywhere.”
Jay raised his eyebrows as he stopped studying for a long moment to give you his whole attention.
He then looked down at you and lifted your chin to face him. "Are you really unsure about what you want to be in the future?" He asked, his eyes searching for yours.
Your eyes met his deep brown once, and you shook your head, feeling vulnerable. “No, I don’t.” You sighed softly “My mother… My mother wants me to go to some sort of job counsellor.”
Jay let go of your chin to caress your back again “That’s a great idea, actually.” He encouraged, smiling gently. “I mean, it’s better to ask for help now than choosing something you don’t want to do… ain’t it?”
You hummed, dropping your head on his chest “I guess so.” Your tone went quiet and he had been with you enough to know you didn’t want to discuss that topic anymore.
A few minutes passed by and your yawn caught Jay’s attention. He caressed your head, letting his hand run through your hair “You should get some sleep, Y/N.”
“And who’s gonna flip your pages?” You asked, your tone sleepy and your eyes clearly fighting to stay open
He chuckled, placing an incredibly soft feather-like kiss on your nose “I can flip them myself, you look like you’re going to pass out from your tiredness.”
“I guess I could.” You rested your head more comfortably on his chest and closed your eyes. “But when I wake up you better be done studying.”
Jay nodded “Alright baby.” He smiled, watching as you drifted off to sleep right there in his arms. At moments like that, he thought he was the luckiest man alive to have you— and he planned to never love you.
⪩⪨
College years had arrived and to no one’s surprise, you and Jay were still a couple. Seriously, you two loved each other too much to stay away from the other, even with your busy schedules.
You were laying on the lower bunk bed in his dorm. His roommates were out for dinner and left the whole house for you two. And obviously, what was Jay doing instead of spending time with you? Studying.
You acted like you didn’t really mind, flipping through the pages of a magazine. But seeing his back facing you, his hand moving as he was scribbling things on his notebook— you couldn’t help but feel sorrow.
“Are you going to study the whole night?” You asked quietly, not wanting to sound rude as you rolled on your wide to face him.
Jay raised his brows and finally turned around to look at you. His face was tired, pronounced dark circles under his eyes and he had probably skipped his self care routine for a few days. That didn’t make him less attractive, though.
“Pretty much,” He replied “I’m kind of behind on a lot of study materials.”
“Oh.” You nodded, shifting again to face the mattress of the other bed on top of Jay’s. He took in your bored expression and grimaced “You know you don’t have to stay here while I study, right?”
“But we don’t have time to spend together apart for some evenings,” You stated, looking back at him with a pout.
He chuckled softly, letting out a quiet sigh before closing his study materials and walking over to the bed. He climbed in beside you so he was under the covers with you. He then pulled you in and cuddled you tightly. "I know," He murmured, squeezing you a little tighter “I know baby.”
You rested your forehead on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don't want to disturb you.”
Jay laughed quietly as he kissed the top of your head. "You're not disturbing me in the slightest bit, so don't apologise,"
He said, running his hand through your hair gently. "I honestly don't mind having you beside me while I study." And you knew that, but sometimes you felt as if you were just an element of disturbance in his daily life.
It all started when you saw him fall into a deep slumber anytime he sneaked in your dorm, like he hadn’t closed eye for weeks; then how he’d always find a way to escape your dates to review a few materials and like now, when he’d study with only you in the room.
You knew he didn’t do it on purpose, he was just trying to survive college, and you felt guilty to have such resentment.
You looked up at him from his shoulder “I just… miss you nowadays.”
His eyes instantly softened "I miss you too.” He sighed “I know I’ve been studying a lot more lately, and I understand if you feel like I'm not spending enough time with you," He admitted.
“And I understand that you’re busy,” You acknowledged “You always work so hard for your degree.”
Jay smiled sadly and rubbed your arm up and down "I know I study like crazy, but it's because all of these things matter so much in the future.” He started explaining “It means that I'll be able to have a more secure job and..." he sighed again and paused before continuing “And i wouldn't have done this if I knew I couldn't spend time with you."
Your brows knitted “Don’t say that.” You raised your head so you could look into his eyes.
“You’ve been wanting to be a doctor since we were kids, Jay, And—“ Your voice cracked a little “I can’t guarantee we’ll be forever together, but you’ll always have a stable job with the degree you’re studying for.”
Jay nodded “I know that too…” He rubbed his temples, frustrated “I just wish I could spend more time with you.”
You smiled and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek “It’s okay, when exams season is over we’ll go on a small vacation, sounds good?”
He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your body while pulling you closer towards him. "Sounds nice." he murmured, planting gentle kisses on your forehead “Although…”
You asked in a quiet voice "Although?" Jay looked away, “I still have a big exam coming up next month," He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know how well I’m going to do, honestly."
“Oh,” You gulped, blinking “And why do you think so?”
Jay gave you a half-smile "I Just feel like I'm not studying enough. The material i need to memorise.. It’s so much— I'm worried that I won't be able to remember most of it when the time comes."
You stayed silent for a few beats, trying to find any solution to help him “Maybe we should do a no-contract month?”
It took him a moment to process what you said "A no contact… month?" Jay repeated, looking away at the wall "Do you mean.. as in no contact with each other? For the entire month?"
You nodded slowly, not sounding sure of your own choice “So you don’t have any distraction and can concentrate on your classes?”
He raised his eyebrows, letting out a long and steady breath before speaking. "I understand it might help me with my studies, but.." Jay looked away from you again, unsure "Don't you think it's a bit too extreme?"
You fidgeted with the blanket, looking down “I know..”
“I mean... it seems pretty extreme." His fingertips then began to massage his temples. "You're right though, I do get pretty distracted when we're together, and my studies have been lacking because of that."
You tried to mask the pain you felt in your heart with a small smile “It’s just a month.”
Jay couldn't help but frown at the idea of not talking to you or seeing you for an entire month. "Yeah, but—" he started, but then suddenly realised. "Wait, does this no-contact month also mean that we can't meet either?"
“People usually do it after a break up, but we can do it just to focus on college. It’s like we’re off but we aren’t, we just don’t talk to each other for a month.” You exclaimed, nodding
He bit his bottom lip “We really can’t meet for a whole month? At all?”
“Baby, listen,” You caressed his cheek, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I don’t like this either, but it’s for the best?” You asked “I don’t want to get in your way.”
He sighed once again “You’ll never get in my way, never say that.” He then slowly nodded his head.
"I completely understand your point, but...it just feels way too bizarre.” His brows were furrowed. “I mean, we're used to talking every day, for us to stop talking for an entire month, it's just..." His words trailed off as he sighed and looked away.
You moved some hair away from his forehead “Just until your next exam.” You said “I’ll work my part time job, save some money and we’ll rent somewhere for a week, just us.”
Jay looked at you, worry painted all over his face “And you’re sure you’re completely okay with doing this?” You gulped down “No,” You whispered “But I’ll have to.”
He seemed to debate your suggestion, silence filling the room. After a couple of minutes, he caressed your cheek “Fine, I guess it's what's best for the both of us right now." He murmured.
“Just stay with me tonight,” You begged, “We’ll start tomorrow.”
His heart broke a little at your wobbling bottom lip “Let’s make the most of the night, my roommates will be back in early morning anyways.” Jay was still surprised you suggested that weird break, and he was even more stunned he had accepted.
You took his face in your hands, bringing him in for a kiss. “I love you.” You murmured on his lips.
Jay softly smiled against your mouth before he kissed you back, wrapping his arms tightly around your body as he started to pull you into him. His arms squeezed you more as he deepened the kiss a bit more, letting out a soft groan into your mouth. "I love you more.”
“No, I love you more.” You stated. He smirked and shifted position so he was now on top of you, resting his weight on his elbow not to crash you down “Bet?”
His hand cupped your cheek before slowly sliding down on your chest. You gasped since it was cold. “Jay… someone might hear us.”
“I don't care,” Jay shook his head, his tone breathless. His mouth claimed yours once again, full of unspoken but mutual feelings “Be mine for the night.”
“I’m always yours.” You said, letting him do anything he wanted, knowing you had made an oath to never leave his side.
⪩⪨
Finally, college had almost finished and it was the last day before university. Anyone would’ve been on cloud 9 but you felt a pang of sadness. It meant you and Jay had to part ways, the university he had chosen was in the big city, five hours away from your hometown.
You waited for him outside the graduation hall, seeing groups of overjoyed students throwing their hats in the air.
Jay came out of the room, rushing after having read your message. He wore his graduation gown and looked ever so perfect.
He saw you, a bright smile immediately appeared on his face as he started to walk to you.
He was incredibly nervous about leaving for college and it showed on his face as he approached you, but seeing you there made everything else seem a bit less threatening.
He finally reached you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "You came," he said softly, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
You hugged his chest and whispered “How could I not?” Jay squeezed you back as he grinned, "I'm glad that you did, but I was already sure you would.”
He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek “You never miss a single big milestone of mine.”
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, doc.” You teased him with the nickname, but your teary eyes gave away your true feelings.
“This year has gone by so fast.” He murmured, caressing the back of your neck "And of course I’m stuck with you. I wouldn't have it any other way." His smile was so gentle it made you fall for him over and over again.
But the grin on his face disappeared as quickly as it appeared, making you frown “What’s wrong?”
Jay shook his head, “I’m just worried about us now since we'll have to do long distance."
Your lips trembled but you still managed to let your words out “We’ll be okay, right?”
His heart sank as he noticed your trembling lips. He gently squeezed you and gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Of course we'll be okay. If anyone's going to make long distance work, it's the both of us.”
Jay caressed your cheek with his thumb “I believe in us, and I’m going to come back as often as I can so we have time together. It'll be okay."
“Right,” You forced out a smile “We’ll make it work.”
“I’ll be back for summer, we can always go to the lake cottage,” Jay reassured, knowing you’ve always loved your summer trips to his holiday house
“And whenever we have a holiday—" He muttered, a small frown appearing on his face when he realised that you wouldn't be able to see each other as often as they used to.
You couldn’t hold it anymore and a few tears fell down your cheeks, you sniffled “Of course.”
His eyes widened when he noticed you were crying "Hey... hey, hey, hey," He murmured softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "Don't cry right now, everything's going to be okay, mh?”
“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, smiling with sad eyes “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
Jay’s face contorted into a painful expression, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.
He had always hated seeing you crying, but knowing that he was the reason behind your tears made his stomach close. “You know that I'm going to miss you just as much as you'll miss me once we're long distance, right?" He asked.
You chuckled and nodded, sniffling once again “I’ll be here waiting for you, Jay.”
"I'll be back for you every chance I get," He promised, squeezing you a bit tightly.
"Remember to keep in touch constantly, alright? No matter how busy we are, let's always make time for each other over the phone." Jay took out his phone from the pocket. “I bought this new Nokia only for you.”
You smiled widely and showed him your phone, a Nokia of the same type just in a pinkish colour “I bought this for you too.”
Jay pulled your face close to his chest, caressing your head and hair in a gentle manner, just like he always did.
He never failed to make you fall for him with every small action, treating you as if you were worth it. And to him, you were worth every fight, every difficulty coming with relationships. He’d endure it all just to be with you.
“I’m sorry,” You took a deep breath, trying not to let your voice shake. “I didn’t even congratulate you.” You smiled widely, “I’m so proud of you, baby. I really am.”
Jay hadn’t realised how much he needed to hear that until he did.
“Thank you. Seriously, thank you, for always being by my side.” He placed a featherlight kiss on your forehead "You know, since it was your graduation today as well... Maybe I should give you a graduation present.” He trailed off “I actually have a surprise for you, if you would like it."
Your brows shot up in surprise “You do?” Jay nodded and motioned you to wait.
He battled a little with his gown before retrieving a tiny velvet box from the pocket “Here you go, baby.” Your eyes scanned it, “What is it?”
Jay bit his bottom lip to hide his smile “Open it.” He held it out for you to take. You gave him a small stare before opening the small box, revealing two couple rings.
Inside there was also a note that said ‘One day you'll get the wedding ones.’ Your breath hitched.
He smirked as he watched the expression on your face change, becoming incredibly surprised and even a bit teary-eyed as you opened the box.
His eyes softened as he glanced down at the rings “I know they're not the actual wedding bands and it'll take a while until we get to that point... but I wanted to give you these as a symbolic gesture of me promising that we'll be married someday."
You mumbled nonsense for a few seconds, happy tears rolling down your cheeks as you felt overwhelmed by his sudden actions “I love them, I love them so much— I love you.” You blurted out.
Jay held you against his chest as you both embraced each other. "I love you too," He whispered, burying his head into your hair. "I love you so much."
“Oh lord,” You stumbled a little back to look at the rings once again “How much did you pay— They look so precious.”
“Don’t mind that,” Jay wiped the remaining tear stains “You’re worth it, so very worth it.” He tucked your hair behind your ear “And you’re right, they’re precious. Like you.”
You rolled your eyes and hid your face in the crook of his neck “You’re so romantic.” Jay planted a small kiss on your head “You like it when I’m romantic.”
You stayed like that for a few more minutes, just melting into each other’s embrace.
You then sniffled and took one ring out of the small box “Doc, would you mind giving me your right hand?” He chuckled and held his hand out for you “Not at all.”
Jay smiled back as he let you place the ring on his finger, his heart instantly warming up when he realised how real this all really is.
He was finally going to be able to say that he was officially engaged, that he was soon going to be married to you. Jay looked down at the ring as you finished and his eyes started to tear up a bit.
"Thanks," his voice barely came out of his throat, but he was still able to softly smile.
You then gave him the small box and held out your hand for him. He gently squeezed your hand “Shall i?" He asked as he motioned towards your finger, wanting to put the other ring on it.
“Please, do.” You whispered, the anticipation killing you.
Jay carefully took out the ring and looked it over for a couple of seconds.
He then slipped the ring on your finger very slowly, making sure that it was fitted well “It fits perfectly.” He commented, kissing your knuckles, barely brushing his lips on them, like a true gentleman.
You sniffled again and let out a euphoric chuckle before wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your lips on his, never wanting to get away from that boy.
The moment you kissed him, his arms tightened around you, not wanting to let go of you ever again.
He had never felt this way before until you came into his life, back in third grade. He had truly felt complete, that he had finally found the person he would spend the rest of his life with. “I want you always," he mumbled softly between the kisses.
“I want you forever,” You murmured back with the same sincerity. He kissed your lips once more, needing to fill his nostrils with your sweet scent, his mouth with the taste of you before he had to move away for five years.
⪩⪨
A couple of years passed and between ups and downs, you and Jay were still strong. Long distance was difficult, you couldn’t lie, but keeping yourself busy with your small café and meeting whenever you two had free time was enough for you. Besides, you could still call with your matching Nokias.
Which was your plan for that afternoon, you sat down on a table at your café and dialled his number, mindlessly playing with the ring on your finger as you waited for him to pick up, hoping it wouldn’t go to voice mails.
One the call reached Jay, he smiled as he recognized your number on screen, picking it up immediately. It had been some time since you both had called each other, so hearing your voice brought a smile to his face before he opened his mouth and greeted you. "Hi, babe.”
“Hey,” You whispered, relief evident in your tone “Am I calling in a bad moment?” You asked, hearing chatterings from the other line.
“No, no, not at all.” He sat down on a bench outside his university building “What are you doing? Just working?”
“Yeah,” You sighed “But business hasn’t been going well nowadays.”
His heart instantly sank as he heard about how business hadn't been well. He wanted to be your support system always, even when he wasn't there physically as much as before. “Oh no… I mean, you're doing your best with it, right?"
“I guess I am.” You replied "No, you are." He quickly corrected you “Do you want me to come over so that we can talk about it? We can work on solutions or at least brainstorm."
You were quick to dismiss “No, don’t do five hours of train just for a small complaint of mine.”
Jay tried to recall in mind his schedules, he had finished lectures for that day, which meant he could come to you and then take the late evening train back to the city “Baby… Don’t tell me not to come over if you need me there.”
"I’m serious, Jay, it's okay," You murmured quietly "I just needed to hear your voice, if you have free time you should use it to rest."
The way that you cared for him made his heart beat fast. "I'll gladly come over," He said softly. "I have time to spare. plus.. if I come over, I can actually hug you and comfort you better than over the phone, can’t I?"
“You already came over three weeks ago.” You stated “I know, but like I said, I’d rather spend time with you than not.”
You dismissed him once again “I’m fine Jay, you don’t have to.”
“Babe, don’t tell me you’re fine if you’re not.” Jay pleaded “I don’t think you are, let me come over.”
You stayed silent a few beats “What about uni?” He knew you’d ask “I finished classes for today, I can come over for a few hours and then come back before classes tomorrow.”
You sighed, your voice cracking a little “I could really use one of your hugs.”
“Okay,” Jay breathed out “I’ll be there, wait for me at your café.”
Hating that he couldn’t teleport right to you, he hurried to the train station and waited, knowing you were going through a rough path.
You hardly ever asked for help, and Jay was sure whatever was going on had been haunting you for a while for you to call him in such a state.
After a few hours, the door of your café opened, making the small bell ring. You turned around and started saying “Welcom—“ When you realised it was your boyfriend.
Jay entered the cafe, his eyes instantly searched for you and his face lit up when he found you. It wasn’t hard, you were the only one there.
You were running towards him and he felt his whole heart melting. His arms were wide open and he smiled warmly, taking you into a warm embrace.
Jay immediately pulled you close to his chest, burying his head in your hair and breathing you in.
It had been three weeks since he last was at your side and the scent you had filled his lungs as he finally was this close to you again took him aback by how familiar and comforting it was.
You sobbed quietly, letting out all the tears you’d been holding as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, smelling the familiar scent of lavender of his clothes softener.
Your whole body quivering almost uncontrollably, and he knew you were hiding so much sadness behind those tears. “Shhh... shhh.. It'll be okay," He hissed softly, his voice calm and soothing as he kept whispering those same words to you over and over again.
You pulled away slightly, your whole face contorted in a frown “They want— They want to shut it down.”
Your sentence lacked context but he realised that your cafe was probably going to be closed down soon.
He didn't want your business to close, especially when he knew that it was your pride and joy. He pulled you back into his chest again, “It'll be okay. We'll figure something out.”
“It won’t!” You snapped, your voice breaking “It never does…”
Jay’s heart hurt even more as you shouted, your voice sounding so defeated and sad.
He didn't like the harsh reality you were facing and the fact that you would be going through this— Jay was supposed to protect you from the world, but he had neglected you for too long.
“Oh God—“ You blinked faintly, realisation hitting you “I didn’t know why I shouted, I’m sorry.”
The corner of his lips turned upwards briefly. "Hey, don't apologise for showing emotions." He gently dried your tears "It’s just... so frustrating to hear how you're losing something that you care about, that you've put so much effort in and that you're so passionate about."
You let out a bitter chuckle “It always goes this way.” Jay wanted to scold you for always thinking so low of yourself and never fighting, but he was in no position for that.
“I don’t know what to do,” You shook your head to emphasise your words “If it shuts down how will I pay the rent? I won’t have any money.”
Jay could feel you panic and didn’t want that stress and worry to get to you. "We'll figure something out," He said as he gently cupped your face and lifted it up so that you were staring at him. "We'll figure something out. You're not going to be in this alone, I promise."
You shook your head once more, sobbing “I’ll have to move back with my parents— we’ll be even further away.”
The possibility of you moving into your parents' home still made him feel sick. He wanted to keep you close to him and wanted to share a home with you.
He wanted to move in with you, not have you move back to your parents' house.
"Y/N, it's not going to come to that," He muttered softly, kissing your forehead. You sighed and let yourself go, your weight pressing on him “I’m just so tired.”
“Let me take some of that weight off you, baby,” Jay whispered “I’m here.”
You stayed silent a few beats, letting the mere presence of Jay put back the shattered pieces of your soul. “You just had five hours of train and all I did was complain.” You dried your tears with your thumb.
You showed him a faint smile “Sit, I’ll make you a cup of coffee.” He nodded and walked to the nearest table, sitting down.
You made him a cup of coffee and sat down on the chair opposite to him, smiling “It's on the house.”
He grinned softly as he took the cup, the smell of the coffee filling him with delight.
It was such a simple thing and yet it meant so much to him, given you made it. "Oh, so even though you're in a rough patch, your hospitality has not gone," he teased playfully before taking a sip.
“Call it boyfriend pass.” You winked at him. You then cleared your throat and fidgeted with the ring “How’s uni?”
Jay took another sip “Just uni, lectures… assignments here and there, many exams.” He trailed off “Just very busy.”
Your brows knitted in guilt “I’m so sorry you had to come here.” Jay took your hand in his, your rings tingling as they touched “You needed me, You needed comfort." He chuckled lightly. "And there's nowhere else I should have been other than here."
You answered with a smile and took your chair, scooting close to him. You put your head on his shoulder “Want me to stroke your hair for a bit?” He asked and you nodded “Please.”
Jay started stroking your hair, sipping the coffee with the other “How do you feel right now? Better?”
You chuckled “Less like a wreck.” A few minutes of silence followed until Jay asked “Are you scared of losing the café?”
"I feel like all the efforts I made weren't enough." You closed your eyes "I should've settled for a more stable job."
"But that would've made you so unhappy, you know?" he spoke softly. "Baby, I feel your enthusiasm every time you talk about your café, don’t regret something that made you happy.”
“What about you?" You raised my head and rested your chin on his shoulder to look at his face "Do you ever get so tired of studying you want to quit?"
"Sometimes," Jay admitted. “There were plenty of all night studying sessions that kept me up and made me question how I got to this point in life." He laughed, nudging your side playfully.
"But I would've never thought of quitting. I know it's going to pay off in the end." You hummed “Of course, You always work so hard.”
"And so do you," He whispered softly, squeezing your hand gently. "Sometimes I don't understand how you work at your cafe for so long and still have energy left to do other things... and sometimes I'm just worried about you overworking."
“You don’t push yourself too much right?” He asked, his voice laced with worry. Your sudden silence made him wonder if you were not telling him something.
“I fainted once.” You confessed. His grip tightened around your hand as he looked down at you, “You fainted? When? Why didn't you tell me about it?"
“Before Christmas break.” You whispered “It was exam season, I didn't want to distract you.”
It was in moments like those that Jay felt like giving everything up. Because why on earth would you think you were being a burden, a distraction to him when you literally fainted?
"No, no... you should have told me, even if I was busy. I would've come to you then." You sat up properly “I didn’t want you to.”
He was speechless for a minute, his mind trying to process what had happened. "Why wouldn't you want me to know? How could you go through it on your own?”
"Jay, Jay," You said, taking his face in my hands. "I'm grand, alright? I'm doing fine."
"I don't like that you hid something so serious from me," Jay muttered softly, his eyes meeting yours. "It's too important to hide from me."
“I know,” You nodded, letting go of his face “And I’m sorry.” Jay nodded at your apology “How did it happen?”
You sighed “I couldn’t afford to keep other workers so I had to run the café alone, I ran around and around and then I had a few other things.” You gulped down, recalling the moment “I went to bed feeling a little dizzy, I paid it no mind but the next morning as I woke up I fell flat on the floor.”
Jay’s whole world shuttered. He looked down to the floor, his jaw tense as he took in your words “You should’ve never ignored those signs, Y/N.” He called you by your name only when he was serious, his low voice sounding a little scary
“How could you—“ Jay took a sigh, trying to calm down “It could’ve been worse, something could have happened while you slept, you could’ve hit your head..” He looked as if he was on the verge of tears.
“Jay..” You murmured “I’m okay now, I know the risks I took, I was incoherent.” You took his hand in yours “It won’t happen again.”
“I should just transfer back here.” He got up from the chair, pacing around the room “I can take the train everyday to the city, I can do that, yeah.”
“No.” You stopped him “Jay, no.”
“Yes,” He turned around, facing you. His breath was heavy “Y/N, you— you could’ve died.”
“I didn’t.” You tried to soothe but even you felt like your efforts were worthless. “That doesn’t change the fact that I almost lost you— and I wasn’t even aware!” Jay looked like a maniac, his hands in his hair and his eyes bloodshot from frustration.
There was a moment where you both just stared into each other’s eyes, no words exchanged. Your eyes were full of regrets for having kept that from him and his were filled with the same emotion for not having taken care of you the way he should’ve.
“Don’t give up now, not for me.” You shook your head, slowly walking closer to him until you touched his forearm with your fingers, letting him know you were there. Breathing.
“You’re worth it.” Jay breathed out the same words he’d been repeating you, looking down at you, studying out features. His glance was so soft it almost hurt “Not this.” You shook your head.
Jay pulled you into a hug, so tight and full of emotions “Just three more years and we’ll be together.” He murmured “Just a little bit longer and we'll be able to share an apartment together. Just you and me."
You smiled on his chest, hugging him back “And we’ll get married.”
His entire face lit up with glee whenever you mentioned the idea of marriage, his finger swirled around the ring on your finger. “And we'll get married," He whispered softly, his eyes still focused on yours. "We'll finally be married and our families will finally stop asking us about our wedding plans," He laughed, the previous tension already forgotten
“Don’t even get started.” You laughed as well
"Yeah, for me it's my mom constantly bothering me with 'so when is it going to happen?'" He paused for a moment and cocked his head to the side playfully. "And for you? Is it your dad that's constantly bringing up the topic?"
You smiled and nodded “He’s afraid he’s going to die before he can walk me on the aisle.”
“That’s just a better incentive to wife you up.” Jay held your arms in his hands, gently rubbing them. You looked up at him and couldn’t help but cup his face, bringing your lips to him once more.
Jay’s eyes lit up the moment you kissed him. He let out a soft murmur, his lips responding to your kiss softly.
“I missed you,” You murmured between kisses “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too,” Jay responded, his lips travelling to the back of your head, tilting it to deepen the kiss “Only three years and you’ll be mine forever.”
“I think I’ve always been yours.”
⪩⪨
Another year had passed and New Year’s Eve came. A bummer that Jay could not come back to you those holidays because he had found a job to maintain his studies and was simultaneously studying for an extra course. After the small fight you had at the café (that shut down not long after) you two grew closer, if it was even possible.
Despite the long distance, you felt so connected to him. You dialled his number, feeling as you waited for him to answer.
Your phone beeped a bit before hearing his familiar tone on the other end. "Hey babe," His voice was as bright as ever “Did you miss me?"
“Hi,” You breathed out, sniffling due to the cold temperatures “I don’t miss you at all.” You teased
Jay’s brows furrowed slightly as he heard you sniffle. "Hey, are you okay? Are you sick?" He asked instantly with concern, ignoring your playful joke and wanting to make sure you were alright.
"I'm outside!" You explained happily, looking around at all the people inside the main square "Fireworks are nicer if you see them from here."
He let out a sigh of relief when he heard that. “Good. you gave me a bit of a scare there, babe. Are you enjoying yourself?” As expected, the soon-to-be doctor always worried for nothing.
“No, there are so many couples here," You joked "My boyfriend is so evil he didn’t even come to me."
Jay chuckled softly "Oh yeah? Just wait until I'm there. I'll make all those couples in the whole square jealous." He groaned, "Ugh, I can't believe I'm missing being with my girlfriend when we should be spending the new year together."
"I understand," Yoh reassured, looking up at the huge clock ticking close to the new year, a feeling of both nostalgia and excitement washing through you. "What are you doing now? Don’t tell me you’re studying".
“Well... you guessed it," He admitted softly, “...Studying. I have a final exam for my extra course coming up soon."
“No, Jay.” You said sadly “Not now.” His brows furrowed at your sudden change of tone and he asked “What’s wrong?”
You sighed “Can you drop your pen and walk to the window?”
Jay was caught off guard by the unexpected request. Though he had no reason to resist you, he set his pen and his open study books aside and stood up. He walked to his window.
"Three more minutes before the new year," You murmured "Look at the fireworks with me, the sky is only one so it makes me feel closer to you."
His eyes immediately turned to the outside, looking at the fireworks and the sky that was lit up by so many bright colors. It was breathtaking, and his eyes took it all in as he stood in the window, watching the sky as the time slowly ticked towards the new year.
He could almost imagine you right next to him, both of you watching the beautiful display together. "Yes," He whispered, “I can almost feel you right next to me."
“One more minute!” You squealed happily, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend.
Everyone started laughing and screaming, clapping their hands as the clock struck midnight, the sky lit up with more fireworks “Happy New Year, baby.” You told Jay and he said back the same words.
“Just one year and half until our big plan.” You stated, looking down at your ring.
“Just one year and half…” He repeated, a small smile displayed on his face
“We’ll be alright… Won’t we?” You asked, your voice quiet, barely audible with all the external noise. But Jay still heard you, he always did.
The question you asked was so simple, but it carried a lot of weight to it. "Yeah. We'll be okay, babe." His soft voice assured you of that. "Of course we will. We have always managed to find ways to deal with distance... we'll be fine."
You looked around and saw couples kissing and holding hands, spending that special time together. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you stepped away from the square and back on the way to your apartment "Can you stay on the phone a little longer? Until I get home..."
“Of course baby,” Jay reassured, playing with the necklace he always wore. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need me.”
You started walking, your nose red and cheeks hurting from the cold weather “It’s so cold nowadays.” You commented.
"Hey... you're okay, right? Are you sure you'll be alright making your way home alone? Are you wearing enough layers?” Jay asked softly, his tone of concern obvious.
You chuckled at his words “Don’t act like my mother.”
He laughed along with you. "Sorry... I just— worry too much about you sometimes. you know?”
You nodded though he could not see you. “I know, but I'm grand here.” You hummed “I’m an independent woman.”
“That may be true,” Jay stated, his whole face shining from the light of the fireworks “But your boyfriend here is worried about your health, especially in this cold weather.”
"I’m about to reach home and then i'll take a warm shower and go to sleep," You murmured, placing your free hand in your pocket "You don't study until late night, ok?"
"Well..." His voice was playful "No promises, a man's got to get good grades.” But your tone wasn’t “Please Jay… At least not today.”
“Okay, alright.” He knew you were just worried for him the same way he was for you “I’ll stop studying for tonight.”
“Promise?” You asked, “Promise.” He answered.
“Then, after you take a shower, can you stay on the phone for a while?” Jay’s voice was laced with vulnerability, the long distance taking a ton on him as well.
Your voice softened at his words “Of course baby,” You whispered “I’ll stay with you on the phone.”
“Hey, Y/N.” Jay murmured “Yes?” You said, fiddling with the keys.
“I love you.” You stopped moving for a moment, “I love you more.”
⪩⪨
Years passed by and vows were exchanged, Jay and you now happily lived together.
You still remembered that day when you got him at the train station, feeling all giddy to finally have the life you’ve always dreamt of with the only person you’ve ever loved.
You thought all your vicissitudes were over, that your many many years of patience had finally paid off— but no, because Jay’s traineeship was taking your place yet again.
Despite the fact that your apartment that once looked lifeless was now hosting a couple, it seemed as if it had lost its previous colours with your gloomy demeanour.
Jay spent all his day at the hospital, learning new things and trying to build a good relationship with his superiors.
And it’s not like you weren’t happy for him— No, you were overjoyed… but what about you?
Since you two became a couple, it felt as if you had spent all your life waiting for him, waiting for the life you two had promised to build together, but the only effort came from you. And now that you were married, the crack in your heart started to become a chasm.
Everything went downhill when, one day, you woke up yet again to an empty bed, the wrinkled sheets the only proof they Jay had spent the night there. He came back late and got out in the early morning— an endless circle that maybe he was used to when he was still a student.
But now Jay was your husband and you seeked all the things any wife wished for. Just some quality time would have been enough.
You got up from the bed and held your breath when you heard a noise coming from the living room. Quietly, you tiptoed to the bedroom door, peeking from the glimmer of the half-closed door.
A rather messed up Jay stomped around the house, in search of something. You got out of the door and walked inside the living room “Jay?” You asked
Without even greeting you, he just said “Where’s my spare gown?”
You blinked faintly, your mind still a little empty from sleeping “I don’t know.” Jay let out a deep groan “I told you to wash it the other day.”
“I still need to hang it with the laundry.” You replied, now remembering “You know I need it to work, Y/N.” His voice was low
“The other one?” You asked “Dirty,” He just mumbled, fumbling with some shirts “Hey! I had folded them neatly.”
“Fold them again.” Jay just answered “I need my gown, we have an important meeting today with the head doctors.”
“It’s dirty,” You stated “Just ask one of your colleagues to lend you one.”
“There’s my name on the gown.” He stopped and dropped the clothes on the floor. “I can’t talk to them while wearing someone else’s name.”
“Just cover it.” Jay rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, “I’m trying to help you.” You said, noticing his distressed behaviour.
“Well, you’re not.” He tsked, making you open your mouth in disbelief. Jay looked at you, raising a brow “What?”
“What?” You asked back with a frown “You just disrespect me and the work I do in our house and you ask ‘What’?” Your voice was dangerously low.
He gulped, glancing down at the discarded ironed clothes on the floor. He picked them up and placed them on the chair once again “Here.”
You let out a sigh and looked away. “Just take your dirty gown and go to your meeting.” You said harshly.
Jay ran a hand through his hair, frustrated “Listen Y/N— I didn’t mean to be so rude.” You still refused to meet his gaze.
“Please, love. Don’t get mad now.” He walked a step closer to you but you just backed away, making him frown “What’s wrong?”
“Everything.” You muttered, your eyes full of hurt now locking with his dark ones. His breath hitched as he took in your pained expression.
“W-Why?” He asked, genuinely confused, “If it’s because of this— I’m sorry, I’m just so stressed.”
“And I am tired.” You stated “I am tired of waking up to an empty bed and going to bed the same way, I am tired of spending all my holidays alone because of your work.”
You let out all the build frustration you had felt through the years “I am tired of waiting for you, Jay, when will all this end?”
Jay raised his hands to caress your arms but you stepped back again, not needing to break down now, but needing to set this straight.
“I know, I’ve been so busy lately.” You scoffed, “You’ve always been busy.”
“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life, Jay.” Your tone was shaky, “I’ve always supported you, since we were kids and even more after we became a couple. But I feel like I missed the most beautiful years of my life because of you.”
His breath sagged “Don’t say that..”
“But it’s the truth.” You stated “I said more ‘I miss you’s than ‘I love you’s in this relationship.”
“I—“ Jay’s bottom lip wobbled. “I’m sorry..”
You sighed, shaking your head. You then glanced up to the clock “It’s already eight, you’ll be late to your meeting.”
You turned around and were about to walk into the bathroom when Jay’s big and strong hands wrapped around your waist “I love you, Y/N.” He said, almost desperately.
You tried your best not to let your tears fall “I know,” You whispered “But maybe you love your job more.” You shrugged away from his embrace and locked yourself in the bathroom.
Jay tried to open the door but you had already turned the key, he helplessly knocked on it “Y/N, please, let’s talk this out.”
As much as you wanted it, your whole body and mind was drained from the constant feeling of sorrow you said in a quiet voice “Just go away, Jay.”
Yeah, he wasn’t going to do that. “Please, come out, let’s talk.” He pleaded
But you just dismissed him once again “I don’t know the things I’d say if we talked now.”
Jay knew he had messed up, really bad this time, and he wanted to make it right. To make it up.
How could he be so obvious to your pain? How could he have not noticed?
You had all the right to be mad at him, in fact, he deserved the slaps you should’ve given him. He deserved your anger, your resentment.
He wasn’t in his right mind that morning— Truth is, he hadn’t been for quite some time.
Traineeship was so exhausting, coming from a whole adulthood of self sacrifice and sabotage, he thought he was the only one suffering. Turned out you were as affected by his actions as him, if not even more.
Jay was so lost in thought he hadn’t even realised he had been typing the same word countless times in the report of the previous meeting. As much as he tried not to think about it, his mind kept drifting back to you.
One of his colleagues noticed his gloomy demeanour and sat on the chair in front of Jay’s desk, tapping his fingers on it “Hey there.” He waved a hand in front of his face.
“Not now, Jake.” Jay groaned, resting his face on his hand, his cheek slightly crushed against his palm “I’m not in the mood.”
“Damn man,” The doctor with the heavy australian accent commented “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”
Jay took a deep sigh, shaking his head “No one, I just am an emeritus douchebag.” Jake raised a playful brow, “Tell me something I don’t know?”
But the death glare he received from the other party made him nod in acknowledgment “Troubles in heaven?”
Jay frowned “How’d you know?” And Jake just smirked in response “You’re so obvious.”
He then leaned his elbows on the desk “Tell me everything.”
Jay tsked “Why should I?” And Jake clicked his tongue back “Dude, believe me, you’ll feel better after you confess your sins.”
“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” The Australian eyed him up and down “Is it not?”
Jay sighed heavily, running a hand on his face “I messed up really bad.”
He nodded, letting Jay know he was listening “Y/N… She’s the best thing that ever happened in my life,” He started “She is my first friend, my first love, my first kiss and time… It has always been her.” He smiled unconsciously.
“But I failed her, I think, I haven’t realised she’s been suffering in silence all these years.” Jay shook his head at himself.
“Does she regret your marriage?” Jay’s eyes widened at such a statement “God, I hope not.” But then he bit his bottom lip “I wouldn’t blame her if she did, though.”
Jake sighed “Listen man, I met Y/N only once or twice, but I see the way she looks at you.”
“How?” Jay asked “As if you were the only one in the whole world, and I mean it.”
“But maybe she doesn’t anymore,” Jay sighed softly “Maybe I lost her for real this time.”
Jake raised a brow, “You love her?” Jay looked at his colleague as if he had just offended him “I’ve always loved her and I always will.”
“Damn right!” Jake smirked, “Now, go tell her.” He shook his head, “I’m on duty.”
Jake sighed and turned the computer screen toward him, he opened a few types and typed on the keyboard and he turned towards him as well and then smiled victoriously “Not anymore.”
Jay glanced at the screen just to see his name had been replaced with Sim Jaeyun on the file with all the rounds “Why?”
Jake got up from the chair and patted his mate’s shoulder “Go get your wife back before it’s really too late.”
⪩⪨
“I’m coming home right now, I’m coming back to you and I’ll make sure you actually stay, both physically and mentally. I’m so sorry for everything baby, and I know this voice mail will probably find you in a desperate state and it breaks me to know I am the cause.” Sigh “I just hope you can forgive me, because I love you, definitely more than my job.”
You replayed Jay’s voice mail countless times, his voice breaking, clearly on the verge of tears. You sat down on the sofa, waiting anxiously for the front door to open, and when it did, you raised to your feet.
Jay rushed inside, almost stumbling as he took off his shoes and gown, discarding both of them on the floor. You both stared at each other, just taking in your presence “Hi.” You breathed out.
Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Jay’s arms wrapped around your body, your head pressed against his chest “Forgive me, love.” He whispered in your ear.
You pulled away, just enough to look inside his eyes “It’s okay—“ “It’s not.” He cut you out, “Don’t lie baby, not anymore.”
Jay’s deep, brown eyes were so sincere you felt your heart skip a few beats “I’ve been foolish, I didn’t realise your discontent for nine whole years. But I do now, I see all you sacrificed just to be with me. I see you.”
You smiled gently, looking up at him. He didn’t fail to notice the swelling and redness in your eyes “I see you too.” You whispered, placing one hand on his cheek.
“You saw me even before I saw myself.” Jay’s tone was gentle, he leaned on your palm “You never miss a single big milestone of mine.” He repeated the same words he said back during graduation day, the day he promised your hand. “I feel like I crashed your dreams, ruined your life.”
“No,” Your brows knitted “No, Jay, don’t ever say that again.” Sincerity filled your eyes “You are my dream.”
A tear fell down Jay’s eyes, a quiet sniffle escaping him. You brought his head down on your shoulders and gently patted his back “Why are you crying?”
“I thought I lost you again, because of my stupidity.” He shook his head, clinging onto your waist as if you were a lifeline.
You took his hand in yours and brought it on your chest “Do you feel it?” You asked. Jay raised his head and stared at you with teary eyes. He concentrated on the palm on your chest and felt your heart beating fast.
“That’s the effect you have on me.” Jay looked like a lost child at your words “Still?”
“Then, still, always.” You nodded your head, your lips curling into a soft smile “What happened this morning, to both of us, it was the anger speaking.”
Jay gently held your hand and brought it to his lips, his knuckles brushing on your ring finger. “I want to focus on you more, to make up for all those years we’ve lost because of my job.”
“Will you let me?” He asked, his head tilting to the side “Yes.” You breathed out
“I’ll take care of you,” He brought you closer by your hand, your chest flush against each other “I’ll spoil you rotten.” He brushed your hair away, his breath hitting your skin, making you shiver “My dear wife.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, murmuring on his lips “I want to have a baby, Jay.” His brows shot up in surprise “You do?”
“Yes,” You caressed the back of his neck. “I want to be the mother of your children.”
“Damn love,” Jay let out a shaky breath. “You can’t say things like that without bearing the consequences.”
You bit your bottom lip, bringing him down to you “I’m ready to bear them.”
Jay took you in his arms in a swift movement, carrying you over his shoulder and spanking your ass “To the bedroom.”
⪩⪨
“Hey, love.” Jay sat down beside you by the porch of the holiday lake house, placing a mug of iced tea on the table.
“Thank you.” You thanked, taking it in your hand with a groan “I really miss coffee.”
“I know,” He smiled gently, caressing the swelling of your belly “But caffeine isn’t good for the baby, is it?”
“Dad! Can I sail the boat?” Your eldest daughter asked, pointing at the boat near the shore of the lake “Fine, but be careful!” Jay shouted so she could hear and you both watched as she sailed the little box you used to sail as well during high school summer break.
You smiled, recalling the old memory, and Jay did the same, watching your face as if you were the best view of all.
“Do I have something on my face?” You asked, feeling a little self-conscious “Beauty.” He winked at you and you nudged his shoulder playfully.
His eyes fell down on your belly once again, a warm expression displayed on his face “Thank you so much, Y/N.”
You frowned at his sudden thankfulness “For what?”
“For everything,” His voice was full of sincerity “For this baby, for our other daughter, for being by my side.”
“And thank you for loving me.” Jay added, once again kissing your ring finger, this time his lips lingering a little longer on your knuckles.
“Oh, Jay.” You let out a shaky breath “That’s very effortless.”
Your eyes then fell down on the necklace, the same one you gifted him for his fifteenth birthday. Your fingers unconsciously reached for it as you began playing with it “You still wear it?”
“I’ll take it in the grave with me.”
[⪩⪨] END.
THANK YOU FOR READING ! REBLOG (and like) AND LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS!
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dollgxtz · 2 months ago
Note
I gotta know when you’re posting the Zayne CNC fic??? I’ve been checking your blog multiple times a day for it!
But realistically, no pressure 😂 I know writing is hard, and I can wait, lol. It’s worth the wait. I just want to show support for you and your craft. ❤️
Also, I love your yandere!Sylus fic! I’m only on chapter four and I see so many asks about it and I have to physically stop myself from spoiling it for myself, lmao. I’m so excited to read more! Your writing and your tics are a highlight of my day. 😊🥰
Edge Of Control
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Word Count: 6.2k
Tags: zayne x fem!reader, cnc, cutting, tw slight blood, scalpel play, choking, biting, degradation, blowjob, degrading names, pet names like darling, pain play, home invasion roleplay, primal play, aftercare in the end
AN: Hi everyone! I know this was a LONG awaited fic but I wanted it to be absolutely perfect for my second husband ^0^. Also ty anon for the very sweet words! I hope this fic makes up for the amount of time you had to wait!!!
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It was well past midnight, and the house felt eerily quiet without him. You lay on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of Zayne’s boxers, the soft fabric a small comfort in his absence. A half-empty bottle of wine sat forgotten on the floor beside you, each sip doing little to calm the restless energy humming beneath your skin. The TV flickered, casting shadows across the room as you absentmindedly flicked through the channels, though nothing could hold your attention.
Your mind kept wandering back to Zayne, a dull ache settling in your chest. He was on another one of those grueling shifts—long hours with no word, no way to reach out to him. The pit of anxiety in your stomach tightened. You didn’t know exactly what his job as a surgeon demanded of him, but you could see it weighing on him more and more. His face had grown tired, the usual sparkle in his eyes dulled by exhaustion. You noticed the way his shoulders remained stiff, tension knotting in his body like a rope pulled too tight, barely holding it together.
Every time he came home like this, you saw it—the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His body brimming with pent-up energy, adrenaline coursing through his veins with no way to let go. He was so tightly wound, like he was carrying the weight of a world you couldn’t fully understand. And every time you saw him like that, it broke something inside you. You wanted to help him. You wanted to be the one to take that edge off, to give him the release he so desperately needed but would never ask for.
You remembered the last time he came home with that storm in his eyes. Desperation had driven you to plead with him, to offer yourself as an outlet for all that tension, that frustration. You had begged him, your voice trembling, to let go, to take what he needed from you. But he refused. The worry in his eyes had cut deep, his voice firm but laced with guilt as he told you he didn’t want to hurt you.
That memory lingered now, thick in your chest. He was always so controlled, so careful. You knew he loved you, but there was a part of him that he kept locked away, too afraid to unleash it. But you wanted it—you craved it. You wanted him to feel safe enough to lose that control with you, to trust that you could handle it. That you wanted to handle it. But no matter how much you tried to reach him, he kept that wall up, afraid of what might happen if he let himself go.
You took another slow sip of wine, feeling the warmth of it spread through your chest, slightly loosening the anxious knot that had taken residence in your stomach. You always drank more when he was away—needed it, really. It dulled the sharp edges of worry that kept you up at night, made sleep feel a little less impossible. Without him beside you, the house felt too empty, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t control.
Your eyes drifted shut, and the thought crossed your mind again—he could hurt you, if he wanted to. God, he was strong enough. His hands, so skilled and sure in the operating room, could easily push you beyond your limits if he ever let himself go. He knew the human body better than anyone; he understood exactly where and how to apply pressure, how to control every reaction. And then there was the scalpel—his precision tool of choice. He was so adept with it, using it in ways you’d never imagined.
You remembered the first time he’d worked it into one of your nights together, after you had begged him to try something more daring, something that would leave you breathless. He had been hesitant at first, but the results... God, the results. The thrill of that sharp edge glinting in the dim light, the cold metal kissing your skin before it pressed just enough to break the surface. You shivered as the memory washed over you, your body tingling with the vivid recollection.
The pain had been brief, but it was the anticipation, the unspoken threat, that had driven you wild. You could still feel it—the delicate line of fire it had traced across your shoulder, a stinging reminder of his control. And then the blade had hovered at your throat, a silent promise lingering in the air between you, making your pulse race and your breath catch in your throat. In that moment, you had never felt more alive, more his.
Your hand had barely slipped down to your heat when the sharp trill of your phone cut through the quiet. Heart pounding, you snatched it up, the suddenness of it snapping you out of your haze.
“Hello?” you answered, your voice a little breathless, still tangled in the memory of him.
“Is that offer still on the table?” Zayne’s voice poured through the speaker, low and worn, with that familiar undercurrent of exhaustion. But there was something else this time—something darker. His words dripped with a kind of danger, smooth and sweet like black honey, making your stomach flip.
You swallowed hard, a spark igniting low in your belly. “Uh, depends which one,” you managed, trying to play it cool as you sat up, bringing the wine bottle to your lips for another sip. Your heart was racing, anticipation thrumming under your skin.
“The one where I use you.”
The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, sending a thrill straight to your core. The raw need in his voice was unmistakable, and it struck every nerve you had. You faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of your own reaction. You tried to cover the sudden loss of words with another drink, the wine sliding down your throat as you let the tension stretch between you.
One more sip—just one more for courage. Then, finally, you answered, your voice steadier than you felt.
“Yes.”
“Is the wine good, darling?”
The question hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you murmured, glancing around the dark living room. The flicker of the TV had left your eyes hazy, still not fully adjusted to the shadows creeping through the room. How did he know you’d been drinking wine?
Your breath caught as an icy chill swept through the house, raising goosebumps on your skin. Instinctively, your gaze darted to the front door, and your stomach dropped. It was wide open, swaying slightly as a gust of wind pushed against it.
You hadn’t heard a thing. Not the lock turning, not the door creaking. Nothing.
How had he gotten in without you noticing?
You stared at the door, frozen in place, watching as it swung shut on its own, the soft click of the latch echoing through the quiet. A chill ran down your spine as the realization hit—you hadn’t heard him enter on purpose. He wanted you to know he’d slipped in unnoticed, that he’d been watching you this whole time. Your mind spun with the thought: How long had he been there?
The phone slipped from your grasp, and you barely registered the sharp whine of the line going dead, drowned out by the thundering pulse of your heartbeat in your ears.
The soft but deliberate sound of shoes against the ceramic floor snapped you back into focus. Your senses sharpened, instincts kicking in. He was coming closer—fast.
In the low, flickering light of the TV, you saw him emerge from the shadows. Long strides brought him swiftly across the room, his form cutting through the dim light with an air of purpose. His form caught the harsh glow—the broad shoulders of his body, the sharp angles of his face—only partially revealed, but enough to make your breath hitch.
Then, without warning, the TV blinked out, plunging the room into complete darkness. The sudden silence was deafening. The sound of his footsteps, which had been closing in on you, vanished as if he’d disappeared into the night itself.
But you knew better.
He was there, somewhere in the blackness, waiting for you to realize it. The tension in the air was thick, every hair on your body standing on end as you strained to hear the slightest movement, feel the faintest brush of his presence.
You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.
Suddenly, the TV blared a sharp noise from the movie, flooding the room with light for just a second. And there he was, Zayne, only a few feet away—moving like a shadow, so silently it made your skin crawl. His face was bathed in the cold glow, and the way the light played off his sharp features made him look almost predatory. His expression was intense, dark, and unreadable, as if he was walking a line between control and something much more dangerous.
Your brain screamed danger. Fight or flight surged through your veins, heart hammering against your ribcage as self-preservation took over. Without thinking, your hand tightened around the neck of the wine bottle, the glass cool and smooth in your grip. Before you could second-guess it, you raised it high above your head and hurled it straight at him, instinct driving your every move.
But then—he catches it. Effortlessly. The bottle freezes mid-air, his hand snapping up to grab it as if it were nothing more than a tossed pillow. He doesn’t flinch. His stride doesn’t break. His hazel green eyes, burning with that same dangerous intensity, never leave yours for even a second. The best defense you could muster didn’t even make him blink.
Calmly, as though the act hadn’t fazed him at all, he places the bottle on the side table, his gaze still locked on you. The silence between you feels deafening as he closes the distance, his steps slow but deliberate.
Panic shot through you like a wild animal, adrenaline making your limbs tremble. But something else flared right alongside it—something that sent a pulse of heat straight to your core. It was fear, raw and visceral, but it was tangled up with desire, twisted into something you couldn’t quite understand but craved all the same.
You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.
Like prey trapped in the gaze of a predator, you couldn’t move.
Couldn’t look away.
And you almost didn’t want to.
You whip around, adrenaline taking over, and try to run—but you barely make it a few steps before it’s too late. You don’t even hear him behind you. The silence is terrifying, disorienting. Then, out of nowhere, his hand clamps around your elbow, and a startled shriek escapes your lips, cut off as he uses your momentum against you, spinning you sharply into the wall.
Your back collides with it hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A whimper slips out, unbidden, from the shock of the impact. Before you can recover, Zayne’s voice, low and commanding, hisses in your ear.
“Don’t fight it,” he growls, the words sharp like a promise. “You asked for this.”
Panic surges through your body, instinct screaming at you to get away. “Let go!” you cry out, fear pulsing hot and fast through your veins. But your voice is weak, barely masking the excitement that’s battling for control inside you.
He doesn’t. Instead, he’s on you again, his mouth descending on your neck with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. One of his hands grips your jaw with rough precision, calloused fingers pressing into your skin, holding you in place. You try to twist away, but he holds you firm, his touch demanding, possessive.
His lips travel down your neck, finding your pulse point first, then moving lower, grazing the soft curve beneath your ear. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and despite the panic swirling in your chest, a desperate whimper escapes. Your body betrays you, your hips instinctively rocking toward him, already aching for his touch. The heat between your legs flares, want burning through the fear.
His tongue traces a line down your neck, the warmth of it lingering only for a moment before the cool air chills the wet skin. Then his teeth sink into the muscle above your collarbone, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to make you gasp in pain. You wince, your body tensing as the sharp sensation rolls through you.
Your hand flies up to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to push him off, your grip weak and trembling. But Zayne doesn't budge. His strength overwhelms you, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that leaves no room for escape. His breath is hot against your skin as he continues, relentless, leaving you caught between fear and an overpowering need that consumes you both.
"Zayne," you whimper. He releases his teeth from your neck with a chuckle that curls fear inside you…
His hands take your wrists, leading them above your head. You try to squirm out of his grasp. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of pinning you. Partly out of the fear of what he could do if you can’t push him away, his entire aura shifted to something more angry and dangerous than usual. 
"Don't pretend like you don't like it," he says into the angle of your jaw. He leaves soft kisses there while he effortlessly pins your arms above your head. He holds them there with one hand.
The other gropes and squeezes it’s way down your body. Your chest, your side, your waist. He grabs a hold of your hips, thumb perfectly lining up with the dune of your hipbone. He pulls your hips towards him harshly enough to draw a noise from your lips. He works his knee between your thighs, then pushes them open. He swallows any attempted protests with a kiss. His knee presses against your sensitive cunt and you whimper against his lips in response. 
“Oh, what happened to all the struggling?” Zayne mocks you, punctuating his words by squeezing your wrists hard enough to bruise. His hand comes up under your t-shirt and you shiver against the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin. You melt. Fucking putty in his hands.
You open your mouth to protest, to say anything that might break the tension or reclaim some of your control, but before the words can form, Zayne grinds his knee into your core. The pressure sends a jolt of raw pleasure through your body, and the only sound that escapes is a desperate, breathy whine. His reaction is immediate—he hums with satisfaction, his lips curving into a smug smile. He does it again, harder this time, and you can feel him reveling in the control, in the power he has over you.
Your mind scrambles to catch up with your body, which is already responding in ways you can’t hide. You try to meet his gaze, desperately wanting to say something sharp, something biting, anything to regain your footing. But the moment your eyes lock with his, whatever witty retort you had dies on your tongue.
His face is half-hidden in the darkness, but his eyes... there’s something in them that makes your heart stutter. Not just the hunger, not just the dominance—it’s deeper. There’s a flash of genuine anger simmering beneath the surface, something darker that you hadn’t expected, and it sends a ripple of unease through you. The intensity of it levels you, catching you off guard.
Suddenly, this feels like more than just a game. Warmth floods your chest, your body still responding to him in ways you can’t control, but a new sense of apprehension takes root. You’re playing with something dangerous, something unpredictable. The heat between you is no longer just desire—it’s the burn of real fire, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for the flames.
Your breath comes faster as you take in the sight of him. His chest rising and falling, his lips parted slightly, the way his muscles tense beneath his skin. You’re mesmerized, caught between the fear of what he might do next and the undeniable pull he has over you.
You take him in, eyes sweeping over the familiar lines of his body now that he’s standing in front of you. His white lab coat is gone, discarded somewhere behind him, leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully undress. His shirt is buttoned neatly up to the collar, accentuating his thick, muscular frame in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. The tie around his neck is still knotted, slightly loosened from a long day’s work, but there’s something disheveled about him now—something raw and untamed lurking beneath the polished exterior.
His dark slacks cling to his legs, perfectly tailored to his build, emphasizing his long leg now settled between your core. The soft fabric sways with his movements, while his polished shoes make almost no sound against the floor, their silence unsettling given the tension simmering between you.
His arms cage you in, closing off this small corner of the world to just the two of you. It feels like there’s nothing outside this moment, no one else but him—towering over you, his strength radiating off him in waves. The air between you feels thick, charged with tension and unspoken desire. Your gaze travels back to his face, meeting his intense eyes, and despite the weight of the moment, you can’t help but smile mischievously.
Without a second thought, you turn your head and sink your teeth into his arm, biting down just enough to feel the resistance of his skin, tasting the salty warmth of him. At the same time, you grind your hips down against him, pressing into the hardness beneath his slacks.
You expect him to react instantly, to snarl an insult or degrade you for your boldness. To throw out one of his usual threats—punishment, discipline—his voice dripping with disdain for your insolence, for the way you always push his boundaries. You brace yourself for it, for the sting of his words, the sharp crack of his tone that would send heat rushing through your body.
But it doesn’t come.
Instead, he goes completely still. The tension in his muscles shifts, tightening under your bite, but his silence unnerves you more than anything. You can feel it—the raw power coursing just beneath his skin, his body vibrating with restraint. His muscles flex under your teeth, taut with the effort of holding something back. You release your grip slightly, confused, nervous. But Zayne says nothing. He’s a coiled spring, quiet, calculating, like a predator biding its time.
Methodically, he moves, his hands sliding down your arms, his touch precise, controlled, like he’s performing surgery. Each motion deliberate, calculated. His fingers glide over your skin, and with each inch he covers, the nervousness inside you builds. His control feels absolute, every movement designed to unsettle, to leave you wondering what’s coming next.
Then his hands reach your head, enveloping it completely. His fingers curl around your skull, not rough but firm enough to make you feel small, trapped in his grip. His thumbs rest near your temples, steady, as if he’s taking his time to savor the way your breath catches. The weight of his touch presses down on you, making it impossible to move.
With one harsh movement, he’s pushed you down onto your knees. He undoes his belt and pulls himself free, his beautiful cock glistening with pre-cum. One hand presses hard into your jaw. Harder. His thumb pressing against the muscles there until you open your mouth for him. The head of his cock comes to rest against your lips.
The taste of salt and Zayne’s soap is too tempting to resist. He was usually such a giver, and when you went down on him, he always liked it slow. You lick up the length of his cock and he shivers in response. He drops his hands to your shoulders and you watch his forearms flex in pleasure. Your tongue swirls around his soft tip, and then you take him into your mouth soft and sweet.
Except... this time he doesn’t respond with shaking breaths and high pitched whimpers. Not even an utterance of your name. Insecurity flashes through you - you were sure this is how he usually liked it. Were you not doing well enough for him? You cast your eyes upwards for guidance, barely able to see him in the dark. 
“You really think that’s going to cut it?” His voice is cold and hard. Then his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you down onto his cock so fast and deep you almost gag. You pull away to drag a sharp breath into your lungs, abdomen muscles flexing.
 “You want to be fucked like a slut, you’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls you back down onto him.
Suppressing the urge to gag brings tears to your eyes, and it isn’t long until they’re falling down your cheek, mingling with the saliva making a mess of your mouth and chin. Wet, choking noises echo into the empty hall. When you start to slow, whimpering from the effort, he’s quick to pick up the slack. He thrusts his hips forward, pinning your head between him and the wall. You choke and gag around him, struggling to adjust around the brutal pace he sets, fucking your throat like you're nothing to him but a toy. Your hands come up to his hips, but he wrenches them away with a furious grunt. 
He pulls out suddenly, thick strands of saliva dripping off his cock. His breathing is hard and sweat rolls down the lines of his ab muscles. Your shoulders slump and you try to catch your breath. You’re absolutely spent. How humiliating that he didn’t even have to touch you to keep you wet for him, a vague sense of disgust emanating through your core.
“Was that good enough?” you weakly ask, but you might as well be begging him to fuck you for the look in your eyes. You don’t even bother to wipe the spit from your chin or the tears from your cheeks. You hope the sight gets under his skin so he can fuck you just as rough as he did your throat. 
“I don’t buy it,” he says. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and frustration. 
“What?” 
“I just don’t buy that you want me to fuck you.” 
You’re about to ask what you can possibly do more to prove it when something hard presses against your warmth, pushing your soaked boxers against you. You look down do see Zayne presenting his shoe. Polished and tightly tied, the mere sight of them gave obvious impression of what he wanted from you. But why?
You look up at him, but all he does is look back at you, expectantly. Your can feel the heat creeping up your neck as you adjust to straddle his shoe. You keep hoping he’ll just end your suffering by mocking you for even considering it, but it never comes. The cold, hard leather against you sends a wave of electricity through your body. Your hips are moving on their own. Your body desperate for anything it can get, chasing it’s high no matter how humiliating. You turn your face away from him, unable to stand him looking at you like this. Grinding against his shoe... 
“There they are. My desperate little darling,” his voice has the first touch of warmth it’s had all night. It’s enough to spurn you on, the heat coiling in your abdomen. You pick up the pace against your will, your body chasing ecstasy like an uncaged animal. And Zayne just watches you, expression never changing, never reaching down to touch you. God, were you really going to cum on his shoe while he looked at you like that?
He kneeled down to one knee, doing his best not to disturb your work. His strong hands take hold of your hips and push you harder against his shoe, dragging your hips up and down. You moan, tears collecting in your eyes again. You can’t believe you’re enjoying this. Even - no, especially because it hurt. You were getting closer, your moans coming faster. 
“Beg for it,” Zayne orders. 
“Please let me cum, Zayne, please!” 
“Tsk. Not that,” he pulls his shoe away like he's disgusted and you whimper in protest. Then, as if you were light as a feather, he’s tossing you to the side. You catch yourself on your elbows and feel them scrape against the ceramic floor. Your hips grind against the air as they searched for any friction at all that would send you over the edge. They found nothing. 
“Silly girl.” He sounds bored as he stands to his full height above you.
You watch as his hand pulls a scalpel from his pocket. It captures his full attention, glinting in the light of the TV behind him. When he speaks, it's almost to the room.
“Isn’t this your favorite part? Where you try and fail to escape?” 
You don’t move. He flips the scalpel in the air, catching it by the tip of the blade, and then again to catch it by the handle. He admires it as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. 
“Start crawling,” he suggests. 
You push yourself onto tired, shaking limbs and try to get up. They give out on you. You pull yourself forward on your elbows instead. You hear the nearly silent creak of his shoes. The another. Then another. You feel small crawling beneath him, listening to the gentle whirl of the scalpel as he tosses it in the air. His shoes creak again, then again. 
You turned to look at him. You were almost overwhelmed at how he towered above you. His broad shoulders blocking out the light in the hallway. One hand busy toying with the scalpel, the other pulling his pants further down his hips. He was clearly taking his time.
“You ever wonder why you like to fight so much?” You watch shoe follow shoe in lazy strides until they were at either side of your ribcage, standing above you.
“Should I let you get away again?” he asks, but then he’s dropping to his knees, pinning you beneath him. Fear takes hold of your vocal chords and you make a desperate noise, pushing at his legs. “Will you just give in already?” 
With a calculated shift, Zayne turns your body to face him, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The tension between you crackles in the air, and before you can fully process what’s happening, his hand finds your neck, fingers wrapping around it with unyielding force. His palm presses against your throat, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of pain through you, sharp and undeniable.
"It takes about 10 seconds for pressure to the jugular to result in unconsciousness," Zayne says calmly, his voice low, almost clinical, as if reciting a fact from one of his textbooks. His grip tightens again, harder this time, and the sensation of control he wields is overwhelming.
The edges of your vision blur almost immediately, the world around you starting to fade. You feel lightheaded, like the ground is slipping away beneath your feet, your body caught in the thin space between pain and pleasure. But beneath the intoxicating sensations, panic begins to swell. The lightness in your head grows, and then you feel weightless, disconnected from reality as the darkness creeps in around your sight.
Your body starts to respond, instinct driving you toward the rising sense of panic. The pleasure and thrill that had mixed with the danger of it all suddenly feel too real, too much, as Zayne relentlessly pushes you to your limits.
You bring your hand up weakly, your fingers trembling, and tap his arm three times. The motion is small but deliberate, your safe signal.
For a brief, terrifying second, you wonder if he’s noticed.
He releases and you gasp for air. He lets you catch your breath, and for a minute you’re almost angry. But the growing wet between your legs betrays you to yourself, forcing you to admit you liked being pushed to the edge. An exhilarated smile picks up the corners of your mouth and Zayne, intently waiting for you to lead, just watches.
“More,” is all you need to say, and he’s on you again. Hand lighter on your throat, he brandishes the scalpel to catch your eye. It makes contact with your skin and you fight to control a shiver. 
It glides around your shoulder, then down your collar bone. The razor sharp point leaving a thin, red cut beneath the bone. You gasp, back arching into the sting. He withdraws. 
“If you keep squirming, I’m going to hurt you for real.” It’s as much a warning as it is a threat, and the dark rasp of his voice sends a chill down your spine. 
Then you go still again, he continues. The scalpel crosses your chest, taking it’s time tracing each and every one of your ribs. He draws a bead of blood there, before lifting the blade again. You moan, squeezing your thighs together to keep from moving your hips. The anticipation almost too much for you. But the movement catches his eye. He pockets the scalpel, and then he’s prying your thighs apart so hard you feel the ache in your hips. You try to shimmy away, but his hands hold your thighs fast against him. 
“I said hold still,” he grunts, squeezing his hands around the squish of your thighs hard enough that you make a noise. "What part of stop squirming do you not get?"
Your hand comes up to his hips, trying to hold them at a distance, but it doesn’t help. He pulls you closer to him and you feel his cock hard and leaking over your boxers. Fuck, you almost come undone all over again. Feeling him pressed against you like this... his cock easily reaching your belly button, reminding you how deep inside you he could be. 
“Zayne, please,” you whimper. 
“Please what?” He asks. You feel the cold blade against the tender, exposed part of your thigh. 
“Please fuck me.” 
He grunts, a noise that commits to nothing. He pulls the fabric of your boxers off your body and slips the scalpel beneath it. He cuts the thin fabric off of you in a show of strength and skill that intimidates you. 
He leans over you slowly, his hips pressed flush against yours, his cock pressed against where you want it most. A hand comes up to your face then, holding your jaw hard as he turns your face away from his. The scalpels beautiful surface approaches your cheek. Your breath picks up, fear coursing through you. He says nothing, and it makes it all the more terrifying. Your instincts freeze every muscle in your body. 
“You asked for this,” he reminds you, tracing the curve of your cheek. You bite your lip.
He pockets the scalpel once more, and you realize then that he's still entirely dressed, his pants only pulled down enough to fuck you. He shifts his hips, lining up with your needy hole. You’re already moaning for him.
“Begging me to use you like this, begging me to hurt you like this.” He pushes into you, your cunt struggling to adjust to his size. He only makes it a couple inches. He pulls out of you, then thrusts again, moaning as he does. This time when he pushes into you, he completely fills you. You both release an almost victorious sigh.
“Always fucking struggling. Can never just make it easy,” he growls, that angry look in his eye. His jaw flexes. Your cunt tenses around him.
He thrusts into you again, and again, so hard it feels like he could fuck you in half. He dips his face into your neck, moaning.
"You want me to force you onto my cock." His voice tightened with effort, but never lost that black-honey edge. "Can't say no to you. Do this because I love you."
You reach up and cling to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric. His words shouldn't thrill you, but they did. Your eyes flutter closed. Your body shook beneath him.
“This is messed up,” Zayne’s hips start to pick up their pace. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him, pulling him deeper into you. You find yourself moaning his own words back at him; so messed up, so messed up. 
Fuck, he felt so good. The two of you dissolved into senseless babbling, saying whatever it took to push each other closer to the edge. A meaningless cloud of fuck and just like that and you begged for this until neither of you could form words at all. Your pace became erratic, moaning into each other’s necks, limbs tightening around each other as you both approached your highs.
“Fuck, fuck, m’so-” you barely manage, panting and moaning through your words. Your thighs tighten around him and he groans in response. 
And then you’re coming undone together. His hips driving his cock as deep as they can with the primal need to fuck his cum deeper inside you. You take it, greedily, breathlessly as your own climax rocks through your body like an earthquake. 
He rests his forehead against your chest while he pulls out of you, then collapses onto the cool ceramic floor of the hallway beside you. He turns you onto your side and buries his head against your back, forearms tight against your chest while he hugs you close to him. 
“I didn’t think,” you take a deep breath, trying not to pant through your sentence, “that when I asked you to use me after your work shifts, that it’d be like that.” 
“Bad?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically small. 
“No, no,” you rush to recover the situation. You lace your fingers with his, “Of course not.” 
He says nothing. You turn to look at him, and there’s that distant, tired look on his face. 
“Are you okay...?” 
“I will tell you about it soon, darling” he says. You hum as acknowledgement, wishing you could say anything, but feeling like nothing was the right thing to say. Instead you just let him hold you for awhile. 
Zayne held you close, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours, his bodily warmth gradually soothing the whirlwind of sensation still buzzing under your skin. But then, you felt him shift. His fingers, cold and precise, began to ghost over the cuts he had made, tracing the delicate lines he’d etched into your skin with surgical precision. You shivered at his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips.
His eyes softened, and in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I need to tend to these.” His words were gentle, but firm, a quiet reminder of the care he always took with you, even now.
He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, the warmth of it contrasting with the coolness of his fingers, and then he pulled away. You watched him button his pants, his movements deliberate but unhurried, before disappearing down the hall. Even through the exhaustion weighing you down, you heard the faint sound of him rummaging in the bathroom, retrieving what he needed.
When he returned, Zayne knelt beside you, his medical kit in hand. His usual calm, professional demeanor was still there, but this time it was softened with a tenderness only reserved for you. Gently, he began to disinfect the cuts, his touch as light as it was thorough. The sting of the antiseptic bit into your skin, making you wince, but his hand found yours, his thumb brushing reassuringly over your knuckles. It was a silent promise: I’m here, I’ve got you.
With every stroke of the gauze, every carefully placed bandaid, Zayne’s focus never wavered. His gaze remained trained on you, on the cuts he was tending to, but there was something deeper in his expression—something protective, almost reverent, as though he was caring for a part of himself.
When he finally finished, he sat back slightly, his hand resting on your arm, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were truly okay. You could see the tension from earlier still lingering in the set of his jaw, the concern etched faintly into the lines of his face.
“I’m okay, I promise,” you murmured, your voice heavy with exhaustion, your body finally giving in to the weight of the night. Your limbs felt like lead, but your heart fluttered at the care he was taking with you, the gentleness of his hands now so different from the intensity you’d felt earlier.
“I’m just…so exhausted now” you sigh, briefly closing your eyes as another wave of tiredness washed through you.
Zayne’s expression softened into a small smile, one so full of adoration it made your chest tighten with affection. He stood, helping you up with careful hands, supporting your weight as he guided you to the couch. His arm stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close, steadying you as he laid you down gently, as though you were something fragile.
He settled in beside you, his body curling protectively around yours, pulling you against his chest. “We’ll clean up later,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss. The warmth of his breath and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you, the scent of him comforting, grounding you.
You nestled deeper into him, the tension of the night melting away in his embrace. Wrapped in his arms, in the safety of his presence, your exhaustion finally caught up with you. Your eyelids fluttered closed, the world around you fading into the soft haze of sleep. And there, in the quiet of the night, you both drifted off together, tangled in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the quiet rise and fall of his chest.
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girllblogging777 · 4 months ago
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𝑈𝑁𝑇𝑂𝑈𝐶𝐻𝐴𝐵𝐿𝐸 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚
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↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (cousin’s best friend)
↳ word count : 0,6k
𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : mattheo riddle has never done feelings, but that was until draco’s french cousin transferred from beauxbatons
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you were “untouchable”. that’s what everyone thought. that’s what everyone said. the first word pronounced when someone mentioned you. the “mysterious french girl” the “exchange student from beauxbatons” and most of all “draco malfoy’s cousin”. you couldn’t go anywhere in this school without hearing those words. everyone knew better when it came to daring looking your way or crossing your path.
as mean and cold as he looked, your cousin draco had a habit of being quite overprotective when it came to you. since you had transferred to hogwarts a couple of months ago, you had never been seen without him and his friends. the slytherin boys all had quite the reputation in this school, and ever since draco had introduced you to them, you knew the other students would leave you alone.
however, the “untouchable” rule came to your cousin’s friends too. they knew better than that, and to be honest you didn’t care much. enzo was caring, blaise was loyal, theo was compassionate, but what you and them had was purely platonic. the only person to whom that rule didn’t apply was the one and only mattheo riddle. the captivating brunette had been draco’s ride or die since first year and unfortunately for you, that meant you had to spend a lot of time together. but for some reason, the boy always seemed to be avoiding you. it wasn’t obvious at first but you had started to notice it in the little things, like when he’d leave the great hall everytime you sat at their table or go for a cigarette break when you approached the boys at a party. “what did i do to make him hate me ?” you often thought. “he doesn’t even know me…”
you always ended up brushing it off by talking and joking with the other guys, who unlike mattheo, were always here for you. what you didn’t know was that the dark lord’s son didn’t hate you, he just hated what you made him feel. the way his heart fluttered when you were around was nothing but platonic, wich is why he always felt like bolting when you approached him.
but what could he do ? you were breathtakingly beautiful. hell, captivating even. the way your hair was always perfectly falling around your face like an angel. how you made the cutest sound when you laughed at his friends’ jokes. and that sweet accent of yours didn’t help. every word that rolled out of your tongue made him lose his mind. the minute you had walked inside the great hall back in september, he knew he was done for. “they weren’t lying when they said french people were attractive”. imagine what he felt when right after being sorted into slytherin, you ran into draco’s arms. did his best friend have a girlfriend ? how could he have missed that ? he was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard “meet my cousin, y/n y/l/n”. and that’s when he realised the mess he was in.
mattheo riddle wasn’t known to be a romantic guy, he didn’t do feelings. the only times he was seen with girls were during drunk make out sessions at parties, or quickies in broom closets when he needed some relief. all his life, he had stayed away from love and its problems. the “untouchable” girl was the compete opposite. you were a hopeless romantic, saving yourself for the perfect romance you had read and dreamt about ever since you were little. and most of all, you were his best friend’s little cousin. he knew he should’ve stayed away from you, and he really tried.
but everything changed after that one time…
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a/n : this is my first time writing so please give me some feedback !!! also please like, comment and reblog, i’m taking requests (tell me if you wanna be tagged in my posts <3)
@pizzaapeteer @tateshifts @iris-qt @deadghosy @mattheosdior @sadnymi
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago
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Down Home 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The world's most famous heroes walk into a small town diner and change your life.
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers
Note: Because of this.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all to Jupiter and back. Take care. 💖
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It’s a slow day. Every day is slow out in Tumble Down. The township’s name tells the whole story. Everything there is in decline. It’s hard to imagine there was ever a time when the people weren’t tiny and forgotten in the hubbub of the bigger world. Since the mines closed and the canning factory was outsourced, it feels even smaller. 
Smaller isn’t so bad. It’s simpler. You all know each other’s names and faces. You say hi and how are you and do what needs to be done. Simple is, simple as. 
You here there isn’t much to do in most small towns. Not for fun or for work. You’re one of the lucky ones. You got a job down at the diner in your sophomore year. It helped pay for your daddy’s new engine and since then, it keeps you all afloat in the rising waters of disparity as they close in on Tumble Down. 
You hum to the old radio that sits on the shelf you make sure to dust. The speakers crackle from time to time and the signal gets wonky in storm season, but the music’s never bad. It’s the classic stuff that always played in your mother’s kitchen. 
You wipe down another table. Not because it needs it, just because it’s something to do. The day has been long and listless. Even the breakfast rush was lower than usual. 
Darnell, the cook, whistles along from the back. Everyone knows he isn’t as mean as he looks. He just likes his space. 
As you go back to the counter and lean on it, staring at the ticking clock, a roar cuts through the distance. You blink and look up, narrowing your eyes at the dusty country road outside. Wind rustles through the tall wheat in the field opposite and the noise rumbles closer and closer. 
A man pulls in a motorbike. He’s going so fast that he has to circle the gravel lot before he can slow down. It’s not Lenny and his prized Harley but another man on a more modern-looking mount. Not far behind, another motorcycle zips through and the riders straddle their bikes as the survey the restaurant. 
You narrow your eyes. You probably need glasses but you make do. The last time you got your eyes checked, you didn’t have enough for the frames. 
The one man wears blue and red, an odd helmet on his head. Not a helmet at all but a sort of mask. The other man has dark hair to his chin and a beard to match. He’s all in black but his left arm shines with gold ripples. Not a sleeve, an arm, made of metal. 
“Oh my lord,” you murmur in shock, “Darnell!” You holler over your shoulder, “you’re not gonna believe this.” You turn to the window as he pokes his head around, “not sure I do myself. Tell me my eyes aren’t lyin’.” 
He looks above your head, an easy task for the mammoth cook. He hums and swirls around his spatula. “Thems those boys on the news. The one that was in the old war. Grandad’s battle.” 
“I’m not going crazy with boredom?” You bubble. 
He snorts. It’s as close to a laugh as you get from him. You spin back and hurry around the counter to grab a pair of menus. Still, you don’t want to seem too eager. You put down the menus and fiddle with a napkin holder instead. 
The bell over the door jingles and swipe up the menus and turn. You really can’t believe it’s them. Yet, as Captain America removes his cowl, you’re certain. They look just like they do on the TV. Even with your sight, you can tell. 
“Hello, fellas, how are you doin’ today?” 
The dark-haired one, the Winter Soldier, glances at the other, his cheek dimpling, “well... we’re... uh...” 
“We’re doing great,” Steve Rogers answers brightly. “Starving. You guys serve bacon? My buddy’s dying for some.” 
“Um, yes, sirs, yes. Can I sit ya down?” You ask, hugging the menus closer. 
“Please,” the Captain accepts as the other man stays silent and pensive, his eyes wandering down to the coffee stain on your apron. 
“Just here,” you sweep away and wave them on with you. You stop beside the nicest booth and lay down a menu on each side, “have a seat.” 
They do just as you bid. The blond puts his cowl on the table and unhooks the shield from his back to lay on the far end of the seat. He smooths back the sweaty strands of hair as his companion stretches his metal fingers. You sway nervously by the table, twitching as you remind yourself how to do your job. 
“Well, can I get ya started with coffee? You look beat from the road.” You beam with the smile Mr. Welk says could outshine the sun. 
“Not just the road,” the dark-haired one mutters as he rolls his shoulder. The one that connects to his real arm. “I’ll take one, please.” 
“Can I get an orange juice, please,” the Captain asks. 
“Course ya can. I’ll be right back. You have a look at the specials and give it a think,” you bounce and spin around. 
You go to pour the orange juice and a cup of black coffee. Darnell lingers by the window. He only ever really appears to put a plate up but he watches the new arrivals. 
You bring their drinks and step back, clasping your hands behind you. 
“Did ya need cream or sugar for your coffee, sir?” You ask. 
“Black’s fine,” he assures. 
“No need for the sirs. Steve, Bucky,” Captain America insists, “we’re off duty.” 
“Right, sorry about that, ssss...Steve,” you correct yourself. “You need some more time?” 
“Think I’m decided,” Bucky intones, “what about you?” 
“Set,” Steve confirms, “I’ll have the sunny side up with toast and sausage. Can I get some fruit on the side as well, please?” 
He hands over the menu and you take it as you hold your smile. Your cheeks ache. Not because you have to force it but because you can’t stop. This is the most exciting thing to happen in Tumble Down ever. If Darnell wasn’t there, no one would believe you. 
“Overeasy, bacon, extra bacon too, and some french toast, and uh... home fries.” Bucky offers up the second menu, “please and thank you.” 
“Alrighty,” you preen, “I’ll put your order in.” 
“Got it,” Darnell growls over the empty diner. 
“He’s got good hearing,” you giggle nervously as you look between the men. “Ummmm, sorry, I’ll leave ya be.” 
“You’re not bothering,” Steve assures. “I can see you’re dying to ask.” 
He gives a gentle smile. 
“Nah, oh, gosh. I’m sure ya get it all the time. I don’t wanna be one of those,” you put your hands up. “Really, you all look like you could use the peace and quiet.” 
“Well, actually, I’ve been stuck with this meathead for days,” Bucky scoffs, “so please, I’d love to hear someone else’s voice.” 
You laugh again. They’re funnier than you expect. They always look so serious on the TV. 
“What... what are y’all doing here in Tumble Down? It’s a bit far from... anywhere.” You ask sheepishly. 
“Tumble Down? Is that what it’s called?” Steve scratches his neck above his stained collar. “Well, we couldn’t get a signal so we’ve just been riding through. Saw the sign down the way and figured we’d get a bite.” 
“He’s lying. He was falling asleep on his bike,” Bucky teases. 
“Sure,” Steve shakes his head. “Only ‘cause I’m tired of you.” 
You giggle again, “I thought y’all were friends.” 
“Friends, partners, cursed with each other, have your pick,” Bucky snorts. 
“He’s playing,” Steve says. “Look, we’re boring. Despite what you think. We’re a couple of old men bickering with each other. What about you? What about Tumble Down?” 
“Ah, nothing really, sir. Steve,” you squeeze the menus tight at the edges. “Nothing going on since the coal law and that. Everyone’s all but run out. All but us.” 
“Just you? Your family?” Steve wonders. 
“Jesus, Steve, nosy much?” Bucky says over the brim of his mug. 
“Sorry. He’s right. Like I said. Crotchety old man. I talk to the pigeons.” 
You laugh again, “oh my, you are a hoot!” You slap your thigh emphatically, “I’m still my ma and pa. It’s just the three of us. They need help with the animals and that.” 
“Animals?” Steve wonders, his posture shifting towards you. 
“Chickens, cows. They got a farm. Was my grandpa’s. And his ma kept it going after he didn’t come home from... well, you’d know more about that time than me, I think.” You give a forlorn look to the floor. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry about your grandfather. Great grandfather,” he corrects himself. 
“Lotta good men gone,” Bucky mulls grimly. 
“Yeah, my great granny said as much. I wouldn’t know though, but I heard the stories,” you dare to look at them again. “Sorry to bring up the bad memories.” 
“Nah,” Bucky waves you off casually. “I got this nifty arm outta it.” 
“And I got a shield so, you know, not all losses,” Steve chuckles. 
“I s’pose,” you agree. “I’m gonna check on that food for ya. You good with your coffee?” 
Bucky raises the mug, “delicious.” 
You nod and turn with a swish of your skirt. You go up to the window and look over the ledge. “How’s it going, Darnell?” 
“Going. I’m happy it ain’t Raylene here. She’s got a mouth on her, don’t she? Them sort don’t deserve that trouble,” he tisks. 
“They’re nice. And Raylene is too. She’s just... Raylene,” you say, “can I help with anything?” 
“I don’t wanna be rude but I’m tired of tellin’ ya to stay outta my kitchen. You know the grill likes to spit,” he shakes his head. “You go, I’ll let ya know when it’s ready.” 
“Alright,” you back away and turn back. 
Steve and Bucky lean over the table, their voices low as they chat. As you move around behind the counter, they both sit up and the former clears his throat. You smile as you take the cloth from your apron pocket and wipe the already clean counter. 
As the radio buzzes, you hum without thinking. Stevie Ray Vaughan’s smoky voice mingles with the emotion plucked through electric strings. Your dad’s a big fan. He has old tapes with concerts on them and even went to one himself. 
The bell rings and you nearly jump out of your shoes. You turn and scoop up the plates as you thank Darnell. He grumbles that he’s going out to have a smoke; his code for having a Tootsie Pop by the backdoor. 
You bring the meals over to the table and set them down before the men. Their gazes make you sweat. It’s all a little more intense with no one else there. 
“Thank you,” Steve says and Bucky echoes him. 
“Not at all. Anything else? Water? Ketchup?” 
“It all looks great as is,” Steve says, “you got a nice voice.” 
“Oh, really? Ha, I was just humming out of tune. Sorry if I was too loud.” 
“Not at all,” Bucky picks up his fork as he leans forward. He tilts his head. “You know this one?” 
“Sure do. It’s Fleetwood Mac,” you answer. “One my all times.” 
He grins and nods as he looks at Steve. Steve watches you with a smile of his own. 
“Do you sing?” He asks. 
“Me? Only in my shower or to the chickens. They usually hide in the henhouse then.” You tinkle with laughter. 
“Ah,” Steve nods. 
“But if... if ya really wanna suffer, I could try it,” you smile, “but uh, you know, Stevie Nicks, she’s one of a kind.” 
“I’ve had worse,” Steve says. 
You look between him and Bucky. You chew your lip and think. You follow the song as you try to recognise which verse it is. You squint and perk up as you catch your place. 
“You just let me know when you’ve had enough,” you say before you start. Not only can you tell your pa that you met the super soldiers, you can tell him you sang for them. It’ll be a nice bit of excitement for the dinner table. 
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arieslost · 9 months ago
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sky full of stars | ln4
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summary: dj!lando always plays your song when you’re at the club.
word count: 3,615
warnings: drinking
masterlist — join my tag list here!
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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2021
You did not want to be in this club. You would need another pair of hands and feet to count off all the places you’d rather be, the very first one being asleep in your bed.
But here you were, not only in the club, but within a throng of people at varying levels of fucked up, jumping around and dancing to the song pounding through the speakers. Your comforts were twofold: the first was knowing that you could handle the two shots in your system, and the second was that your best friend was the designated driver tonight, so there was no way in hell she was going to leave without you.
Frankly, you’d been ready to leave an hour ago. In fact, you’d started saying the words, “I want to go home” when you caught a glimpse of the DJ in charge of tonight’s music. Granted, it was hard to really look at him considering the fact that the lights were low and you were on the other end of the club, but you’d seen just enough to know that he was attractive and any thought of leaving had gone right out the window. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t said anything when he started his set, so you didn’t even know what his voice sounded like.
You needed a closer look.
So here you were, surprisingly enjoying yourself on the dance floor while you tried to check him out without being overly conspicuous. You were only able to make out a head of curly hair and the large hand that lifted a shot glass to his lips when your phone started ringing, the buzz in your pocket the only indication thanks to the blaring music. You squinted at the screen, thinking it might be your friend trying to find you, but the caller ID read “Potential Spam,” so your phone went right back into your pocket. You were on a mission.
When you looked up, you made direct eye contact with the man of the hour– the DJ you found nothing short of infatuating. You were rather close to his setup, maybe ten people away, but you could feel his gaze on you as he picked up a microphone.
“This next song is dedicated to the gorgeous woman I’m looking at right now,” he announced to the whole room, sending a wink in your direction before getting to work on fading the current song into the new one– “A Sky Full of Stars” by Coldplay.
You felt goosebumps rising on your arms as the first few notes filled the room, suddenly glad that you were here and not at home, asleep. The lights moved in tandem to the beat of the song, and you finally got a proper look at his face. It’s then that you knew you were screwed, because if he wasn’t the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life, you’d be lying.
You barely had any time to pull yourself together before he was motioning for one of his friends to take over for him and stepping down from the booth into the crowd, making a beeline right for where you stood in the middle of it all.
“You’re awfully bold,” you said when he was close enough to hear you, a bit taken aback by how quickly he’d closed the distance between the two of you. “What makes you think I like this song?”
He didn’t answer at first, instead choosing to slowly run his hand down your arm until his fingers tangled with yours. “You have goosebumps, and I’d be shocked if you didn’t like it. When I played it last time, you came up to me and tried to take the mic so you could sing it to everyone.”
That’s another reason why you never made a habit out of going to the club. Somehow, it always got to the point where you lost your mind a little bit and somehow managed to find new ways to make an idiot out of yourself. But tonight was different– you were managing your alcohol intake, and the hot DJ was calling you out on something you’d been too drunk to remember the next morning.
Your friends hadn’t though; in fact, they’d been gracious enough to provide video proof of them dragging you away from the DJ booth. You’d never felt such shame as you did watching that back.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his free hand tilting your chin up so he could look right at you as he spoke. “It’s how I noticed you in the first place. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you since.”
At least one good thing came out of my foolishness, you thought to yourself as he took your other hand and put both of your arms around his neck. It made sense, anyway– you definitely would’ve remembered seeing him before had you been sober.
“I’m not a very good dancer,” you warned him as he began to sway to the music, taking you along with him as his hands went down to your hips.
“Neither am I,” he confided, lips close to your ear.
The chorus began, the song’s beat drop making the lights change from red to blue, and you decided that you would let this happen, even if it turned into another embarrassing memory. At least you would remember this time, and you’d never forget swaying back and forth with the handsome DJ as the rest of the crowd danced around you both.
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2022
You were in the club again, and you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Spending so much time with your favorite DJ, Lando Norris, will do that to you. After that first dance, he bought you a couple drinks and didn’t go back to the DJ booth for the rest of the night due to you dragging him right back out into the crowd and dancing with him until your feet hurt too much to stand. Eventually, your best friend had found you and told you it was time to go, and in your tipsy state you’d kept your arms firmly around Lando, said something about “holding him hostage,” and vehemently refused to go anywhere. It wasn’t until he gave you his number that you allowed your best friend to take you home.
He texted you right away when he woke up that morning, and the day after the two of you went on your first date. He surprised you by taking you to a rather high-end restaurant; you’d pegged him for a more low-key guy when it came to dates, despite the fact that he’d dedicated a song to you in front of a club full of people, and you were proved correct when you were on the phone with him later that night.
“I don’t even like going out that much,” he confessed, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. “I just thought you deserved something special for a first date so I didn’t look like a loser.”
“You could have just told me that,” you giggled. “The dress code for our next date can be sweats.”
You still remembered the way his eyes lit up when you said “our next date.” That next date, a movie marathon at your apartment, had turned into countless dates, and you never went back to that restaurant.
Now, you were in the club where the two of you first met to celebrate your one year anniversary. Lando was wearing a white button up, and had just unbuttoned the top two buttons to reveal more of his tan skin and the gold chain around his neck. You’d given him a look, and he’d complained that “it’s just so hot in here,” but the both of you knew he was just doing it to rile you up.
It was working.
Your hands gravitated to the newly exposed skin, palms running up along his shoulders and fingers dipping beneath his collar to gently scratch at his back. You could spend all night running your hands over his skin, and he’d be happy to let you do it. He leaned closer to you, nearly stepping on your toes as his arms looped around your waist.
“You really weren’t lying last year when you said you were a bad dancer.” You laughed at the affronted look on his face.
“I think I’ve gotten better, thank you very much.” He said, and promptly stepped directly on your foot. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry!”
You only laughed harder, pulling him into a kiss. You could feel the vibrations of his own laughter against your lips.
“Wait right here,” he instructed, breaking the kiss. “I’ve got something for you.”
He kissed your cheek and disappeared into the crowd.
The song playing began fading out, which caught your attention because it was in the middle of the chorus. You didn’t need Lando’s DJ knowledge to know that it was a strange decision to fade a song out long before it was over.
“Attention, everyone. We had a special request tonight from a familiar face,” the DJ announced before passing the microphone to none other than your boyfriend.
“This next song goes out to my beautiful girlfriend,” Lando said, pointing directly at you and causing your face to get hot when half the room looked in the direction of his finger. “Happy one year, baby. I love you.”
Your jaw dropped as the familiar opening notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” started playing. Not just because of the song, but because of those three special words. I love you. You’d only said it to each other a handful of times, and Lando had just said it to you in front of hundreds of people.
You met him in the middle of the floor, too impatient to wait until he got back to you.
“I love you, I love you so much!” You yelled over the music, kissing him again.
“One year is just the beginning, yeah?” He asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, cheeks hurting from smiling so wide.
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2023
You were wrapped up in Lando’s arms as you stood before his setup. In the past year, he had been promoted to be the main talent for the club and had three sets every weekend. He had insisted that the only gift he wanted from you for your two year anniversary was that you help him DJ his next set, and you’d obviously agreed. You got him a necklace anyway, but kept your promise so long as he promised to help you gain at least some skills beforehand so the audience wouldn’t kick you out for being shit. After a week or so, you felt confident enough with the buffer of the knowledge you’d picked up over the past two years to be where you were now– fading one song into another almost seamlessly.
Lando would take his hands off of you for only seconds at a time to adjust something here or there and make the music flow as smoothly as possible. Otherwise, he was all over you for the whole club to see, and you were kind of obsessed with it. He was hardly paying attention to anything else; only moving on autopilot to fiddle with the knobs or whatever it was he was doing to make you look like an adequate DJ.
“Did I do okay?” You asked towards the end of the set, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who hadn’t stopped smiling at you since you left the apartment and arrived at the club early to set up.
“Are you kidding? I think I might be out of a job after tonight,” he said, threading his fingers into your hair to pull you into a long kiss. “At least I would be, if I didn’t have this party trick under my sleeve.”
Slightly dazed from the passion of his kiss, you let him lean around you and queue up a song that wasn’t originally in the mix for that evening’s set.
At this point, you should have expected it, and maybe you did a little bit, but that didn’t stop the tears from pricking your eyes and the goosebumps rising on your arms when “A Sky Full of Stars” began, sending the crowd into a chorus of cheers.
“It works every time,” he said cheekily, reaching up to wipe away the tears that had escaped.
“You are unbelievable.” It was meant to be said in jest, but you were just so filled with love and adoration for him that it sounded like a compliment.
“Dance to our song with me,” he said, spinning you and tugging you forward so you bumped right into his chest.
“Here?” You looked behind you, at the set up, at the hundreds of people, and he took your chin in his hand and turned your face back to him.
“Here. Now. I want them all to see how much I love you.” He said it so sweetly that, in that moment, you were willing to give him just about whatever he wanted.
He started singing the song to you, “‘Cause in a sky, ‘cause in a sky full of stars, I think I saw you,” and it felt like you were the only two people in the room when the beat dropped and you kissed him with everything you had, letting him sway you back and forth and spin you around one too many times just to see his smile and hear his giddy laugh.
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2024
You’re surprised when Lando tells you that he’s made different plans for your three year anniversary. The club has become a second home of some sorts; you’re there more often than not to watch his sets, and you’ve always gone there for your anniversaries. Not just the years, but the six month, year and a half, and two and a half year anniversaries as well. Thus, the sudden deviation from tradition raises a few alarm bells in your head. If anything, you’d expect a change for your four years next year since 4 is your boyfriend’s lucky number.
You don’t have time to dwell on it that much. You have to be out the door in ten minutes, and you still have to finish applying your lipstick, not to mention strap yourself into the sparkling silver heels Lando had gotten you for Christmas.
“Almost ready, baby?” He asks, peeking into the bathroom and watching as you add one last swipe of lipstick.
“Yup! Just need my—” you’re cut off when he holds up the heels. “—shoes. Thanks, Lan.”
“Here, sit. I’ll put them on for you.” He gestures to the edge of the tub.
You take him up on his offer happily, and your heart jumps up into your throat when he stares right into your eyes and slowly gets down on one knee before you.
You’d overheard him talking about possibly proposing to you with your parents over the holiday break, and you hadn’t been stealthy about it at all, so he knows that you heard. Since then, he’s made a game out of getting on one knee in front of you every now and then. He already did it once this morning when he woke you up only to tell you that he made you breakfast. You know he’s joking, but now that you’re celebrating a significant milestone in your relationship you can’t help but have a slight inkling that his joking around is less of a joke and more of a hint.
So when he holds your gaze long enough to make you start thinking that it might actually happen before going about putting your shoes on, you’re not at all fazed and ruffle his hair.
“Hey! Easy, I spent a lot of time making my hair look good for you.” He yelps, jumping up to look in the mirror and patting it down meticulously.
“I like it when it’s messy,” you reply, giving him a look that you know drives him crazy.
“You can’t say that and look at me that way when we’re trying to leave the house, babe.” He whines.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You make sure the straps on your heels are tight enough before you stand up, pleased that your retaliation to his down-on-one-knee joke worked better than you thought it would. “Come on, I don’t want to be late!”
He wastes no time in getting his payback for your antics when you arrive at the restaurant he took you to for your very first date. He opens the car door for you, and takes your hand to help you step out. The moment you’re on the sidewalk and the door is closed behind you, he gets down on one knee again, making a point to look at you the entire time. Your heart jumps again. Certainly he wouldn’t do it on the sidewalk? Or maybe he would, to add to the element of surprise?
He doesn’t. He simply ties his shoelace, the picture of innocence all the while.
“Shall we?” He says as he straightens up, offering his arm with a smile.
You retain your own picture of innocence, wrapping your hand around his bicep. “We shall.”
Seeing that he had booked the private dining room has more alarm bells going off in your head, not to mention the fact that you thought you’d never see the inside of this restaurant again. Regardless, you were actually kind of happy to be somewhere quieter to celebrate your anniversary, as much as you’ve fallen in love with being at the club.
Lando clears his throat loudly towards the end of your meal as the waiter pours two glasses of champagne. “Three years,” he begins, sounding somewhat awestruck.
You nod in agreement. “Three years. Sick of me yet?”
“I don’t think that’s possible.” He passes you a glass, and you clink them together before you each take a sip. “Actually, I’d really love to just spend my entire life with you.”
Now he’s not even trying to hide it, so you laugh a little bit. “That’s sweet, Lan.”
“I’m serious,” he pouts, and you try to contain yourself, painting a serious expression on your face and nodding as you press your lips together. “Fine, I admit it. I went a little too far with the joke.”
“Which time? Are we talking about just today or the past few weeks?” You ask pointedly, taking another sip of your champagne.
“Okay, a lot too far.” He huffs, getting out of his chair and pushing it in before walking to your side of the table. “I want to make up for it right now though, if that’s alright with you.”
“Oh my God. You’re actually serious?” You ask, feeling your insides beginning to shake a little with giddiness as he gets down on one knee before you for the fourth time today.
“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a small box.
It looks a bit different than ring boxes normally look, and the moment he opens it you understand why. The notes of “A Sky Full of Stars” emit from within the box where the ring sits, the dazzling diamond sparkling when it catches the light.
“Fuck’s sake, Lando, I wouldn’t have spent so much time on my makeup if I knew you were gonna do this,” you sniffle, putting a hand over your mouth.
“I’ll keep it short because I don’t want to cry too much and ruin it,” he promises, taking your free hand in his own, the other holding the box out to you. “I’ve never been happier to be borderline assaulted by a drunk girl in the middle of a set, because if that never happened I don’t know if we would’ve met.”
You start laughing hysterically, tears most definitely ruining your makeup, and he laughs through his own tears.
“I just love you so much, every little thing about you. It would take me eternity to tell you how much I love you, and that wouldn’t even be enough time with you. So, that’s why I want to ask you to be with me beyond eternity and do me the honor of being my wife.” He says your name like he’s saying it for the first time, taking his time to savor the way it rolls off his tongue. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you nod. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Hand shaking, he slips the ring onto your finger. The moment it’s in place, he puts his other knee down and pulls you into the tightest hug as the song continues playing from the box.
“I love you,” you whisper in his ear, feeling his shoulders shake slightly as he cries. “But did you have to give me a heart attack so many times today?”
He laughs, pulling away and grabbing a napkin to gently wipe your eyes. “Four’s my lucky number, I had to do it three other times today to make sure I got it right.”
The song comes to an end, and you pick up the box, observing the intricate design and the engraving on the outside– You get lighter the more it gets dark. I’m going to give you my heart. Forever.
“You know this has to be the song we dance to for the first time as Mr. and Mrs. Norris, right?” You say to him, leaning in and kissing the tears off of his cheeks.
“Way ahead of you, baby. I already started making our playlist; it’s the first song on there.”
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note: the fact that i’m posting this after lando confirmed he “retired” from dj-ing… call this my long-winded eulogy. special thanks to coldplay for making a song that inspired a whole story!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are always appreciated <33
beautiful dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @thef1diary @clara760-blog @baby-moxley @positiveaspirations @xfuckoffx @hannahbrown2002 @cataalinababeyy @inejghafawifesblog @formulasportworld @meandjoemama @maddie-bell @mrsmaybank13 @hadids-world @havaneselover08 @aacherrylips @itsmoonia @universallyhoundbonkfestival @rery30 @paigeworlds @wassgood @itscrzy @ctrlyomomma @inlovewithdeadboys @multifandomfan1 @bwormie @megsmclaren @barackostea @enchantemirrorball @tiredallthetimex @cosmoscoffeee @mlilyb16 @ophcelia @idktbhhsworld @l-inas @kath8278 @formulaangel55 @y-nusername @sla123455ffh @dinodumbass @diaa-20 @alexmarie29 @lisoba13 @ftdtlovecore @clowngirlsstuff @jurelij @romanxffs @sadisticfries @loyalpuffofthehuffle @cherrue @itsprashimusic @danielmarie @dampcelery0294 @shasasthings @bringbacktim @lou-larcher5 @yunakynn @hanbinnneee
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months ago
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don't want to move on
for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt 'make-up sex'
rated e | 18+, minors dni | 3165 words | read all tags on ao3
❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
If Steve knows one thing, it’s that Eddie knows how to get under his skin and in his bed.
Ever since their breakup, a disaster of epic proportions for the entire friend group, Steve’s kept his distance from every possible interaction with Eddie. He’s made sure to find reasons to miss group outings and put himself on the schedule at work on the nights when he knew Eddie would be at movie nights or dinner. He purposely scheduled pool parties for days and times he knew Eddie would be busy.
But he couldn’t get out of this one.
And now he has Eddie’s eyes on him from across the room, staring into his soul, reading his mind probably.
It makes him want to hide. Or take his pants off.
He hasn’t quite decided yet.
“Are you gonna glare at him all night or go talk to him?” Jonathan asks from behind him.
Steve turns, feels ridiculous that he’s been caught, and crosses his arms across his chest defiantly.
“I’m gonna ignore him until he leaves and then excuse myself so I can sulk in peace,” Steve admits.
Robin was his platonic soulmate, but Jonathan has become a sort of unexpected best friend. He was there the morning after the breakup, barely holding Steve together with spoonfuls of peanut butter and reassuring words that didn’t stick quite as hard as the peanut butter. They got even closer after that, and hardly a day passed where Jonathan wasn’t texting Steve or showing up at his apartment with take out and stories from whatever modeling shoot he was working on.
“And you think he’s gonna let that happen?”
“If he knows what’s good for him.”
Jonathan snorts. “Okay. On that note, I’m gonna go check on Nancy. She got into the weed earlier and she’s probably at the stage where the walls are squiggly and she can feel her lungs touching her ribs.”
Steve’s eyes widen and he nods. He knows what she’s like at that point. Jonathan needs to get her home before everyone knows what she’s like at that point.
The moment Jonathan is gone, Eddie is walking towards him.
Steve’s never felt more like prey in his life, never seen Eddie strut like this. He’s frozen. He forgets how to breathe.
“Didn’t know you’d be here,” are the first words Eddie says to him in six months.
No hello. No awkward exchange of pleasantries.
Just a mild accusation and a piercing look.
“I wouldn’t be if I’d known you’d be here,” he retorts, deciding to match his energy. If Eddie is allowed to be at this party of a mutual friend’s mutual friend, then Steve is too. “Didn’t even know Ivy had your number.”
Ivy was one of Nancy’s friends from school, and Steve had been invited to quite a few of her parties over the last few years. When they were together, Steve always brought Eddie, but he didn’t know if Ivy and Eddie had ever even met.
“I know Ivy pretty well, actually,” Eddie says in a way that makes Steve pause.
What the fuck does that mean?
“So you’re…friends?” Steve asks even though he thinks he knows where this is going and he thinks he’s gonna be sick if he’s right.
“Yeah.” Eddie smirks. “Friends.”
“Oh.”
Steve has to abort whatever mission he thought he was on. This is gonna end with him crying in front of Eddie and everyone else at this stupid party that he came to because he’d had a rough week and just wanted to have a drink with friends and-
“Are you gonna be sick?” Eddie asks, reaching out to him as if that would even help.
“No!” Steve backs away. “I just need to head out. Got an early morning.”
“On a Sunday? You don’t work Sundays.”
“And how would you know?”
Steve needs to leave. He can’t engage in anything else with Eddie. He won’t recover.
“Because you wouldn’t have come at all if you had work in the morning. And everyone you would hang out with is here.” Eddie steps closer to him. “Unless something’s changed?”
Steve shakes his head. “I’m not sure I owe you an explanation of my schedule.”
Eddie seems to realize that Steve’s right, taking a step back.
“Right. That’s true. I guess.”
And suddenly Steve can see how uncomfortable Eddie is, how much courage and energy it took him just to walk up to Steve at all. He’s always been pretty easy to read, at least for Steve, but right now it’s like he’s made of glass.
“How you been?” Steve asks, ignoring the pull he feels to the door for the pull he feels to Eddie.
“Um, good. Yeah, great. Fantastic. You?”
Steve raises a brow at the response. Eddie’s never been fantastic a day in his life.
Except maybe that one time he ate Steve out on a patio chair by the pool and then fucked him in his parent’s hot tub and claimed that he’d never been happier in his entire life.
“I’ve been fine.”
Not a lie. He has been fine most of the time. Fine isn’t anything special, or anything good.
“You look…good.” Eddie settles on, as if he was going to say something else entirely. “Still going to the gym?”
“Not as often as I should,” Steve admits. He’s about to call this quits when he sees Jonathan giving him a thumbs up from the doorway. “Uh. I should actually probably head out though.”
“Right. Yeah. Sure. Want me to let Ivy know you had to go?”
Steve shouldn’t fucking push. He knows he’s gonna end up hurt worse if he gets any form of confirmation on what he thinks is going on.
“I’ll just text her. But I guess if you see her before you go…”
“I mean, yeah, I’m kinda…living here right now?” Eddie rubs his hand along the back of his neck.
Steve thinks he might pass out.
He’s living with a woman not even six full months after he broke up with Steve because Steve wanted to take the next step and move in together?
He feels like he’s going crazy.
“With Ivy?” Steve can barely hear his own voice, doesn’t even know if Eddie hears him until he responds.
“I couldn’t renew my lease so she offered to let me stay here for a few months while I looked for something else,” he explains, as if that clears anything up. As if that helps the jealous fire in Steve’s heart calm. “That’s the only reason I’m even here tonight. I was off and she needed an extra pair of eyes to make sure no one tried to drive home after drinking.”
“Well, I haven’t even been drinking.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“You think I’ve looked anywhere other than you since you walked in the door?”
Steve feels like his entire body is lifting above the floor, and he’s reminded that Eddie’s good at this. Flirting like he means it, using words but not wanting more than that.
That he may have feelings for Steve, but god forbid those feelings lead anywhere other than a bed or a date.
“Doesn’t seem appropriate to stare at me all night with your girlfriend in the next room.”
“Girlfriend? What? I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Eddie seems genuinely confused, his brows furrowing as he looks around the room and back at Steve.
“Isn’t Ivy your girlfriend?”
“Ivy?! Ivy Jane? The woman who told me on day one of me living here that if she even so much as accidentally saw my dick she’d cut it off?” Eddie laughs, unamused. “She’s a friend at most. More of a useful annoyance.”
Steve is confused. Why did Eddie make it seem like there was more to it than that? Why couldn’t Eddie renew his lease? Why didn’t anyone tell him about any of this?
“Look, you probably shouldn’t head home on your own. I know you didn’t drink, but it’s still pretty late, and I know you walked here.” Eddie sighs. “Can I at least get you an Uber?”
“To go less than a mile?”
“Or I could walk you.”
“And then walk back alone?”
“You don’t have to argue with everything, you know,” Eddie grumbles. “I’m just trying to make sure you’re safe.”
“I didn’t know ex-boyfriends cared that much.”
It’s a low blow and Eddie’s physical withdrawal is immediate. Steve instantly feels bad.
No matter what happened between them, he knows Eddie. He knows he’s trying to be nice and all Steve’s doing is making that task more difficult.
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Steve sighs. “I’m just surprised that you’d care this much when we haven’t even talked in months.”
“Steve, I’ll always care about you.”
It’s a knife to his chest.
Because that’s not even remotely close to what Eddie had said to him months ago when he was throwing his shit in a bag and running as fast as he could. It’s not how he made Steve feel when he told him they were done.
”I’m not gonna keep pretending this can end well for either of us.”
He’d made it pretty obvious he had no intention of loving Steve beyond the year they spent together, and Steve had no choice but to assume he’d been faking feelings for him to try to get over him.
Steve doesn’t realize he’s let tears fall until Eddie’s thumbs are brushing them away, his touch so soft it makes Steve want to sob.
Before he can say anything or push Eddie away, Eddie’s hand is on his lower back, guiding him down the hallway of the apartment.
He doesn’t fight it, even though alarm bells are ringing in his head telling him to pause and go home, maybe try to talk to Eddie when he’s calmed down from the shock of seeing him. The warmth of Eddie next to him is enough to silence any fears he has.
He’s sitting on Eddie’s bed. The room is surprisingly plain for a room that belongs to Eddie, but the sheets on the bed are scattered and one pillow looks more like a ball, so he knows it’s his. Eddie sleeps the same way he talks: constantly moving, shuffling around, trying to find comfort in touch.
“I’ll take the couch once everyone leaves. You probably shouldn’t be alone right now,” Eddie says from in front of him, keeping his hands to himself.
He probably shouldn’t, but if Eddie’s on the couch, doesn’t that leave him alone anyway?
“You can come get me if you need anything,” Eddie explains further. “And I can come check on you.”
“Right,” Steve’s voice is shaky. “But you could stay?”
Eddie’s eyes are scanning his face, always trying to see what Steve isn’t saying. He’s always been good about reading Steve.
“Is that what you want?” Eddie eventually asks.
Steve nods because he can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound like he’s desperate for more of Eddie’s touch.
He lays down and waits for Eddie to join him, but he’s not sure what he’s hoping for anymore. The best thing to do would be to tell Eddie he changed his mind and send him to the couch, the second best would probably be to go home. But what ends up happening is Eddie locks the bedroom door and slips his shoes off, strips his jeans down his legs, and slides into bed with him.
He doesn’t touch him at first, though the bed isn’t quite big enough for them to not accidentally brush arms as they find comfortable positions.
Steve lets his eyes close, even though he’s never felt more awake, even though he feels every breath Eddie takes as if it’s his own.
“I love you.”
Steve’s eyes shoot open at Eddie’s whispered confession.
They were together for a year and Eddie never said it. Steve didn’t even say it for fear of Eddie running. And when he finally did say it, when he had the nerve to ask him to move in with him, Eddie ran.
So, he couldn’t have possibly heard what he thought he just heard.
“I know it’s too late. I should’ve told you six months ago.” Eddie scoffed at his own words. “Actually, I should’ve told you when I realized it on our third date. There’s no excuse. You told me why you were hesitant to tell people how you felt and I should’ve known it would be harder for you than it would be for me.”
Steve turns on his side, eyes wide as he takes in the way Eddie’s eyes are slowly blinking up at the ceiling, fingers tapping anxiously against his own stomach.
“Why did you leave, then? If you loved me, why did you let me think you didn’t?”
Steve’s impressed with his sudden ability not to cry when he’d so easily let tears fall earlier.
Eddie turns his head. His fingers still. The room is silent, but Steve can feel the vibrations of the music playing down the hall.
“I don’t know.”
It’s anticlimactic, and not good enough, but Steve believes him. He believes that Eddie truly doesn’t know his own thought process behind walking away from what could’ve been a good future for them.
“Why say it now?”
“Because I needed you to leave here in the morning knowing that what you were asking for wasn’t unreasonable. I needed you to know that your feelings were fine, and that nothing you did pushed me away. You deserve the chance to move on properly.”
Steve can feel his heart in every nerve ending of his body, pulsing to a wild beat, a dangerous tempo that he isn’t sure he wants to control. Eddie always made him feel like this, like he was one step away from jumping off a ledge, like he was flying through the air without a parachute.
“I don’t want to move on.”
Steve crushes his lips to Eddie’s, letting out a pained groan that’s muffled by Eddie’s lips pushing against his own. It’s not soft, not even gross the way their kisses got when they’d been sweaty and pushing each other to their limits for hours.
It was forgiveness and yearning and need wrapped into a single point of contact.
But once Eddie’s hands found Steve’s hips, all he wanted was to feel Eddie everywhere.
“Missed you,” he admits breathlessly.
“Missed you, too, Stevie. So much,” Eddie gasps against his mouth.
It doesn’t take long for them to strip out of their clothes, for Eddie’s mouth to find all of Steve’s sensitive spots, for bruises to be left in places that will be hard to cover up tomorrow. They’re both panting, trying to hide moans against the pillows and sweaty skin.
Steve laughs when Eddie’s lips trail down to the head of his leaking cock.
Eddie looks up, frowning as if he’s disappointed that he was interrupted.
“What could you possibly be laughing at?”
“How easy it was to get me in your bed. Did you know I was coming tonight?” He does his best not to sound accusatory, but a small part of him worries that Eddie’s plan all night has been to get him naked. It wouldn’t be the first time those were his intentions.
“I had no idea you’d be here,” Eddie nips at his thigh. “But if I did, I would’ve planned this exact outcome, yeah.”
Steve slaps at his shoulder but moans when Eddie’s lips wrap around the head of his cock, tongue lapping up the precum that had been gathering for a while.
They get lost in it, in being able to touch each other, in finally having what they’d both missed for so long. Steve’s hands hardly ever leave Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s tongue is like a magnet to every inch of his skin.
He kisses down his length, he sucks bruises into his thighs, he sucks his cock until Steve’s trembling under him, saying his name over and over. Begging, praying, he didn’t even know anymore.
Steve doesn’t even realize he’s close until Eddie’s asking if he wants to finish like this or with Eddie inside him.
“Want you inside, but I don’t know if I can last that long,” Steve pouts. Now that he feels the coil in his belly and the flush of his chest and neck, he knows there’s no way he’ll make it through Eddie stretching him. He’s half-tempted to just have Eddie fuck him with no prep, but Eddie will never go for it. “C’mere?”
Eddie kisses his way up Steve’s body, biting a nipple and licking sweat from his collarbone before settling perfectly between his legs. He’s smiling down at Steve like he could stay there all night, like he didn’t just get interrupted in the middle of one of the best blowjobs of Steve’s life.
“Can we just…” Steve tilts his hips up so his cock rubs against Eddie’s. Both of them groan as Eddie hangs his head. “Like this?”
Eddie nods before resting his forehead against Steve’s and letting out a breath.
“I’m not gonna last long,” he whispers, like it’s a secret that he’s been getting off making Steve feel good.
“Me either. ‘S okay.”
Their cocks brush together as Eddie leans down on his elbows. Steve lifts his legs up to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him down so there’s a constant friction between them.
“Fuck, I love you.”
“I love you,” Steve’s breath catches on his words.
Eddie’s hips move faster, and Steve does his best to meet every thrust. They’re in sync as if they were never apart, and Steve thinks this is all he needs for the rest of his life.
He knew that before, when they were together, and after Eddie left. But feeling it now, with Eddie above him, surrounding him, practically sharing his breaths, he knows Eddie’s it for him.
That thought is what sends him over the edge.
He cups Eddie’s cheek in his hand and pulls him into a searing kiss, one that’s more tongue and teeth than lips, more passion than finesse.
But it sends Eddie over the edge, too.
After, when they’ve stopped shaking and Eddie used his t-shirt to wipe up their mess, Steve taps his fingers against Eddie’s chest in a familiar pattern.
“Since when do you know the beat to a Metallica song?” Eddie asks, smirking down at him.
“It’s what you always used to tap on my arm when we were falling asleep. I didn’t know it was Metallica,” Steve yawns as he speaks, exhaustion seeping through every pore of his body.
“You remembered that?”
“Mhm. Remember everything.” He yawns again and lets his eyes close.
He’s pretty sure Eddie starts tapping a new pattern on his arm as he drifts to sleep. He doesn’t recognize it, but he’ll have plenty of time to learn this one, and the next one, and whatever else the future brings for them.
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folkwhoredoll · 8 months ago
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soothing touch - rafe cameron x fem!reader
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pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
synopsis: after a tiresome week, your boyfriend knows just how to help
word count: 2.1k
warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex, nipple play), soft bf!rafe
a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever say this enough but thank you for your support! however i might be inactive for the next days or weeks because easter break is over :< but i promise to keep writing whenever i can <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!
masterlist
+*:ꔫ:*﹤
“Baby, come lay with me.” You heard your boyfriend whine from the bed.
“Just a few more minutes, Rafey. I need to finish this essay, or I’ll lose my train of thought.” You replied without looking at him, eyes steady between your laptop screen and keyboard.
Rafe groaned, growing impatient after hearing you use the same excuse for the third time.
It had been over two hours since he laid on the bed and over two hours that you refused to join him. The past weeks have made you busy, considering you were a graduating student. There were deadlines here and there, you have experienced sleepless nights for the past few days, and coffee is probably the only liquid cursing through your veins.
Rafe knew it was coming and made sure to help in any way possible, but it doesn’t mean he was okay with it. He missed taking you out on dates and golfing sessions, but it has been almost a month since he was able to do so.
He came to your house a few hours ago and brought you snacks you felt incredibly grateful for. You welcomed and greeted him, then returned to your room to sit in front of your laptop.
“I’m sorry, babe. I promise I’ll just finish this essay, and then we can cuddle, okay?” You offered to him softly, feeling bad that you’d ignored him.
Rafe, who has a stern exterior towards other people, is always soft towards you. His eyes softened upon hearing your offer, wanting nothing more than for you two to spend the night together.
“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”
You flashed him a smile, your fingers desperately working to finish your essay.
Around half an hour later, you were typing out the last sentence for your draft. You inhaled deeply and stretched your back before shutting down the computer, deciding that you would just do your revisions in the morning.
“Finally.” You heard Rafe’s voice, making you chuckle, and excitedly made your way to the bed where your boyfriend was adorably tucked in the covers. “Hi, baby.”
You crawled in his arms, feeling extremely relaxed now that you were out of your stiff chair. “Hi, Rafey.”
“What do you want to do now?” He asked you sweetly, letting you decide depending on how you were feeling.
You thought momentarily, looking at the time and realizing it was almost midnight. Yet, surprisingly, you didn’t feel an ounce of sleepiness.
“Hmm, I don’t know. I’m not sleepy yet. You?”
 “Nah. I’m not sleepy, too.” Rafe shook his head before an idea popped into his mind. “You want me to give you a massage?”
Without hesitation, you agreed, nodding your head quickly. “Yes, please. My back hurts so much.”
Rafe gave you a pitied look. “Aw, baby. I got you; go get ready.”
You positioned yourself on the bed, grabbing a pillow where you can rest your head on. You sat up for a while to remove the thin sweater that hugged your torso. Your bra followed after you skillfully removed the clasps on your back. The amount of times that Rafe had seen you naked has made you shameless in making such gestures in front of him.
Meanwhile, Rafe watched your actions as he positioned himself behind you, hungrily eyeing your bare back before reminding himself that he was supposed to help you relax.
“Lay down on your stomach, pretty girl.” He spoke.
You did as he asked, sighing relief when your front side made contact with your sheets.
Knowing your room like the back of his hand, Rafe grabbed a bottle of lavender oil from your bedside drawer. He squeezed out a small amount, only enough to cover your back. Once satisfied, he warmed up the oil by rubbing it between his palms before putting it on your skin.
You let out a soft moan at the contact; the minty feeling from the oil and the feeling of your boyfriend’s large hands on your back made you instantly relax.
Rafe continued to give you a massage until his hands were dry from the oil, giving your back continuous strokes while you were on the verge of sleeping.
Little do you know, your breathy sighs have awakened something in Rafe.
He cleared his throat after several minutes, leaning down to check if you were sleeping. After seeing your opened eyes, Rafe relaxed and gave you a smile. “You feeling better?”
You mumbled a ‘yes,’ groaning as you slowly turned around on your back. “Thank you, Rafe.”
Rafe replied nothing, instead just lowering his face to yours in order to press a kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, making Rafe go crazy. He wanted nothing more than to go further but hesitated as he thought of your tired body.
Unexpectedly, you were the one who deepened the kiss, your hands subtly moving up to his hair.
“Baby…” Rafe gasped, pulling away slightly. “Are you not tired?”
“Not really.” You said honestly as you looked into his eyes. “Feels good, Rafe. Please.”
Your words were confirmation for Rafe, making him press his lips back to yours. You let out a gasp when your boyfriend’s lips went from your mouth to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin softly.
“Hey, no marks.” You reminded him, remembering the time that your parents almost fainted when they saw Rafe’s love marks on your neck and chest.
“Yes, ma’am.” He cheekily smiled.
Rafe’s attention was suddenly on your breasts. He already had easy access to them after you removed your top. You moaned in surprise when his lips wrapped around your left nipple, your back arching as you tried to catch your breath.
“Rafe.” You heaved when his mouth attached to your other nipple, his fingers now working simultaneously as he toyed with the other one. When he was satisfied with the attention that he gave to your breasts, he straightened up his posture, and you took the opportunity to start removing his shirt.
You quickly get rid of his shirt, throwing it sideways as you focus on his shorts.
“Someone’s excited.” He chuckled.
“It’s been a while.” You pouted.
“I know, sweetheart. We have a lot of time.” Rafe replied softly. He pecked your lips once before crouching down. “Lift your hips slightly, baby. Let me take this off of you.”
You obeyed, pushing yourself up from the bed to allow Rafe to pull down your shorts and underwear. You took a deep breath at the realization that you were fully exposed but paid no attention when you caught Rafe eyeing your pussy while licking his lips.
“Well, what do we have here?” He smirked, his right-hand landing gently on your thigh.
“Rafe…” You whined lowly, feeling frustrated as his fingers teased you by drawing random circles along your skin.
“What do you want, Y/n?” He asked innocently.
You groaned. “Stop teasing me.”
He smirked. Rafe loves nothing more than seeing you surrender to his touches. And right now, he’s enjoying the growing smell and wetness of your arousal.
Removing his hand from your thigh, he pressed a finger against your clit. You jolted forward; the pressure alone is enough to stimulate pleasure to your core. “Fuck.”
Rafe’s finger gently circled your clit, both his cock and smile becoming more prominent at the sight of you. He surprised you by pressing two fingers in, his thumb taking over your clit. He began pumping, enjoying your moans mixed with the sound of your wet folds.
“Fucking hell, Rafe. More.” You demanded through deep breaths, your chest rising and falling.
He didn’t respond, pulling out his fingers after a few moments. Your brows pinched together in confusion, looking at him as he brought his fingers to his mouth.
“You taste amazing, darling.” He smirked and watched as you stared at his lips. After licking his two fingers clean, he lifted his hands and brought his thumb to your face. “Open.”
Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and took his thumb in. You sucked, tasting yourself and letting out a moan while maintaining eye contact.
“Fuck.” Rafe spoke, feeling his cock straining. “I was planning to go soft on you. But you seem more eager than I do.”
After you’re done licking his finger, he pulls down his trousers and underwear. Despite seeing him naked multiple times, you still can’t help but be amazed at his size, your thoughts growing wild with desire.
You watched as Rafe kneeled before you, his eyes on the same level as your folds. He pulled you nearer to him, your lower half almost hanging off the edge of the table as he wrapped your legs around his shoulder.
“You gotta keep quiet, baby. We don’t want to get caught by your parents, do we?”
Without any warning, Rafe pressed his face to your pussy, his tongue expertly slipping inside and sucking on your clit.
“Fuck!” You moaned aloud, instantly forgetting his words as you pressed your weight against the bookshelf behind you.
He slapped your thigh softly. “What did I just say?”
You ignored him, too focused on the pleasure that you’re feeling to control the sounds from your mouth. You squirmed against his lips, grinding your hips upwards to get more. Your boyfriend smiled proudly.
“Yes, yes, Rafe…. Shit.”
He pulled one of his hands away from you, lowering it to pump his manhood. His occasional moans caused vibrations throughout your body, your toes curling and your eyes shutting.
Rafe felt your legs shake, and he started to pull away. He needed you to cum, but not yet.
“W-what?” You asked desperately, almost whining at the loss of contact.
He gently shushed you, pushing himself up and lining his cock directly at your slits. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll finish you right here.”
He pushed himself into you inch by inch, your warm folds wrapping around him perfectly. Rafe groaned at the damp and tight feeling surrounding him, head falling back in pleasure as he settled perfectly within you.
You moaned once more, loudly this time as he started thrusting, his rhythm steady yet forceful. You repeatedly called his name, hands gripping the sheets around you as you shook in pleasure. Rafe looked down to watch himself disappear inside you, eyes filled with lust and pride every time his hips meet yours. He grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs forward, almost keeping them against your chest.
“That’s right, darling. Moan my name.” Sweat started to form on his forehead, his thrusts becoming harsher and quicker in desperate need. “C’mon, Y/n. Let me see you cum.”
“Rafe…” You cried, your cunt clenching and throbbing. The bed was creaking slowly, and you could only hope that your parents were currently deep in slumber.
The pleasure was overwhelming as Rafe focused on every part of you as much as possible. Both of you panting and covered in sweat, his hands working wonders on your clit and nipple while he perfectly filled your cunt.
“R-Rafe, I’m…”
“I know, baby. Cum with me. Come on, pretty girl.” He whispered closely in your ear, maintaining the speed of his thrusts as he rubbed your clit faster.
Your heart rate was increasing, and your body was shaking. But it was Rafe’s direct eye contact and sudden pinch on your clit that pushed you over the edge, eyes rolling at the back of your head as you released.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Rafe moaned at the sight, loving the feeling of your tight walls and warm release around his cock.
It wasn’t long until he pumped several more times before he gave in, releasing his juices inside of you with heavy breaths.
Neither of you moved for a while, still breathless and shaking.
Rafe pulled out of you slowly, making you whine. He cooed at you, pressing kisses on both of your cheeks. “Are you feeling better, baby?”
Unable to form words because you were still catching your breath, you just grinned and nodded, your hand rising to cup and stroke his cheek.
“Let’s get you ready for bed now, sweetheart.”
The rest of the night, you didn’t break any sweat. Rafe took charge of changing your clothes and sheets, even giving you a quick bath to refresh you.
On times like these, you thank the heavens for giving you a boyfriend like Rafe Cameron.
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cheesiedomino · 9 months ago
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RentABoyfriend.com ꙳ ੭ * ‧
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synopsis: you’re tired of being single so you to take an unusual route in helping with that— but what happens when you start catching real romantic feelings for your rental boyfriend?
genre: seo changbin x fem!reader | fake relationship/dating au wc: 5.1k tags/warnings: fluff, v minor angst, mild cursing, (kinda) nerdy changbin, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol usage, just overall very cute story dw <33
[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]
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“I have a date tomorrow guys.”
Everyone’s head instantly lifts up from their phones at this sudden announcement, collectively drawing their attention at you. You weren’t expecting all of them to gasp and swap such looks of genuine confusion. It’s starting to make you think maybe this situation was a lot more serious than you’ve bargained it out to be.
You couldn’t fathom it either honestly, the realization of you going out with someone probably won’t settle in until you’re physically on the date. Based on their initial responses though, you might regret everything you’re about to say, but it’s far too late to retract any of your statements now.
“No way.. with who??” Danielle is the first out of everyone to ask.
Taehyung chimes in as well, “Yeah, who’s the lucky person? They’ve gotta be something seriously special to be talking to you.”
Well, you suppose you could put it that way.
You already have a preconceived notion of what they’re going to think of this “idea”. Mentally preparing yourself to receive a flood of questions and critique from your close friends.
“Actually… I rented him. For the week.”
Now they’re all looking at you like you’ve officially lost it. The room got scarily quiet, no one wanted to be the first to speak. You should’ve anticipated on their reactions being like this, it isn’t everyday someone just openly admits to buying a partner online. Nowadays there’s a lucrative market for just about anything, when you stumbled upon an ad for this service called ‘RentABoyfriend.com’ you didn’t think much of it. You laughed the concept off at first, thinking how lonely people must be to buy someone else’s time.
But the ads kept popping up, they wouldn’t stop showing in almost every YouTube video you were watching— even one of your favorite YouTubers promoted them before! So one day you finally decided to check this website out, you wanted to see what the hype’s all about so you signed up just for shits and giggles. You weren’t expecting to actually be somewhat interested in trying this thing out, but after going through a couple different profiles and reading hundreds of positive reviews you were practically sold.
“You rented out a boyfriend..? Seriously ___? I mean, I’m not judging but you’re a gorgeous girl you can easily get a boyfriend without paying for someone’s companionship, I don’t see why you need to rent one.” Mark bluntly expressed his opinion, he was probably the most outspoken out of all of you guys.
Taehyung and Danielle both agreed in unison, it’s practically 3 against 1 at this point. You knew you should’ve waited to tell them but you weren’t anticipating on them being this judgmental about it. You were hoping for a little more support, as they’re all way more experienced than you in the dating scene and could lend some helpful advice about your first date, ever.
See, the thing is you’ve never tried dating before so you wouldn’t know the first thing about it or what to expect from your future partner. You’ve never had a boyfriend, let alone held hands or kissed someone of the opposite sex. Being in your twenties it’s kind of embarrassing to say you’ve never done those things, but you thought what better way to try it out than renting a full-on experience that can give you just that? Well minus the kissing part, but you can make it work.
You were skeptical of doing this whole ‘rent-a-boyfriend’ thing at first because you didn’t think there’d be anyone you’d find suitable enough. A big part of the reason that you’re still single is because you’re extremely picky, you want to date a guy who’s so perfect that he must’ve came straight out of an indie romance film. Your friends would tease you for having such unrealistic standards when it came to dating but you were the all-or-nothing type, you’ll be single with fifty cats before you settle for less. Renting a boyfriend is definitely an unconventional idea of easing into dating but you thought it might be worth a try anyway.
What’s the worse that could happen?
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( 1 day earlier )
Hovering your cursor over the bold red text of the website, you read over the main rules before going on to select the person you want for your date.
‘The rules are simple:
You are allowed to see only ONE person at a time, if you want to switch boyfriends you’ll have to pay a $50 fee.
MUST be over 18 to rent a boyfriend, we have implemented an age verification system before the date as we do not tolerate anyone under this age to use our services.
NO kissing, or sexual intimacy allowed. If this is found out later on by our agency we will terminate your contract and ban you from using our services in the future.
Remember to have fun !! ^_^ Our services are great for people who are new to dating or have never been in a relationship. We provide the ~ultimate~ boyfriend experience to all our clients. Customer satisfaction is 100% guaranteed ! (NO REFUNDS)’
Well jeez… they seemed a bit strict but you can deal with those rules and restrictions for the most part.
After hours of skimming through hundreds of profiles, you have a hard time choosing which you like most. Did you want an artsy, shy kind of guy? The tattooed, bad boy aesthetic type? You really couldn’t pick one until you stumble upon a particular profile that catches your eye almost immediately.
SEO CHANGBIN | 168 CM | PART-TIME LIFEGUARD | 24 | *POPULAR ↝
5 Facts About Me: I’ve traveled to over 50+ different countries and counting (ask me which my favorites are), I can speak 4 languages (working on my fifth), love to sing and used to have a rap trio with my buddies from college, I can & will easily lift you up ;) also have a secret talent for cooking, there’s nothing I can’t do!
Why Choose Me? First of all, why not choose me? I’m the best candidate for whatever kind of date you need, something casual, social gatherings, weddings, you name it! I’m very social and can make most people laugh (unless they’re the literal Grinch reincarnated), I’m able to get along well with anyone and just love to have a good time. I hope we can get to know each other and make great memories in the future :)
Going through his pictures you couldn’t believe someone was capable of being this humanely attractive. Don’t even get started on those impeccable muscles either… He really had to sport them in every other one of his photos, wearing the tightest shirts to show the outline of his insanely sculpted frame. You might have just been mesmerized from his godlike visuals alone. They even had a Valentine’s Day deluxe package that comes with seven dates in total for half the price, which they specified was for a limited time only.
$600 later you’ve got a full week of dates lined up with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in all your years of living. You should’ve definitely went shopping before considering all this because now you actually have a reason to get dolled up for someone.
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You were so nervous about going on this date you almost cancelled last minute out of fear. Typing out several different elaborate paragraphs to Changbin on why you couldn’t make it. You didn’t have his real phone number, it was all through an app facilitated by the rental company that was included in the package. Even though you were feeling overwhelmed and practically shaking with anxiety about meeting up with a guy, you still forced yourself to go anyway. You didn’t just dish out all that money just to not show up and waste his time on top of all that.
Your rental boyfriend texted you the location to meet at, it was near a train station so you both could see each other out in a public open space. The outfit you wore was fairly simple, a black mini skirt with warm tights underneath and a cropped turtleneck sweater. You accessorized the look with some dainty jewelry, a thin scarf, and knee high boots to pull everything together. It wasn’t something you usually wore but you had certain clothes you saved for a special occasion like this.
Upon your arrival, you notice him standing near a vending machine and waves over at you with the biggest smile plastered on his face. You awkwardly wave back, giving a soft smile as you slowly walk up to him. He looks even better in person, you don’t even feel adequate enough to be in such a gorgeous man’s presence. No wonder he’s so popular on the site, he’s practically unreal.
“Hi, you must be ___. It’s so nice to finally meet you, might I add you look really beautiful today, I think you’re making my heart race just by looking at you. Happy Valentine’s Day!” Changbin introduces himself, buttering you up with some sweet compliments before handing you the most insane bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.
You take the flowers and almost stumble backwards from how heavy they were, “Wow, thank you!” Changbin prevents you from falling, quickly coming up behind you to get your balance back.
“Careful honey, can’t have you injured on our first date!” He voices with concern, “I hope you love the idea I came up with, I’ve only been to this place once before but I’m sure it’s still as fun as I remember it, let’s go!” Eagerly grabbing your hand to begin the journey, he turns around again to examine your body language.
“You seem a little tense babe? Do you need a massage?” He asks in a concerned tone again, this is all really beginning to freak you out. You know this is what you signed up for but this was all starting to feel a bit too personal, all the nicknames and sweet talk he’s giving is just something you aren’t used to.
“Uh, no! It’s o-okay.” You shook your head, denying anything suspicious going on. Truth be told you were barely able to contain your composure right now.
Changbin keeps on insisting, “The massage is included in the package so you don’t have to worry about getting charged extra.”
“N-no it’s okay, really. I’m just nervous that’s all, sorry I just don’t meet up with guys…” you shyly admit, finding it hard to look him in the eye.
He nods in understanding, “No need to be nervous with me sweetheart. I’m here to make you feel as comfortable as possible.” The smile he flashes at you instantly makes you warm on the inside, he seems like a genuine, caring person. You think things might go well for you after all.
The rest of the night was full of only good vibes and laughter by the end of it all. Changbin took you to an adult arcade that had old video games like Pac-Man, Super Mario, and Space Invaders, the other side was a bar where people could sit, drink, and socialize. He bought all your drinks that night, let you use up most of his tokens and overall had the most fun you could’ve ever had with someone. He was so easygoing but also knew when to act super caring and would be all lovey dovey with you. He was gentle, nurturing, and could have conversations about anything. You loved that he’d randomly drop some interesting fact you never knew about, or talked about a certain niche topic that he’d go on multiple rants over. It didn’t feel like you were renting someone out to date you, it felt natural— like you’ve known him for longer than a couple hours. Changbin walked you home and held your hand the entire time, along with the flowers he provided a teddy bear and a heart shaped box of chocolates. If that didn’t scream boyfriend goals then you don’t know what does.
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The next day you wake up to Changbin blowing your phone up this morning. You had over 26 messages from him, which was pretty excessive in your humble opinion. The first thing he said was good morning then he goes on to express how fun yesterday was and he can’t wait to do it again. He even sent a couple mirror selfies of him at the gym, ‘conceited much?’ You thought. But then again, if you were Seo Changbin you’d probably be full of yourself too.
For today’s date you wore a pretty red sundress that made your skin glow in the sunlight. It’ll definitely get him to compliment you even more— which you secretly love when he does. Changbin calls you before he heads out to the date, letting you know how excited he is to see you again. You couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot on the train as you made your way to the destination, thinking about what he’s planned for you two next. This time you’ll be meeting up at a park but you still have no clue what you’re doing.
Changbin texts you where exactly he is in the park, it was pretty huge so it took you a while to get to him. As you get closer you see him sitting on a large blanket by the lake, on top of it were a bunch of different foods and snacks scattered all around that came out of a huge picnic basket. You were speed walking at this point trying to get to him. His arms opened out for a hug and you lean right into him, what you didn’t expect was for him to suddenly stand up and lift you in his arms to swing around you like a doll.
“Put me down I’m scared of heights!” You squeal out in fear of being too high up in the air. Maybe you really should’ve taken the bio on his profile more seriously when he mentioned certain things.
Finally putting you down after minutes go by of you protesting, Changbin sits you back onto the blanket. He brought an assortment of breads, cheese, fruits, lemonade that he made himself and a couple seltzers. You’ve never seen anyone put such time and effort into a date before, even being here with him is like living in a daydream. He was definitely succeeding in making you feel comfortable, which is something you never thought was possible with men. He actually took his time getting to know you and didn’t sound arrogant whenever he talked about himself, Changbin was so different than other guys who’ve tried hitting on you in the past. He was actually respectful, intelligent, and could easily carry a conversation without long, awkward pauses.
He was literally everything you’re looking for in a guy. But you’ll be seeing him for this week only then it’s bye bye forever. That revelation makes you a little upset, but you try pushing those thoughts in the back of your mind. It’s irrelevant and unnecessary to think about. Yet you can’t help but wonder about certain things though, wanting to know more about his job and what it’s like on a daily basis for him.
“Can I ask you something? I need you to answer it honestly.” You say out of nowhere, hoping that didn’t come out as weird as you thought.
Changbin nods, “of course, shoot.”
“How many clients do you usually get?”
This question definitely catches him off guard, he’s never really been asked this before and he’s debating on if he should as it might be a breach of privacy.
“I don’t think I can answer that, sorry.” He responds in the nicest way possible, but deep down he wants to know why you’d want to know how many other people he sees a day.
You were going to push him a bit more to try and get an answer but you decide to let it go and just enjoy the rest of the picnic. You didn’t want to bring the mood down with your odd questions and/or end up making him feel so uncomfortable that he won’t want to see you anymore. It was definitely something you shouldn’t have asked but you were curious to know anyway. Overall besides that small incident, you had another wonderful time with Changbin and couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come any faster.
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Changbin had a foolproof way of getting you to blush like a giddy high school teen whenever he texted you. He’d always refer to you as ‘pretty girl’ or ‘princess’ which gave you insane amount of butterflies. You loved how clingy he could get and would double text when you don’t reply fast enough, always needing constant attention from you which you never minded giving.
He texted you at around three in the afternoon, proposing his next plan for today’s date.
‘Let’s go out for drinks tonight, it’s all on me ;)’
You liked his message, replying that you’ll be there and put a series of hearts at the end. Speaking of hearts, yours is fluttering at high altitudes from the way you can’t stop thinking about your “boyfriend” Changbin. This has been better than anything you could’ve expected, you never want this week to come to an end. It’s only been three days but you’ve begun to grow feelings for him, they weren’t too strong just yet but they were most definitely there. You couldn’t let that halt you from having a good time tonight, you’ll have to accept it soon enough he’s not your actual boyfriend. He’s doing this because you paid him to, if it wasn’t for your money he wouldn’t be here right now.
‘This relationship is purely transactional’ you unfortunately keep reminding yourself of the reality you’re in. Psyching yourself out of this sudden somber mood that’s consuming you, distracting your pessimism by raiding your closet for some cute clothes to wear tonight’s date. After what seemed like hours of tearing your entire room apart, you decide to settle on this sparkly black mini tube dress, pairing it with a leather jacket and more platform shoes because you’re obsessed with feeling tall. Once it’s 7 PM you head out to the bar you’re seeing Changbin at, he was already waiting for you inside the place. Eyes instantly lighting up when he sees you coming towards him, just like he always does he motions for a hug, pulling you in tightly like he hasn’t seen you in years.
His hugs felt so cozy, like sitting in front of the fireplace on a crisp, snowy winter’s evening. You never wanted to escape the warmth of his arms, it was one of those forms of physical touch that felt so overly personal to you. The thought of him hugging someone the same way he hugs you slightly enrages something in your spirit but again, it isn’t your place to get genuinely upset over him doing his job. You’re not entitled to him exclusively, but you feel like if you keep this up feelings will only continue to develop. This wasn’t something you considered when going into this and now you feel like you’ve just made a huge mistake.
“You okay babe?” Changbin notices you acting a bit strange, choosing not to pursue it after telling him you’re fine. He knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to mess up the flow of the date, instead he orders a drink for the both of you and switches on to a lighter subject. “Let’s go shopping tomorrow at that new centre that just opened last week. I need to buy some new AirPods, I accidentally lost one of them in a taxi..”
“Sure,” you nod at his suggestion, in desperate need of some new clothes anyway. “Sorry about your AirPods, that sucks!”
He takes a sip of his bubbly drink that’s now on the table, “Eh, it’s okay this is probably the fourth time this has happened so far.” This has pretty much become a regular occurrence for him by now.
As the date progresses, things continue getting better. You’re both laughing, engaging in much deeper conversation than ever before. You definitely had more than enough alcohol in your system by now, feeling congested and claustrophobic as more people came into the bar. Changbin takes note of your discomfort and asks if you want to get some fresh air outside, you wasted absolutely no time to agree.
While you two were outside continuing your chat about some wild conspiracy he read about online, Changbin’s attention was soon drawn to a different building nearby. Gazing up in confusion at his sudden outburst of excitement, you wonder where he could be leading you next.
“Noraebang!” He shouts loud enough anyone miles away could’ve heard that, he’s now grabbing your hand to frantically drag you along with him.
You were never one to carry a tune but Changbin was actually very good at karaoke and singing in general, he had such a lovely voice. You could seriously listen to him sing all night— which you basically did since you kept begging for an encore until it hit 4 am. That’s when you both decided to finally call it a night, you wanted to pay for the Uber since he’s paid for all the drinks and every other expenses for today. You felt bad because you were the one renting him to be your boyfriend yet he’s constantly shelling out money left and right. He still insisted on paying and ultimately won the whole debacle, making you swallow your pride and get into the Uber with him. Changbin’s definitely not just someone you’re going to forget about after this week is over. You dread the day this all comes to an end, wishing there was a way to relive these moments again and again.
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“I’m a little under the weather today, sorry I can’t make it Binnie.” Your voice is hoarse from coughing and unbearable throat pain. You’ve already consumed half a bag of cough drops, throat lozenges, and random cold medicine you’ve found in your cabinets.
He sounds mildly disappointed, but springs back up with a new proposal, “I can come over and bring some soup if you’d like!”
You appreciate his gesture but still refuse, you know he’s only saying all this because he has to, not because he wants to. “N-no you don’t have to, I’m sure you can go see other clients today. One less person to worry about right?”
The call went silent for a minute, he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a deprecating comment.
“I don’t want to see other clients, I want to see you ___.” He sighs, unwilling to give up so easily, “I’ll be at your place soon, m’kay?” He hangs up before you could even respond or say no again.
You had no choice but to wait for Changbin to show up now. Before you got sick, the last two dates you went on were debatably the best so far. You had gone out shopping together, accidentally wearing almost the same kind of outfit. Changbin was wearing a white graphic tee with blue baggy jeans and you wore something practically identical. The two of you looked like a real, official couple and people would stare as you walked hand in hand, it really did seem like the perfect relationship on the outside.
You got even closer when he came over the following day, resulting in you two cuddling while watching movies and baking cookies. He’s expressed that he’s never been to another client’s home before but it wasn’t “technically” against any rules. The more you kept hanging out together, the harder it was coming to terms with the fact you’re actually falling for Changbin. He made every experience with you more exciting than the last, which he did exactly that night. When the cookies were done you fed a piece to him, making little airplane sounds as you do it, he eagerly takes a bite of the chewy treat and compliments both your efforts.
“These taste way better than I thought, oh my god they literally melt in your mouth. Try it!” He takes another cookie from the tray and feeds it to you this time.
There was something so overly domestic about that moment you couldn’t shake the feelings of wanting to kiss him right then and there. But you can’t. If you did such a thing you’d never be allowed to see him again, plus you don’t want to be known as that one creepy client who just couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. As you were cuddling on the couch though, things may have taken a turn for the better… or worse?
Changbin would “yawn” at the movie and subtly wrap his arm around you, he’d subconsciously pull you in closer and it didn’t make it any better that you were under the same blanket. You weren’t complaining at any of this though, you were pretty much in heaven. It took everything in you not to look up and stare, gluing your eyes to the movie that was displayed on the TV. But as the night progressed you were practically snuggling up with him like he was your real boyfriend. The way he’d run his fingers gently down your back, soothing you in a way that could lull you asleep. His touch was the most relaxing thing ever, you were so calm with him and loved how he brought a side of you that’s never been shown. After this encounter you can no longer deny the way you feel— you are officially falling deeply in love your rental boyfriend, Seo Changbin.
The sound of your doorbell ringing alarms you of a new visitor, who was none other than your “boyfriend” waiting patiently outside the door for you. You feel and look like death itself, coming downstairs to answer the door still in your PJ’s and hair a disheveled mess. Every five seconds was interrupted with you coughing your lungs out, barely able to speak above a whisper. Changbin looks thrilled as ever to see you, even when you clearly don’t look your best he’s still coming up to hug you tightly. His hugs are always blocking off your airways from the way his muscles squeeze you, it’s even worse when you’re sick— practically gasping for air.
“Sorry babyy, I just missed you so much. I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day and soon as you said you’re sick I dropped everything to go make you this soup. It’s a specialty I make whenever my friends are sick, the perfect remedy to cure my princess.” He goes into your kitchen to heat up the soup in your microwave, making you wait patiently on the couch as you’re wrapped up in multiple blankets.
Your body feels like it’s -2 degrees, you were freezing. The crazy thing is your thermostat was set to 80 degrees, it was definitely you that was the problem. He propped your feet up on the table, rested a tray in your lap and set the bowl of soup on top. Brushing a couple strands of hair out your face he looks at you intently, examining your symptoms as if he’s a doctor.
“It’ll be okay soon love, I’m here to nurse you back to health again. Can’t see my pretty baby sick like this, makes me all sad.” He pouts, giving you a soft head pat like you’re a delicate kitten.
He takes a spoonful of the hot soup, slightly blowing on it before telling you to open up so you can eat. You don’t know what’s gotten into you but you feel like he’s gone too far with all this. It’s not fair for you to continue on if it’s just become torture now. He’s practically dangling in your face that you’ll never have a partner as perfect as him in your life.
“I- I can’t do this anymore Changbin..” you say lowly, refusing to eat the soup he made.
“What do you mean? I’m just feeding you soup, it’s my duty as your boyfriend to-”
“This isn’t real… none of it is. I’m stupid for even doing this but I was lonely.. I’m sorry but I’d prefer something that isn’t temporary.” You cut him off to express your pent up frustrations, ready to be let down and rejected by him as gently as possible.
“Then let’s make it real,” he proposes without any hesitation, “honestly I stopped faking it around our third date, it was all me after that. I never said anything because well… this is my job and I’ve never fallen for a client before so this is still all very new to me..”
You’d be screaming right now if you weren’t sick, instead you’re internally freaking out at this confession, it feels like your hearts doing cartwheels and somersaults.
“Seriously?” Eyes widening as you look at him, suddenly your body heat rises and you know it’s not because of the soup or the layers of blankets that’s covering you.
He nods, “I thought it was kinda obvious when we kissed yesterday..”
Oh yeah… you forgot that did happen. You thought it was another fever dream you might’ve just made up in your head. You shared your first kiss with someone you deemed so special and important to you, someone you never would’ve guessed could come into your life and shift the entirety of your world like magic. There was no one else in existence you wanted more than Changbin.
“Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to quit your job? I don’t want to be the reason you stop making such good income.. I’ll feel so bad.” You knew deep down you didn’t feel that badly about him quitting to date you instead. It was just the thought of him leaving something he’s been doing for years behind all for some girl he’s known for simply a week.
He shrugs at your comment, “I’ll be just fine, I was planning on finding a new job soon anyway. It gets kinda old after a while, I felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. You were able to get me to open up and show my true self, I could never thank you enough for that ___.” Changbin couldn’t resist the urge to plant a kiss to your forehead.
After everything that’s been said and done. What you’ve come to understand is that love is learned, a development that takes time to grow and blossom into something extraordinary. Just like learning a new language or a musical instrument, we learn love from society and cultures we’re raised in, it’s a beautiful thing once we know how to cherish it. Your newfound romance with Changbin is something you’ll learn to cherish forever and ever.
[End <3].
933 notes · View notes
lovelyhan · 2 years ago
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— divorce child ⟢
you like to think that your most recent breakup with vernon ended on relatively good terms. there’s only one issue left to sort out: who’s getting custody of the cat you got together?
★ FEATURING; vernon x producer!reader
★ WORD COUNT; 9.2k words
★ TAGS; exes to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, smut (MINORS DNI!)
★ NOTES; 3/4 stories in the series are now up <3 i hope you like this bc i really just wanted an excuse to write something fluffy and adorable with vernon.... he's got me in my feels these past few days fr. small heads up that this fic also features a bunch of characters from again and again, the mingyu installment of the series. this story takes place a couple years after that fic, but you don't necessarily have to read that part to get the events in this one :3c
★ P.S.; this was not proofread as usual lol if you spot any mistakes, do me a favor and pretend they don't exist !
this is part of the doting on you! series.
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★ SMUT TAGS; vanilla, clothed sex, wearing ur bf's clothes kink(?), unprotected sex, body worship, praise kink, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is just so sweet okay
★ SVT TAGLIST; @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @cheolhub - @Idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jeonghancvunt - @jyiiscool - @jinniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @emmmui - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @jkbabiey - @featmia ★ SERIES TAGLIST; @exactlygreatcoffee - @gyusbabydoll - @jeonwonhi - @ti--red
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“You sure you don’t need me to pitch in for this month’s check-up? I can always wire you some cash, you know.”
As you zip the pet carrier shut, you roll your eyes despite the fact that Vernon can’t exactly see your expression. Your phone’s sitting all the way on the coffee table but you were so preoccupied with wrestling your cat, Milana into the bag that you couldn’t exactly hold it like a normal person would.
“I’m good. You already covered for me last time, remember?” You remind him before taking the call off loudspeaker before pressing your phone to your ear. “I just got her inside the carrier. Might have to patch up a few scratches before we leave though.”
Vernon laughs. “She always hates going to the vet. It’s nothing too bad, right?”
“I’ve handled worse,” you snort before grabbing a couple of band-aids you keep around various corners of the house for this scenario specifically. “How about you? I thought I remembered Jihoon mentioning that today’s gonna be shut-in day. You know, that time of the month when you guys lock yourselves inside the studio to brainstorm lyrics together. Didn’t think you’d have the time for a phone call.”
“I always have time for a phone call when Milana’s going to the vet,” he says a-matter-of-factly and you can almost picture the warm smile on his face. The thought is enough to make your chest flutter, but you push the feeling down before it can completely come to the surface. “But you are right about shut-in day though. I might have to go in a few, so if there’s anything you need, you better tell me right now or forever hold your peace.”
“Nah. I told you, we’re good,” you insist with an eyeroll before placing band-aids on the scratches that your cat affectionately left all over your arms. “I’ll drop by the company later to drop off a mix that Jihoon asked me to mess around with. But if it’s shut-in day, I doubt we’ll get to see you.”
“Hmm. I can hide his Coke Zero stash outside so he’ll be forced to go out and get it?”
“Now that’s just downright evil.”
“It is. Anyway, aren’t you going to be late?”
“I already am, but Milana’s vet adores her, remember?”
“Nari adores everyone’s pets. Mingyu-hyung told me so.”
“Shush. You talk like our baby isn’t special,” you huff as you sling the strap of the pet carrier across your shoulder. “We’ll head out now. Thanks for checking in, Vernon.”
“...Yeah. Yeah, take care on the way.”
You end the call with your heart racing inside your chest. It’s not the phone call with your ex-boyfriend that flusters you, per-se. You work in the same agency, for god’s sake. Meaning, you’d be in deep shit if talking to him throws you off just because your relationship has already come to an end. 
But whenever you jokingly refer to Milana as ‘our’ baby whenever you talk to him, it feels like you’re encroaching on something you’ve already lost a long time ago. 
Your listlessness lasts until you pull up by the parking lot. Whether Milana’s staying at yours or at Vernon’s, this pet clinic at the heart of Seoul has always been your go-to. The fact that the attending veterinarian is Mingyu’s girlfriend does wonders to your final bills—she loves giving discounts to regulars and acquaintances—and you like to think you’ve found a friend in her ever since. 
The automatic doors slide open when you walk in—Milana’s bag still slung over your shoulder. Chae, the receptionist, flashes you a bright smile before you notice the familiar golden retriever lying in front of the front desk. Old eyes flicker up to you for a moment before his tail twitches once or twice to signal his excitement. 
“Good morning, Chae. Good morning, Namja,” you coo before crouching down to pet his head. “Is Nari waiting for me? Sorry for the hold up. It was a bit tough getting this one inside her bag.” 
Chae lets out a soft laugh as she types away behind her computer. “Really? Vernon always gushes about how much of a sweetheart she is whenever it’s his turn to bring her in.”
You don’t know whether you should be surprised or embarrassed that Chae knows—or at least has an inkling—of your little arrangement with Vernon. When the two of you were still together, you always brought Milana in at the same time, but now you’re taking turns in bringing your little divorce child to the vet. 
But hey, at least you’re still upholding your parental responsibilities, right?
“Of course he does,” you scoff with a shake of your head. “He knows better than anyone that getting Lana inside the bag is a nightmare. This one’s already her third this year. I was thinking of investing in a cage-type carrier instead but Vernon said it was like we’re sending her to prison.”
Chae sighs. “Men. Always so dramatic. Oh, but Doctor Nari’s waiting for you inside.” The receptionist glances at you curiously before you start taking Milana out of the bag so Chae could measure her weight.
It’s a bit of a challenge, handing your full-grown Maine Coon over to Chae, but despite the fact that she thrashes all around before vet visits, Milana has always been tame whenever she’s at the clinic. You manage to settle inside Nari’s office once your cat’s vitals have been measured and her vet is more than happy to see a familiar face.
“Well, if it isn’t Milana and her single mother,” she chuckles. “You here for routine check-ups? Where’s the father, though?”
You roll your eyes—fully aware that she’s only teasing. “Do you ask Vernon where’s the mother when he’s the one who brings her here?”
“Maybe.” Nari smiles before getting up from her desk and receiving your big cat into her arms. “Oh. She’s gotten heavier since the last time she came in.”
“Yeah, her father has been spoiling her with too much catnip. I only found out last week,” you sigh as you settle into one of the seats adjacent to the one across Nari’s desk. “But she’s been hairballing a lot recently. She doesn’t usually groom as much as she does now. Should I be concerned?”
She hums for a moment as she puts on her stethoscope—checking Milana’s heartbeat while her free hand examines your cat’s light brown coat. “Doesn’t look like she has any fleas or mites hanging around, but I can always do a scrape for you if you want the definitive results on paper. Though the excessive grooming could also be caused by stress.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Stress?”
Nari nods before hanging her steth around her neck once more, stroking Milana’s fur with calm affection. “Cats are more easily agitated than dogs. Lots of things can stress them out. Loud music, vacuum cleaners, thunderstorms… Actually, even a switch-up in their pet parent’s schedules is grounds for stress.” 
You can only watch in silence as Nari scratches behind Milana’s ears, making your cat purr like a kitten despite the fact that her long limbs are spilling out of her vet’s arms. But regardless of how adorable she looks, Nari’s words got you thinking.
In the tail-end of the breakup, it was a topic that was brought up over and over: who gets to keep Milana? You both split half and half with expenses after the two of you adopted her at a nearby shelter. Not to mention, you both loved her in equal measure, so it was difficult to come to a decision that the two of you could soundlessly agree on. In the end, you settled with the compromise of taking turns watching over Milana because neither of you could stand not being able to see her for too long.
It’s been about three months since you and Vernon call it quits and three months since you’ve agreed on ‘splitting custody’. She stays with you on weekdays and with him on weekends—along with some exceptions for when one party isn’t available. It was also agreed that you’ll take turns bringing her to the vet every month to make sure nothing is amiss with her health.
But when you planned on paying Nari a visit today, you didn’t expect to find out that the fluctuating schedule you and Vernon made a deal out of could be a possible stressor for your cat.
“I think you should just keep her.” Nari suggests, a hint of concern creeping on her face. “You could always tell Vernon to visit Milana whenever he wants to, right? The back-and-forth travel is definitely going to take a toll on this one. Also, cats are smarter than you think. I’m sure she’s already sensed something’s off with her parents a long time ago.”
Milana heaves a deep sigh as if she understood every single word her vet just said and you can’t help the guilt that gnaws at your gut. You thought that this was the best decision you could make for both yours and Vernon’s sanity, but you completely forgot to take Milana’s well-being into account. You can almost hear Nari silently judging you, but you shake your head to rid yourself of the thought.
“We’ll… We’ll talk about it,” you reassure, swallowing the lump in your throat. “But…she’s okay, right? No serious health complications or anything?”
She rolls her eyes. “Sweetie, you’re literally the most responsible cat owner I’ve ever met. No one ever bothers to bring their pets in unless the situation’s already too severe to handle. So you’re good. Milana’s perfectly healthy. Just a little…sad, maybe.”
“Why would she be sad?”
Nari stares at you like you just asked something ridiculous, but thankfully she doesn’t dish out any half-assed remarks about it—opting to settle Milana back onto a nearby examination table to do a couple more physical exams. 
“Have I ever told you that me and Gyu used to be in a similar situation in the past?” 
You stare at Nari with a bewildered look while her gaze never strays too far from her patient. She even coos out little remarks of praise whenever Milana behaves. How can someone who’s this focused drop such a question in the middle of work? 
“Vernon told me you guys split up and got back together after almost a year,” you tell her dryly, not liking the fact that you admitted your ex-boyfriend is a big gossip, but you don’t see any point in hiding the fact that you knew. “What brought it up?” 
Nari’s lips twitch into a firm smile before she lifts her gaze to meet yours. “I just think that…you and Vernon? You’re kind of on the same boat we were in before we reconciled. It’s either the two of you are too stubborn or too afraid to see it for what it is.”
Too afraid to…? 
“What do you mean?” you ask. “It’s best that we split up, you know? Relationships between co-workers can get ugly really quickly if we forget to be professional. I don’t want us to stop doing the things we love just because of some work-related spat.” 
“Then the two of you should just learn how to segregate work from play,” Nari insists before smoothing her gloved hands across Milana’s long torso. “I’m not trying to meddle or anything, okay? It’s just that there’s virtually no reason for you to not get back together. You’re still taking care of Milana together, still checking up on each other, still working together—”
“There it is. That’s the reason why we can’t be together, Nari,” you groan at her stubbornness. “We’re still working together.” 
She huffs. “Is there a clause in your company’s contract that prohibits romantic relationships among talents and staff?” 
“I’ve never read the fine print, but I’m pretty sure there’s something along those lines somewhere in there.”
“Oh. Well, who cares? Milana needs a loving home where her parents can take care of her at the same time.” Nari then leans down to cup her face in her hands. “Isn’t that right? You need both of them to look after you, hm?”
“So you’re suggesting that Vernon and I should just get back together for Milana’s sake?” you ask half-jokingly and to your surprise, Nari nods like it’s the easiest question in the world.
“Well, I won’t make any assumptions by saying that you’re still in love with him, since you’re the only one who can say that for sure. But come on, do it for the not-so-little baby. You can just learn to love each other again in the process!” 
You can hardly believe your ears. In the quick stories that Vernon shared about Mingyu’s girlfriend, you never expected her to be this carefree about the matters of the heart. It must’ve been her six-foot boyfriend’s bubbly personality rubbing off on her. 
“Right,” you say with a shallow sigh. “Pray tell, why’d you and Mingyu split up in the first place?”
Nari’s eyes dart to the ceiling as if deep in thought as Milana nibbles playfully at one of her latex-covered fingers. The silence presses on for a few more seconds before she turns to you with a mellowed out expression.
“I thought we weren’t going to work because of how different our jobs are,” she admonishes quietly, lips spread into a thin smile. “But after being an idiot for almost six months, I realized that our jobs don’t matter. I love him. I don’t think I really stopped. Don’t think I’ll ever stop, actually.
“That’s why I was so surprised when I found out you and Vernon broke up three months ago!” Nari continues with a disgruntled look on her face. “The two of you spend so much time in the studio and at your apartment. You even have a child together!” She then gestures dramatically over to Milana. “So forgive me if it doesn’t make sense to me, why the two of you broke up. But won’t you reconsider it? For Milana?”
You shake your head. “Nari, some relationships just aren’t meant to work out. Just because you and Mingyu managed to make good on that second chance, doesn’t mean it’ll be the same with us. We’ve already…settled with what we have right now.”
“What, the endless pining and using the poor cat as an excuse to see each other?” She huffs again and, god, she reminds you so much of Mingyu now it’s actually funny. “Come on, sweetie. I’ve been in your place before, so I know perfectly well. Gosh, this must be how Seungkwan felt when I was still getting my shit together.”
Unsolicited mention of Seungkwan aside, you just don’t see any reason to pursue what Nari is convincing you to do. Nothing really changed after you and Vernon broke up. That’s one of the things you like about him—how easy it is to fall back into a comfortable friendship despite the history you shared. 
But you aren’t going to deny the fact that it kind of sucks that you can’t kiss him anymore. Can’t lean into his chair in the studio to pull him into a hug. Can’t tell him you still love him even if…
Oh. 
Oh. 
Fuck. You still love him?!
“Fine, fine. Since I have a couple more patients on the waitlist, I’m gonna let you off the hook. For now,” Nari grumbles before handing Milana back to you and taking a seat behind her desk. “Just stick to her usual vitamins and diet and she should be fine until the next visit. But if you want the stress problem to go away…”
“Nari,” you groan. “I’m not getting back together with him.”
“Hey, that is not what I was saying,” Nari rebuts with her hands up in surrender. “I was gonna suggest that you just lessen her traveling! Maine Coons are usually really active, but Milana’s a bit of a…homebody, isn’t she? Might not like all that moving around between yours and Vernon’s apartments.”
“But she’s literally with me five days a week. Won’t she have plenty of rest time then?”
“Oh, who am I kidding? Just get back together soon, pretty please?”
Yep. Mingyu’s definitely rubbed off on her.
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When you get home later in the afternoon, Milana is quick to slink off to her usual spot behind the sofa to take a nap while you make a beeline for the kitchen. 
It’s always been a post vet visit ritual to get take out to eat at home—even when you and Vernon were still together. However, you opted against the practice for now because not only does it remind you of your ex, but eating all alone in your apartment will only give you more leeway to think about the things Nari told you earlier today.
If you make your own food like you are now, your mind is at least preoccupied enough that you don’t have enough thinking room to even wonder if Vernon even wants you back. 
By the time the sun sets, Milana is still dozing behind the couch and you have a potful of pasta noodles and enough red sauce to last you five days. Another thing that you overlooked whenever you cook inside the house is that you almost always cook enough servings to feed two people. Whether subconsciously or not, you can’t bring yourself to hate how your habits are still attuned to the lifestyle you had three months ago.
Before you and Vernon broke up.
“Work,” you mutter to yourself as you dump some pasta and sauce into a bowl. “If I work, I won’t think about him anymore.”
Not-so wise words from a not-so wise person because newsflash: the time that you and your ex spent in your studio is leagues more than the time you spent together in the bedroom. Vernon has already cleared out his leftover gear from your home office, but memories aren’t something he can pack up and leave with so easily.
You recall quiet afternoons where you’d bounce ideas about their group’s next song off each other—sometimes with Jihoon and Seungcheol connected to a Discord call, but more often in the privacy of each other’s company. 
There were also gloomy days where it rained all day long. Milana would curl up on Vernon’s lap while he played around with the software on your computer—sometimes using the weird sounds she makes as samples to add into the mix along with the soft drizzle pattering against the windowpane.
But it’s even harder to just forget about all the times the two of you came together intimately within the soundproof walls. You can’t even count how many times Vernon has eaten you out while you’re perched on top of your work desk—one hand muffling your moans despite the fact that no one outside the studio can ever hope to hear you. The world is none the wiser when Vernon pulls you onto his lap, bouncing you on his length until he’s spilling into you with gratuitous release.
In the present, there you are in the ear-splitting silence of your studio—the music software your ex bought for you ages ago seemingly glaring at you for spacing out again. You know you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself since it’s easier to come up with the perfect beats when you’ve got a rough draft of the lyrics in front of you—something that Jihoon and Vernon are busy getting done today. 
But still. You can’t help the frustration because you’ve been functioning normally since the breakup. Sitting in the studio didn’t usually lead to you reminiscing about the countless hours you and Vernon spent here together. Making dinner never made you miss having someone to eat across from you at the dining table. 
If only Nari didn’t breathe a word about your ex-boyfriend and all the reasons why you should just get back together. Maybe you would’ve remained rational. Maybe you wouldn’t have started considering things that are beyond your control. 
Maybe you wouldn’t be hoping so badly for something to happen.
You try to distract yourself by listening to and reviewing the mix you’re supposed to hand over to Jihoon today. The visit you planned on making to the company was canceled since neither he nor Vernon were answering their phones, which usually means they’re taking shut-in day seriously for once.
The track continues to stream through the speakers as you munch on your dinner, filling the room with a quiet melody that would make a great ballad once the lyrics are in place. But no matter how good Jihoon’s music is, no matter how delicious your cooking can be, it isn’t enough to quell the thoughts that have been suffocating you all day.
You still…love Vernon. 
If you didn’t, your apartment wouldn’t feel as lonely as it does. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have to feel so awkward whenever you bring Milana to the vet all alone. 
But part of you insists that you’re just being carried away by the ideas that Nari planted in your head. You’ve been doing fine on your own for the past three months. How is today any different?
Your senseless overthinking gets worse before it gets better. 
The next thing you know, you’re scrolling through your gallery, unearthing pictures whose existence you’ve long forgotten about. You’ve spent almost three years with Vernon—two years officially before getting Milana on your second anniversary. Tons of photos were snapped, countless memories created. 
You could’ve snapped more photos, could’ve made more memories if only you hadn’t split up. The fact that (what should’ve been) your third anniversary passed a few weeks ago, stings more than it’s supposed to. That day, Vernon jokingly asked if you wanted to celebrate by your usual spot in the park a few neighborhoods away and you jokingly rejected his offer by saying you had a sitcom to catch up on.
Part of you wishes you accepted the invitation. Maybe the joke could’ve been subverted into something real, and maybe you could’ve been back in his arms by now.
That night, you go to bed with a mild headache and a million thoughts racing through your mind. It isn’t Jihoon’s sad, mellow mix that drones on and on in your head, but a single question that you aren’t sure if you’ll ever get a proper answer to.
How can you still love someone you were so sure that you didn’t anymore?
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Come morning, you wake up with a heart that’s heavier than last night and the glaring realization that Milana is missing.
Panicking isn’t usually your first instinct when it comes to your cat. Milana is fairly easy to spot because she’s built more massive than your regular neighborhood felines. But when you’ve already scoured the vicinity for your beloved Maine Coon, it becomes clearer and clearer that she’s nowhere to be found.
You ask around with your neighbors—fairly certain that they know what Milana looks like since she slinks out of the house every now and again. What makes this particular situation worrisome is that she hasn’t come bolting back inside your apartment when you brought out the goddamn catnip. So, when your neighbors begrudgingly tell you that, no, they haven’t seen an oversized house cat prancing around the area, you don’t know what to do.
“Wait, come again?”
“She’s missing, Nari,” you whine into your cell as you nervously bite down on your nails. “I… I was so sure that I locked everything last night, but when I woke up, the front door was wide open and Milana’s just gone.” 
Your friend curses at the other end of the line and from the concerned voices in the background, you figure that you must’ve called at a busy time in the clinic. 
“Sorry for bothering you,” you tell her while choking down a sob. “Just…give me a ring if ever you or Chae see her around the clinic.”
“It’s not a bother at all! I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” Nari sighs. “I’ll keep in touch. Oh, but it’s also worth considering that cats like familiar places. If you’re going to look for her, you can start with that.”
“Alright, thank you, Nari.”
After hanging up on her, you bury your face in the palms of your hands—sticky tears matting your skin as you breathe in sharply. You’ve never had to deal with a lost pet before. How the hell are you supposed to find Milana in a city that’s as big as Seoul?
You consider calling the police to file a report, but you’re not sure if pet cats even count for a missing person’s case. They wouldn’t be of any help if it didn’t. The only thing you can do right now is go outside and look for her yourself.
You’re quick to pull on an old sweatshirt you once nabbed from Jihoon before heading out—simultaneously texting every one of your friends about the situation as you scout further out of your neighborhood. Hell, you even contacted the animal shelter you and Vernon adopted Milana from out of sheer desperation.
Thankfully, a handful of them responded right away with a promise that they’ll keep a close eye out for any Maine Coons that surely don’t belong in their areas.
But no matter where you look, you always end up back to square one. It doesn’t help that Milana doesn’t usually wander too far from your apartment, which means that you have no clue where she could’ve possibly gone.
Nari mentioned that cats like familiar places, but the only places that are remotely familiar to Milana are yours and Vernon’s apartments. 
Yours and Vernon’s…
You quickly bolt back to your place—scrambling to your car before fumbling to get the keys into the ignition. A few failed attempts and very loud cursing later, you manage to rev the engine to life. The next thing you know, you’re pulling into the street with an urgency that’s barely beating the speed limit. 
Given that it’s still a weekend, you don’t have to come into work, which means that you have no idea what the boys’ schedule looks like right now. You’re not even sure if Vernon is in the same city, but you’d rather risk the off-chance that he isn’t in Seoul than do nothing. 
You try your best to keep an eye on the road all while dialing up your ex-boyfriend as well as doing your best to obey every Korean traffic law there is. The first call goes straight to voicemail and you would’ve crashed into an SUV that’s idling by a red light if you hadn’t angrily brought down your foot on the brakes. Why the hell isn’t he answering?!
By the time you’ve made it to the street that led to his apartment complex, you’re already shaking with anxiousness. Dozens of uncertainties flit into your mind a million miles per minute. What if he doesn’t know where she is? What if he gets mad at you for losing Milana? Hell, what if he isn’t even here? 
Shoving down all these biting questions, you park haphazardly across the street, locking your car behind you as you jog up to the steps that lead to the entrance. You don’t know how to feel about the fact that the receptionist at the counter still recognizes you—even going as far as flashing you a kind smile and informing you that Vernon is just upstairs. You wordlessly thank her for the tip before jamming a thumb on the elevator buttons. 
You tap your foot impatiently across the marble tiles. Why the hell did Vernon choose to live in a place where you have to use elevators just to get home? Your apartment’s much more accessible especially in times like this when you feel like you’re going to explode with how fucking nervous you are—
The elevator dings when it arrives at the ground floor, making your nerves jump back into focus. You’re completely ready to brush past whoever’s getting out so you can come up to your ex-boyfriend’s apartment faster, but when you meet said ex-boyfriend’s surprised gaze at the mouth of the elevator, your prior urgency comes into a screeching halt.
He’s dressed like he usually is on lazy days—ugly checkered pajama pants, a tour shirt from some Western band that he probably hasn’t listened to a day in his life, and that perpetual bedhead he always sports whenever he just rolled out of bed.  
God, he looks so good. It’s so fucking unfair.
“Hey,” he greets awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I was just about to head out and grab breakfast… Uh, make that brunch. Did you need something?”
You don’t even dare to dawdle. “Is Milana with you?”
Vernon cranes his head in confusion and the look makes your heart sink like a stone. “Last I recall, you’re the one who brought her to and from the vet yesterday. Aren’t we missing a couple of chapters here or…?”
You meant to explain the situation as concisely as you possibly can to him. Vernon’s always been an easy going guy. You’re sure that he won’t resent you for it when he finds out that you lost the daughter you’ve been sharing custody over. Even if some irrational part of your brain insists that he will. 
But instead of coherent words, all that comes out of your mouth is a choked up sob.
The curve between Vernon’s neck and shoulder is as comfortable as you recall as you press your face against the crook of it—letting the tears run from your eyes and across his pale skin. You vaguely feel him wrap a protective arm around your frame while his free hand smooths down your hair and it makes you wonder why he’s patient enough to let you cry in his arms despite not having explained what the hell even happened yet.
He’s thoughtful enough to bring you to a more secluded corner of the lobby, calming you down by rubbing soothing shapes on your back with his hand and never letting you stray too far from his embrace. It helps that his low voice is there to keep you grounded—telling you that everything’s going to be fine and you just have to breathe, love. 
It works after a few minutes and Vernon only lets you let go when he’s sure you’re not in danger of suffocating on your own tears anymore.
“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” he murmurs, taking your hand in his. A small gesture that you’re too selfish to resist. “Is it about Lana?”
You nod weakly. “She’s…gone, Vernon. I have no idea where she went, but she’s gone.”
He hums in understanding and surprisingly enough, the understanding glint in his eyes never wavers. It’s a bit off-putting since you expected him to at least be shocked by the news, but it’s almost like he’s used to hearing that your pet cat just ran away. 
“Right. I forgot to tell you about this new habit of hers.” He chuckles with an apologetic smile before one of his hands reaches up to wipe the tears off your cheeks. The close proximity has heat rising to your face, but you’re too stunned to react.
“I read somewhere that it’s good for Maine Coons to wander around to stretch out their limbs. Nari also told me last month that Lana could use the exercise, so whenever she comes over to mine, I let her out without supervision. She eventually finds her way to the lobby and just waits for me to come back if I’m ever running a little late.”
You listen to every word of Vernon’s explanation with a look of disbelief. All this time, you were worried sick about how he’ll react to the news that you lost your cat, but he’s been letting her go out and about when it’s his turn to look after her?
“Then where is she now?” you ask—not bothering to pick a fight with him now of all times.
Vernon hums for a moment as if considering the options and you don’t miss how his fingers tighten around yours when he gives you an answer.
“I might have a good idea.”
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When Vernon suggested for you to head to the park just a few minutes away from your apartment as he climbed into the passenger seat, you merely scowled at him. “Milana is afraid of all the dogs that go for walks there. The only dog she isn’t scared of is Namja.” 
“Just trust me,” he insists as you start the car. “Better we look there and find nothing than not look when there turns out to be something.”
His logic isn’t so flawed after all when he briskly leads you down a familiar walkway to an even more familiar location. It’s a small hill that’s got a perfect view of the river nearby. The upslope is lined with plum blossom trees that bloom even more vibrantly in spring and it just so happens that one of those trees is dubbed as yours and Vernon’s usual spot. 
It’s where you and him usually hang out when the air in the studio has gotten a bit too stale to bring forth any sort of output. The outdoors can offer all sorts of inspiration when it comes to writing and producing songs and it’s common practice to make the trip to the usual spot when either of you are suffering from a nasty bout of creativity block. 
And under the shade of the tree in the said usual spot is none other than Milana—curled up in deep slumber as plum blossom petals drift onto her pale brown fur. 
You don’t even feel bad for rudely disturbing her from her comfortable nap, immediately pulling her into an abrupt embrace as you feel the tears welling in your eyes again. Milana lets out a strangled meow—claws straining against your skin with a threat of attack if you don’t knock it off. But you can’t bring yourself to care. You’d gladly use up all the band-aids in the world after she scratches you up if it means you can get to hug her for a few seconds more.
“There she is. All cozy at that.”
Vernon’s smooth voice startles you out of your relief—so overwhelmed to see your cat again that you almost forgot that you had company.
“I told you she’d be here,” he laughs before reaching out to pet her head. “You got us worried though. Don’t go wandering too far, okay, Lana? You scared your mom shitless, you know?” 
Milana responds with a disgruntled noise but you can feel her claws retract nonetheless. Damn Vernon and the fact that he’s obviously the favorite parent…
She seems considerably happier when you deposit her into her father’s arms—nuzzling his chest with a satisfied purr as you and Vernon start to descend the hill. 
But as he showers her with affection, you can’t help but sneak brief glances in your ex-boyfriend’s direction. Vernon has always been easy on the eyes. That’s one of the reasons you were drawn to him in the first place. But whenever you see him like this—laughing goofily as he teases Milana, the high of his cheekbones dusted red with a shower of plum blossoms gliding all over…
The gods are cruel to think you could ever put up a fight.
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When Vernon comes over to bring Milana back to your apartment, you don’t expect him to stay for too long. He mentioned on the way that yesterday’s shut-in session was a complete success and that they’ve got all their work cut out for them. All they need is a green light from the higher-ups before Jihoon can start handing the song samples to the company’s usual team of producers—a team that just happens to include you.
So yeah, you don’t expect Vernon to linger because he’s obviously got a lot on his plate. The man hasn’t even had breakfast or brunch or whatever. So when he surprisingly decides to stay and rummages through your fridge for the pasta noodles and red sauce you’ve been saving for tonight, it’s like you never broke up with him at all.
The sight is almost too familiar for you to bear. 
Vernon sitting on the kitchen counter, helping himself to some day-old pasta as his long legs dangled over the edge. Milana watching his feet sway around with keen eyes as she attempts to swipe at them with her claws. Not to mention you, who’s staring at the two of them like they’re the most precious things in the world.
“Hey, this is really good,” Vernon compliments with half his mouth stuffed with noodles. “You’re using that one Italian tomato sauce that I like, right? Man, I missed this a lot.” 
You will yourself to snap out of whatever trance his presence has got you in before walking closer to him with a soft laugh. You lean across the counter, grabbing a fork from the drawer where you keep your silverware to help yourself to some of the pasta that he haphazardly tossed into the microwave. 
“It could’ve been better if you heated the noodles properly in boiling water.” You shake your head. “Then again, you’ve always been impatient when it comes to food.”
“Not as impatient as Seokmin-hyung,” he snickers. “One time when we were still staying back in the dorms, Mingyu-hyung just put the lasagna in the oven but Seokmin-hyung was already yelling about when it’ll be ready to eat. Actually, he always does that even if one of us just pops something in the microwave.”
You shake your head, recalling the words of Nari’s receptionist, Chae. “Men. Always so dramatic.”
Vernon snickers in agreement. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
You fall into conversation with him so easily, it’s almost unreal. When Vernon finishes his food, the two of you eventually migrate to the living room—catching up with each other in a way that you don’t really have the time to whenever he comes over to pick up Milana from your apartment in the past. 
Speaking of Milana, your cat acts as a barrier of sorts between you and Vernon, lying comfortably in the space that the two of you left unfilled. Cuddling up to him on the couch used to be so easy, it’s almost second nature, but now that you’re nothing but co-workers that are friends at best, you’ve got a lot more reservations than you used to have.
“By the way, I’ve been looking everywhere for that sweatshirt,” he muses before pointing at the graphic crewneck you’re wearing. “I thought I lost it in the laundry or that Seungkwan might’ve nabbed it when he came over to my place.” 
“Why is he your first suspect?” you snort. “Also, what are you talking about? This is Jihoon’s.”
Vernon blinks at you, a little confused. “No, that’s mine. Jihoon-hyung must’ve borrowed it from me and let you borrow it after. When did you even get it from him?”
“Um. About a month ago?”
“That explains it then.” 
You roll your eyes. “Look, if you want your sweatshirt back, I can just give it to you.”
“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” he insists, one hand drifting onto Milana’s head so he can scratch her ears. “You’ve always looked good in my clothes anyway.”
Silence fills the room almost uncomfortably at how easy it is for him to admit that. The sudden shift in the atmosphere occurs to Vernon a little late and the smile on his face falls when he realizes what he just said.
“Oh, I didn’t… I mean—”
“It’s— It’s okay,” you interject meekly, managing a shy smile as you tug on the sleeves of your—his—sweatshirt. “I always liked wearing your clothes too.”
You’re perfectly aware that you should know how to hold yourself accountable for the things you say. That goes the same for Vernon. So when the two of you willingly let the other hear such controversial things that co-workers-slash-friends probably shouldn’t be saying to each other, you’re not sure what to make of the situation. 
Are you reading him wrong? Or is he actually reciprocating your misplaced longing, no matter how subtle? It’s always been hard to tell with Vernon, who’s never straightforward with what he wants to communicate. Always trusting that you would understand the nuance of his every action, his every word, when all they do is make your head spin.
The sight is perfectly domestic—lounging comfortably on the sofa after a good meal, both of your feet kicked up on the coffee table, and your big baby daughter purring quietly from where she lies between the two of you. 
But even if three months doesn’t seem like a whole lot, it’s enough time for some…due changes to eventually set. 
“You know…” Vernon starts, sucking in a deep breath almost like he’s nervous.
“Do I know what?” 
His eyes flicker over to the ceiling as if praying for some sort of deliverance before forcing himself to meet your gaze again. There’s a look in his eyes that you can’t parse right away, and you wonder if you can ever understand what it is. 
“I… I still listen to that old mixtape you gave me. Do you remember? The one you gave to me when we first met?” he murmurs quietly, bringing his hands onto his lap so he can twiddle with his thumbs. “Before we have to come up on stage and I start feeling nervous, I just listen to a softcopy of that mixtape on my phone. I still do now.”
That mixtape… He still has that? Moreover, he managed to save a softcopy and downloaded it onto his phone? You would’ve asked him how on earth he managed to do that, if you weren’t so startled about his sudden revelation.
“Your voice always gives me strength. Even when we weren’t together yet—even if we’re not together anymore.” Vernon purses his lips, a sad look eclipsing the sincerity in his eyes as he strokes Milana’s fur thoughtfully. “So I’m really sorry if you think I’m overstaying my welcome today. I definitely am. But I just— I just wanted to be selfish for once.I wanted to spend a little more time with you because I know you’ll go back to distancing yourself from me once I leave.”
When he turns to face you, you know it’s the real deal. There’s a spark of determination in his eyes that scares you a little—like he’s about to say something you’re not ready to hear yet regardless of how badly you want to. 
But before he can get a chance to utter the words, your phone starts ringing on the coffee table. You’ve never swooped in to answer a call so quickly in your life.
“Hello, what’s up?” You nearly cringe at how bubbly your voice sounds as you get up from the couch.
“Hey, have you found Milana?” Nari’s voice flows into your ear, genuine concern lacing each word. “I asked Mingyu to look around with Namja, but no dice. I could contact some other friends if you—”
“It’s okay, Nari,” you interject, fingers drumming across your thigh. “We already found her.”
Your friend makes a curious noise. “Who’s we?” 
You nearly balk when Vernon plucks the phone out of your hands, pressing it to his ear with a smug grin that you don’t usually see him wear.
“Who else?” he says. “Thanks for checking in, Nari. But we’re kind of…busy.” 
The call isn’t even on loudspeaker but you can obviously hear the way Nari gasps like Vernon just unveiled some scandalous secret. “Oh my god. Are you—”
Vernon ends the call before tossing your phone back onto the couch, startling Milana out of her nap. Your cat flashes Vernon something similar to a dirty look before hopping off the cushions and sauntering off elsewhere. You just hope she doesn’t retaliate by wandering outside again.
But your cat’s newest penchant for wandering around is the last thing on your mind because even if you’re not facing him, you can sense Vernon’s towering presence directly behind you.
You don’t resist when he hugs you from behind—resting his forehead against your shoulder as he breathes out a shuddering sigh. His arms still feel like home despite being months into the breakup and you don’t know how to fucking deal with it.
“I still love you. Never stopped,” he whispers. “It was…completely stupid of me to think we’re better off as friends just because we’re coworkers. You’re too important to me. I don’t want to be your friend. I want to—”
You don’t even give him leeway to finish that sentence, whirling around in his embrace as you meet his lips in a quiet kiss.
In a split second, several things happen at once. Dying stars collide. Black holes collapse. Eternities unspool. 
And you start to realize that you can’t live without Vernon Chwe.
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“Shit, Hansol, please.”
Vernon loves how his other name falls so gracefully from your lips—loves how you frame the words in such an…interesting way. You only ever call him that when you’re feeling particularly strong emotions—happiness, anger, disappointment…
Pleasure.
He heaves a long sigh as he peels himself away from the home he’s made between your thighs. You’re not sure how long Vernon has been eating you out, but your brain is close to melting and you can’t process any other coherent thoughts aside from how your cunt still tingles from the orgasm he just gave you. 
Your panties have long been discarded on the bedroom floor. All you’re donned with now is the old sweatshirt that you thought belonged to Jihoon but turns out was Vernon’s property all along. He insisted that you keep it on—emphasizing just how much he likes seeing you in his clothes before promptly robbing you of your capacity to think by eating pussy like it was his life’s purpose.
It doesn’t help that he looks so fucking delectable between your legs—big hands splayed across the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he looks up at you with a dazed expression. His lips are parted, still glossy from the aftermath of your release and the look in his eyes almost makes it seem like he’s the one who’s just been eaten out to completion.
“Fuck, ‘Sol,” you whimper, head falling back onto the pillows as you shield your eyes with your arm. You can’t even look at him without feeling like you’re about to combust. “Stop staring at me like that…”
Vernon leans down to pry your arm off your face—forcing you to meet his loving gaze before pressing your arm down onto the mattress.
“Like what?” he whispers, the blunt of his nail scraping against your bottom lip. 
“Like you want to swallow me whole.”
His eyes almost crinkle with how wide he smiles at you and you nearly writhe with anticipation when you feel his drenched fingers prodding your slicked entrance again. 
“What if I tell you that’s exactly what I want?”
Vernon’s mouth is on yours before you can even breathe, tongue bullying its way past your lips as he licks into your mouth. He slips the digits he used to tease you back into your wet channel and you delight in how he swallows your moans as he pumps them inside at a languid pace. Vernon has always been good at building your release from the ground up—never one to rush any orgasms he’s willing to give. As long as you feel good, he’ll exercise as much patience as he can.
“V-Vernon,” you gasp when he curls his fingers and thumbs at your clit at the same time, flicking your sensitive bud with just the right amount of pleasure that has your toes curling with pleasure. “Fuck, please, please—”
“Sounds so good for me,” he sighs, taking your bottom lip between his teeth before giving a delicious tug. “Wanna record all your pretty noises and use it in a song. D’you want that too, love? Want everyone to hear how nice you sound?”
The idea of him using your voice in the throes of pleasure for such a mundane thing sends a rush of heat straight to your core. You moan in reply, rubbing your needy cunt against his hand in a desperate attempt to get yourself off. Vernon chuckles against your lips and his teasing almost makes you pout, if only he isn’t so fucking good at finding your g-spot.
The first time he makes you come, it’s with his mouth and the second is after he expertly picks you apart with his fingers. But no matter how well Vernon knows your body, you still think it’s fucking unfair for him to coax orgasm after orgasm from you like it’s as easy as breathing.
“Hansol,” you whisper—brain too fucked out to segreget his two names properly. “Want you inside me. Want all of you.”
He shakes his head with an audible tut, slipping his fingers out of your pulsing hole. The action makes you mewl in protest, but Vernon brings those same fingers to your lips to silence you. 
“You have to work on your patience, love,” he murmurs, angling his face a little before his lips descend onto your neck. “It’s been a while since I’ve had you like this… I want to savor you. You’ll let me do that, right?”
All you can do is answer him with a helpless nod.
His sweatshirt is off in a split second, revealing your body to him in a way that makes you want to hide underneath the covers. He gazes at you so intensely, it makes you wonder how someone you broke up with three months ago still looks at you like it's the first time.
Vernon writes poetry onto your skin with each caress of his lips, making sure you feel everything he’s doing to you as he leaves no inch of your body untouched. Sex with him has always been intense, not because he likes to fuck hard and fast but because he likes to take his time—to sink himself into your skin deep enough that you can’t ever hope to flush him out of your system. 
That’s probably one of the reasons why you just couldn’t bring yourself to stop loving him. He’s become such a fundamental part of your life that living without him is the same as breathing without oxygen. 
“Beautiful,” he murmurs as his lips latch onto your breasts. “So fucking beautiful.” 
Vernon isn’t a man of many words. You’ve come to know this for a fact, so whenever he spills all these compliments for you to hear, it makes your heart swell inside your chest. A handful of other people have called you that in the past, but when the words come from Vernon’s mouth, it feels like the gospel truth.
Fortunately, your lover was never too cruel to you. Sure, he likes to instill the value of patience, but Vernon never found the appeal of bringing your partner to tears because of their unquenchable need for release.
He doesn’t even make you beg for his cock. Vernon simply lines up the tip with your swollen entrance before slowly pushing inside—dark eyes cognizant of every shift in your expression to make sure he isn’t hurting you. When all he sees is you whimpering from how good it feels to be split open by his cock, he knows he’s doing it right.
“I love you,” he whispers breathlessly—hoping the words won’t be lost in the midst of the mind-numbing pleasure. “I’m so in love with you.”
He ploughs you into the mattress slowly, deeply, wanting you to feel every inch of his cock as he fucks into you. Vernon is rarely vocal with his words when it comes to sex, but he makes up for it with the pleasurable sounds that escape his lips. And with how long it’s been since the two of you lied together like this, you wouldn’t blame him for feeling more unhinged than usual.
“I love you, too, ‘Sol,” you sigh but the words are eclipsed with a high-pitched keen when he amps up the pace of his thrusts. 
“I love hearing you say that,” Vernon groans, biting his lip until he can taste iron on his tongue. 
“Then I’ll keep saying it.” It’s a miracle how you manage to get the words out when he’s quite literally punching the breath out of your lungs with each stroke. “I’ll say I love you while you’re fucking me. I’ll say I love you even when you’re not.”
“I’ll say it all the time if it means you’ll come back to me.”
For a moment, the intense pace he’s set falters—eyes wide and mouth agape. You worry that you must’ve said something out of turn, but Vernon proves you wrong by pulling you forward into a tight embrace, fucking up into your tight cunt with a kind of vigor that you never would’ve associated with someone as easy going as he is.
“I’m yours, love.” he rasps against your neck, teeth grazing the skin just above the thrum of your pulse. “I’ll always be yours.”
The sudden switch in positions and the sincerity of his words is what pushes you over the edge a third time—making you cling onto Vernon like a lifeline as he continues fucking you through your orgasm. You can tell that he’s close. His strokes are more erratic, more frantic. Now that he’s brought you to the pinnacle, he doesn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t make it to that same paradise too.
When he comes, it’s a burst of white hot pleasure that singes through every single nerve ending in Vernon’s brain. You let out such an adorable little whimper as his cum coats your insides in generous spurts, filling you to the brim with his emission with the full intention of keeping it inside you for days.
But as much as he loves entertaining the idea of defiling you until everyone in the world knows you belong to him… 
He’s always put great importance in the art of aftercare.
Both of you try very hard to ignore Milana’s judgemental stare as Vernon carries you to the bathroom—propping you up on the toilet cover first as he draws a warm bath. But from the way she dismissively leaves the two of you to your own devices after a few minutes, you like to think that you’ve gotten her seal of approval.
Your no-longer-ex-boyfriend gently lays you into the tub with him, reaching out for the soap on one of your toiletry holders as he massages you everywhere you’re sore. You let out a satisfied sigh before resting the back of your head against his firm shoulder.
“How’re you going to explain to the higher-ups that you’re dating one of their producers again?” you chuckle, placing your hand on top of his as he continues to clean you up. “Maybe I should just find a job somewhere else. A place where it isn’t illegal to have an idol as a boyfriend.”
“Maybe,” he muses before placing a firm kiss on your temple. “But whatever happens, I know I’ll always stick by you no matter what.”
You turn around, arching an eyebrow at him. “Even if it’ll cost you your job?” 
You completely expect him to backtrack a little. Vernon is obsessed with you—you get that. But probably not to a point where he’s willing to breach the company’s contract just to keep being with you, right? 
But for some reason, it sounds so fucking easy for him to say it when he whispers:
“Even if it’ll cost me my job.”
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��� end notes: this is probably the sweetest thing i've ever written bc i personally headcanon vernon as someone who loves his s/o so deeply, it consumes him (like in a good way yk). i had so much fun writing this (esp since i got to sneak in vet!reader from again and again under the name nari hehe) so i rly hope you enjoyed it! do look forward to the last part of this series, which will feature resident catboy jeon wonwoo <3
this is part of the doting on you! series.
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amirasainz · 3 months ago
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Hi literally get so excited when you update! Can you write one where charles x alexandra x reader where charles and alex are away for an event and forget that it's the reader birthday ans only remember when someone tells them birthday it and they try and make it up to her.
Hi loves. I hope you enjoy this little piece. Let me know what you think. Comments are always apreciated!I'm sorry,but the Sydney Sweeny picture was perfect, so I had to include it😉
Also, question (and please answer me that in the comments), does anyone read what I write before the story? Like the little message here? I'm just curious❤️
Enjoy reading and send me requests!!❤️
-XoXo
The Birthday disaster
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You couldn’t believe it. They weren’t here. They didn’t call, text, or even send you a freaking letter. Your own boyfriend and girlfriend forgot your birthday. And not just any birthday, it was your 21 birthday. Instead of celebrating with Alex, Charles, and all of your friends in a vibrant club, you were sitting on the balcony of your apartment. Despite the cold wind hitting your bare skin mercilessly, thanks to the cute short dress you wore today, you couldn’t bring yourself to walk back inside.
Of course, your friends tried to get you to come out with them to celebrate your birthday properly. But it just hurt too much, and to be honest, your mind was too tired and sad for any kind of festivity.
When Charles and Alex first informed you about the event hosted by one of Alex’s friends, they eagerly asked you to join them. Unfortunately, your job didn’t allow you to tag along, which both of them understood. However, they promised you that they would return today at around 5 o’clock. To be honest, you thought they had something special planned for your birthday. But last night, at around 11 pm, you received a text from Alex, informing you that they would be staying longer in Venice, where the event was held.
At first, you thought this was some kind of joke. Maybe they wanted you to think that they weren’t able to celebrate with you, only to surprise you with a birthday party. But sadly, when you woke up this morning, nothing happened. Throughout the day, there was complete silence between you and them.
Your group of friends, who had been with you a few hours ago to at least celebrate your birthday a little bit, tried to convince you to go out and party with them. Before you could agree, you got a notification from Instagram. You were tagged quite often in a post showing Alex and Charles at the event. They looked so happy and carefree, making you feel even more numb.
Despite their best efforts, your friends left after half an hour, after you reassured them with phrases like “Yes, I will take care of myself,” “Yes, I will call you if I need anything,” and “No, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m completely fine.” They knew you were anything but fine; however, they also knew that you needed to be alone right now.
So here you are, sitting alone in the cold with your only companions being the vodka bottle you brought with you and the relentless wind hitting your skin. “Happy fucking 21st birthday to me, I guess,” you muttered to yourself, staring out at the sea.
“Oh my god, Lisa. You truly outdid yourself,” complimented Alex, her friend. And it was true. The event was filled with beautiful flowers and lights, giving the room a fairy-like appearance. The soft glow of the lights reflected off the petals, creating a magical ambiance that made everyone feel like they had stepped into an enchanted garden. Charles, who stood next to his girlfriend, only brought her closer to him and said, “Yeah, I have to agree. I’m 100% sure YN would have loved it.” “You are so right, love. I wish she was here with us,” agreed Alex, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.
“Wait, I’m confused. So there is nothing wrong between you guys and YN?” asked Lisa, her brow furrowed in confusion. Alex and Charles shared a look with each other, both of them equally puzzled. “No, why would there be anything wrong with us?” Alex replied, her tone defensive. “Oh, I just thought you had a fight and this is the reason why you are here and not with YN today. But I must have been wrong…” Linda’s voice trailed off, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She shared a look with her partner Mary, both of them realizing the gravity of the situation.
“Wait, stop. Pause. Why would we be with YN tonight? You invited us to your event and we are here. I don’t get what’s going on right now,” said Alex, her frustration mounting. It felt like Mary and Lisa knew something she and Charles didn’t. Mary, who was now also becoming more annoyed with how the two of them acted before them, didn’t take any nonsense from Alex.
Without hesitation, she looked straight into Alex’s eyes and told her with an ice-cold voice, “Well, we weren’t expecting you to show up today because we thought that you would be busy celebrating YN’s 21 birthday today. But from the looks of it, it seems like you forgot your own girlfriend’s birthday. So don’t talk to us with that rude tone of yours. At least we remember each other’s birthdays.” With that, Mary took Lisa by the hand and left, leaving Alex and Charles standing there in stunned silence.
Alex and Charles were left behind, both staring at the space where the couple used to be a few seconds ago. Both of them felt a wave of guilt and shame wash over them. How could they forget their own girlfriend’s birthday? Turning on their phones, they saw the flood of messages they had received from not only their fans but also their friends, YN’s friends, and their families. Each message was a painful reminder of their oversight.
“We messed up so badly,” muttered Charles, looking at Alex with a pained expression. The woman could only nod, still speechless. Charles took her arm and gently but firmly led her out of the room. “We have to go to her. ASAP,” Alex told Charles, who was already a step ahead of her and had their jackets in hand. With that, the couple left the event, both feeling a deep sense of remorse. How could they forget their girl’s birthday?
As they hurried to their car, Alex’s mind raced with thoughts of how to make it up to YN. She knew it would take more than just an apology to mend the hurt they had caused. Charles, too, was lost in his thoughts, thinking of ways to show YN how much she meant to them. They both knew that they had a lot of making up to do, but they were determined to do whatever it took to make things right.
At around 1 am, the couple finally arrived home. The ride back had been silent, the air in the car feeling oppressively thick, making it hard to breathe. They parked their car in the garage and, without hesitation, jumped out of the vehicle, racing towards the elevator. The few minutes it took to reach their front door felt like an eternity, each second stretching painfully.
When they entered the apartment, everything was shrouded in darkness. A figure sat on the balcony, barely visible in the dim light. Charles immediately sat next to YN, while Alex kneeled in front of her. YN didn’t even look at them before taking a gulp from the nearly empty bottle of vodka. “Hey love, I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” whispered Charles, gently trying to take the bottle away from the now 21-year-old girl.
YN shook her head, her voice trembling as she reminded them, “No. NO, you do not get to tell me what I can and cannot do. Not after you forgot about me.” “Baby, we didn’t forget about you,” Alex tried, her eyes already filling with tears. YN only laughed, her own tears streaming down her face. “No, Alexandra. You do not get to tell me that after you forgot my birthday, and you certainly don’t get to cry.” “Ok, let’s all calm down,” Charles attempted again, his voice soothing but firm.
“No Charles! I don’t want to calm down. You both forgot about me. You two promised me that something like this would never happen to us. You promised me that you would always love me. You promised me that the age gap didn’t bother you when we started dating when I was 19. But look at us. You already broke one of your promises. How can I be sure that you won’t break another one?” With that, YN broke down in tears. Her whole body shook with the force of her sobs, her head held in her hands.
Charles and Alex immediately moved to comfort her. “YN, breath. We are so freaking sorry. I guarantee you, we didn’t mean for something like this to happen. We were all so busy with our jobs and social lives that we didn’t mean to forget something so important,” Charles began, his voice filled with regret.
Alex took YN’s head into her hands, gently wiping away her tears. “We love you more than anything in this world. You are our air and our heart. And we will apologize for the rest of our lives if we have to,” she said, her voice breaking with emotion. YN only whispered, “I love you guys too.” Alex didn't hesitate before kissing her girlfriend. after a moment the they pulled apart.
Charles turned her face towards him, speaking softly, “And we didn’t lie when we told you the age gap didn’t bother us. And we certainly didn’t lie when we promised you that we would always love you, ok?” After YN nodded, Letting Charles also kiss her. This kiss was filled with as much love as Alex, just a bit more urgently but still gentle. After their kiss, the three of them cuddled close to each other, finding solace in their shared warmth.
It would take some time before everything was alright between the three of them again. But for now, sitting together and watching the city lights flicker in the distance was the perfect way to start healing.
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deliciousangelfestival · 4 months ago
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Another Ending - 2 | Bucky Barnes
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Character: ex!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: It was supposed to be a short week watching over your niece, who loves romance books. She thought you were just a normal aunt, but it turns out you have secrets.
Tags: Spies, action, threat, offense, fight scene, violence, romance, comedy.
Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 ,-
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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The car ride was tense, with only the sound of tires humming against the asphalt breaking the silence. You stared out the window, watching the trees blur by, trying to suppress the anxiety gnawing at you.
“We need to get to the train station,” you suggested, breaking the silence.
Bucky’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Too risky. We have to stay low for a while.”
You nodded, your mind racing through the possibilities. If a motel or hotel was too dangerous, where could you go? “We should camp. I have the gear in the car.”
Bucky glanced at you, a small nod of approval. “Good.”
The awkward silence returned, thick and suffocating, until a small voice broke through.
“This is destiny,” Lori murmured, her face lighting up as she reached into her bag to pull out a notebook. She began scribbling furiously.
You and Bucky exchanged a confused look. “What’s got you writing all of a sudden?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“New ideas for my fanfiction,” Lori said, her tone excited.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Lori…”
Bucky kept driving, his eyes scanning the road ahead until he found a secluded area surrounded by trees. He maneuvered the car off the road, hiding it as best he could among the foliage.
“Who is she, really?” Bucky asked, his tone serious.
“My niece,” you replied, your voice low.
Lori, sensing the conversation was about her, raised her hand like she was in class. “Oh, I have a confession to make. I’m the one who replied to your email.”
Bucky’s eyes widened as he turned to you, his expression a mix of disbelief and something else. “Can’t say I’m not a little disappointed. But thanks to her, I finally know your real name.”
Lori, completely missing the tension in the air, beamed. “You didn’t even know each other’s names, but you kept looking for her? That’s so romantic.”
Bucky shot you a look, his expression unreadable, but the way his gaze lingered made you uncomfortable. Was she really your niece? He couldn’t help but wonder.
You shook your head, grabbing your bag and pulling out a burner phone. You needed to call your sister and let her know you were taking Lori with you, that things had gotten… complicated.
Lori, oblivious to the serious undertone of the situation, watched you and Bucky closely, analyzing every glance and gesture. Through her writer’s lens, she saw the tension between you two as something else entirely. She grinned, her mind already spinning a new story of enemies-turned-lovers.
“Uh, I have a question,” Lori piped up. “After I replied, did you immediately read it?”
Bucky didn’t answer, his silence louder than any words could be. Lori took it as confirmation. “So, before you replied, you rushed to find my cool aunt, and when you got closer, you finally sent it. That’s such dedication to chasing love.” She squealed, hugging her notebook to her chest like a love-struck fangirl.
🥀🥀🥀🥀
Both of you walked in silence, the tension between you growing thicker with every step. You stayed close to the car, unwilling to stray too far, as if the vehicle was the only thing grounding you in this increasingly chaotic world.
“We can’t be together,” you finally said, your voice heavy with regret.
“But—” Bucky began, but you cut him off.
Without a word, you reached up and tugged down your collar, revealing a line of jagged scars etched into the skin of your neck. You usually kept them hidden under layers of makeup, but today, there was no time for that. The collar had been your only shield.
“These… they still haunt me,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.
Bucky’s eyes softened, and without hesitation, he pulled up his shirt to reveal the scars marring his shoulder. The sight of them made your heart twist with guilt.
“It’s not just you,” he said, his voice low and filled with a shared pain. He stepped closer, the distance between you shrinking as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “We were both in the wrong.”
In the world of espionage, trust was a luxury neither of you could afford. You had been a double agent, living in the gray area between loyalty and betrayal. Bucky, a triple agent, had danced even closer to the edge. The scars you both bore were reminders of the countless times trust had been shattered.
The real reason you were being hunted wasn’t just because you were a skilled operative; it was because you had broken a vow. You had promised never to contact Bucky again, a promise made under the threat of being burned by your agency. But you had broken that promise, and now, you were paying the price.
“Bucky…” you whispered, your voice filled with an ache you couldn’t suppress. But your words died in your throat as you caught sight of movement behind a tree.
Lori. Your creative, ever-curious niece was hiding, scribbling furiously in her notebook as if she was documenting your every word.
“So, both of them feel guilty. It haunts them,” Lori muttered to herself, her eyes wide with fascination as she jotted down her thoughts.
You sighed deeply, the weight of everything crashing down on you. You marched over to Lori, grabbing her bag with a grunt. “Why is this so heavy?” you demanded, feeling the strain in your arm. Then it hit you. “Didn’t I tell you not to bring your books?”
Lori snatched her bag back, clutching it to her chest protectively. “No! I can’t live without them. This one is my favorite.”
You sighed again, rubbing your temples as if it would somehow alleviate the stress of the situation. Arguing with Lori was pointless; she was as stubborn as you were. You glanced over at Bucky, who had been watching the exchange with an amused yet concerned look.
“We should set up camp here,” you said, your voice resigned but firm.
Bucky nodded, but the way his eyes lingered on you told you that he wasn’t just agreeing to the plan; he was agreeing to this unspoken understanding that, despite everything, you were in this together, whether you liked it or not.
As you began to unpack the gear, the reality of your situation weighed heavily on you. The scars, the guilt, the constant running—it was all too much. But here you were, setting up camp in the middle of nowhere with a man who was both your greatest ally and your deepest regret, and a niece who seemed determined to make you believe again in romance.
And all you could think about was how much it hurt, how much it haunted you, and how much you wished things could be different. But in the world you lived in, wishes were just as dangerous as promises.
🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
After setting up the camp, you busied yourself with preparing dinner. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a dusky twilight that painted the sky in shades of purple and orange.
The scent of the forest mingled with the aroma of the food, creating a comforting atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the tension from earlier.
Bucky sat by the lake, his figure a dark silhouette against the shimmering water. He occasionally stole glances in your direction, watching as you moved with practiced efficiency. The sight of you, so capable and yet so burdened, stirred something in him that he couldn’t quite name.
A soft voice broke the stillness. “🎵I’m just a talking plant, don’t mind me,🎵” Lori sang in a playful, lilting tone as she twirled her way over to Bucky. She stopped beside him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Do you like my aunt?” she asked, her tone innocent yet oddly probing.
Bucky blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the question. What’s wrong with this kid? He raised an eyebrow, trying to mask his surprise.
Lori, undeterred by his silence, continued with a knowing smile. “I get it. You’re a man of few words. You’re exactly like the male character from this book.”
She held up the novel she’d been carrying, the title "The Red Swan" emblazoned on the cover. Bucky tilted his head, the title vaguely familiar but not enough to place it.
“Are you really her niece?” Bucky asked, his curiosity piqued by Lori’s strange mix of wisdom and childlike wonder.
Lori shrugged a carefree gesture that spoke volumes. “My dad is a theater teacher.”
Bucky nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. That explained a lot—her flair for the dramatic, her perceptiveness, her relentless curiosity.
“Here,” Lori said, thrusting the romance novel into his hands.
“Why?” Bucky asked, looking down at the book with a mix of skepticism and curiosity.
Lori sighed as if explaining something painfully obvious. “It’s as clear as the sky is blue that you like my aunt. But you never express it. If your actions alone aren’t enough, you need to use your words. From the start, you’ve only said thirty-one words. None of us can read each other’s minds.”
Bucky found himself unexpectedly impressed. This kid had been counting his words? And, annoyingly enough, she was right. He glanced at Lori, who gave him a confident salute, her eyes twinkling with a mix of innocence and cunning.
“Trust me,” she said with a playful wink before scampering back over to you, her small figure darting between the trees with the energy of a whirlwind.
Bucky watched her go, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. There was something endearing about Lori’s antics, the way she seemed to bring a different side out of you, a side he hadn’t seen before. A side he realized he wanted to know more about.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and looked down at the book Lori had handed him. Romance novels had never been his thing, but something about the way she insisted piqued his interest.
He flipped to the summary on the back cover, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise at the plot. It was more intricate than he’d expected, with themes of loyalty, betrayal, and forbidden love woven through the narrative.
Intrigued despite himself, Bucky began reading, his fingers brushing the pages as he turned them. As he read, his breath hitched slightly. The story was compelling, drawing him in with its depth and emotion. “This is… interesting,” he murmured to himself, unable to deny the pull of the story.
🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀
The next morning, the three of you made your way to the train station. It was too risky to fly; the airport would be crawling with potential threats. You handled the ticket counter, purchasing a ticket for Lori while she waited with Bucky a short distance away. She noticed the way he kept his eyes on you, his gaze lingering as if trying to memorize every detail.
Unable to stand the silence any longer, Lori leaned over and pinched his thigh. “You should talk to her,” she whispered, her tone insistent.
Just then, you returned, holding the tickets in your hand. “Alright, I got it,” you said, glancing at Bucky. “I guess this is goodbye. Thanks for helping us.” Your voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something unsaid, a tension that hung in the air.
Bucky hesitated, his thoughts warring within him. Then, out of nowhere, he felt a sharp kick to his shin. Lori again, urging him forward. “Say something before you lose this chance!” she hissed.
“Seven years,” Bucky finally said, his voice rough with emotion.
“What?” You turned to him, confused by his sudden declaration.
“I’ve been looking for you and waiting for seven years,” he continued, his eyes locking onto yours.
The words hit you like a tidal wave, stirring up emotions you’d buried deep. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart pounded in your chest. Seven years. The weight of those words hung between you, thickening the air. Lori squealed beside you, her excitement palpable, but you could barely hear her over the rush of blood in your ears.
Bucky took a step closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper. “I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped searching. Every lead, every dead end—it all brought me back to you.”
Before you could respond, a sudden prickle of awareness swept over you. You didn’t have to look around to know—you were being watched. Instinct kicked in, and you grabbed Lori’s hand. “We have to go,” you said urgently, pulling her along.
“But Aunt, he’s not done!” Lori protested, glancing back at Bucky as you hurried away.
Bucky was right behind you, not willing to let you slip away again. “We can’t stay together, Bucky!” you insisted, your voice edged with both desperation and regret.
“You’re going to Massachusetts,” he replied, undeterred. “I want to go there too.”
“Why?” you demanded, your eyes narrowing.
Bucky held up the book that Lori had given him. “Because of this.” He pointed to the title on the cover, his expression serious.
“The Red Swan.” The words rolled off your tongue with a sense of familiarity that sent a shiver down your spine. The title dredged up old memories, ones you’d tried hard to forget.
Bucky saw the recognition in your eyes and pressed on. “From what I’ve read—”
“You read it?” Lori interrupted, her voice tinged with awe.
“From what I’ve read,” Bucky continued, his gaze never leaving yours, “the mission in this book mirrors the one we had. The same code names, the same hotel rooms…”
Lori gasped, her eyes wide with amazement. “Oh wow!”
“You don’t mean—” you started, your mind racing to catch up.
Bucky nodded grimly. “I need to see the author of this novel. What’s his deal? How does a romance author know so much about a mission we both lived through? The details are too precise to be coincidence.”
Your heart pounded harder, and you exchanged a glance with Bucky. The implications were chilling. Someone out there knew far too much about your past—a past that was supposed to be buried. And now, that knowledge was in the pages of a book for anyone to read.
"Let's go," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. But then you hesitated, realizing, "Oh, but I didn’t buy your ticket."
Bucky chuckled softly, a rare sound that almost made you smile. "I’ll handle it," he replied, his confidence soothing your worry.
The three of you boarded the train, slipping into a quiet compartment. Lori, practically bouncing with excitement, clasped her hands together. She was thrilled that you and Bucky weren’t parting ways.
Unable to contain her joy, she started singing softly, “🎵We’re all in this together…🎵”
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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 12 days ago
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You're a Dead Man (Part 2) | JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader
Summary: After JJ has a run in with his father, he begins to spiral and doubt his abilities to be a father, leaving you wondering if you're going to be a single mom.
A/N: A couple people requested part 2 and a great anon gave me this idea! Hope you like it. Link for part 1 is down below, but this could probably be read as a stand alone too!
|||| Part 1 ||||
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“What do you know about being a dad? You’re gonna fuck that kid up just like I fucked you up.”
JJ replays the conversation with is dad over and over in his head. The anxiety growing even more intense. His hand shakes as he presses it into his heart.
He didn’t know anything about being a dad. His dad was right with that one. JJ had the bad genes; Alcoholics, drug addicts. The reoccurring jail time. The dead beat dads. It all ran in his family. A never ending vicious cycle that he was going to be continuing.
You recently had your scan, finding out you and JJ would be welcoming a baby boy into the world 20 weeks from now. A mini JJ. After needing to get back to work, both you and JJ split ways and headed back to work.
He was working on a boat motor in the local shop when his boss came to him, “Maybank, you got a visitor.” He threw his thumb over his shoulder.
JJ glanced up, expecting you or one of the pogues but didn’t expect to see his dad there, taking a drag of his cigarette, a subtle sway in his posture.
JJ mentally cursed, not wanting to deal with this.
“Take it out back. I can’t have customers walking up on his bullshit today.” His boss instructs, knowing Luke enough.
JJ wipes his greasy hands on his rag and jumps down from the ladder of the boat, heading toward his dad. “What the hell do you want?” He motions over to the right with his head, walking toward the side of the shop, Luke following with a stumble.
“Jesus Christ.” JJ mutters, smelling the alcohol on his breath.
“Heard you’re gonna be a dad.” Luke says with a slur.
JJ places his hands on his hips and nods, replying with a nonchalant, “yup.”
Luke sniffs, wiping his hand against his nose, “What do you know about being a dad? You’re gonna fuck that kid up just like I fucked you up.”
JJ couldn't believe his ears, “Did you seriously come all the way down here just to say this? I got work to do.” JJ begins to walk away but Luke roughly grabs him by the arm, “I’m not done talking to you, boy! Don’t you walk away from me.”
“You know it’s true. Do the kid a favor and stay away from him. We don’t need another fucked up Maybank in the world. Look at you, working at the local boat shop. You’ll never make it at anything else. You’ll never be able to give the kid a good life. Face it," Luke takes a step toward JJ, pointing an accusing finger in his face, "you’ll end up just like me, drunk trying to make it by in life wondering where it all went to shit.”
JJ rips his arm from Luke’s tight grasp, a red mark left behind, “you have no idea of what kind of dad I’ll be. As far as I’m concerned I know exactly what kind of dad not to be.” He starts to walk away, Luke continuing to slur and insult him.
“JJ you’re going to be a shit of a father! Don't say I didn't warn you. You'll be a sorry son of a bitch bringing a kid into this world!"
~
JJ's thoughts were running rampant. His mind slowly convincing itself his dad was right. He would never be a good father. He didn't know how to be a father. You and the baby deserved better than what he could offer you.
The old rock music thumping in his ears as he opened the wooden door. It smelled like cigarette smoke. The place started to get full as everyone begins to get off work.
"What can I get you?" The barkeep asks, cleaning the bar top in front of him.
JJ has his chance to back out of this. He glances down at his watch, you'd probably just be getting off of work and heading home. You told him at the doctor's appointment you would fix his favorite tonight. It was you and JJ's turn to fix dinner for the Pogues.
He knew he needed to leave and go home but his mind pushed his legs forward, taking a seat at the bar. He knew addiction ran in his family and this was bound to happen to him. His dad was right. Might as well speed things along.
"Whisky."
~
As you came close to finishing dinner, you glanced at your phone again, nothing from JJ. He should have been home by now. You'd called and texted but no response, you began to worry.
"Hey sis," John B greeted coming through the front door, Sarah following behind.
"How did your appointment go?" Sarah asks with a smile, pushing past John B to greet you. She was just as excited as you to find out the gender. Sarah had a bet with Kie - it was gonna be a girl. She just knew it and even placed a bet on it. She immediately frowns at your worried appearance, "What's wrong?"
"JJ should be home by now and I can't get in touch with him."
"Maybe he got stuck working late? I know he said he had to finish building that motor and wanted to get it done today." John B shrugs it off, popping one of the veggie pieces in his mouth, "I wouldn't worry too much about it."
"Yeah but," you shake your head, "He usually would at least send me a text to let me know. He knew I was cooking his favorite tonight and he said he wouldn't miss it. Somethings wrong, I can feel it." You place a hand on your growing bump, a sense of uneasiness flooding over you.
"Have you tried calling him?" Sarah asks, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed, "Like John B said maybe he's busy."
"I've called and texted." You look between your brother and Sarah, "Something's wrong, John B."
He sighs with a nod. He didn't need to hear anything else from you, he can see it was truly bothering you. "I'll find him."
"Thank you." You say softly.
He nods and kisses your head, "Anything for you."
~
JJ couldn't remember which drink he was on. 8? maybe 9? He was slurring his words, swaying. He'd become the center of attention at the bar, talking with a few people, laughing it up. He could feel his phone buzz and checked it, blinking his eyes to try and focus. The thinks it says John B but he can't be for sure.
One of the guys he'd been talking to slapped him on the shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts, he slid the phone back in his pocket.
"Another drink," JJ slaps the bar top.
"You sure? I think you've had enough," The bartender states.
"Oh come on, man, give him what he wants!" One of the guys says, "The fun is just getting started."
JJ saw the little baggie and the guys crazy eyes. JJ raised his eyebrows, "I don't know man." Even in his drunken state, you flash across his mind.
The guy places a hand on JJ's shoulder, "Live a little. You deserve it." And so JJ follows the guy and a few buddies out back.
~
John B went by his work to find the shop closed and moved on to a couple places to check. It was the 4th place, Blackbeards Bar, that he finally had someone say they saw JJ, but when he went to check out behind the bar, JJ and those guys were no where to be found. John B filled with dread.
He drove the Twinkie through town, looking left and right for any sign of JJ but didn't see him. He reluctantly returned back to the chateau where you and Sarah sat around the table. He dreaded having to return without JJ and explain where he was last seen. The bar was known to be occupied by the drunks and druggies. Luke was a frequent customer.
He could tell you'd been crying. You stood when he opened the door, "Did you find him?"
John B shook his head and saw your hopes get crushed, your body physically showing the signs. Your shoulders dropped, "he has to be out there somewhere, John B. Maybe you didn't look hard enough-" You snatched your keys off the table, storming past him, but he steps in front of you, "I looked everywhere. Y/n he was last seen at Blackbeards."
"he wouldn't-" you shook your head, "It had to be a mistake."
"He was seen with Luke's crowd, y/n."
And your world came crushing down.
~
JJ didn't know how he'd done it and made it all the way to the chateau but he did. He stumbled up the front stairs. The lights, indoor and out were on. He hoped he hadn't missed dinner. You'd cooked his favorite and he was starving. He belched as he kicked his shoes off, stumbling into the nearby shelf, something came crashing down. He giggled to himself, "Oh fuck."
The door swung open, there you stood in your gown and robe. He closed one eye, squinting to focus in on you and gives you a drunk grin, "there's my baby."
He's taken aback as you lunge at him, hands hitting his chest. it sends him flying back into the porch post. You probably could have just done it with your finger and knocked him over at how drunk and high he was.
"What the fuck?!" He manages to catch himself, "What the fuck was that for?!"
"You stupid son of a bitch! Do you know how worried I've been? It's 4 o clock in the morning! I was about to call the police!"
John B and the other Pogues stood at the door, watching this scene unfold. They committed to staying up with you, hoping to keep you company and keep you calm. You were only a few minutes from having another breakdown.
"Oh shit," JJ laughs, "It's 4 am? Time flies when you're having fun then." He straightens himself up, but stays with his back pressed against the post to keep himself from swaying. It didn't stop the room from spinning.
You didn't know whether to cry or scream. You were beyond angry; heartbroken that JJ had put you through something like this. Pregnancy hormones only made it worse. It was only in the light, you could see the white powder on his nostrils.
"Is that coke?" You ask in disbelief, pointing to his nose.
He quickly wipes it away with his sleeve, "no-"
You cry out, absolutely frustrated, "JJ, what the fuck is wrong with you! This isn't you. You're out late, drinking and now doing drugs with some of your dad's buddies? We're going to have a baby in 4 months. You can't do shit like this. You can't spiral. You have responsibilities!"
JJ could feel his anger boiling, threatening to blow. His entire body going hot, his face growing red, as he points an accusing finger in your face, "You don't get to tell me what to do."
You'd seen JJ get angry before, but had never had it directed at you. You couldn't believe you were about to say this, but he looked like Luke staring back. You could feel John B's presence beside you, ready to defend his sister. He didn't like the crazy look in JJ's eyes or how he threatened you.
You straighten your back, showing JJ you weren't afraid of him. You were pissed he'd done something like this, but when you thought more about it, there had to have been something that set JJ off. He was so happy at the appointment. Nervous, but excited to find out he was having a boy. He even made the comment, "My son will never feel the way I did."
From the time you departed to back to work, something had changed and the only thing that could have set JJ off would be his dad. You knew his anger wasn't meant for you.
JJ surrenders, "Go ahead, yell at me. Tell me how horrible of a dad I'm gonna be. How I'm gonna fuck that kid up just like I'm fucked up." He holds his arms out at his side, "The kid doesn't need me. If anything he's better off without me. You're better off without me." His eyes fill with tears, "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve a happy ending." JJ is defeated and emotional.
Your heart aches at the fact JJ would ever think that way about himself. He'd already proven to be a better dad than Luke would ever be and your son wasn't even in this world yet. "Is that what Luke told you? That you're going to be a horrible dad?"
JJ wouldn't meet your eyes. You step forward, hands cupping his jawline, willing him to look at you, "JJ Maybank, you've already proven you will be an amazing dad and our baby isn't even earth side yet. Me and him both will never be better without you because you complete us, you make this family whole." Tears fill in your eyes, seeing his doing the same, "You never felt a father's love and that has been your encouragement from the beginning. You know exactly how to be a father because you have first hand of what not to do. You've stepped up and become more than a father than your own will ever be."
JJ relinquishes into you, sobs racked his body as he held onto you as if you were his lifeline.
"shhh..." You ran your fingers through his hair in a calming manner, holding him. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before you were able to lead him into the house where he passes out on the couch.
~
JJ sulks onto the front porch, his head pounding and body feeling like he was hit by a bus. You're leaned against railing, gazing out to the water. It was a calm morning.
"Morning," His voice is husky and he smells clean as he approaches you.
You glance at him, his hair is wet and he's in clean clothes. At least he showered. He reeked last night. "Morning."
"about last night-" He scratches the back of his neck. It had come back to him in pieces but he knew enough to know what happened last night - or well this morning.
"I'm only going to say this once." You're stern as you face him, "If you ever pull the shit you did last night, you won't have anyone to come home to. I'm here for you JJ, always. And you can't spiral like that ever again." You rub a hand over your bump, "Are we in an understanding?"
He nods, "I can't even begin to apologize or have the words. I should have come home to you two." He places an uneasy hand on your belly, "I'm not him. I never will be."
"I know you aren't." You loop your arms around his middle, laying your head against his chest, "You're more than he will ever be."
~
I hope you all enjoyed this part two and I hope I did it justice for those who asked for it! I feel like I'm still a little rusty as I get back into writing here and there, so please be nice and be patient.
Likes, comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!
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