#WHEN I TELL YOU I GO BACK EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE TO LOOK AT THIS
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sttoru · 2 days ago
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outlaw!toji who initially kidnapped you for money, to rob you from your valuable belongings, eventually forms a strange attachment to you. he can’t help but feel a faint twinge of guilt for robbing a pretty and delicate little thing like you.
so, he decides to let you return to your beloved family in town. though he does not let you go completely.
every now and then when toji is passing by the town you reside in - avoiding sheriffs and other people whom could possibly recognise him from the wanted posters plastered on every wall - he looks for you.
of course, you freak out the first time he sneaked up on you. however slowly yet surely, you let your guard down. the outlaw didn’t harm you in any way after all.
“how ‘re ya doin’, princess?” toji would always greet you with that signature, cocky smirk of his, leaning against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chiseled chest or his hands on his worn gun belt.
sometimes you reply quickly, but on other occasions you indulge him and continue the conversation. it’s often at night that he visits you, so you have less of a chance to get caught together.
you don’t know when or how toji found out where your family’s house is. he simply started showing up at your balcony once in a while, just to catch up. after a couple times, you even let him in.
those nightly visits swiftly turned into something more intimate. it feels so wrong yet so right. a dangerous criminal who’s killed hundreds, who had even kidnapped you one day, being invited into your bed— how scandalous.
though you can’t help it. his callused yet warm hands that touch your skin, his burly body that presses you into the mattress just right, his slightly chapped lips that nip at your flesh and leave marks. . . you don’t regret a thing.
especially when you’re both catching your breath after an intense encounter. toji’s muscular body, filled with countless of scars, blankets yours easily. his arms cradle you to his bare chest afterwards and all you can do is relax against him.
“i think i really hit the jackpot with ya, aye? may not have robbed ya of yer stuff that day, but i got ma prize money one way or ‘nother,” the rugged outlaw grins as he lights up a cigar and holds it between his lips.
you can’t even tell him off for smoking in your room. toji’s fingers massage your scalp so good to the point you’re putty in his hands. the scent of tobacco is also comforting. it’s one you associate with him, because he always smells like it. it’s always a combination of tobacco, nature, horses and gunpowder.
toji knows that he has to leave before anyone comes checking in on you, but he can’t leave you when you look so adorable, clinging onto him like a lifeline.
every time he visits, it’s the same exciting story.
when toji is in a more sentimental mood, he takes you out on a ride. he settles you on the back of his horse, speeding off into the sunset, letting you enjoy the view outside of town.
the beautiful freedom that comes with the life of an outlaw. the freedom of seeing nature in all its glory. you get to experience it all.
at times, when you’re out and about, he takes his chance and teaches you how to handle a gun. toji knows you’ve been spoiled rotten by your parents growing up, so you probably haven’t touched a gun a day in your life. that’s where he comes in.
“oi, watch out. yer gonna blow my fuckin’ face off, girl,” toji grunts with a faint chuckle as he notices your clumsy hand gestures while holding his revolver. it’s endearing, truly. he doesn’t yet understand why it warms his heart to see you try and shoot at the targets he set up.
what the outlaw loves more than that, is when you’re both resting against a large oak tree, with his head on your lap. especially after he gets back from a long and successful heist in a far away town.
toji often lets his cowboy hat cover his face while he naps and uses your thighs as the perfect, plush pillow. the gentle breeze only adds to the perfect moment.
when you take his stetson and put it on your head instead in a innocent gesture, he lazily opens one eye and raises a brow in amusement.
“oh? that yer way of telling me y’ want a ride?” toji teases before pinching your cheek. he loves seeing that flustered expression on your face when you’re once again reminded of the cowboy hat rule he taught you the other day.
toji never misses the opportunity, however. he sits up and leans back against the tree trunk, patting his thick thighs which he spreads lightly.
“hop on f’ me then, pretty. show me how good of a cowgirl y’ are, yeah?”
well, briefly said, it’s never a dull moment with outlaw!toji.
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pathologicalreid · 2 days ago
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that gold mine changed you | s.r.
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in which Spencer won't open up to you following his release from prison and you've reached your breaking point
margovember
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warning: post prison/prison arc, lack of communication, chemist!reader, slightly proofread word count: 2.13k a/n: love this song. both the original and the phoebe bridgers cover.
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i don’t wanna be here anymore; it all tastes like poison
You rifled through the dish that you kept on the entryway console, looking for your car keys so that you could get out. It was hard to describe the way you felt like a spinning top, not dizzy but out of control. Everything felt so out of control.
How could you let it get this bad? You breathed heavily as you fished your keys from the pottery and looped your finger through the key ring. Wiping your nose with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, your eyes caught onto some movement in your periphery.
“You’re leaving?” Spencer asked from down the hallway; his work clothes were rumpled and creased like he’d fallen asleep in them.
You had hoped that he would have the ability to ease himself back into society after three months of prison, and you always took the time to assure him that you would be there for him. Desperately, you tried to be a pillar of support, but you had reached your breaking point.
He’d been given six weeks to readjust. When that didn’t seem to be working, you thought maybe he needed to find his rhythm again, but going back to work at the BAU didn’t seem to help him either. It wasn’t until his first sabbatical hit that you finally considered the fact that things would never be the same between the two of you again.
When you didn’t answer, Spencer put his foot out but hesitated to take a step toward you. “Are you going to come back?”
Swallowing thickly, you looked down at the keys in your hand, “I don’t know.” You eyed the key to your lab, the one place you could always go to escape when you needed to, but you never imagined needing to escape from Spencer.
You weren’t even sure he had been sleeping in the same bed as you, and if he was, he was getting in after you and getting up before you. There was once a moment when you and Spencer shared every minute detail of your lives with each other, at least the parts you weren’t together for, but now you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what he was teaching in his lectures, and he couldn’t guess which projects you were working on.
When Spencer was in prison, you thought that was the loneliest you would ever be, but now you were living with the ghost of the man who you once loved, and you had never felt more alone.
Last week, you had practically begged him, very nearly gotten on your knees and pled with him to have a substantial conversation with you. He didn’t seem interested.
you believe that you love me
Looking back up, your eyes widened at the revelation that Spencer had made his way to you in complete silence; he was standing in front of you, “You’re sneaking out?”
Your nostrils flared in frustration; you were sneaking out of your own apartment, a space that you and Spencer were supposed to share, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. “Did I do something wrong?” You asked him, studying his brown eyes as they appeared until the cool light of the moon.
He set both of his hands on your upper arms, and you pulled away from his touch. Spencer flinched back as surely as if you’d struck him. If you pulling away from him hurt, then he wouldn’t be able to fathom how you were feeling right now—how you had been feeling for the last seven months.
“Is it because of your mom?” You tried again, silver lining your eyes as you looked up at him, mercurial tears streaming down your cheeks as you begged for an answer. “I was at work when she was abducted,” you reminded him, having thrown yourself into work while Spencer was in prison. “Is it because I didn’t help her?”
Spencer’s lips parted in surprise, “I didn’t know you blamed yourself for that.” His arms hung limply by his sides, fists clenching and unclenching in an attempt to release nervous energy.
Blinking tears from your eyes, your shoulders slouched at what felt like a rejection, “How would you? You don’t talk to me,” you told him, your tone wholly accusatory.
“We talk every day,” he rebutted, the energy in your conversation veering toward hostility. That’s not what you wanted; you just wanted to feel at peace.
Three months in prison, six weeks of mandatory leave, one hundred days with the team, twenty days into his first sabbatical, and Spencer was refusing to face what you had already run into headfirst. “We haven’t had a real conversation since February, Spencer. It’s September.”
His eyebrows pinched together as he studied your body language, profiling you to deduce what you wanted from him instead of just asking you. “What do you mean ‘a real conversation?’”
You pressed your lips together in a thin line, and you searched every part of your brain for something to say that wouldn’t contribute to taking your life apart brick by brick. You couldn’t. The words simply weren’t there anymore. Maybe you had left them behind months ago, but right now, you shrugged helplessly, “You’re different, Spence.”
He peered down at you as if you had offended him, “Did you expect me to stay the same?”
It was pathetic. You felt pathetic. Staying in your entryway and begging for someone who previously kissed the ground you walked on for a reason to stay. You never had to ask him before. “I’ve never expected anything but love from you, and you know that,” you told him, pulling the truth from the depths of your soul and putting it on display for him.
Spencer took a step back, stumbling as if his legs were threatening to give out beneath him. “You don’t think I love you anymore?” His own tears welled in his eyes, glittering saline along his lash line that made your chest ache.
You blinked, letting more tears fall down your cheeks. You heard the droplets as they fell on the vinyl decal of your sweatshirt, the only noise in the midst of an otherwise deathly silence. “You have given me no reason to believe that you do,” you admitted, your voice tight with emotion.
so, lose your faith in me
“Don’t leave,” he gasped, struggling through his tears. He held a hand out to you, too hesitant to touch you because of the way you reacted earlier.
You felt like you were tearing your own heart from your chest. You held the organ in your hands, blood dripping to the floor and seeping within the woodgrain, and you asked him to put it back where it belonged. “I can’t do this anymore,” you told him.
He set a hand on the side of your neck, and this time, you didn’t pull away from him. Instead, you savored his touch, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin as the two of you waited for something to give. Three months in prison had been a test of your relationship; you had very little contact with each other. Nothing face-to-face, and after a while, Spencer’s mail started to go missing—interference by a prison guard who had it out for him. You thought that getting him back would fix everything.
Spencer was exactly the same, but somehow, he was completely different after his release. You couldn’t fault him for what he had gone through in prison, but you refused to continue your pattern of dancing around each other.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice so faint that you would’ve missed it had you not been searching for it. His breaths were quickening, and if it weren’t so dark, you’d be sure that his pupils were dilated in fear.
You pursed your lips, “Say it again.” You wanted to hear him. You needed to hear him. You so desperately wanted to hear him repeat himself so that you could throw your arms around him and let him know that everything was perfectly fine.
He panted, “I love you,” he echoed. “Please,” his voice broke, “I love you so much.”
“I want to believe you,” you breathed, looking back down at the keys that remained in your hand. As far as you were concerned, Spencer was the Patron Saint of Liars. He had the intelligence and the experience to become a master manipulator. He’d lied to you before. What was stopping him from doing it again? He knew that I love you was what you wanted to hear. When faced with telling a lie and losing you, the choice was laid out in front of him.
He nodded as if he understood, but you weren’t convinced that he possessed the bandwidth to fully comprehend why you were so unhappy. “I’m sorry for lying to you,” he whispered.
You lost your balance, your back slammed against the wall, and your eyes widened as a result of his apology, “Why?”
Spencer’s brown eyes widened as you slid down the wall, waiting until you were sat on the floor to speak again, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Mexico.”
“You could’ve told me,” you told him, “I could’ve helped you, Spencer. Then we could… Then maybe…” your voice trailed off, lost in a sea of hiccuping sobs.
Gingerly, Spencer lowered himself to the ground and took a seat next to you, “Maybe I wouldn’t have gone to jail. You’re right,” he admitted, “but maybe they would’ve killed you too. Maybe there would have been the same outcome as the one we got, or maybe it would have been much worse.”
Releasing a shuddering breath, you pulled your knees to your chest and wrapped your arms around them. “Lorenz,” you murmured, closing your eyes to relieve some of the burning.
“The Butterfly Effect,” Spencer commented, “Small changes can have large consequences. I made a decision that had massive ramifications and negatively impacted you, and I haven’t been doing enough to fix it.”
You sighed, “You can’t fix it, Spence. It’s like a band-aid over a bullet hole.” You thumbed the hem of your sweatpants, opening your eyes just to stare straight ahead at the wall.
He hummed in what you sincerely hoped was understanding, “I took six years of building trust with you and destroyed it, and now when I tell you I love you, you don’t believe me.”
“You told me you were going to Houston,” you whispered.
“I told everyone I was going to Houston,” he said softly.
Your head snapped in his direction, “I deserved more than what everyone else got. I deserved an explanation, and instead, you lied to me. You lied to me, and then you wouldn’t even let me see you while you were in prison.”
The corners of his mouth downturned, “I didn’t want you to see me in there, and I didn’t want anyone else to see you in there.” You’d heard second hand from JJ that the men at Millburn had ogled her the entire time she was visiting Spencer, and maybe he had explained himself in one of the missing letters, but he hadn’t mentioned it since coming home.
“Spencer, I just want to talk with you,” you whispered. “I want to have a conversation with my boyfriend that doesn’t end with him creating some arbitrary mental block because he doesn’t think I can handle it.”
There was a moment where you thought he was just going to let you go, but Spencer Reid liked to keep the things he cared about close. “It’s not because you can’t handle it, it’s because I can’t handle it,” he admitted.
You turned your body to face him, “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to tell you about prison,” he clarified. “I barely want to tell my therapist about prison, but you—” his voice broke, and your heart went with it. “If I tell you everything I’ve done, you wouldn’t want to be with me anyway.”
You frowned, “Try me.” Your heart was racing; this bit here was decisive. His response would either mean letting go or moving forward.
He looked down at his lap, “Come to therapy with me tomorrow. It’s… there’s something about the leather couch that turns me into an open book.” He told you, nervously running his palms up and down his cloth-covered thighs. Instinctively, you reached out and grabbed his hands, putting a stop to his compulsive movements. He leaned his head back and stared up at the ceiling, “Please don’t leave.”
Shaking your head, you sniffled through your tears. If you’d had more energy, maybe you would’ve given him a soft smile, but for now, you answered him, “I won’t.”
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gravegoer · 2 days ago
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Do you write for Grayson by any chance? I really wished we got see more of her before her unfortunate demise
Sevika, Ambessa, Grayson
i write for anyone! and you can request a separate thing for grayson if you'd like but I decided to do the 3 butches in 1 so here's some random stuff for them <3 (this is needed after the pain of act 3)
my masterlist
council member sevika fic
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Ambessa doesn't love often, but when she does, she loves HARD.
Since you're close to her, she is constantly worried people about hurting you to get to her.
You might have enforcers on you 24/7 unless you tell her to stop and if that's the case. She will follow you around herself. Making sure people know you are always under a close watch by her.
When you walk in public together, she likes you to have your arms wrapped around her bicep/forearm, keeping you as close as possible.
If that's not in your taste she will sling a heavy arm over your shoulder, careful not to weigh you down.
She is always buying you expensive and lavish clothing. If your gaze lingers on anything for too long, you'll see it at your doorstep the next day.
When you see a nice shop you like she's going to take you in and make you try on clothes for her. Putting her hand on your waist as she spins you around. Inviting you to stand between her spread legs so she can see the details better.
If you like to wear heels and your feet start to get tired, she will sit you down and take them off your feet herself, opting to carry you around for the next few hours.
When she carries you, you can see all the scars on her arms and face in full detail. She doesn't seem to mind your staring and might even take pride in herself.
As you're cuddling, she loves it when you trace your fingers over her scars, admiring every bump and edge. She will tell you dramatic stories about how she got them. (Definitely exaggerating some details.)
You could talk together for ages, bringing up random stories and irrelevant details. Her rough hands combing through your hair, or massaging your shoulders.
This was a weekly thing in the hot springs. She sits on the ledge above you while your shoulders slot themselves between her thick, scarred thighs.
She will take care of you without expecting anything back, but she definitely loves it when you return the favor. She will rest her head on your thighs and groan in pleasure when you massage her temples or scalp.
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Grayson is a romantic, she will be showing up at your door with flowers in hand.
If she met you in Zaun, she will insist on taking you out on a fancy dinner date at her favorite Piltover resteraunt.
If you refuse, that's okay too. She's fine with eating at any of Zaun's resteraunts. (Just not seafood, please.)
She's asking you what your favorite flower is so she can bring you those instead next time.
And if you are a Zaunite, she isn't ashamed of your relationship, showing you off proudly. After all, all the enforcers do look up to her. What are they going to do?
If you don't know how to shoot, she will be more than pleased to teach you. Your back is pressed against her warm chest as she wraps her arms around you to hold the gun steady.
Her rough voice firmly commands you on where to put your hands and which parts do what.
Speaking of her voice, she knows you love it when she whispers sweet nothings in your ear before you drift off to sleep. Her muscled arm cushioning your head and cradling you close to her chest.
It's easy for her to fall asleep once she knows you're safe and comfortable. (That's why she insists on moving in together.
Actually, she insists on doing a lot of things together. For example, she appreciates when you work out with her, sitting on her back while she does pushups, or maybe spotting her while she presses some weight. (Not that she needs it. She just wants you close)
She instructs you on what workouts you can do and where to place her hands, maybe placing hers on yours for a bit too long.
You can see the sweat gleam on her forehead and the veins in her forearm after every set she completes. This is a sight you can grow to appreciate.
She definitely subtlety flexes when you touch her arm or basically anywhere else she can possibly bring herself to flex. (You notice)
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Sevika is the gentlest giant. At first, you might assume her tone is rough and condescending. But after some time, you start to see through her facade.
Her tone around is more firm and calm. It's more around you than anyone else. She tries not to get aggressive or angry with you.
And if she does, she's immediately making it up to you in every way but saying "sorry"
She's bringing you your favroite foods, giving you a little more affection than usual, reluctantly letting you fidget with her mechanical arm.
She does take you out to places, albeit not the fanciest. She makes do with what Zaun has to offer. Buying you a drink at the bar or a trip across the city.
Although she's not really a big fan of PDA, she will let you hold her arm while walking around Zaun. She swears it's a safety precaution to make sure no creeps get close.
When she plays cards at the bar, you are always beside her, no arguements. She doesn't want you sitting by any of the other shady men that play with her.
Maybe if there is few enough people you can sit in her lap and light her cigarillo for her.
What you don't do in public is definitely made up for in private.
She lays on your lap after a long day, taking deep inhales into your stomach to calm down. Grabbing your hand, she'll encourage you to run your fingers through her hair.
Let's you hold her face in your hands and trace her intricate scar while her eyes are closed, completely letting her guard down.
Her large hand engulfs your own as she cradles your hand close to her face, imprinting this memory in her mind.
Just know she is extremely touch starved. Most of the touching she gets all day is punches and kicks, nothing close to the gentle sweep of your fingers on her exposed skin.
She isn't a big gift giver, but if you give her a neat suprise, like an expensive zippo or a new shirt (God knows she needs one) you swear you see a small tear in the corner of her eye. Maybe its just the light.
But who cares because her lips will immediately be on yours, engulfed in a hot kiss.
i feel like sevika needed more screen time in the last act but its okay as long as she didn't die...
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mxrcielaguito · 2 days ago
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Oh boi, I've been wanting to write Elliott x Farmer for a while so here we go:
Based off one of the comments of the original post
"I would suggest we make time for a little 'rendezvous' in my old cabin... But I'm afraid it's become rather... Musty... In my absence" Elliott says. I'd like to think he's being playful but I can't really tell. His words are mischievous but his eyes seem melancholic. I mean, well, he writes angsty stuff all the time, why would this be any different, he loves feeling melancholic. He's an overemotional drama queen, and that's pretty much why I fell for him in the first place. But something's off today.
I look at him, up and down. Wouldn't be the first time we escape a social gathering and make time for ourselves. I work relentlessly. He writes relentlessly. Our kids mess around the house relentlessly, too.
"Why not?" I suggest. "It's not like anyone's paying attention."
His green eyes widen, his face blushes for just an instant and I recognize his look. He bites his lower lip, grabs my arm and pulls me into the cabin so quickly I can't even react. As soon as I step into the cabin I understand what he meant by "musty". The air feels heavy, humid, and the wood is starting to decay. His old piano is still there; withering away.
He locks the door behind us and I can already feel his heavy breath. I can't help but find it cute. It's been three years and he still gets all hot and bothered. He's turning his back on me, his hand still on the door knob.
"Elliott? Are you all right?" I ask.
"I have really neglected this place, haven't I..." He murmurs. "It's- it's not romantic at all, I-..."
"Love, it's okay, I don't mind" I try to reassure him, rubbing his back. Something's wrong but I'm not can't put my finger on it. "It's been quite some time since the last time you came here, huh."
Elliott laughs nervously and forces himself to let go of the door knob. He turns around and looks at his cabin, his eyes scanning every corner.
"I really used to live like this, didn't I?"
"I didn't know this place brought you bad memories", I say, my voice soft, almost a whisper. I know we don't talk much; my words are usually rather scarce, I can't remember the last time we sat and spoke to each other. I'd rather listen, but Elliott doesn't speak too much, either.
He runs a hand through his copper hair.
"Once upon a time, there lived a man by the sea..." Elliott speaks quietly, absently. "He dreamed of fame and greatness; he dreamed of people remembering his name. However, that day never came, and his little cabin by the sea, he let it rot away."
I frown, trying to make a meaning off of this.
"My father bought this cabin a long time ago, we used to have our vacation here, when I was a kid. With time I guess we all forgot about it, then I remembered it when he kicked me out."
My eyes widen.
"He... Kicked you out? Why am I learning about this just now?!"
"Well, he wasn't happy when I said I wasn't pursuing a career in the family business." Elliott runs his hand through the dusty desk, then fidgets around with an old inkwell. The ink has been dry for a very long time. "I didn't have much money. I was running out when I met you."
"That part, I remember, yeah", I reply.
"It's not that this cabin holds bad memories, as you said. It just a reminder of almost everything that hasn't worked out in my life. All the scrapped manuscripts. All the arguing with my father. All the times I stayed up late, trying to come up with the perfect plot, the perfect words, the perfect... Everything" he closes his eyes and sighs. I look at him and take his hand in mine. I love it: it's so soft. "And then, one day, you showed up and took care of that old farm nobody cared about. And you took care of me..."
He leans his head over mine. His hair tickles my nose, and it smells like pomegranate shampoo.
"I can take care of this place, too" I suggest, trying to cheer him up. "Just like I did with the farm."
"No, no. This place is mine to bear, not yours. However I would like to take your example and make this old place something worth the effort. Something out kids will be happy inheriting."
I look up at him and smile.
"Yeah? You wanna do that?"
Elliott smiles and nods. I feel his hand make its way through my eternally sore back to my waist. I rest my hand on his, fidgeting with his wedding ring.
"It's not that musty", I tease, after a very long silence. "The bed's still in good shape."
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When you're just trying to make some goddamn soup but Elliott wants to have sex in his mouldy ass cabin.
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deathbxnny · 2 days ago
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Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything that’s gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to ”subtly” change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all they’ve been through would be so healing :3 It’s up to you which way you want to take it 🐁💖 I’m fine with both platonic and romantic, but I’d love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if that’s ok :)
I love love love your writing, reading your HC’s before bed has become an important part of my day and it’s always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations 💖 I can’t wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!
The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader
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I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33
Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.
You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.
And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.
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》VI
"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.
It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.
Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.
Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.
She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.
"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."
You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.
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》JINX
"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.
Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.
"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.
"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?
"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.
"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"
Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.
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》CAITLYN
She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.
Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.
And this time she had finally succeeded.
Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.
"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.
"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.
You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."
You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.
Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.
A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.
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gotta-winwin · 2 days ago
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OT13 Reaction -- to you showing up at their work
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SCOUPS: his first instinct is that something is wrong. rushes up to you with worry in his eyes and asks if everything is okay. brightens into a big smile when you tell him you just wanted to see him! excuses himself from practice to join you for lunch before dropping you back home. it hurts that he has to leave you to go back to work but your surprise has rejuvenated him.
JEONGHAN: smirks to hide how unbelievably happy he is to see you. makes fun of you, asking if you really missed him that much?? it's only noon, baby. miss me already? gets flustered when you say yes. pulls you into whatever shenanigan he's cooking up with the members.
JOSHUA: is a little shy to interact with you properly in front of the members. whines when they make fun of him for looking at you with such loving eyes. pulls you to the side to express how grateful he is that you came to surprise him at work.
JUN: initially upset he even had to work on a day off, your presence cheered him up so much! feels his energy coming up just from seeing you. drags you over to meet his members, bragging about how he has a wonderful gf and they do not.
HOSHI: cannot stop looking at you during practice. it's the only time the other members see him distracted during work, esp during dancing. he just can't help it - how can he work when you're right there?? rushes to you immediately once break is called.
WONWOO: is very flustered and caught off guard that you're here. chides you for making the trip over here, saying you could've just called him if you missed him sm. shows his appreciation through actions, leaving practice early to show you around, taking you out on a date after.
WOOZI: he's so in the zone he doesn't notice you've entered his studio until your arms are around him. flinches thinking you're Hoshi coming to annoy him, but melts into your arms once he realizes its you. apologizes that he still has to finish a couple more songs, orders you food and dessert so you can be comfy while waiting. gets inspiration for his lyrics just by seeing you sit there.
THE8: is so happy you're here. although he tries his best keeping his cool in front of his members, he can't help but giggle every time he sees you're acc here. death stares every member that tries bothering you, claiming that you're here for him, not them. (¬⤙¬ )
MINGYU: eats up all the attention. brags to his members openly about how lucky he is that he has a girlfriend who surprises him at work! brags even more when you pull out food you ordered for them all. nags until all the members thank you profusely, making you flush under the amount of attention.
DK: screeches when he sees you within company walls. you look so out of place here! but so pretty! AH! his brain fries a bit, clinging onto you as he tells you he never expected you to show up at his work. is sosososo excited to show you exactly what he does as an idol.
SEUNGKWAN: becomes the coolest idol persona ever the moment he sees you're here. he's trying his hardest to impress you like - yes bby this is how i usually am at work, so cool right? - introduces you to EVERYONE possible. knocking on enhypen's door? yes. showing you to the manager? yes. the building janitor? you're saying hi to him too.
VERNON: his face turns SO red the moment the members point out you're here. gets all shy (the 218 bro vlive with DK) and hides behind his jacket/beanie. cannot say more than 5 words to you the entire time, knowing he'll malfunction and forget about working. expresses how grateful and loved he feels once you guys gets home.
DINO: solidifies in his mind that he IS the main character. parades you around to show everyone he has a gf!! clings onto you the whole time - basically gets nothing done the whole day. it's like he can't be more than 2 feet away from you or he'll die. you end up getting a text for S.Coups telling you you can't come back or else Dino will never get anything done.
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ellieslittleslutt · 3 days ago
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Ellie Taking Care of You When You’re Sick
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cw: tooth rotting fluff and i guess a bit of kisses. lmk what i missed!!
a/n: i’m gonna try writing some more fics so please feel free to request!
here’s ellie taking care of sick reader @violetchapstick!!
MEN DNI!!!
──────˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ──────
getting sick was a common experience for you. at least once every other month you got hit with a cold, which was probably due to the lack of vaccines you got with your fear of needles.
your girlfriend ellie loved to be there by your side no matter if it risked her getting sick.
one morning you slept in late feeling sluggish and slow. you opened your eyes to the soft kisses of ellie’s lips on your neck and a soft stuffy hum coming from you.
“morning…” ellie mumbles into your neck while your eyes barely stay open “mh.. mornin’” you mutter.
just by your voice ellie could tell what was going on. “sick again?” she asks pulling her lips off your neck and looks over at your flushed face and red nose and you just nod.
she pulled you closer in rubbing your back lips pressed to your hair “want me to get the cold medicine?” she asks you softly with a hum. “please?” you reply looking up at her with glossy droopy eyes.
that afternoon ellie sat besides you in bed calling off of work. she kept tissues with you and some chapstick for your lips. there was a half eaten plate of toast with butter and jam on it and your favorite fruit.
she glanced over at your head rested on her shoulder half asleep making her smile softly. lifting her finger running it softly on the bridge of your nose and kisses your temple “tired?” she says softly. replying with a sleepy nod breathing heavy and cuddling closer into her side.
ellie chuckles pulling you closer turning down the tv “go to sleep baby…” she coos at you twirling your hair.
later that night you were having a small fit of sick giggles laughing at your favourite show barely registering what they’re saying. ellie was smiling watching you “you’re giggly huh?” she chuckles and you just giggle in response. you were so out of it but ellie just kissed your forehead.
──────˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ──────
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mcrveilles · 1 day ago
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just this once // ln4
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still overwhelmed, still can't believe this this is getting to much attention 😭 ❤️🫶 THANK YOU FOR YOUR FEEDBACK AND YOUR RESPONSES I LOVE EVERY BIT OF IT
also why are my WORDS LIMITED???? I want to write MORE wtf tumblr
word count: 3.7k with some extras in the form of social media posts warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy, conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: after things cooled down for a little while, you have to face lando and your feelings once again... this time with consequences.
tag list: @sltwins @sarx164 @hadesnumber1daughter @fullmugwolffish @willowsnook @sageskiesf1 @f1fantasys @cmleitora @rawr-123s-stuff @leclercdream @chezmardybum @landossainz @cloud-55 @sillyfreakfanparty @harrysdimple05 @mwuaferrari @milkysoop
PART FOUR/2 previous part - next part
The sun dips low over the sky, painting it in shades of amber and rose as you finish getting ready. You’ve been pacing your hotel room for the last twenty minutes, debating whether you should even go to this dinner. Max made it sound casual, just friends and some of Lando’s crew, but the way your stomach twists tells you it’s anything but simple.
Since Monaco, things with Lando have been... complicated. He stayed over after Qualifying, the two of you wrapped in an unspoken agreement to keep things platonic. But nothing about the way he looked at you, the way his presence filled your space, felt friendly. Then there was the race—his P4 finish—and the small get-together afterward, where you both acted like nothing had happened. Since then, his schedule’s relentless pace kept you apart, exchanging only a few texts that danced around anything real. Just keeping in touch.
And now, this dinner.
You change into your favorite outfit, something understated but flattering, and force yourself to take a deep breath. It’s just a dinner. You’re friends, you tell yourself.
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yourusername London, United Kingdom
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The restaurant hums with life as you step inside, trailing Max and Pietra. Warm light glints off polished wood and delicate glassware, and the buzz of conversation wraps around you like a soft blanket. You glance at the private room Max mentioned earlier, feeling your pulse quicken. You know who’s waiting there.
When you walk in, the first person you see is him. He’s tipped back in his chair at the head of the table, laughing at something someone said, his grin so easy and familiar it makes your chest ache. Then his eyes land on you, and for a moment, everything else in the room seems to blur.
“About time,” he says, standing up in one smooth motion. His voice is light, teasing, but there’s something in his gaze that sends a spark down your spine. He greets Max with an effortless handshake-hug, Pietra with a peck on the cheek, and then his attention falls to you.
“Stranger,” he says. “Lando,” you reply, keeping your voice even as you raise an eyebrow. His grin tilts, just a little lopsided, and the look in his eyes feels like a challenge.
The dinner is exactly what you expected—good food, great wine, and laughter that fills the space like it’s been waiting for all of you to show up. Max, seated on your right, is in big-brother mode, making sure you try everything and nudging your glass whenever it’s even close to empty. Across from you, Pietra chats animatedly with one of Lando’s friends, and you smile along, but your attention keeps drifting. Lando is at the far end of the table, surrounded by people who hang onto his every word. He’s effortlessly charismatic, telling some story you can’t quite hear, but that has everyone laughing. Except every now and then, his eyes meet yours, just for a second. It’s like he’s checking in, or maybe daring you to look away first.
You don’t.
When he gets up to refill his drink, he passes behind you, his hand brushing lightly over your shoulder. The touch is so brief, so casual, that no one else notices. But it sends a shiver through you anyway. “Having fun?” he murmurs, his voice low and private, meant just for you. “Loads,” you reply, trying to sound unimpressed even as heat rises to your cheeks.
His chuckle is soft, almost affectionate, before he moves away. You tell yourself to focus, to ignore the way your heart is beating just a little too fast.
Later, the table splits into smaller conversations, and somehow, Lando ends up next to you. Max is too busy laughing at something Pietra said to notice when Lando leans in, his shoulder brushing yours. “This is torture,” he says under his breath, his knee knocking lightly against yours under the table. Your throat goes dry. “What is?” “You. Wearing this dress.” His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you hold your breath.
You don’t know how to respond, and for a moment, you just sit there, the noise of the room fading into the background. Then Max glances over, and Lando straightens, all easy charm again. “What are you two whispering about?” Max asks, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. Lando doesn’t miss a beat. “Just telling your sister she has terrible taste in wine.”
“Hey!” you protest, and the table laughs. Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He drinks that sparkling stuff like it’s water.” The conversation moves on, and you pretend everything is normal, even as Lando’s knee stays pressed against yours under the table. And you don’t move away.
As the laughter around the table flows easily, your own chuckle gets caught in your throat when Lando leans back in his chair, stretching casually, but you don’t miss the way his knee once again brushes against yours under the table. It’s subtle, almost as if he’s testing to see how long he can get away with it without anyone noticing. Your pulse quickens, and you do your best to focus on Pietra, who’s telling an animated story about a mishap at her last work event.
But Lando is… distracting. His words replay in your head on an endless loop—”this is torture”—and you swear you can still feel the ghost of his knee against yours under the table. It’s maddening, really. The ease with which he teases you under Max’s nose, how effortlessly he switches back to joking with the group like he didn’t just upend your entire sense of composure.
You glance his way and catch him smirking, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. His focus shifts back to his drink, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression—playful yet deliberate—that makes it impossible to ignore him. You try to shake it off. You tell yourself that it’s just Lando being Lando: cheeky, teasing, good at making people feel... something. Just like always. Except this doesn’t feel like always, and that’s the problem. You’re trying to focus on the ongoing conversation. Something about summer plans, maybe? You’re not even sure anymore. Lando is leaning back in his chair again now, one arm draped lazily over the back of his seat, looking every bit like someone who hasn’t a care in the world. But he keeps glancing at you when he thinks no one else will notice.
“Alright,” Max announces suddenly, clapping his hands together as if he’s about to make a grand proclamation. “Drinks back at mine?” There’s a chorus of agreement around the table as chairs start scraping against the floor and people gather their things. You hesitate, glancing at your phone like you might have an excuse to slip away. But before you can concoct some half-hearted reason to head back to the hotel, Pietra loops an arm through yours, effectively trapping you. “You’re coming, right?” although she forms it as a question, you know it’s really not.
“I wouldn’t want to miss out,” you reply lightly, smiling at Pietra. Who, satisfied with your response, let’s go of you to join Max again. Your stomach twists again when you see Lando standing by the door, your coat in his hands, waiting like he has all the time in the world. His curls are a little messy, his grin lazy, yet sharp as his eyes meet yours in the dim light. It’s as if he can sense your hesitation and is daring you to pull away. “Come on, stranger,” he says softly, leaning just close enough that his voice feels like it’s wrapping around you. “Can’t bail now.” You narrow your eyes at him, trying to ignore the way your heart jumps at the way he towers ever so slightly over you. “I didn’t say I was bailing.” “No?” His gaze drops briefly to your phone in your hand, then flicks back up to catch yours. “Good,” he says, his voice dipping lower, quieter. “Because I wasn’t going to let you.”
It’s infuriating how easily he gets under your skin. With a huff of mock-annoyance—because genuine annoyance is impossible when he’s looking at you like that—you slide your arms into the coat he’s still holding and step away before the spark between you burns any brighter.
The group spills out into the cool night air, laughter echoing down the cobblestone street as everyone makes their way toward Max’s flat. Pietra loops her arm through yours again, chatting about some new café she wants to try tomorrow for breakfast. The walk to Max’s place is short, but it feels like an eternity with Lando so close behind you in the group. Every step feels charged, like there’s an invisible string stretched taut between the two of you. You try not to think about what he said earlier—or how his knee pressed against yours, or how warm his hand had been on your shoulder at dinner—but it’s useless. He’s inescapable, even when he isn’t touching you.
When you finally reach Max's apartment, everyone else appears calm and carefree. However, you have come to the realization that you can no longer let Lando do this to you. You don’t know if he isn’t aware of the drama it would cause if Max found out or if he just doesn’t care about the consequences—you however do care about the consequences. While never openly spoken about, you know how your brother would feel about this. He’d hate it. Lando is his best friend and you are his little sister. Two things that, frankly, shouldn’t mingle so close. So you make the decision to talk to Lando tonight.
It’s not like you don’t care or that you don’t feel things when you’re around him, but is acting on it really worth the pain it could and would cause?
Eventually everyone is spread across the living room, laughing and reminiscing, the buzz of good drinks and great music keeping the energy alive. You’re perched on the arm of the couch, balancing your drink as Pietra chats animatedly beside you. Across the room, Lando lounges in a chair, looking infuriatingly relaxed, his attention shifting to you every few minutes. It’s subtle, the way his gaze lingers just a fraction too long, but you feel it—like a spark skittering across your skin. You pretend not to notice, focusing on Pietra's story about her disastrous attempt at paddleboarding last summer. But when Lando catches your eye mid-sentence, raising his brow in a silent tease, your stomach flips.
Max comes in from the kitchen, holding a fresh beer, his presence immediately commanding attention. “Alright, whose idea was it to leave me in charge of snacks?” he announces. “I could barely find some crisps, let alone figure out this sweets situation.”
Pietra groans. “Max, it’s literally all in the cupboard. You just have to put it in some bowls.”
“But that’s where you put them!” Max protests, plopping down beside Pietra. His knee bumps yours, but his focus is on his girlfriend, who shakes her head fondly. Lando seizes the moment to move closer, taking the newly vacated spot on the couch next to you. “You okay there?” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear. “Perfectly fine,” you shoot back, matching his tone with a pointed glare. But your attempt at indifference falters when his knee brushes yours—deliberately, you’re sure. “You’re really gonna keep your distance tonight, are you?” he asks, his voice light but carrying that edge of challenge that makes your heart race. “I am sitting next to you,” you counter, swirling your drink for effect. “You’re just mad I’m busy talking to everyone else tonight.” He chuckles softly, the sound brushing against your skin like velvet. “Give it time.”
Before you can respond, Max’s voice cuts through the room. “What are you two whispering about now?” His tone is joking, but there’s a hint of suspicion there that makes you stiffen. “Just telling your sister she needs to get some updated LN4 merch for the weekend,” Lando says smoothly, leaning back like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Excuse me?” you retort, feigning outrage. “That stuff is expensive, genius.” The group erupts into laughter, and Max shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “Of course, it is. You should stick to the Quadrant merch anyhow.”
"Hey now," Lando protests with a grin, "I'm hurt, Max. Thought we were friends." The conversation shifts, but you can't shake the tension thrumming beneath your skin. Lando's presence beside you is electric, and you're acutely aware of every subtle movement he makes. You try to focus on the others, laughing at the right moments and nodding along, but your mind keeps drifting back to the man next to you. While Lando's quick thinking may have diffused the situation, it only reinforces your resolve to talk to him. You need to set things straight before they spiral out of control.
As the night wears on, you find yourself growing more and more restless. You've been careful to mingle with everyone, pointedly avoiding extended conversations with Lando. But his presence is a constant, hovering at the edge of your awareness. You catch his eye across the room more than once, and each time, that familiar spark ignites in your chest.
Finally, as the party begins to wind down, you see your chance. Lando slips out onto the balcony, and after a moment's hesitation, you follow. The cool night air is a relief after the warmth of the apartment, and for a moment, you just stand there, letting it wash over you. "Thought you might follow me out here," Lando says softly, not turning around. He's leaning against the railing, his profile illuminated by the city lights below. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Lando, we need to talk."
He turns to face you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "I was wondering when you'd say that," he says softly, a hint of resignation in his voice. You step closer, careful to keep some distance between you. The city sprawls below, a tapestry of twinkling lights and distant sounds, but your focus narrows to the man in front of you. The air feels thick with unspoken words and simmering tension.
"This... whatever this is," you begin, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, "it needs to stop." Lando's brow furrows, a flash of hurt crossing his features before he schools his expression. "What exactly are you referring to?" he asks, his tone carefully neutral. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. "The touches. The looks. The... the way you've been pushing boundaries tonight. It's not fair, Lando." Your words hang in the air between you, heavy with implication. Lando's jaw clenches, a muscle twitching as he processes what you've said. For a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below and the muffled laughter from inside.
"Not fair?" Lando repeats, his voice low but charged with emotion. "What's not fair is pretending there's nothing between us." He takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. "Do you really want to ignore this? To act like we don't feel anything when we're around each other?" You bite your lip, trying to ignore the way your heart races at his proximity. "Lando, it's not that simple. Max is your best friend, and he's my brother. We can't just—"
"Can't what?" he interrupts, his voice rising slightly. "Can't be honest about how we feel? Can't take a chance on something that could be amazing?"—"Shh!" you hiss, glancing nervously at the sliding glass door. "Keep your voice down. Do you want everyone to hear?" Lando runs a hand through his curls, frustration evident in every line of his body. "Maybe I do," he says, though he lowers his voice. "Maybe I'm tired of sneaking around, of pretending I don't want to be near you every second we're in the same room."
His words send a shiver down your spine, and you struggle to maintain your composure. "It's not just about us," you argue, your voice rising slightly. "What about Max? He's your best friend, Lando. How do you think he'd react?" Lando's eyes flash with a mix of frustration and determination. "I care about Max, you know I do. But I'm not going to let fear of his reaction dictate my life. Or my feelings." You glance nervously towards the sliding glass door, worried that your raised voices might carry inside. The last thing you need is for someone to come investigate. "Please, keep your voice down," you hiss, even as your own emotions threaten to overwhelm you. "No," Lando says, his tone firm but not unkind. "I'm tired of keeping quiet about this. About us." He takes another step closer, close enough that you can smell his cologne, a mixture of citrus and something woody that makes your head spin. His proximity is intoxicating, and you find yourself swaying towards him almost unconsciously.
"Lando," you breathe, your resolve weakening with every passing second. The city lights dance in his eyes, casting shadows across his face that only enhance his features. You can see the determination there, the longing, and it mirrors the ache in your own chest. But he's not listening. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and intense in the city lights. "I can't keep pretending," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "Can you?" And before you can answer, before you can even think, he closes the distance between you.
His lips crash against yours, urgent and desperate. For a heartbeat, you're frozen, caught between shock and desire. Then, as if a dam has broken, you're kissing him back with equal fervor. Your hands find their way to his curls, fingers tangling in the soft strands as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. The world narrows to this moment—the taste of him, the warmth of his body, the way your heart threatens to burst from your chest.
It's everything you've been trying to deny, everything you've been afraid to want, distilled into a single, burning instant.
But reality crashes back in like a bucket of ice water, and you jerk away, your eyes wide with panic, breathing hard, your lips tingling and your mind reeling. "We can't," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Lando, we can't do this." Even as every fiber of your being screams to pull him close again. Lando's eyes are wide, his chest heaving as he stares at you, looking as stunned as you feel.
Before he can respond, the sound of the balcony door sliding open makes you both freeze. You take a hasty step back, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure everyone can hear it. Max steps out onto the balcony, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene before him. You and Lando are standing suspiciously close, both of you looking flushed and slightly disheveled. The air between you crackles with tension, and for a moment, the only sound is the distant hum of the city below.
"What's going on out here?" Max asks, his tone light but laced with suspicion. His gaze flicks between you and Lando, searching for answers in your expressions. Lando, ever quick on his feet, lets out a low whistle and gestures broadly at the cityscape. "Just admiring the view, mate," he says, his voice only slightly strained. "Can't beat a night like this, can you?" You nod enthusiastically, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "It's gorgeous," you agree, willing your racing heart to slow. "I was just telling Lando how I could stay out here all night."
Max leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. The look he gives you is one you've known since childhood—the one that says he's not quite buying what you're selling. "Really?" he drawls. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you two were having a pretty intense conversation."
You feel your face flush as Max's gaze bores into you, his expression a mixture of concern and growing suspicion. The air on the balcony suddenly feels thick, charged with an uncomfortable tension that even the cool night breeze can't dispel. The city lights twinkle innocently behind you, a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat. Lando shifts beside you, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, a reminder of what just transpired.
"Max," Lando starts, his voice steady despite the circumstances. But Max holds up a hand, silencing him. "Max," Lando repeats, forcing a laugh that sounds hollow even to your ears. "Mate. We were just..."—"No," Max says, his tone sharp. "I want to hear it from my sister." His gaze locks onto you, and suddenly you feel like you're fifteen again, caught sneaking out to a party. Except this is so much worse.
You take a deep breath, willing your voice not to shake. "Max, it's not—"
"Don't," he interrupts, his eyes flashing. "Don't lie to me. I've seen the way you two have been acting all night. The whispers, the looks. And now I find you out here, alone, looking like..." He gestures vaguely at your disheveled appearance. Your stomach drops as you realize the jig is up. Max's eyes narrow as he looks between you and Lando, taking in your flushed faces, the slight dishevelment of Lando's curls where your fingers had been moments ago.
The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken truths. You can hear the muffled sounds of the party inside, laughter and music that seems to belong to another world entirely. A cool breeze ruffles your hair, carrying with it the scent of the city and the faintest trace of Lando's cologne.
"How long?" Max asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "How long has this been going on?" You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Lando steps forward, his shoulder brushing yours in a gesture that feels both protective and defiant. "Max," he begins, his voice steady despite the tension thrumming through his body. "It's not what you think."
"Oh really?" Max's laugh is bitter, cutting through the night air like a knife. "Because what I think is that my best friend and my sister have been sneaking around behind my back. Am I wrong?"
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4linos · 1 day ago
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asking skz to tie a ribbon around their bicep
ot8 stray kids x gn!reader
request: Asking the ot8 boys to tie a ribbon around their biceps
wc: 4172 (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
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a/n: not proofread 🙂‍↔️.
bang chan
You were at the gym, watching Chan move through his usual routine. His biceps were flexing with each rep, and you couldn't help but appreciate the effort he put into his workout. Your eyes kept drifting back to his muscles, and an idea popped into your head—a mischievous one.
You walked up to him after he finished his set, smiling innocently. “Hey, babe, could you do something for me?”
Chan looked up, wiping the sweat from his forehead, his face already breaking into a smile at the sight of you. “Sure, anything. What’s up?”
You leaned in slightly, “Could you tie a ribbon around your bicep for me? Just for fun.”
Chan blinked at you in surprise, then chuckled. “A ribbon? Around my bicep?”
You nodded, your grin widening. “Yeah, just for me. I think it’d look cute. Please?”
He let out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement, but the smirk on his face said it all—he wasn’t going to say no. “You’re a weirdo, but alright. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
He put the little, decorative ribbon you brought with you around his bicep, making sure it was snug but not too tight. The cheeky sparkle in his eyes caused you to laugh out loud when he turned to face you once more. "You think this is cute enough?" Chan asked, flaunting the ribbon and flexing his arm. "Perfect," you replied, smiling softly as you reached out to gently adjust it. "Everything looks good because of you." He leaned forward and kissed your forehead as his smile softened. "I'll wear a ribbon every day as long as it brings you joy."
You laughed, grateful for how far he’d go to indulge your silly requests.
lee know
On a relaxing afternoon, you and Minho were relaxing at home while you sat cross-legged on the couch and browsed through your phone to the soothing sounds of some music. Minho was at ease as he laid beside you with his arm slung across the back of the couch. You gave him a quick glance as a lighthearted thought occurred to you. You had always liked his biceps, but today you wanted to see them in a completely new way—in a cutesy yet ridiculous way. You quickly placed your phone down and smiled as you turned to face him.
With a hint of mischief in your tone, you said, "Hey, can you do me a favor?" Minho arched an eyebrow, obviously interested but unsure of the direction of this. "What is it?" Reaching over, you placed a little, colorful ribbon you had previously picked up on the side table. It was the perfect size and a gentle pastel tint. Your smile grew as you extended it to him. "Could you tie this around your bicep for me?" Minho looked at you for a time, blinking, as though he was trying to tell if you were kidding. "A ribbon? "Around my arm?" he asked, appearing both genuinely perplexed and amused by the request.
"Yeah," you said, giggling a little. "I think it'd look cute. Just for fun. Please?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "You're so random." But his smile grew, and he took the ribbon from you, clearly willing to indulge you. As he looped it around his bicep, you couldn't help but watch as his muscles flexed slightly under the motion, making your heart skip a beat.
Once it was tied, Minho looked at you, flexing his arm with a smirk. “Happy now?”
You leaned forward, pretending to inspect it, your finger gently adjusting the bow. "Absolutely. You look... ridiculously good. Like a gift wrapped just for me."
He rolled his eyes, clearly entertained. "You're weird," he said with a smile, but you could see the fondness in his eyes.
"You know you love it," you teased, reaching over to give his arm a playful squeeze, feeling the strength beneath your fingers.
Minho smiled, his hand coming up to ruffle your hair. “I really do,” he said, clearly amused by how something so simple could make you so happy.
"Good," you said, resting your head on his shoulder. "You’re the best, Min. Thanks for letting me make you a walking present."
He laughed, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close.
changbin
It was a quiet night at home, and you and Changbin were spending time on the couch while the soft glow of the living room lights created a cozy atmosphere. He was leaning back, his muscles flexing slightly with each movement, while you were snuggled up next to him, your head resting on his shoulder, lazily scrolling through your phone. His biceps, which are well-defined and strong because of the amount of work he puts into his workouts, caught your eye as you looked at him absently. You admired his muscularity, but you couldn't get a silly idea out of your head today.
You turned to him, a mischievous smile slowly spreading across your face. "Hey, Bin," you said, glancing up from your phone.
He looked down at you with an amused expression. "What’s up?"
You hesitated for just a second, then pulled a small ribbon from your pocket, its soft pastel color standing out against the more neutral tones of the room. "Can you do me a favor?"
Changbin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the sudden request. “What kind of favor?”
You held the ribbon out toward him with a teasing grin. “Could you tie this around your bicep for me? Just for fun. I think it’ll look cute.”
He blinked at you, clearly taken aback. “A ribbon? Around my bicep?” His voice was a mix of confusion and amusement, though you could already tell he wasn’t going to say no.
You nodded, your smile widening. “Yeah, I think it’ll look cute. Just once, please?”
Changbin let out a small laugh, shaking his head at your quirky request but not even hesitating to take the ribbon from your hand. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, but there was a hint of playfulness in his voice. “But okay, for you.”
He gently wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the contrast of the soft fabric against his muscular arm making your heart race. You couldn’t help but admire how even something so simple looked so good on him. Once it was secured, he flexed his arm slightly, looking down at it with a smirk.
"Well?" Changbin asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "How do I look?"
You bit your lip, trying to contain your excitement. “You look... ridiculously good,” you said, your voice dripping with affection. “Like some kind of strong, tough guy, but also a little bit of a sweetheart with a ribbon around your arm.”
At your lighthearted remark, he shook his head and laughed. With the ribbon still precisely positioned on his arm, he drew you close to him and added, "I'm glad I can make you happy." You were happy with the small moment as you leaned toward him and put your head against his chest. You smiled to yourself and whispered, "You always do." "You're perfect." Changbin laughed quietly and kissed your forehead.
hyunjin
It was a sunny afternoon, and you and Hyunjin were strolling through a small outdoor market, taking in the sights and smells of the various stalls. You were looking at the colorful displays, the light breeze adding to the pleasant atmosphere. Hyunjin walked beside you, his relaxed stride matching the laid-back vibe of the day, his sleeves rolled up casually, showing off his sculpted arms.
You were walking past a stand with fabric and ribbons when you noticed one that stood out as especially delicate—it was a gentle pastel pink. Before you could stop yourself, you turned to Hyunjin and smiled nonchalantly as an idea struck you. You said, "Hey, Hyun," as you gazed up at him with a playful twinkle in your eyes. He looked down at you, looking at you with interest. "Yeah?" While holding out the ribbon, you said, "Can you do me a favor?"
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "What kind of favor?"
With a teasing smile, you held the ribbon out toward him. "Could you tie this around your bicep? Just for fun," you said, your voice light and playful.
Hyunjin stopped walking for a moment, blinking at you in surprise. "A ribbon? Around my arm?" He chuckled softly, clearly amused by the randomness of the request. "Are you serious?"
You nodded enthusiastically, unable to contain your excitement. "Yep! I think it'd look cute. Come on, please?"
Hyunjin stopped for a moment, then shook his head while continuing to laugh. He said, "You’re really something," but his smile made it clear he wasn't going to turn you down. Taking the ribbon from your hand, he easily tied it around his bicep, his biceps rippling slightly as you both walked ahead. He arched an eyebrow at you as he straightened up and flexed his arm after tying it. With a teasing grin tugging at his lips, he asked, "How do I look?"
When you saw him with the delicate ribbon against his muscular arm, you couldn't help but giggle. Your heart skipped a beat at how incredibly good he looked. "You look... like a model who’s ready to break hearts and steal ribbons," you taunted. Clearly pleased with himself, Hyunjin grinned. "Well, I'm glad you think so," he added, emphasizing with his arm still flexed. "Anything for you, I guess." You bent over and kissed him on the cheek. You muttered, "You're the best," appreciating how he always gave in to your silly requests.
HAN
It was a breezy afternoon, and you and Jisung were taking a stroll through a local park, enjoying the calm atmosphere. The trees were swaying gently in the wind, and the sun was just starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. You walked side by side, hands brushing occasionally, the sound of your footsteps mixing with the peaceful background noise of nature.
As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. Jisung had rolled up his sleeves earlier, revealing his toned biceps. Every time he moved, you couldn’t help but admire how strong he looked, his muscles subtly flexing.
An idea popped into your head, and a playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You decided to have a little fun.
"Hey, Ji," you said, turning to him with a teasing grin.
He glanced over at you with that signature cocky smirk of his. "What? What’s that look for?" he asked, already sensing that something mischievous was coming.
You pulled a soft, pastel ribbon out of your bag that you’d picked up earlier, holding it up with a playful sparkle in your eyes. "Can you tie this around your bicep?" you asked casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Jisung blinked for a moment, his eyebrows lifting in surprise, before a cocky grin spread across his face. "A ribbon? Around my bicep?" he repeated, clearly amused. "What, you think I need a little decoration to match my muscles or something?"
Without even attempting to conceal your laughter, you burst out laughing. "Well, you know," you replied, "It’s just that I think you'd look even more... impressive with it." Jisung laughed, obviously taking pleasure in your flirty banter. "Oh, so I’m already impressive, but a ribbon is just the finishing touch?" His voice was overflowing with confidence as he flexed his arm, obviously playing up the situation. "Alright, I will. For you.” Taking the ribbon from your hand, he wrapped it around his bicep and secured it with a little, exaggerated arm flex. He moved slowly and deliberately, obviously relishing the attention he was receiving. He gave you a dramatic flex after finishing, lifting his arm a little.
With a smug look on his face, he asked, "How’s this?" "Looking good, right?" You chuckle quietly as you admire how self-assured he was about it. "Really?” You shook your head in pleased amazement and replied, "You look ridiculous... but also ridiculously good." "You could wear anything and still manage to look perfect." Jisung leaned in a little, obviously enjoying your compliment. "Of course," he answered, grinning even broadly. "I mean, I always look this good, but if a ribbon makes you smile, I’m all in."
You smiled, reaching up to adjust the ribbon playfully. "You really are full of yourself, huh?"
"Only because I know you like it," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I’m definitely not complaining," you said, feeling the warmth of his confidence mixed with your affection for him.
As you continued your walk together, you couldn’t help but smile at how he always knew how to make you laugh—and how, no matter the request, he would always turn it into something fun.
felix
It was a cozy evening at home, and you and Felix were in the middle of a movie marathon. The soft glow of the fairy lights you’d strung up earlier added to the intimate vibe of the night, and a bowl of popcorn sat between you on the couch. You were curled up beside him, feeling completely content as you both laughed at the random jokes and cheesy moments of the movie.
Felix, who was in a comfortable oversized hoodie and sweatpants, absentmindedly tugged his hoodie off, showing off his lean arms as he adjusted himself on the couch. You couldn't help but notice how good he looked, even in something so simple.
Then, your eyes landed on a cute ribbon you had left on the coffee table. You remembered you had bought it earlier and thought it would be fun to incorporate it into your night somehow. A mischievous idea crept into your mind.
“Hey, Lix,” you said, pausing the movie with a sly grin.
He turned his head toward you with a curious expression. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice full of warmth.
You picked up the ribbon and held it up in front of him, the light catching its soft, pastel color. “Can you do me a favor?” you asked, your tone playful.
Felix blinked and tilted his head, clearly intrigued. “What kind of favor?”
You bit your lip, trying to keep your giggles in check. “Could you tie this around your bicep? I think it’ll look really cute on you.”
Felix's eyes immediately lit up, his face breaking into an excited grin. “Wait… really?” he said, his voice practically bubbling with enthusiasm. “I’ve seen people doing this lately, and I’ve been wanting to try it! Yes! Let’s do it!”
You burst out laughing at his excitement. “I had no idea you’d be so into it.”
Felix practically bounced off the couch in excitement, reaching for the ribbon before you even finished speaking. "I’ve got to do it right, though," he said, his expression full of determination as he wrapped the ribbon carefully around his bicep, making sure it was tied perfectly. He flexed his arm as he finished, clearly pleased with the result.
He turned toward you with a proud smirk. "How’s this? Am I pulling it off?" he asked, his voice full of playful confidence.
You smiled, completely amused by how eager he was. “You look amazing,” you said, laughing. "Honestly, you’re probably the best person to wear a ribbon. It looks like you were born for it."
Felix struck a dramatic pose, flexing his arm again as if he were on a runway. “I knew it,” he said, a cocky grin on his face. “I’m a trendsetter. Always ahead of the curve.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, reaching over to adjust the ribbon slightly. “You’re so extra,” you teased, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “But you really do look good.”
Felix smiled widely, his eyes softening as he pulled you closer. You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling warm and content. “Best decision I made today,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection for him as the movie continued to play in the background. Felix, with his ribbon and his smile, was all you needed in that moment.
seungmin
It was a quiet afternoon in the park. The weather was perfect—cool with a gentle breeze, and the soft sounds of children playing and birds chirping filled the air. You and Seungmin were sitting on a bench near a pond, enjoying the calm atmosphere. He had brought along a book, but you had found yourself distracted, leaning back and soaking in the peaceful scene around you.
As you sat beside him, your fingers absentmindedly ran through the small bag you’d brought along. That was when you noticed it—a soft, pastel ribbon you’d picked up from a craft shop earlier that week. A soft smile crept onto your face as an idea formed.
You glanced over at Seungmin, who was still quietly reading. His biceps were subtly flexing under his fitted T-shirt, and the thought of adding a cute, little accessory to them suddenly seemed like the perfect idea.
“Seung,” you began, your voice light and teasing, “can you do me a favor?”
He looked up from his book, his expression one of mild curiosity. “Hmm? What is it?” His tone was relaxed, not expecting anything unusual.
You held up the ribbon in front of him, trying to hide your excitement. “Can you tie this around your bicep?” you asked, your voice playful. “I think it’ll look cute on you.”
Seungmin blinked, clearly caught off guard. He stared at the ribbon for a moment, then looked back at you, slightly confused. “A ribbon? Around my arm?” he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Why would I do that?”
You pouted, trying to hide your disappointment. “I just think it would be fun,” you said, a little quieter now. “You’d look cute.”
Seungmin frowned slightly, not quite sold on the idea. “It just seems... kind of silly,” he muttered, glancing at the ribbon again. “I don’t know if I want to do that.”
The playful energy you had a moment ago quickly shifted. You felt a little disappointed, even though you knew it wasn’t a big deal. You had just hoped it would be a fun moment to share, but now Seungmin seemed unsure, and you couldn’t help but feel a little deflated.
Noticing the change in your mood, Seungmin's expression softened, his gaze flicking back to you. He realized he might have come off a little too harsh, and seeing the slight sadness in your eyes, he quickly sighed, setting his book aside.
“Okay, okay,” he said, giving you a small but warm smile. “I’ll do it, but don’t expect me to wear it for long, alright?”
You perked up instantly, your smile returning. “Really?” you asked, your tone filled with excitement. “Thank you, babe!”
He rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the small smile on his face. “I don’t get why you like these kinds of silly things, but…” He grabbed the ribbon from your hand and wrapped it around his bicep with exaggerated care, making sure it was tied just right.
Once it was secure, he flexed his arm just a little, showing off the ribbon in a way that almost made you laugh. “How’s that?” he asked, his voice a mix of amusement and slight embarrassment. "You happy now?"
You couldn't stop smiling. He might have been reluctant at first, but he still looked amazing with the ribbon on his arm. “You look great,” you said with a grin, reaching out to gently adjust the ribbon. “I told you, it’s cute.”
Seungmin raised an eyebrow but couldn't suppress a laugh. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But if it makes you happy, I guess I’ll wear it for a little while.”
You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “It makes me very happy,” you said softly, your voice warm with affection. “Thank you for indulging me.” He chuckled, clearly feeling a little more at ease. As you sat together, the ribbon still around his bicep, you felt the warmth of the moment. It wasn’t just about the silly request—it was the way Seungmin always cared enough to make you happy, even if it meant stepping out of his comfort zone for a moment. And that made the simple gesture so much more special.
I.N
It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and Jeongin were relaxing at his place. You were lounging on the couch, enjoying the quiet, while he had been fiddling around with his phone. The windows were open, letting in the soft breeze, and the world outside seemed to slow down as you two enjoyed the calm.
You were absentmindedly scrolling through your own phone when your eyes fell on the small ribbon you’d brought with you. It was a simple, pastel blue, just the right size to fit around a bicep. A playful idea crossed your mind, and you couldn't help but smile.
"Hey, babe," you said, glancing up at him, a teasing grin on your face.
He lowered his phone and looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah? What’s up?” he asked, clearly curious.
You held the ribbon out between your fingers. "Can you tie this around your bicep?" you asked, your tone light and playful. "I think it’ll look cute on you."
Jeongin’s eyes lit up immediately, and a cocky grin spread across his face. He leaned back on the couch, puffing out his chest a little. "A ribbon?" he repeated, clearly liking the attention. "You want me to wear a ribbon around my bicep?"
You nodded, trying to keep your grin in check. "Yep, exactly that. I think it'd be cute, and I wanna see it on you."
He let out a small laugh, the kind that hinted he was already feeling a little too proud of himself. "Oh, so you want me to show off these bad boys, huh?" he said, flexing his biceps a little and making them bulge impressively. "I mean, I have been hitting the gym with the guys a lot lately. All those extra sets are finally paying off."
You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. "Okay, we get it," you teased, giving him a playful push. "You’ve got muscles. Can you just put the ribbon on already?”
Jeongin chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention. "Oh, I’m just getting started," he said, looking down at his arms and admiring them as though he were in front of a mirror. "You know, I have been getting stronger, so now I’m basically a walking advertisement for all my hard work."
You raised an eyebrow at him. "Sure, sure," you said, amused. "Keep flexing. I just want you to tie the ribbon on so I can see how ridiculous you look with it."
Jeongin’s grin widened, and he leaned forward to take the ribbon from your hand. "Fine, I’ll humor you. But just so you know," he said as he carefully wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, making sure it was tied perfectly. "I’m not just doing this for you. It’s a chance for me to show off my gains."
You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic tone. "I can see that," you teased, playfully eyeing him as he flexed again to show off the ribbon. "Are you going to wear it like this all day, or do I have to deal with the gym bro attitude the whole time?"
He turned to face you, flexing his arm dramatically, showing off the ribbon now adorning his bicep. "You think this is a one-time thing?" he asked, clearly enjoying how ridiculous and charming he looked. "I’m about to start a new trend. Who wouldn’t want to wear a ribbon with these muscles?"
You rolled your eyes again, though there was a smile on your face. "You’re such a show-off," you said, leaning over to adjust the ribbon just slightly, your fingers grazing his skin. "But you look good, I’ll admit it."
Jeongin puffed his chest out even more, giving you a proud look. "Of course I do. You’re welcome," he said, his voice oozing confidence. "You’re lucky I’m letting you see all this muscle right now."
You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I’m lucky, huh?" you said with a playful smirk. "I’m the one who gets to see you all flexing over a ribbon, looking like a total goofball."
Jeongin just laughed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. "Anything to make you smile," he said, softening a little despite the cocky attitude.
You snuggled into him, smiling. "I think you’re cute no matter what," you said, enjoying the warmth of his arm around you. "But this just makes you even more ridiculous, and I love it."
Jeongin grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I’ll take that as a compliment," he said, his voice softening despite his earlier boastfulness.
asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!
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willowed-wisp · 4 hours ago
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GHOST AS A DAD [ simon riley ]
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- Never wanted kids, he was so careful not to get you pregnant but with the amount you guys fuck, it was bound to happen.
- You’re scared when you get that positive test… you cry out of fear that you’ll have to get rid of the thing you had always wanted.
- It took you a week to gain the courage to tell him, you just left the pregnancy test on the kitchen table and left for work. You wanted to let him sit with it for a few hours.
- When you did return home, he sat on the sofa- elbows to knees looking down at the test. How long had he been like that?
- You waited for him to speak, while you shuffled around with that nauseous feeling bubbling in your stomach.
- It was late in the afternoon so you started chopping some vegetables for dinner, “I’ll call the termination clinic in the morning…” Your voice mulled over the slices weighing down on the wooden chopping board.
- Fingers crawled along your waistband as he rested against the sink. “No. You’re not.” You rested the knife down.
- “I thought you didn’t want kids…?” Your eyes on the verge of tearing, looking back at him. Your cool, mysterious man… finding purchase in those deep dark eyes.
- His bare hands wrapped around you- resting under your shirt. “I can’t put you through tha’,” His light hair tickled while his chin rested on your shoulder, “You’re the only person I’d wanna do this with.”
- He was there for the first and second of your pregnancy. Simon held your hair back while you threw up almost every day and he rubbed your back.
- Simon is very careful when having sex with you, but he soon realised that you feel everything 10x as much. And your sex drive is through the roof, he’s never been so needy in his entire life… you were so desperate for him and he wanted you just as much.
- Simon gets deployed during your 7th month. He doesn’t want to go… nearly refuses. Unfortunately he can’t do that.
- You’re stressed after he leaves. But his family takes care of you- he asked for them to.
- When he lands back on British soil, he immediately phones you. You pick up, and the cry of a baby is all he hears before he drops the phone and falls to his knees.
- He’s crying, actually in tears. “Is Y/N alright, LT?” Of course Soap was the one to see him like that.
- Simon nods, laughing, “I’m a dad…”
- He’s never driven so fast in his life, and you’re there on the sofa he had been 8 months ago with that test in his hand. This time you cradle a little human in your arms, swaddled like a bundle.
- He drops to his knees once more, ripping his mask off. And your warmth covers him with the little sighs coming from the now awake baby.
- Simon fell in love. He didn’t know if he was looking at a son or a daughter.
- You two didn’t want to know the gender.
- “Simon Riley… meet your daughter…” He melted again, face red and brown eyes bloodshot as he cradled the little one in his arms. Dotting into the identical eyes staring up at him.
- That’s when he held her close, head against his chest. “My little princess…” He hummed so gentle, rocking her slightly.
- He is so girl dad coded. He’ll be so sweet with her and she’d always come to her dad if anything was wrong
- Your little girl would play with his masks all the time, it never annoyed him- only making him giggle. Telling her to stop so playfully and boyishly, that you’d never seen him so soft-hearted before.
- You most likely have at most two more children after your daughter- maybe one girl and a boy.
- Simon definitely teaches your children self defence from a young age. Safety was everything and he wasn’t always around to protect them.
- He’s there every award ceremony he’s on leave and is the most doting father ever.
- Your children’s friends are terrified of him, until they get him talking- then they’re like ‘your dad’s cool.’
Did you want a part 2 of this?
———
masterlist
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endereies · 3 days ago
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TAKE A SICK DAY - CS
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No Nut November - Day 22
NNN Masterlist...
-➤ Chris looks after you when you are sick
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Begrudgingly, you listened to Chris. The last week had you coughing and borderline throwing up most mornings. You felt every cell in your body vibrate as you moved, causing feelings on your body to linger. Chris knew something was wrong when your headaches started to last longer than usual. Medication didn’t make it go away.  
So, against your will, Chris called in sick to your job while you were asleep and turned off your alarms. The previous night, you had gotten worse, throwing up at 4 in the morning. You didn’t ‘wake’ him up to assist you, he did that himself. It was as if he could tell you were no longer beside him. 
You were stubborn and never took sick days unless it was an emergency. But after seeing you deny how you feel, he needed to step in. 
“Baby..? What time is it?” the light had begun to seep in the windows and as you sat on your elbows, your head pulsed. 
“it’s noon. And you’re staying where you are.” You immediately jolted up once you heard the time, being forced awake by his voice. 
“What! Chris, I have work!” He placed his grip on your shoulders, pushing you back with ease. “I’ve called in sick, I heard you throwing up your guts last night. You have been ill for over a week, please...take a sick day and take care of yourself.” 
You looked down at yourself, trying to convince yourself that you were fine. That was until the coughing started again. The chesty cough making your head pulse harder said all it needed to.  
“Fine.”  
He smiled gently and leant over to open a drawer, pulling out some medication and a bottle of water. “Here, you have that, I’ll get some food ordered. What do you want, baby?” 
You pondered while you took down the medication in one go, leaning towards a few options. “anything?”  
“Obviously, anything you want, I’ll get for you.” He brought uber eats up on his phone and handed it to you, giving you free will to choose. A few shops had what you had been craving and eventually you added Chicken Alfredo to the order. You had been craving the creamy pasta for two weeks and when you finally bought the ingredients, you fell ill, having no energy to make it. 
“Chicken Alfredo? No soup or anything?” A small nod answered his question. 
“I’ve been craving that for too long to pass it up.” He chuckled, placing his own order in before placing his phone by his side. 
“C’mere baby” His arms were held open, a perfect gap by his side for your body to lie in. Slowly, you grabbed your water and shuffled towards him, his body feeling like a hot water bottle in comparison to yourself. His arm rubbed up and down your back, tracing soothing patterns across your spine. You weren’t going to admit it, but this is what you had been craving the last few days. A soft sigh past your lips as you nuzzled further into his chest. 
You felt the vibrations of his laugh and the tilt of his body as he leant down to kiss your cheek. “Chris...I’m sick, you’re gonna get ill too..” 
“Baby. You’ve been ill the last week, I’ve been doing this while you sleep anyway, does it look like I give a fuck?” His lips then fell to yours, silencing any protests you had. 
“Just rest now..” 
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maybankswhore · 15 hours ago
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WANNA BE YOURS ’ JJ MAYBANK.
summary: jj’s been avoiding you after your break up with john b , but not for the reason you think.
request from prompt list: “i can’t stay away from you.”
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When you think back to your relationship with John B , you aren’t sure when it stopped being meaningful.
Of course the relationship had its moments. The ones that you could look back on and smile , cherish the memory. But it was different. Because you didn’t look back on those memories and feel sad. You didn’t cry that they were fleeting. You didn’t miss it.
It was more of a grateful feeling. A feeling of fulfillment and enjoyment. But not sad.
In the end , the both of you felt it. That connection wasn’t there. The relationship wasn’t growing. You weren’t falling in love with eachother , more so , falling into a friendship that the both of you were scared to let go.
He had become your person and vice versa. The comfort the both of you had gotten from eachother , how honest and vunerable the two of you were able to be was something special.
But the relationship ran its course and John B admitted that he had started developing feelings for Sarah Cameron.
You weren’t mad at him or upset. He cried , feeling ashamed and scared of what it meant: you held his hand , brushed his face and encouraged him to explore it.
Breaking the news to your friends were the hardest part. Pope and Kiara were all knowing , especially Pope who you had confided in once before. They were supportive , and promised that nothing would change in the Pogue’s dynamic.
JJ on the other hand , he looked like a deer in headlights. He fidgeted alot , kept glancing up at you to study your face. JJ could tell that you didn’t look upset and he wasn’t sure what that meant. He wanted to yell at John B , push him and curse him for taking something as beautiful as you for granted.
But he couldn’t.
In fact , he couldn’t even face you.
JJ had always been taken with you. Since the moment he met you on the beach , everything about you just left him speechless. He though you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he remembered how he gushed to Pope about you , ranting and raving about the girl he met.
Imagine his surprise when you showed up at the Chateau two days later next to John B— grinning up at him with stars in your eyes. He was deflated. Hurt. But he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for not making a move that night.
For two years he watched you and John B be together. And in those two years he had gotten to know you. All of you. That didn’t help. He thought the feelings he had for you would disappear. Girl after girl came into his life until he realized , he looked for you in every girl he met.
Although it was hard for him and it hurt him to slowly fall in love with you while you were seemingly falling in love for his bestfriend , it was easier for him to accept the fact you were off limits because you were taken by said bestfriend. Now that you were single , free and John B was running off with the Kook Princess , JJ wasn’t confident that he could just. . . not make a move , not confess everything he had pent up all these years.
But God , did he love you.
JJ had made it a point to avoid you. Any time he saw you at the Wreck , he ducked and hoped you hadn’t seen him. When you were invited to the Chateau or to the marsh , JJ always found some excuse to give so he wouldn’t be there. So he wouldn’t have to see you.
It was killing him on the inside. He was itching to see you again. To finally touch you , feel you , be yours. But he was afraid. Afraid of rejection , how it would to his friends , how John B would feel especially.
It was too messy and he couldn’t do it.
He couldn’t.
Eventually you had noticed JJ’s sudden change in behavior.
“Is it just me or does he like , suddenly hate me?” You mentioned to Kiara while the two of you sunbathed , JJ affectively avoiding you by staying in the water.
Kiara scoffed. “I wouldn’t say hate.”
You were confused by what she meant.
But days turned into weeks , and you couldn’t take it anymore. You missed him. It made you feel like he blamed you for the break up with John B or he resented you for whatever reason.
Your knuckles rapped on the door to his room where you knew he was staying in John B’s hallway. The other Pogue’s went surfing and told you JJ wasn’t coming because he was sick.
You finally had enough.
“JJ freaking Maybank! I know you’re in there so open up the damn door.” You yelled through the wood loudly , a fixated look on your face.
Nobody answered and you continued knocking on the door. “JJ! What the hell is your problem with me?” Your voice was just as loud. But after minutes of silence , you stopped knocking. Suddenly you felt all of your anger disappear. You felt small , and for some reason your chest began to hurt.
“JJ. . .” the anger was all gone , now your voice was soft and sad. Cracking at the end of his name. “Why won’t you talk to me?”
As if JJ’s own heart broke at the sound of your voice , he sighed heavily and got up from his place on the bed. The door flung open and in front of you stood a disheveled JJ. His hair was a mess , there were bags under his eyes and you could tell he had been crying. “I can’t stay away from you—”
“Really? Because it seems like that’s all you’ve been doing these past couple weeks is staying away from me.”
“I can’t stay away from you but I have to.” JJ finished his sentence. Scratching the back of his neck , he refused to meet your eyes. “I just need some time.”
You blinked confused. Your heart squeezing. “Are you mad at me? What did I do? Is this about John B?”
JJ groaned. “This isn’t about John B! Nothing about this is about John B right now.”
He snapped at you and it took you aback. Your eyes widened , not expecting that from him. It made you frown and you took a step closer to him. “JJ please. . . tell me what’s going on.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I just— because I can’t.”
“You can’t or you won’t?”
“I love you.” JJ blurted. Now he was fully looking at you. “Okay? I love you. Not in the friend way. Not in a Pogue way. The in love with you way—” JJ suddenly felt the world lift off of his shoulders. It all started coming out like word vomit and he couldn’t stop it , but he didn’t want to either. “I love the way your hair gets all knotted up in the saltwater and it takes you hours to comb it out. I love that you wake up every morning and eat the same exact breakfast and makes sure everyone else in the house eats before they leave. I love that you love the animals and you care about nature. I even like you stupid little romance books that I pretend I hate hearing about when secretly I wish we were in our own love story. . .” he took a deep breath.
“I’ve loved you since the moment I met you , sweetheart and I’m trying to make it go away but it’s not.”
You were stunned. It all hit you at once and you stared. Mouth agape , eyes wide , and your cheeks flushed pink. It was the sweetest confession you had ever gotten , and the way JJ looked at you like you were the only girl in the world only added to the butterflies now swarming in your stomach.
“Why did you—” you stuttered , trying to figure out the words to say. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would it have changed anything?” JJ said defeated.
“It would have changed everything.” You admitted.
You weren’t sure what was going to happen now or how to navigate the news. Though you did know that something changed. It would forever be changed.
And you were okay with that.
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tortillamastersblog · 21 hours ago
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Back To You - Part 4 | Sam Carpenter
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Pairing: Sam Carpenter x reader
Warnings: mentions of violence, death, blood, injuries, and swearing
Summary: When Sam left after turning eighteen, you were devastated. You’d been in love with her since you were kids and her leaving meant you never got to tell her how you truly felt.
Fast forward a couple of years, Tara gets attacked and Sam returns. . .
Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist
_______________________________________________
Present
Billy Loomis is Sam’s real dad. . .
Tara’s words and her recount of her conversation with Sam makes all the puzzle pieces fall into place.
That’s why Sam snuck into my room all those years ago. That’s why she changed so much after, and that’s why she left.
It all makes sense now, but it doesn’t change the fact that she hurt Tara by leaving, hurt me by leaving. It also doesn’t change the fact that she wasn’t there for me when I needed her to most. When I begged her to come back and she just screamed at me to stop calling without even letting me explain why I was calling in the first place.
I’m feeling so many things right now, it’s kind of overwhelming, but I try my best to stay calm so I don’t freak Tara out.
She’s been moved to a private floor since Sam left and slept earlier while I called Liam and Paige again. Now, she’s awake once more, curled into my side while we’re watching a movie together.
I really try to focus on what’s going on, but my mind keeps drifting back to Sam.
She could have talked to me! She could have told me about her real dad. Why didn’t she? Did she think I was going to hate her for it? Did she think I would stop being her friend if I knew?
I wouldn’t have done any of that. Who her father is doesn’t change who she is. At least that’s my opinion. She must think otherwise, because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t have left.
I’m mad at her for abandoning Tara and leaving me. I’m sad she felt like she couldn’t talk to me, and I’m heartbroken thinking about how she tried to numb her pain by doing every drug imaginable and sleeping with anyone who would have her.
I still love her, that’s for sure because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be feeling like this, but I’m just not sure love is enough for me to forgive and forget everything she’s done.
“Hey.” Tara’s voice and her finger poking my chin snaps me out of my thoughts.
I clear my throat quietly and look down at her. “Yeah?”
“You okay?” she asks, her kind brown eyes darting between my own.
“No, not really, Sprout.” Tara wrinkles her nose and I chuckle. She’s never liked that nickname. “But I will be, and so will you.“
“You sure?” she asks and I nod.
“I’m sure. Now watch the movie, or I’m changing it,” I tease, making her laugh softly.
“Okay, okay. . .” She looks me over one last time before turning her attention back to the movie, mumbling, “You’re so annoying.”
I just hum and scratch her head, settling deeper into the bed and actually focusing on the movie. Thoughts of Sam are still swirling around in the back of my mind, but I ignore them as best as I can.
About half an hour later, the movie is still playing and, much to my surprise, I’m actually invested in the story now.
Some shuffling and a grunt in the hallway outside makes me look away from the TV though. We’re on a private floor and no one but Deputy Vinson should be here. A nurse comes in every two hours or so to check on Tara, but she was just here before we started the movie.
Alarm bells almost instantly go off in the back of my head, but I don’t want to scare Tara, so I stay calm and shout, “Hello?”
There’s no answer.
“Vinson?”
Again, nothing.
My stomach drops. This is not good. This is not good, at all.
“Y/N?” Tara whispers fearfully, the beeping sound of her heart rate monitor next to the bed speeding up.
I swallow thickly and continue to stare at the open doorway, straining my ears to hear anything else. It stays quiet though, and with every second that passes, the uneasiness in the pit of my stomach grows.
“Y/N,” Tara whimpers and when our eyes meet I see the fear I’m feeling inside reflected back at me.
He’s back. It’s Ghostface. It has to be him. He’s returned to finish the job.
I can feel my own heart rate picking up speed, and after another beat of silence, I decide that we have to leave. We’re sitting ducks if we stay.
“Fuck this.” I swallow again and nod to myself before pushing the blanket to the bottom of the bed. “We’re leaving, Sprout.”
Tara’s eyes widen and she doesn’t protest when I disconnect the IV from the back of her hand. For a moment, she’s frozen, watching me disconnect her from all the machines she’s attached to, before springing into action herself.
With shaking hands, she removes the oxygen tube while I get up and pull the nearby wheelchair to the side of the bed.
I won’t be able to do anything with only one arm, so even though it hurts and I know I’m probably going to tear my stitches, I take off my sling.
I wince at the stinging pain that shoots through my neck and arm, but grit my teeth and help Tara with the rest of the wires. Then I make sure the wheelchair’s breaks are on before turning back to the bed.
“We have to get moving, c’mon. I know this is going to hurt, but we have to go,” I say, slipping my arms under Tara’s knees and under her back. I don’t lift her yet though, waiting for her to nod before hoisting her up.
The gasp she lets out makes me hurt for her, but I can’t stop now.
We have to leave.
Carefully, I lift her out of the bed and place her in the wheelchair, making sure I don’t bump her broken leg against anything.
My shoulder protests, screaming in pain even though Tara is easy to lift, but I don’t stop moving especially when the lights suddenly go out.
We have to leave, now!
Tara whimpers in fear and in pain, and I rush to turn off the breaks on the wheelchair before pushing her to the doorway.
He’s here. I know it.
I peek into the ominously dark hallway all while trying not to let panic take over my mind.
Fear is healthy, panic is deadly.
That’s what my father taught me, and I know if we’re going to get out of this alive, I have to keep a clear head.
The hallway is empty, and the only way out is by getting to the elevator at the end of the hallway, so I slowly push Tara out of the room, keeping my eyes and ears open for any movement near by.
Just get to the elevator.
The deafening sound of Tara’s phone ringing on the bedside table back in her room makes both of us jump for a moment.
Tara sobs quietly, and I tighten my grip on the wheelchair.
I glance over my shoulder, seeing the screen of the phone light up the room before turning back around. There’s no time to get it now, and even less time to answer it.
I push Tara into the hallway, slowly and quietly while letting my eyes dart around in the darkness for any sign of danger.
It still eerily quiet though and I don’t see anything, so I continue pushing her until we get to the nurses’ station.
That’s where a chocked gasp claws it’s way out of Tara and when I follow her line of sight, I freeze for a second.
Laying right there on his back on the ground, with a slit throat and a pool of blood around his head is one of the deputies Sheriff Hicks assigned to Tara’s floor. He’s still alive, even though only barely, and chokes on his own blood, his wide eyes staring unblinkingly at the ceiling.
There’s nothing we can do to help him, he’ll be dead within a minute, but still, the sight of him, so helpless and alone, makes the blood in my veins freeze.
That could be me, or worse, Tara.
Stop! Don’t think about that, Y/N. Focus.
My dad’s voice rings in my head and makes me snap out of it. He’s right, I have to focus.
I’m about to continue pushing Tara towards the elevator, but then a thought strikes me.
I pause and look around again before letting go of the wheelchair and crouching down next to the deputy. I reach for his belt, fumbling around until my hand grazes the holster of his gun.
With a gun, we’d at least stand a change against Ghostface, but as fate would have it, the holster is empty. The gun is gone.
Fuck.
Not only does that mean that we have nothing to defend ourselves with, it also means that Ghostface has the gun.
Tara sobs into her hands and watches me get back up, only to flinch and freeze a second later when we hear a door being opened somewhere down the hall.
There’s no time to ponder over the gun and its whereabouts now. I spin around and take a hold of the wheelchair again.
Getting to the elevator now is too risky. It’s too far away, so I wheel Tara into the room right next to the nurses’ station.
We need help.
Tara whimpers and cries quietly while I close the door behind us. I don’t shut it all the way, just enough to hide us from plain sight while still being able to see what’s going on outside. Then, I fumble around for my phone in my sweatpants.
Just like with the gun though, I come up empty, and the realization that it must have slipped out of my pocket while watching the movie makes my heart drop.
No, no, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.
My hands begin shaking, and it’s getting harder to keep my panic at bay.
We’re alone with a psychopathic killer, we have no way out, no help is coming, and I’m not in any shape to fight properly.
Tears well up in my eyes and I feel my bottom lip quivering. There’s no way out.
My heart starts pounding in my ears and my hands start shaking.
Please, no. Not now.
I’ve had enough panic attacks after my parents death to know what it feels like when one is about to start, and even though it sucks having them at any time, it would be especially inconvenient right now.
I force myself to calm my breaths and blink away the tears, but it doesn’t help much.
We’re trapped.
We’re alone.
I continue to focus on steadying my breathing while also keeping an ear out for any more sounds in the hallway.
That is until Tara nudges me. I clench and unclench my fists, and look at her. She has tears streaming down her face, but she’s urgently gesturing at something she can’t reach.
I follow the length of her arm with my eyes and almost start crying with relief when I spot the phone on the wall right next to the door.
I lunge for it and start dialing 911 with shaking hands only to stop a moment later when another door opens out in the hallway.
Tara clutches the back of my sweater with her uninjured hand and bites her bottom lip to prevent any more sobs from escaping her.
I flinch when another door gets opened, this time closer by, and hold my breath.
This is it. He’s here.
I lower the phone and square my shoulders, ready to fight when the door to our room suddenly swings open.
Tara yelps and I instinctively punch whoever just walked in.
“Ow!” Richie stumbles back against the doorframe and raises a hand to where my fist just connected with his jaw. “Ah, goddamn it!”
“Richie?” Tara’s pulls on the back of my sweater to get me to step out of her line of sight while I simply stare at Richie in disbelief.
I’m honestly relieved it’s just him, and that he’s here because now we’re no longer alone, but I can’t find it in myself to feel sorry for punching him.
“What are you doing here?” Tara asks as Richie continues to recover from the punch.
“Sam called,” he explains and as he continues to talk, I feel some of the tension in my body dissipate. “She said that you were in trouble.”
He doesn’t look at me when he says it, and the revelation that Sam probably only called about Tara is like a blow to the stomach.
I don’t get much time to dwell on it though because a split second later, Ghosface appears behind Richie, ready to strike with a knife in his hand.
“Look out!” I shout, stepping in front of Tara again.
Richie spins just in time to avoid getting stabbed, but the knife manages to cut his forearm. Ghostface goes in for another stab, but Richie manages to catch his wrist before he can bring the knife down on him.
He grunts and they struggle for a moment, but then Ghostface manages to grab the back of Richies head and slam him into the door frame, knocking him out.
“Shit!” I clench my jaw when Ghostface turns his attention to Tara and me, and quickly grab the IV stand next to us, flinging it at him.
Ghostface goes down because the monitor on the IV stand hits him in the head, and I rush to wheel Tara out of the room.
We’re almost back in the hallway, away from Ghostface, when he suddenly lands a punch on the back of my left knee, making my leg buckle. I stumble and manage to regain my footing without going down, but that little trip costs me a lot of precious seconds.
“Y/N!” Tara twists around in the wheelchair with wide eyes and even though I know Ghostface is now back on his feet and right behind me, it still catches me off guard when he wraps his arm around my neck from behind and punches me in the side, right below my ribs.
“Ah, fuck!” I grunt and grab his forearm, trying to pry it away from my neck, but it doesn’t budge. “Go, Tara!”
Another blow, this time to my ribs, takes my breath away, and even though I’m in pain, it fills me with an unexplainable rage.
Instead of trying to get his arm away from my neck again, I dig my heels into the ground and push backward until we hit a wall. Ghostface hisses in pain and I use the momentary distraction to get out of the headlock.
Then, I run to Tara, limping slightly and ignoring the sound of a phone ringing nearby. She’s crying and struggling to move in the wheelchair, and the sight of the blood soaked bandage around her hand makes my stomach clench.
I’m about to reach her, my arms already outstretched to grab onto the wheelchair, but then I’m tackled to the ground from behind.
My head hits the floor, making black dots dance in my vision for a moment and then my head is yanked up by my hair.
“Hold it right there, Tara,” Ghostface says, the voice changer eerily distorting his voice, “or I’ll slit Y/N’s throat.”
Tara freezes and wheels around in time to see Ghostface press the blade of his knife against my neck. He’s kneeling on my back and I know I have no way of escaping without getting my throat slit.
It stings when he pushes the knife down a little too hard, drawing some blood in the process, but I don’t dare to move.
“Y/N!” Tara cries and I try not to cough because of the weight on my back. “No, please don’t.“
“Tara, go!” I rasp, feeling the edge of the knife dig even deeper into the skin of my neck.
Tara shakes he head desperately, tears rolling down her cheeks. “No, Y/N, I—“
“Do you hear that, Sam?” Ghostface says and at the mention of Sam’s name my heart drops. He must be on the phone with her. “Your little sister and Y/N, begging for each other’s lives. Pathetic, don’t you think?”
Tara makes a move to wheel closer, but I pin her down with a stare to stop her. Go, I mouth, but Tara doesn’t move while Ghostface continues talking to Sam.
I can’t hear everything he’s saying because my ears are ringing, but when he suddenly gets off my back and approaches Tara with calculated steps, I hear him say, “So, the choice is up to you. Who is it going to be, Sam? Richie, Y/N, or Tara?”
Tara whimpers as Ghostface gets nearer, but she’s too injured to get away. She manages to turn the wheelchair around, but Ghostface is right there before she can even attempt to get away.
He grabs the handles of the chair and tips it forward forcefully, making Tara fall and land on the ground with a cry of pain.
No, not her. Not Tara. Please, anyone but her. She’s been through enough.
“Stop!” I groan, trying to get up, but slipping on something sticky on the floor. My shoulder stings and the side where Ghostface punched me burns, but I try to get back up again, and this time, I manage. On unsteady feet, I limp toward Ghostface who’s now standing over Tara.
He twirls the knife in his hand and raises his arm, getting ready to strike while Tara sobs.
“No!” I’m not going to make it. “Tara!”
Just then, the elevator dings and the doors open. Ghostface looks up, surprised, and dives out of the way when gunshots ring out.
My eyes widen at the sight of Sam and Dewey?! who dart out of the elevator.
“Tara!” Sam rushes to her sister’s side and drops to her knees, trying to help her to her feet.
“I’ll get Richie,” Dewey says, but then he freezes when his eyes land on me. “Y/N?! What are you doing here? Are you hurt?”
I wave him off and shake my head, looking around to see where Ghostface went. “Not now, I’m fine. Go get Richie, I’ll help Sam with Tara.”
“Okay.” Dewey nods and stares at me a moment longer before dashing past me to help Richie.
The last time we saw each other was at my parents’ funeral. He used to be like an uncle to me because he was friends with my dad, but after the accident, we kind of drifted apart.
Now is no time to dwell on the past though. I push through my dizziness and the pain in my side, shoulder and leg, and limp the rest of the way to Tara and Sam.
Sam’s already managed to get a crying and whimpering Tara to her feet, but Tara can’t walk with her broken leg, so as soon as I’m within reach I tug on Sam’s jacket to get her to stop dragging Tara to the elevator.
“Stop, let me help.”
Sam’s eyes widen. “Y/N, y-you’re here?”
“Of course, I’m here,” I snap, not because I’m mad but because there’s no time to talk. “Now, let’s get a move on!”
Still in disbelief, Sam doesn’t say anything else as I scoop Tara up into my arms.
“Ow,” she whines and I quickly apologize for hurting her.
I limp to the elevator with Sam hot on my heels and lean against the wall as soon as we’re inside. My legs are shaking and my entire body hurts, but I’m not letting go of Tara until we’re safe.
Sam holds the doors open while Richie and Dewey make their way to the elevator.
They’ve almost made it when, out of nowhere, Ghostface comes back, crashing into them from the side. Richie falls to the ground, and Dewey gets pushed against the wall which makes him fire his gun.
A struggle ensues between Dewey and Ghostface while Richie tries to get back up, and for a moment it looks as though Ghostface’s got the upper hand, but then Dewey headbutts him.
Ghostface stumbles back and Dewey grabs his gun off the ground, firing it at Ghostface before he can come at him again.
He stumbles back at the force of the shots hitting him in the chest until he crashes into the glass display cabinet on the opposite wall.
He sinks to the ground and stops moving, and even though I’m not convinced he’s dead, there’s no time to make sure he is. We have to get out of here as fast as possible.
Dewey must think so too because he gets to his feet and immediately pulls Richie up as well.
“Let’s get out of here,” he grunts, dragging Richie toward the elevator. “Come on, hurry up.”
They finally make it, and Richie slumps against the wall next to Sam who runs her hands over him and checks for any not-so obvious injuries.
“You okay?” she asks, her voice laced with worry.
Richie nods and exhales shakily. “Yeah, you?”
Sam nods. “Fine.” Then she turns her attention back to Tara who’s got her arms wrapped around my neck and is crying into my shoulder.
“It hurts, Sam,” she cries, and I press a kiss to her forehead while Sam takes a hold of her hand.
Dewey pushes the elevator button for the first floor, but before the doors can slide shut, he stops them with his hand and says, “The head. . .”
Richie frowns. “What?”
“You have to shoot ‘em in the head or they always come back,” Dewey explains, stepping back out of the elevator.
Sam gapes at him and asks exactly what I’m thinking. “Dewey, who gives a fuck?”
A forlorn look enters his eyes and as the doors slide shut, he says, “I do.”
“No! Dewey!” I try to step forward to stop him, but as soon as I shift my weight off the wall, my legs start trembling, so I slump back and grit my teeth.
It’s too late.
The doors close and the elevator starts descending. A tense silence settles over us for the duration of the ride, but then the doors open and Richie stumbles out first, shouting for help.
Doctors and nurses swarm us almost instantly and within seconds, a gurney is brought over and I place Tara on it.
She’s okay.
Seeing her being taken care of lifts a huge weight off my shoulders and the relief on Sam’s face makes me smile a little.
She’s going to be okay.
The dizziness I felt before suddenly returns full force now that the adrenaline is wearing off, but I can’t sit down and rest until Dewey is safe, too.
He’s up there all alone. Someone has to help him.
I stumble back to the elevator but a hand on my stomach stops me from entering it.
I look down, swaying slightly, before following the arm connect to the hand all the way up with my eyes until they land on Sam’s face.
Wait. . . Sam?
“Where are you going, Y/N?” she asks, frowning.
I blink to get rid of the irritating black dots growing in my vision and try to push past her. “D-Dewey, he needs—he needs help, Sam.”
“I know,” she says, stopping me again by grabbing a fistful of my sweater. “But you can’t go up there. The police are already on their way.”
“But. . . But Dewey,” I slur. I grasp at Sam’s hand to get her to let go of me which, much to my surprise, she actually does.
It doesn’t last long though because not even a second later my knees buckle and I fall forward, right into her arms.
“Y/N? Y/N!” Sam panics and grabs onto anything she can to stop both of us from toppling to the ground. “Oh my God, you’re hurt.”
I awkwardly slide down her body, bringing her down with me until we’re both on the floor and I’m gasping for air.
“Y/N, hey. . . Hey!” Sam grunts and manages to scramble out from underneath me before propping me up against the wall next to us. “Look at me. What’s wrong? What hurts?” she asks, but I can’t answer. My lungs suddenly feel like they’re on fire and every breath I take makes it harder to breathe.
“What happened? Did Ghostface—“ She falls silent when her eyes land on her hands and when I look down, I see why.
They’re covered in blood. My blood. But. . . how?
I think about everything that happened, and then dread settles in the pit of my stomach when the realization hits.
Ghostface wasn’t punching me. When he “hit” me all those times, he wasn’t punching me. He wasn’t punching me at all. He was stabbing me.
Welp, that explains why my side hurts so much. I thought I was going soft.
My eyes flutter shut and I cough, tasting blood in my mouth.
I guess no one noticed I was hurt until now because I didn’t feel anything until the adrenaline wore off and the blood soaking my clothes wasn’t visible because both my sweater and my sweatpants are black.
“Y/N, hey! Don’t you dare close your eyes.” Sam cups my cheeks and shakes my head slightly to get me to open my eyes again. “We need some help over here!” she shouts over her shoulder before looking back at me.
She’s frantic, more frantic than I’ve ever seen her, and her eyes are filling with tears. Her hands drop off my face and she’s quick to push my sweater up to take in the extent of my injuries.
“Oh my God.” Her voice cracks and when she presses her hands against my side to slow the bleeding, I cry out in pain.
I gasp like a fish out of water, still struggling to get enough air into my lungs, and push at her hands.
“No, stop— Stop!” she protests, desperately pressing her hands against my side again.
“Hurts,” I wheeze and Sam nods frantically with tears dripping down her cheeks.
“I know, I know,” she says, “but I’m trying to help.”
I writhe in agony, but don’t try to push her off again. I don’t think I even could if I tried because with every passing moment I feel weaker.
My eyes are also threatening to close again and when Sam notices, she presses down harder on my side and shouts for help again.
This time, a nearby nurse notices and she springs into action. She rushes over, dragging a doctor with her and tells another nurse to bring a gurney.
I don’t focus on her though. No, I keep my attention on Sam and how she’s desperately try to stop my bleeding.
She’s crying, covered in blood, and on the verge of hyperventilating, but she’s still beautiful.
So beautiful. . .
I cough again just as the nurse and doctor drop down next to me, and when Sam takes her hands away so they can examine me, I give into the urge to close my eyes.
_______________________________________________
Whew! I wrote this in one sitting, and only proofread it once, so please excuse any mistakes I may have made/overlooked.
Tag list: @artrizzler19 @btay3115 @canyonyodeler @quadofthec @pussyydestroyer @bella423
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animeshotsh · 2 days ago
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In every universe? | JayVik x Kid!Reader
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Notes: ANGST - Timeline is messy as hell but i dont care - Fake with me that Jayce and Viktor finds Kid!reader earlier in terms on time - ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE - Character death - Grammar mistakes - S2 SPOILERS -
Alternative universe of this series
"But why do you have to stay mom?" A young voice asked Jayce who was mumbling while writing.
"Mom's has to work" Viktor softly said petting the youngest hair seeing as Jayce was too focus on the equations to even respond back.
"But, the lab at the Academy is bigger" You said again trying to understand why your dear parents have been working at home more and more.
"This is a sectet project Spark" Jayce responded turning to look at you, a soft tired smile on his face "And you must not tell anyone about it"
"Not even Heimerdinger ?"
"Specially not him" Jayce nodded to himself then to you and Viktor "I will pick you up from school and we can get some ice cream, deal?"
"Yes!!" You responded way too happy
"Alright, we must go if we dont want to be late, I have lectures to give" Viktor reminded both of you, passing you your bag and giving Jayce a kiss, "See you later"
"See you two later"
"Bye mom!!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The old beautiful house and lab was now a memory, a horrible explosion replaced it.
Two bodies were found, one from a girl from the old undercity and the other one was Jayce's body.
From that event the division between the cities started to shatter and a new one was born. The place was left untouched, like a memorial of the event that caused the union.
But that for Viktor and you was never enogught.
That day you stayed back at school, Jayce had no showed up so no one could get you. It was almost night time when Skyler did appear with a sour look, you were confused but went with her.
You ended more confused when she took you back to the Academy, a tired Heimerdinger went to you rubbing circles on your back.
Then you saw your dad, Viktor was sitting in front of a cold tea, his hands covering his face. When he hear the footsteps he looked up to see you.
His look, his golden eyes were reddish now, it was all you needed to understand that something terrible had happened.
He got you in a warm and almost possesive embrace, more cries could be hear from him as he hugged you and said multiple times how sorry he was.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Its that day again, right?" Powder asked you giving you a drink as you nodded
"Yeah...Dad is, well he is still working and going but this day just makes it all more difficult"
Powder nodded knowing it was the same for her and the rest.
"You know, it never leaves" She started, repeating what Vander had said all these years back "You just learn to live with it"
~~~~~~~~~
The visit to Jayce's gravestone never got easier, Viktor swear he path got longer each time and his leg pulled him back more and more.
"Dad?"
Your voice broke his toughts, obscure ideas once more, what if in another universe the three of you got to live? See the city change together? Make it a better place?
He knew he was playing with dangerous forces but....but he was sure he was close, close to open a gate to a different place, one where Jayce was still alive and with him, and you were with them, growing and being brillant.
"Im coming Spark" Viktor softly called, the vision of Jayce's gravestone was a reminder that no, not in this universe.
In this universe Jayce Talis was dead, and he was going crazy without him.
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yagirlwrites · 19 hours ago
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Make Me Proud | (Sub!Rafe)
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Pairing: sub!Rafe x domme!Reader
Synopsys: Rafe and Reader finally get to release their pent up tension from the Halloween party. He wants to earn his prize so they explore a new way of pleasure together.
Warnings: SMUT (18+), anal play (m receiving), oral (f receiving), fluff
Word Count: 6.4k
A/N: Hii!!! I know it took me a while but it's finally finished! I hope you enjoy this smutty goodnes and that it was worth the wait! Let me know what you think! I'm excited for them exploring more ways to give/receive pleasure!
Series Masterlist
My work is my own; it's not to be copied, transferred or translated. Reblogs, comments, feedback are always welcome and appreciated❤️
Happy reading🥰
Make Me Proud
The harsh rays of sun pricked at his eyelids forcing him to awaken against his will, letting out a pained groan. Blinking his eyes open he slowly begun to gather his bearings and the first thing he noticed was the emptiness of the bed next to him.
There was a low pang in his chest at her absence. The second thing he noticed was the pounding in his head, no doubt attributed to the hangover bound to ruin his day. He made such a huge mistake downing all those shots last night. As the memories started flooding back he became aware of just how much of a fool he'd made of himself. In front of her, to make shit ten times worse. Just as he was beginning to wonder if his behavior caused her to leave, the door slowly opened and he watched her tiptoe inside, unaware of his inner turmoil.
Once her eyes landed on his sprawled out figure she realized he was finally awake. Had she been up for several hours, bored out of her mind but not wanting to wake him? Maybe. Did she sneak into the kitchen to make them both a cup of coffee when she finally got sick of laying motionless next to him? Perhaps.
"Morning, sunshine." She smirked at his response, an unamused grunt. He was definitely feeling the aftermath of those drinks. She felt kinda bad for him but it was his own fault he was in this state.
"What time is it?" His morning voice always got her tummy fluttering and today was no different. The ways in which this man drove her insane were unfathomable to her.
"Nine. I thought you'd sleep longer. The house is still dead." She made her way back to bed, giving him a generous view of her bare thighs as she shuffled in next to him. He barely noticed the coffee cup right in front of his face, too distracted by how soft and sexy her legs looked and how she still smelled so damn good even after a long night.
"Rafe..." her voice sounded half amused half exasperated, causing him to finally snap his attention back to her face and see the amused expression she bore. He blushed at being caught so blatantly ogling her, but he didn't try to play it off. There was no need to anyway, she knew just how attracted he was to her.
He took the cup with a small thank you, forcing himself into a somewhat upright position and downing half of it in one go. She scoffed out a laugh and rolled over to the bedside table to grab him a bottle of water she put there last night. Once she turned back she caught him staring at her ass, which had peeked out from under his shirt she was wearing. Raising her eyebrow at catching him, again, in under 2 minutes, he paid her back with a sheepish smile.
Those damn dimples always got to her. She was a sucker like that. He didn't need to know how quickly she got weak for him though, so she bit back her smile and decided to keep on a face of neutrality, knowing it drove him crazy when he couldn't tell what mood she was in.
"Are you hungry?" She casually posed the question while scrolling on her phone and he wished she'd just look at him instead. Pathetic. But hey, he was accepting it. She drove him insane every single day and he liked it.
"A little... The burger helped, though. Thanks." He gave her a cute smile almost causing her to break her act, but she perservered. He was just too fun to mess with, she couldn't help herself.
"You're welcome." She went back to her phone and he pouted. The throbbing in his head was making him more impatient than usual so he snapped and forced her into a bear hug, almost knocking the wind out of her.
"Rafe!" He laughed into her skin, enjoying the sound of her carefree giggle more than he thought possible.
"Get off!" Her words had no real bite to them, so he just pulled away slightly, just to look at her face.
"Thank you for taking care of me. And I'm sorry for getting drunk." He kissed her sweetly, almost making her lose her head completely. These moments of gentle affection always had both of their heads spiraling.
"You're lucky you're cute.." she sighed out a labourious breath and he laughed at the dramatics.
"I'm very lucky." He was looking at her with the most lovesick expression, she couldn't handle it. She had to break the moment before it broke her.
"Indeed. And quite desperate, based on all the begging you were doing last night." She was kinda mean for bringing that up. He was confused for all of 5 seconds before he realized what begging she was referring to. Once he did, his skin turned bright pink and the temperature of his body rose.
He had begged her to let him go down on her like a little bitch. Dear God, the embarrassment was about to eat him up, the blush not letting up for a moment.
She cracked a smile then, breaking the stoic act and he felt an immediate relief at that. He remembered what she'd told him - that he didn't need to be embarrassed about his desires. So he swallowed down his pride and awkwardness and decided to end this little game of hers. Instead of becoming sheepish he got serious.
"You still haven't told me how I can earn it." His words shook her. She was enjoying teasing him and then he flipped the switch. She could see the smirk begging to be let out at the corner of his lips, his eyes hungry and not hiding his arousal at all. She had a feeling that if she took the covers off he'd be packing a hard-on again. He was playing with fire.
"You really want to earn it?" Her eyes shifted and her domme voice returned. His skin was buzzing with excitement, hoping to finally get something out of her.
"Yes, ma'am." He smiled and she could feel her composure slipping away.
"Just wanna make you feel good." His voice dropped an octave and she could feel the dampness in her panties, the temperature in the room heating up.
"I feel good when I make you feel good, baby." Teasing, teasing, teasing. He knew she was playing him again. He swallowed, mouth feeling dry at the way she was looking at him.
"I want to taste you so bad." There it was. The honest response. She didn't want him pretending he was only interested in it for her benefit and now he was finally being truthful.
"Yeah?" She got on top of him, lips inches apart. His breath becoming her own as she stared deep into his eyes, testing his limits.
"Yes....please..." she kissed him then. A kiss so heated it could probably warm up an entire room. Little whines left his throat as she bit down on his lip, feeling his erection pressing into her ass. He was so gone.
"Please." It was a whisper, she barely heard it but she had. And boy did it have her losing her damn mind. The desperation he exhibited for her drove her wild. She had to pull away in order for both of them to catch their breaths again. God, was he testing her.
"I love the way you beg, baby." She whispered into his ear, leaving soft, wet kisses on his neck, causing him to groan... it was such a delicious torture.
"Fuck..." his whines got louder when she bit into that spot where his neck and shoulder meet, eyes rolling back. She was everything.
She had a whole scene in her mind then, clear as day. Trying to think of all the logistics was proving difficult when she was so damn turned on, causing her to pull away. He whined at the loss of contact, nearly shedding a tear. She'd built him up so high he didn't think he could survive her rejection now.
She took the water bottle and took a huge gulp, his lust filled eyes tracing her features, trying to figure out how to stop her from pulling away from him further. He thought he'd definitely cry if she did, too turned on to function. She tried getting up off of him, causing him to whine and wrap his hands around her, refusing to let her go. She nearly laughed seeing the desperation on his face, the sheer need to keep her there.
"Baby. Let go." He reluctantly loosened his grip, looking at her with big, sad eyes nearly breaking her heart.
"It's okay, sweet boy." She kissed his cheek and then shocked him by squirting water on his face. He gasped, looking at her in bewilderment. She couldn't help but laugh then.
"What..?" The confusion on his face made her laugh harder. She needed to cool them both down and this was the first thing she could think of. She can't have this conversation if she isn't thinking clearly.
"I'm sorry, I just needed you to snap out of it. Sorry, baby." She wiped the remaining water off his face. She kissed him again and pushed herself further away from him, so she can think.
"What the hell?" He was mumbling, still half in shock making her feel a bit guilty.
"Look if you're serious then we need to talk. I can't think when we're..." she drifted off then, causing him to realize what happened. She was having trouble controlling herself just as he was, so she did a silly thing to help herself think. He felt endeared, realizing that the moment had affected her just as strongly as it did him.
"Okay. Talk." He was nodding, sitting up, facing her, trying to ignore the painful boner she left him with.
"You want to be a good boy?" How was he supposed to stay calm when she says shit like that to him? Damn.
"Yes." He struggled to stay still, not to draw nearer, to feel her skin against him again. It was so hard.
"Remember when you said you were open to anal play?" Her words shook him to his core. She could see the shock in his eyes before he had a chance to mask it.
"Ye-yeah. I remember..." he wasn't sure where this was going anymore.
"Are you still? Or did you just say that cause you thought it's what I wanted to hear?" He was shaking his head before she even finished the question.
"No. I- I meant it. I want to try." She smiled at him then, a soft look on her face the polar opposite of how she looked just minutes ago.
"Yeah?" He nodded, urging her to believe him. He had no idea what she was planning but he wanted nothing more than to do whatever she wanted. Even if he was nervous.
"I want to be your good boy." His words nearly had her eyes roll back but she managed to control herself. He was so fucking hot when he gave himself to her completely.
"Okay. Well, we need to prepare, we can't do it now-"
"Why not?" The whine was louder and brattier than he intended causing her to cock a brow at him.
"Well for one I don't have lube here, and-"
"I do!" This took her by surprise. But he interrupted her twice now and that was not acceptable.
"Okay, that's good. But if you interrupt me one more time we're not having any sex at all in the forseeable future." Her voice was authoritative, making him feel embarrassed at how childish he was acting.
"I'm sorry." He looked it too, so she accepted it with a nod.
"Okay. Well, we still can't do it here. I'd like us to shower first and have privacy." She was listing things, looking so cute while she rationalized their sex life. It would have been comical if it weren't driving him insane.
He knew she didn't want to shower in his house, having offered her the option before and being met with a horrified look and a respectful decline. She claimed she liked his friends but she didn't trust their hygiene in the slightest, causing him to laugh and agree with her. He loved her shower though. He got to use her pretty smelling shampoo and he always felt extra clean and sated after showering at her apartment.
"Then lets go to your place." It was a no brainer to him. She thought of all the possible issues but given that her plans for his first time trying anal play were small, she figured it would be fine without all the usual prep. They'd build up to that eventually.
"Okay." He lit up like a christmas tree.
"Really?" She chuckled at his newfound enthusiasm.
"Yes, really. But if you change your mind at any point you need to tell me, okay?" He was nodding along quickly but she didn't forget the initial apprehension on his face and she'd be damned if she let him do something he isn't into to try and please her. Not on her watch.
They got dressed and packed up their stuff pretty quickly, the excitement in the air palpable. Some people finally started to wake up just as they were leaving the house, catching a few "screw you's" for running off before the clean up from last night began. They didn't care, too wrapped up in each other and the anticipation of what's to come to be bothered.
----------------------------
They picked up some sandwiches on the way back to her apartment, at her insistence. He was way too excited for what she had planned to think about food, but his stomach thanked her all the same when his hunger was sated.
They didn't waste any time taking their clothes off and getting in the shower. It was such a wonderful moment between them, soft and loving, he way they washed each other from all the sweat and grime from the night before. She handled him more delicately than anyone ever had in his life, and he always felt so damn safe and taken care of when she touched him like that. As the shower drew to an end, they shared some lingering, warm kisses, igniting the fire from earlier all over again in a slow burning flame.
Anticipation was killing him, driving him wild with every second that passed of them drying off and getting ready in her room. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, but it was nothing compared to how excited he felt. The trust he had in her was so complete, he knew he was always safe with her to explore these kinks without danger or judgement. He knew she'd never force him to do anything he wasn't willing to do, and that opened up the door for him to get braver and more comfortable with trying new things.
They were on her bed, still naked from the shower, not feeling any need to prolong the inevitable. She kissed him slow and deep, tongues meeting in a teasing dance, driving them both wild. The little sounds he let out were going straight to her core. She was so excited about this, she had a feeling he'd love the sensation of having his ass played with and it made her proud that he was trusting her in this sensitive moment.
"Tell me the colors again." She ordered, kissing his neck, winding him up further. She always insisted he reminds himself of the colors, so there was no chance of a miscommunication in the heat of the moment.
"Green, yellow, red. I know the drill." He quickly listed the colors, exasperated and so turned on he could barely breathe.
"Don't get sassy." She warned, still kissing his skin, over his collar bones and shoulders. She loved to kiss the freckles on his body, finding them so damn beautiful.
He was struggling to breathe, forcing deep breaths into his lungs, while she worked him over, touching and kissing everywhere. His skin was flushed, muscles taut with restraint. It felt so good, her touch, he wondered how he didn't melt right into a puddle every time her skin was on his.
She kept exploring him with her fingerips and lips, nibbling on a nipple, lightly scratching down his abs, amping him up, every nerve ending so sensitive. His cock was hard as a rock and she couldn't help but smirk at his twitching, trying so hard to be good and not do anything she didn't tell him to.
She completely ignored his erection, instead focusing on massaging his balls causing moans to leave his lips. She loved the sounds he made, could get high on them.
"That feel good, huh?" She teased, kissing his thighs while she slowly moved one hand lower, barely touching his sensitive hole. He gasped as soon as her fingers brushed him there, finally grasping just how close she was to opening him up in a whole new way.
She laid kisses on his skin as her fingers slowly massaged around his hole, causing him to groan at the teasing tempo. He needed more, she was driving him nuts.
She could tell he was getting antsy, face flushed and little, desperate whines leaving his swollen lips. She reached for the bottle of lube she'd prepared, cracking it open and squeezing a generous amount on her fingers. Rubbing her fingers to warm them up, she looked at him, holding his breath in preparation.
"What's your color, baby?" She spread his legs wide open for better access, leaving him completely exposed in front of her.
"Green." The answer was immediate, a deep longing in his voice. He kept his eyes on her, eager to see every movement she made.
"I'm gonna go slow, okay? Nothing crazy. I promise." He was nodding, impatient yet grateful for the reassurance.
"Okay. Just please do something." She smiled at his little whine and decided to put him out of his mysery.
Her fingers finally made contact with the sensitive skin around his hole, massaging slowly, warming him up, making sure to put a decent amount of lube on his entrance. The massage felt so good he couldn't imagine how it could get better.
She kissed his tummy as she slowly eased the tip of her finger into his tight hole, causing a desperate gasp to leave him. She kept a watchful eye on his face, paying attention to every expression, every breath, twitch and sound that left him. She kissed his skin as she kept massaging and lightly slipping her finger into him deeper, going slowly not to overwhelm him. She was so damn turned on at how good he was being, proud of how brave he was to let her have him like this and eager to make him see stars.
Once she'd slowly eased a finger about half way, she checked in.
"How does it feel, baby?" She rubbed his thighs in a soothing motion which calmed his mind.
"Weird. But kinda good?" It was his first time ever having anything in his ass and the sensation was strange but at the same time he wanted more. He needed to know how good it could feel, because he knew she wouldn't do this if it wasn't going to make him feel great.
"You're doing so good for me, sweet boy." He whined at the praise, blushing profusely at the intimate situation.
"Still green?" He nodded quickly making her chuckle and continue her ministrations.
"Fuck..." he moaned as her finger went deeper, touching that sensitive spot inside him, causing his mind to go completely blank as she kept going. She started moving in and out slowly, grazing that magic spot with each thrust. The way he was responding was so fucking beautiful. He was letting out sounds she hadn't heard before, the brand new pleasure making him delirious.
"You're so tight around my finger, baby." The dirty talk had him whining in desperation, wanting more, wanting her to take him however she liked. This was so different to anything he'd experienced before and he really fucking liked it.
"Taking me so good." She kept talking him thought it as she gained speed, lightly curling her finger each time she grazed that spot, having him curling his toes in pleasure, gasps and moans leaving him without his knowledge. He was so wrapped up in how nice it felt he couldn't think of anything else but her finger, her touch, her voice overwhelming his senses.
"More." He whined out the most deperate little moan she'd ever heard in her life, her panties getting soaked seeing him like this.
"More?" She questioned, picking up the pace as his moans got louder, his head nodding, words escaping him.
She wasn't expecting to do more than one finger for the first time but the way he was reacting, taking it so well, so eager, begging for more? Yeah, she was losing her fucking mind. It was the hottest thing she'd ever witnessed.
"Think you can take another finger, baby boy?" His response an immediate, moaned out "yes, please". She could see his eyes getting teary and she didn't waste another moment before squirting more lube on him and easing another finger into his tight hole.
He was a mess of moans, grunts, whines, pleas and tears as she stretched him out, giving him a new level of pleasure as both fingers pumped into him. It was heaven. He couldn't believe he'd waited this long to do this. Though he couldn't imagine ever doing this with anyone else. She was it for him, he knew it. She blew his mind every fucking time they had sex, she introduced him to highs he never even imagined.
Fuck, it felt so good to have her on top of him, fucking him with her fingers, claiming him as hers. He was getting closer and closer, cock twitching on his stomach, leaking precum, red and throbbing without even being touched. It was insane.
"You look so beatiful, baby. Taking me so well. I'm so proud of you." His tears flowed freely at her words, overwhelmed at the pleasure and praise she was giving him. It was fucking perfect.
"I'm cl- so close." She could barely make out his words from the choked moan they escaped in.
"Yeah? You wanna cum, baby?" He was trashing under her now, losing all semblance of control as she worked him to his peak.
"Please..." his whines making her pussy throb with arousal, she picked up the pace, eager to see him fall apart for her.
"Be a good boy and cum for me." As she said those words she finally gripped his cock, squeezing him as he fell off the edge and into the most intense orgasm he'd ever had.
She got high off his desperate noises, the way he twitched as he orgasmed, clenching around her fingers, cock pulsing in her hand as his cum painted his stomach. It was so fucking beautiful, she couldn't look away even if she tried.
"Look at you. So pretty." She kissed his skin as the last of his aftershocks wore off. Her words were driving him insane, after everything that just happened, being flustered at a compliment seemed surreal but there he was.
It was the most intense experience of his life. And he couldn't be more grateful that he had her to guide him through it. He felt so sensitive and thoroughly wiped out, but in the best way possible.
"How you feeling, baby?" She posed the question as she gently cleaned up the mess he made all over his stomach using a tissue. He looked flushed and sated and she couldn't be more ecstatic about what just occured.
"Good." He let out a chuckle, meeting her gaze, melting at the way she was looking at him. So fondly, he couldn't cope.
"You did so good, angel. I'm so proud of you." Her words had him shook, the praise and approval making his insides feel like mush. If his skin wasn't already red from the intense scene he'd just been through, the blush would have been fierce.
"Thank you..." his soft whisper made the butterflies reappear in her tummy. He looked so fucking beautiful she couldn't handle it.
She made her way up his body, leaving soft kisses all over his skin, warming him up with each one. She kissed his face next, the salty remnant of the tears he'd shed from pleasure being washed away with soft pecks. It was so tender and sweet he almost cried all over again.
When her lips met his, he felt as though his heart just might burst at how full and happy he was. He had never felt this happy in his whole fucking life. How did he get so lucky?
"Holy shit, baby. That was the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He giggled at her words, making the smile on her face seem permanent. So fucking cute she couldn't handle it, leading her to smother his face in kisses, causing those giggles to come out again. She was in trouble.
"Alright, baby. Gonna go clean up, be right back." She laid a final peck on his lips before making her way to the bathroom. He felt cold as soon as her touch left him and he wondered how the hell he could miss someone who's only a room away.
She took her time washing her hands, making sure they were clean enough to touch him again. She wanted to run her fingers over his face and it killed her that she had to refrain. She knew he was feeling exhausted but she had one more thing in mind before they could relax. She was excited and hoped he had enough energy to handle it.
When she made her way back to the room she found him sleepily looking at her. He had a cute little smile on and her heart skipped a beat. She climbed back on top of him, warming him up all over again, making him release a relieved sigh. He wondered how healthy it was for him to need to be with her all the time, but he didn't have it in him to care too much. Her touch, her comfort, her care was addicting and he wouldn't want to change it for the world.
She kissed him softly, drawing out a satisfied moan from him as their tongues met. She cupped his face as she kissed him, taking his breath away once again. He slowly reached up to hold her closer, feeling relief he wasn't used to, once they were skin to skin.
"You were such a good boy for me." She kissed the corner of his mouth, leaving him to struggle with responding at how good it felt and how much he loved when she called him that.
"You up for more, baby?" The kisses travelled over his neck and his heart started racing once he processed her words.
"More? I don't know if I can..." he was all whiny and shy, not wanting to disappoint her but not feeling ready for another intense experience. He thought he was done.
"No?" She kissed under his ear making his eyes roll to the back of his head. She was driving him insane.
"You don't want your reward?" He gasped as she lightly bit into his shoulder, feeling like he'd float away any second. But then he realized what she'd said.
"What? You- Wh-" he was trying to force her to look at him, pulling her face gently up to meet her eyes as he stumbled over his words.
"Reward?" He was looking at her with wide eyes, confusion on his face obvious. She simply sat up and cocked a brow, waiting for him to figure it out. It took a minute for his brain to catch up with him but once it did he thought he'd lost it.
"You- Are you serious?" He was practically begging her to say yes with the way he was looking at her. Like if she said no, his heart would shatter.
"Mhm. If you think you can handle it." She shrugged and had to hold back a laugh when he started furiously nodding his head.
"Yes! I can. Please. Green. Yes, please. Please please please..." he was blushing at his desperation but couldn't hold it back. The though of finally getting to taste her was making every nerve in his body buzz in excitement. He was on the precipice of heaven and he couldn't handle rejection now.
"You sure? You weren't too excited earlier..." his stomach dropped at her words.
"No! I mean, yes! I am so sure, please. I just thought you meant more... of what happened earlier." He was blushing profusely as he tried to get her to understand he was serious about being able to handle eating her out.
The way he was acting all shy and sheepish and desperate was really tugging at her heartstrings.
"You mean when you came around my fingers?" His blush got fiercer as he shyly nodded. He hated how much she loved to tease him when he's so wound up. But the smile on her face in that moment almost made up for it.
"I don't know, it seemed like you were enjoying it..." She kept teasing him, running her fingers over his stomach causing him to squirm with the light tickles. She was playing with him and he knew it.
"You know I was. I just can't do more of that right now... But I can make you feel good. Please?" He was trying to hard not to let his frustration seep through in his words. He needed to stay on her good side if he wanted a chance to finally taste her tonight. But the eagerness which he felt was making him extra antsy, itching for a chance to have her in this new way.
"Since you asked so nicely and you took my fingers so well..." The blush on his face had no chance of leaving when she kept talking like that.
"I'm gonna ride your face. You okay with that, baby?" He was practically shaking with excitement, nodding his head an eager yes.
"Yes, please..." his whine had her tummy stirring again and the wetness from earlier returned.
Rafe thought he would pass out as he watched her straddling his chest, being so close to her heat he could almost smell it. He couldn't wait anymore, all his fantasies were coming alive in that moment. He thought he'd never craved anything more than to have her on his tongue. He knew once he tasted her he'd be addicted and he didn't care. He was so fucking close.
"If you want to stop or talk or anything, tap my thigh. Okay?" He was struggling to find words when he could see how pretty her pussy was up close and she was playing with his hair just right. A harsh tug broke his daze as he looked up at her and finally answered.
"Yes. Please sit on my face." She almost laughed at his eagerness but refrained, taking in the adorable little pout he had on his face.
"Okay, baby." She positioned herself above him and he felt like he'd explode in the few seconds it took for her to lower herself on his face. And then she was and it was paradise. He couldn't imagine anything in existence could ever be better than this moment.
Her scent, her taste, it was so fucking addicting right off the bat. He wasted no time exploring her with his mouth, savouring the new position he was lucky to end up in. His hands made home on her ass, feeling the plump skin, massaging it as his tongue licked at her warmth. He wasn't even aware of the noises he was making as he ate her, too consumed in her pussy and bringing her pleasure to hear the moans and groans leaving him. However, she could not only hear him, but feel the vibrations on her skin, making the pleasure of his whines that much stronger. It felt amazing. He was so good with his mouth, she had no doubt he would be but it was a whole other thing actually experiencing it firsthand.
She started to slowly grind on him and his moans only got louder, his movements more eager. He fucking loved this, loved having her ride his face. He could cum just from this, he'd swear. His cock was already fully hard again but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the woman on top of him, chasing her pleasure, using him - while he devoured his favorite meal of all time. He'd never enjoy the taste of anything more than her. He was a goner.
Her grinds got more intense, pressing her clit on his nose just right, causing his brain to go haywire at the way she was using him. His cock was twitching on his stomach at how hot this was. Moans finally left her lips and it was the most glorious of sounds. He squeezed her ass, wishing he could stay like this for an eternity.
He slipped his tongue inside her cunt and nearly wept when he felt her walls clench around the muscle. It was dirty and heavenly all at once. She reached back to tease his nipples, urging him on. He slurped and sucked on her clit, making sure to cherish every little moan and breath and clench she let out. It was the most erotic thing he'd ever witnessed. He wished he could see the look on her face when she came.
She was close, surprising herself at how quickly he managed to get her there. She buried her hand into his hair, riding his face just a little harder, chasing her high. She had never been this vocal in bed. He always brought out new experiences for her as well.
"I'm close, baby." He groaned into her pussy, hands urging her to go faster, to reach her orgasm. It only took a few more grinds of her hips for her to let go.
Then it was her juices, her taste and smell and sounds overwhelming all his senses. He lapped up every drop greedily, not wanting this moment to end. Her thighs closed around his head for a second but it was enough to have him almost reaching the end himself. He wouldn't do that though. Not again. Not without permission. This was about her. And God, was she incredible.
As the last of her shakes left her, she quickly pulled off of him, lowering herself down on his chest, eagerly checking on him. Her hands met his cheeks, his skin wet from her release and a big cheeky smile on his face when she met his eyes. He was so fucking high off of her coming in his mouth. The sexiest thing he'd ever experienced in his life.
"Thank you." Those were the first words that left him after he brought her to one of the most intense orgasms of her life. She wanted to curse at how pretty he looked all fucked out. The cheeky grin and the sparkling eyes driving her insane.
She hadn't let many people eat her out before, always focusing more on their pleasure, finding the act a bit too intimate for her liking. But damn if it didn't feel right with him. She could feel herself getting all soft and mushy inside, hoping he can't tell just how fucking smitten she was with him. She kissed him to hide her burning cheeks from his view, distracting them both, tasting herself on his tongue, swallowing up his moans, making them hers.
"If you're gonna reward me like that every time, I'm happy to do anal stuff any day now." She laughed at his words, running her fingers over his face gently, taking in the lovely moment of peace and contentment.
"You're telling me if I didn't let you eat me out, you wouldn't want me to fuck your ass?" He blushed at her words, letting her know just how much they affected him.
"No. I'd want it anyway." He was being honest and vulnerable, just like they talked about and it was doing funny things to her head.
"Thought so." She pretended to be serious for a moment but then let her guard down when she kissed all over his face again. His laugh made butterflies soar in her tummy. Fuck, if she didn't love that sound.
"I'm really glad you enjoyed it." She knew he had been apprehensive about trying anal play and she was honoured he trusted her enough to explore it with her for the first time.
"It was the best orgasm of my life." She chuckled and he looked at her so fondly she couldn't handle it.
"Nothing compared to how amazing it was having you ride my face, though." His cheeky smirk was back but she could hear the truth in his voice. He really did love eating her out. And she figured she'd let him to it more often since it was just so much fucking fun.
"You're a cheeky bastard, you know that?" He nuzzled into her skin, enjoying the playful banter they always ended up back in.
"Mhm. You like me, though." He kissed her shoulder, holding her that much closer, their naked bodies tangled together in the most wonderful mess of limbs.
"Sadly, I do. A frat guy, no less." He snorted a cute laugh and she couldn't help but laugh too.
"Luckiest frat guy in the world." His voice was so soft and he looked at her so fondly her breath caught in her throat.
He unhinged her. Every time she thought she finally stood on solid ground he went and said something sweet like that, honest like that, and shook her world to the ground again. The feelings that were bubbling inside her were way too serious and way to soon for her to entertain. So she did what she always did and shut him up with another kiss.
-------------------------
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pedroscurls · 2 days ago
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you broke me first (one-shot)
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summary: logan comes running to you after yet another disappointment with jean, but he's hurt you for the last time and you can't do this dance with him any longer. pairing: xmen series!logan x fem!reader content warnings: angst, unspoken feelings (logan has his reasons), logan pining for jean, broken friendship, no use of y/n. word count: 1.2k a/n: ok, so forgive me in advanced lol, this is my first time writing xmen series!logan (and idk if i'm the only one, but i do not like the jean x logan ship - i didn't feel any chemistry between them in the movies). anyway, enjoy this! this song came to mind and immediately i thought of this version of logan and it seemed fitting. song: you broke me first by tate mcrae
“She doesn’t love you, Logan,” you tell him once again after he comes straight to your room after Jean had told him that she would never leave Scott for him. You could never understand the feelings he had for Jean, his relationship with her purely physical. 
And each time he tried to convince Jean that being with him would make her happier than she was with Scott, he was always left disappointed. 
And each time, he always came running to you. The one person who had always been there for him since he had come to the mansion all those years ago. 
“You don’t know that,” Logan says, brows furrowed and his usual scowl written on his features. 
“Why do you keep going back to her?” you ask quietly, looking down at your hands. “She hurts you every time, Logan.”
“She just doesn’t know what she wants.”
“Logan,” you sigh. “We both know that’s not true.”
“If she knew what she wanted, why do we keep sleeping with each other, then? Hm?” 
You feel your heart break at his words. The more time you spent with Logan, the more you realized just how deeply you felt for him. He had become your best friend, and had made you feel welcome in a house full of mutants. Charles had hired you as a teacher despite not having any powers and while you loved your job, you always felt like you didn’t belong and you yearned to be one of them, to be part of a group like this. You couldn’t even be angry though, this was how every mutant had felt in this world. An outsider. 
But Logan… Logan had always made you feel like you belonged. He would talk to you about his problems and you would talk to him about yours. He’d be there to hold you whenever you had a bad day, to brush your hair away from your face when you were on the brink of tears. He’d always come to you whenever he couldn’t sleep, when his nightmares would take hold of him because he had admitted one night that you make him feel safe, calm, peaceful. 
And he’d always come to you whenever Jean didn’t want him anymore. 
And you’d always be there to welcome him with open arms. 
“I don’t know, Logan,” you finally answer. “She won’t ever leave Scott… You and I both know this.”
“She just needs to realize–”
“Stop,” you interrupt him. “Please, Logan.”
Logan looks down at you. “What?”
“I’ve always been right here,” you say quietly, teary eyes staring up at him. 
“I know,” he sighs. “And I’m lucky–”
“We both know that’s not what I mean,” you interrupt. “You can’t be that dense, Logan.”
He tightens his jaw and you look down at his hands to see them curled into fists. All it takes is one clench and his claws would come out. “We can’t. That can’t ever happen between us.” 
“Why?” you ask. “What’s so wrong with me that you can’t see that I would choose you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” he sighs. “We just–” Logan shakes his head. “No, bub.”
“What’s so special about Jean, hm?” you ask, voice raising as tears now slowly trickle down your cheeks. “What does she have that I don’t? Is it her powers? Is it because she’s a mutant?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “I don’t care if you’re not a mutant.”
“Then what?!” Your lower lip quivers and you take a step back when you yell at him. You can feel your entire body shaking, emotions and feelings that you had kept bottled in now coming to the surface. “Then what, Logan?” you repeat. 
“I can’t love you.”
“You can’t, or you don’t?” 
“Bub,” Logan sighs, hand slowly reaching out for you but you shake your head and step away from him. 
“Whenever you needed someone, I have always been there. When you needed to leave for whatever reason, I was always here waiting for you to come back. It’s always been me, Logan. Me.” 
“I know…” Logan’s eyes soften at the sight of you and he wants so badly to just pull you into his arms. He would never admit to you the feelings he has for you, would never tell you how much he wishes that things were different. Part of him thinks he loves Jean, knows that she can handle her own if anything were to happen, but you… If you were to ever be in danger because of him, he would never forgive himself. So, he keeps you at a friendly distance, never displaying to the rest of the team just how much you mean to him. 
“I can’t do this anymore,” you whisper, voice shaky. “I can’t be the person you keep coming to whenever Jean doesn’t want anything to do with you. You deserve someone who’s going to choose you, Logan,” you stare up at him, eyes glistening with tears. “You deserve someone who’s not going to hurt you.”
Logan’s jaw tightens. “What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?”
“I fucking love you, Logan!” you bite your lower lip, your own hands clenching into fists in hopes that the action would ground you, would alleviate some of the frustration that you’re feeling. “I fucking love you and I can no longer just sit around and act like I don’t.” 
“Sweetheart,” his voice cracks and suddenly, he realizes that losing you hurts far more than the disappointment he continues to feel with Jean. “Don’t–”
“You break my heart every fucking time you come to me about Jean,” you admit. “And I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do this anymore,” you repeat. 
“Baby,” Logan whispers. 
“I’m going to tell Charles that I’ve got a family emergency and that I will need to leave immediately,” you tell Logan, moving around him to gather your duffle bag and setting it on your bed. “I’m sure he’ll know the real reason why I’m leaving, but–”
Logan reaches out for you, his hand a gentle touch against your wrist. “Stop, please…”
You pull your hand away from his grasp and look up at him, “Be honest with me and tell me that you don’t see anything here… That you don’t feel something for me.”
Logan stares into your eyes and he tightens his jaw, hand reaching up to gently brush a tear away from your cheek. “I can’t,” he whispers. “I need you to understand that I can’t, baby.” 
You nod and step away from him. “I won’t ever be enough, will I?” 
“That’s not true–”
“Just get out, Logan. Please.” 
“I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. You’re breaking me–”
“You broke me first, Logan,” you interject and turn back around to toss your clothes carelessly into your bag, tears strolling down your cheeks. You can still feel Logan’s presence, can hear him huffing lowly under his breath. 
When your clothes are in your bag, you toss it over your shoulder and turn around to see him standing near your door. You walk over to him and reach for the door handle, gripping it tightly as you look up at him once more. For one last time. 
“Don’t go, please,” he whispers. 
“I wish you nothing but the best, Logan,” you reply. “And I hope one day you realize that you deserve so much more than what Jean is giving you. You deserve to be happy, to be loved, to be chosen.”
“Baby–”
Slowly, you turn the handle and open the door, tearing your gaze away from him. “Goodbye, Logan.”
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