#a punch in the gut or a punch in the feels. a way to whisper in my ear something awful and demeaning that no one else could hear
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hi!! may i request 39(angst prompt) with wonwoo but with a happy ending pleaseđ„șđ
of course lovely!!! đ€
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // wonwoo's m.list
angst prompt #39: "why are you pushing me away?"
wonwooâs been watching you from across the room, his fingers curled tightly around the edge of his drink. your laugh rings out, light and sweet, but it doesnât reach him. it hasnât reached him in weeks.
he doesnât know when it started. the distance between you. the hesitance in your smile when you see him. the way you pull away from his touch like it burns. itâs suffocating, the way it all sits heavy on his chest, and he feels like if he doesnât say something now, he might never get the chance.
so he crosses the room.
you notice him too late. he sees the way your shoulders stiffen, the way your expression flickers between surprise and something that looks like dread.
âcan we talk?â he asks, his voice quiet, but firm.
ânow?â you glance at your friends, at mingyu whoâs watching the two of you with an expression thatâs too knowing.
âyeah.â
you donât argue. you never do, and thatâs the part that kills him the most.
he leads you outside, to the quiet balcony where the noise of the party fades into the background. the cold air bites at his skin, but it does nothing to numb the ache in his chest.
âwonwoo, if this is aboutââ
âwhy are you pushing me away?â he cuts you off, his voice trembling despite himself.
your mouth opens, then closes. your eyes dart to the ground, and you wrap your arms around yourself like youâre trying to shield yourself from him.
âiâm not,â you say finally, but the words sound hollow even to you.
âyou are,â he presses, stepping closer. âand i donâtâI donât understand why. did i do something? say something? because if i did, just tell me, and iâll fix it.â
âitâs not that simple, wonwoo.â
âthen make it simple,â he says, his voice breaking at the edges. âplease. i canât keep pretending like everythingâs fine when itâs not. not when it feels like youâre already halfway out the door.â
your breath hitches, and he sees the way your hands tremble as you grip the railing.
âiâm not good for you,â you whisper, and the words hit him like a punch to the gut. âyou deserve someone whoâs... better. someone who can love you the way you deserve to be loved.â
âwhat are you talking about?â his voice cracks, but he doesnât care. âyou think you donât love me enough? you think youâre not enough? where are you getting this? where is this even coming from?â
you turn away, and it takes everything in him not to reach out and pull you back.
âi donât want to hurt you,â you admit, your voice barely audible. âand i feel like thatâs all i ever do.â
âyou donât,â he says immediately, but you shake your head like you donât believe him.
âi do, wonwoo. i see it. in the way you look at me, like youâre scared iâm gonna disappear. and iââ your voice wavers. âi donât want to be the reason youâre unhappy.â
he takes a shaky breath, his hands clenching at his sides.
âyouâre not,â he says firmly, stepping closer again. âyouâre the opposite of that. every time you smile, every time you laugh, even if itâs not at me, itâs enough to make my day. youâre the one thing in my life that feels like home, and you think youâre hurting me?â
you turn to look at him then, your eyes wide and glassy, and it shatters something in him.
âif iâm scared, itâs because i donât want to lose you,â he continues, his voice softer now, pleading. âbut if you push me away, thatâs whatâs going to hurt. not being with youâthatâs whatâll break me.â
he watches as your defenses crumble, piece by piece, until youâre standing there with tears streaming down your cheeks and an expression so raw it makes his chest ache.
âiâm scared, too,â you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
âthen letâs be scared together,â he says, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles. âweâll figure it out. i donât care how long it takes or how hard it gets. i justâi just want to be with you.â
you let out a shaky laugh, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand.
âyou make it sound so easy.â
âbecause it is,â he says, stepping closer until heâs right in front of you. âas long as weâre together, it is.â
you let out a breath, one that sounds like itâs been trapped in your chest for far too long, and then youâre closing the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his chest.
he freezes for a moment, like heâs afraid this is some kind of cruel dream, but then his arms come up around you, holding you tightly against him.
âiâm sorry,â you mumble against his sweater.
âdonât be,â he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. âjust stay.â
you nod, and he feels your arms tighten around him.
he doesnât know what the future holds, but in this moment, with you in his arms and your walls finally coming down, he thinks maybeâjust maybeâitâs going to be okay.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#svt#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seventeen x reader#fanfic#svt angst#daisymbin: reqs#seventeen angst#jeon wonwoo fluff#jeon wonwoo angst#jeon wonwoo imagines#jeon wonwoo fanfic#jeon wonwoo seventeen#seventeen jeon wonwoo#jeon wonwoo x you#jeon wonwoo x reader#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo seventeen#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo angst#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo
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Opposite â Rafe Cameron
Part Two
She looks nothing like me So why do you look so happy?
Summary: After seeing her ex-boyfriend Rafe Cameron happily flirting with his new girlfriend Sofia at a party, the reader confronts the painful reality that Sofia is everything sheâs notâquiet, effortless, and seemingly perfect for him.
Pairings: ExBF!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: None
A/N: Y'all really wanted part two, I had to deliver :)
First Part Here
It had been six months since that night at the Kook party, six months since youâd finally walked away from Rafe Cameron. It hadnât been easy, but youâd found something you didnât think youâd feel again: peace. Or at least, something close to it.
Your new boyfriend, Noah, had been a big part of that. He was different from Rafe in every wayâkind, steady, and, most importantly, honest. He never made you feel like you werenât enough, never looked at you like he was waiting for someone better to come along.
So when he invited you to dinner at a cozy waterfront restaurant, you thought it would be another perfect evening. The two of you sat at a table on the deck, the ocean breeze sweeping through your hair as the sun dipped below the horizon. You were mid-laugh at one of Noahâs terrible jokes when your eyes caught movement across the patio.
And then you saw him.
Rafe.
He was sitting at a nearby table with Sofia. Her laughter rang out, soft and melodic, as she reached across the table to touch his hand. Rafe leaned back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered across his face.
Your stomach twisted painfully. You hadnât seen him since that night, and now, here he was, looking as infuriatingly perfect as ever. His gaze shifted, almost like he could sense you staring, and for a brief, agonizing moment, your eyes locked.
He froze, his smirk faltering as recognition flickered across his face.
âHey, you okay?â Noahâs voice pulled you back to the present.
You tore your eyes away, forcing a smile as you turned to him. âYeah, Iâm fine.â
But you werenât. Not when you could feel Rafeâs gaze lingering, not when you could still hear Sofiaâs laugh cutting through the air like a knife.
The rest of dinner was a blur. Noah kept the conversation light, unaware of the storm raging inside you, but you couldnât focus. When the check came, you excused yourself to the bathroom, desperate for a moment to breathe.
You had barely made it to the hallway when a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.
âY/N.â
You turned slowly, your heart pounding. Rafe was standing there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his expression unreadable.
âWhat do you want, Rafe?â you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.
He hesitated, his blue eyes scanning your face like he was searching for something. âI didnât know youâd be here.â
âYeah, well, neither did I,â you said, folding your arms across your chest.
Rafe took a step closer, and you instinctively took one back. He frowned at the distance. âYou look... good.â
âSave it,â you snapped. âIâm not interested in whatever game youâre playing.â
âIâm not playing a game,â he said quickly, his voice low but urgent. âI just... I needed to say something.â
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms tighter. âWhat could you possibly have to say to me, Rafe? Weâve already been down this road.â
âI screwed up,â he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You blinked, caught off guard. âWhat?â
âI screwed up,â he repeated, louder this time. âI pushed you away because I was too much of a coward to deal with my own crap. I thought... I thought being with someone easy would fix things. But it didnât. It doesnât.â
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the raw honesty in his voice throwing you off balance.
âRafe...â you began, but he cut you off.
âI see you with him,â he said, his voice cracking slightly. âAnd I canât stand it. I hate that he gets to make you laugh like that, that he gets to hold you, to love you. It shouldâve been me.â
You shook your head, the tears stinging your eyes. âYou donât get to do this. You donât get to come here and say these things after everything.â
âI know,â he said quickly, stepping closer again. âI know I donât deserve you, but I... I miss you, Y/N. Every day.â
The sound of footsteps behind you made you turn. Noah was standing at the end of the hallway, his brows furrowed in confusion.
âEverything okay here?â he asked, his gaze flicking between you and Rafe.
You wiped at your eyes, forcing a smile. âYeah. Letâs go.â
You brushed past Rafe without another word, grabbing Noahâs hand as you walked back to the table. But as you left the restaurant, you couldnât shake the feeling of Rafeâs eyes on you, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest.
Even as Noah laced his fingers with yours, offering the kind of steady warmth you knew you deserved, part of you couldnât help but look back.
ââââââââââââ
 The drive home with Noah was quiet, the silence in the car thicker than usual. You stared out the window, the streetlights flashing by in a blur, but your mind was stuck in that hallway, with Rafeâs words looping endlessly in your head.
âI miss you. Every day.â
Noah must have noticed your distraction. He reached over, placing a comforting hand on your thigh. âYouâve been quiet since we left. You sure youâre okay?â
You hesitated, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. âIâm fine,â you said softly, though the words felt hollow.
When Noah dropped you off, he kissed your forehead and promised to call you in the morning. As his car pulled away, you stood on your porch, staring at the empty street. The quiet of the night pressed in, but your thoughts were anything but calm.
Rafeâs voice haunted you. His confession had cracked something open inside you, something youâd buried deep to protect yourself.
It wasnât fair. You were happy now. Werenât you?
But deep down, you knew the truth. You hadnât been happyânot completelyâsince Rafe.
With a shaky breath, you unlocked your door and stepped inside. You barely made it to the couch before your phone buzzed. For a moment, you thought it might be Noah, checking in again. But when you looked at the screen, your heart dropped.
Rafe: I know I shouldnât have said anything. I just needed you to know.
You stared at the message, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. You knew responding would only complicate things, but your heart had other plans.
You: Rafe, I canât do this right now.
His reply came almost instantly.
Rafe: Please. Just give me five minutes. If you donât want to talk after that, Iâll leave you alone.
You closed your eyes, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. Against your better judgment, you typed out a response.
You: Fine. Five minutes.
ââââââââââââ
Rafe was on your doorstep less than fifteen minutes later. He looked hesitant, his usual confidence replaced with something you rarely saw in him: vulnerability.
âYou really donât waste time, do you?â you said, your arms crossed as you leaned against the doorframe.
He gave a weak smile. âDidnât want to give you a chance to change your mind.â
You stepped aside, letting him in. The air in the room was heavy as you sat down on the couch, leaving a noticeable gap between you.
âTalk,â you said, your tone guarded.
Rafe leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. For a moment, you thought he might not say anything at all. But then, he took a deep breath.
âIâve been an idiot,â he began, his voice low. âI thought I could move on, that being with Sofia would make me forget you. But it didnât. Nothing does. Iâve been trying to figure out what to say to you for months, but every time I tried, I just... froze.â
You stayed silent, your arms tightening around yourself.
âI know I hurt you,â he continued, his voice cracking slightly. âAnd I know I donât deserve a second chance. But Iâm asking for one anyway.â
You looked at him, your heart aching at the raw emotion in his eyes. âWhy now, Rafe? Why wait until I finally moved on?â
âBecause Iâm a coward,â he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. âI was scared of how much I needed you. But seeing you tonight, with him... it made me realize I canât keep pretending. I love you, Y/N. I never stopped.â
The words hung in the air, heavy and overwhelming. You felt tears prick at your eyes, but you fought them back. âYou donât get to do this,â you whispered. âYou donât get to break me and then come back like this.â
âI know,â he said, his voice breaking. âBut Iâll do whatever it takes to fix it. Iâll wait as long as you need. Just tell me thereâs a chance.â
The tears finally spilled over, and you turned away, wiping at your face. âDo you have any idea how hard it was to let you go? To try and move on?â
âI do,â he said softly. âAnd I hate myself for putting you through that. But I swear, Iâll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if youâll let me.â
You looked back at him, your chest tightening as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. You wanted to stay strong, to protect yourself from the pain heâd caused. But the truth was, you still loved him.
You always had.
With a shaky breath, you closed the gap between you, your hands trembling as you reached for his. âIf you hurt me again, Rafe... I wonât survive it.â
His hands enveloped yours, warm and steady. âI wonât. I promise, I wonât.â
He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didnât. When his lips finally met yours, it felt like coming home. The kiss was soft and full of unspoken promises, his hands cradling your face like you were something fragile, something precious.
When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. âI love you,â he whispered.
You closed your eyes, letting the words wash over you. For the first time in months, the ache in your chest began to ease.
âI love you too,â you whispered back, your voice barely audible.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe in a future where love didnât have to hurt.
© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#outer banks#outer banks x reader#obx#obx x reader#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron request#rafe cameron season 4#drew starkey fanfiction
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Extra Reading
Some very short emmrook fluff, with hopefully more to come!
I feel like most people's emmrook dynamics fall into either student/professor or idiot/smart. I have a lot more fun with the latter.
The smell of incense drifted out of her new companion's hallway, a warm glow peeking out from beneath his door, a stark contrast to the otherworldly purple haze that hung in the Lighthouse's library. They had returned from their trip to the Necropolis earlier in the day, the professor and his skeletal assistant settling in quickly. Rook prepared herself for a conversation that had become routine at this point- introductions, explanations, questions. Every one had gone differently. Bellara had been beside herself, the history she had searched her entire life for coming back in a blighted, twisted form hitting her like a punch to the gut. Davrin, on the other hand, had responded to the news with the verbal equivalent of a shrug. Based on her limited interactions with the man when they had retrieved him from the Necropolis, Rook was preparing herself to field a deluge of questions she was wholly unequipped to answer. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door, and it flew open in response a few moments later, Manfred standing in the doorway, hissing happily.Â
âCome in!â The professor greeted her from the other side of the room, still filing the mountains of books he had brought into his new home. After organizing up the shelf he was working on to his standards, he turned to face her. When Bellara had suggested adding a master necromancer to the team, the image Rook had conjured in her head certainly wasnât what stood in front of her now. Initially, she had pictured a dour, silent figure robed exclusively in black and with a permanent scowl carved into their face. Instead, they got a sharply dressed, uncomfortably polite man who always wore a whisper of a smile. âHow may I help you, Rook?â
âJust wanted to see how you were settling in, talk to you about whatâs going on.â Rook responded as she took in the room that had seemingly apparated when Emmrich entered the Lighthouse. Two stories tall, lined with oak bookcases and centered around a spiraling staircase. Rook was unsure if the stone autopsy table in front of her was something Emmrich brought from the Necropolis or if the Lighthouse was able to sense the needs of its inhabitants. Emmrich went to sit at his desk, and motioned for Rook to sit in the chair opposite him. Manfred moved up the staircase, taking a pile of books with him.
âYou did begin to explain the situation at the Necropolis, but any further elucidation you could provide would be welcome.â He answered, his hands motioning throughout the sentence to add emphasis. The various bracelets and rings that banded his arms softly jingled as his hands moved, creating a gentle chorus that underscored his voice.Â
âWell,â Rook took a breath, preparing her speech. âThe Elven gods are real. I disrupted the Dread Wolfâs ritual to tear down the Veil. The imprisoned elven gods escaped, and he got stuck in the Fade. Now the two that escaped are out there, blighted, and planning to conquer the world.â She had never had a way with words. The professor blinked at her, processing the information she had dumped onto his lap.
âAh.â
âYeah.â
âYou have a surprising amount of levity, given the situation.â
âI donât really see much benefit in being a pessimist.â Rook shrugged, unsure how to explain how her apparent optimism belied the ironic detachment she felt from the world around her. Forged in the nihilism of the alienage and honed by the Wardenâs flippancy towards their own mortality, her separation from the world around her was an effective armor, even if it often left her envying those who walked though the world unprotected, but feeling.
A loud crash rang out above them.
âManfred.â Emmrichâs eyes widened with concern and exasperation. âI apologize, but I must excuse myself for a moment. I need to make sure heâs okay.â She watched as the professor walked up the staircase, disappearing as it spiraled higher. After a few moments, the itch that appeared underneath her skin whenever she had to sit still for too long surfaced, prompting her to stand and pace the room. The bookcases that lined the room drew her to them, rows and rows of books of mismatched sizes organized as neatly as possible. Trailing her finger on the spines, she read the titles as they passed by. A History of Necromantic Tradition in the Storm Age. In Pursuit of Knowledge: The Travels of a Chantry Scholar. Metaphysical Fade Theory and Practical Applications. Her finger stopped on the massive tome when she noticed the name of the author listed beneath it. Professor Emmrich Volkarin.Â
Shit.
It was difficult to not feel intimidated by him. Despite his kind demeanor, she felt out of her depth when she spoke with him. More than once, he had used words she had never heard before and couldnât guess the meaning of. She had only become literate a few years ago, and even then, it was by the most generous of definitions. Growing up in an alienage didnât offer many educational opportunities, and after joining the Wardens, she had been taught the bare minimum necessary to finish her training. Despite her literacy struggles, she had always harbored a desire to learn more about the world around her, about the world outside the towering walls of the alienage. Originally, it was driven by spite and jealousy from her childhood- seeing the human children going to lessons in the Chantry, overhearing their conversations about what they had learned that day. Nonetheless, the desire had clung onto her into adulthood.
âFind something interesting?â
âSorry, just getting distracted.â Rook snapped out of her thoughts, bringing herself back to the conversation at hand.Â
âYouâre welcome to borrow anything that interests you.â he offered as he sat back down in his chair. Rook tried to stifle the laugh that came out of her. The thought that she would be able to understand any of the texts that surrounded them was completely absurd. The Professor raised a questioning eyebrow in response to her outburst.
âI appreciate the offer, I justâŠâ she trailed off before finishing her explanation, a hot tide of shame beginning to wash over her. Did she really want to admit to him that she would struggle to read even the simplest book in his collection? Her borderline illiteracy usually wasnât a point of embarrassment for her, given the wide array of other skills she had. Fighting darkspawn rarely challenged oneâs academic abilities. In this setting, though, without a sword and shield to demonstrate her other competencies, the deficiencies she did have felt glaringly obvious. âIâm not much of a reader.â
âA pity.â Emmrich sighed, a slight air of disappointment gracing his dignified features. âThough, I often find those who donât enjoy reading simply havenât found the right book yet.â The slight waves of embarrassment that had been lapping at her feet began to rise, threatening to drown her. She had hoped her refusal would have been enough to drop the topic, and she wouldnât have to make an ass of herself in front ofÂ
Then, Rook reminded herself of who she was. Why was she embarrassed? Who cared if she could barely read? She could kill hordes of darkspawn with her eyes closed- how many literate people could say that about themselves?
âWhen I say Iâm not much of a reader,â Rook explained, âI mean I canât read very well. So, despite how interesting Iâm sure many of these books are, I wouldnât get much from them.â Emmrichâs expression softened, but instead of the pity she was expecting, he seemed to be embarrassed himself. Suddenly, a light appeared in his eyes.
âWould you like someone to teach you?â
#dragon age#dragon age veilguard#emmrich volkarin#emmrich x rook#emmrook#dragon age fanfiction#dragon age the veilguard
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i think what hits most about nobara's backstory is everything that's left unsaid and peaks from between the lines. it's the fact you can easily infer that something was wrong without ever having clear answers on what exactly was wrong. but if you can relate to the feeling of wanting to escape a place and the alienation from everyone around you, especially when you're brought up in small communities, then you can certainly understand, if not fully then partially, nobara herself and the struggles she might have had to face all by herself for a very long time; maybe even the importance fumi and saori had in her life and the pain from having to part from them; and, perhaps the selectiveness in letting people in that she later on develops as well.
#the way her story is told from fumi's point of view is quite interesting#nobara's backstory is like a silent whisper without a lot of obvious context and told from someone else's perspective#someone who until the end never really understood her fully despite their obvious close bond#someone who we weren't even aware was part of her life#and nobara's peak emotional moment and the last person she thinks as her life is in danger is her and the promise she didn't accomplish#a promise to reunite with the friends that shaped her and her life#ah.#i find her last line so... powerful?#she definitely struggled growing up and the only two people she kept in her heart from her life before jujutsu were people that#moved to where she lived. saori didn't even stay in that place for long. and then she moves somewhere new and she meets people#and a group that actually feels like home a community where she fits in and suddenly they kind of break through making place in her heart#just for everything to come to a halt. to turn to shit. for her to see that shatter away little by little. and in the end she's put in a#position where she knows she will not be able to hold on to what she cares for the most. that she will hurt people that truly cared for her#for not being able to go back to fumi and rekindle the friendship with saori and for being forced to be another punch in the guts for yuuji#and everyone else that up until that point were forced to go through losses already and traumatic events#and she decides to encourage yuuji to go on a good note and she truly believes the people she met made it worth it#even if it was for a brief moment in her life#i am not being coherent right now but it pains me :')#she deserved so much better#and i will hang on tightly to the line saying that she had a small chance of survival until the end#because she deserves it she deserves to live đ#i'm taking her from that stupid anime and putting her in a slice of life anime watch me#yuuji too. and everyone else. i'm taking the kaisen out of the jujutsu and you can't stop me#jjk spoilers#nobara kugisaki#jujutsu kaisen#jjk đ#my post
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ALWAYS : GOJO SATORU
gojo is an actor, a famous one, but heâs also been your boyfriend for a few years. you have an argument with him when he agrees to have a fake relationship with his costar without even telling you.
warning. established relationship! gojo, non-sorcerer! gojo, angst to comfort, reader thinking about leaving him.
gojo satoru, the name on everyone's lips, the face lighting up screens and hearts alike. after his series, jujutsu kaisen, hit the airwaves, his fame exploded. people couldnât get enough of himâthe magnetic charm, that boyish yet strikingly handsome face, his tall frame that seemed to demand attention, and that playful personality that left fans swooning. soon, he was everywhere, his every move followed, every glance analyzed. the media loved him, and so did the world. and it wasnât long before rumors began to stir, fans shipping him with his co-star, utahime, the chemistry they shared on screen now fueling wild speculations.
but youâ you loved him before all of that. before the fame, before the cameras, before the world started calling his name. you'd been his since high school, standing by his side through the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, when the world was smaller, and it felt like nothing could touch what you had. in all those years together, not once did you doubt him. not once did you question his love or his loyalty. satoru was yours, and you were his, in a way that felt unshakable, unbreakable.
until tonight.
youâre sitting on the couch, in the living room of your shared apartment, the place that always felt like home when he was around. the soft glow of the television flickers across your face, but the news it brings feels like a punch to the gut. there, on the screen, are headlines you never thought you'd seeârumors swirling about satoru dating utahime. the photos, the whispers, they feel like shards of glass cutting into you. your heart sinks, heavy and cold, and the world around you seems to crumble, falling to pieces at your feet. the trust you once held so tightly begins to tremble, slipping through your fingers like sand.
your chest tightens, breath shallow, as tears threaten to spill. itâs a slow ache, this feeling of betrayalâan unraveling of everything you thought you knew. but even with the panic swirling inside, even as the overthinking begins its cruel work, you hold onto a fragile hope. this has to be a misunderstanding, a twisted story spun by the media. you tell yourself to wait, to breathe, to stay strong until he comes home, until he can explain it all away.
hours tick by, and the apartment feels too quiet, too still. the silence presses in, and every minute that passes drags you deeper into doubt. finally, the door clicks open. itâs lateâalmost one in the morning. you watch as satoru steps through the threshold, his movements slow, his eyes glazed, the unmistakable scent of alcohol hanging heavy in the air between you.
satoruâs familiar smile lights up his face the moment his eyes land on you, that same warm, loving expression youâve seen countless times. even through the haze of alcohol, thereâs a softness in his gaze, a look of pure adoration as he leans against the doorframe for a moment, taking you in. despite the lateness of the hour, despite the swirling rumors, his eyes still hold that undeniable love, as if nothing in the world could change what he feels for you.
he steps closer, his movements slow but deliberate, and before you can say a word, his long arms wrap around your smaller frame. the embrace is warm, familiar, his body pressing against yours with a kind of gentle urgency. satoru buries his head in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into your skin like he always does when he needs comfort or closeness. his hold tightens around you, as if anchoring himself to you, as if the weight of the world outside disappears when heâs in your arms.
âi missed you,â he mumbles against your neck, voice low and slightly slurred from the alcohol. his breath is warm, his touch soothing, and for a moment, despite everything, everything seems like itâs as it should be between the two of you.
he pulls back just enough to look at you, the smile on his face wider, his gaze a bit more unfocused. he cups your face, his thumb gently tracing the line of your cheekbone. âyouâve been waiting up for me, dollface?â
you meet his blue eyes, those familiar pools of endless blue now a bit dull, clouded by the alcohol and the late hour. they still carry warmth, but beneath it all, you can see the exhaustion and the weight of something unspoken. his thumb traces your cheek with such tenderness, and for a brief second, it almost feels like everything is normal, like the rumors youâd seen and the doubts gnawing at your chest were just figments of your imagination. but as you nod silently, unable to bring yourself to speak, the lump in your throat grows heavier.
you watch his face, his smile a little too wide, his gaze unfocused, and your heart tightens. you want to ask him, demand the truth, but the words stay trapped inside, tangled with fear and uncertainty. instead, you just nod again, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt as you fight the urge to cry. the silence between you feels thick, and the world seems to hang in the balance, teetering between the love youâve always known and the fear of what might come next.
satoruâs smile falters for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he can sense the tension in the air. he can see the way you cling to his shirt, the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, and thereâs a brief flicker of guilt in his expression. but he masks it quickly with another, more forced, smile.
âhey,â he murmurs, his thumbs gently wiping away the tear that escapes down your cheek. âwhy the tears, dollface?â
he can senses your inner turmoil when you donât answer, the tension in your body, the way you cling to the fabric of his shirt tighten like a lifeline. the haze of alcohol makes everything hazy, his thoughts muddled and his reactions slower, but he can feel the storm brewing inside you. he leans his forehead against yours, his warm breath ghosting against your skin.
âdollface,â he murmurs, his voice laced with a mix of gentleness and intoxication, âi can see that pretty little head of yours overthinking. talk to me.â
your breath catches in your throat as he leans his forehead against yours, his closeness making it harder to suppress the storm raging inside you. his warmth, the familiar scent of him mixed with alcohol, wraps around you like a blanket, but it does nothing to soothe the ache in your chest. his words, so gentle yet muddled by intoxication, only deepen the conflict inside you. his voice pulls you in, but itâs the nagging thought in the back of your mind, the one youâve been trying to ignore, that finally breaks through.
with trembling hands, you pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your grip on his shirt tightening even further, knuckles white from the strain. the words hang in the air between you, unspoken but heavy. your heart pounds in your chest as you force yourself to ask the question youâve been dreading.
âdid you... did you cheat on me with utahime, âtoru?â
your voice is barely above a whisper, shaking with fear and vulnerability. you can feel the weight of the question settle into the space between you, and for a moment, it feels like time stops. the tears that had been threatening to fall finally spill over, your chest tight with the possibility that everything you had believed in, everything you had built together, could shatter with his next words.
satoru's reaction is immediate, his eyes widening as the weight of your words sinks in. without hesitation, he quickly shakes his head, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly but gently, grounding you both. there's a slight frown on his face, the alcohol clouding his thoughts, making it harder for him to process what you're feeling, but his urgency to reassure you is clear.
âno, no, no,â he mutters, his voice firm despite the slur, âof course not. iâd never do that to you, never.â his words come out rushed, almost desperate, as if the mere idea of it hurts him. he leans in closer, his blue eyes more focused now, searching yours for understanding.
âi love you too much, dollface. you have to know that,â he continues, his voice softer but filled with sincerity. âthereâs no one else, not utahime, not anyone. itâs just you.â
his thumbs brush against your shoulders, his frown deepening as he tries to break through the haze of alcohol. he pulls you into him again, hugging you tightly, as if holding you close would somehow prove his words, his body trembling slightly against yours with the weight of his emotion.
you swallow hard, forcing a tight smile as you look up at him, your voice barely steady. âthen why did i see the news, satoru? about you dating utahime?â
the question slips from your lips, though the lump in your throat makes it harder to speak. youâre trying to keep yourself from breaking, to hold back the tears threatening to fall, but the ache in your chest wonât ease. every part of you feels fragile, like youâre on the edge of crumbling.
you watch his expression carefully, searching for somethingâan explanation, a sign that what you saw wasnât real. but even as you hold onto the hope in his words, the hurt gnaws at you, and you wonder if your heart can handle the truth, whatever it may be. your grip on his shirt loosens slightly, but you canât stop the tremble in your fingers as you push through the overwhelming emotion rising within you.
satoru's expression falters again, his grip on you tightening, the alcohol making it harder for him to control his feelings. there's a mix of guilt and frustration in his eyes, a conflict warring within him. âitâs not what you thinkâŠâ he starts, his words slightly slurred, âitâs all just... itâs all for the press, you have to understandâŠâ
heâs trying to make you understand, to make you see past the headlines and rumors, but the complexity of the situation and the amount of alcohol in his system makes it difficult. he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperate kind of possessiveness. âitâs all for publicity, doll,â he repeats, his voice a bit more pleading now. âtheyâre pushing a narrative, but you know me. you know what we have. i would never betray you⊠never.â
he leans his forehead against yours again, his eyes searching yours for any sign that you believe him. the scent of alcohol is strong, but beneath it, you can still smell the familiar scent of his cologne, the one thatâs always so comfortingly âhimâ.
his words swirl around in your mind, a mix of desperation and pleading, but they donât quite settle. the weight of his arms around you feels heavier now, almost suffocating, and as his forehead presses against yours again, you find yourself pulling away, pushing him back gently but firmly. your eyes narrow, the confusion and hurt bubbling up inside you, and before you can stop yourself, the question bursts out.
âwhat? so you and utahime are just pretending to date? for the media?â
your voice trembles with disbelief, the words sharp and cutting. the idea feels like a betrayal all on its own, the thought of him allowing the world to believe in something so intimate with someone else. youâre struggling to keep your emotions in check, trying to hold on to the last thread of composure you have left, but the pain in your chest only grows stronger.
your tears threaten to spill again, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. the ache in your throat tightens as you wait for his response, your heart pounding with a mixture of anger and desperation for the truth.
satoruâs eyes widen further, the flicker of surprise obvious in his expression. he almost looks taken aback by your bluntness, the alcohol impairing his ability to react in a more composed manner. he stares at you, the weight of your words and the look in your eyes making it clear that youâre not buying into his explanation.
he tries to step closer to you again, his hands reaching out to touch you, but you step back, maintaining the distance between you two. heâs not used to you being this confrontational, this insistent, and for a moment, he looks almost lost, the situation overwhelming him in his current state. he swallows hard, the guilt and confusion clear in his eyes, as he runs a hand through his hair.
âi... itâs not like that,â he finally manages to stutter out, the words coming out shaky. âitâs just for appearances, for the sake of our careers... itâs not real. i swear, dollface. you have to believe me...â his voice is pleading, desperate even, as he tries to make you understand. the sight of you pulling away is like a punch to his gut, the fear of losing you obvious in his expression.
your frown deepens as his shaky explanation sinks in, but it doesnât soothe the ache in your chest. instead, his words make the hurt sharper, and your heart feels heavier with each passing second. you take a step back, creating more distance between you, and the pain youâve been holding inside finally spills over into your voice.
âyou didnât even bother to talk to me about this, satoru,â you say, your voice low but thick with emotion. âi had to find out like everyone else⊠through the news.â
the weight of your words hangs between you, and the hurt is unmistakable in your tone. your fingers tremble at your sides as you fight back the tears youâve been holding in. âdo you know how that felt? seeing you⊠like that, with her, and not even having a clue?â you swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it harder to speak. you want to believe him, to hold onto the love youâve always shared, but the betrayal of being left in the dark cuts deep.
satoru swallows hard, the impact of your words hitting him like a ton of bricks. the guilt on his face is almost tangible as he watches you step away, the hurt and disbelief in your eyes more apparent than ever before. his hands fall to his sides, the helplessness of the situation evident in his expression.
âi...â he starts, his voice trembling a bit, âi wanted to tell you... but i couldnât...â the excuse sounds hollow even to his own ears, a weak attempt to justify something that shouldnât have happened. he wants to reach out, to close the distance between you, but he knows that the hurt heâs caused wonât disappear with just a touch. his shoulders slump, his eyes dropping to the ground as he tries to find the right words, but nothing seems right.
âi swear, dollface...â he tries again, his voice barely above a whisper. âitâs not real. she means nothing. you mean everything. you have to believe me... you have to...â
the vulnerability in his gaze is raw and desperate, the pain in his voice mirroring your own. despite the alcohol clouding his thoughts, the fear of losing you is clearer than ever. âi just didnât want you to be upset.â
a bitter scoff escapes your lips before you can stop it, the sound cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. you cross your arms, the sarcasm lacing your words as you look at him with an almost mocking smile, your emotions spilling out in a rush.
âoh, well now that i know the truth, iâm just sooo happy, baby,â you say, your voice dripping with false enthusiasm. âeuphoria, really. thank you for this⊠for such happiness.â
you let out a sharp laugh, rolling your eyes as your hand moves dramatically to your chest, as if to emphasize how âgratefulâ you are. your expression is anything but happy, the hurt still etched into your features as you step closer to him, your fingers barely brushing his arm in a gesture that feels more like a mockery than comfort.
âthank you for letting me find out this way,â you continue, your voice faltering slightly beneath the sarcasm, the real pain slipping through your facade. âitâs exactly what i needed.â even as you stand so close, your words create a distance between you both that feels impossible to bridge.
your sarcasm hits him like a slap across the face, your words cutting deep. he flinches, the mixture of hurt and guilt in his eyes almost palpable. your expression is harsh, your smile laced with bitterness, and the false enthusiasm in your tone is a stark contrast to the pain evident in your gaze.
as your fingers brush against his arm, a slight shudder runs through him. he can sense your hurt, the anger behind your mocking expression, and the way you step closer, almost mockingly, only makes him feel worse. âstopâŠâ he murmurs, his voice low and choked with emotion.
âstop it, dollface,â he tries again, his hands reaching out to grab your arms in a desperate attempt to keep you from further pulling away. âplease, listen to me... itâs not what you think... i never meant to hurt youâŠâ his voice trembles, the alcohol-fueled emotions leaving him more vulnerable than usual. he canât stand the way youâre looking at himâwith pain and disappointment in your gaze. he wants to fix this, to take it back, but the damage has already been done.
a breathy chuckle escapes you, but there's no warmth in it, only bitterness. you pull away slightly from his grip, your eyes hardening as you meet his pleading gaze. âof course you didnât mean to hurt me,â you say, your voice low and sharp, âouâre just a coward, satoru. a coward who only thought about himself.â
your words are harsh, but they flow out before you can stop them, your frustration and heartbreak spilling over. âyou didnât even consider how iâd feel, did you? seeing it in the news, instead of hearing it from you.â
you shake your head, taking a step back as the weight of it all crashes down on you. âyou thought you could protect me by keeping me in the dark? you thought it would be easier for me to find out that way?â your voice cracks at the end, the anger youâve been holding onto breaking under the pressure of your hurt.
you look at him, eyes burning with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall. âyou always said i was the most important person in your life, but you couldnât even give me the respect of telling me the truth.â
every word you throw at him feels like a dagger to the heart, each one sharper and more painful than the last. the alcohol has made him weaker, less in control, and your words cut through him, exposing all of his flaws and mistakes.
âi... i just wanted to protect you,â he stammers out, his grip on you loosening, his fingers trembling. âi didnât want you to worry... i didnât want to hurt you...â he knows his excuses sound hollow and weak, the guilt weighing heavily on him.
you take another step back, your eyes narrowing as his words hit you, hollow and weak. your heart aches, but anger swells inside you, pushing the sadness deeper. âprotect me?â you repeat, your voice low and filled with disbelief. âprotect me from what exactly, satoru?â
your gaze hardens as you stare at him, your lips trembling, trying to hold back the rising emotion. âfrom seeing you pretend to date someone else? from the truth? from feeling anything at all?â
your words cut through the air, and as you stand there, a mixture of hurt and frustration twisting inside you, you realize the weight of what heâs done. âhow could you possibly think hiding this from me would make anything better?â your voice cracks slightly, but you swallow down the lump in your throat, refusing to break in front of him.
he winces at the sharpness of your tone, the pain in your voice making him ache. he knows how wrong he was, how stupid his reasoning sounds when confronted with the truth. he tries to find the right words to explain, to make you understand, but everything he thinks of sounds empty and weak.
âi⊠i thought if i didnât tell you, you wouldnât worryâŠâ he answers, his voice low, almost a whisper. âi thought i could handle it⊠i thought i could keep you out of itâŠâ
âi⊠iâm so sorry,â he falters, his eyes pleading with you, begging for your forgiveness. âi didnât want to hurt you⊠i never wanted to hurt you. i just didnât want you to worry. i wanted to keep you safe from the bullshit the media loves pushing, and i thought i could handle it on my own⊠but i was wrong, dollface. i was wrong about everything. please⊠please donât hate meâŠâ
your breath hitches, and despite trying to hold it back, the tears finally spill down your cheeks, hot and relentless. you stare at him, your voice trembling as you ask, âdid you even think about me when you made that decision, satoru?â
each word carries the weight of your heartbreak, the betrayal sinking deep. your chest feels tight, your mind spinning as you search his face, his eyesâdesperately looking for the love that was always there, the love that once felt so undeniable.
but now, standing before him, everything feels fragile, uncertain. âdo you even love me?â you whisper, the question breaking you as it leaves your lips. the vulnerability in your voice is raw, and the silence that follows feels deafening.
you search his eyes for the truth, for somethingâanythingâthat can make this pain go away. but all you see is a man who hurt you, and you're not sure if he even knows how much.
the moment your question leaves your lips, you see the change in satoru's expression. it's as if the words struck him harder than any blow ever could. the haze of alcohol vanishes from his eyes, replaced by a raw, searing pain. for a split second, he looks shattered, but then, in an instant, his jaw tightens, and you can see anger flicker across his face.
âyou are joking, right?â his voice is low, almost incredulous as he stares at you, his blue eyes sharper than before. âdonât you dare question my love for you.â his tone grows more intense, almost desperate, his hands reaching for you again. âi love you more than anything. more than anyone. everything i do, i do for you.â
his frustration simmers just below the surface, and you can feel it in his grip, his voice trembling not from the alcohol but from emotion. âhow can you even ask me that after everything weâve been through? iâve given you everything i haveâmy heart, my life, my soulâand you think i donât love you?â
he searches your eyes, his gaze pleading, desperate for you to understand, to believe him. but beneath that anger, you can still feel the weight of his guilt, the fear that you might not.
he takes another step towards you, closing the small gap between you. his hands tighten around your arms, his fingers digging into your skin as if he's afraid to let you go. âdonât you dare question my love for you,â he repeats, his voice low and intense. âi would never⊠i would never hurt you if i didnât have to, dollface. you have to believe me.â
he looks at you, something between desperation and anger in his eyes, as if heâs begging you to see past the lie, to understand that he loves you more than anything in the world.
you've never seen him like this beforeâalmost feral in his desperation to make you believe him. he's always been controlled, composed, but the thought of losing you has cracked that façade. he looks lost, raw, and desperate for you to see that he loves you, more than life itself.
your voice breaks as you softly ask, âthen why are you doing this, satoru?â your words come out between the sobs, fragile and laced with the kind of pain that cuts deeper than any wound.
his grip tightens slightly, his fingers pressing into your skin, but you barely feel it, consumed by the flood of emotion. the tears continue streaming down your face, each one a reflection of the confusion, the heartbreak, the betrayal you feel.
âif you love me⊠why?â your voice is a whisper now, almost pleading, as if you're hoping for an answer that will make all of this hurt go away. you look up at him, searching for something, anything that will make sense of this, but all you see is the same mix of guilt and desperation in his eyes.
you want to believe him, to believe in the love you once thought was unshakable, but right now, all you can feel is the ache in your chest, the sharp sting of doubt that you never imagined you'd have to face.
âgod damn it, dollface,â he mutters, his voice choked with emotion. âhow can i make you believe me? how can i show you that i love you more than anything? iâd move mountains, iâd burn the world downâŠâ
he leans forward, his forehead now touching yours, as he tries to get you to see the truth in his eyes. his voice is low and intense, his hands tighten around your arms, desperate to hold onto you, to make you understand how much he loves you.
the sight of your tears, the sound of your voice cracking with emotion, cuts through him like a knife. he reaches up to wipe away your tears, his touch gentle despite the intensity in his eyes. he can see the skepticism, the doubt in your eyes, and it only fuels his desperation.
âi would do anything for you, dollface,â he murmurs, his voice cracking. âanything. iâd give up everything, iâd burn the world down if it would make you believe me. just tell me what to do. tell me, and iâll do it.â
you meet his gaze, searching his eyes for somethingâanythingâthat could make the pain go away. his words echo in your mind, the promise of doing anything for you, but it all feels so distant, unreachable. the hurt inside you runs too deep, and no matter how much you want to push it away, it keeps creeping in, clouding your thoughts.
your chest feels tight, and the silence stretches between you, heavy and suffocating. after a moment, your head falls against his chest, the steady beat of his heart only making the ache in yours worse. you stay like that, in the quiet, trying to think of what you wantâwhat you needâbut itâs too much. the hurt, the betrayal, itâs all too overwhelming.
with a shaky breath, you push him away gently, your hands trembling as you do. âi need some time,â you say, your voice barely above a whisper, but firm. âi need to be alone for a while.â
his hands drop from your arms, his eyes widening slightly as you take a step back. you donât meet his gaze again as you add, âiâll sleep in the next room... for now.â and without waiting for a response, you turn and walk away, the weight of your decision pressing down on you with every step you take.
as the door closes behind you, the silence in the room is deafening, leaving only the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.
satoru stares at the door, his hand still outstretched, his mind struggling to process what just happened. the room feels empty without you in it, the silence is deafening, and the weight of what heâs done crashes down on him. he sinks onto the couch, his head in his hands, the full impact of your requestâyour need to be aloneâhitting him with a force he didnât expect.
heâs never been without you before, not like this. the thought of you being alone in the next room, your hurt, your pain... itâs almost too much to bear.
he sits like that, motionless, for what feels like hours, his mind a maelstrom of emotions. regret, guilt, worry, desperationâitâs all there, swirling together in a toxic mix that feels like itâs tearing him apart.
he thinks about going to you, of trying to make you understand, to apologize, to do anything to make things right. but deep down, he knows that you need this, that he needs to give you this time, even if itâs the hardest thing heâs ever had to do.
the front door creaks open, and you hear it close with a soft thud, followed by the sound of a car pulling away. you sit on the edge of the bed, your heart heavy as silence envelops the room. tears stream down your face, each drop a reminder of the pain from the night before. despite the exhaustion weighing down on you, sleep eludes you as the memories replay in your mind, the hurtful words echoing like a haunting refrain.
eventually, the weight of your emotions takes its toll, and you succumb to sleep, your body finally giving in to the fatigue that has consumed you.
when you awaken, the sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the room. glancing at the clock, you realize itâs nearly noon. the realization hits you hardâsatoru hasnât returned. a pang of hurt slices through you as you consider that he left without even saying goodbye.
as you move to the kitchen, a swirl of worry settles in your chest. where did he go? did he sleep well? did he eat anything? the questions multiply, and the thought of him with someone else makes your stomach churn. you canât shake the image of him with utahime, the fear gnawing at you like a relentless predator.
you pour yourself a cup of coffee, the familiar scent providing a momentary comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts. as you sip slowly, your mind races through countless scenariosâwhat if heâs out drinking again? what if heâs hurting? the worry overwhelms you, threatening to pull you under.
just as youâre lost in your thoughts, you hear the unmistakable sound of keys clattering onto the kitchen counter. your heart races as you blink, trying to process the moment. slowly, you turn your head, and there he isâsatoru.
he stands in the doorway, his disheveled appearance a stark contrast to the confident man you know. his blue eyes, usually so vibrant, are ringed with redness and framed by dark circles, a testament to a sleepless night. his silver hair is tousled, sticking up in all directions as if heâs just rolled out of bed.
âsatoruâŠâ your voice comes out as a whisper, the mix of relief and apprehension washing over you. he shifts on his feet, looking vulnerable and exposed, the weight of unspoken apologies hanging heavily in the air.
âi⊠iâm back,â he says, his voice hoarse and shaky. he takes a hesitant step towards you, the air thick with tension as he searches your face for any sign of how youâre feeling.
you stand there, coffee cup cradled in your hands, unsure of how to react. the memories of the previous night flash through your mindâhis hurtful act, your tears. despite the urge to run to him, to wrap your arms around him and forget everything, a part of you holds back.
satoru stands there, his heart thumping loudly in his chest as he watches the myriad of emotions play across your face. he looks weary, exhaustedâphysically, emotionally, mentally. the distance between you feels like an ocean, the air heavy with tension and unsaid apologies. he can see the war raging in your eyes, the hesitationâthe doubt. and it hurts, more than he thought possible.
he takes another step forward, his hand reaching out slightly, hovering in the air as if heâs afraid to touch you, to cross that invisible line thatâs been drawn between you.
he opens his mouth to speak, his mind racing through everything he could sayâeverything he wants to say. he wants to apologize, to explain, to make things right. he wants to hold you, to be held by you, to be close to you again. but the words seem to evaporate before they even reach his lips.
finally, he simply says your name. just your name. and the way it falls off his tongue is like a plea, a silent plea for you to understand, to forgive.
your heart races as you look up at him, his tired eyes filled with guilt and longing. the way he says your nameâsoft, almost reverentâfeels like a plea for understanding, a desperate attempt to bridge the chasm that has formed between you. but despite the sincerity in his gaze, the memory of last night lingers, a painful reminder of betrayal.
when he takes your hand, the warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you. you want to feel comforted, to lean into him and forget the hurt, but the thought of him pretending to be with another girl cuts deep. the mere idea of it feels like a heavy weight pressing down on your chest, suffocating you.
âi⊠i donât think i can stand it,â you whisper, your voice trembling as you struggle to keep your emotions in check. âseeing you with someone else in public... pretend to be all couple.â
satoru's heart clenches at your words, the pain in your voice slicing through him like a knife. he knew it was coming, knew youâd bring it up. itâs just one of the many things heâs been dreading this morning. but hearing it from you, seeing the look in your eyes, it makes everything so much more real, so much more painful.
he tightens his grip on your hand, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin, an attempt to soothe, to comfort. âi know,â he responds, his voice almost a whisper.
satoru's heart aches as he sees the hurt in your eyes, the pain mirrored in your expression. the weight of your words hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the chasm that has grown between you. he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, to gather his thoughts.
âthatâs why,â he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, âi spoke to the company earlier.â he pauses, searching your gaze for understanding. âthey were furious.â
he cups your cheek gently with his free hand, the warmth of his palm a stark contrast to the cold reality of the situation. âi never wanted you to be caught in the crossfire of all this,â he says, his voice thick with emotion. âthe pressure⊠the expectations⊠i just thought it would be easier if we kept it private. but i see now how wrong that was.â
his thumb brushes softly against your skin, an attempt to convey the depth of his remorse. âi was so focused on protecting you that I forgot what you really neededâtransparency, honesty. i wanted to shield you from the chaos, but instead, I just pushed you away.â satoruâs eyes search yours, filled with regret and determination. âiâll do whatever it takes to make this right. iâll fight for us, even if it means facing the wrath of the company. i want to be open about us, to show the world how much you mean to me.â
you blink in surprise, confusion flooding your mind as you process his words. âwhat do you mean you spoke to the company?â you ask, your voice wavering slightly. âwwhat did they say?â
but before he can respond, satoru turns on the tv, and your heart drops at the sight of him. he looks so differentâdisheveled, exhausted, eyes red-rimmed, as if he hasnât slept in days. the conference is chaotic, the flashing lights of cameras blinding as reporters hurl questions at him, but he stands there, unwavering.
you stare at the screen, completely stunned. your eyes flicker from the television back to satoru, who stands quietly beside you. the image of him on the screenâa mess of disheveled hair, red eyes, and exhaustionâcontrasts sharply with the composed, confident man you know. your heart pounds as you take in whatâs unfolding before you: the rumors, the flashing cameras, his raw vulnerability on full display.
the conference is chaotic. journalists fire rapid questions at him, flashes of light bursting in quick succession, but satoru doesnât waver. he remains steadfast, repeating only one thingâthat the rumors arenât true, that heâs had a girlfriend for years. you feel a lump in your throat, your chest tightening with emotion as the realization sets in. he did this⊠for you.
you turn to him, your voice shaky, barely above a whisper, âsatoru⊠why you did all of thisâŠ?â
he doesnât speak immediately, just watches you, his expression soft yet filled with a mixture of guilt and hope. slowly, he nods, his thumb still brushing gently over your hand. âi couldnât let you think for one more second that iâd ever choose anyone else over you,â he murmurs, his voice hoarse from everything heâs been through. âi had to do something⊠anything to show you.â
your eyes well up with tears again, but this time itâs not from pain or anger. youâre overwhelmed, touched by how far heâs gone to try and fix this. âbut you didnât have toââ you start, but he cuts you off, shaking his head.
âyes, i did,â he insists. âi needed to prove it. not just with words, but with action. iâm not letting you walk away thinking iâd ever betray you like that.â
satoru's gaze is intense, his eyes fixed on you as he continues, âi couldnât let you think for a second that i'd even entertain the thought of being with someone else. you mean everything to me, and i had to make a statement, a public one, because i canât bear the thought of you doubting that. not for a second.â
âi know i messed up,â he continues, his voice filled with a mixture of regret and determination, âbut i swear to you, iâll never do anything to hurt you on purpose ever again.â
your heart races as you absorb his words, a whirlwind of emotions flooding your mind. the intensity of his gaze makes you feel both cherished and guilty. the weight of the situation settles heavily on your shoulders, and you canât shake the feeling that you might be the cause of turmoil in his life.
you swallow hard, your throat dry as you find your voice. âbut what about your series?â you ask, anxiety creeping into your tone. âwhat happens now? you just⊠put everything on the line for me?â the guilt gnaws at you, and you can't help but worry that your struggles might ruin his career. âsatoru, i didnât want this to affect you. i thought youâd want to keep things private to avoid backlash.â
the thought of him facing consequences for his public declaration sends a shiver down your spine. you look at him, your eyes wide with concern. âwhat did they say? are they going to fire you? or change the series because of this?â his silence hangs in the air, and you brace yourself for his answer, anxiety wrapping around your heart like a vise.
satoruâs eyes soften even further as he looks down at you, his hand still holding yours, but his grip has tightened slightly. heâs clearly nervousânervous about what he has to say next, nervous about how youâll react.
he takes a deep breath before responding, his voice measured and controlled. âiâm not getting fired, dollface.â his words, though relieving, donât seem to quell the anxiety in your eyes. itâs clear that thereâs more to the story, and he can see that youâre bracing for the worst.
satoru watches your expression shift from worry to confusion, then a flicker of understanding as he continues. âthey just decided to kill me off in the middle of the second season,â he says, forcing a smile, though it doesnât quite reach his eyes. He chuckles lightly, trying to lighten the mood. âthe writer never really liked me anyway.â
he sees the way your brows furrow, and his heart aches for you. he wants to ease your concerns, to show you that his world isnât crumbling because of this. âitâs all part of the plan,â he adds, his tone playful, even if the situation isnât exactly ideal. âmaybe iâll get a dramatic comeback. who doesnât love a good resurrection arc, right?â
he cups your nape gently, his thumb brushing along your skin as he leans down to place a tender kiss on your forehead. âiâd do it a million times over for you, you know? iâd take the hit if it means you feel secure in my love. No one else matters more than you.â
as he pulls back slightly, he searches your gaze, hoping to see a hint of reassurance that you understand his intentions. he wants you to feel loved and protected, no matter the chaos that surrounds them.
your heart feels heavy as you gaze up at satoru, the weight of your worry settling deep in your chest. âare you sure about this?â you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. âi donât want to be the person who ruins your career.â
the concern in your eyes reflects the turmoil inside you, the fear that your feelings and insecurities could jeopardize everything heâs worked so hard for. you search his face for any sign of doubt, but all you find is unwavering determination.
satoruâs expression shifts, and he gently squeezes your hand, trying to convey his certainty. âdollface, you could never ruin my career,â he reassures you, his voice steady and calm. âif anything, youâre the reason i want to fight for it. i donât care what they think or what the company says. my love for you is worth any backlash i might face.â
he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours, grounding you both in the moment. âiâd rather give it all up than let you feel like youâre the problem. you are my priority, and nothing will ever change that.â his blue eyes search yours, pleading for you to believe him, to trust that heâs all in.
your heart pounds in your chest as satoruâs words sink in, the rawness of his vulnerability hitting you like a tidal wave. his career, his reputation, his futureâheâs willing to risk all of it for you, and the weight of that sacrifice leaves you reeling.
you look at him, the love and determination evident in his eyes, and you struggle to find the words to express the mixture of gratitude and guilt churning inside you. you donât want to be the one causing ripples in his world, but his steadfast resolve makes it impossible to deny the intensity of his feelings.
satoru notices the turmoil in your expression, the way your brow furrows with guilt as you process his words. it cuts through him like a knife, the thought that you might still feel responsible for any turmoil in his life. he canât stand to see you in pain, especially not when itâs tied to his choices.
he takes a deep breath, trying to ease your mind. âhey,â he says gently, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his, âiâve got a few offers for new series and movies lined up. iâm not in danger of losing everything, i promise. theyâre just waiting for me to finish this one.â
a small, reassuring smile crosses his face, one that he hopes will lift some of the weight off your shoulders. âthis is just a bump in the road, and iâm more than capable of handling it. what matters is you. i need you to know that Iâll always choose you, no matter what.â
he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with sincerity. âweâll figure this out together, okay? youâre not a burden; youâre my motivation.â
your heart squeezes at satoru's words, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. the guilt, the worry, the loveâit's all flooding through you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. but in that vulnerability, you also see the depth of his devotion, his unwavering commitment to you.
âbut⊠i donât want you to choose,â you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. âi don't want you to feel like you have to sacrifice your career... because of me.â
satoru hums softly at your words, the sound reverberating with warmth as he processes your concerns. with a gentle yet deliberate motion, he lifts you to sit on the counter, his hands steadying you as your thighs rest against the cool surface. he positions himself closer, his forehead resting against the counter beside your body, effectively caging you in.
âi canât sacrifice you for my career either,â he says, his voice low and earnest, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours. âyouâre the one thing i wonât compromise on. iâd give up everything for you, even if it meant starting over. no job, no series, nothing could ever mean more to me than you.â
his expression is fierce, a combination of determination and vulnerability that makes your heart race. âso please, donât worry about me. weâre in this together. weâll figure it out side by side, and iâll make sure you never feel like youâre standing in the way of my dreams.â
as you look into his eyes, the depth of his words washes over you, and a warmth spreads through your chest. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing the reassurance of his presence. the feel of his warmth against you brings a sense of comfort, a connection that calms the storm of emotions swirling inside you.
âi just⊠i donât want to be the reason for your struggles,â you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. âi care about you so much, satoru. i want you to shine, to succeed, and to be happy.â
holding him tightly, you feel the tension in his body ease as he leans into you, his breath mingling with yours. âi know weâll figure this out together,â you whisper, your heart swelling with love. âbut promise me you wonât carry this weight alone. weâre a team, right?â
satoruâs eyes flutter shut as he absorbs your words, a mixture of gratitude and relief washing over him. your unwavering support and love are like a balm on his weary soul, and he melts into your embrace, his head resting on your shoulder.
âtogether,â he affirms, his voice a whisper against your skin. âyouâre not just my partner; youâre my foundation. you give me the strength to face anything, good or bad. weâre in this together, and no one, not even the company, can come between us.â
he lifts his head, his eyes studying your face. âyouâre not a burden or an inconvenience, dollface. youâre my priority, my everything. i may have an image to uphold, but nothing is worth more than your happiness, your comfort. iâd take on the world for you if i have to.â
a flicker of vulnerability passes across his face. âjust promise me that youâll keep communicating with me. if you ever feel like youâre in my way or like youâre causing me trouble, i needâno, i want you to tell me, okay?â
a warm smile spreads across your face at his words, the sincerity in his eyes soothing the lingering doubts in your mind. you nod, feeling a rush of affection for him. âokay,â you mumble softly, your voice filled with reassurance.
a wave of visible relief washes over satoruâs face as you agree to his request. the tension in his body eases visibly, and he reaches up to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.
âthank you,â he whispers, his hand resting on your cheek. âi just... i need to know that youâre okay, that weâre okay. that, even when things are messy, weâre still you and me. always.â
you nod, a soft smile still gracing your lips as you gently cup his cheeks in your hands. feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms, you lean in closer, your heart racing in anticipation.
satoruâs heart races at the touch of your hands against his cheeks, the warmth of your palms sending electric currents through his body. your lips meet his, a sense of peace washes over you, the world around you fading into the background. itâs a sweet, tender kiss, filled with unspoken promises and the depth of your feelings for him. as your lips meet his, he savors the taste of you, melting into the kiss like a man starved.
you pull back slightly, your foreheads resting against each other, and whisper, âalways,â letting the word linger in the air between you, a vow that encapsulates everything you both cherish. itâs a simple word, but it carries the weight of your love, a reminder that no matter the chaos, youâll always find your way back to each other.
satoru feels the weight of your promise like a gentle caress. a content smile spreads across his face as he brushes his nose against yours, a whisper of affectionate laughter escaping his lips.
âalways,â he repeats quietly, his blue eyes sparkling with love. âme and you.â
#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk angst#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen imagine#gojo satoru#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#gojo angst#satoru x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x y/n#jjk drabbles
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pairing: logan howlett x afab!reader. 18+, minors dni. angst; smut (p in v unprotected sex; handjob - logan receiving; oral - reader & logan receiving). canonically bisexual reader. mentions of pregnancy attempts. dp+w movie spoilers.
synopsis: in the Void, after leaving the other dead in your own timelines, you and Logan are reunited.
words: 8.5k.
notes: this was inspired by not your man by @studioghibelli and the worst logan by @coweye! please go and read both these fics and show their authors some love, they are both incredibly talented writers who deserve it! dividers by @saradika-graphics đ
The past couple of days have been a lot.Â
To be honest, anything that isnât sitting at a bar drinking the place dry is a lot to Logan nowadays. Heâs used to low lights, rumbling conversation around him, the fuzzier end of consciousness. Even now he aches for a drink, knowing heâll have to wake up sober next to the asshole in red he spent the night putting down in that fucking minivan.Â
He hopes, at least, he has been met with all the surprises that this place can afford him.Â
Ah. But thatâd be too fucking easy, right?
That Cajun bastardâs liquor sits comfortably in the cradle of his palm and he chases away lucidity one swig at a time. Tries to block out the half-baked plan Wade is concocting with the other poor bastards who have been stuck here, even if itâs all probably pointless. He only chimes in to laugh at their hope.Â
Then Elektra turns, withering pity in her eyes, and seems to properly assess him for the first time.Â
âTheyâre gonna be so disappointed when they see you.â
âWho?â he snorts, past the point of caring that heâd disappoint anyone. Itâs then that Elektra hits him like a fucking freight train with just one word spilling from her lips: your name.Â
Logan feels a flood of memories come back to him. Ones heâs spent too long trying to drink away. The early morning when youâd hide under the blankets together, your hand cradling his face and letting the whole world consist of just the two of you. The stolen kisses in quiet corridors so the students at the mansion wouldnât catch you and start silly little rumours.Â
Him holding your lifeless body in his arms surrounded by the rubble of what used to be your bedroom, your powers unable to save you.Â
He doesnât have anything to say, merely spitting vitriol to anyone who tries to speak to him, even that damn kid who still prefers the other dead Logan to him. Why wouldnât she? Heâs a fucking mess, worth less than nothing, and that Logan was a hero.Â
He retreats in the evening to lick his wounds or, hopefully, drown them. People keep trying to fucking talk to him and he does not want it. Yet theyâre fucking relentless, like the Void is perfect at creating gut punch after gut punch for him. Laura walks away into the darkness after successfully making him feel like shit - not that itâs difficult these days - and when he hears more footsteps he assumes itâs Wade coming to harass him about tomorrow.Â
âOh, will you fuck off - ?â he snarls, but the sight of you there, half lit by a dying fire with orange dancing on your skin, oh, it just kills any venom he can muster dead in his throat.Â
Logan is looking at a ghost and he has never been less prepared for anything in his long, long life.Â
Your mouth has fallen open into a soft âoâ as you look at him, brows knitted together as you take in every imperfect aspect of his being.Â
âLo?â you whisper. Your voice hasnât changed.Â
âLogan,â he replies, gruff, unsure if heâs confirming or correcting. But fuck does it sound good to hear his name out of your mouth again, even if itâs just a syllable.Â
You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear and take a seat on one of the logs which has been pulled up as a makeshift bench. He tries not to watch the way the fire lights up your eyes. Thereâs an agonisingly long pause before you finally attempt conversation. Â
âLong time no see, huh?â you ask with a weak grin. Fuck. Itâs like a dagger. Your humour was always something which endeared you to him. Unlike Wade you never took it too far, cultivating your sincerity with your silliness in order to grow yourself into peoplesâ hearts.Â
His heart especially, and now it aches.Â
He grunts, because he canât bring himself to actually say anything. Can barely look at you. You keep talking, either not noticing or barrelling on regardless.Â
âYou know, when the gang said that you were here⊠I didnât believe it. Thought there was no way a fucking Wolverine would fall into this place.â
âLet me guess,â he sneers, taking another long drag of bourbon, âIâm not what you expected.â
You laugh, an easy little thing, and part of him hates you for it. For reminding him of how it sounds.Â
âI mean, youâre not. But not because of what youâre thinking.â
âHow do you know what Iâm thinking?â It comes out as a snap, lip curling back over his teeth in disgust. You do not look bothered in the least, just crossing one leg over the other and leaning back.Â
âBecause I know you, Logan. Knew my Logan too. Bet youâre spiralling, making yourself out to be some kinda disappointment. Well youâre not. You could never be.â
He desperately wants to argue but he simply doesnât have the gumption. Besides, itâs nice to hear someone say something kind about him after all these years.Â
âSo,â you say after another one of those painful pauses, âconsidering every time you look my way you wince, you have a me in your timeline?â
He laughs without any humour in it, stares into the flames for so long they start to hurt his eyes.Â
âYeah. I did.â
âAhh. âDidâ. I died, then?â
You say it so flippantly, he canât fucking stand it.Â
âMmm.â
âMakes sense. Donât think Iâd leave you in any timeline, so the only way I could see us ending would be if I wasnât there any more.â You sigh, stretching your legs out to warm them. âCan I ask how it happened? Call it morbid curiosity.â
He absolutely does not want to talk about this. But, also⊠itâs you. Maybe not the you that was his, exactly, but it is you. Perhaps you deserve to know. He tries to stay dispassionate, as if he is a doctor quietly recounting the facts of death to a family member.Â
âMansion was attacked. Everyone died, including you. I wasnât there. Weâd had a fight, I went out drinking. When I got back you were gone.â He flexes his fist around the neck of the bottle, trying to avoid shattering it, but desperately needing to hold onto something.Â
âOh.â The fire crackles loudly. âWhat did we fight about?â
This will kill him. He will die in this Void.Â
âYou wanted to do another round of IVF. I didnât want to be disappointed again.â
The words settle like a cloud of choking ash over the two of you. He takes a long drink. What a fucking failure he is, couldnât even knock you up properly.Â
âFuck, Logan. Iâm so sorry.â
âYeah.â
âDoes it help if I tell you I probably wasnât that mad? Iâve never been really angry with you, you know. My Logan⊠we used to bicker a lot, we both had short fuses, but it never meant anything in the long run.â
He doesnât know if it does help or not. Is it better to know that you died hating him, making it easier? Or that you were snuffed out while loving him the whole time?
âYour turn,â he says, because he canât bear to continue this particular line of conversation, but for some reason he wants to keep talking to you. Your voice is a comfort he thought heâd long since lost.Â
âYou wanna see a picture?â you ask, a grin pulling at the sides of your mouth. No, he doesnât, but when you reach into your jacket to grab the photograph, he finds himself holding his hand out to take it. You slowly float it over, telekinesis absolutely unnecessary - but you always did use it to make the little things easier.Â
Itâs old. Frayed and disintegrating at the edges, a thing which has been held and looked at over and over again. Faded slightly despite the fact that you clearly try to take good care of it.Â
âOh,â he says, eyes widening. You chuckle.Â
âI know.â
Because, despite the lack of facial hair and addition of a decent rack, the woman with her arm around you in the photo is him.Â
The Logan in the picture is about as butch as they come, decked out in a Wolverineâs trademark flannel and leather. One of her arms is wrapped around you to keep you close against her, the other playfully flipping the camera off with a middle claw, and sheâs laughing with a joy he hasnât seen on his own face for years. Youâre pressing a kiss into her cheek and hanging onto one of her thick biceps. The two of you exude happiness.Â
âShe was the best thing that ever happened to me. She could be a mean cunt sometimes, smoked like a chimney, drank like a fish, but fuck we were the centres of each otherâs world.â You let out a long sigh and hold your hand out - Logan goes to give you the photo but instead you gesture for the bourbon. He passes it and you and you drink deeply, gratefully. âIâd been in a string of bad relationships. Guys who took me for granted, women who were toxic but I didnât realise until I was in too deep. Then she came along and well⊠she was a fucking angel in plaid.âÂ
Loganâs thumb absentmindedly strokes the photo. Heâs pretty sure thereâs a near-identical one back in his timeline.Â
âOur mansion was attacked too. She died getting the kids out.â
Fuck. Fuck. No, he canât do this. He canât face the way he should have died. He really is the fucking worst Wolverine. He snatches the bottle back from you, you give no resistance, and he polishes it off. The photo flutters to the ground.Â
âI think itâs time you fucked off,â he growls out. You roll your eyes, fucking roll your eyes at him, something his version of you did on pretty much a daily basis, and the knife in his heart twists further.Â
âWell, Logan, Iâm not gonna do that. Because this conversation is the most whole Iâve felt in a long time, and Iâm pretty sure you feel the same way.â
He doesnât. He does. He wants you to disappear forever. He wants to hold you close and kiss you, beg you never to leave again. He hates you. He loves you so, so much.Â
Heâs such a ruined man that it is laughable.Â
âSo what, I come along and just replace your little girlfriend? First Wolverine that you manage to get your hands on; is that what youâre hoping for?â
You bark out a laugh. It echoes around the trees. There are tears in your eyes when he turns to look.Â
âGirlfriend? Logan, you were my fucking wife!âÂ
Itâs such a ridiculous thing to say that the laughter engulfs you, peals of giggles that double you over. You hold your head in your hands and it soon turns to bitter sobs. He wants to reach out and hold you, apologise for ever making you sad. He tries to get any lingering drops from the bourbon instead.Â
âWe got married at the mansion. Charles officiated. The kids made us cards. We didnât get a honeymoon because we didnât have the fucking time. We had five years. Five really happy years and you know what? We wanted a baby too. We were getting a donor lined up! And then when the attack happened you were the one getting all the kids out I begged you to come with us but you were too fucking good, you had to stay behind and make sure nobody followed us. And it cost you your fucking life. They ripped you apart Logan. I know because all I found of you was your head and your wedding ring. I didnât even get time to mourn because I had a dozen children to fucking take care of! And I did because I knew thatâs what youâd want me to do. Itâs what you died for. So I lived in the fucking woods with all of them for years, and they were my family, and I made sure they were as safe and happy as I could make them. And you know what happened then? When they were all grown? A fucking TVA agent appears out of nowhere and tells me, âoops! Sorry! Your Logan wasnât supposed to die, it was meant to be you!â So they fucking throw me in this hellhole to rot away into nothing and Iâm sorry, Logan, Iâm sorry that when I heard you were here I got my fucking hopes up that you might be happy to see me, because if there was one person who understood all of the shit Iâm going through then it might be you.â You throw your head back up to stare him dead in the eyes. âAnd itâs pathetic because you know what? Even after all this? Iâm still not angry with you. Iâm still happy youâre here. Because seeing you makes me feel better, despite everything.â
Itâs a long-ass rant, and your words hang in the air after youâre done. He doesnât know what to say. What can he say? He opens his mouth to apologise but the words just wonât come out. Because, yeah, if he really dissects himself and looks at the parts laid bare, heâs glad youâre here too.Â
He reaches down to rescue the photo before an ember lands on it, gingerly extending into you. When you take it back his fingers brush yours. He wishes he wasnât wearing gloves.Â
âWho was the donor?â he asks eventually. That does a lot to alleviate the mood, and you smile through tear-streaked cheeks.Â
âYou might not like the answer.â
âOh, for fuckâs sake, donât tell me it was Scott.â
âThe two of you got on okay! Butted heads a lot but he was always a good friend to us. Plus it was cheaper than going through an agency.â
He growls to himself and it makes you laugh, but properly this time. Things have started to soften and itâs⊠nice. To be like this with you again. You pause for a moment, stuck on whether to ask a question; hesitate over whether itâs a good idea, then barrel on regardless.Â
âCan I ask a weird question?â
âYouâre dangerously close to sounding like Wade,â he replies. You groan at that idea.Â
âUgh. Fucking Deadpools, man. We get one come along every now and then and trash the place before fucking off again. Apparently thereâs like, a tribe of them out there somewhere.â You give a full-body shudder. âImagine. No, itâs nothing like that, I guess. Can you⊠can you take off your glove? Left one.â
He has a horrible feeling about this but when you ask so nicely, that air of vulnerability around you, well it just seeps into his fractures and breaks him open. It takes a moment but he does, flexing his bare hand in the cool air.Â
You reach around your neck and pull at a thin chain heâd barely noticed. The ring at the end slides up from where itâs been resting on your sternum under your shirt, glinting as you remove it.Â
âGive me your hand.â
This is a bad idea.Â
He does anyway.Â
You slip the ring on his fourth finger, softly twisting it to fit over his knuckle as you go. It is the perfect size.Â
âWill you look at that,â you mumble, not releasing your grip on him. âShe⊠you always told me your hands were kinda big because of the claws. Like I cared. One of my favourite parts about you.â
Your fingers trace along his, finding the spaces between them and gently slotting your hands together. Logan isnât sure if heâs the one who closes the grasp or if itâs you, but a beat passes and suddenly youâre holding hands.Â
Heâs not done this with you for so fucking long. An age of aching which is relieved at the feeling of your palm up against his.Â
âSo now what?â he eventually has to ask. You smile.Â
âWell, I mean, your Deadpool is probably gonna get us all killed tomorrowâŠâ
âUgh. Donât call him âmy Deadpoolâ.â
â⊠so Iâd quite like to just spend tonight holding your hand, if thatâs okay. Seems like a pretty nice final night to me.â
When you hit him with those soft eyes, what other fucking choice does he have?
You donât speak much for the rest of the night. Eventually the fire dies out. Laura comes to seek you out the next morning, and is surprised to find you lying side by side with this other Logan, the most deeply asleep sheâs ever seen you, fingers laced together so tightly with his it looks like it might hurt.Â
He comes to the fight, of course; dredging up what little courage he has left in him in order to prove heâs not totally pathetic. You catch his eye and smile so wide that he feels likes heâs done at least one good fucking thing in his life. He hears the sound of you ripping into people with an enthusiasm he hasnât witnessed for years. The last glimpse of you he gets before he jumps through the portal is you using your telekinesis to tear a manâs head off and he does not want to examine himself too closely when it sends a jolt of arousal down his spine.Â
They leave you all there to face the end, but everyone knew thatâs what you were all getting into. There has been a net gain and loss of nil. He never had you again. Not really. Not for anything longer than a night, and maybe that will be enough.Â
Yes. Thatâs enough. It has to be.Â
When he tells Wade heâll go into that room, when he volunteers to die, he does it with the knowledge heâll be doing something good, finally. Something youâd be proud of him for doing. And with you waiting for him on the other end of oblivion it really doesnât seem too bad a fate.Â
But then Wade does what he always does and fucks up his perfectly meticulous plan, and they both make it through, so he has to keep going.Â
When Wade asks the TVA agent to help the group of you they left behind, Logan is sure to add on that people should get the opportunity to go back to their timelines - surely itâs what youâd want (this oddly selfless request has Wade raising an eyebrow which he ignores). After all, why wouldnât you want to go back? Itâs where you belong. Where youâll be happiest. Putting things nice and neatly back into their place after this whole fucked-up venture.Â
He doesnât have you, but heâs still alive and wants to be, and thatâs something. A lot more than heâs had for a long time now to be honest.Â
His life becomes this strange little thing thatâs wrapped up with Wadeâs. He sleeps on his pull-out sofa until he has somewhere proper to put down his roots. Tries to lay off the booze as much as he can even if each day is a fucking struggle. Makes steps towards finding a proper place for himself; even gets a job on the door at the bar across the street. Itâs okay. One step at a time. He can put himself back together like that.Â
Imagine his surprise, then, when a week later thereâs a knock at the door.Â
He assumes itâs Al whoâs forgotten her keys, or is too drunk to fish them out of her purse after bingo, so opens it without really thinking.Â
The second time youâve nearly stopped his heart in seven days.Â
âHey,â you say.Â
âOh,â is what he can manage. You tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. Your go-to.Â
âYeah. Sorry. I uh, followed you back, I suppose. The TVA were gonna send me home but I asked where you were and when the answer was âhereâ, well⊠didnât make sense for me to be any place else.â
He blinks at you. After a beat of silence he can tell you hate, no doubt wondering if your choice was the wrong one, he lifts his hand to cup your face. You stiffen for a second and then nestle into his palm.Â
âYouâre real,â he states. You press your hand to his.Â
âI am.â
He pulls you into his chest and you are more than willing to come. He feels the way you bury yourself into him, nose first, remembering what he smells like. Your arms wrap around him so tight itâs like youâre scared he will disappear when it should be the other way round: if anyone is dreaming itâs him. You bothered coming here for him. You uprooted your whole life for it.Â
He could hold you forever but the neighbours are nosy and the apartment is a mess. He presses his mouth close to your ear.Â
âWanna get a coffee?â
You pull back to meet his gaze.Â
âIâd love that.â Your eyes drop and you pull a face. âOh, uhh, you might wanna get changed first, though.â
He looks down and realises what shirt heâs wearing before letting out a groan, which gets you chuckling.Â
âWilsonâs letting me borrow his shirts until my first paycheck comes in. Just to slum around the apartment.â
âOh, so youâre not âemployee of the month at the dick sucking factoryâ?â You ask, reading the slogan on his tee.
âNo. Looks like Wilson won out over me.â
The fact heâs made a joke hangs in the air for a moment and you burst into laughter, real actual laughter, and itâs the most beautiful fucking thing heâs ever heard.
He grabs the only plain shirt Wade has left out, slices off the sleeves just because, and grabs twenty dollars from his roommateâs wallet. Soon enough youâre sitting in the little cafĂ© near his building. The sky is grey and overcast, just threatening to rain but not quite bothering, and the two of you are tucked away in a corner table while Taylor Swift plays over the sound system.Â
Logan does not like that he knows itâs Taylor Swift. This is what living with Wade has done to him.Â
You watch him with affectionate eyes across the table, making sure nobody is paying close attention before using your telekinesis to stir the little metal spoon around in your latte. You nod at his mug.Â
âYou take coffee the same way as she did. Boring and black.â
Loganâs nostrils flare a little in a laugh.Â
âYeah, and you take yours the same way too. So fucking dense with syrup that itâs not coffee at all.â
âOh you were always such a coffee snob! âBabe you gotta try it plain first so you can appreciate the aromaâ,â you say, putting on a gruff affectation as a parody of his voice.Â
âYou do need to try it plain fââ
Heâs interrupted when a sugar lump floats into the air from the pot in the middle of the table and launches itself at him, bouncing off of his pectoral. He cocks an eyebrow.Â
âReal mature, bub.â
âGrouch.â
âContrarian.â
âIâm not aââ you pause, realising thereâs no way to win against that accusation, and grin at him instead.Â
âWhere are you staying?â he asks after a long drink. Itâs not booze. He kinda wishes it was booze. But also, he knows itâs best not to go down that path again, for everyoneâs sake.
âThe mansion. Turns out I died in this timeline too, so you and I are two for two hereâ - thereâs a hint of a smile at your own macabre observation - âbut they were using my room for storage so they just let me have it back.â You grimace a little. âItâs been weird. Itâs my space but itâs not, yâknow?â
âI get that.â
He probably gets it better than anybody. Nice to have someone to share this strange, singular feeling with.Â
âYou should come around. Lauraâs there too, I know sheâd be glad to see you too.â
âShe settling in okay?â
âYeah. Itâll take a while, but everyone has been really understanding and kind. I think sheâll thrive here.â
âIâm glad to hear that.â
You give him a smile that lets him know you believe it. Your eyes cast over him, taking in this new, slightly more settled Logan, falling still when you see whatâs pressed against his fourth knuckle.Â
âYouâre still wearing the ring.â
âOh,â he replies, surprised. Flexes his fingers as he looks at it. Itâs been so comfortable there, so utterly unobtrusive and right, he hasnât even noticed. âYou want it back?â
A beat passes as you consider the question. Coffee is sipped. Another sugar added and stirred, perhaps just for show.Â
âI donât know,â you settle on. âI kinda like seeing you wear it but⊠if you were gonna have my ring, Iâd want it to be one that was meant for you.â
He lets that idea settle between the two of you. Suddenly, slowly, youâre reaching forward, laying your smaller hand over his thick, rough one.Â
âLogan. I want to be with you. In every way youâll have me, all of it. I donât know if it was fate or god or plain luck that threw us back together but Iâm certain I donât wanna waste this opportunity. Iâd love you in every lifetime, in every timeline. I canât be without you ever again, I think it would just kill me - and if I know you, you feel the same.â
He doesnât even bother arguing because he does. When you turned up on his doorstep a scant couple of hours ago a part of his soul had been healed; your existence like kintsugi to piece him back together. A man made of adamantium and gold.Â
âIâd like that,â he manages.Â
âYeah?â Your eyes glimmer with a hope which heâs not been privy to for a long time now.Â
âYeah.â
âWell, okay then,â you say with a smile, and drink your coffee.Â
The two of you do not take it slow. How does one take it slow when your soulmate comes back into your life? You are not exactly the same person he once knew, but you understand each other in every way which matters. Your souls fit together like puzzle pieces. The two of you are whole again.Â
Then again, perhaps he doesnât need the version of you he used to have. Maybe, now, he needs this you - rougher around the edges, a little older and more wary, a fit which is better for him. Someone who can put up with his bullshit as Al once bluntly put it.Â
You barely spend a night apart. You stay over with him on Wadeâs pullout (inciting an input of, âsomething the two of you had better do, we canât afford a kid on my incomeâ!â before Logan had hurled a water bottle at him) meeting up with him after his shift is done in the small hours, getting something to eat at one of the greasy spoons which remain open. He devours full plates of fatty food; you stick to slices of pie which you feed him bites of from your fork. When you get back to the apartment you cuddle up on the uncomfortable mattress which folds from the sofa and fall asleep in each otherâs arms.Â
He sleeps pretty well nowadays.Â
The two of you only realise you havenât kissed yet when you do it for the first time. Youâre making a coffee run, tugging on his jacket because you like the smell of cigar smoke and itâs thicker than yours. A little act of intimacy which has become commonplace.Â
âSame as usual?âÂ
âMm-hm.â
âBoring,â you make an exaggeration of a sigh, before leaning over the back of the sofa to press your lips to his. He automatically leans into it, tilting his head up so that he can meet you; itâs a chaste little thing, a peck between two people who will only be parted for a moment, but you pull back in surprise when you realise whatâs just happened.Â
âOh!â you say with delight, eyes sparkling.
Your hand slips around his neck to cradle him, fingers playing with the hair at his nape. You gently pull him back for another. Longer this time. Lips slip together, moving carefully in something a little deeper. When you break for a moment itâs Logan who pulls you back. This third kiss is on the brink of hungry. He slides his tongue to swipe against your mouth and you let out a happy little hum at the intrusion.Â
His arm curls around your back. With a little tug he pulls you over the back of the sofa and into his lap, making you yelp with glee. His mouth returns to yours, crushing, greedy for any little noises youâre able to make. You relax into it and are happy to take whatever he gives you.Â
Wade finds you making out on the couch like a pair of teenagers, coffee forgotten. He does not let Logan live it down for a week.Â
The apartment is fine, but not a long term solution. Wade and Al are constant presences that stops the two of you being fully at ease together. Logan knows that invitation to go to the mansion is always there, but itâs a while before he takes it - he really isnât sure what heâll feel, being back at a place he last saw burned to the ground because of his pigheadedness. Might just break him all over again.Â
But ah, when you nock your fingers in the spaces between his, he can face anything.Â
One night, exhausted and full of diner food, he agrees to go back to yours - the two of you have had a late night coffee meaning youâre still a tiny bit buzzed, a little too much to fall asleep on the pullout. Instead you get a taxi to yours, near enough, tipping the driver well when he drops you in the middle of a random street and choosing to walk the last minutes hand-in-hand.
The mansion is quiet. Everyone is mostly asleep. And Logan does feel strange being back here, but it isnât a bad strange. Just another aspect of this new life he has to compartmentalise.Â
You drag him through low-lit halls, confident in the steps which will lead you back to your room; he recalls a similar journey from his own timeline in the night you first hooked up, smuggling him to your bed down the corridors all wandering hands and breathless kisses and giddy giggles; but thereâs no part about you that wants to hide this.Â
Youâd show your Logan off to the world.Â
Youâve tried to make the room your own, he can tell. Itâs pretty big and spacious. Good view. Has an ensuite which he plans on monopolising. He shucks off his clothes and sleeps in just his boxers, arms holding you to him so he can feel every part of your body against his. His chest hair bristles between your shoulder blades and you hum contentedly.Â
He agrees to come to breakfast the next morning and, to their credit, people are good at not staring. The members of the team he recognises from his past keep their distance unless he seeks to close it. Hank gives him a smile.Â
âGood to see you, Logan.â
âMmm,â he manages. Laura comes down to grab something to eat and lights up when she sees him. She gives him a hug which skews on the side of awkward but heâs grateful to receive it, and he can see how pleased you are watching this development.Â
He comes around more and more often.Â
Less time spent at the apartment with Wade - who constantly complains about the fact and Logan cannot tell if heâs sincere or not - more living in the pocket of you. He helps you sort out the furniture in the room so that thereâs more space; youâre moving a chest of drawers to another corner together when a photo falls out from behind them. Trapped against the wall for years. Long forgotten.Â
âOh,â you say, lifting it up and bringing it to your hand with a wave. Your face twists into something strange and bittersweet, a mask Logan isnât quite sure how to comprehend, but he quickly understands why when he joins you.Â
Itâs a picture of the two of you.Â
Not exactly the two of you, of course; the ones of you who lived in this timeline. Logan is posing on the back of his Harley, youâre propped up on the seat next to him with your head thrown back in laughter. The two of you look⊠young. This must have been taken when you first started going out.Â
Your thumb caresses the photo in a movement heâs familiar with.Â
âHuh. Looks like we were together here, too. Whoâda thunk it,â you mutter.
He slips an arm around you then because heâs feeling oddly sentimental. Itâs reassuring. No matter what timeline it is, thereâs a you who loves him and a him who loves you. A simple and irrefutable truth, like the fact that the sun rises every day or the moon moves the tides.Â
âApparently Magneto got me in the late noughties. Feels like a bit of a pathetic way to go, but diverging timelines, I guess.â
Logan knows that in this timeline, he stuck around for a while after. Poor bastard, he thinks. Having to live those years without you. Thatâs a misery he understands all too fucking well.Â
But not any more.Â
You leave the photo on your dresser, loathe to throw it away, and continue moving furniture to make room for the TV you just bought. Logan hates sharing the one in the living room, especially when the hockeyâs on.
Eventually Logan is spending so much time with you heâs barely living at Wadeâs any more. Youâve suggested theyâd be happy to have him back in the mansion for a âteaching jobâ like you have, though he knows thereâs never much teaching involved, more helping kids learn to defend themselves without too much collateral damage. Still itâs a fair chunk of change better than his current miserable doormanâs salary and it means heâd be living at more sociable hours.
Plus heâd get to move in with you, an idea youâre both secretly happy about.Â
So he hands in his notice at the bar and packs the scant few belongings he has at Wilsonâs into a cardboard box from Bad Dragon, which is strangely the only one Wade could find him (âgod Peanut thatâs so weird, oh well!â). Looks around the apartment heâs called home for some time, feels not entirely pleased to be leaving it.Â
âAnd remember sweetie, if it all goes incredibly wrong and you realise the place youâve belonged the whole time is on my undoubtedly piss-soaked pull out sofa bed, Al and I will be happy to have you back with minimal taunting.â
Logan fixes him with a look.Â
âWilson?â
âYeah?â
âThanks.â The word is odd coming from his mouth but not insincere. Wade goes to say something thatâs no doubt stupid and inappropriate, however he softens at the last moment.Â
âAny time. Go get âem, tiger, Iâm rooting for you.â
Youâve moved your stuff so he can have a side of the closet, and drawers in the dresser, and he resumes his life with you.Â
It takes only a couple of days for him to settle and realise how much he prefers this. Living with you properly. How, really, he couldnât stand to be apart from you. How he wants to be there for every second, hear every laugh which drips from you, comfort you whenever something threatens to ruin your happiness.Â
He falls asleep with you wrapped in his arms every night. Wakes up with you there. Pretty fucking perfect if you ask him.Â
Thereâs nothing special about the morning when you first make love except for the fact itâs the morning when you first make love. Itâs a border the two of you havenât quite crossed yet. Almost as if youâre both afraid to make the commitment, like it may break you apart; thereâs perhaps an underlying fear that youâre being unfaithful to your partners from your own timelines. That being together like that dishonours their memory.Â
Itâs a salve, then, that the longer youâve been together the more you realise that you donât love each other as a stand-in for the ones who died, but entirely on each otherâs own merits. He doesnât look at you and see the body he held in the manor. He sees someone who heâd protect, give his life to, become a dog for because heâs utterly in love with this you, the one who was so happy to find him in the Void, the one who patched him back together when he was at his most broken.Â
Thereâs nothing to second guess in this relationship. It is the most solid foundation heâs ever had, and from the way you look at him every morning as if heâs hung the stars, you feel the same.Â
That morning heâs holding you particularly tight. Itâs a Sunday, the quietest day at the mansion, and the two of you are in bed later than youâd usually be. Youâre both awake because youâre pressing more and more into each otherâs bodies, nestling together like nesting dolls. His arm slung around your waist, hips against the swell of your ass.Â
You shift slightly and he feels his cock harden in interest. Why wouldnât it? Most beautiful person in the whole world right here in his bed. He might be old but heâs not a fool.Â
Heâs aware your hips are moving again, pressing yourself into him harder. He lets out a quiet, gruff laugh.Â
âYouâre doing that on purpose.â
âMmm, maybe I am, Howlett. What are you gonna do about it?â
You squeak with laughter as he surges upwards, pinning your hands to the mattress either side of your head so that he can look down at you. Such a pretty picture beneath him. Hair all fanned out, eyes sleepy and sexy, ready to take in the syrupy-slow pace of the morning.Â
His lips press into yours softly but firm. You hum into the kiss, slipping your wrists from his grasp so that you can wrap your arms around his broad neck and tug him closer. Your legs slowly match pace, looping at his waist. His cock is free to press against your clothed core now and he doesnât waste a second of the opportunity; he grinds down, never letting it distract from the kiss for a second, even smiling into it when he can feel the blunt head of his dick catch your clit. You gasp.Â
âLoganâŠâ
Oh yes, thatâs it. Thatâs the voice. He could listen to you say his name a million times and it would still be the sweetest sound in the whole fucking universe.Â
He kisses you again and again, getting more fierce now. Tongues slide together and you moan into his mouth. Teeth clack with the force of it. He wants every sense to be drowned in you. Your smell, your taste, your touch. Youâre holding him so tightly itâs like youâre worried youâll just float away from the bliss of it all.
Heâd never let that happen. Heâll keep you right here in this bed, forever, if youâd let him.Â
With a display of telekinesis heâs not expecting, Logan finds himself on his back. You stare down at him with wide, hungry eyes, and heâs never been more turned on in his entire life.Â
âCan I suck your cock?â you ask breathlessly, and he finds himself huffing out a laugh because fuck, as if youâd ever have to ask. You take his meaning and giggle before you start to make your way down the plain of his chest. A kiss dropped on the top of his pectoral, followed by you moving that sweet mouth around one of his nipples to play with it. Logan huffs and arches into your touch like a schoolgirl. You use your teeth to continue the trail, tracing around his abs - which have become less pronounced ever since he started eating right, and youâve often expressed your pleasure at this fact - mouthing at where his muscles shape his Apolloâs belt.Â
Your hand goes to palm his cock through his boxers and he has to make a concentrated effort not to come. Itâs been a while since he was touched properly like this, and though he used to be able to go all night when he was a younger man, he truly doesnât know if he has it in him today.
You seem delighted by this development though. Holding his gaze you slowly drag his waistband down to his thighs, watching in delight as his cock bobs up, half-hard. You take him in hand and pump him lazily, languidly, enjoying every stroke which makes him firmer. You prop yourself up on your free arm, elbow on the mattress and palm cradling your jaw, eyes on him like heâs the show of the century. Â
âHandsome, handsome, handsome man,â you sigh, dreamily.Â
âOld man,â he chuckles.Â
âNot mutually exclusive.â
He has to concede that with the way youâre looking at him like you might eat him alive. Â
When he feels your mouth around his cock his brain almost short-circuits. Itâs warm and wet and willing, your tongue gliding along the thick vein you find there before caressing his head. Logan grunts, fisting the blankets, and a familiar snik has you looking up. You grin around his shaft when you see his claws have popped out from the intensity of his gripping hands.Â
Pleased, you continue with your work. You bob up and down as the fire builds in his belly, a low heat which is soon bubbling over when he feels you press the tip of your tongue into his slit, humming with pleasure as the taste of his pre floods you. Logan is aware heâs beginning to tighten in a way which suggests that if you donât stop now things will be over entirely too soon.
Claws retracting, his hand comes to grab your hair. His cock is enveloped in the sweet velvet of your throat, in fact he can feel himself brush against your uvula, and when you look up at him like that he almost gives up completely. He powers through though, carefully guiding you up and off. You wipe your spit-soaked mouth with the back of your hand.Â
âOh⊠was it notâŠ?â you donât voice the word âgoodâ but it hangs there anyway. Logan rumbles with a laugh.
âFuck, it was the best thing Iâve felt in years. Wanna fuck you properly, though. Come up here and sit on my face, baby. Need to taste you.â
Your eyes go wide. Like heâs come up with the idea of the century.
âFuck. Yeah, okay.â
There is nothing elegant about the way you pull yourself up the length of his body, but it is filled with a primal need which is far more sexy. You pause at his abdomen in order to rub your soaked cunt across his abs a couple of times. Fucking the muscles there. You throw your head back in gratification and continue up along his chest before a strong thigh is planted either side of his face.
Looking up at you from his back is his favourite view. Logan wastes no time in clamping an arm around either one of your legs and pulling you cunt-first onto his tongue, you gasp and writhe in delight.
âOh fuck, Logan!â you hiss. Yeah, thatâs it. Thatâs the voice he wants to hear. All strung out with sex and pleasure because of him. He fucking buries himself in you. Kisses your pussy sloppily, changing his attention from between your clit and your folds, no rhythm to his need. When your fingers scratch his scalp in your need to grab a fistful of hair he thinks he might be in heaven. His hips buck into the air, imagining the action of taking you before heâs even properly started. You start to fuck yourself on his face. Hips grinding down onto his beard, groaning at the stubble there which prickles and pleases.
âIâm gonna--â
âFuckinâ do it,â he mumbles from between your legs. You cum in his hot, wanting mouth; all the furniture in the room rattles as you let out a little involuntary telekinetic jolt.
You are not done. This was the appetiser. Eyes still ravenous you peel your pussy off of his face, sweeping down to kiss him so you can taste yourself there. Moaning in delight at the musk.
âWanna ride youâŠâ
âAnything,â he breathes because, yeah. He will do anything you ask, anything you want. Heâs a loyal hound at your heel.Â
When you take his cock itâs with less teasing this time, more intent. Spreading your legs wide you line him up with your entrance and slowly sink down. He wants to grab. Your flesh, the blankets, anything. Sensing his desperation you hold out your hands when heâs far enough inside you and he meets them in midair, pressing his fingers between yours, knuckles white from the effort.
Hips nestle against his. You begin to move.
âLoganâŠâÂ
Your name leaves his lips in a similar whisper, dragged out through his throat from his very heart. You look down at him, eyes clear and wide and lucid despite the heady pleasure.
âLogan. I love you. I love you.â
Yes, you love this him. Not as a stand in for the Logan you lost, not as some sort of idol on a pedestal, but because youâve fallen for him just like heâs fallen for you. He is worth loving. He is. He is worthy of you. It is a realisation which hits him with the force of a bomb. He grips you tighter.
âI love you too,â he confesses. He feels his pulse sync with yours from where heâs sheathed inside you, grips your hands tighter because he knows you can take it; you hold him back just as hard. Your hips rock in a wild rhythm as he brings his own up to meet them. Itâs hard to know whoâs fucking who, itâs wild and desperate and raw, but you keep chanting those words as a manta.
Logan. I love you. Logan. I love you.
He only lets go of one of your hands when he can feel heâs about to finish, dropping it to your clit in order to press rough circles there. You come messily over his cock and he spills inside you, pumping you full of him. Marking you as his.
You collapse into his arms, sweaty and spent. He holds you with arms like iron. Cock still inside, softening now, but he doesnât want to to break the contact.
You pull back after a moment of breathing together, propping your elbow on his chest.
âHey.â
He smiles back, a real smile, something heâs not been truly able to produce for years.
âHey.â
âI meant it, you know. I love you,â you trace a pattern on his collarbone, silly and intimate.Â
âI know. So did I.â
âMmm, okay, good.â You kiss him and hum into it. âWe should get up.â
âProbably.â
âBut letâs not.â
âSounds fuckinâ good to me.â
You laugh, and oh you are the sunlight.Â
The summer heat is cloying but Wade has set up some parasols on the top of his building to hide under, he did not specify where he got them but a few local restaurants seemed to be without on the journey back to the apartment. The group of you are definitely not meant to be up here, but with the weather so hot, nobody cares enough to cause a fuss.Â
Itâs a small gathering. Logan stands at the grill because itâs where heâs most comfortable, supervising the chaos. That awful mutt of Wadeâs is looking up at him with expectant eyes and, when heâs sure nobody is watching, he throws her a hamburger which she goes crazy for.Â
And itâs⊠nice. He didnât even complain when Wade put on the 1989 album. A few of his old roommateâs friends, a couple of them now mutual - Piotr is a pretty relaxed guy to be in the mansion with, and the two teens who Wade somehow befriended get along with Laura. Youâre talking with Peter who for some reason is always at these gatherings but heâs probably the least offensive person here.Â
He says something which makes you laugh, and you look over to Logan as you both settle. You gesture at the bottle of soda in your hand, an invitation; he nods.Â
You stand, rummage in the cooler, and close the gap. He eyes the glass bottle of Dr Pepper with disapproval; you give him a playful shove.Â
âCâmon, be good. You just got your one month chip. Keep it up, weâre proud of you.â
He grumbles his acceptance and takes it. It is pretty refreshing to be fair. He settled the hand heâs not using on the grill around your waist, pulling you so that you settle nice and snug against his flank. You grin up at him, pleased with the show of affection.
âHey handsome,â you chuckle.Â
âHey gorgeous.â
âYou make me the happiest Iâve ever been, you know that?â
Day by day heâs letting himself believe it. That heâs the kind of man who could make someone as amazing as you happy, as over-the-moon with joy as you make him.Â
Before he can answer Yukio appears by the grill, pointing a Polaroid camera in your faces.Â
âSmile!â she says, and the two of you do, because sheâs a nice kid and you donât wanna let her down. She snaps a photo and watches it quickly develop, shaking it loudly in the air before admiring her work.Â
âAwww, cute! I hope me and Ellie are like you guys when weâre your age. Here ya go!â
She passes over the photo before skipping away to find her next victim. Logan has to try and hide a laugh at the indignant splutters that are escaping you.Â
âOur ageâŠ?!â you mutter, but soften when you look down at the picture. Itâs nice. The two of you make a good-looking pair thatâs for damn sure, he can almost understand Wadeâs insistence of âletting him watch one nightâ. But most importantly, the two of you look⊠happy. With each other. With this slice of life.Â
âThis is a great one,â you declare.Â
âYeah,â he says, but heâs looking at you.Â
When you get home tonight, late by the time you pull up to the mansion, youâll toe off your shoes as you walk in through the door like you always do, but this time youâll pause to put this photo in front of the one you found behind the chest of drawers, and Logan will feel content that he never has to be without you again.Â
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I NEED A SMUT ONE SHOT OF THIS LOGAN I CANT FIND ANY
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pairing: mob boss! Wolverine x mutant!reader
summary: After getting mutant powers, Wade and y/n thought they could save the city from gangsters to be recruited as an avenger. They soon find out that the boss of all the gangsters in the city is a variant who slipped his way into their universe. A new Wolverine, but the worst of them all.
warnings: blood, possessive, animalistic, neck biting, marking, tasting, smut, etc.
note: Logan can't ignore a woman who's just like him.
please message and request us for more of this variant!
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How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because heâs scared of the love he grew for her. Itâll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!
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âHow about we shut the fuck up so we can make it out of here alive, hm?â Y/n asked Wade who kept whispering over to her that he swore he knew the man sitting in the chair.
âHow would you possibly know a mob boss Wade?â She annoyingly asked, thinking he was joking as usual, but after she turned to look at Wade, she noticed how serious he was.
âThatâs the fuckinâ Wolverine,â Wade gasped, noticing the manâs muscles and body structure as well as his hair that stayed up perfectly. Wade was a fanboy and knew from the comics, this had to be a variant of him.
âCâmon, y/n! Weâve had too much shit happen for you to not at least think. Look at him! The man looks exactly like him!â Wade said, as y/n shook her head. Sometimes she regretted teaming up with Wade. This was one of the times.
âGod fuckinâ damn, do I have to prove myself every time I say something!?â Wade said before dropping down to the floor and kicking up into the manâs face.
As the man holding Y/n loosened his grip from the unexpected fight with Wade, y/n turned around, elbowing the man in his face, causing him to knock out next to the other man.
âMister Howlett, Iâve been waiting my whole life to meet you-â Wade said as he walked towards the man who was still facing the pool table. Before Wade could finish his sentence, the man brought out his claws and stabbed Wade in his face.
Y/n gasped loudly as the man pulled back and Wade fell to the ground, groaning in minimal pain.
Y/n charged at the man, hoping heâd stay faced forward so she could end him, but he got up and grabbed Y/n. All in a swift motion, the man turned her around and slammed her on the table, one hand around her neck as the other brought out his claws and strapped her in the gut.
Y/n yelled, feeling the sharp pain, but it quickly went away. Y/n breathed heavily as she looked up, about to throw a punch, but she froze.
âHoly shit,â she said, seeing rare eyes looking down at her. âTold you!â Wade jumped up onto his feet before a few bodyguards pulled him back.
âH-How?â She asked as the man dug deeper into her stomach with a head tilt. The last time he checked, he was the only one to regenerate. How come a man in a red onesie and a pretty young lady heâs never seen before, can do the same as him.
âTake the man to the basement, and her â Get her cleaned and dressed to my liking,â
Y/n looked at the man, confused as well as Wade. âHey, wait! We need to talk!â Wade yelled as the men dragged him away. âDonât worry â We will,â Logan said as he removed his claws from y/n, eyes still burned into her.
Y/n stayed still, looking up at the man she knew was dangerous. He looked dangerously and anyone who knew who Wolverine was, would know he was.
âFascinating,â the man said as he lifted y/nâs tight shirt up, grazing across her wound that healed in seconds. Logan quickly stepped back and snapped his fingers.
Y/n leaned up, getting ready to fight anyone that came near, but she failed as four men grabbed her. Y/n yelped after a sharp pain stuck in her neck. Before she could say anything, she fell out.
Y/m had woken up thirty minutes ago, cleaned, and dressed in some skin-tight silky dress. She had no idea what was going ok and why she had red bottom heels on.
She stayed seated on the bed in the huge room she was locked in before the door finally opened. âSaid, I can handle her, alright? Stop fuckinâ bugginâ me, Bub,â Logan said before shutting the door behind him with a sigh.
âWhereâs Wade?â Y/n asked after seeing blood stains on the manâs white suit. âBeing held,â he replied as he made his way over to the bed she was on. The young lady crawled back onto the bed until her head hit the headboard.
âLet us go, and weâll let you love â For now,â she added, making the man chuckle. âYou canât handle me just because you can regenerate, Bub,â Logan said, now standing on the bed.
âYour little partner told me what you were up to. You thought you could kill me? Serious, y/n?â the man said, making her heart drop. He knew her name. Fuckinâ WadeâŠ
âDonât worry, sweetheart. I wonât hurt you. Youâve got me all wrong,â the man said as he reached out to her. The girl flinched, not knowing what he was going to do until his hand softly touched her skin.
âNo one knows what I do, so if I tell you this, youâll have to promise to keep that pretty mouth closed,â he said, taking a look at her lips.
âD-Depends,â she said as his fingers trailed around her leg. âI had been demoted from these bastards wearing helmets. They tried stickinâ me with something, but I took care of it,â Y/n knew what he meant by that.
âTook one of their devices, and got here. Same world but different. Wanna know how?â He asked, hands close to the bottom of her mid-thigh dress. âWhy?â She asked low.
âBecause pretty girls like you back at home donât come into my space trying to kill me,â he said, slightly scarring the girl. What did she get herself into?
âBut donât worry, Bub. You thought I was one of them, so Iâll let it slide. Iâm not a drug dealer, Iâm not a gun dealer, and I donât kill people unless they demand shit. Usually, theyâre bad,â
âWade isnât bad, and you stabbed the man,â Y/n said, making the man chuckle. âHe was in my face and broke into my home. You gotta understand me on that, princess,â he said, now tracing his hands up her clothed thigh.
âGood, so, now that weâre at some kind of understanding, is like to offer you what I offered your partner,â
âWork with me to keep this place from falling apart. In my last world, I was the bad guy. I was all the things I just told you Iâm not. Iâve changed, and I need more people like me to help,â
Y/n was confused at the sudden change in the man. At first, he seemed like he was going to murder her and Wade in the worst way possible, but now, heâs asking for help.
âAnd if you donât wanna get your pretty hands dirty, you can just be by my side, lookinâ just like that,â he said, slowly hovering over the girl who didnât think of pushing him off.
âHey, your friendâs fine. This isnât his blood. I know it doesnât make it better, but just know, the stranger deserved it â Trust me, princess,â
Y/n didnât know what came over her, but she believed him. Maybe he isnât bad, and heâs just disguising himself like this to move around the safe.
âYou trust me, baby?â He asked as his free hand cupped her chin. âCâmon, Bub â Talk to me,â Logan said as he leaned towards her, lips inches from her. He knew that if she didnât want him on her, she wouldâve done something about it.
âI donât even know you,â Y/n said, feeling her stomach tingle. How is he doing this to her? âThen let me introduce myself,â the man said before softly attacking her lips, instantly forcing his tongue in her mouth.
Y/n moaned low in between their kiss, hating herself for letting a stranger touch her in any kind of way, but it was hard to push him away. The man was intimidating.
âYou donât understand how good it feels to know thereâs someone like me. Especially when they look like you and taste so good,â
Logan hikes the younger lady's dress up until he could fully grab her ass, squeezing until she earned a loud whine. âSoundinâ pretty, Bub,â
Y/n wanted to respond, but the feeling of the manâs teeth softly biting down on her neck stopped her.
Y/nâs hands flew to his shoulders to grip down on as she let out a low whine. The man groaned in her ear before he continued moving his hands down her body.
âYour little friend told me, you and I would get along. He wasnât wrong, Bub,â the man said as he tugged on his dress pants until his cock fell out, rubbing against y/nâs thigh.
âWhat did that bastard tell you?â Y/n asked, trying to control her whine as the man kept nibbling on her neck. He was hungry for the young lady and wasnât afraid to show it.
âSaid youâre a hard ass just like me. Canât listen, do what you want, cuss like a sailor, and need a man to match your energy,â
âSaid youâd scare anyone off, but wouldnât be able to scare me. Seems like you need me as much as I need you,â
Logan pulled Y/nâs panties to the side so he could push at her entrance. âAugh, shit,â the man grunted, feeling the woman grip him instantly.
Y/nâs legs wrapped around the man, tightening to pull him into her so his cock could fill her fast. âFuck, y/n,â the man was shocked at how much she wanted this too.
âAlright, Bub, I got some rules for ya,â the man said as he leaned up, cock still in her, stroking slowly. âI donât want you treatinâ no one with respect. You walk around how I dress you, and make it know youâre with me,â
Y/n traced her hands all over the manâs upper body, even his arms as she listened with lustful eyes.
âGonna need you to stay close to me. Needa keep safe and on my lap, mhkay? Needa keeps my hands on you,â the animal had slipped from Logan. Heâd never felt like this before, but the need to claim her all around was no question after he felt her walls clamp onto him.
âAll fuckinâ mine, and I know I said Ian a bad guy, but if someone pisses you off or makes you emotional in any kind of way â I swear to god, Iâll separate their head from their body,â
Logan had leaned close to Y/nâs face, allowing her to grab his cheeks and rub at them.
âNeed my girl happy. Need her to look good every second of the day. I know you regenerate, but you need me, baby. You need me to protect you from whateverâs out there,â
âPlease take care of me,â y/n said, knowing he meant every word he said. He was claiming her now and will claim her any other chance he can.
After she came into his mansion, acting recklessly, he knew he had to keep her in check and close. There are not many people like them, and no one deserves them. No one deserves her. Only he deserves her, and no one can tell him otherwise.
#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett xmen#logan howlett x reader#logan howlet smut#logan howlett x you#logan howlett smut#dark!logan howlett#dom!logan howlett#james howlett x you#james howlett x reader#james howlett smut#dark!james howlett#dom!james howlett#the worst logan x reader#wolverine x female reader#wolverin smut#wolverine x you#wolverine xmen#wolverine x men#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#james howlett#hugh jackman x you#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman#dark!wolverine#dom!wolverine#x men smut
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Jinx having a gf whoâs touchy and affectionate
requested. @luc1dw0rld
Jinxâs hideout was always filled with chaos, half-finished inventions strewn across every surface, faint scorch marks on the walls, and the constant hum of machinery that never quite worked the way she wanted. But today, it felt different. Calmer, almost peaceful. It wasnât because sheâd finally decided to clean up the mess. She hadnât. It was because of you.
You were sprawled out on her couch, an old, tattered thing sheâd salvaged from a junkyard, but it felt like a throne whenever you were on it. Jinx sat cross-legged on the floor in front of you, tinkering with a grenade sheâd been working on for days. Your legs dangled over the edge of the couch, and every so often, your foot brushed against her shoulder. Each touch, light as it was, sent a warmth through her that she didnât know how to handle.
âYâknow, I think Iâve got this one right this time,â Jinx muttered, her tongue poking out as she focused on the tiny screws and wires in her hands. Her usual frenetic energy was dulled and her movements slower.
âI donât doubt it for a second,â you said from above her. Your voice was soft, laced with the kind of unwavering confidence in her abilities that always made her stomach twist in unfamiliar ways.
She glanced up at you, her eyes wide and unguarded for a split second before she remembered herself and looked away. âPfft. Donât go jinxinâ it, babe,â she said, forcing a smirk as she set the grenade down. But her voice lacked its usual sharp edge, softened by the way you were looking at her.
You slid off the couch and onto the floor beside her, your legs folding neatly under you. âNeed help?â you asked, even though you both knew your technical skills couldnât match hers. It didnât matter. The question wasnât really about the grenade.
Jinx tensed for a moment, her fingers twitching against her thighs. She wasnât used to this. To someone justâŠbeing there. It was a different kind of tension, though. Not the kind that made her fingers itch for a trigger or her mind spiral into chaos. It was much softer.
âNah, Iâm good,â she said, her voice quieter than usual. But she didnât move away when your hand rested lightly on her knee.
You smiled at her, that small, knowing smile that always made her feel like you could see straight through her defenses. âAlright,â you said, leaning back on your hands.
Jinxâs gaze flicked to your hand on her knee, then to your face. She could feel the weight of your affection in the smallest gestures. The way your fingers curled slightly, as if anchoring her in place. It was overwhelming and comforting all at once, a contradiction she couldnât quite wrap her head around.
âYouâre allâŠtouchy, yâknow that?â she said, trying for a teasing tone, but it came out softer than she intended.
âDoes it bother you?â you asked, tilting your head.
Jinx hesitated, her fingers drumming against her leg in a rapid rhythm. âNah. Itâs justâŠweird. Not bad weird. JustâŠweird weird.â
You chuckled, the sound light and easy. âIâll take weird weird.â
She watched as you leaned closer, your fingers brushing a stray strand of blue hair out of her face. The gesture was so gentle, so casual, it made her heart stutter. She wasnât used to people touching her like this. As if she was something fragile, something worth handling with care.
âWhyâre you always doing that?â she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
âDoing what?â
âTouching me. LikeâŠlike that.â
You tilted your head, your expression soft but serious. âBecause I love you, Jinx.â
The words hit her like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, she didnât know what to do with them. Love wasnât something she was good at. It was messy and complicated and full of things she didnât understand. Whenever she was with you, her entire world felt simpler.
She looked away, her cheeks flushing a faint pink. âYouâre such a sap,â she muttered, but there was no bite in her words.
âThat means you like it,â you said, your voice teasing but warm.
She rolled her eyes, but the faint smile tugging at her lips gave her away. âYeah, yeah, donât let it go to your head.â
You didnât respond, just leaned closer until your forehead was resting against hers. Jinx froze, her breath catching in her throat. She could feel the heat of your skin, the steady rhythm of your breathing, and it wasâŠnice.
âYou okay?â you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
âYeah,â she said, her voice shaky but sincere. âJustâŠnot used to this. FeelsâŠweird.â
âWeird weird?â
âYeah. But, likeâŠgood weird.â
You smiled, your hand slipping into hers. Her fingers twitched, hesitant at first, but then they tightened around yours. She didnât say anything, but the way her grip lingered said more than words ever could. For a while, the two of you just sat there, her hand in yours, her forehead still pressed against yours. The chaos of the hideout faded into the background, replaced by a quiet that was rare for her. It wasnât the kind of quiet that came with loneliness. It was the kind of quiet that felt safe. Jinx absolutely loved the time she would spend with you. You are her world.
banner. @anitalenia
#arcane fluff#arcane fanfic#arcane jinx#jinx arcane#jinx x fem!reader#arcane masterlist#arcane fic#arcane x reader#jinx x y/n#jinx x reader#jinx x you#jinx imagine#jinx league of legends#arcane fandom#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane x female reader
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black eye
words: 500
warnings: reader has a black eye from getting punched
taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450
sarah brings you an ice pack wrapped in a towel, eyes wide as they scan your face.
âiâm okay, i promise.â you say, pressing it against your eye, letting out a sigh of relief as the cold soothes your already swollen skin.
ârafe, just take a breath-â you say as he rounds the couch, not failing to notice the way sarah leaves the room while rafes eye is trained on you.
âitâs not you iâm worried about.â sarah laughs, trying to relieve some of the tension. âitâs whoever did this to you when rafe gets his hands on them.â
âwho did what to who?â rafes voice suddenly says from behind you, making you jump.Â
âwho.â is the one word he manages to spit out.
you know the best strategy is to distract him at the moment, quell the anger rising in his gut. âdonât even care to check on me?â you ask with a pout.
rafes chest stops its heaving, eyes turning sad as he kneels in front of you. his hand cups over your own, moving the ice pack away to see your swollen eye, skin beginning to turn purple.Â
âbaby.â he frowns, sliding his hand down to your neck as he turns your head, seeing your bruise from every angle.
âit was an accident.â you say in a whisper.
âas someone who has gotten many black eyes from getting punched, you canât tell me this was just an accident.â heâs right, you got into a foolish argument with some girls, and one of them punched you square in the face. thankfully, sarah found you before too much worse could happen.
âcan we just not talk about this, youâre making my head hurt.â you say, putting the ice back over your eye.
âyour head hurts?â rafe asks, moving his hands to squeeze your knees, needing to feel you in some way. âwe should take you to the doctors.â
ânooo.â you say. âiâm not going to the freaking doctors. can we just go lay down in your bed? i think cuddles would cure me.â
rafe sighs, dropping his head down. he presses a few scattering kisses to your thighs before looking up and nodding. you know instantly that rafe isnât going to let you even walk by yourself, letting him lift you up and carry you to his bedroom.
rafe nods, taking a deep, calming breath and laying down next to you. you snuggle up next to him as soon as his back is against the sheets. rafe opens his arms to you, letting you put the uninjured side of your face against his chest.
he sets you carefully down on his bed, already beginning to fuss over you, âis your ice pack still cold enough? do you want to get changed? did you get hurt anywhere else?â
âshh, rafe.â you giggle, grabbing his hand and tugging on it, signaling that you want him in bed next to you. âjust cuddles, babe.â
âbabe.â he says after a minute. âcan you just appreciate how fucking calm im being?âÂ
âmhm, iâm so proud of you.â you say, patting his chest.
#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fic#rafe fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fanfic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron one shot#rafe angst#rafe cameron angst#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron x y/n#obx#rafe one shot
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ïč đŹ ïč ââââTO ALL THE BOYS IâVE LOVED BEFORE.
SYPNOSiS. you and park sunghoon were close friends until high school changed things. when your best friend began dating him, you realized your feelings for sunghoon ran deeper than friendshipâa letter you wrote a long time ago makes its way to park sunghoon, what will happen when he asks you to fake date him? could you ignore your past feelings or will this go horribly wrong.. INSPIRED BY TATBILB.
àšà§ PAiRING. ex-bestfriendâs ex boyfriend! park sunghoon x fem! reader, jock! sunghoon x academic! reader.
àšà§ GENRE. highschool romance, fake dating, mostly fluff, very minimal angst. non!idol au. she fell first, he fell harder, happy ending!!
àšà§ WARNiNGS. profanities, kissing, karina being annoying ngl.. yn being indecisive, overthinking, not proofread.
àšà§ WORD COUNT. 10,456 / 10.4K
đđđđŹđiđŠđ§ ïč i like me better, lauv, goodnight n go, ariana grande, boyfriend, ariana grande, new romantics, taylor swift, somebody to you, the vamps, fine line, harry styles, japanese denim, daniel caesar.
NOTE. thank u guys sm for all the support on the teaser!! iâm not too happy with this but i hope u guys enjoy reading this ^^ i literally love the movies sm so i HAD to write smt for tatbilb âïžđ€ i strongly recommend reading the teaser before this!!
LiBRARY | © WON4KISS all rights reserved
ITâS JUST AN ORDINARY AFTERNOON, OR SO YOU THINK.
youâre in your room, organizing the clutter on your desk thatâs been piling up for yearsâold notebooks, random receipts, ticket stubs from movies you donât even remember watching.
a wave of nostalgia hits as you sift through bits and pieces of your pastâburied beneath a pile of loose papers, you find it: the letter. that letter.
the one you wrote to park sunghoon all those years ago.
your breath catches in your throat as you stare at the crinkled envelope, your heart beating faster as memories rush back. youâd almost forgotten about itâalmost.
with your hands trembling, you pick up the letter, reading the words scribbled across the front.
his name, written in your messy handwriting, brings back a flood of feelings you thought youâd buried for good.
this letter holds all the emotions you couldnât say out loud. itâs a part of youâa vulnerable, painful part that youâve kept locked away for years.
youâre tempted to rip it apart, to destroy it like you should have back then.
but before you can make a decision, your phone buzzes on the desk beside you.
a message notification from your younger siblingâwhoâs supposed to be helping with errandsâpulls your attention away.
âhey, can you drop off the mail for me? i left a bunch of letters on the kitchen counter. thanks!â
you groan, glancing at the clockâyou donât really have the time to run errands right now, but you suppose it wonât take long.
tossing the letter back into the pile, you get up, grab the stack of letters from the kitchen, and head to the mailbox.
the evening air is cool, and you take a deep breath, trying to clear your head.
itâs just a letter, you remind yourself. itâs in the pastâsunghoon is in the past. he and karina are in the past.
you drop the letters into the mailbox without a second thought.
it isnât until much laterâwhen youâre getting ready for bedâthat the realization hits you like a punch to the gut.
the letterâsunghoonâs letter.
panic floods your chest as you bolt upright, your heart pounding in your ears.
you scramble to your desk, frantically shuffling through the papers, looking for the envelope. but itâs not there. itâs gone.
you feel sick.
âno, no, noâŠâ you whisper to yourself, your mind racing in denial.
you couldnât have misplaced it could you?
you had placed it in the pile, the pile you just dropped into the mailbox. the letterâthe one meant for no oneâis on its way to park sunghoon.
the next morning, youâre a mess.
you hardly slept, your mind replaying every worst-case scenario over and over.
whatâs going to happen when sunghoon reads the letter? will he think youâre some weirdo still pining after him? will he laugh at how pathetic you must seem?
you canât stop the panic from rising, no matter how much you try to calm yourself down.
by the time youâre at school, you feel like a bundle of nerves, anxiety if it were a physical form.
you avoid everyone, keeping your head low as you rush to your first class, hoping to make it through the day unnoticed.
but fate doesnât seem to care about your plans.
youâre at your locker, rifling through your books, when you feel someone approach you from behind.
the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. slowly, you turn around, and your stomach dropsâ park sunghoon is standing right there.
his tall figure leans casually against the lockers, his eyes locked on yours, unreadable.
youâve seen that cool, calm expression a million times before, but now it makes your palms sweat.
âhey,â he says, his voice smooth and silky, just like always.
you blink, trying to keep your expression neutral. âohâŠhey, sunghoon.â
heâs quiet for a moment, and the tension in the air thickensâyou can tell heâs holding something back.
finally, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the letter. your letter.
âsoâuh..i got this in the mail yesterday.â
your blood runs cold as your eyes lock onto the familiar envelope in his hand. the world feels like itâs tilting, and all you can think is, this isnât happening. this canât be happening.
âi wasnât expecting something like this,â he says, raising an eyebrow, his voice laced with a mix of amusement and curiosity. âyou wanna explain?â
you open your mouth, but no words come out.
what are you even supposed to say? that it was a mistake? that you didnât mean to send it? that the feelings you wrote about years ago were just a phase, long since forgotten?
sunghoon waits, watching you with that calm, intense gaze that makes your pulse race.
heâs not giving anything away, not yet. you canât tell if heâs mad or confused or if heâs just messing with you.
but you know one thing: heâs not letting this go.
finally, you manage to speak. âi⊠i didnât mean for you to see that.â
sunghoon tilts his head, looking intrigued. âno?â
âno,â you say quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. âit was a long time ago. i wrote itâŠa while back. i never meant to send it.â
thereâs a flicker of something in his eyesâsurprise, maybe?âbut he doesnât let it show for long. âsoâŠyou donât feel this way anymore?â
you freeze.
how do you even answer that? the truth isâŠcomplicatedâyou hadnât thought about those feelings for a long time, at least not consciously.
you thought you were over itâover him. but now, standing here with him holding your deepest secrets in his hands, all those old emotions are bubbling up to the surface, making you second-guess everything.
âiâŠâ you start, but the words stick in your throat.
sunghoon watches you closely, his gaze sharp and focused. itâs the same look he used to give you when you were younger, the look that said he could see right through you.
he always knew when something was bothering you. he always knew you.
âyou donât have to answer right now,â he says, his voice softer than before. âbutâŠwe need to talk about this. you canât just drop something like this on me and expect me to ignore it.â
you nod, feeling your stomach churnâyou donât trust yourself to speak, so you stay silent, hoping the ground will open up and swallow you whole.
but sunghoon doesnât move. he just keeps standing there, holding the letter between his fingers, as if waiting for something.
then, as if sensing your discomfort, he sighs and folds the letter, tucking it back into his jacket.
âlook, y/n,â he says, his tone more relaxed now, âiâm not mad or anything. itâs justâŠunexpected.â
you nod again, your throat dry.
sunghoon pushes off the lockers, taking a step closer, his presence is overwhelming, making your heart race.
âweâll figure this out,â he says, his voice low and steady. âbut for now, letâs justâŠtalk later. after school?â
you swallow hard, nodding once more. âyeah. after school.â
he gives you a small, reassuring smile before turning and walking down the hallway, leaving you standing there, dazed and overwhelmed.
your mind is spinning, replaying everything that just happened, and all you can think is: what now?
the day feels like a blur after your confrontation with sunghoon.
every class drags on as your mind races through every possible outcome of that letter being in his hands.
when you get called on during your calculus class, you barely manage a coherent answer, your usual sharpness dulled by the storm in your head.
normally, being the top student in your classâthe one everyone goes to for homework help or notesâgives you some confidence.
but right now, nothing seems to calm your nervesânot even acing the quiz thatâs handed back to you.
all you can think about is what sunghoon wants to âtalk aboutâ after school.
youâre already dreading it when the final bell rings.
as you head toward the meeting spotâoutside the gym, where you know sunghoon will be after practiceâyou canât stop the tight knot forming in your stomach.
the hallway buzzes with activity, people passing by in crowdsâathletes are huddled in groups, chatting loudly about the upcoming game, and among them is sunghoonâblending in perfectly.
heâs talking to his friends, tall and confident in his varsity jacket, his hair slightly messy from practice.
the sight of him makes your chest tightenâheâs the type of guy who seems to have it all: popularity, athletic skill, and that natural charm that draws people in.
you, on the other hand, are the complete oppositeâknown for your academics rather than your social life.
the two of you havenât even spoken in years, not since that rift grew between you after his breakup with karina.
and now, youâre about to dive into a conversation that could make things a hundred times more awkward.
you stand a few feet away, hesitating, until sunghoon notices you.
he gives you a small, almost secret smile, and breaks away from his group, leaving his teammates behind.
âhey,â he says casually, as if the two of you talk every day.
you manage a shaky smile. âhey.â
sunghoon gestures for you to follow him around the corner, where itâs quieter, away from the lingering crowd.
the tension between you is thick, and the air feels charged with unspoken things.
you hug your books closer to your chest, trying to find the right words, but itâs sunghoon who speaks first.
âi thought about what you said earlier,â he starts, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.
his expression is serious, but not in an intimidating wayâmore like heâs trying to work through something in his head.
âand i get that the letter was from a long time ago, butâŠi think thereâs something we could both get out of this.â
your brows knit in confusion. âwhat do you mean?â sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair.
âlook, ever since the breakup with karina, iâve been getting a lot ofâŠquestions. people keep assuming things, especially with you being involved, since you were friends with her. itâs getting annoying.â
you frown, not liking where this is going. âwhat kind of things?â
he shrugs, but his eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. âpeople think youâre the reason we broke up.â
your heart skips a beat. âwhatâme?â
âyeah,â he says, his tone casual, but you can see the weight behind his words. âthereâs this rumor that i broke up with her because of you. that we had thisâŠthing going on behind her back.â
you canât believe what youâre hearing. âthatâs ridiculous. i barely even talked to you after you guys got together.â
âi know,â he says, his eyes softening. âbut you know how high school is. people talk.â
you groan, rubbing your temple. this is exactly the kind of drama youâve always tried to avoid, keeping your head down and focusing on school.
âsoâŠwhat does this have to do with the letter?â
sunghoon straightens up, his gaze sharp. âi think we can use this to our advantage.â
âuseâŠwhat?â you ask, your voice wary.
he gestures between the two of you. âthe rumors. the letter. look, if people already think there was something between us, then why not just lean into it? we could pretend to date for a while. itâd shut people up, and i wouldnât have to keep explaining myself to every person who asks about karina. and maybe itâll get people off your back too.â
you blink at him, processing his words. âyou want to pretend to date? likeâŠfake dating?â
he nods like an excited puppy, as if itâs the most logical solution in the world. âexactly. itâd be easier for both of us. weâd keep it simpleâjust enough to make people believe it.â
your mind reels at the suggestionâyouâve seen this happen in movies, read about it in books, but this is real life.
and the idea of pretending to date sunghoon feelsâŠabsurd. sure, it might get people to stop talking about karina and his breakup, but what about you?
youâve spent years keeping your feelings buried, and now he wants to parade around as if youâre together? that sounds like a recipe for disaster.
âsunghoon,â you start, your voice cautious, âi donât think thatâs a good idea.â
âwhy not?â he asks, looking genuinely confused.
âbecause itâsâŠweird,â you say, struggling to find the right words. âwe havenât even been friends for years. what makes you think anyone would believe weâre suddenly dating?â
he smirks, leaning in slightly. âbecause we used to be close. people know that. it wouldnât be that much of a stretch.â
you bite your lip, still unconvinced. âbutâŠwhatâs the point? i mean, wonât it just make things worse when people find out itâs fake?â
he shrugs again, that easygoing confidence still radiating from him. âmaybe. but by then, it wonât matter. theyâll have moved on to the next piece of gossip. besides, itâs not like weâd have to keep it up forever. just long enough for things to blow over.â
you hesitate, your mind spinning with possibilities.
on one hand, the thought of faking a relationship with sunghoon makes your stomach churn with anxiety.
but on the other handâŠit could solve a lot of problemsâmaybe it would keep people from asking about karina.
maybe it would give you a chance to finally move past all the old feelings that have been resurfacing ever since the letter.
but itâs risky. too risky.
âi donât know,â you say, your voice uncertain.
sunghoon watches you for a moment, then steps closer, lowering his voice.
âlook, i know itâs a lot to ask, but think about it. this could be good for both of us. you wouldnât have to keep dodging questions about karina, and i wouldnât have to deal with everyone assuming things about us. plus,â he adds with a slight smirk, âit might even be fun.â
you give him a skeptical look as you scoff in disbelief. âfun?â
he grins, that playful glint in his eyes you remember so well from years ago.
âyeah. i mean, we used to be friends, right? itâs not like we donât know how to get along. we can make it believable.â
thereâs something in the way heâs looking at you, that spark of the old sunghoonâthe boy who used to make you laugh, who used to confide in you late at night during sleepovers, before everything got complicated.
for a moment, youâre reminded of how easy things used to be between you two. how natural it felt.
maybeâŠjust maybe, this could work.
you take a deep breath, weighing your optionsâitâs crazy. itâs beyond risky, but it might be the only way to fix this mess.
and if itâs just pretending, then whatâs the harm? youâll just have to keep your real feelings locked awayâlike you always have.
âokay,â you say finally, your voice steady. âletâs do it.â
sunghoonâs smile widens, and for a brief moment, you feel like youâve made the right choice. he holds out his hand. âdeal?â
you hesitate for just a second before shaking his hand. âdeal.â
the next few days pass in a whirlwind of rumors, whispers, and carefully orchestrated moments.
word spreads fast that you and sunghoon are dating, and the school is buzzing with curiosity.
everyone seems to have their eyes on youâespecially since youâre not exactly part of his social circle.
the jock and the ânerdâ, the golden boy and the brainiacâitâs a combination that no one saw coming.
but you and sunghoon play the part well, you walk together in the hallways, sit next to each other during lunch, and even hang out after school for the occasional âstudy session.â to everyone else, it looks like the real deal.
youâre careful to keep things light and casual, just like sunghoon said.
no hand-holding or public displays of affectionâjust enough closeness to make it believable.
but as the days go by, you start to notice little thingsâthe way sunghoon looks at you sometimes, his eyes lingering a bit too long.
the way he laughs at your jokes, even the ones that arenât particularly funny. and the way your heart skips a beat whenever he smiles at you.
itâs all pretend, of course. it has to beâbut sometimesâŠit feels too real.
as the days turn into weeks, the fake dating plan takes on a life of its own.
you and sunghoon settle into a routine of sortsâwalking to class together, sharing lunch, and spending time after school.
itâs strange at first, pretending to be something youâre not, but soon it becomes almost second nature.
youâre surprised at how easy it is to fall into this rhythm with him, despite everything thatâs happened between you, thereâs a familiarity that lingers, reminding you of how things used to be when you were best friends.
sometimes, when youâre alone with him, it almost feels like no time has passed at all.
but thatâs the problem, isnât it? itâs too easy. too comfortable. and thatâs when the lines start to blur.
it starts with the small things. like how he goes out of his way to find you in the mornings before school.
at first, itâs just part of the planâhe says you need to be seen togetherâbut then it becomes something more.
his texts in the evenings arenât just about âkeeping up appearancesâ anymore; theyâre full of little comments about your day, things that make you smile when youâre lying in bed at night, staring at your phone.
and then there are the moments when he touches you.
itâs never anything big or obviousâjust his hand brushing against yours as you walk, or his arm slung casually around your shoulder when youâre sitting together during lunch.
each touch sends sparks through your skin, leaving you wondering if he feels it too.
but the biggest change comes one afternoon after school.
youâre sitting in the library, books spread out in front of you as you try to focus on an upcoming exam.
youâve always been good at studyingâquiet places like this are your sanctuaryâbut today, your mind is elsewhere.
youâre thinking about sunghoon, about the sparkle in his eyes when he looks at you, and how itâs making it harder to remember that this is all just pretend.
the sound of footsteps approaching snaps you out of your thoughts.
you glance up to see sunghoon walking toward you, that familiar soft smile on his face.
âhey,â he says, sliding into the seat across from you.
you raise an eyebrow. âyou do realize this is the library, right? i thought jocks werenât allowed in here.â
he chuckles, leaning back in his chair. âiâm full of surprises. besides, i thought you might need a break.â
you roll your eyes, but you canât help the small smile that creeps onto your face. âiâm studying, hoon. you know, that thing people do when they want to pass their classes?â
he shrugs, clearly unconcerned. âyeah, but youâre already the smartest person in school. you can afford to take a break.â
you sigh, closing your book. âi canât believe iâm saying this, but fine. what do you want?â
he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. thereâs something different in his eyes todayâsomething softer.
âi was thinking we should go to the movies this weekend.â
you blink in surprise. âthe movies?â
âyeah. you know, that place where people go to sit in the dark and pretend theyâre not awkwardly sitting next to strangers?â
you narrow your eyes at him in suspicion. âwhy?â
he shrugs again, but thereâs a playful glint in his eye. âwhy not? weâre supposed to be dating, right? might as well go on an actual date.â
you hesitate, your heart racing. âsunghoon, this was supposed to be lowkey. we agreed we wouldnât do anything that would make it seem⊠too real.â
he raises an eyebrow. âitâs just a movie. weâre not getting married or anything.â
you bite your lip, feeling a strange feeling of excitement and anxiety building in your chest.
the idea of going on a date with sunghoonâeven a fake oneâmakes your stomach do flips.
but you remind yourself that this is all part of the plan. itâs not real. it canât be.
âokay,â you say finally. âbut donât expect me to share my popcorn.â
he grins, his smile lighting up his face. âdeal.â
the weekend comes faster than you expected, and before you know it, youâre standing in front of the movie theater, feeling more nervous than youâve felt in a long time.
you canât figure out whyâthis is just a fake date, after all.
but thereâs something about the way sunghoon looks when he arrives, wearing a casual jacket and that effortless smile, that makes your heart skip a beat.
âyou ready?â he asks, his eyes glinting with amusement.
you nod, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. âyeah. letâs get this over with.â
sunghoon laughs and leads you inside, where you buy tickets and snacks.
youâre still trying to act nonchalant when you sit down in the theater, but the darkness and the closeness between you make it harder to ignore the way your body reacts to his presence.
his arm brushes against yours as he settles into his seat, and you can feel the heat radiating from him.
the movie starts, but you barely pay attention.
your mind is too busy racing through thoughts of sunghoonâhow close he is, how easy it would be to just lean into himâyour heart pounds in your chest, and you silently curse yourself for letting things get this far.
and then, halfway through the movie, it happens.
sunghoon shifts in his seat, and without thinking, his hand finds yours in the darkness.
his fingers curl around yours, gentle and warm, and for a moment, you freezeâyour heart feels like itâs about to burst out of your chest.
you glance at him, but his eyes are focused on the screen, as if this is the most natural thing in the world.
as if holding your hand wasnât something that would send your mind spiraling.
you tell yourself to pull away, to remind him that this is fakeâthat this canât mean anythingâbut you donât.
you let your hand stay in his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, and for the rest of the movie, you donât move.
the walk home is quieter than usual, you and sunghoon walk side by side, but thereâs a new kind of tension between you.
neither of you mention the hand-holding, and youâre not sure if itâs because youâre both trying to pretend it didnât happen, or if youâre both too afraid to bring it up.
when you reach your house, you stop at the front door, turning to face him. âthanks for the movie,â you say, your voice soft.
sunghoon smiles, but thereâs something different in his eyesâsomething you canât quite read. âanytime.â
for a moment, you just stand there, unsure of what to do nextâthereâs a beat of silence, and then, before you can stop yourself, you speak.
âsunghoonâŠthis is all still pretend, right?â
he looks at you, his expression unreadable. âof course.â
you nod, forcing a smile. âgood. just wanted to make sure.â
but as you turn to go inside, you canât shake the feeling that something has changed. something you might not be able to control.
the next week is filled with more of the same tension.
every time you and sunghoon are together, it feels like the air is charged with something you canât quite define.
the lines between whatâs real and whatâs fake are starting to blur, and you canât stop thinking about the way his hand felt in yours.
you know you shouldnât be thinking like this.
this was all supposed to be an actâa way to get people off your backsâbut now, with every passing day, itâs becoming harder to keep up the facade.
youâre starting to wonder if maybe, just maybe, thereâs something more going on here, maybe he feels the same way.
and then, one afternoon after school, everything changes.
youâre at your locker, packing up your things, when you hear footsteps approaching.
you glance up to see karina standing a few feet away, her arms crossed and her eyes fixed on you.
your heart sinks.
itâs the first time youâve seen her in months, and the look on her face is anything but friendly.
âwe need to talk,â she says, her voice cold.
you swallow hard, nodding slowly. âokay.â
karina steps closer, her eyes narrowing. âwhat the hell is going on between you and sunghoon?â
you freeze, your mind racingâyouâve been so caught up in your fake relationship that you havenât even thought about how this might look to karina.
sheâs your ex-best friend, after allâand sunghoon is her ex.
âiâŠi donât know what you mean,â you stammer, but karina isnât buying it.
âdonât play dumb,â she snaps. âi know somethingâs going on. youâre always together now. youâre even going on dates.â
you open your mouth to deny it, to explain that itâs all just pretend, but the words die in your throat.
how are you supposed to explain something like this? that youâre fake dating her ex to get people to stop talking about the breakup? that itâs all just a lie?
but before you can say anything, karina cuts you off.
âjustâŠtell me the truth,â she says, her voice softer now. âare you in love with him?â
the question hits you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you canât breathe.
the answer should be simpleâno, itâs all fake. but as you stand there, looking into karinaâs eyes, you realize that you donât know the answer anymore.
and that terrifies you.
karinaâs question hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating, the hallway suddenly feels too small, the walls closing in around you.
your mind races, trying to figure out how to respond.
youâve spent so long convincing yourselfâand everyone elseâthat this relationship with sunghoon is fake, but now youâre not so sure.
youâre not in love with him⊠right? you canât be. this is just pretend. it has to be.
but when you look at karina, her eyes full of hurt and suspicion, something twists in your chest.
you didnât want to hurt herâyes, it was her who cut you off, but you still cared for her deeply.
you didnât want to make things complicated, but now, everything feels like itâs spinning out of control.
âiâŠâ your voice cracks, and you bite your lip, struggling to find the words. âkarina, itâs not like that.â
she narrows her eyes, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. âthen what is it like? because from where iâm standing, it looks like youâve been sneaking around with sunghoon behind my back.â
you shake your head quickly. âno, no. itâs not like that at all. weâre notââ you stop, realizing that you canât just blurt out the truth.
that itâs all fake. it would make everything worse, wouldnât it? how could karina understand that this whole thing started as a way to avoid drama? you know you need to tread carefully.
âweâre not sneaking around,â you say finally, choosing your words carefully. âit just kind ofâŠhappened. but itâs not what you think.â
karinaâs expression softens for a moment, and she looks at you with a mix of confusion and hurt.
âthen what is it? were you planning this while we were friends? i thought we were friends back then. best friends.â
you flinch at her words, the guilt hitting you hardâthere was a time when you and karina were inseparable, when she was the one you confided in about everythingâexcept your feelings for sunghoon.
and thatâs what ruined everything, isnât it? you never told her how you felt about him. you kept it buried, hoping it would disappear, but it didnât.
âi didnât want to hurt you,â you say quietly. âi never meant for any of this to happen. after you and sunghoon broke up, i thought⊠i thought it wouldnât matter anymore.â
karina lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.
âwell, it does matter. and now iâm stuck watching my ex-boyfriend and my ex-best friend play house together like none of it ever meant anything.â
her words sting, and for a moment, you donât know how to respond.
part of you wants to explain everythingâto tell her that this was all just fake, that none of it is real.
but thereâs another part of you, a part thatâs starting to realize that maybe, thereâs more truth to this fake relationship than you want to admit.
before you can say anything else, karina steps back, her face hardening. âjustâŠdo me a favor, okay? be honest with yourself. if youâre in love with him, own it. donât pretend itâs all some game. because itâs not.â
with that, she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest.
you spend the rest of the day in a daze, karinaâs words echoing in your mind.
be honest with yourselfâhow are you supposed to do that when you donât even know whatâs real anymore?
sunghoon hasnât said anything about the way things have been between you lately, but you can feel itâthe shift.
the way he looks at you differently, the way his touches linger just a little too long, the way he seems to genuinely care about whatâs going on in your life.
itâs more than just pretending nowâat least for you.
but the big question for you is: does he feel the same way? or is this all in your head?
later that evening, youâre sitting in your room, staring blankly at your textbooks, when your phone buzzes on the deskâitâs a message from sunghoon.
âwanna grab ice cream? need a break from all this studying.â
you hesitate, staring at the screen, the last thing you want is to spend time with him right now, not when everything feels so confusing.
but part of you knows that avoiding him wonât solve anythingâif anything, you need to confront this head-on.
you need to figure out whatâs going on between you, whether itâs real or not.
âsure,â you text back, your heart thudding in your chest.
the ice cream parlor is quiet when you arrive, the soft buzzing of the freezer and the scent of sugar filling the air.
sunghoon is already there, sitting at a booth in the corner with two cones in front of him.
he grins when he sees you, waving you over.
âi got your favorite,â he says, pushing a cone of double scooped strawberry ice-cream towards you.
you smile, sliding into the booth across from him. âthanks.â
for a moment, everything feels normal again. the two of you sit there, eating ice cream and talking about nothing in particularâschool, classes, his upcoming game.
itâs easy, comfortable, just like it used to beâbut underneath the surface, thereâs something simmering, something thatâs been building for weeks.
you decide to break the silence, you couldnât avoid this conversation any longer.
âsunghoon,â you say, setting your cone down. âwe need to talk.â
he raises an eyebrow, but thereâs no surprise in his eyes. itâs like heâs been expecting this.
âabout what?â he asks, though you can tell he already knows what youâre going to say.
you take a deep breath, your fingers fiddling with the napkin in front of you. âabout⊠us.â
sunghoon leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.
his expression is unreadable, but thereâs a stiffness in his posture that wasnât there before.
âwhat about us?â he asks, his voice quiet.
you hesitate, trying to find the right words. âthis whole fake dating thing⊠itâs starting to feel like more than just a game.â
his eyes flicker with somethingâsurprise? amusement? you canât tell.
âgo on,â he says, his voice softer now.
you bite your lip, the words catching in your throat. âi guess what iâm trying to say is⊠i donât know if i can keep pretending. itâs getting harder to tell whatâs real and whatâs not.â
there. youâve said it. youâve put everything out in the open, and now all you can do is wait for his response.
for a moment, sunghoon is silent, his eyes locked on yoursâthe tension between you is almost unbearable, the air thick with unspoken words.
finally, he lets out a soft sigh, leaning forward.
âiâve been thinking the same thing,â he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
your heart skips a beat, and for a moment, you think youâve misheard him. âyou have?â
he nods, his eyes searching yours. âyeah. at first, this was just supposed to be for show, but⊠i donât know. it doesnât feel fake anymore. not to me, at least.â
your breath catches in your throat. âso⊠what does that mean?â
sunghoon reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. his touch is warm, steady, and it sends a jolt of electricity through you.
âi think it means that maybe we should stop pretending,â he says softly. âand figure out what this really is.â
you stare at him, your mind racing. is this really happening? is sunghoonâyour fake boyfriend, your old best friend, karinaâs exâactually saying that he wants something real?
âare you sure?â you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
he smiles, that familiar playful glint in his eyes. âyeah, pretty. iâm sure.â
the rest of the evening passes in a blur.âyou and sunghoon talkâreally talkâfor the first time in weeks, peeling back the layers of your fake relationship and exposing the real feelings that have been hiding underneath.
it feels strange, scary even, to admit that youâve both developed feelings for each other. but it also feelsâŠright.
when he walks you home later that night, the air between you is light, free of the tension thatâs been building for so long.
as you stand on your front porch, thereâs a moment of hesitationâan awkward pause where neither of you knows what to do next.
but then, without saying a word, sunghoon steps closer, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear with a soft glint in his eyes.
your breath hitches, your heart pounding in your chest as his fingers linger against your skin.
and then, before you can stop yourself, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his.
the kiss is soft, hesitant at first, but it quickly deepens, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer.
itâs like everything youâve been holding backâthe tension, the uncertainty, the feelings youâve been too afraid to admitâfinally breaks free.
when you finally pull away, youâre both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.
âthat didnât feel fake,â he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.
you laugh softly, your hands still resting against his chest. âno. it didnât.â
the next morning, you wake up with a strange sense of peace.
for the first time in weeks, you donât feel like youâre pretendingâyou donât have to put on a show anymore, donât have to act like your feelings for sunghoon are anything less than real.
but as you get ready for school, thereâs still a small voice in the back of your mindâa nagging worry about what happens next.
how will people react when they find out that your âfakeâ relationship has turned real? and more importantlyâŠhow will karina take it?
you push those thoughts aside as you walk into school, determined not to let anything ruin the fragile happiness youâve found with sunghoon.
but as soon as you step into the hallway, you realize that avoiding the truth isnât going to be that easy.
because standing by your locker, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, is karina yet again.
the moment you see karina standing at your locker, your heart drops.
her arms are crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes narrowed in a way that tells you she knows.
she knows that whatever you had with sunghoon, fake or not, is no longer just a game.
thereâs no avoiding this confrontation nowâyouâve already crossed the line, and karina is here to make you deal with the fallout.
you brace yourself for whatâs to come, walking toward her with your head held high.
inside, though, your stomach twists into knotsâyouâve always hated confrontation, and this one feels worse than any argument youâve ever had before.
âhi,â you say cautiously when you reach her, trying to sound calm.
but karinaâs face is unreadable, her eyes cold as they lock onto yours.
âso are you two serious now?â she asks, her voice flat, devoid of emotion.
you flinch, feeling the weight of her words hit youâyou expected her to be angry, maybe even furious, but thisâthis quiet, detached version of karinaâis worse.
itâs like sheâs shutting down, not giving you a chance to explain or apologize.
you take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. âkarina, i didnât plan for any of this to happen. it justââ
âit just what?â she cuts you off, her voice rising slightly. âit just happened? you didnât plan on falling for him, but you did anyway?â
you bite your lip, unsure of what to sayâsheâs right. you didnât plan for any of this, but that doesnât make it any less painful for her.
and it doesnât make you feel any less guilty.
âi really didnât want to hurt you,â you say softly, but the words feel empty, even to you.
karina lets out a bitter laugh, shaking her head.âyou know, for a long time, i thought we could go back to how things used to be. that we could justâŠmove past everything. but i guess i was wrong.â
she looks at you, her eyes filled with disappointment. âi thought you were my best friend. but youâve been hiding this the whole time, you didnât even have the decency to tell me that you saw him that way.â
your heart clenches painfully in your chest. âkarina, i wasnât lying. i didnât knowââ
âdidnât know what?â she snaps. âthat you had feelings for sunghoon? that you were using him to make me jealous? or did you just not care about how iâd feel once you finally admitted the truth?â
tears sting the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to break down here, in the middle of the hallway.
âpleaseâit wasnât like that, i swear.â
karina stares at you for a long moment, her expression softening slightly. âmaybe it wasnât. but it doesnât matter anymore. you made your choice.â
with that, she turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, a hollow ache settling in your chest.
you want to run after her, to fix things, but you know deep down that this isnât something that can be fixed with an apology.
youâve lost her for good nowâyour best friendâand you donât know if youâll ever get her back.
later that day, youâre sitting with sunghoon at lunch, but the usual lightness between you is gone.
youâre distracted, your mind still replaying the conversation with karina over and overâyou canât stop thinking about what she said, about how badly youâve hurt her.
sunghoon notices. he always does.
âyou okay?â he asks, leaning closer to you, his voice low and concerned.
you nod, but itâs a lie. âyeah, iâm fine.â
he doesnât believe you, of course. âcome on, donât lie to me. i can tell somethingâs bothering you.â
you let out a sigh, pushing your food around on your tray without eating. âi talked to karina this morning. sheâsâŠnot okay with us. with whatâs happening.â
sunghoon frowns, his expression turning serious. âwhat did she say?â
you shake your head, trying to brush it off. âsheâs justâŠhurt. i donât blame her. iâd feel the same way if i were in her shoes.â
sunghoon is quiet for a moment, his eyes flickering with something you canât quite place.
âso what does that mean? do you want to stop? end this?â
the question takes you by surprise, and for a moment, you donât know how to answer.
do you want to stop? would that make things better with karina? or would it just make everything worse?
âi donât know,â you admit, your voice small. âi just donât want to hurt her anymore.â
sunghoonâs jaw tightens, and you can see the tension building in his posture.
heâs frustrated, but heâs holding it backâfor now. âso you want to throw everything away because karinaâs upset? what about us?â
the words hang in the air, and you feel a lump form in your throatâheâs right. itâs not just about karina anymore.
itâs about you and himâand whatever this thing between you has become.
but how do you choose between someone you loved as a friend and someone you might be falling for?
âi donât want to throw anything away,â you say quietly. âbut i donât know how to fix this.â
sunghoon runs a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. âlook, i get that karinaâs your friend, or at least she was, but we canât keep pretending like we owe her something. we didnât do anything wrong. she broke up with me, not the other way around.â
his words make sense, but they donât take away the guilt gnawing at you. âi know, butââ
âbut what?â he snaps, cutting you off. âare you going to let her decide how we live our lives? is that what this is about?â
you flinch at his tone, the sudden harshness in his voice catching you off guard. âno, of course not. i justâŠi didnât think things would get this complicated.â
sunghoon lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. âwell, guess what? things are complicated. thatâs life. but you canât just run away every time something gets difficult.â
his words sting, and you feel a surge of defensiveness rise in your chest.
âiâm not running away,â you snap, your voice sharper than you intended. âiâm just trying to figure out how to do the right thing.â
âand whatâs the right thing, huh?â sunghoon challenges, his eyes flashing with frustration.
âbecause from where iâm standing, it seems like youâre more worried about what karina thinks than what we have.â
you open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat.
you donât know how to explain itâhow torn you feel between your loyalty to karina and your growing feelings for sunghoon.
it feels like no matter what you do, someone is going to get hurt.
âmaybe we rushed into this,â you say softly, the words barely audible.
sunghoonâs expression hardens. âso what are you saying? you want to call it quits? pretend like none of this ever happened?â
you bite your lip, hating the way his words cut into you. âi donât know, sunghoon. i just need time to think.â
thereâs a long pause, and you can feel the weight of his disappointment pressing down on you. finally, he stands up, grabbing his bag from the floor.
âtake all the time you need,â he says coldly. âbut donât expect me to wait around forever.â
and with that, he walks away, leaving you sitting there alone, the ache in your chest growing deeper by the second.
the next few days are tortureâsunghoon barely speaks to you, and when he does, itâs short and distant, like heâs putting up a wall between you.
itâs painful, watching the person youâve grown so close to suddenly shut you out.
and as much as you want to talk to him, to apologize, youâre not sure if you even know how to fix things.
karinaâs words still haunt you, and the guilt you feel for hurting her hasnât gone away.
but now, thereâs something elseâsomething worse. the fear that youâve lost sunghoon, too.
itâs late one evening, after another day of tense silences and awkward interactions, that you decide you canât take it anymore.
you grab your phone, your fingers hovering over sunghoonâs contactâfor a moment, you hesitate, your heart pounding in your chest.
what if he doesnât want to talk? what if heâs already decided that itâs over?
but you canât keep avoiding this, you need to confront it head-on, like he said.
taking a deep breath, you type out a message.
âcan we talk? please.â
you donât expect him to respond right away, but to your surprise, your phone buzzes just a few seconds later.
âmeet me at the park.â
your heart races as you grab your jacket and head out, the cool night air biting at your skin as you walk to the park where you and sunghoon used to hang out.
itâs quiet when you arrive, the dim streetlights casting long shadows across the grass.
and there, sitting on a bench near the playground, is sunghoon.
he looks up when he sees you, his expression unreadable. you walk over slowly, your heart pounding in your chest.
âhey,â you say softly, sitting down next to him.
âhey,â he replies, his voice flat.
for a moment, neither of you says anythingâthe silence stretches between you, heavy with everything thatâs been left unsaid. finally, you break the tension.
âiâm really sorry, hoon,â you say quietly, your voice trembling. âi didnât mean to hurt you.â
sunghoon lets out a sigh, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.
âitâs not about hurting me. itâs about whether or not you actually want this with me.â
you swallow hard, your chest tightening. âi do. i really do.â
he looks at you then, his eyes searching yours for somethingâtruth, maybe. âthen whatâs the problem? why are you so afraid of justâŠbeing with me?â
you bite your lip, struggling to put your feelings into words. âitâs not that i donât want to be with you. itâs justâŠeverything with karina, and the rumors, andââ
âforget the rumors,â he says firmly, cutting you off. âforget karina for a second. this is about you and me. no one else. so what do you want?â
the question hits you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you canât breathe.
what do you want? the answer is so simple, yet so terrifying at the same time.
âi want you,â you whisper, the words spilling out before you can stop them.
sunghoonâs eyes soften, and for the first time in days, his expression relaxes.
he reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. âthen have meâstop pushing me away.â
tears prick the corners of your eyes, and you nod, squeezing his hand tightly.
âiâm sorry. i wonât do it again. i promise.â
he gives you a small, reassuring smile. âweâll figure this out. together.â
and just like that, the weight thatâs been pressing down on you for days lifts, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you.
things arenât perfect, and you still have a lot to work through, but for the first time, you feel like youâre on the same page.
like maybe, this thing between you is realâand worth fighting for.
in the days that follow, things between you and sunghoon slowly begin to settle back into place, but thereâs still a lingering sense of tension, like the calm before a storm.
youâre relieved that the two of you have talked things through, but the issues with karinaâand your own guiltâhavenât magically disappeared.
you and sunghoon are careful around each other, more hesitant than before.
thereâs still that spark, that undeniable chemistry, but the shadow of karinaâs disappointment and the strain from the confrontation hang over everything.
and although sunghoon seems more open, thereâs a subtle distance between youâlike heâs holding something back, unsure if youâre really committed this timeâprotecting himself from a possible heartbreak.
itâs not until the night of the big game that things come to a head.
sunghoon has been talking about this game for weeks.
itâs the biggest one of the season, and the entire school is buzzing with excitementâyouâve never been much for sports, but you know how important it is to him, and even though part of you is still unsure about everything thatâs happened, you want to be there for him.
you arrive at the stadium just as the game is about to start, the stands packed with students, teachers, and parents.
the energy in the air is buzzing with excitement, and you feel your nerves start to buzz as you scan the field for sunghoon.
heâs already out there, warming up with his team, looking confident and focused, like the whole world revolves around him in that moment.
a part of you canât help but admire him.
heâs always been effortlessly good at everythingâpopular, athletic, the guy everyone wants to be.
and yet, despite that, heâs always been more than just the âjockâ to you, heâs sunghoonâyour friend, your fake boyfriend, and nowâŠsomething more. something real.
but as you sit down in the bleachers, pulling your jacket tighter around you, you canât shake the uneasy feeling in your chest.
you havenât spoken to karina since that day in the hallway, and the thought of her finding out about you and sunghoonâabout how things between you have changedâmakes your stomach churn.
youâre still deep in thought when the game starts, the crowd erupting into cheers as the teams take the field.
you try to focus, but your mind keeps wandering back to karina, back to the conversation you had with her, and back to the guilt thatâs been gnawing at you ever since.
the game is intense, and sunghoon is in his element, moving across the field with a kind of grace and power thatâs impossible to ignore.
every time he scores, the crowd erupts in cheers, and you find yourself clapping along with everyone else, despite the turmoil in your heart.
but then, with just a few minutes left in the game, something happens.
one of the opposing players slams into sunghoon hard, sending him crashing to the ground.
the crowd gasps, and your heart leaps into your throat as you watch him lie there, unmoving.
for a moment, everything around you goes silent, and all you can focus on is sunghoon, lying on the field in pain.
you donât even realize youâve stood up until someone grabs your arm, pulling you back down.
âheâs fine,â a voice says from beside you. âheâll get up.â
but you canât relaxâyour mind races with fear and worry as you watch the coach and the team trainer rush out to help him.
sunghoon slowly sits up, wincing as he moves, and you let out a breath you didnât even realize you were holding. heâs hurt, but heâs okay.
still, watching him in pain stirs something inside youâsomething more than just concern for âa crushâ.
itâs the realization that you care about him more deeply than youâve allowed yourself to admit.
youâve been holding back, too scared to fully commit, but now, seeing him like this, you know that you donât want to lose himânot over karina, not over anything.
after the game, you wait for sunghoon outside the locker rooms, pacing nervously.
youâre still shaken from watching him get hurt, but thereâs something else weighing on you nowâsomething more urgent.
when sunghoon finally emerges from the locker room, he looks tired and a little worse for wear, but when he sees you standing there, a smile breaks across his face.
âhey,â he says, walking over to you with a slight limp. âyou waited.â
âof course i did,â you say, trying to smile, but the worry in your voice betrays you. âare you okay?â
he shrugs, trying to play it off. âiâll be fine. just a bad hit.â
you bite your lip, your eyes searching his face. âsunghoon⊠iâve been thinking.â
he raises an eyebrow, looking slightly confused. âabout what?â
âabout us. aboutâŠeverything.â you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. âi know iâve been all over the place lately, and i know iâve hurt you by not being clear about what i want. but iâve realized something tonight.â
sunghoon watches you closely, his eyes narrowing slightly. âand whatâs that?â
you step closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest.
âi donât want to keep pretending that this doesnât matterâyou matter to me, sunghoon. i always haveâmore than iâve let myself admit. and i know things are complicated with karina, and the rumors, and everything else, but⊠i want to be with you. for real.â
thereâs a long pause, and for a moment, youâre terrified that youâve said too much, that maybe youâve pushed him away for good this time.
but then, slowly, a smile spreads across sunghoonâs face.
âyou mean that?â he asks, his voice soft.
you nod, your eyes locked on his. âyeah. i do.â
sunghoon lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. âyou know, iâve been waiting for you to say that for weeks now.â
before you can respond, he steps forward, pulling you into his armsâhis hands are warm against your back, and you can feel his heart beating against your chest as he holds you tightly, like heâs afraid to let go.
âiâm not going anywhere,â he murmurs into your hair. ânot unless you want me to.â
you close your eyes, burying your face in his shoulder as relief washes over you. âi donât want you to.â
the next day, you wake up feeling lighter than a feather, lightâ the same lightness youâd feel after binge watching all the harry potter movies with sunghoon back in the day, the same lightness after you two swore to stay best friends foreverâthe same lightness you felt as sunghoon and you went back-to-school shopping together for the first day of highschoolâthe lightness of sitting in the ice-cream booth togetherâlike a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.
for the first time in weeks, youâre not filled with anxiety or doubt.
youâve made your decision, and now youâre ready to move forwardâwith sunghoon, with whatever this relationship might bring.
but that doesnât mean everything is resolved.
later that afternoon, you receive a text from karina.
âwe need to talk.â
your stomach tightens as you read the messageâyou knew this conversation was coming, but that doesnât make it any easier.
youâve been dreading it, but at the same time, you know itâs necessary.
you canât keep avoiding her, and you canât keep pretending like everything is fine.
you meet karina at a quiet café on the edge of town, your heart pounding as you walk through the door.
sheâs already there, sitting at a table near the window, her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.
when she sees you, she gives you a small nod, but thereâs no warmth in her eyes.
you sit down across from her, your nerves jangling. âhey.â
âhey,â she replies, her voice unreadable.
for a moment, neither of you says anything, the silence between you heavy and uncomfortable.
you can tell that karina is still hurt, and you donât blame her.
youâve been avoiding her, too afraid to face the truth of whatâs happened between you.
finally, karina breaks the silence.
âi saw you and sunghoon together last night. after the game.â
your heart skips a beat. âkarina, iââ
âiâm not mad,â she interrupts, surprising you. âat least, not anymore. iâve had time to think about it, and iâve realized that⊠i canât control what happens between you and him. it sucks, and it hurts, but i canât keep holding onto something thatâs already gone.â
you blink, taken aback by her honesty. âyouâre not mad?â
she sighs, her shoulders slumping slightly. âi mean, yeah, it hurts seeing you two together, but⊠i canât keep being angry. itâs not fair to either of us.â
you stare at her, unsure of what to sayâyouâve been bracing yourself for an argument, for karina to lash out at you, but instead, sheâsâŠletting go. sheâs accepting it.
âiâm sorry,â you say softly, your voice thick with emotion. âi really never wanted to hurt you.â
karina gives you a small, sad smile. âi know. and i believe you.â
for the first time in weeks, you feel a sense of relief.
maybe things between you and karina will never go back to how they were, but at least youâre not leaving things unresolvedâat least now, thereâs a chance to heal.
the days that follow feel like a fresh start.
you and sunghoon grow closer, your relationship deepening as you finally let go of the doubts and fears that have been holding you back.
there are no more rumors, no more pretending. itâs just the two of you, and for the first time, thatâs enough.
you still see karina from time to time, and though things are awkward at first, thereâs a sense of understanding between you now.
sheâs moving on, too, in her own way, and while your friendship may never be the same, you two are still trying your best to make the most out of itâto forgive and heal together.
one afternoon, as you and sunghoon sit together on the bleachers, watching the sunset after his practice, he turns to you with a grin.
âso,â he says, nudging you playfully. âare you ready to stop pretending weâre just fake dating?â
you laugh, leaning against his shoulder. âi think weâve been past that point for a while now, hoon.â
he smiles, his eyes soft as he looks down at you âgood. because i donât plan on letting you go anytime soon.â
you smile back, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you rest your head against him.
for the first time in a long time, you feel like youâre exactly where youâre meant to beâno more pretending, no more doubts.
just you and sunghoon, and the future ahead of you.
a few days later, itâs the championship game, and the energy in the stadium is like nothing youâve ever experienced.
the stands are packed with students, parents, and teachers, all buzzing with excitement as they watch the final moments of the game unfold.
the score is tied, and thereâs only one minute left on the clock.
youâre sitting on the edge of your seat, next to karina your heart pounding in your chest as you watch sunghoon move across the field with lightning speed.
his eyes are locked on the ball, his focus razor-sharp, and you knowâthis is his moment.
this is what heâs been working toward all season.
âcome on, sunghoon,â you whisper under your breath, your hands clenched into fists as you lean forward.
the crowd is on their feet, everyone holding their breath as sunghoon makes his move.
he dodges one defender, then another, running through the opposing team with easeâand then, with just seconds to spare, he takes the shot.
the ball soars through the air, and for a moment, it feels like time has stopped.
everyone watches in stunned silence as the ball flies toward the goalâŠand lands perfectly in the back of the net.
the crowd erupts into cheers, the sound so loud it shakes the stadium, and you jump to your feet, screaming in excitement.
sunghoon has done itâheâs won the game.
on the field, his teammates rush toward him, lifting him up onto their shoulders as they celebrate their victory.
sunghoon is laughing, his face lit up with pure joy as heâs carried around the fieldâbut even in the middle of all the chaos, his eyes are searching for somethingâor someone.
then, you see itâhis gaze locks onto yours from across the field, and in that moment, itâs like no one else exists.
the cheers, the noise, the celebrationâit all fades away as sunghoon looks at you, a wide smile spreading across his face.
you felt a soft nudge beside you, making you turn to face the girl who youâd been spending time with recently.
âbabeâwhat are you waiting for? go!â she shouts excitedly making you run down the stands to congratulate sunghoon.
without a second thought, he jumps down from his teammatesâ shoulders, running toward you with a determination that makes your heart race.
before you can even process whatâs happening, heâs in front of you, sweeping you into his arms and lifting you off the ground.
you let out a startled laugh as he spins you around, your feet dangling in the air. âsunghoon, what are you doing?â
but he doesnât answer. instead, he pulls you close and kisses you, his lips warm and soft against yours.
the world around you melts away, and all you can feel is himâhis arms wrapped tightly around you, his breath mingling with yours, the sheer joy radiating from him.
when you finally pull back, youâre both breathless, and you canât help but laugh.
âyouâre supposed to be celebrating with your team, you know.â
sunghoon grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. âiâd rather celebrate with you.â
you roll your eyes, but the smile on your face is impossible to hide. âyouâre impossible, you know that?â
âyeah, but you love me anyway,â he teases, setting you back down on the ground.
you playfully slap his arm, shaking your head. âgo celebrate with your teammates. you earned this.â
but sunghoon just shrugs, pulling you closer. âthey can wait. right now, i just want to be with my girlfriend.â
your heart swells at his words, and for a moment, youâre overwhelmed by how much you care about him.
this is realâso much more than the fake relationship you started with.
youâre no longer the girl from the beginning of highschool, locked in her room writing letters heartbroken at night.
now, standing here in the middle of a roaring crowd with sunghoon holding you like youâre the only person in the world, you realize just how far youâve come together.
you smile, leaning in to kiss him again, your lips brushing softly against his. âokay,â you whisper against his mouth. âbut you better go back to them soon, or theyâre going to start wondering where their star player went.â
sunghoon laughs, the sound warm and full of happiness. âfine. but donât go anywhere. iâm not done celebrating with you yet.â
you laugh too, your heart light as you watch him jog back toward his teammates, the smile on his face never fading.
the crowd is still cheering, the excitement still there, but all you can focus on is the way sunghoon keeps glancing back at you, like youâre the only person in the world who matters.
and in that moment, you knowâyouâre exactly where youâre meant to be.
no more pretending, no more doubts. just you, sunghoon, and the love youâve both fought so hard to find.
© WON4KISS 2024 do not plagarize, repost, or translate.
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I learned on/was held up by all three of my friends last night. I really hate that I randomly get lightheaded. I really love being (literally) supported.
#okay but also. my heart. it burst. when i had the opposite of past traumas happen#i really hope i didn't get all stiff and freak out and make her feel awkward or anything. i know i flinched internally for a second#but someone putting their arm over my shoulder to pull me close used to be accompanied by one of two things#a punch in the gut or a punch in the feels. a way to whisper in my ear something awful and demeaning that no one else could hear#but yesterday i was pulled close and told 'i got you Boo'#and yeah. she was being both supportive and silly at the same time#but even silly little words like Boo or Love used to be weilded as weapons against me#hearing a -what the HECK are they called??? oh!- term of endearment coming from someone who actually holds me dear#let's just say i took it home with me. unwrapped all my feelings over it. and fell asleep feeling loved#i didn't realize how much i needed to hear something like that -from her specifically- until it happened#Like. you can save yourself. you can patch yourself up. but you didn't wound yourself#so it would be awfully hard to fully heal yourself. i sure got myself out of there and covered the pain in bandages.#but i gotta change the dressing before it festers and kills me anyway. the salve i could never find on my own is friendship#hey google. play pieces by red#and if Bestie felt me flinch tell her that i didn't mean it. she can support my dizzy ass whenever she wants
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Hi. I was thinking of something with Lando Norris where Lando has been secretive and hiding his phone and everything and reader thinks he's cheating on her and feels miserable thinking she's not enough. And when she asks Lando about it he feels extremely guilty because he was actually planning to PROPOSE!!
new passwords and new surnames (ln4)
⊠pairing - lando norris x female!reader
⊠genre - angst, miscommunication, tears, fluff
Y/N sat on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest as she absentmindedly scrolled through social media. Her heart wasnât in it, not really. It hadnât been for weeks now. She couldn't help but replay the small, almost imperceptible changes in Lando's behavior that had slowly eroded her peace of mind.
It started so innocently. One night, while they were lying in bed, she noticed Lando's phone screen light up with a notification. His hand shot out faster than usual to grab it, turning it face-down. He flashed her a smile, that easy-going grin she adored, but something was off.
"You okay?" she had asked then, her voice soft and questioning.
"Yeah, love. Just a text from the team. Nothing important." He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering a little longer than necessary as if to erase any doubt. But the doubt had settled in that moment and had been growing ever since.
Tonight, it was all too much. The weight of uncertainty sat on her chest like a heavy stone. She couldnât ignore how distant Lando had been lately. He changed the password on his phone, something he hadnât done in years. When they were out together, he'd tuck his phone away whenever she got close or make some excuse to leave the room to answer calls. He laughed it off when she asked why he was being so secretive.
And she wanted to believe him. Desperately. But each time, the gnawing ache in her gut got worse. She wasn't paranoidâshe was trying not to be. But the constant second-guessing was eating her alive.
"What if he's seeing someone else?" The thought pierced through her mind, sharper and more painful every time she allowed it to surface. She hated herself for even thinking it, but she couldnât stop.
Y/N blinked, her vision blurring as tears welled up. She swallowed the lump in her throat, willing herself not to cry. Not yet.
She replayed another moment in her head. A few days ago, Lando had left for a race weekend. Heâd been unusually flustered before leaving, fumbling around their shared apartment, misplacing his keys and wallet, which wasnât like him. He barely looked her in the eyes when he kissed her goodbye, murmuring a quick, "Love you," before disappearing out the door. And later that night, when she texted him, he responded hours later with a vague, "Sorry, busy."
âBusy with what?â she whispered aloud to herself, the silence of the apartment engulfing her. Her mind filled with images of him with someone elseâsomeone better, someone who wasnât her.
She wasnât enough, was she?
The thought felt like a punch to her gut. Maybe Iâm not interesting anymore. Maybe he found someone who gets him better. Lando was famous, rich, and could have anyone he wanted. She wasnât special. Not in the way some gorgeous model or influencer could be.
Y/N shifted on the couch, pressing her palms against her forehead, trying to stop the spiraling thoughts. I should ask him. No, I canât. What if Iâm wrong? What if heâs not cheating? The internal debate was killing her.
Suddenly, she heard the familiar jingle of keys at the door. Her stomach dropped. Lando was home.
He walked into the living room, looking tired but smiling at her, his blue eyes lighting up in that way that used to make her heart race. Now, all she felt was a deep ache.
"Hey, babe," he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "Miss me?"
She nodded but couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. Instead, she fixed her gaze on her hands, now trembling slightly in her lap. "Yeah. How was the day?"
"Busy as hell. Meetings, more meetings, and then training," he chuckled lightly. "I could use a beer."
She nodded again, offering a weak smile. "I'll grab it for you." She needed to move, to do anything to avoid this unbearable tension.
As she stood up, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. Landoâs eyes darted to it, but his expression remained calm. He watched as she crossed the room to grab his beer from the fridge, her movements stiff and robotic. The distance between them felt like an ocean.
Her hands were cold when she handed him the drink, and for a moment, she debated whether to say anything. Should she ask him now? Her heart raced with anxiety as she stood awkwardly, her fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt as though it could keep her from unraveling completely.
She took a shaky breath and finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, âLando⊠is there something going on? Something you're not telling me?"
He froze, his hand halfway to his mouth, beer bottle in hand. His eyes flickered with surprise, maybe even guilt, and that tiny moment of hesitation broke her. She saw it, clear as day.
âWhat do you mean?â His voice was cautious, like he was trying to tread lightly.
Y/N swallowed hard. âYouâve been so secretive lately. Youâre hiding your phone, leaving the room to take calls. You changed your password⊠Youââ her voice cracked, the vulnerability bleeding through. âYouâve never done that before.â
Lando set his beer down on the table, his expression shifting from surprise to something darker. âY/N, noââ
âI canât keep ignoring it!â she interrupted, her voice louder now, the emotion bubbling up uncontrollably. âIâm trying to be calm, Iâm trying to trust you, but it feels like youâre hiding something from me! And Iââ She paused, taking a sharp breath as tears threatened to spill over. âI keep wondering if⊠if Iâm not enough for you anymore.â
Landoâs eyes widened in horror, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to say something, but she kept going.
âAm I losing you, Lando? Is there someone else? Because if there is, just tell me, okay? I donât think I can take this anymore. I feel like Iâm going crazy.â
The tears finally slipped down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away, frustrated with herself for breaking like this in front of him. But she couldnât hold it in any longer. It had been eating her alive.
Lando stood frozen, his mouth slightly open as if trying to form words, but nothing came out. Guilt flooded his features, and Y/Nâs heart shattered a little more seeing it.
She had been right all along, hadnât she?
And now, she was about to lose him.
Chapter Two: The Unveiling
Lando took a step closer, his expression shifting from shock to concern as he reached out, brushing his thumb against her cheek to catch a tear. âY/N, no⊠Youâre everything to me. I would never cheat on you. I promise. Itâs justâŠâ He hesitated, his eyes searching hers as if trying to find the right words. âItâs just been a lot.â
She looked away, trying to compose herself, but the knot in her throat tightened. âThen why all the secrecy? Why the phone? I feel like Iâm losing my mind here.â
His gaze softened, and he took a deep breath. âI know Iâve been distant, but please, let me explain. Itâs not what you think. Iâve just been⊠planning something.â
âPlanning what?â Her voice cracked, the confusion mixing with the hurt that had been building for weeks. âWhat could possibly require all this secrecy?â
Lando stepped back, taking her hands in his, squeezing them tightly as if grounding himself. âY/N, Iâve been trying to plan the perfect way to ask you something. And I thought⊠I thought if I could surprise you, it would be amazing.â
Her heart raced. âWhat do you mean?â
He paused, his eyes shining with emotion. âI wanted to propose to you, but I didnât want to ruin the surprise. I thought I could keep it under wraps until the right moment. I was going to do it this weekend, and Iâve just been so caught up in making it perfect that I didnât realize how my actions were affecting you.â
Y/Nâs breath hitched, her mind spinning as she tried to process his words. âYou⊠you wanted to propose?â
âYes!â Lando exclaimed, his voice a mixture of relief and excitement. âI love you, Y/N, and I want to spend my life with you. I just got so caught up in the planning that I forgot how important it is to communicate. I never wanted you to feel this way.â
Her heart fluttered at his words, but the hurt still lingered. âBut you were hiding things from me, Lando. It felt like you were pushing me away.â
âI know, and Iâm so sorry,â he said, his voice earnest. âI was being an idiot. I didnât want to ruin the surprise, but I ended up making everything worse.â He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. âI should have trusted you enough to share this with you. I didnât want you to feel like you werenât enough, because you are everything to me.â
Y/Nâs heart softened at his sincerity, but the tears still streamed down her face. âYouâre really serious about this?â
âMore than anything,â he said, his voice trembling with emotion. âYou deserve to know how much I love you, and I shouldâve told you sooner. You make me a better person, and I canât imagine my life without you.â
Just as Y/N was beginning to comprehend the gravity of his words, Lando knelt down on one knee, taking a small velvet box from his pocket. Her heart raced, and her breath caught in her throat as she realized what was happening.
âY/N,â he said, looking up at her with all the sincerity in the world. âWill you marry me? Will you be my partner in this wild life? I promise to never hide anything from you again. I want us to share everything, no more secrets.â
For a moment, time stood still. The world around them faded, and all that mattered was the two of them in this small living room filled with unspoken fears and newfound hope. She looked into his eyes, and all she saw was loveâpure, unwavering love.
âIââ she began, her voice breaking as more tears slipped down her cheeks. âI thought I was losing you, Lando. I thought I wasnât enough.â
âYouâre more than enough, Y/N,â he said, his voice steady. âYouâre everything to me. So, what do you say?â
She blinked, her heart swelling as she finally let the reality of his proposal sink in. âYes! Yes, Iâll marry you!â
Landoâs face broke into a huge smile as he slipped the ring onto her finger, a beautiful band that sparkled in the soft light. She gasped, lifting her hand to get a better look. It was perfectâsimple, elegant, just like the love they shared.
âReally? You mean it?â he asked, rising to his feet, his eyes shining with joy.
âYes!â she exclaimed, laughter spilling from her lips as she hugged him tightly. âI canât believe you were hiding this from me!â
âI know, I know,â he chuckled, holding her close. âIâm so sorry for everything. I promise to do better.â
As they pulled away, she looked into his eyes, the weight of her earlier fears lifting. âJust promise me one thing, Lando.â
âAnything,â he replied, his gaze intense.
âFrom now on, no more secrets, okay? We talk about everything.â
âDeal,â he said, grinning. âI canât wait to spend forever with you, love.â
With that, they embraced again, the tension that had filled their apartment melting away, leaving only the warmth of their love and the promise of a beautiful future together.
#lando norris#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#ln4#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 x you#ln4 x female reader#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#f1 imagine#formula one#y/n#mclaren
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would you consider doing part 2 to the crash where the boys reunite with reader??
youâre everything that i want
pairing: oscar piastri x f2 driver!reader, lando norris x sister!reader note: part two to this.
content warnings: mentions of hospitals, injuries and a crash.
the hospital hallways stretch endlessly, each corner looking the same as the last. lando and oscar are rushing, a mutual feeling passing through them as they practically run through the busy hospital. but as they finally reach the door to your room, a heavy silence settles between them.
they know youâre stable, but that word had never felt more fragile. the crash, the screaming sirens, the gut-wrenching waitâthey had both been on the edge of losing you, and that fear still lingers, clawing at the back of their minds.
lando hesitates, his hand hovering over the door handle. heâs never been afraid of much, but right now, heâs terrified of what heâll see on the other side. oscar watches him, his own face pale and tight, but itâs lando who finally pushes the door open.
the sight of you hits them both like a punch to the gut.
youâre there, in the middle of the sterile, white room, looking small and fragile against the stiff hospital sheets. wires snake around your body, connecting you to machines that beep steadily, and bruises cover your usually vibrant skin. but itâs your faceâpale, tense, and etched with painâthat makes them both freeze.
landoâs breath catches in his throat. heâs seen you on the edge beforeâcrashes, spins, close callsâbut nothing like this. nothing that left you looking so broken. his eyes dart over every inch of you, searching for any sign of the sister he knows, but all he sees is pain and it crushes him.
oscar takes a shaky step forward, his heart lodged somewhere in his throat. youâve always been the strong one, the fearless racer who never backed down, but the way your face contorts with pain as you struggle to take a breath sends a jolt of terror through him. heâs seen you battle opponents on the track, but now, youâre fighting something invisible and relentless, and he feels powerless to help.
you look up as they enter, your expression caught between relief and agony. âhey,â you whisper, trying to sound normal, but your voice trembles, thin and strained. itâs a sound theyâve never heard from you before, and it shatters whatever composure they were clinging to.
lando reaches you first, his eyes glassy as he tries to keep it together. he grabs the nearest chair and sits down, taking your hand in his, squeezing it as if heâs trying to ground himself, too. âyouâre okay,â he says, but his voice wavers, thick with emotion. âyouâre⊠youâre going to be okay.â
oscar stands frozen at the foot of your bed, swallowing hard as he takes you in. seeing you like this, in so much pain, makes his stomach twist violently. he wants to say somethingâanythingâbut words feel stuck in his throat. all he can do is watch, his eyes filled with fear and helplessness.
you try to smile, but it quickly turns into a grimace as another sharp wave of pain crashes over you. your breath hitches, and you grip the bedrails, your knuckles turning white. âit hurts,â you admit, voice cracking as tears pool in your eyes. âit hurts so much.â
landoâs face crumples, the sight of your tears breaking something inside him. he squeezes your hand tighter, his other hand gently brushing a tear off your cheek. âiâm here,â he says, his voice breaking. âweâre both here, okay? weâve got you.â
oscar finally moves, his legs feeling heavy as he sits beside you on the bed. he gently takes your other hand, his touch light but firm and grounding. his eyes are locked on yours, filled with raw, unfiltered emotion. âweâre not going anywhere,â he says softly, his voice laced with a mix of fear and determination. âjust breathe. weâll get through this.â
you lean into him slightly, seeking his comfort even as the pain spikes again, sharp and unrelenting. oscarâs thumb rubs slow, soothing circles on the back of your hand, and he places a long, lingering kiss in your temple as if trying to share some of your burden. âiâm right here,â he murmurs, voice low and calming. âjust breathe with me, okay? weâve got you.â
landoâs other hand rests on your arm, rubbing gentle, reassuring circles. his eyes are glued to your face, his heart aching at every wince, every pained breath you take. âyouâre the toughest person i know,â he says, trying to keep his voice steady even as his own tears threaten to spill. âif anyone can get through this, itâs you. and weâre going to be here every step of the way.â
you nod, feeling the burn of pain and the flood of emotions all at once, but their presenceâtheir unwavering supportâgives you something to hold on to. itâs enough to keep you breathing through the pain, knowing you donât have to face it alone.
oscar presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering once again as he fights to keep his own emotions in check. âweâll get through this,â he whispers, his voice filled with quiet determination. âone breath at a time.â
and as you squeeze their hands tighter, you realize thatâs all you need right now: landoâs steady words, oscarâs calming presence, and the unshakable reassurance that theyâre here, right beside you.
#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#mclaren#mclaren racing#op81#op81 x reader#op81 imagine#divider by cafekitsune#op81 x you#op81 x y/n#op81 fluff#op81 fic#lando norris x sister!reader#norris!reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris f1#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x yn#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fluff
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my angsty little heart just imagining you looking at rafe after babyâs been born and you start sniffing, and youâre like âiâm so sorry i put you through thatâ
couldn't make them suffer more so i made this kinda shortđthank you for the request, hope you like it!đ
rafe watched autumn, now bundled up and sleeping peacefully, her tiny chest rising and falling like it hadnât just stopped for what felt like years.
heâd talked big game, said the right things, held your hand through every ultrasound.
but nothing, nothing, had prepared him for that moment.
heâd felt like heâd been gutted alive, emptied, and only now was the relief wrapping itself around him and making him feel like he could maybe breathe again.
you lay there, propped up in bed, the exhaustion written all over your face, but you still managed to look at him with this soft, broken smile.
you took a shaky breath, still staring at him like you hadnât yet snapped out of that agitated state, and then you started sniffling, quiet sobs you were trying to control.
rafeâs stomach dropped, the lingering anxiety coming back up all over again.
âiâm so sorry i put you through that.â
rafe blinked, stunned, âwhat? what are you talking about?â his thumb grazed over your knuckles.
he didnât know what heâd expected you to say, but it wasnât an apology. if anything, heâd wanted to tell you how sorry he was for what you'd just been through, for how he couldnât do anything but stand there while it all happened.
you sniffed again, wiping at your cheeks, eyes still shining with this look of guilt and sadness that made him feel like heâd been punched in the lungs all over again.
âi justâŠshe didnât come out crying, rafe. she was just there, and you had to see that, go through that⊠i just, i feel like i dragged you intoââ
âhey, hey,â he cut you off, gripping your hand tighter, his other hand brushing a few loose strands of hair away from your face. âstop. you didnât âdragâ me anywhere, alright? iâm here because i want to be. because youâre my family.â
your mouth trembled, âiâm justâi was so scared she wasnâtâŠâ you trailed off, looking back at the baby. âi thought we lost her.â
he couldnât lie to you; heâd thought the exact same thing.
for a few agonizing seconds, heâd thought heâd lost everything that mattered, and he couldnât even understand that feeling now.
but she was here. you were here.
âsheâs here. and sheâs okay. weâre okay.â
rafe moved to sit on the edge of the hospital bed, not caring about the cramped space or how uncomfortable it was. he needed to be closer to you, needed you to understand that he didnât see this as something youâd put him through.
it was something youâd both survived.
he leaned his forehead against yours, his hand pressed against your cheek, âyou donât have to be sorry for anything, you got that?â
you let out a wobbly breath, pressing your face into his palm, eyes fluttering closed, âokay.â
he looked over at the bassinet again, and there she was, your daughterâhis daughter, your little autumn, with her tiny fists and barely-there eyelashes.
she was still sleeping, looking so peaceful like she hadnât been seconds from scaring him shitless.
a weird, tight laugh bubbled out of his chest as he shook his head, in disbelief, still in awe.
he couldnât stop looking at her, still couldnât believe she was real.
âi⊠i canât believe we made her,â he confessed in just a whisper, âthatâs ours.â he laughed again, shaking his head, âwe did that, baby. you⊠you did that.â
he felt your hand tighten in his, and when he looked back at you, you were smiling, tired but so proud, a little bit like himâstill not fully believing it yet.
this whole thing was real, it wasnât just a dream heâd woken up from.
he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
he looked at you, catching the way your hand shook a little as you wiped at your eyes, saying âsorryâ like somehow you still thought this was on you, all he felt was this deep, gut-wrenching gratitude that you were both here.
âyouâre still apologizing,â he reprimanded you quietly, squeezing your hand a little harder, as if that would get the point across.
âi was supposed toââ you stopped as you looked at autumn, lying there so still, so alive. âi was supposed to protect her.â
âyou did protect her. you protected her every day before she even got here.â
your lips quivered as you nodded, even as a couple of silent tears slipped down your face, and he could tell it was a lot more than the relief you were feeling.
he wanted to tell you a thousand thingsâthat heâd never felt prouder of anyone in his life, that youâd been braver than he ever could be, that he was just grateful, in this a way he couldnât translate into words.
âalways gonna be right here. for you and her. promise.â
rafe would never let you feel like you had to apologize for something that wasnât your fault to begin with. he would carry it with you, or heâd carry it himselfâwhatever it took to make sure you knew that.
#itneverendshere worksâš#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron au#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron angst#rafe angst#bartender!pogue!reader x rafe#bartender!reader!universe#bartender!pogue!reader universe#rafe x pogue!reader#rafe x bartender!pogue!reader#rafe imagine#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe drabble#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic
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Fancy
Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy
Previous | Next | Ao3
NSFW | MDNI
Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader
Word Count: 7k
Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. Youâve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.
Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.
A/N: Yâall are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever
A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like itâs burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but youâve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasnât anymore.
The four men havenât come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely theyâre done with you after that single meeting. Theyâve gone back to Cherry and youâre back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.
After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires arenât just like that, they arenât made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasnât since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.
It is what it is. Life goes on.
The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.
TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED
DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER
ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR
UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE
With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all donât already know whatâs happening. As if there isnât a cancer in this city centuries old.
Nothing is new under the constant night.
Life goes on.
You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.
âYou!â Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.
You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. âW-what -â
âYou stole my clients!â She shrieks.
âI- what?â
âCherry.â The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.
The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.
âYou took them! Theyâre my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?â Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly youâre surprised it doesnât break skin.
Itâs your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. âHow dare you! I swear to god I-â
âLadies!â The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. âQuiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.â
You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.
âI - sir - I really didnât-â You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.
âI donât care what you did or didnât do.â He sighs loudly. âTheyâre requesting you.â
âBut I donât-â
âI. Donât. Care.â He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. âYour job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your jobâ
Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You canât blame her. Youâre taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if youâre honest with yourself. There isnât any time to focus on that too much as youâre ushered to the private booths. Thereâs no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and itâs their fault for kicking her to the curb.
Itâs your survival too, at the end of the day.
It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands donât shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.
Theyâre seated the same as before. Simonâs mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. Theyâre all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnnyâs sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.
âEveninâ, Fancy.â John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.
âHello.â You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. âYouâve gotten me into trouble.â
âHave we, now?â John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.
âCherry isnât exactly happy.â You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. âThinks I did something salacious to steal you away.â
âHow do you know you didnât?â John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.
âI suppose I donât.â You sigh. âNothing in my right mind, though.â
âSorry about that, love. Itâs for your own good.â
âRight.â The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. âCan I get you anything else?â
âCan get yer pretty little arse over here.â Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.
âI think âlittleâ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.â You snicker.
âAye, as it should be.â His hand wanders to pinch your hip.
âYouâre a dog, Mr. MacTavish.â
âOch, ye wound me, lass.â
You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.
John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because youâre being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at Johnâs side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.
Top dog gets the chew toy.
âI like the change of attire.â You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.
âSuits not your style?â
âTheyâre nice⊠I see so many of them, though.â You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. âBesides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.â
You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. Itâs pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. Youâve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.
âYou boys planning on talking business tonight?â You tilt your head.
âAh, not tonight.â He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. âTonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week weâve had.â
Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.
âI can certainly help with that.â You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.
To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. âDonât need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.â
Part of you wants to laugh. Thereâs no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires donât get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.
âWanted to pick your brain about somethinâ, actually.â John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.
You scoff. âMe?â
âYouâre a smart girl.â
âAm I?â You canât help but laugh. âWhat, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?â
John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. Theyâre far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.
âOur company has had some recent⊠expansions.â John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. âWe want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.â
âWhy?â You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?
Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you arenât sure if heâs speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.
Simon grunts something before hanging up. âWeâve got a problem.â
âWhat kind of problem?â John demands.
âThe kind we canât leave tilâ tomorrow.â
Thereâs a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.
âFuckinâ hellâŠSorry, darling. Looks like weâll have to resume this another time.â John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. âCan I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?â
âAlways.â Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.
John chuckles. Itâs low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring theyâre built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. Thereâs a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.
âPay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.â John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. âDonât want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.â
âT-thanksâŠâ You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. Thereâs a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.
John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.
Youâre not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.
~~~
Itâs not even a full week before theyâre back. This time, itâs just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.
Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?
âHello.â You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. âJust the two of you today?â
âDonât sound so disappointed.â Kyle grins. âWeâre more than enough company.â
âThatâs what Iâm afraid of.â You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.
âNothing to cure a shit week like blowinâ off a little steam with a pretty woman.â Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.
You hum. âWork got you down? You had that âproblemâ last time.â
âOch, aye. Been a right bitch lately.â Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. âAt least we got that one bit sorted.â
âIt was your own damn fault.â Kyle scoffs at him.
âOi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-â
Kyle grabs Johnnyâs lips, pinching them shut. âPrice said not in front of the girl.â
You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.
That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.
Kyleâs hands trace down over your shoulders. âYouâre a fuckinâ luxury, baby girl.â
âCan I have a kiss, hen?â Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.
Your lip quirks up. âCan you afford a kiss? Seeing as Iâm such a luxury, apparently.â
Itâs Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. âWe can afford much more than that, love.â
The tip of a fang grazes your neck. Itâs slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.
A promise.
Itâs barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnnyâs. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyleâs hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.
âDâyou have any idea how good you smell?â Kyle murmurs in your ear.
âOr taste.â Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile youâve ever seen.
âCome home with us?â Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. âWeâll take such good care of you.â
âYou just got here.â You murmur.
âAnâ now weâre askinâ if yeâd like tae come home with us.â Johnny grins.
You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. Itâs a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You donât want to offend, but you donât want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, youâre cut off.
âHowâs 5k sound, lovie?â Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?
You pray they donât notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! Thatâs more than twice what you make in month.
âIâll take that bewildered stare as a yes.â He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.
They call a car. You donât have to explain where youâre going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a manâs arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadnât quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldnât care less. They all know, and theyâre all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they canât afford to.) Itâs all goods and services, at the end of the day.
Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.
âNo, no, full weight on me, bonnie.â He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. âThaâs it.â
His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.
Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. Youâre pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.
Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you canât quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.
You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.
Cheeky bastard.
The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.
You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. Thereâs a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.
âDo you all live here?â You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.
The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesnât have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you donât understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.
Johnny nods. âOch, aye, but John and Si are⊠workinâ.â
You decide itâs probably smartest not to pry into whatever âworkâ means. âSo, the mice will play while the cats are away?â
âSomethinâ like that.â Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.
You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You canât ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. âAnd John doesnât mind you⊠having me first?â
They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. Itâs not a stupid question. Itâs perfectly valid! At least thats what youâve heard from other working girlsâŠ
âOh, no, doll. He doesnât care.â Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.
âMight be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but heâs not jealous like thaâ.â Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.
The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.
You know what youâre here for but you canât help wandering over to them and staring. Theyâre so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you arenât sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you donât know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.
âWhose are these?â You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.
âAh, mine.â Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.
âTheyâre beautifulâŠâ Youâve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.
âCould do one of ye. Yeâd make a bonnie portrait.â He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.
Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creatureâs wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?
You settle on a gentle âMaybe.â
Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. âGonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.â
The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets youâve ever seen. Itâs unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for whatâs to come.
Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyleâs legs where heâs sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.
Itâs so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.
He grins like he won some game you didnât even know you were playing.
You turn to carefully peel off Johnnyâs shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you donât notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.
Fucking Christ.
Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people youâre actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.
An unceremonious squeak escapes you when youâre suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.
âNeed a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.â Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.
As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you canât focus on much other than Johnnyâs mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnnyâs hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.
âFuck.â You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyleâs shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnnyâs mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.
You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that youâve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.
âC-Christ, Johnny!â You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.
âHe likes it when youâre mean tâhim.â Kyle murmurs in your ear. âGot him fuckinâ pussy drunk already.â
You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.
Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. âCannae take it anymore.â
Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. âYouâd think after two centuries heâd learn a little patience.â
You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, heâs thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.
âSo fuckinâ warm.â He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.
Lord help you, heâs beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.
All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, âPlease.â
Thatâs all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyleâs fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.
âFuck. Alright.â Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but canât bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.
Heâs pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesnât even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. Itâs cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.
âBeen tae long since we had somethinâ so nice anâ soft in our bed.â Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.
Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. âThat it has.â
He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnnyâs hands tighten where they hold you and Kyleâs pace picks up.
âFuck, she likes thaâ.â Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. âClenchinâ down on me.â
All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like itâs pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyleâs cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.
âThassit, love, doinâ so good fâus.â Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. Itâs strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnnyâs ruts against your g-spot. âHowâs she feel, Johnny?â
The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that theyâll surely bruise. At least heâs aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you canât take.
âG-gonnae cum.â Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.
Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isnât worth it when youâre getting fucked like that.
Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. âGiâ me a minuteâŠâ
âGettinâ old, Johnny?â Kyle quips.
âFeck off.â He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You canât quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.
âCâmere, love.â Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesnât seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesnât waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isnât as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.
âFuck, KyleâŠâ You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.
âYâlike that, baby?â He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesnât quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.
Itâs a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. Heâs not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.
You think, for a moment, that this is the closest youâve ever been to âmaking love.â
Then again, maybe youâre just cock drunk.
You donât notice Johnny getting up until heâs in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, thatâs pretty damn impressive.
âBonnie, please.â He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyleâs thrusts into you. âYer fuckinâ perfect.â
Itâs overwhelming. Kyleâs hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnnyâs tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.
âGonna cum fâme, pretty girl?â Kyle groans into your ear. âChokinâ my fuckinâ, cock.â
You whine against Johnnyâs lips, eyes screwed shut. Heâs close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize itâs you. âPlease, please, just - fuck - I canât - fucking Christ-â
âThassit, thassit, fuckinâ hell look at yâtwo.â Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.
You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isnât far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.
Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, youâre not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.
âI can do it.â You reach for the cloth.
âNo, no, love.â He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.
âDrink this.â Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?
âTap water?â You frown slightly, looking him up and down.
âWhatâs wrong with tap?â He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.
âThanks.â You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young manâs game and youâre just starting to see the signs of aging out. âI better g-â
âBetter lay down.â Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.
You chew your lip. You donât usually stay at clientâs homes overnight. Then again⊠the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then whatâs the harm, right? Youâll just sneak out in the morning.
So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnnyâs arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.
There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a nightâŠ
You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyleâs cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than youâd realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. Itâs so easy to forget that they donât have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.
You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You donât pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt thatâs more fitted than youâd like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they donât react to you padding out to the main house.
That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.
âLookinâ fâsomethinâ?â A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.
âSorry!â You croak, voice still hoarse. âI didnât mean- I-â
âSâfine.â The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope itâs amusement, at least. âNeed somethinâ?â
âJ-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-â You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.
âCome on, then.â He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then youâll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.
You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab⊠a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.
âY-you donât have to-â
âHowâd our boys treat you?â Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.
âGood.â You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.
âJohnny behave himself?â
âThe picture of civility.â You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.
Simon chuckles but doesnât say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldnât drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.
âShould get a heating system put inâŠâ Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.
âWhy?â You snort. âYou donât need it.â
âYou do.â
You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.
âWhatâs the deal with the mask?â You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.
Simon just shakes his head. âTo âide my face.â
âBooooring!â You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, youâre not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. âThanks for the tea.â
Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isnât as hoarse and your throat doesnât sting when you swallow.
âI should probablyâŠâ You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.
Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You donât know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than youâre used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.
âDo you wantâŠuhâŠâ You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.
Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. âNot tonight, pretty girl. Youâve âad enough.â
You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe itâs the exhaustion, maybe itâs the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.
âSleep well, sweetâeart.â With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.
Oh.
Okay.
You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnnyâs room. The two of them havenât moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyleâs.
These men are going to be the death of you.
A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so itâs going to just have to get pushed to the next one.
Part of me was worried theyâre fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I wantđ«Ą
#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#call of duty#cod#ghost cod#cod x reader#ghoap#ghost x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#polyamory#polyamourous#captain price x reader#captain john price#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader#gazprice#vampire au#fancy au#fanfic#fanfiction#cod smut#plus size reader#john mactavish x reader#fat reader#reader insert smut#smut#fem reader
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-Cregan Stark x Dreamer!Reader
{The war has brought many casualties, those that youâve already seen begin to unfold before you}
Iâve received many requests for another part so here it is, sorry for the long wait. Enjoy my lovelies!! đ
//!CW!// spoilers for Rhaenyraâs death//
ââșââ âŸââșââ ââșââ âŸââșââ ââșââ âŸââșââ ââșââ âŸââșââ ââșââ âŸââș
The sound of men and clanging metal intermingled throughout the camp, overwhelming your senses. It was a sound Cregan promised would soon become a distant noise. He was wrong.
You sit on the bed, palms pressing against your ears with a deep frown. You hated it here, hated the cold and the men and the noise and the way they all looked at you with a strange look in their eyes as if you were some kind of creature from beyond the wall that their nursemaids used to scare them with.
You missed Winterfell, the warm castle and the glass garden that you spent hours in, admiring the winter roses. It had quickly become your home and you were sick with the desire to go back, but Cregan wanted you here he needed you here.
You just wanted to escape from your mind, the murmurs and whispers. The way it screams at you to make the blasted noise all stop.
âApologies, there was some trouble with the-â his words fall short as he spots you, wrapped up in furs, hunched over and covering your ears as if you were in pain. The sight was an immediate punch to the gut.
He felt awful in truth, he shouldâve left you home in warmth where you could be comfortable, but the daunting thought of you going through another episode whilst he was gone, far away from you⊠it was enough to make his stomach turn with unease.
âY/n?âŠâ he calls your name softly, sitting down beside you with a small frown. His index finger and thumb cup your chin to tilt your head, making you look up at him.
âI want to go back home.â You tell him, your voice trembling with sadness and from the cold air that was clearly getting to you.
He nods in understanding, working his fingers around your wrists to bring your hands away from your ears and down into his lap. Gods, you werenât making him feel any better.
âI know my girl, just hang in there.â He whispers the same thing he has told before. His voice was hoarse with exhaustion but loving all the same. His thumb caresses over your knuckles, trying to soothe away your troubles and bring you warmth.
However, his gentleness does very little to quell the sudden pang of frustration that hits your chest.
âItâs cold and noisy and Iâm sick of being looked at like some sort of monster!⊠youâve dragged me out here for your own sake without a single care about me!â The words come out too quick and too harsh. Regret immediately fills your heart.
He stops for a moment, looking a little taken aback by your sudden anger. his expression softens as he squeezes your hand. âYou know thatâs not true.â He tells you firmly, his hands still holding your own tightly. He was worried for you, deeply, it showed in smaller ways but it was still fiercely there. âYouâre here for your own good⊠Iâm sorry.â
He can tell you are miserable, the way your lips purse together in a pout and how your eyes seem to droop. such an expression didnât suit you. Silence settles between the pair of you, his thumb rubbing across your soft palm.
âForgive me for shouting, I do not mean to.â The words leave your lips in a soft whisper, defeat weighing heavily against your shoulders as you slouch.
âDonât be silly, Iâve dealt with unruly men with tempers far worse than yours for weeks nowâ He sighs, giving you a small smirk which you return weakly.
âI could be worse if youâd like.â You tease lightly, trying to make light of the situation you are currently stuck in.
âNo, youâre alright.â He deadpans, trying to fight the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips as he brings your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. âYouâve already got the dragon's temper.â His words are muffled against the back of your hand and for a moment you feel the warmth that you craved.
ââșââ âŸââșââ
The following days were slow, not much happened and the Ravens seemed to be few and far between. You were nowhere near Kings Landing, the snow on the floor could attest to that.
You found peace within your tent- away from prying eyes who judged you without even knowing you- curled up in the furs enjoying how the air carried a twinge of the warmth dragged from the bonfire that was in the centre of the camp. Soon enough sleep would capture you, allowing you a small moment of respite.
Cregan had left you not too long ago, whispering a promise of returning as soon as possible whilst pressing gentle kisses against your forehead in an attempt to coax you to sleep. The sun had set since then, and the camp was now much calmer than it had been as of late, it seems as though the men were getting restless.
Sleep had always been a false sense of security for you, ever since you could remember. Rhaenyra, your mother, had tried every remedy known to the Maester on Dragonstone, she had even resorted to sending ravens to the Citadel but to no avail.
With the history books telling her little to nothing and the Maesters all at a loss she felt as if she had failed you, but then again most dreamers in your lineage were failed. Doomed from the moment they first drew breath.
You were clearly no exception, and your dreamless sleep soon turned violent. The cries, hot dragon fire, a woman burning, the smell of charred flesh. you had seen this one before but not like this, not so real as if you were witnessing it first hand.
It plays on repeat and you canât seem to wake or move for that matter, paralysed to do nothing but watch. Then you see her, your mother, her purple eyes meet your own as she stands before a golden Dragon. She does not flinch or cry out for the Gods but merely braces herself for the inevitable.
The sight of her burning body sends a searing heat through your spine almost as if you had taken her place. Suddenly youâre jolting upright, screaming until your lungs feel like they might just collapse and kicking the furs off of your body.
âNo! no⊠no, no.â You mumble to yourself, standing up on unsteady feet as you stumble out of the tent and into the freezing cold air. The chill gives you relief then everything goes numb, and the world around you doesnât feel stable enough like some kind of weary dream.
Smoke was the only thing you could smell, so strong that it chokes you up as you continue to rush through the camp. Muttering about fire and dragons to yourself, completely crazed in the eyes of the men around you.
âLady Stark?!â The sound of worried voices filters through the ringing in your ears. Itâs too much.
Cregan had long abandoned the meeting in one of the tents as soon as your scream echoed through the camp, shouting demands to the men around him whilst rushing to try and get you in a desperate attempt.
Strong hands grasping your elbows causes you to stop in your tracks, it was Cregan, you were safe. You stare up at him all teary-eyed and shallow breaths. Your own hands tremble as you hold his forearms tightly.
âSheâs burning⊠breathing dragon, burning flesh, she's burning.â You tell him frantically, your fingers digging into the leather on his arms. âSheâs burning.â The words all come out in harsh gasps.
âSeven hells⊠youâre going to freeze.â He rasps, taking off his fur cloak to drape it over your shoulders, pulling it around your body to protect you from the chill in the air.
You continue to hold onto him for dear life, muttering a series of âNo⊠no⊠please no.â Against his chest as he holds you close to him tightly, his hand cradling the back of your head.
âGo on, off with you all!⊠youâve got better things to be doing.â He shouts, watching the men disappear back into their own tents, busying themselves with a few odd tasks.
He guides your tense body back over to the warmth of your shared tent, sitting you down on the bed as you continue to murmur incoherent words of protest. Cregan brushes his fingers through your hair, trying to pull you out of his dazed state.
âSheâs going to die⊠she's dying, I donât want her to die.â You panic, hands grasping his own with a worried look, brows pulled together.
âWho, who will die?â He asks softly, the rough pad of his thumb gently rubs over your knuckles, soothing the tremble in your hands.
âMy mother⊠it was so clear, please, we have to warn her.â The words are a struggle to get out, trying to fight the way your throat closes up.
He watches the helplessness in your eyes intensify, how your fingers tighten around his hands in desperation. There was little either of you could do so far away, your dragon had died a whelp and the ravens would never make it to Kings Landing in time. All he can do is pull you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you.
âIâm sorry, my sweet, Iâm sorryâŠâ he murmurs against your hairline, holding you as you cry against his shoulder.
ââșââ âŸââșââ
You never lost hope, for the following days. You waited on bated breath for further news, constantly looking up at the sky for any Ravens⊠Dragons⊠anything that would be a sign she was still alive. Nothing had come until the early hours of the next morning.
Two scrolls with the wax seal of House Targaryen. Two deaths that would officially end the ongoing conflict.
âY/n?âŠâ Cregan calls your name softly, watching you intently as the letters fall from between your fingers and onto the floor.
You shake your head in disbelief, eyes fixed on the ground beneath you. You did not cry, you couldnât and it destroyed Cregan. Heâd rather your tears than this distant look of despair that glazes across your eyes. His hand rests against your own, fingers caressing your palm gently.
âThe stranger looms behind me, whispering the fates of my loved ones into my ears and all I can do is stand by and watch⊠I am useless.â Your whisper, voice so hushed and broken.
Cregan doesnât know what to say, heâs at a loss and he fears any words that dare leave his lips will just end up coming out as a sob. Instead, he pulls on your hand until youâre collapsing against him, head tucked under his chin.
âDonât blame yourself⊠she wouldnât want that.â He whisper, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as your arms wrap around him, clinging to him like he was your lifeline.
He spoke the truth, heâd already heard plenty about your mother from both you and Jacaerys enough to know that her love for you was beyond what words could ever describe.
Maybe it was the exhaustion⊠the cold⊠or the grief that broke the dam in your eyes, making you cry out in choked sobs against his chest as his fingers brush through your hair soothingly.
âI want to go home CreganâŠâ you beg him through tears, going limp against his sturdy form.
âIâll get you home sweet girl⊠I will.â He promises, not daring to let you go just in case you completely crumble before him. He would keep his oath he made to your mother, to protect you even from your own mind. Cregan would soon take you home but not before you witness your youngest brothers crowning.
ââșââ âŸââșââ ââșââ âŸââșââ ââșââ âŸââșââ ââșââ âŸââșââ ââșââ âŸââș
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