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vesperaominosum · 3 days ago

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Second Reason

@purplerosebouquet asked:

"Heyy! Could you do a res4 Leon x fem reader fic where reader is his colleague/ fellow agent who has a situationship w Leon but he’s getting hung up on Ada and reader is jealous? Maybe even confronting him about it? Lots of angst but good ending 😭"

Summary : You escape burnout by turning your life around and becoming a government agent. Old mistakes haunt you and you find it difficult to replace old problems with the new, especially when you find yourself in a situationship. Pairing : RE4 Leon! × Fem Reader Tags : Angst, angst, ANGST, unreliable narrator, unethical therapy mention, hurt/comfort, slight smut, moderate strong language, slow burn (for a one shot) jealousy, open ending perhaps, reader is not okay and grew up watching cop drama. Word count: 10k A/N: I did NOT proofread it as well as I should've. It starts off as a hard read. but gets better eventually.

You always held pride in your emotional intelligence. It wasn’t superficial, you had a degree in psychology after all, so you knew it to be true. Managed to practice as a therapist for few months before taking time to reflect and turning your life around. It was quite a big stretch to jump from your ideas of becoming a therapist, leaving your straight A student persona behind, ditching those PhD dreams and leaping into a cycle of never-ending physical trainings, on your way to become a government agent. It was a shock to everybody in your life, but to you it wasn’t. Not in any way.

There were two reasons.

First, you mapped up the time, glued up a dream board and realized that it would take you years to finish your academic journey before you could actually do what you intended to. You also realized that watching a lot of daytime TV did you a disservice and planted an unrealistic idea in your head. You wanted to seek our murderers using your knowledge of the human nature. Help the police track the bad guys, interrogate them, wear expensive suits and even go out in the field wearing bulletproof vests with a real gun.

After years in university, this concept revealed itself as unattainable. It would take you decades to even get on a level where your expertise would be sufficient to write a decent report that could be used in court. And no one would ever let you go after criminals with a gun. And what was it about it that drew you in? What were you planning to do exactly in this scenario other than looking good and feeling badass? In case they actually hire you for that job, as a profiler (which would take additional years and expertise), you’d be too old to be physically fit enough for any of the badass visions. And when it came to those visions, you’d have to be too visually old to be taken seriously as a woman in the field anyway. At least some grey hair and wrinkles to get any respect from the men who stepped anywhere near military. It was not at all what you wanted.

Second reason was a bit more personal and way more grounded in reality. You didn’t like to think about it, but you had to be honest with yourself. Sometimes you wished you were a little bit less honest, just in your head. You wanted to sugarcoat things, and ignore problems and patterns, but you couldn’t. Admitting that you wish you could cloud your mind was too, a testament of seeing things clearly. You assessed the situation you got yourself into, and left. You didn’t like thinking about the second reason, it was a little too private, even for your own thoughts.

The third reason, that wasn’t mentioned, was the one you kept repeating to others. It wasn’t mentioned, because it wasn’t entirely true. After all, you couldn’t lie to yourself, but lying to others was easier. You told everyone that therapy was stressful and not at all physically demanding. You got into university with a scholarship because you were an athlete in school and the prospect of growing stiff sitting around and stressing wasn’t alluring. Stress needed a way out. You needed an active job. That was true, you knew it better than most and had a degree to back it up.

Training for becoming a government agent wasn’t easy. You did your best and still couldn’t get in the first year. Nevertheless, you weren’t known for the lack of determination, and soon enough you were an agent. Your dreams of wearing a bulletproof vest and carrying a gun were close enough to grab, if it wasn’t for all the paperwork you were hired to handle.

Didn't take long before you found out they only decided to accept you because of your degree, which to them made you a perfect candidate to process large amounts of information fast and make important connections. Heading straight into severe burnout, you nagged your way into a mission once, where you successfully managed to enter the building without drawing too much attention, and this success turned everyone’s eyes to you, becoming your golden ticket into the world of real missions, where the stakes were high, adrenaline was rushing and your actions actually mattered.

It was your dream life, bulletproof vest, a gun, you signed commands to your teammates, had a codename “Dove” (that you chose yourself) and for the first time in your life you felt in the right place doing the right thing. Your family and friends did not agree.

Every time you got back home, people would ask whether you found yourself a husband, implying that you only got into the field because “that’s where the real men are” since you must've gotten tired of those whiny boys you met in therapy and uni. You were perfectly aware that they tried to devalue your achievements and it made you want to never ever settle down out of spite, which wasn’t healthy, but you couldn’t help yourself. Poor coworkers that were bold enough to try their luck asking you out - got rejected, before you even thought of it. The idea of your family ending up thinking they were right all along and smirking about it for the rest of their lives made you sick. You were emotionally intelligent, yes. It didn’t mean that you were suddenly a robot and their toxicity didn’t get to you. Understanding and admitting this issue was a part of it, keeping it in mind was enough. Besides, it’s sensible to know better than confusing professional with personal.

You had it all figured out at first, the work/life balance thing. While most people in the filed allowed themselves to lack focus, only wishing to go back to their families, or on the contrary, spent all their time working as a distraction from not having any personal life or hobbies - you managed to be right in the middle. Hobbies, friends, self-care, education. At first.

Your optimistic desire to learn and improve yourself led to you taking on all the available courses that work managed to provide, which in turn led to you dealing with things mostly outside of your grade of training. Every time they were short on agents, you came in to help. Never alone, you were still too inexperienced and a woman. Nobody wanted to be responsible for writing you off dead. Even though your work was impressive, sending a young girl on a mission which resulted in her death cold not possibly look good on paper.

You disliked working with most agents. They happened to be arrogant, bad at commutation and for some reason always acted insulted that you were given the same task. It was never about teamwork to them. One of the agents once greeted you with a “Seems like I’m going to be your babysitter for this mission”. You knew better than to bite back, you never spared them the reaction they wanted to get out of you. Always friendly.

It took a toll on your mental health, but it wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was them being nice, making you finally feel accomplished, just to badmouth you behind your back afterwards.

Laugh about you being a burden and whatnot. You knew they just tried to keep up their image, to appear tough to other guys and to make sure everyone knew that they did not take you seriously, so their little crush wouldn't be that apparent. You also knew that everybody knew that, so it wasn’t getting under your skin most days.

Some nights it felt too unfair to ignore, so you imagined telling them off and commanding respect, like the women in those daytime shows you loved to watch as a kid. But every morning you felt too professional and too grounded in reality to pay it any mind. Maybe too small, but it was a secret you kept, unable to grant yourself at least a little courtesy, at least a little white lie, a lie by omission. Some silence that would protect you from self-doubt. Had to be cruel.

That nagging and flattery bothered you up until the moment you got paired with the moodiest agent. It was a brief time, a small task to help him out on a mission, getting into the building pretending to be barista and retrieving a package with intentions to pass it on to him. Got caught in a little bit of a cross fire and ended up helping out beyond your instructions.

He was famous for extreme cases and a cool attitude so you prepared for the worst. To your surprise, he happened to be extremely easy to deal with. A bit cold and he made a weird joke once that almost didn’t seem like a joke coming from him (or at best, for sure didn’t land). You hated that it didn’t go according to plan and prepared to hear all about how you were trusted with something delicate and created problems (even though it wasn’t your fault, it rarely was), but when you learned of his reports praising you for having potential and a fast reaction, you started seeing him in a different light.

Leon Scott Kennedy kind of proved to you wrong just when you started to think you were doomed to drown in self-deprecation before finally quitting. Your higher ups mentioned him giving you positive feedback and you didn’t waste time telling them that you found working with Agent Kennedy productive. He didn’t need your praise, so you praised your synergy. In all the best and seamless ways you knew how to, in order to manipulate them to pair you together more.

Your skills did not disappoint, soon enough you were working together every other mission. You were cautious not to seem annoying, but he had a way to make you feel at ease. He’d smile when you saw each other. He wasn’t a talker, but you didn’t feel any pressure. You were comfortable with his professionalism, it made you feel understood and respected.

After some time working, you were happy to return the favor, tolerated (a fair share of) his weird sense of humor. He’d alert your walkie-talkie with a stern “Dove.” and when you answered, he’d say “Flying high today?”

Made you roll your eyes every time. And finally, you were the one who got to feel annoyed, instead of feeling like you annoyed others.

He appreciated your attitude, sometimes he’d call you up to the shooting range at the base and helped you adjust your aim dealing with a bigger recoil than you were used to.

Maybe it was when he put his strong arms on yours, standing so close behind you without the gear being there to block his body heat from warming your back.

Maybe it was when he asked you if were okay at the end of the day. Maybe it was when he protected you from danger as his first priority every mission. Maybe it was when he trusted you with his life. Maybe it was when he wrapped up the mission before completing the task, because he didn’t want to risk you loosing too much blood due to your injury that one time.

Maybe it was when he texted you later. Lying in your hospital bed, you read “Dove. How’s the flight?”, how it made all the pain irrelevant. How you never answered because you suddenly didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but did everything in your power to hop back to your feet and get back to work. Maybe it was the shift in the energy that you felt once you saw him again, maybe it was the way you noticed how attractive his attitude was (when it was directed at everyone else but you). But you noticed that he certainly had an effect on you.

It was him who was the first to tell you that you’d have to stay put for a while, no feet on the ground, just “remote work”, as he kindly put it.

“Found a way to get rid of me?” - you joked before letting the sadness seep from your tensed up eyebrows straight into your eyes. He noticed and reassured you it’s temporary. And for the better. “If you say so.” was all he got. You were agreeable and there was nothing to discuss really. It was the first time he made you feel hurt. It wasn’t his fault, and you knew it, you were very mature after all. Emotional intelligence. But you still wanted to test if he’d feel bad about it and judging by the sigh that he let out, it worked. Smirk on your face as you walked away.

Same smirk curled up your lips when he came by the headquarters to ask how you’re doing, seeing you in hoodie with your hair down, talking to an intern, a young nerdy guy who was explaining something you pretended to care about.

“Getting comfortable?” – he asked, you weren’t sure if he was referring to your friendliness with an intern or your blunt dress code violations. Truth be told, you knew he was entering the base and let your hair down intentionally.

“Yeah…” – you put a hand through your hair, - “Keep getting headaches staring at the screen for hours and all..., hair ties do not help”.

You noticed his gaze lingering, - “Can’t catch a break, can you?” – he joked.

“Well, if everyone writing me off counts as a break, it’s all I’ve been catching.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” – he rolled his eyes, before looking at the intern, the guy's name was Nail, Neville, Niall something like that. Niall pretended to work behind you, and Leon lowered his voice, softened even, - “you know it’s not like that.”

“I know, I’m just making sure you know I don’t like it.” – you lowered your voice to match his, - “However it is.”

“Came here to make sure of that.” – there was a hint of a smile in his voice as he leaned closer to say that, before pulling away, - “Planned on disrupting your little holiday soon.”

Your eyes sparked, - “You did?”

“Can’t afford all my mentoring go to waste because of one stab wound. Ridiculous.”

“Your mentoring?” – you laughed, watching his relaxed smile for the first time, you liked that smile, - “Sure, that would be criminal.”

Getting back to work was easy, you never really needed that much time off anyway. You’d consider it a waste of time, if it wasn’t for a conformation that Leon cared about you in some way. You got bolder equipped with that knowledge.

Things generally shifted a little. His usual teasing turned into “Dove. Flying high? Both wings intact?”, he switched to a more hands-on approach, moving you around and grabbing your arms to stall you more than usual. He got more comfortable. It was like after your first big injury he got his conformation that you can handle harm and stopped acting like he was responsible for your every step, even though he never was.

Things got more easy until they got more complicated. When adrenaline got the best of you after speed climbing an abandoned military base wall to get away from landmines that were about to be triggered by a fallen satellite tower. Both heaving, lying on the floor, ecstatic that you made it.

Leon crawled his way to you, putting his hand to your side, where you were stabbed (three months ago by now), - “You okay?” - he put his hand on your forehead and brushed his knuckles over your temples, like it will give him any indication.

You sat up slightly. “Yeah…” - grabbing onto his forearm to get up, but getting lost in the vision instead. You both were high on the rush, him almost on top of you, sweat covering your faces, breathing deeply, it was only natural to put your hand on his shoulder and letting him kiss you. Kissing him back. Falling back on the floor, hearing him grunt into your lips as he fell onto you, putting your hand into his hair, pressing him closer, deepening the kiss. You made it out alive. You were so alive.

“Fuck,” – he breathed out between kisses, - “we got to go back”, - he kissed you deeper, as he let his hand grab your chest, moving it to your back, possessively, lifting you up, closer.

You held onto his arm, as if ordering it to stay there. Ordering, begging, approving… Nodding, - “yeah,” – and kissing him back. You both knew this moment might be the only one to steal. It was all there. It was all there was.

But you managed to pull away, the spell was broken and it turned into tension. And you got back without any distractions. Silent on the helicopter, both solemn in your own throughs.

Both planning on how to go about this incident, both trying to keep it professional, without ruining your partnership. Both failing as your off-duty talk turned into you kissing him against the wall of your on-base apartment, his knee between your legs, your hands under his shirt.

The story was: you both had the same monologue prepared, your ideals, sense of professionalism and morals aligned. And since it all aligned anyway, why does it matter?

You were great when it came to team work, you trusted him with your all and he met you in every way possible, every kiss, every thrust, every bite, he even came through with it every time all you needed to cum was to hear him moan.

You managed to keep it professional outside of the bedroom (or any room really where no one could see). It worked. You were too busy for proper relationships, you knew how to make each other feel good, you cared about each other, and you both wanted it. That’s what you kept telling yourself.

But you were a bad liar when it came to facing yourself. You knew damn well that you didn’t want any other proper relationships. You also didn’t want to change how things were, you did not put everything at stake for this career to throw it away on some good dick. Some good dick. Nice shoulders. And strong hands, that held you up, like they designed you and were making sure it stayed in place. Big legs and steady hips, that felt just right every time you came down on them. Firm lips, that took what they wanted. Soft voice that was sharpened with a rasp, always asking if you’re all right, if it’s okay, if you like it, if you’re close. Never had to ask, in his mind he always knew. His mind, always busy. Baby blue eyes, attentive, detached, sad. Ghosts, so many ghosts.

You wanted to take it away, you could. You saw past his exterior, you wanted to repair it, whatever it was. Your past mistakes coming back to the surface. Your second reason. Never could keep any boundaries. Drawn to all the broken things, too invested. You made a bad therapist, an even worse agent as it turned out.

But it was different with Leon, he was on the same page. There was no disbalance, no uncomfortable power dynamic, besides that in the bedroom, where he could easily overpower, holding you down, as you shake, as you pull his hair; him not letting you come down from your high before forcing another round of bliss onto your overstimulated body. No, outside of all that, there was no disbalance. You were on the same page. You were both okay. You were equal. It was better, he wasn’t your client, you didn’t have to feel bad.

You could care about him and it didn’t mean going back to destructive patterns. And it’s only natural for a person to care about another. You weren’t his therapist. You weren’t even his friend. You were just two people who understood what they..., were to each other and who were on the same page. Whatever that page was. He wasn’t letting you down this road alone. He had you. Whatever it meant.

It was special. And you felt like it was all worth it. It was scary to let your mind wonder to places he occupied, but soon enough you had trouble finding any space he didn’t. He was everywhere, like a new puzzle you tried to put together. What shaped him into this man you wanted to disappear into? What weights him down? What was he like as a child? What’s on his mind when you’re not together? What are the missing pieces? What pieces needed mending?

It was not your intention to let yourself get so wrapped up, but it was hard not to when he wrapped your legs around his shoulders, riling up the tug in your stomach with his tongue until your mind went white. So so wrapped up. Messed up. His hair, your body, your thighs, your thoughts.

You cut down on joint missions, couldn’t risk it. Seeing him in action distracted you, it wasn’t safe. He understood. It was hard seeing you in gear. It was really hard.

When you finally learned how to behave, you happened to work together more, couldn’t risk growing too far apart. Had to keep your hands to yourself, your thoughts focused on the task. Despite betting your all on these changes helping you to prioritize your career, you found yourself more ready than ever to throw it all away. Head first into his embrace, you didn’t care about your family gloating about being right, about proving it to yourself that you’re unable to keep anything professional enough. Despite every wall you’ve built. He made it seem worth it. Inviting. Safe. And if you were on the same page…, Were you on the same page? He had to be.

Where was he?

Those thoughts were doomed to be pruned before blooming because you couldn’t let the reality slip away. You had a dangerous job, even if you leave to make it more acceptable for you to be together, he won’t. And you can’t trust yourself to be okay with him putting himself at risk with no means to help out or at least to know what’s going on.

And you couldn’t forget that the only reason you happened to fall into this was out of convenience. Maybe not the only reason, but the main reason. One of the main reasons.

You were sensible, but in your head, you were retired in a house near some sea, lying on a blanket on some beach, reminiscing the old days with a smile with Leon next to you. For now, your goal was to collect as many memories as you could, make sure you have plenty to look back at. He’d be hot with grey hair. He’d kiss your temple and there’d be no ghosts in his eyes by then. You could see it so clearly. You’d love it all down. It would be perfect.

The day you wrapped up another mission (a big round number for you) you started planning the celebration. It was how it was done here. Had to plan ahead, but was way too busy daydreaming.

You knew it would be risky to have other agents, you and Leon at the same table. Add alcohol into picture, and the risk is high. But not inviting a person you owe at least half of the number you’re celebrating to, would be even more suspicious.

Little did you know, the reason why it was the worst idea ever never even crossed mind. The topic of you two wasn’t brough up until most of the guests left, the bar was almost empty, it just you and some of the agents who knew Leon “forever”, to quote them.

“So, Leon keeps snatching up all the ladies?” – came from one of them.

You had no idea if they knew anything or simply insinuated, so you looked taken aback. That’s when the guy added, - “Oh, I’m just kidding. I know Leon does not shit where he eats, not after Ada Wong!”

You didn’t know what to process first. To be relieved you were off the hook, to be disgusted by the phrasing, or to pay attention to the way Leon’s face changed after the mention of the name. He said the guy’s name sternly. A warning.

“Oh sorry, hit a nerve. He doesn’t talk about Ada.” – he finished his beer before adding, - “Would you believe our Mr. Cool over here fell for an enemy out of all people? Now he’s above it all, sure. Let that bitch walk all over and still-”

Leon stood up, - “Shut it. And take her name out of your mouth. You know nothing.”

It was your cue to deescalate the situation, but you just sat there. Silence filled the bar, and Leon walked out.

The guy who brought it up whistled, - “You’d think he’d be over it by now.”

“Hopeless romantic, that one” – cackled another, - “You must be used to his temper by now.” – He looked at you knowingly.

Before they left, you said that you’re were going to stay for a while, you had some business with the bartender. And you did, asked him for something stronger than beer.

At first you waited for Leon to come back, not letting any thoughts seep into your head. It wasn’t the best idea. You were better than this.

Did they know? Did they suspect? Was it their way to warn you?

You knew of Ada Wong, not much. Clearly not enough. It didn’t matter.

Didn’t it?

Whiskey never eased your thoughts, just made them flow more freely. It was a mistake to drink more after what happened. Another mistake.

Was it all a mistake? A thousand thoughts you desperately tried to keep at bay broke the dam and flooded your mind.

So that’s what it was about. Not about you, just him falling back to his habits. How could you judge? You weren’t exactly exhibiting a golden standard of professionalism yourself. It’s not a big deal. You both knew it wasn’t a big deal since the start, on the same page. Were you?

Suddenly everything felt disgusting, the bar, waiting for him felt embarrassing. Your thoughts right now, your dreams earlier. God, you were stupid.

You paid for the drinks and headed out. Bartender asking you something, as you turned to leave, not even listening. That was rude. Disgusting behavior.

It will all go away in the morning. It’s just too much information. Not enough information. Most people your age had past relationships; Leon was a couple years older. It’s not a big deal, he’s a young man with needs.

And you were just there to aid him with that. You had needs too. It was convenient and fair. Never gave any promises. Except that you did.

A lot of silent promises, it was convenient. Didn’t have to follow through if the only person who knew of them was you. Falling asleep was a challenge. You prayed for sleep to take away these thoughts. These feelings. You begged for a clean emotional palette in the morning.

But morning felt heavy on you on your shoulders. Sticky thoughts clinging to your consciousness and spreading like a disease. Embarrassing, grotesque, ugly.

You did your best to pick right through them and cage unwarranted ones. You were an adult.

So what, he had an ex. So, he didn’t want to talk about it with others. So, he didn’t want to be mocked. So what? It makes sense.

Was it because of her? What was it? You wanted to interrogate him, to strap him down to a chair and to get it all out of him. Make him confess it all to you. You deserved it. He owed nothing to you. You were way too mature to think like that.

You knew it was unhealthy since the start, you never learn. You needed a reality check. It felt like a slap in the face; hot, burning. Shame.

You were stupid enough to think you were special. You were stupid enough to overthink it now. Always overcomplicating. Was she the ghost in your eyes?

It wasn’t about you, it was your curiosity that made you walk into the office, wasting your day off, finding the intern you used to flirt with. By the time he got a promotion. Cut his hair differently, training weathered his frame a little, a beard making it's way to his face. Almost handsome. You tried your best to gather a crush, to cling to some dignity. It wasn’t all about Leon, your mind was capable of thinking of other people as well. And when you asked ex-intern to get you all info on Ada Wong he could find, it wasn’t about Leon as well. It was about your case. You saw him as a puzzle after all, it wasn’t personal. Just a curiosity.

Leon looked unaffected, if you weren’t there that evening he got all insulted over a mention of his ex-whatever, wouldn’t have a clue. He’s good at hiding. What else is he hiding? You thought you had your clues, not one.

Reading Ada’s files made you feel stupid. You kept thinking to all these times you thought it was sweet of him to care about you, to train you. You thought he liked feeling like he had something to teach, something to show. You were wrong, if Wong was what he wanted, he found your training sessions pathetic at best. She was better than you, better than him. Is this what he liked? You were so stupid. She was beautiful, not in the way you were.

You learnt all about how she wrapped Leon around her finger, he messed up. It was pathetic of him, embarrassing. You tried your best to transfer those feelings onto him, to project. It didn’t work. He wasn’t pathetic, he was this hopeless romantic with a ghost of a lover in his eyes. A woman who managed to steal her way into his heart even after betrayal. That wasn’t pathetic. You were, collecting any piece of information about her that you could. Now that was pathetic.

How you wanted to solve this puzzle, convinced that once you do, it will let you go. Set you free. You couldn’t possibly spend much longer on his leash. Tracking all your thoughts to him. To her.

They made you feel sick. You hated her for disrupting your fairytale. You hated him for not playing his part right. You hated yourself for allowing this fairytale to take roots.

It was stupid. You had so many guys after you in university, so many people at work who’d die to ask you out. You had all the cards when it came to dating, and you knew it. But you felt stupid and ugly. It was like all the miserable scenarios; all your jealousy seeped its way through your skin and you had to wear it heavy on your face. Ugly.

He ruined everything. He was not responsible for your feelings. You took pride in your emotional intelligence. Even that, he managed to take away from you. It was all tainted.

You weren’t jealous, just disgusted with yourself. Ashamed of being naïve. Ashamed of your thoughts and reactions. Was it even her real name? Ada Wong. Seemed fake. She surely made that up, who in their right mind uses a real name with a job like hers? If you can even count it as a job.

You wondered if Leon knew her real name. He knew of her nature, knew what she was doing for a living, he killed people for less. And yet couldn’t stand someone speaking badly of her. Left you alone.

Maybe it was a way to escape the conversation, maybe he knew something, knew these people and knew they would dig to find the truth about your affair if he stayed. This had to stop. You couldn’t afford to advocate for him just to justify your lack of maturity. You had sex because you were two adults in close proximity who happened to find each other attractive enough. That was it. Any complications will only hurt down the road.

The urge to shut off and be cold was as immature as it was natural. You could not force yourself to be any different. Couldn’t let go of the only shield that you knew, even though you knew it was childish, you knew it was wrong. You know it, you knew it all. You were smart. You were beautiful, you were capable and daring and independent. Why on earth did you do this to yourself?

You were miserable.

You had to let this go. It was in your head. Ada Wong was nowhere to be found, she was an evil, horrible person who betrayed people, a criminal with no regards for anything other than money. If Leon fell for it, he’s pathetic. You had a moral high ground in the situation regardless of any circumstance. At least you weren’t a criminal. The days you spent in therapy came to your mind. That was unethical, not illegal. It would be considered illegal in some states.

You weren’t a bad person.

Seeing Leon on duty was easier than you anticipated. Acting like you didn’t drag your dignity through the mud was harder, but you managed. Made it work.

A little more quiet than usual, but it was fitting for the mission. You flew over to another country to assist Secret Service agents responsible for president’s safety by tracking down the shooter. They knew assassination attempt was planned, but couldn’t risk to let it be carried out, so you had to track down whoever was smart enough not to die by being too bold, but dumb enough to be entangled in this mess. Not very physically demanding for the most part, a lot to do with getting into the head of someone who puts their life on a line to do something stupid.

Daytime shows always portrayed these criminals as some genius people who had a plan and an ideology. Reality was disappointing; it was mostly poor people with no education, desperate enough to do any “job” for a promise of money they never end up seeing. Their handlers weren’t much smarter, bribed to organize the mess you had to take care of because violence pays.

They were all stupid at the end of the day, putting their lives at risk for money. Just like Ada Wong. She was less stupid than your regular criminal, had to give her that. Maybe that’s why she was able to leave such a lasting impression. She’s just like a daytime TV drama character.

So smart and horrible, but since she’s sexy and rich, it can all be forgiven, it makes her cool. Was she rich? No idea, but she had to be, a lot of money involved in the field, if you can even call it that. Surely, she was sexy, you saw the photos that were in the system. Studied the 3D model of her face that was created to identify her under all the wigs and disguises just in case. You looked at her face for hours imagining Leon kissing her lips, what it would feel like. Desensitize yourself, so you don’t get visually bothered next time someone brings her up. To understand him better, perhaps, he was just a puzzle at the end of the day. You were invested as a phycologist; it was essentially just research.

“Missing the action?”

“What?” – you looked at Leon, who was setting up yet another spyglass set (that looked more like a telescope fit to see what was happening on Mars) in the empty apartment you were stuck at.

“Looks like you’re not enjoying our little getaway.”

“That’s not a getaway, Leon, we’re on duty.”

“Could be worse.” – a sly smile as he adjusted the lens, eyes hidden by the steel tube.

Fuck, he was hot. You knew better than to open your mouth, feeling the word vomit coming up. You were going to mention her name, if you kept talking. This whole thing turned into obsession that wasn’t healthy. Let it go.

There are ways to process those emotions. Therapists can provide valuable assistance in dealing with feelings of jealousy over a partner's ex by offering various strategies and approaches. You’re capable.

Understanding Emotions. Exploring and understanding the roots of this jealousy. Was it insecurity? Fear of abandonment? You had nothing to be insecure about. And there’s no abandonment if you weren’t an item in the first place. Knowing someone could be this close to you and not head over heels might have hurt your self-esteem. So, he was kissing your neck as your bodies collided, but it wasn’t enough to forget another woman. Like you weren’t that special. That hurt, we all want to be special. Sometimes you felt your pride suffer when a barista ignored your smile as they gave you your coffee. That rarely happened, maybe once. But you still remember. It was an issue to work on. Nothing to do with Ada Wong.

Cognitive Restructuring. Cognitive-behavioral techniques were useless on you, you had no irrational thoughts. You got high on feelings, got hurt, humbled and it was an uncomfortable situation to deal with. Your negative thought patterns associated with jealousy were mostly about your pride. It wasn’t about other people. They had no control over you.

Communication Skills. There was no point in talking about something you created in your own head. You were not in a relationship with Leon, you did not know the Wong girl, whatever her real name was. It was about you and your self-esteem issues. Thinking it through was enough.

So, building self-esteem was the way. What were you defined as that you took most pride in? It used to be your academic achievements. You gave it up. Your job? Where you really any better than hired criminals who put their lives at risk for someone else? Where you really that much better than Ada fucking Wong?

There was no pride in your job anymore. Daytime TV lied and you weren’t even the best at what you were doing. Did you find pride in your looks? Yes, but now that you were used as a fuck doll, it was pretty hard to do it. Your maturity and emotional intelligence? Not when you were crushing out because a co-worker you screw for fun has an ex he didn't manage to get over. As if it matters in any capacity. Ridiculous how you let yourself get so low. All this inadequacy and competitiveness was a result of doing a job you did not even like anymore. A burnout.

Mindfulness and Emotional Regulation. You had to regulate any and every ugly thought, filter your goddamn mind. No more wallowing.

Setting Boundaries. It wasn’t even an affair; you were just helping each other to blow off steam. You had to trust each other with your bodies at work, it worked. Could trust each other with your bodies off work; not a big deal.

Had to reframe the relationship in your head. Remind yourself of the frame.

Comparative Analysis. Ada was nowhere to be found. Hiding like a criminal, that she was. And you were there. There was no way she could realistically get in the way of you living your life, and even if that happens? She can have him and moody ass any time. You do not need his energy bringing you down anyway. She can play these mind games with him; you just liked the way his body felt. The rest was hormones, you must’ve been very hormonal when you made all these things up. And you analyzed him because you missed your true calling.

Finally, the curse is broken. You took a sip of hot green tea, relaxing into the sofa in your hotel room. It was nice to be back, to not feel guilty, to finally make sense out of everything.

A knock on the door. Leon, Leon, Leon. So predictable. You debated opening the door for a split second before realizing that it’s a perfect opportunity to prove to yourself that you can finally trust your mind to not act like a lunatic. Essential even.

“Hey, I thought…” – he couldn’t finish his excuse, before you grabbed his shirt and tugged him inside, put him up against the wall. He looked at your hands, taken aback slightly; like it wasn’t what he came for. So charming, just how you like him.

You kissed his jaw, broad kisses travelling down his neck, - “Now that’s a gateway”, - you smiled as your hands dropped to the belt and felt up his thighs, teasing.

“Yeah…”, - he swallowed, throwing back his head slightly. Like he was contemplating something. You felt his neck move under your lips and it made you think of all the ways his body could move, will move in few minutes, the bottom of your stomach feeling tense, - “I thought… Had to check up on you” – he hissed as you bit above his shoulder.

“Check up on me, huh? I got a couple ideas…” – the hands on his pants circling closer to bulge that was very much prominent at this point.

“You must have some ideas” – he let out a breath, brows knitting slightly, - “Spent so much time at the office lately.”

You laughed, so silly. Did he keep track of your whereabouts? Waited for you to be available? – “Mhm… I have friends there.” – the circle came to a point and you palmed him, squeezing lightly.

“Like that Niall guy? What’s his name?”, - he tilted his head down to look at you, fast enough for you not to see it coming, you found yourself scared you might accidently kiss his lips. It terrified you for some reason, so you sank lower.

And lower, - “You’re thinking about me with Niall?” – slowly stroking the outline clear under his clothes, - “Does it turn you on?”

“What?” – he made a face, scrunching his nose, - “No”.

Hilarious, - “What about us three together?” – a frustrated huff through the nose, - “What about us three but with another girl?” – you picked up the pace, undoing the belt with a free hand, it was so entertaining riling him up, all this frustration, he could let it all out on you.

He called your name in that assertive tone that you liked, made you laugh as you licked the skin between the pants and a shirt, - “What if it was Ada Wong?”

He said your name again, catching both of your hands in a tight grip. Had to ruin all the fun.

“Come on, what now?” – you whined, rolling your eyes.

He yanked you up to your feet and looked at you. Studying, disappointed, accusing. What did you do?

You started at each other for a moment. You didn’t do silent treatment. “What?” – you repeated, this time more genuine annoyance in your tone, - “Use your words, Leon, fuck. I’m too tired for this.”

That look of a disappointed parent. Or a pet owner, - “Get some rest then.” – so full of it as he set in motion.

“No need to react this way, threesomes aren’t for everybody.”

“And don’t,” – he closed the door before lecturing you more, - “Don’t ever mention her name."

“Fine!” – you exclaimed, raising your eyebrows, - “Jeez, thought she made you hard, didn’t know she was such a boner killer.”

“You don’t know anything about her.”

“Fine! And I don’t want to!” – he wanted to act like an angry dad, you could match. It didn’t sound at all like you wanted, you didn’t have the authority in that scream to back it up; so, you stood there in silence for a slip second, - “Get out.”

The sound of the door closing felt like a punch to the core, a sob coming straight from your ribs before you chocked it with a hand to mouth. Pressing hard, tears flooding your fingers, tickling.

So fucking stupid. Everything was so fucking stupid. It hurt that you were just another fling at work, yes. But it hurt more that she wasn’t.

You hated her. You couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. You wanted to die.

The pain in his eyes, the disappointment. Did she do this to him? The ghost in his eyes? Was she the one who could make it go away? The burn in your chest rang up your ears and breathing got harder.

If she was so dear to him, you’d find her. Set them up together. And then you’d die. Horribly. You’d fall off a cliff, rocks breaking every bone and smashing away your body parts and then some… Some wild dogs would tear you to pieces and he’d watch. And before the fall someone would shoot you like ninety times. Straight to the heart, and then you’d fall. And as those wild dogs ate your flesh, they’d growl loudly. And he wouldn’t care.

He would be happy with his glorified criminal knowing that you died for it. And you’re the only reason he got to be happy. And it would… It would haunt him forever. He would look at Ada and see your ghost. Finally, she would be the one dealing with the ghost of you staring back from his beautiful eyes.

You were mature and rational. And you’d rather be dead than live through this.

You never learned how to lie to yourself, no matter the effort. It was never meaningless to you; it was larger than what you allowed yourself to dream of. And he was never a puzzle.

He was the only person who made you feel like you had nothing to prove. Like you were worth the effort with no payback. And you had such deep respect and love for him. It hurt to admit. Knowing that your feelings were yours alone. It hurt to know that truth.

That all these times he trained you, he missed his very much skilled lover. That every moment that was meaningful to you, was just a distraction for him.

You didn’t want to be small, your ego was through so much, but maybe it was the lesson you had to learn. To let go of that thing that stalled you every time you made a mistake.

You weren’t special, nobody cares if you’re in the right, if you’re better, smarter, ethical. So, it’s okay if you fall short. That you’re going to live through this.

You are going to live through this.

Last day of the mission the weather was mockingly good. Feathered clouds hugging the sun just enough to soften the rays that danced on the ground as if they were playing hide and seek with the wind. Daytime TV always matched the weather to the feelings of the main character. Maybe you weren’t. Not even special enough for the weather to reflect your turmoil. It made you smile, the realization. Bittersweet, but you could handle knowing this truth, so you could handle the rest.

Leon was even more brooding than ever, weather didn’t pick him as the main character either. You were both doomed. Warm wind merrily moved his hair, as if it was pleading “Play with me, play with me, Leon!”. He didn’t care for it.

Leon noticed you looking at him, tucking his radio set in a pocket, he was about to say something when you interrupted, - “I’m quitting.”

The wind decided to try you this time, tickling your face by messing up the hair and exposing your neck, you smiled. That wind reminded you of a little kid. You weren't in the mood to play, sorry.

Leon nodded, said “Okay, we’ll get back to that” and picked up the radio set. Just like he would if you weren’t there. Just like he will.

Sure, but there was nothing to discuss. He could go back to whatever he wanted.

The flight home was silent. It was nice to be on a plane for a change, a private jet, not being thrown into the helicopter. You realized you never got to say goodbye to those views out of that noisy flying box. You never knew your last helicopter work transfer would be your last the last time you were there. Funny how things work. You have it all figured out and before you know it, everything changes and you don’t know whose body you’re in. Who is this strange person? What will this person do? Will it feel familiar ever again? Will it feel like home inside your skin?

Your blue-eyed partner spent the flight staring at the window, deep in his thoughts, up until he decided to occupy the seat next to you, leaving quite a bit of space, like you might not be safe to get close to.

“Hey…” - his voice soft, you’d like to remember that voice instead the one that he used earlier, - “Listen… Did something happen? Is it your family? Did something happen at home?”

The tenderness in which he carefully approached almost surprised you. You looked at him.

“You’ve been… I’ve never seen you like this. Noticed for a while… Now you want to quit.” – he glanced and looked away, not to pressure, - “You know, you can tell me”.

You slowly shook your head, - “Nothing happened.”

Silence once more claimed the cabin. It was comforting to have him around, not too close, just there, - “You spent so much time at the office lately. Reading, studying… Do you miss it? Want to go back?”

You looked at him, indifferent yet with so much pain in your eyes, tired, raised your shoulders in a little shrug. You looked so broken.

“You know… I understand. I had my moments… I was the best at the academy, put my all into it, and when I… When I graduated and it hit me that you can’t always measure… How good you did something…”

He was truly good. You could never paint him a villain in your story. Not even when he hurt you. He managed to find the root of the problem, you missing the career you left behind, dodging every shameful detail. Took your time spent studying as something upstanding instead of what it was, dignified your most embarrassing lows. You really loved him. And it tugged on your shattered heart.

“What are you doing?” – you asked him kindly, his attention fully yours, - “You don’t have to mentor me…” – you reached out and put your hand on his, comforting. It was okay.

A warm look, those blue eyes studying yours, looking for something, - “I’m not…”

“It’s okay.” – Gave him a bittersweet smile.

He took your hand in his. Strong warm fingers, brushing carefully, - “The sky is going to be lonely without you, Dove.” – you hummed, humoring the joke, - “I’m going to be lonely.” – he added, it hurt.

You sighed, - “You’ll find another.” - Took your hand away, - “You and the sky.” – There was no malice in those words, you truly meant it, - “After all it’s not your first affair at work. Won’t be last.” – it was comforting to finally accept it. Accept it to the point where you could say it and not feel rage. It broke your heart, but you’d learn how live with it. It wasn’t your first affair at work as well, after all.

Silence was cushioned by the mellow sound of the engine, white noise; after some time, he got closer and you put your head on his shoulder. He kissed your head as you pretended to fall asleep. It was something that will always stay with you. Had no photographs, it was too late to borrow his clothes, nothing. Just this one memory that wasn’t tainted by jealousy. That wasn’t butchered by an autopsy and fragmented into pieces to be devalued in a shrewd attempt to glue your ego back together. And it was nice. He was nice. It was okay.

You sat up straight when you were convinced that Leon fell asleep, looked at him, expecting to memorize his features. To your surprise, he was awake, completely still. You could swear his eyelashes were more matted than before. Your poor baby, it wasn’t worth it.

“You know… Ada.” – his voice heavy. Oh. Well, perhaps that was worth it. Perhaps she was, - “We met… Few times. She was the one who took something from me. Made it impossible to care for others.” – That explains it. Finally, the puzzle is coming along. Your goal is about to be complete and there’d be nothing left to do here. You almost didn’t want to know all the answers of why he couldn’t ever care about you, - “I spent years thinking I gave my heart in vain. I was so sure all I was good for was to be used.” – hearing him say that was devastating, - “But when I met her again. I figured it wasn’t like that. She saved me, more than once. More than in one sense. She really cared. She did. But she couldn’t act on it, fully, because she wasn’t free. It wasn’t me who was good for nothing. It was her, refusing to let go of her cage. I owe it to her, recognizing that there’s something worth breaking the rules and cages for, and if you don’t…”

“You embody the cage that trapped you?”

He nodded, - “Hollow.”

You wanted to move to hug him, to hold his hand, anything, but he wasn’t done.

“So, I owe it to her. Nobody gets it. I owe it to her to not end up the same. I know that she l…- “– he bit his lip, angry at himself for some reason, - “She loved me. I know it. She had love in her. And she walked away from it. So, I promised myself not be like that.” – there was a build up in his tone, what seemed to be a sob story about his one true love, was revealing itself a charged speech that was about to go off, - “So you may it call an affair, us, but I cannot agree with this. I don’t. And if you want to treat it that way, it’s your call. But you have to be honest with yourself.”

That was a lot to process. A lot of cracks in your theories to fill. What kind of strategy is this? What was he getting you into? This is disruptive, it made you uncomfortable.

“Understand that. I care, okay?” – he nudged your shoulder, - “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m all ears.”

That last phrase sounded a lot like “I’m all yours” to you at first and when the realization of what he actually said hit, you found yourself looking for an escape from that corner he got you in. You’re hearing what you want to hear again. That’s unhealthy.

That man didn’t even belong to himself. Despite what he’s saying, he’s a lot like Ada, a thought ran through your head. He saw so much of himself in her, and he didn’t like it. He must’ve seen enough of goodness in her to not give up on himself in that case. You spent so much time cursing the woman who in actuality convinced him to care about you, if you buy what he says. Did he have a reason to lie? Where you becoming just like them? Jaded.

Above all, she saved his life. You owed it to her. And in that moment, it hit you all at once. The stress you’ve been under. The idea of Leon dying, not being able to talk to him again, to touch him. Ada Wong and her love that she never got to share. Was it fair that she saved him for someone else? Where was she? How was she? Were you experiencing ego death?

Your eyes hurt, tears filling up the corners, chocked up, - “I’m so tired.”

Leon must’ve pulled you in, because for a moment, the world narrowed down to black, feeling of wet cheeks against a fabric, the sound of your heart pounding in your ears, temples pulsing, and it smelled like him. Must’ve been an awkward position, couldn’t tell where your limbs were, but you felt his hands caressing the back of your head, rubbing your back; you stayed like that till you breathing evened out, and you wiped your face, standing up and excusing yourself to go wash your face.

When you came back, he offered you a water bottle without saying a word.

Lingering sadness in the air. What a wild mess. Who are you going to be when you walk out of the jet?

“How can I help?” – poor guy looked genuinely worried, was probably convinced something bad happened and you were going through a lot. Maybe you were.

You shook your head and he dropped it.

Usually, he’d carry the bags with equipment out to the storage facility once you land, a courtesy to the staff. This time he followed you, calling your name and on land you felt more strangely claustrophobic next to him, more so than in a tiny cabin in the skies, so you quickened you pace, hearing him call your name. Dangerously bad at goodbyes, so much for being mature, you just took off and ran. You wanted out.

Leon caught up to you, trapping you in an empty hallway, both of his hands against the cold white walls, your shoulders in between, didn’t touch you, but you knew you couldn’t get away easily. You whined and closed your eyes, when will this interrogation stop? You wanted to sleep.

He got closer, studying your swollen face intensely, traced your jawline with his nose, pressed a soft kiss onto your lips, the corner of your mouth, to the side of your nose, you tried to push the man away; your palms on his chest, but he grabbed your hands by the wrists and pinned them to a wall, next to your face. So dependent and reactive, every time one of you got tougher, the other got weaker. It was obvious what was coming, you had no strength in you left to fight it, it wasn’t clear why you were fighting it to begin with. He kissed your lips, soft and intimate. A deep kiss, slow, it was the most vulnerable thing between you to this day. Heartbreaking, for no reason at all. His hand, cupped your face, as soon as he felt tears on the lips, then he took your face in both, - “Fuck, not this…” – he kissed your cheeks, stroking your jaw; rough hands suddenly tender and careful, - “Please, baby…”

You clung to his neck, hiding, gripping, he picked you up, held closely, before sliding down the wall, squeezing you in his arms, like you’d fall apart if he were to let go. It was true.

You were so scared of letting go of the life you grew to be familiar with. Scared of starting it all again. Scared of facing the truth that running away from problems was the biggest problem of them all. Scared of letting another person in, the one who had too much power over you, who had an affect on you so profound you were no longer the one in control. Scared of not letting him in and ending up alone. Scared of loud noises because of all the blood and the pain. Scared of this job traumatizing you for life for no good reason.

Someone appeared from the left side of the hallway, you heard rushed footsteps echoing and a worried voice, - “Is everything alright?”

Scared of footsteps.

“Need a medic.” – Leon’s voice firm, full of urgency.

You felt like you were going to die.

You didn’t die though, and no one did. Got looked at, got a strong prescription, got sent home. Got a service dog, kept you active as well as safe and alert when it got worse. Leon loved that dog, sometimes it even made you slightly jealous, making you laugh at how immature you could be. You quit. On your way of getting a PhD, working on most severe PTSD cases and yet still sometimes jealous over the silliest things like your boyfriend paying too much attention to your dog. It was hard to stay jealous through, catching Leon’s adoring eyes every now and then as he watched you. And he loved watching you; as you were studying, writing, doing chores, cooking, walking, playing with the dog. You never wondered what was it, never tried to read his mind. His mind was his and you trusted him with it. Couldn’t see far enough into the future, but you trusted him with it too.

_____________

I typed a lot straight to tumblr at the end there and if doesn't go through i'm gonna kms bc it will be lost forever

#aaaaaaa #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon x you #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x ada wong #angst #hurt/comfort #ao3 #fanfic #leon x reader #resident evil #re4 leon

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lostinlovingrevery · 3 days ago

Text

Audience

Worst Wolverine X F! Reader

You put yourself in a dangerous situation and Logan didn't appreciate it

A/N: This is just a silly lil fic, it was originally planned to be smth else but I changed my mind but didn't want to get rid of what I had!

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, Marvel cameos, blood mention, Reader having no survival instinct lol, Logan gets mad at reader, fluff at the end! suggestive ending ;)

You’re not quite sure what happened.

You were just enjoying a simple afternoon at your favorite coffee shop. You got your sweet treat, a caramel cider, and a strawberry donut - delicious. It’d been a nice day, sunny, warm, so you sat outside at one of the little tables offered out there. Took the day off from work- just because. Someone complimented your new dress!

The only bummer was that your boyfriend couldn’t make it. Logan called, his voice being more unusually angry than it is on the phone, told you he wouldn’t be able to make it to your planned coffee date. Said that something came up- you swear you heard Wade in the background during this conversation. Decided to not ask why, if it involves Wade, you don’t wanna know. Logan promised he’d make it up to you, and knowing him, he will.

So you enjoyed your solo coffee date, while you did miss Logan, it was quiet- rarely do you get a moment to yourself. Then you heard the sounds of fighting- a few screams, and people running away. You stood up from your chair, eyes searching for the supposed chaos that was happening. All you saw was people running, some looking more disheveled than others. You caught one woman by her arm,

“What’s happening?”

“A bunch of those-..UGH! mutant freaks are fighting it out!” She shakes her head, escaping your grip and continuing to run.

Mutant-?

Oh.

Against your better judgement, you had to confirm her words. You ran against the crowd, people shoving you to the side but you ignored it, too curious- wanting to see what was happening. If it’s what you think it is, you couldn’t miss out.

You reached the corner, an intersection. When you looked left, that’s when you saw it. Cars tossed on their side. Multiple police cars, police barricades, a few swat trucks.

A really big dude with a helmet on, a guy with a metal arm-

no, not that one, the other one,

a familiar asshole in red spandex, a second guy in re- holy shit, is that Spiderman?

The scene was chaotic. Some of the costumed heros you didn’t know, all of them fighting against the big dude, and if you knew your lore right- you could guess that it was Juggernaut. When Wade would go on his drunken rants about his adventures with a groups of misfits, he mentioned that he had no clue what happened to Juggernaut after he was well…You rather not repeat how Wade described it.

You saw a flash of yellow, and you recognized it as your man, and you were quickly vexed. You knew better though, this was dangerous- you should leave.

As you turned to run down the street, you heard a commotion, and then a car landed right in front of you- inches from your face. You couldn’t even let out a sound. You way was a bit….blocked, so you opted to hid yourself behind a street tree and watch the fight go down- and see Logan in action.

The fight was intense. Juggernaut was strong, fast. You watched him power through multiple cars and barricades, tossing various heros aside as he charged after Logan. His stomping rumbled the ground below you, and your heard the windows of the apartment building behind you shake with each step, threatening to break.

You gasped as he reached Logan, but instead of Logan getting pummeled to death, he holds his own. Snarling with gritted teeth, he threw the first punch. The metal clang the echoed through the street sent made you wince, putting your nerves on edge.

Logan may have metal bones but that could not have felt good.

A few punches are thrown at each other- both taking them well. Logans claws came out, as he roared. One leap and hes on Juggernauts back, stabbing his claws into the giants shoulders. Spiderman (woah!) comes swinging in, using his webs to wrap around his legs, knocking Juggernaut down to the ground.

You really wanted to cheer- but decided that you should probably keep your mouth shut since you don’t believe anyone has spotted you yet, best to be kept that way. Logan probably wouldn’t appreciate you putting yourself in a potential path of danger just because you wanted to be a fangirl.

The victory didn’t last long. Spidey’s webs quickly torn as the Juggernaut pulled Logan off and tossed him to the side- which he landed into the side of the car, creating an ginormous dent into the metal and breaking the windows. He lunged after spiderman, who jumped away. Wade charged after him next, sticking his katanas into his side. Juggernaut- seemed unaffected, grabbed Wade and-

You looked away, not wanting to see his arms be torn off. Again.

Logan snarled again, having removed himself from the car, he lunged onto Juggernauts back once as he drops Wades limbs to the ground. You watching his arms hooks around his shoulders, locking his arms from being able to grab Logan again.

You couldn’t deny, seeing Logan fighting- way hotter than it should be. You’ve seen him fight before, typical bar fights, usually ones where he gets pissed because some guy had the nerve to check you out right in front of him.

While you didn’t believe the fighting was neccessary, you did love Logan defending your honor.

This time though, there was something particularly attractive. Maybe it was the suit. You never saw it on him completely- Only the pants and the cowl. The first time you met, he and Wade had walked by your apartment as you were leaving, looking like they came out of hell. You didn’t even know Logan got his suit repaired, a suspicion that Wade was likely behind it.

Either way, Logan looked damn good with that suit.

Logan seemed to have frozen for a moment, and you watched with confusion as he hold on the Juggernaut loosens, who eventually grabbed Logan and throws him across the street, right next to you.

He slams into the brick of the building, creating a divot in the wall, as pieces crumbled around him. He groaned, cursing under his breath and his head lfits up- and sees you staring back at him with wide eyes.

You smile awkwardly, and gave him a small wave.

“Hi baby-”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” He snarls as he pushes himself out of the building. Stomping over to you, pieces of brick and dust fell off his shoulder. You cowered, like a child being scolded. In the background, Spiderman, Cable, and a few others attempt to fight off Juggernaut. Wade was spinning around- armless, and blood shooting out, he was thrusting his shoulders forward side to side as if he was throwing punches with his arms, abandoned nearby.

“Well I- I was just in the neighborhood and I saw you-”

“You should not be here!” His voice turned low and angry. You press your lips together.

“Well-” You stammered, trying to think of an excuse, gesturing to him and the fight happening besides you both on the street. “What about you- You canceled our date for work?!”

He stares at you incredously. You sigh, dropping your shoulders, “That’s not gonna work.…”

He stuck a finger in your face. “Go home. We’ll talk about this later.” He sneers, but honestly,it only turned you on more. The anger, just barely concealed by his mask with his lips curled back and his teeth bared, the way he towered over you. The suit stretched over his muscles…

You noticed his nostrils flare, but before he could say anything, a large piece of debris was thrown at you both, in which he grabbed you and dodged it, careful to make sure no harm came to you.

“You need to get the hell out of here-” He says, concealing you from the fight. He looks around, searching for a safe and quick escape route for you. Just then, Spiderman had landed next to the both of you. “You-” He pointed at him, waving him over.

“Oh- Yeah? Mr.Wolverine sir?”

“Just…Wolverine.” Logan shook his head. “Take her home.” He motions to you with his hand.

“I can get home by myself-” You stopped, and looked at the spider hero with confusion. “Are you a teenager?” You ask, upon hearing his slightly higher pitched voice.

“No!”

“You couldn’t even stay away from a fight!” Logan snaps at you. You put your hands on your hips.

“Lo- Wolverine- Don’t you talk to me like that!” You snapped back.

“Uh so what am I doing?” Spiderman says awkwardly, clapping his hands together and bouncing on the heels of his feet.

“She lives on Elm street.” Logan says. Actually, you both live on Elm street. You were going to correct him- for no real reason, but was interrupted.

“You-”

Juggernaut lets out a yell, and starts charging towards you three. Logan snarls, getting into position to fight.

“Take her!”

“Right!” Spidey, grabs onto you, “Hi ma’am!”

He shoots a web, and you’re before lifted off the ground just into time, as Juggernaut slams into Logan and the fight continues. You’re screaming, clinging to the young hero in fear as he swings from building to building.

“So, like- are you and Wolverine a thing?” He asks amidst your screams.

You’re back home now. You’ve been anxiously cleaning, doing laundry, even cleaned out the fridge. Waiting for Logan- and the inevitable scolding he was going to give you. You were preparing all sorts of arguments. Like, why didn’t you tell me you were going back to superhero business?

Which you were a tad butthurt about. He canceled your date, that doesn’t upset you- but he could have been honest about why.

Just as you sat down, thats when the door to your apartment opened and Logan stepped in. He was still wearing his suit and cowl, although it was a bit torn and dirtied up now.

You stood up from your chair, fiddling with your hands nervously as you looked at him. He stepped inside, a frown on his face as he slammed the door shut behind him. He turned, making sure to click the lock shut.

“Logan-”

“Save it.”

He walks over to you, and you made yourself smaller to him. Looking up at him with big, innocent eyes. You pout your lip.

“Don’t make yourself cute.” He shook his head. “That was stupid. That was really fucking stupid. You could have gotten killed! What if I wasn’t there? The others couldn’t stop him! What if he went after you, you-” He stopped himself, a small shake of his lips, a flare of his nostrils- you could see he was trying to calm himself down.

“I-” You opened your mouth to defend yourself, and closed it. Surprised to see so much emotion coming from him. “Yeah, I know.” You looked down, with a dejected tone. “I was originally going to leave and then this car got thrown at me and-”

“That’s exactly why you shouldn’t have been there.” His tone becomes less angry, and more firm. “What was the point? Huh?”

“Well I….” You bit your lip looking away. “I just, I guess I wanted to see you in action. Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing?”

He stares at you, and lets out a sigh. He pulled down the cowl, so you could see him completely. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s dangerous.” He says. “Everyone….Everyone I knew that was apart of this stuff. They….”

You stepped closer to him, putting a hand on his chest. “I’m fine Logan. Aside from that terrifying trip with Spidey-”

“Spidey?”

“He’s a pretty sweet kid actually.”

Logan sighs. “I could smell you. While I was fighting, and it fucking terrified me. I didn’t know how or why you were there. Didn’t even know where you were till I finally saw you.”

“When the fighting started I ran to see what was happening. I thought maybe it was Wade pulling his usual antics, or the X-men. I actually didn’t expect to see you.” You explain. “It was kinda cool to see you in action though…”

“Bub, listen.” He puts his hands on your arms, pulling you closer. “You can’t be doing that shit. It’s dangerous. You could get hurt, or worse. I can’t have that.”

You looked at him, hearing the sincerity of his voice, the concern. It’s not something you heard from him before. Logan was always a bit gruff, had a bit trouble talking about his feelings but you were okay with that because you were always willing to put in the effort to make things work. Slowly, you nodded.

“Lo?” You say his name softly.

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this?” You ask. “I thought you said you were done with the superhero stuff. After everything you’ve been through.”

He was silent. Not answering initially, You could see he was thinking in his head what he wanted to say. You half-expected a bullshit excuse, or him blaming Wade, dragging him into it or something.

“You.” He says. “I’m doing it for you. To be better.”

You took in his answer, and once processed, you didn’t hesitate to kiss him. Your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He immediately returned the sentiment, wrapping his around you tightly. His lips moved eagerly against yours, before nipping at your bottom lip- eliciting giggles from you.

“Still pent up huh?” You muttered against him.

“Want to find out?” He grumbled, pulling your hips against his.

“Mm…I love the suit by the way.” You hummed. “Mister Superhero.”

“Ah- Don’t call me that.”

“Alright, Wolverine.”

“Better. Much better.”

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #vans daydreams #logan howlett fic #worst wolverine #worst wolverine x reader #wolverine fluff

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camzeecorner · 16 hours ago

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𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙾 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶

the weekend had went by faster than what both you and chris had expected. it was filled with excitement and laughter the more time the two of you spent together. chris never thought he’d find the person who made him laugh so hard, or even make him feel seen. but he was wrong. Y/n showed chris more love then what he’d ever received in his entire life. two days was all it took to bring his smile back.

at least that what he thought. chris stood outside of the big doors of school, his feet shuffled against the pavement as he paced frantically around, trying to build the courage to walk in. it was silly how he felt almost unstoppable around you, but alone he just felt.. empty. like he wasn’t his own person capable of doing things himself.

he tried giving himself pep talks telling himself it was going to be okay, but nothing seemed to worked. he was nervous, he had his freedom and now it was over. he couldn’t just walk away, he needed to see you. he wanted to feel you again. it was something about you that made him feel so special, so here he was trying to overcome this darkness just for you.

chris stared at the glass doors watching as students walked pass through the halls, he bit down on his lips as he slowly shook his head. he had to do this, he needed to go in. why was it so hard, was he really just going to let them win. as more minutes rolled by chris only began to grow more and more angry with himself.

as chris inhaled a deep and sharp breath he tightly shut his eyes before swinging the large doors open. he could feel the cold air from inside come into contact with his body. he released his breath and he swallowed the spit that began to pool in his mouth.

slowly stepping forward he started to walk carefully in the halls. he was scared of course, he didn’t want to bump into anyone. but he felt a little less nervous with each step he took, feeling as confidence bounced from his body.

chris was feeling good, not perfect but better. he knew he had it in him to take his leap of faith. he knew if anything was to go wrong you’d be right there, waiting to fight his battles your friends put him through.

as chris turned the hallway he was met with the usual crowd of students. he eyes scanned the area not stopping till he seen your familiar face. just as he began to grow hopeless, he was met with your perfect face. you were laughing at something your friend had said, you’d never looked more beautiful.

feeling his feet move faster than his mind he began to speed walk towards you. his breath was heavy and his bag thumped against him with each step. just as he was close enough to call out to you his body collided with the floor. a small thud sound was heard making some students turn to see what had happened.

chris groaned in pain as he turned to the side clutching his stomach. his face scrunched up as he felt his stomach sting with pain. “..ow..” was all chris was able to make out. the small noise made the voice above him let out a small chuckle. as chris rolled to the side on his body he looked up with teary eyes being met with none other but his biggest bully.

“sturniolo.. when you gonna learn to stay out of my way?” the rough voice shrieked. laughter erupted as the group formed a circle around the town of them. chris’s eyes shifted as he tried to find you in the crowd. he watched as your face fell with sadness. he hopes you’d step in, be the better person.

he watched as you turned your head keeping your focus on anything but him. chris could feel as more tears filled his vision. the absence of your eyes made him feel as a knife was plunged into his heart. he wasn’t sure if he was being dramatic, he didn’t really care.

“and i promise you’ll never have to hurt again. it’s me and you chris..”

your words spun around swarming his mind. he was so hurt, you lied to him. you made him feel protected. but here you were avoiding the sight of his public beating. he could feel as his stomach tighten , his air felt like it was being cut from him.

he felt as the hot tears ran down his face unable to stop them. he didn’t care who saw. he was hurt, beyond hurt. he trusted you, and you betrayed him. he let himself get blinded by the love you showed him, how you made him feel good. just as quick as it came it was ripped away from him.

“aw look at the freak crying..” he heard above. he hesitated as he tuned his head meeting the gaze of all the laughing students. he felt humiliated and embarrassed. he couldn’t help but quickly grab all his items before making a quick run towards the exit.

he ran fast and didn’t stop, allowing his feet to carry him through the town. his breath was heavy panting as his chest burned with sorrow. slowing his movements he placed his hands on his hips trying to gain his composure. feeling the tears well in his eyes once more his mind replayed the scene again and again.

he couldn’t hold back the sobs that spilled from his mouth. he cried hard as spit dribbled down his chin onto his shirt. he began choking on his own cries as he felt his body fall. he wasn’t being dramatic, he was broken. it was hard for him everyday.

he just knew one thing. he never wanted to hear from you again.

special au tags - @maliaforstvrns @whore4mattsturniolo @thecrawlys @mattslolita @eeyoresturnz @emely9274 @cass-sturn @sturnsfavxo @st4rsturns @delilahsturniolo @oopsiedaisydeer @ikyoudreamofme @exactlygloriouscycle

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yeorisanaxox · 2 days ago

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. ₊˚ෆ xoxo, sincerely yours ♡₊˚ \\ Jung Wooyoung : Valentine's Special SMAU

11.0 the moment we all waited for

At the same time you clicked your phone off, wooyoung reached over to unbuckle your seatbelt before throwing his door open and slamming it shut, rattling the entirety of the car. Your heart leaped in your throat as you swallowed nervously as you watched him through the dash walk over to your side and open your door, and hold his hand out for you to take.

Staring at it like it was something foreign object as it awaited for you to. You eventually do while also feeling confused as hell by his brief change in mood. His hand remained soft as you always remembered it to be as he helped you out of his car and closed the door behind you.

He didn’t let go after that either.

Not even after you climbed the flight of stairs to your dorm and surely not after you unlocked the door with your key to go inside.

He pulled you along with him as if this was his home, and you can almost say that it was since he spent many days here after classes and was here to help you unpack move-in day back in freshman year. He was more here than he was his own dorm so it made sense that he moved around so freely.

As he brings you to your room where your makeup still sprawled all over the vanity and curlers left on the floor. A bad habit of yours whenever you were done with them, you left them on the ground to cool off on the carpet and often tripped over them after coming in from classes.

Wooyoung sits you down on your bed by your shoulders and shortly follows by sinking down in front of you, taking one of your ankles in his hands and reaches to undo the complicated knots of the string-laced heels you were wearing, pulling them apart in a rather roughly manner yet while his touch against your skin remained gentle.

Up til this point he still hasn’t said a word. Nor has he looked you in the eye. Making you begin to worry if he was actually angry at you for ghosting him.

Wooyoung has always been such an open book. When it came to his thoughts and emotions, he’s never been leery in expressing them because he believed it was better to not hold them back. Even in the times where he didn’t say anything, you liked to think that you were one in the same. Both always knew what the other was thinking and were able to gauge the other’s feelings by just observing.

But in this instance you couldn’t read him.

His gentleness in how he handled you said one thing while the aggressiveness in him when he finally got your shoes off and tossed them aside like they were a nuisance said another. You watched him as he rose back to his feet and walked behind him to your vanity, where he ripped the drawer open and fondled around until he found what he was looking for.

Your hairbrush.

Not even bothering to close the drawer back, he walks to you again, specifically behind, and you feel your hair being taken off your back and the bristles of the brush begin to glide through your hair. Noting how he was being extra careful on the parts that had tangles.

You couldn’t do it anymore. The silence, that you normally wouldn’t mind if the tension wasn’t there, making your palms all sweaty and squirm in your seat. The battle of uncertainty plaguing your mind with if he did’s and if he doesn’ts.

“I’m sorry wooyoung!” You blurted out.

At the same time his movement with the brush halted and another brief silence followed before you felt him pet the back of your head with his hand.

“For what? You didn't do anything wrong.” The confusion in his voice being equally the same as the furrow between your brows as you turned around to face him.

His eyes were already on you and a frown drawn on his lips.

“You’re not mad at me?”

Causing him to look at you as if you just asked him if aluminum foil could be put in the microwave. Putting all his weight on one foot and hand on his hip,

“Why would I be mad at you, y/n?” As he tilts his head.

You shrugged nonchalantly before responding, “Because you haven’t said anything to me since we left until now and the way you just abused the fuck out of my vanity drawer tells me you are.” Twiddling with your thumbs.

Unable to deny it, he sighs loudly instead and runs his fingers through his hair before sitting down next to you and places a hand on top of yours to draw your focus to him.

“I’m not mad at you, y/n.” He made sure to look you in the eyes, hoping that his sincerity could be seen. And it was, causing an ease to wash over you and silence your turbulent thoughts.

That being out of the way, he continues on, “I’m mad about what happened tonight but more so at myself.” His jaw tightens and a vein protrudes on the side of his neck as he swallowed thickly, letting out a rough breath.

“Seeing you in the same situation as back then and getting hurt by the same people–” he paused mid sentence withsomething flickering in his eyes. He looked away from you but you caught what looked like disappointment wash over his face as he hung his head.

“I wasn't there to protect you tonight after having promised myself years ago that I wouldn't let anyone hurt you like that ever again.”

That’s then when it hit you– like a tidal wave. All those days came rushing back of when he stayed glued to your side like he was meant to be there and held your hand extra tight whenever you walked up and down the hallways, glaring at anyone who dared to look in your direction.

He was the first one to volunteer to be your partner in any project so that you wouldn’t feel ostracized when no one picked you and was your shield during dodgeball games so no one could purposefully attack you.

Which made you think one thought deeper into your already scattered thoughts. Is that why he never had a girlfriend? Nor ever went on dates for that matter despite flirting with other girls and them showing clear interest in him, but always turned them down because he felt obligated after what happened that day… in protecting you?

You had thought with the incident being fresh, he just felt on edge about leaving you alone while at school. But never did you think nor wanted him to make it his life mission to be by your side.

And just like that, the small second you felt touched by your best friend for wanting to look out for you and making sure that you felt alone, was all swept away and interchanged with nothing but guilt as you came to the conclusion of what if this whole time you were the reason why he never got to experience the world of dating…

But that wasn’t the heartbreaking part. It was when he turned back to you and you saw how his eyes were glossed over. Making everything inside you feel like it was shattering into pieces at the sight of him being this close to tears.

For as long as you’ve known him, wooyoung has never cried in front of you. Nor rarely showed him being vulnerable as he’s always been the strong one in your relationship. The shoulder to cry when you needed it. So to see him like this was entirely new to your dismay and a different side of him that you definitely wasn’t prepared to witness.

But for his sake, you quickly blinked away your own tears that tried pricking your eyes and cooing at him silently. You scooted closer to him as inhumanly possible that not even a pen could be wedged between you and took his cheeks, and cupped them in your palms. Wooyoung's lips trembled as he tried mustarding up the best smile he could as your thumbs swiped under his eyes to wipe any tears before they could fall.

Reminding him of how he’s always done with you.

“I failed you, y/n.” The pain in his voice made the ache in your chest worse.

“How could you have possibly failed me when you didn’t even know that I was there.” You spoke to him in a soft and warmly manner in hopes to ease his conscience.

Not sure how effectively it was working but taking the way he leaned into your palm as his pearl eyes stared back into yours, sparkling slightly from the warm hued light of your lamp, you could only assume that it was.

“Why weren’t you?” His tone being in the exact same manner.

The question that you fumbled through your mind all night to find the answer to but still failed to come up with one. Other than– ‘oh nothing major. Just the same girl who made my life hell back in high school, turns out she did it because she had a crush on you too hahahahahahaha crazy right?’

That would’ve been easier to say in your opinion as that quite literally was the case but knowing that so much transpired in between those lines, you knew it would require a lot of explaining than just dropping that little bit on him.

You came to yourself after realizing that you drifted away in your thoughts and wooyoung was just sitting there with a puzzled expression like he was trying to get in on whatever was going on in your head. ‘Sorry,’ you muttered bashfully and pulled away from him to create a little gap between you.

“Y/n I need you to be honest with me because as of lately I’ve been feeling like no one is telling me the truth anymore or I’m only getting bits and pieces of the puzzle.” He starts by turning his body to face you, noticing his demeanor changed too.

You gulped nervously as knowing just what he was going to ask. Wooyoung may have been a lot of things but a fool was never one of them. It was only but for so long he’d allow someone to bush something under a rug before calling them out on it.

“What happened between you and giselle back in high school? Because it seems like everytime she comes around, you start acting weird.”

That’s where he chose to start and you’re somewhat thankful as it seemed to be the only thing you had a direct answer for.

“I was never sure for the longest time.” You started by letting out a huff. “All I know is one day we were friends and everything was all good and dandy, and then next thing I know we just stopped speaking.

I couldn’t figure out if it was something that I had done or if maybe she had something personal going on at home at the time and didn’t feel comfortable in talking to me– and then bam,” smacking your hands together theatrically, “showed up to school to find out everyone was calling me a homewrecker. She included.”

Now that you were saying it out loud, it made you think back to what yuqi had told you and how it was starting to make more sense now that Giselle and the rest of their friends made the rumor up because how else was she able to jump on the hate bandwagon so quickly when it had only just started circulating that day and not even making the effort to confer with you first to see if it was true.

The signs had always been in front of you.

“You said you weren’t sure before— meaning you are now?” He inquires and you nod in response.

“You remember that day in the courtyard when I was helping you pick up the light machine?“ He nods eagerly for you to go on.

“Well after I left because—”

“Of your supposed allergies.” He raises a brow but you didn’t miss the way his lip twitched to keep himself from smirking. You shoved him as you felt a warm blush spread over your neck.

“You and I both know you don’t have allergies. But I didn't want to call you out in front of Giselle.”

“Thanks for that.” Causing him to wave his hand around like it was nothing but motioned you to continue.

“Right— so when I had left, I came back to the dorm and out of nowhere yuqi showed up-” The reaction that came from him happened so quickly and was like what you had imagined seonghwa reacted when he found out wooyoung spent $500 worth of bubbly on his card.

He shot to his feet as a scowl took over his features, “Why was she here?! And she better not have laid a single finger on you!” He glowered while pointing a finger at you as to say ‘tell me the truth right now.’

“Of course not! Or did you forget who my roommate is?”

As bubbly and free spirited Belle was, when it came to her friends and boyfriend, she became the living definition of ‘give them hell.’ If it weren’t for yuqi running out, there was no doubt in your mind that belle wouldn’t have ripped her head off.

“And she was actually here about Giselle. In a nutshell, she told me—” you paused mid sentence, suddenly becoming afraid to say the next part.

After everything she put you through, you still couldn’t figure out why you held such regard for her feelings towards him. On one hand you thought it was maybe because you felt they were still valid as much as you didn’t want to care or if it was because you were worried what this would mean for their friendship moving forward.

To let it be ruined over something as stupid as a rumor that happened years ago, you didn’t want to be the one responsible for that.

Especially when you had already let it go.

“Earth to y/n,” he snapped his fingers in face to bring you back from your thoughts. “What did she say?”

Looking up at him, you saw how his eyes were pleading, desperate to get the truth. But what if it hurt him?

“Wooyoung, you have to promise me something first,” you reached out for his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze, “I won’t tell you how to feel but promise me that when I tell you, you will come to your own conclusion and not make a rash decision over something that happened years ago.”

“What did she say?” He enunciated each word slowly, sending a chill down your spine.

Taking a deep breath, “she told me that the rumor was fake, that her, Giselle, and their other friends made it all up because they wanted to make me look bad in front of you.”

You watched as his face contorted with confusion, “In front of me—why?”

“Giselle had a crush on you, Wooyoung. And to my understanding, still does. Back then she thought I knew about it when I didn’t and accused me of it to her friends. So I guess what they were trying to accomplish that by telling everyone I was a homewrecker, that you would be disgusted by me and stop being my friend.”

As you finished, you felt as his hands slipped from yours, causing butterflies to then erupted in your stomach, and not the good kind. He was quiet for a while, while staring off at something behind you before finally coming through,

“You mean to tell me the reason you got bullied back then was because she liked me?...”

He lets out a laugh of disbelief before doubling over on himself like you had just told him the funniest thing. That was far from the reaction you were expecting him to have as you stared at him like he was some mad man, watching his movements as he stood back to his full height, wiping a tear from his eye.

And that’s then when you saw it.

Something darker, nearly turning his already dark eyes to pure black– he was heated.

“Wanna know something funny? San actually told me the same thing a few days ago. And honestly I didn’t want to believe it at first. Not because I thought he would ever lie to me but because I was finding it hard to believe that someone who was supposed to be your best friend would do something like that to you.

And the fucking cherry on top being because she liked me.” He scoffed another laugh and turned away to walk towards the door.

Something in you panicked, causing you to leap up to stop him from taking another step. Hand on his forearm, “wooyoung wait—”

In a blink of an eye, wooyoung did some kind of move that abled him to slip himself easily from your grasp and instead maneuvered you around him so that your back was now pressed against your room door as he towered over you and leaned in closer.

“What did you mean by not making a rash decision?” His breath fanned against your cheek, sending yet another chill down your spine.

“I just meant that I didn’t want you to think that by me telling you, that I was trying to turn you against her and to not be rash in letting this ruin anything between you.”

A frown then settles on his lips, making you feel bad for being the one who caused it.

“How can you make me promise something like that? Do you have any idea how it feel that day to watch you get ganged up— how it fucking tore me apart to see you cry like that.” His hand raises to your cheek and gently swipes over it with his thumb as if the tears from back then were still there.

“I will never forgive something so disgusting and so inhuman.” He grits through his teeth and raises his other hand to join your other cheek.

“You didn’t deserve that.” He murmurs before leaning and rests his forehead against yours.

This felt nice despite the vulnerability surrounding it. His warmth wrapped around you, feeling like a giant hug, causing you to hum with content.

Standing like this with him made you forget about everything; from the party and the events that led up to it. His presence always had that effect on you and you couldn’t be more thankful for how he’s been there for you throughout the years.

Feeling him then as he pulled back just a tad, you watched as his eyes flickered down to your lips, causing your heart to race behind your chest as he slowed began to lean in.

Hearing the girls' voices in the back of your head from all the conversations you had about this moment, you knew you couldn’t let him do this as bad as you wanted to kiss him too. Not before finding out what you meant to him first.

Your hand reached towards his chest, stopping him from leaning in any closer. The look on his face was a mixture of embarrassment and sadness flashing in his eyes. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.’ He murmurs and pulls away from you entirely, taking him warmth with him.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to, wooyoung. I just think it’s best we talk about us first and not act upon this out of impulse because we’re in a sensitive moment.” You stated truthfully while tilting your head to meet his eyes again.

Wooyoung stares at you for a while before he once again steps closer to you, taking your hands in his and raising them just below his chin.

“The only thing that you need to know in this moment is that I have been crazy about you since that first day I sat next to you in 7th grade.

The way your eyes shined with so much purity when you lent me that sparkly pink pencil and it made my heart swell when you let me keep it though it was your last one.

How safe you made me feel when I was getting bullied at the time and all you had to do was simply hold my hand to calm my fears. To this day I still find it so cute and how it was so brave of you to get all mouthy with the bullies despite knowing how scared shitless you were.

How it still feels like cartwheels in my stomach whenever you give me the best advice known to mankind and then follow it with telling me you love. Whether you mean it romantically or not, it still manages to make me blush like an idiot.

And seeing you get hurt for the first time awakened something in me so passionately that I was ready to throw my life on the line and fight to protect the very thing that was becoming more and more precious to me by the day.

And if you’re still having a hard time processing what any of this means to me, I’ll put it into simpler terms by saying I love you. I always have and I always will.”

By the time he finishes, you were in full blown tears. Hot as they burned your eyes, you bit your lip to stop them from trembling but to no avail. You were beyond touched, hearing the same man who you shared the exact same feelings for, say that he loved you too.

Desperately you wanted to let him know of all the ways that made you love him too. How you felt those exact same “cartwheels” when he called you things like pretty girl. How your heart too nearly burst with bliss when he treated you like you were the only girl in his world. And that’s when you realized that you had him all wrong.

He never had a girlfriend not because he wasn’t capable but because his heart had already belonged to you before you even knew it. And unknown to him, he had yours long ago too.

You can only let out a choked laugh and think how funny it was the way the universe worked everything out and destined you to be together from the very start.

“I love you too Wooyoung.” Was all you could say before you leaned up on your toes to finally kiss him.

He responded almost like it was second nature. Pillowy lips molding perfectly with yours that it sent sparks flying everywhere within your being. Kissing him was far from what you could ever imagine. The way he held you by the hips and pulled you flushed against his body as he titled his head to deepen the kiss felt so entrancing that you couldn’t get enough.

You moaned while wrapping your own arms around his shoulders, hoping that he could interpret through your actions how long you waited for this. Never having a boyfriend yourself because you chose him. And if you could go back in time, you do so again without hesitation.

And just like that, your stupid mind had to go ruining this moment for you, feeling an uncomfortable churn in your stomach as you pulled back abruptly.

“What’s wrong?”

You took a moment before finally saying, “Giselle.”

Wooyoung scoffed and leaned back in to start kissing the corner of your mouth, going down to your jaw.

“How can you even think about her when I finally have you like this?” He murmurs against your skin, making you roll your eyes playfully.

He’s right though. You shouldn’t be thinking about her and rather enjoying this moment but you still were.

“She still has feelings for you too Wooyoung. I think it’s only fair that before we move forward that you give her some kind of closure.”

He sucks in a breath and withdraws himself from your neck to look between your eyes for any signs of wavering. But there weren’t any.

“Is that really what you want?” He asks to be clear and you nod to show him that you were sure.

“Besides,” sultry suddenly crept in your tone as your fingers began to play with his long locs, “if you’re gonna be my man, can’t have her thinking she still has a chance with you.”

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckles richly and leaned back in to press his lips on yours.

masterlist || <previous - next>

pairing jung wooyoung x fem reader Genre smau! f2lvrs w crack, drama, slow burning??? mid cursing

Synopsis "Finally confessing your feelings the guy you've had a crush on since middle school. Only one problem... your ex best friend has a crush on him too. In the end, who gets the guy??"

taglist 🏷️

@istansquirrels @miniature-tragedy @domfikeluva @marvolos @santineez @ateezswonderland @zzenkha @bellybellasblog

written by yeorisanaxox. No reposting or translations. Leave a like and reblog w [feedback is much appreciated] ✨

#yeorisanaxox #ateez smau #atz smau #ateez social media au #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung imagines #wooyoung imagines #jung wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez drabbles #ateez scenarios

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jimblejamblewritings · 2 days ago

Text

Pet Soldier | 1

Summary: Bucky's past catches up to him, unlocking painful memories of his time as the winter soldier. The only thing that could make it worse was having to be on a team with a captured HYDRA soldier he wants to see dead. But her healing power is simply too invaluable to let go.

THIS IS A DARK FIC!

Warnings for the Series: 18+ only. Heavy Angst (eventual hurt comfort). Violence. Mentions and depictions of Non-Con and Dub-Con. Psychological Trauma. Not Canon Compliant. Manipulation. Hydra.

Important Warnings for this Part: Non-Con.

Pairing: eventual Stucky x reader, Stucky x hydra!reader

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: the title is pending. I had a strong desire to write for Marvel and specifically Bucky again. Idek dude. But enjoy!

A/N 2: I don't really know if anything about reader's race will be brought up but I like to always note that at the beginning because black readers deserve stories too so if hair or culture does start to get brought up, it doesn't just come out of nowhere.

(Series Masterlist coming soon)

Despite all the fronts he put up, deep down Bucky is grateful. Grateful that Steve doesn’t ever give up on him, that Sam took a leap of faith to help save him, that Tony had a change of heart, that the UN agreed to work with SHIELD instead of forcing SHIELD under them, and for a host of other things that would take him too long to name. He is grateful for his freedom back, a chance at normalcy.

Of course, it isn’t without conditions. He has to be an Avenger. He had to go through deprogramming in Wakanda to at least eliminate his triggers — the Winter Soldier still makes spontaneous appearances albeit less deadly and usually from nightmares. And he has to help them with cases on HYDRA to the best of his abilities. Bucky considers those conditions to be easy. At least until the morning the team find themselves on the quinjet and heading back to Siberia.

Zemo’s Sokovian cover story had been almost airtight but he slipped up eventually. He knew too much about HYDRA operations. It became hard for anyone to believe he acquired all the knowledge through research alone. Not that it mattered, whether he was HYDRA or not he had to be found. Only, now Bucky was added to the team in charge of finding their man just in case he was a part of that damned organization.

“You good?” A voice shakes Bucky from his thoughts.

Sam sits down next to him, having finally been released from pilot duty while Clint takes over. The man next to him nods stiffly. It had been a long time since Bucky was in Siberia. The last of his Winter Soldier years had found him at the base in D.C. while he was used to take out SHIELD. He had occasionally flown back to Siberia every now and then. It was technically his home while at HYDRA. But still, it had been months.

“The last time I was here… They said they were bringing something to D.C. for me.”

“You’re worried it’s still at this facility?”

“I’m worried whatever it is might kill us or what use Zemo might have made of it.”

The entire quinjet falls silent at his confession. It had already been decided that with the information he gave them about other winter soldiers, Bucky would be leading the mission. He knows the base, tries to prepare them all.

But steeling their nerves to fight unstable super soldiers is one thing. Trying to anticipate all the random death traps in a hopefully relatively abandoned facility — including something specifically for Bucky — is another thing entirely.

With precision, the team seamlessly moves through the base. Steve is the first to pause when he sees it. The chambers holding the other winter soldiers are full like Bucky said. But each and every one of them simply stays in place despite the open doors of their cryo units. They watch the Avengers’ every movement. Only their eyes ever move. On the back wall of the room sits Zemo in a safe bunker.

“If it’s any consolation, they will die quickly after this. A single bullet each. Self-inflicted. They’ve already been commanded to do so,” Zemo mutters.

“Why are you doing this?” Steve’s questioning is firm.

Part of him wants to know, the other part is just buying time for the others to assess how to get Zemo out of the containment unit. SHIELD wants the man alive. The Avengers feel obligated to try and deliver.

“Because I never cared for the enhanced. Reckless, unstable, none of them righteous. No one should have ever continued after Captain Rogers. I thought the lot of them were corrupt. Although, I have found one who I may have a different opinion of yet. Soldiers, attack.”

Despite the fact that he was no longer triggered by the words, a darkness flashed over Bucky as he watched the chamber closest to Zemo finally open. It had been the first thing he noticed when they originally entered the room. How the chamber door was closed despite all the other ones being open. He braced himself for whatever beast was going to come through.

The team hadn’t seen Barnes in a rampage like this since his deprogramming. Even a nightmare fueled Winter Soldier was not as bad as what they witnessed right now. He didn’t hold back any punches, only using his metal arm. Despite the plethora of weapons on his body, Bucky didn’t use a single one. It was like he wanted the soldier underneath him to feel every ounce of anger in his fight. Like he wanted her to suffer.

Bucky didn’t register the shouts of his name. The only sound to reach his ears was the sick crunch of your nose under his fist. It took Steve, Tony, and Thor to pull him off of you. Bucky only relented after realizing all the other winter soldiers were dead. You were the only one that could be convinced to surrender and there was a use to you being alive. They could finally have another source on HYDRA besides just him.

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There were no bars around your cell. That was the first thing you noticed about your new prison. Avengers Tower, you were sure one of the people said as they threw you into this so called interrogation room. You had immediately noted that there were no bars anywhere around your cell. Simply glass that you suspected was a two-way mirror around the whole perimeter of the room.

On the other side of the glass, Bucky just glared at your seated form. They were interrogating Zemo in the other room and he didn’t care one bit. You were here. Reluctantly, Bucky pulled himself away from watching your figure when Everett Ross called his name.

The last thing he wanted to do was sit through a meeting where he had to explain that he was fully in control of his actions as James Barnes and not the winter soldier in Siberia. Unfortunately, Bucky didn’t get his way. He was given all of one minute to settle himself before they started demanding answers.

“Y/N L/N. She’s not a winter soldier,” Bucky stated numbly.

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Barnes, are you telling me that you as you and not that freaky soldier thing harmed a civilian?

“She was my primary handler.”

Everyone’s mouths dropped open in shock. The only thing Bucky could muster was a dry laugh.

“You picked the right one to save. She was there for all of it. Almost every torturous minute I spent in their clutches was thanks to her. If anyone knows anything about all of HYDRA’s sick plans then it would be her. Karpov’s right hand. Pierce’s left. The worst handler I’ve ever had.”

“Was she there since you were taken?”

For once, Natasha was hesitant to ask about his past. Bucky had gotten used to the jokes. He actually sort of liked them. It made him feel like a normal member of the team. But from the way he almost killed you earlier and this sudden confession, it left Nat concerned for her friend.

Bucky shook his head. “Around the seventies, I think. Maybe a bit earlier or later. I don’t quite remember but she wasn’t there in the beginning.”

“She looks a bit young then.”

“She insisted on going into cryo every time I was put back under.”

Ross’ eyes nearly bulged out his head. “I’m sorry, she willingly went into cryo? Barnes, if you don’t want to be here anymore then you don’t have to. But L/N might be the most valuable prisoner we’ve gotten from these missions. We can’t let you kill her yet and we can’t risk her escape without us at least having a chance to get her back. She’s staying at the tower for now. Just until her and Zemo are of no use anymore.”

“As long as I’m not one of her guard dogs.”

“Never,” Steve answered without hesitation.

As if it pained him, Bucky stood from the table and walked back to the residents’ area of the tower. He’d watch your interrogation another day. But right now, he needed a lot of space. He didn’t want to even hear about what you discussed, telling the team such when he only asked about Zemo. It was a boundary they tried to respect. Unfortunately, the line had to be crossed a few weeks later. Fury stood in front of the Avengers trying to enjoy their breakfast.

“She refuses to talk. Zemo is willing to provide the location of HYDRA documents stored at the Siberian base and we have agents going there now. But he will only let them know if Bucky agrees to view the evidence with everyone else. It’s a fairly obvious ploy to ruin your recovery process but, for once, we don’t have the upper hand. He knows that and he knows he doesn’t have to be subtle.”

“Fine,” Bucky said with a sharp voice.

“I have to say, he already gave us one very important document as a sign of trust so to speak.”

“And?” Steve asked.

“The room she stayed in was a nice one for the higher ups. Dr. Myers believes it would be best to either gain her trust or make her think she has the upper hand.”

Everyone noticed how Bucky tensed up at the mention of his therapist’s name. You couldn’t give him anything sacred to just himself. You had to take everything from him. Dr. Myers had been the best therapist he’s gotten so far. The first to truly help Bucky find coping methods that were healthy but also effective for him. He tried to take deep, slow breaths.

“What does that entail?”

“That she be allowed in the residence area. I’ve already agreed.”

“Nick!” the entire team screamed at once.

“We need whatever information she can give. We’re talking a potential end to HYDRA. I’ll put her far away from Barnes if needed. Almost everything can be restricted from her at first. She’ll have an ankle monitor or whatever tracking device you want on her. Hell, you can even give her a schedule so she never crosses Bucky’s path. But we need this inform—”

“I want her room between Sam and ours.” Bucky looked over at his boyfriend, watching for a change in Steve’s face. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Forget what I want. Are you okay to have her that close, Buck?”

He nodded. “I’d feel better if I’m aware of her at every moment if she’s going to be up here.”

“Thank you, Barnes,” Nick said with a nod. “Seriously.”

“Just get what you need from her and then get her as far from my home as possible.”

“It won’t be a few simple days.”

“I’ve spent decades with that monster. As long as this takes less than that, I don’t care. Get what you need and then I want her to pay for what she’s done to me.”

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You stared down as Tony fitted an ankle monitor on you. Everyone decided that now was the best time to let you move into the resident area. They’d be reviewing the Zemo documents retrieved by intel while you had a chance to get used to your new space. While the team understood it needed to be done, they weren’t happy about the changes to their space.

Anything dangerous had locks that could only be opened through fingerprints or FRIDAY’s voice commands so you couldn’t have access. They now had to wait for the elevator’s facial recognition to light up all the buttons for them because you only had access to about four floors in total at the moment. And cameras were everywhere that you were allowed to be. Small inconveniences for the information they were about to uncover but annoyances nonetheless.

You listened intently as Tony explained the new rules to you. He expected a sneer or rude response but you still said nothing. You simply left your cell and finally tested the elevator. The first button you pressed took you straight to the living room. The place was nice. Although, with a billionaire footing the bill, you expected such. The kitchen was nice and big. Better than any of your previous apartments at HYDRA.

You’d enjoy cooking there, already making plans for a nice dinner. You didn’t even care that you could only open about half the drawers. You were basically told that you could get food whenever you wanted, sleep for as long or as little as you wanted, and take all the hot showers in the world. The least amount of work you’ve ever had to do in your life and the only caveats were strangers for roommates and eventually having to drip feed information. A trade you could reason with for now.

In one of the meeting rooms downstairs, the Avengers and important players in SHIELD passed out cups of coffee while FRIDAY sorted through the videos they recovered thanks to Zemo. The AI was attempting to put them in chronological order and focus on just you and Bucky’s moments. They expected it to be a long day and a meeting that might have to take place over several.

Zemo, handcuffed to the table, thanked Sharon for the cup of tea. Her face of disgust didn’t deter him one bit. Not when he was about to revel in the potential destruction of the winter soldier. He had seen every soldier’s tapes. He knew all of their handlers, their weaknesses, their documented missions. And Zemo knew that your interactions were some of the worst in his opinion. HYDRA had a talent for cruelty, he’d give them that.

Steve looked over at his boyfriend, grabbing Bucky’s metal hand after he clenched and unclenched it for the fifth time in a row. Everyone knew that the nightmares were only a fragment of his memory and for the most part he had blocked everything else out. It wasn’t exactly as comforting as Bucky thought to get those bits of him back.

“Whenever you’re ready, Buck.”

“Just play the damn tapes. You’ll probably need subtitles. There was always a lot of Russian, French, and German.”

“I will provide whatever subtitles may be needed, Sergeant,” FRIDAY responded before starting the first bit of footage:

Bucky was pushed back into the mind wiping machine. You sat in a very nice chair, just off to the side so the scientists could do their work. It was frightening how unmoved you were by his screams. You simply continued to read out loud, asking every now and then if Bucky knew who he was.

“Bucky Barnes,” he gritted out.

Your eyes casted downward as you flipped the page. You began reading again while the machine went for a fifth time. Sweat clung to Bucky’s skin as the machine slowly quieted down. You grabbed the bookmark from your lap and tucked it into the book, closing it before looking the man across from you in the eye.

“Who are you?”

“Sergeant Barnes.”

Karpov’s hand appeared on your shoulder. “That’s good enough for now. You may take him.”

Various bits of cctv footage popped up on the screen, showing you leading Bucky through all the hallways of the facility. He stiffly walked behind you. You walked with determination to the garage. Without a second thought, you slipped into the passenger seat of a car that looked like it came from the 40s. Bucky closed your door before getting into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t a long drive. And the cctv never stopped, not even when they reached your apartment.

“When you comply, you can stay with me, Sergeant.” You unlocked the door to a very nice apartment. “This is much nicer than your cell, isn’t it?”

Wanda swallowed uncomfortably as you took off the soldier’s boots and directed him to the dining room. “Was she always this nice?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “It was the game she liked to play. If I complied then she was kind. Even a simple mistake would earn her other side.”

“For once, I’ll make dinner,” you told him. “But you know I hate cooking, Sergeant. You’re lucky the day has been hard on you. Otherwise, we’d both be eating sandwiches.”

Dinner was a quiet affair. Without needing to be told, Bucky did the dishes while you enjoyed your evening in front of the television. It was a practiced routine, something expected of him.

✭✭

You scowled as you leaned against the guard rails of your apartment balcony. It was a different apartment than the last videos, on a lower floor but with a bigger porch. The heavy rain soaked through the dress you wore.

“It’s getting rusty.”

Bucky looked down at his metal arm.

“If I have to replace it, you will get another punishment.”

Bucky ran a finger over the plates and you just sighed.

“Let’s go inside and I’ll work on you instead of Karpov.”

That seemed to wake the soldier up. Like the guard dog he was trained to be, he opened the door for you and waited patiently for you to come inside. You weren’t the one to work on him despite your promise. The moment you reached the HYDRA base, Bucky was taken by guards and beaten before being returned to his cryo chamber. You continued past his cell until you reached Karpov’s office.

“May I have a few days off?”

Karpov chuckled. “The Asset is giving you trouble? I heard you put him back in cryo.”

“I’m tired from all the healing. I cannot wield my powers effectively with constant use. If he is truly hurt and I am weak then I cannot heal him. He can’t keep coming to me for every cut or scrape without some time off.”

“You’re right. We’ll grant you use of the chamber. You get a week. He is needed in Budapest in ten days.”

You nodded before returning to Bucky’s cell. A second cryo chamber sat next to his. The scientists gave you all the necessary pills and prep work needed before guiding you into the cryo chamber.

Fury sat up straighter. “She’s a mutant?”

“Best healer in HYDRA. I think that’s why she was assigned to me. If the serum took two days to patch me up, she could get it done in ten hours. I was more effective because of her, had more work and missions that I could go on.”

✭✭

Karpov stood in front of a board room, other HYDRA officials waiting eagerly for him to start.

“L/N is perfect for the Asset in all forms. He is more efficient. The rampages have severely diminished. He’s scared when he can’t see her or doesn’t know of her whereabouts. The constant waiting for the worst case scenario only to be brought to her with a book in hand resets his mind better than a mind wipe and a week in cryo. I believe under L/N’s hold, he will only need to be on ice as a matter of life extension.”

Smiles spread amongst the crowd.

✭✭

Bucky was allowed a hot shower. Although, with the vastness of the shower rooms, an occasional chill still swiped at his skin. But still, the shower was hot and he had the room to himself. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of heels clicking against the tile.

“If I want to admire you, soldier, I can,” you said as you leaned against one of the shower dividers.

The cctv cut back to the one focused intently on Bucky’s shower. He said nothing, going back to washing the shampoo out of his hair. He looked down when two hands wrapped around him, tracing up and down his abs.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Sarge.”

Your right hand drifted lower and lower with a gentle touch. Bucky stiffened up slightly when you wrapped your hand around his cock. He paid you no mind, continuing to stare at the shower wall. You began moving your hand up and down his length, face and body mostly concealed by his broad shoulders and back. Little grunts came from Bucky as you pumped him faster.

“Maybe they should send you on more of these hard missions so I can come see you. I didn’t know you were so well endowed. I shall make myself more acquainted with this endowment tonight. I think I’ll enjoy it.”

Bucky stood up abruptly, needing fresh air. Zemo be damned, he couldn’t relive it. Not memories like those. No one tried to stop him or Steve who followed him out.

“Are you alright?” Steve tentatively asked his boyfriend.

A soft grunt escaped his lips when Bucky didn’t say anything but merely crashed into his arms and silently begged for a hug. He and Steve stayed out in the hall until the first meeting ended. Pity wasn’t something Bucky handled well. Yet, every single person gave him a pitiful glance as they exited. Even Zemo couldn’t help but give him a look as he was escorted back to his cell.

You sat on the kitchen counter, legs crossed and sipping someone’s premade smoothie that you weren’t sure what the flavor was. But you were hungry and the potato soup you were making needed time on the stove to cook some more.

It was demeaning that you only had access to baby knives and your potatoes took way longer to cut than necessary but you were going to get that soup you wanted. In the meantime, the smoothie that read property of Bucky on the side of the cup would satisfy you.

The elevator dinged, alerting you of a new presence. One by one, the Avengers filed out, staring at the ankle monitor dangling on your ankle as you bobbed one leg up and down before meeting your eyes with a glare. All Natasha could see was red when you brought the straw back to your lips. They all could see the writing on the side of it. Yet, you still obnoxiously slurped up the drink that you’re sure had some raspberry in it.

Before she could be stopped, Natasha’s hand struck you clear across the face. The little bit of smoothie left hit the floor before you could grab it.

“Stay the fuck away from Barnes. Don’t you ever touch him again.”

You stopped focusing on her to stare at the one person you knew in the tower. Bucky’s glare was worse than whatever Nat or the rest of the team could muster up. The timer ringing shook you from your impromptu staring contest. Without a second thought, you pushed past Nat to fix the bowl of potato soup you were craving. The Avengers watched you prepare your food without a care in the world. Your back wasn’t even tense. It’s like they didn’t exist. You set the bowl on the kitchen island.

“If you’re going to hit me, please do it when I don’t have food in my hand. Those little baby knives add a lot of minutes to my prep time and I wouldn’t appreciate the effort being wasted. Otherwise, I will continue to steal what you’ve made like that smoothie.”

You nodded when Natasha actually did take you up on the offer, grimacing a bit as you felt some blood trickle down your face. Your nose wasn’t broken despite the sound it made when Bucky had hit it, but it was still fairly bruised and a single slap had it hurting again. Carefully, you wiped away the blood with the back of your hand before grabbing your soup.

“Sergeant Barnes, you have a new arm. The other one suited you better,” you said after lots of consideration. “They said I was on your floor. Lead the way.”

Steve pushed the other man behind him, getting dangerously close to your face as he did. “He isn’t your guard dog. You don’t make demands of him. I will be escorting you.”

“Carry on then.”

The rest of the team watched as you followed Steve. It was almost like you were unaware that you were a prisoner. You followed behind him in the same manner that they watched you lead Bucky through the halls of the HYDRA facility.

✭

[because of the nature of this being a dark fic and the fact that I haven't written for this fandom in so long, I won't automatically put my usual taglist. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in the future]

#mcu #marvel fic #marvel #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #stucky x you #stucky x y/n #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier angst #bucky barnes angst #dark fic #hydra!reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader

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moonlitcelestial · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter 17

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x OT8 Ateez

W/C 14,207

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

☽ Masterlist ☾

Inspiration Pictures

Pinterest Board Masterlist

Previous Chapter (Chapter 16)

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez, Atiny, or anything relating to what I do not know about being a videographer.

Contains she/her pronouns.

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

I strongly recommend looking at the inspiration pictures and the Pinterest boards (which will be updating as the story goes on).

General Warnings: slow burn, cussing, conflict, angst, fluff, and obliviousness.

CHAPTER WARNINGS - Cuteness, mentions of cooking knives

Author's Notes - Lots of links in this one (they are not necessary to read this but I wanted to add them for the ambiance). Also I couldn't help myself with some of the references. I highly recommend checking out the Inspiration Pictures to be able to see the layout clearly. Let me know what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist! <3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

The morning sunlight was filtering through the curtains. You took in your surroundings and smiled at the two you were cuddled up with. Looking around further you noticed Toothless lying stretched out on Seonghwa’s legs. You stretched yourself away from the two boys and peeked out the window above your head. The light of day was just barely shining over the trees in your backyard. You rolled and got out of bed not so gracefully and grabbed your glasses and phone. Determination set into your bones with a mission to cook your boyfriends a large breakfast. Slipping your slippers on you made your way out of the room and you smiled at the sleeping forms in the other bedrooms. They were dead to the world. Mocha had taken up residence in the bend of Yeosang’s legs. Beans was curled up on San’s chest and you chuckled at her, an attention whore at its finest.

After the short trip to the kitchen you grabbed several ingredients out of the fridge. You set the ingredients on the counter and grabbed your Beats to turn on some music. Generally you would have had it blasting on the speakers scattered throughout your house but the boys were sleeping and you knew they needed it. You shuffled your playlist that mostly consisted of Ateez, Xikers, some Stray Kids, and some other rock artists from the states. As the music flowed through your ears you turned on the coffee maker and brewed a full pot for everyone to partake if they wished. Remembering that some of the boys had been fairly gone last night you grabbed your spare bottle of pain meds and set it on the higher part of your island.

You knew it would be nice out today so you moved to open some of the windows. As soon as the giants heard the clicks of you unlocking the windows they all came running down the stairs, leaping across the pedestals along the wall to get to their favorite spots. You opened the window next to the island and you cracked open the window you could reach behind the large cat treehouse. Mocha and Beans were already on their favorite perches on the treehouse. Toothless was sitting in his hammock on the window in the kitchen taking in the fresh air. Moving back into the main portion of the kitchen you made your way toward the pantry where you grabbed the dry ingredients for waffles and pancakes as well as the waffle iron. Setting everything down you moved to the sink and washed your hands.

You moved with a fluid grace around the kitchen, which came with years of helping your mom. The boiled eggs were already done and resting and you had already made several pancakes and waffles for the boys. Now you move onto cutting up some fresh fruit between batches of the sweets. You were so into your music that you hadn't realized Yeosang came down the stairs. He appeared in front of you at the island and you almost cut yourself with the knife you startled so hard. You set the knife down and pushed the button on your headphones. Taking them away from your ears and setting them onto the island counter you smiled at him with a sheepish smile.

“Good morning Sangie, did you sleep okay?” You briefly looked up at him and returned to cutting your strawberries.

“Surprisingly well, although I have a mild headache.” You laughed lightly at his answer.

“Parties at my house tend to have that aftereffect. Thankfully for you I have a good hangover cure. There is some coffee over in the pot if you want some, if you want sugar it is right next to the coffee maker and creamer is in the fridge on the door. If you don't want coffee you are welcome to my tea collection above the coffee maker, if you choose tea all you have to do is push the button for the size you want and dunk the tea bag in. There are also some fruit drinks in the fridge, and pain meds set out on the counter. Make yourself at home.” You motioned to everything while you spoke.

You paused your cutting when the small alarm went off for you to take out the waffle. Making your way over you opened the small waffle maker and grabbed the chopsticks to take it out and set it on the plate. You stuck the plate into the smaller part of your oven so it would keep warm. The stack of pancakes was fairly tall already so you had momentarily stopped cooking them so you could focus on cutting the fruit. As you moved around the kitchen you watched Yeosang out of the corner of your eye. He was leaning against the counter closest to the coffee maker holding one of your mugs in both hands, a tea bag handing over the side. He looked so content just standing there watching.

Smiling at the small idea that just popped into your brain you approached Yeosang. His eyes widened at you comically as you put your hands over his and moved his hands to sit the cup on the countertop. You stood there smiling at him. He was looking over you curiously, his head tilted to the side and you could see the cute birthmark right next to his eye. His hands had dropped to his side as he froze while the gears were turning in his head. You took a step closer to him slowly and lifted your hands to cup his cheeks, you gently turned his head to the side so you could place a kiss to the birthmark. As you pulled away you looked at him. His eyes were practically bugging out of his head and he was trying so hard to suppress a small smile. His face was almost as red as his birthmark. He reached up to touch the spot you just kissed and then tried to hide from you.

“I have always wanted to do that, and now that you are one of my eight boyfriends I can do it all I want.” He peeked out from between his fingers to look at you. He dropped his hands to the side and moved just a little closer to you to see if he heard you right.

“What?” He blinked at you owlishly. You giggled at his response. He seemed like he was still completely processing the words that just came out of your mouth.

“One of my boyfriends doesn't seem to process very well in the morning, it's a good thing he is a pretty doberman.” The responding smile that lit up his face was blinding as he took in the words the second time. He grabbed you and pulled you to him. Your arms immediately went around his middle while your heart started beating just a little quicker. You let out a breathless giggle as he squeezed you, resting your head on his shoulder he squeezed you tighter almost enough that you couldn’t breath. You heard a set of steps coming down the stairs. No matter how much you wanted to look to see which one of your boyfriends it was Yeosang didn't release you.

“Good morning my moon and Sangie,” just from the one sentence you knew exactly who it was. His footsteps approached the two of you and you felt him plant a kiss on the back of your head. Yeosang seemed to have recovered from his bout of cuteness aggression and released you. You took a step back and turned to look at Seonghwa. His hair was a little messy, you reached up and fixed it gently. He smiled at you and pressed a quick peck to your lips. You let your face split into a grin as he stepped past you and gave Yeosang the same treatment.

“Hwa, there is some ice in the freezer and a special setting for iced coffee if you want some.” He smiled fully at you, you pointed above your head to the cupboard full of cups and mugs. He grabbed the Star Wars one and moved to the fridge for the ice. Once you helped him figure it out you herded the two of them to sit at the island while you prepared the breakfast.

The three of you chatted idly as you moved around the kitchen. You had finished cutting up the fruit and arranged it on one of the large wooden charcuterie boards you had. Once you were finished arranging the fruits you wrapped it up in cling wrap and stored it in the fridge. Throughout the process of setting it up you caught Seonghwa on more than one occasion snagging some of your cut strawberries. You left him some out and he immediately started snacking, feeding a couple to Yeosang as he went.

Once you were satisfied by the amount of both waffles and pancakes you started on the more savory side of things. You grabbed the bacon, steak, pork, and chicken out of the fridge. Seonghwa’s eyes got wide at the amount of food you just pulled out. Yeosang’s eyes got wide when you pulled out the chicken. You laughed at them as you started preparing everything, you sliced the steak first, threw it into one of your pans, and moved onto arranging the bacon to cook. This time the three of you turned to look to see who was coming down the stairs as soon as the first step creaked. Wooyoung came around the corner releasing a loud yawn. You waved to him with the chopsticks in your hands and started prodding the bacon around as it cooked. What you missed was his wide eyes at the smell of food and possibly because of you.

You gave him your coffee and tea spiel without even looking up at him to see his reaction. He made his way past you and evaded you as you took a step to the side to set down your chopsticks and toss around the steak. You heard him hum as the first sip of coffee slipped past his lips. A smile broke out onto your face as you looked at him. He returned your smile with a cute sleepy one.

“Do you need some help with anything, Noona?” He set his cup of coffee to the side and looked at you curiously.

“If you could grab one of the other packages of meat and cut it up for me that would be great, this batch is almost done and I have a lot of mouths to feed.” He slipped past you and made his way to the station you had previously set up.

“There should be clean cutting boards for each kind of meat in the cupboard below you.” He nodded and diligently started cutting the other various meats. When you turned around next he had all of it separated and waiting for you. A large grin split across your face as he looked at you with a small smile while leaning against the counter with his cup of coffee. You turned back and started plating the meats on the large platter you set out. The steak and bacon were looking great, you stepped back to open the larger portion of your oven. Wooyoung was already there and he opened it for you. You set the meat on the middle of the rack and turned to him with a smile.

Glancing over to the other two at the bar to see them leaning together and basking in a quiet moment, Yeosang had peered up at you through his lashes and raised his eyebrow at you. You winked at him. You kind of wanted to destroy the quiet moment, your inner Wooyoung tendencies were trying to shine through; courtesy of your close proximity to him. Turning back to Wooyoung who was looking at you already, you smirked and stepped closer. His smile widened but it stopped growing when he noticed how close you were. You quickly grabbed his face and placed a quick kiss on his lips. You stepped back and his eyes were so wide you worried they might fall out of his head. You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the huge smile that was attempting to worm its way onto your face.

“Yah?!” He paused looking between you and the other two at the island; he was trying very hard to process what just happened. The other two were looking at him like he was crazy after he startled them.

“Yah!!” He shouted again, his brain must have crashed and required a yelling restart. He looked back at you and pointed between him, the other two, then to himself again, and finally to you.

“Wait, aahh!! I'm going to get in so much trouble, Joongie said not to do anything until he talks to you!!” He ran a couple of steps away from you toward the nook and hid himself behind his hands as he crouched down. You snorted at his panicked reaction, he wasn't thinking the situation completely through. The other two were stifling their reactions and you could have sworn Yeosang was recording the entire thing.

“Shhhhh, our other boyfriends are sleeping.” You were trying to keep a straight face as you held your finger up to your lips. You felt your face twitch from the amount of effort you had to use to keep your face neutral. He peeked out from between his fingers and you knew that he had picked up that habit from Yeosang. “Surprise?” you shrugged finally letting the smile split across your face.

He immediately straightened and marched over to you getting close like you had earlier. He grabbed your face and quickly brought his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as you smiled into the burning kiss. His lips were slightly chapped and he tasted faintly of the coffee he was sipping earlier. You settled your hands on his waist and you gave him a light squeeze. He tilted his head and you could feel his smirk as his mouth worked against yours. He was entirely in control of the kiss as he tilted your head back just barely. You pulled him closer by the waist and you heard a noise of surprise. The both of you broke apart slightly panting and looked at the person who was standing behind Seonghwa and Yeosang. Of course leave it to San to walk into you and Wooyoung’s antics. His eyes were comically wide.

“I need coffee to even process this,” he muttered. You laughed and stepped away from Wooyoung to grab him a cute mug. You missed Wooyoung’s celebratory motion behind you, the only indication something happened was the twin snorts that came out of Yeosang and Seonghwa. Grabbing the pot of coffee you poured him a cup and set it down in front of him at the island. You grabbed the sugar tin and made your way over to get creamer. After you had secured the goods you returned to him and set them in front of him. He looked up at you with a small smile. You returned the gesture and stepped to the other side of the island to grab the remaining meat and another pan. If he needed time to wake up and process you would let him have it. Wooyoung walked over to stand beside you at the large stove.

“You are a minx, I cannot believe that you just did that to me.” You felt his arm snake around your waist and gently squeeze your hip.

“I took a page out of your menace book, I figured it was about time you got a taste of your own medicine.” He pinched your side and you let out a small yelp. He was lucky you were not holding a spatula or spoon otherwise he would have gotten smacked. Instead you opted for snapping your chopsticks at him. He grabbed the other pair you set aside for the pork and did the same. You turned to look at him with your head tilted, a silent challenge.

You stepped away from the stove and took up an almost fencing-like stance. You raised your other hand and waved at him to see if he would join you in a battle of the chopsticks. He mirrored your posture and you lunged at him snapping your chopsticks right close to his face. He evaded you by leaning back and he counterattacked by snapping his close to your sides. You let out a laugh and leapt back and taunted him to see if he would do it again. He tried again and you leapt around him narrowly avoiding the countertop. He turned toward you and before he could react you started a flurry of attacks alternating sides effectively backing him up to the edge of the kitchen close to the open window with Toothless. You booped his nose and turned on your heel to walk back over to the stove. A loud laugh erupted from somewhere near the stairs. Yunho was standing at the base of the stairs laughing at the two of you.

“How in the world do you two have this much energy?” He asked, stepping past the rest of the boys and into the kitchen toward the coffee pot. You shrugged at him and tossed around the chicken.

“Woo, you need to flip the pork otherwise it is going to burn.” He came over to your side and wrapped his arm around you as he did so. He skillfully tossed the pork with the pan and set it back down. You smiled at him and he kissed your cheek. Instead of reacting like you usually did, which was to playfully push him away, you just smiled at him.

Yunho looked to the three other boys to see if they saw what happened, each of them gave him some noncommittal answer or a shrug of their shoulders. They knew at this point you would be telling each of them in your own special way, even though San may have spoiled that for himself. The two of you were standing in front of the stove and listening to the other four chatter while keeping an eye on the meat. Wooyoung seemed to just be content with holding you close. Stepping back you moved to grab one of your oven mitts and grab the tray you had put into the main portion of the oven. Wooyoung had clocked your intention and immediately moved to open and close it for you. You drained the grease out into a small jar you had set aside and put the chicken onto the platter. Wooyoung had cut it up into the perfect strips. You rearranged them with your chopsticks to make sure you had enough room for the pork which was still cooking. Picking up a piece of chicken, you held your hand under it and approached Yeosang.

He looked at you with wide eyes and you opened your mouth to show him your intention. He hesitantly opened his mouth and you gave him the piece of chicken, he covered his mouth as he chewed. You heard him let out a hum of approval and you did a mental celebration that he likes your cooking. You turned around and went back to the platter carefully stepping around Wooyoung who was finishing up the pork. You grabbed a piece of steak and did the same thing with Seonghwa. He was smiling at you the entire time you approached. When you got close enough he opened his mouth for you and you gave him the bite of steak. He threw his head back and groaned, you were two for two at this point. You approached San with a piece of pork Wooyoung had just sat down and offered it to him. He still seemed like he wasn't quite awake yet. He gently took it from you and hummed with a nod. Next was Yunho, you grabbed a piece of chicken and offered it to him. He crouched down to your height and took it from your chopsticks. As he chewed his face split into a grin.

“You did wonderfully Y/n-nie, this tastes really good.” He said, covering his mouth.

“Thank you,” you paused considering the words you were about to say. “Also I'd prefer if you called me yours or your girlfriend,” You smiled up at him and watched as his face went from smiling to shock. Before you could blink he had picked you up and spun with you. You let out a loud giggle and snuggled your head against the crook of his neck. Once he was done celebrating he set you back down on your feet. His smile was contagious. You squeezed his arm and moved away from him to go back to the stove. You still had to make the eggs. You grabbed them off the counter and started cracking them into a bowl to make scrambled eggs. Once you had put at least fifteen in you grabbed the milk back out of the fridge and poured a little in the eggs. Seasoning it with salt and pepper and a couple of other things you started mixing it. Once you were satisfied that the mixture was thoroughly combined you poured it into a pan.

“Could one of you loves set the table outside pretty please? The silverware and chopsticks are in the drawer closest to the dishwasher and the plates are in the cabinet closest to the pantry, the cups are above the coffee maker.” You kept your eye on the mixture and heard a couple of chairs scrape against the wood floor. A couple of people gently maneuvered themselves around you and someone pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You looked down just slightly at the affection. This was something that was going to take some getting used to. The other three boys had made their way out of the kitchen. You waved San over to you so you could keep an eye on the eggs. He got up and slowly made his way over to you. When he got close enough you set down your chopsticks and grabbed his hand.

“Hi Sannie, I'm sorry if I have overwhelmed you. I know walking down the stairs to see one of your boyfriends kissing another person must have been a little weird.” You looked down a little in embarrassment, you really hoped that you didn't screw this up on your first official day of being with them. He squeezed your hand.

“Y/n-nie, can I be completely honest with you?” You nodded at him and squeezed his hand back.

He took a deep breath, “I was the first one to develop feelings for you. My first thought when I saw you walk into the waiting room of your studio was that you were gorgeous and magnificent, I couldn't believe you were real. After a little bit of getting to know you I expressed my growing feelings for you to the boys and was so worried that I would mess things up with them if I had feelings for you. When Joongie asked us a couple of days later about adding you to our relationship I was so excited. Coming down the stairs to see you kissing Wooyoung made my heart soar because I would finally get to do this without repercussions.” He gently grabbed your face and pressed his lips to yours. His kiss was the opposite of Wooyoung’s, he was gentle but sure. He moved his hands to your hips while you melted into the kiss. You let your eyes flutter shut while you brought your arms to rest on his broad shoulders. His hands slid around to the center of your back pulling you impossibly closer. You could taste the faint notes of coffee on his soft lips, he sighed through his nose as you moved your hands to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. He pulled away from you and rested his forehead on yours. He was grinning like he just won the lottery, his dimples on full display. Your eyes flicked over to the eggs and you grabbed the chopsticks and absentmindedly shuffled them around.

You heard Toothless meowing, moving to look around San, you saw him sitting at the back door looking pitifully at the three men that were sitting outside basking in the morning light. You tried to step away from San but he pulled you into a hug.

“I am so glad we have you Jagi,” (sweetie) He muttered against the skin of your neck. He placed a gentle kiss there before letting you go. You stepped toward Toothless and smiled as he meowed up at you. You opened the door and let him out, you may as well leave the door open at this point. He rushed outside and started rubbing on Seonghwa and Wooyoung. He was definitely going to love having the boys around more. You turned back to head to the kitchen and watched as San was taking care of the eggs. Approaching him you slid your hand around his tiny waist and bent to press a kiss to his bare shoulder; bless this man’s obsession with tank tops. He turned to look at you with a smile.

“They should be done, could you grab a pot holder and take it outside to our other boyfriends while I grab the rest of the things.” He nodded and grabbed the pot holder that was laying on the counter not too far from him. You made your way to the fridge and pulled out the fresh fruit tray. Unwrapping it you threw away the cling wrap and brought it out to your boys. The three who hadn't been awake when you were preparing it exclaimed at the artful way everything was displayed.

“There is plenty more where this came from. If you find that you want more of a particular fruit let me know and I'll grab it.” You went back into the kitchen and grabbed all of the toppings you could think of setting them on the counter. You grabbed everything and set it on another carrying tray. Bringing it out you smiled at the boys who almost snatched the whipped cream can from you before you even sat the tray down. You shook your heads at them and went back in to grab the pancakes and waffles, once you made it back you balanced both large plates that were stacked high with the sweets and made your way outside. The boys cheered for you as you set the plates down. You went back in for drinks and the large meat tray, you felt eyes on you and you turned to see Jongho standing there rubbing his eyes.

“Hi Aegiya (baby), breakfast is being served outside if you would like to go take a seat.” As soon as you spoke he looked at you with the large tray balanced in your hands and the several juice drink cartons under your arms. He wordlessly grabbed the large tray from you and walked outside to set it on the table. Smiling at him you readjusted your drinks, moved to grab the boiled eggs instead and made your way back out. You set all of the drinks and eggs down and placed your hands on Yeosang’s shoulders, he leaned himself into you as best he could with the back of the chair in the way. The only thing that was missing was two of your boyfriends.

“I am going to wake the other two up. You go ahead and start eating, if you need anything while I am gone you are welcome to snoop around until you find it.” You smiled at each of them and walked back into the house. Making your way toward the stairs you looked up and saw Mingi heading down. He smiled warmly at you as he made it to the last step.

“Good morning, breakfast is outside with the rest of the boys, go start eating. I will be back, I am going to wake Joongie up.” He nodded at you and placed a kiss on your hairline before walking away. He was such a giant sweet princess, and he didn't even know you were dating yet. You walked up the stairs and made your way to your room. There was a lump under the covers at the center of your bed, on top of said lump was Mocha. She must have lost interest in everything downstairs and retreated to the quiet of your room; Hongjoong being a heat source was just a bonus for her. You approached cautiously and crawled up onto the bed. The only thing you could see was Hongjoong’s face amidst the blankets. You gently shifted Mocha to get off him as you got closer.

You started placing gentle kisses all over his face, he let out a small groan and scooted away from your assault. You chuckled and started running your fingers through his hair to partially tame it. “Joongie, breakfast is ready for you downstairs.” He murmured and reached out blindly to you. You let him grab ahold of you and he tugged you down. You were now situated on your back as he crawled his way on top of you. You let out a laugh at him.

“Joongie, I made you breakfast.” He stirred a little more and nuzzled himself against your neck.

“Don't wanna move.”

“How about five minutes of cuddles and then we head down.” He nodded against you, you shook your head with a smile and started combing your fingers through his hair again. He hummed at the motion and you could feel his cute little smile against your neck. Looking over to the clock on your shelf you realized that it was already almost 11 a.m. You moved your hand from his hair to his shoulders and started rubbing the length of them. He whined at you and you stopped, you pushed your head back and looked at him curiously; his eyes were just barely opened. He grabbed the hand he could reach and put it on his head. You let out a giggle at how cute this man was when he was half asleep. You resumed your ministrations and placed your cheek on the crown of his head.

Not even a minute later Wooyoung came bounding into the room and jumped on your bed. “Yah! Joongie hyung stop hogging our girl.” He started to pull the covers away from Hongjoong; who almost growled at him. You kept your laughter at bay as Wooyoung kept trying to get him up off of you. You looked at Wooyoung who was smiling like a madman, you held up your hand to stop whatever he was about to do. He pouted at you and sat back on his haunches waiting for you to get Hongjoong up.

“Come on songbird, let's go eat.” His head perked up from where it was resting against you. His dark hair was scattered and his eyes were half closed. “I've got coffee and a large breakfast out there waiting for you if the other boys haven’t devoured it yet.” You ran your hand through his hair again attempting to smooth it out; it wasn't really working.

“It's the biggest and best spread of food I’ve seen in a while Hyung” Wooyoung chirped from beside the two of you.

He grumbled and sat up from his place. Wooyoung had almost immediately grabbed you and him and dragged you out of your room. You followed behind Wooyoung to the porch and you saw two full plates set aside for you and Hongjoong. You smiled as you separated yourself from the two of them and make your way back into the kitchen to prepare Hongjoong his coffee. You had to brew a little more so as you waited you started collecting the things to bring outside. You grabbed your little ice bucket and scooped some crushed ice into it before bringing it outside to set in the middle of the table. Once you heard the coffee pot stop brewing you grabbed it and also brought it out to the boys. As well as a music note coffee mug for Hongjoong.

As soon as you got back outside you stopped a second to take in the scene. The boys were all smiling and laughing with each other. Their plates were full of the various foods you made, but even though you told them to start eating they hadn’t; they waited for you. You felt a small smile creep onto your face. Mocha, Beans and Toothless were all making their rounds to see if they could trick one of the boys into giving them something; if they hadn’t already. You felt a peace settle over you.

You felt someone’s eyes on you and you looked around the table to see Mingi looking at you with his head tilted. You smiled wider at him and started to make your way around the table offering coffee refills. Once you were sure the boys were finally taken care of you sat between Hongjoong and the empty seat, which was quickly filled by Beans. You reached over and scratched her head before starting to eat. Once they noticed you took your first bite they started eating.

A couple minutes into eating you felt Hongjoong rest his hand on your knee, you looked over to see him engaged in a conversation with Jongho across the table. You brought your hand down and rested it over his, almost immediately he turned his hand over and intertwined his fingers with yours. You all ate in relative silence and when most of your food was gone you sat back and watched some of the boys grab for some more food.

“Y/n-nie,” you looked up and around Hongjoong and Seonghwa to San, “Can we go swimming later?” Each pair of eyes fell to yours, some of the boys were leaning toward you in anticipation of your answer.

“You are grown adults, you don't have to ask for permission Sannie.” you chuckled. “Although I might have a little bit of heart trouble seeing eight handsome men swimming or meandering about in my backyard.”

“Don’t worry Noona, I know CPR.” Your head moved over immediately to look at Wooyoung, his chest was puffed out in a proud manner; which earned him a smack from Mingi.

“Yah! Am I not allowed to flirt with our girlfriend?” He rubbed the back of his neck where Mingi smacked him and where Yunho was about to smack him for being a yapper. Both Mingi and Jongho’s gaze shot to you. Mingi burst out of his chair and scared the daylights out of San who was sitting next to him eating his strawberry and whipped cream covered waffle peacefully. Hongjoong squeezed your hand under the table as you looked at him; he was trying to hold back a smile.

“I should have told you last blabbermouth,” you muttered, sinking into your chair in embarrassment. You met Jongho’s intense gaze and you could see the small smile on his face. He didn’t keep eye contact with you for very long; opting to take a sip of his drink to break eye contact. You looked over to Mingi who was beaming at you.

“You accepted?” Mingi was still standing and now leaning on his hands which were situated on the end of the table.

“Does this answer your question?” You raised the hand that was intertwined with Hongjoong’s from under the table. If his smile could have gotten wider it would have. You could barely see his beautiful eyes because they were hidden by his cheeks. He burst up from his leaning position and marched his way over to you. Hongjoong let go of your hand as you were immediately brought out of your chair by Mingi. He grabbed your shoulders and brought you to him in a hug. You laughed and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“Hi Mingles,” you said between huffs of laughter. His hold on you tightened before he released you, his hands were still sitting on your shoulders. They moved up your neck to cradle your face. He was still beaming at you and you were sure you had the same look on your face. He pulled you closer to him and ducked down to place his plush lips on yours. As soon as he did you melted into his gentle hold, closing your eyes. You heard a few hoots from the boys behind you as you stepped closer to him leaving no space between the two of you. One of his hands traveled from your face to the back of your neck as he tilted your head back so he could stand at his full height. Your hands felt the heat from his back seeping into them, this was real. You felt something hit you square on the back of he head. Peeling yourself away from Mingi you turned around to look and see who did it. Your eyes met Wooyoung’s and immediately you knew.

“Jung Wooyoung!” You separated yourself from Mingi and flew around the table to get to where he was seated. His eyes got wide as he saw you coming and he leapt out of his chair knocking it over and taking off toward the french doors that separated the porch from your backyard. You sprinted after him, he was quick you knew that much from watching the clips of him. You were just as quick but you knew this place like the back of your hand so you knew all of the possible escape routes he could take. You chased him down the pathway lined with firefly lights out toward the pool. An absolutely mischievous idea came to mind. Just as he skidded to a stop in front of the curved part of the pool you shoved him into it. He waved his arms to try to steady himself but you had knocked him just hard enough that it wouldn’t work, he let out a strangled shriek before hitting the water.

Most of the boys had followed you out into the backyard and some of them fell over with how hard they were laughing. He came back up for air and glared at you; it was half hearted at best. You were grinning at him and he tried to grab your ankle to pull you into the water but you were just out of reach.

“Looks like one of us gets to swim a little earlier than the rest of us, hopefully the cat likes water.” You blew him a kiss, flipped your hair and walked back up to the rest of the boys. Yunho and Mingi both gave you a high five as you walked past. Yeosang was covering the bottom half of his face while he laughed. Jongho was grinning ear to ear as you passed him to go back onto the porch. Seonghwa and Hongjoong were both attempting and failing to contain their grins. San was just smiling proudly at you as he made his way over to help Wooyoung.

After grabbing a spare towel from one of the stashes you had out here and setting it into his chair you settled yourself back into your seat and started munching on a few strawberries. The boys filtered back in and you smirked at Wooyoung who was absolutely soaked. Just as everyone made their way back onto the porch, Toothless hopped into the chair next to you. You reached out and petted him scratching under his chin. ”Yous is the best black cat around, aren't you bud” San let out a laugh and you heard Woo huff.

After finishing up breakfast and cleaning up the table Seonghwa was sweet enough to help you clean up in the kitchen. He was rinsing off the dishes and handing them to you to put into the dishwasher; the perfect system. The boys had disappeared all over the house while you two just cleaned in a comfortable silence. He handed you another dish and you heard someone clear their throat. You both looked up to see San, Wooyoung, Mingi and Yunho shirtless in their swimsuits. Your eyes ran over each of their toned bodies, their beautiful honey colored skin was absolutely gorgeous, you felt your brain and heart lock up.

Fuck.

Heat rushed to your face and you almost dropped the plate you were holding. You immediately covered your face using the plate in your hands. Someone clicked their tongue at you.

“Remember what happened last time princess, don’t cover your face.” Yunho’s voice was a lot closer than you thought he was. You peeked over the plate to see him leaning over the island close to you. You squeaked and backed up a step from his intense gaze. When you stepped back you saw how red Seonghwa’s face was as well. You set the plate into the dishwasher and as soon as you straightened from closing it you saw the rest of your boyfriends appear around the corner from the stairs.

The heat that had rushed to your face started traveling down your neck and to your chest. You could physically feel how much of it was radiating off your body. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the beautiful sight in front of you. You opened your mouth to say something but you couldn’t even form a coherent thought let alone a sentence.

“We are going to go swim, you both are welcome to join us whenever you want,” Hongjoong was smiling like Cheshire the cat at the two of you standing behind the island. These damned assholes knew exactly what they were doing to the both of you. You nodded quickly and looked to Seonghwa, who wasn’t much better than you. He muttered some version of okay and the others seemed to be satisfied with the answers as they walked off through the back door.

“Holy fuck,” you whispered. You sank down to sit on the floor to ground yourself from the immediate clusterfuck that was your mind after that show. Seonghwa looked down at you and decided to join you.

“Those are our boyfriends, sometimes I still can’t even believe it and I have been with them for years.”

“I’ve not even been with you guys for a day and I still feel like I am daydreaming. Holy shit this is real.” He rested his head on yours.

“It’s real my moon.” Your responding smile sent shivers down his spine.

“Y’know, I really like that nickname.” you scooted closer to him.

“Really?” He grabbed your hand and started running his thumb over the back of it after he intertwined your fingers. You looked at your intertwined hands and smiled, the simple affection doing wonders for your poor heart.

“Yeah, for as long as I can remember I have always loved the moon. It holds a special place in my heart. I also really like it because it reminds me of my Granny.” He hummed letting you know he was still listening.

“She used to call me her moon amongst the stars, saying that no matter what phase we were in in our lives we would always be there for each other. It is also one of the several reasons I got the waves with the moon in the center.” You held out your left arm looking at it.

“I know I told you guys that it was for my love of the ocean but that was only partially true. It was because of her, we both loved the ocean, she would always tell me it was her first love before meeting her last; my Papa. She always snuck me away to the ocean when I was having a hard time. When I moved here I didn’t get to have that anymore so I got it tattooed. No matter where I am I get to carry a piece of her with me.”

“That’s beautiful. She sounds like a special lady.”

“She really was.” Both of your heads turned as soon as you heard yelling in the background. The boys were playing a match of chicken in the pool. You watched as Yeosang and Yunho took on Mingi and Hongjoong. Yeosang reached over to knock the captain off Mingi’s shoulders but Mingi got to Yunho first and knocked him off kilter which sent the both of them into the pool. Wooyoung’s laughter rang through the backyard and you snickered with him. You briefly caught sight of Wooyoung getting out of the pool to go down the slide.

“Want to go join our boys?” You looked at Seonghwa who was already looking at you with a cute smile. What you didn't know was he was watching you the entire time you were watching them, just appreciating you.

“Yeah, let's go.” He got up and offered you a hand to help. You followed him up the stairs and to your room where his go bag was.

“You can change in here or in the bathroom, I’m going to change in the closet.” He hummed as he dug through his bag. You stepped into the closet, closing the door. Making your way over to the drawers you opened it to grab your swimsuit. You held up the two options you had, and decided on the one that showed your moth tattoo. Slipping out of your sleepwear you pulled the bathing suit up and adjusted yourself so it fit properly, making sure to accentuate your curves just a little. It had a cutout just under your chest and it came up a little higher on your hip so the entirety of both of your hip tattoos were visible. You checked yourself out in the mirror and smiled, if they were going to be assholes about showing skin, so were you even if it made you a little self conscious. Setting down your glasses you grabbed your contacts and made quick work of getting them into your eyes.

You knocked on the door and heard Seonghwa tell you that you were clear. You stepped out of the closet and looked at him, his back was to you while he petted Mocha, you admired the view. He straightened back up and turned to you, his jaw immediately dropped and you felt a bashful smile creep up onto your face.

“You are absolutely stunning.” He walked up to you and put his hands on your hips. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled up at him fully. He leaned in pulling you closer by the hips and captured your lips. You leaned into the kiss closing your eyes and smiled once his hands started roaming around your back and up your spine. The heat of his hands sent a shiver throughout your body. Your hands made their way into his dark hair which you gave a light tug to before moving one to his cheek. You felt his sigh as he tilted his head to make the kiss just a little deeper. His hands pulled you closer by your lower back and you arched into his touch. The both of you were absorbed in the feeling of each other. He was the one strong enough to pull away when you heard general commotion from outside. You both looked at each other panting slightly, his ears were tinged red and you let out a small giggle at him. He rested his forehead against yours and took a couple of deep breaths.

“I could do that all day, but I don’t think the others would like me hogging you” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against yours. Your responding giggle made him smile even wider.

“I don’t think they would either,” you gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and made your way out of the room and to the linen closet right outside your door. You grabbed as many towels as you could before looking back at Seonghwa. He looked almost dazed, like he was deep in thought.

“You okay my star?” He turned to look at you, you could see the thoughts churning behind his eyes like storm clouds. You made your way back to him and set the towels on your bed. “What’s going on Hwa?” He hesitated and opened his mouth and closed it again. You patiently waited for him to win the battle in his head.

“I love you, I know it is really early, but I feel it in my heart and soul that you are meant to be with us.” he shuffled his feet on the plush rug he was standing on. His hands were wringing together in front of him. You grabbed his wrist and made him let go of his other hand. You pressed a kiss to the inside of his arm before pulling his arms over your shoulders into a hug.

“I love you too,” you whispered. He sagged in relief and rested on you. You both stood there for a minute before you felt something rub against your calf. The both of you separated and looked down to see Mocha.

“Hi sweet girl,” you crouched down and held out your hand to her. She rubbed her face on it and then rubbed on Seonghwa. He lightly laughed at the ticklish sensation before squatting down with you to pet her. You heard Wooyoung screech and then a large splash followed by the loud laughter of Mingi and Yunho. Both of you looked at each other and realized that you had completely forgotten they were outside in the pool. Standing up you walked to the bed for the mountain of towels. Seonghwa grabbed a few from you and you both made your way down the stairs and out to the backyard.

When you appeared you set down the towels on the small circular daybed and turned to look at the hooligans in the water. Hongjoong was wearing a beautiful smile that held a little bit of menace behind it. Wooyoung had a shit eating grin on his face, San who stood next to him was smiling a wide dimpled smile. Yunho and Mingi were both looking at you in shock. Jongho was slightly interested but he seemed more bashful than anything. Yeosang was trying to hide his full smile up at you from close to the edge of the pool, he was close enough that you could see the small amount of red on his face.

“My eyes are up here boys.” All of them straightened. You rolled your eyes at them and made your way to the edge of the pool. You sat down on the concrete and put your feet into the water, the first one to get to you was Yeosang. He was looking up at you with a sweet smile.

“Hi,” you tucked some of his hair back and let your hand linger on the birthmark close to his eye. He flushed a deeper red and just briefly looked away from you.

“Hi, want some help getting into the pool?” You couldn’t hold back the smile that wormed its way onto your face. What a sweetheart.

“Sure Sangie.” Before you even finished your word his hands grabbed your waist and he lifted you off the concrete and into the pool. The chill of the water sent a shiver up your spine and goosebumps broke out across your skin. You held onto his biceps and squeezed slightly before muttering for only him to hear “So strong” You looked up to his eyes and they were wide and his face was beet red. He brought his hands up and tried to cover his face.

“Nuh uh, if I can’t hide my face neither can you.” You pulled his wrists away and you knew he let you because there was no way he would have moved if he tried to stop you. His smile was bashful and he was trying to look down. Before anything else could happen you both felt a wave of water wash over you. You shrieked and peeked behind Yeosang and saw Mingi and Jongho grinning like fools. This was war. You launched yourself from your mostly protected position from behind Yeosang and attached yourself to Mingi and he let out a noise of surprise, his hands moving to your back to support you.

“Hi Mingles," you said sweetly, kissing his cheek before letting go and dropping to the floor of the pool. Before either of them could make a move you splashed the both of them as hard as you could and dived away. Thankfully it was a saltwater pool so you could open your eyes as you moved. You spotted Wooyoung and San standing there and decided it would be great fun to scare the shit out of San. You popped your head up above the water before diving again, you moved quickly through the pool and popped up out of the water right beside him whispering “Boo” His responding shout quickly turned into a whine as he realized who scared him. Wooyoung was laughing his ass off. The brief millisecond he looked behind you gave you the clue you needed to duck under the water. Yunho soared over you and almost into Wooyoung. You popped back up and smirked.

“Next time don’t let Wooyo give you away, you almost had me.” He turned around and pouted at you while Wooyoung launched himself at you. He must have had enough of your teasing today. He latched on you like a koala and bit your shoulder. You let out a noise of protest, smirked at him over your shoulder and jumped up, dunking the both of you into the water. In the haze he had let you go. You pushed away from him and to the two closest to the edge of the pool. Hongjoong and Seonghwa. You appeared behind Hongjoong and Seonghwa smirked at you. Before Hongjoong could react you jumped on his back.

“Hi Joongie, whatcha doin?” He looked over his shoulder at your beaming face, and then to the chaos behind you. He shook his head and smiled.

“Oh y'know, trying to keep all eight of my partners from being too crazy, same old same old.” You let out a laugh and bit him on the juncture between his shoulder and neck. He let out a loud noise that sounded similar to no before turning to glare at you over his shoulder. “You are just as bad as Woo,” he muttered while turning back to Seonghwa.

“I am so much worse, just you wait,” you said right next to his ear. His whole body shuddered and you felt goosebumps ripple across his skin. You laughed at him and let go of his back then moved around him and grabbed Seonghwa’s arm and put it over your shoulder. He looked down at you and smiled. You were just hoping that they wouldn’t attack you while you were with these two. Yeosang approached the three of you, you grinned at him. You didn't even have time to process anything before he grabbed you around the waist and stole you out from under Seonghwa’s arm. He threw you over his shoulder in one swift movement and dragged you to the middle of the pool.

“You traitor,” you yelled as he took you away. You looked at Hongjoong and Seonghwa as he carried you away; they were both laughing. As soon as he stopped moving he flung you over his shoulder and into the pool. You heard the laughter of everyone as you broke the surface of the water.

“I think you forget who you are messing with,” you threatened half heartedly as they all snickered at you. Wooyoung was the first one to move toward you but as soon as he got close enough you grabbed his arm and knocked his feet out from under him which dunked him into the water. Just as you knocked him under the water you felt another pair of hands grab you around the waist, this time though they brought themselves back and flung you over their head similar to a WWE slam. You held your breath and immediately kicked off and away from Mingi. You tried to race away but someone was quicker, looking back you saw Yeosang who had grabbed your ankle. With a quick tug you were back where you started.

“We just want to play a game with you noona, there's no need to get spicy.” Wooyoung sassed as he was shaking his hair out like a dog.

“Fuck off Woo, Mingi and Jongho started the war I am just finishing it.” You glared lightly at the two in question and they both were snickering at you. You felt a hand on the small of your back and you turned to look at Hongjoong. Maybe he would save you from these childish hooligans.

“Use nice words, our treasure.” You turned to look over your shoulder at him with a glare, you heard a small snicker from Seonghwa.

“Trying to parent me like these children, really Joongie? You forget I'm older than you. Therefore I have rank, captain.” You poked his chest and his face flushed at the thought, or maybe for other reasons, who the hell knows. You separated yourself from him just enough so you could knock him into the water. As soon as you did chaos erupted. Mingi and Jongho were teaming up against Wooyoung, San was laughing as he tried to get Yeosang who was swiftly evading him. Yunho and Seonghwa were using everything they had to splash each other which you were caught in the middle of. You joined in the giant splashing match with Yunho and Seonghwa with loud laughter. Hongjoong popped back up and immediately got splashed in the face by Seonghwa who was trying to get Yunho. Seonghwa immediately slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the laugh bubbling up his throat. You could see the crinkles at the corners of his eyes while he hid his large smile. Yunho was slowly retreating backwards with you. Everyone went dead still and the only noise was the rippling of the still settling water.

“Scatter!” You yelled as you dove away from everyone. Each of the boys went in different directions and you ended up under the small waterfall that held the slide. There was a small ledge that you were standing on which kept you mostly hidden in the corner. You watched in the shade as Hongjoong went after Seonghwa first. As soon as he got close enough he jumped on his back. Seonghwa let out loud laughter and they both struggled for a minute before Hwa and fell backwards putting Hongjoong back into the water. As soon as the two of them popped back up from the water they both made their way to Jongho, San, and Wooyoung who all had tried to hide behind the small fire pit space; hint it didn't work very well. You heard San’s yell, Jongho’s laughter, and Wooyoung was almost screaming as the two older men started another splashing war. Mingi and Yunho joined in from their hiding spot in the actual firepit space, the two of them had leapt over the group of men and started splashing everyone. There was a shout from Wooyoung “COME AND GET ME FIX ON MOTHER FUCKER” (This is a reference to one of my favorite writers @mimikittysblog in this fic you should check it out) You let out a laugh and it was about that time that you saw someone moving toward you under the water. Yeosang popped up in front of you with a small smile.

“Hi, having fun?” You whispered so you wouldn't be giving your position away. He nodded and moved toward you stepping up onto the small ledge. He settled his arms on your shoulders and you wrapped yours around his waist. He slightly pulled you toward him almost like he was going to give you a hug, but he didn't; he just lingered close.

“I wanted to tell you something because I didn't get the chance earlier,” you nodded letting him know you were listening. His eyes were beautiful in the outside light. You could see the small flecks of different browns in his eyes.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” You immediately flushed at his words, your stomach burst into butterflies and you could feel your heart stutter. While you expected him to be more reserved it didn't really surprise you that he would be more apt to speak about his feelings when it was just the people he loved.

“You think I’m gorgeous. You want to kiss me. You want to hug me. You want to love me. You want to smooch me.” You did a small dance in his arms while quoting one of your favorite movies; Miss Congeniality. He shook his head at you with a small bashful smile and avoided your eyes. His hands tightened around you for just a second before he looked back to you with a confident look in his beautiful eyes.

“I have so much more up my sleeve just like you do, Kkulbeol.” He gently moved his arms from your shoulders and cupped your face with both of his hands and brought you into a sweet kiss. His lips were soft against yours and tasted slightly like the pool water. You melted into his hold letting your eyes close. He was sweet and gentle while he held your face in his hands. His hands moved from your face down your shoulders and arms to settle on your sides, giving them a light squeeze. His touch was reverent and light which sent a shiver through your body. You moved your hands to play with the still damp strands of his hair and tug at them just a little. A small noise left him and you smiled into the kiss with him as your lips moved in sync. He pulled you closer and gave one final push into the kiss before separating himself from you. The smile on his face was absolutely radiant.

“What does Kkulebeol mean Sangie?” you asked curiously while pushing a strand of his hair away from his eyes. Your noses were almost touching and you could feel his breath ghosting across your face.

“It means honeybee. If I remember correctly you call me sweets and I thought it would match well, if that’s okay.” He looked at the pool water and you felt his fingers start to trace small shapes into your hips. The bashful Yeosang was back and you wanted to squish him.

“I didnt even think you would remember that you were very tipsy and very sleepy when I called you that” you giggled, “but I don't mind the name in the slightest.” The butterflies in your stomach were just going in circles at this point, he was so endearing. He met your eyes again and leaned to rest his forehead on yours. The two of you were just basking in each other's quiet presence.

“Y/n-nie? Sangie?” You heard some of the boys yelling for the two of you. You snickered at them staying as quiet as you could. Yeosang had turned away from you to look behind him toward the voices. The two of you crouched down closer to the surface of the water and watched as the other seven men looked around for you.

“How long do you think they will take before they find us?” you whispered.

“Knowing how observant they are probably never” he snarked with a small smile over his shoulder at you. You slapped a hand over your mouth to keep the giggle at his monotone response. The loud yelling for the two of you continued until Jongho made his way toward your hiding spot. He spotted the two of you peeking out of the water like alligators and laughed.

His laughter drew the attention of the others and soon you were blocked into the small space under the waterfall. You and Yeosang looked at each other and smiled, a silent understanding passing between the two of you before you moved into action. The first one you went for was Wooyoung, as quickly as you could you brought your hands back and splashed him as hard as you could. His responding yell was something that made your ears ring. Yeosang went for Yunho and by extension got Mingi in the process. The three of them immediately retaliated and started splashing you both. Somewhere along the line Hongjoong, Seonghwa and San joined your side and Jongho was just going for anyone at this point. After a few more minutes of absolute warfare under the waterfall you all retreated and started floating around the pool. Wooyoung ended up just floating around with you hand in hand.

“Do we want to play a game?” You moved your head up from your floating position to look who was asking. Yunho was the only one that was up and out of the relaxed floating position, which meant it was probably him.

“We could play chicken or we could play sharks and minnows” Yunho suggested after a minute of no one saying anything.

“I'm always down for a game of chicken,” you moved your body up to be more vertical. He turned to look at you and started approaching you with a smile. All of the other boys that were scattered around the pool popped up one by one and made their way toward you and Wooyoung, who hadn't let go of your hand. “We do have an odd number of players so someone will have to be the ref or an instigator.”

“An instigator?” You turned to look at Jongho who was the first to get to you after Yunho.

“Yeah, when I was younger and playing with some of my cousins, before they became assholes, if there was an odd number you could be the ref or the instigator. The instigator generally would go around stirring trouble making people move closer to others or knocking someone over, but we always limited it to one knockover so they wouldn't have too much power.” Most of the boys hummed at the answer. You looked over at everyone and they seemed to be debating something telepathically. Before too long they had come to some unknown agreement and Yunho swiftly picked you up out of the water and put you on his shoulders. A noise of surprise came out of you. You grabbed a hold of his hands that were sitting on your thighs, you locked your legs around his arms and made sure you were secure. Jongho was going to be the instigator and you were fairly sure that you wouldn't be knocked over.

Mingi had Yeosang on his shoulders, Hongjoong was on Seonghwa’s shoulders, and Woo was on Sannie’s shoulders. Jongho called start and immediately Yunho went over to who he deemed his biggest opponent. Mingi and Yeosang. You had an idea for this one but he would have to get you close enough to be able to execute it. As soon as he got close enough to those two you put your hands on Yeosang’s biceps, he looked at you and flexed slightly to show off. You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a gentle push to see how stable he was. Mingi was doing well but you knew if you knocked just hard enough into Yeosang he would be out. You let go of him and cocked your head to the side, you could use some aegyo to your advantage here, you knew he didn't really like it and it could go one of two ways. He would like yours and then use his cuteness aggression on you or it would annoy him and you would have the chance to knock him into the water. You put your hands on your cheeks

“You wouldn't dunk your girlfriend would you?” He squinted at you and rolled his eyes. The quick distraction was just enough that you quickly reached out and shoved him back as hard as you could. He lost his balance and fell back enough that he took Mingi with him. You looked down at Yunho who was looking up at you with a large smile which you reciprocated. You gave him a small pat on his head as he turned around to see Wooyoung and Hongjoong battling it out. The both of them were taking turns smacking each other’s hands trying to knock the other off kilter just enough. A pathetic game of chicken if you had anything to say about it.

“Want to go see if we can get both of them in one shot?” Mingi and Yeosang had come to stand on either side of you and Yunho.

“After the aegyo mind game you just pulled on me I think you could do anything. We could go and distract everyone if you want.” You looked at Yeosang who was standing there staring at the other five with his arms crossed. He looked up at you with a cute smile.

“As long as princess wins I don't care.” Taking in Mingi on your other side you could see the small smile on his face.

“Sharing your princess title Mingles?” He looked up at you and his small smile morphed into a larger one.

“Only with you.” You felt your heart stutter if you could have you would have reached down to squish his cheeks.

“Let's go get them before they knock each other over.” Mingi and Yeosang started that way first and you watched as they began their distraction by shit talking. You heard the shouts of the other members trying to protest but they just kept egging them on. Yunho made his way over as quietly as he could. Jongho was the only one who spotted the both of you. He smirked and moved to the side so you had a clear shot of knocking the both of them over without hitting him.

“Hey Joongie, get fucked” You muttered as soon as you got close enough and shoved into Hongjoong’s back. He went careening forward and into Wooyoung. Seonghwa and San couldn't keep their balance and all four of them toppled into the water. You let out a loud whoop of celebration while throwing your arms into the air. Jongho was grinning at you with a proud look on his face. As soon as they resurfaced Yunho gently let you down with the help of Jongho.

Hongjoong was glaring at you, you could tell it was one of those glares that didn't mean anything other than mild annoyance; especially because of the smile on his face. You turned to Yunho and smiled up at him, he was already smiling at you. The moment was cut short when Wooyoung screeched and started moving toward something in the water. You quickly turned to see what was going on; Toothless in all his glory was getting into the pool. You smiled at Toothless before making your way over to him.

“He’s okay Woo,” you set your hand on his shoulder as you passed. As soon as you got close enough you picked him up and held him like a baby over your shoulder. He headbutted you as you turned to look at the rest of the boys who were wearing shocked expressions.

“Remember the first day we met and I told you that they like water? He makes a point of coming out here to join me sooner or later any time I am out here. The other two just generally get in the water enough to hang out on one of the lounge chairs.” You looked to the giant that was resting comfortably on your shoulder “But he also knows that if he gets in he is going to have to be subjected to his cute shark floaty. Could one of you go and grab it out of the small chest near the slide? It should be right on the top.” San immediately started moving toward the side of the pool. Seonghwa approached the two of you and started to pet Toothless who immediately started purring.

You made your way over to one of the shallow parts of the pool where the girls’ lounge chairs were before setting Toothless down. San made his way over to you and handed you the floaty. You made quick work of getting it on him and giving him chin scratches. Just as soon as you got it on him you stepped away and watched as he started following you like always.

“Waa so cute!” You turned to look at the rest of the boys who were just watching Toothless. He was swimming around and had made his way over to Seonghwa who immediately cooed at him. Hongjoong was right behind him and absolutely enamored by how calm Toothless was in the water.

You swam over to the small chest close to the water that the floaty came out of and reached inside for some of the pool toys you knew he loved. When you turned around you launched the toys out across the water and accidentally hit Mingi with one. You snickered and acted like nothing happened while Yeosang and Jongho laughed. When Toothless caught sight of one he immediately started swimming toward it to smack it around. San approached and grabbed the end of the small rope toy and started dragging it around the pool with a large smile. You laughed at the two of them just having fun. You knew you could trust them with Toothless so you made your way over to one of the lounge chairs to just lay in the sun, the war had tuckered you out. Mocha and Beans were both stretched out on the one closest to you. Reaching over you ran a hand over both of them and settled back to your previous spot.

A few minutes later you heard someone approaching, you didn't even open your eyes to see who it was before they laid between your legs and on top of your stomach. The drips of water were refreshing but also a little cold for your warm skin. Peeking your eyes open you saw Mingi looking up at you with his chin on your stomach. You moved your arms from above your head and started running your fingers through his hair. He hummed and wrapped his arms around your waist the best he could. Neither of you spoke, just rested there in the sun.

After playing with Toothless in the water everyone went inside to dry off and change so they could lounge around the house. As soon as you took out your contacts and got changed into a black maxi dress that fell just below your knees you stepped out and made your way downstairs. Everyone else was still changing in the rooms they had taken over, some of them opted to take showers. Seonghwa and Hongjoong were currently doing so in your bathroom. You knew you would have a little bit until they reappeared so you made your way to the piano room. You were slowly starting to yearn to play like you used to.

As soon as you made it down you made small work of dusting some of the things off. You had neglected this room, locking it away ever since her death. Making sure everything was still in its rightful place you made your way over to your piano on the right. You flourished as you sat and started thinking of songs to play. A small smile made its way to your face at the possibility of the rest of the boys discovering that you play by letting them hear one of their songs. You could only imagine what sort of chaos Wooyoung, San, Mingi, and Hongjoong would create. You started playing and smiled at the notes you hadn't played in a long time.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

Walking downstairs there was a beautiful song coming from the basement. He stopped to listen and immediately recognized one of the songs he helped produce, but why would she be playing a piano cover on her speakers? Curiosity getting the better of him he quickly made his way down the rest of the stairs with Seonghwa shortly behind him. The elder of the two was smiling as he followed at his own pace. The closer Hongjoong got the more he realized that it wasn’t over the speakers, it was an actual piano. Following the music he made his way into the large dining room in the basement, a door he hadn't even noticed before was cracked open and the music was flowing out of it.

He approached the door and pushed it open a little further to see you sitting on the seat at a matte black piano with silver embellishments which was across from an older wooden piano with beautiful black detailing. Your hair was moving around you as you swayed with the tune of Halazia. He froze, it was like all of the things in the room vanished as he focused on you; the woman he was falling more and more in love with as each day passed.

His mind wandered to the conversation you had yesterday. He couldn't believe that you had been treated so terribly in the past. You could have become a rotten human just as they were but you hadn't; but it did make you horrible on yourself. He didn't understand why you believed them, you were beautiful, amazing, kind, and so unbelievably strong. You were one of a kind and so loved, and if it took him every day for the rest of his life he would show you that.

Your hands were drifting across the keys perfectly and he held his breath as you got to the chorus of the song. You executed it perfectly, capturing the haunting feeling of the song. As soon as you finished the song you turned to look at him with a large smile, one that could make anyone swoon; especially him.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“Hi Joongie! Hi Hwa!” They were already smiling at you as they approached the bench you were sitting on. You scooted over and let him sit on either side of you. Hongjoong wrapped his arm around your waist and just sat there with you for a minute before speaking.

“You Nae Sarang (My Love), are full of surprises, he gently shoved you with his shoulder and you laughed as you rebounded from Seonghwa.

“I told you so,” you jested with a small bashful blush. He rolled his eyes at you and gently grabbed your hand that was sitting on your lap to press a kiss to the back of it. Immediately you felt the tips of your ears get warm.

“How many of our songs do you know for the piano?”

“Several actually,” You brushed an imaginary chip off your shoulder. They both laughed at you, the sound made your heart melt into a puddle in your chest.

“Play me one?” Hongjoong asked sweetly. You nodded and thought about which song you wanted to play. Your mind traveled all over the place trying to see which one you could play.

“Alright, I've got one but I'll need you to both to scoot your cute butts so I can properly play.” They chuckled at you and Seonghwa got up to go grab the small stool that was sitting by your Granny’s piano. Gently he set it down for Hongjoong who sat down and Seonghwa took a seat on the floor in front of him. They were both intently watching you. You smiled down at them before beginning to play. Hongjoong couldn't contain his smile, he loved knowing that his music inspired people. Seonghwa was just happy to watch you willingly share this part of you.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

Someone was playing the piano somewhere. The two of them looked at each other before grabbing each other's hands and following the sound. Rushing down the steps to the basement they could hear the piano more clearly. Making their way over to the corner of the large dining room they peeked in to see you, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa smiling at each other. Hongjoong was lightly singing his part while you played the piano for him and Seonghwa. Your smile was absolutely radiant as your hands glided over the keys playing one of their songs. They both saw the look Hongjoong only reserved for them and immediately knew that you wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon if they had anything to say about it. For the second time in what only felt like seconds they looked at each other. Seonghwa had caught them standing in the doorway and motioned for them to come closer. They walked in and looked you both over, you were smiling down at the keys as you played Deja Vu and Hongjoong was wearing one of the most sincere looks of awe while he watched you.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“Yah, why didn't you tell us you played the piano?!” You felt someone’s hands on your shoulders and jumped to look over your shoulder at Wooyoung. His smile was so bright you couldn't help but to mirror it. San was standing next to him with a very similar look on his face and you wanted to reach up and poke his dimples.

“I actually haven't played for a long time until the last couple of days.” You rubbed the back of your neck. Hongjoong took that as a sign to grab your other hand.

“You don't have to tell us if you don't want to, we have all the time in the world, you tell us at your own pace.” You nodded and snuck a glance at the pictures scattered across the wall. Your heart swelled with a little bit of sadness but mostly happiness while you looked over the pictures.

“Maybe another time then, I don't want this to be a sap fest,” you chuckled looking down at his hand holding yours.

“Any other songs of ours you have?” Hongjoong asked, in all honesty he just wanted to listen and watch you play, and possibly distract you.

“I have a few more.”

“Play one for us! Please Noona?” Wooyoung was practically bouncing and looking at you with a large smile, San was just staring at him with a lovestruck look. You nodded and turned back to the piano. This time it would be something that you knew would get them to dance. You started the beginning notes and just like you predicted as soon as they recognized it they all started cheering and dancing around the room.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

“Is that Bouncy? Am I hearing that right?” The other three looked at Mingi like he was crazy. “Listen, it's Bouncy” He took off down the steps, almost tripping over one of the giants, following the music that was floating around in the basement. The remaining three shared a knowing look before following the clumsy man. As soon as he burst in the door he saw you with your head back laughing while playing the piano. San, Wooyoung, Hongjoong, and Seonghwa were all parading around the room dancing to the music. He stopped dead and watched the absolute joy enveloping the room. The only thing that was missing was the rest of them. Mingi felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to look at Jongho who was trying to get into the room. He stepped aside and let him and the rest of the boys in. All of them started singing and as soon as it got to his part he joined in belting out the lyrics with the rest of his boyfriends.

★☆☽ O ☾☆★

You immediately heard when the rest of the boys joined you in the piano room. They were all parading around the room dancing and singing while you played. This was the joy that propelled you to play after so long; being able to bring such happiness to people was one of your favorite things. Your head was thrown back laughing at the glimpses of the boys who were having so much fun together. You focused back in on the notes and as soon as the song came to a close you turned around and looked at them. Every one of them was beaming at you and clapping animatedly. You stood up and took a small mocking bow. Yunho made his way over to you and grabbed your hand raising it to perform another bow; just like your Granny used to. It was in this moment that you realized these men were your home; just like she had been.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Next Chapter (Chapter 18 Coming Soon)

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Thanks for reading! <3 Moonie

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@breadedloafs @a-short-ass-disappointment @ateezswonderland @staytinyluv @cherryangel-coke @11glitch11 @neivivenaj @herpoetryprincess @premverse @starryjoong-jeongcheollie @sol3chu @diouysns @beccaskz @bands-r-my-heros @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @vtyb23

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zivaninja · 4 months ago

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Blue Bloods finale things/spoilers under the cut that I wanted to yell about:

• Jamko parents!!! Parents!! Oh how far they've come 😭

• I'm going to miss Eddie Janko so damn much, that's my girl.

•Jack and Erin getting married!! They finally got their happy ending. And the looks on their faces at dinner as they decided to keep it to themselves was just so 💜😭

• Danny's face when Henry tells him to find his person to come home to. He already knows.

• Danny Reagan! Asking Maria Baez! On a date! And her saying yes! He doesn't need to go look for his person because she's right there besides him. And the look on her face when she agreed!!

#blue bloods #jamko #jerin #daez #eddie janko #i'm going to miss so many of these characters so fucking much #crying over jamko on tumblr gone midnight I suddenly feel like i'm 18 again when I literally just turned 25 yday #I expected jamko parents and we knew that jack and erin were back together but getting 3/3 for my ships? blessed #jerin getting married again feels so right. their chemistry is unmatched #(the way jack looks at her. I get it.)#and then danny asking baez on a date took me out #the implication that he thought about what henry said for a few days and all his thinking led him back to maria because she's his girl.#and he just knew he had to take that leap.#(It's fine i'm going insane over here)#i am a bit miffed that we won't actually see anything beyond him asking her out and it was slightly open ended #but considering that we knew that danny didn't want to act on his feelings bc he didn't want to risk the pain of losing her/her getting hur #the fact that he asked her out was hugely significant #the fact that he specifically said it was because he had been thinking about what henry said to him is making me lose it #they obviously hang out outside work anyway but this is Different. you could tell by how almost nervous danny was 😭 but #she was right there with him. as she always is. they're partners in every sense.#and baez knows it too!!! the look on her face!! danny will tell her one day what it was that henry said and she'll Know.#god I am going to be thinking about them for the forseeable #3/3 on my ships and a good ending on a series finale is so rare for me #anyway i've been watching this show weekly since like 2014/15 and had watched it before that with my dad #so it's so strange that it's ending. it's one of the first shows that i've watched week in and out for donkeys years that is ending and it'#gonna be odd to not have that show in my watching list anymore #shut up g #(good god sorry about the tags I had to get that all out)#if anyone actually read any of that and still wants to come yell about these things please do :)

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acourtofquestions · 5 months ago

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Hearth to hearth, the Flame of War went.

Over snow-blasted mountains and amongst the trees of tangled forests, hiding from the enemies that prowled the skies. Through long, bitterly cold nights where the wind howled as it tried to wipe out any trace of that flame.

But the wind did not succeed, not against the flame of the queen.

So hearth to hearth, it went.

To remote villages where people screamed and scattered as a young-faced woman descended from the skies on a broom, waving her torch high.

Not to signal them, but the few women who did not run. Who walked toward the flame, the rider, as she called out, "Your queen summons you to war. Will you fly?"

Trunks hidden in attics were thrown open. Folded swaths of red cloth pulled from within. Brooms left in closets, beside doorways, tucked under beds, were brought out, bound in gold or silver or twine. And swords-ancient and beautiful—were drawn from beneath floorboards, or hauled down from haylofts, their metal shining as bright and fresh as the day they had been forged in a city now lying in ruin.

Witches, the townsfolk whispered, husbands wide-eyed and disbelieving as the women took to the skies, red cloaks billowing. Witches amongst us all this time.

Village to village, where hearths that had never once gone fully dark blazed in answer.

Always one rider going out, to find the next hearth, the next bastion of their people.

Witches, here amongst us. Witches, now going to war.

A rising tide of witches, who took to the skies in their red cloaks, swords strapped to their backs, brooms shedding years of dust with each mile northward.

Witches who bade their families farewell, offering no explanation before they kissed their sleeping babes and vanished into the starry night.

Mile after mile, across the darkening world, the call went out, ceaseless and unending as the eternal flame that passed from hearth to hearth.

"Fly, fly, fly!" they shouted. "To the queen! To war!"

Far and wide, through snow and storm and peril, the Crochans flew.

#Chapter 65 #Kingdom of Ash #Sarah J. Maas #Manon Blackbeak #no spoilers please first read along with me #spoilers in post and tags with more notes reactions quotes annotations etc in tags #Dorian had gone to Morath. Had flown from the camp on wings of his own making.#He would have chosen some sort of small ordinary bird Manon knew. Something even the Thirteen would not have noted #Crunching snow told her Asterin approached. He left didn't he. She nodded unable to find words. — she knew. East not North.#She had offered him everything and had thought he'd meant to accept it. Had thought he did accept it #She had offered him everything and had thought he'd meant to accept it. Had thought he did accept it. Yet it had been farewell.#He would not cage her would not accept what she'd given. As if he knew her better than she knew herself. Do we go after him?#Today-today they would decide where to go. Today she'd dare ask the Crochans to follow. — The Last Crochan Queen The Witch-Queen #to head back into hell The sun rose full and golden as if it were the solitary note of a song filling the world. — for him she would #Terrasen calls for aid! A young Crochan's voice rang through the camp. — but for her people — THEY GOT THE CALL — GO NOW #Even if she'd needed it waited for it. The Flame of War. What say you Queen of Witches? A challenge and a dare. Manon lifted her chin to -#-the two paths before her. one to the east to Morath the other NORTHward to Terrasen and to battle. The wind sang and in it she heard the #answer. I shall answer Terrasen's call Manon said. Asterin stepped to her side fearless as she surveyed the assembled camp. As shall I.#And so it went. Until the leaders of all seven of the Great Hearths stood gathered there. — I’m not crying ur crying — fire bringer #Rhiannon Crochan rode at King Brannon's side into battle. So has her likeness been reborn so shall the old alliances be forged anew.#Light the Flame of War Queen of Witches and rally your host. — the eternal flame — darkness will not claim them #Even the wind did not jostle the flame as Manon lifted it a torch in the new day. The Crochan crowd parted revealing a straight path toward #Bronwens Hearth. Each step was a drumbeat of war. An answer to a question posed long ago. Your Queen summons you to war. — Hearth to Heart #Then and only then did the young scout from the final clan take her burning torch grab her broom and leap into the skies.#To find the next clan to tell them the call had gone out. — nothing but a smoldering speck against the sky then nothing at all. — Hope.#Manon offered a silent prayer on the wind that the sacred flame the young scout bore would burn steadfast over the long dangerous miles.#All the way to the killing fields of Terrasen. Hearth to hearth the Flame of War went.#Fly fly fly! they shouted. To the queen! To war! Far and wide through snow and storm and peril the Crochans flew.#Terrasen calls for aid — so they follow. — Hold on LysAedion come on Aelin — I’m not crying I’m just crying — NOW GO QUICK #The true Witch Queen child of peace and war Manon Blackbeak of the Thirteen & Rhiannon The Last Crochan Queen

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sai-int · 20 days ago

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RETURN TO SENDER | simon riley

It was a joke. A letter to a criminal—UK's most wanted. You told him he was hot. Told him you were a virgin. Left your address, because it’s not like he’d ever get out, right?

✉ 2K FOLLOWER SPECIAL .ᐟ | [ AO3 ]

18+ AU, DUBCON, fem!reader, takes place in the UK, porn with plot, pathetic!reader, harddom!simon, asshole!simon, implied stalking, (morally irredeemable) pining, oral (f receiving), shit-ton of degradation, praise if you use a magnifying glass, virginity kink, pussy pronouns, pussy & face slapping, dacryphilia, unprotected sex [ 10.2k words ]

✘ SEQUEL : ' IN CONTEMPT '

Who knew working at Tesco would be such a fucking nightmare?

It’s almost absurd how people can forget how to use their brains the second they step through the automatic doors. It’s a massive store, but you’ve come to believe that its sheer scale only amplifies some customers’ overwhelming stupidity.

You find yourself watching, day in and day out, as people stumble over the easiest parts of shopping, like scanning a barcode or finding the right aisle despite the sign above their heads. It’d be laughable if it wasn’t so damn frustrating. You can’t even afford the luxury of venting because you're stuck behind the register, forced to plaster on a fake smile, nodding while they hold up the line, your eye twitching as you answer the same question for the umpteenth time in 30 minutes.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of gritted teeth and hollow patience, your shift comes to an end. The relief is brief, but it’s there, at least. You drag yourself out of the store, shoulders slumped under the weight of the day. The commute home isn’t any prettier, but it’s a kind of mindless ritual that’s grown familiar over time—20 minutes on the train, crammed between strangers who are just as exhausted, just as done with the grind. The train lurches and hums beneath you, a rhythmic noise that almost lets you forget the stress. But you’re too far gone for that kind of escape, your mind still whirling with all the things you’ve had to swallow throughout the day.

The train empties as the sun sinks below the horizon, each stop peeling away another layer of the late afternoon crowd. You finally step off the train at the final stop, the air crisper than when you left for work nearly 11 hours ago. The walk home is short, but it’s long enough for your legs to remind you that you’ve been standing for hours. Ten long minutes to your flat, a familiar route that feels both comforting and suffocating in its monotony.

After walking down some quiet streets, past some sketchy alleyways, you finally reach your tiny one-bedroom flat. It’s tucked just outside Bromley, and it’s small, not much at all, but it’s enough. It’s the kind of space that suffocates you some days and feels like a sanctuary on others. You push your key into the lock and push the door open. You kick your shoes off and they thud as they hit the floor, echoing through your small flat. You hang your keys on the singular hook you stuck on the wall, barely noticing the clink of them settling into place.

This is what most days look like for you: wake up, subject yourself to a long, draining shift, then return home to an empty flat and an even emptier fridge. It's a routine that feels as hollow as the flat itself. The days fly by in a boring cycle of work, silence, and the echo of things you thought you’d left behind when you took the leap and moved out.

After college, you made it a point to leave your parents’ house. You couldn’t stay in the nest anymore, not when you so strongly believed there was something better waiting out there. You had to prove you could stand on your own, that you didn’t need the constant supervision or the suffocating presence of a family that just didn’t get it.

Honestly, who could? Who could stay locked in a house that felt less like a home and more like a cage? College had been the escape you’d craved, the independence you had always wanted. You dove in headfirst, joining club after club, meeting all kinds of people, each one with their own story, a sort of authenticity that people in high school never had.

In college, one of the many things you got involved in was Vets Club, which wrote letters to veterans, thanking them for their service. It was a simple thing, but there was something about it that felt right. You’d write a few lines of gratitude, nothing big, just a small act of kindness. And sometimes, you’d get a letter back. The responses were always the same—surprised and grateful that someone even bothered to take the time. It never felt like much, but it always made you feel good, knowing you could brighten someone's day just by saying thank you.

But now, when you’re standing in your tiny flat, staring at a barren fridge that only houses a bottle of wine and some leftover takeaway containers, you wonder if wasting your time on asinine things like that were worth it.

You’re having a… Well, a hard time, to put it kindly. The kind of time where nothing seems to go your way, and you can't quite shake the feeling that maybe you made some wrong choices. All of your college friends? They're out there, living it up, traveling the world, landing glamorous careers, posting photos of sunsets in Bali and dinners at places with names you can’t pronounce. They’re thriving, but you’re stuck here, watching their highlight reels on social media while your own life feels like it’s paused on a loop of dead-end shifts and lonely nights.

You had big dreams once. You convinced yourself that an art history degree was going to be the key to something meaningful, something that would set you apart. Now, though? Now, you can barely find work, and the opportunities that do pop up feel like they’re beyond you in all shapes and forms.

Rent and bills are manageable, but manageable doesn’t mean easy. To you, it means scraping by, choosing between a decent meal or keeping the lights on for another month.

Your parents help sometimes, covering the electricity bill here and there, but you’d rather die than let them know how bad it really is. You don’t need their pity, their unsolicited advice, or the smug ‘I told you so’ about picking a more practical degree. No matter how deep you’re sinking, you’ll claw your way up alone. It’s not pride, it’s survival. You’ve always done it yourself, it’s just easier that way.

And the real kicker? The cherry on top of this already pathetic sundae? You’re a fucking virgin. No one to warm your bed, keep you company. Mid-twenties and untouched, while your friends from high school are already posting pictures of shiny rings and baby-bumps. Like struggling to stay afloat wasn’t humiliating enough, you’re also trailing behind in the one thing that’s supposed to have happened already.

You’ve had chances—plenty of chances—but every time, you freeze. The pressure, the vulnerability, and the fear of not measuring up always make you bail.

Not that you’re a prude. You’ve done everything but. Had shitty oral a few times, given it even more. And if the guy’s screaming was anything to go by, you were either naturally good at it or he was just being dramatic. Either way, it was a fleeting moment of triumph in an otherwise awkward, unremarkable sex life, not quite the high point you’d imagined, but in your world of half-hearted hookups and ‘almosts,’ it was something. Proof you weren’t completely out of your depth.

Not that it really mattered.

You shut the fridge and turn to open the cabinet with the same lack of enthusiasm that’s come to define your evenings alone. Peanut butter and jelly, quick, mindless, barely even a choice. You spread the peanut butter, then the jelly, the motion mechanical, just something to fill the silence. The takeout leftovers can last till tomorrow.

You pad over to and collapse on your second-hand couch, the cushions sighing under your weight, and pull your legs beneath you. You grab your phone out of your pocket, thumb idly swiping up to unlock it. The screen lights up, and for a moment, you just stare at it. An infant-sized handful of notifications blink back at you—an automated bill reminder, a news alert you’ll ignore, a lone text from your mom checking in. That’s it. No stream of messages, no flood of tagged posts or party invites. Just a near-empty notification bar, silent in its own damning way.

With a sigh, you lock your phone and toss it aside, letting it land somewhere on the cushion beside you. No one’s waiting for you to reply anyway. Instead, you grab the remote and flick on the TV. The screen blinks to life and you skim through a few channels, the lowest-tier cable offering not much more than black-and-white novellas and the news. You settle for the latter, knowing it won’t add much to your day, but it’ll at least fill the space with noise.

The pretty woman on the screen drones on about politics and stocks, things you don’t have the capacity to care for. You nibble at your sandwich, half-listening as the segment shifts. The soft murmur of the newscaster is background noise until something catches your ear, an undercurrent of excitement creeping into her voice as she announces a breaking story. Your attention sharpens as she mentions a supposed notorious figure, someone whose name apparently carries weight in the world of crime.

A man known only as Ghost. No full name, no history, just a shadow stitched together by word of mouth and grainy security footage. The anchor’s voice is steady as she rattles off his crimes. High-profile armed robberies that bled banks dry, embezzlement schemes that unraveled entire corporations, and a trail of bodies left in the wake of meticulously executed mob hits.

It’s the kind of name you’d expect to hear on the news, or in the underbelly of the city where crime festers unchecked. A name spoken with a mix of fear and reverence, as if he was more myth than man.

And yet, despite knowing nothing about him beyond what you've learned in the last 5 minutes of the broadcast, the sight of him on your TV—towering, masked,—hits you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Intrigue coils in your stomach, but you can’t fight the way he unsettles you.

He’s been arrested. The news anchor’s voice carries the weight of the revelation, the story intensifying with every word. After years on the run, the law has finally caught up with him. Ghost—a ghost no longer—is now locked away in the High-Security Unit of Belmarsh, one of southeast London’s most formidable prisons, home to terrorists, murderers, and just the worst of the worst.

You stare at the screen, the words sinking in as you take another slow bite of your PB&J. There’s a strange sort of chill that runs through you, not from familiarity but from the sheer presence of the large man on the screen, as if he’s in the very room you’re sitting in. The news anchor’s voice drones on, but you’re already lost in thought.

You think back to Vets Club, remembering how the club would sometimes send letters to other people—petty criminals who were locked up for minor counts of drug possession, vandalism, or shoplifting. Stupid shit. At first, it seemed odd, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Why not offer a little kindness to anyone that needs a pick-me-up? They didn’t have to be war heroes.

As long as they didn’t kill anyone—or anything.

So just like the veterans, you guys would send letters. And just like the veterans, you'd sometimes get a reply, a genuine thank you, as if the fact that someone cared enough to reach out made a difference. It was just about being human, about showing some kindness when so much of the world felt cold.

You never wrote to someone like Ghost before. Not someone so... bad. Not someone whose reputation is so undeniably, explicitly rotten. Someone who, many would argue, is explicitly undeserving of such kindness.

You snap back to reality, and his figure dominates the screen—broad shoulders, large muscles even under the clothing, the kind of man who demands attention. The CCTV footage is grainy, a mere screen capture from a longer video plastered on the TV for your viewing pleasure

His face is masked with a skull-patterned balaclava, the fabric stretched taut over his facial features, distorting the skeletal design just enough to make it seem like the grinning visage is shifting with every movement, angular lines that give him an almost inhuman quality—like a wraith lurking in the dark.

He’s swathed in black from head to toe, the fabric of his dark jacket and and even darker pants absorbing the dim light, making him one with the shadows that cling to every surface around him. Each step is silent, calculated, his presence more of a feeling than a sight—an omen in the periphery, waiting.

It’s strangely captivating, the way he looms, the way the static buzz of the television makes it feel like he could crawl through the screen at any second, like that stupid Ring movie. You sort of wish he would.

His image lingers, burned into the LEDs of your TV, burned into your mind. You’re not sure why it catches you the way it does, but you can’t look away. Something about him—his sheer presence, even through a screen—snags at your curiosity like a loose thread begging to be pulled, a sweater unfurled into a heap of yarn. God you’re so lonely.

Your mind drifts as your fingers move almost instinctively. A few quick Google searches lead you down a steep rabbit hole, a litany of news reports covering crimes that stretch back years. No one has seemed to figure out his real name, no verifiable background. Alleged military ties, some say, possibly ex-special forces. Others insist he was born into the criminal underworld, raised by it, shaped by it, an enforcer forged in violence.

Though nothing could be determined for sure, most of the reports agree on one thing for certain: he was methodical, precise, and had an undeniable dedication and passion for his craft. You presumed that’s what made him a terrorist-level threat.

Then you stumble upon another fact—and you pause. Belmarsh Prison, his current home, isn’t even that far. Just a thirty-minute drive from your flat.

That should be alarming, but the thought sinks in your mind like a stone dropped into a well. For a second, the dull, predictable rhythm of your life feels disrupted—a ripple in reality, as if you've slipped into some parallel version of your life, one that isn’t just last night’s leftovers and tomorrow's 10-hour shift.

For the first time in a long while, you feel a flicker of excitement. It makes your life feel a little less dull, like something unexpected, something outside the ordinary routine, has just entered your world. Maybe you could write him a letter—

—No. What the fuck? That’s insane. He’s killed people, and you want to send him a letter?

…

You decide to send him a letter.

It’s not like you’re his number one fan—or a fan at all, for that matter. Plus, the chances of him even reading it are slim to none, he’s probably buried under piles of letters that sound just like the ones you used to write, if not worse.

It’s just a letter. You’re not looking for anything in return. You’ll write to him, then move on, because why not? It’s not about trying to change him or sympathizing with him, it’s just... kindness.

Your half-eaten sandwich is abandoned on the coffee table, forgotten the moment the thought takes root. You push yourself up from the couch. The floor is cold beneath your feet as you move down the narrow hall and toward your bedroom, each step fueled by something you don’t care to name—excitement, recklessness, boredom, maybe all three twisted together.

Your bedroom is dim and poorly lit by your bedside lamp. The air feels alive, the window cracked open, allowing the evening breeze to slip through and blow through the room. The curtains sway with it, shifting shadows across the walls, fleeting and fluid, much like the thoughts in mind.

You reach for an old journal tucked away in your bedside table, its spine softened by years of thumbing through its pages. The cover, once smooth, is now rough with wear, smudged with time and old ink stains. As you flip through, the pages crackle—thin, fragile things filled with half-formed ideas and late-night ramblings from high school.

You find a blank page and grab a pen from the bedside table, its weight familiar, and grounding, and shift into a cross-legged seat on your bed. The mattress dips beneath you, the duvet stretching with the movement.

For a moment, you hesitate. What do you even say to someone like him?

You reason with yourself that if he’s unlikely to even read the letter, then it doesn’t matter. You don’t expect anything to come of it, but the thought of sending a message feels like the most fun you’ve had in years.

You press the pen to the paper.

‘Dear Big Bad Ghost,’

A quiet giggle escapes you at that, the kind that bubbles up when you know you’re doing something absolutely stupid. But really, what’s the harm? You have nothing to lose, no reputation at stake, and no consequences beyond a letter that will likely end up thrown in a trashcan. You might as well have some fun with it. A little tongue-in-cheek humor never hurt anyone.

Your pen glides across the paper, words spilling faster than you can second-guess them. You tell him how you found out about him, how you saw his face flash across your TV screen, how his name is spoken like an urban legend on the news channels. And—because there’s no point in pretending otherwise—you admit the truth outright: you thought he was hot, because—let’s be honest—you wouldn’t be doing something this rash if he wasn’t (you make sure to write that, too).

You just keep going. You tell him you’re 24, impossibly lonely and still a virgin, stuck working at Tesco with the worst coworkers possible, with little excitement in your life. You’re sure you’ve painted yourself as painfully average, definitely the most boring woman on the planet, though you wonder if that in itself might intrigue him. Or maybe he won’t care at all. Either way, the words are already there, ink drying on the page.

You tell him that if this were happening back in the States, they’d have slapped him with a RICO charge so fast he’d get whiplash—but lucky for him, he’s dealing with the UK’s legal system instead. A small mercy, though not much of one.

Your pen barely lifts from the paper as you continue. If he ever gets out, you tell him, your door is open for a ‘good time’. You underline it for emphasis, like a wink through the page, though you’re quick to add that, realistically, you’re sure he’ll be locked up for life.

Still, you suppose, even the worst criminals must get bored. Maybe he’ll want a pen pal to entertain him for the rest of his days.

You sit back, tapping the pen against your chin as you reread the letter. It’s ridiculous, a tad insane, but the thrill of it makes your stomach buzz. Some prison guard will probably skim it, roll their eyes, and toss it straight into the bin.

But still…

You scrawl your name at the bottom and the moment the ink dries, you tear the page from your journal, fold it neatly, and slide it into an envelope. You write your address in the return section. Just in case. Your fingers hesitate at the edge, but before second thoughts can creep in, you lick the edges, the bitter taste making you wince and seal it shut.

Next thing you know, you’re sliding on some slippers, unlocking the front door, and stepping into the cool night air. The mailbox is just a few paces from your front door. The world has gone to sleep for tonight.

You reach the rusted blue box, heart hammering as you pull open the slot. The envelope feels heavier now like it carries more weight than it should. You hover there for a second longer than necessary, gripping the paper between your fingers.

And then you let it go. It’s chilling how easy it is.

The past two weeks have passed in a blur of work, exhaustion, and the crushing weight of an uninspired routine. You’ve long since moved on from the letter. You’ve nearly forgotten about it entirely. Life doesn’t give you much room to dwell on dumb things like that—not when you spend your days dodging entitled customers and biting back the urge to commit minor acts of violence in the break room.

Today was particularly brutal. Some guy spent ten minutes arguing with you over a 5 quid price difference like it was a matter of life and death. A toddler managed to knock over an entire display of crisps while her mom scrolled through Instagram, blissfully unaware. By the time your shift ended, you felt like you’d been put through a meat grinder and then asked to clock out with a smile.

Rush hour on the train only adds insult to injury. Someone sneezes directly onto the back of your neck. Another person else eats an offensively pungent egg sandwich within arm’s reach. You spend the entire ride back gripping the overhead rail and wondering why you ever thought adulthood would be anything more than a slow, soul-draining trudge toward the grave.

By the time you finally get home, your body aches with exhaustion that seeps into your bones. You kick off your shoes, chuck your bag onto the floor, and drag yourself toward the kitchen. There’s no energy left in you for cooking, so you grab some leftover takeout from the fridge and toss it into the microwave, staring blankly at the rotating container as it whirs to life. No, it’s not the same takeout from two weeks ago.

You settle onto the couch with your dinner, flicking through the limited selection of channels. With an eye roll, you settle on the news once more, just as a reporter’s voice cuts in, crisp and professional.

At first, you’re barely paying attention, too focused on shoveling lukewarm noodles into your mouth. But then—

BREAKING NEWS: MASS PRISON RIOT ENSUES AT BELMARSH – GHOST AT LARGE

The bold red banner streaks across the screen, sharp and urgent. Your fork stalls midway to your mouth, noodles slipping off the prongs and back into the container as your brain struggles to catch up.

The news anchor doesn’t miss a beat, her voice steady, polished, and edged with just the right amount of alarm:

“Authorities have confirmed a large-scale riot at Belmarsh Prison earlier this evening, resulting in multiple casualties and the escape of several high-profile inmates—including ‘Ghost’, who was awaiting trial for dozens of indictable offenses.”

Your stomach tightens.

Ghost might be on your doorstep and London might look like Gotham, all before dawn even breaks tomorrow.

For a moment, you simply sit there, absorbing the weight of it. You should probably be more concerned. Probably get up, lock the doors, check your windows, and maybe even send a half-hearted text to your parents that, no, you haven’t been stabbed or kidnapped yet.

After a few more seconds you wisen up, mentally slapping yourself. Super-Mega-Criminal-Ghost has bigger problems than tracking down a random girl who sent him one dumb letter out of the hundreds you’re sure he’s gotten. You’re not special. You’re not even remotely relevant in this situation.

Your eyes lock onto the screen as aerial footage of Belmarsh fills the frame. The prison looks like something out of a videogame—thick plumes of smoke curling into the night sky, roaring flames illuminating figures in riot gear as they swarm the perimeter, floodlights sweeping across the wreckage of what was, until hours ago, one of the most secure facilities in the country. Sirens wail in the background.

Somewhere in that chaos, a man you sent a letter to—that more closely resembled a dating profile— has vanished into thin air.

You exhale, exhausted and too tired to brood on it further. Even if he did show up and break down your door, you’re sure your life couldn’t get worse, so you decide to ignore the news and reach for the remote. With a press of a button, the world of reports and fear-mongering headlines is cut off and replaced by the manufactured warmth of a sitcom.

The studio audience laughs on cue.

You force yourself to eat, to go through the motions. Take small, measured bites, as if chewing will somehow settle the restless feeling creeping up your spine.

It doesn’t.

When you finish the sad lump of noodles, you head to the kitchen. Dishes clink as you rinse them, your mind half-present as your body moves on autopilot.

By the time you’ve cleaned up, the tension in your body has quieted. You tell yourself it’s fine. You’re fine. It’s just another night with one more thing to add to the ever-growing list of reasons why this city is exhausting.

You make your way to the bathroom with a sigh, shutting the door behind you. The day clings to your skin, heavy and lingering, but the promise of hot water is enough to shake off the worst of it.

You twist the shower knob. Pipes groan, then sputter, before a steady stream rushes out. You strip down, kicking your dirty clothes into the corner as steam billows, curling against the mirror until your reflection blurs.

After testing the water with your hand, you step in, a sharp inhale slipping past your lips as the warmth crashes over you. It seeps into your muscles, loosening tension you hadn’t even realized you were still holding. You tilt your head back, eyes fluttering shut as you let it pour over you.

Your body moves through the motions on autopilot. Shampoo, scrubbed into your scalp. Conditioner, combed through the ends with your fingers. The buy-one-get-one soap glides over your skin, the scent of cheap vanilla and pomegranate thick in the humid air, mingling with the steam that cocoons you. You carefully shave where necessary before the water washes everything away.

You finish your shower, stepping out into the warm fog of steam clinging to the bathroom walls. You take your towel off the hook and drag it over your skin, patting your hair just enough to keep it from dripping but not enough to fully dry it.

Right now, all you want is to crawl into bed and pretend this night is just like any other, despite the very real fact that the London Bridge might actually go down overnight.

You don’t bother wrapping the towel around yourself. There’s no point. It’s just you here—always, unfortunately, just you. As much as you wish that wasn’t the case, there’s no reason to pretend otherwise.

Pushing open the bathroom door, steam rushes past you, rolling into the hallway like a ghost of its own. The air is cooler than usual, biting at your damp skin. A shiver rolls through you, goosebumps prickling to life as you clutch the towel tighter around yourself.

You move quickly, bare feet padding against the floor, the cool air chasing you down the hall. You shake it off, the shower was especially hot today, after all.

Once inside your bedroom, you flick on the small lamp on your bedside table. The weak glow struggles against the shadows, barely illuminating the room beyond a soft, feeble pool of light. You sigh, staring at it for a moment. You really should invest in another one, something stronger, something that does its job—but the thought of subjecting yourself to the blinding glare of overhead lighting is unbearable.

The usual cool breeze from the window rolls in and whisks against your skin as you stand in front of the large mirror sitting atop your dresser, as naked as the day you were born. You absentmindedly rub lotion onto your arms and legs, the smooth cream sinking into your skin with satisfying ease, a small act of self-care amidst the shit-show of your life. You swipe on some deodorant, a miscellaneous powdery scent briefly masking the other smells that linger in your room.

You pull open the top drawer, fingers brushing past folded fabric until you find a pair of plain black no-show panties. The material is soft between your fingertips.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband, bending slightly as you slide the fabric up your legs, smooth against your skin. It settles high on your hips, snug and familiar.

But as you straighten, the air feels different.

Your breath stalls, a tight, involuntary hitch in your throat. A prickle skates down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck rising, your body sensing the shift before your mind can grasp it. Then comes the scent. Subtle quickly shifts to suffocating.

Ash, woody and bitter like a lonely bonfire.

Gunpowder, metallic and pungent like a shrill war cry.

And beneath it all, something brutally masculine. Utterly tart, like blood welling on your tongue, bitter, metallic, yet impossible to spit out so you’re forced to swallow.

You’re still facing the mirror, bare skin gleaming under the dim light, damp where the shower’s heat still lingers. Your reflection is all soft curves and slow, steady breaths, the delicate contrast of black fabric against your skin.

But you’re not looking at yourself anymore.

Your eyes are locked onto something else. Someone else.

Over your right shoulder, a hulking figure sits backward in your desk chair, big, long legs spread on either side, the heavy, shadowy outline of him filling the space behind you. His presence is so sudden, so jarring, that it takes you a moment to even process it. From what you can make out, he is facing you, arms crossed over the backrest like he owns the room.

You’re frozen, trapped in your own body, your mind a tangled mess of confusion and fear. You scramble to process how this could even be happening. Your eyes dart to the window over your left shoulder in the reflection, the wind howling on cue as if to mock you.

Your window is violently wrenched ajar, and suddenly, the drop in temperature makes sense. That’s what you felt earlier—the sudden chill that wrapped around you the second you stepped out of the bathroom. How you didn’t feel it moments ago is beyond you.

Your heart pounds in your ears, a brutal thundering that mutes the voice in your head telling you to run, single-handedly hijacking every morsel of reason you possess. Each beat is so violent, that you think you can feel your ribs splintering, cracking to make room.

You can’t help but stare at yourself, standing there, exposed and utterly vulnerable, tits perked and on display like it’s time for Sunday dinner. But it’s impossible to make yourself move. Your feet feel like cinder blocks.

Your eyes flick back to him.

He hasn’t moved. Not an inch. A statue of flesh and shadow, his towering frame swallowing the space behind you. Your breath stutters as your gaze collides with his—an accident, a mistake. Dark eyes, barely visible, catch the light as he leans in, closer, closer still.

You regret it instantly. Your stomach flips, twisting in on itself as something molten ignites deep inside you. Butterflies—you’re sure—but they feel wrong, tainted, clawing their way up your throat, wings drenched in bile, desperate to break free.

He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t even breathe.

Just silen—

“Shouldn’t’ve given a dog a bone, Girl.”

Oh.

Shit.

You swallow, the motion sharp and dry, as your eyes fixate on the sliver of him that the mirror allows you to see. Your tongue feels like it’s too big for your mouth, thick and clumsy, but it's not just that—it’s as though it’s been wrung dry like you’ve forgotten how to speak, how to make any sound at all.

Could be fight, could be flight—or could be sheer, reckless stupidity. Superficial courage floods your veins, burning hot and impulsive. You don’t know where it comes from, only that it’s there, forcing you to turn, to face him, not through the mirror’s reflection but for real, head-on. Your body obeys even as your mind screams to stop, to run, to do anything but face the giant sitting in the chair behind you. It must be adrenaline.

You pivot, and the room changes. It warps.

He fills the room—dominates it—far more than four walls should ever allow, and far more than your traitorous mirror portrayed. His frame is more ape than human, more God than man, every inch of him radiating undomesticated power that seems to bend the very air around him like a mirage.

He’s dressed in grey, prison-issued sweatpants, the soft fabric taut over his thick, spread thighs. A matching grey sweatshirt is tied around his waist, a small, white wife-beater stretched across his chest. The fabric strains against the thickness of his body, pecs beneath like boulders, barely contained by the threadbare material. The shirt looks as though it might snap under the sheer pressure of him.

It almost seems pointless for him to wear it.

A sick part of you wishes he didn’t.

Around his neck, a set of dog tags dangles, the metal catching the light as it sways in rhythm with his slow, steady breaths. His arms are a canvas of dark ink—twisting amalgamations of war and death, flames and ruin etched into his skin. The same balaclava you’ve seen on your screen stretches over his face, but it feels even more menacing now.

His eyes—dark brown, nearly black—burn as they lock onto you. There’s an eerie glow to them, a depth that makes your stomach twist. You can barely make out their full shape, but you feel the weight of his gaze, the way it maps your body with an intensity that singes. He’s memorizing you, branding you into his mind, scorching every visible inch of your skin just by looking.

Which, right now, is essentially all of it.

It’s suffocating, and overwhelming. The space around you seems to shrink, the walls pressing inward, forcing you to feel the heft of his presence. Your bubble, your safe little world, vanishes, replaced by the oppressive weight of him, his sheer size and power making the room feel like a part of a dollhouse, too small to contain him. Every breath feels harder to take like you’re drowning, and he’s the rip current that dragged you out from shore and pushed you under.

And then, as if sensing your every thought, as if aware of your discomfort and your disbelief, he shifts. Just a subtle movement at first. But a shift is all it takes before he’s not sitting anymore.

Your breath catches in your throat, as he slowly rises from the chair, taking up even more of the room, shadow growing longer in his wake, his muscles rippling in the lamplight. He doesn’t rush. No, there’s no need. He moves, each large step bringing him closer to you.

All that ‘courage’ drained. You never thought you’d be the frozen-in-fear type, but here you are, your body stiff and uncooperative as you look up at him. Your neck cranes back further and further, unwillingly following as he stalks toward you, each step near imperceptible to the ear. At least you know why you didn’t hear him come in.

You’re backed flush against your dresser, your breath coming in shallow gasps, your chest tight with panic, but you can’t look away. You don’t even know if you want to. There’s a strange magnetism to him, something almost predatory in the way he moves, so controlled, so sure.

It’s addicting.

Your thighs clench together at the internal acceptance, a small attempt at some kind of control over the sick part of your brain that’s turned on by this.

“Quiet little thing.” His voice is low, gravelly like it’s been rubbed raw, but there’s a hint of amusement in it, a wicked edge that makes your skin prickle and your cunt gush. He takes another step closer, a mere foot away, the distance between you is agonizing. “Glad you’re not a screamer.”

He pauses just in front of you, towering over you. The weight of his gaze chokes you like a noose. He doesn’t miss when your thighs clench. You could have sworn you saw the flicker of a smile beneath the balaclava, though it’s hard to tell.

“I’m not gonna bite, Girl,” he tuts, “unless y’want me to.”

The way he says it—so carnivorously—sends a jolt of electricity down your spine, a hot flush of pure shame of pooling low in your stomach. You're still frozen, unsure whether you should respond, run, or drop to your knees.

“Y’sent me a letter,” he continues, his voice softening just slightly as his eyes flick to your tits like he’s checking out a new appliance.

“Tellin’ me all about your boring little life,” He steps even closer, “And that sweet little cunt, untouched like you want me t’make it mine.”

You try to speak, but only your mouth moves, your vocal cords too dry, too hoarse, and your throat constricted. He notices. The slight twitch of his lips like he’s enjoying how utterly speechless you are, how dumb you look.

“Y’want me t’make it mine? Hmm? That why you gave a ‘Big Bad’ man your address?”

You swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat, but it’s futile. Is this what you were subconsciously hoping for when you wrote down which street you lived on and your apartment number? Did you want this? Were you that lonely—that desperate?

“Can y’imagine how hard I came,” he leans over you, his breath hot against your ear, you feel it through the mask, “How I rubbed my cock raw to the thought of some dumb virgin with the audacity of a dozen slags?”

Yeah. You were that desperate.

You nearly whimper at the way he talks to you. You finally manage to take a breath, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I— I didn’t think you’d—”

He cocks his head slightly as if considering your words “What? Didn’t think I’d show?” he repeats, dragging the words out slowly, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips as if he’s savoring the mockery in them. “You invited me here. It’d be rude to reject such a generous offer.”

You bite back a scoff. As if he’s so gracious, breaking into your house and cornering you while you’re naked. Talk about audacity.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I have,” he shoots back, shrugging almost imperceptibly as his hands find your hips, tracing the fabric of your panties, eyes darkening at the way your mons dimples beneath his thumbs. “Won’t be as good as her.”

Your pulse spikes, a mix of anger and something darker curling in your chest. You should shove him away, scream at him to get out, but his hands are so warm when they hold you. The proximity of his body has you paralyzed, his hands still firm on your hips, as if to remind you that he can have his way with you at a moment’s notice.

You open your mouth to speak, but his hand moves higher, wrapping around your waist, while the other slides down to grip your ass, pulling you against him with a force that leaves no space between your bodies. The words die in your throat as your tits collide with his stomach and your cheek presses into his chest, the hard beat of his heart thudding beneath your ear, as he holds you there, pinning you in some weird, bone-crushing hug.

He smells like soap and something musky and everything you’d expect a fugitive to smell like, like cigarette ash and a smidge of gunpowder. It makes your pulse stutter, like a drug you didn’t know you were addicted to. You can’t help but melt into his strong frame despite your brain screaming at you to push him away.

“Y’feel that, sweetheart?” he hums, his hand kneading the fat of your ass, pressing his bulge against your pelvis through his sweatpants. “Ever felt a cock that big before?”

“Please,” you whisper, the plea a stark contrast to the defiance you try to muster. Your body trembles, a mix of fear and blistering heat. “Just... don't.”

He chuckles, a low, mocking sound. “Don't what, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his fingers rising from your ass to trace the delicate line of your throat. “Don't touch you? Don't remind you of what y’are?”

He tips your head up to his as you flinch at his words, the truth of them cutting deeper than any physical blow. “I…” you stammer, faltering as you meet his dark hazel eyes.

“Virgin,” he deadpans as he grips your chin between his digits, “Y’terrified. It's written all over your face, baby” He coos condescendingly, eyes scanning your body, lingering on the cute flush in your cheeks, “Curious, too, aren't you? Wondering what it would be like.”

You swallow hard, eyes flicking away from his. “No,” you lie, the denial weak and utterly unconvincing.

He lets out a low, exasperated grunt, like you’re testing his patience, like this is tedious for him. And then, without warning, his hands clamp around your thighs, lifting you effortlessly before settling you atop the dresser. His grip is firm as he pushes your legs apart, spreading them as far as they’ll go to make room for himself. The wood is cold against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him, from the rough drag of his palms as they find purchase on the soft flesh of your thighs, from where he dips his head to your throat.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, sweetheart,” You don’t know when he pulled his mask up, but you can feel his canines graze against your jugular, making you wince. He crowds your space, forcing you to tilt back until you’re leaning against the mirror, until there’s nowhere to go. You can feel his lips twitch against the skin of your neck, the ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“I can smell your cunt.” He licks a fat, hot stripe from your collarbone, past your jaw, and to your cheek, all before growling in your ear, “She’s droolin’ f’me, ain’t she? Gonna give me a taste o' her?”

Your eyebrows knit at the feel of his tongue slobbering all over you. Your breath hitches, and you can’t help but tremble. You can feel your panties sticking to your folds, but you’ve never been this wet before. “I... I don't know,” you whimpered, overwhelmed by everything he was making you feel.

“Don't know? Please,” he scoffs, his voice thick with disdain. Without any hesitation, both of his hands find the gusset of your panties, balling them before ripping them in half. You yelp as they fall and settle against the dresser top. ��Awh. Look at that,” he gets to his knees, thumbs spreading your glistening folds. “She's leakin’ onto my hand." He chuckles as he stares at the dampness between your legs.

He lunges forward, his mouth latching to your pussy like it promised him a million dollars. A strangled moan rips through you as his tongue swirls and plunges into your weeping hole, mimicking the thrusts he intends to deliver later. He laps and nips, teeth gently but fervently grazing your clit, sending shivers of both pleasure and terror through your body.

Your head jerks back, waves of pleasure that have you gasping for air. His tongue works you in ways that should be illegal. You cling to the edge of the dresser, your knuckles turning white as he buries his face in you. You peer down at him as he eats you, his mask pulled over his nose.

“Whinin’ already?” he growls, his voice muffled against your cunt. He sucks harder, reveling in the way you arch your back and press your hips into his face. “Like a bitch in heat.” Your hands find his head and he suckles at your clit harder, eliciting a string of please, please, please’s from you.

“Beg for it,” he commands, “Beg to come on m’tongue, baby.”

“Yes,” you choked out in a gasp, the word a desperate plea lost in a wave of overwhelming sensation. Your body thrums with frantic energy, every nerve ending firing in a symphony as you desperately claw at his balaclava, nearly smothering him. “Please,” you beg, your voice thick with need. “Please, I— ‘m—”

He pulls away from you, gasping for air. His eyes find yours and he lands a firm slap to your cunt, making you jolt. “Tell me,” he hisses. “Tell me y’want to come for me.”

“I... I want to,” you gasped, your body trembling on the verge of collapse. “I wanna come for you, Ghost— Please—.”

“Good fuckin’ whore,” he slaps your cunt again, before diving back in, his hot tongue carding through your folds. He slips his ring and middle finger into your hole and you wail as he massages your g-spot. He slobbers on your clit, wet squelches echoing through the room as you feel the coil tightening in your belly. “Come, let me taste this slutty fuckin’ pussy.”

A strangled cry rips through you as the pleasure reaches its peak, a blinding wave of sensation that absolutely shatters your control. You convulse around him and he has to hold you still, pinning your hips down as your muscles clench and release in a series of involuntary spasms that make up the best orgasm of your life. Hot, thick spurts of cum flood his mouth as you croak out a broken string of curses and moans.

He laps at you unhurriedly, savoring the taste, the feel of your release coating his tongue. “Fuck,” he moans, his voice rough with satisfaction. He pulls back, lips and chin glistening, and looks up at you with a smirk. “Love you virgins. Come so easily.”

Heat surges up your neck, pooling in your cheeks—a traitorous flush of shame that only worsens when you try to press your legs together. You didn’t think it would affect you like this, didn’t think you’d feel a spark of something twisted at being called the most horrific of names.

Your gaze darts away from his, unable to withstand the weight of it. Your hands move on instinct, a feeble attempt to shield yourself, to reclaim some sense of control. “Stop staring,” you whisper, not used to having eyes on you. But even to your own ears, it sounds weak—like a plea rather than a command.

He chuckles, a low, mocking sound as he rises to his feet, pressing his massive bulge against your bare cunt. “Stop what? Admiring my handiwork?” He reaches out, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek before harshly squishing them between his index and thumb, your lips puckering. “Don't be shy, sweetheart. You should feel lucky. Could’ve ruined this pretty fuckin’ mouth instead.”

You bite your lip at the thought of taking him in your mouth, stretching your throat and making you gag. He was so big, would stretch your pussy so good and you know it. He could give you what you’ve been wanting, what you’ve been needing. Tears prickle your eyes as you recover from your orgasm. “Just... fuck me, Please…?” you hum, unsure..

He grins, briefly flashing his teeth in the dim light. “Eager, are we?” He straightens, pulling you by your knees to stand on your feet. “Don't worry. Got more in store for you.”

He hauls you off of your dresser and toward your bed without much effort. Your legs feel like jelly and you trip over yourself, falling back onto the mattress, your body bouncing with the impact. He chuckles as he moves toward you, looming over you, his eyes burning with lust at the sight of you all spread out beneath him.

He reaches for the hem of his wife beater and pulls it over his head, tossing it aside without care, not bothering to take off his balaclava. You drag your gaze over his broad torso, taking in every inch as he stands before you. His muscles shift beneath scarred skin, every ridge and plane carved by years of violence you can’t even begin to imagine. Scars that have scars, bright pink wounds closed over. His dog tags rest between his pecs, gleaming dully against the heat of him.

Your eyes trail lower, catching on the unmistakable wet patch darkening his sweatpants, a frighteningly long outline of his hard cock to accompany it. He watches you closely as your gaze traces the contours of his body, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Like what you see, Girl?" His voice is low, thick with a dark amusement. It’s rhetorical, he knows you do. Without breaking eye contact, he slides his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls them down, revealing his length with a singular motion.

No underwear. A Right dog, he is.

Your breath hitches, a gasp trapped in your throat as you take in the full view. His cock is thick and heavy. A brutal, veined length that periodically twitches every time his gaze drops to your sodden cunt. A thatch of dark, dirty blonde hair frames its base, leading up to his navel. The uncircumcised head glistens in the lamplight, a single drop of pre drooling from his tip. You wish you could flick your tongue against it, gulping down every ounce of his slick he’d be willing to let you swallow.

“What’d y’want?”

You can't form the words, your mind blank, throat tight with a mix of fear and anticipation, the air heavy with implicit tension and the scent of sex.

How could he even fit inside of you?

You just dumbly nod in response to whatever he said. Meek, almost imperceptible.

He tuts, “Noddin’ ain’t enough, sweets,” he growled. “You’re a big girl, ain’t you?

“I…” you stammer, your cheeks burning with shame at saying something so lewd out loud. “I want…”

“Say it,” he taunts as he takes his cock in his hands, pumping slowly. His voice is like thunder, a low, dangerous rumble. “Say y’want this cock.”

“I... I want your cock,” you whisper, the words barely audible. You’re too focused on the way his pre drips onto your spread pussy.

“Louder,” he demands, landing a firm slap against your clit. “Can't hear you.”

“I want your cock,” you enunciated, your voice a little stronger this time.

“Louder, y’fuckin’ slag—”

“I want your fucking cock!” you shout, the words echoing through the room.

He shrugs and a satisfied smirk spreads across his face. “Geez, all y’had to do was ask.”

You could slap him.

He positions himself between your legs, the bed dipping as he crawls closer to you. He takes your thighs in his hands, pressing them up to your chest. His knees dimple the duvet on either side of your hips, the ruddy head of his cock tracing the puffy folds of your entrance. Each time his tip grazes your clit, a tremor runs through your body.

“So fuckin’ sensitive,” he groans, “So wet f’me, too, Christ.”

He presses forward, your pussy stretching taut over his mushroomed tip. You wince, your eyebrows knitting in pain. He was huge, impossibly thick, and the feeling of him pushing against your sensitive flesh was both terrifying and exhilarating.

“Gonna split this cunny in half, girl,” he winces as you pulse around him. He draws tight circles on your clit and you’re reeling, choking on your own gasps, “gonna feel me in y’fuckin’ throat.”

He pushes himself deeper, inch by agonizing inch until he sheaths himself inside of you completely. Tears stream down your face, a mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming you. You cry out at the stretch, your body arching into his as your hands search for anything to steady yourself, settling on the hard plains of his back.

“Jesus baby, so tight,” he grunts, stalled inside of you as he tries not to blow his load. “So fucking tight.”

You slowly loosen around him as you adapt to his size, but the burn still has you lightheaded. You've never been so full in your life. Your nails claw into his back, leaving raw streaks and crescent-shaped marks on his scarred skin. “Fuck me,” you rasp, “Please, Ghost, fuck me.” Your hips buck involuntarily as you babble, desperate for more of him.

He chuckles a low, guttural sound that you swear you can feel vibrating through your body. “Cock-drunk already, are we?” he taunts, “Fuckin’ whore,” He pulls back slightly before plunging forward with renewed force, cramming his cock against your cervix, hitting places you couldn’t even reach with your own fingers.

He was right. You could feel him everywhere, stretching you, filling you, owning you, utterly consuming you. Every thrust punched the air out of you, the rhythmic plap, plap, plap of his thighs meeting yours reverberating through the room as he fucked you.

“Fuck me harder, I need you— please—” You were so close already, worked up from your last orgasm and already teetering on the edge of another, the pleasure building each time the head of his cock strokes your g-spot. He picks up the pace with a groan and hammers into you, unable to breathe as his cock stretches you to your limits.

“Ghost,” you sob, fat tears falling from your eyes, wetting your cheeks before you can stop them. His name escapes your lips through hiccups, unable to think of anything except how full you feel, how you could’ve possibly missed out on this for so long.

He slaps your cheek, the sting is a sudden shock that jolts you back to the present. “Stop fuckin’ callin’ me that,” he snarls, his voice thick with pure sex and an edge of possessiveness, just lurking beneath his words. He leans directly over you, your legs pinned between his torso and yours. He groans before shrugging up his balaclava and licking your stray tears. You’re too deep in it to fully process, too consumed by the heat of the moment to care.

“Call me Simon when I fuck you,” he rasps against your lips,

“Say it.”

“S—Sim—on,” you mewl, your voice punctuated by each of his thrusts. “S—simon, p—ple—ase…”

“Please what?” he snarls, the head of his cock devastatingly rubbing your g-spot with each thrust, “Please fuck you harder? Please make you cream all over this cock?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you wail, your body writhing beneath him. “Please, Simon— Fuck!”

“Atta fuckin’ girl,” he praises through gritted teeth, and with renewed vigor, he fucks you harder, caging you in as he fucks you into the mattress, each stroke shoving you farther up the bed.

“Squeezin’ me so tight,” he rasps, “So fucking tight.” he gripped your thighs harder, the fat dimpling beneath his fingers, surely to bruise in the morning. He presses you further, painfully folded in half. “Feel me? Feel how deep I am inside o’ you?”

You gasp, your body trembling, heat pooling low in your belly, sparks shooting up your spine, “Yes,” you breathed, your voice a strained whisper. “Too much... it's so much, Si—”

You’re on the edge, pressure just building and tightening as your walls pulse around him, ready to milk him for all he’s worth. His hips stutter and he knows he’s done for. “Fuck, let go, Let it happen, pet,”

At his command, a raw, guttural cry tears from your throat, and a shattered echo of his name launches into the humid air. It isn’t much of a word, not really, but a primal sound, a desperate, broken exclamation born from the white-hot core of your pleasure.

Your back arches, lifting you off the bed, your spine a rigid curve against his. Your hips buck wildly against his, grinding and shuddering. The hot, slick rush of your release coats his cock. It spreads across his abdomen and your thighs as well, a glistening sheen in the dim light. Your breath hitches and ragged gasps escape your lips as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

The world narrows, focusing solely on the feel of his skin on your own as he still thrusts into you, telling you to “Cream this fuckin’ cock,” as he groans, just as lost in the pleasure as you. The aftershocks of your orgasm reverberate through you, leaving you trembling and weak as he fucks you through it to reach his own.

A series of breathy moans escape his lips in tandem with yours, each one a ragged exhale as his hips begin to twitch, thrusts growing sloppy as you pulse around him, energy rippling through his muscles as his own orgasm approaches.

“Oh-,” he breathes, his voice a low, jagged rasp, a guttural urging. “Fuck! Fuck— Shit, just like that, girl.” His hips slam against yours, a final, desperate thrust that presses him flush against your cunt. He spills inside you, a hot, thick tide of his cum flooding your cunt. Ropes of his seed paint your inner walls, as far as he can reach, marking you as his. A wave of heat pulses through you, the feeling of him filling you completely, claiming you from the inside out.

Eventually, the tremors die down, and he rolls off you, the sudden absence of his weight pinning you down leaving you feeling strangely hollow. Your thighs fall limply as he lets go of them, a strange ache that almost bothers you.

A low chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound of contentment.

“Broken little bird aren’t you?” he drawls..

You lift your head to see him eye-level with your pussy, watching as his cum leaks out of you. You lay still, your body aching, your mind spinning. You want to protest, to deny his words and shut your legs, but you don’t think you could form a genuine sentence if you tried.

Not only did you (finally) lose your virginity, but you lost it to a criminal. That broke into your house.

He moves to sit next to your laid figure and reaches out, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of your jaw, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Don't look so glum, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice softening slightly. “You did well,”

“for a first-timer.”

A blush creeps up your neck, and you instinctively turn your face away, curling into yourself. “Shut up,” you mutter, your voice hoarse.

He lets out a low, husky chuckle. “Oh, usin’ fightin’ words now, are we?” His fingers find a stray strand of your hair, twisting it lazily between calloused fingertips. “Funny, didn’t see you puttin’ up much of a fight five minutes ag—”

You don’t let him finish. Grabbing a tousled pillow, you launch it at his face. It bounces off his head with a pathetic little thump. He snorts, catching it mid-air, the plush looking comically small in his massive hands.

“Oh, we’re throwin’ shit now?” He smirks, squeezing the poor thing for emphasis. “Little minx—”

The sudden blare of the doorbell slices through the moment. You both freeze.

His eyes flick toward the door, sharp and assessing, mood immediately changing. “You expectin’ anyone?”

You shake your head. “No.”

His jaw tightens. The weight of reality comes crashing back. He’s a fugitive, and did, in fact, break into your house.

“I’ll get it,” you hum, already moving.

He gives a slow nod, hungrily watching as you rummage through your dresser for something decent. You yank an oversized T-shirt over your head and grab the first pair of pants you can find, his sweats. They nearly slide right off your hips, the waistband hanging dangerously loose, but there’s no time to fix it.

You leave the bedroom, your pulse drumming in your ears as you make your way to the front door. The second you pull it open, your stomach drops.

Two cops.

Their faces are unreadable, their eyes scanning you, the dim space behind you, everything. “Evening, miss. Sorry to bother you, but we’re making the rounds,” one of them says, flashing a tight-lipped smile. “You seen anything suspicious? Anything out of the ordinary?”

Your fingers tighten around the doorframe. You think of Simon. His hands on your waist, the weight of him between your legs, the low rasp of his voice still ringing in your ears. But you swallow hard and shake your head.

“No, nothing,” you say, keeping your voice light, casual. “Why?”

The other officer exhales sharply, shifting his weight. “ Highly dangerous man on the loose. Escaped with the rest of those arseholes from Belmarsh. Last spotted in this area.” His gaze flicks past you again, scanning the dreary interior of your flat. “Figured we’d check in, see if anyone’s seen him.”

You school your face into something neutral, shaking your head again. “Haven’t seen anything lately, sorry to disappoint.”

They watch you for a second too long. You wonder if they can hear your heartbeat slamming against your ribs. But finally, they nod.

“All right. Just be careful, ma’am. Lock your doors.”

“Will do,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile of your own.

You shut the door.

Your heart is pounding. You press your back against the timber, exhaling sharply before pushing off and heading back to the bedroom.

“Simon—” you call, nudging the door open.

The bed is empty, sheets tangled, the ghost of his warmth already fading. The curtains billow, the night air slithering in, laced with the scent of him—sex, sweat, something else that’s so distinctly him.

He’s gone.

But ghosts always return to their haunt.

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phantomsies · 5 months ago

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𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 • 𝖆.𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙

your biggest fan soon becomes your biggest obsession….

black onlyfans creator!reader (fem descriptions), nerdy!armin, public sex/public masturbation, squirting, mentions of toys, exhibitionism, throatfucking, cumshot

📝: I wanted to go a completely different direction with this but a) it’s no longer kinktober and it would’ve much better suited that and b) nerd!armin just scratches an itch in my brain I can’t quite put my finger on. So enjoy! 🫶🏾 (also, I AM SO SORRY THIS SHIT IS SO LONG 😭😭 I don’t intend on headcanons being this length but I can’t shut the fuck up.)

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

nerd!armin had been a dutiful subscriber of (y/n) (l/n)’s or as the world knew you, (performer name) for quite some time. He’d faithfully watched your content, never missing an upload to your sites and shamelessly scrolling your Twitter.

nerd!armin preferred your videos over others because they were so unique. Always willing to push the envelope by shooting in unconventional spaces; your car, public bathrooms and even dressing rooms..a polar opposite to his shy, bashful nature. In a way, he was jealous but also aroused..

from your long acrylics, fluffy lashes, colorful hair that changed from video to video and of course, the beautiful, dark brown complexion that radiated underneath the sun or ring lights, nerd!armin was obsessed.

nerd!armin would lie in bed after a long study session, classes or even a hard day at work..mindlessly stroking his cock in one hand as he held his phone in the other, eyes glued to the screen whilst you performed those lewd acts.

shoving those dildos in and out of your tight cunt, those pretty pink walls and plump brown lips sucking on that silicone toy..stretching yourself open all for his pleasure. A jeweled butt plug shoved into your ass and cream oozing down onto that gorgeous skin and the leather of your seats as you worked yourself into countless orgasms..mewling and begging for the would be viewer to keep fucking you..

“Fuck, I’m about to come, daddy..you’re gonna make me squirt.” Crying out as nerd!armin jerked himself even faster..subconsciously responding back without a single other person being in the room. ”Squirt for me, baby. Come..” Whimpering before exploding with a load of his own..

despite only being an intern, nerd!armin was well off from his freelancing tech work and although it didn’t leave him much room for socializing, he would tip you amicably on all the new content, as well as leave kind, respectful, encouraging words. It wasn’t something you saw often in this field.

it also didn’t take nerd!armin long to realize that you never featured a partner in any of your content like some girls eventually did. Only the various assortment of toys gifted to you by supporters. Which only further fed his delusions when you made a mess and glared into the camera, batting those doe brown eyes before saying “..look at what you made me do..that big dick feels so good..”

nerd!armin, who had only been with one woman sexually in his entire life and didn’t date often, could only dream of being with a girl like you.

so it came as no surprise when you announced that you would be opening a contest to film with one of your subscribers for the first time, nerd!armin leaped at the chance! The thought of getting to fuck the woman he’d hopelessly fawned over excited him.

nerd!armin nearly fainted when he got a DM on OnlyFans one day to see that he had won, asking when he’d like to arrange the meetup.

nerd!armin was understandably nervous on the day you two came face to face..but felt as ease when you continuously reassured him and even made sure that both of you had been tested, as well as protection.

“You’re so cute..it’s nice to finally meet you. Thank you for supporting me..” your gentle voice sent a shockwave of butterflies soaring through nerd!armin’s stomach as you wrapped him in a tight hug…and of course, a tightening in his pants upon laying eyes on his favorite creator. But that was merely the beginning.

nerd!armin found himself blushing when you slowly traced circles all over his skin, examining the single tattoo on his forearm and complimenting the smell of his cologne as the two of you sat alone in the bedroom of the designated filming space of your spacious home. Impressed by the bookshelves full of old literature he passed on the way in.

“Mmmm..you’re nervous, aren’t you?” “…I guess you could say that.” “Well don’t be, I’m going to make sure we have a good time, I promise..”

nerd!armin had no idea just how true you were to your word when less than ten minutes after the camera came on, you were on your knees, tongue extended and a wide smile on your face as he towered over you.

nerd!armin could hardly contain himself when eventually, those glossy brims were now encompassed around his cock. Slurping noises emanating around the room, along with his adorable cries…sloppy drool and gag spit spilling from that wet mouth and onto the pulsating head, shaft and those swollen balls. Disregarding the fact that your pretty face had become a disheveled mess.

“Oh my God…that feels so good, beautiful. Your mouth feels fucking amazing..” “You wanna come for me, baby?” “..yes! Drain me, please..” pathetically pleading whilst relentlessly fucking your throat.

nerd!armin unabashedly spent days, practicing his stroke on a translucent flesh light, feeding it deep thrusts and stuffing it with an ungodly amount of cum, examining your videos like study material..in hopes of gaining some stamina against you.

but nothing could prepare nerd!armin for the sheer sensation that being inside of you brought upon him.. however, he wasn’t the only one caught off guard..especially when he’d gently tug your head down and force you to watch as he glided into that narrow hole.. a move he’d learn from his tapes.

“It’s so big..damn..” “I told you..” giggling to yourselves as your gazes met and he’d begin to move.

nerd!armin almost felt compelled to believe that you were faking your moans like other pornstars so often did…but that misconception was cleared up when your eyes began to trail back, legs began to tremble and a slight bulge formed at the very bottom of your stomach.

“Yes, you stretching the fuck out of this pussy, baby..right there!..” “Am-am I doing a good job?” “You fucking me so good, please don’t stop.”

nerd!armin nearly lost all composure when you all but pushed him away, only to shower him in a stream of your juices. Only increasing as he tapped that swollen tip against your quivering folds.

nerd!armin didn’t last more than five minutes after that powerful climax and began dry heaving as his own neared. Ushering you back to your knees to paint those pretty features and tits with his load.

nerd!armin was convinced that once the cameras shut off, you’d put him out for nutting too quickly. Surely a woman of your caliber would never deal with that again. But yet again, he was proven wrong when you smiled up at him, flicking your tongue across your lips before posing a question. “So..where should we should film next time? We gotta do this more often..”

nerd!armin had found himself the newest and sole object of (creator’s name) affection!

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bunnis-monsters · 11 months ago

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NSFW

Yandere!Vampire that was once royalty, living in a dilapidated castle, alone and depressed. As a human, he was surrounded by people. Everyone adored him, his golden curls and warm brown eyes charming the hearts of every noble that set eyes on him.

That was until his family was slaughtered by a coven of vampires, leaving him the only survivor. Now with no family, he was turned away from the nobles that once gathered at his side, calling him beautiful and intelligent. Now he was a beast, and was only left alive because no one dared to touch him.

As the years passed by, all that knew of his existence died out, meaning no one remembered or cared for him. In the past, he had at least been grateful he had been in someone’s thoughts, even if it was in a negative light. Now, no one even hated him. He was just nonexistent to the world outside his castle.

Centuries passed by, every day slowly picking at the last bits of his sanity. Days of past grandeur and the current day mixed together, leaving him in a state where he couldn’t tell whether he was back in the living arms of his family, or wandering the dark, crumbling hallways of his childhood home.

It was only when a soft, warm light flooded one of the abandoned rooms he had been standing in that the fog in his brain began to fade, allowing him to see what was in front of him for the first time in decades.

It was you, a young woman in a hoodie and jeans, holding a flashlight. You lived only a mile away, and had been exploring when you came upon ruins of what seemed like an ancient castle.

You had heard rumors of a person that wandered the ruins from the townsfolk, and old tales of vampires that had been passed down by tongue for centuries. Not believing them, you decided to see for yourself…

Your light shone upon what you first thought was an ethereal ghost or some kind of beautiful spirit. A man with a mop of blonde curls, porcelain skin, and the most beautiful pair of ruby red eyes you’ve ever seen stared back at you.

The person attempted to speak, but clutched his throat, as if he hadn’t spoken in so long, his vocal cords had forgotten how.

“H-hello?”

The man perked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes clearing up. It seemed just hearing another human speak made his undead heart leap, and he couldn’t help but stumble towards you.

You yelped when he crossed the room within seconds and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply.

The smell of another person, of sweat and perfume mixing together to make your own unique scent made him want to sob.

Of course you were freaked out, but the man holding onto you wasn’t hurting you, and you could feel warm tears soaking through your shirt. How could you turn away someone that was obviously in distress?

Unsurprisingly, the man followed you home. It didn’t take a genius to realize he wasn’t human. He was as pale as a sheet of paper, with no pulse or any color to his cheeks. His eyes were scarlet, a shade you had never seen a human have before.

Despite knowing this, you couldn’t help but care for him. He was thin, malnourished, with clothing that was so old and dirty that it nearly crumbled when he took them off.

“Are you hungry?”

You had taken to asking only yes or no questions, since he couldn’t speak. The man frowned, his eyes getting foggy for a second. You decided to ask again.

“Hello? Are you-“

He suddenly snapped back into reality, leaning forward to gently place his lips on your neck. You squeaked out in surprise when you felt his teeth sink into your neck… but it didn’t hurt. Instead, you only felt an uncomfortable pressure and draining sensation, and before long he was pulling back.

“Mmph…” he panted softly, blood running down his chin. “Was… so… thirsty…” he managed to say, his voice hoarse and small.

He cupped your cheek, holding your face in his hands and looking down at you with what could only be described as utter adoration.

“My love…”

From that point on, he was attached to your hip, following you everywhere you went like a lovesick puppy. Any time you were separated, he had severe anxiety, going back and forth from his dreamworld and reality. It was his coping mechanism, but it caused him to never understand what was real and what wasn’t.

You grounded him, made him feel safe and loved. Oh how he adored you. You had saved him from his lonely existence and taken him into your home as if he were a stray dog, and he was loyal like one. His loyalty came at a price, however, and that price was your freedom to do as you pleased.

Late nights out with friends became next to nonexistent, especially if he knew there would be any males there.

“I just want to protect you, my beloved. It’s a dangerous, cruel world. People will act as if they love you when they do not…”

And as you slowly became more and more isolated, his affections only grew. Kisses to your hand began to trail up your arm and to your neck. Snuggles turned into grinding and heavy petting, and even the most innocent of caresses became lewd in nature.

It didn’t take long for him to fuck you for the first time. After all, he had been pent up and alone for centuries, resisting taking you on the spot was excruciating.

The second he sunk into your pussy, he came. You were just so warm and your scent made his head fuzzy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you like a wild animal, feeding from your pretty neck as he filled you up over and over.

After the first time, a day didn’t pass by when he didn’t crave your intimate touch. Some days he was satisfied with heavy petting and kisses, others he couldn’t be satiated until his face was between your legs, lapping at your cunt for hours.

You were his, his mate, his lover. He couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore, so could you really blame him when he clung to you so tightly?

He just loved you, and he did such a good job at keeping you satisfied, just enough to where you didn’t look into the missing cases of your old lovers and male friends.

Why would you need to pay attention to any of that when your loving, attentive boyfriend was right there, ready to worship you from head to toe?

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vivitalks · 28 days ago

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can't stop thinking about brennan saying "i'm going to describe something very heartbreaking now." how often does he break the kayfabe just to warn one of the players about the next thing he's going to say?? so much tragedy in dimension 20 but it's here, this moment, that is devastating enough that brennan takes a moment to give a warning: i'm going to describe something very heartbreaking now.

adaine abernant grew up lonely and abused in the shadow of a cruel, perfect aelwyn who could do no wrong. adaine didn't even want to find aelwyn, and every step their adventure took in her direction was a step adaine asterisked with a loud proclamation that she hated her bitch sister and didn't care about finding her. and only after discovering that aelwyn had been a months-long prisoner, tortured at her parents' hands, only after hearing a destroyed aelwyn apologize, does adaine consider that maybe aelwyn was a victim, too. and she overcomes her childhood resentment. she sees the bigger picture. she rescues her sister. she protects her as they sleep, and aelwyn's magic protects them in return. it is, maybe, the first time adaine truly feels that she has an older sister. and there's hope now. aelwyn has been broken down, but also redeemed, and they're together now, and adaine can help her, and they can be a family, because people aren't perfect, but aelwyn said she's sorry. and adaine goes into her mind and sees all the self-loathing she never knew about, and even more than that the fear of their parents, and she understands aelwyn so perfectly in this moment, all bitterness and spite dissolved, just a young woman taking a leap of faith and being rewarded with family, finally, a sister she never got to have, who actually loves her and believes in her and wants to keep her safe.

and then aelwyn's memory resets.

and in an instant, adaine loses everything she never knew she could have.

pretty heartbreaking.

#so many adaine thoughts these days huh #stuff #draftposting at 8:47am because im craaaazy dude im fuckin CRAAAZYYYY #d20 #dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high sophomore year #fhsy #adaine abernant #aelwyn abernant #the radio in the lyft im in is playing the Up music #im very sensitive to sister stuff in fiction and media in general so you can imagine im super normal about adaine and aelwyn #if i dont post tgis now ill never post it

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logaenhowlett · 5 months ago

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SOMETHING HAPPENS AND I'M HEAD OVER HEELS - L.H.

Summary: What starts off as a simple favour to watch Laura’s cat sends Logan into a spiral as you continue to make your way into his life.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff - Logan is 100% whipped, Wade

A/N: 4.4k - my longest fic yet! Worst!Logan has my entire soul, I'd give anything just for that pretty smile. Title creds to Tears For Fears. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The familiar burn of whiskey stings the back of his throat. Logan rests his head against the couch, second-guessing his decision to babysit Laura's cat while she's enjoying her night out. Her tireless attempts of pestering him at last working in her favour so he can finally meet his 'copy-kitten' - her words.

A quick glance at the time reveals he should probably head out now. Logan rises, groaning as his muscles protest after weeks of just slumping around the apartment. Even Al had pointed out how lazy he'd become lately. And that unsolicited observation gave him half the mind to consider finding new roommates. But who was he kidding? As much as he also barely tolerated that one incredibly maddening little prick's incessant jibber-jabber, he wasn't going to find anything for what he's currently paying.

Soon enough, he weaves his way through the crowds, swerving past the shoulders of, frankly, one too many people absorbed by their devices to step aside for his large frame. Luckily, Laura's place isn't too far and he really appreciates that detail as the sound of thunder rumbles overhead. A faint ding emerges from his pocket and he retrieves his phone, reading the screen with a slight squint.

His boots soak the welcome mat as he fumbles with the door trim, locating the key according to Laura's text - making a mental note to remind her of personal safety later. Shivering, he shrugs the wet jacket off, tossing it over the armchair. His eyes dart around the room, looking for the damn cat, and for a moment, Logan wonders whether he's being pranked.

The pitter-patter of paws against the hardwood floor has him snapping his head to the little creature in question. The cat, or Leopold Alexis Elijah Walker Thomas Gareth Mountbatten - Leo, for short - he learns begrudgingly after Wade shoved pictures upon pictures to his face one particular day, stares at him with indifference.

Understanding the need to be left alone, Logan trudges towards the kitchen, swinging the fridge open. A small post-it stuck over a box of leftovers, reads "Knew you'd be hungry", has him scoffing, mildly amused that Laura had predicted his actions.

Minutes later, he sinks onto the couch, making brief eye contact with Leo, who's nonchalantly licking his paws. He's halfway through the bowl of pasta when the cat suddenly leaps onto the cushion next to him. Logan watches curiously, he's not terribly experienced around pets, hardly spending any time with Mary Puppins herself despite living under the same roof.

"Alright, here's the deal." He murmurs, "You stay outta my way and I stay outta yours."

Leo replies with a meow to which Logan nods, satisfied by the response. He hopes to god this cat has the same temperament as Dogpool and allows him to simply coexist till Laura returns. Intrigued by the smell, Leo slowly inches forward, gently nudging his head against the bowl.

"Don't think you can eat this, bub."

Leo seems to understand the implication and meows in defiance. With a sigh, Logan gingerly flexes his hand, stroking the cat's head. The act immediately has Leo purring in content, the desire to investigate the food long forgotten. And no one's there to witness the ghost of a smile that teases his lips.

The calm attitude only lasts an hour before Logan's biting back a string of profanities, frustrated by Leo's refusal to take his medication. He's thankful for his healing factor, for otherwise, he'd be covered in a litter of scars. How the hell Laura deals with this devil-of-a-cat is beyond comprehension.

There's no use in trying again. Leo clearly wants nothing to do with him or what he's hiding in his hand. The thought of seeking help crosses his mind, perhaps one of the neighbours is especially skilled in feeding pills to literal hellspawns. Logan tunes his hearing to the apartments on the floor. Old lady already asleep to her TV - no. A family of six attempting to eat dinner in peace - no. Two people about to - fuck no. Now he really wants a word with Laura about her living situation.

Just when he's about to give up, a recognisable melody reaches his ears - one he's unwilling heard Wade jam out to in the shower. This person swaying along to music seems far more approachable than anyone else in this building, and so he steps out, knocking on the apartment across from Laura's.

The door cracks open slightly, you peek your head out giving him a questioning look, “Um… hi? Can I help you?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you. But, uh… I’m watching Laura’s - your neighbour’s cat.” Embarrassment creeps into his cheeks as he points behind him, “He’s not takin’ his meds and uh do you… can you help me? Please?”

The look of absolute defeat paired with the remnants of red scratch marks on his arms has your heart clenching for this poor man, “Of course.”

When the door fully opens, Logan’s eyes widen reflexively at the state of your undress. There’s nothing evocative about it, yet he feels as though he’s intruding on an intimate side of you. One he’s definitely not privy to.

Your sheepish smile sends a wave of something indescribable through his body. He clears his throat, turning on his heel to lead you inside. Leo flicks his head up at the sound of footsteps, purring as if he hasn’t been driving Logan insane for the past hour.

You knew Laura had rescued the little guy a while ago, having run into her in the hallway the night she brought him home. Every interaction you’ve had presents him as the sweetest kitten in the world, so watching the distinct mark of dread on this stranger’s face has you stifling a laugh.

“What?” Logan asks, feeling a little self-conscious about the whole situation.

“Nothing. It’s just - Leo’s very friendly. Or at least, I thought so… what the hell did you do to piss him off?” You chuckle, kneeling a foot away.

“Piss him off? I was just tryin’ to give him the damn pills. Had no problem with me before that.” Logan’s fingers twitch as you approach the cat, wanting to protect you from the sharp claws the demon would surely attack you with.

Yet, to his astonishment, Leo innocently crawls into your outstretched arms. And Logan swears he saw a flicker of mockery come across the cat’s eyes as he peers at him, relishing your comforting embrace.

“See? He’s a sweetheart.”

The fondness in your tone almost has him believing your words. In no time, Leo’s fully cooperating with your gentle requests, happily taking the medication as if it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

Logan learns three things that night. One, your name. Two, that you have some innate ability to charm everyone around you - human or otherwise. Three, he absolutely couldn’t wait to see you again.

Logan tries to drain out the shouting match between his two roommates, ducking calmly as Al’s miscalculated spatula throw flies in his direction. Laura giggles next to him, entertained by the whole ordeal - Wade had accidentally left his cock ring plugged in the bathroom again, nearly short-circuiting the apartment.

“Hey! Kink shaming is very frowned upon, Althea.”

“You motherfucker! I almost got electrocuted by the toaster this morning!”

Logan grumbles to himself, knowing there’ll never be a quiet, normal day in this household. He turns to Laura, “Kid, you wanna grab some food later?”

“Can’t. I’m going out.”

He nods, not giving it a second thought. But as the memory of you flashes across his mind, he stops bouncing his leg, heart beating a little faster. It had been a whopping seven days since that interaction, yet every little detail has stuck with him since. In fact, he spent many hours pacing in his room planning some way to magically run into you.

“… What about the cat?” He asks, and when she raises her eyebrow, “Who’s watchin’ him?”

She replies with a shrug, “I’ll figure it out.”

The solution to his problem falls perfectly onto his lap. Oh, how his pulse quickens at the thought. And as if to not seem suspiciously enthusiastic, he pauses before speaking, “I can do it.”

“Why?”

“Better than this shit.”

Laura considers him for a moment then agrees casually - she knows exactly why he offered. You had bumped into her a couple of days ago, offhandedly mentioning meeting Logan that night as you recounted the details of your week. It took mere seconds to put two and two together and realise he was incredibly smitten.

Logan spends a good fifteen minutes messing with his hair. Fuck, did it always spike up like that? The one tiny mirror in his room supposedly taunting him with each look over. A low tsk breaks the flood of self-criticism as he slams the door shut behind him, roughly brushing past Wade.

"Ooh, is that cologne I smell or are you just horny to see me?"

His teasing spirit immediately drops when Logan shoots him a glare, precisely throwing Al's spatula straight at his crotch.

"God - not the home office, peanut! Jim and Pam need protection!"

The walk to Laura's seems a lot shorter this time, some sort of nervous, giddy energy surging through his chest with each step. Logan bites the insides of his cheeks, feeling childish by the stupid smile daring to grace his lips just at the sheer thought of you. He can't remember the last time someone had drawn these kind of emotions from him. A part of him wants to cower in fear of rejection and self-doubt, and other? Oh, it's got your name written all over.

As soon as he reaches the hallway, all his senses are directed to your apartment. Confused by the silence he finds instead, Logan strains his hearing harder than ever. Hm, it's barely seven-thirty, maybe you're not home yet? Disappointment twirls around his mind, he sighs before opening Laura's door, convincing himself it's probably for the better.

To his surprise, Leo behaves quite well this time around - eating his food, taking his medication, and sticking with minimal efforts to annoy him. The black and white movie he randomly chose keeps his thoughts from drifting to you for the most part, though he can't help but wonder where you are at - he checks his watch - 10:38 pm on a Thursday?

Whatever hope he held onto paints him a fool as time slips by. He couldn't blame you, you didn't owe him anything. Logan runs a hand down his face, and despite his wavering relationship with Leo, he's at least grateful for the cat's company on this rather lonely night.

"Was a dumb idea, huh?" He mumbles, gently scratching Leo's ear.

Not ten minutes later, the jingle of something hitting the floor has him sitting up, intrigued. Logan pads over to look through the peephole, his heart fluttering at the sight of you. It doesn't take a genius to note your drunken state with the way you're cursing and fumbling with the keys. His hand rests against the doorknob, a flash of hesitation creeping in. Do you even want to see him right now?

Before he can psych himself out, his instincts make the decision for him. Logan's unsure of how to announce his presence, wanting to avoid any chances of scaring you. In hindsight, that task should’ve been deemed impossible when you flinch suddenly anyway.

"Logan! Shit - did I wake you up?"

He chuckles at that and before he can even respond, you fire off another question, "Wait, what're you doing here?"

"Laura's out. I'm on babysitting duty." Leo purrs from somewhere behind him in confirmation. Logan watches as you nod slowly, the keys once again sliding from your grasp, "Here, let me help you."

The two of you reach down, fingertips barely grazing as he reacts faster than you. He realises he's much closer than he anticipated when your perfume crowds his senses. Logan buries the urge to meet your eyes deep, deep down, instead unlocking the door with a clenched jaw.

He's very appreciative of the fact that you're too out of it to observe his actions. He wanders into the kitchen to fetch some water, a laugh nearly spilling out of him as you collapse onto the couch, "Hey, easy."

"I'm not that drunk."

"I believe you." He lifts the glass to your lips, words ever so soft, "But... how about we get you to bed hm? Doesn't that sound better than this couch?" When you blink at him tiredly, Logan knows it's so over for him - every shred of denial he held within now shattered by your very hands.

"Okay... "

He maintains some distance, assuming you'd stubbornly dismiss his attempts to guide you to the bedroom. Leaning by the doorframe, he doesn't try to hide the fondness in his expression as you settle under the covers.

"Night, Logan."

He hears you murmur beneath the blanket. It's almost natural how quickly he replies as if you've had this exchange hundreds of times before, "Good night, sweetheart."

A groan leaves you as the sunlight eventually breaches the comfort of your dark room. Rubbing your eyes, you blindly reach for the bedside table, hoping to find your phone. Instead, your hand retrieves a piece of paper while knocking over a bottle of Advil that definitely wasn't there earlier.

'Not that drunk' my ass. - L

The party hat lays tilted on his head. Logan hooks his finger onto the string, momentarily stopping it from cutting into his chin. On any other occasion, he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing the stupid thing, but it was Laura's birthday and once she pulled out the dangerous puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse without being an asshole.

He's been leaning against the wall, thumb lightly tracing the rim of the beer bottle in his hand as he blankly stares around the room. Throughout the night, Logan's eyes impulsively shift in your direction, tuning into the conversations you're having with - what feels like - everyone but him.

Mary Puppins zooms by, stepping on his boots in the process. She must've caught a whiff of whatever Al's cooking. He bends down to pick up the stuffed Wolverine chew toy she dropped along the way, mildly concerned by the amount of slobber coating it.

"Nice hat."

Logan hears you chuckle behind him. He quickly turns around, tossing the toy somewhere far, far away before you could notice. And despite wishing all night for the opportunity to talk to you, he finds himself tongue-tied now that you're actually in front of him, awaiting his response with an amused expression. Get it together, dumbass.

"This thing? Well... it made the kid happy." He says, incapable of suppressing the smile that never fails to make an appearance whenever you're around.

The way your features soften releases a storm of arrows to his poor, old heart. Whatever anxiety he felt earlier increases tenfold, Logan takes a swig of his drink only to realise it's empty. With nothing to divert his energy to, he grips the bottle tighter, hoping the integrity of the glass is enough to withstand the force of his nerves.

"Thank you, by the way."

His eyebrows raise in confusion, "For what?"

"Few weeks ago. When I got home totally wasted." As your cheeks turn a little red at the memory, Logan wants to relive that moment over and over again.

"Oh... yeah." He huffs lightly, gaining a smidge of confidence from your flustered state. It gives him just enough courage to throw in a cheeky comment, "At your service."

He's mighty pleased when you giggle, biting his lip to control the proud smile aching to take over. Logan studies you briefly, and if he didn't know any better, you almost seemed nervous too? That possibility sends his mind reeling in excitement. Perhaps you also feel something here?

The shrieking sound of a party blower has him wincing, the plastic hits his cheek as Wade sneaks up right next to him with a wide grin, "Sugar bear! Don't mind me, I overheard you tell Yukio about your date tomorrow. Now, spill. Who is this mystery man and does he have a twin by any chance? Brother or sister - daddy's not picky."

Logan's initial reaction to harshly shove the man aside dies in an instant when you laugh rather bashfully at the question. He prays to god it's another one of Wade's fucking jokes. However, that hope flies out the window as you hesitantly ramble on about this guy. Excusing himself, he leaves the apartment, ripping the party hat off in agony - not witnessing the guilt eclipsing your emotions.

Droplets of sweat linger at the ends of his hair as he places the last of Laura's cardboard boxes on the floor of her new apartment. After weeks of mulling it over, she decided to move a little further away, complaining about how rent was becoming too crazy. Logan offered to support her financially till she was good on her own, yet she strongly refused just as he expected.

Since she was no longer your neighbour, the chances of running into you dwindled over time. He saw you in passing last month when he came over to help Laura with apartment hunting. The logical part of his brain convinced him to not stick around, desperately clinging to the idea that you're not interested. But catching your expression fall as he dismissed your presence nearly made him run back to wrangle you into his arms, to whisper apologies and beg for forgiveness.

After an especially tiring day, Logan returns home, crashing onto the couch with a sort of emptiness as he stares at the ceiling. Both his roommates are muttering in the corner, afraid to call out his incredibly irritable mood of late - instead, walking on eggshells whenever he's around. It seems that Wade loses the hushed argument, settling a good arm's length away from him.

"Peanut." He drags, slowly, "Al and I are... worried about you. As much as this brooding, tough guy act is really doing wonders for my sexual wellbeing, I just can't let you Debbie-Down-Pour all over this parade."

"The fuck you want me to do?"

"You need a one-way ticket to pound town-" He chirps, and when Logan grunts angrily, Wade shrieks, shielding himself from any incoming attacks, "Don't hurt me!"

The aroma of coffee tingles his senses as he takes an exaggerated sip, ignoring the need to continue such an aimless, one-sided conversation. Across the table is one of Vanessa's acquaintances, Karen or Kira - he can't remember - mindlessly explaining why her previous dates didn't work out. Logan forces a nod here and there, humming in pretend acknowledgement while he concocts some plan to seriously bash Wade's head against the nearest wall.

In all honesty, he didn't know how the hell that bastard persuaded him to entertain this woman for the night, making a note to check his alcohol for any suspicious substances later. What he did know was that this was going as terribly as he thought. And while he might be awfully rusty in terms of dating, Logan's certainly not oblivious to basic body language cues. Deciding twenty minutes of this torture is enough, she hastily rushes out the building and that's the last of Karen he ever sees.

The grocery bags feel like cinder blocks in your hands as you walk down the street. Mentally scolding yourself for postponing this chore till the last minute, you huff in exhaustion, adjusting your grip every few seconds. A woman nearly bumps into you on her way out, you stagger backwards, watching her storm off. Startled by her rashness, you turn to glance at where she came from, gasping when you spot a familiar face.

“Logan?”

He snaps up, recognising that particular voice - your name leaves his lips softly. Mixed emotions swirl around his mind, yet, he can't help the way his heart jumps as you fill his senses, “Wha - what’re you doin' here?”

“I was just passing by... saw you through the window.” Your gaze drops to the half-finished cup of coffee opposite him, “Were you on a date?”

“Uh Wade - he...” Logan stutters for a moment, dumbfounded that you're even talking to him after his childish behaviour the last few weeks. He nods lightly as the unmistakable bullet of regret pierces his insides.

“It’s her loss anyway.”

God, he wants to apologise so badly. Your friendly attitude only serves to make him feel worse, but Logan thanks his lucky stars that you don't hate him. He definitely wouldn't have been able to handle any sign of resentment on your part - no matter how much he deserves it.

“What’s with the eggs?”

You laugh, looking down at the several cartons peeking through your bags, “I’m stress-baking.”

He's so lost in your eyes that it takes him a second to register your reply, nose scrunching in amusement, “Stress-baking?”

“Yes, it’s a perfectly valid activity.”

That draws a chuckle out of him. He raises his hands in defense, “I ain’t judgin’, doll.”

A comfortable silence takes over and Logan realises just how happy he is to see you again - how much he's missed you all this time. He opens his mouth to spill something out of pure impulse when you beat him to the punch.

“Why don’t you join me?”

It doesn't take much convincing and he's already fallen into a steady pace as you walk together - his fingers effortlessly hooking onto all the grocery bags. His chest threatens to explode when you lean towards him, moving aside for people brushing by. Logan wills his entire strength to not drape his arm across your shoulders in an effort to keep you safe.

Time becomes irrelevant when you're around. The frequency of his own laughter shocks him at first, but he's not really thrown off by the joy you bring out of him because - well, of course, you do. It's safe to say that Logan can't bake to save his life, though he doesn't mind this particular weakness as you giggle at his dreadful attempts to mix the cookie dough. Shamelessly, he watches you come closer, breaking into a tangent about proper kneading techniques - if you ask him to repeat any of it, he'd be stumbling over his words like a fool.

Eventually, he makes something that somewhat resembles your example. He dips his finger into the dough and lifts a small piece in your direction, "How's this?"

When you gently grasp his hand to lick the sweet mixture straight off, he thinks he's trapped in some wild daydream. Logan stares at you in surprise, cheeks turning into a telltale shade of red. Your hums of approval fall onto deaf ears as he remains frozen, wondering how you're so quick to move on from that bold gesture.

Every little thing you do stains his mind - from the way you dance around to soft music playing in the background, the way you focus all your attention on him whenever he speaks, even the way you warn him about the oven as if he could get burned.

His expression must've turned serious by how you suddenly pause, peering at him in concern. Bearing a rush of emotions, the words pour out of his mouth without hesitation, "I am so sorry."

"I was an idiot and I... avoided you 'cause I couldn't deal with these damn feelings-"

He stops.

He's revealed way too much. And judging by your face, that was definitely a mistake. Logan shuts his mouth, jaw hardening as he fights something heavy crawling up his throat. His eyes land on the door and all he wants is to escape from this shrinking room.

A whisper of his name fractures the glass cage he's built up around his heart. His boots seem to be cemented to the floor, unwilling to break free even as you still in front of him - a mere breath away. Your hands rest against his cheeks, slowly turning his head so he's compelled to meet your tender gaze.

Not a single sound slips out of him before your lips are on his. His heart pounds in his chest, burning at sensation. Logan leans into the kiss, hands settling on your waist, holding you as close as he can. Relief washes over him, he tilts his head slightly to deepen his movements - his breath nearly giving out when you whimper softly.

The loud ding from the oven has you pulling back with a faint chuckle. Logan smiles too, letting out a sigh as he lays his forehead against your shoulder. He presses his lips to your collarbone, whispering against your skin, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"The cookies... or us?"

He gently pokes your side at that comment, mirroring your dazed look. Between the quiet exchanges of laughter, he knows exactly what this means - what you mean to each other.

His muscles feel looser with each stride, embracing the breeze tangling with the warmth pooling inside from your touch moments ago. Logan makes his way home with a kind of ease he hasn't felt in forever, chewing on a cookie you insisted he taste.

As he walks through the door, Wade rests his chin on his hands, “So… how did it go? I see you’re enjoying the post-bang baked goods.”

Logan rolls his eyes, not wanting his mood to be spoiled. He grumbles under his breath, your name accidentally slipping out.

"You ran into angel-reincarnate?" Wade gasps, "Oh. Finally putting that horse cock to good use." Clapping excitedly, he follows after Logan, "Wait a second, this fic is tagged fluff. There'll be no fucking on my watch, partner!"

Logan slams the door to his bedroom behind him, blocking out Wade's muffled chattering.

"She had you cosplay as Paul Hollywood all night? Goodness! The power she possesses. I must gain all her secrets."

"Fuck off."

Wade grins to himself, quickly pulling his phone out to shoot off a text.

Wade: Project-Wolvie-Gets-Pussy is a go!

Laura: We are NOT calling it that.

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simp4fictionalmenandjesus · 3 months ago

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Yandere platonic batfamily with a ‘definition of average reader.’

You’ve always been a low-key background character type person. Your grades were normal, every report card since you started getting report cards are all filled with B’s. At school, you’re not popular or unpopular. You have a close group of friends, and know a few people from outside of school. You play a sport, but don’t exceed at it.

The only thing that wasn’t average about you was your family.

Gotham’s sweetheart, Bruce Wayne, adopted you when you were 12 for IDK WHAT REASON HE JUST DID OKAY?????? Anyways. You were the normal amount of awkward that a 12 year old is in the face of their new family.

At your first official family dinner you sat between your older brother Dick and older sister Cass. (Yes, Alfred did strategically plan the seating so the most amicable people would be next to you.) Dick Ames you about school, your friends, your hobbies and all that jazz.

Now, you’d think a table full of vigilantes who have faced off against Gods, traveled the universe, made leaps of technology, and regularly interact with aliens and creatures of myth would be a bit bored when hearing about your math class and a new tv show you were watching. However, the fact that you’re biggest life problems was learning algebra made you seem somewhat precious in their eyes.

So they listen, and they watch, and they become more invested in your life, then, in you.

When Dick’s in town he picks you up from school and brings you to get a sweet treat while asking you about your school day. Unfortunately for the vigilante, he’s not stationed in Gotham so he’ll have to settle for face time calls. Sometimes it’s surprising how much he remembers from your past rambles. You swear he lost have a recording device in his brain, when you bring thay up to him, he laughs, ruffles your hair and glances at the tiny scar behind your ear.

Jason, on the other hand, insists on taking you out for outings, thought he always insists that you plan them. He asks you to bring him to your favourite places and you always comply, taking him to the street food stand where you go with your friends to buy snacks after school, or the manor’s own gardens where Jason will carry you on his shoulders to get a closer look at whatever caught your eyes in a tree. And sure, it’s kind of weird that he already knows the most efficient way to drive to those places before asking you, but he told you he just knew Gotham well.

The brother you see least is Tim seeing as he spends a lot of his time at the office or his own apartment and doesn’t particularly like going on outings much. However, you do text Tim the most. Updating him on random things as he does the same. It is a bit surprising when he texts you to stop picking your fingers in class, but when you ask him how he knows, he’ll claim it’s his sixth sense.

The brother you see most is Damian. Though he’s the one you talk to least. It’s kind of like he’s a shadow following you around. When you start attending Gotham Academy, he’ll sit with you every lunch time just listening to you talk. At the Manor, he’ll let you study in his room while he does art. All the conversations you have with him are mostly one sided with only slight nods to indicate he’s listening. When you ask why he doesn’t talk much he says that he isn’t use to saying nice things to siblings. You (correctly) assume that he doesn’t have friends and treat him extra kindly, sure, you haven’t been able to hangout with your friends at the academy lately but Damian’s family, so he gets priority, right?

Bruce isn’t too sure on how to raise you. When he suggested to his sons that they should tell you about them being vigilantes, all four refused. So, for once, the Batman didn’t really know what to do. Sure, the hundreds of parenting books he read placed emphasise on boundaries and not invading his kids privacy, but in a place like Gotham, Bruce had to be much more hands on. He has a tracker on ALL his kids, so what’s the harm of having one on you? He’s just a worried father.

The family’s yandere-ness boils over after Gotham Academy gets invaded by a group of thugs. Damian stays by you the whole time while the rest of your family, in costume, easily dispose of the thugs. You really didn’t get harmed at all, so when Bruce pulls you out of school you’re a bit shocked. Even if you can understand his worries, you explain to Bruce that you were okay and school was important to you. The conversation ends with an argument.

See, the thing with the bats is that they’re not normal at all. So the arguments that the family is used to ends with bloodshed or leaving the country. They don’t want you to hurt you but they also really don’t want you to try leaving.

The manor has a lot of stairs. Even thought Alfred can clean every corner of the manor perfectly, he won’t always know when there’s a mess. It’s rainy season as well, Titus likes rolling around in the puddles outside. So a wet trail on the stairs isn’t too absurd. Plus, it’s early in the morning, you’re a bit groggy. So when you tumbled down the stairs and break your leg, it’s not too crazy of a situation.

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Posting for now but might rewrite i was tweaking when I wrote this late at night, i confused myself and I def lost the plot a lil oops

#yandere batfam #yandere platonic batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere dc #yandere platonic batfamily #yandere batfamily

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whytheylosttheirminds · 3 months ago

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home for the holidays (part two) - r.c.

❄�� a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️ (part one here!)

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

(taglist for this series is closed. please see author's notes at the end of the chapter for important info about the taglist!)

Somewhere between his house and yours it dawned on Rafe, much to his annoyance, that he had a big, stupid crush on you.

He tried everything to suppress it. He reminded himself that you didn't like him, that you probably thought you were better than him. He reminded himself how stupid it’d be to get attached to someone only a few months before graduation.

Jesus, really man? He thought. She’s not your type, Rafe. She hates you. Be a fucking man and pull it together.

But it was the way you were perched in the driver’s seat, scooted all the way forward leaving no room between you and the wheel, smiling as you sang along to Mariah Carey. You looked so soft and cute, the sleeves of his hoodie slipping over your hands as they clutched the steering wheel.

Fuck, he definitely had a crush on you, and he hated having a crush. There was way too much room for rejection. This was one area in which he’d never really grown up, so he opted for his usual defense mechanism - pushing your buttons, like he was ten years old on the playground, pulling your pigtail just to get a reaction.

“So was I right about you not having many hookups in college?” He blurted out sometime during the third play of All I Want for Christmas is You.

Your head snapped toward him, complete confusion and not even a smidge of amusement on your face.

“What the fuck?” You grumbled. “That’s kinda personal, actually…”

“I’m just saying, I’ve never seen you at parties, and you don’t seem to have a boyfriend. Four years is a long time…”

“Everything is about sex with you, huh? Some of us are actually in college to learn,” you scolded him. It was his intention to push you away, and yet the repulsion in your voice still stung.

“Alright, I’ll stop asking,” he conceded.

“Good,” you huffed, shoulders slumping a little.

He looked over at you every so often, determined to find a flaw, some blemish or ick that he could use as a dealbreaker. This plan backfired terribly, his eyes only discovering more pretty features and cute little mannerisms that made his stomach leap every time he looked at you. He felt like a moth, brainless and hopelessly drawn to the warm light of a lamp that was sure to zap him dead at the slightest touch.

After twenty minutes of freezing him out for his “no hookups” comment, you gasped and excitedly pointed out the first of many road signs for your hometown, your annoyance with him replaced with excitement as the signs advertised you were getting closer and closer to home.

Then you finally gave him something to resent you for. After a remark about how excited you were to see your family, you looked over at him with big, kind eyes, nervously broaching the topic with a light touch on his arm, “I’m sorry about your family leaving you behind. That totally sucks.”

There was a softness in your tone that was so warm and inviting it made him want to jump out of the moving car. He knew he was fucked up for being mad that you were being nice, but he couldn’t help it, the tenderness in your gaze made him feel like a wounded puppy, and he hated your pity.

He pulled his arm away from your gentle fingers like they’d hurt him.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “They didn’t leave me, it was just a miscommunication.”

You withdrew in more ways than one, pulling your hand back and falling awkwardly silent. Rafe kicked himself mentally, of course just when you’d started to come around to him, he pushed you away. Little did those girls in your dorm know, that was the true Rafe Cameron special.

“So, uh, you were saying something about presents for your brothers? How old are they?” He asked, praying he hadn’t made you shut down for good, trying to re-stoke the fires of the friendship you had been building since you offered for him to come home with you.

You were chewing on your nails, picking at the dead skin nervously. At his prompting you started to speak again, though a bit less enthusiastically than before he’d shut you down.

“Uhm, well,” you sat up a little. “There’s Luke, he’s sixteen. And then Reese is thirteen and Bennett is ten.”

“Fun ages,” he nodded, wincing at his cliché words.

“They are fun,” you nodded, a smile returning to your lips at the thought of your little brothers. The sight of you smiling again soothed the ache in his chest and he leaned back into his seat, full of relief.

“Luke is such a teenage boy, too cool for everything. I got him some Nike cleats because he plays football, he’ll pretend he doesn’t like them but I think he’ll wear them. And Reese is quieter, he’s always been a bit more sensitive. He wants to be a photographer, so I got him a vintage Polaroid camera. Benny was the easiest to shop for,” you smiled at the thought of your baby brother, Rafe could tell you had a special love for him. “I got him one of those giant gummy bears that comes in its own plastic case. It cost a fraction of what I spent on the other two but I guarantee you he’ll be the most excited.”

“I’m sure they’ll all like what you got them,” he assured you.

“They better, they cost me a whole paycheck,” you huffed, thinking of all the hours you’d worked slinging drinks at your college’s go-to student bar to pay for the presents that were currently sitting in your trunk.

“It’s better than what I got my sisters,” he reminded you with a laugh.

“Hey! I spent six whole dollars on those souvenirs!” You scolded him, smiling at the memory of the crappy little knick-knacks in the backseat.

“And I’m sure they’ll love them,” he agreed.

“What about your sisters? How old are they?” You asked.

Surely, you were just being polite, keeping the conversation going after he’d asked about your brothers. But he wanted nothing less than to talk about his family right now, the thought of them all hanging out at the Bahama house, completely forgetting that he existed, still stung fresh. He wondered if Sarah and Wheezie even asked his dad where he was, why he wasn’t on the plane. Maybe they were relieved to celebrate the holiday without him annoying them, he probably deserved it.

“Hey, isn’t that your exit?” He pointed at the highway sign, advertising that the off ramp to your hometown was only half-a-mile away, trying to distract you from your question.

“Yes!” It worked, you sat up in your seat, excitedly pressing a little harder on the gas as you celebrated the proximity to home.

“Woah, slow down, I’d like to celebrate Christmas alive,” he joked as the needle on the speedometer climbed higher and higher.

“Oh shit sorry,�� you giggled, pulling your foot back to slow down a little. “I’m just excited. It’s gonna be so cozy. My dad will have put a bunch of colored lights all over the front of the house, and the tree will be up, probably a fire going and Christmas music playing. I can’t wait to see them!”

His jealousy was almost debilitating. What must it be like to feel this excited to go home? To know what was waiting for you was going to bring you so much joy? He wanted what you had so badly, he was tempted to reach out and touch you just to see if he could absorb your happiness by osmosis.

The little town you called home was just as small as Rafe was picturing, if not more. Though, the tiny houses lining the main street were decked to the nines with Christmas decorations, so much merriment in such a tiny little hamlet. The further into the country you drove, green street signs giving way to rickety, hand-painted ones, the more he felt like he understood you.

You smiled at all the lights, body absolutely buzzing with each turn that brought you towards home. Finally, you turned on a long dirt road, past a field of horses Rafe recognized as the farm you said you grew up next to. Approaching a mailbox with your last name on it, your smile fell from your lips, eyebrows creasing as you turned onto the property.

At the end of the long driveway was a small little split level home Rafe surmised to be yours, only where he expected a display of twinkling christmas decor, there was only one single flickering porch light. If he hadn’t known better, he’d assume the family who lived here didn’t celebrate Christmas at all.

“What the hell?” You mumbled under your breath, concern on your face growing as you pulled the car up and parked behind an old, rusting mini-van.

Arms full of presents, Rafe helping with your bags, you stumbled anxiously through the front door. The inside of your house was just as disappointing as the outside. It was messy, dishes on the counter and the echo of obnoxious video games ringing through the halls where there should be the familiar chatter of your family having dinner.

“Hello?” You called out, setting the presents down on the kitchen table. You peaked your head over the island, into the open space of the living room. In the far corner, where there should’ve been a Christmas tree, there was a pile of unfolded laundry.

Two messy headed boys peered over the back of the couch, the third head not moving from its fixation on the TV as his fingers continued to click away on his controller.

“Gigs!!” The smallest one, who Rafe assumed to be Bennett, shouted, he and the second smallest, who he identified as Reese, rose from the couch and made their way towards you.

“Gigs?” Rafe repeated under his breath.

“As in Giggles. It’s my childhood nickname,” you explained, and when you saw his teasing smirk added, “shut up.”

Reese and Bennett nearly tackled you, colliding into you with little bear hugs. Reese was nearing your height, though not quite there yet, and Bennett was small but stocky, his chubby arms squeezing the air from your lungs.

“Rice and beans!” You sang affectionately as you returned their hugs, messing up their hair and pinching their cheeks. You looked to Rafe to answer the question you could see already forming on his lips, “rice and beans, as in Reese and Bennett, their nicknames.”

He smiled at your affectionate embrace with your brothers, nodding with a little, “ah.” Something in him ached, like a haunted limb, a muscle he didn’t even have that was sore from lack of use.

After several moments, Bennett pulled away, eyeing Rafe and pointing a stubby little finger right at him, “who’s he?”

Reese covered his brother’s finger, forcing his hand down correctively.

“Benny, that’s rude,” you said, unable to suppress the little chuckle at your brother’s boyish indifference.

In your concern over the state of the house, you hadn’t planned out how to explain Rafe to your brothers. ‘He’s a friend’ wasn’t totally accurate, but it was the only language they’d understand. Before you could open your mouth to explain anything, though, your youngest brother blurted out, “are you Giggy’s boyfriend?”

“Bennett Alan,” you snipped at him through gritted teeth, giving him a motherly glare as you used his full name in warning. “You’re being rude, and he is not my boyfriend.”

This was true, though Rafe wasn’t sure there was any need for the tinge of disgust in the way you said it. He could sense Bennett formulating another pot-stirring question and jumped in before he had the chance.

“I’m Rafe,” he set his bag down next to the counter and held out a hand.

Bennett puffed out his chest, putting on his best adult voice as he shook Rafe’s hand, “I’m Bennett, my friends call me Benny.”

You and Reese gave each other knowing smirks, sharing eye rolls over your brother’s precocious antics.

“And which should I call you?” Rafe played along with his all-business tone.

“Depends, how much money you got?”

Rafe smirked, but you were mortified. “Oh my god, Beans! You can’t ask people that. Here, make yourself useful and put these presents under the tree.”

“We don’t have one,” Reese told you, the first words Rafe had heard him speak, and by his quiet tone and the way he avoided eye contact he understood why you’d called him the sensitive one.

Rafe caught the way you allowed worry to flash across your face for only a second before you smoothed your features back into faux nonchalance, like you were putting on a show for the kids.

“Oh okay, well then I guess we’ll just leave them on the table,” you shrugged, as if you hadn’t been raving about your family’s grand Christmas trees just minutes ago.

Your eyes drifted back to the living room, where your remaining brother still hadn’t risen to greet you.

“Lukey? Help me with my bags?”

The shaggy haired boy finally turned, eyeing Rafe with a cold distrust that felt like looking in a mirror.

“Looks like he’s already got ‘em,” he grumbled.

You gave him an authoritative glare that had much less playfulness than the one you’d given Bennett.

“Where are mom and dad?” You asked Reese in a hushed tone, shielding the question from Bennett, who was busy dragging a chair over from the kitchen table.

“It’s Thursday,” Reese responded, giving you a knowing look like you should know what that meant. When you clearly didn’t, he added, “chemo day,” in a whisper so quiet Rafe could barely hear it. “Mom’s been asleep since they got back and dad had to work the evening shift.”

Rafe did hear though, and your eyes flicked to him quickly with a vulnerability he hadn’t seen from you yet, like he somehow had something to hold over your head now. He wanted to say the exact right thing to put you at ease, to let you know your family’s business was safe with him. As he was formulating the words, Benny was climbing up on the chair he’d dragged over, standing directly between you and Rafe.

“How tall are you?” Benny asked Rafe once he could meet his eyeline.

“Uhm,” Rafe cleared his throat, pulled from the moment, “I’m 6 '2.”

“I’m 4 foot 1 and three quarters,” Benny explained, as though if this were a competition, he was just a few points behind Rafe, and gaining.

“Nice! 4 '1 is very respectable,” Rafe smiled, deciding it was best to be on Benny’s good side.

“And three quarters,” Benny corrected through gritted teeth.

“Right, sorry, and three quarters,” Rafe put his hands up in defense.

Benny crossed his arms and gave Rafe a once over, as if he was the man of the house deciding if he was allowed to stay.

Sensing your brother was about to say some other rude thing to embarass you, you stepped in, “Benny why don’t you go show our guest where we keep the air mattress,” you grabbed him off the chair and lowered him to the ground with some difficulty, “and be nice,” you added in his ear.

Benny obeyed but gave Rafe narrow, suspicious eyes the whole way down the hall.

“There’s like a thirty percent chance Benny tries to fight him,” Reese noted as the two of you watched them go.

You chuckled, settling on the couch between your two brothers.

“So who is he really?” Luke asked, still not pausing his video game but at least acknowledging your existence.

“He’s just a guy from school,” you shrugged. “He’s Brody’s friend.”

“Is Brody here?” Reese asked hopefully. You and Brody had been friends your whole childhoods, and your brother’s were always big fans.

“No, he had an internship or something, but I’d already told Rafe I’d give him a ride, and when we got to his house his family was just, like, gone,” you explained. “They went on a trip and didn’t even tell him.”

“Yikes,” Luke said. “That’s shitty.”

“Language,” you scolded, making him roll his eyes. “But yes, it is shitty,” you added, making him smirk.

“He’s like Kevin from Home Alone,” Reese quipped. All three of you laughed.

“Honestly? It was kind of exactly like that, only sadder. Like a lost puppy. I mean, who just forgets their kid?” You lowered your voice a bit, hoping it wouldn’t carry down the hall. “I felt so awkward I didn’t know what to do so I said he could come here.”

Your brothers seemed satisfied with your explanation. Even though nothing you said was technically untrue, you still felt like you were somehow being dishonest. You’d never admit it, but it wasn’t all out of pity, there was some small part of you that wanted to bring Rafe home, that was intrigued by him and wanted to see more. But there was no way to explain that to two teenage boys, so you settled for the Home Alone excuse.

Benny came back around the corner, leaping onto the couch and nearly knocking over Luke’s soda.

“Beans, chill,” Luke groaned as he narrowly caught his Mountain Dew before it spilled all over the coffee table.

“Where’s Rafe?” You asked Benny, looking around to see if he’d followed your brother back out.

“He said to tell you he’s going to bed, he seemed kinda grumpy,” Benny shrugged, stealing Luke’s soda when he wasn’t paying attention and taking a swig.

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide the hint of disappointment in your voice. “Okay.”

Down the hall, Rafe snuck quietly into the laundry room as the fading voices of you and your brothers were drowned out by the sound of the water heater, which sat in the cramped space right next to the air mattress Benny had helped him set up.

Your voice echoed in his head, ‘I felt so awkward I didn’t know what to do.’

So it was a pity invite. You saw him as some sad character from a 90s movie, not an actual companion you wanted to spend the holiday with.

He settled on the uncomfortable inflatable mattress. He was in a house full of people, and yet he was beginning to think he might actually feel less lonely all by himself in Tannyhill.

Up before the sun, out the door before breakfast’s done; that’s the way your dad had been your whole life, working a string of manual labor, blue collar jobs that meant he was usually gone before you woke up.

This morning however, you were determined to talk to him before he left, to confront him about the complete lack of Christmas you’d found at your homecoming. You set your alarm at an ungodly hour so you could wait for him to come down the stairs.

Hunched over the counter by the brewing coffee pot, you ran your hands over your face. Your holiday homecoming was nothing like you imagined, the biggest surprise of all being the person you came home with, but you’d figure out how to broach that subject later.

“Hi Gigs.” Your dad’s footsteps were so quiet, you hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen. When you turned to meet him, he flashed you a tired grin.

He’d gotten home after you went to sleep last night, this was the first you’d seen him since your anticlimactic arrival. He looked more exhausted than you ever remembered seeing him. Even more tired than after Bennett was born and he had colic for six months.

“Hi dad,” you approached and gave him a hug before returning to the coffee pot to pour some for him in a travel mug.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

“A lot on my mind,” you said, turning to face him. “Made you some coffee. If you stay and talk to me I might just be persuaded to make you breakfast.”

Your dad slumped into a chair at the kitchen table, pulling on and lacing up his heavy work boots.

“No time for breakfast,” he waved you off. “You know that.”

“Dad, what’s going on?” You asked, knowing your window to get answers was closing quickly.

But he didn’t answer, he just sighed heavily and shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

“Just not a breakfast guy that’s all,” he joked. You knew he knew that’s not what you meant.

“You didn’t even hang any lights,” you mumbled softly, feeling a bit childish. “And there’s no tree.”

Your dad sighed again. You wondered if there was a record for how many times someone could sigh in one conversation.

“I’ve been working double shifts, there just hasn’t been time. I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “It’s been a long year, kid.”

“Why didn’t you tell me it’s gotten so bad? I would’ve come back sooner,” you said, pulling a side eye from him that you read as: and that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.

“I don’t know, why didn’t you tell me about the frat boy in the laundry room?” He countered.

‘Oh, right,” you blushed, feeling like when you were twelve and he found you hiding a stray cat in the garage. “Was gonna mention him but, you know, you were working.”

“Could’ve told me you were bringing your boyfriend home,” he scolded you.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you rushed to explain. “He’s Brody’s friend. He needed a place to crash.”

“Ah, Brody’s friend. That makes me feel so much better,” he rolled his eyes.

Your dad was never a fan of Brody, too much of a ‘knucklehead’ as he called him. You knew Rafe wouldn’t fare much better in your dad’s good graces, no guy you liked ever did. Not that you liked Rafe. Fuck, your blush was getting deeper. You quickly looked down at your feet, hoping your dad wouldn’t notice.

Luckily, he was too tired to read your facial expressions, he huffed as he rose from his chair and approached you, digging in his pocket for some cash. “Here, grab a tree and some gifts for the boys -”

“You haven’t even gotten them gifts yet?” You sighed.

“I know, I know,” he nodded, his baggy, tired eyes begging you for a little slack. You’d never seen him look so tired, sympathy overpowering your disappointment. “I’m trying here, gigs.”

“I got it,” you gave him a small, dutiful smile and pocketed the cash.

“I knew you would,” he gave you a side hug and accepted the travel mug of coffee you handed him. “I’m sorry things aren’t exactly what you expected. but I am glad you’re home.”

As he slipped out the front door into the chilly dusk, your mind spiraled. You knew your mom was having a rough patch with her breast cancer, but you had no idea it’d gotten this bad. No Christmas was simply not an option, maybe things would never go back to normal for you, or your parents, but that was adulthood wasn’t it? Your brothers shouldn’t have to grow up just yet, and you’d make sure they didn’t.

Everything felt wrong, off kilter in a way that made your stomach twist with the familiar anxiety that comes with any situation you can’t control. So you did what you always do when things feel uncertain; you made a list.

Pulling a notebook from the kitchen junk drawer, you uncapped a pen and quickly scribbled everything you could think of that needed to be done:

Decorations

⇢ box in garage? lights working?

Presents for the boys

⇢ wishlists? budget??

Buy and decorate tree

⇢ Douglas Fir? tree lots still open?

Under each item you scribbled all the steps you could think of, as well as any conflicts you might hit along the way. Maybe if you could just work the problem, you could fix this, save Christmas and by extension, your family.

You eyed the empty checkboxes next to each item with worry. If you were going to pull all of this off in just two days, you’d need to call in some reinforcements.

The door to the laundry room squeaks if you open it slowly, which you did deliberately, milking it for all the disruptive sound it’s worth. Rafe was sprawled out on the air mattress, which had deflated just a bit in his sleep, making his legs stick up in the air a little higher than his upper body.

He was snoring away, just like he had in the car, your noisy opening of the door not doing what you’d hoped it would.

You sighed loudly, he didn’t stir. You cleared your throat, still nothing. You coughed theatrically, he was still out cold.

Finally, you opened the lid to the washing machine, taking off one sock and dropping it in, letting the heavy metal lid slam closed as you started a rinse cycle. At the crash, Rafe shot up, nearly falling off the air mattress.

“Oh good, you’re up!” You chirped, as if you hadn’t caused the sudden awakening.

“What the hell are you doing?” He grumbled at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair stuck up at all angles and he squinted, barely able to open his eyes in his exhaustion. You gave yourself one second to think about how cute he looked before redirecting your focus to the reason you were in here.

“Just doing some laundry,” you told him as he reached around in the dimly lit room for his phone. “But since you’re awake...”

“What time is it?” He slurred, still half asleep.

“I dunno probably like 9,” you shrugged, knowing full well that wasn’t the case.

“I can’t find my phone,” he sunk back into the mattress, making like he was going to go back to sleep. That wouldn’t do.

“Oh, here!” You flicked on the fluorescent overhead light, making him wince and pull the covers over his head.

“Gah! Turn them off please!” He cried out, voice muffled from under the blankets.

“It’s time to get up, we have a big day ahead of us,” you walked over to the mattress, kicking it to jostle him around on the half-inflated plastic.

“I’m on vacation,” he protested.

“Yes, exactly, Christmas vacation,” you walked around to the end of the bed, grabbing the covers in two hands and pulling them from his body, making him groan and curl up in the cold air like a rolly polly bug. “We have Christmas things to do.”

You tried not to notice the sculpted arms revealed by his grey tank top, and you really tried not to notice how the thin material of his flannel pajama pants was leaving very little to the imagination. He looked up after a moment, blinking his eyes open to catch you staring, his lips twisting in a cocky grin. He opened his mouth to say something smug and flirtatious, but before he could, his eyes caught the clock on the wall behind you.

“It’s 6am?!” He yelled.

“Oh is it?” You laughed, no longer trying to hide your scheme. “My bad, 6s and 9s look the same to me.”

Swiftly, Rafe stretched out his long leg, hooking his foot behind your knee and pulling you toward him, sweeping you off your feet and onto the mattress. A sharp “oof!” left your lips and as you crashed down onto what little air was left in the mattress to catch you. Landing hard, you immediately slid towards him, your body settling square on top of his.

“You wanna talk some more about 6s and 9s?” He grinned at you, his morning voice low and raspy in a way that sent goosebumps rushing up your spine.

“Ugh, you’re a pig!” You smacked him on the shoulder, pins and needles lingering in your hand where your skin had met his, and tried to push yourself up.

Wobbling on the plastic mattress, your attempts to get off of him only had you wriggling further down until your face was hovering over his. This was the closest you had ever been to him, suddenly noticing just how blue his eyes were. The glow of them under the fluorescents actually knocked the wind out of you, freezing your body in place over him as you took them in, feeling like you might drown in them if you stared too long, but letting the waves pull you under anyway.

“Morning,” he lips curved into a smile that was so handsome it almost made you forget your mission.

Grasping at your reason for coming in here like it was a lifeboat, you decided to use the compromising position you had him in to your advantage, leaning a little closer as you said, “I need you.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up in shock, was this really about to happen, right here in your parent’s laundry room?

“Oh yeah?” He flirted, muscles tensing in anticipation beneath you. “What do you need, hmm?”

“Just say yes and I’ll tell you,” you purposefully dropped your voice lower, adding a tinge of suggestion to your words to really bring it home.

“Anything,” he agreed, his mind five miles ahead of you in the wrong direction.

You sat up, straddling him, and pulled the list of tasks from your pocket.

“Great, get dressed, we’re leaving in five,” you smiled down at him, relishing the completely baffled look on his face. “We’re gonna save Christmas.”

“No, we don’t have time to stop, we gotta stick to the list,” you protested as Rafe turned the car off the road and pulled into a drive thru.

After tricking him into agreeing to help you, you’d rushed him through getting ready and out of the house, convinced the stores would be packed as soon as they opened. He dragged his feet the whole way, but somehow you’d managed to wrangle him into the car, insisting he drive so you could look through some catalogs to map out gifts for your brothers.

“If I have to be up at the asscrack of dawn, I’m getting coffee,” he shot you down.

“Okay, fine, but if we get there and all the good deals are gone, I’m blaming you,” you conceded.

You tapped your knee anxiously as the line of cars in the drive thru crawled like a herd of snails. Rafe watched your fingers strum out of the corner of his eye, noticing for the first time the way your nails were bitten down to the beds. He wasn’t paying much attention, but he was fairly sure they weren’t that messed up yesterday.

“What do you want to order?” He asked, unsure why but suddenly only caring about finding a way to distract you.

Without needing to look at the menu, you recited, “venti blonde americano with two extra shots of espresso and a splash, like a really small splash, of oat milk. Actually no oatmilk. And four shots.”

Rafe blinked back at you, your fidgety fingers lifted to your lips as you chewed on your cuticles.

Pulling up to the speaker, he leaned in and said, “yeah grande black coffee for me, and uh, a tall green tea please.”

“That is not what I ordered!” you snipped as he pulled forward to the first window.

“Yeah, I’m cutting you off,” he explained. “If I let you have any more caffeine, you won’t have any fingernails left.”

You dropped your hand quickly, surprised that he had noticed. You were miffed that he was denying you your coffee, but he was probably right. You took a deep breath and sipped your tea as he drove to the first stop on your list.

Somewhere along the highway, the radio jingled the familiar first notes of All I Want For Christmas is You. You sat up, excitedly reaching to turn the volume up.

“If I have to listen to this song one more time, I swear I’m gonna drive the car off this bridge,” he groaned, his hand covering yours to stop you from making his misery louder.

“Oh my god you’re so dramatic,” you raised your eyebrows, giving in and returning your hand to your lap. “She’s the queen of Christmas!”

“Please,” he gave you a pouty lip from the driver’s seat. “It’s killing me.”

“Okay, fine,” you laughed, rolling your eyes at him. “No more Mariah Carey.”

The department store parking lot was swarming with last minute shoppers. You hated that you belonged with them, punished for procrastination. Usually you did things early and thoroughly, now people would think you were one of the careless who pushed things to the last minute. It was a silly thing to worry about, but everything seemed to worry you today. You even made Rafe exchange phone numbers with you in case one of you got lost in the crowd and you couldn’t find each other. Your mind was running wild with worst case scenarios.

Rafe found a spot far from the door, as you walked towards the store’s entrance, you flipped through the catalog you’d snatched from your parent’s junkmail.

“Okay, so I circled everything that’s similar to what’s on the boys’ lists but on clearance,” you explained to him as he grabbed a cart, not fully listening to you. “We’ve got like fifty dollars for each of them, I think we can find a couple good things.”

Once inside the door, Rafe immediately grabbed a bag of chocolates off of the stocking stuffers display.

“That’s not on the list,” you reminded him, jaw dropping when he opened the bag and started eating the candy right there in the middle of the aisle. “And you didn’t pay for that!”

“Relax,” he held the bag out to you, “have some chocolate. Get into the Christmas spirit.”

“Since when are you the expert on the ‘Christmas spirit?’” You eyed him, noticeably not accepting a piece of his stolen candy. “You just threatened to throw Mariah Carey off a bridge.”

“No, I said I was gonna throw myself off a bridge if I had to listen to her one more time,” he placed his hand over his chest as if he was proving his innocence. “Besides, one of us has to have a little joy,” he noted, tilting his head a little to emphasize his point.

He was right, you were stressing a little too much. If Rafe Cameron was out-Christmasing you, then clearly you needed an attitude adjustment.

“You’re right,” you sighed, accepting one of his chocolates and popping it in your mouth as you looked around the store to map out your shopping plan. “Alright, aisle ten for Reese’s camera lens and then aisle four for Benny’s lego-”

Your sentence was cut short at the feeling of Rafe’s thumb on the corner of your mouth, his face cool and casual as the pad of his finger ran across your lip. Your eyes shot around, there were at least a dozen people in this section, all close enough to see him circling your mouth with his finger.

Before you could push him off, not that you really wanted to, he pulled back. You stumbled a bit, subconsciously chasing the feeling of his touch. He revealed his thumb to you, he’d collected a little glob of chocolate that had smeared around your mouth.

“You’re gonna get us caught for our little shoplifting scheme,” he joked, licking the chocolate off the pad of his thumb as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and not an incredibly sensual action for a fluorescent lit department store at 7am.

“W-we are not shoplifting,” you stammered, fighting speechlessness and praying he didn’t notice the way your cheeks were burning. “You better pay for those.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. I’ll pay for them, I promise. But if I forget, I’m saying you took them.” He dropped the chocolates into the cart before you could protest and wheeled toward the first aisle on your list, making you scurry a bit to catch up with his long legs.

“Bastard,” you mumbled, still feeling flustered.

Somewhere between the frozen food section and the office supplies aisle, you actually started having fun.

Your cart filled slowly, the rush you were in when you entered the store slowing with every moment that passed walking around the store with Rafe. You joked about the hideous holiday decor, and the cheesy romance novel shelf. You stood on the back of the cart as he wheeled you around, nearly taking out a display of canned goods, and got a stern warning from a stock boy that sent you both into a fit of mischievous laughter. He tried on a series of truly awful hats for you, and even let you snap a few pictures.

As you laughed and shopped together, you couldn’t help but notice the cheery looks of the older ladies that passed you in the aisles. You returned their friendly glances with a blush, wondering, though it made you feel like a silly schoolgirl, if they thought Rafe was your boyfriend.

You’d remind yourself how foolish the thought was as you checked items off your list, seeing as this was not the real Rafe Cameron. The real Rafe Cameron wouldn’t be caught dead shopping for gardening gloves and barbeque tongs for your parents, he’d rather be pregaming a party or kicking the girl from last night who’s name he’d already forgotten out of bed.

And yet, here he was, pushing the cart while you rattled on about Christmas when you were seven when it snowed so hard the power went out, the last time you remembered actually having a white Christmas. The way he nodded along intently had you actually wondering if it could be real, if being with him could be more than just a distraction from a stressful morning.

Your thoughts spiraled even further when he stopped to point out a his and hers sweater set, one reading “naughty” and the other “nice.”

“As long as I get to be the nice one,” you smiled as he pulled the itchy wool over his head.

He leaned down to tug its partner over your head, his voice low in your ear, “Only ‘cause I know you like it when I’m naughty.”

Butterflies did pirouettes in your stomach, you snapped a picture of the two of you in a mirror, Rafe towering over you from behind as he smiled for the camera.

“Yeah, we’re definitely buying these,” he said, tucking the tag into your collar, his knuckles ghosting over the skin of your neck.

After a few more shenanigans, you realized two hours had passed, and you still had several more items on your list.

“How about this? For your brothers?” Rafe asked, pointing out an Xbox in a display case.

You snorted, “there’s no planet on which my brother’s would think that actually came from our parents. They’re still using an old PlayStation someone gave us years ago.”

“Well then I’ll get it for them, you can say it came from Santa,” he shrugged, as if the astronomical price tag below it didn’t even exist.

“Our Santa brings, like, socks and candy. He doesn’t have a black card,” you pulled his arm, guiding him to a cheaper aisle.

“And what does your Santa usually bring you?” He questioned, a not so subtle way to find out what you wanted for Christmas.

“I don’t ask him for much,” you brushed the question off. “I just want my family all together.”

Rafe didn’t push any further, watching you out of the corner of his eye, realization dawning that you were serious, you actually didn’t expect to get any gifts for Christmas.

Not noticing his eyes on you, you scanned over everything in your cart, adding it up on your phone’s calculator for the hundredth time. You couldn’t remember a day in your life you weren’t worried about money. Every penny counts now more than ever with your mom not working and your dad unable to find a job that pays enough to keep everyone afloat without completely running himself into the ground.

Without realizing it, you brought your fingertips back to your mouth, biting your nails anxiously for the first time since Rafe had pointed out the bad habit several hours ago.

“Hey you know what?” Rafe said, and you were so lost in worried thoughts that you flinched at the sound of his voice. “Why don’t we split up to get the rest of the list? We’ll cover more ground that way. Also, I think I saw some fake trees on sale back there, so I can grab one.”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling the little bubble of your flirty shopping spree pop.

He was clearly ready to be done with this little excursion. But you’d had more fun than you thought you would, and there were still several days of break left to enjoy with him. You could feel the walls you’d so carefully built around your heart swaying just a little bit in his wind. The thought terrified and thrilled you all at the same time.

After collecting your half of the gift list, you searched the store for Rafe. You found him in the jewelry section, leaning against the glass display case. You made your way towards him, prepared to tease him for wasting time in a section that wasn’t on the list, before you saw his reason for being there. You stopped short, ducking behind an inflatable Santa to watch with a disappointed glare.

He was chatting up a pretty sales girl, her store uniform fitted tightly as she smiled down at him, her cheeks rosy pink and pretty smile blindingly white.

Rafe gave her the charming grin you’d begun to hope he only reserved for you, probably drawling some cheeky compliments to cause her to blush in the way you surely did when he talked to you.

The feeling in your chest was unfamiliar, and painfully uncomfortable. Reluctantly, you identified it as jealousy. No, no, you were not jealous over this obnoxious frat boy, you wouldn’t allow yourself to be. That was not how you were gonna start your Christmas break.

Just as you’d resolved not to be jealous, he reached up and brushed his hand against the necklace she was wearing, admiring her jewelry surely just as an excuse to bring his hand close to her chest. She beamed at him, his attempts at flirting clearly working.

A deep frown settled on your features. He was supposed to be shopping for your little brothers and instead he was feeling up a sales girl? You felt so delusional for thinking you’d misjudged him on the drive down. He was the same guy you thought he was when he showed up at your car yesterday, you should've trusted your gut.

Hoping he wouldn’t catch you watching, you turned quickly on your heel, beelining for check out.

Taking the bag from the sales girl with a wink, Rafe tucked the small item at the bottom of his cart, under the presents he’d collected for your brothers, and began searching for you in the crowded aisles, looking forward to the pleased look on your face when he informed you he’d found everything on his half of the list.

When he found you, you were already half way through checking out, loading items onto the belt and watching with tense shoulders as the total on the screen climbed higher and higher.

“What, were you gonna leave without me?” Rafe joked as he started adding his items to the belt.

“We’re on a schedule, we don’t have time to keep fucking around,” you grumbled.

Rafe met eyes with the college-aged guy who was working as cashier, both of them flashing knowing smirks as if to say, “chicks, am I right, man?” Their boyish camaraderie made you even angrier.

Once your cart was empty, you started to help Rafe empty his cart, but he jumped around to the front before you could, blocking your access.

“No, no, I got it,” he said nervously, his body blocking you from reaching into his cart.

Irritation crept up your chest, threatening to take over completely. You suddenly felt so petty and immature, like you were Benny’s age, knowing you were about to say something rude you’d later regret.

“Fine!” You shoved the cash your dad had given you in Rafe’s hands, “I’ll just go pull the car around then.”

Rafe watched you leave through the store’s sliding glass doors, arms crossed as you exited to the parking lot, which was wet and slippery from the wintery sleet mix that had started falling at some point when you were in the store. You paused and huffed deeply, annoyed by the shift in weather, throwing the hood of your jacket up as you jogged across the lot to your car.

He had no idea what had changed in the thirty minutes you’d been shopping separately. There had been a moment earlier when he thought he’d finally won you over, and now you were back to treating him like he was the bane of your existence.

“This too?” The cashier asked, holding out the decorative mistletoe Rafe had thrown in the bottom of his cart, thinking he could work in some cheeky joke with you and get that perfect eye roll/reluctant smile expression you make that he’d become a little obsessed with.

“Yeah, sure, whatever man,” he agreed with a frown.

As promised, you brought the car around, giving Rafe the cold shoulder as you loaded the gifts into the trunk. When you got to the fake tree Rafe had snagged from the holiday section, you paused.

“What’s that?” You questioned him.

“A tree?” He snapped back. “I told you I was gonna grab one.”

“No,” you shook your head, “we have to get a real tree.”

Rafe looked up at the sky pointedly, the worsening weather causing shoppers around you to duck and run to their car to get out of the misery.

“Are you serious?” He grumbled. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“It just…it has to be real, okay?” You huffed. “I found the last tree lot in the county that still has Douglas Firs, so you can take this one back.”

“Why don’t we keep this one just in case you change your mind,” he suggested.

“Fine, keep it, but I’m not changing my mind,” you threw the box with the fake tree into the trunk and slammed it closed, nearly catching Rafe’s hand in the heavy door as you did.

You stomped around to the driver’s side, leaving Rafe to return the carts to the main entrance, his jaw clenched in frustration the whole way. What had started as disappointment in your change in demeanor had turned into full-on anger. He may not be your favorite person, but you weren’t the only one having a shitty Christmas, and he definitely didn’t think he deserved whatever the fuck this was.

“I’m telling you, it was veer left, not turn left!”

The windshield wipers were working overtime, squeaking against the glass as they tried and failed to keep the freezing rain out of your line of vision. You sat all the way forward in your seat to see through the watery streaks they left behind. You had pulled onto some muddy back road as Rafe read directions from the GPS, trying to find this obscure tree lot several miles outside of town.

“Veer left doesn’t make any sense, I know that road, it’s all factories and empty lots,” you waved him off.

“Okay, well it’s clearly not this road! Is this even a road? It’s like a fucking swamp out here, I don’t know how your tires are even still moving,” He argued back.

“Not everything around here is as nice here as it is in the Outer Banks, Rafe. We’re doing our best, sorry if we don’t meet Cameron standards,” you griped at him.

“Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, just admit you’re fucking lost,” he snipped back.

“I am not lost. It’s probably just taking me on a shortcut. The road will clear up any minute.”

As you said those fateful words, the road got even more unstable, dirt and gravel mixing with the precipitation to make what looked more like a vat of chocolate pudding than a road.

Stubbornly, you accelerated, determined to get out of this patch of road and prove to him you were right. As you sped up, the steering wheel turned erratically under your hands, your tires skidding on the slippery road, eventually stopping movement at all.

“Hmm interesting,” Rafe quipped sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you try to navigate the situation you’d gotten yourself into.

“It’s fine, I just need to…” you accelerated more, your spinning back tire kicking up mud as it fought for forward motion.

“Stop, you’re gonna - “

POP! The car skidded forward violently just an inch before stopping altogether, the weight of it sinking underneath you as a loud whistling noise echoed from the rear tire.

“- blow your tire,” Rafe threw his hands up in exasperation as the low tire pressure light on your dash illuminated with a little ‘ding!’

You avoided his eyes, hands still clutching the steering wheel as you clenched your jaw in anger.

“Thanks a lot,” you mumbled.

Rafe blinked at you in disbelief, jaw hanging slack.

“Me?” He scoffed, looking around the car as if there was someone he could look to for confirmation that you were being insane. “How is this my fault?”

“You’re rushing me! I know how to drive on back roads but you were distracting me!” You were grasping at straws, you knew it, he knew it, but logic had flown out the window when the tire blew.

Rafe just chuckled humorlessly, pinching the bridge of his nose, “let’s just call someone and -”

But you were already opening your door, booted foot landing with a squelch in the mud.

“What are you doing?” He called after you.

You leaned down to look at him through your cracked door, “never changed a tire before, rich boy?” With a smirk, you slammed the door in his face.

Scrambling in the mud behind you, Rafe tried to reason with you.

“It’s pouring, you’re gonna get sick! Please just let me call someone and we can get a tow home - ”

“We still have to get the tree,” you shut him down, loosening the spare tire from the back of the hatchback.

Rafe threw his hands out in disbelief, “you’re not serious right? You’re still trying to find this fucking farm that, I gotta tell you, I’m starting to think doesn’t even exist.”

“Yes,” you said simply, lowering the tire to the ground and pulling the lug wrench from the trunk.

“You might actually be the most stubborn, ridiculous person I’ve ever met. What is it about getting this tree?” He yelled over the steadily increasing rainfall.

“Because, Rafe, I can!” You dropped the wrench in the mud and turned on him, tears stinging your eyes as you yelled, letting all your frustration out on this boy, who just yesterday was a stranger. “I can’t get my dad a better job, and I can’t buy my brothers the presents the really want, and I can’t cure fucking cancer! But I can get a goddamn Douglas Fir, like we have every year since I was born. So I’m getting this tree! You can call your new friend from he jewelry department to come pick you up, but I’m staying here and changing this fucking tire!”

Standing back, Rafe buried his hands in his coat pockets, nodding along as you let it all out, the loose threads all twisting to finally weave together an explanation for your shift in mood. He spotted the tears as you mentioned your powerlessness over your dad’s job and your mom’s cancer, feeling like he was starting to understand your stubborn insistence to make this cursed Christmas joyful.

Though he knew he should be comforting you, he couldn’t help the little upward twitch of his lips at your comment about the jewelry girl. That explained your mood at check out, and if he was being honest, made his heart leap a little at the thought of you actually being jealous for his attention.

After several moments of his eyes on you, sizing you up as he digested your outburst, you suddenly felt exposed, and a little silly, “what?” you asked him with a burning blush.

“Nothing,” he shook his head with a grin, leaning down to pick the wrench up from the mud, “just didn’t know you were the jealous type.”

Your jaw fell slack, out of all you’d just said, of course he was zeroing in on your comment about the girl in the store. You were somewhat relieved though, glad to have an excuse to move on from talking about all the sad, stressful things going on at home.

“You’re such an ass,” you laughed, the air between you growing a little lighter. “I bet people call you that a lot.”

Rafe knelt down in the mud, beginning to loosen the screws of the flat tire.

“Not everyone, some people go with ‘lost puppy’,” he muttered under his breath.

Your smile fell from your lips, your eyes grew as you realized he was quoting you back to you. He had heard you talking about him to your brothers last night. You replayed all your words in your head with a wince - laughing about how he was like the kid from Home Alone, saying you only brought him home because you felt awkward. God, now you felt like an ass.

“Rafe, I’m…I’m so sorry, that was not cool…”

“It’s fine,” he said, a small grunt leaving him as he used the wrench to loosen a particularly rusted bolt.

“No, it’s not. We shouldn’t have been laughing. I didn’t just bring you home because I felt bad-”

“Why did you then?” He stopped what he was doing, his eyes landing on yours so suddenly, you jumped back a bit, taken by the striking blue, and the vulnerability you were seeing in them for the first time.

Deciding it was time to get your own jeans muddy, you knelt down next to him, hands wrapping around the wrench handle next to his to help him pull, both of you struggling due to the rain making the wrench so slippery.

The bolt still didn’t budge, and you paused for a minute, sitting back on your heels and looking at him.

“Because it’s Christmas,” you answered his question. “And I wanted to spend it with a friend.”

The tips of his ears burned red, he hoped you’d think it was just from the cold.

Going in for a second try, you both tugged on the wrench again, gritted teeth and white knuckles as you combined your strength to turn it as hard as you could. Frosted rain slipping between the end of the wrench and the bolt made it slip, the metal flying through the air. You and Rafe both slipped in the mud under your knees, Rafe trying to catch himself on his hands so he didn’t land on top of you, but not quite in time. His large body landed on top of yours and you both went tumbling down the side of the road, landing side by side in the muddy ditch with an unsettling squelch.

Both of you completely covered in mud, panting and shocked, Rafe turned his head to look at you, “fake tree?”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly agreed. “Fake tree.”

You and Rafe snuck in through the garage, both of you tracking mud with every step. There was no way you’d make it all the way up to the bathroom without destroying the floors in your wake.

You’d laughed together the entire drive back to the house. What a disaster the shopping trip had turned into, and yet, you were more in the Christmas spirit now than you had been in a long, long time.

“Oh shit,” you yelped, slipping on your own muddy boot and knocking down a pile of boxes as you tried to stabilize yourself.

Rafe’s arms shot out to catch you, your nails digging into his forearms to hold yourself up. You eyed him, still wearing the “naughty” sweater you hoped he’d remembered to pay for.

“Well these are ruined,” you sighed, looking down at your own mud-soaked pullover. “And there’s no way we’re making it upstairs without tracking in mud.”

Before your sentence was even finished, Rafe was hooking his hands into the collar, pulling the sweater up and off with one pull, peeling off the soaked t-shirt underneath it, too.

Failing miserably to hide your shock at his sculpted form, you bit your lip to silence the gasp that was begging to escape. He was just as built as you expected, if not more. His abs creased in a perfect set of six, sturdy pecs and two thick blue veins running through each bicep. He was somehow tan in the middle of December, and his skin was perfectly smooth apart from the little line of rough hair that ran from his belly button down to the waistband of his jeans.

He caught you staring, of course he did, and smirked as he flustered you further by unbuttoning his jeans and letting them fall to the floor in a muddy heap, left in only his black boxer-briefs.

Frozen in place, you subconsciously pulled your sleeves down over your hands, as if covering yourself up more could clear the cloud of attraction fogging your brain. Rafe turned and walked towards the door that led into the house.

“Wha-where are you going?” You asked him, snapped out of your trance.

“To take a shower,” he said, like it was obvious. “I’m fucking freezing, but you can stay here and drip.”

He smiled at you expectantly, there was a challenging dip in his voice as he over pronounced the last word. Something competitive rose in your chest, he clearly didn’t think you had it in you to strip down, too. At the end of the day, you were a classic oldest child - you didn’t take kindly to losing.

Keeping your eyes locked to him, you grabbed the hem of your sweater and pulled it off over your head, copying him by pulling the shirt underneath off too until you were standing in front of him in just your bra. Rafe tilted his head as his eyes raked over you, raising his eyebrows when he got to your jeans, just as muddy and destroyed as his had been.

With a hard swallow, you undid the button and zipper with shaky hands, shimmying your hips a little to pull the wet denim over your curves. Rafe went pale and speechless, taking in the little show with a heavy rise and fall of his chest. You piled all of your clothes in the corner, hoping no one in your family stumbled upon them before you had the chance to wash them.

Rafe didn’t even try to hide the way he was drinking you in as you padded towards him in your underwear, brushing past him to get to the door first.

“I mean, damn,” he wolf-whistled at you, quietly so no one inside the house came looking for the sound.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, stepping ahead of him so he couldn’t see your pleased smile.

He followed your tiptoed steps through the hall and up the stairs, stopping at each corner to make sure no one was going to come around it and catch the two of you sneaking around in your underwear.

Once you made it to the upstairs bathroom, you turned on the shower, excited to step into the steamy water and finally warm up. You were surprised to find Rafe still standing in the open doorway when you turned, sure he’d get the hint that he should wait outside when it came time for you to really strip down.

“What are you doing?” You whisper-scolded him.

“Enjoying the view,” he winked.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, pushing him by his chest so he stumbled back into the hall. “I don’t need your help for this pa-”

Your sentence was cut short by the creaking of wood under incoming footsteps. Panicking, you grabbed Rafe’s wrist, pulling him into the bathroom and locking the door behind him.

“Woah, is this really happening?” He asked breathlessly, licking his lips before you slapped your hand over his mouth to shut him up, his eyes going wide at your boldness.

“Someone’s coming,” you mouthed, urging him to be quiet as you kept your palm firmly sealed over his lips.

The footsteps in the hall grew louder, their owner getting closer and closer to the door, not knowing you had a half-naked man pushed up against the other side as steam swirled around your bare bodies.

As you both waited with baited breath, your eyes drifted over Rafe’s body, so close to yours in the tiny bathroom. You couldn’t help it, sure that desire was painted all over your features. There was no use in denying it, as the warm steam caused a single drop of sweat to roll down his chest and into the ripple of his abs, you finally allowed yourself to accept that you wanted him, bad.

He felt it too, you were sure of it, his eyes half closed with heavy lids as he looked down over you, drinking in all the exposed skin and soft lace of your underwear set.

Just as his hand slowly started rising toward your hip, a knock on the other side of the door made you both jump, a little yelp of surprise almost leaving your lips before Rafe threw his hand over your mouth, the tables turned.

“Hey Gigs?” Benny’s little voice called from the other side of the door.

You tried to move Rafe’s hand from your mouth, but he only allowed you to lift it enough to respond before covering your lips again.

“Y-yeah, Beans?” Your voice cracked in response, Rafe flashing you a teasing grin at your flustered state. You shot him a warning look, praying your little brother couldn’t sense what was going on.

“Can we open the presents you bought us now, pleaseee?” Benny asked.

Normally you’d say no, that they had to wait until Christmas day. But as you were about to reject his request, Rafe pulled his hand from your mouth, letting his thumb tug your bottom lip down as he dragged his fingers to your jaw and brushed the soft skin of your neck. You could tell by his wicked grin he was enjoying seeing how far he could push you, drunk off your blushes and gasps.

“Yes, sure, th-that’s fine,” you told Benny, eager to get him away from the door. Rafe chuckled quietly at your compliance, making you clench your jaw even harder in annoyance at him.

“Sweet, thanks!” Benny called, hurrying back downstairs, clearly not having expected you to give him the answer he wanted.

Once you were sure the coast was clear, you glared up at Rafe, “you can’t do that!”

He threw his head back in satisfied laughter, bringing it back down only to drop his lips close to your ear.

“So, how about that shower?” He whispered.

With a little grin of your own, you leaned in too, “Rafe?”

“Yeah?”

“Get out.”

Rafe managed to find his way back to the laundry room without bumping into any of your brothers. He ran his hair under the utility sink faucet to get the flecks of mud out, throwing on some clean, warm clothes before heading to the kitchen in search of a much needed glass of water, his mouth still full of cotton at the thought of you nearly naked in front of him.

As he rounded into the kitchen, he stopped short, surprise flashing across his face.

A painfully thin woman, who he could only assume to be your mother, stood in the middle of the small space, bony hands on the back of an empty kitchen chair. Her bald head was wrapped in a silky scarf, and she smiled an easy grin that reminded him so stunningly of yours.

“You must be Rafe,” she said. “Have a seat.”

(Series discontinued, sorry! Thank you for reading 💕)

a/n: okay not the single longest post I've ever made on this website. period. thank u for reading!! two more parts w the last taking place on New Year's Eve. merry everything!!

taglist note: the taglist for this series will be posted in replies asap and has gotten very long so it is closed. I'm soooo thankful that ppl want to know when I post you have no idea! but it takes me a long time to do and makes posting difficult, so I am asking that in order to stay on the list for the rest of the series, you interact with each post in some way (reply with feedback, a rb, an ask - anything you'd like!) it really helps me as a writer! thank you!!

if you missed the taglist, just follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs to be first to know when I post!

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