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wchswift · 3 days ago

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ଓ Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Logan Howlett x latina!fem!reader Summary: you're finally dating Logan, and this year for Christmas, your family, not very mutant-friendly, invites you and Logan to the holiday. Content: fluff, a lot of feelings, slightly angst, established relationship, complicated parents but they redeem themselves, not proofread, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 5k (I got a little carried away) A/N: like I said christmas prompts are all my head has been coming up with lately lol. This one is totally self indulgent... I'm sorry (not really). I really think Logan would get along great with my latin family so this is what I wrote! Merry Christmas to you all!!! 🎄

mdni 𖤐 18+

The world outside was muffled in white. Snow blanketed the grounds of the X-Mansion, smoothing over the jagged chaos that typically defined the lives of its residents. But here, in this room, everything felt still, warm, and safe.

You blinked awake slowly, your cheek resting against the solid plane of Logan’s chest. His steady breathing was a low hum beneath your ear, and the arm he’d slung across your waist anchored you in place, as if he thought you might disappear if he let go.

For a while, you stayed like that, letting the lazy warmth seep into your bones. Mornings like these were rare. Most of your days started with some crisis or other, but the mansion had gone blessedly quiet for the holidays. Even the younger mutants seemed to understand the sanctity of this lull, their usual chatter and chaos replaced with soft laughter and the occasional sound of Christmas music echoing faintly through the halls.

Logan shifted beneath you, his muscles flexing under your cheek as he adjusted his grip. The calloused pads of his fingers traced absentminded circles on your back, a tender gesture you’d come to treasure.

“You’re quiet this morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. “Something on your mind?”

You smiled, too comfortable to move. “Just appreciating this.” You turned your head slightly, nuzzling against him. “Don’t ruin it by talking too much.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Fair enough.”

The quiet stretched out again, the two of you wrapped in the soft cocoon of blankets and each other. You let your thoughts wander, enjoying the rare chance to simply exist without the weight of responsibility pressing down on you.

And then your phone buzzed.

You groaned, burying your face against Logan as the sound shattered the tranquility. “No,” you mumbled. “Not yet.”

Logan reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the offending device without letting you go. “You gonna answer this, or am I tossing it out the window?” he asked, holding it just out of your reach.

You sat up reluctantly, frowning at the screen. The familiar number made your stomach twist, a mix of excitement and apprehension knotting your insides.

“It’s my family,” you said softly.

Logan’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t say anything. He just handed you the phone, his steady gaze enough to ground you.

You hesitated, then swiped to answer. “Hello?”

“¡Mija!” Your mother’s voice filled the line, bright and cheerful as ever. “You sound tired. Are you resting enough? Eating well?”

You smiled despite yourself. “Hi, mamá. I’m fine, I promise.”

“Good. Listen, I have some news.” Her tone turned conspiratorial, and you could almost picture her leaning closer, as if you weren’t miles away. “We want you to come home for Christmas. Your papá and I were talking, and it’s been too long since we’ve all been together.”

Your chest tightened. It had been too long. Ever since your powers had manifested, there had been tension, distance. But in recent months, your family had made an effort to mend things, to accept you for who you were. And now, this invitation felt like another step forward.

“I’d love to,” you said after a moment, your voice softer now. “I really would.”

“Good, good. And—” She hesitated, then plowed ahead, her excitement spilling over. “Bring your boyfriend. Logan, right? We want to meet him.”

You froze, your gaze flicking to Logan, who was watching you with mild curiosity. Your mother’s words echoed in your head, and suddenly, the cozy warmth of the room felt stifling.

“Mija? Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” you managed, your throat dry. “I’m here.”

“Well, bring him. And don’t worry—he’s family now, too. We’ll take care of him.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you. After a few more pleasantries, you ended the call and set the phone down, your hands trembling slightly.

Logan tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing. “What was that about?”

“My family,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “They want me home for Christmas. They want us home for Christmas.”

His eyebrows lifted again, but there was no hesitation in his response. “All right.”

“All right?” You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re okay with going?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugged, his tone casual, but you could see the flicker of something deeper in his expression. “It’s your family. They’re important to you.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. “I just… I don’t know how they’ll react. I mean, they’ve been better about accepting me, but this is different. And you…” You trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Logan reached for you, his hand warm and solid as it cupped your cheek. “Hey,” he said softly. “Stop overthinking it. If they’ve got a problem with me, that’s their issue, not yours. But if you want me there, I’m there.”

His certainty steadied you, and you leaned into his touch, releasing a shaky breath. “Of course I do! I do want you there. I just—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted gently. “Stop worrying. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay. Together.”

Logan leaned back against the pillows, pulling you with him until you were curled up against his side again. The knot of anxiety in your chest loosened slightly, replaced by a tentative sense of hope for having Logan by your side.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, and for a little while longer, the two of you stayed wrapped in the quiet, preparing for the journey ahead.

When it was no longer possible to extend the moment with Logan, you got up and started your day. Since it was close to Christmas, the mansion was quieter and less crowded, giving you a chance to relax alone for a while.

The snow seemed endless, a quiet ocean blanketing the world outside. From the wide windows of the X-Mansion’s common area, it stretched out in every direction, softening the edges of the landscape until it looked like something out of a dream.

You sat on the arm of the couch, watching the scene unfold with the same stillness it seemed to demand. Logan was a shadow in the corner of the room, leaning casually against the doorframe. His presence was like gravity—solid, constant, something you could always feel even when you weren’t looking.

But now, his gaze was fixed on you, sharp and unwavering.

“You’ve been quiet all morning,” he said, breaking the silence. There was no accusation in his tone, only a quiet observation. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You sighed, your breath fogging up the window for just a moment before it vanished. “It’s nothing.”

He let out a low hum, the kind that told you he didn’t believe a word of it. He crossed the room in a few steps, coming to stand beside you. His reflection joined yours in the glass, his dark eyes meeting yours in the faint, distorted version of the world.

“Try again,” he said, his voice softer now.

You looked down at your hands, fingers twisting in your lap. “It’s just… the idea of going home, after too long. And bringing you with me.”

His reflection didn’t waver. “You don’t want me to come?”

“No!” The word burst out of you too quickly, and you winced at the sharpness of it. “That’s not it. I already said, course I want you to come, Lo. It’s just—” You hesitated, your thoughts tripping over each other in their rush to the surface. “I don’t know how they’ll be. My family, I mean. They’ve gotten better about… about everything, but it’s still complicated. And you going too—”

You glanced at him, struggling to find the right words. “You’re not exactly… subtle, Logan. You literally have mutant written all over you. You’re like a storm—intense and impossible to ignore. And I love it so much, but my family, they’re…”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“They’re the kind of people who smile through awkward silences and sweep anything messy under the rug,” you finished weakly. “I just—I don’t know if they’ll know what to do with you. And I don’t want them to make you feel like you don’t belong. I don't want them to treat you differently.”

Logan was quiet for a long moment, his gaze still fixed on you. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, like the rumble of distant thunder.

“You think I care what they think?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“They’re your family,” he said simply. “I’m not going for them. I’m going for you.”

There was something so unshakable about the way he said it, as if the answer was as obvious as the ground beneath his feet.

You let out a shaky laugh, your breath fogging up the glass again. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is,” he said, and the quiet conviction in his voice made your chest ache. “They don’t have to like me. Hell, they don’t even have to understand me. But if they love you, then they’ll respect the choices you’ve made. And if they don’t—” His reflection smiled faintly, a wry twist of his lips. “Well, they’ll have to deal with me.”

You shook your head, a reluctant smile tugging at your own lips. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he said, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “But I’m yours. That’s all that matters.”

Something in your chest unfurled at his words, the knot of anxiety loosening just enough for you to take a deep breath. You leaned against him, your forehead resting against his shoulder. He smelled faintly of pine and smoke, like the forest itself had come to life and taken human form. It was so comforting.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

“For what?” he asked in a low voice, his hand coming up to rest on the back of your neck.

“For being you.”

He huffed a soft laugh, and you felt his lips brush against your hair. “Don’t go getting all sentimental on me now, sweetheart.”

You laughed, the sound lighter now, like the snowflakes falling outside. For the first time all morning, the weight in your chest didn’t feel quite so heavy.

The road stretched ahead of you like an endless ribbon, winding through snow-draped trees and frozen lakes that glittered faintly in the pale winter sunlight. The hum of the car engine was the only sound for a while, a quiet rhythm that matched the pulse of your thoughts.

Logan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console where his fingers occasionally brushed against yours. It was a casual touch, almost absentminded, but it anchored you to him in a way words never could.

You watched his profile as he drove, the sharp lines of his face softened by the morning light. There was a quiet intensity about him, like a storm that seemed less threatening and more comforting. He was like a force of nature, capable of demolishing obstacles while also providing a protective haven —a force of nature that could tear down walls and shield you from the worst of the world all at once.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked without taking his eyes off the road.

You smiled faintly. “Are they worth that much?”

“Probably more,” he said, his lips twitching into the smallest of smirks. “But that’s all I’ve got on me.”

You laughed softly, the sound easing the tension in your chest. “I was just thinking about how far we’ve come. I mean, from where we started… to this.”

Logan glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “This isn’t just ‘far.’ This is everything.”

His words were so simple, so unshakable, that they left you momentarily speechless. He had a way of doing that—cutting through your overthinking with a clarity that left no room for doubt.

You turned to look out the window, the snow-covered landscape blurring past. “You know, when my powers first showed up, I thought… I thought I’d never have this. A life. Someone like you.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but you felt his hand move, his fingers intertwining with yours on the console. “Guess I’m lucky you were wrong.”

You blinked, surprised by the softness in his voice. When you looked at him again, his eyes were fixed on the road, but there was something unguarded about his expression—a glimpse of the man behind the claws and the growl.

“Logan…”

He shook his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t go getting mushy on me now, sweetheart. We’ve got a long drive ahead.”

You snorted a laugh, leaning back in your seat. The warmth of his hand in yours stayed with you, a quiet reassurance that no matter what waited at the end of this journey, you wouldn’t face it alone.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Your family’s house was just as you remembered—warm, inviting, and alive with the kind of chaos that only the holidays could bring.

Lights twinkled along the roofline, and the faint sound of music spilled out into the crisp evening air. As Logan helped you with the bags, the front door swung open, and a wave of noise and warmth hit you like a tidal wave.

“¡Cariño! ¡Por fin!” Your mother was the first to greet you, wrapping you in a hug so tight it stole your breath. “I’ve been waiting all day!”

“Mamá,” you managed, laughing as she fussed over you.

And then her attention shifted to Logan. Her eyes softened, though her tone remained brisk. “And this must be Logan.”

He nodded, his posture relaxed but his expression carefully neutral. “Ma’am.”

Your mother’s lips twitched, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she turned to usher you both inside, chattering about the food, the decorations, and how your father was already working on his second plate.

The rest of the family followed in quick succession, a whirlwind of introductions, hugs, and rapid-fire questions. Logan handled it all with a quiet patience that surprised even you, his gruff demeanor softening just enough to put them at ease.

Your younger cousin tugged at his sleeve, wide-eyed. “Are you really Wolverine? Like, claws and everything?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, glancing at you as if to ask, 'Should I?'

You shrugged, trying not to laugh. “Might as well get it over with.”

With a sigh, he extended one hand, the metallic claws sliding out with a faint snikt. Your cousin’s eyes widened further, her jaw dropping.

“Whoa…”

The rest of the family crowded around, their curiosity breaking any lingering tension. Logan didn’t say much, but the faint smirk on his face told you he didn’t mind the attention nearly as much as he pretended to.

As the evening wore on, the chaos began to settle. The smell of food and cinnamon filled the air, and the house hummed with laughter and music. Logan had drifted to a corner of the room, where your father showed him an old photo album.

You watched them from across the room, your heart swelling at the sight of Logan fitting into this world you’d been so afraid to share with him.

“Mija,” your mother said, pulling you aside. Her voice was softer now, her eyes warm. “He’s good for you. I can see it.”

You smiled, your chest tightening with emotion. “He is. More than I ever thought I deserved.”

She cupped your face, her hands warm and familiar. “Don’t ever think that. You deserve everything, and more. I wish I had told you that more often. I'm sorry, nena.”

For the first time in a long while, you believed her.

Dinner had barely ended when the music started, a lively rhythm spilling from the speakers and filling every corner of the house. Chairs were pushed back, plates cleared away, and the living room became an impromptu dance floor.

You watched from the edge of the room, laughing as your cousins dragged reluctant uncles and aunts into the fray. The Christmas lights blinked in time with the beat, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the scene.

And then you felt a hand on your wrist.

“C’mon,” Logan said, his voice low and warm.

You stared at him, incredulous. “You? Dance?”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ve been around long enough to pick up a thing or two. Don’t make me regret this.”

Before you could protest, he pulled you onto the floor. The music swelled, and for a moment, you forgot the chaos, the noise, everything but the warmth of his hand on yours and the steady strength of his other hand resting lightly on your waist.

He wasn’t perfect—his steps were a little stiff, and his timing faltered now and then—but his confidence made up for it. You couldn’t stop smiling, even as your family whooped and cheered around you.

“Not bad for a grumpy old man,” you teased, your voice just loud enough for him to hear over the music.

“Careful,” he warned, his smirk widening. “We are at your parents' house but if you keep this up, that won't stop me from punishing you." He whispered against your ear for only you to hear, his voice firm but with a hint of humor.

You laughed, the sound pure and unrestrained, and for the first time that night, the weight of your nerves began to lift.

Later, as the music faded into softer melodies and the crowd thinned out, you found yourself in the kitchen, refilling glasses and helping your mother plate desserts.

“That Logan,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “He’s different.”

You froze, unsure of where she was going with this. “Is that… bad?”

She shook her head, her hands deftly arranging cookies on a platter. “No. Just… surprising. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, you can tell he means every word. And the way he looks at you…” She paused, her gaze softening. “You deserve that kind of love, cariño. The kind that doesn’t waver.”

Your throat tightened, and you turned back to the counter, suddenly very interested in the stack of plates waiting to be carried out. “Thanks, mamá.”

But before you could continue, the sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Your aunt appeared in the doorway, her ever-present smile firmly in place.

“There you are!” she said brightly, stepping into the kitchen as though she hadn’t just been eavesdropping. Her gaze flicked between you and your mother, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “What are we talking about?”

“Logan,” your mother replied, her tone light but guarded.

“Ah,” your aunt said, her smile sharpening at the edges. “He’s… an interesting choice.”

You stiffened, the warmth from your mother’s words quickly fading. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” your aunt said breezily, but there was a calculated edge to her voice. She picked up a cookie, examining it as though it were the most fascinating thing in the room. “It’s just—well, a man like that doesn’t seem very… stable.”

Your mother frowned, "Paloma don't start…" she said with a warning tone, but even so, your aunt continued, her tone dripping with faux concern. “No, I just mean, he's a mutant! And with his background—and those claws… He seems a little aggressive too, It must be exhausting, keeping up with someone like him.”

The words hit like a slap, dredging up the old insecurities you’d worked so hard to bury. Your grip on the platter tightened as you struggled to steady your voice. “Don't you dare! You don't know anything about him. Logan is not aggressive, he is a good man, kind and caring.” you said evenly, refusing to rise to her bait.

“Of course, I’m sure he is,” your aunt said, her smile widening. “But he is still a mutant, don’t you think—”

"And my daughter is also a mutant, Paloma, so you better stop this, " your mother replied, her face completely serious now.

"I didn't mean to offend, I'm sorry," she said sarcastically. "But it's funny you should say that since you never were okay or wanted to deal with the fact that she was a mutant either."

Your breath caught your throat, chest tightening as you felt anger take over.

"You're right, I lost my relationship with my daughter just because I didn't understand her, and I was wrong. All I want most is to make up for it and change. So I won't accept any more of your prejudice, not with my daughter or with Logan." Your mother's voice was firm and steady, her posture confident and despite the moment I smiled to see the change in her. The way she defended you.

“Everything is fine? Anyone got something to say about me?”

Before your aunt could answer, the deep, gruff voice cut through the air like a blade, silencing the room. You turned to see Logan standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding.

Your aunt faltered, her confidence wavering under the weight of his gaze. “I—no, of course not,” she stammered, her smile faltering as she fidgeted with the cookie in her hand.

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver, and his voice was calm but firm as he added, “Good. We wouldn't want to cause a scene on Christmas, right?”

Your aunt nodded, muttered something about needing to check on the drinks, and scurried out of the kitchen, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

Logan crossed the room in a few strides, his hand finding yours. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, grounding you. “You okay?” he asked softly. “Need a hand?” This time he looked at your mother, his gaze light and tone gentle.

Your mother stepped aside with a knowing smile. “She’s all yours.”

You smiled, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Logan’s hand tightened around yours. “C’mon,” he said, his voice low and meant only for you. “Let’s get out of here for a minute.”

The night had settled into a comfortable lull by the time Logan led you outside. The snow had stopped falling, but the cold still bit at your cheeks and turned your breath into faint clouds in the air.

“Busy night,” he said, his tone dry but not unkind.

You laughed softly, the sound muted by the quiet of the world around you. “You handled it pretty well.”

He shrugged, his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. “Your family’s all right. Loud, but all right.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “That’s high praise coming from you.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The silence stretched out, not uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Finally, he turned to you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it. “You were scared about bringing me here,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble.

You let out a breath, watching it curl into the night air. “I didn’t want it to go wrong—for you, or for them. I thought maybe… maybe I was asking too much.”

Logan stepped closer, his presence like a shield against the cold. “You never ask too much from me,” he said firmly. “But you’ve got to stop carrying all this by yourself. You’re not alone in this anymore.”

His hand found yours, the roughness of his fingers a contrast to the gentleness of his touch. “You don’t need to protect me. And you sure as hell don’t need to protect them from me. That’s not how this works.”

Your throat tightened, his words cutting through the tangled mess of your insecurities. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

He tipped your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours. “You won’t.” The certainty in his voice was unshakable, and it felt like he was holding more than just your gaze—it felt like he was holding you together.

"I can't lose you, Logan," you breathed, desperation lacing your words. "And sure as hell I wasn't going to lose you because of my family." As he leaned closer, the frigidness of the world outside seemed to fade, replaced by the warmth radiating from him. His forehead grazed yours, a gentle touch that sent a shiver of connection coursing through you.

His breath was warm, his voice a whisper that carried only for you. “Whatever happens, it’s you and me. That’s not changing.”

The words wrapped around your heart, soft and unyielding all at once. “I love you,” you whispered, the confession slipping out before you could stop it.

He smiled then, a rare, fleeting thing that lit his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. “I love you too,” he said, the rough edges of his voice softening with the weight of the truth.

And then he kissed you, slow and deliberate, like there was nothing in the world but this moment. His hands moved to your waist, grounding you, making you feel like everything would be okay.

Later that night, the house was quieting down. The children had been sent to bed, though the muffled sound of giggles hinted they weren’t asleep just yet. Most of the adults had retreated to the kitchen for coffee and one last helping of dessert. You sat with Logan on the couch, the glow of the Christmas tree casting soft shadows across the room.

The space felt smaller now, more intimate, as if the noise and chaos from earlier had wrapped itself around the house and left behind only warmth. Logan had his arm draped along the back of the couch, and you leaned against him, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice low, “I’ve been around a long time. Seen a lot of families. Never really… been part of one.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, surprised by the confession. “Not even before—?”

He shook his head, cutting you off gently. “Never had anything like this. The noise, the mess, the way they’re all in each other’s business.” He chuckled softly. “It’s good. Feels like life.”

You reached for his hand, your fingers lacing with his. “They’ve accepted you, you know. You might not think it, but they have.”

He looked down at you, his brow furrowed. “How can you tell?”

You smiled. “Because they’re treating you exactly the same way they treat me—asking too many questions, teasing you, shoving food at you like it’s the answer to everything. That’s how they show love.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, his eyes glued to your intertwined fingers. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “It’s nice. It’s… good to feel that. To feel like I’ve got a place.”

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, your heart swelling at the vulnerability he rarely let show. “You do. With them, and with me.”

The sun was barely rising when you woke the next morning, the soft glow of dawn spilling into the room. Logan was still asleep beside you, his breathing slow and even, one arm draped possessively over your waist. For a moment, you just watched him, marveling at the way the years seemed to fall away when he was at peace.

The sound of children’s laughter broke the stillness, followed by the creak of floorboards and the distant rustle of wrapping paper. Logan stirred, his eyes blinking open as he looked at you.

“Mornin’,” he mumbled, his voice gravelly with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered, leaning down to brush a kiss against his lips.

He smiled against your mouth, his hand moving to the small of your back to pull you closer. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

The two of you made your way downstairs, where the living room had transformed into a chaotic wonderland of presents and decorations. The children were tearing into their gifts with wild abandon, while the adults watched with coffee cups in hand and fond smiles on their faces.

“¡Mija! ¡Logan! Ven acá!” Your father waved you over, a brightly wrapped package in his hands.

You sat on the floor beside Logan as your father handed you the gift. “This is for you two,” he said, his voice warm.

Inside was a framed photo of the family taken the night before, everyone crowded together under the Christmas lights. In the corner, Logan stood beside you, his expression reserved but his hand resting on your shoulder.

“We wanted you to have something to remember this Christmas by,” your father said. “So you’ll always know that you have a place here. Both of you.”

You glanced at Logan, your throat tight with emotion. He met your gaze, his arm coming to rest on your shoulders, gently pulling you against him as he gave you the smallest of nods.

By the time the car was packed and the goodbyes were said, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the snow. Your family stood on the porch, waving as Logan started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

The road stretched out ahead of you, the silence in the car a comfortable contrast to the noise of the past two days. You leaned back in your seat, watching the snow-covered trees blur past.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you said, glancing over at Logan.

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands steady on the wheel. “Could’ve been worse. Your tío Pablo was about two shots of tequila away from a fight, though.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He’s always like that. But he liked you, you know. They all did.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, but the faint curve of his lips told you everything you needed to know.

As the miles stretched on, you found yourself reaching for his hand, your fingers lacing together over the console. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“You’re happy,” he said after a while.

You smiled, resting your head against the seat. “I am.”

He glanced at you, his expression soft. “Good. You deserve that.”

And as the car continued down the snow-dusted road, you realized that you finally felt completely at peace.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

#꣖ ີ ꣓ writes.#logan howlett x reader #hugh jackman #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #logan howlett smut #the wolverine #wolverine x reader #Wolverine #logan howlett fluff #wolverine fanfiction

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witchywithwhiskey · 1 day ago

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first christmas with trucker jake jensen

pairing: trucker!jake jensen x former sex worker!female reader

summary: jake makes your first christmas together special by surprising you with some christmas decorations and asking for your help decorating his tree, which brings the two of you closer in new ways.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, painful childhood memories, some angst/crying, fluff, jake jensen is a christmas menace

word count: 1.7k

a/n: based on this ask from @veltana: Are trucker Ari's and trucker Jake's readers gonna decorate the rigs for the holidays? i wasn't going to write a lot, but, uh, well i did so i hope y'all enjoy some christmas fluff/smut/angst with trucker Jake!! i really enjoyed digging into his and reader's backstories!

dirty filthy truckers universe masterlist

Ok so here’s the thing: trucker Jake Jensen LOVES Christmas. (Honestly, you’d be hard-pressed to convince me this isn’t true to canon Jake Jensen—he just seems like the kind of guy who’d love Christmas!)

I imagine Jake didn’t have the best childhood. Maybe he had some really magical Christmases when he was very little, but then his parents became absent or they died when he was still pretty young, or a mixture of the two. His parents not being around is why he’s so close to his sister and niece, and why family is important to him.

But I digress. The point is, I think Jake had a lot of lackluster Christmases, and he realized that if he wanted Christmas cheer in his life, he was going to have to be the one to make it. And boy does he.

Now, I should also mention that I think Jake’s reader had a similar childhood experience. You grew up with cold, sparse Christmases—maybe your parent/parents would get a tree but it was fake and pre-lit and they’d only decorate it with generic decorations.

All the homemade ornaments you brought home from school might’ve been hung up on the tree that year, but your parents would toss them when putting everything away and you’d have to dig them out of the trash. Eventually, you stopped giving them to your parents and kept them in a shoebox under your bed. You’ve kept the box, but never hung them up.

Unlike Jake, you stuck with what was comfortable because it was what you’d always known, so you weren’t very big on decorating for Christmas. Most years, you wouldn’t even get a tree.

You’d always figure you’d get one when you got a day off from Diesel Dolls, but then you’d spend your days off relaxing and not wanting to go through the process of getting a tree, lugging it back to your apartment alone, and then decorating it.

All this is to say, you’re not the type to even think about asking Jake if you can decorate the inside of his rig for the holidays. But that’s ok, because he’s way ahead of you.

Early in November—so early, you’re not even thinking about Christmas yet—Jake gets a motel room for the night. This isn’t out of the ordinary, he likes to get a room when the both of you are craving a shower and some sex in a real bed.

That night, Jake fucks you to sleep. Literally. He makes you come so much, you pass out and are snoring softly before he can even grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up.

Jake watches you sleep for a little while (it’s cute, not creepy, I swear), but when he tries to doze off himself, he can’t. He’s heard the stories about your austere childhood Christmases and he’s determined to bring you some Christmas magic.

So while you sleep, he pulls out the boxes and boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations he keeps in the storage of his rig. He spends all night stringing lights and hanging garlands and other decorations until the front seats and the bunk in the back are so stuffed, there’s barely room to sit, let alone move around.

It’s all worth it for the expression on your face when you see what he’s done, though. The way your eyes light up with surprise and delight and even a touch of wonder. It’s more Christmas than you’ve ever seen before crammed into the small space of his rig and you… love it.

You love it more than you ever thought possible and you’re speechless as you climb up into the rig and flop into the driver’s seat, your eyes greedily looking around at all the decorations while your mouth hangs open in surprise.

There’s even a little plastic Christmas tree fixed to the dashboard, tiny little lights twinkling. It’s all so perfect, so wonderful, that you don’t know what to say.

“Do you… like it?” Jake asks tentatively, his hands on either side of the open door, one foot on the step up into the rig, while he watches you taking it all in. He thought he’d read you right, that you’d enjoy some Christmas cheer, but he’s beginning to worry he’d been wrong.

Unable to find the words for how you feel, you turn back to Jake with tears in your eyes and you practically tackle him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you kiss him hard. He stumbles back a step into the parking lot of the motel, his arms bracing you against his chest while he kisses you back.

Jake turns to walk you backward into the motel room, but you make a sound of protest. Kissing his stupidly handsome face—including the goatee you love so much—and knocking his glasses a little askew, you drag him back into the rig, impatiently waiting while he closes and locks the door behind you. Then you haul him into the bunk in the back until he covers your body with his own.

Quickly, the two of you tear your clothes off, and when Jake slides inside you, filling you up perfectly the way that only he can, you feel like your heart grows two sizes. You’re so happy, tears slip from your eyes and slide down your temples into your hair while Jake coos at you and kisses the tears from your skin.

“Don’t cry, kitten, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he murmurs in your ear, his hips working you open with his cock until you’re moaning more than you’re crying. You can’t even find the words to tell him they’re happy tears, you just cling to him and hold him tight in your arms.

Jake fucks you slow and sweet in his rig while you’re surrounded by a ridiculous amount of Christmas decorations—so much that when Jake hikes your thigh up around his hip, you accidentally kick some loose. But Jake doesn’t care enough to stop, filling you over and over again in a steady rhythm that drives you wild, pleasure coiling in your core.

He makes you come while a fallen garland tangles around your entwined legs, the snowflakes he’s hung from the ceiling swaying with the force of his thrusting. And then he tumbles over the edge after you, filling you up with his come and holding you close as you catch your breath together.

You laugh at the mess the two of you have made of his decorations and he chuckles right along with you, telling you he’ll fix them before you get back on the road. You snuggle into him and thank him for the early Christmas present.

But you have no idea what else Jake has in store for you because, like I said, he LOVES Christmas.

I imagine Jake has a house somewhere deep in the Rocky Mountains, high enough that there’s guaranteed to be snow at Christmas. It’s so remote, in fact, that there wouldn’t be any service or cable if not for the robust satellite setup he has.

Your first Christmas together, he takes you to his house and pulls the same trick he did with the truck rig, where he decorates the house to the max while you’re asleep. (It isn’t uncommon for Jake to go a couple days without sleeping. He used to be in the military and it fucked with his ability to maintain a normal routine, which is why he enjoys the freedom that comes with being a trucker.)

The only thing Jake leaves undecorated is the tree. It’s a fresh pine he had shipped to his house, and set up in the massive living room, the tall tree taking up an entire corner by itself.

Jake makes you some coffee while you look at the decorations he’s put up and then you sit on the couch sipping it while he strings the lights on the tree. He’s focused and methodical while he works, and you can’t help but get a little turned on by the cute, determined expression on his face and the way his biceps bulge and flex.

But when he’s done, the heat that had been simmering in your core is extinguished because Jake pulls out a shoebox that looks far too familiar, and it brings up far too many painful memories.

Jake sits down beside you, his head hanging a little like a guilty puppy while he tells you he pilfered it from your apartment the last time he was there. He catches your eye and you see the earnestness in his gaze when he asks you to tell him about all the ornaments.

When you hesitate—because you’re not sure whether to be mad at Jake for going through your things or to love him even more for remembering that you’d kep the ornaments—he pulls you into his lap and kisses your forehead.

“I want to know all of you, kitten,” he says gently, tipping your face toward his so he can look into your eyes. “Even the bad parts—especially the bad parts. I want to hear about all your bad Christmas memories so I can replace them with good ones.”

By the time he’s done talking, your eyes are misty with tears and you nod, leaning in for a kiss before you take a deep, steadying breath. It helps that Jake’s arms are big and strong, his chest firm as you lean into him. Then, you open the box.

Jake listens patiently while you pull out each ornament and tell him what you remember about it, the Christmas memories you associate with it. It’s a long, difficult process, but when you’re done, you feel inexplicably lighter.

When you look to Jake, to see his reaction, you find him with red-rimmed eyes, like he cried while you told him about your childhood Christmases. But before you can ask him about it, he captures your lips in the softest, sweetest kiss you’ve ever felt. Once he pulls away, he helps you up from the couch and, together, you hang the ornaments on the tree.

Then you spend the rest of the morning hanging up all of Jake’s tree ornaments—of which there are many—and he tells you stories about his sister and his niece. By the time you’re done, you feel filled up with Christmas cheer and you drag Jake back down onto the couch.

There, under the lights of the Christmas tree and all the decorations overflowing his mountain home, you kiss your trucker prince charming and show him how happy you are to be spending the holiday with him.

dirty filthy truckers universe masterlist

#jake jensen #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen smut #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen x you #jake jensen fluff #trucker jake jensen #jake jensen au #jake jensen imagine #trucker au #christmas fanfiction #jake jensen drabble #chris evans #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #trucker prince charming #witchywithwhiskeywork

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dooberific · 12 hours ago

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Hiiiiiii!! Can I ask for Harumasa x Reader angst? They are lovers and the reader is also Harumasa's colleague. Then the reader got commissioned(?) to fight hollows but she got stuck in that place and (idk if they went to fight hollows alone but for this request, they have like underlings(?) that would go with them for the mission) the people/fighters that the reader went with to the hollows came back heavily injured and Harumasa saw that the reader is not there with them. That is all hehe, it's up to you if you want the reader to be found or if they would be a hollow and Harumasa has to fight them knowing that that is the reader (I'm a sucker for angst)

Take your time doing this request and stay healthy, dear author!

Anon….who hurt you on Christmas? 😭. Hope this is close to what you were envisioning!

❝ 𝘚𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 ❞

harumasa x afab!reader

genre: hurt no comfort, major character death

summary: it was supposed to be a routine mission, now he’s left to pick up the pieces

wc: 2.3k

There was a ring cut to your size. A thin and silver little band that lacked grandiose ornamentation. Diamonds and frills were never your thing after all, he could still see the little quirk in your lips at the memory of your colleagues rushing in with stones so large you thought them better fit for paperweights than proclamations of their belonging to another under the banner of love and marriage. “Practicality above all else,” you had claimed some months ago, thumbing at the simple band around your index finger. Your late mother’s ring.

He hoped you were the sentimental kind, your voice warbled over the line from the outpost in his ear as he smiled. “I’m just saying to be careful is all.” He asserted, fingers running aimlessly over the silver band resting in his palm. Your initials and his were cut into the inside.

It was supposed to be your day off, the first you had taken in several months, but when H.A.N.D phoned you that they needed your section of the HSO to assemble for a rescue mission after a Defense Force team had vanished inside of Hollow Zero, well….you didn’t get the luxury of saying no, even if you were the Chief.

“When am I not careful? Remember which one of us you’re talking to here, Haru.” You chided, the smile on your face so present he could hear it change the lilt of your voice.

“Right, right, I’m talking to my beautiful, kind, intelligent and all around perfect girlfriend~” Though he hoped that title would be changing very soon, as he held the ring up to the light, the sun filtering through the window of your shared apartment dancing enticingly over its surface.

You giggled in his ear, the sound warming him to the soul. He could practically see the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled in delight. “That’s much better.”

The interference in the background of the call amplified, faint callings of your name cutting through the static. You sounded disappointed. “Sorry Haru, I gotta go.”

“It’s okay baby, duty calls. Just try to be home for dinner.”

“Wouldn’t miss a date night for the world, you better not peek in the closet while I’m gone! I want that dress to be a pleasant surprise later.”

You fell quiet again as you pulled the receiver away from your mouth, yelling a response into the background. “They’re about to have an aneurysm over here,” you huffed.

“I love you, Haru~”

“I love you too, (y/n)~”

That was a little after noon. It was now nearing midnight and the outpost was crawling with H.A.N.D uniforms and HSO stragglers. Countless outpost scientists shouldered through the crowd, chiming off readings and acting as if they just had a some great scientific breakthrough.

But you were still inside of Hollow Zero.

And H.A.N.D was beginning to withdraw.

Even flashing his Section 6 badge failed to get him answers despite his insistence, earning little more than the shake of a head and a “this is above your paygrade, kid.”

They threatened to court martial him if he kept accosting them. But they didn’t have you inside the Hollow like he did. The epitome of his happiness, the one he swore hung the moon and stars, his most constant companion, and the only one he could imagine waking up beside of until the day he expired.

They didn’t have you, but they had the version of you that made their actions palatable. The “good soldier” and “valiant leader”. The slave to a public that didn’t care to know your name even as you shouldered their burdens as ceaselessly as atlas held the heavens. The one who signed up for a death job.

A chorus of shouts erupted, the flash of the medical units blazing to life under the white spotlights.

Survivors.

He shouldered his way through the swell of the crowd with little regard for those he pushed aside. In a perfect world he would break from the crowd and see you standing there, a little worse for wear but alive and smiling like you just cheated the world. You would push past the medic teams as they chased you down to throw your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his lips as you gloated playfully.

“See? What’d I tell you? Safe and sound.”

But you weren’t there. A cluster of five soldiers stumbled through the outer bounds of the Hollow—no, those weren’t soldiers, they were members of your faction carrying the torn uniforms of Defense Force operatives. They dripped with blood and grime, corruption marring their skin as they limped out, half-dragging others.

“Hey!” He yelled over the roar of the crowd as he grabbed one of them by the shoulder. His name badge shined under the lights. Kimura.

“Where’s your chief?”

The man shoved his hand away, “Get off me man!”

He didn’t know where he got the strength as he grappled with Kimura before taking two fistfuls of his collar. “Where’s your fucking Chief? Where’s (y/n)?!”

Multiple pairs of hands tore at his uniform from behind as they hauled him off, legs kicking as he wrestled against their pull.

“Where is she?”

“She’s stayed behind!”

Kimura’s face was blank, his eyes distant and foggy as he stared at the ground. There were tears streaming down his face as he drew a ragged breath. “I’ve never seen so many ethereals, we were overran so quickly…Chief (l/n) and Deputy Chief Kato created a diversion to draw them away so we could get out.”

Kimura looked up with red rimmed eyes.

“I am so sorry.”

Hollow Zero had mutated. Or that was the story they were telling everyone now. The sensors at the outpost had registered a dramatic spike in etheric energy about 30 minutes after Section 2 had infiltrated, and by the next 20 the bangboo that accompanied you had stumbled out with fried circuits, the carrot it followed now expired as the interior of the hollow rearranged.

It was supposed to be a standard recovery operation. You had done them hundreds of times in the past.

“I’m sorry, Asaba. My hands are tied.” The officer said with a shake of his head. “No one’s allowed in unless they are operating with their faction. You’re the only one from Section 6 here.”

He gripped his bow tighter. “Then I suggest you turn around and pretend you didn’t see me then.”

It felt like an electric current thrummed under his skin as he breached the Hollow. He didn’t bother to call the proxy or wait for the association to form a new carrot. There was no point, even as desperately as he clinged to the idea of you being unharmed, alive, there was still a rotten crawl of doubt in the back of his mind that made the thought of wandering forever as an ethereal within Hollow Zero a more palatable choice than leaving here without you.

He didn’t know how long he had wandered through the hollow, hair matted to his forehead from sweat as he cleared another broken wall, trying to survey as much of the warped landscape as he could. He doubled over, hands braced against his knees as he tried to catch his breath. He had overextended himself already, his chest constricted tightly as his breathing became shallow, a sharp ringing in his ears. He screwed his eyes shut, focusing on getting his lungs back under control.

In and out.

There was a distant cry that met his ears, strangled and distorted, one that twisted his gut in an iron grip as his head shot up.

You.

He didn’t know what he hoped to find when he fumbled over the rubble in your direction. Finding you was the sole focus of his mind for the past few hours, the rush of adrenaline carrying his mind past rational thought.

You. You. You.

It urged his tired legs forward, kept him standing as he rounded the corner and saw the torn back of your uniform jacket stretched unnaturally over your crumpled form.

Even with your back to him he would have recognized you anywhere, even as your body contorted unnaturally, muscles spasming wildly as a distorted cry pierced the air. Your hands clawed as the ground, ugly black shards piercing your skin from within, nailbeds black and bloody where your fingertips had rubbed raw in the dirt.

He knew better than to approach you, to roll you to your back as your body seized and writhed in his grasp, more warbled cries piercing the air.

Your eyes were glassy and unfocused as his hands cupped your cheeks. Your skin was hot to the touch, corruption running thickly in your veins and curling out of your skin like ugly black horns.

He shushed you gently, cradling your head in his arms as your hands tore at his sides, teeth gnashing wildly as the corruption ate away at your humanity before his very eyes.

“When I turn into an ethereal one day, I want to you promise that you’ll kill me.”

You lifted your head off his chest. “You sure have a strange idea of pillow talk, Haru.”

He snorted, hands tracing down the curve of your spine as you shivered. “Yeah, I know but still…I don’t want to wander in a Hollow forever like some mindless husk. That’s no way to live.”

You bit your cheek, stretching up to peck him on the lips, his hands gently brushing your hair aside as he grinned against your lips.

“Then I trust you to do the same for me.”

He hated himself. He hated that he remembered that conversation you had over a year ago, begging himself to twist the truth, to convince his own mind that you didn’t know the weight of your words. But deep down he knew he couldn’t deny it, deny you, of the peaceful passing he had asked you to offer him.

This shouldn’t be an issue for him to face. It shouldn’t be you in the throes of corruption, screaming and tearing at him like an animal as your senses fled you body.

You were supposed to outlive him. The scales of nature were stacked unmistakably in your favor.

Tears wet your cheeks, but they didn’t belong to you. Hot and salty tears poured down his face as his breath stuttered. Everything about this was wrong, like his worst nightmares spawning into a hellish reality as he begged any god that might exist for an easy way out, begged you for forgiveness, for you to answer him with that same gentle smile that was reserved just for quiet moments with him.

Apologies burned him from the inside out, like venom on his tongue as he peeled your hands off of him and backed away. His hands trembled so violently he could scarcely nock an arrow, his entire body weak. His vision swam, whether it was from the ether corruption that had dinned his hearing or from the tears that didn’t seem to stop he wasn’t sure.

His lip quivered, breathing unsteady as he stared down at you, your form clawing at the earth before pushing shakily onto your knees. You moved more like a marionette than a human, the skin on your neck crumbling under a sheen of black as the core began to manifest.

Mournful cries dripped from your cyanotic lips as a hand extended in his direction. It was a moment of lucidity, fingers flexing against the veins of corruption under your flesh.

“Haru, I’m so s-sorry.”

The arrow whistled sharply as his fingers released the bowstring.

They both sat on the table on your side of the bed, the metal cold and lifeless under his dull gaze.

“Asaba, I know this is hard, but there are people who you can talk to. That can help you.” The voice of Yanagi echoed from the answering machine in the hallway. He let his cellphone die weeks ago.

“We are just worried about you. Please, call me back.”

Your favorite coffee cup still sat beside the pot in the kitchen, the rim stained pink from your favorite lipstick. Your toothbrush still sat in the cup beside his, your shampoo still in the shower. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb the bag hanging in the closet, you didn’t want him to spoil the surprise of the dress you bought in excitement at the prospect of going out to dinner after all.

His medicine bottles sat empty in the bathroom trashcan, the contents lost to the sewers of New Eridu by now.

His lungs heaved tiredly, a deep wheeze whistling in the back of his throat. His vision never stopped swimming, even after he carried you out of the Hollow, an arrow embedded between your glossy eyes as your blood stained his clothes.

His thumb pressed the space between your eyebrows, your nose wrinkling, eyes warm as you stared at him from your side of the bed, hair fanned across your cheeks.

“Haru, it’s not good for you to lay around all the time.” You whispered, leaning into his touch as his hand drifted to cup your cheek, thumb teasing your lower lip before you pressed a kiss to the pad.

“Get up, you need to eat.”

He knew it wasn’t real, that you weren’t real, but he smiled like you were anyways. Like your lips were warm as you leaned in and brushed them against his, like there was weight behind the pull of your hands as he rolled out of bed for the first time in days.

There was a ring cut to your size, and for a little while longer he would pretend it was nestled on your finger.

Rey 2024, crossposted to ao3

#asaba harumasa #zenless zone zero #zzz harumasa #harumasa x reader #zzz #zzz x reader #harumasa zzz

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onceonafullmoon · 2 days ago

Text

Mirror

Rin x GN!Reader

Comfort Angst, experiences of anxiety attacks, Reader and Rin are both kind of obsessive lmao, some threats of violence but nothing happens, established relationship and also merry christmas though this fic has nothing to do with that!!

“Speak for yourself. I’m perfectly logical.” He eventually retorts. You actually laugh at that, though it definitely sounds weak and shaky even to your own ears. “…stupid.” You say with a fond smile. “At least I can be honest with myself.”

It’s a sunny day as you watch your boyfriend on the field, his figure distant as you sit in the stands, watching him practice. The birds are chirping, a few fluffy clouds decorate the sky and the temperature is mild if not a bit warm… it’s a beautiful day.

And you’re pissed off.

Not at him, almost never at him despite his oftentimes abrasive and harsh demeanor. But then again, you’ve always been exceptionally lenient when it comes to Rin.

No, the reason you’re pissed off isn’t because of Rin, rather it’s because of your own issues, your own stewing jealousy when a particularly pretty girl happened to confess her feelings to your handsome boyfriend in the form of a note in his locker.

Obviously, he rejected her, in that blunt way of his, but even then you couldn’t help but notice how he took the time to make sure he rejected her in person, still respecting her feelings despite the fact that he didn’t return them.

And it really shouldn’t bother you… but you’ve always been, unhinged, to say the least.

It’s hard to explain exactly, but, when it comes to the people in your life, when it comes to hobbies you have, anything that you’re passionate about, you tend to get absorbed in those things in a rather unhealthy way.

Like that time you dropped all your plans to cheer up your best friend when she was only mildly upset, or that time you watched a series and then made it your entire personality for a month straight… you’ve always been a tad obsessive.

And when it comes to you, it feels more juvenile to feel this way.

It’s hard to explain, but you’ve always been more emotionally honest than Rin, and for that reason you feel like you come off as more needy.

Or maybe that means you’re more emotionally mature.

Or not.

You don’t know, you hate going in circles like this, pacing around in your own mind. Sometimes you wonder if you were more like Rin and ignored your feelings it would be less annoying. But you suppose that self awareness is one of your strengths.

Although, you have to admit, self awareness is also a curse when you have to deal with your own negative emotions rather than having a philosophical discussion, which brings you back to your conflicting feelings.

You don’t like being jealous, no one does, but you feel especially icky about the types of thoughts it brings. You don’t like the fact that your first thought towards this girl was so negative, you don’t like the fact that you feel like a worse person because of that and you don’t like the fact that a very primal part of you wants to march over onto that field and kiss your boyfriend senseless for no reason other than to see his swollen lips afterwards.

Normally, you’d have no problem talking about your feelings with Rin, as emotionally closed off and brash as he is, but something about this makes you feel like you want to stick your head into a hole in the ground, much like an ostrich. Or, to put it plainly, you’re a mess and you’re losing your mind trying not to implode with all your emotions.

Imploding can wait though, you’ll dissect this when you get home, right now you’ll throw on a smile and talk to your boyfriend who you are most certainly not creating scenarios of sneaking off with this pretty girl with her stupid pretty smile and her dumbass cute hairstyle–

Right.

No imploding.

You sigh and shake your head, looking back at the field, watching as Rin begins to wrap up his practice and take that as your cue to make your way over to him after you hop off of your seat in the risers.

As you near him you can make out his features more distinctly, the sharp curve of his jaw, the length of his under lashes, the pretty teal of his eyes… he’s stupidly handsome as always, and it makes you feel even more ticked off, though you do your best to suppress those thoughts.

“Hey, you.” You say with a smile, picking up his water bottle from the bench and tossing it his way as if practiced, and he catches it with ease, popping the cap off to take a drink, his eyes meeting yours.

To this day, you can’t tell if you hate making eye contact with him or if you adore it.

“...Hey.” He answers after swallowing, his gaze darting across your form.

You’re not entirely sure what he’s searching for, but you hope he doesn’t notice anything different in your demeanor.

“I’d say you did good out there but I’d be lying if I implied I knew what I was looking for.” You say, in your usual slightly self-deprecating demeanor.

He scoffs, his eyes rolling slightly. “You don’t need to know anything, it’s me.”

Cocky bastard.

“That’s annoyingly cool of you to say.” You say with a small laugh. “I need to learn some one liners like that from you.”

“I wouldn’t bother trying.” He retorts, pushing his hair back in a move that nearly makes you choke on your saliva from how annoyingly good he looks before speaking again. “...how was your day?”

“Fine.” You answer almost too quickly, before pausing to elaborate.

“Just a regular day I mean, nothing extraordinary happened, unless you count the amount of times that I watched someone trip over that crack on the sidewalk.”

Rin furrows his brow. “What crack?”

“You haven’t seen it? It’s like right outside the window in homeroom, like right by the tree.”

“...is that what you’ve been paying attention to? Not the goddamn teacher?”

“Only sometimes! Besides, I’ve seen like five people almost eat shit, it’s entertaining in it’s own right.”

“You’re hopeless, this is the reason–”

You sigh. “Look, my grades are fine, I’m fine, let’s just move on instead of turning this into another stupid “see this is why you should focus more” speeches.”

He tilts his head at you, squinting like you’ve grown two heads, and you feel both annoyed and weirdly vulnerable under his analytical gaze.

“What?” You ask, almost defensively.

“You…” He says with a small frown. “What’s wrong with you?”

You laugh, though it sounds more like a scoff, and this time it’s more out of a sense of disbelief. “Wow, okay, rude. Do you want my therapist’s notes or something, jackass?”

Immediately after the words leave your mouth you feel yourself regretting them. They’re juvenile, stupid and childish and you can feel your face grow warm.

Great, you can’t even pretend right, what good are you?

His eyes narrow. “Maybe I do, maybe that’ll help me understand why you’re acting like–”

“Like a bitch?” You interrupt.

Oh gods. What are you doing? What is this?

He blinks at you, as if taken aback by your suggestion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You close your mouth, feeling everything bubble up again inside you, the jealousy, the insecurities, the annoyance, the embarrassment, all of it is swirling inside you and suddenly it just feels like you’re choking on the weight of all of it, like it’s stuck in your throat.

It’s silent for a while, his hard gaze boring into you while you stand there, feeling like a complete idiot, chewing on your tongue while you try to find the will to speak.

He sighs then, breaking the silence between the two of you before speaking again. “...talk to me.”

And you do. You do want to talk to him, whether it’s to brush him off, or to open up, anything would be fine, you just want to speak. But you can’t.

There are too many thoughts, too many things piling up, but you just need to speak, just speak, speak–

He furrows his brow at the continued silence. “...if you have a problem, tell me, but if you’re just going to be childish and give me the silent treatment then this conversation is over.”

Childish? You’re not childish, you just can’t talk, it’s not your fault–

Is it?

Is it your fault?

Gods who are you kidding, of course it’s your fault, you can’t even fucking talk how pathetic is that? No wonder he’s looking at other girls you can barely even hold a goddamn conversation, not to mention, she’s so pretty and you’re not– maybe if you could just write some words down– but fucking hell you’re so childish, he’s right, you’re not ready for a relationship– all you have to do is say something– he must fucking hate you–

It’s only when you have to take a breath that you remember where you are, and Rin is staring at you with a look you haven’t seen before.

Shocked maybe?

But you don’t think you’ve done anything shocking, until you feel a warm tear roll down your face.

Ah shoot. You’re actually a moron, you’re crying. In front of him.

Come on, raise your hand, wipe away your tears, you’re fine.

Move your fucking hand.

Move.

Just do something. Don’t just stand there.

You take a breath, wiping away your tears with your hand.

Good. Now speak.

“...” You part your lips shakily to speak. “I–”

A sob escapes your lips and you slap your hand over your mouth and turn away from him, letting the tears just stream down your face.

“Shit.” Rin says softly from behind you, and you distantly think that if you were watching from an outsider's perspective that this would be hilarious.

Okay, stop, calm down, breathe. You’re fine.

You let out another muffled sob as your breathing runs ragged.

Okay, no, you’re not fine.

“(Name).” Rin says, in a tone so soft you’re almost taken by surprise, and you can feel his presence behind you, closer than before.

He places his hand on your shoulder and gently turns you back to face him, and you notice through watery eyes that his water bottle is back on the bench. You’re not sure why you notice that, but you think it's because you can’t stand to make eye contact right now.

“Listen to me.” He murmurs, his voice soft yet firm. “Breathe slowly, in and out, okay?”

Right. You can do that. In and out.

It takes a few breaths, but eventually you manage to get to the point where your breathing is less rapid, and it’s then that you muster the courage to look him in the eyes again.

It’s a small relief to you that you don’t see any judgment in his eyes, just concern.

“...what’s wrong (Name)?”

It takes you a bit to respond, but you’re finally able to speak after you pull your hand from your mouth, looking at his water bottle again.

“...I’m… ashamed.” You say quietly, and the admission feels like you’re being stabbed in the gut.

“Ashamed?” Rin asks, furrowing his brow again. “Why are you ashamed?”

You don’t even want to begin to explain yourself, but you figure you might as well just get it over with.

“... that girl, she confessed to you. I was jealous– I am jealous, and I feel stupid, because it’s embarrassing and I feel immature.”

He looks at you for a moment, really looks at you and then scoffs.

“You’re…” He pauses and then looks at you, seemingly thinking better of his words before speaking again with a sigh. “...you’re too harsh on yourself.”

You simply shake your head. “No, it’s dumb, and I was mean to you and I was mean to that girl in my head and I shouldn’t have–”

“Then what about me?” He asks sharply.

“What?” You respond, looking back at him again, confusion taking over.

“I–” He starts before huffing out a breath, his cheeks turning pink as he looks away. “You think I’m any better? At least you have the decency to be ashamed.”

You blink, the quiet settling around you.

Well, thinking on it now, it’s not like you’re the only one who’s like that, you’re no stranger to how Rin methodically practices his skills everyday, the way his eyes narrow into a glare when he sees his brother on screen, how he scoffs at your best friend when she hugs you in greeting… he’s just as bad as you, isn’t he?

Obsessive.

Jealous.

“…we’re so silly, aren’t we?” You ask, breaking the silence between the two of you. “So intense all the time, so needlessly absorbed, too emotional… You’re everything I despise about myself, but I don’t hate you. Aren’t we so strange?”

Rin looks at you finally, a complicated look on his face, flickering through emotions.

“Speak for yourself. I’m perfectly logical.” He eventually retorts.

You actually laugh at that, though it definitely sounds weak and shaky even to your own ears.

“…stupid.” You say with a fond smile. “At least I can be honest with myself.”

You look at him for a moment.

“I like to think I’m good with words, at least when I’m not crying, but there’s so much I want to tell you that I can’t say in the way I want to… what on earth can I say to you?”

Rin looks at you, eyes boring into yours, but you can’t seem to find yourself to be intimidated this time. “Dumbass, you don’t need to say anything.”

You look at him, at his stupidly sweet soul that he tries to hide with harsh words, and let out a soft huff, uncharacteristically frustrated.

“…sometimes I want to hurt you, because you make me feel so much. I could rip you apart.”

Rin’s eyes widen, as if surprised by your words, and briefly you fear that you might have overstepped, before his eyes harden into a steely gaze.

“Idiot… you think you’re the only one who feels that way?”

You blink at his words, not expecting his response, much less how surprisingly honest it is.

It’s… This is new.

You expect him to recoil from your words, from your emotions, from you. You expect him to leave. But his response, his understanding, it makes you so… emotional.

You take in a shaky breath, tearing up again.

His reaction to that is instantaneous, his eyes widening in shock, a flicker of regret in his gaze. A beat of silence lapses between you two before he speaks, his tone regretful.

“(Name)… I didn’t mean—”

“No.” You say immediately, though your voice is still shaky as you blink harshly.

“Don’t apologize. And don’t take it back.” You speak, your voice cracking. “I’m not scared. You get me, I get you… we’re a mess, but I’ll never find someone like you, and I don’t want to.”

You take a breath to steady yourself, before speaking again.

“I’m gonna say something, and you don’t have to say it back.” You say, before speaking again, your voice soft but firm. “...I love you.”

You’re not sure what possessed you to say it, those words that have been lurking in you for so long, and you for a moment, seeing his startled face, you wonder if you might have scared him off, if you were moving too fast, or maybe–

“Dumbass.” He says with a soft scoff before cupping your face and pulling you into a kiss.

It’s always so tongue heavy with Rin, and you’ve had to coax him in the past to appreciate a sweet, chaste kiss every once in a while, but you find this time you don’t mind this time as he desperately presses his lips against yours.

It’s his own way of saying it back to you.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock angst #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk rin #blue lock rin #aka: when the author realized she had a lot of things in common with rin #happy holidays cuties <3

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vmqires · 3 days ago

Text

sorrow. (l.hs)

pairing. ex! hee x fem reader ❦︎ exes to lovers ; non-idol au, a bit of angst n fluff. wc. 986 synopsis. heeseung’s forced to break up w u but the two of u never move on from each other.

a/n: this took so long, i was seriously debating deleting this and quitting forever LMAO but thankfully the amazing @soadparker (aka vic) gave me some ideas n that encouraged me to finish it >< this was obviously inspired by sorrow - flyleaf, which i totally recommend to listen to while reading.

sometimes life seems to quiet into paralyzing silence.

“what do you mean? you want to break up?” your eyes start to tear up.

“y/n.. it’s just not working out anymore.” heeseung looks away, fidgeting with his hands.

“what? what happened? what went wrong?” you stare at him in disbelief. just a few days ago he was in your arms, whispering that you’re his safe place and now he wants to break up?

“nothing went wrong. i just.. i need some time, for myself.” he gets up from the couch, looking at you one last time before leaving.

truth is heeseung didn’t want to break up with you. but after a very long argument with his very strict family, they forced him to. it broke him seeing you like that.

someone so perfect, heartbroken all because his family couldn’t stand the sight of you and him together.

i’ll take this piece of you, and hope for all eternity.

his parents constantly introduced him to girls that they thought were absolutely perfect for him. every time he went on a date with one of them, they all seem to fall short compared to you.

he misses you, a lot. hoping for one day his parents will back off, also hoping you don’t find someone new, someone maybe even.. better.

after a month since he broke up with you, you went to your best friend who comforted you.. just in a different way.

“get up, let’s go to the club.” she says, looking at you crying.

“the club? seriously? i’m heartbroken and you’re suggesting the club?” your friend rolls her eyes.

“he’s just a bump in the road amongst other bumps you’ll encounter. it’s not the end of the world.” you scoff, holding your pillow tighter. “he’s not a bump, he’s a mountain i can’t cross over.”

she sucks her teeth at your dramatic response. “girl shut the fuck up.”

he knew each tear before it came.

few months pass and you feel like you’re healing. seeing a new guy and although deep down somewhere in your heart you wish he was heeseung, you settle.

“babe! ready to go?” your new boyfriend yells from the kitchen. “just a sec!” you grab your keys and phone. today’s heeseung’s birthday, your calendar app reminds you.

as your boyfriend drives, you can’t help but think about heeseung and the many birthdays the two of you spent together. one specific comes to mind.

“open your eyes.” heeseung whispers in your ear. when you do, you’re met with a fort made of blankets, pillows, your favorite snacks and a projector playing your favorite movie.

that week had been hard for you. your manager at work on your ass, fighting with your parents again, grades falling behind, all you wanted to do was lay in his arms and the best of all, he knew that.

he knew you like no other. you tear up, and heeseung wipes it away as he cups your face.

“i know you had a hard week and i just want you to relax for your birthday so, i completed a few homework assignments and i called your parents.” you immediately pull him into a hug, a much needed hug.

just like the one you need right now. instead of heeseung, the wind wipes your tear away and your new boyfriend glances at you as he drives.

“everything okay?” you lift your head, giving him a weak smile.

“yeah everything’s fine.” he nods and smiles at you too.

if it were heeseung he would’ve already pulled over and pulled you onto his lap to whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

and we kiss each other one more time.

heeseung was drowning. he needed an out and now. he wanted to text you, to see you again. god his heart ached every time he thought about you.

how the two of you would have fights but would never go to sleep angry at each other, how much he fell for you everyday, how you would snuggle closer to him.

the thoughts become overbearing and soon enough, he chooses you. over his family, over everything because you are his everything. he finally leaves home without a word or a letter.

as he settles into his new place, he debates calling you.

you, on the other hand, end up breaking up with your boyfriend after realizing maybe a part of you is still in love with heeseung. (you totally are.)

the week after that breakup, you head out to the city. window shopping, walking around, just to clear your head.

heeseung just so happened to be doing the same thing. minding his own business, going about his afternoon. then he stops in his tracks, eyes widen with tears threatening to spill out.

“y/n…” he lets out in a whisper, now almost sprinting towards you. you notice him, as soon as he takes you into his embrace. your world narrows down to just to two of you, like it used to. you pull away first.

“heeseung?” he immediately tears up again.

“i’m so sorry y/n. im so sorry for leaving you.” his heart is on fire, praying you’d take him back. “please let me make it up to you. let me explain everything.”

your own eyes start to water, smiling at him. “please..” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

without a doubt, you wrap your arms around his neck and pressed your lips on his. the kiss is gentle, full of warmth and love. your love.

“so is that a yes?” he murmurs against your lips then you laugh softly, pulling back. “yes. it’s a yes.” you reply, knowing your heart will always and forever be his, his alone.

just like his heart is yours.

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sanjisleggy · 18 hours ago

Text

the warlord’s wife (mihawk x reader)

req: Oh if you want to you should do a Mihawk x reader (fem or gn) that's hurt comfort where the reader is like the exact opposite of him. Like she is usually so happy and sweet and kind. And something happens and maybe she starts to worry that she is too much for Mihawk because he is just someone who is quiet and to himself all the time and she thinks she is constantly bothering him

a/n: ahhh my first attempt at writing for Mihawk! a much shorter fic compared to my others but i hope you guys like it nonetheless :3c i’d love to write longer fics for him if anyone has any ideas yippee

contents: rude people (lol), insecure!fem!reader, simp!Mihawk, a tiny bit of angst, some hurt/comfort, fluff :3c

wc. 1k

wanna be on my taglist?

—

standing outside the large ornate doors, you feel your face burn with embarrassment as you contemplate simply going to the docks to wait out by the hitsugibune until the gala ends. as tempting as escaping from the horrific social situation sounds right now, your pride refuses to let you bow your head in defeat.

”i don’t know how else to convince you,” you try to appeal to the two marines standing guard outside the venue entrance once more, “if you could just ask him to verify my identity—”

”i’m sorry, miss,” the larger man of the two cuts you off with a less than apologetic look. “there’s just no reason why we should do as you say. if we listened to every man or woman demanding to go in, we’d lose our heads.”

your indignance and frustration quickly bubbles into pure anger and for a brief moment you lament having left your katana back at the castle. you bite your tongue, unable to think of any other way to convince the marine officers that you are, indeed, a guest who’d been invited to the gala because you’re literally one of the Warlords’ wives.

“besides,” the other officer chips in unprompted, “no offence but you don’t seem like the type of woman someone like Dracule Mihawk would marry.” his partner fails to hold back a scoff but quickly attempts to return his expression back into one of neutral professionalism.

clenching your fists by your sides, you try your very hardest to keep your eyes from tearing up for the second time tonight. normally such a comment wouldn’t phase you—years of being Mihawk’s partner has done wonders for thickening your skin—right now, though, you can’t help but feel a familiar sharp stinging sensation pierce through your chest.

of all the snarky comments you marine dogs decide to make, why this one?

ii.

it had only been an hour into the gala and already you regretted begging your husband, just weeks prior, to consider attending with you as his guest. the event was a grand one held by the marines every year to “show their appreciation” towards their allies, which included the Seven Warlords; and every year the invite would show up at your doorstep only to be promptly thrown out by your introverted husband.

”can we please go? i miss going for social events like these.” you’d pleaded that night in bed, hugging his arm tightly as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck—a move he liked to call ‘playing dirty. “just this once to see what it’s like, then i’ll never ask again.”

both you and Mihawk knew it was a lie but the swordsman was nothing if not a simp for you so he begrudgingly agreed.

”care to elaborate why?” you challenge, taking the two marines aback if their surprised expressions are anything to go by. clearly not used to ‘civilians’ talking back to them, they take a moment to gather their thoughts—and at least have enough decency to look embarrassed at being called out.

”w-well—”

“your wife is such a chatterbox! it’s a wonder you’ve tolerated her for as long as you have!”

”your husband is whom? forgive me, i find that hard to believe.”

”i thought he was some kind of recluse?”

”maybe it was an arranged marriage. how scandalous.”

”i pity the poor man. all my husband does is talk and it drives me insane some days.”

”darling?” a deep familiar voice calls out from behind you, accompanied by the sound of heeled shoes clicking against stone. before you can turn around, you feel his warm hand rest itself on your shoulder, the comforting heat of his body engulfing you from behind. “i’ve been looking for you.”

the blood drains from both the marine officers’ faces, their eyes widening in shock as it dawns on them what a mistake they’ve just made. as though pleading for mercy, the eyes of the larger man flickers in your direction, almost screaming: “please, i’m too young to die.”

”were these men giving you trouble?” Mihawk probes gently, using his other hand to tilt your head in his direction. the moment his eyes meet your own and widen ever so slightly, you know there’s no point lying. as much as you’ve been able to hold back your tears of frustration well enough to fool the average man, your husband is anything but average.

mouths still agape, the marine officers can do nothing but watch as the notorious swordsman proceeds to cup your face with his right hand in a manner so tender they can’t help but suspect he’s an imposter. unbothered by the unbelieving stares sent his way, Mihawk brushes his thumb under your eye as though to confirm his suspicion.

”they were but it’s okay now,” you finally reply, placing your hand over his to hold it in place as you relish in the comforting warmth of his palm.

”what did you do to my wife?” he disregards your subtle plea for peacemaking. he knows you well enough to infer that you simply don’t want him to make a scene for the sake of maintaining his public image.

Mihawk’s aware of how much you actually enjoy silently watching him defend your pride and honour; and he also knows from experience how happily you’ll reward him with your honeyed words and sweet touches later tonight, when it’s just the two of you alone together. it concerns him, slightly, if he were to be honest, how easily you have him wrapped around your finger—but that’s something to think about another day.

the marines stutter and stammer but nothing coherent leaves their lips, all linguistic ability fading into nothing under the angered gaze of the Warlord.

”be thankful my beloved is as kind as she is,” the swordsman warns, all the while maintaining his hardened glare. “know that had she not vouched for you two, i’d have no problem killing you right where you stand.”

—

taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x yn #one piece x you #op x reader #op #fanfic #imagine #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort

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pillowspace · 7 hours ago

Note

Thoughts on isat's one hat ending? It doesn't get talked about enough but it has a lot of angst potential for post-canon

I find it so tragic that after Siffrin's outbursts against everyone, he gets the chance to apologize and make amends for all of it... except for with one person. Siffrin will always know that Loop did their best to help him even after he went into the House in Act 5, but the last thing he will have ever personally interacted with Loop was him telling them "curse you, Loop," so perhaps knowing that Loop still tried to help him after he said all that is just worse.

It's hard to think about just how little comfort Loop had when they likely faded away. They'd seen the Party, sure, but nobody recognized them. Siffrin wasn't there to say nice things- and why would Loop have expected them to? The interaction with the Party must have left them very stressed, the closest thing they even had to a friend(? conversation partner?) lashed out at them then beat the loops so what's even the point in Helpful Loop anymore, Siffrin couldn't convince them of the fact that he wouldn't have been able to escape if it weren't for Loop so Loop might not realize just how integral they were, etc. etc. etc...

But what do you do when you can feel yourself fading away? Do you just try to... accept all the injustices the Universe has placed upon you? Try to find some sort of peace but in the wrong direction? Do you settle into the idea that you were simply born to fail because you don't want to die angry?

I also think that, should a reunion occur, that in itself would be fascinating. Does Loop seek out Siffrin, not because they think it's a good idea, but just because they need to know what he has now? Does Siffrin take their time to give Loop the apology and gratitude that they deserve, grateful that he even can? Does Loop still want to replace Siffrin (here's a fic about that)? Does Loop tell Siffrin who they are? If they don't, does the Party figure it out before Siffrin even does? What if Loop had their pre-star human head, what then? Do they still seek out Siffrin even then? Would Siffrin even recognize who they are? It'd be their first time seeing Siffrin after the Party didn't recognize them, why not throw Siffrin into the mix now

I think one hat is fascinating <3

#isat spoilers #in stars and time spoilers #ask

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calimanc · 1 day ago

Text

POANG Pals Secret Santa 2024 Fic Recs

For my Secret Santa, @unremarkablehouse who loves lighthearted and comfort MSR set during the original run. I have combed through my secret Ao3 bookmarks to give you a fic rec list for the next year. 52 in total, one for each week. They don't all fit the brief exactly, there are touches of angst and UST and more than a few go beyond Requiem. But they are all wonderful stories that I hope very much that you will enjoy. With thanks to @lilydalexf , whose format for fic recs I have used as the gold standard.

For @unremarkablehouse , a fic about life in your namesake.

Title: Home, Home

Author: onpaperfirst @onpaperfirst

Summary: post-the truth, pre-iwtb, weirdo domesticity

where seldom is heard a discouraging word, and the skies are not cloudy all day

Length: 4,699

Classification: MSR

Rating: Not Rated

Spoilers: post original run

Favorite line: He came back with a Charlie Brown Christmas tree, a red and green tree stand in a box, and some candy canes. There were eleven in the package and one in his mouth.

---------------------------------

Leading Conversations

An oldie but goodie that isn’t on Ao3. Does what it says on the tin!

Title: Chess

Author: Cecily_Sass @cecilysass

Summary: Friday night. Mulder and Scully play chess.

Length: 4,300 ish

Classification: UST, MSR

Rating: T

Spoilers:

Favorite line: "Scully," he said. "Are we lovers?"

---------------------------------

A conversation about hypotheticals evolves. Very lovely getting on the same page fic.

Title: A Perfect Storm

Author: ChaneenW

Summary: Inspired by their undercover assignment as a married couple, Mulder tries to find out what Scully wants in a husband.

Length: 3,000

Classification: MSR

Rating: T

Spoilers: Arcadia

Favorite line: “I did think of that, Scully, but she doesn’t seem to like my kindergarten antics much, either—hypothetically speaking, of course.”

---------------------------------

A great fic from Thursday that sees them talking their way towards each other.

Title: in conclusion

Author: thursdayinspace @thursdayinspace

Summary: “What were you thinking about?” she asks

He lets out a small laugh. “I was thinking about…you know. Human connections. What they are and how we define them. And why we need to put them into neat little categories that we specifically make up for them. Don’t you ever just wonder what makes relationships – any kinds of relationships – what they are?”

It's the middle of the night in a freezing cold motel room and they both haven't slept. The best time and place to figure out how relationships work -- theirs in particular.

Length: 3,370

Classification: MSR

Rating: T

Spoilers:

Favorite line: “You want to have an ontological discussion about romantic relationships at almost 1 a.m. in a freezing cold motel room after we both haven’t slept for a week?”

“Yes.”

"Any chance I can talk you out of it?"

"How long have we known each other?"

"I withdraw the question." She lets out a long breath.

---------------------------------

A much more recent conversation from Cecily, talking themselves into getting there.

Title: Negotiation

Author: cecily_sass @cecilysass

Summary: “You know, I hear they’re more than just partners,” Mulder offers in a conversational tone.

“Who?”

“Gillis and Perez,” Mulder says, cracking open a sunflower seed, gesturing out the front windshield. “That’s the water cooler gossip, anyway.”

Surprising conversation waiting in a car.

Length: 1,894

Classification: MSR

Rating: NR

Spoilers:

Favorite line: She lifts her head, and there are indeed tears pooling in the corners of her clear blue eyes. “Don’t you know me at all? Haven’t you been paying any attention?”

---------------------------------

Really lovely fic imagining that Scully’s reeling off of “magic” terms on the phone in Chinga was actually her quoting from a published article of Mulder’s.

Title: Upon the Yearly Renewal of JSTOR Accounts

Author: viridianvelvet

Summary: Mulder knows what it means to memorize someone's work. Post-Chinga.

Length: 1,184 words

Classification: MSR

Rating: G

Spoilers: post Chinga

Favorite line: If anyone deserves to hear the words aloud, it is Fox Mulder. Mulder, whose sharp edges ought to exist, but which have been burnished by the sheer, utter regard he has for all that is Good and Right in the world.

---------------------------------

Sweet fluffy fic, Scully gets hurt and Mulder gets hit by just how much he loves her.

Title: A Minor Inconvenience

Author: spooky_nerd @spooky-nerd

Summary: In which Scully gets hurt on the job and Mulder loses what's left of his sanity, probably.

Length: 2,045 words

Classification: MSR, hurt/comfort

Rating: G

Spoilers: none

Favorite line: "If this causes any temporary memory lapses, I apologize in advance," she says. Last month she'd forgotten his birthday and, unrelated, the fact that he did not like sausage on his pizza. That realization had come once she'd fully recovered, and she'd made it up to him by taking him to a viewing of 'The Thing' at a small art house theater and treating him to a 16-inch, sausage-free pizza afterwards.

---------------------------------

Post-ep First Times

A very sweet, soft post Pilot first time fic.

Title: Lost Together

Author: MarjorieWilliams

Summary: Scully and Mulder come together after Bellefleur, lost but not alone.

Length: 1,803

Classification: MSR

Rating: M

Spoilers: Pilot

Favorite line: She turned her hand in his, and their fingers laced together like pieces of a precision-made puzzle.

He stood, tugging her with him, and guided her to his bed.

---------------------------------

Hoo boy. Extremely hot Ice replacement for the inspection scene.

Title: what does it take (to get you off)

Author: coppersunlight @mulderno

Summary: Anyone else would likely regard her resulting gasp as nothing more than an expression of surprise, but this is Fox Mulder—star profiler, and prodigious interpreter of all things Scully.

“You liked that?” he asks quietly, dangerously—a skilled observation disguised in the tone of a question.

Inspired by the question, "How does Scully feel when he bends down like that to get directly in her face" during the supply closet scene in Ice, and by Scully's highly incriminating gasp in Never Again.

Length: 3,353

Classification: MSR, first time

Rating: E

Spoilers: Ice

Favorite line: He nibbles at the lobe of her ear. “You like this,” he repeats, his tone cocksure, definitive, fascinated.

---------------------------------

I’ve got this bookmarked as a great post The End first time with Gibson being a little chaos agent.

Title: Enders Switch

Author: gypsymuse

Summary: What do you do when everything you are lies in ashes at your feet? Post-ep for The End (5X20).

Length: 14,046

Classification: MSR, adventure

Rating: M

Spoilers: The End

Favorite line: He drove easily, left hand on the wheel, right hand fiddling with the radio, a soda bottle, my knee. Still rumpled from our abortive romp, his hair was spiky, his shirt wrinkled, in all resembling the unmade bed we left behind. Nothing and no one has ever looked better to me. My feeling for him was so enormous I wondered that I could contain it.

---------------------------------

Hot off the presses, an absolutely lovely post-ep first time for How the Ghosts Stole Christmas. Roz blesses us with fic as well as art!

Title: O Holy Night

Author: rosenkranz_isnt_dead @rosenkranz-isnt-dead

Summary: When Mulder decided to go ghost hunting, being insulted by said ghosts was not what he had in mind. But they were right, he had dragged her into a haunted house with him, and he had stolen her car keys. Instead of spreading holiday cheer, she nearly died because of him. Again.

Length: 3,075

Classification: MSR

Rating: M

Spoilers: How the Ghosts Stole Christmas

Favorite line: Scully, he thinks, all coherent thoughts abandoning him except for her dear, familiar name. Scully.

---------------------------------

First time fic post Monday. Beautiful day by day build up until he finally kisses her and the dam breaks.

Title: The Next Week

Author: SlippinMickeys @slippinmickeys

Summary: She’s placid in his bed. Warm, willing. She has a sleepy smile on her face and the morning sunlight coming through the window catches on her carmine hair, practically burns his eyes.

Length: 2,962

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers: post-Monday, pre-Arcadia

Favorite line: “I…” He starts, but how do you tell your partner of almost 7 years that that you’re insanely in love with them and have been since almost day one and would they mind terribly if you fucked their brains out because that’s all you want to do whenever they’re within a foot of you?

---------------------------------

Post Milagro first time fic, he takes care of her and she lets him.

Title: Hearts Entwined

Author: Donna

Summary: In response to a challenge

Length: 3,429

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers: Milagro

Favorite line: "Shh. Just lean on me." He stepped into the shower wearing only his boxers and let the warm water envelop them. She rested her head on his chest and made no protest.

---------------------------------

She counts their kisses and it leads to their first time in this absolutely lovely post Millenium fic from Sagan_Starstuff.

Title: Counting

Author: sagan_starstuff @sagan-starstuff

Summary: What happens when Mulder and Scully leave the hospital after New Years 2000?

Length: 7,338

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers: Millenium

Favorite line: Sometimes he's so obtuse she wants to shake him. “I love you. Don’t tell me I don’t need to say it - I get to decide that, and you , Mulder, deserve to hear it. You deserve love.”

---------------------------------

Beautiful first time all things, acknowledging the depth of want and feeling as well as the inherent complications in their relationship.

Title: Stay

Author: Samantha1013

Summary: Mulder and Scully's first time together, from Scully's POV. Takes place between the closing and opening scenes of all things.

Length: 2,573

Classification: MSR, first time

Rating: E

Spoilers: all things

Favorite line: “Is this going to work?” He asked halting, brow furrowing.

It took her a second to comprehend. She responded flatly “Yes Mulder, the vagina is one of the most malleable and fastest healing organs in the body, second only to the tongue and cornea.”

---------------------------------

First Time Somewhere in Time

When I first read Regular People, I didn’t know there was a sequel and I was distraught. There’s something very quiet and beautiful here, when they have the space to breathe.

Title: Regular People and Regular People Still

Author: Chimerical1975

Summary: Thwarted Christmas plans, impulsive decisions, and unexpected visitors make two extraordinary FBI agents into regular people.Set in December, 1998. For the purposes of this story, HTGSC didn't happen.

The sequel to the story started in Regular People. We're back in 1998 where Mulder and Scully are continuing their sojourn. This leads to issues and discoveries large and small, lots of sex, some laughter, some sadness, and a touch of urgency as they are fast running out of time to be regular people.

Length: 16,724 and 36,760

Classification: MSR

Rating: M

Spoilers:

Favorite line: "I did get to go home to my family for Christmas, Mulder," she whispered.

"Scully--" Mulder started, but then he just settled on a single word as he nodded. "Yes."

---------------------------------

Scully comes over after painting her mom’s study and Mulder tells her she’s beautiful. Diz knows what she’s doing.

Title: She Tastes Like Candlelight

Author: mizdiz @xf-cases-solved

Summary: Mulder isn’t sure when exactly he fell in love with Scully.

It’s possible that there wasn’t a specific moment at all. Maybe the transition from friendship was so smooth that one day he just woke up and realized he’d been looking at Scully the same way he looked at the night sky—like an intricately tangled mystery, full of beauty and questions and Truths, of which he may never know the extent of. Somewhere along the way, she had become his greatest X-File.l

Length: 8,596

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers: post Millenium

Favorite line: Scully smiles slyly, leaning in even closer to Mulder now, and says, “so I’m hot now? I thought I was beautiful.”

“Please,” says Mulder, surprised by how low his voice registers. “You’re the smart one, you should know that the two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

---------------------------------

Mulder has to go to three therapy sessions and it ends up pushing him into truly communicating with Scully.

Title: Normal Conversations

Author: Soronia

Summary: It always bothered me that Mulder had a degree in psychology but only seemed to use it on other people. Also I know it was the 90s, but everybody in this show needed a minimum 400 years of therapy. And yes, there’s eventually sex.

Length: 10,785

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers:

Favorite line: Her face was always so transparent, and he watched it fill then with an emotion he couldn’t place at first. Not contempt, or hesitation. Her whole expression filled up with glory.

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Cute first time after they've been undercover and Scully is used to holding hands so she grabs his hand in a meeting which leads to hot first time sex later that night.

Title: Record Scratch

Author: Skinfull

Summary: After spending a month undercover posing as a married couple on a farm in Iowa, Scully is struggling to get back into the non married view of her relationship with Mulder.

Length: 12,156

Classification: MSR, first time

Rating: E

Spoilers:

Favorite line: I do the only thing a self respecting modern day woman who is desperately in love with her best friend would do. I ignore it completely.

---------------------------------

I love this writer, she delivers on very hot smut with lots of lovely happy feelings. This was the first of hers I read, I hope you like it as much as I do.

Title: I’m on Fire

Author: Spark_a_Flame1013

Summary: A casual night out turns into everything.

Length: 5,754

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers:

Favorite line: “Agent Scully?”

They both turned and there stood an agent from white collar crimes. Agent Jones? Johnson? Jordan? Mulder couldn’t remember but figured it would be in the police report after he broke the guy’s jaw for probably destroying the moment. All the man said, though, was “Don’t forget your bag.” He nodded to the table where Scully's purse and suit jacket still sat. She went to get them, leaving Mulder and Agent J-something alone.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Agent J said, mildly, “You lucky fucking bastard.”

---------------------------------

Emily But Not Tragic

One of the author’s tags is “speedrunning two whole seasons of mulder character development as one does” so there you have it.

Title: the driver’s side door and other affairs of the heart

Author: cabbagesandqueens @benoitblanc

Summary: There is no casket full of sand, and Mulder gets out of the car.

Length: 2,970

Classification: MSR

Rating: G

Spoilers: Emily

Favorite line: The X-Files, his X-Files, have always been about lost little girls and the people they leave behind.

---------------------------------

Oh so sweet scenes of Emily in their lives. Read when you need to fill your heart with some joy.

Title: close to knowing

Author: o666666 @o6666666

Summary: Vignettes about Mulder and Emily, and Mulder and Scully, in (mostly) nonchronological order.

Length: 8,831

Classification: MSR

Rating: T

Spoilers: Emily AU, Kitsunegari

Favorite line: As they return to the car, Scully watches a toddler girl across the street trip on the pavement. The baby cries, and her father picks her up.

“Mulder, pick me up,” Emily asks, having followed Scully’s gaze. “Pick me up, please?”

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William, At Home

This was from Fictober this year. Four separate stories, all of them lovely. She hooked me with the first one. For when you need warm fuzzies.

Title: “That was good work.”

Author: Sammie1million @youreneverjustanythingtomescully

Summary: Fictober 2024

Length: 3,352

Classification: MSR

Rating: G

Spoilers: William Scully, post series kid

Favorite line: Mulder handed her the plastic submarine. "Want to help me find Nessie?" he teased, and Scully couldn't resist the playful invitation. She dipped the yellow sub into the water, watching it dive and resurface with a grin. William's eyes followed it intently, his laughter echoing off the tiles.

---------------------------------

I cannot express to you just how beautiful I find this fic. This is their family, the way it might have been.

Title: like real people do

Author: chasingfictions @chasingfictions

Summary: in which mulder is a stay at home dad, and scully is getting used to the idea that they’re allowed to be this in love.

“You know, you could run out and get diaper cream too, Mulder.”

“Ah, no can-do, Scully. We’re deep in blanket fort construction over here. And the boss is real uncompromising on the schedule. If I don’t get us to story time under a fuzzy blanket soon, my head’s on the chopping block.”

Length: 4,347

Classification: MSR

Rating: T

Spoilers: Season 9 AU where they keep William

Favorite line: But then she remembers that they are in their bed, in their home, that their son has woken up in the other room, but they can hear through the baby monitor isn’t crying yet, is only gurgling, cooing softly, she remembers that he is touching her, holding her, that he was gone and he was dead and now he is alive and warm in her bed, that he will never leave her bed again, she won’t let him. She remembers, from the way he is kissing her now, warm and hungry and loving her, his mouth on her neck, her clavicle, her shoulders, her mouth, that this is theirs. That he is hers.

---------------------------------

On the Run

I’ve got it bookmarked as “an absolute stunner.” Just a beautiful look at a period of their time on the run.

Title: A Cabin In The Woods

Author: leiascully @leiascully

Summary: Mulder and Scully, on the run, stay for a while in a cabin in the mountains in Montana. A series of interlacing vignettes.

Length: 13,768

Classification: MSR, domestic fluff

Rating: T

Spoilers: post original series, on the run

Favorite line: When they wake and dress and stretch to the extent the tent allows, frowsy with sleep and disheveled and staticky, she looks at him and feels a pang of pure, unadulterated happiness, the joy that cuts like a knife. After everything, she can still be happy, if mostly in moments like sudden beams of light on a cloudy day, Jacob’s ladders set against a backdrop of storms.

---------------------------------

Wonderful old school series where they get William back and are able to rebuild a life together as a family while fighting the future. A real comfort read for me.

Title: Ghosts series

Author: Anjou

Summary: An early December 2002 tale, originally supposed to be a drabble, totally spun out of control. A post-series 'what if' where Mulder was irrevocably altered, replicants were the new reality, and the clock was ticking down to 2012.

Length: 33,710 words over three works in the series

Classification: MSR, character death (not our main family, but there are ghosts)

Rating: G, T, M

Spoilers: Post original run

Favorite line: Mulder could feel the love pouring out of him in waves and knew he was barraging William with too much emotion, but couldn't seem to pull it back; he had never consciously acknowledged how much he wanted this, to be a family with Scully and their child. Now that he was actually confronted with what he had long hoped for, he was overcome.

"Oh," William said. He giggled, as if Mulder had tickled him. "Hi," he said to Mulder.

---------------------------------

Reunion sex that matches the wallsex gifs

Title: shaking all over

Author: kittenscully

Summary: Below her chin, the expanse of his skin is warm in the growing light. He is bedding down in her, his leg shifting to cover hers, and she knows that he could sleep, now, for awhile. But there is so much of him, heavy and beautiful and unmarked, and it’s been so long, and she doesn’t want to let him drift away.

Length: 2,222

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers: post The Truth

Favorite line: Tugging his head to the side, Scully latches onto his neck, thick tendons and the beat of his pulse. He groans, surprised. Before, he’d never liked pain, hissing even at the drag of her nails down his back. But they have both changed, and as she nips at him, his cock twitches against her leg.

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Original Run (and Beyond)

Charming pair of stories from the POV of Mulder’s neighbours who get extremely invested in the relationship between “agent Smolder” and “Sally” over the years. It’s a lot of fun.

Title: Kevin & Devin series

Author: admiralty and DanaScullyMakesMeFeelAutopsyTurvy @admiralty-xfd, @scullymakesmefeelautopsyturvy

Summary: *There was something going on between these two, or else there was something not going on, when there clearly ought to be.*

There’s never a dull moment when your neighbor is Special Agent Fox Mulder.

Length: 48,789 words over two works

Classification: MSR, humour, original characters

Rating: T, G

Spoilers: Follows along with the original run

Favorite line: Devin leaned his ear against the wall in a brazen absence of shame.

Kevin took another surreptitious glance behind him. “Devin,” he said. “That is such an invasion of-”

“I can hear them.” Devin interrupted.

Kevin’s ear was against the wall almost before Devin had finished his sentence.

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This is such a gem of a fic, wtfmulder has tagged it as “crack but kind of not” and as goofy as it sounds (they are literally looking for a big bird) it is beautiful and dreamlike and everything good. The sunglasses are a thing throughout and I just love it.

Title: big bird

Author: wtfmulder @wtfmulder

Summary: Our duo are on a journey to see a huge fucking bird. Drabble series.

Length: 11,468

Classification: early MSR, UST, casefile

Rating: G

Spoilers: season 2, post abduction arc

Favorite line: The sun touches Scully’s hair and the effect is magnificent. But it also touches her eyeballs, because Mulder is still wearing the sunglasses.

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This is just so much fun. I had the best time reading this fic. It’s season 1 so it’s not MSR as such but there is vulnerability and care.

Title: vulpes mulder

Author: eggschiptune @eggschiptune

Summary: Mulder and Scully set out to attend a conference in Oregon: simple, easy, and a chance to get away for a weekend on the FBI'S dime. Mulder has other ideas-and Scully winds up with those complicated feelings about her father resurfacing, a woman who swears she was transformed by God into a German Shepard, and a little red fox following her around with its nose in a bag of sunflower seeds.

Length: 32,630

Classification: casefile

Rating: G

Spoilers: season 1, post Beyond the Sea

Favorite line: “I don’t think I need to tell you this, but you’re a little shit. What were you thinking?”

Significantly less gentle than she could have been, Scully set the fox on Mulder’s desk. He scratched his head idly with a black foot.

“You bit the assistant director.”

The fox rolled his eyes and made a very small biting motion with his front teeth.

“What do you want me to say? You nipped the assistant director? Like that’s better?”

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This isn’t straightforward MSR, it’s a post-ep for Paper Hearts that sees Scully reflecting but for me it’s there between the lines. Just like the show. It might sting a bit but it’s beautiful and worth it.

Title: Paper Thin

Author: saintscully @therealsaintscully

Summary: She doesn’t know which scares her more: that he’ll never find the answer, or that he might.

Length: 5,167

Classification: character study, loneliness

Rating: G

Spoilers: Post Paper Hearts

Favorite line: Gone for reasons as natural as they are cruel—another casualty of a world that shows no mercy to little girls and offers no answers to those who love them.

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Short but packs a punch. They’re thick as thieves, up to shenanigans.

Title: hall of mirrors

Author: seek_its_opposite @seek-its-opposite

Summary: “Come on, Scully. Who doesn’t want to be Tom Sawyer at his own funeral?” (early season 4)

Length: 956

Classification: UST, Fluff

Rating: G

Spoilers: set in early season 4

Favorite line: Scully puts her finger to her lips and continues, “His ego is so visible I can almost watch it grow.”

Mulder feigns being shot through the heart.

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Don’t be put off by Diana! Anika makes sure everything is as it should be. I absolutely adore the detail about not wanting Mulder to be cold after their experience in Antarctica.

Title: Making Progress

Author: Baroness_Blixen @baronessblixen

Summary: Takes place during "Arcadia": Scully gets up one night to give Mulder a blanket and she catches Mulder talking to Fowley.

Length: 1,080

Classification: Fluff with a whiff of angst

Rating: G

Spoilers: Arcadia

Favorite line: He took a pillow with him, but he forgot the blanket. Whether he did it deliberately, or simply didn’t think of it, she doesn’t question. No matter how irritated she may be with him, she doesn’t want him to be cold. Even now, so many months later, she sleeps with more than one blanket herself. The fear of cold now ingrained in her bones. She doesn’t know how Mulder feels about it; one of the million things they haven’t talked about after Antarctica. She doubts they ever will. But she knows she can’t let him shiver and freeze down there on the couch, no matter what.

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Absolute married behaviour here. And a love confession. And a thwarted first kiss.

Title: Laughing Gas

Author: thatfragilecapricorn @thatfragilecapricorn30

Summary: Mulder gets dental surgery.

Length: 1,306

Classification: Humor, fluff

Rating: G

Spoilers: none

Favorite line: Mulder appeared deep in thought and then exclaimed, “The most beautiful president America has ever elected!”

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Really lovely. Five ways Triangle could have ended. The last one takes us back through FTF and sends them through Australia which gives them time to deal with the hallway.

Title: The Congruence of Triangles

Author: LibbyT @libbytxf

Summary: The final scene of Triangle, told five ways.

"It is at this moment, the moment of having felt the truth and the succor of her belief in him, that he realizes he is in love with her. He has felt every constituent part of this feeling before, the friendship, the attraction, the excitement, the certainty, the desperation, the almost irresistible urge to kiss her, but never all at once. It coalesces in a sharp and sudden realization, the obviousness of which is almost insulting to him, in a certain light. How has he never managed to articulate it to himself in this way? How has he resisted this so long?"

Length: 5,373

Classification: MSR

Rating: G

Spoilers: Triangle, FTF

Favorite line: A new nurse is on duty. “Are you family?” she asks.

“I’m his partner”, says Scully, nodding, wilfully participating in a campaign of misinformation. She does not feel the lie in it.

---------------------------------

Mulder gets trapped with Scully and Diana and realises he’s able to read their minds.

Title: Dissonance

Author: suilven @suilven19

Summary: Canon divergence during Biogenesis. Mulder and Scully find themselves in an elevator with none other than Diana Fowley just as Mulder's burgeoning abilities begin to manifest.

Length: 4,471

Classification: UST, jealousy

Rating: T

Spoilers: Biogenesis

Favorite line: It was simply the whispered thought of his name, but he was very sure she’d never said it aloud quite like that before. The warmth radiating from her as she squeezed his fingers back made his heart stutter in his chest. Sure, he’d been a little loopy from the drugs they’d given him when he’d stupidly blurted out that he loved her, but damn if he didn’t feel the same way in that moment as Scully appeared to be feeling right now.

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I love this one. Mulder gets drugged and there’s an axe and he feeds her a banana.

Title: instinct

Author: light_loves_the_dark @queeenpersephone

Summary: “Move,” Mulder orders, his voice low and gravelly, wrapping a large hand around Scully's bicep and pulling her aside.

She struggles against him, mentally reviewing the profile, desperate to think of a way to stop this. The other victims hadn’t been violent for violence’s sake. Reduced to their basic instincts, they had fallen back to protect what they had considered theirs.

She needs to get Mulder out. And as much as she hates appearing weak, she knows exactly how to do it. She knows exactly what Mulder considers his.

aka the one where mulder is drugged and reduced to his basic instincts, and no one needs three guesses to figure out who those instincts get directed towards

Length: 15,401

Classification: MSR

Rating: T

Spoilers:

Favorite line: She exhales, trying to give him a shaky smile, when he steps into her body and presses his mouth against her temple. Her hands reflexively clutch at his shirt. He breathes in, wet and close and primitive; he’s not kissing her skin, but the open mouthed press of his lips is almost more intimate. He inhales once more, slow and deliberate and long, his free hand coming up to cup the back of her neck. His hand is large enough to cover her skin from her first thoracic vertebrae to her hairline, and she shudders at the sensation. It feels primal. Possessive.

---------------------------------

Wonderful look at what it might have been like when Mulder could read minds.

Title: The Restless Heart, The Promised Land

Author: incidental @incidental-ao3

Summary: Someone on twitter wondered what Mulder would've heard in Scully's head during The Sixth Extinction when he was still able to read minds. This is my take on that. Could be canon compliant, since we have no canon answer to a lot of the timeline of their romantic relationship. Inspired by twitter and The Killers.

Length: 5,100

Classification: MSR love confession (unintentional)

Rating: T

Spoilers: The Sixth Extinction II: Amor Fati

Favorite line: I love you so much, she thought, and he smiled again, truly amazed. He didn’t think he was hallucinating this. God, I’m so glad you’re alive.

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An explanation for Mulder’s terrible season 7 haircut.

Title: Unscrupulous

Author: Narida Law (sarea)

Summary: Mulder's haircut is, quite simply, the result of one woman's possessive nature.

Length: 2,424

Classification: MSR UST

Rating: T

Spoilers:

Favorite line: She didn't need to walk anything off. She just had to keep those women at the requisition desk from ogling what was hers.

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The prompt from fragile vixen includes the words voyeurism is encouraged... I love it when they can't help themselves.

Title: Blind Spot

Author: alienqueequeg @alienqueequeg

Summary: After a long day working on a pointless assignment, Mulder and Scully start to get frisky in the records room of the FBI Headquarters.

Length: 3,580

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers:

Favorite line: Mulder bends his neck down, pressing his lips to her neck. A quick study to all her favorite spots, he executes his move with the precision of a predator going in for the kill. She clenches her thighs and mentally curses him.

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Very sweet destined-to-be-together fic following the path laid out by the lyrics of Taylor Swift’s song Mastermind.

Title: Mastermind

Author: Katy_KT_Katie and tofuttiM @katy-kt-katie and @tofuttim

Summary: What if we told you none of it was accidental? That once Dana Scully met Fox Mulder she knew she had to force them into a partnership, a friendship and a relationship. Fic looking at their relationship from first meeting through the Revival. Canon Adjacent.

Length: 19,836

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers: runs over the course of the whole show

Favorite line: She reflected on how much she had changed while working with Mulder. Her mind was more open but so was her heart. She’d never loved anyone as fiercely and completely as she loved him. He was her perfect opposite and the pull of them towards each other made them both better, made them both whole people. Even if their relationship never progressed, she didn’t care, she needed to be with him, needed him by her side always.

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Does what it says on the tin. Extremely lovely look at mornings they share over the years.

Title: days sweetest moments are at dawn

Author: catharsisxf @catharsisxf

Summary: A glimpse at various mornings they spent together from Arcadia onward.

Length: 8,304

Classification: MSR

Rating: Not rated but some chapters are explicit

Spoilers: Arcadia on

Favorite line: She notices Dana hovering with a nervous energy, her hands fidgeting like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. As she puts away the last of the leftovers Maggie turns to her with a smile then freezes. Glancing towards the living room she spots a black leather jacket tossed on the back of the sofa. Looking a little more closely she spies a man’s shoe under the coffee table and a silk blouse hanging off the armchair.

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This happens to be a beautifully written look at them together discovering more about one another, enjoying the closeness that they've found as they've entered into a romantic relationship. Chapter 2 also happens to be "extremely hot monkey sex" as Mulder puts it. I love how Darwin writes them.

Title: Close through the Dark

Author: Darwin_xf @darwin-xf

Summary: A long time ago in a galaxy much like our own but with no smartphones, Mulder and Scully explore the vicissitudes of family, the metaphysics of sex, the intersection of desire and power, the motives of Skinner, the confines and conventions of gender, the inadequacy of language, a deep dark secret or two, and—most importantly—each other. Basically, nothing happens.

Length: 9,193

Classification: MSR, E

Rating: E

Spoilers:

Favorite line: “Maybe we should close the windows,” she said.

“It doesn’t bother me. For once I’m about to curl up with my favorite warm body and someone else is acting like a lunatic and going home alone.”

---------------------------------

Really beautiful and gentle story of their love for each other with a bit of a gut punch at the end. But it's OK! Num said: Just know in this universe Mulder does make it back and William isn't put up for adoption. It's just a bump in the road

Title: Handfesta

Author: numinous_mysteries @numinousmysteries

Summary: He wants to marry her in a primeval fashion that transcends man and law and God.

Length: 5,056

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers: Season 7

Favorite line: “Oh, Mulder,” she sighs. “A pagan ceremony preceded by a mysterious seven-hour road trip with a 5 a.m. wakeup call is the only way I would ever expect to marry you. Truly, if you got down on one knee with a diamond ring after a candlelit dinner I’d probably immediately order a CT scan to check you for a cerebral hemorrhage.”

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I am obsessed with this fic. Every time I read it I am staggered by the prose. Absolute stunner. Beautiful love story from Scully's perspective over the course of season 7 with sharp edges. Rings so true and is heartachingly good.

Title: ālea iacta est

Author: brenayla @brenayla

Summary: For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, and for Scully so loved Mulder that she’s cracked his ribs to restart his heart and dug bloodied fingers into his mangled thigh to slow the gush of his femoral artery.

If her unfettered belief in Mulder was enough to give him eternal life, the sun would burn out first.

Length: 11,628

Classification: MSR

Rating: E

Spoilers: Season 7

Favorite line: They are all my favourite line so here's one of them: Sometimes when he looks at her, Scully is struck with the staggering realization that that greedy, sweet thing she feels for him? God, he feels it right back.

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Something Different

Something truly magical here. The world as they know it ends and they find a little girl who is something more. Don’t want to spoil too much, they do absolutely go through it but it still has that sense of magic to it and ultimately feels hopeful.

Title: the sprite universe

Author: audries @audriesfic

Summary: On the last and final day, God created little girls. On the last and final day, from Scully’s true rib on her right side, God created daughters without mothers and mothers without sons and so on and so forth. Amen Amen Hallelejuah.

prompt from @enigmaticdr on tumblr: AU post-2012, dystopian, a hardened Mulder and Scully find an abandoned child at the side of the road.

Length: 5,114 over two works

Classification: Post series AU

Rating: G

Spoilers:

Favorite line: “She’s just a child,” Scully is saying, almost too quiet, and he has no idea why she’s saying it at all, except for the careful way the woman had stepped away, her eyes on the Sprite and not the gun. Like there was only one thing she was scared of and Scully wasn’t it. “She’s just a little girl.”

The woman grins, dazed and toothless, as she backs into the crop of trees off the side of the lot, away from them. “Beg your pardon, ma’am,” she sniffs, wipes her wrist across her mouth, leaving a hard line instead of a smile in its wake. “But you have no idea what she is.”

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Heavy Hitters From OG Writers

This fic is a stone cold classic. I spent decades away from the fandom and this fic and Lydia Bower stuck with me as the ultimate in xf fanfic.

Title: Dance Without Sleeping

Author: wonderland/Lydia Bower @amplifyme

Summary: Scully learns to live with her cancer and take back control of her life. Meanwhile, Mulder works on fulfilling a wish list.

Length: 30,621

Classification: MSR, cancer arc

Rating: M

Spoilers:

Favorite line: He peers down at me, his eyes dark and sleepy. He sighs, a deep, shuddery sigh and pulls me tighter against him. "If you had any idea what you mean to me," his voice drops to a gravely whisper, “you wouldn't have to ask."

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There’s nothing I can say about this fic that will be sufficient. It’s Penumbra writing as The_Mythopoeic. It is poetic and epic and bracing and absolutely gorgeous.

Title: Heuvelmans' On the Track

Author: The_Mythopoeic/Penumbra @mashnotesofthemythopoeic

Summary: In which Scully becomes a Consortium doctor, and Mulder moves heaven and earth.

Length: 81,392

Classification: MSR

Rating: M

Spoilers:

Favorite line: It’s Penumbra so all of it, but this really stuck with me: Keagle, who had said nothing until now, turned and studied Scully openly. She lifted her chin slightly, and their equally blunt gazes exchanged a grudging recognition.

Keagle nodded. 'She would have got out,' he said.

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This is a post Never Again fic that sees them working a very compelling case with a great original character. There is conflict and MSR and it’s just fantastic.

Title: The Common Fate of All Things Rare

Author: Aloysia_Virgata and Scarlet

Summary: Ever wonder what happened between the silence of Never Again and the flowers from Memento Mori? Ever wonder if Scully's night with Ed Jerse affected her relationship with Mulder in any way? Ever wonder what pushed Scully to go to the hospital and find out about her cancer in the first place? Ever wonder how her illness might have affected her work or if she ever thought about Leonard Betts' words?

Well, we did...

Length: 46,702

Classification: Casefile, MSR, cancer arc, angst

Rating: M

Spoilers: Never Again

Favorite line: "Now, listen to me very carefully. You two clearly have some personal problems that are interfering with your focus on this case. So here's what you're going to do: you're going to drive to your hotel and fight or fuck or snort an eight ball of blow - whatever you do to get functional - and then we're going to find this guy. You come back here with a game face or you go home. Do you understand me?"

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JET is such a unique, gifted writer. Her voice is entirely her own. An all time great. Small Lives Awaken is a banger but this one– a case after Amor Fati where they meet star crossed lovers, one of whom can read the other’s mind– is a thing of beauty too.

Title: Silence Waiting

Author: Jesemie’s Evil Twin (JET)

Summary: "I saw old Autumn in the misty morn stand

shadowless like Silence, listening to silence..."

Thomas Hood

Or, The First Nine Days.

Length: 18,600ish

Classification: MSR, Oddness

Rating: E

Spoilers: Through Amor Fati

Favorite line: He said some things a few days ago, but they were just words in that cloaked, measured way he always seems to be speaking to her in his hallway -- if he can hold her in his arms for thirty seconds at a time, once every two or three years, if he can say 'saved' and 'touchstone' and 'whole person,' eventually, decades from now, he might also finally string together enough of those words to fully explain what she means to him.

---------------------------------

Listen. I don’t like to pick favourites because we are so incredibly lucky to have some of the best writers in the world writing xf fanfic, but this one by Revely might just be it for me. Definitely top 5 of all time. Mulder is returned in Oregon after a year. This is their drive back across the country. It is utterly beautiful.

Title: The Unfinished Universe

Author: Revely

Summary:

Length: Around 17,700

Classification: MSR

Rating: Not rated

Spoilers: This is an alternate post abduction Mulder universe

Favorite line: She writes, "I do not want to be buried without you. Who will hold my hand?"

---------------------------------

Another all time favourite of mine. This is a great casefile but what I really love about it is how realistic the balance of their romantic and working relationships feels here. It’s satisfyingly mature and very recognisably them.

Title: Seeds of Synchronicity

Author: mountainphile

Summary: Six years after the events of "Aubrey," Scully and Mulder revisit the Missouri town to confront old demons and lay new ones to rest.

Length: ~92,350 words (as per @lilydalexf here)

Classification: MSR, casefile

Rating: E

Spoilers: Aubrey, Emily set in season 7

Favorite line: "This is different. New game, new rules..." Sighing, she knows her words sound cliched and inane in the warm heady space they inhabit on the bed.

"No, no games." His eyes so close, commanding her gaze, he the only one alive who knows her best. "Just reality. The truth."

"Which is...?"

"That we love one other, no matter what."

---------------------------------

Happy holidays @unremarkablehouse!

#txf fanfic #fic recs #fic rec list #poangpresents2024 #poangpals #unremarkablehouse

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jiniretracha · 4 hours ago

Text

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝟏𝟎 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 - 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱

Pairing: Lee Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, slight smut (piv!)

Summary: Felix Lee makes a bet with his co-workers in which he had to make a woman fall in love with him within 10 days, but he picks the wrong woman, who's working on an article for the magazine she works for called 'How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days' and she had chosen him as his prey. Based on one of my comfort movies: How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days (2003).

Word Count: a whooping amount of 13.2k

PS: this is an old fic of mine from my old ao3 account (that i don't use anymore lol), i rewrote it with Lix instead. You can check it out here. Also, i proofread this but i don't trust myself that much so, if you see any mistake, feel free to let me know pls.

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi

Day 1

“I’m going back to bed, I have no reason to live”

“Oh Karina! Come on. Get up, I’m not gonna let you lose your job over a stupid guy” you said.

Karina laid in bed, tears both fresh and dried on her cheeks, heartbroken over a guy she met, fell in love with and then told her he didn’t want anything serious.

“Oh, oh Y/N” Karina said, hugging you.

“You only dated the guy for a week” You reminded her in a whisper.

“It was the best week of my life, Y/N. He was perfect” she sniffled.

You sighed and pulled away from the hug. “Come on. I’m sure Seulgi yelling at us because we didn’t write the article like she wanted us to will bring you back to reality and will make you forget about the douche you dated” you said with a smile, making her chuckle.

You helped her get dressed and then got in a taxi to the Composure offices, where you, Karina and your other best friend, Ryujin worked. Composure was a ‘girly or gay’ magazine, as everyone liked to call it, created by Kang Seulgi, where you could find either the latest trend in fashion, the Kardashians latest fake scandal or how to catch men like Harry Styles. You found all the articles that were written in the magazine a little bit sexist, you studied journalism to become a real one, not a gossip writer for a cheap magazine. But it was a job that gave you a certain status, you couldn’t complain.

When you arrived at the Composure offices, you opened the door of the cab for Karina, who held a couple of tissues in her hand. She blew her nose and got surprised by Ryujin who was holding a cup holder with 3 newly ordered coffees from Starbucks. “Hey honey” Ryujin winced when she saw Karina state.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it okay?” she smiled through the pain, making you and Ryujin nod.

You got inside the big building and pressed the button that led to the Composure floor.

Karina broke down and leaned her head on the elevator wall. “Why? Why does this always happen to me? I get this great guy, and everything’s amazing for a week and a half, and suddenly, it’s over and I’m mystified!” she cried.

The people inside the elevator were looking at the girl with furrowed eyebrows and you glared at them, making them look the other way.

“Mingyu and I had such a connection” she gushed over him. “Like-like the first time we had sex, it was so beautiful. I even cried” she said.

You pressed your lips together, suddenly very aware of the people inside the elevator. “You mean like, shed a tear, wiped it with a finger. Right?”

“No, I was very emotional. I even told him that I loved him” she explained, with a shake of her head.

“After how many days?” Ryujin asked sipping on her coffee to hide her grimace.

“Five” she said and then looked the other way. “Two”

You and Ryujin sighed loudly.

“But… I just felt like he needed to know” she said.

“Well, what did he say?” you asked.

Karina sighed. “He didn’t have to say anything. I knew he felt the same as me” she smiled and then she frowned. “But then he started getting really busy… I didn’t know where he was at times. I kept calling him, calling him and calling but he was never home!”

“You kept calling him?” You asked, wincing.

“Well he wasn’t answering” she defended herself. “Plus he didn’t know it was him, my number was blocked”

“Oh sweetie” Ryujin said. “I’m sure he thought it was one of his friends”

The elevator dinged and you got out, Ryujin and Karina following behind.

“Rina, honey. You do realize you were way too pretty for him? I mean, you were like Kaia Gerber when she was dating Pete Davidson!” you explained. “You need to be in a relationship like Megan Fox and Machine Gun Kelly, you can’t decide which one is hotter”

Karina huffed. “Maybe but… for me, he was really handsome. And cute. Ugh, he was perfect” she said and a few tears slipped from her cheek.

“No, wait. Don’t cry honey. What Y/N and I want to say is that you need to realize that if this guy didn’t like you for who you were, then screw him” Ryujin explained.

“Yeah, but I know why he dumped me. I’m too fat”

“You’re not fat!” both you and Ryujin said.

As you climbed up the stairs to get to your respective offices you sighed. “Okay, Rina, look. Even if the most beautiful girl in the world acted the way you did, a normal guy would still be running in the other direction” you said, as your friends followed behind you.

“No guy would be running away from you, Y/N” Karina said. “I mean, you could barf all over him and he’d say, “Thank you, can you please do it again?”” she said, making you laugh.

“Okay, that is absolutely disgusting and totally not true!” you laughed at her metaphor. “Cause if I did the things you did, I’d get dumped too. Anyways, enough with this Mingyu bullshit. I got two tickets for the Knicks game for tomorrow that Ryujin got from his cousin, and since you’re the only one available, you could join me, maybe?”

“Nah thanks, I’d like to sit in my misery for a couple more days” Karina sighed.

The three of you got inside Seulgi’s office along with other co-workers.

“Alrighty, family. What do we got for the next issue?” Seulgi asked.

Ryujin raised her hand. “As you asked, I got the latest The Bachelor drama covered, and I also answered a few of the questions users asked us on the website”

Seulgi nodded. “Great work, Ryujin. What about How-To with Y/N?”

You smiled. “I worked on something different and completely new for the issue. It’s uh… a political piece--”

“--Y/N. You work for Composure magazine. Not Forbes” Seulgi said sternly. “We are fashion, drama, gossip, cosmetic surgeries, you name it. That’s what Composure is about”

“Yeah, I know but--”

“Y/N, you writing in the column is new for you, I get it. But you’re working for me , and until I decide when you are going to write whatever you want, you write whatever I want. Okay?”

“Yeah” you nodded, looking at your skirt, not wanting to look Seulgi in the eyes.

“Karina, what do you got?” Seulgi sighed.

She lifted her head and paled. “I…Uh… sorry, Seulgi. I wasn’t feeling very well” Karina said.

“She got dumped” Ryujin quickly filled in, earning a glare from Karina.

“Oh, no… Karina. It must be feeling hellish for you these past few days, but I must say you’re looking gorgeous” Seulgi complimented. “Doesn’t she?” she asked and everyone nodded, complimenting her.

Karina sighed. “I haven’t been eating since the split”

“Good for you! Write about it” Seulgi said. Ryujin and you looked at each other and grimaced.

“I can’t use my personal life as a story” she said, her voice small.

Seulgi smiled. “I understand completely. Who will use Karina’s story for their article?” she asked suddenly.

“No, no, no. Wait, Seulgi. With all due respect no one has business here using my story for an article in a magazine, I’m sorry but--”

“I’ll do it” you said suddenly, an idea clicking in your mind.

“What?” Karina looked at you.

“I-I’ll sort of do it. You’ll be my inspiration” you said. “Like, look at Karina. She’s a great girl, right?” you asked, and Seulgi nodded with a curt yes and nodded for you to continue. “An amazing woman. But… she has a problem hanging onto relationships. No offense. And probably, doesn't know what she’s doing wrong, like it could happen to our readers. So, my idea was that I could start dating this guy and then drive him away but only using these common mistakes like girls like Rina or our readers commit all the time. I’ll even… keep a diary of it and it will be sort of a dating how-to in reverse”

Karina smiled at you and Seulgi clapped her hands together. “What not to do. Brilliant!”

“Yeah”

“How to lose a guy in 10 days” Seulgi said. “Loved it, go. Now Sunoo, what’s the shoe story you wanted--”

“I’m sorry, Seulgi. Ten days? Why ten days?” you asked.

Her eyebrows arched. “Well, I figured 5 days is too short and we go to press in 11, so…” she said.

Karina and Ryujin gave you thumbs up, making you smile at them, but innerly wondering how the hell would you manage to do this in only ten days.

-------------------

Felix Lee arrived at his office, parking his motorbike and taking off his helmet. As always, earning smiles and flirtatious looks from the ladies in the streets, but he loved the attention.

Working as a publicity chief had its perks. You could share an office with your best friends and have an assistant that brings you lunch or whatever you want, but it also had its drawbacks like having a boss who’s riding your ass. That was Felix’s case.

Felix got inside the building and into his office. “What’s up, Hyunjinnie?” he said.

Hyunjin looked up from his computer and smirked. “Oh, hey, Lix”

Jisung, his other best friend, got inside with a worried look. “Did you hear?”

“Hear what? About the Knicks game tomorrow? I did, and it’s pretty terrible, cause I didn’t get the tickets--”

Jisung sighed. “Not about the Knicks game. De Lauer diamonds is looking for a new ad agency and Mr. Park wants to move it aggressively”

“Yes!” Felix smiled. “Yes! This is a good day. Guys, did you know that diamonds are as common as taxis on Fifth Avenue?” he asked while taking his shirt off, and grabbing his dress shirt from the desk. The women in the office every day went crazy whenever he came in with a normal, regular shirt and changed it for a formal one. “The value is entirely sentimental… but we do have game in what we do the best. Advertising. So, my point is--” he said while buttoning his shirt up. “De Lauer owns the diamond market, meaning, if I represent them, I basically own everyone’s ass in the industry” he smiled.

Hyunjin sighed. “That’s the thing, Mr. Park already gave it to the Chaeyoung’s”

Felix’s eyes narrowed. Son Chaeyoung and Park Chaeyoung were his number 1 competitors inside the publicity business. “No way!”

“Yeah, it kind of makes sense when you have a pair of hot leggy chicks and we’re the beer and sneakers division, you know?” Hyunjin said.

“No way, I’ll have this deal” Felix said.

Jisung and Hyunjin stepped in his way. “No, Mr. Park is on a plane right now, business meeting. He’s having dinner with the Chaeyoung’s tonight”

“Where?”

“At Yu Bar” Jisung said and Hyunjin nodded.

“That fancy shithole? I’ll crash there and claim what’s ours guys. This will be my pitch, my account, my campaign, my baby. I make the rules now” he smirked.

“It’s kind of hard when you have a millionaire right above your ass but we get your point bro, we’re with you” Hyunjin said with a shrug.

“Hell yeah” Jisung smiled.

----------------------

After work, you and the girls prepared yourselves to set a trap for the guy you were going to use for this ‘How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days’.

You put on your best dress and put the plan in action, heading to Yu Bar, Karina’s parents restaurant.

“I don’t think this will work, Y/N” Karina said with a frown walking down the street.

“Of course it will work, Rina. Just watch me hook a guy with my charms, like woo him a little that will make him want to see me again and then tomorrow I’ll pull the switch and make him nuts” you explained with ease.

“Please tell me you’re not gonna burn down his apartment or bite him, are you?” Ryujin asked.

You laughed at her comment. “No, I’m gonna limit myself to doing everything girls do that make men run off” you shrugged. “That means being clingy, needy--”

“Touchy-feely” Ryujin added and you nodded. “Oh, call him in the middle of the night just to tell him everything you had to eat that day” she smirked devilishly.

“What’s wrong with that?” Karina asked, making you and Ryujin stop dead in your tracks. “I’m kidding”

You got inside Yu Bar and Karina gave a wink to the man guarding the door, letting him know they had free access to eat.

“Well, Ryujin and I will grab a couple of drinks, in the meantime, you go search for a man that could easily fall for your trap” Karina said and grabbed Ryujin’s hand, guiding her to the bar.

You nodded and looked around. Let’s get the plan started, you smirked to yourself.

---------------

Mr. Park arrived at Yu Bar with the Chaeyoung’s behind him.

“Hello Felix. What a surprise seeing you here” he said, surprised to see the freckled blonde sitting on the table he exclusively reserved for him and the Chaeyoung’s.

The girls behind him scowled at the intrusive blonde, and he winked at them.

“Hello, Mr. Park. How’s it going?” he smirked, standing to shake the man’s hand. “Son, Park” he nodded to them.

“I’m great, but what are you doing here?” he asked with a shake of his head, confused at the situation.

He sat down. “Well, I’m here for the meeting. I know I wasn’t invited but I should’ve. It was my tip De Lauer was shopping for a new firm” he smirked at the girls.

“Yes, it was. But I was thinking about who suits best within the company” Mr. Park said.

“And that’s me” Felix said confidently.

“Felix, I know you sell blow pretty well. But these ladies sell luxury faster than anyone” He said.

The blonde sighed, irritated to hear how his boss was complimenting his worst enemies.

“We’re here to sell diamonds, mostly women. Because let’s face it. Women love diamonds and if we can make them seem appealing to them then boom” the freckled man said. “Selling a diamond to a woman is like making her fall in love. Like talking about head-over-heels in love, his-and-her towels, let’s grow old together, L-O-V-E, love” he explained. The Chaeyoung’s were giving him a strange look. “Look, I love women. I do. I respect them, and listen to them. And that’s why I can sell myself to any woman, anytime, any day, anywhere” he said.

“Make a woman fall in love with diamonds or with you, Felix?” Son Chaeyoung asked.

Felix was taken aback with the question. “Either way… I’m pretty confident” he said.

“I’d like to see you prove that” Park Chaeyoung challenged.

“Oh, you would?”

She laughed. “The agency is co-hosting a party for the De Lauers at the museum. The party is in a week from sunday. Think you can make a woman fall in love with you by then?” Park Chaeyoung asked.

Felix’s eyes narrowed and smiled a little. “Ten days?”

“Any woman, anytime, anywhere?” Son Chaeyoung chimed in.

“Yeah well, any woman, who’s single, straight and available, yeah” he said.

Park Chaeyoung smirked. “Then it’s settled. I’ll choose a woman from this bar. Anyone. And then you decide”

Felix turned around with a smirk. “So, who’s the lucky girl?”

Son Chaeyoung recognized you from the Composure offices as she was friends with both Mr. Park and Kang Seulgi. “Her” she pointed at you with an evil smirk.

Felix turned around and saw you. His heart fluttered a little bit when he saw you throwing your head back in a laugh with a drink in your hands, facing your friend Karina. He smiled and nodded. “Done”

“What?”

“Done. You’re on” he nodded at Son Chaeyoung. “You both are. But here are the stakes” he specified, making Mr. Park’s eyebrows arch. “After I win this bet, the pitch is mine”

“Agreed” Son Chaeyoung said.

“Mr. Park?”

“Agreed” he said. “You come to that party with a girl that’s really in love with you, Felix, and you can make the pitch to the De Lauers.”

The Chaeyoung’s looked at each other and sighed.

“To the De Lauers” Mr. Park said, raising a toast to the four of them.

-----------------

“Okay guys, this is not going as I thought it would. I charmed my way with two guys in ten minutes. The first one was gay, and the second one was married.” you sighed, dropping your ass on the stool. “Saw the fucking ring on his finger and the wallpaper on his phone”

Ryujin rubbed your arm. “You’ll find him. Don’t worry. Here’s your Manhattan” she said, handing you the drink.

You noticed that your purse was not with you and you slapped yourself on the forehead. “Shit, I forgot my purse on the other side of the bar. I’ll be right back” you said, hopping off the stool.

You made your way to where the purse was, and grabbed it. You were about to walk to where your friends were until a blonde, handsome, freckled, and sexy guy was standing right in front of you. Your eyes widened.

“Hi” he said.

“Hi” you said, looking him up and down, while he did the same. “Y/N Y/L/N” you said and stretched your hand out.

He smiled and took it. “Felix Lee”

“Cute”

“Thank you” he said smugly.

You scoffed. “I meant your name”

“Thank you two times”

“Unattached?” you asked.

“Currently” he nodded, sipping his drink.

“Likewise”

“Surprising” he said.

“Psycho?”

“Rarely” he said and you hummed. “Interested?”

“Perhaps” you played hard to get.

“Hungry?”

“Starved actually” you said, twirling your hair with a finger.

“Leaving” he said confidently.

“Now?”

“Yep”

“Okay” you nodded. “Let me get my stuff then, Felix Lee”

“I’ll meet you at the door” he said, and walked up to the entrance with a smile on his lips.

You walked up to Karina and Ryujin and squealed. “Guys, I think I got one” you said.

“But he was married” Karina protested.

You laughed. “No, not him. The cute blonde who’s waiting at the door with the leather jacket”

Ryujin peeped from just above your head and gasped. “Holy cow. He’s really cute”

“I’m gonna check if he’s a keeper. He promised he wasn’t psycho, though” you said, grabbing your purse. “I’m doing this for you. Bye guys”

You walked through the crowd until you reached Felix, who put a hand on your back and led you outside. You walked up to a car that was right by the entrance, thinking it was his until he grabbed your hand and led you to a motorcycle parked right next to it.

You scoffed. “I… a bike?” you stammered.

“Yep. Here, I use the black one, and you the goofy-looking white helmet” he said, handing you the helmet with a smile.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You always pick up girls like this? Cause I’m telling you it is not charming at all” you said, laughing.

“Come on Y/N Y/L/N” he said, and you grabbed the helmet putting it on your head. He then let out a cute giggle and knocked on the helmet with his knuckles softly. “Beautiful”

---------------

After you grabbed food, you headed to his apartment. He dropped his stuff on the kitchen table and offered to take off his jacket that was clinging to your shoulders.

“So, I never got to ask you this but uh… what do you exactly do for a living? Cause let me tell you, this is a great apartment” you said, looking around.

“I’m in advertising” he said, putting the coat on the hanger beside the door. “I work mostly with alcoholic beverages and athletic companies, and now our big break is with jewelry companies” he said, turning around to face you.

“Huh. That’s pretty good. I love it”

“You?” he asked, grabbing two beers from the fridge.

“I work at Composure” you said, grabbing the bottle he offered to you.

His eyebrows raised at that. “Wow, fastest selling women's magazine in the US, that’s amazing” he smiled at you. “What do you write about? How to save a shopaholic’s life?”

You gasped. “Oh, wow. Calm down, sparky. I got a journalism degree from Columbia, thank you very much. My boss loves me and if I kiss her ass a little more, I will write about whatever the hell I want” you said proudly, sipping on your newly opened beer.

“Like shoes- Ow” he said, his comment earning a punch. He laughed and rubbed his shoulder.

“No, smarty pants. I want to write about politics. Or… alcoholic beverages and athletic gear” you teased and he laughed.

Felix smiled. “You’re mean. Do you bite?”

“Sometimes. I can if you want me to, freckles” you said with a glint in your eyes, that made his darken.

He licked his lips. “Do you want to go to my room?” he asked. “You know, it’s pretty much… comfy there”

You smirked. “Yeah, let me go to the bathroom, real quick”

You walked to the bathroom and locked yourself in there, stifling your laugh. You caught this playboy-like guy who was too cocky for his own good. You dialed Ryujin’s number and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“Are you at his apartment? I can’t believe you, Y/N!” Ryujin squealed.

“Yes, yes. I got him”

“You’re not gonna sleep with him are you?” Karina asked.

You rolled your eyes. “No, Rina. I have self-control. Unlike other people”

Karina gasped. “That was mean. That hurt”

Meanwhile, Felix lit some candles and put them in his room, smirking at himself.

“You have to take down notes. Remember the article” Ryujin said.

“Yeah, I know, Ryu. I gotta go. I’ll text you guys the details then. Bye” you said and pressed the red button, finishing the call and straightening up your dress. This was going to be fun.

You got out of the bathroom and took in his room, all lit by candles while a slow R&B song was playing in the background.

“Wow, this is impressive” you said, grabbing the beer you had left on the stand.

He sat on the chest of drawers he had and patted the empty space. You smiled and sat down next to him, dropping your purse next to you and sipping on your beer. You two stayed in silence, just enjoying each other’s company, until you got bored of it, and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

He let you for a couple of seconds until he pulled his head back a little with a groan. “Wait, let’s not go too fast” he whispered.

Your heart sank. He’s not as easy as I thought. Blinking several times, you nodded, fake blushing, trying to guilt-trip him into kissing you.

You tried to take a sip from your beer but he pushed it away and kissed the breath out of you. He made you stand up, your kiss never breaking. Wrapping your arms around him, you opened your mouth and welcomed his tongue. You felt the control slipping from your fingers and pulled away.

“We��re moving too fast” you panted against his lips.

He nodded but you kissed him again, and he followed your lead. The kiss was hungry and he grabbed your ass, making you moan a little loud against his lips. His hands dropped to your thighs, lifting you up a little and you both dropped on the bed. Felix grabbed your leg, caressing the skin there, gripping your flesh and it made you both pull away at the same time.

“Too fast” you said in unison.

You both sat up and looked at each other.

“We respect each other right?“ You asked.

“If you respect me, I respect you”

“Good” you said, and dropped a kiss on his lips.

A few minutes later, your cab arrived and you walked down the street opening the door of the taxi. You heard someone whistling and you looked up, seeing Felix in his balcony, smirking at you.

He waved at you and you waved back.

“Ah, you are already falling in love with me” he said, pushing his tongue against the inner side of his cheek.

You smiled from down the street and blew him a kiss. “I’m gonna make you wish you were dead. Poor guy”

And then you were gone, and he was back in his apartment. He turned around and bit his lip, noticing that you (purposely) forgot your purse on his chest of drawers.

“Smart girl” he said, with a nudge of his head.

--------------

Day 2

Felix dropped the purse on his office desk. Hyunjin and Jisung sat studying the bag, their eyes running all over the leather object.

“Have you looked inside of it?” Hyunjin asked.

He shook his head. “No, I waited to be with you so you could give me advice on how to play my next move” Felix said, sitting down on his chair.

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Dude you’re the expert with chicks here”

“I know. But you think she’ll bother if I put my hands inside her purse?” he asked, sipping on his coffee.

Hyunjin tried to grab it but ended up throwing it to the floor and all the things inside spilled on the floor. Jisung smacked the back of his head, making the elder grumble and rub the sore spot.

“Great job, knobhead” Felix said and the three guys kneeled down to check the things inside your purse. “Wait guys” he said as he looked at a white envelope. “What’s this?” he asked, opening it and he took out two Knicks game tickets.

His eyes widened and so did his friends’.

“She’s so hot. I don’t even have to see her face to know she is” Hyunjin said, clenching his eyes.

“That she is. But she’s also a smart little shit. She wanted me to find them” Felix said smugly, getting up and dropping them on his desk.

Jisung’s eyebrows arched. “Felix, you guys met when she had already her purse with her”

Felix didn’t pay him attention and smirked.

---------------

Meanwhile, your office was full of white roses, and you gasped looking at the scene. Ryujin next to you laughed. “Okay, what did you give him? A love spell?”

“What the hell is this?” you asked.

Karina searched the flowers for a card and found one, and read it out loud. “One hundred times more beautiful than a hundred roses. Where the fuck do you find these guys?”

You laughed and felt your heart flutter. No, wait. This was all planned. You rolled your eyes at yourself. “He works in advertising, of course he had to give me flowers with a catchy pick up line”

Ryujin laughed. “You think?”

You gasped. “This means he found the Knicks tickets” you said. Karina gasped. “I’m mean, I know. I’ll call him”

Just before you could dial his number, your phone rang.

“Y/N Y/L/N, Composure offices” you said, knowing it was him.

Felix put the phone on speaker and gave his friends a smug smile. “Hey, hey pretty girl. Received my flowers?”

You sighed. “I did. I got now a really embarrassing display of roses in my office” you said, rolling your eyes with a smirk on your face.

Felix laughed. “You are welcome, I had a really good time last night” he said charmingly. “I have your bag”

“Oh, I know. I forgot it. Such a klutz” you said, your friends stifling their laughs with their hands.

Felix sighed. “Well, you must need it back. You know, all the cash, credit cards… Knicks game tickets for tonight” he taunted. His friends gave him a thumbs up.

You fake gasped. “You are a very bad boy, Mr. Lee. You’ve been peeking through my bag! Haven’t they taught you manners?”

He scoffed. “No, absolutely not. My art director and pal Hyunjin, who’s such a dumbass, knocked it over by accident” he said and kicked Hyunjin’s leg without even looking at him.

“Ow! Yeah, I’m a dumbass, sorry” he said, wincing.

“Alright. I’m sorry, though. I’m going with someone else to the game.

Felix smirked. “Well, not anymore. You forgot your bag by ‘accident’? You obviously wanted me to go to the game. You just didn’t know how to ask. But save the begging, pretty girl, I’ll go with you”

You gasped internally. Cocky, you mouthed to your friends. “You are so full of yourself, tell me. Does that psychobabble work with everybody?” you asked, leaning forward on your desk.

“You tell me”

“You are so mean” Karina whispered.

You pressed your lips together, pretending to think about it. “Alright, you win, handsome. Meet me at the seventh avenue entrance. Don’t be late”

“You got it. Bye bye”

“Bye” you said and hung up the phone.

Ryujin and Karina let their laugh out. “He’s dead” Ryujin said.

-------------------------

It was Knicks night and you and Felix were sitting very close to the court. He was in awe.

You and Felix booed, cheered, yelled and clapped, you were both ecstatic.

An hour later, the game was about to end, the team calling for a 20-second-time and break began. That meant that the fan cams were on. It was time for the kissing cam and you both laughed at the couples kissing. You gasped when the camera pointed at both you and Felix and laughed, looking at each other.

You patted your cheek but he quickly grabbed your neck and planted a heavy kiss on your mouth. The crowd erupted in cheers as the kiss grew hotter and you pulled away, with a red face. He sat there licking his lips, proud of your reaction.

The break time was finished and the game began once again. An idea popped in your head.

“Lixie, babe?” you asked with a pouty face.

He didn’t even look at you. “What-what?” he asked.

“I’m kind of thirsty, Lix” you whined.

“Yeah okay” he said and continued cheering on the team.

You frowned and sighed. “Felix, can you get me a soda? I’m parched” you whined.

Felix couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She wants a soda right now? Just when the game’s ending? “I’ll get it right after the game, baby” he said, glancing at you.

“I’m really thirsty” you smiled at him with a little pout and he looked at you. “I’ll get it” with a sigh, you mumbled.

He made you stop. “No, hang on. I’ll get it” he sighed and ran quickly to the shop, up the stairs.

Felix ran to the shop and asked for a coke. When he finally got it, he went back to the bleachers.

“Here” he said, handing it to you and quickly stretching up his neck to see what he missed.

You took a sip and pretended to gag. “Ugh, Felix. I forgot. I wanted a diet coke. Not regular” you whined.

Felix looked at you and you noticed he was very irritated. He pursed his lips furiously. “I’ll- Wait a second” he said and got back to the shop, right after, the crowd started counting from 5 to 0.

When the player scored, Felix missed by a few seconds on the shop TV. Everyone cheered and he stood there, watching the TV furiously. Felix kicked an empty soda cup on the floor angrily. He had missed the most important part of the game.

Once they were out of Madison Square Garden, you grabbed onto Felix’s arm and sighed. “What an exciting game, dude” you said with a smile. “I’ve never had so much adrenaline in my body, let me tell you”

Felix sighed. “Yep, pretty good game” he said.

“Oh, too bad you missed it” you said with a cheeky smile and stopped a cab. He bit his lips and let out a little smile. She’s lucky she’s cute, he thought.

The cab stopped and he opened the door for you. You stood watching him. “So… I’ll see you later, huh?” you asked.

He nodded. “I hope so”

You smiled and handed him the soda cup. He kissed you holding your waist and then when he pulled away, he winked at you. You got inside the car and closed the door.

Felix stood there watching the cab speed off. “Nice” he said, drinking the rest of the soda.

-------------------

Day 3

Felix was in a business meeting when his assistant peeked in and knocked.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Mr. Park. But Mr. Lee has an important call” she said with a wince.

He nodded. “Leave them a message, Yunjin please” Felix told her.

“It’s Y/N, Mr. Lee” she smiled.

He looked at Mr. Park for permission, and he sighed, nodding. “Make it quick”

Felix grabbed the phone and hit the accept call button.

“Hello?”

“It’s me! Baby!” You squealed.

“Uh, I’m in a business meeting right now, babe. I can’t call you now. Can I call you later, though?” he offered.

“It’s just that I miss you so much, baby-boo-boo-boo” you said with a baby voice. Ryujin and Karina were next to you and were holding onto each other, trying not to cackle.

“Well I miss you too” he said, with a smile, trying to ignore the baby voice.

“You busy tonight?”

“Uh, I’m not. Can we catch a movie or something? You can pick if you want” he said. “The cinema on the fourth is making a retro movie night” he said.

“A movie? My choice?” you squealed.

“Yeah”

“I’m so excited! I’ll call you later then, Lixie-Boo” you said.

“Bye, hon” he said, and hung up. A little smile was playing on his lips. “I think this is working, ladies and gentlemen” he yelled and clapped his hands, making Mr. Park shake his head with a little chuckle.

------------------

Movie night was on and the one you had picked was the most cringey you could find in retro-movie night: You’ve Got Mail.

You were eating popcorn and while you were enjoying the movie, you needed him to get irritated by your comments. “I always wanted a man like Tom Hanks” you said. “This is like my favorite movie of all time” you lied.

“Yeah me too” he said. You stopped eating. Shit, you thought, bad movie choice.

Someone shushed you from behind your seats and you kept quiet.

You bit your lip. “What are you thinking about?” you digged.

Felix forced a smile. “Movie. I’m thinking about the movie” he said, not bothering to look at you.

You smiled and played with his hair. “Yeah but what are you thinking about?”

He sighed, slightly enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his hair but hating the way you were trying to make conversation in the middle of You’ve Got Mail. “The movie”

You nodded and tried to think about your next move. “Okay, but what? Your mind’s completely blank?” you asked, and he closed his eyes, letting out a ragged breath. “Who is she?” you asked, putting your popcorn down, feeling your forehead purse into a frown.

Felix looked at you. “Who’s who?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“The girl you’re thinking about” You exclaimed.

“I can’t hear” the guy who shushed you before says.

“I’m not thinking about any girl, Y/N” he said.

You clicked your tongue. “I’ve dealt with enough liars! You can’t watch Meg Ryan and not think about another girl” you said.

People behind you were trying to shut you up but it didn’t work.

“You wanna know what I’m thinking?” he asked in a whisper. You nodded and he sighed. “I’m thinking about… how damn beautiful you are. And how that beautiful face like yours can believe I’m thinking about another girl, while I’m here with you” he said. “And also, how damn good this movie is. So we’re going to continue watching it”

You squealed a little bit and hugged him. “Oh, Lix, my baby” you said and kissed his face a couple of times, leaning almost on top of him. “I love sharing this with you”

“Hey! I can’t see and I can't hear” the guy behind you said.

You whirled around in your seat furiously. “If you don’t shut up, my boyfriend here will kick your ass back to where you belong” you said smugly.

“Wait, Y/N” he tried, his eyebrows furrowing in desperation.

“Oh really? Let’s see what you got, pretty boy. Outside. Now” the man said.

Felix wanted the earth to swallow him up.

------------

“Oh, Felix. Poor baby” you said, grabbing his face, sitting on the floor of the cinema entrance. His face was nestled between your breasts and he sighed contently, even if he was in pain.

“Wait. Lix let’s go to a hospital” you said. The bruise on his face was getting pretty bad and purple.

He grabbed your waist. “No, no. Stay. Stay right here”

“Okay” you said.

His face was rubbing your breasts and he let out a content moan. “Yes. Just stay still” he said with a smirk.

You laughed. “You perv”

He laughed and you grabbed his hair, lifting him from your chest.

“You’re fine. Come on” you said, getting up, offering your hands. He took them and stood up.

Felix smiled at you and dropped a long kiss to your lips.

“Let’s go Rocky” you whispered.

---------------

Day 4

Felix was planning a tranquil evening, to sit on his couch, watch the Knicks game and relax in his apartment with you. He decided that he was going to cook real nice for the both of you.

A knock startled his cooking and went to open the door.

“Come in, it’s open!” he yelled.

You got inside and smiled at him. “Hello, Lixie-Boo” you said.

He looked at you and his eyes widened. You were wearing a pretty baby blue dress. “Wow, you look gorgeous” he said.

“Thank you, sweet pea” you squealed and dropped a kiss to his cheek.

You looked at the table and saw the candles, the music in the background making it more nice than it already was.

You gasped. “Oh, honey. This is… too much, I love it” you said.

“Great! Dinner will be ready in five minutes. Go ahead and pour the wine” he said.

“I got you a couple of gifts” you said evilly. You opened the box you brought with you and inside laid a couple of teddy bears and a picture of you with the caption: you’re my, my, my, my lover.

His eyes widened. “Oh… yay” he said. What the hell is all this stuff? Is she quoting Taylor Swift to me?

“Here are two teddy bears. One of them says #1 lover because you are” you said pinching his cheek. “They’re called Lixie and Y/N. Oh! Like us” you said in a baby voice. “And then this picture of me, with Lover from T-Swift lyrics. Do you like it?” you asked.

Felix coughed. “Y-yeah, baby. Love’em” he lied. You kissed him and smiled.

“You’re so sweet. I’m gonna drop these in your room, wait up” you said.

Felix sighed once you were gone, wiping his face with his hands.

In his room, you barely contained your laughter but you tried to keep it down. Poor guy.

The Knicks game was on the TV and was about to start. Felix put the big tray of food and opened the lid. Inside was meat with veggies on it, a very nice decoration, and you hated to say, but you were impressed. Until an idea popped in the back of your head.

You pressed your lips together and let out a fake sob. “Oh, oh this is all my fault, Lix” you whispered, putting a hand over your chest.

He sat down next to you and his eyebrows furrowed. “What happened?” he asked, grabbing your hand.

“I’m– I’m a vegetarian” you sobbed. “It’s just that animal meat makes me sad” you said, fake tears escaping your eyes. The blonde sat frozen in his seat. “It’s-- it’s dead” you said.

He let out an irritated sigh. “I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t know” he muttered, shaking his head.

“It’s okay… this was beautiful. You’re beautiful” you said, wiping your fake tears and rubbing his cheek affectionately.

Later, you both found yourselves in a deli, eating veggie bowls, which Felix found disgusting, and making him completely miss the Knicks game.

You finished the food (who he labeled as cow-food), and he quickly ran to the TV to catch the Knicks game, only to find out it had already finished. He let out a grunt and dropped the remote on the couch. “Fuck” he sighed.

He let himself fall on the couch and you climbed over him, kissing the life out of him. Felix let out a surprised groan and grabbed your ass. You unbuttoned his shirt, a few buttons flying away. You couldn’t admit this to anyone, but you found him exciting.

He smirked against your lips and let his hands wander under your dress, letting his palms rest on your ass.

You wanted to up the game. “Does little Lix want to come out and play?” you groaned in his ear.

His eyes widened, while you kissed down his chest. “Uh, what?”

You lifted your head.

“Little Lix?” he asked, utterly confused.

“Well, we don’t know if he’s big or little, we’re gonna find out” you squealed and resumed kissing your way down to his crotch.

He lifted you up gently by your arm. “No, no. Baby. You can’t just… name my dick” he said with a frown.

Your eyebrows raised. “You… what are you saying? Do you want me to call it… big Lix? Cocky enough, baby?” you said in a baby voice. You almost laughed out loud at the look on his face.

“Uh… I’m-- big Lix is not ready to come out and play” he said, cringing at his own words.

You sighed with a smile. “Well, in that case. I better get going” you said and dropped a kiss to his lips. “Bye honey-bear”

When you were out the door, you snickered.

“It’s getting easier by the minute” you sing-songed with an evil laugh getting inside the elevator when a hand stopped the door from closing.

Felix smiled and got inside, grabbing your waist and lifting you up against the wall of the elevator, kissing you. His tongue got inside your mouth and tangled with yours. Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked against your lips.

You breathed in and licked your lips. “Yep”

“Well, call me” he pecked your lips and then he was out of the elevator.

You grimaced once you made sure he wasn’t looking. “What the hell? This ain’t getting easier”

You needed to up your game, immediately.

--------------

Day 5

The next day in Felix’s office, Hyunjin and Jisung were discussing how you were getting weirder by the time the relationship went on.

“Okay, I thought you said Y/N was a goddess after the Knicks game, little Lix” Hyunjin teased, earning a punch on the shoulder from the blonde.

He laughed. “Well, that was the good Y/N, the smart, cool and sexy woman I met. Not this crazy, evil side she’s showing” he said.

“Maybe she’s bipolar--” Jisung started.

“Muffin!”

The three guys turned around to find you with a dog in hand.

“Y/N baby” he smiled at you, standing up and walking towards you. “We were just talking about you. You are looking absolutely gorgeous” he said.

“Oh, good things I hope, right baby boo?” you cooed.

He pressed his lips together and nodded.

“These are my friends! Hyunjin and Jisung!” he said, pointing behind him and they waved at you.

You gasped. “Oh Lixie told me all about you guys”

“Lixie-Boo told all about you too” Hyunjin teased the blonde, who glared at him.

“Great, well look what I just got you” you sing-songed. “I got you a puppy! His name is… guess what?” you said, clapping your hands together.

He shrugged.

“Little Lix!” you squealed.

Jisung and Hyunjin snickered behind him.

He smiled and tried to think how the fuck he was going to survive six days more if this was going to keep up like this.

When he got home, he put Little Lix in the kitchen and put water and food ready for him. He grabbed his phone and saw his voicemail was full.

You got 17 new messages from Y/N Y/L/N.

“Oh shit” he said.

He listened to every single one of them and he face-palmed himself. This is getting even harder than I thought , he thought.

He got inside the bathroom to wash his face and opened the cabinet. He froze when he found a lot of feminine products and he closed it, turning around to find two toothbrushes and a lot of girly stuff scattered in the bathroom. Felix grabbed his hair and almost yelled out.

“Fucking shit”

-----------------

Day 6

“Girls, I’m telling you. He’s not leaving me“ you said, eating from your ice cream pint.

“Are you being clingy?” Karina asked.

You nodded. “Like a bitch, yeah. I even supplied his bathroom with girly stuff, some of them I don’t even use. Then I gifted him teddy bears and I baby talk to him. I’m whiny and needy? How is he not leaving me?” you asked.

The girls laughed and continued eating ice cream.

“Either way, I gotta think about something before tomorrow” you said.

Ryujin sat up. “Wait, why not tonight?”

“It’s Poker night with his friends” you said. “Boys night”

“You’re giving him boys night?” she asked.

“They do it every week” you shrugged.

“Before… he met… you” she said.

“Ryujin, I love you”

----------------

“Bunny! I’m home!” you said, startling his friends and him.

Felix turned around and his eyebrows furrowed. “Baby, what are you doing here?” he asked, sitting up and putting the blunt he was smoking, in a plate.

“I just… I figured I could stop by and kiss you a little bit, huh? Your friends don’t mind if I steal you for about… an hour or so?” you asked.

He laughed nervously. “Honey, I told you… boys night” he said.

You pretended to be offended. “You… don’t want to see me? Do you- Oh! You think I’m crazy!” you said.

Felix’s eyes widened. “I- No! I don’t think you’re crazy, baby. I just want a boys night with--”

“Oh, I’m sure it was an excuse to hook up with other girls, and oh! I’m sure there’s one hidden here, probably in your bathroom” you fake cried. “I’m out of here, Felix” you said and walked out the door.

He followed you with Little Lix barking behind him.

“Hey, hey, hey. What was all that?” he asked, making you turn around.

You pressed the elevator button and sighed. “What?”

“You acting like a freaking maniac” he said.

You gasped and the elevator dinged. “Oh, I’m sorry. I can’t be with someone who thinks I’m mental. Bye, Felix” you said and the elevator doors closed but he pressed the button so they opened them again.

”No wait. Where’s the fun, cool, beautiful and sexy Y/N I knew? Huh?” Felix asked. “The one who wanted to be a serious journalist? You’re acting insane, like one second you’re up then you’re down!” he said.

You pursed your lips. “So I guess we’re over” you shrugged your shoulders with a glare.

“Fine!”

“Fine” you said and the elevator door closed. You smiled in victory and then it quickly fell. What the hell is happening?

Back in Felix’s apartment, Jisung and Hyunjin almost tackled him. “You’re going back, apologize and get back together with her” Jisung said. “Five more days, man. And that’s it” he said.

“No, wait. Hey. You saw how she acted back there” he said.

“Yes, but if you really want the pitch, then you’re going back to her, apologize and be her little bitch for five. More. days” Hyunjin stated.

“Do you want Son and Park Chaeyoung to be comfortable in their new office? The one that should be ours?” Hyunjin digged.

“No, of course not!” Felix said. “But what do I do? What do I tell her!?”

“Couples therapy! Literally anything” Jisung said.

“Couples therapy?” Felix asked.

This was getting way out of hand.

“Yes, now go!” Hyunjin patted his back and pushed him.

He sprinted off running to the stairs, jumping from three to three. He got to the door just in time when you got out of the building.

“Y/N! Y/N! Wait, baby boo” he said, cringing at his choice of words. “Forgive me, please. I don’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry” he said, kneeling on the ground.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. What the hell was this guy’s problem and why the hell why was he not running away from her?

“Can you give me another chance?” he asked, puppy eyes on.

“Haven’t you had enough?” you asked ironically, but you really meant it this time.

“I’m willing to do anything, Y/N. Please” he said, opening his arms.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, making him stand up, kind of embarrassed that anyone walking down the street could see him like that.

“Like, what do you think about… couples therapy?” he asked.

A light bulb turned on in your brain. Couples therapy, huh?

“Oh, Felix. I know a therapist who’ll do wonders with you. When shall we start?” you said, intrigued about his request.

He nodded. “Tomorrow. Whenever you want” he said, desperately. “Whatever it takes”

“A kiss?” you pouted.

“Thank you, sweetheart” he said and kissed you almost making you tumble at how hard he kissed you. You had to admit, he was one hell of a kisser. “Thank you for understanding”

“Yeah, no problem, baby boo. But you’re still on probation” you said and walked away. “What the fuck did I get myself into?” you whispered to yourself.

---------------

Day 7

“If we’re really doing this, you’ll have to open up, Felix. You hear me?” you whined when you reached the ‘therapist’ apartment.

“Yeah, of course”

You knocked on the door and Karina appeared, wearing a white pajama pants and a shirt, with big ass glasses and a bun. “Y/N Y/L/N, and Felix Lee. Come in” she said with a formal voice.

Your eyebrows wiggled and tried not to laugh. You grabbed Felix’s hand and sat him down on the couch.

“So, before we start. I wanted to ask you how you were gonna pay for this session?” she asked.

You patted Felix’s back. “Sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah. How much is it?” he asked, grabbing his wallet from his jean pocket.

“Three hundred dollars the hour” she said calmly.

His eyes almost bulged out of his school when he heard the price that fell from Karina’s lips. Felix cleared his throat and reached for his wallet. Whatever it takes, then the pitch is yours. He handed Karina the bills and she cleared her throat.

“So, tell me, you guys. How long have you been seeing each other?” she asked.

“Seven days” you replied with a smile.

“Isn’t it too soon to be seeing a therapist?” Felix asked calmly.

You smiled at him. “Well, it isn’t a lifetime but it is--”

“It’s like a week” he said.

You fake gasped and looked at Karina. “Do you hear that tone? How can we not need a therapist when you’re snapping at me like that every goddamn second!” you said rather loudly.

Karina nodded. “How are things between you… I mean… sexually” she digged.

You laughed a little. “Oh, about that… he has a little problem” you said, winking at Karina. “If you know what I mean”

He shook his head. “No, Y/N. Wait. We haven’t had sex yet” he said. “And I don’t have a problem”

“Yes you do”

“No, no I don’t”

“Okay, okay. Look, the one night that we even thought about having sex you called my dick little Lix, or- or big Lix” he said, turning completely to face you. “Without even seeing it!”

“I thought it was beautiful” you said, close to fake crying.

“I see, Felix” Karina said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “When was it that you first realized you were attracted to other men?”

You had to contain your laugh at this. “Oh, it… that’s serious” you agreed.

“What? No! I love women, why-- okay. No, that it’s clearly not what happened” Felix stammered irritatedly.

“I’m hearing a lot of anger that’s been swirling inside of you for a long time, Felix” Karina said, folding her hands together.

You gasped. “Like a rage-aholic”

“No, I’m not a rage-aholic” he shouted.

“Take a deep breath, sweetie” you said, putting your hand on his arm.

“I gotta ask you this one question” Karina said. “Are you ashamed of Y/N?”

He was taken aback by the sudden question.

“Of course he is” you said.

“No, I’m not ashamed of you, Y/N” he said, putting a hand on your back.

Karina cleared her throat. “Then why don’t you… take her to meet your family, for example?” she suggested. You wanted to kill her.

Felix nodded. “Yeah, let’s go do that. You can meet my whole family, let’s go to Staten Island, you can meet them” he smiled.

“Would you like to go to Staten Island?” Karina asked you.

No! Of course not!

“Yes”

-----------------

Day 8

He parked his bike in the driveway of his family house and you were greeted by his mother once you got inside of the house.

“Oh hello, Y/N. I’ve heard so much about you!” her mother appeared with a baby in her arms.

“ Bullshit! ” you heard from the patio.

“My dad and uncles play cards every hour of the day” Felix laughed.

“ Bullshit! ” you heard again.

“You are as pretty as Felix described you on the phone the other--”

“Mom!” Felix whined.

You laughed and shook her hand. “Well, the pleasure is mine, Ms. Lee” you said.

“ Bullshit! ”

“Sweetie!” she scolded over her shoulder. “Excuse me honey, I gotta make my husband shut up for a little bit, here” she said and handed Felix the baby he was holding, who you assumed was his cousin.

Felix grabbed him happily and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at the sight of him holding a baby.

“I’m gonna get him cleaned up, you go out back” he said and dropped a kiss to your lips and then he was gone.

You took a deep breath and went out to the patio, finding who you assumed was his dad and his uncles. His mother saw you and dropped the cards on the table. “Everyone! Guys, everybody meet Y/N, our Felix’s girl!” she squealed.

His dad smiled and shook your hand. “Well, Felix described you as ‘beautiful’ but his words weren’t enough” he complimented you.

You blushed a little and giggled. “Well thank you, Mr. Lee”

“No worries, honey” Mr. Lee winked.

After they introduced you to the whole family, they gave you a couple of cards to play with them.

“The game is called ‘Bullshit’ as you may have heard. And we’re just in the lightning round, sweetie, you came just in time” Mr. Lee said.

Felix suddenly came in and smiled. “Well look at this. I’m gonna beat everyone’s asses, including yours baby” he winked at you, sitting down and grabbing himself some cards.

“I don’t really know how to play”

“Well, here’s the trick. You have to get rid of all the cards in your hand” His dad said.

You nodded and looked at your cards.

“Alright I’m gonna throw and say I have two aces. What do you say?” his dad asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at your cards in hand, noticing you had three aces, which meant he could only have one. “I say bullshit”

“What did you say?” he smiled.

“I say… bullshit!” you said and everyone around you cheered.

After a couple of rounds where everyone except Felix was helping you out to win just to make him lose, you found yourself having fun, more than you had expected and more than the fun you’ve got this couple of months. The feeling was strange.

“Okay, I’ve got two kings”

You looked around and his family shook their heads. Felix caught them cheating and gasped.

“You all are cheating!” he said, making all of you laugh. “Baby! That’s treason!” he laughed.

You just laughed at him and showed him your cards. “Yep. But I won!”

“And that makes him have the lowest score out of all of us in Bullshit thanks to you, for the first time ever! I say we expect you to come here sooner” his mom said, standing up and drawing his score on a chalkboard.

You laughed. “Why? Were all his other girlfriends Bullshit losers?” you asked, sipping on your drink.

“What other girlfriends? He’s the first girl he’s ever brought home” her mom said and hugged you.

First girl he’s ever brought home? You felt special. You hated to admit it, but it was true.

“Don’t you break his heart” she whispered with a little smile and walked away.

It’s a little too late for that now.

-----------------

After the game, Felix offered to take you for a ride to meet the island on his bike. You accepted, and the blonde took you everywhere. For ice cream, for lunch, to walk in the park, down the port, everywhere. He even taught you how to ride his bike. You couldn’t help it but you felt the butterflies kicking your stomach everytime he smiled or looked at you. And he felt the same. He felt at peace that the fighting and craziness was over for good.

At a certain hour, it started to rain, soaking you from head to toe. You arrived at his home, you rode the bike while he was behind you.

He got you inside of the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

“Alright madam, let’s have a shower, what do you say?“ he asked and turned on the hot water.

You nodded and sat on the sink, thinking about why the hell did you accept to do this to this guy. He was perfect and so good with you. If you ever told him the truth, he’d hate you, and you’d lose him.

“You can shower first if you want” he said, drying his hand with a towel.

You bit your lip and sighed.

“Is everything all right?” he asked, putting his hands on your legs, his eyes finding yours.

You smiled at him, caressing his cheek. “It’s more than okay” you said in a low voice.

He kissed your palm and pinched your leg a little. “Then tell me what’s wrong. You don’t seem okay”

You let out a breath. “I think… when your mother hugged me today, like… she really hugged me” you said, your eyes getting teary. “For winning a game at Bullshit. Like I was a part of the family” you said, a tear flowing down your cheek.

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed and he put a hand on your cheek. “But that’s a good thing, baby. Smile for me” he said with a little grin, poking your cheek with his pointer finger.

You smiled for him and his grew bigger. Your noses were almost touching and it confirmed for the both of you. Both bets were a huge mistake.

He brought your head closer to his and kissed your lips. You pulled away and searched for something in his eyes, something that would give you a red flag. You found just a glint and lust in his eyes. You kissed him again, opening your mouth for his tongue to come inside your mouth and sighed at the feeling.

Felix pulled away and you lifted your hands up, so that he could take your shirt off. He complied and saw that you weren’t wearing a bra. His eyes darkened and you hopped off the counter to take his shirt too.

You dropped it to the ground and then went to unbuckle his jeans while he did the same to yours. He pushed your panties to the ground and he pushed his underwear, too.

Felix grabbed your thighs, hoisting you up, making your legs wrap around his torso and kissed you again. He got inside the shower and pressed you against the cold tiles. His mouth on yours felt heavenly, and with every brush of his tonguey you got more and more wetter by the second.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful” he whispered against your neck. He kissed a couple of hickeys on it and then came back to your mouth.

If anyone walked past the bathroom, they would’ve heard the breathy moans the two of you emitted and the slapping of skin on skin sound. Once you came and he did on your stomach, you stayed staring at each other. Guilt was in his eyes, thinking that you, a beautiful woman he had managed to fall in love with, and probably she did as well, was part of a stupid bet to get a stupid pitch.

You dropped your forehead on his and sighed with a smile. “That was amazing, Lix. Little Lix down there wasn't so little, huh?” you joked, making him laugh out loud.

“Well, what can I say? I’m full of surprises” he said.

You got down and you washed each other. As his arms came around you from behind and you couldn’t help but feel like shit.

If only he knew.

In the meantime, Felix rested his chin on your shoulder, leaving a little peck on your skin. He closed his eyes as soon as his lips touched you, feeling the guilt and regret wash over him.

He didn’t know how he was going to tell you, but there was one thing he knew it was certain: he didn’t deserve you.

At least, that’s what he thought.

------------------

Day 9

The ferry arrived at Manhattan and he drove his bike back to your home. He got down from the bike and walked you to the building entrance.

“Well, this is home” you said, dropping his hand.

He nodded and smiled at you. “Uh, Y/N? I wanted to ask you back at Staten but uh… my boss is throwing this party for the diamond account I was telling you about and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? You know… as my date?” Felix asked, clearly nervous. “As my girlfriend” he stated.

You smiled at him and put your hand on his cheek. “Are you calling me your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I am” he said, sure of himself.

You pressed your lips together. “Tomorrow will be the tenth day of seeing each other.”

“I know” he said with a sigh. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow huh?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Should I dress fancy?” you asked.

“As fancy as you want… but still fancy” he said.

You nodded. “Perfect” you pressed a kiss to his lips and when you pulled away, you hugged him. He felt so good. You didn’t want to let him go just yet, or tell him what you were doing, or him to find out via the magazine.

As you pulled away, he kissed your head and let you go inside.

“Bye” you blew him a kiss.

“Bye”

---------------

Day 10 - final day-

You barged inside Seulgi’s office with a very worried face on you. You let out a breath and sat down on the couch.

“Seulgi? I can’t- I can’t write this article” you stated.

Her eyebrows furrowed and sat down on her chair. “What? Why not? Is your computer broken or something? Figure it out”

“No, it’s not that” you said. “I just… I’ve got to know this guy. He’s amazing. He doesn't deserve this, I really like him, Seulgi. Please” you pleaded.

“Okay. Who’s the boss here?”

“You” you sighed.

“Then you write what I tell you to write. And that means the article” she said strictly, not even bothering to look at you while she was paging down a magazine. “You’ll do the article, because you are a professional. That’s what professionals do”

“Yes I am” you whispered.

“Great. Now go. I want the article in less than 48 hours”

-----------------

The night fell and Felix arrived at your house. He was wearing a fancy tux, but he managed to keep it a little less formal. He took a deep breath and cracked his neck. Felix grabbed his phone and sent you a text.

Lix: I’m here xx

He blushed at the thought of you on a fancy dress. His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating in his pocket.

You: be right down. Wait up xx

His heart picked up speed when he heard the door of your building opening. You stood there with a yellow fancy dress with an open cut back. You did a little twirled and took a second to admire him. He was so beautiful, it hurt your eyes.

The chauffeur from his car smiled at the interaction.

“Hey” you said timidly.

He just stared, he couldn’t believe you were his.

“Wow, you are so beautiful” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips.

You blushed and ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re looking good too, sparky” you said putting your arm around his and getting inside the car.

Once you reached the museum, you could only gawk at how much diamonds were used for this party. It almost hurt your eyes.

“Wow, okay. This wasn’t what I expected at all” you said, looking up only to find a very big, sparkly chandelier.

Felix nodded, chuckling at your face. “You should come more often to these things with me”

You gasped and elbowed him. “What? So you can see me with a fancy dress more often?”

He shrugged. “Maybe” he teased, making you laugh.

Hyunjin and Jisung appeared wearing very formal suits and they waved at you. “Hey guys” you said.

“Oh, great. Stay with them, I’ll go grab us some champagne” he said, kissing your cheek.

You smiled at him and watched him leave while Jisung told an incredibly boring story of how he managed to get a date.

“Uh, guys. I’ll go sit by the table, there are some snacks there. If you’ll excuse me” you said, and excused yourself, really not wanting to deal with those noisy boys.

Hyunjin and Jisung stood watching you when they felt hands on their shoulders. The Chaeyoung’s were staring at them with an evil grin on them.

“News for you guys” Son Chaeyoung said.

They looked at each other. “We don’t want to deal with you snakes today” Jisung said.

Park Chaeyoung scoffed. “I just wanted to let you guys know that we know that Felix cheated” she said.

Hyunjin’s eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean cheated?” he asked in a monotone voice.

“We know he told this girl about the bet even before they started dating” Park Chaeyoung said.

Jisung and Hyunjin looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“We’ll go tell Mr. Park if you don’t hurry up” Son Chaeyoung said, and then, they were gone.

“Shit, we gotta do something” Jisung said.

They ran to the table you were sitting and sat down next to you, startling you mid-eating a snack. You furrowed your eyebrows at their state.

“Hey, Y/N. We know you know about the bet. Okay? And we need you to play dumb when Mr. Park asks you if you fell in love with Felix” Hyunjin said.

Your stomach dropped. A bet? What bet? You were about to ask until it dawned in you. This was all a bet. Felix made a bet, in which he had to make you fall in love with him (in which he succeeded).

“A bet?” you asked in a small voice.

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, the bet… you know, he’d get the pitch if you fell in love with him” he said.

You played dumb. “Of course” you faked a smile. Internally you were just trying to keep the tears to yourself.

Meanwhile…

Felix was heading to their table when Kang Seulgi intercepted him.

“Hello Felix. What a pleasure it is to see you” she said with a smile.

He nodded and smiled at the elderly woman. “Yeah, nice to see you too. I gotta head back to my table, there’s this beautiful woman waiting for me-- right there” he said with a smug grin and pointed at you.

Seulgi perked up and gasped. “Y/N? Oh she’s my How-To girl in Composure” she said.

“Your How-To girl?” he asked confusedly.

“Yes. Right now she’s working on an article called How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days” she said and his smile visibly dropped. You were just using him for… an article? Her laugh made him come back from his thoughts. “This poor guy she’s been pretending to date-- wait, she’s actually dating this guy trying to scare him off by making mistakes girls do when--” when she saw the face that Felix and she stopped talking, realizing he was the guy you were dating. “Oh… oh, I’m sorry” she whispered and excused herself.

He pressed his lips together and downed his champagne glass. He saw you getting up from your chair, grabbed your purse and headed for the exit. Felix followed you, steam flying out of his ears.

When you reached the street you heard his shouting. “No, no, no. Y/N Y/L/N get back here” he said.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him.

“You used me! Just to get a stupid fucking pitch! You played with my feelings, you made me believe you actually care about me” you yelled at him.

Your words would’ve hurt him if he wasn’t angry enough about the article thing.

“I used you? You drove me insane for that article from your stupid magazine, okay?” he said angrily.

“You told people you could make me fall in love with you, like I’m just some random girl that needed saving, you backstabbing jerk” you said, hitting him with your purse.

Felix stood, pressing his lips together, figuring out what to say next. “So that was what I was, huh? A stupid guinea pig you could use for your experiments?”

“Yeah and I was just some girl you picked up from a bar because you feel bad for her, sitting all alone with a drink in her hands” you said more calmly.

He chuckled ironically. “Well, you did it. Good job. You wanted to see if you could lose a guy in 10 days, congratulations. You just lost him” he said, and turned away from you.

“No, I didn’t, Felix”

He turned back to face you.

“Because you can’t lose what you never had” you cried out.

He watched as you turned away and called a cab. His heart was hurting so much. Felix took a shaky breath in and headed back to the party.

---------------

Day 11

“Well, this wasn't what I was expecting” Seulgi said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “But it’s better” she said gladly.

You chuckled and smiled at her. “I’m glad you like it”

“Now this is my time to free you from my leash. You can write whatever you want now” she said, putting your recently printed article in a folder.

Your eyebrows perked up at her saying. “That means I can write like… about politics, economics, religion, or--”

“No, Y/N. Whatever you want means what Composure is about, shoes, dramas, what’s new in Oscar de La Renta’s new dresses, you get what I mean” Seulgi said, flicking her wrist at you.

This wasn’t what you expected. Writing an article about a guy you did end up falling in love with wasn’t even worth it. In the end, Kang Seulgi had tricked you into making you write whatever she wanted.

You nodded and sighed. “Thank you for the opportunity, Seulgi” you said slowly. She smiled at you. “And thank you for making it easier for me to turn it down” you said, heading for the door. “My resignation letter will be arriving at your mail very soon” you said and then you were out of the door, leaving Seulgi shocked to her very core.

-------------------

Felix was in his office, Little Lix in his arms and he let out a sigh, looking at the Knicks game he did not attend. The tickets were laying on his desk, he had planned to give them to you after the party but that did not end up well.

A knock on his door startled him. “Hey, my man. I’ve got something for you” Hyunjin said, sitting down on a chair.

He saw it was a Composure magazine and he let out a sigh.

“I’m not gonna read that”

“No, you should” he said. Felix just shook his head and dropped Little Lix on the floor. “Okay. You win. I’ll read it to you” Hyunjin said and Felix was about to protest but he held his hands up. “ I’ve lost a guy. And I don’t know why. What went wrong? When I started writing this month’s column, I wanted to commit those certain silly dating mistakes we all commit at some time. But what I didn’t realize was that I was making the biggest mistake of my life ” he said, he lifted his eyes to watch the blonde, who was looking at the floor, with glassy eyes. “Here, read it. Trust me” he said, dropping the magazine on his desk and then he was out of his office.

He sighed and grabbed it, turning to the page where your article was. He started reading and he noticed some important lines: “ I lost the only guy I’ve ever fallen for ”; “ Best 10 days of my life ”, and one that he wasn’t expecting at all. “ This is my last article for Composure ”

His eyebrows furrowed and an idea popped in his head.

A few minutes later, he was running down Composure’s office asking everyone where the hell was your office located. He won a few glares from most of the girls but right now, he didn’t give a fuck.

He found it, and noticed it was empty. Fucking shit, Felix internally cursed. He saw a woman standing right next to her office.

“Excuse me, Ma’m” he said.

Ryujin turned around abruptly. “Holy crap. You’re Felix”

“I know. Tell me where’s Y/N” he said urgently.

“She quit” Karina appeared from behind him.

He turned around and noticed a familiarity with the girl.

“She’s got an interview right now, in Washington” Ryujin said.

“When?”

“Like, right now. She’s leaving right now” Ryujin said, checking her watch.

He turned to leave but not before he turned to face Karina. “You’re not a therapist aren’t you?”

She looked confused until she burst out laughing. “No, I’m not”

“Good job. You owe me 300 dollars”

----------------

You leaned your head on the taxi window, letting out a sigh, thinking about the events that took place that week. You knew that Composure wasn’t the best option for you since Seulgi had always done the same shit over and over again, making you think you could write about something more interesting than fashion and then taking your emotion with her. You rubbed your forehead and allowed yourself to think about Felix. There wasn’t a time that you didn’t regret what happened, but looking at the other side, he made a bet too.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you reached the Brooklyn bridge and saw someone riding a very familiar bike, wearing a very familiar helmet. Oh shit, that’s Felix.

“Sir, please pull over” Felix yelled.

You gasped at the scene. “What-- Felix? What are you doing?” you yelled. “Sir, pull over please?”

“Are you crazy, woman? We’re in the middle of the bridge�� the chauffeur said.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not feeling well, I think I’m about to puke”

“Alright, you win” he grumbled.

You got out of the car and saw him pulling the helmet over his head. “What the fuck is this Felix?” you yelled at him.

He sighed and handed you the magazine.

“Is it true?” he asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Dammit, Y/N, what you wrote in the magazine. Or were you just trying to sell a magazine?”

“I meant every word, Felix” you said, your eyes getting teary. “But that doesn’t change anything, does it?”

“It does, and you’re running away” he said.

“I’m not!” You yelled out in a high-pitched voice.

“Yes, you are. To Washington” he said.

You rolled your eyes, pinching your eyebrows. “Yes, but it’s an interview. Besides, what do you care?”

Felix was taken aback by it. “What do I care? I fucking love you Y/N. But I need to be sure it’s true”

“I already told you. It’s true and I… I love you too, Felix. But--” you said-

“But what?” he asked, stepping closer to you.

“I can’t write here. I applied for a job where I know I can write about whatever the fuck I want without a bitch that tells me I need to write what it’s accord to my gender” you said, and turned away to get back to the taxi.

“Bullshit”

You stopped in your tracks. “Excuse me?”

“Bullshit. You heard me” he said, stepping closer to you.

You couldn’t move. He reached until your noses were practically touching. He handed a couple of bills to the taxi driver and told him to send your bags back to your apartment.

“You’re having alternate transportation from now on” he said.

You sighed and looked at him, your eyes watery.

“Really? Are you serious?” you asked with a broken chuckle.

“You bet I am” he said and put his hands on your face, bringing you to a passionate kiss. You melted on it and put your arms around his neck, sighing into it. You felt complete. Finally. “I love you, so much” he said against your lips, letting his nose rub against yours.

“I love you, I love you, I love you” you mumbled, each ‘i love you’ with a kiss.

“Okay, so are you two gonna let me drive back to the ladies apartment or what?” the taxi driver grumbled, making you two laugh.

You couldn't believe how perfect this moment was. How it all started with a bet and an article that was meant for you two to find each other.

Fin.

-----------------------

i hope you liked it :) there are more Felix's fics coming in, i've been pretty busy

#stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz smut #skz imagines #felix x reader #felix x female reader #lee felix x reader #lee felix #skz felix #skz x felix #felix #felix lee #lee felix smut #felix smut #felix fluff #how to lose a guy in 10 days

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casuallyobssessed · 2 days ago

Text

Fairytales & Firesides - Bodyguard!John Wick x Fem!Reader ❥ 6.1k Words

A/N: My Keanuverse Secret Santa gift for @at-wicks-end, hosted by @97keanu ! I hope you love it! P.S. I don't live in an area that gets snow, sorry if this is inaccurate! 🫶🏼

Before You Read: bodyguard AU, fluff, canon typical violence/descriptions of violence, short-ish slow burn (I tried lol), angst, no beta, use of Y/N, :3c

gif creds to dalekinapaintedparadise - divider by bleachbambi

Archive of Our Own Link

Winter crashes into the mountains like a raging bull, forcing you inside for the foreseeable future. Sleet and snow dominate the weather forecast, rendering the outdoors dangerous in more ways than one. While the snow comes down, you could usually be found tucked away in your home library. Warm light from the fireplace bathes you in an orange and red glow as you curl up in your comfiest chair with one of your many books. This has always been your treasured safe space.

At least, it was, until things with your uncle got more complicated. For a while now, you've been living in one of your uncle's mansions, kind of doing whatever you want. He allows you to stay there only because you promised to look after the place every winter when there aren't as many people around to help on the property due to the snowfall in the mountains.

Your uncle, Diego, is into some pretty shady stuff. Gangs, drugs, secret societies? You name it, he has his fingers in it. Recently, Diego had some kind of drug deal gone bad with a very prestigious group of people involved. Since then, they've hired a hit on your uncle and any of your family that they can get their hands on. A distant cousin, one aunt, and your great grandfather have all fallen victim to revenge killings. Diego fears that you could be next since you live in one of his properties, so he's hired a selection of bodyguards for your protection.

Unfortunately, the newly hired muscle made your comfort space feel more like a prison. As silly as it might sound, you felt like a princess locked away in her secluded tower. Being a full grown adult, something like this seemed like overkill. You didn't need twenty four seven protection from everything that goes bump in the night, but you were dependent on Diego’s generosity, so you accepted his offer of security with gritted teeth.

As the time passed, your bodyguards came and went. You never had the same one for more than a week at a time. Many of them were kind to you, and thankfully, only one of them had been a creep. They were promptly dealt with (according to Diego, anyway).

It didn't take too long for daily life to start losing its spark. You plowed through a good portion of your books in the first couple of weeks. This prompted you to start writing your own book. Really, it was more of a journal documenting your experience, but who said it couldn't be both?

The guards were usually your only contact with the outside world, so you appreciated your conversations with them. Trading stories of their heroic actions for your recounts of the fantasy books you had been reading, you were able to keep your imagination running wild and your notebooks full of ideas.

After one particularly difficult week, Sunday rolled around and it was time for a new guard. You bid farewell to the previous one and patiently waited to meet the lucky new bodyguard. Diego would brief them on their duties before they were dispatched to your side. You just hope they were kinder than the last.

Your newest guard is set to find you on the floor in your library, busy reviewing pieces of your story journal. The click of the door opening snatches you back to reality, turning your attention to the man entering your sanctuary. Standing up, you step over your journal and various papers scattered around the floor, and slowly walk over to where he stood.

“Good Morning, Ms.Y/N,” His voice is as smooth as honey.

“It's nice to meet you,” You offer your hand and he takes it, giving it a firm shake, ”What's your name?”

“John. I see that you're busy, I'll keep out of your way.”

John looks past you, at the chaos spread about the room, and gives you a curt nod before assuming his post by the door. You return to work on your journal, hoping he doesn't notice the urgency in your writing as you occasionally steal glances at him, documenting the handsome new guard.

John is not a bad looking man. He stands a good bit taller than you with slicked back, dark hair and a matching, well groomed beard. He has beautiful brown eyes that twinkle as though they hold the secrets to the universe. Maybe that last part is all in your head, but there's certainly something mysterious about this man that captivates you.

Out of your way is where John stays for the next couple of days, quiet and mostly indifferent to your presence. He followed you whenever you left your library but kept a distance either in front or behind you. At night, he sat on the couch in the far corner of your room. Under normal circumstances, it would have made you too uneasy to have someone watching you sleep, but after weeks of constant surveillance, you were used to it.

Come the third day, you are determined to break the ice with him. Two days of no conversation other than one word responses was driving you mad. It never took this long for a guard to warm up to you. So, you decide that you are going to try your best to get some kind of response out of him.

Small talk definitely isn't going to work. This man is clearly not one to gossip or discuss the weather with. Your first attempt is to ask him about current events. ‘What's the world like out there right now? Anything important happening that I should know about?’ You're met with only a shrug and a small, well meaning smile. Strike one.

Next, you try asking him about himself and his home life. ‘Have anyone at home missing you while you're busy here? Do you have any pets?’ Unfortunately, these questions don't receive much of a response either, not even so much as a shrug. The look in his eyes hardened after the first question, though. You figure it's best not to push it. Strike two.

For your last attempt, you decide to ask him if he has any interesting stories about jobs he's had in the past. This was a common question you had for your guards as their answers would usually help inspire your writing. ‘Do you have any cool action stories or experiences you could share? I can tell you about some of the books I've been reading in exchange!’ Finally, John looks at you with somewhat of an amused expression on his face. It's the most emotion you've gotten out of him, so far, but he doesn't say anything. Strike three. You're out!

…Or are you?

John shifts on his feet before clearing his throat to speak, “I suppose there are a few I could share with you.”

“Awesome. Let me grab my notebook,” you say incredibly calmly, desperate not to give away your excitement. Mentally, you're doing a celebratory victory dance.

For hours, you two trade stories. His were outlandish, but true. Each story is more nail bitingly exciting than the last. Yours range from the worst romance novels you've ever read, to the best fantasy books you have shelved in your library. You filled half your journal with wonderful ideas thanks to John. And on top of that, it seems like he is getting more comfortable with talking to you. It's an overall win-win for you.

That night, you become keenly aware of John in the corner of your room, reading one of the books you suggested to him. You're not sure what changed, but you feel very differently about having him here. Sure, you feel protected, but something inside you has started to feel warm and gooey knowing he's always nearby. Maybe you just need a good night's rest. It's been a long day. You snuggle up underneath your comforter and drift off to sleep.

The next morning you wake yourself up from tossing and turning. You can't catch your breath, you're completely flushed, and your heart is racing. It takes a moment, but suddenly your dream from last night comes flooding back and you're blushing like a schoolgirl.

You had a dream about John. Oh God. Your cheeks must be burning bright red from embarrassment. Looking over at John, he is seemingly still asleep. His eyes are closed, head leaned back, arms crossed on his chest, and legs spread wide. You wonder what would happen if you were to crawl between those long legs and… Nope! Nuh uh! Shaking the rogue thoughts from your head, you promptly get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom. You need a cold shower, pronto.

Upon returning from your shower, John was finally awake, reading the same book from the night before. Realizing you’re back and wearing only a towel, John excuses himself and steps outside the door to wait for you to change.

You don't know how you're supposed to face him, but you know that the thoughts you're having aren't fair towards him. John has been completely professional with you while he's been here and it would be inappropriate of you to cross that line.

Getting dressed quickly, you pick out a pair of plaid pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt. Never leaving the house has some perks. You rarely have to get dressed up in stiff, fancy clothes unless you really want to. Days like today, you can lounge around in pajamas with no consequence.

Once you’re finished dressing, you leave your room and briskly walk past John without a word. You don't necessarily want to be cold towards him, but until you get a grip on yourself, it's probably better that way.

John dutifully follows you back to the library and posts up by the door. You tend to the fireplace, rekindle it as needed, and then plop yourself onto the bench next to the window adjacent to the hearth. Frost is crawling up the edges of the window, obscuring your view only slightly. As you stare out into the wintry wonderland, you try your best not to think about John and the contents of your dream.

Instead, you focus on the snowflakes as they dance down from the sky in a flurry and collect on the ground below. With how soft the snow looks, you have no trouble imagining yourself making the perfect snow angel, right in the front yard. You're not sure if going out there is the best idea, given the weather and the unpredictable danger, but a little freedom might just be what you need right now.

Maybe if you move fast enough, you could get past John and escape outside. It was worth a shot. You nonchalantly rise up from the bench and silently shuffle back to your room. John trails along behind you, looking moderately confused. You hurriedly shut the bedroom door, accidentally closing it in his face.

“Sorry, John! Give me a minute, I'm changing again,” You call out.

A muffled ‘Okay’ can be heard as you dig through your closet looking for your puffy winter coat. You find it half shoved in the back corner, dangling precariously on its hanger. After pulling your coat on, you slide into your snow boots, wriggle your fingers into your gloves, and head towards the front door.

As fate would have it, a big coat and snow boots are not the smartest choices when you're trying to move fast. You make it as far as the foyer, reaching for the door handle before he stops you. So much for keeping your distance from him today.

“Ms. Y/N, where do you think you're going?” John grabs your arm tightly enough to keep you in place. You try shrugging him off, but he's got too strong of a grip on you.

“Outside. I want to see the snow.”

“You can see the snow from in here,” He responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

“I want to feel it, John. I want to remember what it's like to breathe fresh air.”

“It's my job to keep you safe. Inside,” He replies sternly.

“I'm going out and you are not going to stop me,” You spit back at him, putting your foot down.

John reluctantly lets you go and takes a step back. He considers you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Fine. Diego won't be pleased, but at least let me put on my coat.”

You oblige his request and wait for him patiently until he returns wearing his heavy, black coat. Though you do feel a little bad for how you spoke to him, you don't regret it. You have been cooped up in this house for far too long.

John insists on stepping outside first to make sure it's clear before allowing you to follow him. The second you cross the threshold, cold, crisp air hits your face and you breathe a sigh of relief. Being inside all the time gets incredibly stuffy and winter isn't the ideal time to be opening windows to air things out. You stare up into the sky as snowflakes land on your face, only to melt against your skin.

Everything is still and quiet. From the house to the trees, it's a peaceful, untouched spread of snow, give or take a few sparse animal tracks. Off to the side, John is watching you and your surroundings with a sharp eye.

You trudge around in the snow looking for the best place to make your masterpiece. Just in front of the windows to the library, you find the perfect spot.

Without another thought, you fall back into the snow, moving your arms and legs to create the shape of a snow angel. You feel as giddy as a kid, smiling ear to ear and laughing like a fool. Who knew something as simple as playing in the snow could make you feel so happy, so free?

“John, come on! Make a snow angel with me. Please?” You’re begging him to have some fun with you even though half an hour ago you were plotting how you could avoid him indefinitely.

His footsteps crunch in the snow until he's standing over you with a smile almost as wide as yours as you look up at him. You feel as though the heavens have opened up and you're staring directly at an angel. The frost nipping at your nose pales in comparison to the heat bursting inside your chest.

He solemnly shakes his head at you, “I can't, I'm sorry.”

You stay like that for a bit until the cold from the snow starts to overwhelm you through your coat and pajama pants, sending chills down your spine. You stand up from the ground to admire your handiwork. It's a solid outline if you ignore John's big footprints in the snow above the head. You decide it's an easy eight out of ten.

Satisfied with your creation, you move on to your next activity. You scoop up a handful of snow and pat it into a ball in your hands. Luckily for you, John is turned away, distracted by something off in the distance near the trees. Now’s the perfect chance to strike.

You wind up your arm and toss the snowball at him, smacking him squarely between the shoulder blades. Pumping your fist in the air, you holler out a loud ‘Yes!’

You hear an exasperated sigh come from John, and quickly, you realize you may have messed up and taken things too far.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-” Your apology is cut off by John whipping around, grabbing a fistful of snow, forming it hastily in his hands, and then throwing it at you, landing in the center of your chest.

Stunned, you let out a loud laugh before returning fire. John obviously has the better aim of you two. Missing every other shot was an improvement for you, while he was landing every hit flawlessly.

Unsurprising to you, John ends up as the winner of the snowball fight. You gave up once your stomach started rumbling and you realized that you hadn't eaten any breakfast yet. Hungry and defeated, you head back inside with your bodyguard in tow.

In the foyer, you strip off your coat, gloves, and boots, tossing them to the side. You had plenty of time to worry about them later. John hangs his coat up carefully on the coat rack and turns to you expectantly.

“Thank you for going out there with me. That was a lot of fun,” You exclaim while rubbing your hands together to bring back the feeling in them.

“It can't happen again, but you're welcome,” He looks genuinely sorry.

“I know,” You understand the danger, but you wish things were different, “Are you hungry? I can make us some mean pancakes.”

“Sure, Ms. Y/N,” Once again, John is smiling at you and it's enough to ignite even the coldest parts of you. There was no way on earth you could keep trying to avoid him when he made you feel this way with just a smile.

Breakfast went off without a hitch. Well, there may have been a minor hitch involving the pancake batter, but John stepped in and saved the day. He ended up offering to take over the process entirely, and you agreed. That gave you a chance to watch him do something besides stand still and look all serious.

Once you’re done eating and all the breakfast dishes are clean, you scurry back to your library with John right behind you. Your journal and miscellaneous papers are still spread around the floor from the night before. John had really given you some wonderful stories to fuel your imagination, and now it's time to incorporate them into your book.

By the door, John stands perfectly still, aside from the sly glances he throws your way. Seeing him stand over there by himself tugged at your heartstrings a bit after the eventful morning you've had. It suddenly felt very selfish to have someone on their feet, at attention, all day and night just for you. From your seat on the floor, you gesture to the chair right beside you.

“You can sit down if you want. I'm sure you can still protect me from any threats just as well over here.”

“Thank you for the offer, Ms. Y/N, but it's in your best interest if I stay here.”

“Are you sure?” You think for a moment and then continue, “What if I said I felt way more safe with you sitting next to me?”

John gives you a hint of a smile before quickly resuming his professional poker face, “I really shouldn't… but if it makes you feel safer, I guess I can do that.”

You lean over and pat the cushion of your comfy chair, encouraging him to sit. He makes his way over to you and sits in your chair, sinking down into it like it was made for him. After a few minutes of sitting together in silence as you worked, you begin to wonder when the last time he was truly able to relax was.

“Hey John?” You look up at him, journal in hand.

“Mhm?” His voice thick with unease as he looks down at you.

“Can I read you some of what I have written so far? Will you tell me what you think?”

“Sure.”

Ever so slowly, John starts to truly relax as he listens to you. He spreads his legs just so and lets his shoulders ease back into a comfortable position, listening to you intently as you tell him your story enthusiastically. You stop occasionally to get his opinion on a set of dialogue or how a sentence is phrased and he's more than happy to advise you. By the end of the day with him, you've completely filled another notebook and you've fallen totally head over heels for John.

The next few days pass by in a blur. John assists you in nearly completing your book, lets you sneak outside again (a couple, glorious times), and he even makes breakfast for you on Saturday morning.

On Saturday evening, knowing that he'll have to leave soon, you convince him to have a movie night with you by letting him pick whatever movie he wants. You make a huge bowl of popcorn for the occasion and get settled on the couch while John peruses your Uncle's movie collection. He decides on an obscure western you've never heard of, and settles onto the couch, leaving one seat's worth of space between you for the popcorn bowl.

Subconsciously, you wish he was sitting closer, but you'll have to settle for accidentally touching hands while reaching for popcorn at the same time.

So far, the movie is a total snoozefest. You wouldn't dare say that to John, considering he seems to be enjoying it. If it weren't for his proximity to you keeping your heart racing, you definitely would have nodded off by now. Surprisingly quickly you run out of popcorn, so you set the bowl on the coffee table to get it out of the way and break down that final barrier between you and John.

Half way through the movie, you find yourself scooting inches closer to John. You hope he doesn't notice, but something about him just has a magnetic pull that draws you in effortlessly.

Now three fourths of the way through the movie, you start to feel brave. Taking notice of how lonely his hand looks resting on his thigh, you make the bold move to place your hand over his during a particularly high action scene. His hand is warm against yours and the feeling sends tingles through your fingertips.

You're pleasantly surprised when John doesn't shrug you off, but instead looks over at you with a small smile, before lacing his fingers with yours. Your heart is thumping inside your chest as he gives your hand a squeeze, but you're sure it's going to explode when he lets go of your hand to pull you into his lap.

Your senses are overwhelmed as you get a light whiff of the warm spice of his cologne as you lean in close, taking all of him in. His hands are gently holding your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. You look to him for silent permission before closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. The feeling in the air is positively electric as his lips meet yours.

The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours. John's the one who breaks away from you first, looking absolutely debauched. His hair is slightly tousled, cheeks and lips are brushed red, and the lustful look in his eye is burning a hole right through to your center.

It's him who decides to ignore the tenting in his pants and politely recommends that you go to bed. As much as it kills you to do so, you reluctantly peel yourself off of him and go straight to your room to take another painfully cold shower.

Your entire night is filled with another round of tossing and turning mixed with racy dreams featuring your bodyguard, who never finds his way into your room throughout the night. You assume he's keeping watch from the living room, only slightly neglecting his duties of having an eye on you at all times.

Saying goodbye to John the next morning may have been one of the most difficult things you've ever had to do. No amount of begging or tears could have changed Diego's mind. ‘Getting attached to these people is like falling in love with a mutt you know you can't keep. They're here for your protection, Y/N, not for you to play with.’ His words stung. Even if it was the truth, you didn't want to hear it.

With tears in your eyes, you watch through one of the library windows as John's car retreats down the driveway. The hole in your chest feels massive, like it’s destined to swallow you whole if you aren't careful. Holding yourself tight, you curl up in your comfy chair and cry. It's the only thing you can muster the energy for.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

You're startled awake from your sleep by loud, insistent thuds of the brass door knocker echoing throughout the otherwise silent house. You're not sure how long you’ve been out for, but the sun has gone down and the only light left is coming from the crackling embers in the fireplace. Rubbing your eyes, you drag your feet to the front door and open it without thinking twice.

Standing on the other side is a wall of a man. He has to be taller than John by at least half a foot, and twice as wide. He's wearing a simple black suit, not unlike something one of your bodyguards would wear during their time here. That must be it, he’s the newest guard hired by Diego. Since you had been asleep, you haven't checked your phone yet to see if you had any missed calls from him.

“Y/N, I assume?” His voice sounds like gravel, in an unpleasant sort of way. It lands roughly on your ears and makes you wince.

“That would be me. Did Diego send you?”

The man ignores your question and gestures towards the foyer, “Can I come in? It's freezing out here.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry, come on in.”

As you step back to allow him through, he slams a massive hand against the door, knocking it wide open and shoving you harshly onto the floor. Before you can make sense of what's going on, he's got a hand in your hair, dragging you further into the house.

You kick and scream as he lugs you down the hall and into one of the spare bedrooms. You try digging your nails into the back of his hand but he doesn't seem affected by the pain as he picks you up off the floor and tosses you onto the bed. The second he lets go of your hair, you scramble off the bed and towards the door. In a flash, the man grabs you by the ankles and drags you back over to the bed.

This time, when he chunks you on the mattress, he produces a gun from his waistband and places the cold barrel directly against your forehead.

“Don't move again or I'm gonna blow your fuckin’ brains out.”

Your eye twitches as you stare at him, afraid to even blink. He puts the gun back in his waistband and reaches into a pocket inside of his suit jacket. Out of his it, he pulls a pair of shiny metallic handcuffs.

You're tempted to make another run for it, but you recall the feeling of his gun against your skin and you decide better of it. He grabs one of your wrists and slaps a cuff onto it, and when he reaches for your other wrist, you snatch it away.

This appears to be your second mistake of the night. The man rears back and slaps you harder than you've ever felt before.

“Stop acting like a brat,” He hisses at you.

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as pain shoots through the side of your face. You barely register it as he successfully grabs your hand and places the remaining cuff around your wrist a little too tightly. The cuffs dig into your skin painfully, taking your mind off of the pounding in your head.

The mystery man paces around the room checking the windows and shutting the bedroom door before stopping in front of you. He places a hand on your shoulder and clears his throat to speak.

“All right, listen. Here's how this is gonna go. When I get the go ahead from my Boss, I'm gonna kill you. Until then, we wait.”

You shrug his hand off your shoulder and your brain starts to spiral into full blown panic mode. There's no way you can muscle your way out of this. You could try playing the money card, he might fall for it.

“You don't have to do this. Do you want money? My uncle can pay you double whatever your boss is paying. Call him, I'm sure he-” The man presses a finger to your lips, shutting you up.

“Stop talking.”

With that, he goes back to pacing around the room, occasionally checking his phone for that green light to take you out. Your mind races a million miles an hour as you pull against the handcuffs, knowing you can't slip out of them. Sniffles fill the room while your eyes start watering again. The man gives you a disgusted look as your breathing quickens and your lip trembles.

“Are you really crying right now? Give me a fuckin’ break. This is just business. Eye for an eye type deal,” He snarls before going back to the window.

“Shit. Shit!”

He sees something he clearly doesn't like, and backs away from the window. In a huff, he's grabbing your arm, and snatching you off of the bed. You resist, pulling away from him and stumbling backwards. The man growls before charging at you, grabbing your waist, and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Put me down!” You scream and pound your fists against his back to no avail.

With his other hand, he pulls out his cell phone and makes a call that goes unanswered. He hastily leaves the bedroom and carries you down the hall, heading towards the kitchen. You try to grab everything you can as you pass by to try and slow him down: the walls, picture frames, even a curio cabinet that only topples over and smashes, littering the floor with glass. Unaffected by your attempts, he stops in front of the back door, overlooking the patio.

“Hope you like the cold,” He grumbles and opens the door, cold air blasting into the house.

Not giving you a chance to resist this time, he walks out into the snow and tosses you on the ground, landing you hard in the snow.

“Get up, come on,” He's got his gun out again, pointed directly at you, “Towards the trees. Go!”

You try to collect yourself to stand up, but you're shaking so bad that you can barely keep your balance on your bare feet. Lacking the patience to wait for you to get a grip, he tucks an arm underneath yours and starts dragging you along again.

The cold bites against the skin around your cuffed wrists. Your feet are so painfully frozen, they almost feel warm as you try to keep up with the man holding a gun to your head.

It's a long walk to the tree line and by the time you make it there, you can't feel your feet or hands anymore. Your pajama bottoms are soaked through from the snow and you're convinced there's no possible way you can take another step, so you don't. You collapse at the base of the nearest tree, slipping out of his grip.

“Any last words?” The man raises his pistol to your head once more, “I'll make this quick.”

As you look up at him, your attention is drawn to the black outline of a figure running through the snow behind him, about halfway between the house and the trees. Your brows furrow in confusion, prompting the man to turn around and follow your gaze.

“What the fu-” You watch in disbelief as a sickening splatter of blood, bone, and brain matter explodes from one side of his head, tainting the bright white snow with a glistening red. All that can be heard besides your own heavy breathing is the loud crack echoing against the mountains. The light disappears from his eyes as his body crumples beneath him, landing with a soft crunch as the snow packs down underneath.

You'd scream if you could feel any part of your body, but the best you can do is screw your eyes shut and hope you're not next. Your tears freeze against your cheeks as you cry and hold your arms as close to your body as you can for warmth, even if it's futile.

Not long after, you hear fast approaching footsteps stomping through the snow, headed right your way.

“Y/N?!” Your eyes snap open. You know that voice.

“J-J-” With how bad your teeth are chattering, it's hard to speak.

In an instant, John is in front of you, pulling off his coat to wrap around you. He crouches down to eye level with you and places both hands on your cheeks, looking at you, his deep, brown eyes are full of concern.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

You're not sure how to answer that question without crying even harder, so you just lift your hands up to show him the cuffs digging into your wrists. He seemingly understands what you're trying to say and turns towards the unmoving heap of a man on the ground. He searches through the man's pockets, pulling out a wallet, a cell phone, car keys, and finally, the keys to the handcuffs. John unlocks the cuffs quickly and tosses them into the snow beside you before gently rubbing the sore areas around your wrists.

“Let's get you inside, hm?”

You nod eagerly and try to stand up with him, but you can't feel your legs and you end up losing your balance again, almost toppling over into the snow. Thankfully, John catches you before you hit the ground.

“I c-can't-”

“Shh, I've got you. Hold on to me,” He reassures you.

With that, John is placing your arm around his neck and picking you up bridal style. The walk back to the house seems even longer and colder than before. You hug his neck tightly as he carries you, hoping that your shaking doesn't bother him too much.

John carries you into the house, past the broken glass and snow that's blown in from the open doors, not stopping until he reaches your safe space, your library. He sets you down in your comfy chair and kneels down while holding your hand.

“We have to get you out of these wet clothes, is that okay?” His tone is soft and sweet, yet urgent.

Again, you nod and let him help you out of your freezing, wet pajamas. He starts with your bottoms, tucking his fingers under the waistband and pulling them down your legs. Next, he pushes the coat he gave you off your shoulders and carefully helps you lift your arms up to slide off your shirt. He dumps them in a soggy pile on the floor next to your chair.

“I'll be right back,” He pats your knee comfortingly before leaving the library.

You sit alone and shivering for a minute until John returns with a big, fluffy blanket.

“Do you think you can take your underwear off by yourself?”

You look at him with wide eyes and then down at your hands. With how bad they are still shaking, and the fact you only kind of have feeling in them now, you aren't sure what you could do by yourself.

“I'll help you. I won't look, just wrap yourself up in this.”

John wraps the blanket around the front of your body, then reaches around behind you to unclasp your bra and places it on top of your shirt in the pile. He kneels down again and reaches beneath the blanket, slowly pulling off your underwear and dropping them on top of your bra. You can feel your cheeks heating up from embarrassment, and you're glad at least some part of you seems to be warming up.

Now that you're free from the clutches of the wet clothes, John turns away from you to relight the fireplace. While he's occupied, you pull the blanket around your shoulders and hold it closed in front of you, still partially numb to the fact that it was John who came to save you and you did not die back there.

When he's finished with the fireplace, John comes back over and kneels on the floor in front of you, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly, like you'd float away if he lets you go. He still bears a twinkle of concern in his eyes but he doesn't say anything else. Together, you sit quietly, thawing out your extremities and regaining some of your composure.

You’re first to break the silence once you're feeling properly warm again.

“You came back?” You whisper.

“Of course I did, Y/N. I couldn't stay away.”

#keanuverse secret santa #john wick x you #john wick x reader #bodyguard au #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #john wick #keanuverse #fem!reader

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everlastingdreams · 2 days ago

Text

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 29

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Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: Shattered

Notes: /

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter: 29/47

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As the hours passed riding through the forest, Gawain and Lancelot explained how they met. The sellswords had taken Percival onto the carriage that had brought you to Morrowstead as well, but they had pushed him out of the carriage in a random village. Lancelot had searched for hours and found him in the presence of the Green Knight who had been searching for Percival for quite some time. At first the meeting between the men had not been very comfortable, but after Percival told about everything that had happened the knight gave Lancelot a slice of his trust that had been earned by saving the boy. Not one word you spoke, finding comfort in hearing the three of them speak instead.

Gawain was discussing a plan with Lancelot. “Gramaire should still be safe for us. It will take us perhaps a day or two to reach it. We should avoid the common roads for now, the Trinity Guard will be searching for us all.”

Lancelot nodded. “We ride until evening now. Then find us a place to rest.”

They looked in your direction but you avoided meeting their eyes, some peace and quiet was all you needed to process what had happened and they could tell.

Gawain turned his eyes back to Lancelot. “You must understand, Lancelot, that when we do arrive in Gramaire my friends will not react well to your arrival. I will speak for your good intentions, but I make no promises. Until now you have only shown them to fear you, you’ve killed our people. What you do with the chance I give you will be what defines you now. Will you be our greatest enemy, or our greatest warrior?”

Lancelot swallowed hard and was quiet for a few seconds. “I swore to Percival that I would help the Fey, it is a vow I intend to keep.”

Gawain sounded uncertain, but hopeful, “Good. Now all we must hope for is that my friends will believe it when I tell them that.”

Lancelot knew how small the odds were. “If I am shunned away, then I will be content if only Percival and her will have sanctuary there.”

For the first time in hours, you spoke, “If you think you can just abandon me, you’re mistaken.”

Lancelot turned to look at you over his shoulder. “The possibility of them welcoming me is small, or dare I say non-existent. But there is no reason for you to be send away, it would be-”

It came out sharper than you intended, because you were feeling tired, “Stop it, Lancelot. I choose not to stay in a place where you are not welcome.”

Gawain send Lancelot a curious look, which the Ash Man pretended not to see. The knight couldn’t help but notice how the former Weeping Monk was so quick to surrender to you.

The knight got too curious to hold back the question burning in him. “Lancelot told me that you were half-Fey, Ash Folk, is that true?”

You gave a nod. “My father, Aldith, was Manblood. My mother, Iridessa, was Ash Folk. I didn’t know of my Fey heritage until I fell as a child and saw the marks beneath my eyes appear in a puddle of rain.”

Gawain was quick to understand the situation you had been in. “Did you hide it?”

“I had to.” you said. “You’ve seen what happened when Aldith knew of what I am.”

Gawain spoke to Lancelot. “Father Carden wanted her because she was, like you, Ash Folk?”

“Yes. She is the only one I have seen since I was a boy.” Lancelot said.

The knight hummed. “That fire in the forest. Was that you or her? You know what that was, do you not?”

“I know.” Lancelot fidgeted with the reins. “I believe I caused the fire.”

“You did.” you blurted out.

The Ash Man shook his head a little at the comment. “I had no control over it. It never happened before. I thought only she could create Fey Fire.”

“Can you do it again?” Percival was enthusiastic about it.

You let your thoughts slip out quietly. “Someone may have to hit me again for that…”

Lancelot’s fidgeting got worse, so he placed a hand on the pommel of his sword instead.

“Your connection to the Hidden strengthened when you sought help in helping her.” Gawain stated at seeing Lancelot’s reaction.

The Ash Man appeared a bit self-conscious. “I heard them reach out for me. I just did not expect for the fire to happen, it ran through my veins and into existence.”

“The Old Gods will aid the Fey.” Gawain said. “What baffles me is that they seem to be strongly connected to you and her.”

“They helped Nimue!” Percival pointed out.

Gawain tensed up, his expression of sorrow alarmed the boy who had looked back at him just then. The knight knew that what he had heard about Nimue would break the boy’s heart, much like it had broken his own.

~“Percival… I have something difficult to tell you.”~

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Hours had passed and only one time during the whole ride had you taken a pause to eat some fruits that Gawain had with him in his horse’s saddlebag. During that long pause, Gawain took Percival aside and told the boy that his friend, Nimue, had not survived an attack by the waterfall at Uther’s camp. You sat with the boy as he went through very different stages of grief. Disbelief, anger, but the worst was the sorrow that came upon him. The boy spilled his heart out, speaking of Nimue the Fey queen who was branded the Wolf-Blood Witch by the Church and how she had fought so hard to protect the Fey. Lancelot was able to hear who this girl was that he had been commanded to find and kill, a girl and not the monster or witch they claimed her to be. A girl who was brave and kind, a girl who had wielded the Sword of Power to protect her people. Trading her life for safe passage for the Fey, away from these lands. After hearing all Percival and Gawain said about her, you found yourself mourning her too.

Lancelot was uncomfortable, ridden with guilt. Gawain could tell and had taken him aside to talk, but you could not hear what was said between them. Whatever had been said between them, it must have helped Lancelot handle what troubled him. It took hours before Percival was calm enough again to continue traveling, his eyes were red from crying and his nose still often dripped. The boy was very quiet during the next hours that had passed.

When the evening sun could barely be seen through the dark clouds, and rain threatened to soak your clothes, the search for shelter for the night began and it was Gawain who spotted a cave. The entrance of it was large enough for the horses to enter as well, the cave was not very deep, but it was enough to keep the horses and yourselves out of the rain.

Gawain searched and found a thick branch to use as a torch to take into the cave, he held it out to Lancelot. “Could you light it?”

Lancelot shook his head. “I have no control over-”

“You have a flint.” Gawain clarified.

Once Lancelot had lit the torch with the flint, Gawain headed into the cave. The three of you followed with the horses. The entrance was wide and perfect for the horses to shelter in, then the cave narrowed to the size where a person could still pass through. That short dark path led into an larger open space. Lancelot used his sword to make a small hole into the ground for Gawain to stick the torch in. The flame of the torch gave the cave a warm and cozy feeling. Percival plopped down against the rock wall near the torch, hugging his knees to his chest while watching the fire. You went to sit beside the boy but feared saying the wrong thing in the attempt to console him, you let your actions speak for themselves and rubbed over his back in a soothing manner.

Percival took in a deep breath. “I don’t want to miss her, I want her to be alive again.”

You swallowed hard. “I know, Percival. It does not feel right or fair, and it isn’t. Nimue sounded like she was an impressive woman.”

The boy nodded. “She was my friend…”

Tears began to brim in his eyes again and you wrapped your arms around him, letting him lean into the embrace. Lancelot and Gawain saw the boy engulfed in grief, their eyes filled with sorrow at the sight. Minutes passed before Percival’s tears stopped flowing, the strong emotions were tiring him out. He still sat against the wall, but now he had put his head down on your shoulder to rest. Gawain and Lancelot had taken seat at the opposite side of the torch, hoping to get some rest tonight.

“Do you believe this cave is something the paladins would easily find?” Gawain voiced his concern out loud to Lancelot.

For Lancelot, the answer was simple. “No. And I know quite certain that they are not eager to search the woods in the rain at night. Nights of rain always made them reluctant to perform their duties. Father had to reprimand them often because of it.”

“Do you think Father Carden wants you back?” Percival suddenly asked.

“I do not know.” Lancelot said. “Perhaps.”

The boy clearly worried about it, the death of his friend had wounded him. “I don’t want him to take you away.”

Lancelot was quick to reassure the boy, understanding where this fear was coming from in the boy’s grief. “He will not.”

Gawain had a certain look in his eyes that Lancelot had managed to see before the knight could hide it.

He believed that the knight did not trust that he would not go back to Father Carden. “Is there a problem?”

“No.” Gawain had a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes and he shook his head.

Lancelot disliked the blatant lie. He tilted his head in the direction of you and Percival, clearly insulted. “Do you believe I will return to Father? That I would betray them?”

Gawain had been more than a little reluctant to even speak of what he knew about the priest to him. “Father Carden is death, Lancelot…I am sorry. He died in Uther’s camp when he attacked it with the paladins.”

Your eyes snapped to Lancelot, watching how his expression changed to doubt. But when Gawain dropped his gaze to the ground in sympathy, Lancelot knew the knight was speaking the truth and he tensed up completely. The eyes of the Ash Man were void of life, a certain hollowness had taken over in them. Gawain tried to explain to him what had happened, how Father Carden had intended to murder Nimue but the odds had turned against him. Lancelot shot up to his feet whilst Gawain was mid-sentence, he moved through the narrow passageway in the cave that led to where the horses were. You were already up on your feet after seeing the reaction and fixed your eyes on his shadowy form, he had gone to Goliath and took something out of the saddle bag. He almost stormed out of the cave. You ran after him and hoped it’s wasn’t what you thought it was.

The rain washed out the moon’s light. By the time you had spotted him marching between the trees you had to run to reach him. Did he even notice that you had followed him out of the cave? It didn’t appear to be the case. How he was able to walk so fast without slipping on the muddy ground was a mystery to you, you slipped a few times and were barely able to prevent a fall.

“Lancelot! Wait!” you shouted out while using a tree to regain your footing.

“Go back!” his reply was as fierce and rough as the thunder that followed seconds after it. He didn’t even look behind him to see if you had listened.

There was not a chance, not one damn possibility, that you were going to ignore that he had just walked out with the scourge that was wrapped in that rag. You finally reached him and nearly slipped again on the ground. But this time you were able to grab a hold on his arm to keep yourself steady and to keep him from trying to avoid the confrontation. You tried to grab the scourge from his hand, your fingers held on to the rag around it when he moved it back to signal for you not to take it from him.

His tone was sharp, bordering on anger, “Go back to the cave!”

When he tried to move, you grabbed a firm hold on the leather of the jerkin at his chest. “You promised me you wouldn’t use it anymore!”

Immediately he began to pry your fingers from the leather, even trying to force your wrists away. But you held on, knowing that if you let go he would return bleeding.

“Let go!” his voice rang loud into your ears.

You hated how you flinched, and raised your voice to match his, “I would rather bleed to stop you, than see you bleed again!” It had halted him. “I won’t let you do this to yourself, I will get that scourge out of your hands even if it means getting my wrists broken for it!”

His hand had been around your wrist, trying to get you to loosen your grip. His eyes fell to how he was holding it, his hold loosened. He shook his head, unable to voice what he was feeling and experiencing.

Again you reached for the scourge, the rag was soaked from the rain. “I beg you, don’t.”

He kept his gaze on the grass but let you pluck the scourge from his fingers, and you threw it into a bush. Now that you were more confident that he would not submit himself to flagellation, you gently brushed your hands along his arms in slow movements.

“Just breathe.” you hoped it was calming him, even if just a little.

He stood motionless, his eyes a million worlds away as they blinked only when a drop of rain hit them. There was no eye-contact, he did not want for you to see the sheer agony that had filled his eyes. You kneaded at his arms softly, soothing the tense muscles in them while stepping closer. Slowly, you closed the distance and brought your arms around him. Doing so made you aware of how much he was trembling, he was overcome by grief, it felt like trying to keep a thunderstorm from breaking out of it’s bounds.

You spoke against his shoulder. “Allow me to help you, tell me how and I will. I wish I could spare you from this pain.”

He felt his chest tighten and release, over and over again. The scent of you filling his lungs, colliding with his grief, the power it had over his being was unmeasurable.

You heard him inhale, slow and deep, and knew he was taking in your scent. Just hearing him try and calm himself by breathing better was a relief.

“Please…” he spoke so quietly and brought an arm around your form to keep you close.

You knew that what he did not say was ‘help’, ‘please, help’. Asking for aid when being in one’s most vulnerable state was not easy, and certainly not for him. After years of having to hide his suffering, showing it was a frightening ordeal.

You rubbed a hand over his back in soothing circles, feeling how he touched his head to the side of yours. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

That reassurance made him bring you in closer, making the embrace an intimate affair neither had expected.

“What he has done to me… I…” He took a deep breath, his voice broke, “It’s not right… I shouldn’t…”

He was mourning a man, a Father, who was seen as a monster to the Fey and all those who were unfortunate enough to have opposed him. It felt wrong, so very wrong, and selfish to weep for Father in the arms of a Fey. He was alone in bearing this grief, no one could understand and he could not expect it of them. And it was what made it unbearable.

You would not let him deny himself the chance to grieve. “You loved him, grieving him is what you must do, you have a right to grieve as much as anyone else.”

His emotions were merciless waves crashing into each other, constantly overtaking one another. The only certain thing that stood as a beacon between them was you and the comfort you brought him. And when he dared to meet your eyes, he could no longer go without the sight of them, no one had ever looked at him in such a manner before. With pure compassion, and the clear will to see into his thoughts, your eyes remained on his.

Seeing the heavens in his eyes rain down their sorrow was something you never wished to see again. You reached up and cupped his cheek, wiping some tears from where they ran over his ashen ones. “I am so sorry, Lancelot. You don’t deserve this pain.”

“I do.” He blamed himself for this. By leaving Father’s side he had not been there to prevent his death.

It was the worst thing to hear. “Don’t. Please, don’t. I know you believe that to be true, but it’s not. I know it’s not.”

He lifted his head back, trying to see the sky through the rain, he had not stopped shaking since he had stepped out of the cave. After a few seconds of letting the rain wash away the evidence of his suffering, he dropped his gaze unto you again. There were tears brimming in the corner of your eyes, and you were losing the fight against them, seeing him suffer like this was cutting into your heart.

You made your tone stronger, filling it with conviction. “You served him loyally, faithfully, you gave him everything. You don’t deserve this suffering. You never did.”

He suddenly cupped your cheek in the palm of his hand, a small startled gasp escaped you at the unexpected action. Reading his eyes was impossible, there was so much happening inside of them all at once. There was a soft light caress of his knuckles along the side of your chin. His hand glided down to the side of your neck, and it was that which gave him the control to do what he did next.

You blinked, that was all, and he had brought his lips to yours to steal a brief meeting between them. It happened so fast that it took you completely off-guard. The aim of it was impressive, there was no rough collision, you had landed into the clouds that were his lips. The meeting was brief and forward, his mouth parted from yours again. Rain dripped from his face and onto yours, his gaze was still locked in on your lips. You were trying to say something, to bring out any form of words but struggled to do so. He tilted his head to inhale your scent just below your ear, while your mind was slow to process what was happening. Then he brought his lips to yours again, letting them linger. You were too stunned by it to move at all. His lips were soft and light against your own. You did not push him away, fearing he would seek to punish himself with the scourge after all. The kiss was not anticipated, nor was the feeling that went from your head to your toes in response to it. And even with your previous experience, it still felt so very new and unlike anything else felt before. You felt the kiss throughout your whole body, your head was airy, your legs unsteady.

This was against the vow he had always wished to uphold, it wasn’t like him to do this. You knew that it was him reacting to the grief, finding something to bury it with if even just for a brief moment. You couldn’t let him do this, reciprocating would be taking advantage of his suffering state of mind. And that lack of response was what ultimately made him stop and break away, even if it was just an inch. He was trying so hard to read your eyes but you doubted he could see much beyond the grief now.

By cupping his face in your hands and putting your thumbs upon his lips, you kept your own free from them, a clear signal. “You don’t want this, Lancelot. I fear you are not thinking clear now.”

He kept a hand on the side of your neck, stroking his thumb along the bottom of your jaw, shaking his head very shallowly. You released your hold on his face.

“Forgive me…” His breath shook violently. His thumb stroked where your marks would be if they showed themselves. He rested his forehead against yours. “Please, forgive me…”

He would not survive it if his impulsive action had ruined it all again. Why could he not control himself better? Why did he keep making these mistakes? Why could he not do better? Why?

You hushed his concern, voice as sweet as possible, he was troubled enough as it was, “It’s alright, there is nothing to forgive.”

His fingers were still cradling your head like it was precious to him, he spoke against your temple, “I will never harm you. I’d never…”. He shook his head, disappointed in himself.

“I know.” You nodded. “I trust you.” Your hand came up to rest near where his heart was. “Come back to the cave with me, you’ll catch a cold in this weather. Please…”

He shook his head again. Was he embarrassed, or simply too overcome by it all that he could not think clearly?

You took his hand in yours. “I’m taking you with me.” It was a bold thing to say and try, but when you began to slowly walk, he let himself be taken along. It wasn’t until the entrance of the cave came into sight that he made you halt, you could see two shadowy figures waiting in the cave for you to return.

He pulled at your hand to bring you closer. “What I did, how I behaved towards you-”

There was no need for an apology. “Don’t. I know you’d never mean to cause me harm. I understand why it happened.” You pulled at his hand as well. “Now come with me. Out of this rain, Ash Man.”

That light demanding tone worked wonders on him, almost did he smile. You held his hand firmly, walking him into the cave were Percival and Gawain were waiting. Percival looked at Lancelot only once and flung his arms around the stunned man. Nothing was said between them as Lancelot brought a hand to the back of Percival’s head in a protective manner, nothing needed to be said. The grief was silent, like a poison invading their veins and the only way to survive it was to share it.

“I am sorry, Lancelot. I should have told you earlier, but I did not know how.” Gawain was somewhat uneasy. “You have my deepest sympathy.”

Lancelot only nodded, he was rubbing over Percival’s shoulder blade as if it was instinctive. It was surprising to see how well he did with children, even Gawain had not expected to see it.

Something caught Gawain’s attention when looking at you. “Are you bleeding?”

You frowned, then noticed the stain at the bottom of your sleeve. “I… I think so.”

Percival turned to look, as did Lancelot. You took of your wet jacket and handed it to Gawain to hold, blood had stained your sleeve a little but most of it had just run down to your wrist.

“One of the stitches on my arm may have torn.” You rolled up the sleeve to see.

Gawain went to the saddlebag of his horse. “I have what you need to bandage it.”

“Do you always travel so prepared?” you wondered out loud.

“I find it important to travel without having to be concerned if I’d bleed out from a cut.” Gawain deadpanned. He took out some rags, needle and thread, then looked at Lancelot. “You and the boy should rest. I’ll help her with her arm.”

Lancelot was not given the chance to protest, Gawain simply took you gently by the arm and led you towards the space where the torch still burned. It’s flames offered the well-needed light to work on your arm, and as you sat by the fire and let Gawain help you, Lancelot put his cloak down by the fire to dry. Percival sat down against the wall again, and Lancelot took place right beside him.

“You smell like a wet dog.” Percival blurted out to him.

Silence dropped in the cave, it lasted for two counts before Lancelot chuckled. The boy’s blunt remark was an oddly welcome distraction, even you and Gawain had stifled a quiet chuckle.

“Shall I sit further away?” Lancelot asked the boy, not sounding very serious about it.

“No.” Percival said and pulled out his knife from where it was hidden in the pocket of his jacket, the boy began to fidget with the knife a little to entertain himself.

You stared at Percival. “Percival… is that the knife that I put into that sellsword’s eye?”

Percival shrugged his shoulders. “What? I pulled it out and wiped it off. It’s my knife.”

Lancelot arched a brow, processing what he was hearing. Even Gawain had stopped in the midst of wrapping a fresh bandage around your arm.

“You pulled it from his eye?” Lancelot found himself asking.

“Yes.” Percival said.

“And what did that do to his eye?” Lancelot could not stop himself from wondering out loud, envisioning the possible gruesome outcome of the boy’s decision.

Percival winced at the memory and avoided looking at him. No one said a word, all were envisioning what must have happened.

Gawain cleared his throat. “All done. Try not to use that arm too much until the wound is closed again.” He rolled down your sleeve and patted your shoulder comfortingly. “You did well, not a single complaint.”

Lancelot watched the interaction in silence, you became aware of it quite fast because the Hidden’s whispers were drawing your attention his way instead of Gawain’s. One brief glance, one could claim it as ‘accidental’, and you had noticed it. Perhaps it was him still trying to determine whether or not to trust the knight, or perhaps the reason for his watchful eyes was of a different sort… perhaps that kiss did come from a place within him that he was sworn to forsake.

You placed your jacket near the torch, hoping that it would dry a bit in the night from the warmth the flames brought into the cave, then went to sit against the wall to sleep.

Gawain took place against the wall as well to rest for the night. “At dawn, we continue our journey. We should be at Gramaire the day after.” He saw Lancelot tense up. “Do not be afraid, Ash Man, I will be there to welcome you. And you have two more Feys who will speak of your refound goodwill towards the Fey.”

Lancelot nodded, looking down at Percival who was leaning against him and drifting of to sleep. “We shall see.”

The Green Knight had more faith in the matter than he did. After all his crimes against the Fey, he held not much hope to be forgiven or welcomed. The only welcome he expected was a blade through his chest.

~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

You had fallen asleep faster than you thought possible, the events of the previous night had tired all those present in the cave. Minutes before dawn, you were gently nudged awake by Lancelot.

“I need to speak with you.” he whispered, not willing to wake the others.

You mumbled something incoherent, but it clearly showed how reluctant you were to leave the hard ground you called a bed. That lasted until you vaguely heard him say ‘please’. You got up from the ground, still drowsy from sleep, and followed him towards the entrance of the cave. The rain had stopped and it was palpably warmer, he stopped just where the cave still covered the ground, his restless hands were folded together behind his back. You stopped at his side, waiting for him to speak.

He took a deep breath. “About last night…”

Was this what was still troubling him? You hoped it had not been a part of what must have kept him from resting properly, he looked tired. “We do not have to talk about it.”

He thought differently, this was a matter that could not wait and risk festering. “We do. I prefer for us to speak of it and make certain that all is well between us.”

“All is well.” you said.

“I kissed you.” He turned to face you, his expression serious. “I had hoped we could speak without reservation as we did in the inn.”

You clasped your hands together to ease that sudden nervousness in you, he could be very forward and sometimes you envied it. “I don’t really know what to say about what happened.”

“I have upset you?” his eyes narrowed just a little, as if he hoped to read the answer in yours.

By taking a deep breath, you tried to be forward about it too. “No. The only thing that did upset me was seeing you storm off with that scourge.”

He seemed to accept that answer after studying your expression. “I must confess that I am grateful for how you have handled my…” He tried to find the right way to describe the state he had been in, “Madness.”

“Lancelot.” You shook your head at how harsh he was to himself. “It is not madness, you are grieving.”

Remorse was tearing into him. “What I did last night borders on madness.”

You hoped to finally make him understand that you were not angry or upset by jesting about it, “Are you saying that kissing me is a sign of madness?”

“I-… no, of course not-…” he stammered apologetically.

You could no longer hide your grin and looked towards the trees, biting the inside of your cheek to scold yourself for it.

He let out a deep sigh at realizing you were toying with his mind, mumbling, “You are maddening.”

“Says the one married to me.” you fired back.

It caused him to smile, a genuine small smile that reached his eyes and he snapped them to the trees. “I have not told Gawain of our marital status.”

“Why not?” you wondered.

“I thought you would prefer that I did not.” he said. “You have always let it be known that this arrangement was not by your will, I wish to give you the freedom to choose to ignore it’s existence or not.”

You hummed pensively. “Thank you… that was considerate.”

He gave a nod. “But I stand by what I said of how I will treat this arrangement. If there is anything you need, I will provide it, whether it be safety or other matters.” His eyes locked on you, another nod. “I am here for you. At your side.”

It felt like too much to accept, but this was how he was raised, to be devoted to those important to him. And after living with people who couldn’t care less about you, it was a welcome difference. You reached out and took his hand in yours with a light hold.

He took a step closer. “I once believed that it was my fate to die by the blade that would threaten to strike Father, that it was my duty to sacrifice my life for his. I do not know who or what I am now, not yet.” He swallowed hard, bringing a hand over yours. “I chose this path, I betrayed Father, of that I am guilty. What plagues me, is that even with this knowledge, I would still choose this path.”

You gave his hand a squeeze. “Often the right choice, is the hardest to make. And you made the right one.”

He nodded, believing it to be true. “I know I did. This…” he moved your interlocked hands up a little, “-proves that I have. You and Percival have been more than courteous to me, you’ve accepted me whilst the world sees me as a monster.”

“You are no monster.” you reassured him. “Monsters do not have a conscience.”

He hummed quietly, seeming to accept your view on this.

You remembered something. “Hey uhm, back at the inn you told me you wanted to speak to me about a personal matter. Do you recall? I’m here to listen.”

“I cannot recall.” he answered evasively. “It is not important.”

Your eyes squinted at him, a cheeky smile danced on your lips. “If you cannot recall, then how do you know it’s not important?”

He was quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on your hands. A sound from inside the cave alerted you that someone else was starting to wake. By the lack of much noise, you figured it had to be Gawain. You released your hold on Lancelot’s hand but he simply took hold of yours to keep the connection.

“You have truly forgiven me for last night?” he quietly asked.

“I have. And consider yourself fortunate that that often arrogant mouth of yours is quick to learn such a sinful skill.” You gave a playful smirk, teasing him, “I did not expect that of you.”

Was that a compliment? He had already forgotten the insult laced into it.

That cheeky comment had made him flustered. “I-”

“Were you able to rest last night?” You reached out, placing a hand on his upper arm.

“Not much.” he admitted.

Absentmindedly you kneaded at his arm. “Do you fear you must hide your grief?”

He gave a small nod. “I must.”

“Not from me.” You rubbed his arm.

The way you spoke so gentle now, so soft and sweet, almost quiet enough to be whispering. The moment felt serene to him, offering him more rest in his mind than sleep had done.

Slowly he reached out to cup your neck, and even slower he leaned in, as if you were a bird ready to take flight at an unexpected movement from him. You sensed his intent. He halted a second, waited, then put his lips to your temple. The kiss was one thing, but he lingered. You blinked rapidly, feeling a surge of restlessness warm your chest, a fluttering that caused you to smile. The feeling was overwhelming and you turned your head down and to the side, the shy smile on your lips was enough for him to see that he had done no harm or wrong with it.

You dared to look at him through your lashes, aware how flustered you had to look. “What was that for?”

Other than seeing that rare timid smile that caused your eyes to glister and caused his heart’s pace to quicken?

Slowly he straightened his back again, folding his hands behind it. “For the grace you have shown me once more.”

You still felt the rush going through your chest. “You are my husband, of course I will try to help you carry these burdens.”

His expression changed instantly and you realized why. You had not addressed him in such a way since you fled the paladin camp. He did not comment on it, a smile formed on his lips as he looked to the ground.

You stammered, “I… I mean…”

Gawain walked up, yawning. “Good morrow. Preparing for the journey?”

You send Lancelot a look, then returned to where Percival was still asleep to go and wake him. Gawain had to speak Lancelot’s name twice before the Ash Man remembered he was even standing there.

Taglist:

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Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

#the weeping monk #weeping monk x you #lancelot x reader #weeping monk x reader #cursed #cursed netflix #weeping monk #cursed lancelot #the weeping monk x reader #lancelot

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1980shorrorfilm · 1 day ago

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can you hold me together?

click!!!

pairing…skye riley x gn!reader

in which…skye had picked paul hudson over you, and now has to deal with the aftermath once she’s recovered and sober.

before you read…no demon au. angst with comfort. ur basically gemma. kinda short lmk how we feel about skye fics skye riley nation

“hey.” “hi.”

skye and you study each other, as if seeing each other for the first time again. it feels brand new, scary and exciting. she appears significantly less angry than the last time you were together. her eye bags weren’t as deepened or dark, tan skin insanely smooth, glowing, and beautiful. she is so beautiful.

even like this, at midnight, dressed in sweats. she could be wearing a garbage bag and still appear to be the stunning star that she is; something you had honestly told her.

she also looks very fucking stunned.

skye hadn’t expected you to come here, to be standing outside her door, in her presence. yeah, she had messaged you, asking you to, but she never thought that you would actually oblige.

you hadn’t been over in a very long time, the woman attempting to check in on you every so often, hoping that the day would come when your name would be in her notifications.

that day never came.

she couldn’t blame you, she had led your…friendship, down this road. the harsh and pointless arguments, the shutting you out when all you wanted was to be in her life, just to be replaced by someone else, someone she pretended to love.

sometimes you thought that was her punishment for you. you weren’t sure what for, but it had felt like it. seeing her and him dazzling on red carpets, all so fake.

maybe that’s why she made it a goal to ignore you, you saw through her. through everything that she tried to keep buried, you knew her too much. you had loved her too much, and at the time, skye had thought of it as suffocation.

caring too much for her when she was inevitably going to fuck up. she already carried the weight of the world on her shoulders from everyone else in her life, she did not want that with the person she had loved most.

so she made sure that wouldn’t happen. she got rid of you.

and like a stray animal in a storm, you’re at her door, both of you with weak smiles as if the last conversation held between you didn’t end with you two sobbing.

“do you want to…?” she asks the dumb question nervously, stepping aside to let you in.

you thank her, welcoming yourself into her calmly lit place, a sense of dread in your stomach despite the endless fond memories you had experienced here.

sitting beside her as she plays her piano, watching her delicate fingers drift over the keys, occasionally meeting her brown eyes. you always found peace when she was only singing to you, it seemed more personal. especially with the love songs that she kept for your ears and your ears only.

holding her on the cool tile of her kitchen floor, allowing her to cry in the safety of your arms from whatever was troubling her that day. you’d last in that position for hours, body going numb but you never complained. you welcomed it, if anything.

on top of her on her bed, listening to the sweet sighs leave her lips like the melody of her songs. sometimes skye needed you as close to her as possible, tasting you and relishing in it. it leaves a bad taste in your mouth now, worried those precious moments will never be replicated.

not with skye, and not with anyone that attempts to fill the skye-shaped void in your life.

“so…how are you?” skye speaks, gently shutting the door behind her. she doesn’t approach you, still eyeing you like an object that randomly spawned in her home.

you’re still studying her living space, but when you do turn to her, she takes notice of the cardboard box in your hands, resting against your stomach. blocking her from engulfing you tightly.

“good…yeah…fine. and you?”

“me too…i mean i’m also good.”

awkward. this is awkward, and both of you should have been prepared for this. skye did envision how this would go, the right things to say, but now all those planned words have died on her tongue. she gulps.

“i, uh…i wanted to apologize…for like…everything.”

“skye–” “the way i treated you after…after he showed up…i regret it. a lot,” she laughs nervously, one hand playing in her hair while the other is shoved in her pocket, “and you’re like, all i think about, so it’s been really fucking hard, you know? wondering where you are…if you’re okay…if you found someone new.” someone that wasn’t her, she thinks.

”and i just,” skye continues, approaching you, “i miss you…i have since…”

she lets her words linger, unable to say the hard part to your face. since she decided to leave you behind. when you stand before her, with the face she absolutely adores, it feels like hell to imagine she had made the same face cry. the same kind eyes pour like a rainstorm.

“i’m…i’m so sorry. i know that means probably nothing but i mean it...” skye honestly tells you, immediately anxious for whatever words were to leave your lips.

worried you wouldn't feel the weight of her words and how much she truly meant the things she had said. that the damage had been done, and she had lost the person that mattered to her most. for good, this time. a year of physical separation and endless stalking of social media already felt like torture to her.

for you, it’s almost overwhelming. you almost didn’t come here, you needed a motivation other than to simply see her. you wouldn’t know where that would lead you, showing up completely vulnerable. that’s what the box in your hands is for, why you’re here. why her words hurt you just as much as they heal you.

you feel the bubble in your throat begins to grow.

“i brought some stuff you never picked up from my place,” you say almost robotically, trying to not show any of the emotion pouring over you. you ignored her completely, skye’s brows furrowing in a blend of confusion and disappointment.

“w-what? i–” she stutters, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. “are you not going to acknowledge anything i just said?”

you take a step toward her, her arms suddenly occupied when you shove the box into them.

“it’s mostly clothes—”

“stop,” skye interrupts, eyes widening when you’re already walking away from her. towards the door. you hear a thud, the box now on her floor. then you feel her hand on your wrist, a tight grip to hold you in place.

“i d-don’t want my clothes, i want…” skye stops herself, pleading eyes doing all the talking for her. her heart is pounding, afraid all of her words were for nothing, that you’re done with her. for good. the worst possible scenario, that almost makes her want to breakdown and cry.

“i don’t know what you want me to say, skye.”

“fucking anything,” she laughs humorously, the uncomfortable hold she had on you loosening, but not completely. “y-you can even say you hate me— just anything.”

“i don’t…hate you.”

“you don’t?” she sounds…almost shocked. and that really hurts. you would never want skye to even think that was ever a possibility, and you wonder how long that idea has been in her head. “i figured after everything…”

after everything i still love you, is what you want to say. you don’t allow yourself to, not ready to put your heart on a platter and serve it to her, so instead you do the second best thing. you hug her. tightly, like someone is trying to take her away from you; a nightmare.

she embraces you just the same, if not tighter if that is possible without suffocating you.

“i’ve…missed you too,” you admit, “seeing your face everywhere doesn’t help.”

she groans as if she can relate, which in a way she can. she also sees your face everywhere, just not on the covers on magazines and billboards. in her head, before she sleeps, and when she wakes up.

“sorry about that.”

“don’t be…i’m proud of you. like, really proud of you skye,” you tell her, something you should’ve already said. “watching you get better…seeing you happy….that’s all i wanted.”

her heart flutters your name in morse code, your simple yet reassuring words feeling like the sun was beaming on her; as warm as your body is pressed against hers.

you hesitate, “you…are happy, right?”

“yes— yeah,” skye answers near immediately, “have almost everything i want.”

almost. the embrace comes to an end, her soft brown eyes meeting yours. you open your mouth, then shut it, because you don’t know what to say to her insinuation. you didn’t come here for this. you didn’t. and yet the barrier you placed between your heart and hers is crumbling.

“skye…” “i just want you back…in my life…that’s it…” she tells you, not wanting you to feel pressured romantically and scare you away. simply to have you within her grasp, to feel your love once more, is all she longed for. that is something that you have in common, so you nod.

“…okay.”

“okay?”

“okay, skye.”

she wears a bright smile, one of relief, of hope. hoping to mend your relationship, to make you feel comfortable enough again to have a genuine relationship. a pure one, not tainted by the person she used during the dark days of her past. to fix everything she had let go wrong.

a second chance. with the person she loves the most.

#-🐈‍⬛#skye riley x reader #skye x reader #skye riley fic #skye riley #smile 2 fanfic #skye riley fanfiction #horror x reader #horror fanfic #horror fanfiction #wlw fanfic #lesbian fanfic #why are you still reading this? do you want me??

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millersfinest · 5 hours ago

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untethered | e.w

00s!ellie williams & 00s!miller!reader

wc: 7.4k

series: chapter one (you’re here!)

blurb: it’s been awhile since you’ve been back home; in upstate new york where you’ve spent most of your life waking up early and tending to the animals that moo’d and meh’d. after graduation high school, and then college, the city life has stolen most of your attention. enabling you to visit only a handful of times through the years. when your lovely adoptive parents (tommy and maria miller) invite you back for a thanksgiving dinner—a troubled old flame from your childhood manages to get your attention, despite its explosive ending.

cw: lmao flip phones, some vulgar language, ellie cheating on her gf (kind of), the millers, r is a writer, elements of longing, ellie is #1 lesbian yearner in the world, some early 2000s references, thanksgiving, some physical violence, adopted kid trauma (shoutout to all the adopted kids!!), hella angst, repressed emotions, a little bit of mature content, eventual smut.

note: i have too much confidence writing for ellie. but here’s another series im starting because i realized the plot is too much for a single work on here, hence the 7 thousand words ijbol. hope you guys enjoyyy.

It was quieter upstate. Breathable and airy—you missed it more than anything. As much as you loved living in Manhattan, there was nothing like the countryside. Waking up to the sound of birds chirping and roosters crowing. Hearing the excited neighing from the horses you birthed and took care of. It was refreshing to be home again.

And, of course, you missed your parents.

They adopted you as a troubled child, and you’ve considered yourself lucky ever since. Babies and younger children were often the ones to be pulled from inconsistent foster homes, but they chose you. A pierced, attitude-ridden, thirteen-year-old who liked smoking cigarettes because they made you look cooler than you felt. And it helped you cope with the lasting effects of neglectful parents.

That trauma didn’t just disappear once Tommy and Maria entered your life. It was something that grew from nothing, and they were adamant in making your transition as comfortable as possible. You never experienced anything like it before them. Their strictness and structure did the opposite of what most would think. You went from sneaking out and smoking cigarettes to staying up late studying and finishing your favorite novels—still smoking cigarettes, though, but out your window. It was hard habit to break.

Once you realized that they could be trusted and had your best interest at heart, you gave them the right to parent you. Sure, it wasn’t easy. The three of you argued many, many times—but you respected them more than you have anyone else. Really, just for tolerating you.

The Miller’s were always very family oriented and social. Sunday nights always managed to be a grand event—Tommy grilling in the acred backyard, Maria handling the food items that could be cooked inside, and you diligently decorating and setting the table. Football Sundays were always the worst, but they were great memories to think about. That was the first time you met, basically, the love of your life at the time. Ellie Williams.

It was 1995 when you had completely fallen in love with her—only knowing her for around three years. Joel Miller wasn’t really her father, or adoptive father, he was just somebody who took care of her. He owned a guitar shop that sold, obviously, guitars and other instruments alike; as well as holding lessons for those wanted to learn how to play.

The story goes: Joel was working the register on a very slow day when Ellie showed up. There was a shiner on her eye, but she insisted that she was fine—asking for lessons with crumbled cash and dirty coins. She couldn’t afford the lessons on her own, so he gave her a job and proceeded with teaching her how to play.

She grew up similar to you; hidden under the confines of foster care. The only difference was, she was never adopted. At least not until the age of seventeen, when she’d spent so much time with Joel that she had a decorated bedroom in his house. They both had commitment issues, but after Tommy convinced him to do the paperwork… He did. Surprising her on her seventeenth birthday. However, the outcome didn’t really go to plan. Not how anyone would have expected it.

It was 1997 when she completely broke your heart… Not to be cheesy or anything.

Her seventeenth birthday was hosted at your house, on the farm. You knew her the most out of everyone, so you made it your mission to make this the best birthday ever. Decorating had become a hobby of yours after so many Sunday dinners—you spent all day stringing up lights and colorful streamers. Maria helping you out with a homemade cake that said: Happy Birthday Els! You were too anxious to write the words yourself, so you let her do it instead. You were even sure to invite the friends you shared; demanding they each brought presents to show how much they cared about her.

Joel had showed up before she did; just in time so they could all hide and jump out with big smiles on your faces when Ellie arrived. You would always remember the feeling of hearing the rumbling of her truck coming to a stop. And the shy smile on her face when everyone jumped out from behind furniture—blowing birthday kazoo’s. It was picturesque!

Dina had trotted over to her, snapping a blue paper cone birthday hat over her head. While you walked over with her birthday cake in your hands, brightened with seventeen candles. “Happy seventeenth, Ellie.” You had spoken, warmly. A bashful grin spreading onto your lips. She looked at you with such awe in that moment. Blowing out her candles and kissing your cheek, muttering a blushing ‘I fuckin’ love you’.

You knew about her surprise adoption papers before the party had started, excitement running through your veins when Joel meandered toward her—handing her an envelope of hope. Ellie took it, eyeing him, skeptically. “Open it!” You urged—that was your mistake.

Chortling, she broke open the envelope, not caring if it tore. When she pulled out the certificate, reading the words on the page, her entire face dropped. “Adoption papers?” Her eyes squinted in disgust, glaring at Joel. The smile fell from your face, lips parting in slight shock. Her olive eyes glanced around the room, seeing the fallen expressions clouding everyone’s features. Landing on your fallen face, briefly—a look exclaiming, ‘how could you’. Freckled cheeks heating up in embarrassment and… Anger. “Joel, what the fuck?” She blinked at him, shoving the papers into his chest, then storming out of the house. Hands ripping the hat from the top of head, throwing it to the ground. The screen door creaking obnoxiously as she exited. It all happened so fast.

He quickly followed her out, calling for her, desperately.

Awkwardly, you turned to the frozen people around you. “Anybody want cake? It’s german c— chocolate.” You stammered, trying to keep your composure. Looking to Maria and Tommy for some sort of consolation, you frowned, placing the cake on the counter before fleeing to the bathroom.

You clenched at the roots of your hair, pacing around the bathroom. You could hear remnants of a solo screaming match from outside the bathroom window, causing you to grit your teeth. The papers were supposed to be a good thing! Ellie had always been a hothead—easily agitated like a stray kitten is distress. There were even moments where the two of you went at it. Until one of you caved, begging for affection as an apology. Your nerves burned at the idea of her not liking the surprise—was that selfish?

Instead of remaining in the bathroom, you swung open the door with your eyes fixed on the front door. Hands clenched at your sides, you walked through the kitchen, where Tommy tried to liven up the mood by handing out pieces of cake.

He tried calling your name, but you brushed him off, pushing open the screen door with an attitude that could be felt with every step you took. The brisk autumn air hit your exposed skin, the long-sleeve striped shirt not doing much to keep you warm.

Striding around the side of the house, you seen Joel and Ellie having a stern conversation. But by the time your eyes landed on them, they were in a beat of silence. Joel shaking his head with his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Ellie had her arms stubbornly crossed, frowning. When her eyes found yours, he turned around to leave. “She’s all yours…” He solemnly sighed, walking back into the house. The adoption papers crumbled up in his hands.

Biting your bottom lip, you approached her with your arms crossed for warmth. “What happened, Ellie?” Your voice dragged, tiredly. There was something always wrong with her. “We just wanted to do something nice for you… Why’d you have to go and ruin it—?”

“Oh, I’m the one who ruined it?” She scoffed, a sneer resting on her lips. “I’m not the one who brought the fucking adoption papers!” Ellie exclaimed, gesturing broadly with her hands. When she was up in arms, she always gesticulated more. “Did you have anything to do with this? Because if you did—“

You interrupted her with scrutinizing glare. “So, what if I did? I thought this would make you happy, Ellie… Don’t you understand?”

“You had me open that in front of everyone knowing what was inside— and you thought that’d make me happy?” Her lips arched in disgust. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all.” Her words were venomous, lips twitching in anger.

There was nobody who understood you more than Ellie, and vice versa. You just got each other because you came from similar backgrounds—that was your glue. You don’t know me at all. That was new.

With your eyes growing warm with tears, your tongue rolled in your mouth. “I spent all day setting this up… For you. Because I love you, Ellie. I don’t know you— that’s bullshit if I ever heard it.” Your voice cracked, but you refused to let a tear run down your cheek. This was no time for tears—if she could get angry, so could you.

“I’ve known you long enough to have some semblance of understanding on why you’re upset, right now— that’s for damn sure.” You paused, averting your eyes to concentrate on keeping your rising emotions at bay. She watched you, cheeks still red with anger. “I’m gonna give you ten minutes— ten, Ellie! If you don’t get your ass back in there in next ten fucking minutes…” You lick your lips, shaking your head. “We’re over. Done!”

Giving a final glare, you turned to head back inside. “I can’t keep dealing with this shit.” You mutter, under your breath.

“So that’s what it is… Dealing with me?” Ellie voiced, a sliver of disappointment slipping in her moment of anger.

Wiping your cheeks, you peered over your shoulder. “What?”

“You got this perfect little life… Huh?” She began, approaching you intimidatingly. “The loving parents, the farmhouse— you became the perfect daughter for them… Gets the grades, does everything she can to appease them. This fuckin’ fantasy world that you chose to live in all because you wanted someone to love you… Fuckin’ pathetic.”

“Ellie…” You warned.

“Well, newsflash, little-miss-perfect— not everybody wants that! Not everybody wants to play pretend for the rest of their fucking life just to be—“

It happened before you could stop it, fists clenching at your sides as she bad mouthed you till oblivion. Your soft spot—and she knew all about that. Both of you grew up as kids who got into fights and disputes more times than anyone could count; you just decided to clean up your act. However, that troubled twelve to thirteen-year-old still resided inside of you. And, in that moment, she wasn’t your doting girlfriend—she was someone punching down on you.

Your knuckles collided with the side of her face, knocking into her cheek bone. Features scowling as if she were a stranger. Ellie stumbled, holding onto her face with surprised eyes. For a second the version of her you loved came through, but she quickly recovered. Her lips curling at the ends, taunting you. “I knew you still had it in you… You’re no better than me.”

There it was.

Not only was it the straw that broke the camels back—it was the truth. The ultimate truth. Behind all of your petty little arguments. Behind all her wild bursts of anger. She was jealous of you. Grunting behind your teeth, you charged at her. Taking the collar of her jacket as her back hit the gravelly ground. Straddling her, you didn’t hear the rushing feet hitting the porch. You could feel her hands settling loosely on your calves, only angering you more. “I did the fucking work— nobody else but me!” Tears poured down your cheeks. “I am better than you. Because I fucking try—“

Arms pulled you off her body, wrapping around your abdomen. It was Tommy, questioning you in your ear, but you weren’t listening. “Everything went to shit because of you! Remember that!” Dina and Jesse rushed to her side, but she only sat up watching you get pulled back inside. They glared at your forced retreat—they were always more friends with her than they were with you.

Tommy released you, with a disappointed sigh. Maria walking inside, shutting the door behind her, frowning. You heaved, looking at all the decorations that mocked you. Sparkling and shining against the dim lights in the room. The barely eaten cake sat on the counter in the kitchen making fun of you—it was all too much.

“What the hell has gotten into you, y/n?!” Maria pointedly, asked. Not really wanting a response.

“What’s gotten into me?! What’s gotten into her—!” You pointed to the door as if she replaced it.

The blond man leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, bending at his hips. “Well, I don’t think it matters what’s gotten into her if you put your hands on her, Bug.” Tommy spoke, evenly. He was always the calmer of the two. “Did you… Did you put your hands on her?”

Maria stood with her hands on her hips. “What did we say about fighting—? And you don’t hit your girlfriend— you don’t hit the people that you care about!” She scolded, pointing her finger. “We raised you better than that…”

Your lips quivered, guilt setting in. “I didn’t mean to hit her! She wanted— she wanted me to… I swear!”

He glanced at his wife. “She wanted you to hit her?” Tommy deadpanned, pressing his lips into a line.

They both looked at you with separate expressions. Maria clearly overwhelmed with disappointment and utter disbelief. The same look she gave you when she caught you smoking cigarettes at the barn when you were fourteen—when you told her you quit. Tommy had an expression of pity, like he often did. That same look he gave when you had a meltdown at school when you first moved in with them.

More tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Maria… Tommy… She pushed me. Why would she do that? Why would she—“ You began to ramble, knees growing weak. Your strict mother-figure rushed to your side, catching you before you fell. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to— she was just being so mean.”

Sinking to the floor with you, her hands caressed your hair. Maria looked to Tommy, mouthing for him to go check on Ellie.

Outside, Ellie was dismissing the weary questions from her friends. She’d never seen you act in such an unruly way. Every time she came over, there wasn’t a hair that was out of place on your head. She was always the one acting out, swearing like a sailor. Sure, she knew about your smoking habit, but that was nothing.

Your girlfriend was envious of how everything was panning out for you—college was around the corner. You had an acceptance letter from your dream school, and without a doubt, you were leaving for the city. Leaving her behind to rot in the country. It wasn’t fair!

That adoption letter felt like pity. She wasn’t a fan of that feeling either.

As a bruise formed on her cheek, guilt settled into the pit of her stomach. Ellie had every intention on seeing the side of you that everyone talked about with a past tense that indicated warning. She needed to prove to herself that you weren’t the perfect person she saw you to be—but all that was left behind was remorse and a sore cheek.

She watched as Joel and Tommy stepped aside to talk. Their eyes glancing back and forth between the door and Ellie, as she leaned against her rusted red truck.

“I can’t believe she would do something like that… On your birthday?” Dina shook her head, with her arms crossed.

“It’s not like her…” Jesse narrowed his eyes at the auburn-haired girl. “What’d you do?”

Dina smacked his chest. “Jessie! She’s literally the victim here— domestic abuse!”

He sucked his teeth, rolling his eyes. “I’m not saying what she did was right.” Jessie began. “I’m saying that I know Ellie Williams, and I know how she is— she’s a pusher.”

The bruised seventeen-year-old scoffed.

“Yeah, I said it.” He stood tall, a small smirk playing on his lips. “You’re a pusher. Hell, you’re a professional pusher— you push people for a fucking living.” Dina glared at him, threatening to hit him again. “I mean, there was that one time… When we went into the city for that comic convention, and you completely obliterated Joel for worrying about you—“

The dark-haired, freckled teenager pushed her boyfriend out of the way taking his place. “We don’t have to relive that…”

Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth. “Look, I know this is my fault…”

“Ellie… You’re the one with the bruise forming on your face.” She reached up, rubbing her cheek. Her wincing under her touch.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, squeezing her red eyes. “Yeah, and if it weren’t for me— for what I said… I wouldn’t have this fuckin’ bruise.” Ellie peered at where Joel and Tommy were speaking. They were wrapping up, giving brotherly hugs. “I am a pusher… And now my girlfriend hates me.” She pouted, tears welling up in her eyes. The blond Miller waved a hand at her, giving a tight-lipped smile that screamed I’m sorry. “I gotta go…” She pulled her keys from her pocket, getting into her truck.

That was the last full conversation the two of you had. Horrible, but the last. Everything in between then and the present was short and empty. Light conversations that only strangers and acquaintances shared. Letters here and there. It was a dispute that was so nuanced, for the first year after that, Joel barely said a word to you. Which bled into his relationship with Tommy. Maria tried to play middleman, but it didn’t work.

Perhaps, that was the reason you kept your distance. You didn’t want to continue to be the wedge that formed between two brothers. While you loved your parents, they were only a phone-call away. And, in the meantime, you could focus on growing in your career. Focusing on your book writing, instead.

You just wanted to forget about what happened when you were an emotionally undeveloped seventeen-year-old, but every time you seen her face—you remembered. So, avoiding Ellie Williams was a mission within itself.

A mission you were hoping you weren’t going to have to endure this year.

“You know,” Tommy began, sipping his fresh coffee. “Joel’s coming down from Jersey for the week.”

As you looked through the fridge, you snapped your head in his direction. “Is he now…?” You slowly question. Letting the fridge door shut on its own. The blonde woman to his right, sitting at the island counter, chuckled. Flipping through the interior design magazine you brought for her.

“And he’s picking up Ellie from the city.”

“What!” You exclaim, rushing to the opposite side of the counter. Pulling the mug from his lips, a surprised squeak left your throat. “Uh, dad… You forgot to mention on the several phone calls that we had in that last month that Ellie moved to the city.”

Maria perked up, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, she’s been there for about a year now… Brooklyn, is it?” She looked to her husband for clarification. He nodded, peering up at you with a plain expression.

“A year?! And none of you told me?”

“Bug, you did say that you didn’t want us to bring her up anymore unless you asked.” Maria stood to her feet, meandering to the stove and oven. “But that does remind me… They should be here in a few hours. Wanna help with the brownies?” She preheated the oven, walking around you casually.

Your mouth fell open, glancing between the two of them. “Okay, so they get brownies, and I get the worst news of my life…” An apron with your nickname embroidered on the front, Bug, hung in your mother's hand as an offering. “Yes, I’ll help with the brownies— this is very cruel to your very successful daughter.”

Tommy waved his hand, dismissively. “C’mon, that incident happened years ago now. You’re twenty-five, I’m sure she’s gotten over it.”

Tying the string around your neck and back, you pressed your lips into a line. It wasn’t really about her—you weren’t over it. You still harbored the same guilt you felt when you settled in your room that night. A crazy mixture of resentment and remorse all rolled up into one feeling; as you settled in your reading nook, with your hand out the window holding a burning cigarette with your index and middle finger. “I’m sure she has…”

Eventually, you switched the conversation around while baking. Falling into fits of laughter from mentioning past stories of your teenagehood. Teaming up with Maria to make fun of Tommy and his aging—all of a sudden, he was beginning to have a knack for playing a checkers. Only old people enjoyed playing checkers. Then, the waiting began.

To busy yourself, you pulled out your computer and brought it to the porch. Even though, you were taking some time off at your publishing job; when it came to your book writing, you had an agent to keep flooding your inbox with emails. Telling you to do this and do that—it was obnoxious. But you did as she asked anyway.

Typing away, a puff of nicotine fled from your lips. Murmuring under your breath, the words that were populating on the screen. On your hip, your phone rang, causing you to throw your head back in slight agony. Something always interrupted you when you were flowing. Flipping open your phone, the decorative chain swinging around as you placed it against your ear. “Hello,” You spoke, stubbing out your cigarette.

It was your roommate and closest friend, Sierra, complaining about the neighbors. Her strong long island accent echoing through the phone. “Oh, my God— they’re so loud! You’d think gettin’ an apartment in a nicer building would thicken the walls.” She groaned on the other end. “Please, come back. At least to tell them to shut up, and then you could go back upstate.”

“Why don’t you… I don’t know…” You shut your laptop, replacing your butt with the boxy electronic. Strolling to the far end of the porch, leaning your arms against the bannister. “Tell them yourself?” An amused smile spread on your lips.

Sierra paused. “Because that’s your job. I’m the nice one, remember?”

“Okay, well I can’t leave. I just got here, and I’m not spending another grand on taxi fare.”

“I’ll spot you.” You could hear her smile on the end.

“Sierra, I’m not coming back until Saturday. So, your only options are to either bang on their door— telling them to shut the hell up— or you suffer listening to their relentless daytime sex.” As you spoke, a truck began rolling up the driveway. Identities unclear due to the intense window tint, but you knew exactly who it was. However, there were three heads in that truck.

She groaned on the other end of the line. “Ugh! I hate you—“

“You love me!” You grinned, but it dropped right off your face when the people exited the vehicle. From the driver's seat, it was Ellie; then, it was Joel who exited, seemingly in conversation. And, finally, a girl stepped out of the vehicle. Joel noticed you leaning against the bannister on the porch, waving his hand with a smile.

Your muscles reacted, waving a fleeting hand. “Maria, Tommy! They’re here!” You yell loud enough to be heard through the screen door. You were always insecure about calling them by their parental titles in front of people—let alone new people.

“You’re yelling in my ear, hon. If you gotta go just tell me.” Sierra complained.

“I gotta go.”

Before she could say her goodbyes, you shut your phone, sliding it into your back pocket. Your parents came out of the house in high spirits; Maria clapping her hands, excitedly, embracing Ellie. Tommy giving a firm bear hug to Joel, laughing heartily—at what? You were unsure.

Awkwardly, you stood there. Smiling with your hands held in front of your body as if you were presenting a project.

Joel looked to you, approaching you with open arms. “Look at you,” He began, wrapping his arms around you, warmly. “All grown up.” He pulled back to get a better look at you, nodding proudly.

“Yeah…” You tapped his shoulder. “You, too.” A chuckle fell from your lips.

Then, you looked to your right at the freckled girl with her arm around a feminine stranger. However, you couldn’t indentify her before you did Ellie. Her auburn hair was pulled into a low bun, with pieces framing her gentle features. Her round evergreen, tinted with slivers of brown, eyes. Freckles decorating her cheeks, bridge of her nose; the beauty mark under left eye—

“Hey,” Ellie drawled out the greeting, awkwardly. Leaning in for a hug that teetered back and forth until you reciprocated.

You kept that same plastered smile on your lips, wrapping your arm under hers. “Hey, Ellie.” Pulling back, you finally looked at the girl beside her. She had tattoos and piercings and looked so much cooler than you. “Who’s this?”

Her earthy eyes widened. “Oh, this is, uhm, my girlfriend, Cat.”

The only response you could give was a nod and a half-hearted wave. It was like a dramatic record scratch in your head. But your parents took over with the rest. Guiding everyone inside to the warmth. Tommy remained outside, giving you skeptical eyes. “Help me with the bags…”

“Honey, don’t be weird about this.” He spoke, as you followed him to the truck.

“I’m not being weird.” You whined, gravel crunching under your feet. “Seriously, what’s to be weird about?” Reaching into the open trunk, you pulled out luggage’s and duffle bags. This was a lot of stuff for a week stay—they brought more than you did.

He gruffly breathed, pulling up the handle of one of the suitcases. “You’re my daughter, I know you— just sayin’…”

“Oh, my God— please!” You complained, hooking the duffle over your shoulder, pulling one of the luggage’s. Leaving him to follow you toward the porch.

Dinner had come quicker than you had hoped. If anything, if you could magically skip over the thing, and still eat, that would’ve been perfect.

All six of you sat at the dining table, forks and knives scratching at ceramic plates. Tommy and Joel had gathered in the back, last minute to cook up some steaks. And, to busy yourself, you helped Maria with the sides while Ellie and Cat got situated in the guest house.

“So, y/n, how’s the book comin’ along?” Joel wondered, putting a cut piece of steak into his mouth.

You made a surprised sound as you chewed your food, rushing to swallow. “Shit, you’re writing a book?” Ellie questioned, leaning her elbows on the table.

Taking a sip of water, you decided to respond. “Yeah, I’ve been working on it for a while.” Your eyes glanced at her, then moved on, quickly, to Joel’s. “It’s… Coming along.” A bashful laugh fell from your lips, as your hand reached for the glass of wine. It was barely touched, red hue swishing in the bulb of the glass as you took a sip. It’s fruity bitterness relishing over your tongue.

“What is it— like fiction or…?” Ellie pressed, genuinely.

“Non-fiction. A book of essay’s, really— written in different forms.” You nodded. “It sounds boring…”

Ellie shrugged, forking a piece of meat into her mouth. “Doesn’t sound boring to me.” She responded, with her mouth full.

“It’s the farthest from boring, honey.” Maria massaged your shoulder, sharing a small smile. You mirrored her in return, forking at the vegetables on your plate—perfectly steamed broccoli.

“How’s Brooklyn treating you?” You spoke up, raising your eyebrows.

Ellie lightly glared at Joel before answering, placing her utensils down. “It’s certainly treating me…” She muttered, rubbing her hands together, glancing at her girlfriend.

“It’s a great place for art, but just not Ellie’s art.” Cat chuckled, sipping from her wine glass.

“Oh, that’s what you’re doing.” You nod.

“I recall her using the words: too crowded.” Joel used air quotes to briefly describe the past conversation.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “It makes me feel crowded— the city. When you say it like that, it makes me sound fucking stupid, Joel.”

“You did say crowded.”

“Well, I meant overwhelmed.”

You snickered at their bickering, leaning back in your chair. “Back to your art, I guess you’re experiencing the artistic equivalent to writers block?” Tommy inquired, still chewing on his steak, raising an eyebrow. The auburn-haired young woman nodded, chuckling to herself. “That’s why you’re stayin’ with us for a little while, huh?”

Another record scratch.

You blinked at you father, deepening your eyebrows. “Wait, what?”

Joel had set his beer on the table, leaning forward. “Yeah, Ellie’s stayin’ with your parents for a little while to get her juices flowing, again.” He explained, pressing his lips into a soft smile. Ellie cringed at his use of the words juices, taking a sip of her beer.

Tommy and Maria told you nothing unless you asked for it for almost everything now—you at least deserved to know that Ellie was staying on the farm indefinitely. After all, when they’re dead and gone, it’ll be yours; so, they could’ve at least told you without you having to ask—that’s big!

“And, I’ll help out so I won’t be sleeping the day away— because I know that I will without a proper schedule.”

“I thought you guys didn’t need a farmhand.” You glanced at your parents, with your eyebrows still deepened with confusion.

Maria chuckled, standing to her feet. “We don’t need anything, but who could say no to a helping hand?” She grabs the empty basket of biscuits from the center of the table. “Anybody want more biscuits?”

“I would love some!” Cat spoke up, holding up a tattooed finger.

“Me too, honey.” Tommy also spoke.

A dry chortle left your lips, leaning against the back of the chair. “Are you staying on the farm, too?” You peered over at the stranger—the girlfriend, with a slight accusatory tone.

Her lips parted a few times before she responded. “Oh, no, I’m going back to Brooklyn. Not much of a country girl.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded, downing the rest of your wine. This week was going to be a doozy. When Maria came back to the table, you snatched a biscuit from the basket, biting into it. There was a perfect crispy layer on the outside, mixed with the perfect gooey, soft innards of the biscuit. “These are so good.” You muttered with your mouth full with its buttery goodness.

On your hip, your phone buzzed. Cursing under your breath, you plucked the cellphone from your belt, flicking it open. It was your agent calling you at eight o’clock at night. “Excuse me, I gotta take this.” You scooted the chair back, pressing the green button. “It’s late, Isa.” You started the call, stalking out of the room like the corporate woman you are. Taking the route up the stairs to your old bedroom.

“I need that new chapter by tomorrow morning— as in, 8am.” She scolded on the other line. “I’m personally reminding you. Since you couldn’t respond to my emails.”

You sighed, shutting your bedroom door behind you. “Isa, I’ve been traveling all day on public transport, and I’ve been trying to have family time— is that not what Thanksgiving is about?”

“You’re writer, hon. You have little bit of family time, then you hermit to finish your work— now, stop giving me grief. Time is of the essence.” Her smooth voice told, chuckling after her words. “I’ll be anticipating you’re new chapter tomorrow at eight! Have a great night.”

“Have a great night…”

Slapping your phone shut, you sighed, running your other hand over your face. Being a writer was relentless—just as relentless as you and your roommate’s neighbors. But, instead of lingering in frustration, you grabbed your heavy laptop and propped yourself on the cushion beside your window—your reading nook. Not forgetting to put a Sade tape inside of your stereo for some background music, before you began to diligently work.

You typed at your computer, rapid clicking sounds filling your ears. Although, it was no surprise that you worked your hardest after the sun set—it was like you had one too many espresso shots.

Every word was coming from the heart, and coincidentally enough, the guests at your home made it easier. This chapter was definitely reflecting the feelings you felt the day of Ellie’s seventeenth birthday. You used imagery and metaphors to describe that feeling of attack—being backed into a corner, having the worst part of yourself brought into the light. And, like most of your pieces, it was dredging it all back up again; the emotions.

That feeling of losing the only person that truly understood you.

Of course, you had a few relationships since then—a few, trying to chase that same feeling you felt when your hands touched. But there wasn’t anyone who could compare to her. How pathetic was it to still be harping on a highschool sweetheart?

Hours passed under the radar. Your parents being the mile marker in your work, knocking on the door to let you know everyone was heading to bed. Too busy with outlining new ideas, you barely spared them a glance, muttering a smooth goodnight.

It was about one in the morning by the time you finished the chapter. Still, it needed some tweaking, but it was good enough to send to your agent for the editor to look at.

Shutting your laptop, you finally took in your old bedroom. Various music artists slapped against your soft pink walls, attached with tape—some corners hanging off. Catwoman figurines lining the back of your large, white, wooden dresser; with comics stacked alongside them. Stacks of old books in the corner of your room, stacked from the floor to the middle of her wall. If you were to stumble into them, they’d experience one hell of a fall.

Suddenly, curiosity struck.

Hopping from the cushioned seat under your paneled window, you looked under your bed. Reaching for an old shoebox that was filled with many, many interesting things. You slid it from under the dusty bed frame, taking it back to that plushy seat you appreciated so dearly. Plucking the top off, you released a sigh. Immediately being hit with polaroids of yourself as a teenager—mostly standing beside, laughing with, and cuddling Ellie.

They were the photos you snatched from your wall after that fight. Oh, she looked the same. Still had that uncertainty in her earthy, olive eyes. You didn’t understand it then, and you most definitely didn’t understand it now. Ellie didn’t have to feel the uncertainty she was used to in foster care. She had people who believed in her—who will always believe in her.

Sifting through, your hands hovered over a letter she wrote. It was an apology letter sent around the time of her eighteenth birthday—almost a full year since the situation. The envelope was ripped open from the day you received it; stained with salty, heartbroken tears.

If only that day never happened…

A startling knock sounded at your window. It was no more than a pebble, which was confirmed when another launched within your sights. Scrunching up your eyebrows, you unlocked it, pulling it upwards. Once you peaked your head outside into the brisk, cool weather, a small smile spread onto your lips.

“Workin’ hard or hardly workin’ up there?” Ellie called from below. “I brought a little somethin’… Thought you could use a break from writing.” She waved a tightly rolled joint in her hands—which could only be seen if you squinted.

The corners of your lips spread wider, feeling horribly nostalgic. “You’re actually a little too late on that front. I finished a few minutes ago,” You pressed your lips into a line, continuing. “But I could never turn down smoke break. I’ll be down in a second.”

Dropping the letter, you scooted off the seat to grab your jacket. Stuffing your feet into the semi-stained Uggs you wore into the ground, before fleeing your bedroom. You didn’t feel the need to sneak down the stairs, but a part of you wanted to—to relieve that feeling of adrenaline you felt in your youth.

Ellie met you at the back door, holding open the creaking screen door as you exited. “I honestly wasn’t sure you still did this.” She chuckled, looking at the ground as you both began to walk away from the house. Putting some distance so the smell wouldn’t upset the elders in the home.

“What? Smoke weed?” You perked an eyebrow. “You think because I went all corporate, I stopped being down?”

“Actually… Yeah.” She responded, nervously snickering.

The two ofyou settled in front of this white-lined shed that was illuminated by the two warm, orange-toned lights on either side of the door. “Well, you’re kind of right…” You admitted, squinting your eyes, embarrassed. It’s hard being known for your adaptability. “I try to keep the pot smoking to a minimum. In the corporate world they test you for it.”

Ellie pulled the joint from behind her ear, placing it between her lips. She shook her head in response to your words. “Says the cigarette smoker…” She joked, eyeing you, teasingly. While she flicked her lighter to burn the tip.

“Hey, they don’t give a rats ass about nicotine— I need to make up for that loss somehow. I’m a writer for christ’s sake.”

When she finally gets it to catch the fire, she took two puffs before passing it to you between her index and thumb. “Where’s Cat?” You innocently questioned, taking a hit of the joint, then looking at it, before taking another hit.

Ellie became rigid, releasing an exasperated sigh from her lips. “The guesthouse, watchin’ some movie.”

You handed her the joint. “What, is she not down?” Mocking your previous words, with amused eyes. However, her demeanor had quickly shifted.

“She gets easily frustrated after traveling all day…” She shook her head in a dismissive way, like she didn’t want any further questions to asked.

“Hm… That’s relatable.”

Silence engulfed the both of you as you passed the blunt back and forth until it was nothing more than a roach. Hearing nothing but the distant wind chimes sounding off on the porch.

Before speaking, Ellie took a deep breath, glancing over at you as if she were nervous to make eye contact. “I hope me stayin’ here for a little bit doesn’t bother you too much.”

Her words were double-take worthy, you looked over at her with expressive eyes—widening, in surprise. “Bother me? Why would it bother me?” You leaned your shoulder on the shed, kicking one leg over the other.

“You didn’t seem like the biggest fan—“

“Ellie, I was surprised. That’s all.” You waved your hand, shaking your head. “I feel like they don’t tell me shit anymore…” Shoulders shrugging, you glance toward the house standing tall in all its glory. “They didn’t tell me about you moving to Brooklyn, either. What does it look like when someone you’ve known your whole life moves to a city you’re actually familiar with and they’re not, and you don’t reach out to help them? I’m only a forty minute train ride away.” You rambled, deepening your eyebrows. “They basically made me look like an asshole.”

You weren’t entirely sure how you’d react if you knew about Ellie’s moving to the big city. Knowing your habits, you’d probably sit by the phone for hours before making the move to give her a call. But, it’s not like you were given the opportunity to figure it out for yourself. Now, it just appeared that you forgot about her—or could care less about her endeavors; which is farthest from the truth.

Her full lips cracked into a smile, chuckling. The auburn-haired woman, mirrored your position, leaning her shoulder against the wooden shed. “Always worried about what you look like…” She muttered, sucking her teeth. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’re an asshole— you just didn’t know.” Ellie shrugged. “It’s not like we talk as much as we used to…”

As much as we used to. That kind of stung.

Your eyes averted to the gravel under your boots. “Yeah…” There was an awkward beat that took its place between you. Swallowing, you shooed it away with speaking up. “What about your art? You’re living in one of the most creative cities in the world, and you can’t create?”

She puffed air from her lips, glancing in the direction of the guesthouse, priming her lips. “Okay… Confession— but only if what’s said here stays here.”

“What’s said at the shed, stays at the shed.” You affirm, holding a hand and crossing to fingers. The high from what you smoked clouding your mind, squinting your eyes and loosening your inhibitions.

“Cat and I moved in together pretty early— too early… I needed a roommate and she was the perfect option.” Ellie began, carefully. Olive eyes shifting under the dim light in thought. “I swear ever since I moved in with her… The inspiration to make anything new is fucking gone.” She ran her hand over her hair, which was actually loose without a hair tie. Dusting over her shoulders, pieces pushed behind her ears. “She, you know, hovers a lot— in a sweet way, it’s just irritating because not even her pushing me can be inspiring.”

Your heart skipped a beat; it was hopeful—you really are an asshole! “Damn… So, it’s not the city that makes you feel crowded. It’s Cat.” You hum, nodding your head, taking in your assumption. “And… You think staying here will help? Doing boring farm work?” A chuckle falls from your lips, borderline nervous, borderline humored.

She pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, I spent a lot of time here growin’ up…” Ellie looked at you, knowingly. “It was never boring when we did it together.”

“That’s because we were doing it together. I’m not gonna be here while you’re shoveling horse shit.” You chortled, peering at her through hazy eyes. She giggled and it sounded like music to your ears. It’s been awhile since you heard her laugh from something you said. Weed always did have a way of bringing people together.

“Well, maybe before you go, you could help me out. Jog my memory.” Ellie offered, raising her eyebrows. “It’s either you or suffering through Tommy’s jokes for hours—“

“I don’t mind, but we might have to jog each others memory.”

“Hey, you can take the girl out the country, but not the country out the girl.” She shrugged. “I have faith in you.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, a smile spread on your lips. “You’re still so corny.” Shaking your head, a laugh slips. Wrapping your arms around your body, you acknowledge the cool weather. It pricked at your exposed skin, and even through your jacket. “It’s getting late…”

She scratched the back of her neck. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I appreciate the joint— I needed it.” You pushed off the shed wall, licking your lips. In preparation to meander back toward the house, you rocked on your feet. “There’s some left over biscuits on the counter…” You drawled, but it was all right because Ellie had filled in for you.

“I’m fucking starving.”

Then, the two of you walked shoulder to shoulder back inside. Giggling at stupid jokes, surfing over any of the past debacles you had. Turns out reconvening with your childhood lover wasn’t so bad after all. For now, anyway.

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