#and the tree was the one i was standing next to when i read about it not anythifn to do with the case
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Sinful Kiss.
Beware of overall dark content such as mentions of: murder, etc. This work is +18, as it also contains smut, read at your own discretion!
â Summary: "Meeting Jennifer Jareau was the most significant event that ever happened in your otherwise monotone life.
There was simply something that inevitably drew you to her; perhaps it was her pale skin that made her ocean blue eyes further distinguished, or perhaps the spark of red in them you saw from time to time. She felt you with faint dread and a strange sense of excitement.
You were too bold to be by her side despite the rumors. Or just too stupid, you told yourself sometimes.
But her kisses were too sweet to deny."
"I cannot believe your impudence," Your mother scolded again and again while running around the room in a seemingly state of crisis. "Your idiocy!"
It was clear she hasn't taken well the notice of your secret, late escapes with Jennifer. And although it was annoying to keep hearing of it, could you blame her?
Jennifer Jareau has a mysterious aura around her. Everyone you asked about her, they would tell just how sweet she was. And oh, she definitely was, you could tell from first hand.
You met her at a party â one of the most boring ones you've attended, hosted by the newlyweds in town. Everyone had been invited and yet, no one there felt human. Like someone you could connect with.
That was until your gaze crossed with JJ's, and right away you were drawn to her. It was her who approached you first, however.
And you've been seeing each other since.
However, her diplomacy was as mysterious as the business she supposedly ran with her team. They were well-known from helping solving crimes, for how well they did their job, and how united they seemed to be.
"Motherâ" Before you could even begin your actual sentence, she made you hush with a loud hiss, unable of letting you explain.
Not that you were going to truthfully admit to her what was your relationship with Jennifer, anyway.
"It's an order," With a vein showing on her neck due to how upset she was, your mother took a few steps towards you, her voice laced in almost pure despair for you to obey. "You're grounded, young lady. You'll not be attending the party tonight."
You were, in all honesty, already expecting that. But not protesting would seem weird, so you did protest for quite a while until your mother was a upset and fuming mess.
You weren't planning to stay at the party for long â you had other plans in mind.
ŕż
Once night arrived, it was time for Jennifer to make her appearance as well.
With your mother gone for the party, you were free to go out on your own to your usual meeting spot with JJ.
It was far away, secluded from the town in a small space of an old park just before the entry to the woods. Getting there always took you a good half of an hour, but it was always worth it, even when your dresses some times got thorned at your legs length due to having to go through a couple of unkempt shrubberies and trees.
When you finally made your way there, you sat in the only more or less clean bench you could find at the park.
But it was getting late. Way too late, and you were beginning to think JJ wasn't going to show up this night. That something may have happened to her... As unlikely as that seemed. You knew she was able to handle herself.
Tired of staying still and doing nothing but wait, you stood up from the bench, about to go back home. That was until when some steps in, you tripped with a small rock on the ground.
It was all too fast.
In a second, you felt your feet leaving the ground as you began to fell down, and in just the next second, before you could impact, the sensation of a cold body next to yours showed up â someone holding your waist and pulling you up effortlessly, and when a low chuckle left from them, the surprise turned into dread and joy all at once.
"You should be more careful, beautiful lady," There it was, her usual speech manners as she helped you properly get back to stand in one piece. "Good thing I'm always watching you."
"I almost thought you weren't coming, JJ." Her last sentence sent a small shiver down my spine of mixed feelings as it was common by now.
She could feel my heartbeat increasing, I was sure, although Jennifer laughed lightly nonetheless once again, while moving her icy hands slowly across my hips towards my hands â JJ was now holding them with a tenderness proper of a gentleman, before reaching my left hand up and planting a soft kiss to my knuckles.
"You'll have to do more than that for me to forgive your tardiness," Despite those words coming from my mouth in a firm manner, my insides were already warm at that simple action from JJ.
"Of course, and I will," Jennifer didn't retort or complain in the slightest, instead locked her fingers with mine and, with a widening smile, pulled me closer to her. "Follow me, my lady."
And follow her you did, even with uncertainty flooding in you when she walked towards the woods.
You were really an idiot, you scolded yourself internally, but never ceased your walk behind JJ or pulled away from her.
ŕż
When you reached the destination JJ had in mind, you were in front of a large castle that maintained a eerie surrounding, as if it was kept in its own functioning time different from the human one.
The roses around were all alive and well, some still covered in the snow from the previous nights, and from outside you could see how clean it was from in and out thanks to the wide windows.
You tried to ask about it, about who lived there, where this exactly was, but all questions died in your mouth when you entered the doors of the castle next to JJ, and the smell of blood and death immediately hit your senses, almost enough to make your head dizzy.
"It's fine, dear," JJ assured with her typical soft smile, that now was more and more suspicious given the dimly lit space and the strange situation. "Everyone feels the same once they get here. I did, too."
What that meant, you weren't sure. In fact, you had no idea, and so lost in your thoughts you were that you didn't realize after a few seconds that JJ started walking upstairs with you following close to her, almost as if she was dragging you along without the need of nothing but her will.
You came to find a more illuminated bedroom, and in there, you instantly felt JJ's lips on yours after days of being absent of her.
Your senses had already got used to the never-ending smell of blood in the air, and your head got now dizzy from Jennifer's kiss and gentle cup on your face â just before her hands made their way to your neck, applying the smallest of pressure in there.
"Tell me," The moment she broke the kiss, it left you panting slightly, feeling the sinfulness of it all only making you more excited. "Wouldn't you like to stay with me forever?"
It wasn't a confession; you had that long ago. It was a pleading for eternity by her side. To sacrifice whatever was still human of you to stay with her.
And would you? Of course you would.
Because Jennifer Jareau was the only person who ever understood how hard everything is for you. How life was way too difficult for what it was. Therefore, life as a creature of the night with her would always be your choice.
Now, and until the end, if that could ever come. You hoped, for the first time, that death couldn't reach you once converted so you could spend the rest of your days with Jennifer. Before her, you used to think how life had no meaning. How you were better off dead.
You were right. Better off dead and with the one and only who understands you, than alive and surrounded by fake faces and hidden rumors about everything.
So when you nodded, only a brief moment passed before you felt JJ's fangs piercing deep in your throat, your blood dripping down as she drank from it.
You felt death now more closely than even when you first put a foot inside the castle: energy leaving your body as much as your blood did, your heartbeat beating rapidly for a mere couple of seconds before coming to a full stop, your organs contracting, and your brain more clear than ever.
You reached with some difficulty your hands up to hold onto JJ's shoulders, feeling her fangs still deep into your throat at the same time her hands traveled down under your dress, tantalizingly bordering the edge of your, to your surprise, already soaked underwear.
The feeling of her sharp fangs carving deep into my flesh was as painful as it was infinitely pleasurable; a sensation of intense delightful agony, like a blade just made its way to my deep inside neck and was slowly sinking more and more.
How Jennifer's fingers came to slide under your underwear, rubbing your slick together while reaching for your clit in suave motions, it contrasted with the deep pain of her teeth now going out of your throat, as she licked the remnants of blood in there.
You were already more than wet, and deep your way into a blissful orgasm when JJ pinched your clit, adding more pain to your dying body and waking mind.
Even as your orgasm took all over you, making you squirm in Jennifer's arms, your mind has never been more sure of anything before.
"You're mine," Jennifer whispered as your eyes closed, your consciousness now drifting away. "Don't worry. We'll be together forever once you wake up, my beautiful lady."
#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#jennifer jareau#jennifer jareau x you#jennifer jareau x reader#jennifer jareau smut#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you
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i keep getting tiktoks of these younger gen z kids referencing a time they did something relating to fandom in public and now they're embarrassed by it and everytime i see one i sit there thinking over all of middle and high school and having genuinely 0 moments that i feel embarrassed by, like i definitely did a lot of shit these kids would be embarrassed by but i think these are all just really fucking funny
also photographic evidence of the kinda kid i was. these are from 2014/15 when i was in 8th grade
-desolation row one shot(still on wattpad gerard way/reader smut)
-twerk it on (mcr crack fanfic no longer on wattpad but i have another fic in my library called twerking in taco bell which definitely ALSO used for my reading log)
-frank iero must die(a serial killer/assassin frerard fic, still on wattpad)
-hair (really vague maybe a phanfic? nowhere in my wattpad library rip)
my binder i used in 7th grade i had a blue one that looked pretty similar to this for 8th grade but idk where it went, also the parts i scribbled out are my full legal name i had written on it. i wrote it normally and then the big spot is where i wrote my name REALLY BIG in elysian code from the vladimir tod books. also the lines are from when i used an exacto knife to cut up some papers and forgot that my binder was underneath
in conclusion yall can now see why im so shameless about talking about shigaraki the way i do
#base line i started sobbing IN THE MIDDLE OF MATH CLASS and had my phone taken away bc i was watching the mv for the ghost of you by mcr#i went to school with cat whiskers#me and my bsf made a presentation about an imaginary trip to the planet uranus and we filled it with so many memes and butt puns she started#laughing so hard she couldn't breathe and i had to do the entire presentation alone and we got a standing ovation#my 8th grade science teacher hated us#another time same class we had an assignment where we had to make a bunch of words with the periodic table and we did shrek and lucifer one#after another and when we turned it in our teacher read it and immediately told us to leaveđđ#same class again different friend we saw NA on the periodic table and started singing nanana by mcr and got sent out of class bc we started#laughing so hard we couldn't breathe#high school i would eddie munson on the lunch tables#found that aspect of eddie so relatable#filmed youtube videos at my old hs that STILL EXIST ON MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL#id honestly have them up for anyone to see but my old bsf found them extremely embarrassing and she thinks i deleted them#i used to go to school with a whole library in my backpack like the entire pjo/hoo series of unfortunate events harry potter etc#my backpack had a bunch of doodles on it and it said battaco big asf and it was an inside joke with my friends for years bc of it#i also used to go to school dressed as frank iero/gerard way/etc#pete wentz eyeliner#larped with the anime club in this little corner outside of the library bc it had a bunch of trees and a 6 ft long stick that we took turns#holding and screaming YOU SHALL NOT PASSâźď¸âźď¸#the middle school book club had movies days on fridays and when people tried to vote to watch the lighting thief movie i stood on my chair#and spent so long bitching about how bad it was that we had to do the movie the next monday bc people needed to go home and the librarian#could not stop my righteous fury#a teacher assaulted me trying to get me to stand for the flag so i dead weight dropped on top of him and then ran around the class to stay#away(real hard to do in a small music classroom) and when i got tired of that i beat him up a little and i didnt get in trouble bc he was#really embarrassed i got the drop on him(bc i had tiddies)#that man hated me for being trans#really got mad at me when the pledge started after that and id get up and salute while singing welcome to the black parade#was also genuinely bad at soccer that my teacher sent me off to other teachers when our class did soccer bc the only time i ever got the#ball i kicked it into the wrong goal#i got more stories but i ran out of tags :(
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watched a video where the author said (not exactly) "and (x) number of people will die today if I felt as much for them as I did over losing a family member I wouldn't be able to function"
and was briefly and momentarily (thank god) seized with the gut wrenching pain of thinking about everyone around the world who died ever lol.
any way.
#the main point of the video was to allow despite this let yourself be comlassionate to others pain#and believe and listen to them and CARE when they speak to you#but. uhm. hm. well. my brain decided to breifly shut down my conciousness with greif#often times i cry abouy people who have loved ones the lost#and about people who die alone and hated by the people who quote should endquote care#and about the people who are murdered. about the bodies that are harmed after. the people who are hurt before.#one time i threw up because i felt so much pain and care for a woman who was murdered like. over 50 years ago i think. that#for like. 4 years. i couldnt look at a type of TREE.#I THINK. PERHAPS. I HAVE ISSUES JANICE.#any way.#i am actually sick rn with some sorta cold (not covid we teste neg at the peak of our symptoms)#so i have a looooot of time to think about pain. any way. babes.#im not even feeling that bad right now im just like. when yhis next comes how the fuck do i cope with it.#i used to blame myself for wars happening and people dying in the news. i used to make myself depressed so#'less people would be sad today because im taking up the sadness'#i. well. WELL.#sits here#man.#edit; sorry this is very disrespectful she was murdered in 1999.#and the tree was the one i was standing next to when i read about it not anythifn to do with the case#well. as far as i remember.#i checked the date bcus i felt bad but oh boy and i not looking into anymore detail baby we do NOT need THAT spiral right nlw#i was 3 there was nothing i could have done. oh my god. some#hep. come distaract me and or put me to sleep
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Origin [Logan Howlett]
Summary: Two people, one shared past, and decades apart.
Warnings: fem!reader, angst, fluff, longing, things get bad before they get better! WC: 14k - MASTERLIST
A/N: there are plot points that are inspired by Logan's origin story (thank u marvelwiki), but they are so non-canon compliant its funny so don't call me out tyyy đ
----
Before he was known as Logan, or as Wolverine, he was James.Â
Your James.Â
â
Itâs quiet in the Howlett estate, the kind of stillness that only comes when everyone has long retired for the night. But while the rest of the mansion sleeps, you remain wide awake. Dressed in your nightgown and nestled under the blankets, you glance at the small, brass pocketwatch resting on your bedside table. The hands read 10:22 PM. Any minute now, you think to yourself.Â
Then, like clockwork, you hear itâa faint knock on your door. Three slow, deliberate taps, followed by two quick ones. The secret signal never fails to make you smile. You spring from the bed, feet softly padding across the floor as you hurry to the door. You open it as quietly as possible, your grin widening the moment you see whoâs waiting on the other side.
James.
He stands there, dark tousled hair and that familiar mischievous smile that always manages to light up the dim hallway. Youâve known him your entire life, growing up together under the roof of the Howlett estate. Your parents, both loyal servants to the Howlett family, were fortunate enough to be granted permission raise you alongside their son.
From the moment you could walk, you and James were inseparable, sharing countless adventures in the woods, running across the estateâs gardens, and whispering secrets to one another under moonlit skies.
"About time," you whisper, teasing him with a playful glint in your eyes. "You really know how to keep a lady waiting, donât you?"
A soft snort escapes his lips as he grabs your hand, pulling you gently into the hallway. "My deepest apologies, Mâlady," he replies with mock formality, the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement. "I had to... attend to urgent business in the necessary."
You snicker, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Ah, I see. Was it a fulfilling experience, sir Howlett?"
He glances over his shoulder, rolling his eyes with exaggerated exasperation, though you catch the small smirk tugging at his lips. He doesnât respond, but his silence confirms everything. It was.
The rest of the trip is quiet, the two of you moving stealthily through the darkened corridors, careful not to disturb anyone or draw unwanted attention. After all, your mother would certainly disapprove of such late-night rendezvous. It is improper, she would say.
But what choice did you have? The day offered no time for moments like this. You were busy training to take over as the next chief maid, learning the endless routines of the household, while James spent his time with his family or other highborn friends. It was only after hours, when the mansion finally settled, that the two of you could steal away for these secret meetings.
Finally, you reach the gardens. The crisp night air greets you as you slip away from any prying eyes. Thereâs a familiar sense of peace here, among the fragrant flowers and the towering trees that shield you from the world. James leads you to your usual spot, a stone bench tucked beneath the shadow of the hedges. Wordlessly, he slips off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders before taking a dramatic bow.
"To keep you warm, Mâlady," he says softly.
"Hush, James," you laugh, finding his antics endearing.Â
Youâre grateful, especially as the cool night air nips at your exposed skin. The nightgown, while comfortable, offers little protection against the chill. You pull his jacket tighter around yourself, then pat the empty spot next to you, gesturing to him to sit, to which he does.
âHow was your day?" you prompt.
James sighs, leaning back on the bench, his hand casually resting behind you as he stares up at the sky. "Same old, same old," he starts, a familiar twinge of annoyance creeping into his voice. "You know how it is. Dinners with my parents, listeninâ to old men talk about businesses I'll never care about, trying not to fall asleep while they drone on about investments or land expansions. Itâs all so posh."
You stifle a giggle, nudging him playfully with your elbow. "Posh? You sound like you're living the dream."
He rolls his eyes dramatically. "If by 'dream,' you mean sitting there pretending to care while wonderinâ how quickly I can escape to see you, then yeah, it's an absolute dream," he quips sarcastically.
Sniggering, you bring your hand up to your forehead, acting distressed. "Oh, how tragic. The poor Lord James Howlett, trapped in a world of lavish dinners and fancy wine. Whatever will you do?"
"Mock me all you want, but itâs unbearable," he groans, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I hate it. All the stuffy clothes, the fake smiles, the way everyone acts like they're better than everyone else." He pauses for a moment, then glances sideways at you. "You're the only real thing here."
The sincerity in his words makes your heart flutter, and youâre suddenly grateful for the darkness hiding the faint blush creeping up your cheeks. Looking away, you try to play it off. "Well, if thatâs the case, I guess I should charge you for my company," you tease coyly.
He lets out a huff of amusement, shaking his head. "I'll pay whatever price you want.â
There's a pause as you both sit in comfortable silence. Just then, a soft breeze sweeps through the garden, catching the edges of your nightgown and fanning it up slightly. Before you can even react, he swiftly moves his jacket from your shoulders to your lap, covering your legs. His hand lingers, making sure you're covered before he hastily wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you close against him.
The warmth from his body contrasts with the cool air, and you can't help but laugh softly at his sudden behaviour. "Wow, you really are a gentleman, James."
He tenses slightly, his grip on your shoulder loosening as he looks away, clearly flustered. "IâI just didnât want you to get cold," he mumbles, his usual confidence faltering.
You smile at how shy he suddenly seems, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Thank you. Itâs sweet."
For a brief second, he says nothing, but you can feel the way his heartbeat picks up just a little. Then, almost too quietly, he mutters, "Iâd do anythinâ for you."
Your breath catches in your throat, and you tilt your head to look up at him. But you canât respond, because he clears his throat, looking down at you with a small, sheepish smile. "What about you? Any exciting adventures in the life of a future chief maid?"
Grinning, you recognize his attempt to shift the conversation, and decide to let it go for now. "Oh, you know, the usual. A thrilling day of dusting, folding linens, and trying not to spill tea on your motherâs favourite rug."
He chuckles, pulling you a little closer. "Sounds way more exciting than my day."
You hum in acknowledgement, letting the moment linger. Neither of you speak for a bit, just relishing being in each otherâs presence.Â
"So, do tell," you say after a while, breaking the silence, "if you could get away from all the fancy dinners and boring conversations, what would you do?"
He smiles slightly, his gaze still fixed on the star-filled sky. "Iâd leave. Go far away from here, maybe somewhere quiet. Live in the countryside, where no one cares about wealth or titles." His eyes drop to meet yours. "Maybe youâd come with me."
You laugh gently. "And who would take care of your family if we both ran off?"
Shrugging, his expression grows more serious. "They donât need me. They need someone whoâll do what they wantâsomeone to follow in their footsteps. Thatâs never been me."
Thereâs a weight in his words, and you feel a pang of sympathy for him. Youâre about to respond, to tell him you understand more than he realizes, whenâ
BANG.
Your body stiffens instantly, heart beginning to pound in your chest as you straighten up, eyes wide.
"What the hell was that?" James asks sharply. He turns to you, his face mirroring the confusion and unease you're feeling.
Shaking your head, you swallow the lump thatâs forming in your throat. "It sounded like a gunshot."
The two of you stare at each other for a beat, then, right when youâre going to speak again, you hear itâhis motherâs scream. Itâs high-pitched, panicked, and it sends a jolt of fear through you both.
"Help!" she shrieks from inside the mansion. "James, help!"
Without a word, you bolt to your feet, the peaceful night forgotten as you rush back inside. Your heart is racing as your bare feet fly across the grass, nightgown fluttering behind you. James is ahead of you, moving fast, his expression shifting from confusion to pure fear.
As you reach the back entrance, your mind races with possibilities, none of them good. You burst through the door into the hallway, your breathing laboured from the sudden sprint. Something is terribly wrong.
"Mother!" He calls, his voice sharp with panic as he leads the way toward the main staircase. You follow close behind, anxiety coiling tight in your chest.
Once you get to the bottom of the stairs, you hear footstepsâheavy, hurriedâand then you see her. Mrs. Howlett, wide-eyed and pale, comes hurrying down from the upper floor, clutching the banister for support. Her hands are trembling.
"James!" she cries. "Your fatherâheâs been shot!"
The boy beside you freezes, face going white. "What?" he breathes, disbelief etched into every syllable.
"Heâhe was in his study, and IâI heard the gunfire. IâI donât know what happened. I donât know whoâ" Her voice breaks, and tears stream down her face as she struggles to speak. "We need to get help!"
He doesnât waste another second, taking off up the stairs, his long strides making quick work of the distance. You trail after him. How could this happen? Who couldâve done this?
When you reach the second floor, you see the study door slightly ajar, light spilling out into the dark hallway. James' hand wavers over the doorknob for only a moment before pushing the it open wide.
Inside, the scene is worse than you imagined.
There, slumped over his desk, is Mr. Howlett. His once pristine office now looks chaoticâpapers scattered, a window broken, and blood, so much blood. A crimson stain is spreading across his shirt.
"Father," James chokes out, rushing to his side, his hands shaking as he reaches for him.
You stand paralyzed for a moment, the sight rendering you speechless, but then the adrenaline kicks in, and you move further into the room. Your mind is screaming at you to do something, anything, but all you can do is watch as James desperately tries to wake his father, calling his name again and again.
Trying to make sense of the horrific scene, your attention is dragged away by the sound of footsteps shuffling behind you. Thomas Logan, the groundskeeper, stumbles in, his movements clumsy, his face twisted with drunkenness. His bloodshot eyes are manic, and in his trembling hand, heâs clutching a gunâthe same one that must have been used to end Mr. Howlettâs life.
"Thomas!" Mrs. Howlett yelps. "What are you doing?"
James turns sharply, still kneeling beside his fatherâs body, his expression hardening immediately. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Thomas lets out a low, slurred laugh, staggering further into the room. His eyes flick between you, James, and Mrs. Howlett, but his focus remains hazy. "Iâve had enough of this, enough of all of it," he mutters, waving the gun in the air. "Your precious mother thought she could keep the truth from you. But itâs time you knew the truth, boy."
"What truth?" The younger man demands harshly.
Swaying on his feet, he points the gun directly at James, his finger twitching dangerously on the trigger. "Iâm not just the groundskeeper, you idiot," he snarls venomously, "Iâm your damn father."
Itâs as if the room has been put on pause. You feel the air leave your lungs, your mind scrambling to make sense of what you just heard. Glancing at your friend, you see the disbelief wash over his features, his eyes widening with shock, denial.
"No," he whispers, shaking his head, backing away slightly. "You're lying. Youâre drunk."
But the older man just laughs, the sound hollow and bitter. "You think John Howlett was your father? That man never wanted you! He raised you because he had to, not because you were his. Youâre mine, boy. My flesh and blood,â he jerks his head in the direction of Mrs. Howlett. âGo ahead, ask your mama."
You hear Mrs. Howlett begin to blubber in the background at the accusation, but your attention is solely on the boy in front of you.
Betrayal is written all over his face.
His breath quickens, and his hands clench into fists at his sides. You want to reach out to him, concern puling you forward, but then he lets out a screamâa sound so full of pain that you stop in your tracks.
"James!" you cry, but he doesnât seem to hear you. His eyes squeeze shut, and his body convulses, as though something inside him is tearing him apart from the inside out.
The sickening sound of skin breaking fills your ears, and bone claws shoot out from his knuckles. They gleam in the dim light of the room, sharp and lethal. The sight of them is nauseating, but youâre unable to look away as James blinks, gazing down at his hands, dumbfounded.
"Whatâ" he rasps, his chest heaving. "Whatâs happening to me?"
âWhat the hell is this?â Thomas sneers in disgust. He stumbles, reaching for the wall to steady himself. âFigures... Of course my sonâs a freak.â
âYou were always a fuck-up,â he continues in his drunken rage. âUseless, soft... a disappointment from the start. Just like your mother. Look at you now, boy.â
âIâm not your boy,â James snarls through gritted teeth, rage building inside him. His eyes flash dangerously. Itâs as if something inside him has snapped, some deep, instinctual part of him that has been lying dormant, waiting for this very moment.
âYouâre right. Youâre no son of mine. Just a goddamn mistake. Shouldâve left you in the dirt with yourâ"
Before he can finish, a roar rips from Jamesâs throat. So raw, so animalistic, you get goosebumps. His entire body tenses, muscles coiled, and then, with terrifying speed, he lunges.
In an instant, his claws sink deep into Thomasâs chest with a thunk. The force of the blow sends the older man crashing back, disbelief and agony seizing his face as blood sprays across the room, spattering the walls and floor. His body thrashes, his hands weakly grasping at his sonâs wrists, but thereâs no strength left in him.Â
A gurgling gasp bubbles from his throat, and then it's over. He collapses to the ground, lifeless, as James stands over him, claws retreating back into his skin.Â
"James!" Mrs. Howlett screams, her voice piercing. "What have you done?!"
You donât know how to react. You canât process it, canât breathe. All you know is that you need to get out of hereâget James out of here, away from this nightmare before it consumes him. Without thinking, you rush to his side, grabbing his bloodied hand.
"We have to go!" you say urgently.
His eyes dart to you, frantic and unfocused but he doesnât resist as you pull him toward the door. His mother's cries echo behind you, but you canât stop, canât look back.
You runâboth of youâthrough the hallways, out the back door, and into the dark of night. The wind whips around you, stinging your face, but you donât stop. You run until your legs burn, until youâve entered the surrounding forest, and the Howlett estate is nothing but a distant shadow behind you.Â
All the while, Jamesâs hand stays locked in yours.
Branches scratch everywhere, at your arms, your face, and the underbrush tugs at your clothes as if trying to hold you back, but you push on. Only after the first light of dawn begins to creep in, does the exhaustion hit. Bodies aching and bruised, the two of you collapse beside a small stream.Â
Youâre on your back, catching you breath, when you tilt to your head to look over at your friend. Heâs sitting down, with his hands out in front of him, leering at them. He struggles for air, his breaths coming in short, panicked bursts, and his clothes are torn, stained with bloodâhis fatherâs blood, Thomasâ blood.Â
His claws are long retracted, but the scars of where they came out of his skin are there, fresh.Â
"James," you whisper, but he doesnât respond. Slowly, you crawl over to his side, pain flaring with each movement. When you reach him, you sit on your knees, looking up at him, trying to meet his gaze. You repeat his name, more firmly this time.
He finally looks at you, but heâs broken. His lips tremble as he opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a choked, almost inaudible, "What did I do?"
Your heart aches for him. Reaching out, you gently take one of his bloodied hands in yours, and as soon as your skin touches his, he flinches, pulling back slightly. "I killed him." he whispers, more to himself than anything. âIâI didnât mean to, I swear I didnât mean to!"
"Hey, listen to me," you say. "You didnât know. You couldnât have known this would happen."
"I killed him," he repeats. "I killed Thomas. Iâ" He glances down at his hands, at the scars along his knuckles, and his expression crumples completely. âHe was my father.â
You donât know what to say, donât know how to fix this, but you know you have to try, so you wrap your arms around him. At first, he stiffens, but then he collapses to the ground, pulling you down with him. You land on top, your chest pressed against his as the weight of your bodies crashes into the soft earth. He squeezes you like youâre the only thing keeping him grounded, his face buried in your shoulder as his breath comes in short, broken sobs.
"I didnât mean to do it," he repeats, the words muffled against your skin. "Something just changed inside me. What am I? What am I turning into?"
âHush," you whisper, moving one of your hands to brush his hair. "Look at me. Just breathe, okay? Youâre not alone in this. Weâll figure it out together, I promise."
His arms tighten around you, pulling you even closer. Itâs overwhelming, but you donât push him away. Instead, you let him hold you as tightly as he needs, your fingers gently stroking the back of his head, trying to console him in any way you can.
"Iâm a monster," he whimpers. "What if I hurt you, too?"
"You wonât," you affirm, lips brushing against his ear as you whisper. "Youâre not a monster. This⌠this thing that happened, it doesnât change who you are. Youâre still you."
Beneath you, his body shakes, overcome by emotion he holds onto you. Your forehead is pressed to against his, your breath mingling with his while you continue to whisper reassurances, telling him over and over that itâs going to be okay, that heâs not alone.
Minutes pass, maybe longerâyou lose track of time as you lie there together. Gradually, his cries begin to quiet, his breathing slowing as the storm inside him starts to subside. His grip on you loosens slightly, but he doesnât let go fully, still cradling you in his arms.
Shifting, you raise your head to look at him. His eyes are red, his face pale, but heâs calmer. You start to pull yourself off of him, but as you're standing up, he grasps your hand again, and he looks at you with a tired, grateful expression, squeezing it gently as if to say everything he canât put into words yet.
Then, you continue. Hand in hand, you move deeper into the forest. And finally, after a few more hours, you notice something in the distance. Through the trees, there are rooftops, small and clustered together, their chimneys trailing thin lines of smoke into the evening sky.
âA town,â you whisper, the first word youâve spoken in hours.
He follows your gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the sight of the small mining town nestled in the valley.
In it, the peopleâs faces are etched with lines of hard labour and even harder lives, but still, you know youâll be safe there.Â
â
Initially, itâs difficultâthis new life you and James have carved out is a far cry from the comforts of the Howlett estate. The town youâve settled in is rough and unpolished. You both share a modest shack on the outskirts, a place that feels foreign and strange, but over time, it starts to become home.
He finds work in the mines almost immediately. The foreman takes one look at him, his broad shoulders and strong arms, and practically shoves a shovel in his hand without asking any questions. The job is tough, but it suits him.Â
Every evening, he comes back to you covered in soot and dirt, his hands rough and calloused, his face lined with exhaustion. You can see the toll the work takes on him, how his body aches, but thereâs something else tooâa measure of peace that wasnât there before. Itâs as if heâs found a way to silence the chaos inside him, at least for a little while.
Itâs not long before everyone in town begins to call him Logan, a name he offers with indifference when asked.
A new identity.Â
Logan is a man who works hard, who keeps to himself, who doesnât ask for anything more than a paycheck at the end of the week.Â
Logan is a man who doesnât need anyone, who can survive on his own.Â
To you, heâs still James.Â
In the quiet moments, when itâs just the two of you, he lets down the walls, lets you see through the façade. And when you whisper his nameâJamesâhe closes his eyes as if that one word alone soothes something deep in his soul.
After weeks of watching him silently carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, you offer him a rag to wipe his face as he sits down at the small table youâve cobbled together from scraps. He takes it without a word, rubbing at the grime on his skin.
âYou donât have to do this forever, you know,â you say softly, leaning against the table as he tosses the rag aside. "Thereâs more to life than breaking your back underground."
He glances at you. "Itâs all Iâm good for now."
"Youâre good for more than that," you reply walking up to him, reaching for his hand. He lets you take it, like he always does. "You canât let what happened define you."
His jaw tightens, but he doesnât pull away. Instead, he gives your hand a small squeeze, his eyes drifting to the floor as he mumbles, "Whatâs inside me⌠itâs different. You donât know what itâs like."
You donât argue. How could you?
The changes in him, the way his strength has grown, how his senses have sharpened, it all impacts him. He can hear things no one else can, smell the rain long before it falls, and even in complete darkness, he sees as clearly as if it were day. His powers are evolving, changing him.
But you know, deep down, that the man sitting in front of you is your friendâyour Jamesâno matter what heâs become.
Youâve seen him wrestle with the fear of what he might turn into, the fear of losing control, but you also see the man who leans into your touch, who lets you bandage his hands after long days in the mines, who presses his forehead to yours when the nights grow too heavy with silence.
And as your time together in the town goes by, there is a shift.
It starts with small thingsâa lingering glance, a brush of your fingers as you pass each other in the kitchen, the way he looks at you when he thinks youâre not paying attention.
Then, it moves to bigger gestures. When youâd pack him his lunch fo the day, you slip in a small piece of parchment with a heart hastily drawn on it, or at night time, instead of falling asleep backs turned toward each other, awkwardly trying to ignore whatever tension is brewing, you fall asleep in his arms, and wake up the same way.
It gets to a point where you can neither of you can deny it.Â
Youâve fallen in love.
â
Itâs late, and youâre sitting by the fire outside the small cabin, waiting for him to return from one of his now-frequent disappearances into the woods. You used to worry about where he went, afraid he was distancing himself from you, so one night you followed him. What you found took your breath awayâhim, sitting out on a ledge, with some wild animals surrounding him. There was something in him that they must have recognized, a mutual respect that seemed to transcend anything human.
Since then, youâve let him go without asking questions, trusting that those nights in the woods bring him the peace he canât find anywhere else. But tonight, when he returns, heâs different. He doesnât just brush past you to head inside. Instead, he sits beside you by the fire.
You turn to him, about to ask if everythingâs alright, but the words catch in your throat when his hand cups your jaw. His grip is gentle, hesitant, as if heâs afraid to break the moment, but in his eyes, you find a longing, a yearning, that mirrors your own.Â
His thumb brushes over your cheek, and for the first time in a long time, thereâs no hesitation in his movements. Your heart stutters, and when he pulls you closer, you let him. His lips meet yours, careful at first, but as you kiss him back, you feel the stress drain from his body.Â
The kiss deepens, slow, tender, and everything youâve ever wanted.
â
The next few years are a kind of peaceful bliss you never expected. With each passing day, you and Logan seem to fall deeper into each other, the bond you share growing stronger, more intimate, like youâve finally found the rhythm of the life you were always meant to have together.
Mornings are your favourite. He always wakes up first, moving quietly so as not to wake you, and heâs gotten into the habit of making you breakfast. You always sneak out of bed and snake your arms around him from behind, pressing your face into his back as he grumbles about you not getting enough sleep. âYouâre always up too early,â heâd say.Â
âI like being up with you,â youâd mumble in response, and heâll turn around, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his eyes soft and full of that quiet, steady love heâs never really put into words. And then heâd kiss you like he has all the time in the world, even if he has to head over to the mines.Â
On your days off from your job at the pub, youâll spend hours together, finding little ways to enjoy the simplicity of your life. He will sometimes take you out to the woods behind the house, where youâd walk the trails together. He points out the different wildlife, the plants you donât recognize, and you tease him about being a mountain man. Heâd smirk, giving you that low, raspy chuckle that never fails to make your heart seize in your chest, and tug you closer to his side.
In the evenings, oftentimes, you sit together while you knit, something that started as a hobby but quickly became one of your preferred pastimes. He always pretends to be uninterested, but heâll watch you anyway. âYouâre getting good at that,â heâd say gruffly.Â
âWant me to make you a sweater?â You smirk, raising an eyebrow.
âMaybe,â heâd grumble, but you can tell heâs secretly pleased at the idea.
The town itself becomes part of your life together, too. Youâve made friends with the locals, joining a small knitting club. If he has time, Logan drops by the pub on your shifts just to check in, sitting at the bar with a beer and watching you work. When your gazes connect very now and then, he gives you that lookâthe one that says heâs proud of you, that heâs content.
âWeâve got a good thing here,â he murmurs one night, holding you close.Â
âYeah,â you agree softly, kissing his cheek. âWe really do.â
But, all good things must come to an end.Â
The mining town, though small and isolated, isnât immune to the tensions that fester beneath the surface. Harsh conditions, grueling work, and the endless grind wear people down, turning frustration into anger, and anger into violence. Fights break out often, especially in the saloon after a long day when men try to drown their sorrows in whiskey. You both have learned to keep your distance from such skirmishes, knowing nothing good ever comes from getting involved.
Still, one night, as you return home from your evening shift at the pub, you hear the unmistakable sounds of a brawl breaking out in the middle of the street. Shouts reverberate through the cold air, followed by the crash of breaking glass. Your heart races as you recognize the deep, guttural growl cutting through the noiseâa sound you know all too well.
On impulse, you rush toward the commotion, dread pooling in your stomach. You know this wonât end well. Not here. Not for him.
When you reach the scene, your worst fears are confirmed. He stands in the centre of the chaos, fists clenched at his sides. Two men circle him, their faces twisted with drunken aggression, goading him. The small crowd thatâs gathered seems almost entertained, too caught up in the spectacle to understand the true danger festering.
âJames!â you shout, trying to get his attention, but to no avail.
One of the menâa burly miner youâve seen around town a few times, always looking for troubleâlunges forward, his fist swinging. The punch connects with your manâs jaw, hard enough to stagger him back, but instead of falling, you see something shift in Loganâs expression. His eyes darken, his jaw tightens. Then, his claws slowly begin sliding out of his knuckles.
The crowd gasps, and the laughter dies immediately.
âDonât come any closer,â he growls, his voice low and full of warning. His chest heaves as he struggles to keep control, but you can see the fire burning behind his eyes. Heâs on the edge, teetering dangerously close to losing himself.
But the miner, too drunk and furious to notice or care, spits on the ground. âFreak!â he slurs, venom lacing every word. âYou think you scare me?â
He charges at Logan again, fists swinging recklessly. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you scream for him to stop. But itâs too late. Logan tries to pull back, to stop whatâs about to happen, but the man is too close, too fast.
Everything slows down, the world moving in fractured seconds. Claws slice through the air, meeting flesh with a sickening thud. The miner gasps, his eyes widening in shock as he stumbles, clutching at his chest where the claws have sunk deep. Blood blooms around his hands, staining the dirt beneath his feet.
And suddenly, youâre thrust back into the past. You see James as he was all those years ago, his claws dripping with blood after killing Thomas. The memory crashes into youâthe look of fear on his face, the horror in his eyes, the way he stumbled back, realizing what heâd done.
Just like now.
Loganâs eyes go wide, his expression mirroring that same devastation. He steps back, staring at the miner who crumples to the ground, gasping for breath. What follows is a deafening silence, the air thick with shock and disbelief. The townspeople that had been so eager for a show now stand frozen, eyes wide, faces pale.
The man gasps one last breath, then goes still.
Logan stares at the body at his feet, his claws still extended, still dripping with the manâs blood. His chest heaves, his breath shallow, and he mutters under his breath, barely audible, "Oh god⌠Not again."
You rush to his side, grabbing his arm in desperation. "Come on, letâs go home."
He doesnât move. Heâs locked in place, staring at the man heâs just killed. His hands tremble, the claws still out, and you can see the raw pain in his eyes as the reality of whatâs just happened sinks in.
"I didnât mean to," he whispers again, his voice cracking. "I didnât⌠I didnât mean toâŚ"
â
That night, while you're sleeping, Logan makes his decision.
And when you wake up the next day, the space beside you is cold.
The shack feels too quiet, too still.Â
All you can do is stare at the empty spot in your bed. You tell yourself that maybe heâs outside, chopping wood or heâs already left for work. But deep down, you know.Â
Throwing on your boots, you donât bother to change out of your nightclothes, and rush outside. His name is the first thing out of your mouth, sharp and desperate. "James! Logan!" Your voice barrels through the small yard, bouncing off the trees and fading into the cool morning air.Â
Thereâs no answer.
Panic grips you as you search the familiar placesâaround the shack, the small trail he likes to take into the woods, by the creek where he often spends time when he needs to clear his head. Thereâs no sign of him.
No footprints, no lingering scent. Nothing.
The townspeople stare as you move through the streets. They know what happened. They saw the claws, the blood. And now, they see youâa reminder of the violence that tore through their quiet lives. But you donât care about their judgment right now. Youâre too focused looking for him, too frantic to worry about the whispers that follow in your wake.
"Have you seen him?" you ask one of the miners who had once shared a drink with him, but he shakes his head and pulls away from you, muttering something under his breath. Everybody keeps their distance, their faces closed off, avoiding your gaze.Â
By the time the sun climbs higher in the sky, the truth settles in your chest like a heavy stone. He left. You wander the streets a little longer, until exhaustion finally forces you back to the shack.
He didnât say goodbye. He didnât even leave a note. The man who you shared your life with, who you fell in love with, is goneâand he isnât coming back.
In the days that follow, everything changes. The people who once greeted you with a nod or a smile now avert their eyes when you walk by. They speak in hushed tones, voices thick with suspicion and disdain.Â
Nobody cares that you had nothing to do with what happened in the street that night. To them, youâre guilty by association.
It starts slowly, but the gossip spreads like wildfire. Saying thinks like: you knew what Logan was all along, that you hid his secret, allowed him to kill their men. Their anger turns to you, and before long, you become the pariahâcut off, unwelcome, the person responsible for the death of one of their own.
The day they decide to exile you is gray and heavy, the sky thick with the promise of rain. No one has the decency to say it to your face. Instead, you wake to a note slipped under your door, the word leave scrawled across it in angry, uneven letters.
You pack what little belongings you haveâa few clothes, some keepsakes from the life you left behind at the Howlett estateâand sling a small bag over your shoulder. Then, you walk away without looking back.
Stretching out before you is a desolate, abandoned looking road. Your legs ache with every step, your feet blistering inside your boots, but you donât stop. The memories of Logan, the town, the life you tried to build together swirl in your mind.
The sound of a a horse whinnying pulls you from your thoughts, and you turn to see a carriage approaching. The coachmanâa man with kind eyes and a weathered faceâslows as he pulls alongside you. His voice soft and cautious as he asks, "Need a ride?"
Nodding, youâre too exhausted to respond with words, and climb into the passenger seat. He doesnât ask many questions, sensing perhaps that youâre a soul in need of silence more than conversation. He drives in quiet companionship, the horses' feet against the dirt the only sound breaking the stillness.
He takes you to the nearest town, dropping you off with a quiet wish for better days ahead. You thank him and give him a few coins. Youâre standing on the edge of a new beginning, unsure of where to go next but knowing, with painful certainty, that the past is behind you now.
â
In this new place, you slowly begin to rebuild what youâve lost. It isnât easyâthere are nights when the loneliness threatens to swallow you whole and days when the weight of losing your best friend feels too much to bear. Still, you find work at a small shop, rent a modest room in the quieter part of town, and painstakingly, you carve out a new existence.Â
Though no matter how hard you try to move forward, heâs always there. A shadow, lingering in the corners of your mind. You canât forget himâthe way he looked at you with those intense, searching eyes, the way he held you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, the way he left without a word. Your entire childhood, your early adulthood, revolved around him. He was the best part of your life. Every moment spent with him was cherished, imprinted in your memory like a brand you canât erase.
Nights are the hardest. When the world is quiet, and itâs just you and your thoughts, thatâs when the ache becomes unbearable. Each night, your mind drifts back to him. You tell yourself it wasnât his faultâhe must have believed he was protecting you by leaving.Â
Maybe he thought you would hate him for killing another man with his claws, for unleashing the violence he tried so hard to contain. Maybe he thought you could never forgive him.
But the more you think about it, the more you realize: if he truly believed that, then he didnât know you at all.
And that hurts. A lot.
You start to feel like him in some ways, burdened by secrets and anger with nowhere to go. More often than not, you slip out of the town in your nightgown and into the nearby forest, hoping the solitude will offer some kind of peace. It doesnât, not really, but itâs better than suffocating in your room, choking on memories of what was and what could have been.
â
A year passes since the night he left, and you find yourself standing among the trees once again, lost in thought. Itâs not fairânone of it is. You lost everything, and for what? Because you loved him? Because you could look past his mutation?
All of the emotions youâve done a decent job at managing bubble to the surface, a torrent of grief and rage with nowhere to go. Mindlessly, you draw back your fist and slam it into the trunk of a nearby tree. The impact shoots a sharp pain through your arm, but itâs fleeting, drowned out by the rush of anger. You pull back to punch the tree again, harder this time, desperate for some kind of release.
But the tree doesnât just splinter. It explodes.Â
The force of your punch obliterates the trunk, sending shards of wood flying in all directions. You stagger back, staring at the destruction, stunned. What was just a tall, beautiful arbor is now reduced to nothing but rubble, the strength of your blow far beyond anything a normal person could achieve.
Your breath hitches when it dawns on you. Youâre standing in the middle of the forest, surrounded by the evidence of your newfound power. You arenât just grieving the loss of Logan anymore; youâre discovering that you are, just like him, a mutant.
Except, unlike him, youâre alone.
Heâs not here to hold you, to help you make sense of whatâs happening. Heâs not here to run away with you like you once ran away with him. You have no one to share this terrifying revelation with. You have only yourself.
Looking down at your trembling hands, the faint ache in your knuckles nothing compared to the pain in your chest. Itâs as if your heart is breaking all over again.
If you had knownâif you had discovered this power when he was still with youâwould things have been different? Would he have taken you with him? Would you still be together?
You canât stop the questions, canât silence the what-ifs that plague you.
Finally, the dam breaks, and you cry.
Pressing your fists against your eyes, you try to stifle the sobs, but itâs no use. The grief crashes over you in waves as the life you tried to build together all plays out in your mind like some twisted, unending loop.
â
The days bleed into one another.
Each is marked by the slow, steady march of time. You continue to live, to survive, but the discovery of your mutant powers changes everything, setting you on a path you had never imagined.
You learn that you can channel energy through your body, whether that be your emotions, or external, and then amplify it for your own gain. Itâs a power that protects you, that makes you feel invincible, but the more you use it, the more distant you become from the life you once knew.Â
And then thereâs the other side of your mutationâthe ability to heal others by absorbing their injuries.Â
The first time you did it, it was an accident.Â
You were closing up shop, and as you walked along the cobblestone roads, you saw a man lying face down. Instinctively, you quickened your pace, and crouched down beside him. Was he drunk? Dead? Gently, almost hesitantly, you reached out, placing your hand on his back with the faint hope that he was simply unconscious. Your intention was simpleâjust to check if he was breathing, to see if he would stir at your touch.
But the moment your fingers brushed his coat, a violent surge of pain exploded in your mind, like a thunderclap within your skull. The agony was so sudden, so sharp, that it nearly knocked you off your feet.Â
It was more than painâit was as though the manâs suffering had become yours, pulling you into his darkness. Your vision blurred, and for an instant, you could feel it. Blood. Hot and sticky, trickling down your forehead in a slow, steady stream. You raised a trembling hand to wipe it away, expecting to feel the warmth of it on your fingertips.
But there was nothing. No blood. No wound.
Just the phantom sensation of pain that wasnât your own.
Then, just as suddenly as it had come, the pain vanished. You blinked, gasping for air, trying to steady yourself. When you looked down at the man again, he was stirring, groaning softly. His eyes fluttered open, and he sat up, as if waking from a long sleep. He looked up at you, confused but grateful, oblivious to the power you had just unleashed.
It feels like a curse, the pain of others transferring to you in ways that leave you gasping for breath. But over time, you learn to control it, to take on only as much as you can handle, and to let the rest fade away.
You never stay too long in one place. Town after town, you move, always careful to keep your powers hidden. The people you encounter are kind enough, but you never allow yourself to get close. You canât afford toânot when the memory of him still haunts you, his absence a constant ache in your heart.Â
What if they leave you too?
Every now and then, there are some nights of passion with a stranger, but you never find another lover, never allow yourself to even consider it.Â
As the years slip by, and you move through life like a ghost, always on the fringes, never fully there. In the beginning, you donât notice itâtime is something you stopped paying attention to long ago. But then, one day, nearly ten years after he left, you catch sight of yourself in a mirror.
Your reflection stares back at you, unchanged, unmarked by the years that have passed. Itâs as if time has forgotten you, leaving you suspended in a state of perpetual youth. This knowledgeâthat you could live indefinitelyâfills you with a sense of purpose you havenât felt in years.
So, when the First World War breaks out, you volunteer as a nurse, determined to use your abilities to save as many lives as you can. The troops who come to you are broken, their bodies ravaged by the horrors of war. You take their pain into yourself, healing them with a touch, until there is nothing left but faint scarsâa reminder of what they have survived.
Itâs during the Second World War that you first hear the rumours. Injured men speak in hushed tones of a man they sawâa soldier who seemed invincible, fighting with a ferocity that borders on the inhuman. They talk of clawsâlong, sharp claws that can cut through anything, and a healing ability that allows him to shrug off injuries that would kill anyone else.
Could it be him? Could he still be out there, after all these years?
You dismiss the thought almost as quickly as it comes. It canât be. He would be dead by now, just like everyone else from your past.Â
He is gone, and you are aloneâthatâs the truth youâve come to accept.
â
Somewhere along the way, you meet Charles Xavier. You donât know how, but he knows you. He knows youâre a mutantâhow you helped in the war. And he wants you to join his team.
Youâve spent so long on your own, relying on your powers to survive, that the idea of joining a team feels foreign, almost impossible. But thereâs something in his eyes, something in the way he speaks of his vision for the future, that resonates with you. This isnât just about survivalâitâs about making a difference, about using your powers to protect those who canât protect themselves.Â
And, perhaps, itâs also about finding closure.
Maybe you can help mutants who struggle with their identity, like he did. Maybe this time, you can stop them from running away from themselves, the way you wish you could have stopped him.
So you agree.
And when you arrive at the mansion, youâre introduced to the others who will become your teammatesâJean Grey, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Ororo Munroe.
The early days are challenging. Learning to work as a team, to trust one another, isnât easy, especially for you, after so many years of solitude. But a camaraderie that develops between all of you, and it feels right. Youâre no longer just a group of shunned mutantsâyouâre a family, united by a common goal.
â
This mission is supposed to be simpleâinvestigate a remote facility rumoured to have ties to illegal mutant experimentation. Charles had briefed the team before sending you out, warning that there might be danger but nothing you couldnât handle as a group. Youâve faced threats before, so when you arrive at the facility, itâs with the usual caution but no real alarm.
The structure looks forsaken at first glance, the exterior covered in years of grime, windows cracked and dark. But as you all approach, something feels wrong. Thereâs an energy in the air, a hum of activity beneath the surface. You can sense it, and by the looks of the others, they feel it too.
âWe should be careful,â Scott mutters lowly as his hand hovers near his visor.
Jean furrows her brows. âIâm sensing...something. There are people here. This place isnât emptyâ
Your stomach twists, and once the team cautiously makes its way deeper into the facility, you start to hear itâthe muffled sounds of machinery, the low hum of voices, and then...a scream.
You freeze.
Youâve heard that scream before, in the dead of night, in memories youâve tried to bury.
James.
Without thinking, you push forward, your body moving on instinct as you race toward the source of the sound. The others call after you, but their voices fade into the background as panic claws at your chest.
The scream grows louder, more desperate, until you burst into a large chamber. And there, in the center of the room, suspended in a tank of bubbling liquid, he is.
His body is thrashing against the restraints that bind him, wires and tubes connected to his skin. Machines whir around him, injecting something into his bodyâsomething molten, silvery.Â
A team of scientists in lab coats and armed guards surround the tank, all of them focused on the cruel procedure unfolding before your eyes.
You can barely breathe. The sight of him, after all these yearsâbeing tortured like this is too much. Pain and rage surge through you, and before you realize whatâs happening, youâre moving again.
âWhat the hell are you doing?!â you scream.
The guards whirl toward you, but youâre already on them. The first one goes down with a single blow, your fist connecting with his chest and sending him flying into the wall. You barely register his body crumpling to the floor before you move on to the next.Â
Behind you, Jean and Scott rush in, their powers flashing as they help subdue the remaining guards, but your focus is on the man in the tank, whose eyes are squeezed shut in pain, body convulsing. You canât think straightâyou can only feel the overwhelming need to make this stop, to save him before the experiment finishes.Â
But itâs too late.
In a roar of destruction, he breaks free from the tank, glass and metal exploding outward in every direction. His eyes are wild, erratic, his mind lost to the pain and the transformationâheâs a force of nature now. A whirlwind of violence and fury.
You try to reach him, but Jean steps forward, her eyes glowing as she raises a hand. âIâm sorry,â she strains. Her telekinetic force slams into him, knocking him off his feet, and his body crumples to the ground, unconscious, the rage finally quieted.
Standing there, panting, your hands are shaking as you stare at his still form. Youâre overwhelmedâby the sight of him after so many years, by the pain of seeing him like this, by the fear that you might lose him before you even got him back.
Scott places a hand on your shoulder, his voice gentle. âWe need to get him out of here.â
You nod, unable to speak, and together, the team lifts Loganâs unconscious body and carries him out of the facility. The entire time, you keep your eyes on him, terrified that if you look away for even a second, heâll disappear. When you finally make it back to the jet, Jean lays him on a stretcher, her powers keeping him sedated for the trip back to the X-Mansion. You sit beside him, your hand hovering just above his, too afraid to touch, too afraid to hope.
The jet lifts off, and your mind races with a thousand questions.Â
How did he end up here? Why did they do this to him?Â
But above all, one thought consumes you: Heâs alive.
After all these years, after all the heartache and loss, LoganâJamesâis still here.
â
He remains unconscious for three days, his body healing from the horrific procedure he endured. You barely leave his side, watching over him as if your presence alone could somehow anchor him back to himself. His breathing is steady, but his faceâitâs both exactly the same and entirely foreign to you. He looks like the man youâve known and loved, but itâs what is on the inside that worries you.
You swallow hard, your gaze tracing the familiar lines on his skin. Where are you, James? you think. Are you still in there?
Jean had done a body scan soon after you brought him back to the mansion, and the results confirmed your worst fears: theyâve bound adamantium to his bones and buried his personality underneath the most powerful brainwashing youâve ever heard of.
Itâs devastating. Whatever relief youâd feltâif any at allâat finding him alive is now eclipsed by the crushing reality of what heâs become.
The day he is scheduled to wake, Charles calls a meeting. The team gathers in the briefing room, and you sit quietly in your chair, replaying everything that led up to this moment.
Following a seemingly endless stretch of silence from you, Charles clears his throat. âIf youâre ready, perhaps you could tell us more about your history with him. It might help us understand what weâre dealing with.â
A deep breath fills your lungs as your hands clutch the tableâs edge tightly. Talking about him, about everything youâve been through together, feels like peeling at old wounds that never really healed. But you know itâs necessary. If anyone is going to help him, they need to know the truth.
âI met LoganâJames, as I used to call himâover a hundred years ago, when I was very youngâ you begin, and you can see the surprise ripple through the room at the admission of your age. âWe grew up together. My parents were servants at the Howlett estate, and I spent most of my childhood by his side. He was my best friend⌠and eventually, he became so much more.â Your voice cracks, and you pause for a moment, collecting yourself.
âAfter a tragedy involving his family, we ran away together. We lived in a small mining town for years, trying to find some semblance of a life, but things fell apart. He left, and IâI spent years trying to forget him, but I never could. He wasâisâeverything to me."
Jean leans forward. âI canât imagine how hard this has been for you,â she says softly. âBut you need to prepare yourself for the possibility that when he wakes up⌠he may not be the man you remember, and not just because of how much time passed.â
You look up at her in confusion. âWhat do you mean?â
She hesitates, exchanging a glance with Charles before continuing. âThe brainwashing they used on him wasnât just designed to make him forget. It was meant to strip away his sense of self entirely. His mind was⌠broken down, piece by piece. What you saw back at the facilityâhis rage, his lack of controlâthatâs whatâs left of him right now.â
Hank speaks next. âWeâll do everything we can to help him, but Jeanâs right. You need to be ready for the possibility that he wonât recognize you. He might not even recognize himself.â
Nodding slowly, your heart sinks further and further with each word.Â
âWe have tools, ways to work through the brainwashing,â he continues, âbut it will take time. And patience.â
âTime,â you echo quietly. âIâve already waited so long.â
Ororo reaches across the table, her hand hovering near yours. âI know this is overwhelming. But you donât have to do this alone. Weâre here to help.â
âI need to see him,â you whisper, your voice firmer than before. âWhen he wakes up, I need to be there.â
Charles nods gently. âOf course.â
â
When he finally stirs, itâs not a gentle awakening. His whole body jerks, his head whipping around in wild confusion. His breaths come in sharp, uneven gasps, and his eyes dart frantically across the room, taking in his unfamiliar surroundings, and just as his eyes finally land on you, he freezes.
And for a long moment, neither of you speak.
Thereâs a lump in your throat, and you wait with a bated breath for some flicker of recognition in his eyes, some sign that he remembers youâthat he knows you.
But it never comes.
Instead, his gaze narrows, studying you. âWhere the hell am I?â he grunts. âAnd who are you?â
It hurts more than you expected. You knew this might happenâJean and Charles had warned youâand you thought you had prepared yourself, but it doesnât make hearing it any easier.Â
He doesnât remember you.Â
âJust take it easy,â you manage to say softly. âYouâve been through a lot, James.â
His eyes flicker with confusion as he shifts in the bed, wincing at the movement. "James?" he questions.
You quickly correct yourself. "Logan."
His hand instinctively goes to his chest, fingers brushing against his side as if testing for wounds that arenât there anymore. âWhat is this place?â he asks again.Â
âYouâre at the X-Mansion,â you explain. âYou were... rescued. We brought you here to heal.â
âRescued.â he repeats dryly. âFrom what?â
You hesitate, unsure how much to tell him. How do you explain everythingâthe horrors of Weapon X, the brutal experiments, the torture that nearly destroyed him? You canât even bring yourself to speak the full truth, not yet.Â
âYou were taken,â you say carefully. âBy people who wanted to use you for something terrible. But we got to you before they could. Youâre safe now.â
Logan lets out a short, bitter laugh, though thereâs no humour in it. âSafe,â he mutters, his voice low and sarcastic. âRight.â He rubs a hand across his face.
âWhy do I feel like Iâm missing somethinâ?â he mutters, his irritation growing. âLike... like thereâs something important I should remember.â
Swallowing hard, your heart twists at his words. He is missing something. But you wonât tell him that now. Heâs already grappling with so much, and the last thing he needs is the weight of your shared past thrust upon him before heâs ready.
âDonât worry about it.â Your voice is gentle, coaxing. âItâs... normal to feel confused right now.â
Frowning, he runs a hand through his hair. âLike Iâm supposed to believe that.â
âI know itâs hard to understand,â you say softly. âBut itâll get better. Youâll remember in time.â
He doesnât respond right away, his gaze drifting toward the ceiling as if heâs searching for answers that arenât there. After a moment, he sighs, his eyes returning to yours. âAlright. Who are you, really?â he asks. âWhy do I feel like I should know you?â
Because we grew up together.Â
Because we were everything to each other.Â
Because you were the one person I never stopped loving.Â
âJust focus on resting,â you say, forcing a soft smile.Â
He studies you briefly, as if trying to figure out whether or not to trust you. Then finally, he nods, thought you can tell heâs still wary âYeah... okay.â
The awkward silence returns.Â
âI should go,â you murmur, standing abruptly. The chair scrapes against the floor, the sound jarring in the quiet room. âYou need rest.â
He doesnât stop you, doesnât ask you to stay. He just watches as you turn toward the door, and leave.
Your chest tightens painfully as you walk out of the room, the familiar ache of loss settling in once more. Itâs worse this time, thoughâworse because heâs alive, and yet, in every way that matters, heâs gone.
You leave the room in a daze, your mind swirling with a storm of emotions. Your feet carry you down the hall, and before you realize whatâs happening, you find yourself in the washroom.Â
The moment the door clicks shut, your stomach lurches. You barely make it a toilet before youâre retching. Tears sting your eyes, and you brace yourself against the cold porcelain, gasping for breath as your body shakes with sobs.
Standing up and flushing, you walk over to the sink, and press your forehead against the mirror. How did it come to this? You found him, after all these years, but the person in that bed isnât the Loganâit isnât the Jamesâyou once knew.Â
Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you close your eyes, taking a deep breath as you try to pull yourself together. It's not the time to breakdown, you think, and after splashing some water on your face, you turn toward the exit.
Pushing open the door, youâre met with the familiar gaze of Ororo. She stands in the hallway, her white hair cascading down her shoulders, her eyes filled with something that feels like both understanding and pity.
Your eyes widen, caught off guard, not expecting to see anyone, least of all her.
âI saw you come in here,â she whispers empathetically, âbut thought you might need a moment.â
You pause, trying to blink away the redness in your eyes, trying to pretend youâre stronger than you feel. But she sees through it. She always has.
âIâm fine,â you say, the words slipping out automatically.
Stepping closer, her gaze softens as she studies your face. âNo,â she disagrees, âyouâre not.â
The vulnerability youâve been trying to keep at bay rushes forward again, threatening to swallow you whole. You open your mouth to argue, to brush it off, but the moment you meet her eyes, the words die in your throat. The pity, the compassionâitâs too much.
Silently, she reaches out, her hand resting lightly on your arm. Itâs a small gesture, but it feels grounding.
âI saw him,â you whisper, your voice trembling. âHe doesnât remember me.â
âI know,â she says quietly. âIâm so sorry.âÂ
â
The next few days are a blur. You keep yourself busyâtoo busyâhoping that constant movement will keep the gnawing ache at bay. If you let yourself stop, if you let yourself think about whatâs happened, the hurt would consume you, so you donât stop.
Most of your time is spent in your room or the garden, taking refuge in the places where you can hide from everything, everyone.
Sometimes, you train, pushing your body past its limits in a desperate attempt to silence your thoughts. Every hit you land, every punch you throw, never feels like enough.
Itâs easier this way, you tell yourself. Easier to avoid him, to pretend he never came back into your life. Because the alternativeâwatching him live here, knowing he doesnât remember you, doesnât understand what you once sharedâthatâs too painful.
Youâd rather pretend heâs still a memory than face the reality that the man you love is here, but not really.
When you walk through the mansion, you see him from afar. You canât help but notice how heâs begun to soften around the others, how the confused man who woke up in that bed is slowly adjusting to life at the mansion. He has daily appointments with Charles, who you imagine is sifting through his mind, doing his very best to retrieve something, anything.
While there is still a distance in his eyes, still a guarded edge to him, but you can see the small shiftsâthe way he listens when someone speaks, the faintest hint of a smile when Hank tries to crack a joke.
And sometimes, your eyes meet.
From across the room, youâll catch him watching you. In those moments, your heart skips a beat, wondering if thereâs a reason why heâs zeroed in on you specifically, but then he looks away, and it passes. You never approach him, never ask him how heâs feeling or if heâs starting to remember anything. Youâre too afraid of the answer.
One night, you sit in the garden, letting the soft breeze play with your hair, eyes closed.Â
âMind if I sit here?â
The voice startles you, pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyelids flutter, and as you turn, your heart jolts upon seeing Logan standing at above you. And momentarily, itâs like youâre teenagers againâsneaking out at night into the gardens to talk.Â
âSure,â you nod, gently patting the space beside you, as you always did.Â
He steps closer and sits down, though not without leaving a small space between the two of you. âIâve been seeing you around,â he says after a beat.. He doesnât look at you, his gaze focused on the flowers in front of him. âBut... youâve been avoidinâ me, havenât you?â
A small laugh escapes you, bitter and self-deprecating. âYou noticed, huh?â
âYeah, not much gets past me. Even that one guyâs attempts at being a leader.â
Despite yourself, you snort. âScott?â
He chuckles, shaking his head. âHeâs too easy. Guy looks like a human stoplight with those stupid glasses.â
You bite back a snicker, feeling like a teenager again. The banter, the lighthearted teasingâit makes it seem like maybe, just maybe, thereâs still something left of the man you knew.
He turns his head slightly, his expression growing more serious. âYou know, Iâve been trying to figure it out,â he says, quieter now. âWhy it feels like somethingâs missing. Every time I see you... I know youâre related to it.â
Shifting a little to look at him, you take in the way his facial hair is a little bit more kempt, how he still has his hair tufts. You miss him, and heâs right here with you.Â
âI... thought it would be easier,â you admit, staring down at your hands. âFor both of us. If I kept my distance. I didnât want to add to your stress.â
Frowning, his brows furrow as he processes your words. âAdd to it? How?â
âBecause you donât remember me,â you say softly. âAnd I didnât want to be a reminder of something you canât recall.â
He stares at you for a long moment. Then, âyouâre right. I donât remember everything,â he says slowly, âbut I know thereâs something about you.â
You nod, your throat tight, but you donât push him. You know itâs only a matter of time before the pieces fall into place. âYouâll remember,â you whisper. âI know it.â
He grunts. âI donât want you to keep your distance.â
âI wonât. Not anymore.â The idea of him wanting to spend more time with you, fills you with joy.
â
For the next few weeks, it becomes a quiet routineâthe nightly conversations in the garden. Itâs like slipping into an old rhythm, the two of you always finding a way to gravitate toward each other once the sun goes down. You talk about small things, but it's never too heavy. Sometimes he teases you, and you tease him back, exchanging sarcastic quips. Nothing and everything has changed at the same time.
Youâve started training together too, spending more and more time together each day. Itâs almost as if thereâs a magnet between you that not even time could weaken.
This night, youâre in the gym together on the sparring mat. Itâs the usual scenario playing outâdodging, blocking, throwing punches. Heâs fast and strong. And it means a lot to see you see him finally embrace his mutant powers and use them, rather than try to hide and run.Â
Youâre both breathing hard, the exertion pushing your bodies to their limits. You land a solid kick to his side, and he grunts, stepping back for a moment. Without warning, his claws extend, and your gaze locks in on them.
Of course you know about the adamantium, but seeing it like this, so up close, itâs different.Â
âWhat?â Logan asks, noticing your sudden stillness. His brow furrows, and he glances down at his claws, as if heâs only just realizing theyâre out. âWhat are you staring at?â
âDoes it hurt?â you question, clearing your throat. âWhen they come out?â
He tilts his head, his gaze flicking between you and his claws. âEverytimeâ he sighs. âBut not as much as the old ones.â
Your eyes snap up from his claws to meet his. â... What?â you ask. The old ones?
âThey were bone,â he continues, âHurt like a bitch.â
Your heart starts pounding in your chest. Could this be it? Could he be remembering?
Stepping closer, your voice trembles slightly as you push for more. âWhat else do you remember?â
His eyes widen, and then he blinks, his stare glazing over for a second, like heâs trying to chase down a memory thatâs just out of reach.
âI⌠I donât know,â he admits with a bit of frustration. His claws retract, his hand flexing unconsciously as he stares at the empty space where the blades once were. âItâs all bits and pieces. I get these flashes, but nothing sticks. Charles said... he said the barriers in my mind are cominâ down, but itâs slow. Like finding a damn needle in a haystack.â
But the fact that he remembers even a sliver, is enough to fill you with hope.
â
This continues, the small fragments of memories coming back to him. They come unexpectedly, at random times in the day. Itâs never anything big, never the full flood of memories youâre hoping for, but each time it happens, it feels like another piece of the puzzle falling into place.
You suggest a walk one afternoon. The mansion has felt a little too closed in lately, and you think maybe the fresh air might help clear his mind. Together, you wander along a little pathway that connects the mansion to a nearby river, the sound of the water in the distance a soothing backdrop as you walk side by side. Heâs quiet, more so than usual, and as you glance at him, you notice his expression has grown distant.
âLogan?â you ask softly, nudging his arm. âWhatâs on your mind?â
He doesnât answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. His brow is furrowed, like heâs trying to fit together pieces of a puzzle, his thoughts distant, swirling. âI rememberâŚâ he starts, his voice quiet, as if heâs speaking more to himself than to you.
Your fingers begin to twitch at your side. Every time he remembers something, it feels like youâre standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to see if heâll fall into the past, if this will be the moment he remembers it all.
âA cabin,â he says finally, his voice rough but certain. âThere was a shack. In a small town. I used to stay there.â
You nod, urging him to continue, anticipated building within your chest. âGo on.â
âIt was small. Cold most of the time. But I donât think I cared.â He lets a chuckle. âI liked it. Felt... peaceful.â
You canât help but smile a little at the memories heâs bringing up. His steps falter, and he stops in the middle of the path, turning to look at you. âMining,â he mutters, as if the word itself is triggering something. âI remember mining.â
âThatâs good,â you say. âIâm happy for you.â
â
The memories keep coming.
Youâre in the mansion, passing through one of the long hallways together on your way to eat, when he suddenly stops, his hand reaching out to steady himself against the wall. You turn, concern flooding through you. âAre you okay? What is it?â
He frowns, his eyes narrowing as if heâs trying to force something into focus. âThere was a girl.â
âA girl?â you repeat, not wanting to push him but unable to stop the question from spilling out.
âYeah,â he confirms. âIn a big houseâlike a mansion, I think. We'd play together. She was... she was always following me around. Always gettinâ into trouble.â
You know exactly who heâs talking about.
âDo you remember her name?âÂ
Shaking his head, you can see the frustration etched onto his face. âNo. But she must have been important, I can feel it.â
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you try to hold yourself together. It was me, you want to say. That little girl was me.
âItâs okay,â you say instead, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. âYouâll remember. Youâre already so close.â
He looks at you then, his eyes searching yours for somethingâanswers, reassurance. Once a few seconds pass, he sighs and shakes his head.
âI donât know how you put up with this,â he grumbles lowly. âWith me.â
âBecause I know you,â you whisper back.Â
To have a chance at another lifetime with him, youâd put up with anything.Â
â
Heâs busy with Jean and Charles this morning, the duo having started to work together last week, trying to finally break down the wall stopping Logan from recovering his memories. With nothing else to occupy you, youâve retreated to the mansionâs library, seeking solace in the endless rows of books. The familiar smell of paper and ink is comforting, and for a while, you manage to lose yourself in the words on the page.Â
Youâre curled up in one of the oversized armchairs, a book resting in your lap, when your ears pick up the sound of heavy footstepsâfast, purposeful, ringing out through the mansionâs quiet halls.
Concern rises in your chest. Those footsteps arenât casual; someone is rushing, and youâve been around long enough to know that in here, that usually means somethingâs wrong.
Setting the book down on the small table beside you, you stand and head toward the entrance of the library. The sound grows louder, the footsteps coming closer, and just as you reach the doorway, you collide with a solid wall of muscle.
"Hoâholy shâ" you gasp, stumbling back, startled. Your hands fly to steady yourself, and you look up, wide-eyed, to see Logan standing there. "Logan, you scared mâ"
âJames.â
You still.Â
"What?" you whisper, your mind racing as you stare at him. His face is differentânot just the usual irritated-by-himself expression heâs been wearing lately, but something else. Thereâs a certainty in his eyes, relief and maybe evenâ
âMy name is James,â he repeats. âI was born in Alberta. We grew up together. I... I killed my father.â His voice falters slightly at that, but he pushes through, his gaze locked on yours, unwavering. âYou were the little girl in the mansion. Youâve always been there. And Iââ His eyes brim with emotion. âI love you.â
The words slam into you, leaving you breathless. You can feel the blood drain from your face, your heart jumping so hard it feels like it might burst. âYou... you remember?â Youâre barely able to get the words out.
LoganâJamesâstares at you. âI remember everything.â
A sob escapes your throat, and you throw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest as the floodgates open. His arms come around you immediately, holding you tight, his chin resting on the top of your head.
âIâm sorry,â he murmurs. âIâm so damn sorry. I should have never left. I should have gone back to find you.â
You shake your head, tears soaking into his shirt. âIt doesnât matter,â your voice breaks. âNone of that matters anymore. Weâre together now. Thatâs all I care about.â
He pulls back slightly, just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that wonât stop falling. Thereâs so much loveâso much everythingâin his eyes, your knees nearly buckle. All you do is hold on to him, as tightly as you can, afraid that if you let go, this moment will slip away.
But it wonât, because heâs really here, he remembers, and he still loves you.
For what feels like hours, you stand there in the hallway, wrapped in each otherâs arms. Eventually, you take a small step back, unwrapping your arms and instead grabbing his hands, squeezing them. âWe have a lot to talk about.â
He squeezes your hands back in return. âYeah, we do.â
â
You sniffle, wiping away the last of your tears as you lie in bed with him, pressed so close it feels like youâre trying to merge into one person. His warmth surrounds you, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, hands drawing small circles. Itâs like all the years apart never happened, like youâre finally back where youâre meant to be.
âSo, what made it all come back to you?â you ask softly, your voice a bit hoarsefrom all the crying youâve done in the last hour.
James takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. âI guess having two strong telepaths digginâ around in your mind will do the trick,â he responds. âShit was brutal, but... worth it.â
Tilting his head down, he presses a small kiss to your temple. If even possible, you nestle yourself further into his hold.Â
âI thought Iâd lost you forever,â you whisper. âAll those years... I never thought Iâd see you again.â
âSame for me. Thought I lost you too,â James murmurs, his hand running gently up and down your back. âAfter I left the cabin, I tried to forget. Tried to convince myself you were better off without me, but...â He trails off. âI was wrongâa coward. I shouldnât have been runninâ away. Especially from you.â
You look up at him, your eyes searching his. âWhat did you do all those years? Where did you go?â
He lets out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes. âI wandered. For a long time, I didnât stay in one place. Fought when I had to, drank when I couldnât forget. Got into a lot of trouble.â He grimaces slightly.Â
You frown. âWhat kind of trouble?â
âThe kind where people like me arenât supposed to be walking free,â he remarks bitterly. âI gave into the monster I thought I was.â
His words sink in, and you can feel the toll those years took on him, the way they left him scarred, not just physically, but emotionally. âIt must have been so hard,â you whisper, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. âLiving like that, without... anyone.â
Leaning into your touch, âYeah,â he admits. âIt was. But... I didnât know how to live any other way. Not after everything that happened.â
Thereâs a long pause, the two of you lying there, bodies tangled together as you both process the weight of whatâs been lost and whatâs been found. Then, he kisses the inside of your hand, looking at you with a faint, curious smile.
âWhat about you?â he asks softly, tugging you closer. âWhen did you... ya know, find out you were a mutant?â
The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you donât know how to respond. Youâve never really talked about that part of your life to anyone, at least not in detail.Â
âI didnât know for about a year,â you begin. âAfter you left, I was... lost. And then one day... I punched a tree.â
James raises an eyebrow, clearly not expecting that. âA tree?â
You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the seriousness of the memory. âYeah. I was angryâangry at everything. And when I punched it... the damn thing exploded.â
He stares at you for a moment, processing your words. Then, a slow, amused grin spreads across his face. âExploded, huh? Guess thatâs one way to find out youâre not normal.â
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. âYeah, it wasnât exactly subtle.â
His smile fades slightly. âWhat did you do after that?â
Taking a deep breath, you let the memories of those early days as a mutant flood back. âI tried to keep it hidden for a while. Didnât really know what to do with it. But then... the wars started.â
Eyes narrowing, his expression changes instantly. âThe wars?â
Nodding, you continue. âYeah, the First and Second. I volunteered as a nurse. I figured if I could use my powers to help people, then maybe I could make up for everything I lost. I moved station to station, healing soldiers. I couldnât save everyone, but I tried.â
Heâs momentarily quiet, gaze never leaving yours, even as he processes what youâre telling him. Then, slowly, his features shift into disbelief.
âYou were on the frontlines?â His voice low, almost incredulous. He reaches out to brush a few strands of hair out of your face.Â
âYeah. I wanted to make a difference.â
Letting out a sharp breath, James sits up slightly in bed as he stares at you. âHoly shit,â he mutters. âI fought in those wars, too. In the trenches.â
Youâre speechless, and the realization washes over you slowly. The whisperings youâd heard from the troops, the rumours youâd chalked up to be nothing more than drunken tales, suddenly come flooding back. A man who couldnât be killed, who healed from every injury, who fought with claws that could tear through anything.
It was him.
It was always him.
âOh my god,â you breathe. âSo it was trueâŚall those rumours about the man who couldnât die... that was you.â
âYeah,â he says quietly. âGuess it was.â
All those years, all those battles... and you were both there, so close, yet so far apart.Â
âWe were so close,â you say, moving forward in to give him a kiss. âAnd we didnât even know it.â
He kisses you back, his grip on you tightening. Then, when you pull away, he sighs, leaning back against the headboard. âItâs all so different now,â he begins gruffly. âYouâre not the little maid in training anymore, runninâ around that mansion, worried about getting caughtâ
You smile faintly at the memories of your younger selves, the girl you used to be, and the boy who was so much more to you than just a young lord.Â
âAnd youâre not sir James Howlett or whateverâLordâanymoreâ you tease. âYouâve come a long way from the boy who used to sulk in the garden because he had to attend another dinner party.â
He lets out a noise that sounds like a mix between a huff and a laugh âYeah,â he agrees. âThat feels like a lifetime ago. And in a way, I guess it was.â
While neither of you are the same people you once were, in this moment, you can feel that connectionâthe one that has always been there.
âIâve thought about you every day,â he speaks up again. âAll those years.â
âJamesâŚâ
âI love you,â he confesses. âAnd Iâve loved you my whole life. Before we ran away, after I left, even after I thought you were gone... I couldnât forget. Didnât want to.â He sucks in a harsh breath, grabbing your hand once more. âI shouldnât have left. I should have stayed. We couldâve figured it out together, but I was so... so damn scared. I thought if I stayed, Iâd only hurt you.â
You feel tears welling up in your eyes again. âYou did what you thought was right,â you whisper, intertwining your fingers. âYou were scared, and so was I.â
âI wish I could take it all back,â he says, regret bleeding into his tone. âI wish I couldâve been there for you... We couldâve had so many more years together.â
âWe have time now,â you say softly, assuring him. âWe have all the time in the world to make up for it.â
He doesnât respond verbally, but rather he edges forward, brushing his lips softly against yours. âI love you,â he murmurs before closing the gap completely, kissing you passionately.
You smile against his lips, because while he may be known as logan, or Wolverine, heâs still James.
Your James.Â
----
A/N: I'm going to have to either write some crazy smut or excessive fluff now because this took it out of me LOL also I hope none of you got confused with the name switching! Thank you so much for reading <3
#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett#logan x reader#logan howlett fic#x men#wolverine#deadpool movie#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x reader#deadpool 3#hugh jackman#logan howlett angst#x men origins: wolverine#wolverine angst#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#angst#mcu#marvel fanfiction#james logan howlett
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I saw an astronaut walking on the side of the road today, which is the kind of thing my brain will placidly accept at first, only to go "Wait, an astronaut" a minute later once I'm done with my previous train of thought. By then I felt like it might be too late to stop my car, but I ended up stopping anyway because I didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering.
I waited for the astronaut to catch up with me since they were going in my direction, but they didn't. Eventually I got out of the car and retraced my steps, and after a bend in the road when I saw no one walking towards me I decided the visitor must have gone back to their spacecraft and I would never get an explanation for thisâand then in the distance I caught a glimpse of the white space suit disappearing into the forest.
I managed to catch up with them and they turned out to be a distant neighbour of mine (let's call her M.), and what looked like a space suit when I was driving by was a beekeeper's outfit! (Sorry for the pointless suspense but I was taking you on the same little journey my brain went through.) M. was tickled when she learnt that I mistook her for an astronautâshe told me she'd borrowed her husband's too-big shoes which made her drag her feet, hence why she looked like she was having trouble readjusting to Earth's gravity.
Then she said that one of her hives had swarmed, and she was pretty sure she knew where the swarm was. I had no idea how swarming worked so as we walked in the woods she explained that when a hive becomes too crowded, the queen will get replaced by a new one, and the old queen will leave along with half of the bees. After this split, the swarm will cluster somewhere nearby and wait while scout bees fly away in search of a new hive location. "That's when you have to catch themâif you can find the swarm. But here it is!"
I wasn't expecting quite so many bees!! I'm pretty scared of all flying creatures so allow me to pat myself on the back for what came nextâI thought I was about to learn how to catch a swarm from a prudent distance, but M. asked if I could give her a hand, seeing as her husband was supposed to be here to help but clearly wasn't.
The first step of catching a swarm was spraying the bees with sugar water, and I was glad not to be asked to help with that, as it seemed like something that could make bees angry. ("On the contrary, it makes them less agitated!" I was told, but that remained to be seen.) Step 2 was pulling on a rope tied to the tree branch in order to lower the swarm into the new hive, and that was the job I was recruited for. The rope was long enough that I could stand several metres away to pull on it, but my role in this swarm-catching business was still all too clear to any angry bee looking for someone to blame.
I remembered reading that bees can sense the electric field of flowers, so I thought there was no way they wouldn't sense the staticky nervousness coming from the rope-puller, but thankfully they completely ignored me.
M. was offering one fun fact about bees after the other, in a very relaxed voice, which was very interesting and very soothing for both me and the bees. She said this particular colony was very sweet ("some bee colonies are meaner than others?" "yes of course"), and that swarming usually happens a bit earlier in the year "but it's been raining so much lately, the bees had to postpone all their activities, just like us" and also "swarming involves quite a bit of planning ahead of time; for example worker bees have to put the queen on a diet so she won't be too fat to fly. Did you know that?" I did not!
Unfortunately our first attempt to catch the swarm failed. The bees entered the hive, had a quick look around their new home, then left in disgust and formed a thick, angry, buzzing cloud over our heads, while I tried to think nothing but bee-loving thoughts to make my electric field harmless and friendly.
Then one after the other all the bees returned to the exact same spot on the branch where we'd first found them. ("Because it smells like the queen" said M.) We examined the near-empty hive and found that a mouse had made a nest in there! She was no longer here but the traces of her passage were evident (some of the comb was very nibbled.)
As we were removing the supplies brought in by the mouse (sticks, hay), M.'s husband joined us and he had brought a spray bottle containing some sort of bee-attracting liquid (pheromones?) (I didn't have a close look at the bottle because I made sure to stay far away from the bee-attracting liquid, while he sprayed it inside the hive.)
He had also brought a white sheet which he spread under the tree, explaining that the bees will want to get away from the bright surface and look for darkness, thus hopefully getting inside the box. Another thing I learnt is that once the queen enters the hive, the nearest worker bees will spread the message by turning round and fluttering their wings to send a chemical signal in specific directions, which will be picked up by other bees farther away; at strategic intervals some bees will light the beacons of Gondor turn round and fan their wings to relay this scent-message until the entire colony is informed of the queen's new location.
We were more successful the second time around! This time the bees who went in didn't immediately get out again to return to their branch. Well I say "we" but I didn't volunteer to pull on the rope again, so I can't claim any role in this victory. But my personal victory was that I stood quite a bit nearer this time so I could watch everything closely, and I felt more intrigued than nervous. Bees were constantly zipping past me but it had become clear that my electric field was pure and they bore me no ill will. I was always fond of bees from afar and happy to see them do their thing in flowers in the spring, but today's adventure got me interested in their daily life as well, so I think I'll read some books about bees this summer!
I was reading last month about the morality of termite colonies (Maeterlinck's La vie des termites) and I had a feeling this man must have written some poetic stuff about bees as wellâand he did. Here's a translated excerpt from his book "La vie des abeilles" :)
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cherry trees | S.R.
You find Spencer reading some... interesting poetry.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: breeding kink, unprotected piv sex, mentions of ovulation, pregnancy, fingering, d/s dynamic if you squint, nipple play, mating press, spencer reads erotic poetry, aftercare word count: 3.07k a/n: i have no explanation for myself. the poetry in this is all neruda, if you're interested in it. also this is only one interpretation of that poem but it worked for the plot. i still think im bad at writing smut but i liked this idea so much that i had to.
Peering over at your boyfriend from the kitchen, you filled your glasses with the wine that Rossi had gifted you and returned to Spencer in the living room. His nose was buried in a book, which wasnât new in the slightest. What piqued your interest was the fact that he had covered the book he was reading. Both the front and back covers had been disguised with brown paper, preventing you from reading the title of the book.
You set his wine glass on his coaster before sitting down next to him, keeping your glass in your hands. âWhat are you reading?â You asked quietly as you tucked your feet beneath you.
âPoems,â he answered, âbe done in a minute.â He adjusted his hands so that he was holding the book with one hand and resting the other hand on your thigh, absentmindedly rubbing your bare skin with the pad of his thumb.
Surprisingly enough, Spencer was a touchy guy for someone who hated germs, but you supposed he trusted you enough. You lived together, you werenât married, but the two of you never seemed bothered by that fact. âTake your time,â you responded, Spencer reading poetry took about as long as it took you to look through a pamphlet.
He said nothing in response, completely enthralled in the book.
Standing up, you let his hand fall from your thigh, âIâm going to go change,â you said, leaning over and kissing the top of his head, noting the way he hid the pages of the book from your view.
Shedding your work clothes, you changed into pajamas, throwing a sweatshirt over your tank top before returning to the living room.
Spencer had shifted positions on the couch, âAre you alright?â You asked him, hesitantly walking over to him. From the looks of it, he was on the same page he was on when you left.
He didnât answer, prompting you to narrow your eyes, and reached over and plucked the book from his hands, âHey!â He said reaching out for the book, but you lifted it just barely out of his reach, and he didnât seem like he wanted to stand. Instead, he reached out for you, pulling you down onto his lap so that your legs were on either side of his lap.
You felt it before you saw it. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his hard cock pressing into your core, allowing your gaze to flicker up to his book that you were still holding. âSpencer, are you reading smut?â You asked, amusement clear in your voice.
âTechnically, theyâre called erotic poems,â he answered very matter-of-factly.
Grinning, you opened the book, âOh, what a gentleman, reading his porn instead of watching it.â Briefly, you looked at the book, ââOf everything I have seen, itâs you I want to go on seeingâ-â
Spencer squeezed your waist, âWhat will it take for you to stop?â
ââOf everything Iâve touched, itâs your flesh I want to go on touching,ââ you continued anyway, leaning over his shoulder so you continue reading the book. Spencer took the opportunity to press gentle kisses up the side of your neck before focusing on the soft spot behind your ear, eliciting a soft moan from you.
You were well aware of the effect you were having on your boyfriend, feeling his dick twitch beneath you as you read to him.
Attempting to ignore the fact that Spencer had slipped his hands underneath your sweatshirt, touching your bare skin only at the sliver of skin between your tank top and your shorts. ââI love your orange laughter. I am moved by the sight of you sleeping.ââ You read softly.
âCan I have my book back now?â He asked, his voice was an octave lower and his grip on your waist tightened, prompting you to grind your hips into him, âfuck, baby.â
Once Spencer started cursing, you were already past the point of no return. âWhat in this book got you so hard, huh? What were you thinking about doing to me?â You pulled away slightly and looked at him, his pupils dilated, and lips parted. ââLicense my roving hands, and let them go before, behind, above, below.ââ
Spencer groaned and you knew you had hit your mark, he reached behind his head, trying to grab the book from your hands, but you stood up and backed away from him. âStop there, baby. Okay?â He pleaded, causing you to flip the page.
ââI will bring you flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses,â You whispered, reading intently from the page. You could see why Spencer was so enamored with the words, you found yourself falling into the same rabbit hole. âIs this about...?â You started, but you couldnât finish it.
He sighed exasperatedly, âI will do anything for you to forget I was interested in this.â He said, looking at you from the other side of the coffee table.
Intently, you eyed the next line in the poem, I want to do with you what Spring does with the cherry trees. âIs this what you want?â You asked him in earnest, âDo you want to do with me what the Spring does with the cherry trees?â You were breathing heavily as he scrambled to stand up. Walking backward away from him, you lifted the book back up and turned to the next page, ââI have scarcely left you, when you go in me, crystalline, or trembling, or uneasy, wounded by me, or overwhelmed with love, as when your eyesâŚââ you gasped as the book was swiftly knocked to the ground.
Backed into the wall, your gaze narrowed as Spencer caged you against the wall with one arm on either side of you. âI asked you to stop reading,â he murmured, ducking his head to attach his lips to your neck, following the column of your throat.
âIf you wanted to knock me up so badly, all you needed to do was ask,â you spoke to him lowly, a small, throaty noise escaping your lips as his hands moved to creep up your sweatshirt.
Spencer hummed before pulling away from you just enough to pull the extra fabric over your head, placing his lips on yours as soon as he could. Your hands frantically tried to undo his tie, pulling on the silky fabric before tossing it to the floor and starting to work on the buttons of his shirt. âNeedy,â he teased as he pulled away slightly to help you with his shirt.
You leaned back up to kiss him once his shirt was off, shuddering as his hand slid down your front, slipping underneath the waistband of your shorts and rubbing you over your panties, âFuck, Spence.â
Grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself upright, he pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side and circled your entrance with one finger at a tantalizingly slow pace. âYouâre so wet,â he whispered, pressing his finger into your wet hole. âIf you wanted me to knock you up so badly, you shouldâve just asked,â he taunted.
Your walls clenched around his finger; it wasnât enough â you needed more of him. He was turning this into a battle of wills, and your resolve was fading fast. Spencer tracked your cycle better than you did, but you did know you were ovulating. He knew it too.
âI want to hear you ask,â he said, slowly withdrawing his finger from your cunt before pushing two back in.
A small whimper slipped through your mouth, âSpence, âm ovulating,â you breathed, gasping for air as he thrust his fingers into you. You leaned your head forward onto him, landing on his bare chest.
âWhy do you think I was reading those poems?â He asked.
Groaning, you muffled your moans in his chest, âYou want to breed me? You want to-â Your voice broke off into a yelp as he firmly pressed his thumb against your clit. âDo what the Spring does to the cherry trees. Fuck me, please. Come in me,â you begged mindlessly, any remaining willpower fading away as your orgasm built.
You whimpered as Spencer withdrew his fingers from your pussy. âPoor baby,â he whispered, âyou need to be bred that badly?â
âYes,â you answered breathlessly, grinning as Spencer crouched down to place his hands on the backs of your thighs, lifting your feet from the ground to move you to your bedroom.
He sat you down gently on the edge of the bed, pulling away from you and tugging your tank top over your head. You took the initiative to shuffle further onto the bed, watching intently as Spencer unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor, leaving him in only his boxers as he clambered onto the bed and hovered over you.
Lifting your head up slightly, you kissed him. It was gentle at first, but lust took over and the two of you grew frantic. Spencer moved his head, leaving big wet kisses down your neck before turning his attention to your breasts. Enveloping your peaked nipple in his mouth, he gently nipped at it with his teeth as his other hand rose to your unattended breast, pinching the small bud with his index finger and thumb.
Your hips inadvertently bucked up, just for them to be pushed back down by Spencerâs as he expertly continues his ministrations on your chest. It took all of your remaining focus to grind up into him, desperate for some kind of friction.
Spencer pulled his mouth from your breast and looked at you, holding your gaze as he tugged at your panties and pulled them off, carefully guiding your legs as he did so. âYouâre so wet for me, baby,â he whispered. âYouâve got that little glint in your eye, and I havenât even fucked you yet.â
âYou have such a dirty mouth,â you tell him, still trying to steady your breathing. You looked down at him, kneeling between your legs, his brown eyes were completely lust-blown. You gasped as your boyfriend returned his fingers to your core, âPlease.â
He hummed in response, slipping two fingers into your dripping heat as he watched your every reaction. Then, as if you had forgotten his intentions, he placed a hand on your abdomen and he started thrusting his fingers in and out of you, eliciting a moan from your lips.
Turning your head into the pillows, you reached around for something â anything â to grab as the orgasm you had been chasing all night finally approached. âBabe⌠comeâŚâ You managed to squeak out as your walls clenched around his fingers.
âCome for me, come on my fingers, baby,â he encouraged the climax out of you, and you knew he relished the way your eyes rolled back and your back arched off of the sheets. âGood girl,â he praised you softly, working you through your orgasm, his fingers moving at a slower pace.
Once you caught your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows, smiling dazedly at him. You reached out and pawed at his boxers, âOff, please.â You said simply, your grin expanding as he maneuvered and removed the last remaining layer.
His pink cock stood at attention before you and you found yourself subconsciously biting your lip at the sight of it. âTell me what you want,â he spoke lowly, reaching over to the other side of the bed and grabbing a pillow, lifting your hips off of the mattress and placing the pillow beneath them.
Your cheeks flushed, âWant you to fuck me.â
âIs that all?â He asked, raising his eyebrows at you suspiciously as he reached down to your cunt, gathering your slick on his fingers and using it to pump his cock.
Any and all resolve had gone completely out the window as you watched his hand move up and down his length, âWant you to breed me.â You told him earnestly, âGet me pregnant, put a baby in me. I-â You paused for a moment, meeting his eyes carefully, âI want to have a baby with you, Spencer.â
That seemed to be enough for him as Spencer gently rubbed the tip up and down your slit before gently pushing in. âYouâre so perfect,â he whispered to you softly, âlike you were made for me.â
Once he had wholly sheathed himself inside of you, he gave you a moment to adjust and you savored the way you throbbed around him. âMove,â you breathed.
Swiftly, he hooked his arms beneath your knees and leaned over you, effectively folding you in half and pressing his cock impossibly deep into your cunt. Slowly, he pulled out halfway before pushing his hips back into yours, finding a rhythm.
âYouâre so deep,â you whimpered. It was some inexplicable feeling; you could feel him everywhere. Inhaling sharply when he pulled out almost entirely before snapping them back into you, continuing that quick pace. âHarder,â you murmured, the only confirmation that he had heard you being the fact that he had begun pounding into you.
He let out a moan and you clenched around him in an attempt to encourage him to be vocal, âFuck, Iâm gonna come.â He continued his pace, lifting himself up so that he could run his hand down your body, âYouâll be so pretty pregnant with our baby.â He dropped one of your legs, opening your core ever so slightly more.
Your hips lifted up to meet his as he massaged one of your breasts with his free hand, âCome in me, make me a mommy,â you whispered, getting closer to your own orgasm as well.
Spencerâs hand dropped to your clit, rubbing small circles as he continued ruining your pussy. His rhythm staggered slightly, and his head dropped to the crook of your neck, groaning into your sweaty skin as he spilled his seed into you.
The heat of his cum in you hurtled you toward your second orgasm, bringing your hand to your mouth and biting the knuckle of your index finger as you came. You felt your tunnel spasming around Spencerâs now half-hard cock, unable to control any of it as your vision spun slightly.
âAre you okay?â Spencer asked softly, pressing gentle kisses to your neck as he stayed still, effectively keeping his seed inside of you.
You nodded slowly, still trying to catch your breath.
He lifted himself up slightly, âWords, please.â He whispered to you, reaching up and brushing a strand of hair from your face.
Nodding again, you took a deep breath, âIâm good. Forgot to breathe.â Your voice was quiet as you reached your arms around Spencer, the aftershocks of your orgasm making their way through you. Softly, you skimmed your palms over Spencerâs back.
âFuck, donât do that,â he said, referring to the inadvertent clenching of his length. âIâll get hard again.â
You hummed as if that wasnât the worst thing in the world, rolling your hips up into his and gasping at the friction on your oversensitive heat. âThen letâs better our odds,â you whispered, resting your head back on the pillows and biting your lip as you noticed Spencer growing hard again while still inside you.
He moved slightly inside of you, pressing himself tightly inside of your pussy, âYouâre going to be the death of me.â He whispered, âwanting me to pump you full of my cum.â
âPlease, Spence,â you whimpered, tears growing in your eyes as he started to fuck you again. âYou feel so good in me,â you told him, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his hips.
Spencerâs pace sped up at your encouragement, completely ravishing you, âgonna make you come around my cock again, gonna breed you.â
You had completely faded away to the point where the only noises in the room were the obscene squelching as Spencer pounded into you and small, hitched breaths that escaped your lips.
The third orgasm took you completely by surprise, you hadnât felt the coil in your abdomen before it took you over and you wrapped your arms around Spencer as he fucked you through it, his pace refusing to cease until his hips stuttered again, his seed painting your insides white.
Your legs dropped from around his hips, falling to the sheets. Gently, Spencer pulled out of you, leaving you whining at both the sensitivity and the empty feeling.
âAre you crying? Did I hurt you?â He asked suddenly, fear filling his voice as he returned from his lust-filled state.
Shaking your head, you swallowed thickly, âJust sensitive. Iâm alright, Spence.â You smiled softly at him, a breathy laugh escaping your lips.
He ruffled your hair affectionately, âWhat are you laughing about, darling?â
âI just understood what the pillow under my hips is functioning for,â you answered. A sort of ramp so that none of his cum spilled out of you â Spencer Reid never did anything halfway. Next to you, he was tugging his shirt back over his head, having already put his boxers back on. âHow long do I have to stay like this?â
Spencer hummed before leaning over and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, âYouâre not trapped there. You can move â as long as youâre feeling okay.â He spoke to you before walking out of the bedroom for just one moment, returning from the kitchen to find you sitting up in bed.
You thanked him as he handed you a glass of water, âI love you,â you whispered, reaching over, and intertwining your fingers.
He smiled at you fondly, âI love you too.â
âI do want it, you know. I know itâs been a while since we talked about a wedding and kids, but I do want that,â you told him candidly. âWith you,â you added, for good measure.
Gently, Spencer sat down on the edge of the mattress, âGood,â he whispered, âbecause thereâs a good chance that I just got you pregnant.â
Your cheeks flushed, âand if you didnât, at least now we know weâll enjoy ourselves trying.â
âAnd in the interim, what do you say we take a shower and then watch that movie?â He asked, smoothing your hair back before cupping your cheek with his hand.
Humming, you leaned into his touch, âA bath?â You negotiated, âIâm not sure I can stay standing for a shower.â
Spencer grinned before leaning forward to kiss you, âIâll go get the water running.â
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#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds smut#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds oneshot#written by margot#mdni#margot after hours
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me and my husband
In which gwayne hightower is overprotective of his pregnant wife, and she begins to worry about the outcome of the birth
PAIRING: gwayne hightower x reader
WARNINGS: angst, anxiety, rough pregnancy, mentions of blood, arguing, fluff ending
WORD COUNT: 3.2k
AN: I read "chose me" by @entitled-fangirl and had to write something similar for gwayne!! this could also be read as part of the come back to me universe, but you do not have to read any other fic to understand the context!!
She watched from the dark hall, her heart fluttering as he leaned back, exposing his neck and upper chest. Pregnancy awoke a dangerous animal inside her, one that needed her husband near her at all times.Â
Instead, he sat in his office.Â
She could not blame him; it was hard work, taking care of Old Town in place of his uncleâs absence. Seeing as his cousin had died recently, Gwayne would stand to inherit the Hightower title, and he all but jumped at the chance to begin his training.
But as of late, it seemed as if she needed him more than he needed her. Mere thoughts seemed to drown out her happiness, every attempt to block them futile. The larger she grew, the closer she got to the inevitable. She cleared her throat, making herself known to her husband.Â
âGwayne?â He looked up, smiling brightly.Â
âMy love! You should be in bed.â He stood up, ushering her over to a cushion. She glared, letting him coddle her for now.
âI am not inept.âÂ
âI know, darling.â He knelt in front of her, kissing her hand gently. âBut you also know that I cannot help but worry for you.â He caressed her stomach, whispering. âAnd how is our little one?âÂ
âYou have no need to worry, I assure you. The Maesters say the babe is perfectly healthy; there is no cause for concern.â
âAnd you?â He kissed her hand once more. âHow do you fare?â
She was taken aback by that question, avoiding the question. âDo not worry about me.âÂ
âThat is my job as your husband.â He walked back to his desk, putting out the flickering candle. âAnd Maesters are not always correct.âÂ
âThat is a rather skeptical view.â She grabbed the handles of the chair, pushing herself up. Gwayne glared.Â
âPlease ask for my aid next time you plan on standing.âÂ
âShall I ask you to help me relieve myself as well?â She glared back. âI love you; you know that I do. But I am not a frail piece of straw. I will not break from a gust of wind.â
âYou are carrying the future heir to the Hightower name, my dear.âÂ
Terms like that make her uneasy. That is all she heard all day. âFuture heir,â âHightower name,â âa boy.â All phrases she had heard over a hundred times. She just wanted a moment of peace where she was not reminded how little she mattered in this situation. A tight smile graced her lips, and she lost all humor in her tone. âAs I am constantly reminded.âÂ
He grabbed her hand, walking slowly out of the office. âAll I ask is that you take care. If not for me, then for the sake of our child.âÂ
âI am careful.â She glared. âYou know this. Itâs not as if I go looking for things to hurt the babe. Do not treat me like a child to be watched over.âÂ
He rubbed a thumb over the back of her hand. âI do not mean to upset you-âÂ
âWell, you have.â She scoffed. âYou have somehow managed to insult my care for your future line and my child in one blow. It is astonishing, truly. I applaud you.âÂ
âYou know that was not my intention.â He shut their bedroom door, removing his shirt. Y/N tried to keep herself from blushing at the sight, but when he looked like that, it was hard to do. He knelt in front of her, holding both of her hands in his. âI am sorry.âÂ
She hummed, walking away and sitting in front of her vanity. âYes, well, I suppose I forgive you.âÂ
He grinned. âI am glad of it.âÂ
The woods were peaceful, a nice retreat from the bustling of Old Town. Her velvet green dress dragging behind her. She hummed, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of the trees swaying. There was a lake nearby that she desperately wanted to swim in, and stare up into the sky of blue. Pushing the tall grass out of her way, the clearing stretched out before her, the lake at the center. She grinned, running down the hill with a newfound joy.
âY/N? Where are you?âÂ
Her smile fell, remembering the whole reason she had even been âallowedâ to go on this excursion. Heâd only let her go if he came along. She sighed, turning around and walking back up the hill. âComing, my love.âÂ
The auburn-haired man smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist. âWhere did you run off to?âÂ
âThe clearing.â She traced shapes on his chest. âI was thinking, perhaps you could join me for a swim. It is a perfect day for it.âÂ
âI-âÂ
âMy lord.â Their guardâs voice echoed through the forest. Y/N groaned, falling against her husbandâs chest. Gwayne kissed the top of her head, smiling sympathetically. âAnother time, I swear to you.â She sighed, nodding. A finger hooked under her chin, his eyes serious. âYou look far too melancholy, my love.âÂ
âWell, perhaps if-âÂ
âMy lord, Iâm sorry, but it is most urgent.âÂ
Gwayne sighed, intertwining his hand with hers. âWhat is it?â
The Maesterâs Wing was dim, with just a few candles keeping light. Gwayne had been summoned to settle a squabble between the townfolk, leaving Y/N to visit the old man herself. She tapped her foot, waiting for the Maester to ask her the questions she dreaded. But those questions never came.Â
âMy lady.âÂ
Y/N smiled, nodding. âMaester Jon, it is wonderful to see you.â She held her stomach. âTell me, any developments my husband or I should be aware of?âÂ
âUnfortunately, yes, my lady.â He sat down. âIt seems, from what we can tell so far, that the birth may result in a breach pregnancy.â Y/Nâs blood ran cold, and she felt her breath catch. âA breach pregnancy may result in a choice needing to be made.â He leaned forward, a sympathetic look on his face. âDo you understand what this means, my lady?âÂ
She nodded, standing up quickly. âI do. Thank you, Maester Jon. I shall relay the news to my lord husband.â
She gave one last look at the dark corner before practically running out of the wing. She burst through the hall doors, dinner in full swing. There sat Gwayne, eyes drooping, visibly exhausted from his duties.Â
Who was she to worry him anymore?
Y/N sat beside her husband, kissing his cheek. âHow was your day, my love?âÂ
âInfinitely better, now that you are here.â He smiled. âHow was the visit?âÂ
She took a large sip of her wine. âWell. All is well.â She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. âI love you.âÂ
He grinned, squeezing back. âI love you much more, my dear.âÂ
If he chose the babe, she knew she would surely die from heartbreak before she bled. She laughed, her eyes watering. âI do not think that is possible.âÂ
Since learning of the news, sheâd been restless, barely sleeping and often waking before the sun. Its bright rays peeked through the curtains, hitting her skin. The warmth soothed her for a moment, but it was just that, a moment.Â
The babe kicked harshly, a quiet groan leaving her. She stared at the ceiling, thinking that in just a few short weeks, sheâd be giving birth in this very bed, staring at the same ceiling.Â
It had always been described to her as horrible and painful beyond recognition. And now that she was carrying an heir, which could possibly be breach, she almost wished she could go back to when they first met and stop herself. When she didnât have to worry about what she did or where she went, she could just be free.Â
He would be pressured into choosing the child over her; she knew this. Sometimes, when the need for an heir was strong, women had been carelessly cut open, being left for dead. It had been done many times, most notably in her lifetime, by King Viserys. Rhaenyra had told her of his actions: how heâd carelessly cut Aemma open, and her mother bled out on the bed without ever getting to hold her babe.Â
She looked over at her husband, fast asleep and dead to the world. His hair covered his eyes; his face was shoved into the pillow haphazardly. She giggled; heâd always slept like there was no tomorrow; it was heartwarming, to say the least. She leaned over, pushing the hair out of his face, kissing his forehead gently.Â
 Rolling to her side, she quietly stood, careful not to wake him. Grabbing her robe from the wardrobe, she made her way to the dining hall, eager to eat something of actual sustenance.Â
After learning of the news, she had picked at her dinner, telling Gwayne it was because the babe made her nauseous.Â
In a way, it had.Â
The smell of bacon and eggs flooded her senses, and she rounded the corner, the doors of the hall wide open. Greeting the occasional servant that passed by, she sat down, piling food onto her plate.Â
âMy lord.â Y/N looked up to see her husband stalking toward her, not even acknowledging the man who had greeted him. Odd, he normally slept as long as he could before starting his day. She smiled brightly. âGood morning, my love.âÂ
He raised his eyebrows. âIs it a good morning?âÂ
âQuite.â She tilted her head. âWhy? Is something amiss?âÂ
He nodded, crossing his arms. âI awoke, and my wife was gone. Imagine my surprise.âÂ
She had felt horrible leaving him, and fighting would only give him more cause to choose the babe. âI am sorry if I scared you.âÂ
âYou should be. And another-â He stopped, shock adorning his features. âYou are sorry?âÂ
âI should have woken you. It was my mistake.â She pat the chair next to her. âPlease, join me.âÂ
âIâm afraid I cannot. I have to meet with the steward this morning.âÂ
Her heart clenched. âI can join you if youâd like-âÂ
âIt is not necessary. I will only bore you.âÂ
She murmured, reaching out to grab his hand. âYou have never bored me.âÂ
âYou are kind, but Iâm sorry, I cannot be distracted.â He grabbed a plate, placing a biscuit and two pieces of bacon haphazardly.
She scoffed, glaring at her lord husband. âI did not realize I was such a distraction."
"Y/N...."
"Perhaps I should stay in my chambers for the remainder of my pregnancy. To keep you from further distraction.â
âThat is not what I meant, and you know it.âÂ
She stood, her eyes cold. âI know nothing of the sort.â She looked over his shoulder, beckoning over a servant. âPlease move my things into the adjoining room. I will be sleeping there-âÂ
Gwayne sat his plate down, looking at the servant. âDo not move her things.â Â
âMy lady?â The young girl looked frightened, scared that she was caught in the middle of their argument.Â
Y/N sighed, dismissing the girl. âIt is alright.â She walked away, yelling back at her husband. âI shall do it myself.âÂ
âY/N!â Gwayne yelled, dropping his plate and running after her. âCome back here at once.âÂ
She ignored him, walking faster. The stairs proved to be a challenge, holding the railing tight. Gwayne placed a hand on her back. âLet me-âÂ
She flinched, pushing him back. âDonât.âÂ
He mumbled. âYou may hate me all you want after this.âÂ
âAfter what-â He hooked his arm under her legs, carrying her up the stairs. âGwayne Hightower! You let me down right now!âÂ
The top of the stairs was a relief; she practically jumped out of his arms. She walked into their joint chambers, filling her trunk with things she would need. Gwayne sighed, watching from the doorway. âWill you please just-âÂ
âI will leave you to your devices, my lord. I hope your meetings prove well spent.â Dragging the trunk through the door, she slammed it in his face.Â
That had been three days ago. Theyâd seen each other in the halls and at meals, but other than that, Y/N steered clear of her husband. For the better part of the day, heâd been in a meeting with the patrons of Old Town, or so sheâd heard. Y/N took that as an opportunity, rushing out of the castleâs gates. Squealing, she cut through the tall grass once more, racing down the hill towards the lake. She threw her dress off, her petticoat barely revealing her modesty. Not that anyone would see, this part of the wood was only known by the family.Â
The water did wonders for her nerves, cooling her skin. Her hair stretched out past her waist, flowing like the tall grass that surrounded this oasis. She floated for what seemed like hours; the babe had not stirred once. She hummed, rubbing her bump gently. âIt is quite peaceful here, is it not?âÂ
A kick.Â
Y/N grinned, her eyes tearing up. âPlease, try your best to make this an easy birth. It would break my heart not to meet you. If that is the case, donât worry. Your fatherâs a good man; heâll raise you well.âÂ
No kick.Â
She laughed. âDo not ignore your mother. Itâs quite disrespectful.âÂ
A kick.Â
âI miss him too, my love.âÂ
A voice broke through the silence. âMiss who exactly?âÂ
Y/N jumped, standing in the water. âMy lord, I did not expect you-âÂ
âI was in a meeting when a guard informed me you were running out of the castle gates.â His face looked conflicted, but she didnât want to address the fact that he most likely heard that whole âconversation,â so she remained silent. âIs there something you wish to tell me?âÂ
So he had heard. She smiled, trying to act as if nothing was wrong. âI do not know what you are referring to, my lord.âÂ
âStop.â Gwayne sighed. âYou havenât called me that since before we were engaged, and I do not wish for you to start again.â He stepped forward, extending his hand. âPlease come out of the lake.âÂ
She walked past his hand to her dress, every attempt to retrieve it proving futile. âHere.â Gwayne knelt down, picking it up off the stump. âWhat would you have done if I hadnât been here?âÂ
âI would have figured it out, thank you very much.â She glared, pulling the frock over her head. âDo you not have another meeting to attend, my lord?âÂ
âI canceled them.â He laughed, stepping forward. âAfter I heard my wife was running away from our home, I thought it best to tend to the matter myself.âÂ
âHow wise of you.â Y/N crossed her arms.Â
âShall we go to bed?âÂ
âI am not tired.â She walked up the hill, leaving him behind. âHave a restful night, my lord.âÂ
She slammed her bedroom door shut, leaning against it. She was tired; she hated to admit it. But she wouldnât have told him that. She walked over to the window, placing the bouquet she picked on the mantle. A reminder of the freedom she once had. A reminder of life before she faced death itself.Â
A knock rang out. âMay I come in?âÂ
She tensed. âIf you must.â She faced the window, too scared to face him. If she looked at him, truly looked at him, she thought she would start crying. âTo what do I owe the pleasure of your company?âÂ
âI have to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly.â
She nodded, walking away from the window and placing her robe in her wardrobe. âAsk it then.âÂ
âDo you still love me?â
Her heart stopped. âI-âÂ
Gwayne stepped forward, wrapping a singular arm around her waist. He drew her in, his scent engulfing her senses. She fought herself not to fall for his spell, but as he leaned his head down, and his breath hitting her neck, she knew she would not last. âIf you do not, speak it plainly because I- I cannot go on like this any longer.âÂ
She turned around in his arms, placing her arms on his chest. âI do not believe I could ever stop loving you. Trust me when I say this.â She smiled. âIâm afraid itâs terminal.âÂ
âAh.â He let out a sigh of relief. âThen what is it that troubles you so?âÂ
âI do not know what you-âÂ
âI beg you, do not finish that sentence.â He tilted her chin up, worry in his eyes. âWhat ales you, my love?âÂ
âI am simply nervous.â She to be out of his arms. The longer she stayed in his embrace, the more compelled she felt to tell him. âIt is nothing, I swear to you.â
He raised his eyebrows, pulling her hands from his chest and kissing them gently. âPlease do not lie to me.â
âThat night I visited the Maester, he told me something.â He nodded. âHe said with the way the pregnancy is progressing, it is possible that the babe will be born breach.â Her voice grew quieter the longer she spoke.Â
âThatâs not all, is it?âÂ
She pushed out of his hold, walking to the other side of the room. âIâm so sorry, Gwayne. Truly, I am. Please forgive me-â a sob wrecked her body. âBut I want to live. Please.âÂ
Gwayne shook his head. Where was this coming from? âWhatever are you talking about?âÂ
âI know I have been acting radical as of late, and I apologize, I just thought-â She hiccuped. âI thought it would make your choice easier.âÂ
âWhat choice, darling?âÂ
She whispered. âBetween me and the babe.âÂ
âWhy would I-â It dawned on him. Had she really been dealing with this all by herself? âOh, my sweet girl. Why did you not tell me?âÂ
âI didnât want to stress you any further.â She hugged herself. âPlease, Gwayne. I swear I will give you another heir if this pregnancy-â She shivered. âJust donât cut me. I beg you.âÂ
He dropped down in front of her, grabbing her hands in his. âListen to me well. I could sire a hundred children, but you. You are one of a kind, and I will always choose you.â He kissed the back of her hands once more. âIrreplaceable. You must know this.âÂ
âGwayne, no one is truly irreplaceable.âÂ
He stood, his eyes dark. âDo not say such things again. Swear it to me.âÂ
âI-âÂ
âSwear it, Y/N.âÂ
âI swear.â She whispered, cheeks red. âI swear to you.âÂ
He nodded, smiling lightly. âIâm sorry.âÂ
âFor what?âÂ
âFor coddling you.â He stepped closer, caressing her bump. âI am scared as well. My own mother had many a difficult pregnancy, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.âÂ
âI am sorry as well.â She placed a hand on his cheek. âI should have come to you with my worries. I did not want to burden you. And I will make sure you have your heir. I promise you that.âÂ
âI do not care if the Hightower name crumbles away into nothingness. As long as you are content, I will be as well.â He leaned down, their foreheads touching. âThere would be no point to this without you. I fear I could not do this if you were not by my side.âÂ
âYou have been doing perfectly fine as of late.â She winced. "I truly am sorry.âÂ
âNo more of that.â He whispered, staring at her lips. âMay we please go to bed?âÂ
She nodded, knowing if she tried to speak that words would fail her. She lay on the bed beside him, tracing his freckles. âSleep, my love.â He wrapped an arm around her waist. âI will be here when you wake, I promise.âÂ
#game of thrones#house of the dragon#team black#team green#alicent hightower#gwayne hightower#gwayne hightower x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#x reader#fanfiction#got#got fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd#hotd fluff#literature#hotd angst#angst
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Till We Meet Again (m) | jjk
When your childhood friend that you had a crush on, moved away out of the blueâ you never thought youâd see him again. A night swim in the ocean will have you feeling delusional, but the voice that fills your earsâ sweet like cotton candy, youâd recognize that voice anywhere, itâs Jungkook.
â Pairing: jungkook x reader (female) â AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au â Trope: childhood friends to lovers â Genres: romcom, smut, nostalgia, and so much fluff â Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) â Word count: 11.4k â Warnings (general) + triggers: Jungkookâs first time (he is not a virgin lol, but itâs his first time with a human, so), this one is actually pretty mild, bordering on vanilla. Thereâs talk about how merfolk do it đ This is just crack fantasy okay, please donât take it seriously! Thereâs some small pov changes in here, because, well, it just happened, lol. â Warnings (explicit): protected sex, oral (both male and female), hair pulling, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, a little bit of dirty talk, begging, pleasing. â Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld â Read on AO3! â Authorâs note: happy birthday to my sweet and lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7) 𼳠I wrote this story for you as a present. I know youâre not that much into fantasy, but when I told you about my mermaid ideas, you were excited đ¤ So this first one is for you bby ⨠I really hope you like it, also that everyone else does!
[s.masterlist] â this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though đ¤
The rain begins to pour as Jungkook grips your hand, his touch both delicate and powerful, guiding you through the sudden downpour. Moments ago, you were laughing and playing at the local playground, unaware that Mother Nature was about to drench the world in her unexpected shower.
Your heart pounds in your chest and echoes in your ears as you race to keep up with Jungkook, a wide smile spreading across your face. For an eight-year-old, heâs pretty damn fast, making every step feel like a thrilling challenge.
Heâs sprinting down familiar streets, and you quickly realize heâs heading towards your home. Youâve never seen his house or met his parents, but your own parents adore Jungkook, joking that heâs your future husband. Youâre not thinking that far aheadâyouâre just a child, after all. Yet, youâd be lying if you said you didnât have a fondness for him.
Letâs be honest, you have the biggest crush on the sweet boy with the round face and big doe eyes that seem too large for his tiny head. His nose is adorable, and his teeth only add to his charm. In short, you love everything about him, even his occasional unreasonable moments. But when he pouts, sticking out his bottom lip in that irresistibly cute way, your heart completely melts.
Your house comes into view, but instead of heading inside, he veers into your backyard, leading you towards the hidden playhouse nestled among the bushes and small trees.
âShouldnât we get inside where itâs dry?â you ask, bewilderment etched across your face as you finally reach the playhouse. He crouches down and gently pulls you inside, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
âNo, weâll be safe here,â he assures you, sitting down with his legs tucked under him. He bites his lip softly, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.
âWe should go inside; I donât want either of us to catch a cold,â you mumble, settling beside him and feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. Despite not feeling chilled yet, you know itâs risky to stay out in wet clothes. Itâs autumn, and although the air still holds a lingering warmth, youâre aware that it wonât last long.
âLetâs just stay here for a moment, okay?â he pleads, his eyes wide and his signature pout in full effect. You find yourself unable to resistâafter all, who could say no to that adorable face?
For a few minutes, you sit there side by side, listening to the sky weep as rain patters softly on the roof of the playhouse. A few droplets sneak inside, but it hardly matters.
Jungkook suddenly turns to you, his expression unreadableâ sadness flickers across his features, his normally warm brown eyes darkening to near-black in the dim light. His smile vanishes, replaced by a somberness that seems to weigh heavily on him. You canât help but wonder what has shifted, why heâs undergone this sudden transformation in demeanor.
â___. Promise me youâll never forget me?âÂ
His eyes widen with earnestness, pleading like a puppyâs, and both of his hands seek yours, holding on as if afraid of being forgotten.
Emotions swirl in those hazel eyes, a tumultuous sea of feelings you struggle to decipher. You long to grasp his thoughts, to understand why heâs broaching the topic of forgetting him. But the idea is unfathomable to you; forgetting him seems as impossible as forgetting your own name.
Something shimmers in his eyesâwhat, you canât quite discern. They resemble an ocean, deep and mysterious, where one could easily lose themselves if they stared for too long.
âForget you? Kookie, what on earth are you talking about?â your eyes widen in disbelief, searching his face for any hint of understanding, but finding only confusion.
âItâs just... I like you a lot, and,â he murmurs, stumbling over his words, his hands fidgeting nervously with yours. Then, lifting his gaze to meet yours, he adds with a touch of vulnerability, âIâll never forget you. You mean the world to me, ___. Youâre my friend.â
With a warm smile and a gentle chuckle, you reply, âDuh, silly. Of course youâll never forget me! And Iâll never forget you either. Now, can we please go inside?â
Jungkook smiles, but it doesnât quite reach his eyes as it usually does, leaving a lingering unease in the pit of your stomach. It feels like a storm is brewing within you, mirroring the turbulent weather outside.
âJust promise me. Weâll never forget each other, no matter what,â he implores, his voice firm and unwavering, his eyes reflecting the solemnity of his words.
He clasps your hand with his own, seeking out your pinky finger.Â
âPinky promise?â he asks, his eyes earnest, holding onto your gaze with a mix of hope and determination.
Your eyes flicker with a rapid dance of confusion and amusement. Despite the chaos of the moment, a smile spreads across your face, its warmth seeming to dissolve his frown and alleviate his frazzled state.
âOkay. Pinky promise,â you affirm, intertwining your pinky finger with his, sealing the pact with a vow that feels as timeless as eternity.
You never laid eyes on Jungkook after thatâwell, you did both retreat indoors, your mother showering Jungkook with love and sweet treats he adored. But after that day, twenty long years ago, he vanished from your life out of the blue, leaving only memories behind.
Why youâre thinking about him now, you really donât know. Yet, just as he once asked of you, youâve never let go of his memoryâa part of you still holds onto the hope that he might reappear, surprising you around some unsuspecting corner, as if he never left. But with each passing day, the likelihood of such serendipity grows fainter, like the receding tide of the deep blue ocean.
Maybe itâs the nostalgia stirred by your recent home purchase by the sea that brings back memories of your childhood crush. The vast expanse of the ocean triggers thoughts of his eyesânot because of their color, but the way they used to glimmer, reflecting the light with a sparkle that danced like sunbeams on water.
Long strolls on the beach prove therapeutic, gradually pushing thoughts of your childhood crush to the recesses of your mind. With each step along the sandy shores, you uncover treasuresâseashells, smoothed by the relentless embrace of the waves, and other mementos of seaside serenity.
You truly love the beach, which is why you chose to buy a house so close to the shore. Itâs not just because the ocean reminds you of a certain childhood friend you wish you could see again. His sudden departure has always baffled youâsometimes you wonder what really happened.Â
Was he kidnapped, or did he simply leave without a word?Â
Why would he vanish without telling you first, especially if he just had to move?
Itâs after dinner, and you find yourself lounging on your terrace, gazing out at the ocean. The view is breathtaking, and when the wind blows just right, the salty breeze gently caresses your skin. You smile a wistful smile as you raise your glass to your lips. Today is a red wine day; despite the heat, the perfectly chilled glass complements the warmth of the evening air.
With your legs propped up on the lounge chair, reclined for maximum comfort, you gaze out at the vast expanse of the sea. You canât help but wonder about the treasures and secrets it holds, a mysterious world teeming with countless species youâve never even heard of that call it home.
Mankind has long tried to conquer the world beneath the waters, yet the pitch-black depths of the ocean remain largely unexplored, beyond the reach of even the best diving gear. Though youâre no diver, the allure of the seaâs hidden secrets captivates you, and you dream of one day uncovering its mysteries.
A sweet, velvety sound caresses your ears, prompting you to sit up and listen more closely. The enchanting melody wraps around you, and you realize itâs a voiceâsomeone is singing.
God, it sounds beautifulâcaptivating, sweet, and strong, yet tinged with sorrow. The melody weaves its way into your soul, leaving you spellbound.
For a moment, you wonder if itâs all in your headâa fleeting hallucination brought on by too much wine. But a glance at your glass and the nearly full bottle beside you confirms youâve barely finished your first glass.
The voice is real, and it carries an eerily familiar tone. Intrigued, you rise from your comfortable lounge chair and make your way down to the sandy beach that has been your backyard for the past few days.
Your bare feet sink into the warm, fine sand, its texture caressing your skin. You glance around, searching for the source of the beautiful voice, but the beach remains empty, with no one in sight.
There it is againâthe singing, so achingly beautiful that it sends shivers down your spine and raises the hair on your arms. Your feet carry you along the shoreline, but despite your efforts, you canât pinpoint the source of the enchanting voice.
Then, just as youâve been pacing up and down the shoreline, the voice abruptly vanishesâquiet as a still puddle after a rain shower. With a strange unease settling in your gut, you reluctantly turn back toward home. The voice felt hauntingly familiar, yet somehow elusiveâlike a distant memory struggling to resurface.
For the past few days, the hauntingly beautiful voice has serenaded you night after night, drawing you out to the beach in search of its mysterious owner. Despite your efforts, luck eludes you, and each failed attempt leaves you with a sense of frustration, reminiscent of the pout Jungkook used to give you whenever you were being unreasonable with him.
Your frustration mounts as the elusive voice continues to evade you, its hauntingly familiar tone persistently tugging at the corners of your mind.
Frustration coursing through your veins, you slip into your bikini, determined to quell the restlessness with a night swim in your aquatic backyard.
As the sand caresses your feet, you stroll down to the shoreline under the watchful gaze of the moon, its ethereal glow casting a mesmerizing sheen upon the water. The scene is nothing short of magical, and as the lukewarm water embraces your skin, a delightful chill courses through your bodyânot from the cold, but from the familiar embrace of your second home. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart, and in this moment, it feels like a sanctuary away from the world.
Surrendering to the embrace of the water, you allow its gentle currents to envelop you, cradling you in its soft embrace as you yield to its rhythmic sway. With only your head above the surface, you venture further into the depths, relishing the sensation of weightlessness and freedom that comes with each stroke.
A soft, melodic sound tickles your earâitâs that captivating voice again! This time, it resonates clearer, as if drawing you in closer. Driven by curiosity, you swim towards the source of the sound, your heart pounding with anticipation. As you approach a cluster of rocks and a looming cliffside, you spy a cave nestled within its embrace, beckoning you with its mysterious allure.
The cave envelops you in darkness, yet the gentle glow of the full moon dances upon the water, casting an ethereal light that transforms the rocky surface of the cliff into glistening crystals. The voice reverberates off the walls, its echoes amplifying its haunting melody. Drawing closer, you discern a figure resting their head upon a rock, their silhouette illuminated by the moonâs gentle caress.
Intrigued, you inch closer, your curiosity piqued. As you approach, you discern the figure of a man, likely around your age, or perhaps a bit younger, reclining against the stone, his body partially obscured by its shadowy embrace.
âHello?â you call out, your voice echoing softly in the cave. Instantly, a pair of dark brown eyes fixate on yours, their intensity sending a shiver of recognition down your spine.
As you hear something splashing nearby, you swiftly swim to the corner of the cave. Pulling yourself up onto the rocky surface, you cast an inquisitive gaze at the stranger, who remains silent, their expression enigmatic.
âAre you okay?â you inquire, met with silence as the man attempts to retreat, concealing more of his body beneath the murky depths, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath the surface.
You approach cautiously, taking slow, measured steps, careful not to startle the man. His features are strikingâsharp, chiseled jawline, eyes wide and intense, lips full yet thin, and a cute nose that triggers a flood of memories from long ago, memories that have never faded.
âJungkook?â you gasp, the name escaping your lips like a sudden gust of wind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within youâhappiness and hurt colliding like waves crashing against the shore, overwhelming you in their tumultuous embrace.
The man cautiously peers over the rock, his bare torso partially shielded from view. The sight of him shirtless prompts a flurry of questions in your mindâwhy is he here, and why is he without a shirt?
Is that a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm?
You canât help but notice the strength in his neck, the prominent veins tracing a path down to his defined clavicle and broad shoulders. Damn it you really shouldnât, but you find yourself shamelessly admiring his physique, a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.
â___?â His voice breaks the silence, light and airy, reminiscent of a summer breeze whispering through the leaves.
âIs it really you?â you inquire, lowering yourself to sit in front of him, your gaze sweeping over his features once more. His face holds a striking resemblance to someone from your past, now matured with the passage of time. Yet, those deep, familiar ocean eyes leave no doubtâitâs unmistakably Jungkook.
âYes, itâs me,â he confirms, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. The boyish charm of his smile clashes with the maturity reflected in his sharp features, creating a captivating contrast.
âWhat are you doing here?â you inquire, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in your voice. The sight of him in this cave, serenading the darkness with his song, leaves you utterly bewildered.
âJust taking a breather,â he chuckles, his gaze shamelessly roaming over your form, sending a subtle shiver down your spine.
âHold on a second,â you exclaim, frustration tinged with urgency in your voice as you scratch your head in bewilderment. âWhat brings you here? You vanished without a trace. What happened?â
Another splash in the water draws your attention, and you track the sound to behind Jungkookâthen, you spot it: the tail. Itâs a mesmerizing shade of purple, with delicate variations of violet shimmering in the moonlit cave. The translucent fins catch the light as they sway gracefully. The scales, rough and scaly, add to the otherworldly beauty of him.
Your jaw nearly hits the rocky surfaceâif it could, it surely would. You gaze, utterly transfixed, at the figure before youâyour childhood friend, now revealed as a mermaid. No, a merman. The revelation leaves you reeling. How is this possible? Youâve heard of undiscovered species lurking beneath the waters, but this is your friend, someone youâve known for years with two perfectly functional feet and no hint of a scaly tail.
â___,â he begins, his voice filled with warmth and genuine curiosity. âItâs been such a long time. How have you been?â His eyes radiate happiness, but youâre still reeling from the revelation before you. Seeing him againâsomething youâve dreamt about for yearsâleaves you speechless.
âNo,â you assert firmly, a rush of urgency in your tone. âYou donât get to ask questions yet. There are so many things I need answers to from you first.â Determined, you attempt to peer over the rock heâs perched on, desperate for a closer look at the astonishing sight before youâyour childhood friend now bearing a tail, a reality that defies all logic.
âAlright, fire away,â he responds, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. âBut give me a moment to settle in.â With a graceful movement, he hoists himself out of the water, his biceps flexing as he perches on the rock, his tail lazily swaying in the water. Bathed in the soft glow of the cave, his majestic purple tail shimmers, leaving you in awe of his breathtaking beauty.
He seems big and broad shouldered, the tattoos look intricate, reflecting ancient scribbles and drawings on his arm.
You plop down on the rugged surface, your mind reeling with disbeliefâit all feels like a surreal dream. Unable to resist, you extend your hand to touch him, as if to confirm his reality. Your index finger tentatively prods his cheek before trailing down to his chest. The moment your touch meets his pecs, youâre met with a jolt of realizationâhis muscles are firm, real, and undeniably tangible beneath your fingertips, sending a surge of heat through your veins as you inadvertently find yourself groping his impeccable chest.
âWhat are you doing?â he asks, his eyes darting from your hand on his chest back to your face. Embarrassment floods your cheeks with a deep crimson as the realization of your actions hits you. Youâve been feeling the solid warmth of his chest, lost in the surreal moment.
âOh, God. Iâm so sorry!â you blurt out, yanking your hand back as if itâs been scorched. âI didnât mean to touch you like that!â Embarrassment floods through you, your heart racing as you pull away from the unexpected intimacy.
Damn it, get a grip, you chastise yourself silently. âI just wanted to make sure this is real,â you confess aloud, your voice trembling slightly with lingering disbelief.
You release a nervous chuckle, the sound betraying the disbelief still coursing through you. But as you take in the surreal sight before youâJungkook, undeniably real and impossibly transformedâyou can no longer deny the truth. Your childhood friend is here, right in front of you, and he is, astonishingly, a merman.
âOh, this is very real,â he teases, his voice rich and layered with an enigmatic quality that you canât quite decipher but are desperate to understand.
âAre you really a merman?â you ask, your gaze drifting back to his tail, mesmerized by its iridescent beauty. Itâs breathtaking, almost otherworldly.
He nods, a soft smile playing on his lips, his eyes glimmering with a wistful nostalgia that tugs at your heartstrings.
âWhat happened to you? Why did you leave?â you demand, the urgency in your voice revealing the depth of your longing and confusion. These are the questions that have haunted you for years, the ones you swore youâd ask if you ever saw him again. Why did he disappear without a word, leaving you behind?
You watch as his expression shifts, becoming more guarded. âMy parents and I had to move back home... to the ocean, I mean,â he explains, his face twitching as if struggling to mask an inner pain. âA rift in a tectonic plate devastated my village. Everything was destroyed, so we had to return and help rebuild.â
You study him closely, a lump forming in your throat as a myriad of emotions swirl within you.
âOkay. But why couldnât you come back when you were done?â you inquire, your voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and hurt. Itâs apparent that there are unresolved feelings of abandonment lingering within you, a reminder of the wounds you may need to address with your therapist.
âI really wanted to, but my parents and the village elders forbade it. We dedicated ourselves to rebuilding our village, but returning to the surface was strictly prohibited,â he explains, a palpable sadness tinting his words. Itâs evident that he had yearned to reunite with you, but the weight of his responsibilities as a merman ultimately kept him bound to the depths of the ocean.
âWhy are you here now? And are there others like you?â you inquire, a mix of bewilderment and intrigue coloring your tone. As you press for more information, you notice him visibly relax, his features softening once again in response to your curiosity.
âWell, Iâve been here for quite a while. I come up here to sing, often thinking of you, actually,â he confesses, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. âAnd yes, there are others like me,â he adds with a chuckle, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and friendly banter.
âThinking of me?â you stammer in amazement, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of his words settles in.
âYeah. Iâve missed you since I had to leave, and Iâve been searching for you for years. Meeting you again feels like a dream come true,â he confesses, his voice filled with palpable joy at the reunion with a long-lost friend. His words send a surge of warmth through you, igniting a flutter of emotions you thought long buried. As your heart skips a beat, youâre struck by the realization that the childhood crush you harbored for him still lingers, stronger than ever.
âIâve missed you too,â you exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with emotion. With a gentle touch, you extend your hand, laying it atop his on the rough surface of the rock, a silent reassurance of your enduring bond.
âHow come youâre a merman? You were just a boy last time I saw youâŚâ you begin, not really knowing how to ask the question that you have swirling in your mind.
âYou want to know if something happened to me, to make me like this,â he gestures with his other hand over his bodyâ itâs well defined, muscles big and strong, âor if Iâd always been a merman?â His words hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the mysteries surrounding his transformation.
You choke on air with how effortlessly he articulates your thoughts, a skill heâs always possessed. You nod in agreement, the intensity of your curiosity driving you to lean in closer, desperate to unravel the enigma of his transformation.
âIâve always been a merman. My parents chose to live as humansâ theyâre merfolk too, by the way. But they wanted me to experience life on land. So, despite appearances, Iâve always been like this,â he explains, a smile gracing his lips as he playfully flips his tail in the water, sending ripples dancing in his wake.
âHow⌠How do you transform?â you ask, studying him intently once more. Despite his remarkable change, he still retains that familiar essence, stirring up the remnants of the childhood crush you thought youâd outgrown. A flush of warmth creeps across your cheeks, betraying the intensity of your emotions.
âWell. When Iâm out of water for an extended period, I assume my human form. And when Iâm in contact with water, I revert to my merman form,â he explains, a soft smile gracing his lips. As his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch is tender, each stroke a gentle caress that ignites a spark of warmth within you.
You nod, absorbing his explanation, but then you gasp as his words sink in, a realization dawning on you. âDo you transform when it rains then?â you blurt out, the question bursting forth with newfound urgency and curiosity.
His laughter fills the air, rich and unrestrained, sending ripples of warmth through your chest. Your gaze instinctively drifts to his chest, where the rhythmic movement of his pectorals accompanies the melody of his mirth, a captivating display of joy that you canât help but revel in.
âNo. That wouldnât be very practical. It has to be seawater, or simply prolonged exposure to water can also do the trick,â he explains, his tone laced with a hint of amusement at the notion of rain-induced transformations.
You nod in understanding once more. âNothing about this is practical, Jungkook,â you remark, a hint of incredulity lacing your tone.
He chuckles again, withdrawing his hand from yours and gently cupping your cheek. His touch sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, like a dormant ember suddenly ignited into a flickering flame, ready to blaze anew.
He locks eyes with you, his gaze unwavering and intense, brimming with depths of emotion that beckon you to explore. Itâs like peering into an uncharted ocean, filled with mysteries waiting to be discovered. Despite the unfamiliarity, youâre drawn to dive deep and lose yourself in the depths of his gaze.
âDo you remember our promise?â he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble, yet resolute. Seeking solace in the familiarity of your gaze, his words carry the weight of cherished memories and unspoken vows.
âOf course,â you respond with a bittersweet smile, lifting your hand and extending your pinky finger. âIâve never forgotten you, Jungkook,â you affirm, the weight of years past and promises kept evident in your touch.
He hums a melody, its tune unfamiliar yet strangely soothing, and in that moment, you find solace in the sound of his voice, the melody a balm to your racing heart. âIâve never forgotten you either, ___,â he confesses, his words carrying the weight of shared memories and enduring connection.
With his other hand, he reaches out, extending his pinky finger to intertwine with yours, creating a connection that feels like two worlds colliding, merging into one. Itâs a moment of transcendence, where past and present converge, binding you both in a promise that spans the depths of time.
âI never got to tell you this on that day, and it has haunted me since, but I like you,â His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths and a vulnerability that echoes through your soul. As he gazes into your eyes, it feels like heâs peeling away layers of your being, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, despite the fabric that shields your skin. With each moment, he draws nearer, his touch a gentle anchor amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you.
âI like you too,â your confession hangs in the air, suspended between you like a delicate thread woven with anticipation and longing. With every word, you feel the weight of your emotions, amplified by the closeness of his presence. As your breath brushes against his skin, you can almost taste the bittersweet tang of desire mingled with the salt of the ocean breeze.
In his embrace, you feel cherished, cocooned in a world where only the two of you exist. His gaze, laden with affection, dances between the depths of your eyes and the soft curve of your lips, a silent symphony of desire. You catch the subtle flicker of his pupils as they dilate, mirroring the fluttering of your heart. A fleeting gesture, your tongue brushes against your lips, a subtle invitation to bridge the divide between longing and fulfillment.
In the hushed sanctuary of the moonlit cave, time seems to stretch into a languid dance, enveloping you both in its tender embrace. The world outside fades into a distant murmur, leaving only the rhythmic melody of your shared breaths echoing off the rocky walls. Your gaze descends to the plush pinkness of his lips, a tantalizing invitation begging to be explored. A surge of curiosity and desire courses through you, igniting a tempest of longing as you ponder the intoxicating possibility of tasting his kiss.
âCan I kiss you?â His question hangs in the air like a delicate promise, and you feel a rush of anticipation flooding your senses, the tension between you crackling like electricity. His words, soft yet laden with unspoken longing, send a tremor of excitement coursing through your veins. In that suspended moment, you find yourself caught in the irresistible pull of his gaze, his eyes a sea of swirling emotions mirroring your own. With a silent plea echoing in your heart, you grant him permission with a subtle nod, your breath hitching in anticipation as you yearn for the moment when his lips will meet yours.
His tattooed hand, warm and possessive, slides from your cheek to the back of your neck with a gentle urgency, pulling you into him as if heâs afraid you might slip away. When his lips meet yours, itâs like a collision of stars, soft yet electric, igniting a wildfire of sensation that courses through your veins. As he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort, youâre overcome with a rush of warmth and affection. With a soft chuckle escaping your lips, you reach for him, fingers intertwining with the soft strands of his hair as you draw him closer. The second kiss is a revelation, a crescendo of desire and longing that leaves you breathless and craving more. His hum reverberates against your lips, grounding you in the intensity of the moment, like a lifeline in a sea of swirling emotions.
You draw back reluctantly, a sigh escaping your lips as you feel the bittersweet ache of parting. âItâs getting late,â you murmur, the weight of reality settling in as you remember your responsibilities waiting beyond the caveâs embrace.Â
âWhen will I see you again?â the question hangs between you like a delicate thread, woven with hope and uncertainty, longing for reassurance in the face of impending separation.
A mischievous glint dances in his eyes, and he licks his lips with a playful flick of his tongue, relishing the way your senses are all tangled up in a whirlwind of emotionsâfrazzled yet utterly blissed-out in his presence.
âSoon,â he assures with a reassuring smile, his touch lingering for a moment longer as his thumb caresses your lip, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. âYou can always find me here, or just listen for my voice. But duty calls back home. Iâll return, I promise.â With that, he pulls away, releasing you from the spell of the moment, but leaving behind a promise that lingers in the air like the echo of his voice in the cave.
Reluctantly, you rise, dusting off imaginary particles from your skin with a sweep of your hands, lingering in the moment a bit longer. With a soft smile, you regard him, your eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and longing.Â
âYou really have a beautiful voice, Jungkook,â you murmur, the words carrying a weight of sincerity and admiration, like a gentle breeze in the tranquil cave.
With a smile that seems to illuminate the entire cave, he gracefully immerses himself in the water, causing it to dance and ripple around him like liquid poetry in motion.
âI canât wait to see you again,â you express, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and affection, each word carrying the weight of the emotions you hold for him.
âIâll be counting the moments until our paths cross again,â he murmurs softly, his words carrying on the gentle breeze as he fades into the depths below, leaving you with the lingering promise of his return.
Jungkook had indeed kept his word. Though you trusted him, a small part of you feared youâd never see him again. Yet, the very next day, he reappeared in the cave, serenading you with a song as you basked in his presence. This enchanting ritual has continued every day for the past two weeks, each encounter deepening your bond and making the fear of losing him fade away.
So far, your encounters have been limited to kisses, which you absolutely loveâhis lips are incredibly soft. Yet, lately, youâve found yourself yearning for more. The stress of your upcoming housewarming party, which youâve shared with Jungkook, isnât helping. You think that letting loose with him might be just what you need to de-stress.
âWhy are you having this party again if you donât really want to?â he asks, genuinely curious. He canât fathom why youâd willingly burden yourself with the hassle of pleasing others when it clearly brings you no joy.
âI guess itâs just expected of me,â you muse, looking down at the sparkling water as his tail gently plays with it, creating ripples. âMy friends are coming, my parents too. They havenât seen my new house yet.â
He smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes. âItâs nice that youâre doing this for them, but it sounds like youâre forcing yourself. That makes me a bit sad.â
You shake your head and put up your hands in defense. âYeah, but itâs okay. Itâs not like I dislike it completely. Itâll be nice seeing my friends again.â You pause, a sudden idea lighting up your face.Â
âYou could also come, you know?â
His face brightens momentarily, but then he slumps down in the water, looking a bit deflated. âIâd love to come, but Iâm not sure I can. My hyungs need my help in the village; one of them has been missing for days, and weâve been searching for him without luckâŚâ His voice trails off, a mix of concern and disappointment etched on his face.
You feel a twinge of sadness for him and say softly, âIâm so sorry, Jungkook. I hope you find him soon. Just know youâre always welcome, no matter when.â
His smile returns, but thereâs a hint of worry in his eyes as he speaks. âThanks. Jimin usually never wanders off, thatâs why weâre afraid something has happened to him.â
You envelop him in a hug, offering what comfort you can, despite not knowing Jimin. You silently pray for Jiminâs swift returnâafter all, you understand more than most the ache of missing a piece of your heart.
A few days later, the soft strains of music fill your home, weaving through the laughter and chatter of old and new friends alike, and the comforting presence of your parents, whose faces you havenât seen in what feels like an eternity.
As you mingle with your friends, catching up on stories and laughter, time seems to dance away unnoticed. Itâs only when the gentle kiss of the evening breeze starts to nip at your skin that you realize how long youâve been engrossed in conversation with your colleague out on the terrace. With a shared chuckle at the sudden chill, you both retreat inside, seeking the warmth of good company and lively conversations.
Her joke evokes laughter from you, but the moment is abruptly interrupted by her sudden silence, drawing your attention to where her finger points. In the kitchen, your parents stand, their faces alight with smiles, engaged in conversation with a tall, dark-haired man whose locks curl gently at the ends.
Her curiosity piques as she nudges you with a mischievous grin.Â
âWhoâs that hot man with a tattooed arm over there talking with your parents?â she asks, her voice tinged with intrigue, prompting both of you to draw nearer to the kitchen.
As you draw closer, disbelief gives way to certainty: itâs unmistakably Jungkook standing beside your parents.
â___! You never mentioned Jungkookâs return! How long has it been, twenty years?â your mother exclaims, her smile radiant as she pinches Jungkookâs cheek affectionately, treating him like a long-lost child returned home.
Your dadâs eyes sparkle with the warmth of a long-awaited reunion, as if heâs just rediscovered an old friend, and you canât help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you.
Your mother reaches out to embrace Jungkook, her petite frame enveloped by his much larger one, but he indulges her with a warm hug, wrapping her in a comforting embrace.
With a playful grin, your friend nudges you, her eyes darting between you and Jungkook, a knowing glint sparkling in them. âWho is this handsome man?â
As you break from your reverie, you manage a sheepish grin, your voice carrying a hint of nostalgia and excitement. âThis is Jungkook, my childhood friend. We go way back.â
âHeâs hot,â your friendâs observation cuts through the air with a boldness that makes you chuckle, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she sizes up Jungkook.
Your motherâs laughter fills the room, a warm melody that dances around the air. âHe really is! Youâve really outgrown that cute bunny phase you had,â she teases, her fingers playfully squeezing Jungkookâs rather impressive biceps.
âMom! Youâre embarrassing me,â you groan, a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation painting your voice as you reach for Jungkookâs hand, eager to escape the teasing clutches of both your parents and your friend.
As you pull him away, Jungkook chuckles softly, following you into the living room where you both sink into the inviting embrace of the couch.
Amidst the chatter filling the room, engaging in conversation with Jungkook proves challenging, his words often drowned out by the lively voices of others around you.
âWould you like to step out for a bit? Take a stroll along the beach?â he proposes, his gaze alight with anticipation, as if the idea itself holds a promise of something wonderful.
With a nod, you clasp his hand, a silent agreement passing between you. But before you step out into the night, you make a quick detour to your friend, informing her of your plans for a seaside stroll.
She scrutinizes you with the intensity of a hawk, then delves into her purse, emerging with something in hand. âHere,â she says, passing it to you.Â
âI have a feeling you might need this.â
You accept the small foil packet, its presence alone sending a jolt of recognition through you. Your cheeks and ears ignite with heat, and you hastily tuck it into your jeans pocket, your gratitude tinged with embarrassment. âThanks,â you murmur, your voice slightly breathless.
As you begin to turn away, she shoots you a playful wink, causing you to release a sigh of embarrassment, your cheeks still flushed with color.
Outside, you stroll barefoot on the sand, reveling in the moment with Jungkook by your sideâboth of you connected to the earth beneath your feet. His presence captivates you, his figure tall and striking against the backdrop of the beach. Shoulder-length hair dances around his face, adding to his allure. With each step, you admire his physiqueâbroad shoulders tapering to a defined waist, muscular thighs moving with purpose. Clad in a white tank top, his biceps speak of strength, while his snug blue denim jeans accentuate his powerful legs, showcasing a silhouette that commands attention.
His human form is undeniably beautiful, but it pales in comparison to the breathtaking splendor of his merman form. This realization brings a soft smile to your lips, and a blush warms your cheeks.
You walk with him along the beach, your hand nestled comfortably in his, the silence stretching between you like a warm blanket. It feels like an eternity before he clears his throat, a deep rumble that breaks the quiet. âDo you want to go to the cave?â he asks, his voice tinged with a hopeful anticipation.
You look up at him, captivated by the soft, teasing smile playing on his lips. âYeah,â you agree, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.
âCool. I know a way to get there from land,â he says, pulling you along the shore. Your feet sink into the cool sand with each step, the waves gently lapping at your ankles as you follow him, while he makes an effort not to let the seawater touch him.
âYou do? I thought it was only accessible from the sea,â you chuckle, feeling the excitement build as he leads you closer to the rocky formations along the cliffside.
âI know a lot of hiding spots,â he giggles, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he reveals a narrow, almost hidden entryway in the cliffside, just big enough for him to slip through.
You step into the familiar cliffside cave where youâve been meeting for the past few weeks. Nestling into the small sandy patch, the only section not enveloped in stone, you feel a comforting sense of familiarity mixed with anticipation.
âMuch easier to talk in here, huh?â Jungkook chuckles, leaning back against the cave wall. The gentle echo of his laughter fills the space, making it feel cozier. You nod, a soft, airy chuckle escaping your lips as a blush warms your cheeks. Sitting beside him, the intimacy of the cave amplifies every shared glance and whispered word.
You look up at him, your eyes fluttering bashfully. âI donât really want to talk anymore,â you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
âOh, I thought you wanted to talk,â he says, his voice deflating as a pout forms on his lips. Thatâs when it hits youâhe has no idea how much you crave him, how badly you want to feel him, everywhere.
You turn your body towards his, your hands caressing his face as you pull his face towards yours. âI want to do more than talk,â you quip, your voice small but steady. âI want to kiss you and so much more.â
Something seems to snap in him, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his cheeks. He moves his face closer to yours, your noses almost touching. âSo you want more?â he teases, his voice a tantalizing whisper against your lips.
âYes,â you breathe, the word escaping in a breathless pant as you close the distance between you. Your lips meet his in a fervent, passionate kiss, igniting a fire that blazes between you. Your hands hold his cheeks in place, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch, as he responds eagerly, deepening the kiss with his tongue, sending waves of desire coursing through you.
When you part, both of your eyes are wide, pupils dilated with desire, reflecting the intensity of the moment.
âI want you, Kook,â you plead, your breath mingling with his, your foreheads pressed together in an intimate connection.
Your fingertips trace the lines of his body, dancing over the contours of his chest until they halt at the brink of his jeans.
âI want you too, ___, but Iââ he pants, his words cut short as you start to rub your hand over his clothed dick, eliciting a deep, gratifying groan from him.
You keep teasing him with your hand, feeling the growing hardness beneath your touch, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. You lick your lips, watching as his face contorts in pleasure, every subtle reaction driving you wild with desire.
âHmm, you like it?â you ask, positioning yourself directly in front of him, locking eyes as you continue your ministrations.
âYes, but Iââ as your hand maintains its pressure on his crotch, he stammers out his words, his voice a mixture of desire and hesitation.
âWhat, are you a virgin?â your playful tease hangs in the air, accompanied by a soft chuckle, as you lean in closer to him, your breath warming his ear with your whispered words.
âNo!â His response is hurried, almost defensive, tinged with a hint of embarrassment. âIâve just never done it with a human beforeâŚâ he confesses, his tone a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity.
You draw back slightly, scanning his face, catching a glimpse of uncertainty mingled with desire flickering in his eyes.
âI can guide you through it, show you what feels good. Trust me, youâll enjoy every moment,â you say, your eyes shimmering with a mix of confidence and anticipation.
âI mean, Jin hyung already told me how it works,â he pants, his gaze fixated on your hand as it works its magic, his hips instinctively moving in rhythm, âIâve touched myself before, out of curiosity, but Iâve never had sex with a human before.â
Your expression softens, recognizing that this is a new experience for him, so you resolve to take it slow.
âMermen donât exactly have dicks like humans,â he chuckles, his movements against your hand betraying his eagerness for friction.
You lean in again, teasing him, âHow exactly do merfolk have sex?â
He chuckles, smirking at you, âWell, itâs more like a mating ritual, honestly. Thereâs some swimming around, almost like a dance, rubbing against each other. Itâs quite primal and intimate, in its own way.â
You frown, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief evident on your face. âThatâs it?â
He nods, his expression both amused and sincere.â
âNo teasing? Release of bodily fluids? Making out? Sticking things into holes?â you list, your expression a mix of incredulity and disappointment. God, you really do like sex and all of the things you just listed. Mermaid intercourse sounds slightly boring in comparison.
âNo sticking things into holes sadlyâexcept for tongue kissing,â he chuckles, masking his disappointment with a playful grin, though you sense a tinge of longing in his eyes.
âBut you get to try that now, okay? Then you can tell all your friends how it is to have sex with a human,â you smile, feeling a bit mischievous, your words laced with humor as you try to lighten the mood after the serious discussion.
âMany of them have already experienced it,â he laughs, his tone tinged with excitement and a hint of anticipation, âMy hyungs have done it a lot, and I canât wait to experience it myself.â
âThey sound like theyâve had their fair share of adventures,â you chuckle, stealing a glance downwards, noticing the telltale strain in his pants.
He chuckles, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. âCan we talk about something else? Because Iâm having trouble focusing on your hand when Iâm talking about my friends.â
With a playful laugh, you grasp the situation and share a knowing glance. Eager to reignite the passionate spark between you, you playfully unzip his pants, only to discover heâs gone commandoâa thrilling surprise that sets your heart racing and ignites a rush of desire.
A mischievous grin plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow, your fingers wrapping around his cock teasingly. âNo underwear?â you jest, a playful twinkle in your eye, as you give him a tantalizing stroke, feeling his anticipation building with each caress.
With a low, guttural sound, he shifts his weight, arching his back to assist as you peel off the remainder of his jeans. Your fingers eagerly find their way back to his dick, marveling at its girth and length, already imagining the delicious stretch it will bring. The anticipation sends shivers down your spine.
His cock is longâ longer than average, and thicker too. The tip is red, a small bead of precum gathered at the top, just waiting to be tasted by your tongue.
He teases you, his hips surging upward as if to test your grip. âDo you like it?â he murmurs, a hint of mischief in his voice, his eyes locking onto yours as he waits for your response.
You meet his gaze with a smirk, your fingers still wrapped around him. âYeah, itâs impressive,â you concede, your voice laced with anticipation. Honestly, you donât care much about the size of it, more about how good he is at using it.
He watches you intently, his gaze probing yet curious. âHave you had a lot of sex before?â
You nod and give him a small smile.
You lean in closer, your eyes locked with his, conveying your sincerity and eagerness. âI have, but letâs focus on us now,â you whisper, your voice tinged with determination. âI want to make you feel good, and then you can return the favor. How does that sound?â
With a tantalizing smile, you moisten your lips before lowering them to his cock. The instant contact makes him quiver, a reaction that only fuels your desire. You start by tracing him with your tongue, savoring his taste, before enveloping him completely in your warm, wet mouth.
He utters adorable, needy moans as your mouth envelops him, his reactions spurring you on as you slide up and down, sucking him with fervor and intensity.
His hands find your hair, gripping it gently at first, then with a bit more urgency, but you donât mind one bit. Instead, it fuels your desire, urging you to take more of him into your mouth, to please him further with every movement.
The echoing sounds of slurping fill the cave, reverberating off the rocky walls, creating a symphony of desire. Each wet, sucking noise only fuels your arousal further, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with every passing moment.
âShit. Iâm feeling like I might come already,â he pants, his fingers tightening in your hair, a futile attempt to control the rising tide of pleasure coursing through him.
You release him with a soft pop, panting as you meet his pleading gaze, a flicker of desire mirrored in your eyes, silently promising more to come.
âIt felt really good, but I really want to know what it feels like being inside your pussy, please,â his plea echoes through the cave, his eyes pleading like a desperate puppy, and you canât help but chuckle at his adorable earnestness, your own desire kindled by his longing gaze.
âOf course. I want to have you inside of me too,â you pant, urgency seeping into your voice as you hastily pull your shirt over your head, revealing the lace of your bra to him, a silent invitation in the flickering light of the cave.
âYouâre stunning,â he breathes, his voice filled with awe and genuine appreciation. âItâs not just your body that I love, but your entire essence, your personalityâitâs all so captivating.â
Your smile widens, mirroring the warmth and affection swelling in your chest as you gaze at him. As you begin to unbutton your pants, a thought nudges its way into your consciousness. Retrieving the foil packet from your pocket, you place it on the ground between you, a silent promise of the intimacy about to unfold.
Jungkookâs gaze flickers to the foil packet, curiosity sparking in his eyes like a flame catching kindling. âWhatâs that?â he asks, his voice laced with intrigue and a hint of anticipation, as if sensing the gravity of the moment wrapped in that small, innocuous package.
You chuckle softly, charmed by his innocence, realizing heâs never encountered a condom before. Itâs endearing, really, how sheltered his underwater world has been.
âItâs a condom. Itâs for protection,â you explain gently, feeling a mix of tenderness and amusement at his innocence. âYou put it on your cock. Iâm on birth control, but it never hurts to be extra safe,â you assure him, deciding to take the lead and offer to help him put it on.
As you attempt to open the foil packet, he intercepts your movement with a smirk, halting you with his hand. âNot now. I want to taste you first. Can I? And will you let me know if you like it or not? Iâve never tried it before,â he trails off, his voice soft and endearing. Itâs moments like these that make you realize just how charming he can be.
His hands find purchase on your hips, and with a deliberate tug, he pulls your pants down, leaving you bare in your underwear. His gaze travels over you, from your eyes down to your dripping cunt, igniting a fire of anticipation in your core.
âYour panties are wet.âÂ
You chuckle in response, a mix of excitement and nervousness dancing in your eyes as you obediently part your legs wider, inviting him in with a playful yet anticipatory smirk.
âThatâs because Iâm aroused,â you confess, your voice barely a whisper as his touch sends a delicious shiver down your spine, your anticipation building with every electrifying caress of his hand against your hip bone and down to your pussy.
âYou can remove it,â you whisper, your voice husky with desire, as you arch your back, offering yourself to him, a silent invitation. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slides your panties down your legs, revealing your glistening pussy to the dimly lit cave, the anticipation thickening the air between you.
He lowers himself between your parted legs, his touch sending shivers up your spine as his hands explore the soft skin of your thighs, eliciting playful giggles from your lips. With agonizing slowness, his fingertips inch closer to your aching pussy, your body aching with desire, yearning for his touch. You find yourself silently begging for him to make contact, your entire being consumed by the anticipation of his caress.
âPlease, Jungkook,â you implore, your voice trembling with urgency and longing, âI need to feel you, your touchâwhether itâs your fingers or your mouth, I donât care. Just touch me.â
As he gazes into your eyes, his expression filled with desire and understanding, he delicately traces his index finger over your sensitive clit. The sensation overwhelms you, eliciting a strangled gasp of his name, your body responding eagerly to his touch.
With each gentle stroke of his finger over your clit, you canât help but release a soft moan, your body instinctively responding to his touch. Sensing your pleasure, he continues, his movements becoming more confident as he circles and rubs your clit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
As your breath quickens and your body trembles with anticipation, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain control, your legs quivering with need. Sensing your urgency, he gently guides your legs apart with his free hand, allowing him better access to your pussy.
He watches, entranced, as your clit pulsates, the rhythmic flexing and relaxing of the muscle a mesmerizing sight. The vision of your arousal sends a jolt of desire through him, making his own need painfully evident.
âYou can put a finger in,â you pant, your voice trembling with need, eyes wide and pleading for more.
He looks up, his eyes searching yours, âAre you sure?â he asks, his voice a husky whisper filled with both concern and anticipation.
You bite your bottom lip, a soft groan escaping your throat. âYes, Jungkook,â you breathe, your voice laced with desperate longing, âI want your fingers inside me now.â
With the hand that was expertly teasing your clit, Jungkook slides it down to your slick folds, marveling at how you glisten in the moonlit cave. He gently positions his index finger, then slowly, almost tantalizingly, pushes it inside you, making you gasp at the intimate sensation.
The pleasure hits you instantly, a surge of desire overwhelming your senses. You crave more, each second intensifying your need, as if every nerve in your body is crying out for him.
âWow,â he breathes, mesmerized by the sight of his finger slowly disappearing into your hole, his eyes wide with awe and desire.
Mesmerized, he begins thrusting his finger in and out of you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your sweet noises of pleasure fill the cave, encouraging him. After a moment, he looks up, his voice husky with desire, âCan I add another one?â
You nod, and another finger slips into your pussy, stretching you just a bit more. The sensation is intoxicating, yet you crave so much more. Youâre trying to maintain control, to let him take his time, but the need inside you is almost overwhelming.
âPlease,â you whisper urgently, your voice trembling with desire, âadd a third finger and use your other hand to play with my clit.â You crave the sensation, the stretch, the readiness for his cock, your need palpable in every word.
With a swift motion, you unhook your bra, allowing it to slip to the ground. His movements pause as his gaze fixes on your exposed chestâyour nipples standing pert and proud, a silent invitation to his touch.
As his gaze reluctantly leaves your exposed chest, he resumes his attention on you, the third finger sliding into you with a gasp of pleasure escaping your lips at the welcomed stretch. His thumb, slick with your juices, finds your clit once more, initiating a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Breathless and on the edge of ecstasy, you manage to muster the question, your voice filled with awe and admiration, âAre you sure you havenât done this before? Because youâre really good at it.â
His laughter dances in the air, a melody to your unraveling pleasure. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you with a perplexed frown until you see him drawing nearer, his tongue tracing the contours of your pussy.
You surrender to the ecstasy, tossing your head back as waves of pleasure wash over you, relishing the sensation of his velvety tongue caressing every contour of your quivering folds and sending electric pulses of delight through your clit.
With a hunger that matches your own, he envelops your clit, his mouth becoming a vortex of ravenous need, as he sucks and teases, drawing forth the essence of your desire and savoring every drop of your arousal with a fervent devotion.
With an almost expert touch, he draws your sensitive bud into his mouth, creating a vortex of sensation that sends electrifying pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. Each suction brings you closer to the edge, igniting a fiery intensity that threatens to consume you entirely. As you pant and gasp, your senses reel with the impending release, the anticipation coiling tighter within you like a spring ready to unleash its pent-up energy.
Your fingers trace the curves of your breasts, igniting a trail of sensation that sends shivers down your spine. With each touch, you feel the heat building within you, a primal urge demanding release. Your fingertips dance over your nipples, teasing them to attention, and you canât help but respond with a symphony of gasps and moans.
Jungkookâs gaze flickers up, drawn to the symphony of your movements, your gasps and moans orchestrating a melody of desire. Yet, he remains steadfast in his task, his lips and tongue weaving a spell of ecstasy as he devours you with hunger, like he has done this many times before. Itâs as though heâs an artist, each stroke of his tongue a masterpiece, each flicker of his lips a masterpiece of passion.
As your body arches and trembles with impending release, youâre acutely aware that the peak of ecstasy is just within reach. âJungkook,â you gasp, your voice a fervent plea, âIâm... Iâm going to come.â
With his deep chuckle vibrating against your most sensitive spot, youâre overcome by the intoxicating blend of sensations. In an instant, your world explodes into a symphony of pleasure, your fingers tangling in his ebony locks, anchoring you to the dizzying whirlwind of ecstasy as he eagerly savors every drop of your essence.
With a gentle and tender gaze, he pulls away, his features adorned with a shimmer of your essence. âWas this alright?â he murmurs, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, yet his eyes brimming with warmth and adoration. With a gasp of disbelief, you draw him into a passionate kiss, savoring the mingling taste of yourself on his lips, yet your heart races with an electric thrill. âIt was perfect,â you murmur against his mouth, your voice laden with sincerity and longing, sealing the moment with fervent intensity.
âNow you can fuck me,â filled with need, you voice your desire, urgency coloring every syllable, as you reach for his shirt and hastily pull it over his head. Your fingers fumble with the foil packet, opening it with a sense of anticipation, before your hand finds his still-hard cock.
With careful precision, you slide the condom over his dick, a tangible barrier between you and raw desire. As you spread your legs, creating space for him, his cock hovers tantalizingly close to where you ache for him most. In his gaze, you detect a mixture of longing and uncertainty, silently seeking your permission to proceed.
You take control, grasping his cock firmly and guiding it to your eager entrance. With a whispered instruction, you urge him to press forward, âPush a little, but slowly.â
As he nods in agreement, a determined glint ignites in his eyes. With gentle yet purposeful movements, he starts to ease his cock into the welcoming warmth of your eager pussy, each inch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, stretching you deliciously with every inch gained.
His breath hitches, voice laced with wonderment, âWow. Youâre so tight,â he pants, his words punctuated by the sensation of more and more of his dick disappearing into the velvety depths of your cunt, a symphony of pleasure enveloping you both with each inch he claims.
âGod, youâre big,â you pant back, a mixture of excitement and anticipation lacing your voice as you try your best to relax, welcoming the exquisite stretch and fullness as he almost fills you up, every inch of him stirring a delicious ache within you.
Finally, heâs completely inside, and you release a shaky breath you didnât even realize youâd been holding, feeling every pulsing inch of him deep within you, a rush of sensation flooding your senses as you revel in the delicious fullness he provides.
âYou can move now,â you encourage him with a smile, eager anticipation shimmering in your eyes as you invite him to explore the depths of pleasure with each rhythmic thrust.
âHow? Youâre hugging me so tight,â he groans in pleasure, his voice tinged with uncertainty, as if seeking your direction amidst the waves of sensation coursing through both of you.
âFeel how we fit together?â you whisper, your hands tenderly guiding his hips. âJust move your hipsâback and forth. Follow the rhythm of our bodies, and trust me, itâll be amazing.â
âI already feel so good.â
He starts with a gentle push, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. With each thrust, he delves deeper, igniting an electric dance between your bodies, and you canât help but moan in bliss.
âDonât stopâfaster,â you urge him on, and he responds with a surge of intensity, each thrust echoing in the cavern, a symphony of desire enveloping you both.
Your hands abandon his ass and hips once youâre satisfied heâs got the rhythm, his every thrust hitting that perfect spot, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.
You moan his name, the sound igniting a primal response in him, his grunts mingling with your name, creating a symphony of passion in the cave.
âKeep goingâharder,â you plead, your voice laced with urgency and desire. With each thrust, he drives into you with unyielding force, your back meeting the rough cave wall, igniting a primal intensity that leaves you breathless. You know thereâll be marks and scratches later, but at this moment, all you care about is the raw, primal pleasure heâs giving you.
âYes!â you scream, your voice echoing against the walls of the cave, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to clutch his strong biceps for leverage. The intricate tattoo sleeve he has on his right arm, flexing with the strength he puts into his thrusts. With each powerful movement of his hips, he plunges deeper into you, igniting a primal fire that consumes both of you in an insatiable frenzy.
â___. I think Iâm going to come soon,â he confesses, his voice strained with pleasure, his brows furrowing in anticipation of the impending release.
âMe too. Shit. Are you sure youâve never done this before?â you gasp out, your disbelief mingling with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. His skill and passion feel too seasoned for a first-timer, leaving you both questioning the truth of his innocence.
âIâm just a fast learner,â he teases, his lips finding solace on one of your exposed nipples, eliciting a fervent moan of his name from you.Â
He sucks and nibbles at it, all while hitting your soft spot with precision. Itâs an onslaught of sensation, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, threatening to unravel at any moment.
With a tantalizing pop, he releases your nipple, only to lavish the same attention on its twin. His kisses, licks, and sucking send ripples of pleasure through your body, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.
Thatâs it. Youâre gonna come again.
âFuck, Kook,â you cry out, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you as you surrender to the torrent of ecstasy, your pussy releasing your liquid and pulsating around his cock, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you with the breakneck speed heâs moving his hips at.
âDamn, how did you just get even tighter?â he groans, his voice strained with pleasure, his primal urges driving him to the brink of ecstasy. You feel his urgency, knowing heâs teetering on the edge of release.
âFuckââ he pants, his breath ragged and erratic. Then, he stutters, his movements turning feral for a moment as you feel his cock twitch inside your pussy, and he releases into the condom, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.
He stills inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he puts all of his weight into his arms. You gaze at him with a smile, your hand finding his cheek, gently pulling him closer to you, a silent reassurance in your touch.
You kiss him tenderly, the intimacy lingering in the air as your lips meet in a long and deep embrace. When you finally part, your breath mingling, you whisper softly, âI loved every moment of it.â
âMe too,â his voice carries a gentle exhaustion, mirroring the weariness you also feel settling in. You share a quiet moment, the weight of your shared passion and pleasure evident in the silence that follows.
As he gradually softens inside you, he withdraws gently. You swiftly retrieve the condom, deftly disposing of it with a practiced flick, tossing it into the depths of the cave, a silent testament to the intimacy shared in this hidden sanctuary.
âCan we do it again?â he pleads, his eyes ablaze with desire, each word heavy with anticipation, begging for another swim into ecstasy.
âYeah, Iâd love that,â you murmur, pressing your lips to his once more, the promise of another intimate time igniting a fire within you both.
âBut maybe we can go for a swim first?â you suggest with a playful glint in your eyes as you feel your breathing gradually returning to normal.
His expression shifts to one of surprise. âYou want to swim? Iâll revert to my merman form thenâŚâ
You gently grasp his cheek, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze echoing your sincerity. âI love you, whether youâre in your merman or human form. I love all of you. And yes, I want to swim with you. You know how much I love being in the water.â
As he eases into your proximity, he nods, inching towards the water within the cave. With a mesmerizing display, a cascade of sparkle and glitter dances in the air as his legs seamlessly meld into a majestic purple tail. Your jaw drops, captivated once again by the breathtaking sight of his merman form, each time feeling like the first time you saw him like this.
He gracefully glides into the water with a splash, and you eagerly trail behind, tentative at first, dipping your toes into the cool embrace, then succumbing to the gentle caress that envelops your entire naked form.
You swim alongside him, venturing beyond the confines of the cave, out into the vast expanse of the open sea. The ocean stretches endlessly, meeting the horizon in a seamless blend of moonlit waves. Above, the sky is a tapestry of stars, each one twinkling like a promise of infinite possibilities. Though your house is a distant silhouette against the shore, it fades from your thoughts in the enchantment of this moment.
As you glide through the water beside him, the gentle rhythm of his tail occasionally breaking the surface with playful splashes, you find yourself drawn to the mystery of his world. âIâd love to see your home someday,â you say, the words carried away by the ocean breeze, mingling with the soft lullaby of the waves.
âYeah. I know a witch that can turn you into a mermaid, if you really want to,â he says with a big smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as they meet your surprised gaze, mirroring your astonishment with his own excitement.
Your eyes widen with wonderâ the thought of becoming a mermaid, a cherished childhood dream, suddenly within reach. âIâd love that,â you breathe, your voice filled with an intoxicating mix of excitement and disbelief, as if daring the universe to make this fantasy a reality.
â Disclaimer: the banner is obviously partly made with AIâ I just want to point that out, to clear the air. Iâd normally never use AI in my work, but for this specific fantasy series, I just came up really sort with making them myself with pre existing images of bangtan đ Because I want a certain aesthetic (no, a moodboard is not what I was looking for), I decided to use AI to crunch out the mermanâ I did not, and I repeat this, I did not write any of their names for the prompts, which is also why I do not want to show any faces in these banners, because I know how the guys feel about making AI with them, and I agree. Which is why, this is in short just generically made images that are prompted by a scene in the story. In the end, I still made the bannerâ did retouching, color grading, added and/or removed stuff, added background etc. Just to let you know. Normally, all my banners and graphics are 100% made by me, unless otherwise stated! (lol, what I mean here is that Iâm making them myself, I still use stock photos and vectors made by others in my work sometimes (the banners)).
Š @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please donât copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story đĽ°
#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook smut#jeongguk smut#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fluff#jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook fic#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfic#jjk fic#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jungkook merman#bts x reader#bts x you#bts smut#bangtan smut#bangtan x reader#bts fic#bangtan fic
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HIDE Nâ SEEK FT. GOJO SATORU
summary- you and your boyfriend decide to play a little game of hide and seek at a halloween party
content warnings include- modern au, a little plot but mostly smut lmao, oral m!receiving, throat fucking, shoe humping, fingering, a little groping from gojo, sorta needy!gojo but heâs also pretty mean, unprotected sex, rough sex, tongue sucking bc iâm obsessed w it rn, squirting, creampie, geto is a perv, rushed ending, not proofread /// wc: 3.1k
a/n- hi!!! iâm back kinda from my hiatus so pls enjoy this bc idk when the next time i post will be lmao
���Ë. âĄ.đĽ Ý Ë âšË. âĄ.đĽ Ý Ë âšË. âĄ.đĽ Ý Ë
gojo <3: i see you.
your heart rate began to pick up as you read the ominous text from your boyfriend. your eyes looked in every direction hoping to see someone in a ghost face mask on their phone, but unfortunately no such luck.
âwhy did i agree to do this . . . so stupid,â you grumbled to yourself as you shoved your phone in the back pocket of your sexy nurse costume. to add a little context you and your darling boyfriend, gojo satoru, thought it would be fun to play a little game of hide and seek at the costume party/bonfire one of his friends was throwing. you hide he seeks. the only catch was neither of you could have your location on and you werenât allowed to tell anyone about the game. all you had to do was make sure gojo didnât âtagâ you before midnight. simple right? not.
you had thought nothing of it when he said he was going to be ghostface come to find out more than half the people at the party were dressed as the masked killer. it was easy to spot you of courseâwith your skin tight red and white dress and red stockings but trying to decipher which one of these people were gojo was simply impossible.
gojo was standing a few feet away from you, a sinister smile on his lips. he could see how frustrated you were becoming and boy was it a cute sight to see. your brows were furrowed and your red, glossed up lips were pulled into an adorable pout. you had the slightest tinge of fear in your eyesâbetween that and your costume he was becoming more riled up as the minutes ticked by.
you glanced at your phoneâ
11:42 PM
only eighteen more minutes and you were golden! you glanced at the part of the woods where it was dark and unoccupied with any party goers, without a second thought began to walk over to finish up the rest of the time. little did you know gojo was trailing behind you, quietly giggling at how silly you were for making this so easy for him.
âsâfreezing out here,â your hands rubbed up and down your arms that were now covered in goosebumps. the only sounds that could be heard was the bass of the music from the party and your feet crunching against the dead leaves and twigs on the ground along withâanother pair of footsteps???
you whipped around and were met with nothing but the party goers in the distance. you knew it was just a fun little game but you couldnât help the feeling of dread that overcame you. you had half a mind to text gojo and call off the game but with only ten minutes left you decided to stick it out.
after a minute your phone buzzed in your pocket.
gojo <3- found you :)
âwha-?â all a sudden your front was pushed into a tree, you felt someoneâs weight press against you along with something plastic poking against your throat. âi found youuu,â gojo giggled, pressing the plastic knife more into your neck. you pushed your backside into his hard on making him groan right into your ear. âno fair âtoruâŚcouldnât find you anywhere with all those people wearing the same costume,â you whined, slick beginning to stain your lacy white panties.
gojo hummed and without a second thought shoved his free glove covered hand into your panties, cupping your sensitive pussy. âcâmon baby you know i donât like to play fair letâs not act dumb hm?â you couldnât see his face but you knew just from the tone of his voice he was grinning from ear to ear. gojo used his middle finger to rub at your clit, giving you minor relief while he humped your ass. you both stayed like that for a moment before he began to grow bored.
âsuck my dick,â was all he said, removing his hand from your panties much to your dismay. âbutâbut âtoruââ you were cut off by gojo squishing your cheeks together roughly. he pushed you down by your shoulders, not caring that the twigs were scraping and poking against your soft skin. (donât worry heâll bandage you up later if need be <3)
ânow if you recall from earlier..â be began to unbuckle his belt, âwe agreed that whoever won got to do whatever they wanted with the loser right?â he waited for you to nod your head before continuing. he slowly unzipped his pants, pulling them and his briefs halfway down his toned thighs. âand whoâs the winner?â he giggled, tracing his almost painfully hard dick against your lips. you darted your tongue out to get just a little taste of him, making satoru visibly shudder. âyou, youâre the winner,â you mumbled, setting your hands in your lap.
gojo cradled your face his hands, fighting the overwhelming urge to rip off the ghostface mask and kiss you till you were breathless. âdonât look so sad babydoll, iâm about to fuck your throat and your little pussy so good letâs look alive yeah?â he gave your cheek a rough couple of pats. he brought his index and middle finger to your lips, âopen your mouth.â you parted your lips and with little to no warning gojo shoved the digits down your throat, impressed that you had kept your gags to a minimum. he rubbed your saliva around the length of his dick and gave himself a few quick strokes before pushing the tip against your lips.
you wrapped your lips around his dick and gojoâs hand immediately found purchase on the back of your head. âyeah . . . jusâ likeâfuck, l-like that,â although he was putting on a tough façade for the sake of the situation it was fading away quicker than he had anticipated. you were just so good with your mouth :(
you didnât even care that you lost, now too enamored in the pretty sounds that were slipping past gojoâs lips. and you both certainly didnât care that anyone could possibly catch you in the act. âi need to record this shit goddamn,â with shaky hands gojo held up his phone and started to record you, quietly apologizing for the sudden flash of light in your face. you played it out a little for the camera knowing gojo was definitely going to use this vid for times when heâs by himself. you wrapped both of your hands around his dick and worked quick pumps around the tip while your other hand moved slowly up and down the base.
satoru felt his knees buckle a little when you started sucking on his balls, nearly dropping his phone in the process. âyouâre s-so fuckinâ hot, so hot nâ a-all mine yeah? please say it,â he didnât give the slightest fuck how pathetic he sounded. all needed in this moment was for you to tell him his dick belonged to you and you only and vice versa. âyes toru all yours,â you hummed leaving kisses around the base of his dick. that was all he needed to hear before he tossed his phone to the side and began to brutally fuck your poor little throat.
each time your nose pressed against his pelvis from deep throating him it just gave him more incentive to put a fat rock on your finger and never let you go. your dress had ridden up and without even thinking gojo pressed the top of his shoe against your cunt making your hips jerk forward. âhump it, hump my fuckinâ shoe and cum from it,â his âdemandâ was shaky and breathless but nonetheless you listened to your boyfriend and started humping his shoe.
between gojo still ruthlessly fucking your throat and the laces of his shoe rubbing deliciously against your clit you were overstimulated beyond beliefâand it felt incredible. he loved when he could turn your brain into a pile of mush and you enjoyed it just as much. after holding your head firmly against his pelvic area for god knows how long gojo removed your mouth from his dick, finally letting you get some air. you didnât know if it was alcohol, the blunt you took a few hits of, or just horniness in its purest form but you were feeling insatiable.
you wrapped your arms around his thick thigh and planted your knees firmly into the ground before moving your hips with quickness. gojo was surprised at your actions, his dick visibly twitching at you getting off on his fucking shoe of all things. âiâmâiâm close, can feel it toru iâmâo-oh my!â a sharp gasp left your lips when gojo began tapping his foot just the slightest. âjerk me off nâ letâs cum together,â you didnât need to be told twice as you wrapped your hand around the base of his dick, suckling on the tip as well to bring him even closer to his peak (and to avoid getting cum in your face/hair heh).
you both came in unison a chorus of moans and groans leaving both of your mouths. âthatâthat was good, youâre so good y/n câmere,â gojo was quick to pull you to your feet and pushed your back right against the tree that was shielding you both from any potential spectators. âi wanna kiss you so bad,â he spoke softly, cupping and massaging your breasts over your thin dress. âbut i really wanna fuck you with this stupid mask on,â gojo gripped your plush thighs and lifted you up with ease, you werenât even the littlest but surprised when his impatient ass practically ripped your panties in half trying to get them off.
âput it in for me,â gojo muttered, blindly shoving your tattered panties in his back pocket. you complied whispering out a little âanything for you toruâ before slowly swiping his sensitive tip between your pillowy soft folds. just as you were about to slide him in you heard voices and footsteps that sounded like they were getting closer and closer. âw-wait someoneâs coming!â you whisper-shouted but that didnât stop gojo from pushing his dick into you with one swift thrust. a broken moan emerged from your throat and you were quick your cover your mouth with both hands.
âput your fuckinâ hands down no oneâs gonna see us,â gojo hissed, his toes curling from how tight and hot you felt. you hastily removed your hands making gojo smile behind the mask. âthey might not s-see but theyâllâhah! hear us toruuu,â you whined burying your face in his neck.
gojo made sure your legs were securely wrapped around his waist before yanking the ghostface mask off, he pressed his lips against yours without missing a beat. âguess iâll just have to keep kissinâ ya to make sure you donât make to much noise yeah?â
âyeah . . . . youâre right.â
âšË. âĄ.đĽ Ý Ë âšË. âĄ.đĽ Ý Ë âšË. âĄ.đĽ Ý Ë
âdoâdo you guys *hiccup* here that?â a drunk, poor unknowing geto slurred out, his brows furrowing at the sound of grunts coming from the darker part of the woods. of course no one responded, too invested in literally anything else besides getoâs drunk ramblingsâplus his jason mask muffled anything he had to say.
geto pushed himself up from the log he was sitting on, nearly falling over in process. âguess iâll go look myselfâŚdickheads,â he muttered to himself, making his way over to the suspicious noises. he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a particularly loud groan and thatâs when it started to click. âholy shit . . . h-holy shââ
âsatoruuu!â
if geto was in his right state of mind he wouldâve turned around with a quickness and forget this ever happenedâbut heâs not. his feet stayed planted, not daring move an inch closer. he hadnât even realized be was starting to palm himself over his pantsâalready half hard. he could feel his heart in his throat as he took one step forward . . . and then another . . . anddd another.
he stopped once he could clearly hear the schlick schlick schlick noise of gojo pounding mercilessly into your poor pussy. he couldnât see much but he could hear everything. he could hear your cute little pants and whines as you tried to poorly keep quiet, he could hear gojo muttering what must have been dirty promises into your ear, but in his opinion the best thing he heard was how sloppily you and gojo were kissing.
anytime your moans were becoming louder and more high pitched gojo would smash his lips into yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth without warning. gojo sucked your tongue into his mouth, a groan rumbling in his chest when he felt you tighten around him. âyou taste like alcohol . . . you been drinking tonight love? is t-that why youâre being soâhah! fuckinâ loud? hm?â his ring and middle finger began toying with your clit and your lips started to tremble. hot, salty tears began to run down your cheeks making gojo giggle. âyouâre sâcute when you cry, please cry more for me,â he cooed licking at the never ending stream of tears flowing from soon to be bloodshot eyes.
âyouâreâyouâre such a *sniffle* p-perv âtoru,â you whined, tangling your fingers in his snow white locks. when you have a particularly harsh tug gojoâs knees buckled the tiniest bit, nearly making him lose his balance. âi see youâre feeling pretty mean huh? lets fix that . . . only thing i need you to feel is numb.â gojo removed his fingers from your clit and without warning shoved the digits between your lips. man oh man did you wish he wouldâve taken those stupid gloves off, what you really needed in this moment was the feeling of gojoâs soft fingertips prodding at the back of your throat.
gojo slowed the pace of his thrusts, more focused on fucking your throat with his fingers. once he had his fix he removed his fingers from your mouth, smearing any excess saliva on your lips and chin. he slowly pulled his dick out, the moonlight mixed with the dim light from the bonfire making him glisten with your slick.
ân-no! no no donât do that here someone will definitely hear me âtoru,â you pouted, knowing good and well what gojoâs intentions were. gojo hummed as he rubbed his fingers between your soaked folds, pretending to to thinking about the consequences of his actions before giggling once more. âoh well!â he smiled, inserting his fingers into your pussy, immediately finding that spot that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
âgod do you hear how wet you are? such a slutty fuckinâ pussy goddamn,â gojo growled, adding his thumb to the mix by rubbing your almost painfully sensitive clit. you didnât know how the fuck he was holding you so steady with one arm but you couldnât even bother to care, too focused on your upcoming orgasm. âp-please . . . please add ânother finger âtoru i need it,â you gasped loudly, back arching against the tree when you felt gojo begin to suck at your breasts over the thin material of your dress. gojo added another finger, increasing his pace until he felt your legs begin to shake.
he brought his lips close to your ear, nibbling and sucking at the lobe. âyouâre so lucky we have to walk in front of everyone once weâre done or i wouldâve torn this dress to pieces,â his words had your toes curling, and your eyes rolling back for the umpteenth time as your pussy squeezed around his fingers.
while you were quickly chasing your peak geto was trying his absolute hardest not to reach his just yet. his pants were pulled down just enough to let his aching dick out and he wasted no time stroking himself to your pretty moans.
it was no secret to the three of you that geto had found you attractiveâshit with the way gojo boasts about your guysâ sex life how could he not be curious??? yes curiosity. thatâs all that this was. once he got off he would walk away and never think or speak of it ever. but he couldnât help but think of the next time he sees you walking around with a limp and accidentally starts to wonder what positions gojo couldâve possible put you in . . . or wonder how brutally he had fucked your throat when he hears how hoarse your voice sounds.
his thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched moan that was quickly cut off by what he assumed was gojoâs lips on yours. he heard gojo say in a teasing tone âyou tryinâ to baptize me over here?â and he nearly cummed imagining your fucked out face and trembling legs.
a spurt of cum landed on your thigh and gojo tsked, shaking his head. âthat wonât do, gotta be inside you now so i can finish inside,â he hummed, realigning his dick with your entrance. he pushed in with one swift thrust and thatâs when your finally felt your brain turn into a muddled pile of nothing but lust and want. although it was dark gojo could still see the dazed look in your eyes and it brought a blissed out smile to his lips, which were now stained red from your lip gloss.
âcâmon baby talk to me, how do you feel?â gojo purred, pressing his forehead against yours. your words kept getting caught in your throat and all you could mutter out was a pathetic âfeels sâgoooodâ. gojo could slowly feel himself begin to crumble, mumbling out incoherent sentences along with you. âi know baby iâshit, i know. feel so good âround me, so perfect youâre so perfect gimme a kiss,â he smushed his lips against yours with a clash of tongue and teethâhis fav kinda kisses.
âgotta big load for you baby, câmon cum with me i know you can do it,â gojoâs words of encouragement finally brought you to your peak and this time you both just let it out. every pushed down moan and groan could be heard from anywhere if anyone paid close enough attention but neither of you could find it in you to care. gojoâs hips stilled as he emptied himself inside you, his tongue lolling out in the process. you were quick to bring your hands to his soft locks, gently scratching his scalp. âdonât do that, gonna make me too tired for the drive home,â he chuckled, giving your sweaty neck a sloppy kiss.
âspeaking of, how am i supposed to walk with all this in me itâs a lot satoruuu,â you whined, feeling the urge to smack gojo on the back of the head for tearing your panties in two. gojo sighed, stroking your bare thigh gently with his thumb muttering something along the lines of âiâll handle itâ.
while you and gojo took a minute to regroup from your intense fuck session, geto was regrouping himself from possibly the most intense orgasm heâs ever had. of course he felt disgusted with himself for spying on his best friend fucking his girlfriend but he also wanted more???
this was definitely going to be a problem.
#my writing#gojo smut#satoru smut#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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đđśđťđ¸đđźđŻđ˛đż đŽđŹđŽđ°: đđđťđđ˛đą
Word Count: 4.3 K (I told you, It's been in my head for a long time)
Warnings: Jeong Yunho x sub!fem reader, Haunting Adeline AU, DUB-CON, partial somnophilia, unprotected sex, olfactophilia (scent play), sexual persuasion, stalker!yunho, oral (fem receiving), possessiveness, nipple play, jealousy, fear play, manipulation, kissing, biting, marking, praise (princess, good girl etc) and body worship.
Warning: 18+ only of course. This is a DARK FIC and it contains taboo and dark depictions of abuse that could be triggering. If you choose to read further, then you have heeded this warning and I hold no responsibility for your emotional well-being.
No sound was more loud and teeth-chattering than the wind howling
The night used to be your friend, a safe space, a creative outlet for your inner world and thoughts.
But now it felt like it was taunting you, teasing you as you held the coffee mug in your frozen hands, forcing yourself to stay awake as the minutes felt slow and agonising.
You prayed for the comfort of being alone now knowing you weren't...ever.
For He was always there.
Another rose was found on the coffee table this morning, all fresh and pruned with the thorns removed and a piece of paper wrapped around the stem.
The delicate handwriting revealed the next mission of this uninvited presence and it caused you to feel a sense of uneasiness you've never felt before.
My patience is running thin. I'll be with you tonight, my princess. Yunho
You silently walked over to the window that was uncovered by the drapes, watching the raindrops fall on the glass as you peered outside to gaze at the shrubbery and looming pine trees.
You hid in the shadows, trying not to reveal your face as you peered out the front of your domain, no sign of civilian life around you at all.
There was fear inside of you, fear of your safety and for your life sure but there was anticipation and curiosity.
Probably a lot less fear than you should have for the stalker who's found you, isolated you and admittedly-cared for you.
Your eyes lock onto the shadow formation in the bushes, your heart racing as you found your dark knight.
His tall, lithe build standing there in the heavy rain, covered in black and the hood of his parka covering his face except for a small sliver that revealed the plumpness of his lips and defined cupid's bow.
The one that has been sending you roses month after months, all pruned with pieces of paper tied around the stem.
The one that has been leaving nicely-packaged gifts on the empty side of your bed, all wrapped in crimson paper with a pretty rose on top.
All containing gifts of the highest quality such as perfume, a silver necklace with the 'Y' initial, makeup, sanitary products (how did he even know when your cycle was?), panties.
The latest one was an oversized plain, black t-shirt that smelt of musk and cologne, it smelt like he had worn it, slept in it...some perverted part of you wondered if he had worn it whilst jerking off with you in his mind- what was he even thinking about doing to you?
All the messages he gifted to you all revealed the same desires but with sickly, sweet words.
How he yearns for you. How he loves you, how he just wants to protect you, care for you, be your safety net from the cruelty of the world.
His desire to take you, claim you, ravage you, to bend and mould you to his will.
It felt like you were being courted and hunted for at the same time, were you to be his Queen or a gilded bird locked in a cage?
The reality of the situation quickened when the shadow form moved, your eyes locked on how his lips turned into a twisted smirk and he lifted his right hand to offer you a slow, taunting wave.
You quickly dashed away from the window without bothering to close it, running to the middle living and dropping yourself in front of the glowing hearth- wrapping the blanket around your shoulders further tightly around your body.
Ring the police, scream, run...why aren't you doing this? You hadn't even locked the doors...why? What's wrong with you?
The truth was this man brought out a perverted joy in you, the joy of being wanted, of being pursued, a temptation stirred in your belly at what could happen tonight.
He wouldn't kill you (at least you hoped) and you were tired, burnt out, lonely...maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to let him in?
The thoughts were too much for your sleep-deprived brain to cope with and in front of the hearth with a pillow on the floor and your blanket wrapped around you.
You fell asleep.
You lost the game.
The room was steeped in darkness, the only light a faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. The air was thick with the kind of stillness that made everything feel suspended in time.
Yunho stood silently near your feet, watching you scrunch your nose up cutely whilst you were asleep on the floor with the hearth flame slowly turning into ash.
He had been watching you for what felt like hours, the corners of his lips curled in a faint, almost tender smile. There was something intoxicating about your vulnerability, the way you were completely unaware of his presence. You were so peaceful, so trusting in your sleep, and it stirred something dark and possessive within him.
Yunho moved closer, the floorboards creaking ever so slightly under his weight. His breath hitched as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your skin. He could feel the warmth radiating from you could almost hear the blood pulsing just beneath the surface. The urge to touch you, to claim you as his own, was overwhelming. Yet, he held back, savoring the moment, relishing in the power he had over you.
But he resisted, choosing instead to let his fingers trace a delicate line down the side of your face, his touch as light as a feather.
Your skin was soft, impossibly soft, and he could feel you shiver under his touch, your body reacting even in sleep. It was intoxicating, this power he held over you, this control. He could do anythingâanythingâand you would be helpless to stop him. The thought sent a thrill down his spine, dark and thrilling, as he leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear.
âMine,â he whispered, the word barely audible, but it sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively curling in on itself, as if trying to escape an unseen threat. Yunhoâs smile widened, satisfaction and something far darker curling in his chest. You were his, in every sense of the word, and tonight he would make sure you knew it.
As if sensing the shift in the air, your eyes flutter open, groggy and unfocused at first. You blink, your vision clearing, only to find Yunhoâs face inches from your own, his eyes dark and intense, filled with an emotion that sends a chill down your spine. Panic surges through you as you try to push yourself up, but Yunhoâs hand is already on your wrist, holding you in place with a grip that is firm yet strangely gentle.
âShhh,â he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but thereâs a sinister edge to it, a promise of something far more dangerous lurking beneath the surface. âDonât be afraid. Iâve been waiting for this moment.â
Your heart pounds in your chest, a wild, frantic rhythm that matches the fear rising within you. But thereâs something else too, something that makes your pulse quicken for an entirely different reason. His gaze is intense, burning with a possessive hunger that makes you feel both terrified and inexplicably drawn to him.
âWhat do you want?â you breathe, your voice trembling as you search his eyes for any hint of mercy, but all you find is that same dark intensity, a need that matches your own but twisted into something far more dangerous.
Yunhoâs smile is slow, almost predatory, as he leans in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, âYou. I want you, all of you. And Iâm not letting you go.â
The words send a shiver through you, a mix of fear and something far more dangerous, something that makes your pulse race with a heady mix of terror and desire. You know you should fight, should scream, should do anything to escape his hold, but all you can do is stare into his eyes, trapped in the dark, magnetic pull of his gaze.
And then, with a gentleness that belies the darkness in his eyes, Yunho releases your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulls back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe, to think, but not enough to escape. The room feels colder without his touch, and you realize with a start that a part of you misses the warmth, the connection, no matter how twisted it is.
âWhat are you going to do to me?â you whisper, your voice barely audible, your fear mixing with a curiosity you canât quite suppress.
Yunhoâs smile is slow, almost lazy, as if he has all the time in the world. âThat depends on you,â he replies, his voice soft but filled with a dangerous promise. âBut one thing is certainâyou wonât ever want to leave me. Not after tonight.â
The words hang in the air, heavy and full of meaning, as Yunhoâs gaze holds yours, daring you to resist, to fight, even as he knows you wonât. Not really. The darkness in him calls to something deep within you, something you hadnât known existed until this moment, something that responds to his possessiveness, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own.
And as the tension thickens between you, you realize with a start that youâre not entirely sure you want to resist. Not when the alternative is losing yourself completely to the dark, twisted allure of Yunhoâs obsession.
âYou donât have to be afraid,â he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but thereâs an edge to it, a raw, unfiltered need that makes your breath catch in your throat. âIâll take care of you my princess, Iâll give you everything youâve ever wanted⌠if you let me.â
His hand moves to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the frantic beat of your heart beneath his touch. You canât help the small gasp that escapes your lips as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin.
âIâve waited so long for this,â Yunho whispers, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. âFor you. You have no idea how much I want you.â
His dark hair frames his lashes and enhances the intensity of his gaze, the parka gone from his shoulders and now replaced by a black, long-sleeved henley shirt and his cheeks flushed red with desire.
His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer, his touch firm yet gentle, as if heâs afraid you might disappear if heâs too rough. But youâre not going anywhereâyou canât, even if you wanted to.
Thereâs a moment of hesitation, a brief second where you could pull away, where you could resist the pull of his gaze, the magnetic attraction that binds you to him.
'How I needed you'
His lips brush against yours, soft and tentative at first, and whatever resistance you might have had crumbles beneath the intensity of the moment.
The kiss is slow, deliberate, filled with a hunger that Yunho has kept restrained for far too long. His hand moves from your neck to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss, and you find yourself responding, your body leaning into him, craving the warmth and the connection despite the fear that lingers in the back of your mind.
Yunho groans against your lips, the sound vibrating through your entire body, sending a rush of heat pooling in your lower abdomen. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you even closer until thereâs no space left between you. The kiss becomes more urgent, more demanding, and you can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.
When he finally pulls back, youâre both breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to process what just happened. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-lidded, dark with desire as he looks at you like youâre the only thing that matters.
âYouâre mine,â he whispers, the words a possessive growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. âSay it.â
Thereâs no hesitation in your response, the words tumbling from your lips before you can even think to stop them. âIâm yours.â
Yunhoâs eyes flare with satisfaction, and then heâs kissing you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your body with a need that borders on desperation.
He drapes his body over yours and cements you to the floor, his body providing all the heat you needed as he kisses down your neck, his teeth clamping down on the skin and leaving a mark.
A dark chuckle leaves his breath as you moan at the sting, the sensation changing as he licks over it to soothe the pain before averting his attention to the base of your throat.
You could feel how hard he was as he grinded on your thigh, it aroused and terrified you about how big he felt, your imagination betraying you as the thought of how you would take him made your mouth water.
Fuck, you hoped he was nice enough to prep you or would he be mean and expect you to take that thick cock of his without any prep at all?
His hands tug at the fabric of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one fluid motion. You shiver as the cool air hits your skin, but the chill is quickly replaced by the heat of Yunhoâs touch as his hands explore every inch of you, memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips.
âYouâre so beautiful,â he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. âSo perfect.â
The praise sends a flush of heat through you, your body arching into his touch, craving more.
Your thoughts were undone when his hands cupped the curve of your breasts, squeezing them gently and kneading the flesh as a moan echoed from his throat.
'So soft, so full, just like how I imagined them princess' His voice was deep, raspy and filled with need as he leaned down and wrapped his lips around the bud, his tongue swirling and suckling as he kneaded the other one with his fingers.
Yunho could be buried in your tits all day and it would feel like heaven to him, his teeth scraping the edge as he pulled away with a thick, sucking noise before moving on to the other.
His lashes fluttered and his moans were beginning to sound like music to your ears, your hands gripping the surface beneath you as you stifled your moans, though you weren't not sure why- no one could hear you.
He pulled his mouth away from your swollen bud before reaching up to gently tilt your chin down so you could see him, his pupils blown-out and dilated- who was fucked more, you or him?
'Don't silence yourself- I need to hear you princess. You can try and fight this but I see the way you respond to me. You crave this as much as I do, even if you won't admit it'.
Your body shivered at those words as Yunho placed kisses down your naval, biting the skin every so often so your body was a myriad of his kisses and claims.
A squeal left your body as Yunho roughly pulled your hips to him, grabbing the fabric of your thin leggings and tearing the material near the crotch region.
You were fascinated at how he could tear the fabric with his bare hands, watching the veins in his hands, neck and forearms dance as he pulled the material roughly down your legs.
'I never want you this clothed when you're with me princess, I'm going to steal all the pants you own. Want you easy and pliable for when I come to your room and fuck you senseless every night'.
Yunho's eyes turned predatory and wild as he buried his nose in your panties, his hands holding down your hips and fingers kneading into the flesh.
The tip of his nose rubbed your clit through the material and your cheeks reddened at the sound of him inhaling your scent, a deep guttural groan resounded through the room.
"Mmm, you smell so sweet, baby. I could stay between your legs forever," Yunho growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands tightened around your hips as he pressed his nose harder against your clothed core, the warmth of his breath sending shivers through your body.
Your back arched involuntarily, a gasp slipping past your lips as he dragged his nose down, teasing the edge of your panties with his tongue. "You're trembling already, princess," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk. "I haven't even started."
Yunhoâs fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was dark, hungry, and it made your heart race in your chest. "Gonna ruin you, you know that, right?" His voice was low, full of promise, and it sent heat pooling between your thighs.
With your panties tossed aside, he wasted no time, his mouth finding its place against your bare skin. His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit, while his grip on your hips kept you pinned firmly in place. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve alight with pleasure as he worked you over with expert precision.
"Yunho..." you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, desperate for something to hold onto as your body began to quake beneath him. He hummed against you, the vibrations only adding to the intensity of your pleasure.
"You taste even better than I imagined," he groaned between licks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could make you come like this, princess, but I want you to beg for it first."
Your body bucked against him, desperate for more, but his grip tightened, keeping you in place. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Say it," he commanded, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me how bad you need me."
Your breath hitched, every part of you aching with want. "I need you, Yunho. Please... don't stop."
His eyes darkened even more, satisfaction washing over his features. "Good girl." Then, without warning, he dove back in, his tongue and fingers relentless as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the room filled with the sound of your breathless moans and his low growls.
You were lost in the haze of pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably as he devoured you, your release building until it was impossible to hold back. With a final cry, you shattered, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as Yunho held you through it, his mouth never letting up until you were completely spent beneath him.
Panting, you stared up at the ceiling, still dazed from the intensity of it all. Yunho wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking as he crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
"That's just the start, princess," he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "You better be ready for more."
Yunho pulled back from the kiss, his lips still hovering over yours, but his eyes were blazing with something darker. His fingers trailed over your flushed skin, gripping your throat just tight enough to send a pulse of fear through you, but it only heightened the intensity of the moment.
"You think this is enough?" he growled, his voice dripping with an edge of dangerous obsession. "No, baby, Iâm not even close to being done with you. Youâre mine, all of you. I donât care whoâs looked at you, touched you before. From now on, Iâm the only one who gets to claim you."
His hands roamed possessively over your body, fingers digging into your skin like he wanted to leave marksâlike he wanted to brand you as his. "Iâm going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, leaning in to nip at your ear. "Youâll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."
He leaned down, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat from your neck before sucking hard on the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. The bite of pain mixed with pleasure sent a shockwave through you, your body reacting instantly, but Yunho only grinned, like he could feel your helplessness.
"You think you can get away from me?" His voice was a low growl as he pressed his body flush against yours, trapping you beneath him. "You think you have any choice but to need me? No, baby, you belong to me. Iâll make sure of it."
His eyes flashed with something feral as he dragged his fingers down your body, his nails scraping just enough to leave faint red lines on your skin. "Iâll steal every last piece of you until there's nothing left for anyone else. You wonât be able to think about anyone but me."
He ripped his shirt off with one swift motion, revealing the sculpted muscle underneath, and his hands went to the button of his jeans, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he said, his voice gravelly and raw. "You're going to beg me, over and over, for more, and Iâll make sure you're dripping with nothing but me."
He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're mine. And Iâm going to remind you of that every night, every time you try to breathe without me."
His grip on you tightened, and his lips curved into a wild smirk. "Iâm going to make sure you never forget who owns you."
He had you locked underneath him, using his frame and height like the gilded cage he wanted to contain you in. He needed you to understand the size of him, his height, his strength and how he could overpower you in every single way.
Your eyes opened to see his shoes thrown on the floor and Yunho pulling down the zipper of his jeans, both of you naked and the hearth silhouetting Yunho's frame.
He looked like Hades who had crawled out of the shadows, an unworldly beauty only enhanced by the onyx of his eyes which were filled with an insatiable need, a need to brand you with his soul or whatever you were willing to fucking take of his.
His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he pumped himself, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was- long, thick and girthy and your mouth became dry from the thought of it inside you.
"Iâm going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, removing his hand to move your legs around his hips, "Youâll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."
You flinched at the feeling of the tip of his cock near your entrance, his other hand planted against the side of your face, his breath ghosted over your face he murmured against your lips.
"Tell me you're mine again, princess. Say it'.
Your pulse raced, the intensity of his words wrapping around you like a vice. "I'm yours, Yunho," you gasped, your voice trembling with both fear and need.
He thrust into you without warning, the possessiveness in every movement making your mind spin. Each thrust was a declaration, a reminder that Yunho wasnât just taking youâhe was claiming every part of you, stamping his presence on your body, heart, and soul. The world outside faded until there was nothing but him, his heat, his grip, his hunger.
'Ahh, you feel like heaven' He moaned out in ecstasy before kissing you feverishly, the swipes of his tongue matching the pace of his hips 'you're my heaven'.
A changed position has you beginning to drool for him as he drops this knees down, grabs your thighs and pushes them towards your chest, angling his hips higher and grinding over your clit.
'You're my life, I'd live for you, I'd- ahhh! I'd kill for you, I'd murder everyone in the whole world if it keeps you safe and with me'.
The overwhelming intensity of his movements drove you to the edge, and soon you were unraveling beneath him, your body quaking as he pulled you deeper into the ecstasy.
As you cried out his name, your voice hoarse from the pleasure, Yunho groaned, his own release following not long after. He held you tight, as if letting you go now would be impossible.
Yunhoâs grip remained firm as he buried his face against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. The way his body pressed into yours felt overwhelming, suffocating even, as though he was trying to imprint himself on every inch of your skin.
When he finally pulled back, his breath heavy and eyes dark, Yunho stared down at you with something that made your blood run cold. His thumb traced your lips, slow and possessive, his gaze never wavering. "You can try to get away," he murmured, his voice low and almost too calm. "But no one knows you like I do. No one will ever have you like this."
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in your chest like a vice. His lips ghosted over your ear, the air between you thick with tension. "Iâve been watching you for so long... you canât escape me now, princess."
The possessive tone in his voice was chilling, his eyes wild with a dark obsession. There was no softness here, no tendernessâonly the certainty that he wasnât letting go.
"Iâll always be watching. Always." His grip tightened slightly as if to remind you that he was never far away.
Happy surprise party gift to you from me! This is a sneak peek into next month's Kinktober and the fics won't be as long as this but thank you to everyone who supported me with posting this- I'm about to go to sleep because I'm so nervous.
I'm going to include my taglist and ppl who commented on my post regarding this fic- only read if you're interested.
Taglist: @mykryptonitelight @cursedeastern @sugarnspice630 @ja3hwa @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @gyuhanniescarat @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @laylasbunbunny @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @i-love-ateez @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo @smilefordongil @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @almightyddeonghwa @planet-dawn
#ateez fic#ateez smut#ateez#yunho x reader#jeong yunho x reader#yunho fic#yunho smut#kinktober 2024#ateez x reader#atz yunho#ateez fanfic#yunho fanfic#ateez x y/n#ateez hard hours#dark fic#ateez yandere#yandere fic
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Time is a Fickle Thing
Girl Dad!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Spencer realizes how important it is to occupy the present and be active in the little things Trope: Fluff & Comfort w.c: 1.48k a/n: this was inspired by an essay I read over the week titled âLearning to Measure time in Love & Lossâ by Chris Huntington. Itâs very profound so I would suggest you go read itâAndrew Garfield also read it on the podcast called âModern Loveâ so go listen to that too. Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! đ masterlist
There was still an array of paperwork to be done in his desk at Quantico. Case files that needed to be written down and reviewed by his unit chief, Emily.
The past Dr. Spencer Reidâthe one who was still wet behind the ears and green in the eyes of his team members, would have found the droll of filling out forms therapeutic. But now at his age of 40, everything elseâtyping out information and grading essays, were chores that demanded his every waking attention. He had found himself agitated with the looming workload that seemed never ending.
âDaddy,â a sweet voice murmured beside him. The sourceâa small body nestling closer to his side.
He hummed in reply, absentmindedly as his brain was preoccupied with estimating how many hours he needed to finish checking submissions in lieu of sleep.
Tiny hands patted his cheeks. âDaddy,â the sweet voice now coated with a hint of urgency.
Spencerâs hazel eyes locked with a pair of replicas. âYes, Aurora?â
âWhat happens next?â
Shaking his head, he glanced down at her choice for a bedtime story, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and realized it was the end of a chapter. Reading together was a sacred ritual he formed ever since he had found out you were pregnant.
It made you giggle when you pointed out that she, still a fetus cocooned safely in your body, would not understand the works of The Giving Tree or The Rainbow Fish. He rattled of statistics that although she couldnât understand the meaning, she could still hear quite well.
In truth, he wanted her to know himâhis voice, his presence. Her father who was quite scared to bring in an innocent into the world.
Still, scared even.
Her pink bottom lip jutting out into a frown, reminiscent of the âlookâ his wife gives to him that renders him speechless and pliable to demands.
It was fascinating how you and him created such a perfect combinationâa seven year old daughter who was into reading, as he was, and confident, as you were.
âDaddy, what happens next?â
The corners of his mouth lifted into a smile. The look of exasperation on her tiny face was adorable.
Everything about her was captivating.
âWell, sweet pea,â he began to close the book. âThat would be a story for another night.â
âButââ
âRemember what we promised?â
She sighed, gripping her white bunnyâa gift from Aunt Penelope, closer. âOne chapter only.â
âThatâs right,â tucking the stray tendrils away from her angelic face.
As he started to stand up from his precarious lying position on her gingham patterned bed, Auroraâs tiny warm hands gave his sleeves a double tug.
âYouâre forgetting something, Daddy.â
He leaned in to give her forehead a kiss.
âIs that it?â He teased.
She giggled, her feet kicking under the covers. âNo!â
Brushing his fingers behind her neckâher tickle spot that matched yours. âWhat about this one?â
Aurora squealed, her infectious happy energy warming his heart. She was a treasure and he felt blessed to be considered her father.
âStop Daddy, stop!â She sat up, hands crossing over her chest to state she meant business.
Spencer conceded, showing his hands in front of himâa sign of surrender. If she was standing, he could just imagine her little foot stomping on the ground and taking in a wide stance she learned from observing Uncle Morgan.
âMommy always said you never forget anything,â she argued. âShe said you have an ei-eidâperfect memory.â
âEidetic memory, Aurora, and yes, mommy is right.â
She tilted her head then, her wavy hazel hair swaying behind her. âThen how come you donât remember?â
âHow about giving me a clue then?â
She huffed. âBest part, worst part, Daddy! You forgot to ask me!â
Oh.
That was another ritual he added when Aurora started to learn how to string words along. Although there were nights away from a case that he could not read to her, he always made it a point to ask her via call the best and worst part of her day. It made him feel connected with her even though he was miles away.
âOh how could I forget, sweet pea,â Spencer sat back on the bed, tucking her back as he went. âNow, can I know what your worst part is?â
She went silent for a moment. Deep in thought, brows scrunching together.
âWhen Mommy didnât allow me to wear my new rain boots to school. She said itâs because it wasnât raining but I really wanted to wear them.â
He laughed, having heard of the small disagreement you had which made you late for work. âWe only wear rain boots when the weather is sad, remember?â
Aurora nodded.
âAnd what about the best part?â
She smiled, the answer quickly spilling out of her. âThis is, Daddy.â
Spencer could feel the effect her simple words had to his system. It warmed his heart that expanded for two when she came into the world. It put a halt to any train of thought in his brain.
âWant to know a secret?â He whispered. âThis is mine too.â
Tiny hands rubbed her drooping eyes before further nestling in her bed. âGood night, Daddy. I love you.â
He slowly crept out of the room.
âI love you too,â he flicked the light off and closed the door behind him.
Spencer found himself repeating those words and slowly lamenting over missed milestones in her burgeoning life.
Her first steps.
Her first tooth falling out.
Her latest family presentation in school in which you recorded her explaining where he was and what he does for a livingâcatching bad guys.
In his focused dedication in trying to make the country a better place for her future, Spencer had forgotten to appreciate the present, her growth, and the very notion that time could not be reversed to live the mundane things that make everyday worth living.
Aristotle once said âtime crumbles things; everything grows old under the power of time and is forgotten through the lapse of time.â
It was a concept he was familiar with by the ripe age of nine, having spent his early youth in isolation and soaking up every thinking thought from the great minds that had roamed this planet before him.
He never forgot the wordsânot that his memory would allow him to.
And yet, as he found himself sitting on his desk, a cup of fresh tea in front of him, the phrase came to surface like a forgotten pair of lucky socks hidden within the depths of a cabinet.
Perhaps it was his heart that kept it hidden or better yet forgotten, a feat on its own. Perhaps during his tender age, he had yet sculpted the capacity to digest what it meant to his very soul.
Or perhaps, it was a sign from the unknown to focus and live in the present.
She was growing and becoming her very own person right before his unfocused eyes.
Spencer sighed, feeling a pair of arms glide to wrap around his shoulders.
âWhatâs got you so down, handsome?â You left a kiss on his cheek.
He intertwined your hands together. âItâs justâI missed out on so many milestones. Does that make me an absentee father?â
You walked around him before propping yourself on his lap. âI donât think so, Spence. Why? What brought this on?â
âI found myself thinking about work when I should be focused on spending timeâreading to Aurora. It made me feel sad that she was looking forward to our nightly routine and there I was, thinking about paperwork.â
There was a flash of sadness in your eyes as you caressed his cheek. âThatâs alright. We all have our moments, Spence. You just got caught up with life and the responsibilities it has given you,â a lithe finger twisted a loose tendril blocking hos vision. âI knowâwe know, Aurora and I, that you being busy doesnât mean you love us any less.â
âI just wish I wouldnât miss anymore, love.â
You trailed kisses all over his cheeks, the corners of his mouth, before landing perfectly on his awaiting lips. âAnd I know youâd try your best moving forward.â
âHave I told you I love you?â He teased, arms securely on your waist. âBecause I do and I feel lucky to have an understanding partner as you.â
âI love you too, Spence, and Aurora loves you too,â you giggled. âAnd between you and me, I think youâre still her favorite parent.â
Head thrown back, he laughed, thighs shaking from your admission. âItâs because I cave more to her whims more than you do.â
âWell, thereâs that too.â
You gave him another kiss.
âWe can try to be more present next timeâtogether. I wonât let you doubt yourself. Okay?â
âOkay.â
Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!
#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds oneshot#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic
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The Great Outdoors
Summary: Logan takes you on a camping trip, but his survival skills are hilariously outdated.
Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader
Genre             : Fluff
The sun was already dipping low behind the trees when Logan parked the truck. He got out like he was about to conquer the wild, while you stood there, looking at the woods and trying not to laugh at the seriousness on his face. Logan wasnât the camping typeâor at least, not the âmodernâ kind. He was more like the ârough it with nothing but your fists and clawsâ type.
This was going to be interesting.
âSo, whatâs the plan, Bear Grylls?â you teased, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.
Logan grunted, pulling out a rolled-up tent from the back of the truck. âSurvive. Thatâs the plan.â
You raised an eyebrow. âWow, so detailed. I feel so prepared.â
âDonât worry, sweetheart, Iâve done this a hundred times. Just follow my lead, and weâll be fine.â
Oh, boy.
You made your way into the clearing Logan had apparently scoped out beforehand. It wasnât bad, actuallyânice little spot near a river, surrounded by trees that rustled softly in the evening breeze. As soon as you set your stuff down, Logan got to work... sort of.
He started with the tent. You watched him as he unfolded it, frowning like the damn thing had personally offended him. âThese damn things get more complicated every year,â he muttered, trying to shove a pole into one of the sleeves.
âNeed some help?â you asked, biting your lip to keep from laughing as he wrestled with it.
âNah, I got it,â he grumbled, jamming the pole so hard it almost snapped.
Five minutes later, the tent was half-collapsed, one corner flapping in the wind, and Logan was cursing under his breath.
âI think itâs supposed to stand up, Logan.â
He shot you a look, then glanced back at the tent. âItâs fine. Iâm just, uh... testing its durability.â
You let out a snort, shaking your head. âRight. Maybe you should just let me handle that.â
âIâm a grown-ass man,â he muttered, glaring at the tent like it had insulted his mother.
âYeah, and youâre losing a fight to a piece of nylon.â
After another moment of watching him struggle, you stepped in and started putting the thing together while Logan, not exactly one for sitting still, decided to gather firewood. He disappeared into the woods with nothing but his claws, because why bring a hatchet when youâre Logan?
By the time he came back, arms full of sticks and logs, the tent was up and looking perfect. You leaned against it, smirking as he dropped the wood into a pile.
âSee?â you said, gesturing to the tent. âThatâs how itâs done.â
Logan grunted, clearly not impressed. âYeah, yeah. Letâs see you start a fire.â
You crossed your arms. âWatch and learn, old man.â
He grinned, that dangerous little glint in his eye. âOh, youâre gonna regret that.â
Logan, being Logan, didnât just gather some twigs and light them with a match like a normal person. No, that wouldâve been too easy. Instead, he pulled out his claws and crouched next to the fire pit, sparks flying as he struck them against a rock.
âLogan, thatâs not howââ
Whoosh!
The pile of wood lit up like someone had dumped gasoline on it. Flames shot up higher than you thought possible, and you stumbled back, laughing your ass off while Logan jumped up, cursing.
âGoddammit!â He swiped his claws through the air, trying to beat the flames down. âI meant to do that.â
âOh, sure,â you choked out between laughs, wiping at your eyes. âThatâs the perfect height for roasting marshmallows, right?â
Logan glared at the mini-bonfire for a second, then at you. âNext time, you can light the damn thing.â
You couldnât stop laughing, the sound of it bouncing around the trees. Logan finally cracked a smile, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff mutter.
After some careful maneuvering (read: Logan finally letting you fix the fire), you both settled down for the evening. The fire was low, crackling softly, the night air cool around you. Stars were starting to peek through the darkening sky, and the only sounds were the soft hum of the forest and Logan chewing on beef jerky.
You leaned back against a log, holding your hands out to the fire. âSo, what now? Gonna show me your impressive ghost story collection?â
Logan raised an eyebrow, gnawing on his jerky like a wild animal. âGhost stories? What are we, twelve?â
âCome on,â you teased. âEveryone knows camping isnât complete without ghost stories. Itâs like... the law.â
He scoffed but leaned back, his eyes glinting in the firelight. âAlright. You want a ghost story? Iâll give you one.â
âOh, this oughta be good.â
Logan cleared his throat dramatically. âSo... once upon a time... there was this girl. Thought she was real tough. Real smart.â
You narrowed your eyes. âIs this about me?â
âShhh, Iâm tellinâ a story here,â Logan said, smirking. âAnyway, she thought she could survive out in the wild with just a little olâ tent and her wit. But one night, she heard a rustling in the trees... something... watching her.â
You leaned in, playing along, even though you knew exactly where this was going. âOh, yeah? What was it?â
Loganâs eyes widened theatrically. âA bear! Big, ugly thing. Twice her size. It came into her camp, sniffinâ around, and you know what she did?â
You shook your head, grinning. âWhat?â
âNothing. She just froze. The bear ate all her snacks, tore up her tent, and left her sittinâ there in her own piss.â
You burst out laughing. âWow, Logan. Truly terrifying. 10/10. Iâm gonna have nightmares for weeks.â
Logan grinned, leaning closer. âI got more. Youâll be begginâ for mercy by the end of the night.â
You pushed his shoulder lightly. âYouâre such an ass.â
As the night deepened and the fire began to die down, you both retreated into the tent. It was surprisingly cozy inside, the faint warmth of the fire lingering outside while you snuggled into your sleeping bag. Logan stretched out beside you, his body taking up way too much space, but you didnât mind.
âComfy?â you asked, glancing at him as he wiggled around.
âLike a fuckinâ sardine,â he muttered, trying to adjust in the small space. âWho the hell makes these tents so damn small?â
âTheyâre meant for normal-sized people, not... whatever the hell you are,â you said with a smirk.
Logan snorted. âMutant privilege. I need bigger accommodations.â
You both lay there for a few minutes, the quiet settling in around you. Loganâs breathing was steady, his body warm next to yours, and despite his earlier grumblings, you could tell he was content. This whole camping thing wasnât so bad, after all.
âAlright,â you said suddenly, turning to face him. âIâve got a ghost story.â
Logan raised an eyebrow but didnât say anything, so you went on.
âThereâs this guy, right? Big, tough, hairyâlike, really hairy. The kinda guy you wouldnât wanna meet in a dark alley.â
Logan rolled his eyes, but you kept going.
âAnd one night, he decides to go camping with this totally amazing girlâsmart, funny, great taste in camping snacksââ
âWow, I wonder who this is about,â Logan deadpanned.
âShhh,â you said, stifling a laugh. âBut the thing is... the guy? Heâs got a secret. See, he acts all tough, like nothing scares him, but deep down? Heâs terrified of one thing.â
Logan looked over at you, eyes narrowing. âWhat?â
You grinned, leaning in close. âCommitment.â
Logan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. âYouâre full of shit, you know that?â
âMaybe,â you said, smiling. âBut you know Iâm right.â
He didnât deny it, just stretched out a hand to pull you closer, his arm wrapping around you with an ease that made your heart flutter a little too fast.
âIâm scared of plenty of things,â he muttered, his voice low and rough. âJust not the same kinda things as you.â
âLike what?â you asked, curious now.
Logan looked at you, his eyes serious for once. âLosing people. People I care about. Thatâs what scares me.â
The confession was quiet, unexpected, and it hit harder than youâd thought. You swallowed, unsure of what to say, but Logan just shrugged like it wasnât a big deal, pulling you in tighter.
âGuess that makes you a real badass,â you whispered after a moment, your voice barely breaking the stillness of the tent.
âDamn right,â he muttered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. âNow shut up and go to sleep before I start tellinâ real scary stories.â
You smiled against his chest, warmth spreading through you as the sound of the river and the soft crackling of the dying fire lulled you to sleep. And maybe, just maybe, youâd both survived the great outdoors after all.
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Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 2
Summary: after your last session with Aegon, you always feel him behind your back, when you were at home you could feel him here. And when your next session come, everything just got worse...
Warning: dead animals, just a little sex scene, minors DNI.
Ëę°âĄęąâ§ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language and I wrote this at 2 AM alone in the home. So I'm sorry if it's not good, I was scared and I couldn't think. Hope you enjoy!
PART 1, PART 3, PART 4
That night, sleep came slowly to Y/N. The room felt colder than usual, the darkness pressing in from all sides. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind against the window sent her heart racing. She pulled the blankets tighter around her, trying to convince herself that Aegonâs words had just been thatâa mind game, an attempt to unsettle her. But the weight of his gaze from earlier lingered like a ghost in the room.
He didnât actually watch me, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. He was just trying to freak me out, trying to get into my head. Thatâs what he does.
But as soon as she closed her eyes, she imagined him standing outside her window, staring in at her with that unsettling intensity. She quickly opened them again, staring at the window across from her bed. The curtains fluttered slightly in the breeze, and for a moment, her mind played tricks on her, imagining a shadow behind them.
Thereâs no one there, she repeated to herself. Heâs not here. He canât be here.
She forced herself to roll over, turning her back to the window. But that only made her feel more vulnerable. What if he was watching her now, right behind her? She cursed under her breath, her skin prickling with the sense of being observed.
Heâs not here. Youâre safe. He just wanted to mess with you. Thatâs all.
But the thought looped in her head, becoming harder to shake. Every sound in the house became magnifiedâthe creak of the pipes, the hum of the fridge, the rustle of leaves outside. Everything felt threatening. She tried focusing on her breathing, counting each inhale and exhale, forcing her mind to calm.
Youâre a professional, she reminded herself, staring at the faint light coming through the crack in the curtains. Youâve dealt with difficult clients before. Heâs no different.
But deep down, she knew Aegon was different. He was more than difficultâhe was dangerous, unpredictable. The way he looked at her, the way he spoke about that dove, about watching her through the window... it was unsettling in a way that no other client had ever been. And that was what made it so hard to shake.
Hours passed before she finally drifted into a restless sleep, her mind plagued by half-formed dreams of shadows and cold eyes staring through the night.
The next morning, she walked to her office with a persistent unease in her chest. The street felt too quiet, and she found herself glancing over her shoulder every few steps, expecting to see Aegon trailing behind her. But there was no one. Just the usual early morning foot trafficâpeople heading to work, students with their heads buried in their phones.
Heâs not here, she told herself again, quickening her pace. Heâs not following you. Youâre just being paranoid.
But every time she turned a corner, her heart leapt into her throat, expecting to catch a glimpse of his familiar figure. She tried to shake off the paranoia, but it clung to her like a second skin.
When she finally reached her office building, she sighed in relief, stepping quickly inside. The familiar scent of the lobby, the hum of the elevator, the bright, sterile lightingâeverything felt like a small refuge from the gnawing anxiety that had been following her all morning.
But the moment she stepped into her office and closed the door, the unease returned. Her eyes immediately darted to the window, checking for any sign of movement outside. There was nothingâjust the trees swaying gently in the breeze, the distant sound of traffic.
Heâs not watching you, she reminded herself for what felt like the hundredth time. Heâs just trying to scare you, and itâs working. Donât let him get to you.
But even as she tried to focus on her work, her mind kept wandering back to Aegon. His strange, possessive words about the dove. The way he described wanting to clip its wings, to keep it trapped and close. It echoed in her head, too close to how he might feel about her. She shuddered at the thought, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for her coffee.
Later, as the day turned to evening and she walked home, the unease intensified. The shadows stretched longer, darker, and with every step, she felt like someone was just a few paces behind her. She forced herself to keep walking, telling herself not to look back.
Heâs not there, she repeated, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Itâs just your imagination. Heâs not following you.
But the urge to turn around became too much. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, her breath catching in her throat.
No one. The street behind her was empty, save for a few distant cars and pedestrians.
Her heart raced as she turned back, walking faster now, nearly breaking into a jog. She couldnât shake the feeling, no matter how hard she tried. The shadows felt alive, watching her, waiting for her to let her guard down. And it was getting harder and harder to convince herself that it was just paranoia.
When she finally reached her apartment, she slammed the door shut behind her, locking it quickly. Her hands were shaking as she leaned against the door, trying to calm her breathing.
Itâs over. Youâre home. Heâs not here. Youâre safe.
But even as she said the words, she didnât fully believe them. Every creak of the apartment, every shadow cast by the dim evening light seemed to take on a new, more sinister meaning. She jumped at the slightest movement, her nerves frayed beyond reason.
As she sat down on the couch, she glanced at the window, half-expecting to see Aegonâs face staring back at her from the street below. But it was empty, just the soft glow of streetlights outside.
Heâs not watching you, she repeated to herself, her voice barely a whisper. Heâs not watching you.
But the creeping feeling of being observed refused to leave, and she couldnât shake the feeling that somewhere, somehow, Aegon was watchingâwaiting for the right moment to make his next move.
A week had passed since their last session, but it felt like months to Y/N. Every day, her unease grew, festering like a wound that refused to heal. The feeling of being watched never fully left her; shadows felt longer, eyes sharper. No matter how much she told herself it was just in her head, there was always a faint whisper of doubt in the back of her mind.
Now, sitting in her office once again, facing the man who had been haunting her thoughts, she forced herself to breathe. Aegon was different today. His usual agitation, the relentless tapping of his leg and biting of his nails, was absent. Instead, he sat eerily still, his eyes fixed on the wall to her left, as if he was watching something that she couldnât see. His lips moved faintly, a soft, tuneless whisper escaping them. She strained her ears to catch it but could only make out fragments of soundâa hum, almost like a lullaby.
The silence in the room felt thick, oppressive, and she had to fight the urge to shift in her seat, to break the suffocating quiet.
I have to ask, she told herself, steeling her nerves. You have to confront him about last week. You canât let him think he can do whatever he wants.
She took a deep breath and spoke, trying to keep her voice calm, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. "Aegon, last time we spoke, you mentioned something⌠odd. You said I looked good last night⌠in my pajamas." Her voice faltered slightly at the memory, but she forced herself to continue. "I need to ask, what did you mean by that?"
Aegon didnât respond. He didnât even seem to hear her. His eyes remained glued to the wall, his lips still moving faintly, whispering that strange song to himself. His hands rested on his knees, the skin pale and bruised, nails ragged from relentless chewing.
"Aegon?" she pressed, her voice tightening as her nerves frayed. "What did you mean?"
He stopped humming, but his gaze remained unfocused, distant, as if he were somewhere far away. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. "Sunfyre died this week."
Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Your⌠your cat?"
Aegon nodded slowly, still staring at the wall. "He was my only friend. The only one who understood." His voice was monotone, lifeless, as though the words were being dragged out of him.
"Iâm⌠Iâm sorry to hear that," Y/N said cautiously, watching his expression for any sign of reaction. But there was nothing. His face remained blank, his eyes never leaving the invisible point on the wall.
"He was beautiful," Aegon continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Golden fur. Like the sun. Thatâs why I called him Sunfyre. He was always warm. Always there."
Y/N swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. There was something deeply unsettling about the way Aegon spokeâas if he was detached from the world around him, floating somewhere she couldnât reach.
"And now," he murmured, his voice taking on a strange, almost dreamy quality, "heâs gone. And thereâs just⌠noises." He finally blinked, but his gaze remained distant, as if the room had become too small for him. "The noises never stop."
"What⌠what noises?" Y/N asked cautiously, her fingers gripping the armrests of her chair, trying to steady herself. Something in the pit of her stomach twisted.
"Them," Aegon replied vaguely, tilting his head slightly as if listening for something. "The whispers. The sounds in the walls. Theyâre everywhere now, you know? After Sunfyre⌠they got louder. He used to keep them away, but now thereâs nothing. Just them. Always talking. Always laughing." His face twitched for the briefest moment, as if suppressing a shiver.
Y/Nâs heart started to race again, an icy chill creeping down her spine. "Aegon⌠have you⌠have you spoken to anyone about these noises? Has this been happening for a long time?"
"Theyâve always been there," he said in the same flat, detached voice. "But itâs worse now. Itâs like theyâre closer. Watching me all the time. Telling me things." His eyes, still glued to the wall, seemed to glaze over. "I try not to listen, but sometimes⌠sometimes they make sense."
Her throat felt dry, but she forced herself to ask, "What do they tell you?"
Aegonâs lips curled into a slow, unsettling smile. It was the first time heâd smiled since he entered the room, and it was chilling. "They tell me the truth. About everything. About you."
Her blood ran cold at his words, her mind racing as she tried to keep her expression neutral. "What⌠what do you mean, Aegon?"
"They tell me how beautiful you are," he whispered, his eyes still locked on that invisible point on the wall. "How you care about me. How you donât want me to leave. They tell me how you wear that soft panty to bed. The one with the little flowers on it."
Her heart stopped. How does he know? How?
She felt light-headed, her vision blurring at the edges as panic surged through her veins. "Aegon⌠how do you know what I wear?"
He didnât answer. Instead, he tilted his head again, listening, as though someone was whispering in his ear. Then, with an eerie calmness, he said, "The voices see everything."
Y/Nâs hands trembled as she gripped the chair tighter. "Aegon, I need you to focus. What do you mean the voices see everything?"
"They watch. Theyâre always watching," he replied, finally turning his head to face her, his gaze locking onto hers. His eyes were wide, unblinking, and filled with a strange, manic intensity that made her heart lurch in fear. "Just like I do. Just like I watch."
The room suddenly felt much smaller, the walls closing in around her. She couldnât breathe. She wanted to run, to leave, but her legs felt frozen in place.
"Sunfyre used to keep them away," Aegon continued, his voice a low murmur now. "But heâs gone. Now thereâs just me. And you."
She couldnât speak. Her chest tightened, her thoughts a jumble of fear and confusion. She had to end the session. She had to get out.
But before she could move, the clock on the wall chimed, signaling the end of their time.
Aegon stood up slowly, still smiling, his eyes never leaving her. "Iâll see you next week," he said softly, his voice dripping with a sickening sweetness.
And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving Y/N sitting in her chair, frozen in place, the echoes of his words reverberating in her mind.
The voices see everything.
The second Aegon left her office, she felt the walls pressing in, the whispers of doubt clawing at her. She packed up quickly, her hands trembling as she stuffed her notebook into her bag and threw on her coat. All she wantedâneededâwas to get out.
By the time she reached her apartment, her fingers shook as she fumbled with her keys, her heart still hammering in her chest. As soon as she was inside, she slammed the door shut and bolted it, leaning her back against the wood as she tried to steady her breathing.
Itâs just in your head, she told herself, her voice shaky and uncertain. Heâs just a patient. Heâs just trying to get under your skin. Heâs not watching you⌠heâs not.
But the fear lingered. His words replayed in her mind, twisting around her thoughts like a poison.
With trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and dialed the number she knew by heart. It only took two rings before she heard the familiar voice on the other end.
âHey, babe,â her boyfriend, Jacob, answered. His tone light and warm. âEverything okay?â
âNoâŚâ Y/Nâs voice broke as the word slipped out. âCan you come over? Please. IâI need you.â
He didnât hesitate. âIâll be right there.â
The next twenty minutes felt like an eternity. She paced around her apartment, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on her chest. She kept checking the windows, the corners of the room, every shadow stretching a little too far, every creak of the floorboards making her jump.
When the knock finally came, she practically ran to the door. As soon as she opened it, she fell into his arms, her body trembling with the weight of it all.
âHey, hey, itâs okay,â Jacob murmured, holding her tightly. His hand gently stroked her hair as he guided her back inside, shutting the door behind them. âIâm here. What happened?â
She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. âItâs⌠itâs Aegon. My patient. Heâhe said these things and I donât know, itâs just⌠he knows things, things he shouldnât know.â
Her voice broke as she recounted the details, her words spilling out in a frantic rush. She told him everythingâAegonâs strange behavior, his fixation, the way he talked about her. The voices. The watching.
Jacob listened, his face calm and reassuring as he nodded. âBabe, I think youâre just stressed. This guy⌠heâs messing with you because he knows itâll get to you.â
âI donât knowâŚâ she whispered, wiping at her eyes. âIt felt so real.â
âI know, I know it did.â He pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. âBut youâre letting him get in your head. Heâs trying to make you scared, but you canât let him win, okay?â
She nodded against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. âYouâre right. Youâre right⌠itâs just in my head.â
âThatâs all it is,â he said softly, his hands running soothingly down her back. âJust some creepy guy trying to push your buttons. But youâre stronger than that. You can handle it.â
His calm, rational voice slowly chipped away at the terror inside her. She breathed deeply, letting herself believe his words, clinging to them like a lifeline. âThank you,â she whispered. âI needed that.â
âIâm here,â he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. âAlways.â
The tension in her chest began to unravel as she melted into his embrace. Slowly, the fear that had gripped her all week loosened its hold. He was right. Aegon was just trying to get under her skin. Nothing more.
He pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on her shoulders. âHow about we forget all about this guy, huh? Letâs just relax.â
She nodded, letting out a shaky breath. âYeah⌠yeah, that sounds good.â
Without another word, he took her hand and led her toward the bathroom. The warm steam from the shower enveloped them as they stepped inside, the water cascading over their skin, washing away the remnants of the dayâs tension.
He pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She responded, her hands sliding up his chest, the heat of the water matching the growing warmth between them. His touch was gentle but sure, his hands slowly roaming over her body as he deepened the kiss.
In that moment, the world outside didnât matter. Not Aegon, not the fear, not the shadows that had haunted her all week. There was only him, the steady reassurance of his presence.
As they moved to the bed, their wet skin still warm from the shower, he kissed her neck, his hands sliding between her legs, slowly caressing her. She gasped softly, her body responding to the comfort and distraction he offered.
He kissed her deeply, and as his hands roamed over her, she closed her eyes, letting herself forget everything. For just a moment, she let herself believe that everything was okay.
The weight of Jacob's arm draped over her gave Y/N a sense of temporary calm, her mind finally lulled into a fragile state of rest after the events of the week. The sheets clung to their bodies, still damp from the shared heat, their limbs intertwined in a way that made her feel, for the first time in days, safe. Protected.
But that safety shattered in an instant.
A loud crash from the other side of the apartment jolted them awake. The sound of breaking glass ripped through the silence like a scream, sharp and sudden. Y/N shot up in bed, her heart pounding so fast it felt like it would burst out of her chest. Her boyfriend sat up beside her, his hand instinctively reaching for her.
"What the hell was that?" he whispered, his voice low, urgent.
"IăźI don't know," Y/N stammered, already pulling the blanket around her naked body, her hands trembling as she clutched the fabric tightly. Fear crawled up her spine like a cold hand, squeezing her chest. Something was wrong. She could feel it.
Jacob swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing a nearby lamp as a makeshift weapon. "Stay behind me," he said, his voice grim as he stood, leading the way out of the bedroom.
They crept down the hallway, the air thick with tension, their breaths shallow and uneven. The soft click of the floorboards under their feet was deafening in the oppressive silence that followed the crash. Y/N tightened the blanket around her, the fabric dragging across the floor as she followed behind, her senses on high alert, every shadow on the walls seeming to twist and warp into something sinister.
The moment they stepped into the living room, the metallic tang of blood hit her like a punch to the gut. She froze.
"Oh my God..." her boyfriend whispered, the words barely audible, as his gaze swept over the scene before them.
Doves. Dead doves, strewn across the floor like discarded dolls. Their once-beautiful white feathers were soaked in blood, their delicate wings from their bodies, limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Some of them were headless, their necks bent at grotesque angles, the floor slick with their blood. Their wings were now broken, shredded, discarded in small, crumpled heaps.
The smell was overwhelming, suffocating. The stench of death and blood filled the air, thick and coppery, clinging to their skin like a second layer. Y/N gagged, one hand flying to her mouth as bile rose in her throat. Her eyes were wide with horror as she stared at the carnage before her.
It wasn't just the doves.
The walls were splattered with blood- thick, dark red streaks of it, smeared in long, jagged lines. Words. Horrible, terrifying words written in the blood of the doves.
"MINE"
"LEAVE"
"ALWAYS WATCHING"
The writing was erratic, desperate, the letters dripping down the walls like some kind of twisted arning. The word âMINE" was repeated over and over again, sometimes scrawled so large it stretched from floor to ceiling, other times tiny, scratched into the plaster as if done by someone who had lost control.
The words clawed at her brain, a primal panic bubbling up from the depths of her mind. They weren't just words-they were a threat, a message, twisted and dark, filled with rage. Her chest tightened, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her eyes scanned the room, wild and terrified.
"What the fuck.." her boyfriend whispered, his voice trembling now, his grip tightening around the lamp. "What the fuck is this?"
Y/N's legs were shaking, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her as she stumbled backward. Her eyes darted to the window, and that's when she saw him.
A figure in the shadows, standing just outside the glass, watching her.
Aegon.
His pale, hollow face was half-hidden by the darkness, but his eyesä¸those wild, burning eyesä¸were locked onto hers, unblinking. There was something feral in the way he stood, the way his lips twisted into a sickening smile as he stared at her, his head tilted at a strange, unnatural angle, like a predator stalking its prey.
She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Her throat was dry, her voice stolen by the sheer terror of the moment. Her body felt frozen, paralyzed, unable to move, unable to breathe.
Her boyfriend's voice cut through the fog of her panic. "What is it? What do you see?"
She tore her eyes away from the window, grabbing his arm with trembling hands. "He's here" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "He's outside... it's him..."
Her boyfriend whipped his head toward the window, but by the time he looked, Aegon was gone. The shadowy figure had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving nothing but the echo of his presence behind.
"I don't see anything," he said, his voice laced with confusion andfear. âThere's no one there."
"No-no, I saw him!" Y/N insisted, her voice rising with hysteria. "He was there! I swear to God, he was right there, watching us!"
He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as she trembled violently. "It's okay, it's okay. We'll call the cops. Someone broke in, this... this is some fucked-up shit, but we'll figure it out. He's not here anymore."
She nodded weakly, her mind spinning with confusion and terror. Her eyes kept darting back to the window, expecting to see those cold, unblinking eyes staring back at her. But the space was empty now, just an expanse of darkness and the dull glow of streetlights outside.
Jacob pulled out his phone and dialed the police, his voice low and urgent as he explained the situation. Y/N barely heard him, her thoughts swirling in a chaotic whirlwind of fear and disbelief.
The words on the walls seemed to pulse in the corner of her vision, the blood dripping down in slow, thick rivulets: MINE. LEAVE.
Her stomach twisted into knots, her entire body shaking as she collapsed into the nearest chair, her legs giving out beneath her. The doves lay scattered around her feet, their lifeless eyes staring up at her, empty and soulless.
She couldn't escape it.
No matter how hard she tried to convince herself it wasn't real, that Aegon wasn't capable of such madness, the truth was there-painted in blood across her walls.
This wasn't just in her head. This was real. Too real.
âThereâs not much we can do without evidence,â one of the officers had said, his voice neutral but with an edge of doubt. âBut we can check on him, just to ease your mind.â
And so, at 3 AM, Y/N, Jacob, and the two officers found themselves standing outside the grand Targaryen estate. The imposing house loomed before them, bathed in the glow of the moon, its towering facade as cold and uninviting as the man who lived inside. Y/Nâs heart was pounding in her chest, her skin crawling with unease as they rang the bell.
It didnât take long for the door to open.
Alicent stood in the doorway, her face pinched with confusion and irritation, her robe wrapped tightly around her. She looked from the officers to Y/N and her boyfriend, then back again. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"Officers," Alicent greeted politely, though her voice held an edge of irritation. "May I help you?"
Y/Nâs voice shook as she stepped forward. âItâs Aegon. Heâs been stalking meâhe came to my apartment tonight. He left⌠dead birds everywhere, and he wrote on the walls with blood. Heâs been following me. Watching me.â
âIâm sorry, but what is this about?â Alicentâs eyes flicked between Y/N, her boyfriend, and the officers. âThis must be a misunderstanding.â
âNo, itâs not a misunderstanding!â Y/N yelled, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. âHe broke into my apartment. There were dovesâdead dovesâand blood⌠Heâs been following me, watching me! Heâs dangerous!â
Her boyfriend squeezed her hand gently, trying to pull her back, but she yanked away, pointing toward the door. âYou have to believe me! Aegon is sickâhe needs to be locked up! Heâs not right in the head!â
Alicentâs face hardened. âThatâs impossible. Aegonâs been here all night.â
The officers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to proceed.
Alicentâs eyes flicked to the officers, her mouth pressed into a thin line. âMy son would never do something like that. Heâs not⌠unwell. Heâs just dealing with some personal things.â
Y/Nâs heart hammered against her ribcage as rage and fear bubbled inside her, her voice rising as she lost control. âHeâs a fucking psycho, and heâs trying to ruin my life! Heâs stalking me, and youâre just covering for him!â
âMaâam,â one of the officers cut in, stepping forward to intervene, âletâs all remain calm. Weâre here to investigate, but we need to speak to Aegon himself.â
At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed down the grand staircase.
Aegon appeared, descending slowly, rubbing his eyes as though he had just woken from a peaceful slumber. He wore a loose-fitting T-shirt and pajama pants, his blonde hair mussed, his expression calm, and his movements casual, almost lazy. He looked nothing like the manic, disturbed man Y/N had seen just hours before.
âIs everything alright?â Aegon asked, his voice quiet, soft, laced with concern. His eyes scanned the group, lingering on Y/N for a moment before turning to the officers. âWhatâs going on?â
Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. How could he look so normal? She knew what he wasâshe had seen him, heard his madnessâbut now, he was playing the part of the innocent. She could feel herself unraveling, her emotions spilling out uncontrollably.
Her blood boiled at the sight of his calm, innocent facade. He wasnât the same Aegon she had sat across from in therapyâthe one who whispered disturbing things and stared at her with dark, empty eyes. This Aegon seemed so harmless, almost apologetic, as if none of the horrors from earlier could be traced back to him.
"Do you know this woman, sir?" one of the officers asked, gesturing to Y/N, who was on the verge of collapsing under the weight of it all.
Aegon blinked slowly, his expression softening into something almost pitiful. âYes, she'sâŚmy therapist," he said, his voice low and even, a hint of sadness laced into his words. "ButâŚI'm not really sure why sheâs here.â
One of the officers stepped forward. âSir, weâre here following a report. This woman has made some serious claims about your involvement in an incident tonight. We just need to ask you a few questions.â
Aegonâs face contorted into an expression of confusion, concern knitting his brow as he blinked at the officers. âI donât know what sheâs talking about,â he said, his voice even, smooth. âIâve been here all night. I havenât left the house.â
Y/Nâs breath hitched, her eyes going wide. âWhat? Noâno, donât act like this! You know exactly what you did, Aegon! Youâve been following me! You were in my apartment tonight! I saw you!â
Aegon shook his head slowly, his eyes filled with what looked like genuine confusion. âI think thereâs been a misunderstanding. I was home all night. I would never do something like that.â He turned to the officers. âIâve been going through a hard time. I recentlyâŚbroke up with my girlfriend, and I started seeing Y/N to help me deal with the depression. ButâŚI donât know where all of this is coming from.â
âHeâs lying!â Y/N screamed, stepping forward, her whole body shaking with anger. âHeâs making it all up! Heâs dangerousâheâs not the person you think he is!â
Aegon didnât flinch. Instead, he stepped closer to the officers, his face calm, composed, but his voice took on a vulnerable tone. âI think⌠I think maybe sheâs upset because I didnât reciprocate her feelings.â
Y/Nâs eyes widened in horror. âWhat the fuck are you talking about? Thatâs not true!â
Aegon glanced at the officers, feigning embarrassment. âSheâŚshe made some advances during our sessions. I told her that it wasnât appropriate, but I think she may have misinterpreted our relationship. Maybe sheâs just mad that I didnâtâŚyou know, return her feelings.â
Y/Nâs world spun. The rage and helplessness surged inside her like a storm, the bile rising in her throat. âThatâs a lie! Youâre lying! You need to stop lying!â She lunged forward, her hands reaching for Aegon in a desperate attempt to stop him from spinning the truth any further, but her boyfriend grabbed her, pulling her back.
âStop it, Y/N!â he pleaded, holding her tightly as she fought to break free. âJust stop!â
Aegonâs face twisted into something almost sad. âI didnât want to say anything because I didnât want to ruin her reputation, butâŚIâm worried about her. I think sheâs struggling with some personal issues, and thatâs why sheâs saying all of this.â
The officers looked back at Y/N, their expressions unreadable, but she could feel their judgment. It was like a weight pressing down on her chest, suffocating her. They didnât believe her. No one believed her.
âYouâre fucking sick!â Y/N screamed, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. âYou should be in a mental hospital! Youââ She was hysterical now, her words a broken mess of sobs and fury. âYou did this! Youââ
âMaâam, we need you to calm down,â one of the officers said sternly, stepping between her and Aegon. âWeâll handle this, but we need you to calm down.â
âIâm telling the truth!â Y/N cried, her voice raw and desperate. âHeâs dangerous! Heâs going to hurt me! Heâsââ
But no one was listening. Not her boyfriend, not the police, and certainly not Alicent, who stood behind her son, a look of quiet satisfaction on her face as she watched the scene unfold.
Aegon rubbed his eyes again, stifling a yawn as if all of this was just an inconvenience, just a bad dream he would soon wake from. âI just want to go back to bed,â he said softly, looking at the officers with pleading eyes. âI promise Iâm not who she says I am. I justâŚI just want to move on.â
The officers nodded, exchanging a glance before turning back to Y/N.
âI think itâs best if we leave now, maâam,â one of them said gently, but firmly. âWeâll follow up on this, butâŚfor now, you should go home and try to get some rest.â
Y/Nâs heart sank. She had lost. She had been defeated by his lies, by his calm demeanor, by the illusion of normalcy he had created.
Her boyfriend wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back toward the door. Her legs felt like lead, her body drained of all strength, her mind clouded with fear. But as they stepped outside, she turned back for one last look at Aegon.
And thatâs when she saw it.
His eyes were wide now, bright and burning with a terrifying intensity. He stared at her, unblinking, a slow, twisted smile creeping onto his lips. And then, with a single finger pressed against his lips, he made a silent gesture.
Shhh...
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¤ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍă
¤ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍÍ ÍÍ#hotd#house of the dragon#aegon ii targaryen#aegon the second#hotd aegon#king aegon#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon x reader#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon fanfic#dark aegon x reader#dark aegon targaryen#dark hotd#dark! hotd#yandere aegon ii targaryen#yandere hotd#yandere x reader#aegon ii targaryen x y/n#aegon ii fanfic#aegon ii x reader#aegon targaryen x female reader#aegon targaryen x you#modern hotd#modern aegon#aegon targaryen#yandere aegon x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd x reader#tom glynn carney
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Next Door Neighbors
Summary: You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.
A/N: Here it is! Sorry I didn't get it out earlier but it's here now! Enjoy this little đ Harry Styles Happy Birthday Treat đxoxo
Word Count: 7.8k
Warning: 18+ only, smut
It was the perfect house with the perfect backyard in the perfect neighborhood. Youâd hit the jackpot. Your first big girl purchase. A house with a lovely garden, two bedrooms, a lovely little kitchen with the perfect rays of light that shone in through the big windows all morning. And the neighborhood was nice and quiet where you could enjoy your weekends in peace reading to your heartâs content.
It was a huge upgrade from the apartment life you endured for years while you saved up for just this thing. And youâd finally found it. Things seemed to be coming together for you in life finally.
On Friday after you got off work, Zoya called, asking if you wanted to go out with the girls but you politely declined, âIâm just gonna stay in I think. I hope you donât mind. Maybe next weekend, Zo.â
You had a bottle of wine tucked under your arm as you held your cell phone to your ear on your way to the checkout lane at the little neighborhood market a few blocks from your house. Your new house. The one with your name on the mortgage.
Your plan was to drink a little wine in your cute new backyard and read a book, just taking in the peace of your new place.
You turned on the twinkle lights over your back porch (your dad had helped you put them up into the trees) and sat down in your outdoor lounge chair with a glass of wine and the book youâd been looking forward to reading. The sun had just gone down and you could hear crickets. A perfect Friday night, in your opinion.
That is until you were twenty pages into your book and suddenly the loud racket of what sounded like obnoxiously loud live music playing from next door had you closing your book and standing up to investigate.
The closer you got the more you could hear the unmistakable sound of a live band playing, the pop of a snare drum, the trill of a guitar... You looked over the wood fence into the driveway of your neighborâs home and couldnât see much but you saw lights on inside of the garage and the loud ruckus of a homemade instrumental band.
You didnât want to be one of those neighbors. One of those awful people who complained about everything their neighbors did. But this was ridiculous. It seemed they had no regard for any of the people that lived around them.
Walking back to what was supposed to be your little oasis you sat down and grumped to yourself about how rude some people could be. Youâd give them one hour until you went over there and told them in person to lower the noise.
Youâd only been living in your little house for a few days and this was your first Friday night. You had really been looking forward to a peaceful night at home. Not even your second glass of wine could calm you down.
You didnât know why you were so mad about it. In your apartment, you were bombarded with noise from all the neighbors who shared a wall with you and the loud heard of elephants that lived above you.
But this? It was meant to be your sanctuary. Your place of solitude.
But youâd had it. When an hour had passed and you paced around your backyard getting up the nerve to walk over there you huffed and psyched yourself up as you made your way into the front yard of your neighborâs house and could see three men inside the wide open garage. A drummer pounding away, and two men standing â one with a guitar and another with a bass.
You stepped into the driveway and clutched your cardigan closer to your chest as you appeared at the threshold of the garage and the music abruptly stopped when the tall one with dark curls laid his eyes on you.
âHi. Youâre the new neighbor,â he raised his hand from the neck of the guitar he had slung over his shoulder and smiled.
You instantly no longer were raging with anger when you heard his voice and realized this was the man youâd seen briefly the morning before as he got into his car. You imagined he was attractive but not this attractive. Tattoos along one arm, thick curls, plush pink lips, dimplesâŚ
âUh⌠yeah. I just moved in next door a few days ago.â You looked behind yourself and back toward the men before continuing, âI was hoping you guys couldââ
Your voice was cut off by the clash of a symbol then the hit of a snare before the drummer tapped his sticks together, âWeâre in the middle of something here in case you didnât see.â
âHey⌠chill. Donât be rude man,â the curly-headed man with the guitar shot a look at the drummer before looking back at you, âWhat were you saying? Sorry.â
You shifted on your feet, âI was wondering if you guys could keep it down. Itâs so loud and itâs all I can hear while Iâm trying to read.â
The guy with the bass guitar spoke, âOh come on, lady. We hardly ever get to do this.â
Your neighbor began removing his guitar, lifting the strap over his head as he looked at the other two, âLetâs call it a night guys. Thatâs enough.â
The other two began to grumble as they packed away their things and your neighbor stepped out of the garage in front of you with his hand held out to you, âIâm Harry.â
You smiled and placed your palm against his, âY/n.â
The drummer came up beside Harry, âTodayâs his birthday you know. The only thing he wanted today was to jam out for a bit.â
Your eyes widened as you looked at Harry, âOh. I didnât know. Iâm sorry⌠youââ
âDonât worry about it. We had a good hour. Iâm beat anyway. Long week at work.â
The bassist gave Harry a side hug, âIâm gonna head home. See you later, okay? Happy birthday, dude.â
âOh. I should leave. Iâm really sorry again,â you waved as you began to back away.
But Harry stepped in toward you, âStick around for a minute okay?â
The drummer followed suit, bidding Harry a happy birthday and then getting into his car to drive away as you stood awkwardly at the edge of the garage until it was just you and Harry.
âIâm sorry. I feel really bad that they left. And itâs your birthday too? Iâll⌠do you want a bottle of wine or something? Let me grab you a bottle as a gift and an apologyâŚâ
Harry grinned at you and shook his head, âMind if I come with you? Iâd love to see the inside of the house. Never got the chance to see it before. That can be your birthday gift to me.â
You noted the smirk on his face, his confident posture, and then you realized he had crystalline green eyes. Something in the way he was looking at you gave you those ridiculous butterflies in your tummy.
âYeah. Of course, Harry.â You turned and he followed behind you as you led him into your backyard, closing the gate behind yourself.
âThis is the backyard. Iâm gonna put in some flowers over there,â you pointed, âAnd maybe do something with the porch at some point.â
Harry looked around the backyard briefly before he put his gaze back on you as you opened up your door to let him inside. You were sure you were insane to be letting your neighbor, whom you did not know, into our house with you alone at night, but you only live once, isnât that what they say?
âKitchen,â you gestured your hand and then moved through into the living room where Harry trailed behind you and looked around.
âItâs nice. I like how big the windows are. Always was jealous of how big they are compared to mine.â
You looked up at him and smiled, âItâs one of the reasons I bought the place. The window in the kitchen overlooking the backyard kind of sealed the deal for me. Lots of great light comes in for most of the day.â
âI bet it does,â he kept his eyes on you and your tummy was still fluttering about.
âOver here is the bedroom,â you flipped on the switch, âItâs got its own full bathroom. Tiny but I like it.â You turned to move down the hall and flipped on the switch to the hallway bathroom, âAnother bathroom, here,â and then moved to the final door, pushing it open to an empty room, âAnd at some point, Iâll furnish this. Itâll be like an office, guest room sort of thing.â
You turned off the light and looked back at Harry who was standing right behind you.
âThank you, for showing me around.â
You felt your face warm up as you looked at him. You liked how he said your name. Liked how his lips moved around his words when he spoke.
âOf course. Um⌠do you want any wine? I was a glass and a half into a bottle if you want to finish it with me?â
That was an easy yes from Harry. You brought your glass in from outside and pulled out a clean one for your neighbor before pouring a bit of the burgundy liquid inside for him.
âHappy birthday, Harry,â you held your glass out to him and he tapped the edge of his glass to yours, âSorry that I ruined it, though. I kind of feel awful.â
Harry shook his head, âDonât be sorry. Like I said, it was a long week at work and we had a good hour anyway. Plus this is nice. Getting to know my neighbor,â he took a sip of his wine.
âHow old are you today?â You took a sip of your wine as you watched him.
â30,â he sighed, âGrown adult officially.â He smiled.
You laughed at his remark and nodded, âYes, 30 marks the official entry into adulthood. Thatâs my belief as well.â
You really liked Harry. He was easy to talk to and you decided he made you feel very comfortable.
âSo, youâre a musician?â You raised your brows.
He shook his head and chuckled, âWell, I like to sing and play instruments. Iâm not really great or anything. Just a hobby. Used to be in a band in college but then I realized I had to get a real job and figure out how to pay my bills and get along in life.â
You leaned your bottom into your kitchen counter and smiled at him, âOh yeah. I know all about that. Would be nice if we could make good money just doing our hobbies so we didnât have to get real jobs,â you laughed, âWhat do you do for work?â
âIâm an electrical contractor. Have a small business with three employees. Itâs hard work but it pays well. Most of the time.â
You smiled. He continued to get more attractive the more he talked and the more you learned. It didnât hurt that you could tell he was in incredibly great shape as well. He was tall, his shoulders were broad and his shirt stretched tightly over the lats at his back and hung loosely where his waist was, indicating a nice healthy build and upper body strength. His arms were lean muscle and even his thighs filled out the tops of his jeans so you understood it wasnât just his upper body that was well-muscled.
You heard Harry chuckle as you darted your eyes back up to his. Youâd been caught checking him out. You hadnât meant to let your eyes scrape down his frame but⌠well. Here you were.
âAnd what do you do, Y/n?â
Harry kept his sight on you as he sipped from his glass. His sultry gaze was doing things to your hormones and making your heart pump a little harder behind your ribcage.
âIâm the general manager at SpendCo,â you laughed and shrugged, âNot a fancy job but I like it. Good benefits. Was able to save up for this place,â you gestured your hand around the kitchen.
âMy jobâs not fancy either,â Harry laughed, âBut yeah. Itâs steady work. A good paycheck.â
You nodded. You could relate in some ways. Youâd gone to school for business but wound up working your way up from the bottom at SpendCo. When you started you were making just over minimum wage as a cashier, but now you worked in the office, Monday through Friday (no more weekends for you) and had shift managers and employees working under you. It felt good to be the boss.
âWanna sit in the living room? Couch is brand new. In fact, Iâve hardly even had the chance to sit in it myself.â
âYeah. Letâs break that couch in, Y/n,â Harry grinned as he nudged you with his shoulder.
Oh?
You laughed at his comment but decided to not take it the way you imagined he meant. Of course, he obviously meant just sitting on it and breaking it in that way. Certainly, there were no innuendos behind his words.
You didnât have a proper coffee table yet so you pulled an empty bin with a lid to the front of the couch, âWeâll use this to put our glasses on. Still not done decorating or buying things I need, as you can tell.â
Harry sat his glass down on the plastic lid of the bin and pointed at your stereo setup next to the TV, âCan I put on some music?â
âYeah, sure,â you smiled as you took another sip of your wine and watched your handsome neighbor get up and turn on your stereo and speakers. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and searched for the Bluetooth to connect and a song began to play over your speakers.
âLike Chris Isaak?â Harry asked as he sat down on the couch, right next to you, his knee knocking into yours.
âYeah⌠I think. Iâve heard this song before anyway,â you smiled as you looked down at your thighs.
Harry leaned his back into the cushion and you felt him shifting next to you, his arm propped up on the back of the seat behind you.
âSo where did you live before you moved in here?â
You turned your head to look at him before placing your eyes safely on the plastic bin, âIn an apartment over in Rogerâs Park. Nice little neighborhood. But I hated living in an apartment. Lugging groceries up three flights of stairs every time I went shopping. I mean I got used to it but stillâŚâ you laughed.
âOh yeah. I know what you mean. I used to live in an apartment too. Actually also in Rogerâs Park⌠but that was like five years ago.â
You peeked at him with your brows raised, âYeah? You lived in Rogerâs Park too? What area?â
âOff Grand near the big bus terminal.â
âWait. For real? At Sheraton Oaks?â
Harry furrowed his brows and squinted, âYes. Shit. Is that where you lived?â
âIt is. 3rd floor. Apartment 10.â
Harry turned his body toward you, his thigh flush against yours, âNo fucking way, Y/n. I lived in apartment 10,â he pointed his thumb at himself with a wide surprised grin on his face.
You shook your head and looked at him in disbelief, âThatâs wild. How funny that two people who used to live in the same apartment at different times became next-door neighbors. What are the chances?â
Harry laughed, âSeems quite unlikely in such a big city.â
You and Harry sat facing one another in amazement as a new song came on.
âYou okay?â Harryâs pupils ran over your features and you saw him looking at your lips as he poked his tongue out to wet his own.
âYeah. Why?â
Harry softly smiled as he lifted his hand to your face and you felt the pad of his thumb press into your cheek, âYouâre biting the inside of your cheeks. Just wanted to make sure you werenât nervous or something.â
You puffed out a laugh and shook your head, âNo. Iâm not nervous. Sometimes I chew on the inside of my cheeks. Bad habit.â
Harry nodded shallowly with his eyes on you but he didnât respond. Instead, he reached for his glass and took a sip of wine.
âSo⌠umâŚâ you glanced at him and shot your eyes to his hand that held the stem of the glass. His hands were nice and big and you noticed he had his nails painted, alternating blue and yellow.
âSo, um⌠What? What were you gonna say?â
You gulped and forced yourself to look into his eyes. He was so handsome and you were beginning to get hot all over. He was too close (not that that was a bad thing), his thigh was solid against yours, and his eyes were drawing something out of you. He was alluring.
âI donâtâŚâ you shook your head, âForgot what I was gonna say.â
Harry pulled his lips into his mouth, a muted grin on his face as you watched dimples carve into his cheeks. Like he knew what you were thinking.
âI like this sweater,â he gestured toward your cardigan and you looked down at it. It was knitted with a cat playing with a ball of yarn on the left side.
âMy aunt bought it for me for Christmas last year,â you smiled and as you brought your eyes up you noticed he was wearing a necklace but you couldnât see the whole thing as it was tucked under his t-shirt.
He pulled at a button on your cardigan and cocked his head as he looked at you, âAre you sure youâre okay, Y/n? Do you want me to leave?â
Your eyes widened, âOh no. This is nice. I⌠Iâm okay. Honestly.â
âOkay. You just seem a little frazzled. Want to make sure Iâm not doing anything thatâs making you uncomfortable.â
You shook your head, âNo. Youâre great. You havenât done anything to make me uncomfortable.â You bit your bottom lip into your mouth and tried to give off an air of calm and confidence like Harry was but he was something else. He was so incredibly attractive and the eye contact was making you slowly melt. You couldnât help but let your mind wander to what it would be like to kiss him.
He grinned, one side of his mouth pulling upward, âI see.â
You watched as he took a deep breath and placed his wine glass back down before looking back into your eyes, âSo, um⌠can I ask you a personal question?â
You nodded, âYeah. Sure.â
âDo you have a boyfriend orâŚ?â
Your brows raised upward, âOh. Uh, no. No boyfriend,â you put your hands into your lap and fiddled with your fingers, âAnd, uh⌠you? Significant other?â
A breathy laugh fell from his chest as he shook his head, âNope.â He popped the p as he responded.
You nodded and looked down at the hand that heâd placed over his thigh. His pinky was pressed into your leg. You were sure he was giving you some kind of signal. All the signs were there. His body language, eye contact, asking you about a boyfriend, and the nearness of him⌠He was so close you could smell the soap he used.
âMmmâŚâ you racked your brain to think of anything to say, âHow long have you lived here?â
He licked his lips again, âFive years. Moved out of Sheraton Oaks and then bought the house next door.â
You smiled, âSo that means I moved in right after you moved out.â
Harry slowly moved his hand further toward your leg and you felt his pinky and ring finger press into your leggings before subtly bending his pinky finger out to rub the fabric under his digit, âSounds like we have a lot in common.â
âYeah. Guess so,â you gave him a weak smile and looked down at his hand.
âAm I overstepping?â
You shook your head and looked up at him.
âNo? What about if I kissed you? Is that too much?â
Your breath caught in your lungs as you kept your eyes pinned to his and shook your head again.
âNo, itâs not too much? Or no you donât want me to kiss you?â
You swallowed and your heart bounced around in your chest so wildly you could almost hear it, âNo, itâs not too much.â
The smile on Harryâs face was soft as he looked from your eyes to your mouth, âItâs okay then? You donât mind the birthday boy stealing a kiss from his cute neighbor?â
That pulled a laugh from you just as he hoped it would, âIâd like that I think.â
Harry slid his free hand up to the side of your neck, his thumb at the base of your jaw close to your ear, âLast chance to say no.â
You laughed again and placed your palm over the top of his hand that had fully moved over your thigh, âKiss me.â
The slow movement of his face toward yours, the nudge of his nose to your skin, hot puffs of breath spreading over your cheek, soft lips brushing against the edge of your mouth, before he finally pressed his smooth pink lips against yours was alchemic. Something about him, about the way he handled himself and spoke to you and devoured you with his eyes⌠But with his mouth against yours, his thumb softly rubbing at your jaw, and his hand moving to fit his fingers between yours as he kept it pressed over your thigh you felt electrified.
And he tasted like mint and smelled like soap and his lips were smooth and moist against yours. Your Friday night had already turned out far better than you imagined it would.
Yeah. Making out on your new couch in your new house with your new neighbor was way better.
You slid the palm of your free hand up his shoulder and to the nape of his neck as his own grip on the side of your neck and jaw tightened the slightest.
But your mind was on his mouth. The heat coming from his touch. The way his tongue slid through your lips to beckon them openâŚ
Harry pulled at your hand and urged you toward his lap. Parting your legs you sat down over the spread of his thighs, settling yourself as close to him as possible.
He slid his hands up your thighs and you felt ravenous. It was as if sitting in his lap made it so much more real. He was moving things along and you were keeping pace.
You pressed your tongue against his and softly rocked your hips down. As your pelvis tilted against Harry, he moaned into your mouth and it was the hottest thing youâd ever heard.
âFuck. You still good?â He parted from the kiss, keeping his nose bumped against yours.
You breathed out a yes as you nodded and when you lifted your face your lips brushed against his and it started all over again. Lips smothered over lips and tongues wetly dragging against tongues.
Harryâs hands inched up to your hips and you pressed your fingers into the back of his neck, feeling his pulse, steady and strong under your skin.
He lapped over your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and then dropped his cushiony lips down to your jaw, peppering damp kisses under the space of your chin and over your neck.
You loved having your neck kissed. Not just loved it⌠you craved it. The feel of a manâs breath and mouth and tongue and nose against your pulse point and the delicate skin that wrapped over blood pumping through your arteries had your skin tingling.
Another rock of your hips down and you felt the obvious swell of something growing under his jeans. He hissed and you backed away from his mouth, not knowing if his sharp inhale was from pain or if he liked the slide of the fabric over your crotch pressing against him.
When you looked at his eyes he was a different man. His pupils had widened and his plush pink lips were wet and parted, nostrils taking in air heavily as you felt his fingers dig into your hips.
âDid I hurt you?â You brought one of your hands toward his jaw feeling the light scruff along the bone under your knuckles.
He shook his head, âNo. Not at all. But I do need to reposition.â
You looked down between your bodies and moved back on his thighs to give him space but before your brain could connect to your motions you were reaching down for his button to unpluck from the thick jean fabric. He gently lifted his hips as you unzipped his pants and then you looked at him as you pushed the bottom hem of his shirt upward over the band of his underwear.
âYou wanna help?â He spoke breathily as you nodded and pulled the elastic away from his skin with one hand and used the other to reach under the fabric. It was sparse hair and skin and then and then denser hair and warmth until you felt him tucked awkwardly to the side against his pelvis.
The small coo that fell from your mouth was involuntary as you wrapped your hand around him. Hot and thick in your hand. He inhaled sharply again when he felt your palm on his cock as you helped guide him upright.
Your breath was unsteady and shallow as you kept your eyes on Harryâs, âGod, Harry.â
âWhat?â His teasing smirk gave away that he knew what. He knew his cock was big and watching your reaction to that was pleasing.
You gulped and peeked down at it, your hand still holding the fabric away from his hips. A swollen, smooth ruddy colored tip that matched the pink of his lips. The length of which pushed out from the top of the band and sat perfectly in between two fern tattoos at his hips along the bare part of his skin.
âItâsâŚâ you looked back up at him, âItâs nice.â
Harry breathed out a laugh, âNice? Why thank you.â He grinned.
But then you felt his fingers slide under your t-shirt, pushing the fabric up slowly until his skin was pressed into your sides. It felt like he was urging you to remove your shirt so you did. Pulling your cardigan off first you let it fall to the floor at Harryâs feet before you peeled your t-shirt off.
Harry was surprised to see you werenât wearing a bra. It had been easy enough to hide under the knitted sweater you figured, so you never put a bra on when you went to confront him earlier. And of course, you werenât wearing one. It was meant to be a quiet Friday night in. There had been no need.
He pushed his hands up your sides until his fingers were wrapped around your ribs with his thumbs pressing into the soft plump underside of your tits.
You watched him take you in. Your nipples were straining and goosebumps littered your flesh as he ghosted his thumbs along the sensitive tissue.
It felt like so much. You had never done anything remotely sexual with someone you didnât know. But Harry was hot and you were turned on. So much so that you could feel the dampness in your panties.
You reached back to his chest, pulling at his shirt. You wanted to see more. Wanted to know what he looked like underneath it all. You knew he was fit. And you were positive there were more tattoos hidden away under the material of his shirt.
With his eyes on yours, he moved his hands away from your breasts and pulled his shirt off, taking the back and bringing it over his head at the front. You got a glimpse of the necklace he wore. A white gold cross that slapped against his chest when it caught on the fabric of his shirt as he removed it.
You had been right. His body was defined and strong. Bulky muscular pecs and toned abs. Inked skin from his clavicle to the butterfly under his pectorals and down to the ferns, where his cock poked out of the top of his underwear.
Pressing your palms over his pecs you smoothed your hands down over his nipples and to the butterfly tattoo underneath.
Harry put his hands on your hips again while you admired his torso and you felt his fingers dip under the waistband of your dark-colored tights. Another signal. A question seeking approval for more.
Drawing your eyes up to his you put your hands over his fingers and pushed the material down with him.
Of course, sitting in his lap hindered too much movement but he understood your hint as he pushed you up by your hips and you found yourself being moved off of his lap to your back on the couch.
âStill good, Y/n?â He looked at you with those dark pupils, an air of respectful authority. He made your skin boil.
You nodded, âIâm good.â
Harry began to pull at the stretchy fabric, bringing it down your hips and over your thighs til your knees were free and then he lifted your legs so he could get the leggings off your feet.
When your pants were on the floor, he still had your legs held upward, one hand at the back of your ankles and you peered down at him indulging in the sight of your skin at the back of your thighs and down to your bottom covered in your panties.
You saw a grin on his face as he brought your legs down before he stood up and pulled his jeans off his legs.
His body was so strong and masculine. He could easily dominate you, the thought briefly crossed your mind as you watched the muscles in his arms flex, his abs clench, and the sinew on his powerful-looking thighs bulge as he steadied himself one leg at a time until his jeans were off and he was only clad in his underwear with dark inky designs on his skin and even on his thigh.
He kneed himself down onto the couch, hovering over you as you naturally spread your legs to allow him space between your thighs.
And the feel of his hard shaft pressing over your mound before his lips dropped down to yours once again had you dazed. It almost didnât feel real.
âSo fucking hot, Y/nâŚâ he whispered against your lips, âMade me so hard.â
You gasped when he rocked himself down over you, fabric rubbing against fabric until your arousal had seeped through your panties and began wetting his underwear.
He moaned and parted from this kiss, âYouâre all wet.â He slid himself upward and then back with a grin. âYou like that?â
You nodded with a moan.
âYeah? What else do you want, Y/n? Hm? Want to get rid of these panties?â
You moved your shaky hands down your hips and pushed at the fabric to bring them down. All you wanted was him. Your hormones were screaming at you and all you could think about was his big cock and how it would feel sliding inside of you.
Harry laughed at how enthusiastic you seemed and moved back to help you remove your panties, âOkay. We can get these off. Mind if I lose my underwear too?â
You sat up and reached for the band of his briefs as he began to push them down until he was completely bare before you.
His cock hung heavy outward, pointing toward you, like it was beckoning to be touched so you did, reaching for him and taking your palm from his tip to his base until your hand hit the dark thatch of hair and then pulled back up to his smooth head.
âI want it. Want to feel it, Harry.â You looked at him as you pumped him again.
He groaned as he watched your small hand move along his length.
âDo you have a condom?â
You swallowed and paused your motions. You definitely did not have a condom. Which was quite unfortunate because that could only mean sex was not going to happen unless he had one and was willing to go to his house to get it.
Shaking your head no you frowned.
Harry licked his lips and trailed his eyes over your tits and down your tummy, âSâokay. Plenty of other ways to have fun.â
You whined as you looked down at your hand. You had really wanted to feel that big thing wrecking your insides.
Harry took your chin and tilted your face to look up at him, âWhatâs wrong?â
You inhaled and let go of his pretty dick, âI wanted to feel you so bad.â
He pressed his mouth against yours, soft reassuring kisses had your heart strumming in your chest.
âWell I would hate to disappoint you,â he grinned, âWant to go to mine? Iâve got condoms. Weâll just have to put some clothes back on.â
You nodded and pushed yourself up, quickly pulling your cardigan on and slipping your leggings back up your legs.
Harry liked how desperate you seemed. That was quite the ego boost. He put his shirt back on and pulled his jeans up but left the zipper down as he clutched the fabric to keep it up.
âGuess thatâs good enough for breaking your couch in, yeah?â
You laughed and nodded, âWas a good first use for it I think.â
Harry laughed as he took your hand and you two made your way out your front door to his, hurrying over grass under bare feet and small chuckles until you were in the safety and privacy of his living room. He kept your hand in his until he got to his bedroom where he pulled his shirt off and you followed suit, ridding yourself of the annoying clothing youâd had to put back on.
But you knew it was going to be worth it.
Harry dug into his bedside table for a condom and laid it on top of the wood before looking back at you, âYou still want this?â
You nodded and climbed onto his bed. The tunnel vision you had was keeping your mind from wandering too far off course as you watched Harry stroke his cock, long pulls up and down to his base as he crawled after you onto his bed.
You easily opened up your legs for him to fit his hips between and felt his warm cock slipping through your folds, rubbing against your clit.
âSo slippery, Y/n.â You knew you were as he drove himself over your labia, smoothing his cock against your arousal back and forth.
A shaky moan fell from your throat and Harry grinned as he smeared his lips against your mouth.
He worked himself up and down, wetting the outside of his cock and his tip as he inched through your pussylips smoothly.
You loved his mouth. Loved how he kissed you. It was raw and felt like he gave a damn. Felt like he was enjoying your mouth just as much as you enjoyed his.
Finally, he pushed himself back and reached for his condom looking at you, âDo want anything else first? Or do just want my cock?â
You looked down at his hard dick with your arousal spread all over him and it was all you wanted.
âI want your cock,â your words were breathy as you looked up into his eyes.
âYeah? A greedy little thing arenât you?â Harry began to pull the condom over his shaft, pinching the tip as he dragged the rubber down as far as it would reach before settling himself back against your hips, pushing your thighs back slightly, âSo desperate for it,â he nudged his cock down against your pussy and then slid it up to your clit teasingly, âCouldnât wait to have me inside you. Insisted on it even,â he grinned as he tormented you with his wide girth slipping back and forth against your cunt.
You tilted your hips up and groaned, trying to get him to push inside but he continued his taunting movements, âNow, now⌠so impatient. Iâll give you what you want soon enough sweetheart. But todayâs my birthday so I get to control the pace. Donât want you getting all bossy with me.â
You moaned and slid your hands over his shoulders as you rolled your hips upward again, kissing his slit with your entrance but this time he placed a hand over your thigh and held you in place, âIs it that bad, Y/n?â
You nodded, âPlease, Harry.â
âMmm⌠love a well-mannered lady. You gonna be good for me?â
You sighed and you would have rolled your eyes if you werenât so horny, so out of your mind desperate, âIâm gonna be good. Please.â
âYeah? Cause once I slide inside of you thereâs no turning back.â
You gripped his shoulders tight and groaned, âPlease.â
The feel of his warm, heavy cock smeared against your clit was almost too much. In fact, you could probably come from that alone if given enough time.
âSo sweet for me, Y/n,â Harry took the thigh heâd been holding down and brought your leg over his low back, smoothing his hand over your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance.
The moment you felt him pressing his bulbous head through your slick muscle you dropped your mouth open and moaned but then his mouth caught yours and the noises you were making became muffled as he moved his lips against your mouth.
You knew he was going to split you in half. The slow glide of his cock inside your warm walls was intense. Inch by inch he pushed in as his lips were wrapped around yours.
Holding onto his lats you lifted your hips against his as he slid back and then buried himself into the hilt. You gasped into his mouth at the ache of him nudging into your guts and then pulling back to his tip only to slide himself back in. Working you open slowly, he continued to drive into your cunt with gushy wet noises coming from your pussy as he stretched you open.
You appreciated him plunging in slowly and easing you into fitting around his cock properly. You liked the warmup but more than that, you needed him to destroy your pussy.
When he felt you bucking upward into him he parted his mouth from yours and sat back with his knees bent. You saw him watching the space where he was connected with your cunt as he continued rolling into you.
His abs were flexing as he steadied himself in and out. You gasped when he began to fuck into you a little faster, his cock sliding through your walls and bumping into all the slick bits on your insides.
A gurgled moan fell from your lips as he smacked his hips into yours. The patting of his balls against your ass came out in wet thuds. Your tits bounced with every long stroke into your tummy and he was panting as he let his eyes scan over your body and up to your pretty face.
âTaking me so well, Y/n. Making me leak into my condom already, pussyâs so good.â
You both moaned as he drove into you, his mattress under you giving way to the force of his thrusts.
âFeels so good, HarryâŚâ you panted.
âYeah?â He bucked inward and ground against you, swiveling his hips and you gasped at the deep press into your cervix.
His fingers were pinching into your thighs as he stuffed himself in and you gripped his forearms for leverage and lifted your neck to watch as his cock disappeared into your body over and over again.
His shaft was coated with your shiny arousal as he slid in and out, your pussy gripping around his skin perfectly.
Harryâs moans were growing louder as he continued fucking into you wetly, hips slamming against yours making his balls strike into your ass.
His thighs were flexing as he rocked against you while your body was shivering and feeling the bliss of getting an itch scratched that youâd been needing.
You felt his right hand release your thigh and then watched him press his thumb over your slippery clit.
You let out a pathetic cry of relief when he smoothed the pad of his digit in circles on your bud, âYes! Oh god!â
Harry coughed out a moan as he watched your face twist up, âThat feel good, Y/n?â
You focused your sight on his eyes and nodded, âYesâŚâ
The grin on his face could have been akin to something cocky but your brain was mush as you let him wreck you with deep strokes into your tummy, wet and sloppy, dripping arousal down your ass.
The springs in his mattress were bouncing in time with his thrusts and the wooden frame on his bed creaked when he jerked his hips forward into you.
âJust like that, huh? Pussy needed fucked, yeah?â Harryâs words were coming out tight and shaky. You could hear it in his voice how good it felt for him too.
He pressed down and moved his thumb deliciously over your puffy clit as his cock punched into your organs and tissue making you throw your head back and close your eyes arching your back upward.
Harry loved the sight; your sloppy wet pussy spreading apart for his cock as you arched your back like the sexy thing you were, soft tits swaying every time he buried himself in balls deep, lips parted, neck long and stretched out as you breathily moaned his name, âHh⌠HarryâŚâ
He could watch you like this all night. Stretches of skin covered in goosebumps as if you were cold, hard nipples at the center of your wobbly squeezable tits, soft tummy clenching, and wet pussy ruined and clenching around him.
The way he was smushing and circling his thumb over your clit had your head fuzzy and your heart racing. But then he leaned over you and pressed his other hand over your low tummy as he fucked into you, pushing against your insides and making the space he was invading with his cock feel tighter as he slid upward and nudged into your guts.
âGahhhâŚâ you let out a gasped moan when his hand pressed into your stomach.
âDoes that feel good, Y/n?â Harryâs eyes were on yours as he drove himself into you.
You nodded and scrunched your brows upward when your insides began to twist with your pussy stretching around him indulgently.
Your legs began to quiver from the strain of your muscles as you felt your orgasm nearing. Everything he was doing to you set your body alight. You reached for his strong biceps and dug your fingers in tight gasping at the depth of him.
âBe good for me, honey⌠there you go,â he spoke through clenched teeth, holding back his release, âRight there, huh? Feels good like that?â
You whimpered with a nod as you pinned your eyes to his. The expression on his face was lusty and filled with need as he dipped into you, pasting his hips against yours now, only fucking inward, pressing solidly against your insides.
You cried out when you felt the small burst and snap of your orgasm and he quickly moved his hands from your tummy and clit, leaning his hips against yours before pressing his palms into the mattress on either side of your shoulders and angling his body so he could pound into you and fuck you through your orgasm. The way his pelvis smushed against your clit, hips grinding against you as he pulled back and then forced his way through your opening to bury himself deep inside sent you over the edge.
You clung to his shoulders as you spasmed around his fat cock, slipping deep inside of you with a wet squelch as he reared back to his tip before rutting into the hilt.
Your vision and hearing grew muted as you came so you couldnât hear him clearly when he babbled off nonsense, âShit! Squeezing the fuck out of me, honey! Oh my god, that feels good. So fucking hot. Gonna make me come so hardâŚâ
Harryâs hips struck against you repeatedly until his balls constricted and tightened and then he was pumping into his condom, his muscles stiffening with his hips pressed into yours, mashing your body into the mattress underneath you.
He choked out a moan as his cock spurted his release, throbbing and twitching inside of you as you panted at how hard heâd come. The front of his thighs were pressed into the back of yours, holding you down with his hips as he drained every drop of his come into his condom.
Then it was silent. The sound of sex and moaning was quieted and the bed was no longer creaking and thumping.
Harry pressed his chest against your tits and you felt his plushy lips on yours again and you sighed against his mouth. Slowly your ears stopped ringing and you smoothed your hands up his strong back.
He pushed his face into your neck and his warm breath dampened your skin, âHappy fucking birthday to me,â he laughed.
You grinned with a tiny giggle and opened your eyes before running your fingers into his thick curls.
When heâd pushed himself up to look down at you, you couldnât get over how adorably handsome your neighbor was. He was sexy as hell and yet so cute at the same time.
âYou all right?â His raspy voice was quiet as he searched your face and brought a hand up to your temple, his thumb drawing over your skin.
The grin on your face should have told him as much as you nodded, âVery much all right.â You puffed out a laugh.
He laughed with you and smiled widely, dimples appearing in his cheeks, âWell, welcome to the neighborhood, Y/n.â
Raising a hand up to his jaw you nodded, a cheeky grin still stretched over your mouth, âAnd happy birthday to you, Harry.â
Part 2
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CW: Yandere Themes, Kidnapping, Drugging
ââşââ âžââşââ
Yandere!Alhaitham x Reader, but Reader had a former crush on Alhaitham in their Akademiya years.
ââşââ âžââşââ
It's just a meeting. That's what you tell yourself, at least. Just a meeting between colleagues; just a meeting between what never was and what could have been; just a meeting between the sun and the moon, the sea and the stars.
That's all it is, but there's still a small, painful part of you that can't seem to stop ruminating on what might happen in the next hour. The still-searing brand of love that had been etched on your heart still aches. You hoped that this meeting would lay it to rest.
Knocking on the plain wooden door, his muffled voice responds a second later.
"Come in."
With one final moment to collect yourself, you push open the door. His office is unsurprisingly, very plain and orderly. There's a shelf of books behind him, a few manila files on his desk as well as a hefty stack of paperwork. Glancing over your shoulder, you spy a small ceramic pot resting on the windowsill, a single Sumeru Rose planted inside.
Its flourishing beauty makes you wilt. Years ago, when you were soon to embark to Fontaine to conduct some field research for your thesis, you had confessed to Alhaitham with a Sumeru Rose.
"Are you alright?" Alhaitham's voice snaps you back to the present.
You nod, shuffling over to the chair, its wooden legs scraping across the floor. You're so close to Alhaitham now, that you can see a stray hair on his shoulder. The sight of it makes you wonder what would happen if you were to pluck it off.
No, you remind yourself. You're not in love with him anymore, and he never loved you anyways.
If Alhaitham notices that your eyes are searing a hole into his shoulder, he doesn't say anything. "I'm assuming you understand why I asked to see you, correct?"
"The position of Acting Sage of Rtawahist, correct?"
The room feels humid, likely due to both your anxiety and the warm weather. Looking around, you notice two glasses and a pitcher of water resting off to the side of the desk. As Alhaitham lectures about the position, you reach for the pitcher and fill up a glass of water.
"...position will likely not be necessary after around two weeks," Alhaitham finishes, eyes still boring into yours. You take a sip of water.
It's bitter.
You can't help but furrow your eyebrows. Alhaitham picks up on your expression quickly. "The Akademiya has been testing out new water filtration methods. It produces cleaner water, though some say that it may taste slightly strange," he explains.
The two of you launch back into discussing the details of your new position, but as time begins to pass, you feel off. Not just the kind of off where you need a break, but the kind of off where you feel like you're about to pass out.
"A-ah...haitham," you slur. You don't feel any pain, just tingles running through your veins, spreading throughout your body before rendering your muscles limp.
The man stands up calmly and walks around the desk, supporting your shoulders. "You're okay, just breathe."
You try to, but find yourself unable to do anything.
Everything is blanketed in blackness soon after.
ââşââ âžââşââ
You wake up to the morning sun's long, lovely fingers caressing the curve of your jaw, as well as the sweet hymns of birds and the breeze echoing through trees. It's almost picturesque, really.
Everything feels so right, that for a moment, you're prepared to close your eyes and go back to bed. But then you notice the walls are a lighter green than your bedroom, the sheets you're curled up in are not your own, and the furniture arrangement is completely different from that of your home's.
Oh, and then there's the person sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the room, staring at you unblinkingly.
It takes a moment for you to realize that the figure is Alhaitham, whose analytical eyes are reading you like you're a textbook on some convoluted subject only smart alecks like him would bother to study.
The look in his eyes almost scares you for a moment. You try to move your arms to push yourself up, but find that your wrists have been bound together.
"Alhaitham, what are you doing?"
The man takes a moment to stand and walk towards your bedside, gaze focused and unreadable. "I'm correcting a grave mistake," he says, a hand reaching out to clasp yours, gently stroking your palm with his thumb. "I was foolish to reject your love, but now I understand. I want you."
His words nearly make you pass out again. "That's not how it works, Alhaitham," you protest, "I don't...I don't love you any-"
"Why did you hesitate?"
"Because I just woke up. I'm not exactly thinking straight."
"Or maybe it's because you know you're lying." Alhaitham's words are tinged with condescension, his stare cold and unyielding. "Given enough time, you'll learn to love me again," he says. His hand leaves yours and moves up to your face, brushing up against your jaw. His touch should be warm, but you only feel cold.
You glare. "I doubt it."
For a moment, the corners of Alhaitham's lips quirk up in a semi-smile. It amuses him that you think you have a choiceâa chance, really. After all, nothing's coming to save you.
He's got all the time in the world to make you fall in love with him.
#yandere alhaitham#yandere genshin#alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#genshin x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere drabble#yandere imagine#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin imagines#yandere genshin x you#yandere genshin x gender neutral reader#yandere alhaitham x you#yandere alhaitham x reader#alhaitham x you#alhaitham x y/n#genshin#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#genshin x gender neutral reader
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taste II Ingrid Engen x Mapi LeĂłn x Reader
masterlist I word count: 1018
a/n: dear readers, this short, a little silly but cute oneshot was inspired by this request here, happy reading. đŤśđť đââŹ
Autumn has finally arrived in Barcelona. Leaves painted in red, orange and yellow started to fall from the trees for one last dance. Baghera was entranced by what nature did and watched everything from her favourite spot in the living room close to the window.
Every year you both were falling in love with that season of the year, as it might be an ending to a summer you fully lived, but also the beginning of something fresh and new.
The championâs league was about to start and games under the lights were always something special, alone the thought of it filled you with giddy excitement.
âGirls, I invited Esmee for dinner. Thatâs alright, right?â, you asked your girlfriends who were already in the kitchen.
âYes, of course, kjaerste.â, Ingrid nodded friendly, standing in front of the stove. While Mapi was launching around in one of the chairs in a sitting position which screamed gay, and parents would judge because of bad posture.
âShe was so sad that her parents left again. I thought she could use the distraction.â, you continued. The sad face of the young player was still fresh in your memory.
As a foreign player yourself you knew that being separated from your family for such long periods of time was hard especially when the nights got colder and the daylight shorter.
When you first came to Barcelona at Esmeeâs age you were glad that Mapi and Ingrid welcomed you into their home with open arms, the appartement you began to share with them turning into a home away from home soon.
âThatâs very sweet of you.â, the Norwegian commented, her forehead covered in frowning lines, looking concentrated at the recipe ahead of her.
âWhatâs for dinner?â, Mapi questioned smirking.
âIâve something delicious planned.â, Ingrid announced delighted.
The Spaniard and you took a curious glance at the cookbook before exclaiming, faces formed to disgusted grimaces. âPumpkin soup?!â
âWhy do I have two children, one who has no patience and the other has the taste bud of a toddler?â, the dark-haired women groaned in response.
âExcuse me?â, you replied, pretending to be offended.
âI said what I said.â, Ingrid declared who tried her best to suppress a smile.
âCanât you make some chicken nuggies?â, you asked your girlfriend, giving her puppy-eyes which you hoped would warm her Scandinavian heart. Often this worked out perfectly fine.
âPlease, please, please.â, Mapi supported your suggestion loudly.
âGirls, seriously?â, Ingrid sighed, the defender and you knew from her sigh alone that you both had won in the question of whatâs going to be for dinner.
A knocking on the door interrupted the discussion. You opened the door for Esmee and led her into the kitchen.
âHi everyone. Ingrid, what are you cooking? Can I help you?â, the young player asked politely, peeking over the shoulder of the tall Norwegian.
âIâm making pum-âŚâ, she started, one last attempt to get someone on her side.
âWeâre having chickie nuggies!â, Mapi and you announced simultaneously.
Finally, Ingrid gave in: âYes, weâre having chicken nuggetsâŚâ
âThanks, love.â, you thanked her, beaming.
A small smile appeared on her face as she nudged your side: âYouâre lucky I love you two so much.â
âWe love you too, amor.â, Mapi replied, kissing Ingrids right cheek while you got on your tiptoes to kiss her left.
Esmee cleared her throat, making sure you hadnât forgotten that you had a visitor.
Blushing, Ingrid pushed the two of you away and got to work.
You grinned at Esmee: âHope you like nuggets, Esmee.â
She nodded happily, looking a bit relieved that it wasnât pumpkin soup: âI do.â
âThen sit down while Ingrid shows us her cooking skills.â, you joked.
Ingrid rolled her eyes next to you. Of the three of you, she was definitely the best cook so making chicken nuggets was beneath her actual cooking skills.
Still, she managed to present you with a batch of perfectly crispy nuggets, a homemade dipping sauce and a bowl of fresh salad. You were all athletes after all.
âThis isâŚâ; Esmee said between two mouthfuls of salad.
âDelicious as always.â, Mapi completed the sentence for her, gleefully biting into a nugget.
Ingrid smiled across the table, seemingly happy that you all enjoyed her food: âThank you, girls.â
âYouâre the best cook.â, you agreed with the others.
âIâll try the pumpkin soup another time though.â, the Norwegian warned you jokingly.
âI promise weâll try it then.â, you assured her. It was only fair that she would get her pumpkin soup.
âAppreciate it.â
The food was quickly gone, leaving the table cluttered with empty dishes.
Mapi leaned back in her chair with a yawn: âNow time for a nap.â
âThanks for the dinner, girls.â, Esmee said after she made sure that Ingrid didnât want any help washing dishes.
âNo worries, youâre always welcome here.â, you assured the young player and pulled her into a quick hug before she left.
You smiled to yourself as you closed the door behind her, you loved providing a safe space for the young players, making sure they had everything they needed even if it was just dinner.
âY/n, Ingrid, hurry up!â, you heard Mapi call from the living room.
Ingrid left the kitchen, rolling her eyes: âThat kid has no patience.â
âYou still love it.â, you laughed as the two of you entered the living room where Mapi laid sprawled out on the sofa.
âCome into my arms, my loves.â, she laughed, making space for both of you on each side.
You didnât even think twice as you launched yourself onto the sofa: âComing!â
âAll here.â, Ingrid smiled as she took the other side of the sofa.
Mapi sighed with content, wrapping one arm around each of you: âThatâs how I like it.â
âSandwiched on the sofa? We know.â, you teased her.
Ingrid chuckled lightly, reaching over Mapi and intertwined her fingers with yours: âMe too. With my two favourite children.â
With her eyes already closed, Mapi mumbled something unintelligible, already snoozing.
You cuddled closer into her side.
There was nothing better to do on your free day.
#ingrid engen#ingrid engen imagine#mapi leon#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon imagine#ingrid engen x mapi leon x reader#woso x reader#woso#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso community#woso one shot#woso oneshot#barca femeni#mapi leon x ingrid engen x reader#ingrid engen x reader#mapi leĂłn#barcelona femeni#fcb femeni#esmee brugts#esmee brugts x reader#barca femeni x reader
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