#and then everything else hit me like a truck | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cowboybeepboop · 3 months ago

Text

Wild ride

"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."

You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 5206

Summary: Tyler comforts you through a panic attack after a storm. He then rescues you from your fight with Javi. You take a drive to a hotel and then things get very heated.

a/n: this is entirely a reader insert to the movie bc I thought it would fit so perfectly. Also this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever wrote lmao 😭 Hopefully you enjoy!

When you moved to New York it wasn’t just to get away from the place where your friends all died. It was because you couldn’t live there without feeling guilt about being the reason everyone was out there to begin with. The shame and guilt was burning you, inside and out. All for what? What did it get you? Nothing. If you couldn’t tame a tornado you were going to do everything in your power to help people prepare and get out before it was too late. So when Javi came to you asking for help with storm par, you wanted to tell him no. You wanted to say that there was no way you could ever possibly go back not after what you did.

But when he was explaining how they would be making a perfect 3D scan of the tornado and how it can be used to help save lives, you knew you had to help. He was right. You could get him close enough to the tornado in order to set up the portable units.

As time passes you find yourself more intrigued by the self proclaimed “Tornado Wrangler”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. At the same time though, he’s frustrating. Like all he cares about is chasing the storm and making money instead of realizing how much damage these things cause.

“Javi, we have to help.” You say sternly as he keeps talking about the stupid sensor. “Javi! It’s a small town, they’re going to need all the help they can get, we need to help.” He sighs.

“Alright, alright. I’ll look for it later, okay?” You press a hand to his arm gently. “You made a good call. They really do need our help.” Javi pulls off to the side of the road, taking the keys out. You quickly leave the truck and go off to help.

We worked through the afternoon, finding lost heirlooms, important documents, and small mementos that people had thought were lost forever. Each time, their faces would light up with relief, and I’d feel a small sense of satisfaction, knowing I could make a difference.

The sun had broken through the clouds, casting long shadows over the town. The cleanup was far from over, but the worst was behind us. People were starting to talk again, making plans to rebuild. There was a sense of hope in the air, fragile but growing stronger with each passing minute.

You’re watching Javi and Scott interacting with an old guy and someone who lost their bar. Your eyebrows furrow as they offer him a card. “Didn’t know storm par was in the business of helping people,” you hear the familiar cowboy’s voice ringing through the air.

”Well, from what I see they’re trying to make a difference.” You turn to look at Tyler, wrapping your arms around your upper body.

”That’s one way of putting it,” he narrows his eyes while looking behind you at Javi.

“What?” you clench your jaw.

“Do you even know who you’re chasing for?”, his voice raises slightly. ”How much more do these people got to lose before y’all are done making a difference?” His face tightens as he grinds his teeth slightly.

”Sorry, says the guy setting up shop selling t-shirts and mugs after a storm’s hit.” You turn around before he can answer. Pulling the keys Javi gave you out of your pocket. Right as you’re reaching for the door, Lily yells your name.

”Hey, take some food,” she hands you a brown takeout box and a water bottle.

”Oh, I don’t have any cash on me,” you give a half smile.

”It’s okay, that’s why we're always selling shirts and mugs, so we can help give people food.” You shake your head as your eyes widen slightly.

”Then you should keep it, in case you run out.” She hands you the water bottle.

“At least take the water, stay hydrated.” You nod and tell her to stay safe.

Once you get back to the motel you quickly take a shower. Sitting down on the bed with your laptop you look up “Marshall Riggs” you bite down on your cheek, your eyes closing after you read up on him. Pinching your nose bridge you let out a sigh, closing the device.

There’s a knock at the door, you get up slowly and open it. “Some of Javi’s crew said you were staying down by the rodeo.” You don’t say anything in return so he offers you a small pizza box. “Thought you might be hungry,” you take it and shut the door in his face.

You reopen the door, “Thank you, Tyler.” He smiles sweetly.

“How are you doin’, after all that?” Your head nods softly. “How about I show you something nice, city girl.” He offers you his arm.

”And what’s that?” Stepping out of your room you close and lock the door before taking his arm. He doesn’t reply but instead leads you to the stadium at the rodeo. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the dusty rodeo grounds. The air buzzed with excitement and the scent of grilled food, mingling with the earthy smell of the arena. Families filled the bleachers, kids waving flags and clutching cotton candy, while seasoned rodeo-goers leaned against the rails, hats tipped low, eyes sharp with anticipation.

As the night wore on, the rodeo continued—steer wrestling, bronc riding, and more, each event bringing its own excitement and challenges. The crowd cheered, laughed, and gasped, caught up in the spectacle. In the arena, cowboys were competing in the team roping event. Dust kicked up as the horses thundered forward, riders expertly casting their lassos around the horns of the steers. The crowd roared with approval when a duo managed to secure a flawless catch, the announcer’s voice booming in congratulations.

“So tell me about yourself city girl,” Tyler’s voice is low and gentle.

“You know you keep calling me that,” you turn to him, “ but this isn’t my first rodeo, I grew up here in Oklahoma.” Turning back to the events in front of you.

“Would you look at that, I finally learned something about you.” His lips curve up as he admires your side profile.

Back behind the scenes, in the holding pens, a few of the seasoned ranch hands started to glance nervously at the sky. They could see it now—a line of dark, swirling clouds on the horizon, moving faster than seemed natural. A wind had picked up, too, sharper and colder than it had been just minutes ago. But the rodeo continued, the excitement and noise drowning out any sense of unease.

A leaf falls onto your head, you reach your hand up into the air as you watch the leaves fall around you. “Tyler, the air feels heavy, this isn’t right.”

In the ring, the next event was starting: the barrel racing. A young girl was about to make her run when a sharp crack of thunder boomed overhead, so loud it momentarily drowned out the announcer. The crowd murmured, looking up at the sky as the first raindrops began to fall. But as she rounded the first barrel, the wind hit, strong and fierce, whipping dust and debris across the arena. The rain intensified, turning into a heavy downpour that sent people in the stands scrambling for cover. The announcer tried to keep up the energy, but his voice was lost in the wind. In the distance, a low, ominous rumble filled the air—not thunder this time, but something far more menacing.

There's barely time to react before the rodeo’s emergency siren began to wail, a long, shrill warning that sent a chill down everyone’s spine. People were running, some heading for their cars, others diving for the nearest ditch or sturdy structure. The craze of people began pushing and trampling one another, Tyler quickly grabs a woman who fell. He helps her up to her feet and guides you toward the hotel you’re staying at.

“There! Let’s check for a basement,” you nod as you both run inside. There’s a couple arguing with the clerk, you’re checking around for a doorway that might lead to a basement. Tyler tries to ask the man working the front desk but to no avail. “Outside, there’s an empty pool.” You yell to Tyler, “we can try there” he nods and you begin leading the young mother and daughter out the door, Owen’s and the man follow close behind. Once you get the mother and girl down you jump in. Directing them toward the open piping. “Hold on there, cover her head.”

You grasp onto the pipes holding on tight as you feel Tyler’s chest pressing against your back. He keeps his hands tight around the bars, he keeps himself tight against you making sure you don’t move.

“You’re gonna be okay, keep holding on. I’ve got you. I’ve got you” he’s whispering into your ear. You tightly squeeze your eyes shut feeling as though you’re being transported back to the day when you lost everything.

It started with a flutter in your chest, like the faint rustling of wings. You tried to ignore it, chalking it up to nerves, but the flutter didn’t go away. Instead, it grew stronger, spreading through your body like wildfire. Your breathing quickened, shallow and rapid, each breath feeling like it wasn’t enough, like there wasn’t enough air.

It started with trembling hands, and then your whole body followed, shaking uncontrollably. Feeling lightheaded, as if the ground beneath you had suddenly disappeared, leaving you suspended in a void. My chest tightened, squeezing tighter and tighter, making it even harder to breathe.

As quickly as the storm had begun, it passed over. Tyler wraps his arms around you. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” Your body continues to shake as you can’t seem to breathe. “It’s okay, just follow my breathing,” he turns you around so your face is in his chest.

”Deep breaths, in and out,” Tyler gives gentle directions as he rubs his palms over your arms.

”I think I’m okay now..” your voice is soft and hoarse as you choke the words out. His cold, rough hand gently brushes the hair from your face.

“You look like you’ve been through hell tonight.” He says, while helping you out of the pool. You stifle a small laugh in response. Boone and the rest of his crew come up to the pair of you, asking if you’re both alright.

“Y/N, baby. Are you okay?” Javi appears behind you, his hands gently pressing into your hips as he pulls you into a tight hug.

Tyler feels a pang of jealousy as he watches Javi slide his hands lovingly around your hips and pull you into the hug. He tries to shake the feeling, reminding himself that it’s not his place to care. Still, he can’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over him.

“I came as soon as I heard,” his eyes filled with worry as you looked up at him. “Where did you hide out? The pool?” You just nod in response, finding comfort in his arms. Javi keeps repeatedly asking if you’re okay, running his fingers through your hair and resting one hand on your waist.

“Yes, I’m okay. It’s okay,” you pull away from him, giving a soft smile. “I was with Tyler the whole time, he made sure I was okay.” He nods but his eyes flicker behind you.

“Javi, your little girlfriend is fine, now let's get to work.” Scott says loudly, catching the attention of Tyler and Lily. “Apparently this place was family owned so I’m gonna start working on numbers. Riggs is gonna want those first thing.” His voice and face are both emotionless and cold, sending a slight shiver down your spine.

“Wait wait,” you hold onto his arm. “What exactly is Riggs getting out of all your data collection?”

“What’s the matter?” He scratches his neck and awkward expression flashing over his features.

“Is profiting off of people’s tragedy part of your business plan? Why are you doing this?” You pull away from his body.

“Riggs is offering these people a way to move on with their lives.” He takes a step back from you, his voice raising slightly.

“Swooping in and taking advantage of people, who have just lost everything” you take a deep breath to steady your shaky voice “You have no idea what that’s like”

“I don’t know what that’s like?” His fist clenches “How about losing three of my best friends while you were trying to land a big fat grant for your science project?”

Your eyes fill with fresh tears as you look up at him, lip quivering. “Take your keys, I’m done.” You toss them at his feet walking off as fast as you can. Finding yourself drawn to Tyler and his wrangler team.

Tyler witnessed the whole exchange, and his protective instinct flares up again. He watches you stomp away from Javi, a mixture of anger and concern etched on his face. He notices the tears in your eyes and the wobble in your lip. He steps forward and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

“Can you just take me somewhere please?” Your voice trembles while Javi yells after you. Asking you not to leave like this.

Tyler shoots a warning glare over his shoulder at Javi before turning back to you. “Of course, darling. Anywhere you want to go.” Owen’s voice is soft and soothing, a stark contrast to his rough exterior.

He gently takes your elbow, steering you away from Javi, and his crew. Tyler leads you over to his Truck in the parking lot where the motel once was, his hand still on your elbow. Tyler opens the passenger door and guides you onto the seat, shutting the door before making his way around to the driver's side.

A sigh escapes your lips as you relax into the seat. You softly massage your nose bridge keeping your eyes squeezed shut as a tear escapes one of your eyes.

Tyler watches you silently as you try to regain your composure. He can sense the pain and hurt radiating off of you, and he wishes he could take it all away. After a few moments, he breaks the silence. “Hey, look at me for a second.” He puts his hand on your knee rubbing small circles into your skin.

You open up your eyes, turning to look at him. Your lip still quivering slightly. Tyler’s heart aches as he looks into your tearful eyes. He reaches out and gently wipes the tear away with his thumb, his rough hands surprisingly tender against your face.

“Hey, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. You’re gonna stay with me tonight, okay?” His hand travels down your cheek as he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Before he starts the car he reaches into the backseat pulling out one of his hats, putting it on with his signature smile.

“You know, you deserve way better than that,” he turns the keys in the ignition. “You can do way better than him anyway.” You giggle while brushing your teary eyes.

“Do you think Javi and I are a couple?” Your once sorrow filled eyes light up with your laugh. A small smile tugs at the corner of Tyler's mouth as he watches you laugh. The sight of your smile warms his heart, and the pang of jealousy eases a bit.

“I mean, he seemed pretty possessive of you back there. And the way he was touchin’ up on you…” he lets his voice trail off, his jaw clenching slightly at the memory.

“Don’t tell me that makes you jealous,” a small smirk decorates your lips. You lean closer to his side, turning your body to further face him.

Tyler’s breath hitches as you lean closer to him, a wave of electricity coursing through his veins. He tries to keep his cool, but the hint of possessiveness flickers in his eyes once again.

“Jealous? Me?” he scoffs, trying to convince himself more than you.

Your eyes light up “Oh you’re totally jealous,” you brush your fingers over the skin on his arms, moving your hand to meet his.

A shiver runs down Tyler’s spine as your fingers travel along his skin, his heartbeat quickening at your touch. He tries to maintain a cool demeanor, but the flutter in his chest gives him away.

“Jealous? Of that jackass?”, his voice a little rougher this time. He looks down at your hand in his, noticing how small and delicate it looks against his own, rough and calloused hands. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to interlace his fingers with yours.

“Is that so?” You interlock your fingers with his as you lean over to kiss his temple. “It’s okay to be jealous, just tell me you don’t like seeing other men touching me,” you whisper into his ear, your voice filled with amusement.

Tyler takes a sharp breath as you interlace your fingers with his, his hand clamping tight around yours. “It does make me jealous,” he admits, his voice a gravelly whisper. His free hand squeezes the steering wheel, the muscles in his arm flexing tightly. “Alright, I don’t like seeing other men touchin’ you.” He brushes his thumb over the top of your hand.

A blush quickly rises up your face as you squeeze his hand firmly. Resting your head against his shoulder you bite down on the inside of your cheek. “Are we almost to a hotel?” Your heart races as you feel the muscles in his arm flexing.

Tyler glances out the window at the passing scenery, trying to distract himself from the feeling of you resting against his shoulder. He clears his throat before speaking, his voice still low and rough.

“We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, the gentle movement betraying the tension in his body. He can’t help but steal a glance down at you, taking in your blushing face and the way you bite down on your lip. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.

Using your free hand you run your fingers over his thigh, letting your mind wander as you think about your plans for the night. Trailing your hand closer and closer to his hips teasingly.

Tyler’s breath hitches as you run your fingers along his thigh, his body tense as you trail your hand closer to his hips. His mind starts racing with impure thoughts, visions of you pinned beneath him, your skin against his. He swallows hard, his muscles tensing further as he tries to control himself.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game, you know that?” his voice low and rough, almost coming out as a growl.

“Yeah?” You run your fingers over his golden belt buckle, “I like dangerous games,” your tongue poking out as you lick your bottom lip.

Tyler swallows hard when you touch his golden belt buckle, his body shuddering under your touch. He shifts in his seat, trying to hide the effect you’re having on him while also struggling to keep his eyes on the road.

“Oh yeah? How dangerous are you willing to go?” he asks, his voice thick with desire. He glances down at your tongue on your lip, his eyes darkening as he imagines what it would feel like against his skin.

“That depends, love,” you press soft kisses into his neck, moving your hand from his, resting it on his chest. “How far are you gonna wanna go?” Your eyes flicker to the hotel sign as the truck pulls into the parking lot.

Tyler lets out a shaky breath as you pepper kisses along his neck, his heart stuttering at the feeling of your lips on his skin. He places a hand over yours on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart thundering beneath your touch.

“Damn, darlin’, you’re really testing my limits right now.” he manages to say, his voice a growl. “But if it were up to me I’d go as far as you’d let me.”

He looks out the window as the truck pulls into the hotel parking lot, his mind racing with all the possibilities that the night holds. He leaps out of the truck running to your side to open the door for you.

“Well, you better hurry up and find us a room then,” you shut the door behind you. You pull the hat from his head, placing it on yours.

Tyler watches you stride ahead of him, his eyes drinking in the sight of his hat sitting on your head. He adjusts his jeans, trying to hide the stiffness growing in his groin as he follows you up to the hotel check-in desk.

“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” he mutters to you as he gets the room keys from the attendant. You flash him an innocent smile as you step into the elevator.

“But you’re too cute when you’re flustered.” Looking up at him you press both hands against his well-built abs. You slip your thigh between his legs as he reaches for the buttons on the elevator, pressing into his groin.

Tyler’s breath hitches at the feel of your hands on his stomach, his muscles flexing under your touch. His heart nearly pounds out of his chest as your thigh brushes against his stiffness, a guttural groan escaping his lips at the contact.

“Jesus, darlin'...you’re gonna be the death of me.” he pants, the words thick with lust. He struggles with the elevator buttons, his hands fumbling as his mind becomes increasingly clouded with need.

You stand up on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear “That’s the plan,”. You move one hand up to his jaw, pulling his face to yours. “Are you gonna kiss me yet?” You mumble.

Tyler swallows hard as you tease his ear with your hot breath, his body growing taut with desire. He looks down at your face, his gaze fixated on your lips as you speak. The words send a shiver down his spine, his restraint slipping by the second.

“You want me to kiss you, darlin’?” his lips hover just above your own. He runs a thumb across your lower lip, his eyes darkened by lust.

“Tyler, I want you to do much more than just kiss me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you press your chest against his. “Please,” you breathe out. The elevator dings as you get to the floor of your room.

Tyler’s control snaps at your words, a low growl escaping his lips as you press against him. He grabs your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you close, the pleading tone of your voice nearly undoing him.

“Don’t gotta ask me twice, darlin’” He mutters, his voice low and gravelly. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the elevator and towards your room. You giggle into his ear while he unlocks the door.

Tyler grins at the sound of your giggles, his chest rumbling with a satisfied chuckle. He kicks the hotel door open, his eyes locking on the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. He sets you down on the edge of the bed, towering over you as he places his hands on your thighs. You both kick your shoes off really quickly before getting back to it.

Your hand goes to the back of his neck as you pull his face to yours. You kiss him with hunger. Your free hand sliding up his shirt as you feel his smooth abs.

Tyler groans deep in his throat as you pull him towards you, his body responding instantly to your touch. He devours your lips with a primal need, his tongue exploring your mouth as he presses his body up against yours. His muscles twitch under your hand, fire spreading through his veins as you glide your fingers across his abs.

“Goddamn it, Y/N… you're makin' me crazy.” he gasps, his voice thick with desire. He kisses you again, his hands roaming up your thighs, tracing the curves of your body with rough yet tender caresses.

Your hands trail down his abdomen, landing on his belt buckle once again. Your fingers fumble with his belt before successfully pulling it out. Breaking the kiss you quickly remove your shirt, throwing it to the corner of the room.

“Mm Ty…” sucking on your bottom lip as you lean back on your hands while looking up at him seductively.

Tyler sucks in a sharp breath, his body tensing under your touch. Once you remove your shirt, revealing the soft skin beneath, his gaze trails over your body, his eyes darkened by lust. He watches you lean back on the bed, your eyes locking with his in a sultry gaze.

“Mmm darlin’...” you sit up and pull him closer by the loops on his jeans, his strong legs coming between your own, spreading them apart. Lifting up his shirt you press kisses all over his tanned skin.

He reaches his hand out to touch your exposed skin, his fingers gently tracing your collarbone. “Then why don’t you do something about it baby?” You ask in a low tone.

His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer as you spread your legs even wider for him. “Oh baby, you don't know what you're gettin' yourself into” he whispers, his voice rumbling with need.

He suddenly grips your hips tightly and flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours as he pins you against the bed. Reaching up you pull his shirt over his head almost moaning at the sight of his toned body.

He smirks as he watches your eyes rake over him, his ego growing at your reaction. “You like what you see, Y/N?” He asks, his voice rough with desire as he looks down at you, his body pressing against yours.

“Most definitely,” you capture his lips in a deep kiss, maneuvering to put him on his back, straddling his hips. Moving back you unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. Pulling the pants off his hips you smile to yourself as you see how worked up you got him. Your hand slips into his boxers wrapping around his length.

He lets out a guttural moan, body arching into yours at the contact. “Oh God, baby…” he gasps, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a string of curses. Tyler's sharp intake of breath was your reward, and you relish in the feeling of power it gives you. He grips the bed sheets tightly as you pull his dick out, wrapping your lips around the tip.

“Fuck,” he moans as you pull off and sit back on the bed, making sure your teasing antics continue. All you really want is for Tyler to take complete control and you know exactly how to make him. With slow, purposeful movements, you remove your bra, freeing your breasts and running gentle hands over your own body, nipples hardening under your touch. Then you sit back, pulling your panties off, giving him a show.

Tyler's breathing quickens, his desire palpable. "Damn it, Y/N, you know what I want," he said, his voice thick with need. "Stop teasing and give it to me."

A slow, seductive smile spreads across your face. "I'm not teasing, Tyler," you say, reaching for his hand and placing it on your thigh. "I'm just getting started." Guiding his hand, you slowly part your legs, exposing your wet, eager pussy to his touch. Tyler's fingers delve between the folds, his touch both gentle and demanding. You moan, eyebrows furrowing as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back while you relish in the sensation.

"That's it," you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows furrow with pleasure. "Touch me, Tyler. Make me cum." Your voice comes out in a gentle beg.

Tyler's other hand joins the first, exploring your most intimate places, his thumbs circling your clit as he plunged his fingers into the tight hole. Your hips buck as you begin riding his hands with waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"Yes, just like that," you pant, your body trembling. "Oh, God, Tyler, don't stop. I'm so close."

Tyler quickens his pace, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let me feel you fall apart."

With a sharp cry, you climax, your body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure rips through your entire body. Tyler continues working his magic, drawing out your orgasm and prolonging the exquisite sensation.

Finally, as the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse into the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch a breath. Tyler hovers over your frame, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of triumph and desire.

"That," he said, his voice raw, "was just the beginning. Especially after all of that teasing you did,” his voice low and sultry. Tyler's lips curve into a devilish smile as he positions himself between your trembling legs. In one smooth thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. Moaning at the stretch, your body welcomes the invasion.

Tyler begin to move, his hips driving into you with a rhythmic pace. Meeting his thrusts, your nails digging into his back as you urge him on. The bed creaks in time with their passionate dance, the sound of your guys’s passionate gasps and moans filling the room.

"Harder, Tyler," you moan, your body craving much more. "Fuck me harder."

Tyler obliges, his movements becoming more urgent as he plunges into you again and again. The room echos with the sounds of your carnal coupling, the air heavy with the scent of sex.

Your body coils tight once more, climbing towards another orgasm. "I'm gonna cum again," you cry out, voice hoarse. "Don't stop, Tyler, please don't stop."

Tyler grunts his response, his own orgasm building. He reaches between their bodies, his fingers finding your slightly swollen clit and rubbing it in circles. It was all the stimulation you needed, and with a shout of release, you shatter into pieces, juices flooding around Tyler's hard cock.

Feeling you contracting around him, Tyler finally let go, thrusting deeply into you. Moaning into your ear as he spilled his seed, filling you with his warmth. You both cling to each other, breathing coming in ragged gasps as the two of you ride out the waves of your shared ecstasy. Collapsing onto the bed, bodies still joined, Tyler rolls onto his back, bringing your exhausted body with him so laying sprawled on top of him.

"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."

You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.

a/n (again): sorry just wanted to say that I’m working on making some more twisters smut, but i also have top gun maverick smut if y’all wanna check that out 😝🙏

#smut #tyler owens #twisters #twisters 2024 #glenn powell #glen powell #Tyler owens reader #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x reader smut #tyler owens x you smut #twisters2024 glen powell

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rootedinrevisions · 2 months ago

Text

Enough for You: Part 2

SUMMARY: After deciding you need time away, you ask Tyler for some space to process everything. During your absence, Tyler finds himself constantly thinking about you, realizing how much he misses your presence and what you mean to him. Struggling with how to approach the situation, Tyler begins sending you small, thoughtful gifts, hoping to keep some connection alive while respecting your need for time. Each gift carries a subtle message, his way of reminding you of his feelings without overstepping. Finally, unable to stay away any longer, Tyler shows up at your door, ready to talk and confront the growing emotions between you both.

WARNINGS: More Angst. (with a little fluff)

WORD COUNT: 5.2k

OTHER PARTS: PART 1

NOTE: There will be a PART 3! I have it mostly written and just need to finish editing it. Part 2 got away from me so I decided to break it up as to not have one crazy long fic.

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog

The team gathered around the RV, tension simmering beneath the surface. Things hadn't been the same since Kate joined, and you could feel the shift in every quiet conversation, every glance that Tyler cast in her direction. After the last storm chase, when Tyler sat next to you and apologized for breaking your heart, you knew it was time to make a decision. You couldn’t stay—not with the constant reminders of everything you wished for but couldn’t have.

After a sleepless night, you made your decision. You requested a leave of absence from the team—just two weeks to get your mind straight, to figure out if you could stay and watch Tyler build a life with someone else. When you approached Tyler, he looked at you with a mix of regret and reluctance, clearly not wanting you to go but knowing he had no right to stop you.

“I need time,” you said softly, your voice steady but your heart anything but. “I just…I need to clear my head, and figure out what’s next for me.”

Tyler's eyes searched yours, his jaw tightening as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “If that’s what you need,” he said quietly, “I won’t stop you. But…I’m gonna miss you around here.”

You nodded, knowing he meant it, but it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough, not when he had already chosen someone else. “I’ll be back in two weeks,” you told him, and without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, feeling the weight of his gaze on your back.

Tyler stepped into the familiar café, the warm smell of espresso and freshly baked pastries hitting him as he waited in line. He pulled out his phone, scrolling absently through messages and notifications, his mind elsewhere. You’d been gone for three days now—three long, silent days. The truck was quieter without your voice, without your little side comments or the music you always played to keep everyone’s spirits up during long chases.

Dexter had grabbed his coffee the first morning you were gone. He hadn’t even noticed at first—it wasn’t quite right, but he’d brushed it off. Just a small thing, nothing major. Today, though, as he stood in line, he realized he didn’t even know what he wanted. You always got his order just right without him even having to ask.

The barista behind the counter smiled at him, her pen poised over the notepad. “What can I get for you?”

Tyler opened his mouth, then paused. Was it a double shot of espresso or a single? Did he like anything else added to it? God, how had he never paid attention to this before?

“Uh…” he hesitated, trying to piece it together. “Just a regular coffee, I guess. With…sugar?”

The barista gave him a polite nod, but he could tell she was already moving on, another nameless face in the line of customers. He sighed as he handed her his card, feeling oddly unsettled by the whole interaction. Black coffee wasn’t right—he knew that much. He’d drink it, but it wouldn’t be what he actually wanted. Just another thing that wasn’t right anymore.

As he took the cup and left the café, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. It wasn’t the coffee that was bothering him. It was the fact that you weren’t there to get it right for him, to know the little things he hadn’t even realized mattered. It hit him, harder than he expected. He’d taken you for granted—your presence, your attention to detail, the way you just knew him in ways no one else ever did. And now, with you gone, he felt the emptiness in every small part of his day.

Tyler climbed back into his truck, setting the coffee in the cup holder without touching it. He sat there for a moment, staring at it, the silence around him feeling heavier than it ever had before. You weren’t there, and for the first time, he was starting to realize how much it bothered him.

The truck rumbled down the highway, the storm clouds gathering on the horizon. Boone was riding shotgun, his hand casually scrolling through his phone as he played DJ for the drive. Tyler had barely noticed at first, too focused on the darkening sky ahead, but as the third song in a row played, something nagged at him.

It wasn’t that Boone had bad taste in music—he didn’t. It was just that none of these songs hit quite right. The rhythm was off, the mood wasn’t there, and Tyler felt an uncomfortable itch in the back of his mind, like something was missing.

The music was background noise, sure, but when you were the one picking the playlist, it had never felt like just noise. Somehow, you always knew exactly what to play. Whether it was an old classic rock song he loved or something new that perfectly matched the mood, every song you chose seemed to be one of his favorites. It was uncanny, really, how well you knew him.

Boone scrolled through another song, switching it halfway through. Tyler’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, the silence between songs suddenly feeling heavier.

“Everything good, man?” Boone asked, glancing over at him.

“Yeah,” Tyler muttered, though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. He didn’t say anything, but inside, his thoughts were racing. How had he never noticed before? All those times you were riding beside him, picking the perfect song, knowing his favorite tracks better than anyone else… It was like you could read his mind. Or maybe it was something else—something deeper.

Boone finally settled on another song, some alt-rock tune Tyler didn’t recognize, and the sound filled the cab again. But it didn’t feel right. None of it did. The whole drive felt off without you there beside him, smiling softly as you hummed along to the music, your eyes flicking over to him when a particularly good song came on.

Tyler’s chest tightened. You’d always been there, quietly in tune with him, noticing things no one else did. It was in the way you picked the songs, the way you knew when he needed silence, or when to play something loud to get his energy up before a storm. It was in the little things, all the details he hadn’t appreciated before.

How had he been so blind?

He thought about you now, at home, away from the team, from him. He thought about all those moments—so many little things that added up to something big, something he hadn’t let himself see. The music was just one piece of it, but now that he was noticing, he couldn’t stop. The playlist had always been yours, just like so many other parts of his life.

Boone’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You good with this song?”

Tyler blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Yeah,” he said, though the truth was, no, he wasn’t. Not at all.

He missed you. And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Tyler's hand hovered over his phone, thumb tracing the edge of the screen as the truck rumbled beneath him. They were pulling off to the side of the road, another quick pit stop before the storm hit. The others were already filing out of the truck, stretching and talking about what was ahead as they made their way into the gas station for drinks and snacks. But Tyler’s mind wasn’t on the storm, or the chase, or even the team. It was on you.

He should call. He needed to call. He could feel the weight of your absence settling deeper with every passing mile, every quiet moment that used to be filled by your voice or your laugh. The last few days had been hell without you. Coffee tasted wrong, the music sounded off, and for the life of him, he couldn’t shake the hollow feeling in his chest.

His finger hovered over your name in his contacts, but then it hit him, hard, like a punch straight to the gut: those words you said to him before you left. “I just want to go back to before. Before I met you. Before I let myself believe that there was a chance.”

He closed his eyes, the memory slamming into him with full force. The look on your face, the tremble in your voice—God, how had he let it get to that point? How had he been so blind, so caught up in everything else that he never noticed the way you felt, the way you saw him? All those moments, all those signs, and he missed every single one of them.

The phone slipped from his hand and landed on the seat beside him with a dull thud. His chest tightened, shame twisting deep in his gut. You’d believed there was a chance. And he’d taken that hope and crushed it. He’d hurt you, someone who’d always been there for him, always knew what he needed before he even asked. You’d been everything.And all he did was break you. And he hadn’t been able to see it until now.

Tyler’s jaw clenched as he stared down at his phone. He could call you, tell you he missed you. He could apologize, say all the things he should have said before. But would it even matter? You were done with him. He could still hear it in your voice when you walked away—how tired you sounded. How heartbroken. He’d made you feel like you weren’t enough, and the truth was, you were more than enough. You’d always been more than enough.

He was the one who didn’t deserve you. He was the one who wasn’t enough for you.

His hand curled into a fist, the phone still lying untouched beside him. He’d been blind, selfish, wrapped up in his own world while you quietly slipped through his fingers. The thought of you never answering his call, of you moving on without him, stung like hell. But why would you answer? After everything he’d done—or failed to do—why would you want anything to do with him?

He let out a breath, heavy and shaky, feeling the full weight of his regret pressing down on him. He didn’t deserve you. Not after what he’d done. Not after how blind he’d been to how much you’d cared.

Later that night, Tyler sat on the edge of his bed, the quiet of his room pressing in on him. The team had settled in at the small motel, the storm still hours away from reaching them. Normally, nights like these were his favorite—calm before the chaos, time to relax before the adrenaline kicked in. But tonight, there was no calm. Just the heavy weight of everything he’d been trying to ignore since you left.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tugging open his duffel bag to pull out a pair of sweatpants. But as he reached for them, his hand brushed against something solid at the bottom of the bag. Frowning, he pushed aside his clothes until his fingers closed around a book—a book he hadn’t touched in weeks.

He stared down at the cover, his heart giving a sharp twist. The Self-Help Guide to Letting Go of the Past. He had forgotten all about it, shoved in the bottom of his bag after he’d lent it to you. You’d asked for it just last week, something about being curious, but at the time, it hadn’t made much sense to him. You’d never been into these kinds of books before.

Tyler’s thumb traced the worn edges of the cover as the memory of that conversation came rushing back. You’d caught him in the middle of a busy day, the two of you sitting in the RV while the rest of the team was setting up for the next chase. You’d looked almost nervous when you asked if you could borrow it, your voice light, like you were trying to keep things casual. He hadn’t thought much of it then, just handed it over without a second thought, teasing you a little about branching out into self-help.

But now, it hit him all at once. You hadn’t wanted the book. You hadn’t been interested in the advice it had to offer. You’d been looking for something—anything—to connect with him, to spark a conversation, to get his attention. It was just another one of those small things you did that he never took the time to understand.

His chest tightened painfully as he stared at the book, the realization settling over him like a weight he couldn’t shake. You’d been trying to reach out, to bridge the gap between you two, even when he was too blind to notice. And now you were gone. You’d given up, walked away, and he couldn’t blame you. How could he, when he’d been so clueless?

His breath came out in a heavy exhale as he tossed the book onto the bed, running a hand down his face. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have missed all these little moments that showed just how much you cared? The music, the coffee, the book—none of it had seemed like much at the time. But now, with you gone, they all felt like pieces of a puzzle that he hadn’t bothered to put together until it was too late.

He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze fixed on the book lying open beside him. He thought about calling you again, his phone sitting within reach on the nightstand, but the same thoughts stopped him cold. You wouldn’t answer. Why would you? You were done trying to make things work with him. And after everything, he couldn’t blame you for that either.

Tyler’s hand curled into a fist, his frustration building. He wanted to fix this, wanted to make things right, but how could he, when he’d already let you down so badly? He’d missed his chance, and the thought of that—of losing you for good—made his chest ache in a way he hadn’t felt before.

The next morning, Tyler sat on the tailgate of his truck, absently sipping his coffee as the team went about their business. They were prepping for the day’s chase, double-checking equipment and reviewing the radar. Normally, he’d be in the thick of it, but his mind kept drifting, pulled in a direction he wasn’t ready to face.

Lily wandered over, her brow furrowed slightly as she eyed him. "You okay, Ty? You seem…distracted."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee—too sweet, as usual. "Just got a lot on my mind."

Lily gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it. She leaned against the truck beside him, crossing her arms. "You know, it’s kind of weird. Things have been off since she left. I mean, I knew she did a lot for the team, but…it’s more than that."

Tyler’s grip tightened around the cup, his jaw clenching. He didn’t need the reminder. Every day since you’d been gone, things felt off. The coffee wasn’t right, the music wasn’t right, hell, he wasn’t right. But he couldn’t put it into words—not without admitting what he’d been too stubborn to face.

Lily didn’t stop there. "She always knew what you liked, what you needed—even when you didn’t say it. You might not have noticed, but the rest of us did." She paused, giving him a sidelong glance. "It’s kind of strange not having her around. Things just don’t…flow like they used to."

Tyler said nothing, his mind racing as he took in her words. He hadn’t noticed how much you’d paid attention to him, all the little details you got right. But now that you were gone, it was painfully obvious. The realization gnawed at him, twisting the knot in his stomach even tighter.

Before he could respond, Boone approached, his usual easygoing smile replaced with a more serious expression. "Tyler, can I ask you something?"

Tyler nodded, relieved for the distraction—until Boone’s next words hit him like a punch.

"What’s the deal with you and Kate?"

Tyler blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

Boone raised an eyebrow. "Come on, man. It’s obvious something’s up. The way she’s been hanging around you, and now that…" He trailed off, his gaze flicking to the side. "Look, everyone’s been wondering."

Tyler let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t owe anyone an explanation—but the question hung in the air like an anchor, forcing him to confront what he’d been avoiding. "Kate and I… it’s just business. We work well together, but that’s it. She’s brilliant and could really be changing the game with this theory. I care about her, sure, but she’s not…"

He stopped, his words catching in his throat. But what? He didn’t know how to finish that sentence because the truth was sitting right there in front of him, and it was something he hadn’t wanted to face.

Boone’s gaze softened. "She’s not what, Ty? What’s going on?"

Tyler swallowed hard, the words heavy in his chest. "Kate’s not her," he finally admitted, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want to say it out loud. "The one I pushed away."

Boone nodded, his expression knowing. "You mean… her."

Tyler didn’t need to say your name. It was clear who they were talking about. He nodded, his jaw tightening as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions. "I messed up, Boone. She was always there, always…paying attention to everything, and I was too blind to see it. Now she’s gone, and I don’t think she wants anything to do with me."

Boone sighed, leaning back against the truck. "You know, Ty, you’re not the first guy to mess up. But you don’t have to be the guy who keeps messing up. If you care about her, you need to talk to her. And not through some half-assed text message or phone call."

Tyler glanced up, confused. "Then what do I do?"

Boone smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "You have to show her. Show her that she means something to you. It has to come from the heart. Do something that proves you see her, that you care, and that you’re willing to make it right."

Tyler let Boone’s words sink in, the weight of it settling over him. He knew he’d messed up—badly—and now he wasn’t sure how to fix it. But the idea of showing you how much he cared, of putting action behind the words he’d never said… it was the first thing that made sense in days.

But could he do it? Could he find the courage to face you after everything, after knowing that he was the one who made you feel like you were nothing more than an afterthought?

Tyler stared down at his cup, the taste bitter on his tongue. He had to try. He had to show you that you weren’t just another person in his life. You were the one person he couldn’t stop thinking about, the one he never should’ve let go.

Tyler stood in the parking lot of a gas station, his phone in hand as he stared at the DoorDash app. He’d scrolled through countless options, debating whether to go with something safe like pizza or take a risk. In the end, he decided on the riskier of the two options

He remembered how often you talked about that Chinese takeout place near your apartment, the one you always craved after long days. You’d even convinced him to try it once, and he’d never forgotten the way your eyes lit up when the food arrived. The memory was clearer than he expected, and now, standing alone in a parking lot, he wondered how he’d managed to let someone who knew him so well slip through his fingers.

He couldn’t remember your order. But he remembered that it was something with chicken. He used the pictures on the app and his memory to narrow it down to the dish he thought it was that you liked. With a deep breath, Tyler hit 'order' and added a note for the driver to leave the takeout at your door with a message: "For the long days. I know you love this place. —Tyler."

He hesitated before sending it, wondering if you’d even accept the delivery. Maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d throw the food out without a second thought. But a part of him hoped that you’d understand what he was trying to say—that this was his first step toward making things right.

You sat on the couch, the remnants of the Chinese takeout scattered across the coffee table in front of you. The familiar flavors had been a comfort, even if you were reluctant to admit it. When you first saw the delivery bag at your door, your heart had skipped a beat, reading the note that was attached.

For a moment, you’d considered ignoring it—pushing it away like you’d been trying to push away the thoughts of him. But after a long day, it felt easier to accept the gesture, at least for what it was: food. Nothing more.

Now, sitting here with your phone in your hand, you debated whether or not to send a message. It wasn’t like you owed him anything, but the gesture had been thoughtful in its simplicity. And a small part of you knew he wasn’t doing it to get something in return—at least, you hoped that wasn’t the case.

Finally, you typed out a quick message: "Thanks for the food. It was good."

You stared at the screen for a moment, your finger hovering over the send button. It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t emotional. It was just an acknowledgment. Before you could overthink it, you hit send.

A few seconds passed, and you saw the notification that the message had been delivered. No reply came immediately, and you didn’t expect one. After all, it wasn’t like this was going to fix things between the two of you. But somehow, sending that simple thank you felt like a tiny weight off your chest, even if it barely scratched the surface of the bigger mess you were still sorting through.

The next morning, Tyler paced around his room, racking his brain for the next move. The takeout had been a start, but he needed to do more. He needed to show you that he hadn’t forgotten the details, even if he’d been too blind to see them before.

His eyes landed on his phone again, this time opening a florist app. He wasn’t going to send roses. You hated roses. You’d said they were too cliché, something people picked when they didn’t really know the person. He wanted to send something that mattered.

Blue. Your favorite color. You’d mentioned it a few times, and while he didn’t know which flower you loved most, he figured blue would be a safe bet.

He scrolled through the bouquets until he found one that seemed perfect—a mix of blue hydrangeas, forget-me-nots, and white lilies. Simple, beautiful, and meaningful.

When he hit send, his heart pounded. It felt like such a small thing, but at the same time, it felt monumental. He was trying to show you that he was paying attention, that he knew you better than he’d let on.

The knock on the door was unexpected, especially after the Chinese takeout from yesterday. You weren’t sure what to expect this time, but as you opened the door and saw the delivery man holding a bouquet of blue flowers, your heart stuttered.

You took the bouquet, your eyes scanning the shades of blue nestled together in the arrangement. There were no roses—just as you’d once mentioned in passing. Instead, there were lilies, hydrangeas, and forget-me-nots. It was simple but thoughtful. He remembered.

As you set the bouquet on the kitchen counter, you caught sight of a small card tucked between the flowers.

“Not roses, just like you said. I hope you like these instead. –Tyler”

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you traced your fingers over the petals. For the first time since leaving the team, something stirred inside you—a mix of gratitude and maybe even the smallest bit of fondness. The forget-me-nots, in particular, caught your attention. They’d always been your favorite, and though you weren’t sure if he knew that or if it was just a lucky coincidence, it felt... special.

You sat down, flowers still in view, and grabbed your phone. Again, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond. But the flowers were different. They meant something more. He’d thought about this.

After a moment, you started typing: “The forget-me-nots are my favorite, by the way. For future reference…”

You hit send, and for a moment, you almost regretted it. Was that too much? But then you shook your head. No, it was just a small hint. A little crack in the wall you’d built. You weren’t letting him back in, but... you weren’t completely pushing him away either.

When your phone buzzed a few seconds later with a reply, you almost didn’t want to look. But curiosity got the best of you.

“Noted.”

It was simple, just like your message had been. But there was something in that word—Noted—that made you think maybe, just maybe, Tyler was trying to show that he wasn’t giving up. At least, not yet.

The sound of the doorbell jolted you from your thoughts. Another delivery? You stood up, your heart sinking slightly, bracing yourself for yet another gesture you weren’t sure how to interpret. When you opened the door, though, it wasn’t another delivery person—it was Tyler.

For a moment, you just stood there, frozen. Tyler was at your doorstep, looking both determined and vulnerable. He glanced at you, his eyes searching for something, maybe a hint of how you were feeling.

“Hi,” he said softly, as if unsure of how to begin.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He took a deep breath, his gaze shifting from the floor to your eyes. “I know this is probably the last thing you expected, and I know I don’t really have the right to be here. But I needed to see you.”

You stepped aside to let him in, your heart pounding. Tyler walked into the room, glancing around as if trying to take it all in.

“I want to start by saying that I’m truly sorry,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Not just for leaving like I did, but for not seeing how much I hurt you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and it’s clear that I messed up.”

You watched him, your eyes brimming with unshed tears. Tyler ran a hand through his hair, looking both pained and determined. “You know, I’ve been trying to adjust to how things are now, and I’ve realized just how much I miss you. Like, seriously. Boone’s music choices have been driving me nuts. It’s not even that he’s got bad taste, but I keep thinking about how you always knew exactly what songs I liked. And then there was the coffee—Dexter tried to get it for me, and it was all wrong. You always knew how I liked it. It’s the little things that I miss the most.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips despite yourself.

Tyler noticed and seemed to take a breath of relief. “And Kate… she’s a great person, but she’s just a professional colleague. I got caught up in this idea we were working on, and I was so intrigued that I didn’t see how it was affecting you. I should have never left the team like that. I’m sorry for that, too.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of hope and desperation. “But the real reason I’m here is because I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve had time to think about what I want, and it’s you. I love you. I love how you’re always there for me, how you know my favorite songs, how you care about the little things. I love your smile, your laugh, and even how you get annoyed with me sometimes. I’ve realized all the ways you’ve shown me that you care, and I’ve been blind to it.”

A heavy silence fell between you. Tyler’s eyes were pleading as he awaited your response. When one didn’t come after several moments he sighed. His shoulders tensed, and he began to fidget, anxiety evident in his movements. “Maybe I’ve messed this up. I didn’t mean to make things worse. I should probably just—”

Before he could finish, you stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “Don’t,” you said softly. “I’ve waited a long time for you to say something like this. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

A smile of pure relief and happiness spread across Tyler’s face. He pulled you into a tender embrace, his lips finding yours in a kiss that spoke of all the words unspoken, all the emotions unexpressed. It was a kiss full of apologies, regrets, and hope for the future.

When you finally pulled back, you looked up at him, a sense of calm settling over you. “I love you,” you whispered.

Tyler’s eyes softened as he nodded, holding you close. “I love you,” he said, his voice barely more than a breath. He then leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in another kiss.

As your lips finally part, the soft hum of shared breath fills the space between you. Tyler’s forehead rests gently against yours, both of you lingering in that quiet, electric moment. You’re still standing close to the door, the rush of the kiss slowly giving way to a deeper warmth—something steady and grounding. His thumb brushes along your cheek, his gaze locked on yours as though he’s memorizing every detail of this moment.

You both stand there for a beat longer, neither in a hurry to move or speak. But then, Tyler’s eyes drift past you, landing on the bouquet of blue flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter. His lips curl into a smile, a playful glint flickering in his eyes.

“I see the flowers made the cut,” he teases, his voice soft but with that familiar hint of humor. He steps back just enough to point toward them. “Did I do okay?”

You glance over your shoulder at the flowers and then back at him with a smile. “You did more than okay,” you say warmly. “But I think I still owe you a proper thank you.”

His brows arch in interest. “A proper thank you, huh?”

Before he can respond, you reach up, pulling him back down into another kiss, this one slower, more certain, like you’re sealing the promise of something new between you.

#Tyler Owens #Tyler Owens Fic #Tyler Owens Fanfic #Tyler Owens Fanfiction #Tyler Owens Angst

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megalony · 3 months ago

Text

Exploding Emotions

As promised, this is the new Evan Buckley imagine I have been working on, I am very happy with this one and I hope you will all like it.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: While out on a call, an accident gives (Y/n) flashbacks to the night her husband got trapped beneath the fire truck and what happened to her while he was stuck.

Enjoy.

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"Okay, what have we got?"

The team clambered out the truck one by one, each sorting their gloves and reaching for their helmets while they followed after Bobby. The Captain led them away from the truck and towards the scene they were here to assist.

(Y/n) could feel her legs starting to ache and she was beginning to lag behind. This was their fifth call and they weren't even halfway through their shift yet, and they had come here straight after their last call. They hadn't been back to the station for a drink or a snack or had a moment's peace.

Added to the fact that this was an evening shift, (Y/n) felt like dropping down here and now in the middle of the road.

She shrugged on her florescent jacket and stood near Ravi, looking out at the scene.

Each of them could feel their shoulders sagging and a grimace flooded their faces in turn when they looked around.

A lorry had crashed at an intersection. The large metal lorry was now on its side right in the centre, with a mangled up car resting in front of the bonnet. There were at least four other cars scattered around who had either crashed together, hit posts or swerved and burst a tyre trying to get out of the firing line.

"Hen, Chim, head for the lorry and the collision car in the centre, those drivers will be the worst off. Everyone else, fan out around. If anyone can walk, guide them to safety and get them off the scene."

Bobby's orders fell upon deaf ears when (Y/n) looked at the scene ahead of her.

The hairs on the back of her neck started to prickle and stand on end as a cold shiver passed through her blood. She could feel her lungs tightening and closing up and her eyes zoned in on the lorry.

It was the same crimson shade as the fire truck. Those bright headlights were shining in her direction, they were calling out to her.

It looked just like the scene over a year ago that (Y/n) had to endure watching over the news.

The scene that tore out her heart and made her feel like she was witnessing the end of the world with no way of helping. Being a firefighter meant it was in (Y/n)'s nature to help people. She wasn't used to sitting back and watching from the sidelines, unable to do anything at all. And when it had involved the one person who meant the entire world to her, everything else had become insignificant.

Dread clawed at (Y/n)'s lungs as she felt herself beginning to shake. It felt like a decade had passed since that night, but standing here, staring ahead at that crumpled lorry in the middle of the road, in the dead of night, (Y/n) suddenly felt as if the last year had evaporated into dust.

She felt like she had been transported back one year with her wish of being able to be on scene and do something to help. To look after Evan and get him out.

Was he there? Was Evan laid out on the concrete with one leg practically split apart and a hundred tons of metal crushing down on him? Was he pinned to the floor, unable to move in any direction? Was he screaming until his lips were blue and his lungs were on the verge of giving out? Was Evan in mass agony, violently screaming for someone to do something to help him when no one stepped forward to save him?

"(Y/n)? Everything okay?"

A quiet round of "He's not here," murmured beneath her breath, so quiet that her dad didn't catch a word.

But he could see by the faint, distant look in her constricted eyes and the trembling that set in her body that she wasn't here. She wasn't on scene with them, not mentally. Her mind had gone somewhere else and although he didn't know where, he could see she needed a few moments to come back to the present.

His eyes widened when he watched her suddenly stumble before she crashed down to her knees. Her arms were pinned around her waist with her head lolled to one side, but Bobby could see her eyes were intently focused on the scene ahead of them.

They couldn't see any of the number plates from this far away and there weren't any casualties yet or anyone they knew here on scene. So (Y/n) couldn't be panicking about having family or friends meddled up in this collision.

He hurriedly crouched down in front of her, moving his hands to hold her arms while he leaned his head to try and get within her line of sight. But even when he was in her view, it was like she was looking through him rather than at him. She wasn't here, she was lost.

"Honey, talk to me. Are you okay?"

Relief overtook Bobby when (Y/n) managed to nod her head. She could hear him. She hadn't collapsed in pain or mass agony, she wasn't having some kind of stroke or seizure or some sort of episode. Something was clearly going on, but it didn't seem to be a dire emergency.

Bobby couldn't be doing with any more emergencies. Not after this last year with Evan and all his operations on his leg and him and (Y/n) struggling to cope with those and a newborn baby. (Y/n) had only just come back to work from maternity leave while Evan's return to work date was still to be determined.

His daughter and son-in-law had been through enough.

"I just… I need- need a minute." Her voice sounded distant even to herself and she kept leaning her head to the right until she could look around her dad and stare back at the lorry that was looking more and more like a fire truck to her hazy eyes.

"You sit this one out, get back in the truck. I'll be back in five minutes, if you need help, radio through."

Bobby looked like he was going to try and help her up into the truck behind her, but she shook her head. She wanted to stay where she was, knelt down on the floor. She was okay, but she didn't have the willpower or the energy to get up yet. She couldn't move. She had to stay here.

He seemed dubious about leaving her, but (Y/n) clearly didn't want help right now and they were two men down with Eddie being on holiday and Evan currently off work. And if (Y/n) was sitting this call out, Bobby needed to get back out there and control the situation and help so they could be back at the station as soon as possible.

(Y/n) barely heard her dad whisper that he would be back soon and she tried to lean closer when he kissed her temple. His touch lingered for a few moments, giving away how badly he wanted to stay with her and truly make sure she was alright. But the faint smile she tried to muster told him she might just be okay for a few minutes while he got this scene under control.

All she could do was lean her shoulders back against the truck and close her eyes, but the image was still there. Those beaming headlights were aimed at her. They were shining on her, blinking at her, flashing for her attention and the light shone through her closed eyes that were illuminated into bright red lines. With the image of Evan burned into her cornias until the day she died.

The image of Evan laid out on his stomach, gloved fingers desperately clawing at the floor. Nails splitting apart beneath the gloves, fingertips wearing down and the skin rubbing off as he tried to prize himself free.

His lips, sodden with sweat and dirt and the odd speckle of blood, screaming until he was froffing at the mouth and his throat felt drier than the desert.

His eyes, shedding so manny tears he could have had his own ocean named after him. Red circles beneath his eyes, veins prominent in the whites of his eyes, cheeks glistening with little white tracks where tears had wiped through the dirt covering his face.

(Y/n) could hear those screams. She could see the blood creating a puddle beneath him. She could see people moving to lift the truck and she could hear the agony in her husband's shrieks when their team finally dragged him from the wreckage and prized him free too late for (Y/n)'s liking.

Tears began to streak down her own face before she could stop them and she found her trembling hands rattling through her inside jacket pocket, searching for her phone.

She had to make sure he was okay.

She had to call Evan.

She had to know he wasn't in danger.

To stop herself from staring at the scene ahead that was only inflating her panic and agony, (Y/n) snapped her eyes closed. She closed them so tightly pins and needles flooded her face and had her squirming from the tight pain ebbing away at her eyes. It didn't stop the tears from falling, but they were only silent tears of fading panic and old anguish she was trying to push away.

The line didn't ring for long and (Y/n) was suddenly overwhelmed. Usually when it didn't ring for more than three beeps it meant Evan's phone was switched off or he rejected the call because he was busy on a call. And if the line had rung and rung with no answer, (Y/n) wasn't sure what her panicked brain would do in that scenario.

"Hey baby, everything okay?"

Evan's voice was the calm after the storm. (Y/n) could feel more silent tears beginning to stream down her face when she listened to his lulling voice with that slight rough edge that implied he may have taken a nap with Lilah at some point tonight.

He wasn't quite used to being at home while (Y/n) was at work. It had been the other way around when (Y/n) took early maternity leave and Evan had been the one to call her while he was at work. Just so he could hear her voice or listen to how her day had been to take his mind off a rough or an oddly quiet shift.

He didn't like being the one stuck at home, not able to do his job. But now he didn't have a pot running from his toes midway up his thigh, it was easier to be at home. No one had to be here helping him hobble about the house, he didn't need (Y/n) to help him wash or help him up out of bed and down the stairs.

He didn't need Maddie coming round to babysit him and now he could walk- although with a limp for now- he could properly care for Lilah.

It crushed Evan to not be able to carry his baby girl or bathe her or take her for a walk when he had been on crutches. Seeing (Y/n) or Maddie or even Bobby come round and help with Lilah had been killing him. But now, until he was signed off for work, Evan was spending as much time as he could with his baby girl.

"Babe, you there?" There was a slight chuckle at the end of his words as if he thought (Y/n) may have called him by accident or not realised she was now on the phone to him.

"Hm."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah… just- just wanted to hear your voice." Her voice sounded steadier than she had hoped and it made her relieved. She didn't want to worry Evan unnecessarily and make him panic or think something was wrong.

Because nothing was wrong, not really. A moment of panic had now been quenched by the sound of Evan's voice. (Y/n) could carry on, she could pick herself back up and get out there and try to actually do her job and hope none of the team had noticed her lapse in concentration.

"Why, what's going on?" There was a softness to his tone and (Y/n) could just imagine him sat there smiling.

She wasn't going to worry him. There was no point when telling Evan why she had worriedly called him would only serve to upset him. And there was no way to open up that conversation and tell him she had a brief panic at the thought of his accident.

"Nothing, just missed you."

"You're sweet." He tilted his head back, sliding further down the sofa he was reclined on with both legs hanging over the other side. And he shuffled Lilah who was laid on his chest with her head just beneath his collar bone. "Who's on the phone? Is it mummy?"

He got a little babbling response, a jumbled sound that was drowsy and showed that the toddler was about to fall asleep at any moment. But it was enough to have Evan smiling as he kissed her temple and ran his hand up and down her back, holding his phone closer to his ear with the other hand.

"So, you're missing me, huh?"

(Y/n) allowed a smile to pull at her lips. She felt better already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(One year ago)

Lifting her head, (Y/n) looked up at Athena through blurry eyes when they both heard a knock at the door.

She reached her hand out to give her mum's hand a tight squeeze and the calming smile on Athena's face did wonders for (Y/n)'s raging nerves. They both had the same thought in mind. They both prayed it was Evan at the front door.

Athena leaned over to peck (Y/n)'s temple before she got up from the sofa and hurried out into the hall to open the door.

Just as Athena dipped out the room, (Y/n) leaned forward with one hand gripping the arm of the sofa and her other hand clutching at her stomach. she hunched over as much as she could until her stomach was pressing into her thighs and her head was tilted down.

God, these contractions were going to be the death of her.

A quiet groan burned at the back of her throat and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes but she willed them away. She couldn't be crying yet, not when she wasn't even fully dilated or at the point of pushing yet. But she couldn't help it.

She wanted Evan. She wanted him to come home.

She was two weeks away from her due date and had gone into labour right when Evan was in the middle of a night shift with the rest of the team. (Y/n) had been extremely lucky that when she rang her mum, Athena hadn't been on shift tonight. She had come straight over and when neither of them could get hold of Evan or Bobby, Athena called the next best person.

She rang Maddie who was on shift at dispatch and they kindly asked her to get the message across to the 118 that Evan would have to end his shift early. He needed to come home and be here when (Y/n) had their baby.

When the contraction subsided, (Y/n) let out a groan and started to rub circles along her stomach in the vain hope that it would take her mind off the budding pains. And the ache in her heart from not having Evan here. He promised to be here. He had been subtly whispering to her bump, telling the baby to make an appearance when Evan was home and that they had to wait patiently for him.

(Y/n) had playfully told Evan off two weeks ago when he had been talking to the baby and asked them to arrive promptly last week so Evan wouldn't have to go to dinner with his parents for his dad's birthday. It didn't happen. They all suffered through dinner together anyway. If (Y/n) went into labour then, at least Evan would have been by her side rather than on shift like he was now.

"Is- is that him?" (Y/n) tried to look over her shoulder but she couldn't see Athena in the hall from where she was sat in the living room.

But she couldn't hear voices either. Athena was speaking in hushed tones with whoever was at the door. That must mean it wasn't Evan, if it was he would have burst through the doors and found (Y/n) immediately.

With pursed lips set into a deep frown, (Y/n) reached across for the tv remote and promptly changed the channel. The stupid sitcom that had been on in the background was steadily getting on (Y/n)'s nerves. The gag lines were silly, the jokes weren't funny and the audience laughing was irritating her to no end.

She flicked through three channels, about to look through a few more until a headline on the late night news caught her attention.

LAFD Bombing.

Her head tilted to one side and her eyes narrowed as she watched the camera zoom in, clearly live recording from a helicopter hovering at the scene.

Someone had tried to blow up a fire truck. They were sectioning off the street while the fire brigade talked to the bomber who was actually on the scene. a few people had been hurt in the blast. Someone was trapped. One of the firemen was still stuck in the fire truck that had exploded on-route.

"We can't tell her-"

Maddie lost her train of thought and whatever she was about to say when a horrifying, gut-wrenching scream shook the walls of the house. She clutched the doorframe, her eyes locking with Athena as the pair of them bolted from the hall and into the living room.

It was too late.

More tears streamed down Maddie's face, despite the fact that she had been crying for over twenty minutes now since the news reel first started and showed her little brother in peril.

She had come straight over to help Athena take (Y/n) to hospital and be here with her while Evan couldn't. She had tried to explain what had happened, she didn't want (Y/n) to know. She didn't want her sister in law to panic or be in distress, not when she was already overwhelmed and in labour. But it seemed too late now.

Both of them scurried into the living room to find (Y/n) down on her knees in front of the coffee table. One hand gripping the table while the other clutched the tv remote close to her chest. She turned the volume up until all of them were wincing at the abrupt noises of the helicopter and the news reporters.

She had seen. (Y/n) had seen her husband, lying there on the floor with the entire fire truck crushing down on his leg.

No wonder he wasn't here already. He wasn't going to be here. Evan wasn't coming home, he was stuck. He was pinned down to the road like a fly trapped in a spider's web. Her husband was being crushed while she was splitting apart, about to have their first baby without him. There was no way Evan was going to be here to hold her hand or be by her side.

Did he even know she had gone into labour? Had he been told before this accident happened or was he still oblivious? What did it matter? Labour seemed insignificant compared to the horror Evan was going through.

Why were they broadcasting his anguish to the world?

"(Y/n)-"

"Oh honey."

A gurgling sob left (Y/n)'s lips as she pushed forward until her forehead was pressing down on the edge of the coffee table harsh enough that it was going to leave a mark soon.

When she felt Athena and Maddie reaching out for her, she roughly shook them off, but it wasn't like she could move very far. Not when her aching knees were now glued to the carpet and her stomach was tightening with every passing second.

"He- he's hurt!" The urgency in (Y/n)'s voice took Athena by surprise and only made fresh tears pour down Maddie's face.

This is what she had been afraid of. She had been worried about (Y/n) finding out and sending herself into a state of distress which wouldn't do her or the baby any good. She had hoped to keep (Y/n) ignorant and try to tell her that Evan had been caught up in a situation at work. Maybe tell her there was a bomber out there and the team were trying to diffuse the situation. She thought it would be easier to tell (Y/n) once she'd had the baby or once Evan was taken to hospital, whatever happened first.

"They're going to look after him, he'll be okay." Maddie looped her arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders and gently reeled her sister in law into her chest. She pecked the top of (Y/n)'s head and tried to rub her hand up and down her back, but she could see she wasn't helping very much.

Sobs continued to wrack (Y/n)'s body that was now trembling and when she reeled up, she looked back at the tv which was now zooming in on her husband's peril.

Showing Evan in all his anguish and agony, bright red in the face, spit dribbling down his chin as he screamed. Hands clawing at the road to try and drag himself free to no avail.

"Why isn't someone helping him?!" The words tore past (Y/n)'s lips with a violent scream before she launched the remote in her hand far across the room. Watching with anger and disgust as the remote hit the wall, rebounded into a picture frame and knocked it to the floor.

The shattering glass somehow made (Y/n) feel a little better. Something else other than her and Evan was shattering.

Why wasn't there someone knelt down beside her husband, telling him everything was going to be okay? Why wasn't someone holding his hand? Why was no one trying to move the truck and free her husband? How could they just stand back and leave him there like that, allowing the camera to get a closer view than the rest of them? That wasn't fair. They couldn't leave him in agony like that.

"We have t-to help him. I need to be there- be there with him." Each word came out with a hitched breath until (Y/n) was barely breathing and reduced to panting and gasping instead.

She moved her hands to the coffee table and tried her best to push up from where she was knelt on the floor. But both her legs were shaking and the moment she was on her feet, a cry errupted from her lips and her hands cupped her stomach that was twisting in agony.

She felt Athena rush to grab her arm and steady her and she allowed herself to lean into her mum's touch, letting Athena hold up some of her weight.

"Honey, we need to go to the hospital, these contractions are getting closer." Athena shakily brushed her free hand along (Y/n)'s cheek and leaned over to kiss her temple. (Y/n) was like another daughter to her. Since the moment she married Bobby, she had taken (Y/n) in as her own like Bobby had grown close to May and Harry.

She hated to see (Y/n) in distress like this much the same as she couldn't look at the tv and see Evan be trapped beneath that truck.

"No. No, I w-" She broke off with another cry as Maddie reached out for her waist to stop her from going back down on her knees. "Evan! He needs us."

Maddie couldn't stop her lower lip from wobbling and she sucked in a deep breath, doing her best to stop from bursting into another fit of tears. How could any of this be happening? How could her little brother be stuck in peril like that? How could (Y/n) be in labour at the exact same moment? How could they be separated in a moment where they should both be together? When they had both been planning to do this as one since the moment they found out about this baby.

"Buck has the team with him to look after him, and he wouldn't stand for you having his baby in the middle of the street, now would he?" The firm tone to Athena's voice made (Y/n) shiver and feel like she was a child being told the rules of the game.

Her head fell onto Athena's shoulder and a low whine passed her lips as she began to cry.

"Your dad is there with him, I'll call him when we're at the hospital to find out what's happening. And as soon as Buck is at the hospital with us, we can sort everything out. But we need to get you to the hospital to look after you and this baby."

"Buck will be taken to the hospital soon, better to be there waiting for him than stuck in traffic trying to reach him, hm?" Maddie's words made sense and seemed to calm down one of (Y/n)'s many erratic nerves.

The roads would be gridlocked. They had to get going now and it was lucky that Athena had sirens in her car so she could override the traffic that would undoubtedly be on the streets.

Rather than trying to get to Evan, by which time he could be transported to the hospital, they may as well get there first and wait for him. (Y/n) could be seen by the midwife, her and the baby would be safe and as soon as Evan was there, they would find out what was happening and get news of if he was alright or not.

They would wait for him at the hospital. And (Y/n) would try and hold on as long as she could. She didn't want this baby on her own, she wanted to know Evan was okay.

She wanted to see him before she gave birth.

***

"Why don't we sit down-"

"No."

Both (Y/n)'s hands planted down on the bed in front of her. Her lower back arched out and she leaned forward until her legs were ready to cave in beneath her and give way. Her knees were trembling. Her arms were rattling against the bedframe. She wanted to be sick.

She had shed so many tears she could have a river named after her. Both eyes were puffy and begging for rest, for a moment to sleep or fall closed and recover and to stop crying, but (Y/n) didn't know how. She didn't know how to stop crying when she could see her husband in dire distress, but she couldn't do anything to help him.

She didn't want to sit down, (Y/n) didn't want to be here in the first place. She changed her mind as soon as they arrived at the hospital. She wanted to turn round and go find Evan, she wanted to be there with him, to talk to him and tell him that she was here. She was nearby and she wanted him to know she wanted to help but she just didn't know how.

Another cry tumbled past her lips as her hands fisted in the bedsheets. She wasn't sure whether it was Maddie or Athena who was reaching out for her, but she didn't care. Their gentle touches and vain attempts to get her to move from her crouched position weren't working.

When the pain finally wore off, (Y/n) lifted her head and looked up at the tv in the corner of the room.

The news reel was playing. (Y/n) had been glued to watching any screen she could, looking at any monitor that was recording the live event and giving her a view of her husband in turmoil.

People had finally started to move to try and help him. Evan was no longer sprawled out on the floor on his own, in mass agony, with no way of getting himself free. The rest of the team had managed to pull themselves together and were trying to move the truck. As if any of them could lift that ten ton of steel and and equipment and oversized engine.

"How are we doing in here?" The same midwife who had showed them in peeked her head round the door. She had been doing regular checks and kept trying to insist (Y/n) try to sit and calm down because this was doing her blood pressure and the baby's heartbeat no favours. But (Y/n) wasn't in any fit state to listen.

(Y/n) didn't bother answering, she kept her gaze intently focused on the tv. She couldn't believe Evan hadn't passed out by now and she couldn't believe no one had gotten him free yet.

If they'd of gotten him out by now he could have been in the hospital. (Y/n) could have been with him, she could of held his hand and promised him everything was going to be okay.

She wished there was a way to pause her body and stop labour until Evan was in a fit state to be here, but that wasn't possible.

When another pain hit, (Y/n) couldn't stop her knees from giving out on her and she crumpled down into a squatting position. She thrust more weight onto her arms, quivering through the pain as Maddie tried to stop her from kneeling on the floor and Athena's hands held onto her waist to try and coil her up.

"If you're pushing, we really need to get you on the bed." There was a sense of urgency in the midwife's voice and she got as close as she could considering Maddie and Athena were crowding her like bodyguards.

(Y/n) didn't have the willpower to argue with them anymore.

Her hands clawed at the bed once the pain wore off and left her cramping and aching and splitting apart in dull infrequent waves. It didn't feel good to be sitting down like it did to be crouching or pacing around the room. Pacing kept her mind busy and gave her something to do.

And (Y/n) was fearful that as soon as she sat down, she would progress further and have the baby without Evan, although that seemed inevitable now.

"I think you're ready, let's get settled to push, shall we?" The sympathy in the midwife's voice did nothing to settle the anguish in (Y/n)'s heart.

Her head began to shake and her lower lip wobbled as a horrid sob wracked her chest. This wasn't how things were supposed to play out. She was supposed to be safe at home with Evan when she went into labour. He was supposed to time the contractions and take her to hospital and hold her hand and help her through this.

He was supposed to be here making jokes and kissing her hand and telling her all the random facts about labour and kids that he had learned to go along with all the pregnancy facts he had been telling her the last few months.

Evan wasn't supposed to be stuck with their entire damn fire truck crumpling down on his leg and people desperately trying to set him free.

"I c- I can't have this baby yet-" Her head began to shake and she tugged on Athena's hand as if her mum could somehow do something to rectify this situation.

"Honey, you don't have much of a choice."

Maddie sat down on the left side of the bed and let (Y/n) deadlock their hands together. She reached out with her free hand and gently ran her fingers through (Y/n)'s damp, matted hair, brushing the strands away from her face as she herself was in tears once again.

She hadn't expected to be here when (Y/n) gave birth, she had expected to have the most overjoyed, hyper phone call from her little brother telling her when (Y/n) went into labour. And then another call to ask her to come down to the hospital once her niece or nephew was born.

But when she came along to bring (Y/n) down here, (Y/n) hadn't let go of her hand and Maddie took that as a silent hint that (Y/n) didn't want her to go. And she didn't want to go either. Maddie didn't want to go home and wait anxiously in vain for news of both (Y/n) and Evan.

She had to be here, whether that was in the room right now giving (Y/n) support or just sitting in the hallway waiting for news on either her or Evan. Being in here made Maddie feel useful and it was a distraction.

"You can push on the next contraction."

(Y/n) didn't reply, but she did as she was told and started to push. Her knees coiled up, she pulled both Athena and Maddie's hands towards her chest and she leaned forward as much as she could to see if it would help.

But she stopped, every part of her body going rigid and becoming tense as her head snapped up to the tv.

A small 'oh' left her lips before a round of "Evan!" croaked into the air causing the other girls to look up at the tv.

Dozens upon dozens of passers by in the street were pushing the fire truck. Everyone was leaning against it, forcing all of their weight onto the structure to try and get Evan free.

(Y/n) ignored the next contraction, droning out the midwife's nervous instructions and she tried not to push as she put all of her focus on the tv. Silent sobs wracked her lips and had her trembling back and forth as she watched Hen and Eddie reach out for Evan to try and pull him free, while every other civilian there pushed on the truck.

What hurt (Y/n) the most was seeing Evan scrape his hand against the road. He was trying to help. He had hundreds of pounds of metal crushing down on his leg, pinning him to the road, he was in more agony than he ever had been in his life. And there he was, trying to help get himself free, trying to drag himself along the road to make it easier on everyone else.

The news reporter was close enough that Evan's horrid scream of terror managed to get broadcast on the tv and (Y/n)'s only response was to cry his name through wet lips as another contraction hit and she started to push.

"He- he's free."

"They've got him, they've got him honey."

"He'll be okay now." Maddie leaned forward when (Y/n) dropped her head onto her sister's shoulder and Maddie kissed the top of her head, weaving her other arm around (Y/n)'s waist.

(Y/n) coiled her legs up tighter until her knees were pressing into her stomach and she pushed. Unable to stop herself from muttering Evan's name on a loop as if it was the only thing she could understand. She was almost there, she was about to have her baby in her arms, and the one person she wanted here with her was nowhere to be seen.

The news reel changed to a wider angle of the whole scene and the reporter switched back to someone in the studio. Evan was free, they weren't going to record the team getting him into an ambulance and racing him away from the scene. But he was free. He was free from the constraints of the fire truck and now he would be here within ten minutes, all being well.

But he was still going to miss the birth.

***

"We're here! Buck, we're here." Reaching down, Bobby gripped Evan's arm and did his best to try and smile, but he couldn't manage it. Not when he could see the damage done to his son in law's leg.

He could see the dramatic sight where skin and muscle had been split apart and the bone was visible. He could see breaks in the bone and splinters of bone pushing out at odd angles. He could see through the gauze that was moulding into Evan's wound from soaking up all the blood that the strap around his thigh couldn't cut off.

It didn't look good.

Both Eddie and Hen had been doing their best to make him comfortable on the ride down here, but it was hard. They couldn't give him any morphine, not when he was going to need X-rays and scans and an emergency operation. Morphine and anaesthetic didn't always mix well and Evan had a bad track history with medications causing severe reactions.

All they could give him was the gas and air tube to breathe through and although it had done nothing to take the edge off, Evan had been breathing it in since the moment they got him in the ambulance.

"Let's get you inside, you're gonna be just fine." Hen's voice was soothing, but Evan couldn't believe her words.

He didn't feel fine.

He didn't feel as if he was going to be fine or make a swift recovery from this.

He felt like he was going to be put under anaesthetic and wake up with one leg. He could feel each piece of tattered skin desperately trying to cling to his leg. He could feel his leg pulsing and aching from where the blood supply had been cut off mid-way down his thigh. Evan felt like his body was on fire, his leg was disconnected and each breath was becoming harder to take.

When Eddie reached across to try and take the gas and air tube from his grip, a deep growl emmited from Evan's lips and he clenched his hand tight around the tube.

He pulled the strange looking mask back to his lips and inhaled three fast, choked breaths. The tubes were always switched and cleaned out after every use, but Evan had a feeling they would have to bin this one. He had chomped down so hard on the tube that he had left puncture indents in the plastic.

"No! It f-fucking kills-"

"Buck, you can have more pain relief once you're inside, I swear. Mate please, please we have to move you now." Eddie felt horrible when he had to prize Evan's fingers from the gas and air and as soon as he let go, they clipped off the breaks and moved the stretcher.

Bobby leaned down and took Evan's hand once they all climbed down and Chimney rushed from the driver's seat. He held Evan's hand high to his chest as Evan started to thrash around on the gurney.

His chest stuttered up and down and repeatedly pushed back to the point the gurney was shaking and about to unlock and lower down. His free hand curled into a fist and slammed into the metal frame harsh enough to split some of the skin around his knuckles.

He was in agony. He needed it to stop.

"(Y/n). Have- have you- fuck. (Y/n)." Evan couldn't get his thoughts in order, the only thing in his head and the one word that could properly be muttered from his lips was his wife's name.

They had been on their way back to the station when the bomb hit. They had been going back specifically because Maddie came through the radio and said (Y/n) had gone into labour. That was the call Evan had been waiting for and dreading at the same time. He had been anxious about when (Y/n) would go into labour and if it would happen while he was at work.

He had been ecstatic. He had been bouncing in his seat, riding shotgun in the truck for the first time in ages and he and Bobby had been debating whether it would be a boy or a girl.

Now, Evan had no idea what was happening. He didn't know who was with (Y/n) or if she was alone right now. He didn't know if she was still home or if someone had taken her to the maternity ward. He didn't know if she was in agony, if anything had gone wrong, if she was having complications or sailing through labour without him.

Bobby tightened his hand around Evan's and leaned down so he could talk to him better because he knew Evan was now having a hard time concentrating and taking things in. Who wouldn't in his state?

"Athena and Maddie brought her to the hospital, once you're inside I'll go find them. She'll be okay."

While waiting for people to help get Evan free, Bobby had answered the third phone call from his wife. All he knew so far was they had brought (Y/n) in and labour was in full swing, they were just waiting for her to dilate. But his daughter was here and she was safe, that was all Bobby needed to know for now while he focused on looking after his son in law.

"I wa- I want-" Evan broke off into an animalistic howl when the gurney jolted over the threshold into the emergency room and the shock sent his leg jerking. Shockwaves rattled up and down his spine and both legs shook as if he had been electrocuted.

He lifted his head and shoulders, doing his best to sit up although he wasn't sure what he was doing, he just wanted to move.

He wanted the pain to stop.

Tears flushed down his face and a broken sob left his lips when he locked onto a familiar frame stood anxiously by the reception desk.

He could see his big sister stood with a bright red face, puffy eyes and tears streaked down her features. She had both hands interlocked in front of her in that panicked manner where she would scratch her nails along the back of her hands until they were rubbed raw. The moment she looked their way, it was as if a light had come and gone in her eyes all at once.

She ran across the floor and grabbed Evan's outstretched hand, pulling it up so she could kiss the back of his hand. Her fingers trailed up and down his arm and her lips wobbled, unable to hold back a sob when she looked at her baby brother who had been more of a son to her at times.

"Oh, oh Buck."

Evan let out another sob while the team paused the gurney in the hallway and Eddie moved to flag someone down. This was a dire emergency, they needed a doctor here now and they needed Evan taken to theatre before he lost his leg.

"W-where's (Y/n)?" Evan had spent the last few hours wondering what was happening with his wife, if she was okay, if he could be taken to her at some point.

He had tried arguing with Bobby on the journey down here, asking if he could see (Y/n) before he went for whatever surgery he was going to need. Of course Bobby said no, that wasn't going to be an option. Evan couldn't delay any form of treatment, not for a minute or an hour. He had to be taken straight to theatre.

"She's on the maternity ward."

"Is she-"

"She's fine… oh Buck, you've got a beautiful little girl." Maddie reached her hand out to brush her finger down his bloodied cheek as a broken smile formed on her lips.

But her smile faded into an open-mouthed, hollow frown when Evan's entire face fell. His jaw loosened and slacked like it had become disconnected, his eyes glossed over and his nose crinkled making him look like a snarling dog.

"I m- I missed it? I- oh God- Bobby-" The most horrid scream any of them ever heard erupted from Evan's lips and shook the walls.

He ripped his hand free from Maddie's hold, slammed his fist down into the frame of the gurney and writhed until he almost toppled off the gurney. He fought and thrashed against all the hands that pinned him down and ignored their panicked screams for a doctor.

He missed it.

He missed his daughter's birth. He hadn't been there. He promised (Y/n) he would be with her from the moment she went into labour to the moment their precious baby would be in their arms. He said he would do anything he could to be there and that he wouldn't let her down, and now, he had broken those promises.

He couldn't see (Y/n), he couldn't hold his daughter. He couldn't cut the cord or hold her for the first time the moment she was born. He wasn't going to see her on her birthday, if he was going for an operation he wouldn't be conscious or lucid enough to see her for another day, possibly two.

A chorus of exploding emotions erupted to life in his chest and wailed past his lips but it didn't feel like anyone was listening to him. And Evan was too far gone into his despair to hear anyone try to comfort him. He didn't want comfort. He wanted a time machine. Evan wanted the chance to go back and make sure this didn't happen.

He wanted to rewind time and sit in the back of the truck with the rest of the team so he could scramble out without being trapped. He wanted to get out of that truck unscathed and rush down to the hospital and hold his wife's hand as she gave birth to their daughter.

This wasn't fair.

Tortured screams left Evan's lips and (Y/n)'s name spat past his lips on repeat as the gurney began to move and hands continued to pin him down.

But the pain in his leg was nothing compared to the agony overwhelming his heart.

#imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #pregnant! reader #bobby nash #eddie diaz

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bratzkoo · 2 months ago

Text

barely yours | mingyu pt. 2

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 5.4k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 (PG-13 for this chapter only) Possible Warnings: mingyu is an idiot, AGAIN. written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @whoa-jo , @movingalongfrs

find other parts here! pt. 1 | pt.2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

Y/N felt her carefully constructed facade begin to crumble as she looked into Seungcheol's eyes. The lead vocalist and leader of HHT stood before her, his usually melodic voice now tight with concern and something that sounded like barely contained frustration.

"Y/N," he said, his voice low and urgent. "We need to talk about Mingyu."

She glanced around the hallway, acutely aware of the curious glances from passing employees. This was not a conversation she wanted to have in the middle of her father's company.

"Not here," she hissed, grabbing Seungcheol's arm and pulling him towards an empty conference room. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned against it, as if she could physically block out the complications that were piling up around her.

"What's going on?" Seungcheol demanded as soon as they were alone. "Mingyu showed up at our dorm this morning looking like he'd been hit by a truck. He's refusing to talk to anyone, and we have that radio interview in a few hours."

Y/N closed her eyes, guilt washing over her. She'd been so focused on protecting herself that she hadn't considered how her decision might affect the band. "I... we ended things," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up. "Ended things? I didn't realize there were 'things' to end. I thought you two were just..."

"Fooling around?" Y/N supplied bitterly. "Yeah, well, it turns out feelings don't always follow the rules we set for them."

Understanding dawned on Seungcheol's face, followed quickly by sympathy. "You fell for him."

It wasn't a question, but Y/N nodded anyway. "I did. And when I tried to talk to him about it, he made it clear that he didn't want anything more. So I ended it."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he shared with Mingyu when he was stressed. "Shit, Y/N. This is... complicated."

"You think I don't know that?" Y/N snapped, then immediately regretted her tone. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know what to do. And now my father wants me to take a more active role in managing you guys, and I-"

"Wait, what?" Seungcheol interrupted. "You're going to be our manager?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not exactly. He wants me to be more involved in the management side of things. Apparently, I 'understand your demographic' better than the older executives."

Seungcheol let out a low whistle. "Talk about adding fuel to the fire. How are you going to manage that with... everything else going on?"

"I have no idea," Y/N admitted, slumping into one of the conference room chairs. "I never wanted this, Cheol. Any of it. I was happy being the party girl, the CEO's wild child. It was easier."

Seungcheol took the seat next to her, his expression softening. "Maybe it was easier, but was it really what you wanted? Because the Y/N I know is smart, talented, and more than capable of handling whatever comes her way."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at his words. It had been a long time since someone had seen her as more than just a pretty face or a potential scandal. "I'm scared," she whispered.

Seungcheol reached out, taking her hand in his. "It's okay to be scared. But you're not alone in this, Y/N. The band... we care about you. Both you and Mingyu."

At the mention of Mingyu's name, Y/N felt her heart clench. "How is he, really?"

Seungcheol sighed. "He's hurting. I've never seen him like this before. Whatever was between you two... I don't think it was as casual for him as he let on."

Y/N's head snapped up, hope and confusion warring in her chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Seungcheol said carefully, "that maybe you two need to have an actual conversation. One where you both be honest about your feelings."

"I tried that," Y/N protested. "He laughed it off."

"And you immediately ended things instead of pushing the issue," Seungcheol pointed out gently. "Look, I'm not taking sides here. You're both my friends. But I think there's more to this story than either of you are seeing right now."

Y/N wanted to argue, to defend her decision. But a small part of her wondered if Seungcheol might be right. Had she been too hasty? Too afraid of rejection to really hear what Mingyu was saying – or not saying?

Before she could respond, Seungcheol's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and grimaced. "That's our manager. I need to go wrangle the guys for this interview." He stood, then hesitated. "Y/N, promise me you'll think about what I said. And maybe... maybe come to our studio session tomorrow? We could use your input on some of the new tracks."

Y/N nodded, not trusting herself to speak. As Seungcheol reached the door, she found her voice. "Cheol? Thank you. For everything."

He flashed her a warm smile. "That's what friends are for. Just... don't let fear make your decisions for you, okay?"

As the door closed behind him, Y/N leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling. She'd thought ending things with Mingyu would simplify her life, but it seemed to have done the exact opposite. Now she had a broken heart, a new job she wasn't sure she wanted, and the possibility that she'd misunderstood everything about her relationship with Mingyu.

Her phone buzzed, and she looked down to see a message from her father:

"Meeting with HHT's team tomorrow at 10 AM. Be there."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Tomorrow, she would have to face Mingyu, the band, and her new responsibilities all at once. She wasn't sure if she was ready, but she knew she didn't have a choice.

As she left the conference room and made her way out of the building, Y/N made a decision. She would go to the studio session tomorrow, as Seungcheol had suggested. She would face her fears head-on.

And maybe, just maybe, she would find the courage to have that honest conversation with Mingyu. Because if there was even a chance that he felt the same way...

Well, that was a risk she might just be willing to take.

Y/N stood outside the studio door, her hand hovering over the handle. She could hear muffled voices and the faint strains of music from inside. Taking a deep breath, she smoothed down her blazer and steeled herself. Today, she wasn't Hwang Y/N, the party girl with a broken heart. She was Hwang Y/N, the professional, here to do a job.

With that thought firmly in mind, she pushed open the door.

The chatter inside the studio immediately died down as she entered. Five pairs of eyes turned to her, but she only allowed herself to focus on one – Seungcheol's. He gave her a small, encouraging nod.

"Good morning, everyone," Y/N said, proud of how steady her voice sounded. "I hope you don't mind, but I'll be sitting in on your session today. My father thinks it would be beneficial for me to have a more hands-on role in the creative process."

She deliberately avoided looking at Mingyu, who she could sense was staring at her intently from his position by the guitar rack.

Vernon was the first to break the awkward silence. "Cool, always good to have a fresh pair of ears. We're working on the bridge for the title track. Want to hear what we've got so far?"

Y/N nodded gratefully, taking a seat next to the sound engineer. As the music started playing, she allowed herself to get lost in the melody, analyzing the composition and arrangement. This, at least, was familiar territory. She'd always had a good ear for music, even if she'd never pursued it professionally.

As the song progressed, she found herself nodding along, impressed by the intricate harmonies and the way Seungcheol's powerful vocals blended with the instrumental. But something was off in the bridge – the guitar riff didn't quite mesh with the rest of the arrangement.

When the song ended, Y/N cleared her throat. "That was great, guys. Really solid work. But I think the bridge needs some tweaking. The guitar part feels a bit... disjointed."

She saw Mingyu stiffen out of the corner of her eye, but she kept her gaze fixed on Seungcheol.

"What do you suggest?" Wonwoo asked, leaning forward with interest.

Y/N bit her lip, considering. "Maybe if we simplified the riff a bit? Something that complements Seungcheol's vocals rather than competing with them."

There was a moment of silence, and then Mingyu spoke for the first time. "And what would you know about composing guitar parts?"

His tone was cold, almost challenging. Y/N finally allowed herself to look at him, keeping her expression neutral despite the way her heart raced at the sight of him. He looked tired, with dark circles under his eyes, but still unfairly handsome.

"I may not be a guitarist," Y/N replied evenly, "but I know what sounds good. And right now, that bridge doesn't flow with the rest of the song."

Mingyu opened his mouth to argue, but Seungcheol cut him off. "She's right, Gyu. I was thinking the same thing, but I couldn't put my finger on why it wasn't working. Let's try simplifying it."

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might argue further. But then he shrugged, turning back to his guitar. "Fine. Let's hear your ideas then, Y/N."

The way he said her name, like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, made Y/N wince internally. But she pushed through, working with the band to refine the bridge. To her surprise, once they got past the initial awkwardness, the creative process flowed smoothly. Even Mingyu, despite his obvious reluctance, contributed valuable ideas.

As the hours passed, Y/N found herself relaxing into her role. She offered suggestions on vocal arrangements, helped fine-tune lyrics, and even hummed out a melody idea that Vernon quickly turned into a catchy hook for their b-side track.

It wasn't until their manager called for a lunch break that the comfortable bubble of creativity burst. As the others filed out of the studio, chatting about where to grab food, Y/N hung back, gathering her notes. She was so focused on avoiding being alone with Mingyu that she didn't notice Seungcheol had stayed behind until he spoke.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Y/N looked up, offering him a small smile. "No, it wasn't. You guys are incredibly talented. It's... it's an honor to work with you like this."

Seungcheol's expression softened. "You're good at this, Y/N. Really good. Have you ever thought about pursuing music production?"

She shook her head. "Not really. It was always just a hobby. Besides, my father has other plans for me."

"Maybe it's time to make your own plans," Seungcheol suggested gently. Then, after a pause, "Mingyu was watching you, you know. When you weren't looking."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to shrug nonchalantly. "We have to work together now. It's bound to be awkward for a while."

Seungcheol looked like he wanted to say more, but just then, the studio door opened and Mingyu walked in, stopping short when he saw them.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Forgot my phone."

The tension in the room was palpable as Mingyu retrieved his phone from beside his guitar. Y/N kept her eyes fixed on her notes, hyper-aware of his every movement.

As he turned to leave, Mingyu paused. "The bridge sounds better now," he said stiffly, not quite looking at Y/N. "Good call."

Before she could respond, he was gone, the door closing firmly behind him.

Y/N let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "This is going to be harder than I thought," she admitted quietly.

Seungcheol squeezed her shoulder supportively. "Give it time. And maybe... maybe try talking to him? Outside of work?"

Y/N shook her head firmly. "No. It's better this way. Clean break, professional distance. It's the only way this can work."

As they left the studio to join the others for lunch, Y/N repeated those words in her head like a mantra. Professional distance. It was the right thing to do.

So why did it feel so wrong? -

The atmosphere in the practice room was thick with tension, the usual easy banter replaced by an uncomfortable silence broken only by the sound of instruments being tuned. Seungcheol watched as Mingyu stole yet another glance at Y/N, who was studiously avoiding eye contact as she reviewed some paperwork in the corner. The leader of HHT sighed inwardly, knowing that something had to give.

For weeks now, Seungcheol had noticed the change in dynamics between Mingyu and Y/N. The playful flirtation that had once been a constant source of amusement (and occasional exasperation) for the band had vanished, replaced by awkward silences and stilted interactions. It was more than just personal drama – it was affecting the band's chemistry, and as the leader, Seungcheol knew he had to do something.

"Alright, let's take it from the top," Seungcheol called out, hoping that focusing on the music might alleviate some of the tension.

As they launched into their latest single, Seungcheol couldn't help but notice how Mingyu's usually flawless guitar work seemed off. The tall guitarist kept missing cues, his rhythm slightly out of sync with the rest of the band. Every time this happened, Mingyu's eyes would dart to Y/N, as if seeking her reaction, only to quickly look away when he realized she wasn't even watching.

Y/N, for her part, seemed determined to focus solely on her work. She sat in the corner, ostensibly reviewing marketing reports, but Seungcheol noticed how her pen hadn't moved on the page for the past ten minutes. Every now and then, when she thought no one was looking, her gaze would flicker to Mingyu, a mixture of longing and hurt in her eyes.

After an hour of subpar practice, Seungcheol called for a break. As the other members dispersed, grabbing water bottles and checking their phones, he pulled Vernon and Wonwoo aside.

"We need to talk about the Mingyu-Y/N situation," he said in a low voice, guiding them to a quiet corner of the room.

Vernon nodded, relief evident on his face. "Thank god someone said it. The tension is killing me. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells every time they're in the same room."

Wonwoo frowned, his usually calm demeanor showing signs of strain. "It's affecting our performance too. Did you hear Mingyu during that bridge? I've never heard him miss those notes before."

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair, a habit he'd picked up when stressed. "I know. That's why we need to do something. I have an idea, but I'm going to need your help."

As Seungcheol outlined his plan, Vernon's eyes widened in disbelief while Wonwoo's narrowed in thought.

"Fake dating?" Vernon whispered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Mingyu wasn't within earshot. "Isn't that a bit… I don't know, dramatic?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But subtle hasn't been working. Those two are too stubborn for their own good. Sometimes you need to fight fire with fire."

Wonwoo nodded slowly. "It could work. But are you sure Y/N will agree to it?"

"Leave Y/N to me," Seungcheol said, a determined glint in his eye. "For now, I need you two to help set the stage. Can I count on you?"

Both Vernon and Wonwoo nodded, though Vernon still looked a bit uncertain. As they broke apart, returning to their instruments, none of them noticed Mingyu watching them with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.

Later that week, Y/N was working late in her office, the soft glow of her desk lamp the only light in the room. She rubbed her eyes, tired from staring at spreadsheets all day. As she reached for her coffee mug, a soft knock on the door made her jump.

"Come in," she called, straightening up in her chair.

Seungcheol poked his head in, an unusually serious expression on his face. "Got a minute?"

Y/N nodded, gesturing for him to sit. "What's up, Cheol? Is everything okay with the band?"

Seungcheol settled into the chair across from her, his usually relaxed posture tense. "Yes and no. The band is fine, but… well, that's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

Y/N felt a knot form in her stomach. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. "If this is about Mingyu-"

"It is," Seungcheol cut in gently. "But not in the way you might think. I have a… proposition for you."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. "I'm listening."

Seungcheol took a deep breath. "Look, we've all noticed the tension between you two. It's affecting the band, and frankly, I hate seeing you both so miserable."

"I'm not-" Y/N started to protest, but Seungcheol held up a hand.

"Y/N, come on. We've known each other too long for that. You're not happy, and neither is Mingyu. But you're both too stubborn to do anything about it."

Y/N slumped back in her chair, the fight going out of her. "What am I supposed to do, Cheol? He made it clear he doesn't want anything serious. I can't keep putting myself out there just to get hurt again."

Seungcheol leaned forward, his eyes intense. "What if we gave Mingyu a taste of his own medicine? What if… we pretended to date?"

Y/N's eyes widened in shock. "What? Cheol, that's crazy. Why would we-"

"To make Mingyu jealous," Seungcheol interrupted. "Look, I've known Mingyu for years. He's stubborn and proud, but he cares about you. A lot. I think seeing you with someone else might be the push he needs to confront his feelings."

Y/N bit her lip, considering. The idea was tempting, but… "But what about the band? And my position? Wouldn't it complicate things even more?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Maybe. But it could also solve our Mingyu problem. Plus, it might help deflect some of the pressure from your dad about taking things seriously. Dating the lead singer of HHT? That's a power move in the industry."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at that. "You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"I care about both of you," Seungcheol said sincerely. "And I hate seeing you two dance around each other like this. So, what do you say? Want to be my fake girlfriend?"

After a moment of hesitation, Y/N nodded. "Okay. Let's do it. But we need to set some ground rules…"

Over the next few days, Seungcheol and Y/N put their plan into action. They started small - sitting closer during meetings, sharing inside jokes, leaving together after practice. The other band members, clued in by Seungcheol, played along perfectly.

Vernon, ever the actor, would waggle his eyebrows suggestively whenever he saw them together. Wonwoo, more subtle in his approach, would casually mention how much time Seungcheol and Y/N had been spending together lately.

Mingyu, however, was oblivious to the plan. At first, he barely seemed to notice the change in dynamics. He was too caught up in his own thoughts, alternating between trying to figure out what had gone wrong with Y/N and convincing himself he didn't care.

But as the days passed, little things started to catch his attention. The way Seungcheol's hand would linger on Y/N's back as they walked into a room. The inside jokes they seemed to share, leaving the rest of the group puzzled. The fact that Y/N was suddenly at every practice session, even when she didn't need to be.

During one particularly grueling practice, Mingyu fumbled a guitar riff he'd played perfectly a hundred times before. His eyes were fixed on Y/N, who was laughing at something Seungcheol had whispered in her ear. The sound of her laughter, once a source of joy for Mingyu, now felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

"Dude, you okay?" Vernon asked, concern evident in his voice.

Mingyu shook his head, trying to clear it. "Yeah, just… distracted."

Vernon followed Mingyu's gaze to where Seungcheol and Y/N were huddled together, looking at something on Y/N's phone. "They've been spending a lot of time together lately, huh?" he said, his tone carefully neutral.

Mingyu grunted noncommittally, but his grip on his guitar tightened. "I guess. Not that it's any of my business."

Vernon raised an eyebrow at that but didn't push further. As they resumed practice, he exchanged a meaningful look with Wonwoo. Their plan was working, perhaps a little too well.

As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu's mood grew increasingly sour. He snapped at staff members over minor mistakes, isolated himself during breaks, and threw himself into his music with an almost manic intensity. His songwriting, always emotionally charged, took on a darker, more melancholic tone.

One evening, after a particularly tense practice session, Wonwoo found Mingyu alone in the studio, furiously scribbling in his notebook.

"New song?" Wonwoo asked, settling into a chair nearby.

Mingyu nodded without looking up. "Yeah. It's… it's about letting go of something you never really had."

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up at that. "Sounds heavy. Want to talk about it?"

For a moment, it looked like Mingyu might open up. But then he shook his head, slamming the notebook shut. "It's nothing. Just… exploring some new themes."

As Mingyu stood to leave, Wonwoo called out, "You know, if something's bothering you, you can talk to us. We're not just your bandmates, we're your friends."

Mingyu paused at the door, his back to Wonwoo. "I know," he said softly. "But some things… some things you have to figure out on your own."

With that, he was gone, leaving Wonwoo to wonder if perhaps their plan was causing more harm than good.

The situation finally came to a head at a company party celebrating HHT's latest album going platinum. The event was in full swing, the cream of the K-pop industry mingling in a high-end Seoul nightclub.

Mingyu arrived late, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. He'd spent hours agonizing over whether to attend, knowing Y/N would be there. In the end, his pride (and a strongly worded text from their manager) had won out.

He froze in the doorway as he spotted Y/N and Seungcheol on the dance floor. Y/N was wearing a stunning red dress that hugged her curves, her hair swept up to reveal the graceful line of her neck. Seungcheol, looking handsome in a well-fitted suit, had his hand on her waist as they moved in perfect sync to the music.

Something snapped inside Mingyu. He stormed over to the bar, downing a shot of soju before grabbing another. As he watched Y/N throw her head back in laughter at something Seungcheol said, a series of memories flashed through Mingyu's mind:

Y/N's shy smile the first time they met at a company event. The electricity he felt the first time they kissed, hidden away in a dark corner of a after-party. Late nights spent talking about their dreams and fears, sharing parts of themselves they'd never shown anyone else. The way Y/N's eyes lit up when she listened to his new songs, always the first to offer genuine feedback and encouragement.

And then, more recent memories: The hurt in Y/N's eyes when he'd laughed off her suggestion of something more serious. The growing distance between them, a chasm he hadn't known how to bridge. The ache he felt every time he saw her now, an ache he'd tried to ignore, to rationalize away as mere physical attraction.

But seeing her now, radiant and happy in another man's arms, Mingyu could no longer deny the truth. He was in love with Y/N. Truly, madly, deeply, irrevocably in love. And he might have just lost her to his best friend.

The realization hit him like a physical blow. The glass in Mingyu's hand shattered, startling nearby partygoers. Blood dripped from his palm, but he barely noticed. All he could see was Y/N, beautiful and radiant, looking at Seungcheol with an affection that used to be reserved for him.

As staff rushed to tend to his injured hand, Mingyu's eyes met Y/N's across the room. The concern in her gaze was almost more than he could bear. In that moment, Mingyu knew he had to fight for her, to tell her how he really felt, before it was too late.

But first, he had some serious groveling to do. And maybe, just maybe, a chance to turn his pain into the most heartfelt song he'd ever written.

As he allowed himself to be led away for medical attention, Mingyu's mind was already racing with lyrics, a melody forming that he hoped would convey everything he'd been too afraid to say. He'd messed up, pushed away the best thing in his life out of fear and stubbornness. But if there was even a chance that Y/N still cared for him, he'd move heaven and earth to win her back.

Little did Mingyu know, across the room, Y/N was fighting every instinct to run to him, her heart breaking at the pain evident in his eyes. As Seungcheol squeezed her hand reassuringly, Y/N wondered if their plan had worked a little too well. -

Y/N went home to her apartment. She sat curled up on her couch, a glass of wine in hand, trying to process the events of the evening. The company party had not gone as planned – the image of Mingyu's pain-filled eyes as he clutched his bleeding hand was seared into her memory.

Y/N's phone buzzed for the umpteenth time. Another message from Seungcheol:

"Are you sure you're okay? I can come over if you need to talk."

She sighed, typing out a quick reply:

"I'm fine. Just need some time to think. Talk tomorrow?"

As she hit send, a loud, insistent knocking startled her. Y/N glanced at the clock – 1:37 AM. Who could it be at this hour?

The knocking continued, more urgently now. "Y/N! Y/N, I know you're in there! Please… please open up."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She'd recognize that voice anywhere, even slurred as it was now. Mingyu.

Hesitantly, she made her way to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it to find Mingyu leaning heavily against the doorframe, his usually impeccable appearance in disarray. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, hair a mess, and the unmistakable smell of soju wafted from him.

"Mingyu?" Y/N said, shock evident in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Mingyu's eyes, glassy from alcohol, focused on her face. A lopsided smile spread across his features. "Y/N… beautiful Y/N. I had to see you. Had to tell you…"

He stumbled forward, nearly falling. Y/N instinctively reached out to steady him, the familiar warmth of his body sending a jolt through her.

"Woah, easy there," she said, guiding him inside and closing the door. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You shouldn't be here."

Mingyu allowed himself to be led to the couch, collapsing onto it with a heavy sigh. "I know, I know. 'm not supposed to be here. But I couldn't… couldn't stop thinking about you. About us."

Y/N perched on the edge of the coffee table, facing him. Despite her better judgment, concern overtook her resolve to keep her distance. "Mingyu, what's going on? Are you okay? Your hand–"

Mingyu waved dismissively, wincing slightly at the movement. His palm was wrapped in a white bandage, a few spots of red seeping through. "It's nothing. Doesn't hurt. Not like…" he trailed off, his eyes growing sad.

"Not like what?" Y/N prompted gently.

"Not like seeing you with him," Mingyu finished, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N felt her heart clench. This was exactly the reaction their fake dating scheme was meant to provoke, but seeing Mingyu in actual pain made her question the wisdom of their plan.

"Mingyu, I–"

"No, let me… let me say this," Mingyu interrupted, sitting up straighter and fixing Y/N with an intense gaze. "I messed up, Y/N. I messed up so bad. I thought… I thought I could handle seeing you with someone else. Thought it didn't matter. But it does. It matters so much."

He reached out, taking Y/N's hands in his. She knew she should pull away, but found herself frozen, captivated by the raw emotion in Mingyu's eyes.

"I miss you," Mingyu continued, his thumbs tracing circles on her palms. "I miss your laugh, your smile. The way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating. I miss the way you make me feel – like I'm more than just a idol, more than just a pretty face or a good voice. With you, I'm just… me."

Y/N felt tears pricking at her eyes. This was everything she had wanted to hear for so long, but the circumstances were all wrong. "Mingyu, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

Mingyu shook his head vehemently, then immediately looked like he regretted the motion. "No, no. I'm drunk, yes. But I know… I know what I feel. What I've always felt, even if I was too scared to admit it."

He slid off the couch, landing on his knees in front of Y/N. In any other situation, it might have been comical, but the desperation in his eyes killed any urge to laugh.

"Please, Y/N," Mingyu pleaded, still clutching her hands. "Please give me another chance. Break up with Seungcheol. He's… he's my friend, but he's not right for you. Not like I am. We're… we're meant to be together. I see that now."

Y/N felt panic rising in her chest. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Mingyu wasn't supposed to show up at her door, drunk and emotional, laying his heart bare. She wasn't prepared for this.

"Mingyu, listen to me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "You're not thinking clearly. We can't… I can't…"

But Mingyu wasn't listening. His eyes had taken on a glassy, unfocused look. "I'll do better this time, I promise. I'll… I'll write you songs. Take you on real dates. Show the whole world how much you mean to me. Just please… please don't leave me."

His impassioned speech was interrupted by a wide yawn. The adrenaline and alcohol seemed to be wearing off, leaving exhaustion in their wake.

"I love you, Y/N," Mingyu mumbled, his head drooping. "I love you so much. Please… please just…"

And with that, Mingyu slumped forward, his head coming to rest in Y/N's lap. Within seconds, soft snores filled the air.

Y/N sat frozen, her mind reeling. Mingyu's words echoed in her head, everything she had longed to hear for months. But was it real? Or just the ramblings of a drunk, jealous man?

Gently, she extricated herself from under Mingyu, laying him out on the couch and covering him with a throw blanket. She allowed herself a moment to study his face, peaceful in sleep, before retreating to her bedroom.

As she lay in bed, sleep eluding her, Y/N's thoughts were a jumbled mess. The fake dating plan had worked – perhaps too well. Mingyu had confessed his feelings, but at what cost? And what would happen in the morning, when he woke up in her apartment with a killer hangover and the memory of his whiskey-soaked confessions?

One thing was clear: the game they'd been playing had just gotten a lot more complicated. And Y/N had a sinking feeling that someone's heart was bound to get broken in the process – quite possibly her own.

#svt #mansaenetwork #mingyu fic #kim mingyu #mingyu #mingyu imagine #kim mingyu fic #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu smut #svt x reader #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #rockstar! mingyu #rockstar! mingyu x reader

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just-jordie-things · 10 months ago

Text

national anthem - gojo satoru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 12.2k warnings: mentions of drinking and smoking (cigarettes + weed) summary: you're a special grade? with no life experience? someone like you sure is lucky gojo satoru wants to take you under his wing and show you how to enjoy life. gojo satoru sure is lucky that someone like you teaches him how to love. more info: set in 2006, friends to lovers, gojo sort of wants to corrupt reader but he's too soft on her, he's an overconfident coward in this idk you figure it out

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ i’m your national anthem, god you’re so handsome, take me to the hamptons, bugatti, veyron // he loves to romance ‘em reckless abandon, holding me for ransom, upper echelon // he says to be cool but, i don’t know how yet // wind in my hair, hand on the back of my neck ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Two Special Grade Sorcerers in one place was already a fight for territory and ego- at least to Gojo Satoru. Geto Suguru never really felt a push to prove himself, but his white haired counterpart seemed to enjoy a good ol’ fashion pissing competition, so when Satoru felt like being competitive, he often just went along with it. Besides, there was a certain entertainment in watching him lose. Satoru would tell anyone that he didn’t feel threatened around Suguru- or Yuki, when she was around- but there was an undeniable flicker of excitement in his eye when an opportunity came along to show off.

A show off, that was the perfect description for the first impression (y/n) got when she first met the infamous Six Eyes. She wasn’t sure what to expect arriving at Jujutsu Tech on that sunny afternoon in 2006. The mixture of giddiness and unease from picking everything up and starting life over at the ripe age of eighteen had her insides all fluttery, but she was fairly certain her excitement outweighed all else.

The manager who’d picked her up from the train station and drove her to her new home had given her a short introduction to the other sorcerers her age, but nothing could’ve prepared her for the whirlwind of their first official meeting.

“So you’re the new Special Grade meat!”

She’s startled as soon as she approaches the group of three. She’d been all smiles, ready to hold out her hand and introduce herself properly, but it appeared they’d already known all about her.

“Shut up Satoru, you sound like a douchebag,” The dark haired sorcerer beside the loud one shouldered past, reaching out to be the first to shake her hand. (y/n) still has a bewildered look on her face as she reciprocates, confusedly glancing between the two. “Don’t mind him, he’s always like that. I’m Geto, but everyone calls me Suguru anyways, so you can too”

“Alright,” She says through an airy laugh. “Then I’m (y/n)... the Special Grade meat”

Suguru shares the laugh as he drops his hand, and suddenly the white haired one is darting forward, pushing him aside just as he’d done to him moments ago, and grabbing (y/n’s) hand before she could fully lower it. Her eyes are wide, every instinct telling her to take three steps back, but she lets him shake it at a wild pace.

The cursed energy that comes off of him in waves hits her like a truck, solid, undeniable, strength. Reason tells her that he could end her life with his handshake alone. The goofy, shit eating grin on his face tells her otherwise.

“Gojo Satoru!” He introduces, still shaking her hand. “But you already knew that, right?”

Wordlessly, she shakes her head at him, curiosity striking her the longer she took him in. A show off for sure, with the volume of his voice despite being right in front of her, with the performance in his ongoing handshake, with that stupid smile he hadn’t wiped off his face yet, with all that cursed energy- Gojo Satoru was a sight to behold and he knew it, too.

Back home it would’ve ticked her off, but for some reason, there’s a compulsion to her amusement in him. Slowly, her bewildered expression morphs into one of pleasant surprise.

“Can’t say I had the slightest idea,” She replies, and that seems to do the trick to get his smile to falter, even momentarily. Technically, she knew of him, only because of the manager’s due diligence in giving her the names of her new colleagues, but she wasn’t about to treat him to that information. “But I do now,” Her smile brightens, “You’re the guy with the white hair”

He scoffs at first, not out of disgust or annoyance, but pure surprise at the genuine response. The two behind him, Suguru, and the girl she hadn’t met quite yet, Ieiri Shoko, were nearly doubled over in laughter. Loud cackles that echoed across the courtyard they stood in. (y/n) merely held her polite smile as she waited for Gojo Satoru’s full reaction.

His shit eating grin softened into a more authentic smile, amusement casted over his features as he gazed down at her through his lenses. He didn’t need his Six Eyes to tell him she was strong, her own cursed energy seemed to buzz and crackle right off of her like electricity. As if she’d been gathering up static for so long and it was dying to leap right out of her. It would be overwhelming, if he wasn’t the sorcerer he was.

“Always noticed for my looks first,” He sighs dramatically, and (y/n) raises a brow at him, slightly amused, slightly intrigued. “But I guess we’ll have that in common, huh, Special Grade?”

Before she’s given any real time to react, or even process what he’s said, he’s interrupted.

“Alright, that’s enough of you, you’re making us all look bad now,”

The third sorcerer with the lab coat and an unlit cigarette in her hands is the next to leap forward, grabbing Gojo Satoru by the elbow and forcibly yanking until he gives in and drags his feet back to Suguru. (y/n) watches as he mutters under his breath and makes wild hand gestures to Suguru- who seems to roll his eyes and remain otherwise unresponsive.

“You won’t get used to him, so get used to knowing that now,” The girl says, capturing (y/n’s) attention. “I’m Shoko, I’ll be your best friend here, alright? Don’t let him get too comfortable”

(y/n) giggles, introducing herself yet again with a shy fit of laughter.

“Seems like he gets comfortable pretty quick,” She muses, casting a glance over to where Suguru was trying to drag his friend away. He didn’t seem to be winning that fight, and it wasn’t long before Gojo was going boneless against him. “So, small class size, huh?”

“Yeah, well, not a lot of jujutsu sorcerers out there,” Shoko shrugs. “And… we had a few transfers to Kyoto. Which were totally not due to that idiot” She adds the second part under her breath, but when (y/n) laughs, she does too.

“Well, I’ll try not to transfer, then”

Shoko brightens, just a little bit, but enough to be noticed.

(y/n’s) sure she’ll stay true to her word. Besides, it had seemed like her time at Jujustu Tech would prove to be interesting… maybe even fun.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The smell of tobacco wasn’t pleasant, but she tries to put up with it for the sake of Suguru and Shoko. It appeared that the most exciting part of their night was sharing a smoke by Shoko’s window, as they’d visibly relaxed once they’d sparked up.

It didn't matter that (y/n) didn’t voice her discomfort, because Gojo Satoru could see it written all over her. The way her eyes widened when Shoko had pulled out the pack, the way her nose crinkled when Suguru lit the first cig, and even now, how she can’t stop anxiously glancing over to the two of them as they smoked.

“You’re not a smoker, huh?”

She’d been sitting against the wall, a mostly forgotten magazine in her lap when Gojo had approached her, crouching down to her level to properly gain her attention.

“Huh?” She’s lost at first, but it only takes a short nod of his head towards the window for her mind to catch up. “Oh, um, I guess I’ve never really smoked before, but, no, I’m not a smoker”

It’s unexplainable, the way she stammers over her explanation like it’s a lie. Because it’s the complete truth. She’d never smoked a cigarette in her life, and she’d never been around anyone who did. The smell was only familiar because of how often it wafted amongst the streets, but it was always unpleasant. Trying it for herself had never really crossed her mind.

“You’ve never tried it?” Gojo tilts his head curiously, and for a moment she thinks he resembles a cat, but before she could tell him the connection, he’s standing up again and striding over to the window.

She can only watch as he swipes the pack of cigarettes from between the two, scowling when he pops open the box.

“Did you buy this yesterday?” He scoffs, plucking out one of the sticks before tossing it back at Suguru, who catches it with ease, but frowns back at the white haired sorcerer. “Jeez, addicts much?”

“Relax, Satoru” Suguru rolls his eyes just as Gojo snatches the lighter off the windowsill as well. It earns him another glare, but neither Suguru or Shoko comment on it, instead returning to whatever conversation they’d been having before Gojo had so rudely interrupted them.

It’s not until he’s returning to her spot on the floor and taking a seat beside her that she realizes why he’s done this.

“Here ya are,” He grins, holding the items out to her in both hands. (y/n’s) eyes wander between the two, the cancer stick in his left hand, the hot pink lighter in his right, before looking up at him and shaking her head. “What, you don’t wanna try it?”

“I just… I mean…” She struggles to give him a proper reason. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, because she couldn’t care less what other people chose to do, but she wasn’t about to lie to him and say she was ecstatic to get a taste of the thing she knows is bad for her. “I don’t think I’d like it…”

“Well, that’s alright,” Gojo chuckles as he shrugs his shoulders. “I hate it. It’s nasty,”

He goes so far as to stick his tongue out towards the window, where Shoko had clearly overheard his less-than-quiet comment. She returns the favor, but Gojo’s already turned back to (y/n).

“It reeks. And it burns a bit. And honestly? I’d rather spend the money on mochi,” He tells her honestly, and it earns him a giggle, so he smiles a little wider. “But you deserve to at least try it, right?” He asks, wiggling the lighter at her. “Just to say you did it?”

“I’m not really wired that way,” She admits, her laughter turning nervous, but nonetheless, she finds herself plucking the lighter from his fingers. “Why try something I know I’ll hate?” She asks, and generally, it’s a rhetorical question, but Gojo’s answer does have her curious.

“Because,” He shrugs again. “Trying new things is the fun part,” He suggests, before adding, “And just because you can”

Her eyes drift down to the pink lighter in her hand. She rolls it over between her fingers a few times, fiddling with it as the idea settles in her mind. She gets lost enough in thought that she doesn’t even realize how fluidly she’s twirling the small object between her fingers like it was a trick of misdirection, but Gojo finds amusement in how easily and quickly she’s able to maneuver it about the back of her knuckles.

“I can’t say I have an argument for that,” She tells him finally, turning to him with a small smile, and her hand outstretched. “But when I hate it, you can’t be mad”

He doesn’t place the cigarette in her palm like she’s expecting, instead raising it towards her lips, flicking it slightly to prompt her to open her mouth.

“Don’t bite down too hard, you’ll ruin it,” He instructs. She blinks at him in surprise, but follows along anyways and parts his lips so he could set it between them. She keeps her hold on it as light as possible. “And the taste of tobacco is awful,” He adds in a quieter voice.

She tries not to think about how close he sits to her, or how his fingers brush over her bottom lip and then her chin as he places the cigarette between her lips, but the harder she tries not to think about it, the more he thinks about it.

“Want me to light it for you?” He asks, and now he’s the one to hold his palm out to her.

Too nervous to speak with the cig in her mouth, she gives him a small nod, and places the lighter back in his hand. He grins when her fingers drag over his before she pulls her hand away.

“Alright, don’t overthink it,” He says, leaning forward a little closer with the lighter in hand. “I’ll light it, and all you gotta do is breathe in. Not too harsh, just a little inhale, got it?”

She shrugs and nods, certain she could understand the complexities of smoking a cigarette, but she had a feeling that Gojo Satoru liked knowing what to do, and showing her what to do, so she let him. It couldn’t hurt, right? If she fed his ego just a little bit?

With a flick of his thumb a small flame erupts, and soon the end of the cigarette is burning. Just as he said, she takes in a short breath, just enough to feel the smoke touch her lungs.

Her eyes meet his when he pulls the lighter away, but he stays sitting closely in front of her. Even through the dark lenses he always kept perched on his nose she could tell that he was eager to watch her reaction.

She rips the stick from her mouth and coughs, and even once all the smoke is expelled, she sticks her tongue out with the desire to rid her mouth of the terrible flavor.

Gojo chuckles quietly, taking the cigarette from between her fingers as he stands up for a moment. He’s sitting again just a second later, passing her a bottle of water that she takes and chugs down greedily. He’s still laughing when he passes the cigarette to the window dwellers.

“So you were right, huh?” He asks her after she’s got half the water down.

She nods back at him, taking a few more gulps to soothe the ache in her chest from her own coughing.

“But at least you tried it?”

Finally pulling the bottle away, she turns to face him again. Her brows are pinched together with annoyance, but there’s a flicker of a smile on her lips that Satoru can’t ignore. It makes his heart beat at a disastrously wild pace. It makes him grin.

“Oh, I’ll be telling everyone you peer pressured me,” She tells him assuredly, to which he scoffs, but before he could argue, she continues. “But… at least I tried it”

The momentary defensive stature he’d taken relaxes just as quickly, and he even laughs a bit.

“Atta girl, Special Grade,” He teases. “That’s the spirit”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling as she picks up her magazine and settles back against the wall in a comfortable position. Gojo doesn’t have much interest in fashion, but he sits beside her and follows along as she flips through it anyways.

She supposes it’s because he has no interest in smoking with the others, that this was the better option. He supposes it’s just because her shampoo smelled so light and fruity that he wouldn’t mind lingering around just a bit longer.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[gojo s.] are you up?? 1:46 a.m.

[y/n] it’s almost 2. 1:47 a.m.

[gojo s.] fast response! so ur wide awake! :D 1:47 a.m.

[gojo s.] put on something warm and come to the window 1:48 a.m.

Gawking at her phone, (y/n’s) sure this is just some kind of stupid joke. There was no way if she peeked out her window now that Gojo Satoru would be standing out there. This late at night? On a Tuesday? They had training tomorrow bright and early- and wasn’t there a curfew?

She’s not sure what comes over her when she actually shuffles out of her warm covers and tiptoes over to the window. Peeking through the curtain just to be sure wouldn’t hurt, right?

Sure enough, when she pulls the curtain aside just enough to look outside, Gojo Satoru is standing out there. He must’ve been expecting her to check, because he’s looking straight at her, grinning from ear to ear before he waves.

(y/n) shuts the curtain and snatches her phone off the bed. Just as she begins to furiously type, she’s getting an incoming call. With a huff, she answers it and brings the phone to her ear.

“Gojo Satoru, what the hell are you doing outside my-”

“I knew you’d be down!” He’s shouting before she could finish her scolding, and (y/n) winces as she tilts the speaker of her phone away from her ear to relieve the ringing he’d caused. “Get dressed and hop on out!”

“Hop on out-? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you wanna go do something fun?”

“Right now?” She lets out a humorless laugh. “Gojo, it’s the middle of the night, I’ve been trying to sleep”

“I can’t sleep either,” He replies, completely missing the point, but it’s only then that she starts to hear him out. “I need a midnight snack,” He adds, this time his voice filled with it’s usual syrupy level of glee. “I’m sure it’d help you, too!”

It’s a ridiculous idea. She had training in about five hours from now, and so far tonight she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Gojo Satoru might’ve been all powerful, but that didn’t mean he had power over her, he couldn’t just make her go because he wanted a snack and company to go along with it. It would be incredibly easy to tell him no and hang up the phone, and it would keep her out of trouble, too. A double win.

Yet, she’s at her dresser and pulling off her pajamas before she’s even given him a verbal response.

“I hear movement, are you getting dressed?” He asked her, full of hope and excitement.

“Yes,” She huffs as she gets into her uniform slacks. They were the only pants she owned that weren’t pajamas- and there was no way she was going out in the middle of the night with Gojo Satoru in hello kitty pajamas.

After throwing her jacket over her tee shirt and buttoning it up enough, she crept back over to her window, pulling open the curtains properly, her phone still in her hand.

“Oh good-!”

Before he could finish whatever he was saying, she snaps her phone shut and slides it into her back pocket. She needed both hands to slide the window open, at least if she wanted to do it carefully enough that it didn’t creak and squeak when she did so.

Even from a story below, she can tell that Gojo is pouting at his own phone before he puts it away. He seems to get over it once she’s got her window open and she’s swinging a leg out, though.

“Come on down, Juliet, I’ll catch you!” He hollers, louder than he should have.

(y/n) swings her other leg out, sitting on the window sill almost completely leaning out of the building.

“Move out of the way, Gojo” She hisses down at him, but he only extends his arms, waving his fingers at her to prompt her to come down already.

He’d been pacing around out here for the last forty-five minutes debating on texting her, so he was antsy to finally get going.

Giving up, (y/n) pushed off the window sill, and landed on her feet with ease and perfect balance seconds later. She certainly didn’t need him to catch her, but he’s right in front of her anyways, hands settling on her shoulders as if she wasn’t standing before him in perfect condition.

“Good?” He asks, and he’s still grinning ear to ear, but it’s a little different.

She’s not sure how she didn’t notice before, but he wasn’t wearing his sunglasses. She could see the crinkles at the corners of his bright blue eyes when he smiled. For a half a second, she could’ve gotten lost in the cerulean waves swirling in his irises. His eyes were bright even in the dark, they practically gave the illusion of glowing.

“Yeah- yeah,” She chokes on her answer, and quickly averts her gaze before he could tease her for staring at him so blatantly. “Let’s just get going, I don’t want to get caught”

“I’d never get us caught,” Gojo scoffs, apparently offended that she could even think such a thing. “Besides, you’ve got a clean track record, you’d probably get off easy anyways”

She rolls her eyes at him as they start their trek off campus, but she can’t help the small smile of amusement on her face. Gojo wasn’t wrong, she did have a squeaky clean record, which she’d proudly maintained since transferring here, but now…

It wasn’t that she was aiming to rebel, she didn’t need to do anything crazy, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t live a little… right? And what was one trip to a twenty-four hour convenience store in the grand scheme of things?

“Has anyone ever told you you’re obnoxious?” She asks, but her voice betrays her with soft fondness, and it’s obvious that Gojo notices with the way he looks over at her with the largest, stupidest grin on his face.

“Never with a straight face,” He replies, only to laugh when he catches her smiling at him as soon as he looks at her. She wants to roll her eyes again, but she doesn’t. She just laughs with him and doesn’t argue. “You can admit you like my company, I won’t tell anyone,” He adds, only partially teasing. “”Promise”

“You better keep that promise,” (y/n) mutters back. “For whatever her odd reason, Shoko thinks I’m cool, and I’d like to keep that status”

“That’s because you perform your twisted little cursed technique on her every time she asks,” Gojo says. “Shoko’s got an obsession with the occult, and you are certainly all things occult”

The corner of her lips tilt into a smirk. She wouldn’t necessarily agree, but he wasn’t wrong about her cursed technique. With the ability to access anyone’s thread of fate- that little string hidden in their soul that keeps them alive as long as it’s intact- her cursed technique was a bit more involved than the other Special Grades’ she’d met thus far.

It was gruesome when executed on an assignment, Gojo had seen it first hand only once. With a plunge of her hand into a curse’s body she’d retrieve the thread, and rip it apart with both fists. The curse was exorcized immediately and they called it a day sooner than expected.

Shoko, however, enjoyed seeing it the way anyone liked a party trick. She’d clasp her hands together and beg for (y/n) to open up her soul for her. All of her hours spent in the morgue and the lab might’ve been warping her curiosity, but she was always delighted when cursed energy would encase (y/n’s) hand and she’d reach right into her body as if she phased right through the skin and bones, before retrieving that solid black thread.

“Are you saying that I’m not cool?” (y/n) asks Gojo suddenly, and she’s only messing with him, but he backtracks instantly.

“I never said that!” He shouts, his voice echoing over the empty path they walked into town. “You’re easily the coolest person I’ve ever met, (y/l/n) (y/n). You put the special in Special Grade for sure!”

That has her rolling her eyes again, even though she’s laughing at the stupid line.

“There are more interesting qualities about you than a cursed technique, that’s all,”

The sudden genuine comment has her laughter fading and a look of quiet surprise overtaking her features when she looks back at him. He’s already staring at her, with that stupid grin and his prying eyes that seemed a little softer now. He had these moments often, where in the midst of his teasing and nonsense, he’d say something so deeply real, and she knew it, that it would practically knock the wind out of her. Like right now, where all she can do is stare at him and wait for him to say something else.

“Like, yeah, I have the Six Eyes and I’m mastering Infinity and sure, I suppose I am the strongest being on this earth, maybe ever,” He starts to ramble, and (y/n) can practically feel the idiot comment making it’s way out. “But I’m more than that. I’m also… really handsome,”

She snorts, before a short burst of giggles follows and she shakes her head. Just as expected, Gojo Satoru will always bury the real feelings under the perfectly tailored facade.

“What? It’s true!” He barks in offense when she laughs. “I’m ridiculously handsome- it’s almost too much hotness for one man to carry alone!”

“Uh-huh”

“So you agree? I’m ridiculously handsome?” He grins like he actually caught her in something, and she laughs again.

“I didn’t say that,” But she didn’t exactly deny it either, did she? “But more importantly, you’re ridiculously rich, and you’re buying me mochi, too”

And just like him, she’ll bury the budding sparks of feelings she doesn’t want to admit she has in order to preserve something more long lasting. Friendship. She’d never had friends like this before, people who understood her so deeply, people who took an interest in her even when their interests didn’t align. Gojo Satoru especially took an interest, and she had a feeling he enjoyed making her push her limits, because she enjoyed letting him do it.

“Pfft, fine,” Satoru mutters in mock annoyance. “Was jus’ gonna buy it anyways”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

After that, Gojo Satoru has a knack for getting (y/n) to sneak out of her dorm past curfew. He wasn’t always dragging her off campus, oftentimes they’d just sit on the roof, or wander the courtyards, but there was the occasional midnight snack run that he’d insist on taking her on. One time he insisted on showing her how he’d refined his technique, so she sat around for a good two hours while he just showed off. This wasn’t necessarily out of character for him, so she sat and gave him her attention even though her time would’ve been much better spent sleeping.

Unfortunately, and unknown to him, the feelings that she was developing for him had started to accelerate. It seemed that with every night he came to her window to pester her, her heart simply couldn’t feel irritation towards him. Not that he couldn’t get under skin, it’s just that he managed to settle in there. To the point where when she was away from him, she found herself counting down the time until she’d get to be near him again.

It was almost pathetic, when she really thought about it. Missing the boisterous presence of Gojo Satoru was laughable. At first she buried the idea, but she wasn’t one to live a life of denial, and no sooner than he could next drag her out in the middle of the night did she accept that she was actually falling for the Six Eyes user. Their friends would poke fun at her if they knew- which they did, but this wasn’t due to her actually telling them.

But it was unable to be helped. He always found a way to make her heart skip a beat before it picks up in pace.

“I think Nanami is a worthy sorcerer, I don’t have any problem with his company” She shrugs with her words, before leaning back on her elbows.

The tiles of the roof weren’t the most comfortable to sit on, but they often found themselves lounging around there anyways. Maybe it was because it was the perfect place to view the stars, or maybe conversation just seemed to come so much easier up there.

“It’s nothing to do with that,” Satoru mutters, a bitterness to his words that she didn’t often hear from him. He was always overbearingly sweet or chipper with his speech. Maybe it was the roof that brought on a sudden change in tone, or maybe it was because they were something he couldn’t hold back. “You’re more than capable of taking that assignment alone. You’re Special Grade. You don’t need some first year- or anyone- to partner up with you,”

Just as she’s about to open her mouth to come to Nanami Kento’s defense, she seals her lips tight. It wasn’t about Nanami’s ability at all, she realized, as Gojo set his gaze firmly on the horizon. It was about hers.

“The higher ups never want to admit when someone is stronger than them, probably ‘cause they’re scared we’ll overthrow them, or something,” He mumbles the last part, but (y/n) has a feeling there’s more feelings brewing beneath the surface of his bitterness. “They want to morph into this strong… thing… but then as soon as you actually achieve their ridiculous expectations they’ll spend the rest of your life doing everything they can to remind you that you’re not…” He trails off for a moment, and even though he’s refusing to look at her, she can see emotion flickering in the corner of his eye. He lets out a sigh before finishing his thought, “... good enough”

(y/n’s) quiet as she lets it sink in. She doesn’t want to speak too soon and lead him to assume she’d brushed off all he said, but before she could accurately voice her thoughts, he turns to her and releases an airy laugh.

His lips are curved into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and (y/n) can’t help but frown before he even says anything.

“I don’t think that came out right-”

“No, it did,” She interrupts him gently. She gives him a small nod of her head, understanding perfectly what he was saying. It was a warning, but it was also a compliment to her abilities, and she wanted him to know that she appreciated it in it’s entirety. Surprisingly, Satoru shuts his mouth. “If taking on partnered assignments is what gets me through the rest of my time here, I’ll do it,” She explains, and she watches as his forced smile begins to crumple with disappointment. “Besides, it’s good for Nanami to get the experience too, yeah?” She muses, but Satoru’s expression doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink. “I have to fall somewhere in between being a good sorcerer and being a good upperclassman, too”

“You’re already doing that,” He points out, almost rudely, but his adamance makes her heart stutter. “You’re a Special Grade, and you already train and tutor the others, what more could possibly be asked of you?”

His upset is evident in his features, but the creases of his frown and pinched brows only deepen when (y/n) lets out a soft laugh. It’s quiet, but genuine nonetheless. She couldn’t help but find comfort and amusement in his determination.

“Sorry,” She murmurs when she realizes her laughter only fueled his irritation. “I’m just amazed that Gojo Satoru is so worried about my reputation”

“I’m not- (y/n), it’s about more than- ugh,” He huffs after he stumbles too much and loses sight of what he was really trying to say. This time, (y/n) stifles her laughter behind sealed lips, but the slight movement in her shoulders still gives her away. Satoru turns away again, his face growing warm as he finally mumbles in defeat, “I just don’t want them taking advantage of you, too”

(y/n’s) smiling at him, although he can only sort of tell with his peripheral vision. She leans forward and tilts her head, trying to get him to turn towards her again, but he refuses. He can’t have her seeing the creeping blush on his face, after all.

“Thank you, Satoru” She tells him, and it’s the first time she’s called him by his forename alone- she tended to call him Gojo Satoru just to spite him- but hearing it now, spoken in such a small but genuine voice, it has him giving in and looking over at her so quickly it’s almost embarrassing to give her such a noticeable reaction. His eyes are wide and his mouth is snapped shut, worried it’d go completely dry if he left it open.

Gojo Satoru is fairly certain he’s never experienced what falling in love felt like, but he’d never tried to seek it out, either. He was content with his life, he felt as though he checked all the right boxes, with being born the strongest sorcerer, having the greatest friends in the world, he’d never really considered what having more would look like.

Right now, it looked like (y/e/c) eyes and a shy smile.

As suspected, his mouth goes dry when he opens it.

“You’re… welcome” He answers slowly, and it’s a bit awkward but (y/n) doesn’t point it out. She simply leans back on her arms again and turns her attention back towards the stars.

In a few minutes she’d strike up conversation again and they’d spend the rest of their night chatting aimlessly about nothing special in particular, but neither one wanted to be the first to alert the other of the time. So they’d sit there until the sunrise would peek over the horizon, and slowly, but eventually, they’d sneak back into the building with tired goodbyes and plans to meet up with their friends during lunch like they always did.

Everything was exactly as it always was. But it was undeniably different.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Satoru scoffs when Shoko tells him about a party she’d been invited to by a non-sorcerer she and (y/n) ran into while in town. A non-sorcerer party sounds like the perfect way to waste an evening. Although he won’t admit he feels relief that neither one of them actually planned on going, and he knows that (y/n) already tucked herself in her room for the night.

She’s probably studying, he thinks to himself fondly. It was a friday night, sure, she should be doing something fun with her evening, but he’d much rather have her here than out doing who knows what at some lame party.

“He was cute too, can’t believe she turned him down,”

That little comment had him snapping back into conversation- he might’ve tuned Shoko out a bit when she started going on about the cashier giving her a hard time over her less-than-authentic ID for her smokes- but now all of his senses were tuned back into what she was saying.

Shoko rolls her eyes when his head swivels at super human speed. She’s not offended that he’d so clearly been ignoring her, not when it’s so amusing that she brought him back to earth the only way she knew how- by praying on his jealousy and pride. Oldest trick in the book, she smirked to herself. She and Suguru had mastered this trick ages ago.

“Wonder why she’d do such a thing” She mutters in mock curiosity, before pulling out her new pack of cigarettes and sticking one between her lips. Satoru narrows his eyes at her, picking up on the lack of subtlety. It wasn’t often that he did so.

“You’re blaming me for (y/n) not being interested in some random non-sorcerer?” He laughs humorlessly at the notion, and Shoko mirrors it with a laugh of absolute humor.

“She’s your most favorite Special Grade, isn’t she?” She muses, plucking the cigarette from her lips to exhale the smoke in her lungs before she presses him again. “If it weren’t for you, she’d be out living her life for once”

“You’re acting like I keep her from doing anything-”

“I’m not,” Shoko shrugs, her expression turning bored. “I was actually trying to insinuate that she’d rather hang around here getting in trouble with you than doing, I don’t know, normal things. Like parties. And… other things that happen at parties” She finishes with a smirk before she sticks the cigarette back in her mouth to puff some more.

Satoru flusters, not having a quick witted comment to come back at her with. His silence is just as damning, however, and Shoko begins to laugh again, plumes of smoke puffing out as she does so.

“She’s probably never even been to a party,” She says, as if talking to herself, but Satoru’s well aware that she’s just luring him into her trap.

Now, he’s not completely sure what that trap is, some sort of admission of guilt he assumes, but for what?

“She’d probably love the scene. Dancing, mingling. Non-sorcerers would love her for sure. She could do her whole ‘there is no god, only I control your fate’ thing, they’d eat that up”

“She said that one time-”

“Yeah, and it was badass,” Shoko cuts him off. “I got chills and I wasn’t even there,” She pulls up the sleeve of her jacket then, chuckling when she finds the little hairs on her arms standing up. “See? Chills”

Satoru swats her arm out of his face when she shoves it in front of him.

“What are you getting at? Are you asking me to take her? I don’t want to go to a party with a bunch of strangers whose collective idea of a good time is alcohol poisoning and shitty music”

“Harsh, Satoru, who’s got your panties in a bunch?”

He could teleport away right now, before Suguru even completely approaches the two of them, but isn’t it all the more damning if he turns and runs? He doesn’t make a decision before Suguru has joined them at their usual table in the courtyard. Shoko’s passing him a cigarette without any words exchanged.

“Guess” She speaks in monotone as she hands him her lighter.

“I’m leaving” Satoru finally decides, stuffing his hands in his pockets, surely about to stomp away. The other two snicker between one another.

“Awe c’mon, don’t be like that, Satoru” Suguru calls, but he doesn’t try to chase down his sulking friend.

“When ya get to (y/n’s) can you remind her she still has my spare jacket?” Shoko hollers, which is followed by the sound of her and Suguru bursting into a fit of laughter.

Satoru warps with a huff before they could continue obnoxiously yelling at his back. He barely wipes the scowl off his face before he’s knocking on the door he reappears at.

“It’s open!” Is called from inside, but he’s still cautious when he slides it open.

(y/n’s) at her desk, one earbud in her ear and one hanging in front of her. She’s surrounded by piles of books and papers, not to mention the highlighter in her hand and the pen tucked above her ear. She’d clearly been busy with her studies, but when she looks up to see who her visitor was, she picks up her iPod Shuffle and hits pause before she plucks the other bud out of her ear.

“What a surprise,” She greets him with a warm smile. “To see you actually using the door, that is,”

That cracks a smile on his unusually sour face, and (y/n) leans back in her chair, already forgetting the work in front of her as she takes him in. Her arms cross over her chest as her brow furrows just a little bit.

“What’s wrong?”

“Something has to be wrong for me to stop by?” He asks, leaning back into the doorway. “Can’t I just be a good friend and come say hi?”

She raises a brow at him.

“Hi” She says with a smile too sweet to be real, or at least he thinks.

Satoru rolls his eyes, but his own smile is more genuine than he’d like to admit.

“Hi,” He replies. (y/n) smiles a little wider. “Is this really your plan for the night?” He asks, wagging his finger in a circular motion at the pile of work she had before her.

“It was,” She claims. “But I have this odd feeling… like you’re about to drag me off…?” She can barely contain her delight, even as she presses her finger against her pursed lips in mock curiosity.

“Take you away from your studies? Who do you think I am, Special Grade? A bad influence?”

“And apparently a mind reader, too” She quips.

“Well… do you want me to drag you out of here or not?”

It’s only a dizzy spell from Satoru’s warping later that they find themselves in the middle of a neighborhood, in front of a house she doesn’t recognize. Needless to say, it was not a usual spot for them.

“A house party?” (y/n) furrows her brows at him, before glancing down at herself. She’d ditched her uniform jacket at least, but she was still in black slacks and her white tee shirt. “You couldn’t have told me to wear something different?”

Satoru frowns, before mirroring her actions. In the same pants and a black tee shirt himself, he takes offense to her insinuation.

“You don’t think I make this look good?” He pouts.

“I think we look like we’re in costumes- what are we doing here, anyways?” She asks.

“Shoko told me about it,” He says, before taking a step towards the house. “C’mon let’s go in”

Begrudgingly, she follows him, even though she’s still completely unsure of the whole thing.

“This is really what you wanted to do?” She asks, and Satoru doesn’t miss the way she stiffens when he lets himself into the house without even a knock. She supposes knocking or ringing the doorbell would have been pointless, seeing as the music playing inside was so loud the bass could be heard from the front yard, but it unsettles her nonetheless.

No, he thinks.

But what he says is; “Why not?” with that big dumb grin of his that tells her she should keep her guard up tonight.

It’s strange that she can trust him with her life while simultaneously not trusting him in the slightest at this moment.

The house party is picture perfect, captured like every movie scene depicting a house party ever. Countless bodies inhabiting the open living room, the staircase, and the few hallways she could see just from stepping through the door. It seems everyone’s either holding a plastic cup, a beer bottle, a cigarette, or some combination of the three. When they take a few steps in and she doesn’t feel any weird stares, her stomach starts to settle, but the voice in the back of her mind still whines that she should’ve at least changed into a pair of jeans.

Satoru’s not taking any of it in- at all. Despite his Six Eyes, he hardly notices the bustling of dancing bodies, or bodies trying to push through the crowd. The music is at just the right volume to ring in his ears in a way that will ache tomorrow, but he doesn’t register the melody enough to identify the song, and he doesn’t try, either. He’s far more charmed by the way (y/n) takes it all in with complete enamourment and intrigue than he could be by the scene itself.

The scene itself was unimpressive. A loud, smoky atmosphere that had his skin crawling before even attempting to walk through the crowd of people made him want to wince. He tried to keep his expression as neutral as he could, not wanting to take away from (y/n’s) experience, but when his eyes surveyed the place, they squinted with disgust. It was even starting to smell.

“What first, hm?” He turned towards her in an attempt to block out the setting they found themselves in. If only he could turn off his Six Eyes and tunnel vision completely on her. “Body shots? Dancing?”

(y/n) scoffs, but a humored smile curls on her lips as she meets his gaze.

“How about just a drink?”

“A shot?”

“One beer”

His grin twitches, before he gives her a nod and takes off into the crowd that had his Infinity flickering on instantaneously. Satoru’s got his sights set straight on the kitchen, it seems a little less crowded in there, and the array of coolers and bottles on the counter was the most appealing thing about this place.

(y/n) let her eyes wander every person they passed, taking in everything she could. Every smile, every laugh, every outfit and anything else there was to take note of. A few people noticed her curious staring, some waved, some seemed indifferent, some stared back, but nothing captured her attention quicker than Satoru tapping her on the shoulder once they’d reached the kitchen. He’s already holding a bottle out to her, and she takes it with a quiet thank you.

He takes it back from her moments later when she tries to unscrew the bottle cap. The grin she knows to be cautious of returns as he points a finger at it, thumb outstretched, and with a quiet zap the cap flies off. Surprisingly, he doesn’t completely shatter the bottle with his abundance of cursed energy, but the bottle cap does go flying, and they hear a distant ‘ow!’.

“I could’ve found a bottle opener” (y/n) tells him, but he knows she was at least a little bit impressed by his finite control over his technique.

“But ya already got one,” He quips with pride. She stifles her laugh by raising the bottle to her lips, taking a few long drinks. Satoru’s eyebrows almost raise to his hairline, a shocked laugh belting out of him when she finishes.

“I figured you’ve never had a drop to drink before” He says when she gives him a confused look.

“I haven’t” She confirms. Satoru keeps his mouth shut after that.

They spend a few hours at the house party, to both of their surprise. There’s some mingling, (y/n) seemed to enjoy meeting new people, and drunk people seemed to enjoy flocking to her. Girls thought her attire was badass, guys liked talking to a girl that talked back- at least until Satoru’s face would screw up enough that they’d leave. Other than a few offers of phone numbers, he couldn’t say he hated the whole party setting.

But his acceptance of the whole ordeal might have had less to do with the party being fun and more to do with the company he kept for the night. As much as (y/n) moved about to enjoy every aspect of the simple party, she had a habit of sticking as close to his side as possible. If she was walking away, her hand was latching onto his, or his elbow, to keep him moving with her. If they were surrounded in a tightly packed space, she was glued to his side, tucked under her arm and pressed against him from torso to leg. Satoru deducted that he’d never show up to one of these things alone, but if she asked him? Hell, he might agree without thinking twice.

“Hear me out- hear me out!” She doesn’t need to tell him twice, but she shouts when she repeats herself just to be sure that Satoru can hear her clearly. “I think we should throw our- our own party, back at- back at home”

It’s cute that she calls it home, he thinks. Logically, he knows it’s because she’s never really had a solid place to land before Yaga scouted her and took her in, but it still has a way of making his heart flutter with the idea of her involving him in her idea of home.

They’ve taken a break from chatting with strangers, to Satoru’s relief, and right now he had her attention all to himself. They were currently wallflowering in a corner between the hallway and the living room, a water bottle being passed between them, although he tried to keep it more in her hands than his, considering she out drank him rather quickly.

“I dunno, Suguru and Shoko aren’t really party animals,” He replies, earning a bubbly giggle from her, which he takes to mean she agrees. “I think you might just be enjoying yourself too much”

“No such thing,” She argues with a definitive shake of her head. “And don’t lie, you’re having fun, too!”

She’s shouting a bit again, and Satoru laughs. Shoko and Suguru wouldn’t believe him later when he tells them about how cute she was when she was tipsy and talkative. Oh well, he’d have to enjoy it for himself first hand. He already couldn’t get enough of it, of her eager attention. He’s so wrapped up in it he’s been leaning closer and closer each time she speaks. Until he’s practically hanging onto the corner of the wall, pressing closer to the side she’d been leaning against.

“I wouldn’t attribute that to this party” He scoffs, almost rudely as he glances at the remaining people.

There’s a couple making out on the couch, a circle forming at the bottom of the stairs with a bong being slowly passed around, a few people are passed out on open furniture, at least one person sleeping on the floor- and he can only imagine what’s going on upstairs.

When he looks back at her, her eyes are already focused on his. Round and full of pure delight, as if this had been the greatest night of her life. Satoru pushes his sunglasses on top of his head, revealing the slight squint in his gaze. (y/n) tilts her head curiously when she catches the furrow forming in his brows, too.

“What?” She asks him, still studying his puzzled expression. It’s a bit difficult, with his pretty eyes on display, her mind was a little one track at the moment and it was hard to focus on anything other than the perfect cerulean oceans.

“How come you never went out ‘n did this stuff before moving here?”

Her shoulders rise and fall unceremoniously.

“I guess cause no one ever dragged me into doing them. Teleporters were in short supply, too” She laughs at her own joke, and Satoru cracks a smile, reveling in her amusement.

“Well aren’t you in luck, then,” He hums, and he admits his insides are starting to feel doughy when he’s the object her soft gaze is so set on, and it’s probably about time to convince her to head home, but that would mean ruining her fun, and he can’t bring himself to do so just yet. “Did you get to have all the synthetically produced fun you wanted?” He teases, and she shrugs again, but this time the motion is gentler, more careful.

“I had a good time with you,” The reply is genuine, making it all the more hard hitting to his heart. Even his Infinity couldn’t protect him from that. Her eyes finally tear away from his, only to glance over the dwindling crowd of drunken bodies. “You sort of scared off all my kiss options though”

“Kiss options?” He repeats with a laugh, taking her comment for a joke. When she looks up at him again, he can tell in her deluded, drunken mind, she’d been absolutely serious. “You’re joking. You wanted to kiss one of these clowns?” He clicks his tongue in displeasure, but her expression doesn’t waver.

“It’s a bit late for it now. But I figured it was as good a time as any to get it out of the way,” She says, in that light but serious tone again, and now Satoru feels his heart dropping. “Oh well,” She sighs, leaning further into the wall, until her head rested against it. “Another time…”

“What, it’s on your bucket list to kiss some rando?” He teases half-heartedly.

Had she been trying to make a move on someone all night? Now Satoru’s mind was racing with thoughts that made his stomach twist into knots. Had he misread their entire evening? Had she been trying to ditch him? Was he the one clinging to her? Well, he’d clung a little bit, but it felt natural to wrap his arm around her waist and keep her close! His heart started hammering in his chest as the nasty feeling in his gut began to climb up his throat.

“No,” She says, laughing under her breath at the idea. “Just wanted to get the first one over with”

Gojo’s eyes widen almost comically, before he leans in and drops his voice to a whisper, as if to spare her any embarrassment.

“As in first kiss?” He mutters, eyes darting around just to be sure no one else could hear. (y/n’s) laughter bubbles at his dramatic display, and takes no offense to it at all, simply nodding her head.

“Yeah, as in first kiss,” She repeats with the same secretive act, before laughing again. “Don’t act all surprised now”

“Baby, I’m not acting,” The pet name falls off his tongue sarcastically, but he can’t deny it feels a bit too natural. “You’ve never kissed anyone?”

“Nope” She pops her lips and shakes her head.

“And of all places you wanted to kiss someone here?” He asks, his lips curling into a grimace as he recalled the candidates from earlier. The pickings weren’t exactly ripe.

“It was just a kiss,” She rolls her eyes at his reaction. “I wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, Satoru, I just wanted to know what it was like. Figured it might come up organically in a party setting”

Satoru sticks his tongue out and gags.

“Absolutely not. Why didn’t you just say somethin’? I would’ve kissed ya”

“That doesn’t count” She shakes her head, and he narrows his eyes back at her.

“And why not?” He asks, clearly offended. “I’ll have you know I’m a great kisser!”

“Oh yeah? Your hand told you so?” (y/n) snickers, and Satoru’s pout noticeably worsens. “I don’t want a pity kiss, I want a real kiss. Y’know, so I can be good at it before it… really matters”

“It would be a real kiss, dummy, what difference does it make?” He’s not following her logic, and he can’t tell if it’s drunk (y/n) logic or if this had been on her mind all night.

She blinks at him, the humor in her features fading away the longer he stares back at her and she begins to realize he’s being serious. Her brows twitch, and her mouth opens but no words come out. What was she supposed to say? Yes, kiss me now!? It felt awkward to suddenly rush into it and accept his offer. But she also didn’t want to let the moment pass and regret it later.

“It won’t be weird,” Satoru purses his lips and shakes his head with as much nonchalance as he can muster. It’s as though he’s reading her mind, and the thought of taking him up on it makes her face feel warm. “Besides, I would be a bad friend letting you have a bad first kiss with some non-sorcerer that doesn’t know what he’s doing”

“You’d feel bad?” A small laugh escapes her as she teases him, tilting her chin up at him. Satoru nods his head from side to side with uncertain confirmation. “Okay then”

“Okay?” He repeats.

“Yeah”

“You’ll let me?”

It’s an odd way of phrasing it, she’ll let him kiss her, as if he was the one seeking it out in the first place. However Satoru was simply doing her a favor, wasn’t he? Helping her get the first one out of the way. He’d much rather he do it himself than let any of the idiots she met tonight get the chance. But that’s just because they weren’t worthy like he was, and that was a fair assessment, wasn’t it?

He swallows the lump in his throat with only a little difficulty before she nods back at him and gives him a hum of approval. She’ll actually let him.

When he doesn’t make a move, she tilts her head at him in confusion.

“Well?”

“Well come on,” He beckons her, before taking her by the hand and pulling her away from the wall they’d been hugging for the better part of an hour. “Can’t have it be in some stranger’s house, might as well get a better view than that, yeah?”

He grins at her as he half guides and half drags her outside. She’s a little lost on his logic, because it was just a kiss wasn’t it? Did the setting really matter? Although once they’re outside she has to admit the moon’s luminescence did provide a nicer atmosphere. A smile graces her face as she admires the sky, until Satoru stops them.

“Here’s good,” He decides, grinning back at her. “Got a speech planned? Anyone you want to thank?”

“Well, I never thought I’d make it this far,” She giggles as she goes along with the bit. “I suppose at the end of it all I only have myself to thank, really-”

“Ahem”

“Oh, and of course Gojo Satoru, for the wonderful opportunity,” She corrects, barely containing her laughter through her made-up speech. Satoru brightens, grinning from ear to ear at her delight. “I think that’s all I got”

He chuckles, before taking a step forward and closing the already small distance between them. Her breath hitches in her throat as reality sets in. She didn’t really think about actually kissing Satoru until he was close enough that his cologne wafted past her nose, and her eyes naturally fell to the pink curve of his lips.

“I’m not kissin’ you with your eyes open,” He laughs breathlessly, and her eyes briefly flicker up to his before she lets them shut. The heat in her face begins to spread down her neck as she holds her breath. “You need me to count down?” He asks, and he’s only partially joking.

“Just kiss me, ‘toru-”

He doesn’t need further assurance beyond her impatient little whine, so in one motion he slides hand around the back of her neck, pulling her forehead just as he dipped his head to meet her lips with his.

She’s frozen at first, unmoving under his soft mouth prodding against hers, but he expected as much. After two seconds, she slowly and carefully kisses him back, still nervous she’d do something wrong.

Her hands are planted firmly at her sides, and her eyes are squeezed shut, but she still cherishes every second of the simple kiss. How sweet his lips taste, how warm and welcoming they are, how much she’d like to stand there and kiss him for a few minutes more…

When she pulls away to catch her breath that she’d been holding in for far too long, Satoru’s hand lingers at the nape of her neck. His fingers twitch, indecisive in what to do next.

Kissing her again wasn’t the right move… was it?

“Thank you,” She tells him softly, her blush prominent on her face even in the dark. “Should we get going now?”

He could almost laugh at how quickly she moved on if it didn’t sting a little. He hides it behind a smile as he nods his head in agreement, getting ready to warp them back home.

“You could’ve thanked my hand in your speech too” He teases as she wraps her arms round one of his, mentally preparing for the dizzying effect of teleportation.

“Shut up” She giggles back before they disappear from the scene.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Satoru’s never turned down (y/n’s) company. He’s never wanted her to be away from him, and he’d never ask her to, either. There was no one whose presence he delighted in more than hers- and he was starting to really come to terms with what that meant.

“You should go to bed,” He tells her, for the third time tonight.

There was no reason for him to stay up on guard with him. He had surveillance covered while Suguru and Riko slept. There was no sense in (y/n) staying up all night and wasting away her energy. Not when she’d already done so last night, despite his protests then, too.

She’s sitting on the other end of the sofa, a small carton of ice cream in her hands that she was poking around in, trying to scoop out all of the brownie bits first. She looks like she hadn’t even heard him, but Satoru’s not falling for it.

“Seriously, (y/n), you need rest” He sighs, hoping tonight he’d get through to her.

She hums thoughtfully, her eyes focused on her snack, and Satoru throws his head back against the couch cushion in defeat.

“We could put a movie on, good way to pass time,” She suggests, completely ignoring his request. “I’ll even let you pick” She adds, shooting him a warm smile.

“You’re not gonna sleep, are you?” Satoru frowns when he turns his head to look at her. Her smile remains as she shakes her head.

“Nope,” She murmurs sweetly. “So you might as well pick something to watch”

She’d pulled this last night, too. Convincing him to hang out at the beach all night, swimming and stargazing. He adored her company, he really did, but she hadn’t slept a wink yesterday, and he couldn’t put her through 48 straight hours without it.

He knows she’s exhausted, her eyes were dull, and starting to get puffy from lack of rest. She did her best keeping up an energetic attitude, especially during the day when Suguru and Riko had still been awake, she’d fooled them almost too easily. But Satoru knew better. He knew her better.

“If I put a movie on will you at least lay down?”

Her eyes narrow at him, before she lowers her ice cream to her lap.

“Are you trying to trick me into falling asleep, Satoru?”

“I’m trying to make sure you’re not going to go delirious because you’re not sleeping a normal human amount-” He tries to argue but she interrupts him.

“You haven’t slept either, hypocrite,” She mutters the last part. “I’m resting enough just sitting around for the night, aren’t I?”

“No-”

“Pick the damn movie, Satoru”

He huffs, but for some reason he finds himself putting a random disc in the dvd player before he falls onto the sofa again. (y/n) remains at her end, slowly picking at her ice cream while the movie starts. Satoru doesn’t have the energy to argue with her- literally, he’s starting to get tired keeping his Infinity up like this- so he sits in silence and watches the tv. All he can do now is hope that she’ll get tired over time and maybe just pass out. She couldn’t keep it up forever, could she?

Two more movies later, Satoru worries he’d grossly underestimated her. It had been almost six hours- it was nearing four in the morning- and she still reluctantly had her eyes glued to the tv. He’d tried a few more times to convince her, but all he’d managed was to get her to share a blanket with him.

It hadn’t been enough. She settled under the fluffy blanket, right up against his side, and still it wasn’t enough coziness to lure her into sleep. He had to give her some credit for her stubbornness, that was for sure.

Around the 4:30 mark, he feels a weight pressing into his shoulder- well, against the Infinity, and he’s filled with so much hope he almost drops the barrier just to fully enjoy the feeling of her sleeping against him.

Then she alerts him that she’s still awake by speaking.

“Satoru,” It’s soft, so faint that he holds onto hope that she could still drift off. “If I do fall asleep, you’ll wake me up, won’t you?”

He chuckles, before sliding his arm around her back, making sure to tuck the blanket up to her shoulder before he settles his arm there, keeping her tucked in against him. He tells himself that this is all to make sure she’ll get some sleep- against her will or not- and that it had nothing to do with how his heart felt full when she snuggled a little deeper into his hold.

“You know I’m not gonna, Special Grade,” He murmurs back. She grumbles something inaudible, but he assumes it has something to do with the heavier droop of her head.

After a few minutes, he raises his hand from her shoulder, and slowly presses his fingers against her temple, easing her into a more comfortable position, until eventually he feels her slump completely as she gives in.

He lets their movie keep on rolling once she’s finally asleep against him, it at least held his attention enough to keep him awake. The hammering of his heart in his chest might’ve also kept his adrenaline kicking for long enough that it wouldn’t have mattered, though.

The following day, (y/n) gives him a few icy glares, just to remind him that she didn’t appreciate his cruel trick. Riko and Suguru share a few awkward glances as the two half fight and half joke about the whole thing. They try to remove themselves from the pair’s bantering as much as they can, unable to stand the levels of chemistry they carried into every room.

“Seriously Satoru, it’s going to make me sick,” Suguru mutters to his friend at one point, while (y/n) and Riko are busy wandering the shore for seashells, or something. “Make a move or don’t, but you’re driving the rest of us mad”

Satoru laughs, his eyes squinting against the sun even with his shades on. It was getting exhausting keeping them open, the amount of cursed energy it took to keep up Infinity and his Six Eyes had been giving him headaches all day, but he did his best to hide it.

“You’re just jealous that she likes me more” He says, even though Suguru doesn’t care in the slightest, and he even rolls his eyes to drive that point home.

“Well she’s not gonna like you forever if you keep up this dumb game,” He argues. “What kind of friends kiss and then don’t do anything about it?”

“I told you that in confidence” Satoru whines.

“You told me in the middle of the night right after it happened,” Suguru reminds him in a plain tone of voice. “Seriously, we all know she has feelings for you, so stop being a coward”

“Not a coward,’ Satoru mumbles, kicking at the sand. “We’re just… sorta in the middle of something here?” He tries to blame it on the assignment, but Suguru gives him a blank look.

“We’re at the beach,” He mutters. “She’s been staying up with you, too, so do it then, after the rest of us have gone to sleep” He points a finger at him for the last part, making sure it was crystal clear.

“I don’t know. Maybe” Satoru huffs, and starts to walk away before Suguru could drag the conversation on any longer.

He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening mulling it over. He’d known how he felt about her for quite some time now, before he’d even kissed her. The kiss was just the solidification that his feelings were real, and not some romanticized imagination his mind had drawn up. But he’d never felt love before, and he had no clue how to go about professing it.

He’s antsy when he and (y/n) find themselves on the beach again that night, long past sunset, long past when everyone else had gone to bed. They’re both seated on a towel to keep their clothes clear of sand, but with their feet digging into the soft grains it didn’t matter, the towel became a mess anyways.

“I don’t want you to stay up too late again,” He tells her, although it feels useless. “It’s just not good for you,” He looks over at her, taking in the darker circles under her eyes, the paleness in her features even after spending the day in the sun. “And it’s not worth it”

She gives him a bittersweet smile, her head tilting just slightly as she regards his worry.

“It is worth it,” She replies quietly. “I don’t want you to be alone out here,” She tells him, watching the way his expression falters and softens. “It’s just not good for you” She mimics him with a laugh for good measure, and he barely cracks a smile, but his worry is still evident.

“Well, when this assignment is over, can you promise to sleep for three days straight to make up for it?” He asks, and she thinks it over for a moment before nodding her head in agreement.

“I suppose,” She answers. “As long as you do, too,” She adds quickly, “Fair is fair”

Satoru rolls his eyes, but his smile is a little more genuine this time.

“Alright then, 72 hours of sleep it is,” He gives in. “But I’m holding you to that promise”

“I don’t break promises,” She tells him confidently, before a quietness settles between them again. Her gaze lingers on the low tide rolling in as she lets her mind wander, and before she knows it, she’s speaking up again. “I know you don’t think you need anyone looking out for you, Satoru,”

He looks at her right away, tired eyes widening at the sudden seriousness in her tone. She’s still watching the tide, completely captured by it, but he can tell she’s holding in more.

“But I… I worry about you,” She admits, dropping her head to stare at her lap. “I don’t want you to take on more than you can handle, I… I don’t want them to take advantage of you anymore,”

She swallows the lump in her throat before finally working up the courage to look over at him.

“I know that you’re the strongest, and it’s gonna happen but… but I can’t help this feeling like… I’m here too, you know? I can take things on too, assignments, or… this,” She gives him a weak smile, hoping he understands that her sentiment comes from a good place. “I care about you, you know?” She finishes in a whisper.

Satoru’s eyes shift in between hers as he takes it in. How ironic, that every reason she has for putting herself through hours without rest, were the exact reasons that he wanted her to get rest. The corner of his lips tugs into a small smile as he takes her in now, completely.

Her exhaustion is evident, but with the way she’s looking at him now, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so beautiful.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

In an act of complete selfish desire, he leans over the space between them and plants his lips on hers. Her eyes widen at first, alarmed by the sudden kiss, and the fact that he’s dropped his Infinity in order to touch her at all, but as soon as the shock starts to wear off her eyes fall shut and she’s kissing him back with all the fervor that she wished she had the first time.

It’s another pleasant surprise when she reaches out and finds her fingertips bumping into his cheekbones, before her entire hands up his warm face and she’s pulling him closer to her, kissing him again- and then again some more.

Satoru’s balance is thrown off from the way he leans against her, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed when he wraps his arms around the dip in her back and pulls her closer to him. She obliges with a soft sigh panted against his lips before they’re colliding again.

For all the passion he pours into it- for every ounce of need and impatience he feels, he kisses her slowly, each one lingering a little longer than the last, just to be sure he commits every detail of it to his memory, where it could be preserved in his perfection forever.

He doesn’t let go of her when they finally pull apart, and she doesn’t pull her hands away from his face, either. They keep each other close, as close as they can while still catching their breath.

Her eyes are wide when they meet his, confused and ecstatic all in one sweet expression that Satoru wants to add to his collection of memories. He smiles at her as his eyes wander her face leisurely.

“What was that for?” She murmurs, the pad of her thumb rubbing over the delicate curve of his cheekbone with nothing but fondness in her touch.

He chuckles, warm breath fanning over her lips.

Wasn’t it obvious?

“Because,”

His voice is a mere murmur, and for a moment she thinks that might be his entire answer. She wouldn’t put it past him, but there’s a look in his eyes that resembles longing, and she knows there must be more.

“I love you too”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes // i'm your national anthem ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie a/n: i actually had a super rad cursed technique planned for reader but ended up not writing any scenes where she's using it so u WILL see it come up in another fic sometime

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #satoru gojo imagine #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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moonxknightx · 3 months ago

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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : BODYGUARDS : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader x Platonic!Wade Wilson

・❥・GENRE: Fluff :))

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: None!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: When you come home feeling overwhelmed by college stress and a troublesome boss, Logan and Wade step in. After a heartfelt talk with Logan, they confront your boss to ensure you’re no longer troubled. With their support, you find comfort and reassurance, knowing you’re not alone in facing your challenges.

YOU HAD ALWAYS KNOWN LIFE WASN’T EASY, BUT TODAY WAS SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY. The stress of juggling college classes, work, and just trying to keep it all together was slowly getting the better of you. You weren’t the type to break easily, but this… this was overwhelming.

You pushed open the door to the shared apartment you lived in with Logan and Wade, your bag slung over your shoulder, your eyes cast downward. The moment you stepped inside, you were hit with the familiar scent of home, a mix of Logan’s woodsy cologne and Wade’s unmistakable love for chimichangas.

Wade was lounging on the couch, remote in hand, flipping through TV channels. “Hey, sport! You’re just in time to witness me obliterate Logan at Mario Kart,” he called out, grinning like a maniac.

Logan, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, raised an eyebrow at Wade, then glanced at you. Normally, you’d throw a sarcastic quip back at Wade or smile at Logan, but tonight, you couldn’t muster either. You barely looked up.

“Hey,” you mumbled, walking straight past them and into your room, shutting the door softly behind you.

Both men exchanged a look, their senses immediately on high alert.

“That’s… not normal,” Wade commented, frowning slightly. “She didn’t even call me an idiot. Do you think it’s serious?”

Logan stayed silent, eyes narrowing. The way you’d come home, shoulders slumped, weighed down by something unseen—it was enough for him to know something was deeply off.

“Let her have some space,” Logan said gruffly, though the concern in his voice was unmistakable.

Wade sat up a bit straighter. “You think it’s space she needs? Or maybe a hilarious anecdote about the time I fought a taco truck driver because he wouldn’t give me extra guac?”

Logan’s glare was sharp enough to silence even Wade for a moment. “Space,” Logan repeated firmly. “For now.”

Inside your room, you collapsed onto the bed, the soft comforter doing little to quell the storm brewing inside you. Your mind raced, thoughts spiraling.

Your boss at work had been on your case all week, nitpicking every little thing as if you couldn’t do anything right. Then there was that huge exam you’d studied for in your hardest class… and you had failed it. The letter ‘F’ haunted your thoughts, taunting you. Everything felt like it was crumbling, and you didn’t know how to fix it.

You hated feeling this way, like the world was slipping from your control. More than that, you hated the idea of burdening Logan or Wade with it. They had enough going on already.

A knock came at your door—light, but firm. You didn’t respond immediately, but the door cracked open slightly, revealing Logan’s rugged face. His hazel eyes were full of that familiar intensity, softened just enough to show he was concerned.

“Can I come in?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, but gentle in a way reserved just for you.

You nodded, sitting up on the edge of the bed. Logan stepped in, closing the door behind him, and came to sit beside you, his large hand finding its way to your back. His touch was warm, solid, grounding.

“You’ve been off since you walked in,” Logan started, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your back. “Wanna tell me what’s goin’ on?”

The dam you’d tried to keep sealed started to crack. Your throat tightened, and tears you’d been holding back pricked at your eyes. “I… I don’t even know where to start, Logan.”

Logan was silent for a moment, letting you collect yourself. He wasn’t one to push, but when he spoke again, there was a firmness in his tone. “Start wherever you want. I’m here. Wade’s here. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

The floodgates opened. You started rambling, voice shaky, hands trembling as you tried to get it all out—the boss who wouldn’t leave you alone, the crushing pressure from school, the failure of the test you’d worked so hard on, and how everything just felt like it was spiraling out of control.

“I feel like I’m failing at everything, Logan. I try so hard, but it’s never enough. I just… I can’t anymore,” you whispered, finally breaking down, tears streaming freely now.

Logan pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel protected, safe. He didn’t say anything at first, just held you, letting you cry into his shoulder.

“That’s not true,” Logan finally said, his voice steady. “You’re not failing. Things go wrong, yeah. Shit happens. But it doesn’t mean you’re not doing enough. You’re human. You’re allowed to have bad days.”

You sniffled, leaning into him more, soaking in his warmth, his solidity. “It’s just been so much…”

Logan pulled back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes, his hand cupping your cheek gently. “And that’s why you don’t have to do it alone. I got your back, always. And if anyone’s been bothering you…” His voice took on a dangerous edge, “I’ll take care of it.”

You chuckled weakly through your tears. “I don’t want you fighting my boss.”

Logan huffed, but his expression softened. “Alright, no fights. But seriously… You don’t have to deal with that crap on your own.”

At that moment, the door swung open dramatically, and Wade popped his head in, eyes wide with exaggerated concern. “Are we hugging in here? Because I can totally make this a group hug.”

You couldn’t help but laugh despite yourself. Wade had a way of lightening the mood, even when things felt impossibly heavy.

Logan rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything as Wade bounded into the room, throwing himself on the bed beside you.

“I was eavesdropping—sorry, not sorry,” Wade started, “and let me just say, anyone giving you a hard time? Deadpool is on it. I’ve got a very particular set of skills. Skills I’ve acquired over a very chaotic, messy life. I’ll make sure no one messes with my little sibling.” He gave you a dramatic wink.

Logan shot Wade a warning look, but there was an understanding between them. For all their bickering, when it came to you, they were always on the same side.

You smiled, feeling a little lighter with both of them by your side.

Logan rubbed your arm gently. “We’re gonna take the rest of the night off. No school, no work. You need a break.”

“But—”

“No ‘buts’,” Logan said firmly. “You’re taking the night for yourself. We’ll watch a movie or do something fun.”

Wade clapped his hands together. “Movie night! I’ll grab the popcorn. And no, you don’t get a choice— we are watching Shrek.”

Logan let out a small grunt, shaking his head, but he didn’t argue.

You couldn’t help but laugh at Wade’s enthusiasm. Despite the mess of emotions swirling inside you, having them around—one a protective, gruff presence, and the other a chaotic, endearing force—made you feel like maybe things would be okay. You weren’t alone in this, no matter how overwhelming it felt.

Logan pressed a kiss to your temple, his voice low and comforting. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this. Together.”

And for the first time that day, you believed it.

The next morning, you woke up feeling a little more rested. Wade’s snoring had been a background noise throughout the night, and Logan had stayed close, his arm draped protectively around you as the three of you fell asleep halfway through Shrek.

You yawned and stretched, your body feeling lighter than the night before. It wasn’t all better, but you knew with Logan and Wade by your side, you’d get through it.

But what you didn’t know—what neither Logan nor Wade had mentioned to you—was that they had a plan.

Later that day, Logan and Wade stood just outside your workplace, both wearing sunglasses. Wade had insisted it was part of the "covert op" vibe, even though they stood out like sore thumbs. Logan grunted, adjusting his leather jacket.

“Okay, Wolvie, what’s the game plan? Because I’m itching to shove someone’s head in a copy machine,” Wade said, a little too cheerfully.

Logan growled under his breath. “No shoving heads in machines. We’re here to talk.”

Wade gasped dramatically. “Talk? Logan, we didn’t come all the way here to talk. Have you met us?”

Logan sighed. “You’re not gonna make this easy, are you?”

“Never,” Wade replied, clearly thrilled about the potential chaos.

Logan gave him a side glance. “Just let me handle it.”

Inside, your boss—a middle-aged man with thinning hair and an arrogant air—was sitting at his desk, tapping away at his computer when the door burst open, the bell jingling violently. He looked up, startled, only to see Logan and Wade storming in like two very intimidating storm clouds.

“Uh, can I help you—”

Logan stepped forward, leaning on the man’s desk, his presence radiating danger. “You’re the one who’s been makin’ her life a living hell, right?”

Your boss swallowed hard, his eyes flicking nervously between Logan's intense stare and Wade’s unsettlingly enthusiastic grin. He tried to maintain some semblance of composure, though his voice wavered. “I’m… sorry? Who are you talking about?”

Logan leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a growl. “You know exactly who. The one you’ve been botherin’ all week. You’re gonna stop.”

The boss blinked, sweat already starting to form on his brow. “Listen, if you’ve got a problem, there are proper channels—”

Wade, who had been pacing behind Logan like an impatient child, suddenly slammed his hands down on the desk, making the man jump. “Oh, we’re past proper channels, buddy. See, we’re the 'hands-on' approach. You ever watch John Wick? Think of us like that, but with more sarcasm.” Wade flashed a grin that was more menacing than reassuring. “Y’know, I’ve got so many ways we could handle this. My personal favorite? Something involving a very, very tight stapler and a completely unrelated office supply.”

Logan shot him a glance, silently telling Wade to dial it back. Wade just winked, enjoying himself far too much.

The boss stammered, scrambling for words, his hands now trembling slightly. “I-I didn’t mean to upset anyone. If there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“No misunderstanding,” Logan interrupted, his voice calm but filled with a quiet, deadly promise. “You’ve been makin’ life harder than it needs to be. That ends now. You leave her alone, or you’re gonna wish you had.”

The room went deathly quiet. Logan’s words hung in the air, and though his tone was controlled, the weight behind it made it clear—he wasn’t making a request.

Your boss nodded vigorously, too scared to say much else. “Of course. I’ll… I’ll make sure there’s no more trouble. I didn’t realize…”

Logan stood up straight, stepping back and letting the tension between them settle. “Good. ‘Cause if I hear otherwise, we’ll be back. And I guarantee next time, talkin’ won’t be on the table.”

Wade patted the boss on the shoulder as they turned to leave. “See? Easy peasy. Now, don’t make me come back and introduce you to my friend Mr. Duct Tape, okay?”

The boss just nodded, wide-eyed, watching them until they were out of sight.

Outside, Wade was practically skipping with glee. “Did you see his face? I think he aged ten years in the last five minutes! Man, that was fun.”

Logan rolled his eyes but smirked slightly. “I’d rather not come back.”

Wade shrugged. “Eh, we’ll see. If he so much as frowns in their direction again, he’s getting the full Deadpool experience.”

Logan let out a low grunt. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

As they walked away from your workplace, Wade threw an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Y’know, Wolvie, I gotta say… we make a hell of a team. You with the menacing silence, me with the witty banter? That guy didn’t stand a chance.”

Logan shoved Wade’s arm off, giving him a side-eye. “Just don’t get used to it.”

Back at the apartment, you were curled up on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone, when the door swung open. Logan walked in first, followed by Wade, who was humming some kind of victory tune.

You glanced up at them, feeling a bit more refreshed after the night of rest. “Where have you guys been?”

Logan shrugged, moving into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. “Had to handle somethin’.”

Wade, on the other hand, wasted no time flopping down beside you, his arm slung around your shoulders. “Oh, you know, just a quick errand. Nothing major. But let’s just say that your boss? Yeah, he’s gonna be a lot more… accommodating from now on.”

You blinked, staring at Wade in confusion. “What did you guys do?”

Logan took a swig of his beer, his expression neutral. “Had a little chat. Straightened some things out.”

Wade grinned like the cat that ate the canary. “Oh, yeah. It was glorious. There was sweating, stammering, a little bit of—”

“Wade,” Logan interrupted, shooting him a look.

Wade huffed dramatically but didn’t elaborate. Instead, he gave you a reassuring squeeze. “Point is, you don’t need to worry about that jerk anymore. He’s gonna be on his best behavior. And if he’s not, well…” Wade’s grin widened. “He won’t be for long.”

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of shock and gratitude. “You… You didn’t have to do that.”

Logan came over, standing behind the couch, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Yeah, we did. You don’t deserve to deal with that crap.”

“Exactly,” Wade chimed in. “And if anyone makes you feel like that again, well… we’ve got plenty of time for ‘errands.’”

You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Sure, Logan and Wade had their differences, and Wade was a whole different level of unpredictable, but they both cared about you fiercely. It wasn’t just words with them—it was action, and you appreciated it more than you could say.

“Thanks, guys,” you said quietly, looking between the two of them.

Logan gave you a nod, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently. “Anytime.”

Wade grinned and reached for the remote. “Alright, now that we’ve saved the day, I vote we celebrate with some violent cartoons and an unhealthy amount of snacks.”

You smiled, settling back into the couch. Despite the chaos, you knew one thing for certain: with Logan and Wade in your corner, there wasn’t anything—or anyone—that could get to you. And that was a comfort you didn’t take lightly.

As Wade flicked through the channels, Logan sat beside you, his hand resting on your knee. You leaned into him, feeling safe, protected. The weight of the world wasn’t so heavy anymore—not when you had these two looking out for you.

And as the opening credits of Shrek 2 rolled across the screen, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, things were going to be okay after all.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes @welcometochilis585

If you want to be added to the tag list for Logan content, let me know! 🫶

#logan howlett x reader #wade wilson x reader #logan howlett fluff #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman #wolverine x reader #deadpool x reader

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mogamuncher · 2 months ago

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Heeey I'm back! It's finally time for the full Cakeverse analysis gang!

Ok, so, for a refresher:

There's the Forks, the Cakes and the Plates (normal people), and it goes like this:

Plates are just normal people, the majority of the world population, nothing new here.

Forks: Can't taste and sometimes can't smell either, sometimes they used be able to taste but lost it with age; either way, they can only ever taste cakes.

Cakes: Basically normal people except that they're delicious, everything from them (flesh, tears, saliva, etc) tastes like cake (or other foods if you want). You can't tell who's a cake or not unless you're a Fork that's tasting them in some way.

Now, I have to add some stuff that's really interesting and that the og author said, that we'll be getting into today.

• Forks go absolutely bat shit insane when they taste the Cakes most of the time, that can lead to a lot of things, cannibalism, sex, or (if you're cultured) both.

• Both Cakes and Forks suffer from their own societal plights. Cakes die a lot, and Forks when discovered are instantly pinned as murderers, criminals and perverts, even if they haven't done anything wrong yet.

• Cakes can derail a Fork's entire life, and Forks are like sin and temptation to Cakes.

Now, I want to talk about these because they absolutely fucking vexed me and now I want to make this all of y'all's problem.

「The First Taste」

It's essentially a common rule as said by the author that the Forks go insane after feeling the taste of a Cake, now, let's talk about: Why?

See, Cakeverse is technically an Au based from the likes of Omegaverse, which you can see by the structure being similar to Alpha/Beta/Omega with the three types of people out there. But, in ABO the Alphas going insane is due to a specific event, heats, which are there specifically for reproduction and are said to bring out animal instincts out of people's control, while Forks are based on simply taste, food, and not something as biological.

Of course it's up to the individual writer to an extent, but my interpretation of why Forks lose it when they taste Cakes is more psychological when compared to Alphas in the Omegaverse.

Imagine that you are completely unable to see color, never once have you seen one, you grew up hearing all about how wonderful colors are, you saw others compliment the colors of several works of art, you heard all about the colors of the world around you, but all that you see is beige and grey. Now, imagine that one day you bump into someone, and suddenly you're able to see all the colors, for the first time ever in your life, you can finally experience blue skies and green grass, you can see the same way the rest of the world sees, something that was fundamentally missing from you is finally gifted to you by this stranger on a silver tray.

You're finally complete.

That's the reality of what Forks go through, years of eating tasteless food, seeing people enjoy food wholeheartedly and rant about the tastes, hearing about the differences between expensive food and cheap food, and then suddenly finally tasting cake. Of course they go insane and fixate on it, it's like the final puzzle piece finally sliding into place, something that they've been missing this whole time being manifested with only a taste.

Before, eating was a chore, something simply to survive there was no joy in it, no fun to be found in desserts or snacks, but with only a single kiss the Fork finally feels what it is like to crave food, to want food for the taste.

Cakeverse in nature is oddly psychological, playing with the concept of taking away something extremely core to the human experience, taste. It's inherent and everyone has it, you'd probably feel like a freak of nature if you didn't have something while everyone else has, right?

That's what Cakes bring Forks; normalcy, joy and purpose, it's basically like a shot of endorphins all at once straight into your bloodstream, there's a good chance it'd hit like a truck and fuck you up majorly.

Forks acting rashly probably looks different than when Alphas do the same, because the motive is inherently different, but the desperation is arguably more raw.

A lot can be written on what that reaction would be:

Immediately trying to taste the Cake (kissing, licking, biting), trying to play cool only to strike later (potential kidnapping, manipulation, planning and scheming in general), the Fork can try to resist temptation or maybe the Cake can notice the extreme reaction and run away, maybe the Cake can instigate and bait the Fork to take a bite.

It could lead to fluff, to relationships starting, relationships ending, it could smut, it could be gory cannibalism, hell, it could be both.

Either way, the sheer amount of character study that could be made out of this tidbit alone is insane, and the story concepts don't stop there!

「We Do, In Fact, Live In a Society」

Cakes don't know who they are until it's too late, but I can imagine that in society they'd be treated with a lot of extra care if they are known beforehand, as they are constantly in risk of dying.

Imagine that they'd also be majorly babyfied, the "nooo poor babies that can't do anything wrong, poor helpless and weak Cakes, they clearly can't take care of themselves, they're so vulnerable, don't worry I'll speak for you to protect your honor" would be insane. Any Cake that consensually and willingly gets with a Fork will be doubted if they truly wanted to do it, think nosy people pulling them aside to ask if they're ok and pressing to see if they're abused, think people immediately thinking that Cakes can't consent to anything with a Fork on principle despite them being grown adults.

Online discourse would definitely have people saying "Cakes are minor coded" or some shit, mark my words.

While Forks would be instantly persecuted for everything. Because of something they didn't choose, that was inherited at birth, they now are fully seem as murderers, kidnappers, rapists and just the lowest of the low. People will gossip, people will get defensive, people will cower any time you slightly raise your voice, you're seen as a predator, treated no different than a wild bear. To society at large, you're an unruly dog, and all eyes will be on you forever, watching, waiting for the day that you take a bite.

In a sense, it's almost like any Forks that do commit crimes instantly have a justification to do so, it's expected, really, you're a Fork, of course you'd snap one day. It's both maligned and normalized, everyone expects it and it almost gives Forks a reason to do so. Forever a self fulfilling prophecy.

Now I'm sorry that I'll keep bringing the Omegaverse up, it's just that it's really handy for comparison, but I find it fascinating that in a way, the societal effects of this are a mish mesh of the societal views seen in ABO, but like, in a way that doesn't make me want to vomit.

Can I be so fr with you guys right now? I don't like the societal parts of the Omegaverse, ever since I was a kid in the early hay days of the internet, that always made me uncomfortable, and it's also a bit lazy in a way. The problems in society with the Omegaverse are basically just Sexism, it's misogyny with mpreg, and a lot of fics end up feeling like a Handmaiden's Tale with mpreg. Replace Alphas with men and Omegas with Women and you get the Omegaverse, though it gets a bit interesting since there technically is a built-in "fuck or die" and aphrodisiac system with heats/ruts, but very few writers do something interesting with it.

My problem is that it's always either uncomfortable or outright boring, very little fics do it well and most of the time authors simply choose to side step it altogether, which I completely understand and actually prefer at this point.

I bring all this up because Cakeverse actually brings a lot of interesting concepts up in it's consequences on the world at large, the nature of Forks and Cakes mirrors a lot of real life concepts, but leaves enough fantastical elements that there's still intrigue in what could be explored and seem from authors writing certain details of it.

Would there be Cake support groups? Would there be Fork rights activists? Would there be people who are both Forks and Cakes, like a hybrid type? What are different relationship types seen as in the eyes of society as a whole?

It's all so complicated and the problems are different between the both of them, also, they're evenly split, which is a breath of fresh air.

Now, it's time to get even deeper into this, what are exactly Forks and Cakes relationship with each other like?

「Would You Still Love Me If I Was Cake?」

According to the author, Cakes can derail a Fork's life and Forks are temptation to Cakes. Now, why is that?

Imagine you're a Fork, living your life trying to do what you can with what's been handed to you, probably being discriminated against if you haven't been able to hide it well, when suddenly you taste someone (kiss or by accident, like a shared water bottle), and next thing you know you lose your mind. Your entire world falls apart, thoughts of dreams, future, your own sense of morality, it all melts away like sugar in water because you just experienced heaven and now it's all you can think about.

Someone completely normal beforehand, suddenly driven to obsession with just one moment, an entire life detailed into the unknown because they just had a taste of cake, thoughts being all about one person and their taste, the inability to stop even you're desperate to do so. It's madness, and almost like a tragedy, doomed by their own personal narrative of Fork meets Cake, the Forks turns into a starving beast whether they want to or not.

But Cakes? Imagine you have someone you love, and they want you so badly it drives them mad, imagine kissing the same lips that want to be stained with your taste, imagine putting yourself in the way of jaws that any of these days can close down on you and swallow you whole. You're constantly in contact with someone that could just straight up eat you, consume you whole and leave nothing behind, but your heart aches for them, you present yourself in a silver platter again and again.

Maybe you want to be eaten, to be consumed. Maybe you like being wanted, maybe you enjoy providing something to to others, you made them so happy that it doesn't even matter to you that they are taking chunks out of you, you'll gladly let yourself be torn apart if it means someone else is satisfied.

It's all about the usage of "Cannibalism as a Metaphor for Love™", it's all about loving someone but constantly wanting to eat them into non-existence, it's about to struggle between your brain heart and stomach.

It's about having your cake and eating it too.

The themes, the metaphors, the opportunities are endless and frankly I'm driving myself insane just imagining all of it, the angst also would be utterly fucking insane, imagine you live someone and you eat them, wouldn't you be upset? You loved them and you killed them yourself, with your own hands, their taste is on your lips and you licked your plate clean.

I'm screaming and crying and throwing up as we speak, the number of things you can do here are endless, soooo. . . Let's talk about some of my ideas!

「All My Fanfiction Titles Are Just Songs」

Last post I basically tagged a bunch of fandoms that I wish would use this trope (I'll also be doing that with this post), so now I'm going to showing some of the ideas I had for this AU that I might or might not write in the future, all of which you guys are totally free to use as prompts as well (just tag me on them lmao)

So, going ship by ship:

「Loveit」: Dead Plate fanfic, Vincent x Rody, Fork!Vincent and Cake!Rody. I imagine that the moment Vincent finds out is during the Best Served Hot ending, after biting Rody's ear, his reaction would show instantly on his face and Rody would notice right away. After that it can lead to a lot of things, fighting, smut and cannibalism galore, their relationship would only get more complicated after such a discovery. Hell, you can even have Vincent find out earlier, if you truly want more juicy drama, maybe Vincent will attempt to make Rody into the meal instead of Mason this time? For funsies you could even reverse it, Rody as a Fork would be fascinating to see, him bonding with Vincent that he also can't taste anything, only for him to find out later that he can taste Vincent himself, holy shit the intrigue.

「Eat You」: Death Note, Lawlight, Fork!Light and Cake!L. Imagine Light both having to hide the fact that he's Kira, but also having to hide the fact that he's a Fork, imagine the never leaving stain that being a Fork would be on his own self-perception of perfection, imagine the so called god that punishes criminals also being considered a criminal by default in society's eyes if he's ever found out. Kira selling out his own kind because most criminals would likely be Forks (whether they were rightfully convicted or not), and then comes in L, a detective, a nuisance, Light's equal and a Cake. Maybe Light would find that out later on, maybe while they're playing as friends in college or while chained together, and now L had effortlessly thrown another wrench in his life yet again by default, like they're meant to be opposed by fate itself, where Kira is a Fork L is a Cake. L would likely goad Light on, trying to bait Kira out, by any means necessary, even if it means being eaten.

「Eat You Piece by Piece」: Hear me out, Batjokes. Fork!Bruce having to hold himself back from breaking his own morals due to finding out Joker is a Cake, Fork!Joker only getting deeper into his Batman obsession after tasting a Cake!Batman, Both Forks bonded by not having taste, maybe both are Forks that differ on how they react to Cakes (Joker regularly eating them while Bruce retains his morals and chooses to not hurt them), maybe both Cakes that got here because they were almost eaten (different Batman and Joker origin stories?). The opportunities are all intriguing and promptly end in bloodshed, expect angst and discussions of what is moral, also just so much angst holy shit this shit hurts.

「I Eat Boys Up」: Dungeon Meshi, Labru, Fork!Laios and Cake!Labru. I'm thinking post canon by accident, maybe something like sharing utensils, and I'm going to be so fr with you right now, this story coming from me would be a lot of romanticism through food metaphors and unending smut, feral Laios is my equivalent of heroin and I could imagine him describing Kabru's taste in detail to him while eating him out. But if smut isn't your jam, exploring how Laios and his monster obsession, especially in the form of food, as someone who can't taste would be intriguing, in a story so closely tied to food, you have to wonder how it would all change if the main character couldn't even taste. Also, I doubt Kabru would take the knowledge of him being essentially prey well, so there's that bag of worms to go into if you want.

「Blame Gluttony」: This one is purely self indulgent but like, Re:Zero with any ship, Cake! Subaru and Fork!anyone else. Imagine Subaru's world doesn't have this Cakeverse nonsense at all, but the world he's transported to has, imagine how scary it would be that one loop he suddenly finds out that he's essentially universal prey here (maybe in the second loop with Elsa), imagine the weight of all the things that already are trying to kill him along with the fact that he's also got a new thing to worry about? Maybe instead of just the rabbit loop, there's now multiple loops where Subaru is eaten alive, maybe there's loops where his dear friends themselves are eating him. Can you imagine if Emilia was a Fork? If he found out after the kiss of death and she commented on the taste of his lips as he was dying, if it came up again after their kiss, Subaru having to tackle with his love and heart belonging to someone that would one day eat him whole. Imagine the witch not longer just wants to touch his heart or kiss him, but she also bites him when he tries to tell the secret. Imagine maybe Rem is also a Fork, imagine that his death by her hands also involved her tearing into him chunk by chunk. What if Otto was a Fork, what if Reinhard was one? Seriously all the opportunities are equally traumatizing and I'm living for it!

Honorable mentions include: Persona Shuake and Shuada (Fork!Protags and Cake!Detectives) for the optimal mutual murder extravaganza, Okegom DSP Satanivlis (Fork!Ivlis and Cake!Satanick) for a rare case of role swapping, South Park Kyman (any way works tbh) for mutually assured destruction, Slay the Princess (Fork!Princess and Cake!Birb) because themes, Soukouku (Fork!Dazai and Cake!Chuuya) for making canon even worse than it already is, frankly any investigrave game would be peak here, Hannigram for obvious reasons.

But that's all I have for now, so, what have we learned here?

We learned that: I'm mentally ill and you need to write about the Cakeverse NOW.

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