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Rundown of the more interesting parts from the Necrits live stream with Christian Linke (Creative Director and Co-Creator of Arcane) :
There was a longer version of the Caitvi sex scene but they got bonked by the ratings people, and because it would have raised Leagues rating to mature, it got brought down to what we got.
The entire Caitvi sex scene was directed and animated by Fortiche with zero input by Riot. Christian says, "That was French people being French."
Riot making Arcane canon didn't change where they were taking characters or the story, it just made them more aware of how it would affect other Riot projects.
Christian refused to confirm exactly when the events of Arcane take place in the existing timeline.
The Arcane doesn't originate from Hextech. It is just one - in universe - interpretation of magic.
Christian doesn't view Viktor and Jayce's love as romantic, and that romance wasn't the intention when writing their relationship. However, by the way he talks, it doesn't seem he's against people shipping them romantically - just as a creative team, they were more interested in exploring a close, complex male friendship / brotherhood.
The 250-million dollar show budget number is not accurate as marketing is included in that fund. Fortiche's goal from the beginning was to bring the level of animation found in feature animated films to serialised content. While the show was very expensive for an animated series, it was way cheaper than an animated feature film because they try and work efficiently. As an example, Christian says how often in Hollywood, it's not uncommon for sometimes 40-50% of what is animated to end up on the cutting room floor while with Fortiche they try and keep it around 5%
Ekko's hair was changed from a mohawk to dreads because the artist who worked on him told them that black hair doesn't work like that (in reference to the mohwak), and here's how it would actually work.
Legends of Runterra affected Arcane in terms of giving the team inspiration for how the everyday street life is for people in the regions.
Caitlyn's LOR Tactical design (2021) and Warwicks VGU Voicelines (2017) were made to reflect what was going to happen in Arcane - production of Arcane just took a long amount of time.
They've said from the beginning that the only person who could ever defeat Viktor at the height of his power was Viktor himself. His story is about the glorious evolution, the pursuit of that, and what it actually means to remove these human elements until there is nothing left.
All projects Riot is working on - whether the MMO, Games, Written or Animated projects - are in talks with one another at all times.
Christian comments on how very few games have remain in service as long as League has, and because of its ever growing and evolving story, it's hard to bring everything together cohesively since everything was made at different times, in different era's, by a multitude of different people. So, while many things may be very cool creatively, it makes it impossible to successfully bring it all together more often than not. So for new projects, they are more focused on making something good and successful with the team and talent they have, even if it retcons or replaces content made in the past.
Christian pitched singing Heimerdinger.
Arcane's scripts for S2 were locked in before S1 was released, so they were not impacted by fandoms or online reactions. Christian thinks maybe some animation choices were influenced by things the animators saw online, but not the story.
When watching the premier of the final arcane episodes in LA - the entire 4000 seat theatre cheered when Maddie died.
The butterfly motif shared between Jayce and Viktor specifically was used to represent transformation.
Christian talked about how they don't think about really whether people will like something or not, but whether it's the right consequence for the story (this is in discussion to Caitlyn losing an eye). What makes a character likeable to an audience in his eyes is their decisions in the story; the choices that they make.
Continuing on from this, he comments on how the choices Caitlyn makes now are so different now compared to the beginning of the show. She is now willing to take risks and sacrifice parts of herself for people, for Piltover and for what is right.
When asked about Caitlyn's signature hat, Christian says that the team saw it as somthing that didn't really fit this version of Caitlyn they were writing and the person she becomes and that's why it was never incorporated into her designs.
Back in the beginning, when they were first working on Arcane, Christian would constantly going back to Jinx and Vi's original design artists & Riot August who was their champion designer to make sure they weren't messing anything up with these characters.
Christian goes on to tell an anecdote of when Paul 'Zeronis' Kwon was drawing the first concepts for Vi. This was back when Christian was in music. She didn't have a name at the time, but when Christian looked over Paul's shoulder at the art, he comments "she kinda looks like a Violet to me." They never spoke about it, but months later, when she became a serious character concept internally, she was gifted the name Vi. To this day, Christian doesn't know if his comment resulted in her name or if it was just a coincidence, but Violet became stuck in Christian's brain as Vi's true name. Riot August (who was in chat) then confirms that her name came from her tattoo, which came from one of her key design elements, being that she had the number 6 on her face. So, just a happy coincidence.
Talking about the tattoo. The tattoo was shrunken in size so, from a distance, it would look more like a beauty mark and the brain can more easily disregard it. One of the many things that they had to think about when translating the designs over as, is animation, you would be looking at a characters face a lot more than you do in league where the camera is situated top down.
As they were wrapping up the stream, Christian talks about how there always needs to be a bit of space between what content creators / content consumers do (pointing at Necrit) and what Riot does. He thinks it's good that there is space for criticism and a critical view of the things Riot does. In order to succeed, he believes they need to listen to their audience but also that they need to have their own vision, take risks, and be bold. It's a delicate balance in his eyes, and projects tend to fail when these two sides are too in cahoots.
He iterates that they are not trying to shove anything down anyone's throats. They are just trying to find what makes these characters cool, tell their stories, and be true to the regions they come from. With taking the characters from League to Arcane, it was important that they translate these stories and characters so they can hold up with the best storytelling in the world.
This circles back to the earlier point about retconning things and replacing past stories and content. He comments on how some characters are very outdated or too archetypal, but they still have an essence that people love about them.
Arcane was something Christian worked on for 9 years, and he was getting clearly emotional near the end. He also adds they're just getting started and he wants to make sure they do a good job with this IP and the characters we really love.
To those who are not happy with certain decisions, he's sorry they didn't hit what you personally wanted, but there is simply no way they can please everybody. While they are trying to make as many of the Riot / Arcane audience happy, they as the creators and artists need to follow their own compass, be the shepherds of this IP; that being creative is hard. They will keep doing that even if they sometimes have to ruffle some feathers.
He closes the stream by confirming that they are investing quite a bit in Noxas, Ionia, and Demacia for the next regions they explore.
#had fun writing this out#made me actually watch the entire live stream and pay attention#league of legends#arcane#caitvi#jayvik#ekko arcane#warwick#caitlyn kiramman#jinx#vi#arcane vi#ekko#caitlyn#legends of runeterra#arcane jinx#arcane caitlyn
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Overworked and Underpaid - Franco Colapinto x PR! Reader
Summary: When Logan leaves Williams, youâre assigned as Francoâs PR handler. Except nobody warned you that he hadnât been trained yetÂ
Warnings: Fluff. Angst if you squint, Franco is sad at one point
Requested: No but the people did want Franco and PR
F1 Masterlist
The original title was going to be With A Yap Yap HereÂ
ââââ àŒ»đ„žàŒș ââââ
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williamsracing breaking news franco colapinto to race for the remainder of the season
13,893 comments
francolapinto i am very excited for this opportunityÂ
â user1 he seems so polite, bless him
â user2 donât be fooledÂ
user3 praying for yn because she used to have the easiest driver to manage and now she has franco
â user4 thatâs if she gets assigned to him. she may not get to work with him
â user3 why wouldnât she???
â user5 williams better not take away ynâs job and loganâsÂ
user6 has anyone heard from yn since the news dropped? her and logan were actual besties, not just work bestiesÂ
â user7 she always talked about how much she loved working with him so sheâs def gonna miss him
â user8 what if she leaves with him???
â user9 she didnât even like the williams goodbye post. sheâs pissed so itâs a real possibilityÂ
yn_ln welcome to the team
â user10 this was so dry for her
â user11 i think sheâs processing and doesnât want to seem rude. give the girl a break
ââââ àŒ»đ„žàŒș ââââ
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williamsracing a day youâll never forget. welcome to your first grand prix @/francolapinto
7,337 comments
user1 omg heâs such a cutieÂ
user2 his excitement all weekend has been so refreshingÂ
user3 chat, whatâs your favourite thing about monza gp this year? and why is it yn chasing franco around the paddock with a look of exasperation the entire time?Â
â user4 she has been working overtime this weekend
â user5 itâs the way sky sports always know to zoom in on her when franco is talking
user6 the fact that we havenât even had the race yet and yn has had to cut two interviews short and say many times âhe didnât mean thatâÂ
francolapinto today will definitely be going on my list of top 3 unforgettable first times
â user7 omg can he say that?
â user8 i wanna know what the 2nd thing is??Â
â yn_ln @/williamsracing i need a raise
ââââ àŒ»đ„žàŒș ââââ
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yn_ln hello cota. a weekend for cowboy hats, cheerleaders and my attempt to replace williamsâ photographer
5,099 comments
alex_albon youâve never taken a good photo of me
â francolapinto because sheâs not your media manager
user9 chat, are they healing? are they becoming friends?
â user10 i actually saw her smile at him today after weeks of her scowling at him!Â
williamsracing all our cota favourites rolled into oneÂ
user11 okay but she took the most boyfriend coded picture of him
williamsphotographer gonna put me out of a job. i donât think iâve ever taken a photo that good before
â yn_ln what can i say? i excel at everything
user12 why did no one tell me francoâs pr handler was so cute?
user13 i could see her and franco together
user14 canât believe youâre betraying logan so easilyÂ
user15 the fact that logan liked this, which means heâs seen her so quickly forget about himÂ
user16 you used to pretend to be loganâs friend and now youâve so easily run off with his replacement?Â
(comments have been turned off)
yn_ln posted a new story
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yn_ln enjoying a break from work-mandated media and yapping drivers by posting vacation picsÂ
6,633 comments
francolapinto i thought you found my yapping fun đ
â yn_ln uh, since when?
â francolapinto i have proof!Â
â yn_ln donât you dare
â user1 i have to admit, i am loving their banter more than yn glaring at him
user2 wait, she has a boyfriend? there go my franco/yn dreams
â user3 unless, hear me out. the guy is franco
â user4 nurse, she escaped again
williamsracing but we miss you?
â yn_ln youâre the reason i needed a break
â williamsracing i thought that was francoâs fault?Â
â yn_ln admin, this wouldnât be a pr approved comment
user5 why do they hide yn behind franco because she is stunning
user6 tbf, if i had to look at yn all day, iâd forget all social filters
â user7 somebody free my man franco. heâs being blamed for his words when itâs ynâs fault for being so stunning liked by franco_colapinto
â user7 omg guys, franco liked my comment
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francolapinto pr so good that we had to get hr involved
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yn_ln franco! these are not the photos we agreed upon!Â
â francolapinto itâs not my fault your ass is irresistibleÂ
â yn_ln now my ass is off limits. james just messaged me to say we have to sit through yet another pr/hr meetingÂ
user8 okay but these photos are kinda hotÂ
logansargeant my favourite pr nightmare coupleÂ
â yn_ln iâm not the nightmare! iâm the pr
â francolapinto iâm the nightmare :)
â user9 i hope you bitches that sent hate to yn for being francoâs friend feel bad now because logan has clearly supported this from day 1
user10 i knew boyfriend franco would provide us with good content and i was right
â user11 these the kind of pics we need the others to post
â user12 yes! like show some appreciation for the woman hotter than you that gave you a chanceÂ
williamsracing weâre confused. who are we supposed to report franco to now for pr violations?Â
â alex_albon i tried to complain about him twerking in the garage yesterday and she just smiled dopily at his name
â yn_ln i did not! i am a sensible girl
â francolapinto haha sensible. you looooove me
ââââ àŒ»đ„žàŒș ââââ
requests open. you can find who i write for on my masterlist
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Oh man I have ideas..
Sevika has a home back in Zaun but she has to have an apartment in Piltover because of councilor duties until she fully adjusts to topside and accepts the insistent offers of a manor. Imagine being her wife and just helping her relax after her first day, cuddling and all that whilst adjusting to the fancy apartment bigger than your old house.
Or..
Sevika taking her wife out for a walk in Piltover, admiring more of the garden as the plants grow upon new soil. A talk about the future whilst holding hands.
Or..
Them renewing their vows, having that damn fancy wedding of the dreams.
Toodles!!!
EEEEEEEEK okay lets do some councilor sevika (also isha and jinx are still alive in this story because i said so. she doesn't need to suffer so much to still be an incredible leader. give her her girls!!!)
men and minors dni
you were the first person approached about sevika representing zaun in piltover's new council post-war.
you were a little concerned to find councilwoman shoola and three members of her personal guard on your front stoop-- and for just a moment you had a flash of anxiety that she was here looking for jinx or isha.
"councilwoman. hello." you say, still surprised. you've met the woman a few times before, both of you attending various re-building efforts around the undercity. she holds up a hand.
"please, dear, we've built a bookshelf together, you've seen me at my lowest. you can call me shoola."
"h-how can i help you counc-- shoola?" you ask. she smiles.
"i'm here regarding your wife."
you frown. "...is she in some kind of trouble?" you ask, already mentally planning how to worm sevika out of her trouble. the councilwoman chuckles.
"quite the opposite, actually. i'd like her to join the council... as an ambassador to the free nation of zaun." she says.
you nearly shit yourself at her words-- sevika's life work casually mentioned like it's just a sidenote. "the-- free?" you ask.
she smiles. "while the deaths of the other councilmembers in the war was a horrible loss, there are some issues i could never get my late colleagues to agree on. now, though... i've been given full authority to reorient the power structure of the council to avoid anymore kirraman's taking over-- and i've always been of the belief that zaun should be free."
"and w-what... you want to arrest jinx in exchange for it?" you ask.
shoola chuckles. "no."
"y-you want isha?" you ask. shoola laughs again.
"what could i want with a child? no!"
"so... what do you want?" you ask, your voice shaking as the reality of the situation sinks in.
"i just want your help talking sevika into the job. i know she can be... stubbo--?"
"bullheaded?" you guess as shoola searches for a kind word to describe sevika's stubbornness. she chuckles at your description of your wife and nods.
"here." she hands you a stack of papers. "i've outlined the full responsibilities of the job. as well as the benefits she will receive for serving. please. look it over and talk to her, would you?"
you do.
it's an excellent proposal.
as the undercity figures out how it wants to self govern, piltover will fund zaun's public infrastructure as if it's their own-- meaning that the undercity will, practically overnight, have access to things like clean water. and schools. and welfare. they will provide these services for up to fifteen years as zaun finds it's footing.
the position outlined for sevika in piltover's council is a way to assure piltover doesn't back out of their promises-- that somebody is there to call them out when they try to cut corners in helping the young nation of zaun find it's footing.
and, while your wife might miss the more physical aspects of her old work, you can see her chewing out some stingy old councilors for their greed in your minds eye, and you can't help but smile.
"what're you smilin' about?" sevika asks.
you jump and slam the folder in front of you closed, blinking up at your wife.
she's back from her meeting with ran, scar and jericho. the four of them have grown close in these past few months as they coordinate rebuilding efforts for various neighborhoods across zaun. you have to gulp, trying not to get dizzy with the possibilities of what sevika's job offer means for them as a team. as team zaun.
"h-how was your meeting?" you ask. sevika raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you and you huff. she sinks across the table from you, easily pulling the folder out of your grasp.
"meeting was fine. the elementary school bein' built in firelight's territory is almost ready to open. first school in zaun." she says with a smile. "now, what were you smiling at?"
"i was approached by councilwoman shoola this afternoon."
sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "did you two try to build a chair this time?" she teases. you groan and kick her shin, before tapping the folder in her hands.
"no. i was asked to convince my stubborn-ass, incredibly loyal, strong, beautiful, hard-fucking-headed wife to join the fucking council."
sevika blinks. "what?"
"they want you in the new council. serving as an ambassador. to the free nation of zaun, sevika."
sevika blinks again, and then she rips the file open, her silver eyes flying across the confidential text. "the fr-- the free nation of zaun?" she asks, her eyes flying up to yours to confirm. you grin and nod.
sevika flies out of her seat and crawls across the dining room table to reach you, tears flowing down her cheeks as she kisses you like her life depends on it.
you're there when shoola and sevika finally sit down to discuss the opportunity. shoola's the first piltoverian to not turn her nose up at the messy state of your small home-- she even grins at the sound of jinx and isha bickering from their bedroom. "you two have made a lovely home for yourselves, here." she says, sitting down at the table and jumping a bit when a toy squeaks under her bum. "i can almost see the love leaking out of the wallpaper."
"could be black mold." you whisper. sevika and shoola both sputter surprised laughs.
"sevika. have you considered my proposal?" shoola asks.
sevika sighs and nods. "i have a few conditions before i agree." she says.
this surprises you. as if the prospect of representing a free zaun isn't tempting enough, you saw the salary sevika's being offered. it's the kind of money that could buy you a house big enough that all four of you could have your own bathrooms.
(secretly, though, you hope you live in a tiny house forever. you like tripping over your family-- being within reaching distance at all times.)
"first. i'd like you to assign me the budget to employ three of my trusted confidants as advisors. i can give you their identities if you'd like, but i give you my word that they're good peo--"
"done." shoola cuts sevika off, scribbling a quick note in her journal before looking back up at the pair of you with a smile. "what else?" she asks.
you smile a bit. sevika blinks, then gulps. "jinx and her little friend ekko get a full ride to the university up top. they're incredibly gifted, and with a little proper education they could advance zaun--"
"you don't have to convince me, i remember how the war went. without them, we'd all be dead. i can arrange that."
"i don't want to leave zaun. i can't represent these people if i'm not living here. i'll need a car to get--"
"would you like a personal vehicle or a driver each morning and evening?" shoola asks.
sevika blinks. "a-a driver." she says, a little shocked.
"anything else?" shoola asks.
sevika nods. "o-one last thing." she reaches over to grab your hand. you have no idea what she could possibly want beyond what she's asked for-- she's taken care of her friends, her family, and her transport.
"anything." shoola says. you think the woman might mean it.
sevika looks down at her lap and sighs. "we... we never really got married." she says. you blink, not at all understanding why she's telling the councilwoman this. "i mean... we had a party and we exchanged vows," she says, a smile tugging at her lips. you squeeze her hand and her eyes flick up to yours, before shyly darting away like you guys haven't been married for a decade now. like you guys don't have two kids together. "but we never... nobody gets married in zaun. 's expensive. the trip up to the justice is too far. and..." sevika gulps, her voice getting shaky as she looks back up at you. "and you're the reason i've fought so hard for our home in the first place." she whispers.
tears start to well up in your eyes and you let out a shaky laugh. "what, 're you proposing to me again?" you ask. sevika snorts and shakes her head before turning to shoola. the woman's drying her own tears.
"will you arrange to have us married? officially?"
"i'd be honored." shoola agrees.
the wedding is small and intimate, you and sevika, jinx and isha, vi, ran, scar, jericho, and shoola.
the councilwoman took you to a beautiful little garden a few blocks away from the council, and she married you, officially, as the sun set and your girls threw handfuls of confetti into the sky.
your whole party marches through the streets of piltover and back to zaun for the afterparty, councilwoman shoola laughing happily as you introduce her to the zaunite tradition of barcrawling.
each bar you enter, jericho happily announces that you and sevika have been freshly married. sevika, being the new spokeswoman of zaun, is quite the celebrity now. all of this is to say, you spend the night drinking many free drinks, hugging many drunk strangers, and kissing your wife on request about a thousand times.
it's the best night of your life.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed
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Oh boy okay I think my smallest / least known fave is Ambersun (formerly known as Albion, changed because of how many other bands have the same name), and I am begging everyone to listen to this band because seriously it is so good.
Summary: it's a power metal band which I think may be basically a one man show plus various guest vocalists I'm not sure, which does story-based concept albums based on different works of fiction. Possibly qualifies as Rock Operas? Anyway I love "fandom music" and this is one of my all time favorites even though two of the albums are for "I don't even go here" fandoms and the other is for a book I found through the music, because the sound is awesome, the lyrics are awesome, and you can just hear the passion put into them.
I'm now going to post a bunch of lyrics under the cut please please please listen to these songs. Actually just listen to the albums in order, this is one of those bands where the songs are already good as standalones but you really need to listen to the full album to get the full experience.
We are lost, in an endless night, the sun drained from our eyes
Gone, when we sold our lives to the plague that stole the sky
"Life Before Death," from The Poison Skies
Erased and they don't care, but you would still be here if only you'd stayed, been mine only mine
It's so unfair to leave me, the tribe I formed deceived me, but now I'll fight in your name
There's no way to hide from their stare,
I still feel their eyes everywhere
And the hatred that clouds all their minds, it hides the truth of it all
"Out In the Wilds" from The Poison Skies
The one to keep the noble name, to carry all their hopes and dreams, a future severed when one night became forever
"Run" from The Poison Skies. This. Freaking. Song. Has changed me. "Run" is a banger on its own, but reading The Afflicted and reaching the scene this song is about made it so much better and also slightly painful. Which can be said about the entirety of The Poison Skies but this song especially, because the entire song is a character high on adrenaline, deluding himself into believing he can actually pull off the promise he made to his friends that he was going to survive the badass self-sacrificing stunt he was pulling. Also I have no idea how I have not gotten a speeding ticket while playing this in the car yet.
Visions that I can't erase, every time I see her face,
She reminds me of how I never tried
Now I watch us as we fall, can't help anyone at all,
Why did I alone survive?
Survivor's Guilt!
"Survivor's Guilt" from The Poison Skies
This worthless weapon symbolizes who I am
Remaining silent, offer no resistance,
And I become the iron mask
"Disappear" from The Poison Skies
Survive one last dance through the wind and the cold,
We can't change our stories, but they still can be told
"Snow" from The Poison Skies
Sealed in cryogenic cold, I'll dive into the dark, reanimate your soul
Together we will rise up hand in hand this blackened night
"Morning" from The Day the Night Slept
I'll burn in the night, I'll light up the sky, you'll see,
And I'll be the Scorpion's Fire!
"The Scorpion's Fire" from The Day the Night Slept
Lost in the night, but still he survives
I'll tear apart time so his heart never dies
"Asriel Must Be Saved" from Buried Souls. Yes this is exactly what it sounds like from the title. A 15 minute musical fix fic about finding a way of saving Asriel Dreemur from Undertale with some sort of timeline fuckery I don't understand because I haven't played the game. And it's glorious.
Mighty wheels will turn again, flames of faith ignite
Chase the legend of the sun, and bathe our world in light
"Bring Back the Sun," currently a single release.
enough about taylor swift already. reblog and tag the smallest, least known artist you listen to
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Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything thatâs gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to âsubtlyâ change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all theyâve been through would be so healing :3 Itâs up to you which way you want to take it đđ Iâm fine with both platonic and romantic, but Iâd love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if thatâs ok :)
I love love love your writing, reading your HCâs before bed has become an important part of my day and itâs always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations đ I canât wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!
The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader
I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33
Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.
You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.
And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.
ăVI
"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.
It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.
Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.
Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.
She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.
"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."
You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.
ăJINX
"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.
Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.
"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.
"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?
"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.
"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"
Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.
ăCAITLYN
She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.
Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.
And this time she had finally succeeded.
Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.
"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.
"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.
You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."
You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.
Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.
A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane vi x you#arcane vi x reader#vi#vi x reader#arcane vi#arcane caitlyn x reader#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn#caitlyn kiramman#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx x reader#jinx x y/n#arcane x genderneutral reader
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Hi I have caught up to you on having feelings about Zhuzhi-Lang. He's a good boy! đ„ș Good snake boy! đ„ș I had the thought, after Zhuzhi let SQQ leave after SQQ yelled at him... what if they Stole Him. What if.
(Also have you read/been recommended anything by corduroyserpent yet? Big writer of Zhuzhi-Lang fics, including a very cute de-aged Zhuzhi-Lang and some zhushen)
Justifications of bride-stealing!
(AND HE'S THE BEST BOY đ I LOVE HIM SO MUCH, SO MUCH!! have some further au thoughts because this has contaminated my brain...)
What I think would actually happen if they stole SQQ? Absolutely nothing good for anyone, LBH would Lose His Fucking Mind xD as a more interesting answer though, I like the idea that Shen "Pedantic Nitpicky Asshole" Qingqiu's primary point of argument is that he is not a bride so he cannot be "bridenapped" regardless of demonic tradition or intention!
This eventually leads to them all completely avoiding the Maigu Ridge incident because TLJ realizes that, somehow, SQQ doesn't realize the depths of his son's feelings for him and decides to put all his efforts into being a wingman for his nephew instead because he finds the entire thing absolutely hilarious and rather satisfying after his own sad romance. Obviously someone like SQQ would do much better with his good, loyal nephew than the disappointing offspring of that disastrous relationship!
As for ZZL he just has to assume that LBH must not be treating SQQ anywhere near the way he should be (and like... he isn't wrong at this point, there is a non-zero amount of torture and terror going on here) if SQQ doesn't see himself as being tied to LBH in any way. And if he's not attached to LBH then there's absolutely no reason he shouldn't make his own efforts to seduce SQQ! After all, if LBH isn't valuing SQQ properly then obviously ZZL has to step up because someone as kind as SQQ deserves the best!!!
#svsss#zhushen#zhuzhi lang#tianlang jun#shen qingqiu#sqq#zzl#tlj#my art#if this is incoherent please pardon me orz the timeline is all jumbled up in my head i read this series way too fast#but this is the rabbit hole your ask sent me down#listen i love zhuzhi-lang SO much#he is SO good and also so stupid bless his scaly heart#and tianlang-jun does NOT help matters#i want to see their combined efforts to woo sqq away from lbh i think it'd be hilarious#...however considering this would take place before getting ride of xin mo i can't imagine things. uh. go well if dragged out too long#lbh is not in like a super duber place mentally at this point in the story#on the other hand can you imagine shang qinghua witnessing this and doing his ABSOLUTE best to nope out of that nightmare#LBH'S FATHER AND COUSIN ARE TRYING TO STEAL THE PERSON LBH'S DECIDED TO ROMANCE?? WHEN HAS THAT EVER WORKED OUT WELL IN PIDW????#KEEP SQH OUT OF IT!!!! (he's not going to be allowed to stay out of it)#sqq's mental gymnastics over this romantic offensive would be very impressive#well you've given me a nice thing to think about while falling asleep tonight#EDIT: oh and as far as corduroyserpent i know i've at least read their ''i shine only with the light you gave me''#that one was absolutely WONDERFUL i was very emotional about it - i don't know whether or not i've stumbled across any of their others tho#i'll have to dive into their ao3 profile and search it more intentionally though if they come with praise like this đ
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Take My Love and Wear It
SYNOPSIS: Taking care of Charles has its own special challenges, but you didnât expect the hardest one to be the man who hired you. Distant, gruff and rough around the edges, Logan still manages to worm his way under your skin. But youâve worked your way under his, too.Â
PAIRING: Old Man Logan x fem!reader
WC: 10.8kÂ
WARNINGS: smut 18+; mdni; angst; swearing; non-explicit mentions of wounds, blood and use of stitches; extreme physical pain; Charles is a lovable, meddling little shit; fluff sprinkled in for good measure; Logan in a tub (if I had a nickel for every time I bathed him, Iâd have two nickelsâwhich isnât a lot, but its weird it happened twice, right); touch-starved Logan; handjobs; shower sex; fingering; dirty talk; oral (f receiving); sex with feelings; unprotected p in v; creampie
A/N: Thereâs something special about Old Man Logan, isnât there? Old and grumpy and desperately in need of some love and affection. I know the Charles caregiver story has been done before, but I couldnât get this idea out of my head. And then Charles starting talking in my head and well...it blossomed into this. As always, thank you to @joelsgoldrush for allowing me to send her snippets of this as I went along and offering her love, support and suggestions. I hope you enjoy this and any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!
You stare down at the remnants of yesterdayâs cold and congealed dinner and sigh. Scraping the food into the trash, you resist the urge to pack everything you have and leave.Â
One month.Â
One month of helping Charlesâmaking his meals, washing his clothes, giving him his meds, making sure he doesnât hurt himself (or others), assisting with daily tasksâand Logan still regards you as a nuisance, like a gnat needing to be swatted away.Â
At best, he ignores you, moving around the house as if you donât exist.Â
And at worst, he treats you with barely concealed contempt, his scowl deepening the lines of his face whenever heâs around you. As if youâre invading his space uninvited even though heâs the one that sought out help.Â
You grip the edge of the sink, staring down into the porcelain basin as if it holds some hidden answers. Every day youâve tried to break through walls Loganâs built around himself, held onto Charlesâ promise that eventually heâll soften, just give him time, but he only seems to have grown more hostile. And youâve done nothing to incur his ire besides watching him come home every day battered and bruised, his very bones weary with exhaustion, and offering your assistance.
Part of you is angryâangry that you care so much when your main focus is supposed to be Charles. Angry that despite all his efforts to come across unapproachable and cold, Loganâs worked himself under your skin and takes a little piece of you with him whenever he leaves.Â
Angry that somehow heâs stolen a piece of your heart.Â
You hear shuffling behind you and turn to find Logan entering the kitchen, fingers fastening the last buttons on his dress shirt. âWhat?â he asks gruffly and for a moment you wonder if he can read your thoughts.
You straighten and meet his gaze head on, swallowing down your nervousness. âHow much longer are we going to keep doing this, Logan?â
âDoing what?â
âThis,â you say, gesturing between you. âYou walking around here like Iâm some stain upon your life, acting like Iâm a problem when all Iâve ever done is try and help.â Your voice is steadier than you feel. âYou asked for me to be here, Logan. Itâs not like I barged in here without permission.â
Logan holds your gaze, his jaw tight, and for a moment you think heâs going to grab his keys and leave, head off into the night and drive until sunrise. His eyes soften for just a moment, something like regret crossing his features.Â
âI know why youâre here. And I doâŠappreciate it,â he says, his words coming out low and rough. As if the words taste foreign in his mouth.Â
âWouldnât kill you to show it,â you challenge.
Youâre waiting for him to lash out and instead he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. âLook, Iâm not good at this.â
âIâm not asking you to bow at my feet,â you say, hoping to ease some of the tension in the air. âAlthough, I wouldnât be mad about it.â You think you see the briefest hint of a smile flicker across his face. âI just want us to be able to live in the same space. Iâm here to help, Logan. Let me.â
âYou have no idea how hard this life is.â
A rueful smile tugs at your lips. âI understand more than you think I do.â
Loganâs gaze sharpens, inquisitive as he searches your face, as if heâs trying to decipher the meaning behind your words. He rubs a hand across his face, scratching lightly as his beard. âIâve gotta couple jobs tonight. Maybe more,â he finally says, changing the conversation. âShould be back before sunrise.â
You nod, his switch in topic not lost on you, but you donât push him. âAlright,â you say softly. âJustâjust take it easy, okay?â
He glances down at you, relief softening his gaze and you know a part of him is grateful you didnât push further.Â
Grabbing his keys, Logan heads towards the door but pauses just before heâs about to leave. He turns to look back over his shoulder. âThanks,â he murmurs, the word awkward on his lips.Â
You give him a small nod of encouragement as he slips out the door. He may not be ready to full open up, but you feel as if he extended a tiny olive branch tonight, cracked open the door just enough to let you peek in.
+++
Over the following weeks, Loganâs a little less avoidant. He doesnât go out of his way to make conversationâyou didnât expect him toâbut he at least as acknowledges your presence. Small nods and murmured goodbyes when he leaves and sleepy hellos when he returns. Itâs not much, but youâll take it.Â
Youâre cleaning the last of the dishes from dinner, Charles safely settled in front of the TV watching an old movie when Logan comes home. Heâs earlier than you anticipated, but exhaustion lines his face nonetheless. You expect him to slip away quietly, but he pauses instead, lingering in the doorway.Â
âSmells good,â he says softly, nodding towards the pan of half eaten lasagna still sitting on the counter.Â
Surprised, you turn around to face him. You brush the hair from your face and say, âSit. Iâll make you up some.âÂ
Logan hesitates and for a moment you think heâs about to decline, but then he nods, his shoulders dropping slightly as he sits down at the table. You fix him up a plate, setting it down in front of him with a bottle of beer as you slide into the chair across from him. Â
He tucks quietly into the food, his fork scraping against his plate as he eats, pausing only to wash it down with a few swigs of beer. You watch him, a strange satisfaction tugging at you at the sight of him actually sitting down, enjoying a meal with you, even if it is in silence.Â
âLong day?â you ask quietly, gesturing towards his bruised knuckles.
He flexes the fingers on his free hand before tucking them under the table. âNothinâ I canât handle,â he mutters, taking another bite of lasagna. âTheyâll be gone in a day or two.â
You know not that long ago an injury like that wouldnât have even marred his skin. Now, the simplest of wounds can take days to heal and itâs not the appearance of his skin that bothers you, but the newfound ache he experiences, the heaviness of constant pain.
You want to help him, ease his discomfort, like you know you could. But you know heâs not ready for that. Not yet.
âYouâre good with Charles,â Logan says then, his gaze steady on his plate. âHe seems calmer around you.â
Loganâs admission is so unexpected, you find yourself staring at him in disbelief. At your silence, his eyes flicker up to yours and you see more than simple acknowledgement in his expression. Itâs subtle, but itâs there, a current of something more, something youâre not quite sure how to address.
âThank you,â you murmur, your voice softer than you intended. âCharlesâhe means a lot to me.â You pause briefly, but something compels you to continue. âYou both do.â
His gaze is focused on you and you donât miss the flicker of surprise that breaks through his usual stoic expression. Clearing his throat, he looks down, pushing around the last bit of lasagna on his plate and then after a moment, he sets his fork down and leans back in his chair. âYou mean a lot to him, too,â Logan finally says and you wonder if heâs talking about more than just Charles.
From the living room you hear Charles call for you, his voice soft but insistent. The moment between you still crackles as you stand from the table and as you begin to walk away, Logan reaches for your hand. His fingers are warm and rough against your skin and youâre barely able to suppress your shiver.Â
âThank you,â Logan says, his voice surprisingly soft.Â
His grip against your skin is gentle, a stark contrast to all his roughness and you can feel the weight of his unspoken words curling around you. Charles calls again, his voice breaking through the moment, but Loganâs hand lingers just a beat longer before he lets go, fingers trailing along your skin.Â
+++
âHe likes you, you know.â
You glance up from shaving Charlesâ face and find him staring at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. You give a soft hum. âDid he tell you that or did you read his mind?â
Charles scoffs and waves his hand dismissively. âWhatâs the difference, dear?âÂ
You chuckle, shaking your head as you rinse the razor. âWith Logan Iâm pretty sure thereâs a big difference.â
âBah, if Logan wanted to keep me out of his head, he would. Stubborn man.â He tsks softly to himself and shakes his head. âBut, no my dear, he can be quite loud if you know how to listen.â
You raise an eyebrow, giving him a playful look. âLoud, huh? And what exactly is that brain of his telling you?â
Charles gives you a knowing smile. âOh, just little things,â he says casually with a wave of his hand, but you can tell by the look on his face that heâs holding back. âHe notices youâwhat you do for me, this place, for him. He may not realize it himself, but his thoughts linger on you more often than heâd like.â
A flicker of hope sparks in your chest and despite yourself, you feel a blush creeping into your cheeks. âLogan doesnât strike me as the sentimental type.â
âLogan has spent so much of his life running,â Charles continues, his tone and expression growing more thoughtful. âThe loss heâs experienced has led him to believe itâs better to be alone than form meaningful connections with people. But youâve somehow become something of a home for him. And he doesnât quite know what to make of that.â
Your heart skips a beat as you take in his words. The idea of being a home for Logan, a comfort, feels surreal, and yet...thereâs a part of you that dares to hope what Charles is saying is true. That this isnât some fictional truth his brain has concocted, a product of his disease riddled mind.Â
âHome.â You repeat the word softly to yourself, testing the word on your own tongue as if it might shatter into pieces.
Charles nods, his hand reaching for yours, his gaze warm and knowing. âYes, home. He feels it, deep down, in a way thatâs unfamiliar and frightening for him.â
You glance down at your hand in Charlesâ grasp, his touch grounding you as his words settle over you.Â
âLoganâs spent so long hiding from himself,â Charles continues. âI think heâs convinced himself he doesnât deserve that kind of peace.â
âAnd you think I can give him that peace?â you ask quietly, your eyes flicking back up to Charlesâ face.
He smiles knowingly and gives your hand a squeeze. âYou already have, dear.â
+++
âWant some help?â
You turn to find Logan standing in the entrance of the kitchen, hands tucked into his pockets.
Itâs a rare nightâone where Loganâs chosen to stay home, taking a night off from the almost endless driving he does. Heâs dressed down, well worn jeans and a button-up flannel, and for once you actually think he looks comfortable.
You smile, surprised, but happy to see him there. âSure, the company would be nice,â you reply as he comes to stand next to you. âWant to wash and dice the potatoes?â
Logan nods and rolls up his sleeves before reaching for the bowl of potatoes you had set aside earlier. You watch him for a moment as he settles into the task with a quiet focus.Â
âSmells good,â he comments, gesturing towards the oven. âWhatâre we having?â
âCharles has been asking for beef tenderloin for weeks now, so Iâm finally indulging him.â You finish trimming the last of the green beans and toss them into the bowl beside you. âYou know, if you have any favorite meals youâd like me to make, you can tell me.â
Logan pauses and glances at you as he shuts off the tap. He clears his throat and says, âYou already are.â
You blink in surprise as Loganâs words sink in and then the realization dawns on you. A soft smile spreads across your face as you piece together the extent of Charlesâ meddling. You canât find it in you to be annoyed and only feel a mix of amusement and fondness towards the old man as you chuckle softly to yourself.
âWhatâs so funny?â Logan asks, raising his eyebrow as he catches your expression.
âOh, nothing,â you say, waving him off with a smile.Â
Logan doesnât look convinced, but he doesnât pry as he picks up the knife and begins to deftly dice the potatoes. You watch him for a moment, captivated by the simple domesticity of the task. Itâs in direct contrast to the man youâve seen numerous times before, brooding and gruff, brimming with an almost untamed violence.Â
It suits him, you think, this quieter version of himself.
You both finish the prep with relative ease. He helps you set the table as the rest of the food cooks, plates clinking softly as he sets them down. You busy yourself with finishing the green beans in a garlic butter as you wait for for the tenderloin to rest enough to carve into.Â
âAh, my dear, this smells wonderful,â Charles announces as he rolls into the kitchen, a warm smile on his face. âAnd you managed to pull Logan out of his room. What a treat.â
Logan snorts in response, giving Charles a pointed glare.
âI dare say itâs because the company has improved much as of late,â Charles says, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he glances between the both of you. âWe all know heâs not out here for my benefit.â
You laugh as you bring the dishes to the table, noting the faintest of blushes creeping along Loganâs cheeks. âIâll take that as a compliment, Charles.â
âAs you should, dear. Your personality is quite sparkling.â He looks over towards Logan. âIsnât it, Logan?â
Loganâs eyes land on you as he answers, âYes. Yes, it is.â
Dinner begins quietly, the three of you settling into easy conversation as the first few bites are consumed. Both Charles and Logan hum in delight and a warmth blooms within you watching them both. Thisâthis is the simplicity youâve been craving with Logan.
As the meal continues, Charles launches into his usual repertoire of stories, those of the school and his students, his words brimming with nostalgia and pride as he talks. Logan sits back in his chair, arms crossed as he listens to him speak, shaking his head fondly at some of the memories.
âYou know,â Charles begins, setting his fork down with an air of mischief, âI donât think I ever told you how I met Logan, have I?â
Loganâs head snaps up. âDonât, Chuck.â
But Charles is already smiling at you, ignoring Loganâs warning. âItâs a good story, dear. See, Logan had quite the career as an underground cage fighter.â
You lift your brows in surprise and you glance over at Logan, whoâs thoroughly unamused by Charlesâ choice of topic. âCage fighting, huh?â you ask, unable to suppress your curiosity.Â
Logan shifts uncomfortably in his seat, stabbing at his potatoes with a little more force than necessary. âIt wasnât a career,â he mutters. âJust a distraction. Way to get by.â
âMmm, yes, perhaps,â Charles chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. âRegardless of the reason, it lead you to this exact moment. Didnât it, Logan?â
Logan narrows his eyes at Charles, though the glare is only half-hearted. âYou make it sound like all it all had some grand purpose.â
âDid it not?â Charles says gently, his tone shifting into something more serious. âKept you alive, for one. But more than that, it brought you to us. To me.â He pauses for a moment, his eyes darting towards you. âTo her.â
The words hang in the air and you glance over at Logan, whose expression softens just slightly. Without thinking, you reach across the table and give his forearm a gentle squeeze. His eyes meet yours, a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips.
Charles watches the exchange with quiet satisfaction before clearing his throat. âWell, I believe my work here is done,â he announces, wheeling himself back from he table. âLogan, fancy a game of chess? I havenât made a player out of her yet.â
You laugh to yourself as Logan follows Charles into the living room. After clearing the kitchen from dinner and loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, you join them both in the living room. Tucking yourself into the couch, you read while the two of them play, the clinking of wooden chess pieces and the occasional dry quip from Charles filling the room.
From your spot on the couch, you glance up from your book every now and then to watch them. Loganâs brow furrows in concentration, while Charlesâ face is more relaxed as they play. You smile to yourself, wondering how often they played like this in the past, when times were simpler.
Youâre not sure when you fell asleep or how long youâve been out, but youâre jostled awake as two large, warm arms wrap around you, holding you close as youâre lifted off the couch. Loganâs familiar scentâcigar smoke and pineâfill your nose and you blink up to find him walking you down the hall towards your room.
âLogan?â you mumble, voice thick with sleep. âDâyou really cage fight?â
Logan chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. âI really did.â
âDid it hurt?â
âNo.â
You blink slowly, your sleep-laden mind struggling to process his answer. âNot even a little?â Your voice is barely audible as you nestle closer into the warmth of his chest.
âNot in the way you think,â he answers, nudging open the door to your room with his foot.
Youâre too drowsy to ask what he means and instead you hum softly, a noncommittal sound that Logan feels more than hears. Lowering you onto the bed, he moves with a gentleness youâve never felt from him before. He brushes a strand of hair from your face and pulls the blanket over you before he turns to leave.
Your limbs are heavy, eyes barely open, but you call out softlyââLogan?â
He looks back towards you. âYeah?â
âIâm glad Charles found you,â you murmur, closing your eyes.
Logan doesnât answer, but you swear you feel the lightest of kisses against the top of your head before he leaves.
+++
Itâs deep into the night when you hear the front door finally open. Your heart flutters against your ribs as you swing out of bed, unsure of what condition youâll find him in. He was expected back two days ago, those extra hours away feeling like an unfathomable eternity.Â
You find him sitting at the kitchen table, dress shirt hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his clothes rumpled and bloodied. A large gash oozes from his shoulder and you canât stop the gasp that falls from your lips.Â
Logan looks up at you, eyes narrowed and lined with exhaustion. âDonât look at me like that,â he grunts, tugging off the rest of his shirt.Â
âHow else am I supposed to look at you?â you ask, taking a tentative step forward. âNo phone call or text letting me know youâre not coming home and then you waltz in after midnight soaked in blood and covered in wounds.â Unshed tears burn in your eyes but you will yourself not to cry.Â
âDidnât ask you to care about me,â he bites back, but his tone is more weary than argumentative.Â
âOh, fuck you, Logan,â you snip, but your tone lacks venom.
He ignores you, pushing up from the chair with a heavy groan and limps over towards the cabinets. He shuffles through one of them, pulling out the makeshift sewing kit before sitting back down. You watch as he attempts to thread the needle, growing increasingly frustrated when he keeps missing.Â
Shoving down your own frustration, you pull up a chair next to him and reach for the needle and thread. He pulls his hands away from you, turning in the chair to keep you away. You chase after his movements, finally grabbing his wrists and removing the supplies from his grasp.
âI donât need your help,â he growls.Â
You sigh, tired of this same argument, this same endless loop every time he comes home injured. âGoddamit, Logan, just let me help you.â
He drags his gaze up to yours, eyes tracing the lines of your face. His chest still heaves with heavy breaths, but you can see the anger bleed from him. He nods once, turning just enough so that you have access to his wound. Threading the needle, you place a gentle hand on his shoulder, ignoring the flinch he gives at your touch.Â
âIâm not going to hurt you,â you whisper.Â
Logan huffs. âItâs a needle, darlinâ. Itâs not gonna feel nice.â
You try to ignore the flip your heart does at his use of the word darling. Despite his earlier gruffness and proclivity to push you away, Logan has softened to you over the last couple of months. Since that first dinner you shared, heâs joined you and Charles more often. Or if he comes home late, sought out the leftovers youâve kept for him. Heâs engaged in conversation, offering small pieces of himself, pieces that youâve cradled close and nurtured.Â
But thereâs a tension between you, thick and heavy in the air, and you wonder if he feels it too. Feels that same undeniable pull youâve always felt in his presence. Youâd like to think so, otherwise you were doomed to love him silently, your feelings for him bound in the quiet of your mind.
âJust trust me,â you say.Â
Slowly, you release your power, warmth spreading from your fingertips, easing his pain and discomfort as you begin to stitch him up. You try to ignore the heavy press of his gaze on your face and you can almost hear his unspoken thoughts, his words still stuck on his tongue.
âWhy didnât you tell me?â he asks, his shoulder relaxing as you continue to work.
You glance up at him then, finding his expression softer than youâve seen it. âA mutant is a dangerous thing to be, Logan,â you answer, your voice soft. âFew people know what I can do. Those I trust.â
For a long moment, Logan just looks at you, his eyes unreadable. Then, a rough, tired sigh falls from his lips. âYou coulda told me.â
You take a steadying breath, his words lingering in the space between you. âMaybe,â you say, your fingers brushing against his skin as you continue to stitch. âBut you donât make it easy to talk to you.â
Logan lets out a low huff. âNo. I guess I donât, do I?â
You finish the last stitch, securing the knot. Your fingers linger a touch long than necessary, the warmth of his skin a comfort youâre loathe to lose just yet. Slowly, you lift your gaze to his and you feel your heart beat solidly against your ribs as he looks back at you like heâs seeing something there he hadnât allowed himself to before.Â
Loganâs voice is low when he finally speaks. âWhy you keep stickinâ around? Watchinâ me come home time after time covered in blood?â
âBecause you deserve it.â The words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them. âEven if you donât see that.â
He doesnât respond, not right away, as he continues to watch you, his eyes tracing the lines of your face. Then he reaches up for you, fingers curling around your wrist, his skin warm and rough against yours. He holds you there as if grounding himself in your presence, his thumb drawing random patterns against your skin. The gesture is simple, but vulnerable and open in a way he rarely shows.
âIâm no good for you,â he murmurs, glancing down at where heâs touching you. âFor anybody.â
âHow âbout you let me be the judge of that?â you answer, your voice steady. âYouâre more than you think you are.â
Logan clenches his jaw, a flicker of disbelief crossing his features, and you know deep below the surface heâs waging a war against himself, one heâs been fighting for far too long. His thumb stills on your wrist, his grip loosening slightly, but not letting go.Â
Placing your hand over his, you give him a soft smile. âCâmon, letâs get you cleaned up.â
+++
Youâre surprised that he doesnât argue, doesnât try to brush you off or push you away as you gently nudge him towards the bathroom. He still gives you a dubious glance as he looks down at the tub, but you just ignore it, moving past him to run the tap.
You give him privacy to undress and get settled before you reenter the bathroom. The sight of him, as large as he his with his knees pulled up to his chest, makes you laugh, garnishing a terse look from him.
âYou find this amusing?â
âBig man in a little tub? Yeah, I do,â you reply with a smile. âJust relax, Logan. Thisâll be our secret.â
He huffs, but does seem to visibly relax, resting his arms over his knees. You kneel down in front of him, resting one hand gently against his forearm as your other reaches for the washcloth. You can feel the tension release from his muscles as your power floods through him and he breathes out a soft, âOh,â as all the pain and discomfort is eased from his body.
You wonder how long itâs truly been since heâs felt like this, unburdened by the pain and suffering of his own body. Your heart aches for him as you slowly begin to wash him, rubbing soft circles over the scarred flesh of his back, rinsing away the blood dried to his skin.Â
Even battered and marred as he is, you still find him beautifulâyou always have. When you first started working with him all those months ago, you felt that pang of attraction when you met him, youâd have been blind not to. Ruggedly handsome, so strong and sure of himself. But you know that wasnât all that drew you to him. Deep down, below all the tough, seemingly impenetrable exterior, you saw the man he truly was. Someone born of scars and rough edges, yet gentle. Someone who would selflessly put himself before others, even at his own expense.Â
You let the cloth linger a moment longer against his skin before dipping it back into the water, watching as his blood rinses from the fabric. Squeezing the excess water out, you press it back against his collarbone, tracing the warm cloth along his neck and over his shoulders. Logan doesnât move, his eyes half-closed, his expression relaxed in a way youâve never seen before.
Something deep tugs at you as you realize how vulnerable he is right now, how trusting. He hides behind a gruff exterior, his true self guarded so carefully so that he doesnât let people in, doesnât open himself up to the hurt that trusting another person can bring. But maybe youâve finally cracked through, broken down a little bit of that wall he surrounds himself with.
The warm water drips from his skin as you continue to wash him, letting your fingers trail gently along the newly cleaned lines of his arms. Logan shivers at your touch, but he doesnât pull away. If anything, he seems to lean into it, his breathing deepening, muscles falling even more slack.Â
âFeel nice?â you ask in a murmur, voice barely above a whisper.
He nods, finally glancing up at you through his half-lidded gaze. ââS very nice,â he replies, his voice rough.
âGood. You deserve it,â you say, repeating your sentiment from earlier.
You feel a flicker of warmth as his eyes meet yours and he simply nods. It takes everything in you to not smile too widely, to keep the moment gentle, but you take his acceptance to heart.Â
Running the cloth down his ribs, you pause when you feel the misshapen knot of a bruise beneath your fingers and glancing down, you find a deep purple hue coloring his skin. Your eyes dart to his with worry, knowing that an injury like that will take him at least a week to heal, if not longer, in his weakened state. That with every breath heâll feel the pain of his muscles pulling and the bruise spreading if youâre not touching him.
Dropping the washcloth in the water, you press your palm against his side and take in a deep breath to steady yourself. Then, a warmth spreads from your skin into his as you pull his injury from him, feeling his skin knit back together, feeling his abused muscles realign themselves under his skin. A dull, yet sharp ache, blooms along your ribs as you continue to pull his pain into yourself, erasing the injury from his body. With a final gasp, you draw back, your fingers now running along unmarred flesh knitted whole.Â
Logan tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze as the back of his knuckles brush against your cheek. His eyes flicker to yours, holding your gaze, and for a moment, the room falls into a deep quiet.
That pull between you, the magnetic force that youâve felt since the beginning, feels amplified now. Youâre acutely aware of every inch of space between youâhow small it is, how easy it would be to close it. How badly you want to close it. You swallow, feeling the tension coil in your belly as he continues to hold your gaze, unblinking, but more open and raw than heâs ever been before.
âWhat are you doing to me?â he asks.
Your breath catches in your throat at his question, voice rough and laced with something between wonder and disbelief. As if he canât quite fathom what youâve done for himâwhat youâve given him so freely.
Loganâs eyes search yours, his fingers drifting from your cheek to trace along your jaw, lingering with a tenderness that belies the man he presents to the outside world. His gaze is steady and intimate, as if heâs trying to understand you in a way that goes beyond words. But you say nothing, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears to form a reply.
âYou took it on yourself, my pain?â
You simply nod, distracted by the way Loganâs fingers continue to brush along the edge of your ear, tracing the lines of your face as if heâs afraid youâll vanish if he lets go.Â
âWhy?â
âBecause I want to,â you whisper, unable to resist the pull of his hand against your skin, the warmth of his touch that you feel with every fiber of your being. âBecause itâs the one thing I can do to help you.â
A beat of silence passes, the air thick and heavy with unspoken words. He exhales, shaky and deep, letting his hand slide to the back of your neck. The calloused pads of his fingers press gently against your skin, anchoring you in place and you can feel him pull you closer, his gaze dropping to your lips, his breath mingling with yours in the small, intimate space between you.
âI shouldnât want this, want you,â he says, voice so low itâs almost a rumble. âBut, fuck, I do.âÂ
His confession is raw, leaving him unguarded for the first time in a long time and before he can pull back, before he can throw those walls back up around himself, you close the gap, resting your forehead against his. You bring your hand up to touch his face, thumb brushing over his cheek as you breath him in, feeling the heat radiate between you.Â
Loganâs hand slides further along your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he finally, gently, presses his lips to yours. His kiss isnât demanding or rushed or filled with passion, but a lingering connection, the promise of something more. His lips are softer than you imagined, his touch more careful than you expected, as if heâs afraid heâll break you. Slowly, his thumb traces circles against your cheek, steadying and soothing, pulling you closer.Â
When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed. His breath is warm against your skin. âI donât wanna push you away anymore,â he murmurs.
âGood because I donât want you to.â
Logan lets out a breath, a hint of a smile finally softening his features.Â
Reluctantly, you pull away and pick the washcloth up again, intent on finishing what you started. The water turns to rust as you wash him of blood and grime, making sure you reach each cut, each bruise, each scar on his body that makes up the map of who he is.Â
You turn off the tap and hand him a towel, averting your eyes as he stands, wrapping the towel low across his hips. Logan reaches for you, tugging on the collar of your shirt to pull you closer. You stumble a bit as he pulls you in, surprised by the insistence in his grip. Loganâs eyes meet yours, an intensity behind his gaze that makes your breath catch.
âCâmere,â he murmurs, hand slipping along your jaw, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip.Â
Youâre drawn forward as Loganâs lips find yours again, but this time thereâs an urgency behind the kiss, a desperation and need heâs no longer trying to hide. He holds your face gently in his hands as he deepens the kiss, his nose pressing against yours, his beard scraping against your skin and you find yourself melting against him.
This is what youâve been craving since you met him. Despite it allâthe rage simmering just below his surface, the sharpness of his exterior, the sometimes shocking callousness of his wordsâyou always knew there was a tenderness underneath, a softness that even his tortured past couldnât erase.Â
Loganâs hands drift from your face, trailing down your neck and tracing along the curve of your spine as he presses you closer until thereâs no space between you. The dampness of his skin bleeds into your shirt and you gasp into his mouth when he shifts his hips just enough and you feel heat of his erection against your thigh.
He pulls away from your mouth long enough to husk against your lips, âIâm old, not dead.â His teeth nip lightly at your bottom lip. âIâve gotta beautiful woman lettinâ me kiss her, what did you expect?â
Your fingers trail along the edge of the towel slung low across this hips and a thrill runs through you as you feel his abdominal muscles flutter beneath your touch. You peer up at him, noting the flush of his skin, the black of his eyes as you tug the fabric just enough to loosen it. âHow long has it been since someone has touched you, Logan?â you ask, your breath warm in the space between you.
Loganâs hands urge your hips closer, seeking friction as he starts to slowly rut against your thigh. You hear him swallow as your fingers dip below the fabric, brushing along the damp hair at the base of his cock.Â
âFâfuck,â he groans, guttural and low, his head dropping down to your shoulder. âSince before you.â
The weight of Loganâs confession presses into you and in that moment you want to give him everything. Wrap him in all the love you can muster, show him something other than pain and suffering.Â
You move your hand from the towel, allowing the fabric to fall from his waist and pool forgotten on the floor. Loganâs breath catches as your fingers wrap around him fully, the heat and weight of his cock pressing against your palm.Â
A ragged groan escapes his throat. âChrist,â he mutters, voice thick and vibrating against your skin. âYou donât gottaââ
âI want to,â you interrupt, slowly and deliberately dragging your hand along his length, tracing the vein along the underside of his cock with your fingertips.
Loganâs hips jerk involuntarily, seeking friction, chasing your hand, and you oblige, tightening your grip just enough to elicit another groan from him.Â
âWhat do you like?â The question lands in the sliver of space between you, your strokes still light, teasing.
âFirmer, more ahââ He breaks off as you tighten your grip on the upstroke. âFuck, yes, like that, sweetheart.â
A shiver runs down your spine as his hands find your waist, fingers clutching at you almost hard enough to bruise. His breaths are growing uneven, each exhale warm against your neck as he fights to maintain some semblance of control.
âYou keep that up,â he rasps, lips grazing your ear, âand Iâm not gonna last long.â
His admission sends a rush of pride through you and you tilt your head back to look at him, your thumb brushing over the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the wetness there. Loganâs eyes meet yours, dark and heavy-lidded, his expression raw and unguarded. You like him like this, such a large, imposing man boiled down to pure wanton need.Â
âI donât mind,â you reply, keeping your movements steady, your strokes firm yet gentle. You focus on the subtle shifts in his breathing, the way his fingers grip you tighter each time you find the right rhythm. âJust wanna make you feel good, Logan.â
He leans forward, capturing your lips into a kiss thatâs both rough and messy, teeth nipping at your lip as his tongue licks into your mouth. He groans are muffled against your mouth as his hips begin to thrust in time with your strokes, his movements growing more erratic as he chases after his release.Â
âCanât believeâah, fuckâcanât believe how good youâre makinâ me feel,â he growls against your lips.
You smile into his mouth, your free hand brushing along his hipbone as your strokes quicken. His whole body tenses, the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexing, his abdominal muscles taut as he teeters on the edge.
âLet go, Logan,â you say. âIâve got you.â
With a strangled groan, he comes, his release spilling over your hand, hot and thick. His body shudders against yours as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You hold him close as he continues to thrust lazily into your grip, your own movements slowing as you guide him through the aftershocks.Â
For a moment, neither of you speaks, then Logan lifts his head, his hazel eyes soft as they meet yours. âYou walked into my life and I knewâI knewâyou would ruin me.â
You smile to yourself, unable to stop the thought that floats into your headâheâs ruined you as well.Â
+++
The text comes in at a little over one AMâhurt.
You jump out of bed, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you slip into one of his discarded flannels and head out into the night. Pacing the driveway, your heart jumps into your throat at every passing headlight, your thumbnail almost bitten down to the quick as you wait for him.
The minutes bleed into eternity until you finally see the limo turn down the long drive and it takes all your willpower to not run and meet him halfway. Youâre bouncing on your heels as he finally comes to a stop, the driverâs side door opening with a faint groan of steel.Â
Your heart stutters in your chest as he emerges from the car, blood soaking through his shirt, dark and spreading, as he steps towards you on shaky legs. Loganâs face is pale in the moonlight, his breathing uneven and shallow and white-hot dread shoots up your spine as you see his arm hanging limp, two of his claws unsheathed and dripping blood.
âOh, fuck, fuck!â you gasp, rushing to his side.
Logan tries to wave you off, gritting his teeth as he grips the doorframe. ââM fine,â he grits, but the tremor in his voice betrays him.Â
You reach for him, hands already attempting to steady him as his knees buckle and he collapses to the ground beneath him. âCareful. Claws,â he rasps as his left hand seeks purchase against your shoulder.
âI donât fucking care about your claws, Logan,â you snap, although you both know your anger isnât at him. You glance up at him and for once you think you actually see fear in his eyes. âWhat happened?â
âGas. Robbery.â Each word punches out of his chest, the effort to speak sending tremors down his limbs. âGot âem.â He nods down towards his limp arm, claws still unsheathed, but slowly, so slowly starting to retract.
He winces as you help him peel off his coat to get to the shirt underneath. Your fingers shake as they trace the holes the bullets madeâone in his shoulder, dangerously close to his lungs and the other just below his ribs. Hooking your fingers through the fabric, you rip it from his chestâthe wounds are deep and his skin is hot and slick with sweat.
Panic claws at you and unshed tears burn in your eyes. Youâve seen Logan hurt before, but thisâthis was different. His breathing is painfully shallow, his usual gruffness and resilience absent.Â
âLogan, youâre not healing,â you whisper, your voice shaking as your fingers stain with blood. Logan simply grunts, trying to wave you off, but lacking the strength. âI canâtâŠI canât lose you. I can help.â
Loganâs eyes widen as he grabs for your wrist. âNo. Youâll hurt yourself.â
âI donât care!â you shout. âI love you, dammit, and Iâm not just going to sit here and watch you die!â
Before he can protest, you press your palms over his wounds, the familiar warmth of your power surging through you as it spreads from your palms into his torn flesh.
The pain hits you like a freight train.
Itâs sharp and relentless, searing through your shoulder and into the softness of your belly like molten fire. You gasp, biting back a scream as your body jerks instinctively away from the intensity, every cell in your body demanding you withdraw from the torture.Â
But you donât stop. You cling to him, tears streaming down your face as you channel your power into him, knitting his flesh back together. You can feel it, the way his muscles, bones and tissue rearrange themselves, months of healing taking place in mere moments. Every second feels like an eternity, but you refuse to let go.
Youâre dimly aware of Logan yelling at you to stop, his own pain momentarily forgotten as he watches you endure his agony.Â
Black dots dance in your vision as the last of his wounds come together, the spent bullets clinking to the gravel and you finally collapse against him, trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The fire in your body begins to dull, fading to a cold, hollow ache as Logan wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest.
âHey,â you mumble against him, your voice barely above a whisper. âYouâre okay now.â
âMe?â Loganâs voice is low, disbelieving as his hand cradles the back of your head as if you might shatter. âYouâre the oneâwhy the fuck would you do that? You couldâveâdammit, youââ
His words break off, his forehead dropping to yours as his breath shudders against your cheek. You can feel the tension radiating through him, warring with himself between his gratitude and anger, between his guilt and the love heâs too afraid to speak out loud.
âI told you why,â you answer, lifting your head to look up at him.Â
Loganâs jaw clenches, his words caught in his throat, but his eyes say everything is voice wonât. You donât need him to say it, not yet, but you can feel it, pressing just below the surface.
âCâmon, letâs get you inside.â
+++
Thereâs a reverence in which Logan washes you.Â
Steam swirls around you as he works the thickly lathered loofah over your shoulders, down across your collarbones and down along the soft planes of your stomach. The water rinses away the faint metallic tang of blood, leaving behind the fresh scent of soap. He continues with a silent determination, as if the act of washing you can erase all the pain youâve taken from him.
You know better than to convince him youâre fine, that the pain is always temporary, that it only lasts for a few minutes, sometimes just a bit longer. That the pain is something youâd endure for him again and again if heâd let you.Â
His thumb brushes along the underside of your ribs, searching for a wound you know he wonât find. You reach for him, lacing your fingers together with his. He blinks up at you, hazel eyes holding far too much worry for such a stoic man.
âIâm not going to break, Logan,â you say softly.
A wordless noice escapes his throat as he removes himself from your grasp and continues to work, ditching the loofah in favor of his hands. His fingers are warm and calloused against your skin as they glide lower, down over the swell of your hips, over your thighs, down towards your knees.Â
His touch morphs from one of care and comfort to one more sensual, simmering with unspoken tension as his fingers rest in the hollow behind your knee. You glance down at him, water droplets catching in his hair, running off the slope of his nose.Â
Though youâve seen him bare before, you can help but trace the lines of his bodyâthe broadness of his shoulders, the well defined muscles of his chest, the sturdiness of his thighs, the scars that mar his skin. The sight of him stirs something deep within you and you feel your pulse thrum beneath your skin.
âLogan,â you murmur, your voice almost lost in the sound of the water.
He looks up at you then, eyes locking with yours. A storm swirls within them, a mix of guilt, affection and an intensity that takes your breath away. Leaning in, he presses the barest of kisses to the inside of your knee before he rises to his full height, pressing you close.
âDâyou mean what you said before?â he asks, voice low.
I love you, dammit!
âYes,â you answer without hesitation.
Logan exhales sharply, the tension heâs been holding coiled in his muscles loosening as he loops his arms around your waist. âIâm not very good with words,â he admits, his breath fanning across your damp skin. âCan I show you?â
Thereâs no mistaking the meaning behind his words and you can only nod, your voice catching in your throat.Â
His lips find yours, mouth moving over yours slow and deliberate as if heâs savoring the taste of you. The first touch is a spark, the second a fire, and by the third, itâs an inferno that engulfs you both and leaves you breathless. Logan kisses you like youâre his anchor, his salvation, his touch desperate and full of everything he canât yet put into words.
Your fingers slide into his hair, gripping the strands at the nape of his neck as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. He groans against your mouth, the sound swallowed in the space between you. His tongue brushes against yours, teasing and exploring and you respond in kind, your nails scraping along his scalp.
Loganâs control is fraying. You can feel it in the way his teeth nip at your bottom lip, the way his hands press along the curve of your spine, the way he canât seem to find enough of your skin to touch, to caress. A low growl rumbles through his chest as you slip a hand between your slick bodies, finding his cock, thick and heavy against your belly.
You give one slow drag of your palm along his length before heâs gripping your thighs and forcing your legs around his waist. His mouth leaves yours, trailing down to the curve of your jaw as he presses you against the wall, the coolness of the tile a direct contrast to the heat of your skin and you canât stop the gasp that escapes your lips.Â
Despite his age, the metal bones inside him slowly poisoning him and causing him human aches and pains, heâs still able to hold you up solidly with one arm as the other trails along your hip bone and dips down to where youâre warm and wet.Â
âThis all for me?â he asks in a murmur, sliding a finger along the seam of your cunt, just barely brushing against your clit.Â
Your breath hitches and you grip his shoulders, nails pressing lightly into his skin as you nod. Loganâs eyes darken at your reaction, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
âYes,â you finally manage to whisper. âAlways for you.â
âGood,â he growls, leaning in to nip at the skin just below your ear. The deep rumble of his voice vibrates through you, his touch deliberate and almost torturously slow as he slides his fingers through your folds, spreading your slickness with a focused and unrelenting precision.Â
âOh, fuck,â you gasp, your head tilting back against the wall as he finally presses his thumb to your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to have your thighs trembling around his waist.Â
âI got you,â he coos against your skin, his lips trailing from the pulse point in your neck to your collarbone. His teeth scrape along the curve of your shoulder, his free hand gripping your hip tighter to steady you as his fingers continue to tease and coax. âLemme make you feel good.â
Every nerve ending is afire beneath him, every motion, every stroke of his fingers against your cunt leaving your mind reeling with pleasure. Your nails dig further into corded muscles of his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor yourself to. You pull back when you see the tiny, crescent shaped cuts marring his skin.
His eyes snap up to yours, sharp and molten. âNo, do it,â he urges, fingers still moving. âMark me with somethinâ pretty.â
âFuck, Logan,â you gasp.Â
âSay my name again,â he demands, his voice rough and commanding. Thereâs a quiet desperation in his tone, as if hearing it grounds him. Grounds him to this moment. To you.Â
You canât help but obey, whispering his name like a prayer, and he rewards you by slipping one long finger inside you, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure along your spine. Logan watches your face intently as if memorizing the way you react to his touch. When he adds a second finger and slowly begins to thrust his hand, you cling further to him, the heat inside you building to an almost unbearable intensity.
âGood girl,â he murmurs, his voice low and reverent. âYouâre so beautiful like this. So wet and warm and tight around me.â
His words barely register in your mind, too focused on the way his fingers curl and thrust inside you, finding that soft spot that makes your eyes roll back. Heâs relentless now, his thumb pressing hard against your clit as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.
âLogan, Iâm so close,â you whine, your hips beginning to roll against his hand, seeking just a bit more friction, forcing his fingers deeper inside of you.
The tension coiling low in your belly finally snaps, your orgasm washing over you in waves that make your whole body shudder as you cry out his name. Logan holds you through it, his hand continuing to thrust against you as he draws out every ounce of pleasure from you, his own breathing ragged against your skin.
When you finally come down, Logan presses a kiss to your temple as he helps you unwrap your legs from his waist and carefully sets you down, keeping you close.Â
You tilt your head to meet his gaze, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. âI didnât think youâd be into shower sex, old man,â you tease with a smile.
His laugh is low. âI can make exceptions. I need a bed to fuck you properly, though.âÂ
âProve it,â you challenge.
+++
The heat and intensity between you doesnât diminish as Logan helps you out of the shower and guides you down the hallway towards his bedroom. A shiver of anticipation crawls up your spine as you get closer, knowing that once you cross this line, thereâs no going back, that he will have claimed you fully.
You scoot back onto the bed, watching as he approaches you with a fire in his gaze that doesnât waver. He climbs onto the mattress, knee pressing down between yours as he cages you in from above, gently pinning you beneath him.Â
Leaning down, his lips brush against yours, teasing. âStill wanna challenge me, sweetheart?â His voice is a low gravelly growl that sends a prickling rush of arousal down your limbs.
âAlways,â you reply breathlessly, arching into his touch as his hands slide down your thighs, parting them with ease.Â
His grin is sharp as he leans back to take you in fully and you acutely feel the weight of his gaze against your skin. He traces his calloused fingers over your damp skin, along the dips of your collarbones, under the swell of each breast, mapping the curve of your hips as if committing you to memory. Dipping his head, he leans down between your legs, his beard grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you canât help but shudder at the sensation.
âYouâre so fuckinâ beautiful,â he says, almost to himself, his voice dripping with desire. He drags his lips higher, brushing along your damp cunt, his breath hot and tantalizing. âAnd all mine.â
The possessiveness in his tone has you clenching around nothing, heat pooling low in your belly and your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him closer. But he ignores your silent plea, almost deliberately testing your patience as he kisses you everywhere except where you want him most.
âLogan, please,â you gasp, the ache between your thighs almost painful.
âPatience,â he chides with a smirk, though his own resolve seems to be thinning. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer before he flattens his palms against your thighs, opening you fully to him. Then, his tongue is on you, lapping at you with flat, broad strokes in a rhythm that quickly has you teetering on the edge.
Loganâs focus is unrelenting, his low growls of approval vibrating through you as he works you over with an enthusiasm that proves to you this is about more than just pleasureâheâs claiming you, showing you just how much you mean to him. Making you his.Â
Your thighs tremble around him and his warm, rough hands hold you steady as he slips one, then two fingers deep inside of you. Itâs embarrassing how quickly you come as he thrusts his fingers against that spot inside you, your second orgasm of the night crashing over you as his name falls from his lips in a breathless moan.Â
Before you can properly catch your breath, Logan is moving from between your thighs, making his way back up your body, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. His lips finally find yours in a kiss thatâs messy and desperate and you can taste yourself on his tongue, sharp and bright, and the intimacy of it sends a thrill through you.Â
âYou taste so fuckinâ good,â he groans against your lips, his voice wrecked as he grinds his hips against yours, his cock hard and insistent against your hip. âCould spend the rest of my life between between those thighs.â
âWhy stop there?â you tease, your lips tugging into a smirk. âI thought you said youâd fuck me properly.â
Loganâs eyes darken, your challenge seeming to light something dark and primal in him. His grin is all teeth as he sits back on his heels, hands curling around your hips and pulling you down the bed like you weigh nothing until your hips are flush with his. âYou gotta mouth on you, sweetheart. Should we see if you can still talk stuffed full of my cock?â
The weight of his cock brushes against your slick folds and you gasp at the sensation, your nerve endings exquisitely sensitive. Logan grips himself at the base, giving himself one languid stroke before running the thick head along your cunt, teasing you with shallow thrusts. Each slow, deliberate stroke of him sliding against you leaves you desperate and aching and you lift your hips in search of more.
âLook at you,â he murmurs. âSo needy. Bet youâll take me so well, huh?â
âYes,â you breathe, nails digging into the muscles of his forearms. âPlease.â
He presses into you then, the stretch of his cock making your jaw drop as he takes his time, sinking in inch by inch, filling you completely. Loganâs gaze is locked on yours, heavy and possessive as he watches every flicker of pleasure cross your face.Â
âFuckâ he groans when heâs fully seated against your hips, his body trembling with the effort to stay still. âYou feelâŠso fuckinâ tight. So damn perfect.â
Your hands clutch at his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as he starts to move, pulling out torturously slow before thrusting back in harder, setting a rhythm thatâs relentless and consuming. Each stroke of his hips has you crying out, your body arching into his as you meet him thrust for thrust.
âTakinâ me so well, sweetheart,â he growls, his fingers gripping the flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise as he continues to pound into you. âLike you were made for me.â
The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing in with your whimpered moans and Logans own ragged groans. He leans down, bracing himself on his forearms, the wiry hair on his chest teasing your nipples as his lips find your neck, biting and sucking marks into your skin that feel like promises.
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in deeper, your heels digging into his back as the coil inside you begins to tighten once more. He feels it too, the way you body clenches around him, and his pace falters slightly, his breaths coming faster.
âCâmon,â he rasps against the pulse point on your neck. âWanna feel you come. Wanna make you fall apart.â
It doesnât take much moreâjust a few more well-angled thrusts that hit that spot inside you and the tension finally snaps, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling. Loganâs finesse is slipping, thrusts growing erratic as chases his own release.
âCome Logan,â you manage in a whisper. âCome for me.â
His hips stutter as he groans your name, spilling into you as his body tenses, lazily thrusting against you as he wrings out the last of his pleasure. He stays deep inside you, still for several moments before he shifts just enough to collapse against your side.
For a long moment, neither of you moves, the only sounds in the room being your heavy breathes and the pounding of your heart. Logan rests his head against your chest, heavy and sweat slick between your breasts. You brush at the strands of hair against his forehead before running your finger along the old scar on his cheek.
He lifts his head to look up at you, his gaze soft yet still simmering with hunger. âI do, you know,â he murmurs. His fingers brush idly against your skin. âLove you.â
A smile spreads across your face, warming blooming in your chest.
âI know.â
+++
You wake before he does, rolling over to find him prone, face buried in the pillow he hugs close to his chest. Sunlight filters in through the half slatted blinds, catching on the silver in his hair and beard and you canât help but admire how handsome he looks, how at peace he is beside you. Heâs relaxed in sleep for the first time since you came here. Youâve heard his growls and yelps of terror that echo in the night, seen the claw marks that pierce his sheets.
Your mind filters back to last night and how he looked as he came apart inside you, how desperate and needy he was for your touch upon his skin. The memory of his gasps and groans send a rush of warmth over your skin, making you dimly aware of the ache between your legs. Logan, so guarded, so unyielding and seemingly unbreakable, trembled as he came, his voice rough and wrecked as he called out your name. You shiver thinking about it.
You want to hear it again. But not now.
Resisting the urge to reach out and brush the hair from his forehead, you leave him undisturbed and slide out of bed. Padding into the kitchen, you find Charles sitting in his chair at the kitchen table, the newspaper spread out in front of him. He looks up at you with a warm smile as you start a pot of coffee, the machine humming to life.Â
âAh, I see,â he comments, a smirk tugging at his lips.
You glance over at Charles, his eyes back on the paper in front of him, but his smile still paints his face, sly and knowing. Heat creeps up your neck as you busy yourself with the coffee. âAre you reading my mind?â you ask, trying to force nonchalance into your tone.
Charles chuckles softly and taps at his temple. âI donât have to. Youâre projecting. And quite loudly, at that.â
You bite your lip as you fill your mug, leaning against the counter as the coffee warms your hands. You attempt to clear your mind, trying to think of anything mundaneâthe weather, baseball, laundry. Charles just shakes his head. âRelax, my dear. What the two of you do together as consenting adults is none of my business.â
âOh, God,â you groan, your cheeks aflame. âThatâs what Iâm projecting?â
âNot that explicitly, no. You think more in feelings, rather than words. But theyâre quite powerful emotions and rather hard to ignore when theyâre radiating as strongly as yours are this morning.â
You bury your face in your hand, peeking at Charles through your fingers, which only seems to amuse him further. âYouâre enjoying this far too much,â you mutter.Â
âPerhaps,â Charles says with a laugh. âBut youâre helping him. Healing him. And that, my dear, is worth everything.âÂ
Before you can respond, you hear the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Logan rounds the corner, hair tousled from sleep, his body still bare except for the pair of low slung sweatpants clinging to his hips. His eyes find yours first, softening in a way they rarely do for anyone else as he scratches at the back of his head and mumbles, âMorninâ.â
âMorning,â you reply with a smile, thankful for the distraction. You pour a second cup of coffee and offer it up to him. âCoffee?â
Logan grunts in affirmation, moving towards you, but instead of reaching for the mug, he loops an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. He buries his face in your neck, beard scraping against your skin as he sighs. âDidnât like wakinâ up with you not there,â he breathes into your hair, his voice so low you almost donât hear him.
âSorry,â you whisper. âI didnât want to disturb you.â
âSâokay,â he says softly, pressing the lightest of kisses just under your ear. âNext time, wake me.â
Your heart stutters against your ribs at his open display of affection, the softness and warmth in which he holds you, and the promise behind his words. From over his shoulder you see Charles give you a slight nod, a bright smile on his face before he turns his attention back to the newspaper in front of him.
You think back to what Charles told you all those months ago, about how you were a home for Logan. Those words echo in your mind as you feel Loganâs steady weight against you. Heâs so different now, soft and unguarded and in that moment you know.
Youâre home, too.
#logan howlett#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x you#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett fic#logan howlett fanfiction#logan x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x fem!reader#wolverine smut#wolverine x men#wolverine fanfiction#old man logan#old man logan x reader#old man logan smut#logan x you
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Oc: Mayhem (transformers)
1. [are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?]
Like many other Decepticons she had a mainly purple color palette, though after leaving the 'con army she began to veer into more greys, various purples, 'n some yellow as well in her paint jobs (kinda like a Megatronus color palette)
2. [what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favorite song?]
Absolutely LOVES rock 'n rap! 'Keep their heads ringin', 'Rollin', 'X gon give it to ya', 'The choice is yours', 'Till I collapse', 'No sleep till Brooklyn'
3. [weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?]
Prefers blasters that she herself makes (being a weapons specialist/engineer) even if they don't always work the best. She's currently workin' on makin' a blaster that can also change into a sword (likely will never work)
4. [how crafty/resourceful are they?]
She is incredibly crafty 'n can make a weapon out of just about anythin', she specifically loves building weapons or items to make missions more fun for her chaotic self.
5. [how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?]
She has spikes naturally formed on her helm but she added ones to her shoulders. She also likes comic stickers, 'n caution tape, as she heard they looked cool in human culture.
6. [how do they wear their hair? do they care a lot how their hair looks?]
No hair, just helm lol
7. [favorite animal? why?]
She likes platypuses.. cause, like- they are mammals but lay eggs? How? HOW???
8. [do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?]
Bullet (from her brother. Y'can probably guess why she's called Bullet)
9. [favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?]
She'll literally eat anythin'- even if she ain't supposed to đ
10. [if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favorite gem?]
She likes any yellow stones/crystals as they remind her of her brother's optics
11. [what do they have in common with you?]
Fear of attachment/abandonment as well as love for buildin' things (same fam, same..)
12. [how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?]
Birthdays aren't really somthin' she's accustomed to celebratin'.. (also, cybertronian age is pretty confusin' so just think of her as a 17 year old in human standards)
13. [what languages do they speak? how fluently?]
Cybertronian, basic alien dialect, can learn any language by goin' through databases as well as mimickin' accents.
14. [are they any good with numbers?]
Ehh.. so/so
15. [how big or small is their family? who did they live with growing up? do they live with anyone now?]
The actual size of her family is yet to be known as she was raised by her brother. Neither of them truly never knew their sire or carrier 'n had been on the move constantly throughout their childhood.
16. [do they have any pets? what do they call their pets?]
She isn't allowed to have pets yet until she learns to be more careful with her large frame đ (she's already accidentally crushed multiple things)
17. [how did they spend their summers/free time as a child?]
As a sparklin' / young teen she spent most of her time on buildin' random projects, her first successful build bein' a hoverboard like invention (before she learned how to transform properly)
18. [their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?]
All can be reasonable dependin' on the situation you're in.
19. [are they quick to anger? what sets them off?]
She's a bit of a hothead 'n can easily be set off when someone mocks her or her inventions.
20. [if applicable, can they drive? if they have their own, what color is their vehicle? is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?]
She definitely drives like a drag racer 'n not so surprisingly becomes very competitive if she's actually challenged to a race. (Her alt mode is a deep purple custom '69 Ford Mustang Mach 1)
21. [their favorite place to be?]
She likes the mountains, finds the snow to be beautiful 'n peaceful durin' winter.
22. [do they sleep well at night?]
Depends on the night/ how hard she'd worked prior. Sometimes she'll fall into recharge rather quickly, other times she won't or she'll be jolted awake from dreams.
23. [how would you describe their voice? can they sing?]
She loves to project the voice of the singer she's listenin' to through her own vocalizer, pretendin' that she's the one actually singin'. She often switches through accents 'n speaks pretty fast, so it can be a bit hard to understand at times.
24. [do they have any creative hobbies? art, writing, music, etc]
Loves art, engineerin', 'n music.
25. [how good/bad is their hearing? what about their eyesight?]
She has very sharp hearin' 'n pretty good sight, though one time she'd almost lost her optics in a fight.
26. [how do they move? are they clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids?]
She's far too strong 'n flexible for her own good which only boosts her already huge ego, often gettin' to her head 'n causin' her to do very reckless things durin' battle, sometimes old Decepticon habits come into play 'n she goes overboard.
27. [if applicable, do they have a favorite sport they play any sports or prefer to watch?]
Boxin' 'n racin'. Gets WAY too competitive.
(Might do the last few questions some other time..)
i wanted to make an oc ask game đ things i like to ask people abt their characters:
are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?
what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favorite song?
weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?
how crafty/resourceful are they?
how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?
how do they wear their hair? do they care a lot how their hair looks?
favorite animal? why?
do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?
favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?
if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favorite gem?
what do they have in common with you? how are they different? would you get along with them?
how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?
what languages do they speak? how fluently?
are they any good with numbers?
how big or small is their family? who did they live with growing up? do they live with anyone now?
do they have any pets? what do they call their pets?
how did they spend their summers/free time as a child?
their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?
are they quick to anger? what sets them off?
if applicable, can they drive? if they have their own, what color is their vehicle? is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?
their favorite place to be?
do they sleep well at night?
how would you describe their voice? can they sing?
do they have any creative hobbies? (art, writing, music, etc)
how good/bad is their hearing? what about their eyesight?
how do they move? are they clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids?
if applicable, do they have a favorite sport? do they play any sports or prefer to watch?
how do they show that they care about someone? how do they express that they don't like someone?
are they associated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?
do they smell like anything notable?
do they like receiving gifts? giving gifts? what is their ideal gift?
do they have any habits that aren't particularly self-destructive, just maybe odd?
if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them.
how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are.
do they ever return home?
#maysocs#mayhem#long post#oc info#transformers oc#traditional art#transformers g1#transformers#transformers generation one#transformers one#transformers bayverse#autobots#decepticons#wreckers#cybertronians
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its extremely important, i would say even vital to learn about queer history. do not use what i'm about to say as an excuse to ignore our history, however i feel like i need to point something out, because i get a lot and i mean a LOT of questions asking if there are books written on every single queer identity and i have to point out that while it's extremely important to try to look to the past for validation in the present, it's also extremely important to realize that not every single queer experience has to have a long well documented history in order for it to be seen as "valid"
in many places in the world, even writing about being queer can be grounds for being jailed or killed. it's not always safe or practical to publish books, zines, or other written works when it comes to various queer identities. even in places where it is safe, not every single identity is going to be covered and written about. not every queer person feels the desire to write about their experience and not every queer person wants to be immortalized for being queer. this is extremely important to consider
also, queerness is based in identity. identity does not need empirical evidence in order to be legitimate. it may not be easy to find books on certain identities, but that doesn't mean they're not real. as important as it is to refer to books and the writings by other queers, it's also extremely important to not leverage literacy and the ability to publish books and/or zines against certain people and identities. just because there aren't books or comics or poems written about certain identities doesn't mean you can't view them as legitimate.
queerness is not like a scientific theory. it does not need to be proven. it does not need evidence. you do not have to prove that other queer people of the same identity exist in order for your identity to be valid. do NOT use this as an excuse to refuse to learn about queer history, but also do not look down on queer people whose identities don't have books written about them, either. remember that queerness is illegal in many, many places in the world. not every experienced can be published and written about. that's okay.
basically what i'm trying to say is don't use a lack of written records to dismiss certain queer identities or even misgender people. that person's anecdotes, that person's stories are still worth listening to. it doesn't matter that you personally haven't heard of other people identifying that way. don't use books and literature against individual queers. don't weaponize the lack of published work against people with complex or niche identities. having books and sources to refer to is an incredible resource, but that's not why they're there. they're not there so you can refer to them and go "a-hah, this is irrefutable proof that x group of queer people don't exist!" they're there so you can learn about some of the beautiful experiences humanity has to offer.
queer literature and history is important, but just because we don't have proof of something being reflected in the past doesn't mean it's not legitimate in the present. there were periods in time before these books and records that we refer to were published. it doesn't mean the people who came before these works weren't queer, and that their identities weren't legitimate. there have always been queer people as long as humans have existed and it's honestly very shitty to spit in the faces of everyone who came before the common sources we have to refer to today. they were still queer even if they had no books to refer to. queerness is not a science. it's okay to accept someone even if they can't provide you with piles and piles and piles of proof that their identity should be allowed to exist.
you don't necessarily need a "source" to prove that queer identities exist. the "source" is humanity. the "source" is lived experience. don't ever stop learning about our history, but don't use a lack of written records against other queer people. it helps no one. thanks. hope that made sense.
#lgbtqia#lgbtq#lgbt#queer#gay#lesbian#bisexual#trans#transgender#intersex#nonbinary#transmasculine#trans man#ftm#genderqueer#transmasc#mtf#trans woman#trans women#transfemme#transfeminine#transfem#pansexual#our writing
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Bestfriend's Sister
Pairing : Mingyu Ă afab reader
Synopsis : in which mingyu has a crush on his best friend's sister but is too scared to ask her out ;)
Genre : short story, smut
Warnings : size k!nk, creampie, boob play, drinking, masturbat!on
[ New author, so if there are any mistakes let me know, will try to improve ]
-------------------------------------------
Chapter 1 : Meeting you again
Mingyu sat at his desk, the glow of his laptop illuminating the darkened dorm room. His notes sprawled chaotically across the table, mirroring the chaos in his mind. College life wasn't the smooth path everyone had promised.
"Just get into SNU," they said.
"Life will be set." Those words now felt like a cruel joke.
Surrounded by prodigies and overachievers, he often wondered if he truly belonged. Balancing academics, friendships, and the rare moments of self-care had become an exhausting juggling act.
And just when he thought it couldn't get more complicated, fate threw him a curveball.
At the 2024 fresher's party, amidst the crowd of enthusiastic new faces, his heart froze. There she wasâhis crush. The girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart years ago now stood a few feet away, laughing effortlessly with a group of freshmen. Mingyu's pulse quickened as a wave of disbelief washed over him.
"What is she doing here?" he muttered under his breath. For years, he'd assumed she would follow her brother's footsteps and study abroad. Her brotherâhis best friendâhad often talked about how their family prioritized prestigious overseas education. Seeing her here, in his university, was the last thing Mingyu expected. It wasn't just her presence that threw him off. It was the tangled web of emotions that came with it.
Mingyu had long accepted that his feelings for her were off-limits. She wasn't just any girl; she was his best friend's sister. And if there was one unspoken rule in his life, it was this: never break the bro code.
He could already hear his friend's voice in his head, joking yet firm: "You even think about my sister, and I'll kill you, dude." It wasn't an actual threatâprobablyâbut Mingyu had never dared to test it. Yet, seeing her now, radiant and completely unaware of the storm she'd just stirred in his heart, made things infinitely harder. As the evening wore on, he tried to act normal. To blend into the crowd. But his eyes kept drifting back to her. She looked differentânot the high schooler he remembered but someone more confident, more vibrant.Â
"Why now? Why here?" he thought. Life was already overwhelming, and now he had to deal with this? But deep down, he knew the truth. He wasn't mad because she was here. He was mad because, for the first time, he couldn't ignore the possibility of something more. And that scared him more than failing his next midterm.
"Eoh? Mingyu oppa?" Sera's voice broke through the noise of the crowded room. Her eyes lit up as she smiled at him, her face the perfect blend of surprise and warmth.
"It's been so long, right?" Mingyu froze for a moment, caught off guard by how effortlessly she drew his attention. Rubbing the back of his neckâa nervous habit he couldn't seem to shakeâhe managed a coy smile.
"Yeah, it has," he replied, his voice quieter than he intended. A brief silence settled between them, the kind that felt heavier than it should. Mingyu scrambled for something to say, anything to fill the growing gap. "Congrats," he finally offered, his tone sincere. "Getting into SNU's med school isn't easy. You must've worked really hard."
"Thank you, oppa." Sera's smile widened, her cheeks slightly tinged with pink.
Before either of them could say more, a loud voice cut through the moment. "SERA-YAH!" Her friends were calling from the other side of the party, their laughter and energy adding to the lively chaos of the party. Sera glanced over her shoulder before turning back to Mingyu.
"I think they're waiting for you," Mingyu said, his tone gentle but his expression unreadable. She hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to stay or go. "You're right. I'll see you later, oppa," she said with a small nod before heading toward her friends.
Mingyu watched her retreating figure, her laughter blending into the noise of the party. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair again, the familiar ache in his chest returning.
------------------
Some weeks later
"Bro, let's win this game," Joo Hyuk said, clapping Mingyu on the shoulder, his eyes brimming with determination.
"Yeah, let's do this!" Mingyu replied, his voice full of energy as he tightened his shoelaces and jogged onto the field.
The match between SNU's engineering department and the medicine department had drawn a sizable crowd, the atmosphere electric with cheers and chants. From the whistle's blow, it was clear this wasn't going to be an easy game. Both teams played fiercely, each pass and tackle charged with adrenaline.
It was neck-and-neck, the score tied until the final moments. Then, with a perfectly timed pass from Joo Hyuk, Mingyu seized the opportunity. With a sharp kick, the ball soared past the goalkeeper and into the net.
The engineering department erupted into cheers, their players rushing to huddle around Mingyu, who was grinning ear to ear. "We did it!" he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of celebration.
On the sidelines, Sera watched the scene unfold with a smile. The medicine department's supporters were quieter now, some already drifting toward the exit. She turned to her friends and laughed lightly, saying, "I guess we'll have to cheer a lot louder for our medicine department next time."
Mingyu, still catching his breath, heard her words over the noise. He glanced toward her, his grin softening. Her laugh, her effortless charm.
It wasn't the words that caught him off guard but her outfit â her cheerleading outfit.Â
The way the uniform fit her, or how the vibrant red skirt clung to her thighs, drawing his eyes in an almost magnetic pull. It was the sheer presence she exuded from across the field that captivated him.
Mingyu had always been aware of her beauty, under the stadium lights, she was a vision that sent a rush of heat through him. Every leap, every sway of her hips was a siren call, pulling him in deeper despite the distance.
He gulped hard, trying to focus on the other celebrating their victory, but distraction had a way of creeping in when least expected. Mingyu felt an undeniable pressure building within him, an urgency that demanded his attention. "Oh shit, not now," he muttered under his breath, realizing he couldn't ignore the undeniable reaction his body was having any longer. The heat radiating from his cheeks was felt in more than just his face.
He excused himself, the camaraderie of his teammates drowning in the chaos of his thoughts as he slipped away towards the washroom. Once inside, he swiftly closed the door behind him, locking it with an almost desperate urgency. The small space was eerily quiet, but in the stillness, the rush of blood in his ears was deafening.
With shaky hands, he fumbled with his pants, feeling the strain of his arousal pressing tightly against the fabric. The image of Sera in that unforgettable outfit - the way it hugged her curves, the glimpses of her pale skin - played behind his eyelids. It was intoxicating, igniting a fire within him that was impossible to suppress.
As he freed himself, his breath quickened, the need to release the tension almost overwhelming. He thought of her laughter, the way she sparkled with energy, and the sight of her moving gracefully with each cheer. Each thought sent shivers through him, and he couldn't help but quicken his pace.
Mingyu leaned against the cool tiles of the wall, consumed by the moment, lost in his mind as the outside world faded away. In that tiny sanctuary, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy, letting the image of Sera dance across his thoughts, a vibrant whirl of red and gold that pushed him closer to the edge.
Chapter 2 : Pride First
Mingyu stepped out of the washroom, his face flushed, beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He ran a hand through his damp hair, avoiding Joo Hyuk's gaze as he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed.
Joo Hyuk shot him a side-eye, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. "Seriously, dude? GET SOME PUSSY MAN," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I didn't come to the washroom to hear my roommate release himself in the university washroom,"Â Joo Hyuk continued.Â
"Sorry", Mingyu mumbled, his ears burning as he hurriedly brushed past Joo Hyuk.
Behind him, Joo Hyuk shook his head, muttering to himself, "This guy... hopeless.".Â
-----------------------------
Two weeks had passed since that day, and Mingyu had made it his mission to avoid Sera. He steered clear of the med department entirely, choosing routes and spots where he knew he wouldn't run into her. It wasn't easy, but he convinced himself it was necessary.
That afternoon, he sat in the bustling campus canteen, savoring his boba and relishing a rare moment of peace. The sweet tapioca pearls were a small comfort in an otherwise chaotic schedule.
But peace was fleeting.
"Mingyu oppa!"
Her voice rang out, bright and unmistakable. His heart sank as he looked up to see Sera rushing toward him, her long hair flowing behind her, her smile as radiant as ever.
Mingyu forced a small, polite smile, his grip tightening on his drink. "Oh, hey, Sera."
"This weekend, can I go home with you?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes hopeful. "My mom sent something for your mom, and she told me to give it to her directly."
Mingyu hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He scratched the back of his head, trying to buy himself a second to think. "Oh, um, sorry, but I'm not going home this weekend," he said, his voice as nonchalant as he could manage.
Sera tilted her head, her expression puzzled. "Huh? But you go home every weekend," she said, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Yeah, I know," he replied, quickly averting his gaze. "But I've got this big project to work on. You can go without me, though."
Her smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, nodding. "Oh, okay. I see."
Before she could say anything more, Mingyu stood, grabbing his cup. "I've got to get going. I'll see you around, Sera," he said hurriedly and walked off, leaving her standing there.Â
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That weekend, Sera found herself standing in front of the Kim family's home. She rang the doorbell, clutching the small package her mother had given her. Moments later, the door swung open.
"What took you so long?" came a familiar voice, half-scolding, half-teasing. Mingyu's mother stood in the doorway, her expression softening the instant she saw Sera. "Oh, it's you, Sera! I thought it was Mingyu."
Sera offered a polite bow and a small smile. "Hello, auntie. Sorry to drop by unannounced."
"Nonsense! Come in, come in," Mrs. Kim said warmly, stepping aside to let her in. "It's always a pleasure to see you."
Once inside, the comforting scent of freshly brewed tea filled the air. Mrs. Kim led Sera to the living room, gesturing for her to sit. "Honey!" she called out toward the garden. "Look who's here!"
Mr. Kim emerged a moment later, wiping his hands on a towel. His face lit up when he saw her. "Ah, Sera! What a nice surprise. Come, have a seat," he said, pulling out a chair for her.
Sera couldn't help but smile at their warmth. "Thank you, uncle. I came to drop something off from my mom," she explained, holding up the package.
"What is it?" Mrs. Kim asked, curiosity flickering in her eyes as she watched Sera carefully unwrap the package.
As the final layer of wrapping came off, Mr. Kim leaned in for a better look. "Omo!" She exclaimed, her tone filled with surprise and admiration.
Inside lay a pristine, carefully preserved 30-year-old ginseng root, its rich golden hue a testament to its value.
"Mom heard that you weren't feeling well recently," Sera explained with a soft smile. "She said this 30-year-old ginseng would be perfect for you and insisted I bring it over."
Mrs. Kim's hand flew to her chest, her eyes widening. "Omo, Sera! This is so expensive. You didn't have to go through all this trouble!"
"Please, just take it," Sera said, her tone gentle but firm. "Mom would be upset if you didn't."
Mrs. Kim glanced at her husband, who nodded approvingly, a proud smile playing on his lips. "Your family is always so thoughtful," Mrs. Kim said, her voice tinged with gratitude. "Thank you, Sera. This means so much to me."
"Of course, auntie," Sera replied. "Mom said your health is more important than anything."
Mr. Kim chuckled warmly. "Looks like your mom has great timing. This will definitely help her feel better."
Mrs. Kim placed the ginseng back into its wrapping with care, her expression softening. "You must stay for dinner, Sera. I won't take no for an answer."
Sera laughed lightly and nodded, her heart warmed by the sincerity of their gratitude.
"I don't understand why Mingyu didn't come home," Mrs. Kim said, her brows knitted as she placed another dish on the dinner table. "He told me just last Monday that he'd be coming back to pick up some important things."
She sighed, her frustration evident. "He should have at least given us a call," she added, shaking her head.
Sera, seated across from them, glanced up from her plate. "Oppa said he had a project to work on," she said casually between bites, trying to downplay the situation.
"Project?" Mr. Kim interjected, his fork pausing mid-air. "What project? He told me just last week that he was finally free because his project was done." He frowned thoughtfully. "Did the professors give him another one so soon?"
Mrs. Kim crossed her arms, her expression softening into mild concern. "Something doesn't add up. He's usually so responsible about keeping us informed."
Sera's thoughts clouded as she processed the conversation. Mingyu was avoiding herâshe knew that muchâbut to go to such lengths to steer clear of her? That realization hit harder than she expected.
She forced herself to finish dinner quickly, the food tasting bland against the turmoil in her mind.
"It would've been nice if you stayed the night," Mrs. Kim said warmly as Sera got up to leave.
"Next time, Auntie," Sera replied with a polite smile, bowing deeply before stepping out of the house.
The moment she was outside, the weight of her thoughts bore down on her. "Does he really hate spending time with his best friend's little sister this much? Am I... that embarrassing?"
"Fine," Sera muttered under her breath, clenching her fists as she walked to the bus stop. "If I'm that embarrassing, then I'll avoid him too. I'm Jeon Sera, after all."
Her voice carried a defiant edge, as if saying it aloud would make her resolve stronger. She straightened her shoulders, forcing herself to hold her head high as the bus pulled up.
The ride back to the college dorms was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional chatter of other passengers. Sera stared out the window, the city lights blurring past her.
"If he doesn't want to see me, then so be it," she thought, though a small pang of hurt lingered in her chest. "I've got my pride too."
Chapter 3 : Make Him Jealous
Three weeks had passed since Mingyu last saw Sera. At first, when he was avoiding her, he'd still catch glimpses of her around campusâa fleeting silhouette in the crowd, her laughter echoing in the distance. But now, it was as if she had vanished into thin air.
Not once did he see her near the library, the canteen, or even the med department corridors.
Mingyu adjusted his bag on his shoulder, glancing around the campus grounds as he walked to class. The familiar buzz of students chatting and rushing past him felt oddly hollow. He shook his head, trying to push the thought away.
"I guess it's for the best," he muttered under his breath, his words lacking the conviction he wanted them to carry.
"Bro, wanna party after class?" Joo Hyuk leaned over, grinning as he nudged Mingyu.
"Nah, I'm fine," Mingyu replied, shaking his head.
"Come on, man," Joo Hyuk pressed, but before he could push further, the professor entered the room, silencing the chatter. Mingyu turned his attention to the front, zoning in on whatever physics the professor was explaining.
When the bell rang, signaling a break, Joo Hyuk was already on his feet. "Oh, finally a break! Come on, let's roam around the campus."
"It's just 15 minutes," Mingyu argued, opening his book. "What's the point of going out?"
Joo Hyuk rolled his eyes. "I'm not hearing all that." Without waiting for another word, he grabbed Mingyu's arm and dragged him out of the classroom.
"Damn, it's sunny," Joo Hyuk groaned, shielding his eyes as they walked toward the canteen. Once inside, he headed straight for the cashier. "Two iced Americanos, please."
While Joo Hyuk waited, Mingyu wandered near the seating area, his eyes scanning the room. He paused mid-step when he saw her. Sera.
"Oppa?" Her familiar voice rang out, accompanied by a bright smile as she moved in his direction. Mingyu froze, his heart skipping a beat.
But just as quickly, reality hit him. Sera walked past him without a second glance. Mingyu blinked, confused, and turned around to see her approaching someone elseâa tall guy standing behind him.
"Oppa, can I borrow your biochemistry notes?" Sera asked the tall guy, her tone warm and friendly.
"Sure," the guy, Sera's senior, Jin Sun Ho, replied with a casual smile. "But, Sera, I'm afraid you won't be able to read my handwriting. How about I help you with them in the library?"
Sera laughed lightly. "That sounds great, thanks!" The two walked out of the canteen together, chatting as they left.
Mingyu was still staring after them when Joo Hyuk returned, handing him an iced Americano. "Woah," Joo Hyuk said, watching the pair disappear through the door. "Looks like the med school god and goddess are finally hitting it off."
"What do you mean?" Mingyu asked, his voice unintentionally sharp.
Joo Hyuk raised an eyebrow. "Do you live under a rock? Jin Sun Ho is the med school's godâsmart, handsome, and rich. And Sera? She's the goddess. Pretty, brilliant, and, well, rich. Everyone's been saying they'd make the perfect couple."
He sipped his drink, oblivious to the way Mingyu's grip tightened on his cup. Mingyu said nothing, his eyes lingering on the door where Sera and Jin Sun Ho had just left.Â
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"Your handwriting isn't that bad, oppa," Sera said with a small smile as she diligently copied down the notes. Her pen moved swiftly across the page while Sun Ho leaned slightly closer, pointing out key terms and concepts.
Sun Ho chuckled softly, resting his chin in his hand as he watched her work. "Maybe you just have extraordinary deciphering skills," he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Most people look at my notes and call them hieroglyphics.
Sera laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Well, I guess I have a knack for cracking your code," she replied, glancing up at him briefly before focusing back on the page.
"Or maybe you're just too kind to admit how terrible my handwriting actually is," Sun Ho quipped with a grin, tapping the edge of the notebook.
Sera shook her head, her lips curving into a soft smile. "No, really. It's not bad at all. And your explanations make everything so much clearer," she said earnestly, her brown eyes meeting his.
For a moment, Sun Ho's teasing demeanor softened. "Glad I can help," he said, his tone warm. "Not everyone would put up with my chicken scratch."
"Well, I'm not just anyone," Sera said with a playful shrug, her confidence shining through as she continued writing.
"How about a selfie?" Sun Ho asked suddenly, pulling out his phone with a playful grin.
Sera looked up from the notebook, a mixture of surprise and amusement on her face. "In the library?" she whispered, stifling a giggle.
Sun Ho leaned in closer, angling the camera to fit both of them in the frame. "Relax," he said with a smirk. "No one's going to say a word to me." Without waiting for her response, he snapped the photo, capturing Sera mid-laugh.
"Sun Ho!" she scolded lightly, though her smile betrayed her amusement.
He examined the picture with a satisfied nod. "Perfect. My followers are going to love this," he said as he began typing a caption.
"You're posting it?" Sera's eyes widened in mild disbelief.
"Of course," he replied, his tone casual as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Why wouldn't I?"
Sera shook her head, unable to suppress a laugh as she returned to her notes. Moments later, Sun Ho's phone buzzed with likes and comments flooding in, his followers reacting to the unexpected post.
On the screen was the caption: "Study buddies"Â .
Chapter 4 : Drunk Mingyu
"Woah, check this out," Joohyuk said, grinning as he waved his phone in front of Mingyu after their last class of the day.
Mingyu glanced down at the screen, his eyes narrowing as he saw the Instagram photo of Sera and Sun Ho standing side by side, their smiles bright and carefree. A strange feeling twisted in his chestâsomething between envy and frustrationâbut he masked it with a shrug, trying not to let it show.
"Since when did you become so invested in other people's business, huh, Joohyuk?" Mingyu asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to keep his voice casual.
Joohyuk chuckled, unfazed by Mingyu's tone. "Oh, come on, man. You need a little gossip to survive the madness that is SNU," he said, tapping his phone's screen. "Everyone's talking about this picture. It's like the campus's new hottest trend."
Mingyu rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, well, maybe I don't have the time for that kind of stuff."
"Right, of course," Joohyuk replied, his grin widening. "You're too busy being the mysterious guy who doesn't care about anything except his grades." He nudged Mingyu playfully.
Mingyu shrugged again, trying to brush off the weird fluttering in his stomach. "Just don't get too wrapped up in it, alright? We've got our own lives to focus on."
"Sure, sure," Joohyuk replied with a wink. "But you know, it's always more fun to watch the drama unfold from the sidelines."Â
Joohyuk leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Alright, enough of this. Come with me to the club and let loose for once."
Mingyu hesitated, glancing at his outfit. "Like this? My clothes are too plain, I need to change." He tried to muster an excuse, adjusting the collar of his shirt.
Joohyuk rolled his eyes, his expression turning playful but firm. "I'm not hearing any of that, man. I know you'll find a thousand reasons to back out and never show up. We're going, and we're going now."
Mingyu opened his mouth to protest, but Joohyuk was already dragging him toward the door, his grip surprisingly strong. "You're coming with me, no more excuses. Tonight's about fun, not studying."
Mingyu sighed but couldn't help the reluctant grin that crept across his face. "Fine, fine," he muttered. "But you owe me a drink for this."
Joohyuk flashed a victorious smile. "Deal."Â
The neon lights of the club flickered around them as Mingyu and Joohyuk settled into their seats, the music pulsating through the air. Mingyu was already deep in his drinks, the bitter taste of alcohol doing little to numb the ache in his chest. He stared into his glass, his heart heavy, thoughts swirling around Sera and the distance between them that felt impossible to bridge.
Joohyuk, ever the party animal, raised his eyebrows as Mingyu downed another drink in one go. "Ayo, man, slow down," Joohyuk said, his voice slightly slurred. "We have class tomorrow. You're gonna regret this."
Mingyu looked at his friend, a wry smile twisting on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "What's the point of this life if I can't be with her?" he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. He didn't care that he was starting to sound like a messâhe was already too far gone.
Joohyuk blinked, suddenly aware of the shift in Mingyu's mood. "Oh, no, not here," he groaned, slapping his palm against the table. "I brought you here to have fun, not cry over some girl you can't get over. This night is supposed to be fun, man!"
But Mingyu wasn't listening. He tipped his head back, gulping down another drink, his emotions taking over in a drunken haze. "Is there any way to make her like me?" he slurred, his eyes glassy. "I can't stand seeing her with someone else... I just... I just want her to be mine."
Joohyuk let out a low whistle. "It's kinda hard to believe that you, with that handsome face of yours, can't get a girl," he teased, leaning back in his chair, his buzz starting to kick in.
Mingyu's face crumpled again, and Joohyuk frowned, his tone shifting to concern. "Who is she? The girl that's got you all twisted up like this?"
Mingyu's words came out in a jumbled mess, and soon enough, his eyes were glistening with tears, the alcohol fueling his emotions further. "You remember my best friend... the one who studies abroad?" he began, voice cracking. "She's his..."
Joohyuk froze for a moment, eyes wide as he processed the situation. "His girlfriend?" he asked in disbelief, his lips curling into a half-smile. "Bro, you gotta be kidding me. Out of all the girls in the world, you fall for your homie's girl?"
"NO, NO!" Mingyu shot back, waving his hand in a frantic motion as his emotions overtook him again. "She's not his girlfriend!" he repeated, his voice breaking.
Joohyuk blinked. "Then what's the problem, man? If she's not with him, what's stopping you?"
Mingyu's face crumpled in despair, his voice almost a whisper as he stumbled over the words. "She... she's his sister," he confessed, his drunken state making it feel even more tragic. He pulled Joohyuk into a tight hug, his body shaking with the weight of his emotions. "I don't know what to do, man. I can't... I can't have her, but I can't stop wanting her."
Joohyuk sat there, stunned for a moment. He didn't know how to respond, his mind processing the ridiculousness of the situation. "Bro," he finally said, a slight chuckle escaping him. "You're... you're really in love with your best friend's sister? That's the problem?"
Mingyu sobbed a little more, the alcohol making everything feel more intense than it probably was. "I know, I know," he said, his voice muffled in Joohyuk's shoulder. "It's messed up. I just... I just can't stop thinking about her."
Joohyuk shook his head in disbelief.Â
Joo Hyuk, with a mischievous grin, urged Mingyu to let loose and find some companionship for the night. He grabbed the alcohol glass from Mingyu's hand, downing the remaining contents in one swift motion. "Come on, forget everything and let's hit the dance floor," Joo Hyuk said, leading the way.
Mingyu followed, his mind still hazy from the alcohol. As they stepped onto the dance floor, the pulsating beat of the music consumed them. Mingyu felt the weight of his worries melt away with each step.
Before long, Joo Hyuk had already found a companion for the night, disappearing to the other side of the club with a sly wink. Mingyu, on the other hand, was approached by a stranger.
"Hey, aren't you Mingyu Sunbae from the engineering department?" the girl asked, her voice like a melody.
Mingyu looked at her and nodded. "Nice to meet you, I'm Seyeong from the medicine department," she introduced herself, flashing a bright smile.
Before Mingyu could respond, Seyeong had already moved closer, her body swaying in time with the music. She placed her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer until their chests were touching. Mingyu was taken aback, but the alcohol coursed through his veins, numbing his senses.
Seyeong's movements were fluid, like a dance. She pressed her cleavage against his chest, making it a full display of her assets. Mingyu's mind was consumed with thoughts of Sera. In his alcohol-infused haze, he couldn't help but think that Seyeong was Sera, sent to him as an answer to his prayers.
"Want to get a room?" Seyeong whispered in his ear, her breath hot against his skin.Â
Mingyu's vision swam in a hazy blur, the flashing lights of the club illuminating the space around him. His mind felt foggy, and the alcohol had wrapped him in a warm cocoon of numbness. But then, his eyes caught somethingâor rather, someone. At the entrance of the club, standing like a figure from a dream, was her.
"Sera?" Mingyu mumbled to himself, blinking rapidly as if doing so would somehow snap him out of his daze and make everything clearer. He squinted, the familiar silhouette in front of him. He stumbled back slightly, his voice slurring as he spoke louder than he intended. "TWO TWO SERA?"
The girl in front of him, who had been dancing with him just moments before, followed his gaze, confusion painting her face as she turned her head toward the entrance. She froze for a second, processing what he said, before her own realization hit her.
"Sera?" she echoed, her voice laced with disbelief as her eyes locked on the girl Mingyu was referring to.
Mingyu, still drunk and caught in the throes of his mixed-up emotions, looked between the twoâSera at the entrance and the Sera in his arms. "Wait... no way, how come there are two Seras," he muttered under his breath.
The music seemed to throb louder in his ears as he fumbled to make sense of the situation. Seyeong's expression shifted from confusion to mild irritation, her eyes narrowing as she took a step back from him.
"Did you seriously think I was Sera this whole time?" Seyeong's voice was sharp, tinged with disbelief. She crossed her arms over her chest, her face now set in an indignant frown. "What a jerk."
Before Mingyu could say another word, she pushed him lightly but firmly away from her, the force of the motion knocking him off balance for a moment.
Seyeong shook her head, her disappointment evident, and with a final glance at Mingyu, she turned and walked off into the crowd, leaving him standing there, still trying to piece everything together.
Chapter 4 : Confrontation
As the adrenaline faded away, he found himself seeking a way out, desperate to escape the turmoil of his thoughts.
"How long are you going to keep yourself away from me?" Sera's voice sliced through the noise, confident and unwavering. Mingyu, taken aback, feigned ignorance. "I don't understand what you're talking about," he responded, but there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
Without hesitation, Sera moved closer, closing the space between them. Her hand reached for his, holding it firmly as if refusing to let him slip away. "You can drop the act now, oppa," she insisted. The tone in her voice was resolute, a stark contrast to Mingyu's hesitant demeanor.
"I heard it all," she leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. His heart raced as she held onto his neck, standing on her tiptoes to bring her face near his. Her proximity was intoxicating, yet troubling.
"You are Jeonwoo's sister. I can'tâ" Mingyu tried to back away, but Sera was relentless. She cut him off, sealing her defiance with a kiss on his cheek, a playful yet poignant gesture that sent a thrill through him. Mingyu's heart sank and soared all at once as he finally met her gaze.
"Okay, then I will go to Sunho Oppa," she teased, her demeanor flipping from assertive to mischievous in an instant as she turned to walk away. The implication of her words hit Mingyu like a freight train. His grip instinctively tightened around her wrist, pulling her back to him.
"Please, Sera," he pleaded, his expression shifting to one that could only be described as puppy-like, eyes wide with a mix of desperation and longing. The playful banter began melting away, leaving behind the raw emotion that had bubbled just beneath the surface.Â
"Then tell me," Sera said suddenly, her voice soft yet filled with an urgency that made Mingyu's heart race. In that moment, he felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.
Mingyu looked deeper into her eyes, a vibrant mix of curiosity and vulnerability reflecting back at him. It felt as if time had come to a standstill; the noise of the bar faded into the background, leaving only the two of them in a bubble of fleeting possibility. A sudden wave of courage surged through him, igniting a fire within that he had kept at bay for far too long. Without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
The kiss was electricâa culmination of longing and love, a blending of dreams that had been waiting for this moment to manifest. Their lips brushed against each other with a tender urgency, savoring every fleeting second, as if trying to grasp a moment that could slip away at any instant. In that enchantment, everything else ceased to exist, and all they could feel was each other.
"I like you," Mingyu confessed, his breath mingling with hers in between kisses, each word carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid feelings. The revelation hung in the air, both exhilarating and terrifying, yet it felt right.
Sera pulled back for just a moment, her eyes sparkling with surprise and delight. "We can continue at the hotel room," she said, a playful smile curling her lips.
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The hotel room door creaked open, the sound amplifying the electric atmosphere that buzzed between Mingyu and Sera. As they crossed the threshold, their lips met in a fervent kiss that seemed to encapsulate the world outsideâone that held no constraints or responsibilities. Nothing else existed in that moment but the two of them, lost in each other's embrace.
With a swift kick, Mingyu nudged the door shut, intent on carving out a little world where only they mattered. He traced Sera's delicate figure with admiration, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. The nearby table became their temporary sanctuary as he gently set her down, still locked in a passionate kiss. "You are too short; my neck hurts," he murmured playfully, yet his eyes spoke of hunger, desire.
Sera, feeling emboldened, wrapped her legs around his waist, a teasing move that brought their bodies even closer. The heat between them ignited as Mingyu's hands found their way to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off to reveal his toned physique. To him, she was petite and enchanting, every curve inviting exploration.
Their lips collided once more, becoming lost in the rhythm of soft sighs and heated breaths. Mingyu's hands, skilled yet gentle, began to undress Sera, each layer he shed revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her form. As he unclasped her bra, he feasted his eyes on her plump breasts, a sight that made his heart race with insatiable desire.
Mingyu leaned down, his mouth enveloping her soft skin, a rush of adrenaline coursing through him as he lavished her with attention. His hands wandered, finding their way to her clit through her clothing, caressing her softly. Sera responded with soft moans, a sound he felt in the depths of his being, urging him on.
As passion thickened the air, Mingyu's urgency grew. He quickly shed his pants and retrieved a condom from the drawer, his determination evident. Positioning himself at her entrance, he locked eyes with her, seeking her silent permission as he began to enter her slowly, their lips brushing together in a tumultuous dance.
With each thrust, a primal intensity enveloped them both. Moments turned to a haze of sweat and ecstasyâMingyu transformed, becoming both lover and beast, a force of nature that left Sera breathless beneath him. "Ah, fuck," she gasped, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through her.
As they reached the precipice of their desires, Mingyu shifted her position, bending her over the table. Sera felt the cool surface against her skin, a stark contrast to the fervent heat igniting in her core. "Sera-ah," he moaned, hands gripping her waist, driving deeper with each rhythm.
Their bodies moved in perfect synchrony, the tempo rising as their breaths grew heavier. Mingyu sensed the climax approaching, a rush of exhilaration. With one final thrust, he pulled out, a guttural moan escaping his lips as he released onto her skin. At that moment, time seemed to suspendâtheir eyes met, and Sera's gaze sparkled with an innocent allure as she too reached her peak, a beautiful symphony shared between them.Â
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As the steam from the bathroom lingered in the air, Mingyu stepped out of the shower, water droplets cascading down his toned frame. The casual, effortless nature of his appearance was endearing, yet it evoked an unexpected shyness in him.
"Don't look at me like that," he said, a playful edge to his voice, as he caught Sera's gaze from across the room.
Wiping her hair with a towel, Sera chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Whoa, look at you getting shy after all this," she teased.Â
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Two weeks had flown by since that steamy night in the hotel room. And in the aftermath of their passionate escapade, Sera had become a frequent visitor to Mingyu's room. With Joo Hyuk often occupied with his part time job, the two had explored the thrilling dynamics of secrecy, indulging in their hidden desires whenever the opportunity arose. Each rendezvous was charged with excitementâa dance of passion that ignited every corner of Mingyu's otherwise mundane days.
Today, however, was different. Mingyu was on a mission to pick up his best friend, Wonwoo, from the airport.
As he arrived at the bustling airport, he spotted Wonwoo making his way through the terminal.
"Brother!" Mingyu called out, his face lighting up in a broad smile as they both rushed to embrace each other. It felt good, the familiar warmth of friendship rekindled after a few months apart. "Missed ya," Mingyu said, clapping Wonwoo on the back before helping him with his luggage.
"Why did you only call me to pick you up?" Mingyu probed as they loaded the bags into the car's trunk, genuinely curious about his friend's whirlwind life abroad.
"Mom and Dad's 30th anniversary is coming up, and I want to give them a surprise," Wonwoo replied, excitement bubbling over in his voice. It was classic Wonwooâthoughtful and family-oriented, proud of planning something truly special.
Once settled into the Uber, the chaotic energy of the ride kicked in. Wonwoo dove into a barrage of stories about living abroadâthe food, the people, the experiencesâbut amidst the laughter and reminiscing, he posed an unexpected question that made Mingyu's heart race for an entirely different reason.
"Ah, by the way, do you know which jerk is dating my sister?" Wonwoo asked, casually leaning back in his seat. The smoothness of his nonchalant tone did not betray the depth of the question.
Mingyu felt the color drain from his face. Coughing splutteringly, he quickly grabbed the water bottle beside him to take a sipâa feeble attempt to mask his reaction.
"Like, two weeks ago, I saw my credit card was used to bill at a hotelâthe same card I had given to my sister," Wonwoo continued, his voice laced with incredulity. Mingyu's heart raced again. If only he knew...
"You know it would've been better if you were dating my sister, can't trust her with the jerks nowadays", Wonwoo casually said.
The neurological pathways of panic ignited as Mingyu choked once more on his drink, causing a cascade of water to spill across the upholstery of the Uber. The driver shot a frustrated look through the rearview mirror, and Mingyu hastily apologized while trying to wipe away the mess with his sleeve.
#mingyu smut#seventeen#seventeen smut#kpop fanfic#kpop smut#minghao smut#seungcheol fanfic#mingyu x reader#mingyu fanfic#bts fanfic#jjk smut#seventeen scenarios
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David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:
"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."
"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."
"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." đ
And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. đ"
[source thread]
User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "Iâm not sorry about the novel cancellation. Iâm the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldnât make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]
User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]
#dragon age#bioware#fenris#the fenaissance#video games#long post#longpost#cole#spirit boy#solas#dragon age 5
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DAI, DA2, DAO are flawed masterpieces but they all thematically feel deeply similar.
veilguard dookied all over the dark spiritual/ moral/ religious themes of DA by erasing slavery, the bigotry of and towards the elves (dalish in particular), sidelining andrastianism, ignoring the dwarves apart from harding's questline, and HR-ifying the writing.
where was slavery in tevinter, the literal slave capital of thedas, apart from the existence off the shadow dragons (who must be doing a really good job btw bc slavery and the impact of it is basically not a thing), and in scenes w venatori where they're using slaves as benches in this weirdly-comical-dismissive way?
where was the nuance and moral greyness in how some people sell themselves into slavery or join the qun to escape poverty and lives that would otherwise be a lot less structured and even comfortable, and the cognitive dissonance that fact gives us? where was the "slaves are illiterate so they communicate with symbols" underground slave rebellion?
the most we get of solas and his thousands-of-years-long slave-freeing mission is a comment from neve about the chains in his hideout, we see nothing about how fen'harel freed slaves as basically a lifelong purpose of his, and how many of those freed-people dedicated their lives to that mission, joining him in his cause. solas would have had other people helping him out with this, he would have had a structured slave-freeing organization, he probably would still be using the lighthouse for this, but the most we get is "crusty wifeless bachelor pad" solas all alone. did he tell everyone to fuck off, like what happened there? why was solas soooooo alone, when he literally had cultists in trespasser and logically would have EVEN MORE cultists now? i understand he's mentally and emotionally alone, but an ancient elven god who has built a slave-freeing operation he would not be so physically alone, he'd have tons of people obsessed w his mission.
making the only dalish we encounter these veil jumpers that we have no connection or care for unless we read some books is lazy, and these dalish don't seem to care that their thousands-of-years-old faith that their entire culture is founded on is being demolished before their eyes, the DREAD FUCKING WOLF is back (one of their literal gods, and he's been back for like 12 years and many of them have joined him - where are thooooose dalish?), the dalish in VG are perfectly fine working with humans (the very ones who exalted-marched all over them, humans that rape and pillage them, humans that oppress and subjugate them, humans the dalish have canonically hunted down and killed - just for being human - in past games). the dalish are canonically shitty people who are also massively subjugated, are victims of their own hubris, victims of a war they started and lost and never got over, victims of their own bigotry, victims of their own misinterpreted and forgotten lore. while they have a right to be victims, it's never talked about how fucking revolutionary it is if any dalish/ elven hero of the past games (warden or inquisitor) was able to overcome the biases of their culture and heal, and work together with humans (inquisition did this really well for Dalish Inquisitors btw). the dalish being as forgiving and open as the veil jumpers are should be a bigger deal and have a major story reason behind it because healing thousands of years of trauma in a decade is impressive (fake).
#i just need to write this god damn fic#FINE#solas posting#dragon age#datv#dragon age the veilguard#veilguard spoilers#datv spoilers#solas dragon age#dragon age inquisition#solas#solas dai#dragon age solas#dragon age: the veilguard#veilguard#dragon age veilguard#da: the veilguard#veilguard critical
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âïžMild arcane spoilers âïž
Miiight ruffle some feathers.
Not EVEN going to lie, unnecessary ship wars aside, the fan base has developed such a deep love and understanding for these characters (because letâs be honest, there are some pretty intelligent people giving eye opening analyses) that after the finale, it appears that we have a better understanding of them than the actual writers.
We deserved better as the audience after all the hype over the years, all the waiting, even after some episodes got leaked a while ago, most of us remained respectful and waited to see what this season would bring us. The core characters ABSOLUTELY deserved better as well.
It felt as if I was watching all of the charactersâ development be erased in real time, or become sidelined and nearly mute after being propped up to appear as if they were going to have a significant arc.
With the amount of episodes we had, it felt like they were trying to cram a bunch of different storylines into one 9 episode season and that left us with annoying plot holes and rushed sequences.
And Iâm just gonna say it.
If a certain relationship needed to be sacrificed if it meant that other characters had the proper development they needed and DESERVED, then I would have preferred that much, MUCH more than that undercooked finale.
Donât. Even. Get me started on that caitvi scene. In the cell? Right after that conversation she had with her sister? Donât give me that nonsense about how itâs vi reclaiming her power or something. (An actual weird ass statement from Amanda Overton in a Q&A video about how that was Vi reclaiming and working through her trauma in that cell).
No apology? No groveling for forgiveness? That little argument they had lasted like five seconds and didnât even address the earlier conflict that happened in the show after cait left vi. And before any of you say âcait apologized with her actionsâ
I donât care. Two things can be true at once, she can and should have apologized directly as well as displayed that with her actions.
Moving on to Mel??? We did not nearly have enough time to explore her new abilities as a mage, her armor, and her connection to the black rose. As I said, the storylines this season should have been more refined so we could focus on a central group of characters. They did nothing but hint at her armor from the end of season 1 all the way up until now.
Also maybe Iâm hallucinating, but did we ever find out what happened to the firelightâs tree?? Thatâs one of the main reasons Ekko and Heimerdinger went to the lab isnât it? HELLO?
Next on my list, Jinx. This girl has suffered to no end.
- Lost her whole family except for Vi.
- Almost died once and was brought back to life.
- Tried to end her life several more times
And you slap us all in the face by writing her off?
âOh but she may not be GONE gone, look at the glitching at the end!"
I. Donât. Care. Itâs the principle.
Iâm sick and tired of seeing characters that struggle with mental health and keep having one bad event after another happen to them, never receiving a proper ending. What messages are the writers sending with this? That death is basically the answer because thereâs no hope for them? Cool. That was not an honorable act of self sacrifice, that was plain insulting.
Instead, if they still really wanted to have a Jinx redemption arc and a chance to rekindle her relationship with Vi, having her tap into engineering for the betterment of Zaun would have been the better route.
We should have gotten an extra extended episode since this is last season for the Piltover/Zaun region, and for Jinx and Vi's story. I really want to blame Riot for being greedy and possibly becoming too cocky with the popularity of Arcane that they think anything would suffice because It's Arcane.
#riot got greedy#arcane#league of legends#arcane league of legends#arcane ambessa#ambessa medarda#mel medarda#arcane Mel#arcane jayce#jayce talis#viktor arcane#jinx arcane#vi arcane#vander arcane#Warwick#vi and caitlyn#caitlyn arcane#hextech#timebomb#arcane silco#young silco#arcane season 2#riot games#fortiche#arcane spoilers#arcane zaun#piltover#arcane act 3#arcane act three#arcane sevika
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Biggest Fan Pt 1 - CL16
Requested by @nina-or-anna-or-nora "Heyy!! đ I saw you were asking some requests so I have one for an Smau!! (If you want to do it ofc) I was thinking about the reader being kinda like Sabrina or Olivia (a performer) and then Charles being like her biggest fanđ€just a super cute fluffy thing and he goes to every show he can or posts her and stuffđ„č"
AN - Had so much fun writing this SMAU for you! Don't be afraid to send in requests that aren't apart of the Pizza Menu! I love Sabrina but I'm not a die hard fan so I have no idea how many outfit changes she has or the order she performs so if it's a little messed up I apologize! Also LMK if you wanna see me do this with more drivers and make it a little series of the drivers being head over heels for their girl friend!
Summary: Just Charles being in love with Y/N... and basically everyone in the F1 community!
Charles insta stories over the fall break
Twitter
Charles instagram
Liked by landonorris, youruser, carlossainz, and 2,090,513 others
charlesleclerc We're ready for you Austin ft. Y/N and all the fan gifted hats that will make an appearance this weekend tagged carlossainz and youruser
user5 I love how he makes a post for work and still finds a way to get Y/N in there
user6 your honor... it's them. It's always them!
youruser I'm ready to be back in my home soil!
user7 I constantly forget our girl is from the US charlesleclerc you mean MY girl user8 Charles will never learn to share charlesleclerc not when it comes to MY Y/N youruser alright calm it down you charlesleclerc yes maam
user9 I hate feeling single but I do love you guys!
carlossainz Will I ever get a post with just us?
user10 Carlos... they're a package deal user11 If I don't expect anything less, you shouldn't either youruser damn... catching strays carlossainz Y/N I thought we were friends!
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Your insta story
user12 how does it feel to be living my dream
carlossainz he's been smiling at his phone for 10 minutes because you posted him
youruser I love knowing he loves me as much as I love him
user13 his eyes
charlesleclerc that's one lucky man
youruser he really is!
user14 I love the way you guys love each other
landonorris you guys disgust me with how cute you are together
youruser you wish this was you huh? landonorris I miss when you were to shy to interact with us... kinda a meanie youruser you'll learn to survive
Twitter
your Instagram
Liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, oliviarodrigo, and 3,092,172 others
youruser Thanks for the warm welcome home... see you in a few weeks for Vegas!
Look for a surprise tomorrow around noon YeeHaw time!
charlesleclerc Ooooo I wanna know the surprise
user18 I can't believe I have notifications on and Charles is still here before me
charlesleclerc you snooze you lose! gotta be quicker than that! youruser love you need to be a bit nicer! user18 no this is on me... I should know no matter how much I love you Charles just loves you that much more! user19 I'm sobbing at this! Charles is so unhinged when it comes to Y/N
landonorris Can I also know the surprise
charlesleclerc NO!
user20 YeeHaw time is SENDING me! For anyone confused she's talking about CST
user21 THANK YOU! It makes so much sense now that you've explained but as a non F1 Y/N fan I didn't realize she was in Texas haha
user22 I love their height difference. I forget just how SMALL Y/N is.
Your Insta Story
charlesleclerc I can't wait to watch you!!
user23 HOLY SHIT! I can't fucking wait!
user24 omg! I'm so excited for this!!
landonorris: I hope you have a ticket saved with my name on it!
youruser: I do including the rest of the grid... spread the word pleaseeee
user25: Oh to be in the US rn to experience this concert! I just know it's gonna be amazing
Twitter
Charles Insta story during the show
Max's Insta story during the show
Youruser: Max! hahaha you had me cracking up in the first slide... then tearing up through laughter in the second. Thank you so much for finding time in your title fight to support!
maxverstappen1: I wouldn't have missed it! Had to see what all the hype was about. Please invite me again
Grid Members Stories (Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Yuki, Liam, Franco)
#formula 1#f1#f1 x you#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one imagines#f1 smut#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#cl16 fic#CL16 SMAU#Charles leclerc smau#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula one smau#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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a Second Chance | Rafe Cameron x Maybank!reader
Summary: After being in a secret relationship with Rafe and becoming pregnant, he denied the entire relationship, making it known your son wasnât his. However, he canât deny it for much longer - your son is the spitting image of Rafe.Â
Part 1Â
A/N: This is a continuation of the fic above. This can be read as stand alone or you can read the other first for a bit of background on how things played out and telling Rafe you were expecting.Â
Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx
Go follow my fic rec blog! --->Â @imaginationgonewild0912
**MASTERLIST**
Requests:Â {OPEN} CLOSED
** Rules for Requesting **
** Who I Write For **
********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS
Your son's giggles were music to your ears. You smiled in adoration at his uncle JJ chasing him through the yard, his little toddler legs moving as fast as they could. He loved his uncle JJ. And his other aunts and uncles too. After all the drama with Rafe, he and the other Pogues stepped in, becoming your village and boy are you glad you had them. You wouldnât have been able to do it without them.Â
Rafe continued the story, the baby wasnât his and you were never in a relationship. However, as time has passed, people are starting to get suspicious, especially as your son grows because heâs the spitting image of Rafe. It is getting to the point, Rafe truly canât deny him.Â
âCome on boys, let's get to the beach before it gets crowded,â You call out to JJ and Jackson; the other Pogues loading up in the Twinkie. You and JJ worked hard, going in half on a car that JJ rebuilt to make it drivable. JJ knew the Twinkie wouldnât be a safe vehicle to transport his tiny nephew and made it his mission to find you something sustainable and reliable.Â
âMama!â Jackson squeals as he nears, jumping into your arms.Â
You laugh and kiss his head before placing him in his carseat and securing him. âReady to go to the beach?âÂ
He nods with a big grin; Rafeâs smile. The smile youâd fell in love with. You canât deny it doesnât hurt a little when you look at your son, because staring back is Rafe and all the hurt that came with him. But you wouldnât trade Jackson for anything in the world. Heâd brought light into your life and filled your broken heart. Jackson is so smart and intelligent, even at only 3 years old. Heâs got a sweet and loving personality and he loves when he can make you laugh. And Rafe is missing it all, time he will never get back.
~
After settling at a spot on the beach, you all unpacked, setting the chairs and umbrella up. Pope dropping the cooler under the umbrella with a grunt, âjeez what the hell did you guys pack in that thing.âÂ
Jackson started tugging you toward the water, âcome mama!âÂ
âNo baby hold on, let's put sunscreen on first. Then you can get in the water.âÂ
He pouts but stops tugging, letting you lather him in the sunscreen.Â
âOnce mama is finished me and you can go check out those waves!â Â JJ holds his fist to Jackson, who returns with a fist bump.Â
âAlright youâre finished!â You kiss him on the head and he takes off toward the water with JJ. JJ picks him up and wades into the water with him. Jackson laughing hysterically as the waves crash against them.Â
âbeer?â Kie asks, as you take a seat in the beach chair next to her.Â
"Yes thank you,â you sigh, taking a sip, âI love that the beach is nearly empty-âÂ
Loud music catches you and the other Pogues attention, watching as a couple trucks and a jeep drive thru the sand behind you. You recognized Topperâs jeep and groaned.Â
âPlease keep driving..â Sarah pleads.Â
âAnywhere but here.â Kie adds.Â
âOf course.â John B says as they stop a little ways down the beach, âThis entire beach and they pick that spot?âÂ
You take a sip of your beer, nearly choking on it as you see someone hop out of the dark blue truck. Rafe.Â
âShit.â Kie mumbles.Â
He rounds the truck and opens the passenger side, another person gets out of the truck and itâs Sofia.Â
Sarah places a gentle hand on your arm, âyou gonna be ok?âÂ
You give her a reassuring smile and nod, âYeah, yeah. Iâll be fine.â You gaze out at the ocean, JJ has noticed the kooks and he looks over at you, a look of concern on his face. You nod at him, letting him know youâre okay. He continues to play with Jackson, holding his hand as he stands with his toes in the sand, jumping over the waves as they break against the beach.Â
âWeâre both adults here. Maybe me more than him but itâs ok.â You glance between Sarah and Kie, âHeâs living his best life - while I raise our son that he denies is his.âÂ
John B squeezes your shoulders, âAnd youâre doing a damn good job at it too.âÂ
The rest of the Pogues pipe in, âHell ya you are,â âYouâre killing it.âÂ
âThanks you guys,â Your eyes dance between the Pogues, âI couldnât have done it without you guys,â Your eyes grow teary, âOk okay stop you guys are gonna make me cry,â You shake your hands out, wiping your face, âenough sappy talk. Letâs enjoy our beach day!âÂ
~Â
Rafe watches you and the Pogues playing with Jackson by the water, taking a sip of his beer.Â
Sofia comes up beside him, wrapping her arm around his waist, âHer son is cute,â She says with a smile, looking up at him.Â
He hums in response, not pulling his eyes from you and Jackson. He knew now, there was no denying Jackson. He looked just like him. Topper flat out asked the other day if Jackson was his.Â
âHe looks just like you man.âÂ
Rafe shrugged, âI donât see it. Heâs not mine though. She was screwing everyone on the island. Thereâs no telling who the father is.â He tried to keep up with the lie, but Topper wasnât stupid. Topper knew you werenât sleeping around, youâd never been like that. But he let him continue the lie, dropping the topic completely.Â
âI bet our kids will be cute.âÂ
Now that caught his attention. He snaps his head toward her, âWhat?âÂ
Sofia smiles, âWhen we have kids, I bet they will be cute.â Sheâs in dreamland, wondering what life with Rafe Cameron would be like. Getting married, having a big house on the island, having kids etc etc. Little did she know, Rafe wasnât planning a future with her.Â
He nod and takes another sip of his beer, deciding not to say anything.Â
âJackson wait-âÂ
Rafe turns in time to see a ball rolling his way and Jackson chasing it. You werenât too far behind.Â
Rafe bends down and picks up the ball, staying at Jacksonâs level as he approaches. Jackson is hesitant to take it.Â
âJackson, you canât just run off-âÂ
Rafe feels like heâs staring at a mirror. Topperâs right, he looks just like him. The little boys eyes are innocent and heâs overcome with a feeling he canât describe. He feels protective of the small boy in front of him, like a father would. A surge of love flowing through him. How could anyone leave this boy without a dad? How could he have abandoned his son? Something changed the moment he looked into Jacksonâs eyes.
âHere you go, buddy,â Rafe holds the ball out to him with a smile.Â
Jackson hesitantly takes it, looking up at you, with a small pout on his lips, âSorry mama, my ball.âÂ
Rafe slowly stands, the two of you coming face to face for the first time since you told him you were pregnant.Â
âItâs ok baby, you just canât run off like that.â You run your fingers through his hair. You will yourself to meet Rafeâs eyes, âSorry about that, weâll get out of your way.âÂ
âItâs ok.â Rafe canât seem to tear his eyes away from you. Is it possible to be more beautiful? Motherhood treated you well and heâs overwhelmed with pride to know you did it all on your own because of his stupid decision. His stupid immature decision.Â
Your eyes glance to Sofia, who steps up next to Rafe, pulling him from his trance, âyour son.. heâs adorable.âÂ
You give her a small smile, âThank you.âÂ
Rafe is mesmerized by you. He doesnât know whatâs over come him but the feelings that he buried deep inside have started bubbling to the surface.Â
âJackson, you know youâre not suppose to talk to strangers.â JJ takes a dig at Rafe as he approaches, scooping up Jackson in his arms.Â
Rafeâs jaw clenches at JJâs comment. Stranger. Heâs no stranger. Heâs his father- but he catches himself. JJâs right. He truly is a stranger to him and he has no right to call himself his father.Â
Jackson wraps his tiny arms around JJâs neck, snuggling into his shoulder. That stirs some jealousy within Rafe. He should be the one hugging his son and playing ball with him on the beach. He should be the one there, the three of you as a family.Â
âWe better get back. Sorry for bothering you guys.â You apologized, following JJ back to the rest of the pogues.Â
Rafe watches you walk away, his heart aching. He should have told you the truth. And he shouldnât have lied all these years about Jackson.Â
 ~Â
JJ holds Jackson with one arm and wraps his other around your shoulders, âyou ok?âÂ
You nod, âIâm good. You shouldnât have made the comment you didâÂ
JJ rolls his eyes, âitâs not like it wasnât true. Heâs a stranger.âÂ
You shrug, âI know but-âÂ
âNo buts. Heâs a stranger to Jackson. Even if he shares DNA with him.â He snaps back.Â
It was a touchy subject with JJ and you knew the conversation was over. JJ was protective over you and he held a huge grudge against Rafe for abandoning the two of you. Especially Jackson. He wanted Jackson to have a dad, something you and him didnât have growing up.Â
~Â
Rafe laid in bed that night with you and Jackson on his mind. He couldnât sleep, tossing and turning the entire night. Sofia is sound asleep next to him. He squints, peering to check the time on the clock, 6:37 am. He sighs running a hand over his face before quietly getting out of bed and toward the shower. He wanted to see you again and talk. He needed to talk to you.Â
âRafe?â Sofiaâs sleepy voice calls out to him, hands feeling his spot on the bed.Â
Rafe comes to her side, showered and dressed, kisses her forehead. âEarly meeting. Be back later.âÂ
She hums and turns back over, falling back asleep.Â
~Â
He pulls up to the Maybank house a little while later. Glancing over in the passenger seat, coffee for you and him. He hopes you still liked your coffee with 2 creams and 2 sugars. He also picked up some muffins and donuts, unsure what Jackson would like.Â
He was nervous, gripping the steering wheel. Maybe he shouldnât do this. He can still turn around and go home. You donât even know heâs here yet.Â
He shakes his head, no thereâs no talking him out of this. He needs to have this talk. Heâs 2 years two late. Technically almost 3 years.Â
Well shit thereâs no turning around now cause here you come walking toward his truck. He takes a deep breath, now or never.Â
He steps out of the truck, âmorning.â
âWhat the hell are you doing here?â You ask tightening your robe around you, âitâs nearly 7:30 in the morning.âÂ
âBrought coffee and breakfast.â He says, reaching inside to grab the coffee and bag. âI was hoping we could talk?âÂ
âNow you want to talk? Youâre a couple years too late Rafe.â Youâre eyeing the coffee, yearning for your boost of caffeine.Â
He sighs, âI know, I have no right to show up here unannounced either but, after seeing you guys yesterday I couldnât stop thinking about you.â He offers the coffee, âtwo cream and two sugar?âÂ
You nod, slowly reaching to take the coffee, âyou still remember?â You ask, surprised. Even after all these years he remembered? You felt a soft tug on your heart. No y/n. You tell yourself, smooshing those feelings back down. It was not the time to go soft.Â
He shrugs, also handing you the bag of muffins and donuts, âItâs not the hardest coffee order, but yes I still remember. Thereâs muffins and donuts in there, I wasnât sure-â He scratches the back of his neck, growing uncomfortable, âI wasnât sure what Jackson liked.âÂ
âHeâs a fan of both. He pretty much will eat anything,â You turn and head for the porch, âEveryone is still asleep, let me put this inside and we can go to the dock.âÂ
Rafe nods and takes the time to check out what all you two have done with the place. It was different than when he was here last, new dock and boathouse, the landscaping had been cleaned up and the house actually looked livable. Jacksonâs toys were strewed around the grass.Â
âready?â You ask, heading down toward the dock, Rafe following. You two take a seat on the bench at the end of the dock.Â
âSo, now that Jackson is older, people are starting to notice how much he looks just like you. You canât keep up with whatever lie youâve been spreading. Are you here to try and make me come up with an excuse for where his father is? So, you can go about your life?â You ask, bitterly.Â
âNo, thatâs not why Iâm here. Iâm here to step up and apologize. And explain my immature behavior.â He stands back up, pacing the dock in front of you. His nerves are getting the best of him. He had this speech all planned out but sitting in front of you, heâs forgot what to say. âI wasnât in the right head space. And I for sure wasnât ready to be a father. You saw what I was like. I was drinking, partying. Hell, I was even doing coke at that point.âÂ
You sit quietly, sipping your coffee as you listen to him. It wasnât anything you didn't know, to tell you the truth. You also were doing all those things at the time, minus the coke, but as soon as you found out you were pregnant, youâd stepped up and knew all of that had to come to an end. You were going to be a mother.Â
âI was doing the same things, Rafe. I donât see that being an excuse. I stepped up when I needed to because I had too. It was something you needed to do as well, but you werenât ready to give up that life yet. You werenât ready to give up your lifestyle to become a father.âÂ
âI know. and thatâs the truth, I didnât want to give up my partying lifestyle for a kid. I was also scared what people would think of me, getting a girl from the cut pregnant. No one even knew we were dating-âÂ
âSo you were ashamed of me? Youâre really not doing yourself any favors right now-â You scoffed, standing, âI get it, Rafe. It would have been the worst thing for a kook to get a pogue pregnant. People would have judged you and never looked at you the same-â You turn to head back toward the house. âIâm so tired of this kook vs pogue bullshit.âÂ
âBaby-â He gently grabs your arm to stop you, letting the pet name slip, âI mean y/n- Thatâs not what I was trying to say. Fuck, this is not how I wanted this to go. Please, Iâm trying to apologize. I was an immature kid back then and Iâm here now to apologize, make things right and take responsibility.âÂ
âRafe,â you sigh, âweâre doing fine right now. Without having you in our lives. Weâve made it work. Itâs been 3 years, just let it go. Iâll keep on with the lie, you can continue to live your life how you want. Get married, have other kids. Whatever you want to do.âÂ
âI donât want to do that, y/n. Thatâs what Iâm here for. I want to be apart of Jacksonâs life. A part of your life.â His hand has slipped down from your arm to your hand, his thumb subconsciously caressing your skin. âPlease give me another chance. Iâve changed. I promise Iâm not the man I was before. My dad has made me a manager at his company. I have a steady job, a house of my own. Iâm not the immature teenager I was before.â His eyes are pleading for another chance to do the right thing.
You donât know how to describe it as you stare into Rafeâs eyes, that they look the same as they did when you fell in love with him, but have a different softness to them. Heâs genuine. But you donât know if you can trust him. He broke you and you werenât ready to open those doors again. You werenât ready to open yourself back to him. You had Jackson to think about now and had to take his feeling into account. Could you trust Rafe?Â
âWhat about Sofia? What does she think of all this?â You remove your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest. âShe seems like a great girl.âÂ
âIf Iâm honest with you, I havenât talked to her about it. Me and her arenât serious.âÂ
âMaybe you should go home and talk things over with her. I canât make a decision now. I need time to think it over.âÂ
His shoulders sag in defeat, but he ultimately nods, âTake all the time you need.. Iâll be here waiting.âÂ
~Â
Rafe left your house and immediately went to Tannyhill, hoping he could catch his dad before leaving for his meeting at 11. âMorning Rose,â He greets as he enters the kitchen, Rose is drinking coffee at the island, Wheezie next to her. He kisses Wheezie on the head, âWheezie,âÂ
âMorning,â They say in unison.Â
âIs Dad still here?âÂ
âIn his office,â Rose nods, âHe had a couple things to finish before the meeting.âÂ
âThanks,â Rafe heads toward his office, knocking, âDad?âÂ
âCome in,â Ward calls out, âMorning Rafe, you ready for the big meeting this morning?âÂ
âReady. But I was hoping to talk to you about something.â He takes a seat across from Wardâs desk. Ward can tell there is something on his sonâs mind and closes his laptop to give his full attention.Â
âWhatâs going on?âÂ
Rafe takes a deep breath, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking, âYou know y/n Maybank?âÂ
âYes-â Ward says, leaning forward a little, âWhat about her?âÂ
âMe and her dated a few years ago.â
âMmhmm.â ward nods, âWhat about it?âÂ
Rafe takes another deep shaky breath. Ward begins to think about it, remembering she had a son. Who was about 3-Â
âThe boy- Jackson. Heâs yours?â Ward asks in disbelief.Â
Rafe gives a short nod, âI fucked up.âÂ
Ward slowly sits back in his chair, taking it all in. Old Ward would have blown up, told Rafe how stupid could he have been. âHow long have you known?â He asks.Â
âSince she told me she was pregnant.â He canât help but get teary eyed, still on edge as he waits for his dad to blow up on him. âI told you I fucked up.âÂ
Ward mulls over this new and shocking information. âWhy wouldnât you say anything?â Ward asks.Â
âI was terrified. Immature. I didnât want to be a dad. I was partying all the time and wasnât ready to give it up and be a dad.â He tells him honestly, âIt was a shitty decision and I regret it.âÂ
âYou should have took responsibility son.â He sighs, âBut I know you werenât in the right head space.â He stands and rounds his large desk, taking the seat next to his son, âRehab changed you for the better.âÂ
Rafe nods, âIâm trying to fix things. I want to be in his life. I went to her this morning and we talked. Sheâs hesitant to give me a chance.âÂ
âShe has every right to be hesitant.â Ward defends, you, âThatâs her son.âÂ
âHeâs mine too,â Rafe says, but sighs, âBut youâre right. It is her son. Iâve given her no reason to trust me.âÂ
Ward nods, âTime will give her that. Youâve done the hardest part. Admitted you were wrong and apologized.â He squeezes Rafeâs shoulder, âItâs time for you to take responsibility.âÂ
Rafe nods in response, âIâm sorry dad. I should have told you the truth.âÂ
Ward agrees. He gives Rafe a small smile, âSo I have a grandson, huh?âÂ
~Â
Rafe was in agony. It had been a week since he talked to you. You hadnât tried reaching out yet and he was starting to get worried that you werenât going to give him a second chance. Heâd called it quits with Sofia, who didnât take it easily, but she admitted she knew sheâd seen a change in him after the beach day. And had admitted sheâd wondered about Jackson. She saw the resemblance and the way Rafe had looked at you. He was still in love with you.Â
Youâd told the Pogues that morning over breakfast, JJ had flipped.Â
âLike hell he deserves another chance!âÂ
âJJ, you donât get to make the decision, I do.âÂ
JJ had left with a slam of the front door. He come back a couple hours later, calm and agreed. It wasnât his place, but he still didnât trust him. He didnât want to see you hurt again.Â
JJ had left with a slam of the front door. He come back a couple hours later, calm and agreed that it wasnât his place, but he still didnât trust him. He didnât want to see you hurt again.Â
~
Your heart is pounding against your chest as you take the stairs up to Rafeâs front door. You looked around the outside of the house. It was a nice, expensive house on the water. Two story on stilts as most houses near water are built.Â
His truck was parked under the house so you knew he was home.Â
You took a deep breath and knocked on the door.Â
Rafe was surprised to see you at his front door. It had been a week and he was beginning to wonder if you were even gonna make a decision. The longer it took the more he felt he wasnât going to get his second chance.Â
âHey,âÂ
âHey,â you point inside, âcan I come in so we can talk?âÂ
âYeah yeah of course.â He opens the door wider for you to enter, closing it behind you.Â
The place was clean and sleek. It looked like a bachelor pad.Â
âYou want anything to drink? Iâve got water, juice, a beer..â he chuckles softly, motioning to the kitchen.Â
You follow him into the kitchen, âWater is fine,â You lay your purse in the chair at the island. âIâm gonna be honest, Iâm nervous.â
He fixes you a glass of water and you take a chance to look around the room.Â
âno need to be nervous,â
You see in the corner of the living room thereâs a small kids battery powered jeep and a couple other shopping bags around it.Â
He sees you have noticed the stuff and slides the water to you, âmy dad.. he uh he bought it for Jackson and Rose picked up a few things for him too.âÂ
âThatsâs very sweet of them. But wait, you told your dad?â Youâre surprised and look to him, âI thought you hated him.. you guys didnât have a great relationship.âÂ
âWe patched things up after I got back from rehab.âÂ
âRehab?â You ask shocked, âI didnât know, when did you go to rehab?âÂ
He clears his throat, âfew months after we broke up. Or I broke things off. Ward found me half dead on some laced coke I bought and when I woke up he made me go to rehab. Best decision I could have made.âÂ
âThatâs awesome, Rafe. Im happy for you. I know having a better relationship with your dad was what you always talked about wanting.â You give him a soft smile.Â
âYeah yeah itâs good now.â He heads toward the back deck overlooking the water and you follow taking in the view but Rafe, heâs watching you, taking you in.Â
You catch him watching you and canât help but blush, âwhy are you looking at me like that?âÂ
Now he blushes, embarrassed heâd been caught, âsorry, we can sit here to talk.â He takes a seat on the couch and you take a seat on the other side.Â
You take a deep breath, âIâve done a lot of thinking over this.âÂ
He nods, hands clasped together he places his elbows on his thighs leaning closer, âyeah?âÂ
You look at him, âWeâll start out easy and slow. Heâs not to know youâre his dad yet. I want him to be comfortable with you. He doesnât truly understand the whole dad thing either, so I donât want to confuse him. We call all hang out together first and then if I feel comfortable enough maybe you can take him on your own for a couple hours. I donât trust you yet, Rafe. You broke that trust and I need time. But I believe everyone deserves a second chance. And I want Jackson to grow up with a dad who loves him. Something JJ and I didnât have growing up.âÂ
He resists every muscle in his body not to hug you. âI can be that. I will be that.âÂ
He reaches over and you let him take your hand, âthank you for this.â He gives it a gentle squeeze, âyou donât know how much this chance means to me.â
~Â
A couple days later you and Jackson meet Rafe at his house, planning to spend the day there. Rafe had asked you a million questions about Jackson; his likes, dislikes, what toys he liked to play with, what he liked to do. He wanted to know as much as he could so he could be prepared for today.Â
âHey!â Rafe greets at the door, âWhatâs up little man?âÂ
Jacksonâs shy at first and he peeks out from your shoulder at Rafe, muttering a quiet, âHi.âÂ
âHeâs a little shy. And he just woke up from a nap.â you follow Rafe inside and he helps to take the bag off your shoulders.Â
âItâs all good. I understand.â He nervously wipes his hands on his shorts, âI got his favorite foods. The kitchen is stocked and-âÂ
âToys!â Jackson gasps, wiggling out of your arms and immediately taking off toward the pile of toys. The jeep Ward bought him was there and a couple other new toys Rafe picked up. Â
âCan I play?â Jackson asks, his eyes lighting up.Â
âTheyâre yours! You can play with them all. After lunch we can take that jeep outside and you can ride around the yard.â Rafe says, taking a seat on the couch to watch him.Â
âYou didnât have to get all these...â You sit next to Rafe.Â
Rafe shrugs, âI know but he didnât have anything here. I want him to be comfortable.â He slips off the couch and sits in the floor next to Jackson, helping him open the toys. Rafe teaches him how to play with a couple of them, showing him how they work.Â
You couldnât believe the change in Rafe. It was like a different man sitting in the floor. And the resemblance between the two was uncanny. Both had the same look of concentration on their face and you laughed softly to yourself after snapping a picture. Sarah had asked how it was going, so you sent her the picture. She was happy to know her brother was stepping up and also made a comment about their same look of concentration.Â
As you stared at Rafe, a new feeling was starting to take form. A longing for something more and hope that maybe you could get your happy ever after and your dream of a family to become a reality.
Comments, likes, & reblogs are always greatly appreciated! I love to read your thoughts on it.Â
#Rafe Cameron imagines#Rafe Cameron imagine#Rafe Cameron fanfiction#Rafe Cameron fanfic#Rafe Cameron fanfics#Rafe Cameron fic#Rafe Cameron fics#Rafe Cameron x reader#Rafe Cameron x reader fic#Rafe Cameron x reader insert#rafe cameron x female!reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x female reader#obx imagine#obx imagines#obx fanfic#obx fanfics#obx fics#obx fanfiction#obx fic#rafe cameron x maybank!reader
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Entrenadora (Alexia Putellas X Reader)
It has been absolutely forever since I have written anything, but this idea came to me and has been stuck ever since. I have more ideas for where this could go but would like to see if this idea is even interesting first. Please let me know what we think, as I fear I am washed up and my stories suck
Crouched down on the sideline, all you could do is watch as the #10 on your team cuts back across the top of the 18 shaking the defender and curls the ball into the top corner. You jumped up and could feel the bench behind you also jumping up and you watch on as the girls on the field surround the goal scorer as they celebrate.Â
the feeling of your assistant coach slapping you on the back and say inâYou were right the girls practicing the cutbacks paid off!â brings you back to the game at the moment.Â
You smile and see the bench settle behind you and turn back to watch your team run back to get set for the kick off and you clap and yell out âcome on girls, stay solid for 3 more mins, we got this!âÂ
The next few minutes pass by slowly, as you pace the sidelines occasionally yelling out instructions, but when the final whistle goes you can feel the relief settle in. You watch as the bench runs out on to the field and surround their goalie celebrating the semi final victory. You follow the team out and work your way through congratulating your players, but when your #10 who also happens to be your 10 year old niece wraps you in big hug you smile extra big.Â
âThat was a sweet goal Cami!â you tell her as she pulls back form you.Â
âYou taught me how to do that Tia!â she smiles up at you, and you cant help to pinch her cheek and she squeals and turns to celebrate with her teammates.Â
You walk back towards the bench, after shaking the other teams coaches hands, and you start packing up your stuff and make sure the girls havenât left anything lying about. You turn to get the girls to start cool downs, and you notice that your assistant coach has already got the team cooling down.Â
Using the moment to stand there and think back on what you need to do for the afternoon prior to the final later in the evening. You fail to notice your brother come up behind you and squeeze your shoulders.Â
You jump and turn to see him standing there and you whack him on the shoulder and say âyouâre an ass.âÂ
He smirks and says âcongrats on the win coach!âÂ
âGood thing you brought me in, you never would have got them to a finalâ you tease him with smile.Â
He chuckles and says âouch, I wanted to coach but no parents were allowed.âÂ
âthank god you have such an awesome sister thenâ you smirk at him and move to gather your stuff as the team comes over to get their bags and move off the field.Â
You cant help but smile at your big brother and your niece talking about the game as you follow them across the field. You follow them to your cars, and plans are made for the 3 hour window the team has before the final, to get the girls fed. You take a second to look at the schedule and see the other semi final is being played now and you decide to go and watch and scout the teams.Â
You make your way towards the field the game is being played on and you find an empty spot towards a corner flag to stand in and watch. You are lost in the game that you donât notice someone else coming to stand near you, and when you say something out loud about how stupid of a play that was you do not expect to hear a response.Â
âsi, I agree, would have been better to play the ball to the wingâ the voice beside you says.Â
You turn and see a stunning women, clad in Barcelona shorts and a half zip with a black ball cap on. It takes you a second but you finally respond with âor the ball should have been cycled back and not forced into a play.âÂ
âThe centre back has a good range, she could have made a better attackâ she says to you.Â
The two of you go back and forth for the next few minutes before a goal is scored the way you both were just describing. You both laugh and you say to her âseems we both had a good grasp on the game.âÂ
âsi, its refreshing to talk to someone who sees the game as a wholeâ she smiles at you. Before you can say anything else she asks âdid you see that pass?â
âit was a waste of an opportunityâ you reply back. It starts your conversation back up and you continue to discuss the tactics of the game in front of you. It lasts for the rest of the game, when your phone rings and its your brother calling and you turn to her and say âexcuse me, I need to take this.âÂ
âI should go anyway, I enjoyed talking with you!â she says with a wink and she turns and moves away.Â
You watch for a moment and walk the other way answering the phone to your brother, and you cant help but think that you would like to be able to talk to her again. When the time comes for your team to warm up, you completely forget about the conversation you had with the cute woman, and you focus fully on the game.Â
When your team comes out the victors and after the celebrating dies down and you are standing in line waiting for the medal ceremony do you see her again. She is standing behind the convenor of the tournament with 2 other women dressed in the same outfit sheâs wearing. You hear the convenor making a speech about the tournament and then introduces the 3 Barcelona Women players that are there to present the medals does it click who she is.Â
You can feel the heat to your cheeks as you remember how you just spoke tactics with one of the best players in the world. You have to follow the team through the motions of getting the medals and you can barley look her in the eye as she places medal over your head. Luckily team pictures take priority and getting the team squared away takes up your team before you can continue to overthink it.Â
When the madness dies down and a few people are left straggling around you find your self alone on the field. You are not alone for long when she steps up beside you and says âcongratulations coach.â
You turn to her and say âGracias, but my name is Y/Nâ as you turn to hold your hand out to her.
âAlexiaâ she says and shakes your hand with a smile.Â
You try to ignore the tingling up your arm as she shakes it and you ask âWhy didnât you tell me who I was talking to earlier?â
She shrugged and says âdoes it matter? I enjoyed the tactics talk with someone who has the same view of the game as me.âÂ
âI mean I could have at least rolled out the red carpet, or maybe gone and watched some game play footage of how you move on the fieldâ you chuckle back to her.
She smiles and says âOh you would have watched me?âÂ
You shrug and say âfor purely tactical reasons only.âÂ
She laughs out loud at that and says âcan I take you for a drink to pick your brain about how my body moves?âÂ
âthats tempting for purely tactical reasons, but I promised my niece I would come celebrate the teams win with her tonightâ You softly smile at her.Â
She places her hand on your arm and smiles âyou coach your nieces team here?âÂ
âsi I do.âÂ
âthats very sweet of youâ she squeezes your arm and continues âcan we take a rain check?â
Nodding you move back a few steps to dig into your bag for your clipboard, and you write your number down and rip a piece off to hand to her and you say âcall me for a rain check Alexia.âÂ
She smiles with a chuckle and says âI see what you did there, but I will be calling you for purely tactical reasons.âÂ
âI should go catch up with my niece.â
âyou shouldâ and she moves closer to you and press a kiss to your cheek and says âYouâll be hearing from me.âÂ
You watch as she jogs away to her other team mates and you move to meet your brother and niece in the parking lot. Your brother sees you coming and asks âwhat took you so long?âÂ
âNothing, I was just taking it all inâ you tell him with a smile.Â
âmhm the blush on your cheek says otherwise baby sister.â he teases you and before you can swat at him he moves out of the way and says ânow come on Cami is waiting for us.âÂ
***
The following morning as you are walking into your first class of the day you feel your watch buzz with a new message, you see it was an incoming message and you glance down quickly to notice it was an unknown number. Before you can read it you are at the door of your class room and you walk in and place your stuff down at the front podium. Looking up as you are connecting your laptop the lecture hall is about 3/4 full with 2 minutes to class to start.Â
As your laptop boots up you can help but check your messages and you immediately can feel the smile and blush work the way up your cheeks.Â
Unknown: Figured Id let you get a head start on the purely tactical reasons to watch me, and send you a link to the last goal I scored, I wont tell anyone if you watch it back a few times. But I would like to hear all about how my body moves from your perspective over dinner?Â
Unknown: Also Hi, from the cute footballer you gave your number to, who would also like to be able to study how you move, again for purely tactical reasons ;)
#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#espwnt x reader#woso imagines#woso x reader#woso imagine
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