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r6eduss · 5 months ago

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Girllll what if an imagine where S3! Daryl and y/n are a thing and when Daryl left with his brother, rick and the others were the one who told y/n that he just left and she was so devastated that when daryl eventually came back she treated him coldly then eventually breaking down in front of him because they think it's easy for daryl to leave them

Idk maybe angsty in the beginning then fluffy at the end?? This scenario is stuck in my head for D A Y S 😩

Anws thanks!!

Listen before I go.

•Summary: Daryl leaves with Merle without thinking how it would affect you. (Fem Reader)

•Warnings: 18+, Twd violence, angst, fluff

•Word count: 2.6k

•Setting: The Prison

•A/N: thank you for the request! I’m really sorry if this isn’t what you wanted and you aren’t happy with it 😭 I rewatched a couple episodes to try and make it as accurate as possible to the actual series. also I’m a very strong believer that Daryl would call his partner sweetheart 🤞🏼(I promise I’ve seen all the other requests I’ve gotten!)

Rick, Daryl, and Oscar had set out to rescue Glenn and Maggie, who were being held prisoner in Woodbury. Michonne had accompanied them, serving as their guide through the hostile territory. The operation, however, hadn't gone as smoothly as planned. They had lost Oscar in the chaos, and the Governor had captured Daryl, forcing him into a brutal situation—pitting him against his own brother, Merle.

As the dust settled and the group reconvened, Glenn and Michonne stayed behind to watch over the car while Rick and Maggie went back for Daryl, determined not to leave him behind. Against their better judgment, they returned with more than just Daryl—Merle had tagged along, at Daryl’s insistence. Now, back at the car, an intense discussion was brewing over whether Merle and Michonne should be brought back to the prison.

“The Governor is probably headin’ to the prison righ’ now. Merle knows how he thinks and we could use the muscle,” Daryl’s eyes locking on Rick, his tone resolute. One way or another, he was bringing his brother back.

Tension radiated from Glenn and Maggie. Glenn, still nursing wounds from Merle’s brutal interrogation, was barely containing his anger. Maggie stood close, her face tight with the memory of her own trauma at the hands of the Governor. “He had a gun to our heads! You really want him sleeping in the same cell block as Carol or Beth?” Glenn's voice shook, both with fury and concern for his family’s safety.

Daryl shot back quickly, defensive. “He ain’t a rapist.” But Glenn was faster. His words were sharp, cutting through Daryl’s protest like a knife. “Well his buddy is.”

Daryl’s face tightened. “They ain’t buddies no more. Not after last night,” he said, growing more frustrated. To him, this was simple—Merle was family. Family was non-negotiable. Why was this even up for debate?

Rick, observing the growing argument, finally stepped in, his voice measured but firm. “There’s no way Merle’s gonna live there without putting everyone at each other’s throats.”

Daryl’s patience was fraying. “So ya gon’ cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” His irritation was clear. They were even considering taking Michonne—someone they barely knew—while debating his own brother?

The group paused as Maggie spoke up, her voice softer but filled with conviction while gesturing towards Michonne. “She’s in no state to be on her own,” The trauma they'd all just endured weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't understand why Daryl seemed blind to it.

Rick and Daryl exchanged a look. They had their doubts about Michonne, and Rick had voiced that, telling the group that she’s not going back with them. “That’s righ’, we don’t know who she is. But Merle? Merle’s blood.” Daryl threw the statement out like it should end the conversation, as if everyone would automatically agree.

But Glenn’s response was immediate and cold. “No, Merle is your blood. My family is right here. And they’re waiting for us back at the prison.” His words hung in the air, heavy with finality. Maggie nodded in agreement, she wasn’t about to let Merle, of all people, endanger what little they had left.

Rick stepped closer to Daryl, his voice steady, attempting to bridge the growing divide. “And you're part of that family, Daryl. Not him.”

The statement struck Daryl hard. He looked baffled, wounded even. If they considered him family, why wouldn’t they accept his brother? “Man, y’all don’t know.” He shook his head, anger and confusion swirling inside him.

The silence that followed was tense. Everyone stared at Daryl, unsure of what more they could say. In their eyes, the decision was obvious—but for Daryl, it was far from simple. Finally, Daryl exhaled sharply. “Fine. We’ll fend for ourselves.”

The words hung in the air like a threat, and instantly the group erupted in protests. There was panic now, a desperation to keep Daryl from making a stupid decision out of anger. “No him, no me,” Daryl snapped, his voice thick with frustration. He felt cornered, like there was no room for him to protect both his blood and his new family.

Maggie stepped forward, “Daryl, you don’t have to do this.” He looked at her, and for a moment, his hardened expression faltered. “It was always Merle and me before this,” he said quietly, the pain in his voice clear. He was torn, and it was written all over his face.

Glenn, still reeling from everything, asked a question that Daryl forgot to consider in the heat of the moment. “What do you want us to tell Y/N?” It was a simple question, but one that carried so much weight. They both knew it would devastate you.

Daryl hesitated, his gaze dropping. “She’ll understand.” But there was a crack in his voice, a hint of uncertainty, deep down he knew that you in fact wouldn’t understand. The group fell silent, letting the gravity of the moment sink in.

For a long moment, Daryl stood there, chewing on the inside of his lip, torn between his past and his present. Finally, he began moving, heading toward the car. “Say goodbye to your pop for me.” Directing his comment towards Maggie. Rick quickly followed, refusing to let this situation go. “Hey, hey. There’s got to be another way,” he pleaded, knowing how hard this would hit not just Carol but you too.

Daryl paused, his back still to Rick. “Don’t ask me to leave him,” he said, accent thick as ever. “I already did tha’ once.” Arriving at the trunk he begins stuffing supplies into his bag, while telling Rick and them to take care of themselves. He hoists it over his shoulder, glancing one last time at the group, and walking away with Merle.

You stood quietly, arranging your belongings. Your cell had become somewhat of a sanctuary for you, a space to shape, however fragile, into a semblance of back home. You carefully sat down on your bed, deciding that you were going to nap, until you heard a knock, and saw Rick standing just outside. His hands rested against the cracked walls, not wanting to intrude too much. “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice very careful.

You offered a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m okay.” It was silent for a moment, you could tell he had more to say. “Is everything okay?” Rick slowly brought his gaze from your face to the ground, wondering how he could bring the news to you. “Listen.. Daryl’s gone. Left with Merle.”

Your heart lurched violently in your chest, but outwardly, you kept still, trying to keep your breath steady while each inhale felt like swallowing glass. “Is he coming back?” He was coming back right? You two had something special did you not?

Rick’s expression was one of apology, his shoulders heavy with the weight of what he had broke to you. “I don’t know. He told me you’d understand.” Understand? Understand that Daryl had chosen to abandon the love you thought you both had? Without even saying goodbye?

“Okay.” You replied softly, your voice refusing to betray the devastation roaring inside you. You couldn’t fall apart, and especially not in front of Rick.

He lingered for a moment longer, “if you need anything..—“

“I’ll be fine, Rick. Thank you.”

He gave you a solemn nod before stepping back into the hallway, the silence in your cell feeling almost suffocating. You sat frozen for a very long moment, staring at ceiling. Then, like a dam breaking, the tears came, hot and unbidden, blurring your vision as the enormity of it all crashed down on you. You sank onto your bed, your body shaking with silent sobs and your heart aching in ways you hadn’t expected. You’ve always known that Daryl was complicated, guarded.. but why did he leave? Were you not important enough to him? Did you really mean that little? A hundred questions burned in your mind, and none of them had answers.

It felt like an eternity before the next day finally arrived. The night had been restless, your mind circling endlessly around one thing, and that one thing was Daryl. The way he had just stood up and left you behind, it left a pit in your stomach that only deepened with each passing hour. But today, you had bigger problems, problems that made personal heartache seem almost insignificant.

Glenn was gone, in attempts to clear his mind. With Daryl gone and Rick wandering crazy town, he was the next in charge, and right now he had a lot of pent up anger on what the governor did to Maggie. But of course, while he was gone, the Governor had made his move, and it was brutal. His forces stormed the prison with a cold, ruthless efficiency, and everything erupted before you had time to prepare. Axel was the first to fall, a sharp crack of gunfire cutting through the air as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Carol, who had been standing just beside him, let out a sharp cry of shock. In a heartbeat she ducked behind Axel’s now motionless body, using him as a shield.

Bullets ripped through the air, the deafening sound of gunfire filling the space as you scrambled for cover. You crouched behind the crumbling remains of the prison walls that were near the gate, heart hammering in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. You clutched your rifle tightly, hands shaking slightly as you peeked out from behind the wall, eyes scanning for targets.

There. One of the Governor's men was in your line of sight, crouched low, his rifle trained on the courtyard. Without hesitating, you aimed and pulled the trigger. The recoil jolted your body, but you didn't wait to see if you hit your mark. You ducked back behind the wall, the echo of gunfire ringing in your ears. Around you, The group fought just as hard, each of them locked in their own battles.

As you leaned out again, carefully scanning for your target who you hadn’t known already retreated, your eyes fell on Herschel, who was still exposed in the courtyard. Rick, positioned just outside the fences, was also in a precarious situation. At that moment, the Governor and his men launched an assault, sending a car to smash through the courtyard fence. Herschel, crouched in the field with his rifle, began to feel the weight on him as walkers started to flood in from every direction.

The fear was palpable among you, Rick, and especially Maggie as you all dreaded the possibility of losing Herschel. Just as the Governor began to leave, Glenn had returned, driving into the courtyard while Michonne followed the truck, cutting through the walkers that stood in her way. Their intervention was a lifesaver; they quickly rescued Herschel, escorting him into the truck and out of the courtyard, into the safety of the prison gates.

Outside, Rick was struggling to fend off the relentless walkers closing in on him. Just when things seemed dire, a bolt flew through the air, striking the head of the walker attacking Rick. Daryl and Merle had returned, joining forces with Rick to clear the remaining walkers. Daryl and the rest of your family were okay.. and that’s all you needed to know before bolting back toward your cell, trying your best to avoid the archer in the process.

A couple hours later you found yourself sat on your bed, running your fingers absentmindedly over the pages of an old journal you started keeping. Without looking up, you could heard the familiar sound of boots shuffling just outside your cell. Daryl stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hand brushing against the frame of the cell, his shoulders hunched slightly as though the weight of the world rested on them. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, the air between them thick with tension.

"Hey," he muttered finally, his voice gravelly and hesitant.

You looked up at him then, your expression unreadable. Daryl shifted his weight, uncomfortable under your gaze. Without a word, you stood and brushed past him, your shoulder grazing his as you walked out of the cell. Daryl flinched at the contact, his jaw tightening. The cold shoulder hit him harder than any words could have, and as he watched you walk away, he felt the guilt gnawing at his insides.

The distance between you two only grew more unbearable. As the days flew by, you continued to ignore him, feeling as if he didn’t deserve your attention, while Daryl found himself missing the soft touch of your hand, the warmth you brought into his life that no one else ever could. He couldn’t stay away any longer. He needed to fix this.

He found you sitting on the edge of your bed again, scribbling quietly in your journal like yesterday, not looking up when he entered, just blatantly ignoring him.

"Damn it, why’re ya avoidin’ me?" His frustration finally boiled over, his voice harsher than he meant it to be. You paused, setting the journal down slowly before looking up at him with steely eyes, the walls around you finally beginning to crack. "Why did you leave, Daryl?" Your was voice trembling but controlled, laced with anger. "Was it that easy?"

Daryl froze, his usual tough exterior faltering. He wasn’t used to being confronted like this, especially by you. He fidgeted, biting the inside of his lip. "It ain’t like that… Merle— he’s my blood."

"And what am I, Daryl?" You instantly snapped, voice rising higher as your emotions spilled over. "Why was it so easy for you to leave me? You didn’t even say goodbye. Did you not care?" Daryl’s gaze fell to the ground, avoiding yours at all costs. “I wasn’t thinkin’ straight”

Your eyes instantly widened in disbelief and hurt. “You left me here, alone, when I thought we had something! You weren’t even clear headed enough to think about how it would affect me!” Daryl flinched at edge of your voice. “I didn’t know what to do! I was tryin’ to do what I thought was right.”

You stood up abruptly, your anger radiating off you. “What was right?! You think abandoning me without a word is doing what’s right? Why’d you even come back if clearly all you needed was Merle.”

Your words cut deeper than any wound he’d ever taken. He stood there, staring at you, the silence stretching painfully between you both. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I came back 'cause I realized I love ya."

Your heart fluttered at his words, the anger in your eyes softening, though the hurt was still there. For a very long pause you just stared at him, scanning his eyes for any possible doubt for what he just admitted to you. “..Actually?” You really couldn’t believe it, you never thought he’d be the one to say those words first, but he did. All You wanted to do was stay mad, to push him away for making you feel like you didn’t matter, but the vulnerability in his voice stopped you. He again chewed the inside of his lips and nodded slowly to answer your question. "I’m sorry." he mumbled, looking down. He looked like he was about to cry, and in that very moment you just wanted to nurture him.

So without thinking, you closed the distance and wrapped your arms around him. Daryl tensed at first, his back stiffening at the unexpected embrace, but after a moment, he slowly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you in return and leaning down into your neck, feeling comfortable and safe.

"I love you too.. but don’t ever leave me again."

Daryl leaned back and pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead, lingering just for a moment. “I won’t, sweetheart.”

And that was a promise he’d never break. Not for anybody.

@vampiresluv

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x reader angst #daryl dixon x reader fluff #daryl dixon x reader smut #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #norman reedus

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maxivstappen · 3 months ago

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DID YOU LIKE HER IN THE MORNING ?

[ masterlist / requests closed ]

☽｡⋆ distance can lead to stupid, reckless decisions. but lando knows better than that, right? — lando norris x reader based on “did you like her in the morning” by nikki

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst 𝄞 1.7k words

You loved a loud life just the same as he did. You enjoyed the traveling, the partying, the sleepless nights, hell, even the stressful nights you wouldn’t trade for a peaceful, quiet, boring, normal life. You were eternally grateful for having a job surrounding the same tracks Lando is driving on, even if that was rather a lucky coincidence instead of a thought-through plan.

You loved it not only because it meant you’d get to be close to your boyfriend most of the time, more so because you got to experience the loudness with him. The parties, the race weekends, just everything. You’d have it without him too, and no doubt, you would have tons of fun doing so, but of course it’s better with a “super cool hot famous boyfriend” by your side, as he liked to call himself.

You loved it, until you couldn’t anymore.

Not as dramatic as it sounds. You were invited to a wedding of an old friend back at home, and Lando, for obvious reasons, couldn’t attend with you, so you flew out the country by yourself, giving Lando one last good luck kiss a few days before the Las Vegas Grand Prix. You missed him dearly, but you also missed your friends at home whom you haven’t seen in what felt like forever, and really, what’s a better reason for a reunion than a wedding?

But that’s where the trouble began.

You liked to call yourself independent. Very independent, even. You didn’t have a problem with being far from Lando for a few weeks, and while you of course loved him more than anyone else in this world, you’ve stated before that in case of you losing the job for whatever reason or if you just couldn’t travel with him anymore, you’d think a long distance relationship would work just well. At least for you.

Of course, the constant missing your partner would complicate things, but that’s still no reason to break up a relationship that has lasted for longer than three years already. At least that’s what you thought.

Lando liked to call himself independent too. Very independent, even. Too bad it’s all a lie.

Lando has always hated the idea of being away from you, or rather the idea of you being far from him. It’s not like he didn’t have any trust in you, it’s just become normal for him to always have you at least somewhat in his reach. That’s how your relationship has always been, you were coworkers before you were lovers.

He didn’t mind you taking a few days off. He also didn’t mind you wanting to spend some time with your family and friends who were still located far, far away from wherever you two would usually have to travel to for the many races. However, he did mind you not being near him.

It bothered him more than he’d like to admit.

You’ve talked about it before, talked about him being too needy and too possessive from time to time, but never once have you two fought about it. You thought you never would, and you were right. Your departure was slightly painful for the both of you, but it was only 2 weeks that you‘d be gone, and it’s not at all like you couldn’t stay in contact. So there was nothing to worry about, right?

Or so you thought.

The moment you arrived at you local airport you saw your mom run up to you, caging you in her arms as if to never let you go again. Your father wasn’t far behind, and then came your brother. It was a sweet little moment of a family reuniting as a whole again. And even though you wanted to set your whole focus on the few next days to come, the lovely wedding and the friends you once lost on the way who you’d now finally see again, Lando never really left your mind. You just didn’t understand why, you weren’t usually like this.

Maybe it was just that after five years of knowing each other and three of those spent dating, you did grow somewhat dependent. you knew it wasn’t the truth, but blaming it on a simple thing like that seemed terribly easier than giving in to the thoughts of what could actually be the cause of it. You didn’t have any time for that. You weren’t here to think about work or about Lando, but about the things that were right in front of your eyes, which at this moment was the beautiful white wedding decorated with all sorts of flowers of sunset hues.

The wedding was held on a beach, surrounded by the dreamy sound of waves crashing and seagulls singing their own nupital melodies. You arrived with one of your old friends Nina, both of you wearing long and flowy pastel dresses, just as the dress code ordered you to. The day went on with you two crying at seeing one of your childhood friends getting married, listening to the heartfelt vows of bride and groom.

Your mind immediately went to Lando and you standing at the altar like they did. You knew it was too soon, and you knew he didn’t have time for marriage, even less for planning a wedding, but you still couldn’t help it. You really did miss him more this time, and throughout the whole ceremony, the feeling of something being incredibly off only intensed.

But the night came, and the feeling faded. Or at least the drinks made it do that.

You were sitting with Nina and two guys you used to be very close with at the dim bar near the dance floor when you suddenly noticed something light up inside your purse. You didn’t mind it at first, not wanting to be rude towards Tom who was trying to talk to you without stumbling over his word completely, but the shots you downed beforehand made it undoubtedly harder.

Your phone lit up again. Slowly getting on your nerves, you decided to wait until Tom’s attention was fixated on Nina again to then check your messages and - missed calls?

—

Lando hated how his mood changed whenever you were gone. It felt as if there was something missing when you weren’t there waiting for him at home after debriefing or after PR events and whatnot. He missed your hugs and kisses, your smile and most importantly, just your touch.

Truth be told - but never to you - when you first started dating, for Lando, the thriving point was attraction. One month in, that’s when he realized that he wasn’t getting rid of you any time soon. Not that he minded. Two months in and the two of you made it official, of course not without any drama because how was a McLaren driver allowed to date a McLaren employee? Two weeks and the conversations and the hate online slowly died down, but your relationship kept on blooming. There was just one thing that somehow had Lando incredibly confused - why did your relationship suddenly feel more like you couldn’t get rid of him? Why did it feel like he was the one attached to you instead of the other way around?

Not that it felt bad or anything, he was just very used to have the girl being that dependent on him, to always want his attention, to always ask for his opinion on everything. Now he was the one all over you, and you didn’t mind it at all. You had the man you love wrapped tightly around your finger, just like he had you. For three years now.

But that didn’t help him right now, not with jealousy nagging at his side like a demon. You were out, enjoying your time with people you loved, and while he should be happy for you, he spent his time rather annoyed at you not being where he was. It’s only been a week, and work has already failed to keep his mind off of you. And he hated it. He knew it was the day of the wedding, and he was done wasting his time only thinking about you, so what else was there for a man to do instead of going clubbing with the guys? He hadn’t spent time with them in a long time, neither had he gone clubbing these past fem months, too caught up with Formula 1. So this would be okay, right? Just some drinks to keep his mind off of you.

Right?

—

15 missed calls from carlos sainz.

that was weird, you thought, and your stomach dropped and you felt the dread creeping up your consciousness. It had you feeling weaker than ever.

You quietly excused yourself to go to the bathroom, though every step towards it made it harder and harder to breathe.

What if something had happened to him? A work incident? Then how did Carlos know? Were they hanging out and he hurt himself? Were they out and someone there hurt Lando?

Did something happen to your Lando?

Your finger hovered shaking over the green button until you finally decided to press it and call the Ferrari driver back. Not even a single beep was heard before he huffed out your name as if he had been yearning for you to finally phone him back.

“Carlos? Is everything okay?” The Spaniard could practically feel your distress through the screen and he swore he’s never felt an urge so strong to punch someone right across their face, let alone his best friend Lando Norris.

It took some time for realization to set in. Your breathing had slowed down but the chills all over your body told that it was a sign far from good. Very far from good.

You could still make out the faint sound of Carlos’ voice as you locked the door of the bathroom stall furthest in the back, however, every word that came after “Lando cheated on you” somehow wasn’t comprehensive to you.

You just hope he’ll still like her in the morning, cause you, for sure, weren’t coming back.

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gilbertscurls · 6 months ago

Text

Down Bad ➵ Matt Sturniolo

warnings: angst, mentions of depression, panic attack, suggestive, 12k words

Matt had no idea how he got there, how he found himself sitting in the living room, and Y/N, his ex-girlfriend cuddled up on the opposite couch with her new partner. He felt like it was some cruel joke when he came to visit Madison, his good friend, and he suddenly was met with the girl he was so in love with sitting there. And someone else had his arm wrapped around her.

When he walked in, and Madison came to greet him, his gaze immediately landed on you and… Vinnie Hacker. Matt didn’t think he’d ever felt such a painful pang in his chest before. He must have looked like he’d just been stabbed as he stood there staring at you. His jaw went slack and his heart dropped, and for a second, he couldn’t even believe what he was seeing. Vinnie had an arm wrapped around you, and you were leaning against him with a smile.

He was standing there watching someone else touch you like it was no big deal, and he thought he might throw up. He suddenly felt like he’d been punched in the chest, and he could barely even breathe. Nick and Chris were behind him, and he was painfully aware that they were watching his reaction to his.

Finally, you stood up to hug his brothers hello, before you found yourself right in front of him. “Matt.” You nodded, not sure how to greet him.

He froze for a second.

She said my name, he thought.

You’d just said his name in that same sweet, soft voice, and he suddenly forgot how to talk.

You were standing right in front of him, only inches away.

“Hey,” he managed to answer weakly.

He desperately wanted to touch you, to grab you and pull you against him and hold you like he’d done dozens of times before…

“You, uh…”

His eyes were still fixated on Vinnie, who was just behind you the whole time.

“You look good,” he told you lamely.

You nodded. “Thanks. You too.”

He could tell you were a little uncomfortable, and it killed him. He wished you were wearing anything other than the skintight, low-cut dress you had on now. It looked amazing, but he could remember all the times you’d worn that around him, and seeing you in it now was driving him crazy.

He was still staring at Vinnie, fighting the urge to punch him in the face.

“Hey, man.” Vinnie reached to shake his hand, standing by your side.

Matt wanted to snap Vinnie’s wrist, but instead, he forced a smile as he shook his hand.

“Hey,” he replied.

His eyes darted between Vinnie and you, watching the way Vinnie put his arm back around you, and he felt like he was going to explode.

“Um…” you mumbled awkwardly. “Vinnie, this is Matt, my… My ex. Matt, this is Vinnie, my, um… Vinnie.”

Matt didn’t miss the way your voice caught on the words “my ex”.

He heard the awkward pause.

He heard you call Vinnie your Vinnie.

And he wanted to rip Vinnie’s other arm off when Vinnie pulled you against him as you talked.

Matt clenched his jaw and forced a smile, but he wanted to smash Vinnie’s face.

Nick and Chris were just watching this entire exchange from behind him, and Matt did not want to know what they were thinking right now. He was doing everything he could to make a polite conversation with a massive knot in his chest.

He was forcing himself to look at Vinnie’s face and ignore the fact that Vinnie was holding you against his chest, and he was trying to think of something to say.

He was feeling even more sick to his stomach.

You were so close to him that he could smell your perfume, and he could remember the way you’d smelled every time he’d buried his face in your neck and inhaled your sweet scent.

He could see the smooth, milky white skin of your neck and shoulders just a few inches from him, and he remembered how it tasted and how it smelled the first time he’d kissed it.

But then, hiding right in the corner of your cleavage, something piqued his attention.

You had a hickey on your neck.

The second he saw it, he felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest.

He was frozen in shock for a second.

Someone else had marked you.

He felt a rush of jealousy and rage and heartache and possessiveness all at once, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Vinnie was right there, holding you against him and holding you close, and Matt knew exactly how that hickey had gotten there…

Matt swallowed hard as he stared at it, and he felt the jealousy, anger, and hurt rush through him all over again.

You were his. You’d belonged to him, and someone else had marked you.

He stared at the hickey and wondered exactly how many times he’d done the same thing to your neck.

He tried to count, remembering the times he’d left love bites on your beautiful skin.

You’d always worn them proudly for the next couple of days, and he’d always liked reminding you that you were his.

He could almost hear his voice in his head again, whispering to you that you belonged to him every time he’d pressed his lips to your skin.

He’d tell you how beautiful you were while he left little love bites on your collarbones, and he’d always loved the way he knew they were still there the next day.

And now, as he stood right beside you, someone else had left a hickey on the same spot he’d claimed as his.

He’d marked you as his dozens of times over the past months, and now you were wearing someone else’s marks on your gorgeous neck…

Finally, Vinnie took you back to the couch, sitting so close to you. And Matt almost lost his mind.

He sat right beside you again, and Matt’s hands reflexively clenched into fists. He was watching Vinnie put his arm around you again, and he was watching you snuggle into him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Matt just stared at the way he was holding you, holding you so close, and he was fighting the urge to rip his arm off.

“So… Come on, sit with us,” Madison urged awkwardly, not sure how to cope with the situation.

Matt knew he had to sit down, even though he was desperate to avoid it. He forced himself to move, and he very carefully sat down on the loveseat across the couch. He didn’t want to make eye contact with Vinnie, and he didn’t want to keep staring at you either.

They were all sitting around just chatting now, and Matt felt like he wanted to throw up. He kept glancing at the hickey on your neck, and he kept watching the way Vinnie held you. He had his arm draped over your shoulders, and he was rubbing your upper arm with his thumb and touching you like it was no big deal

Matt wanted to grab him by the throat, and he was forcing himself to keep his hands balled up on his thighs instead. Every few seconds, he would glance at the little red mark on your neck, and he would feel another twinge of jealousy and possessiveness every single time.

Suddenly, Chris said something, and even though Matt didn’t catch any of it, he was grateful, because he could not have made conversation right now.

Vinnie smiled and ran his hand over your shoulder, his fingertips brushing your bare skin.

Matt clenched his jaw. He wanted to bite his tongue until it bled, and he wanted to scream and punch something.

He didn’t understand how Vinnie could be touching you like that with such a smug look on his face, and he wanted to murder him for thinking he had the right to put his hands on you.

He watched Vinnie brush his fingertips over your shoulder and trace along the edge of the fabric of your dress…

You were sitting there completely comfortable while someone else’s hands were on you, and Matt thought that might be even more upsetting than the hickey itself.

He was the one that was supposed to be touching you, holding you, rubbing your skin with his thumb like that…

Nobody else was supposed to have those privileges. Nobody.

Chris and Nick were chatting with Madison about something, and Matt was painfully aware that he should be engaging in the conversation. He kept his eyes on them, making sure they were distracted, before finally stealing a glance and you and Vinnie.

You were facing each other now, and he watched as Vinnie touched your cheek with his hand. He was touching your face, and he was doing it with such affection that he might as well have been declaring himself as your boyfriend.

Touching your face was the single most personal thing that Matt had ever done with you, and he wasn’t going to tolerate someone else daring to touch you that way.

He watched Vinnie put his hand against your cheek and slide it down to the side of your neck… He almost lost it when he touched the spot he’d just been staring at. He heard you giggle as Vinnie touched the hickey and he wanted to throw up.

“So…” Nick suddenly couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Are you two, like…?”

Finally, the question was out there.

Matt was desperate to know the answer.

He watched you and Vinnie share a look, and his heart was in his throat as he waited for the response.

You seemed to be communicating with the look.

You were just looking at him, and Matt could see a hint of nervousness on your face…

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but he thought he might have seen you bite your lip slightly.

A few more seconds of you just sitting there silently passed, and Matt realized that he was holding his breath.

You were both looking back and forth between each other and back to him and back to each other, and he was desperate for one of you to finally say something.

“We, um…” You let out a nervous chuckle. “We’re… Talking.”

Matt’s heart sank.

Somehow, hearing you say that was a million times worse than if you’d just said, “Yes”.

Talking.

You and Vinnie were discussing what you were to each other. Like you were deciding if you were dating.

He suddenly wanted to rip his hair out.

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

You had a hickey on your neck from Vinnie, and you were telling him that you were deciding if you were dating…

He suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, and he wanted to smash Vinnie’s face into a wall at the same time.

Talking wasn’t dating, and Matt felt a small flicker of relief that you hadn’t just told him that you were officially a couple yet.

But you had a hickey on your neck.

If his official boyfriend status still wasn’t established, how had that happened?

He glanced at the hickey again, his eyes tracing over the little red mark on your skin.

There was no way you’d just let someone else mark you if you didn’t think he was going to be your boyfriend…

And now you and Vinnie were discussing it, and it felt like he’d been stabbed straight through the heart.

But even if you weren’t dating, you were sleeping together. And that killed him.

Matt was staring at you, but his vision was starting to go blurry, his chest was getting tighter, and it was getting harder to breathe and he was so upset he felt like he was going to vomit all over the floor.

Somehow, he heard himself say, “You mean like… Dating?”

You licked your lips nervously. “We're... Seeing each other. Casually. For now.”

Casually.

His heart was beating so hard that he felt like it was going to burst through his chest, and he felt a wave of nausea wash over him.

The idea that you’d decided to date casually was horrifying.

He couldn’t believe you’d just jump from an intense, passionate relationship with him to a casual dating scenario with Vinnie.

His first instinct was to protest… To say that you couldn’t do that… To tell you that you needed to break it off with Vinnie right now because you couldn’t make the transition… Couldn’t start casually dating someone right after the crazy, passionate situation that you’d just had with him…

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t look you in the eye.

He glanced down at the floor as he swallowed thickly, his mind starting to race with the new information.

“How long have you guys been seeing each other?” It was all he could think to ask.

His voice was raspy and cracked, but he needed to know. He had to know just how much he’d missed out on, how long you’d been with someone else instead of him.

"About a month," Vinnie answered with a grin, almost proudly, hugging you a little tighter.

Matt’s heart ached at Vinnie’s answer.

Three months. They’d been broken up for three months, and you’d been seeing Vinnie for a month. That meant he’d spent a month missing you—wishing he could be the one holding you like that, wishing he was the one to put his hands all over you like that—while someone else got to do it instead.

And now you were letting him do it, and you were even giggling about something while he was whispering into your ear and touching your skin with his fingertips.

Matt was starting to feel like he was underwater.

He was trying to take deep, steady breaths, but he felt like he was breathing in mud or something, like someone was holding his head under water and his lungs were filling up with something poisonous.

It had been three months of him missing you, of him crying over you, of him thinking of you.

And this was what you’d been doing instead of being with him. Of you dating someone else—someone so much worse than him—and of you letting someone else hold you and touch you like that.

He hated the way Vinnie’s hand was stroking your arm like he had the right to do that.

He hated the way your body was curled into his like you felt comfortable being so physically close to Vinnie.

But more than anything, he hated the way your hand was on Vinnie’s thigh, so casually… Like it was an everyday occurrence for you to touch someone else.

His eyes kept catching on that damn hickey, and he couldn’t help but stare at it again.

You were letting someone else give you love bites, and it made him feel like he might throw up.

Because how Vinnie could ever truly satisfy you? Did he really even know you? Did he know your needs? Knew what you liked? How you sounded? How you looked?

Of course, he didn’t know those things. And if he did, he couldn’t know all of them…

There was no way that Vinnie knew how to satisfy you like he could.

And that just made it all so much worse.

The fact that you were letting someone else touch you and claim you and make you giggle and make you smile and make your body sing and oh God, he was going to explode, he was going to scream, he couldn’t take this pain, he couldn’t breathe…

He was gripping his thighs so tightly now that his knuckles were white, and his chest was so tight that he couldn’t take deep enough breaths.

He could feel panic closing in around him, and he was just trying to fight the urge to grab you, and pull you away, and shake some sense into you.

He wanted to shake you until you realized that you didn’t belong with Vinnie, that you belonged with him, and that the way Vinnie was touching you was a crime because you were his, and his alone…

He didn’t care if Vinnie was more famous or more rich or more muscular or anything like that. He just knew that he knew you the best. He knew you the most intimately, and his love for you was more intense than anything Vinnie could offer.

He was the one who would have done anything for you, and he was the one who was so, so incredibly deeply in love with you that it was tearing him apart at the seams. He was the one who had taken the most care to learn your body and your needs specifically.

He couldn’t believe you’d let someone else touch you like that. He couldn’t believe you’d let someone else mark you like he had the right to claim you like that…

He knew he’d be gentle with you, and he knew he’d be soft with you, and he knew he’d be so, so damn passionate every time he put his mouth on you.

He knew your body and he knew the spots that made your toes curl and he knew the way you sounded when you came.

He couldn’t understand how you’d be satisfied with casually sleeping with Vinnie.

He could see you leaning up against Vinnie, laughing at something he was saying, and he felt like he was dying.

How could he be making you laugh like that when it was Matt who made you laugh so hard it sounded like the sweetest music on earth?

How could he be making you feel so casual and comfortable when the things Matt did to you made you melt into a puddle?

He couldn’t do this anymore.

He just couldn’t stomach watching you lean up against Vinnie and let him laugh and touch you and whisper into your ear and do all the things that Matt had been doing to you for months.

He knew he had no right to be feeling these things, and he knew that you didn’t belong to him anymore…

But goddamn, it still hurt.

He’d tried as hard as he could to contain himself, but he couldn’t do it anymore.

He suddenly shot to his feet and turned so fast that his head swam, making his way out of the room as quickly as possible without breaking into a run.

He managed to slam the bathroom door shut behind him, immediately lurching forward to catch himself on the sink.

There was a ringing in his ears, and his vision was still swimming a little from how fast he’d stood up, and he suddenly felt nauseous.

He gripped the edge of the sink so hard that his joints felt like they were threatening to pop, and he was struggling to pull in deep enough breaths.

Everything was just crashing into him all at once: the fact that you had a hickey on your neck, the fact that you’d been seeing someone else, the fact that it had been a month and he’d been missing you the entire time…

He suddenly felt like he was on fire, and he reached up to grab at his hair before doubling over, his stomach suddenly turning in an intense wave of nausea.

He hadn’t eaten much all day, and he was suddenly very dizzy, and he didn’t think he’d ever experienced this level of emotional pain in his entire life.

It was like he was being tortured: his entire body was aching from how much it hurt to experience this level of anguish.

He was gripping the edge of the sink so hard that he was surprised the porcelain didn’t crack under the pressure, and he was breathing so hard that he wondered if it was possible for a person to die of heartache.

His chest was agonizingly tight, and he was suddenly wondering if it was possible for a person’s heart to actually break.

He was gripping the side of the sink with one hand, and bracing his other one against the wall, and he was struggling to control his breathing long enough to force himself to inhale and exhale and stay standing.

He was bent over so far that his forehead was almost touching the cool countertop of the bathroom sink, and he was struggling to stay conscious and keep taking deep breaths…

For a second, he thought he was hallucinating when he heard a knock on the door.

It was like his mind was playing a trick on him, trying to convince him that there was someone on the other side of the door because he was so damn close to passing out…

Before he could realize it, he was already being helped to sit down on the cool bathroom floor, but everything was so blurry, that he barely could register anything.

He tried to focus, but he felt so disoriented.

The room was shifting in and out of focus, and his head was pounding, and the world was suddenly spinny and fuzzy and just… Wrong.

His vision focused for a few seconds, and he finally recognized who was helping him, and he suddenly couldn’t help but wonder if it might be better if he did pass out…

He stared up at you, his eyes searching your face.

Everything kind of slowed down as he looked at you, and it was almost like he was seeing you for the first time.

He took you in slowly as if he was suddenly memorizing every millimeter of you.

Your hair was a little rumpled, and your cheeks were flush, and he couldn’t tell if your eyes looked worried or concerned or both.

He was suddenly aware of the fact that you were leaning over him, studying his face, and he realized that you were holding him.

“Hey… Hey, can you hear me?” you asked but your voice sounded like he was underwater.

He tried to swallow, but he didn’t seem to have enough saliva in his mouth to make his throat move.

He suddenly remembered that you’d asked him a question, and he was trying to form some words, but he felt like his tongue didn’t work either.

He couldn’t figure out how to make any sounds.

“Breathe, okay?” His hand suddenly found itself pressed against your chest, feeling the steady beating of your heart. “Feel my heart. Try to match my breathing.”

He could feel the steady thumping of your heart under his palm, and he suddenly felt like he wanted to crawl inside your chest so he could burrow himself right up against your heart.

It was a steady, reassuring thump thump thump, and even if he couldn’t control the rest of his body, he at least seemed to be taking breaths in time with the beating of your heart.

You were always so good at helping him with his anxiety, with his panic attacks. You knew exactly what to do to make him calm down. But it didn't help much when the reason was you. You and your new lover.

He couldn’t help but remember a time when you’d been helping him through a panic attack in your bed… He couldn’t help but remember the way you would press your chest up against his back, and the way you’d whisper in his ear to try and soothe him.

It was just another thing that he’d taken for granted, and he’d been so damn clueless to not realize how spoiled he’d been that you’d done things like that for him…

And he suddenly wanted you to stop helping him, because even though you were being so gentle and careful while you talked to him, and even though you were holding him like he was the most valuable thing in your entire world, you weren’t his.

You were Vinnie’s, and he had never felt more painfully aware of that fact than he did at this very moment.

He tried to swallow again, and suddenly it was a little easier, and he almost had enough saliva in his mouth now.

And just like before, he could feel your heart thumping under his hand, and he suddenly didn’t want you to stop holding him, because it was the closest he’d been to your body in months, and even if you weren’t his anymore, he couldn’t get himself to stop craving you.

His hand was still pressed up against your chest, and he could feel your chest expanding against his palm every time you took a deep breath.

It was reminding him of the way you’d hold him when he was feeling particularly anxious. You liked to have him rest his head on your chest so that he could feel the movement of your breathing and mirror your breathing pace.

He suddenly realized that you were probably doing that on purpose, because you knew that it would help calm his breathing even more, and he wished that you’d just stop caring about him like this.

He loved the way you always knew exactly what to do to help him, and he loved how familiar you were with his anxiety, but it just made you leaving worse, because he knew that no one else could help him like you did.

He was suddenly reminded of the first time you’d ever helped him with a panic attack, and how you’d learned quickly to recognize the signs that he was starting to freak out.

You’d known what to look for in his body language, and you’d gotten so familiar with the way he tensed up, how his eyes unfocused, and how his breathing escalated whenever he started to struggle.

You noticed that he left suddenly, and you noticed that he was probably losing control, and you abandoned Vinnie to come and comfort him, even though he didn’t have any right to your comfort.

But you came anyways, and you knelt down and you held him the way you always did, and you were being so damn soft and so damn gentle with him, and he ached with how much he missed you…

“Are you okay?” you whispered suddenly.

He felt like that was such an awful, stupid question that it almost would’ve hurt worse if you hadn’t asked it.

Because the answer was so obviously no, he was not okay.

He was so far from being okay that he couldn’t even see “okay” as a distant speck on the horizon

He was drowning. He was dying. He was breaking from missing you. From still loving you. From having to watch you with someone else.

Matt suddenly felt like he wanted to scream out how not okay he was, but he was worried that if he opened his mouth, the only sound that would come out would be a strangled whimper of pain.

His chest was aching with the way he still loved you, and every time he breathed, it felt like his heart was getting crushed.

He knew there was a certain amount of “emotional pain” that a person’s body could endure before it became literally intolerable, and he was suddenly wondering if a person could die of heartache.

He had this sick, twisted thought that maybe dying would be easier than dealing with the sharp, intense, overwhelming pain he had whenever he saw you.

Whenever he saw you smiling at Vinnie. Whenever he saw you laughing with Vinnie. Whenever he saw you leaning into Vinnie, with that look in your eyes…

“Please, I'm really worried.” He suddenly heard your quiet voice, full of concern.

He heard how worried you sounded, and he suddenly wanted to reassure you that he was fine.

He wanted to tell you that you could go back to Vinnie and that you didn’t need to worry about him, and that he didn’t want you to worry about him, and that he wanted you to be happy with Vinnie…

But he suddenly felt like he might start sobbing from how not fine he was if he tried to speak.

He tried to take in a deeper breath, but he knew he was on the verge of a really bad panic attack, because every time he tried to inhale, it got harder and harder for his chest to expand.

He was drowning, he was dying, and he suddenly couldn’t think of any way to make you stop being so goddamn concerned and worried about him right now.

He wanted to scream at you to go away, to stop being so soft, to stop touching him like this, and to stop making him remember all the things he loved about you.

But he could only focus on the movement of your chest under his, because every time you breathed, your chest gently expanded against his palm, reminding him of the way he’d sleep with his head on your chest at night.

“Matt, please, breathe…” you whispered desperately.

He was trying to breathe, but he suddenly felt like he couldn’t even remember how, and his chest felt so tight, and he didn’t know how to fix it because it suddenly felt like his body was rejecting every attempt he made at breathing and the more he tried to force himself to get a lungful of air, the worse it seemed to get.

He felt his heart rate speeding up again, and he felt like he was starting to hyperventilate, and he was terrified that he was going to pass out again, and he suddenly started to struggle to control his breathing even more.

And then, when nothing else worked, and he was on the verge of passing out from the lack of oxygen… Your lips suddenly were on his.

Every thought suddenly vanished from his mind, and all at once he was so overwhelmed with how perfect your lips felt against his that the only thing he could think about how good it felt…

He suddenly completely forgot about everything else, and he only focused on how it felt to have your breath mingling with his, and how it felt to have your lips working against his.

Your lips were so soft on his, and he remembered the way your mouths always seemed to fit so perfectly together and he felt like he’d been starving this entire time, and you were the only thing he’d been craving to fill the aching void inside him.

When you pulled away, he’d leaned up to follow you, and he’d almost whimpered at the loss of your mouth against his.

But he was breathing.

He was still struggling to get enough oxygen, but every breath was feeling less constricted than it had a minute ago.

He suddenly wanted you to kiss him again.

He wanted to feel your mouth on his for longer than the few short seconds you’d just given him, because he’d almost forgotten how much he’d craved something as simple as your kiss, and he suddenly wanted to beg you to kiss him again because at least if you were kissing him, you weren’t kissing Vinnie.

“Is that better?” you whispered, your voice still full of worry.

He could only nod because his chest was still tight as you looked at him with that worry-filled expression on your beautiful face.

He suddenly wanted to lie to you and tell you that he was fine and that you didn’t need to worry about him, and that you could go back to Vinnie without any guilt, but he’d never lied well enough to fool you before, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fool you now.

His chest suddenly ached from loving you so much.

His entire body ached from the desire he had for you, because his skin suddenly buzzed from how much he wanted to touch you, and he felt like he had to clench his hands into fists to keep from reaching up to touch your face, or touch your hair, or run his fingers down your bare arms.

He was suddenly very aware of just how much of your skin he could see right now, and he suddenly couldn’t stop himself from studying your body and remembering all the memories he harbored of what your skin felt like against his palms, or under his mouth.

He tried to keep his eyes focused on your face, but he suddenly couldn’t keep his attention away from the bare skin of your thighs, and he suddenly couldn’t help but imagine what you’d look like underneath him, in the way he hadn’t had the privilege to do in months.

He couldn’t help but wonder what you’d look like on top of him, straddling his waist in the same way he used to hold you, and he suddenly felt like he could practically taste your skin in his mouth as he struggled to breathe around the desire he had for you.

“Matt, talk to me,” you said pleadingly.

He couldn’t talk to you, because if he’d opened his mouth, he was going to say something awful, like how he still loved you, or how he didn’t want you to be with anyone but him, or how he didn’t want you kissing anyone but him.

He suddenly didn’t trust himself to keep his tongue from spitting out the truth that he was dying inside because he still wanted you to be his.

Matt wanted to ask you why you kissed him. He wanted to know if you did it because you wanted to make him feel better, or if you just did it out of reflex.

He loved that you still seemed so worried for him, and he loved that you’d come to his aid, but he suddenly wished that you hadn’t done something like kiss him, because it just made loving you harder.

And as if you could read his mind, you explained. But then again, you always knew him better than he knew himself. “You couldn't breathe. And when… When I kissed you, you held your breath. I… I read once that holding your breath can stop a panic attack.”

He hated that you were right and that you’d probably read that somewhere, because he hated that you could fix him when he didn’t even deserve your help, and he suddenly didn’t trust himself to hold his tongue back any longer.

He suddenly felt like he had to let you know the truth, and he suddenly didn’t know how to stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

“I miss you.”

The words suddenly slipped out before he had the chance to stop them, and he sounded so desperate as he said them, and he knew that you hadn’t missed how helpless and lost he truly was, because you knew him too well now.

Your face suddenly fell, and Matt was almost sure he saw the exact moment when your heart broke.

He could see how those three words had clearly hurt you, and he hated that he caused you pain, in any form, but he couldn’t stop himself from staring into your eyes and telling you the truth.

“I miss you, all the time.”

He suddenly felt like if he said those words out loud, you might understand just how badly he was aching from missing you, and how he couldn’t get through each passing day without hurting from how much he still longed for you.

“Matt…” You sighed, your voice broken.

He loved how soft your voice still was when you spoke his name, and he ached with longing for you, even as he stared into your eyes.

“I miss you every night when I go to bed,” he suddenly blurted out, because he couldn’t hold anything back from you now.

He didn’t have the power to hold his tongue back anymore, because you were staring at him with your big, beautiful eyes, and he was drowning in how much he missed you.

“I sleep on your side of the bed because it still smells like you,” he whispered, the words rushing out like he couldn’t stop the truth from leaving his mouth now.

He felt like he was confessing his deepest, darkest secret to you now, but he felt like he just needed you to know how much he was aching without you, and how badly he was struggling without being able to curl up against you.

“I’ve taken your pillows and your blankets, but nothing is as soft as you are,” he confessed in a voice that he couldn’t control anymore.

He felt like he was spilling his soul into your hands, opening up about the small details of how he’d been coping without you, and how he’d just been aching and struggling and missing you every single night.

“All day, every day, I just miss you,” he got out in a voice that sounded strangled.

He felt like he couldn’t swallow past the lump in his throat, and he felt like he wanted to beg you to come back to him, and to stop making him so damn lonely all of the time…

“I… I can’t eat,” he blurted out, and his voice sounded thick, raspy, and choked up.

Matt suddenly felt like he didn’t want to admit to you how he’d lost weight since you’d left because he didn’t want you to be so worried for him, but he suddenly needed you to know, so that you knew how badly you were affecting how he was taking care of himself.

“I skip meals,” he got out in another confession because he could tell you were looking worried for him now, and he suddenly had to get it out before you could start fretting about him. “I don’t mean to, but when I think of eating, it makes my stomach hurt. And when I try to force myself to eat, I get sick to my stomach, and I feel like I’m gonna puke it right back up.”

Your eyes were full of tears, and you were covering your lips with your hand, but you were listening.

“I can never sleep for more than a few hours,” he whispered next because he suddenly felt like he needed you to know just how much restlessness haunted him now. “And… And whenever I go too long without sleeping, my anxiety gets worse.”

“My chest gets really tight, and I have nightmares,” he confessed because he knew that you needed to know how much his mental health was deteriorating without you because you always seemed to be the thing that grounded him from spiraling into anxiety attacks or breakdowns.

He wanted you to know every little detail of how he’d been struggling without you.

“I have these nightmares every night, but… But they feel like they could be real, and they make me so scared to go to sleep because I dream about losing you,” he admitted because he felt like he had to explain just how scared he was of losing you altogether.

He suddenly wanted you to understand how his thoughts consumed him, without you to help him stay focused.

“And when I’m awake, I can’t stop thinking,” he blurted out. “My mind is racing all the time, because I can’t stop thinking about you, and I can’t stop missing you, and my mind just won’t stop screaming for you. All. The. Time…”

“And my head hurts. My heart hurts. My chest hurts. My stomach hurts. I ache everywhere without you. And, and, I just need you…” he admitted in a voice that sounded like he was broken.

“Matt…” you whispered once again, your voice breaking.

“I need you,” he repeated, and he was desperate for you to understand how badly he was struggling without you. “I can’t… I can’t sleep without you. I can’t eat without you. I can’t shower without imagining you’re with me, because I just need you all the time. In every way.”

“And it hurts so badly,” he got out in a raspy voice, finally admitting the aching he’d been suffering through for so long. “It hurts so badly that I can’t hug you, or touch you, or… Or, or be with you. I can’t stop missing you. I can’t stop craving you. I can’t stop loving you…”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out as you continued to silently cry, not even sure what to say anymore.

He suddenly couldn’t keep himself from confessing his thoughts to you.

“And, and it’s been hell without you, imagining you with another guy,” he blurted out, unable to keep himself from admitting how much he hated that you were with someone other than him.

“And, and I keep thinking about how he’s kissing you, and touching you, and taking you, and I just— God, how I hate him,” he got out in a strangled voice, and he felt like he was going to be sick…

“It just makes me so, so, so sick, thinking about how he gets to touch you now. How he gets to kiss you, and touch your bare skin, and taste you, and— God, I just— I just fucking hate it,” he whispered in a voice that still sounded broken, aching, and desperate.

“It’s driving me crazy to think that he can touch you, and taste you, and be with you when I want you so badly I can’t see straight.”

Matt knew he sounded possessive and obsessive, but he couldn’t help it, because he had been wanting you so badly for so goddamn long now.

“It hurts so bad to think about you with him. And how he gets to have you… I can’t stop thinking about you in bed with him. And— and— I just—” he suddenly trailed off, because he felt like his heart was throbbing inside his chest

“I just… God, I just want you back,” he whispered in an aching voice because he felt like he’d been dying inside without you. “So badly… I’ve just been wanting you so damn badly, and I just… I just can’t stop…” he repeated, and he suddenly felt like he’d never stop aching for you.

“You're the one who ended things,” you reminded him in a broken whisper.

He suddenly felt like a knife plunged into his heart as you reminded him that he was the one who had ended things between you.

Of course, he knew that he was the one who had walked away from you. Of course, he knew that his reasons hadn’t been the best ones and that they hadn’t been good enough to justify his decision.

But God, hearing you say those words to him, it felt like you were reminding him that he was to blame for his suffering now.

His eyes suddenly blurred from unfallen tears, and he suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“I…” he whispered faintly, trying to form a response to explain himself, since you still didn’t know exactly why he’d ended things with you.

“I…” he suddenly whispered again, because he felt like he was drowning from how badly he’d missed you, and from how he’d just exposed how broken he was.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, and he could hear how raspy his own voice was sounding, and he felt his throat suddenly closing up on him now. “I’m so, so sorry…”

“I was waiting for you for over a month,” you whispered, your voice choked. “And you waited until I started to move on to say anything.”

He felt like his throat was going to close up on him, and he felt like it was impossible to even swallow as he remembered how he’d just let you wait for him.

God, he’d been such an idiot for making you wait for him this entire time, and he knew it had been wrong of him, and now you were moving on, and it was his fault.

“I… I was… I was scared,” he confessed because he didn’t have the heart to lie to you.

He just couldn’t hold the truth in any longer.

“I was scared to reach out again, even though I’d been missing you the entire time,” he whispered because he knew you’d been right. He’d waited too damn long.

You sighed shakily. “Vinnie… Is a really nice guy. He treats me really good, Matt.”

His entire body suddenly felt like it stung from how badly he didn’t want to hear how you were with a nice guy.

“Yeah?” he whispered, but he didn’t care right now how you were being treated by someone else.

He suddenly didn’t care how nice he was to you.

He suddenly didn’t care how much you probably liked Vinnie.

He suddenly only cared about what he wanted from you, and how badly he missed you.

“Does he hold you tight?” he blurted out, suddenly desperate to learn everything he could about you now that you were with another guy. “Does he touch you?”

The words were rushing out of him before he’d even had the chance to stop them.

Your eyes widened as he caught you off guard, but you answered anyway, “Yes. He does.”

His heart throbbed at your answer, and he suddenly felt sick from learning that you let another guy touch you the same way he used to touch you.

“Does he kiss you?” he whispered desperately, unable to stop himself from learning the answer.

“Yes,” you whispered shakily.

His stomach churned and ached as you admitted that you’d been kissing someone else other than him.

“Does he… Does he make you feel good?” he whispered, and suddenly he just had to know if this guy was giving you everything he’d used to give you. He felt like his entire body was throbbing from how badly he wanted to know if you liked doing those things with this Vinnie guy. “Does he… Does he please you?”

“He does.”

He felt like his heart was being torn out of his chest, and he felt like he’d been punched as you admitted that this Vinnie guy was pleasing you just as well as he used to…

He didn’t know how the hell to respond to that information, as he felt like he’d been stabbed, but he just couldn’t stop himself from asking another question.

“Are you… Does he, um… Does he make you, um…” Matt tried to ask you another question, but suddenly couldn’t get it out of his mouth, because he felt like he was choking at even just the thought of this guy touching you in any way.

But you understood anyway, your voice being a broken whisper. “Yes.”

His heart stung and ached even more as you confirmed his suspicions that this Vinnie guy was… He was giving you what you needed.

He could feel himself choking at that realization.

He closed his eyes, and he suddenly was trying to take a deep breath, but his entire body was aching so badly now, and his chest was so damn tight…

Matt suddenly didn’t even really have any more words, because there wasn’t anything else he could say to you. He’d gotten the answers to his questions, and he’d learned that he really was too late to salvage anything between you.

He opened his eyes and looked at you once again, and he suddenly had to swallow down a thick lump in his throat as he gazed at your face. Your eyes were sparkling faintly, probably from tears, but he didn’t know if they were tears of happiness or tears of sadness.

He didn’t know if you were happy with this other guy, or if you were still just as miserable and lonely as him.

He just wanted to know if he’d lost his chance at the only thing that would ever make him completely happy.

“Are you… Do you love him?” he whispered because it was the only question he could think to ask now.

Your eyes widened before you averted your gaze, not answering. The first question you didn't answer.

His stomach churned and ached at your silence, and he took a shuddering breath as he realized that her silence was a much louder answer than you knew.

But he still wanted you to say the words, just so that he could know for sure.

“Y/N,” he whispered, and his voice was raspy from how badly he was aching from this. “Are you in love with him?”

And then, his world came to a halt. Because you said, „No.”

Matt felt like his heart skipped a beat, and he felt like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs as he heard the word ‘no’ come out of your mouth.

He stared at you for a few seconds, and his head suddenly started to spin at what you’d just confessed to him…

“W… What?” he choked out, his voice strangled.

“Not yet, at least,” you clarified quietly.

Not yet. Yet. Meaning you weren’t in love with him right now, but someday, you could be…

Somehow, that little yet was the worst thing you could’ve said to him, because it gave him some kind of sickening hope that maybe, somehow, he still had some kind of chance with you.

He felt a fresh wave of nausea as he thought about it.

Someday, you could end up falling in love with this guy.

And someday, you could end up marrying him.

All of these thoughts suddenly swirled in his head, and he felt like his whole world was closing in around him now, like he couldn’t breathe…

He was overwhelmed by the idea of that, of you someday falling in love with this guy, of you someday marrying him, and of you someday doing all the things that you’d once said you’d only do with him…

He couldn’t breathe, and his body was suddenly shaking so badly that he thought he’d fall if he wasn't already sitting on the floor.

Matt closed his eyes because it was all too much.

It was too much, to think about you someday doing all the things you’d once said you only want to do with him with someone else.

It was too much, to think about you falling in love with anyone other than him.

He suddenly felt so, so alone, more than he’d ever felt in his life.

Matt heard a strangled sound come out of his own throat, and he realized that it was a strangled sob and that the tears had finally started spilling over his eyes.

“Please,” he heard himself whispering, and he felt so desperate now that he was so on the edge. “Please don’t fall in love with him…”

“Matt…” You sighed shakily.

He suddenly heard his own broken voice begging you.

“Please, please, please, don’t,” he pleaded, and God, he could hear desperation in his voice. “Please don’t fall in love with him, because… God, I just—”

He cut himself off, feeling like his heart was breaking all over again at how utterly hopeless this was.

His shoulders shuddered with a sob, and hot tears burned his throat and his eyes as he stared at you, still begging you not to fall in love with him. “Because, and, if you love him, then… then I… I…”

He stopped as his breath suddenly caught in his chest, because he felt like saying what he was about to say would just break his heart again, and he wouldn’t be able to survive it this time.

But no matter how awful and sickening it would be, he knew that he had to say it.

“If you fall in love with him, I won’t—“ he blurted out, his voice shaky, cracking, and breaking, “I won’t be able to survive it… I already can’t breathe without you…”

“I've waited… For you to call, for you to text me… For two months. And you didn't,” you whispered. “And when... And when I decided it was time to move on, you… You say all that.”

He felt a new wave of nausea at that, knowing just how badly he’d screwed up for you to say those words to him.

Of course, you had to move on. He hadn’t given you much of a choice, now had he?

The last three months had been hell, and he’d been so damn scared and hopeless.

And now, he was hearing the bitter truth that he’d driven you straight to another guy’s arms.

Matt let out another strangled sob as you pointed it out to him, because God, it was just too painful and horrible to hear out loud.

“I… I waited too long… I know I did…” he replied, in a strangled voice. “I just was so… so scared to reach out… because… I didn’t think you’d even want to hear from me…”

He squeezed his eyes closed, and he pressed a hand to his chest as if he were trying to slow his racing heart. The pain and the heartache of these last three months had been nearly too much to handle, and he suddenly couldn’t stop himself from admitting it to you now.

“I… I didn’t think you’d even want to see me…” he whispered, and his voice broke, and he suddenly wasn’t even capable of keeping the tears from flowing down his face now.

Matt looked at you again, seeing the pain on your face, and feeling another wave of nausea at being the cause of it.

Jesus, he’d really, really done a number on you by leaving you…

He swallowed hard because he didn’t know what else to say right now, and he was trying to force himself to breathe because he suddenly didn’t even feel like he could right now.

He took a few more shaky breaths, trying to still his racing heart, because God, he was just so overwhelmed and overcome by seeing you and talking to you right now, and by learning that you were with someone else, and by admitting that he’d nearly driven himself to utter depression by leaving you.

“I just… I need… I need to know one thing. Are you happy?” he suddenly asked, and he didn’t even know if he wanted to know the answer, because it had been torture to think about you being with someone else, and it had been hell to think about you being happier with someone else.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. There was a clear conflict in your eyes. And you didn't answer.

Matt suddenly felt like he was being punched in the stomach by how silent you remained, how you weren’t saying anything.

He felt utterly sick at your silence because it was so obvious now that you weren’t… You weren’t happy. He’d always been able to tell when you were really, really happy, and he hadn’t seen that look on your face when you’d been talking about that guy.

No, you weren’t. You were miserable.

It hurt more than he could express just hearing it in your silence.

It hurt like hell to know that you weren’t even happy with someone else…

“God,” he whispered, as the anguish of your silence suddenly hit him full force, and his shoulders started to shake again. “God, I feel so sick…”

He pressed a trembling hand to his mouth, trying to hold back another strangled sob from escaping his throat as he felt sick to his stomach just thinking about you being miserable and alone while still being with someone else.

He’d put you through this… He’d put you through hell, and he’d made you miserable…

And that made him feel like a piece of utter scum.

His body shuddered with another sob, and tears were falling freely again, and he felt so utterly helpless and hopeless at how screwed up this situation was.

“Jesus, please… I don’t want you to be miserable…” he whispered, and his own heartbreak was practically written all over his face now. “Please don’t be miserable…”

“I'm not miserable,” you whispered shakily. “Just… Not as happy as I used to be.”

He felt like your words had just stabbed him.

Hearing that you weren’t as happy as you used to be was so much worse than finding out you were miserable… Because you used to be utterly happy when you’d been with him.

“God, I… I can’t…” he whispered, and suddenly another strangled sob escaped his throat. “I can’t stand hearing that you’re not as happy…”

He pressed a hand to his mouth and shuddered again, trying to suppress the sudden, overwhelming urge to throw up right now as the grief just kept piling up.

You’d been so happy when you’d been with him. It was so obvious. He’d seen how happy you’d been. And now… now, you were just… not.

He suddenly had a flashback to your face, to you laughing and smiling and having fun with him, and his heart ached as he remembered how you’d always looked when he’d been with you…

“God, you used to be so damn happy,” he breathed out, and his voice was strangled. “You were so damn happy when you were with me…”

“I was,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

He let out another strangled sob at your reply, because hearing that you’d been happy when you’d been with him, and hearing that you weren’t anymore…

It was so much more horrible than anything that you could’ve said to him.

“I’m such a dick…” he breathed out, and he felt fresh tears burn and fall from his eyes.

He felt like he’d been sucker-punched because he knew that it was all his fault… He was the one who’d left you and hurt you, and his leaving was the reason why you weren’t as happy as you used to be.

“God, I hurt you…” he whispered, and he pressed his hands to his face now, trying to muffle his sobs.

He felt like he was drowning now, like the weight of this guilt and depression and regret was just pulling him further and further underwater.

“I’m so sorry…” he breathed out, and his whole body shuddered again as he tried to breathe. “God, I’m so sorry…”

You curled up against the wall, pulling your knees to your chest. Matt let out a strangled sob at the sight of you like that.

Jesus, you’d always curled up like that when you’d been sad or upset and he’d always held you… And you’d always laid your head against his chest and he’d held you so tightly.

God, how he suddenly longed to hold you again…

He longed to hold you in his arms, comfort you, and tell you how sorry he was.

And he longed to tell you to leave that guy and leave that miserable life and come back to him…

He looked at you, and his whole chest ached as he saw you were almost in the same position that he’d held you in a hundred times.

Jesus… He couldn’t stand this…

“Please come here…” he whispered, and the words left his mouth before he’d even realized what he was saying.

His whole body was aching with the need to hold you, and this situation was so screwed up and his emotions were so all over the place right now that he couldn’t even think straight, and he suddenly heard himself pleading to you.

“Please… Please come here and let me hold you like I used to…”

You were shaking and you knew you shouldn’t, but… You did it anyway.

Matt felt a fresh wave of nausea as you did actually comply and started shuffling over to him. And he tried to ignore the fact that you were wearing that tight, little dress.

He couldn’t resist the urge to touch you now, and he reached out to grab you. He reached out and pulled you so that you were settled down between his legs, your back was pressed up against his chest, and your head was resting just under his chin.

And he realized that it felt so good, so right, to hold you this way again…

He reached one arm around you and pressed his whole body up against yours, and he suddenly shivered, because he forgot how good it felt to have your body against his.

“Why, Matt?” Your body was trembling from surpassed sobs. “Why did you leave?”

He closed his eyes at that and held you even tighter as he heard the pain in your voice. His heart ached again as he realized how badly he’d hurt you, and it ached to hear that pain in your voice still, even after three months…

“God, baby…” he whispered, and his voice was choked again. “I left because I’m stupid…”

He turned his face down and nuzzled his face into your hair, taking a deep shuddering breath.

“I left… Because I’m a dumb jerk… And an idiot…” he whispered, his voice breaking again. “And because I’m a coward… And a fool…”

“It’s not a reason,” you reminded him in a hushed whisper.

He breathed out a shaky sigh because you were right. Those reasons didn’t matter… They didn’t matter at all…

It had still been such a complete mistake to leave you.

He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to break down again, and he started to admit the real reason: the true reason why he’d left.

“I left you because I was scared,” he whispered, in a choked voice. “So goddamn scared…”

“Scared of what, Matt?”

His shoulders shuddered and his breath hitched in his throat as he finally admitted it: the real reason why he’d left you… The thing he’d been running from for months…

“I was scared of everything,” he whispered. “I was scared of losing you… Scared that you’d get sick of me and leave me… Scared that one day you’d wake up and decide you didn’t want me anymore or that you wanted someone else… I was scared that you’d…”

He suddenly couldn’t say the words.

Because, God, thinking them had been hard enough, but saying them was practically impossible.

Hearing them out loud would be unbearable…

He swallowed hard again, forcing himself to say the words that would just wreck him.

“I was scared you’d… You’d stop loving me…”

Your eyes squeezed shut and another wave of tears spilled down your cheeks.

He felt his throat closing up again as he heard you crying now.

God… He realized how horrible and selfish and shitty this all sounded.

He felt an urge to just keep talking and just keep pouring out all this shitty and awful and screwed up stuff because he suddenly felt like he just had to get it all off his chest.

“I was scared that you’d wake up one day and realize that I’m just a nothing,” he blurted out, and he suddenly felt like he was falling apart again. “That…”

He swallowed hard and let out another shuddering breath as he felt a fresh wave of tears start to fall from his eyes again.

Jesus… He was in so deep… He was such a mess…

“That… T-that I’m not enough for you,” he whispered, and his voice was shaking, and he was crying again…

“You… You were scared that I’d leave…” you repeated. “So you left first?”

He closed his eyes, and his shoulders trembled as he let out another strangled sob as he realized just how stupid and shitty and awful that sounded…

Because, God, that was what he’d done, wasn’t it?

He’d been scared that you’d break his heart so the idiot that he was had gone and broken yours first.

“God…” he managed, his voice was still choked. “Jesus… Yeah. I left you… B-because I was scared I’d get left first…”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” You sobbed out.

He flinched a little at your words because he knew more than anything in the world that it was bullshit and that what he’d done was horrible and completely irrational and so goddamn selfish and wrong.

“I know…” he whispered, and he started to apologize again, because even though he’d said it a hundred times already he still couldn’t stop saying it. “God, I know. I know it’s bullshit… I just—“

He breathed in and had to fight back another strangled sob as he felt like he was drowning just talking about this.

“I’m just so stupid…” he whispered, and his heart and head were such a mess, and the words just kept falling from his mouth. “I’m a dumbass, and I’m so self-centered… I should’ve known… I should’ve known that you would never leave me… I’m just…”

He let out a strangled sob again, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

God, he’d been such a dumbass: he’d really left you because he was scared…

He’d left the most perfect girl he’d ever met because he’d been a dumbass and he’d been a sucker and a coward and so goddamn scared.

“And what do you want me to do now, Matt?” you asked quietly.

He swallowed hard, his heart aching in his chest.

“What do I…?” he murmured, and his heart leaped into his throat as he realized what you were saying. “God… baby, you don’t…”

And there was a desperate hope that was building inside of him, and his mind was racing as he tried to process everything: were you really about to have this conversation… Were you really about to ask him what he wanted… Did you really want to know if he still wanted you?

He held you even tighter, and a strangled sob escaped his throat. God, he just wanted to beg you, to just blurt out what he wanted and pray that you’d say yes, and pray that you’d take him back.

“I—” he choked out, his words falling like a desperate waterfall, “I want you. I want you, and… and I want you back… God, I just want you, baby…”

His heart was racing, his body was shaking, and his mind was racing as he tried to find the words to explain how much he wanted you.

“Please,” he found himself saying, tears starting to spill again, and he was pleading now. “Please come back to me. Please. I… I just want you again so bad, and it hurts so much being without you, and… God, I need you…”

“It’s not fair,” you whispered shakily. “Not to me, not to Vinnie…”

He felt his heart clench at the mention of that name.

God, he forgot that you were seeing that guy…

He swallowed hard, and his shoulders shook again, because he did realize that it wasn’t fair of him to be begging like this and asking you to come back when you were with someone else, and that… That he was the selfish one, and he was the villain, and he suddenly just wanted to stop and shut up and not ask you for anything.

But then he realized that he couldn’t just stop. The words just kept spilling from his mouth, and he couldn’t hold them back.

“Please… I know it’s not fair, I’m…” he whispered, and another sob escaped his throat, and his mind was going a million miles a minute, and all he could do was plead, “I’m trying, and I just… I need to be with you so badly… god, I miss you…”

He felt the words falling out of his mouth and he realized that he couldn’t stop talking, because all of the things he’d been feeling for three months were just racing through his mind, and he kept just spewing things out like a goddamn dumpster fire.

“Please… Please forgive me and just… just be with me. Please… I’m begging you…” he choked out. “God, I’m begging you, baby, I will do anything…”

There was a clear conflict on your face, you felt torn between your loyalty to Vinnie and your love for Matt despite everything.

He hated himself more than ever, because it was written all over your face how badly this was hurting you: you were conflicted and you were tearing up, and it was all because of him.

And his entire body ached because he didn’t want to hurt you anymore. He didn’t want to be the selfish, awful, evil villain in this situation, and… And he wanted to just shut up and tell you to stay with your boyfriend.

“So, what do you want me to do? Break things off with Vinnie?” you croaked out.

He closed his eyes again.

His body was on fire, and he wanted so badly to just say yes, to just tell you to end things with your boyfriend and come back to him, but…

He couldn’t do that to you.

He couldn’t, because that would be so damn selfish and so wrong and so unfair, and that’s exactly what he’d done months ago, and you’d begged him to stay and he’d just… He’d left anyway.

Matt suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.

Please, God, just let him do the right thing.

Let him be good and kind and fair enough to just tell you to stay with your boyfriend.

He opened his mouth, and for just a moment, all he wanted to do was to say “stay”, but then he started talking and the words just started falling from his mouth, and he couldn’t stop them, because his heart and mind were racing, and he was so, so scared you’d say no…

“No,” he whispered, and the word just slipped out before he could think clearly, and he realized it was the absolutely worst thing to say.

He felt bile rising in his throat, and he started pleading all over again, his voice so desperate he could feel how pathetic it sounded.

“Don’t. Don’t… I didn’t mean that. I’m… I’m an idiot. Ignore me, just… Just forget I said anything, don’t… Please… God, please don’t…”

“Because I will,” you told him, your voice shaking. “If you just tell me to.”

He felt like his chest was collapsing now.

You were actually going to do it… You were going to break things off with your boyfriend and come back to him if he just told you to.

And part of him wanted to say it. God, how he wanted to say it…

But he knew he couldn’t… He just… He couldn’t… He couldn’t, because that would be so selfish…

But despite how wrong it was, he felt like he was going to die without you. He already almost spiraled into a depression in the span of those three months since the breakup, he already couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't live.

He suddenly felt a choked, strangled sob rising in his throat, because he felt like he was going to die: he felt like if he didn’t have you, he wouldn’t be able to live, and his whole body ached and stung because he loved you, he loved you so damn much and he needed you…

God… He felt so desperate that he couldn’t stay quiet. He felt like he was begging for air at this point, and he just… He just had to blurt out what his body was screaming.

“Please… Just… Oh, god, please come back,” he sobbed out, his voice choked and full of pleading and tears again now. “God, I’m begging you, please just… I’m begging you to give me a chance. I’m so… so sorry, and I just… I need you. I need you. I can’t live without you, baby, I… Please…”

You gently took his hand in yours, feeling just how much he was trembling, and you pressed a soft kiss on the back of it. “I will.”

A strangled, gasped sob escaped his throat, and everything went white.

He didn’t believe it… He was hallucinating…

No… No goddamn way… He was dreaming, he had to be dreaming, because there was no way that you just said the one thing that he wanted more than anything else in life.

But then you kissed his hand, and the feeling of your lips was so real and so familiar that he realized it wasn’t a dream.

1K notes · View notes

spiicii · 3 months ago

Text

the og bloodline / bloodline property (part one)

jey uso / jimmy uso / roman reigns / solo sikoa x fem!reader word count → 4k summary → you belong to the bloodline, in every sense of the word. and your job is to serve. links → masterlist / bloodline property (part two) tags → multiple partners, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, hair-pulling, praise kink, daddy kink, possessive behavior, hickies, dom/sub dynamics, vaginal sex, creampie, begging, light choking, crying, overstimulation

“Fuck, you feel perfect,” Jey groaned in your ear, his hands braced on either side of your head as he continued to thrust into you. You opened your legs wider to provide more access, allowing him to grind deeper, the tip of his cock now kissing your cervix.

Jey always started with you first. He was so good at getting you open and relaxed, so much sweeter in comparison to his brothers. He was always gentle, pressing chaste kisses against your cheek as he made sure you felt good. With Jey, it wasn’t just sex. He wanted to make you happy. Wanted you to enjoy it.

“You gon’ hurry the fuck up or what?” You heard Jimmy snap, always impatient.

Jey threw an annoyed glance over his shoulder. “Chill out, uce. We ain’t in a rush.”

Jimmy let out a huff, pacing the length of the room in frustration. “You takin’ too fuckin’ long. She needs a real man to show her what’s up.”

Jey curled his lip, a scathing remark on his tongue, before Roman’s booming voice interrupted them. “You'll get your turn soon enough.”

You couldn’t see him, not as Jey kept you caged between his arms, impaled on his cock, but Roman's next words left no room for argument. “Enough with the bickering."

The twins obeyed, though you could still see the annoyance on Jey’s face as he looked back down at you.

“Just ignore him, babygirl,” he whispered, peppering your neck with soft kisses. “You know I ain’t gon’ leave you hangin’. You know I always give you whatchu want.”

He always did.

You felt his hand reach down between the two of you, his long fingers finding that small, sensitive bud with ease. You felt sparks shoot down your spine at his touch, your legs falling open further just so you could feel more.

He chuckled against your skin, picking up the pace of both his hips and his fingers, pushing you closer and closer to your release.

He leaned up and brushed his lips against yours. They were soft, his kiss gentle as he continued to fuck into you, his fingers playing so perfectly with your clit that you found yourself writhing against him.

You threw your head back and searched for Roman, your mouth open as soft moans fell from your lips.

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, your thighs beginning to shake. “Please, can I come?”

The Tribal Chief was the only one who could grant you permission and you were pleased when you heard him off to the side, out of your line of vision, say, “You can come, pretty girl.”

The orgasm was perfect. It always was with Jey. Pleasure unfurled from your core as you sank deeper into the mattress, your muscles relaxing as the tension released. Jey wasn’t far behind, his hips stuttering against yours.

“Gonna fill you up, babygirl,” he gasped in your ear and that was the only warning you got before you felt him paint your walls white, warmth spreading inside of you at the feeling. He let out a contented sigh, continuing to press sweet kisses into your skin.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” he murmured, placing another kiss against your lips. You offered him a lazy smile, your eyes still glazed over from the pleasure he’d given you.

“Alright, alright, come on, uce. Move it.” Jimmy was already at your side, shoving at Jey in an effort to get him off of you.

Jey scowled, but he slowly pulled out of you, your body shivering from the feeling of emptiness.

“Will you chill out for two fucking seconds? Jesus, you act like you ain’t ever gon’ get a turn.”

“I been waitin’ all day. And I ain’t got time to sit here while you doin’…whatever that was.”

“Man, if you don’t-”

“Enough.” Roman’s voice quickly shut them up. He was used to this. The twins almost always bickered when they fucked you together. It was just their way. They were too competitive. And a little too possessive for someone they were meant to share.

Jey threw you a cheeky wink before finally climbing off of you, Jimmy already tangling his fingers into your hair and pulling you up to meet him.

“Been waitin’ to fuck this pretty pussy all day, little girl,” he growled, quickly hauling you to your feet. Jey preferred to fuck you in missionary, his face close to yours so he could kiss you and watch your eyes cross in pleasure. Jimmy, on the other hand, almost always fucked you from behind, holding you out on display for the entire world to see. He enjoyed grabbing you by the hair, your tits bouncing as he pounded into you from the back.

As he manhandled you into position, you met Roman’s gaze. He was sitting in the chair near the door, watching you with hooded eyes as Jimmy shoved you forward onto the bed, his hands gripping your hips brutally as he lined up behind you.

The Tribal Chief was generous and usually let his cousins go first on nights like this. He wasn’t hurried, knowing that you’d be begging for his cock by the end of it anyways. You may be Bloodline property, but Roman was the chief. You belonged to him.

Jimmy pushed into you, his cock thicker than Jey’s, causing your back to arch at the feeling. He let out a chuckle, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “So fucking tight,” he hissed, beginning to pump in and out of you. “You sure you fucked her, Jey?”

“Fuck off, man.”

You glanced over and saw that Jey was standing near Solo, both of them watching as Jimmy pounded into you from behind. Solo was always difficult to read, his eyes dark as he stared at you. Had it been a few months ago, you wouldn’t have known what he was thinking. Now you knew that the distinctive twinkle in his eye was lust, the barest, imperceptible tick of a jaw the only sign of his impatience.

He’d have a turn after Jimmy. That was how things usually went. If the Bloodline was anything, it was traditional. All four men were creatures of habit, which is perhaps why it hadn’t taken long for you to learn their routine, easily falling into their lifestyle. It had been difficult at first, managing all of their varying personalities, their different schedules, but you had learned.

Now as Jimmy continued to drill into you from the back, the tug on your hair bordering on painful, you were reminded of the very first lesson you had learned with them: you belonged to the Bloodline, in every sense of the word. They had claimed you. Owned you. Body and soul.

Jimmy shifted the angle of his hips, and you felt stars explode across your vision as he hit your g-spot with devastating accuracy, your knees almost buckling from how good it felt.

Jimmy pulled tighter on your hair and your mouth fell open, soft moans spilling from your parted lips. You heard Jimmy chuckle, his other hand gripping your hip so hard you knew it would bruise.

“What a good slut,” he snarled, his pace relentless as he bullied you towards your next orgasm. “You gonna come on this dick?”

You tried to nod but his grip on your hair made it impossible. Jimmy growled, smacking your ass for good measure as he kept up the brutal pace. The roughness of his thrusts combined with his incessant abuse against your g-spot had you spiraling towards orgasm. Again.

“Please, Daddy,” you begged, meeting the Tribal Chief’s gaze as Jimmy pulled on your hair so hard again tears sprung into your eyes. “Please, can I come?”

Roman’s eyes were dark, his face unreadable as he replied. “Come again, sweetheart.”

You felt the tension inside you snap, Jimmy wringing the orgasm from your body with each sharp thrust of his hips. Your walls contracted around him, causing him to groan.

“That’s right, little girl. Imma finish right here inside you. Right where I belong. Fuck!”

Jimmy yanked at your hair so hard that you were forced to stand, his hands now wrapping around your neck as he pulled you back against his chest. His grip tightened and you felt him release inside you, a new warmth spreading between your legs as he finished.

The world was still for a moment, your ears ringing like a jet had just flown by, until Jimmy finally relaxed, slowly loosening his fingers from the tight grip he’d kept on your neck.

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. He slowly pulled out of you, and you whimpered, feeling some of his come leak out and trickle down your leg. Jimmy chuckled, pressing another kiss into your hair. This was the only time he was sweet like his twin, the post-orgasmic bliss making him tender and soft. You melted in his arms, allowing him to lay you softly back on the bed. He gently pushed you back against a pillow, his hands warm against your heated skin. “You always so good for me, pretty girl.”

You leaned into his touch and Jimmy smiled, brushing a few stray hairs from your face. He soon moved away, another hand now on your face, this one much bigger.

“You feeling good, sweetheart?” The Tribal Chief’s voice was low in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as his breath fanned across your neck. “Need your Daddy to take care of you?”

You let out a low whine, already reaching out for him, despite the gooey feeling in your arms. You heard Roman let out a chuckle, sitting up against the headboard and pulling you into his lap. You went easily, allowing his strong arms to wrap around you and bring you closer, your legs falling on either side of his hips to straddle him.

You realized now that things were not following their usual order. Usually, it was Solo who went next, leaving hickies and marks across your neck and chest as he fucked into you. You turned around instinctively to look for him, your brow furrowed in worry.

“Aw, you worried about Solo, babygirl?” Roman’s tone was patronizing, roughly grabbing your chin to look back at him. “Don’t want him to feel left out?”

You whimpered as he kept a tight grip on your chin, his eyes blazing with intensity as he looked up at you. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he murmured, releasing your chin to cup your cheek. “Solo will get his turn. I just couldn’t wait any longer. You looked too perfect tonight. I just couldn’t help myself…”

He ran his hands across your body, admiring the way you reacted to his touch, your hips already rolling forward to meet the erection that was nudging against your inner thigh. He allowed you to take what you wanted, sinking onto his cock with ease, your toes curling at the full feeling inside of you.

“Good girl,” he praised, running his hands along your sides, his face now close to yours as he pressed sweet kisses against your jaw. “You like sitting in Daddy’s lap?”

You nodded, reaching out to touch the beautifully sculpted muscles of his chest as you began to move your hips, never taking your eyes off his.

The Tribal Chief was smirking at you, his large hands encircling your torso. “Such an eager slut, aren’t you, baby? Already been fucked twice and you still want more?”

You rolled your hips again in answer to his question, the feeling of him inside you erasing all thoughts from your brain, bliss overtaking your body. He always made you feel like this, his cock so thick and long that it completely filled you up, hitting that perfect spot inside of you with every thrust, no matter the angle. You could have sworn your insides had morphed to fit him perfectly and he seemed to agree.

“Just like you were made for me. Such a good girl for your Tribal Chief.”

Your eyes fluttered at his praise, rolling your head back as he pressed wet kisses to your exposed neck, teeth nipping at the pulse point beneath your jaw. You felt yourself clench around him and he laughed, reaching around to grab a handful of your ass as you began to grind on top of him.

“You gonna ride me, pretty girl?” Roman’s voice was a low growl, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. “Gonna take what you want from me?”

“Yes, please,” you moaned, grinding further down so your clit could make contact with his skin. “Please, Daddy. I want you so bad.”

He laughed, the sound rumbling through the large expanse of his chest. “‘Atta girl,” he praised, allowing you to control the pace. “Take what you want. I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

Yours. Yours. Yours.

You lifted your hips and sank down again, gratified to hear the Tribal Chief make a pleased sound beneath you. You don’t often get him to ride him like this. He’s normally grabbing you and taking what he wants, almost always manhandling you to show off his incredible strength. Seeing him laid beneath you, his arm slung lazily behind his head as he watched you bounce up and down was rare. And you wanted to enjoy it.

You planted your hands against his tattooed chest, attempting to gain more leverage to lift yourself higher, moaning at the feeling of his dick splitting you open as you straddled him. You picked up the pace, the feeling of him inside you sending tendrils of pleasure shooting across your body.

“That’s it,” Roman encouraged, using his free hand to keep you steady above him, his touch keeping you grounded. “Don’t hurt yourself now. I’m not going anywhere, pretty girl.”

You obeyed, slowing your movements, but only a little. You rocked up and down, throwing your head back in pleasure. He made you feel so good. You weren’t sure how it was possible to feel this good, your skin tingling all over, soft pants falling from your open mouth as you rode him.

“Greedy thing, ain’t she, uce?” You heard Jimmy’s voice somewhere behind you, but you could hardly focus on it, tension beginning to coil inside you for a third time as you took what the Tribal Chief offered you.

Roman chuckled at his words, watching you with amusement as you bounced on his dick in desperation, chasing your own pleasure.

“So greedy she needs four men to take care of her, isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You nodded at his words though you were having difficulty hearing him, your own heartbeat in your ears.

Roman growled and pulled you closer, no longer lounging against the headboard as he wrapped his arms around you. This angle pushed him deeper inside and you gasped, stars exploding across your vision.

He began moving his own hips, thrusting up into you with easy strength, one of his hands tangling in your hair. He was impossibly deep now, and you felt your pussy spasm at the feeling.

“I know I let you fuck my cousins,” he growled in your ear, your pussy clamping down on him as he thrust into you harder. “But who do you really belong to? Who owns you, pretty girl?”

You were barely moving on your own now, Roman now fully taking control and shoving his cock deeper and deeper into you until you felt like you might pass out. Still, you somehow found the words he wanted to hear. “You, Daddy. I belong to you.”

The grip on your hair tightened and you felt his cock twitch inside of you. He was close. And so were you.

“Please,” you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. “Please, can I come, Daddy? Please?”

“Come, pretty girl. Come on your Daddy’s dick.”

This orgasm was brutal, your thighs shaking in pleasure beneath Roman’s large hands. You felt yourself gush around his massive length, triggering his own finish. You heard him let out a groan, his grip on you tightening as he came.

He pumped a few more times into you, just to ensure that you took every last drop of his seed, before finally holding you still, his breath warm against your neck.

“Good girl,” he praised, releasing the grip on your hair and allowing your head to fall against his shoulder. “Such a good slut. You did so well.”

Your limbs felt heavy, your body now sensitive after three orgasms so close together. You shivered as Roman pulled out of you, more come dribbling out of your leaking cunt onto the bed below. Your breath was shaky, your muscles trembling from exertion.

“Come get her, Solo. She’s ready for you.”

You could barely register the Tribal Chief’s words, suddenly feeling your body being lifted off of him and into someone else’s arms. Solo’s arms. You immediately relaxed, nuzzling against his neck, body limp as he carried you.

He set you down gently against the mattress, propping you up against a pillow before climbing on top of you without much preamble. You opened your eyes to look up at him, feeling butterflies in your stomach as you met his intense gaze. His dark eyes were fiery, his jaw clenched as he looked down at you. His gold chain dangled in front you, glinting in the bedroom light.

“Solo,” you breathed, his name easy on your lips. He hardly ever spoke to you, but you had learned that he appreciated it when you spoke to him, even if he didn’t always show it. You reached up and placed a hand against his cheek, offering him a smile.

“She looks so fucked out, uce,” you heard one of the twins say. “Think you can get her to come again? She might be done.”

Solo’s eyes narrowed, the only sign that he was annoyed at his brother’s words. You knew that he didn’t mind fucking you like this, your body soft and pliable beneath his large hands, so easy for him to manhandle into any position he wants.

When he pressed his thick cock into you, you felt your eyes roll back into your head, the feeling bordering the fine line between pain and pleasure.

He was thicker than all of them and you usually had to take at least one of his brothers first just to prepare yourself. Even now you’d taken three dicks, and you still weren’t prepared for the burn as he stretched you out, small puffs of air escaping from your parted lips.

Solo let out a low groan as he gave you another inch, his mouth already latching onto your neck as he suckled a bruise against your skin. He loved marking you up, more possessive than either of his brothers. He wanted the whole world to know that you were his, more than happy to mottle your neck and chest with bruises. He finally bottomed out and you let out a whimper at the feeling, the burn at being stretched by his massive girth positively delicious. But he didn’t move. You met his gaze and saw that he was looking at you, almost expectantly. He wanted to hear it. Wanted to know that you needed him.

“Please, Solo,” you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “I need it. I need you. Please.”

His eyes darkened and before you fully realized it, he was pulling out and ramming back in, the thrust sending tendrils of pleasure up your spine as his thick cock massaged your walls. You couldn’t help the embarrassing whine that escaped your throat, overstimulation prickling at your exhausted muscles.

Solo continued to grind into you, his lips attaching themselves to your neck again, another bruise blossoming beneath his mouth. Solo had always been good at keeping you right on the edge between pain and pleasure, whether it was his massive cock splitting you open or his lips suckling a bruise beneath your jaw. It always left you head spinning, the feeling so euphoric that you almost feel like you’re floating.

His teeth grazed the delicate skin against your windpipe, and you moaned again, wrapping your legs around his waist just to pull him closer to you.

“Need you so bad, Solo,” you pleaded, looking back up at him in desperation. “Please, I can’t…I can’t-”

Another one of his thrusts had you whining, pleasure licking across your tired limbs like wildfire. Your nails dug into his shoulder as you pulled him close, the sound of his name leaving your lips spurring him on as he continued to drill into you.

Solo leaned down and you felt his lips ghost across the shell of your ear. “You want me, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice so low that only you could hear. You let out a gasp as he dragged across your g-spot, his thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge.

“I want you so bad,” you whimpered, pressing small kisses against his neck. “Please, I need you. Give it to me, please. Please…”

You couldn’t speak anymore. Not as his hips snapped against yours, tension growing in your abdomen at the feel of him inside you. He reached around and grabbed one of your thighs, pushing it forward to allow better access to your puffy cunt. A strangled moan escaped your lips, and you felt like he was splitting you in half, your g-spot so abused by now that you weren’t sure you could take it anymore.

You opened your mouth, trying to form the words on your lips, but you couldn’t. Your head felt empty, Solo’s cock pistoning in and out of you with such force that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk again for days.

“Daddy,” you managed to whisper, your eyes glazing over as Solo grunted, raising up your other leg to push you into a full mating press. A strangled scream ripped from your throat and tears sprung into your eyes. You were completely helpless beneath him now, pinned to the bed beneath his massive weight, his cock feeling like it was sawing you in half.

The tension inside you was coiling again, but you still couldn’t find the words to ask for permission, your head feeling as though it were stuffed with cotton. There was only one word you could think of.

“Daddy.”

You repeated his name like a mantra, your body no longer your own as Solo drilled into you, your legs next to your ears.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

You heard the Tribal Chief’s voice and almost wept at the sound.

“Daddy, please.” You still couldn’t find the words, your eyes unable to focus on anything except Solo’s dark eyes, dangerously close to the edge of your fourth orgasm.

“Use your words, princess. What do you need?” The Tribal Chief’s voice was soft, and you felt your entire body tense.

“I can’t…” You gasped, Solo’s face blurring as tears began to fall. “Please…I can’t…”

“Yes, you can.” Roman’s voice was firmer now, and you knew it would displease him if you came without permission. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll give it to you.”

Solo’s hand found your clit and you screamed again, though this time you used your words. “Please, can I come? Please, please, please.”

“Come, slut.”

Your vision went white. The pleasure was so intense that your entire body shook, walls spasming helplessly around Solo’s massive cock. You wanted to move, but you were still pinned to the bed, your feet still by your ears as Solo held you down. You were vaguely aware of the sounds you were making, alternating between high-pitched whines and fucked-out whimpers. You might have been embarrassed if it didn’t feel so fucking good.

“So fuckin’ pretty when you come,” Solo grunted in your ear, finally spilling into you as he chased his own pleasure, coating your insides with his seed.

You weren’t sure what happened after that. Your vision was blurry with tears, your throat hoarse from your screams. You felt Solo finally release you, leaning up and allowing your legs to fall back onto the bed. You felt his come trickle from your abused hole, all mixed together from the multiple loads you’d taken from his brothers and cousin.

You felt someone’s lip on your forehead, pressing a tender kiss to your fevered brow. “Such a good girl.” he murmured, his tone soft. “You serve my bloodline so well.”

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lanf1an · 11 days ago

Text

DREAMS lando norris pt.1 When your childhood bestfriend Flo had convinced you to get the fashion design job at her brother's company Quadrant, it finally paid off when Louis Vuitton was announced as the new sponsor for F1.

pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 wordcount: 1378

Flo's voice filled the room as she scrolled through her phone, her excitement palpable.

"I'm telling you, this is perfect for you," Flo said, thrusting her phone in your direction.

You squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the email she was showing you. "A job at Quadrant? Flo, I’m studying fashion design, not... whatever that is."

Flo looked up, her brows furrowed as if you’d just said something ridiculous. "What do you mean? It can be. Look at Tommy Hilfiger. Or Lewis Hamilton—his fashion work, hosting the Met Gala, working with big brands. F1’s bigger than you think, and it’s not just about cars."

"Haha, Flo, what are you talking about?" you said, shaking your head at the idea. "F1 is not really the place I want to be for my fashion stuff."

You paused, realizing you hadn’t really thought about it like that before. You’d never paid much attention to Formula 1, aside from the occasional updates Flo gave you about Lando. It had been years since you'd spent any real time with him. As kids, you'd catch fleeting glimpses of each other whenever he wasn’t off karting or, later, racing. But you knew Lewis Hamilton. He had enormous influence. He’d collaborated with brands you admired and pushed boundaries in the fashion world.

"Maybe not," Flo said, leaning forward with a knowing grin. "But there could be great opportunities"

"And trust me, Quadrant desperately needs someone like you. You’ve seen their merch, right? It’s..." She continued.

"Basic?" you offered, arching an eyebrow, Flo had already showed you the designs before in an attempt for you to improve them.

"Exactly! They’re looking for someone to revamp their designs. You’re always talking about how things could be better.''

You sipped your coffee, considering her words. It wasn’t your dream job, but the thought of improving a brand and the opportunities that came with it was oddly tempting.

"Fine," you said, setting your mug down. "I’ll think about it."

Flo grinned like she'd won the lottery. "You’ll kill it. Trust me."

The buzz around Quadrant’s new merch started slowly but picked up pace when a few photos of Lando wearing your designs at the paddock made their way online. Suddenly, it wasn’t just fans buying hoodies and tees, people in the fashion and sports world were taking notice, and journalists started to make comparisons you weren’t sure anyone expected.

“Is Lando Norris the next Lewis Hamilton?” one article headline read.

Another went deeper: “From driver to brand icon: How Lando Norris and Quadrant are reshaping athlete influence.”

It had been surreal to watch the shift, you had worked hard. Max had been supportive from the start, seeing the vision. Keegan had actually become a reliable creative partner, having similar styles and taste. Lando had been the same as when you were kids, you had barely seen him, too busy racing, handling his CEO duties from afar.

And now, after months of hard work, it was all leading to something bigger.

The first time at the paddock was overwhelming. The heat, the constant movement, the blur of media, mechanics, and drivers navigating their way through the chaos—it was a world you still didn’t quite belong to. Even though it did bid a uncanny resemblance to the chaos of the fashion world, which intrigued you.

You watched as the photographers snapped pictures of Lando and the team in their latest Quadrant pieces. The collection had taken months to finalize, and the response had been overwhelming—more press than usual, more attention, more recognition.

“You’re the one behind all this, aren’t you?”

You turned at the voice, surprised to find yourself face to face with Lewis Hamilton. He was dressed effortlessly, a silk LV shirt under an unbuttoned suit vest, sunglasses perched on his nose.

You blinked. “I—uh. Sorry?”

Lewis smiled knowingly. “The Quadrant collection. It’s you.”

You hesitated. “I mean… it’s a team effort.”

“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “But I know talent when I see it.”

Her stomach flipped. Compliments were one thing, but this—coming from him—felt different.

“I’ve been following your work,” Lewis continued, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You’ve got a fresh perspective. Louis Vuitton is partnering with F1. They want to bring in new talent, I tipped you.” Your breath caught. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You stared at him, waiting for the catch, but there wasn’t one. He was just… offering this. Just like that.

“I—” You glanced over at the Quadrant shoot, where Lando was laughing with the guys, completely unaware of the conversation happening across the paddock. “Thank you so much.”

Lewis smiled. “You’ll be hearing from them soon. Excited to work together.”

And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the paddock like he hadn’t just cracked your entire world open in a two-minute conversation. Flo had turned to be right after all.

Louis Vuitton had officially announced their F1 partnership, and with it, their campaign featuring a select group of drivers. The second she saw Lando’s name on the list, you knew there was no avoiding it. You hadn’t expected it, even though it made sense after Quadrant’s succes and having already worked together. Still, you hadn’t expected to be working with him again, especially not like this. He hadn't shown too much emotion when you left Quadrant, but you knew he wasn't happy about it.

Now, standing in the Louis Vuitton studio, flipping through the fitting schedule, you could feel his glare when the door opened before looking up.

"From Quadrant to Louis V," Lando mused, his voice light but edged with something unreadable. "Look at us."

You finally glanced up. He walked around inspecting the room, sunglasses perched on his head, fingers brushing against the fabric of a tailored jacket. His expression was casual, like he wasn’t really thinking about what he’d just said. Like it was just an observation.

You gave a small shrug. "Who would've thought."

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he turned toward the fitting area. "Thought you could get rid of me, huh?"

“Alright, first look,” you said, flipping through your notes without looking up.

Lando sighed dramatically. “Do I really need to try all of these on?”

You shot him a look. “Unless you suddenly developed a sense of style overnight, yes.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, grabbing the set from the rack.

You turned you back as he changed, focusing on adjusting the pins on one of the outfits. It wasn’t the first time you’d been in a fitting with Lando, but this was different. The Louis Vuitton studio was quieter than Quadrant HQ, the lighting softer, there was no Max, no Keegan, no distractions.

“Okay,” Lando said, stepping forward. “What do you think?”

You turned—and fuck.

The suit fit him unfairly well. The sharp tailoring, the way the fabric moved with him—it was annoyingly perfect. Which meant you had done a great job.

You forced yourself to be professional, stepping closer to fix his collar. “Hold still.”

Lando stayed quiet as you smoothed the lapels, fingers brushing against his chest. The silence felt thick, aware of how close you were.

“Looks good,” you said, voice even. “But the pants need adjusting.”

You knelt down, reaching for the hem.

You could feel his eyes on you as you adjusted the fabric, fingers skimming his ankle, making sure the length was right. You refused to look up, but you could hear him breathe in, then exhale slowly.

“Comfortable down there?” he asked, voice casual, but you could hear his smirk.

You rolled your eyes, unable for him to see. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Lando huffed out a laugh, but when you did glance up—just for a second—his jaw was tight. Like he was the one struggling.

You stood, smoothing out the jacket. “Alright,” you said, stepping back, regaining distance. “I think we’re done here.”

Lando tilted his head. “You sure? Thought you liked bossing me around now.”

You smirked. “If I really wanted to boss you around, Lando, you’d know it.”

He blinked, caught off guard for just a second.

Then he grinned. “Noted.”

WN: new storyyyy wooooop, literally already had this fashion job at quadrant in my drafts and then the LV partnership was announced i had to implement that and post it

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softspiderling · 7 months ago

Text

picture of you in an invisible locket | j.v

summary:

“It is not my father who is against the match.”

“What?”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in surprise at the implication, and you sighed quietly. You weren’t planning on telling him, knowing it would hurt his feelings greatly, but did you have any other choice?

“You say you have a deep affection for me, and then say that you’re against a match,” Jacaerys said, his brows knitted in confusion.

OR; loving jacaerys velayron means more than loving just him, something that you are painfully aware of

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: none :)

word count: 2,5k

author's note: my first jacaerys fic! ngl it was super hard to jump from obx to hotd bc i wanted my writing to feel authentic to the fandom/show??? yeah obx and hotd could NOT be any more different tbf. i have a bunch of ideas for jace but if you want you can send me some requests! also tagging @zyafics and @sunderlust bc they've been encouraging me to write for jace ily guys. happy reading and pls leave some feedback/comments/nice words!!! <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The light of the torches were flickering as you walked down the hallway, your shoes clicking against the marble stones that lined the ground. It was nearly midnight and a lady of your rank shouldn’t be awake at this hour, much less out of her chambers by herself, roaming the halls.

But you were hungry.

You hadn’t had much to eat during dinner, trying to avoid him as much as possible, which is getting increasingly more difficult. Usually, he wasn’t so persistent, opting to stay close to your father during dinner, exchanging information about their culture, or drinking with your brother. Tonight, however, it seemed like he was on quest to find you whenever you were standing idly by, asking for a dance. And of course, you couldn’t decline for no reason, as it would appear rude or even slight, so you busied yourself with other - much less distracting - dance partners. By the time he was approached by one of your guards, inquiring about his training, and you saw your chance to sit down and eat in peace, the table had been cleared for the last course. While you did love cake, your hunger couldn’t be stilled by a mere dessert and you spent the remainder of the night famished, longing for some hearty food.

As if on cue, your stomach grumbled of hunger again, and you picked up the skirt of your night dress, hastening along to the kitchen. When you finally reached the stair case that led down to the kitchens, you hurried down the steps, letting yourself into the kitchen, the heavy wooden door swinging shut behind you.

The kitchen was dimly lit, and you headed to the pantry, searching for bread and butter and if you were lucky, some smoked ham. You were so focused on your search, you didn’t even notice another presence lingering in the doorway of the pantry.

You heart nearly stopped when you finally did see him, your gasp echoing in the empty kitchen.

“Prince Jacaerys!”

The crown prince of the Seven Realms was standing in front of you, arms behind his back and brows raised. You forced your heartbeat so calm down, hand still clutching your chest.

“You gave me a fright,” you said. “What are you doing here?”

“I have been waiting for your arrival. You took quite some time, I was certain you would be here an hour past.”

Your eyes narrowed in slits, growing wary at his words. “And how did you know that I would come to the kitchens at this hour? I do not make it a habit to skulk around the keep at night.”

Jacaerys chuckled dryly, his beautiful dark curls bouncing as he shook his head, as if in disbelief.

“Given how you occupied the dance floor with various dance partners earlier, I did not see you sit down for supper once. You were certain to still your hunger somewhere.”

So he did notice.

You acted nonchalant, turning away from him eyes searching shelves in the pantry.

“Searching for this?”

Jacaerys brought a loaf of bread from behind his back, wrapped in a cloth. Your eyes gleamed, taking a step forward to reach for it, nearly bumping into him as he took a step forward as well, breaching into your personal space. Your heart stopped, feeling his hot breath fanning on your cheeks and the prince’s lips tugged into a grin.

“Ah ah,” he tutted, moving the bread out of your reach. “You do not expect me to give this away without a price now, do you my lady?”

You took a moment’s pause, considering his words with caution.

“… What sort of price do you speak of?”

“How about…” Jacaerys begun. “A kiss?”

With a small breath, you faltered, looking up at him through your lashes, your shoulders slumping.

“Jace.”

“Ah, now we are back to Jace?”

Snatching the small piece of ham and the butter that sat in a small marble bell from the shelves, you walk back into the kitchen, knowing Jacaerys would follow you. Making a stop at the counter, you spread your findings on it, waiting until Jacaerys stopped next you, loaf of bread still in his hand.

“You have been avoiding me.”

“I have not.”

“You danced with every single man at your brother’s name day celebration except for me,” Jacaerys pointed out. You shrugged with your shoulders, an act you would never do in front of other people, but this was Jace.

“I was merely being a good host.”

“Don’t insult me, my lady. I saw your grimace when Lord Ren twirled you over the dance floor while stepping all over your feet with his barbaric dance moves.”

Seven hells, he got you there. You never were able to keep your real feelings hidden when it came to Lord Ren. He was just too insufferable. Pursing your lips, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You were still a lady after all, you had some manners.

“Will you give me the bread when I admit you’re right?”

“I should not,” Jacaerys sniffed. “Because I know I am right, I do not need a confession. I just want to know your reasons.”

With a huff, you snatched the loaf of bread out of his hands, reaching for knife in the wooden block. You cut out several slices, maybe with more force than necessary.

“You know my reasons.”

Jacaery is quiet next to you and you dropped the knife on the counter, wrapping the rest of the loaf up again. You can still feel his gaze on you as you spread the butter on the bread slices, knowing he was waiting for you to elaborate, and after a few more moments, you broke, the knife clattering against the wooden surface.

“Jace, you know I… Have a deep affection for you.”

“As do I for you.”

The two of you both skirted around the big word, not quite bold enough to say it yet.

“I do not wish to give my father the expectation to marry me off to you.”

“I’m the crown prince, surely your father would not have any grievances against a match.”

“It is not my father who is against the match.”

“What?”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened in surprise at the implication, and you sighed quietly. You weren’t planning on telling him, knowing it would hurt his feelings greatly, but did you have any other choice?

“You say you have a deep affection for me, and then say that you’re against a match,” Jacaerys said, his brows knitted in confusion. “I don’t understand. Isn’t a match born out of affection and not duty what you have been wanting?”

“Jace, this is more complicated than me harboring any affections for you-” you started, but your words were cut shot by Jacaerys speaking your name.

“If it’s about leaving home, I promise King’s Landing is not as bad as it seems. And on dragonback, it is only a three day journey. When I first left, I got terribly homesick as well, but-“

“I do not wish to be Queen!” you exploded, falling into Jacaerys’ words and he took a step back at your outburst, surprise flickering over his face. You let out a long, deep, breath, hand clutching at your chest, calming yourself down.

The kitchen is eerily calm, neither of you spoke, the only sound is the fire crackling in the hearth. Your voice is quiet when you finally spoke again.

“I am the youngest child of my father, Jace. His only daughter. My oldest brother is betrothed and to be wed in less than a year’s time, the second oldest is courting his partner to be betrothed. I was not trained to rule, to have any responsibility or to represent my house. You are the crown prince, set to inherit the Iron Throne, to rule over seven kingdoms. Seven, Jace. How exactly do you expect me to fulfill the role of a Queen consort?”

Jacaerys’ mouth was parted, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to say. Which you understood. You have never shared your feelings about his position as heir before, how you resented it a little for it was the only reason you couldn’t let yourself be matched with him.

“I’m not fit to be Queen.”

“I… Didn’t know that you felt this way,” he said, his voice tight. “I can’t shirk my duties.”

“And I am not asking you to,” you assured him. “I just can’t… Be the wife you need.”

“What if-”

“Jacaerys, please.”

Your voice was pleading, knowing discussing this any further was no use. You weren’t fit for a Queen. Jacaerys’ face shut down, and he put his mask up, before nodding, ever the understanding prince, much to your luck. “Of course. Whatever you wish for, my love.”

His love.

“I will see you on the morrow.”

Reaching for your hand, he grasped it gently with his, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, before stepping back, letting go of you. As he departed from the kitchen, you leaned against the counter, your breath shaky. You knew you hurt him, disappointed him, but this was so much bigger than the two of you.

You breathed out deeply, hoping the sorrow would leave, but it didn’t. Reaching for the bread, your appetite had gone, but leaving it would be wasting it, so you bit into your dinner. And as you ate, you couldn’t help but think that the bread tasted like ashes in your mouth.

The next few days, Jacaerys seemed to respect your wishes to keep his distance. You still saw him around the keep, occasionally walking with your father, mostly though you saw him accompanying your brother as they conversed quietly, but intently. You wondered what they were talking about. Whenever you saw him, you noticed that Jacaerys kept his gaze away from took, and you couldn’t help but feel saddened, even though this was what you asked him for in the first place.

You missed his company. Especially at night. Despite the fact that you had never crossed any lines, or did anything improper - spending the dark hours at the library talking, exchanging stories about your childhood, maybe coming very close to a kiss - you were still a maiden. Of course you spending time with him alone was unseemly, and your father would betroth you immediately would he find out. It might be better for you, that Jacaerys kept away.

It was the end of the week when you saw him again. You were sat in the dining hall, at another feast your father had called for. It was the night of the departure of the representatives of House Blackwood, though even if it weren’t, you didn’t doubt that there would still be a feast. Your father didn’t need an occasion celebrate.

Your demeanor was polite, bht curt, hoping that it would deter any lords from asking for a dance, but of course Lord Ren was keen on offering you his hand.

Giving him a polite smile, you let him lead you around the dance floor, already forming some sort of excuse in your head when someone stepped to you, offering you his hand.

It was Jacaerys.

“May I, Lord Ren?”

“Of course, my prince.”

Lord Ren bowed to Jacaerys and you bowed your head out of respect before Jacaery placed a hand on your waist, his other finding your hand. You couldn’t help but feel relief that Jacaerys had freed you from Lord Ren, but you tried to keep your composure.

“I thought we talked about this, Jacaerys,” you muttered out between gritted teeth, as to uphold the image of a happy lady, dancing with her guest.

“We have.”

Jacaerys replied easily, never missing a step as he spoke, despite keeping his eyes on you. Ever the perfect prince.

You turned away, not being able to hold his eyes on you, your stomach churning.

“I am sorry if I hurt your feelings, Jace,” you said quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear you talking to the crown prince in such a familiar way. “I wish things were different- That I was different.”

Jacaerys’ hand tightened on your waist, and he used that to pull you closer.

“I spoke to your father, and he gave his blessing for our betrothal.”

Your eyes widened at his words, as you hadn’t expected them, the shock evident on your face. You had told him about your fears of being Queen consort and he just disregarded them.

“What?”

“I know you’re afraid that you won’t be able to fulfill your duties as Queen, my Queen consort. My mother will teach you, I will be by your side. My mother is set to live a long life and by the time I will inherit the throne, you will be properly trained. And I swear on my life, you will make the best Queen consort the realm will ever see.”

Stunned, you blinked your eyes at him, as if this all was a dream. Never before had you experience someone being so stubborn to prove you of your own worth.

“It hurt me greatly when you told of your reluctance of our match, because I cannot fathom that you see yourself anything less than you are.”

As he spoke, Jacaerys kept his gaze ahead, but he finally he turned to look at you, his eyes softening.

“I will not force you. This is your choice. If you do not wish to marry me, you won’t have to. Just know that I believe in you and what you will be able to do as Queen consort.”

You were trying so hard to find the right words, your feet stopped working for a second and you stumbled, but Jacaerys was quick to tighten his grip around you, keeping you upright.

“I- don’t know what to say,” you admitted.

“Say yes?”

Jacaerys looked down at you, his eyes hopeful and you felt your resolve melt away, especially because it looked he had planned it down to the last detail.

“Yes, okay.”

Jacaerys smiled at you before turning to the side, giving a curt nod and that was all it took for your father thrust his jug into the air, the ale spilling over the rim.

“I am thrilled to announce that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen of the Seven Realms, has asked my daughter for her hand in marriage… And she has accepted!”

The raucuos cheers that followed after nearly deafened your ears and you hid your face in Jacaerys’ chest - an act of affection you allowed yourself now that the two of you were betrothed.

“This couldn’t wait until we were in closed chambers?” you whispered, pink tinging your cheeks. Jacaerys shook his head, lifting your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles.

“There’s no backing out of it now, my love.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: thoughts?? :)

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon fic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #hotd #house of the dragon

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nevernonline · 5 months ago

Text

✧.* heartbreak girl; csc one shot.

synopsis: Seungcheol struggles with his feelings for his best friend, y/n, who is caught in a complicated relationship. As he watches her suffer from heartbreak, he finds it increasingly difficult to conceal his love for her.

paring: seungcheol x fem! reader.

genre:friends2lovers

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol) some minor sexy stuff, but not much really.

word count: 8.6k

content: . non-idol idolings, big brother Joshua. asshole boyfriends yk. Cheol is painfully in love.

note: non edited prob weird typos, xo.

Seungcheol stood outside the bustling café, the familiar sound of laughter and chatter spilling through the door like an intoxicating aroma. He had been meaning to meet his friends here for a while, but his heart wasn’t in it tonight. Instead, it felt heavy, aching at the thought of her—Y/n, his best friend and the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart.

They had grown up together, their lives intertwined like the branches of the old oak tree that sat as the bridge between their childhood bedrooms. Seungcheol had always been protective of y/n, watching from the sidelines as she navigated the ups and downs of her life. But just recently, something had shifted between them, a current of unspoken words and emotions that neither dared to acknowledge.

He pushed open the door and made his way through the crowd, scanning the room until his eyes landed on her. Y/n sat at a corner table, her hair cascading over her shoulders, lost in conversation with another friend. But Seungcheol could see it in her eyes—the flicker of worry, the slight downturn of her lips. He knew her better than anyone, and lately, she had seemed off.

His heart raced as he approached the table, steeling himself for the inevitable conversation. “Hey, Soojin, Y/n.” he greeted, forcing a smile despite the turmoil brewing inside him.

“Seungcheol! You made it!” Y/n exclaimed, the warmth of her voice wrapping around him like a comfort blanket. But as her expression shifted to one of concern, he could see the cracks behind her cheerful facade.

“You okay?” he asked, unable to hide the worry in his own voice.

“Yeah, just... a lot going on,” she said, brushing it off. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Seungcheol glanced at her friend, who seemed to sense the underlying tension and quickly excused herself. The moment of solitude felt charged, and Seungcheol knew they needed to talk.

“Listen, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me,” he urged, leaning forward. “I’m your friend, Bunny. I want to help.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just... Alex, dating has been, and it’s... complicated. I think he might be seeing someone else.”

Seungcheol remembered when Y/n first started dating her current partner, he was alright, nothing special compared to the girl who was standing in front of him.

past

When he first met y/n boyfriend she had just gotten back from college for the weekend as Seungcheol stepped onto her front lawn waiting inside patiently next to y/n’s brother Joshua, he was considering running down the sidewalk to her when a guy appeared out of the front seat to hug her mother. It was in a flash of a moment he knew this guy was her boyfriend.

Seungcheol's heart sank, but he tried impossible hard to maintain a composed exterior. He forced a smile and greeted y/n with a wave as she approached, her boyfriend trailing beside her. Joshua nudged Seungcheol gently, giving him an encouraging nod.

"Hey, Seungcheol!" y/n called out, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "It's so good to see you!"

"Good to see you too, Bunny," Seungcheol replied, his voice steady. "How is school, my little scholar?"

"It’s been great, but I’ve missed home, especially your mom’s cooking," she said, glancing at her boyfriend. "Oh, Shit. I should introduce you! This is Alex."

Alex extended a hand towards Seungcheol. "Nice to meet you, man."

"Nice to meet you too," Seungcheol said, shaking his hand firmly. He noticed how Alex's grip was strong but not overbearing, a sign of confidence and respect.

The four of them stood there for a moment, the air filled with unspoken words. Joshua, sensing the tension, quickly suggested, "Why don't we all head inside? Mom made us some lemonade. Feel free to spike it yourself."

Of course they all agreed, and as they walked towards the house, Seungcheol couldn't help but steal a glance at y/n. She seemed happy, and that was what mattered most to him, even if it meant watching from the sidelines.

Inside, the house was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly squeezed lemon, probably just a room spray her mom thought would make her lemonade pop more, which helped make Cheol smile even more. y/n's mother greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with joy at having her two kids home. The group settled into the cozy living room, the atmosphere gradually easing into one of laughter and shared stories.

Seungcheol listened intently, contributing when he could, but mostly observing the dynamics between y/n and Alex. He noticed the small gestures of affection, the way they seemed to understand each other with just a glance. It was clear they shared a deep connection.

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol felt a mix of emotions. There was an undeniable pang of that little green monster creeping in, but also a sense of acceptance. He realized that y/n's happiness was the most important thing, and if Alex was the one who brought that to her, then he would do his best to support her wholeheartedly.

Later, after many sneaks to Joshua’s hidden liquor, too many slices of pizza, and card games, they all stood on the porch saying their goodbyes, y/n gave Seungcheol a tight hug. "It really is good to see you, Seungcheol. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

"I won't," he promised, his voice sincere. "Take care of yourself, y/n."

“You know I always do,” she gripped onto his sweatshirt sleeve, and flashed her award winning smile his way, “And if I find myself in need of a body guard I’ll be sure to call you.”

With one last wave, Seungcheol watched as she and Alex walked down the driveway, hand in hand. He sighed softly, turning to Joshua who gave him a sympathetic look.

"Come on," Joshua said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go get a beer, bro. My treat."

Seungcheol nodded, grateful for Joshua's friendship. As they walked away, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Life had a way of surprising you, and he knew that his story was far from over.

A few months had passed now and finally the sun was shining brightly as their friend group gathered around the picnic table, laughter and chatter filling the air. Plates of food were being passed around, and the aroma of grilled meat wafted through the garden. Which sure, sounded a little gross, but it was just another sign of the changing of seasons, but not the changing of where his heart was gravitating. Y/N was in her element, flitting from one group to another, her energy infectious.

Seungcheol watched her from a distance, like he usually would, holding a fond smile on his lips. He couldn't help but marvel at how effortlessly she brought people together, how her presence seemed to light up even the most simple of places.

"Hey, earth to Idiot!" Y/N's voice broke through his daydream. She was standing in front of him, hands on her hips and a playful glint in her eyes. "Are you ready for our trip tomorrow?"

He grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Of course. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I knew you’d never disappoint me!" she exclaimed, her smile widening. "It's going to be the best one yet, I can feel it. Something about the smell of the rain this year tells my heart the flowers will be perfect.”

Seungcheol chuckled, captivated by her excitement. "You and your weird as fuck sixth sense about flowers," he teased gently.

She punched him playfully. "Hey, don't underestimate my flower intuition. It's never wrong. It’s like how you always can for some reason tell how many people got a draft beer before you based on some fucked up freshness level you created. I mean we could always take a bet and see who everyone thinks is more insane.”

As the evening wore on, they continued to chat and laugh, the anticipation for their trip growing with each passing moment. The backyard was now filled with the soft glow of fairy lights, casting a magical ambiance over the gathering. And Seuncheol was still sitting with Y/n listening to her talk on and on about her new weird interests.

"Remember the first time we went on this trip?" Y/N asked, her gaze distant as she reminisced. "We got lost for hours, and you were so convinced that we were going to get mauled by a bear or a cougar or something?”

“We didn’t have gas or cell service. I feel like it was a fair assumption to make.” Seungcheol smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed remembering how he embarrassed himself around her even though he’s sure there were worse incidents.

“But, we were at a reststop.”

“But it was pouring rain, y/n. Come on.”

“Fine, I’ll let you have it,” she ruffled her pretty hands through his hair “I still think you’re silly.”

“You’re always so mean to me, when I do everything for you.”

“It’s just so easy.”

“By the way,” Seungcheol rubbed his slightly sweaty palms on his jeans, “Where’s Alex this weekend?”

“Uh,” Y/n gave him a soft smile that he wasn’t so convinced was real, “With his parents in Antigua I think? Not sure, some weird beach vacation. Sounds boring.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, sensing the underlying tension in Y/n's tone. “Antigua, huh? Must be nice,” he replied, his voice deliberately casual, though he couldn't help the hint of envy creeping in.

Y/n shrugged, her smile flickering momentarily. “Yeah, I guess. But honestly, I’d much rather be here, hanging out with you guys. This is way more fun. And don’t tell Josh, but I miss seeing him every day.”

“Seriously?” Seungcheol asked. “I mean, it’s a tropical paradise, and you’d choose me and your brother over that?”

“Absolutely,” she said, her gaze meeting him with sincerity. “Why would I want to be stuck on a beach when I could be here, laughing and just… being ourselves? This is way more my style.”

Her words warmed him, but a knot of unease tightened in his stomach. “So, no Alex for the weekend, then,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Y/n bit her lip, a flicker of thought crossing her face. “Honestly, I don’t know. I guess it’s a bit of both? It’s nice to have some time to myself. But… you know how it is.” She trailed off, her eyes drifting away as if contemplating something deeper.

“Yeah, I do. Relationships can be complicated,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the opportunity. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

She turned back to him, and her expression softened. “Thanks, Seungcheol. That means a lot.”

As the evening wore on, Seungcheol found himself lost in conversations with old friends and making new ones. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, a perfect reflection of Y/N's spirit.

Later, as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Seungcheol and Y/N found themselves talking through their open childhood bedroom windows.

"Thanks for always being there, Seungcheol," Y/N said softly, her gaze fixed on picking at her nails..

He watched her, his heart swelling with affection. "Always, Y/N. That's what friends are for."

She leaned her head on her hand, and they stared at each other, both hoping that no matter where life took them, they would always have each other.

At that moment, Seungcheol realized that sometimes, the most beautiful places were the ones you were at with the people you cared about the most.

As Seungcheol sat in his dimly lit room, the flickering glow of the y/n’s Scooby-Doo night light shone in his window, transporting him back to the warmth of Y/n’s presence. He could picture her room perfectly: the walls adorned with posters of their favorite shows, remnants of their laughter still hanging in the air. It had always been a haven for her—a place where her dreams intertwined and her deepest secrets were shared.

Years passed quickly, and that cherished tradition of celebrating their friendship had drifted away like fall leaves caught in a breeze. Life took them in separate directions, and despite the countless apologies Y/n sent his way, Seungcheol could never quite shake the feeling of loss. He always believed that she knew how much those moments meant to him; her absence felt like a missing piece of his heart that was waiting to be filled.

While he tried to move on, dating a variety of girls who were kind and entertaining, none of them were Y/n. He often found himself comparing their laughter to hers, their quirks to the little things he cherished about her. It felt like an act of treason against the relationships he pursued, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop the old feelings from creeping back into his heart.

As he reflected on it all, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Why couldn't he just let go? It was foolish to cling to a childhood crush on your best friend's little sister that seemed to grow more distant by the day. But deep down, he sensed that what he felt for Y/n was something more profound than a simple infatuation. She was his first crush, someone he confided in, and the keeper of so many memories that covered his soul with nostalgia and warmth.

It was during one of those restless nights, when the weight of her absence pressed heavily on his chest, that he made a decision. Seungcheol had to reach out to Y/n. No more waiting for the right moment or hoping for a chance meeting. He needed to tell her how he felt, how much he still cared, and how he longed for the connection they once shared.

Building up his courage the moment turned into an eternity as he waited, and just as doubt began to creep in, his phone buzzed, it was her calling him as if he had manifested catching up with her.

Seungcheol's heart raced as he saw Y/n's name flash across the screen. Just the sight of it sent a jolt of anxiety through him, he pushed it down and tried to take it as a reminder of all the times they had spent together, laughing until their sides hurt or sharing secrets late into the night, almost like excitement. He hesitated for a moment, his thumb hovering over the accept button, uncertainty warring with excitement.

But before he could overthink it any longer, he pressed "accept" and set his phone to the speaker. “Y/n?”

“Cheol!” Her voice was bright, and it ignited something deep within him—an undeniable longing. “I can’t believe I finally caught you. I’ve missed you so much, sorry for the phone tag, I have been so fucking busy.

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied, his voice steadier than he felt. “It’s been way too long. I was just thinking about texting you when you called.”

“I feel bad for not making it home to see you lately,” she admitted, a hint of regret in her tone. “But.. uh, I’d love to fix that. How about we get together this weekend, like we used to? Maybe invite Soojin? Joshua?”

“Let’s do it.” A smile spread across his face. “We can go to that bar we used to sneak into and catch a show legally now?”

“Sounds perfect. Do me a favor?” she said, genuine enthusiasm shining through her words.

“Yes?” he waiting on the other end of the line hearing her giggling slightly to herself.

“Wear that old Sonic Youth t-shirt you have?”

“Why would I wear that?”

“Not sure. I just like that t-shirt. Please?”

Seungcheol’s heart swelled at the thought of being with her again, but he also felt the weight of unresolved feelings pressing on him. They’d both changed, but would the bond they shared still resonate the same way? Would she see him as just her brother’s friend or as something more?

As they continued to chat, Seungcheol tried to gauge her tone, the way she spoke about her life, the little nuances that indicated where she stood. Y/n spoke about college, her friends, and of course Alex.Her enthusiasm was infectious. But every laugh pulled him further back into the past, to the innocent moments when everything had felt so uncomplicated.

“Hey, Y/n,” he ventured, his heart beating a little faster as he gathered his thoughts. “I’ve been meaning to ask… How are you handling everything? I know things have changed for both of us.”

Y/n paused, and he could almost hear her brain processing the question. “Honestly? It’s been a bit of a whirlwind. I’m still figuring things out, but having people around who care makes it easier.��

“Yeah, I feel that,” he said, wishing he could just lay bare his feelings, let his heart spill out the way they used to share their secrets. “You know, I’ve always been here if you need someone to talk to.”

Her voice softened, and he could sense the shift in the conversation. “I know, and I appreciate that, Cheol. You’ve always been there for me, just like… well, I cant think of something always there for something else, but you get it..”

They fell into a comfortable rhythm again, but as the call slowly wound down, Seungcheol felt a flicker of resolve.

As they said their goodbyes, he heard Y/n’s voice resonate with warmth, and for a moment, the distance between them felt almost non-existent. “See you this weekend, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it,” Seungcheol replied, his heart racing at the endless possibilities that lay ahead.

Closing his phone, he let out a deep breath, a smile breaking across his face. The connection he had yearned for was just around the corner, and as he lay back on his bed, he knew that this time, he wouldn’t hold back.

present:

His heart sank at the words, a wave of frustration washing over him. “You deserve so much better than that,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Don’t let anyone treat you like you’re not worth it. How do you know he’s cheating on you?

Y/n took a shaky breath, the anguish evident in her expression. “I’ve seen the signs—the late nights, the changing passwords, the way he ducks away when I try to talk about us.” She paused, her voice cracking slightly. “I just feel it deep inside, like this gnawing instinct that something isn’t right.”

Seungcheol felt his protectiveness swell within him. The thought of anyone treating her poorly made his blood boil. “Those signs aren’t just coincidence, Y/n. People shouldn’t make you second-guess yourself like that.”

She looked down, her fingers tracing the patterns on her jeans. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but the more I try to brush it aside, the more it eats away at me. I just wish I had the strength to confront him.”

“You do have that strength,” he urged, leaning closer, wanting to make eye contact to convey just how serious he was. “You’re stronger than you think. No one should keep you in the dark or make you feel like you have to doubt yourself. But if you need my help or anyone elses you know you can ask us right? You don’t have to fight it alone. Is that why you’ve been avoiding us lately?”

“Yeah and I’m sorry I’m embarrassed. But what if I’m wrong? What if I confront him and it turns out I’m just being paranoid?” A single tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away in frustration, the vulnerability on display pulling sharply at Seungcheol’s heart.

“Y/n, you’re not paranoid; you’re being cautious. People should earn your trust, not break it. If he really cared about you, he’d be open and honest, not leave you guessing.” Seungcheol felt a surge of emotion, desperately wanting to help her see the truth. “You have every right to bring up your concerns. If he reacts poorly, that’s a huge huge fucking red flag.”

She nodded slowly, another tear escaping despite her efforts to contain them. “I just don’t want to lose more than what I already feel like I’ve lost.. I just don’t know what to do, I guess. I’m sorry I’m ruining our fun.”

At that moment, Seungcheol couldn’t help but reach out, gently cupping her chin with his fingers so she would look up at him. “You are never ruining our fun, by telling us how you feel. Remember, you’re the one who deserves to be valued, not just by him, but by everyone in your life, especially those who say they love you.”

Their eyes locked, and he felt a change in the air around them—a connection that transcended the conversation that was sinking like a stone. “You deserve love that lifts you up, that makes you feel secure. Not a relationship that makes you doubt your worth and changes your life poorly.”

“Cheol…” she started, but he could see the struggle in her eyes, the facade of strength crumbling as the truth sunk in. She was scared, scared of the possibilities, but perhaps also scared of how much this all mattered to her.

“I’ll be right here with you, no matter what happens,” he promised, his voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions swirling inside him. “We’ll figure this out together. You don’t have to face any of it alone.”

Y/n's expression softened, and the tension in her shoulders eased just a little. “Thank you. It just helps to know someone cares I guess.”

Seungcheol nodded, yearning to break through the last barriers between them. “I’ve always cared for you, Y/n. Always. And I’ll keep caring, no matter what.” Even as those words left his mouth, he felt a weight in his chest—he wanted her to see just how much more she meant to him than mere friendship, but the time for that would come later. Right now, she needed a friend in her corner, and he would be that friend, no matter what. “Should we have a drink now?”

She smiled at him again, giving him a side hug. “Yes, maybe some shots too?”

Seungcheol immediately got to his feet and winked as he bee-lined for the bar standing next to Joshua and Soojin, filling them in on his conversation with y/n. The three of them didn’t mention it the rest of the night, but just made sure to give her the best time dancing and forgetting about her shitty relationship issues before the alcohol settled in her system too much and Cheol had to carry her home.

Joshua unlocked their front door and slid into the house quietly rushing in the three other party goers in hopes not to wake his mom up considering it was a work night.

Y/n brother pulled her shoes off and rested them at the front door, basically begging Seungcheol to carry her up to her bedroom so he could go get Soojin some pajamas and change his sheets for her in his room which Cheol obliged being the most sober.

As he was carrying his friend to bed she looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know I’m drunk, but I don’t want to get my hopes up only to be disappointed again. I just... feel so lost.”

Seungcheol felt a pang of concern as he adjusted his grip on her, his heart aching at the vulnerability etched across Y/n's face. He knew the night had been a whirlwind—filled with laughter, dancing, and fleeting moments of joy—but now, as he carried her up the stairs, her honesty pierced through the haze of alcohol.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s okay to feel lost. You’ve been through a lot. But just remember, you have lots of people riding for you.

Y/n blinked slowly, her features wavering as she processed his words. “I don’t want to burden you,” she admitted, almost whispering. “I don’t want you to be sad because of me.

Seungcheol paused just outside her bedroom door, carefully shifting her weight so she wasn't too uncomfortable. “You’re not a burden, Y/n. Friends support each other. That’s what we do.”

Her lips trembled slightly, and she looked down, tears pooling in her eyes. “I just... I wish I could see things clearly. I want to believe it’ll get better, but I’m scared it won’t.”

He took a deep breath, choosing his buzzed words carefully. “It’s natural to feel scared. Change is intimidating, especially when it comes to relationships that have been so significant in your life. But that doesn’t mean you can’t start taking the steps to find what you really deserve. Like we talked about earlier. You’re worth that big true love, Y/n, even if you can’t see it just yet.”

Looking into her eyes, he noticed the flicker of hope battling against the weight of her sorrow. “You deserve to feel loved, celebrated and so fucking cherished, not just tolerated. And trust me,” he added, trying to inject a touch of warmth into his words, “the right person will come along, maybe they already have. You’re incredible.”

Y/n’s gaze held onto his, searching for truth in his words. “Do you really think so?”

“Yes, loser,” he affirmed, nodding. “I’ve been singing your praises for years, remember I did write a letter to Harry Styles trying to get him to go out with you when he was still on X-Factor so until that person comes along, I’m right here.” He started moving again, gently pushing the door open with his knee.

As he stepped inside, he carefully laid her onto the bed, her comfort a priority in the quiet space. “Just rest for now. Tomorrow is a new day. You don’t have to worry about anything tonight. Just let it go.”

She looked up at him, her expression softening as the corners of her mouth edged toward a small smile. “Thanks, CheolieI don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he assured her, tucking the blanket around her. “You’re stuck with me now.” He grinned, feeling the lightness of the moment wash over them, dispelling some of the heavy emotions lingering in the air.

She laughed softly, a sound that melted some of the tension from his chest. “Okay, but just for tonight! Tomorrow, I’ll have to start figuring things out. And can you do me one more incredibly annoying awkward favor that we never have to speak of again?”

“Deal,” he replied playfully. “Depending on how embarrassing it is?”

“Can you help me put on my pajamas? Or at least unbutton my shirt for me, I’m so warm and too drunk to care right now.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly masked his shock with a teasing grin. “Wow, is y/n too drunk to get undressed herself, it’s bringing me back to when you had your senior party.”

Y/n shrugged, her cheeks slightly flushed from the alcohol and the sudden vulnerability of the moment. “I’m serious! I can’t get the buttons right now,” she grumbled, a laugh escaping her lips as she realized just how ridiculous the request was.

“Shut up, it’s fine.” he said, trying to maintain the playful spirit of the moment while also respecting her boundaries. “But you have to promise me you won’t regret this in the morning.”

“How could anyone regret that the night star football player and homecoming king four years running Choi Seungcheol took their clothes off?” she replied with a slight smirk. “Can we actually stop fucking around though and focus on getting me comfy so I can pass out without feeling like I’m wearing a fucking straightjacket.”

“Didn’t know you thought so highly of me,” he smirked back, trying to suppress his nervousness. Carefully, he shifted to sit beside her on the edge of the bed, ensuring he kept the atmosphere light and respectful. “I’ll work my special magic.”

He helped her sit up and, taking a deep breath, gently began unbuttoning her shirt. With each button he opened, he focused on keeping his movements steady and casual,trying not to touch inappropriately whatsoever, stealing glances at her face rather than her torso. “See, I’m not so bad at this, right? Even being out of practice.” he joked, trying to ease any tension in the air.

Y/n chuckled softly, her laughter lightening the mood. “Yeah, you’re doing great. Just stop making it weird.”

“Me? Make it weird? Psh.” he teased back, his heart racing slightly as he continued, relieved that her demeanor was playful. As the last button came undone, he carefully helped her shrug the shirt off, revealing a soft bra top underneath.

“You literally just confessed to not getting laid in a long time, weirdo. Too much information.”

“God, shut up, I did not” he said, letting out a sigh of relief as he set the shirt aside. “Mission accomplished.. But it’s a good look, just so you know.”

“You’re just buttering me up to make me forget this moment, Cheol,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eyes despite her slightly vulnerable state.

“Wouldn’t dream of it! This moment is going straight into the archives as ‘That Time I Helped Y/n Get Ready for Bed,” he said, crossing his arms defiantly.

Y/n giggled, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.

Seungcheol felt warmth radiate in his chest at her words. “And you’re worse,” he said genuinely, his smile softening. “Now get some rest, cutie. I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything else.”

“You can stay here if you want? Joshua is sleeping on the couch because Soojin’s in his room.”

“Oh, uh. I’ll be alright on the floor downstairs. You get some sleep okay?”

“Goodnight, Cheolie,” she whispered, nearly missing him calling her an affectionate name, her eyes fluttering shut as the warmth of sleep began to envelop her.

“Goodnight, Bunny.” He watched her peaceful expression for a moment, then stood up from the edge of her bed and made his way to the door, feeling a strange mix of emotions. On one hand, he felt pride in being there for her, but a flicker of longing stirred inside him, reminding him of how much he truly fell in love with her.

As he stepped out into the hallway, he leaned against the wall, contemplating going back in there and comforting her for the night but also how it could affect their friendship and the feelings that lingered just below the surface. Tonight wasn't just another night; it felt like a turning point. Seungcheol had no idea where it would ultimately lead, but for now, he was grateful to be her anchor, even in the midst of uncertainty.

The next morning rolled in like a thunder cloud for y/n, she remembered walking home, but not much after that. She sat up under her pink fuzzy blanket in nothing other than her bra and skirt she had on the night before, her hair smooshed up on the back of her head like a pancake.

She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there but whoever took her upstairs left a glass of water on the nightstand and two tylenol. She smiled, grateful people have always looked out for her like this. Downing the two white pills and the entire glass of water she shot up and headed for the bathroom, walking in non- chalantly thinking nobody was behind the white door. As she turned the knob a voice came ringing in her ears.

“Josh I told you- Oh,” Seungcheol was shirtless with nothing but his wet hair cascading down his face and his towel wrapped around his body parts.” Y/n sorry.. I was just uh.. Finished.”

She slapped her hands over her eyes whispering a sorry and running back into her room, feeling a blush hit her cheeks.

Y/n's heart raced as she slammed the bathroom door shut and ran down the hall slamming her bedroom door shut her back against it, her mind swirling with embarrassment. She could practically feel the heat radiating from her cheeks as she replayed the scene in her head. How had she not realized Seungcheol was right there?

After taking a moment to collect herself, she peeked out through her fingers, her heart still pounding. “No, no, no. Why did I have to walk in like that?” she muttered under her breath, doing her best to calm the embarrassment bubbling up inside her. She could still picture Seungcheol’s surprised expression,

With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take it easy. “You’re both adults.And your friends like it, it's fine. Mistakes happen,” she whispered, trying to rationalize the embarrassment.

Y/n slowly shuffled back to her bed and flopped down face-first into her pillow, groaning. “Why is this my life?” she lamented silently, wanting to sink into the depths of her blankets and hide from the world altogether.

After a couple of minutes spent wallowing in her own pity, she finally sat up and took stock of the situation. She had to laugh at herself; if anyone could handle a little awkwardness, it was definitely Seungcheol.

With newfound resolve, she decided to brush off the incident. After all, she couldn’t stay cooped up in her room forever, and eventually, she would have to interact with him.

Rubbing her eyes, she stood up, her body still feeling a bit wobbly from the residual effects of last night. She padded over to her wardrobe and found a comfy oversized sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts to throw on. Just as she was finishing zipping up the sweatshirt, her door creaked open, and she heard Seungcheol’s voice.

“Uh... hey, Y/n?”

She froze, heart racing at the thought of confronting him after their embarrassing encounter. “Y-yeah?” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I just wanted to check if you were okay. I heard you might have had a bit too much fun last night,” he said, his tone laced with gentle teasing but lacking the usual bravado.

Y/n felt her cheeks warm again, but she twisted the moment into playful sarcasm. “Yeah, I clearly have my life together. Who wouldn’t want to walk into a bathroom with a half-naked guy?”

His laughter echoed, and she couldn’t help but smile despite herself. “Well, I wasn’t exactly expecting a guest, either.”

“So, uh, thanks for... you know, taking care of me last night.”

“Of course,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll help you with whatever.”

She nodded, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words. “Yeah, but still! I really appreciate it.”

Seungcheol’s smile faded slightly, replaced with an earnest expression as he leaned against the doorframe. “Y/n,It’s not a big deal. I’ve been doing it for years, I don’t mind.”

She bit her lip, feeling that familiar flutter in her stomach at the intensity of his gaze and the sincerity behind it. “For real, Cheol. Thanks. I mean it. Just accept the sincerity.”

“Alright, alright,” he said, breaking the moment by giving her a grin, “Want to get some breakfast or something? I’ll whip us up something..”

“That sounds great,” she agreed, “But, I actually have something I need to go do today. How about I see you later? A movie or something maybe?”

“Yeah, you know where to find me.”

“Of course.”

If today was going to be the most awkward day of her life, fine. She could handle it. Now arming herself with coffee, she had the feeling it was going to turn out just fine.What started with a flustered memory could lead to deeper conversations, and maybe even something more. First she had to confront Alex about his infidelity and then she can go back to these thoughts. Still, she giggled to herself as she thought about it—this was definitely going to be a morning they’d both remember.

Y/n parked her car in front of Alex’s apartment complex, her whole drive here she made up fake conversations to have with him in her head some of her intrusive thoughts started to get to her as she imagined much more crazy ways of how to confront him, but she knew she’d cry. She knew how hard it would be for her no matter what his answer was, yes or no, but she had to do it.

Somehow she knew either way that she may be grateful it gave her the courage to break up with him in general.

Getting out of the car, Y/n felt a mix of determination and fear. The weight of unresolved emotions pressed down on her chest as her shoes tapped against the pavement. She took a moment to inhale deeply, trying to steal a bit of calm before walking through the threshold that would dictate the direction of her life. She climbed the few steps to Alex’s building and pressed the intercom buzzer.

After a few moments, a crackling voice came through. “Who is it?”

“It’s Y/n,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

“Y/n? Oh, hey babe.! Come on up!” The excitement in his tone gave her a strange mix of hope and dread. Would he be as cheerful when they talked about the mess that had unfolded?

When she reached his door, she hesitated, heart racing. Did she really want to do this? But even as the question surfaced, she felt the guilt gnawing at her. She owed it to herself.

Gathering her courage, she knocked. After a moment, the door swung open, and Alex stood there, looking casually handsome in a simple tee and jeans, a wide smile on his face. “Hey baby, It’s so good to see you. I thought you were hanging with your brother this weekend?”

“Hey,” she replied, forcing a smile, even as her stomach churned. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah of course. Come in,” he said, stepping aside to let her through. As she entered, a rush of familiarity enveloped her—his scent, the slight clutter that was reminiscent of their time together. It should have felt comforting, but instead, it ignited a sense of dread.

She followed him into the living room, where the remnants of his gaming session littered the floor. The sight pulled at her heartstrings—how many times had they shared moments in this space? But those memories felt crushed by the deceit that loomed over them now.

“Wanna drink something? I just made coffee.” he offered, heading toward the kitchen.

“No, I’m okay, thanks.” Y/n tucked her hair into the back of her sweatshirt, feeling uncharacteristically fidgety. “Alex, I really just need to talk.”

“What’s on your mind?” He settled onto the couch, beaming with an eagerness that pitted her stomach against her better instincts.

She took a breath, the words sticking in her throat. “I... um, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Yeah? About what?” His expression shifted to curiosity, and she suspected he had no inkling of the storm about to descend.

“About us, about everything that’s happened,” she started, trying to gauge his reaction. His smile faltered just a bit, and her heart sank. “I found out about the other girl.”

His demeanor changed instantly. The confident glimmer in his eyes vanished, replaced by confusion. “Y/n, I—”

“Let me finish,” she interrupted, her tone firmer than she anticipated. She crossed her arms, drawing strength from her resolve. “I don’t want to hear excuses. I just need to know if you even care at all about what this does to our relationship.”

“I do care! I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He looked defensive, yet Y/n couldn't muster sympathy at this moment.

“Didn’t mean for what to happen? To hurt me? To also keep her a secret?” Her voice was steady, but her chest tightened as emotions swelled within. “How many times did you lie to me? How can I trust anything you say now?”

“Y/n, please. It was a mistake. I never wanted to hurt you,” he pleaded, his expression shifting from confusion to desperation.

“And yet, here we are!” she raised her voice,, feeling the anger rise, mixed with a sorrow that threatened to spill over. “I don’t know if you understand how this makes me feel. I didn’t deserve to be anything less than faithful.”

“Oh and your brothers friend is jus-”

“Shut up for one goddamn second.”

Alex opened his mouth in surprise, as if he was about to argue, but Y/n pressed on, the truth spilling out. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that we could make it work, that you’d change. But the more I think about it, the more I realize—it’s not just a mistake. It’s a choice you made. You don’t actually love me enough to just be with me.”

“Y/n...” he started, but she cut him off again, her gaze unwavering.

“It made me realize I deserve better than what you’ve given me. I need to take care of myself.”

An overwhelming silence consumed the room. Alex’s face hardened as he processed her words, the reality of what was happening sinking in.

“I just... I thought we had something special,” he muttered, hurt flickering in his eyes.

“We did,” she whispered, a pang of regret cutting through her. “But that’s the thing, Alex. You fucking ruined it.”

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she squared her shoulders. “We have to break up.”

“Y/n, wait. I can change. I swear! Just give me another chance! I’ll do better!” His plea hung in the air, desperately.

But she knew better now. “I don’t think I can forgive you for this. And I don’t think I want to try. I need to move on and find myself again.”

She turned to leave, heart racing in her chest. As she reached for the doorknob, Alex’s voice caught her once more. “I wish you’d let me explain...”

She paused but didn’t turn around. “There’s nothing left to say, Alex.”

With a shaky breath, she stepped outside, the cool air hitting her like a wave of clarity. Y/n stood for a moment on the threshold, allowing herself to breathe freely for the first time in weeks.

As she walked down the stairs and toward her car, the weight of the conversation pressed upon her, but in a different way. It was a weight lifted.

She took out her phone and texted Seungcheol. “IT'S OVER, lol. Can we still do that movie later? I could really use a friend.”

Seconds later, her phone buzzed with his response. “What’s over? Did you break up with that fucker? Thank god. I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

A smile broke through her earlier sorrow, and she felt the corners of her heart begin to heal just a little. She hadn’t expected this day to lead her in a new direction, but she was ready for whatever came next. One awkward day down, and the next chapter was waiting.

On her drive back y/n knew she shouldn’t be thinking about jumping into her relationship with Seuncheol now, but she also knew she wasted so much time with other jerks never giving him a chance, but it’s what she wanted she just had to figure out how to make it happen.

She pulled into Seuncheol’s driveway, bag of snacks in hand. Shutting her car door with her backside, nearly skipping up to his front door where he stood waiting for her with open arms dressed in his pajamas.

The sight of him, all cozy and relaxed, made her heart flutter. Seuncheol's smile was infectious, and she couldn’t help but return it as she stepped into his warm embrace. The delicious scent of something cooking wafted through the door behind him, complementing the warmth and comfort he radiated.

“Well, well, well, Miss. Bad Bitch,” he exclaimed, pulling away and taking her bag of snacks. “I hope you brought my favorites.”

“Shut up,” she laughed, her heart dancing at how effortlessly they fell into this easy banter. “How could I come empty-handed to thank my therapist?”

Seuncheol chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Good point. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Together they sorted through the assortment of chips, candies, and cookies, playfully debating over which treats deserved a spot on their makeshift movie night platter. As they settled onto the couch, their bodies nearly touching, she found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t in a long time. The earlier unease faded, replaced by a sense of belonging as she sank deeper next to him resting her head on his shoulder swinging around a piece of licorice.

“Alright, so what are we watching?” he asked, remote in hand.

She bit her lip thoughtfully, her heart racing at the idea of sharing this moment with him. “How about something fun? A rom-com?”

“Only if you promise to laugh at all the cheesy parts,” he teased, nudging her playfully.

“How about a bet that whoever cries has to jump in your pool… naked,” she shot back with a smile, feeling a thrill in their playful exchange. The movie began, their laughter filling the space as they munched on snacks, but she felt the real chemistry sparking between them, the edges of her heart warming with every shared glance and gentle touch.

As the story unfolded on the screen, she caught herself stealing glances at him, his focus entirely on the film yet his presence enveloped her like a warm blanket. Somewhere between the jokes and the popcorn fights, the realization struck—this was the moment she had been waiting for, the feeling she had longed to explore.

“Seuncheol,” she said softly, causing him to look over, pausing the movie.

“Yeah?”

“Are you crying?”

“Maybe.”

“Wow. I win!”

Seungcheol punched the air, getting up faster than he ever has, stripping off his hoodie and running out the patio door, y/n chasing behind him, knocking over the entire bowl of popcorn on her way out.

As she turned the corner to go towards his pool he snatched her up, jumping in with her in his arms.

The splash echoed through the night as the cool water enveloped them both. Seungcheol erupted in laughter, the sound bright and full of joy, while Y/N squealed in surprise, her heart racing from the sudden plunge.

As they surfaced, water cascading off their faces, Y/N couldn't help but scold him playfully, “What the Fuck. You could have warned me!” Her hair clung to her face, and she was momentarily blinded, but the thrill of the moment overshadowed any annoyance.

Seungcheol flashed her a cheeky grin, droplets sparkling on his skin. “Where’s the fun in that?” he teased, his eyes mischievous, reflecting the moonlight.

Y/N glared, though her heart was still light. “You’re such an asshole!” she laughed, splashing water back at him, her instincts taking over as they devolved into a playful water fight. He countered with playful throws of water, their laughter mingling in the cool night air—full of energy, warmth, and the promise of summer.

He was talking her through the water, pinning her against his bare chest, they both paused, breathless and giggling their legs brushing against each other as she caught her breath. “You’re going to get us both in trouble,” she said softly, her voice playful yet carrying an underlying affection.

Seungcheol tilted his head, his smile softening. “Maybe. But this is way more fun than sitting inside watching movies.” He reached for her hair, swiping it out of her face, and for a moment, the world faded around them, he took a deep breath and kissed her, rummaging his hands under her sweatshirt which she reciprocated back, tugging at his waist band, dipping her cold fingers underneath to graze him slightly in an area they’ve never explored.

“I’ve been thinking about us,” she confessed, the words tumbling out between their passionate kisses she couldn’t second-guess them. “I know this is sudden.. But, I.. uh.” she left a small whispering moan out of her lips,

Kissing her deeply again smiling into it he just whispered, “But?” and then moved his lips to her neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

She took a deep breath, her heart racing. “But I want to give us a chance. I want to see where this could go. I’ve never trusted anyone more than you.”

A huge smile broke over his face, as he pulled away for just a moment, as if her words were a key that unlocked something deep within him. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her nerves calming under the intensity of his stare. “I do. I know it’s sudden, but I’ve been in love with you my whole life.”

His eyes widened with surprise “You… you’ve loved me?” The words slipped from his lips, almost hesitant, as if he were afraid to break the spell of the moment.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice steady yet soft, the weight of her confession hanging between them like a fragile thread. “I never thought we’d get to this point, but here we are.”

He leaned in closer again, his forehead resting against hers, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. “I never wanted to rush you,” he admitted. “I just didn’t know how to tell you how I felt. It’s like… you’ve always been the only person I’ve ever wanted.”

Her heart swelled at his words, a sense of relief enveloping her like a warm blanket. “So what now?” she asked, her tone playful but laced with sincerity.

“Now? We figure it out together.” His voice was low and confident, reassurance flooding her senses. He kissed her forehead gently before pulling back slightly, his hands still locking around her waist. “I want to take our time, get to know each other in this way. There’s no rush.”

“Okay,” she murmured, the smile returning to her lips. She hadn’t realized how much she needed his patient approach, how refreshing it felt to not be hurried into something that had the potential to change everything.

He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Just know that I’m all in.”

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away, caught in the sincerity of his gaze. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words.”

“And now that you have, what do you want to do first?” he asked, a twinkle of mischief sparking in his eyes.

She grinned, feeling a rush of excitement flood through her. “How about we start with dinner? A proper date, just the two of us, to celebrate this… us. Build up even more sexual tension between us just to make it fun”

“Dinner it is,” he said, already beaming. “And knowing you a bet to who would break first.”

“My bets on you, Cheol. You’re a man.”

“Sure, Bunny. But you did already have your hands down my pants, I’m thinking you’re already a failure. But, I’ll let it slide this time.”

“Well I’ll try to control myself,” she replied, feeling a thrill of possibility unfolding before them. With newfound hope in her heart, she knew this was only the beginning.

1K notes · View notes

just-aake · 9 months ago

Text

Detecting Love Part 2

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Sequel to Detecting Love. Can a spy who's been trained to lie her entire life show the person with the power to detect lies the truth what it means to be loved?

Warnings: fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 5171

Natasha Romanoff lies.

Now, that’s to be expected, considering she is one of the greatest spies in the world. Ever since she was a child, she has been trained to be able to deceive everyone she meets.

Lying comes as easily to her as breathing, and deception is woven into every fiber of her being.

A charming smile here. A flirty wink there.

Sweet words flow from her lips like honey.

Making everyone fall in love with all of the different false personas that she created for herself.

With a life and a past as shadowed as hers, it makes sense why she never even dared to imagine finding a person who can tolerate, let alone embrace, someone like her.

Then, she met you.

With your unique power to literally see through lies, you can detect the truth from her even when she’s at her most convincing. And despite learning about who she was and how she is, you accepted her unconditionally, not just as a friend, but as a partner.

For Natasha, being with someone who can truly see her is scary, and yet, that feeling is also better than breathing itself.

The two of you have been dating for several months now, and Natasha has never been happier.

Even if she sometimes occasionally struggles to express her affection openly in public.

As the two of you stroll through the compound, her eyes drift down once again in contemplation to your hand swinging casually at your side.

As if sensing her silent deliberation, you suddenly ask her curiously.

“Do you want to hold my hand?”

Natasha straightens at your question and faces forward, responding promptly in an even tone, “No.”

Now that is sure to sound honest to anyone else who heard it, but you’re different.

Natasha makes sure to trail back slightly behind your line of sight in an attempt to hide the glow she knows you’d probably see around her.

You don’t comment on her evading action, but a faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you maintain your pace toward the Avenger’s personal elevator.

The two of you stand side by side, waiting for the elevator to arrive when Natasha suddenly feels the back of your hand lightly graze her fingers before quickly pulling away.

She narrows her eyes in suspicion at you, but you maintain an innocent expression, your gaze fixed on the decreasing numbers above the elevator doors.

Facing forward once more, Natasha is about to dismiss the action as an accidental touch when she feels it again – the fleeting brush of your hand against hers.

This time, she doesn't hesitate to shoot you an accusing stare. Yet, you continue to feign ignorance, your expression a perfect mask of innocence.

A couple of seconds pass before your hand makes contact with hers for the third time.

Before you can retract your hand, Natasha swiftly catches it and intertwines your fingers with hers before letting out a defeated huff.

You don’t utter a word about her actions, but a subtle smile curves your lips, exposing your amusement at her reaction.

With a soft squeeze of her hand, you pull her into the elevator, the door closing shut behind the two of you.

It's moments like these that remind Natasha why she fell for you — your ability to see past her lies, even the most trivial ones.

Once the elevator door slides open to the private floor, the two of you are met with sounds of a heated argument between the Asgardian Avenger and his visiting brother.

“I know you did it, Loki! This is not the first time you’ve taken and hidden a treasure of mine!”

“Oh, would you stop being so dramatic? We're talking about a mug, not some enchanted artifact.”

You raise a questioning brow at her, silently asking her whether you two should come back at another time, but Natasha shakes her head resolutely in response, not willing to let anything prevent her from missing her morning coffee.

As the two of you walk past the brothers, Thor finally notices the new presence in the room.

“Y/n!” he calls excitedly.

His hand lands on your shoulder, catching you in place between the two of them which in turn pulls your hand from her grasp.

Thor’s other hand points accusingly at his brother.

“Is Loki lying about taking my mug?”

Realizing that you’re being dragged into the middle of the argument, your eyes dart to Natasha for help, only for her to give you a thumbs up in encouragement as she takes a sip of the coffee that she just poured from the freshly made pot.

The other Asgardian crosses his arms and snickers derisively at his brother.

“Do you really think that this simple mortal can expose the literal god of mischief? I didn’t take your stupid mug, and she can’t prove any—”

“He’s lying,” you answer plainly, seeing the red aura surrounding the Asgardian.

Loki shuts his mouth in surprise, blinking at you for a moment in disbelief, before pointing at you with a disdainful look.

“I don’t like her,” he states bluntly.

“Ah ha!” Thor exclaims victoriously. “You did take it!”

The two continue with their arguing as you discreetly sneak away to Natasha’s side.

She hands you a cup of coffee which you accept with a soft thanks before an alarm on your phone rings, showing your reminder for the day.

You groan lightly in disappointment, causing Natasha to raise a questioning brow at you as she raises her cup for another sip.

“I have some interviews to get to this morning, so I’ll have to see you later,” you tell her before pressing a quick kiss goodbye to her cheek.

“I love you,” you whisper against her skin.

Swallowing her sip quickly, Natasha turns her head towards your direction, the reciprocating words also on her tongue.

“I—”

But you’ve already rushed away around the corner, disappearing from view.

“…love you too,” Natasha finishes in a soft disappointed tone, her lips twisting at your action.

Public displays of affection aside, Natasha has no problem wanting to tell you how much you mean to her.

But for some reason, you always seem to conveniently find ways to escape whenever she’s about to say those words to you.

“Now I’m no expert on relationships, but that right there was some cunning evasion tactic,” Loki comments, smirking at Natasha. “It appears that she’s not really interested in receiving such words from you.”

A slap on Loki's shoulder propels him forward a couple of steps as Thor reprimands, “Stop trying to cause problems for them, Loki.”

He then turns to Natasha with a firm nod.

“Don’t listen to him, Nat. Y/n loves you.”

Of course, she knows that.

You whisper those words against her skin every morning when you think she’s still asleep and then again against her lips when you wake her up.

The problem is that it seems that she never gets the chance to return the gesture before you find some way to rush away from the room or keep her mouth otherwise occupied and distracted.

A thud on the counter pulls her from her thoughts as Loki leans against the table with a mischievous grin.

“That girl can detect lies, right? Then why don’t you just tell her that you don’t love her, and then she’ll see the truth. That should be easy enough for you. After all, lying is your specialty,” Loki remarks before a smug expression forms on his face.

“Unless that is, the truth is that you don’t actually love her,” he taunts.

Natasha glares at him silently, refusing to fall for his baiting provocation. Not wanting to give the trickster god any more amusement, she quickly downs the rest of her coffee and leaves for the meeting room, deciding to try again with you later.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

With the briefing finishing early, Natasha decides to visit your office during this break in between her meetings. Conversations flow around her as she walks past the front desk toward the administrative part of the building.

“I’m sorry, miss, but I can’t let you enter without an appointment.”

“Well, is there any way you can just send a message to Y/n to let her know I’m here?”

Natasha’s head snaps up from her tablet at the sound of your name and curiously turns to the person who said it, only for her eyes to widen slightly in surprise at their identity.

Your ex-fiancée

Stopping in her tracks, Natasha redirects her attention to the two of them.

“What did you need to see Y/n for?” she asks.

Your ex turns to her at her question, and an expression of amazement crosses her face.

“Oh, wow, you’re Black Widow.”

Brushing off her awed exclamation, Natasha crosses her arm expectantly as she repeats, a slight tone of protectiveness entering her voice.

“Why are you looking for Y/n?”

Noticing her serious gaze and intimidating demeanor, your ex fidgets with her hands nervously as she responds.

“It’s kind of a private matter with an old case that I need her help with,” she explains.

Despite being the one who broke your heart, your mutual break up with her meant that the two of you are still somewhat friends, and as much as Natasha wants to, she can’t prevent your ex from seeking you out, especially since it seems she needs your help.

With an internal displeased sigh, Natasha gestures with her head towards the direction of the elevators.

“I’m heading over to her office right now if you want to come with me,” Natasha offers, nodding at the receptionist reassuringly to indicate that it’s okay, before walking away without another word.

Natasha hears your ex scramble to follow quickly after her once she processes her words.

As the elevator doors close with the two of them inside, Natasha pulls out her phone to send you a warning text.

I’m on the way to your office with your ex.

A read message quickly appears under her text, indicating that you have seen it, and then a text bubble promptly pops up as you respond.

?!?!?

“So, do you and Y/n work together often?” your ex asks, trying to fill the silence with casual conversation.

Natasha looks up at her question, tucking her phone away. She crosses her arms and leans back against the elevator walls, adopting an intimidating posture, as she gives her a hard stare.

With a calm yet assertive tone, she tilts her head curtly and replies with the truth.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

An awkward silence fills the small space after her answer, and your ex’s eyes dart around the enclosed space, seemingly realizing she’s essentially alone with the Black Widow who just revealed that she is in a relationship with you.

Sensing her nervous energy, Natasha relaxes her posture, offering a more friendly demeanor.

“Relax, if I was going to do something, I would have done it already,” Natasha reassures.

Your ex nods hesitantly, acknowledging Natasha’s attempt to diffuse the tension. After a moment of contemplation, she gathers the courage to speak up again.

“So, you know about Y/n and her ability?” your ex asks, her voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yes,” Natasha confirms, adding, “And about what happened between the two of you.”

The revelation hangs heavy in the air, plunging the elevator into an uncomfortable silence once again.

Honestly, Natasha knows she shouldn’t keep putting your ex in these awkward positions with her responses.

However, just because you are on friendly terms with her doesn’t mean Natasha has to be, especially considering she never held any goodwill toward the woman before.

Natasha redirects her focus to the digital display above the door, silently cursing and blaming Tony for the sluggish pace of the elevator.

“I-I honestly did love her,” your ex confesses, breaking the silence once again.

At her statement, Natasha regards her with a raised eyebrow, silently prompting her to elaborate on her sudden declaration.

"I mean, Y/n’s great. It’s just…it got hard to imagine being with someone who always knows if you’re telling the truth or not,” your ex explains with a small sigh, offering a tiny sympathetic shrug before asking. “I’m sure you understand that feeling too, right?"

Irritation flares in Natasha’s chest at your ex’s words, her protective instincts surfacing in defense of you.

"Maybe the fact that she can see someone for who they truly are is what makes being with her so special," Natasha counters, her voice firm with conviction.

The remainder of the elevator ride passes in tense silence until the doors finally open with a ding, signaling their arrival at your floor.

Throughout that time, one part of the conversation continues to bother Natasha, and she finds herself asking, wanting to know the answer.

“Did you tell her often?”

“What?” your ex asks, blinking in surprise and caught off guard by her sudden question.

Natasha presses her lips together momentarily in displeasure at the topic before clarifying, “Did you tell Y/n that you loved her often, you know, before your feelings changed?”

“Oh, um, kind of,” she admits, a faint chuckle escaping her lips. “It’s actually kind of funny. Y/n would always have this cute little shy smile whenever I said it, so I ended up saying those words to her a lot.”

The irritation in Natasha’s chest intensifies at her answer, and her feelings must be evident on her face because your ex starts waving her hands frantically in a slight panic.

“But I’m positive Y/n won’t react the same way if I said it now,” she adds quickly.

Instead of responding, Natasha leaves the elevator without another word.

Your ex’s reassurance does little to ease the irritation that she feels at not yet having been able to say those words to you herself.

The two of them arrive at the door of your office, only to find it locked with the lights turned off.

Just as Natasha is about to text you to ask you about your whereabouts, you emerge from around the corner, skidding to a stop in front of her.

Confused at your flustered state, Natasha gives you a questioning look as she asks, “Why are you rushing?”

You take a couple of deep breaths to catch your breath before answering.

“Because…I didn’t want to…to leave you waiting.”

Natasha feels her heart flutter at your words, her posture relaxing for a moment.

“…wow…you look good, Y/n,” your ex comments.

Natasha’s body immediately tenses again at the reminder of your ex’s presence, and she becomes further annoyed when she takes in the state of your appearance that prompted the remark from your ex.

You are in your usual workout outfit, a standard black tank top, showcasing your body with a gleam of sweat still on your skin, evidence of your workout session.

As if sensing Natasha’s increasing irritation, your ex gestures awkwardly in fear toward the waiting area some distance away.

“I’ll just wait over there.”

Natasha watches your ex walk away with a slight glare in her eyes.

When she turns back to you, her expression instinctively softens with affection and curiosity.

“Where were you?” she asks.

“My last couple of interviews had to cancel, so I decided to go train for a bit,” you answer with a slight shrug. “You know, since you suggested that I try training whenever I’m bored and have some free time.”

Natasha's lips twist slightly in conflict at your response. She's happy you took her suggestion to heart, but now she's also upset that it led to you appearing in front of your ex in such a state.

Gesturing toward your ex, you ask, “Did she say why she’s here?”

Natasha sighs and shakes her head.

“She only mentioned that it was an old case that you can help her with.”

“Okay,” you say, nodding in understanding, probably already knowing what she’s referring to.

Then you look at Natasha with a cute tilt of your head.

“After I finish up with her, do you want to go out for some lunch?”

A small smile forms on Natasha’s face, her earlier irritation melting away at your suggestion.

However, she knows she might not have enough time to wait and go out before her next meeting.

“How about I go ahead and pick up some takeout first, and then we can have lunch in your office when I return?” Natasha offers as a compromise.

You smile at her in response and press a soft kiss against her cheek.

“It’s a date.”

As you’re about to move past her, Natasha presses her hand firmly on your shoulder, stopping you and pushing you back to your original position.

You give her a questioning look in confusion.

“Did you take my hoodie again?” Natasha asks accusingly.

Your eyes dart guiltily to your office before you mutter under your breath with a soft pout, “Maybe.”

Natasha nods slightly in contemplation, her eyes glancing at where your ex was waiting and then back to you.

“Put it on,” she says plainly.

You raise a brow at her in confusion and gesture to your body.

“Nat, I’m covered in sweat. I didn’t get a chance to hit the showers before you texted,” you explain.

“That text didn’t mean that you should come here all hot and sweaty in front of your ex like this,” Natasha remarks pointedly, crossing her arms.

A teasing grin pulls at your lips as a look of understanding crosses your face.

“You think I look hot right now?” you ask happily.

“Seriously?” Natasha deadpans.

Unbothered by her signature intimidating gaze, you pull her closer by the loops on her belt and lean in with a slight tilt of your head.

“Are you jealous?” you tease lightly, your bottom lip caught in between your teeth as you try to hide your pleased grin.

Natasha rolls her eyes, though her lips quirk up briefly in amusement. She knows whether she responds truthfully or not, you probably already know the answer without the help of your ability, so she responds instead.

“Keep it up, and I’ll just come back with one takeout box for myself,” she warns.

You laugh lightly at her response, nodding your head in concession.

“Alright, I’ll put it on,” you promise, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips.

As you pull away, you whisper, “I love you,” the words brushing softly against her lips.

Natasha’s eyes had fluttered closed at the touch of your kiss, but they snapped open when she remembered she wanted to say those words back to you too.

However, to her disappointment, before she realized it, you had disappeared from her side.

Turning around, she finds you already in your office, putting on her hoodie.

A mocking chuckle sounds beside her, and she turns to see Loki leaning casually against the wall.

“Oh, you didn’t even try that time,” he taunts.

Without hesitation, Natasha raises her wrist and shoots a widow bite at him. It flies through his body, dispersing the apparition that he had left there.

Groaning in annoyance at his presence, Natasha quickly leaves to go get your lunches before he can reappear and provoke her further.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“So this is the one lie detector that you can’t beat,” Fury comments with intrigue, as he examines your file.

Natasha closes the folder promptly and takes it from the table in front of him, stating firmly, “Her name’s Y/n, and no, you can’t have her. She’s just going to help review the list of potential recruits for you. Nothing else.”

She gives him a pointed look, stressing, “Especially not any SHIELD interrogations.”

Leaning back in his chair, Fury chuckles amusedly and raises a brow at her.

“Protective, are we?”

Before she can affirm the lengths she would go to minimize the risks you have to take, the door slams open, and you stroll in, giving her a wave and a charming smile.

You stop in front of her, taking her hand suddenly in yours and giving it a light swing.

“Ready to get started?” you ask.

Natasha’s eyes narrow in suspicion. Something about your behavior was off and unlike you.

She examines your expression critically, and then in one swift, fluid motion, she grabs your wrist and upper arm, pivots on her heel, and shifts her weight, seamlessly flipping you over her shoulder.

With a resounding thud, Natasha slams you down onto the meeting table, the impact rattling the room.

Fury whistles lowly with a slight wince, a mixture of sympathy and admiration in his tone.

“Tough love, huh?” he remarks to her.

Natasha rolls her eyes at his comment and shakes her head, reaching to her side to grab something. She takes one of “your” wrists and snaps a golden cuff onto it.

Immediately, the figure on the table shifts from your face and form to Loki’s.

His eyes glare at her as he gathers his bearings, giving a slight grunt of pain when he moves.

“As if this woman knows anything about love,” he scoffs, standing up from the table with a groan.

Fury hums curiously at the sight of the trickster god, turning to Natasha.

“Who let him in here?”

Natasha sighs as she crosses her arms, replying, “Unfortunately, Thor and he are on friendly terms at the moment.”

Loki raises his hand and waves his finger at her in reprimand.

“Exactly. Now, is this any way to treat a guest of yours?” he taunts with a smirk before his eyes drift to the cuff on his wrist. His expression falls in recognition. “Where did you get this?”

A smirk forms on Natasha’s face as she answers, “Thor lent it to me when I asked. Since I know better than to just take his things.”

The cuff in question is an enchanted artifact that temporarily blocks the magical abilities of the wearer as explained by the god of thunder.

Loki scoffs in disbelief, placing one hand on his hips while waving his other wrist at her.

“Hilarious, now take these off,” he demands.

Natasha’s smirk remains fixed as she shakes her head.

“I don’t have the key,” she admits, tapping her chin thoughtfully before revealing, “It must still be with Thor. But I’m sure you’ve already apologized to him for earlier, so you’d have no problem asking him to release you.”

Loki scowls, his expression darkening with disdain, and then he swiftly turns toward the exit.

“It’s no wonder that girl doesn’t want to accept any love from the likes of you,” he spits out angrily.

Natasha’s lips twist downward at his words, but before she can respond, a knock on the door interrupts the tense moment.

Taking a calming breath, she calls out, “Come in,” already knowing who it is.

You open the door at Natasha’s invitation, only to dodge out of the way as Loki storms past you out of the room, muttering angry curses under his breath.

Turning back to Natasha, you notice the telltale red aura fading from around her and wonder what was the lie that you assume she had just told him.

As you approach her, Natasha’s contemplative, sullen expression quickly shifts to a neutral one when she catches your concerned gaze.

Before you can question her about it, Fury claps his hands firmly, looking between the two of you.

“Alright, let's finish this quickly then.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Seated on your sofa, Natasha hugs a cushion pillow closer to her chest, seeking comfort as Loki’s harsh words echo in her mind.

Is it just a coincidence that you manage to avoid her every time she’s about to say those words to you? Or is it possible that the truth is you don’t actually want to hear those words from her?

You place a bowl of popcorn on the table in front of her, snapping her out of her spiraling thoughts as you finish explaining what your ex needed from you.

“So, I just need to submit my notes on the case so that the court can close it out,” you explain.

Natasha hums absently in acknowledgment, but her mind drifts back to her insecurities.

Was Loki just messing with her or were all of your previous evading actions really on purpose?

Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Natasha decides to settle this once and for all.

As you take your seat next to her and start the movie, Natasha initiates her plan. She quickly maneuvers herself over your lap, straddling you as her hands rest on your shoulders, pressing you firmly against the sofa with her body.

Your hand automatically rests on her waist and begins tracing light patterns against her side, but your lips twist into a small pout of confusion as you remark, “As exciting as this is, I thought this movie was your favorite.”

Natasha closes her eyes briefly, internally groaning at your adorable words and how incredibly in love she is with you.

If only you could hear it from her for once.

Determined to not fail this time, she tries again.

“I lo—”

Her words are cut off, swallowed by you, as you pull her down into a deep kiss.

Instinctively, she melts against your body, sliding her hands to caress the back of your neck, pulling you closer to deepen the kiss as she gets lost in the feeling of your lips moving against hers.

Then, realization hits her, and she snaps her eyes open and pulls away.

“Hold on, I’m trying to tell you that I—”

“I know,” you interrupt, your hand covering her mouth to stop her mid-sentence.

That’s when Natasha sees it.

The fear in your eyes.

“I know,” you repeat, giving her a look of understanding before swallowing nervously.

You close your eyes as your head drops to your chest, a sad chuckle escaping from you.

“You know, in all my life, I have never been afraid to discover if someone was lying to me,” you admit, shrugging lightly. “I’ve always known that people can lie, so it’s never really surprising or hurtful when it happens.”

You let out a weary sigh and look up to meet her gaze with a sad smile.

“Except for that one time.”

Natasha knows what moment you are referring to — the night your powers revealed that your ex no longer loved you.

The memory flashes in your mind, vivid and raw, as if it happened only yesterday. The betrayal, the heartache, the crushing realization when the red aura appeared around her after she uttered those fateful three words to you.

Your attention returns to the woman in front of you, the one who helped heal your heart. The one who now holds it.

The one who also has the power to hurt you in the exact same way, even though you know she won’t.

“I love you so much, Natasha,” you say with breathless adoration and honesty, but your expression pinches in fear as you continue, your voice trembling slightly. “But I don’t think I'm ready to hear it from you yet. Just…not those exact words.”

You sigh sadly, understanding how unfair your words are to her, and your chest tightens guiltily as you apologize, “I’m sorry. Look, I’d understand if you want to leave.”

You look away from Natasha, your mouth pressing together tightly, fighting the urge to cry.

The silence stretches out in the room before Natasha gently cradles your face, bringing your gaze back to her.

“You make me happy,” Natasha declares firmly.

You give her a confused look at her words.

“Wh-what?”

Ignoring your question, Natasha continues, asking meaningfully, “Am I lying?”

Your eyes observe her for a moment, but you don’t see any indication of a red aura appearing.

“No,” you answer in confusion.

Natasha nods before continuing, “I don’t mind that your powers reveal truths about me, like the moments when I want to hold your hand or when I’m jealous.”

She tilts her head at you in question.

“Am I lying?” she asks again.

Still not seeing any red aura appear around her, you shake your head at her in response.

Natasha rests her forehead against yours, letting out a deep breath, before continuing, “I’m afraid that one day…” she pauses, taking in a shaky breath to prepare herself for what she’s about to admit out loud.

“…one day you’ll wake up and decide that because of who I was, who I am now is not enough for you to stay with me anymore.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you go to reassure her, “I wouldn’t—”

“Am I lying?” Natasha interrupts, not wanting you to worry about comforting her at this time.

Your eyes soften sadly when you see the vulnerability and fear in her eyes at her words.

You reach up to cup her cheek, your thumb caressing her face gently in comfort as you whisper, “No.”

Leaning against your touch, Natasha lets out a steadying breath to compose herself for the final part of her point.

“So when I say I can wait…” she pauses, looking into your eyes with a serious and determined expression, making sure you can see the sincerity of her next words.

“…I’ll wait for as long as you need so that one day I can say those words to you…am I lying?”

You watch her carefully for a moment, but nothing appears to counter her claim. Realizing her intentions to reveal her feelings in another way, your heart fills with love and adoration for her as you answer with a soft smile.

“No, you’re not lying, Natasha.”

She gives you a gentle grin and cups your face, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before admitting, “That’s because when I’m with you, Y/n, it never feels like I’m living a lie.”

A breathless, awed gasp escapes from you at her words, and you can’t help but pull her in closer, her red hair falling around you like a curtain.

“I love you,” you whisper against her lips, the words filled with genuine adoration for the woman.

Natasha smiles softly at your words and closes the distance between the two of you once again, her kisses tender and filled with all of her unspoken feelings. Her lips move against yours with gentle urgency, conveying everything she can’t yet say aloud.

The warmth of her touch, the sincerity of her kiss, and the way she holds you protectively — all of it reassures you.

It doesn’t matter that those three words haven’t been spoken explicitly — her actions, her presence, the look in her eyes says it all already.

Natasha may be considered one of the greatest spies in the world thanks in part to her exceptional ability to lie, but even she can’t hide the truth from you.

Without needing to hear her utter those fateful three words aloud, you already know the truth in your heart.

That Natasha Romanoff truly loves you too.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading and for all the love that you all gave to the first part! I hope you enjoyed this one too!

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