#i just thought of the movie 'never let you go' and of how much it must hurt to see your best friend and the man you fell for | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whatifitis · 2 days ago

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♡ I See You - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando is under immense stress due to his career and he can't drag down his love with him. Will their relationship survive a horror movie?

Author's Note: This was requested and as soon as I saw it, I was excited to start it and I had so many ideas for this so I hope y'all enjoy it!

WC: 6k+ with some instagram posts

CW: poor mental health, a bit of angst, a kiss here and there, happy ending

-=+=-

479,271 likes

f1 Just one lap could’ve made all the difference for Lando’s race 😣

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User32 Lando needs to stop thinking he ‘should’ve won’ it’s starting to seem a little entitled.. The two ahead of him have 165 wins between them

User33 They completely ruined Oscar’s race

User34 the only thing he brings to McLaren and F1 is shame

User35 Geez people in the comments are so quick to say hateful things but don’t think about how their words hurt, lando is pressuring himself into doing good and yall just wanna hate on him at any chance you get

-=+=-

Liked by bestieusername and others

f1gossip sources close to the couple are saying that Lando Norris and Y/n L/n have split after just 7 months together

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User22 she was just one of the girls he’ll date for like a summer then leave when he’s bored. Can’t wait to see who the next slut is

User67 she lost color in her face since she’s been with him, glad she finally knows her worth

User54 she looked so bored recently, and i mean it’s her right since he practically love bombed her

-=+=-

“I can’t break you when I’m breaking.” - was all you heard before everything went silent.

You and Lando had been together for about 7 months, not all of which was rainbows and daisies.

When you first met, it was like stepping into the sun again after having spent so long in the dark. You had your fair share of heartaches before Lando. It was hard for you to give in to him at first, but after a few weeks, you gave in and you’re grateful for giving not only him, but yourself a chance.

You knew what you were getting into when you started dating him. You knew he was a driver in F1 and that his fanbase could be quite protective of him. You also were aware of his crazy schedule with the races and meetings and training. Lando also told you about how he and his ex had to break up due to the invasion of privacy that was experienced, and how his ex simply couldn’t do it anymore, which is more than understandable. But even with every warning he gave you, you still stayed.

These past few weeks have been chaotic though. Lando is a strong contender for the WDC this year against Max and there’s pressure and eyes all around him. You’ve watched as the media berated him for weeks and weeks, never letting up. Everyone has high expectations of him and it’s slowly destroying him, even if he can’t see it yet.

You won’t lie, it has indeed had an impact on your guys’ relationship. Not only is distance and time difference straining you two, but the constant analysis and comments from the media have taken a toll.

It was obvious to you that Lando would be gone for most weeks out of the year, but now, even when he is home, he’s not fully there. It’s like he’s a ghost in his own home, his own body.

“You’re not breaking me” - you tell him. But you both know you’re lying. As much as you may love him, his distance has been something that has destroyed you. You started to wonder what you were doing wrong, how could you fix this?

“I am, and it’s hurting me so much that I’m doing this to you when you don’t deserve all this shit. You deserve so much more. You deserve all the good things in life, like seeing your partner for more than a week, going to the grocery store without being stalked by fans, having someone who can be there for you, someone who won’t drag you down.” he says, tears streaming down his face. His hands are shaking at the thought of losing you, but he knows he loves you too much to let you down. He’s completely broken now. His heart aches and sinks every time he thinks about how you’re being treated. He doesn’t want to be the person who takes your sparkle, who makes you feel less of a person.

“You’re not. I’m fine. We’re fine, love. I can handle it, all the shit that’s getting thrown at us. We can survive this horror movie.” you try to convince him… convince yourself, as tears are now streaming down your face as well.

“We can’t. I’m not the way I was, I’m not the same person I was when we met.” you watch as he takes a shaky breath in, trying to compose himself, “All I ever wanted was to drive and race in Formula 1. But now that I have it, it doesn’t feel enough. As soon as I joined, so much pressure was put on me to be the best. When I started, the car was shit, so I helped make it better, and I did. I feel like all I’m doing is trying and trying to please everyone and to be who they want me to be, but it’s so hard. And this isn’t what I wanted. I just wanted to race and have fun, not drive myself to the point of destruction. I don’t want to be the machine that the team, media, and fans want me, and expect me to be. I feel like I’m giving my all to the team and to the sport but it’s not enough and it’ll never be enough. I feel like I’m stuck and I can’t get out no matter what I do. The one thing I wanted all my life, and now it’s mine. But it feels like I’m theirs.” he lets out an ironic laugh.

You slowly walk to him, moving to hold his hands in yours. Without missing a beat, one of your hands gently lifts his chin, making his eyes connect with yours.

“They’re feeding you to the wolves and it’s unfair. They cheer your name until the lights go out, then they throw you to the side and disregard you till the next time they need you. They’re not fair to you and it’s draining you. You have a look that I can’t recognize. You used to love this sport with all your heart but now it’s the thing that’s killing you.”

“But I need to keep going. I need to prove that I can be what they want. I need to prove that I’m not just some spoiled, ignorant kid who paid his way to this place. I need to show that I earned my right to be here and to have this seat.” he tries to explain.

“I understand that, Lan. But we need to find a better way to handle all this. It’s clearly taking a toll on you and your health. It’s been a long year. You’re constantly watched and analyzed, with people documenting your every move to create sickening plots for their stories of you, of us. They expect so much, so you’re expected to follow, but that’s not how it’s supposed to work.” He pulls back from you, removing his hands from yours and taking steps back. You watch as he begins to pace the room, shaking his head as he speaks.

“To know me is to hate me, and to hate what I’ve become. It’s to watch me fail over and over again, and I can’t keep doing this to you. I can’t let you hold my hand in yours anymore.” he says as he stops in front of you, trying his best to refrain from spilling more tears but it’s merely impossible. His biggest fear is coming into fruition, he’s losing you. He’s letting you go. He wanted to let you out of this mess before it was too far gone for you to come back to life. You gave him all of your best self and your endless empathy.

“What are you saying, Lan?” you barely let out as a whisper, afraid of the answer.

“I’m letting you go. I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole but I have to do this. All this shit is just gonna hurt you more. You can’t do this to yourself. It’s killing me to know I’m just bringing you down with me.” he practically pleads.

“I stay because I want to, not because I feel forced to or like I have to. I do it because I love you.” your voice cracks with the last bit.

“I’m sorry for all this. I care about you a lot and I hope everything goes well. I hope you get everything you could ever want. I’m sorry for all the mess.”

“Don’t be sorry. You are worth all of the shit. But can you please let me stay?” you beg through tears.

His lips are quivering, tear stains paint his face as he breaks himself in two. Cause truthfully, you will always hold a part of him. Through all the obstacles and shit, you stuck by him.

“Goodbye, y/n.” is all he says before he turns his back on you, walking out the door.

He didn’t even wait for your response, leaving as soon as he could because he knew if he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t have followed through with the breakup.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there, in the middle of your living room. You had to watch the person you thought you would marry, walk out the door. You thought he was your forever. You shared your dreams with each other, planned out the house you two would grow old in. The house where you would have rocking chairs on the front porch where the two of you would watch the neighborhood kids run by, yelling at them to stay off the lawn. What dreams those were, dreams that would remain just that, dreams.

For a while after the breakup, all you did was lie in bed either sleeping the days away or doom scrolling on social media. It got so bad that your roommate/best friend had to physically drag you out of bed after a week of letting you rot in it.

The first day of what your best friend liked to call “post breakup, glow up”, you guys decided to just have a self care day where you took it easy and ordered in food and did face masks while coloring in some books.

It was fun and a nice distraction until your phone dinged. The look on your face scared your best friend so she looked over your shoulder to see who it was. Lando’s name was displayed along with a message, “Hey, how you been?”.

Was this how exes interacted after a breakup? Typically after the breakups you’ve experienced, there was no contact. What’s Lando up to? You knew he didn’t keep in contact with any of his exes after their break ups, so why was he texting you?

When you snap back to reality, your friend is giving you a concerned look, wanting to know what was going through your head so she could help in the best way possible.

“Should I text him back?” You asked.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, babe. He still hurt you towards the end of the relationship, although not intentionally, but it still fucked you up a bit. I don’t want you to lose the progress you’ve made.”

“Yeah, I understand. I won’t text him back then.” You tell her as you turn off your phone and throw it to the side, picking up your marker and starting coloring again.

You lied. You ended up texting him back later that night once you were back in bed, ready to end the night with what hopefully would be a decent sleep.

You and Lando exchanged a few texts, mainly just catching up and seeing how the other was. You weren’t gonna lie, it felt nice to talk to him again. But what was this gonna lead to? Hopefully getting back together, but what are the odds?

The occasional text conversations took place over the course of a few weeks. Lando knew he shouldn’t have been texting you, but he couldn’t help himself. The weeks following the break up, he went back and forth on whether he regretted it or not. He wondered if it was the best thing to do.

Every day, he saw you in everything he saw or did. When he goes to get coffee, he swears he can still hear you laughing at the mustache of foam that would appear on his face after his first sip of coffee.

When he’s outside in the park for a run, he’s reminded of you when he sees the rabbits hiding in the bushes. You always used to squeal out of joy and cuteness from the rabbits, even if you’d already seen them about 20 times prior.

Every song, every film, every color reminded him of you. He thought about you every single day, wondering what you were doing and how you were. He even went as far as stalking your Spotify profile. He knew you made playlists for everything and he would watch your listening activity to see what mood you were in.

He wasn’t surprised when he saw you listening to Taylor Swift and Gracie Abrams for hours on end. Those two were your go to sad girls. But he was surprised when none of the songs were about how shit the guy was. All the songs you were listening to were about regretting breakups and just missing someone.

The night he texted you for the first time since the breakup, he had been gaming with Max and a few of his other friends, trying to take his mind off things.

He didn't know what he texted you, he just did. He didn’t even have a plan for what he wanted to say. It turned out all right in the end though. You guys had a peaceful conversation and shared a laugh or two, for which he was grateful.

Maybe you guys could remain friends?

-=+=-

Liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and others

y/n_l/n i’m on my knees at the altar, baby

Asking God to wash you from my soul

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User4 he’s a waste of running mascara, you’re on to greater things

alexandrasaintmeux the most beautiful girl in the world

User97 ummm, what’s lando doing in the likes?! Didn’t they break up…

User23 she was a fool for thinking she could be enough for him

User10 lando leave the poor girl alone, you’ve done enough damage

-=+=-

Everytime he texted you, you came back. He’d ask to try again and you’d say yes. You’d come back to his place and spend nights there, only for him to break things off again. He keeps saying he can fix it and do better. But then he sends you on your own again. He keeps telling you how much he loves you, only to tell you he’s not good enough for you and that you should break up, again.

For two months, the two of you went back and forth. You would break up one week then get back together the next. It felt like a game that you kept losing and you were tired of it.

It felt like you were always taking one step forward and two steps back. Now you know, none of this is fair to you. You keep trying to give him your all, trying to be there for him when he needs it but he still doesn’t change.

You know you’re not falling out of love for him. But you think you have to fully let him go now. Do what he did to you to protect you, but actually block him out after. Instead of stringing him along like he did to you.

It’s a week before the Belgium GP so it’s now or never.

You asked Lando to meet you in your shared hotel room as the Hungarian GP just ended earlier. He’d gotten P2 which is amazing. But he still wasn’t entirely happy with his performance as he thinks he could’ve done better. The team thinks he should’ve gotten P1 and that it would’ve helped gain more points for the championship.

You would’ve preferred to pick a better time to do this, but there is no other time, at least anytime soon. But you don’t want to be stuck here forever, in this loop of false hope.

When Lando gets back to your shared room, he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, picking at the skin on your fingers.

“Hey, stop doing that. It’s not good for you.” He gives you a smile as he takes off his shoes and meets you in the bed. As he sits next to you, he lands a kiss on the top of your head and then a kiss on your cheek before finally connecting your lips with his in a sweet, warm kiss.

“You said you wanted to talk to me about something? What’s up? Everything alright?” He asks, a bit of concern laces his words.

You take a deep breath and sit up straight, trying to gain the courage to follow through with your plan.

“I can’t do this anymore.” You say. Lando’s heart drops at your words.

“What’d you mean?” He stutters a bit.

It takes everything in you to look him in the eye as you say “I’m breaking up with you, for good.”

“Oh.” Is all that comes out of his mouth. He’s turned his body forward, staring blankly at the wall as he processes this.

“I’m sorry, Lando. But it’s not fair to either of us. We keep stringing each other along. Hoping for something that’ll never happen. I’m tired. It feels like I’m the only one fighting for us.”

Lando suddenly sucks in a breath of air, furrowing his eyebrows and turning his body to you before telling you “no”

“No? Lando, what do you mean no?”

“No, we’re not breaking up again.”

“You can’t just say no. I’m- I’m making this decision for the both of us. For our best interest, we have to break up.”

“No, I’m not having it. I’m not doing it. It’s you and me til the end.”

“Lando, please can we ju-“

“Nope.”

You sit there dumbfounded at what’s happening. Is he refusing a breakup like it’s a piece of fish?

You sit there and stare at him for a hot minute before crossing your arms and asking “why?”

“Cause”, is all he says before he stands up and goes to take a shower.

Ain’t no way.

You’re so confused and amazed at what just happened. He really just denied a breakup.

As Lando took his shower, you took this time to process what happened and how to go about this conversation again once he comes back.

After about 15 minutes, Lando leaves the bathroom in fresh clothes and stands in front of you, “what’d you want for dinner?”

“Did you disregard my breakup speech?” You stand and ask.

“Yes. Now, where’s the room service menu?” He asks as he pads around the room, genuinely looking for the room service menu.

You bring your hands to your face and roughly rub your eyes to try and approach this correctly.

“Lando, stop thinking about the menu for 5 seconds and look at me.”

He’s stopped dead in his tracks and looks at you innocently.

This guy.

His bottom lip begins to quiver and his eyes become glossed with tears.

With a bit of rasp in his voice he tells you “We’re not breaking up. I can’t lose you again, I won’t do it. You’re the best thing I’ve ever had and pushing you away was awful. I missed your laugh, I missed your jokes, I missed your loose hairs all around the flat, I missed your snoring when I tried to sleep, I missed you. Please don’t go again.”

Tears are streaming down his face as he begs you to stay.

“Lando, we can’t keep doing the same shit over and over again. We break up one week then get back together the next. You tell me you’ll do better and you’ll fix things but nothing changes. You’re still under immense stress and letting people walk all over you. I don’t know how we can survive this anymore if you don’t try to change that.”

You start to wonder if breaking up really is the best solution. You would still be sad about losing him and you would still constantly worry about him. He would still be stuck in this toxic place where everyone puts all their expectations on him. Everyone would still harass him and analyze his every move. What would breaking up really fix?

“Please. I’m standing here trying to be honest. We’re a thousand miles away from the day that we started, and I’m still in love with you. I just wanna forget everything that’s come and gone cause I hate not being with you. The stars don’t shine as bright when you’re not here.”

Slowly, you walk up to him, reaching for the sides of his face and using your thumbs to wipe away some of his tears. He instinctively moves his hands to your hips, holding you as tight as he can, as if you’re water in his hands. You look him in the eyes and realize you love him too much to let him go. You two love each other too much to leave it like this.

“Hey,” you say softly, “why don’t we do this? The Belgian GP is next week, right? You’ll go do that and I’ll go home for a bit. After the Belgian GP, I’ll meet you in Glastonbury, yeah? We’ll spend your break there and we’ll try and sort out whatever’s going on up here?” You ask as you gently tap the side of his head.

All he can do is smile, grateful for you and your patience with his shit. He nods his head yes before pulling you closer and holding you tight, burying his face into your neck.

With a deep breath, you feel Lando relax in your arms.

“Thank you.” He whispers in your neck. He can’t believe he’s able to keep someone as special as you in his life, even with the war in his head.

“We’ll be alright. We’re okay”, you don’t say anything else, just holding him closer, knowing it’s enough for him right now. Maybe you two could try to go back where you started.

Lando booked a flight from Belgium to go back to his hometown almost immediately after the race. He just couldn’t bear being away from you for so long, especially after all the shit you guys have been through, especially after all the shit he put you through.

You decided that since he’ll be landing quite late, the two of you would spend the night watching movies and eating some home cooked food. The beginning of the healing journey could start tomorrow.

When he landed at the airport, he was greeted by you with a massive sign that said “Lando Norris - STD clinic emergency shuttle”.

The amount of laughs that the sign got was a joy to you. Especially the laugh Lando had let out upon reading the sign. He knew you were gonna pull some shit like this, although he was surprised you didn’t wear scrubs to add to the bit.

With a big warm hug, Lando finally felt like he could start to relax and let go, at least until the next race.

The two of you made your way to your car, then headed back to a secluded airbnb that you had rented for the next few weeks. Although the two of you were more than welcome to stay with Lando’s family, the pair of you thought it would be best if Lando had a place with some real peace and quiet to be able to sort through his mind.

During the drive to the airbnb, you put on a playlist that you had made for drives with Lando at the beginning of your relationship. It had been a while since you’d played it, so it was a pleasant surprise for him when he realized what playlist was playing after a few songs.

“I forgot about this playlist. Missed it." He gives a soft smile. The one he used to have before all the chaos had been inflicted. You can tell this little break will definitely bring back at least a small piece of your Lando.

“I did too. Found it the other day when I was clearing my playlists. I added a few more songs as well. I know we usually pick the songs for this playlist together but I thought it’d be nice. Hope you don’t mind.” you tell him, wondering if maybe he’d be upset that you messed with the playlist without him.

“Nah. I like it. Like a bit of a surprise for me.” he says as he shrugs his shoulders. You smile as you look at him for a moment. Your boy is coming back to you, slowly but surely.

“Oh, don’t speed here. There’s always this one fucking guy sitting in a corner, ready to give anyone and everyone a ticket.” he tells you as you turn onto a certain street.

“You know every road in this county, don't you?” you tease, watching as he gets a bit shy.

“Yeah, let’s just say he may or may not love to see me coming. He used to catch me speeding all the time and he gave me too many fucking tickets.”

You just sit there and laugh at him. Of course the Formula 1 driver always gets caught speeding.

Once you pull into the driveway for the airbnb, Lando is smiling, already getting out of the car and closing his eyes, breathing in the fresh air and taking it all in. He’s excited and grateful for this break from the races. As much as he does enjoy the actual racing, all the other factors were pushing him to his breaking point. The sun was collapsing but he didn’t realize until everything came crashing down all at once.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when you close the car door. He starts moving to the trunk of the car to pull out his luggage. You wait by the front of the car, watching him roll his way to you and taking your hand in his as he leads you to the door of the house.

The second you unlocked the door and opened it, Lando ran in like a kid and immediately dropped all his belongings before flopping onto the couch.

Yup, that’s my man.

“You like it? Out of all the rentals available, I thought this one was the best. It’s a bit far from everything and there’s a hiking trail not far.” you tell him, walking to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Lando is rolling on the couch as if he were a dog trying to get into a comfortable position. His head pops over the back of the couch to look at you, “Yeah, seems quite cozy. Thanks for this, darling. I know I don’t really deserve you but I’m really grateful that you’ve given me so many chances.”

“Don’t thank me, love. I love you and I want you to be okay,” his cheeks blush at your words. It’s been a while since you’ve called him ‘love’, “Put something on the tv and lie down for a bit while I prepare dinner, yeah?”

“You sure I can’t help you? I can peel a potato or something… okay maybe nothing as advanced as peeling a potato but I can boil noodles or something.” he chuckles a bit.

“Gorgeous, last time you tried to boil noodles, you burnt the water. I still don’t know how you managed that.” you couldn’t contain your laugh at the memory. It was one of your first dates with Lan and he’d wanted to make you a home cooked meal. Take out ended up being delivered.

“Yeah, alright. We’re watching Hannah Montana.” he said as he flopped his back against the couch.

When dinner was cooked, you and Lando plated the food before moving to sit on the floor in the living area, using the coffee table to eat off.

The two of you continued watching Hannah Montana until the episode where Blue Jeans became ill. Lan immediately changed the show to play the movie rather than the tv series.

“Lan, you do know Blue Jeans recovers at the end of the episode, right?”

“Yeah but he still has to go through the traumatic experience of being bitten by that snake and I just can’t. We’re gonna watch the Hannah Montana movie now and slow dance to ‘Crazier', cry to ‘Butterfly Fly Away’, and dance to ‘You Can Always Find Your Way Back Home’.” he tells you sternly. He's made up his mind and nothings gonna change that. So that’s just what you do.

When Taylor Swift appears on the screen and starts singing ‘Crazier’, Lando jumps up off the floor and leans his body towards you, holding his hand out for you to take. Once you place your hand in his, he pulls you swiftly off the floor, pulling your body close to his. You wrap your arms around his neck while his hands are secured on your waist. The two of you swing your bodies slowly and effortlessly to the melody that’s playing in the background.

When the lyric “you lift my feet off the ground.” Lando does exactly that. He’s gripped your waist and lifted you in the air, bringing a squeal out of you as you were not expecting that. He keeps you above him as you let out a fit of giggles. Once your feet land back on the ground, you fall into Lando, trying to catch your breath. You listen to his heartbeat and hold him tight. He really is your favorite person.

In true Lando fashion, he knows all the words to this song. As he should since he decided it was one of your songs a while ago. You watch as he sings the words to you, and you realize just how truly in love you are with the person in front of you. You would wait forever for him. He’s the closest to heaven you’ll ever be.

Once the song ends, the two of you sit back down and continue watching the movie. You were cuddled up to Lando, wrapping yourself around his arm as he rested his head on yours, occasionally leaving soft kisses.

The beginning chords of ‘Butterfly Fly Away’ play and Lando is already in tears. He’s already buried his head into your shoulder as he sobs about how emotional the song is. “He was always there for her. He tucked her in and turned out the light. He had to do it all alone!”

All you could do to comfort him was hold him close to you and rub his back. You hummed along to the song, Lando loved it when you did that. You never sang in front of him, but when you did, it was like God's greatest gift to him.

The end of the movie was near as the opening chords of ‘You’ll Always Find Your Way Back Home’. The two of you were already on your feet, ready to dance and sing along. Lando had even pushed some of the furniture out so that there was more room for dancing.

With some crazy moves and a whole lot of jumping around, you and your love had the time of your lives.

Lando is pointing at you when he sings the lines “‘Cause, when I’m feeling down, and I’m all alone, whoa, oh. I’ve always got a place where I can go.” singing completely off key but who cares, he’s having fun, and so are you.

When the song comes to an end, you’re in Lando’s arms, trying to catch your breath again. But it feels impossible when everytime you look at him, he takes your breath away. The most beautiful man ever is yours? Crazy, really.

You stay in his arms for a moment, looking into those eyes that looked like sunlight was filtering through leaves.

“Home.” he breaks the silence, smiling down at you wholeheartedly. He cocks his head to the side before continuing, “You’re my home.”

It took everything in you not to break down into a puddle of tears at that moment.

Instead, you bring your lips to his, connecting them in a sweet, soft exchange.

After putting the furniture back in place and cleaning the dishes from dinner, you lead Lando to the room you’ll be sharing during this little vacation.

After a quick shower, Lando meets you on the bed, almost collapsing onto it due to the exhaustion he’s been in.

There’s no need to exchange any words at this moment. You just pull Lando into you, watching as he rests his head on your chest and wraps his arm around your waist. You scratch the back of his neck, messing with his curls a bit as your other hand draws patterns on his bare back.

After a minute, you feel Lan relax into you, watching as his breathing becomes shallow and steady. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep and you're thankful. He truly does need sleep, especially for the talk you two will have in the morning.

You follow suit with Lando and fall asleep soon after him. It was the best sleep you’d had in ages.

The sun shines through the thin, cotton curtains that cover the windows. Lando’s chest is warm against your back, his arm wrapped around your torso, keeping you close to him. The steady breathing lets you know he’s still sound asleep. You check the time, reading 7:24 am. It’s still a bit early so you decide to get some breakfast prepared for when Lando wakes up.

You slowly and quietly move out of his arms, careful not to wake him as you know he won’t stay in bed if he knows you aren’t next to him. Once you’re out of bed, you brush your teeth and

make your way to the kitchen.

Breakfast is kept simple, just some overnight oats with some fruit and honey. After a few minutes of washing and cutting some fruit, you watch as Lando emerges from the bedroom, sleep lacing his features.

“I didn’t hear you leave the bed.” he frowns at you.

“Sorry, darling. I knew you were tired and I didn’t want to wake you so soon. But your timing is perfect! I've just finished preparing breakfast.” you smile gleefully, presenting him with a beautiful bowl of fruits and oats.

The smile on his face is enough to brighten the whole room. “Thanks, baby. Looks amazing, as always.”, he walks around the kitchen counter to kiss you.

Once he’s sat down and begun eating, you tell him your plan for the day, or his plan.

“I was thinking we could go on that hiking trail I told you about. Getting some fresh air and some sun could be good for you. We could also talk a bit? About everything?”

You can tell he’s a bit uncomfortable from the way he stiffens when you mention wanting to talk. He was never really one for talking about himself and the things he’s struggling with. He much prefers listening but he knows he has to let you in a bit.

Without looking up at you, he responds, “Yeah. Sounds good.” continuing to stuff his face with his oats.

Once you two had finished breakfast, you put on your shoes and made your way to the hiking trail.

During the beginning of your walk, you decided it would be best to get Lando to feel comfortable before jumping into the whole discussion of him and his mental health. So you begin by asking, “So, Tarkov, how have you been doing in it?”

He looks at you with genuine surprise, wondering why the fuck you’re asking about Tarkov when he knows it’s not your type of game. But, he answers anyway, “Erm, it’s turned into more shit and giggles if anything. A lot of messing with Max and them. Oh, the other day I stabbed Max’s character in the leg cause he stabbed my foot. And then I stabbed him again but his game was glitching so he couldn’t heal. He was actively dying and couldn’t stop it so I shot his guy. Let’s just say he wasn’t exactly joyful about that. But in my defense, he would’ve died anyway. It was a mercy kill.” he laughs to himself.

After almost 45 minutes of walking, you guys stumbled upon a nice lake that was surrounded by trees. There was a shore with some large boulders so you led Lando there for a bit of a break from walking.

You two sat there for a moment before you broke the silence to try and talk to him.

“You know I love you right?” you ask him, watching him look down at his hands and start to fiddle them.

“Yeah.” he responds quietly.

“I want you to be okay, Lan. I can see you being torn apart by everyone and everything. I don’t want to watch you fall because you don’t deserve that.” “It’s hard, being me. I know I should be happy for everything that I have. I mean, I have money, a house, so many fucking cars that I don’t need, a loving family, and the most amazing and beautiful girlfriend. But, it feels like I’m drowning in everything with racing.” - he confesses, his tone is low, matching the way his reality makes him feel so small.

You scooch closer to him, taking his hand in yours, “I know it’s been hard. And you have the right to feel the way you do. You’re the person who gets the most shit right now with the media. They’re all twisting shit to fit their narrative. But you need to keep pushing back, don’t let them walk over you anymore.” “My mind is complicated. But when you’re here, next to me, it quiets a bit. I know that when I’m with you, everything is easy, like a million things can be thrown at me, but at the end of the day, if you’re here, I’ll be okay. I know I sort of broke you, someone I love so much. It’s all me, in my head. I burned us down and I’m sorry I did that to you. I don’t wanna lose you.” “You’ll never lose me, Lan. I’ll keep your hand in mine, until we’re food for the worms to eat, til our fingers decompose. This love of ours isn’t temporary. So I’m not gonna give up on us, on you.” - your hand touches the side of his face, bringing him to meet your eyes before you continue, “I’m still yours, even when you lose your mind and try breaking up with me a million times. None of this is your fault. You’re all I want.”

Tears begin to stream down his face as he leans his forehead against yours, “I just want you to know who I am, outside of the racing and the drama. I don’t want them to see me, just you, cause you’re the only one who understands me.”

You lift his chin so he can look in your eyes again as you say, “I know who you are. You’re the best thing that’s ever been mine, and I’m never letting you go again.”

-=+=-

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Tagged: y/n_l/n

landonorris baby, you showed me what living is for and i dont wanna hide anymore

Thank you for everything, my love. I wouldn’t be where I am without you 🧡

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User23 now wait a min ✋ how many chapters did i miss?

User54 i told y’all they were fine! No way a couple as in love as them would ever break up

User75 alexa, play ‘that should be me’ by justin bieber 🫠 User13 omg, and the taylor lyrics 😭 she loves taylor swift and he dedicated it to her 😭😭😭😭😭

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act-nat-ural · 1 day ago

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First Sight

@dira333: what if you're related or friends with the Miya twins and they accidentally or not set you up with someone on the msby roster? Meian is really cute if you know the manga, but there's also Sakusa, Hinata or Bokuto

word count: 1782

Osamu had already closed Miya Onigiri for the day, yet his two favorite moochers were still sitting at a booth consuming his food for free. He sighs, having already locked the doors, and put the chairs on top of the tables. He takes a seat next to Atsumu and joins your guys’ conversation. “I’m just sayin’,” Atsumu starts, “If yer so lonely, go out an’ meet someone. It's not that hard.”He finishes his sentence by taking a gigantic bite. He nods to himself like he made a great point, though you and Osamu are giving him side eyes.

“And how would ya know that? Ya haven’t gone on a date in over three months.” You point out.

Osamu snorts and adds, “Last relationship I remember you cryin’ like a baby, saying’ that ya would never love again.”

Atsumu scoffs and mumbles a “Shuddup!” while you let out a deep sigh and rest your head on the cool surface of the table. “It's not fair.” You whine. “I've got like, no love life. Why don’t ya set me up with yer hot friends?”

They share a look for a minute, then at the same time say “No.” You scoff and slam a hand on the table.

“Why the hell not!”

Osamu raises his hands in defense while Atsumu enters ‘big brother mode’. “Yer our only sister, and I love ya too much to set ya up with the idiots I call friends. Yer too good for them!” You roll your eyes but he continues. “Omi probably has some secret girlfriend already, Shoyo only thinks about volleyball, and Koutaro’s.. Well, he's.. I dunno. But I don’t trust them with ya!”

You groan and give Osamu a pleading look. “Please?” He gives you a deadpan look.

“It's a hard no. I’d have to kill Rintaro if he even looked at ya wrong.” You groan and throw your hands in the air.

“Gimme a break! I’m a grown woman, I can handle myself.” They both burst into laughter, so you kick Atsumu under the table.

“Owch! Hey!”

–

You were watching a movie at home by yourself when you heard your phone start to buzz. You glance away from the screen to see ‘Samu’ in bold letters pop up on your phone. You pause the move and check the text he sent you.

Samu: Hey. You still looking for a date?

Your eyes widen and you start to squeal. “Yes! ‘Samu for the win.” You start to celebrate prematurely when your phone buzzes again.

Samu: I have an idea but Tsumu wouldn’t like it lolol

Your smile drops and you grab the phone to respond.

You: what does that even mean…

Samu: Sooo have you ever met his team before?

You: no, I’ve met Kiyoomi but only briefly. why?? who are you thinking of?? Omg

Samu: that desperation is exactly what made me think of him LMAO

You gasp in offense and angrily respond,

You: WTF DOES THAT MEAN

Samu: anyway! 🙂 I was thinking of inviting some of the team to my place for dinner or something, you wanna come? you can’t tell Tsumu you’re coming though or he'd throw a fit or smth.

You chew on your lip in thought. On one hand, you really want to meet someone. On the other, if it ends up not working out, it could really make things awkward for your brother and his friends. You pause. He’ll be fine.

You: I'll be there :) love you!

Meanwhile, Osamu sighs and leans back against the headboard. “She better not say I never do anything for her. Hmph.”

Samu: love you too 🙄

–

Osamu was drying his hands when he heard the doorbell ring. “Comin’.” He opens the door and there stands Atsumu, Kiyoomi, Shoyo, and Kotaro. Atsmu gives a cheeky grin, holding up a case of beer.

“I come bearing gifts.” Koutaro blinks in confusion.

“But I bought it-”

“Shush.”

Osamu moves aside so they can all come in. “No one else comin’?” Kiyoomi shakes his head.

“Shugo was going to but he got caught up with something. The rest all had other arrangements.” Osamu nods in understanding. Shoyo immediately beelines for the kitchen.

“What smells so good? I’m starving!”

Kiyoomi furrows his brows stating, “You ate the whole way here.”

Just then, the doorbell rings again. This time there is no need to open the door, because you just so happen to have a key. “Hello!” You stroll in like you own the place. Osamu has to fight to hold his laugh in when he sees the look on Atsumu’s face.

“I didn’t know what to bring so I just brought cookies. I think I burnt them though.” You mumble. Kiyoomi gives you a nod in acknowledgment as you set the platter of charred baked goods on the counter. “Soo… are ya gonna introduce me?”

“Samu. What is she doing here?” Atsumu chokes out. You scoff.

“I’m literally standing right here.”

“What? I can’t invite our own sister to my apartment?” Osamu gives an innocent shrug.

“This was supposed to be a guys night!” Atsumu complains childishly.

Shoyo pipes in, “I don’t mind! The more people the better. Right, Bokuto? ….Bokuto?”

–

If you had asked Koutaro then, he would have sworn he had never seen a more beautiful girl. The moment you walked in the door it was like he lost all of the air in his chest. He almost texted Keiji to ask what a heart attack felt like. His heart thumped in his chest and he could feel his hands start to get sweaty. Pretty girl. I’m not good around pretty girls.

He didn’t even realize that he was being spoken to until Shoyo poked his arm. “Huh? Wha? Oh- Yes. Stay. Please.” Everyone just kind of stares at him for a moment before moving on. He accidentally stares at you while you get introduced to Shoyo, yet you don’t notice till Atsumu tries introducing him. You give a shy smile and a wave, and that's all he needs to see to know that he's a goner.

–

You had never taken a good look at Koutaro Bokuto before this, and boy do you wish you had. Everything about him had you feeling weak in the knees. He was very built, taking up a large portion of the sofa that he was sitting on. You had snuck a glance at his back while walking in and Jesus. That man was built like a Greek god. His golden eyes seemed to never leave your figure, and he kept giving you a dopey smile. You give a small smile back and wave, hoping you don’t make a fool of yourself. Later, you swore you saw Osamu give you a thumbs up, but he denies it.

Everyone else flocks to the kitchen to start getting something to eat, yet you and Koutaro stay behind. You hesitantly sit down beside him, a few feet away. You both give sheepish smiles directed at the other, not sure what to say. Just then, Osamu comes back. “Darn. We’re out of soy sauce. Koutaro, (Name), do ya guys mind going to the market and grabbing some?” He says, not very convincingly.

Shoyo gives him a confused look and starts, “But there was some-”

“Shush.”

Koutaro immediately shoots up from his seat. “Yeah, we can get it!” He gives you a beaming smile and you can’t help but return in. He lends you a hand up from the sofa, practically bouncing with excitement. “We’ll be back soon.” Osamu gives you a wink and pats your back.

“Take your time.”

You and Koutaro are silent for a while as you walk to the nearest market. You notice that while his strides are larger than yours, he slows his pace to match yours. He shoves his hands in his pockets and takes a glance around

“So, what do you do for fun?” He turns and asks suddenly. You hum in thought.

“I guess I hang out with my brothers a lot. I watch movies alone sometimes. Work has kept me busy recently, so I haven’t been doing much recently.” He nods in understanding.

He clears his throat before inquiring, “You don’t watch movies with your boyfriend?”

You smile and shake your head, laughing. “No, I don’t have one.” He stops walking and gawks at you.

“Seriously?! You're single?!” You raise your eyebrows in surprise and nod slowly.

“Yeah.. why? Is it that surprising?” He shakes his head yes enthusiastically.

“I totally thought you’d be married or something, you're so pretty.”

You go quiet. “Really?”

“Yes! Really! Man, I thought I had like no shot.” He adds. You both freeze and look at each other wide eyed.

“Huh?”

“What?”

You sputter and point at him. “Ya just- ya said ya thought-”

“I- well-!” You both stand on the sidewalk, fidgeting with your hands. He scratches his head and blushes. “Are you free tomorrow?”

You had never said yes faster in your life.

–

You two were dying of laughter, wiping your eyes from tears. “Man, I wish I had sisters.” You say.

“Yeah, they're pretty cool.” He says matter of factly. You both had gotten sidetracked and never ended up going to the market. Currently, he and you were sitting on a pair of swings at a local park. Your phone buzzes softly and you apologize to him before checking it.

Tsumu: where tf did you go

You: don’t cockblock me <3

Tsumu: PARDON?

You click your phone to silent before turning back to Koutaro. “Now, where were we?”

–

It only took a few dates before he asked you to be his girlfriend. You agreed, of course. You would've said yes if he had asked the night you met, if you were honest. Atsumu begrudgingly gave Koutaro his blessing to propose a couple years into dating. Osamu was a bit offended that he didn't ask him, considering he was responsible for you two meeting.

Koutaro was terrible at keeping secrets, so he ended up proposing the second he got home after ring shopping. You felt a bit ambushed, having been washing dishes in unwashed pajamas, but it was still a definite yes.

Currently, Atsumu was walking up to the mic to give a speech during your wedding. You rest your head on Koutaro’s shoulder, and he intertwines your fingers. Atsumu pokes the microphone and the feedback screeches, bothering everyone.

“Ahem. Now, if anyone knows me, they know I love my sister. That, and I only want what's best for her. That having been said, I would like a ‘thank you’ for this marriage, considering it was my idea to get ya together.”

“Liar!”

note: i just realized i keep writing the twins shushing people lol. Bokuto is so fun to write for 😭 he’s so silly

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #hq x reader #hq #haikyuu x female reader #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto x reader #hq bokuto #bokuto x fem reader #fem!reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #hq timeskip #timeskip bokuto #haikyuu fluff #request

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scribeofmorpheus · 20 hours ago

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Dragon Age Veilguard: Love, Wisdom and Pride

A very long Dragon Age post!

Warnings for: Veilguard Spoilers, Solavellan spoilers.

Okay, so I will preface this by saying that this ‘analysis’ primarily focuses on Solas’ arc; both romanced and unromanced. It isn’t intended to be a romanticised analysis, though it is very much enamoured with how a romanced Solas and his relationship with Lavellan foils (and informs my reading/reception of) that of Solas and Mythal’s relationship in Veilguard. There is a relationship I will address that I feel does parallel Solas and Mythal! Scroll down to “Reading Between the Lines” if you wanna skip my little intro below. Spoilers follow.

Truth be told, I wasn’t ever expecting much in terms of actually getting a sequel to Inquisition. The game dev market went through a tumultuous reshuffle before the remake madness breathed life back into many studios. Bioware game sequels (Mass Effect Andromeda) were underwhelming and not as fleshed out since the EA acquisition. I absolutely believe Bioware would have been shunted had Mass Effect Legendary Edition not been so successful. EA’s reputation was always lacklustre and underhanded, but laying off or losing several head writers attached to Bioware with almost two decades of work under their belts was the biggest red flag. Trevor Morris not being asked to return in exchange for a ‘bigger name’ was also a grave warning that returning to the atmosphere, ambience and world of Thedas that we knew was getting further and further away from a plausible reality. And on top of that, there’s the fact Solas was never intended as a romance interest during early development of Inquisition.

Solavellan seemed doomed!

Despite this, I still held out hope for a sequel, but I feared we’d always be in permanent Solavellan/developmental hell. Heck, I’m still waiting for a Beyond Good and Evil sequel—the game released in 2003! So, actually witnessing people play Veilguard, seeing reactions to it, seeing memes and gifs and essay pieces (like this one), it’s like my community has awoken again, and I never thought I’d see the day. Yet I am not blind to the fact we were robbed of so much potential. I knew thing’s wouldn’t live up to re-emerging expectations when Dragon Age: Dreadwolf was rebranded to Veilguard—the shift seemed to imply less of a primary focus on Solas (and apparently, according to the artbook, the early concept art proves this implication correct).

Things seemed even more dire when the devs revealed there was no tapestry mechanic. I had only one hope: that with the Inquisitor’s confirmed return, we’d get at least some form of catharsis for our Inquisitors (Lavellans and otherwise), if we couldn’t get the conclusions to so many storylines present in each of our worldstates. My main fear was that they’d go the clichéd Ultimate Sacrifice route (which happens anyway, but in a way that makes thematic sense given the stakes and heavily blighted worldstate).

Suffice it to say, there was a lot of evidence that Veilguard would disappoint me in the end. But it hasn’t. It hasn’t lived up to the many expectations and marks of excellence that the Dragon Age world built itself into with the first three entries, that’s for sure, but I am also just so deprived of conclusions, of endings (whether it be because TV doesn’t exist in a sustainable format anymore or that comicbook movies are made with a sequel in mind, never letting anything just “Exit Stage Left” gracefully; or the fact we live in a regurgitating content cycle with late-stage-capitalism where anything remotely profitable gets turned into a caricature of itself: Squid Game, Star Wars, etc.). The cycle is so exhaustive that I am actually at a point where I can say I am content with the ending we were given (on a Solas/Solavellan front), Veilguard gave me relief, and beautiful, achy pain to boot. Though I would absolutely be disappointed by both the "non-romanced Solas" endings, given that Solas winds up either "dying alone, forever" or turns to Tyranny.

Now onto the actual review of that Solavellan ending, Mythal and themes of Love!

Note: I have only gotten the ‘best’ ending in my first playthrough, but I also thought the consequences of not maxing factions would be more… dire? Another note, pls, if your romanced Inky swore to stop Solas, how does that ending differ, if at all? Let me know, I’m dying here!

Sidenote: I’m working on writing another review about my views on the ‘sanitised’ worldstate, the new companions (and why I think Varric was the wrong choice to have as an advisor in the game, given that the Inquisitor or Morrigan would have been more impactful; and not to mention that Cole or Briala should have been companions), removal of the tapestry and what it means for the future of stories in Thedas (The Story We Lost is such a poignant compilation of the sheer volumes of lost lore and depth that I honestly think I won’t go as in-depth on that review as this one), and why I think Veilguard is my final entry into Dragon Age.

Reading Between the Lines: What Pride Hath Wrought

One thing is for sure, Trick Weekes flourishes when writing within the ambiguities and complexities of meaning. This makes every word uttered by Solas so great to dissect, he's a god of lies not because he 'lies' but because he's so careful with how he phrases things, what he holds back, and what he reveals.

For instance, the famous Trespasser exchange where Solas mocks his own follies with sarcasm by saying:

“What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf Take you.”

Then a softer, more saddened and beaten-down Lavellan replies:

“And so he did.”

This irks him. Because he then realises in that moment that he absolutely did take advantage, but for some reason he frames it around sex rather than power because that’s easier to address than the latter. And he rejects the notion, even though he brought up the expression he knows to mean nothing close to a sexual inuendo for being ‘taken’, and yet he has the gall to try and derail the conversation by pivoting and saying:

“I would not lay with you under false pretences.”

When I first had this dialogue exchange, I was baffled, because did this mean that there was another meaning to ‘Dread Wolf take you’ that Dalish clans lost through the years, or was it more of a self-deprecating joke Solas had with himself because he, the Dread Wolf, romanced (took) a Dalish Inquisitor (away from her people’s beliefs, histories, past), and he found irony in the saying?

On the surface, “wouldn’t lay with you under false pretences” could simply mean “we didn’t sleep together” or “we did sleep together, but I wasn’t taking advantage as the Dread Wolf, I was simply Solas in your presence”. But I have recently thought of a more… ambiguous reading. Lay could have been used in a milder, more vulnerable way; to mean to be at peace, to be completely vulnerable, as if to sleep. In that sense, the phrasing becomes: “I could not be at peace with you because I was living a half-truth”.

I absolutely think the moment he feels he is truly beyond hope is when we see his expression of abject horror as Lavellan shouts: “I would have had you trust me!”. He realises then that he did fuck up, he did take the choice away from her because he thought he knew better, him and his pride led to a decision that hurt someone close to him, and he could finally see how wrong he was, how alike the entire situation became to Mythal’s treatment of him. Especially if Lavellan asks to go with him. Because he can see that despite the hurt, the lies and the betrayal on his part, Lavellan still wishing to join him draws too close to his first regret: following Mythal.

Whether he likes it or not, Solas’ love which could burn like a bonfire was directed at a powerful woman—a Herald, an Inquisitor—and inspite of her greatness of character, it still shaped her into someone willing to follow him on his dinanshiral out of love, much like he left the Fade and took physical form for Mythal. So now whenever I hear Lavellan shout “Var lath vir suledin”, Solas replying with “I wish it could, Vhenan,” changes drastically with the Mythal reveal, knowing he always walks away from the Inquisitor in Trespasser.

“I wish it could, Vhenan” sounds heavily like: “You would regret me, as I regret Mythal, and I cannot bear for that to happen us.” More poetically, it could read as: “I wish our love could overcome a duty that has lasted an incomprehensible amount of time, I wish I could change my nature, but then I’d be twisted into a demon, like the spirit of Wisdom in the Dales; and yet again, I would become your regret.” These two readings are very, very romantic. Realistically, given what we know of his kinship with Felassan, and how they were comrades and friends for centuries (“A story unfinished. His back turned!”), and given what we know of the complexity of Mythal’s will that presides over the creation of his very being, and yet he was still able to muster the strength to kill a fragment of her to fulfil his mission, “I wish it could” was most probably a lament: “Do not ask me to hurt one of the two women I’ve loved on this journey, because if it ever came to it…” he would.

Knowing what I know of Solas, of how he was able to convince himself that Varric’s death (avoidable as it was) was just another necessary step, that it was just another sacrifice, another loss that would be worth something only if he completed his ritual, I have no doubt that Solas would also be able to rationalise hurting Lavellan (which is why in his mind, turning away from her, breaking her heart, leaving with no explanation and aiding her in Trespasser so she could live whatever few years remained in “relative peace” is actually an act of preserving that love). I partially think the reason he reveals the truth in Trespasser (especially for a romanced Lavellan) is in the hopes his ‘truths’ will push her away. But on a deeper note, I think he also thinks of it as some twisted form of repaying her for loving him to the point that he could have almost forgotten what it was to be the Dread Wolf, to just be with her as Solas, that night at Crestwood. Maybe his harsh truths would push her to the point where she’d give up her love for Solas, now that she knew he was the Dread Wolf, freeing her from the shackles of their love. He’s very self-flagellating, all about self-sacrifice for the ultimate goal, the ends always justify the means, he will endure any pain and punishment as long as Arlathan returns in the end.

What is his love of a mortal compared to the despair and loss of an entire empire? Solas views himself as selfish for falling for her, and that nearly broke him, if he was selfish enough to leave the dream of Arlathan behind for her, what would that do to his spirit then?

In his way of thinking, perhaps telling the Inquisitor the truth is a way out, a rationale they can use to justify stopping him or to make it easier to hate him as the Dread Wolf rather than love him as Solas (someone he hasn’t been in so long).

‘Masking’ as the Dread Wolf

During Trespasser, the Inquisitor has every right to despise Solas after all they’ve learned, and I think he half reveals the truth as a tactic so the Inquisitor can have an excuse to hate him, to be driven to anger and have less pull over his choices, once they learn the truth. Solas is particularly skilled at making other’s play the role that makes his own choices seem inevitable, he orchestrates a lot of events to play out in a manner where it's easier for him to talk himself into bringing down the veil.

He goads Elgar’nan to anger easily. He inspires the spirits to fight for him to the death as a necessary distraction during the war. He absolutely allows the Inquisitor to speak to him one last time so he can offer insight, yes, but also so he can easily frame his actions as just and inevitable. But, Oh boy does he get in for a shock if the Inquisitor shows empathy towards him, it scares him because he’s become accustomed to being seen only as the Dread Wolf. To be understood? That gives way to remorse. And remorse gives way to doubt. And he cannot doubt his purpose, twisted as it is, it is all he has left of his former self. Without it he would most likely change into something different. Someone he doesn’t recognise.

This fear intensifies more so if a romanced Lavellan asks to go with him, and in that case, he takes command and distances himself away (rejecting the help of someone close to him; the chance for a possible betrayal; the chance at another Felassan or Mythal [x]; the chance to twist Lavellan outside of her purpose, in this case, the purpose would be love/empathy) but not without showing remorse at having sacrificed yet another relationship for his crusade.

“Ir abelas.”

Sorrow for what cannot be is at the heart of why the Solavellan romance is so powerful, especially because even though both Solas and Lavellan love each other passionately, love alone cannot be enough when faced with regrets. Love would ultimately be stifled. Corrupted into something else over time. And so, for Solas, having loved and lost tragically is better than having loved and corrupted.

He will not do to Lavellan what was done to him, even if it is her choice, because she knows so little, her naivete cannot close the distance of a millenia’s old sea, and it would hurt him immensely to take advantage of her kind heart [x].

By leaving, he keeps her heart pure. And the yearning! Knowing the love is there, but on its own it cannot be invulnerable to corruption, so it is better to lose it than twist it. Ugh! Him leaving Lavellan is the ultimate show of love! IT IS A WISE DECISION. A rare glimpse into pure wisdom. Which is why he kneels beside Lavellan in Trespasser, he does not “Stand Tall” in the face of Wisdom’s heart. He kneels beside her. And when he stands tall again, he is Solas once more, filled with regret, and once through the eluvian, he returns to masking as the Dread Wolf.

Sidenote: It’s especially confounding that Veilguard allows Rook to push the Inquisitor to save or stop him after you’ve reached act 2 despite your world state choice (I think this was done in case they feared the Inquisitor wouldn’t stand by Solas after everything he was revealed to be responsible for in Veilguard, however it doesn’t work because the Inquisitor wasn’t an advisor, Rook never told them what they learned from the wolf statues, so having a stranger hold the ability to make Lavellan keep her promise or not rings hollow). Personally, I wish the Inquisitor’s presence had more weight in the non-Solavellan endings, too. I wish the Inquisitor could end up being the last friend/former love that Solas destroys (if you don’t collect the wolf statues) which then prompts Rook to fight him because Solas’ last tie to empathy failed to redeem him, that the Inquisitor falling is the last straw and Solas snaps, choosing to be a villain in the hopes of being stopped because he can’t stop himself, and not the ‘I am a God’ ending they gave us. Same for if your Inquisitor vows to stop him. I also wish the Inquisitor was the one to do the wolf statue missions. Would have been a nice secondary protagonist mission like the switching perspectives between Kratos and Atreus in GOW: Ragnarök (the old guard and the new; Inquisitor and Rook). I would have loved if they dedicated more dialogue to Inquisition days too, which is why I think Cole should have been a companion (if he wasn’t recruited, he could simply be a compassion spirit that ‘follows’ the greatest pain in the Fade that yearns to be healed, giving a compassionate viewpoint to Solas’ folly; recruited Spirit Cole could have a greater connection to Solas than even Varric, seeing as Cole was most likely a literal representation of Solas rewriting his own history by preventing a spirit from becoming too ‘real’; Human Cole would have a deeper connection to the world of Thedas, and could have been a great tool to prove how change was inevitable, not always a bad thing, and inevitably out of even Solas’ control. But alas, we live with what we are given! Even Imshael could have served in this role! Spirit/Demon of choice and it wasn’t incorporated into the game that supposedly asks you to make the greatest world-changing choice ever; redeem the Dread Wolf or end the age of the Evanuris entirely?!

Now onto the next segment: I want to talk about Solas’ regrets and how I read the ‘love story’ between Solas and Mythal, and why Lavellan (and what she represented) wasn’t enough to get through to him (and that’s a very believable thing, that’s what makes their love both tragic and epic!).

The High Price of Redemption

A romanced Lavellan has the most agency to see through his guises, if she resolves to save him, but even she cannot undo the shackles that still bind him to Mythal—the binds that twisted Wisdom so far from its purpose it became Pride, even when he burned (Mythal) from his face. (Likewise, A close friend Inquisitor who promises to save him is most likely a parallel to Felassan, again, they cannot undo the shackles of regret either.) I fully believe the vallaslin had a deeper magic than simply marking one as being committed/devoted to an Evanuris, I think it linked them magically, and since Solas was the first to burn the vallaslin away, he probably wasn’t as good at severing the link on himself as he was for other elvhen, so maybe a part of Mythal’s will still lingers in him, twisting him to Pride still.

In Veilguard’s final confrontation, I love the intention of showing how Lavellan approaches Solas slowly, as she doesn’t know who she’ll be faced with up those steps, Dread Wolf or Solas. But when she speaks to him, trying to get him to change his mind yet again, forgiving him for his wrongs, we are reassured that Wisdom hasn’t been completely consumed by Pride despite everything we’ve witnessed in the game because he bows his head at her in reverence as he apologises.

He shows humility towards her. He elevates her and her enduring love as worthy of his respect, but he does not consider himself worthy of hers. Thus, Lavellan pries open the door to acceptance but his heart is still not enough. Which is why love alone cannot turn the tide. He’s too broken to accept it. He doesn’t think he deserves it, so the only way out is through; to continue the ritual, to prove he was right. The shackles persist. Varric’s death weighs on his conscience now more than ever. Possibly members of Rook’s team too if they died on his crusade. But he is vulnerable enough for Morrigan to approach, and now Rook can use Mythal’s essence to make the final push. The only way he could be with Lavellan, the only way he could atone for the past and shed the weight of his armour (his crushing duty to the Elvhenan) is as Wisdom, fully restored, unbound by mistakes.

“Ar lasa mala revas.” He could only find absolution once Mythal (the angered and more brash essence of Mythal, the one unchanged by Flemeth and all the human women’s lives she’s been shaped by, but the closest iteration to that of Mythal in Arlathan, the version that he perceives as having every right to be angry at him for turning his back on her, for not going that last final stretch with her and subsequently, not being by her side when she died) severed the final connection: facing his regrets, showing humility and apologizing, while not taking away the blame but sharing it.

What is Benevolence without Wisdom if not Hubris?

We know Elgar’nan was twisted to Tyranny during the war, and I saw a post somewhere where someone wondered what led to his corruption, and what he was before (leadership/command). Likewise, Mythal was not above corruption.

So far, I’ve seen a lot of takes on Solas’ ties to Mythal, the power dynamic of being a student/disciple enamoured (could be romantic) with the benevolence of Mythal, but not how Mythal’s purpose was possibly also twisted towards hubris the moment she asked Wisdom to turn physical and build weapons from its knowledge, twisting it to Pride. Without Elgar’nan’s tyranny to rally against after the war with the Titans, Mythal would most likely turn a similar route, seeing her ruling as “necessary” for the people: “If not me then who?”. And that is a very short stop and quick drop to “I am your all-powerful ruler, I liberated you, and only I can guide the way”. Benevolence twisted by hubris can easily turn to Tyranny too, only one more subtle, a kind of cultish indoctrination compared to violent subjugation. If Solas had not turned his back on Mythal when she chose to be Evanuris (a god over her people) then they most likely would have made the worst (best) pair in the Evanuris. Pride is the Seventh Deadliest Sin. But imagine Pride next to Godhood?! That is frightening. So, when Solas burns the vallaslin, walks away and works against the Evanuris, I believe that he also inadvertently stops Mythal from becoming a corrupted version of herself. The sorrow at having lost her closest confidant and “love” grounds her, keeps her saintly in Solas’ mind, and in some ways, perhaps saves the Elvhen empire from a worse fate than him erecting the veil to begin with. But neither of them ever consider this. And I think that sort of self-blindness perfectly encapsulates how flawed both Mythal and Solas are. Now onto love.

Solas and Mythal – a Love too complex to simply classify as mortal ‘Love’.

There’s no doubt Mythal and Solas shared a deep bond, one that definitely had love in it, when we hear Mythal calling him ‘love’, without the possessive ‘my’ in front of it, it’s easy to misconstrue what type of love they share. A small nitpick, but like a thorn, it applies sometimes just enough pressure to change a perspective. Not calling Solas “My love” but instead choosing to simply use “love” works within those wonderful ambiguities/complexities that Weekes thrives in.

If one started out as a spirit, it’s safe to say concepts like familial bonds, romantic bonds, and blood ties mean little to nothing. There is no one type of love and there is every kind of love all at once. It is only once physical bodies are introduced, that physical touch, the ability to stab someone in the back, to kiss out of affection, to hug out of empathy, to strike out of anger, that love now becomes this twisted thing too. There are no spirits of love because spirits always possessed love, but there are demons of Desire (Gluttony) and of Rage (love denied).

I believe, from DGL’s acting skills, his soft whisper, his almost submissive smallness in the breadth of Mythal’s already soft voice, that Solas was in love with Mythal, devoted as a student, beguiled by her benevolence, content even in her shadow, and possibly star-struck. He was in love with someone who doesn’t have the possibility to love him back the same, it is not in her nature to love those beneath her in the same intensity that those who look up to her do. It’s like a priest being in love with God. The priest can devote themselves, sacrifice everything, but a God will always love their flock equally, but they can still play favourites.

Benevolence cannot be enamoured with Wisdom because to be truly benevolent they must possess Wisdom but there is also Pride to be had in walking beside benevolence, but they can never be on equal footing. Likewise, Solas’ love is not reciprocated entirely by Mythal, but she does love him back in her own way. While Mythal is definetly Solas’ first love, layered and complex, it is also strangled by regrets and twisted by uneven scales of power. It would never be a nurturing love, only a consuming kind.

When he speaks of Mythal during the Solavellan ending, he calls her his “oldest friend”, much like what Mythal says, (paraphrasing) “would you have me be angry at my oldest companion whose experienced so much with me”. Because friendship is perhaps the easiest way to describe their companionship. They went through many iterations, one certainly holding romantic tensions (specifically from younger Solas), but ultimately, with that much time shared, kinship/friendship becomes the easiest to surmise. You can love your friends, fall in love with them, fall out of love with them, only to love them again, be disappointed in them, etc.

Media today is flushed with romance as a linchpin for driving a hero to make dire choices, and that has warped our perception of how a platonic/non-romance-based relationship can be all-consuming, and sometimes more impassioned than strict romance. But, to make it easier for people to understand Solas’ motivations, it's easier to see their love in the light Taash sees it (an unreliable, somewhat “still juvenile” narrator, in that they are still growing into themselves and their culture and the world): “They were doing it”.

However, Bellara, a companion whose entire companion story is linked to her strong, deeply character-driving relationship with her brother (platonic love) refutes that reading by saying (paraphrasing here): “We don’t know if their ‘love’ is the same type of love we tend to think of in a masculine and feminine relationship.”

Felassan’s letter after the Mythal Dragon fight alludes to Solas having been in love with Mythal, but nothing about how she felt. This is why I consider the Solas/Mythal relationship to be more of a one-sided romantic love, but a requited ‘love’ relationship for them both.

A parallel I find so compelling: Solas and Mythal vs Briala and Celene. Solas and Briala both hold deep emotions for people in great power with the ability to end a tyrannical cycle of subjugation, enslavement and classism, yet for both of these ruler’s charisma and well-meaning intent, they often are swayed to side with tyranny. For Mythal, that was Elgarnan, the Evanuris who made all the other’s worse tyrants; as well as her own hubris for believing her presence alone could dampen the ravenous hunger for power that the rest of the Evanuris held at the small prospect of leading the Elvhen in a time of confusion (being a North Star is hard when all the other lights around you aim to blind the flock into submission). For Celene, this is more about the nuances of retaining favour, pull and power over other noble families, their backing (be it financial, political or simply cut-throat), and their support so she can be the ‘lesser of two evils’ compared to Gaspard’s warmongering personality and Florianne simply being a puppet with no backbone. Both Briala and Solas are turned to pawns despite their immense strength and compassion for their respective elven plights; Briala is rendered a fangless lion (for lack of a better metaphor) if she is reunited with Celene, whereas if she is chosen to puppet Gaspard, there’s every likelihood her story could parallel a ‘power-mad’ Solas if he’d been tethered to Rage (at betrayal) and not Regret (at having not rejected Mythal when she asked him to take a physical body) throughout his tenure as the Dread Wolf.

Solas and Lavellan – a Heart that was never intended to be Given/Taken

Now I will compare the lack of possessives in front of Mythal’s “love” to Solas declaring Lavellan as ‘Vhenan’ and then ‘Ar lath, ma Vhenan’ vs ‘Ar lath ma vhenan'; again, the coma is the thorn, the pause that shapes the quiet unsaid things we can deduce. In the Trespasser cutscene DGL puts the pause after “Ar lath”, even though the subtitles construct the sentence with Vhenan as a proper noun since it’s a nickname often used by Solas: “Ar lath ma, Vhenan”. But I believe Solas actually says “Ar lath, ma Vhenan”.

With “Ar lath, ma Vhenan” the stressor is after the pause, so the line reads: “I love [you], my heart.” And with “Ar lath ma, Vhenan” it makes even less structural sense but can be inferred to mean: “I love you, Heart”.

The possessiveness of “My” is what definitively differentiates the love Solas feels for Lavellan as one more of the romantic side, it is a love of yearning and desire and a wish to have one last good thing that is pure and incorruptible. The one thing he had left to give. His heart. But that does not mean his heart is enough! The rest of him is still bound to the love of Mythal that was twisted through the ages. That changed him. And given how Pride often comes before a fall, I absolutely understand why Solas is actually very brash and ill-considering when he’s romancing Lavellan (“The kiss was ill-considered”/”It would be kinder in the long run”/”I wanted to show you what you mean to me”). He's on a precarious cliff during Inquisition. His first plan failed. He's allowed ancient elvhen magic to fall into a blighted Tevinter magister's hands. Literally everything the Inquisition did could have been for nought if the Mark had fallen to the wrong person. Things could have easily fallen apart for Solas too, so why not indulge in something trifling and fleeting? Execpt it wasn't trifling. Nor was it fleeting. And when he saw that the fall could potentially not happen, that the Inquisitor could do it, save Thedas and retrieve the orb, he was struck by the gravity of his brashness, of letting impulses control him instead of acting according to a plan. But it was too late. They'd both fallen for each other.

Solas didn’t expect to form entanglements within the Inquisition. He was committed. He was angry at the world, “walking through a sea of tranquil”, called flat-ear by the Dalish that later chased him from their village when he proved he was the Dread Wolf. He was despised by people who looked like him. Spirits were constantly being abused and turned into demons. People erected monuments to heroes who slew demons. Mages were caged. Elves were subjugated. The empire fell. Humans razed the lands with their wars and petty squabbles of succession. The darkspawn tainted the land. The dwarves would never dream. Solas awoke to the worst possible fate; in his eyes, it was all his fault.

So when he kisses Lavellan in the Fade, impulsively, he isn’t kissing her there because it is less ‘real’ than if they kissed while she was awake, it makes it so much more real. He’s kissing her in the space where he is most himself. Where he can shed the body he was forced to build and trap himself within, the body of Pride. He is acting on the impulses of an enlivened Wisdom spirit that does not consider tomorrow, for the first time in a long time. It isn’t a long game with Lavellan, like so much of his life has been about always thinking to the future, always considering the outcome, machinating, scheming, the wiles and woes of every trickster god in mythology. It’s being in the moment with her that is all-consuming. It lowers his guard, leaves him vulnerable, and when she enquires about the Fade or spirits or histories, he gets to be useful as pure Wisdom again.

Lavellan challenging him when he first shows animosity or irritation towards the Dalish (a prideful act), and then him being taken aback when she explains that maybe the Dalish could be shown another way (making him consider her words, being given a morsel of wisdom back, reminding him of his old self), these are all small moments where Solas can begin to see springs of hope in the broken world. And that’s terrifying. It means he’s destroying not just himself, but the memory of Mythal and Arlathan too, all for the love of a woman who fell for an apostate.

The best, most genuine unmasking of Solas for me is during Wicked Hearts, when he’s tipsy on wine, has no inhibitions, and revels in the intrigue, the gossip, the dancing, the music (something we now know is important enough to have an entire music room in the Lighthouse), the sex! He is at his most relaxed, and then he asks Lavellan to dance, not caring about how it would look for the “Inquisitor’s serving man, Solas” to be intimate in a fucking Orlesian palace with the Herald of Andraste, right after stopping an assassination attempt! He finds comfort in the world of Thedas at that moment. Something he rarely shows so outright.

When he takes Lavellan to Crestwood to confess, I believe removing her vallaslin wasn’t entirely just for her, it wasn’t just to free her from slave markings or to simply reveal a form of a truth he wanted to tell her, it was to resolve himself of what his first purpose was supposed to be, what she distracted him from. Removing the vallaslin had been something he’d done for the slaves of Arlathan, it was what earned him the mantle of Dread Wolf. When he removes Lavellan’s vallaslin, he resets.

Thedas cannot allow Wisdom to truly exist without fear of corruption to Pride, Thedas the world he was responsible for shaping, literally the Maker of the Veil, and he falls for a woman Heralded as Andraste’s Chosen One, Mythal’s incarnation in the South. The irony. The cruel, cruel irony. The Inquisition is tied to his past, every Andrastian he meets, every Dalish person with vallaslin on their face, every slave or city elf. Tevinter worshiping the dragons that still have the essences of the Old Gods. His heart alone cannot withstand all of the punishing, gruelling, oppressive weight that is Thedas. Even for Lavellan. So he frames their romance as this tragic, short-lived tale that was beautiful but ultimately destined to end. He expects it to pass for her, she’s mortal after all. But he also leaves his heart with her, literally giving her power over the last uncorrupted part of himself. Think Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann at the end of World’s End, but metaphorically. He gives her his heart to safe keep as he goes on a journey that could corrupt a heart, turn it cold and bitter, destroy it.

Ar lasa mala revas. You are free.

He frees his heart.

Lets it go.

Twice!

So only once he is relinquished of his regrets, once Mythal does the same for him, only then is there “Nothing left except their love”. Because Lavellan still held his heart there was still something left after. Something beyond despair and regret and loss. He had given his heart to her to safekeep. And she did. Lavellan returns his heart to him when he is freed. What Mythal had to break so Solas could heal right again (like a bone), Lavellan casts a splint around so it can be set and heal properly. This is the difference between Mythal’s love and Lavellan’s. Both Mythal’s love and forgiveness broke him, but Lavellan’s love gives him the strength to Stand Tall one last time.

Solas, before Pride alone, as Wisdom (perhaps Solas always meant both Standing Tall and Wisdom, for Wisdom can grant one pride to stand tall for what they believe in), finds contentment with the rare and marvellous spirit that endured (his Vhenan). Wisdom endured because of humanity, something benevolence is beyond.

Bellanaris

When Lavellan offers to go with him, to continue on the dinanshiral that she already considers herself a part of, Solas is legitimately taken aback. His expression is soft yet full of disbelief and awe. He actually stops walking a few frames before Lavellan says this, as if hoping Lavellan would say something to him!

And then she basically proposes to him! “Bellanaris!” I absolutely adore the fact that Lavellan promises them eternity. A vow as sacred as a death right, as protected as an ancient, elvhen, undisturbed burial ground in the face of Orlesian colonialisation. They endured and now they will have an eternity. For once, we have an elvish tale that is not a curse, it is a love story with reunion at its core, where both elves reclaim something precious that was denied them.

Lastly, i am absolutely frothing at the mouth that Solas and Lavellan primarily speak in elvish! And even more feral at the fact Solas does not try to talk her out of joining him (because this sweet talker very well could!). He simply tells her where he is going is terrible. And she shuts that shit down immediately. No repeat of Trespasser. She's standing beside him, the South has all but fallen, whatever ties yet survive are strained, and she has fought the good fight for 8 years. I think the Inquisitor was about ready to leave Thedas behind.

The last decisions Solas makes are of his own volition. Entering the Fade for atonement. Stepping into the Fade with Lavellan (It was confirmed by Weekes that Lavellan’s presence in the Fade prison would fundamentally change it in a way we haven’t seen!). Thanking Rook for giving him one last shot at getting happiness. All his own!

This is the look of a man finally reunited with his wife! So much emotion in ONE frame. God! There’s never been a character like him. A love story like theirs! I’m so happy I got to see this ending. Full circle!

P.S. If you read this far, woah nelly! That’s crayyzeee, so here are some more great pieces: Why it was important for Lavellan to kneel for Solas as he knelt for her in Trespasser in the Solavellan ending [x], and here’s a great deep-dive on Solas as a spirit of Wisdom [x].

#dav #dav spoilers #solas #solas x lavellan #solavellan #mythal #datv spoilers #dragon age veilguard #veilguard spoilers #dragon age #dragon age veilguard spoilers #the dread wolf finally took her #his war has ended #their love may endure for eternity

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anundyingfidelity · 1 day ago

Text

HAPPY MISTAKE — Logan Howlett

Summary: Not ever, through all the years of your life, you found someone like Logan. Since he arrived at the school, something brought you together like a magnet. Sadly, not everything came out as you wished it would be. Time is not gentle with mutants, and you try so hard to show him your unconditional love before everything is over, but can you finally accept your feelings for each other? Or yours and Logan's tumultuous relationship through the years.

(PART ONE → PART TWO) | GEN MASTERLIST!

Pairing: Logan x mutant!female!reader.

Word count: 9.6k.

Warnings: slow burn, breaking up(?)/making up, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut and unprotected everything, language, character death, time travel, Logan hurting reader unintentionally, wounds and blood. Logan being a whore for both Jean Grey and the reader. Reader has slow aging as Logan and looks around mid 30s in my head. Anthropology teacher!reader. Reader can manipulate light (just like Starlight from The Boys). This takes place between different movies from the franchise, from X-Men 1 to DoFP, so spoilers of the movies ahead.

Notes: Long time no write. Life is horrible but somehow I managed to get this in like two months. I love Logan so fucking much now you don't have an idea. This was also written with Happy Mistake by Lady Gaga in mind. If you'd like to be tagged in the second part let me know or let me know your thoughts on this, it's very much appreciated! I suffered a lot writing it .

𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.

—

2000

“Need any help?”

Logan stopped on his tracks from wandering around the cozy, yet strange place he woke up in. Turning on his feet, he saw your figure standing in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing, but you approached him as you had known him for a very long time.

“I assume you’re the new guy-”

“Where is she?” Logan abruptly interrupted once you stood inches away from him.

“Rogue? She’s fine. And you need to take a little rest.”

“I don’t need medical attention,” he said, looking around to search for a nearby exit. Before he walked away you took his arm in a soft grip.

He was, as much as you could tell, surprised by your boldness. You gave him no time to process his next movements once you talked again, your voice firm and welcoming in a way he had never felt before.

“Please, you need to meet Professor Xavier,” you said. “At least before you go. It’s totally fine if you wanna leave, I don’t recommend it though, but we can offer you a safe place here. We are just like you.”

Logan’s hardened expression relaxed for a moment, sensing no threat coming from you. All he saw in your eyes wasn’t pity, nor anger at him being kind of an asshole at first. It was just authority, the good kind where he also had something to say and decide about.

“Whatcha say, Logan?”

He was so immersed in his thoughts before you called his name, thinking it sounded beautiful falling off your lips. You gave him a half smile as he took in each detail of your face, as if he was memorizing every part of it.

It was the first time someone had been nice to him and it felt strangely good.

For some reason, it felt very good coming from you.

—

Logan just found out from the Professor’s mouth the mansion was a school for mutants. Gifted people, he called them. After learning another powerful mutant was behind him and Rogue, he had no other choice but accept the shelter. He didn’t like the other guys better, playing the teacher with a bunch of teenagers with special or cursed abilities. But besides Storm and Jean, you were the person who had welcomed him the most, even showing him the place and the room he would stay in.

One late night, you sat at the dining table together. Logan was silently drinking a beer outside school hours so the kids wouldn’t see him, and you, reading a bunch of papers from your students that you were missing. He realized how hard you worked, how you would praise your students, how you talked to them outside classes, being the one to actually convince Rogue to enroll in the school. Immediately, he knew you were really something, having much more in common than he thought. And you, living for so long, being both a mutant and a lady for sure had a hard life through time.

“What you teach again?” he suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence you shared.

“Anthropology,” you answered, giving him a short glance. “I took this at college a long time ago, and I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or two,” you explained, putting away a paper after putting an A+ on it proudly. “It’s important to understand ourselves, humankind and mutants… It’s a diverse world and there are lots of cultures, languages and societies we don’t get to know, but it’s beautiful. I think I like to celebrate what makes us unique. I've had the chance to study some of them around the world since I had the time, y’know, and it’s truly amazing. It’s a shame we have to fight between us to make us heard when we could just be kind and empathetic to each other… Sorry, you didn’t ask but, y’know, anyway.”

You shook your head with a curve on your lips, going back to the next paper. Logan had taken the sparks in your eyes as you talked. He half smiled to himself once you buried yourself in your papers again, thinking you sounded just like Professor Xavier. No wonder why he took you in. Probably, if things were different for him, he would’ve found something that could light his face with so much passion just like you did.

“Been alive for almost two hundred years,” Logan said and you looked up to him. “We might have things about the past to share,” he drank from his beer. It was your turn to smile back at him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve lived both horrible but nice things. Couldn’t read or do math without being called a witch,” you chuckled to yourself, but hiding on the inside the awful experiences you had to endure. “Someday, we could go out and grab a coffee or something,” you said with a playful smile.

A light chuckle left your lips, but you and him knew it wasn’t just a joke.

He joined you with a warm smile that lit up his face before disappearing from his lips. “Of course. Count me in.”

—

The sun was shining bright and the weather was great that morning. Some of the students were in the yard playing, having some quality time, and others simply just left to go to the town. It was a good weekend before the next semester started, and it was better now knowing Magneto had been taken to prison after his failed attempt to use Rogue for his plans.

Sipping on your coffee, you saw the students outside. Laughing, running, having a good breakfast picnic. It felt heartwarming just taking this sight, wishing it would always be like this. Your mindful peace was interrupted when Logan entered the kitchen to have a coffee on his own. Visibly, you tensed just a little when he approached you and sat right in front of you at the dining table. The caffeine was not helping at all, you thought.

“Morning,” he greeted you, noticing something was off on you, but hoping it would pass. Maybe you already knew.

“Morning…” your voice came out as a whisper. “How you feeling?”

“Better. What about you?”

You gave a small nod. “Good, thanks for asking.”

A silence fell upon you. Not like the ones you used to share in lonely nights where you prepared your classes and Logan just sat down calmly because he couldn’t sleep. This time it was different. Words won’t come out of your mouth to ask what was really bothering you. You had grown up to like Logan and enjoy his company, but he had a lot of walls upon him, protecting himself of the world and people around him.

However, you understood why he did it. You both have been alive longer than anyone else. You saw people you love dearly dead, being killed because of your flaws. And you really connected to his idea of protecting people by leaving their side. It was better being away. That was until Professor Xavier recruited you. Here, you had a purpose and you helped young people to become the best versions of themselves. You wished Logan could do the same, stay and see he was more of what he thought of himself, but it wouldn’t happen. Right? He had things to sort out on his own.

“Are you leaving soon?”

When you asked the question, Logan knew you had heard something from the Professor. He gave you a nod.

“I need to reconnect with who I was,” he simply answered.

“Right… Wish you all the best there.”

Logan had grown to like you over the past few weeks you shared, exchanging experiences and lessons of life you had taken through the years. For a moment, he looked right into your eyes and smiled. He weirdly smiled, and you could swear he’d miss you too once he is away.

But that warm feeling soon faded away once Jean walked into the kitchen, saying good morning and beaming to the both of you. Logan followed her with his gaze, straightening himself on his seat as she served her own breakfast and an extra plate that you already knew was for Scott. She also began putting fruits and snacks inside a picnic basket while looking all happy and settled, and you knew why Logan had fallen in love with her. It was all over his face.

And you wondered how could he act and talk to you so kindly and sweet, and then look at Jean like that. It was a pain in your heart you tried to dissipate. Everyone knew Jean and Scott were a couple, and the fact that Logan had a not so secret crush on her really played on you. It made you feel like a fool and you had too many heartbreaks and hurted people, putting them in danger due to your mutation, to take initiative and start a relationship - or anything of the sort - again.

Scott made his way inside the kitchen, saying hi to both of you - mostly you. And took the tray with their plates as Jean grabbed the basket, but she let Scott leave the kitchen before.

“Have a good trip, Logan,” she said kindly. “I hope to see you around here soon.”

“Thank you, Jean.”

She smiled one last time before leaving you all alone, Logan following her with his eyes. Just for a second, you wished he could see you like that underneath his facade.

—

You had packed your stuff later that day, deciding a little air and a change for one night would do no wrong. Just as you were walking to the main door, Rogue was saying her goodbyes to Logan after giving him a small hug without really touching him. It was a cute sight how Rogue was able to step into his cold heart. She said goodbye to you as well before leaving the entrance.

“You’re going away too?” Logan asked, rather surprised as you both walked through the door, the sun hitting your skin as soon as you were out of the mansion. He knew your life was at the school.

“Just for the weekend,” you shrug it off.

Logan gave you a nod with a warm smile. “Then have a good trip and enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks. I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.”

“I hope so too,” Logan answered and before he went to take Scott’s bike, he looked at you hesitantly for a couple of seconds. “We should go out and grab some coffee once I’m back.”

Your lips formed a wide smile. “That sounds really nice.”

For a moment, where time felt like hours and not seconds, you stood right out the door, looking at each other. You wanted him to go first, but he was waiting for you to say something. Probably to ride the bike with him, he could leave you somewhere near your destination and feel you close - just be around you for at least five more minutes. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, you studied his face, looking at his deep eyes, and then his lips - those lips you wanted to kiss so bad before, but never had the courage to do so. You didn’t think further, and if something had taken possession over you, you leaned towards him leaving a short, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Take care,” you mumbled once you pulled away.

Not waiting for his answer, you turned back, pulling your bag to your side stronger than ever and walked the path to the front gates, feeling his gaze all over you until you left the mansion.

He felt such an idiot for not kissing you properly.

—

2003

‘I know what I want, but what do you want?’

Mystique’s words echoed through his head. Logan left the tent so long ago he didn’t know what time it was anymore and the situation kept repeating again and again in his mind. The woman had shifted between Jean, Ororo, and you. The one that icked him the most being Rogue once Mystique had taken her figure in. Storm was a good colleague, Jean was a forbidden love, Rogue was like his little sister, someone he would protect as long as he could, and you… you were a different case. When Mystique was about to kiss him wearing your figure, he finally realized he started feeling things he had prohibited himself for a very long time, and he thought he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Once or twice you shared experiences about love and partners, but he could tell it hurted you the same way as him. He couldn’t burden breaking your heart, or worse, getting you hurt because of what he was. Logan knew you had the same bad luck in the past, but it didn’t stop any of you to pull towards each other like a magnet.

‘Living for so long does things to you, Logan. I feel we become more aware of what we are.’

Those words you said to him one time remained in his head like a warning, and he took it personally.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against a hard tree trunk some feet away from the tents where the rest of the X-Men rested. He tried to find some peace alone for a few moments when the sounds of steps approaching alerted his senses. Claws out and ready to attack, he spun around the trunk only to stop in a second.

There you were, a bright light emanating from your hand to illuminate your path in the darkness of the woods.

“Logan?”

Quickly, he withdrew his claws and his body relaxed visibly. “Sorry,” he apologized, leaning against the tree one more time.

“Are you okay?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. The exhausted sigh he let out told you everything you needed. You let the soft glow of light floating between you and him, to illuminate both of you under the branches. “You wanna talk?”

He slowly shook his head, mumbling ‘no’. He became startled in the light floating like a firefly, letting his own issues wash away with your sole company. Ironically, everything that was troubling him was you. Softly, you caressed his arm, taking him out of his own thoughts. Your touch didn’t help his poor mind either.

Looking worried about the next mission in Lake Alkali, you feared for him and your team. And your lack of sleep was showing it. But just like Logan, the growing feelings were troubling your head. You had seen him talking with Jean earlier when you landed in the forest - talking too close to your liking once he pulled her for a kiss. But what could you do? Logan was still after Jean even when she had already declined him countless of times, and it didn’t really hurt you. It just felt strange inside. Why would he do that while still being nice to you, quitting being a dick when he wanted because he knew you’d snap back at him. And to be honest, Logan looked as if he liked that about you. But he won’t admit it out loud, and of course, you wouldn’t ask. Men were so damn complicated.

“Well, I only expect things to not get worse…” you finally said in a soft whisper since he wasn’t talking and you stopped your head going further on the matter. And you knew he wouldn’t talk soon either. “And you’re brave for seeking your past.”

Logan locked his eyes with your own, under the soft light. Your tired gaze, your figure, your aura pulling him like he found a treasure in an abandoned cave… He felt so bad for falling for someone like you, who was nothing compared to the crap he was. And then, for the first time in years, he decided to follow his instinct with you.

He leaned towards your figure, his rough hand cupping your cheek gently before pulling you in for a kiss. With a soft sigh you corresponded, your arms around his neck as it turned deeper and harsher. Logan lifted you easily from the ground, your legs tangling around his waist until you felt your back against a rough surface, trapped between the trunk and his body. Soft moans and grunts mingled, your chest pressing against his own, his hips grinding against your crotch. It was obvious you wanted this. Logan desired you so painfully after that day you kissed him goodbye at the mansion, he needed your body and soul. But you had to have answers before giving into the heat of the moment.

Pulling away, you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his own as you tried to catch your breath. Logan tried to taste you once again, but you placed two of your fingers on his swollen lips.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

He remained silent, brows furrowed and eyes blown in lust. You didn’t make any effort to pull him away. He still had you between his legs, asking a simple question he had no response for.

“We’re adults here, Logan. Just wanna know why before we go further.”

Logan started to remember. He vividly heard Jean and Mystique voicing out and asking the right question.

‘Girls flirt with the bad guy. They take the good guy home.’

‘What do you want?’

“Do you really want me?” he asked in return.

You lifted an eyebrow at his sudden question. “And do you?”

He leaned again for a kiss on your lips, and thankfully for him, you didn’t stop it. But he quickly pulled away and inhaled your sweet scent from the skin on your neck, leaving a path of soft pecks, until he nipped the shell of your ear softly. You shivered under his touch.

“I’d love to have you,” he whispered, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Come to my tent,” you mumbled. “Sleep with me. But like, seriously, sleep with me ‘cause I’m tired,” you chuckled, hoping to not kill the mood.

Logan smiled for a bit and nodded, pecking your lips one more time before helping you get on your feet on the muddy ground, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

“As long as I have you by my side it’s alright with me.”

—

Jean’s death was hard to swallow.

For weeks, students and teachers mourned her, and you felt sorry for Scott for losing his soulmate. Logan was not in the best shape either. He didn’t attend her funeral, he never had the guts to stand by her grave either, until now. You stopped right behind him and noticed him sighing, under the afternoon sunset. He was tense because of everything, but when you took his hand out of the pocket of his jacket, he held onto you. Your fingers intertwined together, feeling his life depending solely on you, like a rock he needed to support his whole weight.

The day was about to end, the sun slowly hiding, giving a beautiful painting of orange and purple in the sky. You thought it would soon become an intense thunderstorm due to Ororo’s mourn - something you had gotten used to the last few days.

“She saved us,” Logan barely mumbled, looking intensely at the grave.

You nodded, even if he could not see you. “Can’t blame her, I’d have done the same.”

Those words cause him to look back at you, wishing it’d be a lie. But inside, Logan knew you really had the guts to sacrifice yourself for others. It was something he remembered both of you talking about some time ago. And you would give everything in your hands to save the ones you love.

Quietly, Logan gave a last glance at Jean’s grave, and guided you inside the mansion. Classes barely started again due to the circumstances and a few kids could be seen around the halls. You accompanied him to the doors of his room, noticing you had been holding hands the whole time. Probably no one really cared, they were too busy trying to go through the grief of losing a loved one. Slowly, you broke the gesture, taking your hand away and Logan immediately missed the heat and comfort of your hand.

“Do you need anything?” you asked in a low voice.

Looking at you, Logan reminisced how you kissed in the woods, the need and lust for each other that couldn’t be. He did sleep in your tent that night, in the comfort of your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin. It was, probably, the first time he had a good, peaceful night of sleep in years. No one had brought that up, but he knew something was there. And he needed to act on it before it was too late.

So he brought up his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before planting a kiss on your lips, not caring he was standing in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see what was going on. You leaned against his touch, deepening the kiss until you couldn’t catch a breath. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead into yours, taking in the beauty of your bright eyes and swollen lips. Everything wandering his mind, making a path right into his cold heart was right in front of him.

“You.”

—

Knocking Professor Xavier's door, you walked inside as soon as his voice announced to come in. You caught your breath seeing Logan by his desk. He just gave you a quick, accomplice glimpse and left the room, closing the door behind. The exchange of glances wasn’t unnoticed by Charles.

“Here’s the report on my subject for this last semester, Professor,” you announced, leaving the folder on the wooden desk.

“Thank you. How’s Logan doing?” he asked all of a sudden, checking the door the man had crossed just seconds ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you believe he is comfortable helping the kids?” the old man asked again. He was seeing right through you, and you kind of hated every time he used to do that to you. Nothing could be hidden from Xavier; definitely you couldn’t hide a single thing for the man who took you in decades ago.

“Why would I know that?”

He shrugged it off. “Well, you seem very close lately.”

Close was not the best word to describe your relationship with Logan. Yet, you were sleeping on his bed just the night before. The trace of his kisses, the burn of his beard on your skin, his teeth biting softly your breasts, his rough hands all over your hips… Every touch he left on your body you could still feel it, and you wanted to think he was not just using you. During the past weeks, you were together. Not quite a relationship-thing was established properly, but it was the closest thing any of you could have as for now.

It was a mixture of grief, pain, and hope that had you both still standing. In the end, you understood what he felt. Being alone and alive for so long and then finding a place where people accepted you for who you were was a whole change, even if some years passed by. Though, the time Logan had been spending at the school was nothing but a blink of an eye compared to his past.

“What happened to our team is still affecting us,” you finally said. “I believe we are good friends, yes, we’ve been supporting each other. And he doesn’t know how to deal with the students yet most of the time, but I try to walk him through it.”

Xavier hummed, smiling at the corner of his lips as he eyed the folder you handed him. “I bet you both do.Thanks for bringing your report on time, as always, and I apologize if I am being intrusive. Just please be careful with the noises both of you make at night, we have kids around here.”

Shit.

You swallowed your pride right there and simply gave a nod, feeling the heat burning up your face.

“Will do, Professor.”

—

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you held for dear life on his broad shoulders, hips snapping against your own. His pace was reckless, keeping you on the edge of sin. Grunts mixed with sweet moans, skin hitting skin again and again every time you felt his cock inside you. If possible, your nails could have already left visible scars and marks on his back, scratching and bleeding off his skin as he fucked you senseless.

Logan sucked on the bare skin on your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling your walls clenching around his girth, his hands roughly grabbing the sides of your hips as you moaned his name, over and over, under the moonlight. He looked at you intensely with loving eyes when you came underneath him, eyes flashing that familiar bright light every time a powerful orgasm hit your body. The vulnerable sight of your figure shaking, eyes closing slowly and biting your lip to keep the pretty noises low, made him reach the sweetest high.

With a grunt, he leaned to attack your lips in a heated, wet kiss to moan against your mouth. Logan pulled back to press butterfly kisses on your jaw, until he reached your breasts, feeling himself soften inside your wet heat. His hips were still thrusting just enough to fill you up at a gentle rhythm. Marking you his and only his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your chest. “Remind me why we’re here again.”

You chuckled softly, fingers tangling on his disheveled hair. You just had prepared a small date night out at the shores of a beautiful lake in the woods. No one could bother you if you were alone, and since your relationship was not so secret anymore, you needed him in a place that wasn’t the school. So here you were, laying on your back, fully naked on the picnic blanket, with the Wolverine between your legs, enjoying the calmness of the water, the green grass, the crickets singing around, and the cold of the night.

“Privacy perhaps?” you whispered as his eyes locked on yours.

Softly you touched his cheek with the palm of your hand and he rolled both of you over, until you laid on top of him, legs straddling his waist and your arms on his shoulders to sit on his lap. Silence took over, his hands soothing your hips and the marks he left on your body from the intense love-making.

“I’m so happy we took a couple of days off…”

You waited for Logan to say something. Anything. You wanted to continue, to tell him how you really felt. Instead, you decided it was better leaving it like this. Logan gave you a nod, pulling you for a short kiss.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He wanted to say it out loud, but was too scared to do so.

—

2006

After a couple of long years, the school and the team had to learn how to go through the grief and pain Jean left. Logan had a hard time processing it, just like all your teammates, specially Scott, and of course the students. It didn’t stop you from moving on as time went by though, always remembering her for the great person and mind she was. Going forward and keeping fighting is what she would’ve wanted for everyone, even now that a certain cure for mutants was announced to the public.

You tried to continue your life as a professor at the school, training students, leading young people, and you invited and encouraged Logan to do so countless times. Deep inside, you wished it was you the reason why Logan decided to stay and train young mutants - for you to be the answer to his loneliness. That he knew, for once and all, that he was not alone. You got each other, and you could do something about it. Words unspoken said more than anything, at least you thought so.

It was one of those rare nights where you got some time for yourselves, walking around the city after having a nice and calm dinner. Your shoulders brushed against each other while you walked downtown, your hands hiding inside the pockets of your jacket, protecting them from the cold.

There was a lot on your mind lately, thinking about what you two really were. If there was a stronger feeling in between, or if it was solely because he enjoyed your company and that was it. Both had lived enough to know there was a feeling in the middle. It wasn’t just friends with benefits, or co-workers who sleep together three times a week. Something was blooming deep inside you, but you tried to not give it a lot of attention all those years. Still, it felt like it had to be addressed sooner or later, and this could be the time. In the end, you understood each other perfectly. How painful it was, how living longer than anyone was, how you had to leave everything and everyone behind because you were dangerous…

“Have you ever wondered how’d it feel to have a normal life?” your question came out all of the sudden.

“How come?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t know if his gaze was judging you but you continued anyway.

“Like living a normal amount of years… Not having these things, genes that make us different. Or special…”

Logan suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed your arm softly so you could lock eyes together as he asked. “You’re not thinking of getting that damn cure, aren’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why’d you think that?”

“Because I never had anyone in my life, Logan,” you spat, pulling your arm away from his grip. “I’ve been alive for so long but I can’t promise myself a future. A real one. Not anything, it doesn’t matter if I live forever. Every person I loved before perished.”

Those words shook him out of the rough façade showing on his face. Your gaze told a hundred different stories when he studied your face every time. It was like mirroring himself at some point. You were the first person he ever got to know that has lived as long as he has, and maybe it was the sentimentalism, but he tried to push away those wishes of settling down. Of trying to be normal. Because he was not, and maybe, just maybe, you just didn’t accept it like he did. Probably, he was just giving up. But you weren’t, even after hundreds of years of disgrace continuously happening.

“I thought you’d get this, Logan.”

You mumbled, taking him out of his trance.

“Well, I do, in a way,” he said, but sounded more like an excuse for himself.

“Then why don’t you say it?”

“Wha-”

“Just say it,” you repeated and pointed between you and him. “What is this for you? What are we?”

Logan grabbed on your shoulders gently and leaned towards you, stealing a kiss on the sidewalk, a kiss you obliged with a bittersweet feeling for some reason, but then he whispered. “Darling, you’re everything to me now.”

Yet, you smiled and kissed him back, feeling his lips curve against your own. Well, that wasn’t so hard was it?

—

Needless to say, after the last date, your relationship with Logan had evolved to something more domestic, considering you lived together in your workplace. Affection, holding hands, quick kisses were shared now a little more freely, and you had received a couple of jokes and teases from some students and Storm. But it was fine as long as you had cleared your path with Logan, even if he didn’t act like a partner sometimes.

The certain calmness you felt one day disappeared when Logan and Ororo went to look for Scott, who often had these sad thoughts, and since Jean was his partner, it was thoroughly complicated for him to say the least. When Logan and Ororo came back to the mansion, it was not what you expected to see. Jean was alive and Scott was gone.

It hurted you, knowing first hand that their love wouldn’t be anymore. You met both of them when they were so young, becoming something like their mentor when they used to learn how to control their powers and how to fit in this world that loathed mutants to death. Now, the school was something else. It was a big, special place that was not the same without the brains of Jean, or the enthusiasm and leadership of Scott. Things were different, they had to change because the circumstances told so, and everyone had a difficult time adapting to it. One thing after another left you tired, with no option to run away, even if you wanted to. The complicated circumstances and the relationship you shared with Logan were no help either.

While on your way to check on Jean, who was still under observation after a couple of days, you stopped in your tracks when the heavy door of the med bay slid. Logan, looking all out of his daily self and mad, found you at the entrance, and you felt something different emanating from him.

For what you could see behind him, Jean was still asleep, and the Professor called Logan to come back with a serious voice, but he ignored the older man, instead approaching you.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Logan grasped your arm, his tone lower and deeper than usual.

You quickly pulled off his grip and hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“Jean.”

You felt silent. Of course she was anything he could think of since they found her.

“You knew he was controlling her,” Logan went on and your heart skipped a beat.

The look in your eyes told everything but lies. Logan scoffed and walked away, leaving you standing alone under Professor Xavier’s gaze.

“I’ll talk to him,” you mumbled at your mentor before following Logan, trying to keep his pace until he reached his room.

The whole way you tried to keep it professional, greeting students as normally you would, but when you crossed his door it was impossible to continue with the facade.

“Logan-”

“He’s insane,” he snapped, putting his jacket on and taking his bag out.

“Everything that was done was meant to protect her,” you responded calmly as he placed a handful of clothes inside the bag.

“No, you did it because you are disgusting. I bet this is what should’ve been for me if I refused to cooperate with your circus or something.”

“You don’t know what she is capable of-”

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it anymore. This is so fucked up, even for you,” he continued, bag on his hand taking long strides until you were almost touching noses.

You scoffed, trying to laugh at the irony. “What does that even mean? Do you know how horrible it is to be controlled by the Phoenix inside her?.”

Logan rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another poor excuse. You continued anyway, looking straight in his eyes before he could leave you hanging with your own words. Exactly like he used to do every damn time when you had an argument. Today, he wouldn’t run away that fast.

“She could kill you in a second and won’t hesitate. For her, we’re nothing. We’re not rivals, we can’t do shit. The only thing we could do was keep her alter ego somewhere hiding inside her mind, or else we wouldn’t be here arguing about something you never witnessed. Because I did and you don’t wanna see that, trust me,” you spat at him. He breathed rage at your words and you knew that it was getting on his nerves seeing the way his hands turned to fists. “And you think this version of her cares for you? Or that she loves you? Jean is gone now, Logan, fucking get over it.”

With last harsh words, you turned around and left the room, closing the door with a thud.

Logan breathed out. He wanted to scream, hit something, run away… Anything to let it out. He was a reckless mess but how could he react and accept Charles was playing with Jean’s mind? And you fucking knew all this time and didn’t say anything? Were his feelings dirty on him right now? Probably. Shit, he took years to finally tell you the truth about his love and affection towards you. He spent months trying to find the right words just to say ‘I love you’, and still, it seemed it wasn’t enough. The forbidden love he felt for Jean never disappeared, and he felt guilty for it.

—

You walked down to the med bay after calming down for a bit. You only needed to check on Jean for a moment and see how she was doing. Years prior, you had witnessed what the Phoenix was capable of, so you didn’t really question Charles’ methods when it came to hide this dangerous side of her inside her mind. You also thought your words might have been a little harsh on Logan, but it was the truth. He didn’t know who the Phoenix was and, if his feelings for Jean resurfaced after believing her being dead, then it wasn’t on you. As much as you loved him, as much as you tried and somehow managed to move on together, he was so easily dragged to her.

The anger you felt before took over you once again, as you found the metal doors of the lab in debris. Quickly, you made your way inside the room and found Jean wasn’t there and that Logan was lying unconscious on the floor. You knelt down by his side, calling him over and over and touching his face and shaking his shoulders until he finally opened his eyes slowly, coming back to reality.

“Logan, what happened?”

“She… she killed Scott. The Phoenix,” he whispered. You could tell he was a little weak and out of breath.

“You’re lucky she just ran away,” you pointed out, helping him to sit down. His eyes were lost in the mess in the room. Tools were destroyed, test tubes broken, crystal was everywhere, and Jean left the reminder of kissing him, yet again, before she escaped. God, he felt so idiotic.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking at you. “Sorry for being a jerk. It’s my fault.”

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her.”

“Come here, we need to alert Charles,” you said, helping him to stand up.

Inside, you knew he wouldn’t really need your help. He was strong and indestructible like the metal on his skull, but he seemed really taken back, and you decided to stay by his side, holding his hand strongly as a way to say sorry as well. It was kind of difficult to see Logan in that state of mind, confused and lost, and you wondered what had happened back there in the lab as you left him in his bedroom, ordering him to rest for a while.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him with loving eyes.

Logan nodded, following your figure stepping out the room and disappearing in the hallway.

He let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. His mind was having a hard time and his heart felt like breaking, going in two opposite directions, and he hated himself for that. His fate was always the same: losing people he loved and cared for dearly. So seeing Jean back again was as if god or anything up there remembered he existed and brought her back just for him. Or maybe he was just being selfish because he already had you.

You were everything for him. A couple of years might be just a short glimpse for both of you, but he was able to feel peace and calm next to you, and he was sure you did as well. Because some nights, that was all you could talk about. Logan didn’t mind hearing you for hours, it reminded him he was alive. With you, but his stupid instinct had to act.

It was his fault Jean had left. The kiss, the whole act of embracing each other’s bodies for at least two minutes, and then her breakdown, begging for him to kill her… All of that was enough to bring out the beast inside her. And he felt such a jerk now for following his desires. He already had you. Wasn’t that enough?

His thoughts were interrupted once you arrived again, finding him sitting at the end of the bed exactly as you had left him there. Sensing something different on him, you sat down by his side and rubbed his hand gently.

“We might know where she’s going,” you whispered.

“I’ll go,” Logan said before you could finish.

“I’m not sure if I should ask, but are you okay? You could do some rest,” you suggested, since seeing the redhead was clearly getting some kind of reaction from him.

“No, I need to go,” he said. But Logan could read your face perfectly, and he knew you didn’t really like the idea of him leaving the mansion. You turned your eyes, scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.

You had the need to ask what exactly had happened back there with Jean, but you didn’t want to start a fight either. Feeling Logan’s hand on your shoulder, he leaned to kiss your forehead goodbye. Maybe you were the one who should stay, check the kids, the school…

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, voice low and deep, as if trying to convince you, but himself as well. You nodded with your arms around his neck, giving him a hug that felt like some sort of apology you weren’t able to say out loud. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

And how you’d wish things would be fine.

—

The school has been very quiet lately. Too silent even for his taste. At nights like these, he could still feel the vigor and presence of the students running around, grabbing something to eat, planning to go out for a while... Instead, Logan found himself in a place that was mourning. Grieving the loss of Jean, Scott and Charles.

The feelings inside were complicated. He didn’t really feel the same, and the disgrace and remorse of his actions were growing on him. They were still haunting him; every day, every single night. You knew it too. It was impossible to ignore the nightmares each time he woke up from seeing Jean’s lifeless body fall against his own after he gave what she wished for the most: death.

And then, there was you. He noticed how difficult it was getting for you to sleep. You tried to hide your sorrow into your work, studying even more, keeping yourself busy with the school and not thinking about anything else. Since Charles was gone, Ororo took his place and you were her second hand. But you pushed yourself too hard.

Tonight he found your bedroom empty. He didn’t find you on his either, so he went to the place he knew you would be: your classroom. The door was half opened, the dim light of the lamp on your desk barely illuminated the papers on the surface. He found you deeply concentrated reading on something, hands on the sides of your head hiding your face.

“Hey,” he softly mumbled, stepping inside the empty classroom.

You quickly straightened yourself on the chair, wiping your cheeks and tried to look decent for a moment.

“Hey,” you replied back, low voice.

“Come to bed,” he said, coming to stand before you, his hand on your shoulder comforting and soothing you, making its way to the side of your neck. His big palm on your cheek, caressing the skin stained with your tears as if it was the most delicate thing. He took a look at the mess of papers and old books you loved too much to get rid of, scattered on the wooden surface.

“No, I- I can’t. Need to finish these by tomorrow…”

Logan gave you a nod and a grimace before taking your hand, motioning to come closer. You stood up, knowing he was trying to get you out of the work that was consuming you.

He observed every feature on your face, the sadness in your stare couldn’t be hidden. He just knew you too well, just like the palm of his hand, and he wanted to make you forget. At least for a little. You had taken care of him, helped him with your presence and your unique aura, bringing him comfort and peace to his broken mind. He wanted you to be fine. To feel loved.

Logan leaned just exactly to brush his lips with your own, teasing a kiss that he longed too much, his hands around your waist pulling you towards him.

“Can you just let me take care of you?”

Swallowing hard the knot on your throat, you curled your lips as much as the grief let you. “Yes,” you nodded.

With this, Logan leaned until your lips connected. Your arms around his neck pulled him as closer as you could get, feeling his chest against your own, his strong hands around your waist, softly touching you above your clothes.

Logan slowly walked you until your back hit the desk, hands roaming on your ass down to your legs, placing you to sit down over the loose pages. It might ruin the work a little, but none of you cared. Everything in your head was him, between your legs, running his wet mouth down your jaw, his stubble burning your skin as you gasped gently. Lying on your back on the desk, he began descending down your breasts, unbuttoning your blouse until he exposed you to the cold of the room.

He stopped right on your trousers, and gave you a quick glance. You were so eager, wet already. He could sense it. Your eyes were glowing and you were already trying to catch your breath by just his kisses and touch.

“You locked the door?” you whispered.

“Damn right I did,” he voiced, hoarse and low voice from just thinking of railing you right there and then.

“Then don’t stop.”

At your command, he unzipped your trousers, letting them fall down along with your heels on the floor. He then leaned to take your lips in a sloppy kiss, more urgent this time of feeling you close. You moaned, nails scratching his skin. His calloused hands explored your bare legs and things, creating friction with his hips with slow, controlled thrusts against your crotch. Logan left a trail of kisses down to your breasts, licking and tasting the saltiness of your body.

You urged him to go down where you ached the most, hand tangling on his hair. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading to him until his nose was almost buried on your panties, smelling and taking the sweetness of your scent, licking softly with his wet tongue over the fabric. A trail of moans and curses left your lips. He pulled your panties aside before diving in your pussy, licking your folds and teasing your hole with two of his fingers.

“Logan…”

His name repeatedly left your mouth like a plea, his fingers now inside you, stretching your walls for him. The noises grew obscene and nasty as he ate you out like a sweet craving he had been denying himself the pleasure for so long.

He was growing hard just by hearing your whimpers, and he needed you. You always were a fucking longing for him. Your words, your intelligence, your beauty… Everything he needed, you had it. And still, he didn’t have any idea of how such a rational, smart woman like you learned to love him so deeply.

You tugged on his hair, hips thrusting up to meet his growling mouth. You were so close, felt almost there where you wanted, but he pulled away before you finished.

Logan unzipped his jeans leaning back, admiring your blissed out eyes and glistened figure.

“Come here,” you begged in a whisper, tangling your legs around his waist.

He let out a low, dirty chuckle, feeling your hands on his boxers, freeing his erection.

“So fucking eager,” Logan breathed kissing your lips, hands supporting his weight at the sides of your head on the desk.

You tasted yourself within the kiss and you moaned at his words, your hand pumped him just enough to feel his pre cum leaking already, lining his dick with your cunt. Inch by inch, he entered slowly so you could get used to his size. Logan pecked your lips gently, kissing your cheeks and the side of your neck to get into your sensitive skin. You tugged on his white shirt so he could remove it and he ripped your bra apart right after. He loved to feel your chest pressed against his own. You gasped but paid no mind, instead urging him to move inside you.

“Shit, Logan please-”

A particular harsh trust caught your breath on your throat. You held onto dear life with your hands on his shoulders. He pounded into you rock hard and deep. So damn deep the desk was shrieking under, papers fell off and the lamp moved at the same rhythm but you hoped it won’t break.

Logan growled, inhaling your scent and tasting the sweat forming on your collarbone, your breasts bouncing against his chest. He felt your nails trailing down his back, and oh, how he wished he could get damn scars on just by fucking you like this. But the view of you, squirming under him, eyes closed, being a whimpering mess… All because of him. He was so insanely in love with your fucked out expression every time.

Your walls clenched, close to the sweet end. Logan felt himself twitching inside your warm pussy and his thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy. He filled you up, reaching his own climax first, hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Your pussy milked him all the way as he kept spliting you open until you let yourself go, legs trembling around his waist.

For a moment, you stayed like this, with him kissing your shoulder and caressing your thigh, taking in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

“Thank you…”

Your whisper forced him to look up at you. There it was, that loving, sweet gaze you had reserved just for him.

He nodded, palm on your jaw holding you gently. “Of course…”

For some reason, he wanted to voice out for once those stupid three words.

I love you.

Or at least hoped you would do it first.

—

The night was cold under the moonlight, almost freezing. He wondered how he got trapped there, between the messy, withered shrubbery, fog, and the trees of a forest he never recalled knowing. He was alert, senses to the limit in case something might attack him. He felt as if he was being watched, but there were no eyes he could find around. He couldn’t see much like that.

But then a voice started to call his name from afar, claws coming out immediately as he sharpened his senses to find the owner. One, two, three times he heard, trying to find the person who was calling but there was only darkness. His heart skipped a beat when someone spoke behind him.

“Logan…”

He turned on his feet and he felt like dying again. “Jean?”

He withdrew his claws back immediately. The redhead smiled, coming closer until she touched his cheek with a soft hand before pulling away. “How are you, Logan?”

“What-”

“Are you happy now?” she asked, beaming brightly as if they were in a casual conversation instead of the darkness of the woods.

His brows furrowed. She couldn’t be real. She wasn’t there with him. Jean was gone, he had killed her because it was what she wanted. It was her way out to get what she needed; it was the key to her freedom…

“What do you mean?”

“With her… Be careful. You could kill her. Just like me,” Jean whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Logan stepped back, trying to get away. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing exactly why Jean was saying this to him.

“No… You’re not real…”

“Everything you love is destined to death and chaos, Logan. You shouldn’t be there,” Jean continued, her eyes switching from her usual tone to a deep black. The ground began trembling under their feet with each step of her, wind building up around. Logan felt truly scared, but somehow he couldn’t run, just stand there as she approached. “All she will know is a life of suffering if you stay. She doesn’t need that.”

“Jean-”

“She doesn’t need you!”

“Jean!”

And then it happened so fast. His claws buried on her chest, the Phoenix disappearing and leaving her to die. Jean collapsed against his body and Logan reminisced about the events of that battle, where he had to choose to be selfish or liberate her from her own demons. Logan wasn’t sure why he stabbed her like this. And when he thought Jean was dead in his arms, she started to call his name again. This time, he heard it far away.

Logan.

Logan…

Logan!

His eyes went wide open. And there you were, by his side on the bed, calling for him with a pain grimace on your face. His claws buried on your stomach.

“Logan…” you gasped and he pulled the claws out, but you were already bleeding, your nightshirt and the mattress stained.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- I-”

“It’s okay,” you managed to say as he caressed your cheek before taking you in his arms hurriedly and quickly made the way out of your room through the halls. “The nightmares… I know, Logan…”

“God, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Hank!” Logan stood outside the scientist’s door. “Hank, I need your help!”

The commotion caused some of the students to peek from their doors, and Logan waited outside what he felt it was forever under the gazes of the teenagers. It wasn’t the first time he had caused the same accident. The door opened, finally revealing a sleepy Hank putting his glasses on.

There was no need to explain what had happened.

—

“She’ll be stable soon,” Hank informed once he let Logan inside the med bay. “If you hadn’t brought her soon…”

Logan swallowed the knot on his throat, watching your unconscious figure on the stretcher. You already had received blood to cover up what you lost because of the wounds, and Logan’s claws were not minor weapons. His mind was a mess, confusion taking over. He didn’t know how he let this happen. He had nightmares pretty often, yes, but nothing like this.

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe she was trying to warn him about something. Or Jean was just trying to protect you from him. The last one felt more realistic. Logan wouldn’t hurt you, not ever. You talked about how dangerous it was to sleep together not so long ago, but you had insisted on staying. It was the first time something felt so damn real in his dreams and he wished you wouldn’t let him in your room that night…

“She’ll wake up, right?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely,” Hank nodded. “I will need to monitor her vital signs though, hopefully within a day or two she will be normal again… At least she’ll be stable until the wounds heal completely.”

Of course, Logan thought. You didn’t have a healing factor just like him.

“I’ll be right back,” Hank announced before stepping out of the room, leaving Logan alone.

He felt so guilty for doing this to you. For everything. For being the cause of your suffering now. He was a threat and mentally unstable. He was strong thanks to his genes, but he was weak on the inside. He promised countless times to protect you, but he couldn’t avoid hurting you himself. It didn’t matter that it was a very bad dream that felt disgustingly real, he had failed and hurted someone who truly loved. Again.

Taking your hand gently into his, he leaned to plant a kiss on your forehead, wishing it would be just another game from his mind.

But it wasn’t. Now, he had the person he loved the most lying unconscious and hurted because he would let his darkest thoughts consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching you sleep peacefully. “I should have said it sooner.”

PART TWO

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #logan howlett x female reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #logan howlett angst #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine angst #james logan howlett #x men fanfiction

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foreverisntenough · 15 hours ago

Text

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 6 - Your Brother | ‘Movie Night'

Even though things were ‘good’ you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about what you and Trent were doing. He was in and out of town so often for football it was hard to know what was happening. So, in the midst of flickering doubts, you had decided you would try to create some self-imposed distance to keep your heart safe. You’d gotten to a place where yes… you were sending nudes, videos of you in bed which in itself maybe wasn’t the smartest but it was happening, you were enjoying it in fact. But enjoyment couldn’t mask apprehension. Still, you were keeping everything just on the phone. Keeping everything hush, not even Layla knew how deep things were getting. And while this digital relationship was blossoming, you were keeping the public one that existed in front of everyone’s eyes at an arm's length. And it hurt to be living what felt like a double life. You two clearly had no self control and that was evident in the text exchanges so keeping your distance felt smart. With all of that in mind, you hadn’t expected to see Trent at your door this afternoon, let alone embracing you in a cuddle so warm it felt like he hadn’t seen you in ages when it’d been mere days. You stiffened at first, taken by surprise, but quickly melted into him. As much as you tried to pretend you shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t do this with him, you yearned for this very thing; the physical connection you were trying so hard to keep at bay. You tried to believe that space was the best thing to do to keep yourself safe but the second his arms wrapped around you… the world melted along with you. Memories of him flooding you. It was like he had your heart before you couldn’t even try to stop him from grabbing it. You were powerless and you loved being weak for him.

“You’re back home.” Your voice was muffled against his skin in the embrace of the hug. He hummed, squeezing you that much tighter. Just as you began to pull back, his grin widened cheekily.

“Can you wait here f’me? I got something for you.” Before you could respond, He smiled as he darted back out to his car, leaving you standing there, curiosity building, warmth flooding you. When he returned, he was holding a stunning bouquet, petals in shades of blush and deep red.

“I don’t play footie in the park anymore so I thought you deserve more than a daisy.” He smiled earnestly with a glint in his eyes that almost looked scared. Trent was still grappling with how to show you just how much he cared. He was worried about Jack, sure, but keeping things hush didn’t feel so bad at the minute as long as he showed you he cared. He was looking for that sweet spot of past and present. And so began another attempt. You couldn’t help the way your cheeks flushed as you took the flowers, turning them in your hands, admiring every detail. But Trent wasn’t done. “Pretty girl…” He cooed gently to grab you attention off the floral arrangement and back to him. He smirked holding two more bags. You raised your brow with a smile you couldn’t contain anymore. He handed you a sleek Dior shopping bag, his words tumbling out in a rush. “You know like… I was in just France for the game and… well, I saw this, and I just thought of you.” He stumbled through words with a smile. You turned and placed the flowers and the bag on a console in the foyer of the house unboxing it all. Inside was a mini red Dior lady dior, classic, chic, and unmistakably something you loved on sight. Yes, this was very much so a perk of present day Trent.

“Trent, I—” You looked up at him, stunned, your heart racing. But before you could finish, he interrupted with a cheeky smirk.

“One more thing… because well, in my opinion it matches and…” As you took the next bag he was pushing towards you and began to open the other, you smirked with a furrowed brow. It wasn't any more designer, instead something priceless. You pulled out a familiar red top you had just seen Trent wearing on the telly during his match days ago. You smiled seeing a Liverpool Alexander-Arnold jersey. One of his own. “If you ever want to wear one,” he said, his eyes softening. “I’d prefer it if it was mine. Because you know… you’re kind of mine.” The words hung between you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You ran your fingers over the bold name and number on the back, biting back a giddy smile.

“This is… wow, are you sure, baby, It’s a pretty big statement.” you teased, glancing up at him. He stepped closer, his eyes serious, and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I mean it. You’re… You’re so important to me, Y/N.” That moment felt like a declaration all on its own, leaving you feeling lighter and less uncertain, ready to see where this might possibly go. That maybe it wasn’t all just for behind closed doors. The gift in your hands felt weighty, more than just fabric or leather—it felt like a quiet promise. “I always liked when you were at the park watching me play growing up, and I really like it when you’re at Anfield now watching me.” His words stuck you deep. Maybe he wasn’t just making it all up about having a crush on your growing up in the park. The way Trent looked at you, the softness in his eyes and the little, lingering smile on his lips, spoke volumes. You glanced down at the jersey again, fingertips tracing over the double barreled last name. This wasn’t just a shirt; it was a claim, a gesture that felt almost absurdly personal. He watched you closely, gauging every shift in your expression. His usual confident demeanor softened, almost vulnerable, as he waited for you to say something more. But words felt clumsy in that moment, so you took a small step forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly. Trent hugged you back, his hands gentle against your back, pulling you in like he was afraid to let go.

“I… I don’t even know what to say,” you finally whispered into his shoulder, feeling both overwhelmed and elated. You pulled back, just enough to look up at him. “This is… it’s really thoughtful, T, baby.” He gave a little shrug, downplaying the significance.

“Think about you a lot. I wish I could show you better. This is one way I guess. And I just thought you’d look better in one mine, yeah?” His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed him. You could see the warmth, the intent behind this small collection of gifts. Grinning, you took the jersey holding it up between you.

“So… I’m supposed to just wear this and be yours, huh?” You said with a smirk. His grin turned into a smirk.

“That’s the idea,” he said, stepping in close, his hands finding your waist. “But only if you’re up for it.” You felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t break his gaze. His fingers began to play with the hem of the shirt you currently had on. You didn’t expect your heart to stutter the way it did seeing him today. You looked down, biting your lip, feeling almost shy under his gaze.

“And you’re sure?” you murmured, looking back up at him. He reached up, cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek, letting his fingers linger just a little longer against your skin.

“I’ve known you too long not to be.” His voice was low, and there was a sincerity there that felt like a balm to every worry you’d been carrying. Without another word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, soft but intentional, letting yourself believe him. Trent’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, like he was anchoring himself to you. The kiss deepened, and you both sank into it, unhurried, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. You finally pulled back from the kiss to really look at the jersey still in your hands. It wasn’t from a store it was very clearly one of his. He even had drawn a little heart, in only a way a boy would, but nevertheless cute, on the bottom of the white embossed #66. The whole thing was incredibly sweet.

“Guess I know what I’m wearing to the next match I go to. Someone just has to invite me.” You said with a teasing smile.

“You’re always invited but yeah, you better be wearing that,” he chuckled, his eyes shining. “I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna look perfect on you as well.” And with that, you felt some of your doubts fade, replaced by the excitement of whatever was waiting ahead and right now what was waiting was thick sexual tension creeping in. As you held the soft fabric of the jersey, Trent's eyes sparkled with mischief. He stepped back into you once more, his muscular body radiating heat, planting a soft kiss on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His warm breath fanning your sensitive skin as he gently nibbled, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. Swiftly a moment that was meant to be sentimental, suddenly began to steam up.

"Do you want me to try it on for you, baby?" you suggested, your voice a little hoarse with desire. Trent hummed in response, his lips still brushing against your skin as his fingers idley returned to play with the hem of your shirt. With a swift motion, he lifted the shirt you were already wearing over your head entirely exposing your bare torso, no bra. Your breath caught at the sudden rush of cool air on your heated skin. Trent's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your full tits, your nipples already hardening in anticipation.

"You look so fucking gorgeous all the fucking time, baby" he growled, his voice thick with want. His hands glided over your shoulders, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then slid down to cup your tits. He thumbed your nipples, rolling and pinching gently, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

"I need you, T… now," you murmured before his lips found yours in a searing kiss. The kiss was hungry, demanding, and filled with passion. Different than before. Trent's tongue danced with yours, exploring and claiming, while his hands roamed freely over your body, mapping every curve and valley. He kneaded your boobs, squeezing and lifting them, making you moan into his mouth. You clung to him, running your fingers over his curls, pulling him closer as if you could merge your bodies into one. His erection pressing against your lower belly, a hard ridge that promised pleasure and satisfaction you’d come to know well but couldn’t get enough of. His hands moved to slide around you down to your ass, over it and then under. Breaking the kiss, Trent lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you upstairs, making sure to grab both of your tops in his hand, sparing any damning evidence. His strong arms never faltering as you giggled breathlessly nibbling on his ear lobe whispering the naughtiest things in his ear despite feeling like an innocent princess in his hold. And then like a shot gun signaling a start, your bedroom door clicked shut behind you.

Trent laid you down on your soft sheets, his eyes never leaving yours. In a blur of passion, you found yourself on your bed, both of your clothes completely vanished now, your legs wrapped around Trent's strong waist again. He hovered above you, his body a delicious weight pressing you into the mattress. You could feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against you. His eyes, dark and intense, holding yours captive, and you knew in that moment it truly felt like you were his. The dominant glint in his eyes sent a thrill through your body, making you ache to surrender completely.

“Tell me what you want.” He cooed almost tauntingly. Trent's voice was a low rumble, filled with desire and possession as he whispered above you leaning in to begin leaving kisses from behind your ear down your jaw. You didn’t answer you just nodded eagerly, giving him permission, your eyes pleading for him to take control. And he did. He pressed his lips to yours as his fingers trailed down your body, tracing your curves, before slipping between your thighs and through your pussy’s wet folds. “Such a messy girl. You're so always so fucking wet for me, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. You were already soaked, your arousal glistening on your sensitive folds. Trent's touch was like a lightning bolt, igniting a fire within you. “Tell me what you want.” He demanded again and it started a fire in you, igniting something carnal. You whined and when he teased his fingers around your clit.

"You, T, fuck… I want you," you whimpered as he stroked your clit, his touch feather-light but intensely pleasurable. His fingers dipped lower, finding your entrance and pushing inside, filling you with a delicious stretch. You gasped as you felt him slip two fingers all the way inside of you with a curl. He smirked watching your face scrunch up from the intrusion. You arched off your bed, seeking more, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers. "Please, baby" you begged, your voice breathy and desperate. "I need you inside me. I want your cock, T." He grinned down at you, his eyes alight with possessiveness. “I want you to be rough, T.” You whined desperate for him to just use you.

"You want me to be rough with you? You like that don't you, baby?" He mocked in the hottest way. You reached out towards him, dragging your hand down his abs before wrapping your hand around his hard shaft. You pumped his cock with your spit mixed with his leaking precum,l. He pulled his fingers out of you swiftly. His one hand laced his fingers with yours pinning your hands above your head, the other tapping his cock against your clit, dragging it through your fold’s teasingly. Neither of you had the patience for more foreplay. You needed him inside of you now and he was giving you just that. His big brown eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier and heavier. “You’re gonna be a good girl f’me, hmm?” His words send a thrill through you, a heady combination of desire and submission. You nod eagerly, your eyes locked on his.

"Yeah" you whispered. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hands moving to grip your hip firmly. You felt the broad head of his cock nudging at your entrance before he thrusted forward, filling you in one smooth stroke."Oh, God!" you cried out, your body welcoming him with a delicious tightness. Your hands broke out of his and grabbed to hold him. Your nails digging into his back muscles as he slid inside of you. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp. He rocked into you. Trent’s cock stretched you deliciously hitting the spot only he knew immediately.

“Doing so good f’me, baby. Take my cock so well. You okay?” He asked gently as he flicked his eyes to yours. You nodded with a shy smile as he pulled back out just barely, leaving just the tip in. With a growl, he thrusted into you again, filling you so completely that you gasped once over. His cock, hard and throbbing, stretching you to the limit, and you loved every second of it. The sensation of being so full, so possessed, sent sparks of pleasure through your body. He set a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with deep, powerful strokes. Your bodies creating a sensual rhythm, the squelching sound of your skin slapping against each other filling the room. Trent's jaw clenched, his eyes hooded as he watched his cock disappear into your slick heat.

"You feel so fucking good," you moaned, your breath coming in short gasps. "Feel so deep. Oh my god." You whined. You inhaled a sharp breath feeling a lightheadedness come over as you took him. He kept his beautiful brown eyes fixed on you. The pupils in his dark eyes dilated as he felt his cock pulse inside you. Every movement was slow, deep, and intentional. His lips curled into a smug smile hearing you whine. You were completely his and he reveled in it. You dragged your ankle down his back muscles. He was so gentle yet harsh at the same time. Trent’s hand slid up your body and wrapped around your neck gently but assertively causing the knot in your core to tighten as you moaned more.

"Whose pussy is this?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with need.

"Yours, Trent," you whispered, your voice breathless. "Only yours." He quickened his pace, his hips snapping forward with each thrust, driving into you relentlessly. Your tits, full and heavy, bounced with each movement, the sensitive peaks grazing his chest, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. He let go of your neck and leaned back a little. Trent's hands moving to grip your thighs, holding your legs wide open, exposing you completely to his gaze and touch.

"God, fuck. You're so fucking wet, baby," he growled, his eyes fixed on the junction where his cock disappeared into your body. "So good f’me." He praised you as you moaned, the explicit words and the sight of him pounding into your body pushing you closer to the edge. Your hands moved off him to clutch at the sheets, your knuckles turning white as you tried to anchor yourself against the force of his thrusts. The room continued to be filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your desperate moans, and Trent's dirty words. Trent could feel your pussy clenching tighter, he knew you were close.

"Tell me, baby, whose cock are you gonna cum on right now?" Trent's voice was rough but smug, his face a mask of pure desire and self satisfaction.

"Yours, T," you panted, your voice thick with pleasure. “I want to cum on your cock." Your eyes rolling back as you felt the climax building. "I'll only ever cum on your cock, T." Your words seemed to unleash something primal within him. His eyes lit with possession. His hips pistoned faster, his cock pounding into your sensitive flesh. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, his cock feeling harder inside of you, and the knowledge that he was close to his own release sent you spiraling towards your climax. The words you’d just said had tumbled out. And to be honest, you kind of hoped your commitment was true. You only ever wanted his dick… it was that good. You wrapped your legs stayed around his waist, drawing him even deeper, your hands moving to clutch at his shoulders, leaving half-moon marks on his tanned skin. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue invading, possessing. His hips never stoping their relentless motion, driving you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

"That's right, you're my good girl. Only cum f’me. Only gonna ever wear my jersey too, yeah?" he grunted the question, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded as the coil in your stomach tightened. Orgasmic bliss barrelling towards you."Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you love my cock." His words were like a match to the kindling of your desire. His words pushed you over the precipice. Your body tensed every nerve ending singing as you soared into your climax. Trent's fingers dug into your hips, holding you firmly in place as he fucked you into your climax, his own release building. And then in a split second just when the outside world couldn’t have seemed further away you heard the tracks of the garage door begin to open.

"T!" you cried out, your voice high and desperate. The distant rumble of Jack returning home made your heart stop but you couldn’t stop your body’s orgasmic convulsions though. Your climax exploded through your body, rippling waves of pleasure that caused your back to arch and your pussy to clamp down on Trent’s cock. You cried out, your voice a mix of pleasure and surprise and panic, as your release washed over you, the waves of pleasure so intense they left you trembling. Trent's name was a mantra on your lips you were trying to bite back as you rode the waves of ecstasy but it was all mixed with genuine fear. “T… T.. fuck!” You yelped, your hands moving to press against his chest to push him off. He didn’t hear the garage, he was locked in. You knew he was about to cum. “Trent!” You yelped just as his body tensed above you. His eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a guttural grunt, his hips making one final, powerful thrust as he filled you with his release. “Jack! Trent!” You told him. Trent had never had a more conflicting climax in his life. Panic, euphoria, and disgust hearing his mates name while he finished all at once. Trent's eyes widened, and he froze, his cock still buried deep within you. His release leaking inside you. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a frantic rhythm that matched your own. The sensation of his hot cum inside you sent you over the edge again, a second orgasm washing over you, leaving you boneless and sated, Trent fighting back a groan as you tightened around him once more. Panting, your bodies glistening with sweat, you clung to each other, hearts racing but you needed to move. Now. The sudden realization that you were both naked and exposed snapped you back to the present. Anxiety flared in your chest as you scrambled to get Trent off you and find your clothes, your heart pounding. This was it. Jack was going to find out.

"Shit," Trent cursed, quickly reaching for his boxers. "Your brother... we need to get downstairs." He instructed you. The urgency in his voice mirrored your own racing thoughts. You frantically searched for your clothes, scattered across the room. In a mad dash, you pulled on your panties and scrambled to find everything, while Trent hastily pulled on his trousers. The heat of the moment had turned into a frantic race against time. The sound of Jack’s arrival sent you both into a scramble, grabbing at clothes, fumbling with buttons, zipper, shirts pulled over heads, doing whatever you could to look convincingly casual.

“Fuck, fuck!” you yelled in a whisper, heart pounding as you clutched the sides of your shirt, tugging it over your head, trying to compose yourself. You shot Trent a panicked look. Tears forming on your lash line.

“Baby… Baby… we’ll be okay. You’re okay. C’mon.” He kissed your forehead before helping adjust your top. The slam of the door into the house had sent you and Trent into an even more panicked frenzy as you scrambled to not look like you just fucked.

“My car,” Trent hissed almost to himself, eyes wide, realizing that leaving his car in the driveway was like leaving a neon sign that he was there.

“He’s going to see it…” You glanced at him, panicked. There was no hiding now. With your pulse racing, you tried to look as normal as possible, grabbing the closest thing you could find to play off a casual visit—a charger tangled near your bed. The two of you locked eyes, a silent agreement that this was your cover story. You nodded back before you ran down the stairs just as Jack came through the other side of the house. Thank god the staircase up to your room was at the opposite end. You could hear Jack’s footsteps making his way towards you two as you made it downstairs. When he saw you and Trent his eyebrows raised, but he was relaxed enough.

“Aye, mate, what’s up?” he asked, looking from Trent to you and back again. Jack looked at Trent with a faintly furrowed brow. Trent plastered on a relaxed smile, putting on his most casual tone.

“Yeah, good bro. Sorry, ah…left my phone charger here last time,” he replied smoothly, nodding toward the one you were now holding out like a lifeline. You forced a smile, trying to seem casual. Jack’s gaze lingered on you for a second, his expression skeptical.

“So…” Jack’s tone held a playful curiosity. “You knew I wasn’t home?” Trent shrugged.

“Yeah, bro, only a charger so I didn’t want to nag you about it,” he said, as you casually waving the charger like it was some grand prize he’d finally retrieve. “Y/N was just letting me grab it real quick.” You handed Trent the charger, feeling Jack’s gaze on both of you. Trent took it with a casual ‘Thanks,’ stuffing it into his pocket as if it had been his all along. You were mildly annoyed you were losing a charger but that was the least of your worries “Just thought I’d pop in, grab it, and head out.” Jack stared for a moment longer, lips curving into a smirk as he finally dropped his gaze.

“Right… sound.” he chuckled. Trent laughed, playing along, and you couldn’t help but join in, trying to mask your own nerves. Jack looked between you both, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite read but it was more confusion at the energy in the room than a hint of suspicion. But he just laughed, shrugging it off as Trent left. Trent still managed to give you a tiny, playful wink before slipping out, leaving your mind reeling.

“He’s so weird.” Jack teased you, still watching Trent get in his car. “Man makes millions and he’s pressed about a charger.” You let out a small, nervous laugh, hoping to play it cool. You felt Jack’s arm wrap around your shoulder in a lighthearted squeeze, and he shot you a teasing grin.

“Nah, he’s just… Trent… mindful, maybe?” you managed, trying to fill the silence and maybe convince both Jack and yourself. Jack smirked, shaking his head. Your heart was still racing but at least Trent had remained calm.

“Yeah, well, you were probably just gassed you got his attention alone for five minutes.” He laughed, punching at your arm as he passed you. You forced yourself to chuckle, hoping the nervous energy vibrating through you wasn’t as obvious as it felt. Jack’s teasing had hit closer to home than he knew, and as you watched Trent’s car pull away from the driveway, you felt a mix of thrill and relief. The cover story might’ve worked, but the spark between you two? That was only getting harder to hide.

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes, trying to sound nonchalant as you looked down, tugging at the hem of your shirt. You laughed, a little too loudly, hoping it came off as amused and not as a frantic release of tension. Jack gave a little shrug, seemingly satisfied.

“Just saying, you love Trenty.” He laughed teasingly but you didn’t. Not this time. “Y/N… I’m kidding. I know he’s your mate too. Relax. He came for a charger, innit. I’m joking. Sorry.” He looked at you apologetically, mildly confused why a tease about you have a crush on Trent hit so differently than before. He always poked fun but your vibe felt weird. He opted to just let it roll off his back, moving on and turned, remaining oblivious as he headed to the kitchen. Meanwhile you were left with a stomach full of butterflies, lined with guilt and a heart still pounding from the close call. Watching Trent drive away, you felt an undeniable thrill mixed with something deeper, something that had you feeling torn between excitement and culpability. The cover story had worked for now, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that keeping this secret would only get harder with time.

Sneaking around with Trent had quickly transformed into something more, something you felt deep in your bones. The thrill was undeniable, yet the way you kept finding yourself drawn back to him made it feel like it wasn't just about the thrill anymore. After Jack almost catching you, it just felt like you both actually thought what you were doing might’ve been worth it. Tonight felt like a step closer to something real, though the secrecy only intensified it. You'd told Jack you'd be staying over at Layla's, a lie that sat heavy, but the promise of a night with Trent made it worth it. When you arrived at his place, Trent's smile greeted you at the door, warm and familiar, and immediately, you felt all that tension melt away. He led you out to the back garden, where he had set up a cozy space just for the two of you. Blankets were draped over the outdoor couch on the patio, and the fire pit cast a gentle, golden glow. Jazz murmured softly from a speaker, blending perfectly with the low hum of the night, creating a sense of comfort that felt more intimate than you'd expected. The whole setup seemed to say: I wanted this to feel special. You nestled into the couch beside him, sharing the same blanket as the fire flickered, warming your faces. Trent leaned back, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, the other hand resting on your knee, and you felt yourself relaxing against him as if this was exactly where you belonged.

Although, it wasn't long though before he suggested a game of cards, his competitive spirit sparking in his eyes. You moved to sit cross-legged on the couch, turning to face him as you dealt the cards. Trent sat back, legs spread, confidence written across his face. But as the game went on and the tide turned in your favor, his expression shifted. He huffed when you won a hand, mumbling something about beginner's luck, but you could tell he was getting flustered. When you won again, his pout turned into a grin full of mischief.

"Nah, not having this. C'mon, there's no way you're this lucky," he teased, snatching the cards from your hand before pulling you into his lap, his hands snaking around your waist.

"Maybe I'm just better at it than you," you quipped, knowing it would get under his skin. He narrowed his eyes, pretending to look insulted but deep down you knew he hated hearing it, joke or not.

"Oh, so that's how it is, huh?" he murmured before leaning in, his teeth grazing your neck in a playful nibble, a cross between a kiss and bite as his hands gripped you tighter. You squirmed, laughing, trying to wriggle free, but he was stronger than you and wouldn't let you go.

"Just admit I won," you teased, breathless from laughing, glancing up at him with a triumphant smile.

"Not a chance," he whispered, voice low as his face hovered inches from yours, his eyes full of that look that made your pulse race. "The game's postponed. We'll settle it later." He said deciding he just wanted to be with you for the moment, no games. He let his hold on you loosen, and you rolled your eyes with a grin.

"Whatever you want, baby." You murmured, your voice warm and teasing. He stilled, his gaze softening as he took you in, as if hearing you calling him ‘baby’ for the first time. Colloquially. The look in his eyes made your stomach flip, a moment of quiet that felt far more intimate than any kiss or touch. With a hum of satisfaction, he pulled you in closer, one hand tracing down your back.

"I like the sound of that." His fingers gently pressed into your skin, grounding you in that moment, and his other hand reached up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You stayed wrapped up together, letting the night carry you in the warmth of each other's presence. Hours passed without notice, the jazz lulling softly in the background as you nestled closer, feeling his hand rest securely around you. His touch was soft, comforting, as if to say he wasn't in any rush to let go. The stars were bright overhead, and the crackling flames cast shadows over his face. Trent looked at you with a rare openness, a softness that made your chest ache in the best way. He pressed a kiss to your hair, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on you. You rested your head against his shoulder, your legs curled over his lap, feeling the strength of his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. Every so often, he'd lean down, brushing his lips against your temple or whispering something sweet that made your heart stutter. It felt like you were existing in your own little world, a pocket of warmth and comfort that was just for the two of you. The night stretched on, but neither of you felt any rush to move or break the spell. This wasn't just a thrill, or a secret-you could feel the weight of something genuine growing between you, something you were both beginning to understand couldn't be hidden forever.

Settling into Trent’s bed that night felt surreal—soft sheets, plush pillows, and the faint scent of him in the air made it feel luxurious, almost like a dream. Yet, there was that small tug of something missing, a sense of feeling a bit out of place amidst the perfection. You liked your routine, your things, that’s all. This was well, it was his bed, his room, his world. You didn’t quite realize how it showed until Trent, lying beside you with a gentle smile, noticed it.

“I can tell you’re uncomfortable. What’s up?” he asked, his gaze soft but curious. You shook your head with a half-hearted laugh, trying to dismiss it.

“I’m not uncomfortable… I just…” you trailed off, unable to find the words. But he shook his head, unconvinced.

“Nah, baby, c’mon,” he coaxed, “alright. Tell me what you usually do before bed.” He rolled over and looked at you with a smile. At that, you couldn’t help but grin.

“Okay, so,” you started, tucking your hair behind your ear as you settled into explaining shuffling in the sheets.. “First thing’s first: I have to take off all my makeup. But that means using an oil cleanser first because it breaks everything down— mascara, everything. Then I use a second cleanser to really clean my skin. It’s called double cleansing.” You giggled as Trent nodded with a raised eyebrow, trying not to smile.

“Double cleansing?” he echoed. “More than once seems like….” You widened your eyes silently asking to finish and continued on.

“Trust me, it makes a difference because some of us don’t just wake up moisturize and go.” You teased and he rolled his eyes swiping his thumb over his cheekbone as if to show off his perfect skin. “But then I have to pat my face dry with specific towels or like disposable ones, you know? Like I can’t just be rubbing whatever to dry.” He leaned back, clearly amused but listening intently. You were pretty sure he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into.

“Okay, what’s next?” he asked, a playful grin on his face.

“Then it’s skincare time,” you declared. “I use a toner first.” Trent nodded but you knew he probably didn’t know what that meant. “After that, I have a few serums. Then… ” You cooed but Trent interjected.

“A few!?” Trent’s eyes widened slightly. It was becoming evidently more and more clear he did not have a sister. A part of you laughed that you never realized how deep that fact ran and then a part of you felt a bit relieved this was the first time he seemed to be hearing this. The idea that any girl that had come before you had yet to explain this to him.

“Yeah then we move to like eye creams, moisturizers next,” you explained and continued to rattle on with more. He looked impressed and bewildered at the same time.

“That’s… a lot,” he said, but there was a note of affection in his voice that made you smile.

“And we’re not even done!” you pointed out. “After the skincare, I do my hair care. Apply some products for hydration. Oh and silk pillowcases are a must for both skin and hair. They’re gentler and prevent breakage.” Trent’s eyes sparkled with humor, but he nodded as if taking mental notes.

“Alright, so we’ve got skin and hair. Anything else?” He smirked almost assuming you were done.

“Obviously,” you said, feigning indignation. “Then I have to set up my room. I spray a lavender sleep mist onto my bed to help me relax, and I take my nighttime supplements—magnesium, a sleep aid if I need it, maybe some collagen.” You explained.

“Supplements too?” he repeated, clearly finding all of this fascinating. He had routines but it was more for optimizing performance and in a way you were doing just the same.

“Yep. And then I need like wattterrrs,” you explained dragging out the word, feeling more animated as you talked. “And sometimes, if I’m feeling really stressed, I’ll do a short guided meditation before bed. Just five to ten minutes to clear my mind.” Trent was leaning forward now, his chin resting in his hands grinning ear to ear. Trent started laughing, eyes wide with disbelief.

“That’s like 15 steps, baby!” he exclaimed, shaking his head as if you’d told him the most extravagant bedtime routine on earth and maybe you had in his mind. You laughed along, shrugging.

“Hey, you asked! Besides, don’t pretend you’re not just as high maintenance with all your Byredo lotions over there.” You smirked, nodding toward the sleek row of bottles lined on the counter in the ensuite. He rolled his eyes, giving a mock scoff.

“Alright, alright… but that’s… that’s quite the process,” he said, his voice laced with teasing affection. “You really do all that every night?” You crossed your arms, pretending to be offended.

“I mean I try to every single night! It’s called self-care, T. There’s more out there than just what the club tells you to do. You should try my routine sometime.” You giggled teasing him. You knew he took really good care of himself but when it came to beauty he was more relaxed. He laughed, the sound filling the room.

“I don’t think I could handle all of that.” He smirked. You couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the compliment. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Even if he didn’t fully understand each step, he was there, listening and appreciating the lengths you went to for your own well-being. And that made you feel seen in a way that was hard to explain. Still smiling, he grabbed his phone, opening his notes app. “Okay, baby… give me the names and brands. Everything you need for sleeping here.” Your heart fluttered at the gesture, so thoughtful and unexpected. You began listing each product, and he typed them with an almost serious focus, nodding as if he were taking notes on a game plan; Slip pillow cases, Tata Harper cleansers, Maison Francis mists, a 14th Night Hair Elixir.

“You don’t actually have to do all this,” you murmured, feeling almost shy. But his hand found yours, and he squeezed it gently.

“I want you to feel comfortable here,” he said softly, looking at you with that easy, open sincerity. “Besides, if it’s gonna make you sleep better, then it’s worth it. Keeps you in my bed.” He cheekily cooed. The thoughtfulness left you feeling a mix of warmth and gratitude, a sense of belonging that surprised you. And as much as you adored the idea of your favorite products sitting in his bathroom, what you loved even more was this—him, making space for you in his world, in his home. It also felt nice to know it’d be like a warning should any other girl be over. This was your marking your territory.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shifting closer to him, a smile playing on your lips. “Honestly, though… all I really need to feel at home is you.” He smiled, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you.

“You’ve always felt like home to me.” He whispered back to you. Both of your admissions honest. The room was calm, the dim light casting soft shadows, and Trent’s fingers lazily traced patterns along your arm as you both settled into the cozy rhythm of conversation. The hum of street lights outside mixed with the soft rustling of sheets, making the entire moment feel even more intimate. Even after Trent finished noting down your list, he looked over with a smirk, still visibly amused by the whole process. “So, am I missing anything? Or do we need to add a couple more things for this routine?”

“Oh, don’t even start,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “You wouldn’t understand—it’s just habitual; it’s so I can look pretty.” You batted your eyes at him. He laughed, tipping his head back, the sound warm and rich.

“Well… you always look beautiful. Don’t think you need all this but, consider me converted if it makes you happy,” he said, miming a solemn vow. “But seriously, I’ll get it, alright? It’s not just about making you feel at home—it’s about you being at home here, whenever you want.” The sincerity in his words made your cheeks warm. For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would feel like for this to be your regular night: no need to pack an overnight bag, no sneaking in and out, just… this, every night. You snuggled deeper into his embrace, the weight of his arm draped protectively around you making everything feel somehow complete. He noticed the pensive look on your face and tilted his head, studying you. “What’re you thinking about?”

“It’s just… weird, you know? I didn’t expect it to feel this comfortable here.” You hesitated, then smiled softly. “I thought it would feel… wrong.” He ran his hand gently up and down your back, pulling you even closer. It was wrong. It was wrong what you were doing to Jack, but this? This felt very right.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. But I also knew it’d be good. You and I have always been good. I want it to feel easy. Want you to feel like you don’t have to hide anything when we’re here or feel out of place here.” His voice was low, soothing, and he spoke as if he were letting you in on some quiet, long-held secret. He reached over, smoothing a strand of hair away from your face, fingers lingering as he looked into your eyes with that calm, unwavering gaze of his. “I know we’re figuring things out, and it might be complicated but it doesn’t have to be here. We’re good here,” he said softly, his hand resting gently on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, heart beating a little faster.

“You really mean that?” you whispered, almost afraid of his answer.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice steady. “I think we’re pretty damn good together.” He smirked. For a moment, the silence between you was filled with unspoken words, a warmth passing between you that felt equal parts thrilling and comforting. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and smiled, nestling closer to him.

“Okay,” you murmured, settling fully into the pillow beside him, letting his steady breathing and the soft glow of his gaze ground you. The weight of his arm around you felt like an anchor, keeping you steady even as your mind whirled with thoughts of what this meant, of what you meant to him. He pulled you even closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“So… really, pretty girl, any final steps in this ritual of yours? Any last ones?” he teased, breaking the quiet moment with a playful glint in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, laughing.

“Alright, alright, since you’re so curious… And I’m generous, I guess I could share the one I never even leave home without.” You reached over, awkwardly leaning to grab your lip balm you’d already moved to the nightstand earlier to have on hand. It was a lip balm you brought with you everywhere, so tonight was no different. It was a rich Hermes lip balm. Nothing made your lips feel more well-hydrated, supple or better than this. You applied a layer to your own lips before leaning in, catching him with a soft kiss that tasted faintly of beeswax.

“There, now you’re officially a part of my routine,” you said, grinning. He shook his head, still chuckling, his fingers tracing along your jaw as he pulled you in for another kiss.

“If this is how the routine ends, I’m in.” And in that moment, with the warmth of his arms around you, the soft glow of the lights outside, and the quiet thrill of realizing just how natural this all felt, you let yourself settle fully into the moment. Trent leaned over you and grabbed the sleek tube again. “You think the lads would take the mick if I rolled around using Hermes lip balm? Because this actually feels so good.” He asked you earnestly. You smirked knowing the answer would likely be yes but you just hummed.

“Does it? Or was it my kiss?” You teased. “Nah, you could use it though. If you’d want you can take this one. I’ll get another one.” You cooed, pressing your lips to his again. Trent nodded agreeing. And he did. You let him take it the next day. But that night you fell to sleep happy, lips moisturized, and all the worries and doubts fading into the background, leaving just you and him, here together, finding home in each other.

As you bounded down the stairs, practically buzzing with excitement, you were already mentally at Trent’s, imagining the quiet moments you’d get to have again, just the two of you for another night. You’d been doing this a lot. Hiding it all from everyone but reveling in the time tucked together. Your heart raced as you went through the plan in your head—another night wrapped up in his arms, laughing, teasing, letting everything else fall away. But Jack’s voice cut through your daydreams, grounding you in an instant.

“Hey, you headed out? Who’s the lucky lad now?” he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes studying you closely. Your heart skipped, a blend of panic and guilt washing over you. You were sure he’d started to suspect something, especially with all the time you’d been spending away. Swallowing hard, you tried for a casual response. You didn’t think he’d even be considering Trent, but it was clear you were spending a lot of time ‘out’ with someone. No matter, lying to Jack… Jack, your big brother, your best friend; though you’d never tell Layla that, it all felt so wrong.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to jinx it, you know? Not yet,” you said with a soft smile, hoping he’d leave it at that. But Jack wasn’t one to let things slide easily. He just hummed, giving you a long, knowing look. Then, with a gentleness that caught you off guard, he spoke again.

“Hey…” he started, and you could hear the tenderness in his voice. “I’ve never seen you like this before.” He sympathetically smiled.

“What do you mean?” You looked up at him, surprised

“I mean, there’s a light in you that I haven’t seen in a while. It’s good to see it again.” His eyes softened, a mix of pride and love filling his gaze. “I don’t know what this lad’s doing, but whatever it is, it’s bringing out the best in you. Look happier. Healthier.” A rush of emotion swelled in your chest, catching you off guard. The tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you could stop them, and you looked away, trying to compose yourself. Jack noticed, stepping forward and wrapping you in one of those big, protective hugs he was so good at. You felt the familiar strength of his arms around you, his hand gently rubbing your back as he held you close. “I just want you happy,” he murmured into your hair, and the raw honesty in his voice almost broke you. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I told Mum and Dad I’d look out for you, you know?” His voice was low, laced with the memories and promises you both had carried for years. You felt horrible. You were lying. Why were you lying? “I know I can be a pain sometimes, but… I don’t want you being with anyone that treats you like…” Jack tried to say it but he couldn’t. Jack was protective, loving but as communicative and close as you two were he just couldn’t stomach the idea of men treating you poorly so he couldn’t get the words out. “You deserve to be loved, to feel safe, that’s all.” Jack was the only place you felt safe since your mum passed. Your dad closed off and Jack stepped up. You shut your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace seep into you. There were times when a hug from Jack felt like it held everything you missed, everything you longed for—comfort, security, family. It was a rare, grounding feeling, and one that made you ache with a strange blend of gratitude and sadness. Pulling back just enough to look at you, Jack brushed his hand over your cheek, a soft smile on his lips. “Maybe we go to Sefton Park sometime soon?” he suggested. “Just us, like old times. Feels like we’re missing each other lately. Never see you.” He smiled softly and it made your heart ache. The weight of his words settled in your chest, and you managed a nod, blinking back the tears that had filled your eyes. You felt his arm tighten around you for a second, and he chuckled softly. “And… maybe one day you can introduce me to this fella. He seems alright, if he’s making you this happy.” His words hit harder than you expected, the guilt flaring up in your chest as you forced a smile.

“Yeah… maybe.” You sheepishly told him feeling nauseous at the idea that Jack knew this ‘fella’ better than he probably ever wanted to. Jack gave you a gentle squeeze, reaching to teasingly pull on the ends of your hair like he used to when you were kids.

“Alright, go on then. Don’t keep him waiting. Don’t fuck it up now.” He winked, letting you go, but the warmth in his eyes stayed with you. As you walked to the door, your heart hurt, the weight of your secret feeling heavier with each step. The excitement of seeing Trent was still there, humming in the back of your mind, but Jack’s words lingered. You felt torn, a part of you wanting to spill everything to your brother, to let him see the whole truth. But as you got outside, you forced yourself to push it all away. For now, you just wanted to hold onto the happiness Jack had seen in you. You wanted to be with Trent, to laugh, to feel that lightness and warmth without the shadow of guilt hanging over you. And even if it was only for a night, you let yourself believe that was enough.

When morning rolled in, you were tucked into the sheets, the soft weight of the comforter keeping you warm as you dozed off, half-conscious of Trent beside you. The light filtered in through the blinds, illuminating the room in a golden haze, and you felt a deep contentment, drifting in that hazy, relaxed state between sleep and wakefulness. But then you felt the bed shift as Trent sat up more. You looked around Trent’s room, feeling oddly out of place though, despite how many times you had now woken up tangled in his sheets, wrapped up in the ease and warmth he offered. Today, though, it felt different. Your lies seeping in the warmth. The room, with its familiar scent of him, his things strewn about casually, almost felt like a stage where you were playing a part you couldn’t reveal. It was strange, bittersweet, this cozy little world of yours that felt so real here but that would eventually dissolve the moment you stepped back into your life with Jack.

“Hi, baby,” you murmured, blinking up at him, a sleepy smile spreading across your face trying to be present and not get lost in your thoughts. You scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and nestling into him. He gave a soft chuckle, running his fingers through your hair.

“Hi, pretty girl.” He leaned down, kissing the top of your head. “Hey, I need you to stay in bed for me for a bit, yeah?” he said, his tone gentle but somehow cautious. You raised an eyebrow, pulling back to look at him more closely, half-expecting it to be some cheeky invitation.

“Stay in bed?” you teased, smiling as you placed a playful kiss on his chest. But then he spoke again, and you caught the slight edge in his voice.

“Yeah, erm… Jack’s popping over,” he said, watching you carefully. It was like a cold wave washed over you, jolting you fully awake. You immediately pushed yourself up, heart racing.

“Wait—what?” You scrambled, trying to pull yourself together, suddenly very aware that you were in Trent’s bed, in his house, wearing only his shirt. Trent had forgotten Jack was swinging by today until he got the text moments ago reminding him. He had promised he’d donate a pair of signed boots or something for Jack’s company to auction off for charity and today… he was coming to pick them up.

“I forgot. Honest. It’ll be alright though.” He tried to tell you. This could not keep happening. You couldn’t tell which situation was worse. Jack finding out the other day - Trent was fucking you at your house, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to be there… Or Jack finding out now - You weren’t having sex as he came over but there was zero reason for you to be at Trent’s this early. There would be no excuse. You couldn’t keep lying to Jack this was eating you up. One mildly redeeming thought popped into your head – thankfully, your car was in Trent’s garage out of sight. It was tucked away though because Trent told you, you needed to take better care of it and can’t just leave it out all the time but still your anxiety was spiking.

“T, then I have to leave!” you hissed, frantically looking around for how you could possibly grab all your things in time. You could already feel the guilt bubbling up inside, imagining Jack’s reaction if he walked in and found you here. But Trent just reached out, gently tugging you back, his arms wrapping around you, grounding you.

“Hey, hey. Relax, yeah? Just stay here. He’s not coming up into my bed,” he murmured, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’ll be five minutes. He’s just coming by to pick something up. Quick, in and out. We’ll be okay.” You looked up at him, worried, still tense.

“Trent…” you began, but he only gave you a soft, reassuring smile, his eyes full of that easy confidence he always seemed to carry.

“Please. Just stay here. It’ll be okay,” he murmured, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that you could never say no to. You sighed, settling back into his embrace, heart still hammering as you heard Jack’s car pull up outside. To be fair, it made more sense for you to hide but it felt even more shameful to do. Part of you wanted to pull the covers over your head, to hide and pretend this wasn’t happening. Instead, you sat tensely in bed, listening as Trent slipped downstairs, his voice echoing faintly as he greeted Jack. You could hear their friendly banter, and it twisted your stomach with guilt. You knew it was wrong to keep this from Jack, but the thought of losing these moments with Trent was just as hard.

You sat there, still, hands nervously fidgeting as you heard their voices drifting up from downstairs. Jack’s laughter mixed with Trent’s lighter chuckle, and it churned something inside you—a pang of guilt mixed with a longing for this to be simpler, to be something you could share without worry. But for now, the thrill of sneaking around was overshadowed by the weight of keeping this secret from Jack, from the one person who’d seen you through everything, helped you through everything. But still, hearing Jack’s voice below reminded you of the stakes, of how much you valued him, his trust, and how deeply you felt the need to protect this secret with Trent—even if it meant bending the truth. You picked at the hem of Trent’s shirt, which felt soft and familiar against your skin. There was something comforting in wearing a part of him, yet it also made everything feel painfully real. This wasn’t just some fling. You knew it every time you looked into Trent’s eyes, every time he pulled you into his arms like he didn’t want to let go. And then you heard the front door close, there was silence for a little while until footsteps came up the stairs breaking it. You held your breath, half-wishing you could vanish into the walls. When Trent finally walked back in, you met his gaze, searching his face for some reassurance that you weren’t just imagining this, that he understood the complicated feelings swirling inside you. When Trent came back into the room, you’d moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his shirt still draped over you, your hands fidgeting nervously, his face softening as he noticed the tension in your posture. He gave you a soft smile, walking over and tilting your chin up so you’d meet his eyes.

“Hey. All good, yeah?” he murmured, his voice gentle. He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, and you let yourself breathe again, slowly, finding comfort in his touch. You nodded, exhaling as you managed a small smile, letting yourself relax into him.

“I just… I hate lying to him, Trent. It feels so messed up.” You let out a shaky breath, relief mingling with guilt. Trent knelt down in front of you, his hands finding yours.

“I know, and I get it,” he said softly, his thumbs tracing slow circles on your skin. “But it’s just us right now. And whatever this is,” he squeezed your hands, “I want it to be ours before it’s anyone else’s. Jack will understand that.” His words settled over you like a warm blanket, grounding you in the certainty you felt with him. The guilt didn’t completely vanish, but his reassurance made it bearable, made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could navigate this without losing what mattered. “You okay?” he asked, his gaze unwavering, full of that soft patience he always seemed to have for you. He came and sat on the bed with you. Keeping a cautious distance not wanting to overwhelm you but a gentle open hand close ready to hold yours if you wanted it. You sat across from Trent, fingers nervously fidgeting in your lap, your gaze low as you struggled to put words to the feeling that had been building up inside.

“I just… I feel so guilty, lying to Jack all the time. T, it’s fucked,” you whispered repeating it once over, barely able to meet Trent’s eyes. Trent’s expression softened, and he took your hands in his, his touch grounding.

“I know,” he murmured, squeezing your hands gently. “I feel it too. But it’s like… I can’t let this go. I can’t let you go. It’s… “ He paused momentarily, grappling with this almost as much as you. “It’s hard to feel like we can have both.” He cooed. You looked up at him, eyes searching his for something, maybe an answer, but all you found was a mirrored sense of conflict.

“I want this,” you admitted, your voice a little choked. “I want you. But I don’t know how to make it work. I feel like I’m walking a tightrope, terrified of falling in either direction.” You sniffled, trying to keep your emotions in check. He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze intense, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he lifted one of your hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“I know,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hide us either, but I also don’t want to put you in the middle.” The two of you sat there, wrapped in a silence that felt heavy, a quiet admission of the fears you shared but couldn’t quite voice. You could feel the ache in your chest intensify, a lump rising in your throat as the weight of it pressed on you. You blinked, feeling a tear slip free despite your attempts to keep it together. Trent’s gaze softened immediately. ��Hey, baby” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush the tear from your cheek. “Are you alright?” he asked, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. “Talk to me. I know this is a lot.” You tried to smile, to reassure him, but it faltered, and instead, more tears followed, spilling over as you let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling raw, exposed. “It’s just… Jack’s all I have. And I’m terrified that by being with you, by hiding this from him, I’m going to somehow lose both of you.” Your voice broke, and you quickly wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed by your own vulnerability. Trent’s expression shifted, a deep sympathy filling his eyes as he moved closer, pulling you into his arms. He wrapped you up tightly, holding you like he could somehow protect you from all the things that felt like they were slipping away.

“You could never lose me,” he whispered, his voice steady, almost as if he was willing it to be true, willing it to ease the fear in your heart. You leaned into him, feeling his arms around you, his steady presence a balm to the ache that had been building. But the silence that followed his words weighed heavily, filled with all the things neither of you could find a way to say. You let out a shaky breath, burying your face in his shoulder, feeling both comforted and conflicted in his embrace. After a moment, Trent pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re all I think about,” he said softly, a tenderness in his gaze that made your heart ache in a different way. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose, and I don’t want you to feel alone in this.” You nodded, but the weight of the situation lingered. A part of you wanted so badly to believe that his reassurance was enough, that you wouldn’t have to choose, that you could keep this connection with Trent without losing your relationship with Jack. But doubt gnawed at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were balancing on a thin line, one misstep away from losing it all. As if sensing your inner turmoil, Trent tilted your chin up, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “You’ll never lose me, no matter what happens” he repeated softly, his words a gentle promise. But something about the quiet that followed felt almost uncertain, as if he, too, knew how fragile everything was. Neither of you knew what would come next, and as he held you, the silence stretched, filled with both comfort and unspoken fears.In that moment, you held on tighter, hoping it would be enough to keep things from unraveling.

“Okay.” You nodded, managing a small smile as you squeezed his hands back. He smiled, his eyes brightening as he pulled you to your feet and into his arms.

“Always, always, always” he murmured against your hair, between kisses, holding you close as you melted into him. You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in his arms, finding strength in his steady heartbeat, letting yourself believe that somehow, everything would work out. While your brain was spiraling, Trent’s heart hurt just the same. He felt like a scumbag for lying to Jack, for being with you. But he also felt like for the first time he was properly falling for you, getting to know you in a way he’d always longed for. He couldn’t just throw it all away now, now that he had a taste. He was putting up a good front though holding you, telling you it was fine. It was hard, but fine, but he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t saying that to himself even more. He wasn’t sure he could stomach a fall out with you or Jack.

One afternoon after things stayed as they were, Trent casually reached into his pocket, pulling out the sleek little tube of lip balm, twisting it open with the practiced ease of someone who’d clearly used it more than a few times. He applied a quick swipe to his lips, completely unaware of the attention it was drawing. Noah noticed first, his brows raising in surprise before he nudged Jack, nodding subtly toward Trent. Jack caught sight of the lip balm and immediately burst into laughter.

“Bro…” he said, still chuckling, “pretty sure my sister uses that shit.”

“Yeah? What about it?” Trent glanced over, unbothered. Noah shook his head, grinning.

“Mate, good thing you’ve got that contract lined up. What’re you doing spending pounds on… what is that? Lipstick? ‘Cause it isn’t Nivia innit?” he teased, exaggerating. Trent rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips.

“First off, it’s a balm. Second, it’s moisturizing, and it’s not shiny or anything, so you lot can calm down.” Noah and Jack exchanged a look, both stifling laughs.

“Alright, alright, Pretty Boy,” Jack teased, holding up his hands in surrender.

“Just saying, Y/N buying Hermes chapstick is one thing… You? That’s mad.” Noah laughed. Unphased, Trent shrugged, narrowing his gaze on him.

“You ever see Y/N’s lips looking dry?” He held up the balm, grinning. Noah shook his head.

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly looking, am I?” Noah chuckled, clearly having fun with it. Trent just shrugged again, refusing to give them the satisfaction of riling him up.

“Just saying,” he replied smoothly. “You can keep laughing, but I’m the one not walking around with dry lips. Yours could use a little help, mate,” he joked, nodding toward Noah, who chuckled. Jack shook his head, still laughing.

“Alright, fair play,” Noah shot back, grinning. “But careful, next thing you’ll be raiding her entire collection.” Jack just laughed, shaking his head.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’re actually using the same shit as my sister.” Jack said. Trent smirked, tucking the balm back into his pocket with a satisfied look.

“Gotta keep up, don’t I?” he replied, unbothered. “She knows what she’s doing.” Noah and Jack looked at each other knowingly queuing up a joke. Trent rolled his eyes, already sensing the teasing wouldn’t let up anytime soon. But he leaned back on the couch with a smirk thinking of you and your lips.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 7 xx

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #Movie Night Fic

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cobaltperun · 2 days ago

Text

Eternal Flame (5) - Be Yourself

Cover by: @ortegalvr

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part

Word count: 6.5k

-Don't lose any sleep tonight I'm sure everything will end up alright-

The feeling of your lips against her own still lingered long after you finished shooting the scene together. It was a strangely welcome feeling; light and gentle, and most importantly it just felt right. When she kissed you, as spontaneously as it was, it felt like what she was feeling wasn't one-sided, but rather something you reciprocated. She wasn’t ready for a relationship, that’s what she’s been telling herself for some time now, while she watched her former classmates getting into their relationships and going on dates and posting about them on social media. She wasn’t ready to be vulnerable and she had a career to focus on.

But how much more vulnerable could she get? After going through an actual panic attack and calming down with you by her side? She couldn’t deny how much better she felt with you there, by her side. How often have her thoughts wandered off to you over the past couple of weeks? She dared to say almost concerningly many times.

Jenna wasn't a stranger to building connections on set, just on Scream she could tell she built friendships with Melissa, Jasmin, Mason, Mikey and many others, connections that would last long after the filming ends, regardless of potentially working together in the future. Yet there was something different with the way she was around you. With you she could be free. The panic attack proved it, and while that was something she wished had never happened, looking back and thinking about it she knew that night changed your relationship permanently. You didn’t change how you viewed her, you didn’t start treating her like she was broken, or like you needed to be careful around her, you just cared for her. She could trust you with her deepest insecurities and feel safe to share them with you.

She stole a glance toward you as you walked down the hall of the hotel you were in. As usual you were calm, confident, completely relaxed and she would be lying if she said that kind of demeanor didn't affect her as well. That same calming effect you had on her during her panic attack now affected her on a regular basis, quieting her own doubts and anxious thoughts when she was with you.

“So, that was one hell of an improvisation huh?” you broke the silence with a teasing grin on your face, but she could tell you didn't mind the kiss. Well, she wasn't exactly sure you enjoyed it, after all, it was more of a peck rather than a kiss, but she well sure you didn't mind it. And now her thoughts were going off the rails once more, and she had to make a conscious effort to stop looking at your lips.

So, to regain control and quiet her mind she teased right back. “Figured I should show them that I'm comfortable around you,” Jenna answered, nudging your lightly. For a moment she hesitated, but finding confidence in how comfortable she was around you she added: “And besides, we were supposed to kiss in the movie so there was that as well.”

You laughed, and it brought a big smile to Jenna’s face as well. She absolutely was doomed, but she loved your laugh. “Yeah, yeah, we’re sure keeping it professional. Absolutely nothing else,” oh, you were teasing her, you were absolutely teasing her, and despite how close to home it hit you were in fact joking. She could see mischief in your eyes. “You would never want to kiss me if it wasn't for the movie,” and maybe she was imagining it, projecting some of her own insecurities, but she felt self-deprecation in your tone, and she despised it.

If only you knew or rather, she figured she was lucky you didn't know. At least in some ways. As much as she hated that hint of self-deprecation, she just now noticed; she figured it would be better for both of you, in more ways than one, to keep your relationship the way it was at the moment. To stay as just friends; really, really good friends that may have crossed that line a time or two, by falling asleep together. She just wasn't sure taking the next step and acting on her feelings would turn out to be a good idea when both of you were trying to focus on your careers.

Truthfully, she was just afraid to be completely exposed to you, to let you see all of her sides, the good, the bad, her insecurities, everything she was trying to hide from others. The panic attack was one thing, and being emotionally vulnerable was almost too easy with you. But the other ways? Could she let you in on all of that?

“Of course, of course I would never,” she accepted the joke, playing off of it as two of you stopped in front of her doors. “Do you want to watch another movie?” she asked tentatively, not really wanting the night to end but just shook her head.

“Maybe some other night,” she could see a hint of regret in your eyes or perhaps she was just believing she saw it. “I made plans to catch up with my friend, and knowing her it’ll last for a while,” you grinned sheepishly, explaining why you couldn't spend the night with her and easing any worries she might have formed in her head over the late hours of the night.

“Oh, I see, say hi to her for me,” Jenna told you and pulled you into a quick hug. “Sleep well, Y/N,” she whispered.

“You too,” you whispered back and you parted ways for the night.

~X~

To be honest, you were dreading the call you were about to make. It's been two weeks since you last talked to Barbara and saying she was a bit of a needy friend would be an understatement, not that you had it in you to be bothered by it, in fact you were certain a huge reason for that neediness was the way you sometimes could get. Scratch that, the way you often got these past few years. This time though, in your defense, you really were quite busy between filming and everything happening with Jenna, so this time it wasn’t your regular stupor preventing you from fulfilling your best friend duties as Barbara called them.

You took a deep breath, sucked it up, and called her as you paced around the room hoping you would not hear her yelling at you right away.

You were hoping for too much.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Barbara roared, forcing you to move the phone away from your ear and wince because of how loud she was.

“I'm sorry I was just-“ you tried to apologize and get her to stop trying to make you lose your hearing.

She wasn’t having any of it though. “No excuses! Do you know how much I worry about you, asshole?! I damn near called Hugh and I know you've been in touch with him at least through texts!” Well, she wasn't wrong, you really were in touch with Hugh, through texts, which was also the way you kept in touch with Barbara. You just didn't find the time to call her and for Barbara that was an unusual deprivation of contact and close to unforgivable.

“Barb, come on, we’ll make up for the lost time, I promise. Just two more weeks and we'll meet up and catch up and you'll tell me all the things I missed,” you assured her. You would normally get annoyed over someone being like this, almost demanding. You appreciated being left alone when you needed it, and Barbara just wouldn’t let you be on your own. Still, you really couldn't be annoyed with her. If there was anyone other than Hugh that actually knew you, it was Barbara and as much as you depended on her she depended on you just as much and now suddenly you couldn't be there for her for almost a month and a half.

And you still had two weeks until you would meet up.

“I know. I just miss being able to go to see you,” she complained, her voice turning more whiny and you knew exactly what was coming, and it brought a smile to your face. “I want to bother you and steal all your food,” she sighed as she calmed down and you could picture her just drawing lines on some paper she had lying around. That was the thing with Barbara she had short fuse but she would also calm down ridiculously fast as long as the reason behind her anger wasn't justified she was easy to talk down, especially when it came to you and even more so after what happened a few years ago.

“You'll get to raid my fridge, again,” you put great emphasis on the word ‘again’ “Don't worry about it,” you sounded annoyed but you both knew that wasn't the case. As much as you loved filming again and as much as you acknowledged the deep, precious bond with Jenna you still missed your best friend, and nothing could change that.

Barbara laughed at that. “So how are things on the set? Tell me all about it, are there any girls I should know about?” she really couldn’t help herself. Well, at least things probably couldn’t get worse. “How are things with Jenna?” you really should know better by now. There it was, the Barbara special… The teasing! The incessant need to know everything about your love life! The love life that was, granted, pretty much nonexistent before this and it was still nonexistent because there was nothing but your crush on Jenna going between the two of you.

You could still tell you made a mistake when you naively shared with Barbara that you have grown fairly fond of your co-star. Still, you sighed, there was no going back now. “I’m in trouble, Barb, I’m in deep trouble,” you sighed, accepting that you had no control over your feelings for Jenna. After all, the taste of her lips would definitely keep reminding you of the short, but sweet, kiss you shared on set for a long time, and you’d be remembering the feel of her soft lips against your own for even longer.

“Hell yeah! Get the girl Y/N!” Barbara cheered way too loudly and you just knew she was pumping her fist up in the air.

The nerve of her. “Fucking shut up,” you groaned, dropping onto your bed and resigning yourself to more teasing as Barbara laughed.

~X~

Tomorrow morning and exactly two weeks before the filming was scheduled to end you came back from breakfast to see your phone lighting up on the bedside table. So, that’s where you forgot it. You raised an eyebrow, not expecting anyone to text you this early. As far as you knew, Barbara would still be asleep, and Hugh was a few hours behind you, so it was still in the middle of the night for him. And it probably wasn't any one of your co-stars because you just saw all of them. You walked over to the bedside table and glanced at your phone and your blood immediately froze.

“I've got an event next week. I can pick you up next Saturday and bring you back to the set on Monday morning.”

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you looked at the message. The event, well that was one way to put it. You could feel the itching to go, the desire to just let go, to forget everything and focus on just one simple task. You've been working out for years and you didn’t stop back when filming started, you spent damn near every day at the gym for at least an hour oftentimes more. You explained it by saying you were just trying to stay in shape, especially since you still had the job at the gym to come back to and it would be irresponsible to get out of shape.

But you knew the truth.

It wasn't staying in shape. It was just the only way you knew how to escape from what you still felt deep down. So, your reply was quick, sent without much thinking, without reconsidering the short or long-term consequences of those actions, and you especially didn’t consider how something like that could affect the movie or your career. Short-term consequences were easy to deal with. Those were your days off anyway, so nothing would happen. “I'm in,” you answered and tossed the phone to your bed ready to just go to the gym. You needed to put extra effort into preparing for… the event.

~X~

Somehow there was a feeling of dread Jenna couldn't explain, a restless feeling keeping her awake and filling her with anxiety. She had a long night doing the shooting, you all did and she intended to go to sleep to spend the evening taking a nap and resting, especially seeing as her insomnia was getting worse. You helped, of course, at least as much as Jenna would let you. Every time she turned to you for help she slept better because you would either come to her room and stay with her until she fell asleep or you would just talk on the phone and she got into a comfortable with the way things were between you. Deep down she knew it couldn’t be maintained, that she couldn't rely on you every night. You needed rest as well and she felt guilty for making her insomnia your problem.

Tonight was different. Tonight it wasn't just her insomnia keeping her awake. Tonight there was that sense of dread, that sense that if she didn't do something, anything, that something awful would happen and she didn't even know what it was. She didn't know what to do, or what it was related to, she knew nothing other than the fact that something did not feel right.

So, Jenna turned in her bed, desperately trying to keep her eyes closed so she might fall asleep. It was just her being paranoid, she was sure of it. She was just overthinking things that she honestly couldn't even define. If you or Melissa asked her what was wrong she wouldn't have an answer, she would just tell you that she had a bad feeling, and it infuriated her that she was feeling like this without having a logical explanation for it.

“Fuck it!” at this rate she wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon and it was still half past seven so she figured she could drop by your room and see if you wanted to watch a movie or something. She got up, determined to get her mind off whatever was tormenting her and picked out a rather cute red shirt and denim shorts and changed out of her pajamas. Maybe she could get you to wear your glasses for the movie, that would make the restless day better, because you, annoyingly if she could say so, still didn’t wear your glasses around her as often as she would like you to.

She didn't even send you a message as a warning, she just got out of her room and marched to your door and knocked on your doors. “One minute,” she heard you saying from behind the doors and she felt her heart beating just a bit faster, which was ridiculous because just seeing you wasn't supposed to have this kind of an effect on her. Yet here she was probably ready to just admit this was not just a crush and that she was actually in love. You opened the door and seemed to freeze when you saw her which was an unusual reaction coming from you. What was even stranger was how you looked, wearing a hoodie and worn out boots and tracksuit pants, as if you were trying to disappear in the crowd. “Jen,” you looked like a deer caught in the headlights and there was a guilty look in your eyes. That same dread that consumed Jenna entirely the whole day came back full force and she couldn't explain why.

“Hey, I was thinking if you wanted to hang out, maybe watch a movie or chill out together? Just the two of us? I mean it's fine if you don't have the time or have other plans-“ and she just noticed a backpack hanging from your shoulder, and that dread just increased for a reason she couldn’t even start to explain. Just seeing that backpack made her anxiety spike up. “Did- where are you- I mean are you going anywhere?” she stammered, now feeling unsure of herself. “You didn't mention going to see your family,” she missed the way you frowned just for a moment. “Or anyone and what's with the bag?” She was rambling not really giving you a moment to reply and worst of all the guilt on your face just became more pronounced the more she talked.

“I-“ you began but then just closed your mouth and ran your fingers through your hair. What did she just interrupt? Were you about to leave?

No, that much was obvious.

But there was something heavy in the air, something that made her worry more than she should, something deep down telling her not to back down.

“Hey, talk to me,” she reached up, almost timidly, and touched your cheek, watching as you swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn’t reject her touch, and she felt bolder, instead of just touching your cheek she began cradling it. This time she felt you flinching before you accepted her touch, leaning into it, she watched you as you took a deep breath. Your eyes were closed from the moment she touched your cheek, but even with that she could see, or feel, the battle raging within you as you struggled between staying with her and going wherever you were about to go. So, she did her best to make the decision easier for you. “Stay with me. Please, Y/N,” and as if those words were enough, as if they were all you needed to hear, you reached up and took hold of her hand and pulled her in, hugging her firmly almost desperately holding onto her shirt.

“I'm staying,” you whispered, burying your face in the crook of her neck and Jenna found herself holding on to you just as firmly as you were holding on to her. That dread she felt earlier slowly began dissipating and she didn't know what she prevented, but she just felt like it was the best decision she could have made. Especially when you definitely flinched when you heard your phone ringing. For a moment she thought you would ignore it, but you let out an exhausted, broken sigh, damn near shattering her heart. “Yeah, I need to take this. Just give me a moment,” she could feel you putting so much effort just to pull away from her and then even more effort to close the door

Despite the closed doors Jenna could still hear the bits of the conversation as she stood there, her back pressed against the wall next to your doors. The murmurs of ‘I'm not coming’ and ‘I'm not arguing with you about this, I'm not coming’ made her instinctively hug herself. She felt cold all of a sudden, where were you about to go? What did she stop you from doing?

It would take months for her to figure it out and when she did it threatened to almost ruin what you built up until that point.

You came out of the room, in different clothes, now wearing a simple shirt and pajama pants and she immediately took your hand and pulled you along to her room, afraid that if she didn’t, she would just ask you where you were about to go. She looked back and saw you smiling. The smile on your face was natural not forced at all, but she could see pain hidden deep inside you and her heart broke because she could already tell you wouldn’t talk to her about this.

~X~

The early November cold seeped into her room but that wasn't the reason why about halfway through ‘The Silence of the Lambs’ she ended up wrapping her arms around you and lowering her head on your chest. That feeling of dread may have disappeared, but another feeling took its place and the only thought running through Jenna’s mind was ‘Don't let go. No matter what, don't let go.’ So, she didn't let go, even when you're raised an eyebrow at the sudden display of affection.

You've both seen the movie before, so she didn't feel any guilt for taking your attention away from it. “Y/N,” she said your name gently, aware that she now had your undivided attention. “Where were you going to go?” she asked, softly whispering the words as if saying them any louder would scare you away and convince you not to tell her anything.

You remained silent, the image of an open honest person that captured her heart wavered for a moment and then you looked away. “Just for a walk, don't worry about it,” it was so obviously a lie, and she could see you meant for her to see through it. Nonetheless the message was clear. Don’t ask more questions. You would not answer. You would not tell her the truth even if it would chase away her worries, even if it would show her you were willing to tell her anything. You just wanted to end the conversation and the obvious lie was an easy way to show Jenna it didn’t matter how many times she asked.

“OK,” she let the conversation end, but she doesn't let go of you, she just held tighter. And despite the uneasiness of the realization she just had, she still felt comfortable. It still felt so easy to be with you, and near the end of the movie she fell asleep in your arms.

Jenna didn’t wake up until you moved underneath her and when she opened her eyes, she saw the Sun was just starting to rise. “Hey, sorry I woke you up, I should go before someone catches me here,” you said and there it was, that gentle tone of your voice, that comforting attitude you had and she just now realized it was missing all night long yesterday but somehow throughout the night you got it back.

That was a relief. “Sorry, that probably wasn't the most comfortable position to sleep in,” Jenna laughed and you grinned, just shrugging as if to tell her you were perfectly fine with a bit of discomfort. Slowly, a bit too hesitantly, she let you go and moved to lie down on her bed properly and not halfway on top of you. You sat up and stretched a bit and she watched you, tense, but more relaxed than you were while you were watching the movie last night. And you looked like you rested enough, like you slept well. By now Jenna knew exactly how you looked when you didn’t get enough sleep and it wasn’t this. It was close, you clearly had a lot on your mind last night, but you slept well, and it made her happy to know that.

All of a sudden you turned and looked at her and she could see the mix of emotions in your eyes, but before she could speak you leaned over her and caressed her cheek. Jenna’s breath hitched as she looked you in the eyes. “Y/N,” she whispered your name.

“Sorry about last night. About lying, about not telling you where I was supposed to go,” you paused, your jaw clenching as you picked words, and she gave you a moment. “I still won't tell you, it doesn't matter anyway. But thank you for stopping me,” you leaned closer and for a moment she thought you’d kiss her, and she leaned forward, only to feel just your forehead pressing against hers. Jenna swallowed the lump in her throat, her shaky breath mingling with your own. “Thank you for holding on to me,” there was so much in that line she couldn't understand, she simply didn't have all the pieces of the puzzle. Yet the raw emotion in your voice told her absolutely everything she needed to know. And right then and there she just made a decision that no matter how difficult it could possibly get that she would find a way to overcome whatever was going on with you.

She almost said she was just returning the favor, almost alluding to the night you spent with her after her panic attack. Yet again instinctual stopped her, something similar to what drove her to you last night and instead she just said: “I'll hold on to you anytime you need,” it was a ridiculous promise one that could not be maintained, and you both knew it. First of all you lived in different states, not to mention all the jobs both of you would take that would take you to the entirely different corners of the world. She could not hold you anytime you wanted or needed it. Even so the deeper promise remained, a promise that she was with you and that she planned on staying with you.

Your breath hitched but you recovered a lot quicker than Jenna did. You nodded, unable to properly put into words how much her promise meant to you, but she could tell. You reluctantly pulled away, leaving her in her room as you slipped back into your own, just to avoid anyone from the cast knowing you spent the night with Jenna in her bed.

~X~

The filming was coming to a close, just a few days were left now, almost two months you spent in North Carolina were something else. You came into this project trying to get back into acting after Logan. You began working on it feeling the pressure of Logan almost weighing you down. Yet now you were grappling with entirely different feelings. You ended up coming to the rooftop to watch the sunset on the last Monday of the filming, just soaking it all in. To think if things were just a bit different, if you left a few minutes earlier now you’d be coming back to the hotel this morning instead of waking up in your room to open Instagram messages between you and Jenna.

Jenna…

She stopped you. She was the first person to actually stop you.

“Hey there stranger,” you heard Mikey saying as she walked up to you, breaking you out of your thoughts and for a moment taking your mind off just what Jenna stopping you as easily as she did meant for you.

You pushed the thoughts further away, not wanting to be vulnerable around another person, no matter how cool Mikey was. You grinned, patting the spot next to you. “Stranger? Already?” you laughed and leaned back as she sat down on the still warm concrete rooftop.

She rolled her eyes. “Can’t say you made a strong impression,” she teased you, though you spent several weekends cooking together. Funny how your characters hated one another yet the two of you kind of clicked.

You smirked at that. “Well, not all of us can crash a bicycle,” you joked now, but the entire cast was worried when her and Jasmin crashed. Mikey took the fall harder, as her knee still ached occasionally, but she was fine.

She jokingly slapped your shoulder. “Jerk,” she looked back when the doors opened. “Hey, Jenna!”

“Oh, hey,” Jenna sounded genuinely surprised as she slowly approached you and Mikey. The headphones hung around her neck and if she was weak to seeing you wearing glasses the same could be said for you regarding her wearing headphones around her neck. There was just something about seeing her like that, and you were utterly incapable of keeping your heart from beating faster.

“Really, I’m the stranger?” you said to Mikey, causing her to snicker, but your eyes were on Jenna, and like many times before you found it hard to look away. The soft colors of the sunset made her look even more beautiful, if that was even possible.

“Did you hear anything I said?” Mikey elbowed your side, not even trying to be subtle about it.

“You’ll live, stranger,” you rolled your eyes and reached out to Jenna. “Want to join us?” you offered, hopeful, and wanting, no needing, to use the time you had left working together as well as you could.

Jenna looked at you almost a bit hesitant to accept, but eventually she focused on your outstretched hand and she grinned a bit. “What the hell,” she sat down right next to you and leaned against your side, pretty much pulling your arm around her. Your heart hammered in your chest, sure, you figured you both just got so used to being physically close between the scenes you had together and the every other time you spent close, but it still felt so damn good to be this close to her. You grinned when your eyes met. “It's a bit cold,” Jenna said she with a small and adorable blush on her face.

“Sure, that's all it is,” Mikey laughed clearly teasing Jenna. “But it is getting cold. Y/N, how about you just bring us some hot chocolate?” this time her attention turned to you and you just stared blankly. Was she really going to make you get up? Right now? When Jenna just got here?

“Seriously now? I just got comfortable, go get it yourself if you're so eager to drink it,” you rolled your eyes suddenly reminded of Barbara especially when Mikey gave you those puppy eyes that honestly looked the best on Jenna.

Fuck. You really were in trouble. And you had no right to be in it after what happened on Saturday night.

“Come on! I wanna talk to your girl!” Mikey pointed at Jenna.

“Not my girl/Not her girl!” you and Jenna denied at the same time and you hated how hot your face felt. It only got worse when Mikey smirked at the two of you.

“Really? So prove it, go bring us some hot chocolate,” you really couldn't get out of that could you? You huffed and reluctantly pulled away from Jenna. How was bringing hot chocolate going to prove anything?

Dumb excuses…

“Fine, fine, I'm going to get some hot chocolate, just stop teasing,” you grumbled and stood up. Did you and Jenna really look like there was something going on between you? You were just really good friends! Sure, you had feelings for her but nothing happened between you!

~X~

Jenna felt a bit squirmish, after all Mikey was rather perceptive and she could tell the slightly older girl was catching on to Jenna’s feelings. “There really isn't anything going on between me and Y/N,” perhaps the pout on her face was giving it away or perhaps she really was that obvious when it came to her feelings for you.

To her surprise Mikey shrugged as if she wasn’t shocked by Jenna’s denial. “Oh, I know. You wouldn't look so jealous if the two of you were together.”

Jenna turn around so quickly she actually got a bit dizzy “I'm not-“ she quickly tried to deny it.

“Hush! I've seen how you looked at that barista flirting with Y/N, or at me just now because I was alone with her in such romantic circumstances,” yet Mikey didn’t sound even slightly offended as she showed around at the sunset and the rooftop and yeah, maybe it did seem a bit more romantic than Jenna would dare to admit. “Also, you missed how she looked at you. You're both so whipped it's almost sickeningly sweet. She looks at you like you are the center of the universe,” there were no intentions behind those words, Mikey didn’t look at you that way, she was simply saying what she noticed. Mikey was ridiculously cool and Jenna couldn't help but admire her admired bold and strong approach Mikey took to everything she was doing, but she didn’t appreciate that same approach being taken regarding her own feelings towards you.

Besides she thought she would have this conversation with Melissa if she really had to have it with anyone on the cast. “She doesn't look at me like that,” Jenna denied it as she looked down between her feet remembering how you lied to her two nights ago. You apologized, sure, but the lie remained and you never told her where you were really about to go. It really wasn’t her business or right to demand to know, but there was a part of her that believed all the moments you shared gave her the right to ask and know the answer. Would you really be looking at her the way Mikey described if you couldn't even open up to her?

“Yeah, so how come she spent so many nights with you,” Mikey asked so casually and Jenna felt like her heart was about to explode with how fast it was beating.

“What?” she managed to ask, her words barely louder than a whisper as her brain went into overdrive.

“I heard you laughing, mostly. I know there is nothing going on, but I also know you spend nights together. The walls are ridiculously thin, I'm sure Melissa knows too but I also think she knew beforehand as well,” this was Jenna’s worst nightmare. She spent weeks thinking the two of you were keeping your late night meetings a secret yet here she was, learning they weren’t so secret after all.

How did she never hear Amber or Melissa?

Oh, right. The answer was around her neck…

There were so many implications in what Mikey said Jenna felt like her overthinking mind couldn’t keep up with all of them. The walls were thin so it confirmed to Mikey and quite possibly Melissa that you have spent a lot of time with Jenna in her room. And the thin walls confirmed to Mikey, and possibly Melissa as well, that you and Jenna did not actually get together, at least in a more intimate way. Jenna couldn't remember the last time she got this red and embarrassed and desperate for the ground to swallow her whole. She never felt this exposed in her entire life.

“Sorry,” well what else was she supposed to say besides just apologize for keeping Mikey awake,

“No, it's OK. You never kept me awake, you weren't that loud. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret and let you confess instead of spilling the beans to your, sorry Tara’s, guard dog,” Mikey was having too much fun with this if that shit eating grin was anything to go by.

Jenna just groaned, hoping you wouldn’t com back right away, because she wasn’t sure how she could look you in the eyes after this.

~X~

This was it. One last scene, the scene that was moved back quite a bit, actually, and the movie would be done, well, at least your part of the job.

Originally you were supposed to film this scene while Emma was still here, but when you were getting ready to film it the equipment failed somehow. You couldn't really remember what it was. Either the lighting wasn't good, or something was wrong with the camera, or something else entirely, and it was late so you just moved it to another day. And that another day just kept being pushed back and back and now here you are on the final day of the shooting Scream filming the scene where Gale calls your character to ask her why they were all coming back to Woodsboro.

“OK everyone let's wrap this movie up!” Tyler instructed as you and Jenna got in your positions, which was in the bed with Jenna acting like she was asleep on top of you with both of you embracing one another as much as the supposed wounds your characters took could allow.

And then it happened again. The scene was probably cursed or something.

“Sir,” one of men on the filming crew approached Tyler almost timidly. “The mic isn't working, I just sent Rick to get another one,” you all heard it loud and clear and the silence that engulfed the room was so loud, so consuming and ridiculous you almost laughed. There were only a handful of times in your life where the phrase ‘so quiet you could hear the pin drop’ could fit to the situation as good as it did right now. And neither you or Jenna dared to say a single word. In fact Jenna just didn't move at all and you figured you should probably follow her example so you didn't move either just closed your eyes trying to ignore the absolutes ridiculousness of this situation

At least Matt and Tyler weren't mad about it as they just began laughing about the absurdity of everything that was happening.

The room lit up and you saw people walking around keeping the set ready for the continuation but it didn't matter you barely paid attention to them. The only thing you paid attention to the was the girl in your arms.

You looked at Jenna, sleeping there, you looked at her peaceful face, at the freckles covering her cheeks, her hair, her lips, you felt the subtle squeeze of her arms around your waist and listened to the soft sound of her breathing. Her grip on you was soft and barely there but in a way unyielding and you were reminded of that night one week ago when she kept you from going to- from leaving the hotel.

You resisted the urge touch her cheek, to hold her closer, to tell her how you felt because deep down you were afraid. You had to stop going to those events. What a laughable way to call underground fighting. Unless you properly stopped you had no right to tell her anything about how you felt. As it was you were a mess, and she did not deserve to deal with that. So, you promised yourself you would just keep quiet.

When the equipment was finally fixed you barely realized about half an hour had passed and you did not want to delay the filming anymore, so you gently nudged Jenna until she woke from her slumber.

“Hey, sorry I didn't mean to fall asleep, I’ve just been tired lately,” she apologized and probably by accident snuggled closer to you.

“It's OK, you didn't miss anything,” you said, ignoring how intimate this entire thing between you and Jenna felt. You needed to fix yourself before addressing that. Nearly going and participating in a fight proved it to you.

A/N: So, this was supposed to go a bit further down the timeline, Hugh was supposed to show up, there were supposed to be talks of future projects, and set up Reader meeting Jenna’s family, but you know what, I think this is a good cliffhanger. And it was still longer than 6k, so, there’s that.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501 @osnapitzmel1 @belatrixdragon @ijustlovemaths

@niqmandu @justspance @mirage018

Masterlist / First Part / Previous part

#jenna ortega x female reader #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 21 hours ago

Note

Obvs it wouldn't happen because imprints don't work that way, but what if Jacob imprinted on CARLISLE?

You're hilarious, anon, that's what you are.

Alright, let's do this.

Jacob Imprints on Carlisle Cullen: A Timeline

The thing is, Jacob doesn't notice for a fairly long time. Remember that Jacob hardly ever meets any of the Cullens until fairly late in the series. In Twilight and New Moon, before shifting, he was extremely embarrassed by his father's superstitious attitude that's so bad it's to the point where he's told the entire tribe that none of them are to go to Forks hospital (which as the closest hospital in a rural area, and one with a now very qualified surgeon that they won't otherwise be able to get to for several hours, this is... a very extreme choice that speaks to just how seriously the Quileute view the Cullen problem).

Jacob meets Edward once in Twilight, at a distance, when he tells Bella at Prom "So... my dad told me to break up with your vampire boyfriend and that the spooky tribe will be watching you :/ ah ha ha ha ha ha".

And then the Cullens are gone until the end of New Moon, at which point Jacob only runs into Carlisle Cullen in Eclipse when the shapeshifters and the Cullens have agreed to join forces to stop the newborn army and to have their solitary training session where they take this seriously.

The Cullens Jacob gets to have lovely interactions with beforehand are Alice at the end of New Moon (in which Alice has some choice words) and Edward who is... Edward.

But not the others.

(The movies where the Cullens and wolves run into each other hunting Victoria, and get into a catfight, is just the movies and was an entirely ridiculous scene.)

What this means is that we've gone through all of Twilight, New Moon, and most of Eclipse. Jacob is pining after Bella, in this torrid love triangle with Edward the blood sucking demon as his rival, has kissed Bella, and has spent an entire novel trying to convince Bella that she's in love with him and "also, don't become a vampire" without much luck on either front.

And now, the worst thing in the world happens.

The Moment

Very reluctantly, the Cullens and shapeshifters have both agreed that the threat is now so large that neither of them can contain it as an individual group. The Cullens have been rebuffed by the Denali who only agreed to help if they got the chance to commit genocide/have their revenge for the death of Laurent.

The shapeshifters, on the other side, hear that a horde of vampires the size of which they have never encountered before (when they're having issues dealing with just one, only one, vampire) is going to descend upon the town of Forks and, with extreme sadness, agree to a) help out the Cullens b) agree that they need the Cullens help on this one.

So, they get this training session (in which Bella shows up because... unclear why she's there, she really shouldn't have been there/really made the impression that they were flaunting the Bride of Dracula in the shapeshifter's faces) and the Cullens all watch as the wolves show up, more than they had ever suspected, Bella oohs over what a big red wolf Jacob is and--

I imagine they freeze, because they were wolves at the time, so they were all in the wolfy hive mind. This means every single one of them knows the second Jacob imprints and get to process it along with him.

Suddenly, Carlisle Cullen is Jacob's gravity, his reason for existence, his everything.

And he's a vampire.

Who is 300 years old. And physically twenty-three years old.

And he's married.

And Edward is right there hearing every thought the hive mind is having.

I imagine Emmett warily asks Edward what's going on. Is everything okay, or are they all about to kill each other and the treaty's off? Edward can't answer because. No. No.

"Seriously, Edward," I imagine Rosalie says, "What's happening?"

(Alice sure wishes she could see what was going on right now, at all, she sure wishes she could help here. Man, it would be great if she could use her gift and wasn't BLOCKED BY FUCKING WOLVES. WOULDN'T THAT BE GREAT?! WOULDN'T IT BE GREAT IF SHE HAD VISIONS THAT COULD TELL HER WHAT'S GOING ON RIGHT NOW?!)

The wolves don't want to answer either as none of them want to admit this is happening (except for Jacob who's still too brain scrambled to react yet).

Jacob, I imagine breaks first. He shifts (and he is... sadly... naked... for this...) and runs over to Carlisle Cullen, the center of his new existence, and happily explains that his universe has just turned on its head and whatever Carlisle Cullen needs from him, JACOB IS THERE, MAN.

Carlisle... doesn't... need... anything...

He's also very confused and alarmed. And can Jacob please put on his clothes?

Edward, reluctantly, explains to his father that Jacob has just er imprinted on him. It's a thing. No, it doesn't necessarily mean romantic love (probably) but Jacob is now Carlisle's.... person. But Jacob's clearly wrong because Carlisle is married and he doesn't need a new son or a friend or anything.

HE HAS HIS FAMILY.

Bella, meanwhile, is shocked, shocked and--confused--and--hurt. Was Jacob gay/bisexual this whole time? But no, Edward just said it didn't have to be romantic. But Bella's also had it explained to her that the imprinter is supposed to be the most important person in the imprintee's life. Sam left Leah so that he could marry Emily when he imprinted on her, and even if it is platonic--isn't Bella supposed to be Jacob's best friend? Wasn't he just telling her how in love with her he was? Hasn't he been the sun in her life?

But because of this single second of imprinting, from a corner Bella never expected... that's done now. Jacob won't be in love with her anymore, all that talk of Bella being in love with him won't matter at all, they'll be less close friends at most and...

And maybe that's a good thing? She's with Edward, she's marrying Edward in a few weeks, she wants to be with Edward. If Jacob gives up, or imprints, then they can stay the way they are without Jacob wanting her to give up on Edward.

It's just that Jacob's most important person will be Edward's vampire dad...

I imagine Sam shifts at this point as... the situation has changed a bit. And tries to get Jacob to calm down and, "We need to discuss this, Jacob" but Jacob isn't having it as the most important person in his life is standing there, staring at him, and clearly wants nothing to do with him.

And Jacob realizes--there's not any room for him. The man has a wife, he has children, WHAT IS JACOB SUPPOSED TO DO?! YOU NEED A BEST FRIEND, DOC?!

Everyone would really love to call off this training session by this point but... that vampire army is coming and they're running out of time.

They have to do this.

They do a speed run and then rush back to their prospective homes where they grill Edward (who has the wonders of spying telepathy) about what the fuck imprinting means and what's happening.

The shapeshifters go home to be extremely upset and try to reason with Jacob who... given how he acted in canon with Renesmee, probably runs to the Cullen's house screaming "CARLISSSSSSSSSSSSSSLE" out of terror that they'll leave in the middle of the night because of this.

Jacob immediately plots how he can stop the Cullens/Carlisle from leaving Forks. In this case, showing Charlie his wolf form would do nothing, as Bella's not the one turned and in theory they could just leave her behind and run if Jacob outed them. Similarly, getting Bella to end up with him and not turn would mean the Cullens would just vamoose.

Jacob concludes, in a moment of horror, the only way to guarantee the Cullens stay is if Bella and Edward get together and then Bella has to stay. Bella's what's connecting them to Forks, what's keeping them from disappearing, even what drew them back in the first place.

And he's right to be concerned as the Cullens are discussing just this. They have to stay through this newborn fight, but then... if it weren't for Bella they'd be leaving as quickly as possible and even then... maybe Carlisle and Esme should just go on ahead? Edward and Bella, do you have to get married right here in Forks/invite everyone from Forks?

Unfortunately, due to that wedding and the pesky detail of inviting Bella's friends and relatives, they really are stuck for at least a few weeks, until Bella and Edward can go off to college.

Jacob's Plan

Jacob then has a few short weeks to convince Carlisle Cullen that he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, he totally needs Jacob in his life, and pffff wife shmife.

So, Jacob does things like just... show up at the Cullen house. He just shows up. And at the hospital, and everywhere, trying to prove how cool he is to Carlisle who is just sad about all of this. He's so sad.

There has been much querying in both parties of "are we sure there isn't a way to get rid of this?" and both the Cullens and shapeshifters had concluded "no, not really, we don't even understand what the fuck this is".

And while Carlisle really wants to just up and leave... it sounds like he'd cause Jaocb mental anguish unheard of for the rst of his existence if he doesn't throw him some bone.

"We can go... fishing..."

(Bella was right in that Jacob has dropped her like it's hot. She hasn't seen him since the training.)

At the battle, instead of guarding Bella's tent in the night, Jacob insists on being where the rest of the Cullens are. Yeah yeah, Edward, have fun with wifey.

(This is not fun as Bella nearly freezes to death in the tent, and as there's no Jacob to keep her warm, Edward just has to sit there, panicking, as he sadly wishes he could warm Bella up himself buT hE's a MonStEr)

There is no "kiss me or I'll kill myself", Bella doesn't even see Jacob when the fighting happens or afterwards. I imagine Jacob's still hurt, (and gets quality time with Dr. Cullen and morphine as he recovers, yay!) and Bella... barely gets to see him then either.

At least Edward's upset about this too and annoyed, if for very different reasons.

Bella finds herself just... ending up with Edward, with no closure on how that Jacob thing would have gone if it would have gone everywhere. Jacob's not even promising to never speak to her again/kill her on sight anymore, he doesn't even seem to care about vampirism as all he wants to do is hang out with Carlisle Cullen, which is.... good? This is good? Is this good?

Jacob doesn't run out of town before the wedding, he's right there, the whole time, hanging out with Carlisle (who is gently trying to tell Jacob that, you know, the Cullens will have to leave this place and your whole family is here so you should... try... to get over this or be... um... long distance).

When Bella becomes pregnant, Jacob only cares that this is clearly stressing Carlisle out who is now supposed to figure out how to birth her demon, alien, horrifying spawn. Gosh, Bella.

(Bella misses her best friend).

And...

Damn.

Basically the rest of the series happens, as Jacob still protects pregnant Bella as he has to protect Carlisle, except that Jacob is imprinted on Vampire Dad and Bella's trying to have a very brave face about this.

SHE AND JACOB ARE STILL FRIENDS! (He just doesn't talk to her anymore...)

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #jacob black #carlisle cullen #bella swan #meta #headcanon #opinion

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seitmai · 2 days ago

Text

As always, many thoughts

“Mama be mad?” His brows furrow as he starts bouncing around even more. Andy knows he has moments before Suede has an accident and gets upset for doing so.

🥺🥺🥺

“Hands, Suede,” Andy’s voice is soft, but demanding. It’s not a question, it’s what Suede has to do. “Ugh,” groaning, he gets on the stool, grunting as he reaches for the soap.

Kids and washing hands, either they love it and do it excessively or only when you remind them 😅

“Pies,” pineapples. Close enough. “NaNa, my ove oo,” he lays his head on Andy’s chest, snuggling in a bit tighter. He always tells fibs about being sleepy. Sleepy Suede, is more cuddly loving Suede. “I love you, too, buddy. You ready to watch some Bluey?”

🥹🥰🥹🥰

This is the sight you’ve always wanted to see; a sticky-faced little boy snuggled up against his dad’s chest, while both of them are passed out. The comfort that Suede feels with Andy matches the way he feels about you. You have no fears when he’s with Andy.

What a sight 🥹🥰

He makes your ovaries ache. Seeing how good he is with children that aren’t his, you know this man deserves someone of his blood. You don’t know how, but you’ll make it happen.

Understandable

You didn’t want to travel for Christmas, but Andy had the time off for Thanksgivng. You had the time off. You missed your family, and wanted them to see Andy with your babies. Let them see how much the kids have grown, and also a grownup Andy. Your mom obsessively talked about him. Even told you on your wedding day you should try and find Andy again because you were making a mistake. Mom’s always know best. And your mom definitely knew.

Mom was/is definitely not a Scott fan 😅

“I called Andy daddy,” she sighs, and finally looks up at you. You meet her with a smile on your face. You and Andy hadn’t found the time or the way to bring up that comment. “It was at donuts for dad, and I just think I got confused. My head was all mushy, and I didn’t mean it. But I liked having him there, and showing my room. You’re the only one that’s seen it.”

She is worrying so much 🥺

Her face falls to sadness, and you lay down the knife. Walking around the counter island to hug her, “Sweet girl, Andy and I aren’t mad.” “But what about my daddy? Are you going to tell him?” You weren’t. But eventually if Audrey kept feeling comfortable with Andy, and letting that title slip, he would know.

Poor thing is so stressed out about it 🥺

“What about daddy?” She pouts. No matter what, this little girl adores her dad, and she’s already over concerned about Scott’s opinion. “Won’t he be mad?” “We don’t have to tell daddy if you don’t want to. Daddy never has to know. I don’t want you to stress about this. You’re four, almost five,” Scott is going to keep on and turn your precious child into a neurotic clam.

💔💔💔

A finger taps on her chin, humming so sweetly while she thinks. “Can we go to the aquarium, and soft play, and then pizza, and then go to a movie?” “I think that sounds like a magical day. Who do you want to go?” “Our family,” you want to squeeze her so tight. Her sweetness comes out of her, and you need to preserve these little moments. “You, and me, and Suedey, and Andy,” you nod your head.

A magical and fun day with the family 🥰

“Audrey, you are the cutest, most sweetest little girl I’ve ever met, you know that?” “Yes, I do,” she gives you a little giggle, returning to her PlayDoh.

Maybe if my boyfriend didn’t walk around the damn house with his dick swinging around,” he grimaces at the word boyfriend and the way you emphasized it. “Get hard!” “Make me,” you’re a bit irritated at him, but not enough to refuse making him hard. You sink to your knees, and take his hardening cock into your hand. You kiss over his member. Looking up at him with the sweetest face that you can muster. You’re not sweet. You’re a goddamn whore for Andy Barber.

🤭🤭🤭

“You just said you were horny, so I’m going to fuck you, and then we can talk about everything else like adults.”

Sounds like a great plan to me 🤷🏻‍♀️

“No. No, they weren’t. Your favorite ones are those pink ones. They cover your full ass, and there’s something about the way they just don’t move on your body, so you’re not tugging them around all day,” you really gawk at him. He’s right. “And when we sleep, your ass cheeks hang out just the tiniest bit and I want to bite each one. So not only are they comfortable on you, they look amazing on, or on the floor.”

I'm blushing just reading this

“Everything!” He stalls his movements, before leaning over you. His hands in a fist to hold his weight off you just enough. But you want to feel him on you. You want to feel that slight pressure and weight, and know that he’s there, “Everything. I don’t know how to explain it, and I don’t know how to talk about it. I spent so many years sucking up my problems because I didn’t have a real job, and he did. You don’t want to hear about my problems because you’re busier than me.” “I do,” you shake your head no, but Andy grips onto your chin tightly. His hips slowly push and pull him out of your warmth. You really are a damn teenager. Can’t have an adult conversation without needing your boyfriend-fiancé’s cock inside of you, and all you can do is cry and shake your head. “Doe, I want to hear everything. We are partners. When you don’t feel well, I don't feel well. I want you to be happy because that makes my days better.”

🥰🥰🥰

“I did. That’s what I want. I want to kiss away all your tears, and I want us to be okay. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me,” tears steadily flow down your face, and he keeps kissing over your cheeks, and it doesn’t help. Except those tears stop hurting so much. You’re now crying because you’re so happy with the right partner. “Honey, I love you.”

He's so dreamy 😍

“She’s terrified of clowns, and characters in costumes,” she likes her characters 2D. “She’s not over that yet?” “Are you over your fear of sharks?” Scott huffs.

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

You lift up on your elbows, throwing all caution to the wind when you grab Andy’s ass, and pull him deeper into you. You wink at your fiance. “Do you think he doesn’t know the disdain that you have for him? How you won’t even spend the goddamn time to help him pee in the potty while he’s there? Do you think Audrey doesn’t tell me about the giggling you and Taylor did when he cried because he had an accident that smelled. Shit stinks, you asshole. Even your precious Taylor’s. So either you have a party that Suede can fully be a part of, or don’t bother throwing a party that she doesn’t even want anyways.”

Let it all out 👏🏻

“And then my postpartum depression cramped your sex life. And then our son became the number one man in my life. And then our son was sick all the time. You never even tried to connect with him. You never even noticed that I was drowning. All you cared about was getting your dick wet. So my advice to you is to make sure you don’t knock Taylor up, because you can’t handle anything with a penis being put above you. Is that all?”

I definitely know where Audrey gets her sass from 🤭👏🏻

The only thing you want is to know that your babies are safe, and in a loving environment. And if he can’t provide that for them, he might as well just give up trying to fight for them. He only fights for them because it hurts you. But his fight is becoming stale. The only thing he’s holding onto is his pride. Knowing that Audrey could be his legacy, and never thinking that his son could. He wants you to hurt. He wants to shove something in Andy’s face. And all at the expense of his children.

He is a true asshole

One of these days, he’ll give up on the fight. And when he does, you know that Andy won’t hesitate to pick up those pieces, and be willing to adopt both children, and legally become their father. It’s in knowing a man. It’s knowing that even when you’re acting ridiculous in an argument, that Andy isn’t going to stop. That he’s not going to make some snarky comment that kills your self worth.

Oh he will and he will give 120% and do it all with the biggest smile

“Woman, being called daddy by you is not my thing. I know you’re doing it to make me cringe. But I just had the best sex of my life, and pissed off a little wanna be man in the process. Let me revel in that fact, and also the fact that your cunt is so full of me that your eyes are swimming,” you shake your head no. His hand is still covering you, but he knows you're smiling.

🤭🤭🤭

He could tell you about all the things that are different about you, but he’ll save it. He won’t be able to save it for too much longer. You’re just being too silly and stressed to realize.

I have a feeling what this could mean and I had it at some other parts especially in this chapter too, so let's see 🤔

Two Good Reasons, Part 8

Summary: something is happening

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, playful degradation, mentions of divorce, mentions of neglect, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism, Scott, creampie, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.7K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“NaNa?” Suede looks up from the toys he’s playing with pointing down the hallway to your bedroom. Desperately trying to get Andy to wake you up, “Mama and Dee seep?”

“Yes, buddy,” Suede huffs a bit. Crossing his arms over his chest before his mouth flattens out, and he returns to his playing. Andy watches him a moment before looking back at the game on tv. Suede looks back down the hallway before pouting up at Andy, “Suedey, what’s wrong?”

“Me pee,” he says, rocking his body back and forward.

“In your diaper?” He shakes his head no, looking towards the bathroom, and he jumps up. His feet bounce around a bit before he jumps, holding himself. “Okay. Come on,” Andy stands up, and walks quickly towards Suede, “Let’s go, buddy.”

“Mama be mad?” His brows furrow as he starts bouncing around even more. Andy knows he has moments before Suede has an accident and gets upset for doing so.

“Your mama won’t be mad. Come on,” Suede holds himself as he runs towards the bathroom, and makes it to his potty just in time. He gives Andy a thumbs up, smiling so proudly at him. “You made it! Does that feel better than a diaper?”

“Chess! Me yike it. NaNa pee der?” Suede points at the bigger toilet, and Andy nods his head, “Me, too?”

“One day. And you’ll get to stand.”

“No,” Andy nods his head yes. “No, no.”

“Has your dad never,” he stops his question when Suede scrunches his nose up. Andy approaches the boy carefully. A child with so very little vocabulary, and still so young, but clearly Scott hadn’t been teaching him anything about pottying.

“Tay.”

“Taylor?” Suede nods his head, and Andy wonders what his limited words are trying to tell him. He’s noticed that you don’t ever press your children about time at their dad’s, so he doesn’t want to either. But he wonders if Taylor is the one that deals with bathroom or diaper duty, “You done?”

“Chess! My mama at?”

“She and Audrey are taking a nap,” Suede dramatically rolls his eyes at Andy, and pulls up his pants. “Audrey has a bit of a cold, and your mama is tired.”

“Ways seep!” He rolls his eyes again, starting to stomp out of the bathroom.

“Hands, Suede,” Andy’s voice is soft, but demanding. It’s not a question, it’s what Suede has to do.

“Ugh,” groaning, he gets on the stool, grunting as he reaches for the soap.

“I know mama has been needing some extra sleep lately, but it happens to everyone,” Suede shakes his head no, starting to play more in the water than washing his hands. “Yes, they do. Your mom works hard, she loves you and sissy harder, and…”

“Ove oo.”

“Yes, she loves me, too. Are you finished?” Suede giggles as Andy picks him up to use the towel. He swings him around until he’s sitting on his hip, and he peeks into the bedroom, and you’ve still got Audrey tight against your body. Your nose buries into her watermelon scented hair, and she clings just as tightly to you.

Suede gets one look at you and growls, “Now, you’ve got to share time with your mom. You could have taken a nap, too, and you said no. You want to nap?”

“No,” shaking his head no, he points at Andy’s chest. Sputtering out words before sighing. Once Andy gets into the living room, he points at the tv.

“You want to watch the game or Bluey?”

“Oo Oo,” that settled that. He yawns, and Andy chooses to ignore it, if you bring up nap to Suede, he’ll refuse it just to spite you. Still holding him he walks into the kitchen. Grabbing himself a beer, and a cup of watered down juice for Suede. “Nack, pease,” his speaking has immensely improved. Suede has slowly been able to put words into sentences.

“A snack. Hmm. What about your fruit salad? No strawberries, and no..?”

“I love you, too, buddy. You ready to watch some Bluey?”

“Chess!” But his ’yes’ is just a little bit softer, and he never lifts his head off Andy’s chest.

—

You yawn, looking down at your daughter who rubs the sleep out of her eyes. Audrey looks up at you, giving you a sleepy smile, “Did you sleep as hard as mommy?”

“Uh huh,” she sits up in the bed, stretching big. “I like this new bed. Can we see what Andy and Suedey are doing,” she jumps out of the bed immediately, but waits for you to stretch, too. Going behind her, you scoop her up in your arms to blow raspberries all over her, but stop when you walk into the living room.

He wanted to watch some football, but opted for Bluey so Suede could fall asleep. He agreed to stay up a bit longer with Suede, spend some one on one time with him, while you and Audrey were already piled up and snuggled. Sunday naps are your favorite for a reason.

“They’re sleeping,” Audrey looks at you with a big smile. You know she enjoys seeing Suede being happy and more content here. She shouldn’t have to worry about her brother, but she does. The best big sister you could have asked for. “Suedey likes Andy a whole whole lot.”

“So does Audrey, huh?” She giggles, nodding her head. “How about mommy and Audrey get a snack, and you can play at the table while mommy makes dinner?” She nods again, while you look back at Andy and Suede. He makes your ovaries ache. Seeing how good he is with children that aren’t his, you know this man deserves someone of his blood. You don’t know how, but you’ll make it happen.

You honestly can’t even wait to spend all these holidays with Andy and the kids. Biting on your lip, you glance at the family calendar, knowing it’s past time to ask Scott if you can go back to Michigan with the kids to spend time with your family for Thanksgiving. It was your weekend to have them. Scott hadn’t told you about plans with Taylor’s family, or if he was even interested in seeing them on the holiday.

“Mommy?” You look up from slicing the vegetables for a roast, letting Audrey know she has your attention, “I think I messed up.”

“Why’s that?” She bites on her lip, looking more like you every day, even with her mannerisms. Audrey looks down at the PlayDoh she’d been kneading, and looks down the hallway towards the living room. “Audi? Is everything okay?”

Her face falls to sadness, and you lay down the knife. Walking around the counter island to hug her, “Sweet girl, Andy and I aren’t mad.”

“But what about my daddy? Are you going to tell him?” You weren’t. But eventually if Audrey kept feeling comfortable with Andy, and letting that title slip, he would know.

“Do you want me to?” She shakes her swiftly, and buries herself into your chest. “No. But I also think you should call Andy whatever feels natural. You naturally called him that because at that moment that’s what he felt like to you. Baby, Andy adores and loves you, and doesn't not care what you call him. Unless it’s something like poppy head,” Audrey giggles, finally lifting up from your body.

“What about daddy?” She pouts. No matter what, this little girl adores her dad, and she’s already over concerned about Scott’s opinion. “Won’t he be mad?”

“We don’t have to tell daddy if you don’t want to. Daddy never has to know. I don’t want you to stress about this. You’re four, almost five,” Scott is going to keep on and turn your precious child into a neurotic clam.

Her little fingers pet over your shirt, looking like she’s up to something. Her sly smile is so cute that you just want to give her a hard kiss on her cheek. “Can we go to Paris for my birthday?”

“No,” you answer quickly. Traveling out of the country with ‘Scott’s children’ would be out of the question. Going to Paris before her birthday would be even more so with planning alone. “Pick somewhere else to go.”

“Nini and Poppy’s?”

“That’s what I’m hoping to do for Thanksgiving. What about something around here?”

A finger taps on her chin, humming so sweetly while she thinks. “Can we go to the aquarium, and soft play, and then pizza, and then go to a movie?”

“I think that sounds like a magical day. Who do you want to go?”

“Our family,” you want to squeeze her so tight. Her sweetness comes out of her, and you need to preserve these little moments. “You, and me, and Suedey, and Andy,” you nod your head. Pressing a kiss to her forehead before placing her back in her seat. She’s making you oddly over emotional, and it feels so confusing and overwhelming, and you love it.

“Audrey, you are the cutest, most sweetest little girl I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“Yes, I do,” she gives you a little giggle, returning to her PlayDoh. You happen to glance at it a moment. “Is this what the judge’s bench looks like,” you finally understand Andy’s frustration with this.

“Audi, why don’t you make a cupcake instead.”

“No, I gotta learn.”

Waking up without the kids feels so awful. Yes, you have your wonderful boyfriend-fiance, and you refuse to call him fiance until he gives you a ring. And while waking up without them at home with you is better with Andy, due to the distraction, but it still sucked. The only good thing is having Andy prance around nearly naked.

He loves to keep the doors locked, the blinds closed, and walk around with his cock out all day. It’s like he’s teasing you. And you have no problem partaking. He really likes it when you’re naked or at least topless. Especially topless cooking, like now.

You’re being cheeky teenagers again, except without so many restrictions. Standing over the pot of soup, you giggle as Andy comes up behind you with his hands on your tits. He looks over your shoulders softly petting around your nipple. His smile is infectious as he pebbles the sensitive skin. “You’re so,” a lewd moan ripples through your throat, and you back your ass into his cock.

“Fuck me.”

“Sensitive,” Andy gives your nipples a hard pinch, and twirls you around to look at him, and you immediately cup his cock, and he meets your energy, except he shoves two fingers into your warmth, and you whimper, “You’re fucking soaked,” he’s shocked at how ready you are for him.

“I’m fucking horny,” you whine, grinding over his fingers like a bitch in heat. You’re so needy for him right now.

“Yeah, no shit, Doe. You are leaking out, and making a mess on your thighs. What has got you worked up?” His voice is laced with so much hunger for you. My god, this man and that cock you can have whenever you want. And you want immediately. “You’re so fucking messy.”

You can’t stop it. There’s something about his voice that sounds accusatory. And you’re fucking horny. You want to have sex, you don’t want to have a lecture. The soup is simmering and not ready. The kids aren’t here. And you want to be fucked so hard you fall asleep again.

“Maybe if my boyfriend didn’t walk around the damn house with his dick swinging around,” he grimaces at the word boyfriend and the way you emphasized it. “Get hard!”

“Make me,” you’re a bit irritated at him, but not enough to refuse making him hard. You sink to your knees, and take his hardening cock into your hand. You kiss over his member. Looking up at him with the sweetest face that you can muster. You’re not sweet. You’re a goddamn whore for Andy Barber.

“You are a horny little slut, hmm?” Shimmying your shoulders, you nod your head with a smile. Sucking his cock into your mouth so you can suck and use your tongue to massage him. Moaning as he turns to steel in your mouth. “Fuck. You seriously are a master with your mouth. My fiance looks amazing just like this. Taking my cock just like she was made to do.”

What? You pull off his cock slowly, and stare up at him scowling, “What?” He asks, mouth hanging open looking at you.

“Seriously?”

He furrows his brows, and you lose patience. Leaning back on your heels, he asks that stupid question again, “What, Doe?” You don’t say anything, just move to stand. “No. You stay and talk to me. What is your deal?”

Your deal? He grabs your arm, but you shrug him off, and march away from him. “Doe!” You keep walking away from him, but he doesn’t let up. Using your real name, and it hurts for some reason. The vitriol reaction you have to hearing him say a name that everyone calls you. Doe is special to him. His little deer.

“Do not call me that, Andy Barber!”

“I seriously have no idea what is going on right now,” of course he wouldn’t. Because he didn’t understand anything. And currently neither do you.

“Ugh!” Spinning back on your heels, you walk away. Again. Heading towards the bedroom. The two of you look utterly ridiculous; you wearing nothing but cheeky panties, and him completely nude with a hard on. Serves him right. Maybe he can have blue balls because the free show is over now. He needs to gravel, and plead.

“I sound stupid!” You scream at yourself, and you fall onto the bed like a petulant child. You sound like a toddler, and still you can’t stop the weird feeling. It’s not anger as much as it’s complete frustration. You can’t make it stop. You want to be fucked. You want Andy to propose like he said he would. You want to move and live in a house that doesn’t have Scott’s name on it. You want your children to quit leaving you every other weekend.

You want Scott to quit throwing lame excuses over your head trying to scare and threaten you. You want him to stop fighting for full custody. You don’t want him to even have joint custody. You want your babies. And you want them with you and Andy.

“Baby,” Andy coos on your back. He peppers kisses all over your back, and you cry more. You’re trying to be mad at him! “Honey, tell me what’s wrong?”

“I hate him,” he doesn’t have to see your face to know your crying. Your trembling body tells him.

“That’s not what set this off. Tell me what made you angry at first,” was it not Scott? Or is everything just rushing at you at once?

“You’re a liar,” you sound like a child. Audrey doesn’t whine as much as you are.

“I am not.”

“You said you were going to propose for real, and you haven’t,” make it stop. Go back to blaming Scott. You sound like an entitled asshole. Andy said he had a ring, and he said he was going to propose, and he will.

“I called you my fiance,” his voice is so soft, and understanding, but it kind of ticks you off again, and you try to resist. You don’t want to make things worse.

“And I hate it here. I hate that he takes our babies away every other weekend, and I only get to see their faces a little bit. Or when Suede tries to text from his ‘mini’ iPad, and it’s just emojis. And I love that you help him potty. And I’m so horny,” Andy chuckles on your back. He uses his feet to push legs apart.

His thick fingers start teasing through your weeping cunt, and another alarm goes off, “You’re trying to change the subject.”

“You just said you were horny, so I’m going to fuck you, and then we can talk about everything else like adults.”

“You fuck me from behind to much,” he growls. Actually growls on your body. “Andy!” His hands grip you tight before flipping you over on your back, and stepping in between your legs. He moves aside your panties, and you know how stupid it sounds inside your head, but you can’t stop it. “Are you seriously trying to fuck me like some bitch you met at the club without taking her panties off?”

He gives you the most angry grin you’ve ever seen. Tight lipped and irritated when he rips the damn things off, “Those were my favorite panties.”

“No, they weren’t,” you gawk at him. “No. No, they weren’t. Your favorite ones are those pink ones. They cover your full ass, and there’s something about the way they just don’t move on your body, so you’re not tugging them around all day,” you really gawk at him. He’s right. “And when we sleep, your ass cheeks hang out just the tiniest bit and I want to bite each one. So not only are they comfortable on you, they look amazing on, or on the floor.”

Andy crashes into your whiny ass warmth, and your back lifts off the bed. “Now, I don’t know what set you off, or why you’re being so unreasonable but I want to talk about it.”

“I want you to fuck me!” He pulls himself all the way out before slamming into so hard. “Fuck me!”

“I am!” He does it again. And again until your eyes start to crash. “I am your partner, and I want to listen to what’s bothering you.”

“I do,” you shake your head no, but Andy grips onto your chin tightly. His hips slowly push and pull him out of your warmth. You really are a damn teenager. Can’t have an adult conversation without needing your boyfriend-fiancé’s cock inside of you, and all you can do is cry and shake your head. “Doe, I want to hear everything. We are partners. When you don’t feel well, I don't feel well. I want you to be happy because that makes my days better.”

“I don’t want him to have our babies,” you said it again without any hesitation. You want Andy to have your children. You would ask him to adopt them today if you knew it was possible.

He nods his head. His rhythm is still so steady, “The custody hearing is getting closer,” it isn’t a question, but you nod your head. He knows that’s part of what’s bothering you, “Honey, I’m not going to let anyone take the kids from us.”

“You can’t promise that,” Andy leans forward, and kisses each cheek, pulling back you notice the shine on his lips. “Did you just kiss my tears away?”

“I love you,” your words bubble over. He’s so perfect, and you’re just not. You’re not a superhuman, you’re not the thinnest, the most beautiful, the smartest, but you know you’re a damn good mom, and you were a good wife to an asshole. But you could be the best wife to Andy. “I want to marry you.”

“You’ve got to get divorced first,” you snort. Finally sounding happier than sadder. He smiles, kissing you gently. “I’ll marry you the day after if that’s what you want.”

“It was always you,” you may sound silly. You two may argue over the stupidest things. But it was always him. “I’m sorry that I’m a child sometimes.”

“You’re normally not,” he bites his lip as he pounds into you quickly. “Now, hold — fucking hell!” He yells, slamming his hand on your phone. “You’re answering it.”

“You are fucking me,” giggling, you read his name, and know why Andy wants you to answer.

“And I’ll keep fucking you. So you better listen to little Scottie the first time,” whimpering, you shake your head no.

“Just finish quickly.”

“I don’t want to, I want to take my time. Answer it.”

Groaning, you click on the phone, “Hey,” Andy is an asshole. He keeps a slow rhythm into your body. “What are you needing?”

“Why do you sound sniffly?”

“My allergies have been irritating me lately,” you can feel his eyes roll, “What’s up?”

“Taylor is wanting to throw Audrey a party,” he blurts out. You don’t hate Taylor. But you don’t think Taylor is capable of throwing Audrey a birthday party either. Plus, she’s got the celebration one in her classroom, and doesn’t love large crowds. “She wants to give her a party at an event center with clowns.”

“She’s terrified of clowns, and characters in costumes,” she likes her characters 2D.

“She’s not over that yet?”

“Are you over your fear of sharks?” Scott huffs. “I’m listening. What else?” Andy pistons into your body so hard that you have to slap your hand over your mouth to keep a sound of deep satisfaction from escaping. “Jerk!”

“Just have Taylor’s family,” why? “And a few kids from her classroom,” a few can range to a large number. “She wants a caterer.”

“For a five year old?” You already see what Taylor is doing. She wants her family there, so she can show off how much her boyfriend can spend on silly little things like a birthday party.

“Not everybody wants to make everything by hand like you, Ms. Perfect,” you know Andy is aware of everything that Scott is saying. It’s why he grits his teeth as he pounds into your body balls deep, and lets the tip of his cock settle against your cervix sweetly. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” just having the best sex with the deepest penetration.

“You’re panting.”

“I just got off the treadmill,” just getting fucked.

“Honey, it’s not baby weight anymore, Suede is two,” another harsh move into you, and Andy’s face starts to turn red. Angry with Scott’s unnecessary harsh words.

“She wants to go to Paris.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not paying for that shit.”

You roll your eyes. Scott seriously didn’t understand, nor were you asking him to pay for anything. “She’s obsessed with Madeline. Why not do a Parisian theme. But for fuck’s sake, can the two of you make sure that Suede can have everything there? You know how kids are.”

“You could keep him that day.”

Andy bites your neck slightly too hard, “Ow.”

“What?” Andy growls on your skin. “Oh god, did I upset Andrew?” No, he’s pissing you off.

“You upset me. Either Suede goes, or you don’t need to throw a party for Audrey,” he starts to say something, but you speak louder, “That’s his sister, and you know the special bond that they have. Either you include Suede in the festivities, or you don’t do it. Audrey will want to talk about it, and it won’t be fair to our son.”

“He’s fucking two years old, he won’t remember it.”

Andy moans, and Scott whispers an expletive. You hope that Scott knows that you’re getting ground into with the biggest cock right now. Andy pushes into you faster. Harder. “Is there a problem, Scott?”

“You can be a bitch sometimes. Just didn’t realize it until after we split.”

“And you can be an asshole sometimes. I always knew it, but I overlooked it for some reason. And if I ever hear about you and Taylor making a comment about Suede’s shitty diaper again…” Andy pushes into you so hard, your eyes roll into the back of your head. You can’t make threats. “He’s a baby, and we are teaching him to potty train. If you don’t want to change diapers, do the same at your house.”

“He’s with you more.”

“Consistency is the key. Is that all?” His side is silent, minus the heavy breathing. You can hear his finger tapping on something. His annoying fucking habit when he gets angry. Fucking asshole. He’s a little bitch. Having to make a two year old feel bad for an accident in his diaper to make him feel superior.

“Audrey shouldn’t — are you,” he pauses. You’ve stunned him into silence, and he doesn’t even know what to say, “What do you want?”

“I want you to treat both our children the same. I want you to treat Suede like he’s your son, and that you love him. I want you to be just as proud of him as you are of Audrey. I want you to stop pushing the responsibilities of our children onto Taylor. I want my son to come home happy. I don’t want him to see me, and not want to let go of me for a few hours. Mmm,” Andy really is an asshole for pushing into you so deep that you can’t stop the sound of bliss.

Scott knows. He knows that Andy is giving it to you so good, and when you get off the phone that Andy is going to fuck you like a slut. “Andy told you to write,” he sighs. Yes, Andy and you have been writing down every indiscretion to your children that he does, “I just can’t connect with him.”

“What are you saying?” Your fingers dig into Andy’s ass. You're angry. You’re pissed. You’re ready to kill your ex.

“I don’t,” he’s choosing his words carefully. You wish he would just rip the bandaid off. “He’s not an easy child. Audrey is. I had bonding time with her. And then…”

“Fuck you. You are so self righteous. You act like you’re the perfect fucking parent, and nobody is ever going to compare to you. I hope Andy enjoys trying to please someone who is impossible to please,” you moan again. Having to bite on Andy’s arm. “You fucking slut. How dare you fuck that asshole while you’re talking to me!”

“My fucking slut,” Andy grunts before reaching to your phone, and ending the call. “After this court hearing, and when it’s determined about the kids,” he stops himself. His thrusts are angry. “Do you realize I want to,” you cover his mouth with your hand, shaking your head.

“Do not say that. I just want our,” you smile at him, letting him know that it’s not an accident when you say our, “babies. Oh god,” he ruts into you, and your body becomes soft for him. Pliable to his every move, and you stare at the man that didn’t even have to try, and he reached your ‘impossible’ standards. Scott is wrong. And you’re never going to allow him to hurt your self esteem ever again.

He crashes his lips into yours, and the two of you pant. Breathing in each other’s air. Entangling your bodies together in the most beautiful sin. One of these days you won’t have to worry about these conversations. You won’t have to worry about the bane of your existence. You’ll be able to sleep every other weekend because you know that your children are in a safe home.

He presses his forehead against yours while he drives his cock into you so hard. Fusing his body with yours. You can’t look away from his beautiful eyes. Can’t think of anything more besides the fact that Andy is the most beautiful human. Andy is the epitome of a perfect man. Not just in looks, even though he really is the best. But the fact that he isn’t toxic, and he’s all man.

His eyes darken, and his body tightens, “I’m there, Andy.”

“I know, honey,” his salacious moan has your body setting on fire. He’s so vocal during sex that you never have to worry if it truly feels good for him, or if you’re just ‘doing your wifely duties’. “I feel your walls pulsing around me. Squeezing me so tight. Let. Go,” breathing him in, you let every wall fall down as euphoria races through you. Your cunt clenches down around him, and you mewl out his name. Thick. Hot ropes of cum shoot into your pussy, and Andy’s body melts on top of your own.

You just breathe. You soak him all up. Every last drop of him. This will be the one that takes. You know it will be. You furrow your brows as you look up at the ceiling. Counting in your head. Are you even ovulating? Are you…?

“Hey,” he pops up from your chest, smiling, and you forget all the counting. He’s so pretty after sex. “Tomorrow when we go to pick up the kids. There’s somewhere special I want to show you.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Andy!”

“Doe!”

“Daddy!” He covers your mouth with his hand.

“Yeah, you’re swimming in Andy cum and Andy dick.”

“I love swimming in Andy.”

“Andy just loves you,” and with that, he kisses you softly. Savoring the different taste of you after sex. He could tell you about all the things that are different about you, but he’ll save it. He won’t be able to save it for too much longer. You’re just being too silly and stressed to realize.

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