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moonlight-prose · 5 months ago

Text

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett x f!reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n #my writing

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withjaejae · 1 month ago

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Hole-in-one | JJK

A day of golf goes better than expected despite being ditched by your bestfriend and spending the afternoon with your so-called rival.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

High society of sorts, Richie Rich type of wealth.

Warnings: Oral (m/f), sexual jokes, dig bick Jk, playful banter, unprotected sex, squirting, throat fucking, sexual tension, one-shot. (Did I miss something?)

A/N: I wanted to write more but I thought it ended ok. My knowledge on golf is based on Wii which I stopped playing a long time ago. So bear with me.

I have no way to know how long but enjoy.

Because some of you asked nicely

PART 2 PART3

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You groan in frustration as you read Namjoon's text saying he left with the girl he met at the club lobby.

It was a nice sunny afternoon, perfect for golf. At least Namjoon was gonna fill holes either way and that irks you the most. He's had women, left and right, while you struggled with your types.

All you want was a man who shared the same things you like. Golf was your thing, Namjoon came for the women who thought they were stealing him from you. When in fact, Namjoon was your cousin/best friend.

"Alone today?" The attendant, Jean, always met you with a smile and your golf clubs.

"Yeah, unfortunately my cousin can't last a second without a mouth around his dick." Her face flushed a deep crimson. "No offense." Yup, she and Namjoon did it too.

"None taken, I'm over it." She shrugs and grabs the golf kart key from the shelf. "Shall we?"

"I think I wanna go solo today, Jean. Thanks." You take the key from her and she nods. She knows better than to say no to you.

Your custom lavender colored Kart waited for you, your initials in mettalic purple on the front. It was parked next to several other custom karts.

You arrived at your first course. A man was already standing there, setting up his own stuff. No caddie in sight, you notice his arms and very much know who he is. You look at the deep purple colored kart next to yours.

"No girls to fuck on this fine afternoon, Jeon?" You smirk as you step out of your kart.

He stands up straight at the sound of your voice, he doesn't need to turn around to know its you.

"I wondered why the birds stopped singing." He continues to set up his tee. "No dicks to suck?" He quips.

"I don't fuck on the weekends." You're unfazed having been bantering like this for about a year now.

"Oh look, we do have things in common." He calls 'fore' before swinging his club.

You both watched as the ball lands near the hole. Out of respect you clap your hands, that was a good swing.

"Namjoon?" He finally turns to look at you, his eyes rake over your legs, your skirt is too short for golfing and your top hugged you so well he could outline your tits.

"Found a poor soul in the lobby before he could even touch some grass." You snort and pull out your own driver and ball.

He steps back, clearly you both could use the company even if it meant mean retorts.

You take position, he doesn't even try to be subtle about oggling at your ass.

You and Jungkook are neighbors but you studied abroad for middle school and highschool. Why you chose to come home for college, you're not sure. But you and Jungkook are in senior year now and you have common friend groups but not really that close until...

A year ago, you finally joined your parents to the Jeon's hunting weekend, it was an annual thing. It was going smoothly for the most part but when you and Jungkook shot the same boar at the same time, that's when the mean comments started. It was a rivalry of sorts, one trying to become better than the other.

Contrary to what he said earlier, you have too many things in common being raised in high society.

You see each other all the time at sport events and even charities but nothing beyond those events.

To be here with him, without anyone else is a first. You both won't admit that you've been crushing on each other but your society knows there's tension between you two.

"Nice ass." He comments just as you swing. Your ball landing a bit far from the hole.

"You did that on purpose." You frown at him, he was already smirking with that cute bunny looking face, his nose scrunched up.

"I did. Now look, looks like you need two more strokes to make it." He snorts as he walks towards his kart and you groan as you follow him.

"Title of your sex tape." You comment under your breath, he laughs.

You both drive down the path towards the hole.

You study the distance of your ball to the hole and his distance. You can make it in one, if you're lucky.

He lines himself up.

"Nice ass." You say back as he swings and it goes right in. You roll your eyes.

"Two strokes." He winks and moves to stand next to you. Shoulders touching, suddenly it feels warmer.

You stop to feel the wind, you work on your angle and with one stroke, it goes in too.

"Impressive." He claps his hands too and you made a little curtsy. "Never thought you'd be this good at golf."

"You see me here all the time. Doesn't that make sense?" You take both balls from the hole.

Instead of putting the ball in his palm, you make a bold move of standing in front of him while slipping both in his pockets.

"There, now you have a pair of balls." You look up at him, for a second his eyes darkened but the smirk was back.

He leans down, lips nearly touching. "YN, if you wanted to touch my balls, all you need to do is ask."

Your cheeks feel hot and it doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook. But you never back down.

"I thought you didn't have any." You lean closer, one more move and your lips would be touching.

"I can show you right now." Your face moves back. "All talk and no walk, a shame." He stands up straight. "But if you want it so badly. When I do a hole in one, you be my caddie. And if you do a hole in one, I'll fuck your brains out."

You snort but can't help feel the rush of wetness from between your folds.

"You say that like fucking you is a prize." You step away from him. "The only hole you'll get to fill today are on the course. But..." You flip your hair to the side, a mischievous glint in your eye. "If you wanted to, all you have to do is ask."

"Oh? Then, YN, can I fuck your brains out?" Oh, he's bold. You roll your eyes and walk back to your Kart.

He follows you, with a grin plastered on his face.

"Are you scared you might actually like it?" You scoff and look at him. Your heartrate suddenly spiking.

"I'm afraid I might get disappointed." You start to feel hot. Its only been one course, if you go back now. Jean will definitely say something.

"Oh baby, I could live up to your gold standard. I am gold standard." He's cocky and arrogant but god it would be a lie to say you're not turned on.

"See you at the next course, Jeon." Your kart starts backing up and he rushes to follow you again.

You both arrive at the same time, this time at a more difficult course.

"The next course we should do is intercourse." He hasn't even reached you yet and he's already teasing.

"Shut up before someone hears you." You forcefully stick your tee on the ground.

"Why? Its not like we're both kids, plus nobody is around." He looks around, the next group of golfers are a hectare away.

You sigh and face him again. He loves riling you up, it was just playful banter before and now that you've entered this kind of teasing, he loves your reactions.

"Okay." You declare. His grin ceasing a bit, his eyebrows raised. "I'll tee first, if I do a hole in one, you get on your knees and..."

"Beg for your forgiveness? Princess I don't beg." He smirks again, he licks his lip piercing.

You step even closer, your tits touching his chest and he loves the feeling. "No, I want the golden boy to get on his knees and show me what that mouth can do other than tease." His throat runs dry.

Shit. "Is that supposed to be a punishment? You'd probably beg for more once I'm done." He kicks his leg, hopefully to free some space in his pants for his growing boner.

You hum. "Another thing we have in common, I don't beg." Lie, you always beg in bed.

"Deal. But if I make a hole in one, you're the one getting on your knees." He's confident. Given your 'punishments' aren't really punishments. He'd love to eat you out, but he won't tell you that.

But you know this course, you've hit holes in ones in this. Yout heart is beating loudly almost clouding your senses. Jungkook has a permanent teasing smirk on his face you'd like to kiss off.

Out of all the places you could have teased each other into fucking, you didn't expect it to be at the golf course.

"Don't worry princess, I'll be gentle... At first." He chuckles.

You take a deep breath and swing. You both watched the ball as it flies over the field. You bit your lip at it lands an inch away and it falls right in. Your hands fly in the air cheering for yourself.

"Are you this excited to have me eat you?" He was standing directly behind you, his warmth and scent engulfing you. "My turn."

You step away and wink at him. He takes a deep breath and swings. You both watch as it takes the same speed and the same arch and his ball lands the exact same way yours did. A hole in one for the both of you.

He turns to you with a satisfied grin.

"I hope your throat is ready for me princess." Your nerves are going haywire at his voice. Did it get lower?

You quietly head to your kart, you nod to the side, gesturing him to follow you and you drive away.

The thing with this club house is, both your parents are partial owners, hence you have access to the many rooms the place offers if you asked.

Lucky for you, you already planned on staying the night since it was a free weekend.

You barely parked properly, tossing the key to the valet. You meet Jean and you ask for a room key, she eyes you then behind you, sure enough Jeon Jungkook was standing there, watching your ass again.

She hands you the key card. No more words exchanged between you, sexual tension builds in its wake.

You head to the elevator and head to the third floor. The suites.

Your breathing is starting to get ragged as you feel the fragile tension inside the elevator. Jungkoom just stood there, eyes forward, hands in his pockets. He refrains from moving since this place had security camers and your neighborhood would have a field day if you fucked in the club elevators.

But all he can hear is his heartbeat, all he can smell is you, and all he can feel is the tightness in his pants.

He follows you down the hall, and you swipe the key card. The moment the two of you cross the threshold and the door securely locked. You turn to face him and his hands are already on you, pulling your face into feverish kiss. You moan into the kiss as he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his torso.

He takes you to the couch. He grins into the kiss.

"What?" You pull away, you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

"I was thinking who should get their prize first." His hand was on your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip. You take it into your mouth and suck on it. "fuck." He mumbles and his breath gets caught in his throat.

"Since I'm being generous." You get off him and get on your knees in front of him. "Wouldn't want to keep my goldben boy waiting." The way you called him yours made his heart skip a beat.

It was a joint effort to take his pants off. What he didn't expect was for you to take your top off, a sexy lace bra underneath it. Usually, you wear a sports bra but you didn't feel like it today. Now you know why.

He's huge. Your wetness growing in your panties. Eager to have him, you take a hold of his base and rub his dick over your face.

You moan and finally take him into your mouth. He hisses and moans.

His fingers weave through your hair. The way you look up at him as you take him deeper almost made him cum. Fuck, for years you basically ignored each other despite everyone teasing you about ending up together since your parents were basically best friends, had you known that his dick would fit perfectly in your mouth.

You moan around him, the vibrations sending Jungkook into pure bliss.

"Keep going." His head was thrown back as he moans loudly. "So fucking needy." You took him deeper to show him how needy you can become.

He takes your hands and places them on his thigh. "Double tap if you can't take it." You nod knowing what he'd do next. He did say he'd be gentle at first.

He weaves both hands into your hair this time and fucked your throat. Your tears and drool flow freely, you look like a fucking porn star and Jungkook loves it. You're taking him so well he moans out loudly.

"I'm gonna fucking cum down your throat." He forces his words out and you simply take in his thrusts. With one last shove he shoots his load down your throat, you swallow around him. "Holy fucking shit, where the hell have you been all my life." His breathing was ragged as you pull off him, grinning like the slut you are. "Who knew that a princess like you loved to be treated like a whore, my whore."

He makes you stand up, you use your shirt to wipe off the drool, you avoid your tears that made makeup run down your cheeks, that's going to stain.

Jungkook kisses your pelvis as he rids you of your skort. The lace thong that matches your bra peek through and he's starting to get hard again.

He takes off his shirt and pulls you down for you to land over his shoulder. He stood up like you weigh nothing, you shriek and giggle at the way he's handling you.

He literally throws you onto the bed, but the way you landed seemed so graceful in Jungkook's eyes. So pretty, so delicate, like you were made of porcelain with the sex drive of a succubus.

His eyes were glassy, hazed from the mindblowing head he received. Crawling towards you as you scoot up to the headboard.

"Time for your prize princess." He uses his teeth to pull down your thong and expertly unclasping your bra.

"I better get my money's worth, Mr. Gold standard." He captures your lips in his before slowly kissing down on your skin, your eyes roll to the back of your head as he finds the sweet spot near your clavicle.

Your scent is addicting, what he'd give to get a taste of you everyday. He can make that happen, he will make that happen.

After all, high society is all about marrying each other to keep the weath from seeping out of your grasp. He's hypnotized by the way your chest rises and falls as he inches towards your needy pussy.

You've lost it the moment his tongue comes in contact with your folds. He wastes no time devouring you, you sound so good.

This is bad, so bad that he hasn't even fucked you properly and he already wants to marry you. Keep you close because nobody else should see what he's looking at right now.

His tongue works wonders, lips sucking on ever inch. You were chanting his name like it was a prayer. "Holy fuck baby." The petname sounds so nice coming from you.

It wasn't long until your moans become more high-pitched as you fuck yourself on his tongue. What threw you over the edge were the two fingers he inserted. You were squirting all over his face, your body shaking like a leaf.

"That was hot." He smirks up at you, putting both hands on your face as you tried to control your breathing. "You okay?" He moves up to hover over you, prying your hands away.

"I've never... I—I haven't..." Squirted but you can't seem to say it. Jungkook captures your lips again, you taste yourself.

"I'm honored, princess." He teases and you blush. How can he make you feel giddy when you literally just came all over his face.

Something inside you tell you that you'll never find another man who can make you feel like this, who can make you cum like that. No, you need this everyday.

"Jungkook." You reach down towards his erection. "I want you to fuck my brains out." Referring to your earlier conversations.

"Fuck yes baby." He dives in to kiss you with much more need than the previous one.

The tip of his head was rubbing against your opening, he was waiting for you to protest and ask him to wrap it up but you dig your heels on his ass instead.

"Fuck me." Your fingers scrape through his hair. "Please, baby." He chuckles.

"I thought you didn't beg?" He finally pushes in you, your mouth falls open but you don't make a sound other than a small squeak. "You're made for my cock. So fucking tight." He grunts.

You start begging him to go faster and harder, Jungkook happily obliges. With your thighs thrown over his shoulder, his hand wrapped around your throat, he could get used to this. You feel so good and he wasn't holding back from telling you what a good whore you are.

He lifts your ass up just a little hitting you at an angle you never knew felt so fucking good you're cumming again.

He fucks you, over and over. One orgasm after the other, you've lost count of how many. It wasn't until he spills his load all over your tits that he finally collapses next to you.

After care be damned, you both fall asleep in each other's arms covered in cum.

Your phones ring at the same time. 6pm sharp.

"Hey dad." He groans into the phone.

"Mom." You pick up your own phone.

Legs still tangled around each other as you both spoke to your parents. You both answer the same thing.

"Let me guess, dinner?" Jungkook tosses his phone on the night stand as you lay yours gently.

"Yeah, at your place." You mumble. "I think we passed out." You giggle.

"Fuck yeah we did." His bunny toothed smile. "Wanna shower together?"

With your body aching like crazy you decide to shower here. The warm bath helping you recover, of course you two fucked again.

He drops you off at your house before parking his car at their mansion next door. He waves at you as you both enter the house.

Your mom was standing by the window with a huge grin on her face.

"Did Jungkook drop you off? I though you weren't close like that?" She asks as you step up the stairs.

"Yeah, but we... We went golfing today. It was fun." You smile, and your mom simply nodded.

It was more than fun. It was definitely gold standard. The best hole in one you've had.

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Part 2 Part 3

#bts au fanfic #bts college au #bts fic #bts smut #bts jungkook #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook #high society #smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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2truehearts · 1 year ago

Text

don’t. don’t talk to me i will break.

𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈.

pairing. gepard landau x gn!reader cw. angst. hurt/no comfort. failed relationships. fluff to angst. passing mention of alcohol. marriage proposals. set after the events of the jarilo-vi trailblaze mission. author's note. this song destroys me every time i listen to it, soooo. if this fic ever sees the light of day, know that this stayed in the vault for terribly long. my debut solo geppie fic...! and its angst. whoopsies.

despite the absence of the morning sun, belobog was glowing in anticipation in celebration for one of, if not the biggest event that the city would hold for the year.

the cityfolk were crowding around the central plaza of belobog, excitedly chatting away for the display of romance that they will be seeing in less than an hour as others continued to fix the decorations in the area. from a distance, the children were running amok near where the snacks were located just as their parents exasperatedly tried to get them to behave.

and you were in the middle of all that bustle, your grip snaked around the stem of your champagne glass and a faraway smile on your face at the sight of it all.

it was the wedding today. and it was everything you imagined and hoped it could be — and even more.

silks as white as belobog's snow proliferated every part of the venue, decorated with blue petals that you can only surmise as gepard's favorite flowers. the captain, no matter how much he enjoyed doing so, was terrible at gardening. the first time he told you about it, you had laughed in his face, watching as his ears turned red in embarrassment as he tried to hide his reaction.

how exactly did you and gepard meet? you hailed from the underworld, so your judgement about silvermane guards had been clouded. everything was scarce down in the underworld, thus, you did not exactly have the most fulfilling of lives in the past. natasha had been your parental figure since you were a child, but even the promise of her protection was not enough to hinder you from wanting to leave jarilo-vi.

when the fateful day had arrived, you remembered how your heartbeat quickened in pace as you raced up to the overworld — only to be greeted by the incarnation of the sun himself, just as how you remembered thinking when you first laid eyes on gepard.

he had been leading the silvermane guards in ensuring the smooth entry of the underworld citizens when the both of you locked eyes for a little too longer than a minute. needless to say, you were drawn to the captain of the silvermane guards against your own judgements.

and he was too, you knew that for sure.

you were dragged away from daydreaming too much just as someone bumped into you — a young girl, probably around the age of twelve, donned with two brown pigtails in her hair who shouted an apology to your direction (probably because she bumped into you), before she disappeared the other way. almost right after her, a young boy, the same age as her, was shouting for her to stop running, but you could see that unmistakable smile in that boy's face that you could probably assume as affection.

you could definitely forgive a little lover's chase.

your hands had been flipping through the parchments that supposedly included the map of the vast universe — or at least, only the planets existing in the data archives — that you had traded your credits for when you felt a pair of calloused hands wrap around your eyes.

“guess who?” you laughed, knowing very well that only one person in the world would dare to do this to you. “i know it’s you, gepard.”

your lover chuckled at the sound of his name, before you felt that small peck on your head and his fingers intertwining with your free hand as gepard took the seat adjacent to you. “what are you up to?”

your other hand had been preoccupied with tracing the path of nearby planets to jarilo-vi, the ripples in the paper creating the feeling of excitement as your finger brushed across the map. you could feel gepard’s eyes on you as you didn’t respond, only engrossed in what was right in front of you.

whether or not the captain seemed to mind that you didn’t answer him, gepard simply squeezed your hand in his, just as you could hear him move closer to you. “you got another map?”

“yup! who would have thought there were neighboring planets near us? if i could just save up enough credits… i’ll be off on the next ship away from this planet.” the prospect of escaping the planet had long allured you when you were child; quite inevitably, you still hadn’t lost sight of your goal to get away from your home planet, desperate to seek out another that wouldn’t let you down like jarilo-vi has.

gepard hummed amicably in your excitement, though you had half-expected that he’d share something else to your own musings, just like he always did. “is something on your mind, geppie?”

“no, no. everything’s fine." his words spoke with utmost reassurance, but the same reassurance didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes. you could feel a pit of uncertainty in your stomach, but you didn’t know if it was right to push; so, you simply turned back to your map.

“one day, i’ll definitely fulfill my dreams and start my life the day i’m away from here!” you boasted in pride, just as you see your love stare at you with an expression that you could never quite comprehend that night.

you had downed your third champagne of the event, just as you absentmindedly set down the empty glass on the table where the rest of the food sat. you barely even caught a whiff of the roasted poultry, but your stomach already grumbled at the pristine sight of the delectable food enclosed inside the chafing dish.

even as you hear the silvermane guards curse about the lopsided flower decoration that looked like it was about to fall, even when you overheard that the officiant of the wedding seemed to be running late, everything still looked perfect.

and you could only assume that it was gepard’s own doing. he would want this day to be something to be remembered, after all.

you had been too engrossed in your latest reads that you hadn’t realized that it was an hour past midnight if it wasn’t for the multitude of buzzing notifications coming from your phone.

naturally, it came from your partner, with countless ones that asked where you were and if you had eaten. your stomach grumbled at the thought; clearly, you had not.

so there you were, dragging your feet as you hurriedly ran back home — the shared quarters that you shared with gepard. you had only moved in with him several months into your relationship which … took a lot of convincing from gepard’s part.

he really wanted to try living with you, he had pleaded. and you found it difficult to say no to him when he looked so excited about the promise of it all.

your hand twisted the handle of the door, trying to quietly enter so as not to wake gepard up. the lights were closed, so you had figured that he might have been asleep.

swinging the door open, you tiptoed your way into the place that gepard had referred to as the living room. your body was aching from running out in the rigid cold weather, so all you wanted was to sink yourself into the velvety couch, but you didn't expect to see gepard sprawled over in the couch, no doubt fast asleep.

right in front of him sat two plates of belobog sausage with a messy pile of rice. though one of the plates included a half-eaten sausage and barely any trace of the rice, the other remained untouched, almost as if it were waiting for someone.

you. gepard had been waiting to eat with you.

guilt crept up to you, as you took a bite of the food that he prepared for you. it was no longer warm, as you had anticipated — which only meant that he had been waiting for a while before you finally came home.

"hey, hey geppie." you were gently shaking his shoulder just as you could feel him stir under your touch. "thanks for the food. i .... i'm sorry i didn't answer your calls." though gepard didn't fully awaken, you could feel his shoulders tense before visibly relaxing at the sound of your voice. "mmm,,... love you, y/n." he murmured, before you could hear the faint beginning of his snores.

no doubt, he was tired. you had leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the head, just like he always did, but stopped midway. your hands were grazing the side of his face, before pulling away to instead drape a blanket over his sleeping form.

i love you too, gepard, you thought.

you didn't understand what had stopped you, nor why you couldn't find the voice to return his words, but you simply chalked it up to your torpor. not before long, your own exhaustion finally caught up to you and claimed you as you fell into a deep slumber.

"y/n?" the familiar voice of gepard's sister brought you away from your thoughts, as you whirled around to see serval, carrying her guitar in one hand and a couple papers in the other. your eyes widened when she ran over to envelop you in a warm embrace, holding all of those items and all. you had almost expected that she would ... well, never mind that.

"you're here! i... i'm- well, this is a pleasant surprise." you had allowed yourself to smile just as serval studied you intently. "of course. i wouldn't miss this for the world." a bitter laugh spilled from your lips, and you had only hoped that serval was not as perceptive as usual.

"well— i need to finish handing these out, but let's chat later, alright?" serval, as jovial as ever. you had almost anticipated the cold shoulder with how things had culminated, but she didn't.

but somehow, you wished that serval did. or more importantly, he would. maybe it would make the pain of forgetting a little less unbearable.

the day you had been waiting for finally arrived. at last, you had almost enough credits to buy your way out of jarilo-vi and start your life elsewhere. the tantalizing thought of fulfilling your lifelong dream had kept you on your toes, but the excitement was even more magnified when you remembered your anniversary with gepard, who had promised you a night to remember.

"what's all this?" to say that you were surprised was an understatement; your quarters, once a messy pile of armor, plates and nearly wilted flowers, had been transformed into a place befitting a romantic candlelight dinner.

which was ... also what gepard had prepared, as he stood in front of the table with a bashful smile. he had been holding a bouquet of fresh red roses, that his hand stretched out to hand to you. "it's for you. happy anniversary, beloved."

there were two glasses of champagne in front of your seats, along with a plate of— "is that stone-grilled olm?!" you exclaimed, to which gepard's smile shone brighter than the sun at the sound of your excitement. "i thought this was discontinued?!"

gepard only chuckled. "i may.. have pulled a few strings." you set the bouquet down as you took your seat across gepard. oh, you can already feel your stomach grumbling. "let's eat?"

you hadn't replied to him anymore, only digging in like a ravenous monster devouring its prey. you had missed the food served in the underworld, as most of them had discontinued their services after they found work in more in-demand places. you hadn't realized that gepard was just watching you eat, a small smile playing on his lips before disappearing when you let out a sound of confusion.

"you're not going to eat?" you asked, midway through a spoonful of olm in your mouth. gepard shook his head. "i, i will. in a bit." he took a sip from his glass, but his gaze never left you. you suddenly grew self-conscious, as you slowed your pace in eating the food.

"hey, y/n—" "yes?" your head snapped up, to gepard's surprise. silence fell between the both of you, before he cleared his throat to continue. "i... well, happy anniversary." you chuckled, as your fork speared through a piece of olm. "you already told me that, silly."

you had not expected to see gepard looking so nervous though, almost as if he had been hiding something. your eyes narrowed in sudden suspicion, before transforming into a more tender concern. "everything alright, geppie?"

before you knew it, gepard had reached over to hold your hand, his gaze finally meeting yours head on. "y/n. i... i know it had only been a little over two years that we had been together but it.. it has only strengthened my resolve more than anything." you didn't understand where all of this were coming from. "geppie..."

"you... you mean the entire universe to me. you are my sun, my moon and my stars. i... i know that you have your plans of leaving this city, and i understand and completely respect your decision but... i have never felt this strongly about someone, and i don't think i ever will for anyone else."

you only thought that these kind of things only happened in the tales that natasha would read to you during bedtime, but here it was unfolding, as you watched gepard get down in one knee before finally unveiling what he had been obviously hiding behind his back.

a ring. a beautiful diamond encrusted ring that you can only imagine costed millions of credits.

and it was for you.

"y/n, would you make me the happiest man alive and be my spouse?"

you could stare at gepard, mouth agape and a tidal wave of emotions threatening to sink you down from where you sat. "gepard, i—"

"we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of the captain of the silvermane guard, gepard landau and his spouse..."

of course. the wedding was starting. you blinked back tears just as you made your way to where you had resigned yourself to when you broke the captain's heart: in the sidelines.

even when half a decade has passed, you could never forget the night that gepard proposed to you with bated excitement in his eyes, you could never forget how you raised your voice in incredulity at him at the prospect of settling down in this forsaken planet, you could never forget how his sun-like smile twisted into a heartbroken frown as you uttered the word that shattered all his dreams.

you had said no to him that night, all because you did not want to be shackled down in the planet that you had made a long-standing pact to yourself to leave.

and now, you were paying the price for your own foolishness as you watched gepard marry another.

it was the first time since you saw gepard since you closed the door on him, as he stood at the end of aisle and fitted in the most stunning white suit that complemented his features. his hair had been parted in a way that made his look even more formal, but you somehow missed the tousled curls that were all over his face.

he still looked handsome as ever, which just made your heart clench in pain. you had taken the best thing in your life for granted, after all.

when you left jarilo-vi at last, all you were filled with was regret in leaving him behind. though you had earnestly enjoyed living in a different planet, you’d sometimes think about the domestic exchanges you shared with gepard during the time you were together.

when you had received a mail signed under landau, your heart had simply raced in excitement, only to fall flat on the ground when you read the contents of the invitation.

your thoughts had drowned out the words of the officiant, as your eyes only followed one person alone. gepard was standing in front, his hands joined with his would-be partner. despite the absence of the morning sun, you could have sworn the entire venue could have been lit up by gepard's smile alone.

you remembered how happy he got whenever you compared his smile to the sun. he never stopped smiling at you, afterward.

"do you, gepard landau, take auberon chevalier as your lawfully wedded spouse?” right as the officiant finished his words did gepard’s eyes finally meet yours, and it was almost as if the both of you were transported back to the first time you met each other.

gepard’s eyes seemed to widen at the sight of you, that you noticed that he never replied to the officiant’s words. “captain landau?” the crowd seemed perturbed at the sudden pause, just as you could feel your heart beat loudly against your chest.

there was a hint of despondency in his eyes as he met yours, and you could feel your breath hitch. in truth, you had half expected that the reason why you decided to show up to his wedding in the very planet you swore never to return to was to change his mind, but looking at him right now … you knew that would have been such a selfish thing to do.

“sorry, i do.” after a few moments, you watched as gepard finally managed to tear his gaze away from you. the officiant seemed relieved that nothing seemed to be going awry and continued on. “and do you, auberon chevalier…”

still, despite all— you were happy that someone had picked up gepard’s heart after you had impetuously stomped all over his, something you could never forgive yourself for.

even when the sight before you tore your heart to shreds, you were unbelievably happy that gepard had found someone he would feel so strongly about, and most importantly, someone who would not drop his heart like how you did.

you hadn’t realized that the officiant had finally pronounced them as spouses to one another until you heard the crowd go wild in cheers. gepard had finally kissed his spouse, as the people around you grew even wilder in screams.

in another life, you thought to yourself just as you finally stopped blinking back the tears that had threatened to spill from your eyes.

in another life, if i could love him again, i’d love him right this time.

written by carlyle (@particular-one) copyright: all content belongs to particular-one on tumblr (2023)

#reboops!!#[] 🖇 .#I CANNOT. AUTHOR HOW DARE YOU #IM NOT WELL IM SICK IM HURLING IM HUNCHING OVER THE TOILET AND DROWNING MYSELF IN THE WATER STOP #DOCTOR DOCTOR SOMEONE ANYONE HELP ME IM DYING MY HEART IS HURTING SO BAD IM #HOW DARE YOU WRITE THIS IN SUCH A BEAUTIFUL WRITING STYLE AND HIT ME WITH A WOODEN TABLE IN THE FACE INBETWEEN THE LINES OF IT ALL #IM GONNA STUDY LAW JUST TO SUE YOU FOR BREAKING MY HEART MIND BODY AND SOUL OP/J #(on the other hand this was absolutely beautiful in a soul-crushing way that has me trying not to drown in my tears oh my god)#i hope you have the loveliest day night week month year decade millennia of ur life author #/gen #this was so fucking good i’m gonna go try and mend my breaking heart with fluff now thank u #I JUST. SOBSSKSHLDGDKSHJSBSJB 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#i’m never getting over this piece. this was so sick of tumblr to recommend this to me/hj//silly

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bunny-1111 · 4 months ago

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I love love love your writing! I was just re-reading “Theodore Nott who…” and possibly wondered if you could expand on how he reminds reader that he will propose when they are finished school. Kicking my legs giggling thinking about that 😂

Aww, thank you. Of course, I can. Let me know if you have any other requests!! PS I wrote a whole thing, ready to push post now. It was perfect, but something happened, and it didn't save, so I had to rewrite it the best I could, I hope you enjoy this anyway AH I'M SO MAD 🥲,

...

Theodore, at age 11, thought you were the prettiest girl in school

Theodore, at age 13, began to navigate his not-so-small crush on you

Theodore, at age 16, felt his heart in his stomach as he swallowed his pride and finally asked you out

That is where our story starts.

By 17, you got comfortable enough and started spending the night in each other's dorms; one random Tuesday morning, Theo woke up earlier than usual, you were still fast asleep. Theodore was a very productive person. If he woke up early, he would get up, make a coffee, go for a run around the grounds, come back, and shower, all before most had even opened their eyes. As he reached for the corner of his side of the blanket and moved to start his day, you felt him, causing you to stir, your brows quickly scrunching, your body automatically moving towards him; you reached for him even in sleep. Something in his mind slowed, something in his heart raced, something in his soul shook. Dropping the blanket in his hand, he surrendered to you, laying so close, gently caressing your face, feeling peace in your dream state. Then it dawned on him, if I married her, this would be the last face I would see before I slept and the first I would see when I woke up.

That's when it began.

His constant reminders of marriage.

That very morning.

When your eyes fluttered open, Theos wide eyes already met yours, it would've scared you in his eyes weren't so dreamy.

"Good morn-" you start

"Marry me" he interrupted

"What?!" you laughed out. It was too early for this

"Marry me?" he smiled

"shut up" you laughed, reaching your hand under your pillow, softly throwing it at him

"Come on, why not?" he pleaded

"Theodore, we're still in high school, that's why", you smile

"Fine, you fucking time waster, but after we get out of here, I'm gonna marry you", he insisted

You thought it was a passing thought.

Something he wouldn't bring up again.

Boy, were you wrong, he proved that time and time again over the next two years.

Sitting in class, he would peck a kiss on your cheek from behind you. "Kisses for the Mrs" he would whisper with a smile before returning to his own seat

In the great hall, he slapped Matteo's hand away as you and he both reached for the same dish. "Can't you see my fiance wants that slice?" he grits, serving you before Matteo puts it on his own plate. "You aren't fucking engaged?" A defeated Matteo retorts, arms out in confusion. "Don't start", you apologise on behalf of you and your pretend husband

In Hogsmeade, you and Pansy tried on dresses. Theodore was walking past when he saw you in the mirror. Letting himself in, he slithered behind you, his reflection joining yours in the mirror, slipping a hand down your waist. "You know, if you look this good in this dress, I can only imagine how good you'd look in white," he'd smirk, "you know when we get married," he muttered on his way to the register, leaving money, giving the workers strict instructions to charge him for any dress you bought, for them to keep the change too.

When Theodore had early morning Quittich practice, he would leave a steaming cup of coffee or tea on your bedside, accompanied by a note: " To keep you warm while I'm gone, good morning, my better half, Mrs Nott."

When you studied in the libary, you had a very distinct look of focus. He would lay a bored hand on his face, "Come on, let's go for a smoke", he whined, "No, Theodore, We have final exams soon. You should be studying. Go without me if you want" you explain, fingers pointing at text on his book, "not going without you" he said frustrated under his breath. Theodore kept testing, blabbing nonsense, attempting to distract you, staring at you instead of the open books. "Why are we wasting time? You could be pregnant by now," he said, his free hand twirling your hair. This caused you to slam your book closed, looking up at him, your eyes widening. "What!?" he laughed. "If I had it my way, we would've tied the knot last year, and we would have a kid on the way", he continued; you did nothing but shake your head and fight your growing smile.

Walking through the gardens, you pointed at some hydrangeas. "My favourite flowers" you smiled. "I know" he smiled "I'd walk down the aisle with hydrangeas in my hand," you say softly, leaning in to smell the flowers, "When we get married, I will" you say picking some to take with you. Theodore could've fainted on the spot. 'When we get married,' your voice repeated in his mind, pulling you up into a deep kiss

When you finally graduated, Theodore pulled your father aside. If there was something Teddy valued, it was tradition; he was officially asking for your hand.

Returning to you, smiling ear to ear, he suggests you join him on a walk. Reaching the tree near the Black Lake, he kissed your forehead, one hand intertwined with yours, the other hand in his pocket, fidgeting with a small box.

A box containing a ring.

That he had bought on the year prior, now all that was left to do was kneel.

unedited today, sorry for any incorrection I'm too tired to reread or edit rn LOL

in my mind me and teddy r married

him in a suit KILL ME NOW one chance PLS

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starboye · 2 months ago

Text

pairing: loser!simon riley x male reader

request: I am on my hands and knees give me loser!simon Riley having the BIGGEST crush and being SO weird about it my soul needs it nobody writes him like you do

warnings: just a lil pervert simon

directors note: and awww i bet others writers write loser!simon pretty good too and also this could be read as gn reader

he wasn't immune to having crushes or anything it's just he's never really had one that's all, but when he saw you one day on base he was smitten by your looks and it was pretty hard to hide it from the general public.

wherever you went simon followed close behind without making it to obvious, if you went to lunch so did he, if you had to go to the bathroom so did he, and god forbid he'd see you hanging out with some of the new rookies, with even a mask being over his face the rookies could feel his menacing stare and immediately moved from you.

sometimes even he will just stand there and stare at you, like no joke just stare at you while he's leaned against a wall, watching you move around the room of other men, picking up fallen papers and putting them in their rightful spots, and if you magically look up over at him, catching him watching you with intense gaze he'll be out the the room before you can blink.

he occasionally shows up at your room sometimes with little gifts in hand, maybe he had an extra apple that he wanted to give to you or even he made a bracelet out of some wire, barely even speaking a word before scurrying back to his room and slamming the door behind him, heart pounding in his chest as your hand had grazed his.

now i wanted to keep this out of the mix but there were some questionable times he had, like once sneaking into your room while you were out on a mission and crawling onto your bed, sniffing at your pillows and blankets while palming himself, heavy moans being absorbed by your amazing scented comforter.

acting as if he hadn't just been the biggest pervert once you get back, and it's not like anyone is gonna know i mean he made your bed back exactly how he found it, but also not without getting a little souvenir before leaving, you may not know it but he has a pair of your underwear tucked away between his mattress for a special (every) night, just smelling any part of you is enough to make him crazy.

on the topic of scent, he's ashamed to know that he's so obsessed with the way you smell, he knows all the body washes you use and usually knows when you're in the room just by the faint smell, he's just gotten so down bad but can you really blame him when you always look so good, it's almost like you want him to want you.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09

#loser!simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #gay #x male #male reader #bottom male reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost headcanons

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takes1 · 9 days ago

Note

Hii, I wanted to start off saying that I love your works! You’re writing is impeccable and I’m glad I was able to stumble upon it! 🤍

I wanted to request a Kageyama x reader where they are best friends and there is a lot of mutual pining. I think it would be fun seeing them get jealous and yearn for each other while tension develops around them.

kageyama x reader mutual pining

thank you so so much!!! i'm glad you like it :,) i rlly liked this req!

warnings. none, sfw. minors DNI

details. best friends / mutual pining / jealous!kageyama / distracted!studying / track team!reader / classmate!reader / kageyama teasing you / mutual crushing / tension / questionable touches / 3k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my request box.

"Are you two dating?"

It was a question you were both used to handling, at this point.

A kind, but curt, "No, we're just friends."

Despite how nice you were to anybody who found the need to ask, you wanted nothing more than to strangle the poor soul who started the official rumor that Tobio was your secret boyfriend. You had been friends for years, but it was only just now a problem.

You liked to think it didn't affect much between you. But that was a half-truth; it didn't affect how much you saw each other, but there was this new, sensitive layer to everything you said and did.

The bell rang for lunch and he was standing at your desk, still trying to shake that incessant question. That was the second time today somebody had asked if you were dating.

Tobio swiped his favorite pencil of yours and twirled it between his fingers. He looked like he wanted to ask you something, but his presence grew quieter, darker at the next unwanted presence.

"(Y/n)!" A couple friends from the guys' track team you hadn't seen since your last practice came into the classroom with a few other students, also looking for their friends for the free period.

You grinned and waved them over, taking to a knee on your seat.

"I didn't get to talk to you Wednesday, but I wanted to say congrats on your record!"

"Yeah, that was sick."

Only you could hear Tobio sigh. It was subtle, through his nose, and impatient.

They were excited about the new record you set for the school in your event, making technical jokes, being a little too sparing with the compliments.

You passed a look to him, grin frozen for a second. He was eyeing your friends, head down toying with all the stuff on your desk, glancing up at them through his brow at times, pissed off. He looked like an asshole. Your track friends were picking up on it, too.

"Thanks, guys," You waved them off, trying to be nice enough to make up for Tobio, "See ya at practice."

It was quiet between you until they were completely out of the room. You tried to stifle your smile at what you could only rationalize as jealousy, or possessiveness.

"You gonna be okay?" You joked and sat back down, just to lighten the mood. He would only get defensive if you were direct.

His gaze softened, eyes gently searching your own face as he crafted a tentative, late reply.

"Yeah," Was all.

The subject changed quick, your shared tension simmering back down, "What's the test over?"

The pencil slipped from his fingers and spun to the floor with a quiet clatter- he dove after it and bumped the back of his head on the way up.

Your hands stifled your amused grin in a flash. He was onto you anyway when he resurfaced, staying in a squat, embarrassment taking the form of a frustrated attempt to flick you in the head-- you slapped his wrist away with an uncovered laugh.

"Stop-," You grabbed the other wrist snaking around to finish the job, eye contact friendly and serious at first, "Stop it."

The look he returned seared into you.

It was too much. Tobio gave up quicker than usual. You let out a sigh, both of you unable to joke around like that for long anymore.

This was commonplace behavior at this point- he liked teasing in the form of physical contact, his specialty being flicks, jabs, soft punches, grabs. You preferred the verbal alternative. Insults to his intelligence of all kinds were your favored choice.

"It should be over chapters six through... ten, I think. All the methods, at least."

"I'm so fucked..." He sighed almost immediately.

You rolled your eyes, "That's your problem, you give up too early and don't study."

His pretty blue irises scanned your open notebook, full of highlighted paragraphs, hand written notes, and graphs he couldn't read.

"You hear me?" Your two finger nudge was ignored. He just let his shoulder be moved, as if a ghost was up to it, "Study?"

"Do you even know what that word means?" You chortled.

"I know what study means," He hissed, only making it funnier.

"I'm sure you do," You teased with a stretch over the back of your chair. You leaned far so you could pop your back, and settled down with a groan.

Tobio was looking at your shirt. You adjusted it, pulling it, fluffing it. When he realized you were aware of his staring, he sighed and looked elsewhere.

"Go eat your lunch," You put your cheek against your fist.

It served as a gentle reminder to leave you alone or people would start talking about you again.

"Why can't I eat it over here?" He squinted at the rest of the room, full of groups of people eating their lunches with their friends.

Why was it only different with you two? He could scope two other guy/girl pairs in this room that weren't dating, to his knowledge. While he was at it, he watched for anybody that might start another rumor.

"Well-," You also eyed the room, "Fine, hurry up though."

Tobio quickly unzipped his bag from two desks over and threw the container to you without warning. You caught it, but it was only thanks to your hand-eye coordination. Good form aside, it could've been disastrous.

"Don't throw shit-," You started, but he was hot on your tail before you could call him a dumbass, equipped with an argument as he swiped a chair and pulled it right next to you.

"You caught it."

"Yeah but-,"

"You caught it-," He shoveled about a third of his lunch in his mouth all at once, "I'knew you woul' catch i'."

He could truly be such an ogre. You tried to act disgusted, but there was something cute about his lack of manners- and your suspicion that he may have actually thought harder about that throw than you wanted to give him credit for.

Through the next half of lunch, you watched a mix of clips on your phone from the last year's Olympics and national level matches of multiple sports. Maybe it was because you ended with volleyball that made him so hesitant to stop watching videos and let you alone so that you could study for the exam.

"I dunno why you're studying now," He used one forearm to wipe his chin, the other hand to flip, disinterested, through the pages in your notebook, "It's Friday."

A moment to digest that. He sat, waiting for you to respond to him with an emptiness behind his eyes.

"And...? The exam is Monday."

He nodded.

"You're going to fail. And I'll have no sympathy for you," You laughed, unable to understand what was clogging up the neurons in his brain to trigger such a severe blockage of learning.

Tobio was quiet and still for so long that you were starting to get some quality time in, reading over your notes, highlighting from your text, making some new notes for later. You thought that there was a possible balance to be struck between how attractive somebody was, and how much intelligence they were allowed. Clearly, he was all pretty face, tiny brain.

You glanced a couple of times across your shoulder to him. He wasn't on his phone, and he wasn't looking at you, you could deduce after a few minutes.

It felt tense anytime you weren't speaking to each other. That's why the two of you made an unacknowledged point to talk often, or do an activity together. It was made of lengthy conversations about your respective sports, talking about your own separate friend groups, or going on a run right after school- not much in between.

"What are you doing this weekend?"

The question was quiet, like he was embarrassed, or mulling over exactly how to ask it the whole time. When you looked at him, you were glad he was avoiding you by staring at your notebook. You didn't want him to see the initial reaction on your face.

Tobio didn't sound too terribly invested, but you considered that he could've been asking it that way on purpose.

You hated when it got weird like this. It was like you were confirming the rumors. It was his fault for being so hot and asking weird questions.

All he wanted to do was study. You blew a long breath into the cold evening air and watched it rise until it spiraled into nothing. All he wanted to do was study.

Your foot was tapping, impatient, focused on the new chill creeping down your neck past your coat. It was ten minutes past when he wanted to meet you after his practice. The walk to the library wasn't long, but it was Friday and you had some shows to watch, some supper to eat. You enjoyed playing the intellectual high ground around him, yes, but you had no real plans to study before Saturday afternoon- until he asked you.

As you shivered outside, squinting at the frosty, dead grass, you realized you wouldn't do this for anyone else. That freaked you out just a little.

"Hey," He was jogging up to you from the gym- you turned to the side to face him in the covered walkway.

You sighed, just to express your disdain, but you were unable to control a vicious, goofy tremble in the process.

Instead of the look you were trying to conjure -apologetic, penitent-, he broke out into a half-cocked smile. But Tobio didn't acknowledge anything. No a smartass comment about your giant puffy coat, no jab at your dramatics, not even a mockery shiver.

All he did was bump your shoulder and walk in the direction of the library.

You lagged behind, all of a sudden warmer than you needed to be, and mulling over how cute he looked when he smiled. A genuine one. Not a sly, ill-intended snicker or the smirk he had when he stole your things and held them over your head.

This creeping fondness had to be shaken out of you.

Your legs carried you stronger, faster, to catch up to him. He hardly had a second to turn and look at you before you gave him a playful shove back, your grin ungovernable in such cheesy conditions.

"What was that look for?" You laughed, dodging a smack to the back of the head for such a big and surprising shove. You usually didn't return his touchiness, which in turn kept it at bay, so he took a minute to decide if he wanted to escalate things. You stayed ready at his side as you walked, just in case.

"What look?" He mumbled, careful not to look at you.

His hands were deep in his pockets. His jacket was zipped open, giving him some room to operate, but it was a sign of surrender. You put your guard down.

"You smiled at me," Was cautious in nature, but not in tone.

It was friendly and not indicative of anything- purely observational- but you wanted to know if there was more.

A tiny sideways glance told you so much.

Tobio's face was redder. You weren't imagining it, because he actively avoided your staring.

Hand still in his pocket, he went to shove your shoulder like usual- you dodged it with a laugh, about to punch his side, but got caught short when he grabbed you.

"I dunno what you're talking about," His voice was dripping in sarcasm.

His arm was wrapping around your side, keeping you from fighting back, grabbing firm at your waist through his pocket and pulling you into his warm body, into his jacket with him.

It knocked you completely off balance. Stumbling, pressed into the side of his chest for a few moments, you were trying to keep up with him before he did you the favor of squeezing you closer, taking most of your weight.

He rubbed his arm real tight along your side; it was all you could feel, aside from the floating sensation. His strength took you by surprise.

"This is why people think we're together!"

You pushed out of his loosening grip at a good time. The joke was starting to feel too intimate. You were at your destination, too.

"Well," His defensiveness was so exaggerated it looked like he was upset you wiggled away from him, "I'm not gonna take my hands outta my pockets. Are you kidding me?" He scoffed, leaving you to spiral in the act all by yourself, "It's cold."

As you entered the building, it dawned on you that it was going to be one of those things that didn't get talked about again. You had a built up quite a few moments like that over the past few years- but lately, they seemed to be a more frequent occurrence.

The table you chose was out of the way and quiet. It was far away from the sports section or any screens so neither of you were tempted by any distractions. Tobio took it upon himself to grab the extra book you needed before you got settled in.

You had time to sit and think about it. His argument made no sense. Many arguments wouldn't have held well to that little move he pulled.

When he put his arm around you, his strong, warm arm-- you were breathing in a little too much cologne, mixed with his sweat that you never seemed to mind the smell of-- the smile in his eyes but not his mouth-- the mint on his breath. Was all that really for a bad joke? Just an embrace between friends?

It was all you could think about, but you knew you had to get it together when you saw him coming back from across the library.

He got stopped short by a girl you didn't know. She asked him something and pointed at the shelf.

Your nails raked at the lining on your pants. Your eye twitched and you knew you were too far gone. Your eye was twitching at some girl talking to him.

She reached up on her tippy toes for the novel she wanted.

Sure, he was tall and she was short, but was that really necessary to communicate the point?

"Ugh," You spat- you couldn't help it, you hated those girls that acted like babies for attention. It made everyone look bad.

Tobio grabbed the novel and handed it to her like a dirty rag, chin turned towards you with a big frown that said 'Yeah, yikes.'

You were beyond thankful he hadn't fallen under her spell. But, on the downside, he caught you staring. Staring hard.

When he returned to your table and took the seat across from you, he already looked like he was about to address it. That tiny smirk said it all.

"Don't look so upset," He scanned over your unamused face and reeled it back, opting for a softer, candid, "She's not my type."

This was getting weird and stilted. You both understood there had been too many mentions of dating-adjacent topics. It was about 300% more than usual. There stood a decision to make.

To take advantage of the fact that what was on your mind finally held relevance to the conversation, or to switch the subject and risk never getting the opportunity to talk about it, nor entertain it?

You tried to strike a balance between nonchalant and inquisitive, but it wasn't possible. Your fingers tapped a dull eraser onto the table. You thought it might make you feel better, but it didn't.

"Then--," In fact, you realized you couldn't ask anything at all without looking too interested.

At the last second, you pulled back, your expression impossible to read because you felt a million different ways at once, "Let's just- um-... let's start with chapter six."

He frowned, his gaze anywhere but you. The quiet was heavy.

Without a word, he cracked upon the new textbook in a similar way to yours.

You regretted it. It would be long, uphill battle trying to facilitate a conversation like that again.

As your study session passed in mostly silence, you began to gain a sense of growing respect for the newfound presence forming between you. Whatever was changing needed to develop on its own time.

♕VIP♕

@integers @yuchacco

my masterlist. my request box.

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getitoutofmymindwrites · 9 months ago

Text

The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k

Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

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...need your reassurance...

...your only focus…

...for the foreseeable future...

He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.

For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.

You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.

Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.

“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.

��What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.

“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.

“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.

Therapy was hard.

Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.

But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.

He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.

“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.

“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.

“And what were those?”

“She didn’t want to see me.”

“Did she say that?”

“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.

“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.

The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.

Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.

“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”

“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.

“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”

“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.

“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.

Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”

“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”

Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.

“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”

“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.

“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”

“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”

“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”

“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”

“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”

"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.

“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”

Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.

“Joel?”

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.

He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.

“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”

This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.

You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.

“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”

“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.

“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.

“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”

Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.

But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.

No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.

No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.

No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.

When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?

A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?

Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.

People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.

No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.

The papers are not ready.

Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.

Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.

An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?

You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.

The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?

So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?

Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?

Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.

Can you turn back time?

Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.

You know I can’t..

Sign the papers. Please.

“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”

“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.

“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.

“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”

His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.

“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”

The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.

“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.

“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”

“She asked me to leave the house.”

“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”

“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”

“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”

“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”

“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.

Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”

Fuck.

How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?

His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.

“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”

“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.

Touché.

“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.

“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.

Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.

“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”

Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.

“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.

Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”

“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.

“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.

“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.

“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”

“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.

“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”

“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.

“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”

The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”

“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”

“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”

“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”

“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.

“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”

Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.

“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.

Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”

“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.

“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.

“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.

“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.

Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.

“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.

“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.

“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.

Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.

But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.

Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”

“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.

“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.

Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?

“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.

“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”

You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?

But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.

You were right.

It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.

There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.

Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.

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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre

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peachysunrize · 3 months ago

Text

[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, fluff, ANGST ANGST, English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 7k+

A/n: so so sooo sorry for the delay of this chapter but I managed to get a long chapter out!! Hope you like it and I hope the angst hits (I’m not really good at writing angst so I need to know ur thoughts on this chapter)😭😭😭

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 8: ruins of a birthday

“Hmm,” Aemond hums, stirring in his sleep as he feels something on his face, gently going from one place to another, clearly not wanting to wake him up. “Fuck off.”

“Don’t be rude, birthday boy.” He hears you mumble against his cheek, trailing your kisses to his soft lips. “Happy birthday.”

“Hmm,” he hums again, wrapping his arms around you while he tries to kiss you sleepily, but only whines when you pull away a little, reaching to push his hair out of his face.

“A thank you would be nice, you grumpy old man,” you tease him, kissing his forehead gently as you play with his hair, holding yourself up by your elbow on his spare pillow. “I remember your first day at school—“

“Don’t,” he grunts, pushing you on your back suddenly, resting his head on your chest as he tightens his arm around your middle, breathing against your boobs while he smirks. “This is nice.”

“Yeah? Wanna cuddle the day out?” you ask, threading your fingers through his unruly wavy hair. “Or I can take care of you…all day, every hour, every minute. I’m gonna spend the day with you and spoil you rotten, Lil nerd.”

“Hmmm, how are you going to take care of me?” he asks, looking up from your chest, his sleepy blue iris staring into yours. “Because I can lock us in the room and spend the entire day in the bed with you.”

“I can give you a blowjob.” You bite your lips, wiggling your way through his embrace until he is pushed on his back and you are hovering on top of him. “A really good, soul-crushing blowjob that blows your fucking mind.”

“Really?” he whispers, his breathing heavy and quick. “How good actually are you?”

“I can show you if you are interested,” you peck his lips before trailing your lips to his jaw, noticing how his chest goes up and down with each deep breath.

“I’m more than interested.” He leans his head back on his pillow, one of his hands coming up to caress your back while you keep your lips locked on his skin, moving from his jaw to his neck. “Fuck, darling, no marks—“

“Shh.” You sink your teeth in the junction of his neck and shoulder, earning a low groan from him. “I can cover them up with a bit of makeup, now let me have some fun with you.”

You go lower, tugging on his t-shirt until he pulls it off, revealing his chest and abs to you, and you take this chance to kiss your way to his nipples, sucking on the hardening buds slowly, and you feel his cock throbbing against your hip.

You flicker your tongue around his nipple, pulling a shuddering breath out of him, and he takes this chance to bring his hand to your head, petting your hair gently.

“Don’t tease me, baby,” he says, closing his eye as you let go of his nipple with a lewd ‘pop’ sound and kiss a path down to his belly button and lower until you reach the waistline of his pajamas. You pull the fabric down with your teeth, eyes staring up at him as you do, pulling back to help him push his pants down completely. He lifts his hips up, pushing his pants and boxers down, flopping back on the bed when his cock springs free, twitching with need and desire.

“Already so hard for me,” you say, smirking at him when you find his cheeks burning, reaching to hold his heavy member in your palm before leaning down. “Happy birthday, sweet boy.”

You close your lips around the tip of his cock, flicking your tongue around the slit, making Aemond sigh in contentment. You open your mouth, letting his cock rest on your tongue as you lick the underside of it, putting on a show for him.

“Fuck, darling, please—“

“Already begging? How cute,” you say, grinning at him devilishly before letting your spit drop from your lips, smearing it all over his cock with one hand as you lean down to take him in your mouth, this time more than just his tip.

Aemond groans, feeling the warmth of your mouth engulfing him thoroughly. He throws his head back, the hand on your head pushes your hair out of your face, gently guiding you down to take more of him, and you oblige silently, humming around his cock as you take him deeper and deeper, gagging slightly when the tip of his cock reaches the back of your throat.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this.” He lets out a breathless chuckle, a small smile on his lips as his breathing gets more rapid and shallow.

You close your eyes as you hollow your cheeks, stroking whatever you can not take, humming and stroking his slim hips and abs, and trying your best to ignore the wetness that pools into your panties.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he whispers, his face twisting with pleasure when your hand goes lower and cups his balls, squeezing and rubbing them in a way that makes his mouth go dry, and you do as he says, opening your eyes to look up at him. “There she is, my gorgeous girl.”

You feel him twitching in your mouth when you hum again, the vibration going straight to his core. He is close, closer than he should be but with the way you are sucking him off, he can no longer hold himself back.

“I’m— I’m coming, fuck—“

He groans, pulling you up by your hair and you gasp, taking this as your cue to stroke him with both hands. “Come for me, love, come on my face.”

His hips stutter upwards, his free hand fists the bedsheets, and his toes curl, spurts of cum coating your face while he lets out broken moans and groans. His back arches off of the bed a little, and your heart beats in your chest faster as you look at how beautiful he is with his reddened cheeks and gaping mouth.

“Shit, baby, I’m—“ he starts to apologize when he sees the state you are in, sitting up immediately to pull you in his lap, grabbing his t-shirt to wipe his cum off of your face. “Fuck me, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” you chuckle, grabbing the fabric from him to wipe away the remnants of his seed before you look at him lovingly. “I’m okay, baby, don’t worry! I enjoyed it, did you?”

“Of course!” he replies immediately, his grin matching yours. “I didn’t enjoy it, I fucking loved it. You’re a menace for this birthday gift.”

“I’m glad! But—“ You give him a kiss on his lips before wiggling out of his embrace to reach for the box on the ground, picking it up before you hand it to Aemond and crawl back onto his lap. “Happy birthday!”

“A gift?”

“It’s not something huge, just a little thing to remind you how much you mean to me!” you explain, watching how he pulls on the ribbons of the box and takes the lid off before his gaze softens as he looks at his gift.

He pulls a polaroid out; it is a picture of him with his siblings and you at Daeron’s fourth birthday, grinning at the camera with cake smeared all over your faces. He then reaches for the book inside the box, huffing out a small laugh when he finds out which book it is — the philosophy book of Maester Orwyle, identical to the one you poured coffee on a few weeks ago.

“I hope it’s not too cheesy, but I thought—“

He silences you with a deep kiss, one of his hands going to the back of your neck, pressing your lips further to his as he moves them in sync. Aemond licks your bottom lip, flipping you over so he can hover on top of you with your lips still locked until you part them and let his tongue slide against yours, exploring your mouth.

“It’s amazing, darling,” he says, looking at you with a softness he never knew he could muster, but the adoration in his gaze is evident, and the warmth that drips from his look is enough to melt your worries away.

“There’re still some pictures left in there! Come on, look at them.” You bite your lip, suddenly remembering how you called him a nickname that is probably too soon to say, averting your eyes from his face to look down, finding him fully naked. “And put your clothes back on! Unfortunately your dick is talking to me and we’ll be suspicious if we take hours to join the family.”

“Magic dick, huh?” He drops next to you on the bed, pulling on his pants before he lies back down with the box on his chest, pulling another polaroid out. “Oh, fuck you, why did you choose this photo?”

“Because! Look at you! It was the time you wanted to dye your hair with Helaena—“

“I hate you—“

“Na uh, you…” You pause, looking at him with soft eyes before you distract him from the unfinished sentence. “You were so cute though! You looked exactly like your Mum with your short orange hair.”

“You are mean,” he whines, looking back at you, finding you lying on your side as you smile at him. “I don’t think I can ever get tired of seeing you like this.”

“Like what?” You cuddle closer until your faces are inches away, your noses brushing against each other as he looks at you as if you have hung the sun in his sky.

“Like you feel safe and happy with me.”

“I am safe and happy with you.”

“Happy motherfucking birthday, you giant lizard!” Aegon whistles, earning a pinch on his side from Alicent with a disapproving glare. “Sorry, Ma, but look at him! Twenty-six years old and still a long way to go to be as cool as his big bro.”

“Ignore him.” His mother walks towards Aemond, putting her hands on his shoulders to pull him down in her arms, hugging him tightly. “Happy birthday, my darling boy.”

“Thank you.” He hugs her back, smiling softly at her and he notices you and Helaena giggling from the corner of his eye, shaking his head a little before he thanks his mother again.

“Look what we have got here!” Rhaena’s voice makes Aemond and Alicent break their hug, standing next to each other while they watch Rhaenyra and her family walk downstairs. Rhaena takes the lead and walks towards him, pulling him in a quick hug, “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” he nods, patting her back awkwardly, clearing his throat as he looks at the family all together, everyone grimacing at each other as if the mere thought of the whole family together bitters their moods.

Jace is next; he congratulates Aemond with a hand on his shoulder, earning a nod in response from the birthday boy. Others do not say much, a cold happy birthday is all. But he can see the malicious glint in Daemon’s eyes when he appears out of nowhere, standing close to Viserys while he keeps his gaze locked on Aemond before glancing behind him, looking at you and Helaena.

“Son,” Viserys nods at Aemond, the room falls silent, no one dares to say a thing, and for the first time he feels uneasy when you walk beside him, trying to act cool and congratulate him, hut his father interrupts you, “A lovely day, don’t you think? We’ll celebrate later at night, come, Rhaenyra I wish to walk outside.”

His half sister and his uncle leave, but the way Daemon shakes his head and chuckles under his breath while looking between you and Aemond makes him uncomfortable, as if he knows something he should not.

“Aren’t you lucky, nephew? You could have had a wife to celebrate with, but now—“

“He doesn’t need a wife to be happy, he has us,” you cut him off, letting Daeron take your place by Aemond’s side as you walk back towards the girls, “He is lucky, we’ll make his birthday one of the most memorable days for him.”

“Absolutely,” Daemon smirks, “I have no doubt it will be a very memorable day,” and with that, he follows his brother outside the room.

“I have something to take care of for tonight’s dinner, I assume you kids know how to take care of yourself,” Alicent says, reaching to give Aemond a kiss on his forehead before she leaves with Cole following her.

“So!” Jace starts, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “What do you guys say to a game of Tennis? We pair up, and I’m sure I can beat your asses one by one.”

“You? Beating Aemond? In your dreams, asshole,” Aegon says, rolling his eyes at his nephew, “But I suppose we can have fun doing this, right? What do you say, birthday boy?”

“I don’t know,” Aemond shrugs and turns to look at you, “Do you know how to play?”

“What do you take me for, Targaryen?” You reply, raising your eyebrows at him, giving him a challenging look which you know he is secretly enjoying, “I may not be of a really rich family but I grew up with Hel. We are quite the pair.”

“Fine, let’s go!” Daeron whistles, throwing his arms around his brothers’ shoulders before the group moves towards the path leading to the courts, the Targaryen twins and Velaryon brothers following you outside.

“Good thing I packed you a pretty little Tennis skirt, huh? I can totally feel Aemond losing his mind just by looking at you,” Helaena whispers in your ear, giggling when you shush her, trying to fight off the smile growing on your lips, “He is so pussy whipped, it’s disgusting!” “Yeah, well, he’s got a really hot girlfriend, what can I say?” you nudge her, laughin quietly before Lucerys speaks up, making your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach.

“Aemond has a girlfriend? When did that happen?”

Aemond stops dead in his tracks and so does Aegon but with one glare on your way, you and Helaena leave, not wishing to look suspicious. Aemond and his brother turn around to look at Luke, both of them nervous and anxious and with every second that passes, Aemond feels his body tremble more and more.

“I don’t,” he replies harshly, louder than he intended to, and unknown to him, you can hear his response from the distance between you, “I can’t be bothered to be in a relationship now.”

“And that’s none of your fucking business, weirdo,” Aegon jumps into the conversation, giving Luke a sarcastic smile before he forces Aemond to stop glaring at their younger nephew and move away, whispering in his brother’s ear, “Don’t worry, no one knows, yeah?”

“It’s stupid,” Aemond replies, rubbing his hand against his face, “Why should I even think about hiding her, let alone doing it?”

“Because our Grandpa is a pain in the fucking ass,” Aegon shrugs, gently tapping behind Aemond’s neck affectionately, “Don’t worry, bro. You’ll figure this shit out. Just don’t be too touchy with her, ey? It’s just one fucking night, we gonna get through this together.”

“Yeah,” he looks up from his shoes, finding you and Hel waiting for them outside one of the courts, “It’s gonna be a really rough night.”

“Hey,” you say, giving him a questioning look when you notice his tense shoulders, “You okay, Little nerd?”

“Yeah, fine,” he shrugs, giving a soft quick smile before he motions for you to enter the court, a ghost of a smirk making its way to his face as he watches you sway your hips in a very evidently teasing way.

“So! We gotta team up!” Rhaena says, finding the balls and rackets ready on the benches, “obviously I’m with my sister.”

“And I’m with—“

“Me! Me!” Aegon nudges Aemond before he cuts Helaena off and wraps his arms around his younger sister, “We need to kick some ass, sis.”

“Oh, fuck yeah! Let’s show them who owns this place, right, Eggy?”

“Yup, girl, go get our rackets. We gonna fuck them up so bad,” Aegon laughs when Baela makes a disgusting face at him, walking to the other side of the net, waiting for the first team to get in place, “Who you playing with, birthday boy?”

“Team up with Aemond,” Daeron tells you, sitting on the bench next to the fences, “I’m not gonna play, it’s not in my style.”

“As if you don’t have the most expensive racket among us,” Jacaerys says, rolling his eyes at the youngest Targaryen before he grabs Luke by the shoulders and they go to sit down next to Daeron, waiting for Baela and Rhaena to play with the oldest siblings.

“Hey! I just wanna let Hel’s bestie have some fun!” Daeron throws his hands up, sticking his tongue out for you when you snicker and stand beside Aemond.

“Thank you so much for your generosity, asshole.”

“My pleasure! You gotta have some fun, right?”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s got a mouth on him. I can beat him for you, you know?” Aemond whispers, leaning down so no one hears him.

“Is that right?” You give him a teasing smile, humming and looking up at him, finding him blushing under your gaze, “That would be so hot though. I mean, imagine your brother’s blood on your white Polo Tennis shirt.”

“Actually, I can wipe the blood off with my money. Does that turn you on?” He narrows his eye at you, his silver hair shining under the burning sunlight before he asks you silently to hold his racket before he starts shifting his hair into a low steady bun, making his shirt rise up and you get a really good peek at his abs.

“It does actually,” you reply, sinking your teeth in your bottom lip, handing him his racket, “So you better keep your distance from me, I might jump on you.”

“Oh, no, so scary!” he pouts a little, side-eying Aegon and Helaena as they play with the twins, “I desperately hope it does happen.”

“Cheeky brat,” you chuckle, sending him a sly wink, walking away from him towards the benches, sitting down without looking back at Aemond, knowing he will definitely follow you.

“They’re a power couple,” Daeron says, watching Helaena and Aegon argue over the missed shots like kids, Helaena twisting Aegon’s ear with her fingers.

“Nothing beats Aemond and Alys though, right?” Jace laughs, “She couldn’t even swing the goddamn racket! Man, Aemond, you had so much patience with that one.”

You tense in your seat, glancing at Aemond who only looks unbothered by Jace’s remark — silly or not — but you can see it in his eye that there is something brewing in his blue iris.

“Well, lucky us! We have this babe to make up for that witch’s mistakes,” Daeron nudges you, grabbing his cap before dropping it on your head, “She’s a pro! Don’t fuck with her cause she bites.”

“Not that I would mind—“

“Enough,” Aemond interrupts Jace, the icy glare he sent in his nephew’s way is enough to make the young boy shake.

“Ooo, man, are you jealous?” Luke jumps in, snorting when he sees Aemond’s clenched jaw, “I mean I don’t think having a thing for your sister’s bestie is something you should really do—“

“I’m nothing more than a friend to him. I understand him, I think that says a lot about our relationship right? You know, what’s that thing called when you understand someone? When you’re willing to talk and show them you care?” You raise your eyebrows at Luke, leaning forward to look him dead in the eye, before gasping and humming sarcastically, “It’s called empathy! I’m sure the concept is lost on you but not me.”

“Right, kidos! Buckle up, you’re next! We gonna make our birthday boy a sour looooooooooser!” Aegon announces, making his way towards where you are sitting, sweat dripping from his nose on his shirt, “Come on, I’m on the right fucking track, baby.”

“Ew, you’re just fucking disgusting,” Helaena shakes her head at his older brother, “But he’s right. Sorry, ladies, not a fair game I know! A junkie and a professional player make a powerful team.”

“I’m not a junkie!”

“Then prove it or Aemond will beat our asses!”

“Oh, come on!” Rhaena whines, pulling on the zipper on the side of your dress gently, “This is not just a formal party! It’s Aemond’s birthday, we need to have some fun!”

“And having fun doesn’t mean smoking whatever that is in my room!” Helaena says, clasping her butterfly clips on her wavy hair, the soft, shiny strands falling around her shoulders, “We should take this fun to the boys.”

“Babe, we both know Aegon won’t let us take even one whiff of this if he gets his hands on it,” You chuckle, thanking Rhaena before you walk towards where you have left your heels, sitting on the edge of the bed to put them on.

“Actually, I’m just trying to avoid getting high before having a meal with that man,” Hel shrugs, her golden dress hugging her curves beautifully as she twirls and asks for final approval, “besides, Otto and Uncle Gwayne are coming, and I seriously don’t wanna make a fool of myself!”

“You’ll do just fine,” Baela says, putting her hands on her hips, “It’s not Viserys you should be worried about. He can’t do much, but my father? Keep an eye on him.”

“I doubt he’ll do anything irrational tonight,” Rhaena reassures Hel, resting her hands on the silver-haired girl’s shoulder, “He might try to annoy the living life out of Otto but that’s it.” “I just—”

“Darling—Oh,” Aemond barges into the room, lips parted in surprise when he finds you and his sister in the company of his cousins, “Ladies.” “Hey! You probably shouldn’t be here, darling brother,” Helaena says through gritted teeth, trying her best to cover the mess Aemond nearly made, “I’m quite busy, maybe you should talk with her, right?”

“Yes, absolutely, darling sister,” Aemond then looks at you, extending his hands for you to take, and you do, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing out loud, “I just wanted to know your opinion on something if that’s alright.”

“Yes, yeah, perfect! Let’s go,” You walk side by side outside the room, closing the door behind you as you follow him towards his room, not daring to even look at each other just in case.

“You look so gorgeous,” Aemond says, pressing you against the door as soon as he shut it, looking down at you with nothing but pure affection in his eye, “All this for me?” “Yup,” you wrap your arms around his neck, smiling from ear to ear, “Anything for my man.”

“I might lock you up,” he leans down, brushing his nose against you while his grip tightens on your hips, “You look too good to let you leave this room.”

“Isn’t that right? Well, too bad for you, Aemond Targaryen, I’m invited to a very important dinner and it’s my boyfriend’s birthday, he’ll be so upset if you lock his girlfriend up in your room.”

“Will he now?” he chuckles lowly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he starts kissing and nibbling on your skin, mindful not to leave any marks, “poor guy, he doesn’t know I can throw his girl on my bed and fuck her ‘till sunrise. I pity him, truly, you’re even wearing green, my…” “Maybe I just wanted to impress someone,” you scratch his nape, humming softly as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, enjoying the subtle touch.

“Consider me impressed,” he whispers in your ear, kissing your earlobe before he brings his face back up, pressing his lips to yours gently, tasting the sweet lipgloss from your lips, “It’s been such a long time since I’ve felt this happy on my birthday.”

“Even while you were with Alys?”

“What?” he asks, taken back by your sudden question. The only time you have ever mentioned his ex was when you were hesitant to get into a relationship with him, but now, it shocks him to his core, “Why would you say that?” “I didn’t mean it like that, Aemond—”

“No, you clearly have been thinking about her for some time,” he lets go of your hips, stepping back to sit on his bed, “What’s going on?”

“Aemond I…” you sigh, resting your head on the door as you ponder about what to say, “I didn’t mean it like that. Everything is new about our relationship and I… I don’t want to sound bitchy but when they mention Alys…I just feel like there’s a lot that is left unsaid about her and by extension left unsaid about you.”

“I’ve never lied to you, I’ve been open about-about everything! Where does this sudden insecurity come from?” Aemond asks you, huffing from his nose as he watches you scoff and shake your head in disbelief. “Insecurity? Aemond, all I meant was that if you felt happy with Alys too! You don’t have to put a fucking mask on when you are around me!” “Of course I was fucking happy!” he yells, hiding his face between his hands, “I wouldn’t think about marriage if I wasn’t happy!”

“But you just said—” “What is this? A fucking trial because I wanted to show I appreciate you and how much I care about you? I just wanted to make you feel special because you are special to me,” he replies, shaking his head before he lets out a water chuckle, “I don’t even know what to think.” “Little nerd, please just—” As soon as you try to reach for him, he stands up, and for the first time you take a good look at his outfit; nothing too special just a dark grey button-up with black pants, but it suits Aemond so well in a way that makes your heart clench tightly in your chest.

“I’m leaving, don’t be late,” with that he leaves you alone in his room.

Waiting in the corner of the dining hall with a glass of champagne while everyone greets — or tries given the family feud — Otto and his oldest son, Gwayne, is not how you thought your boyfriend’s birthday was going to be spent.

You try to make yourself as small as you can, not making eye contact with anyone while gazing out of the large windows, waiting for everyone to shake hands and appear happy.

You spot Aemond on the other side of the hall, giving his Uncle Gwayne a side hug before he steps back, watching as Daeron throws himself in his uncle’s arms. But that is not what catches your attention the most — it is Otto who approaches Aemond slowly, an emotionless expression on his face as he extends his hand for his grandson, waiting for a handshake. Aemond nods and shakes his hand, reaching to grab a glass of champagne himself when the waitress walks past him.

Suddenly, his eye finds you, and you feel as if he’s pulling you in just by a glance. His gaze is drowning in emotions, and even from such a distance you can feel him tugging at your heart.

“Trouble in paradise?” Helaena appears next to you, resting her head on the wall before she reaches and wraps her arm around your middle, “Talk to me, babe.”

“I think I fucked it,” you reply, frowning slightly when Aemond looks away from you, leaving you staring at him.

“Elaborate on that, because we had the same discussion a month ago,” she chuckles but when she receives only a sad smile in return, she grows quiet.

“I brought up Alys again…”

“Fuck her, my gosh, I don’t know why this woman won’t leave us be…” she sighs, grabbing your glass to drown your champagne.

“I think I should be getting drunk not you,” you chuckle this time watching her face twist at the taste of the bubbles, “easy there, soldier.”

“Spit it out, gorgeous, or else I’ll make a fool of myself and we don’t want Mighty Otto busting my ass for having fun.”

“As if he’ll ever do that to you, dumbass,” you thank the waiter when they bring a full tray of champagne for you, and you and Hel both take a glass before you find enough courage to talk about the mess, “You know how I am. I open my mouth and suddenly an intrusive thought comes out.”

“How bad was this time?” She asks, wincing when you bite your lip and shake your head, “Come on, I need to do damage control as soon as possible.”

“He said he’s never been this happy on his birthday for a long time and my stupid ass decided to ask even when he was in a relationship with Alys,” you spit the words out, clearly angry at yourself for ruining the moment, “It’s not just that, everyone around here talks about her. Luke, I think, has caught up on something between me and Aem. But… the comparisons, the hiding… it’s all exhausting even though I understand why Aemond does it.”

“He’s hesitant,” Helaena smiles sadly at you, “This is the first time after the breakup that he’s meeting all these people, especially after Mum found out it was Viserys who sent the paps to the church—“

“What?” You gasp, “I had no idea it was him! That’s so fucked up. Does he know? I mean…”

“He does—“

“Then why didn’t he say anything about it?” You cut your best friend off, watching as her amethyst eyes narrow at you.

“Because! He is hesitant about opening up! Babe, your relationship is new, his wounds are still open and a fucking bandaid isn’t going to stop the bleeding. You need to be patient with him. He likes you, hell he even fucking loves you! But please, don’t do this to him.”

“He basically lied to me— it’s fucking silly, why am I overreacting over my own fucking mistake?” You sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from falling down.

“Hey, hey, sweetie,” she cradles your head in his hands and rests your forehead on her shoulder, “I know how you feel. He’s been nothing but sweet, touchy, and absolutely lovely to you, and you want this to not change in front of other people. But please, he’s got many rumors going behind his back and now if anyone, especially Daemon, finds out about you and him, they’ll start telling people he cheated on Alys and that’s why she left.”

“But that’s not true, she— she left and all she did was use him for his money and status,” You sip on your drink, “I’m not like her, I’ll never do that to him.”

“Babe, I know that, but now? Aemond needs you more than ever, you’re not just a fucking rebound but someone who makes him feel at ease when he is around Aegon because he knows you’ll have his back.”

“Our fight wasn’t even about that… I don’t even know why I brought up Alys and why he got angry.” Helaena rubs your shoulders, pondering over what to say next.

“Okay, look at me,” you straighten your back and look into her eyes, “She is a really sensitive issue to talk about out of the blue. You shouldn’t have said that, I know you know this, okay? Aemond just wanted to spend time with you, and he’s still trying to push his pain down to kind of… I don’t know but he’s trying to run away from the pain and neglect it so you won’t feel like he’s the one using you. That’s why I think he got mad because he’s just trying and you hit him with ‘I know you're lying’.”

“Yeah, we haven’t had the important conversations yet,” you nod, smiling at her, “Let’s see if I can make him look me in the eye for a second so I can apologize.”

“He loves that you are here, he’s happy you are here. Don’t let someone from the past make decisions for you,” she links her arms with yours when she notices everyone is rounding the table to take their seats, “Come, let me introduce you to our uncle.”

“Sure,” you smile at her, walking side by side towards his siblings before finding his uncle; Gwayne, a tall man with auburn wavy hair and warm hazel eyes, and even a warmer smile.

“Well, hello there,” he greets you, reaching to shake your hand before he brings it up to his lips, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet Helaena’s friend.”

You notice how Aemond’s eye lingers on his uncle’s fingers on your hand — does he want it to be him who is touching you? Maybe. Probably.

“The pleasure is all mine, sir,” you say, retrieving your hand and taking your seat by Helaena’s side, Aegon sitting next to Aemond at the head of the table with Baela and Luke in front of them on the other side while Daeron and Gwayne sit next to Hel, Jace at the corner of the table.

“So, before we start,” Alicent stands up, holding her champagne glass in her hand, sighing softly to calm herself down a little and not let her nerves get the best of her, “I wish to raise a toast to my son, Aemond! You… you have been one of the greatest joys in my life. I could have never thought that little boy would turn into this wonderful man. I am glad to see you happy with your siblings and friends, and you will forever be my little boy. Happy birthday, darling!” “Hear hear!” Helaena raises her glass, and so does everyone, and you take the chance to take a good look at Aemond, surprisingly finding him already looking at you. You give him an apologetic smile, hoping he can see the sincerity in it, and to your luck, he does, giving you one of his quick yet soft smirks before he covers it with his glass.

“So, Aemond,” Viserys starts, and with the way Otto is looking at him, everyone can sense an unsettling uneasiness brewing, “how is your wife?”

Your breathing stops for a second, eyes wide in shock as you glance between Helaena and Alicent, both looking just as shocked and paralyzed as you while Aemond only glares at his father, his grip tightening around the rim of his glass, and you wish for nothing more

“Wow, Dad,” Aegon laughs sarcastically, catching everyone off guard, “How thoughtful of you to see if his wife is okay! Wow, I wonder who could have talked you into this,” he looks at Rhaenyra with a sneer shaking his head when he finds her cocking her to the side.

“We broke up—” “No, nephew, come on,” Daemon tsks, feigning disappointment, “Everyone was there! Your dad just forgot how your wife left you, right, Viserys?” “Yes, yes,” Viserys agrees absentmindedly, not even paying attention to the rest of the conversation.

“I’m glad she left, at least someone dared to leave this family,” Daeron mutters, earning a flare from Otto who has been eyeing everyone tonight, “What? Am I wrong?”

“Can we please just… eat something? It’s a birthday for god’s sake,” Alicent says quietly, clearly defeated, “Don’t do this tonight, please.” You sigh, squeezing Helaena’s hand while you desperately wish it was Aemond’s hand to hold on to, to tell him and reassure him that these people are just like that. Unfortunately, you can’t, but the stealing glances you share is enough for now. You will show and tell him about your feelings later tonight.

“I wonder though…” Jace starts, sounding unsure and a bit nervous, “Luke said he saw you kissing someone, Aemond. Why would you hide her from us?” This time, you choke on your food, coughing and trying your best to even your breathing, but it seems with all the eyes on Aemond and his eye on you, your little secret is spilled all over the table. “I’m not hiding anyone—” “After a failed almost marriage, don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious to get into a relationship this quickly?” Rhaenyra adds, looking at Alicent, “Were you aware of this? Because we just got the rumors to cool down, we do not need more of them flying around, butchering the reputation our father has worked so hard for.”

“As if sleeping with multiple men in a ‘loving’ marriage isn’t doing more damage to your precious reputation,” you mutter, anger bubbling inside you like a failed potion, stabbing your steak with the knife in your hand. You have no idea where this courage came from; one second you were choking on your food and terrified of people finding out, the next second you are defending your not-so-secret boyfriend as if your life depended on it.

“Atta girl,” Aegon whispers, but when you look up, it is Aemond who catches your breath away — maybe no one has ever stood up for him so fiercely and that is precisely why he is reluctant to show affection in front of his family to you.

“My, this girl has a tongue on her,” Rhaenyra doesn’t say anything more than a simple sentence and continues to sip on her drink. “Who is the girl if you are so confident that he is in a relationship?” This is the first time Otto says something, and with how his steel eyes stare back at Daemon, you realize it is a matter of seconds for you to be exposed.

“It’s her,” Lucerys points at you, “I saw them kissing yesterday on top of a horse.”

“How romantic,” Daemon smirks at you before he looks at Aemond, and that is when chaos fucking ensures, “You seem to have a type, nephew; poor, older, beautiful, a runaway bride—” Aemond presses his lips into a tight line, his fist clenching and unclenching as he keeps his gaze locked on Daemon, not even sparing a glance your way.

“Hey,” Helaena whispers to you, grabbing your hands into hers, “You’re not those things, babe.”

“Is it true, Aemond?” Gwayne asks, a small smile on his lips, ignoring his seething father next to him, “Because we will be happy that you have moved on and found joy again.” “Come on, that’s bullshit,” Daemon starts, leaning on the back of his chair, “Does anyone look happy to you here? His ‘girlfriend’ is on the verge of tears, his mother looks like she might die and him? Does he look happy to have his relationship announced? If anything he’s ashamed he’s been caught dating another woman who will eventually leave him—”

Aemond bangs his fists on the table as he stands up, making everyone jump from their seats, but that is it. He doesn’t say a word, just a silent glare that he shoots everyone — even you — before he straightens his back and pushes away his chair, leaving the room wordlessly.

You follow him after a few seconds, gathering the skirt of your dress in your hands before running the path he took outside, finding him entering the field around the lake.

“Aemond, wait!”

He doesn’t listen to you and keeps walking to the edge of the lake, bringing a hand to his face before he turns around and watches you run as fast as you can with your heels.

“What the fuck do you want?” “Aemond—” you scoff, laughing breathlessly, “What do I want? Maybe I want to talk to my boyfriend who just stormed out.” “Righ, right,” he chuckles but the humor is lost in it, “Or maybe you want to confront me about Alys again, how does that sound?”

“It sounds fucking ridiculous, Aemond—“

“You know what is ridiculous? Us!” He shouts, his voice cracking slightly, “Because however fucked up those words were, they were the truth.”

“You mean when they were insulting me, yeah? When they called me a gold digger?” You tear up a little as you look at him, trying to find a glimpse of your Aemond, “Do you think I will leave you?”

“No, darling,” he shakes his head, and you notice a tear falling on his cheek, “I know you will leave! Because that’s what everyone does! My father left, my brother left for years, my fucking fiancé who I would die for left! Why do you think you’re so special and different from them? You will leave as soon as you are bored of me!”

“Have I neglected you so much that you believe I will just walk away from you? Aemond, we’ve been together for so little time and that still won’t change the fact that I would set this entire place on fucking fire!”

“That means nothing!” He yells at you, walking away with his fingers threading through his hair, “Alys said all those things she still fucking left me! She said she loved me, she showed she cared, even if all of those moments were fake, I still believed her! Why do you think we will make it through this mess without you leaving me?”

“Because I was honest with you from the beginning, I was there for you when no one wanted to be! Your grandpa was fucking with your head about not getting into a relationship with anyone but I stuck with you through all the shit you went through because you mean the world to me!” You sob, trying to make sense out of whatever chaos his family has bestowed upon you

“No,” he shakes his head, walking away from you, “I’m not going to be the one who’s left alone at the end. I’m gonna do the leaving now before you get the chance to do it.”

“Aemond, no, please— I’m sorry!”

But your plea falls silent as you watch him leave you alone with a heavy heart, both of you hurting with each step he takes on the opposite direction.

“Please, Little nerd…”

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