#if no one responds with the gif i’m going to assume i made it up and i will delete this post and we can all pretend this never happened
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you're not her
The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader
a/n: really wanted to write for the worst logan so I found a streaming site so I could finally watch the new Deadpool movie (yay pirating) (this is totally hypothetical and a joke to the feds lurking) I was going to just read the wiki plot but I don’t think that was going to cut it Again, using the same superhero name/powers. It’s not an OC I swear, it just makes sense in comic book movies to have some alternate name and I’m not creative enough to come up with multiple different supe names. Summary: You hate him, you really fucking hate him at first. He’s cruel and constantly reminds you that you’ll never be the hero he knew. You’re not her and he’s made that abundantly clear. But what are you supposed to do when he’s suddenly your new roommate and you have no choice but to wake up to his face every day? I feel sad because I don’t think I did the angst justice with this one. But if I keep staring at it trying to fix it, then I’m never going to post it. (This is a long one guys) Angst with a happy ending (because I’m a little bitch) Makeout scenes and smut towards the very end 18+ MDNI
You don’t know how you got here, but you know you’re mad at whoever dragged you into this shit. You don’t think it would be wild to assume it was Wade’s fault. Usually, when something goes wrong in your life it’s on him.
What you do know; you look like shit. Wade and Wolverine are both standing over you in their awesome ass uniforms and you’re still in your fucking pajamas. How are you supposed to be badass and save the world in pants that have Spiderman’s face plastered all over them?
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Wade,” you growl at him.
He places his hand daintily on his chest and waves you off, “Save that for the bedroom, pookie.”
You grit your teeth and glare up at him, Wolverine gives him a similarly disgusted look. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you grumble under your breath. You get to your feet and brush yourself off, finally looking around and taking in wherever the fuck he’s dragged you. “Where are we?”
“The void,” Wade responds, voice ridiculously dramatic. You look around and throw your hands up in defeat.
“What the fuck, Wade? Why did you drag me with you into this?” You look over at the Wolverine beside him. He hasn’t stopped glaring at you both and his claws are out, clearly ready to just eviscerate you. “Who the fuck is this?”
“Okay, wow, language, Flux. I’m disappointed in you.”
“Eat me-”
You’re cut off by the knock-off Wolverine standing a few feet behind you both. “Flux?” He demands, voice so low you almost can’t hear him. Both you and Wade’s heads whip around to face him. Thus far he’s been relatively silent, you nearly started to wonder if he was mute.
“It’s her X-Man name,” Wade tells him, gushing like it’s some big deal. “Impressive, huh?” You don’t bother correcting him that it was your X-Men name. Can’t exactly call yourself that if they booted you off the team for being a crappy superhero.
Logan snorts and shakes his head. He stalks towards you and you nearly fall over in your attempt to scramble back from him. “You,” he demands, claws pointed at you threateningly. “You’re Flux?”
Wade hisses, watching as Logan swipes out at you. “Alright, peanut, let’s put the claws away and take a deep grounding breath.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps at Wade. He turns to glare at him and you take the opportunity to scramble behind your friend for protection. At least if he gets stabbed, he’ll heal. “You,” he scoffs and it trails off into a laugh. There’s no humor behind it, he's just a dick. “You are a fucking joke compared to my Flux.”
The ground underneath you rattles, pebbles bouncing off the cracked desert and ricocheting off their boots. Wade quickly moves away from you, shoving you forward so he’s not in the line of fire. “Yeah, well you’re just an alcoholic fuck who could never hold a candle to my Logan.”
You can feel energy brewing at the tips of your fingers, waves, and waves of hate building up within you. The man across from you feels the shift, the static suddenly permeating the air around you both. You let your power build and build…
The pebbles drop back to the ground and you stumble back from Logan, nose bleeding from overextending yourself. “Shit,” you mutter, wiping at your face with the back of your hand and shaking your head.
Logan laughs again, it echoes through the stormy sky and you wish you had any control over your powers so you could just send him flying. Or, better yet, turn his bones into liquid and flip him inside out. “Oh,” he lets out a long exhale, glaring at both of you. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous.” The faux smile drops from his face and he raises his voice just loud enough to make you jump, “Just one big fuckin’ joke!”
You have about five seconds to dive to the side before Logan is lunging at Wade. “Wait, wait, wait we can talk about this!” Wade shouts, but it’s too late, he’s already on the ground getting his head caved in.
You let out a rough sigh, stumbling off to the side. You’re drained from that shitshow of powers. You barely made a few rocks levitate and you feel like you’re going to pass out. You walk away from the two men and throw yourself on the ground, trying to reorient yourself while they fight like wild animals.
You can hear them in the background, stabbing and shooting like they’re aiming to kill. Too bad neither of them can die. It’d save you a hell of a headache. They run past you, Logan’s got his claws buried in Wade’s gut while Wade’s desperately firing off his gun into Logan’s chest.
Your head rolls weakly to the side and you mutter out a pathetic, “No, stop. Don’t kill each other.” As expected, neither of them listens to you. They keep fighting, showing no signs of stopping.
There’s a moment of silence after about ten minutes of nothing but grunts and insults. You peak your head up in interest. Logan got his claws posed over Wade’s throat. You wonder if decapitation would actually kill him or if he’d somehow manage to survive that.
Wade doesn’t seem interested in testing out the theory, “They can fix it!” Wade shouts, “They can fix your timeline. I just need your help saving mine.”
Your eyes widen and you meet Wade’s masked gaze over Logan’s shoulders. The white slits widen and he minutely shakes his head, telling you not to say anything. Like, maybe, that neither of you has any fucking clue if the TVA is capable of even fixing timelines like that.
You know Wade is desperate when he makes that promise. It’s the only reason he would say something so stupid. It’s a blatant lie, one pulled so far out of Wade’s ass you’re genuinely surprised that Logan can’t smell the bullshit. Whatever happened in his universe must have been horrible for him to ever believe anything that comes out of any Deadpool’s mouth.
It’s a long moment before Logan finally pulls his claws out of Wade. Your friend slumps forward in relief as Logan stalks away from him. You glare at Wade from where you are on the ground, “That was fucking stupid,” you snipe at him. He gets to his feet, walks over to you, and forcefully yanks you to your feet.
“Not a goddamn word,” he warns, but you aren’t exactly threatened by him when he's got three holes in his head from Logan’s claws. Still, you hold your hands up and acquiesce, following after him as he chases down Logan.
Your mind is still fuzzy when you are captured by Cassandra. You're recovering from overextending yourself, eyes blurring and limbs going limp like jello when her army of henchmen circle you all.
You finally feel yourself starting to come back to your body when you wake up tied to Johnny. “And,” Wade draws the word out, waiting until you lift your head to finish, “there she is! Happy you could join us, princess. Mind turning these ropes into dust for me?”
You groan and let your head slump onto Johnny’s shoulder. He smirks and glances down at you. “Oh fuck off, both of you. I can’t do shit right now and you know it, Wade, I’m drained.”
Logan is glaring at you, but there’s less hate in his glare and more confusion now. “Can you do anything?”
You narrow your eyes at him, lips screwed up while you try to decide if he’s being an asshole or genuine. “Hard of hearing or something old man? I’m drained,” you reiterate, your tone a little too bitchy.
Logan narrows his eyes, grunting something foul under his breath. Wade interferes before you can piss each other off anymore. “She had an accident, her brain’s a little broken now. But it’s fine! Whose isn’t?”
You huff and throw yourself back against the cage you’re all being transported in. You feel eyes on the side of your head and slowly look over to see Johnny grinning at you. “Hey, you know I’ve met one of your variants-”
“Don’t give a fuck,” you interrupt. You hear Wade snicker under his mask, giving you an encouraging thumbs up even with his hands bound. You were both a little disappointed it wasn’t Captain America lurking under that cloak. But at least this guy isn’t such a prude he won’t cuss.
For the next five minutes, you’re on the receiving end of a very enthusiastically vulgar rant about just what a cunt Cassandra Nova is. He’s still not even finished by the time you reach the gates to her lair.
Your eyes widen when you see all the people lurking around the walls. Most of them you recognize as people you’ve put away or killed in your world. But there’s something just minutely different about them than the version you faced in your timeline. Their eye color or outfit is always just slightly off.
The familiar faces are almost a relief. But there is nothing comforting about knowing you're outnumbered two hundred to four. The cage is tipped over and you go rolling out, you grunt as Johnny’s elbow digs into your ribs.
Before you can even attempt to shove him off, the ropes are whipped off of you and you’re dragged by an invisible force across the ground. Rocks and sand scrape across your tender skin and bury themselves deep in your pores. You hiss in pain when you finally come to a stop and your body is your own again.
A groan slips through your parted lips unbidden as you struggle onto your knees. Your pajamas are ripped practically everywhere and you feel like you might as well be naked at this point. You really wished that you at least had a chance to change before you were kidnapped to another universe.
The woman you presume to be Cassandra Nova is currently fucking Wade’s skull with her freakish telepathy fingers. Johnny’s a pile of guts and bones on the floor and you have no fucking clue where she flung Logan to.
You get to your feet, shaking your head and reorienting yourself. In a second she’s in front of you, head tilted to the side while she regards you curiously. “Woah,” you jump back, glaring at her outstretched hand.
“Careful,” Wade warns her breathlessly, still clutching his head. “Flux here has a pathological fear of bald people.”
You nod, “It’s true, you can imagine how strained my relationship with your brother was.” Cassandra circles you, a devious tilt to her lips. Your eyes track her, unwilling to take your gaze off her for even a second. You feel like a rabbit, facing down a fox that’s made its way into your burrow.
“Curious,” she mutters. “I’ve seen quite a few of you down here before. But,” she chuckles and before you can move her hand is shoving its way into your brain. You scream, there’s an agonizing burn as her fingers probe under your eyes and dig through the deepest part of your subconscious. It feels like someone’s taking a shovel and ripping up your worst traumas. “None of them have been so weak.”
Wonderful, even she wants to insult you. You can feel the way she’s plucking through your thoughts, tossing aside the ones she doesn’t like. Images of your childhood are flashing across your vision. You can no longer see the world around you, it’s like every one of your worst memories is being played on a projector.
“Ah,” she clicks her tongue and jerks your neck around until you’re looking at something you’ve tried to forget for years. “Here it is. How easy it would be for me to simply unblock those powers of yours.” She smiles, her face appearing before you and blocking out the bloodshed. “It would make this far more entertaining for me, what do you say?”
Your teeth are clenched so tightly you’re surprised they haven’t cracked yet. It’s hard to get the words out when her fingers are still dancing through your skull. “Fuck you,” you finally spit out. She releases you suddenly, and you surge forward with a gasp, clutching at your skull desperately.
You half expect your brains to begin leaking from your nose and eyes. But nothing happens, despite feeling incredibly violated, everything is still in its proper place. Cassandra walks past you like everything is fine and dandy in the world. “Well, as much as I would love to see those powers of yours in action again, Flux, I’m afraid Alioth must eat.”
Before you can ask what she's talking about there’s a loud rumble. Like thunder cracking through the sky and land, the ground underneath you shakes. Cracks form under your feet and the henchmen around you all start desperately racing for cover.
You turn around, staring wide-eyed at the purple cloud of death and destruction steadily moving across the sky. A face breaks through the clouds, grinning down at you. Purple lightning hits the ground and the villain next to you explodes into nothing but dust.
“Shit!” You shout, turning around and running to try and avoid getting zapped up next. There’s no coming back from this one. Once this monster gets you, not even god could save you.
Suddenly, an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you off your feet. “No time for consent, we’ve got to get the fuck outta here!” Wade shouts in your ear. Logan is standing next to some robot leg, ripping out cords until a jet on the back fires up. Wade leaps onto the boot, wrapping an arm around Logan’s legs as you’re all shot into the sky.
You’d scream if you weren’t trying not to throw up. You hurtle through the sky at speeds that have your skin nearly ripping off your skull. The rocket on the back of the leg starts to sputter out. The flames flickering out and then back to life. It steadily begins to drop until you’re plummeting headfirst towards the ground.
Wade wraps himself around you, tossing himself off the boot so he can brace your fall. You hear and feel nearly all of his bones break under your weight. For a moment it feels like you’re laying on warm jello as you try and catch your breath.
“Nailed it,” he mutters weakly. You’re pretty sure he can’t breathe, a rib having pierced his lung in the fall. A shadow looms over you and you glance up to find Logan glaring down at you. You stare at him apprehensively, half expecting him to unsheathe his claws and just end you right here.
Instead, to your surprise, he holds a hand out. You look at it with suspicion, glaring back up at him. “Fucks sake,” he mutters. He reaches down, roughly grabbing your hand and jerking you to your feet. You feel the warmth of Wade’s blood on your back and grimace.
“Thanks,” you mutter, still not entirely trusting of him.
He purses his lips into a thin line, backing awkwardly away from you. He just nods and starts surveying the land around you. It feels less like trying to figure out where you all landed and more like awkwardly avoiding eye contact.
The whole interaction leaves you feeling odd. “Well, that was as awkward as two virgins on prom night,” Wade loudly announces as he jumps to his feet. You whip around and send him a dirty look but his attention has already been snagged by something else. Lately, you’ve been considering grounding up Adderall and slipping it into his breakfast, you think it might do him some good.
What’s got to be the fugliest dog you’ve ever seen in your life bounds towards Wade. He drops to his knees, ripping off his mask and opening his arms wide to the mutt. You grimace, taking a step back when she starts licking his face. “Oh, that’s just wrong.”
Thankfully dogless, you steal Nicepool’s Honda Odyssey - much to Wade’s chagrin. Logan’s in the front seat, Wade beside him. You’re sitting in the back, rubbing your temples and trying to get rid of the raging migraine you’ve had since Cassandra finger blasted your brain.
You’ve been zoning in and out of the conversation happening in the front seat of the car. But Logan suddenly slams on the brakes and you go hurtling forward. Without even looking at you, both their arms shoot out, blocking you from flying through the windshield.
Your face scrunches up as you look at both their arms, it feels like being saved by an overbearing soccer mom. “Buckle up, princess,” Wade tells you. He shoves you back into your seat and you look between the two men suspiciously.
“Did you just say if?” Logan growls, glaring at Wade. Your face drops, finally realizing what you’d missed.
Wade lets out a weak chuckle, “Slip of the tongue?” Logan growls and the claws come out. Wade raises his hands, “Okay, let’s put a brake on the crazy train. I wasn’t lying it was just an educated,” for the first time in your friendship Wade is actually speechless. You’re shocked by the silence. Until, of course, he runs his mouth again and comes up with the lamest cop-out you’ve ever heard. “It was an educated wish that they could fix your timeline, alright?”
Logan doesn’t give much of a warning except a low growl before he shoves his claws deep into Wade’s thigh. “You motherfucker!”
“Hey!” You shout, jumping forward and ripping Logan’s claws out of Wade’s leg. “Look, we’re trying to save our whole fucking universe. Can you blame him for lying?” You regret opening your mouth pretty much immediately.
You should have just stayed out of this, it wasn’t any of your business. And if they wanted to be two dumbasses and fucking tear each other apart then so be it. But you never should have drawn attention to yourself.
“Shut the fuck up,” Logan shouts at you. It’s so startling, coming from him. You’re still associating him with the man you’d looked up to growing up. Your Wolverine was a hero. He was the reason you wanted to be an X-Man. And they look exactly the same, it’s nearly impossible for you to separate this one from the one you knew.
But it's easier now. Because the man you’d known would never be so cruel and jaded to the world. Not like this. “Why the fuck are you even here? You’re just some watered-down knockoff of a real hero. You are nothing, you’re worth nothing. It’s a fucking joke that you’re alive and the woman I knew is buried six feet deep. If there was anything right in the world you would be in a grave somewhere crawling with maggots.”
Your eyes water without your permission. You don’t know this man. Yet, he has the face of your greatest hero and the man who you’d grown up hearing stories about. It’s like facing everything you’ve ever wanted to be and having it shout your deepest fears and insecurities back at you. He’s just confirming something you’ve known for years. You never deserved the title of being an X-Man. You never deserved the uniform or anything that came with it.
Your breaths are coming short and fast, it feels like your lungs are constricting. You worry you won’t be able to get air in but he doesn’t care. No, he keeps going. “You follow this fucking clown around and you contribute nothing to the world. You’re never gonna save your fucking timeline. You can’t even make a few rocks float.” It’s not the words that hurt you next. It’s the way he says it. “You’re pathetic.”
He spits them at you. There’s venom lacing his tone like he’s seen into you and knows there’s nothing in you to offer. For the first time in a long time, you feel seen and you hate it. Because he’s looking past the sarcasm and the faux confidence you carry yourself with.
He sees the empty husk of a woman you truly are and he’s forcing you to face it with him. It causes you physical pain, to know that everything you’ve ever feared about yourself is true. You don’t have anything to say to him, you can’t.
Your lips tremble and you feel so fucking small. You can hear your parent's voices in your head, screaming at you and wishing you were never born. They’d rather have a stillborn than a fucked up mutant for a daughter. You see the way even other kids at the school would hide from you. You were made wrong, even as a mutant you were never truly accepted.
Logan’s face drops ever so slightly at the prolonged silence in the car. Even Wade isn’t speaking, he’s just staring at you both. “I,” he starts, but Wade cuts him off.
“I’m gonna hurt you now.” Wade’s never been one to let people run over you, even when you might just let yourself fall into the background. You shouldn’t be surprised when he draws a knife and stabs it into Logan’s throat.
But the arterial spray that follows catches you off guard and suddenly your tears are dried. Instead, you’re throwing open the car door and diving out before one of them crushes you. You make it out of the car just in time, Logan having thrown Wade right where you had been sitting.
Music starts up in the car as a result of their fighting. Divorced dad rock and the sounds of their, borderline, sexual grunting are your soundtrack for the rest of the night. You curl up at the base of a tree, waiting for them to be done with each other.
Logan’s words continue to echo through your head. And the longer you linger on what he said the angrier you get. Not necessarily at him, but at yourself. You’ve let yourself linger in self-pity and wallow in regret for so long.
You look in the mirror and you no longer recognize yourself. He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re a fucking joke. You toss your head back, slamming it against the trunk of the tree hard enough for it to hurt.
There’s this manic, cloying feeling tugging at your chest. It’s like someone’s sitting on your ribs, crushing you until you can’t breathe anymore. You keep throwing your head back, letting the pain distract you until you feel warm blood leaking down the back of your scalp.
“Shit,” you hiss, hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull. You wince when you feel the split in your skin. The blood leaks over the tips of your fingers, running through the cracks of your palm.
You force yourself to relax, to move your head away from the tree. As you go to stand up, possibly to get Wade and Logan to quit their fighting, you notice something odd. The air around you is still, you can no longer hear them grunting or groaning as they rock the Honda.
Leaves are suspended in the air. They’re not trembling from the breeze, they’re completely frozen. You take a step forward and gasp when you hit something solid. The air in front of you has solidified somehow.
The realization dawns on you slowly but surely. This is you, you’ve done this. Manipulated everything around you on an atomic level. You’ve turned something you shouldn’t be able to feel into something you can touch. Frozen the world around you. Whatever Cassandra had done inside your head, it had knocked something loose.
You haven’t had this wide a range of control for years. Any attempt to do something like this has been met with nosebleeds and long periods of blacking out. Elation fills you, the hurt from earlier is nearly gone.
You glance through the wall of air and try to see if you can still see the Odyssey. To your horror, it’s gone. You wave your hands and the air returns to normal. The leaves drift back to the forest floor and you run back to where you’d left the two men.
There are tire tracks dug deep into the mud. You know Wade wouldn’t willingly leave you behind, not here. You don’t know if Logan’s just kidnapped him or if someone else has. Whoever was driving was clearly in a rush to get out of here.
You must have missed it all while you were having your meltdown. “Fuck,” you shout, your voice echoing into the branches above. You take in a deep breath and start walking. Hopefully, you can catch up to them before whoever has them does serious damage.
You make it to a weird cave/hideout area. The Odyssey is parked outside and when you peek through the broken windows you find the interior completely destroyed. There’s blood soaking through every surface, anything and everything has been smashed and bent the wrong way.
You don’t even know if this is from Wade and Logan or whoever had snatched them. Shaking your head you back up and slink towards the entrance of the den. You can hear shouting inside, it sounds like Wade, but you can’t make out what he’s saying.
You haven’t seen action for a long time. At least not any that you could actually contribute to. It feels a bit like riding a bike. You’d practiced on your way here, making things around you float or eradicating a few trees into nothing but dust in the wind. But this is different.
Your friend (and Logan) are inside, possibly being tortured. Maybe even dead. Though, you seriously doubt the universe is going to be that nice to you. You let the energy build in your arms, it’s like a warm tingling feeling. It shoots down to the palms of your hands until you feel static in the air.
You take a step inside and spot three people. Each of them is decked out in weapons. One of them turns and spots you. “Who is-”
You don’t let him finish, throwing your hands out and slamming them all into the wall so hard the whole interior shakes. Dirt rains down from the ceilings while their faces contort in pain. You run inside, spotting Logan and Wade.
You shoot Wade a big grin but he throws his hands up and shouts, “Read the fucking room!” Your brows furrow and he points emphatically at the people you’re holding, “Good guys!”
“Oh shit,” you release them immediately, a guilty look on your face. “I am so sorry.” Logan cackles in the back, doubled over laughing while the three people in front of you brush themselves off.
You don’t want to be out here with him, but it’s better than being in that cave with the others. Laura walks past you, sending you an uneasy smile. You’d noticed her sitting beside Logan and decided they probably needed a few moments to themselves.
They were finished now, though, and he had the only bottle of liquor left in the cave with him. You trudge over to him, leaves crunching under your boots. Elektra, after that horrific introduction, had given you a uniform a different Flux had left behind.
She was long gone, killed by Cassandra years ago, but she’d conveniently been your exact size. The uniform is nearly identical to the one you have buried under your bed. Black leather with a dark purple X going across your chest and matching purple seams. You’d never wanted something ridiculously flashy. Just something that people would see and associate with the X-Men.
Because that’s all you’d ever wanted to be; a hero. It feels like a pipe dream now. If your pajamas weren’t so destroyed you would have just stayed in them. You don’t feel like you deserve this uniform, not when the woman who’d worn it before you had actually been a hero in her timeline.
“Don’t want company,” Logan snarks, without even looking back to see who’s coming up to him.
You take a seat on the lawn chair closest to him and snatch the bottle of whiskey from his hands. “Good,” you tilt your head back, downing as much as possible. It burns the whole way and you revel in the slight tickle in the back of your throat.
“Alright,” Logan mutters. He gently takes the bottle back from you, giving you an aggrieved look when he sees just how much you’ve stolen. He looks back into the fire and sighs, “Look, I’m not interested in hearing about your sob story or why you’re suddenly drinking all my liquor-”
“Gambit’s liquor,” you interrupt, not bothering to look at him. “And I’m not looking to dump my sob story on your lap. I just want to sit in silence and that’s impossible because Wade hasn’t stopped running his mouth since we got here.”
He looks a little surprised by the brusque way you dismiss him, “Alright,” he mutters. He takes another swig from the bottle and you both stare silently into the fire. It’s like that for a while, you don’t bother keeping track of time.
All you hear is the crackling of the flames. All you can feel is the way your eyes burn from staring into the fire and watching sparks pop off the logs for too long. The breeze rustles the trees, makes the leaves shake free and dance around the logs of the fire.
He breaks the silence first, to your chagrin. “About what I said,” he clears his throat uncomfortably, still refusing to look at you, “back in the car.”
“Don’t,” you snap, voice low. “Just,” you let out a long breath and shake your head. You finally look over and meet his eyes. He does actually look sorry, but you don’t want to hear it. “Just don’t, I deserved it all right.”
“No, no you didn’t.” You open your mouth to argue but he gives you a firm look that has your jaw snapping shut. “I was wrong, I don’t know you. And if my Flux had ever heard me talking to you like that she would have melted my fucking spine.” He laughs a little and you feel your lips twitch up slightly. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look anything but angry.
Curiosity loosens your tongue and knocks you out of the dazed stupor you’ve been in. “What was she like?” You ask, tone earnest. “Your Flux, I mean, you make her sound so amazing. I just can’t,” you trail off, but the look on his face tells you he understands your unspoken words. I just can’t see myself as a real hero.
He groans and leans back on the log he’s resting on. He stretches his legs out in front of him, the liquor bottle placed on the forest floor. You’re surprised, you figured the thing was glued to his hand.
“Well,” he reaches up and scratches at the scruff of his chin, a wry grin on his face. “She was always giving me shit, never let me get away with anything.” You unconsciously lean forward, drawn into the endearing way he begins to describe this other version of you.
It’s not ridiculous to assume this variant meant something to him. He’s got a shine to his eye that you haven’t seen in the whole time you’ve been together. His gaze has been empty, closed off to anything and everything. But now, his eyes are crinkling at the corners, there’s an easy smile on his face that you can’t miss.
“Ah, she was fucking feisty. And strong, she was so strong. She was always a better hero than I was. She lived for that shit,” he trails off and shakes his head. You can see you’re losing him and you don’t want this to end. You’re in your own little bubble right now, getting to pretend there’s a version of you out there somewhere that actually lived up to her potential.
“Her powers,” you blurt out, desperate for something to stop him from retreating back into his mind. “Did she have, um, good control over them?”
Logan nods, eyes darting down to the bottle of whiskey before flickering back up to meet your gaze again. “Yeah, Charles trained her, she was right up there with Jean. She could have,” he stops and suddenly you feel guilty for making him talk about this. You can see the tears in the corner of his eyes, the way the whites of them go red. “She could have been great.”
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t mean to pry.” But you did. You were being selfish and forcing him to talk about it even though you knew it would hurt him.
“Look, kid, she would have liked you. I’ll tell you that much,” he says reluctantly. Like the words hurt to force out. You suppose he isn’t used to being genuine with anyone.
You shake your head and look down at your hands. “I appreciate the thought, but I doubt it.”
Logan grabs the bottle again, gulping it down like it's water. His words have a slight slur to them as he speaks again. “I think I would know, bub. ‘Sides, you made it into the X-Men, tells me what I need to know.”
You scoff and fix him with a sardonic look, he raises his brows in question and you roll your eyes. “They’ll take fucking anybody. And I still wasn’t good enough for them.”
Logan shakes his head and frowns. “If what I saw in there,” he points back to the den and you feel your cheeks warm as you remember what you’d done, “is any indication, then I’m sure you were plenty good.”
You lean towards him, elbows braced on your knees. He follows suit, leaning so close you almost want to back up. The proximity flusters you slightly but you shake the feeling off. “You don’t even know me and the first real thing you said to me was that I’d be more useful as fertilizer.”
He sighs, face screwing up at your harsh words. He runs a hand over his cheeks and groans, “I didn’t mean it like that.”
You lean back in your chair and idly twirl your hand through the air. The leaves around you lift up and flutter through the air above your head. Logan watches and you turn back to him, waiting until his eyes meet yours to speak again. “Yes, you did. And you were right. I’m fucking useless, powers or not.” The leaves drop, a few fluttering into the fire. “We’re irrelevant, Wolverine, two washed-up X-Men who never looked good in the uniform.”
There’s a twinge of hurt on his face but you can’t make yourself feel bad about it. Since he’s such a fan of brutal truth, you’re sure he can handle it.
You watch as the leaves curl up at the corners, the fire burning them straight through the middle. You get to your feet and move past him. You’re nearly back to the den when he calls, “The suit looks right on you,” over his shoulder.
You pause at the threshold of the door. He’s already drinking again, staring into the fire and watching it burn. You take a few steps towards him, staring at his broad back. “What happened to her, your me?”
Logan looks down at his hands, his ring finger specifically. You wonder at the significance of the movement, what exactly you’d meant to him. “She married me,” he mutters, voice cold and closed off again.
“Goodnight, Logan,” you whisper, finally walking inside the den.
You miss the small goodnight he sends back to you, finally turning around only to watch you leave.
There had been a very clear plan set in place. Get Juggernaut’s helmet, put it on Cassandra, and then kill that psychotic bitch. Which is why you’re so confused when you’re standing knee-deep in guts and watching Logan and Wade leap through a portal above you.
You don’t have time to feel angry or even hurt that they left without you. Laura is grabbing your arm and you’re both running for your life, trying to escape Alioth again. You run into Cassandra’s lair ducking into one of the rooms and dragging Laura with you.
You’re both holding your breaths and praying that he’s sated by the others still outside. After a few minutes, the cracks of thunder stop and you risk peeking your head outside. The clouds have retreated back to their usual spot in the middle of the void.
You take in the carnage of Cassandra’s evil lair. Most everybody is dead. You only have to skirt around a few people to get back to the Odyssey.
You throw yourself in the driver’s seat and sink back against the bloodstained cushions. You let out a relieved breath and look at Laura, “What do you do to entertain yourself around here?”
You acclimated to the idea of being stuck in the void pretty quickly. There wasn’t exactly a lot waiting for you back home. Besides, Laura was nice enough. You had food, beer, and company. You didn’t really need much else.
You’re pretty sure if you linger too long on the thought that Wade left you behind you’ll fall into a depression that you’re never going to be able to claw your way out of. So, you forced a smile on your face and played cards. Nothing else to do but wait to die of old age or for Alioth to kill you.
Of course, your plans had to be ruined. There was an odd rush of air against your back and then a slight whoosh. Laura glanced over your shoulders and her brows furrowed, you turned around to find three armored men waiting behind you.
“Flux,” the man glanced from you to Laura, “X-23?”
“Laura,” you both correct at the same time.
The man gives an aggrieved sigh and holds his arm out, “Come with me, please.”
You stand up, energy tingling in the palms of your hands while you regard them suspiciously. Laura comes up behind you, claws out and glaring at them. “Why should we?” You demand.
Barely a second later you hear the most insufferable voice in the world. “Hiya, peanut!”
“Wade,” you hiss. You follow the armored men through an oddly shaped portal and find Wade standing beside a shirtless Logan, smiling proudly at you. “You fucking left me,” you hold up your hands and his eyes widen.
His hands quickly come up, trying to assuage you, “Hold on now-”
You throw him back, his body hurtling into a nearby building and caving in the wall. Logan watches it happen with a small smile, “Been wanting to do that for a while.”
Once Wade had recovered he filled you in on everything that happened. TVA did a general clean up and then you were standing in front of your apartment door, keys in hand like nothing had happened.
It was so bizarre, going from a mission to save your timeline and then you’re expected to just go about your life. You stay standing in that hallway for you don’t know how long before you hear someone behind you.
You jump and drop your keys when Logan clears his throat. “Shit,” you hiss, whirling around and glaring at him while your heart races. He chuckles and bends over to grab your keys for you.
“Sorry,” he mutters. This is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him, covered in blood and in a borrowed shirt. “Uh, Wade doesn’t have enough room at his place. Told me I should come over here.”
You look over his shoulder and see Wade peeking his head out of his doorway. He catches your eye, sending you a thumbs up. You almost smile but then he makes a phallic gesture with his hands, pointing at Logan and humping the air. You glare at him and he quickly backs into his apartment, but not before sending you one last encouraging shit-eating grin.
You look back at Logan and he’s waiting expectantly for your answer. “Yeah,” you take your keys from him and unlock the door. “I’ve got a spare room but there’s no bed in it right now.” Your eyes widen when you see the mess that is your apartment.
You quickly rush through, picking up empty take-out boxes and dirty laundry and shoving them into your room. He’s smiling at you when you come back and it's slightly off-putting. “Um,” you gesture towards the couch awkwardly. “You can take the sofa tonight and we’ll look at setting you up with something more permanent tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” he hovers by the armrest and you engage in the longest stare-off of your life. Neither of you says anything for a few suffocating moments before he gestures at himself. “Shower?”
“Oh,” you snap out of your stupor and nod your head. “Yeah, right, of course.” You show him down the hall, “Here. I’ll go get you a towel.”
You rush towards your linen closet, leaving him behind in your bathroom. You grab a few clean towels and then figure he might want some clothes as well. You grab some pajamas that Wade’s left over when he’s crashed before. They’ll probably be a bit tighter on Logan, but you wouldn’t mind seeing that.
You walk back to the bathroom and the thought of knocking doesn’t even run through your head. It should, honestly, but you’re already so thrown off by him even being here. You walk in and immediately gasp and drop the towels.
“Oh, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s standing naked before you. Clothes discarded on the floor behind him. Everything on perfect display. Your eyes land on his abs, noticing a few prominent veins leading down-
You cover your face and turn around. “Sorry,” you mutter again. God, you’re such an idiot. You still haven’t even left. You’d just been shamelessly ogling the man naked and you don’t even have the decency to walk out.
You really can’t help it though. It’s been such a clusterfuck, the last 72 hours. Your brain is fried and Wade’s little show hasn’t helped you at all.
You hear Logan laugh behind you. “It’s alright,” he mutters. Something warm ghosts across your arm and you jump slightly. His hand firmly grasps your bicep, gently tugging your palms away from your face.
You risk a glance over your shoulder and nearly gasp at how close he’s gotten. He's towering over you, something in his face you can’t place. “It’s alright,” he whispers again and you find yourself nodding without really thinking.
He’s got both hands on your arms now, trailing up and down. The touch is so featherlight you can barely feel it at all. You don’t even realize how he’s gently coaxing you closer until you trip on the towels at your feet.
You startle, looking down at them and moving to kick them aside. But he stops you, his finger nudging your chip up so you’ll look at him again. There is such blatant want painted across his face that it makes your heart skip a beat. Your breath catches in your throat when he wraps an arm around your waist and drags you closer.
You can feel all of him. You can feel just how much he wants you. It catches you off guard, this sudden display of attraction. You don’t know where it’s coming from, what’s brought it on. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve been so lonely for so long. You just want to bask in the fact that he looks absolutely starved for you.
No man has ever looked at you with such heartbreakingly yearning eyes - like he’s been looking for you his whole life. He dips down, lips ghosting gently over yours. Your breaths mingle together, you can nearly taste him.
It’s unclear which one of you moves first, who pushes closer to the other. But it doesn’t matter because the second you put real pressure behind the kiss he’s all over you. One of his hands drifts down to your ass, squeezing the flesh there and dragging you closer, grinding his hips into yours.
You moan at the feeling, your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself even closer. He groans against your lips at the first swipe of your tongue. You part with a gasp when he picks you up, practically tossing you onto your sink. Your legs spread instinctually, making room for him as he slots himself between them.
It’s odd, feeling so vulnerable even when he’s the one who's completely naked. It still feels like he’s holding all the power.
His lips are moving frantically over yours like he’s terrified you’re going to disappear the second he lets go. You can taste something desperate on his tongue. Something deeply rooted inside him that you can’t identify.
One of your hands drifts from his neck, trailing over the muscles of his chest. Your fingers carve a path down his abs, relishing in how muscular he feels under your palm. Your hand reaches his pelvis, nearly wrapped around him when he jumps back.
He grabs your wrist in a grip so tight you know there’s going to be a bruise. A pained gasp slips out and he releases you immediately. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Sorry, I can’t.” He won’t look at you now, backing up towards the shower and shaking his head. “This was a bad idea, I can’t do this.”
You shake your head, slipping off the sink and hiding your bruised wrist behind your back. “No, sorry, I shouldn’t have moved so fast.”
You feel too ashamed to meet his eye. He kissed you but you feel like you’ve forced yourself on him somehow. It’s a nauseating feeling and you want nothing more than to run back to your room and hide.
He takes a step towards you, something pained on his face. “Kid-”
You just shake your head, step out of the bathroom, and grab the handle of the door. “Sorry,” you whisper again, closing the door behind you. You lean against the cool wood, trying to catch your breath.
Your hand drifts up to your lips, still tingling from how desperately he’d kissed you. It doesn’t make any sense. He came on to you, he threw you up on the sink, and made out with you more passionately than any man ever has before. So why are you the one who feels dirty?
You rush down the hall and into your room, slamming the door behind you. You dive under your covers, closing your eyes even though you know you won’t sleep. No, your shoulders are tensed up to your ears and your bones are vibrating with an energy you need to release.
You’re completely tuned into the other person lurking in your apartment. You can hear as he starts the shower, how he talks quietly to himself sometimes. Then when he gets out you can perfectly picture what he looks like while he’s getting dressed and it only makes you feel worse.
You listen as he leaves the bathroom and pauses in the hall. You can see it in your mind’s eye, how he stares at your door. He walks towards it and lingers for a minute before cussing quietly and heading back into the living room.
You suddenly remember that you didn’t lay sheets out on the couch for him. You feel guilty, but there’s not one part of you that will be dragged from this bed and face him. Not now, at least.
He’s up for a little while longer, getting water. Turning the TV on and off. Rooting through your cabinets looking for booze you know you don’t have. Finally, he settles on the couch. You’re awake for another hour, unable to relax until you’re completely sure he’s asleep. Even as you drift off and your body finally relaxes your mind doesn’t. You keep seeing that stricken look on his face and it makes you sick to your stomach.
It’s the smell of pancakes that wakes you up. You’re not sure when you finally managed to pass out last night but you know it was late. Which is why you’re so pissed off that you’re being forced to get up at seven in the morning.
You’re used to being able to sleep in a lot later than that. You’re already in a pissy mood from last night and it only gets worse as you trudge around your room getting ready. You’ve never been more thankful to have snagged one of the rare two-bathroom apartments in the building.
You don’t want to have to share a bathroom with Logan. You don’t even want to use the other one after what happened last night. It’s too embarrassing and painful to think about. The emotional whiplash of feeling so desired and then absolutely hideous is making your head spin.
You’re sure it was all just a problem on his end, but it really doesn’t make you feel any better. When you can’t stall any longer, and you know that Logan has heard you get up, you slip quietly out of your room.
The curtains in your living room are open and he’s in the kitchen fucking around with your stove. The news is playing quietly on the TV and you’re astounded about how little he’s done and how much more homely your apartment feels.
It’s never really been home to you. Not after you were booted from the X-Men. But he’s somehow made it ten times cozier than it ever has been. You almost resent him a little for it.
“Morning,” he grumbles from the kitchen. “Coffee,” he motions behind him and you see a steaming cup already waiting for you. You silently slip behind him, grabbing the creamer from the fridge and pouring it until you’re sure it’s sweet enough to not actually taste the coffee.
“Thanks,” you mutter, moving to sit at the table. You keep your eyes trained on the TV, pretending to pay attention to the news so you don’t have to look at him. He bores his eyes into the side of your head until you feel like you’re going to have holes in your temple.
When you can’t take it anymore you finally look over at him. He doesn’t smile, his face barely even twitches, he just looks back to his pan and continues scrambling some eggs. “Didn’t know you cooked,” you offer up weakly, already growing anxious from the silence.
It feels wrong, to be walking on eggshells in your own apartment. He grunts and shrugs, “Not really cooking. You had the mix in your pantry,” he tells you brusquely. His tone borders on rude and you scoff.
The audacity of this man to have an attitude with you in your apartment. He was the one who threw a hissy fit last night. You roll your eyes and go back to the news, all it tells you is that the world is just as depressing as the inside of your apartment is right now.
You notice out of the corner of your eye the way his shoulders slump forward. He leans against the oven, seeming not to care if he burns himself. You suppose it doesn’t matter, he’d just heal. “Sorry,” he mutters. It sounds like it pains him to say the words.
“Whatever,” you mumble under your breath. You take a long sip of your coffee, slurping a little so you have something to fill the atmosphere.
He puts some food on a plate and brings it over to the table for you. You usually don’t eat breakfast, preferring to just skip the meal and eat a bigger lunch. But it feels too bitchy to say that to him, so you just accept the food with a strained smile. “Thanks.”
He sits across from you, glaring down at your table like it insulted him. You drag your fork against the plate, letting the scrape of metal against porcelain drown out your worries. Finally, he looks at you. “Look, about last night.”
You tense up. You want to interrupt him, to stop him from explaining. You know it’s just going to hurt your feelings, whatever he says. Whether he tells you it was a mistake or he just realized he’s not attracted to you, either way, you’re fucked. But, it’s also kept you up all night so you just shut your mouth and let him speak.
You keep your gaze trained on your plate, unable to fully face him. He lets out a long sigh and clenches his fork so tight you hear the metal bend. He drops it to the table and clenches and unclenches his fists a few times.
“I just couldn’t kiss you, not when I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons.”
Your brows furrow in confusion and you finally look up at him. “What?” You demand, disbelief coloring your voice.
His eyes are boring into yours, an intensity behind the stare that leaves you feeling a little shaken. “You look like her,” he whispers, and the grief is so thick in his voice it makes your throat tighten. He pauses briefly before continuing. “There are,” he clears his throat like he’s trying not to cry. It makes you lean back in your chair, arms crossed over your stomach uncomfortably.
“There are a few differences, obviously. You’re not a carbon copy. But your mannerisms, your attitudes, you’re so similar. And I,” he shakes his head and gives you one of the most genuinely apologetic looks you’ve ever received. You can tell he really does feel guilty for projecting on you but it doesn’t make you feel any less uncomfortable. “And I just wasn’t doing that for the right reasons. I was pretending you were her and that’s just not fair to you.”
You lean your elbows on the table, head falling into your hands. You let out a rough sigh and groan in irritation. You knew the reason would hurt but you didn’t think it would be this bad. You feel gross, icky under your skin knowing that he was pretending you were another version of yourself. The version of yourself you’ve always wanted to be; the hero.
But you also feel such a deep sadness and sympathy for him. He’d briefly mentioned that he was married to this other you. You can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like, to see your dead wife’s face staring at you and she doesn’t even know you.
“I,” you don’t even know where to begin. You struggle to say anything for a minute and you both just stew in the tense silence. You take in a deep breath and look up at him. You do what you always do, forcing a smile and shrugging it off. “I appreciate the honesty, really.” You stand up, bringing your still-full plate into the kitchen and busying yourself with cleaning up.
“Clearly,” you snap, your voice crueler than it should be, “It was a mistake. We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again, right?”
Logan sits silently at the table. He looks like there’s more he wants to say but you don’t give him the chance. You can’t take it. You finally thought someone had wanted you for you, flaws and all. You’re a fucking idiot, he barely even knows you. Whatever connection you thought was there was just brought about by your own loneliness.
“I gotta get ready for work,” you tell his back because he isn’t looking at you now.
He nods, scraping his fork across the plate as he aggressively cuts into his food. “Right.” You wait for him to say anything else but he doesn’t.
You walk past him and head back to your room. You don’t even have a job, you don’t have to work. But you still grab your purse and head out of the apartment. Pretending you do just so you don’t have to look at him anymore.
You really should have let him finish, though. You should have let him keep talking to you. Let him explain how as much as he sees her in you, that’s not why he wants you. He wants you for you. Because as similar as you can be, you’re still a completely different person from who his late wife was. You’re someone strong and incredible and he genuinely wants you. But he can never really let himself be happy.
It takes a few days for you both to ease up around the other. The incident in the bathroom is never brought up again. You take him shopping for clothes after a few days. It feels wrong to keep giving him Wade’s hand-me-downs. You would have had your friend take him, but you don’t trust Wade’s sense of fashion at all.
After that and getting lunch together while you were out shopping things got a little easier. You bought him a bed for the spare room because you felt guilty seeing him all cramped up on your tiny couch.
You don’t initiate any physical contact with each other. The closest you’d gotten was your hands brushing when you both reached for some popcorn at the same time on movie night. But you hadn’t really minded that bad.
Eventually, he starts to feel like a real roommate and a friend. He lets little pieces of himself slip out. Slowly opens up about his past. You haven’t made any existential discoveries of course. But he tells you stories of what his X-Men were like.
You try not to dance around the topic of his wife, you don’t want him to think you’re avoiding asking about her. But you also don’t want him to think you’re obsessed with discussing her.
He’s right, you two weren’t carbon copies of each other at all. You might share a few things in common but the more both you and Logan learn about each other, the more clear it is how different you both are from your variants.
Sometimes you think he looks at you like he’s really seeing you, not her. But you can never be sure and you don’t want to put much strength behind the thought in case you’re wrong. You hate the idea that when you’re thinking of nothing but him, he’s just seeing her reflection on your face.
There’s nothing you can do about it but it doesn’t stop the hurt.
Tonight, at Wade’s suggestion, you’re both up on the roof waiting for a meteor shower that you’re ninety percent sure is never going to happen. You’re also one hundred percent sure that Wade just tricked you out of your apartment so he could have sex in it. He and Vanessa don’t really get a lot of time alone with Blind Al around. You’re already mentally preparing for the absolute fuck storm you’re going to have to clean up after.
There’s a light nudge on your shoulder and you glance over at Logan. He’s got the whiskey bottle outstretched towards you and you take it from him with a smile. One thing about being his roommate, your alcohol tolerance has skyrocketed. His liver might regenerate, but you’re pretty sure if you keep going down this route yours will give out in a few months.
“Think this is actually going to happen?” You ask, pointing up toward the clear night sky.
Logan chuckles and shakes his head. He stretches out in your flimsy lawn chair and you try not to let your gaze be drawn to the sliver of skin peeking out from his shirt. “Probably not, but I don’t mind being out here.”
There’s an unspoken, with you, that makes you smile. You meet his gaze, his eyes soft as he watches you. “Me either.” You lean back in your chair, pulling your legs up onto the seat and huddling under your blanket. “It’s peaceful.”
You drink together in silence for a little while longer. Then you have to tap out, you don’t want your brain getting too foggy. Tonight is nice, you want to remember it tomorrow. To your surprise, he caps the bottle and places it to the side. You don’t mention it but you do feel like you’ve noticed he’s been drinking a little less. The dark circles under his eyes seem to be easing away ever so slightly.
He looks over at you with an odd light in his eyes. You shift uncomfortably under his stare when it lasts a little longer than it usually does. You chuckle awkwardly, “Do I have something on my face?”
There’s a soft uptick to his lips as he shakes his head. “No,” he mutters, looking back out at the night. “You mind if I ask you something?”
Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”
He still doesn’t look at you and you worry slightly about whatever it is he’s going to ask. He doesn’t ease you into it all, “Wade said your brain was broken?” A laugh springs out of your throat from how brusque that was. He rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’ idiot mentioned it in the void, been wonderin’ about it.”
“It’s fine,” you tell him. You’re relaxed enough that you don’t mind answering. You don’t want to pop the soft bubble you’ve managed to create around each other. “Here,” you hold your hand out for the whiskey bottle. He gives you an apprehensive look before handing it over.
You unscrew the cap, “This,” you say and point your hand at the glass. The liquid inside lifts into the air and you freeze it before dropping it back into the bottle with a splash, a simple little party trick. “This used to be enough to put me in a coma for two days. That’s what he meant. Something happened to me and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”
Logan’s eyes widen and he shakes his head in disbelief. You laugh a little, “I assume your wife never had problems like that?”
There’s always a fond smile when you mention his wife. Whether the memory is bittersweet or not. “She wasn’t perfect, much as I thought so. When she used her powers too much she,” he trails off and looks down at the floor. You frown, ducking your head down so you can catch his gaze.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” you promise quietly.
But he shakes his head and gives you a weak, tight-lipped smile. “No, I want to. And I don’t want you to think you’re the only Flux who struggled. When she used her powers too much she would deteriorate. Parts of her would just disappear, I don’t even know how to describe it. They were destroying her from the inside out.”
You let out a low whistle, eyes widening slightly. “Well, maybe I didn't get the short end of the stick after all.” It’s quiet and for a moment you worry your humor was ill-timed.
But he lets out a rough laugh, “No, I guess not.” He takes in a deep breath before looking back up at you. There’s no distant sadness in his eyes like there usually is when you bring her up. It seems to only be a familiar ache now, rather than something fresh and bleeding. “But what happened to you? Why couldn’t you use your powers?”
“Oh,” you look down at your lap, picking at the strings of your pants. It would be unfair to have him talk about his wife and then wimp out when it was your turn.
“Um, There was this mission. A bunch of kids, mutants, were being held in this warehouse. It was actually pretty normal, just go in, retrieve them, and bring them back to safety. I must have done a dozen of these before, but, I don’t know. Something was this different this time around.”
You can still hear them screaming. In your mind, you hear the way they cried for help. And you see the look on your faces when they realize you can’t save them every time you go to sleep.
You suck in a sharp breath and almost jump when his hand lands on yours. It’s gentle, he’s barely even touching you and he’s not even acknowledging what he’s doing. But you take his hand in yours and squeeze, it’s nice, grounding.
“Long story short, they were heavily guarded and I was pretty drained from fighting off the guards. My powers were practically gone by the time we could even get to the kids. And, I don’t know, something must have gotten knocked over or hit the wrong way because smoke was filling the place and everything was on fire. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t breathe, and the kids were blocked off. There was nothing we could do to get to them. Everyone kept screaming at me, telling me to just use my abilities and get them out of there. I couldn’t,” your voice gets thick and you look anywhere but at him. “I,” your mouth hangs open and you don’t know what you could possibly say.
There’s no excuse for what happened. “I just couldn’t,” you whisper. You sniffle and your eyes flutter rapidly, trying to stop any tears from coming. “Hadn’t been able to use my powers since then. Trauma block or something, I guess,” you dismiss yourself flippantly and shrug.
Logan just squeezes your hand again. He doesn’t seem to know what to say to comfort you and you’re honestly grateful for the silence. You get so sick of people telling you there was nothing you could have done. Or that the others should have helped you. Because that’s not a fucking excuse. There’s no fixing what happened, no giving those parents their children back. You fucked up and you don’t appreciate people giving you cop-outs.
You keep your gaze trained steadily on the ground, eyes going blurry while you try to slip into the back of your mind. You don’t get the chance, though. Logan is kneeling in front of you, hands slipping up your arms to cup your face.
He forces you to look at him, to stay present in the moment with him. “You fucked up,” he tells you. It's so shocking that you can’t help but let out a loud wet laugh. You sniffle and he grins, wiping the tears out from under your eyes. His grip on your cheeks tightens and he makes sure you’re listening as he speaks, “You fucked up, kid. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t try your fucking hardest. And it doesn’t erase all the people you did help.”
Your eyes search him, trying to find any kernel of untruth. Trying to prove to yourself that this isn’t real. That he isn’t real. You don’t deserve this moment of such unwavering trust and faith. This is meant for someone else, for someone who deserves good things in life.
You’ve never truly believed you deserved happiness or peace like this. But right now you don’t care because he is saying everything you’ve ever wanted to hear. And he actually means it.
Your hand drifts up, covering his and tilting your head to press a gentle kiss to his palm. It’s tentative, a test, a way to give him an out if doesn’t want this. His grip on you tightens for half a second before he shoots forward and claims your lips with his own.
It escalates quickly. You practically melt off your chair, straddling his lap while he leans back on the ground. Your hands tug at his hair while he moves desperately over your body. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to do, where he wants to touch you.
You love how fully his hands engulf you, the tight way they cradle you to his chest. You’ve never felt more secure in someone’s arms than you do right now. He’s got you, and he wants you. For you this time, you can tell. You can tell from the way he holds you that this isn’t a desperation born from grief. It’s something else, something you’re not ready to identify yet.
His tongue laves across the seam of your lips, silently asking permission. You smile against the kiss, parting your lips and deepening it. He licks into you, tasting you with a low grunt in the back of his throat. You feel your hips start to move of their own volition. Gently grinding down against his lap. You moan when you feel just how bad he wants you.
You lean back, parting from the kiss and pressing a finger to his chest to keep from following. You chuckle at his eagerness, grinding your hips down again and watching the way he thrusts up to meet your movement. “Didn’t know I was such a good kisser,” you tease.
But he doesn’t return the joke or play along. His face falls slightly and he pulls further away from you, the look on his face distant. “What?” You whisper. “Do I have bad breath?” You joke, trying to keep the mood light.
He shakes his head and runs a tired hand over his face. “No,” he mutters. He repeats the word more firmly and finally meets your gaze. “I think I need to take this slow, just because of…”
He trails off but you know what he means. His wife. You don’t know if he’s still projecting her onto you, you felt so sure he wasn’t earlier. But if every time you kiss he’s gonna pull back you’re not sure that you can do this. “Of course,” you mutter with a bite to your voice. It’s hard not to feel a little rejected every time he acts like this.
You move to get off his lap but his hands clamp down on your hips and he shakes his head again. “You don’t have to get up.”
You hesitate, thighs still hovering over his. You should get up and put as much space between you as possible. But he’s so warm and you want to be held for a little while more. You nod and he looks relieved. You lean back down, pressing your chest against his and letting your head rest in the crook of his neck.
He wraps a heavy arm around your back, keeping you close while the other reaches up to stroke your hair. It makes you feel small, in a good way. Like you can just relax and he’ll take care of you.
“Goddamn,” he laughs a little and you sit up. He nods to the sky above and you turn around, gasping.
“Fuck,” you whisper, “he wasn’t lying.” For once, Wade was telling the truth. Above you, it looks like the sky is falling. Glittering stars dart across the sky, streaks of blue following behind them. You grin, “It’s so beautiful.”
Logan keeps his eyes on you and nods, “Yeah, it is.”
“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”
”Wade,” you greet tightly. You shove the bottle of wine you brought into his chest and he stumbles back. “Just let us in, you freak.”
He frowns, placing a hand over his heart. “You know, it really hurts when you talk like that. I think we all need to hold hands and have a good old-fashioned jerk circle.”
You roll your eyes and flick his thick forehead. “It’s share circle, dumbass.”
”Not the way I do it,” he moves to the side and lets you both in. “Well, mi casa es su casa, especially since Vanessa and I had rockin’ sex in your bed last week.”
He walks off before you can hit him or even begin to respond to that. “I fucking knew it,” you hiss, glaring at his stupid Hawaiian shirt while he mingles with the rest of the people at the party.
Logan chuckles behind you, “How did you two ever become friends?”
You roll your eyes and turn to face him. “I moved in next door,” you respond dryly. “This was a nonconsensual friendship because god hates me, clearly.” You shrug your jacket off and he takes it from you, hanging it up on the hook by the door. He comes back, slinging an arm around your shoulder, and leading you towards the kitchen.
You hear Wade laughing loudly in the background and he grunts, “I’m gonna need a drink for this,” he mutters. You nod your head in agreement. You don’t get very far, though, because without any warning Wade is in front of you. He’s got his ridiculous dog in his arms and shoves her in your face. You grimace and jump back. Logan abandons you and you narrow your eyes at his retreating back. Traitor
Wade says your name with disappointment. “You know, Mary Puppins is a part of my life now. As my best friend, you need to bond with her. I can’t have you two fighting like this.” He shoves the dog into your arms without any warning and you flinch away from her wandering tongue.
“If this thing licks me, I’m putting her down,” you warn him gravely.
He gasps and snatches her back. “You are no longer welcome in my home,” he tells you with a snotty huff. You roll your eyes and watch him go. When he’s out of sight your lips curl up in a grin and you glance at Logan.
He’s by the sink, making himself a drink and taking a deep swig straight out of the bottle. You creep up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smiles, hand coming down to gently hold your arm. “What’re you doing?”
”Come with me,” you whisper. You take his hand and lead him through the apartment. You both skirt around the partygoers, giving them vague greetings and waving them off when they give you odd looks.
Logan leans down, lips brushing across your ear as he whispers, “Where are we going?” Your knees nearly give out when you hear that low tone of voice of his. You just shake your head and lead him down the hall. You can sniff out Wade’s room from the permeating stench of his axe body spray.
You throw the door open and drag Logan inside behind you. His nose wrinkles up at the stiff socks littering the floor and the smell. Other than that, it’s relatively clean. You actually thought this would look so much worse.
“Now,” Logan demands, “are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”
“Well,” you lock the door and turn around with a devious grin. “Seeing as Wade has ruined my favorite sheets, I feel like we need to get him back somehow.” You glance around the room, trying to figure out something of his you want to destroy.
You don’t hear Logan moving towards you. You’re too busy rooting through Wade’s desk and trying to find something good to shred up. All you’re seeing is increasingly more disturbing porno mags. He has got a serious problem with pegging. You briefly wonder if you should set up an intervention or something for him.
You nearly yelp when Logan’s hands grip your shoulders, whipping you around to face him. “I’ve got an idea of what we can do.” That’s your only warning before his lips cover your own. You melt into him immediately, hands fisting his shirt and dragging him closer. He grins against your lips, lifting you and placing you on the edge of Wade’s desk.
“Mm,” you moan but shove his chest back and shake your head. “Wait,” you hop off the desk and take a seat on Wade’s bed instead. “There’s no point in this if we’re not on the bed.”
Logan shakes his head with an amused huff. He walks towards you but instead of taking a seat on the bed next to you like you'd expected, he kneels before you. Your brows furrow together and you frown. “Wait, what’re you doing?”
He gives you a gentle smile, hands coming up to rub gently over your thighs. The warmth of his palms soothes you almost immediately. “You trust me?” He asks, voice a low rumble against your chest.
“Yeah,” you whisper. He nods encouragingly and leans forward, kissing you gently. There’s nothing expectant in this kiss. He’s doing it just to be close to you. Then you feel his hands drifting higher, fingers running over the buttons of your jeans. Your lips part, ready to ask him a question. But he just takes the chance to dip his tongue into your mouth, eagerly tasting you. You moan into it, not protesting when he presses you back into the bed.
His fingers dip under the waistband of your jeans. You lift your hips to help him tug them the rest of the way down until they’re dropping to the floor quietly. You have a million questions dancing on the tip of your tongue but you can’t find it in yourself to actually voice any of them. You don’t want to break the moment. This is the first time he’s seemed comfortable going further than kissing and some heavy petting.
“Fuck,” he whispers. Your hips jolt as he runs a thumb over the wet spot on your panties. “All this just from kissing?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his tone. You feel your face flush, cheeks warming when you realize he’s never actually seen just how much he affects you. “Relax,” he tells you, squeezing your thighs once before slipping a few lithe fingers under the band of your panties.
He tugs them down, but the second he sets eyes on you he gets too impatient to take them off the rest of the way. They dangle off one ankle while he lifts your thighs, setting them on his shoulder and dipping down to press a gentle kiss against you. You gasp at the contact, head tilting back while you instinctually grind your hips up against him.
It’s been a long time since you’ve actually been with anyone and you already know you’re going to cum embarrassingly quick because he fucking devours you. You’ve had boyfriends who liked to eat you out before, but this is something completely different.
He drags his tongue over you, sucking on your clit like it’s his only true joy in life. You can’t even make noises, your jaw hanging slack while you cant your hips higher. He groans when you grind against his face, shaking his head and flicking his nose across your bud. You nearly come from the sight of him smiling against your cunt alone. You feel it building slowly, and it’s like your powers are swelling up along with your release.
Wade’s knicknacks are floating off the shelves, some of them rotating in the air, others fluctuating between liquid and solid forms. You can’t control yourself, you’re barely aware of the chaos happening in the room around you. You just feel a warmth at the tips of your toes, swelling over your body, making your skin feel too tight. There’s little to no warning when you cum. He dips his tongue inside you and you let out a long moan, drenching his face.
The sheets are soaking wet underneath you and you know you’ve ruined his shirt. You’ve never come that hard before and you would reflect on that more if he wasn’t still fucking eating you out. You think your brain is going to melt out of your ears, you're so overwhelmed by all the different sensations.
He dips his tongue into you, dragging out your orgasm and drinking as much of you down as he can. Your hips keep twitching, you’d be thrashing out of his hands if it wasn’t for the near brushing grip he has on your hips. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you reach down, grabbing his hair at the roots and tugging. He groans at the feeling, barely leaning an inch back. “No more,” you whisper, chest heaving.
He smiles, palms smoothing across the skin of your thighs, “You okay?”
“Mhm,” you hum weakly. Your head falls back against the bed with a dull thunk and you struggle to catch your breath. “Holy shit, where did you learn to do that?” He doesn’t answer, just laughs. You jump slightly when he presses a tender kiss on your thigh, every part of you oversensitive.
He moves slowly up your body, hands dragging your shirt up until he’s pulling it over your head. He cups your cheeks, letting you recover while he kisses your cheeks and face. You laugh slightly at the feeling of his beard tickling you.
You pull back, meeting his gaze for a long drawn-out moment before you lean forward to finally kiss him back. You can feel yourself slowly coming back into your body. Your limbs tingle back to life while you lazily make out with him.
His hands drift down your chest, squeezing your breasts. You laugh against his lips, arching into his touch. You reach back, unclipping your bra and throwing it off somewhere in the room. In the far reaches of your mind, you make a mental note to take that when you go. You don’t want to think about what Wade would do with it if he found it.
Logan pulls back from you and your lips tip down at the serious look he wears. Your fingers trace the lines of his face and you tilt your head in question. “What’s wrong?” You whisper. You’re completely naked before him and he’s still clothed, you don’t want him to leave now.
He can’t keep doing this to you. He can’t keep forcing you into these vulnerable positions and then leaving. There’s only so much rejection you can take before you start to resent him for it.
He tilts his head down, gaze dragging across your body appreciatively. He’s looking at you like you’re art and it makes you feel like you should be in a museum somewhere. Finally, his hand drags down from your chest, wrapping around your waist and dragging you onto his lap.
You brace your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He leans towards you, lips trailing lightly across your jaw. “You’re not her,” he whispers against your skin. Your mouth parts, a pained breath slipping through. You try to move back from him. You hadn’t expected something like that, not now, not when you thought you’d made so much progress together.
To have you naked, vulnerable like this, and then say something like that to you. It was fucking despicable. You shove his shoulders back but he barely moves. You shift, trying to cover yourself and fighting off the urge to cry. Why won’t he let you go? Why does he keep doing this to you?
He reaches out, snatching up your wrist before you can get far. “I don’t want you to be. I never wanted you to be her, I need you to know that.”
He tries to kiss you but you snatch his jaw in your hand before he can. You let your nails dig in until there’s red blooming under your fingertips. He hisses, but he’s not mad, you can feel how much he enjoys the little pinpricks of pain.
“No more pulling away,” you warn. “I’m not playing this damn game with you anymore, Logan. You want me, then commit.” You release him with a shove and his pupils dilate with want. You appreciate the gentle way he’s been treating you, but you know you’re both holding back.
He’s the first partner you’ve been with that can actually take what you give and vice versa. There’s something only mutants understand sometimes. You normally have to hold back, have to make sure you don’t scare a guy off by making the walls shake when you come.
You push him down onto the bed. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt and running over the grooves of his muscles. You haven’t had a chance to appreciate just how gorgeous his body is before, but nothing is holding you back now.
You snap your fingers and the buttons rip open, he surges forward catching your lips with his while you both frantically push his shirt off. He throws it off to the side and his fingers fumble with his belt buckle while you trail kisses down his neck. You glance up at him for a second before biting down on a particularly sensitive spot.
He groans, head rolling back while you grin against his skin. You make your way back to his lips. “Don’t hold back,” you tell him, trailing your hands down to his fists and running over the spots where the claws come out.
“Sweetheart,” he starts tone apprehensive. You shake your head, shutting him up with a kiss.
“Don’t. Hold. Back.”
It’s like a switch flipping. Even the way he looks at you changes. You’re not something to be cherished and adored. You feel like a deer pinned by a wolf. He’s got you in his clutches now and there’s a real possibility you might not survive this.
He stands up, dropping you on the bed and dragging your hips off the edge. He doesn’t kick his jeans off, just lowers them enough for his cock to hang out. You’ll address the fact that he wasn’t wearing boxers later, you’re too worried about what’s hanging between his legs right now.
You’re no virgin, but goddamn, there’s no way that’s going to fit.
He laughs, the noise cruel and it makes shivers crawl down your spine. “We’ll make it work, kid.” He spreads your legs and you tilt your hips up, making it easier for him to just sip inside.
There’s a slight stretch, but you’re already soaked for him. You’ve been waiting for this to happen since you walked in on him naked in your bathroom. “Oh, shit,” you toss your head back, taking in a deep breath while he pushes in. It feels like he’s rearranging your insides, molding you to fit him perfectly.
You can already feel yourself clenching down, just being so close to him is enough to make that tingle in the tips of your toes start. He leans down, placing your legs over his elbows and rutting into you like a wild animal. There’s nothing gentle or slow about this.
You’re both so pent-up, tired from the weeks of dancing around each other. Your nails drag up his back, blood following your movement. Your powers are actively surging against him, pain only driving you further into each other’s arms.
You can hear his breathy grunts and groans in your ears and it’s music to you. Neither of you cares about the party going on just outside the door. You’re loud, skin slapping against skin while you loudly call out his name.
God, you hope they hear you. Hope they realize just how thoroughly you’re wrecked for each other. You can feel yourself getting closer, hips stuttering against his while you struggle to match his pace. “Come on,” he mutters in your ear. He releases one of your legs to reach down and rub your clit.
“Fuck,” you groan, reaching up and tugging at his hair while your back bows. It only takes a few more tight circles of his thumb before you’re spasming around him. He’s quick to follow behind you.
He pins your hips to the bed, dropping your legs while he thrusts faster. He loses his rhythm, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as he cums inside you. It’s like a mini death, you feel like you’ve lost time when you finally manage to come back to yourself.
And when you roll your head to the side you realize just how much damage you’ve done to Wade’s bed. “Shit,” You glance up at the sound of his voice and notice little droplets of blood on your hips. Logan’s claws are out, stuck in the fluff of the bed.
You force the words out, tongue heavy in your mouth. “Do that often?”
“Not really,” he mutters. The claws retreat and he rubs his fingers over the blood. It’s not bad, you’ve honestly done worse to yourself. It’s like a big paper cut. When the rough pad of his fingers presses against the cut you hiss at the sting, nearly enjoying it.
“Must be special,” you tell him with a cheeky grin. He shakes his head with a laugh and takes his time pulling out. You hate the loss of him inside you but it's a slight relief. He's larger than any partner you’ve ever had and it’s almost overwhelming to be so full.
“Come on, let's get you dressed.” He pats your thighs, glancing around for your clothes.
“Uh, Logan,” he looks up and you glance at his still very hard cock. “I thought you came?”
The smile he gives you is slightly terrifying. Because there’s a promise in it. He’s not getting you dressed for no reason. He’s taking you back to your apartment so you can have more fun where there are less people and fewer reminders of Wade. “Stamina's part of the deal, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” you whisper, voice breathless in shock. You wipe the cum off your legs with Wade’s sheets. You feel like you’ve thoroughly gotten revenge on him for destroying your favorite bed set. Maybe, you’ve gone a little farther than revenge, though.
You feel guilty, looking around the room and seeing everything you destroyed. Once you’re dressed, you wave your hand, putting most things back where they belong. But there’s nothing you can do about the bed. The sheets are soaked with a mixture of yours and Logan’s releases and there are six holes dug deep in the bed from his claws.
When you step out of the room with Logan, struggling to press down your hair and get it back into place, Blind Al is waiting by the door. She’s doing a line off the back of her hand when you pass by. You think you’ve almost made it scott-free when she yells, “Man, I wish I couldn’t fucking hear,” at you.
You tense up, shoulders to your ears while you run to the door. Logan laughs, grabbing your coat for you and pressing a hand to your back while he leads you to the apartment. “Weren’t feeling so embarrassed earlier,” he teases.
“Shut up,” you grumble, dragging him into the apartment to finish what you couldn’t on Wade’s bed.
You’ve managed to keep any holes out of your bed, you just have to use your powers to keep his at bay. It’s nice, not having to explain why everything around you is levitating to the person you’re having sex with. There were a lot of awkward conversations that came from that.
You’re lying on Logan’s chest, fingers idly running over the veins in his biceps. “I want to be serious about this,” you tell him.
His hand pauses from where it’d been stroking your back. You sit up on your elbow so you can get a better look at him. “I mean it, I,” there’s no way to say this without sounding like a complete bitch. You just have to rip the bandaid off.
You take in a deep breath, “I know that you still miss her,” you say, unwilling to say her name. Logan sits up, looking more serious now. “But I don’t want to be with you if you think that I’m going to turn into her. Or if you think that I’m the last connection you have to her. I’m not her, Logan, and I'm never going to be her.”
You expect anger on his face or regret, maybe. But you don’t expect him to laugh at you. You roll your eyes, lips pursed while you wait for him to finish. He notices the pissy expression on your face and quiets down, but you still see a smile fighting on his lips.
“I know you’re not her. You could not be more different” he tells you with a slight smirk, like there’s an inside joke you’re missing out on. “I was married to her for a long time and I loved her. But we had our time together. Now, I just want my time with you. You’re not her,” he leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “That’s why I want you.”
You feel your heart flutter in your chest and have to fight to keep a stupid grin off your face. “Okay,” you whisper. “Good, well as long as we’re on the same page,” you tell him, faux serious. He just rolls his eyes and pulls you back into his arms.
You’re going to cuddle up beside him when you hear your phone going off like crazy on your nightstand. Your face pinches in confusion and you reach over to grab it.
Wade
Did you fuckers have sex???
In my bed!!!!
And you didn’t invite me?!
….
Wade
Tell Logan I want his claws in me next
“Fuckin’ dumbass,” you mutter, throwing your phone somewhere on the bed. Logan laughs again, drawing you closer.
a/n: i have a really weird tendency for masochism, idk what that’s about. I just feel like if you were having sex with this man, he’s taking you like a wild animal. also feel like I might be a one-hit wonder. the smut just wasn’t doing it for me this time guys nor was the angst, i’m disappointed in myself
I just don't think I did justice to his character in the movie, I might have made it too OOC/ if I did PLEASE let me know
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus ♡
#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#the worst logan x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool#hugh jackman#praying this doesn't flop
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[SUMMARY: Tess is jealous with how protective Joel is over you.]
“If me watching out for her is such a problem then maybe you don’t need to be around me anymore”
Angst smut
It was late in the evening as you sat in your room reminiscing the unexpected night you had with Joel. It wasn’t something you planned, hell, you didn’t even know he felt the same way. He worked with Tess a lot and you assumed they were together but Joel had told you it was the past. A complicated past he didn’t care to explain.
Nothing had happened with Joel before that night but you did feel a closeness with him, one that Tess made known she didn’t like. It was obvious he cared for you but his mind too distracted, nothing had ever come from it. Through it all, he constantly occupied himself with making sure you were ok. Tess couldn’t stand whenever he did anything that involved you, her jealousy was loud even with a simple look. You knew it was best to simply keep your distance from her.
He never liked the fact that you happened to live on a floor in his building where all the drunks would hang out. Every night he walked you to your door and made sure you were safe inside before walking off, but that night it was different. Joel noticed one of the guys staring at your door after he walked away, he watched from the stairway as one of the men walked up to it, silently placing his ear against it. Joel took a step closer not taking his eyes off him before he noticed his hand was on the doorknob and that’s when you heard Joel’s voice.
“What the hell are you doin’” the man quickly backed away not knowing he was being watched.
“Nothing man, just checking to see if that girl is ok, that’s all” you opened the door to find Joel staring down the drunk man a few feet away from you.
“Joel?”
“Get back inside” he spoke without looking back at you.
“What’s going on?”
The drunk man slowly walked away allowing Joel to turn to you.
“What happened-“
“I don’t like you on this floor” he responded roughly, he wiggled your door handle noticing how weak it was.
“He could’ve easily got inside.”
“What?”
“Maybe it’s best you come downstairs with me” his suggestion taking you by surprise.
“What? Joel, I’m fine here-“
“No you ain’t” For the first time his eyes were on yours, his tone colder than he meant it to be.
“I’m not going to stay with you and Tess, she doesn’t even like me-“
“This ain’t about Tess,” he snapped back.
“I’m not gonna have somethin’ happen to you up here when you could’ve been stayin’ with me all along. Just grab some stuff and let’s go”
“But-“
“Let’s go” he spoke sternly as he focused on all the drunk men around.
“Okay, okay” you whispered quickly grabbing a few things before following him out to his apartment.
Once arriving you were met by Tess in the living room who showed a clear dislike of you walking in.
“What’s goin on?”
“There was a problem downstairs, she’s gonna stay here-“
“Here?” She furrowed her brows.
“And where the hell is she gonna sleep if I have the bed and you have the couch?”
“She’ll take the couch, I’ll stay on the floor-“
“Joel, this really isn’t necessary-“ you attempted to intervene.
“It probably isn’t” Tess of course agreed.
“I ain’t leavin’ her down there and that’s final.”
He walked off as Tess glared at you angry with Joels decision.
That night it felt very strange, you didn’t feel welcomed by Tess in any way. She slammed the door loud when she went into her room not wanting to be anywhere you were. Standing in the kitchen awkwardly you watched as Joel poured himself a drink and finished it rather fast. He looked up at you as if he wanted to say more but you could see the hesitation in him..
“Is there a reason that you’re so persistent on helping me?” You whispered.
“I don’t trust them,” he responded flatly. Of course there were more reasons than that, but none he would express.
“I saw the way he was looking at your door”
“They’ve always been like that-“
“Till they do somethin’ and I won’t have that” he took a deep breath and walked off. You watched as he grabbed a pillow and threw it down on the floor beside the couch you would be laying on. His hands settled on his stomach as he closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.
After trying to delay yourself for a bit looking out the window you grabbed your bag and walked towards the couch. Joel hadn’t moved yet, it felt awkward walking beside him.
Laying on the couch you couldn’t sleep and so you decided to take out your tiny note pad and pen and draw a bit. The light of a small candle you had on the table close by helping you see in the darkness. Drawing seemed to be the only thing to help keep you sane, the only thing that felt normal. The pen falling out of your hand you cursed at yourself watching as it rolled right by Joel’s arm. Leaning half way off the couch you reached for the pen, slightly sliding your fingers against his arm when suddenly he awoke and in one quick movement flipped you on your back. You gasped and winced with how hard he slammed you on the floor, his eyes instantly softening when he realized it was you.
“Shit” he whispered panting as he looked down at you, his knee between your legs.
“Jesus” you placed your hand on your chest as it rose and fell quickly.
“You alright?” He whispered. You nodded silently when he unexpectedly caressed the side of your face with his hand. His touch somehow relaxing you, you lay still as he looked down at you before slowly brushing your hand up his chest. He took a deep breath feeling your hand slid up to his face, your thumb sliding along his facial hair.
“I’m fine” you spoke softly as he looked down at you, you could see him get lost in the sight of you until he focused on your lips. He wanted to kiss you, you could see it…he couldn’t hold himself back any longer and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. Joel’s hand slid up your outer thigh, squeezing your waist as his tongue dominated yours. The touch of a man who had wanted you for months. A soft sound escaped your lips sparking something within him, you felt him slowly begin to tug at your pants until they slid off. On his knees between your legs he looked down at you, his eyes visible through the candlelight, you lay eagerly awaiting his touch.
Unbuttoning his pants he slowly revealed a trail of hair that led to his aching cock. Your hips slightly squirming with excitement as he lay over you and placed himself at your entrance. It was as if you forgot the two of you were not truly alone but it didn’t matter. The sound of your breathing was all that could be heard until he pushed himself in with one thrust. You were already wet for him taking him in deeply as you grabbed onto his shirt. Leaning his hand close to your face he was reminded of the hard cold floor you lay on, not wanting to part from you he unexpectedly picked you up in his arms making you gasp.
“Where are we going?” You whispered confused. He lay you back on the warm couch, adjusting himself on you without saying a word. Of course Joel wouldn’t let you lay on a hard cold floor. You smiled as he kissed the side of your face before he continued thrusting his hips against you. Each stroke bringing you closer to a heightened level of pleasure you felt brewing within you. Your legs wrapping tightly around him wanting to feel him close on every level, he groaned against you feeling your nails dig into his shoulder blades…you didn’t want this to end….
You couldn’t stop thinking about that night, how quickly it happened, how intense it was. You remembered him laying back on the floor beside you after, smirking up at you as you lay on the couch looking down at him. Your hand in his he gently kissed it, you couldn’t help but wonder how Tess hadn’t woken up.
The next morning was a little awkward, Tess had come out of the room and as usual didn’t hide her feelings about you. Sarcasm in her tone whenever she spoke, you couldn’t stand it.
“Sleep good?” She asked walking past you.
“Mhm”
Joel looked over at you watching as you avoided eye contact. Focused on you completely he hadn’t realized Tess was speaking to him.
“Joel!” She yelled making you look up catching his eyes on you. He quickly looked away snapping out of it and looked at Tess.
“Remember we’re meeting with Matt today to help with what we’re doing. You ready to go? He should be at the spot already” Joel crossed his arms looking back up at you as you packed your bag.
“Um, I’m gonna go check out something. I’ll be back later. See you” you quickly walked out before Joel could say a word. Tess rolled her eyes noticing how uneasy he became when you left.
“What do you wanna go drop her off where she’s going to?” She spoke under her breath as Joel silently looked back at her and clenched his jaw.
As the day went on you attempted to keep your mind distracted from what had happened the night before, of course to no avail.
To your surprise you had come across Joel himself along with Tess and another man speaking together, must’ve been the man she was talking about. He hadn’t noticed you, maybe it was better that way. Keeping your head down walking past them you were quickly noticed by Tess who attempted to block you from Joel’s view. Of course that didn’t work, she quickly noticed how distracted he became and scoffed.
“We don’t have time for this now, Joel. Just let her go” he ignored her request not taking his eyes off you and walked towards you.
Just as you thought you escaped being seen, Joel stopped you in your tracks unexpectedly.
“Hey” he looked down at you.
“Joel…hi” you whispered.
“You alright?” He noticed how fidgety you became. All you could do was silently nod before Tess called out for him
“Are we doing this or what?!” He didn’t take his eyes off you as you pressed your lips together unsure of what to say.
“God dammit Joel! You can’t babysit this girl forever!” Tess had finally had enough, but more so, you had finally had enough. Not giving Joel a chance to respond you finally spoke up.
“What the hell is your problem?!”
“Are y’all still trying to figure out a way to Jackson or not?” Matt suddenly interrupted making you all turn his way.
“Jackson?” You whispered.
“Yeah Jackson, it’s where his brother might be” you looked at Joel with raised brows.
“I uh…I know an easy way to Jackson” you spoke hesitantly.
“Uh no, I think we’ve got this handled” Tess quickly shut you down. She turned away but Joel remained looking down at you
“Tell me-“
“You’re kidding me right” Tess cut in but he didn’t say a word to her, focused on you and anything you might say.
“Go on, honey” his voice was rough yet his eyes were welcoming.
“I’m not taking suggestions from a little girl who doesn’t know a damn thing.”
“Tess, enough!” Joel yelled looking back before turning back to you.
“Stay right here and give me a minute alright? Please” Joel whispered.
You watched as Tess and him walked off together, far enough where you couldn’t hear a word being said leaving you with Matt.
“Don’t worry about Tess, sometimes she could be a-“
“A bitch?” You whispered not taking your eyes off them. You couldn’t hear what was being said but it was clear they were in a heated debate. The vein in Joel’s neck pronounced as he got louder making you wonder what exactly was being said.
“This is ridiculous” you began to walk towards them as Matt watched.
The closer you got the more clearly you could hear them speak.
“She ain’t doin’ nothin’ wrong” you heard Joel express.
“Nothing she does is ever wrong to you, Joel. I don’t know what the hell it is with her that-“ suddenly there was silence.
“You slept with her, didn’t you?”
Joel didn’t say a word, that alone giving away the truth.
“Unbelievable Joel. Aren’t you old enough to be her father?”
Joel’s nostrils flared, of course it wasn’t something he was proud but it wasn’t something he regretted either.
“Must’ve laid it on you good if you’re doing whatever she wants. Got herself a good deal, opens her legs in return for your help-“
“It ain’t like that and you know it” she could hear the anger build up in his tone.
“Oh, so defensive of her” she began to laugh.
“Don’t tell me you give a shit about her, Joel” you could hear Tess laugh as she continued to taunt him. The anger in her building the more she realized Joel had grown an attachment with you he could no longer ignore.
“Always checking on her like if she’s a damn baby, if she’s old enough to lay on her back then she’s old enough to take care of herself-“
“She was a moment of weakness, a one time thing” he abruptly stepped forward tightening his lip. Your heart sunk.
You had no words.
“She doesn’t matter to me the way you did”
Not wanting to hear a single word more you turned away running back.
“Hey, where ya going?!” Matt called out to you as you ran past him and back to your apartment.
“Is that what you want to hear from me, Tess?” Joel continued, looking directly at her.
“Is that what you want me to say? Cause it ain’t the truth.” She stood in silence, clearly pissed before Joel realized Matt was calling out to you. Looking over he could see you running off in the distance, he quickly realized you had heard what he said.
“Shit” he whispered before turning back to Tess.
“If me watching out for her is such a problem then maybe you don’t need to be around me anymore” She was left speechless and with those final words he left her sight.
Tears running down your face you rushed off inside your building not knowing Joel was close behind. You ran up the stairs past groups of people before hearing Joel’s voice. He called your name pushing through everyone but you ignored it only making him move quicker.
Getting to your floor lost in your emotions you hadn’t realized the same drunk man in front of your door. The same man who had been watching you over time, waiting for when you’d show up alone.
“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” Before you could even look up, you heard Joel’s voice.
“Don’t talk to her” you looked back to see him standing by the stairs.
“Don’t tell me you were the one who made her cry?” The man laughed before turning to you as you slowly put your key in the doorknob without taking your eyes off him.
“What your lil’ boyfriend do huh?” You backed up against the door as he got closer. Unexpectedly he brushed his hand across your face wiping off a tear as you flinched. Joel took a quick step forward before another man stood before him, blocking his way.
“We just wanna make sure she’s ok”, you could hear the slick tone in his voice. He moved towards you, ready to put his hands on you again until Joel elbowed the other man knocking him down the stairs. The fall distracting the man about to come towards you, you were able to kick him in the groin knocking him to his knees.
“You bitch!” He groaned, Joel quickly ran towards you, opening your door and pulling you inside.
You watched as he locked your door looking through the peephole before he turned to you. He was out of breath yet focused on you, you took a step back.
“What the hell do you want?”
“What did you hear?” He asked stepping forward.
“What does it matter, go be with Tess” you attempted to walk away but he stopped you by your arm.
“Who the hell said I wanted Tess?”
“You!” you yelled pulling your arm away.
“Cause I was just a moment of weakness right?!” Joel began to shake his head.
“No” he whispered.
“Listen to me-“
“How stupid of me to have slept with a man like you. Made me think you cared about me all along”
“I do!” He grabbed your arms giving you as light shake trying to get a word in.
“What you heard wasn’t what you think-“
“It was loud and clear. A one time thing, glad I was useful for that moment for you-“
“Listen to me!” He held your face in his hand forcing you to look up at him. Once your eyes stared into his it was as if he lost track of everything in a split second. He breathed deeply as you felt the grasp of his hand soften.
“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you”
“But Tess-“
“Forget Tess” his brows furrowed.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to feel you….how long I’ve wanted to be in you” his grasp slightly tightened on your face as he spoke.
“Joel..” you whispered as he leaned closer until he kissed you, savoring every taste of you.
“Come with me to Jackson” he spoke against your lips.
“Please, I don’t wanna do this without you”
You had no idea how you would be dealing with Tess through all of this but with Joel’s reassurance you gave in. A choice he would make sure you wouldn’t regret.
Tags (if you asked to be tagged and don’t see yourself on the list, some tags didn’t work, I’m not sure why!)
@moonpascal @katmoonz @joelsteinfeld @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @sunnytuliptime @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco
#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x female oc#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x female reader#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller fan fic#joel miller x f!reader
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Pt. 2 Invincible Variants x Fem! Reader
Includes: Mohawk Mark, Omni Mark, No Goggles Invincible, Goggles Invincible, Sinister Mark
Word Count: ~4k
Part 1
Warnings: Dark Content, Violence, Yandere Behavior
Also switched up character order lol
Mohawk Mark
“I can’t believe I lost all my files,” you murmured.
“That’s what you’re worried about?” He asked. “I thought not dying should be at the top of your list.”
You both were still outside the prison facility. You dusted off your clothes before standing up, turning away from him, and walking off.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
He was now in front of you, floating slightly off the ground. You stopped and responded simply.
“Far away from here.”
As you continued to move forward, he moved backwards, still in front of you as he spoke.
“Feel free to walk. But you won’t get far without shoes.”
You frowned. Why was he your voice of reason now?
As you took a step forward, this time he didn’t move, you bumping right into him. Irritation flashed on your face and he smiled.
“Calm down...” His arms wrapped around your waist as he leaned in close. “I’ll fly you home after I’m finished.”
“As if I’d trust you,” you told him. “I don’t know why you’re- Here- But I- Would you stop kissing me?!”
He laughed and pulled just a little bit away from your lips. He didn’t move his hands though.
“My bad. What were you saying?” He asked, feigning innocence. You wanted to rearrange that face of his.
“What I was trying to say was-”
“Hold that thought.”
In an instant he shot past you, flying back towards the prison. You spun around and squinted to get a better look, noticing electricity shooting through the air in the distance.
“Powerplex?” You whispered. He was one of your patients, so you were aware of his powers.
Both were too far away to know what was going on, but judging by the electricity shooting everywhere and his laughter, you assumed they were battling.
You sighed.
“Not my problem.”
Well maybe it was. It was safe to assume your car was destroyed.
You could attempt the walk back to your home, but you lived far away, and your legs would give out at any minute now.
And you were shoeless, no less.
The adrenaline had worn off, and you slumped behind a nearby tree, opting to rest instead. If you died here, then… oh well.
“Hopefully he doesn’t take too long…” you murmured.
~
“Ah shit. Where’d she go?”
He had got caught up in battle and completely lost sight of you.
“She couldn't have gotten far…” He murmured, surveying the area in the sky. “But knowing her, maybe she did walk home.”
He paused when he noticed a familiar body curled up in a grassy area. He flew over, landing next to the tree you were near.
“Hey, you alive?”
Your eyes peeled open.
“Unfortunately…” You murmured. Either that or you were in hell.
He then picked you up, before taking off into the sky.
“Alright, point in the direction where you live,” he said. When he didn’t get a response he looked down, noticing your eyes were closing again.
You weren’t responding. His eyes widened.
“Shit! Hey! Stay with me!”
He shook you, and your eyes snapped open. Confusion crossed your face until he spoke.
“Point to where you live.”
You remained quiet for a bit, before pointing to your left.
“30 miles…Or 48 km that way.”
He then sped off, and you closed your eyes. You didn’t know how long you were flying, but when he stopped, your eyes opened again. You gave him more directions, and that eventually led to your home.
Your back door was unlocked and he made his way inside, before gently setting you down on your couch. He crouched low to look you over. You took some time to collect yourself, before shooting him a glare.
“What..?” You said, annoyance in your voice. He groaned.
“Ugh, you had better be glad I like you. I don’t normally put up with this shit.”
You frowned at his words. He sighed before one of his hands reached out, resting on your head. His voice was now calm as he looked at you.
“...You okay?”
The frown left your face, your gaze softening.
“Yeah, just tired,” you murmured. “I would thank you for bringing me home, but you were the cause of all this.”
“I mean you could still thank me.”
You smiled before replying.
“No, I don’t think so.”
He raised an amused eyebrow before standing up.
“So…” He started. “Want me to keep you company or…”
You looked away, before looking back up at him.
“If you have nothing else better to do,” you said.
He then moved close to you, and out of surprise you moved back, unknowingly giving him space. He climbed onto your couch, before casually propping his head up with his hand. The two of you now faced each other and you frowned.
“When you said 'company', I thought you meant anywhere else in my home but here,” you flatly said. He smiled.
“I thought you didn’t like me,” he teased you. You rolled over to face away from him.
“I’ll hate you again once I get some rest.”
His arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer, your back now firmly against his chest.
“I should keep you up all night then…” He whispered in your ear. You immediately slapped his arm, not bothering to turn around to face him. He laughed. “Alright, alright… Worth a shot.”
Omni Mark
You abruptly shut off the news, faced with a rude awakening.
Your savior wasn’t who you thought he was.
While he did rescue you, he wasn’t exactly good. That left you with too many questions.
“I need to clear my head…” you murmured, opting for some fresh air. As you opened the window to your bedroom, you paused, noticing something sitting neatly in your driveway.
It was your car.
You furrowed your brows before racing towards your front door. As you made your way outside you circled your vehicle, your thoughts racing.
Hadn’t you abandoned this car in the city? How did it get here?
“It’s dark out, you know.”
You froze in place, recognizing the voice. It was him. As you focused on your reflection in the car window, you also noticed his reflection as well. He was floating in the air behind you as he spoke.
“Staying inside is a safer option.”
You remained in place, your back facing him as you gripped your door handle.
“Would that keep me safe from you?” You asked him. As he maintained his calm expression, you looked down. “You shouldn’t be here… I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“...Are you sure?”
You sighed frustratingly. If he really was a bad guy, then why did he bother to save you? Why’d he bring your car home? Maybe you’ve got it all wrong?
“I’m not sure about anything,” you admitted.
You then made your way back to your house, before motioning him to come in. You locked the door behind you and closed all your curtains.
“I assume you know what’s happening now,” he stated.
“Yes, I know lots of Invincibles are attacking places all over the world,” you said. You looked away for a bit, before looking back at him, determination on your face. “But, I know you wouldn’t do that. You’re here to help out, right?”
He gave you a small smile.
“You know that isn’t true.”
You looked away, your eyes downcast before determination immediately showed back up again.
“Maybe it isn’t. But that doesn’t matter. At least not to me.” You then began to panic. “W-what am I saying?! Of course it matters. I just…”
He saved you. Hell, you had even kissed him. You couldn’t start second guessing now.
He watched you pace around your room as you considered your options.
“Regardless.” You stopped your rant when he spoke. “I’m only here for you. Hopefully this world hasn’t treated you poorly.”
He brushed his gloved hand across your cheek and you looked away. It was really difficult to hate him.
“Well, I work a dead-end job and despise my entire existence, does that count?” You asked. He smiled.
“If you want me to get rid of anyone, then just let me know.”
Your eyes widened. He said those words so easily. He would even kill for you?
…Well there was this one coworker…
“No, you shouldn’t be hurting people!” you told him, panic in your voice. Your dark thoughts had terrified you. “I wouldn’t want you to do that!”
He then cupped your face, you looking directly at your reflection in his goggles.
“It’s who I am, Y/n. This world could burn for all I care. All I need is you.”
As he embraced you, your heart was now racing. You couldn’t get out of this mess, you were sure he wouldn’t let you. You had loved him at first, but now… you were terrified of him.
“...Is something wrong?”
Your blood ran cold when he said those words. There wasn’t an ounce of question in his voice, it was more of a calm observation.
“I’m just tired…” you lied, trying to slow your racing pulse. Your eyes frantically darted around the room as you searched for something, anything, to get you out of this mess. You had let him into your home. You trusted him.
You… still trusted him.
All he ever did was love you. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all…
No Goggles Invincible
“We’re gonna have so much fun!!”
He was flying through the air with you in his arms. His flight pattern ranged from spirals, to spins, to abrupt zigzags. Half of the time, your eyes had trouble determining your whereabouts. The other half was spent praying you wouldn’t die.
“Where should we go first?” He asked. You didn’t know if his question was directed at you or himself. “How about a nice park? Or a restaurant? Oh- Oh! Space is pretty nice! Want to go there?”
He then zoomed upward, the air beginning to thin at an alarming rate. You gasped as you slapped his arm as many times as you could, trying to gain his attention. Thankfully he hadn’t made it anywhere near space when he paused, tilting his head.
“What’s wrong?”
You then covered your throat with both your hands. Realization crossed his face before he lowered himself back down to a breathable atmosphere. You inhaled loudly before hanging your head low, trying to catch your breath. He watched you with concern.
“Ah shit, sorry about that. I’m so used to going up there,” he said. “Are you okay?”
You were not okay. You were doomed.
He was going to kill you at this rate. And by complete accident.
“Please… Just put me back on the ground…” you said. He nodded, before descending from the sky. The second he set you on the ground was the second you moved away from him, falling onto your knees.
“Sorry, this is all kind of new to me,” he said. “I should probably treat my girlfriend better-”
“I am not your girlfriend,” you snapped at him. He smiled.
“Aww, you don’t mean that. You’re just upset! You have every right to be!”
He was constantly hugging you. And kissing you. You immediately saw red.
“Don’t touch me!!” You yelled.
“Aww pumpkin-”
“Get away from me!!”
“But-”
“Let! Go of me!!!”
He then released you, and the sudden force of you pulling away caused you to fall backwards. As you landed, you cut the side of your cheek. You wiped the area before pulling yourself up, and screaming at the top of your lungs.
“I am not your girlfriend!! And I hate you!! I hate-”
The rest of the words got caught in your throat when you saw his expression. His smile, and usual optimism, was gone. It was now replaced with a quiet, yet cold stare.
“You don’t mean that, do you?” He asked you. Even his tone had changed. It was horrifying.
You didn’t know what he would do to you, but you knew what he was capable of. All of your anger had left you and you shamefully looked towards the ground instead. Maybe your death wouldn’t be accidental after all.
“N..No. I didn’t mean that,” you said. “I was just scared.”
You remained quiet, refusing to look up at him. You were then greeted with a hug, his usual cheerfulness once again back in place.
“Aww it’s okay sweetie!! I’m sorry for scaring you!!” He told you. You leaned into him, thankful that he was now back to his usual self.
Once he finished cuddling you, he pulled away to examine the cut on your cheek.
“Let’s get that fixed up, okay?”
“O-okay.”
It didn’t take long. He had easily broken into a nearby pharmacy and grabbed a handful of things. The two of you sat in the middle of the pharmacy, and he dabbed a cotton ball on your cheek. You hissed in pain, and he laughed.
“Does it hurt that much?” He asked you. You nodded. “You’re really fragile! And really cute~”
As he placed a comically large bandage on your cheek, you immediately thanked him. He smiled as he spoke.
“Mark.”
“What?” You said, furrowing your brows.
“My name! It’s Mark. Mark Grayson.”
…Huh. That name didn’t ring a bell.
“Okay then. Thanks, Mark,” you told him. He nodded.
“What’s your name?”
Well... there was no point in lying to him.
“It’s Y/n,” you told him. He lit up.
“Hi Y/n!!” Anddd he was cuddling you again. “Let’s stick together forever, okay?”
“...O-okay.”
He was… a handful. You quickly learned that playing along was better than outright refusing his advances.
You never wanted to see that side of him again.
Goggles Invincible
“Why would you want to go home dear? You have me.”
It was difficult to convince him of anything.
You were currently sitting in his lap, your eyes focused on anything else but him. Both of you were far away from all the turmoil now, and the grassy area you were currently in was quiet.
“I wanted to say goodbye to my family,” you said. “If you say you love me, then I should at least be able to make decisions.”
It was hard to gauge his emotions while goggles covered his eyes. He was currently smiling though.
“That’s a fair point... A relationship does require input from both parties.” His hand rested on the top of your head. “Unfortunately, I don’t like your family.”
That was his way of saying that he’d kill your family on the spot. You remained quiet as he continued to speak.
“Have anything else in mind?”
What else could you think of? A frown was on your face as you finally mustered up the courage to look at him.
“I’d really wish you’d go die in a hole somewhere,” you stated. His smile had widened at that response.
“How cute. If I died, then who would take care of you, hm?”
“I am capable of handling myself.”
“I highly doubt that.” Before you could protest, his hand tugged gently at your shirt. You froze at the sudden contact. “Your clothes are covered in ash. A change in outfit would be nice, don’t you think?”
You looked away, before nodding in agreement. Your eyes were now hopeful as you spoke.
“I can go home and change-”
“No, there’s a small store nearby,” he said. Well that completely killed off your hope. “We’ll go there.”
“...Alright.”
He then lifted you into his arms before taking off into the skies. The silence was eating at you, but you refused to speak.
“Aren’t you curious about how I look?” He asked you. The thought had never crossed your mind until now. You furrowed your brows, but nodded.
He then paused his flight in midair, before pulling off the mask, the goggles leaving with it. You couldn’t stop your surprised expression.
He was… pretty good looking. Too bad his personality completely ruined that fact. He gave you a small smile.
“So, am I your type?”
You frowned.
“Unfortunately, homicidal people are not my type.”
He chuckled before pulling his mask and goggles back into place.
“I’m more of a sadist, actually,” he told you. “You know, you were much more open to me killing people in my world. I guess this version of you is more…soft.”
“I don’t know the me from your world,” you stated. “I would never approve of killing.”
“Hm…”
He landed in front of the small store, before setting you down. You noticed the store was dimly lit inside, and you tried the door.
“It’s closed,” you murmured.
His hand then burst through the front window, shattering it into pieces.
“Not anymore.”
The thought of breaking and entering didn’t sit well with you, but you needed clothes. You made your way inside, him standing right behind you. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about-
“Can I…help you?”
A new voice made you freeze in place. A worker was looking directly at the two of you, clothes in hand. She seemed to have been restocking.
“I’ll pay for the window! And the clothes!” You exclaimed, your tone panicked. “We won’t hurt you, I promise!”
“Speak for yourself…” He murmured, just loud enough for the worker to hear. She froze at his words, before responding.
“You triggered a silent alarm when you broke the glass. The police are on their way.”
“I see.” In an instant he was now standing behind the worker, resting a hand on her shoulder. He calmly spoke to you. “Y/n… Would you like me to kill this person?”
“No,” you hissed. “Let’s just get the clothes and leave.”
“That option is boring,” he stated. “How about this? Either I kill this worker right now. Or… I kill whoever shows up to the alarm.”
Your eyes widened at his words.
“Of course if you pick the second option then we’ll have to wait,” he mused.
“I won’t let you do that!” You exclaimed.
“You know you can't stop me.”
“Then… t-then I won’t choose!”
“That’s fine… I’ll just kill her. And whoever shows up.”
His hand gripped the worker's shoulder much more tightly as she yelled out in pain.
“Stop!!” you pleaded. He smiled at you, before loosening his grip.
“Make your decision, sweetheart.”
Your heart was once again racing. As your eyes shifted over to the worker, she spoke to you, the look of pure desperation in her eyes.
“Please... I have a family…”
The wailing sirens were now outside the small building. As two officers entered the store, you shut your eyes, his words ringing in your head.
~
You exited the building, clothes in hand, and a thousand yard stare on your face. He casually flicked the blood off his right hand as he spoke.
“Well, that was fun,” he said. His now clean hand then rested on the top of your head, before he leaned in, kissing the area gently. “Look on the bright side… At least you didn’t have to pay for the clothes.”
Sinister Mark
“Oh stop acting like a child. I only broke your arm.”
His words were humiliating.
You attempted to catch your breath, your back against the cold ground. He was sitting on top of you, casually continuing the one-sided conversation.
“Though I’ll admit, you were tougher than I expected,” he said.
As he pulled himself off you, you internally calmed, thankful that this nightmare was over. You then dragged yourself up into a sitting position, clutching your broken arm. When you noticed that he was smiling at your misfortune, you gritted your teeth.
“What’s the matter?” The words had left your mouth before you could even stop yourself. “Too afraid to kill me?”
The smile immediately left his face. In an instant he was once again over you, his hand harshly gripping your throat.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he said. “I let you live because you’re the only thing that’s intriguing on this planet.”
You could barely speak now, your throat burning as you gasped for air. He was not letting up. You clawed at his glove with your one good arm. He watched your expression for a bit, before releasing his hold on you. As you choked for air, he frowned, your words ringing in his head.
Why couldn’t he just kill you?
He wanted to bash your head in. It wouldn’t be difficult. But something in the back of his mind wouldn’t let him.
“…”
He then crouched down, one of his gloved hands resting on your good arm. You froze in place at the sudden contact.
“Stop being difficult,” he told you. “You know you can't beat me.”
He then pulled you up. Your eyes remained focused on the ground as you gritted your teeth. He was right, it was hopeless.
“I know that,” you murmured. "But I can’t… I can’t let you do what you want.”
He grew silent. This was all a game to him. But to you it was… something else.
Your eyes widened when you felt his gloved hand rest gently against your face. And your heartbeat sped as he wiped away a stray tear that had slipped down your cheek. A mix of surprise and confusion was on your face, your eyes still trained on the ground.
“You shouldn’t be so quick to throw your life away,” he warned you. One of his fingers tilted your head up, and he looked you over. You frowned.
“Why… aren’t you killing me?” You asked him. He leaned in, whispering in your ear.
“Do you want me to?”
You looked away, considering his words. As you did that he grabbed your broken arm and harshly shifted it, causing you to scream out at the sudden pain. He then immediately let go, and you clutched your arm, a throbbing pain now aching the area.
“Well would you look at that? You can scream,” he said. “I’ve never put a limb back in place, but I’m sure you’ll figure out the rest.”
Your eyes just looked at him, before you realized what he meant.
You had feeling in your arm again. He had put it back in place. You were completely silent now, unable to process what was happening.
“Be sure to keep me more entertained the next time we meet,” He said. As he leaned in, you froze, before you felt his lips brush against your forehead. “I intend to make you scream more. One way or another.”
“Fuck you,” you said.
He smiled this time, not bothering to respond. He then took off straight up into the sky, before pausing for a split second, and shooting off to the right. Once he had left your field of vision you collapsed to the ground, clutching your arm.
You couldn’t believe you had survived that.
Your eyes then searched the ground below, looking for something you had lost during the battle. After some time you found your earpiece, and you hastily put it back into your ear.
“Please pick up, please…” you whispered. “Cecil? Cecil!?”
“Y/n?” His voice, and the slight static, caused you to sigh in relief. “Are you alright?”
“I encountered one of the Invincible variants. I… couldn’t beat him.” Tears spilled down your cheek now, but you maintained a calm tone as you clutched your arm.
“Jesus, Y/n. You’re alive, that’s all that matters,” Cecil said to you. “Should I send help?”
“No,” you quickly replied. “I don’t know if he’s still in the area. I’d rather be the only casualty if he is.”
“Are you injured?”
“It’s nothing too serious,” you lied. “I just need some time to recover. Don’t send anyone.”
“...Alright kid, take as much time as you need.”
The line went dead, and you pulled the earpiece out your ear before forcing yourself to stand.
“Next time…” You whispered, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be ready next time.”
~
Posting this on April 1st is wild lol. This took longer than usual to write, but I liked how all the stories turned out.
I only intended for this to have two parts. So I have no idea what I am going to write after this.
#invincible variants#writing#yandere#fanfic#fanfiction#fem reader#fem!reader#invincible#invincible season 3#invincible x reader#sinister mark#mark grayson#mohawk mark#mohawk invincible#sinister invincible#yandere invincible x reader#yandere invincible#yanderewriting#yandere behavior#nongogglesinvincible#nogogglesible#googlesinvincible#reader#invincible season three#invincible x you#invincible x y/n#invinciblexfemalereader#female reader#x reader#reader insert
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Eyes On Me (3) | Jack Abbot x Popstar ! Reader
Jack Abbot x f! Popstar ! Reader
Summary: You and Jack reunite face to face for the first time since everything that happened a year ago. The air between you is thick with tension—memories, emotions, and all the things that were never said. Neither of you knows exactly what you’re stepping into, but the pull is undeniable.
Word Count: 5344
Warnings: Age Gap (mid 20’s/late 40’s or early 50’s,) Mentions of mental health struggles, panic attack
Author's Note: The story of Jack and Popstar ! reader continues!!! I realized I made this fic so dramatic very quickly lol. Like so unrealistic but what the hell. I’m all for the drama. this may not be a good fic but at least it’s entertaining (I hope so). If I forgot to tag you let me know??? I think I got everyone. Again sorry for typos and whatnot. Also I started writing a fic for Michael Robinavitch called Across The Hall. So keep a look out for that here soon! - ryn
“Look who’s here!” Michael’s voice rang out, playful but with a hint of something else, something uncertain. He looked between you and Jack, his gaze shifting quickly from one to the other, like he wasn’t sure who the comment was really meant for. Maybe it was for you. Maybe it was for Jack. Maybe it was for both of you.
“Jack—”
“What are you doing here?” He cuts you off, his voice sharp with disbelief. His eyes search for yours, intense and searching. You can tell he’s shocked to see you, but the confusion in his gaze only makes you wonder if he’s angry, too. You assume he’s thinking the worst because the last time you saw him, you were at your absolute lowest—everything had fallen apart, and you were barely holding it together.
“I’m okay,” you say quickly, trying to reassure him, though it feels like a lie. Jack is taking you in, his eyes sweeping over you, as if trying to piece together the story you’re not telling.
“Are you? Really?” His voice softens, but there’s an edge of concern in it. He’s asking about more than just the physical injury. He can see it in your eyes—the puffiness, the remnants of tears you haven’t fully wiped away. He’s worried.
“Yes,” you answer, though it’s not exactly what he wants to hear. You’re okay mentally, or at least you’re trying to be. Physically, though, you’re a mess. You don’t say it, but the truth is there—your heart feels like it’s been through a storm, and the ankle injury is just the last of it.
His eyes flicker down to your ankle, briefly, before returning to your face, sharp and searching.
Michael chimes in, “Well, she fell, hurt her ankle—”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Jack responds, his voice flat, though his eyes never leave you. There’s still a mix of confusion in his gaze, but it’s deeper now—something else is written there, something you can’t quite place. It’s like he’s trying to figure out how to feel, what to think, but every emotion seems tangled together, making it harder for him to make sense of it.
“Okay…” Michael trails off, his eyes flicking again between you and Jack, feeling the thick tension hanging in the air.
“I’m just gonna go… make sure they get you set up for the X-ray, so, uh, I’ll just…” He stands from the swivel chair, hesitates for a moment, but with the weight of the silence pressing down on him, he quickly excuses himself. He slips out of the room, the door clicking softly behind him, leaving you and Jack alone.
The moment the door shuts, the quiet between you two feels heavier, the kind of silence that carries a thousand unsaid words. Neither of you moves, as if the air itself is holding you both in place, waiting for the other to speak.
Jack’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing here?” he asks again, but harder this time—less confused, more raw disbelief.
You force a weak laugh, trying to lift the thick tension. “Geez, what, no ‘hi’?” You shift uncomfortably on the exam bed, the paper beneath you crinkling loud in the silence.
“‘Hi.’ Yeah. Sure. Hi.” He laughs once, hollow and stunned. “I just—I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Not like this…Why are you in Pittsburgh?”
The question hangs heavy between you, and for a moment, you almost wish you hadn’t come. The weight of it presses down on you as you sit on the cold exam bed, feeling exposed in ways you never planned on. You take a breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words slip out before you can stop them.
“I dropped an EP,” you say quietly, your eyes avoiding him as you focus on the sterile white walls of the room, the buzz of fluorescent lights above. It feels like you’ve just confessed something huge, but also something small, like it should be obvious.
“Right… Tethered”
Your eyes widen. Oh god, he listened to it, you thought. And that meant he probably heard that song—the one you wrote about him that night. You open your mouth, instinctively ready to explain, but you don’t have to. He’s staring down at your ankle again instead.
“I was… uh… running,” you say, forcing a shrug. “Apparently, dodging paparazzi counts as cardio now. Who knew?”
You try to joke, but even as the words leave your mouth, you know it won’t land.
He doesn’t laugh. Not even a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
His jaw tightens. His eyes—those steady, unrelenting eyes—lock onto yours, full of the same intensity you remember from that night. It’s not anger. It’s not even disappointment. It’s deeper than that. It’s knowing. And it cuts through whatever act you’re trying to hold onto.
“I got away… but I tripped,” you admit, your voice quieter now.
His voice is careful, measured. “Your team brought you in?”
You hesitate. “No. I, um… I took an Uber.”
He blinks. “You… what? Where was your team?”
“I was alone,” you admit, shrinking a little. “They don’t know-”
He says your name—low, steady, and full of something like disbelief. And maybe something else, too. Worry.
You exhale. “I know. I know how it sounds—”
“You shouldn’t have done that. You didn’t think to call anyone?”
There’s no anger in his voice. Just quiet frustration. Concern wrapped in steel.
“I panicked— the first thing I thought was getting to the hospital—”
His jaw works as if he’s holding back a dozen things he wants to say. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, the storm behind it barely contained.
He doesn’t speak right away. Because he’s imagining it.
You. Alone. No security. Swarmed by cameras and strangers with no boundaries. You had to run—run—just to escape them. You fell. You hit the ground. The way you must’ve picked yourself up, dazed, shaking, and still didn’t call anyone. And instead of calling your team you just got into the back of a stranger's car and made your way here by yourself.
His blood runs hot at the thought.
You’d been back in his life for less than ten minutes, and already he’s back there—the same magnetizing feeling he had towards you flooding him full force, just like it had the night you collapsed.
But now? He’s not just worried.
He’s unraveling.
He steps back from the bed suddenly, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes like he’s trying to hold himself together. His breath shudders out.
“Jack?” you say, voice soft.
He doesn’t answer.
Because it’s too much. He’s exhausted. Two back-to-back shifts. The long hours. no sleep, barely a second to breathe. The stress. The nights he tried not to think about you. And then you—you—walk in. After a year. Seeing you again. Like this. Hurt. Pale. Fragile.
His hands start to tremble. He flexes them, trying to shake it off, but his chest is tightening, and his breaths are getting shorter, quicker.
He looks away from you, jaw clenched, blinking fast.
You sit up straighter, alarmed. “Jack?”
You watch his shoulders rise and fall faster than before, his hand pressed against his thigh like he’s anchoring himself to the moment. His eyes are fixed on the floor, unfocused.
“Jack,” you repeat, softer now, almost a whisper. “Are you—are you okay?”
He nods, but it’s a lie. You see it.
He lifts a hand. “I’m fine,” he mutters. “Just—just give me a sec.”
But he’s not fine. Not even close.
He takes a step back, then another. “I… I need to go.”
“Wait, what? Jack—”
But he’s already turning, already moving. The words catch in his throat like smoke.
He pushes open the door to your room and steps into the hall without looking back.
“Jack?” Michael spots him from the nurses’ station. “Where are you going? You’ve got—”
“I need a minute,” he mutters, not slowing down.
He walks fast, cutting through the ward like it’s closing in on him. The fluorescent lights, the voices, the antiseptic air—it’s too much. His brain is buzzing. His skin feels too tight.
He doesn’t stop until he hits the stairwell. And then he’s climbing—two steps at a time—until he bursts through the rooftop door and into the daylight.
The sun hits him hard. Bright. Blinding.
The city hums below—cars, horns, life. But up here, it’s quieter. Empty. His lungs finally expand, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.
He walks to the edge, gripping the railing, head bowed. The heat of the afternoon presses against his back, but the chill running through him doesn’t ease.
—
Jack was standing on the far side of the rooftop railing, close to the ledge—but not dangerously so. Just far enough to signal he needed space. He leaned back against the metal bar, eyes locked on the city stretched out before him, the midday breeze tugging gently at his scrubs. He’s been in here for a while.
Michael found him there—silent, still—his silhouette sharp against the sun.
He didn’t speak right away. Just walked over and leaned beside him, arms folded casually on the railing.
“We did an X-ray,” Michael said after a beat. “Ankle’s fine. Just a sprain. Called her team? They’re on their a way.
Jack gave a small nod—barely perceptible.
“But,” Michael added, voice softer now, “she’s worried about you.”
Jack’s jaw tightened. His fingers curled around the metal.
“I shouldn’t have left like that,” he muttered. “I just… couldn’t stay in that room. I don’t know.”
Michael nodded like he understood—because he did.
Michael let the silence stretch a little longer, letting the wind speak for them. Then, without looking over, he asked gently,
“You okay?”
Jack didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the skyline, his expression unreadable.
“I don’t know,” he said finally. “It’s like—everything hits at once.
Jack exhaled slowly, trying to ease the tightness in his chest. “She shows up after a year,” he said, voice low and frayed. “Out of nowhere. Then she’s hurt… and just a few weeks ago, she drops this song—about me—that I can’t stop hearing, can’t stop thinking about.”
Michael let out a low whistle, eyebrows raised. “So we’re skipping emotional whiplash and going straight for the deluxe package.”
Jack gave the faintest huff of a laugh, but it faded quickly. He rolled his neck, like the tension was anchored in his bones.
Michael glanced over. “I doubt she planned to show up like that. But Jack… she was wearing your hoodie.”
Jack blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
Michael nodded. “The one you gave her when she was discharged. Same one. She’s still wearing it.”
Jack looked down, his mind spinning, replaying the memory in real time. He hadn’t noticed. Hadn’t even realized.
Michael shrugged, his voice calm but pointed. “That doesn’t exactly scream casual to me. You don’t hold on to something like that unless it meant something. And that song—she wouldn’t have written it, wouldn’t have put it out there, if that night didn’t matter to her too.”
Jack stayed quiet, his jaw clenched, eyes still on the skyline.
Michael nudged his arm. “You don’t have to know what it all means right now. It’s okay to feel something when the girl you’ve clearly been carrying around for a year walks back into your life—hurt, no less.”
Jack swallowed hard. “It hasn’t just been a year,” he said. “It’s been every day. I kept that night tucked away—safe in my head, like a memory I wasn’t ready to look at too closely. Half-formed, but mine. And then she drops ‘Eyes on Me’… and suddenly it’s not just mine anymore. It’s out there. Public. Real. It freaked me out. I felt exposed—like everyone could see what I’d been trying to keep buried. It freaked me out, Robby. That’s why I’ve been throwing myself into work. Trying to outrun it. But I couldn’t. I never stopped thinking about her.”
Michael stayed quiet, letting the weight of it settle.
“I thought I imagined it,” Jack said after a pause. “That night. The way she looked at me. The connection. I figured it was adrenaline, or bad timing… or just me wanting something that wasn’t real.” He exhaled, voice low. “I thought what I felt was one-sided. That she’d forget. That it was just one night for her—a blur. A distant memory.”
Michael didn’t hesitate. “It was real.”
Jack didn’t argue.
Michael continued, voice gentler now, “Yeah, she’s young. In the spotlight. Maybe you think she’s out of reach. And yeah, the whole patient-doctor thing? Not exactly textbook. But beyond all that? She’s a woman. And you—you saw her. Not the image, not the celebrity. Her.”
Something in Jack’s shoulders loosened, like something inside him finally gave way.
“She matters to you,” Michael said simply. “That’s all the clarity you need right now.”
He exhaled, then bumped Jack’s arm lightly—brotherly. “So what now? You gonna keep hiding out up here while the girl who wrote a ballad about you sits downstairs wondering if she broke you?”
That earned a faint smile from Jack. His eyes were still tired—but clearer now.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to her.”
“You don’t have to say the right thing,” Michael said. “Just say something, be honest. Be you.”
Jack nodded slowly, pushing off the railing and dragging a hand through his hair.
“All right,” he murmured. “Let’s go.”
Michael didn’t say anything else. He just followed—quietly proud—as Jack moved toward the stairwell door.
—-
They descended the stairs in silence, the clang of their footsteps echoing in the narrow stairwell. Jack’s heart pounded louder with each step, nerves twisting tighter the closer they got to the ER floor.
As they stepped into the hallway, the sterile hospital light felt harsher somehow, more immediate.
Jack’s jaw tight, and walked toward it. His pace slowed at door, hand hovering just for a second before he pushed it aside.
You were sitting up now, ankle wrapped, a clipboard resting on your lap—probably discharge forms. Your hoodie—his hoodie—hung loose around her shoulders. You looked up the moment he stepped in.
Their eyes met. “Hey,” Jack said, voice rougher than he meant.
You smiled softly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey.”
He stepped closer. “How’s the ankle?”
You glanced down. “Apparently just a sprain. My team’s on their way.”
“Are you okay?” You asked, your eyes searching his—wide with concern, not for yourself, but for him.
Jack hesitated, caught off guard by the question. No one ever asked him that—not like this. Not with eyes that actually wanted the truth.
He swallowed hard. “I am now,” he said quietly.
“I shouldn't have left like that.”
You tilted her head, patient but guarded. “Why did you?”
Jack shifted on his feet, throat tight as he struggled to find the right words. He couldn’t quite meet your gaze, his eyes fixed on the floor as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “I… I got overwhelmed. Seeing you again—you—it hit me all at once.” He paused, his breath shaky. “And then everything that happened before—the work, the hours, the doubles. I was already running on empty…”
“I kept it safe,” Jack said after a long pause, his voice rough, cracking at the edges. “That night. You.”
“But it left so much unsaid,” he continued, his voice quieter now, careful, as though afraid speaking too much might shatter the fragile thing between them. “I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t know what we meant.” He let out a shaky breath. “I still don’t.”
His gaze dropped to his hands, flexing restlessly as if trying to work the confusion out of them.
He swallowed hard, then, after a beat, his eyes flickered back to hers—wide open, unguarded.
“I didn’t share it with anyone,” he said, his voice low, almost like a confession. “I won’t talk about it. Not in detail.” He shook his head slightly. “I didn’t want to. It was mine—to figure out. To… to hold onto. To think about.”
A pause hung between them, thick with unspoken words. Then, his voice softer, almost a whisper: “I guess what I’m trying to say is… I don’t know. But there’s something about you—a pull I can’t explain. It’s like I’m drawn to you, and I don’t know why. I just can’t seem to shake it. I feel absolutely crazy for saying that.”
“Maybe we’re both crazy then,” yoy said, your voice quiet but steady, meeting his gaze with a depth that mirrored his own. “But I feel it too. That pull.”
You shifted slightly, as if the weight of your words carried more than just the acknowledgment of what was happening between you two. “And maybe that’s enough for now,” you added softly. “Maybe we don’t need to have all the answers yet.”
Your eyes softened, the moment between them stretching in the silence, filled with the shared understanding that this pull—this connection—was undeniable. “We just have to see where it takes us.”
Jack’s chest tightened at the sincerity in your voice, the way you seemed to offer not just words, but a quiet promise, a space where the unknown wasn’t something to fear. His heart pounded, but this time it felt different—like something inside him was finally starting to settle, even as everything else remained uncertain.
He took a slow breath, letting your words sink in before speaking, his tone softer than before. “Yeah, I guess… maybe we do.”
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it felt like the beginning of something—an unspoken agreement to let the pull lead them, wherever it might go.
—
The two of you sat talking for a while, the conversation stretching easily as the minutes passed. You’d already been discharged, but neither of you moved. The exam room, usually sterile and impersonal, felt strangely intimate now—like a quiet bubble where the outside world couldn’t quite reach.
Jack had completely forgotten he was supposed to be working. His chart lay untouched on the counter behind him, and the hum of hospital noise beyond the door faded into the background. For now, it was just you and him.
You told him that after that night—the night you collapsed on stage—you’d gotten help. That you’d used the resources he gave you. There was a moment of silence when you said it, not heavy, but full. Honest.
Jack’s expression softened, something like relief flashing in his eyes. “I’m glad,” he said quietly. “Really glad. I worried, you know? I didn���t know if you’d take any of it seriously… but I hoped.”
You gave a small smile, nodding. “It took a while. But I did. Therapy, rest, real boundaries… it’s not perfect, but I’m working on it.”
Jack leaned back slightly, pride clear on his face. “You should be proud too. That takes guts. More than most people realize.”
Your eyes met his. “Thanks for planting the seed.”
He smiled, slow and genuine. “All I did was hand you a lifeline. You’re the one who grabbed it.”
Jack’s eyes softened, a slight grin tugging at his lips as he noticed your flushed face.
“Nice hoodie, by the way,” he said, his voice teasing, but there was a warmth behind it.
You blinked, caught off guard by the change in tone. Your face flushed even deeper, and you quickly stumbled over your words. “I can explain—”
He waved you off with a playful smirk. “There’s no need to. I wasn’t gonna ask for it back. It’s yours.” His voice was light, the teasing laced with something genuine, almost as if it was a small offering to bring you both back to a lighter space.
The simple words settled between you are more like a gift than a joke. You looked at him, the hoodie suddenly heavier on your shoulders in the best way.
“I didn’t mean to keep it,” you murmured, fingers brushing the hem.
He shrugged. “Maybe you were supposed to.”
Your fingers curled around the cuff of the sleeve. “I wore it more than I meant to,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “At first it was just… convenient. But then it started to feel like—like something I didn’t want to let go of.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, his smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “So you’ve been walking around wrapped in me this whole time, huh?”
You shot him a look, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.
He chuckled, voice dipping a little lower. “If I’d known that’s all it took to stay on your mind, I might’ve left more than just the hoodie.”
“Oh my god stop” I giggled as you leaned back on the exam bed. Back to the teasing that crept in.
Jack laughed, the sound rich and warm as he stepped a little closer, clearly enjoying himself now. “What? I’m just saying—missed opportunities.”
You shook your head, still smiling, trying to hide your grin behind your hand. “You are so full of yourself.”
He stood hands in his pockets, his eyes dancing. “Maybe. But you’re the one wearing my clothes, so what does that say about you?” He raised an eyebrow.
You shot him a look, but it was useless. He already knew he had you flustered.
Jack tilted his head, smiling. “Didn’t think you’d keep it… but I kinda like that you did.”
You sat up a little, your fingers absentmindedly brushing the sleeve. “Yeah… me too.”
Jack watched you trace the edge of the sleeve, his smile fading into something quieter. “Crazy how a hoodie can mean more than it should.”
You looked up, something gentle in your expression. “It wasn’t just the hoodie.”
He nodded, gaze steady now. “I know.”
Then, the corner of his mouth tugged upward again. “Still… kinda flattering knowing I’ve been hanging off your shoulders all this time.”
You rolled your eyes, laughing as you hugged your arms around yourself. “Don’t make it weird.”
Jack leaned in just a little, his voice dropping to a playful yet intimate tone. “You know, the last time you wore my hoodie, you promised me a private show. And I haven’t forgotten about that.”
You blinked, caught off guard for a second, before shaking your head with a laugh. “Oh my god, you’re really going to bring that up?”
He chuckled, taking a step closer. “Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve got my hoodie and a VIP experience with my name written on it—to a private show. Seems like a fair trade to me.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Well, my ankle’s jacked, so you wouldn’t be getting the full experience.”
Jack’s grin widened, and he took another step closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Hey, I’m not picky. I’ll take whatever I can get,” he said, his voice lowering just a touch, warm and teasing. “A private show, even with a limited experience, sounds pretty good to me.”
You rolled your eyes.
Jack grinned, the sincerity of the moment giving way to something lighter, more familiar. “What? I’m just trying to collect on a long-overdue promise.”
You gave him a playful glare. “You’re impossible.”
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his smirk unapologetic. “And yet, here you are—still talking to me. Wearing my hoodie. Laughing at my jokes.”
You shook your head, a grin tugging at your lips. “You’re lucky I’m injured, or I’d walk right out of here.”
Jack chuckled, eyes twinkling. “Nah, you’d limp dramatically out of here and still look annoyingly cute doing it.”
You groaned, “Someone will wheel me out before he gets any worse.”
Jack playful shrugs. “Too late. I’m already imagining the encore to that private show—hospital edition.”
You threw a pillow at him. “Jack!”
He caught it midair, laughing. “Kidding. Mostly.”
The door burst open and Mac rushed in, eyes wide and frantic. “There you are!” he exclaimed, his gaze bouncing from you to Jack and back again. “Jesus, I’ve been looking everywhere. Are you okay? What happened? Are they releasing you?”
You sat up straighter on the exam bed, caught between amusement and guilt. “I’m fine, Mac. I’ve been discharged. Just… catching up.”
Mac looked at Jack suspiciously, as if assessing whether he needed to physically remove him from the room. “Catching up?”
Jack raised his hands in mock surrender, still holding the pillow you’d thrown. “Strictly professional. Mostly.”
You shot him a look that clearly said not helping.
Mac stepped closer to you, his voice low but laced with frustration and concern. “Are you sure you’re okay? Running from paparazzi in the middle of the day? That’s not a minor hiccup—it’s reckless. What were you thinking, going out alone? Not telling anyone? Not calling us when you got hurt?”
You met his eyes, guilt tightening in your chest. “I know,” you said softly. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just… needed air. I thought I could handle it.”
Jack watched quietly from the side, his arms crossed now, expression unreadable.
Mac exhaled hard, shaking his head. “You scared the hell out of us. We didn’t know where you were. Do you understand how bad this could’ve gone?”
You nodded. “I do. I’m sorry.”
His expression softened slightly, though the worry in his eyes didn’t fade. “You’re not just my client. You’re my responsibility. And you scared the crap out of me.”
“I know,” you repeated. “But I’m okay. I got checked out, I talked to Jack, and… I’ll rest. I’ll lay low for a while. I promise.”
Jack chimed in, his voice quieter now, more grounded. “She’s good, Mac. Vitals look fine. Just needs rest.”
Mac gave a curt nod, still looking tense but starting to breathe again. “Alright. Let’s get you out of here You’ve got an entire team on edge and before someone leaks that you’re in the ER….again”
You stood carefully, your ankle still sore, but manageable. You looked back at Jack, eyes lingering.
Mac guided you gently down the hallway, his hand hovering near your back like he was ready to steady you if needed. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as you neared the ambulance bay. Waiting just beyond the automatic doors, a black SUV idled there, engine humming, windows tinted like armor.
But you weren’t focused on the car. You paused, your steps slowing, then stopping altogether.
Jack had followed at a distance, but now he lingered just inside the ward, not quite ready to cross that final threshold. His gaze met yours—steady, warm, unreadable, like he was memorizing every inch of you in the harsh hospital lighting.
You turned to face him fully, ignoring the tug of Mac’s urgency behind you. For a long second, neither of you said a word.
You turned to Mac, placing a hand gently on his arm. “Mac, give me a minute, please?”
He glanced at you, clearly hesitant, but nodded after a moment. “You sure?”
“I’ll be fine. Just… need to talk to him.” You gave him a reassuring look.
Mac lingered at the entrance of the ambulance bay, casting a long look between you and Jack. His brow furrowed—not just with concern, but as if he was seeing something unspoken settle between you two. Whatever it was, he didn’t quite like it, but he didn’t challenge it either, but he trusted you.
His posture remained rigid, but his eyes softened slightly when they met yours.
“You’ve got five minutes,” Mac said gruffly, his tone edged with protectiveness.
Mac gave one last glance between you two, then turned, heading through the automatic door of the ambulance bay to the SUV. He stood by the SUV, still keeping a careful eye on you from a distance.
Jack shifted on his feet, his expression a mixture of uncertainty and something softer, like he was waiting for you to say something, to give him direction.
“Well… thanks again… for everything,” you said, your voice soft, nearly swallowed by the quiet chaos behind the ER doors.
Jack took a small step forward, the corners of his mouth lifting. “We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this… you know… not making hospitals our thing.”
You laughed under your breath. “I agree. Not exactly the vibe I was going for.”
He glanced down, then back up at you, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Maybe we could… I don’t know, get coffee…dinner…? Or literally anything that doesn’t involve a hospital gown or a sprained ankle?”
You tilted your head, amused. “Was that your smooth way of asking me out?”
He smirked, eyes twinkling. “I don’t know—was it working?”
You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I think it might be.”
Jack’s grin widened, the nerves melting away as he stepped a little closer, his tone light but hopeful. “Good. Because, in all seriousness, I’d really like to see you again—outside of all this”
You tilted your head, considering him for a moment, your tone teasing. “You think you can handle a date without the medical supplies?”
Jack laughed softly, the playfulness in his eyes never fading. “I think I can manage. I’m up for the challenge.”
“Alright”
Before he could say anything else, you reached forward, slipping the pen from the chest pocket of his scrubs with a confidence that made him freeze for half a second. You grabbed the notepad tucked beside it, flipped to a blank page, and scribbled your number down.
Jack watched you, clearly trying—and failing—not to smile like an idiot.
Jack took the note from you, his fingers brushing yours, and stared at it like it was written in gold. He let out a short breath of a laugh, shaking his head. “You really just hijacked my pen and wrote your number like it was nothing.”
You gave him a sly smile. “Used to signing autographs and whatnot—you know, being a pop star and all. I’ve had a lot of practice.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Well, I feel honored. Most people have to stand in line for hours to get one of these.”
You shrugged playfully. “Autographs, sure. My number, though? That’s reserved for special cases.”
Jack’s grin grew, and for a second, he just stood there, holding the paper in his hand like it was something precious.
Before he could say anything, you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, just like the last time. The soft touch lingered for a second longer than expected, a spark of something between you both.
“Bye,” you whispered, your voice low and warm.
He stood there, frozen for a moment, as you walked away, your presence still echoing in the space. Jack finally blinked, his fingers brushing the spot on his cheek where your lips had been, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
A low chuckle came from behind him. “And so the story continues. I don’t know… this feels very reminiscent of last year. I’ve seen this film before. I’m getting serious déjà vu,” he teased.
Jack turned to see Michael standing there with a raised brow and a smug grin, arms folded across his chest like he’d been waiting all day to deliver that line.
Jack rolled his eyes, trying—and failing—not to smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
Michael stepped closer, his grin widening. “So… what happens next?”
Jack gave a half-shrug, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know. We’re just gonna figure it out as we go.”
Michael chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “That’s either really brave or really stupid. But hey, I respect it.”
Jack glanced back toward the automatic door she’d just walked through, his smile fading into something quieter, more thoughtful.
“I think…” he started, then paused, letting the words settle before saying them out loud. “I think some things are worth figuring out.”
Michael arched a brow but didn’t push. Jack didn’t offer anything else.
He just turned back to the hallway, voice low. “One step at a time.”
Then he walked off, leaving Michael shaking his head with a grin, and the story—whatever it was—still unfolding.
tag @cannonindeez @lemonlime09 @blueblizzardreview @samanthadegaro
#dr abbot#dr abbot x reader#dr abbot fic#dr abbot x you#dr abbott#dr abbott x reader#dr abbott x you#jack abbot#jack abbott#jack abbott fanfic#the pitt fanfiction#the pitt x reader#shawn hatosy#the pitt
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Guessing Games: A Fast Car Interlude
Summary: You accidentally trigger Ari's jealous streak. Takes place directly after the events in Guessing Games.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Future Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Ari, Innocent Flirting, Stupid Men, Manhandling, Mentions of Spanking, Discussions of Self-Image, Mentions of Lingerie, Semi-Public Sex, Allusions to Fingering, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: After a shitty week, please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
“Hey. I know this car.” You think as you come to stand in front of a vehicle on display that happens to look strangely familiar. Smoothing your hands down the skirt of your sundress, you manage a quick side-step, narrowly avoiding a collision with a small child who was too busy enjoying his ice cream cone to pay attention to where he was going.
You’ve been wandering around Fulton County’s annual Classic Car Showcase for the better part of an hour now, and so far things were going better than you’d expected. And not only that, but you were even beginning to have fun.
“I can see why this one caught your eye.” A familiar voice muses as he comes up behind you.
“I’m trying to figure out where I’ve seen it before. But I’m drawing a blank.” Angling your body, you reach for one of Ari’s big hands, grasping it with both of yours. “Any ideas?”
“You really don’t recognize it?”
“‘Fraid not.” Your lips purse as you continue to wrack your brain.
“It’s an exact replica of The General Lee, the 1969 Dodge Charger driven by Bo and Luke.”
“Who?” You stare up at him confused.
That earns you a chuckle, followed by him placing a gentle kiss atop your head. “Bo and Luke. From The Dukes of Hazzard. It was a popular show back in the eighties.” He explains, brushing a stray curl away from your face.
“Oh. Got it.” You nod, pretending to understand. “Mystery solved.”
You both stand there a few moments longer – mostly so he can admire the engine, or whatever the hell you assumed he was doing. Once he’s looked his fill, it’s apparently time to move on to the next car that catches his interest. You’re seemingly content to trail behind him until you happen to spot a nearby cluster of tents.
“Ari?”
“Yeah, little Bird?” The rich timbre of his voice has you smiling before you even realize you’re doing it.
“I reckon all this car hoppin’ has me feelin’ a little parched.” You tell him, turning your attention to the concessions located just across the lot. “I’m gonna go fetch myself a lemonade real quick while the lines are short.”
As expected, your man responds without missing a beat. But not before leading you over to the shade so that you can continue your conversation. Which was a good thing seeing as the temperature outside was hovering around the mid-eighties.
“Well, we can’t have that now can we?” Mirroring your smile, he brings your hand to his lips so that he can kiss the ridges of your knuckles. “Let’s go get you somethin’ to drink.”
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll go while you hang out here in the shade.” Your palms come up to rest against the hard wall of his chest. “Besides,” you continue when he opens his mouth to object. “It’s not like I’m going far. I’ll just be right over there.”
“Nah.” Ari swiftly disagrees, adjusting his sunglasses. “How about you wait here while I go get us both something to drink?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep.” He gently flicks the tip of your nose. “After all, what kinda man would I be if I left my sweetheart out here to melt?”
“I mean…if you insist.” Rising on your toes – a feat made easier thanks to your wedge heels – you plant a smooch on his bearded cheek. “Hurry back, sugar.”
Now that he’s officially a man on a mission, Ari wastes almost no time making a beeline for the concessions. But not before issuing a stern warning to you, his curious little Bird.
“Don’t you go wanderin’ off on me, darlin’.” He growls, leaning down to tenderly peck your lips . “I expect to find you right here in this spot when I come back.”
And then he’s gone. You barely have time to respond with a playful salute before he’s striding off in search of sustenance for you both. Leaving you alone to twiddle your thumbs while you dutifully await his return.
Not that you minded. If anything, grateful for this brief respite from the heat. It never crosses your mind to abandon your spot in favor of looking at more cars. At least, not until you spy one that has you gasping in pure delight.
“Woah.” You breathe as you come to stand in front of the one vehicle with the power to transport you straight back to your childhood: a 1958 Plymouth Fury.
Better known as the car from Stephen King’s novel, Christine.
You’d absolutely loved this movie as a kid. So much so that your Uncle had bought you your own personal copy after he got tired of renting it for you weekend after weekend. Why, you must’ve seen it over a hundred times.
But as luck would have it, your private glee is interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up behind you.
“She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” The man asks, his southern drawl growing even more inviting when he tips his black stetson. “Restored her myself.”
“Holy crap! It looks just like the one from the film.” You chirp, reaching out to run your fingers along the shiny finish before swiftly thinking better of it. “Sorry.” Is all you can manage as you turn to face him. “I just…never thought I’d get the chance to see it in person.”
“Well…” The dark haired cowboy admits, flashing a chagrined smile. “It’s not actually the car. But it’s pretty dang close. Took me a few years, seeing that pretty smile of yours makes it all worth it.” His smile only grows wider as he holds out his hand to you. “The name’s Russell, by the way.”
You two spend a few more moments exchanging names and pleasantries before he politely redirects the attention back to the prized vehicle in front of you. Russell invites you to ask all the questions you like, only to laugh when you eagerly take him up on his offer.
In fact, you’re enjoying the conversation so much that you hardly notice when he slowly begins inching closer to you, his leanly muscled frame almost boxing you in. He was charming – you’d give him that much. And easy on the eyes.
Russell was the type of man who warranted a second look. Or at least he would. That is, assuming you hadn’t already been blessed with the gift of Ari Daniel Levinson.
“You know,” He murmurs, his cool gaze warming as he boldly peruses your dress. “Something tells me this conversation would pair wonderfully with a glass of wine.” His hand reaches for yours once more. “Perhaps over dinner?”
“Oh, I’m sorry...” The shocked apology comes tumbling out of your mouth. “I–I can’t. I actually came with someone. He’s–”
“Look, I don’t wanna be too forward.” Russell smoothly interrupts, stroking his thumb along the ridge of your knuckles. “But I haven’t been able to let you out of my sight since I saw you damn near an hour ago. Honestly can’t remember the last time I came across a woman as sweet as you.”
“That’s awfully kind of you to say.” You reply, intending to let him down easy.
“I saw that fella you were with.” He continues in earnest, still refusing to relinquish his grip on your hand. “Also saw him walk off and abandon you too.”
“He didn’t – no one abandoned anybody!” Closing your eyes, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. You weren’t used to men hitting on you like this. It has you feeling way out of your depth.
“Be that as it may, I also believe in fate.” His already gravelly voice dips an octave. “I mean, I’ve come to this showcase year after year and never once have I met someone like you.”
“I…I’m not sure I’d go that far.” You hedge as you weigh your options.
On one hand, you really did want to be polite. But you also needed to be firm. You already had a man in your life. A man who owned you – mind, body, and soul. Not that you’d had any say in the matter. But these days, you were well past complaining about the handsome Beast of a man you’d come to cherish.
“Think about it.” Your would-be suitor implores, giving you a gentle squeeze. “There has to be a reason our paths crossed today.”
Alright. It was officially time to put a nail in this coffin. You open your mouth to respond, only to have someone else beat you to the punch.
“I think it’s about time you let go of her hand.” Ari rumbles, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Now.”
“Something I can help you with, buddy?” Russell responds without hesitation, clearly annoyed by the other man’s sudden reappearance. “Because the lady and I were in the middle of a conversation.”
“And I’m sure it was a great one.” Your bounty hunter is too busy glaring at his apparent rival to pay you any real mind. Although, he’s quick to shove a cup of what you suspect to be lemonade into your palm the second Russell releases his hold. “Too bad it’s over now. Let’s go, sweet Bird.”
The ice in his tone is enough to make you shiver. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ari was none too happy to find you entertaining the company of another man. But the last thing you’d expected was for him to be jealous.
Unless you were reading things wrong.
“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait, fella.” Russell surprises everyone by coming to stand almost nose-to-nose with Ari. “Because she and I were about to take the ride out for a little spin.”
“We most certainly were not.” You try, impatiently tugging on his arm. “Ari, let’s just go.” Although, you’re not surprised when you end up being completely ignored.
“Oh yeah?”
“Guess that’s what happens when you abandon a pretty little flower like her all alone in an empty field.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Russelly makes a point of poking your man in his chest. “I’m just glad I was lucky enough to be here to catch your mistake.”
Worry fills you when you see Ari simply nod along, his brawny shoulders wrought with tension. Sucking on his teeth, the bounty hunter briefly looks away as he forces himself to take a calming breath. Not that it seems to help any.
“You know what? I get it. No, really–I do.” Ari smirks, reaching up to lightly scratch at his jaw. “I knew what I was getting into, walking into a showcase like this with a beautiful woman on my arm, wearin’ the hell out of that dress.” One thick arm wraps itself around your waist, hauling you close. “My girl turns heads everywhere she goes. She’s just too sweet to realize it.”
Tucking you behind him, your man bridges the last bit of distance between himself and Russell. And while you can’t see his face, you’re shocked when he gently lifts his rival’s hat from his head, before tossing it in the direction of his forgotten plymouth.
“And sometimes that sweetness makes cowboys do stupid fuckin’ things.” Ari continues, sounding almost smug. But you don’t miss the danger in his tone. “Which is why I’m gonna be the bigger man right now and walk away, before I give into the urge to find out if you have what it takes to make the long drive home with a fractured arm.”
“Alright, that’s enough from you two.” You snap, finally fed up with all this male posturing. After all this nonsense, you just wanted to sit down and enjoy your drink before all the ice melted. “Russell, cool car. But I’m not interested, okay? And as for you, Ari…”
In lieu of responding, your man chooses to quirk one impatient, tawny brow.
“You’re looking a little flushed. I think it’s time we got you outta the sun.” Grabbing his wrist, you proceed to physically drag him away from the scene. It takes virtually all your might, but you’re grateful when his legs finally begin to move.
You don’t stop walking until you reach a set of picnic tables that are far enough away from the show to give you both some much needed privacy while you hashed things out.
“Darlin’, I can tell by your face you’re fixin’ to yell.” Ari growls, yanking his arm out of your grasp. "And I'd like to make my case before you start." His frown only deepens as he watches you perch on the edge of a bench, but not before taking a dramatic sip of your ice cold lemonade.
It tastes divine – the perfect treat for a hot summer’s day.
“Did you really have to throw the poor man’s hat?” You ask, fanning yourself.
“Probably not. But it felt good.” He shrugs, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Should’ve stuffed his ass in the goddamned trunk while I was at it.”
“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was in the process of letting him down easy.”
“Could’ve sworn I told your bratty self to stay put where I fuckin’ left you.” His normally clear blue eyes glitter dangerously, letting you know that he’s pissed. “I mean, it was bad enough waitin’ in line listening to two idiots talk about which one of ‘em was gonna be brave enough to ask for your number…”
“Yeah right.” You scoff, looking up at the sky as you pray for patience.
“Roll ‘em at me one more time, baby. Swear to God.” Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what the hell he’d been thinking bringing you to something like this with you wearing a dress like that. “I’m just itchin’ for a reason to lift that skirt and redden your disrespectful ass.”
In Ari’s mind, you were always the prettiest girl in the room. But on a day like today? You were downright irresistible. And what made it even worse is that you honestly had no idea the effect you had sometimes – on him and damn near every other man who came into your presence.
“You can’t talk like that!” You hiss, hoping that you weren’t being overheard.
“And just why the hell not?”
“Because we’re in public, you Beast!”
Rising to your feet, you set your drink on the table, deciding it might be better if you put some distance between you. Too bad Ari chooses to follow, walking you backwards until you feel yourself collide with the base of a nearby tree. His hands come to rest on either side of your head, effectively caging you in with his much larger frame.
“I should’ve known what I was getting into the moment I decided to let you walk outta the house wearing that dress.” Ari rasps, trailing his nose along the delicate column of your throat. “I thought I was safe, even with that lacey little scrap of nothin’ you’ve got hidin’ underneath.”
You barely manage to stifle a moan when your man captures your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. One of his hands leaves its purchase to settle dangerously low on your hip.
“But I see now that’s not enough for you, is it baby?” You press your thighs together when that same hand moves once again. This time working it’s way under your skirt - his short, blunt nails dancing along your skin as his mouth hovers a mere centimeter above yours. “I’m not sure why you thought it might be a good idea to tease me like this. Not too keen on you flirting with other men.”
“I promise I wasn’t.” Your eyes flutter closed as he grinds his growing erection against the softness of your belly. “I just got excited about the car. It’s from one of my favorite Stephen King stories.”
“Is that why I found you two holdin’ hands?” You let out a whimper when you feel the roughened pads of his fingers dig into your heated flesh, making you squirm. “Because you were excited?”
It wasn’t often that your man got riled up like this. But when he did there was almost no getting through to him until he calmed down. If you were lucky, you could typically drag him to some place quiet, away from prying eyes and listening ears.
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, sugar.” Leaning up, you press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I suppose I wouldn’t like it either if I saw you holding hands with a random woman. Promise it won’t happen again.” You add, weaving your arms around his trim waist after all you receive is a grunt for your trouble.
Although you can’t help but notice that some of the tension seems to have finally left his shoulders.
“Thank you.”
Ari allows his forehead to rest against your own as he struggles to collect himself. Wanting more, you cup his face with your hands, bring his mouth down for a much needed kiss. His eager tongue dances with yours, demanding more of your submission as the passion builds.
You’re both breathing hard when you finally come up for air. However, you realize your man’s not done. At least not yet.
“You’re enough to drive a man insane. You know that?” He groans in between soft, yet feral kisses. “I swear I try to be progressive – I do. I got sisters. A niece.” A sound almost like a purr rumbles in his chest as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck. “But I’m also man enough to admit I’ve got a bit of a jealous streak. Never was much of a problem until I met you.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You murmur at the same time as your pussy spasms, dampening your panties with your slick.
“Good.” Ari lifts your leg, hitching it around his waist and not giving a damn about who sees. “And Bird?”
“Uh huh?” A shiver courses through you as he begins covering your exposed flesh with tiny, possessive love bites. This time you make no move to stop him. Thank goodness you’d had the foresight to pack some concealer.
“I hate to break it to you.” His mouth finds yours once more, deliberately teasing you with each sensual stroke and flick of his tongue. “But you and me, we’re not gonna make it back to Bell’s Creek tonight.”
“And w–why is that?” Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as his fingers find your clit, toying with the swollen nub through the soaked fabric of your panties.
“Because I’m having the damnedest time trying to talk myself out of fucking you hard and fast on the hood of my truck.” He responds with an unapologetic shrug. “But I suppose I’ll just have to settle for a hotel, huh?” Grinning, he increases the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, loving the way you buck and writhe beneath his touch.
“I’ll start hunting for reservations.” You move to reach for your phone even as you feel your vision blur and your toe s curl. “But whatever you do…oh God…just please don’t stop.”’
END
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Grumpy & the New Girl: Part 9
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Masterlist
Bucky x reader
Summary: She wasn’t supposed to meet him like that. He wasn’t supposed to let her in. But sometimes, things don’t go according to plan.
Word Count: 6090
I'm sorry in advance...
The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Bucky’s alarm cutting through the silence. You took a deep breath and sighed as your eyes fluttered open, Bucky right behind you with his arms wrapped around you.
You could feel him – all of him – pressed up against you.
You froze for a split second when your brain registered what it was. But Bucky either didn’t notice or didn’t care, he just groaned and pulled you closer to his chest.
A few moments later, you finally turned around to face him. “Can you turn that off?” you groaned. “I think that’s the most annoying alarm I’ve ever heard in my life.”
“I do that so I’ll actually have motivation to turn it off,” he said, finally letting go of you to turn it off.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, settling back into the pillow.
“Nope,” Bucky said, pushing the blanket off both of you. “If I’m late for training and you’re late for physical therapy, we’ll never hear the end of it.”
You just scoffed. “No matter what we do we’ll never hear the end of it,” you said, giving him a look.
He just laughed softly as he got up from the bed. He took a step, but then stopped, stretching his hands above his head and yawning.
His shirt lifted up enough for you to see the bottom half of his abs.
And the bulge in his sweatpants from what was pressing against you this morning.
You looked away quickly before he was done stretching so he didn’t catch you staring.
“C’mon,” he said.
You tried to shake the thought, groaning again as you pulled yourself up. You swung your legs over the side of the bed, just sitting there for a few minutes as Bucky started digging through his dresser and opened the closet, pulling out his clothes for the day.
You finally stood up, wincing as you put pressure on your ankle again.
“Make sure you ice it after PT,” he said, giving you a look.
“I will, I will,” you replied, waving him off. You walked over to the door, but turned around before you left. “See you downstairs?”
He just gave you a slight smile. “Yeah.”
His smile went away right after as he turned around and disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.
Your eyebrows knit together immediately, confused about what just happened. He seemed fine at first, but something about his smile not quite being genuine just seemed…off.
You weren’t sure what it was, but you could tell something was wrong.
You thought about going over and knocking on the bathroom door, asking if everything was okay, but decided against it.
You made your way back to your room, not being able to shake the weird feeling.
You went to the bathroom, brushed your teeth, pulled your hair into a ponytail, then changed into your favorite workout set – leggings and a matching sports bra in your favorite color.
You grabbed Bucky’s sweatshirt that you still had, pulling it over your head as you walked out the door and headed to the kitchen.
You assumed Bucky would already be there, probably with a mug of coffee waiting for you, but when you walked in, he wasn’t there.
You paused for a split second, wondering if you should go check on him, but then continued to the coffee machine.
“Wow, didn’t walk in with your boyfriend today?” Sam said, smirking at you.
“Nope,” you responded as you reached up to the top shelf grabbing two mugs.
“Well that’s new,” Tony chimed in. “Where is he? Recovering from your pre-training cardio sesh?”
You just shot him a look. “No, just getting ready.”
Clint just hummed. “And you would know that why?”
You just sighed and shook your head.
“They obviously spent the night together again,” Sam said, sounding disgusted.
“They might as well just move all their stuff into one room and declare themselves roommates,” Nat said, smirking.
You just laughed softly as you poured two cups of coffee, trying not to show any sign that anything was wrong.
You hated to admit it, but you were worried.
Probably – hopefully – for nothing. But you couldn’t help it.
You walked over to the island and sat down in a chair, setting Bucky’s coffee in front of the space next to you.
As soon as you set the mugs down, Clint glanced at the second one.
“Two cups?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Look at her, making her man coffee now that her ankle’s better.”
“Guess she’s finally contributing to the relationship,” Sam added with a smirk.
You let out a quiet laugh, forcing it just enough to sound natural, hiding the way your chest felt tighter than it should’ve. You picked up your own mug and took a sip, focusing on the warmth instead of the twist in your stomach.
It was probably nothing. Maybe he was just tired. But still, something about the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes this morning lingered at the back of your mind.
“Careful,” Nat teased from across the island, elbowing Wanda as she slid the eggs back into the fridge. “She starts making coffee, next thing you know she’s packing his lunches and embroidering his initials on towels.”
You rolled your eyes, managing a smile as you looked up. “Okay, I’m not that far gone.”
Everyone laughed, and you relaxed just enough to let yourself laugh with them.
But then, your eyes flicked across the room and met Wanda’s.
She wasn’t laughing.
She was watching you, brow slightly furrowed, head tilted just enough to say she was already reading you like a book. You held her gaze for a moment too long, and something shifted in her expression. Not teasing – concern.
You quickly looked away, bringing your mug to your lips again like it could shield you.
Wanda didn’t say anything.
But she didn’t need to.
You both knew something was off. And even if no one else noticed, she did.
You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, eyes flicking toward the hallway, half-hoping Bucky would come around the corner with that usual sleepy grin to reassure you that everything was fine.
But he didn’t.
Not until a few, long minutes later.
The room didn’t react much at first. No teasing, no fanfare, he just looked like himself, more or less.
He didn’t even glance in your direction as he walked straight to the coffee machine.
“I already got your coffee,” you said softly, nodding toward the untouched mug in front of the seat beside you.
He paused just briefly, then looked down at it. “Oh…thanks.”
His voice was quiet. Rougher than usual.
He walked over, picked it up, and sat down next to you – not even looking your way.
The stool creaked slightly as he settled in, the silence stretching out just a little too long.
And then, of course, the others pounced.
“Barnes, you’re getting your coffee made for you now,” Sam said, raising his eyebrows dramatically. “How does it feel living like a spoiled man?”
Nat leaned against the counter, biting into a piece of toast. “She spends the night, makes you coffee in the morning – what’s next, back rubs on mission breaks?”
“Bet she packs his snacks,” Clint added. “Little love notes on his protein bars.”
Bucky gave them a small, dry smile – just enough to pass for amusement. “You’re all hilarious.”
“We know,” Tony said, smirking.
Bucky gave a quiet huff, not quite a laugh, and took a sip of his coffee.
But he still hadn’t looked at you.
You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. He was holding his mug with both hands with his elbows resting on the counter, head down like he was trying to hide. His shoulders were drawn in slightly and his jaw was tight.
And you knew.
Something was wrong.
You glanced across the kitchen and looked at Wanda. She was already watching him with the same look of concern she’d given you earlier.
Her brows were just barely furrowed, lips pressed into a subtle line as her eyes followed the way Bucky was avoiding eye contact, not offering up his usual quiet one-liners or easy comebacks.
She looked back over at you, and you quickly dropped your gaze, sipping your coffee again like everything was normal.
The teasing died off after another minute or two, and the rest of the conversation shifted to something else. The others laughed, throwing jabs back and forth, filling the kitchen with the usual chaos.
But you and Bucky sat in silence.
You kept glancing over at him, but he never looked up.
The kitchen had settled into a lull, the conversation trailing off into scattered chatter and clinking dishes when Steve finally stepped in, glancing at the clock on the wall.
“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands once. “Time to get moving. Training starts in ten.”
There were a few groans, but the sounds of chairs scraping back and footsteps filled the kitchen as the team started filing out one by one.
Bucky didn’t say anything.
He just stood, his stool sliding quietly against the floor as he picked up his half-full mug. He walked around the island without a word, dumped the rest of the coffee down the drain, and gave the mug a quick rinse.
You watched him as he moved, noticing he was a little too quiet.
He glanced at you just before he turned to go. “Good luck in PT.”
His voice was calm, even. But the smile he gave you wasn’t real – it was that same faint smile from earlier that didn’t touch his eyes.
“Thanks,” you said softly, but he was already turning.
He followed the others out of the kitchen, falling into step behind Sam and Tony like he hadn’t just left a pit in your stomach.
You watched the doorway long after he disappeared through it.
A moment later, Steve hung back, stepping over to where you still sat.
“You ready?” he asked, his voice gentler than usual. “We’ve got a room set up off the training space. I’ll walk you through the first set of exercises, then let you work through them.”
You blinked, pulled from your thoughts. “Yeah. Okay.”
You stood slowly, grabbing your water bottle and following him out. Steve walked beside you, talking quietly about what to expect, but you barely heard him.
Because even as you nodded along and did your best to listen, your mind stayed stuck on the way Bucky hadn’t really looked at you this morning.
You knew that something was wrong, but you had no idea what it was.
--
As Bucky walked into the training room, he paused for a brief second, squeezing his eyes shut.
The lights in the training room were too bright. Too sharp.
He blinked against them as he walked in, shoulders tense, eyes narrowing slightly as the sting behind his eyes flared again – not blinding yet, but enough to make the world feel a little off-balance. A little too loud. A little too much.
He rolled his shoulders, forced a deep breath, and tried to shake it off.
Just focus. Get through it.
But it had started the second he woke up – that familiar, dull ache humming behind his eyes. Not a full migraine, not yet. Just the warning.
And he’d known, instantly, what kind of day it would be.
Even with her still curled against him, warm and safe in his arms, he felt it building.
He’d stayed there longer than he should’ve. Eyes closed. Breathing slow. Pretending the pressure in his head wasn’t growing by the minute. Pretending the weight of her against his chest could keep it at bay.
But it hadn’t.
And once she left the room, it hit sharper.
He’d stood at the bathroom sink, splashing cold water on his face, gripping the edge with both hands as the ache pressed behind his eyes like a growing storm. He took a couple pain pills from the bottle in the cabinet, swallowing them dry.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, just breathing, before finally forcing himself to get dressed and head downstairs.
He didn’t even realize how quiet he’d been when he walked into the kitchen. Didn’t notice the way he avoided looking at her. Didn’t register that when she made him his coffee, he barely even thanked her.
It wasn’t because of her. God, it was never because of her.
He just…couldn’t focus. Couldn’t think about anything but keeping it together long enough to get through training. Long enough to stay upright.
So he smiled. He laughed when they teased him. Gave them just enough to let it pass.
He didn’t notice the way she kept glancing at him.
Didn’t realize his silence was different.
Didn’t know she’d seen right through it.
He just kept walking toward the weights, jaw tight, fingers flexing like he could squeeze the pain out of his system before it really took hold.
Just get through it.
--
As you went through your exercises, you kept trying to convince yourself that nothing was wrong.
Maybe he was just tired and didn’t realize how he was acting. You were sure there had to be an explanation.
But when you finished and headed out to the training room to find Steve, Bucky was already gone.
You tried to ignore the lump forming in your throat.
You had expected him to at least come check on you at some point. Not that he had to, but you just assumed he would.
You were debating whether or not to just go straight to his room to try to find him, but before you could make a move, Steve called you over.
“You all done?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Great, how does it feel?”
“Sore,” you said, looking down at your ankle.
“Well, that’s normal,” he said. “And unfortunately it’ll probably be worse later from the PT, but that’s good.”
You just nodded.
“Follow me,” he said, motioning you over to the medical room off the training floor.
When you walked in, he had you sit on a chair.
“Instead of just putting an ice pack on it, I want you to do an ice bucket,” he said, grabbing a bucket from the corner and starting to fill it with water. “That way, it can get your whole ankle instead of just one side.”
“Okay,” you said.
“I would try to stay off your ankle as much as you can today, just to let it rest,” he said, scooping ice from the ice machine into the bucket. “Don’t use your crutches, but limit your walking.”
“Okay,” you said, again.
“I’m sure Bucky will help you though,” he responded, giving you a knowing smile.
You just smiled back.
But then, you realized, Steve might know what’s going on. He’s known Bucky his whole life, so he’s definitely gotten like this before, and he might know what’s wrong.
But as you opened your mouth to ask him, his ringtone cut through the silence.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket to look at the screen.
“Oh, sorry, I have to take this. It’s about our next mission.”
He set the bucket down in front of you. “Wait a couple minutes to let the water get colder, then leave your ankle in for about 10 minutes,” he said, walking toward the door. “Just dump it in the sink when you’re done.”
He gave you one last smile before disappearing out the door.
You sat there in the chair, eyes trained on the wall, mind going a million miles a minute.
You waited a couple minutes, like he said, and then carefully slid your foot into the bucket.
You hissed through your teeth at the sting, the sharp cold surrounding your ankle. But it helped.
You tried to focus on that.
Not the fact that Bucky hadn’t come to check on you.
Not the weird tightness in his jaw or the way his eyes avoided yours at the table.
You stared down at the ice water, arms crossed over your chest, chewing on your bottom lip as your mind started spiraling again.
Maybe he was tired.
Maybe he was overwhelmed.
Maybe it had nothing to do with you at all.
Or maybe…something was wrong and he just wasn’t telling you.
He could be hurting. Pulling away. Regretting the closeness you’d fallen into so easily.
Maybe last night had meant more to you than it had to him.
You swallowed hard, pressing your arms tighter around yourself.
But that wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. It didn’t feel like that. Not last night. Not when he helped you into bed like it was instinct. Not when he kissed your forehead like you were the most precious thing in the world.
You knew him.
He didn’t fake that.
Which only made this morning more confusing.
Your gaze drifted to the door again, tempted to get up right then and there, half-limp across the compound if you had to, find him, ask him what’s wrong.
But the bucket of ice water was anchoring you in place. And maybe, deep down, you were scared of what you’d hear.
Your jaw clenched as you exhaled through your nose and looked down again.
The pain in your ankle was sharp, but the ache in your chest was worse.
And no matter how many reasons you tried to come up with…none of them were good enough to explain why he suddenly felt so far away.
--
After 10 minutes, you pulled your ankle out of the bucket and set it on a towel you grabbed from the shelf. You slowly wrapped it around your ankle, patting it dry.
After getting up and dumping out the bucket, you grabbed Bucky’s sweatshirt that you had taken off and your sock and shoe off the counter. You didn't bother to put them on as you headed out of the training room toward the elevator.
When you got in, your hand paused in front of the keypad.
You wondered whether or not you should stop at his room. See if he’s okay. Ask what’s wrong.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You pressed the 8 and leaned back against the wall as the elevator doors slid shut.
You made your way to your room, stepping out of your other shoe and pulling off your sweaty clothes before jumping in the shower.
You just stood under the hot water, letting it run over your shoulders and down your back. Steam curled up around you, letting you relax a little bit, but not much.
You finally grabbed the shampoo, squeezing some into your palm and lathering it into your hair. You tried to distract yourself from your thoughts, but it wasn’t working very well.
A few minutes later, you turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and dried yourself off. You pulled on shorts and Bucky’s sweatshirt again before heading down to the kitchen for lunch.
When you walked in, everyone was there.
Except Bucky.
You finally stepped in, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach.
There was a spread of ingredients lined the counter – a lineup of lunch meats, cheeses, and every kind of topping imaginable. There were fresh buns stacked on a plate, along with bowls of fruit, veggie sticks, chips, and a few dips scattered around.
Everyone was gathered around the island, making their sandwiches and stealing bites as they went, like a little lunch assembly line.
You grabbed a plate from the stack and reached for a bun, trying to act normal.
“Again?” Sam said, the second he spotted you. “This is the second time today you’re not attached at the hip.”
You glanced over and rolled your eyes. “I know. Tragic.”
“Uh-huh,” Clint chimed in, holding up a tomato slice. “You guys have been joined at the soul since you met. Now suddenly you’re flying solo? Suspicious.”
“She probably made him another coffee and is letting him nap in her room,” Nat said, smirking over her shoulder. “Or maybe she gave him a massage after training.”
You gave a small laugh, just enough to play along, putting meat onto your bun.
“Seriously though,” Wanda added, glancing up as she loaded her own plate. “He’s not coming?”
You shrugged, forcing a casual tone. “I don’t know. Maybe he already ate. Or maybe he’s resting.”
“Or maybe he’s just lying in bed pining for her,” Tony said dramatically. “Clutching a photo. Whispering her name.”
You snorted, reaching for a handful of chips. “You people are unwell.”
Sam raised a brow. “You’re deflecting.”
“I’m eating,” you countered, grabbing a few grapes from the fruit bowl and dropping them onto your plate. “Big difference.”
They kept teasing, but the energy was light. No one noticed the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. No one caught the way your shoulders dropped just a little as you turned toward the fridge to grab a drink.
But as you moved past Wanda, she looked up again, eyes flicking over you carefully.
And for a moment, you could feel her watching.
Just like this morning.
Again…she didn’t say anything.
You didn’t either.
You just turned and headed to the table to sit down, eating your sandwich and laughing when they made another joke, acting like everything was fine.
You expected Bucky to eventually show up to eat.
But he never did.
--
When you finally finished eating, some of the others were already heading out of the kitchen. You got up and headed to the sink, turning on the water before running your plate under it.
A few moments later, Wanda walked up beside you.
“Everything okay?” she asked, only loud enough for you to hear.
You kept your eyes on the plate in your hands, scrubbing slowly even though it was already clean.
“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Everything’s fine.”
Wanda didn’t say anything at first.
She just looked at you.
And you could feel it – that knowing, quiet gaze of hers, the kind that made it impossible to lie for long. Like she could see right through you.
You sighed and shut off the water, setting the plate on the drying rack. “He was just…acting off this morning. I have no clue what’s going on.”
Wanda leaned her hip against the counter, folding her arms loosely. “I noticed, too.”
You turned to face her, biting your lip. “You did?”
She nodded. “He barely said two words at breakfast. Didn’t even look at you.”
Your heart gave that little ache again, the one you’d been trying to ignore all day.
“Did something happen between you two last night,” she asked, quietly.
“No,” you responded. “We watched a movie, fell asleep like usual. Everything was normal.”
Wanda’s brows furrowed slightly. “And then this morning?”
You looked down at the edge of the sink. “This morning he was quiet. Still sweet, still…him, kind of. But distant. Like something was on his mind. And when we got to the kitchen, it was like I wasn’t even there.”
Wanda’s voice stayed soft. “You don’t think he’s pulling away?”
You shook your head. “No. I mean, maybe? I don’t know. That’s what’s driving me crazy. I just…I don’t get it. It felt like we were on the same page, and now it feels like he’s a thousand miles away.”
Wanda stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes scanning your face.
“Then something’s bothering him,” she said finally. “And I don’t think it’s you.”
You met her eyes, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t let yourself be all day.
“You really think so?”
“I know so,” she said, gently touching your arm. “You’d know if he was trying to pull away. That’s not what this is.”
You nodded slowly, holding onto her words like a lifeline.
“Okay,” you said, quietly.
Still, your stomach turned.
Because if it wasn’t you...then what was it?
Wanda gave you a soft pat on the back before walking away. You grabbed the dish towel and dried your hands before walking out of the kitchen.
You made your way to the elevator and pressed the 7 before you could stop yourself.
As you made your way down the hall, it was quiet. You stopped in front of his door, standing there for a few minutes before finally knocking.
Nothing.
You didn’t hear any movement inside the room. You didn’t even know if he was in there.
“Bucky?”
Still nothing.
You sighed, not knowing whether or not you should just walk in. But you needed to know if he was okay.
You grabbed the door handle, turning it slowly and taking a step inside.
You were met with complete darkness. The shades were closed and curtains were drawn. They had to have been heavy-duty blackout curtains, because there was no light slipping through at all.
When your eyes finally adjusted, you spotted Bucky, curled up in a ball on his bed.
Your heart tugged at the sight.
You softly shut the door behind you, thinking he was asleep. But when you walked over to the bed, you saw his eyes slowly open.
“Bucky?” you said, softly. “What’s wrong?”
You stood over his bed for a few moments, him not saying anything.
But finally, he spoke, voice barely above a whisper.
“Migraine.”
Your heart broke at the sound of his voice. So weak and fragile, like he was about to fall apart at any moment.
You slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear and letting your hand rest there, thumb softly rubbing circles over his temple.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” you whispered.
Again, he was silent for a few moments. Then–
“Stay.”
Your heart broke even more, wanting to cry from how much pain he sounded like he was in.
You quietly got up, slipping underneath the covers with him. You put your arms around him as he pulled you closer, burying his face in your chest immediately.
His breath was shaky and uneven against your chest, and you could feel the tension radiating through every part of him.
You lifted your hand and let your fingers trail up into his hair. You began running them through it slowly – soft, soothing strokes. Over and over.
You felt him exhale, just barely, the tiniest bit of release.
“I’ve got you,” you whispered, your lips brushing the top of his head.
Your heart ached with every breath he took, every slight tremble in his body as he tried to ride it out. But at the same time, you felt an unexpected sense of relief wash over you.
Not because he was in pain.
But because you knew now.
He wasn’t pulling away. He wasn’t angry or distant because of anything you did. He was just suffering, quietly – the way he always had, for so long.
And now…he let you in.
You kept combing your fingers gently through his hair, occasionally rubbing slow circles into the back of his neck.
The room was silent except for the sound of your shared breathing – the occasional shuddered inhale or ragged exhale from him.
You pressed a kiss to his hair, letting your lips rest there for a moment.
You stayed like that for a long time, gently running your fingers through his hair, your other arm wrapped securely around his back. His breathing stayed shallow, his body tense, but little by little, you could feel it begin to ease – not completely, but enough to know the worst of the pain was starting to let go.
Eventually, his breathing evened out.
His grip on your shirt loosened ever so slightly.
And with one last soft sigh against your chest…he fell asleep.
You didn’t move.
You just laid there, staring up at the ceiling in the dark, the faint rise and fall of his chest against yours grounding you.
And finally, with your hand still tangled in his hair and your other arm still holding him tight, your own eyes began to drift shut.
--
You didn’t know how long you were out.
But when you blinked awake, the room was still dark, the air still thick with quiet.
And Bucky was still in your arms.
Still curled into you, his head resting against your collarbone, one arm draped across your waist. You could feel the steady beat of his heart, calm now, his body no longer trembling with pain.
You didn’t move, just looked down at him, brushing your fingers gently through his hair again.
After a couple minutes, he stirred.
He shifted slightly, then stilled again – like he wasn’t sure where he was. Then his head lifted just a little, eyes fluttering open.
And when his gaze met yours…there was a flicker of something in them.
Surprise.
Maybe even disbelief.
His voice was soft. Weak. Still rough from hours of silent pain.
But it went straight through your chest like a blade.
“You’re still here.”
Your heart broke all over again.
Your arms tightened around him slightly as your throat caught.
“Of course I’m still here.”
His expression wavered – just a little – like your words cracked something open inside him.
He took a little breath and sighed, letting his head slowly rest against your chest again.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered.
Bucky didn’t answer right away.
He just lay there against you for a few more minutes, breathing slow and steady, your hand still gently tracing through his hair. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. You just held him.
Eventually, he shifted – slowly, like he wasn’t quite ready to leave the safety of your arms, but knew he had to move.
He sat up just enough to lean on one elbow, the other hand coming up to rub his eyes, fingers dragging down his face as he exhaled quietly.
You pushed yourself up a little, still close, watching him carefully.
“How are you?” you asked, voice soft.
“Better,” he rasped, his voice still raw around the edges as he blinked a few times and ran his hand over his face again. “Head’s not pounding anymore. Just…foggy.”
You gave a small, relieved nod. “That’s good.”
He looked over at you then, eyes heavy but clearer than before. “How long was I out?”
“Couple hours, maybe,” you said. “You needed it.”
He nodded slowly, then glanced down, like part of him was still processing the fact that you’d been here the whole time. That you stayed.
You reached out and gently brushed a piece of hair off his forehead, your hand lingering there for a moment.
“I was worried,” you whispered.
He met your eyes again, and this time…he didn’t look away.
“I know,” he said quietly.
You sat with him in silence for another minute, just watching as he slowly came back to himself. Shoulders less tense now, breathing more even, the worst of the pain behind him.
Then, gently, you reached out again, your voice soft. “Do you need anything?”
He paused, rubbing the heel of his hand over his temple once more before exhaling through his nose. “I should probably eat something.”
You nodded immediately. “I can go make you a sandwich. There’s still stuff left from lunch.”
He looked at you for a beat, then gave a small nod. “Okay. Thanks.”
You gave his hand one last squeeze before slipping out from under the covers, careful not to jostle the bed too much. As you stood, you glanced toward the door, hesitating for a moment before whispering, “Try to rest. I’ll be right back.”
He just nodded again, watching you with quiet eyes.
You moved quickly, quietly, pulling the door open just enough to slip through it. You winced at the tiny crack of light that spilled into the room, but you shut it as softly as you could behind you.
You got in the elevator, then made your way down the hall, still barefoot, Bucky’s sweatshirt hanging loose around you.
The kitchen was empty now, the lunch mess cleaned up, ingredients tucked in the fridge and stacked in containers on the counter. You grabbed a plate, then began making his sandwich. You weren’t sure exactly what he liked, but you had an idea.
When it was done, you put the containers back in the fridge before grabbing a water bottle and making your way back to his room.
The hallway was still empty as you approached his door, and you slipped back inside as gently as you had left, carefully closing the door behind you without letting in too much light.
The room was still dim, still quiet. Bucky hadn’t moved much – he was just sitting up a little more now, propped against the headboard with the blankets still bunched around his waist. His hair was tousled, his eyes tired, but he gave you a soft look as you came over to him.
You crawled back onto the bed and handed him the plate and water, your voice low. “Here you go.”
He took it from you slowly, like he couldn’t quite believe it. “You’re spoiling me.”
You gave him a small smile, tugging the blankets back over your legs. “Someone’s gotta make sure you eat.”
He took a bite, chewing carefully, and then let out a soft hum. “Okay…this is the best sandwich I’ve ever had.”
You laughed gently. “You’re delirious.”
He gave a small smile, eyes flicking toward you. “Might be. But it’s still good.”
You sat beside him as he ate, your eyes drifting toward the closed curtains. The room felt warmer now, more settled.
He finished a few more bites in silence, then glanced at you again, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Thanks for staying.”
Your heart squeezed, but you just gave a soft nod. “Always.”
He looked at you a moment longer, then took another bite, finally letting out a breath that sounded a little lighter.
When he finished the sandwich, he set the plate on his nightstand and drank about half the water bottle in one breath. He sighed before setting that on the nightstand too.
“Feel better?” you asked.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
You just gave him a smile before he leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder, taking a deep breath.
“The migraines…” he started, before pausing for a few moments. “They remind me of being back there.”
You stilled, not expecting him to talk about it. You didn’t say anything, just shifted and put your arm around him, rubbing his shoulder as he continued.
“With the wiping, I always had a constant headache. I got so used to it, I learned to ignore it. But now…they only happen every once in a while, but they’re so painful.”
He fell quiet again, his head still on your shoulder. You kept rubbing slow circles into his arm, still not saying anything.
Bucky let out a breath, the kind that felt like it was pulled from somewhere deep.
“I usually try to hide it,” he said after a moment, voice barely more than a whisper. “Most people don’t really notice. Or…they think I’m just in a mood. That I’m being quiet or distant on purpose.”
He paused, and you could feel the faintest shift in his shoulders – not tension, exactly. More like vulnerability.
“But you…” He turned his head just slightly, his cheek brushing your shoulder. “You saw something was wrong. And you didn’t just leave me to it.”
Your hand paused for a second, then started moving again – slower now, gentler.
He pulled in a shaky breath. “Thank you,” he said again, quieter this time. “For staying.”
Your heart ached – for how small his voice was when he said it, for how surprised he sounded.
You tightened your arm around him and leaned your head lightly against his before answering.
“Of course,” you said. “I’ll always stay.”
He didn’t respond right away, but you felt the way his body relaxed just a little more against yours, like those words had settled something in him.
Like maybe, for the first time in a long time, he believed them.
The room stayed quiet for a while, just the slow rhythm of your breathing filling the space.
The rest of the day was spent together in his bed, switching between quiet conversation and comfortable silence, him wrapped up in your arms.
Because somehow, without either of you saying it out loud, this had changed everything.
And neither of you wanted to let go.
--
Part 10 | Masterlist
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i'm too scared to say...
in which kayce dutton loses the girl he should've had…
PAIRING: kayce dutton x fem!reader, young kayce dutton x young fem!reader WARNINGS: young love, realization, ANGST ANGST ANGST, CRAZY amounts of yearning, cussing, arguing, regret, did i mention angst? (dear arthur letter) WORD COUNT: 4.4k
🎶 : when i picture you - chappell roan
when i picture you
AN: by young I mean 18, about to go to college young!! there is a second (modern) part of this, so stay tuned!!
The air nipped at Kayce’s cheeks as him, his father, and their search party trotted back to the ranch. It was nearly 10, at the least, he assumed. He could see a figure in the distance, her skirt billowing in the wind as she (he assumed) pulled his Carhartt jacket closer for warmth. He suddenly felt warmer knowing that she was waiting for him. Then worry ran through his veins. How long had she been waiting there for him?
His father groaned. “Christ, Kayce. Just got back and she’s already waitin’ after you.”
He fought the urge to snap at his father. “She’s excited, that’s all.” Kayce stayed diligently beside him, but he itched to race the rest of the distance and pull her into his arms.
“Well go on then.”
Kayce grinned. “Really?”
“I can see your mind moving a hundred miles an hour. Just-” He sighed, laughing as he spoke. “Make sure to bring her up for dinner.”
“Yes, sir.”
He waited for no further instruction, kicking his horse to gallop at full speed. There she stood, as radiant as ever, right at the gate. He jumped off, catching her in his arms. He grinned, kissing her rosy cheeks. “Hi, baby.”
“I was worried about you.” She giggled as he kissed her between every word. “Was your trip- Mmph!”
Good, he thought. All he thought about since he’d left was kissing her, and her adorable speech was getting in the way of that. Her eyes fluttered shut, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her even closer.
He tilted his hat up, leaning his forehead against hers. “I’m trying to kiss you, and you keep talking.”
“I’m sorry, I just-” She laughed, pushing him away half heartedly when he inched toward her lips again. “Kayce!”
“Let me look at you.” She rolled her eyes, obliging him by spinning in a circle. “Just as perfect as I left you.”
“It’s been two days, Kayc.” She glared.
“Really?” He smirked, pulling her and JR toward the stables. “With that welcome, you woulda thought I went to war.”
“If you’re going to tease…” She muttered, releasing his hand and leaning against JR’s stable door. She’d always found it sweet, the way Kayce took care of his horse. Still, she couldn’t let him think he’d won. “Maybe next time, I won’t be there to welcome you.”
He laughed, patting JR on the side before shutting her stable doors. He turned around, swinging his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and pulling her up to the lodge. “Empty threats, baby.”
His smile was beautiful, she’d always made a point to tell him so. She enjoyed seeing his cheeks grow red, and words fail to leave his mouth.
When they were younger, they’d get into mud fights, and she swore his smile had never been brighter.
She was wrong, of course. If you’d asked Kayce, he would’ve said his smile was brighter than when she was in his sights.
The lodge was eerily quiet, but then again, it had been that way since Beth and Jamie left. All that was left now was Kayce, Lee, and Mr.Dutton.
And of course, Gator. Sweet Gator.
Kayce took his arm off her, pulling her chair out. Y/N laughed, kissing his cheek. “You’ve raised such a gentleman, Mr.Dutton.”
Lee laughed, taking a sip of his bourbon as he shook his head. Kayce glared at his older brother, sitting beside his girlfriend. “Why are you laughin'?”
“You’re a gentleman.” Lee wiggled his eyebrows. “I never would have guessed.”
“You wouldn’t know one if he stood right in front of you.” Kayce shot back. “I-”
“Kayc?” Y/N interupted. “He’s just teasing.”
Mr. Dutton rarely responded to her comments, let alone spoke at the dinner table. Instead, he opted to sit back and observe his children, and their occasional guests. He used to be rowdy, she reminisced on simpler times when Mrs. Dutton had made everyone giggle with ease.
Even her now stoic husband.
“How was the trip, Mr. Dutton?” Y/N asked as she cut her steak into pieces. “Did you find the lost cattle?”
Lee winced, and she looked over to her boyfriend, his eyes wide. Shit.
Mr. Dutton leaned back in his chair. “Found half dead.”
“Oh.” The air felt thick, and she suddenly felt the urge to race out of the room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“Not your fault.” He forced a smile. “Suppose Kayce forgot to tell you then.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How has school been treating you?” He pretended to be interested in her from time to time. This had been the fifteenth time that he’d asked her about school - this month. “Kayce tells me you're one of the smart ones.”
She smiled shyly. “Well, I wouldn’t say that…”
“Tell him how you can speak Latin, baby.” Kayce looked at his dad, proud as ever. “She can speak Latin.”
“I can read Latin, Kayc, not speak it.” Y/N placed her hand over his. “I’ve applied to five schools so far. Should be hearing back any day now.”
“What schools?”
“I’ve applied to Yale, Stanford, NYU, Vanderbilt, and Montana State. Hopefully for Political Science, and then Law during grad school.”
Mr. Dutton raised an eyebrow. “Montana State for law?”
“Yes, sir.”
“For the last time, Y/N, it’s John.”
She smiled. “Montana State is the best college in the state.”
“It’s one of the only colleges in the state.” He laughed. “That can’t be your top choice.”
“It’s not, but still...” She hoped he didn’t dive further into the subject, she could feel where this was going. She’d only told her father this, but she only applied to MU to be closer to Kayce. “Just an option.”
“Your father wants you closer to home then?”
“My father encouraged out-of-state schools. Wanted me to gain experience in the ‘real world’ or something like that.”
The older man laughed. “I told Beth and Jamie to do the same.”
Kayce squeezed her hand tightly, and she looked over, whispering. “You alright?” He nodded quickly, not even bothering to meet her eyes. She frowned. “Kayce-”
“It’s alright, baby.” He let go of her hand so quickly you would have guessed it had been on fire. “Eat up, your steak’s gettin’ cold.”
Kayce hadn’t looked up from his plate for the rest of the night.
Unfortunately, that meant for Y/N (besides her boyfriend ignoring her) that she had had to make conversation with Lee and Mr. Dutton by herself. He just stared at his plate, picking at his food like he wasn’t hungry. After the hundredth time of trying to get his attention, she realized that she should probably just leave. She sat her napkin down, smoothing out her dress. “I should be getting home.”
Mr. Dutton nodded. “Tell your father I said hello.”
“Will do.” She stood up and waved goodbye. “Lee.”
“See you, Y/N.”
She pushed her chair in, staring at Kayce. “Kayce?” He refused to look up, and she scoffed, storming out of the house.
“You best go after her.”
Kayce glared at his older brother. “Why?”
“Cause you’ve been ignoring her all night, that’s why.” Lee leaned forward in his seat. “She is the best chance you got, and you just let her leave.”
“We’ll talk in the morning.”
Lee held his hands up in surrender. “Fine. It’s your funeral.”
Kayce almost immediately stood up, following after her. Lee smirked. “Stupid kid.”
“Y/N!” She rolled her eyes, stalking toward her car. “Baby, come on!”
“Don’t baby me!” She yelled over her shoulder. “You just ignored me for two hours, Kayce John Dutton!”
“Baby-”
“I said don’t baby me.” She whipped around, eyes wild with anger or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell. “Or do your ears need cleaning out?”
“My ears are just fine.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“What exactly are you sorry for?” She raised an eyebrow. “Because you don’t seem sorry to me.”
“I-” He groaned. “What do you want me to say, Y/N?”
“Well, not that. Because that was the wrong answer, Dutton.” She laughed, although there was no humor present. “Come find me when you do know.” She turned back toward her car, unlocking it and pulling on the handle. She’d almost shut the door when his hand grabbed the top, stopping her from her escape.
“We’re fine, right?”
“Kayce, just let me go.” She let go of the door, staring at the wheel with a newfound interest. “We’ll talk when you know.”
“I- I do know.”
“Please share with the class.”
“I don’t want you to have to settle.”
That had shocked her. She looked up, staring into his eyes. “Settle?”
“You’re so smart, baby.” He crouched down, taking her hand in his. “So smart, much more than me. You applied to Yale and I only applied to Montana. Hell, I might not even get in.”
“Don’t say that.” She frowned, her exterior cracking as she turned in her seat, facing him and pushing a hair out of his face. “You’re every bit as smart as me.”
“Don’t-” He scoffed. “You and I know that's true. It’s not a bad thing. You could probably run the world if you wanted to.”
“Not a real job.” She murmured, laughing as Kayce glared at her playfully. “But I appreciate the sentiment.” She put her hands on his cheeks, caressing his cheeks. “You’re sweet for thinking that though, Kayce.”
“Thank you-”
“Just-” Her eyes looked sad. “Don’t put yourself down for me, okay? You really are just as smart. In different areas, sure. But…” She smiled, leaning down and kissing him gently. “Just as smart.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He stood up, shutting her door and leaning through her open window. “Tell your father I said hello.”
“I will.” He nodded. “And Kayce?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I love you.”
"I love you, too."
“I don’t know about this.” Y/N tensed up as Kayce led JR around the pen. “I feel like I’m gonna fall off.”
“If you’re tense, the horse is tense.” He smiled, placing a reassuring hand on her thigh. “Just relax.”
“That’s helpful.” She glared. “Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”
“Sass doesn’t make the horse calmer either.” He laughed. “Put your hand on her side, and pet her gently.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Good, good. Now just feel her breath with yours.” Y/N visibly calmed down, and he fought the grin that begged to peek out. “See that? You’re one and the same.”
“Yeah.” She smiled, humming and closing her eyes.
“Might not want to do that, baby.”
“Why not?” She hummed. “Because I’m not steering anymore.”
“What?” Her eyes shot up, and discovered he was true to his word. Kayce was no longer leading JR, but standing in the middle of the pen, laughing at her. “That’s not funny Kayce!”
“I don’t know. It was pretty funny to me.” He yelled back. “Go a little faster why don’t you?”
“How?”
“Lightly squeeze your legs!” The horse sped up almost instantly, and he grinned. “Good job, baby!”
“I’m doing it!” She practically squealed. “Kayc, are you watching?”
“Yes, baby.” He laughed. “Yes, I’m watching.”
“This is so fun!” She yelled. “Why didn’t you teach me sooner?”
“Ms. Y/N!” Kayce turned around, Lloyd waving an envelope in the air. “Your father came by, said he had a letter for you.”
Y/N raced over to the other side of the pen, taking the envelope from Lloyd’s hand, and muttering thank you. Kayce sauntered over, looking up at her hands.
“What is it?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. I’ll look at it later.”
He tilted his head. “You sure? If your dad dropped it off it must be-”
“Can we go on a ride?” She interrupted. Kayce didn’t miss the way she was skirting around the letter. But he could never turn down a ride, never. “Please?”
“Sure baby. Scoot back.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think you’re quite ready for a ride all by yourself.”
She scoffed, sticking her tongue out playfully. “You don’t believe in me, you can just say it.”
Their spot was perfect. There was a tree to tie JR to, a log to lay their heads on, and the perfect amount of shade thanks to the trees that loomed over them. The birds flitted from tree to tree, the creek babbling behind them as the sun peeked through the branches.
Kayce hummed. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” She blushed, kissing his cheek. “Take that hat off?”
“What for?” He raised an eyebrow.
“I want to wear it.” She scoffed. “The sun’s gettin’ in my eyes.”
“What if the sun’s getting in my eyes too?”
“Hmm.” She tapped her chin, pretending to think. “Come here.” Laying her head against the log, she tapped the crook of her neck. “You can lay your head right here, I can almost guarantee the sun won’t hit your eyes here.”
He nodded quickly. “Yes, ma’am.” His hat had been too big for her since he’d gotten it five years ago, but she still insisted that she wear it from time to time. She looked down, blushing when she saw he was already staring at her. She turned her head away, giggling.
“What’s so funny?”
“You- you just like looking at me, huh?”
He nodded, kissing the crook of her neck lightly. “I do.”
Her heart fluttered at the feeling. “I’m gonna explode if you stare at me too long.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” He hummed. “Can you look at me?” She shook her head, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Why not?”
“I’m embarrassed.”
“Oh?” He smirked. “How come?”
“I think you know why, Kayce. You always do this, you know you do.”
“What is it that I do?”
The smug bastard. She turned back toward him, staring directly into his eyes, and whispered. “You look at me and I turn to mush.”
He laughed, quickly kissing her lips before laying back down. “You do the same thing to me, baby.”
He fell asleep (what seemed like) seconds later. Looking down at her boyfriend, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. He looked so content with his arm slung around her waist, occasionally pulling her closer in his sleep.
Her heart broke the longer she looked at him. She’d felt horrible lying to him earlier, about the letter. When Lloyd had handed her the envelope and the address read Connecticut, she knew that would be the wrong place, the wrong time to tell him.
She told herself that every time she got a letter from Yale. How would she bring it up? It would break his heart, as much as he tried to pretend it hadn’t.
It didn’t help that they hadn’t talked about college since their argument in November.
It was now late April, two weeks before graduation.
She had one week to accept her offer, and ever since she’d been admitted, they’d been bombarding her with letters. Her father had been furious when he’d found out she’d ignored them. He always went on long rants about wanting her to have more, more than he ever had, or ever could.
And Montana, in his opinion, didn’t have that.
But when she looked at Kayce, at their little life on the ranch, she knew he was wrong. Kayce would be happy for her, they could figure it out. She vowed then and there, she would tell him as they rode back.
“Kayce?” Her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist.
He hummed. “Yeah?”
“I need to tell you something.”
“Alright…”
“I-” She laid her face on his back, his jacket muffling the sound of her voice. “Just promise you won’t be mad.”
“Why would I be mad?” He felt like he was going to have a heart attack.
“You remember the letter from earlier?”
He nodded.
“It was important.” Her voice wavered as she spoke. “It was from Yale.”
“Yeah?”
“I got in.”
“What?” Kayce pulled JR to a stop, grinning. “You did?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I did.”
“Baby!” He got off the horse, pulling her down so he could spin her around. “That’s great, that’s really great!”
She giggled, throwing her head back as he spun her. “You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?” He stopped spinning her, lowering her until their lips were inches apart. “I knew you would.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah!” He nodded, tipping his hat up, kissing her so passionately she thought her knees would go out. “God, I’m so proud of you.”
“Kayce!” She giggled. “I’m not done.”
“What else is there?” He murmured, leaning his forehead against hers.
“I don’t think I’m going to accept the offer.”
His eyes widened. “Why not?”
“I- I don’t want to leave you. Montana State is good, and I can get a great degree here… with you.”
“Well, that’s… wow.” He frowned. “Are you sure about this?”
“I’ve thought about it a lot, Kayc. A lot. I can’t imagine my life without you in it and I don’t think I can take moving across the country.”
“And I can’t imagine my life without you either.” He reassured her. “But this is a big opportunity baby. I don’t want you to give it up.”
“I’m not giving it up. I’m choosing to stay here. No one’s forcing me to do anything.”
She put her hand on his cheek. “Okay?”
“Okay.” He nodded, helping her back onto JR, but it ate at him, the fact that she was staying here for him. It was plain as day, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
Still, if she wanted to stay, he wouldn’t push her away. He loved her too much for that.
“Where have you been?”
Kayce jumped, clutching his heart. “Jesus, Dad.”
“So?” His deep voice echoed through the living room.
“Out with Y/N.”
“Ah.”
He knew he shouldn’t have told his father, but he felt so proud, so immensely proud to even know her, he had to. “She got into Yale.”
“Yale huh?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“I bet her father’s real proud.”
“I don’t think he knows.” That had been Kayce’s second mistake. “She’s planning on staying here.”
“Really?” John laughed, shaking his head. “Huh.”
“What?” Kayce crossed his arms, staring at his dad. “I can tell you want to say something.”
“She’s a smart girl, that’s all.”
“I know she is, Dad.”
“Really think she belongs here?”
Kayce shrugged. “Dunno. But it’s not really my choice, is it?”
“I suppose not.” He stood up, patting his son on the shoulder. “Sleep tight, son.”
He hadn’t slept a bit. He knew his father was right, in a way. No way was he going to let Y/N stay here for him and him alone.
And while he forced himself to eat breakfast, he came to a gut-wrenching realization.
He had to break up with her.
He jumped in his truck, racing over to her house as he rehearsed what to say. She wouldn’t take it well anyway he said it, but he had to do this. She deserved the world, and staying here would most definitely take her away from it.
God, she was perfect. She was wearing his favorite sundress, sitting on the porch reading. He’d sat in his truck, honestly considering driving away when she looked up. Shit.
She got up, walking over to his truck window, waiting for him to roll it down. “What are you doing here?”
He sighed, rolling down the window. “Came over to talk to you.”
“Oh?” She frowned. “Something wrong?”
He couldn’t- He couldn’t do it. “Do you want to go walk by the creek?”
“Sure…” Her eyes watched him suspiciously. “Did your dad say something again? You know he’s wrong, baby.”
This time, he had been right. It killed him, it broke his heart, but he was right. Walking side by side in silence, they sat down by the creek, throwing rocks in haphazardly. “What happened Kayce?”
He took his hat off, setting it beside him. “We need to break up.” His eyes widened as he said it.
She hadn’t even reacted crazily. “What did your father say, Kayc?”
“He didn’t say anything.” His third mistake of the day. “I think it’s best if we-”
“You do huh?” She laughed. “What happened to yesterday? About being proud of me?”
“I am proud of you. But-”
“But what?”
“You can’t stay here because of me.”
“I’m not-”
“Yes, you are!” He stood up, arms flying through the air. “You’re too smart, baby. You know this is a mistake, and you can’t admit it.”
“It’s not a mistake.” She spoke calmly. He groaned, walking further down the creek. It wasn't until she placed her hand on his shoulder that he turned around. “It’s not just about you, you know. My dad’s getting older, and with Mama gone, I need to take care of him.”
“Baby… Your father is 54. He’s not old.”
“Kayce! Just-” She sounded upset. Now he’d done it. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Yes! Yes, I do!” Her eyes widened, and he stuttered. “Not for the reason you’re thinkin’. Just-” He sighed. “You need to see the world, experience life! You belong out there, not stuck in Montana.”
“I’m not stuck Kayce! I’m happy. Really happy.”
“And there’s nothing I love more than when you’re happy. But you-“
“You don’t get to decide what I do.”
“I know that, but my dad-”
“Oh.” She laughed, crossing her arms. “Oh, so he did say something?”
“He did. But he wasn’t wrong. You-” He reached out for her hand, surprised when she still let him hold it. “Baby, listen to me. You are beautiful, and kind, and smart, and witty, and you don’t belong here as a rancher’s wife. You belong out there, showing everyone what you can do. I couldn’t bear it if you-”
“A rancher’s wife?” Her voice was small, so small he hardly caught it.
“Really? That’s what you got from this?” He groaned. “Y/N, are you listening-”
“I am.” Her voice was hard. “I’m hearing that you think I’m not thinking this through and that your father doesn’t approve. Well, guess what, Dutton? I don’t give two shits what your father thinks. This is my life, and you can’t tell me how to live it.”
He could only think of one thing, one thing that would get her to leave. His heart fully died as he said it, but it had to be done. “I never loved you.”
Her whole face had recoiled in shock, and she ripped her hand out of his hold. “What?”
“You heard me.” He walked around her, grabbing his hat off the ground. “I’ll mail your thing-”
She grabbed his wrist, pulling him around and looking him square in the eyes. “What is this? Is this some tactic to get me to leave?” She had this horrible ability to see through him.
He shook his head. “No, I just realized that I shouldn’t be wasting your time. Wasn’t trying to hurt you but-”
Her hand had collided with his cheek before he could think.
“Fuck you Kayce.”
He watched as she walked back toward the house, tears in his eyes. In part because of that firm slap, but mostly because he’d just torn his own heart in two. He put his hat back on, walking miserably back to his truck. Just as he’d grabbed the door handle, she shoved him, hard.
“You’re dead to me.” Sobs wrecked through her as she screamed. “I can’t look at you.”
He’d just let her push him. For a bit, it made him feel better, but when she tried to slap him again, he grabbed her wrists, pulling her close. “Stop, just stop.”
She wrestled under his hold. “Let go of me!”
“Baby-”
“Don’t call me that!” Her voice rang through the ranch as she ripped her wrists out of his hold. “Get out of here. I don’t want to see your face again!”
He nodded, opening the door and starting the truck. Tears streamed down her face as she clung to the door. “We-re not- we’re not really done are we?”
He hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. “Let go of the truck, Y/N.”
“Baby- wait-”
He pressed the gas, roaring out of the driveway, leaving her covered in dust. “Shit!” He screamed, his sobs overtaking him. “Fuck!”
My dear Kayce,
You never showed up. And now, after looking at the news, I understand why. I hope you don’t lose the ranch, after everything that’s happened there. All the memories we share, all the memories your family built there.
I don’t believe you will read this letter. I nonetheless, must send you this.
Kayce, my dear Kayce.
It was foolish of me to dream that dream. Rancher’s wife? How could I when the rancher doesn’t love me?
I miss you, and I will always miss you. But you’re right. I cannot live like this. And it seems you cannot live any other way. When I’m with you the world makes sense, but when we are apart I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape.
I’m so sorry, for everything. For everything I said, and did, and for putting you in that position. There’s a good man within you, Kayce.
A bad man would have let me stay.
I enclose in this letter, a ring that you gave me. Remember, the ring that you gave me at the rodeo some years ago? I remember.
It’s not because I don’t like it, but because it reminds me too much of you. I hope, by returning it to you, I can be free of you, just like you are of me.
Goodbye,
Y/N
His shoulders shook as he read the letter. God, she had no idea how wrong she was. He wasn’t free of her, he never would be. But now, things were different. Now, after mere weeks apart, he’d made a mistake, one that was irreversible.
“Baby? You comin’ back to bed?”
He turned around, smiling. “I’ll be there in a second Monica.”
She nodded. “Okay.” She sauntered over, and he quickly wiped the tears from his face. “Don’t be too long.”
“I won’t.” He waited until she left the room to look back at the letter. He walked over to his desk, placing the folded paper carefully in his bottom drawer. He couldn’t bring himself to throw it away, but he couldn’t look at it. Not when he had a family on the way.
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enough for you
wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x fem!reader
summary: in which your girlfriend natasha makes you feel like you're never enough. (based off enough for you by olivia rodrigo)
word count: 2069
tags: angst, toxic relationship, insecurity, arguments, cheating, reader feels unloved (and unworthy of love), poor reader can never catch a break, cryptic mention of reader's mother being dead, self- hatred, reader's so sad, nat sucks (like a lot), but wanda comes through at the end like she always does and they have a little meet-cute :), i wrote this in one sitting while listening to enough for you on a loop
part two: so american
You sigh as you try to do your makeup in your mirror as flawlessly as possible. Every blemish or mark on your face needed to be covered up so you could look perfect for Nat. You were desperate to measure up to the gorgeous women Nat has dated before you and for that, you needed to look absolutely pristine.
In the past year, you’ve done so many new things you weren’t fond of just for Nat to like you. From nearly destroying every single muscle in your body at the gym just to measure up to her rigorous exercise routine, all the way to learning how to cook and bake every single one of her favorite foods until it was all you two ever ate despite your dislike for the majority of her preferred meals, you’ve tried so hard to be everything that Nat liked so she wouldn’t get sick of you.
You frown slightly, Nat has never once acknowledged your kind gestures and actions, nor reciprocated them.
“I’m just not the compliment type, Y/N, just drop it,” she had told you one time when you had confronted her on why she never acknowledged your efforts.
You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded wordlessly.
***
“I made you your coffee,” you told Nat as she entered the kitchen in the morning. 2 creams, no sugar, just how you like it.
Nat nodded and took the mug from you, sitting down at the table and barely paying any attention to your gesture.
Clearing your throat, you tell her, “I also got up early this morning to buy tickets for us to go to that band I know you’ve been wanting to go to for a while.” You cross your fingers behind your back, hoping for her to tell you you’re good enough for her just this once.
“Sorry, babe, Carol already got them for me,” she responds, your heart falling to your stomach. Putting her empty mug in the sink, she plants a kiss on your lips. “Besides, you don’t even know the lyrics to their songs.” She leaves you on your own in the kitchen.
I know all of them by heart because of you.
***
“Hey, Y/N?” Nat asks you one night on the couch.
“Yeah?” you respond, turning to face your girlfriend.
“I don’t really feel like myself these days.” Nat pauses. “Do you know what might help?” Despite the content of her question, you still smile, because this was your chance. This was your chance to show her that you might truly be worth loving.
“First, I’m always here if you need to talk,” you say softly, but Nat makes no sound of acknowledgment next to you. “And second, make your own decisions you believe will be beneficial to you, just for yourself, and do the things that bring you fulfillment,” you explain.
Nat finally turns and looks at you thoughtfully. “How did you figure that one out?”
“I read your self-help books,” you reply sheepishly. I read all of them.
“Wow, you’re pretty smart,” Nat replies, going back to the movie the two of you were watching together.
And you smile for the rest of the night because that’s the first compliment Nat has given you since you first started dating a year ago.
***
You and Nat had a fight. It isn’t the first time, but it’s the first time it’s hurt you this much as you truly take in your current reality.
You’re crying in your shared room, Nat leaving you to go out for drinks you assume.
Earlier tonight, you made the stupid mistake of asking why she was never there for you, it was during the heat of the moment, but your outrage felt justified due to the fact that she missed your award ceremony for your article in medical research (the third time this year she’s missed one of them but you did your best to forgive her before this), and she had simply scoffed at you telling you that it wasn’t even a big deal anyways.
But this one was a big deal to you.
It was research that could have saved your mother.
“I nearly get killed every time I go out on the job, Y/N! Some stupid neuroscience article is nothing compared to that!” she yelled at you, exhausted from her day at work.
Your eyes flooded with hurt as Nat’s filled with regret.
“Wait, I’m sorry,” she said remorsefully.
The first sign of remorse she’s ever shown you.
“It’s fine, Nat,” you reply, trying to keep your tears at bay. You weren’t even in neuro, but that didn’t matter. Not to her. “Just go out, like you wanted.” You wave her off to go upstairs to your room.
“Y/N, wait-”
You didn’t listen, shutting the door before collapsing to your knees as you started to sob.
Stupid, emotional, and obsessive. That was what you were.
***
Nat has been home late for the past few nights, your worry increasing with each passing day. It’s probably something to do with work, but something feels off.
“Where were you?” you ask Nat as she enters the front door. “I was worried sick.”
“I’m fine, Y/N. I just got held up at work,” Nat doesn’t make eye contact with you.
“Oh, okay,” you say softly, feeling oddly small compared to your girlfriend. “Couldn’t you have called?”
“For god’s sake, Y/N, my phone was dead. God, you’re so clingy,” Nat bites back, walking past you to go straight up to your room and slamming the door.
You sigh, heading for the guest room since you know Nat won’t let you sleep next to her tonight.
Suddenly, you hear Nat’s phone go off. And you realize that she had left it by the front door.
Picking it up, you notice, that it’s at nearly full charge.
Your brows furrow as you see the message your girlfriend received.
Carol: Had a great time tonight, Nat.
You don’t stop crying until the sun rises, one phrase ringing through your head the whole night.
What are you doing wrong?
***
“Am I not as interesting as the girls she’s dated before me?” you cry to Yelena as she rubs your back in comfort.
“My sister is an idiot,” Yelena mutters, seeing how your relationship with Nat is tearing you apart.
“What?” you choke out through your tears.
“I think you love her more than anyone she’s ever had, and she couldn’t care less.”
“She’s breaking my heart, Lena,” you sniffle. “But more than that, she’s breaking me.”
You cry harder into your best friend’s arms.
“I don’t know who I am anymore,” you sob into her shoulder.
***
“Where were you?” you ask Nat as she comes home past midnight once again.
“I was at the compound, we had a villain that got out so we had to take care of him.”
You nod, but Tony already sent you the camera footage for tonight after you told him about your issues with your girlfriend and you know she was with Carol.
“Are you sure?” you inquired.
“Yes, Y/N,” Nat says exasperated. “For god’s sake, why are you never satisfied with whatever I do?” she says walking past you.
“I don’t think that’s true,” you tell Nat from behind her.
“What?” she says, turning around to face you.
“You’re never satisfied with me,” you state. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted is to be good enough for you, but nothing I ever do for you seems to make you happy.”
Nat scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I know you were with Carol tonight,” you reveal.
“No, I wasn’t,” she denies.
“Tony sent me the footage, I know there was no villain. I know you’re cheating on me, and I know that you never cared about me,” you state.
“Fine, whatever, I’m going to bed,” Nat says, completely disregarding you and everything she’s done to destroy the person you once were.
“We’re done, Nat,” you tell her as she walks up the stairs to your once-shared room.
Nat waves you off like you’ve never meant anything to her.
And maybe you never did.
***
“I loved her so much, I still do, and all she did was use me, then throw me away like I meant nothing to her,” you tell Yelena at the drink bar. Nat was away on a mission, so Yelena thought it might be fun for you to join her at one of the Avengers parties.
“Don’t worry Y/N,” Yelena tells you. “I could tell her to apologize to you, but clearly she’s got some issues to figure out within herself before she can resolve any outside.”
You nod wordlessly.
What Yelena says then surprises you, “But honestly? She should be the one feeling sorry for herself.” You look at her curiously. “Someday, there will be someone out there who will love you as deeply as you love them.”
“I don’t know, Lena,” you say softly. “Nat was everything to me.”
“Someday, Y/N, you’ll be everything to somebody else.”
***
1 year later
You’re running late for work, rushing out the door of the coffee shop, and you don’t notice the fact that you’ve bumped into someone until your coffee spills all over the floor, making you gasp.
“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry,” you tell the figure in front of you, and suddenly you freeze, at the sight of her glimmering emerald green eyes. Like Nat’s, but eternally softer. Eternally more curious.
“Oh, no worries,” she says with a smile, pulling a few napkins out of her purse.
“I didn’t spill any on you, did I?” you ask the woman, your mind a mess due to your embarrassment at spilling your coffee, but still quite fuzzy at the sight of her undeniable beauty.
If you weren’t so much of a useless homosexual, you would bend down and help her clean the coffee she’s currently wiping away. Much like how she’s wiping away your ability to form any sort of cohesive thought.
“No, I’m ok,” she laughs, standing up once more once all the coffee’s gone. “C’mon, let me buy you a new one.”
Your eyes widen. “Oh, no, it’s not a big deal. Besides, it’s completely my fault for bumping into you-”
“I want to,” she cuts off with a soft smile.
“Oh,” you say softly. “Okay,” you finally resign to the comforting look she gives you.
“Let me just make a quick phone call,” you let her know, hoping she doesn’t leave.
“Take your time,” she assures.
You smile gratefully.
Your phone call was to call in sick to work for the second time in your life –you didn’t have a busy day today and you were running late anyways– and it was all to spend time with a pretty girl.
On any other day you’d probably laugh at how pathetic you were, but this woman made you feel an odd sense of uncertainty within your life.
Like nothing had ever made sense before her.
Once you hang up the phone, you turn to see the woman already standing there, a white to-go coffee cup with a bit of steam escaping the spout.
“Here’s your coffee,” the woman hands you the cup with a big smile as you pocket your phone. You inspect the label, your mouth parting slightly in shock once you see all of your preferred customizations. Done perfectly.
“How do you know my coffee order?” you ask.
“I took the label off the old one,” she says, showing you the sticker in the palm of her hand. “Want to sit?” She points to the array of round tables within the cafe.
“I don’t even know you,” you say slowly. I called in sick to work for you, it’s a little too late for that.
The brunette woman laughs before holding out her hand for you to shake. “Hi, I’m Wanda,” she says.
“Y/N,” you respond, shaking her outstretched hand as your face flushes slightly at its softness.
“See? Now we know each other,” Wanda says cheekily.
You nod with a shy smile, following her to the table in the back as the two of you settle down into a small conversation.
Somehow, the two of you spend the rest of the day talking and laughing, and you think it might be the best day of your life.
Little do you know, Wanda thinks so too.
part two: so american
#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff fanfiction#wandamaximoff#wanda maximoff fluff#marvel mcu#mcu#wanda x you#wanda x y/n#wanda marvel#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader
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A Shared Joint
Theo Nott x reader
Warnings: mentions of alcohol, weed consumption, swearing, making out, brooding?reader (it’ll make sense), Google translated Italian
A/N: Italian!Theo always‼️(accent🤩) ((this man is so hot)), not specified what house you are in.
The Slytherin common room was packed to the brim, mostly with slytherin and ravenclaws, though you could spot some Hufflepuffs and the occasion Gryffindor. The lights were low, music blaring through the speakers as students danced, drank, and talked all around you. Every corner of the room seemed to have a couple making out and groping each other, and smoke from cigarettes and joints hung low in the air.
You didn’t want to be at this party. You would’ve much preferred drinking with your friends in one of your dorms as you normally would. Instead your best friend wanted to come to slytherin’s party that night, and you didn’t want her to go alone. So that’s how you found yourself where you were now; sat on the large couch in the center or the room, one arm propped on the arm of the couch, your head resting upon it with an uninterested look etched on your face.
You watched as your friend danced with some kid in your year, both clearly intoxicated. You had taken a couple of shots and had currently been nursing a drink for the last hour and were entirely too sober for this. The room was hot, the amount of people only exasperating that, the pounding in your head had begun to match the pounding of the music, and you were tired. You wanted to leave, but you knew your friend didn’t. She was having the time of her life dancing with… Berkshire? You weren’t sure. All you know was that she had a smile on her face, so you were more than willing to wait out this boring party for her.
It was only a few minutes later, though it felt like another hour had passed, when you felt the couch dip next to you. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you turn your head to the side to be met with Theodore Nott’s profile. He was staring ahead, his eyes low and his mouth straight as usual. He held a drink in one of his hands, and as he leaned his head on the back of the couch, you spotted a joint resting behind his ear. He was dressed as he always was: smart pants paired with a (probably) expensive button up, the first few buttons undone.
You turned your attention back in front of you, your gaze searching for your friend. She was still dancing with the same kid, though now with considerably more groping and tension. At least one of us is enjoying ourselves, you thought. Surveying the room, it seemed the only two people not on their feet were you and Nott, which made you feel a bit out of place. You weren’t able to linger on that feeling for long though.
“At least I know I’m not the only one who’d rather be anywhere else.” Theo broke the silence between you two. His accent made it a bit harder to understand him under the loud music, but you surpassingly managed.
You turned your head to your right, making eye contact as his head was already tilted toward you. You had to admit, Theodore Nott was attractive. More than that, he was hot. His eyes bore into yours, his stare making you feel as if he seeing straight into your soul.
Breaking eye contact, you huffed out a chuckle.
“I’m only here because my friend wanted to come.”
“Ah,” a half smile-half smirk crossed his face, “being a good friend and not leaving her to come on her own I assume?”
You nodded in response.
He turned his head back straight, breathing out a barely audible sigh.
“Only here ‘cause it’s your common room I assume? Can’t really escape these idiots can you?” You turned back to him to once again be met with the side of his face. He didn’t respond right away, which made you think he was ignoring you, before he sighed.
“My friends like to throw these parties. I find it fucking annoying to have to clean up after everyone the next morning. Too much work sai?”
You nodded. “Thats understandable. Merlin knows I wouldn’t want to do that shit.”
Theo chuckled. “That’s exactly what I’m saying bella.”
You raised your eyebrows in response and turned back towards the crowd. Out of your peripheral vision you could see Theo reach behind his ear for the joint. He rolled it in between his fingers for a few seconds before standing. He walked a bit, before stopping a step or two past the arm of the couch and turns his body towards you.
“Would you like to join?”
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Theo guided you out of the common room up a set of stairs out of the dungeons. The two of you were currently at one of the open windows of the castle, you sitting on the ledge and Theo leaning against it. He pulled a lighter from his pocket before handing you the joint.
“Ladies first of course.” He stated, that half smile-half smirk from earlier making another appearance. You huffed out a laugh and took the joint from his fingers, setting it between your lips, as he lit it for you.
You and Theo passed the joint between the two of you in a comfortable silence. For not having too much interaction with him all these years, it wasn’t awkward like one would have thought. This silence that lingered allowed you to observe Theo when he wasn’t paying attention. You had already admitted to yourself he was hot, everyone knew that, but you have never really seen that for yourself. Now, with a nice high, you were finally seeing for yourself that Theodore Nott was hot. Really hot. He took another hit off the joint before looking back to you, luckily giving you enough time to make it seem like you hadn’t been staring.
Theo offered you the joint and you took it, directing your glance upward as you rest your head against the wall, zoning out a bit. While you weren’t paying attention, he took it as a chance to do the same you have been doing seconds prior, unbeknownst to you. He had always thought you were attractive, he had seen you throughout all your years here. Seeing you tonight by yourself looking like you’d rather die than be at that party gave him the perfect opportunity to actually talk to you. He didn’t necessarily fancy you, you were someone who caught his eye several times, but he could definitely see that changing.
You finally zoned back in and could feel Theo’s eyes on you.
“You’re staring.”
He only breathed a small chuckle. “Am I?”
You locked eyes with him. “Yes.”
Theo kept your eye contact, not seeming embarrassed he was caught staring. Pushing off his arms that were on the ledge of the window, he turned his body to face you.
“What a shame,” his gaze flitted downward before meeting your eyes again. “una bella ragazza mi ha sorpreso a fissarlo.”
Though you weren’t quite sure what he said, you had to admit it was hot when he spoke in Italian. With his gaze still meeting yours, he moved again, this time shifting between your legs. Unconsciously, you opened them a bit wider for him. His hand ghosted over your thigh, a feather light touch almost sending shivers down your spine.
“You shouldn’t stare. It is rude after all.” You replied lamely after realizing you hadn’t responded yet. One side of his mouth tilts up in a half smile.
“Scusa.” He muttered, rolling his lips in to wet them. “Didn’t mean to be rude.” He moved his hand up a bit further, making sure you were still okay with the contact.
“If staring at you is rude would kissing you be rude too?” He asked, his eyes boring into your own.
Instead of responding verbally, you moved to put one of your hands on his face, and leaning in to kiss him.
He responded immediately, kissing you back with fervor. The hand on your thigh moved up even further while his other went to your jaw. You moved your other hand through his hair, lightly tugging on the roots. Theo released a light moan in response, his mouth opening enough for your tongue to slip inside. You scooted closer to him, most of your body hanging off the ledge of the window. Theo moved his hand up under your dress as his hand on your jaw pulled you closer. The two of you were breathing heavy, the kiss igniting a hunger for the other neither of you realized you had. The two of you continued to kiss until a distant bang caught your attention. Jumping away from him, you realized the bang came from the dungeons, and that someone had come out of the common room. Theo tired to chase your lips, using the hand on your jaw to try and pull you back to him when you heard someone quietly call your name.
“Shit,” you sighed. The only person at the party that would’ve been looking for you was your best friend, you could tell it was her the closer she got to you and Theo.
Theo lowered his hand from your jaw, letting it fall to your waist before moving away so you could get down.
“I guess you have to go.” He asked, though they way he said it made it seem like a statement.
“If she’s looking for me it probably means she’s ready to go, so.”
You finally got off the window ledge, Theo’s hands on your waist as you did. Before going back down to the dungeon, you turned to him. One hand on the back of his neck, you drew him into a quick kiss.
“We should continue tho sometime.” You mumbled against his lips.
“Anytime you want.” He nodded.
You gave him a small smile before slipping your hand off your next and bidding him goodbye.
“Ciao bella.” He called to you before you were out of earshot.
You turned back around, winking at him before disappearing down the stairs.
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I’m thinking of making a smutty part 2, so let me know if you would like that. Enjoy xx!
#harry potter#Harry Potter x reader#Theodore nott#Theo nott#Lorenzo Zurzolo#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#lorenzo zurzolo x reader#theo nott smut#Harry Potter smut#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader
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YOU’RE WHINING
carl grimes x reader
(carls whining gets irritating.)
tags: oral sex (m!receiving), needy carl :P
masterlist here!
Carl was never really one to pry for things. He really did love taking care of you whenever he had the chance, he enjoyed the traditional ways of handling your relationship. He would love to hold doors open for you, let you enter places first (unless dangerous), cooking for you, or even when it came to your intimate relationship.
Most of the time, he did what he could to pleasure you. Whatever position allowed you to feel best, he did it for you. He also made sure you finished first every time. Not to mention he loves going down on you, not just because it pleasured you but he just absolutely adores it. Anyway, the first time you’d done something for him, he realized how nice it was to be to one receiving the head.
You didn’t realize how needy he could get before then. That man is vocal. The first time he let you give him head was when you guys were insanely bored while no one was home.
It’s a good thing no one was home as he practically couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
Anyway since then he’s been begging for it again. Unfortunately there was never really a right time. You were always on runs and even then you were always having some sort of trouble whether it was walkers, issues with the car, even people. It all got worse when you were assigned on different jobs for a week. Aaron had found a new horse and you were put the task of breaking it. Meanwhile, Carl had perimeter watch.
After a long and frustrating day with the new horse, you pull her into a newly built stable to brush her down n such. Despite your struggles in breaking her, she was beautiful, you had to admit. You were just about done before you heard footsteps approaching, so you turn around to be greeted by the sight of Carl. He said he’d come meet you after his shift.
“Hey.” You smile and he almost swoons completely. He greets you back with a small hello and a kiss on the cheek before giving his attention to the horse in front of you. He stroked her for a moment before looking back at you, admiring how you looked. He wanted you to suck him off so bad, he was practically yearning for it. He felt this feeling in his throat, almost like a moan, but not. You look back over to him and look at him sort of oddly, wondering what the expression on his face was about.
“You okay?” You ask, sort of setting him off. Then he lets out a noise, one that sort of baffles you before he started rambling. “Please, I really need it can you-” His breath is heavy and he pulls his hat off to cover his crotch where you can assume there’s a tent in his jeans. Your eyes widen and you’re not quite sure how to respond. “Jesus, Carl you’re whining.” You state, completely taken aback by his demeanor.
“I know m’really sorry but I…I really need you to go down on me I’m begging here.” He takes a step closer to you and takes your hand in his, holding it real tight because he is, in fact, begging. “Just behind the stable, no one will see.” He pleads.
Well…how can you say no to that?
Soon after, you’re kneeling down in front of him in the grass between the large steel wall (of Alexandria) and the wood of the stables. He was right, no one would see you there but they could definitely hear you so you warn him. “You’re gonna need to be quiet.” You start to work on getting his belt off and he nods, his breath getting heavier the longer he sees you on your knees in front of him.
As you work on his belt, you decide to tease him a little because, why not? So you press kisses to his (very hard by the way) dick through his jeans, causing him to moan already. You haven’t even gotten to the real thing. “I told you baby you gotta be quiet.” You smile up at him and he looks down at you so frustrated. Frustrated because you’re teasing him and you know how long he’s been wanting this. Except, that only makes it hotter for him.
You finally get his belt unbuckled and you unbutton his jeans. You tug them down, along with his underwear, just to see how needy he really was. He was rock hard, he couldn’t help it with the way you looked when he walked into the stable, your hair a mess, tired eyes and sweaty. It got him really, really aroused. You take a hold of his length which draws a sharp hiss from his mouth.
Just looking up at him like the way you were prompted him to leak a little which you very clearly took notice considering you took that as a go ahead to take him in your mouth. “Oh god-” His arms were practically nailed to the wood behind him and you continued to take him, sliding his cock in and out of your mouth repeatedly, your saliva building up and following each movement of your mouth. Your other hand goes to the base of his cock and it sort of lingers there, your fingers gently massaging. It was taking everything in him to not rut his hips into your mouth.
“I can’t..” His hands now go to your hair where he gently tries to steady himself but he seriously can’t take it. The wet noises coming from your mouth as you still won’t stop. “Please baby I’m close.” He moans, prompting you to pull back a moment, pulling a whine from him as well. You still slowly twist your hand around his dick while you look up at him, admiring him and how gorgeous he looks. His bottom lip is red from biting it so hard trying to keep quiet, but his mouth is agape and he’s breathing so hard. Meanwhile his eyes are half lidded and he just looks so fucked out.
“Is this what you wanted?” You giggle and swirl your tongue around his tip, prodding your tongue into the slit of it. All the air leaves his body and eyes roll into the back of his head. He moans so fucking loud, your eyes widen at his volume. “If you don’t close your mouth I will stop.” You laugh and he nods, taking in a deep breath to get ready for you to start again.
“Good?” He looks down and nods yes. “Yeah, good.” So you start again, moving your hand with your mouth too, spreading the saliva down to cover him with it completely. You go back to bobbing your head at a steady pace, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. Carl resorted to just letting out soft groans, quiet enough for just the two of you to hear.
Soon enough, he was close again and this time you wouldn’t stop. You’d move quicker, taking more and more of him into your throat while he pushed your hair back out of your face. “M’gonna cum please don’t stop-” He speaks breathlessly and you comply, not stopping until he grips the back of your head still against him while the warm liquid spills down your throat. Once every drop is out of him, he lets go of your head and you pull away, doing everything you can to make it look somewhat attractive. A string of saliva follows your mouth from his dick.
You wipe your mouth with your sleeve and he gets himself back situated in his jeans. All he wants to do at this point is love on you. You treated him so well. He pulls you into a hug, leaning back against the stable wall while he kisses you all over your face.
“That good?”
“No that was incredible.”
a/n: so let’s talk about this LMFAOOOO LISTEN!!! i got this request and started writing it right after T-T and then finished it an hour after it was requested. where did that motivation come from? no idea. but also this made me realize i have never posted a fic where the reader gives him a blow job so…that might be why?
anyway this was very impromptu, match ups done soon blah blah ghost in the woods blah blah
tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow
#carl grimes#twd#the walking dead#carl grimes twd#carl grimes fanfiction#carl grimes x reader#carl grimes fluff#carl grimes x fem!reader#carl grimes x y/n#carl grimes the walking dead#the walking dead carl#carl grimes smut#twd carl#twd smut#twd fanfiction#rinas writing 🌀
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4:15am — Hayato Suo
“A real gentleman is as polite to a little girl as to a woman.”
You remember reading that exact line a while back, though you can’t remember where. And if it weren’t for your boyfriend holding a lost little girl’s hand as he brings her to safety, you would have forgotten the quote altogether.
But today that quote wasn’t leaving your mind anytime soon.
“Here you go, let’s sit down here,” Suo gestured to a nearby bench, gently guiding her through her teary eyes. “Do you happen to remember your parent’s number?”
The young girl sniffled and wiped her tear stained cheeks. “N-No, I’m sorry…” she croaked, guilt creeping into her glossy eyes.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey now— it’s okay,” he whispered soothingly. “I’m sure they’re looking for you too. Could you give us a visual description of what they look like?”
You were seated next to the little girl while Suo was crouched besides her, opting to give you the leftover seat for a chance to rest your legs. It was a sweet gesture, really. But you wish he’d give himself an opportunity to rest too, seeing as he just dealt with a small gang all by himself.
How this situation started was a blur. One minute you were shopping for a new flavor of tea with Suo, and the next you were comforting a girl no older then ten while your boyfriend beat up a group of punks that thought it’d be fun to pick on her. The moment they were all down, Suo had the three of you flee the scene to keep the young girl safe.
You kept a gentle gaze on the girl next to you, though it didn’t stop you from sending Suo a concerned glance for her. She was clearly frightened— no doubt about it, and you couldn’t blame her. If you were little, lost from your parents, and older kids started teasing you, you’d get worked up as well.
“They’re tall… both reallyyy tall,” she said through sniffles. “Mommy has long blonde hair, and daddy has big curly hair on his head and face.”
Suo nodded, retaining the newly acquired information. “I see, can you recall the last place you saw them?”
He gazed at her softly, a look that made her feel safe and secure despite it coming from a stranger. Her sniffles stifled, and her breathing soothed.
Before she could respond, haste footsteps approached the three of you. You snapped your head in the direction the sound came from for confirmation that it wasn’t the boys from earlier. Instead, you were met with unfamiliar faces that matched the description you had just heard.
“Oh goodness, there she is!”
The blonde woman came rushing to her daughter, scooping her up in her arms as she let out a sigh of relief. “We were so worried about you…”
Suo and you both stood, finding your way back to each other’s sides as you watched the small family reunite.
The man— who you could only assume was the little girl’s father— bowed in gratitude.
“Thank you, thank you so much for keeping her safe,” he expressed, sounding quite out of breath.
“We were happy to help,” Suo smiled. “She didn’t get herself into any trouble, unfortunately it came to her. So please, don’t blame her for the commotion.”
The girl’s mother set her back on her feet, allowing her to hug both your and Suo simultaneously. You both hugged back, of course.
“I hope I can be as cool as you guys one day…!”
You side-eyed your boyfriend subtly, as did he, and let out a small chuckle. Neither of you would consider your actions to be “cool,” they were just good deeds. It’d be pure evil to leave such a young kid alone in a dangerous situation, something neither you or Suo would stand for.
“Again, thank you so much. We really can’t thank you enough for handling everything.”
You waved your hands, “It was no problem, really. Like he said— we were glad to help.”
Suo nodded next to you, tilting his head and sending a close-eyed smile to the family, waving as they set off. Once they were out of sight, a sigh of relief escaped your lips.
“Stressed?”
“Not anymore, but that whole thing had my heart racing. That poor girl…” your voice trailed off, thinking about what might’ve happened if neither of you were nearby. “Although…”
His brow lifted in curiosity as you turned to face him with a teasing grin. “I never imagined you being such a hero to kids~”
“What can I say?” he chuckled. “I’ve always been a gentleman haven’t I? That’s what you and the others have been telling me, at least.”
“Yeah, but I think this qualified you as a true gentleman.”
There’s no way that quote won’t cross your mind every time you see Suo from now on. Not until it’s erased from your memory, that is.
© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform
#the quote is from little women my louisa may alcott#wind breaker#windbreaker#wind breaker x reader#windbreaker x reader#suo hayato#suo#suou hayato#suo hayato x reader#suou x reader#suo x reader#suo fluff#wind breaker fluff#dor writes
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Boyfriend For The Night (Part 2) | Spencer Reid x Reader
Part 1, Finale!
Summary: After a few too many drinks, Spencer takes you back to your place, and you say something you might regret when you sober up…
Tags: fluff, more pining idiots, BAU!Reader, Fem!Reader.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption
Words: 2.3k (whoopsie)
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“Reid is my boyfriend, for the night,” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink. It was, supposedly, just for the night, but Spencer liked the sound of that.
And, admittedly, so did you.
“Just for the night?” Morgan laughed, his bright, white smile teasing you two.
“Well, we’ll see how he does and go from there,” you joked. Reid couldn’t help but laugh a little at your comment.
“Well, I intend to impress,” he rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand, laughing under his breath while looking down at you. Penelope hit Morgan on the shoulder, drawing his attention toward Reid’s little look of love. He just laughed, turning back to his conversation with Hotch.
“Those two are so screwed.”
The night went on as one usually does. Some of the team split off into different games, dancing, or their own little conversations. You and Spencer were of the latter group.
“I can’t explain WHY The Princess Bride is my favorite movie, it just is!” You feigned defensiveness, leaning into the seat behind you, laughing. “Why don’t your profile it out of me,” you smiled at Spencer. He laughed, taking a drink of his club soda.
“Fine,” he set his drink down, turning to you. “I think…” he leaned down, leveling his eyes with yours, glancing between both of your irises. “I think it’s probably because, ever since you were a child, you’ve been escaping with fantasy,” he sat up. “It would be safest to assume you identify with Buttercup, that you long for someone close to you to come sweep you off your feet and solve all your problems,” he narrowed his eyes. You looked gently up at him. “But,” he sighed, leaning back. “Knowing you, I’d say you like Westley,” he smiled. “You grew up less wealthy and have worked your whole life to protect the people you love. It’s a movie that makes you believe there’s hope in the world,” he took a long sip of his drink.
Your jaw hung open in shock. “When did you learn so much about The Princess Bride,” you smiled, leaning your head on your hand.
“Garcia made me watch it,” he shrugged, laughing.
“Okay, fine…” You took a sip of your drink, head spinning a little. “So what’s your favorite movie, then, hm?”
He didn’t hesitate before responding, like he had clearly been wanting to talk about it. “L’age D’or,” he spoke with his hands. “It’s a-a seminal surrealist film that was actually co-written by Salvador Dali,” he smiled wide. “It used Dali’s classic absurd style and shocking imagery to critique the bourgeoisie and the Catholic Church. It, uh, was so controversial, actually, that it led to riots and bans,” he continued on about vignettes and taboos, but you just stared at him with a smile, eyes glazed over with pure adoration. Some time after he went on about Luis Buñuel’s other works, you realized you were absolutely whipped for this nerd.
You must have been off in la-la-land, because Reid got a little closer to you to get your attention. “Are you okay?” You snapped up.
“What, yeah, I’m good,” you smiled, smoothing down your slacks. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you smiled nervously, standing up a little too quickly. You stumbled a little, causing Reid to reach out and steady you with his hands. Morgan noticed.
“Hey, Pretty Girl, how many of those have you had?” He gestured to your glass.
“Probably too many,” you smiled half heartedly, realizing you were likely a little more than tipsy. You also started to notice how tightly Spencer’s hands steadied you. “It’s getting late, anyways, I’ll go call a cab,” you started to reach for your phone, but Spencer stepped in.
“Hey, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Pretty Boy is right,” Morgan added. “Someone should take you home.”
“Guys, Im an adult, I don’t need a babysitter,” you laughed, speech slightly slurred. Yeah, you were definitely drunk.
“It’s fine, I can take her home,” Spencer gave a tight-lipped smile to Morgan. He turned to you, ignoring Morgan’s small, concerned smirk. “It’s not safe to go home alone while inebriated,” he took his hands off of you, and you noticed how he flexed them a little. Interesting. You would have to analyze that in the morning, maybe when you weren’t so intoxicated. He pulled his crossbody bag over himself and grabbed your hand, leading you from the booth. “I’m still your boyfriend, for the night,” he smiled.
You couldn’t help but giggle at him.
“Okay, okay, whatever, pretty boy,” your hand tightened around his. The nickname felt different, coming from your lips, he thought. Somehow, it seemed like less of a nickname and more of an observation. He shook it off. “I don’t live far from here, we can walk,” you spoke as you both stepped out of the bar, the biting cold air hitting your skin. You wrapped your arms around Spencer’s, his biceps wrapped up nicely by his cotton sweater. You smiled, and, you couldn’t see it, but so did he.
“Sounds good,” he barely squeaked out, just content to be settling into your touch.
The walk was peaceful, passing by a river or a park, street lights illuminating the sidewalk. They cast a warm glow on the night, shining in Spencer’s eyes, glimmering as he glanced down at you stumbling by his side. The breeze was slightly shielded by Spencer’s towering figure. He relished the feeling of your grip, a sense of security he didn’t know he craved. And, for a moment, it really did feel like you two were a couple.
He helped you up the steps to you apartment. “Such a gentleman,” you joked. He laughed lowly.
“I’m trying to make sure you don’t eat concrete, but if you’d rather I didn’t-”
“I’m kidding, i’m kidding~” you slurred out, pulling out your keys. It danced around the lock a few times, since your vision was blurred, but with some help from your temporary boyfriend, the door pushed open and you were met with the warmth of your apartment. You couldn’t help but sigh, throwing yourself down on the couch. Spencer locked the door behind the two of you, watching you kick off your shoes.
“You should take your contacts out before you fall asleep,” he put his bag down. “Sleeping with them in can increase your risk of infection up to eight times,” he more than scurried over to your kitchen, filling you up a glass of water.
“Speeence, that’s so much work,” you threw a throw blanket around your arms.
“I know, sweetheart, but I don’t want you coming in to work tomorrow with dry eyes and corneal damage,” he set the glass down on the coffee table, kneeling in front of you. You were so tired, you didn’t notice the nickname. He didn’t seem to, either. “Come on, you need to take them out,” he reached for your arm, taking a hold of your wrist. His voice was gentle, laced with a genuine concern, and his touch was reverent. As you looked down to where his sturdy hands held you, you realized, for a moment, how deeply you cared for him.
He knew alcohol made your inhibitions nonexistent, but he didn’t expect you to start crying. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong,” he grabbed the side of your face, wiping a tear off your cheek. His hands were just so soft, it made you tear up more.
“I-I don’t know,” you sobbed out. You really didn’t know.
“Hey, it’s okay, drink this,” he handed you the glass of water. As you took a sip, he moved his hands to your knees, soothing small circles into them. “Why are you sad?”
You sniffled, looking down at his face. His brows knitted together, eyes beaming up into your own. You could have SWORN you saw his heart beating against his sweater. “Because I love you being my boyfriend, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t,” you were a little embarrassed, but you were drunk, so it barely mattered.
Spencer’s heart rate spiked, and a rosy tint started rising in his face. “You don’t mean that,” he soothed, voice just above a whisper.
“I do,” you looked straight into his eyes. They were glazed over in something you couldn’t describe and probably never would.
“According to research, a-about 63% of people have admitted to saying something they regret while intoxicated,” he reasoned out, holding onto your hand.
“Another study found that 54% of those confessions are things they genuinely feel, Spence,” he realized you clearly weren’t out-of-it enough to not hit him with his own statistics. He couldn’t speak, and he really couldn’t think either. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes dancing around your face. His heart jumped up and down as an innocent desire swept through his veins.
Did you really mean that? Was he not the only one who stole small glances in the bullpen? Was he not alone in his heartbreak when watching someone else flirt with you? Surely, this was a symptom of the alcohol. Maybe-
“It’s so hot in here,” you broke the silence, breaking away from him. He swallowed hard, eyes moving hesitantly away from your face.
“I’ll uh, I’ll change your thermostat,” he stood up, moving towards the hall.
“Thank you, Spence,” you lied down, sniffling once more.
He gave up on having you take out your contacts or change your clothes. He just spread another blanket over you, shutting off the lights. He even took the liberty of setting your alarm. Before he left, he heard you mumble a small, “Good night, Spence.”
He smiled, sighing.
“Good night.”
—
“Hey, Pretty Girl, didn’t have too much fun last night, did you?” Morgan laughed. He couldn’t see you rolling your eyes under the sunglasses that shielded you from another migraine.
“Ha-ha,” you set your stuff down. “That’s me laughing at your funny joke.”
“Honestly, I’m shocked you didn’t show up with Boy Genius, this morning,” he crossed his arms. “Leaving together from the bar, going back to your place-“
“Derek, nothing happened,” you huffed. At least, you THOUGHT nothing happened. The events of the last twelve hours were an honest blur.
“Okay, okay, I yield,” he threw up his hands, going back to his own work. You turned to see Spencer walking in at about the same time.
He had replayed your words in his mind about a thousand times, maybe more. Did you really mean it when you said you loved having him as your boyfriend? Maybe you said that to every guy who took you home drunk. He thought going through all the possibilities would make it easier to face you, in the morning. He proved himself wrong.
You pulled off your glasses, standing up. As he sat down at his desk, you leaned over it.
“I wanted to say thank you for last night,” you spoke softly, not out of secret, but out of vulnerability.
“It’s no trouble,” he smiled. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he looked up at you, moving some files around his desk.
“I really, really appreciate it,” you spoke apologetically. “I wasn’t too much… trouble, was I?” You smiled nervously. “When i’m inebriated, my inhibitions tend to…” you trailed off, trying to find the words.
“Disappear?” He smiled, laughing a little.
“Yeah…”
“You weren’t any trouble,” he reassured you, voice steady. “Actually, it was,” he smiled. “It was nice.”
“Nice?” you laughed, feeling your headache melt away at his soft voice.
“Being able to take care of you,” he defended playfully. “I don’t usually get to do that; it’s usually the other way around,” he tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, looking up at your soft smile. “There was something I wanted to talk about, though…” Your heart skipped a beat.
“Crap, did I do something weird last night? I’m so sorry, if I did, I never-“
“No, no, nothing like that,” he laughed nervously. “You uhm…” he grabbed the back of his neck. He wanted to know if you really felt the same way he did. He wanted to know if you would hold his hand like that while sober. He wanted you. “Would you like to, maybe, get together sometime again?” He squeaked out, smiling shyly. “Maybe, this time, without the alcohol?” You smiled at his offer.
“I absolutely would, Spence,” you giggled out, tapping a nail habitually on the screen dividing your desks. He sighed a sigh of relief.
“Cool,” he pursed his lips together in a smile.
“Cool,” you mirrored him subconsciously.
Maybe it wasn’t just for the night.
(‼️💕THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REQUESTED PART TWO. REQUESTS ALWAYS OPEN💕‼️)
#x reader#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid x you
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Please, Please, Please
Summary: Spencer makes a promise he can't keep to Reader, and pays the price. (Requested by Anon!)
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Angst
Content Warning: allusions to reader wearing makeup, unhappy ending
Word Count: 1k
Masterlist
"Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another / I beg you don't embarrass me, motherfucker."
I felt like despite it all, the scene was a little comical.
Half eaten cake plates, all strewn around haphazardly around my apartment, balloons and streamers meant to commence the sunniness of the day, and yet my disposition was anything but.
I’d asked him, a million times over and then some if he was absolutely sure he’d manage to make it. I’d never been the type to demand anything, I was fine with an answer that wasn’t in the affirmative and yet there he went, reassuring me that “I’ll come” and promising he “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Well someone must’ve given Spencer Reid the fucking world, because here we were, party over and Spencer very obviously not here.
I’d stupidly gotten excited over it too, which only added to the growing bubble of resentment I felt. I’d promised my friends that after the last dozen times he’d flaked on shared plans, he’d be here this one time. None of them believed me.
I kept grinning, reassuring them he’d come. I kept imagining my charming boyfriend surprising them all, holding some extravagant gift in his hand and sweeping me into his arms with the other one. He’d compliment my makeup, or maybe he’d kiss me right then and there, and I’d finally be able to introduce him to everyone. I would be able to relish in how lucky I’d gotten to have such a wonderful man in my life that I cared for so deeply. I’d share stories about the memories we’d made, and spend an incredibly special day with an incredibly special person.
That’s what I’d imagined. Instead, my friends and other guests looked on in pity as I watched the front door, for a man who couldn’t care less to commit to any one of our plans. Guests slowly trailed out as the party came to an end, and I was left there, cleaning up the remnants of Spencer’s empty promises to me.
Fuck this.
Finally, I hear the doorbell ring. Fun. He comes half an hour later once the party’s ended. I unlock the door and see him standing there, sheepish and apologetic. There’s a sad little bouquet in his hands, which I assume is there to assuage me from the anger I felt, but it did absolutely nothing to placate me.
“Baby I’m so-“ Spencer starts.
“Save it. I am sick of this.” I say, my nostrils flaring as he stares at me from the doorway.
“Please. It was work. I was- it slipped my mind.” He replies, trying to reason with me.
I felt an angry laugh bubble over me, disbelief clouding my features. “You forgot?! Are you fucking kidding me?”
There’s a pause. “No..? No. I’m not kidding.” He mumbles.
“So much for an eidetic memory.” I think to myself, snarking in my own head at the mess of a man infront of me.
I used to think he’d hang the damn stars in the sky for me.
“I can’t do this anymore.” I say, a firmness in my voice.
Spencer straightens up. He swallows and nods. “Yeah, no.” He sighs, rubbing at his neck. “Let’s table this for tomorrow. How about we go upstairs and just cuddle and forget about today? Yeah?”
He’s speaking with that infuriatingly comforting tone, attempting to step forward, to envelope me in that warmth only he could. As soon as his hand made contact with my shoulder, though, I glare at him, shooting daggers with my eyes before forcibly removing him off, much to his dismay and heartbreak.
I ignore it all.
“No.” I interrupt. “I can’t do this anymore. You. I can’t do you anymore.” I say, gesturing between us.
The moment he processes the words, the heartbreak on his face is immediate, his features falling within a nanosecond. “No. I mean- no. You don’t mean that, you’re angry but please- I love you. You know that.”
“Do I?” I responded, eyebrows raising with a condescending edge to my tone. “When have you once shown up for me the way I show up for you? Love isn’t transactional Spencer, but Jesus. This isn’t love. This isn’t how you treat someone you love.” I say, fuming.
“You know how my job is. You know that.” He says, voice on the verge of breaking.
“And you knew how important this was to me!” I responded. “This hurts, Spencer! I don’t know if you get that, but it does. I feel so- so humiliated!”
“Humiliated?” He asks, softly.
“Humiliated. Crushed. I go on like an absolute ditz for the better part of this week about how excited I was to introduce my boyfriend to everyone, and then he doesn’t show up. Wonderful.” I say, a bite in my tone. “Sad girl at her birthday party. What a fucking cliche.”
“So, what? Is this about your ego?” He fires back, slightly defensive. “I know I fucked up, but- but this is too much. My actions do not warrant this.”
“You know what?” I fire back. “Yeah. Maybe it is my ego. Sue me for believing that maybe, just maybe, I believe I deserve better than someone who can’t bother to commit to a promise.” I say, a bit more resigned now as my statement came to a close. I roll my eyes. “You’re not the relationship I want nor the one I deserve.”
His eyebrows raise, face further conveying the state of distress he was in. He licks his lips, sensing that this conversation is coming to a fast end and shakes his head, trying hard to save face. “Please let me make it up to you. Let me be the person you deserve. You.. You know how important you are to me.”
His eyes are shining. Brown doe eyes glistening with tears and my heart twists at the sight, but his words only aim to wound me further.
I sigh, feeling a prick of tears for the first time this whole conversation. My feelings of anger were slowly replaced with a deeper sadness as I replied.
“No, Spencer. I really don’t.”
I shut the door before I have to endure anymore of his crestfallen expression.
So much for a good birthday.
so woahh. do we do a part 2 ? who knows. sorry about the unhappy ending. anyway, this if my first time doing an angst piece like this! let me know what you think lmfao. any comments, likes, reblogs, ect ect are sooo deeply appreciated <3 thank you for reading!!
#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid angst#doctor spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#criminal minds#dr spencer reid#Spotify
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No Caller ID
*Inspired by Megan Moroney’s “No Caller ID”*
WC: 2.4k
WARNINGS: Angst; place crash / ejection; injuries; fear of death; cursing (I think?); broken heart
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I sigh and check my phone. *No Caller ID* AKA Jake. Hitting ignore, I slide it back into my pocket. Bradley raises an eyebrow, “Who was that?” I roll my eyes, “You know who.” He runs his hand through his hair, “Y/n, you’re my best friend and I can’t believe that I am about to say this… have you spoken to him?” I shake my head, “Why would I? I think he made his decision pretty clear.” Bradley shrugs, “Then why is he still calling you?” I scoff, “To torture me.” Bradley lets out a long sigh, “You coming out tonight?” “Maybe after dinner.” He raises an eyebrow, “James?” I smile proudly, “Date number 4!” “Well, I am happy for you. I’ll let you know when we get to the bar.” We hug and Bradley heads out to his Bronco. I rush to get ready for dinner, praying I don’t get another call from Jake. So far I’ve ignored each one, but he’s chipping away at the walls I worked so hard to build up. I know if I answer and hear that southern drawl, I won’t be able to say no. I’ll go right back to him, the man that broke my heart. After changing my outfit too many times, I jump in my car and head to meet James.
.
.
Dinner was amazing. James is tall, dark, and handsome. He runs a private security firm. He’s so attentive to everything I say and do. But my brain wanders throughout dinner, wondering why I don’t feel a spark. The first couple of dates I told myself it would come with time. As we walk out, he places his hand on the small of my back. Nothing. My phone buzzes and I check it. “That was Bradley, they all just got to the bar. Would you like to come with me?” James smiles, “Lead the way, pretty girl.” We walk up the street to the Hard Deck and I warn James about my friends, “They’re a lot… but they grow on you.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder, “I’m excited to meet them.” The squad is by the pool tables, like always. James grabs us drinks and I introduce him. “Bradley, Nat, Bob, and Javy.” They smile and wave. We start a game of pool and James starts making his way around the group, trying to get to know each person. How am I not head over heels for him? Bradley stands beside me, “He seems nice.” I take a sip of my drink, “He is.” He raises an eyebrow, “So you’re barely smiling because you’re just… so happy?” I smack his arm, “Shut up. I am happy.” I scan the room, absentmindedly. Bradley clears his throat, “That’s like the 4th time you’ve looked for him. He got called out for something tonight. He’s not coming.” I scoff, “I wasn’t… that wasn’t… I don’t care.” Bradley hits a ball in the corner pocket, “You don’t sound too convinced.”
.
.
From the outside, the night seems to be going great. I think everyone likes James and James seems to like everyone. But there is that part of me wishing Jake was here instead. Then another part of me that is angry at that part of me for wanting him here. I stare in the dirty bathroom mirror, “He left you. Move on.” When I walk back out, I stand beside James. He puts an arm around my waist and pulls me in close. NO SPARK. I sigh at myself. My phone rings and I ignore it, assuming it is *No Caller ID*. When it starts ringing again I pull it out and my heart drops. I drop my phone and James picks it up, “Why is the Navy calling you?” Bradley’s head whips towards me as I answer, plugging one ear so I can hear. “Hello, Ms. Y/n Y/l/n? I am calling from Coronado to let you know there has been an incident. We need you to come to the hospital on base as quickly as possible.” I can’t breathe, let alone respond. My drink falls from my hand. I wince at the sound of glass shattering on the floor. The voice on the other end starts speaking again, “Ma’am? It’s about Lieutenant Seresin. You are listed as his emergency contact. Are you able to come to the hospital at Coronado?” “Yes.” I croak out. Bradley grabs my arms, “What’s going on?” I’m shaking and I can’t stop, “It’s… it’s… he’s… there’s been an incident…” James clears his throat, “What’s happening?” I turn to meet his eyes, “It’s… Jake…” Nat grabs my purse and hands it to Bradley, “Get her there, now. We will pay the tabs and head over. Someone call Maverick.” The room around me is spinning and I try to focus on each step as we make our way out the door. James turns to Bradley, “Can you please explain what is happening?” Bradley speaks quickly, “There must have been a crash or an ejection.” James runs his hand through his hair, “Who is Jake? Why is she his emergency contact?” Bradley takes a breath, “Jake and Y/n… Jake is… He must not have changed the paperwork.” A look of sadness washes over James face, but I can’t even respond. I’m sitting in the passenger seat of the Bronco and all I can think of is Jake. Every call I declined. Every text I ignored. James turns to me, “Give me a call when you get home safe.” I nod and try to smile, but it comes out looking pathetic. Bradley jumps in the Bronco and starts the engine.
.
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I run through the hospital hallway, frantically counting the rooms until I find 34. Jake is lying in a bed, looking pale and weak. He turns his head towards the door, “Y/n?” I stand by the edge of the bed, “Jake, what happened?” He winces and touches a spot on his head, “They called you?” I sigh, “Apparently I am still your emergency contact. What happened?” “Ejection. Landed in trees and then fell from those onto rocks.” We sit there for a moment in total silence. His hand is shaking, so I put mine on top of it. “Jake, you’re freezing.” I check the closet, grabbing him a blanket and carefully placing it over him. He looks up, green eyes piercing mine, “I’m sorry that I forgot to change the paperwork.” I shake my head, “Don’t apologize. Did they say how long you have to be here?” He groans, “Just overnight if all my scans come back clear.” The rest of the team files in as I grab another blanket and pillow from the nurses station. Once everyone has had a minute with him, I get comfy on the couch. He looks over at me, “What are you doing?” “You think I would leave you here? All alone?” He shrugs, “I don’t know what to think.” I know exactly what he means. I ignore him for months but here I am now, sleeping on a sofa in his hospital room. I rub my face, “We can talk about it in the morning.” Jake nods, “Goodnight, Y/n.” “Goodnight, Jake.” I quickly pull out my phone, letting James know I’ll be at the hospital tonight. He reads it, but doesn’t respond. I screenshot it and text Bradley.
Me: What does this mean?
His response is almost immediate.
Bradley: That Jake is important to you and now he knows it too.
I turn off my phone and bury my face in the blanket. James is nice. James is sweet. James is successful. And handsome. And ripped. I should want James. But Jake is Jake.
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Sunlight peaks through the paper thin hospital curtains and I rustle awake. Jake is still passed out, thanks to the medicine. I check my phone, still nothing from James. A doctor walks in, waking Jake up. “Hi Lieutenant. We got all of your scans back and you are good to go. Bruised and scraped up, but as long as you take it easy for a couple weeks you will heal up just fine. I’ve got some medicine for you to help with the pain.” Jake thanks them and I grab his bag. He raises an eyebrow, “What’re you doing now?” “Driving you home. You can’t drive with the medicine you’re on.” He nods and goes into the restroom, changing into normal clothes. Jake walks out cautiously, like every step hurts. I take his arm and swing it over my shoulder, giving him some much needed support. “Thanks.” He murmurs as we head to my car (that Bradley and Bob had so graciously dropped off). When we reach his apartment, I get him set up on the couch. I head into the kitchen to grab him water and some food. Tears fill my eyes when I see his fridge. Every photo is still up. Each Polaroid. Each strip photo from the state fair to my friend’s wedding. I set Jake’s things in front of him, sitting down by his feet. He takes a sip of water but his voice is still hoarse, “Can we talk now?” I look down at my hands, “Sure.” Jake takes a deep breath, “You decline every one of my calls, but you show up at the hospital?” The tears are still there from before, but now they’re right on the edge of my waterline. I blink and one falls, “I wanted to answer each one, but I couldn’t.” “Why?” I place my hands in my lap, “You made your choice and it wasn’t me. I was trying to move on.” “Did you?” His green eyes look… hopeful. Another tear falls, “I thought I did, but I don’t think he’s too happy with me right now.” Jake raises an eyebrow and I sigh, “The hospital called when we were out and I shut down. Bradley had to bring me here.” “And he’s upset with you?” I put my elbows on my knees and hide my face in my hands, “I think so. My reaction wasn’t really a reaction you’d have for a friend.” A small smile spreads across his lips, “So you didn’t tell him about me? Worried he’d know he’d never compare?” We both chuckle and I roll my eyes, “They must’ve given you some good medicine, huh?” He laughs so hard that he winces, “But really, why didn’t you tell him about me? Did he meet the rest of the squad?” I nod, “I couldn’t tell him about you. Usually you don’t start off a relationship talking about the person who broke your heart.” Jake’s sighs and reaches for my hand. I let him grab mine, wrapping it in his own calloused one. There’s an immediate current of electricity running between us. He notices my reaction and smirks, “That’s why you couldn’t tell him about me.” A blush colors my cheeks. My phone rings and it’s James. “I have to take this.” I take a deep breath and head into the kitchen. “Hi James.” “Hi Y/n. How is he doing?” I am shocked he asked, “He’s okay. He had to eject and didn’t have a very good landing.” James grunts, “Well I am happy he’s okay. Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” There’s a pause, “There’s no way I can compete with him, right?” I try to find words but I can’t. He sighs, “I can’t say that I’m not disappointed, Y/n. I really like you. Give me a call if you change your mind.” He hangs up and I close my eyes, wondering what the hell I am doing.
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After a few much needed moments to gather myself, I walk back into the living room. Jake raises an eyebrow, “How’s James?” I snap, “He’s gone because he doesn’t think he can compare to you, Jake. Because even though I have tried to move on, you have some hold over me! You left me! You packed your things and left me A NOTE! And here I am, like some lovesick loser, running to your side to help even though you probably don’t even want me here.” Jake’s face falls, “Y/n, I do want you here. When you walked in those doors at the hospital, I couldn’t believe it. I regretted what I did the moment I did it. That’s why I’ve been trying to call you. I never stopped loving you.” I wipe the tear rolling down my cheek, “How can you love someone and treat them that way?” He takes my hand and moves me to sit beside him, “Y/n, I wanted you to have a normal life. I thought if I left, you’d find some guy with an office job that could be there for you everyday. The deployments, the trainings, the danger… I didn’t want that life for you.” “You don’t get to make that decision for me.” His rough hand caresses my cheek, “I’m so sorry that I did.” I sit there in silence, trying to figure out what to make of all of this. As much as I wish I hated Jake, he’s been on my mind since the day he left. I’ve searched for him in every man and all I’ve found is disappointment. Jake’s voice brings me back, “Is it too late for us?” I shake my head as another tear falls, “I think I would’ve waited forever until I found you again. No matter how angry I was. I knew if I answered the phone, you’d break down my walls instantly. I was just scared.” He furrows his brow, “Scared of what?” “Losing you, again.” His green eyes stare into mine, “If you give me another chance, I promise that I will do my best to show you how much I love you every single day.” I smile, “And you’ll rub my neck every night?” He chuckles, “Just like the old days.” I giggle, looking down at our hands intertwined. My smile falls and Jake notices, “What’s wrong?” My voice comes out a whisper, “I thought you were going to die thinking I hated you. I kept telling myself I should’ve just answered the phone.” He pulls me into his chest, “I’m here baby, okay? I’m not going anywhere. I love you so much.” Jake leans in, kissing me gently. His lips are just like I remember, soft and sweet.
#glen powell x reader#jake seresin x you#hangman x reader#hangman x you#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x reader#top gun maverick#hangman fic#top gun
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Surprise| T.N
summary; it’s a surprise with a romantic Theo, and some annoying friends
(sfw, fluff? kissing) loosely based off of an older request, but can’t find it :<
It wasn't strange for your boyfriend to mysteriously wonder off after dinner at the great hall, in fact it was almost nightly when he did whatever it was that he did, you didn't want to assume it was smoking for your own state of mind.
It was a bit stranger this night however, he seemed to hurry off quicker than usual but you decided not to think much of it just continuing on to your dorm as per usual.
Walking into the common room Pansy immediately popped up from her spot on the couch and scurried toward you, "Y/nnn! I have some new muggle makeup I'm dying to try on you, come on" She didn't give you much of a choice, yanking your arm to her dorm "Slow down Pansy I'm coming” You semi protested but still excited
𓆙
"Hm, this makeup is cute but It's missing an outfit. Let's get you out of this awful uniform go properly execute my vision!" Pansy clapped her hands together and ran to her closet, throwing out a black mini skirt and a simple dark green sweater. "I think just the makeup alone is cute" I admired my mascara in the mirror.
"Just change!!" She huffed pushing the clothes into my lap. "Fine but after this I'm running far away from this madness" | exaggerated, walking to the restroom to change. I won't admit it to her face but she was right, this outfit made my makeup look so much better.
I walked out and Pansy immediately smiled "You need to go walk to the black lake miss" She squealed. I raised my eyebrow suspiciously "What exactly do you mean?". You couldn't think of any reason why you'd need to go to the black lake, especially when the sun is setting.
"Trust me Y/n, it's worth it" She winked, once again shoving me out the door. “Fine but just do you know I’m keeping this outfit!”. You contemplated whether or not to actually go but there's no harm in it only feeling a bit weird in your outfit and makeup.
𓆙
As you got closer to leaving the castle Theo jogged up to you and snaked his hand around your waist pulling you in "Amore Mio, you look beautiful" He spun you around, kissing you at the end. "How did I get so lucky, bella"
You looked up at him blushing "You're not so bad yourself you know" winking at him and giving him another kiss. "You know what's weird? Pansy told me to go to the black lake right now that's why I'm even here". Theo looked at me and smirked a bit before he straightened his face "No idea, let's go check yeah?"
He intertwined our hands and we started walking just enjoying the crisp air, feeling perfect with the sun nearly set "It feels amazing out here" You smiled up towards your boyfriend, "Its the perfect weather for something romantic don't you think?" He smiled a bit, and you gave him a confused look.
"What do you mean?" Still confused you waited for him to respond before he turned your body towards the lake revealing a few candles, and a small picnic blanket with your favorite snacks."Solo il meglio per il mio unico e solo"(only the best for my one and only”)
"Go on principessa, I want you to enjoy it all".Theo directed me towards the blanket and we sat down beside eachother. Examining everything he got you noticed a little jewelry box at the bottom of the picnic basket and you picked it up, "Teddy what's this?" You began to open it and he smiled wide without saying a word
Your eyes lit up the second you saw a diamond heart necklace with a pink stone in the middle,"Go on and turn it around too"; Doing as he said you saw T.N engraved on it, the period being a smaller heart. "Thank you so much I love it! I love you!" You lunged onto Theo giving him a big kiss.
"Now turn around so I can get this on that pretty little neck of yours baby." His hands brushed up around your neck and lingered for a moment "Hold you hair for me Amore". His rough hands made their way delicately around your neck with the necklace and clasping it together, turning you back to him with his hand wrapped on your neck "Perfetta." (perfect)
"So was pansy in on this all?" | looked up at him smiling still so happy about all of it "No she just saw me setting up and made me let her help, I'm glad I did though you look gorgeous, La mia bella ragazza"(my beautiful girl). You blushed at all of his compliments and rested your head onto his lap looking up at the stars, theo's hand stated softly stroking your hair and you noticed him staring at you.
You tried ignoring his stares but you couldn't help yourself from blushing and you can tell he caught on by the small chuckle he let out, "Stop starring!!" Your face was getting redder by the second and he wouldn't stop nor stop laughing.
During this process he somehow managed to tackle you onto the blanket and shower your face in small pecks “I".."Will"..”Never".."Stop".."Starring". Each word separated by a kiss making you laugh and attempt to push him off, it was all fun till you two heard laughter from afar.
Both looking up to see Draco, Enzo, Blaise, And Mattheo all fake barfing. Enzo and Mattheo doing fake kissing with themselves, Draco gagging, and Blaise enjoying it all. "Fuck off!" Theo yelled flicking them off annoyed returning swiftly to kissing you disregarding them completely.
"Ew we're still here" Mattheo fake barfed "Not the fuck anymore" Enzo shuddered walking away with the rest of them following. "Annoying pricks"
Theo shook his head, "Now back to my girl" He smiled pulling you in for a kiss.
Let me know if you enjoyed this or not!! I’m honestly good with smut but I need to work on fluff 😭😭 So take this as some of my practice <3
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter smut#slytherin boys#harry potter reader insert#harrypotterboys#smut#fanfic#draco malfoy#tom riddle#slytherin boys react#slytherin boys smut#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theodore nott x you#theo nott x reader#theo nott smut#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott smut#theodore nott#theo nott#mattheo x you#draco x y/n#enzo berkshire x you#tom riddle smut#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott fic
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The Last Mask (04)
Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader
Chapter 04 - Player 001

Story Masterlist
NEXT : Chapter 05
PREV : Chapter 03

After the voting, the guards began distributing lunchboxes. You reached the front of the queue and took one from a pink-clad guard. Stepping out of the line, you noticed player 390 behind you, and the two of you headed toward a quiet corner between the bunk beds on the right side of the hall.
Player 456 was already sitting there, his eyes fixed on the floor. His meal and drink sat untouched beside him. You sighed softly at his distant demeanor.
“You two are friends, right?” you asked player 390, slowing your steps.
“Huh? Me and Gi-hun?” player 390 glanced at player 456. “Oh, yeah. His mother liked me.”
You nodded, assuming they had been friends for a long time. You asked, “Has he always been this distant and quiet?”
“Not at all,” player 390 said, shaking his head. “He was actually really cheerful. Also very loud. He used to laugh at stuff no one else thought was funny. And you know what always set him off?”
Curiosity piqued, you asked, “What?”
Player 390 grinned. “Losing at betting on horses.”
“You two used to bet on horses?”
“Well, we did,” he said with a shrug. “But three years ago, he disappeared. I couldn’t reach him, and his mom was worried sick. She was already physically sick, too. She passed away not long after he vanished.”
“Three years ago? He said he played these games at that time.”
“Yeah, now that you mention it,” player 390 replied. “He should’ve contacted me after winning. I really thought he was dead.”
You lowered your voice. “Well, in a way, he does seem dead yet alive right now.”
Player 390 turned to you with a small smile. “Anyway, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Jung-bae, and that is Gi-hun.”
You smiled back, giving your name in return. By then, the two of you had reached Gi-hun’s spot and sat down on either side of him.
You began unboxing your lunchbox while Jung-bae turned to his long-time friend. “Look at this lunch. It’s just like my mom used to make. What’s in yours?”
Gi-hun didn’t respond. His silence hung heavy, but Jung-bae pressed on.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Jung-bae scooped a spoonful of rice with some fried egg and held it out toward him. “Look, you’ve got to eat. You know what they say, ‘Eat up, even on your deathbed.’ Just do your thinking while you eat, or afterwards. Here.”
Still, Gi-hun ignored him. Jung-bae sighed and pulled the spoon back.
“Forget it then,” he muttered before taking the bite himself. With his mouth full, he added, “This might be for the best. I don’t know about you, but that 20 million wouldn’t even cover my interest. If we play just one more game…”
“Jung-bae,” Gi-hun finally spoke, his tone heavy. He stared solemnly at his friend. “Last time I was here, someone said the exact same thing. And in the end, that person died here.”
Jung-bae chewed quietly, his earlier enthusiasm fading. You watched the two of them, a quiet curiosity growing. What kind of experience had he gone through here? Had he lost friends? The thought that everyone he once knew in these games had died was haunting. But why is he back?
“Help us then, sir.”
The voice drew your attention. You, Jung-bae, and Gi-hun turned to see player 001 approaching your corner. Behind him were player 100 and a few others. Their presence immediately shifted the atmosphere.
“You said you’ve played these games,” commented player 001.
Gi-hun stared at him briefly before lowering his head, as if retreating into himself. You thought he might ignore them altogether until player 001 spoke again.
“I pressed the O button because of you.”
Gi-hun looked up at him, surprised. Player 001 continued, “Honestly, I was scared. I wanted to quit and leave. But you made me think maybe I could play just one more game.”
“Me too,” another player behind him chimed in.
“Same here,” added another.
You glanced at Gi-hun and murmured, “Looks like it’s a bad idea revealing you’re a previous winner.”
Gi-hun turned to you, exhaling through his nose. “I thought it would make everyone understand… that everyone here is doomed to die as long as we stay here.”
You nodded slightly, your gaze shifting back to player 001, who was already looking at you. Feeling a bit awkward, you quickly averted your gaze and pretended not to notice.
“Sir,” player 001 said, leaning closer to Gi-hun. “You know which game’s next, don’t you?”
Several players leaned in, their curiosity evident. Even you couldn’t help but wonder. Jung-bae put down his lunchbox and turned to his friend. “You’re a previous winner, so you should know. What are we playing next?”
Gi-hun avoided eye contact, his voice low as he finally answered. “The second game was Dalgona.”
The bed beside you creaked as someone shifted on it. You glanced over to see player 388 leaning toward your corner. “Dalgona? The sugar candy with a shape you can carve out?”
“That’s right,” Gi-hun replied. “We had to choose one of four shapes and carve it out.”
“Four shapes? Which was the easiest one?” Jung-bae asked quickly.
“Triangle.”
“Which was the hardest one?” Jung-bae pressed further.
“Umbrella.”
“Umbrella?” player 001 scoffed. “Some people chose umbrella? Those unlucky bastards must have bitten the dust.”
At his words, Gi-hun stared at him silently, his expression unreadable. There was something in his gaze that felt like judgment, maybe even offense. You noticed it but chose not to dwell on it, focusing instead on your lunch.
“So that means we should all just pick triangle,” player 388 suggested. “Everyone could probably pass with that.”
“Hush now!” player 100 stepped forward, positioning himself beside player 001. “If all 365 of us survive, the prize money won’t go up at all. Then we’ll have risked our lives again for nothing.”
“That’s true,” a few players behind him agreed, nodding.
Player 100 continued, “Listen. We should probably keep this information to ourselves. What do you say?”
Player 001 stayed quiet, while others eagerly nodded their agreement. But before the discussion could settle, Gi-hun spoke up, his tone firm. “We can’t do that. I’m telling you this to save everyone’s lives.”
“And we don’t even know if the next game will really be Dalgona,” you added, scooping another spoonful of rice.
Gi-hun nodded. “That’s right. If it’s confirmed that the next game is Dalgona, I’m going to tell everyone what I know.”
Player 100 scoffed, rolling his eyes before turning and walking away. The group of players who had followed him quickly trailed behind, leaving the corner quieter and less tense. You exhaled softly, relieved to have the space back.
Player 001, however, remained. He shifted his gaze to you, Jung-bae and Gi-hun.
“So, which shape did you pick?” Jung-bae asked with a curious raise of an eyebrow.
Gi-hun looked at him deadpan, offering no response.
You chuckled softly at the exchange, drawing their attention. Their curious stares settled on you, but you feigned innocence, focusing on your lunch as if you hadn’t been following the conversation.
Still, the words slipped out.
“So, did you choose umbrella?” you asked, your tone playful.
Gi-hun turned his gaze toward you, his expression flat and unimpressed. For a moment, you thought he might actually answer, but then he looked away, ignoring the question entirely. His silence was pointed, as if he’d chosen to pretend he hadn’t heard you at all.
You and Jung-bae exchanged knowing glances, both of you stifling a grin. It wasn’t until player 001 spoke that you realized he had been watching the entire interaction.
“May I ask you something?”
All three of you – you, Gi-hun, and Jung-bae – turned your attention to him. Player 001 moved closer, sitting down on the stairs beside your group. He directed his question straight at Gi-hun.
“Why did you come back to this place?” he asked. “You said you won and made it out. Then you must have received 45.6 billion. Did you spend it all?”
Jung-bae’s eyes widened as realization seemed to hit him. He asked Gi-hun incredulously, “Did you bet on horses again?”
You side-eyed the pair, amused by Jung-bae’s immediate assumption.
Gi-hun shook his head solemnly. “That money doesn’t belong to me. It’s blood money for the people who died here. The same goes for the money up there.”
You couldn’t help but silently agree. Survival guilt had clearly taken a toll on him, and you imagined the weight of it must have been crushing.
“You don’t have to think of it that way,” player 001 said, his voice calm. Gi-hun looked at him in mild astonishment. Player 001 continued, “It’s not like you killed those people, and saving that money won’t bring them back to life.”
Gi-hun leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His tone turned sharp as he replied, “If you had pressed the X, everyone here would’ve changed their mind by tomorrow. All of us would’ve made it out alive.”
Player 001 held his gaze, his expression unyielding. “That’s right. I was the last to press the O button. But there were 186 more people who wanted to stay.”
“And there were also 185 people who wanted to leave,” Gi-hun countered.
You and Jung-bae exchanged glances, sensing that neither man was willing to back down. Their differing perspectives created a palpable tension.
Player 001 broke the silence. “Let’s say I pressed X and we all got a chance to vote again tomorrow. Would everyone have been happy? Do you think a majority of O players would change their mind and thank me?”
Gi-hun’s brow furrowed deeper, his glower showing he was searching for another argument.
Before things could escalate further, Jung-bae intervened. “Enough, you two,” he said. “There’s no point in placing blame now. You know the saying. A widow understands a widower best. Let’s just focus on the game tomorrow, okay?”
He gestured toward Gi-hun and said, “He has won all these games before. If we stick together, we’ll have nothing to worry about.”
“But we can’t always rely on him,” you interjected. “He doesn’t need more pressure from everyone expecting too much from him.”
Gi-hun and player 001 both turned to you, their gazes quiet but intent.
Jung-bae nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right, but he has the experience. Any advice he has will help.”
“He’s right,” another voice chimed in. The four of you turned to see player 388, who had been eavesdropping from his bed. He hopped down and stood close. “We have to stick together. I’ll be with you all the way.”
Jung-bae frowned in skepticism. “Who are you?”
The man came to a stop in front of you all and gave a quick bow. “I’m Dae-ho. Kang Dae-ho.”
Dae-ho extended his hand to Jung-bae, a clear offer for a handshake. Jung-bae didn’t take it, instead replying dryly, “Oh, Dae-ho. Have we met?”
Dae-ho’s expression faltered briefly before he glanced at player 001, who kept his head low, and then at Gi-hun, who looked at him with indifference. Finally, his gaze landed on you. Seeing no skepticism in your expression, he extended his hand toward you.
You blinked in surprise but took his hand. He clasped yours in both of his, nodding gratefully as you introduced yourself. You could feel the others watching the interaction closely. After a moment, he let go of your hand, looking slightly more at ease.
“Earlier during the game, Mr. 456 here was like,” Dae-ho began, pausing to mimic Gi-hun’s urgent warning style from the first game. “Freeze! And I became his fan.”
You grinned at his enthusiasm while Gi-hun turned his gaze away, clearly embarrassed. Undeterred, Dae-ho continued eagerly, “I’d like to get to know you all better. Please give me a chance!”
Jung-bae stood suddenly as Dae-ho mimicked Gi-hun again. “Freeze! That was so cool!”
You chuckled softly, but the sound caught Gi-hun’s attention. He glanced at you with a look that felt half-judgmental before shifting his gaze elsewhere.
“Hang on,” Jung-bae said abruptly, grabbing Dae-ho’s sleeve and pulling it upward to reveal an ROKMC tattoo. Dae-ho looked at him, confused, as Jung-bae asked, “You were in the Marines?”
“Yes, why?”
“Class number?” Jung-bae countered, his tone sharp.
Dae-ho gave him a once-over before letting out a wheeze of amusement.
“Oh, you’re laughing?” Jung-bae challenged, unzipping his jacket and pulling up his sleeve. He revealed the same ROKMC tattoo on his forearm.
Dae-ho’s amusement vanished. He stepped back, clearly caught off guard, as Jung-bae stood tall, even combing his hair back dramatically with his fingers.
Suddenly, Dae-ho snapped into a salute, raising his voice. “Victory at all costs! I was in Class 1140, sir!”
Jung-bae saluted back, his grin wide. “At ease! ‘Dae-ho.’ I knew there was something about you.”
The sudden burst of military camaraderie caught you off guard. Are they really going all military here? Their loud banter is starting to draw attention to your corner.
“Do Marines get tattoos like that?” you asked to no one in particular, genuinely curious.
Player 001, who had been observing quietly, spoke up. “It’s not officially required. But for many in the ROKMC, getting the tattoo is a tradition.”
You nodded your head in understanding. “Oh.”
Dae-ho, still stiff in his stance, screamed, “Yes, sir!”
Jung-bae laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Class 746 here. Let’s make a good team.”
“I won’t let you down, sir!” Dae-ho barked back, standing straighter.
Jung-bae guffawed, patting him on the shoulder again, earning another resounding “yes, sir!” from Dae-ho. The exchange repeated a few more times, each louder than the last. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the spectacle, while Gi-hun watched them with an expression that screamed secondhand embarrassment.
You turned away from the comedic display of Jung-bae and Dae-ho, who seemed more like overenthusiastic military recruits than grown men, and began cleaning up your lunchbox. As you took a sip from your water bottle, you noticed player 001 shifting slightly in his seat nearby.
Lowering the bottle, you glanced over and asked casually, “Have you eaten already?”
Player 001 looked at you for a moment before a warm smile crossed his face. “Yes, I have.”
You nodded, returning his smile. “Good. The food they prepared for us was worth it. It’s a waste not to eat it.”
Turning toward Gi-hun, you pointedly glanced at his untouched lunchbox. “You need to eat, sir. It’s better to mull things over with a full stomach.”
Gi-hun hesitated, meeting your gaze briefly before nodding. He opened his lunchbox without a word and began to eat.
After a brief pause, you leaned slightly closer to player 001, lowering your voice. “By the way, do you know where the ladies’ restroom is?”
Player 001 gestured toward the door on the right side of the main double doors. “That one there. The other door is for the men.”
“Oh, thanks. Wouldn’t want to get lost and get shot by the guards.”
Player 001’s smile widened. “I’m sure the guards would bring you back here if you are lost.”
You chuckled softly. “That’s comforting to know.”
The exchange put you slightly more at ease, but player 001’s expression soon turned contemplative. “If you don’t mind me asking… why did you come here?”
Your smile faltered for a moment, and you caught Gi-hun turning his head just slightly, clearly eavesdropping. Straightening your posture, you replied with a practiced smile, “I needed the money.”
Player 001 nodded slowly, his gaze steady. “That’s all of us. But if I may say… I’m surprised. A lady like you shouldn’t have to bear the burden of crippling debt.”
You looked away, lowering your gaze to the floor. The practiced calm you had maintained slipped, replaced by a somber expression as his words hit a nerve.
Noticing your change in demeanor, player 001 spoke gently. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”
You shook your head and managed a faint smile.
“It’s fine,” you replied softly. Your gaze stayed on the floor as you added, “The debts are my parents’, actually.”
Player 001 stared at you, his smile fading into something more solemn. Gi-hun, who had been eavesdropping, remained silent, his expression unreadable.
“You motherfucker!”
The shout shattered the quiet, pulling your attention to the other side of the dormitory. A commotion had broken out. MG Coin (player 333) was brawling on the floor with Thanos and his friend (player 124).
With player 124’s help, Thanos delivered a hard punch to player 333. Even as player 333 lay injured on the floor, they didn’t stop. Kicks rained down on him mercilessly while gasps of horror rippled through the watching crowd.
“I lost all that money because of you, fucker,” Thanos snarled, punctuating his words with another vicious kick. “Be grateful and fucking eat what you’re given!”
Despite the violence, no one moved. Players stayed rooted in place, their expressions a mix of fear and disgust. Jung-bae and Dae-ho, sleeves still rolled up with their tattoos visible, simply watched, making no move to intervene.
You sighed in frustration. “Good thing I finished eating. Still, ganging up on him is just unfair.”
Before you could consider stepping in, player 001 stood up. He walked past Jung-bae and Dae-ho with measured steps, heading straight toward the chaos. You rose from your seat instinctively, a mix of concern and suspense building. Gi-hun stood as well, his eyes narrowing as he watched the scene unfold.
“Boys, what are you doing in the middle of mealtime?” player 001’s voice carried as he approached Thanos and player 124. “No fights during mealtime. There are elders present. Mind your manners.”
Thanos and player 124 paused, letting go of player 333. They turned toward player 001, whose calm demeanor seemed to unnerve them. “And two against one? Aren’t you embarrassed?”
Thanos sneered and stepped closer, his posture challenging. “You’re lecturing me when you ended up in this shithole too? Uncle, stop running your mouth and take care of your own damn kids.”
The dormitory fell silent as everyone watched. Player 001 silently asked, “What did you say?”
Thanos leaned in, his tone mocking. “I said save the lecture for your own damn kid—”
Player 001’s hand shot out, gripping Thanos by the neck. The hold wasn’t a full choke, but his thumb pressed into a precise spot that made Thanos stiffen immediately. The calculated grip made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. And it looked painful.
Thanos’ hands clawed at player 001’s arm, but the older man’s hold didn’t waver. His bravado crumbled under the pressure of the unyielding grip.
Player 124 advanced toward them. “You son of a—”
Before he could finish, player 001 swiftly kicked his shin. Player 124 let out a brief scream, immediately grasping his leg in pain. Without missing a beat, player 001 delivered another kick, sending him sprawling to the floor, clutching his injured shin. The speed of it all left several players gasping in shock.
Player 001 released Thanos’ neck, standing still in the same spot, his posture calm and steady. It was a stark contrast to Thanos and his friend who were already heaving in pain, struggling to recover.
Just as you thought it was over, Thanos stubbornly got up and advanced toward player 001 again. Raising his arm for a punch, he barely got the chance before player 001 landed a precise blow to his chest in the blink of an eye. Thanos doubled over, clutching his chest in visible pain.
“Wait,” Thanos choked out, holding up a hand in surrender.
Player 001, unfazed, grabbed Thanos’ outstretched hand and twisted it. With a calculated move, he brought Thanos down to the floor and delivered two sharp kicks to his chest, sending him sprawling.
Before Thanos could fully process what was happening, player 001 stood over him, gripping his neck once again. His free hand rose, forming a fist poised to strike. The dormitory’s atmosphere turned chillingly tense as everyone held their breath.
“I’m sorry,” Thanos choked out, his voice barely audible.
Player 001’s face remained emotionless, cold and detached. His grip tightened momentarily, making Thanos gasp for air. His purple hair seemed to match the growing discoloration of his face as the players around them watched in stunned silence.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, player 001 let him go. Calmly, he stood up as if nothing had happened. A smattering of applause broke out, quickly growing into full-on clapping and cheers.
“You’re the man!”
“Nice!”
You joined in, clapping in genuine awe of his combat prowess. He had taken down two bullies without breaking a sweat. What is he, really? He must be an expert at something combat-related.
Player 001 looked surprised by the positive reaction. With a small, appreciative nod and a faint smile, he smoothed his hair, clearly a bit embarrassed and shy by the attention.
As he walked back toward your corner, where you and the others were still clapping, Jung-bae leaned over. “What is he?”
“Is he an ex-Marine too?” Dae-ho asked.
You smirked and pointedly remarked, “If he is, you two might want to roll your sleeves down. He actually stopped the bullies, not the tattoos.”
Jung-bae and Dae-ho exchanged sheepish glances before simultaneously fixing their sleeves. They continued clapping enthusiastically for player 001, pretending they hadn’t been called out.
Player 001 returned to your corner, his calm demeanor intact despite the tension moments ago. You, Jung-bae, and Dae-ho couldn’t help but look at him with a mix of amazement and curiosity.
“Sir, that was incredible,” Jung-bae said, his voice tinged with admiration. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”
Dae-ho chimed in, “Seriously, the way you took them down without even breaking a sweat. Are you some kind of martial artist or what?”
Player 001 gave a wide smile. “Let’s just say I’ve picked up a thing or two along the way.”
Jung-bae exchanged a look with Dae-ho, both nodding as if they had just decided player 001 was the coolest person they’d ever met.
“Man of mystery,” Dae-ho muttered appreciatively.
You leaned forward slightly, your gentle tone more concerned. “But you’re not hurt at all, right? You seemed upset.”
Player 001 turned to you and his smile softened. “Not at all. I left and came back the same.”
His composed response only added to the awe emanating from Jung-bae and Dae-ho, who continued to marvel at him. The brief chaos from earlier now felt like a distant memory.
You couldn’t help but grin as you turned to player 001. “You know, I just told them to roll their sleeves down because you were the one who stopped the bullies, not those tattoos.”
Player 001 let out a steady laugh, the sound warm and disarming. Jung-bae and Dae-ho immediately looked embarrassed, glancing at each other before quickly shifting their attention elsewhere.
“Hey, the tattoos still count for something,” Jung-bae muttered, rolling his sleeve back up halfway just to save face.
“Sure they do,” you replied, still smiling as Dae-ho tried to look nonchalant.
The four of you sat back down at the corner. Gi-hun, who had stayed quiet throughout the commotion, gave player 001 a subtle nod of acknowledgment. It wasn’t much, but it felt like a truce of sorts after their earlier disagreement.
Dae-ho, ever the chatterbox, broke the quiet. “So, Mr. 001, you’ve got to teach us some of those moves. What was that neck grip thing? Looked like something out of a spy movie.”
Player 001 gave a faint smile, shaking his head. “It’s just a simple technique. Nothing fancy.”
“Nothing fancy?” Jung-bae scoffed. “You had that guy gasping for air and looking like he was about to cry. If that’s simple, I’d hate to see complicated.”
“I want to learn how to do that too,” you added. “It would be useful to protect myself out there.”
Player 001 replied with a widening smile. “Sure, I could teach you. We just have to focus on winning the next game and leave this place for good. I’ll teach once we’re out of here.”
“Sir, don’t forget about me though,” said Dae-ho. “I want to learn that too.”
Jung-bae chimed in, “Me too.”
Player 001 nodded, “Got it. I’ll teach you three, then.”
The conversation drifted into lighter topics, with Dae-ho recounting an overly dramatic story from his military days that had Jung-bae laughing and shaking his head. Gi-hun stayed mostly quiet, his focus shifting between the group and the room at large.

NEXT : Chapter 05
PREV : Chapter 03
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