#if these meds are even the ones but i have high hopes cause they work for mom! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

23victoria · 5 months ago

Text

off the table

pairings: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

word count: 13k

warnings: SMUT (wrap it before you tap it), toxic relationship, cheating, miscommunication, cussing, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, mentions of educational burnout, semi-double pov

authors note: listen to off the table by ariana grande ft. the weeknd 13k words is insane to me, this is the most i’ve ever wrote, i had so much fun writing this honestly, i pray it’s not shit…cause that would be embarrassing, ignore any typos please, also a little self indulgent (not all the way, trust)okay i’m done, hope you enjoy!!

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f1 masterlist 1k celebration

You met Lewis when you were just seven years old. It was a typical summer day, the sun high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the park. You were new to the neighborhood, shy and unsure of yourself, clutching the handles of your bike as if it were your lifeline. The other kids seemed so confident, racing around on their bikes, laughing and shouting as they sped down the dirt paths. You stood on the sidelines, watching, wishing you could join in but not quite brave enough to take the first step.

That's when you noticed him—a boy with wild curls and a bright smile, his bike skidding to a stop in front of you. "Hey, do you want to race?" he asked, his voice filled with enthusiasm. You hesitated, glancing down at your bike, then back at him. He must have sensed your uncertainty because he grinned and added, "I'll go easy on you, I promise."

Something about his easy confidence made you smile, and before you knew it, you were racing side by side with him, the wind whipping through your hair as you pedaled as fast as you could. You didn't win—Lewis was too fast for that—but it didn't matter. For the first time since moving, you felt like you belonged.

From that day on, you and Lewis were inseparable. Every afternoon after school, you'd meet at the park, racing your bikes until the sun dipped below the horizon. He told you about his love for karting, his eyes lighting up as he described the thrill of speeding around the track, the roar of the engine in his ears. You didn't understand it entirely—karts seemed like a bigger, scarier version of your bike—but you loved listening to him talk about it, the way his passion seemed to pour out of him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As the years went by, your friendship with Lewis deepened. You became each other's confidants, sharing your dreams and fears late into the night. You told him about your dream of becoming a doctor, and he listened with the same intensity he showed on the track. In return, he confided in you about his aspirations in racing, how he wanted to be the best, to make his family proud.

There were moments, though, where something unspoken lingered between you—moments where his gaze seemed to linger a little too long, where his touch seemed a little too tender. But you never noticed, too caught up in your own world to see the way his feelings for you were evolving.

One day, when you were both fourteen, you were sitting in your room, studying for a biology test. Lewis had come over to help you with your homework, but you ended up talking about everything except schoolwork. "Do you ever think about the future?" you asked, lying on your bed with a textbook open in front of you.

"All the time," he admitted, glancing over at you. "I think about racing, where I'll be, who I'll be with."

You smiled, oblivious to the hint of something more in his words. "I bet you'll be famous," you teased, nudging him playfully. "I'll be able to say I knew you before you were cool."

He laughed, but there was a wistfulness in his eyes. "What about you? Where do you see yourself?"

You shrugged, turning your attention back to your textbook. "Hopefully in med school, maybe even Harvard if I can get in. Saving lives and all that."

There was a pause, and when you looked back at him, you saw something flicker in his expression, something you couldn't quite place. But before you could ask, he smiled and said, "You'll get in. I know you will."

You didn't know it then, but that was one of the many moments where he almost told you how he felt. But your casual mention of Harvard, of a future that seemed so far from his own, made him hesitate. How could he confess his feelings when it seemed like your dreams were leading you in opposite directions?

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

When you were sixteen, Lewis's karting career began to take off even more. He was spending more time at the track, traveling for races, and you were busy with school. But despite the distance, you stayed close, texting each other daily, finding time to hang out whenever he was home.

One evening, after one of his races, he invited you to a celebratory dinner with his family. You were honored, knowing how important these moments were to him. As you sat across from him at the table, laughing and talking with his family, you felt a warmth in your chest, a sense of belonging that you couldn't quite explain.

After dinner, as you walked back to your car, Lewis caught your arm, stopping you. "Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his voice unusually serious.

"Of course," you replied, a little surprised by his tone. You turned to face him, and for a moment, you just stood there, looking at each other in the dim light of the streetlamp.

He seemed to struggle with his words, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. "I've been meaning to tell you something," he began, his voice low. "It's just... we've known each other for so long, and you've always been there for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, completely missing the deeper meaning behind them. "You're my best friend, Lewis. I'll always be there for you, no matter what."

He looked down, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "Yeah, best friends," he repeated, his voice softer now. "But what if—"

Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, interrupting the moment. You pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and saw a text from a boy in your class that you'd been talking to. "Sorry, it's just Josh," you said, quickly typing a response.

When you looked back up, Lewis's expression had shifted, the vulnerability from moments before gone. "No worries," he said, forcing a smile. "I just wanted to say that I'm really proud of you. For everything."

You felt a pang of guilt, sensing that you had missed something important, but you pushed it aside, giving him a quick hug. "Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot."

As you drove home that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Meanwhile, Lewis watched you leave, the words he had almost said hanging heavy in the air. He had been so close to telling you how he felt, but your mention of Josh had stopped him. How could he compete with someone who was already making you smile in ways he only dreamed of?

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As you started high school, you started dating Josh. He was sweet, attentive, and everything you thought you wanted in a boyfriend. Lewis, ever the supportive friend, smiled and encouraged you, even as his heart ached every time he saw you with someone else.

He watched from the sidelines as your relationship with Josh blossomed, always there to lend a listening ear when things got tough. And when Josh broke your heart, leaving you devastated just before prom, Lewis was the first person you called.

"I can't believe he did this," you sobbed into the phone, your voice thick with tears.

"I'll be right there," Lewis replied without hesitation. Within minutes, he was at your door, pulling you into a comforting embrace. He held you as you cried, his hand gently stroking your hair, murmuring soothing words into your ear.

"You deserve so much better," he whispered, his heart breaking alongside yours. "Anyone who can't see how amazing you are doesn't deserve you."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Why can't all guys be like you, Lewis?"

He smiled sadly, wishing he could tell you that he would never hurt you the way Josh did, that he would cherish you and make you feel loved every day. But instead, he just said, "Because they're not smart enough to realize what they have."

In that moment, you realized how much you had taken Lewis for granted, how he had always been there for you, even when you didn't deserve it. But you still didn't see the depth of his feelings for you, too caught up in your own heartbreak to notice the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

When it came time to apply for college, you were determined to go to the one with the best medical program, whether it was Harvard, Yale, Duke, or John Hopkins. You had worked so hard throughout high school, dedicating countless hours to your studies, extracurriculars, and volunteer work. It was your dream, and you weren't going to let anything stand in your way.

Lewis, on the other hand, was focused on his racing career. He had already been scouted by several teams, and it was clear that his future was on the track. You were both proud of each other's accomplishments, but there was an unspoken tension between you as the reality of your diverging paths began to sink in.

The day you received your acceptance letter from Harvard was bittersweet. You were overjoyed to have achieved your dream, but the thought of leaving Lewis behind filled you with a sense of loss. You had always imagined that you would be there for each other through everything, but now it seemed like your lives were pulling you in different directions.

"I got in," you told Lewis when you saw him later that day, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and sadness.

He smiled, pulling you into a tight hug. "I knew you would," he said, his voice proud but tinged with something else. "You're going to do amazing things, Y/N/N."

"But I'll miss you," you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of being so far away from him.

"I'll miss you too," he replied, his voice quiet. "But we'll stay in touch, right? It's not like we're never going to see each other again."

You nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Of course. We'll text and call all the time. And I'll visit whenever I can."

He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes that you couldn't ignore. "Yeah, we'll make it work."

As the summer passed, you and Lewis spent as much time together as possible, trying to make the most of your remaining days before you both went off to pursue your dreams. There were moments of laughter and joy, but also moments of quiet reflection, as you both grappled with the reality of what was to come.

On your last night before leaving for college, you and Lewis sat on the roof of his house, staring up at the stars. It was a tradition you had started when you were kids, a way to escape the world and just be together in the silence of the night.

"I'm really going to miss this," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," he replied, his gaze fixed on the sky.

You turned to look at him, your heart heavy with a mix of emotions. "Promise me we'll stay close, no matter what."

He finally looked at you, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "I promise," he said, his voice steady and sincere.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Lewis."

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You'll never have to find out," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination.

As you sat there together, the weight of unspoken words hung between you, but neither of you said anything more. There was a part of Lewis that wanted to tell you everything—to confess his feelings, to ask you to stay—but he knew it wouldn't be fair. You had your own dreams to chase, and he couldn't ask you to give them up for him.

So instead, he kept his promise, supporting you from afar as you embarked on the next chapter of your life. You texted and called as often as you could, sharing stories of your experiences at Harvard, while he told you about his progress in racing. The distance was hard, but you both did your best to stay connected.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

College was everything you had hoped it would be. You excelled in your classes, made new friends, and even started dating again. But no matter how busy you were, there was always a part of you that missed Lewis. You missed the way he made you laugh, the way he could always make you feel better no matter what was going on in your life.

You visited home during the holidays, and every time you saw Lewis, it was like no time had passed at all. You fell back into your old routines, spending hours talking and laughing, as if the distance between you had never existed.

But there were moments when you noticed a change in him—moments when he seemed quieter, more reserved. You didn't think much of it at first, chalking it up to the stress of his racing career. But as time went on, you began to wonder if there was something more.

One night, during your winter break, you and Lewis went for a drive, just like you used to do when you were younger. The streets were quiet, the city lights reflecting off the snow-covered ground. You talked about everything and nothing, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.

As you drove past your old high school, memories flooded back, and you found yourself laughing at the thought of how much had changed since then. "Can you believe it's been four years since we graduated?" you asked, glancing over at Lewis.

He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, it's crazy how time flies."

You sighed, your smile fading as you thought about how much your lives had diverged since high school. "Do you ever miss the way things used to be?" you asked, your voice filled with a touch of nostalgia.

"All the time," he admitted, his voice quiet.

There was a moment of silence as you both reflected on the past, and for a brief second, you thought you saw something in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. But before you could say anything, he turned away, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

"I've been thinking," he began, his voice hesitant, "about how different our lives are now. You're at college, I'm racing in F2... it's like we're living in two separate worlds."

You frowned, unsure of where he was going with this. "But we're still friends, Lewis. That hasn't changed."

"I know," he said quickly, "but sometimes I wonder if..." He trailed off, as if struggling to find the right words.

"If what?" you prompted, your heart pounding in your chest.

He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

You wanted to push him, to ask him what he was really thinking, but something in his tone made you stop. Instead, you just nodded, deciding to let it go.

As the night wore on, you found yourself growing more and more frustrated with your inability to understand what was going on with Lewis. You had always been able to read him like a book, but now it felt like there was a wall between you, something unspoken that neither of you could break through.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

The next few years passed in a blur of classes, exams, and racing events. You and Lewis remained close, but the distance between you became more pronounced as time went on. You both pursued your dreams with a single-minded determination, but in the process, you began to drift further apart.

There were moments when you wondered if you had made the right choice, if maybe you should have stayed closer to home, closer to Lewis. But every time you thought about it, you pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that you were doing what you were meant to do.

Lewis, on the other hand, struggled with his feelings for you more than ever. He watched from afar as you continued to excel in your studies, as you dated other people, as you lived a life that seemed so different from his own. But he never stopped caring about you, never stopped being there for you whenever you needed him.

And though he never told you, he knew deep down that he would always love you, even if you never felt the same way about him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Your life took a different turn when you least expected it. You had always been focused, driven, and passionate about becoming a doctor. The years of studying, the late nights in the library, the relentless pursuit of knowledge—it all felt like it was leading you toward a future you had envisioned since childhood. But as time went on, something inside you began to shift.

It started subtly at first, a creeping sense of exhaustion that no amount of sleep seemed to cure. The long hours in the lab, the constant pressure to excel, the never-ending cycle of exams and practicals—it all began to weigh on you. You could feel the burnout setting in, the stress gnawing away at your enthusiasm. You told yourself that it was normal, that every med student went through this phase, that it was just another hurdle to overcome. But deep down, you knew something was wrong.

Your friends noticed it too. They saw the dark circles under your eyes, the way you seemed to retreat into yourself, the way your laughter had become rare, replaced by a quiet, pervasive anxiety. One of your closest friends at the time, a fellow student who had always been attuned to your moods, suggested something radical: "Why don't you try something different for a while? Just to take the pressure off."

You were taken aback by the suggestion. "Like what?" you asked, genuinely curious. You couldn't imagine stepping away from your studies, even for a moment. But the exhaustion was so overwhelming that you were willing to entertain any idea that might offer some relief.

"Have you ever thought about acting?" your friend asked, a mischievous smile playing on their lips. "You've always had a flair for drama, and you're great at expressing yourself. It could be fun, and who knows? It might help you recharge."

The idea was so out of left field that you laughed. Acting? You had never seriously considered it. Sure, you had participated in a few school plays when you were younger, but it was always just for fun, never something you thought of as a career. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea intrigued you. Maybe stepping away from the rigid structure of medical school could be exactly what you needed. Maybe exploring a different side of yourself could reignite the passion that had been dwindling for medicine.

On a whim, you decided to give it a try. You signed up for an acting workshop, just to see if you had any talent or interest in it. To your surprise, you loved it. The freedom of expression, the creativity, the way you could lose yourself in a character and forget about the stress of your real life—it was exhilarating. For the first time in months, you felt genuinely happy, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Encouraged by the positive experience, you started attending more workshops, getting involved in local theater productions, and even taking a few acting classes on the side. It was all just for fun at first, a way to balance out the intensity of your studies. But the more you immersed yourself in the world of acting, the more you realized how much you enjoyed it.

Then came the fateful day when everything changed. One of your acting instructors, who had been impressed by your natural talent, mentioned that a casting call was being held for a new movie. It was a big-budget production, with a well-known director at the helm, and they were looking for fresh faces to fill the lead roles. Your instructor encouraged you to audition, insisting that you had the potential to land the part.

At first, you hesitated. The idea of auditioning for a major film seemed absurd. You were a med student, not a professional actress. But something inside you, that same part that had pushed you to explore acting in the first place, urged you to go for it. What did you have to lose?

So, with a mix of nerves and excitement, you prepared for the audition. You worked on your lines, practiced your delivery, and did your best to channel the emotions of the character you were auditioning for. The day of the audition arrived, and you walked into the casting room with your heart pounding in your chest.

To your amazement, the audition went better than you could have imagined. You felt a connection with the character, a sense of ease in front of the camera that surprised even you. The casting directors seemed impressed, and you left the audition feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and disbelief.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

A few weeks later, you received the call that would change your life. You had landed the lead role in the movie. You couldn't believe it. This was supposed to be a temporary distraction, a way to relieve stress—not the start of a new career. But here you were, about to step into the world of professional acting.

The decision to accept the role was not an easy one. It meant putting your medical studies on hold, something that terrified you. You had worked so hard to get where you were, and the thought of stepping away felt like abandoning a part of yourself. But there was also a part of you that was excited, that saw this as an incredible opportunity, a chance to do something completely different.

You’re pacing your dorm apartment, the walls suddenly feeling too close, the air too thick. You can’t breathe. The call is stuck in your mind, you’ve been offered the lead role in a major movie—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But the timing couldn’t be worse. You’re just a year away from completing your medical degree. A year. After all the sleepless nights, endless studying, and grueling rotations, it’s all so close to paying off. And yet…

You drop onto your bed, head in your hands, and your thoughts spiral out of control. What if you’re making a mistake? What if you take the role and regret it? What if you stay in medicine and never know what could have been? You feel your chest tightening, panic creeping in. You need to talk to someone. You need to talk to him.

Without thinking, you reach for your phone and press Lewis’s contact. As the phone rings, you silently beg for him to pick up. “Please, Lewis, pick up. Please, please, please…”

The call connects, and you hear a groggy voice on the other end. “Y/N/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice is laced with concern, but there’s a hint of sleep still clinging to his words.

Your heart drops. You forgot. You completely forgot that he’s in Belgium for the race at Spa. You glance at the clock, realizing just how late it is over there. “Oh my God, Lewis, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I completely forgot about the time difference and your race tomorrow…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says, his voice softening. “I’m awake now. Are you alright? What’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words tumble out in a rush. “I got offered the lead in a major movie, and I don’t know if I should take it. I’m just a year away from finishing med school, and it feels insane to stop now. But at the same time, this is such a huge opportunity, and I’m spiraling, and you were the first person I thought of to call.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and you can almost hear him processing what you’ve just said. “Lead role in a movie? Acting? You’re an actress? When did this happen?”

You blink, realizing you’ve never told him. Your heart sinks a little further. “Oh… yeah, I guess we haven’t talked in a while, have we?”

Silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unspoken words. “Yeah,” he finally says, the word carrying more weight than it should. “We haven’t.”

You clear your throat, trying to push past the awkwardness. “I was feeling burned out with all the studying, and a friend suggested I try something new to take my mind off it. I took an acting class, just for fun, but then one class turned into two, and before I knew it, I was hooked. And now… now I’m being offered a lead role in a movie. Crazy, right? How things change so fast…”

He exhales slowly, as if trying to absorb everything you’ve just told him. “Yeah… yeah, it is crazy.” There’s another pause, but this time it feels different—more contemplative. “Look, Y/N/N, I know this is a huge decision, and it’s not one you can take lightly. But I also know you. You’re not someone who backs down from a challenge. You’ve got this incredible intuition, this ability to know what’s right for you, even if it’s terrifying. If acting is something that excites you, something that makes you feel alive, then maybe it’s worth exploring. You’re not giving up on medicine; you’re just… taking a detour. Following your heart. And whatever you decide, I’ll be here to support you. I believe in you.”

His words wash over you, calming the storm inside your mind. You feel a warmth spread through your chest, easing the tightness that had gripped you just moments before. “Thank you, Lewis. I really needed to hear that.”

“Of course,” he replies softly. “I’m glad I could help.”

You smile, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Good luck with your race tomorrow. I’m sorry again for disturbing you.”

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice tinged with affection. “I’m always here for you, no matter what. And thanks—I’ll need that luck.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, the kind that only exists between people who’ve known each other for years. You can almost picture him on the other end of the line, smiling that soft, reassuring smile of his.

“It’s really good to hear your voice,” you say, your tone almost wistful.

“Yeah,” he echoes, a hint of something unspoken in his voice. “It is.”

You close your eyes, letting the moment linger, not wanting it to end. But eventually, you know it must. “Goodnight, Lewis.”

“Goodnight, Y/N/N.”

The call ends, and you’re left in the quiet of your dorm room, the weight of the decision still pressing on you, but somehow, it feels a little lighter now. You sit on your bed, staring at the wall, thinking about the offer, about your career, but mostly about him—about how much you miss him, miss his voice, his presence in your life.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

In the end, you decided to take the leap. You paused your medical studies, packed your bags, and flew out to the film's shooting location. It was a whirlwind experience—long hours on set, learning the ins and outs of the industry, working alongside seasoned actors who had been doing this for years. It was challenging, but also incredibly rewarding. You discovered a new side of yourself, a side that loved the thrill of performing, the camaraderie of the cast and crew, the magic of bringing a story to life on screen.

When the movie was released, it became an unexpected hit. Critics praised your performance, calling you a "rising star" and predicting a bright future for you in the industry. Offers for other roles began to pour in, and before you knew it, you were being whisked off to auditions, meetings with agents, and photo shoots for magazines. Your life had completely changed, and you were caught up in the whirlwind of it all.

As your acting career took off, your medical aspirations took a backseat. You told yourself it was just temporary, that you would return to your studies once things settled down. But the more time you spent in the acting world, the more you realized how much you loved it. Acting allowed you to explore different aspects of your personality, to tell stories that resonated with people, to connect with audiences in a way that was deeply fulfilling.

But with success came new challenges. The pressure to maintain your newfound fame, the scrutiny from the media, the constant demands on your time—it was all overwhelming. There were moments when you questioned whether you had made the right choice, moments when you longed for the stability and sense of purpose that medicine had provided. But then you would step onto a set, feel the rush of excitement as the cameras rolled, and you would remember why you had chosen this path.

You also had to navigate the complexities of your relationships. Some of your friends and family were supportive, thrilled to see you succeeding in a new field. But others were skeptical, worried that you were throwing away years of hard work for a career that was far less stable and predictable. You had long conversations with your parents, trying to reassure them that you hadn't abandoned your dreams of becoming a doctor, that you were just exploring a different side of yourself for now.

And then there was Lewis. His racing career turned out to be everything you imagined it would be. He’s a four-time Formula 1 World Champion, and despite all the fame and glory, he always made time for you. He had always been your biggest supporter, no matter what you decided to do. But even he had his doubts. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked one day, as you sat together in your apartment, reviewing the script for your next film.

"I think so," you replied, uncertainty creeping into your voice. "I never expected this to happen, but now that it has, I can't imagine walking away."

He studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I just want you to be happy, Y/N. Whatever that looks like."

His words stuck with you, a reminder of the person you had always been, the person you were still trying to figure out. You loved acting, but there was a part of you that missed the structure, the challenge, and the sense of purpose that medicine had provided.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As your acting career continued to flourish, you made a promise to yourself: you wouldn't close the door on medicine entirely. The years of hard work and late nights studying had shaped you, and you were determined to find a way to honor that journey, even as new opportunities emerged in the entertainment world. It was during one of those opportunities that you first met Jensen. The encounter happened at a charity gala, an event you never imagined attending before your acting career took off.

You stood quietly in a corner, nursing a glass of champagne, your eyes scanning the room filled with celebrities and high-profile individuals. You had been invited because of your rising status in the industry, a status that still felt surreal at times. The room buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses, but it was Jensen’s presence that captivated you. He had an effortless charisma, a magnetism that drew you in from across the room.

Jensen, with his boyish charm and magnetic charisma, made his way through the crowd effortlessly. When his eyes locked onto yours, it was as if the world had stopped. He approached you with a confidence that was both alluring and intimidating.

"Hello beautiful, I'm Jensen," he said, his smile dazzling.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," you replied, trying to match his confidence but feeling your heart race.

From that moment on, your life transformed into a whirlwind romance. Jensen's world was intoxicating—red carpet events, glamorous parties, and moments that seemed too perfect to be real. He was attentive, always making you feel like the center of his universe. The late-night phone calls, surprise visits, and stolen moments of affection made you believe that you had found your fairy tale.

Your relationship with Jensen was the epitome of Hollywood glamour. Photographers captured your every move, and tabloids buzzed with stories of your romance. At first, the attention was thrilling. You felt special, adored, and on top of the world.

But as the months passed, the cracks began to show. Jensen's demanding schedule meant that he was often away on set, leaving you feeling lonely and neglected. The glamour started to fade, replaced by the harsh realities of a high-profile relationship.

Jensen's charm, which once made you feel special, started to feel suffocating. His possessiveness grew, and he began to dictate your choices. What you wore, where you went, who you spoke to—all became subjects of his control. At first, you brushed it off as his way of caring, but soon it became clear that his love was conditional.

The late-night arguments became frequent. Jensen's temper, once hidden behind his charming facade, surfaced. He would lash out, accusing you of not understanding his pressures and responsibilities. You tried to be supportive, to be the perfect partner, but nothing seemed to be enough.

You began to feel like a prisoner in your own life, trapped by the expectations and scrutiny of the public eye. The relationship that once made you feel alive now drained you of your happiness.

The turning point came one night when you discovered Jensen's infidelity. You found messages on his phone from a woman named Claire. The words were explicit, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Your heart shattered as you realized that the man you thought you knew had betrayed you.

Confronting Jensen was one of the hardest things you had ever done. He denied it at first, then tried to downplay it. But the evidence was irrefutable. The betrayal cut deep, leaving scars that would take years to heal.

Despite the heartbreak, you tried to salvage the relationship. You didn't want to believe that the fairy tale was over. You attended couples therapy, made compromises, and tried to forgive. But the trust was gone, and without it, the relationship was a shadow of what it once was.

The final straw came when another woman, Lisa, contacted you. She had photos and videos of Jensen with her, and she was threatening to expose them to the media unless you paid her a significant amount of money. You were truly at your breaking point.

The humiliation, the betrayal, and the constant pressure became too much to bear. You decided to expose Jensen and the women who had been involved with him. You gathered all the evidence, and with a heavy heart, you released it to the public.

The reaction was immediate and explosive. Social media was ablaze with shock and outrage. Jensen's image, once so pristine, was shattered. The world saw him for who he truly was—a man who had deceived and manipulated those closest to him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Your phone buzzes incessantly on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with each incoming call, text, and notification. It’s been going on for hours now, ever since the news broke. The media is in a frenzy, and your family and friends are no different. Everyone wants to know if it’s true, if the rumors about Jensen’s infidelity are real. But you can’t bring yourself to face it. You’ve been lying in bed, numb and drained, staring at the ceiling as if you could will the world away.

Each buzz feels like a jolt, a painful reminder of the life you thought you had, the relationship you thought was solid. Jensen had been controlling, isolating you from everyone you cared about, but you never imagined it would come to this. The betrayal cuts deeper than you ever thought possible, and the pain is almost numbing in its intensity.

You roll over, burying your face in the pillow, trying to block out the noise, the world, everything. But then, amidst the endless stream of messages and calls, a name flashes across your screen that makes you freeze. Lewis.

You haven’t spoken to him in what feels like forever. Jensen had made sure of that, keeping you away from your friends, especially Lewis. But seeing his name now stirs something inside you, a mix of longing, relief, and an overwhelming sense of loss. You reach for the phone with trembling hands and answer, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. The words are stuck in your throat, your heart pounding painfully in your chest.

“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice is soft, laced with concern, and just hearing it makes the tears you’ve been holding back start to fall. “Y/N/N, are you there?”

“Hi, Lewis,” you manage to choke out, your voice cracking as you try to keep the sobs at bay.

“Y/N/N…” He says your name again, but this time, it’s different. It’s like he’s trying to reach out and hold you, even though you’re miles apart. “Where are you? I’ll fly to you right now. Just tell me where you are, sweetheart.”

You close your eyes, the endearment hitting you like a wave. It’s been so long since someone called you that with genuine care. “I just… I just want to be alone,” you whisper, barely audible.

“Y/N/N, no,” he says, his voice more urgent now. “You’ve been through so much, and I’ve been worried about you for the longest time. Please, don’t shut me out.”

“Lewis, please…” You’re crying again, harder this time, the words coming out between broken sobs. “I’m… I’ll be okay. I just… I need time. I need to be alone. And I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry for not staying in contact with you. I should have…”

“Shhh, shhh, no, no, Y/N/N,” Lewis interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s not.”

“But it is,” you protest weakly, your guilt and shame threatening to swallow you whole. “It is, Lewis. I pushed you away. I let him push you away.”

“Y/N/N, listen to me,” he says, his tone softer now, soothing. “It’s not your fault. You don’t have to carry that. I’m just so sorry you’ve had to go through this.”

You’re silent, your chest heaving with the effort of trying to breathe through the pain. You want to believe him, to let go of the guilt, but it’s so hard. Everything feels so heavy, so overwhelming.

“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice breaks through your thoughts, anchoring you. “Talk to me. Please.”

You swallow hard, trying to find the words, but all you can manage is a whisper. “I have to go.”

“No, Y/N/N, don’t…” He sounds desperate now, almost pleading. “Please don’t hang up.”

“Lewis, it’s okay,” you say, though your voice is shaking. “I just… I need to turn my phone off and go away for a while. I just wanted to hear your voice before I go.”

“Go?” Lewis’s voice is strained with worry. “Y/N/N, you’re scaring me. Please, don’t do anything—”

“I’m not going to harm myself, Lewis,” you quickly reassure him, though you can hear the fear in his voice. “I just need to be away from everything—the phone, social media, the public. All of it. I need space. I need silence. I need some peace.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, and you can almost feel his struggle, his desire to reach through the phone and hold you, to keep you from slipping away. “Okay, Y/N/N,” he finally says, his voice soft, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I just want you to know that I care about you so much. I’m here for you, no matter what. Always.”

Your throat tightens again, and you fight to keep your voice steady. “I know, Lew. I know.”

The silence that follows is both comforting and painful, a shared moment of understanding and loss. You can almost see him, the way he would look at you with those concerned eyes, the way he would hold you until the pain wasn’t so suffocating.

“Goodbye, Lewis,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“I’ll talk to you later, Y/N/N,” he replies, a quiet determination in his tone that you know so well.

The call ends, and you’re left staring at the screen, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. The hurt is still there, raw and painful, but there’s a small sliver of warmth now, too. Hearing his voice again, knowing he’s still there for you, gives you a fragile sense of comfort.

You turn off your phone, letting the silence envelop you. The world outside fades away, and for a moment, it’s just you in the quiet, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of your heart.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

For the past year and a half, you distanced yourself from everyone, including Lewis. You buried yourself in work, traveled alone, and avoided any situation that might bring back memories of what you lost. Your heart ached, but you told yourself it was better this way. Safer.

You threw yourself into your career, taking on projects that challenged and inspired you. You even went back to school. You traveled to places you had always dreamed of visiting, finding solace in the beauty of the world. You spent time in nature, hiking, meditating, and rediscovering yourself.

The media had a field day with your disappearance. Speculations ran wild, but you remained silent, focusing on your healing. You took up new hobbies, learned new skills, and invested in yourself. Slowly, you began to rebuild your confidence and sense of self-worth.

You emerged from the shadows stronger, wiser, and more determined than ever. Your hard work paid off, and you made a name for yourself. Your projects received critical acclaim, and your name was on everyone's lips for all the right reasons.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Tonight was your first public appearance since exposing Jensen. The Met Gala was the event of the year, and you had been meticulously preparing for it. Your stylist had outdone herself, and when you looked in the mirror, you saw a vision of elegance and strength.

As you stepped onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and the shouts of fans filled the air. You walked with confidence, your head held high, and a smile that spoke of triumph and resilience.

"Y/N, you look stunning!" the photographers called out.

"Over here, Y/N! Give us a smile!"

You obliged, posing for the cameras and greeting the fans. It felt good to be back, to be seen and appreciated for who you had become.

The crowded after-party buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. People mingled, dressed to the nines, chatting and dancing in the dimly lit room. The atmosphere was electric, but you found yourself standing still, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. You hadn't seen Lewis in years, and the sight of him now, just a few feet away, sent a shiver down your spine.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis Hamilton, your former best friend. Lewis had been your rock, your confidant, and your best friend. He had been there through thick and thin, always ready with a comforting word or a warm embrace. It had been years since you last spoke to him, even longer since you last saw him, and the sight of him brought back a flood of memories. You hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Lewis spotted you and made his way over. His presence was as comforting as ever, and when he reached you, he placed his hand on your arm and leaned in close.

"Hi, Y/N," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.

"Hi, Lewis," you replied, trying to steady your racing heart.

His eyes held a mix of emotions—concern, relief, and something deeper. His presence was both comforting and disconcerting. The familiar warmth of his hand on your arm, the concern in his eyes, and the gentle tone of his voice—all of it felt like home. And yet, there was something else, something new, stirring within you. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.

You stood there, staring into his eyes, and your mind began to drift back to the countless moments you had shared with Lewis. The late-night conversations, the laughter, the shared dreams and hopes. He had always been your anchor, grounding you when the world felt too overwhelming. You remembered the way he would listen to you, truly listen, making you feel heard and understood. No one else had ever made you feel that way.

Lewis had been there during some of the darkest times in your life. When you first broke into the entertainment industry and faced the pressures of fame, he was the one who kept you grounded. He had a way of making you see the bigger picture, of reminding you of your worth and potential. His encouragement had been a constant source of strength for you.

As your mind wandered, you recalled the moments of pure joy you had shared with him. The spontaneous road trips, the late-night drives, the silly arguments that always ended in laughter. Lewis had a way of making even the mundane feel magical. He brought a sense of adventure and excitement into your life, and you cherished every moment you spent with him.

And then there were the quieter moments, the times when words weren't needed. Sitting in comfortable silence, watching the sunset, or simply being in each other's presence. Those moments had a depth and intimacy that you hadn't experienced with anyone else. It was in those moments that you felt truly seen and understood.

But as your relationship with Jensen took over, you had drifted away from Lewis. The demands of your high-profile romance consumed you, and you found yourself distancing from the people who mattered most. Lewis had tried to be there for you, but you were too caught up in the whirlwind to notice. You regretted that now, more than anything.

Standing here, face to face with Lewis, you felt a pang of guilt. You had shut him out, pushed him away when you needed him the most. And yet, here he was, looking at you with the same warmth and concern as always. It was a testament to the kind of person he was, loyal and kind.

But there was something else in his eyes tonight, something that made your heart race. It was a look you hadn't seen before, a depth of emotion that went beyond friendship. It made you feel vulnerable, exposed, and yet strangely exhilarated. You weren't sure what it was, but it made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.

You tried to make sense of this new feeling. It was a mix of longing, anticipation, and a hint of fear. Longing for the connection you once had, anticipation for what could be, and fear of the unknown. You had spent so long guarding your heart, protecting yourself from more pain, that this new sensation was both thrilling and terrifying.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, Lewis gently guided you to a quieter corner of the room. The noise and chaos of the party faded into the background as you focused on him, on the way his presence made you feel safe and cherished.

"How have you been?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to convey everything you had been through. "It's been... challenging," you admitted. "But I'm doing better now. I've been healing, focusing on myself."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad to hear that. I've missed you, Y/N/N."

Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had missed him too, more than you could ever express. The realization made your heart ache with a mix of regret and hope.

"I've missed you too, Lewis," you said softly, your voice tinged with emotion.

There was a moment of silence as you both took in each other's presence. It was as if time had stopped, and all that mattered was this moment, this connection between you. You felt a spark, a flicker of something more, and it both excited and scared you.

Lewis reached out and gently took your hand in his. The simple gesture sent a jolt of electricity through you. His touch was familiar, comforting, and yet it ignited a new flame within you. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"I know things have been tough," he said, his voice low and earnest. "But you're stronger than you think, Y/N/N. You've always been strong."

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words touched a deep part of you. You had been trying to be strong for so long, to prove to yourself and the world that you could rise above the pain. Hearing Lewis acknowledge that strength made you feel seen and validated.

"Thank you, Lewis," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I don't know what I would have done without your support."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. "You've always had it in you, Y/N. You just needed to believe in yourself."

His words resonated with you, echoing the journey you had been on over the past year and a half. You had fought hard to rebuild your life, to find yourself again. And now, standing here with Lewis, you felt a renewed sense of hope.

As the night went on, you found yourself drawn to Lewis in a way you hadn't expected. There was a new layer to your connection, something deeper and more profound. It was as if the time apart had only strengthened the bond between you, and now it was evolving into something more.

You couldn't deny the way your heart raced when he looked at you, the way his touch sent shivers down your spine. It was a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time, and it scared you. But it also filled you with a sense of excitement and possibility.

You spent the rest of the evening talking, reminiscing about old times and catching up on each other's lives. The conversation flowed effortlessly, just like it always had. And yet, there was an undercurrent of something new, something that made your heart flutter.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As the night drew to a close, you found yourself standing outside the venue, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the party. Lewis stood beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of everything you were feeling. The two of you had talked throughout the evening, catching up in a way that felt familiar yet distant. There had been laughter, shared memories, and a surface-level exchange about how your lives were going. But there was something deeper weighing on your heart, something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“Lewis,” you began, your voice soft and hesitant, “I’m sorry.”

He turned to you, his expression shifting from the relaxed smile he’d worn all evening to something more serious, more concerned. “What for?”

You swallowed hard, gathering your thoughts, knowing this was going to be difficult but feeling an overwhelming need to say it. “I know tonight we talked a little bit about our lives and how we’re doing, but I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For not staying in contact with you throughout college as much as I should have.”

Lewis frowned, his eyes searching your face as if trying to understand where this was coming from. “Y/N, that wasn’t—”

“No, please, let me finish,” you interrupted, your voice shaking slightly as you pushed forward. “And then, when my career took off… You were there for me, supporting me, and I was with Jensen, and I cut you off.”

“Y/N, that wasn’t your fault,” he said quickly, his tone gentle but firm.

“I know,” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes. “But after everything that happened, I didn’t speak to you at all. It’s been three years, Lewis. Three years since it all fell apart, and tonight was the first time I’ve talked to you in years. And we didn’t even really talk. We just… surface talked. And you deserve more than that. So… I’m sorry.”

Lewis looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions—shock, hurt, confusion. Your words had opened up old wounds, bringing to the surface feelings he’d buried deep down. He was struggling to process it all, his heart racing as he tried to find something to say, to make sense of the flood of emotions you’d just unleashed. But before he could respond, you suddenly seemed to panic.

Your breath hitched as you realized the weight of what you’d just said, the vulnerability you’d exposed. “I—I shouldn’t have brought this up. Not here. Not now,” you stammered, your voice trembling. Without waiting for him to say anything, you turned and walked away, your steps quickening as you headed for your car. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again, but it was barely audible.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis stood there, frozen, watching as you slipped away into the night. His heart ached, the apology you’d left him with echoing in his mind. “She’s sorry?” he murmured to himself, the words feeling hollow and incomplete. There was so much more to say, so much more he wanted to understand, but you were gone before he could even begin to process it.

As you sat in your car, your hands gripping your purse, you felt a wave of regret wash over you. “What did I just do?” you whispered, your voice laced with self-recrimination. “That wasn’t the time or place… I’m such an idiot.” You stared blankly ahead, the headlights of passing cars blurring as your mind replayed the scene over and over. You couldn’t believe you’d brought up something so deep, so personal, in such a casual setting. And then, you didn’t even give him a chance to respond. You just walked away. Again.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Meanwhile, Lewis remained rooted to the spot, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of confusion and hurt. Your words had ripped open old scars, bringing back all the pain of losing you, the ache of your absence in his life. And now, you’d said you were sorry, but what did that mean? Was that it? Was that all you had to say after years of silence?

“She’s sorry…” Lewis repeated, his voice barely a whisper. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t explain why you’d cut him off, why you’d let so much time pass without a word, and why you’d left him standing there without so much as an explanation.

As the chauffeur approached him, telling him his car was ready, Lewis felt a sudden rush of determination. He couldn’t let it end like this. Not again. He couldn’t let you walk away without at least trying to understand, without at least saying something—anything—that might bridge the gap that had grown between you over the years.

“Follow that black SUV that just pulled off,” Lewis instructed the driver as he climbed into the car.

“Okay, sir,” the driver responded, nodding as he pulled away from the curb, keeping the distance between the cars minimal.

Lewis leaned back in his seat, his mind racing. He didn’t know what he was going to say when he caught up with you, but he knew he had to try. He couldn’t let you disappear from his life again, not after everything you’d just unearthed, not after the years of silence and buried feelings that were now clawing their way to the surface.

He watched the road ahead, his heart pounding, as the chauffeur followed closely behind your car. He didn’t care how long it took, or what he had to do—he wasn’t going to let you slip away again. Not this time.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

You had just returned to your penthouse after the Met Gala after-party, exhausted yet exhilarated by the night's events. The gown you had worn now lay draped over a chair, and you had just managed to slip into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting t-shirt. The clock on your bedside table blinked 3:40 AM. You were about to crawl into bed when a knock on the door startled you.

"Who the fuck?" you muttered to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you made your way to the door.

Opening it, you were met with the sight of Lewis, looking disheveled and intense. You blinked, trying to process the unexpected visitor.

"Lewis? What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and concern.

He didn't say a word, just walked past you into the penthouse and sat down heavily on your couch. You stood there for a moment, stunned. This was not like Lewis. Closing the door behind you, you walked over to him, trying to understand what was happening.

"Uh, okay. What's going on?" you asked, your voice tentative.

Before you could say anything else, Lewis turned to you, his eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and frustration.

"You're sorry... Sorry, Y/N? After all these years of not speaking to each other and being best friends, that's all you have to say to me? Sorry? I deserve more than that. No, fuck that, I need more from you," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your confusion deepened, and you took a step back, trying to gather your thoughts. "Lewis, I—what do you want me to say? I mean, friends drift apart, a lot of shit happened" you began, but he cut you off.

"Friends?! Friends, Y/N? I've known you since we were kids. I know your favorite movie, your favorite color, your favorite flowers—yeah, flowers, because you have three. I know how you like your eggs cooked, I know you love ketchup but hate tomatoes on anything. I know you're allergic to mosquito bites, and you hate when people say something and then say 'never mind'. I know you, Y/N, everything about you. You're my person, my Y/N. We are not just friends, Y/N. At least not in my eyes."

You stood there, speechless, as his words washed over you. He continued, his voice growing more desperate. "So yes, I'm mad at your 'I'm sorry' after three years of not hearing from you, having to call your parents, friends, your siblings, hell, even your assistant to know how you are doing. So, sorry if I feel like the girl I've been in love with since forever deserves to give me more of a conversation."

His words hung in the air, heavy and charged with emotion. You stared at him, your mind racing to comprehend everything he had just said. There was a silence, thick and palpable, stretching between you both.

"You... love me?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.

The room seemed to close in around you as you waited for his response, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis’s silence was deafening. He stared at you with a mixture of vulnerability and determination, his usual confidence stripped away by raw emotion. You could see the pain etched in his features, and it mirrored the tumultuous feelings inside you.

"Yes, Y/N," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And it’s not just some fleeting feeling or a phase. It’s been there, in the background, every day, every moment we’ve been apart. I’ve watched you build your life, your career, and I’ve cheered you on from a distance. But it was never enough for me to just be on the sidelines. I wanted more, I needed more, and I didn’t know how to make you see that."

You took a deep breath, your mind reeling from his confession. The realization that Lewis’s feelings for you were not just platonic but something deeper, something that had been lingering all these years, was overwhelming. It made you feel exposed and vulnerable in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

"I... I didn’t know," you said softly, your voice trembling. "I had no idea you felt this way."

Lewis’s eyes softened slightly, but the pain was still evident. "How could you? I kept it hidden, buried under layers of friendship and missed opportunities. I thought maybe if I stayed out of the way, you’d figure it out on your own. But the longer I stayed silent, the more I realized that I was just hurting myself. And when you disappeared, I thought I’d lost my chance forever."

Your mind flashed back to those moments when you were close, when you shared everything with him. You remembered how he always seemed to be just a step away from being more than a friend, but you had never let yourself acknowledge it. Your focus had been on your own life, your career, and Jensen. Now, standing in front of Lewis, you saw the depth of what you had missed.

"I was so caught up in everything that happened with Jensen," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I pushed everyone away, including you. And now... now I’m not sure what to do with all of this. I didn’t know how much I missed you until you were back here, but I’m still trying to understand what this means."

Lewis stood up and walked towards you, his gaze never leaving yours. "What it means, Y/N, is that I’m here, laying it all out for you. I’m not asking for anything other than the chance to be honest with you. I need you to know how I feel, and I need you to decide if there’s a place for me in your life—beyond just friends."

The emotion in his voice was almost palpable, and you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you. Your heart ached with the complexity of the situation. You had been through so much, and now faced with this raw, unfiltered declaration of love, you felt torn.

As the silence stretched between you and Lewis, you felt a tumult of emotions roiling within you. The weight of his confession had struck a chord deep inside, stirring feelings that had long been buried. His words had opened a floodgate, and as you stood there, the realization that you had harbored a deep love for him all along became crystal clear.

"I love you," you said softly, the words escaping your lips almost as a whisper but carrying the weight of years of unspoken emotion.

Lewis’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth slightly open as he struggled to process what he had just heard. "W-What?" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The disbelief in his tone was palpable, and for a moment, he seemed frozen, as if he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and the tears that threatened to spill over. You locked eyes with him, your gaze unwavering. "The recent years apart made me realize just how much I truly missed you. I was so naïve and stupid when we were younger. I didn’t see how you looked at me or how you treated me. You were always there for me, through the good and the bad days. Even when I wanted to rot away, you were there, holding me up."

Tears began to slip down your cheeks, and you reached up to wipe them away with trembling fingers. "Tonight, seeing you again after all these years, my whole mind and body were flooded with emotions. It made me realize what I knew deep down: that I love you. I’ve always loved you more than a friend. I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve put you through. I know I can’t make it up to you, and you have every right not to forgive me. But I am so sorry, Lewis. I love you. I really do. I’m in love with you."

Your voice broke as you spoke, and the tears you had been trying to hold back began to fall freely. The intensity of your emotions was overwhelming, and you felt a mixture of relief and sorrow as you poured out your heart.

Lewis’s eyes were wide with disbelief, and his own tears began to form as he processed your confession. He stood up slowly, the gravity of the moment clearly affecting him. Without a word, he walked towards you, his steps filled with purpose and urgency.

When he reached you, he cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch both tender and fervent. He leaned in, closing the gap between you, and his lips met yours in a passionate, urgent kiss. The kiss was filled with all the longing, love, and frustration that had been building up over the years. It was a kiss that spoke of pain and hope, of dreams lost and found.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with a mix of wonder and joy. "You have no fucking idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words to me," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m not even sure if this is real or if my mind is just playing tricks on me."

You managed a soft, tearful laugh, the joy and relief mingling with the sadness of your confession. You reached up, gently cradling his face in your hands. His hands were still on your face, his touch grounding and reassuring. "It’s real, Lewis," you said with a trembling smile. "I love you, Lewis Hamilton. I always have."

Lewis’s expression softened, and he returned your smile with a mixture of adoration and relief. "And I love you, Y/N L/N. Always have, always will."

With that, the intensity of the moment took over, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing onto yours in a fervent, passionate kiss. The kiss was deep and urgent, fueled by the years of longing and unspoken feelings that had been bottled up. Your bodies pressed together, the heat of the moment making you both lose track of everything but the electric connection between you.

As the kiss continued, Lewis’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer to him. You could feel the strength of his arms around you, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The kiss was a dance of passion and tenderness, each of you exploring the newfound closeness with a mix of fervor and delicacy.

With a sudden surge of energy, Lewis lifted you off the ground, his arms strong and steady as he cradled you against him. A surprised yelp of joy escaped your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by another deep kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling the thrill of being held so securely.

Lewis pulled away briefly, his breath mingling with yours as he looked into your eyes with a mix of desire and determination. "Bedroom," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, guiding him towards the bedroom with a sense of excitement and anticipation. "It's this way," you whispered, your voice breathless. As he carried you through the penthouse, his lips never left your neck, trailing kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

When you reached the bedroom, Lewis gently laid you down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows that danced along the walls. The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of passion and vulnerability, the culmination of years of unspoken emotions.

As you lay on the bed, Lewis’s hands roamed over your body with a mixture of reverence and eagerness. He kissed your neck, moving slowly down towards your collarbone, his lips brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart race. His touch was both soothing and electrifying, igniting every nerve in your body.

You reached up, your hands working on the buttons of his shirt with a sense of urgency. The fabric fell away, revealing his well-defined chest. You traced your fingers over his skin, savoring the warmth and strength beneath your fingertips. Lewis responded with a soft, appreciative murmur, his hands continuing their exploration of your body.

You continued to undress him, your movements growing more confident as you removed his pants and underwear. Each layer of clothing that fell away seemed to bring you both closer, the physical closeness mirroring the emotional connection that had finally been acknowledged.

His kisses were searing, each one more urgent than the last. His hands roaming your body with a hunger that left you breathless, igniting a fire wherever they touched. His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, kissing, nipping, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You arched into him, the need for more overwhelming.

Without breaking contact, he settled between your legs, his hands sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head. As you unclasped your bra, Lewis’s eyes were filled with adoration and desire. "You’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it while his fingers teased the other. You moaned, your back arching off the bed, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Lewis trailed kisses down your body, his mouth hot against your skin, until he reached the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he slowly pulled them down, the anticipation building with every second. He spread your legs wider, his breath hot against your most sensitive area. When his tongue finally made contact, you cried out, your hands gripping the sheets. He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every inch, driving you wild with need.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

You gasped, the sensation of his mouth on you too much and not enough all at once. "Lewis, please," you begged, your voice trembling with need.

"Patience, love," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to savor every moment."

He looked up, his eyes dark with lust, before diving back in, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. He slid one, then two fingers inside you, curling them just right, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. Your body responded immediately, the pressure building, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. When the first orgasm hit, it was like a wave crashing over you, your body tensing, then shuddering as the pleasure rolled through you.

But Lewis wasn't done. He continued working his fingers in and out of you, relentlessly, not giving you a moment to come down from your high. His tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers worked you, the sensation almost too much. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it taking your breath away. When it hit, it was even more powerful than the first, your body convulsing with the force of it. You screamed his name, your vision going white with the sheer pleasure of it.

"You taste so sweet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I could do this all night."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on yours. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "More than okay," you managed to say, your voice hoarse with pleasure.

He smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet."

He climbed back up your body, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. You could feel his erection pressing against you, the need in him just as fierce as your own. Without breaking the kiss, you flipped him onto his back, straddling him, your hands running over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingers.

"You’re so sexy," you murmured against his skin, your voice thick with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

You kissed him, your lips trailing down his neck, over his chest, worshipping his body. You moved lower, taking his thick cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking it deeper, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, his control slipping.

"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart."

You continued sucking his cock, taking your time to pleasure him until he was teetering on the edge.

But he didn't let you finish. He pulled you up, his eyes burning with lust. "I want to come in you," he said, his voice rough. He flipped you over, positioning himself at your entrance. He pushed in slowly, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp.

He moved with a steady rhythm at first, his thrusts deep and powerful. The pleasure built quickly, the sensation of him inside you driving you wild. "Who's my good girl?" he whispered in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "You like that, right?"

You could only moan in response, the pleasure too intense for words. He moved faster, his thrusts harder, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you. He leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, and you felt another orgasm building, the pressure intense. When it hit, it was like an explosion, your body shaking with the force of it.

But Lewis didn't stop. This time he put a pillow under your lower back, throwing your legs over his shoulders. His thrusts were relentless, powerful, driving you to the edge again and again. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. When it finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over you, leaving you breathless, dizzy with pleasure.

Even though you had come, Lewis hadn't. He continued to move, his thrusts never losing their rhythm, overwhelming you with pleasure. You could feel another orgasm building, the sensation almost too much. When it hit, it was like a white-hot explosion, your body convulsing with the force of it.

"Lewis, I can't... it's too much," you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.

"You can take it, baby," he whispered, his husky voice filled with love and lust. "You're a good girl, right baby. Take it for me.

Lewis finally let himself go, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. When he came, it was with a deep groan, his body tensing, then shuddering as he emptied himself inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your skin, his body trembling with the aftermath.

He rolled off you, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, concern lacing his tone.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "That was... incredible," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

Lewis smiled, his eyes softening. "You were incredible," he said, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. He kissed you gently, his lips soft against yours, a stark contrast to the rough passion from earlier.

He got up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a warm, damp cloth. He cleaned you up gently, his touch tender, his eyes never leaving yours. He tossed the cloth in the damper and climbed back into bed, pulling you into his arms.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"I'm perfect," you said, snuggling closer to him, your body still humming with the afterglow of your multiple orgasms.

Lewis’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his touch soothing and tender. He looked at you with a smile, his eyes filled with a mixture of contentment and adoration. "I never imagined this would happen," he said softly, his voice filled with wonder. "But I’m so glad it did."

You smiled back at him, your heart full and your soul at peace. "Me too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve never felt so complete."

He continued to hold you, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. "You're everything to me," he said quietly. "I want you to know that."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the depth of his words touching you deeply. You had always known that there was something special between you, but hearing it aloud made it all the more real.

"You mean everything to me too, Lewis," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Lewis smiled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Good," he said, his voice soft. "I want you to feel safe and loved, always."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotion. "I do," you said, your voice thick with feeling. "I love you, Lewis."

He looked at you, his eyes shining with emotion. "I love you too," he said, his voice steady and sincere.

You lay there in each other's arms, the tension and passion of the night giving way to a comfortable silence, the only sound the soft beat of your hearts in sync. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's love and warmth.

.•☆.°. taglist ☆.°.• . @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @xoscar03 @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk @xoscar3 @jimcarreyfann42 @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @oliviah-25

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amor-ad-nauseam · 5 months ago

Text

Somethin’ Stupid (pt. 2)

Pairing(s): Sam Winchester x reader

Summary :You two are pathetic for each other, so much so that Dean can’t help but take notice. Maybe, just maybe his “playing wingman” will work out alright…

Word count : 3.5k

Tags: Reader and Sam have a crush on each other, fluff, no use of y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns, carheartt!sam, heavy make out, kissing, fade to black, almost smut.

Notes; While this does read as a fade to black i may or may not have gotten a little carried away with myself and wrote part of the smut scene… it’s not included here but if y’all want that lmk!! I am so sorry about how late this is coming out! i’ve been very busy with back to school preparations. Notes and reposts are greatly appreciated

part 1 part 3

“Rise n’ shine, Sammy!” Dean announced, clapping Sam on the shoulder.

Sam flinches awake and like a row of dominos, the guitar that was in his lap is sent tumbling to the floor - creating a harsh cacophony of strings and wood.

The sound causes you to jolt from your slumber. You shoot up in bed in a flurry of confusion. “I’m up! I’m up! Where’s the Rugaru!?” You shout, whipping your head around the room.

“Woah, Good Morning to you too,” Dean chuckles, punctuating the sentence with an obnoxious bite of beef jerky. Sam makes a face. “Want some?” He points the jerky at Sam.

“Hey, Dean.” Sam sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He runs his hands down his face. "I’m good, thanks.”

You visibly relax as the real world comes into focus. “Morning, Boys.” You say as the adrenaline wears off. Sam was still across from you, now flashing an apologetic smile and Dean was well- Dean, but in a cowboy hat. That wasn’t too unusual for him. Dean nodded a hello.

“Eh, more for me,” Dean shrugs with another bite. “Anywho,” He bends down and retrieves the guitar from the floor, now with a newly popped high E string. He hoped the motel wouldn’t charge him extra for that. “When’d you become Springsteen?” He smirks.

Sam was in no mood.

Then, his eyes lit up.

“Hey, Dean, what’s that, uh, mark on your neck?” Sam said, a grin only capable of being mustered by the most annoying of little brothers appearing on his lips.

“What mar- “Dean slid his hand down the length of his neck, stopping about halfway in sudden realization. “Oh- “He clears his throat. Mumbling something about getting banged up pretty badly, he dismisses himself to the med kit in Sam’s bag.

“Oh, and that explains why you’re just now getting back at, uh,” Sam glances to the alarm clock. “7am? from a simple salt-n-burn?”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean scoffs defensively. “Cause you see, Sammy, I was actually doing my job.”

The early morning sun filtered in through the blinds and for the first time you realized that the wood paneling on the divider and both doors were made to look like a saloon door. Damn. They went all out with this whole cowboy theme. On the bright side, the sun gave everything a warm almost fiery glow. Despite the rather cozy atmosphere of the room, Sam and Dean were still going.

Only two things in life are certain: taxes and the Winchester’s arguments.

“The job that requires you to receive hickeys from girls in bars?” Sam laughed. He was now stood by the foot of your bed, stretching the tension from his shoulders. Man, even through a t-shirt his back muscles were attractive- carved like a Greek statue.

“Okay, when you say it like that it makes me sound like a hooker.”

“Maybe you are, Mr. hard worker.”

“Don’t objectify me.” Dean rolls his eyes, feigning offense . Dean was leaned over the dresser, looking in the mirror as he tried to cover a small purple mark on his neck with a square gauze patch.

He definitely wasn’t winning this one.

As if suddenly remembering something, his head perked up and he set his sights on you.

“How’s the leg?” He asked, looking at you in the mirror. He did genuinely care about your wellbeing, but it didn’t hurt that you were also a good out.

“Hm?” You were a little distracted; you’d almost forgotten about your leg entirely.

“Oh right. It’s fine really,” you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

When you look down you find the bandage that was once around your thigh, half undone, twisted about and just an overall mess.

“Right, fine.” Dean chuckles.

“Woah, you okay?” Sam questions.

Before you know it, Sam’s closing the distance between the two of you and the roll of gauze is sailing through the air from Dean’s palm to Sam’s.

“Damn, I thought you were better at the whole first-aid thing, Sammy.” Dean remarks, happy to flip the situation back on his brother.

“I am,” Sam takes a seat next to you. He’s warm. And close. Too close. “But someone.” Damn he smells good too. Like a brand-new book. “Wouldn’t let me.” He said with a teasing expression.

“Hey, I didn’t do too bad.” Your cheeks flush.

“Riiight.” He gently tugs at an end of the bandage, and it unravels like a loose thread in a pair of jeans. “Not too bad at all.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You reply, your face contorting to an attempt at annoyance.

“Hey, cheer up.” Sam smiled.

You couldn’t help but smile in return.

He gently slid his hand to the underside of your knee and placed your leg over his lap just as he did the night prior.

While you were busy tossing the wrinkled bandage into a small barrel-shaped trashcan near the sofa-chair, Sam took the opportunity to let his gaze linger. He drank in every detail of your appearance, hoping to seer it to memory.

For some reason, 3 things in particular stuck out to him: You never bothered to put your hair up last night, the way squinted as the sun reflected directly into your eyes, and the fact that you were still in his Carhartt. That last one especially made his heart beat a little harder.

Your lovely chaotic hair and the sun shining on your face inspired countless fantasies. Some as simple as kissing the tiredness from your expression, others, he felt bad for even thinking.

The minute you turn around his eyes are once again glued to your leg and you’re none the wiser.

“How’m I lookin, doc?”

Dean with his shirt tucked beneath his chin was rubbing ointment on what he wasn’t quite sure if it was another hickey on his abdomen or an actual bruise. Upon hearing your question he perks up, ready to make a dumb Looney Toons reference when Sam of all people beats him to the punch.

“Ah, just peachy, Bugs.” He replied in a nasally imitation of Daffy Duck.

“Huh.” Dean mumbles with some small shock. He watches the two of you from the mirror's reflection. He knew Sam had a thing for you, but this, this was something else.

The way the two of you giggled and just almost leaned into each other with every joke- pulling away in shy stupidity each time you got too close. The lingering eye contact, how Sam’s hand looked almost reluctant to leave you, the way one of you would stare when the other wasn’t looking. The whole thing left his stomach feeling like a pot of warm honey.

Damn. You’ve both got it bad.

An idea.

“Hey guys,” He chimed in.

“Hm?” You and Sam said in unison.

“Oh, sorry no you go- “you said.

“No, it’s okay you- “

“Well, you did fix me up it’s only fair- “just then you realized that your leg was still in his lap. You quickly pull away and smile apologetically. Sam does the same.

Dean just about face palms. You two are hopeless.

“Guys.” Dean clears his throat, capturing both of your attentions once more.

“I'm gonna go out and uh, do something.” Dean said with heavy emphasis on “do something.”

“Oh, okay..?” you said with confusion

“Oh, uh, need help with that?” Sam added, eaqually as confused.

“No! no, sorry…heh… I just mean that you both should stay here while I go make a move.”

“You… feelin’ alright, Dean?” You question.

“He’s still hungover I think.” Sam leans in and mutters.

“Y’know,” Dean turns his attention straight to Sam. “Making a move is always the right thing.”

“…So, you do want my help?”

“No, damnit,” Dean sighs in defeat. “M’goin’ on a coffee run.”

“Oh… okay…” Sam replied. “In that case, make two of ‘em decaf.”

“Aw you remembered?” You say with an expression reminiscent of a teen girl with a crush.

“Yeah, I know how it makes you jittery.” Sam replied, sounding embarrassed.

Dean watches as the two of you sit there smiling like idiots.

Yeah.

Extra hopeless.

- -

The latter half of the day is spent with Dean acting strangely and you and Sam struggling to figure out why.

A couple of theories arose.

“Maybe he is hungover.” You quietly conceded after Dean stretched his legs across the diner’s booth seat when Sam tried to sit down- forcing him next to you.

“Nah, he’s mean when hungover.” Sam replied.

- -

“Maybe we did something?” You suggested when Dean pulled the same diner stunt later at the library.

“Like what?” Sam replied as he studied Deans relaxed demeanor.

“Dunno. Maybe it’s 'cause we bailed last night?”

“C’mon we didn’t “bail”, you got stabbed and we all know if one of us didn’t stay with you, you’d come crawling back to finish the fight.”

“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “Well, I’m fresh out of ideas.”

“Me too. Just can’t figure out what would make him not tell us details on a case, it’s not like him.”

- -

You also happened to notice that Sam grew increasingly grumpy as the day dragged on.

Whether that was due to Dean, or his uncomfortable sleeping situation last night was lost on you.

- -

“Maybe he got roofied?” Sam mumbled when it seemed as though Dean couldn’t walk in a straight line- continually bumping into you - shoving you straight into Sam.

“Can’t be, after that whole witch thing he’s really careful with his drinks.”

“Hm…”

- -

“Mid life crisis?” Sam proposes in a hushed voice from the huddled corner of a motel lobby.

Dean had bought two rooms instead of the usual one accompanied by “we’re livin’ offa credit card scams and prayers. Besides, we’ve all pretty much seen eachother’s junk anyway.”

“He’s 30” you replied while watching Dean flirt with the woman behind the counter.

“With this job and his liver, it’s midlife.”

- -

Finally, the night had rolled around.

“Been dazed and confused for so long it can’t be true~”

The radio humming as the Impala raced down the road.

Normally, nights like this would be relaxing. Windows rolled down, the sounds of the cold and buzzing night mixed with the same five albums Dean rotated. Empty back roads and the three of you endearingly out of tune as you sang along.

But this night was simply and plainly, dead.

The air in the car had a tension not even Page and Plant could cut through. You all silently sat in your unassigned-assigned seats: Dean driving, Sam shot gun and you in the back watching the night woosh by.

It all came to a head earlier when Dean notified you and Sam that you two were on stake-out duty. You watched as Sam’s expression visibly changed into one of suppressed nausea. Sure, stakeouts usually sucked ass but did the thought of being alone with you really drive him to the point of sickness?

You breathed a sigh, sinking further into your seat at the memory.

Sam steals a glance at you in the rear view- you looked sad. Guess you weren’t too excited at the thought of a stakeout either.

The car stops about 50 yards in the underbrush in front of a dilapidated old building in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

The light previously provided to you by the stars was dimmer now due to the thick miles of pine trees stretching high above- looking as though they could touch the sky themselves.

“Aaand we’re here,” Dean said, switching off the ignition

“Mind telling us where “here” is exactly?” Sam quipped.

“Like I said, it’s a nest.”

“Yeah. That’s the problem. That’s about the only thing you’ve said.”

“Okay, fine- look, We’ve had a lot of duds lately and I didn’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up if it wasn’t the real deal.” Dean shrugs.

Dean was an incredibly good liar. Or as he liked to call it, thinking on his feet.

“Wow you are s- “

“Such a great older brother, I know. I’m gonna go walk the perimeter, shouldn’t take too lo-“

“Great I’ll come with!”

You watch as Sam quickly follows after Dean- not even letting his brother get the words out before he’s on his feet and out of the car like he’ll catch the plague if he’s alone with you.

Yeah. Stakeouts really sucked.

From inside the car all you could hear were Sam and Deans muffled voices, but even still, you could tell they were arguing…

“I’m not an idiot, Dean. I know what you’re doing.”

“Well I’d hope so,” Dean chuckled, holding his newly sharpened machete upward to inspect it. “Dad’d kill us if we ever even thought about going in dull and halfcocked.”

“Y’know you’re not the most subtle guy in the world.”

Sufficiently satisfied, Dean re-sheathes the blade and hooks it onto his waistband. “Dunno wacha talkin’ ‘bout, Sammy.”

“You forced me to sit next to her.”

“Leg got bruised las night, had to keep ‘er elevated.”

“Got two rooms?” Sam quirked a brow.

“So? What if i wanted to bring someone back?”

“Dude, you practically threw her into me.”

“Again, the leg. Can’t walk straight.” He shrugs, grabbing a vial of dead-man’s blood and putting it into his pocket.

“Alright, cut the bullshit. I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work. She’s not into me and i’m-“

“A dumbass.” Dean says sharply.

“E-excuse me?” Sam says, caught off guard.

“The girl is head-over-fuckin-heels for you. you must be a dumbass not to see it.” Dean points an accusing finger at him.

“I-“

“I see the way you look at her, hell, you busted out the guitar for her! ah- don’t give me that look, it was obvious. “

“Okay, fine, you got me Dean.” Sam throws his arms up in an exasperated manner. “I have feelings for her.” He pauses. This is the first time he’s said it aloud. His eyes go to his shoes. “Doesn’t mean she feels the same way.”

“Christ.” Dean slams the trunk, shoves his hands in his pockets and walks around the side of the car. Sam gives a puzzled expression. Dean jerks his head. “Watch this,” Dean says.

With the back of his hooked middle and index finger, Dean knocks on the back window of the Impala.

“Hm?” You lift your head from the book in your lap.

It’s a quick set of movements, but obvious, unthought action: your eyes first land on the source of the sound, Dean. He waves. You smile.

Then, all in the fraction of a second you look at Sam. Your smile falters. A short, flustered breath escapes your nose.

Your eyes go back to Dean, your lips curving into a poor attempt at a casual smile.

“See?” Dean says once you turn your attention back to your book.

“See what?” Sam replies, his voice growing annoyed and incredulous- having not picked up on anything out of the ordinary.

“You really make me wanna punch you sometimes.”

“Wha-, you know what, Dean, is this case even real? Cause if it’s not let’s just go back to the motel and-“

“Okay, Okay.” Dean pushes his arms in a ‘calm down’ motion. “It’s real, Columbo. Here,” He reaches behind his back, past the sides of his coat and pulls the local newspaper from the waistband of his jeans. “Happy now?”

Sam’s eyes skim the headline: Reports of “Cult like behavior” spotted near the old McCrowe house.

Below is a photograph of the dilapidated home they were parked in front of.

“Yes, but, h-“

“How do you know it’s real? Ya don’t. But i know you couldn’t take the risk; Even if you tried.”

Sam frowns, combing a hand through his hair. Dean smiles. “Go get ‘em, tiger” Dean says, patting his brother on the shoulder.

"You're an asshole."

Dean walks away with an extra bounce in his step. Sam frowns, again.

After taking a long moment, partially to regain his bearings, partially waiting till his brother disappeared around the bend, Sam pulls open the door.

“…Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

That wasn’t awkward at all.

Leaves crunch beneath your feet, and the book carried at your side rhythmically beats against your hip as you walk.

“So… figure out what’s up with Dean?”

“Oh, uhm,” He tosses the newspaper onto the dash as he slides into the front seat to cover his hesitation. “Nope. Not a clue.”

“Eh, I just hope he sorts himself out. If he keeps walking like that i think i’ll be bruised soon.” You chuckle at your own joke. “Guy’s got hips like Shakira, they do not lie.”

Crickets. Literal crickets fill the beat of silence after that joke.

You knew it was bad but damn.

“Ookay… tough crowd,” You mumble.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Sam said as if he were snapping out of a trance. “yeah heh, Shakira.”

You simply resign yourself to the book in your lap, every once in a while, taking a glance at the house ahead.

Meanwhile, Sam’s gaze never leaves the house for a moment. He had an expression you couldn’t quite place and an almost glazed over look in his eyes.

“Hey, i’m gonna go catch up with Dean, you’ll be fine right?” He says suddenly.

“No,” You slam your book shut and turn straight to Sam. “Sit your ass back down. we need to talk.”

“I’m sorry?”

The words come barreling from your mouth like a falling knife, sharp and unpredictable. “You have been super weird all day- I swear it’s hereditary- Dean acting strange, that i can deal with, but you? i-i don’t know what to do with that.”

A sinking sort of realization sets in. “I- god i’m so sorry.”

“I mean, did i do something? ‘Cause if i did i’m terribly sorry-“

“No, no, you didn’t do anything i swear.”

“Then what is it? i thought things were good and then- Look, if there’s something wrong just say the word and i’m there.”

“i know that but-“

“I’ll listen if you need it, i’m your friend and i wanna help.”

“That’s the problem.”

A beat of silence.

“That you’re my friend, just, my friend. That’s what’s wrong."

You feel your mouth going dry.

The words come tumbling out of Sam’s mouth much faster than he can think. “I-I knew from the moment i met you that you were this super cool and sweet and pretty but also badass at the same time kinda person and then it sorta spiraled into a crush, -which was innocent enough- so i thought it’d go away but then it didn’t and then-“

Every word, every thought, every action, everything within Sam is cut short and fades off when your lips collide with his. Your hands cup the sides of his face. His eyes widen before slowly dropping shut.

A moment later the kiss breaks and you’re sat there, staring dumbly into those gorgeous hazel eyes. From this new vantage point (the middle of the front seat) the gaps between the pines overhead is greater, allowing for starlight to filter in. The parts of his face not obscured by the shadows of his hair were illuminated in perfect detail. The soft edges of his face look almost sharp given the looming shadows, that detail though, is contrasted by the rosy blush spreading on his cheeks.

“…I wanted to shut you up,” You blink. “But I should’ve asked, i’m sor-“

The last of your attempt to apologize is muffled as Sam’s lips crash into yours.

His hand rests on the far side of your neck, his thumb moving across your cheek. The kiss grows in intensity, his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, your breath short and hot on his face. You drop your hands from his jaw and begin to slide them down his torso, eliciting a low growl-like sound from him. You both grow in fervor, the kiss bordering the fine line between sweet and desperate.

His tongue pushes past your lips and begins exploring you with warm desire. A soft sound escapes your throat at the feeling, his body growing warm, breaths shaky, and his tongue needly licking at the inside of your mouth.

Sam pulls away but only for a moment. He takes a quick survey of your face: lips red, breathing coming out in short pants, hair messy and all of you elucidated by the stars outside. You were no longer a reverie- some fantasy far out of reach. You were right there, lovely and more attention capturing than any star. So he says the thought that’s been on repeat in his mind since the moment he met you. What he’s thought on a thousand breathless afternoons when the sun shines just right on your face: “I love you”

“I love you too.” You reply without missing a single beat. you don’t have to think about it, not even for a second. You love him.

Taglist: @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillies444lola @wowzabowza69 comment to be added/ removed

#sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #one shot #reader insert #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural one shot #spn fic #spn

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merbear25 · 2 months ago

Note

Hi. How are you? Can you please write a fic, Zoro x Fem Reader, where Zoro loves reader but doesn’t know/get that he’s in love. He’d do anything for her but he wonders if it’s love or what? Thank you so much. You’re amazing 💕

Hello! I'm hanging in there and hope you're doing well, too. Thank you for sending in a request. I hope you like it, lovely 💜💜

You were his friend, nothing more. He gave you a helping hand every now and then just like he did with the others. Giving you advice for combat was something he would give any of his friends. So what was it about you that got his heart racing and his palm sweaty? Brushing it off wasn’t doing any good, further piquing his curiosity.

CW: SFW, fem!reader, fluff, slow burn, mention of combat training, confession

The kind of love that sneaks up on you (Zoro)

In a world where only the strongest seemed to thrive, you were left no choice but to learn how to properly defend yourself. You were finding yourself in sticky situations more and more often, and despite Zoro always being there to save you, deep down the fear that one day he wouldn’t be able to grew. Guilt festered as you felt more like a burden. Even though no one made you feel like you were, you were clearly weaker than the rest. However, that was something you were determined to change.

One-on-one sessions with Zoro were spent working on your reflexes and general combat skills. It wasn’t necessary for you to become the strongest; merely keeping your head afloat and learning to use your enemies' advantages against them were skills you had set out to exercise.

“You gotta keep your eyes on me. Don’t look away.” The next swing he delivered was swift yet controlled, testing how good your intuition was.

Each move from him was countered with more confidence than the last. You nodded at his advice, keeping your head held high and not allowing yourself to stay cowering in the shadows anymore.

Zoro’s expression was stern, serious, and each push he gave you was carried out from a place of care, for letting you off “easy” would be an insult to your abilities. He believed in you, and your progress never went unnoticed.

Panting from exertion, you had reached your limit. The subtle shift in his demeanor was followed by him retracting his next move. He sighed, “Let’s stop here for today.”

“What? Why? I can keep going!”

“It’s not weak to know your limits.” Wisdom was a quality of his that was often overlooked. Swallowing the tough pill, you knew arguing would be useless.

Watching your inner conflict was something that felt all too familiar. There was a tightness keeping his heart from beating freely as you stood there looking defeated. His mouth went dry and his gulps felt like wet cement caught in his throat.

There’s no point in sulking was what he wanted to say, but he hesitated. It was true, so why couldn’t he form the words? They’d hurt you, perhaps deep down he knew that. However, you were sensible enough not to take it personally… weren’t you? The thought of bringing you to tears kept him locked in place. This uncertainty of how to approach you would settle on his chest every now and then, unexplainable and popping up at the oddest times.

“You should get cleaned up.” When your eyes met his once more, his breaths grew uneven. “You look a bit sweaty and would probably be more comfortable if you changed.” The subtle touch to your hair as you averted your gaze caused his cheeks to burn red.

Should I have mentioned she looks sweaty? He mulled over the awkwardness now dispersing through the air when you left the room. The room felt hot all of the sudden. His brow furrowed and he crossed his arms in irritation. Images of you were there in his mind’s eye: your eagerness to improve, the devotion and passion that were evident when you fought, and that refusal to be forced into a box just because you were a woman.

Such traits were admirable and honorable, parts of you which sent his heart racing in an uncontrollable state that not even meditation could calm sometimes. When you weren’t with him, he went looking for you, and when you were, he didn’t want you to leave.

Did you feel the same? He wondered. Such a question made him antsy with anticipation. Uncertainty never deterred him from pushing forward in the past, but you were different. The reason why wasn’t clear, you just were.

A long slightly agitated sigh left him. Irritation not tied to you specifically but to the emotional state he found himself in. Pulling, tugging, grasping: he could feel the discomfort clawing away at him. His fingers dug into his biceps while he fought off the meddlesome thoughts to confront you in vain. Shaking slightly, he couldn’t take it.

Without a plan, his feet carried him to you, which left him at loss for words when you turned towards him. The face that kept him in a chokehold was washed with concern given he appeared to be hyperventilating.

“Are you alright?” Gentle, caring, selfless: you had no idea how much your tone affected him.

“Yeah, I just came here to say…” A fear he never thought would trouble his life reared its ugly head time and time again. “That I hope our last training session wasn’t too much for you.”

“Is that really all you wanted to tell me?”

The pounding in his chest was nearly agonizing, but what was he to do? Ignoring the way he felt about you was only making this pain worse, taking the plunge into the unknown seemed like the only option to lift this weight off his shoulders.

“No, but I’m not sure how to articulate this exactly.” He gestured to the state of him—riddled with nerves that were beyond his understanding. There was no explanation needed, though.

“I know how you feel.” Your smile gave away your own struggle with trying to comprehend how he affected you. “It’s kind of scary,” you added with a chuckle.

“It’s… yeah, scary,” he breathed. A flush of red spread across his face when you stepped closer. Your eyes held such a depth of emotion towards him. His heart began racing again, but this time was different. Instead of uncertainty, elation pounded against his chest. When you wrapped your arms around him, the hesitation from him wasn’t out of figuring out what he should do, but instead disbelief.

Fear had never left him shaken before. Knowing that you not only understood but also returned his feelings made that unease deep within fade, and the longer you held onto each other, the more he distanced himself from it.

#one piece #x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x you #op #op x reader #one piece fluff #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #zoro x you #op x you #zoro roronoa

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ikkyfics · 22 days ago

Note

Dave Lizewski taking care of sick reader? 🤭

With You

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: “You’re good at this, you know?” “Good at what?” He asked, one eyebrow raised. “Taking care of me. Being sweet.”

Warnings: none - just fluffy

A/N: this is my FIRST request from Dave, so yeah, maybe I'm a little emotional - anon, hope you enjoy reading <333

Masterlist

Dave found the day strangely quiet without you. He couldn’t tell what was worse: the growing worry ever since you stopped replying to his messages or the odd silence from the other side of the door when he knocked for the third time. The phone was still open to the last message you had sent earlier: “Allergic reaction hit, I’m wiped out. I’m going to sleep, love you <333.” But since then, absolute silence.

“Please, let her just be passed out from sleep…” He muttered to himself as he finally heard a sound coming from inside.

The door opened slowly, creaking with that dramatic sound that he would have found funny under any other circumstances. And then he saw you: standing, with a limp posture and a lost look, as if you had just snapped out of a trance. Your hair was all messy, your eyes swollen, and your nose slightly red, making you look even more adorable despite the clearly exhausted expression.

“Dave…?” your voice came out in a dragged murmur, your mouth opening into a silly smile that brightened your tired face a little.

You looked relieved, even though you were holding onto the doorknob to avoid toppling over. The allergy meds had clearly left you out of it.

Dave furrowed his brow, stepping forward quickly. The stuffed bear he was holding wobbled awkwardly.

“My God, look at you! You’re all…” He stopped, as if searching for the right word, but gave up. “…limp. You’re super limp. And not in a good way.”

You let out a hoarse little laugh, the sound too light for his liking.

“I am limp. The meds are strong, Dave…” you tried to point at him, as if revealing some secret, but the movement was so slow it looked like it was in slow motion.

He didn’t hesitate anymore; he kicked the door open with his foot, entering as if the house was his. With the other hand, he dropped his bag full of junk onto the living room floor before looking at you again. Dave looked like the very definition of a worried boyfriend, staring at you with wide eyes and a distressed expression.

“Okay, you shouldn’t be standing. You know what? Come here.”

“What? Dave, I’m—”

Before you could protest, he stepped closer and, with careful movement, slid one arm firmly under your knees and the other across your back, lifting you off the floor with ease. You let out a surprised sound, almost a squeak.

“Dave!”

“What? You clearly can’t walk on your own. Don’t complain, you like being pampered.” He said with a little smile, but his eyes still held that worried gleam.

Your body went limp against his, tired from the meds and sleep. The warmth from him and the comfortable smell of his sweatshirt (some mix of fabric softener and his perfume) were practically an invitation to close your eyes and rest. But instead, you glanced at his arm, your brows furrowing slightly in confusion.

“You… working out?”

Dave, who had been focused on getting you to the couch with the utmost gentleness, almost tripped over his own leg. He looked at you, his cheeks starting to redden.

“Huh?”

“Your arms…” Your voice sounded a little drunk from the exhaustion and meds, and you let your hand rest on his bicep, lightly feeling it as if it was an important discovery, “…they’re so strong.”

His face instantly turned bright red. Dave tried to keep his composure, but a nervous laugh escaped, his voice a little high from surprise.

“You’re saying I’m strong? Holy crap, write this down, ‘cause I’m gonna remember it.”

“Hmm, working out secretly…” you murmured, your eyes almost closing from sleep while your hand stayed resting on his arm. “My boyfriend turned into Hercules…”

“Okay, no more delirium. That’s the meds talking, not you.” He chuckled softly, finally reaching the couch and placing you down with such care, as if you were made of glass.

You sank into the cushions, letting out a sigh of relief. Dave knelt in front of you, his eyes scanning your face as if looking for any sign of deterioration. His hand reached up to brush a strand of hair from your cheek.

“Seriously, you really worried me. Don’t disappear like that again, okay? I almost lost it.”

You blinked slowly, your voice coming out quieter now.

“Sorry. I just… passed out. Allergy meds are my kryptonite.”

He nodded, still with that tense, worried look on his face. His hands rested on your knees, warming your skin through the thin fabric of your pajamas.

“It’s okay. I’m here now.”

The simple phrase made your chest warm in a way that had nothing to do with the allergy or the meds. Dave stayed close enough for you to feel his breath, his soft, tender blue eyes watching you. That look of his, full of affection, made you forget any discomfort or unease.

You smiled, your head leaning slightly against the back of the couch.

“You’re good at this, you know?”

“Good at what?” He asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Taking care of me. Being sweet.”

His smile widened, even though he tried to seem nonchalant.

“It’s because I’m the best boyfriend in the world. This is just the basics, babe.”

Before you could reply, he started adjusting all the “tools of war” — as he called the bag full of tissues, medicine, and the teddy bear. Slowly, you started to close your eyes on the couch. He turned just in time to see your head tilt, your face still tired but relaxed. For a moment, he hesitated to make any noise, almost as if he was standing next to one of those cartoon bombs that exploded at the slightest sound. But then you let out a soft groan, your unfocused gaze opening again.

“Why are you standing there… looking at me?” Your voice came out slow and soft, a silly smile playing at the corner of your lips.

Dave chuckled softly, crossing his arms and tilting his head.

“I’m trying to figure out if you’re going to sleep or pass out. There’s a difference, you know?”

You let out something like a laugh, but quickly coughed lightly after. He frowned immediately, his worried look back in full force.

“Okay, that’s enough. You need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.”

The truth hit you like an uncomfortable reminder, but you didn’t have time to respond before he was already in the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets. The noise echoed through the house, much louder than usual, and you slowly turned your head to follow the chaos happening in front of you.

“Dave…” you called softly.

“Stay there and relax. I’m making something nutritious for you.”

The dramatic tchan-tchan-tchan sound of the fridge opening made you bite your lip to keep from laughing. He looked so determined, as if he was about to save the world instead of, probably, causing a disaster. You let your head fall back onto the pillow, watching the show.

In the first few minutes, Dave seemed pretty confident. He even hummed something softly as he put a pot on the stove. But then came the sound of something popping too loudly — followed by a muffled curse.

“Everything okay over there…?” you asked, lifting your neck to peek into the kitchen.

“All under control! Just… Just didn’t know rice could stick so fast.”

“Dave…”

“I told you, it’s all under control!”

The smoke began rising slowly, and you had to bite your tongue to keep from laughing as he ran to the sink, holding the pot like it was a ticking time bomb. The sound of water hitting the hot metal was followed by another worrying sizzle, and he jumped back.

“Okay! No rice. Nobody needs rice.”

“Give it up, I’m not even hungry…”

“No way!” He shouted back, regaining his composure. “Cooking is overrated anyway. Want to know what? Chicken broth counts as soup. You’re drinking this, and you won’t complain.”

He raised the chicken broth box as if it was the definitive solution to all the world’s problems. You laughed again, feeling your cheeks burn from the effort.

“My hero…” you murmured, letting the laughter die down as another yawn took over.

Dave sat down beside you on the couch, placing the steaming bowl on the coffee table, his expression still stubborn but his eyes soft as they watched you closely. He reached out to brush another strand of hair from your face, letting his fingers rest there for a moment near your cheek.

“I tried, okay? I swear I tried.”

“I know.”

The warmth of his hand was comforting, as was the feeling of knowing he was there, trying — even if clumsily — to take care of you.

And the broth wasn’t that bad, I mean, it was a little bland, but it was drinkable — a few spoonfuls.

You let out a light sound, closing your eyes and letting your head fall against his shoulder. Dave relaxed, slowly wrapping an arm around your back to pull you closer.

“It’s okay. I like your disaster.”

He chuckled softly, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“I like you too, even doped up and laughing at me.”

“I’m having fun…”

“And I’m happy you’re laughing.”

The silence came gradually, comfortable and warm. You could feel the steady rhythm of his breath next to you, his arm still firmly holding you close. You were fine. Because he was there.

The comfortable silence of the couch was only interrupted by the soft sound of the TV, where some random movie — hastily chosen by Dave — played without much importance. He had insisted on putting on some light comedy, arguing that “this always helps when people are sick.” You, still a little doped up and sleepy, didn’t have the strength to question it. Now, sitting next to him, your head resting on his shoulder and your legs stretched out across the couch, you felt completely at ease.

Dave looked at the screen every now and then, but the truth was, he spent much more time looking at you. Your lips slightly parted, your nose a little red from exhaustion, and the way you breathed slowly, almost in sync with the ambient music of the movie… He couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you comfortable there?” he asked softly, even though you weren’t exactly awake enough to answer.

Your only reaction was to murmur something unintelligible, snuggling even closer against his shoulder. Dave swallowed hard, frozen, as if any movement might break the delicate moment. Gently, he stretched his arm around you, pulling one of the blankets he brought and draping it lightly over you.

“Done. Now you’re officially a human burrito. Best medicine there is.”

You responded with a muffled grunt, the words drawn out, barely audible:

“Mm… you talk a lot.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“Sorry. I’ll let you sleep.”

For a few minutes, Dave made every possible effort to focus on the movie, trying to ignore the comfortable weight of your head on his shoulder and the soft sound of your breathing. But then, in the middle of the silence, you began murmuring again, your voice trembling and almost childlike.

“Dave… you’re so handsome…”

His eyes widened. He froze in place, his gaze shifting away from you as if the comment had hit him straight in the heart.

“What?”

“Your hair… so fluffy…” You murmured, your voice fading at the end of the sentence. Then came another silence, and he thought you had fallen asleep again. But then: “And your muscles… you’re strong, huh? I could lick your abs if I wasn’t like this, you know?”

Dave’s eyes widened even more, his face turning as red as a tomato.

“What? I— You would…” He whispered desperately, as if he could have a conversation with you in your lethargic state. But you just smiled sleepily, still with your eyes closed, your fingers awkwardly trailing up his arm, giving soft taps on his bicep.

“And that’s all mine…”

“My God…” He murmured to himself, completely stunned. The smile that escaped his lips was inevitable, small and affectionate, as he lowered his eyes to you with an almost silly look.

And then came the silence. This time, definitive. Your chest rose and fell in a calm rhythm, and Dave realized you had, in fact, fallen asleep. He stayed there for a moment, motionless, just absorbing the scene. The movie was still playing on the TV, but he could hear nothing but your peaceful breathing.

Carefully—very carefully—he took his arm from behind you, slowly getting up.

“Okay, time to take you to bed. Better than sleeping all crooked on the couch.”

You didn’t respond, obviously. But when he crouched down to lift you, the gesture was so gentle that you barely moved. Dave held you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, one arm around your back, the other under your knees.

“My God, how do you manage to be both cute and heavy at the same time?” he murmured, as if you could answer.

You just snuggled further into his arms, resting your head on his chest. He smiled, feeling his heart beat fast under the weight of your presence.

When he reached your room, Dave kicked the door open with his foot and walked over to the bed, gently laying you down on the soft mattress. He bent down, pulling the blanket up to your shoulders and adjusting the pillow under your head. For a moment, he just stayed there, watching you sleep. Your relaxed face, your lips curled into an almost imperceptible smile.

“You don’t even know how beautiful you are, do you?” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

When he got up, turning to leave, you murmured again, your voice almost inaudible:

“Stay…”

Dave stopped mid-step, his heart leaping in his chest as he heard the word escape your lips in a trembling whisper. He turned slowly, unsure if he had heard it right. Your face was still buried in the pillow, but he could see the corner of your mouth forming a soft pout, your eyes half-closed as if you were making a monumental effort to fight off sleep.

“What?” he asked quietly, leaning forward.

“Stay…” you repeated, in a slightly whiny tone, your fingers clutching the blanket he had arranged over you.

Dave stood there for a second, completely unsure of what to do. His mind screamed that he should leave, let you rest, but… how could he? How could anyone resist you, with your drawn-out voice and eyes still shining even under the weight of the medication?

“Okay,” he finally answered with a sigh of surrender. “I’ll stay.”

He lay down beside you, settling on the bed and leaving some space between you, but soon you used the last of your strength to pull him closer, your hands softly clutching his shirt. He lay down with you, not resisting, and as soon as he was lying on his side, you curled up against him like a lazy cat, your head going straight to his chest.

“Mm… best pillow…” you murmured, your voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

Dave chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“You’re completely drugged, you know? Tomorrow, you won’t remember any of this.”

“I will.”

“Aha.”

“I remember you’re cute. That you take care of me.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, he looked away to hide the goofy smile that grew on his lips. His fingers started to drum on his arm, as if they were thinking of something, until they gently went up, once again squeezing his bicep like before.

“Nice…” you commented again, now with a sleepy smile that made Dave snort with amusement.

“I think I should stop coming here when you’re sick. This antihistamine is messing with your brain.”

“No, it’s not,” you retorted, dragging the words out. Your eyes finally opened a bit more, meeting his. “I speak the truth. You’re the best boyfriend in the world.”

Dave turned red to the roots of his hair. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again like a fish out of water, until he managed to murmur:

“Do you say that because I’m taking care of you?”

“No.” You pulled the blanket with your hands, turning your face to the side as if pouting, but your soft voice still sounded like pure sweetness. “I say that because it’s true.”

Dave felt his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t explain. Carefully, he adjusted himself in bed until he was lying next to you, finding the position that made you most comfortable. Your body automatically curled up against his, your head finding a perfect spot against his chest.

“Best pillow,” you murmured again, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

“Okay, okay, I got it. I’ll put this on my resume: ‘Boyfriend who doubles as a pillow.’”

The muffled laugh that escaped from you warmed his heart more than he expected. For a few seconds, the room was silent, except for the soft sound of your breathing and the calm beating of his heart. Then, with a slightly softer, almost shy voice, you murmured:

“Thanks for taking care of me, Dave.”

He looked down at you, where your face rested against his chest, your eyes almost closed again. One of his hands moved up, gently caressing your hair, his fingers running through the strands with absurd care.

“You don’t need to thank me, silly. It’s kind of my job, right? To be the best boyfriend in the world.”

You smiled, your eyes opening just enough to look at him.

“If I wasn’t sick, I’d die from kissing you so much right now.”

Dave let out a surprised laugh, his expression melting with both love and amusement at the same time. He tilted his head a little to look at you more clearly.

“Well, then you’d better get better soon. I’m counting on it.”

You laughed softly, closing your eyes again while snuggling closer to him.

“I’ll get better. For you.”

Dave felt his heart tighten in his chest once again, the goofy smile on his lips refusing to go away. He continued stroking your hair, his movements slow and careful, as if he wanted to make you fall asleep faster.

“If you keep saying these things, it’ll be you who kills me, you know? Because I won’t be able to handle it.”

“I’m just telling the truth…” you whispered, your voice already fading into sleep.

Dave stayed there for a while longer, listening to the soft sound of your breathing as he watched your relaxed face against his chest. He knew he’d have to leave at some point, but… not now. Not while you needed him.

And, if he were honest, he needed you just as much as you needed him.

“Sleep well, okay?” he murmured softly, pulling his arms around you gently. “I’m here.”

And, for the first time that afternoon, you fell into a deep sleep, knowing that he was really there.

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winterfleursblog · 1 year ago

Text

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 !

☆ Pairing: Nanami x Fem!reader

☆ Genre: Fluff

☆ Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, very slight swearing. Reader was a student of Jujutsu High.

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒈𝒐 𝒂𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆, 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅

Nanami as your Schoolmate

You two met in the 2nd year of Jujutsu high, and it was literally at a vending machine. That day, he was in a really bad mood, and so he was kicking the machine 'cause it won't drop his drink.

"Goddamn it! This shit isn't working" he exclaimed, and you witnessed all of these quietly. It might be weird, but you actually found him cute while sulking. Even though he looked like that one weird emo classmate you'd definitely avoid, you tapped his shoulder to give him a drink.

He was shocked when he felt your hand tap his shoulder, and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks out of embarrassment. All he could say was "thanks" before you left the scene.

Ever since that moment, you two met in the library, at the convenience store, and almost everywhere you go. It seemed weird how he is offline whenever your online game buddy is offline. You also caught him one time in the library playing your favorite game, but were too shy to approach him 'cause it seemed like he was hiding from the librarian.

One day, you saw each other in the library, and mustered up the courage to ask him, "Hey...are you user SilentAnhilator?"

This was probably the riskiest and most embarrassing thing you've ever done in your life—asking someone you're not close with and at the same time, outing yourself as a gamer.

You expected him to give you a sour look, however, you were met with a blushing teenage Nanami which you still find cute whenever you remember it.

"I....Yes"

You became friends after that incident.

The trio formed (you, Nanami, and Haibara) always went on missions together, where Nanami would remain silent. Of course, he isn't safe from your teasing and Haibara's jokes no matter where you go.

Nanami as your boyfriend

He confessed to you after a year of being colleagues. He realized that the reason he gets awkward around you is not because you were former classmates, but because he liked you.

He decided to confess his feelings after seeing you in the infirmary, heavily injured from a mission.

"Are you okay? Do you need meds? Can you stand? Please, answer me."

That was the first time you ever saw Nanami cry. You asked him why he was so worked up to the point of shedding tears, it's just a stab and a few broken bones—nothing that Shoko can't fix.

"I'll tell you why when...the time is right." He brushed that question off, but your heart was beating fast, hoping that it was more than a friend's concern.

A week later when you were fully recovered, he asked you out for dinner. There, he formally confessed his feelings like a mature man would.

"Y/n, I hope you don't feel uncomfortable, it's just that I have something to confess."

That moment, you could hear your heart beating fast.

"I like you, romantically, as a lover. At first, I didn't know why I felt nervous around you and why... my knees get weak when I see you. I thought I just saw you as a dear friend and a valuable colleague but as time passed, I started seeing you in my dreams and I could tell that it already was beyond platonic..."

You remained silent, still taken aback by his words, face flushed in red.

"...I'm sorry if this is so sudden, but can I date you? I promise to properly court you, and I definitely take relationships seriously."

Seeing you flustered and speechless, he thought he was making you uncomfortable. But in fact, you were just taking time to process your 10-year crush's confession.

"I-I'm sorry, I made my dear friend uncomfortable. I understand if you don't feel the sam—"

"I like you too" was all you could say before hugging him tightly. Immediately, he reciprocated the action by hugging back.

Since that night, he started courting you by giving gifts, talking sweetly, and doing affectionate acts of service. Of course, he remained very respectful. In fact, your first kiss happened only after 3 months of dating.

He is very good in handling his alcohol, and so he always goes with you to office parties (which is always with Jujutsu High teachers).

* f/n=your first name

(He knew that you still had a hangover from the way you typed. Right after getting on the car, he continued to tease you about drunk-flirting with him on your way to Jujutsu High.)

Nanami as your husband

Please read my previous fics to see how he proposed to you 🙏🏻

He is definitely a caring husband who wants nothing but to live a peaceful life with you.

When you two married, you immediately moved to your house in Kuantan, Malaysia. That house was planned for and built for 2 years (through mutual efforts)

Now both retired from being sorcerers, he works a simple job at a bakery down the street while you pursue your dream of being a lawyer.

Since you both decided to live a simple life, he used his savings for the past 10 years in funding your daily expenses (he still earns a constant sum from his humble job at the bakery).

One day, you got sick and he had just finished his shift at the bakery.

Notes: I love him so much I'm so delusional but I don't think I could ever find a man like him.

#jjk #jjk spoilers #nanami comfort #nanami kento #au #nostalgia #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #husband material #i love him #pls marry me #boyfriend #text #headcanon

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bvidzsoo · 11 months ago

Text

Who am I? (Part 2)

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: manhandling, smut, cursing, violence, toxicity

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

Word count: 14,7k

Summary: Jeong Yunho remained an enigma to you despite knowing him for over two months now. An extraordinary med student by day and a menacing gang member by night. There wasn't a label put to your relationship, and you liked it that way, but what happens when you finally face a disagreement, which makes you question the whole meaning of whatever is between Yunho and yourself. Is it really worth it for you? Or are the feelings too strong already to break it off?

A/N: Uh...yeah. I advise you check out Part 1 before reading this, thank u!! A second part was really unnecessary BUT I saw one picture of Yuyu and uh...my brain decided to work on its own and come up with a continuation, lol. But I think I'm finally ready to end their story as it is in here (unless I randomly get inspired again, save me). Tbh, this took an unexpected turn even for myself lol, I'm giving the side eye to Mr. Jeong Yunho currently. He's not that toxic, uh, but he's got it in him ngl, excuse this little silly guy for now. I hope you enjoy and your feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy now! ^^

⟨Part 1⟩

There wasn’t a label to our relationship. We just…were. The two of us, together, in some weird way. I don’t know how we worked out, or why we worked out, but two months later Yunho and I were still hanging out and…sleeping together. It was a peculiar feeling—not knowing what we exactly were—but it was also freeing. I knew I didn’t have to question us; Yunho just brought that sense of safety with himself. Even in my previous committed relationships I haven’t felt this safe—this assured that the person next to me was fully committed to me, and only me. Yunho was—the same. He was still weird in my eyes even if I have grown somewhat used to his behavior. To the Jeong Yunho everyone knew from university, and the Jeong Yunho who seemed to be truly him. I knew both sides of him by now and it made me think that he’s just simply a versatile person, as he had early in our relationship said, he had a colorful personality and he wasn’t afraid to use this to his own advantage. He knew how to portray himself to be liked by those around him, but he wasn’t scared to let his ‘darker’ side show through when the situation called for it. He was intriguing, and he certainly knew how to keep you focused on him—locked in. He was like a vice, one you could never let go of unless someone noticed that you were withering away and finally offered help, a shoulder to lean on. I wasn’t sure if that is where I stood currently, if I needed someone to help me out—to take me away from him. I didn’t even know if I wanted my life to—be like it was before the two of us knew each other like this.

Yunho was mysterious and he never disclosed anything about himself if it wasn’t necessary, I only knew the basics about him. He loved coffee, but would prefer a tea rather than the iced energizer. He struggled to go to sleep early and often his nights were ridden with nightmares, causing his sleep to be restless, thus he was often tired in the mornings. Surprisingly enough, he was a morning person, and enjoyed going on morning runs, no matter the weather. Yunho loved staying in on the weekends to watch cheesy movies, and perhaps if this came as a surprise, his talent in baking came as an even bigger surprise. He was resilient and hard-working, not once slacking or behind on his assignments, only urging me on to do my own as we often sat down to study together. And he had money—more than necessary, in my opinion—yet never flaunted it around. Not in a very obvious way, of course, unless he was taking us out on dates in high-end and super fancy restaurants on the rich side of the city, sending me over-priced silk dresses with a note attached to it, Wear it tonight. Yunho was distinctive in every sense of the word and he was certainly luring me in more and more as time passed. I couldn’t tell whether that was smart or not, there were plenty of things I still didn’t know about him. His secrets were well kept, yet sometimes I could see through the cracks. He was in a gang and he was doing illegal things, things which perhaps were dangerous and would certainly drive me away from him if I knew about them. But Yunho made sure I remained oblivious to them as much as I could and I never complained—unless it started directly affecting me.

The halls of our university were busy as everyone was in recess, walking down the hallways, everyone headed to their own business. I was done for now, I only had one more class later in the afternoon, but Yunho wouldn’t be free until late in the afternoon. The weather was extremely beautiful today, compared to the chilly and windy days we’ve had these past weeks, and so we took advantage of that as we hoarded outside the university’s cold stone walls, soaking up the sunlight as best as we could as we were sitting on a big blanket spread out in the grass. Mingi was with us, laying on his back as he had a book above his head, eye narrowed and nose scrunched as he had lowered the book uncomfortably close to his face.

“Hey,” He spoke up, nudging Yunho with his foot as Yunho was sitting by him, “hand me your sunglasses. You don’t need them.”

Yunho hummed once, busy eating his salad full of nutrients, before he took his sunglasses off his head and threw them at Mingi. I continued underlining the important information from my book for my upcoming assignment, sighing loudly when I realized I still had ten pages to flip through. The warm sun still didn’t have its full power, but I welcomed it dearly as my skin craved its warmth. I never dealt well with the cold, broody, winter days. My sigh caught Yunho’s attention, however, and his eyes found mine as I glanced his way.

“What’s the matter?” He asked quietly as he scooched closer, mouth full of his homemade salad.

“Nothing.” I mumbled and went back to underlining another sentence as my eyes quickly ran over the fancy words, trying to connect them to what I knew would be useful for my research.

“Want some help?” Yunho asked quietly, settling in a comfortable seat next to me, his broad shoulder knocking into mine as he bumped our shoulders together lightly. I shook my head wordlessly and continued diligently working as Yunho quietly finished his lunch and Mingi turned around, laying on his stomach as he raised his legs and started lightly swinging them in the air. It was a cute sight; it brought a smile to my lips as I glanced his way. Mingi had class in half an hour and he decided to hang out with us when he saw Yunho and I walking down the corridor. Mingi and I were in different groups, therefore our timetables differed at times.

“Is this for your latest assignment?” Yunho asked as he placed his empty container back into his backpack, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He wore a grey hoodie over a beige turtleneck today, tucked into his favorite light blue, washed out, ripped jeans. It was the first time he didn’t wear his usual colorful outfits to university, and it certainly had turned some heads in the morning when his leather jacket was on him as well.

“Yeah, got two weeks to finish it.” I mumbled defeated, catching the slight thumping of my head. The breeze lightly picked up and brushed my copper strands against my face, until Yunho’s long fingers curled into the strands and pushed them behind my ear. I glanced at him from my peripheral and noticed him looking at me deeply, his brown eyes warm and light in the sunlight, like an amber cracking in the lively fire. I couldn’t help but softly smile, my body softening as I leaned into his side, his presence calming. Mingi let out a long sigh and there was a quiet thump as he let his head fall on his book, placed on the blanket. I chuckled as I watched his theatrics, Yunho straightening his right leg and kicking at Mingi’s foot.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist today, princess?” Yunho teased his best friend, earning a groan from Mingi.

“Shut up,” He moaned out in frustration as he pushed himself up, checking his wristwatch, “I fucking hate the professor I have class with in fifteen minutes, I don’t want to go.”

“Don’t go then,” I pipped up, grinning at him, “I’ve got the notes. I’ll let you have them.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart, Y/N?” Mingi grinned for a second, running his hands through his black hair, ruffling it up, “But he doesn’t like me and has a personal vendetta against me, so I gotta go. Two more weeks and I’ll never have to see his face again.”

I raised my eyebrows at Mingi, about to destroy his fantasy, “Until our next module with him, which is in like��three months.”

“Shut up.” Mingi groaned as he got up from the blanket and dusted his jeans off, grabbing his book and backpack, pocketing his phone as Yunho handed it over to him. He thanked him quietly and checked his wristwatch again, very clear on his face that he didn’t want to go, “See you around.”

“My sunglasses.” Yunho reached a hand out, patiently waiting for Mingi to hand them over, but the younger one just chuckled and stuck his tongue out at Yunho.

“You wish. These are mine now.” And with that, he took off, making Yunho huff next to me as I chuckled, amused by their antics. Besides myself, I think Mingi is the only person who knows how Yunho is—who he truly is.

“That rascal.” Yunho muttered underneath his breath and I smiled, going back to the remaining six pages I still had to read, “You sure you don’t need help?”

“Yeah,” I hummed, “You’ve helped me enough before.”

“And I’ll keep helping you, it’s not a big deal.” I raised my head and turned to look at Yunho as his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his expression serious. He looked calm, his mind probably quiet for once. He was a man who’s thoughts ran miles per hour. My fingers itched to reach out and to be run through his hair, massaging the skin of his nape, but I refrained from doing so—the two of us were never too affectionate with each other out in public. It’s not because we were keeping whatever was going on between each other a secret, it’s just that neither one of us was a big fan of showing intimacy in front of others. Yunho was subtle with it, and I just simply refrained from such gestures, feeling uncomfortable by strangers seeing us and judging us for what we were doing. But there were little moments when we both gave in to these urges, and I watched as Yunho leaned forward and pressed his soft lips against my right cheek, lips lingering against my skin as he breathed out against it, nose pressing against my heated skin. It came naturally that I flushed whenever he kissed my cheek, it felt intimate, sweet even. Something which was a nice change when it came to Yunho, who was a passionate and reactive man, indulging to his urges and whatever he was feeling in the moment.

“I should head home soon, have lunch and sleep some before my class.” I spoke up as Yunho finally pulled back, eyes soft as his lower lip jutted out.

“Want me to drive you home?”

“No, the weather is nice, I’ll walk.” Our serene ambivalence was broken the second there was a shout of Yunho’s name and a rushed man running our way, his brown hair disheveled as his backpack slung messily around on his back. Wooyoung wore a bright red jacket and black jeans so long it made me wonder how he hadn’t faceplanted already as he neared us. He had a wide grin on his lips and I felt Yunho shifting, his body pressing more firmly into mine, almost pushing me away.

“Hi, guys!” Wooyoung greeted loudly, disturbing the few people around us who had the same recreational idea in mind as us. Wooyoung was panting as he leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees.

“Hello, Wooyoung.” I greeted him back politely. He was one of Yunho’s friends, an obnoxiously loud man, but with a pure heart and good intentions. He was blunt, but also very caring. He was a free spirit which his small body couldn’t fully contain, bursting with the light he had to offer to the world. Wooyoung was a literature student and he absolutely loved what he was studying, often quoting something from the books he’s read or was currently reading. He had his nose in a book at all times, it was endearing to see. However, despite Yunho never voicing it, I felt the distaste he had towards the boy. Perhaps it was the shameless flirting Wooyoung seemed to be doing with everyone around him that Yunho disliked so much, and he often whatnot made it quite visible when Wooyoung hung out with us—at least when I was around too. Or so Mingi had told me one afternoon as we had hung out between classes, grabbing a coffee. Despite Mingi and I being in the same major, our somewhat friendship only kicked off after I became a prominent person in Yunho’s life. Figures it would have happened at some point, it seemed to me that Mingi was the most precious person to Yunho after himself—he could be quite selfish at times.

“What are you up to?” Wooyoung asked animatedly and I chuckled, closing my book. I have decided I have had enough for today.

“I was just about to head home, don’t know about Yunho, though.” As I went to grab my bag, I felt a heavy arm draped around my shoulders, Yunho’s long, cold, fingers curling tightly against my shoulder, squeezing lightly. I paused for a second and looked back at him, one eyebrow raised, but he didn’t spare me a glance as he was looking straight at Wooyoung.

“I’m headed to the library. I’ve got two hours before my next class.” His voice was cold, yet he had an eerily friendly smile on his lips. Wooyoung paid him no mind as he grinned and nodded, grabbing his phone out of his pocket as he tapped away on the screen. I placed my book into my bag and glanced at Yunho when he still didn’t release me, “Care to join me?”

Wooyoung nodded eagerly as he put his phone away, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, “Sure, I’m waiting for my cousin to come pick me up. But until then we could hang out. I’ve got a new book I have to start reading, the timing is perfect, if you ask me.”

“Sure.” Yunho chuckled, but it lacked any friendliness. Wooyoung still didn’t seem to notice it. I cleared my throat and threw Yunho a look as I peeled his arm off me, getting to my feet. My bottom had gone numb at some point and I shook my legs out, groaning at the stabbing feeling in my feet.

“You’ve gone numb?” Wooyoung asked with a chuckle as he watched me amused, and I nodded with a grin.

“Sure did, I think I’ve been sitting in the same spot for an hour now.” I said as I grabbed my bag, but was surprised to find Yunho holding onto it, and not letting go. I raised my eyebrows at him and noted how his jaw was clenching tightly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask whether he was alright or not, but him suddenly standing up took me off guard.

“Shake it out like this—” Wooyoung speaking up got my attention as I turned my head to look at him, feeling Yunho’s looming presence over my shoulder as he pressed up against me, firm chest flushed against my back. Wooyoung was goofily jumping around, shaking his ass rather than his legs, and it made me laugh at the imagery in front of me. My laughter prompted Wooyoung to laugh as well, making him stop his antics.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll refrain from shaking my ass around and disturbing the people around us,” I said amused, making Wooyoung pout, “I’m sure they didn’t sign up for it when they decided to enjoy the sunlight—which is slowly going away.”

I sighed sadly, the clouds gathering around as the breeze was picking up, urging me on to zip up my coat. I looked back at Yunho and signaled for him to hand me my bag over, however, the displeasure in his expression took me off guard. It’s been long since I have seen him this hostile. Perhaps since the last time we had gone out on a date and the waiter kept flirting with me the whole time as if Yunho wasn’t even there at the table, sitting with me.

“Hey, if it’s sunny tomorrow too,” Wooyoung suddenly proposed, eyes shining with excitement, “Want to go play some basketball? It’s been long since I played, but I’ve still got it in me—promise.”

I hummed in thought and yanked my bag out of Yunho’s hold when he wouldn’t let go still, giving him a small glare. What was up with him? He’d been fine just minutes ago. Why was he acting up all of a sudden?

“I mean, I’m not big on sports, but I could definitely use some exercise.” I turned to look at Yunho, “Yunho? What about you?”

“I’m not into basketball.” He fired quickly, throwing a glare Wooyoung’s way, but the younger one was either really good at ignoring the murderous look on Yunho’s face or he just simply didn’t notice. The later was probably better, but it was also only angering Yunho more.

“Sure, you don’t have to come. I’ve got other friends who like it, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll like them.” Wooyoung was babbling on, obviously not noticing the simmering anger in Yunho’s eyes. I cleared my throat and smiled tensely, a little off-thrown by the situation, by Yunho’s behavior, “I’ve been wanting to introduce you to them for a while now.”

Yunho scoffed loudly, and that finally caught Wooyoung’s attention as his eyebrows lightly furrowed, confusion written all over his face as I cleared my throat awkwardly.

“Sure, sounds cool.” But I forced a smile on my lips before clapping my hands together, and taking a small step away from Yunho’s side. I needed to get going now, “I’ll be on my way though, enjoy your time in the library, you guys.”

“Have a lovely afternoon, Y/N.” Wooyoung called cutely, a dimple showing as his lips were pulled into a big smile.

“You too, Wooyoung.” I smiled back at him before turning to face Yunho, wanting to say my goodbyes to him as well, except that I was greeted by a big hand wrapping around my jaw and pulling me forward as he painfully crashed his lips against mine. A surprised noise left the back of my throat, eyes wide as Yunho forced my lips apart with his, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. He’s never done anything like this in public before, and I found it hard to react as I was taken aback, heart suddenly racing in my chest. Before I could reciprocate the kiss, Yunho was already pulling away, my lower lip between his teeth as he bit down on it painfully, making my eyebrows furrow as I grabbed his wrist and pushed his hold off my face, giving him a glare but a confused look as well as my lips were pulsing, hot, and coated with Yunho’s saliva from the messy and aggressive kiss he had just given me. I didn’t want to vocalize my thoughts, which would’ve been a loud what the fuck, Yunho, so I just deepened my glare as he stared deeply into my eyes, anger still simmering in them. His irrational behavior had no sense and I shook my head when I realized he was turning this into a staring contest, of who would give in first—that being me, of course, as I wasn’t in the mood for childish games. Besides, I knew Yunho hated it when I dismissed him, and that’s what he deserved for the behavior he had just exhibited. When my eyes fell on Wooyoung again, he was looking away awkwardly, cheeks flushed as his lips were in a tight line. I felt sorry for him and also humiliated when I felt Yunho trying to close the gap between our bodies, but I cleared my throat and stepped around him.

“Okay, goodbye.” I said loudly as I gave Yunho a pointed glare, Wooyoung’s wave weak as I turned and stalked off, leaving the two males behind. And I knew Wooyoung wouldn’t hang out with Yunho today, the older one’s attitude too off-putting for Wooyoung, who was simply nice and friendly with me. And if Yunho texted me later today, he certainly wasn’t getting a reply. I did not like being treated like an object, like a doll. And I certainly did not like being presented as someone who had ownership over themselves by another person. It was the one thing Yunho never truly, fully, understood during our relationship as he was a possessive and overly protective man. I would not be branded as his, nor treated like a piece of doll.

It had been a few days since Yunho and I had spoken, due to a multitude of reasons. The most pressing one was the way he acted when Wooyoung had approached us, and perhaps the fact that he saw no faults in his attitude when he texted a half-assed apology later that evening. But another reason was life catching up with the both of us. I had to take up more shifts at the convenience store as I was starting to run short on money while the deadline to pay my fees at the university was dangerously nearing, and Yunho had not long ago started his residency at the local hospital. He didn’t have a fixed schedule yet, but he preferred taking the night shifts more often than not, sometimes letting me stay overnight at his apartment alone. I never understood how he does it, but whenever I woke up there was homemade breakfast laid out on the table nicely in his living room, with Yunho freshly showered and scrolling through his phone as he lazily dried his hair with a towel. I would often walk up to him and help him out, taking the towel out of his hand as I rubbed it against his damp hair, making Yunho sigh loudly when I would run my fingers through his hair, softly massaging his scalp. Usually in the mornings nothing much was said between the two of us, and I preferred it that way. I liked the calm and quiet, having the chance to sort out my plans for the day I had ahead of me. But it’s been almost two weeks since I slept over, and I couldn’t help but sigh as I realized I was thinking about Yunho again. We’ve never fought before, never even went a day without texting each other, even if just briefly. It was a little unnerving to realize how big part of my life Yunho had become, how his absence was unsettling and left me feeling agitated and unsafe. I should have known better that allowing him into my life would bring consequences, and even if we weren’t a defined item, I didn’t know where we stood now that we weren’t talking. It was probably my fault, I was the one ignoring him, but I felt like this was my last attempt at trying to get him to understand that he couldn’t just claim me and make me his propriety. I hated these things; they made me feel dirty and uncomfortable.

As I was wiping the counter clean, earbuds in and bobbing my head to the music as clients had been quite scarce today, I heard the bell chime loudly over my music, quickly making me switch it off and take the earbuds out. I watched as a tall man walked inside, all-bulked up underneath the black turtleneck and form fitting jeans he wore. We looked at each other and I welcomed him, his face concealed by a facemask and a low hanging baseball cap. The sight wasn’t unusual, it didn’t ring any alarm bells in my head as I went back to wiping off the dust from the counter, crouching and putting the rag away once I was done. I grabbed the can of soda I had put away for myself and cracked it open as I stood, startled when I found the man right across me, the counter separating the two of us. He was alarmingly tall, perhaps taller than Yunho himself, and I had to tip my head slightly back to look him in the eyes. The guy had sharp eyes, dark, yet warm. I was sure I haven’t seen him around here before and I took the cup of ramen he pushed towards me wordlessly, scanning the item quickly.

“Want anything else?” I asked the customer in a monotone voice, keeping my face neutral, “We’ve got a promotion if you buy a drink of your choice with the ramen.”

The man made a humming sound before he nodded and stalked off towards the fridges, my eyes following his every move. He looked intimidating like this, with his face concealed and clothing dark. And the fact that he wasn’t talking was unnerving as well, but I pushed such thoughts to the back of my head as he returned with a can of soda identical to mine.

“This good?” He finally asked, voice not too deep nor raspy, slightly cracking at the end. I had to admit, he had a pleasant voice and I slightly relaxed as I nodded, scanning the soda in as well.

“Yeah, it’s a mix of grape and something lemony, the sparkling water really elevates the taste of it.” I answered him and the man nodded, grabbing his wallet out of his long coat’s pocket as I took a bag and placed his items inside, closing his tab. I let him know the amount he had to pay and took the money when he pushed it towards me, ignoring the way his finger brushed against my skin. It made me shiver, but I hoped he didn’t notice. His touch was cold and it reminded me of Yunho’s cold hands holding my body firmly. I quickly grabbed the change and handed it back to the customer, making sure our skins didn’t touch again as I flashed him a generic smile, thanking him for purchasing at us.

“Do you often work here?” He asked as he took off towards the door, making my eyebrows furrow as I glanced at him uneasily.

“Sometimes.” I chose to stay ambiguous as the man nodded once before saying his goodbyes, prompting me to do the same as I watched him leave through the glass door and then windows of the convenience store. I shook off the uneasy feeling as the man got inside a vehicle, one which looked slightly familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why and from where. But the little voice inside my head told me that I had seen it before. Before I could dwell more on it, a peculiar sight blocked my view of the strange customer leaving with his car. Yunho had pushed open the door of the convenience store slowly, his warm eyes falling on me and holding my gaze. I wouldn’t have thought not seeing him for a few days would send my heart into a frenzy as I took in his appearance, wavy hair concealed by a black fuzzy beanie with white stars on it. His jacket was missing despite the chilly breeze outside, but I suppose the fuzzy grey and white sweater which reached his knees was enough to keep him warm enough. He wore leather pants, and the longer I looked at his outfit the more it looked like he had borrowed his clothes from Mingi. Lately, Yunho had been experimenting with his clothing, and I could’ve sworn I saw Mingi wearing the exact same sweater Yunho was wearing right now. However, what made my mouth go dry and heartrate increase faster was the huge bouquet of blue Hyacinths he was holding in his hands, expression leveled until he reached the counter, leaning his hips against it. I remained silent as I watched Yunho, hands slightly shaking as I pushed them behind my back, clasping my fingers together. In all the two months we’ve been seeing each other, Yunho had not once given me flowers. It was an unusual sight and it was slightly unnerving, new, but it felt good.

“Hello,” He greeted quietly, searching for my eyes as I avoided eye contact. I was still irritated that he didn’t want to understand me and listen to me, but I knew one look at his face would make me forgive him instantly, “Uh, you’ve been ignoring me.”

I hummed as my eyes fell on the blue Hyacinths, their scent strong and refreshing. I’ve always loved these flowers; they were the harbingers of spring. I remained silent and Yunho sighed, suddenly moving. I finally looked up as the bouquet of Hyacinths was placed on the counter and pushed towards me, “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like it when I act like that, but it’s who I am, Y/N.”

I rolled my eyes but accepted the flowers as I took them from Yunho, cradling them against my chest as I looked down at them, closing my eyes as I sniffed their strong perfume, sweet yet biting, “I’ve missed you.”

It was the lack of hesitation he said it with that made me look up at Yunho wide eyed, mouth going dry at his sudden confession. Yunho rarely voiced his emotions, often times only being vocal about them during sex, which wasn’t a huge problem to me, but it would’ve felt nice sometimes hearing him talk about them without being buried deep in me and high of endorphins.

“Yeah,” I muttered after clearing my throat, feeling shy all of a sudden, “Life’s been quiet without you.”

Quiet, yet so chaotic as my thoughts were plagued with Yunho. I didn’t feel like letting him know that, it felt like I was overstepping some invisible boundary we have set. Yunho, though, seemed to understand as he hummed and nodded once, reaching over the counter and taking my hand in his as he pried it away from the bouquet. His palm was searing hot and his metal rings cold as they pressed against my skin, and I sighed, squeezing his fingers between mine, biting my lower lip as I looked down at our joined hands.

“Let’s hang out tonight,” Yunho proposed, voice quiet, “The guys invited me out, but afterwards you could crash at my place.”

I hummed and nodded without much hesitation, agreeing to his plan. I didn’t have it in me to turn down his invitation, I have missed him too. I wanted to spend time with him, I wanted to be close to him again.

“Seonghwa said Sooyoung was coming too.” Hearing my friend’s name made me smile as I finally looked up into Yunho’s chocolate brown eyes, noting the happiness written all over his face. He was probably glad I wanted to hang out with him, finally not dismissing him anymore.

“Cool, I’ll talk to her and we’ll go together.” I spoke up, making Yunho pout as his grip against my hand tightened, “We’ll be spending the night together either way, I haven’t had the chance to hang out with Sooyoung this week yet. I miss her.”

“More than me?” Yunho raised his eyebrows and I chuckled, softly prying my hand out of his and crouching down to try and find something I could place the bouquet in.

“Bros before hoes.” I cracked a cheeky smile and it made Yunho laugh, a sound I rarely had the chance to hear. It was usually him the one making me laugh, it felt good being able to make him laugh. I grinned as I watched Yunho chuckle to himself before composing himself and stepping back as I found a little glass vase, perfect to hold my bouquet of blue Hyacinths until I went home, “Text me the details.”

“Sure, I’ll see you later, angel.” He winked and I ignored the way my cheeks instantly flushed, never quite used to Yunho’s flirty side as it rarely made its appearance. I stood up and waved as Yunho left the convenience store, eyes on me until he rounded the corner, making me grin as my eyes fell on the flowers and remained on them. Perhaps he could bring me flowers more often, I wouldn’t mind.

After finishing my shift, I met up with Sooyoung at her place, the two of us cooking some nice late lunch and gossiping about everything we haven’t told each other through text. It seemed like her and Seonghwa were going out now, but they weren’t quite in a relationship yet. She said this was working for her as she wanted to make sure Seonghwa truly was the man he portrayed himself to be, and she then asked about Yunho and I. She knew we haven’t talked in a while, so I told her about him showing up with flowers and confessing that he had missed me. It sent Sooyoung into a giggling mess, amusing me as I watched her ramble on about how Yunho should just ask me to be his girlfriend already, since everyone around us seems to be thinking that we are boyfriend and girlfriend. I reassured her that I didn’t need a label to feel comfortable with how things were between us, and Sooyoung confessed she was jealous of that, she could never be this easy-going. She needed the utmost security before entering a relationship. I could understand her.

After talking to Yunho, he sent us the location of the BBQ place we were meeting at, and told us to be there at eight sharp. I wasn’t in the mood to head home before leaving to said location, so Sooyoung let me wear one of the pretty dresses she owned. It was a black off-shoulder, long sleeved dress, and it reached just above my calves, the fabric warm and form fitting. I styled my hair in simple waves and applied a coral lip-gloss on my lips, matching the color of my hair as Sooyoung grinned at me while wearing her cute, but casual clothes as well. It wasn’t often that I wore dresses, but tonight I wanted to look nicer than usually, and, besides, this dress was one of the few clothing items Sooyoung owned that actually fit me as our height difference stopped us from sharing cute clothes with each other. She was half a head taller, the dress on her was a lot shorter than on my form, but it still looked nice. I had packed my clothes in my backpack and promised Sooyoung I would give the dress back once I have washed it. After finishing up and making sure everything we had used for our hair was unplugged, and the makeup put away, Sooyoung locked up and we left her apartment.

By the time we reached the BBQ place the streets were busy with people roaming around to find entertainment as it was a Friday evening, and the pub Yunho told us to meet them at was buzzing with life, filled to the brim with people. As we walked inside, I noted there weren’t any empty tables as Sooyoung craned her neck and looked around for the people we were here with. And she quickly found them. They were sat at a large round table, towards the middle of the room, and the table had already various flavored Soju bottles littered around, with the meat being grilled by Mingi as we came to a stop next to the table. It seemed like a few seats were empty, and Yunho wasn’t here yet as I looked at the familiar faces, searching for his. Seonghwa and Mingi looked at us at the same time, and Mingi was happy to see me as he said hi loudly, talking over the hubbub of the pub. Seonghwa was quickly on his feet, pressing a swift kiss against Sooyoung’s red lips, making her blush as she timidly greeted everyone sitting at the table. She sat next to Seonghwa, and as I didn’t know which seat was taken or not, I opted to play it safe and sat right next to her after Seonghwa assured me that the seat hadn’t been claimed yet. Jongho sat at the table, an empty chair between him and Mingi, right across from me. He seemed to be busy with his phone, greeting us hastily before he went back to it, fingers moving fast as he was typing. Mingi shot him a few glances, but didn’t say much to him. The seat to my right was empty, but not for long. Suddenly, I heard loud and shrill laughter coming from behind, and as I turned, I watched as Wooyoung was talking to someone taller than him, holding three bottles of undone Soju in his hands. The man he was talking to pat him on the shoulder before he beelined it to a different table, Wooyoung coming to a stop next to me. He looked ecstatic to see me, and I chuckled.

“Hi, Wooyoung.” I said with a laugh as he stumbled a bit, slamming the Soju bottles on the table accidentally, making Jongho glare at him.

“Careful.”

“Sorry.” Wooyoung pouted at the grumpy man before taking his seat between Jongho and myself, clapping his hands together, “Hi, Y/N! I haven’t seen you in quite a while.”

“Just four days or something.” I muttered with a chuckle and Wooyoung grinned, undoing the grapefruit flavored Soju.

“Yeah, and those are more than enough to make me miss you.” I rolled my eyes at the blatant flirting, but failed to notice the sharp gaze Mingi sent Wooyoung’s way as he had heard his words. Even Seonghwa paused for a second as his lips pulled into a straight line, but Sooyoung quickly had his attention once again, “Want some?”

I nodded eagerly as Wooyoung poured some Soju for me and I nudged Sooyoung with my elbow, raising an empty glass at her, “Want some?”

“Sure.” She grinned and Wooyoung poured some for her as well, “We have some catching up to do. These guys already finished four bottles.”

“We’re only half an hours late, please.” I said with a laugh before Wooyoung, Sooyoung, and I clanked our glasses together, downing the Soju. The taste of it was sour, yet not unbearable at all, and I took the Soju glass before pouring another shot for myself. Wooyoung grinned as encouraged me and poured himself another one as well, downing it at the same time with me. I groaned and thanked Jongho as he pushed his untouched Fanta towards me, letting me take a few sips before I handed it back to him. He seemed to be done with whatever he was doing on his phone as he had his hands clasped together and placed on the table, watching Mingi and giving him instructions on how to grill the meat better. Wooyoung chimed up next to me, but suddenly I felt big hands pressing against my bare shoulders, making me stiffen as my back straightened. I quickly looked back, but upon seeing Yunho’s towering form looming over me, I relaxed.

“Hi.” I said with a small smile, goosebumps erupting on my skin as Yunho’s calloused hands slowly dragged closer to my neck, his forefingers pressing into my nape. Yunho’s expression was neutral as his eyes slipped onto Wooyoung for a split second, and I didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched. It took me a few seconds to realize, and I sighed as I gave Yunho a look, begging him not to start this again. Wooyoung was just a friendly guy and whatever he said and did, it wasn’t anything serious. He was Yunho’s friend for fucks sake, it was Yunho who introduced us to each other. If he couldn’t stand the guy, why the hell did he continue hanging out with him—why did he even introduce me to him? I wanted a nice night out, not a tense filled evening where I couldn’t even look in Wooyoung’s direction without Yunho blowing up from anger.

“Hi.” Yunho muttered and he leaned down, his face close to mine. I looked in his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to make the first move. His nose twitched and I knew he hated all the eyes on us, but nonetheless, he still pressed a lasting kiss against my lips, keeping his eyes open as I didn’t close mine either. I gave him a warning glare as he pulled away and stepped back, his hands leaving my body as he tapped Wooyoung on the back a little too harshly before he took off towards his seat, which was in between Mingi and Jongho. I chuckled and shook my head for a second, amused but irritated at the same time. Sooyoung gave me a questioning look as I poured her and myself some Soju, Seonghwa and Mingi having a heated debate about whether the meat was better overcooked or undercooked. Jongho seemed to be disgusted as he voiced his opinion that it was only perfect if it was in the middle. I felt a small nudge against my wrist on the table and I looked towards Wooyoung, who was looking at me shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you think I make Yunho uncomfortable?” He whispered as he slightly leaned closer. My eyes fell on said person quickly, watching the way Yunho’s eyes darkened. I looked back at Wooyoung and forced on a small smile, feeling bad that I had to lie to him.

“That’s just how he is, don’t mind him.” I tried to answer as ambiguously as I could, but Wooyoung just pouted.

“So, he doesn’t like me.” He concluded and I frowned, feeling bad.

“He’s your friend, Wooyoung.” I tried, but Wooyoung just shrugged, “Of course, he likes you.”

“I mean,” He hummed and grabbed some peanuts from the bowl placed close to him, “not necessarily. We know each other through Jongho.”

“Yeah, and I question myself each day what was I thinking when I befriended you.” It seemed like Jongho was eavesdropping in on our conversation, but Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind as he made an offended sound, lurching towards Jongho. Jongho yelped as Wooyoung’s arms went around his neck and aggressively tried to press a kiss against Jongho’s cheek, making the younger one fight for his life. I started laughing at the small commotion, quickly stabilizing the stool Wooyoung sat on as it tipped towards Jongho, making him fall off.

“Enough, hey.” Seonghwa called out and grabbed his chopsticks, waving them threateningly in Jongho and Wooyoung’s direction, making the two settle down instantly. Jongho’s eyes could’ve killed as he glared at Wooyoung, but the boy seemed unthreatened as he sat back in his seat satisfied, grinning widely. I chuckled as Sooyoung and I looked at each other, her shaking her head. Mingi cleared his throat and motioned at the table.

“Meat is done, let’s start eating.” And so everyone dug in, Yunho’s eyes barely leaving me and making me almost choke on my food when I noticed. I raised my eyebrows at him, a silent question, but he didn’t react, face staying neutral. I just shrugged and continued eating, the food delicious and the meat well cooked, complimenting Mingi for his work, watching as a gloating smirk appeared on his lips. It made me chuckle as Jongho started arguing with him, telling him that the meat would’ve been worse if he didn’t help out, making Mingi hush him with an inoffensive threat. It didn’t take long for Wooyoung to nudge my wrist again, and I found it cute as I looked at him amused.

“So, uh…” He cleared his throat before proceeding with what he had to say, “I started this new book. It’s dark romance ad thriller. Want to hear about it? Maybe you’ll like it, I can lend it to you.”

“Sure.” I smiled and nodded my head, seeing from the corner of my eyes as Yunho took a big swing of his beer, eyes staring daggers at Wooyoung and me, but I ignored him. I wasn’t in the mood to focus on his jealous theatrics, and instead paid full attention to what Wooyoung had to say.

And Wooyoung had a lot of things to say from then on, barely letting me pay attention to anyone else as he talked about anything that came to his mind, themes going from absurd to quite serious. It was nice to see the layers he had, and he was an entertaining person. I’ve always found talking to him quite easy, smooth, and flowing by itself. I tried not to pay much attention to Yunho, who looked more and more displeased as the hours went by, at some point turning his body in a way that he wouldn’t see Wooyoung and I anymore. It was childish, really, I was simply just socializing. I wasn’t giving any signals to Wooyoung, and he was also keeping everything cordial besides the little nudges he did against my wrist with his pinky. There was absolutely nothing to be worried about. Mingi and Jongho had gone out a few minutes ago to smoke their cigars, and for once, Wooyoung seemed enthralled by whatever him and Seonghwa were discussing at the moment, I hadn’t paid attention to them. The more time passed, the more drinks appeared on the table and it was quite visible that Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Mingi were quite tipsy, Sooyoung’s eyes droopy, yet she refused to head home just yet. I hadn’t drank much, therefore it wasn’t hitting me and…Yunho had a high tolerance for alcohol; however, I lost count of how many beers he’s had. Probably more than necessary. As I looked up, I was startled to find Yunho standing all of a sudden, eyes deadly as they were set on me. I gulped, for a second feeling like I was in trouble, until I reminded myself that Yunho was just overreacting. I watched his tall frame, which was hugged by ripped greyish-black jeans and a simple black t-shirt hanging loosely around his torso, a silver chain dangling around his neck. Some while ago he started wearing a single silver earring in his left ear, and he had it on tonight as well. A few rings littered around his fingers and I felt my body tense as he walked around the table, coming near me. He stopped behind Wooyoung and grabbed my forearm.

“Come with me.” I couldn’t really say no as I was pulled up from my seat, legs a little numb as I hadn’t stood up in a while now. My eyes searched Yunho’s as he dragged me up to my feet and veered me in front of himself, making me walk as he followed close behind, his left hand gripping my waist tightly. My heart picked up a bit as I saw the confused looks on Wooyoung and Sooyoung’s faces, however, Seonghwa looked like this was normal. I didn’t know what to think as I licked my lips and realized Yunho was walking us towards the restrooms. I knew where this was leading, and it was certainly to an argument. And argument that I did not want to have in a pub’s restroom, but I guess I didn’t have much of a choice as Yunho held me firmly, not allowing me to slip away even if I tried to. There were three doors, one for the ladies restroom, one for the men, and a third one which said, employes only. As Yunho pushed me towards it, my eyebrows furrowed and I looked back at him unimpressed and confused.

“What are you doing?” But he was already pushing the door open and shoving me inside. If it weren’t for his hold on my body, I would’ve stumbled. I heard the door slam shut behind me and a click, making me open my mouth to chastise Yunho for whatever this was, but the wind was knocked out of my lungs as I was whirled around and aggressively pushed up against the door.

“I’ve fucking had enough, Y/N.” His jaw was clenched and his nose flared as Yunho glared me down, keeping me pinned against the door as my eyes widened, “I fucking told you I don’t like it when you’re with Wooyoung, and you go ahead and ignore me the whole fucking night while you’re all sweet with him. Fuck this, Y/N. Seriously.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I scoffed, trying to wriggle myself out of his hold, “You never told me you didn’t like him, nor that you didn’t like me talking to him, Yunho. Talking to him. Do you expect me to just fucking ignore every living soul which is a male because I’m with you?!”

The silence which followed was deafening, the tumult of the pub muffled by the door I was pressed against, and Yunho’s face said everything. He wanted me to ignore the existence of every male that wasn’t him. I scoffed and glared at him, yanking his hands off my body. He had loosened his grip on me, making it easy for me to do so.

“I told you that’s not who I am, Yunho, numerous times.” I snapped, pressing a finger against his firm chest, “I told you that you couldn’t expect me to bend to all of your wishes and let go of my own principles for you. I don’t give a single fuck who you are, Yunho, but if you don’t respect me, I won’t respect you either. You can be Jesus, you can be a mobster, the most dangerous man on Earth, and I still won’t allow you to treat me like I’m your personal toy, your little object you can claim whenever your dick stands up, Yunho.”

And Yunho said nothing as his breathing got heavier, because he knew I was right. Because he knew very well where I stood, because he knew and even said he understood, when I refused to get the tattoo he also had on his chest. I didn’t want to be branded, I didn’t want to belong to anyone or anything. I was my own person and if this is where things were headed, I wouldn’t stick around for longer. No matter how much Yunho started meaning to me. And maybe it was the fire in my eyes and the indignation on my face that prompted Yunho to understand that things would soon come to an end between the two of us if he continued on acting like this, but I’ve had enough and as I went to turn around and open the door, Yunho was suddenly on me, holding my face firmly in his hands as he pressed his lips roughly against mine. It took me a little while to respond and it made Yunho whine as his mouth never once stopped moving against mine, coaxing me into a fiery kiss as my hands fisted Yunho’s shirt at his sides, apparently giving him the cue to press himself up against me. I sighed into his mouth as his tongue pushed past my lips and licked into my mouth with urgency, his kisses desperate as his tall body molded perfectly against mine. He knew every tick of mine, every spot which brought pleasure, and every move which he knew made it hard for me to control myself. As he slanted a leg between my things, my fingers tangled into his black locks and I yanked on his hair harshly, making Yunho gasp. He broke off the kiss, but his lips were quickly on my jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses against it as he pressed his thigh more against my clothed core, making me grind down against it needily, little noises leaving my lips as Yunho sucked at a particular spot under my jaw, skin sensitive and igniting a fire within which spread through my whole body.

“I need you.” Yunho mumbled into my skin as he held my chin with his right hand while his lips travelled lower, sucking harshly on the skin of my neck, making me hiss out in pain. As if to prove his words, he pressed his lower half harsher against my body, and I could feel his bulge through his jeans, making me bite back a moan as my hips grinded against his thigh, making me bite my lower lip at the friction against my lower region. Everything was becoming hotter around me, my skin felt on fire and my mind began emptying out as Yunho’s musky cologne consumed my whole being, as his hands groped at any part of my body he could feel, his warmth mingling with mine, and his sinful lips pressing open mouthed kisses against my skin, and tongue licking at it afterwards. His left hand found my hips and guided them, setting a slow rhythm as I grinded against his thigh, a quiet moan leaving my lips at the pooling heat between my legs. The fabric was harsh against me, but it brought the little relief I needed, yet still not enough.

“You look so sexy, when I saw you I wanted to devour you on the spot.” Yunho whispered in my ear as he flexed his thigh, drawing out another quiet moan from me as I gripped his shoulders, arms going around him and pulling him more into myself.

“You’re so fucking hot.” I gasped out against his cheek as I pressed my nose against his skin, kissing his heated cheek, and grinding just a little bit harder against his thigh, yet it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t satiating enough anymore, and my body was on fire, and my walls were clenching around nothing, “Fuck, Yuyu, why did you start this?”

Yunho groaned and suddenly I felt his hands slipping down my legs, gripping the fabric of the dress harshly as he started hiking it up, “Careful, the dress isn’t mine.”

“I don’t give a shit about the dress, Y/N,” He bit back, voice strained as he bunched up the skirt around my hips and yanked at my panties, his hands frantically going to unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper and button of his jeans. I gulped as I looked down at Yunho’s length, hand reaching out and wrapping around his cock, squeezing it as I stroked him slowly, making Yunho throw his head back as he let out airy breaths, sounding close to choked back moans.

“Fuck, I’m going to fuck you hard, angel.” He suddenly opened his eyes and connected out gazes, gripping my wrist and pulling my hand off his length and he pushed his jeans and boxer further down his thighs. He gripped the back of my thighs and made me jump as he lifted me off my feet, my legs wrapping around his hips for stability as I held on to him with my arms as well, our bodies flush against each other. Yunho looked me in the eyes and I licked my lips before teasingly licking Yunho’s, his eyes darkening instantly. I chuckled, but my amusement was short lived as he aligned himself at my entrance and pressed in with one fluid moment, stretching me out and making my eyebrows furrow as I let out a loud gasp, pressing my forehead against Yunho’s as the stretch slightly burned. It had been more than a week since we’d slept with each other, and his size was something my body just never fully got used to. I gulped, but my throat was still dry as Yunho moved, pulling out and then pushing back in as he pinned me up against the door. His pace was slow and dragged out, taunting me and teasing me as he smirked, lips parted as he was lightly panting. My body was burning and my walls were pulsing around his length, as the friction wasn’t good enough anymore, making me whine as my nails dug through Yunho’s shirt and into his skin.

“Yunho, please.” I whispered against his lips as I moved my own hips, trying to get something more out of this, but Yunho just chuckled.

“You think you deserve it after everything you’ve done with Wooyoung tonight?” He nuzzled his nose against mine, and tears gathered in my eyes out of frustration as my hips desperately tried to quicken the pace.

“Fuck, Yunho,” I gritted my teeth at him, one hand untangling from around his shoulders and going to grip his neck, “We were just talking, for fuck’s sake—”

He suddenly pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in, cutting my words off and breath stilling in my throat as I gasped loudly, moan dying out in my throat, “Just talking, you say. Keep on talking right now, then. I bet you have something smart to say.”

And then he pulled out all the way and slammed back in, ramming my body back against the door each time, my toes curling as my legs tightened around his hips, pulling out wanton moans each time he did it, “Oh, Yunho—fuck—please pick up the pace—”

And he smashed his lips against mine as he started moving quickly, hips slamming back against mine as he quickened his pace, my walls clenching down tightly against Yunho’s dick as he moaned into my mouth loudly, hiking my body up higher with each one of his movements, my fingers tangled in his hair as I gripped on for dear life, trying to bite down my moans. Yunho’s pace was ruthless as he plunged into me faster and faster, his big hands gripping my thighs so harshly it surely would leave fingerprints on my skin. I moved down on his length, trying to match his rhythm as the pleasure was building up in my lower stomach, desperately needing more of Yunho as he groaned and buried his head in my neck, nipping on my skin as I pressed a hand against my mouth to try and muffle my moans, head thrown back as my back arched, Yunho finally hitting my sweet spot, and it made me clench around him as his length twitched, his teeth sinking down into my neck.

“You’re mine, angel—” Yunho gasped as I clenched around him again, my hips moving messily as I was chasing my own release, brain beyond fogged up and desperate to finish, “Mine. Tell me you’re mine.”

I whimpered as Yunho’s long finger found my clit and started toying with it, never quite rubbing it the way he was supposed to, frustrating me to no end as tears gathered in my eyes again, yanking on his hair hard.

“Say it, Y/N, you’re mine.” His voice was deep and dark, and I gasped as he started pulling me down aggressively on his dick, rubbing my clit harshly, my body shaking as my climax was finally building up, Yunho’s quiet groans getting louder as his voice was becoming higher pitch, close to his own release as well.

“I’m yours, fuck, Yunho, I’m yours.” I gasped out and quickly kissed him hard, our teeth clashing against each other as Yunho shoved his tongue down my mouth, muffling my keens as my walls squeezed around his length, finally the bundle in my lower abdomen exploding as my body shook, Yunho the only thing on my mind as I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. Yunho’s pace never once slowed down as he guided me through my orgasm, soon coming too as I whined against his lips, bodies flushed together as Yunho’s hips pushed against mine harshly, movements halting as he jerked his hips a few more times, his seed warm inside as we panted into each other’s mouths.

“Open your eyes.” Yunho’s voice was raspy and I licked my dry lips as I pried my eyes open, taken aback by the intense look in his eyes. They were completely dark, not an ounce of warmth in them, the chocolate brown now almost black as he suddenly held my chin tightly, tilting my head back as he glared down at me, “Get it into your fucking head that you’re mine, and no other man is allowed to touch you. You think I didn’t see how many times Wooyoung reached for your wrist? Let it happen one more time, Y/N, and I will fucking kill him. You’re mine.”

And as if to prove a point, he bucked his hips against mine, my walls involuntarily clenching down on his dick, my heart beating erratically. In all these two months of being with him, of spending hours and hours with Yunho, I had never seen him like this. The pure animalistic look in his eyes, the anger on his face, and the threat dripping from his tone…it scared me. It reminded me of who he really was, and it made me question if I wanted this. But could I flee if it came down to it? Would he let me? Or would he threaten to kill me like he just threatened to kill Wooyoung. Would—would Yunho really kill Wooyoung?

“Just let me down.” I managed to whisper, voice shaky as I averted my gaze, lightly pushing at his shoulders.

“Do you understand?” But Yunho didn’t budge, instead jerked my chin to make me look him in the eyes again. I clenched my jaw and gulped down everything I wanted to say.

“I do.” I snapped, eyes glaring back at Yunho as he finally slipped out and placed me on my feet, legs wobbly for a few seconds as I quickly pulled up my panties and pushed the dress down, gulping as I ran my fingers through my hair. Yunho quickly fixed himself, but the look remained on his face. The man standing in front of me wasn’t the man I thought I knew all this time, it was unnerving, “What if I want to end it? Right now. Everything. What if I want you out of my life, forever?”

A sinister smirk appeared on Yunho’s face as he placed his hands out, caging me against the door and himself again, dipping his head down. I gulped, but stood my ground, not backing down. I held his challenging gaze, fought against his attempt at trying to intimidate me, “Then I will brand you. And no other man will touch you ever again, angel. You think you want that?”

“Fuck you, Yunho.” I hissed and slammed my hands against his chest as I pushed him back, away from myself. My mind was a mess as I tried to sort out my thoughts, to calm my nerves and the anger blooming through my whole body, “Are you fucking obsessed with me? Or what’s your fucking deal?!”

I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but I had started shaking, and the way Yunho was treating this whole ordeal wasn’t helping. He looked like we were talking about the groceries we bought, his neutral mask slipping on again, his eyes lighter, but the glint still dangerous in them.

“Wouldn’t you want to know that?” His voice was light, but the chuckle made me shiver as I shook my head, “Let me tell you this. There are no coincidences.”

And without letting me to say anything back, he unlocked the door and pulled me to the side, opening it. He smiled sweetly all of a sudden and draped an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into his side, pressing a swift kiss against the side of my head. I hissed, but didn’t pull away, eyes searching the hallway as we stepped outside, hoping that nobody heard us.

“And now we go back and you better not hide that beautiful neck of yours, angel, maybe Wooyoung will understand finally.” Yunho chuckled like he said the funniest thing on Earth and grinned at me as I looked up at him, dumbly realizing that he’d been biting and sucking at my neck to leave marks for everyone to see. I felt mortified at the thought of everyone from the table seeing, but what I wasn’t ready for was the way Wooyoung was sitting between Mingi and Jongho now, not once meeting my eyes when we returned with Yunho, as I took my previous seat with Yunho on my right. And he went back to talking and acting like nothing happened as Mingi, him, and Jongho continued drinking, Wooyoung sometimes joining in, but not as lively as before. Mingi informed me that Seonghwa and Sooyoung had left while we were busy, Sooyoung having fallen asleep on Seonghwa’s shoulder. It felt like the night I had hoped to enjoy to the fullest was coming to a disastrous end, and I couldn’t help but cringe when I felt Yunho’s big hand wrapping around my thigh and squeezing it, leaving his hand there until we had to leave. Without many words exchanged between Yunho and I on the way back to his apartment, I knew I would be held hostage at his place for a few days, not once letting me out of his sight.

And even with three weeks passing since that incident in the pub, things were still tense between Yunho and I. I was wary of him, rightfully so. I stopped hanging out with him for a longer period of time or too often, letting life carry on as I realized despite always working on my assignments with Yunho, I was hella behind on them. Yunho might have helped me study more, but I was behind on important sketches I had to hand in in one week maximum, and my mind was a mess at the moment as I scrambled around in the library, very possibly late to my shift at the convenience store. Mingi was kind enough to come to the library and help me out, draw a few sketches himself so that I wouldn’t have much leftover for the weekend as I had a shift each day at the store. Despite Yunho and I not talking as often as before, Mingi remained close to me and never once pressured me into talking about what was going on. He never even once mentioned Yunho, usually me being the one to bring him up, even if briefly. Mingi seemed dismissive of the subject and had said that he genuinely grew to like me and considered himself my friend, therefore he was staying neutral as Yunho kept yapping off his ears about me. I felt grateful to Mingi, happy that he wasn’t pushing anything between Yunho and I like Sooyoung was. I couldn’t tell her the full extent of our fight, and thus, she didn’t really get it why I was making such a big deal out of it. And of course, because of this, she almost daily told me how stupid I was, and how much I was fucking up everything when Yunho was literally perfect, and perfect for me as well…but if only she knew the real side of Yunho, the one he never showed at university, she wouldn’t think so highly of him.

In the sparse time that we did meet up, it usually resulted in us simply fucking and Yunho trying to make me understand as to why he kept pressing the hand at matter, and why he was so possessive. I just couldn’t find it in me to hear him out anymore, and that often times lead to us fighting again, only to have furious make-up sex. Things weren’t going well; I couldn’t find the essence of whatever was going on between the two of us anymore. I hated the fact that I got attached to him, and I hated the fact that I continuously gave in to him when I knew this wasn’t good for me anymore. And Yunho just always knew what to say to pull me back in, but what was the worst, was that I could see the sincerity on his face and the pain in his voice whenever he told me that he missed me, and that he wanted things to go back to how they were just weeks ago. And to be honest, I wanted the same thing. I wanted to forget about this whole fucked up issue at hand and just live obliviously and happily with Yunho, but I couldn’t, not when Wooyoung couldn’t even meet my eyes and barely even talked to me anymore when we crossed paths at university. I have no idea what has happened, but it wasn’t hard to guess that Mingi and Jongho must’ve talked to him while Yunho and I were in the restroom at the pub. And quite alarmingly, Wooyoung had a busted lip the following day, raising my suspicions that Yunho took this way too far. But no matter how many times I pressed him about it, he just stayed quiet, he avoided looking at me, and even acted like he couldn’t hear me. It was frustrating, so after a while, I let it go. My mind was a mess and I didn’t know how to figure things out anymore. I needed space and time away from Yunho, but he swore that if I dared disappearing or going no-contact on him, he would turn the world upside down until he found me. The look in his eyes when he said that was more than scary, and I left with my body shaking that night and calling Sooyoung to ask whether I could sleep over at her place or not.

There were times when Yunho scared me, but most of all, the scariest was the way my trust in him had started fading away, not letting me rest for one second. If I couldn’t trust him anymore, what was I doing? Why was I pressuring myself? Maybe because I did believe that Yunho would do anything to get back to me, and the fact that Sooyoung was now dating one of his close friend’s and Mingi also became a good friend of mine felt like a web, like he was a spider and I was cornered from every part, tangled up in his well-calculated web. But there was also a part of me which wished to solve all of this, to just talk it out and put it past us, because my feelings were growing for Yunho the longer we were separated. I didn’t exactly understand why, but whenever we did meet, I felt like I was whole again. Like I was at peace with myself, like I was complete. I have never ever felt like this with anyone before, and it was scary. I didn’t want him to have such power over me, but I have long stopped being able to control such feelings. I just knew that despite him scaring me sometimes, he was just as attached to me as I was to him, and he had proven numerous times that he’d bring even the stars down for me if that’s what I asked for.

I had the evening shift at the convenience store today, and by the time I could finally close it up, the streetlamps had been long turned on, the moon high up in the sky as it was clear of clouds, a few starts visible here and there. The late evening air was nothing but fresh, not chilling for once, the breeze quite invigorating as I had started getting sleepy a while ago. I’ve had a long day at university, and Yunho had been also begging me to sleep over at his apartment as we hadn’t seen each other in three days. I didn’t feel quite ready to spend the night there yet, and therefore I kindly refused him and told him I still had to study, and I didn’t want to bother him as I knew he had to go to the hospital early in the morning for his residency. There was a strange feeling of déjà vu as I turned down the side of the building, nearing the narrow passageway between the two buildings to cut short my journey towards home, the last bus having left, I had no choice but to walk. For some reason I felt uneasy as I gripped my backpack’s straps tightly in my hands and fastened my walk, my heart picking up. I couldn’t see danger, but if my body was reacting like this, I knew it had a reason, and I had to get away from here as fast as possible. But not even ten steps away from the end of the passageway, I was harshly yanked back by my backpack, gasping loudly as I was pushed into the side of the building. For a second I wished it was Yunho as my heart almost exploded by how fast it was beating, and the flashbacks I had to the night when Yunho had to save me from those three creeps freaked me out even more. What if it were them? Coming back to taunt me now that Yunho wasn’t here? But as I tried to run, I was slammed back into the brick wall and held by the collar of my jacket, immobilized against the wall as a tall form loomed over me. I felt joy for a second, hoping it was Yunho, but the man was taller and his scent was unfamiliar. He was dressed fully in black and had his face covered by a black facemask, a black beanie concealing his hair as well. As I stared into his eyes dumbfounded, I came to realize with horror, that this was the same man who had once purchased something from the convenience store, inquiring whether I worked there often.

“What—what do you want?” I managed to stammer out, making the man’s sharp eyes narrow.

“Where’s Jeong Yunho?” How did he know Yunho? Why was he looking for him? As the man’s grip tightened around my collar, I quickly shook my head, body shaking from fear of what would happen to me now. Could this possibly be someone Yunho had problems with? I did hear him once talking on the phone, threatening to kill someone if they didn’t stop trailing him. And then I remembered that Chan guy, and it just made me shake even worse. I could see the satisfaction in the man’s eyes as my eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t know.” I lied, but it also wasn’t a lie. I really didn’t know where he was right now, maybe he was at home. The man just tsked and shook me harshly, making me whimper as he leaned closer. I tried to keep my eyes clear of tears, but even my head was shaking from fear. He was too tall and too strong for me to even try to overpower him.

“Don’t lie to me, bitch!” The man snapped and I jumped as he was suddenly shouting while being all up in my face, “I know you’re Yunho’s whore, that motherfucker! Tell me where he is!”

“I swear I don’t know!” I screamed, eyes filled with tears finally, gripping the mans gloved wrists as he slammed me into the brick wall again, making me whimper, “Please, I really don’t know. Please—”

“Shut up, whore.” The man hissed, eyes narrowing as if he remembered something, “Do you have a tattoo?”

My eyebrows furrowed as a few tears ran down my cheeks and I gulped, about to shake my head no, but I suddenly remembered that Chan guy asking me the same thing. And then my mind was a mess as I racked through memories, trying to remember what Yunho had once said about being branded by a gang.

“Speak up, bitch!” The man screamed again and I quickly nodded, gulping as I tried to look as convincing as I could.

“Yes, yes, I have!” I tried to breathe through my nose, but it was hard as my throat was closing in on me, “An A—I—I have it. Ateez, isn’t it? You know them?”

“Fuck.” The man hissed, and I could see the hatred and venom in his eyes as he yanked me into himself. Yunho had once said that if you were branded by one of the gang members as their partner, nobody else from a rival gang could touch you, unless they wanted to start a war against that gang and every other one the respective gang was in good connections with, “You stupid whore, were you branded by Jeong Yunho?”

“Yes.” I nodded, head shaking as I started sweating, praying to God this man wouldn’t ask me to show him my tattoo. If I had to—I could only fear what would happen to me as I had lied through my teeth.

“Fuck!” The man exclaimed again and suddenly let go of me, but not before raising his fisted hand and making me scream as it came towards my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself for the upcoming pain, but it never came. I was on the verge of sobbing as I opened my eyes, and I was met with the view of the man cackling and looking satisfied as my legs gave out and I slid down onto the dirty ground lifelessly, watching as he looked at his hand proudly.

“Tell Jeong Yunho, sweetheart, that what I did today was a cordial warning.” He crouched down and raised my head by my chin, almost cooing at me as I was now crying, “And that next time he’d find you dead in a ditch if he doesn’t hand over all the money he’d made on selling our stuff, sweetheart, alright?”

I sniffed as I nodded, averting my eyes as the man suddenly leaned closer, masked face pressing against my ear as his voice dropped a few octaves, “I know you weren’t branded, sweetheart, Yunho is quite bad at keeping his mouth shut about you. Isn’t that dumb? Figures he’d be smarter, sweetheart, especially considering how secretive he is about everything else. Lovely chit chat we had, enjoy the rest of your evening now!”

My whole body shook with sobs as the man walked away with a skip in his steps, laughing at my agony as I pulled my knees up into my chest, burying my head into my legs as I sobbed harder, realizing that I could’ve died right here at the hands of this man. I couldn’t think straight as I shakily took my phone out of my pocket and blindly dialed the number I knew by heart now, trying to calm my sobs, but it wasn’t working. It only rung two times before he picked up.

“Angel—”

“Yuyu—” I gasped out, sobbing harder at the hear of his voice, “Please, please, come get me, Yuyu—”

“Y/N?!” I have never heard this much emotion in Yunho’s voice before as he sounded panicked, “Where are you? What happened?!”

“The passageway on the way home.” I managed to say in one breath before hanging up and continuing to cry curled up on myself and praying that Yunho would make it here as fast as he could. It wasn’t very far from his apartment, but he’d make fifteen minutes on feet, and I felt like fifteen more minutes spent alone would kill me. I couldn’t even think about that as another wave of sobs hit my body, lungs aching as I was heaving for air.

My loud wails died down at some point as I sat numbly on the cold and dirty ground, staring off into space as I clung to my knees, hugging myself to give as much self-comfort as I could. My body didn’t stop shivering and I suddenly heard the slam of a door and feet hitting the pavement quickly, making my body tense as I realized someone was approaching me again, and quite quickly. I flinched when I felt big, warm, hands around my biceps and I shook my head, slightly fighting against the person trying to hold me, until I heard their voice, “Y/N, it’s me. Yunho, Yuyu. What happened, oh my god, are you alright?”

And I looked ahead, eyes falling on the familiar soft face of Yunho’s, chocolate brown eyes filled to the brim with worry, and lips downturned as he looked like he was fighting his own tears. It made my own eyes fill up with tears again as I suddenly sprung forward, clinging to Yunho as he fell back without complaining, and allowed me to crawl into his lap as I held tightly onto him, burying my head in his pink hoodie, his cologne familiar and bringing the comfort I much needed. I started crying again, a lot quieter this time, as my body shook and Yunho lightly swayed us, holding me tightly against himself as he patted the back of my head with one hand. His other palm was pressed flatly against my back, making me wonder when had my backpack slipped off.

“I’m here now, it’s okay.” Yunho whispered into my ear as he pressed a chaste kiss against my temple, “You’re safe with me, angel, you’re safe. It’s alright, don’t be scared anymore.”

I sniffed as my tears somehow stopped falling, eyes dry and burning as I buried my nose into Yunho’s neck, tightening my arms around his neck as his body molded against mine, allowing me to disappear into him. Yunho kept pressing kisses against my temple, muttering reassuring words as he not once stopped petting my head. It felt like my mind and body finally calmed down, the aggressive shaking turned into a tremor and I tried to speak, but my throat was hoarse. I licked my lips and sniffed loudly, clearing my throat as I clutched at Yunho’s nape, closing my eyes as I pressed them against the warm skin of his smooth neck.

“Yunho, they—” My throat closed in one me and I had to pause as my lips trembled again, “He said he’d kill me next time.”

My voice was barely above a whisper and my body tensed as it felt Yunho tensing against me, his grip suddenly tightening against me. For once it didn’t feel restrictive, it felt safe, “He said, if—if you don’t hand over the money you made selling their stuff, I’ll—they’ll kill me.”

Yunho’s loud cursing took me off guard and the second he felt me tensing, he quickly quieted down and pressed again kisses against my neck, switching to mutter reassuring things once again, “They won’t ever again touch you, Y/N, I swear on what’s dearest to me. I won’t let them. Never. Ever.”

“Yunho, I—” I sniffed and pried myself slowly back so that I could look in his eyes, “I lied to them about the tattoo.”

I pressed a hand against his chest, where his own branded A tattoo was, and Yunho bit his lower lip, “But they knew I didn’t have it, Yunho.”

His eyebrows furrowed even more as his face was full of confusion, hand coming to cup my cheek as his other hand slipped to my waist, “How did they know…”

“They said you talk a lot about me.” My voice was quiet as Yunho and I looked into each other’s eyes, making him gulp as he looked shameful.

“Fuck, this is all my fault.” He let out a breath and my heart clenched seeing him like this, “Fuck, I’m so fucking stupid. There’s a mole in our gang.”

I just looked at Yunho as his soft features switched into one of pure fury, warm eyes on fire as he looked down to the side. My chest felt heavy as I was finally able to release a long sigh, chewing on my lower lip. If I was involved with Yunho, would I ever be safe? Was there really a guaranteed way to protect myself if he wasn’t around? Was there a way to prevent another situation like this one from happening?

“If I—if I get the tattoo,” My voice was quiet as Yunho slowly looked back at me, a newfound glint appearing in his eyes, “will they never again touch me? Will I be safe?”

“You’re safest with me.” The answer was instant, but then he nodded, “But yes, the tattoo is the closest thing you can get to keeping yourself as safe as if you were with me, angel.”

I gulped, feeling crestfallen at what I was about to ask, “Do you think I could get it tonight?”

I had no idea what the time was, but it certainly would be nearing midnight soon. Yunho’s face was rendered with surprise, until very slowly, a smirk appeared on his lips, cupping my cheeks as he pulled our faces inches away from each other, “Yeah, I know a place.”

I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes as I nodded, “Okay, let’s go there.”

“Fuck,” A rasped breath left Yunho’s lips, “I love you. Y/N, I’m fucking in love with you.”

And before my eyes could fly open in shock, Yunho’s lips were pressing against mine softly, but urgently, making my whole-body light up with fire. I kissed him back with a newfound passion as my eyebrows furrowed and my lips moved against his firmly, trying to convey everything I felt into the kiss. I never thought I’d hear those words leave Yunho’s lips, certainly not directed at me, and it shook my whole being. The kiss didn’t last for long, but when Yunho pulled back, he pressed three more kisses against my lips, peppering my face with even more, making me melt into him.

“God, I’m so in love with you it’s painful, Y/N.” He whispered against my skin and my heart clenched at his confession, making me bite my lower lip as I opened my eyes. Yunho was already watching me and it surprised me seeing adoration written all over his face, in his eyes, on his lips as he pressed a small kiss against my nose, “Let’s go, Wooyoung will probably be elated to talk to you again.”

“Wooyoung?” How was he suddenly important?

“Yeah, he does all the branding on our gang members—” I didn’t like the amused look on Yunho’s face as he slowly peeled me off himself as I came to stand shakily, “Did you think I was the only member of Ateez?”

“No, I—” I shrugged, head thumping by now, “I don’t know, I never thought about it.”

“Yeah, angel,” Yunho chuckled as he took my hand and lead me towards his black Maserati, “how do you think I met Jongho and Seonghwa?”

I gulped, something coiling in my gut. What had I gotten myself into? “And Mingi?”

“We’re best friends since primary school, but yeah, he’s also part of Ateez.” And suddenly the picture-perfect image I had of Mingi in my head came crashing down too, just like the unease as I thought about Wooyoung and his bubbly personality, wondering just how many more people around me were involved with gang activity.

Yunho opened the door for me and helped me inside as my body still had slight tremors, the shock not having worn off entirely, and suddenly he raised my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss against my knuckles, “I love you.”

And I would say it back at my own pace, and when I truly felt that I loved him. There were too many things he was still hiding from me. Issues we still had to solve. Love, was something I was scared to admit to feeling just yet towards Jeong Yunho. He was everlasting and encompassing, ravishing your whole being, keeping you locked in. And if he really loved me, I knew he would wait for me, I knew he would want me to be sure of it when saying it back. I didn’t know what the future had in store, but if Yunho swore to keep me safe, I blindly put my trust in him once again, praying to stay oblivious to the dark world he was meddling in. Perhaps a few more flower bouquets, and I might just say it back.

But deep down, I already knew I was in love with the man sitting next to me in the car, with Jeong Yunho.

⟨Masterlist⟩

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spadesolace · 1 year ago

Text

drag me down: stockholm syndrome

synopsis: pham hanni isn't one to admit her feelings nor is she aware of her own feelings. but why does her heart aches watching you laugh with your friends or being physically affectionate with your friends?

words: 2.4k

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It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize that going out in the middle of the night only in her pajamas would get her sick. A cold didn’t kill anybody but she doesn’t want to risk getting others sick. Along with a fever that is quite high, it would be best to miss one day of school, despite hating it herself.

Hanni did not know that. After the short fight at Y/N’s place, she used her time to reflect and think things through. Why did she want to kiss her, what was in that atmosphere that in two consecutive nights led to her wanting some sort of affection from her rival? Seeing the empty chair next to her, no annoying Park Y/N next to her to annoy her. Shouldn’t it be bliss to have a bit of peace and quiet for once?

“She’s not going to class if that’s what you’re waiting for.” Chaewon showed her text with Y/N to Hanni, her personality being different in SNS. Who would have thought that seeing that had spark some flames in Hanni’s heart.

chaechae: why aren’t you in class?

ynn: im sick, body temp is 38 C with a bit of sniffles

chaechae: hehe sniffles, anyw gws!!! i’ll tell the girls

ynn: ily and thank u, chae

How is it that simple text makes Hanni’s blood boil to the point of possibly wanting to cause harm? This can’t be jealousy. It can’t be.

Within the entire day, where Y/N would sit, some people dared to sit next to Hanni. Most of which tried to copy her work, some were to converse with her, and then there was Jungwon who tried his best to keep the girl company. Neither of those made Hanni smile, laugh, it made her even more annoyed with everyone and everything. Jungwon still stayed after Hanni had told him off politely that he shouldn’t be transferring seats. Only to be rebutted.

“There’s no more seating arrangements, Hanni. Y/N isn’t here to take her seat so its free.” Hanni doesn’t have the energy to fight the guy when Chaewon was literally on a quick video call with Y/N.

“YAH! You told me to call you when it was time for you to take your meds.” She could only faintly see the sickly figure of Y/N who was laying on her bed with her laptop next to her. Would it be bad wanting to steal the phone for her to talk to Y/N?

Chaewon had turned around and placed her phone in front of Hanni, a smile on her face as she removed her earphones. The sickly figure on the screen looked at her with a small smile, her teasing smile that seemed so weak yet full of passion.

“I hope you’re not missing me much, Pham.” She may have looked annoyed but there was a hint of blush on her cheek.

“As if, Park.”

“Mhmm… Jungwon, get out of my seat.” Even if the voice was nasally, Hanni could easily distinguish Y/N’s voice whether it was joking or pissed. Jungwon would still be scared of Y/N either way, hurriedly saying goodbye and moving back to his place.

“Han.”

“Y/N.”

“Give the phone back to Chae.” Even if that was the end of that conversation, Hanni had a small smile on her face as Chaewon scolded Y/N. A bit of pain was still there but at least Hanni had managed to talk to you for a short while.

It didn’t slip past Minji to notice the change in demeanour of her best friend. One that rarely gets annoyed at people, to the point she would rather have her head chopped off if anyone would try to talk to her again. The small smile on her face was as clear as daylight, and watching the entire interaction just made Minji think about what had happened when the pair went out.

Hanni’s thoughts were interrupted by her phone, a message from Y/N. It was already rare to message each other that was not academics related, and upon seeing the message. Hanni’s thoughts had never been such a mess.

park y/n: why is he on my seat?

pham hanni: idk, he sat there bc you weren’t here

park y/n: ok.

Maybe it was the small interaction after half a day without Y/N annoying her or being in the same vicinity as her. Minji noticed the way Hanni had become calmer, no longer annoyed or had a hint of distaste. There’s something Park Y/N has that belongs to Hanni and it makes the gears in Minji’s head turn. Chaewon isn’t aware of anything happening behind her, let alone the burning gaze Hanni is sending her way.

“Oh shit.”

Hanni is oblivious to things, and Minji can easily work with it. A table filled with student council work with nothing but stress for the grad ball, Minji saw it as the perfect opportunity to simply ask questions. Between the two, Minji knows Hanni’s emotions better than anyone else; she’s the one that made Hanni realize her feelings for Jay was nothing but a crush, but with Jungwon - that was a mystery to Minji. She questioned why Hanni said yes to him courting her, or how she rarely spends time and effort with him.

Easing up to the conversation from grad ball preparations to asking Hanni who she’ll go with only to be answered that left Minji confused.

“Not Jungwon, that’s for sure.”

“What? He hasn’t asked you yet?” Hanni shook her head as she cleared the paperwork for the grad ball, finalising the sponsorship with Park Food Corporations.

“Y/N sorta asked me.” Confusion, concern, every other emotion as Minji processes every word that left Hanni’s mouth. How did Y/N even ask her out, or how Hanni agreed to it?

“So… during your date with Y/N?”

“Not a date.”

Minji could only look at Hanni with pure confusion. Being highly aware that both Hanni and Y/N were left alone the other day – according to Ms. Park Jihyo herself, they were even holding hands. Which makes Minji question if they’re dating behind everyone’s back or something else is going on.

Hanni’s mind has been a mess after the dinner at the Park estate. How their parents seem to like the pair together, even being asked to go to the graduation ball with Y/N. What is there to Y/N that makes her blood boil but at the same time miss her and get so irritated with everything else that does not relate to her. Even Jungwon can’t ease her mind, let alone she now sees him as some sort of hindrance to her abilities and goals in the future.

“Earth to Phampham? Helloooo?” Hanni shook her head, looking at the papers in front of her then to Minji who looked at her concerned. Park Food Corporations in her handwriting with the signature of their representative of the company below. All of her thoughts – from when she wakes up to laying in bed staring in the ceiling – all she could think of is Park Y/N.

“You good? You’ve been out of it for a while.” Minji checks her temperature, nothing out of the ordinary, just Hanni spacing out more than usual.

“I’m good, just tired.”

“Whatever you say, phampham. Just know that I’m here if you wanna talk.”

Hanni nodded, watching Minji pack up and leave her alone in the room. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with the scene of Y/N kissing her on repeat. Alone with the thought of Park Y/N.

Hanni slowly became more irritated with the people around her, especially after Y/N had come back and asked Minji if she could sit next to Chaewon. It wasn’t that bad at first, maybe the two had a lot to catch up on while she was gone but she could have asked Hanni regarding assignments and extracurriculars missed and not her friend. Minji taking notice of how Hanni easily snaps and loses focus as she watches Y/N across from her wearing a mask and slowly showing more signs of energy compared to the day she had come back. It was evident that Hanni was being avoided as if she carried the plague once Y/N had come back.

“That’s the third pencil you broke this week – are you sure you’re fine?” Hanni was not ok, whatever she’s feeling or whatever her thoughts of planning a murder and getting away with it. She is definitely not ok.

Even at lunch or when the pair lock the classroom for break, not a single conversation or an utterance of spite or hatred was thrown at Hanni. Silence. Like she doesn’t exist and the goal was to get away from her as soon as possible and it pains her to see Y/N smile at someone else other than her. There’s still the rival aspect but after what had happened, after the kiss, shouldn’t it be addressed that there is more to it than meets the eye.

In the table quite far from them sat Y/N’s circle, seeing the girl laughing at the things being thrown around the table, Hanni wishes she could be the reason for that stupid smile on your face. Watching Chaewon lean on her shoulder and watching the slight public display of affection, her right eye started twitching. Planning a murder in her mind as she watches how affectionate the pair is, she has never noticed how affectionate the girl is not until she realized how much space she occupies in Hanni’s mind (and possibly her heart).

“Do you think if I asked for a bottle of chloroform from our lab technician, I’d be a suspect in a possible murder case?” It was out of the blue, her entire friend group looked at her as if she’s insane, following her line of sight, it made sense that it would be directed at Y/N.

“Let your rival live, I’m just here for the plot of it.” Haerin watches how the table at the back seems to have its life back within the two days that Y/N was gone. It was a given fact that she was the sunshine along with Eunchae within the group and missing that meant silence and no one to tease Hanni to.

“Huh? Since when did Chaewon and Y/N become a couple?” Minji and Hanni looked at Danielle as if she had stated the most absurd thing aside from the possible murder case that Pham Hanni is planning in the back of her mind.

“They’re not!” Danielle, Haerin, and Hyein looked at the pair in shock - aside from Minji and her obvious crush on the feisty girl that she sits next to. It was the fact that Hanni’s reaction regarding the possible relationship was what made everyone lose it. Even she was shocked by what she had said.

“Oh my god – you like Pa-” Hanni covered Hyein’s mouth before she could finish her sentence. Minji assumed that was the case after the whole call incident and the graduation ball date. With the reaction like that, surely Hanni likes Y/N.

“That… explains… a lot.” The group looked at the eldest as the initial shock of the revelation finally sinks in to everyone. Pushing Jungwon away, getting snappy, and it’s all because of a girl.

“Shut it, Minji. That does not explain anything at all.”

“I thought you were straight.”

The group laughed at Haerin’s comment, only for Hanni to smack the cat-like girl.

She doesn’t like Y/N, she’s merely intrigued by the girl that used to sit next to her and always consumes coffee as if her life depends on it. The girl that wears rings all the time and fidgets with it whenever she’s thinking or nervous - or how her uniform is always a mess and it’s her job to fix it while she gets a scolding from her. The girl that lowkey has anime merchandise keychains on her bag and no one would immediately get it unless they watch it. The very same girl that is the daughter to a rich family that she could possibly be the next owner of.

No, she doesn’t like Park Y/N. I’m in denial.

Hanni wonders how she ended up here, sitting in a cafe far from the counter holding a cup of hot chocolate while acting as if she’s reading a book but in reality she is just observing her rival preparing coffee.

Even in the cafe, she would go lengths to avoid Hanni such as making Sakura take her order. She didn’t expect for Hanni to be at the cafe, let alone she never knew that Hanni goes out and not stay in her room to study all day – it’s weirder to see Hanni out of nowhere than seeing a teacher during the weekend during normal day to day things.

“I’m guessing that’s Hanni.” Sakura leans on the counter as she watches the supposed owner of the cafe clean up. Seeing her ears slowly turn a shade of red simply from the mention of the girl’s name and tensing simply by looking at the one of the few customers they have during early in the morning.

“Can’t believe Chae already spilled you the details.”

“In exchange, she did admit to liking Minji. I think that’s a win-win scenario.”

Y/N chuckled at Sakura’s comment, it was deemed fair that Chaewon would know as to why there was a need to switch seats with Minji. In exchange, both of them admitted to liking their seatmates and partners for the project. The difference is that Chaewon isn’t fighting for the attention of her crush against multiple other people; Pham Hanni is still in a somewhat relationship with Jungwon.

Hanni doesn’t know why watching Y/N laughing and being playful with her coworker makes her heart hurt. She has Jungwon but why does her heart scream for the girl that has been ignoring her for almost a week. How she wishes that she could run into her arms and kiss her, but now she’s watching her leaning towards her coworker with ash gray hair that she believes is the sweetest barista but in her eyes it's someone who wants Park Y/N.

“You’re really playing with fire, Y/NN.”

“Unnie, let’s just see if she’ll do something with her feelings,”

Park Y/N, look at what you’ve done to me. Is this what they call jealousy? If it is, Pham Hanni hates it.

She hates that she’s falling for Park Y/N.

#pham hanni #hanni x reader #hanni imagines #hanni #newjeans hanni #nwjns #hanni pham #newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans #drag me down #dmd!yn

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gallawitchxx · 9 months ago

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hi beeee!! i hope you're doing okay 💖💖💖

ooohohohoho okay for the kiss thingy: god knows why cuz it sounds potentially very painful but i feel so compelled to request 28 🙏

sweet deanna! i'm hanging in, thanks love! 💖 so you & @lingy910y both requested #28 & i want to fill both of your prompts. but because you were (rightfully) afraid of pain, i gave you one that's a bit strange, but has a promisingly happy ending? you can be the judge! xx

- - - - -

send me a number & i'll write you a smoocheroo 😚

- - - - -

#28: ...as a lie ps. this is inspired by this post about dealer!mickey & insomniac!ian, who have now rotted my brain.

Ian hasn’t slept in days.

It’s happened before—endless energy is one of his tried-and-true symptoms of mania—but this isn’t that. He’s taking his meds, his skin isn’t crawling and his mind is fairly quiet. Quiet enough to frustrate him as he tosses and turns and wonders what the fuck’s going on.

His schedule has been all over the place lately; his normal routine lost to the endless cycles of employment and Gallagher family responsibilities. He’d been hoping to add school to the mix this semester so that he could have other, less hectic options than a rig-riding EMT, but he’d pushed it off. A pity, now that all-nighters are apparently his thing.

Night two, he googles a few things, which is a huge mistake. Who can fall asleep after reading about how even just twenty-four hours without sleep can begin to derail your bodily systems? Sleep deprivation can cause or worsen conditions like Type 2 diabetes, High blood pressure, Stroke, Heart attack—his pulse leaps as his phone clatters to the ground.

Night three, he takes to the streets, running around the Southside until his lungs burn and his knees wobble. As he passes the clinic that gave his seventeen-year-old self a lifetime prescription for antipsychotics, he knows that if this lasts much longer, he should call his doctor. Tell them his nighttime meds aren’t putting him to sleep anymore. Nip this insomnia thing in the bud before it can overthrow the delicate balance he’s worked so hard to maintain.

Night four, desperate and a bit delusion, he pulls up a number he hasn’t used in years, saved under a contact labeled, DO NOT TEXT.

He breaks his own rule: Hey. Still making house calls?

The response is almost immediate: the fuck u care for?

Ian rolls his bloodshot eyes, typing: It’s an emergency.

Three little dots herald a response that makes him laugh: a weed emergency?

He stays strong: Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.

The next text makes his chest clench: u ok?

He decides to keep it vague—I can’t sleep, but it’s not what you think.—and hopes he doesn’t have to explain further and is relieved to read: u want ur usual?

Another clench: Indica

Two texts arrive in rapid succession: what else do u want? can i give u head while u smoke or no?

There it is: the reason Ian doesn’t use this number anymore.

Maybe in another life it would be a blessing to have a weed dealer to lovers arc with your childhood crush, but in this one, it was a curse. A curse that lasted almost a whole year, bringing with it an endless bouquet of blissful fucks and free weed, and a million moments of tenderness Ian knew nobody else was getting out of the guy. A curse that eventually came to collect payment in the form of bloodied knuckles, broken hearts and ego wounds. A curse that still clings to Ian’s psyche, filling his dreams with gentle, tattooed fingers and bright blue eyes and a sweet and savory scent that can only be described as Mickey.

Mickey, now DO NOT TEXT.

On second thought, maybe he should never sleep again.

The knock at the door makes him hard—a Pavlovian response that irks him more than the three sleepless nights he’s suffered so far. Three raps, one right after the other. The last one no more than a brush of his hand.

Ian adjusts himself and answers the door.

Fuck, one look at that smug asshole and he’s immediately right back in it. Lust and like and maybe even a little bit of reckless fucking love fill his body, rising to the surface like sweet cream. A layer of fat on the roof of one’s mouth; a treat to lick later, a reminder that they didn’t end things because they weren’t insanely hot for one another and potentially soulmates. They were just idiots. Stubborn, petty dicks.

Oh Pride, the great slayer of men.

Jesus, he needs to sleep.

“First one’s on the house,” Mickey says as he crosses the threshold, a joint held tightly between C and K.

Hours slip by. They laugh, they smoke. It feels like old times. Ian’s body is loose in a way it hasn’t been in years. It feels good. Like maybe-he-could-sleep-tonight good. And as he melts further into the couch, he starts to get a little horny too. Because Mickey’s yapping on and on about some asshole that frequents the bar he works at, and Ian’s listening, he swears he’s listening, but he’s also staring at Mickey’s mouth like he wants to take Mickey up on that text message and shut him the fuck up with his dick.

Like he wants to taste the stale smoke of his tongue.

Wants him to stay the night.

Forever, maybe.

Mickey finishes his story. His eyes go soft and he drums his fingers against his knee. “Should get outta your hair, Gallagher,” he says. “Letcha sleep.”

That’s the last thing Ian wants.

“Not tired,” he fibs.

Mickey cocks an eyebrow. “You’re not? ’S been days, man. This shit’s gotta be hittin’ ya by now.”

It’s true. It has been days and this shit is hitting him. Or maybe he’s having a sleep-deprivation-induced stroke. He just knows Mickey can’t go.

“Can’t go to sleep without a goodnight kiss.”

Mickey’s already leaning in when he asks, “Then you promise you’ll hit the hay?”

Ian nods as Mickey presses a kiss to his lying lips.

#welp - throws whatever this is at you #alskfjalkj #i realized that both of my kisses are at the very end of the ficlet & aren't actually described #lolol #maybe my next attempt should be 1K words of just describing the kiss #no actual context needed #just tongues #anyway THANKS DEANNA I LOVE YOU DEANNA #shameless #shameless fanfiction #prompt fill #ian x mickey

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sleepyfan-blog · 4 months ago

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Five + One

Author’s Note: This is set before Cedric was brought to Ancient Terra! I hope that you enjoy this. Masterlist of BT shenanigans here. Thanks to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for allowing me to borrow her OC Jerahmiel!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: blood, violence, murder, medical terminology, medical practices, please ask me to tag something if I missed it/something bothers you

Summary: Five times Cedric was able to save injured Brothers and one time he didn’t.

Ansen limped into the med-tent that Cedric as working in and leaning heavily on Malachai, who had helped him get back to the temporary encampment where injured marines and other Imperial Forces could be tended to. The system they were fighting in was embroiled in a huge border war between The IMperium and the duplicitous forces of a new but irritatingly persistent xeno race.

Cedric looks him over, a small frown appearing on his face as he instructed the pair “Please sit on the exam table, Ansen. Are you injured as well, Mal?”

Malachai shook his head “Not really/ I brought Ansen over due to his fucked up leg. My right hand is damaged, but nothing that an hour or so of letting it heal on it’s own won’t fix. My sqord broke and I need to get a new weapon while this one is being reforged.”

“Alright then. Be sure to stop by the food tent before you leave.” Cedric responded, already starting to look Ansen over.

“Heard. See you both later.” Malachai answered with a cheerful wave as he headed off.

“How’d you get injured? Whatever injured your leg it doesn’t seemed to have cut through your armor at all, somehow. Perhaps some kind of phasing technology? How much feeling do you have in this leg?” Cedric asked as he swiftly removed the other’s leg armor and began to clean, suture and bandage his wounds “These stitches are absorbable, so you need not come back to have them removed. If you notice signs of infection or if one or more of your wounds opens up again, please return for treatment.”

“.. One of the xenos cowards managed to sneak up behind me in the bushes while I was taking a piss. Malachai decapitated the motherless bastard while I put my armor back on. It was only after that I realized the blue fuck had managed to stab me several times before it’d been killed.” Ansen huffed. His helmet was on, but Cedric knew the other was blushing.

“That is some shit luck, brother. Keep your weight off of that leg for an hour or so and you’ll be combat ready again… So long as you don’t get stabbed while pissing.” Cedric consoled his brother, just barely able to keep a straight face. He was not going to laugh. Stealthy, cowardly xenos attacks could happen to anyone. “Any other injuries?”

“Other than my pride and reputation? No, not really.” Ansen grumbled.

Cedric patted his fellow Primaris on the shoulder. “Go forth and slay the alien scum in an hour, brother dearest. You’ll be able to reclaim lost honor that way.”

“... Thanks Cedric.” Ansen sighed as he got up and hobbled out of the med tent.

It did not take long before another Brother was brought to Cedric in need of patching up.

Lieutenant Aldenbrech was rushed onto the surgical table by his squadmates. Cedric immediately started an IV drop as the amount of blood gushing out of the nasty wound along the firstborn’s abdomen and the ashen tint to his skin spoke of a concerning amount of blood loss, even for an Astartes. The second thing he did was swiftly clean the wound and stitch up the major artery that had been pierced, his hands stone-steady.

Cedric then had to suction the blood that had pooled in the lieutenant’s abdominal cavity, battling the other’s own high healing factor to do so thoroughly enough to ensure that no blood remained where it shouldn’t be to cause trouble later.

“Are you certain that you only want mild local anesthetics? This is going to take some time and it won’t be pleasant in the least, sir.” Cedric asked, a medium-high dose of morpha held in one hand, as he continued to tend to the other’s injuries.

“I want to get back into the fight as soon as possible. A large dose of a heavy anesthetic like that will take me out of the fight for longer than I’m willing to wait and recuperate. I must get back onto the battlefield as soon as possible.” Lieutenant Aldenbrech grumbled, shifting just a little on the surgical table.

“Sir you will need to take the next twenty four hours to recover… Ideally, you should take forty-eight hours to recover, but I am well aware of the fact that the xenos scum are showing no signs of stopping the invasion of this world.” Cedric warned the other marine.

“Are my guts back in place?” The lieutenant demanded a heavy scowl on his face as he looked up at Cedric.

“Yes, the wound wasn’t wide enough to spill organs, nor intestines sir. Bit-” Cedric answered, sighing internally at how stubborn the older marine was being.

Aldenbrech interrupted him “Then pull the IV needle out of my arm. I need to be out there now!” He shifted, as if to get off of the table. He sat up quickly and nearly fell back against the table, his skin going an ashen color “I told you none of the heavy medications!”

“And I obeyed your orders, sir. But you need to wait until the IV has finished at least. You’ve lost several listers of blood on your way to treatment and all that blood needs replacing, or you won’t have the strength to stand, much less fight.” Cedric pointed out, suppressing the annoyed sigh that threatened to escape him.

“You don’t understand! My apprentice Dylies… He was… He was cut down by one of the xenos commanders. He took a blow meant for me, and I must avenge him!” The lieutenant hisses, eyes flashing with determination and desperation.

“I can increase how much it infuses into you at one time by a certain amount, but you must wait. You can’t avenge Dylies if you’re about to go into the Emperor’s Embrace yourself, sir. Dylies would want you to take care of yourself before avenging him” Cedric quietly reminded the firstborn marine. He was pushing aside his own grief at the loss of a Primaris Brother. It was likely that more would fall before the xenos threat were driven from this system. His job was to tend to the living.

Lieutenant Aldenbrecht huffed but nodded, still disgruntled but he said “... YOu have a point. How long must I wait?”

“Three hours sir. However the window of time where you need to be monitored by an Apothecary for possible allergic or other negative reactions has passed. SO long as you keep the IV pole with you and allow the infusion to continue as it is currently set, you may walk about the base camp and tend to light duties as you feel capable of doing them, sir.” Cedric responded, aware that the officer was likely to be needed in the ongoing tactical planning and execution meetings.

“Good. I’ll come back if I start feeling worse, or more likely, when it’s done infusing.” the lieutenant rumbled, nodding as he heaved himself up onto his feet and slowly shuffled out of the tent, followed by his squadmates.

Olivar carried Lestras into Cedric’s medical tent, skidding to a halt from the dead sprint that he had galloped into the space with. Lestras had been carried in on Olivar’s back, and their breathing was fast and shallow.

Some of their wounds were immediately apparent to the young Apothecary as he grabbed the wound cleanser and burn ointment “What happened?” cedric asked as his rock-steady hands swiftly took off the rest of Lestras’ ruined chest plate and greaves before he started to clean the other’s extensive and bubbling burn and laceration wounds.

“Xenos bastards implanted bombs in some of the mortal civilians they were tormenting and that our squad had been tasked with rescuing.” Olivar answered bluntly, a slight shudder running through the other Primaris Marine “Lestras spotted the surgical markings on the affected civilians and separated them from the rest of the group… He’d managed to get most of them away from the untainted civilians when the bombs were triggered.”

Lestras looked up at Cedric from where they lay on the table, eyes glassy with shock and pain “Oww…” He mumbles “Everything hurts.”

Cedric’s eyes softened a little as he injected them with a moderate dose of morpha. They were going to need it, as cleaning burn wounds felt truly awful for the patient in question. “Tell me when the pain killer kicks in. You will be able to tell with how much I gave you.”

Lestras let out an agonized laugh through cracked and bleeding lips “That bad, Cedric? We’ve been taught that pain and suffering is good for the body and soul.”

“But excess of anything attracts the attention of the foul despoilers. Burn wound treatment is going to be miserable, even with morpha helping you with the pain. There’s no need to go looking for more Les.” Cedric reminded them kindly.

Lestras nodded, closing their eyes for a couple of moments. Their body relaxed and a soft sigh left them “Ohh… You gave me some of the really good stuff… Big ouch impending then?”

“Yes. There is a lot of wound debridement in your immediate future.” Cedric warned his brother. WIth how fast Primaris Marines healed, for Lestras’ health and safety, ,the first few layers of burned flesh needed to be debrided off in order to encourage even, healthy growth of the other’s injured tissues. Cedric looked over to Olivar “Unless you are injured as well, I would suggest that you head out, Olivar. This is going to be a very unpleasant process.”

Olivar nodded “I’m going to get something to eat, then find an outgoing squad to keep up the fight. May the god emperor guide and protect you both,”

“Oww…” Lestras sighed as he internally braced himself for the agony that he wos about to endure.

“Tell me when the morpha starts to wear off. This process is going to take hours.” Cedric warned his sibling.

“Okay Cedric, I promise. Give me a few moments to get into a meditative state and I’ll be ready for this trial.” Lestras murmured.

Cedric nodded, watching his sibling and started once they had achieved that internal state.

Brother Felixald was brought into Cedric’s medical tent on a stretcher, carried there by his squadmates. All five of the firstborn marines were in varying states of injury, but Felixald was unconscious and barely breathing.

One of his legs was gone from the knee down with a makeshift tourniquet in place to keep him from bleeding out. Cedric immediately began assessing the five older marines, suggesting ”You two should seek immediate help. THose puncture wounds look like they need immediate assistance… I think you’ve been poisoned, from the way those wounds look and smell.” Cedric was already getting the cauterization tool ready as he assessed the bloody and raw leg stump, in case he needed to cut off more to ensure that the older marine would heal properly.

The two firstborns he suggested to leave did so immediately. The other two marines sat down heavily on the far side of the tent. One of them asked “Do you want us to recount how we got the injuries, or would you rather we stayed quiet while you take care of Feli, and get report when it’s our turn?” Brother Nulik asked.

“His most obvious injury shouldn’t take me long. Sir, I am going to administer a dose of morpha, as cauterization hurts like hell. Injecting now.” Cedric answered, speaking mostly to his barely conscious patient.

“Have… Ontel. Need to share.” Brother Felixald managed out, his grey-brown eyes flittering open as he stared up desperately into Cedric’s face “No morpha! Need a clear… Fuck! I do feel better. The xenos! They.. They are camouflaging themselves. It’s how I got this way.”

“The intel will be shared immediately. What are they pretending to be?” Cedric soothed his patient as he carefully cleaned and sanitized the older marine’s recently exploded or pehrpss cut off leg stump before he applied the cauterization tool. The sizzle of heat against wet and teh unpleasant smell of burning flesh was an eye-watering stench that Cedric had long become used to. He makes a quick note in the other’s file flagging him for an immediate prosthetic fitting.

“Some of them look like Astartes from an unknown chapter… Others took the colors of the ULtramarines. Their duplicity was revealed when the fuckers tried to kill us. God-Emperor damn them!” Brother Felixald growled, his exhaustion and the morpha causing him to slur his words together a little.

Cedric dutifully sent that urgent bit of intel off to his mentor to handle as he continued to batch up the badly injured marine and his two remaining squadmates. “I have informed Apothecary Xonfried, who will ensure that this information is disseminated quickly. Is there anything that you or your squadmates would like to report?”

Nulik and Bekith both shook their heads “No, Apothecary. That’s the relevant part of what happened, other than the numbers of foul xenos we murdered.”

“Alright. You two are free to go, and they’ve got the food-tent up and running.. Brother Felixald, you’ll need to stay for a bit as you’ve lost a significant portion of blood, and I’m going to start you on an infusion to get your volume back up to what it should be.” Cedric murmured.

“Aye, I can tell by how the world spins unpleasantly beneath me.” Felixald answered, laying back on the table and letting Cedric care for him properly as his squadmates headed off to get something to eat.

Cedric was carefully re-sanitizing his workspace when he heard the tell-tale sounds of running astartes headed in his direction. The young Apothecary swiftly finished cleaning, the coppery tang of blood and the chemical-bitter scent of stressed Marine hitting Cedric.

A half-dozen Astartes rushed into his medical tent, carrying Brother-sergeant Jerahmiel between them on a stretcher. The firstborn Marine was very badly hurt, with dozens of armor-piercing wounds inflicted all over his body. To make things worse, the sargent appeared to have lost his helmet during battle, given the extensive new burns all over his head and face.

It did seem as if the older marine’s eyes were still fully functional, despite the awful state they were in, from the way they narrowed at Cedric's approach, a low hiss leaving the sergeant’s ruined lips and broken teeth.

“Honorable Older Brothers.” Cedric began, just loud enough to cover the wordless sounds of protest from the injured marine now on his surgical table, doing his best to protect a sense of concern and urgency “Each of you are also badly injured and I can only tend to one Brother at at im. I urge each of you to seek treatment immediately. I will do what I can to save the honorable brother sergeant.” He did not allow himself to feel anything but concern and determination in this moment.

It worked! The other battered and bleeding first born brothers quickly left to get their own wounds treated without so much as a backwards glance. Aware that if they stayed, Cedric would need to triage all seven of them, and would be forced to leave the brother-sargeant to be treated last, due to his all too tenuous grasp on life at the moment.

Cedric’s hands were steady and his face a mask of calm as he worked to clean, treat and bandage Jerahmiel wounds, listening to the sounds around the two of them. He also double checked to make sure that the sergeant’s armor was, as he methodically checked over the other’s injuries.

If his hands slipped a little occasionally, pressing too hard ,causing more pain than was necessary… Well that was due to his inexperience and exhaustion. Cedric had been diligently tending to his injured Brothers for weeks with minimal sleep or rest and food. Cedric had yet to administer any pain relievers because he needed to conserve supplies. Suffering was good for the body and soul, after all “Stop struggling. You are under my care nd you will take what I give you, BRothe.” Cedric commented.

THe twitchy, badly injured firstborn marine stilled compeltely as he said those words, his half-ruined yes locking onto Cedric’ss. Dread perfumed the air as the sergeant rasped out with ruined vocal cords, barely able to speak “Wh-what did you just say?” He was clearly familiar with the phrase.

Cedric smiled benignly down at the Brother-Sargeant and answered with “I need you restrained. You are resisting the inevitable and what is necessary. Resistance is not just futile, but heretical.”

The dread intensified and the badly injured bastard attempted to stand up and escape Cedric.

Hah

The firstborn Marine had barely managed to sit up when Cedric raised up one hand and lightly shoved Jerahmiel back down onto the surgical table, pressing against the other’s fractured ribs. It truly was remarkable how badly injured the fucker was. A pity he didn’t qualify for dreadnought entombment. He did not possess the skill and experience to save this astares’ life “If you are free of sin, the god-Emperor will ensure that you survive this trial, Brother.”

“How… Why… Why are you saying that? How do you know what I had told that mouthy abomination I culled under the orders of Chaplain Petras?” THe sergeant wheezed, fear and confusion clear on his face, along with a tremendous amount of pain.

“His armor recorded his last moments, and the proceeding conversation… Sir. Unlike yours, his armor was fully functional at the time of his death. I found the recording of you beating him to death for no good reason.” Cedric answered placidly “He was beaten to death because he was going to report your… Indiscretion with that civilian woman that he witnessed. DId you really think he would’ve confronted you about it without ensuring that should something have happened to him, that you would escape justice? The Emperor’s light shines upon us all equally. As does his judgment.”

“Are you..What are you … You… Agk!” Jerahmiel sputtered, clearly trying to make sense of Cedric’s words, and failing, from his clear confusion.

“The honored Primarch decreed Primaris Marines to be made. He sent us out to help our firstborn Brothers in protecting the Imperium. The high marshal has declared that we are not heretical. So what right do you have to brand us as such, for merely existing? Do you believe yourself more righteous than one of the loyal sons of the Emperor?” Cedrc purred, leaning more of his weight onto the badly injured bastard, helpless before him.

Renewed pain bloomed across the sergeant’s face, along with understanding and a primarl fury “You… Fucker! He hissed, spitting up at him, blood bubbling at the corners of his lips. Hisbreathing labored and uneven. Jerahmiel’s hearts were beating rapidly Cedric could feel them under his hands.

Cedric had injected the other with a paralytic which kept him helpless on the surgical table. The much younger marine grinned boyishly as he avoided the flying and bloody spittle “It’s suchc a shame you were too badly injured for me to save you with the resources I have available, sir. I’m sure your loss will be felt by the Crusade… But the relief that your loss by those who were inflicted by your temper and tyranny far outweigh the sorrow caused by your death.” He keeps increasing the pressure on the other’s broken ribs, feeling them shift.

The jagged, broken bone-shards dig into the bastard’s lungs deeper and deeper.

Jerahmiel’ glare was scorching.

Cedric was wholly unthreatened by him. He had the upper hand here, not this firstborn bastard.

Cedric laughed, breathing and victorious as he felt the other’s rib bones slide up into the fucker’s hearts. He kept pressing and shoving until the sergeant’s hearts had stopped beating and his body went limp.

Cedric then removed the other’s geneseed, placing it carefully in the appropriate container for viability testing. After that, Cedric removed all viable useful organts, implants and prosthetics. He had the other stripped of his rumor armor and weapons. Everything of value was sent off to their proper places.

After that, Cedric carried the bastard’s cooling body over to the promethium-fueled flaming body pit and tossed the sergeant’s corpse into it. As his body caught fire, Cedric dutifully logged Jerahmiel ‘s injuries and that he was KIA.

The young apothecary returned to his assigned medical tent, carefully cleaning all of his tools and the table, his hearts light and his conscience clear.

As an Apothecary, two of his jobs were harm reduction and threat nullification. Brother-sargeant Jerahmiel had killed a half-dozen primaris marines with no good cause, and his kills had begun to become more frequent and starting to cluster together. As were the excessive beatings and other acts of cruelty the fucker had visited upon living primaris marines. Cedric took pride in every aspect of being an Apothecary, and would neutralize other threats as the opportunity to do so came up. So long as his curtailing of cruelty did not cause more suffering amongst his fellow Primaris marines, of course.

Cedric hears more running footsteps and greets his next injured Brother-patient with a gentle and concerned smile on his face.

#cw blood #cw murder #cw wounds #cw medical terminolgy #cw medical practices #oc: cedric #oc: lestras #oc: malachai #oc: nelik #oc: Bekith #oc: ansen #oc: Aldenbrech #oc: olivar #black templars #warhammer 40k #my writing #oc: Felixald

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