#just fluff without plot tbh

[healmydesires]

Ok so the recent post that you made on my filthy thot Logan how about you take the led of dominance one night instead of Logan and he absolutely loves it

a/n: nonnie, this is sooooo hot. I kinda had to adjust it a bit tho <3 hope you don’t mind! thank you for sending this!!! 🩷 mwah

you got my attention ꕤ (l.h)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: Though Logan lets you take control and show your appreciation, in the end, you're still the one begging for him.

genre: smut (with some fluff in the end tbh) (18+ mdni)

word count: 5,8k

warnings/tags: established relationship, same universe as this fic, porn with barely no plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, lap dance, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, sub!reader, use of handcuffs, slight choking, dry humping, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, slight orgasm denial / edging but it’s short ngl, overstimulation, face sitting, doggy, rough sex, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk. some daddy kink? breeding kink fuck sorry. I wrote this while I’m on my period lol. lots of pet names. this is high key filthy. reader has hair, no further description though. after care. this is not beta read sorry!

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

You're sitting on the bed you share with Logan, waiting for him to enter the bedroom where you're dressed in soft, pastel lilac lace lingerie. You've been intimate with Logan many times before, so you know what to expect, but this time feels a little different. Your heart is racing, and you're feeling a bit anxious. Logan usually takes control in the bedroom, but tonight, you've been wondering what it would be like if you were the one to take the lead.

If there's one thing you love doing, it's teasing Logan. You thrive on the thrill of acting out just to get a reaction from him, and you enjoy being a brat more than anything. You love being submissive, and there's nothing you'd rather be. 

But the thought of making him feel like you're in control, even if only for a few minutes, gets you all hot and bothered. You know Logan might take back control quickly, but just having that moment of power excites you.

You’ve always thought that stripping for Logan or putting on a show would be something fun to try one night. The idea of showing him how much you appreciate him by dancing to sensual music while he sits back on a chair or the couch, watching your body move, excites you. Just thinking about it makes you feel hot and turned on.

Logan’s entrance pulls you out of your thoughts as the door swings open. His eyes lock on you immediately, taking in the sight of the delicate lingerie clinging to your skin. “Hi, pretty girl,” he says with a playful smile, clearly appreciating the little fabric you're wearing. 

The lingerie you’re wearing is a lilac set with turquoise and lilac flowers embroidered onto the lace. The cups of your balconette bra are pretty transparent unless it’s for the floral details at the top to the middle of the cups, barely covering your nipples. You can see his eyes travel from your chest to your waist as he takes in the elastic band, covered with the same lace pattern, of the suspenders. His eyes linger a bit too long as he takes in the small thing that barely hides the curves of your ass. A matching thong, the elastic band sitting just below your suspenders. Logan’s eyes wander from your covered core to your shoulders as he notices the lilac see through robe with lacy details hanging off your shoulders loosely.

“Hi,” you manage to respond, your voice soft and trembling. Your cheeks heating up as his intense gaze travels up and down your body, sending a wave of warmth through you. For a brief second, you feel the familiar pull to submit, to let him take control like always. But then you remind yourself to stick to your original intentions.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Sticking to your original plan, you clear your throat and muster the courage to speak, despite the stutter. “C-could you, uh, sit in the chair?” You ask, nervously. Logan raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your request.

An amused smile then tugs at the corners of his lips as he nods briefly, surprised but clearly understanding what you're trying to do. “Are you asking or telling?” Logan teases, his voice smooth, challenging, and dripping with amusement.

The playful tone sends a shiver through you, momentarily shaking your confidence. You know he’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll follow through. Swallowing the nervousness building inside you, you take a slow, deep breath, determined to stick to your plan, no matter how intimidating his presence feels right now.

His response makes your heart pound in your chest. Mustering up every ounce of confidence you can find, you lock eyes with him and say, “I said go sit in the chair.” The words feel foreign on your tongue, definitely out of character for you, but there's a spark of amusement in Logan's eyes that encourages you to keep going.

You can tell he’s entertained by this rare side of you, and though it feels strange, the thrill of his reaction pushes you to stick with it. His eyebrow raises slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, and for a moment, you feel a rush of control that excites you even more.

Logan never takes his eyes off you as he makes his way to the chair in the corner of the room. Settling into it, he leans back, his posture relaxed, yet his gaze remains sharp and unwavering. You watch as takes off his shirt and pulls down his jeans, exposing his hard cock pressing against his boxers. The look he gives you, despite your attempt to take control, makes it clear he still holds the power. His mischievous eyes silently tell you he could end your little fantasy whenever he chooses, effortlessly reminding you of who’s really in charge, even as he watches you with quiet anticipation.

Logan watches you walk towards the closet, opening it before you kneel down on the soft carpet in front of it as your hand tries to reach for something inside the closet. His eyes travel to your ass, observing your curves, how plump your ass looks. The way your cheeks squeeze the barely there material between them.

You can practically feel his eyes burning into you—more specifically, your ass—because you know exactly where he's staring. The heat of his gaze makes you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. After rummaging for a moment, you finally find what you’re looking for and stand up slowly, making sure to give Logan a lingering view of your curves. The sound of his low groan reaches your ears, sending a thrill through you. You close the closet doors and turn around, carefully hiding the vivid pink, silky handcuffs you picked up along with the lingerie just days ago.

Keeping the handcuffs tucked behind your back, you walk slowly toward him, not quite ready to reveal your little secret yet. As you reach him, you lean down to plant a soft, teasing kiss on his lips. It ends far too quickly for his liking, and a deep grunt escapes his throat as you pull away, leaving him wanting more. Your hand trails lightly from one of his shoulders, across his chest, to the other, the soft touch of your fingers making his skin feel like it's on fire. You can feel the tension radiating off him, his body almost trembling from the contact, as you circle behind him. You know he could moan from just the simple touch, and the thought of having him on edge excites you even more.

You take the handcuffs, the sound of the metal clinking behind him making Logan’s ears perk up. You hook one around his wrist, half-expecting him to protest, but when he remains silent, you continue and secure the other cuff in place. You lift your head to his neck, leaning down to press a soft kiss at his pulse point, making him moan as you finish up behind him. Walking back to face him, you notice a playful smile spread across his face, a look that makes your heart race.

“What?” you ask, mirroring his amused expression, but a sudden wave of self-consciousness washes over you as you realise he’s not taking you seriously at all.

“Nothing, princess,” Logan shrugs, his grin widening. 

You roll your eyes at his nonchalance. “Sure.” Normally, on any other day, Logan would have you pinned beneath him or bent over his knee, spanking you until your skin is flushed and raw. But tonight, he finds it endearing to watch you take charge. So, instead of resisting, he decides to lean into it. In fact, he’s more than willing to let you explore this new dynamic and see just how far you’ll take it.

Then, you lean down and plant a soft kiss just beneath his ear, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Now sit back and watch. Let me take care of you,” you whisper seductively in his ear, your breath warm against his skin. With that, you glide toward the desk, feeling the thrill of anticipation coursing through you as you search for the perfect song to dance to. 

A smile spreads across your face as you finally settle on a track that feels just right. Pressing play, the smooth beats of "Sway" by Majid Jordan fill the room, setting the mood with its sultry rhythm. As the music envelops you, you can sense Logan’s eyes on you, filled with a mix of curiosity and desire. The moment feels electric, and you know it’s time to give him a show he won’t forget.

You stride toward the bed, positioning yourself right in the center of the room, directly in front of him. As the singer begins to croon the lyrics, you let the robe slide down your shoulders, pausing just at your elbows, deliberately teasing him with each movement. Swaying your hips slowly to the beat of the song, you lick your lips, feeling the heat of his gaze on you. 

With each deliberate motion, your hands glide slowly up and down your chest, accentuating your curves as you keep your eyes locked on his. You circle your hips, letting the rhythm guide you, fully aware of the effect it has on him. The air is thick with tension, and you can feel the desire radiating from him, fueling your confidence as you embrace the moment.

Temptation, conversation, I hear what you sayin'~♪ 

You lose yourself to the song as you move your body closer to his, still keeping a good distance between you two. 

“Baby girl, you’re so hot…” Logan groans as his eyes admire your body, his eyes flicking back and forth from one place to the other like he doesn’t know where to look.

Playing safe but we're losing our patience~♪ 

With each sway (literally, like the title of the song) of your hips, you move to the rhythm of the song, feeling the music pulse through you as you notice his gaze tracing the curves of your body, lingering over every dip and contour.

The combination of his awestruck expression and your confident movements sends a thrill through you, urging you to keep going. You enjoy the way he watches, almost hypnotised, as you revel in the moment, fully aware that you’re in control.

Doin' things that my body is cravin'~♪ 

Your fingers wander from your hips to your backside and you squeeze your cheeks softly as you give Logan a show. The moment he sees you touching yourself like this, a low moan escapes his lips, and you can’t help but bite your own in response, revelling in the effect you have on him.

The pleasure of his gaze fuels your confidence, making you feel even more desirable. You relish the way he watches, captivated and hungry for more, as you continue to tease him, lost in the thrill of the moment.

So amazing the way that she moves~♪ She's my favorite dancer~♪ 

Seductively, you slowly turn around, then you sink yourself to the floor. Once on your knees, you crawl steadily towards him. As you’re slowly making your way to him, you’re never breaking eye contact as you smile up at him. 

As you draw closer, you rise up onto your knees, your hands gliding along his ankles and tracing up to his thighs. You gently spread his legs wider, making room for yourself between them. Logan's breath hitches in his throat at your boldness, and you can’t help but smile coyly as you bite your bottom lip, savouring his reaction. 

Your hands continue their journey, moving from his thighs to his hips and then to his waist, feeling the heat radiating off him. Slowly but sensually, you rise in front of him, each movement deliberate, exuding confidence and allure as you prepare to captivate him even further.

“You’re breathtaking…” he moans your name while your lips move to ghost over his lips. You feel and see his squirm against the hold of the handcuffs.

You smirk as you hover your hips over his lap. Using the music to your advantage, you move your body to the rhythm of the song, making sure to emphasise on your movements. Your arms around his neck as you slowly lower your lower body on his lap, sitting down, your heat against his clothed cock straining against his underwear. Pressing your needy and throbbing clit against his dick. His eyes are gazing into yours, all you can see is lust and desire. You grind against his crotch making Logan groan at your movements. Finally you lean down your lips against his, swallowing his moans in your mouth. 

“You’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispers breathily against your lips as you continue your little performance, swaying and grinding your hips against his. You hum with a smile before you capture his lips again. 

His mouth moves against yours, slow and passionate. He parts his lips slightly to catch his breath. Your tongue sweeps across Logan’s lips making him gasp, tongue wrapping itself against his a moment later, hot and wet and steady as you taste his mouth and kiss him deeply.

Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands wander all over his body. You feel your core clench around nothing and become even more wet the more you grind against him. You whimper at the feel of him bucking his hips against yours, wrapping your arms around his neck and initiating a hungry kiss. The thong you’re wearing surely ruined by now, clinging against your wet folds.

Soon the music would fade into the background as all you can focus on is him. Logan’s leaning his head forward as much as he can, wanting so badly to grab handfuls of your ass while slipping his tongue into your mouth. He moans into your mouth, biting and sucking on your bottom lip. 

You begin to rock your hips against his, dragging your core over his crotch, the friction sending pleasurable sensations coursing through you. However, a wave of self-consciousness washes over you, leaving you unsure about how to proceed. Despite this uncertainty, you continue the movement, instinctively seeking relief for the ache building in your core. 

Logan notices the hesitation in your movements, his perceptive gaze catching the flicker of insecurity in your eyes. He starts to thrust his hips against yours, urging you on. “Good girl, you can do it,” he says in his low, deep voice, the words igniting a whimper from your lips as you pick up the pace, guiding your hips a bit faster in response. 

“Need you, kitten. Please, I need to feel you. Take these panties off,” he pleads, his tone dripping with desire. You shake your head, refusing to comply, which only draws a chuckle from him as he watches you squirm on top of him.

“I don’t take orders from you. I’ll choose when I want to take them off,” you retort, feeling a thrill of defiance as his eyes wander from your face to your soaked panties. The big wet spot at the front betrays just how much you want his cock filling you up, pushing deep inside and making a mess.

“Just you wait until I’m out of these,” Logan replies, maintaining that boyish smile that makes your heart race. You hardly care about his playful threat; instead, you steady yourself on his shoulders and keep grinding your clit against his clothed cock. He’s right about the panties, but you’re not about to let him dictate the moment. Reaching down, you push the fabric aside, letting your pussy lips glide against him, the contact sending shivers through your body. 

“Oh, kitten,” he moans, captivated by the sight of your arousal dripping down onto his underwear. “Look at you.” His low, sultry voice sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the sensation of his throbbing cock against your wetness nearly overwhelming.

“Feels so fucking good,” you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as waves of pleasure wash over you.

As the pressure builds toward your orgasm, you suddenly stand up, discarding the delicate lingerie that clings to you. As you’re undressing yourself in front of him he can’t help but growl. You glance at him cautiously, as he stares at you hungrily. You’re longing for him to taste you but feeling a hint of embarrassment about taking the initiative. It’s as if he can read your mind when he says, “Go ahead baby girl, let me taste you.” His encouragement sparks a rush of confidence within you, urging you to take control and fully embrace the moment.

His choice of words only heightens your arousal, making it feel as if he’s the one compelling you to act. Logan's cock is oozing with precum, and you can feel the dampness spreading on his underwear as you hook a leg over his shoulder, bringing yourself closer to him. 

You stretch a bit uncomfortably in this position, but any discomfort fades away the moment he leans forward and licks from your entrance to the top of your clit. 

A loud moan escapes you as his warm, wet tongue finally makes contact with your pussy. You sigh into the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut as you tangle your fingers in his hair, anchoring yourself as you urge him deeper. His tongue glides up your folds, skillfully exploring your puffy lips, occasionally pausing to plant soft kisses on your clit. He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth.

Logan groans against you, sending delicious vibrations coursing through your body as you tug on his hair, lost in the pleasure. You find yourself grinding your hips forward, desperately seeking more contact as your arousal drips down into his beard.

“That’s it, good girl, use my fuckin’ mouth,” he moans against you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking gently. He alternates between sucking it in and releasing it, the repetitive motion making your head spin. “Taste so good.”

“Fuck, Lo—” you whine as you grind yourself against his lips.

Each flick and tug sends you spiralling, and you begin to whine, yearning for his large fingers to fill your tight little hole. Frustration simmers beneath the surface as you slip deeper into that precious sub headspace, becoming acutely aware of his restrained hands. Logan picks up on your shift in mood immediately.

“Please, Lo,” you cry out, desperation lacing your voice. You need him so badly it borders on painful.

“Please, what?” he retorts, then dives his tongue into your clenching hole, making you gasp. He groans, fucking your little pussy with his tongue, his nose brushing tantalizingly over your clit. “This is what you wanted, ain’t that right?” 

“F-fuck, ah, I’m gonna c-cum,” you gasp, urgency spilling from your lips instead of a question. The relentless contact of his nose against your sensitive clit pushes you to the edge, and your pussy contracts around his tongue, releasing a wave of pleasure. You scream his name repeatedly, tugging at his hair with a mix of urgency and desperation, your ears ringing as the world around you fades into bliss, unaware of the metal cuffs breaking free.

You can feel his hands on your skin, the heat of your orgasm squirting out of you, painting his mouth beautifully as he continues to feast on your cunt. You breathe heavily as Logan moans loudly at the sweet taste of you, feeling both blissed out and utterly exposed.

You’re still coming down from your high when suddenly, you yelp in surprise as he lifts you with ease, your trembling legs instinctively wrapping around his body. In one fluid motion, Logan throws you onto the bed, and a whine escapes your lips as you feel the familiar neediness surge within you, your pussy so slick and wanting for more.

He pulls his boxers down, letting his erection finally spring free. Logan’s thick and big cock is so hard, dripping with precum and you almost whimper at the sight of it. He then makes his way up to the bed. Situating himself between your legs he smiles deviously. 

Oh—

“Get on your hands and knees for me, kitten. I’ll show you who’s in control.” 

Your cheeks flare up furiously at his request, you feel your body trembling with excitement as you flip on your stomach, getting on your hands and knees, your face down on the mattress as you raise your ass in the air for him. Logan groans when you wiggle for him, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.

You bite your bottom lip and can’t help getting even more aroused as you think about finally having him inside.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby. All dripping wet for me,” he whispers to you and you feel his fingers sliding up and down your slit and then opening your folds for him to see.

You wanted to tell him how he’s the only one that can do this to you, how much you love him, but then he grabs both of your ass cheeks in his hands, parting them as he quickly leans down and licks up your exposed pussy, catching you completely by surprise making you almost fall on the bed, your arms almost giving out on you.

You feel your inner walls clenching around nothing as he keeps licking up and down and sucking on your clit. When you whine, his tongue swirls around your entrance.

“F-fuck, s-so sensitive. Da-daddy please, oh—”

But then he pulls his lips away from your lower ones and you whimper desperately at the loss of the feeling of his tongue, only to have him kiss your lower back and up your spine, hands sliding up and down your body.

“Please,” you whine pathetically.

You can't see it, but he's smiling down at you, shaking his head as he revels in his victory over the battle for control. “What happened, baby? Suddenly you need my help?”

You shake your head yes rapidly, not caring how desperate you look. “Please, please, I’ll be good for you, please. I’ll be your good girl.” 

“I thought you wanted to be in control,” he pokes fun at you, his hips not touching as he places soft kisses down your back. You wish he was fucking into you already. You start to whine when you feel his thumb press into your clit. He doesn’t move it at all, just applies slight pressure and lets it rest there. “But you need your daddy, don’t you? You need me so badly. Pathetic little kitty.” 

“I-I do,” you gasp, frustrated by his unmoving thumb. Your body is trembling in anticipation. “Please daddy.” 

A moment later you feel him grind his thick cock against your dripping heat, you’re aching for him to fill you up. A loud moan fills the room along with your whines, with a strong grip on your hips a second later he eases the tip inside, making you gasp as your whole body trembles. 

“Please…” You whine desperately as you feel him halt his movements, a small portion of the tip only inside you. Wiggling your hips you try to push back against him but the strong hold that he has on you makes it hard for you to move.

“Patience baby girl,”

You whimper as he finally slides more and more of his thickness inside of you. You squeeze your eyes tightly as he fills you up. The pressure of his cock deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.

“Take it, princess. Take daddy’s cock.”

Then his massive cock is completely splitting you open. Logan thrusts his whole length into you, black dots cover your vision at the feeling of it. Your pussy pulses around him as you struggle to adjust to his size.

“Ah, fuck!” Tears are already dripping down your face onto the mattress. His cock is so big, long and hard and he makes your pussy and tummy feel so full of him. 

You whimper at the new angle, struggling to accommodate his impressive girth. It feels as though your pussy can never fully adjust to his size. As your walls squeeze around him, trying to adapt, Logan uses more force to push deeper, stretching you further. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming, as it feels like you’re being torn open, split in half by his thickness.

“Oh, sweet girl. I’ve got you,” he soothes and starts moving, fucking you at an impossible pace. The sound of your ass slapping against him fills the room along with both of your frantic moans. His heavy balls are hitting against your clit with every thrust. The feeling is heaven on earth. 

All you can answer with are moans as they slip off your lips. Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell Logan, breathlessly, about how good he makes you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. Logan picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the mattress to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, you whine as you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his thick cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, the tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goooohhhood daddy, p-please more…”

“Yeah? You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once, making you cry out in pleasure. Your moans grow louder with each movement, blending with the slick sounds of your pussy meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with the little noises of pleasure escaping your mouth. 

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” Logan asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you like it.”

“Yes, daddy. Fuck, please… Can I please cum?” you ask this time, completely out of breath. 

“No, you little brat,” Logan growls, picking up the pace even more. He grabs you by your hair, jerks your head up and pulls you back towards him. “Patience.” 

The delicious thrusts of his cock don’t falter as he presses your back into his chest. He wraps a strong hand around your throat, and the other arm holds you steady by the waist. 

“I can’t, I can’t,” you whimper repeatedly, your body trembling with need.

“Oh, I know you can,” he says aggressively. “I know you fuckin’ can. And you will.” 

He grinds his hips in circles, and you nearly scream from the overwhelming sensation. You desperately try to hold back the orgasm that's building rapidly, clenching your pussy tightly around his thick cock. He lets out deep moans at the feeling of you, fully aware that he’s close to cumming but wanting to savour your pussy for just a little longer. Logan slows his pace slightly, giving both of you a brief moment to catch your breath before he picks up the rhythm again, quick and rough.

“Look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.” Logan cursed when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “I’m gonna fill this pussy up, kitten, make it all nice and full,” he promises.

The head of his cock rubs against your walls deliciously, snapping you out of your small daze as you nod frantically. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up daddy!” You’re whimpering with every thrust of his cock. 

“Tell me who’s in control and I’ll let you cum,” he says slowly into your ear, grip around your throat tightening a bit and making the feeling that more intense.

“You, Lo,” you manage to get out, “Always you.”

“Cum on my cock then,” Logan gives you permission. Another few thrusts is all it takes to send you over the edge, shouting out his name as your ears ring from the pressure. You’re on cloud nine as you let your body relax and feel the brutal pounding of his cock. It drags inside of you so perfectly, hitting every sweet spot you have. Your needy cunt is clenching, throbbing, and milking his cock while you cum all over him.  Logan groans in your ear as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him for his orgasm, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised. “This pussy was made for me. So fuckin’ tight wrapped around me.” 

Your cum drips down both of your legs, coating his cock and balls, quickly forming a wet spot on the sheets beneath you. As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, Logan talks you through it, whispering dirty nothings in your ear. He gasps as you pulse around him, desperate for him to spill his load inside you, needing to witness him fall apart.

“Ah, shit—” he rasps, thrusting deeper, the bulbous head of his cock hitting your cervix with delicious force. “Are you going to take my cum like a good girl? Let me fill you up until you’re a messy little thing, hm?”

You shiver at his words, your mouth dropping open in awe as you close your eyes, completely lost in the sensation, nodding eagerly. “Please, please.”

Moments later, you feel him unravel against you, and soon his cum starts to shoot deep inside you. 

“Fuck, just like that,” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “Such a good baby girl.”

As his thrusts come to a complete stop, he pulls out of you, and you let your body fall limp against the mattress, feeling utterly drained. Soon Logan wraps an arm around you, effortlessly spinning you around to pull you against his chest. He kisses you softly, and you moan at the taste of yourself still on his lips. As he pulls away, he gazes down at you with soft eyes and a charming smile, the warmth of the moment enveloping you both.

“Sorry for ruining your little plan,” Logan teases gently, a playful glint in his eyes.

“No, that’s okay,” you reply quickly, smiling up at him. “I figured I’d give it a try… but I feel like I’m not that great at it.”

He shakes his head, leaning closer. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweet girl. That was so fuckin' hot. In fact, I might want you to try it again.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your eyes brightening at his praise.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Maybe next time, I can teach you a thing or two about taking control.”

“Really?” You smile happily, your fingers running through his messy dark hair. 

“Mhm,” he hums, his heart swelling at your excitement.

Biting your lip bashfully, you shrug, looking up at him with a shy smile. “I much prefer having you in control, though.”

“That so?” Logan smirks mischievously, his hands beginning to wander all over your body, reigniting the familiar heat between you.

“Yes, you’re so hot when you’re dominant,” you giggle, leaning up to cover Logan’s face with playful kisses.

“Oh, just when I’m dominant?” he teases, smirking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Logan, you know what I mean!” you pout, continuing to pepper kisses all over his face. “You’re always hot!”

Logan chuckles, his deep voice vibrating through you as he gently cups your cheeks with both hands, trying to capture your lips. Once he does, he presses a series of quick, light pecks against your mouth, grinning widely. You giggle against him, the sound filling the space between you both as he keeps chasing your lips, clearly enjoying the lighthearted moment.

“I love you so much, baby. You mean everything to me,” Logan murmurs against your lips, his voice low and full of emotion. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him closer as his warmth surrounds you. 

With a gentle roll, Logan shifts your bodies, laying you down so your back sinks into the softness of the blankets and pillows. His lips never leave yours as you feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, his hands still cradling your face, his thumb brushing tenderly across the skin under your eyes. 

“You’re everything to me too, Lo,” you whisper, your voice soft and full of affection, a smile tugging at your lips. “I love you.”

You’re both basking in each other’s presence, the quiet intimacy between you settling into something warm and peaceful. The earlier rush of passion has given way to a serene calmness, where even the soft rhythm of your breaths seems to sync together. Logan’s fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, and you feel completely at ease, wrapped in his embrace. 

Then, just as you’re lulled into this tranquil moment, you notice a familiar gleam of mischief in Logan’s eyes. His hands slowly slide down to your hips, fingers pressing lightly against your skin in a way that sends a subtle thrill through you. He caresses you slowly, and the soft strokes make your body stir. 

With a playful grin, he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “Another round?” His voice is teasing but full of intent, a promise of what’s to come. You feel the shift in his energy, playful yet laced with the kind of desire that tells you he’s far from finished with you tonight. 

“Logan!” you giggle, giving him a playful push, but he only grins wider. In a swift motion, he pulls you close again, silencing your laughter with a deep, passionate kiss. Your playful giggles soon turn into soft, breathy moans as his hands roam your body, and yours do the same, tracing the familiar lines of his muscles.

The night unfolds in a tangle of kisses and wandering hands, the air between you charged with love and desire. Every touch, every kiss, is a reminder of the bond you share, and the passion between you feels endless. The world fades away, and all that remains is Logan. His touch, his gaze, and the warmth of his presence pull you in, leaving you completely lost in him.

thank you for reading <3 mwah

[doomedmoth]

Three’s a crowd

Pairing : Poly and bisexual fem!reader | reader x alexandra saint mleux x charles lerclerc

Warnings : use of y/n, polyamory, fluff, very light angst, request, not much more tbh

Synopsis : Request : Could you write a poly fic about Charles, Alexandra and Y/N ? Everyone is celebrating Charles’ brand LEC but since Charles and Alex are the public couple (for Ferrari PR etc), Y/N can’t do anything. She’s starting to feel left out because of it since they’re going out and celebrating without her, they keep leaving her out and forgetting important dates (her birthday or smthg). Happy ending please !

Moth’s prophecy💡: Thank you to the anonymous cryptid for the request, I tweaked it a bit but still kept the main plot, and I hope you and the other poly enjoyers will like it ! Thanks again for the support and great ideas !

“Okay one… two… three… and posted !” You threw yourself in Charles’ arms as he clicked on the button and threw his phone away immediately, catching both you and Alex in a cuddle.

“You did it !” Alexandra pinched at his cheeks and you ruffled his hair, hands trembling with excitement.

Finally his ice-cream brand, Lec, was out, the main announcement posted on Instagram. The end of countless sleepless nights and never ending zoom calls, meetings at the worst time possible, and secrets to keep. Of course, now the promotion would be another handful, but at least the three of you would deal with it together. And you had always been pretty good at supporting your lovers.

You got into a more comfortable position on Charles’ lap, head resting against his, as Alexandra had gotten up and started her, as she called it, “happy dance”, which consisted mostly in jumping in circles screaming until she got dizzy. As you snorted, Alexandra very clearly loosing balance, Charles took your hand in his, softly rubbing it with his fingers.

“Thank you… I know it hasn’t been easy to deal with this on top of the races and everything… You’ve been amazing. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” You could not help a smirk from coming up your lips, and thought this was the time to charge again.

“I know how you can repay me…” You straddled him, and as he did his best to appear confident and in charge, his blush betrayed his shyness. Alex had stopped spinning, seemingly much more interested in what was taking place on the couch. “Maybe you could…” You got closer to him, and peppered his neck with kisses until you got to his ear, in which you whispered as seductively as you could. “Maybe you could get me a dog ?”

He immediately rolled his eyes and playfully pushed you away as you laughed at his bright red cheeks. You had dreamt of having your own dog for so long, specifically a longhaired dachshund, and both Alex and Charles had said no multiple times. Charles’ arguments were mainly that he was away too often to properly care for it, and your girlfriend, who called the breed “hairy sausages”, argued she would have to deal with all the responsibilities of it because both yours and Charles’ works took a lot of time. And though she actually found dogs very cute, she did not have an interest big enough for them to manage her schedule around one.

You had pleaded to Lewis to use Roscoe to convince them, managed to go partly remote with your job, and flooded their messages with videos of dogs almost daily. At this point, you were seriously considering getting one in secret just to see how long it would take for them to realize, and then argue it is too late to give it back.

“Sure.” What ? You sat straight up on Charles as he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You couldn’t have heard well. You turned to Alex, who shrugged.

“I can’t deal with seeing you cry over reels anymore, and Mimi’s pretty cute.” She gave you a warm smile. Mimi was your friend’s dog, the one who got you into dachshund in the first place.

“You’re not serious, are you ? You’re just in a good mood. You’re joking.” Charles actually laughed, and you thought your heart wouldn’t be able to handle a prank.

“Promis juré ma princesse. Why not, you want one, you can take care of it, who am I to deny you ? Let’s get you a dog.”

No matter how well isolated was your apartment, you thought you would be lucky if no neighbors came to complain tomorrow. There was a lot to celebrate for one night.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I really need you to give Leo back, we’re going to take pictures…” Searching desperately for support in Alex’s eyes, you felt sick when you saw her staring at the ground. You were so shaken you let the event coordinator take the puppy from your arms and give him to Alexandra, who sheepishly turned her back to you and walked towards the press wall.

Charles himself was nowhere and everywhere at once, it was no use trying to get him to advocate for you. Too stressed by the beginning of the racing season combined with the launching events for Lec, he had mindlessly agreed to most of his agent’s suggestions, including playing what the Ferrari PR team had called “happy family”. Following the announcement of Carlos’ replacement, they needed good news to balance, and thought emphasizing Charles’ couple and furry kid would pull at a few heartstrings. But in their good Italian traditional beliefs, there was no place for a third, and since you had always been more busy, and therefore more discreet, than Alexandra, the cut had been made. They were to be the hit couple for a while, in a vain but admittedly successful attempt at calming the fans.

You had had little to no say, Charles having always been your voice in those kinds of businesses, and Alexandra being media trained to perfection. You thought back on your promises, on your dedication to be supportive of them, and decided the best thing to do would be to go get some air. It wasn’t as if you would be missed anyway.

As you stepped on one of the secluded balconies, the cold breeze of the night came to slap your face, and without anyone’s arms or jacket to comfort you, you suddenly felt very lonely. The evening had dragged on enough, you just wanted to go home. Debating between taking a cab or waiting for your lovers, you took out your phone, only to be flooded by notifications from your socials. You barely used them, so had no idea why they would be so active all of a sudden.

Both Instagram and Twitter greeted you with the same pictures taken either by fans or paparazzis. You shopping with Carlos’s girlfriend, Leo trotting happily by your side, as well as another few at a restaurant with friends, where Leo was sleeping on your lap while Charles and Alex were somewhere in the background, probably discussing going dancing after. The usual. But this time, all the comments seemed to agree on one thing. The dog wasn’t yours.

“Did they lend her the dog for the day ?”. “Leo’s godmother.” “Is she gonna be the babysitter while they’re gone ?” “Me when my friends get a baby”.

You three had always been private, but not secret. People made their own opinions anyway, and you did not care much about polishing a public persona. You did not use socials, Alex had private accounts, and Charles’ were managed by his PR team. In the end, even though you had dated Alexandra since high school, and Charles for a bit more than a year, the lack of official pictures or announcement, coupled with Ferrari’s new strategy, only served as validation to those who affirmed the real couple were Alexandra and Charles.

You felt sick, cold, and particularly lonely. Cab it would be.

“Babe what are you doing outside like that, you’ll get a cold !” You felt his jacket fall on your shoulders before you even heard him walk up to you. Ears buzzing, eyes watering, you weren’t sure you were able to face him.

“I’m gonna go home. I’ll leave you with your girlfriend and your dog if you don’t mind.” When you turned to him, you saw right behind one of the girls in charge of the party holding Leo, and your blood started boiling again. Charles was looking at you all confused, and you felt an itch to slap him.

“What ? What are you on about ? How ‘bout you come back inside, I think Leo misses you.” He chuckled, and you thought a full punch would probably be better than a slap.

“I don’t think your dog misses me.” The words felt like poison in your mouth, but you wanted him to get it. To understand how ridiculous this situation was getting. And why wouldn’t the girl put him down, he was clearly uncomfortable in her arms ? Why was no one taking it seriously ?

“Leo’s your dog, Y/N, I don’t get it…”

“Then give him back to me !” You screamed and the puppy yapped back, before jumping from the assistant’s arms, who shrieked and struggled to get him back. Too late, he had found your arms before she managed to pull the leash. “You should probably talk with your team, Charles.” He frowned at the use of his name, which almost always meant you were pissed. “Goodnight.”

As they finished filling their suitcases, you thought back on this evening, and that you probably should have shut your mouth. Following Lec’s launching party, what you hoped would be a wake up call for your lovers turned into something even worse. Charles was indeed called in for a talk with the PR team. And then Alex too. Your turn never came, and the more the days passed, the more it appeared your relationship was being taken over by management and marketing teams.

The following weeks had been a blur of unspoken tensions and meaningless routines. Breakfast alone, walking Leo only in the areas pre-approved to avoid pictures, going to work without him and coming home to new communication materials published with his face on it, work calls for your boyfriend stretching into the night, and your girlfriend going out so often it seemed her side of the bed was getting colder with each passing day. They both seemed to have undergone a sad transformation, their fiery and protective spirits dampened by forced compromises. Something told you they had been pushed to agree to the new directive, and yet you couldn’t help but stay mad at them. You understood Charles. The pressure he was under, the expectations of the whole team, the weight of his responsibilities. But Alexandra, you had known for too long. She had never been one to bow down and blindly agree to unfair decisions. She had loved you, through good and bad. She had promised you, together forever. And now she kept her hands by her side on the street and you wondered when her clothes had stopped smelling like you.

They kissed you goodbye, promised you mountains of gifts and a magnificent restaurant when they returned, but the door had not even closed when you fell crying to your knees. You had moved to the couch and slept there, your puppy watching over you, when your mother knocked on the door the following morning.

“Happy birthday darling !” She opened her arms and you ran in them, grabbing at your siblings behind her to get them in the hug too.

You had hoped to be out of tears by now, having spent the night reading articles speculating on why you were living with Formula 1 hottest couple -were you a distant relative ? A friend of Alex in need of a place to crash ?-, but the warm embrace of family members you hadn’t seen for months was enough to bring you back to the edge.

“Where are my favorite in-laws ?” She was beaming as she settled her belongings on the kitchen counter. “Oh that’s my baby grandson, come here baby !” She took Leo in her arms and you thought you had more time to breathe, but your younger brother tugged at your sleeve.

“Can Charlie take me on the boat ? I learned how to do a backflip at school and he can film me do it from the boat and then the others are gonna be so jealous and” You put your hand on his head and ruffled his hair softly.

“I’m sorry… Charles isn’t there. Alex too.” Your mother furrowed her brows and gave you a puzzled look. “Race weekend, and they were expected at an event they couldn’t cancel.” Your voice, barely above a whisper, was already shaking. You felt your tears ready to spill over, and gritted your teeth. “Last minute decision.”

Your brother only groaned and ran to the balcony to look at the port, already over it, but your mother came to hold your hand, and you exchanged a look of “we’ll talk about it later”.

Unfortunately, by the time you all came back from your evening out, and the kids were in bed, your mother was faced with the situation without leaving you any time to explain.

“Y/N, dear, come here please…” You sat next to her with two glasses of wine, and looked over her shoulder to her phone, where she had some celebrities gossip website open. “Is that the event they couldn’t cancel for your birthday ?” Her tone was cold, and you took at better look at the pictures.

A sunset movie-worthy, one of those that always brought tears to your eyes. A small table with candles and flowers on the beach, cocktails so colorful you could almost taste them from afar. Holding hands, looking at each other like the world had stopped, your lovers were apparently having the time of their life in a romantic restaurant, on your birthday evening. You took out your own phone. No messages.

The panic attack struck you without warning. Your heart had clenched all at once, and despite your mother’s attempt at laying you on your back, your muscles kept you rolled in a ball. You felt as if every breath was tearing apart your lungs, and could feel your heartbeat from your ears to the tip of your fingers. You could vaguely hear her talking to you, but it was as if a wall was standing between you, yet her touch felt very close, too close, as if her usually soft fingers were now burning your arms. Was it the end ? Was it how your great love story ended, alone on a Saturday night, crying so much you were drooling on the couch ? Your body was aching like never before, were you about to pass out ? To simply die ?

In the end you only managed to fall asleep after your mom calmed you down. You thought before closing your eyes that even your pain was disappointing.

You were helping your siblings pack up their bags when they came home, arms filled with packages. The little ones jumped to them, glad to have at least been able to say hello before leaving, but your mother stayed by your side, not even greeting them. She thanked them coldly for the gifts, and pushing the children towards the door, gave you a sympathetic look. She said she would always be there for you. She said you could come home if needed. But when Leo jumped on the couch and laid next to you, you knew no matter how painful it was, your home was here and there. You just needed time. You would figure it out, together. But not tonight. Tonight you just wanted out.

“Happy belated birthday, princesse.” Charles said tentatively, his voice tinged with uncertainty as he gestured to the mountain of gifts piled on the table. Alex sat by your side, but you got up before she could hold your hand.

“I don’t want your gifts. I want an apology. Think well about what you’ve done.” You kissed your puppy’s head and left the apartment immediately.

Almost running in the hallways and stairs, you got to his door panting. You knew he was back, they always made the journey together. So when he opened the door, clearly exhausted and surprised to see you, you broke down once again.

“I’m sorry Max… can I come in ?” He immediately closed the door behind you and called for his girlfriend, while his step daughter Penelope came to hug your legs. You collapsed on their sofa, shoulders shaking with silent sobs, unable to find the words to explain the depth of your pain. Kelly and Penelope tried to soothe you with soft voices and hugs, but Max only managed to pace the room, his jaw clenched in anger.

“What the hell happened ?” He had always been so sweet to you, so welcoming in this unfamiliar world. You felt bad for seeking comfort in his home after he had just came back. But the gates were opened, and while you cried, you still managed to make out a few words, enough for the couple to piece out the situation.

Penelope stayed close to you, hugging you with all the warmth a child could muster, while Kelly had been forced to stand in front of the door to prevent your friend from committing murder. They were now arguing silently, and you felt your eyes get heavier by the minute, strangely lulled to sleep by their hushed whispers. You had finally put words on what was happening, and the little girl’s cuddles had managed to calm you down to the point of dozing off.

“I think you should take her home.” Kelly murmured, still worried.

Max nodded in agreement, and he carefully scooped you in his arms, cradling you against his chest as he carried you back to your apartment. Charles was standing in the doorway, Alex pacing behind him, and both let him pass, faces etched with concern.

“You two stay right there.” Max’s voice was sharp, commanding not to argue. He laid you down in your bed, tucking the covers around you and stroking your hair until sleep finally claimed you. When he tried to leave the apartment, your two lovers were still standing by the door, begging to be heard.

“Max, please, what’s going on…” Alexandra tried to get close but he immediately took a step back, and pointed his finger at her.

“You had your chance to make things right by staying this weekend. You blew it up. Take your responsibilities.” He then turned to Charles, and almost spat to his face. “And you… I thought family was supposed to always come first. Maybe I was wrong.” His face was distorted with anger, and his knuckles white on the door handle. “You two have to man up for once in your fucking life. Either you tell Ferrari, and everyone who’s putting their noise in your business, to fuck off, or you loose her.”

With that, he slammed the door, leaving Charles and Alexandra with the consequences of their actions. They knew they had been fooled. Manipulated. Two nights ago, when the pictures of them had been taken, they were having one of the worst conversation possible. One they wanted to share with you as soon as possible, and in person, and not on your birthday. They were now wondering how they could do so without sounding like liars.

Would you trust them ? Believe Charles, when he would tell you the PR team had said you weren’t cut for fame, that the spotlights were obviously making you stressed, that you would be happier away from it all ? Believe Alex, when she would admit that they had threatened her with your boyfriend’s career, as well as your own, reminding her that she had never needed to work, and that if she loved the both of you, she should let professionals handle the situation ? Believe them, when they would say that’s what they talked about at the restaurant, and that their look of love was captured when they thought of you home, and wished you were with them ?

They weren’t sure. The thought that you could decide to end it all, and you would be smart to do so, frightened them. When they finally went to bed, hands shaking and eyes wet, each one cuddling by your side, hoping this night would not be the last, you did not even wake up.

“Still not forgiven ?” Max pushed Charles’ shoulder softly, half teasing him, half genuinely concerned for his friend, even though he hated to admit it. He had moved away from the group of men having a drink in the shared garden of their building, and had been staring at the moon for too long for someone in a good mood.

“I don’t know… She keeps saying everything is fine, but it’s clearly not. Even when we told her of our meetings, she was like… she agreed with them ?” Charles turned to his friend, disbelief written all over his face. “Said they knew what they were talking about, that it was for the best. Keeps walking behind us in the street, encourages us to go out just us two, even refuses to hold Leo when there are fans ! Her own dog, Max !” Charles felt the arm of the taller man lay on his shoulder, and he rested his head in the embrace, sighing.

As he was about to turn for a full hug, he heard Carlos whistle from the table, and Daniel signed at them to get back and away from the hedges.

“Paps.” The Aussie simply said when they got back, pointing a finger at the light of a camera through the bushes. “What a waste of money living here if they still manage to get in.” Max groaned and started to pick up the bottles, inciting everyone to go back inside.

“What a pain those fuckers…” He grumbled, clearly annoyed to not be able to enjoy his evening out with friends without the sound of camera shutters ruining everything. “What fucking interest is there to our lives, go get one of your own or something for god’s sake…” Everyone agreed but still followed him to one of the shared inside spaces, frustration hanging heavy in the air.

As they settled around the pool table, anecdotes about obsessive fans and annoying paparazzis were shared, but Charles’ mind was drifting elsewhere. An idea had begun to take root, a small glimmer of hope for his relationship, to maybe get back his girlfriend, before sadness had taken over most of her. He chugged down the rest of his drink, and called for the attention of his friends.

“What if… what if we used the paps ? What if I said fuck you to Ferrari without dealing with the legal issues ?” A spark appeared in their eyes, and in their last sober decision, they called Alexandra to come down, all agreeing she would be their voice of reason.

Oblivious to it all, you were reading in bed when the gathering happened, and would never know of it.

Only a few days later was the plan put into action. Charles’ idea of using actual paparazzis was turned down by Alex, who reminded the boys of the consequences on their careers if anyone found out who made the call. Despite his drunken arguments of being ready to fuck it all for his girls, soundly supported by his friends, she had found a much safer solution.

When you stepped on the huge balcony, you felt tears come to your eyes, happy ones, for the first time in weeks. Your lovers had crafted a perfect romantic dinner for you, straight out of a movie. The table was laid out for three, candles lit up and rose petals everywhere on the ground. A bottle of expensive champagne was chilling in a bucket of ice, waiting to be popped podium-style, and Leo was waiting by the door with a little bow tie on his collar. You had missed being just the three of you, no waitress, no management, no friends, just a homemade dinner and loving looks.

So when they took you in their arms, wrapping you in love and affection, peppering your skin with kisses and sweet compliments, you simply gave in without a care for anything else. You hugged and kissed until you had no breath left, and let them treat you, for you had deserved it.

Yet the whole time, unbeknownst to you, Daniel and Max had been stationed right under your balcony, hidden from view as they snapped pictures of the intimate scene unfolding. They did their best to capture every shared glance and affectionate touch, every kiss and hug that would make it impossible to deny the love shared between you. They had all warned paparazzis were roaming in the area the night before, which would make the whole thing even more believable for the PR teams. The secret mission was going to perfection, and when you retreated indoors with a seductive wink to your partners, Charles and Alexandra gave a subtle thumbs up to the boys to signal the end of the work for tonight.

As you awoke to the gentle rays of sunlight through the curtains you had not closed well last night, a sense of peace came over you for the first time in a while. Yesterday’s romantic dinner, and night, was still fresh in your mind and body, and you smiled when greeted with your lovers’ sleeping faces when you turned in the bed. Reaching as quietly as possible for your phone, your soft morning suddenly turned to hell as you saw hundreds of notifications and missed calls appear on the lock screen.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you scrolled them all. Missed calls from Ferrari. Messages from long lost friends. And obviously, dozens and dozens of pictures plastered across every gossip account related to Formula 1. It seemed an anonymous account had taken and posted pictures of your very private dinner during the night, and then disappeared, right after the pictures had been reposted everywhere.

With trembling hands, you turned to look at Charles and Alexandra, still sleeping peacefully by your side. Instead of finding solace in their presence, a wave of dread washed over you, the fear of losing everything you held dear threatening to consume you whole. Would this be the breaking point for them ? Would Ferrari ask you to move out ? Would they all lie, deny completely your existence ?

The sound of Leo’s plaintive cries echoed through the room, snapping your partners from their slumber. They came even closer to you, filled with concern as your breathing got more and more erratic, tears streaming down your face. They took turns kissing away your tears and whispering words of comfort until you managed to give them your phone, as well as theirs. You tried regulating your breathing as they scrolled, and sat down, expecting a tough conversation straight after.

Alex simply threw her phone away after not even two minutes of screen time, coming back to lay her head on your chest and faking purring. Charles sighed, and opened the camera of his phone. Had they asked him to make an apology video ? He turned the camera to Leo, and added his hand to where Alex’s fingers were already intertwined with yours. Snapping a pic of the small dog with your three hands next to him, he immediately posted it on his story on Instagram, which he had apparently gotten back the login details for, with the caption “Family 4️⃣❤️”.

“About time it was out officially, right love ?” Charles stroked your cheek lovingly while your girlfriend hummed in agreement, nuzzling closer to you. “I was thinking your red dress for the event next week, and we could get me a new suit but” He kept rambling on, his phone buzzing non stop on his side table, head in the crook of your neck. Too stunned to speak, you simply laid back in the bed and let him talk your ear off. It wasn’t over then ?

By the time of the next Lec event, you were sure it was far from over. Alex was holding your hand, and you had gotten matching nails the day before. Charles had insisted you were the only one to wear red tonight, and he kept you as close as physically possible, one hand always on your waist. The little pup struggled to find his place in all this affection, but you made sure to keep him in your arms whenever he needed comfort, and otherwise refused to give the leash to anyone else. When Charles’ agent came to warn you there would be trouble, Alex stepped in front of you with the look of defiance you had always loved, and simply told him “With all due respect, fuck off.” Charles shrugged, saying this wasn’t a Ferrari event anyway, and smiled as he took you two away.

You finally stood tall and proud, at peace and at home. The party was quite private, you were mostly surrounded by friends and well-wishers, and one in particular came to greet you with the biggest smile on his face.

“As pretty as ever querida !” Carlos took you in his arms, and gave a small pet to Leo’s head. He congratulated you, and gesturing to the PR team seemingly having a breakdown in the corner of a room, he chuckled. “The only thing I won’t miss at Ferrari is their shitty strategy.” He winked at you before going back to the buffet, not without a last word “It’s clear the only happy family they should advertise is you three, with how they’re looking at you.”

You turned back to meet their eyes. Charles raised his glass to you, and Alex’s smile was brighter than the neon lights. You felt filled with pride, love, a sense of validation like no other. You thought of your mother, of her warm embrace and comforting words. You hoped she would see the pictures of tonight. You hoped she knew you had a home away from home in them. And so you ran to them, and laughed until your cheeks hurt, and danced until the lights went out, and promised to love until the very last star in the sky burnt out.

[requiemforthepoets]

it’s you that i’ve been waiting for, all of my life ⟢ LN4

final part of the crazy rich asians au ⟢ part one part two

PAIRINGS: lando norris x asian!female!reader

SUMMARY: with a lot of your family and friends are either getting engaged or married, it made you think about a lot of things—well, mostly marriage.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: non-use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, traditional family, asian culture & tradition, food, crazy rich asians inspired + plot, heiress reader, named characters (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), social status, high society, mentions of marriage, reader having a wedding fever, fluff, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 9.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: finallyyyy, this is the last part of my crazy rich asians au. the rest of the updates for this series is already smaus—which will be updated sporadically. to all that read, commented, and reblogged, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. tbh, i wasn’t even sure/confident with this three part series bc it was literally my first time writing this kind of fic, so thank you so much. as always, your reblogs/comments are highly appreciated, and i hope that you’ll enjoy this last part! also, happy new year, guys! 🥺❤️

You and Lando had just finished settling into your hotel, when your phone buzzed with an incoming facetime call from Nick. Surprised but not entirely shocked by his timing, you answered the call and held your phone up as you sat on the edge of the bed. Nick’s face appeared on the screen, expression tense and unusually serious.

“Hey, is Rachel with you right now?” he asked without preamble, tone laced with urgency.

You frowned, confused by the question. “No, she’s not,” you replied, glancing at Lando, who was sitting on the edge of the bef watching your conversation. “Lando and I already left Singapore earlier, we’re in Malaysia right now. Why? Is everything okay?”

Nick ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily before diving into the whole explanation. He told you and Lando about how your Auntie Eleanor had hired a private investigator to dig into Rachel’s background. Your stomach sank as he laid it all out—the dossier that your Auntie Eleanor had compiled, which included several Chinese news articles and missing person reports with Rachel’s mother’s photo. All these revelations had been shared with your Ah Ma at the wedding reception, and things had escalated from there.

You can slightly hear Nick’s voice trembling as he recounted how your Ah Ma had become mad and forbid Rachel from continuing her relationship with him, declaring that Rachel’s family background poses a threat to your family’s reputation. The words made your chest tighten, and you felt a mix of anger and sadness bubbling inside of you. Then it all started to make sense now—Rachel’s disoriented state, the way she fled from the reception without looking back.

“Wait,” you interjected, still processing everything. “Ah ma was at Colin and Minty’s wedding? I didn’t even see her, she rarely goes to events like that unless her presence is absolutely necessary.”

Nick nodded, confirming your thoughts. “She was there. It wasn’t planned for her to come, but I think Mom had managed to convince her.”

You sighed. “Well, that explained a lot. No wonder Rachel was running off like that, she must’ve been completely blindsided.”

He paused before continuing. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of her, but she’s not answering my calls or texts. I just—” he trailed off, his frustration evident.

Thinking quickly, you remembered something Rachel had mentioned in passing. “Maybe she’s staying at her best friend’s house? She told me once that she has a close friend in Singapore.”

Nick’s eyes lit up slightly. “That's a possibility. I’ll try to find out where her friend lives.”

“Do you need me to come back?” you asked, words spilling out before you could second-guess them. “Lan and I can fly back to Singapore tonight if you think it’ll help.” you glanced at Lando, who nodded in silent agreement.

He shook his head quickly. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I think I can handle it for now. But if Rachel answers your texts or calls, can you let me know right away?”

“Of course,” you said firmly. “I’ll text her again and keep you updated.”

“Thanks,” Nick said with a small, grateful smile.

“But hey, listen,” you said carefully, “if you find Rachel—in which I know that you will, you have to give her some time. Don’t push her, and don’t force anything.”

Nick was quiet on the other end, so you took it as a queue to continue. “She’s been blindsided, completely blindsided by all of it. Think about it, the information that Auntie Eleanor dumped on her, how it was thrown at her, none of it was easy for her to process. She didn’t even see it coming, and honestly, no one would’ve been ready for something like that.”

“I know,” Nick murmured. “But I just want to fix it. I want her to know that none of this changes how I feel about her.”

“I know you do,” you said gently. “But right now, Rachel needs space to process everything. Imagine if you’re in her shoes—finding out things about your family’s past in such a public and humiliating way. That kind of betrayal isn’t easy to shake off, especially when it comes out of nowhere.”

You paused, choosing your words carefully. “You have to be patient with her, Nick. Let her come to you when she’s ready. If you try to force her to talk or rush through it, it might just push her further away.”

There was another silence, then a resigned sigh from Nick. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I hate it, but you’re right. I just feel so useless sitting here, doing nothing.”

“Nicky, you’re not doing nothing,” you assured him. “The best thing you can do right now is respect her boundaries and be ready when she’s ready. Let her know you’re there, but don’t overwhelm her, and Nick…” you trailed off.

You briefly hesitated before adding, “Rachel was thrown into a pit of wolves. Our family, for all its grandeur and well, admit it or not, can be really cruel. She wasn’t prepared for it, but that’s not on her—it’s completely on us, and if you love her, you’ll help her navigate through it when she finally comes around.”

Nick’s voice softened. “I do love her, more than anything.”

“This might sound very cliché, but trust the process,” you said. “She’ll come back to you when she’s ready, and when she does, you’ll be there for her.”

“Thanks again,” he said quietly. “I really needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” you replied. “Just keep me updated, okay? Don’t lose hope.”

“I won’t,” Nick promised.

“Alright, take care.” you said before ending the call.

As the screen went dark, you tossed your phone onto the bed with a sigh, staring at the ceiling in frustration. Your call to Rachel had gone straight to voicemail, and though you had sent her a message, you couldn’t shake the knot of worry in your chest. Flopping down beside your phone, you exhaled deeply. The fact that your Auntie Eleanor had gone so far as to hiring a private investigator made your blood boil. It was not just meddling—it felt invasive and cruel.

“Why?” you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair. “Why did she have to go that far?”

Lando glanced over you from where he was sitting, watching you silently for a moment before he laid down beside you on the bed.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just…Auntie Eleanor. Why would she do something like that? Nick and Rachel were happy, and Ah Ma already liked Rachel, so why did she have to ruin it all? What does it even accomplish?” your voice wavered slightly as you spoke, your emotions bubbling to the surface.

Lando listened patiently, letting you vent. When you paused, he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I get it,” he said gently. “It’s frustrating, and it’s not fair to Rachel. But you know Nick, he’s not going to give up on her just because of this. They’ll figure it out eventually.”

You looked at him, brows furrowed. “But what if they don’t? What if this just ruins everything?”

“It won’t,” he said firmly. “They’ve come this far, haven’t they? Something like this might take time to work through, but if they’re meant to be, they’ll find their way back to each other. You’ve got to believe in that.”

His words were calming, and you found yourself nodding slowly. “You’re right,” you said, though the knot in your chest didn’t fully loosen. “I just want them to have the happy ending they deserve.”

“And they will,” Lando assured you with a small smile. “But right now, you’ve got to focus on what you can control. We’re in Malaysia, come on, let’s enjoy our time. Relax, and take a breather from all the chaos back in Singapore.”

You gave Lando a weak smile, appreciating his efforts to make everything better. “Yeah, you’re right. We should make the most of it while we’re here.” pushing yourself off the bed, you glanced towards your suitcase. “We’ve got dinner plans later, don’t we?”

Lando grinned, standing up and holding out his hand to help you. “We do. Let’s go have a great night.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet, and smiled at him. “Alright.”

The first day in Malaysia began early, with the rising sun casting a soft golden glow as you and Lando set off for George Town in Penang. The drive was long, roughly about four hours from Kuala Lumpur, where you’re staying, but the journey was as much a part of the adventure as the destination. Lando was behind the wheel, where one of his hands was steady on the wheel, and his other free hand was laced on your fingers. His eyes occasionally darted towards you while you admired the scenery as you passed by.

“So,” he started, glancing at you with a teasing smile, “are you going to be my personal tour guide for the day?”

You grinned, looking at him. “Of course.”

When you arrived, George Town immediately swept you off of your feet. The streets were alive with so much color and culture, with the British colonial buildings standing gracefully alongside vibrant Chinese shophouses and intricate mosques. The air smelled of spices and street food, and the chatter of locals filled the space with a sense of warmth and energy.

“Look at that one,” he said, pulling you gently toward a painting of a little boy riding a bicycle. “We have to take a photo here.”

Lando pulled out his camera and posed next to the mural, with a wide grin on his face. “Your turn, come on,” he said after snapping his photo, motioning for you to take his place. “Hold on,” he gestured for you to pose in front of the mural. You rolled your eyes playfully but obliged to his request, striking a simple pose.

“Perfect,” he said as he snapped the photo before lowering the camera. “Though the real thing’s better than the photo,” he added cheekily, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Smooth,” you teased, shaking your head but smiling nonetheless.

You wandered through the streets hand in hand, occasionally stopping every so often to admire the architecture of the small shops selling everything ranging from antiques to handmade crafts. At one point, Lando pulled you into a quiet alley where a local artist was painting a new mural. He tilted his head, examining the work.

“Think I could pull something like this off?” he joked, referring to the mural’s intricate design.

“Absolutely not,” you replied, laughing. “But I’d pay good money to watch you try.”

The day would not have been complete without food. You introduced Lando to char kway teow, a flavorful stir-fried noodle dish. He took his first bite, his expression shifting from curiosity to delight.

“Okay, this is incredible,” he said, nodding enthusiastically as he went for another bite.

“You have a good taste,” you replied, stealing a noodle from his plate.

“You mean you have a good taste,” he corrected.

The day continued like that—strolling, laughing, stealing kisses, and taking photos. Every corner of George Town seemed to hold a story, and every moment felt like it was just for the two of you.

As the sun began to set, the sky turned a warm orange, and Lando snapped one final photo. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget today,” he said softly, looking at you instead of the view.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Me neither.”

The second day began with the sun streaming through your window, casting a warm glow over the start of what you knew would be an unforgettable day. After breakfast, you and Lando set off for Paradise 101 in Langkawi, a private island that promised a perfect blend of adventure and relaxation, and just an hour away.

As soon as you stepped onto the island, the soft sound of the waves lapping against the shore and the salty breeze filled your senses. Lando reached out for your hand, giving it a light squeeze he looked out at the clear blue sky.

“Ready for some adventure?” he asked with a contagious smile.

“Always,” you replied, already feeling the excitement bubbling up.

The first activity on the list was parasailing, something you had always wanted to try. Strapped into the harness side by side, the instructor began counting down, and then, the boat picked up speed, lifting you and Lando off the ground, soaring above the waters. The world below looks so tiny, and the ocean stretches endlessly beneath your feet.

“This is insane!” Lando shouted over the wind.

You turned your head to look at him, his expression lit up with excitement. “Right? Look at that amazing view!” you replied, pointing towards the horizon where the ocean met the sky.

“Look something out of the painting,” then glancing at you, there was a mischievous glint in Lando’s eyes. “Though the view isn’t half as good as the one next to me.”

You laughed, swatting at him lightly. “You’re such a cheeky little shit.”

When your feet touched the sand again, Lando was already pulling you toward the ziplining station. The zipline took you across the island’s canopy, and each time you landed, Lando was there waiting, stealing quick kisses before moving to the next line.

“Race you to the bottom,” Lando challenged, a mischievous smile lighting up his face.

“Oh, you’re on,” you replied, determined.

As the two of you zipped down, the wind whipping past, the sound of your laughter had filled the air. Lando had beaten you to the bottom, of course, but he immediately pulled you into a hug when you joined him, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

The afternoon was reserved for a private yacht cruise, just the two of you. As the boat glided through the calm waters of Langkawi’s northern coast, you couldn’t help but marvel at the picturesque coastline, with the emerald-green water shimmering under the sun.

“Perfect, isn’t it?” Lando asked, leaning back beside you, his sunglasses perched on his nose.

“Perfect,” you agreed, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his.

“You know,” he began, “we should bring the others here sometimes. They’d love this.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you replied, looking at him. “Though I kind of like it being just us right now.”

“Me too,” he said, voice soft, brushing a kiss on your forehead.

You decided to give kayaking a try, but knowing Lando, it probably would be a chaotic one. “You’re paddling the wrong way, babe!” you exclaimed as Lando’s oar splashed water everywhere. “Are you sure you know how to paddle?”

“Of course I do!” he argued.

Lando was just kept on paddling in circles, the kayak even refused to cooperate—or so he claimed.

“Babe! You’re just steering us into circles. You’re doing it wrong!” you called out, grinning mischievously.

“I’m not—hold on, are you gaslighting me right now?” he accused, realizing your game.

“I would never!” you said, feigning innocence.

Lando almost toppled over the kayak trying to adjust, and you couldn’t contain your laughter. But eventually, you found your rhythm, paddling side by side through the tranquil waters.

“Okay, maybe this teamwork thing isn’t so bad after all,” he admitted, voice softer now.

“You think?” you teased, glancing at him with a smile.

The highlight of the day came with the private UNESCO Geopark mangrove cruise. You and Lando had been transferred to a small explorer boat, where you were taken through a landscape that felt almost otherworldly. Sheer limestone cliffs rose majestically from the water, their forms resembling ancient temples.

“This is incredible,” Lando murmured, voice tinged with awe as he leaned over the side of the boat.

You nodded, eyes fixed on the towering cliffs. “It feels like we’ve stepped into another world.”

The guide led you through the Tanjung Rhu River, Kisap River, and Kilim River, each stretch offering breathtaking views. At one point, you visited a fish farm and even ventured into the crocodile and bat cave, marveling at the natural formations.

When the cruise ended, the day slowly gave way to evening, and you returned to the resort. Lando had made a reservation for an outdoor dinner at the resort’s restaurant, with the table set against the backdrop of the sparkling Andaman Sea.

You were sitting right across from Lando, the soft glow of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink. “Today was really perfect,” you said, voice warm.

Lando reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “Well, that’s because I spent it with you.”

“To more days like this,” you said, raising your glass with your free hand.

“To more days with you,” Lando replied, raising his glass as well.

The waves whispered against the shore as you clink your glasses together, ending the amazing fun filled day in the most serene and beautiful way imaginable.

On the third day, which is your last day in Malaysia, felt like the perfect opportunity to slow down and enjoy a more relaxed pace with Lando. After having your breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant, you decided to explore Kuala Lumpur together and do some shopping, mostly picking out Christmas gifts for family and friends. Your first stop was Cartier, where the staff immediately recognized you and Lando as you entered the boutique.

“Welcome back,” one of them greeted warmly. “Please, follow us to the VIP room.”

The room was elegant and private, with plush seating and pristine glass displays showcasing Cartier’s finest collections. You scanned the displays carefully, selecting gifts that felt personal and meaningful. From time to time, you would turn to Lando for his opinion, holding a piece to show it to him.

“What do you think of this one, love?” you asked, turning a bracelet in your hands.

Lando leaned in to get a closer look, studying it for a brief moment. “It’s nice, but maybe this design suits them better,” he suggested, pointing to another piece that has more classic finish to it.

His input was reassuring, and you found yourself smiling more with every choice you made. So piece by piece, you finalized your selections and decided to have each of it engraved with the names. While the staff began the engraving process, you took the opportunity to explore the display cases further.

Your eyes fell on the iconic Love rings, their sleek designs catching the light. The delicate design, with its understated elegance and signature screw motif had drawn you in immediately. You paused, gazing at them a little longer than you had intended. They were very stunning, and the thought of having matching ones with Lando crept into your mind.

For a moment, you let your mind wander. The thought of having matching Love rings with Lando made your heart flutter. It would be such a sweet symbol of your relationship, a quiet nod to the love you shared. But as quickly as the thought came, doubt crept in. Would he even want to wear something like that? You had only been together for a year, and while your relationship felt deep and serious, you weren’t even sure if he’d see it the same way.

“Miss?” the associate’s voice gently pulled you back to the present. “The items have been engraved and wrapped. Would you like us to send them directly to your hotel?”

You smiled, nodding. “Yes, please. That would be perfect. We still have some plans for the day.”

The associate assured you that everything would be taken care of. You thanked them again and turned to Lando, who was casually leaning against the counter, watching you with an easy smile. What you didn’t realize was that he had caught the way your gaze lingered on the Love rings earlier. But he decided not to say anything, only offering you his hand as the two of you prepared to leave.

“Ready to go?” he asked, voice gentle.

“Yes, let’s go,” you replied, sliding your hand into his.

As you both left the store hand in hand, the shopping bags destined for your hotel, Lando’s mind was already working, his thoughts drifting back to the love rings and making a mental note.

Finally, Dior was your final stop, and as you stepped into the elegantly designed VIP room, the ambiance felt as refined and luxurious as always. The staff greeted you warmly, offering refreshments and giving you a moment to settle in before showing you all of the latest collections.

You browsed through the items thoughtfully, then occasionally turning to Lando for his input, yet again, on potential gifts and personal picks. He followed you closely, hands tucked casually in his pockets, his easy demeanor adding a comfortable balance.

As you admired a pair of beautiful heels, Lando leaned in slightly, tone light but teasing. “You know your luggage is already packed to the brim, right?”

You paused mid-reach, blinking at him as his words sank in. “Wait…really?”

He nodded, trying to suppress a grin. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’d have to sit on it just to zip it up.”

With the sudden realization, you glanced back at the shelves, and you turned to the sales associate with a smile. “Do you have any luggage available in stock?”

The associate’s face lit up. “We do, actually! Let me bring it out for you.”

As the associate disappeared into the back, Lando let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Only you would come shopping for gifts and leave with luggage to carry it all.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging his arm. “Well, if you’re going to go shopping, might as well do it properly.”

The associate soon returned, rolling out a sleek Dior luggage piece in a design you hadn’t seen before that caught your attention immediately. Its understated design and impeccable craftsmanship stood out, and you took a moment to examine it closely.

“This is perfect,” you said decisively, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “I’ll take it. I don’t have one in this design yet, so it’ll be a great addition.”

Lando chuckled softly beside you as you made your way to the counter. When the associate had totaled the purchase, he casually pulled out his black card and handed it over, placing it on the counter.

“Here, I’ve got this,” he said smoothly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small grin.

“No,” you reached into your bag without hesitation, pulling out your own black card and handing it to the associate directly. “I’m paying for this, please. It’s my shopping.”

The associate glanced between the two of you, clearly confused and trying to decide whose card to take. You were sure that the associate would take your card, so you focused briefly on a nearby display of handbags, thinking which designs might fit into your collection. While you were distracted, Lando seized the opportunity.

“Swipe it on mine,” he said quietly, giving the associate a quick, reassuring nod.

By the time you turned your attention back, the transaction was already complete, and the staff were carefully packing the luggage and other items into Dior’s signature paper bags.

“What just happened?” you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly as Lando smiles cheekily at you.

“Nothing, babe,” he replied, tone far too innocent to be convincing. “Just making sure you’re not overworking your card today.”

You sighed, half-exasperated but mostly amused. “You’re impossible.”

“Just making sure your new luggage is properly christened,” he teased.

Shaking your head with a small smile, you turned back to the associate and asked, “would it be possible to have everything be delivered to our hotel? We’ve got a dinner reservation coming up, and it would be easier if we didn’t have to carry all this.”

“Of course, Miss,” they replied, nodding. “We’ll ensure everything is delivered promptly.”

“Thank you,” you said warmly before turning back to Lando. “Ready to go?”

Lando placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the exit. “Let’s go.”

By the time you stepped out of Dior, the soft glow of dusk had already begun to settle over the city, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The streets were alive with the hum of evening traffic, but your thoughts were focused on the dinner reservation at Akar Dining.

The drive to the restaurant was peaceful, with Lando’s hand resting on your thigh as the car navigated the streets. You arrived just in time, the warm ambiance of the restaurant immediately wrapping around you as you stepped inside, the host greeted you and guided you to your table. Lando, ever the gentleman, pulled out your chair, his hand lingering briefly on the back of it as you sat down.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a small smile, adjusting the hem of your dress as you settled in.

Lando took his seat across from you just as a waiter approached your table with the menus. The dimly lit atmosphere, paired with the sophisticated decor had made the evening feel intimate and special. As you scanned the menu, your eyes immediately caught a few dishes you knew you would enjoy, while Lando appeared slightly less certain.

“So, what are you thinking of getting?” you asked, glancing up from your menu to find him frowning slightly.

“Honestly?” he set the menu down for a moment, leaning back in his chair. “Most of these seafood dishes aren’t really my thing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “It’s fine, just pick something else. You don’t have to love everything on the menu.”

Eventually, he decided on the braised aged duck, and you ordered a seafood dish that intrigued you. As you waited for the food, you took a sip of your water, your gaze lingering on Lando. The memory of what happened at Dior earlier was still fresh in your mind, and you decided to address it.

“By the way,” you began, setting your glass down. “Thank you for paying earlier at Dior, but you really didn’t have to, Lan.”

Lando shrugged casually, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Of course I did. You shouldn’t have to pay for something when I’m right here.”

You sighed lightly, tilting your head at him. “Lan, I can pay for my own things. I don’t want to rely on you all the time, especially when it’s my shopping.”

“I know you can,” he replied, tone soft but firm. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to. It’s not about whether you can afford it—it’s about me wanting to take care of you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a playful grin. “And before you argue, I’m not budging on this.”

“Well, if you’re so insistent on paying for everything,” you said, leaning forward slightly, “then at least let me pay for dinner tonight.”

“Not happening, love,” he said simply, leaning back in his chair with an air of finality.

“Lando,” you started, but the waiter returned just then with your food, momentarily halting the conversation.

As you both began to eat, you couldn’t help but glance at him occasionally, trying to come up with a way to outmaneuver him when the bill comes. Lando seemed thoroughly engrossed in his braised aged duck, nodding approvingly after the first few bites.

“This is actually really good,” he remarked, gesturing to his plate with his fork.

“It was worth the try,” you said with a satisfied smile, enjoying your own meal.

When the plates were cleared, the waiter had returned with the bill, and you reached for it instinctively, smiling as you’re about to get a hand on it, but to your dismay, Lando was faster. He snatched it from the waiter’s hand with a smoothness that left you momentarily stunned, his card already out and ready. Without a word, he placed it on the bill and handed it back to the waiter before you could even blink.

“Lando Norris!” you hissed, voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “I told you I was paying for dinner.”

“And I told you that you’re not,” he replied, tone calm and unbothered.

You stared at him, incredulous. “You can’t keep doing this. I have my own money, you know. I don’t need you to pay for everything, my love.”

“I know you don’t,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “But I wanted to. A gentleman never let his woman pay. End of story.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted gently, gaze soft but resolute. “I know that you’re independent, and I love that about you. But letting me take care of you every now and then doesn’t make you any less independent.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “At some point, you have to let me pay too. I don’t want to feel like I’m relying on you for everything.”

“I get that. But tonight isn’t the point,” he said, as his thumb gently caressed your knuckles and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “Letting me take care of you once in a while doesn’t mean you’re relying on me. It just means that I love you.”

Your heart softened at his words, the sincerity in his voice melting away your objections. “Fine,” you murmured, though a playful edge crept into your tone. “But one day, you’re letting me pay for something. Mark my words.”

Lando chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a wide grin. “We’ll see about that.”

After an amazing dinner, you were finally back in your hotel. The moment you stepped inside the room, the exhaustion from the day’s adventures hit you like a wave. You slipped off your sandals with a sigh of relief, placed your bag on the vanity, and immediately collapsed onto the plush bed, letting the softness swallow you whole. Lando was not far behind, shutting the door with a soft click before walking over to where you lay sprawled out. He chuckled as he kicked off his sneakers, tossing them aside without any care.

“You look absolutely done,” he teased, voice laced with affection.

Without another word, he climbed onto the bed beside you, his arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close. You didn’t protest, in fact, you just melted into his embrace—his warmth and familiar scent of his cologne instantly soothing your tired muscles.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you murmured lazily, though you made no effort to move. “We still need to pack for tomorrow. I need to arrange the things we bought today inside the new luggage.”

Lando nuzzled his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Mhmm…packing can wait.” he said as he kissed your collarbone. “I just want to stay like this for a bit. It’s been such a good trip.”

You smiled faintly, tilting your head slightly to rest against his. “It really has. I think this was exactly what we needed, huh? Just us, no distractions.”

“Uh huh. No meetings, no interruptions…” Lando added with a sigh, tightening his hold on you. “I wish we could stay longer. Feels like I’ve barely scratched the surface here.”

You laughed softly. “You’re the one who extended our stay by an extra day. If we keep this up, we might not even make it to the UK in time for Christmas.”

He groaned dramatically, pulling you even closer. “Fine, you win. We’ll leave tomorrow, but I’m telling you, we’re coming back here next year.”

“Alright,” you replied, voice muffle as you buried your face in his chest.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke, content to lie tangled in each other’s arms as the city lights outside cast a faint glow into the hotel room.

“Okay, okay,” you finally said, breaking the peaceful silence. “We really need to pack, babe. I’m not about to start throwing things into a suitcase at five in the morning.”

He groaned again but rolled over, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “How about I do the packing, and you stay here looking all pretty?”

“Absolutely not,” you replied, swatting his arm lightly. “If you pack, I’ll end up with half my things missing and thrown with wrinkles.”

Lando laughed, sitting up and pulling you up with him. “Alright, fine. Let’s get it over with, but you owe me cuddles afterwards.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you slid off of the bed. “Deal. Now, let’s get moving before you start whining again.”

He grinned, grabbing his suitcase and tossing it onto the bed with enthusiasm. “You know me so very well.”

As you were neatly folding a dress and placing it neatly in your suitcase, your phone rang, cutting through the quiet hum of activity in the hotel room. You glanced at the screen and saw Nick’s caller ID flashing. Your eyes immediately widened, and your stomach sank slightly—you had completely pushed aside the chaos from earlier in Singapore.

“Nicky,” you murmured, picking up the phone and quickly answering. Lando glanced up from his own packing, curious.

The moment the call connected, Nick’s face filled your screen, grinning from ear to ear. Before you could say anything, he shouted out, “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”

Your jaw dropped, and your heart leapt. “WHAT?!” you screamed, startling Lando, who immediately moved closer to check. “Oh my god! Nicky, are you serious?!”

Nick nodded excitedly, his smile growing wider. “Yes! I proposed to Rachel earlier, and she said yes! We’re getting married!”

A loud scream of happiness escaped you, and grabbed both Lando’s hands and jumped up and down, causing Lando to follow your lead, with you chanting ‘Nick and Rachel are getting married’ a couple of times. Both of you jumping like you’re in a cult, chanting to summon something.

“Nicky, this is amazing news! I’m so happy for you and Rachel! Oh my god, I’m going to cry!” you said, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

Lando laughed and leaned into the frame, resting a hand on your waist. “Congratulations, mate! That’s incredible news!”

“Thanks, man!” Nick said, grinning even wider. He turned back to you, clearly eager to share more details. “Mom finally came around, and she gave me the emerald ring to propose with. I actually chased Rachel to the airport, it turns out she was about to leave, already inside the plane and I just dropped on one knee and proposed to her. You should’ve seen Rachel’s face when I pulled out the ring, she was so shocked.”

You clutched your chest dramatically. “Nick, that’s so beautiful. I’m so, so happy for you both.”

Nick chuckled, his excitement very evident. “But wait, there’s more. I’m throwing a surprise engagement party for Rachel tomorrow night, and I need you both there. Please say you can come.”

You glanced over at Lando, your eyes silently asking if he was okay with changing plans. Lando, ever the supportive boyfriend that he is, nodded without any hesitation.

“We’re both in,” you said to Nick. “We’ll fly back to Singapore tomorrow.”

Nick let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you! I can’t wait to see you both, and don’t worry, it won’t be a massive party, just a small gathering of close friends and family.”

“We will not miss it,” you assured him. “But just so you know, we’ll have to leave right after the party. We’re expected in the UK before Christmas.”

“Fair enough,” Nick said, still beaming. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow then, and thank you, both of you, for being there for us.”

“Of course,” you replied, voice soft with emotion. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

After ending the call, you turned to Lando, who was smiling at your obvious joy. “Looks like we’re making another detour,” you said with a laugh.

“Well, wouldn’t have it any other way,” Lando replied, pulling you into a quick hug before returning to his packing.

The flight from Malaysia to Singapore passed quickly, only an hour long. You and Lando had decided to leave in the afternoon to allow yourselves some extra time to relax before the engagement party. By the time the private jet touched down at a private tarmac in Changi Airport, the sky had shifted to a warm, dusky hue.

You were already dressed for the event, adjusting the hem of your dress as you prepared to disembark. Your outfit for tonight complimented Lando’s outfit perfectly, a choice you both had coordinated without much effort. Deciding not to take your belongings off of the jet since you would be leaving Singapore immediately after the party. Taking one final glance at the jet’s sleek interior, you then stepped out.

Lando walked beside you, his hand firmly holding yours as he guided you down the steps of the jet. The heels you wore, though elegant, weren’t exactly forgiving, and his grip gave you the balance you needed. Once you reached the car waiting on the tarmac, he moved ahead, opening the door for you.

“Careful, love,” he murmured, holding out a hand to help you inside.

You gave Lando a small smile as you slid into the seat, careful not to wrinkle your dress. He followed right after, shutting the car door behind him. The soft hum of the car engine filled up the space as the vehicle pulled away, heading towards Marina Bay Sands. You then leaned into Lando slightly.

“You know,” Lando began with a playful smirk, “I think we’ve spent more time in Singapore lately than in Monaco.”

You laughed softly. “Tell me about it. It looks like we’ll be back here again sooner rather than later for Nick and Rachel’s wedding.”

He tilted his head in mock resignation. “I guess I’d better get used to the humidity then.”

“Oh come on,” you gave him a teasing nudge. “You’ve survived it so far. Besides, you look so good here, very tropical chic.”

Lando chuckled, resting his hand on yours. “Thanks, love. But seriously, it feels like everyone’s getting married or engaged all of a sudden. What’s with the December air.”

You sighed dramatically. “Tell me about it. First Colin and Minty, now Nick and Rachel, also don’t forget about my friend from Parsons! She’s getting married in Moscow next year and has already sent in the invitation.”

“Moscow, huh?” he mused. “Another flight for us?”

You glanced at him with a small smile. “If you want to come with me, that is. I don’t want to pressure you into attending all these weddings, I know that it can be really tiring.”

Lando tilted his head, pretending to think it over. “Moscow, a wedding, and a chance to see you again in another dress? Sounds like a total dream, so it’s a yes for me.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging his arm. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love every bit of it,” he quipped, grinning.

As the car drove on, your thoughts began to drift. Weddings, engagements, proposals—it seemed like everyone around you was taking those big steps. You didn’t want to admit it, but that idea of marriage had been creeping into your mind more and more lately. It was not something you wanted to bring up, not yet, but still, it is a topic that had been occupying your mind.

You shook off the feeling, focusing instead on the city lights beginning to twinkle outside the car window. “Yeah, and I think that we’re going to need a bigger calendar,” you joked.

Lando laughed, resting a hand on your knee. “As long as you’re on it, I don’t mind.”

The car rolled to a smooth stop at the grand entrance of Marina Bay Sands, with the city lights reflecting off the sleek glass facade. The chauffeur had exited first, circling around to open your door, and before you could step out, Lando was already at your side, extending a hand to help you out of the car.

“I’ll be here at the agreed time to take you back to the airport, ma’am.” the chauffeur said as he tipped his hat.

“Thank you,” you replied with a polite smile.

Lando intertwined your hands, and you both began walking towards the entrance. The evening air was warm, and the energy surrounding the iconic building was palpable. A few people by the lobby immediately recognized Lando, and their eyes widened when they noticed you by his side.

“Excuse me,” a young woman asked hesitantly, clutching her phone. “Would it be alright if I can get a quick photo with you both?”

Lando exchanged glances with you and nodded warmly. “Of course, just a quick one.”

You stepped aside with him, pausing for a few photos, each person thanking you both profusely afterwards. Once the small crowd dispersed, you and Lando resumed your walk, making your way to the elevators that would take you to the sky deck. The elevator ride was smooth and swift, and when the doors opened, the familiar faces of your family, Nick’s closest friends, and your cousins scattered throughout the beautifully decorated space.

As your eyes scanned the crowd, you spotted your mother first. She stood near one of the seating areas, speaking animatedly with one of your aunts. You guided Lando over, and her expression shifted to surprise the moment she saw you both.

“Darling!” your mother exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Hi, Mom,” you greeted, smiling warmly before stepping aside so Lando could greet her.

Your mother opened her arms invitingly. “Lando, come here.”

Lando hugged her briefly but warmly, a soft laugh escaping him. “Hello, Auntie. It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” your mother replied, taking a step back to look at you both. “I thought you’d already be in the UK by now.” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“We were supposed to leave after the day after the wedding,” you explained, “but we decided to make a quick stop in Malaysia for a few days. Then Nicky called last night and asked us to come, so here we are.”

She smiled knowingly. “Always the supportive cousin. But you’re leaving tonight?”

“Yes, the jet is on standby at the airport,” you confirmed. “We’ll head straight there after the party.”

Your mother nodded in satisfaction, and gave Lando a pat on the shoulder. “Well, you enjoy yourselves tonight. It’s a rare sight to see you two so relaxed.”

You and Lando exchanged a small smile before moving on to greet Colin and Araminta, who were just chatting near the champagne table.

“Hey!” Colin greeted, giving you both a hug. “I didn’t think we’d see you two again so soon.”

“Neither did we,” you replied with a laugh. “But here we are.”

You turned to Araminta, who hugged you warmly, then stepped back, smiling brightly. “It’s so good to see you again, and Lando, of course! You’re becoming quite the fixture at family events!”

Lando grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Colin smirked. “At this rate, uncle’s going to give him the talk soon, if he hasn’t already. Then we all know whose wedding we’ll be attending soon after Nick and Rachel’s.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Too late, Dad already gave him the talk, and even Ah Ma had given her blessing.”

Lando grinned, playing along. “Proud to say that I’ve passed all the tests by now.”

Araminta gasped dramatically, nudging Colin. “See? It’s official now. We’ll start saving the date!”

The four of you exchanged pleasantries and some laughs for a few moments before your attention was drawn to a surprising sight. Standing by the bar were none other than Bernard and Kitty, a pair you had not expected to see here at all. You caught Lando’s eye, and he gave you a subtle shrug, clearly just as a surprise.

Shaking it off, you turned your focus back, making your way toward your aunts. Auntie Alix, Auntie Eleanor, and Auntie Jacqueline, who were all chatting in a tight circle. You approached with Lando by your side, greeting each of them in turn with a polite kiss on the cheek and a warm smile.

“Ah, you’re here!” your Auntie Alix smiled. “I thought you were in the UK already.”

“Nick called,” you explained with a smile, “so here we are.”

“Well, we’re glad you made it,” your Auntie Jacqueline chimed in, “and you’re glowing tonight.” she added, her gaze flitting between you and Lando.

“Must be the Malaysian sun,” Lando jokes, earning a soft laugh from the group.

Your Auntie Eleanor gave Lando a sharp but playful look. “You’re certainly making yourself comfortable with this family, aren’t you?”

Lando smiled politely. “I’m just trying to keep up,” satisfied with his answer, your Auntie Eleanor waved you off with a chuckle.

Nick and Rachel hadn’t arrived yet, so you and Lando decided to take the opportunity to mingle with other guests. The evening was lively, with laughter and champagne flowing freely.

Several guests had approached you and Lando for photos, and you obliged, posing with ease. Lando kept a hand on your lower back, guiding you smoothly through the crowd as you moved from one group to another.

From across the room, you noticed your cousin Oliver weaving his way through the crowd, a bright smile on his face as he head towards you. As he approached, you and Lando turned to greet him.

“Oliver!” you said warmly, pulling him into a quick hug.

“Hey you two,” he said, giving you both a smile before continuing. “I want to introduce you to Rachel’s best friend. She’s dying to meet you.”

Curious, you exchanged a glance with Lando before agreeing. “Of course! Lead the way.”

Following Oliver, you navigated through the elegantly dressed guests until you stopped in front of a small group of people.

“Here we are,” Oliver said, motioning toward a striking woman with a vibrant smile. “This is Rachel’s best friend, Goh Peik Lin.”

You extended your hand toward her. “Peik Lin, it’s so nice to meet you!”

Peik Lin shook your hand warmly. “And it’s so nice to meet you as well!”

Your gaze traveled briefly over her outfit, a beautifully tailored dress that exuded elegance and sophistication. “I have to say, your outfit is incredible. You have such impeccable taste.”

Her smile widened, excitement evident. “Oh stop, you’re going to make me blush! But thank you, it means a lot coming from someone as stylish as you.”

Oliver then turned to the older couple standing beside Peik Lin. “And these are Peik Lin’s parents, Goh Wye Mun and Goh Nenna.”

You offered a polite smile as you greeted them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Mr. and Mrs. Goh.”

Nenna’s eyes sparkled as she took your hand. “Just call us Auntie Nenna and Uncle Wye Mun! And my goodness, you’re even more gorgeous in person! I’ve seen photos of you, and they don’t do you justice! You’re very stunning, my dear!”

You laugh softly, feeling a light warmth rise to your cheeks. “You’re too kind, Auntie Nenna. Thank you so much.”

Then you turned to Wye Mun, whose expression shifted slightly as recognition dawned on him. He tilted his head, studying you for a moment.

“You’re one of Harrison Sr. and Elizabeth Young’s children, aren’t you? Their only daughter,” he said, tone a mixture of surprise and admiration.

You nodded, smiling. “That’s right. I’ve heard of your family before as well. If my memory serves me right, you’re the owner of Goh Developments, correct? One of Singapore’s most successful real estate companies?”

Wye Mun chuckled, clearly pleased. “Yes, that’s about right. I’m flattered you know about us.”

“Of course!” you said. “Your company’s work is extraordinary. Some of your developments are architectural masterpieces.”

The brief exchange shifted naturally into a short discussion about real estate, with Wye Mun enthusiastically sharing tidbits about recent projects. Peik Lin listened intently, Oliver and Lando conversing with each other, while Nenna just watched the whole conversation with a smile.

You then gestured towards Lando afterwards, who had been standing quietly beside you. “Allow me to introduce to you my boyfriend, Lando.”

Lando extended his hand towards Wye Mun, who shook it firmly. Wye Mun’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah, Lando Norris! I watched you win the Singapore GP last September. Quite an incredible race, I must say. You’ve got some serious talent.”

“Thank you so much,” Lando said with a polite smile. “It was an unforgettable race for sure.”

“And I didn’t know that you were dating the darling of the Singaporean social elite!” Wye Mun added with a playful tone, eyes twinkling.

“Oh Wye Mun, look at them!” Nenna interjected, her gaze moving between you and Lando. “They look so good together, a very beautiful couple. Perfect match!”

Wye Mun nodded in agreement, tone light. “Quite the power couple, I’d say.”

You couldn’t help but smile at their comment, glancing at Lando, who was already looking at you with a soft expression. “Thank you,” you replied simply.

The conversation continued easily, with the group exchanging stories and laughs. The atmosphere was warm, and you felt genuinely pleased to meet Rachel’s best friend and their family.

As the buzz of conversation faded into hushed whispers, Araminta stepped forward with a smile and announced, “Nick and Rachel are on their way up now! Everyone, take your positions.”

You and Lando stood slightly off to the side, his hand on your waist, caressing it softly and tracing shapes. The elegant lighting of the sky deck reflected off the cityscape, casting a soft glow over the gathered guests.

Lando leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You know,” he whispered, tone teasing, “it was so hot watching you talk business with Wye Mun earlier. You looked so serious and confident.”

You glanced at him, barely suppressing a smile, and gave his chest a soft slap. “Stop being cheeky right now, Norris,” you muttered, keeping your voice low to avoid drawing any attention.

But it looks like Lando was not done yet. He grinned at you mischievously, his voice dipping lower. “I mean it, baby. The way you talked about developments and projects? Very impressive, very attractive.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks warmed slightly. “Lando,” you whispered warningly, “behave. This is not the time.”

He bit back a chuckle, amusement evident. “Fine, fine. But you should know, I can’t help it when you’re like that.”

You shushed him quietly, your finger briefly brushing his lips. “Quiet now,” you insisted softly, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention.

As you returned your focus to the party, your thoughts flicked back to your earlier conversation with Wye Mun. Real estate development has always intrigued you—the intricacies, potential, and stories behind every project. It was not just a polite conversation, it was a chance to learn and build connections.

“Besides,” you murmured to Lando, keeping your tone casual, “it’s always good to broaden your network. Even if I already have so many, there’s no harm in widening the circle.”

Lando nodded, his expression now a mix of curiosity and pride. “Well, you’ve got a point,” he said softly.

You let your eyes wander across the crowd, noting a few familiar faces mingling among the guests. “This place is full of businesspeople—major players in the industry, tonight,” you whispered to him. “I can recognize a few who could even be potential sponsors for McLaren.” Lando raised a brow at you, intrigued.

You turned to him, giving him a playful wink. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll help you land a deal or two.”

Lando smirked, leaning in closer to you again. “Now that,” he said, tone low and teasing, “is a kind of teamwork I can get behind.”

The sky deck fell in a hush as everyone stood in their positions, waiting for Nick and Rachel’s arrival. The atmosphere was buzzing, a mix of excitement and happiness among the crowd. The distant hum of the elevator announced their approach, and then, with a soft chime, doors slid open.

Nick stepped out first, his hands gently covering Rachel’s eyes as he carefully guided her forward into the middle of the crowd. Rachel, her posture both curious and expectant, laughed lightly, clearly amused by the surprise. The whole crowd held its collective breath, watching as Nick finally removed his hands from Rachel’s eyes.

The second her eyes opened, the silence of the crowd was replaced with an eruption of cheers and applause. Screams of happiness echoed across the sky deck, led enthusiastically by Colin and Araminta. Rachel’s expression had transformed into one of pure, radiant happiness as she took sight of everyone gathered for her. Overwhelmed with emotion, she raised her hand, showing off the stunning emerald ring that sparkled under the lights, then pointing to it with a grin.

People surged forward, surrounding Nick and Rachel with hugs and congratulations. You and Lando joined in with the crowd, your laughter blending with everyone else’s as you approached the newly engaged couple.

“Congratulations!” you said, beaming as you hugged Rachel tightly. “I’m so happy for you both.”

Nick grinned, pulling you into a quick hug as well. “Thank you for being here. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Lando shook Nick’s hand before giving Rachel a warm hug. “You two are perfect for each other.”

Nick, ever the joker, glanced between you and Lando, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You know,” he began, tone playful, “I have a strong feeling you two might be the next one.”

Rachel, catching on, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, absolutely! We’ll have to start planning your engagement party real soon.”

You and Lando exchanged amused looks, chuckling. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” you replied, though your heart skipped a beat at the thought.

As much as you adored Nick and Rachel, you did not need them adding more fuel to the fire—you were already simmering with wedding fever.

After the flood of congratulations, Nick took Rachel’s hand and gently guided her attention towards the infinity pool, where a group of synchronized swimmers began an elegant performance, their movements perfectly timed to the music. Rachel gasped softly, her eyes lighting up with wonder as she watched.

Then, from the corner of our eye, you noticed Rachel spotting your Auntie Eleanor standing a little way off. For a brief moment, the noise and excitement seemed to face as the two women exchanged a look, one of understanding and newfound respect. The warmth in Rachel’s smile and the subtle nod from your Auntie Eleanor spoke volumes. It filled your heart with joy to see that your aunt had finally come around, embracing Rachel in the way she deserved.

Nick then pulled Rachel into a tender kiss, earning a round of applause and cheers again from the crowd. Lando stepped behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist, holding you close. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel his warmth radiating through you.

The sound of fireworks exploding above pulled everyone’s attention upward. Bright colors lit up the sky, reflecting off the glass and water, painting the moment in vibrant hues. The cheers grew louder, people pointing and marveling at the display. You stayed like that, wrapped in Lando’s arms, watching the sky.

With fireworks still illuminating the sky and Lando’s arms wrapped securely around you, a quiet realization settled in your heart. It was not something sudden, it was something that had been building over time, piece by piece, moment by moment. The depth of love that you feel for Lando was staggering, overwhelming even, and yet it felt so natural.

You had dated before, countless boys who had seemed charming or interesting at the time, but none of them had ever come close to Lando. They never understood you the way Lando did. With him, there was no guessing, pretending, or effort to mold yourself into someone else’s idea of what love should look like. Lando saw you, truly saw you, in a way that no one else ever had. To be seen was to be loved.

This was what set Lando apart. With him, you never had to explain your silences, quirks, or the way your mind wandered to far-off places. He did not just tolerate those things, in fact, he cherished them. He loved them. With Lando, you felt understood in a way that words could never fully capture.

You thought back to the other relationships before Lando, the boys who had come before. They had their moments, but they always felt…incomplete. There had been a disconnect, a lingering sense that you were only partly there, only partly understood. They never have you the feeling that Lando did—feeling of being wholly, entirely loved. Lando was the man that you had been praying for, and for once, God had led Lando to you.

Sure, the way he loved you was not perfect, but it was honest. It was raw and real, and it made you feel more like yourself than you ever thought possible. Lando had this way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world, like his entire focus was only on you and no one else. That was the truth of it, wasn’t it? You had never felt this way with anyone else, and you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that no one else could make you feel the way he did. Lando was not just someone you loved—he was the person you wanted to spend your forever with.

The thought settled deeply in your chest, filling every corner of your heart with an indescribable warmth. It was not just that you loved him—it was that he was home.

“I love you,” you looked up at him, smiling.

Lando looked at you, smiling. He then whispered, “I love you too, so fucking much.”

taglist : @sheblogs

[cult-of-husbandos]

yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

[sungbeam]

𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

nonidol!yoon jeonghan x gn!reader

2.3k words, fluff, comfort, reader is sick, technically a college au, light swearing, mentions of food, mentions of cold medication, tbh i know i advocate for platonic fics but i am also just a girl. so he does pine a little lol, slice-of-life-ish, barely proofread

a/n: there is like no plot, i just am feeling ooey-gooey about svt rn heh :') been watching so much gose recently and it's healing my soul

Yoon Jeonghan was many things, but oblivious was not one of them. “Oh my god, you're sick,” were his first words to you when you opened your apartment door. His voice was droning, perfectly unimpressed, but it masked the concern attempting to skirt its way to the surface. 

“It's not that” —your sorry attempt at denial crumbled like a house of cards as you turned away to cough into your elbow. The taste of metal lingered in the back of your throat and you winced, reaching into your bag to grab your water bottle. After swallowing down a generous helping, you said to him without looking him in the eye, “I'm fine.”

Jeonghan blinked. “That's really cute,” he replied with a thin smile. “Back inside.”

“But Jeonghan—”

“No.” He grabbed you firmly by your shoulders and steered you back into your apartment, his body waddling in behind you because of your balking in the doorway. He kicked the front door shut, shucking his shoes off with uncanny accuracy into an empty space on the shoe rack. “Shoes off, Yn-ah. Don't start an argument you won't win.”

You grumbled under your breath, but did as you were told. All the while, Jeonghan smoothed a hand over his jaw, performing mental gymnastics. How did you get sick? How much time did he have before he needed to get to campus? Could he reasonably make you soup before he needed to leave for his exam?

The first question was easy to answer. He internally smacked himself—last night: your runny nose, the vitamin C powder you added to your water, your shivers on the walk home from the library. Oh, fuck. He should have driven. Why did he make you both walk in that cold?

Guilt coursed through him as he directed you back into your bedroom. 

It was a quarter to 8, meaning he didn't have time to make you ramen and make it to his exam before the doors closed. 

“I have so much shit to do today” —another horrid cough rattled through you, and Jeonghan frowned to himself as he snatched the extra blanket out of your closet— “I can't… Hannie, there's so much I need to—”

“I know, Yn-ah,” he said softly, eyes sad and tender as he bundled you up in three layers until you were likely unable to unwrap yourself. He perched by your side, his palm grazing over your forehead to take your temperature. Hot. Not good. “But if you don't take care of yourself now, it'll only get worse.”

He glanced at his phone. Five to 8—he still had fifteen minutes. It was a blessing that you lived closer to campus than he did. 

“I hate when you're right,” you muttered. The lower half of your face was tucked beneath the edges of your blankets, so all he saw were your tired, glaring eyes. 

He smirked to himself, a fuzziness warming his chest. So petulant. “You always do,” he mused. “What did you have to do today? I'll try and help out as best I can.”

Your glare softened at the corners and your eyes flitted away from him. “It's okay. I'll deal with it all when I wake up. I—wait.” Your eyes shot wide open. “You have that exam today! You have to leave—what time is it?”

“Yah, I'll make it,” he laughed. “Worry about yourself.”

“You literally said last night that you were worried about failing—”

“And now I'm worried about you,” he countered. Satisfaction brought an impish twinkle to his eyes as you scowled at him again. “But fine, I'll leave if you insist.”

He rose from the edge of the bed, picking his backpack up to sling over his shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

With his back toward you, he could allow himself to grin. “What was that?” he called back innocently. 

“Don't fail.”

He huffed out another laugh as he reached the threshold of your bedroom doorway. Jeonghan wondered briefly if he should coax that thank you out of your mouth again, but he really did need to leave. It was awful. Everything in him was ready to throw away this exam to stay here with you. “Go to sleep, honey. I'll see you when you wake up.”

Three hours later, Jeonghan shouldered his way into your apartment, his backpack on his shoulders, his mind far away from that disgusting exam he finished, and his hands occupied with a grocery bag of items he picked up on his way here. When he left earlier, he had swiped your keys on the way out so he could let himself back in without waking you up. He dumped those very keys onto the table by the door, the gazillion key chains attached to the one carabiner clattering inelegantly loud. 

He glanced over at your closed door, hoping he didn't just wake you up. 

With a little less noise, he abandoned his backpack by the couch and made his way over to the kitchen. While he had made it in time to his exam, it had taken more willpower to center his attention on the exam itself rather than letting his mind wander to all the things he wanted to do after he was done. The to-do list spanned about five items: buy cold medicine and orange juice, decide on what food to make you, buy the ingredients for that food, persuade your TA to let him pick up your graded essay (that one, he saw on a sticky note by your desk), and come back to take care of you. 

(If the TA grading his exam took note of the small list he'd jotted down in the top corner of page five, no they didn't.)

There had been several ideas of what he could make you once he was free. He had stared at the row of vegetables in the produce department for a good ten minutes before he decided on something less usual. He could make instant ramen, but that didn't seem like the healthiest option for him to feed you. There was also seaweed soup—did he have the time to go to another store to find what he needed? No. 

His next great idea was something simple, but delicious: chicken noodle soup. 

Jeonghan rummaged around your cabinets, locating the things he needed—cutting board, knife—he opened a door and sighed to himself. So you did have pasta already. Great. 

He examined the box of dried elbow macaroni and compared it to the bowtie pasta he'd picked out. “Mine’s better,” he muttered, shelving your macaroni and bumping the cabinet closed. 

In the largest pot he could find, he brewed up a hearty chicken soup, using the bones from the rotisserie chicken he bought to add more richness to the broth's flavoring. Every carrot, onion, and celery stalk he sliced, and every piece of chicken he shredded, was done deftly and with great care. This was for you, after all, and if this soup could help you get better, then he would make it the best damn thing you'd ever tasted. 

There were plenty of things Jeonghan didn't want to do or weaseled his way out of, but he could be running on one hour of sleep, and he would still haul his ass up to make kimchi from scratch if you asked him to. 

He was stationed behind the stove, tasting the soup for adjustments, when he heard your bedroom door open. 

Jeonghan peered over his shoulder and smiled at the bundle of blankets waddling your way out into the main room, your hair sticking up in odd places, and your eyes still at half mast. “Good morning, sleepy head. How're you feeling?”

“Meh,” you said hoarsely, clearing your throat. You squinted at the sunlight streaming in through the open curtains. “What're you making? It smells nice.”

“Hm? Oh, I made you some soup. Go take the medicine on the counter and sit down; I'll bring you a bowl.”

As he reached over to grab another pinch of salt, he heard you tearing open the box of cold medicine behind him. 

A moment passed by of quiet, but his heart leapt straight into his throat as he felt a soft weight rest against his back. “Thank you, Hannie,” you murmured, forehead pressed between his shoulders. 

There were about a dozen things running through his mind at the moment—things he could say, things he could do. He was an ounce of willpower away from melting on the spot, but the heat rising from the soup pot kept him upright. “Aish… thank me by getting better, okay?”

You hummed in acknowledgment and lifted yourself off his back. When you hobbled away to sit down at the table, Jeonghan couldn't brush away the feeling that the spot your head had rested was now cold. 

“How was the” —cough— “the exam?” 

Jeonghan glanced over at you as he carefully ladled soup into two bowls. He hummed, “Could've been better, but can't really do anything about it now.”

“I'm sure you did good,” you replied, holding out your hands like a kid waiting for their turn to get candy from a jar as Jeonghan made his way over to you with the soup. “You always say you did bad when you actually scored in the top ten percent.”

“Careful, honey, it's hot.” Jeonghan continued to hold the bowl even as you cupped it in your hands, until it safely reached the table. Only then did he seat himself down adjacent to you. “Yeah, well, you always said I should be more humble,” he joked.

You picked up your spoon and gestured at him with it. “Humility and lying are different things,” you said pointedly. “Anyways, thank you. This looks really yummy.”

“I don't lie,” he drawled with a twinkle in his eye. He leaned his cheek against his fist and watched as you took a spoonful and gently blew on the hot liquid. The delight that lit up your face was enough to make him happy for a century. He inclined his chin. “Good?”

“Very good. Sometimes I forget that you're good at cooking, too.”

“Not like Mingyu though,” he chuckled and brought a spoonful up to his lips. 

You shot him a look. “You don't always have to compare yourself, Hannie-ah. I'm not talking about Mingyu right now.”

Maybe I just want to make sure, he thought, then brushed it under that large, metaphorical rug in his mind. Jeonghan gave a half-hearted shrug. 

Your mouth flattened into a displeased line. His grin widened. 

When the both of you finished as many helpings as you had the appetite for, Jeonghan graciously offered to wash the dishes. He practically anchored you to the couch by wrapping you in yet another blanket—it was a double-edged sword; you were quite cute like that and he had half the mind to ditch the dishes. Once done with his task, he plucked out a dose of cold medication to take for himself, as well. 

You eyed him from the couch as he swallowed the pills with a glass of orange juice. “Did I get you sick already?” you asked, your voice having become more nasally from your stuffy nose. 

“Not yet,” he said, “it's just preventative measures since I'm gonna be hanging around you.”

“You're not leaving?” 

Your words were one thing, but the way you peered over the back of the couch at him and the upward intonation in your voice told him something else. He smiled to himself as he walked over to the couch with his juice. “No, I was going to help you finish your work for the day, but if you want me to leave, I—”

“Only if you're not afraid of getting sick,” you said quickly. 

He sighed with an air of melodrama. “I suppose I can stay after all.” He brought out his laptop and the essay he finagled from your TA, vaguely mentioning something about his careful white lies in order to accomplish his mission. It was truly something only Jeonghan could pull off and get away with. 

The first item on your to-do list was to send out a couple emails. 

Jeonghan felt the weight of your head fall onto his shoulder, and he glanced down at you in amusement. “You're not falling asleep on me, are you?” he teased, his fingers paused from the email he was typing out while you dictated the wording. 

You shifted your head. “No, I'm still awake. Do you think this sounds too bubbly?”

“It’s not too bubbly,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “But the thing is you're not this agreeable in real life—aish! Haha, hey! Don't hit me!”

He could imagine your cute, little scowl. “I am incredibly agreeable.”

“Yes, yes.” Jeonghan lightly pat your head. “You're very lovely, Yn-ah.”

You chose to ignore the impish tone in his voice. It was what he wanted you to do anyway—believe that he thought you were lovely.  

It was difficult to parse out how much time passed, but at some point, the TV was turned on to a random channel playing some 90s sitcom, and his laptop was ditched on the coffee table. Jeonghan's legs ended up sprawled across the length of the couch while your layers of blankets covered both of you. Your head rested comfortably on his chest as he continued to watch TV in silent contentment.

Jeonghan was a lot of things, but he certainly wasn't oblivious to the fact that you took the wrong cold medicine. The box he bought had both daytime and nighttime meds, the latter of which contained melatonin to aid with uninterrupted sleep. He didn't say anything earlier when he realized, but it wasn't like he could say anything now. 

He glanced down at your face, his hand cupping the back of your head with too much tenderness for friendship. You were asleep; there was nothing he could do, no jokes to make or fun to poke. 

Him, his thoughts, and you. 

But this was fine. He was happy and warm like the perfect bowl of soup filling an empty stomach, and he had no intention of leaving until he knew that you were better. As his eyes slowly drooped closed, he sank further into the blankets and your hold, soul nourished.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed <3

svt m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @meosjinnn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @floatingpluto @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @eunseok-s @bless-311 @leaz-kpop-life @fluorescentloves @thesunsfullmoon @haechansbbg @kpopjackie @jundundun @http-gyu @mars101 @moonyswolf @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @thecarnivaloflies @p-d1ddy @thatonedemigodfromseoul @foivetimesthecharm

[leo-in-the-pitt]

Stay Or Don't

—— —— —— —— ——

Stay or Don’t  

This is Chapter 6 of the Beginning to End series !

Pairing: Jack Abbott x Wife!Reader

Summary: After having your first child with Jack, you're in the ICU. But once you're discharged from the hospital, your perfect family grapples with a fragile connection that’s slowly unraveling. Is love alone enough to hold you two together?

Warnings:

Established relationship, implied age gap, strong language, some fluff but also porn with plot, unprotected PIV, fingering, oral (both m and f receiving), praise kink, pregnancy, birth trauma

Word Count: 13.9k (don't even know how tbh)

2 hours Later 

The room was dim and cold, machines humming in the background like ghosts whispering. The only light came from the heart monitor, pulsing steady and green, casting soft flashes across your still face.

Inside, you lay in the hospital bed, a fragile silhouette against the sterile white sheets. Intubated, pale, unmoving except for the slow rise and fall of your chest. Tubes and lines surrounded you. Blood transfusion halfway through. Monitors beeping steadily—too steadily. Like they didn’t care what you'd just survived.

Jack stood just outside the door. Twenty minutes, and he hadn’t blinked

The OB had come to stand next to Jack. Still in his scrubs, surgical cap gone but mask dangling off but mask hanging off one ear like an afterthought. His voice soft, steady, but carried the weight f what he’d just pulled you back from. “Jack.”

He didn’t respond, just flicked his bloodshot eyes toward him, then back to you, unyielding.

“She’s stable now.” He turned toward her slowly. His expression—something between a plea and a threat—cracked with grief. “Critical but, stable.”

Jack turned slowly, his face a fractured mask—grief, rage, and desperation warring in his eyes. “She was fine,” he rasped, voice cracking. “We were laughing. Then she was—” He stopped, choking on the memory of blood pooling too fast to stop.

The doctor nodded with a tight swallow, hands folded in front of him. “She had a severe postpartum hemorrhage, likely due to uterine atony. Her uterus wouldn’t contract after delivery, and she started losing blood fast.”

Jack’s lips parted, then pressed shut again. He nodded like he understood the words—but couldn’t accept them.

“We used an intrauterine balloon tamponade to stop the bleeding. It's inserted into the uterus and inflated to create pressure from within. It helped stabilize her, along with transfusions. We intubated her to protect her airway."

“A balloon,” he muttered, the word bitter, absurd. “That’s what’s keeping her alive?”

“For now. It’s working. Her vitals are holding.”

Jack turned his face away, jaw tight. A moment passed before he spoke again. “Is she going to wake up?”

“We’re hopeful. There’s no reason to think there’s any brain damage. Her vitals are holding. We’re keeping her sedated for now to help her body rest and heal.”

“She barely even saw him.”

“He’s doing well. In the nursery—strong vitals, good reflexes. He looks like you.”

Jack’s throat bobbed. He rubbed his hands down his face, trying to breathe through the storm inside him.

“She made it, Jack. You both did. But she needs time now. And you need to let yourself breathe, too.”

He looked back at you. You looked so far away behind that glass. “I don’t know how to be a father without her.”

“You won’t have to. She's still fighting. And you need to fight for her too. For both of them.“

A long silence.

Then Jack stepped forward, slow and unsure, and opened the door.

He pulled the chair closer and sat down beside you. His thumb brushed your knuckles. They were ice cold.

His wedding ring rested against the inside of your palm, his thumb brushing slow, constant circles across your knuckles—like if he just kept moving, you’d stay tethered to him.

“I don’t know how to do this part,” he whispered. “You always tell me what to do, what to say.”

He laughed quietly, voice cracking. “You’d probably tell me to breathe. Or make some sarcastic joke. Or call me dramatic.”

His forehead lowered to your hand. “But I am. I’m dramatic. And scared. And I don’t know how to be a dad if you’re not there to tell me when I’m doing it wrong. I’m no good without you. I can’t raise him alone — not the way he deserves.”

He sat back, eyes stinging. “You’re the strong one. Not me. I fall apart, remember? I panic. I spiral. That’s my thing.”

Your monitors beeped steadily in reply. Jack exhaled, long and trembling. “I need you to wake up, babygirl. I’m not me without you. I may have only known you for a couple years but, I don’t know how to live without you anymore.”

Then—just barely—your hand twitched under his. Jack’s eyes snapped to your face.

“You come back to us,” he whispered. “You have to come back. We’re not done yet.”

Robby stood just inside the doorway. Quiet.

“I brought you clean clothes,” he said softly, holding up a bag. “And something to eat.”

Jack didn’t look at him. Just gave the barest shake of his head.

Robby stepped closer, set the bag down.

Jack finally spoke. “They said the bleeding’s under control now.”

Robby nodded. “She’s stable. For now. They’re going to keep her sedated until she’s strong enough to breathe on her own.”

Jack turned to him, eyes red, his voice barely a whisper. “She said… she wanted to name him after me. Just before. As she—”

“I know,” Robby said gently. “You know when I told her I’d look out for you if something happened, I meant it.”

Jack squeezed his eyes shut.

“She knew,” he breathed. “God, it’s like she knew something bad was going to happen to her.”

Robby didn’t respond—just stepped forward, placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“You did everything right, Jack.”

“It wasn’t enough,” Jack rasped.

Robby swallowed. “She’s still here.”

Silence fell again, thick and aching. Jack looked at your face—soft, colorless, beautiful—and reached up with shaking fingers to brush a strand of hair from your forehead.

I told her she’d be okay,” he whispered. “I promised her. I don’t know if she even heard me.”

Robby hesitated. “She heard you.”

“But we don’t know that.”

 Robby held his stare. “I do.”

———————————————————————

Later That Day

The ICU nurse glanced up when Jack entered, arms cradling a tightly swaddled bundle against his chest.

“He shouldn’t be in here long,” she said softly.

“I know,” Jack whispered. “Just a few minutes. I promised her.”

The nurse nodded and stepped out, giving them a moment.

Jack looked at you—still sedated, pale, intubated, but alive. The rhythmic hiss of the ventilator was steadier today, your vitals slowly climbing toward normal.

He pulled the rocking chair as close as he could and sat down beside you, adjusting the baby in his arms.

“Hey,” he murmured, brushing a hand gently down your arm. “I brought someone to meet you.”

Your eyes didn’t open. But Jack spoke anyway, softly, like you were just asleep.

“This is him. Our boy. Jack.”

The baby let out a tiny grunt in his sleep, shifting in Jack’s arms. His face was round and pink and peaceful. A full head of dark hair like yours. His tiny fist had latched onto Jack’s finger and hadn’t let go since the nursery.

“He’s perfect,” Jack whispered. “He looks like you. Thank God.”

He looked back at you.

“You missed his first diaper. You’re welcome,” he added with a soft, shaky laugh. “But you’re not missing anything else. I’m serious, babygirl. You wake up. You come back. We need you.”

“I need you to come back, okay? Because I can’t do this without you. I mean—I will. I’ll do everything. Every feeding, every diaper, every panic attack at 3 a.m. But I want to do it with you.”

He swallowed hard, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand.

“I’ve never been more scared in my life. Not even in the ER. But he’s here. You brought him here. And I swear to God, I will love him the way you love—completely. No holding back.”

Jack sat back slightly, watching you in the silence, machines still blinking.

A long pause.

“I’m keeping everything you gave him—your stubbornness, your kindness, your strength—alive in both of us. Until you open those eyes again.”

He leaned forward and placed the baby gently on your chest—carefully, so your wires and monitors weren’t disturbed.

“See that?” Jack whispered. “That’s your mom. She’s the strongest person I know.”

The baby stirred slightly, his face turning into the warmth of your chest, nose brushing against the hospital gown.

“You already know her, don’t you?” Jack asked quietly. “You heard her voice every day. She wanted you to have my name. But I want you to know hers too. Because everything good in you—it’s going to come from her.”

He sat there, one hand on your arm, the other cupping the back of his son’s head.

“I want this to be the first thing you remember when you wake up,” he whispered. “Your boys. Right here.”

A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, landing on the edge of your pillow.

The machines continued to hum. The baby breathed slow and even. And Jack just sat there—watching you, hoping, and loving you in silence.

Waiting for you to come back home.

———————————————————————

One Day Later 

You were still intubated, sedated. Still fighting. Jack hadn’t left your bedside all night. His chair was pulled up so close that his arm rested along the edge of your bed. He hadn’t slept. His eyes swollen and red, hand still wrapped gently around yours. Monitors beeped in quiet rhythm. 

A soft knock came at the door., breaking the silence. Jack turned.

Robby stepped in first. Face drawn but hopeful. Behind him came Dana, eyes already glassy. Langdon followed with his usual confident stride, though today it seemed to be lacking. Then Mel, who was clutching a paper coffee cup like it was the only thing keeping her upright. And Collins, silent and unreadable, lingering at the back of the group.

They hesitated just beyond the door.

Jack stood slowly, voice rough from disuse. “You can come in.”

They filed in quietly, instinctively keeping their voices low.

“She looks… better than I expected.” Said Dana.

“That doesn’t mean much. We’ve all seen patients look fine and crash thirty minutes later.”

“Langdon.” Mel nudged him. “Sorry. I just— I’m sorry.”

Jack didn’t say anything. He turned back toward you, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead.

“How’s her neuro status?”

“No deficits so far but, she’s been sedated all night so there’s no way to know for sure. They're weaning sedation later today. Hopefully do a breathing trial later before extubating. Ballon’s coming out soon.”

That silence again. Unspoken fears.

They stood around you, quiet, taking you in—not just as a patient, but as their friend. Their colleague. Their family.

“The nursery said your son is doing great. Healthy lungs, strong vitals. He’s a screamer.”

Dana, smiling through tears,  “Definitely your kid.”

Langdon looked over at Jack, “Have you held him yet?”

Jack shook his head. His voice barely made it out, “I’m not leaving her.”

“Jack, she would want you to. He’s here. He needs you too.”

Jack looked at you, then at the group. His throat worked hard to swallow the emotion building again.

“I know, I know. I just—what if something happened and I’m not here?”

“Then she’ll forgive you. Because you’ll be holding your son.” Collins said softly.

Dana reached across the bed, taking your other hand gently. “We love you, 

okay? You’ve scared the absolute shit out of all of us. But we’re here. And we’re not going anywhere.”

Jack lowered himself back into the chair, still gripping your hand.

The group stood around you—all used to worse case scenarios, usually sharp-tongued and quick-footed, now quiet and reverent. They didn’t know what to say. But they didn’t need to.

They were there. With you. With Jack. 

The world came back in pieces.

First, the sound of the ventilator, the quiet beep of a monitor, distant voices softened by sedation. Then the sensation of weight, of oxygen filling your lungs in a way that felt both foreign and yours.

“We’re ready to extubate.”

The next voice was closer. His voice. “Take your time, baby. We’re here.”

Those words—the one your soul answered to—cracked something open.

The respiratory therapist leaned over you. “Okay, sweetheart. On the count of three, we’ll take the tube out. Nice and easy. Just breathe with me.”

One hand held yours. Warm, grounding, trembling just slightly.

You tried to inhale.

The nurse nodded. “Good. Now exhale.” The tube slid free.

You gagged, coughing, throat burning like fire. The oxygen mask was placed almost immediately, cool air rushing in to soothe the sting. You blinked against the blur, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

Shapes came into focus. And then—them.

Jack stood just behind the nurses, your son held in his arms like the most sacred thing in the world. Swaddled tightly, resting against his father’s chest, your baby blinked and stirred like he knew something had changed.

Jack’s eyes locked on yours the moment he saw them open.

And your voice—shaky, raw, barely there—rose with everything you had left:

“There’s… my boys.”

Jack’s breath hitched. His lips parted like he hadn’t expected you to speak—hadn’t dared hope.

The nurse turned, quietly stepping away. The moment belonged to you now.

Jack moved closer, his arms cradling the baby, his face wet with tears.

“You came back,” he whispered, kneeling beside the bed. “God, I didn’t know if you would.”

Your eyes fell to the tiny bundle against his chest. Your son. So small. So alive.

You reached one trembling hand out toward him.

Jack adjusted carefully, gently placing the baby into your arms, guiding him into the space above your heart like he’d always belonged there.

The weight of him. The warmth. The miracle.

Your eyes never left his face.

“Hi, babyboy,” you whispered, your voice breaking around the words. “Hi, I’m your mom.”

The baby stirred, as if he recognized your heartbeat. Jack leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

“We’re okay now,” you breathed.

He nodded, tears falling freely. “Yeah, babygirl. We’re okay.”

For the first time since labor. You weren’t just alive. You were somebody’s mother.

And your boys were right there with you.

———————————————————————

One Week Later

The sliding doors of the ER ahead, wide and bright under the late afternoon sun. It felt surreal—like walking through a dream you weren’t sure you’d ever get to see.

You were in a wheelchair, bundled in soft clothes that weren’t your own. Pale, a little unsteady, but awake. Breathing on your own. Alive.

Jack stood behind you, one hand on the wheelchair handle, the other cradling your newborn son tightly to his chest. The tiny blue beanie on the baby’s head was slightly crooked. 

“You ready?”

You nodded, voice still weak. “As I’ll ever be.”

Jack pushed you gently through the lobby. Every foot of distance from the ICU felt earned. Nurses waved from the desk. A few staff paused in the hallway—smiles tugging at their tired faces. You were one of their own. And you'd made it out.

Dana, Robby, Collins, Mel, and Langdon waited near the exit, in the middle of their shift, coffee in hand. Nobody dared to miss this moment.

“Well look who decided to check out.” Dan grinned. 

“I figured it was about time I stopped hogging the monitors.”

Robby let out a chuckle, “You scared the hell out of us.”

“I scared the hell out of me.”

They surrounded you briefly—hugs, careful touches. Your son slept through all of it.

Langdon looked over to Jack, “You sure you can handle a car seat?”

Jack scoffed, half-laughing, half-exhausted. “I’ve triple-checked the latch system. Don’t test me.”

You smiled, hand brushing the baby’s head. “Someone’s definitely nesting.”

“Text us when you're home. We’ll bring food. Or alcohol. Or... both.” Said Robby drawing laughs from the group.

You looked up at Jack. He met your eyes for a beat, then leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“Let’s go home.”

The sliding doors opened with a quiet whoosh.

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime—you left the hospital not as two ER doctors. Not as survivors of the unimaginable. But as parents. As something new.

The front door creaked open like it was welcoming you back.

It was quiet—eerily so after the hum and buzz of the hospital. No monitors. No hallway chatter. Just the echo of your own breath and the creak of Jack’s boots across the hardwood floor.

He stepped inside first, carrying the car seat like it held the most fragile thing in the universe. You followed slowly, still sore, hand trailing the doorframe as you looked around.

Same house. Same light filtering through the windows. But everything was different now. This was home.

Jack set the car seat down gently on the living room rug and crouched beside it, brushing a fingertip across your son’s cheek. “Welcome home, buddy,” he whispered, his voice already catching in his throat.

You lowered yourself onto the couch, slow and careful, letting your body melt into the cushions. You hadn’t realized how much tension you’d been carrying until you could finally release it in your own space.

Jack looked over, watching you like he still couldn’t believe it. “You okay?”

You nodded, blinking fast. “Yeah. Just… overwhelmed.”

He joined you on the couch, arm instantly wrapping around your shoulders. “Me too.”

The silence that followed was the good kind. Safe. Sacred.

You both looked down at the tiny human asleep in front of you. His fists curled. His mouth slightly open. Perfect.

“He looks so small here,” you whispered.

Jack smiled softly. “He looks like he belongs here.”

You leaned your head against his. “So do we.”

You sat there like that for a while—just the three of you, breathing in the peace that had felt so far away for so long.

Eventually, Jack broke the silence with a chuckle. “We’re parents.”

You turned to him. “We really are.”

“And he’s ours. Like—we don’t have to give him back to anyone.”

You laughed, wiping a tear away. “Don’t say it like we stole him.”

Jack grinned, eyes never leaving yours. “Well, he did steal my heart.”

You reached for his hand and held it over your lap. “Good thing I already had it first.”

He leaned in and kissed you. Deep, slow, and full of everything unspoken.

When you pulled back, you were both quiet again—watching your baby breathe, rise and fall, rise and fall.

The home was filled with something new now. Not just furniture. Not just you and Jack.

But love. Real, tangible, life-altering love. And this time no alarms. No blood. No fear. Just a family, finally whole.

———————————————————————

That Night

The house was quiet in that sacred, newborn way—dimmed lights, soft shadows, and the occasional gentle hiccup from the crib beside the bed.

You were curled on your side, nestled into Jack’s chest, his arms wrapped securely around you. One of his hands rested just above your hip, the other gently stroking your arm in slow, unconscious motions. Protective. Present.

The baby stirred in the crib a few feet away, a sleepy little sigh and a stretch of impossibly tiny limbs. You both turned your heads instinctively at the sound.

Jack whispered, lips brushing your temple. “He’s okay. Just dreaming.”

You nodded against his chest, eyes barely open. “He does that thing with his fingers when he sleeps… same as you.”

Jack smiled softly, tightening his hold on you just a little. “I don’t know how we got here.”

“Yeah, it definitely didn’t happen because you wouldn’t stop staring at me from across the ER.

He laughed lightly. “You that’ll do it.”

You lifted your head p to him. “Were you scared?”

Jack’s answer didn’t come right away. When it did, it came low and raw. “I thought I lost you. I… I kept saying your name like that would keep you here.”

You shifted slightly to look at him, brushing his cheek with your fingers. “I heard you.”

He blinked hard. “Yeah?”

“All of it. While it all happened. And in. The ICU when you stayed up all night with me. Thought I was going to lose my hand if you held on any tighter.”

His eyes welled again, throat tight. “I couldn’t let you go.”

Jack buried his face in your hair and exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding that breath since the moment everything went wrong. “You’re here. You’re both here.”

You listened to your baby breathe in the crib beside you. His little hand had slipped free of the blanket and lay against his cheek in a way that looked almost thoughtful.

You let your eyes fall closed again, letting yourself believe this was real. That you made it. That you were safe.

Jack’s hand settled over your heart. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”

And for the first time in days, you did.

———————————————————————

10 Weeks Later

The sunset filtered in through the blinds, casting warm lines across the hardwood floor. A bottle warmer hummed quietly on the counter. The baby was asleep in the bassinet nearby, milk-drunk and peaceful.

You stood in the kitchen in leggings and his soft old sweatshirt, hair still damp from a quick shower. Stronger now—healthier. The color had returned to your cheeks. Your movement, still cautious, was full of purpose.

Jack walked in wearing scrubs, travel mug in hand, stethoscope draped around his neck. He looked good, but tired—two weeks back on shift already taking its toll.

You turned as he came in, casual. “So I’m going back”

Jack’s eyes snapped to you, mug pausing in mid-air. He knew that tone. “Back where?”

You offered a small smile, trying to ease into it. “Work,” you said, like it was nothing. Like you hadn’t just dropped a bomb. “I talked to Robby. yesterday. I’m coming back at twelve weeks.”

He laughs. Sharp. Disbelieving. “Twelve weeks? You’re fucking joking. You told Robby before you talked to me?”

You nodded, wiping down the counter, like the conversation wasn’t about to explode. “Yeah, that was always the plan. I don’t need your permission.”

“You’re right, that was the plan before your heart nearly stopped. You might not need my permission but, you do need some fucking common sense. Do you even hear yourself right now?”

You turned around, crossing your arms—not defensive, just bracing. “Don’t talk to me like I’m insane. I’m a doctor Jack, not just a mom you can lock up and keep quiet so you can sleep at night.”

Jack set his mug down a little too hard. His voice came out low and tight. “You wanna talk about sleep? You know when I stopped sleeping? When you almost died. When I heard our son crying as your blood poured onto the floor right in front of us!”

You blinked. Hard. “Jesus, Jack— it’s always going to come back to that isn’t it? You think I don’t remember that? I was the one whose fucking body gave out, Jack! Mine! I live that moment every second of every day now. You just get to visit the trauma whenever it’s convenient.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering underneath the fear.

“Oh, fuck you. Don’t start with that bullshit. You think this is about control?Don’t you dare minimize what I went through. We almost lost you. And now you want to just walk back into the trauma bay like nothing happened?”

“You didn’t fucking go through it Jack! You watched it. There’s a very clear difference! You’re not the one who wakes up in a cold sweat wondering if you’ll even get to see your son grow up because your body betrayed you so violently it almost took you out!”

“And I don’t wake up in cold sweats? You think you’re the only one broken from this? Maybe act like you actually care!”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“You almost died!”

“And now what? I sit in this house all day and rot while you go back to work like none of it fucking happened?!”

“Because I don’t have a choice! I don’t get to fall apart!”

“Neither do I! I’m not going to stay here like your fucking prisoner.”

“No, you’re just the woman who nearly left me to raise our kid alone. I saved your fucking life. Don’t forget that.”

“Then maybe you should’ve let me die, if this is how you were going to treat me after.”

The moment shatters. 

You both freeze.

“What did you just say?”

Your voice cracked, but you didn’t back down.

“If this is how you’re going to treat me… like I’m some fragile, broken mess who needs guarding every second of the day—maybe you should’ve let me go.”

He stepped back like you’d hit him. He blinked hard, like trying to see past something bloody. His jaw flexed. Eyes glassed over. Jack’s mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Only rage and something deeper—shattered, terrified grief.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I don’t even know what I mean anymore. You dot get to play God Jack, you don’t get to fucking decide what I do, or where I go, Or what makes me feel alive again.”

“You’re the one who lived, but you walk around like you fucking resent us for it. You don’t get to fucking die on me and act like I’m the asshole for not being over it.”

“Because you are smothering me every single second I try to breathe!”

He grabbed his keys and wallet off the counter with a violent motion. His hands shaking. 

“What does it even mutter, huh? You clearly don’t give a shit what I have to say. Go back to work. Bleed out in the trauma room. Maybe next time, you’ll get your wish. You want to play brave little martyr, go right ahead. Because I swear to God, if you’re trying to prove something by killing yourself, don’t expect me to fucking clap!”

“Get out,” you choked.

“What?”

Tears started to fill your eyes, “Get the fuck out of my house, Jack.”

“Gladly.” The door slams like a gunshot.

Your baby wakes, screaming. You ran to him instantly, sinking to your knees, heart pounding, hands trembling.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it.”

But some part of you did.

And some part of him did too.

———————————————————————

The automatic doors slide open, and Jack steps into the chaos of the emergency department like a man walking into war. His jaw is clenched, his scrubs wrinkled. There’s a storm behind his eyes. He walks fast. Doesn’t say hello. Doesn’t make eye contact.

Langdon clocks him instantly from the central desk. “You’re early.”

Jack doesn’t respond. Just takes the chart from Langdon’s hand with a snatch and keeps moving.

“She okay?”

Jack stops walking, shoulders stiff. “No. I’m not fucking okay, Langdon.”

He disappears down the hall.

The trauma room is a flurry—nurses, EMTs, shouting over one another as a gurney barrels in.

“Twenty-nine-year-old male, GSW to the abdomen. BP dropping. We’ve got a pressure dressing but he’s losing blood fast—” The EMT shouts.

Jack’s already gloving up. His voice is sharp. Unforgiving. “Move. I’ve got it.”

He barks orders with an edge.

“Push two liters wide open. Where’s the fucking O-neg?!”

“It’s en route—” said a nurse. 

“Then fucking run!” His shout jolts the room. Even the patient, half-conscious, twitches under the weight of Jack’s fury.

He works like a machine—hands steady, mind ruthless. Every motion is precise: clamping vessels, packing gauze, barking for suction. The bleeding slows. The patient stabilizes. Jack saves him, because that’s what he does. But there’s no triumph in it, only a burning rage.

The transport team wheels the gurney out, and the room falls silent. Jack doesn’t move. Blood smears the gloves he hasn’t stripped off. His breaths are shallow, ragged.

Dana comes in quietly. Her voice is gentle, but steady. “Jack…”

He doesn’t answer.

“You look like you’ve been through a meat grinder. What happened?”

“I said shit I can’t take back, Dana. Fucked-up cruel shit. Then I slammed the door on my wife and my screaming kid and came to work like a fucking coward.”

He lifts his head, eyes red-rimmed, glassy. “She said I’m suffocating her. And she’s not wrong.”

Dana steps forward, but doesn’t touch him. “You’re grieving. Just in a different way.”

“No. It’s not grief.” His voice cracks, raw and bitter. “Its pure fucking anger. I’m angry she almost died. I’m angry she wants to walk right back into the fire. I’m angry that I couldn’t stop it—and that I still can’t.”

He slams a fist against the crash cart. Metal clangs, instruments scattering. His knuckles split, blood welling. Dana flinches. 

He breathes hard, fists trembling. “I’m scared. I don’t even recognize myself right now.”

Dana nods, voice soft. “Then go home. Before you get your blood on someone else.”

He doesn’t move. His gaze drifts to the blood on his hand, then to the doorway. Going home means facing you. Facing the truth of what you both said.

What if you meant all that you said?  What if he did too?

———————————————————————

Golden morning sun filters through trees. A few joggers pass by, birds chirp, kids’ swings creak in the breeze.

And there’s Jack—sitting on a weathered wooden bench just off the walking trail. Scrubs wrinkled. Hoodie pulled up. Hands in his lap, holding your wedding ring on the chain you bought him.

He stares at the exact spot of grass where, right where he said “I love you” first, right where you said yes to his proposal. 

Now, he's silent. Still. And completely alone.

You storm through the emergency department, baby carrier in one hand, diaper bag half-zipped, fury radiating off you like heat.You look exhausted, still in yesterday’s clothes. Your son whimpers, fussing, as you march straight up to the nurses’ station.

You haven’t slept. You haven’t cried. You don’t have time.

“Where the hell is he?”

Robby, mid-chart, looks up. Blinks. “Who?”

“My husband. Your best friend. Tall, moody, full of rage? Usually parked right next to you?”

Robby sets his pen down slowly, expression shifting, carefully. “He left this morning. Didn’t say much. Didn’t seem right though.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I mean he looked like he hadn’t slept in a while and might shatter into dust if anyone breathed too loud near him.”

You close your eyes, breathing hard. The baby cries again.

“Did you two…?”

You glare.

“We screamed at each other so loud I’m pretty sure we violated noise ordinances.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. Shit.” You look around, growing more anxious by the second. “He didn’t come home. Turned his location off. I thought he’d be here.”

Robby’s concern deepens.

“I haven’t seen him. But if I had to guess—he’s probably somewhere that still feels like the world hasn’t completely fallen apart.”

You pause. Your eyes flick toward the doors. Across the street. To the little park with the rusted bench and broken streetlamp. Where Jack once knelt and held out a trembling ring.

Your expression softens. Just a little. “Fuck.”

You turn, hoist the baby bag higher, and start walking—hard and fast, with a knot in your throat and fear creeping in behind your ribs.

Jack hasn’t moved.

He holds the chain tighter now, eyes closed, head back. Like he’s begging the sky for forgiveness.

Footsteps crunch across gravel.

He opens his eyes just as you appear, panting, flushed, baby fussy in your arms, rage etched across your face—but under it, hurt. Deep and blistering.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

He stiffens. Doesn’t speak.

“This is where you’ve been? For hours Jack? It’s already past noon! You don’t answer your phone and I find you moping in the goddamn engagement park like we’re characters in some tragic love story?!”

“I didn’t-“ he starts, voice hoarse. 

You cut him off. “No, stop talking. You don’t get to play sad and silent. Not after the shit you just pulled last night. You don’t leave me wondering if you’re lying in a ditch somewhere. You don’t leave him.” You looked down at your son, “—wondering if he’s ever gonna see his fucking dad again!”

Jack looks at the baby, face crumpling. “I couldn’t - I didn’t know what to say.”

“Grow the fuck up, Jack. You’re worried about me dying but, you don’t show up home all morning?”

The baby starts crying again. You bounce him gently, but your hands are trembling.

“I didn’t mean—“

“You never fucking mean it, Jack! That’s kind of your whole fucking thing!” You screamed loud enough for everybody else in the park to hear.

The baby starts to cry again, sensing the storm in your voice, but you're past reason.

“You called me reckless. Said I almost left you to do it alone—like I chose to bleed out on that fucking table! Like I wanted to almost die!”

“I didn’t mean it like that. You have to know that.”

“Bull. Shit.”Your voice cuts sharp. “You didn’t know how to face the mess you made, so you ran. Real fucking heroic.”

You get in his face. “You meant it. You meant all of it. You threw that pain at me like a fucking weapon. And now what? You sit here like some tragic widower while I carry both of us on my back?”

He finally snapped. 

“I needed a fucking minute, okay?! Just one goddamn second to not be the asshole or the husband or the fucking doctor! Just one second to breathe without feeling like I’m watching you die all over again! Im terrified, everyday, that I’ll lose you again!”

“Terrified? Your laugh is bitter, cutting. You get your space. What do I get? I’m haunted by it too, Jack, same as you. But I don’t get to run.”

“You said you’d come back to work. You said you were fine. And all I could think was: What if she’s not? What if I lose her again, and this time it sticks?”

“So instead, you just decided to leave me alone now?”

“I didn’t want to lose my mind in front of you.” He runs a hand through his hair, yanking hard. “I didn’t think you’d want me to come back!”

“Then you don’t know me at all.”

He stares at you—cracked, bleeding, furious. You’re breathing like you ran a mile. The baby cries harder.

Your voice shaking, “You should’ve come home. You should’ve fucking come home.”

Jack drops his head into his hands, eyes squeezed shut, like he's trying to hold the world inside.

“I didn’t know how.”

“But you knew how to walk away just fine.”

That hits him harder than anything you’ve said to him I the past 5 years of knowing each other. 

Silence falls. Just the baby wailing. Just the weight of all the words said and unsaid.

“I don’t know how to be the person you need.”

“Then maybe we’re too far gone. I’m taking our son home. The door will be unlocked if you decide we’re worth coming home to.”

You turn. 

And this time, you don’t look back.

———————————————————————

12 Weeks 

You’re both back in the ER. Nights. When you overlap, it’s cold.

You pass each other in hallways like strangers who used to be something.

When you do talk, it’s clinical. Nothing more. As if the wedding rings you’re both wearing have lost all meaning. 

Like you’re a colleague. Like he’s forgotten how your voice used to sound when you whispered his name in the dark. No softness. No warmth.

You chart at the same desk. You sit in the same chairs. But it might as well be worlds apart. Sometimes your knees brush under the desk and both of you freeze like it burned.

Like the contact is too much. Or too little.

When you do talk, it’s sharp. Brief. Controlled. Like throwing knives and pretending it’s a handshake.

“Room three’s ready for dispo.” “Did you sign off on the chest CT?” “I’ll grab the kid in four. Don’t wait on me.”

Jack stays late at work often. You see it in the deepening lines under his eyes.

You want to ask him where he goes. You want him to ask if you’re eating. If you’re sleeping. If the headaches have come back.

But all either of you ever do is swallow the words before they leave your throat.

Like if you don’t say them out loud, they can’t hurt you.

The baby goes to daycare or with a friend. Sometimes Langdon/Mel or Robby/Collins picks him up. You barely speak about it—just leave a note.

You still see next to each other. Inches apart. 

The few times you do talk, it’s like striking matches just to see what’ll burn.

Then silence. Or worse: you both walk away.

People at the hospital notice. Dana gives you long looks. Mel offers to babysit more often—she doesn’t say why. Robby has tried, multiple times, to corner Jack in the break room. Each time, Jack brushes past him with a polite nod that could kill a conversation at twenty paces.

At home, the distance is worse. Because there’s no chart to hide behind there. No chaos to keep your hands moving.

Just the sound of your son babbling. The scent of formula and soap. The occasional buzz of a phone that neither of you rush to answer.

You take turns holding the baby. Passing him off like a shift change. You smile at your son, stroke his hair, kiss his forehead like a prayer. And Jack does too. You both still love him more than anything. But he’s the only thing you have in common anymore.

You lie facing opposite walls, backs rigid, afraid to turn and find the other already gone in every way but physical.

Sometimes you pretend to sleep just to avoid speaking. Sometimes you wait, holding your breath, listening to see if Jack will say something—anything.

He doesn’t.

He used to breathe your name like a lifeline. Now he just breathes.

And you both think it, louder with every night:

“Say it. Please, just say it.” “We’re not okay.”

But no one says it.

No one says the word divorce either. But you’ve both felt it, breathing at the edge of the bed. At the foot of the crib. In the passenger seat during the drive home, when neither of you even bother turning on the radio anymore.

You tell yourself you’re holding on for your son. But sometimes, you wonder if your son is the only one holding you. You wonder if the next shift is the one where it all cracks. If someone will raise their voice.

Or reach out. Or pack a bag.

But for now, you both pretend. Pretend the baby doesn’t notice. Pretend the coworkers don’t stare. Pretend the ghost of that night isn’t still standing in your kitchen, bleeding out between you.

Because saying we’re not okay would mean admitting it broke.

And neither of you are brave enough to look at the broken pieces just yet.

Not tonight.

Maybe not ever.

———————————————————————

14 Weeks

The shift’s dragging. Overhead lights buzz. Monitors beep. The smell of antiseptic is a constant background noise, and you’ve been charting what feels like forever, when Langdon walks over, leaning against the counter with a takeout coffee in hand and his usual smirk just slightly dimmed ready to start his day.

He glances between you and Jack—who’s on the other side of the ER.

“So…” Langdon says casually, sipping his coffee, “what’s the plan for the big day?”

You blink. “What big day?”

He lifts a brow. “Anniversary. Two, actually. Three years together, one year married. In like, what — two weeks?” He smiles. “I mean, I don’t know what kind of sickos celebrate both, but I assumed you’d at least pretend to give a shit.”

Your fingers pause on the keyboard. You blink slowly. You hadn’t forgotten. You just weren’t thinking about it. Couldn’t afford to.

Across the ER, Jack starts walking toward you. Neither of you see him.

He falters, suddenly unsure of his joke, of this moment, of everything.

“Anyway…” he says, trying to backpedal, “figured you guys had something planned. Dinner, maybe? A night off? Or just some baby-free time?”

You keep typing. “Pretty sure he’ll find a reason to leave the house.”

Langdon frowns. “Come on. That’s—look, I get it, things are rough. But anniversaries matter. Even if it’s just one night where you both pretend to still like each other.”

You snort, low and dry. “If we make it through a diaper change without arguing, it’s considered foreplay at this point.”

Langdon cracks a grin, then hesitates. “Okay, but real talk? You ever think maybe what you guys need is just one massive, completely inappropriate round of hate sex? Clean the pipes, scream it out, whatever.”

You huff a laugh, but it dies quick. “As sexually frustrated as I am, hate sex won’t fix this. We’re too far past that. There’s nothing left to burn.”

Langdon watches you. His expression shifts. Less teasing now. More concerned. “I don’t know. Thought maybe you’d want to remember why you did all this in the first place.”

You don’t answer. Not at first.

And then, voice low: “Some days I can’t remember what that reason was.”

Behind you, Jack reaches the station. You don’t hear his footsteps. But Langdon’s eyes flick behind you—and his mouth snaps shut.

You don’t realize he’s there until Jack speaks.

“Some days,” Jack says quietly, “I wonder if it was ever real.”

Your spine stiffens. Your hands go still.

Langdon takes a step back like someone just hit a tripwire. “Okay. Yeah. I’m gonna go be literally anywhere else.”

He walks off fast, his usual sarcasm nowhere in sight.

You turn slowly. Jack’s eyes meet yours.And it’s not indifference. It’s not even anger. It’s something hollow. Bruised. And dangerous. You stare at him, pulse ringing in your ears, and you don’t know what you’re more afraid of:

That he meant it. Or that you believe him.

But you don’t say anything. Neither does he.

You turn back to your screen. Jack takes the chart he came for.

And for the rest of the shift—hell, maybe the rest of the week—you don’t speak.

Not even when you pass each other in the trauma bay. Not even when your hands brush by accident while gloving up. Not even when your baby, that night, looks between you with wide, wondering eyes like he can already sense the cracks forming in the walls of your home.

You wonder if silence is safer than honesty. You wonder how many more words you can leave unsaid before the whole thing collapses.

You wonder if you’re still in love. Or just in mourning.

——————————————————————— 

15 Weeks 

The baby’s finally asleep upstairs, but the silence in the house isn’t peace. It’s a powder keg, waiting for a spark.

You sit on the couch, numb, scrolling through your phone without really seeing anything. The kitchen light is on, and you hear Jack unloading the dishwasher like a man ready to explode—plates clattering louder than necessary, fists clenched.

Then the sound of breaking glass. A bowl hits the floor, shattering like a gunshot in the quiet house.

“FUCK!” Jack’s voice cuts through the air, harsh and raw.

You jump up. “Seriously? You’re losing it over a fucking bowl?”

No response.

You step closer, voice rising. “Is that all this is now? You breaking shit instead of talking? What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Jack spins around, eyes wild. “You want to know what’s wrong? This! This goddamn mess of a life! The silence between us, the cold that’s sucking the air out of this house!”

You’re trembling now, anger bubbling beneath exhaustion. “Oh, so it’s my fault? I’m the problem because I’m still standing, still trying to hold it together?”

He laughs—bitter and broken. “Yeah. You’re fine, aren’t you? Back at work like nothing happened. Like you didn’t almost die on that table and leave me standing there with my hands tied!”

You throw your hands up. “And what? You think I wanted to die? You think I chose to go through that? You think it was easy for me?”

“No,” he snaps. “But you act like it’s over. Like we just pick up and move on.”

“You left me!” Your voice cracks. “You shut me out. You turned your back when I needed you the most.”

Jack’s face twists, the weight of it all crashing down. “I didn’t leave. I stayed. But you were so busy pretending everything was fine, I was drowning alone.”

You shake your head, tears blurring your vision. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say I left first.”

Silence crashes down like thunder.

Jack’s voice softens, raw with pain. “I miss you. I miss us. But it feels like every time I reach for you, you pull away.”

You swallow hard. “Maybe because every time I reach for you, you’re already halfway gone. Why are we still together Jack?”

“Why are you acting like we’re divorced already?”

That was the first time one of you had said that word out loud. 

The baby cries from upstairs, a sharp, desperate sound that cuts through the tension.

You look at Jack. Your voice breaks. “You should go check on him. You’re the only one who can calm him right now.”

Jack hesitates, eyes searching yours like trying to find a lifeline in the wreckage.

You turn away before he answers, heart pounding with the fear that maybe, just maybe, this might be the moment everything finally falls apart.

———————————————————————

16 Weeks Anniversary Day.

Over 5 years of knowing each other. Three years together. One year married. The calendar reminder pings on your phone that morning and you silence it without looking.

You and Jack pass each other in the kitchen like ghosts. The baby babbles in his high chair, spoon in hand, oatmeal on his nose. He’s the only one making any noise.

No one says “Happy Anniversary.” No plans. No smiles. No eye contact.

You grab your keys and your list. Open the fridge. Slam it shut a little harder than needed.

“I’m going to the store.”

Jack, at the sink rinsing out the bottle, nods. Doesn’t turn around. “Okay.”

And that’s it. You leave without saying goodbye.

An hour and a half later.

You walk back in the door, reusable grocery bags in hand, shoulders stiff from the weight of it all—not just the food, but the silence, the grief, the way this day was supposed to be something.

But the house is quiet. Too quiet.

You stop in the entryway. No baby noises. No Jack.

“Jack?”

No answer. You walk into the living room. Empty. No baby babe. No clatter of toys. No Jack.

Then you see the note. Scribbled on a page from a prescription pad, resting on the coffee table:

“Robby and Collins picked him up. Just for a few hours. Come upstairs.”

Your chest tightens.

You move slowly, guarded. You haven’t climbed these steps without your heart in your throat in weeks.

But then you reach the top—and the bedroom door is cracked open.

Candles. Soft music playing on your old Bluetooth speaker.The bed made—sheets clean, quilt pulled tight. Your favorite bottle of wine on the nightstand, still sealed, in silent acknowledgment you probably won’t want it.

And Jack.

Standing in front of the dresser. Wearing the shirt he wore the night he proposed, sleeves rolled up like he’s ready for a fight.. Nervous. Pale. Eyes rimmed red like he hasn’t slept. He turns when he hears you step in. 

“I know I don’t deserve a chance. I know I waited too long. But I didn’t want today to go by like this.”

You don’t say anything yet. He gestures at the room—at the awkward attempt at intimacy, at effort, at something.

“I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t even know if we can. But I thought maybe if I could just stop time for a minute, just us—without the fights, or the hospital, or the weight of what we’ve done to each other—maybe we could just remember.”

He swallows. Hard. You can see his hands shaking.

“Please don’t walk away from this without letting me try.”

You stand there. Breath caught. So many things to say, none of them safe.The room is silent again. Except now, for the first time in weeks, it’s not angry silence. It’s something else. Your throat is thick and your eyes sting and your knees feel like they might give out, and for the first time in months, you see him. Not just Jack the co-parent. Not just Jack the stranger sleeping next to you.

You see your Jack.

The one who used to trace circles on your back at 2 a.m. The one who held your hand through contractions and cried harder than you did when your son was born. The one who fucked everything up and knows it.

You take a step inside. Then another. And Jack doesn’t move—not yet—but his eyes stay on yours like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

You reach out. Just lightly. Fingers brushing the side of his shirt.

He breathes in sharp—like even your touch hurts now, like he doesn’t think he deserves it.

“I’m still so mad. And I still don’t trust this version of you. And I don’t know if we can make it.”

His jaw tenses. Nods. He whispers, “I know.”

“But I want to. I want to at least try.”

His eyes drop. You place your palm flat against his chest.

“I miss you Jack. And I hate how much I miss you. I need us back. But not if it means pretending this didn’t break us. I need us to start from here. From this.”

Jack’s breath hitches. Hands trembling as they reach for yours. He opens his mouth to speak but, you cut him off, stepping even closer to him.

“I really fucking miss you, Jack. I still want you.”

His eyes flash. “I never stopped wanting you. Even when I hated myself.”

And the space that was between you was gone.

He grabs your face like he’s drowning and you’re air. You kiss him hard, teeth clicking, mouths crashing—months of silence and grief and fury all unraveling between lips that remember too much.

He gently pushes you on to the edge of the bed. 

“You know this won’t fix anything?”

He uses his knee to part your legs and stand in between them.

“Of course not. Nothing will. You’ll never fucking let go.”

“You checked out. And now you want to play house like none of it happened?"

"I wanted to disappear. I couldn’t breathe with you looking at me like I ruined your goddamn life."

"You did. You ruined everything."

His eyes go dark as he stands directly above you, panting already.

"Then hate me. Fucking hate me. But don’t pretend you don’t want this." He wraps his hands around your neck.

“You still want this?”

“You want me to show you?” he growled. “You want to see how much I fucking want you?”

Your heart was pounding in your throat. “Yeah. I do.”

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was punishing. Teeth and tongue and bruised lips, months of swallowed arguments and half-hearted apologies spilling out all at once.

His hands roam boldly, sliding under your shirt, fingers skimming over the soft skin of your ribs, down to the curve of your waist. He pauses there, thumbs pressing into your back, pulling you flush against him.

Jack’s fingers work fast, unclasping your bra with practiced ease, and his mouth drops to your collarbone. His teeth nip gently, and you gasp, breath hitching as his tongue flicks over a sensitive spot behind your ear.

The contrast of his warm mouth on your cool skin makes your head fall back, exposing your throat to his hungry kisses. His hands roam lower now, fingers trailing down the curve of your hips, pressing firmly into your flesh, anchoring you to him.

He peels your shirt off with a rough tug, revealing your bare stomach, the skin flushed pink from his touch. His hands explore every inch—tracing the hollow of your waist, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over taut nipples that harden under his attention.

His fingers slip between your legs, finding the slick heat already pooling there. Slow, teasing strokes, circling, pressing just enough to make your breath catch. “You like fighting with me?” he asks, voice low, dangerous. “You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered against your neck, biting just hard enough to make you gasp. 

You glared down at him. “I like when you act like you want me.”

His eyes met yours—dark, seething, and full of something else. Something raw. “Oh, I fucking want you. You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you.”

He takes his time, worshipping you with slow, deliberate kisses, the wet heat of his tongue sending tremors through your core. His hands hold your thighs apart firmly, pressing you open for him. You writhed, fingers threading into his curls, already falling apart.

You come fast and hard, a trembling gasp and shudder that leaves you breathless and begging. But Jack doesn’t stop. His mouth trails up your body, kisses brushing over your stomach, chest, and finally back to your lips — tasting you, claiming you.

“Get on your knees.” He commands, voice husky.

He fumbled with his belt, yanking his pants down, and you reached for him—fisting his cock, already hard and leaking for you.

“Come on babygirl, I need to feel the back of that fucking throat.”

Your tongue flicks out, tracing the vein that pulses with every heartbeat. You take him in slowly at first, tasting the salty precum, the heat slick and inviting. His breath hitches, deep and ragged, as your lips slide down, hollowing your cheeks, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head.

Jack’s fingers tighten in your hair, anchoring you, guiding you. You suck gently, then faster, lips moving in a slow, sinful rhythm that sets both of you on fire.

You wrap your hands around his thighs, feeling the hard muscle tense under your touch. His hips shift forward, pressing into your mouth, and you take as much as he offers, gagging lightly, but eager to please, to show him how much you want him.

He groans—a low, guttural sound that vibrates through his chest and into your bones. The sound sends shivers racing through your spine.

“God, you’re so fucking good at this,” he pants, voice thick with need.

He pulls back just enough to look down at you—eyes dark, wild, filled with a hunger that mirrors your own. His hand slides from your hair down to your cheek, thumb brushing softly over your flushed skin.

“Get up.” You obeyed. 

His hips press against yours, the heat of his body igniting every nerve ending.

Slowly, he pushes inside you, filling you completely. Your breath catches, chest rising and falling as the sensation overwhelms you.

He pulls out just a fraction, then thrusts in deep again—steady, unrelenting. Each movement is precise and powerful, driving straight to the core of your desire.

You bite down on your bottom lip to keep from crying out. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room—their rhythm a raw, unfiltered conversation between two bodies desperate to reconnect.

Jack’s hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging in as he sets a brutal pace. His breath is hot against your neck, words swallowed by ragged gasps and groans.

“Say it,” he hisses, voice dark with need. “Say you’re mine.”

You don’t have to think. The words fall from your lips like a prayer, breathless and raw: “I’m yours.”

He shifted, sitting up on his knees, dragging your hips up with him so he could watch himself disappear inside you over and over again. “You been fighting me for months, just to get filled like this, huh? That it, babygirl?”

Your voice broke. “Yes—fuck, Jack—don’t stop—”

He leaned down again, kissed you hard, held your face with one hand, your hip with the other, and slowed just enough to drive you insane. You clawed at his back, pulling him closer.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “Cum with me. I need to feel you fall apart on me.”

Locked your eyes with his and let it hit—hard, fast, shattering.

You convulsed around him, sobbing his name, shaking under him.

Jack came with a strangled moan, spilling inside you, hips still thrusting as he rode it out.

The aftermath was silent but heavy.

He didn’t pull out. Just collapsed over you, chest heaving, arms trembling from the strain. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tight, legs still tangled.

Your voice cracked. “We’re a mess.”

He laughed quietly against your collarbone. “Yeah. But you’re my mess.”

After a long moment, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him until you were curled against his chest. He kissed your temple.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

You buried your face in his neck. “I’m sorry too.”

A long beat.

He pulled the blanket over both of you and whispered against your hair, “Happy anniversary babygirl.”

You smiled against his skin. “Happy anniversary, Jack.”

He laughed. You kissed him again—slow, soft, no fight left in it.

Just love. And the kind of heat that only comes from knowing each other inside and out—rage and all.

———————————————————————

20 Weeks Later

You sit at the edge of the break room table, shoulders hunched like you’re carrying the weight of the world. Your voice is barely more than a whisper, fragile as glass.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you say, “Jack… he’s here, but he’s not really here. When I try to say anything important, he just shuts down. Like I’m invisible. Like none of this matters anymore.”

Langdon is silent, watching you with that look—the one that says he knows but doesn’t want to hurt you more.

“We don’t fight. Not really. We don’t argue or scream. Instead, we have sex. Too much of it honestly. It’s the only thing left that even feels like a connection.” Your voice breaks, a quiet sob catching in your throat. “But it’s empty. Hollow. Like trying to hold water in my hands. It doesn’t fix anything. It just... reminds me how far gone we are.”

Your fingers tremble as you pull at the sleeve of your scrubs. “I’m so tired, Langdon. So scared. Because every time I look at him, I wonder if he’s already given up on us, on me.” You close your eyes for a moment, swallowing hard. “I’m scared I’m holding onto a ghost.”

Langdon’s hand finds yours, warm and steady. “You don’t deserve this,” he says softly.

“I just want to be loved — truly loved — and not be afraid every time I reach out that he’ll disappear all over again.”

The quiet stretches. You feel utterly alone in a room full of people.

Langdon’s voice is barely above a whisper, “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You nod, but the hollow ache in your chest feels endless.

——————————————————————— 

24 Weeks Later - Working Together 

You’re exhausted. Not just from the patients or the hours—but from pretending you’re okay. Pretending your marriage is still whole. Your shift is about to start but, you left your badge in the car and ran outside to find it.

That’s when you see him. Jack.

Standing just off to the side, half in shadow. Wearing that faint smirk he doesn’t know he has. And standing in front of him—maybe mid-20s, stylish jacket, glossy hair pulled up into a high ponytail—is a woman laughing a little too hard at something he said.

You slow. Stop. Watch.

She touches his arm lightly when she laughs again. A touch that lingers just a second too long.

Jack doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t say he’s married. Doesn’t mention you.

Your stomach turns. Not rage. Not jealousy. Something worse. Something hollow and sharp and old.You can’t hear what they’re saying. But the body language says enough. She leans in. He’s not exactly leaning back.

You swallow hard and start walking again. Not toward them. Past them.

But Jack sees you. Mid-laugh, his eyes catch yours—and for a second, his face falls. Just a flicker. Like he’s been caught doing something shameful.

She follows his gaze, glancing over her shoulder at you, then back at him. “That one of your coworkers?”

Jack hesitates. Just a beat too long. “Yeah,” he says. “That’s actually my wife. The mother of my son."

“Oh, power couple huh?”

“Excuse me for a second.”

You keep walking. You don’t wait. You don’t stop. But you hear his voice call out behind you. “Hey—hey, wait—”

You don’t. You just push through the parking lot, heart in your throat, pulse pounding in your ears.

It wasn’t cheating. Not technically. Nothing happened. But you know what you saw. Jack catches up to you just before you reach your car.

“Hey—wait.” His voice is too calm for how fast he’s moving. Like he knows he should sound casual. Like he knows he shouldn’t sound guilty.

You don’t stop. Just open the door and grab your badge.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

You finally turn. Slowly. Your face is blank, but your eyes—your eyes are wildfire. Not yelling. Not crying. Worse than that: quiet. Controlled. Dangerous.

“I wasn’t aware I needed to stay and wait while you flirted with someone.” you say.

Jack scoffs. “Are you kidding me? Her dad was admitted last night, she was just telling me how he’s doing now.”

“She touched your arm,” you snap, “twice. You didn’t move. You smiled at her like she made your night.”

Jack’s jaw tightens. “I’m allowed to be polite.”

“No. You’re allowed to be present. With me. Which you haven’t been for weeks unless I’m on my knees or naked.”

His expression hardens. “So this is about sex now?”

“This is about everything, Jack,” you say, voice low but shaking, "This is about how I have to go to Langdon just to feel heard. How you shut down every conversation unless it ends with you inside of me.”

He laughs under his breath, a bitter sound. “You act like I’m the only one who shuts down. You don’t exactly run toward the hard conversations either.”

“Because I can’t reach you,” you fire back. “And you know it. Every time I try, you dodge or distract or fuck your way out of it. And I blame myself to because I let you.”

The silence between you crackles. Heavy. Full of words neither of you can say without risking collapse.

Jack rubs the back of his neck. “So what, now I’m cheating because I didn’t push someone’s hand off my arm?”

You exhale sharply, trying not to shake. “You didn’t cheat. But you hesitated. And that’s enough.”

Jack takes a step closer, voice softer. “You don’t really believe I’d do that. You know me better than that.”

You shake your head. “I thought I did.”

That lands.

Jack’s face twists like you punched him. But you don’t take it back. You can’t.

———————————————————————

The Next Morning - After Shift 

The hum of the vending machine is the only sound in the break room. You sit, waiting for Jack to finish handoff so you can go home.

Langdon comes in, ready to start his shift. His first stop, the coffee machine, as usual. “What happened to you kid?”

 You finally speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “I saw him outside. Jack. Talking to another woman, the daughter of one of his patients.”

Langdon says nothing. Just waits.

You swallow hard. “She was laughing. Touching his arm. He didn’t move. He didn’t even look uncomfortable.” You force a breath. “He looked…flattered almost.”

Langdon’s brow furrows, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“I don’t think he did anything wrong. Not technically. But that’s what makes it worse, you know?” You finally look up, eyes red. “He hesitated. She asked if he knew me, it was almost like he didn’t want her to know he’s married.”

Langdon’s jaw clenches. “I’m sorry.”

You nod once, staring at the table. “It’s not about her. I don’t care about her. It’s about the fact that I felt more like a stranger than a wife when I saw them together.”

Langdon leans forward. “Have you told him how that made you feel?”

You give a hollow laugh. “No, thought we were going to scream at each other in the parking lot last night. I walked away before someone needed to call security.”

Langdon’s expression softens. “That’s not love. Not the kind you deserve.”

“I know,” You blink fast, trying not to cry. “Sometimes I think maybe he’s already gone and I’m just the only one who hasn’t left yet.”

Langdon is quiet for a long time. Then he says, carefully, “You’re not crazy for needing more. For needing something real. Jack’s not a bad guy, but he’s broken. And he’s dragging you down with him.”

You close your eyes. “I don’t want to give up.”

“I’m not telling you to,” he says gently. “But don’t forget yourself in this. Don’t disappear just to keep him.”

You nod slowly, the ache in your chest blooming all over again. “Thanks, Lang.”

He squeezes your hand. “I’ve got you. Always.”

And for a moment, you let yourself believe it.

———————————————————————

The Morning Drive Home

The car ride is quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that presses in from all sides. Jack drives with one hand on the wheel, the other drumming restlessly against his thigh. You sit beside him, arms crossed, gaze fixed out the window. The radio plays something low and forgettable.

Finally, he breaks. “You gonna say anything?”

You don’t turn to him. “About what?”

His voice sharpens. “Don’t do that.”

Your jaw tightens. “Do what, Jack? Be quiet? I thought you liked that version of me.”

He exhales hard, gripping the steering wheel. “Jesus. Are we seriously back here again?”

You turn now, slowly. “We never left.”

His mouth opens, then closes. He shakes his head. “You know what? Say it. Whatever it is you’re dying to get out, just say it.”

You lean toward him slightly. “I don’t trust you.”

That lands hard. His knuckles go white on the wheel.

“You don’t trust me?” he says, incredulous. “Over what? A conversation outside the hospital?”

“She touched you,” you snap. “You smiled at her. And when she asked about me, you paused. Like you had to decide.”

Jack slams his palm against the steering wheel. “A split second. You’re blowing it up because you’re pissed at me for everything else.”

You laugh, humorless. “No, Jack. I’m pissed because I haven’t seen you in months. The real you. And when I finally did, it was from twenty feet away while some girl ran her fingers down your arm like she had a chance.”

“Nothing happened.”

“It’s not about what happened!” you shout, louder than you meant to. “It’s about what keeps not happening. You don’t talk to me. You don’t see me. Unless I’m naked and begging you to.”

He pulls into the driveway too fast, jerking the car into park.

You’re out of the car first, slamming the door hard behind you.

Inside the house, neither of you bother taking off your shoes. The air between you is thick, static with everything unsaid.

Jack rounds on you as soon as the door shuts. “So what, you just assume I want someone else now?”

“I assume you don’t want me,” you fire back. “Not really. You want the version of me that doesn’t cry. That doesn’t need anything. That moans instead of talks.”

He steps closer. “You think I don’t want you? You think I haven’t been crawling out of my skin trying to keep us together?”

You scoff. “All you’ve done is fuck the cracks shut.”

Silence. Breathless. Charged.

Jack’s eyes are dark, jaw tight, hands balled into fists at his sides. “What do you want from me?” he growls.

You take a step forward, voice low, trembling. “I want to matter.”

That’s the moment everything tilts.

He grabs you like he’s drowning, like you’re both falling. Your mouths crash together—furious, aching. He presses you up against the wall, hands in your hair, teeth grazing your jaw.

It’s not gentle. It’s not tender. It’s desperate. Like the only way either of you knows how to speak anymore is with skin and pressure and bruises left behind.

You claw at his shirt. He lifts you like he’s done it a hundred times before—because he has. Because this is familiar. Predictable.

He groans, low and ragged, and lifts you like it’s muscle memory, your legs wrapping around his waist as he stumbles toward the couch. 

You hit the cushions hard, his weight following, pressing you down. His shirt is gone now, torn off in a frenzy, and your hands roam the familiar planes of his back, tracing scars and muscle you’ve memorized over years. 

But it’s different this time. Every touch is laced with something sharp—grief, maybe, or the fear that this is all you have left. His fingers fumble with your scrub top, shoving it up, and the air hits your skin like a shock.

His mouth follows, hot and urgent, grazing your collarbone, your ribs, as if he’s mapping you, trying to remember.

You claw at his back, nails digging deep into muscle and scar, desperate to feel something real, something raw. Your breath hitches as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, cool air shocking your overheated skin as he shoves them down, baring you completely.

His fingers don’t hesitate. They press inside you, slow and teasing at first, circling with sharp intent, coaxing a moan from your throat that sounds more like pain than pleasure. You bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from crying out.

“Fuck,” he growls, his voice thick and rough. “You’re so fucking tight. So damn wet. I need to be inside of you right now.”

Then he’s moving—his pants and boxers gone faster then you can blink. He undress you in one solid move and positions himself on top of you.

He pushes inside you hard and fast, hips slamming against yours with brutal urgency. No gentleness, no softness. Just harsh, relentless need.

You cry out, part shock, part release, your body arching up to meet him, muscles clenched tight around him as if holding on for dear life. The air around you thick with the sounds of skin slapping skin, ragged breathing, and the desperate, angry mix of frustration and desire that you both refuse to say out loud.

“You think this is just sex?” Jack hisses, teeth clenched, eyes blazing as he thrusts deeper. “This is everything we’re not saying. Every goddamn fight, every silent night, every lonely morning.”

You don’t answer with words—your body is the only language you have now. Nails digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer, lips parted in gasps and cries as you meet every brutal thrust with your own desperate hunger.

His hands grip your hips, bruising the skin as he pounds into you harder, faster, his voice dropping into a ragged growl. “You want me to hurt you? To tear you apart? Because that’s all I’m good at these days.”

You shake your head, breath coming in broken bursts. You can’t speak. 

Your whole body trembles, tears stinging your eyes, the heat of it crashing over you like a wave.

Jack follows moments later, muscles spasming as he spills inside you, groaning your name in a way that’s both fierce and pleading. The tension that held you both taut finally snaps, and the silence that follows is heavy, thick with everything unsaid.

Lying tangled on the couch, sweat still cooling on your skin, your breaths mingling in the heavy quiet, Jack’s eyes flutter open. His gaze drifts over you for a moment — softening, searching — before a sharp flicker of something else crosses his face.

He sits up slowly, the heat between you replaced by sudden tension. His hand runs through his damp hair, voice rough as he breaks the silence.

“Wait, we have to go pick up Jack.”

You blink, the question catching you off guard. “He was going to stay with Robby and Collins until tomorrow after our shift.”

Jack’s jaw tightens. “I know, I just- I need to see him.”

You sit up too, the weight of the morning pressing down again. “We can get him now but, he’ll be in daycare at the hospital tonight then.”

Jack stands, running a hand over his face, frustration and exhaustion mixing. “Yeah, that’s fine, I don’t see a problem with that.”

You reach out, grabbing his arm gently. “I’ll just go and get him then.”

He shakes his head, determination sparking in his eyes. “You’re going alone?”

“Yeah,” he mutters. “I’ve got this.” You put your clothes back on and grab the keys. You’re out the door before he can stop you.

The fight between you momentarily paused — until the next time life pulls you back under.

———————————————————————

That Night - Work

You sit at the small table, elbow on the surface, chin resting in your palm. You’re staring blankly into your untouched cup of coffee, like maybe it’ll give you answers you haven’t found anywhere else.

Langdon closes the door behind him and leans against the counter. He doesn’t say anything at first. He should be going home but, he knows something’s wrong.

Langdon nods, cautious. “You guys actually talk about it yet?”

A humorless laugh escapes you. “Besides for me confronting him right after? No, of course not. Almost turned into a fight when we got home but”, you shook your head, “We had sex. That’s what we do now. We fight and then act like nothing’s wrong in bed. Or maybe we both pretend that’s the talking part.”

Langdon’s face tightens. “You guys are like two horny teenagers.”

You nod, slowly. “Yeah. I know. I think its the only thing that makes us feel close, even if it is just physical and nothing more.”

“Where is he anyway?”

“Dropping baby Jack off at daycare.”

“Thought Robby and Collins watch him while you guys are here if they’re off?”

“Yeah, they usual do. But after we had sex he just needed to see him. It’s like he's the only thing holding us together.”

Outside the break room, Jack’s hand freezes on the door handle. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop—he just came looking for you. But your voice, low and tired, stops him cold.

“I keep trying to convince myself it didn’t mean anything yesterday. That she didn’t mean anything,” you continue, voice breaking a little. “But it wasn’t about her. It was about the way he smiled. Like she reminded him he still had something left to offer. And I haven’t seen that smile in months. Not around me.”

Langdon’s voice is quiet. “You think he’s checked out?”

You hesitate. “I don’t know,” you say carefully, “that I’ve been waiting for him to come back. And I’m starting to realize he might already be gone.”

Jack exhales sharply on the other side of the door, like the wind’s been knocked out of him.

Inside, Langdon crosses the room and sits across from you. “You still love him?”

You look up, eyes glassy. “I always will. But I don’t know if he sees me anymore. Or if he even wants to.”

“You ever tell him that?”

You shake your head. “Every time I try, I lose him behind that wall he puts up. And I can’t always be the one breaking through it. I’m tired, Lang. I’m so tired of needing more than he’s willing to give.”

Langdon reaches across the table and gently squeezes your hand. “You deserve to be seen. Loved out loud. Not in silence. Not just in bed.”

You nod, blinking quickly, but the pain in your chest is sharp and unmoving.

Jack steps back from the door like he’s been burned, shame etched into every movement. He doesn’t come in. He doesn’t knock. He just stands there—crushed by words that weren’t meant for him, and somehow more honest because of it.

Inside, you sigh.

“I miss him,” you whisper. “I just don’t know if he’s ever coming back.”

And Jack, for the first time in months, feels exactly how far he's drifted from you.

—————————————————————

That Night 3 A.M.

The night hit a lull and you needed some air. Outside, you found the bench in the ambulance bay to compose yourself. Sitting on the edge of an unused stretcher, head in your hands. The weight of the last few weeks—maybe months—pressing down so hard you can barely breathe.

Footsteps approach. Slow. You don’t look up until he’s right in front of you.

Jack. Still wearing that tired, guarded expression he’s had for weeks. But his voice is different. Quiet. Careful.

“Can I sit?”

You shrug. It’s not a yes, but it’s not a no.

He eases down beside you, arms resting on his knees. You both stare ahead for a moment. Same direction. Different planets.

Then, softly— “I heard what you said to Langdon this morning.”

You stiffen.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he adds quickly. “I came looking for you and I just—stood outside the door. I didn’t know if me coming in would actually be helpful.”

You wait. You don’t help him.

He exhales. Rough. Like it costs him something.

“You’re right. About everything. I shut down. I made sex into a shortcut because it was the only place I didn’t feel like I was failing. It was the only place I still knew how to reach you. I thought if I could keep touching you, maybe you wouldn’t realize how much I’ve been disappearing.”

Your eyes sting. You don’t speak.

“You’d come to me—needing something real—and I’d shut you out. Because hearing how much I was hurting you made me feel like I was already too late. So I avoided it. I avoided you.”

His voice is thick now. Raw.

“But I was still here. Watching you drift further away. And I hated myself more every time.”

You glance over. He’s not crying. But his jaw is tight. His hands are clenched between his knees.

“I never stopped loving you,” he says. “Not for a second. But I got lost. And instead of reaching for you, I hid. And now you’re right—there’s this wall between us, and I don’t know how to get over it.”

You whisper, “So why now? Why say this now?”

Jack looks at you, finally meeting your eyes.

“Because I can’t get the look on your face when you saw me with her yesterday moning. I wasn’t flirting—I swear I wasn’t—but I saw the way it hit you. And it broke something in me.”

He leans in, voice barely a breath: “You thought I’d already moved on. That I could be that guy. And it made me realize I’ve been so absent, I stopped earning the right for you to believe in me.”

You blink fast. His words settle like splinters in your chest.

“I want to make it right,” he says. “Not with sex. Not with flowers. With the ugly stuff. With the work. We can go to counseling. I’ll talk when I want to shut down. I’ll sit in the fire with you if that’s what it takes. Just… please don’t give up on me.”

Silence stretches. Heavy.  Your voice, when it comes, is soft. Barely there.

“I don’t need you to be perfect, Jack. I just need to know you still want to fight for us.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.

“I do,” he whispers. “God, I do.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat.

And when he reaches for your hand—tentatively, gently—you let him. Just for a moment.

Not because everything is fixed.

But because maybe—finally—it could be.

—————————————————————

One Week Later

The warm scent of garlic and onions sizzles softly in the pan as Jack stirs dinner. The clink of utensils and soft bubbling fills the space.

Across the kitchen island, baby Jack coos happily in his high chair, fingers exploring the edges of a soft toy. His wide eyes follow Jack’s every move, a small smile lighting up his face.

You step into the kitchen, footsteps hesitant, face blank — like you’re carrying a secret too heavy to hold close. Jack looks up from the stove, brows knitting with concern.

“Hey,” he says gently. “You alright?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you reach into your pocket and place something carefully on the counter — a small white plastic stick, the kind you never expected to see again.

Jack’s eyes follow your movement, locking onto the pregnancy test. His hand stills mid-stir.

For a long moment, silence hangs between you, thick and charged. You take a slow step back, avoiding his gaze, the weight of the moment settling like a stone in the room.

Jack’s hand trembles slightly as he sets the spatula down, eyes locked on the small stick on the counter. The unmistakable two pink lines glowing back at him.

“Is- is this real?” His voice is barely more than a whisper.

You swallow hard, still avoiding his gaze. “It’s positive,” you say quietly. “I took two.” You take the other test out and lay them side by side. “Both positive.”

The baby babbles happily in his high chair, oblivious to the tension rippling through the room.

Jack runs a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders shifting from frustration to something else—something fragile, raw.

After a long pause, he finally speaks, voice low and tentative, “I don’t know what to say.”

You shrug, the tension tightening your chest like a vise. “Neither do I. I wasn’t expecting this.”

He moves closer, his hand now steady on your arm, grounding. “Are you scared?”

You nod, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. “Terrified. And hopeful? Confused? I don’t know.”

Jack swallows hard, jaw clenched, then drops his hand, running it through his hair again. “We’ve been so broken lately.”

You finally meet his eyes. “Yeah.”

“But maybe…” His voice softens. “Maybe this is a chance. To fix things. Or at least try.”

You stare at him, searching his face for something — hope, fear, love, regret — and find it all tangled there.

“I want to believe that,” you whisper. “But it’s going to take more than a baby to fix us.”

Jack nods slowly, the reality settling in like a fragile promise. “Then let’s take it one day at a time. For him. For us.”

The baby gurgles from across the island, a tiny reminder of what they already have — and what this new life could mean.

You take a deep breath, and for the first time that day, a small, shaky smile crosses your lips.

“Okay,” you say. “One day at a time.”

Jack reaches out again, this time not hesitating. His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining, grounding you both.

In that quiet kitchen, surrounded by uncertainty, maybe, just maybe, this is a start. 

-----------------------------------------

I wrote this like 2 weeks ago and just never finish it because I got too focused on playing The Last of Us Part 2 before show finished. Hope you guys enjoy this part! Let me know what you think and if anyone would like a next chapter!

[jjoongiesbetter]

✎ᝰ. mon's ateez fic recommendations (part 1)!

mdni!

│hi there! i haven't read much lately so the first part came across as a bit shorter than i expected but the next ones will surely be longer!

— as a writer myself, i just wanted to take a moment to thank all the authors for sharing such incredible writing, your hard work is truly appreciated! thank you for sharing your writing with us! ♡

──────── ♡⸝⸝

⤷ kim hongjoong x reader

♡┆ugh, as if by @ennysbookstore; the whole mini-series is just amazing and i enjoyed each part a lot! once i started i couldn't stop reading! loved how well hongjoong was written! the build-up of the first part was top-notch! and the character development... i should thank the author on my knees for writing this masterpiece. one of the best authors out there! definitely will read again!

♡┆swapped by @daisykihannie; the prompt is just so fun and interesting, one of the most creative ones i stumbled across! i haven't read something like this before. enjoyed it very very much!

♡┆punching bag by @mulloey; i must admit it was so just so undeniably hot, angry hongjoong and also so well-written! you will find me re-reading it an unholy amount of times.

♡┆clumsy hearts, steady love by @edenesth; WHAT IF I TELL YOU I CRIED? i already commented on this one on my main but im going to repeat myself! incredibly written, hongjoong suits the concept so well, my heart hurt a bit while reading but it's hongjoong, of course, i forgive him. somehow still very cute.

⤷ jeong yunho x reader

♡┆active recovery by @k-hotchoisan; y'all so i was always so shy about commenting on smut but tbh don't we all read it? author killed it yet again! got me hot, bothered and i am starting to consider a gym subscription!

♡┆the drill by @byuntrash101; look i know this one was posted last year, and i am so mad for not reading it sooner😭 i loved the storyline, wooyoung as a side character was just so funny, yunho without rizz altered my brain chemistry. i can't lie i was thinking about this fic for days after i read it! it's the perfect blend of fun and smut.

♡┆private lessons by @bombuni; i must admit i love professor yunho and it is always a pleasure finding and reading such fics, especially when it's as good as this one! (would love to see a part two one day)

♡┆muffled by @desirehorizon; the plot!!! the writing!!! the smut!!! and it was funny too!!! what more can i want? perfect!! imma say it once again but i enjoyed every word of this fic!!! can't wait to read more from the author!

⤷ song mingi x reader

♡┆still your biggest fan by @byuntrash101; good god it was just so incredibly hot, we need to appreciate the idea because it surely is creative! who doesn't just love teasing mingi? let's agree that we all do.

♡┆sour candy by @0097linersb; loved the idea🙂‍↕️ needy mingi is my favorite mingi, it was very very hot. you better find the time and read it!

⤷ choi jongho x reader

♡┆minor nuisance by @everyonewooeverywhere; i tell you they are in love love! trust me, you definitely need to read this one! jongho was just so sweet, a great fluff/smut combo and now i need jongho in my life even more :(

♡┆freestyle lap by @bro-atz; we all should know by now that bro is just simply one of the best when it comes to smut and they never, never disappoint. i definitely needed to read this one after i saw that pool jongho pics. if you haven't read it yet, what are you even doing?

♡┆falling and sleeping by @seonghwaddict; it was posted earlier this year but i just had to include it :( it was just utterly cute, jongho is adorable. well-written, and melted my poor heart.

multiple members:

⤷ choi jongho x kang yeosang x reader

♡┆the post show high by @bombuni; i must shamelessly admit while reading it i felt like the author somehow got into my brain and just picked one of my fantasies, hope it's not tmi. so saying i loved it it's an understatement! one of my favorite authors for real!

pairings:

⤷ kim hongjoong x jeong yunho (hohong)

ao3 ♡┆darling, you will bury me (before i bury you) by SunshineAndRayne; cute cute cute! i loved every letter of it, yunho is so whipped and i am living for it!

ao3 ♡┆waiting for you by marspacz; i absolutely loved this one so much! my heart needed this, had me smiling the entire time i was reading! and then the shotgun scene—damn, that was hot!

[jacaerysgf]

Always together

r.q: hi lovlie, hope your doing well :) I was wondering if you would consider a jacaerys x starkreader? were there parents sent them to live with rhaenyra as child to learn. there they meet jace and become super close. but then driftmark happens and there sent back north. (jace isn't happy abt this and begs his mother to let them stay.) years, years later jace is sent north to remind cregan (your brother) of there oath to rhaenyra. and he sees you there and is awstruck, like heart eyes and everything. just lots of fluff and maybe a smut if thats okay💗🫶🏻🫶🏻💗

w.c: 6.2k

c.w: porn with a lot of plot like barely any smut tbh, a lot of fluff, mainly young jacaerys and young stark, vermax apperances, aegon is an ass for like one scene, p in v, fingering (f!receiving), mutual pining, worries abour the future, not proofread

a.n: can you tell how much i love jacaerys <3 🫶

You were no more than seven when you first stepped foot in the red keep. You had been exhausted, it had taken you a full moon cycle to make it to king's landing. Without the comforts of your older brother or your parents it was the first time in your life you had been alone without your family and anytime you hadn't been sleeping you were probably crying. You missed them, your mother, your father but most of all your older brother.

‘I will miss you brother.” you press your head into his shoulder, already wet from the tears you had been weeping into it. He pulled you away from him, hands on your shoulders, he attempted to look strong and firm but you could see the teary glaze over his eyes. ‘I shall visit you i promise’ you sniff as he brings his hands to your cheeks and wipes away your tears, ‘you mean it?’

‘i do. And should anything happen to you I will ride out at first light and bring you back home.’ Despite being only a couple years older he always tried to act tough and he truly meant what he said, he even got on horseback and trailed behind the carriage you were in until he could not travel any further.

Your most trusted handmaiden, Eliza, was doing her best to make you look presentable as you were approaching closer and closer to the keep. “You must remember-” “i know you have told me a million times i must be proper i must bow i must refer to them correctly and i must not overstep.” “And you must train hard, girl. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity that many would kill to get.”

You are quiet and stay quiet up until you are escorted to princess rhaenryas chambers and presented before her. “This is Lady Y/N Stark, your grace.’ you bow as low as you can go and fold your hands in front of you. “I am pleased to meet you, your grace, I must thank you for the opportunity to do this. I shall train hard.”

“Looks like she does not need your training. She is a righteous girl already.” rhaenyra slaps the man standing next to her on the arm before smiling at you. “I am pleased to meet you y/n, please ignore my husband ser laenor,” the man smiles at you and dips his head in greeting which you do back, “and my sons, jacaerys and lucerys.” she gestures with her hand to the two boys standing next to her. Lucerys who looked a mere year or two younger than you clung to his mothers leg and stared at you. Jacaerys puffed out his chest a bit and firmly nodded at you causing you to chuckle and dip your head to him. He reminded you of your brother when the two of you were a bit younger which brought you a sense of comfort.

“I will have one of the girls show you to your room and allow you to get settled in for a day or two before you begin. The trip here must have been rough.” Soon enough you are escorted out of the room and taken to your room. Your new home in a sense for you had no clue how long. You had thought you would cry as you had been this whole trip but with how kind the family seemed to be you felt as though you would do just fine without your family.

You went to bed soon after arriving and slept into the next day, Eliza had told you she was shocked you had not slept longer due to the long travel. She had gotten you ready for the day there was a firm knock on the door. It had been the lord commander Ser Harwin who had apparently been tasked by lady rhaenyra to show the two of you around the keep. Eliza had quickly finished dressing you for the day, your attire was very different from what you would wear back at home, it was so warm in the keep you had no need for your furs and almost felt naked without them.

The two of you walk out of the room and notice Ser Harwin is chatting with someone next to him. “My prince!” the two of you bow and he nods at you. “Good day.” “I hope you do not mind that he is to accompany us today.” “of course it is of no issue ser.” he smiles down at you, “you are a well spoken girl.” “thank you ser.”

The four of you begin to walk around the keep where ser hawin would point out the different routes and attempt to show you how to get around. The keep was massive. You had no clue how you would be able to remember how to get anywhere. Other than that you noticed how lifelast the place seemed to be, everyone was walking around with bored looks and the place even had a weird smell though you did not comment on it. It was so different from your life at winterfell where most smiled at each other and chatted and did not smell so strange. Harwin and Eliza would chat back and forth while you occasionally added a comment. The prince next to you said nothing, just kept his hand folded behind his back and kept stealing glances at you.

You grew worried that you had done something to upset him as whenever you would look his way he would turn his head away from you. “Did I do something to upset you, my prince?” you ended up asking him while harwin and eliza seemed to be deep in conversation about how many staircases there were and how obnoxious that was. He did not answer for a moment, playing with his hands before he looked you directly in the eyes. “I think you are very pretty.”

You are startled by his answer and look at him alarmed as he immediately looks back down at his feet and kicks at the floor. Harwin and Eliza chuckle as the two of you give each other a knowing glance while you get flustered and gulp before snapping out of your sorry state and reply to him. “Thank you, my prince. You are also very handsome.” does not look up at you but a wide grin falls on his face at your reply.

From that day onwards the two of you are inseparable. Whenever you are not doing your work you watch him train and the two of you spend so much time together you even begin to get invited to their family dinners where the two of you would continue to chat until you would be forced off to bed.

It had been a year into your time with the royal family and they had been more than kind to you. And your brother kept his promise to you, coming down that year for your nameday and promised he would be here for any future ones you do not celebrate in winterfell. Though you missed your family dearly, the family was so kind you barely noticed their absence. The princess especially seemed to put a lot of effort into helping you even after getting pregnant for the third time. You had just finished up for the day as you hear your name being called down the hall and smile as you turn already knowing who it is. “Jace what is it?” He had begged you to call him by his name and reluctantly you agreed after a couple months of being there and soon enough you began to call him Jace feeling all too comfortable with the prince. “You must come with me y/n.” he grabs your hand and begins to walk you down the hallway with him. “Where are we going jace?” “to the dragonpit you are to meet vermax.” “Your dragon, are you mad?” you attempt to pull your hand away from but he keeps a firm grip and continues to march his way to the pit with you at his side. “It is the task to show that I can properly introduce vermax to someone without him freaking out.” “And are you confident you can do this? What if I get burned to a crisp by him jacaerys!” “So I am jacaerys now?” “when you are attempting to lead me to my death i will call you whatever i please!”

The two of you stop and he grabs your arms, forcing you to look directly at him. “I promise I shall allow you to come to no harm. I swear on it in my life. Don't you believe in me?” he gives you a brave look and seeks an answer from you. You know he would never lead you somewhere where he knew you would be harmed, “i trust you, jace.” he smiles and thanks you as he continues to walk you to the pit.

The maesters greet you as you enter the pit and soon enough you are standing right next to jacaerys gripping his hand for dear life as they begin to lead vermax out.

“You scared pup?” Aegon made a comment beside you and you scoffed at him. “A wolf fears nothing, my prince.” you made an effort to not interact with the hightowers, no more specifically aegon. You had no issues with heleana who was kind to you and someone you would consider a friend though aemond avoided you you also had no issue being kind to him but aegon was a monster whom you avoided at all costs. The other training girls with you had warned you aegon was a bit,, inappropriate. Though due to your younger age they never gave you a firm answer when you asked what they meant.

“Dragons eat wolves, you know?” “but a dragon would have to be sober to take me down, my prince.” he scoffed at you and turned away from you and you miss the small smile on aemonds face as the maesters silence you all and vermax comes into sight. He is beautiful though he snarls at the sight of you and you take a step back gripping onto jacaerys arm. “Do not worry he will not harm you.” he says a couple words in valyrian which you do not understand which seems to calm vermax down and soon enough jacaerys is leading you closer and closer to vermax. You will die. You watch as vermax huffs in your direction, his eyes locked onto you. Jacaerys speaks again and vermax continues to watch you as jace takes one of your hands and guides it up towards vermax. Vermax smells you snarling again and you fear you might begin to cry from your nerves but trust jacaerys he places your hand on top of vermaxs nose. He hums and seems to relax. “Well done jacaerys!” your hand is taken off of vermax who is soon led away and you let out a long breath that you were holding it. “That was terrifying.” “you did well lady stark.” Jacaerys was grinning at you and laced your fingers with his, “I told you i would do it.” “I'm sorry I doubted you, jace.”

In the next year of your training you did not get to meet vermax again thankfully but you and jacaerys continued to spend more time together. As lucerys was no older he also began to accompany the two of you and followed you guys around. Jacaerys called him a pest but you would always hit his arm and tell lucerys that he was more than welcome to join you much to jacaerys dismay. He loved his brother he truly did but he liked getting his alone time with you and you ended up having to promise him you will always like him more than lucerys causing him to smile. You loved him, you were sure about it and it began to worry you though you assured yourself that it would be a problem for future you to worry about.

Your life seemed to be going great. Until the death of lady laena and ser harwin. You comforted jacaerys while he cried into your shoulder. You did your best not to try and only focus on jacaerys who needed you right now. You had heard the rumors, of course you did but you had done your best to avoid them. It did not matter to you if they were true or not though you would be blind to not see the truth in them as jacaerys had begun to develop curls in his hair just as harwin had. Many thought the prince was mourning the loss of lady laena though you knew better than that. And soon enough he was forced to go off to lady laenas funeral and begged his mother to allow you to come but you couldn't as it was a family only affair. You watched him leave with a heavy heart not knowing it would be the last time you see him for a very long time.

You and Eliza instead end up attending Ser harwins funeral where you finally allow yourself to cry over him. You had grown fond of him and he was a truly kind man you could not believe he was gone. The two of you stayed in the area for awhile and had just begun to pack up your things ready to head back to king's landing when you received a letter from princesses rhaenyra stating that the family would not be returning to king's landing and you were dismissed from your services saying you had done well with your training and she wishes the two of you will meet again in the future. All you could do was cry. Cry and cry and cry all the way back to winterfell as you think of jacaerys. You would never see him again, you were sure. It almost killed you to think about. You missed him so much just on the way home that you could not even imagine what it would be like to live your life without him. When you arrive back at winterfell with a celebration you try your best to look happy but all you could do is sob.

Almost over a decade has passed since you had last been in king’s landing, since you had last been in the red keep. Since you had last seen jacaerys. You replay your final moments together in your head often, if only you had known that that would be the last time you saw him you would have done it all differently so many different things you would have said and done. But it is in the past and there is nothing you can do now but mourn the relationship you once had and try your best to move on.

As a woman grows, many men would try and gain your favor, many even bold enough to ask you for your hand but you reject them all, a small hopeful part of you wishing you could be with jacaerys. You know one day you will not be able to avoid it and it scared you thought you were grateful that for now your brother seemed to be in no rush to see you married.

You were doing your tasks as you had everyday, treating today like you always did until Eliza bursted into your room, “eliza!” she rushes towards you and fixes up your hair quickly ignoring your questioning as she grabs your nice furs from your closet and dresses you in them. “Whatever is happening eliza?” She does not answer and instead grabs you and drags you to the main hall where despite your questioning she does not answer and urges you to go stand next to cregan who was also dressed up standing next to your father and you the hall is scrambling making sure everything looks tidy. “Brother what is happening?”

He opens his mouth to answer but immediately shuts it and stands up tall as the doors open.

“Prince jacaerys velaryon!”

Your mouth goes dry as you see him. Standing tall in the middle of the room the prince you had been seeing in your dreams for years was now right in front of you. He was taller and definitely more handsome. He had curls that fell down to his shoulder and he wore a dark outfit. His face is firm and confident. It reminded you of when he tried to look like that years ago but unlike that time now it looked so right on him, like it wasn't some pretend act he was putting on.

You are in a daze and only snap out of it when you feel your brother's hand on your neck and dip you into a bow before pulling you back up. “My prince, it is good to see you once more.” jacaerys nods and seems to grip the scroll in his hand even tighter. “I'm sure you remember my sister y/n.” you notice his eyes go wide and he turns and finally looks at you. “y/n..” he mumbles in shock and takes the steps towards you. The only thing you can hear is the pounding of your heart as he soon stands right in front of you, his eyes darting all over your face, “is it truly you?”

“It is good to see you, my prince.” you resist the urge to call him jacaerys as you had all those years ago. You wish to touch him, lace your fingers with his, cup his face in your hands, anything but you do not. As if he can read your mind he grabs your hands and places a kiss on the back of it. You let out a breath as his hands linger with yours before he drops it down and he takes a step back. You take the moment to glance at your brother who has a smug look on his face which causes you to promptly look away from him.

“We are honored to have you here, my prince. Though this is rather unexpected.”

“I have important matters to discuss with you lord stark, involving the oath you swore to my mother.”

You are dismissed from the room to allow the men to talk though you almost wish to plead to stay so you can bask in jacaerys presence for a bit longer. You do not and are instead left to pace back and forth in the courtyard near the hall as Eliza attempts to urge you to sit down. “You will hurt your feet-” “do you think he remembers me?” “it clearly looked like he remembered you my lady please sit-” “whatever could he possibly be here for, eliza do you think he is betrothed.” “What does that have to do with his visit here?” you groan and run your hands along your face. You had thought you had gotten over him, but once you had seen him you once again felt like a lovesick fool just like when you were a child. He could not possibly be here for you right? No he had mentioned some oath your brother had sworn to his mother. The one thing you hated about winterfell was how hard it was to hear any news about what was going on with the royal family simply for the reason news took far too long to reach winterfell and by the time it did it was old news. You had heard nothing about jacaerys all these years or even the rest of the family. Other than of course the marriage between prince daemon and princess rhaenyra and the death of ser leanor which also pained you dearly. You worried for him.

In your pacing the doors to the hall open and Cregan and jacaerys walk out together with smiles on their faces as they joked around a bit together. Once they shall you they both paused and you watched patiently as Cregan said somethings to jacaerys who nodded before walking away leading jacaerys to come towards you.

“I am told you will show me around?” your brother and his meddling,, though this time you were more than happy and eagerly nodded. You wave away Eliza with that smug grin on her face as you begin to walk him around. Other than the occasional comment from you about where you were, the walk you share is quiet. It feels oddly reminiscent of when harwin has shown you around the keep, with your hands folded in front of you and you can see him glancing at you out of the corner of your eye and he looks away once you look at him.

The two of you now stand in the crypts of winterfell, completely alone so you feel brave enough to tease him “You have not changed.” he laughs and looks at the ground, “or maybe you just make me feel like a young boy again.” feeling bold you lightly place your hand on his forearm causing him to look up at you. “I have missed you, ja- my prince.” as if your words had brought a sense of relief to him he wraps you in a big hug. His head tucked firmly in your neck as he deeply breathed in your neck. “I have missed you more than you know y/n” you two stand there for you have no clue how long, simply basking in each other's presence you do not even notice you begin to cry. “Jacaerys,,,” “I know Issa prūmia. I'm sorry I was so upset to leave you.” you whine as he pulls away from you and cups your face to wipe away your tears. “I begged my mother to send you to Dragonstone, I had no clue how to write to you gods, I was so worried I would never see you again. I had even planned for one day to fly out here myself, I guess my wish came true though I wish it were with better circumstances.”

You sniffle and smile at him. He wanted to contact you, he had dreamed of seeing you the way you had him. He presses his forehead against yours and sighs, still rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks. “Avy jorrāelan” he mumbles to you before he pulls away. You had remembered him mentioning he wanted to become fluent in valyrian and had plans for you to learn alongside him once he began to study but due to the circumstances you never had learned any. You don't ask him what it means though you are curious he would tell you if he wanted to.

“We should continue your tour.”

Suddenly you feel as though you were eight again. Chatting with jacaerys just like when you were younger, showing him around where you grew up and he was more than happy to hear you rant about winterfell. Once the tour is finished you guide him back to the main hall where a feast had been prepared for him. He appeared shocked by this, “you shouldn't have lord stark.” “we have a prince in our mists, we must honor you.” he shakes his head and you laugh. The three of you head to the main table and take a seat. “When you mentioned it earlier I had forgotten to extend my congratulations about the betrothal-” “I am not betrothed.” jacaerys rushed out and looked at cregan alarmed. He took a glance at you as well before looking back at cregan, “I meant your brother.” jacaerys lets out an oh and looks down at the plate in front of him as you try your best not to laugh. “Yes, I am very happy for him, my lord.” “But you are not betrothed? Is there a reason?” you hold your breath as cregan asks the question you had in mind. He pauses for a moment and glances at you once more before looking at cregan. “I,, have had a lady in mind since I was younger though I do not know if she likes me as well or if even her brother would approve.” you look down at your plate and freeze as cregan roars with laughter, you do not even glance up at the two of them as you feel jacaerys stare burn into the side of your head.

he must be talking about you. You are not stupid. Your heart is pounding out of your chest. Despite this being all you have ever wanted it feels so sudden. So you stand up and do not even notice the alarmed faces on cregan and jacaerys face as you rush out of the hall and even out of the walls of winterfell it all feeling so constricting. You run for a while while your head spins. You had just gone from dreaming of seeing the prince again to him basically asking for your brother's permission to wed you? You finally feel as though you are far enough and lean against a tree, your breath rapid as you close your eyes. You do not know how long you stand there, lost in your thoughts but it is certainly long enough for you to clear your head a bit. You loved him. Your time spent together today showed you clearly still did, that time has not changed you or him one bit. More so a part of you was scared of the reality of it, if you were to marry him you would one day be queen. Even the thought of marriage and motherhood terrified you, what of being the wife of the man ruling the seven kingdoms?

You hear a loud snarl and your eyes shoot open and you see a sight you know you haven't seen in over a decade. If you had thought he was big as a child he was truly terrifying now. Vermax stared at you as you were frozen where you stood. Every bone in your body shouted for you to yell but it was like the ground under you had turned into quicksand and you were stuck in your spot.

“Gīda ilagon vermax!” a voice cuts through your thoughts and suddenly jacaerys is standing between you and vermax. “Ziry iksos naejot sagon issa ābrazȳrys, ao jāhor daor ōdrikagon zȳhon” you have no clue what he says but it seems to work and vermax huffs in defeat and deflated to laying down on the floor simply staring at the two of you. Once vermax has settled jace makes his way over to you and cups your face feverishly checking you, “are you alright my lady?” “im okay im okay i promise.” he lets out a sigh of relief and presses your head to his shoulder, pulling you into a hug. He seems so worried and guilt begins to build up in your stomach. “I'm sorry.” “you have nothing to apologize for-” “i should not have run out of the room like that.”

He pauses for a moment, seemingly unsure of what to say as he continues to slowly rub your back. “If what i had said in there made you unforgettable, I'm sorry forget i had even said anything. Please just don't let this ruin the friendship we have built. I will get over it if I must."He's given you an out, you could say you did not feel the same and you would not have to worry about one day being queen or one day having to be a mother to the future heir, but you wanted him. You wanted so desperately to be his wife, “I am scared.” He pulls away from you and holds your face to look at him. “Of what?” “that i will be a bad wife, a bad queen, a bad mother-” “i will not pressure you to say yes but just know i know that you could never be any of those things. You have every right to worry, be nervous of what's to come but dare I tell you I am afraid too. When my mother was on her birthing bed, covered in blood and sweat looking as if she was about to die she had said I will claim any inheritance that she has and it terrified me. Not only for the thoughts of my mother dying but I am no way prepared to be king. But that is what time is for, i shall learn, you shall learn lest you allow it, but just know you are not the only one who is scared. But I will be there for you every step of the way should you want me to.”

You swear you had never seen someone look at you with so much love in their heart as jacaerys had been right this moment. You knew the words he said to you were true, the spoken and unspoken promises he swore to you he would fulfill until the day he died. The unspoken truth, those three simple words. “I love you.” they fall off your lips so easily it is as if you were born to say them, say them to him. And you swear you had never seen him look so happy as he did when he heard you say that, “Avy jorrāelan.” I love you. He had told you that earlier that day. He had always loved you. So when the two of you walked back into the main hall which was dead quiet, everyone including your brother looked upon the two of you eagerly and when jacaerys nodded at cregan the hall erupted into cheers.

The feast quickly turned into a celebration as people came up to congratulate the two of you and many more would have until you announced you would be going to see and jacaerys said he would walk you to your room leading you to dodge the look cregan had on his face.

“You have made me the happiest man in all the realms today, y/n” soon enough the two of you are standing face to face for a while just admiring each other before you take a step back towards the door. “I should head to bed.” “Of course.” Neither of you move to leave, he continues to stare at you and you end up leaning against your room door. “Would,” you pause, contemplating if you truly wish to push your limits like this, but fuck it. “Would you like to come in?” “i shouldn't.” he takes a step closer to you as you open your door and take a step inside he follows you right after, the look on his face unreadable as you smile and step further into the room until you are both in, simply just staring at one another you barely notice he closes the door and takes a long step towards you and pulls you into a heated kiss.

Almost ten years of build up to this moment and it was completely worth it. He cups your jaw and feverishly pushes his lips against yours, your hands grip his hips and he walks you back until you fall back onto your bed with a squeal. You wanted to comment that he could have warned you but he quickly climbs on top of you and continues kissing you. “We shouldn't be doing this.” he mumbles against your lips as he lazily begins to grind his hips into yours and you moan. “You're right we shouldn't.'' Instead of doing anything about it his hands begin to rub up and down your sides as he lips fall down your jaw and begin sloppily sucking on your neck. His thrusts grow quicker and more erratic by the second and your clothes suddenly feel as though they are burning your skin. “Undress me.” He wastes no time pulling and tugging at your dress until he is able to slide it down your body until you are bare before him and he stares at you with wonder. “Gevie” his hands run all over your body as he begins to kiss any inch of skin he can get his hands on, worshiping you as if you were a god sent down to him to bless him. Soon enough you are begging him to do something, though you have no clue what you are begging for, you do not know anything about what goes in bed between a man and a woman other than he sticks his cock in and you come out pregnant as told by your brother when you asked him. He sits up and begins to tug off his clothes, giving you a look of worry. “I am sorry if this will not be good. I do not know what I am doing.” “Neither do I, but we’ll learn together, isn't that what you said?” “It seems I did.” he slides the rest of his clothes off and kisses you once, one of his hands slides down and cups your sex causing you to gasp, “is this alright?” your head begins to spin as he rubs two of his fingers up and down, the squelching sound being covered up by your moan. “It is more than alright.” he has a satisfied look on his face as he continues soon adding another finger, you are so wet at this point you would not be shocked if there was a pool under your legs. If this was sinful than you shall be a sinner for life because you have never felt a greater pleasure than you had right this second.

“Can I put them in you?” “please.” Your plea is desperate as your body begins to crave more from him. He slides a finger in you and he lets out an estranged noise while you continue to moan. “You are so tight.” one finger soon turns into two which turns into three. He cannot get enough of the way you grip his fingers so tightly he believes if he were a weaker man he would not be able to pull them out of you. Though he is not confident, the way you moan, groan and plead for him to do what you are not even sure of and beg for some sort of release encourages him to be bolder, curl his fingers and begin to pump faster. He had never been so unbold, he is usually a very thoughtful man, someone who plans out his moves before doing them, unless he is blinded by rage which happens more than he would like, but with you he loses all his senses and acts in ways he swears he never would have before. He finds himself doing things he is unsure of including trying to pleasure you, though it seems to be working in his favor and you release all over his fingers.

You notice that he seems to be pausing, holding off on taking your maidenhood and you question him. “What if I am no good?” “Then as I said and as you said, we shall learn, together.”

You ignore the nerves you feel as he slowly begins to press into you and it hurts, it hurts like hell but you're sure if you wait it out it will be worth it. He laces his fingers with yours and allows you to grip his hand tightly as he works himself all the way in, “are you alright?” you take many deep breaths once he has fully pushed himself into you, “just give me a moment.” “Take as long as you need.” He kisses your collarbone and neck lightly as if his lips were feathers on your skin as he waits for you to give him the okay.

He hides it well but he is barely containing himself, your walls hugged him so tightly he feared that when you did give him the okay he would not be able to pull himself out of you. He loved you. He loved the way you felt, he loved that troubled look on your face, he loved the way your hands felt in his. He loved you so much he felt he could not breathe. Once you gave him the okay it took him a couple moments to compose himself before he began to move. With every thrust he imagined his future with you, he imagined taking you back to dragonstone to have a traditional Targaryen wedding, he imagined you round with his child who would be his heir, he imagined growing older with you and ruling by your side. Despite his fears about the upcoming war or his future he knew he could do anything as long as you stayed with him. He loves you, and he knew you did too as you allowed him to spill his speed in your and seal your union with a kiss.

Valyrian translations (all made with a translator i have no clue if these are correct)

Issa prūmia - my heart

Avy jorrāelan - i love you

Gīda ilagon - calm down

Ziry iksos naejot sagon issa ābrazȳrys, ao jāhor daor ōdrikagon zȳhon - she is to be my wife you will not harm her

Gevie - Beautiful

[leeny-leens]

Hey leeny! Congrats on your milestone 🤍 I’d like a HP order in-house. Can it be this prompt I found with Mattheo riddle x f! reader where reader is cold despite the warm night and Mattheo keeps pushing her away playfully. Just fluff and banter, Mwah ty!!

Hot To Go | M.R. x f!Reader

Pairing: bf!Mattheo Riddle x gf! Reader

Summary: what is supposed to be a comfy and cuddly nap turns into a war between lovers (request above)

Warnings: nothing major, cuss words, Mattheo calls Reader bitch once (not in a mean way)

Content: fluff, humour, there's no heating in Hogwarts for plot purposes, background TheoBlaise bcs why not, no house implications for Reader but she knows the Slytherin password, clingy Mattheo, Mattheo gets called Doll BCS why not, Mattheo is a walking human heater, Mattheo has sleeping issues, cute attempted nap turned into pillow fight

WC: 2.75k

AN: AAAA sooo sorry it took forever to get to this exams had me in a chokehold :( I hope ya like it pizza even tho it's not 100% up to my standard tbh

Hogwarts harboured many mysteries within it's stone walls, ones you enjoyed solving and chasing after. Currently however, the biggest mystery you've yet to crack is how a school for magic, the best one world wide, somehow did not have charms in place that kept the temperature warm during the cold season.

Despite the telltale signs of spring creeping in the shadows, the biting winds of the Scottish Highlands knew no mercy at this time of the year. And for some inexplicable reason, the stone walls of the castle did little to keep the cold out; the hallways filled with bundled up students that played a game of who can get from A to B the fastest without losing a limb or five.

The coldest place in the entire castle, much to your dismay, happened to be the dungeons -or the freezer, as you lovingly called it during the winter months. As you scurried to the Slytherin common room, you wondered briefly if you'd ever solve the mystery around the heating system in this school, or rather the lack thereof, before the cold claimed your life in the process. A particularly icy gust of wind swept across the dungeon corridor, accompanying you as you muttered the password to the snake entrance through clattering teeth, promptly proving that you'd probably die before this school fixed it's bloody heating issue.

The Slytherin common room wasn't much warmer than the corridors, the flickering flames of the fireplace doing a measly job at keeping the wide space warm. The occupants of the room didn't seem to mind much however, most of them already used to the cold that seeped into their space. Or perhaps they all mastered the intricacies of warming spells, you've yet to decide which one it was.

Pulling your cardigan —or rather, Mattheo’s cardigan, but at this point what difference did it make if it was your clothes or his?— you scanned the room for your friends and boyfriend, not surprised to see the lot of them sitting in the most hidden away corner anyone could think of occupying. You maneuvered through the crowds of first years playing a round of rigged exploding snap and expertly dodged various stray hex that flew around the room. Against everyone's judgment, the Slytherin common room was a rowdy and lively place, filled with laughter and shenanigans that most of the castle was none the wiser about.

When you finally arrived at the seating arrangement your friends had chosen for the evening, mostly in one piece without major injuries, you immediately noted that your boyfriend Mattheo wasn't among the group. Your eyes roamed over the couches, taking in the scenery in front of you; Theodore was sprawled on one of the couches, his long limbs hanging off the armrest while his head layed on Blaise’s lap. The latter was carding his hands through his boyfriend’s hair, listening attentively as Theo quietly read to him. A small yet warm smile graced his lips, one that was rare to see unless he was spending time with the blue eyed Italian. You rolled your eyes at their sickening display of affection, quickly turning your attention to the rest of your friends lest Blaise caught sight of your actions and played the offended queer black man card against you again.

On the other side, Lorenzo and Draco were caught in a heated debate about something you didn't quite understand, their dramatics overshadowing any legible words you might've been able to catch. Astoria and Pansy sat next to them, staring at the two with increased amusement as they sneakily stole sweets from the plates both boys had abandoned in favour of their argument.

Pansy was the first to notice your arrival, her eyes twinkling upon seeing you. Her lips stretched into a wide grin and she held her hand out towards you, as if beckoning you to come closer to her, and you obliged. “Hello there darling,” she greeted you cheerfully, her arms wrapping around your torso in a tight embrace. You wrapped your arm around her in a half hug, your eyes flitting between her and the dessert plate she was stealing from, only for her to shake her head with a devilish smirk. Deciding that you didn't like Draco and Enzo enough to defend their sweets, you pretended to not have seen a single thing and instead focused your attention on gathering clues about Mattheo’s whereabouts. After a chorus of greetings resounded in the small group, Theodore seemed to pick up on your silent question from the way your eyebrows furrowed and eyes darted across the room in search for your menace of a lover. “He went upstairs,” he clarified, “didn't sleep well last night and he was feeling tired.”

Your expression immediately soured at that, concern etching itself into your face.

“Nightmares?” You asked, only to be greeted with Theo’s usual nonchalant shrug. That didn't give you much to go by, but since this was Mattheo’s sleep schedule you were talking about, it was a safe bet to assume he was plagued by nightmares and insomnia again.

Astoria, ever the attentive angel that she was, reached over to squeeze your hand from her spot on the arm chair and smiled encouragingly.

“Go on, worrywart,” she teased, “go check on him for us will you?”

When even Enzo and Draco paused their arguing for the sake of convincing you to go up, you had no choice but to give in, bidding everyone a temporary goodbye with the promise of returning as soon as you could.

You all but ran down the hallway that led to the boys dormitory, both out of a sense of concern and self preservation. The hallway was somehow colder than the common room, perhaps due to its lack of inhabitants that might've been able to keep some of the warmth in.

In any case, you weren't about to stay here long, maneuvering the dark halls with expertise that could only come from years of sneaking around.

When you finally came to a half in front of your destination —the last door at the very end of the third corridor— you hesitated for a moment before knocking.

Perhaps Mattheo was already fast asleep, and you'd only disturb him if you knocked?

As if he was some sort of psychic that sensed both your presence and thoughts through the thick wooden door, it swung open, a gust of warm air blowing in your face, revealing Mattheo behind the door.

The warm air, a stark contrast to the coldness of the corridor, rendered you speechless for a moment, barley registering Mattheo’s dishevelled form.

He stared at you, amusement evident in the way a lazy smirk tugged on his lips, waiting for you to recover.

“Hi,” he huffed, reaching for your wrist to pull you into his dorm. You were still dazed, not having felt this sort of warmth even in your own dorm room, and began slowly trying to decipher where it came from.

Mattheo leaned against the now closed door, waiting for you to snap back to return his greeting. The moment he'd reached for your wrist, he knew you were experiencing the absolute whiplash of the century by the sudden temperature change. It was after all, one of your favourite topics to complain about during this season, and he'd paid attention to every single complaint for years now.

You blinked, once, twice and then some more before you finally snapped back from your shock, your eyes landing on him by the door frame.

He looked a little bit out of place, all circumstances considered. Tousled hair, a pair of sweats and a shirt that had various splotches across it that looked suspiciously similar to blood, or strawberry syrup. You could never quite be sure with Mattheo's erratic nature.

By now, he looked a little bit offended that you haven't said a single word to him, his face turning to the side to pointedly avoid your gaze. His antics amused you, and you stepped closer until you could wrap your arms around him.

“Hey,” you muttered, a bit breathless. Any and all complaints he might have had immediately melted off of him, his arms reflexively wrapping around you in a tight embrace. He smelled like cigarettes, Theo’s expensive cologne and burnt cookies. The latter of the combination solidified your suspicions about the splatter thankfully being strawberry syrup, not blood.

You stood like that for a few minutes, simply content to be in each others arms after a stressful week that had kept you apart. It happened of course, and it wasn't anything new, but it still left an unpleasant taste in your mouth; the fact that you were both buried under so much responsibility you could only exchange brief greetings in hallways or sneak a few kisses in hidden acloves.

Your hands began subconsciously tracing patterns across Mattheo's back, humming contently when you felt him relax further into you.

“Long night, doll?” You asked sympathetically when he leaned more of his weight onto you, shifting on your feet to shoulder it all.

He didn't bother to reply, or rather you suspected he didn't have the strength anymore, merely resting his head into your neck and nodding. Still, by the way his hands tightened around you and the quiet wince he let out, you could tell the name has the desired effect on him. After years spent together, you've come to learn that, contrary to his tough asshole exterior, Mattheo Riddle was ridiculously weak to pet names and incredibly easy to fluster when you knew which buttons to press. A touch with just enough pressure, a specific look, a joke with too much inplication, or calling him by a petname that wasn't your usual 'babe' was always enough to turn his brain off, especially when he was tired.

His breath was warm against your skin, ticklish and soft. You held back your giggles in favour of devoting your complete attention to him, running your hand across his spine with enough pressure to elicit small gasps and sighs of comfort.

You glanced at his bed, noting the messy state of it before pulling on his curls, catching his attention.

With a disgruntled noise, he unlatched himself from your neck, shooting you a frown. “What?” He asked, the pout on his lips momentarily distracting you.

You couldn't resist, because that was the sort of herculean task you always failed at, and gave him a quick peck.

“How about we take a nap, hm?” You asked, glancing at the bed with a smile you hoped was alluring enough to shut down any possible protests.

His frown smoothed out, and you could tell his resolve to stay awake slowly cracked under the weight of your gaze before he dramatically sighed and untangled himself from your embrace.

His silence weighed heavily on the atmosphere, though by the look of the dark circles and shadows etched into his face, you figured it was to be expected.

You managed to drag him into his bed, noting that the air was much warmer here than anywhere else in the room, before pushing him to lay down.

He opened his mouth, presumably to complain, but you shushed him with a kiss to his cheek that had his eyes glassing over and the blood rushing to his face.

“Just sleep,” you mused, slipping out of your shoes and shrugging your cardigan off before getting under the covers with him.

As soon as the mattress dipped beneath your weight, Mattheo's breath evened out and you took that as a sign he'd soon fall asleep.

Your position wasn't the most comfortable, so you twisted and turned delicately as to not disturb him until his back was pressed into your stomach, your chin on his shoulder while your legs tangled into each other.

It was comfortable, and the extreme heat radiating off of him lulled you into a sleepy haze until you heard him grunt and felt him swat your hands.

“M’too warm,” he complained, twisting around to shake you off.

Your eyes fluttered open, an indignant noise in the back of your throat as he began to huff and puff while making an effort to twist himself out from your embrace.

“What are you doing?” You asked, half offended, half amused.

He finally cracked his eyes open, giving you a dirty look that clearly questioned your intelligence before pushing you away from him.

“S’too warm to cuddle,” he muttered, throwing off his blanket, right onto you.

He looked ridiculous like this, hair sticking up in every direction, a childish frown on his handsome face as he turned and twisted, sprawling out and half hitting you in the face.

He looked so ridiculous in fact, that you sat up and threw the blanket back on him, giggling when he glared at you.

“What the fuck was that for?”

“For not wanting to cuddle with me,” you said, eyebrows arched at his question.

You only had a few moments to register the mischievous glint in his eyes before you found yourself in a tug war, fighting for your life to stay on his bed.

“Go away,” he pressed out between wheezes, and to your dismay, Mattheo’s expertise in brute force gave him an upper hand. With one strong push, you found yourself on the ground, a soft tingle on your palms and bottom indicating Mattheo had cast a spell that would ensure your safety. His quiet care almost had you swoon, if not for the fact that he’d just pushed you off the bed without as much as a second look. He kicked off his blanket, the soft thump on the other side of the bed comically loud in the otherwise unite room before he sprawled out completely on the bed.

You didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended, and the obvious theirs secret option was of course revenge. Quietly, you got up and grabbed a pillow that Mattheo must’ve forgotten on the floor before sneaking up to the bed. You almost felt bad for what you were about to do, especially with how peaceful his expression looked under the soft light. Keyword being almost, because feeling bad wasn’t a thing in your relationship. With just enough force to not actually nur him, you swung the pillow directly at his head, snorting at shrill scream he let out.

He turned around, confused and baffled before he spotted you doubled over in laughter, still clutching the murder weapon in your arms. His eyes darkened, his expression filled with determination as he sat up.

“Game fucking on bitch,” he muttered, grabbing his pillow as he sprung to his feet. Your eyes widened with mock terror, not having anticipated that he would attempt to fight back. You barely had time to duck before he hurled the pillow at you, triumph blossoming in your chest at having dodged his attack.

It was, however, a mistake to celebrate so early, because he immediately snatched the pillow up and hit you with a perfectly aimed hit to your face, knocking you to the ground.

This signaled the start of a war, ad the next 10 minutes were spent jumping on various pieces of furniture, hexing blankets and clothes to act as shields, hitting eachother with pillows and trying not to slip on the filling that flew across the room.

By the time you both collapsed on the bed together, energy spent and faces warm from exertion, the warmth and affection that pooled in your chest when you looked at Mattheo was worth all the exhaustion and childish squabbling you just endured.

His hair was somehow even messier than before, stray pillow filling stuck in his dark curls. Despite the obvious dark circles and the thin layer of sweat on his forehead, his smile was radiantly bright, almost enough to have you look away.

“Still too warm to cuddle,” he whispered with a small grin, but still tugged on your hand to pull you beside him, close enough that he knew you were there, but not enough for your body heat to mingle.

You figured this would be the next best option, truly feeling too warm to hold the walking heat radiator that was Mattheo, and settled into the bed with his fingers intertwined in yours.

It didn't take long for sleep wash over the both of your, and soon enough the only sound resounding through the room was your shallow breathing as you lay there, hand in hand, utterly satisfied and tucked away from the harsh cold of the castle.

[domoriu]

kiwis fic recs pt.2 !! bonedo edition

definitely not all of the bnd fics ive read but just my personal favorites !! also sorry in advance there’s literally no gongfourz fics on here since i mainly read for my biases but i do dabble in their fics sometimes 🫦 ill do a part 2 one of these days and i promise ill put some taesan and leehan in it !!

❀ = nsfw !!

solace // jaehyun ❀ - jaehyun who just needs to be taken care of… my favorite trope… also was just so cute and comforting

wcbf // jaehyun - SUCH A GOOD SMAU !!! funny, sad, the good stuff. also ariana grande is my favorite artist so ill eat up anything inspired by her music 😋

space & time // sungho - so good i love some mutual pining where they’re so oblivious to eachothers feelings even when ITS SO OBVIOUS!!!!

satin // sungho ❀ - idk if you guys understand what i mean when i say this but sometimes i read a fic so good it really feels like im there fr… and this is one of them…

evening glow // riwoo - so cute. i love f2l so much. and im not usually a big fluff reader but when i do read it i really always just smile and giggle and swing my feet. i love the idea of friends pining for each other even without actually realizing, and they realize that its always been them from the start <3

pretty mess // jaehyun ❀ - now this was hard because, i really could just put every fic that berry has posted in this list, but i think this one is my #1 favorite. i love the way berry writes for bnd and i love the sub!idol agenda SO MUCH… and she just delivers time and time again and i LOVEEEE subby whiny desperate jaehyun 🤤 i know im like dickriding berry so hard right now but SERIOUSLY!!! I MEAN IT PLS READ ALL THEIR FICS EVERYTHING IS DELICIOUS.

sweet, pretty boy // riwoo ❀ - MY GOD. ur actually only able to read this on web browser but it is SO worth it!! i love the way vivi writes for riwoo… like she just scratches the riwoo part of my brain every single time… fantastic give me 14 of them right now !!!

whos that girl? // jaehyun - okay shameless promo time 🤤 my pride and joy and my first smau sometimes i read it as if im not the one who wrote it and im like wow i really did that…

needy // sungho ❀ - just scrumptious tbh. i love when sungho is the perfect boyfriend and in bed he kinda gets a little rough cuz he’s just locked in… yes…

help, im stuck! // jaehyun ❀ - its crazy to say but the cheesy porn plot fics are kind of a guilty pleasure 😭 corny and unrealistic? sure! good fic nonetheless

[noxitsnox]

park sunghoon x quiet!f!reader- HC

p. sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: you were paired for a group project with park sunghoon, the quiet popular guy in your class.

tags: quiet boy x quiet girl, highschool au, 2nd person pov, y/n is used, semi smau/text fic, fluff, sunghoon is a bit of a bitch tbh

a/n: this was interesting to make, usually two quiet people aren't paired in ff!!! here's the request, i hope you like this! also, i don't actually think enhypen would be bullies but i needed it for the plot

you hated group projects the most. they were bad when you had to chose the group and they were even worse when the teacher would come up with it... especially if they paired you with park sunghoon

he was weird... better than his friends, but they were still his friends

they were popolar and mean, not mean enough to be considered bullies but still mean enough to be annoying

sunghoon never took part in their jokes, but he never stopped them either

you should hate him the same way you hated the others but something about him was different

part of you wanted to really get to know him, see him in the same way his friends did

you did a have a small crush on him

it only made things even more awkward between you two... well, no, just for you. you didn't think he actually cared about you, or anything else for all that matters

studying virus and bacteria with the hot mysterious-but-popular guy in your class... the plot of a rom-com basically, except you weren't the popular talkative girl who was able to bring him out of his shell, you were the quiet girl who gets picked on by them

you could only hope that sunghoon was good in science

and he was, he just didn't talk! he made you seem out going. you, the one with no friends because you were too anxious to approach people

the first study session could be wrapped with this event

you spent 30 minutes trying to find something on the text book about the way viruses reproduce before he told you that he already knew it

he didn't tell you what you needed before because "you didn't ask him if he knew it"

it seemed like he had no interested in you or the project even, he only wanted to get it done

but he was never mean or arrogant, just... silently working on his own

you spent hours cleaning the house and even attempted to make some cookies before his arrival only for him to barely even speak to you

and at school he would simply ignore you

you tried waving at him in the halway and he looked directly at you before walking away without saying anything

you didn't expect to become best friends of course, but some acknowledgement in school after you invited him to your house and baked cookies for him would be nice

a week later, second study session, still your house. everything was going the same way as the last time

until your mother returned from work and offered to prepare some snack for you while you took a break

he was kind to your mom, he even told her that she looked really young- something that immediately assured him a spot in her heart

Your mother bombarded him with questions and even though he seemed a little uncomfortable Sunghoon answered everything

in ten minutes your mother got what you had been trying to get for at least a week

you found out a lot of things about him, for exemple you knew he did ice skating, but you didn't know he won national competitions

when you went back to work on your project you noticed he looked a bit more at ease, was a bit more talkative and collaborative

At school he continued to ignore you, but you exchanged phone numbers and that was already a win for you

his place was so different from what you were expecting

you thought it would be a cover perfect black and white always tidy house, but you were wrong. it wasn't dirty or anything, but you could see it was lived in, there was a lot of white, but also many other colors

you knew he had a sister, you could see some of her things in the living room and you could see his mother's cooking magazines in the kitchen

sunghoon always had this robotic vibe, but seeing the place he lived humanized him a lot

his room was tidy, there were a few framed pictures on the walls and his trophies and medals exposed on the bookshelf

"this is you?" you asked, pointing at a pic of a little boy playing at the beach with a girl "ah yes, with my sister." "you were cute back then", you whispered almost hoping not to be heard. sunghoon smirked "and now i'm not?" you felt your cheeks turn red. embarrassed you started to speak nonsense that only made it even more embarassing. "wait that's not what i meant! you were cute as a kid but it doesn't mean you aren't anymore! you still are, you're handsome and all really" "handsome and all, uh?" "it's not like i have a crush on you o-" he started laughing and damn, you definetely had a crush on him. no doubt, your heart was his and his only. "relax, y/n. i'm just joking."

humiliated. you were absolutely humiliated. why did you have to bring up that picture in the first place? now he's gonna think you're weird and make fun of you with his friends

but despite the embarassment you could sense this was a good start. he laughed at you but he still laughed. and the study session went great, it only took you one hour to finish the presentation but you spent the whole afternoon talking

you asked him about his passions, outside of ice skating, and he told you he really liked music

you exchanged playlist and found out your taste were really similiar

sunghoon was right, his friends were weird... but maybe not as much as you belived

in the end, they were just normal people even if they liked to comment loudly about other people

actually, sitting with them at lunch was horrible. they were making fun of every single person that passed by... one girl's problem were her "uneven" hair, another boy was wearing "too many colors"

and sunghoon? he was eating in silence, smiling at their jokes and whispering things to jake some time to time

after that you avoided him until the day of the presentation. when he waved at you in the halway you ignored him, the same way he did with you

how many things did his friends and him say about you before? you liked him, but this... this ruined everything

you were the last one in the class to give the presentation, and when the bell rang you tried to run away as fast as possible but he grabbed your wrist

"y/n can we talk?" "let me go. i have class, i'll be late"

the good thing: he actually tried!

you saw him stopping his friends from making those comments

the first time he kissed you, you were shocked

you were still a bit angry about the friends situation, but that made you change your mind almost instantly

you told him you still liked him, that you could be with him now

[yanyandam]

Hellooo i saw ur post and I neeeed some kakucho fluff😫 could pretty pleaseee write about him? Friends to lovers with maybe something spicy;)

((HII thank you for requesting!!?.?. Omg this request reminded me of a never finished one-shot I tried writing about Kakucho 2 months ago. Idk if it fits what you asked but at least it gave me an excuse to write and finish whatever this is))

Sweet Letter, Kakucho x fem!Reader

>> Fluff, Good timeskip at the end, Childhood friends to lovers, pretty rushed tbh, Reader likes baking, Reader is referred as 'she', Domestic fluff at the end, barely any plot, english isn't my first language, I'm not very proud of this

Kakucho first saw her when he was around ten years old. The orphanage was a dull place, a cluster of tired walls and hallways where children’s voices echoed until they became background noise. It rained often, and even when the sun shone, the cold made a home in the stone. There was that little girl his age, always kneeling in the courtyard, her hands busy sculpting something: mud in the summer, snow in the winter. Like a tiny architect of the ephemeral. Kakucho watched her from a distance, intrigued despite himself.

One December day, his curiosity got the better of him. Hands shoved into his pockets, he walked over, his breath fogging in the cold air. “What are you even doing?” he asked, unimpressed.

She looked up at him, her lips red from the cold, but her smile unwavering, full of pride.

“It’s my restaurant! I’m making cakes”  she said, pointing at her “plates” sculpted from snow. Kakucho raised an eyebrow. That was stupid. Dumb. Completely ridiculous. And he didn’t hold back from telling her.

 “That’s useless. You’re an idiot.”

Her smile disappeared instantly. Her small fists clenched, and her eyes welled up with tears. A second later, she was crying, sniffling loudly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and sadness.

Kakucho felt something twist in his stomach. He hated this. Making girls cry was cowardly. And he wasn’t a coward. Panicking, he scrambled for a way to make things right. “No, no, that’s not what I meant!” he blurted. “Your restaurant… it’s worth five stars!”

She sniffed, eyeing him suspiciously, tears still rolling down her face. “Liar.”

To prove her wrong, he did the first thing that came to mind. Without thinking, he grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it into his mouth, swallowing the icy bitterness like a complete fool. He grimaced, but forced himself to pat his stomach with exaggerated satisfaction. “It’s delicious! Now stop crying!”

But she didn’t stop.

It wasn’t until Izana returned from one of his outings with Shinichiro that the madness ended. The older boy stopped in his tracks at the sight of Kakucho, his cheeks stuffed with melting snow, looking utterly pathetic. “Are you actually brain-dead?” Izana asked before smacking him upside the head.

Kakucho got his ass thoroughly kicked, and he felt it for a while. But when he glanced behind him, he saw the girl laughing. A real laugh. Just a burst of pure joy in the middle of winter.

And strangely enough, it was worth it.

—

He hadn’t seen the girl since that day. He didn’t know why. Maybe a foster family had taken her in? Maybe she had simply vanished into the currents of time, the way people sometimes do. He could barely remember her face now, just a blur of winter light and teary eyes.

It was a December day like any other in his cramped apartment. The heater rattled, struggling against the cold, but he was already used to it. As always, he planned to "train" before ending his day: which, in his case, meant hunting for punks stupid enough to throw dirty looks his way.

As he made his way downstairs, he noticed something sticking out of his mailbox, buried among the usual stack of useless advertisements. A letter. It wasn’t his. The recipient’s address was nearly identical to his own; just a mistake, a careless slip from an overworked postman. He had no reason to care, but something about it caught his attention. Without thinking, he pulled it out and unfolded it. The words were scrawled in neat, careful handwriting, the loops and curves suggesting it belonged to a girl. The letter read something like this:

"They rejected my application for the pastry competition! If this keeps up, I can kiss my dream of opening my own restaurant goodbye."

Kakucho exhaled through his nose. Poor girl.

And more importantly, what a useless postman.

He was heading out anyway, and the address wasn’t far. It wouldn’t take much effort to drop it off. Not that he actually cared about the letter or the girl’s dreams, he just figured, if it were him waiting on something important, he’d want it to end up in the right hands. Besides, he’d already read it. Might as well finish the job.

8:43 PM.

The city was drowning in winter. The air was sharp, biting, filled with the distant hum of cars and flickering neon signs that painted the cracked pavement in shades of red and blue. The streets weren’t empty, but the kind of people still wandering at this hour weren’t the type you’d want to bump into. Kakucho walked with steady purpose, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the street ahead. He knew the address was close. Maybe just a few more blocks. But then, something made him stop.

 A girl's voice.

His gaze snapped to the alley on his left.

A group of delinquents, four, maybe five, had cornered someone against a graffitied wall. A girl, small, tense, her back pressed hard against the bricks. One of the guys, the tallest, had a hand braced against the wall near her head, leaning in too close, grinning like he’d already won whatever sick little game they were playing. "C’mon, don’t be like that. We just wanna talk." His voice was all mock sweetness, dripping with sleaze."Yeah, bet you’re lonely, huh?" another one chimed in, laughing.

The girl didn’t answer. Her fingers were curled into fists, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew she was outnumbered.

Kakucho exhaled slowly, tilting his head. Wrong place. Wrong time for them. He stepped forward. His shoes crunched against the frost-covered pavement. The sound was quiet, but the effect was instant. The tallest guy turned his head, expression twisting in irritation, then in something else when he got a good look at who had just arrived. Kakucho didn’t say anything. He just stared. One of the guys shifted uneasily.

"Tch. The fuck do you want?" the leader snapped. Kakucho took another step. Then another. His shoulders relaxed, but his eyes remained cold, calculating. "You got three seconds." His voice was quiet. Deadly.

The group exchanged glances before the tall one scoffed, clicking his tongue. "Oh yeah? And what happens after three, tough guy?" Kakucho didn’t answer. He just moved.

Fast.

His fist connected with the guy’s jaw before he even had time to blink. A sickening crunch split the air as bone shattered, followed by a choked gasp as the punk crumpled to the ground, clutching his face. The others barely had time to react before Kakucho was already on the next one. God, he hated cowards. The second guy swung, a sloppy, panicked punch. Kakucho ducked under it with ease, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him face-first into the alley wall. A sharp cry, then a dull thud as the body slumped to the ground. Two left.

The third one was already backing away, shaking his head. "H-Hey man, we were just—" Kakucho didn’t care. He grabbed him by the hair and drove his knee into his stomach. Hard.

Then, silence. It all occurred so quickly.

The only sound left was the girl’s uneven breathing and the quiet dripping of blood onto the pavement. Kakucho rolled his shoulders, exhaling through his nose. He barely even felt winded. He turned to the girl, who was staring at him with wide eyes, frozen in place. "You okay?" he asked flatly, as if he hadn’t just dismantled five guys in less than a minute. She nodded quickly. Too quickly.

Kakucho was still a little pissed off. His knuckles ached from the force he had used, but it wasn’t the fight that had him irritated, it was her. Or rather, the fact that she was even out here in the first place. “Who the hell are you, anyway? Never seen you around here. What the fuck are you doing out this late?”

The girl flinched slightly at his tone but kept her pace steady beside him. “I-I’m sorry, sir…” she said softly.

Kakucho stopped walking.

Then, he laughed. Caught between amusement and disbelief. “Sir? The hell’s that about? We’re probably the same damn age.” She blinked at him, clearly caught off guard. “Oh… uh, sorry.”

Kakucho shrugged, rolling his shoulders as he started walking again. “So? What were you really doing here?”

“I was visiting a friend,” she answered.

Kakucho glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t look like she belonged in a place like this. “Your friend lives around here? You need me to take you there?” Before she could even answer, he jerked his chin forward, motioning for her to lead the way. “C’mon, let’s go.”

She hesitated but eventually sighed, mumbling an address. Kakucho stopped in his tracks. His brows lifted slightly.

“Huh? That address?”

He pulled the letter from his pocket, flipping it around so she could see. Her reaction was immediate. She stiffened, eyes darting between the paper and him. “Wait- where the hell did you get that?!” Her voice rose, a mixture of surprise and irritation. Kakucho smirked slightly, tilting the letter lazily between his fingers. “Relax. It was in my mailbox. Some dumbass mailman must’ve screwed up.”

Her expression darkened, clearly unimpressed. “And you just decided to read it?”

Kakucho shrugged, unbothered. “What, like you wouldn’t have?” She opened her mouth to argue, but then shut it. Yeah. She probably would have. The streetlight above them flickered again, buzzing faintly before stabilizing. A cold wind howled through the alleyway, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. Kakucho tucked the letter back into his pocket. “Come on. Let’s get moving.” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head before finally stepping forward, leading the way. Kakucho followed, stuffing his hands into his jacket, the ghost of a smirk still lingering on his lips.

The walk to her friend’s place was mostly quiet. Not the uncomfortable kind, but the kind where neither of them really knew what to say. The streets were emptier now, the occasional passing car throwing brief flashes of light across the cracked pavement. Kakucho’s hands stayed deep in his pockets, his breath misting in the cold air. She walked beside him, still casting occasional glances his way, as if trying to figure something out. They finally stopped in front of a small, rundown apartment building. The dull glow of a streetlamp buzzed overhead, washing the concrete in pale orange light. Kakucho pulled the letter from his pocket and held it out. “Here. Your mail.”

She hesitated before taking it, her fingers brushing against the rough edges of the envelope. She looked down at it, then back up at him. “You didn’t have to bring it all the way here.”

Kakucho gave a lazy shrug. “Yeah, well. It was on the way.”

She sighed but smiled a little, shaking her head. “Guess I should at least know your name, then. I’m—” she started, but then stopped. Her eyes flickered over his face, locking onto something.

The scar. She finally saw it clearly with the street lights. Kakucho raised an eyebrow as her expression shifted. She took a step closer, squinting slightly under the streetlight, as if making sure she wasn’t imagining things. Then, suddenly…

“No way.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “You’re the snow eater.”

Kakucho blinked.

“The what?”

She laughed, short and disbelieving, before covering her mouth with her hand.

“Holy shit. You’re that dumbass kid from the orphanage. The one who ate snow to prove my cooking was good.”

"It's you who..." Kakucho stiffened slightly, caught between amusement, realization and mild embarrassment. He hadn’t thought about that in years. “That was a long time ago.” He exhaled. “Didn’t think you’d remember.”

“Are you kidding?” She grinned. “That was the funniest thing I’d ever seen. You looked so serious about it, too.”

Kakucho huffed, looking away. “Yeah, well. You wouldn’t stop crying. Someone had to do something.”

She laughed again, softer this time. She looked down at the letter in her hands, running her thumb over the paper. Then, after a pause, she looked up at him. “Thanks. For this. And for earlier.”

Kakucho just nodded, as if it was no big deal. Then, after a moment,

“Good luck with the whole… cooking thing.”

She tilted her head. “Cooking thing?”

“Your dream. The restaurant.” He nodded toward the letter. “Don’t let some shitty competition stop you.”

She stared at him for a second, then smiled. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”

Kakucho smirked slightly, the corner of his lips twitching upward. “Maybe.” The streetlight flickered again, and the wind picked up, carrying the distant sounds of the city. She gave him one last look before turning toward the apartment. Kakucho waited until she disappeared inside before exhaling, rolling his shoulders, and stepping back into the cold night.

–

Since that night, they started seeing each other more often. At first, it was coincidental: running into each other in the same streets, exchanging nods, the occasional sarcastic remark. But soon, it became intentional. A shared meal here, a conversation there. Somehow, Kakucho found himself listening when she talked about her cooking, about her dreams. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t mind. And then, one day, in a rare moment of honesty, he admitted something he had never really told anyone, he actually liked cooking too.

More than that, he was surprisingly good at it.

At first, she laughed, thinking he was joking. But when she challenged him to prove it, she wasn’t prepared for just how skilled he actually was. And so, in her small kitchen, under the soft hum of a radio and the scent of fresh ingredients, they cooked together for the first time.

Her apartment was small, but cozy, with warm yellow lighting that softened the edges of the old furniture. The kitchen was barely big enough for two people, yet here they were, standing shoulder to shoulder. Kakucho had his sleeves rolled up, a black apron lazily tied around his waist. She still couldn’t believe he actually agreed to this.

“Alright, ‘chef,’” she teased, leaning against the counter. “What’s on the menu?”

Kakucho smirked, cracking his knuckles. “Something simple. We’ll start with a cake.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? That’s pretty vague.”

“Tch. You’re the one who doubted me. You don’t get to complain now.” She held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Show me what you got.”

Kakucho wasted no time. He immediately started to bake everything together, violating the harmony of the place.

“You’ve done this before.”

He glanced at her, unimpressed. “No shit. What, did you think I was lying?”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, but… I don’t know. I didn’t picture you being the type to spend time in a kitchen.”

“Cooking’s not that different from fighting.” He tossed the cacao into the mixture. “It’s all about timing, control, and knowing how to handle the heat.”

She blinked.

“Did you just compare baking to street fighting?”

Kakucho shrugged. “It works.”

It didn’t.

Her kitchen was way too small for this. Between the bags of flour, scattered measuring spoons, and the egg that had somehow ended up on the floor (neither of them wanted to admit who dropped it), the whole place looked less like a workspace and more like the aftermath of a food fight. “This is a disaster,” she muttered, staring at the mess. Kakucho, on the other hand, looked way too excited. He had his sleeves rolled up again, but this time, there was flour smeared on his forearm, and his black apron was already stained with cocoa powder. He was gripping a metal whisk with the same intensity he usually reserved for street fights.

“Relax,” he said, cracking his neck like he was about to beat someone to death instead of… whisking eggs. “I got this.” She raised an eyebrow, immediately skeptical.

“You got this? Kakucho, you’re gripping that whisk like you’re about to stab someone with it.”

“It’s about control,” he shot back. “Baking is all about control.”

And then, before she could even react, he plunged the whisk into the bowl of eggs and sugar and started beating the absolute shit out of it. The metal bowl rattled violently against the countertop, nearly toppling over from the sheer force of his mixing.

“Kaku-chan—KAKUCHO, CALM DOWN—”

“IT NEEDS TO BE SMOOTH,” he growled, whipping the batter like it had personally offended him. Flour puffed up into the air like smoke from an explosion. She coughed, waving a hand in front of her face.

“YOU’RE GOING TO BREAK THE BOWL.”

Kakucho finally slowed down, staring at the batter like he had just won a fight against it. He huffed, satisfied. “See? Perfect.” She looked at the batter. It was smooth. Like he had bullied it into submission.

“…Okay, but did you have to beat it like it owed you money?”

Kakucho just smirked, wiping his wrist across his forehead, leaving a streak of flour there. She sighed, and grabbed the vanilla extract.

“Alright, we still need to add this. Here—” she started, but as soon as she opened the cap, Kakucho snatched the bottle out of her hands. “I got it.”

“Kaku, be careful with that, it’s—”

Before she could finish, he tipped the bottle way too fast. Half the vanilla extract dumped into the batter. A long silence stretched between them. Kakucho slowly turned his head toward her.

“That was on purpose!” He seemed proud.

“NO, IT WASN’T, YOU ABSOLUTE PSYCHOPATH.” She smacked his arm, but he just grinned. “Well, too late now.” He grabbed a spoon and tasted a bit of the batter. His expression shifted slightly, but then he nodded. “Tastes fine to me.” She sighed dramatically, pressing her fingers against her temple. “You are so lucky you’re cute.” She hadn’t even realized she said it out loud. Kakucho, who had been about to start pouring the batter into the cake pan, froze. His grip on the bowl tightened just slightly, and for once, he was the one caught off guard. She also froze.

Their eyes met over the mess of flour and eggshells, the chaos suddenly way too quiet. Then, she cleared her throat, quickly turning away to adjust the oven temperature, pretending nothing happened. “Anyway. Let’s just bake this thing and see if it’s actually edible.”

Kakucho didn’t say anything for a second. “…Yeah. Let’s do that.”

He set the bowl down and stepped a little closer, just barely brushing against her side as he reached for the pan. His hands, usually rough and calloused from fighting, moved carefully now as he smoothed the batter into the dish.

–

At first, Kakucho didn’t think much of it. She was just someone from the past, one of the few remnants of his childhood that had somehow stumbled back into his life. It was strange at first, seeing her so often, talking to her about things that had nothing to do with fights or gangs. She had this way of making normal things, things he never thought about before, seem important.

It took him longer than he wanted to admit to realize he had caught feelings. At first, it was just irritation: that she was always on his mind, irritation that he started looking forward to their meetings, irritation that he actually cared whether or not she got home safe. He found himself lingering near her apartment some nights, just to make sure nothing happened. He found himself remembering her favorite foods, stopping by random bakeries just to compare them to hers.

One night, when they were sitting on the floor of her apartment, eating a cake they had completely messed up, she laughed at something he said. Not just a small chuckle, but a full-on laugh, one that made her shoulders shake, one that made her eyes crinkle in that way he was starting to find annoyingly cute. And that’s when it hit him. He wanted to keep making her laugh. He wanted her to look at him the way she looked at a perfectly risen soufflé. He wanted her to stay.

—

Kakucho wasn’t good with words. He knew that. He wasn’t like those guys in romance movies who could smooth-talk their way into someone’s heart. But keeping it to himself? That felt worse. One evening, after another chaotic baking session that left her kitchen looking like a flour bomb had gone off, they sat on her couch, exhausted. She was flipping through a cookbook, muttering to herself about how they’d “do better next time.” Kakucho didn’t even realize he was staring until she glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What? You got something to say?”

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. His heart was beating too fast, and he hated it.“Yeah.” He looked away for a second before forcing himself to meet her eyes again. “I like you.”

Her fingers stilled against the pages. “…What?”

 “I like you,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “A lot.” For a second, she just stared. “Are you serious?” Kakucho’s expression darkened. “Do I look like I joke around?” She blinked before a slow, knowing smile spread across her lips. “No. But you do look like you wanna die from embarrassment right now.”

He scowled. “I’m leaving.”

“No, no! Wait! I was kidding—” she reached for his arm before he could get up, laughing. “I just—Wow. You’re really full of surprises, huh?”

Kakucho huffed but didn’t pull away. “So? What’s your answer?” She tilted her head, as if considering it. Then, instead of answering, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against his scarred side. Kakucho went completely still. “That answer your question?” she murmured. He swallowed hard before nodding. “…Yeah.”

–

Being Kakucho’s girlfriend was an experience. For someone who had spent most of his life fighting and surviving, relationships weren’t exactly something he had prior experience with. But once he decided he was all in, he was all in.

Kakucho didn’t play around when it came to her safety. If he even suspected someone was bothering her, they were lucky to walk away in one piece. He memorized her schedule, walked her home at night, and if she ever mentioned some guy making her uncomfortable? Let’s just say that guy wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

Kakucho wasn’t the type to be openly affectionate in public, but behind closed doors? He was soft. He’d pull her into his lap without a second thought, rest his chin on her shoulder, and let her trace her fingers over the scar on his face. He never talked about it, but he didn’t mind when she touched it.

>>>BONUS: timeskip

Years had passed since those chaotic, sugar-dusted days of learning how to bake together. Kakucho had never imagined his life would take this turn, that he would find purpose beyond fighting, beyond surviving. But here he was, standing in front of a building that represented everything he and Izana had worked for, an association dedicated to giving orphans around the world the chances they never had. TENJIKU.

Kakucho had never been sentimental about things like that. But now, as he watched children running through the halls of the shelter they had built, as he saw the warmth in their eyes when they were given homes, opportunities, and love, he understood. And through it all, she had been by his side.

The woman who once molded cakes out of snow now ran one of the most successful bakeries in the city. Kakucho had watched her fight for her dream with the same stubbornness she used to scold him in the kitchen. He had watched her fail, rise, and build something beautiful. And somewhere along the way, he had realized he wanted to spend forever watching her do just that. Now, she was his wife. His wife. It still sounded unreal, even after years of waking up next to her.

–

The scent of vanilla and caramel lingered in the air when he stepped into their home that evening. The bakery had closed hours ago, but she was still at it, testing new recipes in their personal kitchen. Kakucho leaned against the doorway, arms crossed as he watched her, his ever-present scar catching the warm glow of the kitchen lights. She was focused, biting her lip as she scribbled notes into her worn-out recipe book. He smirked. “Planning to conquer the dessert world again?” What a cringe line but it was okay, it was Kaku. His voice was rough from the cold outside, but the amusement in it was unmistakable.

She jumped slightly, turning to him with an exaggerated pout. “You’re home late.” He shrugged off his jacket, stepping closer. “Had a meeting with Izana. You know how he gets when he starts talking about expansion.”

She rolled her eyes, but the fondness in them was obvious. Izana had become a permanent fixture in their lives, and despite his usual dramatics, she adored him in her own way. “Well, you should at least eat something. I made- ” Before she could finish, Kakucho reached over, dipping his finger into the bowl of cream she had been whipping. He licked it off with an unimpressed hum. “Too sweet.”

She gasped, scandalized. “Excuse me?”

He smirked, dodging the playful slap she aimed at his arm. “What? You’re always saying you want honest feedback.”

“I meant constructive feedback, not blasphemy.” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “I’ll make it up to you.”

She raised an eyebrow, but he could see the way her eyes darkened slightly at his tone. “Oh? And how do you plan to do that?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned in, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her jaw, then lower, tracing a path toward her neck. She shivered, her fingers tightening around the front of his shirt. “You taste sweeter than your cream,” he murmured against her skin, lips curling when he felt her breath hitch.

“Kaku-”

He grinned, enjoying the way she was already melting against him. “What?” She huffed, clearly trying to regain composure. “You’re supposed to be eating dinner-”

“Who said I’m not eating?” His voice was smug, hands sliding down to grip her hips.

She swatted at his chest, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re mine.”

[starillusion13]

Am I late?

Pairing: roommate! Mark x f! reader (ft. bff Haechan & Mark's brother Taeyong)

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, mafia

Warning: getting lost in an unknown place, missing your best friend (lol), having fever, confession, confusion of feelings, secrets and heartbroken. idk what warnings should I give when the story has none.

W.C: 7.3k Network: @k-vanity

Basically I was drunk when I wrote this(not really), I just love Mark too much and I was drooling over him most of the time instead of writing the fic. I had totally kept this fic aside to write down the NCT series (tbh I forgot I had this in my draft). the thought for this plot only came to mind after I had saved all the pics from the day of the third picture above so dont judge the fic too hard.

“Yeah, I have reached the place. You can cut the call, Hyuck.”

You smiled into the call and stood in front of the new building, titling your head back to look at the tall view. The buildings towering over you and you swore that was what you really expected when you decided to move to states for your university. But leaving Haechan behind all alone back in your home town was miserable.

“But how am I supposed to know that you are safe out there?” he asked you and coughed a little.

“Hyuck. Are you sick?” your worried tone made him smile and he hugged the pillow tighter. Curling on his bed, he pressed the phone to his ears. The only source which felt like you are still with him. even if you were far away from his embrace, he could still feel your warmth. As if just a second ago, you last hugged him and bid goodbye. it’s been a day when he last saw you in person and don’t know again when he would get the chance.

“just a little. Leave that for now and tell me. Is the place safe for you?”

You were still worried as you were always the one who took care of him and now you were not there, how will that clumsy ass take care of his own?

You sighed into the call, “this place is safe for outsiders and I have a roommate. I can tell him if I feel unsafe about anything. Don’t worry, please. I want you to take care of yourself until I go back there again. I want you to be healthy and fine…for me. Please.”

“For you, I am always fine.” He chuckled and added, “Also, I have to take care of myself as you are not here like always. I will miss you a lot. Better take care and if your roommate disturbs you for anything. Just call me and-“

“and? We are far away, Hyuck. Don’t forget that you can’t come to me anytime you want like before.” You sadly chuckled, pulling your bag towards your block and looking around. Arriving in front of the lift, you were still smiling.

“y/n…you will not forget me, right?” his voice was low and almost sounded like a whisper. He was trying hard to hold back his tears.

You bit your lips, “go to sleep, Hyuck. It’s already late at night.”

“I want to hear your voice more.” He mumbled to himself but still you heard it. You chuckled and pressed the button for the 9th floor.

“Bye. I need to get into the lift and then survive the rest of the day. Please, take medicines and rest. You have to go to work tomorrow.”

He hummed, “Bye……I l-“

You cut the call before getting inside the call. But on the other side of the call, a tear fell from his eyes.

I love you, Y/n.

.

.

.

*Ding*

Stumbling upon the things scattered on the floor, the boy rushed towards the door. He was rubbing his eyes and without looking into the peephole, he swung open the door, revealing you standing at the doorway awkwardly. He frowned at you and looked around to grasp the situation.

Why was a girl standing at his footsteps and even with luggage?

He scratched his neck and smiled, “um…you?”

You were still shocked with the image in front of you. You gulped at the sight and when you caught his sleepy eyes, you looked away. Can’t he understand? You mentally prayed for him to get away from there but a second voice made the man in front of you look back inside the room.

“ Is this your new chick?” he yawned and eyed your bags, obviously checking you out in the way. He smirked and went towards the table, a little visible to you. As far as you were told, you have one roommate then why there’s two of them?

The boy with round eyes and a smiley face in front of you was staring at the boy at the table and then turned towards you, “hello! Do I know you? Do you need some help?”

You blinked a few times and checked the apartment No. and it was the right one. You gulped and before you could speak, the other boy with red hair appeared behind him and slid his arm around the boy at the door, “Mark, put on a shirt. She is obviously flustered.”

The boy named Mark looked down at himself, only in a trouser and blushed. He excused himself quickly to jog towards the bedroom while the other boy suddenly held your chin and made eye contact with yours, “so, what’s your purpose to be here?”

“I…I am going to live here.”

He smirked, “that easily? You think I will allow this?” as soon as he heard noise, he left your chin and stepped back.

You blinked and before you could reply to him, Mark came back and laughed, “Oh…I’m so sorry to keep you waiting outside for this long. Please come inside.” He slapped the other boy’s arm and gestured towards the bags. He pulled a trolley bag and the other one was still held by you. You forced a smile when the other boy smiled towards you and took the one from you.

Mark and him placed all your bags beside the table and sighed, “Taeyong, she is my new roommate. Meet her.”

Taeyong raised a brow at him and turned towards you before nodding, “a girl? Mark, don’t be freaky again like that. You can’t stay with her. I’m not allowing this.”

“No. It’s not like that. We are going to the same university and she is an international student. I was searching for a roommate to kill the boredom and she was searching for an accommodation and well, it's good we found each other.” He smiled towards you at the end of the statement.

Freaky again? Not like that? What does he mean?

Taeyong didn’t know what to say more but just nodded and sighed. He stepped away from the living room and disappeared behind a door. You were staring at the now closed door and didn’t notice the boy who placed a hand on your shoulder. When he noticed you flinching to his touch, he quickly apologized and stepped back, chuckling awkwardly.

“I am the roommate with whom you contacted.” He held his hand forward for a handshake. You stared at it and then at his face when he raised his brows to which you just smiled and shook his hands. “your name? ah…wait..oh shit…”

“y/n.” you said quietly.

“Sorry I am bad at remembering names.”

Taeyong came back into the living room when Mark guided you towards the couch and offered you a glass of water.  He looked at you and then at Mark, “don’t pretend to be like this Mark. You better know that’s not you.” He turned towards you, “the way he is acting towards you, just to let you know he is nothing like that.”

Nothing like that…

“Taeyong, if you don’t want to be late for the meeting then I suppose you should leave.” Mark said a bit annoyedly. The latter chuckled and grabbed an apple from the table and winked towards you before closing the apartment door behind him.

“Who is he?” you were still staring at the door and the same question running across your mind.

Mark scoffed before taking the glass from you and placing it near the sink, “my brother.”

You turned towards him, who was busy searching through a plastic bag on the counter, “is he going to stay here?”

He laughed and shook his head, “no way. I’m not living with him any day. He was just here last night because he fought with his friend and no girl let him inside the house. Just stay away from him and don’t let his actions bother you. I hope he didn’t make you feel weird for anything.”

His words for sure did confuse you.

 Mark’s eyes were round and curious when he asked you about your situation. You slightly shook your head even though you were weirded out about his brother’s earlier actions. Does he come here often? If Haechan hears about this then it's not going to be good as he would definitely find a way to create a scene with these two.

“You can freshen up. I will find a way to bring some breakfast for us.” He pointed towards the closed door, just opposite to the door earlier where he and his brother went inside, “that’s your room. The washroom is just in the corner behind that wall beside.”

 You nodded and got up to walk towards your room, “um…thank you.”

“hey, we are now friends and also roommates. No need to thank me.” he laughed awkwardly and you smiled.

“still I wanted to say this.”

.

.

.

The sunlight from the window kissing your face tenderly. Worn out, you sighed and covered your face, blocking the sunlight that shined on your weary eyes. Groaning, you turned off the phone and leaned back into the chair. You heard some shuffle sounds from behind but knowing who the person is, a smile crept on your face.

He is back home.

Don’t think otherwise, you just love to spend time with him a lot and it’s really boring to be alone at home and him staying out for too long.

You got up from the chair in the balcony and walked inside the doors. You couldn’t see his face because his back was towards you and he was in a racer jacket and a flower bouquet beside him.

Does he have a girlfriend?

The closer you got, the more things you noticed on the counter top. A bouquet, a greetings card and a gift box. Someone gave it to him or he is going to give it to someone? Curiously, you walked in and leaned on the wall to get a closer look. Just to stare at him. It's been one month that you are living with him under the same roof. Strangers to friends. That’s how your relationship developed between you two. That’s really a great development in just a month.

He was yet to notice you standing just a few feet away and staring at him. He was totally immersed into the phone, might be texting his girlfriend or some issues might be up with him. your eyes followed his side profile. His pretty nose bridge with thin cute lips with curved brows and black hair disheveled and his each twitch of the nose making his veins prominent on the crane of the neck, disappearing behind his jacket’s collar. His racer gloved palms scratched the jawline and you were somehow getting attracted to him.

His eyes are so pure.

Oh..wait…he is looking at you.

“y/n?” he smiled , running his fingers through his hair.

You licked your lips, “are you going somewhere?” you didn’t dare to look at him again, ignoring his obvious gaze on you, you stepped towards the refrigerator to take a bottle of water. You could hear him chuckle but then he placed his phone aside. You were mentally cursing yourself for him to catch you checking him out.

“yeah. Later in the evening. Not now. Do you need something?”

You drank a little and shook your head, answering politely, “no. just curious.”

He stood up, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the back of the chair, “I know I just came back but there’s something that came up. I hope you don’t mind me staying out for too long.”

Why is he asking you? It doesn’t like that you would be bothered by it and you have a say in this. He is just your roommate and he can do anything so there’s no reason for him to ask your opinion but it’s a good gesture from him.

“It's okay.” You eyed the things on the counter, he noticed your curiosity, “ I hope your date goes well.”

Confused, he creased his brows, “date?” then something clicked his mind when you gestured towards the things, he laughed again. He laughs a lot. “That's not mine. My brother told me to buy these things. Soon he would be coming to take these things and don’t know which girl he is going to give fake promises to.”

He said the words so nonchalantly. Do they not care about others' feelings? You felt sorry for that unknown girl. In this one month, you already got a grasp of his brother’s behavior and you simply hate him. but hearing Mark and his brother’s slight indication of his different personality makes you lost in thought. Is Mark also like him?

You gave him a muddled smile and drank the water again. But before you could place the bottle down, he grabbed it from your hand and started drinking from it. You gulped when you noticed how his Adam's apple poked attractively and few water droplets sliding down his smooth skin of the throat. What the hell are you thinking?

You shook off your thoughts, exited the kitchen and continued to grab your things from the chair in the balcony. You could feel him trailing behind you, close enough to know his presence. You casted a glance at him long enough to admire his handsome features standing in a black tee with black pants with zippers designed all over.

“y/n-“

“ I will be in my room for a while. You…you can speak to me later.” You hurriedly walked inside your room, closing your door, you decided to lie back in bed and blankly stared at the ceiling. You dialed a very familiar number which is always on the top and pressed the phone to your ears. Not after a full three rings, someone eagerly picked up your call.

“Hey! Did you just ditch me for the past weeks? Is your roommate so special to you now?”

You chuckled, “Hyuck…stop being dramatic. It’s not like that. I was busy with my university in this new place and he is helping me out a lot.”

“as he should. And…how are you, y/n?” he asked you in a low voice.

You sighed, “Haechan…” he hummed on the other side. He was breathing heavily hearing his name from your mouth, even though it's through the device yet he was having a warm feeling in his heart. You called him by his name, not just the nickname. But he also knew, that means you were thinking about something.

“what is it, y/n?”

“What's falling in love, Haechan?”

“Are you asking me? Are you in love?” coz I am with you…

You rolled your eyes, “just tell me, please.”

He hesitated and why would he not because it’s like you asked him to describe his feelings and situation with you. He gulped and looked over at the picture of you two in a frame hanging on his wall, “love is complicated.”

“how?”

“falling in love with someone is very easy. Too easy, just like falling on a slippery floor. Even if you try to grab for support yet you will fall. But the realization and the acceptance is the complicated part. You don't realize how and why you have fallen but somehow you love the feeling of love. You will feel lost and confused but at the same time there will be fear. A fear of losing the person or how to let the person know about it.” He sighed.

“and?”

“Even if you wanted to say your feelings to the person, to let the person a part of your dreamy thoughts yet you would step back in the fear of rejection. Sometimes a person falls in love already knowing that they won’t get a happy ending and it’s forbidden but still they do. They do fall in love. Sometimes you love to see that person happy so if it means you want to have them then also just let them go…just to let them be happy.”

“But what about the person who is falling in love?” you blinked, waiting for his response but he was silent. You called his name a few times but there were just some faint sounds and before you could call out his name again, he whispered your name.

“y/n… don’t hesitate to confess when there’s still time so you don’t have to regret later.”

“Do you have regrets?”

“No.”

Yes. but he still has time.

“You sound like you have fallen in love, hyuck.” Yes. It’s because I have. I am in love.

“y/n…I-“

You told him to pause a second when your conversation got interrupted by a few knocks on the door, “yeah?”

“It's me. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” You answered him and said in the call, “Mark is here. I will talk to you later.”

You cut the call quickly and tossed the phone to your side. Mark entered inside your room and looked around, “this room looks so neat and heavenly.”

You smiled, “thank you. I’m not like you who can’t keep his room tidy even for a whole minute.”

He protested quickly, “hey!” but quickly joined your laughing. He was again wearing the biker jacket and now holding the helmet in his arm and a blue bouquet in another hand.

“Are you here in my room for a reason?”

He nodded, “I’m leaving now and won’t be home until night. I will order some food for you and don’t worry, if anyone rings the bell then don’t open the door. Just call me quickly.” He looked at you seriously and when you just nodded, he raised a brow, “answer me, y/n. let me know that you heard me clearly.”

Did he just talk with you in a demanding way? Did he just ask for an answer? Are you hearing right? You stared at him and noticed him walking closer to you. You took a step back and then paused. No, what is he doing? You can just shout right now. Your back of the knee hit the bed but you stood strong, but your legs were weak under his intense gaze, he held your chin and fingers gazing over your cheeks. His leather gloves brushed against your skin when he made you look up, “please be safe for me.”

That’s how he left you dumbfounded after giving you a smile and walking out of the door.

People should also take permission before leaving the room just like when entering it. You kept staring at the space from where he just left.

What are you thinking, y/n? It's nothing. Haechan also says the same thing every time.

.

.

.

“where are you?”

You were scared and the way the person on call was near to yelling was making it worse. You scanned the surroundings and obviously no one was familiar in sight and your heart beat picking up with every little sound. It’s a cat or maybe a different animal. Yeah nothing more. Ghost? Far better than those creepy people. You were convincing yourself with these thoughts and now you were lost.

Earlier you were on a call with Hyuck when you parted ways with your university friends. It’s late in the evening as your five friends thought that it would be nice to spend some time after the exams got over and so you decided to go for a pub time. Everything was cool until one got a call from her boyfriend and two boys leaving for a club with their other friends, leaving you with Sera. She urged you to bring you to your place but you waved it off and bid goodbye.

You didn’t notice that there was a lack of transportation and you were all alone, few people staring at you. You scolded yourself for not taking someone’s help and so to avoid the fear of being alone, you dialed Hyuck’s number and started walking.

“Are you okay?”

The moment he heard your voice, he panicked. He didn’t know what to do but he swore he was going mad and worried for you. You typed the location in your GPS tracking but it’s not working. How could you be so irresponsible to not notice that you walked to an unknown neighborhood and then you were lost. But while being on the call and it was almost thirty minutes of being homeless, you got calls from Mark.

Why is he calling you? Maybe he needs something on the way back home?

And the moment you picked up the call, you were greeted with a groan and ‘where are you?’

“mark…”

“Tell me the address.” He demanded the full address where you went with your friends but still he couldn’t brush off the feelings of uneasiness. Why was he feeling like that? Oh. The address seems familiar. Wait, he knows this place. you are at a risky place. If only he would have known, he could have warned you. “listen to me. if there’s a place to hide nearby, hide there. I’ll be there soon and won't talk to anyone.”

“Mark…please come soon. I’m scared.” You clutched your bag tightly towards you and sweat visibly lining on your forehead.

He nodded, “I’m coming. Wait for me.”

And he did. He kept his promise.

At first you didn’t recognize the person on the bike. He was wearing a helmet. You were hiding behind a wooden fence. Yeah, not a good place to hide but still you didn’t have any other option so it was better to stay quiet and hide in the shadows. You thought the biker to be some kind of creepy dude but when your gaze fell on the familiar biker jacket he was wearing and then he called out your name.

“y/n! y/n…are you here?”

He got off the bike and took off his helmet to look around. There was no sight of you and you quickly ran towards him, back-hugging him and pressing your face to his back. “Mark.”

He looked down to the arms wrapped around him and caressed it when he found the grip tightened around his torso. He firmly held your hand and loosen your hold to turn around and engulf you in a hug. “it’s okay, y/n. I’m here.” Stroking your back and head, he ensured your safety.

Upon realizing the situation you were in, you parted yourself and tugged your hair back, “I’m sorry, I made you worried. I was reckless not to notice and got myself into danger.” He licked his lips and patted your head, noticing a slight hesitation in you. Is he crossing his border? Are you uncomfortable with him?

“don’t say sorry. Let’s go home. It’s not safe here.”

You were still looking down and nodded. He went towards the bike, holding your hand in his grip.

“get on quickly.” He said and put on the helmet again. You haven’t seen him ride a bike ever in these six months, you have only come across him while parking it in the parking area of the university or the apartment.

“Is it safe?” you asked quietly.

He laughed, the sound was muffled by his helmet. He swiped the face shield up and craned his neck to look at you, your scared pupils reflecting the street light staring back at him. He flicked the retention and put off the helmet just to get it on your head. You let out a surprise sound, “what are you doing?”

“making sure that you are safe.” He tightened the retention strap and smiled at you.

“What about you?” you raised your hand to undo the strap but he held your hand, “I don’t need. Your safety is more important.” Before you could speak anything more, he swiped down the face shield, shuttin you up and smirked.

He was still staring at you, there were some unspoken words behind those eyes. Some feelings which he himself wasn’t even sure about. He wanted to understand them and he was desperate to realize the meaning of them. The silence between you two broke because of the ring from your phone. You both glanced at the screen ‘Hyuck’.

The question hit Mark- Is he late? Or he never had any chance from the start?

“Who is he?”

Your gaze returned to his face, “my best friend.”

Best Friend…still a step ahead. Because he is just a friend or maybe even not.

“call him after we reach home. Now get on the bike.”

You knew Haechan was probably worried and that’s why he was calling to know your condition but also, you had to go home and you don’t want to speak on a call while riding a bike. You waited for the call to end and mount over the bike behind him. you didn’t know where to hold…his shoulders…his biceps…his torso-

“Is it your first time?” he asked you, meeting your gaze through the rear mirror. You shook your head, “no. I have been with Hyuck on bikes a lot.”

Look. He has already given her bike rides. Not one. But a lot.

Mark, you are late.

He gripped your wrists tightly wrapped around his torso, as if securing the tight knot. He felt your head resting against his back and a little smile appeared on his lips. You are comfortable with him and

“Thanks for coming, Mark.”

And you are thankful.

.

.

.

It’s been almost a year staying with him and your finals are nearing.

Something really changed the relationship between you two after that day.

Mark became a bit too flirty and of course, you didn’t complain. You were enjoying his company and well, a warm blanket of feelings was surrounding you these days.

Well, now whenever you are going out anywhere other than the university class timings. Sometimes if it’s too far or in the evening, he would convince you to give you a ride to the place and would call you when it’s time to return.

The thought of staying with a boy was a bit icky with you.

You had different imaginations regarding staying together. But to the positive point, you both were compatible with each other. Even sometimes more than you both wanted. He treats you in a way as if he knows you for too long. His friendliness really makes you wonder why Taeyong said not to trust his brother’s attitude. You haven’t found anything unusual yet.

Groaning you woke up from your sleep, your head was paining and your body felt so weak. You felt your body heating up for some reason and your eyes felt heavy. Your hands wandered to the bedside nightstand but your bottle was missing. Oh, you have mistakenly left it on the kitchen counter. You were so tired after returning home that you didn’t care to eat or clean your room and chose to somehow freshen up and go to sleep.

But the sleep didn’t last too long and now you are feeling sick. Managing to stand on your feet and walk towards the door, supporting yourself to nearby things in your grasp. Occasionally you were rubbing your forehead and stepped out of the room. The night lamps on the ceilings were on because there were times you both tripped over a few things at night so it was better to keep them on so that the dim lights could atleast help you.

The bottle was half filled and when you picked it up, you felt the world spinning around you. Taking a seat on the stools, you quickly drank the water and sighed in the end. You glanced at the door --- Mark is sleeping there. You should not make noise to disturb him. you placed the bottle back on the marbled top and extended your hands above the place and rested your head on top of them. You were repeating to yourself to have medicines but didn’t have the energy to do so. You closed your eyes, feeling the cold sensation of the marbles against your warm skin. you could hear the front door open and close but you shrugged it off with the thought that you might be imagining things or hearing things.

If there's a risk of someone attacking, you felt like dying from this fever before that.

A cold hand touched your forehead and brushed your hairs away from your face, “you are having fever, y/n.”

I know.

You nodded and hid your face into your arms. Not actually hearing what the person is saying to you. Was the person talking to you or might be with someone else or might be on a call-

“can you hear me, y/n?” oh, he is talking to you.

You hummed.

He lifted you up from the stool and held you in his arms, caressing your head and rested it on his chest. You managed to open your eyes to look at the person, unconsciously you smiled at the very familiar eyes to which the person returned the same gesture, “Mark…”

“yes. It’s me. don’t speak if you don’t want to.”

“but-“

“shh..let’s get to your room.”

You didn’t say a word just rubbing your forehead and he did notice it. He got you inside the room, putting you on the bed and sitting beside your head, to massage your forehead. He asked you about your medicine box and he was quick enough to bring a thermometer and medicine for fever. You quickly had it and closed your eyes when your head hit the mattress.

“where were you?” you asked him while still closing your eyes.

He was staring at you and caressed your head, “just somewhere.”

“Are you hiding something from me?”

He gulped, not knowing how to reply to you but somehow few words escaped his mouth, “No. it’s nothing. You don’t have to know about it. Go to sleep.” He held his palm over your eyes.

“Did you go to meet someone?” you held his wrist and looked at him. “I am just curious.”

“look…it’s nothing like that.”

“Why are you hesitating to tell me? I won’t get mad or query for an explanation. You can do anything, just I wanted to know if you are okay or in trouble.” You said slowly.

He shook his head and brushed back his hairs in frustration and held your cheek, “but I want you to get mad at me if I go to meet someone. I want you to feel jealous and ask me questions when you doubt me. I want you to wait for me and call me when you are in danger. I want to feel that my world is you. I love you, y/n.”

The sudden confession really worked as a miracle to your headache as it suddenly disappeared and then your shocked eyes met his desperate gaze. A gaze that’s saying you more words than his mouth did. You weakly held his hand, feeling his touch against your skin.

“Mark. Are you okay?”

He inhaled sharply before shaking his head and stroked your head before standing up.

“where are you going?”

“go to sleep, y/n. just forget what I said.” His quick steps led him to the door and before he could step out, he paused and turned around to find you were still looking at him, “Good-night.” Then he closed the door behind him.

If he really cared for your fever then he shouldn’t have said those things. Did you hear him right? You are not dreaming right? He said he loves you. And you?

‘don’t wait longer.’

‘don’t hesitate to confess…when there’s still a chance.’

Hyuck’s words were flooding your brain but before you could dwell on the thought more, your droopy eyes closed in slumber and the night fell low.

.

.

.

“Mark…wait.”

He flinched hearing your sudden voice from his back. He was wearing a black sleeveless shirt with a red wide border running across over his chest horizontally.

“yeah?”

“Are you leaving again?” you glanced at the clock, “so late at night.”

“Why are you still awake? Go back to sleep. You have university classes tomorrow.” He gestured towards your room and you shook your head. Approaching him, you stared deep into his eyes.

“Please tell me. Are you okay? We haven’t talked properly after that night and I have so much to ask you but here you are ignoring me and running away. We should talk. You and me.”

He licked his lips and raised a brow, “do you want to come with me?”

“where?”

“somewhere. The place I go to every night.” He waited for your reply. He noticed your eyes, contemplating the choice but suddenly you blurted out.

“take me there with you.”

And he did.

Fresh cold air hitting your face and your hair flowing with the wind. A bright smile illuminating your face and you were hugging him tightly. Whenever he tried to slow down, you shouted to turn up the speed and he likely did listen to you. He was smiling, watching you through the rear view. Neither of you were wearing a helmet, well that’s not a good idea but both of you debated against each other who should wear and ended up leaving the helmet behind. The only thing you said before getting on the bike was, “I feel safe with you.”

“and we will be safe when we are together.” Everytime he ensured your safety.

Reaching the place, you were confused yet you got off the bike and looked around. There was a car parked in the distance and two men were leaning against it. Mark parked the bike to the side of the bridge and patted your head, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You grabbed his forearm, “where are you going?”

“I’ll have a talk with them and return back. I promise. Wait for me.”

He walked towards the car and you squinted your eyes to get a better look. Mark greeted them with a hug and the shorter one hit his head jokingly and then you could hear laughs. The shorter one turned towards you and then you noticed that’s Taeyong, who waved at you but his smirk was not fully visible and the other one beside him still laughing was Jaehyun. You have seen him with Mark in a few pictures. What are they doing here?

The car drove in the other direction and Mark approached you.

“why are we here?”

He leaned forward to the cemented railing beside you and rested his elbows, clasping the palms together, “this place is special to me.”

“why?”

“coz I realized so many things.” He mumbled.

You mimicked his posture and stared at the sky, “and they are?”

“Do you know I’m not a regular citizen? You noticed my brother and Jaehyun earlier, we had a schedule today for a deal but I told him that I don’t want to get involved today.” He turned his head towards you, “I work as a spy and the fighter for the mafia gang which is led by my brother. I’m a messed up individual and this place is where it all started and ended.”

“you…you are a mafia member?”

He nodded, not knowing what to say more but still he wanted to clear his thoughts today. He will say everything to you. You wanted to talk and he will talk and will say everything to you as he can’t bottle up his feelings and emotions anymore.

Your phone vibrated again. It was vibrating for the last few minutes but you ignored it because something about Mark was hypnotizing and before you could look at the screen. Mark took away the phone and typed into something, you didn;t even protested against it. Are you so desperate for him?

He put the phone into his jeans pocket and returned his gaze to you.

“I never wanted to be a part of this but you know blood speaks faster than mind. My blood was to paint this shit in my life and somehow this intrigued me to dive deeper into this world. I started to love being in this world. It seemed I had everything but I was wrong. Even if I could get everything, I couldn’t get her.”

“who?” you were also surprised with your quick question.

“Sana.” he paused and then chuckled, “I loved her. I didn’t know what love was but she made me feel emotions which I had never felt before. She was always like a rainbow of hope and love but…it was all fake. She left me when she realized my secret. Can’t she accept me like this? That was the only thought left. I lost her and also a part of myself but…” he averted his eyes away. You could feel his body tensing up when you placed your hand above his. “but even if I’m like this, I'm a bad person. I want love too.”

“So you confessed to me to forget her?”

He shook his head before turning towards you, “I confessed to you because I felt safe with you. I felt I could vent to you after she left me hopeless in this place. But I don’t know if I’m able to protect you when I myself is the danger.”

You cupped his face, his fingers circling your wrist. He was leaning against your affectionate touch, “Mark. I feel safe with you too. I didn’t know about love and so I asked Hyuck about it and then I realized something that you don’t know how and when you will love someone but if you do it is because that’s the time you need it and the person would save you from the void.”

“don’t pity me. I just wanted to say this because you wanted to talk to me. you were curious where I went every night and returned home late. You were doubting me whenever I left university in a hurry. I don’t know but I just couldn’t see you in confusion and to feel that I am hiding something from you.”

You shook your head, “I am trying to embrace you. if you embrace the danger then it can’t hurt you.”

“don’t leave me like her.”

"Mark...it wasn't her fault either. She was obviously scared of the secret. You can see, I am taking this situation very logically but she was not ready to accept it. Maybe you both were not destined and it was better for her to leave, preventing some further complications."

"And are we destined?"

You were at a loss of words. Destined? It was easy to give lectures to others but when it came to you, you were hit with the same emotions as him.

"I don't know..." you trailed off.

He scoffed, "are you going to leave me too? Now you know me...the real me." He chuckled and stepped back, "wait...what am I even saying? We are not even friends. Hyuck is your best friend and if you have to choose someone then you would definitely choose him. You asked him about love and here I am trying to get what is already someone else’s.”

“No.'' You raised your voice and maintained eye contact with him. you stepped front to stand near him. “I am not his, Mark. Don’t think of this as if I’m trying to convince you but he is my best friend and he is special to me because I got him when I needed someone and he stayed with me. He proved to me every time that he is someone to me whom nobody can ever replace but you are a person who made me feel needed even when I had everything.”

“What am I to you?”

“what do you want to be?” you asked confidently.

“your home where you will be safe and where I feel safe with you.” His palm rested on your cheek and you closed your eyes and inhaled.

He tugged a strand of hairs behind your ear, scanning your every little twitch of your facial expression. You are really his dream girl and his safe place. Even if this cruel and harsh world is incomparable to your innocence, he always makes sure to keep you safe with him. He never realized that he could love someone after Sana but something in you pulled him and can’t help but he fell in love with you.

Is it love?

“What's love?”

“Are you asking me?” hearing his question, you parted your eyelids and nodded.

You smiled and held his wrist with both of your hands, “you said I asked about it to Hyuck then you tell me. Now, I’m asking you.”

“To me…Love is you. But I can’t explain. I want to show you. To show how different you make me see things and feel them.”

You chuckled, “you suck at explaining.”

“The possibility to show my explanation in action is gonna be better for you.” He laughed and his fingers caressed your face.

“mark…”you whispered his name, making him nod and urging you to speak more. “I love you.”

“I love you too, y/n. Just trust me.”

“I will. Always.”

He licked his lips before asking slowly, “Can I be your boyfriend?”

As soon as you nodded, he engulfed you in a hug and kissed your head, smiling and nuzzling his nose into your hair. His one hand holding the back of your head and the other caressing your back. Your arms wrapped around his body tightly and pressing your head against his chest.

The thing you didn’t notice was that a boy was standing in the distance behind you, watching you two for a while. His tight fist and clenched jaw, anger bubbling inside him and hot tears running down his cheeks, as if he wanted revenge for something or maybe he wanted something which was slipping from his hand.

Mark caught the gaze of the boy who was glaring at him and as the boy was about to take a step ahead towards both of you, Mark asked you without breaking eye contact with the boy, “Am I late, y/n?”

“No.”

The boy halted in his steps, a tear fell from his eyes. 

A Tear of losing.

Mark smirked and kissed your head, hovering his lips a little longer. When he felt you pulling back, he averted his eyes from him to you and smiled affectionately.

The sweetest smile you have seen.

“Let's go home.”

He nodded and kissed your forehead. He intertwined his fingers with yours and turned around to walk towards the bike. You asked for your phone from the pocket and convinced Mark to click a picture of your hands holding each other but somehow the phone fell from your grasp. You bent down to pick it up and glanced towards the other way and could see a boy walking away in the darkness of the lonely road.

The familiar back. The way he was walking and your favorite flower in his hand. A certain person came across your mind and you felt a tug in your heart. Is that him?

“Haechan…” you whispered to yourself.

Tears were helplessly running down his cheeks while walking away and he clutched the flower tightly, “I am late, y/n.”

“I couldn’t save you from the danger you stepped in.”

[Anyways he is MY MAN 🎀] both Hyuck and Mark😉

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated. Spread love not hate.

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @meowmeeps @vtyb23 @haechansbbg @corneliarstreet

[open!]

[drysdalesworld]

PHASE TWO — always trust the match maker (jamie’s version)

part one

pairing: jamie drysdale x reader

genre: fluff (lots of it tbh)

word count: 4.8k+

warning(s): trev getting too smug about being cupid, georgie being (*forcefully*) dragged into trevor’s ideas, reader cannot skate in this part so if you can please just pretend 🙏, meddling trev, confessions of love (FINALLY JESUS), mentions of parties + alcohol, & a teeny tiny makeout sesh (BOOMSHAKALAKA)

note: decided to replace the gifs with pictures bc they seem more aesthetically pleasing to my eyes & are a little summary as to what will/may be in the fic <3 brittany is an oc that i made up for the plot who is mason mctavish’s girlfriend. also, thinking of doing a bonus chapter/part 3 inspired by “meet the parents” but idk 🤷‍♀️ let me know if you’d like that! (or i could do a poll for it) sorry that the ending is a little rushed, i was just so excited to get it out <3

“You know she can’t skate, right?”.

If looks could kill, Trevor Zegras would be six feet under at the moment.

Georgie didn’t understand the man’s fascination with getting her roommate and his teammate together. She could see the attraction they shared but would rather not meddle with it. Trevor and his want of being involved in everything is really shining through in this current moment.

“That’s perfect! Jamie’ll be right there to swoop in and save her from falling. See? My plan is perfect, Gigi!” Trevor exclaimed, eyes shining with excitement and anticipation.

His current plan for ‘phase two’ of his plan to get you and Jamie together included the family skating event that the Anaheim Ducks were hosting later in the week and since neither Jamie nor Trevor had family in California, it was a perfect idea to recruit you and your roommate as their plus ones for the night. He’d pair himself up with Georgie while Jamie was paired with you. It was perfect in his eyes. Nothing could go wrong and that night would be the night where everything fell into place and the both of you would finally get together after bearing witness to the mutual pining and obliviousness.

“Y’know this isn’t a rom-com movie, right?” Georgie scoffed out, eyes rolling and head shaking as she did so.

“I’m well aware thank you,” Trevor sassed, copying the actions of the woman in front of him. “You have nothing to worry about. She’ll be in great hands. Jamie won’t let her fall or anything”.

The woman across from him only hummed and crossed her arms over her chest, not fully believing in the blue eyed man. Whatever he’s planning, she thought, better be good. Poor girl deserves a break.

———

“You know I can’t skate, right?”.

The question seemed to hit Trevor in the face, eye nearly twitching in agitation.

“Yes. I’ve been made aware of that”.

“So why do you want me to go to your family skate so bad?”.

The blue eyed man nearly wanted to rip the ends of his hair out in frustration. Why couldn’t you just say yes without any questions? It was a simple question that required a simple answer.

“You can practice your skating skills! Everyone should at least learn how to skate one time in their life. Plus, neither Jamie or I have family in California and it’d be nice for you and Georgie to tag along,” he replied, internally on his hands and knees begging as he asked you.

“I’ll fall,” you retorted, arms crossed against your chest.

“Jamie or I will be there to catch you. Hell, if you want Mason to do it, I’ll make sure he will. Just…please come”.

Trevor’s words only caused you to sigh out, nerves already bunching in your stomach at the thought of stepping on the ice. It’s not that you haven’t skated before. It’s just that it’s been years since you have and even then, it was only your third time ever skating. You didn’t want to make yourself look like a fool and fall straight on your face.

“Promise?” You asked.

“Promise,” Trevor nodded.

“Don’t make me regret trusting you, Zegras”.

“I’d never. Scouts honor!”.

You had a feeling that you were going to regret agreeing to skating with Trevor. And you’d be proven right exactly four days after this interaction.

———

“If I slip and die, I’m going to haunt your ass!” You shrieked, hands out in front of you as you wobbled on the sleek ice, trying to balance yourself.

The force of laughter that left Jamie’s lips nearly knocked the both of you over, skates slipping back and forth on the ice as you tried to balance yourself once more.

You don’t know how you were in your right mind when you agreed to Trevor’s family skate idea. You immediately regretted it the minute you stepped onto the ice and nearly face planted. He had managed to catch you last minute, hauling you up as he laughed at your state, declaring you ‘Bambi on ice’.

You had been handed off to Jamie when Trevor decided to help Georgie, even though she had a lengthy history of skating and could manage on her own. He practically dragged you over to the Canadian before lightly shoving you into his frame, clinging onto Jamie’s outstretched arms as you cursed the Zegras boy out.

“You’re doing great so far! Just focus on what’s in front of you,” Jamie replied, the sweetest smile on his face as he continued to grasp your hands in his own. You were surprised he could still feel his hands from how tight you were gripping them. “It’s always hard the first couple of minutes on the ice. But it gets better as time goes on”.

“Says the professional skater”.

He grinned at your statement, eyes never straying from yours as he did so. You did have a point. Jamie had has ample time to refine his skating skills whereas you barely even touched the ice growing up.

“Okay, you got me there. But trust me. The more time you spend on the ice today, the easier it will be next time,” he added, eyes quickly darting behind him to make sure no one was behind him as he continued to skate backwards.

“Next time? Oh no! No. There will not be a next time! This is the only time I will be stepping on the ice,” you retorted, shaking your head.

Jamie only shook his head in response, grin still plastered on his face as the both of you continued to glide across the ice.

“It won’t be if Trevor has anything to do with it. Now, you’re doing great! Just keep bending your legs,” he replied, hands tightening their grip on yours ever so slightly.

A scoff was the only response to escape your lips as you continued to focus on skating properly, desperate to not fall on your face.

———

“So, how was it?”.

Hours had passed and you were all skated out, Jamie practically carrying you off the ice as you complained about how much your feet hurt.

A glare was shot in Trevor’s direction. His usual, stupid grin on his face as he plopped himself right next to you as Jamie untied your skates for you. (You had protested much on the fact. But he insisted on untying your laces for you. You could not refuse him after he practically pouted at you to let him.)

“I’m killing you when we get home,” you replied, massaging your foot once it was free from the tortuous confinement of the ice skate. “I can’t feel my feet, Trev!”.

“She did pretty good. Better than I expected,” Jamie commented, gently placing the other foot onto his thigh, fingers deftly untying the laces.

You let out a gasp of shock, gently nudging Jamie’s forehead as you pouted, “You have no faith in me at all!”.

The onyx haired man only chuckled at your response, shaking his head a little to fix his locks as he continued to aid you in getting out of your skates.

“From what I could see, you did well, babe” Georgie piqued, skates already off and tennis shoes on her feet. Her piercing eyes glared at Trevor for a second before returning to you, softening a bit.

You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her, a gentle smile on your face.

“All right,” Jamie murmured, softly taking your foot out of the unlaced skate and placing it on the ground underneath him. “You’re all ready to go!”.

“Thanks, Jimmy!” You spoke, stretching out that foot as you wiggled your toes and tried to relieve yourself of the soreness.

Trevor shot Georgie a look, something that neither you or Jamie noticed. The man wiggled his eyebrows a bit, earning an eye roll and a smack to the shoulder from the woman in front of him.

“McTavish is having a little get together later tonight if y’all are interested in joining,” Georgie commented, very discreetly kicking Trevor’s shin, earning a yelp from him.

“Oh, right! Something about starting the new season off with a bang or whatever,” the brunet added, rubbing his shin. That’ll definitely bruise.

“We should definitely go!” He continued, trying to gauge you and Jamie’s separate reactions to the suggestion.

You looked a little unsure, sparing a quick glance to Jamie as he absorbed the information given to him. Parties were never your thing to begin with. But it always managed to be fun if a certain Ducks player attended.

Jamie shrugged, hand still loosely holding onto your ankle, “Sure!”.

You nodded in response, a smile gracing your features as you looked at Georgie in confirmation.

“Great!” She exclaimed, hands clapping together as she ushered you up, ankle now becoming cold as Jamie’s hand slipped from it. “Us girls will get ready while you two do whatever. Just don’t forget (Y/N)’s drinks this time”.

Georgie shot a hard look at Trevor when she finished her commentary, glaring at him once more before she handed you your shoes and turned your back towards the two boys.

The blue eyed man only rolled his eyes and scoffed, arms crossing over his chest.

“She’s right. Don’t forget it,” Jamie added, including his, in Trevor’s opinion, unwanted input.

“I won’t, lover boy,” Trevor scoffed, ruffling his friends hair before getting up himself, phase two already beginning to circle in his brain.

———

The ‘little get together’ Mason was throwing was, in fact, not little.

If you had to guess, you would say there were at least thirty people squished in Mason’s apartment. Every person there either seemed to be a player or a friend of a friend. You didn’t recognize most unfortunately.

People were bumping into one another as they mingled their way through the crowd to get somewhere else or greet another friend. It was overwhelming to say the least. And it didn’t help that once you stepped through the door, Georgie excused herself to go to the bathroom and left you by the overflowing coat rack Mason had stationed by the entrance to his apartment.

You were close to turning around and leaving the party when you heard someone shout your name—Trevor.

“And where do you think you’re going, missy?” He asked, two alcoholic beverages in hand. “You’ve barely been here thirty seconds and you already want to leave,” Trevor continued, tsking at you.

“This isn’t a little get together, Z,” you shouted, the music and loud talking in the small space making it hard to hear what Trevor was saying.

Trevor sheepishly shrugged. “It was!” He exclaimed, “But then Brittany wanted to bring some of her friends and then they wanted to bring some of their friends…”.

You only shook your head, snatching the familiar labeled beverage in his hand and cracking it open before he finished his sentence.

“But hey, Jamie’s here!” He excitedly shouted, a wide smile spreading on his lips. “He’s back in Mason’s room! I left him there to get you since Georgie texted me that you guys were here”.

A small blush crept onto your cheeks at the mention of the defenseman, warming up your face. Trevor had taken that reaction as a sign to grab your free hand and drag you to Mason’s room, squeezing his way through the numerous bodies littered across the room.

“It should be more peaceful in there,” Trevor commented, turning his head a little bit so you could hear him. He knew how you got with large enough crowds and had personally asked Mason if you could stay in there for a majority of the time so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed. (Not that getting you into Mason’s room with Jamie was a part of his plan, of course not!)

Once you had reached the pearl white wooden door, Trevor had quickly ushered you in before closing the door behind himself, trying extremely hard to keep a straight face so as to not blow his cover.

Jamie was seated on Mason’s bed, elbows on knees as he was scrolling through whatever app he had on his phone. His dark hair had fallen forward due to the position, causing Jamie to have to push back the strands to get a good look at whoever walked into the room.

A smile broke onto his lips once he saw that it was you. “Hey,” he spoke, turning off his phone and throwing it to the left of him, the device making contact with the soft pillows.

“(Y/N/N) here tried to run. But, I caught her in time before she could make an escape. You’re welcome,” Trevor praised himself, giving a little bow to Jamie and you.

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your beverage. “Oh, why, thank you so much, Trev!”.

Only a wide grin was Trevor’s response to your quip, teeth on full display as his blue eyes twinkled with an all too familiar look.

But before you could question what he was up to, a loud knock came from behind Mason’s bedroom door, catching the attention of all three of you in the room.

The door opened to reveal Lukáš Dostál, one of the Ducks goalies. He had a sheepish smile on his face as he called out to Trevor, telling him that Mason needed him real quick before slowly backing away from the door frame to allow space for the center player to get through.

“Alright,” Trevor spoke, clapping his hands together, or at least as much as he could with his beer in hand. “I must depart. So, I’ll leave you two alone. Don’t miss me too much now”.

A fake laugh escaped your lips as the boy exited the room, the loud slam and click of the door echoing throughout the room. Trevor shot you a small wink just before he completely disappeared behind the door.

“He’s up to something,” Jamie commented, eyes squinted at the door, gaze lingering on the general area Trevor stood just moments prior.

“I was about to say the same thing, Drysdale” you murmured, non dominant hand on hip as your dominant one still held your cool beverage.

“You’d think we’d have a sixth sense for this,” he chuckled, fingers raking through his dark hair. “With all the shit he pulls, you’d think we’d be better at recognizing when he’s up to something”.

You smiled at his comment, nodding with what he was saying as you took a sip of your drink. Trying to pinpoint what exactly Trevor was up to was always a hard feat—something that you hadn’t quite mastered yet even after all these years of knowing him.

“He’s sneaky. Too much for his own good sometimes,” you spoke, flopping onto Mason’s bed, cup already emptied and discarded somewhere amongst the room.

Jamie only hummed in response as he felt your weight dip the mattress, the force of it nearly forcing him backwards, his left hand going behind him in order to stop himself from crushing you.

From his position, Jamie could see every faint freckle on your face and every birthmark that painted your skin. You were wearing a black baby tee that had two pink magic eight balls positioned as cherries, tied by a ribbon on the very front. The necklace that held your first initial laid in the middle of your chest, moving up and down with each breath you took. The jeans you were wearing hugged your figure perfectly. Your eyelids were gently closed and from time to time, he could see your eyes move underneath the lids. Your hair splayed around your head like a halo, shining in the overhead light. To Jamie, you looked like an angel sent from above—so pretty and kind and captivating. He couldn’t believe he had met you when he did. He felt so blessed to get the privilege to be in your life, in whatever way you deemed appropriate.

“Trevor’s special. In more ways than one,” Jamie chuckled.

His comment made you laugh, your head thrown back against the sheet as your legs lifted up to your chest as they kicked instinctually from laughter.

Your reaction made Jamie smile and blush, blood rushing up his neck to his cheeks, dusting his face a light pink color.

“I’m surprised we’re still friends with him,” you wheezed out. “With all the shit he’s pulled, he should’ve been blocked a long time ago”.

Jamie chuckled and nodded in response.

His heart was beating extremely fast, something it did regularly when Jamie was in your presence. He also had a hard time breathing too, but who wouldn’t?

A comfortable silence had settled between you two. You still laid down on Mason’s bed, eyes delicately closed and breathing steady as you tried not to fall asleep on the comfortable mattress.

The loud chatter of those outside Mason’s bedroom was only an afterthought as the two of you continued to bask in the comfortable silence. The domesticity of it all made Jamie’s heart lurch and his mind race. It wasn’t an entirely domestic scene, but it was enough for him. You are always enough for him.

The man wasn’t going to lie about how he knew about Trevor’s “masterful plan”. He had figured it out quickly after he heard his roommate mumble to himself about how his plan failed after that one party at their shared apartment. Confiding in Georgie only proved Jamie’s suspicions right—the redhead practically spilling every thought and plan Trevor had come up with in an attempt to get the two of you together. Jamie had nearly died at Georgie’s confession. That was the only confirmation he needed to pull up his bootstraps and finally work up the courage to confess to you. And, of course, Jamie knew of Trevor’s idea of throwing you two in a room together in hopes of the two of you getting together.

“(Y/N)?”.

So, here goes nothing.

“Can I tell you something?”.

That question piqued your interest.

You opened your eyes and sat up, faces inches away from Jamie’s face as his eyes never left yours. Your cheeks burned pink from the proximity and you found yourself cursing at your low tolerance for alcohol. Another reason why you much preferred the colorful, fruity drinks many alcohol brand names created. You didn’t need much to feel the effects.

“Yeah. What’s up?” You asked, shifting yourself a bit so all of your weight wasn’t put onto your arms, leaning a little forward.

Jamie’s mouth suddenly went dry, the words caught in his throat as his brain tried to scramble for something—anything to say.

“Should I have not said that about Trev?” You wearily asked, worried he took what you said about his best friend to heart. “Because I didn’t mean that! He’s a cool guy, really! Can be a bit annoying, but I’d never block him. Unless he did, like, something incredibly stupid like—”.

“No.” Jamie simply stated, it coming out more as a croak than a word. He cleared his throat before continuing.

“No. It’s not about that. I honestly agree with everything you said”.

That granted Jamie a smile of yours that he so desperately loved seeing on you. He copied your smile, licking his lips before then.

“It’s just—Damn. I didn’t think it’d be this hard,” he whispered, head slightly shaking as his eyes darted from place to place, nerves tingling throughout his entire body.

“What? That what would be hard, J?” You softly ask, hand coming up to gently grip his bicep in a comforting grasp.

The skin you touched felt like it was on fire to Jamie. Every time you touched him, sparks erupted underneath his skin. It always felt nice. Like it was supposed to happen. Like you were supposed to be touching him.

“I’ve thought day and night about this nearly every day since I met you. Do you remember that? Trev was so excited to introduce you. He was practically buzzing off the walls with excitement,” Jamie begins, his own hand gravitating towards yours that still grasped his bicep, gently wrapping around your wrist.

You giggled at the memory. Trevor had been excited to introduce the two of you. He was dead set on Jamie being the one to rid you of your relationship disappointments. The man had commented many times how his friend and roommate Jamie could be your one. You very much doubted that statement. You had given up at that point. But the second you locked eyes with Jamie Drysdale, all bets went out the window. He was so sweet and so gentle in speaking with you and shaking your hand. You were sure if angels walked the Earth, Jamie was one of them. That night, after leaving the café Trevor brought you to, you had realized that the center hockey player was right about Jamie being the change for you. But you still had doubted that something as kind, as beautiful as Jamie would fall for someone like you.

“Trevor wouldn’t stop talking my ear off about all your little quirks,” you commented. “He told me about your sleep talking and how you always watch the Mighty Ducks series whenever you don’t feel well”.

“Of course he did,” Jamie snorted. “What didn’t he tell you.”

You only smiled in response as you waited for Jamie to continue whatever he was saying beforehand. The butterflies in your stomach swarming and hurriedly batting their wings. You weren’t sure what Jamie was trying to say. You just hoped that he wasn’t going to abruptly end the friendship you two had.

“Trevor had mentioned some things here and there about you. Honestly, I wasn’t sure who I was going to meet that day from how little he mentioned you. He refused to tell me anything and insisted that I actually talk to you to find out more about you. Which, I guess, I should thank him for because then I probably wouldn’t have connected with you the way I did.”.

“It’s forever sketched into my brain—that day. I remember how cold it was that morning and how you walked in with only jeans and a jacket on while I had too many layers on to count. I think my lungs stopped working the minute you walked through the café doors and we locked eyes. I nearly spilled my drink.”.

You both chuckled at that. You had a feeling of where this conversation was going to go and your brain nearly started to overheat from how hard you were thinking and trying not to just blurt out how you felt to him. You never got those long confessions from those you were interested in. And since you were now getting that, you didn’t want to interrupt and ruin the moment. So, you stayed quiet and silently urged Jamie to continue.

“I know it’s cliché to say, but I’m pretty sure I loved you the moment I saw you. Everything about you intrigued me. Everything about you was so enchanting and I couldn’t stop myself from being greedy and wanting to get to know you better. I don’t even think Trevor spoke to us once during the entire three hours we were there. It was hard having to leave and part ways. I wanted to spend more time with you.”.

“I called my Mom later that night and told her everything. She laughed at me and told me that something similar happened to her and my Dad. That I should keep you as close as I could. I’m pretty sure even she could tell that I was already taken aback by you. It was that night that I knew no one else could compare. I mean, it took you, what, five seconds to break me out of my shell and have me talking the entire morning. You were special for some reason and you’re something that I cannot imagine letting go.”.

“So, I guess what I am trying to say is, I think—No. I know that I’m in love with you. And I have been since Trevor uttered your name,” he finished.

Unshed tears gathered in your waterline, threatening to spill over as you took in what the man you had held so close to your heart for so long just confessed.

Jamie too had small tears gather at the corner of his eyes. His heart pounded against his chest as he tried to slow his breathing down. He poured his heart and soul out to you and he only hoped that you matched his feelings back.

“Oh, Jamie,” you whispered, voice full of emotion. “I too have loved you since the moment we met. I think I had a harder time coming to terms with it. I had some rocky relationships in the past that made me feel inadequate for love. For the longest time I thought I was only made for half assed love and the kind of love that made me feel empty when it was over. But, meeting you has changed everything. Meeting you has rewired my brain in so many ways that I can’t begin to tell you the impact you’ve had on me. Just you alone have made me believe all over again. You make love seem not as scary as I thought”.

By the time you reached the end of your sentence, Jamie had tears running down his pale cheeks. He knew of your less than satisfactory relationships and hoped that one day, he could change your mind. He didn’t think he’d actually achieve it as just your friend. He only hoped that he’d be able to do more as your partner.

Silence fell over the two of you again as you both sat there in a warm touchless embrace. Jamie’s hand still gripping yours. Eventually, he moved your hand from his bicep up to his lips, delicately kissing it before placing it on his cheek as he leaned into the soft flesh of your palm.

“I feel like that was really cheesy, no?” He whispered, a giggle falling from his lips.

You could only giggle and nod in response, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.

Your eyes met, both wet from the tears shedded. An unspoken question (Can I kiss you?) was asked between the two of you, a simple shake of your heads was the only confirmation you needed before leaning in and pressing your lips together.

Jamie’s lips were so, so soft that it made you want to cry all over again. His cologne was more pungent now that you were lip locked. The smell made you feel dizzy, your closed eyes not helping the slight vertigo sensation you felt. His unoccupied hand went to your cheek to pull you even closer, the need to become one ever so present in the air.

Your other hand went up to his soft locks, desperately tugging at the ends, making Jamie shudder at the feeling. You tried to get closer to the man, but the position the two of you were in was not ideal.

But, before you could pull away and climb into Jamie’s lap, the door to Mason’s bedroom slammed open, scaring the two of you away from each other.

“Holy shit! Yes!” A voice shouted, the owner jumping up and down as they squealed and shrieked in excitement.

“Trevor, what the fuck?!” You screamed, now lying on the bed sideways from the scare you received.

“I did it! I finally did it! You guys kissed! I am the ultimate matchmaker, bitches!” He continued, ignoring the glares he was getting from the two of you.

As Trevor began to dance in celebration in front of Jamie and you, you peeked a look at the man you just kissed only to see him smirking as he gazed at you.

But, the only thing you could do was shake your head and urge yourself forward, locking Jamie into another kiss.

“Ew! Hey, I’m right here! Just because you’re together now does not mean I consent to seeing you two eat each other’s faces,” Trevor exclaimed, a small smile on his face as he teasingly tsked at the two of you.

The only response to his comment was your middle finger as he slipped through the door again, careful to lock the door as to leave the two of you some peace and privacy.

———

( “So, did they do it?” Mason asked, feet propped up against the small table placed in front of his couch.

The Ducks player had originally been against Trevor’s “plan” but had ultimately agreed when he got sick and tired of Jamie moping around like a lost puppy after someone mentioned your name.

The smirk on Trevor’s face said it all.

“Good, hopefully he’ll stop looking like a lovesick fool every time someone mentions her,” he added, sipping his beer. “But you owe me big time, Zegras! I just don’t let anyone use my bedroom for their matchmaking plans”.

Trevor only saluted his teammate, uttering a sir yes sir! before practically skipping his way to Georgie to spill the beans.

Mason shook his head as he watched Trevor go, thinking about how much of a clean day tomorrow will be, headache already forming at the thought. )

[holrye]

A love she can't have

summary: a window into the sacred nights of a small island kingdoms queen and her lover

tags: plot divergence, smut, fluff, light angst, yearning, implied chubby reader (section is tiny)

a/n: ahhhh, so I'm super nervous to post this, lol. Im not the most confident in my writing, and I've been working on the idea for this for so long. tbh I don't know if I like how it turned out. I made so many different versions, and this is the only one that stuck. I hope you guys like it :)

One night, every six or seven months, the estate of this small island kingdom is empty.

No bustling of maids and butlers as they prepare meals and clean. The orange hue of the lights inside are dimmed and the sheer curtains are often drawn.

A tradition, some would call it. Others would say it's strange. What could the young ruler do all to her lonesome up in that immense estate? Does she force her staff to leave for nefarious reasons? What secrets could she be hiding? All fair questions that will go unanswered for as long as you live. 

Privacy as the ruler of a nation is somewhat expected to wane upon your coronation. The kings and queens before you knew this, and were mindful of it. But never has a ruler taken so many precautions as you on these particular nights. These nights were often random to the public as well, the only sign being when the staff are ushered from the large french doors at the estates entrance. 

What could the diligent leader be cooping herself up for?

Oh, if they only knew…

If your people only knew that their queen was hiding a scandalous affair, with a pirate no less. What would people think? They’d say you’d gone insane, and were seduced by some horrid marauder. You’d lose every ounce of power you gained and be left to fend for yourself. Not a thing to your name other than the clothes on your back, they’d raid the estate and denounce you. 

So, these nights are secret. Whispers between you and your midnight guest that never leave the halls of the estate.

Though the guest in question is far less worried about the conspicuousness of your meetings. Not because he lacks care for your reputation, but because some would say he's a bit obtuse. A fool in love with someone he should never associate with.

-

You only become aware of his visits hours before he arrives, leaving you little time to fruitfully convince your entire staff to leave. Though it sounds unchallenging, your estate employs hundreds of people. Gardeners, chefs, handmaids, every task you could do yourself is done for you, mostly at the behest of your late mother who ruled before you. 

There's only so many excuses you can use without sounding suspicious. You want them to spend the night with their families or you’d like the estate to yourself or you had an awful mark on your back you didn’t want anyone to see as you bathed (that last one only made your head maid look at you worried). 

By now, they’d chalked it up to your eccentricity. The queen is just a bit strange. It made you more likable to some, relatable. There was little judgment, at least to your face, though that too was likely because of your rank. You cared little, as long as they were all gone before he blew in. 

He usually arrived just before midnight, his boat tied just off shore. A small cove sat behind your estate, sharp boulders and thick shrubbery concealing it. This is where he hides his vessel, only doing so after it was nearly found the morning after by a gardener. 

You scolded him harshly in your letters through the following months.

You’d wait on your bedroom balcony, watching the bushes. Sitting at the small table, eagerly stirring your cup of tea and waiting. Your feet are bare, cold from the breeze and the stone underfoot. 

The chill of soft trepidation is a feeling you’ve come to know since you met him. An almost nauseous feeling in your stomach, stiff cold limbs, a heavy chest. The months worth of built up suspense that has you on the edge, tempting you to jump.

Only when a hint of tanned skin is seen through the leaves, does your chest tighten. The bush moves again and his body pushes through, nearly falling to the grass. He catches himself before looking up to your balcony.

A smile stretches his freckled cheeks, and his feet are moving again.

You stand, gulping the last drink from your cup before hastily fixing yourself. Crickets and his heavy breaths as he climbs up the balcony are the only noise throughout the garden. It seemingly makes your heart pound faster, anticipation building in your belly. 

With a few more pulls, the man hops over the banister and stands before you. A shallow and shaky breath leaves your nose. Months of letters, declarations of love and yearning built up to this meeting. It always feels like the first time, standing before him in your frilly nightgown. It's embarrassing and euphoric all at once.

“Long time, no see.” His voice is soft, smile apparent as he speaks.

You smile up at him, blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hello, my love.” Your voice is softer than you mean it to be. He moves a step closer, and you notice the small bundle of letters in his hand. They’re addressed to him and the handwriting is your soft cursive. You question his purpose in bringing them, but don’t ask. 

“Have you eaten?” You ask. It’s a silly question now that you think about it, the man is known for his appetite.

He nods, still smiling as he moves closer again. His hand meets your arm, slowly sliding up to lay against your neck. The movement is soft, his thumb caressing your jaw as he looks at you. 

Your arms move to his shoulders, broad and strong. They slip to the back of his neck, dark, wet hair matting to your hand. He smells of salt water and sweat. He likely had to snow to shore due to high tide, which completely engulfed the cove most nights.

His eyes droop, as he presses a hungry kiss to your lips. It has you curling into him, his full hand meeting your hip. His feet start to move you backward, against the cold stone wall behind you. His hand moves from your jaw to the space beside your head, stealing your breath as he kisses you. Your hands twist into his hair, keeping him there until you both break with a gasp. 

He moves his hand to your lower back, pulling you into him again only for you to press a palm to his mouth. His eyebrows twist as he looks at you.

“I have some things inside for you.” You say, cocking your head to the left.

“Of course you do.” He smiles at you again.

-

Your bedroom, a large rounded room with a bed much too big for one, is lit with hundreds of candles. Two bottles of champagne sit unopened on the table in the middle of the room with two glasses sat to the side. An array of cheeses, bread and fruit sit on a plate to the side as well.

The bedspread is soft below you, your eyes glued to the liquid in the flute as you listen to Ace read your writing. Your hand wrapped around his wrist and your head rests against his hip as his voice nearly soothes you to sleep. You want to make a bed out of his tambre and sleep in it forever.

“I fear the selfishness I feel when you aren’t in my company. I cower at the thought of it boiling over and taking hold of me, interfering in my daily work. I yearn so much for the day I can be with you, freely, without the need to veil our flirtation. To think, I rule a nation as a queen. I wield power most only dream of, and yet I feel powerless in your absence. It nearly sickens me.” He pauses, looking at you over the parchment. 

“A kiss would satiate me for the time being. I soft kiss that speaks your tenor and goes by your name. I look forward to when we meet again, my love. May that heavenly time come soon.” He ends it by saying your signature out loud. He folds that paper again, placing it back in its envelope. 

The look on your face is melancholic, thinking back to the sadness you felt writing those letters to him. How much you missed him and what you would’ve done to see him at the time. It's embarrassing, listening to the heart you poured into the paper for him out loud.

He looks at you again, hand moving to the top of your head. He plays with the hair there, the comfortable silence taking the place of his voice.

“Is Edward well? I heard his health started declining again.” You ask, sipping from your glass again.

He nods, smile fading slightly as he speaks again.

“Yeah, the old man shouldn’t work himself as hard as he does. It's catching up to him.” Whitebeard was an acquaintance of your father, often meeting him for peace treaty signings. Even as a pirate, he’d earned your fathers respect.

“Hardworking as ever.” You smile.

He smiles as you sit up, finishing your glass off and setting it upon the bedside table. 

“You're one to talk, your highness.” He chuckles, extending his arm for you to lay against his chest.

“Ruling a kingdom is a lot of work. I do what I have to do. You’d think being a pirate, he’d use more of his free time being…free.” You say. A soft laugh leaves his chest as he nods his head.

“You’d think.” His voice evens out again as he looks down at you.

Your hand moves to cup his cheek, holding it there for a moment. It’s warm. Everything about Ace is. Whether it be his devil fruit or his personality. He warms your heart in a way you’ve never felt before. It makes it harder when you have to watch him leave, his broad form disappearing in the bushes. You’d say goodbye to him with tears in your eyes as he kissed your lips and abandon that warmth until you saw him again.

“You're so beautiful.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, biting your lip when your mouth speaks before you catch yourself. His lips quirk, eyes half-massed as he gazes at you.

“I could say the same about you, sweetheart.” He chuckles.

The room goes quiet again.

He takes your hand in his, pressing your palm to his lips. It's soft and he keeps moving up your arm, to your shoulder. He pauses a moment before looking at you again. 

“Is this okay?” He asks, kissing your shoulder again. A blush brightens your cheeks. You know what he's asking.

With a dry swallow, you nod and he smiles for the millionth time tonight. He climbs on top of you, moving from your collar bone up to your neck. Your hands move to his head, grasping the hair there at the sensation. He kisses the section just below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

A throaty chuckle falls from him as he starts his descent of your body. A kiss pressed to your collarbone, a kiss to your sternum, a kiss to your belly, it's all too much. His hands meet your hips, bunching the fabric of your dress slightly. He moves down, pressing soft kisses to the middle of your thighs.

“You're so soft.” He says, smiling into your sensitive skin. You sigh, wanting nothing more than for him to ravish you like he’s done so many times before. His hands bunch at the end of your skirt, slowly pulling it up inch by tantalizing inch. It's enough anticipation to make you sick. 

He raises the hem to your hips, your lacy undergarments showing. You sit up as he pulls it off of you, your breasts bouncing as they fall. He kisses your lips again, before laying you down on the bed again. Your knees press together, a familiar warmth swirling through your gut and into your core.

His hands land on your hips, softly squeezing the skin that lightly hangs over your panties. Your breath catches when he kneels at the edge of your bed, looping his fingers into your underwear and slipping them down your thighs.

He exhales loudly, seemingly holding his breath before. He takes your knees over his shoulders, nipping at the fat of your thighs. A long stripe from your inner thigh to your groin has you shaking. His hands move to yours scrunched up in the blankets, lacing your fingers together.

A slow lick to your clit leaves you breathless, eyes shutting as you squeeze his hands. 

“You taste so good.” it's muffled by your skin, but you understand him. He licks you again, softly sucking your clit into his mouth. 

His mouth is so warm and wet, it has you in a euphoric state. This feeling only he can give you, one that you want to feel forever. Making love to Ace felt otherworldly, no matter how many times you did it.

“Ace..ah-” Your voice is caught in your throat, his tongue moving down to your hole.

“Yes, my love?” His tone is mocking, as if demanding you answer him. Your lips are raw, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth as you try to speak.

Words fail you, one of your hands moving from his, to his head. Leverage.

He hums into you, slipping his tongue in and out of you a few times before replacing it with his finger. His mouth moves back to your clit and your seeing stars, the blinding white matching the pace of the growing knot in your stomach.

“Ace-” You sigh as your muscles tense up. Your orgasm hits you in waves, leaving your thighs shaking around his face. He sucks the soft skin around your pussy as you come down, hands moving to your thighs.

“Mm, baby…” He says, his voice hoarse as he moves up to your face. Your skin is sticky, hair sticking to your face and palms sweating. He kisses you, the heady taste of yourself on his tongue. Your hands move to his face, draping your arms around his neck.

With little hesitation, he reaches for the buckle of his shorts, dropping them and climbing on top of you. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his hips. 

“You ready?” He asks, and you nuzzle your nose into his. With a huff, he’s pushing in and the both of you sigh loudly at the contact. His movements start slow, smooth.

His hips meet yours and your eyes go white. His hand rests next to your head, his thrusts making his bicep flex a bit. It makes you drool, pressing a kiss to his wrist as he evens out his pace.

“You feel so good…hah-” His breathing is erratic and his other hand moves to the fold of your knee. Your head falls back, moans leaving you otherwise speechless. It feels so good, you can’t move.

His pace picks up, quickening as both of you approach your highs. Your breathing is stunted and your eyes are clenched shut. Ace moves his face to the crook of your neck, licking a strip up to your chin. Everything is perfect.

“I love you.” You say, looking him in the eyes. You swear you feel his cock throb inside you.

“I love you too, your highness.” He smirks.

With two or three deep thrusts, he’s finishing inside you. You scream, voice breaking when you finally cum again. He thrusts a couple more times, only pulling out when his cock stops throbbing. Your pussy clenches around nothing, his cum dripping out of you onto the pristine sheets. 

He falls into the empty space next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as you clench your thighs together again. The aftershocks leave you drowsy and you roll in to his chest, drifting to sleep.

-

You don’t wake again until the early morning the next day. Ace is awake, his warm hands brushing through your hair. Your eyes scrunch at the brightening horizon before looking back at him.

“You sleep ok?” He asks.

You nod, kissing his jaw before rising to stretch. He rubs a hand down your back and gets out of bed.

Mornings after he visits are melancholy, knowing the inevitable has come to pass yet again. He’ll leave you for another period of time unknown to him or you. Your letters will be the only form of communication you'll have for months. It’s all a bit too much to bear.

You rise, hugging him from behind as he puts his clothes back on. Freckles decorate his back and shoulders and you want to count every one of them.

Before you know it, you stand looking up at him on your balcony wrapped in a sheet. His kiss is as warm as ever, not wanting to leave. You hold him there for a while, tears nearly forming in your eyes already.

“I’ll see you soon.” You nearly whimper. He wipes your eyes with his thumbs, smiling at you. 

“I’ll keep you in my thoughts, my love.” He smiles and you remember your gift you still have to give him.

“Wait!” You say, scurrying inside and grabbing a small locket off of your vanity. You hand it to him, and he opens it.

“Keep it close to your heart.” You say. The picture inside is of you, and it warms his heart. A smile creases his eyes as kisses you again. He kisses your cheeks and your forehead as the sun starts to show over the horizon.

“I love you.” He says, slowly stepping back and over the banaster. You reach your hands out one last time, cupping his face and kissing him before he climbs down and runs through the garden. 

With one final wave and kiss to his palm, he disappears into the greenery.

-

No one knows why the queen hides herself away certain nights of the year. Maybe shes up to nefarious activities. Maybe she does have secrets. 

Maybe she's just in love with someone she can’t have.

[paperclipps7]

speaking of toxic yuri, what ships are 'canon' within the Dead End? i'm very curious and i will be grading your tastes. for legal purposes that is a joke

Ships are definetly not going to be a major plot point for The Dead End, more a little side thing to help out if I want to do something fluff (or angst, probably angst).

The most obvious one is Shellevision. Its my favorite, I like it a lot, it makes me happy. Their dynamic would definetly boil down to just the fact that theyre the only ones who care about the other, and they both want to make sure that connection stays, which is why they went off on their own. Vee defends Shelly from basically everything, Shelly repairs Vee and keeps her running. Its a symbiotic relationship tbh. Im not sure how much outward romance The Dead End would have as its not really the focus, but on a personal level, yeah theyre together, though if someone wanted to interpret their relationship as just close allies than by all means.

Theres the previously mentioned toxic yuri Slotmachine. Gigi and Scraps have a sort of rivalry going on. Gigi likes pushing Scraps' buttons and trying to steal her stuff, meanwhile Scraps is always chasing her out of New Gradenview. I like to imagine Scraps hates it in the moment but gets excessively bored without Gigi around.

Silent Melody (Flutter and Boxten) would work here since theyre in the same faction and both built a plane together, however I think in this context it would make more sense to just be real close friends, especially with Flutter being on fire the entire time.

Soggy Cookies (Ginger and Finn) is a rough one, because its one of my favorites that kinda works but not really. The Wanderer's are on good terms with Hazewood, so the two would have connections, but besides that theres not much to link them. Id have to workshop it more.

Brightcase is one I see more as a strained relationship in this AU. Rodger is constantly absorbed in his work and gives next to nobody the time of day unless theyre offering to help with his research. I feel like Brightney and him would get into arguments about whats right for Hazewood, as they both take on much more vocal roles than Bobette (who is the leader). Its kinda ironic considering how often I make them a nice married couple in my aus, this is a good change of pace I think.

The last two ships of mine I really love but they just wouldnt have a place in the AU, those being Sweethugs (Goob and Sprout), Christmas Party (Yatta and Bobette) and Poltergust (Connie and Tisha). Connie and Tisha would have basically no reason to interact besides Connie burying Tisha's corpses. And Goob and Sprout, while having no bad blood between them specifically, are in factions that do not get along. The same applies to Yatta and Bobette

Ultimately I think it would be fine for people to just toss ships around as they like in this AU, like I said its not very relationship focused and the only debatably canon ones are Shellevision and Slotmachine, and even then those can still be interpreted as close friends or rivals.