#still great even if the ending wasn't my favorite
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
across the hall; part 2 -quinn hughes-
summary: y/n moves in across the hall from quinn and in an emergency, she leaves her five-year old daughter in his care
word count: 1.3k
pairing: quinn hughes x reader, toxic ex-boyfriend x reader
notes: just a follow-up to the first part in the series :)
it had been 3 weeks and quinn had truly kept to his word. he allowed y/n to drop abby off at his place whenever she needed to run to work, or whenever she just wanted to have a few hours alone. he helped her whenever he was able to.
and she was thankful for his presence in their lives. without him, she would've gone insane.
wile she wasn't at work, quinn stopped by to bring y/n and abby some things he thought they'd like. most of the time it was dinner and other times, it was a book for y/n or a toy for abby.
abby loved to see him, not only for the toys, but for his company. he was her favorite person. and that didn't upset y/n at all.
okay. maybe it did just a little bit. but she loved seeing her daughter happy.
one night, while quinn and abby were waiting for y/n to get home from work, abby looked up at quinn with a smile.
"my mommy says you're a hockey player."
"yeah. i am."
"i've never watched hockey before. what's it like?"
quinn let out a chuckle and tried his best to explain the game to her. by the end of his description, abby was hooked.
"i wanna go to a game now."
"maybe your mom can get a night off and i can get you guys tickets for one of my upcoming home games."
"could you do that?"
"i'd have to talk it over with your mother first. but i can try."
"yay." she smiled. "love you quinn."
"love you too, sweetheart." quinn smiled and turned his attention back to the movie they were watching.
less than an hour later, y/n walked through her door and set her bag on the table. she went and joined quinn on the couch. he made room for her and smiled.
"how was work?"
"exhausting, as usual." she took a deep breath and looked at him. "how was babysitting?"
"can you really call it babysitting if you don't pay me?" he chuckled.
"i'm going to pay you eventually. i just never have the time to get the money out for you."
"it's okay. honestly. i don't mind spending time with abby. she's the sweetest kid in the world." he glanced down at the little girl sitting to his right. "oh, i hope you don't mind, but i think i got her hooked on hockey."
"how did you do that?"
"she told me she'd never watched hockey before and then she asked me to describe the game to her. then she said she wanted to go to a game and i told her i'd get you guys tickets if you were okay with it."
"i have this weekend off. when's your next home game?"
"saturday evening." he smiled, really loving how perfectly their schedules lined up.
"perfect. i'd love to go to a game."
"great. guess i'll see you there." quinn stood up and y/n walked him to the door.
"good night, quinn." y/n smiled and shut the door.
by the time saturday evening rolled around, y/n and abby were excited to watch quinn play. he brought over 2 vancouver jerseys for the girls before he left that morning and y/n thanked him.
as they made their way to the amazing seats quinn had gotten for them, y/n couldn't help but be awestruck at the sight. the players were skating around for warm-ups and when quinn skated past their seats, abby jumped up and down. y/n picked her up and brought her over to the glass just as quinn came back around. he tossed his puck over the glass and offered them both a smile before skating away.
"who was that?"brock asked as quinn came over to him.
"my neighbor and her kid."
"that's y/n?" he looked over at the girl behind the glass. "hmm. i always pictured her with red hair for some reason." he shrugged and kept skating. "still gorgeous though."
"relax, dude. you have a girlfriend."
"true. but you don't. why don't you make a move?"
"it's not like that. i'm just her occasional babysitter when she's busy, which is a lot." quinn sighed. he agreed with brock in the fact that she was gorgeous but he had his eye on someone else. he didn't want his friend to know that though. "besides, she just got to town after moving across the country to get away from her past."
"how much do you really know about her?"
"i know enough. can we focus on warm-ups?"
"sure thing, dude." brock skated away and started practicing his shots.
back on the bench, y/n and abby were watching quinn skate around. y/n's eyes didn't stay glued to him though. her eyes began following the blond quinn was just talking to. the one with boeser on the back of his jersey. there was something that drew her to him, but in a way, she felt like she was betraying quinn. then she looked over and saw a girl with a boeser jersey standing a few feet away. she waved to quinn's friend and he stopped to have a quick chat with her.
quinn stopped by y/n and abby again. "i really hope you guys enjoy the game tonight. i'm gonna play extra hard for the two loveliest ladies in the arena."
"as long as we're cheering for you, we'll be having fun."
"glad to hear that." he smiled and skated to his spot on the ice to begin the game.
as the game began, y/n watched as quinn got the puck and took the first shot on the Kings goal. he missed but abby started clapping anyway. she didn't quite understand the game but she was enjoying it anyway.
halfway through the second period, the canucks got on the board with the first goal of the night. the goal was made by boeser and the girl he was talking to cheered with delight. she then turned to y/n and smiled.
"hi. i saw you talking to quinn earlier. are you his girlfriend?"
"no. i'm just his neighbor." she smiled.
"oh, so you're the one he's always talking about?" the girl raised an eyebrow before smiling and extending her hand. "i'm bella, brock's girlfriend. it's nice to finally meet you."
"i'm y/n." she shook bella's hand and smiled. "i'd love to say that i knew who you were but quinn hasn't mentioned a lot of his friends. sorry."
"that's okay. he's like that sometimes." she smiled and looked at abby. "oh my goodness. you must be abby."
"that's me." the girl in y/n's arms smiled at bella.
"quinn has shown us so much pictures of you and i must say, you're much more adorable in person."
"thank you." abby giggled. "quinn says i get it from my mommy."
"oh, does he now?" bella raised an eyebrow. "that's cute."
"you never told me he said that, abby."
"he says it every night he watches me."
"oh." it was y/n's turn to raise an eyebrow. she felt her cheeks heat up quickly so she refocused on the game. and just in time to see quinn score a goal.
"i'm really glad you and quinn met. it was beginning to feel like he would never meet someone who could crack his moody personality."
"he's not that moody. or at least he hasn't been since i've met him."
"that's what i mean. he used to be so moody but since you came to town, he's changed. he talks more, smiles more. and he even plays better." bella grinned and watched the puck exchange between quinn and brock. "whatever you're doing, keep doing it."
"okay." y/n liked talking to bella. it was nice to finally have a conversation with someone who wasn't a child or a coworker. it was like she was an actual friend.
later that night, y/n was walking back to her apartment when she stopped in the middle of the hall. she couldn't believe her eyes.
"what the hell are you doing here?"
#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes#nhl imagine#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes fic#qh43#vancouver canucks
156 notes
·
View notes
Text
This is a rant about the 2023 Doctor Who specials. I was typing up another post about why I do like a bunch of other Who stories then got distracted so decided to make this.
I normally really try to be positive about Doctor Who. Everyone's tastes are valid, and if you like the 2023 specials I am genuinely glad that you do! I don't think these specials are objectively bad or the Death of The Show or anything like that, I just personally Do Not Like Them and have decided I want to rant about why. If you want some insight into how I think about these stories (or also don't like them and want to see someone else talk about why they didn't work for her) I hope you enjoy! But if you don't wanna read something like that, skip this and I promise I'll be nicer next post.
So I should probably start by saying that I am a Known Thirteen Defender and consider The Power of the Doctor to be my favorite episode the show has done, so it's fair to say that these three specials were probably never gonna be my favorites following that.
I also wasn't a huge fan of the Tenth Doctor on tv. He's been redeemed in my eyes by Big Finish and Titan Comics, but his tv run didn't do it for me. This means, much as I think David Tennant is a cool person (from what I know about him anyway), his return wasn't something I was exited about. I was exited to see Ncuti Gatwa as the new Doctor, so my reaction to the reveal that nope! David Tennant again! was basically anger that Gatwa was getting benched (and, yes, I know that the whole reason they did this was that Gatwa was busy and couldn't have done these specials. Still doesn't change my emotional reaction to that twist).
And finally, I cannot express in words how much I was not interested in Donna Noble returning. Don't get me wrong, I think Donna is a fantastically written character. But the reason she is so fascinating is because she is deeply relatable. She is a character who the audience is expertly designed to relate to and someone they would like. Meanwhile I, and I cannot stress this enough, am nothing like Donna Noble. I think I would like the character a lot more if I felt like she contrasted with the other Tenth Doctor companions, but she's the third modern-day earth human in a row, and I'm not interested in that archetype. So the result is I just kind of think of Donna as "that time they did Tegan again" and that's that.
All of this is to say that I doubt I would have totally loved the specials even if they'd been great. I wasn't interested in the core concepts. But even beyond that, they dropped the ball in my eyes.
So, the Star Beast.
I actually really like this episode for most of its runtime. Its an adaptation of a comic story from the 70s, and it does a great job balancing being faithful to its source material and actually being a good 2020s tv episode. I'm maybe not the hugest fan of the trial scene - the comic has a much more action-oriented way it handles the reveal - but overall, I really think this episode does a good job. I also love Shirley, and she was basically replacing Osgood. I love Osgood. Selling me on a character who was Osgood's replacement was gonna be hard, and they actually did it. Shirley is great. Rose is also great, too - like, she's not that deep or interesting, but like. I cannot emphasize enough how seeing a trans woman of color matters. And she's written well enough for the most part.
Of course then it falls apart at the end. The Doctor has to return Donna's memories and then it turns out she isn't going to die after all! Because she gave some of this energy to her daughter! And she can just give up the rest!
Okay, I am against any sort of "Donna's memories return" plotline, because Donna losing her memories is the emotional core that underruns all of her time with the Tenth Doctor and his time after her. Like, in my opinion, that one fact - that Donna loses everything she grew into while traveling with the Doctor - is the emotional underpinning of the back half of the Tenth Doctor era, so removing that makes that whole arc seem a lot cheaper and shallower in retrospect. I was expecting the midwipe thing to be undone, but I was expecting it to be an arc over all three episodes.
And all of that would apply if they had pulled this off well, but as you can probably tell, I do not think they did that. The "Rose got some of the Metacrisis" twist is decently pulled off, but the "we can let the regeneration energy go" thing... after how much grief the Tenth Doctor went through over this stuff, the concept that this would just not occur to him because he was a man (??) makes no sense to me. If there was a viable solution, he would have found it. And saying that women just intuitively get this better is super confusing and off-putting. And, for the record, I am in fact a woman.
I don't really have much to say about Wild Blue Yonder. It's basically a great example of a Meh episode for me. I don't care for it, but that's mostly because a lot of it feels like "the Doctor and Donna, back as normal for a new adventure!" and like I said above this isn't gonna be all that interesting if I don't like Donna. The actual barebones plot - the episode's structures and twists - is pretty good, but I haven't gotten a chance to like the new Doctor yet and I'm not into the companion.
And then the Giggle comes around and it has the Doctor commit mitosis out of nowhere and robs Ncuti Gatwa of having a proper post-regeneration story and doesn't even utilize the guest characters and makes Donna and Mel seem Special To The Doctor instead of the companions who I actually like who were just on the show and like I'm sorry but why did we have to leave Yaz and Ace and Tegan in the dust like that and (takes a deep breath).
Okay, let's go through all of that, but more slowly.
Much like The Star Beast, my problems with The Giggle are mostly about how it finishes. I have less good things to say about the build-up, but there's nothing all that bad. My only gripe is that for having Kate and Shirley and Mel, none of those characters feel like they had to be there - none of them do much except explain the plot to the Doctor. They don't really help resolve it. Compare The Power of the Doctor, which utilized all of its guest stars incredibly well - each of them was crucial to the narrative and the story as presented would not work without any of those characters doing the things they had done. (I guess you could argue Graham as an exception, but I feel like his setting up of the support group at the very end was more than enough to justify his presence in the narrative). This leaves Kate, Shirley, and Mel feeling underused.
And then we get to the bigeneration scene. Okay, first of all, the concept came out of nowhere. I've seen people defend it by pointing out all of the other things in the show that came out of nowhere, but, like. They had the basic lore of how regeneration worked locked down back in the 70s. Messing with that now doesn't feel like adding something new to the mythos, it feels like messing with a preexisting thing for... reasons?
And like that's the thing about the bigeneration. I just don't understand why, narratively, this makes a better story. Like I don't like the Timeless Child stuff either, but I can see how Chris Chibnall was going for new narrative opportunities. I don't see how we can return to Fourteen after this story and make an interesting narrative out of it without trampling on the point this story is trying to make: that the Doctor deserves to retire for a bit.
(Which is deeply funny if you stop to remember the amount of times the Doctor has been stuck in one time and place for some reason, but I don't need to get into that one).
I'm bothered by bigeneration mostly because of the fact that they robbed Ncuti Gatwa of a post-regeneration story. Having the Doctor recover from a regeneration and work out who they are is something I really really value and skipping over that with Gatwa is a disservice to him and his Doctor, in my mind.
The catch game also feels weird because Doctor Who is all about winning by being smart and brave and kind. Being good at catch isn't really smart or good or kind, so it being the solution feels like a cop out.
And finally, the show having the Doctor go and live with Donna stung for me, because, how many times can I say it, I don't care about Donna. However, we just left Yaz (my favorite NuWho companion), Ace (my one of my favorite classic series companions), and Tegan (who I don't love quite as much as Ace but also love very much), so the show going out of the way to claim the Doctor changed his face because he needed to find Donna to "come home" specifically feels like a slap in the face for all three of them.
I think that last bit is the reason I stay salty about the Giggle even over a year later. I acknowledge that Donna is a great companion, and I don't think I have to like her for her to be great. But to put her above three of my favorite companions like that stings.
And what really kills it for me is that I can see such a great story in this trillogy.
Like, imagine the Star Beast going as seen, except Donna actually dies when we expect her to. She saved London. She saved her daughter. But she died to do it. The Doctor, dealing badly with his grief, tries to flee in his Tardis, but Rose manages to follow him on board, demanding answers as to why her mom is now dead.
This leads straight into Wild Blue Yonder. The Doctor wants to get Rose home but they're both grieving Donna and she doesn't trust him one jot and blames him for her mother's death. The Not-Things try to play into this - driving a wedge between Rose and the Doctor, but the two manage to work together to work out what's going on and escape with their lives. In the process, they both heal a little. The Doctor accepts that Donna made her choice, and Rose accepts that the Doctor didn't kill her mother.
And then when they return to Earth in the Giggle, they are able to work together to stop the Toymaker. At the end, the Doctor is shot and actually regenerates as normal, but he's able to use his regeneration as a distraction, giving Rose the room to defeat the Toymaker. She is then able to help him get through his post-regenerative process and they leave on good terms. Rose is still grieving her mother, but she can understand why Donna chose to travel with the Doctor and she makes sure he knows he is still welcome in their house.
Like, come on. It's the same plots, basically, but it actually has an emotional arc that lasts longer than one episode, is in line with prior emotional arcs, and uses the heavily advertised trans woman of color that we all got exited for instead of benching her after the first story and gives her a good deal of depth.
(Yes I know if RTD had killed Donna off and replaced her with a trans woman of color there would have been so much bigoted backlash but I still think it would have been a better story).
Okay, I'm done now. If you have any counterarguments to this or want to add on to any of this, I do want to hear it! One thing I love about Doctor Who is that different people love it for different reasons and love different things. If you're a fan of The Giggle and read this anyway, then massive respect for making your way through all of this and I'd love to see you talk about why you loved it so much!
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
What are some of your favorite dagonet moments?
Dagonet characterization varies so wildly there are many examples from different texts where he’s like practically a different person.
Dagonet's originally from the Vulgate which tbh he’s mid there. There’s another text the name of which escapes me where he goes mad after the death of his wife. Love that. Apparently in Les Prophesies, Arthur leaves Dag in charge of running the court?? He's still the fool. He's not a different character, he just... also happens to be good at administrative work. Evidentially. I need an English translation of that so badly. I liked in Le Morte d'Arthur that he was the one to wear Mordred’s armor and jumpscare Mark? So funny that they all team up to pick on a bully. Very sexy of them. Tbh that might be one of my favorite Dagonet scenes ever. The absurdity is why it works. It's the perfect convergence of Dag as both a knight and professional goofball. We love to see it.
For retellings, Dagonet only appeared in Howard Pyle's second book The Story of The Champions of the Round Table (which also has all the Tristan stuff it's soo goooooddd) I loved Dag's cockerel shield idk I think that's so neat. If you see me referencing that in my books no you don't<3 Wish we had a full illustration of him with his cool shield... Pyle jester knight would have slayed. I do also like that Dag is the last one around for Arthur in Idylls of the King and I have a beautifully illustrated version which includes Dag in a kitty eared hood? He's officially a catgirl. Dag is really compelling in the work of Edwin Arlington Robinson, particularly Merlin. Robinson was cooking with that. Wise Dag my beloved. He's an important character in Richard Hovey's work, this quote from The Marriage of Guenevere was a hit with the macabre jester enjoyers but he's also integral to the plot of The Birth of Galahad as a messenger who gets to gossip with Brisen. Oh and I really liked him in A Lady in King Arthur's Court he was soooo weird and depressed<3 There's even an illustration of him! I did really enjoy the character in The Bright Sword by Les Grossman. He's soooooo unwell. :^D The reveal that he pick-pocketed an angel????? OKAY! BUT they didn't mourn his death which really left a bad taste in my mouth. So that sucked. In my mind everyone grieved deeply for him it wasn't just ignored</3
Dagonet has also appeared in two movies and a tv show. I didn't care for his portrayal in King Arthur (2004) although I did like that he adopted Lucan<3 and that Bors called him "Dag." Yoink, my nickname now! I haven't seen enough Kaamelott to judge him there but I want to. Eventually. He's so peak in Sword of Lancelot (1963), he gets to be a jester!! Picking on Mordred is his right. :^)
So yeah there's a lot of great Dagonet moments and probably even some I missed this list is all over the place but I think he should be in more stuff. I made like nine different shield emojis for him in the Theater Server for people to vote on and he ended up with three!
That's so many shields. One for each of Dag's personalities. That's more shield emojis than even Gawain or Perceval have (they got two each). This jester has captured my heart. Nobody ever said I don't pick favorites lol
#art by L#arthurian legend#arthuriana#arthurian mythology#arthurian literature#sir dagonet#dagonet#ask#anonymous
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prefacing this with I loved both this show and these two episodes:
I think the ending would’ve been better if they committed to Agatha being dead. I really do. I get that they’re probably trying to pull the “oh there’ll be more of those two” but I don’t think they needed to.
I think the ending would have been far more meaningful had Agatha stayed dead, her coming back as a ghost definitely makes sense and definitely holds merit for Billy’s story especially, but I really do think her being dead would’ve tied the story together so beautifully.
I loved episode 8, I loved the beginning of 9, I am disappointed by the ending though. Nevertheless, I loved this show. It was fantastic, I’m so glad to have watched it and I will probably rewatch it a million more times now that it’s over.
#agatha all along#agatha all along spoilers#i cried#not a small amount#it was very well written#i haven't enjoyed a show this much in a very long time#still great even if the ending wasn't my favorite#I can see why it they did it the way they did#i will miss this show
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
More progress being made. I finished re-reading The Illusion of Living this past Friday. It's a nice book. 👍 This was the last of the Bendy books in this "marathon" that I'm doing which I had already read previously and now I'm rereading, meaning that I'm kind of up to date when it comes to rereading all the books that were released until December 2021. But the race is not over yet. Soon I'll start Fade To Black, and (technically) I'll finally be up to date.
Just to continue my chain of posting about the books I finished (at least, the main ones that I really wanted to read) here it is…something I did at the beginning of March, on the night when shit went down. (I hope you know what I'm talking about). I saw the tweets first hand, I was there! Right at the damn moment. And it was..something reading those tweets alright. If the image above doesn't show it, my mood that night and the next 1-2 days wasn't so… great. You might read this and think I'm exaggerating, but that night especially I, uuhhh, I didn't feel good! And this image (and maybe 2 more posts I made that night) are the results of that. (And to think that a week before this happened, I had finished rereading DCTL after a long time. Talk about better/worse timing than this)
At least, if you want the bright side of this, it's that even after that day, I decided to continue with my book marathon, and I don't regret it. I was down that day, but I wasn't out yet damn it!! and I'm still not. (I don't know if this sentence makes a lot of sense, but you get my point)
As a bonus, here's something I did the night I got to the part where Henry is first mentioned in the book (you can consider this as a representation of my reaction when he's first mentioned, both for when I read TIOL for the first time in 2021, as now in this rereading)
Feat. canon Henry design and my fanon design for him (I wanted to include him here + I still read this book with my fan-designs in mind)
#bendy and the ink machine#batim#crookedsmile open his mouth#crookedsmile open his mouth;bendy#ABBY LAMBERT; IN MY HEART YOU ALWAYS BE CANON TO THE GAMES; I DON'T CARE WHAT THE OTHERS SAY#also;i'm a Henry Stein fan;could you tell#re-looking at the first image and realizing that I will probably have to change my Abby design eventually;specifically; the hair.#I'm sure this hair doesn't match with what was described in DCTL or TIOL;#It's going to be a little strange; I'm so used to drawing her like this; but hey; every now and then we have to make sacrifices#To summarize my thoughts on TIOL: it's a nice book! Although it is not my favorite among the other Bendy books written by Kress#It's great to see more of Joey; delving deeper into his character and seeing how he thinks and seeing more of his life before the studio#is an interesting read! but I still prefer stories like DCTL and TLO; you know;especially because these two also have the horror factor in#which;considering what TIOL is; it doesn't have it. It's still a good book tho. It's just not my favorite#and re: the whole book canonity thing: I was not happy! Wow; what a surprising thing to say#as someone who enjoyed the books;I was disappointed with what I thought was expanding the games universe;In the end;just wasn't doing it#like;ok;sure;that doesn't mean the books aren't worth reading; I'd say they are! but still;*points to the last tag*#Maybe; one day; in the future; I can even accept this decision and move on with life; you know. understand the why of this.#but in the current present? yeah;no. I will continue to ask myself why#I would say more; but Tumblr has a tag limit apparently so I'm running out of time. as a last message: read the books#regardless of what the devs say; I still think these things should be recognized.#that's all; peace
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
sisterhood of the...sisterhood of the hunting heart necklace 🥴😖🤐....
#ellipsis ellipsis ellipsis#yellowjackets#yellowjackets spoilers#just realized this looks insane 2 anyone that has not seen yj....tbh if u haven't yet u should it's great 👍 fun times 👍 stress equivalent#to the stress u feel watching succession 👍#anyway sisterhood of the traveling pants and yellowjackets enjoyers this one's for u 👆#ignore also that this doesn't rlly make sense like. grammatically. or in the context of the title of the movie in relation to the yj ep...#i'm trying to joke abt the ep bc it left me genuinely so distraught........like javi wasn't even a major character or anything but he#survived out there for two months on his own only for this to be his end....and like he's so young..he's just a kid.. and i know they ALL#are just kids but javi is the youngest of them all and idk having younger siblings myself that just affects me double bc he's like barely#15 at most....and he was trying to help natalie...like he was just trying to help and they let him drown...like drowning as a way of dying#always gets me extra badly bc it's so slow and desperate and ughhhh all of it combined just...agh :(#ANYWAY. it was still a really good ep and probably my favorite so far for the second season the pacing of this one worked really well
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
youtube
skinamarble hornets, i was like i hope my favorite skinamascene has been uplomarinked on youtube....reminds me of that season one marble hornets entry that's the First House Visit and how i saw it described somewhere as like "absolutely nothing happens, & it's terrifying" & it reminds me of the torment of watching as the series was released & Every Time something came out, no matter what happened in like setting, atmosphere, plot, scares, there'd be someone going "ugh another Nothing entry" over the most crucial &/or enjoyable shit so long as it didn't feature [& he's cookin hot dogs on the stove???] & didn't feature it like every other minute for good measure. as though a format that is predictable, like the promise of the same kind of scene in the same intervals of timing, would actually be scary or at all interesting. shoutout to these the entries, or even intervals of time within entries, where "absolutely nothing happens" and it's called suspense in knowing it Could, tension in an unsafe, uneasy, unsettling situation in the meantime, & then also potential followup recontextualization that only creates more tension for later similar material. ("absolutely nothing" happens (of course, actually, things happen, but) in the skinamarink scene save for the literal last few seconds when the "jumpscare" is a very brief change in audio & visuals which is neither actually that loud nor like showing anything scary(tm) (technically a la marble hornets i think people say you can like see an arm extend for a nanosecond but i never catch it if so lol) but rather hits at all because of 8 minutes of suspense & tension & Nothing Happening But It Could) (also bravely standing up like "it's fine that skinamarink has some jumpscares, including the obvious few even jumpier than this" like who cares if it's "easy" necessarily & also that Knowing such startlement can happen ramps up the tension even when it didn't, but it could've. like so)
#finally some Yeah Yayyy (horror i've seen that wasn't [all the stuff where at this point i may as well not even say i like horror])#i kind of do in the sense that i go Wheee at enjoyable [aaa tension aaa gripping the handlebars] like so. & some ppl don't#& that the genre can obviously express fun interesting things. skinamarink e.g. is one of the really few things where like#plenty of people can go ''so my avg tuesday as a four year old'' Like Me when you really don't see it portrayed well hardly at all#other like ''oh nooo the experience of child abuse'' in horror or in Anything is like. head in hands scream (not in a good way)#this has both the like often literal physical perspective of small children. the metaphorical perspective of small children#(like even if one's parents were Fine & not as much an omnipotent haunting temperamental presence either awol or insistently toying w/you#were you not likely stuck in a Living Space unless & until whichever adult you were landed with; tossup re: malice levels towards you;#decided to bring you out of it (or you had Official Transit somewhere like for school) & Even Then. stuck living with adult guardian#until legal adulthood anyways which Is literal multiple [live your Entire Life over again]s away when you're very small. & even then like#people generally can't actually up & Escape the instant they're eighteen. but anyways the One Zillion Years [Killing You] Loop applies#metaphorically. & the [Killing You] Loop Just B/c Someone Can applies to plenty of situations ppl aren't four but still lack power#anyways re: this specific clip my favorite element probably of this favorite scene are the perfectly quiet Technically Unthreatening audio#where the seeming parent voice is not Loud but is suddenly a) inexplicably close by & b) too Almost playful already#almost singsong; feeling just a tiny bit too slow. like that makes it Intrusive in this way & entirely unsettling & ominous lol. dissonant#& aptly resonates with [yeah i've had similar very young nightmaresque scenarios. about being called by parent figures]#apt when it's like & yeah growing up in the heck dimension trying to deal by fending for yourself or nervously catering to the entities#is like yes it's obviously The Horrors & it's also The Comedy (enough of the same thing)#also apt when the inspiration & evoked Experience is meant to be truly surreal. dream formatting#limited visuals in scope & depth & clarity; moving from one place or view to another without usual Logics of progression there. yolo#next favorite bit is the very end. avoiding having faces shown so much & then one as the only thing you see but very out of focus#and then nothing happens lol thee end. but you hold your breath peel off the armrests anyways! phone bit is great too. efficient#anyways still a hater over MH complainers ''ohh nothing happened oohh more trees'' like yeah yeah i'm sure you could pare it down#i'm sure you could pare down [looking at a wall] shots in skinamarink but who cares. It's Fine As Is & shaving it down risks ruining it#Youtube
1 note
·
View note
Text
MISSED YOU | chris sturniolo
| ".... god, i hate that i missed you so much"
pairing: dealer!chris x fem!reader
summary: your dealer has been out of town for almost two weeks and after he's finally back, he texts you needing to see you.
warnings; smut, dom!chris, sub!reader, p in v, pet names, praising, unprotected sex, dirty talking, hair pulling, rough sex, car sex, crying, public¿ sex, cursing, mdni
a/n: literally my first fanfic after a looong time so please bear with me, if its bad... you know why. english isnt my first language so sorry for any mistakes! also its a little long 😭 part two here !!
~~~
she laughed at some joke her friend made and took another bite of her pizza. it was late friday afternoon, she and her bestfriends were hanging out, since there was nothing else to do. everything was great, until her phone buzzed. she looks at her screen, immediately smiling when she sees his name. she wasn't even aware that her lips had curved into a smile.
her friends were too busy with their own conversation, so she uses her moment and grabs her phone, reading the message from chris. she hasn't heard from him in over two weeks, she had no clue what he was doing, or where he was. she also didn't want to ask, hating the feeling of being too desperate. and it's not like he owns her any explanation either.
chris: u busy?
she bites her lip, fighting the urge to smile again as she replies back.
y/n: hi to you too
y/n: yeah im out with friends, whats up
chris: having fun?
chris: when u gonna be home ma?
y/n: like in an hour or so
chris: can u hurry up? c'mon kid i miss ya
y/n: you do???
she can't help but genuinely grins this time, her eyes widen a little. did he miss her? or was he just saying that to make her give in? he always knew how to talk to her, to make her going feral over him. but she wanted to believe he means it this time.
chris: hell yeah i do
chris: get ur ass out here
she looks at her friends, that were still yapping about something, that she couldn't care less about right now. she needed to see him. he never said he missed her before.
y/n: then come pick me up, im sending u the address
chris: omw gorgeous
chris is already in his car, when she sends him the address. not being able to see her for over two weeks, made him think. A lot. he has been her drug dealer for over a year now, there was tension between them since the beginning, so it didnt take them long to finally fuck at some party a few months ago. and since then, it's happening every now and then, usually they meet to smoke together, then they end up all over each other.
after a few minutes, he parks the car in front of the pizzeria, finally seeing her. she made a stupid excuse for her friends to leave, not being able to hide her excitement, so they just could assume what was going on.
chris gets out of the car, looking her up and down, licking his lips as she was only wearing a black crop top and baggy camo pants. he personally loved those, especially on her.
he opens the door for her, a smirk playing on his lips. "get in."
she tried her hardest to act casual, but just seeing him after a while, in all black outfit, was enough to make her dizzy. and she could swear he got a haircut. his hair was so much shorter, and she loved it.
she smiles, keeping the eye contact while getting inside the car. he closes the door, his eyes roaming all over her body as she walked towards him. he snaps back to reality, getting to the other side and climbing back into the drivers seat. he was feeling so many things that he couldn't express.
"missed me so bad, you couldn't wait an hour, huh?" she speaks up, putting on the seatbelt and looking over at him, while he starts the car.
she notices the way he looks her up and down, his eyes stopping at her exposed skin a little too long.
"i've missed my favorite customer." he smirks, going back to the eye contact.
"yeah, your favorite customer... right." she says sarcastically, trying her hardest to keep her cool and not to blush under his stare.
he grins before replying, focused on keeping his hands on the wheel instead of her body. it was getting harder with every second. "yeah, the one i always gotta give free stuff to."
"oh, dont act like i force you to do this..." she scoffs, still looking at him. "you know i always want to pay you."
"i know y'do... doesn't mean i will stop givin' it to you for free though."
"see, and that's crazy."
chris rolls his eyes, loving and hating at the same time, how she always had to talk back to him. he's driving, planning to go to her house, but the way she's looking right now, and especially her attitude, is making him crazy. he feels his dick getting harder with every second.
"whatever, ma. i know you secretly like it."
"yeah, sure." she mumbles with sarcastic tone, her eyes still watching him. seeing him driving was one of her favorite things in the world, he always looked so good. she appreciates, that he gives her stuff for free or cuts down her prices, but dealing was his job, he was making money out of it, so she always felt bad when he didnt want her cash. "what made you busy for so long? thought the cops caught or some shit"
chris bites his lip, his eyes glancing over to her for a second, before focusing back on the road. he never felt so desperate like right now, just having her in his car like that...
once he hears her question, he snaps back to reality and smiles. "the cops? please, sweetheart, they can suck my dick."
chris changes his direction, spotting an empty parking lot and he drives there. "i was out of town, had to deal with some business... nothin' to worry about now." he explains, parking and turning off his car, and his stare travels to her, scanning her face and body. "you're so curious...."
she nods, now understanding why he wasn't texting her these past two weeks, she was a bit ashamed 'cause she honestly thought maybe he got bored of her, so she didn't text him either. she still got some weed until yesterday, so she also had no reason to.
"why would you stop here?" she asks, looking at him with a little frown, but once she sees his smirk, the realization hits her. the excitement filling her body, the tension between them so noticeable, it makes her shiver.
he stares at her for a moment, adjusting his pants and then suddenly he unbuckles his seatbelt, sitting back in his seat so there was more space now.
"c'mere."
her eyes travels down on his lap, seeing the noticeable big bulge even through his jeans. she blushes slightly, looking back at him, the smirk still playing on his lips and it makes her weak in her knees.
"chris..." he cuts her off by reaching over and grabbing her chin, tilting her face closer to his.
"y'gonna do what i said, or keep talking back?"
she immediately unbuckles her seatbelt, moving over the center console and she gets into his lap, straddling him. she wasn't gonna act like she didn't miss him too, because, goddamn, she did. she presses herself onto his hard dick, watching him closely, and seeing how desperate and frustrated he was right now. It made her feel a little bit of a power, that she decided to take advantage of.
"now, was that so hard, ma?" he smirks even more, trying to hide his growing need for her, but his hands moves to grip onto her thighs. he felt the urge to touch her all over.
"you know, fifteen more minutes and we would be at my place-"
"you really think, i would wait fifteen fucking minutes, when i havent seen you for two weeks, and you look like that?" he loves the way she looks at him, with such admiration. she was so pretty in his eyes, he never felt this type of desperation for anyone ever before.
"and who's fault is that?" his hands grips her tighter and puts her closer in on his lap, making a little bit of friction, that he so desperately needs. his fingers digging into her skin, while he stares into her eyes.
"shut up for once, yeah?"
"make me." she smirks, challenging him. he doesn't have to hear it twice, loving the attitude she's giving him right now. his hand moves up from her thigh to the back of her neck, pulling her face closer and he kisses her roughly, grabbing her ass with his other hand as he does.
she smiles against his lips, immediately kissing him back with the same intensity, and she grinds down against his clothed dick, feeling her own need growing with every second. she missed the way he kissed her, she missed his lips, his hands all over her, his body against hers. she missed him and she hated to admit that.
she slides her tongue into his mouth, he bites her lip in response and lets her lead the kiss. moving up his hips to feel her more and not being able to hold back, he groans against her lips. he never felt so needy before. he pulls away for a moment to speak, and starts trailing kisses down her neck, squeezing her ass, before his hand moves up, caressing the skin on her exposed stomach.
"god, i hate that i missed you so much."
it slips from his mouth, he doesn't think much about it as he sucks on her skin, but for her it meant everything. she tilts back her head, giving him more space and she grinds against his lap some more, running her hand through his brown hair. he lets out a growl as she grinds down on him, making him even harder and he bucks his hips up again. lifting up his head from her neck his stare finds hers, the noticeable lust in his eyes made her bite her lip to hold back a moan. the smirk coming back to his face once he notices her flushed cheeks.
"what 'bout you, huh, ma? missed me too?"
she closes her eyes, their face so close to each other, it makes their lips brush when she replies him back.
"yeah... i did"
he grins, his hands playing with the waistband of her pants. that's all he needed to know, that she missed him as much as he missed her. even though they both were aware, they should'nt.
"how much, hm?" he unzips her pants, she lifts herself up, gripping his shoulders to balance herself and helps him take them off. then she straddles him again, trying to hold back her smile, but not being able to.
"want me to show you?"
he groans after her words, feeling her wet panties pressing against his hard dick and he bucks up his hips again, being so desperate, that he was ready to beg her. he starts marking her neck again, his hand traveling between her legs, massaging her clit through her underwear. her breath hitches in her throat, she lets out a little whine and grips his hair slightly.
"so wet already... shiiiitttt... all this f'me, huh?" he says against her skin, bitting on it slightly and making her moan. he adds more pressure, circling over her clit. "lift this shit up."
his tone demanding, he wasn't asking. she lifts up her top, revealing her breasts. he looks at her now, his eyes going back and forth between her tits, and her face. "fuck... not wearing a bra? fuckin' slut..."
he licks her hard nipple, then starting sucking on it. her hand tightens in his hair, tilting her head back and she lets out more whimpers. she was supposed to be the one in control this time, she craved it and saw how needy he is, but the way he's touching her, makes her losing her mind. he then pulls her panties to the side, running his fingers through her wet folds and suddenly putting one inside her. not even giving her any time, he just starts pumping in and out, adding another finger after a moment, now stretching her out. he pulls away from her nipple, looking at her face.
"c-chris..." she moans quietly, trying her hardest to keep the eye contact, but struggles to do so. her hands now traveling down his chest and unbuckling his belt.
"yeah, ma? y'like that?" he tries to keep his cool, still working his fingers inside her dripping pussy, curling them and making her whine in response. "look at you... so, fuckin' desperate on my lap. missed my fingers, huh? want some more?"
she desperately nods, squeezing around his fingers, but once he feels that, he pulls them out immediately putting them in his mouth to lick them clean. she whines, pouting her lips when he stops.
"show me how much you missed this dick then."
she bites her lip, unzipping his pants and with his help, she pulls them down to his knees, his boxers following after a second. chris leans his head back against the seat, gripping her hips as she gives him a few strokes before pulling her underwear to the side. she runs her thumb over his tip, collecting the precum and spreading it all over his cock, using it as a lubricant and then she lowers herself slowly on his cock, the movement making them both moan out loud with pleasure. she stays like this for a moment, needing to adjust after these past two weeks without him.
"fuckk...so tight...your pussy was made f'me.." he groans, tightening his grip on her hips and he watches her closely, as she finally starts moving on him. he’s holding himself back from moving up his hips and taking over, trying so hard not to thrust into her. he loves the feeling of her body against his and he’s missed it so much. he needed it, he needed her and he hated that. the feeling just kept growing, making the space in the car feel even smaller.
he pulls her back down into another kiss, this time more sloppy, continuing to move his tongue against hers, tasting her. she kisses him back, starting speeding up her pace and now bouncing on him harder. his dick hitting just all the right spots, making her moan loudly while chris tries to focus on the kiss and not to lose his composure. he wanted to take over, he always did, but the feeling of her riding him like that, has him gripping the seat. he grits his teeth, trying to keep himself together and he knows his patience wont last long. he looks up at her again, his eyes glued to her face.
"fuckkkk, ma.... takin' all of me so well... shit..." he hisses, when she speeds up even more. "so good.... s-so good f'me...."
she grips into his shoulders more, moaning loudly at his praises and she continues moving. chris is in complete ecstasy as she picks the pace up, a feeling like he hasn’t experienced before. there's just something about her on top and taking what she wants, that's got him feeling so many things at once.
“fuck.. just like that” one of his hands grab her ass, giving it a squeeze and then slapping it. "fuckin' slut... you like it? fucking in my car? takin' it just like a little bitch.... yeah? shitttt..."
he moans now not being able to hold back, and he starts thrusting into her. she gasps for air, her eyes closing shut as she tightens around him. "oh, wanna cum, huh? not yet darlin'...." he grips her hips more, his tip hitting her g-spot with every move.
"chris i-"
she cuts herself off with another moan, not being able to think straight. she digs her nails into the back of his neck, her head falling down on his shoulder and he immediately stops. her eyes snap open, she lifts up her head to look at him, a smirk playing on his lips.
"you better don't look away f'me, ma.... wanna see your pretty face y'know? and keep makin' those sexy little sounds...got it?"
she nods, but it's not enough from him as he speaks up again. "use your words baby, c'mon... you aint that fucked out of your mind yet, hm?"
"i got it, just... please..." she whines, moving her hips, wanting to bounce on him again, but he stops her. she pouts. "chrissss......"
"get to the backseat." he demands, after scanning her face for a while. he wanted to give her all the pleasure she deserves. he wasn't even thinking about himself, he couldn't care less about his release. he just needed to make her feel good, making sure no one else can do what he can.
she pulls away from him, now moving over the center console again, struggling a bit but she gets into the backseat. chris obviously smacks her ass as she does, what makes her squeak.
"chris!"
but he just smirks, pulling off his pants and boxers all the way down and throwing it on the passenger seat, so it wasn't in the way. he gets on the back himself, there was little space, but enough to get into his favorite position. chris puts his hand on her back, forcing her to get on her knees and hands on the seat, as he positions himself behind her. chris loves the way he can get her all desperate and begging, so he teases her now. he moves his tip along her folds, making her whine. then he slowly puts it in, but after a few seconds he pulls back again.
"chris...." she whines, knowing he's playing with her now.
"yeah, baby?"
she bites her lip, her face pressing into the seat and she lifts up her hips more. "stop teasing me, please...."
he grins even more, slapping her pussy with his dick and then he suddenly pulls his cock all the way in, making her gasp and scream out of pleasure. the new angle let him hit all of her sweet spots.
"whatever you want, princess." he starts thrusting into her with a very intense and fast pace, going as deep as he could. the car now filled up with her moans and the sounds of skin slapping against each other. he grips her hips tight, keeping her in place. he can feel her squeezing around his cock again, and he lets out a growl. "c'mon.... cum all over me...wanna see you while y'do..."
chris moves one of his hands, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back, having a good view on her face. her mouth wide open, letting out loud moans, her eyes rolling back.
"oh my god!" she cries out, gripping the edge of the seat like her life depended on it and she releases, the wet, squelching sound coming from her now louder. he groans, kissing her neck and whispering into her ear.
"you feel so good... cummin' like that f'me... such a good girl.."
she moans, squeezing around him again, the overstimulation now making her shiver as he keeps going with the crazy pace, not slowing down at all. he lets go of her hair, her head immediately falling onto the seat and he grips by her hips again, making sure she feels him as deep as he wants her to. he growls, being on the edge himself.
"i'm... close.." he mutters, throwing his head back. "gonna fill you up, yeah?"
she whines nodding desperately, but then he smacks her ass giving her a sign to answer verbally.
"shit! yes, fuck, yes chris, please!" she feels tears filling up her eyes from the pleasure, a few of them coming down her cheeks moment later. chris bites his lip, feeling her tightening around him. he moves one of his hands between her legs, now rubbing her clit, while still thrusting hard into her, but his movements getting sloppier. she cries out, her legs trembling and his dick twitches, finally cumming inside her, his warm sticky release filling her up and dripping out of her. he curses under his breath, digging his fingers into her skin, leaving bruises as he does. she feels him cumming, and the overstimulation from him lazily massaging her clit and still hitting her g-spot, makes her finish again. the pressure in her stomach now becoming too much, unable to hold back, she feels the liquid squirts out of her in waves.
his eyes snap open, looking down at her and he growls. he slows down until he eventually stops, after they both ride out their highs, this time not wanting to overstimulate her. looking at the mess she made, he can't help but feel a bit cocky about it.
"shit, ma.... squirtin' all over me, huh? is it how it is now?" he smirks, a little surprised that he made her do that but he couldn't be more proud. he pulls out of her, letting go of her hips and her body immediately falls onto the seat. she's breathing heavily, not being able to reply yet. "that's my fuckin' girl.."
he runs his fingers along her inner thigh, collecting her and his cum and he leans in a bit, covering over her. he looks at her fucked out expression and the smudged mascara on her cheeks. "look at me."
she opens her eyes, her mind blank, body shaking. he puts his fingers into her mouth, she immediately cleans them up, tasting both his and her release on her tongue, making sure she keeps the eye contact with him while she does that.
"you're so hot." he says now kissing the tears on her cheeks away. "took me so well..."
she smiles, seeing his flushed cheeks and messy hair sticking to his forehead. it was her favorite view.
"y'good, kid? don't go all mute on me now.."
"don't call me that...." she mumbles, trying to get her sarcastic attitude back, but she was absolutely spent right now. "i'm fine."
he just grins, gently patting her cheek before he pulls away. she slowly lifts herself up, trying to fight her trembling legs and she sits up now, facing him. not being able to do anything more yet, her glare moving to her legs and the seat she made mess on. she feels her cheeks growing hotter, now suddenly embarrassed and trying to ignore his stare. this never happened to her with him before and she didn't know what he thought about it.
"sorry about... the seats" she mumbles, grimacing.
he raises his eyebrows, now seeing her embarrassment and he doesn't understand why. it was a little surprising but he felt so proud. he already wanted to make her do it all over again. "you f'real? don't even say sorry, ever again."
she's still not so sure, blushing even more as he wipes her cheeks from the smudged mascara and then runs his hand through her hair, trying to fix it a little bit. he smiles softly. "gonna clean this up later, don't you worry 'bout that, okay?"
chris then reaches into the center console for the tissues, grabbing them and spreading her legs with his hands. she watches him closely seeing how he starts just gently cleaning her up. this simple movement makes her feel the heat rising from her cheeks down to her neck, so she just covers her face with her hands shyly. not really being able to understand why is she so embarrassed this time, he grabs her wrists, forcing her hands to move away from her face.
"y'gotta be kiddin' me. don't hide from me, ma." chris mutters. "not when you made such pretty mess in my car."
with a quiet sigh, she lets him take her hands off of her face. she chews on her bottom lip nervously while he goes back to cleaning her up, touching her slightly as she was made from some kind of glass. it was even cute, how he just made sure she was fine. it's not their first rough sex, but this one was definitely more intense and for some reason felt so... different. she had this strange feeling in her chest, just seeing him focused on wiping her legs and how he didn't seem to care about his covered in her release seats. once he's done, he sits beside her, wrapping his hand around her shoulder and pulling her close. she doesn't like the silence, even if before it was never awkward, this one was bothering her as she couldn't stop feeling unfamiliar emotions.
"i ran out, by the way." she suddenly blurts out, making him laugh. there was no way in hell this girl was real.
"yeah? good to know. gonna give y'some more later."
"im paying this time."
"oh, you've paid enough already." she immediately looks up at him, smacking his shoulder and he chuckles in response, pretending to be in pain. "woaaahh, bein' a little brat again, hm?"
"that's not funny, im giving you money." her tone shows no objection, he smirks and nods, knowing he won't take anything from her anyway. they sit like that for a moment, before he speaks up, knowing he will get another hit after that.
"soooo... round two?"
"christopher, i swear to god."
_____________________________
a/n: oh my god this seems sooo long 😭 tell me what yall think, i feel like i kinda fucked up with the whole dealer vibe but lmk please! i honestly enjoyed writing that so who knows..
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo x fem reader#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo#smut#dealer chris
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Until I Found You
Summary: Living in a small town had it's pluses and minuses. But when an older man and his daughter move in, things start to change, perhaps for the better.
Word Count: 24.3k+
Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!teacher!reader
Notes: this is looong, and believe me, i was surprised when i realized that it ended up being 24,000 words.
this thing is a slow-burn, i was literally screaming at my screen saying 'just kiss already!' then realizing that, in fact, i'm the one who has to make them kiss or confess or do something.
reader has a last name, but other than that, she isn't described. this technically could be considered an AU of logan (2017) where logan survives, so this was written with old man logan in mind.
i would like to turn this into another oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests! (relating to this or anything else you want to see!)
warnings: none!
The small town you lived in meant a few things, everyone knew everyone, and everyone got in everyone’s business.
A few months ago, an older man and his young daughter moved into town. You weren’t sure exactly how old he was, of course you knew who he was, but even you had to admit, he was attractive. But that’s what everyone thought, you heard the mothers who would pick up their children from school, looking at Logan as he picked up Laura.
It was nice to see a man who picked up his kid, though you’ve never seen Laura’s mother, so perhaps that explains why.
Laura was a quiet and sweet girl, at least that’s what you thought. Apparently, she also had the spirit of a firecracker and got angry easily. And while she’s visited the principal’s office at least 9 times since she’s been here, you still can’t help but see her as a cute little girl who’s been through something traumatic, whatever it was.
You were standing outside with your class in the afternoon, waiting until all the students were picked up. Laura was in another teacher’s class at the end of the day, your coworker Emma Zhou. You and Emma stood next to each other, your classes mingling as they waited for their parents to pick them up.
Emma leaned close to you, “this is my favorite part of the day, you know.”
“Yeah, I think it’s everyone’s favorite part of the day. We get to go home after this.” You replied.
“It used to be that, but now…” Emma trailed off as you glanced over at her, “there aren’t a lot of people in this town who are good looking. But he’s a great new addition.”
You hummed noncommittally, so what if Logan was good-looking? It wasn't like you spent your time ogling him. He was just another parent in the sea of them, a bit rougher around the edges maybe, but nothing that special. Emma shot you a knowing look.
"Come on, you’ve seen him, right? That scruffy beard, those eyes," Emma said, nudging you with her elbow. "He’s like one of those rugged cowboys from the old Westerns."
"You sound like you're about to swoon," you teased, trying to keep the conversation light. You didn't want to admit you might have noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at Laura or the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.
"Well, can you blame me?" Emma shot back with a grin. "Small town like ours, and a guy like that shows up? It's bound to turn some heads."
You knew that much. All the women, even those who were married, always ogled him, but he either didn’t mind or didn’t care. His salt and pepper hair, the thick beard—he was practically a wet dream for women everywhere.
Emma nudged you again, eyes gleaming with mischief. "What, you’re not even the least bit curious about him?"
"I mean, sure, he's... attractive, but I'm not about to join the fan club," you said, shrugging it off, though you could feel heat creeping up your neck. You kept your focus on the kids in front of you, especially Laura, who sat quietly on the steps, doodling in her notebook like she always did while waiting for her dad.
Emma smirked, clearly not buying your indifference. "Yeah, right. I see the way you look over there sometimes."
You scoffed, shaking your head. "You're seeing things."
Just then, you noticed Logan’s truck pull into the school parking lot. He stepped out, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the crowd of parents. Laura immediately perked up, her quiet demeanor shifting just a little, and she started gathering her things without a word.
"Speak of the devil," Emma murmured, but you ignored her, watching as Logan approached, his usual scowl in place, though it softened when his eyes landed on his daughter.
He gave a brief nod in your direction as he came closer. "Afternoon."
"Hey," you replied, casually. You weren’t about to give Emma the satisfaction of seeing you flustered.
Laura stood up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she walked over to him. She paused in front of you, though, glancing up with those big, serious eyes of hers.
"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice quiet but steady with a hint of her accent.
You smiled. "See you tomorrow, Laura."
She gave a small nod before taking Logan’s hand. He didn’t say much else, just a simple ‘thanks’ before turning to leave with Laura in tow. You watched them walk away for a moment longer than necessary, noticing the slight limp in his step that he tried to hide.
"Y/N," Emma sing-songed, breaking you out of your thoughts. "Admit it, you’ve got a little thing for him, don't you?"
You rolled your eyes. "You really need a new hobby."
Emma laughed, but before she could press any further, her attention shifted to another parent picking up their kid, and you were grateful for the distraction. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder about Logan and Laura, what their story was. Everyone in town seemed to have their theories—some more ridiculous than others—but you’d always figured it wasn’t your place to pry.
As the crowd of students and parents thinned out, you found yourself thinking about Logan again. His gruff exterior didn’t bother you—it reminded you of those old Clint Eastwood characters, tough but with something vulnerable underneath. Maybe it was the way he looked at Laura, so protective but with a softness that made you wonder what kind of man he really was when he let his guard down.
Emma’s voice pulled you back to the present. "So, what’s your plan for the evening?"
You shrugged. "Probably just grading papers. Maybe catching up on some Netflix. You?"
"Trying to figure out how to run into Logan at the grocery store," she joked, though you wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t kidding.
You chuckled, shaking your head. "Good luck with that."
As you both said your goodbyes and headed to your cars, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time. He was already driving off, Laura in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window.
You let out a small sigh and got in your car, starting the engine. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but there was something there. Maybe Emma wasn’t entirely wrong.
Not that you’d ever admit that to her.
---
Much to your dismay, you had to go to the store once you were already clad in your loungewear. You wanted to make pasta, only to remember you forgot to get milk after work.
So now, here you were at the small local grocery store grabbing milk and a pint of ice cream for your troubles. The store was quiet at this hour, a few other people milling about but otherwise uneventful. You grabbed a basket and made a beeline for the dairy section, trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. Loungewear was great for a lazy evening at home, but not exactly your first choice for public appearances.
Once you made it to the frozen section, you looked at the pints of ice cream, specifically looking for one of your favorites, Ben and Jerry’s s’mores. “Fuck.” You muttered, seeing a pint of cookie dough in the spot of the s’mores.
You angrily grabbed the cookie dough ice cream to look behind it, only to find a chunky monkey pint. With a huff, you looked at the pint of ice cream, mentally cursing your luck. Just as you were about to put it back onto the shelf, a deep voice spoke from beside you.
"Didn't figure you for a chunky monkey type."
Startled, you looked up and found Logan standing there, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was holding a six-pack of beer and a carton of eggs in one hand, the other casually resting in the pocket of his jeans.
You blinked, thrown off by the sudden appearance. "What? Oh, no, I was just... I was looking for s'mores," you explained awkwardly, holding up the ice cream like it was evidence.
He nodded, his smirk deepening a little as he glanced at the shelves. "Guess they’re out, huh?"
"Yeah, my luck tonight," you muttered, a little embarrassed to be caught standing here obsessing over ice cream in your loungewear. Not exactly how you wanted to run into the guy you were definitely not crushing on. How could you? He was the Wolverine, around 200 years old, and looked to be the age of your father. Well, if your father was still alive. Or if you ever got to know him.
Logan glanced at the shelf again and shrugged. "S'mores is overrated anyway."
You quirked an eyebrow at him, momentarily forgetting your embarrassment. "Oh really? What’s your go-to then, Mr. Anti-S'mores?"
He smirked, that same low, gravelly voice coming through as he responded. "Not much of an ice cream guy, but if I had to choose… probably plain vanilla. Simple. Not too sweet."
You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you. "Of course you'd go for the most basic flavor."
His eyebrow twitched slightly at that, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes. "Sometimes simple’s the best option."
You rolled your eyes, grabbing a pint of vanilla. "Well, I guess I'll take your advice tonight, then. Not like I have much of a choice."
He gave you a brief nod, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there, but then Logan shifted slightly, his weight on one leg, clearly trying to mask the limp you'd noticed earlier. You weren’t sure if it was from the adamantium or something else, but it definitely wasn’t healing like it should. You found yourself biting your lip, wanting to ask but knowing better.
Instead, you went for something safer. "Laura’s doing well in class, by the way. She’s sharp. A little stubborn, but sharp."
He glanced down at you, a flicker of pride crossing his face. "Yeah, she’s a tough one." His expression softened as he added, "She doesn’t talk about it, but I know she likes you. Keeps her distance with most people."
Your heart fluttered a little at that. Laura was a bit of a mystery, rarely engaging much with the other teachers or students, so hearing that she’d let her guard down even a little with you meant more than you’d expected. "Well, she’s a good kid. I try not to push her too much."
Logan nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than you expected, like he was sizing you up in that quiet, brooding way of his. It made you feel both exposed and… oddly seen.
"Anyway," you said, breaking the silence, "I’ll let you get back to your shopping. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do than stand around talking about ice cream."
He gave a small grunt that might’ve been a laugh, but it was so subtle you couldn’t be sure. "Yeah. See you around, Ms. Aberra."
"Y/N," you corrected, feeling a little awkward. "You can just call me Y/N."
He hesitated for a split second before nodding. "Y/N, then."
You gave him a small smile, feeling a strange warmth at the way your name sounded in his deep voice. He gave a nod before turning to leave, but as he walked away, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at his retreating form. There was something about him—something rough, broken, but undeniably captivating.
---
The next morning, you pulled into the school parking lot, iced coffee in hand, still replaying your chance encounter with Logan at the grocery store. Why did it have to be the one night you went out in loungewear? If Emma ever found out, you'd never hear the end of it. You mentally braced yourself as you walked toward the building, determined to shake off any lingering thoughts about last night.
As you entered the teacher's lounge to drop off your things, Emma was already there, nursing her own cup of coffee. She spotted you immediately and raised an eyebrow.
"You look a little too chipper for a Wednesday," she teased.
You shrugged, trying to act casual. "Just happy to be halfway through the week."
"Uh-huh," she said, not quite convinced. "You didn't run into anyone interesting last night, did you?"
Your heart skipped a beat. How does she know?
"Like who?" you asked, trying to play dumb, but Emma's smirk told you she wasn't buying it.
"Oh, I don’t know... maybe a certain rugged cowboy-looking guy with a truck?" she said, her grin widening.
You groaned. "Seriously, do you have a sixth sense or something?"
"I knew it!" Emma practically squealed. "You did run into Logan, didn’t you? Come on, spill!"
You rolled your eyes and took a seat at the table. "It was nothing. We just ran into each other in the frozen section, talked for, like, two seconds. That’s it."
"Uh-huh, and?" Emma leaned forward, eager for details.
"And nothing. We talked about ice cream. He said s'mores was overrated."
Emma let out a dramatic gasp. "Overrated? Now, I know he's not perfect."
You chuckled despite yourself. "Yeah, well, that's the most thrilling part of my story, so feel free to be disappointed."
Emma shook her head, still grinning. "Oh, I'm not disappointed at all. This is just the beginning."
"There's nothing to begin, Emma," you said, exasperated. "He's just another parent."
"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that," she said with a wink before heading out to her classroom. You couldn't help but roll your eyes again as you followed her out into the hallway.
---
The morning passed uneventfully, but Laura had been quieter than usual in your class. Not that she was typically the most talkative kid, but today she seemed more distant, even from you. She’d finished her assignments early, as usual, but spent most of the class staring out the window instead of doodling in her notebook.
During lunch, you decided to check in with her. You found her sitting by herself outside, picking at the sandwich Logan had packed for her. You approached cautiously, not wanting to startle her.
"Hey, Laura," you greeted, taking a seat on the bench next to her. "Everything okay?"
She glanced at you, her expression as unreadable as always, before giving a slight shrug. "Yeah."
You studied her for a moment, noticing the way she kept her gaze low, avoiding eye contact more than usual. Something was definitely off. You knew better than to push too hard, but you also didn't want her to bottle everything up.
"Well, you know if you ever want to talk, I’m here," you said gently.
She gave another shrug, but this time, her eyes flickered up to meet yours briefly. "I know."
You nodded, letting the silence settle between you. Laura wasn’t one for big emotional outbursts—at least not around you—but you had a feeling she'd talk when she was ready.
"By the way," you said, changing the subject to lighten the mood, "your dad said he don’t like s'mores ice cream. Is that true, or is he just weird?"
Laura looked up at you, her lips twitching slightly like she was trying not to smile. "I like s'mores."
"Thought so," you replied with a smirk. "Well, I’m officially questioning all of your dad's taste now."
Laura didn’t laugh, but her expression softened a little, and she took another bite of her sandwich. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress. You let her finish eating in peace, feeling a little more at ease knowing that you’d at least gotten her to relax.
---
The afternoon flew by, and soon enough, the end-of-day pickup routine was in full swing. You and Emma stood outside again, watching the usual parade of parents and cars. Logan’s truck was easy to spot as it pulled up to the curb. You tried to act like you weren’t paying attention, but of course, Emma caught you glancing over.
"Still nothing, huh?" she teased under her breath.
"Shut up," you muttered, doing your best to seem disinterested.
Logan stepped out of the truck, his usual stoic expression in place as he made his way toward the school. Laura was already waiting, standing near the steps with her backpack slung over her shoulder. She saw him and walked over without hesitation, but before they left, she turned back to you.
"Bye, Ms. Aberra," she said, her voice a little softer than usual.
"See you tomorrow, Laura," you replied with a smile.
Logan gave you a nod as they walked past, and you couldn’t help but notice the slight limp in his step again. It was subtle, but there. Your curiosity piqued, but you pushed it down, reminding yourself it wasn’t your place to pry.
Emma, however, was still watching you closely. "You’re so not fooling anyone."
You shot her a look. "Seriously, get a hobby."
Emma just grinned, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Oh, this is my hobby, Y/N. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it."
As you both stood there, watching the last of the kids get picked up, you couldn’t help but glance over at Logan’s truck one more time as it drove away. Emma’s teasing was getting on your nerves, but there was a part of you that couldn’t completely dismiss what she was saying.
Maybe you were a little curious. Just a little. But you weren’t about to admit that to anyone—not even yourself.
---
Over the weekend you decided it was time to get an oil change. You weren’t going to go to ‘Mavin’s Oil Change’, not after that happened. Which is why for the past few years you’ve been doing it yourself.
It wasn’t difficult, and it was a lot cheaper, both wins in your book.
You walked around the hardware store, glancing at the shelves as you carried a new oil drain pan. You paused in front of the rows of motor oil, scanning the labels. Conventional had always worked fine for you, but maybe this time you'd splurge on the synthetic blend. It wasn't a huge decision, but it felt like a small act of treating yourself, in a way.
You were debating the pros and cons of the oil options when you heard the sound of someone walking up behind you.
"Didn’t peg you for the kind to do your own oil changes."
You turned your head and were met with Logan’s familiar gravelly voice. There he was again—of all places, he’d found you here in the auto section of the hardware store.
"Yeah, well, it's cheaper this way," you replied with a casual shrug, hoping to mask the slight surprise in your voice. You gestured to the oil in front of you. "What about you? Conventional or synthetic blend?"
Logan glanced at the shelf, then back at you. "Conventional. Gets the job done."
"Figures." You grinned a little, grabbing the conventional oil off the shelf. "Guess I’ll stick with what I know too, then."
He raised an eyebrow at you, but there was a hint of amusement behind his usual stoic demeanor. "Figured you’d be one to overthink it. Synthetic’s not all it’s cracked up to be."
You chuckled. "I’ll take your word for it, Mr. Oil Expert."
He grunted in response, grabbing something off the shelf for himself. For a moment, you both stood there, surrounded by tools and motor oil, neither of you saying much. It was kind of nice—quiet, comfortable in a way you wouldn’t have expected.
You shifted, holding the oil pan in your hands. "So, is Laura doing anything fun this weekend?"
Logan glanced at you, his face softening slightly at the mention of his daughter. "Not much. She likes to keep busy, but… this town ain’t exactly got a lot going on."
"True," you nodded, biting your lip as you tried to think of something. "She could come by and help me out with my garden, if she’s interested. I know she likes plants."
Logan looked at you, a little longer than usual, and you wondered if you’d crossed some kind of line offering something so personal. But then he nodded. "She’d probably like that."
"Cool," you said, feeling oddly relieved that you hadn’t messed up. "Let me know if she wants to. I could use an extra set of hands."
He gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on you again for a second before he turned his attention back to the shelf. There was that same weight to his gaze, like he was always sizing things up, figuring people out.
"You know," you said, breaking the silence, "I’m starting to think you’re stalking me. First the grocery store, now here. Should I be worried?"
Logan snorted, shaking his head. "Pretty sure it’s the other way around."
You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me? If anything, I’m just a simple schoolteacher who likes ice cream and doing her own oil changes. Hardly the stalking type."
"Sure," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly into what could almost be considered a smile.
You felt your own lips tugging into a grin, and for a moment, it felt easier. Logan wasn’t always the easiest person to talk to, but something about these small, random moments with him made you feel more at ease than you expected.
"Well, good luck with your oil change," he said, turning to head down another aisle. "Maybe see you around."
"Yeah, see you around," you replied, watching him walk away before you continued shopping, a strange warmth lingering in your chest.
As you walked toward the checkout, you couldn’t help but think back on how natural it felt, just talking to him. There wasn’t any awkwardness or forced conversation—just two people running into each other at the hardware store. Nothing to overthink. Except, maybe, the fact that you were starting to like these encounters more than you’d like to admit.
---
Logan blew out a breath of his cigar smoke. Laura said she didn’t like it when he smoked inside so he started doing it outside on the porch.
A small added bonus was seeing you, a few houses down, across the street, currently underneath your car getting the oil to drain.
The door opened and shut behind him as Laura stepped out, “ella te gusta,” she said softly.
He let out a huff, “kid, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, but I don’t know Spanish.”
Laura let out her own huff, sitting down next to Logan’s chair with her sketchbook, flipping it open. She didn’t say anything for a while, just started sketching in that intense, quiet way she had. Logan leaned back, puffing on his cigar, watching the smoke curl up into the air.
He caught himself glancing back across the street, where you were still working under your car. Laura's earlier comment lingered in his mind, even if he pretended not to know what it meant.
After a few minutes of silence, Laura looked up from her drawing. “You should go help her.”
Logan snorted, taking another puff of his cigar. “She’s fine. Knows what she’s doin’.”
Laura raised an eyebrow at him, her expression skeptical. “You’re always saying people shouldn’t be doin’ stuff like that alone. What if something happens?”
“Yeah, but she’s not helpless,” he grunted, though there was something in his tone that sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.
Laura shrugged and went back to her sketch. “Still think you should.”
Logan glanced at her, then back at you. You were sliding out from under the car, wiping your hands on your jeans, looking like you’d handled it just fine. He grunted again, though this time it was more to himself.
“What are you drawing?” he asked, trying to change the subject.
Laura held up her sketchbook, showing him a detailed drawing of a plant—a vine with thorns twisting around a branch. It reminded him of your garden, something about the way the plants seemed to grow wild but still had a certain beauty to them.
“That for Ms. Aberra?” Logan asked, the name slipping out before he could stop it. He tried to keep his tone casual, but Laura shot him a knowing look.
“Maybe.” She shrugged, but there was a smirk playing on her lips. “She likes plants. Thought she’d like this.”
Logan just nodded, staying quiet. He wasn’t about to get into a conversation with an eleven-year-old about why he’d noticed things about your garden or how you seemed to have a way with plants. That wasn’t his style.
“Why don’t you go show her?” Logan suggested, nodding toward you as you gathered up your tools.
Laura seemed to think about it for a second, then shook her head. “Maybe later. She’s busy.”
Logan raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t push it. He knew better than to try and make Laura do something if she wasn’t in the mood. The kid had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Though he supposes it was his fault.
A teenage girl who was walking a dog, a tan pit bull, stopped in front of your driveway, the dog happily wagging its tail as it patiently waited for you to say hello.
You were still wiping the oil off your hands when you noticed the pair. "Hey, there.” You smiled as you crouched down to greet Juno, who leaned eagerly into your hand, her tail wagging excitedly. "How are you, Juno?" you cooed, giving the pit bull a good scratch behind the ears.
The teenage girl holding the leash smiled politely. “She’s been dying to see you again,” she said, giving the leash a little slack so the dog could get closer.
"Well, I’m always happy to see her." You grinned as the dog nudged your leg, clearly wanting more attention. "Been a busy evening?”
The girl shrugged. “Yeah, but Juno here makes it better. You know how it is.”
You nodded. "Definitely. Plants are my version of Juno. Or baking, it’s hard to decide.”
The girl chuckled lightly before glancing at the car behind you. “Doing your own oil change?”
"Yep," you said, standing up and wiping your hands again on the rag. "Easier and cheaper than going to a shop."
She raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. I wouldn’t even know where to start."
“You’d be surprised how easy it is. YouTube tutorials, mostly,” you said, shrugging as you wiped your hands on the rag.
The girl smiled. "I might have to try that next time. If I don’t mess up my car in the process.”
You laughed. "That’s what the tutorials are for. But yeah, it’s not too bad. You’d get the hang of it."
As you chatted with the girl for a bit longer, Juno continued to happily soak up the attention. You scratched behind her ears one more time before standing up straight. “Well, good luck with the rest of your walk. Always nice seeing you two.”
“Same here,” the girl replied, tugging gently on Juno’s leash. “C’mon, girl. Let’s get home.”
You waved as they continued down the street, Juno looking back at you with her tail wagging. With a satisfied sigh, you turned back to finish cleaning up, putting away the oil pan and bottles of motor oil.
Across the street, Logan puffed his cigar, watching as you gathered your tools and wiped your hands one more time. Laura had gone back to her sketching, though every now and then she’d glance up at him with that same look.
“She’s done now,” Laura said after a moment, still sketching.
“I can see that,” Logan grumbled, tapping ash off the end of his cigar.
“Still think you should go help,” she added, not even bothering to look up this time.
Logan huffed, staring at you as you double-checked your work and began packing up. He didn’t need to help—you were obviously handling everything just fine. But still, there was something about the way you worked so methodically, so determined. You’d done it all yourself, like you didn’t need anyone’s help. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling, though, that maybe he wanted to offer it anyway.
“Kid, you sure know how to push buttons,” he muttered under his breath.
Laura just smirked, flipping another page in her sketchbook.
Logan grumbled to himself for a moment longer before standing up from his chair, tapping out the last of his cigar in the ashtray. “Stay here.”
He walked across the street toward your driveway, hands in his jacket pockets, his eyes set on you as you knelt by the toolbox, sorting through the remaining tools.
“You done already?” he called out, making his presence known.
You glanced up, not expecting to see him again so soon. “Yeah, just finished up,” you replied, standing up and wiping your hands on the rag again. “What about you? Something break down?”
“Nah, just figured I’d see if you needed any help,” he said, his tone casual, though you could tell it wasn’t exactly his style to offer assistance without a reason.
You raised an eyebrow, smiling a little. “You offering to help after the job’s already done?”
"Guess I am," Logan replied with a hint of a smirk, his eyes not quite meeting yours.
You couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, it's the thought that counts, I suppose. Next time, I’ll be sure to save the hardest part for you."
"Yeah, you do that," he said, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. He shifted his weight slightly, glancing over at the now-finished oil change. "You do this kind of thing often? Or just the oil changes?"
"Mostly just the oil changes," you admitted, as you leaned in closer like you were telling a secret. “I went on a few dates with Mavin’s son the first few months I was here and didn’t go over well. Now he overcharges me.” You held up your hands, “but if it’s something complicated, I promise I drive 30 minutes to the city to get it checked out.”
Logan's eyes flickered with interest, the corners of his mouth twitching into something resembling a smile. "That right? Well, can't say I'm surprised. Mavin's a bit of a jerk."
You chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yeah, he wasn't thrilled about me ghosting his son, that's for sure. But hey, I learned how to change my own oil, so I guess something good came out of it."
Logan grunted in agreement, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't say much after that, his eyes lingering on you as if he were trying to piece together something that didn't quite fit. You had a feeling he wasn't used to people like you—people who seemed to find their way into his life, one way or another.
"Well," you said, breaking the silence, "thanks for the offer, even if the job’s already done." You smiled, a little uncertain about what to do next. "Guess I'll see you around."
He nodded, but didn't make a move to leave. "Laura likes you, you know."
That caught you off guard. "Oh," you replied, a bit flustered. "Well, I like her too. She's a good kid. Smart, but... you already know that."
"Yeah," Logan muttered, his voice softer than usual. "She doesn’t open up to many people. But you... you’re different."
You weren't sure how to respond to that, so you just nodded, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through your chest. "I’m glad she feels comfortable around me. She’s been through a lot."
Logan's eyes darkened slightly, a shadow passing over his features. "More than most," he agreed, his voice rough with something that sounded a lot like guilt.
You wanted to reach out, to say something that might make him feel better, but words failed you. So instead, you just stood there, the silence stretching between you, not awkward but charged with something unspoken.
"Anyway," Logan said, clearing his throat as if to shake off the heavy moment. "If you ever need help with the car, you know where to find me. Or Laura."
You smiled, feeling that warmth again. "I’ll keep that in mind. And if you two ever need help with, I don’t know, math homework or... anything else, you know where to find me."
He nodded, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Noted."
You watched as he turned to leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment. As he walked back toward his house, you couldn't help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something more than just friendly encounters at the store.
---
During lunch, you sat in your classroom, enjoying 30 minutes of peace and quiet before the kids came back into the room. The soft hum of the heater filled the space, making the room feel warmer than usual as you flipped through the stack of quizzes you needed to grade. The formulas and diagrams were a blur as your mind drifted back to the weekend, specifically to Logan.
The way he’d offered to help with your oil change, the quiet moments that had followed—it was so unlike him. Or maybe, you realized, you just didn’t know him well enough yet. Either way, something about it had left you feeling... something.
A soft knock on the doorframe pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up to see Emma standing in the doorway, that cheeky grin on her face.
“So,” she started, stepping inside your classroom. “I hear you’re making friends with a certain someone across the street.”
You rolled your eyes, setting down the quiz you’d been half-grading. “I’m not ‘making friends.’ We just happen to run into each other.”
Emma raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Mhm. Sure. Totally normal for him to come help with your oil change, right?”
"My God, how do you know?" you asked, eyes widening in disbelief as you sat back in your chair.
Emma smirked, leaning against the doorway like she had all the time in the world. "Small town. You know how people talk." She paused, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Besides, you’re not exactly subtle. Logan? The gruff guy across the street? It’s hard to miss that you two have been... running into each other more than usual."
You sighed, rubbing your temple. "It’s not like that. He just offered to help with my car, and Laura—"
Emma’s grin widened. "Ah, Laura. That’s the key, isn’t it? I’ve seen how she looks at you. That kid doesn’t warm up to just anyone. She’s a little... prickly, but with you? She’s different."
"She’s a good kid," you said, trying to deflect. "She’s been through a lot, you know? I just think she needs someone to talk to. Someone who’s not... intimidating."
"Sure, sure," Emma teased, walking further into the room and sitting on the edge of one of the desks. "But you can’t tell me there isn’t something more going on between you and Logan. I mean, come on. He doesn’t exactly strike me as the ‘friendly neighbor’ type. More like ‘leave me alone or I’ll stab you with my claws’ type."
You chuckled despite yourself. "Okay, yeah, he’s not exactly Mr. Rogers. But it’s not like we’re... you know, it’s just—"
"Flirting?" Emma offered with a raised eyebrow.
"Friendly," you corrected quickly, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. "It’s just friendly. He’s Laura’s dad, and we’ve talked a few times, but that’s it."
Emma gave you a knowing look. "Uh-huh. Sure. And I’m the Queen of England."
You groaned, pushing your quizzes aside. "Why are you so obsessed with this?"
"Because," Emma said with a shrug, "it’s about time you had a little fun in this town. You spend all your time either at school or working on that garden of yours. You deserve to have a life outside of grading papers and pulling weeds."
"I have a life," you protested.
Emma raised an eyebrow. "Really? And when was the last time you went on a date?"
You opened your mouth to reply, but quickly closed it, realizing you didn’t have a good answer. "Okay, fine," you admitted, "it’s been a while. But that doesn’t mean—"
"Exactly my point," Emma interrupted, flashing a triumphant grin. "Look, I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. But Logan? He’s clearly interested. And I think you are too."
"Okay… even if I was interested, I’m pretty sure a guy like that doesn’t have dating or relationships on his mind. Especially with someone like me." You leaned back in your chair, feeling a mix of frustration and doubt.
Emma gave you a skeptical look, shaking her head. "Someone like you? Come on, Y/N. Don’t sell yourself short. You’re smart, funny, and clearly, Logan thinks you’re worth his time. He’s not just helping anyone with an oil change, believe me."
You sighed, crossing your arms. "It’s not that simple. You know what he’s been through. And Laura... she’s been through so much already. I’m not about to mess with their lives."
Emma smirked, tapping her fingers on the desk. "Mess with their lives? Or make their lives better? Laura clearly likes you, Y/N. She’s practically glued to your side when you’re around. And Logan? He’s different with you. I see it."
You frowned, picking up a pen and twirling it between your fingers. "Laura’s nice to me, yeah. But that doesn’t mean anything. She’s indifferent to most of the other teachers, and she barely talks in class. I don’t even know if she likes me, or if it’s just... I don’t know."
"She doesn’t warm up to just anyone," Emma pointed out. "You’re different. She looks at you like she trusts you, and Logan trusts you too, whether he shows it or not. That’s not something that happens often with them. They’re... well, guarded, for obvious reasons."
You were quiet for a moment, thinking about Laura. It was true—she was quiet, distant with others, but with you? There was something different. She’d even started staying after class sometimes, just sitting there while you graded papers or prepped for the next lesson. And Logan? He was always nearby, watching, but never intruding.
Still, the idea of anything happening between you and Logan felt... complicated. "Even if he did trust me, it’s not like he’s the type to be thinking about relationships. The man’s got enough on his plate. And me? I’ve got work, and... I’m not exactly relationship material."
Emma laughed, shaking her head. "Please, Y/N. If anyone deserves a chance at something real, it’s you. You’ve spent so long taking care of everyone else—your students, your job. Maybe it’s time to let someone take care of you for a change."
You looked at her, skeptical. "You think Logan is the type to 'take care of' someone?"
She smirked. "He already is. He’s just doing it in his own way. And trust me, the way he looks at you? There’s more there than you realize. You just have to stop overthinking it."
Before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Emma stood up, giving you one last knowing smile before heading for the door. "Just think about it, Y/N. Sometimes, the best things happen when you least expect them."
You watched her go, your mind still swirling with doubt and a tiny sliver of hope. Could there really be something more between you and Logan? Or was it just your imagination?
As your students started filing back into the room, you pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the rest of the day. But even as you taught your lessons and graded papers, Logan lingered in the back of your mind.
---
Later that evening, you found yourself in the garden, pulling weeds and trying to clear your head. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over the small town. You liked this time of day—the quiet, the calm.
Just as you were settling into the rhythm of pulling weeds, you heard footsteps behind you. Turning around, you saw Logan standing there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his expression as unreadable as ever.
"Need any help?" he asked, his gruff voice breaking the silence.
You blinked, caught off guard. "Uh, with the garden? I’m just pulling weeds."
He shrugged, stepping closer. "Doesn’t hurt to have an extra set of hands."
You smiled, feeling a bit awkward but oddly touched by the offer. "Sure, if you’re up for it."
Logan crouched down next to you, pulling at the weeds without saying much. The two of you worked in silence for a few minutes, the only sound being the rustling of plants and the distant hum of traffic.
Eventually, you spoke up, trying to break the tension. "So... Laura’s been doing well in class. She’s quiet, but I think she’s starting to come out of her shell a bit."
Logan glanced at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Yeah? That’s good to hear. She doesn’t talk much at home either."
"She’s a smart kid," you added, pulling another weed. "But I think... she could use someone to talk to. Someone she feels safe with."
Logan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "She’s been through a lot. Trust doesn’t come easy for her."
You hesitated, then asked, "What about you? Do you feel safe here?"
He looked at you, his expression softening just a little. "Safer than I’ve felt in a long time."
That simple admission hit you harder than you expected. Logan, this gruff, guarded man, was letting his walls down, even just a little. It made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
"That’s good," you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. "I’m glad."
For a moment, neither of you said anything. The quiet between you felt heavy but not uncomfortable. Logan’s presence was grounding, solid in a way that made you feel... safe too.
Finally, he broke the silence. "I appreciate what you’ve done for Laura. She doesn’t trust many people, but with you... it’s different."
You shrugged, trying to downplay it. "I’m just doing my job. She’s a good kid, like I said."
Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "It’s more than that. She trusts you. And... so do I."
Your breath caught in your throat at his words. There was something unspoken in the air between you, something neither of you was ready to address. But it was there, simmering just below the surface.
"Logan, I—"
Before you could finish, he stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. "Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it."
You stood up too, feeling the weight of what was left unsaid hanging in the air. "Thanks for the help."
He gave a brief nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he turned to leave. "Anytime."
As you watched him walk away, your heart was pounding in your chest. There was no denying it now—there was something between you and Logan. Something real. And it scared you just as much as it excited you.
---
Parent-teacher conferences always stressed you out. Gathering all your students’ information, organizing it all, it was hectic and unreasonable. You couldn’t understand why an email didn’t suffice.
Possibly the worst thing about it is the fact it took place in the school gym, which had no AC. The heat was almost unbearable, making your clothes stick to your skin as you shuffled through your notes, waiting for the next parent to arrive to your table.
The gym was packed, parents and their kids moving between tables as they talked to teachers, making the already stifling room feel even hotter. You fanned yourself with the stack of notes you’d organized earlier, feeling sweat prickle at your back.
You glanced at your list of appointments, sighing when you saw who was next: Logan. You hadn't expected him to come. Laura was doing well enough in your class, but she wasn’t exactly the type to care about grades. You figured Logan would be the same—practical, but not overly concerned about school meetings.
You straightened up, glancing around to see him approaching with Laura by his side. She looked slightly uncomfortable, her arms crossed and her gaze focused anywhere but the gym, while Logan was, well... Logan. His expression was gruff, unreadable as usual, but there was something in his eyes that softened when he saw you.
“Ms. Aberra,” Logan greeted as he reached your table, giving you a nod.
“Logan,” you said, smiling at Laura. “And Laura. How are you two doing?”
Laura shrugged, barely meeting your gaze. Logan pulled out the chair for her, and she reluctantly sat down, still quiet. He stayed standing, leaning on the back of the chair, watching you with that familiar intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Laura’s doing fine in class. Really, there’s not much to talk about.”
Logan glanced at Laura, then back at you. “Figured I’d come by anyway. See how things are goin’.”
You nodded, pulling up Laura’s grades on your tablet. “Well, like I said, she’s doing great. She’s one of the best in the class, actually. Quiet, but I can tell she’s always thinking.”
Laura’s face remained impassive, but there was the slightest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.
“She’s got potential,” you continued, looking at Logan. “Especially in science. I think she’d be great at anything she wanted to do, honestly.”
Logan grunted in response, but there was a proud glint in his eye. “That’s good to hear.”
Laura finally spoke up, her voice quiet but clear. “I like science. And math.”
You smiled, surprised by her willingness to engage. “Well, you’re really good at it. I was thinking, if you ever wanted, there are some extracurriculars coming up. Science club, math competitions—stuff like that. It might be fun.”
Laura glanced at Logan, who simply shrugged. “Up to you, kid.”
She seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded slightly. “Maybe.”
“Well, no pressure,” you said, trying to keep it casual. “You can always decide later.”
There was an awkward pause as you flipped through the rest of Laura’s grades, though there wasn’t much else to say. She was excelling, especially considering her background. You couldn’t help but feel a little protective over her, knowing what she’d been through.
“So, uh, anything else you need to know?” you asked, looking back up at Logan.
He shook his head. “Just wanted to check in, make sure she’s on track.”
You smiled, feeling the warmth in his words even if he didn’t show it. “She’s doing great. Really.”
Logan gave you a brief nod, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than necessary before he straightened up. “Thanks.”
You watched as he turned to Laura, ready to leave, but she didn’t stand just yet. Instead, she glanced between the two of you, her brow furrowed slightly like she was piecing something together.
“Are you... friends?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the noise of the gym.
You blinked, taken aback by the question. Logan seemed just as surprised, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly recovered.
“Well,” you said slowly, glancing at Logan for a cue. “I guess you could say that.”
Logan cleared his throat, crossing his arms. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.”
Laura’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if she didn’t quite believe it but wasn’t going to argue. “Okay.”
She stood up, her chair scraping against the floor as she started toward the exit. Logan hesitated for a moment, giving you one last look before following her. “See you around,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.
You watched them go, feeling that strange mix of emotions again—the warmth, the uncertainty, the possibility of something more. As the door closed behind them, you realized that, for once, you didn’t mind the heat. It was a small town, and people noticed everything. But you were starting to wonder if maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Laura grabbed his hand as they exited the gym, having already seen her other teachers. She looked up at Logan, as he stared straight ahead at the truck in the parking lot. “Creo que ella te gusta.”
He let out a huff, “kid, don’t know how many times I gotta say it, but I don’t know Spanish.”
Laura gave him a sidelong glance, clearly unimpressed by his response. "You should learn," she muttered under her breath, squeezing his hand as they reached the truck.
Logan grunted as he fumbled for the keys, a slight wince crossing his features as he slid into the driver’s seat. He glanced at Laura, who was already buckling herself in without a word. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t quite easy either.
He turned the key in the ignition, the truck sputtering to life as he pulled out of the parking lot. His mind wandered back to the parent-teacher conference, and specifically to Y/N. She’d always been good with Laura, he could see that. But lately, something about her seemed to calm him too—a feeling he wasn’t used to and didn’t quite know how to handle.
“You like her,” Laura said, breaking the silence with her blunt observation. It wasn’t a question.
Logan’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “She’s a good teacher. You like her, too.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Laura said, crossing her arms. “You act different when she’s around. You don’t growl as much.”
Logan let out a low chuckle, though it lacked any real humor. “I don’t growl.”
“Yes, you do,” Laura said, looking out the window. “But not at her.”
He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. Instead, he focused on the road, trying to push away the thoughts circling in his mind. He wasn’t a man used to... feelings, especially not ones that left him unsure. But Y/N had a way of sneaking under his defenses, and that scared him more than he’d like to admit.
“I like her,” Laura said quietly after a long stretch of silence.
Logan glanced at her, surprised by the soft admission. Laura didn’t trust people easily, and she certainly didn’t like many. But her words carried weight, especially to him.
“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.
Laura nodded, still looking out the window. “She’s not like the others. She doesn’t treat me like I’m different.”
Logan felt a knot in his chest loosen, though he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the relief of knowing Laura had found someone she trusted, or maybe it was the way Y/N had already become a part of their lives, without him even realizing it. Either way, he didn’t say anything more, just drove the rest of the way home in silence, lost in his own thoughts.
---
The next morning, you thanked the stars that it was Saturday. You were exhausted from the large amount of human interaction last night and decided to sleep in a bit before tending to the garden.
After that, and taking a shower, you slipped into comfortable clothes, some small shorts and a large t-shirt that covered the shorts, since it only getting warmer outside.
Even with that said, you couldn’t help but crave chocolate chip cookies, thanking the stars once again that you had all the ingredients.
You turned on the oven, allowing it to pre-heat, as you grabbed a mixing bowl and walked around your small kitchen looking for the ingredients listed on your worn-out piece of paper. You still hadn’t memorized the recipe after making it for years.
The doorbell ringed as you poked your head out the side of your kitchen. When you answered it, you were pleasantly surprised to find Laura outside, wearing what you could only describe as a cute grey shirt with a colorful bear on it. You’d never say it to her, she’d probably leave if you said she looked cute.
“Hey, Laura. D’you need anything?”
“Daddy said I could help with the garden.” She spoke softly.
“Oof, sorry kiddo. Already did it this morning.” You looked back inside your house before turning back to Laura, “though, I could use some help making cookies.”
Laura hesitated for a second, her dark eyes studying you as if trying to decide whether this was worth her time. You were still getting used to her quiet, guarded nature, but you’d learned quickly that she was different around you compared to other people. It was like you had some sort of unspoken understanding, even if you didn’t fully get why.
“Okay,” she finally said, stepping past you into the house.
You closed the door behind her, walking back into the kitchen and grabbing a second mixing bowl. “You ever make cookies before?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder at her.
Laura shook her head, standing by the counter as she watched you.
“Well, today’s your lucky day. I’m about to show you the magic of sugar, butter, and chocolate chips.” You grinned as you started measuring out the ingredients. “Can you hand me the brown sugar?”
She scanned the countertop before reaching for the brown sugar, silently passing it to you. You got the feeling she wasn’t used to this kind of thing—normal, mundane stuff like baking cookies on a lazy Saturday. Not that you knew her whole story or anything, but you’d heard enough about Logan and his complicated life to guess Laura hadn’t had a typical upbringing.
As you started mixing the butter and sugar together, you tried to think of something to say. Conversations with Laura could be tricky; she wasn’t the chatty type, and you didn’t want to push her too much.
“So,” you started, keeping your tone casual, “what’s Logan up to today?”
She shrugged. “Resting.”
You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. Logan resting was a good thing. You knew he’d been having a rough time lately with his health, even though he wasn’t the type to admit it. You figured he was just being stubborn, refusing to slow down even though it was clear his healing wasn’t what it used to be.
Laura remained silent, watching as you added the flour to the mix.
“You wanna stir?” you asked, offering her the spatula.
She looked at it for a moment before stepping closer and taking it from you. Her movements were careful, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but smile as she focused on the task.
“Nice job,” you said, giving her a thumbs-up. “You’ve got a future in cookie-making, I can tell.”
Laura didn’t react much, but you swore you saw the tiniest flicker of amusement in her eyes.
As she stirred, you reached for the chocolate chips. “Best part of making cookies—sneaking a few of these before they go in the dough.” You tossed a couple into your mouth, then held the bag out to her.
She paused, looking at the chocolate chips like she wasn’t sure what to do. After a second, she picked one up and ate it, chewing thoughtfully.
You chuckled. “See? Told you it’s the best part.”
Laura kept stirring the dough while you got the baking sheets ready. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just… quiet. You didn’t mind it, though. Laura wasn’t the type of kid who needed constant conversation, and you appreciated that about her.
As she worked, you glanced at her again, feeling a strange sense of protectiveness. You didn’t know what exactly she’d been through, but whatever it was, you could tell it had shaped her into someone far older than her years.
When the dough was ready, you started scooping it onto the trays. “Almost done,” you said. “Then it’s just a waiting game while they bake.”
Laura nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she watched you.
You slid the trays into the oven and set the timer before turning back to her. “You want some water or anything while we wait?”
She shook her head, her eyes still on the oven like she was trying to figure out why people made such a big deal out of cookies.
“Well, I’m grabbing a drink.” You poured yourself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as you sipped. “It’ll take around 12 minutes for them to finish. Then we put in another batch, and another until the dough has all been used.”
Laura gave a small nod, her eyes still focused on the oven. It was like she was trying to figure out if all this waiting was actually worth it.
You studied her for a moment, wondering what was going on in that head of hers. She never really said much, but it was clear there was a lot happening behind those dark, watchful eyes. You weren’t exactly sure why she’d taken to you, but you were grateful for it. Laura didn’t let many people in, that much was obvious.
“I can show you a movie. Or maybe some music? I usually play somethin’ while I wait.”
Laura glanced up at you, her brow furrowing slightly. “Music,” she said quietly.
You smiled, glad she was at least open to that. “Cool. Let’s see what we got.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your playlist, landing on something mellow, nothing too upbeat or distracting. You hit play, letting the soft sounds of a guitar fill the room.
Laura leaned against the counter, listening, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t fidgety or impatient, just quiet, like she was absorbing everything around her.
You took another sip of water, watching her from the corner of your eye. “You ever help Logan with stuff like this? Like cooking?”
She shook her head. “No.”
You figured as much. “Well, if he ever asks, you’ll be a pro now.” You winked at her, earning the tiniest of shrugs in return.
You both stood there in a comfortable silence, letting the music play. It wasn’t awkward, just… peaceful. The smell of the cookies starting to bake filled the kitchen, and for a moment, it was easy to forget all the heavy stuff hanging in the air—Logan’s health, Laura’s past, whatever weight she carried that you didn’t fully understand yet.
After a few minutes, Laura spoke up. “I talked to Logan about you… last night.”
You paused, surprised she’d bring it up. “Oh yeah? What’d he say?”
She didn’t answer right away, her gaze fixed on the oven. “He said you’re... different from other people. In a good way.”
A warmth crept into your chest at that. “Well, that’s nice of him to say. I think he’s pretty different too, you know. In a good way.”
Laura looked at you, her expression unreadable. “He likes you,” she said, her tone flat, but there was something in the way she said it, like it was a fact she was still processing.
You felt your cheeks heat up a little. “Yeah? Well… I like him too.”
She stared at you for a moment longer before nodding slowly, like she was piecing something together in her head. “He doesn’t trust people. But he trusts you.”
You swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to that. “I’m glad he does. I mean… I care about him, Laura. And you too.”
Laura’s eyes flickered with something—maybe understanding, maybe something else you couldn’t quite name. She didn’t say anything for a while, just looked down at the floor.
Before the silence could stretch too long, the oven timer beeped, cutting through the moment.
“Cookies are done,” you said, turning to grab the oven mitts. You pulled the trays out, setting them on the counter to cool. The smell was even stronger now, warm and sweet, filling the entire kitchen. “Wanna taste test one?”
Laura hesitated for a second before nodding.
You carefully lifted a cookie from the tray, holding it out to her. “Careful, it’s hot.”
She took it, blowing on it before taking a small bite. You watched as she chewed, her face still neutral, but you could tell she liked it.
“Good, right?” you asked, biting into one yourself.
Laura nodded again, chewing slowly. For a split second, you thought you saw a hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.
As you both stood there, munching on cookies, the air felt lighter, like some kind of invisible barrier between you had shifted just a little. You didn’t know all of Laura’s story, but you didn’t need to. What mattered was that she was here, sharing this small moment with you, and that was enough.
“So,” you said after a few minutes, breaking the silence. “What should we do next? More cookies? Or maybe try out that movie?”
Laura looked at the remaining dough, then back at you. “More cookies.”
You grinned. “Good choice. Let’s make this batch even better.”
---
After all the cookies came out of the oven, you sent Laura home with a container of some of the batch. You could never eat them all on your own, and you ended up giving some away anyways, so why not give some to Laura?
You walked Laura to your front door and watched as she crossed the street, her figure disappearing behind the door three houses down. There was always something surreal about the way she moved—so quiet, so controlled, like she had learned to blend into the background. It made you wonder what her life had been like before coming here.
When Laura walked in, the container held tightly to her chest, Logan sat on the couch, the soft murmur of the TV barely audible as he sipped from a whiskey bottle. His eyes flicked over to her as the door clicked shut behind her.
“You were gone a while,” he muttered, his voice rough but not harsh.
Laura shrugged, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Made cookies.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, watching her disappear from view. The faint clinking of a container hitting the counter reached his ears. He knew she didn’t do stuff like this unless someone dragged her into it. “With Y/N?” he asked, taking another sip.
Laura reappeared, nodding as she plopped down beside him on the couch, the container of cookies now on the coffee table.
Logan stared at it for a moment, then gave a small grunt of approval. He reached over and grabbed a cookie from the container, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness that felt out of place in his usual world of bitterness and whiskey.
“Not bad,” he muttered, glancing at Laura. “You help with these?”
She shrugged again, still watching the TV, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her expression that didn’t go unnoticed by Logan.
“Hmm,” he grunted, leaning back. “Maybe next time, you can bring some whiskey to wash ‘em down.”
Laura didn’t smile, but her lips twitched slightly as if she was trying not to.
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, the low hum of the TV filling the room. Logan’s thoughts drifted back to Y/N. He didn’t trust people easily—never had, and probably never would. But Y/N was different. He’d seen how she handled Laura, how she didn’t push too hard or ask too many questions. And she was patient, something Logan knew he didn’t have much of.
“Y/N’s a good one,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
Laura didn’t say anything, but she shifted slightly, leaning her head against the arm of the couch.
Logan watched her for a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. He knew settling down wasn’t really in his nature, but for Laura’s sake—and maybe a bit for his own—he was trying. And Y/N? She made that easier, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
“She ask about me?” Logan asked, more curious than he wanted to let on.
Laura nodded, her eyes still on the screen. “Yeah. I told her you were resting.”
Logan snorted. “Resting. That’s a nice way of putting it.”
Laura didn’t respond, and Logan didn’t push further. He knew what Y/N probably thought—that he was just some grumpy guy with a limp, maybe a few too many scars for comfort. She didn’t know the half of it. But she didn’t pry either, and for that, he was grateful.
“Guess I’ll have to thank her for the cookies,” Logan said after a while, taking another sip from the bottle. His mind wandered to the thought of Y/N—the way she smiled when she was around Laura, how she always seemed to have the right balance of patience and understanding. It wasn’t just anyone who could handle a kid like Laura, let alone make her feel comfortable enough to bake cookies on a Saturday.
“She likes you too, you know,” Laura said suddenly, her voice cutting through the quiet.
Logan’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Y/N,” Laura clarified, her tone as flat as ever. “She likes you.”
Logan chuckled, though there was a bit of discomfort behind it. “You don’t know that, kid.”
Laura looked at him, her gaze piercing and a little too wise for someone her age. “She does. I can tell.”
Logan stared back at her, caught off guard by how matter-of-fact she sounded. It was hard to argue with Laura when she had that look on her face, the same look that said she saw through everything and didn’t waste time with pleasantries.
He cleared his throat, trying to brush it off. “Yeah, well… that’s her problem, not mine.”
Laura didn’t react, just turned back to the TV. But Logan could feel her eyes on him for a few seconds longer before she settled back into the cushions.
Logan shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of Laura’s words hanging in the air. He wasn’t used to people ‘liking’ him in the way Laura seemed to imply. People tolerated him, sure, maybe even respected him, but liking him? That was new territory.
He let out a sigh and reached for another cookie. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Not right now.
But even as he chewed in silence, he couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N—and what it might mean if Laura was right.
---
A few days later, you found yourself at Logan’s house helping Laura with some of her English homework. You usually don’t make ‘house calls’ to help students, but you couldn’t deny Laura.
Logan stayed seated in the living room, drinking a beer and watching the TV. But really, he was pretending not to listen to their conversation in the kitchen.
“You’re doing good, Laura.” You said.
Laura shrugged, her eyes flicking over to Logan in the living room. “Can you stay for dinner?” She asked you.
Logan’s head snapped up at that. He hadn’t expected Laura to ask, but there was no denying that the kid had gotten attached to you. Before you could answer, Laura added, “I made something. With Logan.”
That was a lie, of course. Laura had barely touched the stove since the cookies, but she gave Logan a look that told him to back her up.
Y/N smiled softly. “I wouldn’t say no to dinner.” She glanced at Logan. “If that’s okay?”
Logan grunted, shifting his weight. “Yeah. ‘Course.”
Laura gave a small nod, clearly satisfied with the answer. You smiled, pushing the papers aside. “Guess I’m staying for dinner, then.”
Logan shot Laura a look, one that said what exactly are we eating? but she ignored him, turning her attention back to you. “It’s nothing fancy,” she said, which wasn’t reassuring.
“Well, I’m excited. Food always tastes better when someone else cooks it,” you joked, standing up to stretch your arms.
Logan watched you from the corner of his eye as he sat back down on the couch, pretending to be more interested in the muted TV than he actually was. You couldn’t help but notice the way he seemed a little tenser whenever you were around, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He was trying to stay low-key, but you could tell he was keeping tabs on every move you made, every word you said.
“So, what’s on the menu?” you asked, trying to ease the quiet that had settled over the room.
Laura, sitting across from you, didn’t answer right away, like she was carefully considering her next move. Logan’s eyes flicked over to her, waiting for her response.
“Spaghetti,” she finally said, her voice as flat as ever.
You raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Oh yeah? Sounds good.”
Logan gave a low grunt from the couch, and you could tell by his expression that he was trying to figure out when they’d supposedly made spaghetti. But he didn’t contradict Laura, just took another swig from his beer.
“Well, I’m looking forward to it,” you said, standing up from the kitchen table. “Let me know if you need any help.”
Laura didn’t say anything, just headed to the stove where a pot of water was already simmering. You followed her, glancing at the nearly-empty box of spaghetti on the counter. It was clear she hadn’t done this a lot, but the effort was what mattered. And if it meant spending more time with her—and Logan—you weren’t about to complain.
“I’ll get the sauce going,” you offered, stepping beside her. Laura gave you a slight nod, sliding over to make room.
Logan watched from the couch, his eyes narrowing as if he was weighing the situation. He hadn’t expected you to just roll with it, but then again, you always had a way of adapting.
“So, how’s school?” you asked Laura, trying to keep the conversation light while you opened the jar of sauce.
“It’s fine,” she said, her tone noncommittal.
You stirred the sauce, giving a little shrug. “Well, if you ever need help with any other type of homework, you know where to find me.”
She glanced up at you, her expression unreadable, but something in her eyes softened for a second. “I know.”
The two of you worked in quiet sync, with Laura focusing on the pasta and you keeping an eye on the sauce. It wasn’t long before the kitchen started to smell of tomatoes and garlic, the scent filling the air and making the small space feel cozy. For a while, the only sounds were the bubbling pot and the clinking of utensils.
Logan shifted on the couch, clearing his throat. “Need me to do anything?”
You glanced back at him with a smile. “Just sit there and look pretty, Logan. We’ve got this.”
A low chuckle escaped him, though his face didn’t change much. “That so?”
Laura glanced at Logan, her expression unreadable, but you caught the briefest hint of approval in her eyes before she turned back to stirring the pasta.
Once everything was ready, you and Laura brought the food to the small dining table. You plated up the spaghetti, topping it with sauce and a sprinkle of Parmesan. Logan joined you both, moving slower than he probably realized, and sat down with a grunt.
As you all ate, the room stayed comfortably quiet. It wasn’t one of those forced silences that felt awkward—it was more like everyone was just settling into the moment. Laura was still guarded, but you could tell she was starting to relax, even if it was just a little.
“You did good, Laura,” you said, twirling some spaghetti on your fork. “This tastes great.”
She didn’t say anything, just kept eating, but you saw her shoulders ease up ever so slightly.
Logan, on the other hand, glanced between the two of you, chewing slowly. He hadn’t been big on cooking or anything domestic like this, but he could tell Laura had put in effort. He took another bite, grunting his approval. “Not bad,” he said quietly.
You smiled to yourself. This whole thing wasn’t exactly what you’d planned for the evening, but it was nice in its own way—just simple, like normal people having dinner together.
As you were finishing up, Logan pushed his chair back, grabbing his beer bottle from the table. “I’ll handle the cleanup,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.
You raised an eyebrow, standing to gather a few plates. “You sure?”
Logan waved you off. “Yeah. Laura and I got it.”
You nodded, stepping back. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”
Laura watched you quietly, her dark eyes flicking between you and Logan. You could tell she wasn’t used to this kind of thing, the casual ease of sharing a meal and cleaning up afterward. But she was learning, and it seemed like she didn’t mind having you around for it.
“Well,” you said, grabbing your bag from the chair. “Thanks for dinner, you two. I’ll see you around?”
Logan grunted in acknowledgment, giving you a nod. Laura followed you to the door, her small figure standing by your side as you reached for the handle.
Before you could leave, she spoke up. “Will you come over again?” Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.
You smiled softly. “Of course. Anytime.”
She nodded, her face still unreadable, but there was a certain calmness to her now, a trust that hadn’t been there before.
You gave her a little wave before stepping out into the evening air. As you walked back to your house, you couldn’t help but think about how unexpected this had all been.
---
You muttered to yourself, hanging up the phone. Your sink had started to leak, and even though you were fairly handy, when you tightened the pipes, it did nothing.
So here you were, on your lunch break, looking for a handyman that didn’t want to charge you $200 for a quick fix.
Emma walked in, holding a folder with her lesson plans. “So…”
You rolled your eyes, “don’t start.”
“What! I’ve told you, word travels fast. Rose saw you leavin’ his house last night.”
“Rose?” You shook your head, “that woman is 85 and still gossips like she’s 20.” You put your phone down, “I was helping Laura with her English homework.”
"Helping Laura with her English homework?" Emma raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "You mean, at ten o'clock at night? Sure, Y/N."
You groaned, leaning back in your chair. “It wasn’t like that. She’s struggling with some of the writing prompts, and Logan’s... well, you know he’s not exactly the best person for that.”
“Uh-huh,” Emma nodded slowly, setting her folder down. “I’m just saying, you and him… there’s something there. You can deny it all you want, but people see things.”
“People need hobbies,” you muttered. “Besides, Logan’s... complicated. It’s not that simple.”
“I’m not saying it is,” she shrugged. “But you’ve been spending more and more time with him and Laura lately. I’m just curious.”
You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “Curious about what, exactly?”
“Just curious when you're going to admit you like him,” Emma smirked.
“I don’t—" you started to argue, but stopped yourself. “Emma, he’s… I mean, I care about him, but it’s not like that. He’s a single dad with a kid, and I’m just the neighbor who helps out sometimes.”
“Yeah, sure, Y/N.” Emma grabbed her folder and gave you a pointed look, “if you don’t make a move, someone on the ‘Wolverine Watchers’ will.”
You choked on the iced coffee you took a sip of, “the what?”
Emma grinned, “the ‘Wolverine Watchers’. A bunch of women in the town created a Facebook group about him. I joined out of curiosity.”
You blinked at Emma, still processing what she’d just said. “Hold on—there’s a Facebook group about Logan? Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” Emma said with a smug smile. “They call themselves the ‘Wolverine Watchers.’ There’s, like, at least 30 women in it. Maybe more.”
You shook your head in disbelief, sinking back into your chair. “That’s insane. Why would anyone even...”
“Oh, please,” Emma interrupted. “Don’t act like you don’t get it. He’s rugged, mysterious, barely speaks to anyone, and he’s got the whole grumpy-silver-fox thing going on. They eat it up. Hell, even I get it.”
You glared at her. “You’re not helping.”
She leaned against the desk, still grinning. “Just saying, don’t wait too long, or one of them might swoop in.”
You waved her off, though a part of you felt oddly defensive about the whole thing. “Logan’s not interested in any of that.”
Emma shrugged, pushing off the desk and heading for the door. “Maybe. Maybe not. But are you interested?”
You opened your mouth to respond before shaking your head. “Okay. I’m going to forget this part of our conversation and continue to try and look for a plumber or handyman.”
Emma laughed, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “Fine, fine. But if you need help with Logan or plumbing, you know where to find me.”
She left the room at the same time Laura walked in. She walked over to the front of your desk and stared at you with those eyes of hers. “You need help?” Laura finally asked.
You shook your head, “no. Just need a plumber. The sink in my kitchen is leakin’.”
Laura tilted her head slightly, considering something. “Why don’t you ask daddy?”
You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Because your dad’s busy, and it’s not his problem to deal with. I’ll figure it out.”
“He fixed the dishwasher last week,” she pointed out quietly, a hint of mischief in her eyes. “And the dryer.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to bother him with stuff like this,” you countered, trying to ignore how her face lit up every time she mentioned something Logan had done for you. “I’m sure he’s got enough on his plate.”
Laura didn’t respond right away. Instead, she leaned against your desk, her small fingers tapping lightly on the wood. “He likes helping,” she murmured, almost like she was testing the waters.
You looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Mhm,” she nodded, but quickly glanced away, pretending to focus on the bulletin board behind you. “He’s good at fixing things.”
You watched her for a moment, your irritation from earlier starting to melt away. It was hard to stay frustrated when she was being so earnest. “Okay, okay, I get it. But your dad doesn’t need to be the town’s go-to handyman.”
Laura glanced up at you through her lashes. “Just tell him. Please?”
There was something almost… hopeful in her gaze, and you felt a twinge of guilt. Laura wasn’t the type to ask for much. If this meant that much to her…
“Fine,” you sighed, holding up your hands in surrender. “I’ll ask him. But only because you asked nicely.”
Laura’s lips twitched in the faintest smile, a look of victory crossing her face. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, but you’re not off the hook yet,” you teased gently. “You still owe me an essay on Newton’s laws of motion, remember?”
She scrunched up her nose, making a face. “I know. I’ll finish it.”
“Good,” you nodded, giving her a playful wink. “And don’t go trying to bribe me with homework just to get me to talk to your dad, okay?”
Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “I would never.”
“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically. “Alright, head back to class. Lunch is almost over.”
She gave a small nod, then glanced back at you before leaving. “He really likes you, you know.”
Your heart stuttered, caught off guard by her bluntness. “Laura—”
“Just saying,” she added quickly before ducking out the door and heading down the hallway.
You stared at the empty doorway, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Liking you? What did that even mean coming from an eleven-year-old?
You shook your head, trying to push the thought away. Logan was… well, Logan. Gruff, quiet, and often impossible to read. And sure, he’d been more present lately, but that didn’t mean anything. He was just being a good neighbor.
You glanced at the time on your phone, groaning softly. Lunch was almost over, and you hadn’t even finished setting up for the afternoon class.
“Guess I’ll ask him about the sink,” you muttered under your breath, more to convince yourself than anything.
Because if Laura was already noticing things, how long would it be before the whole town started talking?
---
That evening, after school had ended and you’d finally managed to get through the rest of your lesson plans, you found yourself standing in front of Logan’s place. It was only a short walk down the street, and yet, your feet felt heavier with each step.
You could hear the faint sound of a TV through the open window and the soft murmur of voices—Laura and Logan, probably talking about her day. It was… nice. Domestic. Something that made your chest tighten with an inexplicable emotion.
“Just ask about the sink and go,” you whispered to yourself, giving a firm nod. “No big deal.”
You knocked lightly, and a few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal Logan. He was in his usual attire—flannel shirt, jeans—and he looked at you with that same unreadable expression.
“Hey,” you said, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. “I, uh, wanted to ask for a favor.”
His brow furrowed slightly, and he stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. “What’s goin’ on?”
You hesitated, then took a deep breath. “My kitchen sink started leaking, and… well, I tried fixing it, but I think I made it worse. Laura said you’re good at this kind of stuff, so I thought… maybe…”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “You want me to take a look at it?”
“Yeah,” you nodded quickly. “If you’re not too busy. I don’t want to—”
“It’s fine,” he interrupted, already grabbing a toolbox from a nearby shelf. “Let’s go.”
You blinked. “Wait, you don’t want to, like, finish dinner or something first?”
He shot you a look that was almost amused. “I’m not gonna let your kitchen flood because of a sink. C’mon.”
You let out a small laugh, relieved by his reaction. “Okay, fair point. Thanks, Logan.”
“No problem,” he grunted, stepping out onto the porch. “Lead the way.”
As you walked back to your place, you stole a glance at him. Logan might have been gruff and intimidating to most people, but you’d come to learn there was more to him than that.
When you reached your house, Logan set to work immediately, inspecting the pipes under the sink. You leaned against the counter, watching as he tinkered and adjusted, his movements methodical and precise.
“You didn’t have to come over right away,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”
He didn’t look up, just shrugged. “It’s fine. Better to fix it now than let it get worse.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “But still… thanks.”
Logan glanced at you then, his eyes lingering for a moment longer than usual. “You don’t gotta thank me every time I do somethin’ for you, Y/N.”
“I know,” you replied, offering a small smile. “But I want to.”
He gave a low grunt, something between acknowledgment and dismissal, and returned his focus to the pipes. You stayed silent, watching him work, trying to make yourself useful by occasionally handing him a tool or holding a flashlight.
“You’ve done this before, huh?” you asked, breaking the silence again.
Logan didn’t look up, but you saw the faintest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Couple times.”
“Fixing sinks?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Or just everything?”
“Everything,” he muttered. “You learn to handle stuff when no one else can.”
There was an unspoken weight behind his words, something you didn’t pry into. You knew Logan had been through more than he let on—there were pieces of his life you still hadn’t put together, and you weren’t sure you ever would. But that didn’t stop you from being curious.
Instead, you chose to keep the conversation light. “Well, I appreciate it. I probably would’ve made a bigger mess if I’d kept trying.”
He grunted again, this time almost in agreement, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Okay, I walked into that one,” you admitted. “But seriously, thank you. Laura was right—you are good at this.”
Logan tightened the last pipe and stood, wiping his hands on a rag. “She talks too much sometimes.”
You shook your head, still smiling. “She’s just proud of you.”
He didn’t respond, his eyes darkening for a brief moment before he shifted the subject. “It’s done. Shouldn’t leak anymore, but if it does, just call me.”
You nodded, feeling that strange tightening in your chest again. “Got it. Thanks again.”
Logan grabbed his toolbox and started for the door, but something in the air between you both felt unfinished, like there was something unspoken hanging there. Before you could second-guess yourself, you called out.
“Logan?”
He paused, his back to you.
“I meant what I said earlier,” you continued, a little more quietly this time. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, and I don’t want to add to it. But I appreciate you helping me.”
Logan turned, his gaze locking onto yours. There was something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite place. For a second, you thought he might say something, but then he just gave a slow nod.
“Don’t worry about it, Y/N,” he finally said. “If you need somethin’, I’ll be around.”
He turned and walked out the door, leaving you standing in your kitchen, staring after him. You exhaled, feeling a mix of confusion and warmth.
Later that evening, as you cleaned up and prepared for the next day’s lessons, you couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in your head. Logan’s quietness, his willingness to help, Laura’s knowing smiles. There was something stirring there, something more than just neighborly concern.
But you pushed the thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the practicalities. Logan was a single dad with a complicated past, and you… well, you had your own life to focus on. This wasn’t the time to start overthinking things.
Still, as you drifted off to sleep that night, the image of Logan fixing your sink—focused, calm, and oddly comforting—stayed with you.
---
You’ve never liked storms. You’re not sure why, you grew up in Houston where it rained consistently and encountered a few hurricanes.
But when you turned 18, you went to college further north in Texas, getting away from the rain and finally getting sunshine and real heat, not humid heat.
It never rained much in the north of Minnesota, but when it did rain, it rained a lot. So much so that the school cancelled classes for the rest of the week.
You could use the time to catch up on grading assignments, but instead you found yourself barely able to keep your attention on the TV, flinching every time you heard thunder.
The storm outside raged on, lightning flashing every few seconds, followed by the rumble of thunder that rattled the windows. You glanced at the stack of papers you’d set aside to grade, but your mind just wasn’t in it.
“Why does it always feel worse at night?” you muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, trying to focus on the TV.
Then, a knock at the door startled you. You weren’t expecting anyone, especially with the weather this bad.
You got up, hesitating for a second before opening the door to reveal Laura, soaked from head to toe, holding a small flashlight.
“Laura? What are you doing out here?” you asked, eyes wide with concern.
“Our power went out,” she explained quickly, shivering slightly. “Daddy said I could come over here since your lights are still on.”
You frowned, glancing past her toward Logan’s house, which was barely visible in the heavy rain. “Is your dad coming over too?”
Laura shrugged, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “He said he’d figure it out.”
You closed the door behind her, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and handing it to her. “You should’ve just called, you know. I would’ve come to get you.”
Laura gave you a small smile as she dried off. “It’s fine. I didn’t want to wait.”
You shook your head, unable to suppress a smile at her stubbornness. “Of course you didn’t.”
The two of you sat in the living room for a while, Laura settling into the corner of the couch with her legs tucked under her, still glancing out the window at the storm every so often.
“How long’s the power been out?” you asked after a few minutes.
“Since just after dinner,” she replied. “Daddy was gonna try and fix it, but he said it might take a while.”
You nodded, already feeling a little guilty. If the power didn’t come back on soon, you’d probably end up with both of them staying over. Not that you minded, but it was one of those situations where you didn’t want to impose. Especially with Logan.
Almost on cue, there was another knock at the door, this one heavier, more deliberate.
You didn’t even have to look to know it was Logan.
You opened the door to find him standing there, drenched like Laura had been. His hair was plastered to his head, and his usual gruff expression was softened slightly by the rain dripping from his face.
“Come on in,” you said quickly, stepping aside.
Logan entered, shaking off some of the rain before giving you a nod. “Thanks. Power’s out, and I don’t think it’s comin’ back anytime soon.”
You closed the door behind him and offered him a towel, which he accepted without a word. He glanced over at Laura, who had made herself comfortable on the couch, and then back at you.
“You alright with us bein’ here?” he asked, his voice low but genuine.
“Of course,” you replied, waving it off. “I’m not gonna let you sit in the dark with no heat.”
Logan nodded, though there was something in his eyes—something like gratitude, though he didn’t voice it.
The three of you sat in the living room for a while, the storm still raging outside. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable silence, but it wasn’t awkward either. Just... quiet. Logan wasn’t one for small talk, and Laura seemed content just to be around people, her gaze flicking back and forth between you and her dad.
As the night wore on, the storm didn’t let up, and Laura’s eyelids started to droop. You glanced at the clock, noting how late it was getting.
“You’re welcome to stay the night,” you offered, glancing between them. “It’s still coming down pretty hard out there, and I don’t think the power’s coming back on soon.”
Laura perked up at the suggestion, but Logan hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “We’ll be fine,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t wanna impose.”
“You’re not imposing,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “There’s a guest bedroom, and I’ve got blankets. Besides, I’m not letting either of you walk back in this mess.”
Laura, sensing her opportunity, chimed in before Logan could object. “I want to stay,” she said quietly, her eyes big and hopeful.
Logan sighed, glancing at his daughter, clearly torn. “Laura…”
“Daddy, it’s still storming,” she added, her voice soft but insistent. “We can stay, right?”
You jumped in before he could refuse. “It’s no trouble, Logan. Really. Laura can take the guest bedroom, and I can sleep on the couch.”
Logan gave you a skeptical look. “You’re not sleepin’ on the couch in your own house.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s your bed,” he grunted. “I’ll take the couch.”
Before you could argue, Laura piped up again, her voice full of innocent mischief. “You could both sleep in the bed.”
Your eyes widened, and you quickly glanced at Logan, whose expression had shifted to one of slight surprise.
“Laura,” you started, but she just shrugged, clearly enjoying this more than she should have been.
“What?” she said innocently. “It’s a big bed.”
Logan sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You’re not helpin’, kid.”
Laura just grinned, her eyes gleaming with quiet victory. “I think I am.”
You cleared your throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “I’m fine with sleepin’ on the couch, really. Can’t really sleep when it’s stormin’ anyways.”
Laura, still lounging on the couch, piped up again, her grin growing wider. “You could just share the bed.”
Your face flushed, and you shot her a look. “Laura—”
“What?” She shrugged, playing innocent, but you could see the hint of mischief in her eyes.
Logan sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Kid, stop messin’ around.”
She held up her hands in surrender, but the teasing smile on her face didn’t budge. “I’m just saying it’s an option.”
You shook your head, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “Laura, you’re gonna sleep in the guest room. I’ll be on the couch. End of story.”
Laura rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. “Fine.”
Logan glanced at you, his eyes softening for a brief moment before he muttered, “You sure about this? I don’t wanna take your bed.”
You waved him off, trying to sound casual. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just get some rest. You’ve been out in the rain long enough.”
He hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. “Alright. But only because you won’t stop arguin’.”
“Exactly,” you said, smiling a little as you grabbed an extra blanket from the hallway closet and tossed it to Laura. “You can get settled in the guest room, kiddo.”
Laura caught the blanket and headed toward the guest room with a little bounce in her step, clearly pleased with how things were turning out. You watched her disappear down the hallway before turning back to Logan, who was still standing in the living room, looking somewhat out of place.
“You can leave your wet clothes by the door if you want,” you offered, trying to keep things normal, even though the situation felt anything but.
Logan gave a quiet grunt of acknowledgment, pulling off his soaked jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. He moved slowly, like he was still debating whether to argue about the sleeping arrangements again, but thankfully, he didn’t.
After a minute, he glanced back at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You really are stubborn, you know that?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Takes one to know one.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he walked past you toward your bedroom. “Fair enough.”
Once he disappeared into the room, you let out a small sigh, running a hand through your hair. This was... not how you expected your night to go. Sharing your house with both Logan and Laura during a storm, with Laura sneakily playing matchmaker. It was almost funny, if not for the fact that Logan being this close made your heart race a little too much for comfort.
You settled back onto the couch, pulling a blanket over yourself and staring at the TV screen without really watching it. The sound of rain pounding against the windows and the occasional crack of thunder filled the quiet, but it was hard to focus on the storm when you knew Logan was in the next room.
Laura had probably planned this all along.
You glanced toward the hallway where the guest room was, wondering if she was already asleep—or if she was lying there, scheming her next move.
Thunder broke you out of your thoughts, making you flinch slightly under the blankets.
You settled deeper into the couch, but sleep wasn’t coming any easier despite the exhaustion from the day. Your mind kept wandering, mostly back to Logan and how natural it had started to feel having him and Laura around. Maybe a little too natural.
A sharp crack of thunder rattled the windows, and you flinched again, instinctively pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. You’d thought you were getting used to storms, but this one was relentless, dragging on with no signs of easing up.
Just when you started to think you’d be up all night, you heard the soft creak of the floorboards behind you. You turned, expecting to see Laura coming out of the guest room, but instead, Logan stood there in the dim light of the living room, looking as uncomfortable as you felt.
“Can’t sleep?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady, despite the storm.
He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. “Not used to sleepin’ anywhere but my own bed.”
You nodded, biting back a knowing smile. “Yeah, I get that. Storm’s not helping much either.”
Logan’s eyes flicked to the window, then back to you. His gaze was a little softer than usual, like the storm had taken some of the edge off his usual roughness. “You alright? Heard you jumpin’ every time the thunder hits.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to brush off his concern. “It’s nothing. Just... not a fan of storms.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” Logan said, stepping further into the room. He hesitated for a moment, then moved to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Don’t have to tough it out, y’know.”
You looked up at him, caught off guard by the gentleness in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be this open, to offer any sort of comfort. He usually kept things buried under layers of gruffness and distance.
“Guess I’m just used to toughing it out,” you said softly, offering him a small smile.
Logan studied you for a moment, his eyes flicking over your face, like he was weighing his next words carefully. “You don’t always have to. Not with us.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. You weren’t sure what to say. This side of Logan—the quiet, protective side—was something you’d only seen glimpses of before, but tonight, it was like the storm had brought down some of his walls.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” you finally said, but your voice lacked its usual conviction.
“Not worryin’,” Logan replied, his gaze steady. “Just statin’ a fact.”
The thunder rolled again, quieter this time, as if the storm was finally starting to let up. Logan’s eyes lingered on you for a beat longer, before he stood up, looking like he was about to head back to the bedroom.
But then he paused, glancing over his shoulder. “If you want... there’s room in the bed.”
Your breath hitched, and you blinked up at him, not sure if you heard him right. “What?”
Logan’s lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smile, but his expression remained serious. “I ain’t suggestin’ what Laura was earlier,” he muttered, a little embarrassed. “Just... if it helps you sleep better, I don’t mind. Couch’s not exactly comfortable.”
Your heart thudded in your chest, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. Logan wasn’t the type to offer comfort lightly, and the idea of sharing a bed with him—platonically or not—made your pulse quicken.
“I—” You faltered, unsure how to respond. But something in the way he was looking at you made it clear this wasn’t just about the storm or being polite. This was about something more—something that had been quietly building between the two of you for a while now.
Before you could overthink it, you nodded. “Okay.”
Logan’s eyebrows raised slightly, surprised by your answer. He stepped aside as you stood, grabbing the blanket from the couch. Neither of you said anything as you walked down the hallway to your bedroom, the tension thick but not uncomfortable—more like an understanding had settled between you.
Once inside, Logan shifted awkwardly as you took your side of the bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, trying to act like this was normal, like your heart wasn’t racing in your chest. Logan laid down on the opposite side, keeping a respectful distance, though the bed felt smaller with him in it.
The sound of the rain outside softened, though the occasional rumble of thunder still rolled in the distance. You stared at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Logan beside you, the space between you feeling charged.
“You good?” Logan asked after a minute, his voice low in the quiet.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”
A beat passed. Then another.
“Thanks,” you added, not just for offering the bed, but for being there, for not making this weird.
Logan turned his head slightly to look at you, his eyes soft in the dim light. “Ain’t nothin’.”
But it was something. It was a lot, actually.
You both lay there in silence for a while, the sound of the rain becoming almost soothing. You could feel the warmth of him next to you, solid and reassuring, and slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease.
Just as your eyes started to drift closed, Logan’s voice broke the silence again, so quiet you almost missed it.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured, his voice gruff but sincere. “You don’t have to do this on your own. Not with us around.”
Your heart swelled, a mix of emotions you weren’t quite ready to confront just yet. You didn’t know what to say, so instead, you reached out, your hand brushing against his in the small space between you.
Logan didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers curled gently around yours, his grip warm and steady.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, you fell asleep without flinching at the sound of thunder.
---
You woke up to the sound of soft rain pattering against the window, the storm from last night finally easing up. For a second, you forgot where you were, until you felt the weight of the blanket and the warmth of another presence next to you. Logan. His steady breathing filled the quiet space, and you shifted slightly, careful not to wake him.
This was new.
You glanced over at him, his face relaxed in sleep, the tension he usually carried nowhere to be found. It was strange seeing him like this—calm, almost peaceful. You could feel the residual warmth from his hand where he’d held yours last night, and the memory made your chest tighten.
Carefully, you slipped out of bed, not wanting to disturb the rare moment of quiet. You padded out into the hallway, stopping by Laura’s room to peek in. She was still asleep, wrapped up in blankets, her small body barely a lump under the covers.
You smiled to yourself, already suspecting that she had something to do with last night’s sleeping arrangements. Laura was too clever for her own good sometimes.
In the kitchen, you started brewing coffee, the scent filling the small space. As you waited for it to finish, you found yourself staring out the window, your mind still on Logan. Last night had been... unexpected. But not unwelcome. The way he’d stayed close, offering comfort without making a big deal out of it—it meant more than you wanted to admit.
The soft creak of footsteps behind you pulled you out of your thoughts.
“You’re up early,” Logan’s gravelly voice broke the quiet.
You turned to see him leaning against the doorway, his hair still a little mussed from sleep, but otherwise looking much like his usual self.
“Couldn’t sleep much after the storm,” you shrugged, offering him a small smile. “Coffee?”
“Yeah,” he grunted, moving to sit at the kitchen table. “Thanks.”
You poured two mugs, setting one in front of him before taking a seat across from him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, just sipping your coffee in the comfortable silence that had settled between you.
Logan glanced at you over the rim of his mug, his eyes softer than usual. “You sleep alright?”
You hesitated, remembering how easily you’d fallen asleep next to him. “Better than I expected, honestly.”
He grunted in acknowledgment, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess the storm wasn’t as bad as you thought.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck. “Or maybe it was the company.”
Logan’s smirk widened slightly, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on you again. “Thanks for lettin’ us stay. Laura didn’t give you much choice, huh?”
“She didn’t have to,” you replied with a shrug. “I wasn’t gonna let either of you stay in a freezing house with no power.”
Logan nodded, his eyes drifting to the window. “Power should be back on soon. I’ll head back once it’s up.”
You didn’t say anything, but part of you felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving so soon. You hadn’t had many moments like this—quiet, with just the two of you—and you found yourself wanting it to last a little longer.
Laura’s quiet footsteps broke the silence as she padded into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes sleepily.
“Mornin’, kid,” Logan greeted her.
“Mornin’,” Laura mumbled, glancing between the two of you with a knowing look before plopping down at the table. “Is the power back on yet?”
“Not yet,” you said, trying to ignore the way she was eyeing you and Logan.
Laura just shrugged, grabbing the cereal box from the counter and helping herself. “Guess we’re stuck here a little longer, huh?”
You shot her a look, but she didn’t seem fazed, her focus on her cereal. It was hard to tell if she was playing innocent or if she was just that good at pretending.
“So, what’s the plan for today?” you asked, trying to shift the conversation.
Laura perked up at that. “You said you’d help me with my English homework, remember?”
You blinked. “I—uh, right. Yeah, I did say that.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at Laura. “Since when do you need help with English?”
Laura shot him a quick look before turning back to you, all smiles. “I figured Ms. Aberra would be better at explaining it than you.”
You narrowed your eyes at her, starting to catch on. “I’m sure you’re doing fine in English, Laura.”
She shrugged, playing with her spoon. “Yeah, but it’s better when someone explains it.”
Logan just shook his head, clearly not buying it either, but he didn’t say anything, letting Laura’s little game play out.
“Well,” you said, getting up from the table. “I guess we can take a look at it after breakfast.”
Laura grinned, clearly pleased with how things were going. “Thanks, Ms. Aberra.”
You smiled back, even though you knew something was up. Sure, you had been helping her with English homework for a while now, but she didn’t need the help. When she would show you her essays or answers to questions about a reading, they were always perfect. Still, you played along, grabbing your coffee and heading toward the living room.
“Alright,” you said, glancing over your shoulder at her. “Go grab your stuff, and we’ll take a look.”
Laura jumped up, cereal forgotten, and dashed off to retrieve her things. You settled onto the couch, sipping your coffee and trying to push aside the strange feeling that this was part of something bigger. But what?
Logan followed you into the living room, sitting down in the worn armchair opposite you. He gave you a look—one eyebrow slightly raised, lips set in that half-smirk he sometimes wore when he was figuring someone out.
“She really roped you into this, huh?” he asked, voice low and rough.
You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to kids asking for help with schoolwork.”
“Yeah, but Laura? She doesn’t ask for help unless she’s got some kind of angle.”
You laughed softly, but the truth of his words settled somewhere in the back of your mind. Laura wasn’t just a smart kid—she was calculating. You’d seen it in class and at home. The way she observed things, the way she always seemed to know what was going on, even when no one said a word.
“I guess I’ll find out,” you said, leaning back into the couch.
Before Logan could reply, Laura returned, a small notebook and a pencil in hand. She sat beside you, flipping it open to a random page. You glanced at the page, immediately noticing that it was filled with neat, almost perfect handwriting. The essay she’d written didn’t have a single correction or revision mark.
“Alright,” you began, pretending you didn’t see the perfection in front of you. “What do you need help with?”
Laura handed the notebook over, her face perfectly serious. “I just wanted to know if the introduction’s strong enough.”
You skimmed through the first paragraph, and honestly, it was better than anything you’d expect from a sixth grader. If anything, it felt more like she was testing you than asking for actual feedback.
“It’s good,” you said slowly. “Your thesis is clear, and you have a strong opening sentence. You might want to make the transition to your first point a little smoother, but overall, it’s solid.”
Laura nodded thoughtfully, pretending to make a note in her notebook. You watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what game she was playing. There was no way she needed your help, but for some reason, she wanted you here. And Logan, too.
Logan just sat quietly, watching the two of you like he wasn’t quite sure what was happening either. His hand rested on the arm of the chair, fingers tapping lightly. You could feel his presence, steady and grounding, even when he wasn’t saying anything.
Laura glanced at her dad. “Ms. Aberra’s a pretty good teacher, don’t you think?”
Logan’s eyes flicked to you, his smirk back in full force. “Yeah, I’d say so.”
You gave Laura a suspicious look. “You’re not just buttering me up for extra credit, are you?”
Laura’s eyes widened in mock innocence. “No. I just like the way you explain things.”
“Mhm.” You weren’t buying it, but it was hard not to laugh.
The quiet hung between you all for a moment, just the sound of the rain outside and the occasional scrape of Laura’s pencil against her notebook. It felt… peaceful, despite the nagging feeling that something was going on beneath the surface.
“Alright, well,” you finally said, pushing yourself up from the couch. “Looks like you’ve got this handled, Laura. I don’t think you need much help.”
Laura blinked up at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks anyway.”
You caught the look she sent Logan’s way, and suddenly, it clicked. She didn’t need your help with homework—she was just trying to get you to stick around a little longer. Maybe even trying to give you and Logan more time together.
Smart kid.
Logan, of course, said nothing, just watching you with that unreadable expression he wore so well. You could never quite tell what he was thinking, and it both frustrated and intrigued you.
"So," Laura said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "What’s the plan today?"
You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You’re the one with the notebook full of perfect essays. I thought you had plans."
Laura grinned at that, not even trying to hide it anymore. "I was thinking we could all go out for lunch. Since we’re stuck here."
Logan gave her a look, but didn’t say anything, clearly seeing through her. You stifled a laugh, playing along. "Lunch, huh? You paying?"
Laura shrugged, looking way too pleased with herself. "I’ll ask nicely. Maybe you’ll cover it."
You shook your head, pretending to think it over. "Might be able to swing it."
Logan snorted. "Real generous of you."
"Hey, I’m a teacher. Gotta budget wisely," you shot back, smirking at him.
Laura just smiled, clearly happy with how things were going, and it hit you again—she was definitely playing matchmaker. Subtle, but it was there. Not that you minded. Spending more time with Logan wasn’t exactly a hardship.
Logan leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on you, though. "You’re sure you don’t mind us hanging around?"
You tilted your head, genuinely surprised. "Logan, if I minded, I wouldn’t have let you in. You’re both always welcome here."
For a second, he looked like he was going to argue, but then he just gave a slow nod, like he was accepting it—maybe even appreciating it, though he’d never say that out loud. "Thanks."
You shrugged, trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal, even though you knew it kind of was. "Don’t mention it."
Laura got up, stretching her arms over her head before grabbing her empty bowl. "I’ll go get ready for lunch then," she said, already heading to the sink. "I’m starving."
You watched her go, then turned back to Logan, raising an eyebrow. "Think we’ve got time for that before the power comes back on?"
Logan shrugged, his smirk returning. "Could be out a while longer."
"Convenient," you muttered, though there was no real bite to it.
Logan chuckled, a low, rough sound that made something in your chest tighten. He set his empty mug on the coffee table and stood up, stretching slightly. "Guess we better make sure the kid doesn’t eat the place out of food while we wait."
You laughed, following him into the kitchen. The dynamic between the three of you felt easy now, comfortable in a way that surprised you. Even with Laura’s not-so-subtle attempts at matchmaking, there was something natural about how you and Logan were around each other. It wasn’t rushed or forced. Just... right.
Laura appeared from the hallway, already dressed and tugging on her jacket. "Ready when you are," she said, a little too cheerfully.
Logan gave her a look. "We haven’t even decided where we’re going."
"I’ll leave that up to the grown-ups," she said, grabbing her shoes.
You exchanged a glance with Logan, both of you clearly thinking the same thing: this kid was way too clever for her own good. But neither of you called her out on it.
"Alright," Logan finally said, grabbing his jacket. "Let’s get going before the power comes back and ruins her plan."
Laura grinned but didn’t say anything, grabbing your hand as you all headed out into the damp, cool air. The rain had finally stopped, but the sky was still overcast, a soft, gray light filtering through the clouds.
You walked beside Logan, Laura skipping a few steps ahead, her eyes darting around like she was taking everything in. She was always like that—watching, observing. And now you knew why. She was playing a long game, slowly pushing you and Logan closer together, little by little.
You couldn’t help but smile. She was good. Really good.
And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to appreciate her efforts.
---
The school did something special for parents on Valentine’s Day. Instead of just handing out donuts or cupcakes, they did a competition.
There was different challenges for each couple, or pairing, to finish, and to make it even better, their kids would have to guide them on certain challenges, like walking blindfolded to the finish line on the field.
Emma glanced over at you as you were going through the list of parent’s names, making sure everyone had a partner. There were a few single parents, so you had to figure out who they should be paired with. But there was an odd number, one parent would have to sit out.
“So… who’s sitting out?” Emma asked, leaning on the desk next to you. She had that casual curiosity in her tone, but you knew she was just as invested in making sure things ran smoothly as you were.
You chewed your lip, staring at the list. “Looks like we’ve got one extra parent. I’m not sure yet.”
Emma peeked over your shoulder, scanning the names. “What about Logan?”
You paused, looking at the list. Logan’s name was there, as was Laura’s, but you hesitated. He wasn’t exactly the type to jump into school events, especially one that involved blindfolds and teamwork. And while he’d been involved in Laura’s life, you weren’t sure he’d want to participate in something like this.
“Yeah, guess he can sit out. We have an odd number of parents anyways.” You put down the clipboard and looked at the empty donut box, “I’ll be right back. Gonna go to the other room and get another box.”
As you moved toward the door, you noticed Laura sitting quietly in the corner, fiddling with her notebook, watching everything with that usual sharpness in her eyes. She had been quiet all morning, almost too quiet. You gave her a smile before heading to the break room, still feeling a little awkward about pairing up the parents.
Emma stayed behind, her eyes flicking between you and Laura, a slight smirk tugging at her lips like she was onto something.
You weaved through the hallway, your mind still on the whole situation. These parent events were always a little tricky when it came to single parents. You knew Logan wasn’t exactly the type to jump into the school scene, especially for something like a Valentine’s Day competition, but you couldn’t help but think maybe he’d want to give it a shot for Laura.
Grabbing the donut box, you paused for a second. The idea of Logan being there today, paired up with someone else, didn’t sit right. Not that you had any reason to feel that way. It was just... Logan. You weren’t even sure if he’d show up.
When you returned to the room, Laura was still sitting there, now scribbling something in her notebook. She glanced up as you entered, her expression neutral but her eyes watching you closely.
“Everything okay?” you asked, setting the fresh box on the table and moving to grab the clipboard again.
Laura nodded. “Yeah, just thinking.”
“Thinking about the competition?” You smiled, trying to make conversation, but she just gave you a vague shrug.
“Something like that.”
Emma glanced at you, her smirk still there as she made a little noise of amusement. “Logan didn’t strike me as the ‘competition’ type. But who knows?”
You shot her a look, but before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan walked in. Speak of the devil. He looked around, taking in the sight of parents getting ready, kids buzzing with excitement. His eyes landed on you, and he gave a short nod, his usual gruff greeting.
“You’re here,” you said, surprised, trying to keep your voice casual. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, his hands in his pockets. “Laura signed us up. Thought I’d better show.”
Laura, sitting nearby, perked up but kept her face mostly neutral. She wasn’t about to blow her cover, not yet anyway.
“Right,” you said, glancing down at the clipboard. “Well, there’s an odd number of parents, so... I was thinking maybe you’d sit out.”
Laura, quick as ever, jumped in. “Or you could partner with someone else.”
You blinked at her, caught off guard. “Well, yeah, I guess, but we don’t really have—”
“You could partner with Daddy.” Laura said it so simply, like it wasn’t a big deal, like she hadn’t been plotting this for weeks.
Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between the two of you, clearly realizing what his daughter was doing, but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, waiting for your reaction.
You stammered a bit, caught completely off guard. “I—I don’t know if that’s a good idea...”
Laura gave you a look, one that said she knew exactly what she was doing. “It’s just for the competition. Besides, it’ll be fun.”
Logan’s gaze flicked to you again, and this time, there was a slight smirk on his face. “It’s just a game, right? We’ll survive.”
Emma, watching the whole thing play out, was trying very hard not to laugh. “Looks like you’re stuck with Logan, Y/N.”
You felt a wave of heat rise in your cheeks. It was one thing to think about spending time with Logan, but being thrown into a school competition with him—especially with Laura being the mastermind behind it—was another.
“Okay, fine,” you muttered, trying to act like this wasn’t a big deal at all. “I guess we’ll partner up.”
Logan just gave a nonchalant shrug. “Let’s get this over with.”
Laura’s eyes practically sparkled with victory as she hopped up from her seat, already heading toward the field where the first challenge would take place. You followed, trying to shake off the awkwardness, but it was impossible with Logan right next to you.
As you reached the field, the first task was announced: a three-legged race. Of course. Out of all the challenges, it had to be this one. You glanced over at Logan, who was already eyeing the ropes being handed out for the pairs to tie their legs together.
"This should be interesting," Logan muttered under his breath, taking one of the ropes and holding it out for you.
You raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your nerves behind a smile. "I feel like this is a recipe for disaster."
Logan’s lips quirked into a smirk. "Only if you don’t keep up."
"Me?" You chuckled, shaking your head as you bent down to tie the rope around your ankle and his. "You’re the one with the bum leg."
Logan grunted, not arguing, though his usual swagger was still intact. "I’ll manage."
Laura stood off to the side, watching with a faint smile, clearly enjoying the show. You could tell she was pleased with herself, and part of you was too, even if you were trying to act like this was no big deal.
"Alright, ready?" Logan asked, standing up straighter after securing the rope.
"As I’ll ever be," you replied, trying to gauge the best way to navigate the race without falling flat on your face.
The whistle blew, and before you knew it, you were awkwardly hopping forward, one leg bound to Logan’s as you tried to find some sort of rhythm. The first few steps were disastrous—Logan’s longer strides making it nearly impossible for you to keep pace without stumbling.
"Slow down!" you laughed, grabbing his arm to steady yourself as you nearly tripped.
Logan smirked, his hand quickly coming to your waist to keep you from toppling over. "You gotta move faster than that, Y/N."
"Or maybe you need to move slower!" you shot back, trying to adjust your steps to match his. After a few shaky moments, you finally found a rhythm, the two of you moving in sync—well, mostly. Logan’s hand lingered at your waist, steadying you as you both half-hopped, half-laughed your way toward the finish line.
"Not bad," Logan grunted as you crossed the line, not quite first, but definitely not last either.
"Not bad?" You shot him a look, still a little breathless from laughing. "I’m pretty sure we almost face-planted three times."
"Could’ve been worse," he replied with a shrug, that smirk of his still in place.
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart was still racing—though you weren’t sure if it was from the race or from the fact that Logan had kept his arm around your waist longer than necessary.
Laura, waiting at the sidelines, gave you both a knowing look as you untied the rope. "You guys were pretty good," she commented casually, though the glint in her eyes said otherwise.
"Pretty good?" you echoed, shooting her a playful glare. "We almost ate dirt, Laura."
Logan grunted in agreement but didn’t say much, just shaking his head as he rubbed his leg a bit. You noticed the slight grimace that flashed across his face—something you hadn’t seen often, but it was there for just a moment before he covered it up.
"Next challenge is... egg balancing," Emma announced from the other end of the field, holding up a spoon and a carton of eggs.
You and Logan exchanged a look, and you couldn’t help but laugh. "Oh, this’ll be fun."
Logan just sighed, clearly less than thrilled about the prospect of trying to balance an egg on a spoon, but he didn’t protest. You handed him one of the spoons as you lined up for the next round.
"You got a steady hand?" you teased, raising an eyebrow at him.
Logan glanced at the spoon, then back at you. "Steadier than yours, probably."
"Let’s see about that," you shot back, placing the egg carefully on your spoon. The whistle blew, and you both started across the field, trying to keep the fragile eggs from toppling off. You had to admit, Logan had a surprising amount of focus for a guy who usually looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
"Not bad for an old man," you joked, glancing over at him as you both carefully moved toward the finish line.
"Careful, Y/N. That’s how you get egg on your face," Logan muttered, but you could hear the amusement in his voice.
Just as you were nearing the end, Laura darted over, watching closely. "Come on, you guys can do it!"
It was hard to ignore the pride in her voice—she was definitely enjoying watching you two work together. And maybe, despite the ridiculousness of it all, you were too.
By the time you finished, both of your eggs still intact, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. It was silly, sure, but being paired with Logan for these goofy challenges wasn’t as awkward as you thought it might be. In fact, it was... kind of nice.
"Two for two," Logan said with a smirk, handing his spoon back as the event wrapped up.
"Don’t get too cocky," you replied, bumping his arm lightly as you handed yours in too. "We’ll see how you do with the next one."
Laura appeared beside you again, her eyes bright. "You guys make a good team."
You gave her a sideways glance, trying not to read too much into her words. "Yeah, well, it’s all about teamwork, right?"
Logan didn’t say anything, but his eyes met yours for a brief moment, and there was something there—something unspoken that made your heart skip a beat.
The rest of the day went by in a blur of silly games and laughter, and by the time the event was over, you were exhausted, but in the best way possible. Logan had stayed the whole time, never complaining or trying to bow out early. Laura, of course, was thrilled with how things had turned out, and you couldn’t help but feel like she had succeeded in whatever plan she had been cooking up.
As the parents and kids started to trickle out of the school, you found yourself standing beside Logan near the door. Laura had already run ahead to grab her things, leaving the two of you alone for a moment.
"Thanks for sticking around," you said, glancing up at him. "I know this probably wasn’t your idea of a fun day."
Logan shrugged, his usual nonchalant expression in place. "Wasn’t so bad."
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I’m glad you came. Laura seemed to really enjoy it."
"Yeah," Logan agreed, his gaze softening slightly as he looked in the direction where Laura had run off. "She’s a good kid."
"She is," you said, nodding. "And she’s lucky to have you."
Logan didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he gave a small nod. "Thanks."
There was a brief silence between you, the air charged with something unspoken but palpable. Before you could say anything else, Laura came bounding back, her backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Ready to go?" she asked, looking between the two of you with that same knowing glint in her eyes.
"Yeah," Logan said, ruffling her hair lightly. "Let’s get outta here."
As they started to head for the door, Logan paused, glancing back at you. "See you around, Y/N."
"Yeah," you replied, feeling your heart skip again. "See you around, Logan."
---
It had been a few days since the Valentine’s Day event, and things had settled back into routine. You were sitting in your living room, halfway through grading papers, when there was a knock on your door.
Opening it, you found Logan standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.
"Hey," he greeted, voice low. "Laura wanted me to ask if you'd join us for dinner tonight. Nothing fancy. Just... thought it’d be nice."
You blinked, surprised by the invitation. Logan wasn’t exactly the type to invite people over casually, but something about the way he stood there, slightly awkward, made your heart skip a beat.
"Sure," you said, smiling. "I’d like that."
Dinner at Logan’s place was unexpectedly warm. Laura set the table with care, and you found yourself laughing more than you expected as Logan recounted some old stories about his past. The tension that usually simmered between you felt different tonight—softer, like you were slowly crossing an invisible line you’d both been careful to avoid.
As you helped clear the dishes, your hand brushed against Logan’s, and the brief contact made you pause. He glanced at you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. It was like a quiet acknowledgment of something building between you.
“Thanks for coming,” he said, his voice low, his gaze lingering just a little too long.
“Anytime,” you replied softly, feeling the weight of his eyes on you as you turned to put the plates away. You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest, but it was hard with Logan standing so close. It was like every time you were around him, you felt like something unspoken hovered between you—something that Laura, in her quiet, clever way, seemed determined to help along.
Laura wandered back into the room, a book in her hands. “Y/N, can you help me with my English homework?” she asked, holding it up and glancing between you and Logan like she hadn’t just interrupted a moment.
You blinked, turning to her with a small smile. “Of course, I can take a look.”
“Great!” Laura said, her voice a little too cheerful. She plopped down on the couch and spread her notebook and book out in front of her. “It’s this essay I’ve got to write.”
Logan lingered by the kitchen counter, his eyes flicking to Laura’s book with an expression you couldn’t quite read. “I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he muttered, and before you could say anything, he was stepping outside, probably to get some fresh air or give you and Laura some space.
You turned your attention back to Laura, still smiling but a bit confused. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got here.”
Laura launched into an explanation, talking about a character analysis she needed to do for class. As you glanced over her notes, though, it struck you that everything was pretty much perfect. Her sentences were clear, her argument made sense, and she’d clearly put a lot of thought into it. Like always, it was perfect.
“Laura… this is really good,” you said slowly, giving her an impressed look. “I don’t think you need help with this.”
Laura’s face stayed impassive, but you caught a faint hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay,” she said casually, glancing in the direction Logan had gone.
Something clicked then, and you had to suppress a chuckle. So this was just another one of Laura’s little schemes to get you to stick around. You were starting to see the pattern—tiny excuses to keep you close, to get you and Logan in the same room more often. It was subtle, but now that you were catching on, it was impossible to miss.
“Well, your essay’s great,” you said, folding your arms as you gave her a knowing look. “But I think there’s more going on here than just English homework.”
Laura’s gaze stayed steady on yours, and for a moment, you could see a glimpse of something deeper in those eyes—something far beyond her years. “He’s lonely,” she said quietly, so softly that you almost missed it.
Your heart gave a small squeeze at that. It was true that Logan always seemed like a man on the outskirts of everything, never quite fitting in. And you knew he and Laura had been through a lot together, more than most people could imagine. But he wasn’t exactly the type to talk about his feelings—or admit he might need someone else in his life.
“Maybe,” you replied gently, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. “But that’s something he has to figure out on his own, okay?”
Laura nodded slowly, but she didn’t look entirely convinced. “He likes you,” she said, blunt as ever. “And you like him.”
Your cheeks heated, and you glanced away, trying to keep your voice steady. It wasn’t the first time Laura has said something like this. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”
“Why not?” she asked, her brow furrowing like she genuinely didn’t understand.
You struggled to find the right words. How could you explain that things with Logan were complicated—that you weren’t sure where you stood with him, or if there was even a place for you in his life beyond being Laura’s teacher? And yet, every time you were near him, there was this pull, this quiet magnetism that made you wonder.
“I just… don’t want to mess things up,” you admitted finally, feeling a little silly for having this conversation with an eleven-year-old.
Laura’s gaze softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “You won’t.”
Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Logan stepped back inside, his gaze immediately going to the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, his tone gruff but laced with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Yeah, we’re good,” you said quickly, trying to push down the strange mix of emotions Laura’s words had stirred up. You stood up, smoothing down your shirt as you gave him a smile. “I should probably get going, though. It’s getting late.”
Logan nodded, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that almost looked like disappointment. “I’ll walk you out.”
He led you to the door, and you hesitated for a moment, glancing back at Laura. She gave you a small, encouraging smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.
“Thanks again for coming,” Logan said as he opened the door, his voice a little softer than usual.
“Anytime,” you replied, echoing your earlier words as you stepped outside. The cool night air hit you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the weight of Logan’s gaze on you.
There was a long pause, the kind that felt like something should be said, but neither of you knew what. You shifted on your feet, biting your lip as you glanced up at him.
“Logan, I—”
“Y/N, I—”
You both spoke at the same time, then paused, sharing a startled laugh.
“You first,” Logan muttered, his lips twitching into a faint smile.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I wanted to say that I really enjoyed tonight. And I know Laura’s been… well, playing matchmaker or something,” you added with a chuckle, “but I just want you to know that I’m not—”
“Using her as an excuse to get close?” Logan finished for you, his voice dry but not unkind.
You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. “Yeah.”
Logan stood there, his eyes steady on yours, and for a moment, you both let the silence fill the space between you. He shifted his weight, his usual stoic expression softening just a bit, and for the first time, it felt like he was truly considering what to say next.
"Look, I know Laura's been trying to push things," he said, his voice low and gruff, but gentler than usual. "She's... smart, too smart sometimes. But this—tonight—it wasn’t just about her."
You blinked, surprised by his admission. You weren’t used to Logan being so open, especially about anything personal. He seemed to read the surprise in your face and let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the back of his neck like this was harder for him than any physical fight he’d been in.
"What I mean is," he continued, glancing at the ground before his eyes flicked back up to yours, "it’s not just her, Y/N. I didn’t mind tonight. And that’s not something I say often."
Your breath hitched a little at his words, heart beating a little faster. There was a vulnerability in Logan that you weren’t expecting—a side of him that he clearly didn’t let out much, if at all.
"I didn’t mind it either," you said softly, trying to match his tone, to let him know you weren’t taking this lightly. "And Laura... well, she’s got a way of seeing things."
Logan let out a quiet chuckle, a rare sound that caught you off guard. "Yeah, she does. Sometimes I think she’s too smart for her own good." His eyes softened as he spoke about her, a fondness there that made you smile.
"She just wants you to be happy," you said gently. "And, I guess, maybe me too."
Logan looked at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you, and for the first time, you wondered if maybe—just maybe—there was something more here than just a shared concern for Laura. You had always admired Logan’s strength, his quiet loyalty, the way he looked after Laura with such fierce protectiveness. But standing there now, with the night air cool against your skin and Logan’s presence so close, it felt different. More personal.
"You know," Logan said after a long pause, his voice low again, "I don’t exactly have a lot of people in my life. Never been good at that sort of thing. But... you’re good with Laura. And you’re—" He stopped, his jaw tightening for a second like he wasn’t sure if he should say the next part. "You’re good for us."
Your heart thudded in your chest, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you could feel the weight of what he wasn’t saying—the layers beneath that simple statement. You’re good for us. It wasn’t just about being Laura’s teacher anymore. It was about something more.
Your heart thudded in your chest, but you forced a smile to keep things light. “Good for you?” you repeated with a slight chuckle. There was an ache there, something that hinted at how much more those words meant coming from Logan—someone who didn’t let people in easily. The way he looked at you, steady and deliberate, made it hard to brush aside. His eyes held yours a little longer than usual, almost daring you to look away.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice a low rumble, and you couldn’t help but notice how the weight of the night seemed to gather between you, thick in the air. Logan’s usual guarded stance had softened, just enough for you to sense it. He stepped a bit closer, enough that you could feel the faint warmth of him, the earthy scent of cigars and the wild outdoors clinging to his skin.
You shifted on your feet, trying to figure out where this was heading, but the flutter in your chest only grew stronger. Something unspoken seemed to pass between you two, like a current beneath the surface, waiting for one of you to reach down and touch it.
“I think Laura’s got something figured out,” you admitted, voice soft as you kept your eyes on him. “She’s smart enough to see what’s happening here.”
Logan’s lips quirked into a small, barely-there smile. “Yeah, too smart sometimes.” His gaze fell to the ground for a moment, and when he looked back up at you, there was something different there—something raw. “But she’s right. You’re good for us. Hell, you’re good for me.” His words carried a weight, a kind of honesty that took you by surprise, even though deep down, you’d been hoping to hear them for a while.
You swallowed, trying to keep your composure, but your pulse quickened. “Logan, I…” You started to say something—anything—to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat. He was so close now, you could feel the heat radiating off him, and there was a wildness in his eyes that drew you in.
And then, as if some invisible line snapped, Logan took another step toward you, his rough hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb grazed your skin, the touch light but electrifying. “I don’t say things like this often,” he muttered, his voice husky, the growl in it more pronounced now, “but I want you to stay close. For Laura, yeah, but... for me too.”
Your breath hitched as his words sank in, your body reacting to the closeness of him, the way his hand lingered on your cheek. It wasn’t just the softness in his eyes or the tenderness of his touch, but the way he was looking at you, like he was seeing more than just the surface.
“I’ve wanted to stay close,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper, as your hand gently touched his chest. His heartbeat was strong, steady, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, like the pull between you was more than just chemistry.
Logan’s gaze dropped to your lips, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the cool night air, the sound of distant traffic, even the faint light from inside the house. All that mattered was the closeness, the way you could feel his breath mingling with yours.
Before you knew it, Logan was leaning in, and you closed the gap without thinking. His lips pressed against yours, rough and warm, and everything else just melted away. The kiss was slow at first, almost tentative, but then it deepened, and the heat between you flared like wildfire.
His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer against him, and you could feel the solid strength of his body as you pressed into him. The kiss was everything you hadn’t let yourself think about for so long—filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.
Logan kissed like he lived—intensely, without holding back. His grip on your waist tightened as if he was afraid to let go, and you responded in kind, threading your fingers into the rough texture of his hair. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing; just the two of you, connected in this raw, unexpected moment.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, you both stood there for a moment, neither of you saying anything. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Logan’s forehead rested against yours, his breath still ragged.
“I—” you started to speak, but he cut you off, his voice low and hoarse.
“Don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “Don’t ruin it with words, not yet.”
You nodded, biting back whatever thought was trying to escape. The night air felt cooler now, the warmth of Logan’s body contrasting sharply against it, grounding you in the moment. His hand lingered on your waist, thumb brushing your side, and you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, like even he was surprised by what just happened.
After a long silence, he finally spoke, voice quieter than before. “Didn’t think this’d happen,” he admitted, almost to himself.
You gave a soft laugh, still trying to catch your breath. “Me either.”
His lips quirked into the faintest of smiles, and he shifted slightly, his hand moving from your waist to gently brush your cheek. The gesture was so uncharacteristically tender for him that it made your heart twist a little.
For a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you. Part of you wanted to step back, to put some distance between you and Logan, to give yourself a chance to think. But another part—the stronger part—wanted to stay right where you were, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, the rough edge of his thumb grazing your cheek.
Meanwhile, Laura peeked through the blinds, a smile spreading across her face.
tags: @freythecrazyfae
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett#old man logan
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Continuation of this. A bit suggestive at the end.
Loser yandere was on his knees, begging for forgiveness. He got ahead of himself. Sucking your fingers like a perverted freak. He looked up at you with glassy eyes, pouting just slightly. He didn't mind your pity. In fact, he wanted it. The worst he made himself look, the more you let things pass.
You sighed, ultimately having no choice but to forgive him. He looked so sad, so lonely. Like a stray puppy begging for attention. Why wouldn't you spare his feelings? He had no real friends. It made sense that he didn't know how to act properly.
Except he did. He was just manipulating you, saying the right things to make you cave and hang out with him. He would speak with a certain depressed tone that would melt your heart, and when you agreed, he would become extremely happy. Cheering and overreacting. A great excuse to excitedly hug you. Throw his arms around your shoulders and get lost in your scent.
He was strangely smart. Using both negative and positive reinforcement. Getting you to say yes to avoid making him sad, and making you feel content by his contagious smile. All part of his plan that'll eventually end with you two happily engaged.
Even if that strategy didn't work, he'd just whine and beg. He knew you couldn't take it. You would glare at him, and he'd feel a strange sensation through his body. Sometimes, he wondered how being hit by you would feel like. Or maybe with your hand wrapped around his throat.
Given how much he bothered you, it was a miracle you were still friends with him. It wasn't all that bad. You somehow had fun hanging around with him, laughing at his silly jokes. He'd take you to so many places. Always making sure you were enjoying your time so you'd come back for more!
When you weren't in public, he'd get clingy. It was obvious he was touch-starved and a big attention seeker. He wanted to have you touch him, get close to him, and pay attention to him. Only him.
"I can't get this stupid button undone... Can you help me take this shirt off? Come onnn, it's way too hot in this room..."
"Look how good I smell. Come on, sniff my neck. It's a new thing I bought. It smells like your favorite!"
"I'm so hungry, and my hands are all tired. Ughh.. Can you feed me a snack? I'll open my mouth wide for you. Aaah~"
He'd still bug you about the kiss. Not ever talking about the incident afterwards. Those few months of reinforcement should've made you softer to him. He should've been able to get you to agree. But you stayed determined to deny him.
"I want a kiss already... Why can't you, my bestest friend, show me how it feels~? All of these movies have one. I'm being reminded of how much of a loser I am every single day." He grumpily said to himself as you both watched a weird horror movie. The scared couple on the screen made out to relieve their stress... or something. It was a strange movie he (purposely) picked.
"Can't you fucking understand?! It'll change this whole relationship. I told you that a million times." You crossed your arms, darting your gaze from the movie to him.
He sighed. You sighed. Then you exchanged a look. "Alright. Fine. You're not gonna stop asking, are you? Just promise me you won't act all awkward after it."
He lit up, nodding eagerly. "Really?! Oh, wow! Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're the best! Seriously. A life saver~"
"Shut it." You groaned, watching the last bits of the movie with the characters escaping.
"Yes, ma'am. You got it." He climbed on your lap. That made you stiff a bit, looking at him with a confused look. He set his legs on your sides, his arms wrapping around your neck. "How is this gonna work? Can you please do it very slowly?"
"Eh...? Okay. Whenever you're ready." You wrapped your arm around his waist, not knowing what else to do with them. He hummed happily. His face came closer to you, and somehow, you felt nervous. You shrugged it off, letting him kiss you at his own pace.
"Here I go..." he whispered, his nose rubbing against yours.
He pressed a small peck on your lips as if to test out how it feels. Before you could correct him, he kissed you again. This time longer and harder. You squeaked at the suddenness, forced to lean back against the couch as he began to lick your lips, asking for entry.
You reluctantly opened your mouth, and he wasted no time. Pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Lapping at anything he could find. Your tongue brushed against each other, eliciting a moan from him. His hand held the back of your head to keep you from pulling away. Shifting a bit on your lap, whimpering against your lips.
He kept licking your tongue, sucking on it. He moaned again when you finally returned the kiss. His movements were clumsy, making it easier for you to take control. After a minute, he pulled away, panting as he buried his face into your neck. He seemed embarrassed, and so you hugged his waist tighter.
He moaned against your neck. "Ah.. that felt so nice. Mmh, shit..."
"Yeah... you got a little ahead of yourself, y'know. It was supposed to be a simple kiss. I never said tongue was allowed." You pointed out. Rolling your eyes, because you knew he didn't care.
"You never said it wasn't." He sat up to look you, tilting his head innocently. "I would've listened to you if you said it."
"No, you wouldn't have." You mumbled.
"You also didn't say I can't go for another one~!" He leaned in again and captured your lips in another kiss. You protested, hands gripping his shoulders now to push him away. He whined, sucking your lips as if that would change your mind. "But, please, just one more. I still haven't learned the proper technique yet."
You were beginning to understand that he had a different reason for overstepping boundaries. The way he kissed you, the way he tried to savor your taste, the way his pressed his body against yourself. It was like he was trying to devour you. Trying to be one with you.
He moaned loudly when he pulled away. His body was shaking a bit, his eyes dilating. Something pressed against your stomach. You didn't need to look down to see what it was. "Um... Oops?"
#desperate yandere#obsessive love#yanblr#yandere#yandere oc#pathetic men#pathetic yandere#yandere boy#sub yandere#male yandere#male yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere x you#loser yandere
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Bounty Hunting The Wrong Guy [NSFW]
characters: sylus x reader
warnings: 18+, smut, age gap (reader is 21 here), bounty hunter mc, it takes a while to get to the smut part, nipple teasing, punishment, swearing, fingering, clit teasing, piv (penetration), wrists bound (by evol), no protection, bratty reader (sort of)
-----
You let out a satisfied sigh when you plopped your body onto the wooden chair placed conveniently next to a table full of different weapons and devices you probably will have no need on using at the moment, staring at the unconcious white haired man in front of you that was tied down onto the other wooden chair in the room.
Without wasting a second, you stretched your right leg out to get a better grip onto the phone that was in your pocket, giving it a few taps to call a certain someone about your lucky find.
A few rings passed by and the person on the other end finally answers, you didn't waste a second to let them know that your end of the job was done and that you were ready to receive your pay, and next order.
"Hello?"
"Heyyy!! If it isn't my favorite-"
"Cut to the chase. You got the man or not?"
You let out another sigh, this time annoyed. No matter how good your mood is it'll always get ruined by something, or in this case, someone.
"Yeah yeah, your man's right here with me" You rolled your eyes, checking your nails to see if you had made any damage on them while trying to capture your target from earlier.
"Send proof"
You immediately brought the phone away from your hand to switch it into camera mode while the call was still on, taking a quick picture of the tall, muscular man with white hair and black clothes on, before clicking open an app to send the picture to the person on the other side.
"There. Jerk off to it." You muttered before putting the phone back to your ear, hearing only silence for a little bit.
The silence followed up with a few mumbles, it seems like there were other people other than the person who paid you to catch this person, and it looks like they had an issue with the image you sent them.
"...That's not him"
The other end spoke, and your eyebrows furrowed immediately. Not realizing you had uncrossed your legs as you leaned forward in disbelief.
"What do you mean? He perfectly fits the description you said. Tall, white hair, and can fight. He put up a great fight and he has white hair. With a vague description like that I have to earn something in return for being able to catch something like this!"
You raised your voice, but the person wasn't buying it. How were you even supposed to find a man when he wears a mask all the time?
"We asked you to find Lumiere, not the Leader of- Ah forget it. This never happened"
Your mouth dropped in disbelief. Instinctively your legs forced your body to jump right up, now you were pacing around the room with your hand to your head, you seriously fucked up this time.
And to add the fact that they mentioned, what? A leader? A leader of what exactly? Well it probably doesn't even matter since you were currently at N109 Zone. Everything here is dangerous and oh boy...
If you had caught the Leader of Onychinus that lives here at N109 Zone... No. There's no way you'd have easily caught him.
"Wait, wait! I'll do it again, I'll toss this guy on the streets and get you the guy you want okay! If you could just find more intel on him-" You desperately tried to reason with them, but it didn't matter, their mind was set.
"The deal is off, girl. Whatever you do with the guy you have there is not our business. Goodbye"
Before you could talk them out of it any further, they hung up on you. However you were stubborn and you sent them a few texts, but it seemed like they had already blocked you.
"Fuck!" You cussed. Throwing your phone onto the worn out couch that was on the other end of the room. Usually you were very good at what you do, but it seems like making a few mistakes could happen as well.
The entire time you were freaking out and pacing around your room thinking of what to do next, you didn't realize that the man you had handcuffed onto the chair had been awake the moment you called your client.
He was kind enough to listen to what your true intentions were before he made a move on you, so when it was clear that you got the wrong man, he let you have your moment of distress before he decided to do anything else.
You didn't have the energy to drag the heavy man all the way out at the moment. Right now you needed a drink, a strong one at that. You'll deal with this man on another day, but not today.
Just when you were about to open the doors leading to another room, you found yourself struggling to create a gap on the two gigantic thick pieces of wood. A frown stronger than before engulfs your face as you tsked.
"What the-"
You were cut off when you heard a click behind you. Without wasting a second you turned your head to face the white haired man that was supposed to be unconcious on the chair, but instead you found him standing right in front of you.
Before you could lift your hand to attack him, he had your hands pinned onto the door with a dark red mist, almost resembling the color of blood, you were going to use your legs next, but they were also useless as they remained stuck.
"Shit!" You cussed under your breath, things were starting to get really dangerous. But you tried to remain calm, since you always knew how to get yourself out of situations like these.
"Wrong guy, huh?" The white haired man raised his eyebrow at you. His hands shoved into his pockets as he looked down to meet his eyes with yours, you felt mocked. But you weren't gonna give in.
"Heh yeah... Bummer"
You awkwardly laughed, trying to find a way to escape. Eyes darting around the room to find something that would help. But your search was futile when his hand grabbed your face and turned it to face him, your wide eyes locked in with his crimson ones.
"There's no use finding an escape, kitten. You're stuck here with me until I decide to let you go" His deep yet dominating voice calmly said, the sudden nickname he gave you made you furrow your eyebrows.
"Until you decide to let me go? Oh hell nah"
You shook your head to release the grip on your face, you were planning on acting like a small fry and crawl your way out, but something about being looked down on bothered you, and you just had to say something about it.
"Listen man, I don't know who you are, but I admit this whole thing was my fault, okay? If you need something to compensate for whatever loss you had I'll give it, just name your price"
In a strong yet calm manner, you bribed the man in front of you in an attempt to free yourself, but once again, like deja vu, he wasn't buying it.
"I don't think so"
You heard him answer before your entire vision is covered in red and black, few feathers can be seen swishing around before the dirty and worn out room you were at was replaced with an extravagant one with a dark aesthetic. A bedroom to be exact.
Your eyes widened in shock, frantically letting your head move left and right in disbelief. Did you just teleport?
"What the hell..." You whispered, not releasing that your hands were bound behind you now.
You had no idea that evols could teleport, or maybe that was this guy's whole shtick, either way, right now wasn't the time to be impressed.
Before you could ask why you were brought into a bedroom, a large hand wrapped itself around your left arm and pulled you toward the bed, gently yet strong enough to toss you onto the bed, the sudden gesture made you immediately go to defense mode.
"Hey man what gives-" You yelled, but the moment you turned your head you were an inch away from the white haired man's face.
You didn't realize this before because of how stressed out you were but, he was very attractive.
"A little kitten decided to pull me out from a very important meeting, I would just give that kitten a little flick on the forehead and be on my way, but to know that I wasn't even the kitten's main target is a bit annoying"
He said, each word he spoke made you feel his hot breath on your lips, but you had to stay focused and get out.
"W-Why's that?" You slightly furrowed your eyebrows once more, trying to mask your awareness with an innocent confused look.
"Because I can't kill it without a reason" He concluded. The red gleam in his eyes made you shudder, the bloodlust was there alright.
You still didn't know who this man was, however. So as if the threat didn't happen, you audaciously decided to open your mouth to ask.
"By the way, who even are you?"
You had no idea your tone was so mocking as to how curious you were, you watched as the man had a lost expression on his face, it didn't show shock, but he was definitely taken back by your question.
"...How old are you?" He answered back with a question completely irrelevant to yours, but you answered him anways.
"21, why?" You watched him scoff.
"The way you behave is like a child" You weren't exactly phased by his words, cause you were too busy figuring out how to release yourself from the evol that was holding you in place.
Your silence hinted the man that your focus was on something else, and that bothered him. So to grab your attention he sat himself of the bed and lifted you up, now you were suddenly sitting on his lap, back facing him.
"Woah!" You exclaimed, out of everything you thought of you weren't expecting him to lift you up like nothing and have you sat on his lap.
Oh, it kinda feels comfy...
You thought, snapping yourself out of it when you remembered the situation you were in.
No wait! I gotta lock in!
"H-Hey what are you doing, man!?" You yelled, turning your head to eye the intimidating man who smirked at you.
"You don't think you can just leave after putting me in such a sorry state without compensation, do you?"
Your eyes widened at his words, suddenly a shiver ran down your spine. It seemed like the fear hasn't kicked in until now. In response to his question that wasn't particularly seeking a response, you gulped.
"I-I told you I'll do something as an apology earlier..." You said in a quiet tone, almost mumbling, but still audible.
"I rather not wait. I'm not a patient man"
You felt his large hands wrap itself around your torso, holding you still as you felt something hard poke your ass. You stared into the distance with wide eyes, almost like you were in daze before unconciously muttering the words-
"What the fuck"
"It looks like compensation won't be the only thing I need to gain tonight, but also a lesson for that mouth of yours" He whispered into your ear, you felt your face heating up from the sudden intimacy.
You didn't want to admit it, but you were excited.
You remained silent, waiting to see what his next move was. You were too busy suppressing how you felt to notice his hands moving under your clothes to feel your bare skin, until you felt his cold fingertips. Making you flinch and your breath hitch.
"Sylus..." He whispered.
"...What?"
"I'm Sylus"
You felt your face crumble in shock. Suddenly freezing before struggling to look back at the man slowly. You heard about him so many times before ever since you came to N109 Zone. There's even posters about him throwing in high prices if he was captured.
It was stupid that your client didn't accepted Sylus, because he was probably worth more than Lumiere. But even if they did wanted Sylus, you'd probably still end up in the same situation as you are now.
"...Fuck" Like a machine that reacts through cuss words, you swore under your breath. Watching the man himself, Sylus tilt his head at you with a raised eyebrow.
"...Fine, make it quick" You concluded. You decided to get over with whatever he wanted. Knowing that running away was futile now that you knew who he was. Totally not because you wanted to spend some time with the attractive older male.
"...I like your confidence" He smirked, his hands now actively trailing upward to lift your bra upwards under your clothes, his fingers brushing against your nipples, the unexpected gesture made you close your eyes on instinct, biting your lower lip.
You felt his fingers circle around your areolas, you could tell he was playing with you, and with the pride you had that bothered you. But you can't help but stay quiet and let him touch you the way he pleased, something about his touch was making you lose all reason.
Not realizing that you were squirming the entire time, you heard him groan behind you as you unconciously wanted to feel his clothed dick on your swollen clit, being the one in control, he noticed your needs.
"Don't move, or else I'll be getting more than a compensation from you" He warned.
"Tsk! Then hurry up, old man!" You groaned impatiently, face red from having your nipples touched bare by someone else other than you.
You didn't realize that your words would cost you when his right hand suddenly went from your breast to slipping down your pants in one swift move, making you attempt to move away from his hand like an idiot.
"W-What are you-?!"
"You want me to hurry up right? Then I will do just that" He said calmly, rubbing your clothed cunt to feel your juices soak your underwear. It felt uncomfortable and dirty, yet you can't help but shiver in excitement.
Sylus used his fingers to rub around your clit too. Letting the wetness rub against it so that teasing you would affect you more than it should, also to rile up my reactions from you.
You huffed when you felt him playing with your nipple with one hand, and the other rubbing on your clothed pussy. It felt good, but it wasn't enough, you were starting to wonder what kind of compensation Onychinus' Leader was even looking for at this point.
"S-Shit" You groaned, feeling impatient of having your body played around with no sight of release soon.
"Swearing again? You really are looking for some sort of punishment" It seemed like Sylus didn't like your sharp mouth, so he decided to give you something to learn to not do it again.
You had to hold back a whine when he suddenly removed his hand from your throbbing cunt, only to put it back in again, this time directly without having your underwear act as a barrier.
The bare feeling of his fingers on your wet clit made you roll your eyes back in satisfaction, finally getting the stimulation you've been eagerly wanting the entire time.
"Mmph! A-Ah there!"
You shamelessly moaned, thrusting your hips against his fingers to feel them rub against your small and swollen clit, just a few strokes and you'll finally get the release you've been wanting.
"So naughty" Sylus whispered into your ear, connecting his lips onto your neck and giving it a suck, letting his teeth add onto the friction to distract you from the pleasure you were getting from your cunt and nipple.
"I wanna cum!! H-Hurry up!!" You demanded, although Sylus found your tough personality endearing, he won't stand for being ordered around by someone as small as you.
"And what makes you think you deserve release so early? You need to learn your place, sweetie" His voice deepened as he warned, your eyes widened when his finger suddenly dragged itself down to your hole.
Before you could react, he already pushed one finger in, like he knew you already, his finger found it's way onto your sweet spot. You had to let out a gasp before moaning nonstop, feeling his finger continuously poke onto the same spot until your orgasm neared.
"N-No- Wait! P-Pleas- A-Ah!"
You threw your head back when he added another finger, tears forming in your eyes that you never thought would be from the pleasure you were getting, the orgasm you were going to have was being forced out of you without a second thought, you almost lost yourself in what the main goal was.
Right when you felt like you were inching towards cumming, Sylus removed his fingers from your hole that was now clenching around the air, hoping for something to substitute the painful arousal that was pooling out of it.
"Ah ah ah, bad kittens don't get their fill yet" He teased, you felt your vision turning foggy from the desperation creeping onto you. You almost forgot your hands were rendered useless at the moment because you still weren't free.
"C-Come on..." You whispered, almost in defeat. Your voice hinting a strong sense of desperation, almost making you sound cute.
"Don't worry, I'm not done yet"
Sylus reassured you, using his evol to pull your pants down along with your underwear, the action didn't make you notice he had lowered his own pants as well, releasing his hard veiny cock that was almost as large as a shampoo bottle.
"If you take this, then I'll accept your compensation and let you go" He rubbed his cock against your entrance, you couldn't see his length properly, but a few rubs and a very visible vein was enough to give you a shock.
"W-Wait that's way too big, I-I can't-"
"You can and you will. Or do you want to compensate me with your life?" He said, he wasn't serious. But how would you know? You're too drunk off your mind to think.
"..." You pressed your lips into a thin line, shutting yourself up from protesting any further.
"Good girl"
Sylus gently laid you down on the bed, your hands that were bound behind you now in front, as well as you having a better look of his cock. It was big enough to reach his belly button, and that intimidated you greatly, yet you couldn't wait to find out what it was like to have your gushing hole get plugged by it.
"Don't struggle" Was all the white haired man said before he started teasing his tip onto your hole, slowly pushing himself in as he watched your juices gush out of your hole to make room for his cock.
"A-AH! T-Too much!!" You whined, but Sylus believed you were stronger than that.
"I'm not even halfway in. But if it's too much for you i'll stop. Though I expected a bounty hunter to be more tougher than this" He mocked, watching your face glare at him.
"B-Bring it on, old man!! I'm no pussy!" You retorted, to which he chuckled at you.
"Good to hear"
He gave another push into your hole, you were sure with this one he was definitely more than halfway in. The feeling of his cock stretching into you while pushing onto your cervix made you cry in a manner you would have never thought you could do.
"O-Oh fuck!!" You exclaimed, having tears well up in your eyes again.
"Tsk, that mouth needs more than a lesson" Sylus tsked, before grabbing your face to kiss him, with no warning he had his tongue distracting you from the mix of pain and pleasure you were receiving.
His kiss was rough, yet so comforting. He made sure not an inch of your mouth was neglected before he started thrusting in and out of you.
You couldn't help but moan into his mouth with your eyes rolled back, right away with a few thrusts you could feel your orgasm that was denied earlier finding it's way back, and it was dangerously close too.
"M-Mmphh!!" You started becoming more aware of the smooching noises and squelches your mouth and hole was making, but everytime you tried to listen you'd be distracted by the loud slaps of Sylus' cock onto your pussy continuously.
Each time he hits the right spots you can't help but keep your eyes hung at the roof of your head, crying into the hungry kisses Sylus gave you to make your hole clamp down his dick.
Before you could even realize it, your orgasm finally arrived. Leaving you a moaning mess crying from stimulation. Also letting Sylus finally break the kiss between you two to relieve himself.
"A-Almost there" Sylus muttered in gritted teeth, not stopping for a second to chase his own ejaculation into your cunt while you helplessly laid on the bed, taking in his length continuously with every broken moan that left your mouth.
In a groan, Sylus let himself cum into your gushing wet hole that soaked the bedsheets, giving your forehead a small kiss before finally releasing your wrists and pulling out if you to let his cum spill out your twitching hole.
You could leave right now, but after having your hole destroyed and throbbing, you couldn't even sit up if you wanted to. The white haired man that was now lying beside you knew it all too well.
"Am I... *huff* ...free from... *pant*... compensating... ah.... you now...?" You said in between pants, your voice cracking from how hard you cried, your little attempt to speak made Sylus smile at you, hand on his head as he stared at you like he adored you.
"Hmm... No"
Your mouth dropped in disbelief, snapping your neck to look at the smirking white haired man.
"Perhaps I need to be compensated a few more times, only once isn't enough"
He wrapped his arms to hold you close to him, now your eyes were locked onto his chest, as he rested his chin onto your head while you remained speechless.
It looks like you got yourself in real big trouble with the one man you tried to avoid the entire time bounty hunting...
Onychinus' Leader Sylus.
-----
A/N: GUESS WHO CAME BACK W A NEW SMUT ONESHOT? thats right, i know i usually only do WUWA smut but i did mention I play LADS and oml... SYLUS...
PLEASE PUT ME ON A CHOKEHOLD SIR I AM YOURSSSS
ZAYNE PLEASE DON'T MISUNDERSTAND I LOVE YOU OKAY 😭😭😭
anyways enjoy your meals ✨️✨️✨️😋
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#lads#lads sylus#sylus#sylus love and deepspace#l&ds#l&ds sylus#l&ds smut#lads smut#love and deepspace smut#sylus smut#sylus x reader#sylus x you#noveauskull
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Please, Don't Prove 'Em Right - A.H
a/n: my girl sabrina can do no wrong and i have been listening to this song on repeat since it came out so i just absolutely needed to write a fic about it
masterlist
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: aaron hotchner is a busy man and he tends to disappoint you by missing important events
warnings: angst (sorry in advance), aaron is like not a great husband, reader is also an imperfect character, reader is a girl boss though
wc: 1.2k
You were in your best dress. More expensive than you'd ever think about buying for yourself, but it had been a gift from Aaron. You had fought him on it, scolding him for spending so much on a dress you were sure to only wear once. But he had insisted, telling you that this opportunity was once in a lifetime and that it would be a sin for it to not be celebrated with a dress that made you shine like a ruby.
He was right, partly, you were shining--glowing, sparkling, glittering--as you moved through the library. It was beautiful, to say the least--all opulence and history that was almost too much to absorb. The marble floors almost seemed to amplify the conversations around you, the clinking of glasses, the swish of overpriced gowns and tuxedos.
Your eyes settled on the tiered desks fitted with bronze reading lamps, now repurposed as a station for hors d'oeuvres and champagne. The circular arrangement of desks, once centered around knowledge, now facilitated hushed gossip and the discreet laughter of society's finest.
You could almost hear what they were thinking: there she is again without her husband, that poor thing always by herself, and your personal favorite—does he even exist?
You wanted to be angry, to scold their prying eyes, for putting their noses into something that had nothing to do with them whatsoever. But could you really blame them? Every event you attended you told the same story--my husband is a busy man with an important job--a line you had grown tired of repeating.
And that was all true. He devoted most of his time to saving lives--how could you find fault in that? How could you complain to having a husband whose very essence was self-sacrifice and heroism?
This evening was set to be an exception; he was in New York for a case, and the Pulitzer Prize ceremony was not something he would miss. He had given you his word.
You understood his passion for his job, completely, because you held that same passion for your own. You dedicated years of your life to your journalism, investigating corruption at its highest levels. This is exactly how you ended up here tonight, nominated for a Pulitzer Prize for that very work. A Pulitzer Prize.
The term once seemed like a fantastical concept to you, a lofty accolade reserved for the likes of JFK, Bob Dylan, Robert Frost--icons, not someone as ordinary as you. Yet, against all odds, you find yourself among the select few, a nominee for an honor that has only been won by 1,512 individuals since 1917, a fact Spencer had supplied you with.
Someone was speaking to you, saying your name. Almost without thinking, your hand found a flute of champagne, taking a generous sip before turning to face them.
"You look stunning, and a well-deserved congratulations are in order. Everyone back at the office is cheering for you." It was your boss, her stilettos adding inches to her already imposing frame.
The flattery didn't quite mask her usual coldness, it was all too artificial. She wasn't your biggest fan, and she had made that clear from your first day. Still, you mustered a smile and thanked her anyway, taking another sip of champagne, hoping to drown away her nauseating voice.
"It's too bad your husband couldn't be here," she began, and you had to resist the urge to rip out her extensions. "This is an incredible accomplishment, but he's quite the busy man, as you say."
"Yes, he is busy, but he'll be here tonight," you replied, flashing her your best smile as you smoothed the red fabric that suddenly felt too tight. "He's actually here in New York on a case."
"Oh, how great. I can't wait to put a face to the name." You could tell by the look she shot her own husband that she didn't believe a word from your mouth. "Anyway, I have to go speak with an academy representative, but I'll see you and your husband at the ceremony?"
You responded with a nod, not dignifying her with words as she left, her giggles a bitter sound. You hated her. And you were ready to make her eat her words when your husband, who looked absolutely incredibly in a suit, showed up.
But then it was dinner, and you found yourself alone, surrounded by a table of important people whose names you couldn't remember. The seat beside you was empty and suddenly that omnipotent, cloud-nine feeling you had vanished with the time that passed.
The text you sent piled up, feeling a little juvenile, like you were back in high school again getting stood up at prom.
Let me know when you're close!
Is everything going okay?
Call me if you can.
An onslaught of anxious thoughts skyrocketed around your mind as you mechanically chewed the fancy food that only seemed to upset your stomach further. What if something happened? Was he okay? Did the case go wrong? Did he get in a car accident on the way here?
You were a bundle of nerves, gnawing on the inside of your mouth as your heel tapped up and down against the floor. But this wasn't borne from concern for his well-being; deep down, you were certain he was fine. The truth was simpler and sharper: he wasn't coming.
You should have been prepared, should have braced for this, but you were convinced that this time, this occasion would be an exception.
You name was being called, but this time not by someone wanting to extract prying information or stir speculation, no, this time it was carried across the crowed, wrapped in the microphone's static hum.
Your head snapped up, fingers ceasing their fidgeting as you struggled to mask the shock and avoid the gaping, breathless look of a fish out of water.
You had won.
People were clapped, but it seemed far away as you made your way to the stage, hands coming from all directions to offer pats on the back and handshakes of congratulations.
You had won.
Your feet were carrying you up a small set of stairs. You were trying to remember how to walk--left, right, heel, toe. There was a bright light on you now, prompting a slight squint and you worked to keep a smile on your face as you accepted the award.
You had to be dreaming. Had to be. There was no other explanation.
You were on display now, under the intense stage lights. Your body was on autopilot, stepping behind the podium, words flowing out of your mouth--a speech you had rehearsed over and over again in the slim chance that you would win. And here you are.
But the more you spoke the more you seemed to deviate from the script.
You paused, voice catching as you tried your best not to let the tears fall--your makeup was too pristine for smears.
"But tonight, as I accept this honor, I am reminded that while we may seek comfort in the presence of others, our truest strength comes from within." Your eyes dart around the audience, clinging to the slim chance he's there, that he showed up. "It comes from knowing that when we step into the moment, we step in with conviction, with passion, and sometimes, with a singularity that says we are enough."
The final words of your speech hang in the air, a brittle hope that disappears as quickly as it surfaced. He proved them right, and no amount of applause can drown out the sound of your heart breaking just a little.
part 2
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179
#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotchner x fem reader#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds angst#aaron hotchner#hotch#hotchner#Spotify
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
House of cards. || l.hc + n.jm
“You want to make quick cash, I have a way.”
♤ now playing- house of cards: bts
♤ Jaemin and Haechan x fem!reader (ft. seven dream)
♤ genre/warnings: smut with plot, angst. college au implied, but also illegal activity au, 18+ mdni!, dom!jaemin, vanilla!haechan, slight threesome, multiple sex scenes, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (don’t do.), breeding/creampie, marking, praise, degrading, pet names, fingering, hair pulling, Jaemin is really manipulative and possessive, betrayal, mention of a gun once or twice.
♤ W/c- 21k
a/n- this is my longest fic. I actually love this, lmk what u think!
"You're late." A voice hummed beside you as you took a seat, out of breath.
"I know," you panted, setting your bag on the desk and wiping the sweat from your forehead. "I ran here, and I'm still late."
"Don't worry. You didn't miss much." He chuckled softly, his fingers already typing on his laptop. A moment later, you heard the ding of an email notification. "I sent you the notes you missed, you're covered."
"Thanks Haechan, you're the best." You said with a grin as you opened your laptop, his gesture warming your chest.
The lecture moved quickly, and by the end you had managed to catch up on everything you missed. Packing your bag, you were ready to get out of there when a light tap on your shoulder stopped you in your tracks.
"Hm?" You asked, turning to face him.
"Did you forget we planned to grab lunch today?" He asked, tilting his head with a soft smile.
"Oh shit Haechan. I completely forgot. I've just got so much work today." You admitted, guilt already creeping into your tone.
"That's okay," he replied, his smile not falling. "We can work together after lunch, if that's cool?"
You hesitated, but his demeanor made it so hard to say no. "Yeah, that sounds good Haechan."
"Great!" He cheered, standing and slinging his bag over his shoulder.
As you walked together to your favorite lunch spot, you found yourself noticing small details: the way his laugh carried in the air, the soft way his arm brushed yours, the golden hue of sunlight bouncing off the sidewalk. You wondered how many times you'd walked this same path, but never really seen it.
The line wasn't too long, and Haechan squinted at the menu, breaking the silence. "Hmm, the pesto sandwich sounds good. I might have to try it."
You nodded, glancing at the menu. "Yeah, that does sound good."
"What about you? Should we both get it?" He asked, his eyes lighting up with the suggestion.
"Oh, I'll probably just get some coffee or something." You replied nonchalantly, shifting your focus elsewhere.
"Just coffee?" He turned to you, his brows knitting together in concern. "Are you not hungry?"
"I mean, I am, but I have stuff at home. I'll be fine." You said, brushing off his concern.
"Y/n." He said, his tone shifting to something softer. "If you're hungry, you need to eat, plus, I really want to try the pesto sandwich with you. Come on—get one. I'll grab your usual coffee too."
"No Haechan, it's okay...I swear. Don't worry about it. Just get your own stuff—I've got mine." You shook your head, trying to keep your voice light.
He tilted his head at you, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes that he always has when he convinces you. "But I want to try the pesto with you and if you're not going to buy it, who's going to?"
You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off.
"Exactly." He smiled.
"Just go grab a table, okay? I insist... please?" His voice softened, the sparkle in his eyes making it impossible to argue.
You sighed in defeat, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Fine, but this is the last time, okay?"
"Sure, sure." He said breezily, already turning toward the counter.
As you walked to your table, you couldn't help but reflect on his kindness. It wasn't just this—Haechan always had your back, always knew how to make you feel cared for even when you didn't want to accept help.
He returned a few minutes later, balancing a tray with the sandwiches and your coffee. "Special delivery." He said, setting it down with a grin.
"Thanks Haechan."
"Okay, let's dive in." He said, holding up half of his sandwich toward you like a toast.
You giggled, clinking your sandwich half against his. "Let's dive in."
You both ate quietly at first, comfortable silence filling the air as you both ate, but something in the moment stirred an ache in your chest, and you found yourself speaking before you could stop.
"Haechan." You said softly, your voice carrying a hint of sorrow.
"Hm?" He hummed, looking up from his food.
"I just... I want to thank you for always having my back— for everything. It really means a lot to me."
His expression softened, and he rubbed at his mouth with a napkin before responding. "Y/n, there's no need to thank me. I care about you, and I'll always be here for you no matter what."
The sincerity in his voice made you pause, and for a moment, you just looked at him, taking in the way his eyes seemed to shine in the sunlight.
"Haechan... I need to tell you something." You said, your tone shifting to something more serious.
His smile dropped slightly, replaced with a hint of nervousness. "What's up?"
"I'm going back home," you said quietly. "For good."
The words hung in the air, and you watched as his face fell.
"What? How are you going to...? Wait, are you dropping out?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.
You nodded. "Yeah. I'll figure something out when I get home."
"But you don't have a plan yet?" He pressed, desperation creeping into his voice. "Stay a little longer, you can figure it out here."
"Haechan, me not having a plan back home is still more stable than being here." You said, your voice cracking slightly.
"But you're working so hard. We only have one year left. You can do it—I know you can." His voice was full of belief, but there was a sadness there too, like he knew he couldn't do anything to persuade you.
"Haechan... your belief doesn't pay the bills. I work two jobs, and I'm still a full time student— i'm exhausted. I can't do it anymore." You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
His leg bounced under the table, and he bit his lip before finally nodding. "Yeah, no, I get it. I really do." He lifted his head, forcing a small smile. "I just hope we stay in touch. I'll always be here to support you, ok?"
"Of course. We're still going to be friends Haechan. Nothing's going to change that, I promise."
He nodded quietly, packing up his things and gathering the trash. "I should get going, I know you have work to do."
"But I thought we were going to work together?" You asked, confused.
"Yeah, I know, but I don't want to distract you." He said, his voice soft but distant.
You frowned. "Haechan, I'm sorry if I upset you..."
"You didn't," he said quickly, his smile hesitant. "I get it, really. I'll talk to you later, ok?"
"Ok. Bye Haechan." You said, watching as he walked away. ══════════════════════════ You sat on your bed, lost in thought, the weight of your decision pressing down on your chest. The faint glow of your phone screen caught your attention as a notification popped up.
“Hey, can we talk?”
Your brows furrowed as you typed back quickly.
“Yeah, sure. Do you wanna call?”
The response came almost immediately.
“No. I want to talk in person.”
A flicker of concern passed through you. Haechan wasn't usually this abrupt.
“Oh, okay. Where do you want to meet?”
“I'll pick you up. Be there in 15.”
Your stomach twisted as you stared at the screen. Something about the way he phrased it felt off, but you pushed the feeling aside.
“Ok!”
You threw on a jacket, glancing at yourself in the mirror. What could he possibly want to talk about that couldn't wait? The thought clawed at you as you slipped outside, waiting on the curb.
The low hum of an engine pulled your attention, and a sleet jet-black BMW rolled up to the curb. Its tinted windows blended seamlessly into the darkness, making it look more like a shadow than a car. The door unlocked with a soft click, and you climbed in, greeted by the faint scent of leather and cologne.
Haechan glanced over at you, his expression unreadable as he reached over to check that your seatbelt was fastened. He didn't say much, just nodding before pulling back onto the street.
"Where are we going?" You asked, your voice cutting through the low hum of the engine.
"Just on a drive, if that's okay with you." He replied, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he maneuvered through the quiet streets. Something about his demeanor—his silence, the sharpness in his posture made the air heavier.
"Yeah, that's fine." You said slowly, trying to see where his mood was at. "What's up? What did you need to talk about?"
He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was weighing his words carefully. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "I have a way you can stay here."
Your chest tightened. "Haechan, I already told you I can't—"
"Just listen." He cut you off sharply. His tone wasn't angry, but the sudden edge in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.
You swallowed hard, nodding. "Ok. What is it?"
"It's risky as hell," He admitted, his grip on the wheel tightening, "but it'll make you a lot of money. More than enough to pay for your tuition and bills."
Your stomach turned. "What kind of 'risky' are we talking about?"
He hesitated again. "I can't tell you too much."
Your brows knitted together as unease crept up your spine. "This sounds very... illegal." You said, trying to add a bit of humor to ease the tension, but the way his jaw clenched at the word made your pulse quicken.
"Would you do it if it was illegal?" He asked, his tone half joking, half dead serious.
"I'm not becoming a prostitute, if that's what you're implying." You joked, your nervous laugh filling the silence.
That earned a small chuckle from him, though it was short. "No, it's not that."
"Well, can you at least tell me more?" You pressed, your voice full with both curiosity and concern.
"I can't." He said firmly, his eyes flicking toward you for a brief moment before returning to the road. "It's something I have to show you. Look—if you're not comfortable, you can back out anytime, but I do it, and... well, look at what you're sitting in right now." He gestured briefly to the interior of the car, the soft leather seats and pristine dashboard. "It's not as bad as you think."
Your heart was pounding now, the weight of his words sinking in. "Haechan, you're scaring me. Seriously."
He exhaled sharply, his grip on the wheel loosening slightly. "If you're scared, then this isn't the right job for you." He said, his voice softer, but still firm.
You bit your lip, your hands clenching in your lap. "But I want to stay," you said, your voice shaky. "I want to try."
He glanced at you again, his expression unreadable. "So, you're down? Like I said, you can back out if you don't want to."
You nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yeah... I'm down."
He pulled up in front of your apartment building, the car slowing as he turned to look at you. "Alright. Let's talk about this more over lunch tomorrow, yeah?"
"Yeah." You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "Sounds like a plan."
You stepped out of the car, your legs shaky as you walked back to your apartment, the hum of the car fading into the night as Haechan drove off. ══════════════════════════ The next day, you sat at the small café table, your leg bouncing anxiously. The cup of coffee in front of you was untouched, growing colder by the minute as you waited.
Finally, you spotted him weaving through the tables. He placed a red gift bag on the table beside him as he slid into the seat across from you.
"Hey Y/n!" He greeted, his tone cheerful.
"Hey." You replied with a small smile, sitting up straighter.
"How were your classes? I know you had some rough ones today." He asked, his voice light and casual, like the two of you hadn't had a tense conversation just the night before.
"They were... ok actually." You said, your smile tightening slightly. "What about you?"
"Pretty chill. You know I only have one class on Thursdays." He said, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed shrug.
"Right..." You nodded, feeling the tension tighten in your chest. The conversation was good, but you couldn't ignore the elephant in the room. "So... are you ready to talk more about, you know?"
The moment the words left your mouth, his demeanor shifted. The brightness in his expression dimmed, replaced by something harder to read. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto yours.
"What if I told you," he began slowly, his voice softer but laced with a teasing edge, "that I didn't have anything to talk about and just wanted an excuse to have you come to lunch with me?"
Your brows lifted slightly, caught off guard by his response. "Then I guess it worked, huh?" You replied, a small smile tugging at your lips.
That seemed to satisfy him, and for a moment, his bright smile returned. "It did." He admitted with a quiet laugh, shaking his head. But then, just as quickly as the lightness had returned, it faded again, and he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "There's not much I can say here." He said, glancing briefly around the café as if to check for eavesdroppers.
Your heart skipped a beat, your palms pressing nervously against your thighs under the table.
"But," he continued, sliding the red gift bag across the table toward you, "I wanted to give you this for tonight. Don't open it until you get home, ok?"
You stared at the bag, your fingers hesitating before brushing against the smooth handles. "What's with you and these cliffhangers?" You asked, trying to keep your tone light even as your mind raced with possibilities.
He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "I guess I just like keeping you on your toes."
Your lips twitched into a nervous smile, your fingers now gripping the bag. He stood up suddenly, smoothing the front of his jacket as he prepared to leave. "I have to go," he said, glancing at his watch. "but I'll pick you up at 9:30 tonight, ok?"
"Ok." You nodded, your voice quieter now as you looked up at him.
He paused, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "Oh, and look your absolute best." He added, his lips curving into a small mischievous smile. "Even though you're pretty good at that already."
You felt a warmth creep up your neck at his words, but before you could respond, he was already turning away.
"See you tonight." He called over his shoulder, raising a hand in a casual wave.
You waved back, watching him walk his way through the café and out the door. The moment he was gone, the tension you'd been holding onto seemed to double. You glanced down at the gift bag sitting innocently on the table, its crimson color popped against the pale wood. ══════════════════════════ You got home and instantly opened the red gift bag, pulling out the contents with a mix of awe and unease. Inside was a beautiful black dress, its fabric soft and luxurious, shimmering faintly under the dim light of your room. You spotted the price tag and your jaw dropped—$300.
Holding the dress up, you sighed and reached for your phone, opening your text with Haechan.
"Haechan I can't accept this."
"Why not?"
"Because it's so expensive. I have black dresses I can wear. I'm giving it back when you pick me up."
"No offense, but those dresses aren't good enough."
"Ouch..."
"Sorry, you should've just accepted it and been quiet..."
"K whatever, bye."
"Bye Y/n. See you tonight."
You sighed again as you locked your phone and set it down on the bed. Your fingers grazed the dress, it was beautiful, but left you feeling conflicted. A nap seemed like the best way to shake the nerves eating away at you, so you curled up under your blanket, your mind buzzing with unanswered questions.
When you woke, the sun had already set. You got up and started getting ready, making yourself look your absolute best, just like he requested. The dress fit perfectly, clinging to you in all the right places. You styled your hair and touched up your makeup until you barely recognized yourself in the mirror.
As you waited by the window, you heard the familiar low rumble of Haechan's car before your phone even buzzed. You grabbed your things and stepped outside, the cold night air brushing against your skin as you walked toward the sleek black BMW parked by the curb.
Haechan stepped out of the driver's seat, and your eyes widened at the sight of him. He was dressed in tailored black pants and a silky black shirt that glinted faintly under the streetlights. His dark hair was styled in a perfect middle part, and his warm, tan skin seemed to glow even in the dark.
"You look gorgeous." He said, smiling as he opened the passenger door for you.
"I could say the same about you." You replied, unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.
He got back into the car, and the two of you drove off. The silence in the car wasn't uncomfortable, but it was heavy, only the faint hum of the radio and the low growl of the engine. Your eyes kept drifting toward Haechan as he drove, his profile sharp and focused, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
"So," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. "I have three rules for you before we get there."
You nodded, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to him.
"Rule one: don't talk to anyone I don't introduce you to or people who aren't customers." His voice was steady, but there was a slight edge to it.
"Ok."
"Rule two: never, ever come to this place without me."
You hesitated but nodded again. "Ok."
"Rule three: never go home with anyone, and I mean anyone. No excuses, no exceptions. Do you understand me? This is very important."
The weight of his words pressed down on you, but you nodded. "Yes, I understand."
"Good." He said, his tone softening slightly, but his gaze remained fixed on the road.
The car pulled into a narrow alley, lined with other luxury cars that gleamed under the dim glow of overhead lights. You glanced nervously at Haechan as he parked and got out, quickly walking to your side to open the door for you.
You stepped out, the sounds of the city muffled in the quiet alley. Haechan guided you toward, what looked like an ordinary convenience store. The bell above the door jingled as you entered, and your stomach twisted with confusion. It was... just a convenience store.
You followed Haechan to the counter, where a small man with a gray beard greeted him warmly. "Haechan! We missed you!"
"Yeah, I've been busy. Glad to be back." Haechan replied with a polite smile.
The man's eyes flicked to you, and his smile grew slightly. "And who's this?"
"A friend." Haechan said, glancing at you before returning his attention to the man.
"Only a friend?" The man teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Why do you always press me like this? She's only a friend." Haechan chuckled, but his tone shifted to something more serious.
The man's expression got serious. "You know how I feel about new customers." He said, his voice low.
Haechan pulled out a stack of cash and slid it across the counter. "Maybe this will change your mind?"
The man raised an eyebrow but pushed the money back. "Keep your money young man. I'll make this exception because she looks like she could make me some money, but don't do it again. Or you're done."
"Yes sir," Haechan said with a respectful nod. "Now, can we go?"
The man grunted, then pressed a button under the counter. A faint click echoed through the room, and a beaded curtain at the back of the store shifted slightly.
Haechan motioned for you to follow him. Your steps were hesitant as you glanced back at the man, who gave you a small smile.
Haechan pushed through the curtain and opened a hidden door, revealing a narrow, dimly lit staircase. He turned to you, his hand reaching for yours. "Come on."
You hesitated, your fingers trembling as they intertwined with his. The air grew colder as you descended, the sound of your heels echoing faintly on the worn steps.
"I don't know Haechan," you whispered. "If this is too much trouble, I can leave. I don't want to get you in trouble."
He stopped abruptly, turning to face you. "We're in." He said firmly. He gestured to the door at the bottom of the stairs. "This is your last chance to turn back. Are you in?"
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. You took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm in."
A small smile tugged at his lips before he turned back and opened the door.
The room beyond was like nothing you'd ever seen—a lavish, red and gold space filled with poker tables, roulette wheels, and slot machines. The crowd was a mix of old and young, all dressed in the finest clothes, their wealth on display in every detail.
"Here we are." Haechan murmured beside you, his voice low and steady.
You couldn't tear your eyes away from the scene. The luxuriousness, the mystery, the faint hum of tension in the air—it was intoxicating.
Goodness, what had you gotten yourself into?
══════════════════════════ Rule #1: don't talk to strangers or people who aren't playing customers.
Haechan led you into the vibrant room, his demeanor cool and collected as if this was second nature to him.
"So, here's a quick rundown of the place." He began, his voice calm but commanding as you trailed closely behind him. "These are the slot machines. You won't be here much because, honestly, people just kind of do whatever here. It's not really our focus."
You nodded, glancing around at the glowing machines that lit up the space. Laughter, cheers, and frustrated groans filled the air as people obsessively pulled levers and pressed buttons.
"These," he continued, leading you past the slot machines to a series of spinning wheels surrounded by a mix of excitement, "are the roulette tables. They're not huge money-makers, but I think you could handle them. People listen to pretty faces."
He smirked, shooting you a sideways glance that made your cheeks flush slightly.
He chuckled and moved on. "Now, these are the Rummikub tables." He explained, gesturing toward a quieter section of the room where small groups of people sat in the game. "This is my personal favorite because I like to play, but it's not where the big money is. You won't really need to be here unless you're playing for fun."
He stopped for a moment, scanning the room before continuing. "And finally, these are the poker and blackjack tables." He said, his tone shifting slightly as he pointed to the most crowded section of the room. The energy here was different—intense and electric. Stacks of cash and high stakes surrounded every table. "This is where we want to be. These tables are our bread and butter. This is where the real money gets made."
You took it all in, your stomach twisting slightly with nerves. "Um, Haechan, not to kill the vibe or anything, but I don't think this is for me." You admitted hesitantly. "I'm terrible at gambling. They'd destroy me out there."
He stopped walking and turned to face you, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "You're not gambling Y/n." He said, his voice patient but firm. "That's not the job."
"Then... what is the job?" You asked, feeling a little more nervous now.
He smiled as he pushed open a heavy red door labeled "EMPLOYEES ONLY." Inside, three men were gathered, each with a distinct aura that made it clear they were used to being in charge of something.
"Haechan! Where've you been?" One of them said, standing up to greet him with a firm handshake.
"Busy, as always." Haechan replied with a grin. "But I'm here now. Got something new to show you." He turned slightly, motioning toward you.
The man looked you up and down with a raised eyebrow. "And who's this?"
"This is Y/n. She's going to be working with us." Haechan explained, his tone casual but confident.
"She's gonna be a money maker, I can tell already." The man said, extending a hand toward you. "I'm Mark. Nice to meet you Y/n."
You shook his hand, offering a polite smile. "Nice to meet you too."
"Hi, I'm Renjun." Said another man seated at a desk covered in monitors displaying security camera feeds. He glanced at you briefly before turning his attention back to the screens. "Wow, you're really pretty." He added, looking at Haechan. "Where'd you find her?"
Haechan rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Mind your business."
"And I'm Jisung." Said a tall guy with a deep voice, walking into the room. "I'm the boss around here."
"Jisung, you are not the boss." Another voice interjected. A sharp looking man sitting in the corner smirked at Jisung. "I'm Chenle. Don't listen to him—he just likes to act important."
You laughed nervously, glancing at Haechan for reassurance.
"Alright, alright." Haechan interrupted, steering the conversation back. "I'm gonna go find the actual boss. Can you guys give Y/n the rundown while I'm gone?"
"Of course." Mark said, gesturing for you to sit down.
As you took a seat, Mark leaned forward. "Ok, so here's how it works. Your job is to keep people here. Talk to them, smile, flirt a little if you need to. Serve drinks, compliment them—basically make them feel like winners so they keep playing. That's it."
"That sounds... easy enough." You said, nodding slowly.
"It is, for the most part." Mark agreed. "But here's the deal—if you cash out less than $500 in tips and earnings by the end of the night, you get a strike. Four strikes, and you're out. Got it?"
"Got it." You replied, trying to sound more confident than you felt.
Haechan returned a few minutes later, his smile reassuring as he asked, "You ready to start Y/n?"
"Yeah, I'm ready." You said, standing up and smoothing down your dress.
He led you back out to the floor, stopping at a busy poker table. "Here's your first table of the night. Just do your thing."
Hours had passed, and while the work had been easier than you expected, it was also exhausting. Smiling endlessly, chatting up customers, and walking back and forth had drained your energy. You were relieved when Haechan finally appeared beside you, leaning in close to whisper.
"Let's go cash you out." He said softly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
You followed him to the office, your feet aching. The room looked the same as before, but the men inside seemed more worn down now, their postures slouched and expressions slightly tired.
Mark perked up when you entered, shooting you a friendly grin. "How was your first night Y/n?"
"It was good." You replied, managing a smile. "Some weirdos, but I can handle it."
Mark chuckled. "Yeah, that's pretty typical. Just remember, we're here to protect you. None of us are gonna let anything happen to you—or any of the other women who work here." He added, his voice kind, but firm.
Jisung chimed in, offering you an encouraging smile. "He's right. We don't tolerate anyone stepping out of line. Now, are you ready for your cash out?"
You nodded eagerly, and Jisung walked over to a machine in the corner, his fingers flying over the buttons.
"Renjun, can I get a head count for her?" Jisung asked without looking up.
Renjun who was still monitoring the cameras, swiveled in his chair to glance at you. "She's got about ten customers." He reported before turning back to the screens.
Jisung pressed one final button, and the machine whirred before spitting out a stack of cash. He counted it quickly, nodding to himself before handing it over to you.
"$7,500." Jisung said impressed. "Not bad for your first night."
Your eyes widened as you accepted the money, the weight of it startling in your hands. "Thank you."
"What?" Chenle exclaimed from across the room. "$7,500 on her first night? That can't be right!"
Haechan laughed, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Just accept that there are people better than you Chenle."
Chenle shot him a disbelieving look, muttering something under his breath, but Haechan ignored him. Instead, he turned to you, his expression softening. "Alright Y/n, can you wait for me at the entrance? I still need to do my cash out and talk to them for a minute."
"Yeah, sure. It was nice meeting you all." You said, waving to the others as you made your way to the door.
"It was nice meeting you too!" Jisung called after you, the rest of them nodding or waving in agreement.
You walked out, heading toward the entrance. As you neared the door, a deep voice stopped you in your tracks.
"Where are you going?"
You turned around, and your breath hitched slightly. The man addressing you was easily the most attractive person you'd seen all night.
"Oh, I was just leaving." You said with a polite smile.
"Why so soon princess?" He asked, stepping closer, his voice low and smooth.
"My friend is leaving, so I'm going with him." You explained.
"Haechan?" He asked, tilting his head.
You nodded. "Yeah, that's him. You know him?"
He smirked. "Yeah, I know him. So... you're dating or something?"
You shook your head quickly. "No, we're just friends, but I came with him, so it's only right to leave with him."
"It's right to stay too." He countered, his voice dripping with charm. "I'd love to have a beautiful woman to look at a little longer."
You laughed softly, the flirty glint in his eyes making your cheeks warm. "Well, I won't stay beautiful if I don't get my beauty sleep. I'll be back, you'll have someone to stare at again."
He slipped five crisp $100 bills into your hand, his fingers brushing yours briefly. "You promise?" He murmured.
"Pinky promise." You replied with a playful smile.
Satisfied, he flashed you one last grin before walking away, leaving you slightly flustered and holding the money. You couldn't stop smiling as you waited for Haechan.
He appeared shortly after his own cash out complete. "Ready to go?"
"Yep." You said, following him out the door. The crisp night air hit your face, refreshing after the stuffy casino atmosphere. You climbed into Haechan's car, unable to contain the excitement bubbling inside you.
"I still can't believe this." You said as he started the engine. "$7,500 Haechan. Are you kidding me? That's so much money!"
Haechan glanced at you, his smile bright. "You did really good. I didn't even make that much tonight."
"Well, technically, I made $8,000." You held up the five $100 bills, laughing. "This random guy gave me this to promise I'd come back. I didn't even do anything!"
Haechan's smile fell slightly. "Wait, didn't I tell you not to talk to strangers?" His tone had shifted, becoming more serious.
Your excitement dimmed just a bit. "Well, he was a customer, obviously, so I didn't think it was a big deal. I didn't want to be rude."
Haechan sighed, his grip tightening on the wheel. "How could you be so sure it was a customer?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right." You said, your voice low with defeat.
He took a deep breath. "Just... be careful. Some of these guys, they'll push boundaries if you let them." He spoke softly, relaxing again.
You nodded, a small wave of unease washing over you. "I'll be more careful next time."
"Good." He said, his easygoing demeanor returned as a small smile painted his face.
You tilted your head in curiosity as you started to think. "So, isn't it just a regular casino? What makes it illegal?"
He chuckled softly, though there was a darker edge to it. "It's a lot more than just gambling Y/n. This place is a money laundering front. No taxes, no oversight. A lot of the cash that comes in is dirty—earned through illegal means. We clean it for them, and we profit off it. Also people can't snitch if we use them to keep playing. Like if someone drinks too much and blows a $1,000,000 check, that's not our fault and they just have to take that L."
You frowned. "That sounds... really shady. What about the people who lose all their money? Doesn't that bother you?"
"They're not innocent." He said, his voice firm. "Most of them are criminals or addicts. They're already hurting themselves or other people. We just benefit from it. That's the business."
His logic made sense, but it didn't sit entirely right with you. "I guess you're right..." You said softly, though a small frown lingered on your face.
Haechan glanced at you, his smile returning. "Don't overthink it. You're just here to make money, not solve the world's problems."
You nodded slowly, leaning back in your seat. "What happens if I don't want to go through with this?"
Haechan's cheerful expression dimmed slightly. He hesitated before answering, as if carefully choosing his words. "Well, you could just walk away. No one's going to stop you if you don't come back. But..." His voice dropped, and for the first time that night, he looked genuinely uncomfortable. "If you talk—if you go to the police, or try to blow the whistle, things get messy."
"Messy how?" You asked, your throat tightening.
He glanced at you, his gaze serious. "You could be arrested. They'll find a way to charge you with something without exposing themselves. And if that doesn't work..." He hesitated again, his grip tightening on the wheel. "You could... disappear."
"Disappear?" You echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Killed." He said bluntly, though his tone was soft. "But that's only if you snitch. As long as you keep your mouth shut, you're safe. I'll protect you from everything else. You just have to trust me."
You stared at him, his words sinking in like cold water. "I trust you." You said finally, though your voice was shaky.
Haechan's expression softened, his usual bright smile returning. "Good. I've been doing this for a long time Y/n. I know how to keep you safe."
He pulled up to your apartment building.
"Thanks for tonight." You said, your voice quieter now. "For taking care of me."
He smiled. "Anytime. Text me when you're inside, ok?"
You nodded, climbing out of the car and heading up to your apartment. Once inside, you dropped your things and leaned against the door, exhaling a shaky breath. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"You're okay, right?"
You smiled faintly, typing back.
"Yeah, I had fun. Thank you for caring about me this much."
His reply came almost instantly.
"Always."
You meant it when you said you trusted him, but as you stared at the $8,000 now sitting on your counter, a lingering unease settled in your chest. This all felt too good to be true. ══════════════════════════
The days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, you'd settled into a strange rhythm at the casino. You'd show up with Haechan, who would always meet you at your door, teasing you about taking forever to get ready.
"I swear you spend more time picking an outfit than we do making money." He'd joke, leaning against your doorframe with that familiar smirk that made your stomach twist.
"Maybe I like looking good for tips." You'd reply, brushing past him with a smile that was just as teasing.
It wasn't long before you learned the ins and outs of the job. Jisung and Chenle started treating you like one of the guys, offering pointers and cracking jokes about your mistakes. Mark was a constant source of encouragement, always reminding you to keep your head up when things got overwhelming.
And then there was Haechan.
He was always there—your partner, your guide, your protector. He would steer you away from customers he didn't trust, stand close when someone got too handsy, and give you a quiet thumbs up from across the room when he saw you closing out a big tip.
"You're a natural." He'd say whenever you doubted yourself, his voice warm and sincere in a way that made your chest ache.
It wasn't just his words. It was the way he would linger a little too long when handing you your coat, his fingers brushing against yours. The way his eyes would soften when you laughed, like he was seeing something he didn't know he needed.
You tried not to think too much about it. After all, this wasn't the kind of world where feelings could blossom freely. There was always a shadow hanging over you—an unspoken reminder that nothing about this life was safe.
Still, moments with Haechan felt... different. Like tonight.
The casino had been unusually packed, the noise and lights more overwhelming than usual. You worked the floor for hours, smiling until your cheeks hurt and dodging the advances of too drunk customers. By the time the night was over, you were exhausted, leaning against the wall near the entrance as you waited for Haechan.
"Long night?" His voice pulled you from your thoughts.
You looked up to see him standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets and that familiar playful smile tugging at his lips.
"Understatement." You muttered, pushing yourself off the wall.
He chuckled, tilting his head toward the exit. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."
The drive back was quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the space between you, but then Haechan broke the silence.
"You've been killing it lately." He said, glancing at you. "Seriously. Even Chenle said he's impressed."
You smiled, the compliment warming you more than it should have. "Thanks. It's been... a lot to get used to, but I think I'm finally getting the hang of it."
"You are." He said softly, his tone more serious now. "You're doing great Y/n. Better than I expected."
"Better than you expected?" You teased, raising an eyebrow. "Wow, ouch."
He laughed, the sound filling the car. "That's not what I meant. I knew you'd do well—I just didn't think you'd handle everything this easily. It's not exactly... normal, you know?"
You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "Yeah, I know, but I've got you guys, so it helps."
His expression softened, and for a moment, he didn't say anything. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. "You've got me at least."
The words hung in the air, heavier than you expected. You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the way he looked at you—like he meant it, like he wanted you to believe it.
"I know, I've always have." You said, your voice just as soft.
The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, the tension between you settling into something warm. When he dropped you off at your apartment, he lingered for a moment, leaning against the car door as you fumbled with your keys.
"Get some rest." He said, his tone lighter now. "You've earned it."
"You too." You replied, pausing in the doorway. "Haechan?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks. For... everything."
He smiled, the kind of smile that felt like it was just for you. "Always."
You closed the door behind you, leaning against it as your heart raced.
The weeks continued to pass, each night at the casino blurring into the next. You found yourself looking forward to the moments you shared with Haechan, the quiet car rides and the easy banter that seemed to come so naturally.
It was in the way he'd stand a little too close when you talked, the way his hand would linger on your lower back as he guided you through the crowded floor. You told yourself it didn't mean anything, that it was just Haechan being Haechan, but deep down, you weren't so sure. ══════════════════════════ Rule two: never, ever go to this place without Haechan.
It was early evening when Haechan's text popped up on your phone. You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup, already running late.
"Don't bother getting ready tonight. I'm sick, and we're not going in."
You frowned, rereading the text. Your heart sank. Tuition was due in two days, and while you had some of the money saved up, you still needed tonight's cash out to cover the rest.
You quickly typed back.
"I need to go. Can't you power through just for a few hours?"
His response came faster than you expected.
"No Y/n. Just take the night off."
It was one of the rules he'd drilled into your head since day one: Never go to the casino alone. But the deadline for your tuition payment loomed over you, and staying home wasn't an option.
You made up your mind quickly, grabbing your bag and heading out the door.
The casino was just as chaotic as usual—loud music, flashing lights, and the hum of people talking, laughing, and gambling. Without Haechan by your side, it felt overwhelming, but you pushed past the nerves. You told yourself you'd just do a few rounds, make your money, and leave before anyone noticed you were there alone.
As you made your way through the floor, a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.
"Princess."
You turned around, your heart skipping a beat when you saw him—the guy from your first night, the one who'd slipped you $500. He looked just as attractive as you remembered, dressed sharply with an air of confidence that made him stand out even in a place like this.
"Leaving so soon?" He asked, a playful smirk on his lips.
"Uh, no. Just... getting started." You replied, trying to sound casual as your heart raced.
His smile widened, and he stepped closer. "What if, instead of working, you spend the night talking to me?"
You raised an eyebrow, half laughing. "You want to pay me to talk to you?"
"Why not?" He said smoothly. "I think you're interesting, and I'd like to get to know you better."
You hesitated, glancing around the room. "I don't even know your name."
"Jaemin." He said, holding out his hand.
You shook it, your gaze narrowing slightly. "That name sounds familiar."
"It should." He said, his smirk deepening. "I'm kind of a big deal around here."
You tilted your head, trying to place him, but nothing clicked. "I don't know what that means, but ok."
He chuckled, leaning in just enough to make your pulse quicken. "One conversation. I'll pay for your cash out tonight if you do."
You froze, your eyes narrowing. "How do you even know about cash outs?"
Jaemin's grin widened, his voice dropping lower. "Because I'm the boss sweetheart. The one who runs everything here."
Your heart stopped. "Wait—you're the boss?"
"Guilty." He said, his tone casual but his eyes locked on yours. "Now, about that conversation?"
You didn't have much of a choice. If he was really the boss, there was no way you could turn him down without risking your job—or worse.
"Alright," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "but I expect you to keep your promise."
"Always." He replied, his tone smooth as silk.
The two of you ended up in one of the VIP lounges, a secluded space far away from the noise of the casino floor. The atmosphere was intimate, the lighting low and warm.
"So," Jaemin said, leaning back on the couch and studying you with a faint smile. "Tell me about yourself."
You laughed softly, shaking your head. "Isn't this supposed to be about you?"
"I already know about me." He said, his tone teasing. "I want to know about you. What made you decide to work here?"
You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "I needed the money. Tuition's expensive, and this seemed... easier than working three part time jobs."
He nodded, his expression softening. "Fair enough. So, what's your major?"
"Business," you replied. "and before you ask—no, I'm not planning to end up in a place like this after I graduate."
Jaemin laughed, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Smart girl, but you know, you've got a natural talent for this. You could go far if you wanted to."
"I'll take that as a compliment." You said, your lips curving into a smile.
"You should. I'd be lying if I said you didn't catch my attention the moment I saw you."
You felt your cheeks heat up but managed to play it cool. "Well, you'll have to get used to disappointment. I'm not here for attention—I'm here for money."
Jaemin tilted his head, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "And here I was thinking you came back tonight because you couldn't stop thinking about me."
You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. "You're ridiculous."
"Am I?" He asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Because I think I'm pretty good at reading people, and right now, I'm reading you."
"Oh yeah? And what's my story Mr. Boss?" you asked, crossing your arms and leaning back.
He mirrored your posture, smirking. "You're smart, ambitious, and probably way too good for a place like this, but you're also a little reckless—you wouldn't be here alone tonight if you weren't."
The flirtation in his voice was impossible to ignore, and your heart picked up speed. "Maybe I'm just bad at following rules." You said, your tone light but your gaze steady.
"Good," Jaemin said, his voice dropping an octave. "I like people who know how to break the rules."
The way he said it made your stomach flip, and for a moment, you were grateful for the low lighting that hid your expression.
"Careful." You said, forcing a smirk. "I might start to think you're the reckless one."
"Who's to say I'm not?" He replied smoothly. He leaned back, watching you like he was waiting for you to challenge him further.
The energy between you was magnetic. It wasn't until Jaemin's next comment that your breath caught.
"Tell me something princess." He said, his voice soft, but deliberate. "Do you always play hard to get, or is that just for me?"
You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. The intensity in his gaze made it impossible to think straight.
"You really think I'm playing?" You managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
His smirk deepened, and he leaned in just enough to make your pulse race. "I think you're having fun, but if I'm wrong, you can tell me to stop anytime."
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Before you could say anything, the moment was interrupted.
"Jaemin."
Both of you turned to see Haechan standing in the doorway, his expression stormy. His eyes flicked between you and Jaemin, his jaw clenched tight.
Jaemin stood, his demeanor casual despite the tension radiating from Haechan. "If it's about business it can wait." Jaemin said, his tone light but firm.
"It's not." Haechan replied, his voice clipped. "Can we talk? Alone."
Jaemin glanced at you, his smirk softening into something almost reassuring. "Don't go anywhere princess. I'll be right back."
As soon as the door closed behind them, you braced yourself. It didn't take long before Haechan came back, his expression darker than before.
Haechan's shoulders tensed as he stared at you, his jaw clenched so tightly you thought he might snap. "I just don't understand why you'd risk everything by coming here alone. Did you even think about what could've happened to you?"
"Don't talk to me like I'm reckless Haechan." You shot back, your voice sharp. "I'm not stupid. I was careful, and you weren't here. What was I supposed to do? Sit at home and hope for the best while my tuition goes unpaid?"
His nostrils flared, and he stepped closer, lowering his voice but not his intensity. "You were supposed to trust me. I told you I'd take care of it, and instead, you went behind my back and broke the most important rule here."
"Trust you?" You echoed, scoffing bitterly. "You mean the way you've been keeping things from me? Like the fact that Jaemin owns this place? You want me to trust you, but you don't even tell me the full truth."
Haechan flinched slightly, guilt flashing in his eyes before frustration took over again. "I didn't tell you about Jaemin because I didn't want you getting mixed up with him. He's—"
"He's what?" you interrupted, your anger boiling over. "Because from where I'm standing, he's the only one who's been upfront with me tonight. And maybe if you had been honest from the start, I wouldn't have felt the need to come here on my own."
His hands curled into fists at his sides, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "You don't get it, do you? This isn't just some game. Jaemin isn't some harmless guy throwing money around—he's dangerous Y/n. I've seen what happens to people who cross him. I didn't tell you because I was trying to protect you!"
"Protect me?" You repeated, shaking your head. "You're not protecting me Haechan. You're treating me like I'm incapable of making my own decisions, and I'm tired of it."
For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, the weight of your words hanging in the air like a heavy cloud. Haechan's shoulders sagged slightly, his expression softening but still guarded. "I'm not trying to control you." He said quietly, his voice almost breaking. "I just—"
He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair as he looked away.
"You just what?" You pressed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and something else you couldn't quite place.
"I don't want to lose you." He finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
The vulnerability in his words hit you harder than you expected, but it wasn't enough to extinguish the frustration still simmering in your chest.
"You don't get to say that after everything." You said, your tone softer but still firm. "You don't get to act like you care and then keep me in the dark."
His jaw worked as he struggled to find the right words. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "You're right." He said, his voice heavy. "I messed up, but you still shouldn't have come here alone."
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "And you shouldn't have lied to me. Looks like we both messed up."
"Let's just go." He said after a long pause, his voice low.
You nodded stiffly, still too angry to say more. As the two of you walked out of the lounge, Jaemin's voice followed you.
"Leaving so soon princess?" He called, his tone laced with amusement.
Haechan didn't even look back, his hand brushing your arm as he gently guided you toward the exit.
The car ride was silent, the air between you thick with unresolved tension. You stared out the window, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, while Haechan gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.
As you approached your apartment, he finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "We'll talk about this later."
You didn't respond, but the flicker of hurt in his tone made your chest ache. As much as you wanted to hold onto your anger, you couldn't shake the feeling that tonight had changed something between you. ══════════════════════════
The tension between you and Haechan was suffocating, and the silence in the car lingered long after you had arrived home. He didn't follow you inside, didn't offer his usual lingering goodbye, just sat in the driver's seat, gripping the wheel, his knuckles white as if he was fighting every instinct to say something.
You didn't look back when you walked into your apartment, but the guilt started to settle in the moment you closed the door behind you. Still, your frustration bubbled just beneath the surface. You knew Haechan cared, but you also felt trapped under the weight of his protectiveness, like he didn't see you as someone capable of standing on your own.
As you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. You hesitated before grabbing it, expecting a text from Haechan, but instead a random number flashed across the screen.
"Did you make it home safely princess?"
Jaemin. Your lips twitched into a small smile despite the events of the evening. Why does he care? you wondered.
"Yeah, I'm home. Thanks for asking."
Almost immediately, he replied.
"Good. You shouldn't let Haechan get to you too much. He's always been protective, but he means well."
You stared at the message, your mind racing. Why does it feel like he knows so much?
"How did you even get my number?"
"I have my ways."
Your stomach twisted at his vague response, a strange mix of unease and intrigue coursing through you.
"That's not an answer Jaemin."
"Let's just say I make it my business to know the people who interest me. And you Y/n, are very interesting."
Your cheeks flushed at the implication, but a small part of you bristled at the invasion of privacy.
"You're really something else, huh?"
"Only for you princess."
Before you could respond, another text came through.
"I'd rather see that smile of yours in person than try to guess how you're feeling through a screen. Think you can handle another night at the lounge soon?"
Your heart skipped a beat. He was so smooth, so disarming, and it was hard not to be charmed by his confidence. But after tonight, you weren't sure how you felt about stepping foot in the lounge again.
"We'll see. I don't want to cause any more trouble."
"You're not trouble Y/n. You're a breath of fresh air in a room full of suffocating smoke."
Your heart fluttered, you hated how easily his words affected you.
"Goodnight Jaemin."
"Sweet dreams princess."
You set your phone down, biting your lip to suppress a smile, but the weight of your fight with Haechan lingered. You knew you'd have to face him again soon, and the thought filled you with equal parts dread and anticipation.
The next morning, you weren't surprised when Haechan showed up at your apartment. He didn't knock, just let himself in with the spare key you'd given him months ago. You found him leaning against your kitchen counter, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
"We need to talk." He said, his voice low, but steady.
You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I know."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm still mad. I'm furious actually, but more than that, I'm scared. You don't understand how dangerous Jaemin is Y/n. He's not some harmless flirt—he's the kind of guy who could ruin your life without blinking."
You flinched at his words, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. "And what if I can handle him? What if I don't need you swooping in to save me all the time?"
Haechan's jaw clenched. "It's not about you needing me. It's about the fact that I can't sit back and watch you get hurt. You're too important to me."
Your breath caught at the intensity in his voice, and for a moment, you didn't know what to say.
"Haechan..."
He shook his head, stepping closer. "I know I've been holding back, not telling you everything, but it's not because I don't trust you—it's because I don't trust him. Jaemin doesn't do anything without a reason, and if he's got his eyes on you, it's not because he's just being nice."
You frowned, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. "I can't just ignore him Haechan. He knows things—about the lounge, about you, about me. Part of me feels like if I don't play along, it'll only make things worse."
His eyes softened, but his frustration was still evident. "If you think Jaemin is the kind of person you can play along with, you don't know him like I do."
"I'm not an idiot." You snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. "I don't need you to lecture me about how dangerous he is. I'm just trying to figure this out on my own terms, without you controlling every step I take."
His jaw tightened, and his voice dropped. "Then figure it out, but don't come crying to me when it blows up in your face."
Your chest tightened, his words cutting deeper than you expected. "So that's it? You're just done?"
Haechan's expression was stormy, but there was an unmistakable sadness in his eyes. "I don't want to be, but I can't protect you if you keep running straight into the fire."
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold back tears. "Maybe I don't need your protection Haechan. Maybe I just need you to trust me."
He didn't say anything for a long moment, his gaze fixed on you as if searching for something. Finally, he exhaled sharply and grabbed his jacket.
"Well I don't." He said flatly, heading for the door. "Since you're so big and bad now, figure it out yourself."
══════════════════════════ Rule #3: never go home with anyone.
The door slammed behind Haechan, the sound echoing in the quiet apartment, and for a moment, you just stood there, staring at the space he left. The words he'd said still stung—especially the way he'd walked out without looking back, as if you weren't even worth the fight anymore.
You didn't know why it hurt so much. Maybe it was the way he'd always been there, his protective instincts always so fierce. Or maybe it was the way he'd seemed to abandon you when you needed him most. Either way, the emptiness in your chest wasn't something you could ignore.
You sank onto the couch, trying to clear your head. You don't need him, you thought. You're strong enough to handle this on your own, but as much as you told yourself that, the ache in your heart didn't fade.
After a while, you found yourself reaching for your phone and staring at Jaemin's number, the memory of his charming words still lingering in your mind. He'd always known how to make you smile, how to make you feel like you were the only person in the room. Honestly, right now, you needed that distraction.
You hesitated for a moment before typing out a simple message.
"Hey, are you working tonight?"
You didn't have to wait long for his reply.
"I'm always working, but I'm free if you need some company. You gonna come see me tonight?"
There was something about the way he phrased it that made your stomach flutter. You knew what he meant, and despite the mess that had just unfolded with Haechan, you felt the pull toward him. Maybe it was wrong, maybe it wasn't the healthiest decision, but in that moment, you didn't care. You wanted to feel wanted again.
"I'll be there in a bit."
You changed quickly, putting on something that made you feel confident. You weren't exactly sure what was drawing you back to the casino, but you had to admit, Jaemin was part of the reason. The way he looked at you, the way he made you feel like you were the center of his world, it was intoxicating. It was exactly what you needed after the fight with Haechan.
The casino was as chaotic as always when you arrived, but the moment you stepped through the door, your eyes immediately found Jaemin. He was talking to someone, but the second he saw you, his gaze sharpened, and a smile spread across his face.
"Well, well, look who finally decided to grace me with her presence." Jaemin said, walking toward you. His presence seemed to fill the room in a way that made you feel all eyes on you.
"Couldn't resist, huh?" He added, a playful glint in his eyes.
"I guess not." You replied, unable to fight the small smile tugging at your lips. You leaned against the bar as he approached, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the tension between you, the unspoken connection that had been simmering from the moment you first met him.
Jaemin stepped in closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "So, what's a beautiful woman like you doing here all alone? Shouldn't you be somewhere safer?"
The way he said "safer" made it sound like a challenge, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
"I don't know," you answered, keeping your voice steady, "maybe I wanted to see you again."
His smile widened, and without missing a beat, he placed his hand lightly on your back, guiding you away from the bar. "I'm glad you did. I was starting to think I'd have to drag you here myself."
You chuckled at the thought, but there was no mistaking the way he was looking at you now. His hand lingered lower on your back, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.
As you both moved through the crowd, Jaemin leaned in closer, his voice just above a whisper. "I've been thinking about you Y/n. You've been on my mind since that night at the casino."
His words were smooth, but it was the intensity in his eyes that made your stomach tighten.
"Have you?" You asked, voice dropping to match his intimacy. You were close enough now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his proximity making your heart race.
"Yeah." Jaemin replied, a sly smile playing on his lips. "I can't help myself when I see someone as stunning as you. I like the way you move, the way you talk, the way you look at me." His fingers brushed the edge of your arm as he spoke.
You didn't pull away. You couldn't. "Well, maybe you shouldn't have been so bold then." You teased, your breath catching in your throat as his gaze darkened.
"I'm bold because I know exactly what I want." Jaemin said, his voice a smooth caress against your ear as he leaned in even closer. "And right now, I want you."
You swallowed hard, the tension between you two almost unbearable now. "What are you saying Jaemin?"
He stopped walking and turned to face you, his hand gently cupping your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. "I'm saying... maybe you should come back to my place tonight. We can skip all the small talk and go straight to what we both want."
Your breath hitched. You could feel the heat rising between you, but even then there was a lingering thought in the back of your mind—Haechan. You had just had a fight with him, but did that mean you had to go through with this?
Jaemin didn't wait for your answer. "You don't have to decide now, but I'm not going to ask again." He whispered, his lips so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath. "Let's see where the night takes us."
And before you could stop yourself, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Okay."
You followed him out of the casino, your heart racing as you left behind everything familiar—everything safe. Jaemin's house was breathtakingly luxurious—sleek and modern, with high ceilings and expansive glass walls that reflected the glittering city lights, but you didn't get much of a chance to take it in. His focus was entirely on you, and you were too consumed by him to care about your surroundings.
The moment the door shut behind you, his hands found your waist, pulling you against him. His lips crashed into yours, hungry and demanding. There was no hesitation, no time for second thoughts. He guided you deeper into the house.
Jaemin's kiss was intoxicating, his tongue teasing yours as he deepened it, his hands gripping your hips like he never wanted to let go. You barely noticed when he guided you into a room, sitting you on the cool surface of a dresser. His body moved between your legs effortlessly, as if he'd always belonged there.
He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes blazing with unspoken desire. "So pretty." He whispered, his voice rough yet tender. His lips found your jawline, trailing soft kisses down your neck. Each touch sent shivers cascading down your spine, his hands squeezing your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the dresser until there was no space left between you.
Your breath hitched as he kissed harsher now, his lips sucking at the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving marks. You couldn't stop the soft moans escaping your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked his way deeper into your senses. His touch, his scent, his presence—it was overwhelming.
Jaemin's hands slid lower, gripping the curve of your hips as he pressed you against him. He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing ragged. "You sure about this?" He asked, his voice low.
You smiled, biting your lip, your voice barely steady. "I'm sure."
His lips curled into a smirk, satisfaction evident. Without wasting another moment, he lifted you off the dresser and turned you toward the large mirror across the room. Your reflection stared back at you, flushed and disheveled, as he bent you over the smooth wooden surface. His hands roamed down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as his lips found the back of your neck.
"Look how pretty you are." He murmured, his deep voice washing over you. His eyes locked on yours through the mirror, a mixture of admiration and desire in his gaze.
As he slid your dress up over your hips, exposing more of your skin to the air, you felt your breath hitch. His lips trailed down the back of your neck, leaving a trail of soft, open mouthed kisses that sent tingles down your spine.
The warmth of his hands returned, firm and sure as they settled on your hips, holding you in place. One hand slid lower, his fingers brushing against the sensitive heat between your legs. Even through the fabric, the contact made you tremble.
His smirk widened as he watched your reflection react to his touch, your lips parting in a soft gasp. "And you're so wet for me already." He whispered, his tone teasing yet dripping with satisfaction.
You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror. His fingers pressed against you more firmly, circling in a way that had your knees weakening beneath you.
"You feel that?" He asked, his voice low and rough against your ear as he leaned over you, his chest brushing against your back. "That's how much you want this. How much you want me."
You nodded, unable to find your voice, your body responding to his touch in ways words couldn't capture. He grinned at your reflection, his confidence intoxicating as he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck.
"Good." He murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "Because I'm not stopping until I've had all of you.
Jaemin's eyes stayed locked on yours through the mirror as he reached down, pulling away the last barrier of clothing keeping you from him. His gaze never left, taking in every inch of your exposed skin, the heat in his expression enough to make your pulse race. His fingers trailed teasingly along your inner thigh, drawing shivers from your body before finally sliding between your folds.
When he slipped one finger inside, your breath caught, and a soft moan escaped your lips. "Jaemin." You whimpered, your head falling forward slightly as your body instinctively pressed back against his hand. He didn't hold back, setting a relentless pace that had your knees trembling almost immediately.
"What's the matter?" He asked, his voice low and taunting, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Can't handle it? You're gonna have a rough time if you can't even take my fingers princess." His laughter was dark and quiet through the room as he pushed another finger inside.
"I can take it." You shot back, your voice laced with determination—though the words broke into a shaky moan as his fingers curled just right, brushing against that spot that made you see stars.
"Yeah?" He replied, his tone both amused and challenging. He quickened his pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you, the slight curve of them sending waves of pleasure rolling through your body. "Then take it. Show me you can handle it."
Your stomach tightened, the coil of heat building steadily as he worked you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck... oh my god" You gasped, your hands gripping the edge of the dresser for support as your legs started to quake.
Jaemin's smirk widened, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "It's okay. Don't fight it. Just let go for me. Soak my fingers princess." His words were both commanding and soothing, pushing you right to the brink.
"I'm there." You managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper as your body gave in. Your knees buckled, and a flood of warmth coursed through you.
Jaemin slowed his movements but didn't stop, milking every last tremor from your body before finally pulling his fingers out. He lifted his hand into view, his fingers glistening as he tilted them slightly.
"Look." He said with a satisfied smile. "Look at what you did."
You barely managed to lift your head, still catching your breath, but when your eyes met his in the mirror, the smirk on his face sent a fresh wave of heat through you. He brought his fingers closer, holding them in front of your lips.
"Clean me up." He ordered softly, his eyes dark with desire.
Your tongue flicked out, tasting yourself as you took his fingers into your mouth, your lips wrapping around them. The way he watched you, his gaze heavy and unwavering, sent a shiver down your spine. When you were finished, he pulled his fingers away slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
"Such a good girl for me." He murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
"Turn around for me." Jaemin murmured, his voice low and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine.
Before you could move, he grasped your chin gently, tilting your face up to his. His lips met yours in another deep, hungry kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. When he finally pulled away, his lips were slightly swollen, and his gaze burned into yours.
"Now, take my pants off." He whispered.
You didn't hesitate. Your hands moved quickly to undo the button and zipper, pulling his pants down his hips and letting them pool around his ankles. Your fingers hovered teasingly at the waistband of his underwear for a moment, your eyes flicking up to meet his. The faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips gave you all the encouragement you needed. You slid the last piece of fabric down, freeing him completely.
"Good." He praised, his voice a soft growl. "Now turn back around."
You obeyed, turning to face the mirror again. His hands settled on your hips as he stepped closer, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His lips brushed your ear as he spoke.
"I want you to look at yourself the whole time I'm fucking you. Don't you dare look anywhere else. Do you understand?"
"Yes." You whispered breathlessly, your body already trembling in anticipation.
"Good." He murmured, his lips curving into a grin as he teased your entrance with the tip of his length.
He paused for just a moment, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror, savoring the way your body reacted to his teasing. Then, without warning, he pushed his full length into you in one smooth motion.
"Fuck." You whimpered, your fingers gripping the edge of the dresser as your body adjusted to the stretch. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve alive and buzzing.
"You're so fucking tight." Jaemin groaned, his voice a breathy moan, almost like a chuckle. His hands gripped your hips firmly, his fingers pressing into your skin as he began to move, his thrusts deep.
"You're taking me so well." He murmured, his eyes dark and intense as they met yours in the mirror. "Like this pretty little hole was made just for me." His smirk was wicked, dripping with satisfaction as he watched you.
The room filled with the sounds of skin meeting skin, your moans and his low groans. Every thrust was harder than the last, and his grip on your plush thighs tightened, holding you steady as he drove into you relentlessly.
The pressure was overwhelming, instinctively your head began to lower, seeking relief from the intensity.
"What did I tell you?" Jaemin's voice cut through, sharp and demanding.
"To... to look up the whole time." You stammered, your voice shaky and weak.
"Then why are you looking down?" He asked, his breath hitching slightly even as he kept his relentless pace.
"It feels so good." You whimpered. "I... I can't take it."
He chuckled darkly. "Then I'll make you take it."
One of his hands slid into your hair, gripping a fistful and pulling your head back up. Your eyes met his in the mirror again, and the intensity in his gaze sent another wave of heat crashing through you.
He picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder and deeper. The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, drowning out everything else. Your back arched as he pulled your hair tighter, forcing you to keep your eyes on the mirror.
"Such a filthy slut," he growled, his voice low and rough. "but you can't take it, hm?"
You tried to respond, to form words, but all that escaped were broken moans and gasps, your voice caught in your throat as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.
"Fuck." Jaemin groaned, his pace faltering for just a moment as his thrusts grew rougher. "I'm almost there. You gonna cum with me?"
You nodded frantically, unable to speak, your body trembling as your stomach tightened.
"Good fucking slut." He rasped, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you with one final thrust.
The two of you came undone together, your release washing over you so intense you thought you might collapse. Jaemin's groans mixed with your cries as he spilled into you, his grip on your body grounding you as you both rode out the last moments of pleasure.
His hands softened, sliding up your sides and pulling you gently against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his breathing still ragged.
"You did so well." He whispered, his tone soft and full of praise. "So fucking perfect."
You forgot about the fight with Haechan, about the rules you'd broken. Well, you tried, but as you got cleaned up you couldn't stop thinking about him. ═════════════════════════ Jaemin had gotten a call that he needed to return to the casino to handle some business. The car ride back was unnervingly silent, and when you finally arrived, he didn't spare a moment. Without so much as a glance your way, he rushed inside, leaving you behind.
You sighed, shaking your head before following him in. You finally reached the office. Inside, Mark, Jisung, and Chenle were gathered in conversation over some paperwork.
"Where did you two go?" Mark asked, getting up from his chair the moment he saw you.
"To his house." You replied casually, brushing off the weight of the evening.
"To his what?" Mark stuttered, his voice rising slightly. His eyes flickered to Jisung, who immediately froze mid gesture.
"Are you okay?" Jisung added, a hint of worry in his tone as he exchanged a wide eyed look with Mark.
"Yes, I'm fine. Why are you asking me that?" You asked, growing defensive under their intense stares.
"Well..." Jisung hesitated, leaning back in his chair. "No one ever goes to Jaemin's house. I mean no one." He paused, sucking his teeth.
"Well, at least no one who's seen again." Chenle said without looking up from his papers.
You blinked at him, stunned by his bluntness. "I'm here, aren't I?" You replied, forcing a smile. "I really think he likes me."
Jisung and Mark exchanged another skeptical look, their eyebrows rising simultaneously.
"He definitely treats you differently." Jisung admitted.
Mark on the other hand scoffed lightly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You couldn't go after someone a little safer though?" He teased.
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. "Someone like who?"
"Someone like Haechan." Mark suggested, his smirk widening.
"Haechan doesn't even like me." You shot back, shaking your head.
Mark's smile twisted slightly, awkwardness replacing his teasing. Chenle for the first time looked up from his papers and locked eyes with Jisung. A shared understanding passed between them.
"Oh, um... I don't think that's—" Mark started to say, but his words were cut off as the door swung open.
"What's up guys?" Haechan said, walking in like he owned the room. His sharp eyes swept over everyone, lingering briefly on you before moving on.
"Hey Haechan." Mark greeted, forcing a casual tone.
"Hey." You added, offering him a small smile.
Haechan nodded at you but didn't stop to engage, heading straight for Mark.
"Haechan." Mark blurted, clearly still in disbelief. "Y/n actually made it to Jaemin's house."
Haechan froze for a moment, then chuckled. "Yeah, I know." He said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I'm surprised she made it back." His gaze flickered to you.
"What's that supposed to mean Haechan?" You asked, your voice rising slightly with offense.
"Oh, I don't know." He replied coolly. "Maybe that you could've been killed. You do realize no one makes it out of Jaemin's house, right?"
You glared at him. "Well, you never told me that."
"It's almost like I did though." He snapped, his jaw tightening.
"I survived, ok? I'm fine." You crossed your arms, but he wasn't looking at you anymore. He turned his back and walked toward the counter, busying himself with some documents.
Mark mouthed something to you, gesturing toward Haechan with pleading eyes: "Make it right."
You sighed deeply, swallowing your pride. Rubbing the back of your neck, you walked up behind Haechan and gently touched his arm. "Can we talk Haechan? Please?"
He stiffened at your touch, turning his head slightly to glance at you. His eyes were dark, and unreadable. "Didn't I tell you I was done with you?" He hissed. His words stung more than you cared to admit.
"Haechan, please." You said softly. "I don't want you to be done with me. Can we just... talk?"
For a moment, his expression softened, the anger in his eyes replaced by something you couldn't quite place. He sighed. "Fine, but only for a second."
He grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the room, leading you down a secluded hallway. The narrow space left little room for distance, forcing you both closer than you'd been in weeks.
"What?" He asked sharply, his voice low and full with frustration.
"Haechan." You began, your voice quiet. "I'm sorry, but what did you expect me to do?"
"I don't know—maybe listen to me. Not break my trust. Not put yourself in danger." He shot back, his words tumbling out in a rush.
"I can protect myself." You said, trying to meet his gaze.
His laugh was bitter. "Y/n, Jaemin is dangerous. You seriously could've been killed. Do you have any idea how bad this night could've gone?"
"But it didn't," you countered. "I'm fine. I made it back."
"You think this is the end of it? You've put yourself in a situation you can't get out of. What happens when he gets angry at you? What happens if you piss him off—if one night he decides you're not worth his time anymore?" His voice cracked slightly, his vulnerability slipping through. "You don't get second chances with people like him."
You stepped closer, cupping his face in your hands. His breath hitched at the sudden touch, his eyes searching yours.
"Haechan." You whispered, "I know I've made mistakes. I know I've hurt you, but I trust you, and I need you to trust me too."
"It's not that I don't trust you." He murmured, his hands ghosting over your sides before he pulled them away. "I just... I can't let anything happen to you. I'll never forgive myself if I do."
You leaned in closer, your forehead brushing against his. "Nothing's going to happen. I promise, i'm right here."
For a moment, the world fell away as your lips met his. The kiss was soft, yet filled with an unspoken longing. When he pulled back his eyes were glossy, his lips slightly parted.
"Go home." He whispered.
"Haechan—"
"Go home." He repeated, shaking his head. "I'll call you a car, but you can't stay here."
Reluctantly you nodded. "Ok."
You lingered for a moment longer before turning and walking away, your heart heavy, but hopeful as you exited the casino.
══════════════════════════
It was another night that you had spent there without Haechan. It wasn't the first time, but after the talk you both had you wanted him to be there with you at least.
Taking a small break, you slipped into the back office when your phone buzzed with a notification.
"Darling, can you meet me in the private hallway, please? I know you're here."
Jaemin's text sent your heart racing. Without hesitation, you rushed to the hallway, trying to figure out what he wanted. When you arrived, you saw him standing there—with Haechan.
A smile played on Jaemin's lips as you approached. "You needed me?" You asked, glancing briefly at Haechan, whose expression was unreadable.
"Of course. I always need you princess." Jaemin replied smoothly. Then he turned to Haechan, his tone sharpening. "But I think Haechan needs you too. Isn't that right Haechan?"
"Jaemin, what are you talking about?" Haechan stammered, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips.
"Answer the question. Do you need her?" Jaemin pressed, his gaze unwavering.
Haechan's composure faltered. "Yes," he admitted softly. "I need her."
Jaemin smirked. "You know, I reviewed the security footage and saw you two here in this very hallway." His tone grew colder. "I don't like people taking what's mine Haechan, you know that."
"I'm sorry Jaemin. I didn't realize things were that serious between you two." Haechan said, glancing nervously at you.
Jaemin stepped closer. "Have you fucked her yet?"
The bluntness of the question caught Haechan off guard. "No." He replied quickly.
"But you've thought about it, haven't you?" Jaemin pressed, his voice dangerously calm. "You want to, don't you?"
Haechan hesitated, his throat dry. Jaemin had a way of knowing everything—even things you didn't fully realize about yourself.
"Yes." Haechan admitted, his voice barely audible.
"Yes what?" Jaemin demanded, tilting his head.
"Yes, I want to fuck her." Haechan said, glancing your way before looking down.
Jaemin turned his attention to you. "And what about you princess? You've thought about it too, haven't you?"
Your stomach churned. Lying wasn't an option—not with Jaemin. His piercing gaze demanded the truth.
"Yes," you confessed quietly. "I've thought about it."
Haechan glanced up at you for a second, a gleam of light shining in his eyes. Jaemin's smirk widened. "Good. Tell me, which one of us do you want more?"
Your eyes flickered to Haechan for a moment, he shook his head, looking your eyes before you answered. "You Jaemin. Of course."
He seemed satisfied with your response. "Come here princess." He commanded softly.
You stepped closer.
"Get on your knees for me."
Obediently, you sank to your knees before him, looking up with wide, vulnerable eyes.
Haechan shifted uncomfortably. "Uh... maybe I should go—"
"No." Jaemin interrupted firmly. "Stay right here."
He turned back to you. "Princess, pull my pants down. Make me feel good. Maybe I'll forgive you."
You obeyed, your hands trembling slightly as you pulled his pants and underwear down, freeing him.
"Don't act shy." He teased, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "You've seen it before."
You took him into your mouth slowly, earning a low groan from him. His hand found its way into your hair, guiding you gently at first, then with increasing intensity.
"Fuck, just like that." He praised, his voice husky.
Haechan's breath hitched as he watched. He tried to look away but couldn't, getting more turned on by the second.
Jaemin's grip on your hair tightened as he thrust deeper, his groans growing louder. "You're doing so good baby. Keep going."
The wet sounds him in your mouth filled the hallway, along with Jaemin's moans and the occasional choked gasp from you.
Haechan's hands clenched at his sides, his arousal straining against his pants.
"I'm close." Jaemin groaned, his movements growing frantic. "Let me finish in your throat."
Moments later, he spilled into your mouth, his release warm. You swallowed, wiping your face as Jaemin smiled down at you.
"You did so well princess." He murmured, stroking your cheek. Then his gaze shifted to Haechan.
"Now it's his turn."
"What?!" Haechan exclaimed, his voice rising. "I'm not sucking your dick Jaemin!"
Jaemin rolled his eyes. "You're such a fucking idiot Haechan. Y/n, baby, go to him."
You crawled over to Haechan, your eyes searching his for permission. "Can I?" You asked softly.
Haechan's lips parted as he nodded, his breaths shallow. "Yeah... you can."
Your fingers worked at his waistband, unbuttoning and unzipping slowly. When you freed him, his dick was hard and twitching.
"Are you sure?" You whispered again.
"Yes, I'm sure." He replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
You leaned forward, taking him into your mouth. His moans were soft at first, then grew louder as you moved. His hands hovered uncertainly before settling lightly on your head.
"Fuck Y/n." He whimpered, his voice cracking with pleasure.
Jaemin watched intently, a smirk tugging at his lips.
When Haechan's hips began to buck, Jaemin interjected. "Stop."
You and Haechan froze, turning to look at him.
"I want you to fuck her." Jaemin said, his tone low and commanding. "Finish inside her."
"Man you're a pervert." Haechan muttered under his breath before turning back to you. "Do you want this?" He asked, his voice tender.
"Yes." You answered, your cheeks flushed. "More than anything."
Moments later, Haechan had you pressed against the wall, your dress pushed up and underwear discarded. His movements were tentative at first, ensuring you were comfortable, but soon his thrusts grew harder, more desperate.
"Fuck, feels so good." He moaned out in a smile. He wanted you like this for a while, and now he finally had it, even if Jaemin was there to see it.
"Gonna cum, Haechan." You moaned out, throwing your head back on the cold, hard wall.
"Me too." he whimpered, becoming undone as your walls clenched around him.
"You gonna finish deep inside me, hm? Fill me up with your seed?" You whispered out in a breathy moan.
"Fuck, yes." Haechan whimpered out, twitching inside of you as your stomach tightened.
Jaemin just watched the scene unfold, his cock twitching as he looked at the both of you moving on each other. He didn't want to admit it, but it was hotter than he imagined.
Haechan finished in you, taking a deep breath as he twitched in you for a second. You both came down from your highs, avoiding eye contact as he exited you.
"Well, that was worth watching." Jaemin spoke. "Now you two get cleaned up and meet me in the office. I have some news." You two obliged, getting cleaned up before meeting the others in the office. ══════════════════════════
The door swung open, and the room fell silent as Jaemin stepped in, his presence commanding as ever. His sharp gaze swept across everyone, warning them not to interrupt.
"Good to see everyone working so hard." Jaemin said with a faint smirk, his tone deceptively light. He sauntered toward your desk, stopping in front of you with an unreadable expression. "Y/n, stand up."
Confused, you obeyed, your eyes flickering to Haechan, who was already frowning. Mark and Chenle exchanged glances, but no one said anything.
Jaemin cleared his throat, placing a hand on your shoulder as he addressed the room. "I wanted to let you all know that Y/n will no longer be working here."
The air grew thick, you stiffening as your heartbeat pounded in your ears.
"What?" Haechan's voice was sharp, breaking the stunned silence. He stood up, his jaw clenched as he stared at Jaemin.
Jaemin smiled faintly, ignoring Haechan's outburst. "She's moving in with me."
Mark's eyes widened, and Chenle shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Jisung stared at the floor, unwilling to meet anyone's gaze. No one dared to speak out, but their unease was intense.
"Jaemin, I—" You started to say, but his hand tightened on your shoulder, silencing you.
"It's not up for discussion." Jaemin said, his gaze locking with Haechan's. "She'll be safer with me, and I'm sure you all understand that."
Haechan took a step forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "You can't just—"
"Haechan." Jaemin's voice was calm but carried an edge of warning. "It's done. You should be glad I'm looking after her."
You glanced at Haechan, seeing the hurt and anger swirling in his eyes. He looked at you with betrayal.
"Y/n." Jaemin said, his tone softening slightly as he turned to you. "Go wait for me outside. I'll join you in a moment."
You hesitated, looking back at Haechan, who shook his head slightly, as if begging you not to go, but you nodded at Jaemin and walked out of the room, your heart heavy.
The hallway was quiet, but you could hear Haechan's heavy footsteps behind you before he even said a word. You turned, catching the stormy look on his face as he approached.
"Y/n." He said, his voice low. "What the hell are you doing? You can't just go with him."
You blinked, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. "Why not? He's just being protective, right? I mean, he said I'll be safer with him." You shrugged, forcing a smile. "Makes sense to me."
Haechan stared at you like you'd just grown a second head. "Are you serious right now? You really think Jaemin's doing this out of the goodness of his heart?"
You tilted your head. "Well... yeah? I mean, he's been really sweet to me. Maybe he just, I don't know, likes me?"
Haechan let out a bitter laugh, rubbing his hand over his face. "Y/n, he doesn't like anyone. He doesn't care about anyone. You're not moving in with him because he's sweet on you—you're moving in with him because he wants to control you."
"That's a little dramatic." You said, crossing your arms. "He hasn't done anything to hurt me."
"Yet." Haechan snapped. "He hasn't done anything yet. Do you know how many people have gone to Jaemin's house and never been seen again? Do you know what kind of man he really is?"
You sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on his arm. "Haechan, you're worrying over nothing. I'll be fine. He's not going to do anything to me—I mean, I survived last time, didn't I?"
"That's not the point!" Haechan snapped. "You're not taking this seriously, Y/n. He's dangerous. This isn't some fairytale where everything turns out fine just because you smile and say you'll be okay."
"I am okay." You insisted, your tone firm but still lighthearted. "You're just overthinking it. Jaemin likes me, and he's not going to hurt me. I mean, come on—look at me. Who would want to hurt this?" You gestured to yourself, flashing him a playful grin.
Haechan's jaw tightened, his frustration through the roof. "This isn't a joke Y/n. I'm not 'overthinking it.' I'm telling you you're walking straight into a trap, and you're acting like it's nothing."
You softened a little, stepping even closer. "Haechan, I get it. You're worried about me, and I appreciate that, but I need you to trust me. I know what I'm doing."
"No, you don't." He said flatly, his voice dropping. "You don't know anything about what you're doing. You're just... you're just trusting him like he hasn't already shown you who he is."
"I trust myself." You said, your tone turning stubborn. "And I trust you to be there for me if something does go wrong."
His eyes softened for just a moment before hardening again. "You shouldn't have to count on me to save you. You should listen to me before it gets to that point."
You shrugged, offering him a small, almost apologetic smile. "But where's the fun in that?"
"Y/n." He said sharply, stepping closer so you could see the anger and hurt in his eyes. "I'm not kidding. This isn't a game. If you go with him, I don't know if I'll be able to protect you. I don't know if I'll even see you again."
Your chest tightened at the raw emotion in his voice, but you kept your expression light. "You're being dramatic again. I'll be fine Haechan. I promise."
He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face as if trying to find some crack in your confidence. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're impossible, you know that? If anything happens to you—"
"Nothing's going to happen." You interrupted, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "I'll be fine. You'll see."
He didn't look convinced, but he finally stepped back, letting you go. "Just... don't forget what I said." He said quietly, pulling you into a long hug.
"I won't." You said holding him tightly, offering him one last smile before heading back to Jaemin.
As you walked away, you couldn't shake the nagging feeling that Haechan might be right—and that your stubbornness might cost you more than you were willing to admit. ══════════════════════════
At first, Jaemin's house felt almost like a dream. The kind of dream that was too extravagant to be real. He gave you the best room, stocked it with things he said he'd noticed you liked—your favorite snacks, clothes that fit perfectly, and books you'd mentioned in passing. The fridge was always full, the view from the balcony was breathtaking, and Jaemin himself was, well, everything you thought he'd be: charming, attentive, even affectionate.
For a while, it was easy to forget Haechan's warnings, but as the weeks passed little things started to feel... off.
It began with Jaemin's schedule. He started coming home later and later, offering vague excuses about "business." When you asked for more details, he'd give you a pointed look and a dismissive, "Don't worry about it."
Then there were the boundaries—ones you didn't even realize he'd set until you accidentally crossed them.
One day, you'd decided to take a walk around the neighborhood, needing some fresh air. When you got back, Jaemin was waiting for you in the living room, his posture unnerving.
"Where were you?" He asked, his tone calm but cold.
"Just outside." You said, shrugging. "I needed some fresh air."
"Next time, tell me first." He said, his voice dangerously quiet.
You blinked. "I didn't think it was a big deal—"
"It is." He interrupted, his eyes locking on yours. "You don't leave this house without telling me. Understood?"
The weight of his stare made your stomach twist, but you nodded. "Ok."
After that, things escalated.
One evening, you had gotten a call from Haechan. He wanted to check in, to make sure you were okay. Jaemin walked in while you were still on the phone, and the look on his face made your blood run cold.
"Who was that?" He asked once you hung up.
"Haechan." You said honestly. "He just wanted to see how I was doing."
Jaemin didn't say anything at first, but the tension in the room was suffocating. Finally, he leaned against the counter, his gaze sharp.
"You don't need to talk to him anymore." He said flatly.
You frowned. "What? Why not? He's my friend."
"Not anymore." Jaemin said, his voice calm but firm. "You're with me now. You don't need him."
"Jaemin, you can't just—"
"I can." He cut you off. "And I am. If you're going to be here, you follow my rules. No Haechan."
You stared at him, your heart pounding. "This is ridiculous."
"Is it?" He asked, stepping closer. "Or are you just too stubborn to admit that I know what's best for you?"
The way he towered over you, his eyes dark, made your throat tighten. You wanted to argue, to push back, but something in his demeanor stopped you.
From then on, Jaemin's behavior grew more controlling. He wanted to know where you were at all times, who you were talking to, what you were doing. If you questioned him, his responses ranged from smooth and manipulative to outright threatening.
"You're lucky I'm patient with you." He'd say with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Most people wouldn't tolerate this kind of behavior."
Or, "I'm keeping you safe. You don't realize how dangerous things could get if you don't listen to me."
Every time you thought about leaving, Jaemin's words echoed in your mind. "Where would you go? Back to Haechan? Do you think he'd be able to protect you from me? From the people I know?"
He said it so casually, but the threat was clear.
One night, you sat alone in your room, staring out at the city lights. You felt like a bird in a gilded cage—trapped, isolated, and unsure of how you'd gotten here. Haechan's warnings played on a loop in your head, and for the first time, you started to wonder if he'd been right all along. ══════════════════════════
Jaemin was in an unusually good mood when he walked into the room that evening. His face lit up with a rare excitement.
"Get dressed." He said, his tone almost playful. "We're having a dinner tonight."
You looked up from the book you were pretending to read, your heart sinking. "A dinner? With who?"
"Someone important." He said, brushing off your question with a wave of his hand. "Wear something nice. I want you to look stunning."
That familiar unease settled in your chest. Jaemin's version of "important" usually meant trouble, but you didn't argue. Instead, you forced a smile and got up, heading to the closet to find something appropriate.
An hour later, you found yourself sitting in a private dining room of an upscale restaurant, your nerves on edge. Across from you sat a man Jaemin introduced as Jeno, a name that didn't mean anything to you, but clearly held weight with Jaemin.
Jeno was polished, with a sharp suit and a demeanor that put you on edge. He and Jaemin chatted easily, their conversation littered with inside jokes and references to "opportunities" and "potential".
"So." Jaemin said suddenly, turning to you with a wide smile. "I've been telling Jeno about you. He's impressed."
You blinked, caught off guard. "Impressed with what?"
"With your adaptability." Jaemin said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "And your loyalty. Those are rare qualities."
Jeno nodded, his gaze piercing. "Jaemin speaks highly of you. That's not something he does often."
You offered a polite smile, but your palms were sweating. Something about the way they were both looking at you made you feel like a pawn in a game you didn't understand.
After dessert, Jaemin finally got to the point. "Jeno has a proposition for us." He said, his tone casual but his eyes glinting with something sharper. "An opportunity to make more money than we've ever dreamed of. Filthy rich."
Jeno chuckled, raising his glass in agreement.
"But it's not something we can do here," Jaemin continued, his gaze fixed on you. "We would have to move. Start fresh in a different country. Somewhere far from all of this."
Your stomach dropped. "Move? Where?"
"Europe, most likely." Jeno said, his voice smooth. "The details are still being finalized, but it's an opportunity you wouldn't want to miss."
You forced a laugh, trying to mask your growing unease. "This sounds... big."
"It is." Jaemin said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "It's everything we've been working toward. This could change our lives Y/n."
Your heart was pounding, but you nodded along, not trusting yourself to say anything else.
That night, back at the house you couldn't hold it in anymore.
"You can't be serious about this." You said as Jaemin poured himself a drink.
He glanced at you, his expression already stiffening. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because it's insane." You said, your voice rising. "Moving our lives, moving to a different country... It's too much."
"It's not too much." He said, his tone sharp. "It's a chance to have everything we've ever wanted."
"Everything you've ever wanted." You corrected, crossing your arms. "You didn't even ask me if I wanted this."
Jaemin slammed his glass down on the counter, making you jump. "What do you think this has all been for? The late nights, the risks, the sacrifices? Do you think I'm doing this just for me?"
"I don't know Jaemin." You said, your voice trembling. "Sometimes it feels like you don't care what I want."
He took a step closer, his gaze dark. "You don't know what you want. That's the problem. You're scared of taking risks, of stepping out of your comfort zone, but I'm not. I see the bigger picture, and I'm trying to bring you along with me."
"I'm not scared." You shot back, though your voice lacked conviction.
"Then prove it." He said, his voice softening slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. "Trust me. I've never steered you wrong before, have I?"
You hesitated, your mind racing.
Jaemin's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your heart ache. "I'm doing this for us." He said, his voice low and persuasive. "I want to build a life with you. Don't you want that too?"
Your defenses faded under the weight of his words and the intensity of his gaze. You wanted to believe him, to trust that he had your best interests at heart.
"Ok." You said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do it."
A slow satisfied smile spread across his face. "That's my girl."
But as he pulled you into his arms, a pit of unease settled in your stomach. ══════════════════════════ The Europe deal was finalized. Jaemin had been talking about it all morning, logistics and plans, leaving no room for hesitation. His excitement was infectious, but you couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort in your chest.
As he left to finalize more details with Jeno, you stood in the lavish bedroom he had claimed as yours and stared at your phone. It was time. You had texted Haechan.
"Can you come over?"
It took a moment before the three dots appeared on the screen.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?"
You hesitated. Telling him the truth felt too dangerous, but you couldn't lie to him either.
"I'm fine. Just come. I'll send the address."
"I'm on my way. Don't ring the doorbell? Got it, but you're scaring me."
You smiled faintly, shaking your head. That was so like Haechan—always worrying about you, always trying to fix things.
The minutes ticked by slowly after you sent him the address. Your heart pounded in your chest, equal parts excitement and dread. You knew Jaemin would be dangerous if you didn't execute things right, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, it was time.
When you finally heard the soft knock on the balcony door, you exhaled sharply and hurried over to open it. Haechan stepped inside, his eyes immediately scanning your face.
"You scared me." He said, his voice low but firm. "Why did you call me here?"
You didn't answer right away. Instead, you grabbed his wrist and led him deeper into the room, shutting the door firmly behind you.
"Y/n, talk to me. You stopped talking to me before, so why now?" He urged, his brows furrowed.
Before you could answer, you both froze. The sound of heavy footsteps thundered down the hall, followed by the unmistakable voice of Jaemin.
"Y/n?" His tone was sharp, suspicious. You could hear the anger simmering beneath it. "What the hell is going on in there? Open the door."
Haechan's eyes widened, but you simply smiled, reaching up to lock the door.
"Y/n." Jaemin growled from the other side, rattling the handle. "Open this door right now."
"Sit down." You murmured to Haechan, your tone almost playful.
"What?!" He hissed, his panic barely contained.
"Sit down." You repeated, your hand on his chest as you pushed him gently back onto the bed.
"Y/n, I swear to God, if you don't open this door—" Jaemin's voice rose, his fist banging against the wood.
You ignored him entirely, your focus solely on Haechan. His eyes darted nervously to the door, but when your lips met his, all his resistance melted away.
"Are you seriously doing this right now?" He whispered against your lips, his voice a mix of disbelief and desire.
"I missed you." You murmured, climbing onto his lap, feeling the warmth radiate from his body.
The banging on the door grew louder, Jaemin's voice a scream now. "Y/n, I'm not playing games with you. Open this damn door!"
But you didn't care. For the first time in months, you felt free.
"Y/n, I don't think this is the time. We have to get out of here." Haechan muttered, a hint of concern lacing his words.
"Do you not miss me too?" You asked, your voice soft, yet teasing as you pushed him down onto his back, your body hovering over him.
"Of course I miss you." He responded, his breath hitching as he gazed into your eyes.
"Then shut up and kiss me." You replied, your heart racing as you leaned in, capturing his lips with yours once more.
When his lips met yours, it was as if the world outside ceased to exist. The frantic knocking and Jaemin's angry shouts faded into the background.
Haechan wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you as close as he could. You fumbled with the button of his jeans, unzipping them with trembling fingers as your lips remained locked together, lost in each other.
With a swift motion, you pulled down his pants and underwear, and he mirrored your actions, shedding your own clothes in a flurry of urgency and desire.
He sat up, holding you securely in his lap as you sank down onto him, both of you letting out a long awaited moan that lingered in the air.
"Fuck, I miss you so much." He whimpered, breaking the kiss to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, eyes filled with a mix of passion and lust.
"I missed you too baby. I told you I'd be fine." You smiled, leaning into him again, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.
As you began to move, the moans that escaped your lips grew louder, a deliberate tease for Jaemin outside, who was still banging on the door.
"I'm almost there." You moaned, breaking the kiss and resting your head in the crook of his neck, feeling the tension coil tightly in your stomach as you clenched around him.
"Me too." He whispered, his voice strained with pleasure. He held you tightly as you both rode out your highs together, lost in a world that was just the two of you.
In that moment, nothing else mattered—no angry knocks, no outside world—just the intoxicating connection between you and Haechan. ══════════════════════════
"Haechan, you have to go." You whispered, removing yourself from on top of him.
"Y/n, this is insane." He whispered fiercely, his eyes wide with fear and frustration. "We need to leave together. He's going to kill you!"
You stepped closer to him, your hands brushing his as you looked into his panicked eyes. "No Haechan. You need to leave. Go to the casino and wait for me there. I'll handle this."
"Handle this? Y/n, you're not listening! You can't face Jaemin alone!" His voice cracked as he spoke with despair.
You placed a hand on his cheek, trying to calm him. "I know you're scared. I am too, but I need you to trust me ok? I've got this."
His jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. "Let me be the one to face him. Please. If anyone's going to take the risk—"
"No." You cut him off firmly. "This is my fight Haechan. I need you to leave now. If you stay, you'll only make things worse."
He stared at you, his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Fine, but if you're not at the casino in an hour I'm coming back for you. I mean it."
You gave him a small reassuring smile. "I'll be there."
Reluctantly he climbed over the balcony railing, glancing back at you one last time before disappearing.
You turned back to the door, unlocking it and stepping aside just as Jaemin stormed in, his eyes full of fury. He scanned the room quickly, his gaze snapping to you.
"Where is he?" He demanded, his voice low.
"He's gone." You said calmly, crossing your arms.
Jaemin's expression darkened, and in a swift motion, he pulled a gun from the back of his waistband, pointing it directly at you.
"Don't lie to me." He growled.
Your heart pounded, but you didn't flinch. Instead, you stepped forward, closing the gap between you and the barrel of the gun. "Shoot me then." You said, your voice steady.
Jaemin's hand trembled, the gun shaking slightly as he stared at you in disbelief. "You think I won't?"
"I think you won't." You said, your eyes locked on his. "Because you need me."
For a moment, he stood frozen, the weight of your words sinking in. Then with a frustrated growl he lowered the gun, tossing it onto a nearby chair.
"Why do you always have to make things so difficult?" He snapped, running a hand through his hair. "I'm trying to protect you—to take care of you. Don't you see that?"
You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. "Protect me? Jaemin the only person you care about protecting is yourself. All of this—Europe, the business—it's not about us. It's about you and your greed."
"You're wrong." He insisted, stepping closer. His voice softened, dripping with fake sincerity. "We could have everything together Y/n. Power, money, freedom. Just say yes and I'll give you the world."
But weren't falling for it. You stepped back, your expression cold. "No Jaemin. Here's what's going to happen. You're going to Europe, transfer all your assets to the casino and you're signing it over to Haechan."
His face twisted in anger. "Do you think I'm stupid? Do you really think I'd give everything up because you asked me to?"
He stepped closer, his tone turning darker. "If you think you can threaten me you're wrong. I'll kill you, and Haechan too."
You smirked, unbothered by his threats. "You won't touch either of usJaemin. Because if anything happens to me, there are people who will make sure you pay for it. Dirty cops, powerful people. They'll come for you—and only you."
His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. "You're bluffing."
"Am I?" You challenged. "Go ahead. Try me. You'll find out just how serious I am."
For the first time, Jaemin hesitated, the confidence in his demeanor fading. He stared at you, his mind clearly racing.
"You're lucky I'm keeping you alive." You said, your voice low and sharp. "Because you didn't have the decency to do the same."
His brows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"
You tilted your head, your smirk growing. "Do you seriously not remember my face?"
Jaemin's expression froze. For a moment, his mask slipped, and you saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes, but just as quickly he composed himself, his lips curling into a bitter smile.
"I don't know how I could forget." He said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Guess I didn't look that deep in your eyes."
You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "Well, you should've because now those eyes are the last thing you'll ever underestimate."
Jaemin's smirk fell, and for the first time, you felt the power shift entirely into your hands. ══════════════════════════
The casino buzzed with its usual energy, but all eyes turned to the center of the room when Jaemin strode in with you at his side. He walked with purpose, his expression a mix of authority and resignation. The usual crowd. Mark, Haechan, Jisung, Chenle, paused their work to watch as Jaemin climbed onto the small stage at the front of the room.
"I have an announcement to make." Jaemin began, his voice carrying across the space. "I am resigning and stepping away from the business. I'll be signing over the casino to Haechan, and after today you'll never see me again."
The room erupted in stunned murmurs. Jisung's jaw dropped, Chenle stared in disbelief, and Haechan blinked rapidly, trying to process what he just heard.
"You're signing it over to me?" Haechan asked.
Jaemin nodded. "Yes. I've decided that you're the best fit to take over."
Haechan shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't want it. Mark deserves it more than anyone. He's the one who's been running this place while the rest of us deal with... other things."
Mark's eyes widened. "Haechan...what?"
"You're the one who works the hardest." Haechan insisted. "This place wouldn't even function without you. You should take it."
Jaemin turned to you, his brows knitting together. "What do you think?"
You gave a small shrug, your expression calm. "That's fine with me."
Without further argument, Jaemin stepped down and signed the paperwork to transfer permanent ownership to Mark. The room was silent as he set down the pen and turned to face everyone.
"Guess that's it." Jaemin said, his voice tinged with something like relief. He looked at you, his smirk returning. "Can I at least get a kiss goodbye princess?"
You walked up to him, leaning in as if you were going to fulfill his request. Instead you whispered in his ear. "Fuck you." Before planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Stepping back, you waved with an exaggerated flourish.
"Goodbye Jaemin. Don't come back."
Jaemin chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're a piece of work." With that he turned and left the casino, disappearing into the night for good.
Mark looked dazed, clutching the paperwork like he couldn't believe what just happened.
Haechan rushed to you, pulling you into a tight hug. "You're okay, I can't believe you pulled this off. How did you even do it?"
Chenle leaned against the counter, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, what did you do? Spill."
You gave him a sly smile. "That's a secret."
Jisung shrugged. "That's fine. We're just glad you're back."
The group laughed, but the mood shifted when you cleared your throat. "Actually... I'm going back home."
The laughter stopped, and everyone stared at you.
"What?" Haechan asked, his voice low.
"I need to get away from all this." You said softly. "It's been... a lot. I just need some time to figure things out."
The room was quiet for a moment before Mark nodded. "We get it. You've been through so much. You deserve to take care of yourself."
Everyone murmured their agreement, but Haechan looked crushed. "You're leaving again? Y/n come on. You dropped out of school anyway—why not stay? Stay with me."
You gave him a small smile, touching his arm. "I need to do this Haechan. Please understand."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine, but we're driving to your apartment to get your stuff. I'm not letting you leave without spending time with you first."
You grinned. "Deal, but... can I drive your car?"
He raised an eyebrow. "You want to drive my car?"
"Yeah." You said grinning.
He hesitated, then handed you the keys with a playful eye roll. "Fine, don't crash it."
The drive to your apartment was smooth, the atmosphere between you and Haechan lighter than it had been in days. Once inside, the two of you collapsed onto the couch, the worry finally melting away.
Haechan leaned back, looking at you curiously. "Wait... How did you know how to get to the casino by yourself? I mean yeah, we've driven there a lot, but you can't even remember how to get to my place half the time."
Your smile fell for a moment, and you shifted in your seat. "If I tell you the truth, don't get mad, ok?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, a teasing edge to his voice. "What did you do Y/n?" ══════════════════════════
The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Haechan stared at you from the couch, his brows furrowed with curiosity and confusion.
You took a deep breath, suddenly feeling the weight of the secret you'd carried for so long. You sat next to him, avoiding his gaze as you started.
"When I was 18 I lived in another state with my parents." You began, your voice soft but steady. "They were... rich. Very rich, but it wasn't clean money. They were involved in something shady, but they never told me what it was. I didn't ask—I didn't want to know."
Haechan's expression softened as he listened, sensing the shift in your tone.
"One night, I was in my room when I heard gunshots. I froze, I didn't know what to do. I peeked out of my door, and... I saw them. My parents lying there on the floor... dead."
Haechan's eyes widened, and his hand instinctively reached for yours.
"There were three men." You continued. "They were cleaning up the mess, moving things around, making it look like it didn't happen there, and then I saw him. The one in charge, and I remember his face so clearly... Jaemin."
He leaned back stunned. "Jaemin?"
You nodded. "I'll never forget that face. The way he looked so calm, so... collected. He even sat at my large family photo, looked at us smiling together and didn't care. I didn't know what to do so I ran. I left the state, and I spent months trying to figure out who he was and what my parents were involved in. That's how I found out about the underground casino."
Haechan stayed silent, his jaw tightening as he processed your words.
"I found out where it was and applied to a college nearby. I needed to get close to Jaemin, but I couldn't just walk into his life. So, I went to the casino to check it out. At first, I thought I had the wrong place. It looked like an ordinary gas station."
You gave a small, bitter laugh. "I was ready to call the cops and let them handle it, but then... by pure chance. I saw someone leaving through the back behind the beaded curtains... I saw you."
Haechan stiffened, realization dawning on him. "Wait... me?"
You nodded again. "I recognized you later at school. We had classes together, and I knew if I wanted in, I had to get close to you. So, I told you this elaborate story about being broke and needing money for tuition. I even thought you'd get suspicious because of my nice apartment, but you didn't. You felt sorry for me, and you trusted me. That's when you introduced me to the casino— you were my way in."
He blinked, his expression a mix of hurt and disbelief. "So... you used me."
"It wasn't like that." You said quickly, placing a hand on his arm. "At first yes, it was about Jaemin. The plan was always to take him down, but then I got to know you. I started to care about you a lot."
Haechan's jaw tightened, but he didn't pull away. "What's going to happen to Jaemin?"
"When he gets to Europe, he's going to be arrested. I've been working with people—dirty cops, private investigators. I made sure that he'll be broke, with no way to come back here or rebuild. Everyone here will be fine. The business is safe, and so are you."
Haechan looked down, shaking his head. "You planned all of this... from the beginning?"
"Yes." You admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "I had to. He destroyed my family. But I promise you... I never meant to hurt you."
He was silent for a long moment before finally looking at you. "So what now? You're just... leaving?"
"I have to." You said softly. "This isn't my world. I've done what I needed to do. I need to go back home, to where I belong. But..." You hesitated, looking into his eyes. "If you want... you could come with me."
Haechan's eyes widened. "You're serious?"
"I'm serious." You said with a small smile. "Come with me, stay with me. We can leave all of this behind and start over."
He let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as he processed your words. "Ok." He said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Let's go."
The two of you packed up your things, leaving behind the chaos of the casino and everything it represented. Weeks later, you found yourselves in your home state, in a house far removed from the shadows of your past.
Haechan stood on the balcony, looking out at the peaceful view. "You know." He said, glancing back at you, "I never thought I'd end up here— with you."
You smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Me neither, but I'm glad we did."
He turned to you, his expression serious. "No more secret ok?"
"No more secrets." You promised.
And for the first time in a long time, you both felt free.
══════════════════════════
mafiadad5
#nct x reader#nct smut#nct#nct fanfic#nct dream smut#nct dream x reader#nct jaemin#jaemin smut#na jaemin#jaemin#haechan x reader#nct haechan smut#haechan smut#nct haechan#haechan#nct angst#haechan angst#jaemin angst#nct dream#nct fic#bjnet
440 notes
·
View notes
Text
GHOSTS OF THE PAST (Batfam x neglected hero reader)
I 𓂃› GHOSTS
Warning: neglect (unintentional), Damian being Damian, violence, blood, swearing, sensitive topics, writing errors (English is not my first language) and reader has black hair and blue eyes (sorry),Fem reader!, I accept criticism but please don't be rude, everything is fictional!
You consider yourself a good son
I mean, you were never a saint, there were times when you did stupid things and got into trouble with her, but you always managed to solve them. But apparently the universe decided that you weren't good enough.
Not for your family at least.
You were just another product of your father's affair, the only difference is that you were born (something that wasn't supposed to happen) but that's okay! Your mother still loved you and took care of you with all the love she had to offer.
She never spoke openly about your father, but you saw on TV the news about your mother, the great writer from Gotham, with the businessman Bruce Wayne. You were always smart and quickly connected the dots but you didn't question your mother because she was clearly uncomfortable, so you kept quiet and let it go, because you didn't need him. You already had your mother, you already had your uncles, even your little friends from school! You don't need your father.
That is until she died.
It was when you were four years old, you had gone to the market to buy things for dinner and on the way a criminal tried to steal them, your mother trying to protect you ended up with a bullet in the chest, you remember little, but you remember that he ran away while your mother died in front of you. After that you thought you were going to be sent to an orphanage, believe your surprise when your father came to take you home. The first time you saw him you were surprised by how much alike you were: same hair, same eyes, your face was really your mother's, but your skin was his, you were a perfect mix of your mother and your father, at the time you loved it but now... you are not so sure.
When you arrived at the mansion, you met your half-siblings. You were so excited. You always wanted a sibling, since you spent a lot of time alone. The possibility of having siblings made you very happy. The first was Dick: a bright smile and the sunshine of the family. Dick was friendly with you and at least bothered to ask a little about you, like your age or when your birthday was. But the next day, he completely forgot about you. Even though he lived in Bludhaven, he visited the mansion often. Of all your siblings, you felt the most excluded by him. While he said that family was the most important thing, he ignored you. Maybe it wasn't intentional, but what's the point of apologizing for not being there if you don't change anything?
The second was Tim: the Robin of the time. Tim was just... Tim, he was never that neglectful with you, but he didn't try to get closer either. He had no opinion for you. You would say that Tim was observant, quiet, and cold. He would help you if he saw that you needed help, the problem was that he was never there, so he never had time for you (like everyone else).
The third was Jason: in your opinion he was your favorite, Jason was the one in the house who gave you some attention. It wasn't always, but when he came to the mansion he really cared about asking about you.
"Why are you so skinny?" "Are you doing well in your studies?" "Is someone bothering you, brat?" and things like that. Jason wasn't that close but he was never distant either, that's why he was your favorite, but just like Tim he was never there when you needed him, since he couldn't stay at the mansion much (you believe that part of the blame is Bruce).
Then came the rest of your siblings, Barbara was always busy like Bruce and Dick, Cassandra and Stephanie weren't interested in you, and Duke never exchanged more than two or three words with you.
And then to top it all off came Damian: your younger brother. You thought that even though Damian was Al Grul's (trained to kill and all) maybe, just maybe, you two could have a good relationship.
Oh, how terribly wrong you were.
And you realized it the moment Damian almost cut your throat with his sword. That day Damian was reprimanded by Bruce while Dick was taking care of his neck, from what you understood Damian thought he needed to kill you to become Robin.
You, a civilian, almost wanted to laugh at his presumption that you could be a vigilante when you couldn't even lift your backpack properly. After that day you didn't get close to Damian again, the fear of him doing something to you terrified you to the core. Damian realized it, you knew it by the looks he gave you, but whether it was pride or shame he never apologized to you.
Bruce never had time for you, wrapped up in work and as Batman his time was precious and he had to spend it on what was necessary, and you understood that.
You understood all of them.
But...it still hurt.
It hurt your soul a lot.
That's why you stopped trying to impress them, stopped enrolling in classes they liked just to get their attention, stopped bothering them to get some family time. You gave up, simple as that, the family didn't care, probably not even knowing about it.
There was Alfred, who probably spent the most time with you, acting like a grandfather. But Alfred is also Bruce's butler and the sidekick to Gotham's heroes, he couldn't spend all his time with you either (you accepted that, it was okay).
But sometimes there were rare moments that happened, moments when they cared, when you saw a little bit of love from them towards you.
Like when Jason gave you one of his sweatshirts for your birthday, one that you really liked (you still wear it to this day, it's still too big on you).Or when you didn't have a partner for your history project since no one was your friend, so Dick and Tim spent half the night helping you with it. Or when school bullies beat you up, you went back to the mansion (which was empty) with a black eye, just so Damian could see you. By some miracle, you convinced him not to tell Bruce, thinking that the matter had died there, you went back to your room only for Damian to knock on your door in the middle of the night and give you a pair of brass knuckles for you to use next time (you never used them, but knowing that he cared was comforting).
I think the most important of these moments was when Bruce showed up at your elementary school graduation. Thanks to your mother, you were more gifted than the others, advancing a few years in school, making you finish school before your age. Imagine: a pre-teen in the middle of almost adults with other adults looking at you (it's desperate) but you saw him, Bruce Wayne together with Alfred looking at you for the first time. He didn't stay until the end, but he was still there, he was there for you.
That's why you hated them.
How dare they? Play with your heart like that, giving you hope that maybe you could be a normal family, a happy family. You hated that, you hated having hope, you hated that they cared and then left you aside.
And what you hate the most is that every time you fall for their talk.
That's why you're taking some time for yourself, far away from them at your aunt's house. In two weeks it will be your fourteenth birthday and you decided this time to spend it with your aunt, to try to forget about your life in Gotham with your family (besides, it had been years since you saw her, it was time to get over the longing).
You told her well in advance, already planning it since the beginning of the month, so now at the train station you didn't feel any worries as you got on the bus.
You didn't tell your family, they wouldn't even care, you just told Alfred so that the poor man wouldn't have a heart attack if he didn't see you in the room.
Maybe if you had told them, this wouldn't have happened.
Dick loves his family.
No matter how many problems they have, he will always love them, family is everything to him.
So why these days has he felt like he's forgetting something?
Was it training with Damian? No, that was for tomorrow, maybe patrol with Bruce? That was impossible to forget, could there have been something with Tim? He doesn't remember his brother asking him for something, maybe Cass? She said a friend was going to have his birthday-
birthday.
(Name's) birthday.
The realization hit him like a train, that was it! His birthday, he had completely forgotten about it, when will it be? If he remembers, will it be in two weeks? You're going to be-
How old are you again?
No, that's absurd, he knows how old you are, he would be stupid not to. You must be twelve? No! Thirteen? But he doesn't remember your thirteenth birthday.
In fact, he doesn't remember any of your birthdays.
Okay, maybe he doesn't remember now, but he was definitely there for your birthday, he's your big brother! Why wouldn't he be?
Okay, he decided that as soon as he finished patrolling with the rest of the family he would talk to everyone about it.
As he jumped between the rooftops his phone vibrated loudly, but he didn't bother to look at it, he would check it later.
Hurry up Dick, before it's too late.
Tim was monitoring the batcave today, helping with location and crimes remotely. Today would be a normal patrol, too calm. Tim hated these patrols, too calm and preparing for the storm.
This time a hurricane would come and no one would be prepared.
The first to arrive was Jason, who came just to help with the investigation of a particular case. He leaned on the table next to Tim and watched the cameras and sensors on the television he controlled. The second was Bruce and Damian. Bruce went to talk to Alfred and Damian went to the table in the center where Tim's phone was. Tim, listening to Dick's message, who was near the mansion, almost didn't hear the youngest Wayne talking.
"Someone's calling you." Tim looked at Damian, who turned on his phone. Without worrying, he went back to the computer. "I can answer later." Damian apparently wasn't satisfied and turned on the phone only to see that the flames were his, his name engraved on the screen. "It's our sister's." "Cass's?"
"(Name's)" Now that caught Jason's attention. He looked at the youngest Wayne. For some reason, a bad feeling took over him, the same feeling that something bad was going to happen. "Oh, that's it. I'm kind of busy here. Can you see what she wants for me?"
Grimacing, Damian would have put the phone down, but something inside him told him to check, to check, so he picked up the phone and unlocked it to find over twenty missed calls from him “oh my”
“What’s wrong?” Bruce approached the boys, having vaguely heard the conversation. “There are over twenty calls and at least fifteen messages” now that really caught everyone’s attention.
“What?” Jason answered for everyone, breaking the silence that settled in the room, but Damian didn’t bother to answer, instead going to the messages, he was going to go through them when a word caught his attention.
Help
Just with that the bad feeling inside Damian grew, his behavior changing and showing the others that the matter was serious “Oh shit."
“What’s going on” Dick finally arrived, only to find the tense atmosphere in the room, as he walked Damian went through the messages finding words like “help” “help” “invaded” and “bus”
“Damian what happened” he opened the voicemail, seeing many of them only in the last hour, he put it on maximum volume for him and the others to hear.
"T-Tim please pick up" your voice came out shaky, low almost in a whisper and desolate, full of fear "I-I... I tried calling Dick a-and even Bruce" the sobs of your voice were restricted by your mouth, sighing heavily a bang was heard on the other end startling you "I-I need help... p-please" and so the voicemail ended
“The mansion was invaded?!” Jason didn’t ask anyone in particular, but Tim went to see the footage of the mansion for the last few hours anyway. “No, no one came into the house.”
“Where is she?” Dick was quick to pick up the phone, just like Damian, he came across at least twenty voicemails for him. To get attention, Alfred coughed lightly and automatically everyone’s heads turned in his direction. “Master (Name) went out to spend her birthday with her aunt who lives in New York.”
And that’s how chaos exploded.
The next minute, everyone’s voices echoed through the cave. “What?!” “What do you mean?!” “When did she tell you that!?” Bruce replied as he walked towards Tim’s computer. “She didn’t tell you anything, Alfred, why didn’t you tell me?”
Alfred looked at his master, almost exploding at such stupidity, he knew Bruce didn't have time for you but he also made it clear that he didn't care about you, it was no surprise that you hadn't even warned him before, but respecting you (and master Bruce) he answered. "Master (Name) thought it wasn't necessary, he told me only if you gentlemen asked for her." Tim went back to the computer, now not scanning the streets of Gotham, but looking for you, Dick scrolled through the voicemail and clicked on the most recent one, made 15 minutes ago, his voice once again filled the air making everyone hear you.
This time the line started in silence, only your agitated breathing being heard, it is possible to hear a whisper much quieter than before on the line "Dick please, I-I... I beg p-please, please, p-please, p-please, please-" you were silenced by the noise of something near you, your breathing was weak, footsteps echoed wherever you were, you approached the phone and whispered into the cell phone "save me" when you finished speaking voices approached and then a scream came from you, your phone fell somewhere far from you but even so it was possible to hear your screams and your fight for the cell phone until the line finally ended
“Holy shit…” tension built up in the room, the family was completely stunned by the line, Jason was the first to go looking for him, Dick tried to stop him but he went looking for him too, Damian and Bruce left soon after and Tim went back to his computer at full speed.
They need to find you, Now!
But it was too late
“Tim tell me you found her” Jason shouted on the line as he moved with Dick, the two of them as well as the rest were moving at each of the bus stops to look for their route, the result was nothing.
Tim huffed on the line, irritated with his brother. “If you stopped asking me every two minutes maybe I would find her”
“Your-”
“Enough fighting! That’s not the focus right now” Dick said to Jason and Tim, although his harsh tone gave him away showing how exasperated he was. “Our focus is to find (Name)” Jason looked ahead accepting his brother, they had to find her, he needed to.
Jason wouldn’t forgive himself if his sister died.
“I found her!” Tim shouted excitedly, the spark of hope on his face until he saw the bus where he was “oh no” his heart started beating faster, fear started to settle in his body, but he remained paralyzed without being able to move.
“Tim? Tim, what happened? Tim saw on the computer the image of his bus fallen to the ground, with fire gathering around it. The red robin could only move when he heard Bruce's voice. With his fingers shaking, Tim sent the image of the accident to each person's cell phone.
Bruce could feel his heart beating out of his chest, the sight of the bus lying on the ground, burned and destroyed was enough to make his heart stop, Damian was in no different situation, all he could think about was your face, scared and afraid of him.
He wanted to see you.
Everyone wanted to see you, but it was too late.
The hurricane passed and destroyed everything
“This morning, news shook all of Gotham, a bus destined for New York was intentionally unloaded in the middle of the road. In total, of the twenty-two passengers, five were injured and seven were kidnapped, among those kidnapped was the second youngest daughter of the great businessman Bruce Wayne, (Name) Wayne, the police are investigating the case-” the television was turned off by Jason, who threw the remote control hard on the couch, now with all the brothers gathered (Barbara, Cass, Stephanie and Duke there too) they were waiting for news from Bruce, who went to a press conference to speak at home with Alfred. Dick, trying to calm his brother, approached him and put his hand on his shoulder “Jason, we're going to find her-”
“Are we going to find her? She might be dead now!” Jason said without thinking, but the mood in the room dropped even more than it already was. Both the guilt and the despair of losing you were what terrified not only Jason, but everyone in that room.
“She’s not dead.” Damian was the one who calmed the situation, approaching the two of them. “You saw it yourself, she was taken, but she’s alive.”
“And who can guarantee that she’s not dead, huh, demon?” The youngest Wayne narrowed his eyes. Jason was right too. Who can guarantee that she’s not already dead? Who can guarantee that she’s not already six feet under, buried?
“(Name) isn’t dead.” Bruce and Alfred entered the mansion. Wayne’s suit was all wrinkled, but he didn’t care. Maybe it was because he had more important things to worry about. “She isn’t dead, and we’re going to find her.”
“Even if it’s just her corpse.”
Oh, okay that was a lot of work to do, enjoy.
@bunbunboysworld - @h-ib - @sheep-from-rad - @tatsuri-zomushiki - @the-holy-pigeon - @geminis93
Tchau.
#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader#dc x reader#alfred pennyworth#batfam#batfamily#bruce wayne#damian wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#batfam x neglected reader#Batfam
958 notes
·
View notes
Text
title: ghosted pairing: seungcheol x f!reader wc: 6.1k, mature/18+ only! tags: based on this drabble. porn with a considerable amount of plot, fwb to lovers, rich guy!cheol, yn is able to be picked up. horrible terrible excessive amounts of fluff. smut tags below the cut. everyone say thank you to @wuahae for reading this over :)
smut tags: softdom!cheol, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), spanking/biting, yn has hair that can get pulled, mild ass play, boob stuff, fingers in mouth.
--
you think you have seungcheol's number memorized.
well, you definitely should have by now, with how many times you considered deleting it. instead you ended up changing his contact name, first to seungcheol club, which is where you met him. second time--rebound guy. the third iteration, your roommate had made it DO NOT TEXT, and you had left it like that because she was probably right anyway.
for better or for worse, you are not very good at following instructions. you're two and a half weeks fresh off of a heart-to-heart with your friends where you agreed that no, the best way to get over your ex was to not get under somebody else, and yes, you should absolutely stop sleeping with a guy who brags about being a playboy.
so you deleted his number and your text history, and everyone swore up and down that this was a good thing.
and you're sure you were on the same page as them until about five minutes ago, when you were doing your laundry and you had come across one of his white button-up shirts.
(he let you keep it because he said you looked better in it than he did. that morning, before you left his place, he had buttoned it all the way up for you--don't want anyone else looking at you the way i do, he had said. plus, the amount of hickies he had left behind were in no way presentable to the general public.)
the effect this has on you is instantaneous and humiliating.
"fuck. fuck," you groan, now scrolling through your camera roll to look for literally any screenshot with his number in it.
there's one from back when he was rebound guy--he had sent you ten dollars in apple cash so you could buy a coffee when you said you were too tired to fuck. you ended up coming over that night anyway, and you both watched four hours of law and order until you fell asleep on his couch.
there are a handful from when DO NOT TEXT had sexted you in the middle of the workday, which you kept for posterity and nights alone with your vibrator.
and then, finally, a few weeks before that, when things were simple and he was just an unsaved number in your phone--hey, i know you ran out this morning, but i wanted to let you know i had a great time last night, if you know what i mean. even with the winky face emoji, it was a strangely wholesome text from a first time hookup.
you favorite the screenshot and curse the fact that you have never had good impulse control.
you up? i miss you.
the words fly so fast out of your fingers, you have no time to consider whether or not this is a good idea. you vividly recall the time he told you he had never seen the point of putting a label on a relationship, which was the whole reason your friends staged an intervention in the first place.
still, the white shirt on your bed taunts you. even thinking about it makes your head spin.
yeah. let me send you an uber.
that too--he had money, and he wasn't ashamed to spend it on you. between that and the dick, you don't think you're willing to squander your luck.
besides, seungcheol is still rebound guy. you're still getting over your ex, and he's just a quick fix in the meantime. you tell yourself this, and you keep telling yourself this until you're out the door, without a second chance to tell yourself otherwise.
--
"can't go long without getting your back blown out, huh?"
this is the first thing seungcheol says to you, oblivious to the fact that you were planning on forever ghosting him less than an hour ago.
"as if you didn't answer my text almost immediately," you laugh, letting him help you take your coat off.
"never said i wasn't happy to provide," he replies. his gaze is hot, sticky, like he's forgotten what you've looked like already. "i think it's been almost a month. i thought you got tired of me or something, you know."
"of course not. i...i got busy."
it's a half lie. the other half? you wouldn't dare admit it, but you missed his apartment a little. partly because it's much nicer than your own, but the bachelor pad decor was starting to grow on you. (and maybe the bachelor, with it.)
"work was good today?" you ask, letting him draw you in by the waist. his hands are so warm as he draws them up and down your sides, underneath the cotton of the thin shirt you have on.
"oh, please," seungcheol says, his grin now hovering right over your lips. "don't play innocent. you didn't come here so i could talk about my job."
he's right, so you let him kiss you. it's hot and fast and it tastes like his twenty dollar mouthwash, which you take small pride in because it means he would have been sleeping if his hand wasn't on your ass right now.
seungcheol has never been slow nor patient. your shirt has come off, and he now thumbs at the waistband of your jeans, grasping at the button to undo them.
"i don't think i even know what you look like with pants on," he says, lips dragging against the shell of your ear. "you always dress up when you come here, and it all ends up on the floor. pity."
you feel all the heat in your body surge towards your core. somehow your jeans are already on the floor and seungcheol's palm is fanned over the thin lace of your panties.
"thought about me the whole way here, huh?" two fingers are meanly sat over the seam of your cunt, pressing the damp fabric to your skin. "let yourself get all wet for me on the car ride?"
"maybe," you manage, not wanting to betray the embarrassment in your voice. you don't need his hand there to know how wet you are, and yet you know he's doing it to tease you anyway. he finds the bump of your clit over the fabric, now clingy and warm over your skin, and runs his thumb over it. "what else was i supposed to think about?"
"no need to be shy. can't lie with such a needy pussy." he chuckles as your thighs squeeze helplessly around him. "it's cute."
before you can protest, he pushes your panties to the side, now undoubtably soaked through, and his fingers find your clit again. it just takes two, three, rough strokes to draw the pleasure out of you like a fire in your belly.
"cheol," you whine. somehow things always end up like this--you, almost fully naked, and him, still with all his clothes on. he likes reminding you of it too, now enjoying the way you press against him, searching for skin. instead, you feel his cock under his sweatpants, right up against your thigh, and it only turns you on further.
your hands find his waist, but between the new welt he's sucked into your neck and the paralyzing feeling of his thumb on your clit again and again, you falter. your fingertips hover on the downy hair peeking over the band of his sweats, and you've never ached more to have him inside you.
that's all seungcheol needs to yank you back in line. "bed. now," he says, and you listen.
his apartment is big, and the walk feels dizzying as he follows behind you. what's even worse is that you can feel his eyes rake over you--he loves it. the humiliating stumble of your two left feet, the glistening slick at the apex of your thighs, how your panties cling to your ass, now ruined.
even now, as you clamber onto the bed like you're learning to use your limbs for the first time, he loves how easy you are for him. but you can't help it--no one fucks you as good as he does, and that was the reason he was rebound guy in the first place.
"face me," is his next command. at the foot of the bed, first, he pulls off his shirt, and your eyes wander first to his chest, then to the trail he's got down his stomach, teasing you as he pushes down his sweats.
one of his hands, strong and veiny, disappears under his waistband to play with his cock. you watch the slow flick of his wrist and see the shape of his length underneath the fabric, and you almost start salivating.
you're sure he's punishing you by now.
"you're staring, pretty girl. use your words." a turn of his wrist, and he groans. he might just make himself cum like this, and the notion that it wouldn't be somewhere inside you absolutely shatters the last bit of pride you had left.
"need you in my mouth, cheol," you whine, now sitting up straight against the headboard, as if looking any more pitiful would persuade him to join you.
and he does, just not in the way you want him to. instead, you watch his sweats fall to the ground before he kneels on the edge of the bed, on the end furthest from you.
"what, you think i'm gonna give it to you easy? after you made me wait for you?" you are not thinking straight enough to decipher what this means. who knew ghosting a fuckboy would have actual consequences, but you watch his grip tighten around the fat base of his cock and decide this is not the time to play detective.
so you swallow your pride and all your questions and you crawl. you crawl all the way down the seemingly endless length of his king sized bed, feeling seungcheol's gaze swallow you whole, and you like it.
when you stop at the foot of the bed, you take pause to look at seungcheol, really look at him. his eyes are dark, almost unrecognizably so--maybe it's the way you so readily make yourself perfect for him, arching your back just how he likes and letting your swollen, wet mouth fall open like you've never wanted anything more than him.
"so pretty like this," he coos. he runs a thumb over your bottom lip, feeling it quiver under his skin. you feel the saliva pooling in your mouth; it's as humiliating as it is desperate but you can't help yourself. it feels so good to be touched, and seungcheol's clings to you like nothing else.
he pushes his fingers into your mouth, almost to the back so you choke. you're at the point where you'll take anything, so you suck. you let your tongue run all over the digits, long and calloused enough that you can only dream of having them inside the other half of you. he pushes onto your tongue, wanting you to taste him, and you whimper, the feeling harsh but not unwelcome.
"dumb mouth just needs something in it, huh? my girl will just suck anything?"
you can't talk, so you whine around his fingers, feeling your pussy clench around nothing. he's been playing with his cock with his free hand, forcing you to watch him trace every vein with his own skin instead of yours. you hollow out your cheeks and suck him nice and tight, trying to fool yourself otherwise.
then he laughs, low and quiet--as fun as it is to slut you out, he's never been patient. "open wide, darling." he slides his fingers out from your mouth before pulling your hair out of the way. thank you, you want to say, but it's quickly washed away by the shock of his cock between your lips, rough but never too much so.
god, you didn't even think you liked sucking dick that much, but sleeping with seungcheol for this long must have altered your brain chemistry for the worse. his familiar, heavy warmth sits on your tongue, and you can't help but moan around him. you love the stretch of your jaw, the way his eyes always wrench shut no matter how in control he is.
"fuck," he groans, carding a hand through his hair. "slutty little mouth's made for me."
you hum around him, taking him all the way to where your nose skims the dewy curls on his abdomen and all you know is the scent of his heat. you're drooling so much, thanks to all the fingers in your mouth not too long ago, but you don't care. you run your tongue on the veiny underside of his cock, back and forth, savoring the hurt in your cheeks and all the spit on your chin.
seungcheol makes a low-pitched, strangled noise, the first time you've seen him crack tonight, and it sends another gushy wave of heat to your cunt.
you toy with his slit, let the salt of his precum fill your mouth, and suck hard around his cockhead. your scalp stings wonderfully with how he pulls at your hair, and you lean into the feeling. a deep breath through your nose, and you sink down again. the way he hits the back of your throat makes you yelp pitifully, but you persist like a dog to a bone. again, again, and you're gagging on your own spit as your throat spasms around him and you go cross-eyed.
he's all about control, but he lets you have this--perhaps he likes seeing you give yourself to him without him asking. he doesn't have to lift a finger, and you'll still choke around him, bruise your own throat. surely that had to mean something, but you'll chalk it up to some astrological sexual compatibility you're unaware of at the moment.
"enough," seungcheol finally says, voice gravelly, and he pulls you off him by the hair. "fuck, you probably would've cummed from that alone, huh?"
meanly, he reaches over your back to grab at the strings of your underwear so it digs into your cunt. you cry out, feeling the warmth of arousal leak all over your twitching hole, even between your ass. he's right--any more, and you really might have cummed all over yourself.
" 'm so wet, cheol," you plead, toes curling as he pulls the elastic of your panties further back. "please, please, please."
he releases the band, and it snaps hard against your skin. it feels like electricity as it connects with you, and you cry out again, the noise high-pitched and whoreish.
"gonna need you to face the other way if you want me to fuck you, darling," he says. "my baby likes it best from behind, right?"
you have nothing left in you but insatiable desire. you turn around to face the headboard, still on your hands and knees. seungcheol runs a careful hand down the curve of your spine before landing a hard slap on your ass. your skin sings, and all the blood in your body feels like it's been turned to fire.
"cheol," you warble, pressing your face into the sheets. your pussy actually hurts from how neglected it is, and when the second slap comes down, your clit aches like a bruise. "need you so bad...can't believe i went so long without you."
the words just fall out of you but you think they're true regardless. you were really fooling yourself thinking you could go the rest of your life without this. somewhere deep inside you, in the working part of your brain, you wonder if he's come to the same conclusion. that underneath the show, all the greed and the meanness, he missed you too.
"you must really need to get fucked," seungcheol chuckles. "you've never been this nice to me."
"not true," you protest, muffled by the sheets, and he laughs again. then he peels your underwear down your thighs before spreading your ass underneath his palms, and the cool air makes you twitch under him.
"you smell so fucking good. fuck." he groans, low and desirous, and it's the last thing you register before you feel the swell of his nose, his lips, as he buries his face in your cunt.
it's all too much at once--it rips a squeal out from your chest, one of those slutty, loud ones he loves, and it spurs him on further. you feel the wet pressure of his tongue, first between your folds, then up to the tight ring of your asshole, still messy with your arousal.
"o-oh my god," you cry. the pressure in your belly is now wound tight; you're so, so close and he's barely even started. he seems to know this, and deprives you of his mouth in lieu of his two fingers. the change in sensation is instant and toe-curling. something, anything, is finally inside you, and it's better than anything you have ever known. he drags the pads of his fingers brutally over your g-spot, loving the way you cry and tremble beneath him as your orgasm builds.
"have you had enough, pretty girl?" seungcheol asks, voice cruel, teasing. it's a rhetorical question--before you know it, his fingers are gone, and you instead feel the length of his cock between the curve of your ass. he's got a hand between your shoulder blades, pinning you down, just so he can see you struggle to push yourself against him.
"n-no," you reply, voice catching in your throat. you feel the head of his cock against your slit, and your thighs tremble with anticipation. not good enough. it only takes him a few times, rocking against your cunt, for you to crumble. you ask for things you can't even remember, and it's then when he pushes into you, so meanly you really do forget what words mean.
seungcheol swears under his breath, and his grip on your ass feels tight enough to bruise. your cunt flutters around him, god, you forgot how fucking big he is, but he doesn't give you much time to get used to it. his pace is unforgiving, and his hips slam into your ass like he's trying to fuck the sound out of you.
"cheol," you hiccup, listening to your voice jolt with every thrust. " 'm so full...."
"yeah? you like how i fill you up?" he squeezes your ass hard, and you moan into the sheets. "better than anyone else?"
"o-only you," you reply, slack-jawed at the feeling of being split open so well and the delicious, unending drag of him against your walls. "just you."
this seems to satisfy him. he enters you, deeper still, until it feels like he's in your stomach.
"so fucking tight," he says, from somewhere deep in his chest. "you need me to stretch you out like this every once in a while, yeah? you take it so well, pretty girl."
all you can do is moan his name. it's what you've been doing, and at this point, it's the only word you know. he bottoms out again, and the pleasure is so white-hot it feels like it burns.
it only takes two, three, punches into your cunt for you to come undone. you're gushing, gushing around him, babbling something incoherent, and still he is unrelenting. you feel your mouth move in an attempt to tell him you're too sensitive, and he only shoves his cock deeper in you so he can feel you clench hard around it.
then he pushes your head into the sheets, deeper still so the neighbors won't write him up in the morning, and fucks you again. you foolishly think another orgasm will break you, but all it takes is for him to press his thumb into the dip of your asshole and tell you he's going to fuck you in both holes one day for you to fall apart again.
by the time he's done with you, your legs feel boneless and you don't even want to think about the situation between them. (you had asked him to cum in you, and he did. there was so much, he had to push some back into you with his fingers, and you cummed one more time.)
you feel seungcheol's dead weight slump onto the bed beside you. you're still face-down, but you turn as far as you can to look at him. it's unfair how he still looks good now--his bangs, dark and curly with sweat, crown his forehead, and you watch his long eyelashes flutter shut.
"fuck," he groans. "how does every time with you get better?"
somewhere inside you, in the parts that still work, you feel a small gleam of pride. it feels traitorous, in a way--the whole point of being friends with benefits was that it was supposed to be conditional, but you're running out of conditions. clearly, it didn't take much for you to come back and not regret it.
seungcheol laughs at your silence. "did i break you? no," he jokingly whines, and he rolls onto his side to return your gaze. he brings a hand up to brush the hair out of your eyes, as if that would somehow magically repair your body. but it does feel nice. "please speak."
"maybe broken. to be determined." seungcheol grins stupidly when you say this, and you watch how his eyes crinkle up at the sides.
usually, it's every man for himself at this point in the night. seungcheol will order takeout and draft some emails, and you hobble over to the bathroom so you can pee and use the shower. he leaves you alone for this part, which is the perfect opportunity to mix all his fancy shower gels together like you're a kid again.
but today seems different. you lie there for a beat in silence, watching each other blink. then seungcheol gets up, slowly then all at once, and walks over to your wrung-out body.
"i'm picking you up," he says, like a warning. "hopefully you're not afraid of heights."
you think he's joking until you feel the strong cords of his forearms--one around your middle and the other under your legs. you didn't even think you were able to be picked up at this point in your life, but somehow he's got you flush against his chest now, almost nose to nose with him.
"wait," you waver, suddenly feeling self conscious about literally everything. you're sticky and smelly and you're not curious to find out if your post-coital form will scare him away. "seungcheol."
"you really plan on walking yourself over to the bathroom? you couldn't make it to the bedroom earlier, and i hadn't even fucked you yet."
"hey!" you protest. he laughs, and you can feel his whole body shake. "wait, i can't laugh too much, or i'm gonna start leaking."
"you've got another thing coming if you think i'm afraid of a little body fluid."
seungcheol bumps the bathroom door open with his ass, which is somehow the funniest and most endearing thing to you. you flip on the light, and he sets you on the counter like it's just a normal friday night for the both of you.
he turns the shower on and turns back to look at you. "how hot do you want it?" then his eyes narrow playfully. "are you one of those freaks who likes getting their skin boiled off?"
"well, you can answer the first half of that question on your own."
"ok. freak."
while he messes with the shower knobs (he's got one of those showers with three separate showerheads), you take a moment to do some more snooping. the first time you were here, you did go through the various things he had on his counter. most of them are still there--the overpriced moisturizer you shamelessly use when you stay the night, a quarter-full bath and body works foaming soap, and a folded up hand towel with his initials on it.
there are some newer additions too. you don't miss how the little jar for your toothbrush is still there, or a small tube of lip gloss you had forgotten to take back a few months ago. he restocked the hand lotion that you said you liked, too.
you're starting to think that there is a small possibility that you are no longer friends with benefits. you're not dating either, but something somewhere in the middle. but how do you say something like that? how would you know, especially when seungcheol is a self-proclaimed forever bachelor who may never, ever date?
you have no time to think about this any further.
"sooo," seungcheol hums, wiping his hands with a bath towel. "i'll be in the bedroom. you want me to order chinese?" you watch him linger around, lamely, like a stray dog.
"wanna join me?"
he smiles, ear to ear.
"thought you'd never ask."
--
morning comes slowly.
you wake to birdsong and the quiet chatter of the city beneath you. the sun from the curtains is buttery and warm on your bare skin, and time seems to drag its feet. it feels perfect, which is a word you would have never used in relation to any of this, and yet nothing else seems more appropriate.
last night, after your shower (in which you learned that seungcheol always makes his hair into a shampoo mohawk, without fail), you talked for hours over the fattest spread of takeout you had ever seen.
the plan was to put on the office and dissociate like usual, but he finally answered your question about how his day at work was. (tumultuous and drama-filled--that was his first mistake. you love drama.) strangely, by the end of the night, you learned that you had more in common than you thought with a man whose watch collection was valued higher than your entire college education.
"you up?" seungcheol's morning voice comes out sounding like a croak from behind you. you're sure he's about to complain that his arm is asleep from your big head on it, but he doesn't. instead, he settles deeper into your warmth and pulls you closer by the waist.
"yeah," you reply, enjoying the feeling of his skin against your own.
you grab your phone from the nightstand, wondering if your roommate has discovered your betrayal and has blown up your phone. she has, so the two voice memos and twenty text messages in the group chat are no surprise to you.
what is a surprise is the text you get from your ex. can we talk? it reads. it's the first time you've heard from him in months--before that, he had broken up with you (over text) and then proceeded to block you on every platform possible.
your mind starts to spin. you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to text him back. just for closure's sake, you tell yourself, as if you haven't cried at least seven separate times about this. but you will admit, seungcheol has been a great diversion. you don't remember the last time you had a cry, and any progress was good progress to you.
complicating things, said diversion has slotted a leg between yours, and his hand has found its way to your ribcage, distractingly close to your chest. such are the consequences of only wearing a shirt to bed.
"you're so warm," he murmurs, right in the space where your neck meets your shoulder. his hand creeps up, now right over your heartbeat. it doesn't really take much for your body to respond--his fingertips find your nipple, and with a light squeeze, you're already arching back into him. "is this ok?"
"yeah," you breathe. you're distracted, but you figure the best way to un-distract yourself is with a new, better distraction.
now emboldened, he rolls the skin between his fingers, finding he loves the way you shudder underneath him. quickly, he moves out from behind you to hover over you instead, propping himself up by his forearms, and pushes your shirt up over the swell of your tits.
"you good?" seungcheol asks, lips flush to the skin over your heart. he presses another wet kiss to one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth.
"yeah, why?" you have half a mind to hold his head down so he can't ask more questions and ruin the point of being a distraction in the first place.
"dunno." he switches to the other side, licking over a mark he's bitten into your skin. "you looked at your phone and you seemed worried. also, you're frowning, and it's not a sex frown."
damn. you guess you're easier to read than you thought. you don't even have the heart to ask what the fuck a sex frown looks like.
seungcheol's mouth returns to your nipple, and he sucks hard, making you gasp into your palm.
"my ex," you tell him. there's no point in keeping it a secret. the first time you slept together, you had made it clear what your intentions were, which is what made this arrangement work so well in the first place. "he wants to talk or something."
"that asshole?" then another suck, and you keen into him. "you're too good for him."
it's literally one of the three appropriate responses he could have chosen from, but it still feels like a compliment to you. almost too much so.
"yeah. i guess." your voice sounds more wobbly than you'd like, but you chalk it up to the fact that he's now pressing his lips down your middle, all the way down to your core. "hey, i'm ticklish."
"i know." he kisses your belly button, and you smile in spite of yourself. "you smell good, by the way."
"it's your forty dollar body wash," you remind him.
"damn right it is." you feel his breath fan over your thighs, and your stomach flips with anticipation. "legs over my shoulders. you know the drill."
"you don't have to do this, you know," you say, before immediately regretting it. you have a spectacular knack of self-sabotage, which you think seungcheol knows by this point. "you've been really nice to me."
"am i not allowed to like being nice to you?" seungcheol jokes. "would you prefer me to be mean?"
"no," you laugh. you don't know how to ask what he meant. what made yesterday and today so different? it feels like you're on the edge of something, coming close to what you could only describe as more than casual affection, more than desire. "go back to being nice. forget i said anything."
you put your legs over his shoulders, like he asked. one good orgasm wouldn't solve the ex problem or this new seungcheol problem you are starting to discover, but it sure would help you think more clearly.
his lips are soft on you. he has none of the urgency or greed of yesterday; instead, he takes his time with you. his mouth skims over your inner thighs, lightly, drawing out all the breath from your lungs. you make a small noise of impatience, and you feel the stretch of his grin against you.
before you have a second chance to complain, you feel the heat of his open mouth over your cunt, as to drink your taste up. then his tongue, warm, insistent, on your clit, circling it before he sucks.
"o-oh, fuck," you whine, voice muffled by the back of your hand. it feels too early to be loud, and you're already embarrassed by how sensitive you are.
"don't text him back," seungcheol says. he's replaced his mouth with two fingers, now leisurely teasing you at your entrance.
"don't worry--" you manage to say this before he crooks the pads of his fingers into you, right at your sweet spot, and the words are stolen from you. "--about him."
"i'm serious." he laps at your cunt, and with his fingers still buried in you, the feeling makes you dizzy. "did he ever make you feel like this?"
"n-no," you whine, now with your palm shoved right against your mouth. he's added a third finger now, and the stretch is so good, you're going cross-eyed. "never ate me out."
"what?" you hear him tsk between your thighs as his fingers still. "he's missing out."
it's then that seungcheol must have resolved to give you the best head of your life, because you think you black out after that point.
his lips return to your clit, and the pleasure is so startling, you can feel your thighs squeeze shut around his head. unfazed, he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, still fluttering, unused to the size.
"close, 'm so close," you mewl, hips now lifted to chase his tongue. he indulges you, gives you the flat of the muscle to grind against as he stuffs you full.
your other hand finds his hair, and it only takes a moment, a slight pull, for him to moan into your heat--the sound breaks something inside you, and you're gasping, crying out with your high. by now, there are marks from your teeth in your palm, but something about the sting only makes the feeling better.
seungcheol stays sealed to your cunt, removing his fingers only to replace them with his mouth, eager to taste you. he lingers until you're shaking and whimpering, spent from your orgasm and too sensitive to endure another.
he looks up at you, swollen lips and bedhead made worse, and a surge of affection overtakes you.
"kiss me," you tell him, and he does.
it's long, and it's slow, not even close to any of the ones you've had before. you wrap a hand around the back of his neck, and he sighs. you don't think he's ever done that before.
when he pulls back to look at you, it feels as though the air has changed. there are words pushing at your lips. this isn't casual anymore. it can't be, not with what just happened.
yeah, the sex is good, but the first thing you thought of this morning wasn't you or your saturday plans or how to endure the dismay of your entire friend group, it was about him. if didn't count for something, you don't know what did.
"seungcheol, i--" you pause. his eyes are so brown, it's distracting you, and you start to second guess yourself.
"is it about your ex?" he interrupts. "if he asked you to get back with him, would you?"
it's not his question, but his insistence that takes you by surprise.
"n-no." you watch his gaze flicker at your hesitance, and you don't like it. "no, i wouldn't."
"good, because--" he pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. you try to read his expression, but he can't even meet your eyes right now. "look, i know i haven't had the best track record with dating. i don't even think i know how to date."
"what are you saying?" you ask softly. there's a part of your heart that feels like it's peeling itself back, in a good way.
"i'm saying i want to try." and when you still look confused, he continues. "dating you. if you'd let me."
against all odds, past all the swirling, terrible emotions in your chest, there's a bright surge of relief, of joy. the last time you saw him look so vulnerable was when he reached into his oven to pull out a tray of cookies and burned his hand because he forgot a glove. maybe this whole thing would crash and burn, but you like him enough (honestly more than enough) to try with him.
so you smile, and you watch him frown and pout and look unbearably terrified, and you smile harder.
"ok," you say, playfully feigning indifference. "you can try."
instead of replying, he kisses you again, and it's even better than the first one.
when you finally head out that morning, there's a lightness in your chest.
in the doorway, seungcheol pecks the top of your head before showing you his phone. "which emoji do you want?" he asks, completely seriously. "i want the blue heart."
you pull out your phone to find his contact, which still shows his plain number, just like old times.
"i'm unsaved?!" his jaw drops open like he's animated, and you laugh.
"gotta go," you tease. "see you later."
it's only in the uber home (that he called for you, of course), where you finally put in his real, government name, for the first time. finally, it feels a little more right.
choi seungcheol, it reads. with the blue heart.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
──⯎ ˙💄 ̟ strawberry lip balm
엔하이픈 | Enhypen | Nishimura Riki
──Pairing: niki x afab!reader
──Genre: fluff
──Synopsis: After sleeping over Niki's house with some friends the night before, you accidentally left your favorite chapstick behind
──Warnings: cursing, kissing
──A/N: yall this literally took me only one hour
masterlist
You.
You were the only thing on Nishimura Riki's mind ever since he had found your strawberry lip balm sitting on his bathroom sink.
Last night, you and Jake slept over at Niki's place. The three of you had so much fun playing Mario Kart all night and ordering your favorite foods. Niki had watched you put on that strawberry lip balm at least 20 times last night. You were typically the type to leave things at people's house accidentally but he didn't think you would end up forgetting something so important to you.
Niki layed on his bed, staring at the small lip balm. It was pink and decorated with strawberries and pink lettering. He held it in between his fingers, rolling it to read the label for the hundredth time. He contemplated whether he wanted to show up at your door to give you your lip balm now or wait until you noticed it was gone.
The thought of you putting the lip balm on your plump lips flooded his mind once again. The scene played on repeat until it almost annoyed him. He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing in frustration. Sure, he kinda liked you and kinda really wanted to kiss you but you were his friend. And his best friend was best friends with you too. Having the image of your blush tinted lips on his mind all day wasn't making his guilt any better.
He was even more guilty knowing that all he wanted right now was to taste your lips. Now he had your lip balm in his hand. It was an opportunity but would he feel super bad about it after? Absolutely.
Niki opened the cap of the lip balm. It had a red tint like a real strawberry and was a bit shimmery as well. The image of your lips flashed in his mind again. Maybe he would just quickly see how the lip balm smelled... He held the small pink lip balm under his nose. As you would expect, it smelled like artificial strawberries and had a hint of honey too.
The phone buzzed making him flinch, quickly closing the lip balm and tossing it to the side. Grabbing the phone, he read a text from you.
Y/n-ie♡Hey I think I left my lip balm at your house Can I come pick it up?
He immediately began typing back, telling you he had found it and he was at home.
Y/n-ie♡great I'll be over in 5
He sat up, feeling his face begin to heat. You had texted him right as he was smelling your lip balm. He felt like a total creep. Past that feeling, the desire to taste your lips still lingered, making him feel even worse.
Niki layed back down and turned to his side, eyeing the lip balm beside him. The idea of using your lip balm on his own lips popped into his mind. He quickly shook off the idea though. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to get you off his mind.
Not for long though.
He grabbed the lip balm, quickly pulling the cap off. He observed the way the flecks of glitter shimmered as he turned the lip balm. Hesitantly, he brought it up to lips. He swallowed before swiping the pink lip balm across his bottom lip. He frantically put the cap back on and threw it to the side once again. He felt horrible for using your things without your permission.
Niki licked his lips, tasting a mixture of strawberries and honey. Though he still wanted to know how it tasted on your lips.
Then there was a knock at the door. Fuck. 5 minutes had gone by too quickly. He shot up from his bed, grabbed the lip balm, and dashed toward the door. As soon as the door opened, his eyes darted to your lips. Still plump and pink even without your signature lip balm.
Great, way to go Niki.
"Hey Ki. I'm soooo glad you have my lip balm. I was looking for it all morning. I thought I was going crazy." You rambled as he tried his best to avoid looking down at your pretty lips.
"Uh, yeah. Sure. Here." He said quickly, reaching out to hand you your lip balm, still avoiding eye contact. He still felt ashamed for what he had done a few seconds earlier.
You took the lip balm from his hand. Just as he was about to turn away you opened your mouth to speak again. "Riki," Shit, his full name. You noticed already. He snapped his gaze toward you. "Did you use my lip balm?"
"No."
"Yes you did. You have glitter on your lips." Fuck. You had caught him. He stood there in silence with a look of shock like a deer in headlights. You just laughed though. He had totally overstepped a boundary and you just laughed at it. "Ki, why'd you use mine? Don't you have like 30 of your own?"
"Well, I-" He stuttered. He didn't know what to tell you. Oh yeah I used your lip balm like a total freak because I wanted to know what your lips taste like. No fucking way he would tell you that.
You raised an eyebrow at him. In addition, you crossed your arms. He could never lie to you when you did that.
"I'm sorry." he started by apologizing. "I wanted to k- to kiss you but you know... friends don't do that. So uh.. I used the lip balm and I'm really sorry. It was weird, sorry." He stuttered, bowing his head to repeatedly apologize. Again, you just laughed. His guilty expression was replaced with a look of confusion.
"You could have just told me, Ki. Here," you pulled open your lip balm and spread it across your lips. "I gotchu."
Before Niki could process what was happening, you had put a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in to kiss him. Your lips were so much softer than he could have ever imagined. The taste of strawberries and honey returned to his taste buds but a hundred times better this time. Just one kiss had him feeling dizzy. Subconsciously, he grabbed hold of your waist, pulling you closer to him.
"As good as you imagined?" You whispered against his lips. You felt his arms wrap around you fully, hugging you tight against his body.
"Better." He said before pressing his lips onto yours again.
© strawberrynull, 2024. Do not copy my work. Please DM for permission before translating or reuploading. Thank You
#enhypen#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen x reader#enha#enha x reader#enha fluff#kpop#kpop fluff#enhypen niki#niki#niki x reader#niki fluff#niki enhypen#nishimura riki#riki x reader#riki fluff#ni ki#ni ki x reader#ni ki fluff#enhypen jake#sim jaeyun#strawberrynull
2K notes
·
View notes