#turns out his angst is that he acts too light hearted when his heart is very heavy
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Girl, your stories are so GOOD! I love reading your fics. I just saw you may be taking fics for Jayce or Viktor. Is there any way I could request a Jayce x Viktor x Reader fic where the reader is very naturing, cuddly, and gentle with both of them, but maybe she hides all her stress and struggles cause she deems theirs more important? Like, she always knows when they want coffee, how they each take it, covers them up when the lab is cold or they pass out at the desk, rubs their shoulders when she sees them shrug too much, just very attentive. Yet, sheâs not a scientist and thinks that being stressed over literature projects and teaching is ridiculous cause itâs not as difficult or as important (in her mind) as hextech. So she just ignores her needs until these two notice.
Iâm so sorry if that is too much! I hope you enjoy the third act when it comes out. Thank you so much for reading this! đ©¶
OH ABSOLUTELY I CAN DO THIS. đđ THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND LIKING MY STORIES IT MEANS SO MUCH.
--fem reader. Fluff. Small sad. Angst if you squint. Cute throuple time.
--
The laboratory is cold, and the rain that batters piltover decorates the window like glass tears. Your eyes droop tiredly as you watched viktor twist the cogs in the next hextech project and listen to the sound of slow puffs of steam every few minutes that came from brass pipes on the walls.
Jayce is unmoving as he sits at his own desk, sorting through two stacks of papers. You hate it, hate watching them so vulnerable and so tired. Both are so hard-working and loyal to their studies.
"Allow me to help you both," you spoke as you stood up.
Reaching for two soft blue blankets stored in the corner, you walked firstly to jayce and draped the blanket across his shoulders and gave his cheek a soft kiss.
"I can't have my boys going cold now, can I?"
You spoke as you walked to viktor to drape a blanket across his much more lean shoulders, kissing his cheek, too. Viktor looked up at you and smiled tiredly.
"Thank you, my love." it never failed to make your heart flutter hearing viktor call you that, especially when his accent made it so smooth and endearing.
"Are you staying with us tonight?" Jayce spun in his chair, leaning an arm on his knee.
"I um" you cleared your throat.
The truth was, you had things to do. Your own assignments and activities to tend to. But viktor and jayce's eyes were gleaming deep brown in the dim laboratory light and so often you found yourself missing them when they would make you go to bed without them because they were afraid you would pass out after spending so long with them doing work.
"I have no where to be"
Paperwork
Documents
Assignments
Blueprints
Papers
Papers papers pap-
"No," you shook your head. "I have nowhere to be"
You smiled as you walked over to stand by the window, viktor and jayce came to stand on either side of you. The rain still pounded the glass, crystal city and enforcers were hounded the soaking streets each night, like a herd of elephants stampeding with metal boots.
"You need not worry about what's happening down there." Jayce put his hand on your shoulder.
Viktor turned his head to you. "It is not our worry, my love" he spoke ever so softly.
You pressed your lips together into a thin line, as you thought over so much.
"You both must be hungry," you stated.
You stepped away from them both before you walked over to the door. You would make them cups of hot tea and nice warm soup. bread and butter.
"Stop right there, doll" Jayce spoke loudly.
You froze and turned around to see jayce holding up your textbook. You gasped and realised they had indeed caught you.
"When were you going to tell us you had assignments to do?" Jayce asked.
Viktor turned around to face you, his head tilted. You looked at the ground defeated before them, and began to cry.
"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you both. I was so entranced with helping you with your dreams that I forgot about my own, " you frowned and sighed.
The two of them walked over to you and hugged you tightly. If they had known you were in such troubles, they would have chained you to the table and glued a pencil in your hand.
"I love you both so much, and I'm so sorry that kept it from you." .You looked at them with gentle and sorrowful eyes.
"You need not be sorry. But It's time to start taking care of yourself, my love. " viktor held you close to him
You nodded, making them both smile admiringly.
"We love you, pretty girl"
You gave them both soft kisses to their lips and smiled. "You know I'm still going to take care of you both"
They were your boys. And even if you were working every day and night on your own papers, you would find ways to still make sure they had their breakfast lunch and dinner and were always hydrated and healthy. You loved them both dearly and they too loved you too.
"If I find out you aren't focusing on yourself, I'll take back my promise to buy cupcakes" Viktor spoke.
Not only did you gasp. But beside you, the man of progress did too.
#jayvik#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane season 1#jayvik fic#jayce talis#viktor arcane#jayvik x reader#jayce x viktor
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In the attic sequence when Edwin is helping Charles through his gradual death, Charles coughs hard at the table. Edwin asks if he's alright. He quickly says "Yeah I'm fine, answer my question! When did you go to school here?"
Even when Charles was very literally dying, he was still pushing the "don't worry about me haha" and then he DIED.
#obsessed with his character arch#charles rowland#edwin payne#dbda#dead boy detectives#dead boy detectives spoilers#thinking about this constantly#text post#i love lighthearted characters haha#turns out his angst is that he acts too light hearted when his heart is very heavy
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a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again
speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life
a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.
summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.
word count: 3k+
pairing: old man!logan x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.
He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.
He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.
Whatever horrors that plagued his mindâendless nightmares that promised nothing but anguishâsuddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldnât fathom that luck struck him this hard.
Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.
He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent aloneâa man lost to the ravages of timeâhad turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?
Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.
It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.
Until you said his name.
Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.
You brought him back from the edgeâtook his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didnât earn; one that almost tasted too sweetâtoo sour.
After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.
His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.
He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.
"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.
The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.
Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged beforeâtoo afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.
Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.
His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.
He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.
So slick. So perfect.
Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"
Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."
His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.
If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.
When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.
"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.
His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.
He couldn't live without it.
"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.
The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.
He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.
Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.
"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."
You nodded franticallyâtears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."
The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.
"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"
"Uh-huh."
"Take care of what belongs to me."
There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.
The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.
Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.
"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."
He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.
"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.
Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.
You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.
"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."
His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.
"Fuck I'm gonna cum."
His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.
He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.
Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.
That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirtâhis grave open and waitingâhe stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.
Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasmâthe stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.
So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.
"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.
You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.
"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.
He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.
"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."
"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.
You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.
"It hurts-"
A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"
You shook your head. "B-But-"
"Thought you said it was good."
"It is."
"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.
He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yoursâthe only thing keeping him aliveâand thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.
But when you let him touch you like thisâcaress your skin and lick between your foldsâhe felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.
The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clitâcareful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.
He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.
You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.
How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?
"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."
The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.
Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.
"Oh-"
Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your wallsâdriving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.
He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much badâafter so much painâhe could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.
He could finally be the man you believed he was.
Not the animal they created.
"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.
A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeksâlips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.
Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.
"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."
Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."
His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.
You could see itâthe glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.
So you spread your legs and sat up slowlyâarms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.
"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."
The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.
"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."
You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."
Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty barâalcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.
The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.
#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett smut#old man logan#my writing
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College Boy!Sukuna accidentally knocking you up
A while ago, I saw a post that asked which of our faves accidentally knocks us up, and I answered it with "CollegeBoy!Sukuna." So here is the fic about that ;)
Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. College AU. Light angst with a happy end. 2k words. Pregnancy, mentions of Sukuna smoking a cigarette. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider@/plutism + dollsciples
"Damn, princess, how long does that shitty thing need?"
Sukuna has dropped his usual act of aloofness. For once, there is no teasing comment coming out of his mouth, no arrogant smirk, no flirty wink, and no charming look out of those beautiful maroon eyes. Your usually so arrogant and tough bad boy is scared shitless.
For the last few minutes, he has been playing with his tongue-piercing continuously, driving you almost insane with the constant noise of the metal barbell connecting with Sukuna's teeth. But you can't blame him. You are even more nervous than Sukuna.
You lean closer to the old couch table again, looking at the pregnancy test that's lying there, and your stomach twists painfully. There's a change now. A second line has appeared on the little test strip. You feel your heart drop.
The alarm on your phone goes off right at that moment, making you jump as you grab the test with shaky fingers. Holding the sheet with the instructions in the other hand, you read them feverishly as if you haven't already learned them by heart. As if you don't already know what the two lines mean!
Sukuna leans across the table, too,
"What does it say?"
But you only hear his voice muffled as if you are underwater. You stare at the two lines on the pregnancy test, feeling your head spin. Sukuna's large hand darts out and wraps around your trembling wrist, pulling your hand and the test towards him while repeating his question more urgently this time.
But you can't say anything and just throw the test in Sukuna's lap. He grabs it and stares at it, his maroon eyes going wide as comprehension dawns on his beautiful, tattooed face.
"Fuck."
That's all he says, and then he looks at you with wide eyes, shock and fear written all over his face. He looks younger somehow, like a scared little boy. His lips open, but no words come out. He closes them again and gulps hard.
And then Sukuna gets up from the couch and practically bolts from the small living room, walking so fast that he has reached the apartment door before you even realize what he's doing.
His large hand is already on the door handle, pushing it open when your mind finally catches up with what is going on, and you feel like tumbling into darkness.
Sukuna is going to run, isn't he? Of course, he's going to leave! Of course, a guy like him is only interested in having fun but no responsibility! Of course, he will always stay the bad boy who just likes to party and fuck and do whatever the hell he wants! And a pregnant girlfriend is the last thing he needs!
Your hands ball into fists. You're about to scream at him or cry or break down.
But before you can do any of that, Sukuna stops in the doorway.
He is standing there with his back to you, so tall that his hair is almost brushing against the doorframe. You watch him fumble ungracefully with his cigarettes in a way that is completely untypical for him, nearly dropping the pack and needing several tries to light a cigarette before he brings it to his lips with a shaky hand and takes a deep drag.
You let out a slow breath, slumping back against the couch.
He didn't leave.
Sukuna turns his head slowly to look at you over his broad shoulder. Suddenly, his eyes widen, and he bangs the door shut and quickly strides back to the small living area, bending down to hastily stub his cigarette out in the ashtray on the couch table.
"Shit, I forgot that I shouldn't smoke when you are...," he stops mid-sentence, and his eyes wander to your belly, "when you are... ah fuck..."
Sukuna runs a trembling, tattooed hand through his pink hair. You both stare at each other for a long moment, both unable to say the words out loud. But your mind screams them at you:
Pregnant. You are pregnant with Sukuna's baby!
You have no idea how it even happened. Were Sukuna and you not careful enough? Maybe too horny and too drunk after one of the various parties you went to? Did a condom rip, and you didn't realize it? Maybe if it was any other month, things would have gone differently, but you had exams and were in a constant state of stress. You simply didn't have the mind to worry about anything else but studying and then fucking like bunnies for stress relief!
You feel so stupid. You were always so sure that something like this would never happen to you. An accidental pregnancy was something that only happened to those girls in those trashy reality TV shows!
Well, now look at you.
Pregnant from your college sweetheart, the bad boy with the face tattoos. The guy you are head over heels in love with but who you didn't even dare bring home to your parents yet because they took one look at a picture of the two of you, saw Sukuna's tattooed face and his pink hair, and deemed him a troublemaker who will only drag their sweet daughter into the gutter with him. And now he even managed to accidentally knock you up, and it will just be the cherry on top!
Finally, the tears spill over, and a sob escapes your trembling lips. Instinctively, you hug yourself, but your arms get pushed away just a second later, when Sukuna is pulling you to your feet and into his strong, tattooed arms, pulling you against him, holding you so tight you find it hard to breathe.
His lips press against your forehead, leaving little kisses and murmuring against your skin,
"I am sorry for almost running out that door like a fucking coward. I'm sorry, baby."
"It's ok, Kuna. You stopped and came back. That's what counts. But... I... I am so scared."
You sniffle and press yourself against Sukuna's tall, muscular body, seeking the comfort of his broad chest and his strong arms, which feel like home, letting your tears soak Sukuna's t-shirt that smells like him, like cigarette smoke and cherry blossoms and his typical sexy cologne.
Sukuna's arms tighten around you, and he makes a choked-up sound that you have never heard from him before. You feel him gulp hard, and then he speaks up in that low, velvety voice that sounds so much more serious than ever before,
"I promise I won't run. We're in this together. I got scared, too, because I am not the dad type of guy. I don't even have any idea how a dad is supposed to be because I've never had one. I mean, fuck! I am a mess! I don't even know what I want apart from living in the moment, having fun, being with you, and spending time with my brother. But you're my girl, and I'll be damned if I leave you alone with this! I won't run, princess, I promise."
You hear a strange noise, only to realize that it is coming from your own mouth, a strangled sob. You snuggle closer against Sukuna's chest, hiding your face in his t-shirt, clinging desperately to him, overwhelmed with the situation. But he is there for you. He rests his chin on top of your head and holds you, swaying you slightly from side to side.
His low voice is calm when he asks,
"Do you want to keep it?"
"I... I didn't even have the right mind to think about it yet."
Sukuna nods, and his arms tighten around you,
"It's ok. Take your time. If you want to get rid of it, then I will drive you to the hospital and take care of you afterward. And if you decide to have the baby... then I will be a dad. I never imagined myself with a kid, but this is different. This is our baby. And I know what it's like to grow up without parents. I don't want that for my child. My grandpa did a pretty good job with Yuuji and me before he became sick, but it's not the same as having a mom and a dad, I think. I won't let that happen to our kid."
You let out a shaky breath, feeling a huge weight leave your shoulders at Sukuna's reassurance. You can see things a bit clearer now. And maybe it's not as hopeless as you thought.
Technically, you are old enough to be a mom, and you could just pause your studies for a semester or two and then return to your classes. Of course, things won't be as carefree anymore, and you will have a huge responsibility. On top of that, you really have no idea what life with a baby will be like. But you know now that you won't be alone with it.
You will have the boy you love by your side. No, you correct yourself, not the boy you love, but the man you love. Because the way Sukuna reacted so maturely and responsibly showed you that he isn't a boy anymore. He is a man. Your man. And you are even beginning to be able to imagine him as a dad. He is doing a pretty decent job as Yuuji's brother, too, after all, isn't he? Sure, Yuuji is the same age as Sukuna, but Sukuna still always acts like the big brother. So protective and caring, in a grumpy way, but sweet nonetheless.
Suddenly, the thought of a miniature version of Sukuna running around doesn't seem so scary anymore. You catch yourself wondering what your baby would look like if you decide to have it. Will it have Sukuna's eyes?
You lift your head to look up at him, and Sukuna's gaze meets yours. He looks deeply into your eyes, almost making you nervous with how intense those beautiful maroon eyes look at you,
"If you want to keep it, I will make damn sure you and the kid have it good. I promise you, princess. I am not going to run like some loser. I will learn everything about taking care of a child and how to be a dad and get my shit together. I will even stop smoking. I just... I love you, and this will be our little family, and I will fucking protect it with my life! We will make this work. We can move in together. We can ask Yuuji to babysit, and I can take the little gremlin to classes with me. I had someone do that in my history class, you know? Had his ugly little brat in a baby carrier. I could do that, too. Only difference is that our baby will be super pretty, of course."
You chuckle softly despite the shock, a mix of a sob and a laugh, feeling lighter now that you know your boyfriend will be there for you.
"I love you too, Sukuna. Thank you."
"No need to thank me. We will get through this together, no matter what you decide."
You snuggle against Sukuna's tall, muscular body and smile shakily up at him, sure that your pupils must have transformed into little hearts from the way your chest feels as if it's overflowing with love for your boyfriend. Your arrogant, rude, bad boy of a boyfriend, who, deep down, is such a good guy for the people he loves.
You smile and get on your tiptoes to press a kiss to Sukuna's tattooed jaw, a tender lingering touch, before you tell him softly,
"Let's sleep over it for a night or two, and then we'll decide what to do. But either way, I want you to know that you sound like you would be an amazing dad. I guess having your baby would be quite nice."
You can see Sukuna's gaze soften, and then he smirks that attractive smirk at you and pulls you even closer against him, leaning down so his lips brush over yours when he says,
"Let's see if you will still say that when the little brat turns out to be anything like me. I wasn't an easy child."
And you laugh and reach up to ruffle Sukuna's pink hair affectionately, tangling your fingers in the soft, pink strands,
"Well, how lucky that I have you by my side to look after Sukuna Number 2 then."
You feel Sukuna grin against your lips, and then he kisses you, slow and tender, and you practically melt against him.
You are still nervous but not as scared anymore. Sukuna is right: You are going to do this together. No matter what, you have Sukuna by your side. And, even though he doesn't look like it, your bad boy is actually a good man.
And maybe your decision is already made because the mental image of Sukuna going to class with a baby carrier strapped to his broad chest just won't leave your mind anymore.
SIGHHHHHH I think I would want his baby đ
Thank you so much for reading! I love the mess that CollegeBoy!Sukuna is. He is very dear to me đ I am so proud of him for being so mature about this!! A good man and a good soon-to-be daddy.
In my head, I was singing "Papa, don't preach" the whole time while writing this ;)
Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.
Update: Part 2 Option A (Reader has an abortion) Part 2 Option B (Reader decides to have the baby)
#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna#sukuna fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk fluff#ryomen sukuna#tw pregnancy
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â angel eyes | l.sm
â summary; though seokmin and you are focused on building a good relationship, you both forget an integral part of it. sex. or, in which you both have sex after being together for one year.
â pairings; seokmin x fem! reader â genre; smut, angst (a teeny bit), fluff, established relationship â w.c; 3.7k+ â warnings; soonyoung slander, they're both horny and didn't have sex for no reason, seokmin is a loveable idiot, insecurities, oral (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex (she's on pills), creampie, he's shy and adorable, mentions of food. â a/n; ty to the anon that came up with this idea. man, i love writing this guy.
Seokmin takes a deep breath for the nth time and rolls down the windows. He sighs, unbuttoning his shirt a bit to rid the hotness in the car. His hand moves to turn up the air cooler, but he stops halfway, eyes falling on your figure. Youâre curled up in the passenger seat, pulling his coat tighter around you.Â
A soft smile graces his features as he shifts focus to the road again. The events of the night slip away from his mind easily as you replace them. Seokmin has never felt happier than with you. Itâs easier to breathe around you, easy to be himself around you, easy to feel loved and love you back. Everything has been so easy, and he feels content with the relationship.Â
In fact, Seokmin even planned on going on one knee just 3 months into the relationship. He couldnât help it. Everything flew naturally with you. And just like that, certain things didnât even occur to him. Too focused on being in love, you both completely forgot about an integral part of a relationship. Sex.
The hard thing (no pun intended) is this had only been brought out to the limelight when one of his friends, Soonyoung, joked about it, unknowingly after your first anniversary. âOh? Have you both even done it?âÂ
Soonyoung did not expect the absolute silence that followed, which affirmed his statement. The air felt too thick for him, and he could hear his heart thrumming in his ear. The awkwardness quickly dissolved when Mingyu made a mess, and everyone jumped to bully him. Since then, it lingered in his mind like a ghost, and his cheeks burnt up coyly.
He wasnât embarrassed, per se, but shy. He was never embarrassed about the relationship at any point. Always proud that you both were taking things slow and smooth, earning comments of marriage from others frequently.Â
And it's not like Seokmin shied away from the topic of sex either. He is a gentleman, not an idiot. And a bit shy.Â
Hence, exactly why he couldnât bring himself to meet your eyes the rest of the night. Soonyoungs joke shed a different light on you, and he found himself catching the details he usually missed. Your cleavage that was slightly exposed when you bent forward, the curve of your ass when he placed his hand on your waist, the softness of your hips, and your soft, pretty lips, he found himself thinking about for the rest of the night.Â
But you were seemingly unaffected by any of it. You were your usual self, and when he shied away from your eyes, you simply pinched his cheeks and kissed the corner of his lips to silently say, âitâs ok.âÂ
The kiss lingers on his skin warmly. He lifts his hand to caress your cheeks and smiles when you lean into his touch. But that smile drops when the strap of your dress falls, exposing your cleavage. With your curled-up position facing him, he can see it clearly.
Seokmin shifts his gaze back to the road, sporting a blush and a raging boner.
From then on, he had tried to initiate sex more often. Keyword; tried.Â
He stopped by a convenience store to buy some condoms but ended up completely off the track and bought some of his childhood snacks.
âHoney, Iâm home!â He announces, making his way to you with a big smile. You greet him back, âHi baby,â
âYou wonât believe what I found!â He exclaims, showing off the goods he bought, and you tilt your head, squinting at the plastic bags of snacks. âMy childhood snacks! I actually went to buy-â Oh, right. He went to buy condoms.Â
âMhm, what did you want to buy?â you ask, fully focusing on him with a small smile.Â
âIâwell, uh.. I forgot.â He stutters under your gaze, and you chuckle, finding him adorable. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you take some of the snacks from his. âCome on, letâs store them.âÂ
âHuh? Yeâyeah.âÂ
...
At least heâs trying.Â
He even googles up stuff! Countless articles pop up, and Seokmin is surprised to find that multiple people actually resonated with his problem. But it also worries him, and his heart sinks reading said articles â In a sexless relationship? Instant red flag! â Sexual incompatibility and its effects on long-term relationships â 6 ways to find out that your partner hates yo-
He slams the laptop shut and buried his face in his hands. Trying to ignore the lump in his throat, he rubs his face over and over again. Tears prick his waterline, and he canât bite back the sob that rakes from his chest. What if you do hate him?Â
The insecurity gnaws at his heart, and he feels disgusted with himself. Seokmin hugs the pillow for some comfort and falls asleep within minutes.Â
God damn Soonyoung.
You groan out loudly, removing your hands from between your thighs and catching your breath. Ever since he brought it up, you found yourself like this often. Naked, horny, and sopping wet. You sigh heavily and turn around your bed, caressing his side of the bed.Â
Your boyfriend is fucking hot. Heâs the most gorgeous man you know. Call it an exaggeration, but it is true. Heâs a piece of art. And you? Well, youâre a woman.Â
A woman who has fallen head over heels for him.Â
Getting to know him through the first months of your relationship, you came to know about his gentle nature, and as others say, heâs god-sent, something you canât deny. Heâs got it all. Personality, looks, a rare kind of optimism, and certainly a good dick. (yes. You were going through an album he shared with you, consisting of old pictures from college and school, and interestingly enough, there was a mirror selfie of his naked self, sporting a boner.)Â
And being honest, Seokmin is quite naĂŻve at times, and any horny feelings were unintentionally locked up in favor of taking things slow. You didnât want to mess up things, and you see a future with him, leading to subconsciously pushing away intimate moments.Â
That is until Soonyoung opened the floodgates.
You groan again. Just because Soonyoungs words elicited a positive response from you doesnât mean the same for Seokmin. He couldnât even look at you after that, and with much of your efforts, you brought the relationship back to normal. But things are going south again, with him seemingly avoiding you. It is hard to do so when you are actively living with someone, but he is pent-up at work lately.Â
With another curse, you sit up, determined to set things straight, Not by talking, but by some other means.Â
Heâs always stressed and tense from work, and what better stress-buster there is than sex? Checking the time, you smirk. Thereâs more than enough time to make extra preparations as well.
...
Youâre lying on the bed again with a giddy feeling as you anxiously wait for your boyfriend to return him. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to check yourself in the mirror again. You bathed, sprayed his favorite perfume, and applied a bit of gloss, wanting to keep it natural. Youâre wearing sexy white lingerie, not too provocative and not too boring, it was perfect. And since you didnât want to give your boyfriend a heart attack, you wore one of his t-shirts, covering the lingerie.Â
The sound of the front door opening has you sitting up in a frantic and your heart races when you hear his usual âHoney, Iâm home!â you take deep breaths to ease your nerves and go outside to greet him. His back is turned to you as he removes his shoes and places them on the rack at the entrance. You hug his back, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his upper back.Â
âMissed you,â you pout. You missed him so fucking much. Seokmin was taking mental escapes, and it really hurt to not see his usual happy-go-lucky self.Â
He freezes under your touch, and you sigh. He turns in your embrace and smiles sweetly at you, murmuring a soft, âmissed you too.â Before slotting his lips on yours. Your hands come up to hold his face and deepen the kiss. He hums against your lips, one of his hands move to your waist and the other to your face.Â
He breaks the kiss, but not before another sweet peck. But you pull him in for another by grabbing his tie. He gasps when you bite his lip, giving you the perfect chance to slip in your tongue. He pulls you flush against him, fingers digging into your waist. You caress his hair and wrap your arms around his shoulder. The feeling of his tongue on yours is ecstatic, and you drown yourself in his scent.
You walk backward, slowly leading him to the bedroom. You gasp when he lifts you, and you wrap your legs around his waist, holding onto him. He gasps for breath and walks into the bedroom. Seokmin knows where this is leading, but he hasnât processed any of what is happening now.Â
Heâs drunk on your scent, and the way you look at him makes him oblige to you, like a man lured by a siren. You donât cease your kisses but reduce them to pecks and slowly move from his lips to his neck. He grunts lowly, feeling you sucking and nibbling on his sensitive skin.Â
He sets you down on the bed, quickly moving to undo his tie, but you pull him down to the bed and straddle his hips. You bite back a moan, feeling his hard cock graze your thigh and continue your attack on his neck. He tilts his neck, giving you space, and rests his hands on your bare thighs, slowly moving them under the tee to yourâoh.
The reality of what is happening dawns upon him as his fingers graze the lazy material of your panties. Seokmin gently pulls you away, gripping your shoulders as he looks at you with a bewildered look.Â
âShit. Doâdo you not want this?â he watches your face morph through multiple emotions, and he notices the tears forming.Â
âWait, no. No! thatâs notâwait. Please?â You nod, waiting for him.Â
But Seokmin cannot form a word for the life of him, and he panics, uttering continuous âIâs and âuhmâs. He gives up, sighing and catching your eyes on him. Fuck. His cock twitches in his pants, and he canât help the nasty thoughts that form in his mind.Â
âJust,â he breathes in, closing his eyes before finding yours again. âFuck me, please.â
You close the gap between you two, kissing his lips tenderly. Gently pushing him back, you make him lay on the mattress without breaking the kiss. You sigh against his lips, resting your forehead on his and silently searching for reassurance in his eyes. That reassurance comes with him pushing your hips down to his.Â
You sit up, smiling prettily at him before removing his t-shirt. His eyes widen, and his mouth falls agape as he sits up to have a better look. You wore this for him? He rests his hand on your thighs, fixating his eyes on your breasts. You giggle, âyou like it?â he nods wordlessly before switching positions.Â
Seokmin looks down at your figure, âSo pretty.â He whispers before kissing your neck, licking the skin, and nibbling on it. He kisses further and further down till he reaches the valley of your breasts. He looks up at you, catching your eager eyes and shit. The newfound confidence fades away, and his cheeks burn up.Â
To add to his shyness, you lift yourself up, undoing the bra and flinging it into some corner. You guide his hands to your breasts, and your nipples harden immediately under his touch. You moan, pushing your chest out, encouraging him to do whatever he fucking wants.Â
But you did not expect him to right away wrap his lips on your pebbled nipples as his hand toys with the other. You whimper and moan, turning putty in his hands. His tongue circles around your nipple before he sucks on it. Your panty sticks to your core like a second skin, and you feel more arousal drip through the material.Â
He switches to the other one, sucking so diligently on it. Before he could go further below, you stop him. âWait. I want to see you too.â You whisper breathlessly.Â
You help him undress and bite your lips, soaking in his figure. Watching as he slips off his pants, you feel yourself grow hotter. Seokmin looks like what you could only describe as a walking wet dream. Your eyes dart all over his figure. Wide shoulders and strong biceps complemented by a firm chest and a toned abdomen. And, thick thighs complementing hisâoh, god.Â
Your eyes widen, and your mouth waters as you see the outline of his cock. Heâs thick and big. Enough to pleasure you and not enough to hurt. So, in total, itâs perfect. You just want him to bruise your insides and-
Seokmin holds your chin, gently tilting your head up to make you look at him. You look at him through your eyelashes and pout lightly at him while arching your back and closing your arms to push your breasts together.
His cock twitches, leaking pearls of precum that stained his boxers. His chest fills with confidence at the way you are reacting to him. Even he cannot comprehend what he's doing. Your effect on him is that powerful.Â
He takes you by surprise and kneels on the floor. It's his turn to look at you through his lashes, big brown eyes staring at you with need. You lick your lips, watching him as he pulls you to the edge and spreads your legs. He kisses your heat through the lacy material and licks at the patch formed by your arousal. His nose presses against your clit, and you gasp, feeling all the bones in your body weaken as he has his way with you.Â
Pulling away, he slides his fingers under the hem of your panties and peels it off you, leaving you bare. It joins the pile of clothes, and he dives right in, licking and kissing your folds. âFuck!â you arch your back and push your cunt onto his face. His nose directly presses against your clit, and you moan as he basically fucking makes out with your cunt.Â
You close your legs around his head and tangle your fingers with his locks, pushing him further. He sucks on the little bundle of nerves, then circles his tongue around it with occasional kitten licks. You tug at his hair harshly, and your moans fill the room along with wet sounds as he eats you out. Feeling the orgasm inching closer, you force his mouth off you.Â
âNeed you,â you whimper, grabbing his face and kissing him. He moans into your mouth as you roughly push your tongue past his lips, tasting yourself on him. His cock twitches with need when you rake your nails down his nape and shoulders. Seokmin grows hotter, thinking about your hands pumping his cock as you suck on his tip.Â
You pull away to get down on your knees and hook your finger under the hem of his boxers as he stands up. You pull it down, gawking at his hard, twitching cock, and take him in your hands. His cock rests heavy in your hands, and you couldnât care less about the cold floor biting your knees. You give the tip an experimental lick, tasting his precum while batting your eyelashes up at him.Â
You grin, satisfied when he throws his head back, groaning at a small lick. Without warning, you take half of his length in your mouth, eyes rolling back at the feeling of it resting heavily on your tongue. He tangles his fingers in your hair, looking down at you while he moans a string of curses. Wrapping your fingers around his base, you pump his length and swirl your tongue around his tip.Â
You bounce your head up and down his cock, getting used to his girth. You pull away momentarily, and a string of saliva connects your lips to his tip. Licking your lips, you maintain eye contact with him and wrap your lips around his length once again. But this time, you take his full length in your mouth, gagging and enjoying how he fills you up. You hold his thighs for support, sliding his cock out fully before taking him again.Â
You do this a couple of times and feel him twitching in your mouth. Seokmin pulls your mouth off his cock, biting his lips in vain to prevent moaning at the erotic sight before him. You know how to put that mouth to use. A few more seconds and he wouldâve cummed down your throat.Â
With a huff, he pulls you up and backs you to the bed. You lay on the soft sheet, letting him take control. You gasp when he teases his tip on your folds, coating it in your arousal, and he moans, feeling your warmth and wetness. His tip nears your entrance, stretching past your folds, and thenâ
âShit. Condoms,â he curses, eyes snapping towards yours in worry. You chuckle, finding your dumbfounded boyfriend adorable. âIâm on pills. Donât worry.â Â
His eyebrows crease, âSince when?â
âSince that dinner. Couldnât stop thinking about you and your cock.âÂ
A light blush settles on his cheek, and he smiles at you, shaking his head. He pushes his hair back to calm himself down, and you sigh, finding him hot. There he sits on his knees, between your legs, and a coat of sweat glistens on his skin. He looks ethereal and hot. Yeah, youâd let him rearrange your insides.Â
He chuckles, finding your lusty eyes ogling him. âYouâre making me shy!âÂ
And you hook your arms under your knees, pulling your legs to your chest. You bite your lips with a sultry look on your face, and he groans, watching your pussy glisten under the light. He readjusts himself, feeling your folds with his tip again.Â
You gasp and moan as his length fills you up, stretching your walls. You havenât had sex in over a year, and youâre feeling the effects now. Tears well up, and you close your eyes, attempting to adjust to his length. Seokmin leans down, kissing your tears away, and you open your eyes, finding his chocolate eyes staring at you with love and lust.
âShit. Is it too much? I can pull out, baby.â He softly says, voice laced with concern. You shake your head, whispering a âno.â You lift your head up, slotting your lips against his.
You hook your hands around his nape, deepening the kiss. He holds your waist as you wrap your legs around his hips, holding still till you adjust. Your gummy walls grip his length tightly, making his head spin. After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, taking a deep breath and nodding at him.Â
Seokmin pulls out slowly, leaving only his tip in before slowly sinking back. You both moan in unison when he fills up again. He does this a few times before settling into a comfortable and pleasurable pace. You moan with each snap of his hips towards yours, eyes rolling back in pleasure. His cock kisses your walls in all the right places.
His moans mix with yours in the bedroom, along with the sounds of your hips meeting. Your cunt squeezes his cock, and the wetness allows him to easily slide his cock in and out of you. The feeling of your arousal coating his cock is sinful, and your naked skin on his makes warmth pool in his chest.Â
He catches your lips in a sensual kiss, slowing down his pace. His tongue slides against yours easily, wandering your mouth. Your arousal drips down, sticking to his balls with each thrust. You bite his lower lip, making him whine into your mouth, and fasten his pace a bit. You slide your hand between your bodies to stimulate your clit, but he beats you to it.
Long, slender fingers rub at your clit, drawing in your orgasm. You buck your hips up, desperately meeting his cock and fingers. Seokmin moans when you clench his cock, speeding up his climax. You whine, feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, and he feels his cock twitch as well. His pace stutters, turning erratic as he kisses you messily.Â
With a moan of his name, you cum on his cock and hold onto him for dear life. He follows suit, hips stuttering to a halt as ribbons of cum paint your walls. He rests his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath. You sigh in bliss, his warm cum filling you up to the brim.Â
He pulls out, falling to your side and instantly pulling you into a cuddle. His cum oozes out, and it should feel dirty, but it doesnât. Instead, it feels like home, warm and cozy, with his cum filling up your cunt.Â
âI love you,â he whispers into your ear, and you giggle, feeling his breath tickle you. You canât see him, but you feel his smile. âI love you too, baby.â And you giggle again when he kisses your neck, accidentally tickling you again.
His strong hands wrap around you comfortingly. And a serene silence envelops you both. Only for a while, though, âshould I order pizzas?âÂ
You heartily laugh, slapping his chest lightly, and peck his cheeks. He adorably grins at you, pulling you closer. You rest your head on his chest, hugging him with a lazy smile.Â
âWas that ok?â he voices out.
âHmm, the pizza?âÂ
His chest reverberates as he chuckles, âNoâI mean yes. Thatâs also there butâŠâÂ
âWas the ⊠sex good?â he finishes, and you look up, meeting his curious eyes tinged with insecurity. But you smile brightly at him, nodding, âThe best Iâve ever had.â His eyes widen before he squints at you playfully.Â
âDonât lie, it was that good?â
âYep. 10/10. Best cock in the world.â
You both laugh, and he adds, âyour...â He coughs, âuhhh...â He gives up, gesturing towards your heat and nodding in acknowledgment. Your body shakes with laughter, and he hides his face shyly. You remove his hands and kiss his face, hugging him closer. Silence settles again, and you feel content in his arms before he speaks again.Â
âAlso, pizza ok?âÂ
tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially
@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @pan-de-seungcheol
(send an ask to be added on the taglist!)
#seokmin#seokmin smut#svthub#svt smut#dokyeom#dokyeom smut#svt#lee seokmin#seventeen smut#seokmin x reader
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LOGAN HOWLETT - BLAST FROM THE PAST
A/N: And something new, that I've been working on for some time. The ending sucks, but I tried. Maybe it won't make sense, I don't know. It was supposed to be spicy, but I didn't know what to put there.
Pairing:Â Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning:Â angst, some fluff
My stories are written for mature audiences - 18+!
Words:Â 5400+
Important note:Â Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)
FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST
LOGAN HOWLETT - BLAST FROM THE PAST
Logan needed some time off. Was it from the students? The missions? He didnât know. But he longed for some peace. A weekend away would be perfect. A week would mean the world to him. And yet, heâd never asked for that. Deep down, he liked teaching the students. He enjoyed the missions even when he was grumpy about it.Â
He leaned against a pillar at the entrance, inhaling the cold wet air. The had been pouring for hours. It was a matter of minutes before the first thunder would start. With midnight slowly approaching, the scenario in front of him was very peaceful. It was exactly what he needed, even if it was only for a few moments.Â
Logan took a cigar out of his pocket, lighting it up. No one would bitch about it now. When he took the first drag, his mind wandered to Jean. He would think about her here and there, always wondering⊠what if? What if she chose him? What if she never dates Scott? But it wasnât like that. It sucked she chose Scott. Itâs been a long time now. It was time to get over it for good.
Out of nowhere, he scoffed. There was only one person who would stupidly comment on it. Logan perfectly pictured his best friend beating his ass for acting like a fool. Like a love-sick puppy, sheâd say. And would laugh, even now.Â
Logan frowned. Now, his mind was preoccupied with the images of his best friend - Y/N. They met over two years ago. Or was it longer than that? It was at a time when he was cage-fighting for money. He wasnât a teacher or an X-man. He barely knew who he was. He was blessed with that woman, to be honest. She sneaked into his life and nestled somewhere in his heart.Â
He chuckled when he remembered how she would mock him. They had a similar sense of humour. She was a powerful mutant, also on the run from everything and everyone - even herself. Life with her by his side was easier. Their paths separated a few times, only to be brought together by some miracle.Â
But then Rogue came and his life changed. The last time he met her was, again, a total coincidence. Because thatâs what the universe had decided to do. Logan was on a mission with Storm, looking for more mutant children to be saved and protected. Turned out, Y/N was on her own mission, to help them. The meeting was short, amusing and before he blinked, she was gone.Â
He kept wondering what his life would be if they stayed together. What if she was here with him? What if he stayed by her side and never set foot here?Â
He took another drag, the taste lingering in his mouth a bit more than before. Loganâs eyes scanned the surroundings. The driveway to the school was empty. He didnât sense any danger. And yet, he frowned. Something seemed off.
There was a scent lingering in the air. It was distant, mutant-like. Taking another sniff, Logan tilted his head. Odd. The scent was familiar. Too familiar. With every breath he took, he was sure he knew that person. Thatâs when his eyes captured a figure limping through the rain forward. He straightened his back, eyes wide. Could it beâŠ?
âAm I delirious?â he heard the well-known feminine voice. âIs that the grumpiest man who ever lived?âÂ
Logan chuckled. Of course, she would greet him with words like that. âY/N?â What the hell was she doing there? âHoly shit, is that you? How the fuck?â he asked in disbelief.Â
âThatâs how you greet your good friend?â she asked, chuckling. Y/N came closer, trying to keep her weight off her right foot. âI was expecting confetti and champagne.âÂ
The cigarette was immediately abandoned. Logan walked into the rain. It took him five large steps to approach her. His big arms wrapped around her body in a tight hug. âThis has to be enough.â
âA warm hug from you? Worth it,â she laughed as she pressed her drenched clothes against his dry one. She rested her head against his hard chest, smiling. âBut seriously, what the fuck are you doing here? Of all places?âÂ
Logan looked at her, eyes travelling from head to toe. She was a mess. âI think I should be asking that question, donât ya think? Come on, letâs get your ass inside before you catch fucking pneumonia or something.â Before she could reply, Logan dragged her inside the school, away from the cold rain.Â
âHoly shit,â he heard her gasp when Y/N stepped inside. She kept twisting and turning on her heel, scanning the interior. Her mouth was open while trying to take it all in. âDonât tell me you fucking live here, Howlett,â and she punched him in the bicep. âHave you won the lottery?â
He held a chuckle and shook his head. âStill got that mouth on you,â he stated.Â
âAnd yet, you still love me,â she had gifted him with a bright smile. That quickly turned into a scowl and a gasp.Â
Logan noticed before she was limping. Now, under the light, he saw her swollen ankle. âWhat happened there, kid?â he pointed at her foot.Â
She looked down, eyeing her injury. âShit,â she mumbled. âOn my way here, I slipped on a fucking mud and twisted it. Otherwise, I am fine.â
He could smell the lie on her, but for now, he decided to ignore it. She would sing eventually. Logan knew her damn well. Fuck, he couldnât believe she was standing before him, here at school. Either this was the universe bringing them together or there were more lies behind those gorgeous eyes.Â
Her feet moved. She kept turning around, looking at the interior. âFancy. So, this is where you live now? What is this a school?â She stopped and turned back to him. âDonât tell me you are a teacher.âÂ
Logan watched as she wrapped her arms around her body. The wet clothes were hugging her figure in the right places. âI know itâs hard to believe but thatâs what I am now.âÂ
She chuckled. âFrom a fighting cage to becoming a teacher. Thatâs a plot twist I didnât see coming. What do you teach?âÂ
âEthics,â he said seriously. When he noticed how she raised a brow, he continued. âBelieve it or not, Iâm very good at it. Iâve got a way with words. Youâd be surprised.âÂ
âDid you lose your mind again while we were separated?â she asked. âThereâs no fucking way you, of all people, are teaching ethics. Thatâs⊠unethical.â
Thatâs when he started to laugh. He got her good. âNah, Iâm kidding, kid. I teach combat training or PE and history.âÂ
Y/N rolled her eyes, exhaling loudly. âFuck, you got me there.â Her whole body shivered. âS-so, how the hell did you end up being a teacher? Last time, we didnât have that much time to chit-chat. You were saving the same kids as I was.âÂ
Loganâs eyes couldnât watch how he kept shaking like an abandoned puppy. With long strides, he went to another room and reappeared with a fluffy blanket. He threw at her. âHere.âÂ
âThanks,â she smiled. She wrapped around her, sighing contentedly.
âY/N?âÂ
âYeah?â
âWhy the fuck are you here? And donât give me some shitty story. Tell me the truth,â he said strictly. He crossed his big arms over his chest, flexing them.Â
Y/N brushed the wet strands of hair from her face, her lips shivering. âI was sent here,â she said simply. Logan opened his mouth to demand more. âThis might sound crazy, although, in our world, nothing is fucking crazy. Someone contacted me - no, thatâs not the correct word. Someone connected with my mind. A telepath, a powerful one. He, I remember it was a male voice, helped me come here.âÂ
Logan shook his head in disbelief. âCharles,â he mumbled. âHeâs the founder and headmaster of this school. Heâs the one who contacted you.âÂ
âWell, shit,â she was surprised. âI was not expecting that. Does he know we know each other?â Y/N sneezed loudly. And then again. âThe better question is, why me?â
Logan wrapped an arm around her shoulders. âCome on. Letâs get you some dry clothes.â
âIs it okay that Iâm here? Itâs the middle of the night,â she had to ask while walking up the stairs, following her friend.Â
He snorted. âDonât play timid now, Y/L/N. This shit doesnât work on me.âÂ
One simple glare and he had to laugh. âDamn, you know me too well. But seriously, everyone is asleep and I feel like an intruder.âÂ
Logan took her to his room and closed the doors silently behind them. âYou are a fucking annoying intruder, but I donât mind, darlinâ,â he grinned at her. âWelcome to my room, donât fucking sit anywhere with those damn wet clothes.â Logan moved to his closet and took out a shirt with long sleeves and some boxers he never wore. Again, he threw the clothes at her like he did with the blanket, making her curse.Â
âIâll be swimming in those clothes.â
âShut up and be grateful.â Logan pointed at the second door in the room. âThatâs my bathroom - change, shower, do whatever you need.âÂ
âCareful with your words, mon ami,â she winked at him. âThank you, Loâ. I appreciate this.âÂ
âSave it, kid.âÂ
Y/N showed him her tongue on the way to the bathroom, grimacing before closing the door behind her.Â
Alone in Loganâs bathroom, she smiled. Damn, she missed him. He was the only man who treated her like an equal. They shared the same humour, the same views. He was a strong mutant and so was she.Â
Sighing, Y/N undressed from the wet clothes, hanging them on a heating rack to dry. Her ankle still hurt. She caught her reflection in the mirror. Bruises covered her body. Some of them still hurt like a bitch.Â
One quick shower later, she felt better, warmer. Although, she smelled like him. It made her smile. She had to use his shampoo because there wasnât anything else. In the end, it was better than nothing. As predicted, his clothes were too big for her. One of her shoulders was exposed, the boxers were low on her hips.Â
Logan was still in his bedroom when she walked out. First, their eyes locked. Then, his eyes travelled south, scanning her figure and his clothes hanging on her. Has she ever worn his clothes before? He dryly gulped. âYeah, you are swimming in my clothes,â he chuckled. âNow, get in the bed.â
âWoah, first buy me dinner you ass,â she laughed. âIâm not that easy.â
One glare and she was laughing even more. âOf course, you are the one with a rotten brain,â he commented. âOne night weâll share. We will figure out the rest tomorrow after you meet the rest of the X-men.âÂ
âI mean, we shared a bed once. It was during a winter, a shitty snowstorm got in our way,â Y/N grinned like a winner. âI was surprised when you cuddled me.âÂ
Logan rolled his eyes. âYou were cold and asked me to help you,â he reminded her.Â
âBut you decided to do it,â Y/N grinned at him. âIf youâd like, you can cuddle me tonight, too. I wouldnât mind.âÂ
âDamn you, woman,â he growled. âJust get in the damn bed and shut your noisy, annoying mouth.âÂ
âAgain, you love me,â she winked at him and climbed into the bed, taking the right side. Luckily, the bed was big enough to accommodate them together. âSo comfortable,â she sighed contentedly. âYou are treated well here.âÂ
âBenefit of being a teacher here,â he chuckled. âSleep, Y/N. Weâll talk more tomorrow.âÂ
Her eyes were heavy. She didnât have the energy to give him some witty comment. She simply turned her back to him, cuddling to her pillow, drifting into the realm of dreams.Â
At least for a few hours before she was up again, surrounded by darkness and gentle snoring. She turned her head to see the silhouette of her friend deep asleep. Sighing, she slowly left the bed, legs bringing her to a big window. The rain never stopped. It kept pouring on the grass, the wind swaying the trees. Her whole body ached. She had a couple of rough months behind her. Now, she was safe.Â
Y/N didnât slip on the mud. She was on the run for several days in searing pain. Her wrists remembered the cuffs around them, not letting her move. What mattered now was the fact that the dark times were gone and she was in a place where she had someone she knew well.
Logan shifted in the bed, turning on the other side, still asleep. At least he was able to do that now. Maybe his mind was in a better place, healed. He deserved it.Â
Y/N rested her elbows on a wooden window sill and put her head on her hands. Watching the rain was better than sleeping at this point. It soothed her, washed away the pain, the distress.Â
In the morning, when she came out of the bathroom, Logan was sitting on his bed, frowning. âAlready grumpy?â Y/N asked with a teasing smile.Â
âYou didnât sleep,â he glared at her.Â
âI did,â she crossed her arms over her chest. âNot the whole night, but at least a few hours.â There was no point in lying.
He shook his head. âStaring at the rain is better than resting in the bed?â he asked. âI knew damn well you were standing at the window for hours.âÂ
âYou are a damn spy,â she said dramatically. âFine, I was up. So what?âÂ
âYou should have rested, kid.â
âIf you knew I was up, why didnât you say anything?â she challenged.Â
A sigh escaped his lips. âYou are a pain in the ass, ya know that?â He huffed. âI figured you needed a moment to collect your thoughts, as you like to say.â
Without a word, he stood up and locked himself in the bathroom. Y/N rolled her eyes. Grumpy Logan in the morning was a blessing. She fixed the clothes on her body, sighing at how loose everything was. Her own clothes didnât smell good. They needed a good wash.Â
Her ears registered noise coming out of the hallway. The voices shaded into each other. The students were up and ready to start their day. At first, she thought thereâd be only a few kids. By the sounds of it, there had to be way more. How many kids did they save?Â
Once Logan was out, he was already in his jeans, just putting on his white tank top. It was only a second but Y/N got a perfect glimpse of his hard abs and a path of hair. Her eyes moved up to his face.Â
âIâm taking you to Charles,â he said. âSince he was the one who brought you here.âÂ
Y/N showed him a thumbs-up. A second later, she stopped. âWait, I canât meet him like this,â she pointed at how she was dressed. Logan's clothes were too big on her body. Also, it would look⊠weird. What would the people around here think?Â
âGive me a minute,â he said and left the room, leaving Y/N standing there alone.Â
Logan came to a different room, knocking on it. It took ten seconds for the person to open the door. His eyes met with Rogueâs. âItâs too early to give me any pep-talk you have in mind,â she said, annoyed.
âI need a favour,â he said.Â
That piqued Rogueâs interest. âAlright, what is it?âÂ
âI need to borrow some female clothes,â he said, not looking at her. He wanted to avoid that teasing look on her face. âBefore you start asking shit⊠I have a friend here and she needs some clothes to wear.âÂ
She crossed her arms over her chest, grinning. âA friend you say? Is it really just a friend, Logan? What happened to her clothes? Are they torn?âÂ
He glared at her. âWill you help me out or nah?âÂ
Rogue bit her lower lip, trying her best not to laugh at him. âWhat is her sizing?â she asked.Â
Logan described her body type. He didnât give her too many details. Just enough so Rogue had a picture of her. âI think I have something here. Can I meet her?â she asked.Â
âYou are nosy, ya know that?â he tilted his head, patience wearing off slowly. âYouâll meet her later, okay? I have to take her to Charles. He was the one who brought her here.â
âHuh?â she was confused. âHold on,â and hid in her room where she tried to find some clothes that would fit Loganâs mysterious female friend. Once she handed him the clothes, she put a teasing smile on her face. âI wanna meet her.âÂ
âLater, kid,â he waved a hand. He went back to his room.Â
When he entered, Y/N was sitting on the bed, looking at her nails. He threw the clothes at her. They smacked her face. âHere, put this on.âÂ
She raised a brow. âWhose clothes are these? Please donât tell me your girlfriendâs, that would be fucking weird.âÂ
âThey belong to a student I saved some time ago,â he explained. âSheâs a good kid. She also has a big mouth. You two would be great friends,â he chuckled.Â
Y/N made a face. âKinda hard to believe, but okay.â Taking her clothes, she went back to the bathroom to change. To her surprise, the clothes fit her nicely. They were simple sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Once she got out, Loganâs bed was perfectly made.Â
He noticed some bruises on her arms but decided not to comment on it yet.
Logan took Y/N through the vast hallways of the school to the lower levels where Charles had an office. Some students eyed Y/N from head to toe, not knowing what to think of her. There were whispers here and there, pointing their fingers in her direction.Â
âI feel like I am a zoo animal,â she snarled a little. âIâm surprised they are not taking pictures of me, yet.âÂ
âGive it time,â he teased.Â
âFucking great.âÂ
Logan knocked on the office door three times before entering. For the first time, Y/N was able to see the man who connected with her mind. He was old, bald, in a wheelchair and dressed fancy.Â
âY/N,â he said her name with a smile. âIâm glad you are here. Please, sit.â Then, he turned his eyes to Logan. âThank you for bringing her. Iâll speak with her alone.âÂ
The Wolverine didnât comment on it. He gave him a nod, patter Y/Nâs shoulder and left the Professor and his friend alone in the office to talk.Â
Typical Professor. Heâd keep his secrets to himself until things when to shit. Logan hoped heâd give him an explanation. And if not him, he would hear it from Y/N.Â
Damn that woman. They had known each other for many years before he became a teacher at this school. They were close, sometimes wondering how close they would be if⊠He shook his head. It was useless to think that way. Yes, she was fucking sexy and beautiful. He would be lying if he said the opposite. It made him question things back in the day. Even now, when he saw her face this morning, there was a question lingering in his mind. What if..?
âWhere is she?â Rogue startled him. âI wanna see her.âÂ
âJeez, kid. You are acting as if you want to catch Santa during Christmas,â he said.Â
Logan and Rogue walked into the kitchen. He made himself a coffee while Rogue got cereal and milk. She had that teasing smile on her lips, waiting for something juicy from Logan.
âIâm curious. Is she pretty?âÂ
He almost choked on the coffee. âShit,â he mumbled and coughed.Â
âWell, she must be if you are acting this way,â Rogue smiled.Â
âWhat do you mean, kid? I act normally. The damn coffee went down the wrong pipe,â he glared at her and put the mug on the counter.Â
âWhatever you say, Logan,â she giggled. âHow come you never told me about this friend of yours? Or shall I call her a crush?âÂ
âHave you ever told me about your friends?â he asked back. âAnd what am I, five?â
She put a full spoon of cereal in her mouth and shrugged. âThis is different,â she said after swallowing the food. âI can confidently say I know you well, Logan. But since this morning, there is this different energy coming out of you.â
âHow is this different?âÂ
âItâs you we are talking about,â she said. âThe grumpy guy who doesnât let anyone in. And suddenly, there is a woman that is supposedly his friend. Ask anyone, theyâd say itâs⊠unusual.âÂ
His ears registered the sound of wheels and Y/Nâs gentle voice approaching. He took a deep breath, preparing for their entrance. It seemed Charles had decided to give her a tour. When they entered the kitchen, Logan noticed how Rogueâs eyes widened when her eyes captured Y/N at the door in her clothes.Â
And they both smiled at each other. Fuck. Rogue and Y/N would be a deadly combo for him. He would never hear the end of their nagging and teasing.
âYouâve met Logan,â Charles chuckled. âThis is Rogue. Logan saved her some time ago.âÂ
âHi!â Rogue said cheerfully, too cheerfully for Loganâs liking. âItâs so nice to finally meet you.â
âYou will meet more people as the day goes by,â Charles said to Y/N. âSome of them are on a mission in Salt Lake City. They should be back in a day or two.âÂ
Logan turned his gaze to Y/N. âSo, you are staying?â It sounded rougher than he intended to. He would be glad to have her here, with him. âWow, wasnât expecting that,â he added.Â
She shrugged. âI think itâs time to lay low. My life has been hectic for years. Now, I got the opportunity to have some sort of stability - in a matter of speaking.âÂ
âIf you excuse me,â Charles said politely, âI have a class to teach. We will speak together more this afternoon. Weâll arrange a room for you and some clothes since you donât own anything.âÂ
âThank you.âÂ
 . . .
Y/N sat alone in a room they assigned her. Some would say it was small. To her, it was luxurious and vast. She never had a room like this. As a kid, she would share the sleeping space with other kids. And then, she would travel from place to place, sleeping wherever it was possible - benches, couches or in a van when she was with Logan.Â
She thought about the time she would spend time with him. How they would share his van. That man had a kind heart. He wouldnât let her freeze to death when he found her. And since that day, their friendship blossomed.Â
That man. Shit. Was there a time when she imagined his hard muscles under her hands? Yes, many times. When they were together, she could never cross that line. It was rare to have a good friend in her life who was willing to take her in like a stray. She wouldnât want to screw that up.Â
A knock brought her back to reality. Rogue came inside her room with a gentle smile tugging at her lips. âHi,â she greeted Y/N.Â
âHi, uh, Rogue, right?âÂ
âYes,â she nodded. âIs it okay to come?â
âSure,â Y/N pointed at the spot next to her on the bed. âSo, you are the girl who gave me some clothes to wear,â she tugged at her sweatpants. âThanks. That was very kind.âÂ
Rogue kept the smile. âI know whatâs like not to have any clothes. They gave me everything when I got here. I have a bed to sleep on, food to eat and friends.âÂ
Y/N nodded. âThatâs good.âÂ
âSo, whatâs up with you and Logan?â she asked boldly, making Y/N snap her head up and look at the girl.
âWe are friends,â Y/N said, unsure what Rogue meant by it. âWeâve known each other for years. We separated a while back and now, the universe has brought us together,â she explained.Â
âUniverse,â Rogue grinned.Â
The door opened without knocking. Logan walked in as if it was his room. âSure, come on in, this room is a public space,â Y/N commented with a smirk plastered on her lips. âWhat do you want?âÂ
Logan glared at Rogue. âWhat are you doing here, kid?âÂ
âGetting to know your friend,â she smiled at him. It was followed by a wink.Â
âDonât you have classes?â he questioned.Â
Rogue huffed, annoyed by him. âWeâll talk later,â she waved a hand as she was leaving Y/Nâs new room. She gave Logan one last teasing look before she left.Â
âYou are such a dad,â Y/N laughed at Logan. âStrict hand, not taking any shit.âÂ
Logan poked her forehead, making her laugh. âHave you hurt your head, kid? You are talking shit.âÂ
âWhat? You donât like being called a dad? How about âdaddyâ?â she put a wicked smile on her face, waiting for his reaction. When his eyes widened and his nostrils flared, she started to laugh at him.Â
Logan shook his head. âI think itâs time for you to start singing, Y/N.â His voice got deeper. The teasing was gone. He demanded answers. âI talked to Charles. He didnât want to tell me what happened to you, or the exact reason why he found you. In his words, you should be the one to tell me.âÂ
Y/N eyes lowered. She knew it would eventually come. Her eyes trailed over the few bruises that were on her arms. âI was locked in a mutant testing lab,â she whispered.Â
âWhat?!â Loganâs voice raised. âHow long?âÂ
She rolled her eyes from one side to the other, counting the days. âOver a month,â she said. âI got information that they had some kids locked there and I wanted to get them out. My goal was to take them to an underground network that helped mutants. Unfortunately, they captured me and locked me with them.â
âY/N,â he sighed.Â
âDonât,â she glared at him. âYou werenât there. You donât know what happened. Donât be over-protective when you were here, living your life.âÂ
She was right. He wasnât with her. He didnât have the right to act this way. âWhat happened there?â Loganâs voice sounded more neutral. The anger behind it subsided.Â
Y/N started to play with her fingers, picking up dirt under her nails that wasnât there. âThey experimented on us, abused us,â she shrugged. âI wanted to get us away, but I only made it worse.âÂ
âWhat happened?â he demanded this time.Â
âI blew up the whole place!â she raised her voice. Her eyes met his. âMany people died. I wanted to get them out and I⊠I killed them, Logan.âÂ
Y/Nâs mutation was a dangerous one. She was able to blow things up. Because she lacked control over the mutation, no wonder things went quickly south. âI didnât want to,â her voice broke. âIâve never done anything like that before.âÂ
âHoly shit,â Logan shook his head. âHow many dead?âÂ
âI donât know. I panicked and ran away,â she admitted. âEverything was on fire.âÂ
There was silence between them. Logan wasnât commenting on it. Y/N didnât want to talk more about it. It was too fresh. The wounds didnât heal. She killed many people, including mutants.Â
âSo that ankle,â he pointed at her leg. She wasnât limping that day, but it was still a little swollen. âYou didnât slip on a mud.â
She shook her head. âNo. All injuries were fromâŠâ her voice faded into nothing. Y/Nâs head lowered, not daring to look at Logan. She tried to hold back the tears and not to cry. She felt ashamed of lying, not telling the truth to the one man she kind of trusted. âCanât believe the Professor wants me here after everything.âÂ
âThis is the problem,â Logan started to talk. âYou never told me when something went to shit. Whether it was you being attacked as it happened at the Canadian borders when we travelling together. Or when your powers got out of control. Now, itâs still the same. Here I thought you could trust me.âÂ
âIâm sorry,â she jumped in. âI didnât want to seem like a damsel in distress or a weak mutant that doesnât have things under control. Plus, itâs not something I wanted to brag about when there were casualties.â
âAnd again, you didnât have your mutation under control,â he spat. Logan was upset and he didnât understand why. âWhy do I have a feeling that you cannot trust me? After all those years? You think Iâd judge you? Come on, princess.âÂ
âI trust you.âÂ
âDo you?âÂ
She opened her mouth to argue. Logan stopped her by raising a hand. âDonât even try.â
The anger mixed with dread. Logan cared for her more than he ever realised. However, he was upset that she didnât trust him enough to tell him what happened. She had to lie just to present herself as strong and brave.Â
He went out to smoke and calm down. Why couldnât she admit that she fucked up and was injured? Stubborn woman.Â
. . .
Logan and Y/N didnât talk for the rest of the day. She stayed in her room, hidden from the world while he dealt with students. Also, he wanted to know more information from Charles. He gave him a better glimpse into what happened. It seemed some mutants got away before Y/N blew up the whole building.Â
âI canât believe she didnât tell me anything about it,â he said.Â
Charles sighed. âI understand you two share some past. Your paths separated for some time and things changed. You canât blame her for not trusting you enough.â
Logan frowned at him. âYou know awfully a lot, Charles.â
âSometimes your mind is too loud, opened for telepaths like an invitation to an open house,â he said with a chuckle.Â
âThen donât snoop around,â said Logan.Â
Charles took a deep breath, ready to speak, when his face went stoic. He knew something was off. âShe wants to leave,â he announced. âRogue is talking to her at the entrance door.âÂ
âFuck,â Logan gritted his teeth. His legs took him out of the office and straight to the front door where Rogue was talking to Y/N. The woman had new clothes on her and a backpack. She was serious about leaving.Â
âStay,â Rogue said. âYou need to talk it out.â
Y/N shook her head. âI have to leave. Too many ghosts in the closet,â she shrugged.Â
âYouâre not goin anywhere,â Logan lurched forward. âYou just came here and I ainât letting you go that easily.âÂ
âLogan,â she sighed.Â
âNo,â he shook his head. He grabbed her by the forearm and dragged her back inside the mansion. âI get that you re upset about what happened, but we can talk about it and deal with it together.âÂ
âLogan, itâs not that easy, I killed all those peopleâŠâ
He huffed. âY/N, stop it, okay,â he shook his head. âWe can help you here. We can make you understand your mutation better. You will train with us, how to use it, how to control it. What do you say?â It seemed as if he was pleading now.Â
She opened her mouth, ready to ramble some more. Logan reached for her, grabbing her by the neck and pressing her body close to his. His lips found hers in a kiss that took her breath away.Â
Rogueâs mouth almost dropped to the floor, but she was glad that Logan made the step. She knew that man liked Y/N. Because she didnât want to ruin the moment, she slowly stepped away from them, giving them space.Â
When Y/N slowly pushed away from Logan, she was speechless. Like a fish on a dry land, her mouth was opening and closing without making a sound.Â
âStay,â Logan said softly. âCome on, princess. Let me help you, give you a safe place.âÂ
She bit her lower lip. âWill it come with more kisses from you?â
He snorted. âAs much as you want, darling.âÂ
#Logan Howlett x reader#Logan Howlett x female reader#Logan Howlett#Logan Howlett fanfiction#Wolverine x reader#Wolverine x female reader#Wolverine fanfiction#Marvel fanfiction#x-men fanfiction
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summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.
idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k
content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkookâs pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & iâm stealing u from ur bf đâ mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (heâs hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while heâs driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesnât) (iâm kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jkâs cheek scar to get a kissy here u go đ„ș
> in which masterlist!
note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this⊠iâm glad iâm posting this after golden came out just so i could say it đ„° this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if uâve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past đ„ș wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! đ„ș
â
jungkook loves the sound of rainâ the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.
tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.
and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.
youâre exactly where you told him youâd wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.
youâre too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.
âoh no, really, iâm fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.â
jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.
â____, baby!â
upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.
âjungkook!â
you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.
âyah, yah-yah! be careful!â he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.
âhey, iâm going back inside- thereâs more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?â
the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkookâs protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.
he wasnât planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?
âoh- alright! thank you, jun!â
âyou better take care of ____, man. itâs dangerous around here during this time.â
he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.
âyeah, of course i am,â
junâs nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkookâs hoodie in search of warmth.
âiâm here now, so thereâs no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.â
he nods, then forces himself to smile. âthatâs good, then.â
âyeah, thanks. weâre leaving.â
âoh, okay. have a nice night!â
âyou too,â
he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishmentâ but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.
his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.
is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesnât care. heâs always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.
he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.
âwho was that?â
âeh, new bartender,â you shrug with disinterest. âhm, i think heâs 31âŠ? heâs nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.â
he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.
what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.
âthe tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. itâs all iâve been seeing! i donât like it-â you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.
an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how youâre looking at him like youâre begging him to do something about it.
âmakes me nervous,â
his dominant hand closes into a fist.
if he only he had known. shouldâve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.
âletâs watch something calming when we get home, how about that?â
you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste itâ the peach margarita you started sipping on before the bandâs first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.
out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.
âi missed you!â
âbabe, are you seriously drunk?â he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.
âmaaaybe tipsyâŠ? i was pretending not to be.â you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. âonly trust you.â
â
âi shouldâve accepted the umbrella.â you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkookâs back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.
âyah!â he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. âwhat does that mean?â
âiâm embarrassed! theyâre probably feeling bad for you.â
the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances youâve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriendâs car.
unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobarâs parking lot was already full.
you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.
âour shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,â he said. âif i carry you, wouldnât it be better?â
âembarrassing? some would even say romantic!â
something peculiar happens thenâ when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.
âi love you,â you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.
he doesnât know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.
as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.
you mistake his silence for something else.
you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. âare you still mad at me?â
he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. âno? i was wrong. i shouldnât have questioned your decision in the first place⊠why would i be mad?â
you started playing the drums for your friendâs band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.
he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.
isnât ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.
three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to âwhyâd you only call me when youâre high?â as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. youâre working hard so he must do the same.
he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if heâs being honest, the two of you didnât do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.
and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.
much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flameâ loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.
jungkook didnât agree with this decision. he didnât understand why youâd sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasnât easy for you, and he couldnât hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.
maybe heâs only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesnât sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.
âiâm just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.â
you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.
what the fuck. too bright.
âme tooâŠâ
â
âiâm bored,â you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driverâs seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.
his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isnât very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.
âforty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.â
âwhatever i want?â
he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.
âof course,â he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. âjust tell me what it is, baby.â
he doesnât catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.
âthen iâll tell you when i figure out what i want,â you say quietly.
âi thought you already had something in mind?â
ânope,â you answer with yet another sigh.
you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.
jungkookâs senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. âare you okay?â
âiâm okay,â
âyou sure?â
âhmm,â you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.
he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, pleaseâ desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.
the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that youâre quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.
he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that youâre tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours⊠but he selfishly wishes that youâre awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.
be careful of what you wish for, they said.
jungkook should know better by now.
âi canât sleep,â he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him youâre in need of some love⊠but he isnât given the chance to act upon that request because youâre already all over what it is that you need.
he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thighâ zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.
youâre so pretty. everywhere.
even when naked and bare.
no, especially. itâs all he can think about.
he can draw you from memory.
â____,â he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.
the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that heâll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.
âshit, not now, baby- please- not while iâm driving.â
your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.
a minx, thatâs what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.
â____, iâm not joking around. donât make me mad-â
his warning is cut short by-
âfuck⊠fuck,â he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.
okay, so he couldnât feel it because you werenât skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.
youâre so incredibly nasty and evil for thisâ squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive heâs gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.
and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.
â____! behave! youâre going to get us killed!â
he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.
while heâs driving? really?
doesnât this only happen in wet dreams?
you are not real.
âthen pull over,â you plead. âplease?â
he releases a shaky breath. youâre always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldnât be here to give you what you wanted.
âno, you need to learn how to be patient⊠told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?â
wrong move.
the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.
jungkookâs heart breaks into a million pieces.
also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.
you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.
âhavenât i been patient enoughâŠ? i missed you so much.â
âand i missed you too!â he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. âfuck, you have no idea how much⊠please, donât cry.â
âthen pull over,â you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. âfuck me at the backseat.â
âcanât,â he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. âweâre going to have to do it without protection.â
âwhat do you mean?â you exclaim.
you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.
âjungkook, i hate you!â
âwell right now i hate myself too!â he cries out in frustration. âi didnât have the time to buy more, okay?â
âand thereâs not one in your wallet?â
âbabe, are you serious?!â
âwhat?!â
somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.
but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.
âstop the car,â you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.
he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. âhuh?â
âi said stop the car, iâm stepping out.â
âbabe, come on,â he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. âplease, donât be like this. i just got home.â
âjungkook! if you donât let me get off this car right now, i swear!â
the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.
he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.
âbaby, stop being stu-â
he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.
ââŠbbornâŠâ
he blinks.
he inhales. he exhales.
and then he buries his face in his hands to scream⊠as quietly as possible.
âwhat the fuck was in that margarita?!â
â
jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.
his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.
there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; thereâs no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.
except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.
he turns around, and he knows itâs going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movieâ because youâre jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.
â____, where did you go?! you canât just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!â
âi forgot my wallet!â you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. âi found a hotteok cart!â
his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.
you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.
he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. âwha- i thought you⊠you didnât have money?â
you shake your head to answer his question.
âthen how are you already eating?â
you take another bite from the hot hotteok youâre holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.
âi was already eating when i realized it,â you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. âso he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?â
âyouâre impossible!â he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.
he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.
youâre pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.
âi bought three, by the way.â you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. âthe last three then mister can go home.â
you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. âhave you even had dinner?â
âjust the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?â
he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesnât get to say anything more about it because youâve reached the hotteok cart, and heâs already handing the vendor the money.
âthank you!â he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.
âno, this is yours.â you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. âthen weâll split the third one. itâs really good!â
the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.
â
youâre sat together on the hood of jungkookâs car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.
âdo you want drums as your christmas gift?â
âlove,â you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. âi can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum setâŠ? not to mention that i canât even cry without my neighbor hearing it.â
his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriendâs back in an attempt to comfort him.
âyou must really want to see me play, donât you?â
âiâm dying to,â he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. âi canât believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didnât even see you onceâŠ! even that fucking bartender⊠this- this canât be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?â
âaw, my baby,â you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.
âi donât trust him, by the way,â he scoffs. âas much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alrightâŠ? if i see him touching you one more time, i donât know what iâll end up doing to him.â
âi donât like him either,â you giggle. âso thatâs easy.â
he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you havenât sobered up.
â____, iâm serious. heâs weird. iâm worried about you but i canât always be here to protect you.â
you blink at him innocently. âi am too! serious!â
âyou promise me?â
âi promise!â
he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. âi should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?â
âif that will ease your mind,â you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.
comfortable silence follows suit.
the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.
he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention heâs receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but itâs true.
âcome ooon, donât be sad! iâll make it up to you! but itâs a surprise!â
âsurprise?â he eyes you with suspicion. âwhat surprise?â
âjust trust me, alright?â
you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.
âcan i make a guess?â
ânope!â
you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.
âdonât you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!â
â
youâre back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.
jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. youâre tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.
âwhen are you going to start getting tattoos?â you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. âi think youâd look so pretty.â
âiâm planning on it.â
his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.
he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. âyou really think so? pretty?â
âhm, hot, too,â you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. âbut as long as youâre happy, then nothing else matters.â
âof course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.â he reminds you once he recognizes the path youâre taking.
a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.
âwhat do you want? i donât mind cooking.â
âfor you to fuck me, thatâs what i want. you wonât mind that, too?â
oh my fucking god.
he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldnât have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.
âbaby, arenât you still sore from this morning?â
âa little,â he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. âbut i want you.â
your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.
âcan you just bring it up when we get near your house? youâre killing me over here!â
âbut why? iâm having fun.â you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. âi love you. youâre so cute.â
âare you⊠are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?â
his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.
âwhy not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.â
jungkook doesnât need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out thereâs another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isnât at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.
you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. heâs wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like heâs laughing, but heâs notâ almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.
how did he get so lucky?
rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.
you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.
âwhat are we doing here?â
jungkook only spares you a glance. âget in the backseat, baby.â
â
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LAST DECEMBER MORNING â SATORU GOJO
pairing â satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader
summary â on a frost-bitten december morning, you watch satoru gojo prepare for his fated battle with sukuna with infuriating calm, like he isn't planning to sacrifice himself for the greater good. you've spent years being his secret, clearing battlefields for him and stealing kisses between missions, but now you're faced with the most brutal truth. that sometimes the cruelest curse isn't the one that kills you â it's loving someone who belongs to the world before they belong to you.
word count â 5.4 k
warnings â heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood and violence, implied death, unhealthy relationship, sad ending
author's note â this has been rotting in my drafts since the final jjk chapter dropped, and i finally dragged it out into the light bc i'm procrastinating uni. fair warning, this is pure angst with zero comfort, just two people breaking each other's hearts because sometimes love isn't enough. anywayys, happy reading <3
masterlist
Winter had never felt so much like an ending.
You watched frost creep across the windows of your shared apartment, each crystalline pattern forming like cracks in glass, spreading slowly but inevitably.
Outside, the world lay hushed under winter's blanket, everything soft and serene. Birds traced lazy patterns against a sky so blue it hurt to look at, and fresh snow made everything clean and new.
It was the kind of morning that belonged in fairy tales, the kind poets write about when they want to capture peace in words. Strange, how you'd never imagined death would choose such a beautiful day.
You watched Satoru move through his routine, each gesture precise and unhurried. White hair caught the pale sunlight as he smoothed it back, his reflection in the mirror handsome as ever before he adjusted his clothes, and put on his blindfold.
You'd watched him prepare for countless missions before, but this felt different. This felt final.
The normality of it all was almost cruel â how he could stand there, getting ready like this was just another day, just another fight. Like the sun wasn't rising on what could be your last morning together.
The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, each second falling like a stone into still water. Time felt strange, both rushing too fast and moving too slow. You wanted to grab the clock's hands, force them to stop, to give you just a few more moments in this morning that felt like borrowed time.
"You're staring," he said without turning around, a slight smile playing at his lips.
"Can you blame me?" You were curled up in the window seat, tea growing cold in your hands. "It's not every day yourâ whatever we are goes to fight the King of Curses."
He turned then, and even through the blindfold, you could feel the weight of his gaze. "Whatever we are?" There was amusement in his tone. "After all this time, you still don't know what we are?"
"Well, we're not exactly big on labels," you pointed out, trying to keep your voice light despite the heaviness in your chest. "Secret relationship and all that."
"Ah, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it?" He crossed the room to where you sat, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "The sneaking around, the secret meetingsâ"
"Satoru." You caught his hand. "How are you so calm about this?"
He tilted his head, considering. "Would you prefer if I was panicking?"
"I'd prefer if you showed any emotion at all about the fact that you're about to fight Sukuna." You stood up, setting your tea aside. "You've been acting like this is just another day, just another fight, but it's not. You know it's not."
"I think I've shown plenty of emotion," he said, pulling you closer with a playful smile. "Just last night, if I recallâ"
"Don't." You pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him at arm's length. "Don't deflect. Not today."
The smile faded from his face, replaced by something more serious. "What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to tell me why you're so calm. I want you to tell me why you're not worried." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on. "I want you to tell me why it feels like you're saying goodbye."
He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing patterns on your wrist where he still held it. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "The world needs to move forward. It needs to find someone stronger."
"What are you talking about?" You pulled back slightly. "You're the strongest there is."
"Am I?" His smile was gentle, almost sad. "Or is that just what everyone needs to believe?"
"Satoruâ"
"The world has relied on me for too long," he continued. "They've made me their symbol, their savior, their stupid hero. But what happens when I'm gone? Who protects them then?"
"You're not going anywhere," you said. "You're going to win. You always win."
He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "Sometimes winning isn't about surviving. Sometimes it's about making sure what comes after is better than what came before."
"That's not funny."
"I'm not trying to be funny." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm trying to tell you that whatever happens today, the world will keep turning. It will find new leaders, new protectors. Maybe even better ones."
"I don't want new protectors," you whispered. "I want you."
"Ah, but you've always had me," he said softly. "Ever since that first mission together, when you told me my head was too big to fit through doorways. Do you remember?"
You huffed. "You were showing off, making everything more complicated than it needed to be."
"I was trying to impress you."
"You're always trying to impress me."
"But it's working, right?"
You pressed closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent. "You know it is, you idiot."
He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. For a moment, you both stood there in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of how this all began, of the first time you'd been close enough to hear his heart race.
For loving Satoru Gojo had always been the most beautiful and dangerous thing in your world.
It started in blood, as most things in your world did. A mission gone wrong, cursed spirits thick in the air, the metallic taste of death sharp on your tongue. Youâd seen him fight beforeâwho hadnât?
But that night was different. That night, you saw him bleed.
A special-grade curse caught you both off guard. One moment, he fought three curses at once like some untouchable god, and the next, he was crashing through three buildings, blood gushing from his mouth.
Something in your chest cracked at the sight â not from the impact of being thrown back yourself, but from seeing him, the strongest sorcerer alive, look so terrifyingly human.
You remembered how his blindfold had been torn, those devastating blue eyes meeting yours across the wreckage. Blood trickled down his chin, his usually perfect hair matted with debris, and yet he smiled. That damn smile that made your heart stutter even as cursed spirits attacked you from all sides.
âTrying to steal my spotlight?â heâd joked, wiping blood from his lips as he stood. âIâm the only one allowed to look cool here.â
You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to scream at him for making jokes when he could have died. You did none of those things. Instead, you cleared the area, giving him the perfect opening he needed to obliterate the special grade.
Later, after the dust had settled and the reports had been filed, he cornered you in the darkened hallway of Jujutsu High.
âYouâre angry,â he said, not a question but a statement.
âIâm not angry.â You were furious. âIâm just wondering how someone whoâs supposed to be the strongest can be so fucking reckless.â
He stepped closer, backing you against the wall. âWorried about me?â
âYou wish.â But your voice shook, betraying you. Because you had been worried. Terrified, actually. The image of him lying in that wreckage, blood staining his white hair red, had burned itself into your mind.
âLiar,â he whispered, and then his lips were on yours.
Everything they said about Satoru Gojo was true â he was overwhelming, all-consuming, impossible to resist. Kissing him felt like being struck by lightning, like being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. You broke apart, both breathing hard, and reality came crashing back.
âFuck,â you summarized eloquently.
He laughed, the sound low and rich. âThat could be arranged.â
âSatoru.â You pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm. âWe canât.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause youâre you. Because Iâm me. Because there are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea.â
âIâm only hearing excuses.â He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. âNot actual reasons.â
And that was how it started â with blood and curses and kisses in dark hallways. With terrible ideas that felt too good to resist.
Keeping it secret was both easier and harder than you expected. Easier because everyone already knew how Satoru was â flirtatious, tactile, always pushing boundaries. No one questioned when he draped himself over your desk during meetings or appeared uninvited in your office and stayed for hours.
Harder because every moment felt like a lie of omission. Harder because you had to watch him walk into danger again and again, had to maintain professional distance when all you wanted was to grab him and never let go.
You stole moments where you could find them. Quick kisses in empty classrooms, heated encounters between missions, quiet nights in your apartment when the world thought he was somewhere else entirely.
It ate at you sometimes. Not because you wanted to announce it to the world, but because each moment felt borrowed, stolen from a future you might never have.
Every time he left for a mission, every time he faced another curse, you wondered if this would be it. If this would be the time your last memory of him would be a secret smile across a meeting room, a cryptic message that no one else understood. But then heâd come back, always with that insufferable smile, usually with some ridiculous story about how amazing heâd been.
Heâd find ways to touch you in public that looked casual â a hand at the small of your back during briefings, fingers brushing as he passed you documents, his body angled toward yours in crowded rooms like a sunflower seeking light.
And the worst part? The absolute worst part was how good he was at pretending. How easily he maintained his public persona â the untouchable, unbeatable Satoru Gojo, who flirted with everyone and meant it with no one.
Sometimes youâd catch him looking at you in meetings with the same expression he gave everyone else, and for a moment, youâd wonder if youâd imagined everything between you.
But then night would fall, and heâd show up at your door with takeout and that soft smile he saved just for you. Heâd kiss you like he was trying to apologize for every moment he had to pretend you were nothing special, like he was trying to prove that this, the two of you, was the only real thing in his world.
You never talked about the future. How could you? In your line of work, tomorrow was never guaranteed. Each mission could be your last, each kiss could be your goodbye. The closest you ever came to acknowledging it was in the desperate way heâd hold you after a close call, in the way youâd trace his features in the dark like you were trying to memorize them by touch.
Some nights, when sleep eluded you both, heâd tell you about the weight of being the strongest, about the exhaustion of being everyoneâs last hope.
Heâd whisper his fears into your skin â not of death or defeat, but of failing those who believed in him. Those were the moments when the great Satoru Gojo disappeared, leaving just Satoru, just a man who carried the world on his shoulders and made it look easy.
You lived for those moments. The quiet ones, the real ones, the ones where he wasnât the strongest sorcerer alive but just yours. Just as you were his.
You carved out your own little infinity in the spaces between battles and duties. A secret world where his laugh wasnât for show, where your touch wasnât professional, where you could just be the two of you without the weight of expectations and reputations.
But infinity, as it turned out, had limits. Even his.
Looking at him now, preparing to face Sukuna with that same causality he brought to everything, you wondered if this was how your story was always meant to end. If all those stolen moments were just preparing you for this â one last morning, one last smile, one last chance to pretend tomorrow might come.
The world needed someone stronger, he said. But you needed him. And maybe that was the cruelest curse of all â loving someone the world needed more than you did.
"Promise me something," you said then.
"Hmm?"
"Promise me you won't just give up. Promise me you'll fight to come back."
He pulled back slightly, reaching up to remove his blindfold. His striking blue eyes met yours, intense and clear.
"I promise," he said, "that everything I do today will be for a better tomorrow."
"That's not what I asked."
"It's the only promise I can make."
"Stop." Your voice turned sharp, anger finally breaking through. "Stop talking about tomorrow. Stop talking about the future and the next generation and whatever noble sacrifice you think you need to make. I don't care about any of that."
"Don't you?"
"No, I don't." You grabbed his jacket, fingers twisting in the fabric. "I don't care if the world needs someone stronger. I don't care if the next generation needs to step up. I care about you, you impossible man. I want you here, alive, with me. Is that so wrong? Am I not allowed to be selfish when it comes to you?"
"Huh." He caught your hands in his, but didn't pull them away from his jacket. "And here I thought you understood me better than anyone."
"Don't." You tried to pull away, but he held firm. "Don't you dare try to make this about understanding. I understand perfectly. But you're wrong. You don't have to do this."
His smile faltered slightly. "It's not that simple."
"It is that simple!" Your voice cracked. "You're choosing to make it complicated. You're choosing to walk away, to... to what? Make some grand statement about the future? Prove that the world can survive without the great Satoru Gojo?"
"Someone has to."
"But why does it have to be you?" The words burst out of you, raw and desperate. "Why do you have to be the one to show them? Why can't you just fight to win, to live, to come back toâ" You cut yourself off, biting back the words that wanted to follow.
"To you?" he finished softly.
"Yes," you said, dropping your forehead against his chest. "To me. Call me selfish, call me short-sighted, I don't care. I want more mornings like this. More everything. More of you, being insufferably calm and making terrible jokes and acting like the world isn't ending when we both know it might be."
He was quiet for a moment, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than before.
"I can't promise to come back." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But know this, every moment with you has been worth fighting for. Worth living for."
You pulled back enough to look at him, really look at him. "Then fight for more moments. Fight to make more memories. Fight to come back to me, not for some greater purpose or stupid sacrifice, but because you want to."
"And if I told you that wanting isn't enough?"
"Then I'd call you a liar." Your voice turned cold. "Because you're Satoru fucking Gojo. When has anything ever been impossible for you? When have you ever let anyone tell you what you can't do?"
ââ"This is differentâ"
"How? How is this different? Because it's Sukuna? Because it's the fate of jujutsu society? Or because you've already decided how this story ends?"
His hands tightened on you, and for a moment, just a moment, you saw something flicker behind those blue eyes â doubt, fear, longing, you couldn't tell. But then it was gone, replaced by that same calm certainty that made you want to scream.
"Because I can't protect everyoneâcan't protect you if I allow myself to believe in a tomorrow," he whispered.
The gentleness in his voice, the soft way he delivered words meant to cut, made you want to tear the world apart. It was so perfectly Satoru â to break your heart like he was doing you a favor, to wound you with a tenderness that felt more cruel than any violence could be.
"I never asked you to protect me," you said finally. "I asked you to stay. There's a difference."
"Is there?" His hand came up to cup your face, shaking ever so slightly, betraying the calm he fought so hard to maintain. "Because every time I look at you, all I can think about is how many people would use you to get to me. How many would hurt you just to prove they could touch something I care about."
"So your solution is to what? Die nobly? Make sure there's nothing left for them to use against you?"
"My solution is to make sure the world doesn't need me anymore." His thumb brushed across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "To make sure you don't need me anymore."
"That's not your choice to make. You don't get to decide what I need. You don't get to martyr yourself for some greater good and pretend it's for my protection."
"Then what would you have me do?" For the first time, there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "Ignore my responsibilities? Pretend I'm not who I am?"
"I would have you fight like you want to come back!" The words ripped from your throat. "Fight like there's someone waiting for you after. Fight like you love me as much as I love you!"
The confession rang out between you, and the moment it left your lips, you realized you'd never said it before. Through all the stolen moments, all the secret touches, all the nights you'd spent memorizing each other's bodies â you'd never actually spoken those words aloud.
You'd both danced around it, implied it in every action, every look, every unfinished sentence, but neither of you had ever dared to make it real with words.
Until now. Until you were angry enough, desperate enough, terrified enough to let it slip from your heart straight past your defenses.
"Love?" His voice was barely a whisper.
"Of course I love you, you idiot." Your voice equally quiet. "Why else would I be standing here, begging the strongest sorcerer alive to be selfish just once?â
He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, maybe a sob, his fingers tightening on you. "Don't," he whispered, and for the first time that morning, his voice was shaking. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Don't say things that make me want toâ" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "That make me want impossible things."
"Impossible? Since when does Satoru Gojo believe in impossible?"
"Since I realized being with you means putting you at risk." His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture achingly gentle. "Since I understood that staying alive isn't the same as keeping you safe."
"I hate this." You shook your head. "I hate how calmly you can stand here and talk about sacrifice like it's inevitable. Like there's no other way."
"Would you prefer if I fell apart?" His smile turned sad. "If I raged and cried and promised things I might not be able to keep?"
"Yes," you admitted, your hands coming up to cover his where they still held your face. "Because at least then I'd know you want to stay as much as I want you to."
"Oh, my love." The endearment fell from his lips like a confession. "Wanting to stay has never been the question. The question is whether I can live with myself if I do."
"And what about whether I can live with myself if you don't?" Your voice broke. "What about whether I can forgive myself for not fighting harder to make you stay?"
"This isn't your fight."
"Like hell it isn't." You pulled back. "You think I spent months learning to clear battlefields just so you could take center stage? You think I perfected my technique to complement your infinity because I had nothing better to do?" You dug your nails into your palms, throat tight with fury. "I've been fighting alongside you since before you ever kissed me in that hallway. Before you ever decided I was worth protecting. Don't you dare tell me this isn't my fight when I've spent years making sure you had the space you needed to be great."
He was quiet for a long moment, studying you. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. "And that's exactly why I need to go. The world doesn't need more people making space for me. It needs people who'll fill that space themselves."
You recoiled like he'd slapped you, hurt burning in your chest. "Is that what you think I've been doing? Making myself smaller for you? Made space for you because I was afraid to reach higher?" You stepped closer, deadly calm now. "I made space for you because that's what you do when you love someone."
His lips twitched into a smile. "So you do understand me."
"Don't pretend those are the same thing."
He was quiet for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like goodbye. Like all the tomorrows you'd never have, all the moments you'd never share, all the promises neither of you could keep. You kissed him back with everything you had â all your fury and fear and love condensed into this one perfect, terrible moment.
His hands tangled in your hair like he was trying to memorize the feeling, yours gripping his jacket as if you could keep him here through sheer force of will. When you finally broke apart, hearts pounding, foreheads pressed together in the space between one heartbeat and the next.
"I'll hate you," you whispered against his lips. "If you don't come back, I'll hate you for the rest of my life."
He pulled back just enough to look at you, and for once, his smile held an edge of something raw, something that looked almost like pain. "No, you won't."
"I will." Your fingers tightened in his jacket. "I'll hate you for making me fall in love with someone who was always planning to leave. I'll hate you for every morning I wake up alone, for every mission briefing where someone else stands in your place, for every year I have to leave flowers on your grave."
"You'll move on. You'll find someoneâ"
"Fuck you," you cut him off, the words sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't you dare tell me how I'll feel. Don't you dare stand here and plan out my future without you in it."
"I'm just trying toâ"
"To what? Prepare me? Make it easier? There's nothing easy about loving you, Satoru Gojo. There never has been. But I chose it anyway. Every day, knowing this moment would come."
"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to say goodbye? Make it messy and painful and real?"
"I want you to stop pretending this is just another mission and show me something that tells me this is killing you like it's killing me."
The silence stretched between you like a chasm. For just a moment, beneath his careful composure, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the name â vulnerable, conflicted, maybe even afraid. But he buried it quickly, like he buried everything that might make him waver from his chosen path.
You'd always known this about him, hadn't you? Known it from that first bloody mission, from every fight where he'd put himself between the world and destruction.
Satoru Gojo was a man built for sacrifice, shaped by duty and power into something that could never truly belong to just one person. You'd fallen in love with him anyway, foolishly hoping that maybe love could be enough to make him choose differently.
But watching him now, seeing the gentle finality in every movement, you understood with crushing clarity that this was always how it would end. No amount of pleading or anger or love could change what he'd already decided.
He'd made his choice long before this morning, probably before he'd ever kissed you in that darkened hallway.
"Keep the tea warm for me," he said finally, stepping back. The words were casual, almost playful â exactly the kind of thing he'd say on any other morning. But that's what made it cruel. Even now, he was trying to soften the blow, pretending this was just another goodbye, just another mission.
You didn't say anything as he walked to the door. Didn't wish him luck or tell him to be safe. The time for those platitudes had passed.
Instead, you watched him pause in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. For a moment, you thought he might turn around, might drop the act and let you see something real. One last true moment before the end.
He didn't fully turn, but his voice carried back to you, soft and achingly sincere. "I love you. More than anything." A pause. "That's why I have to go."
The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You'd never expected them, had made peace with the silence between heartbeats where those words should have lived.
You'd imagined them differently, in all the quiet moments you'd shared â whispered against your skin in the dark, laughed into your mouth between kisses, murmured sleepily on lazy mornings. Not like this. Never like this.
How cruel, that he would finally say them now, when they felt more like a funeral rite than a confession. A parting gift from a man walking towards his own chosen end, making what should have been beautiful feel like another wound. The words you'd never dared hope for now hurt more than a lifetime of silence ever could.
Your throat burned with all the things you wanted to scream at him â about how love should mean staying, about how he was breaking your heart while trying to save it, about how dare he make those words sound like goodbye when they should have been a beginning.
"I hate you," you whispered.
He made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something more broken. "No, you don't." The certainty in his voice felt like another wound. "You love me. You said so yourself."
"I'll hate you." Your voice hardened with each word. "I'll hate you so much it'll make you wish you'd stayed."
His hand tightened on the doorframe, knuckles white with tension. For a heartbeat, you thought you'd finally cracked his composure. That he might turn around and choose you over duty, love over destiny.
He didn't.
The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded like an ending.
"But I'll wait for you anyway," you whispered to the empty room, hating yourself for the truth in those words.
The truth was, you'd always known it would end like this, known that loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who belonged to the world before he belonged to you.
But you'd been naive enough to hope. Foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, love could be enough to make him choose differently. That your selfish desire to keep him alive and whole could outweigh his selfless need to reshape the world.
The morning light cut across the empty room, highlighting the space where he'd stood moments before, and you wondered about the cruelty of it all.
Was it wrong to want to keep him here? To ask the strongest sorcerer alive to choose personal happiness over humanity's future? How many would suffer because you'd asked him to be selfish just this once?
But then again, how many had already been saved by him? How many times had he bled and broken and pieced himself back together for a world that only saw him as a shield, never as a man? Didn't he deserve the chance to live for himself, just once?
If love died today, buried six feet under noble intentions and greater goods, then maybe hate was all you had left. And wasn't there something pure in that? In hating him with the same intensity you'd loved him? In letting that hate fill the spaces he left behind, burning away the softness until all that remained was sharp edges and bitter truths?
The world needed Satoru Gojo the symbol, the untouchable god of jujutsu. But you'd needed Satoru, just Satoru, the man who brought you tea exactly how you liked it and kissed you like you were his everything. The man who was walking away, leaving you with nothing but memories and the taste of hate on your tongue.
Was it selfish to think your love was worth more than the world's need? Was it cruel to measure the weight of one heart against humanity's future?
Love and duty were never meant to be weighed against each other like this, weren't meant to be choices that tore a person in two. And perhaps that was the real tragedy â not that he was walking away, but that you'd let yourself believe he wouldn't.
You'd known how this story would end from that very first kiss. Had tasted it in every goodbye before a mission, felt it every time you waited anxiously for his return, seen it lurking behind every smile that never quite reached his eyes.
Loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who was always meant to be sacrificed. You'd just been naive enough to think sacrifice could look different, that it didn't have to end with you here, choking on love turned to ash in your mouth.
Your fingers traced your lips where those three words still lingered like a curse. The tea was getting cold on the windowsill. You should pour it out, make a fresh cup. Should start preparing for a world where Satoru Gojo was just a memory, a legend, a story of sacrifice and strength. Should learn how to breathe around the thorns growing in your chest where love used to live.
Instead, you stayed frozen, caught in the space between what was and what could have been. Because maybe he was wrong. Maybe the world didn't need someone stronger. Maybe it just needed him to come back. You certainly did.
But it was too late for maybes now. He was already gone, walking toward a destiny he'd chosen long before he'd chosen you. And you were left here, caught between hating him for leaving and loving him for exactly who he was â a man who would always choose the greater good, even when it shattered both your hearts.
But perhaps the cruelest irony was that in trying to protect humanity, he'd forgotten he was human too. That in becoming everyone's shield, he'd forgotten shields could break. That hearts could break. That yours was breaking.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, indifferent to your pain, indifferent to the way your world had just walked out the door with a smile and a promise he might not be able to keep.
You'd wait anyway. Even knowing how the story was meant to end, you'd wait. Because that's what love was â not just the beautiful parts, but the ugly parts too. The waiting. The hoping. The hating.
The choosing to love someone even when they choose something else. Even when that love turns to poison in your veins.
Even when they choose the world over you.
The tea had long gone cold when you finally moved, muscles stiff from standing still for so long. You'd sworn you wouldn't watch. Had promised yourself you wouldn't be there to see him die for his greater tomorrow.
But your hands were already reaching for your jacket.
Because that was the thing about loving Satoru Gojo â even when it turned to hate, even when it felt like acid in your throat, you couldn't look away. You'd watch him fight Sukuna. Watch him smile that infuriating smile as he chose the world one last time.
After all, you'd already promised to hate him if he didn't come back.
The least you could do was be there to keep that promise.
author's note â thank you for reading this little piece of heartbreak. i was very unsure if it will ever see the light of day but i finished it now bc i was in the mood for pain. if you enjoyed, i would greatly appreciate a reblog or comment. hope your heart isn't too broken <3
ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!
tags â @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna
@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia
@janbannan @bloopsstuff
© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.
#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo angst#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk angst#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen angst
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The end we start from
Pairing : Astarion x female!reader/Tav Around 1,8 words Takes place after the events in Cazador's palace in act 3 (non-ascended Astarion, established relationship) Angst with a happy ending (and loooots of sex) <3
Astarion doesnât feel good enough. you show him heâs everything.
TW : 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, very angry/angsty/rough sex, fingering, mature language, mentions of death and depression, mentions of blood
A/N : when i donât work, i do two things: i take care of my dog and i play BG3. i donât eat. i donât sleep. i donât socialize. i just play BG3. and I write stuff about *him*.
Astarion is many things. Quiet is not one of them. But lately, thatâs all heâs been, and youâve been worrying about him night and day. Tonight is no exception. You wake up in the middle of the night and realize two things : not only is Astarionâs side of the bed empty but the sheets and pillows are untouched, uncrumpled. His side hasnât been slept in. This isnât right. Of course, he doesnât really need to sleep but he always, always lays next to you at night, spooning you, playing with your hair and whispering sweet I love yous in your ear until you fall asleep. His absence means somethingâs off. Unable to shake off the anxiety, you get up in one swift motion, determined to find him. No chance youâre falling back asleep now anyway.
Your bare feet hit the cold marble floor and you shiver as you make your way accros the bedroom in a hurry. You think of searching outside in case he went for a hunt, but it turns out you donât have to look too far. There he is, silently leaning against the wall by the window, gazing into the pitch-black night of the Underdark. The light in the room is so dim that you couldnât even spot him from your bed. You approach him and your heart breaks a little when you notice the lingering sadness in his crimson eyes, enhanced by the faint light of the burning candles next to him.
You want to ask him if heâs ok but itâs obvious heâs not so instead, you remain silent and close the space between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and gently resting your head on his shoulder.
âWhat are you thinking about?â You ask softly after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.
Astarion averts his gaze and gives you a faint smile, nothing but a twist of lips.
âNothing,â he replies. âIâm just being selfish, as usual. Forgive me, y/n.â
You frown and stare at him incredulously. âYouâre not selfish,â you say, surprised at how intensely he means it. âWhy would you even say that?â
âI ââ He pauses, rethinks his words. This does nothing to make you less worried. âI caused you great pain,â he finally says. âI put you in danger. Repeatedly, ever since we met. You could have died a hundred times and it would have been my own, entire fault.â
You look up to him and feel a lump form in your throat. You have never seen him look like this â grief in his eyes and etched into the lines of his face.
âIâm not dead, Astarion. Iâm right here with you.â You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. He makes a sound somewhere near a sob and your arms tighten.
âBut I did put you in danger and now youâre stuck with me for eternity, in the middle of nowhere, and youâ" Again, he stops. Heâs bad at this, at talking about emotions. But he fights through it because itâs you. And nothing can be left unsaid between the two of you. Not after everything thatâs happened. âYou deserve so much better. You deserve the world, and I canât give it to you.â Youâre not sure where this conversation is going but you don't want to find out. His lower lip quiver but he goes on, words spilling out of him like blood from a wound. âI canât give it to you, and Iâll never be able to forgive myself for it. Itâs killing me all over again.â You crumble under each one of his words. His lips are trembling now and you canât stand it. You canât but you canât do him the dishonor of looking away either.
âAstarion, I chose this life.â Your hands flutter to his face, each one cupping a cold cheek, forcing him to look at you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can feel it. âI had a choice; I could stay, or I could run, and I chose you. Iâm not stuck here. Iâm home.â
Astarion heaves a faltering breath in an attempt at composure. âSometimes I think you would be happier without me. Better off.â He barely mouths the words, but you hear them all distinctively, nonetheless. âYou should go and leave me here. Walk in the sun. Be happy and live your life.â You draw your hands away from his face and he steps back, speaking louder now.
âIt wonât get any better in here,â he continues, gesturing urgently around the room. âItâll always be cold and dark, Iâll always be a blood-thirsty monster. I belong to the shadows, and Iâll never be able to make you happy, so you might as well just leave.â
His words knock the air out of your lungs and, for a moment, you cannot breathe. You feel your pulse pounding in your veins and blood thrumming under your skin as your heartbreak turns into anger. That fucking idiot, you think, looking up at him through eyes blurred with tears.
âYou donât know what makes me happy. You donât,â you shout, surprised by the vehemence in your voice. "And you certainly don't get to speak for me." Astarion looks at you in such confusion that you almost feel bad for a moment, but you continue.
âYou â you make me happy, Astarion, gods you do. I would rather live an eternity in the Underdark with you than one more day in the fucking sun.â Your heart is clenching in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling in your cheeks. âBy no means would I be better off, let alone happier, without you. I canât believe that you could even think ââ You trail off and sigh in frustration. You canât bring yourself to scream at him any longer because thatâs all heâs ever known before you, screams and shouts and abuse, and you canât do this to him. But that doesnât leave you with many options to get through to him. Astarion opens his mouth to say something, but you donât let him.
Without warning you grab his shirt to pull him close and your lips crash into his, knocking the breath out of both of you with the force that you collide with. It only fuels your rage because the moment his lips are on yours, you canât help thinking that you almost lost this once and you canât actually lose it. You wonât let that happen. So you kiss him harder. Itâs rough and desperate and sloppy. It's harsh breath and biting teeth.
He turns you around and backs you against the wall. You take it rather hard, but you welcome the sting. Anything to shut him up about not being good enough for you. He crowds in closer, presses you even harder against the wall, shoving his knee between your thighs. His cold lips connect to your throat, making you eagerly tilt your head to give him access to your thrumming pulse dancing at your neck. You have absolutely no qualms about it. If he wants it, itâs his.
But he doesnât take it. Instead, his mouth sucks and licks, making you squirm and rock your hips against him. You cling to him, grabbing his shoulders and sliding your hands down his shirt and to his back. He hoists you up like you weighed nothing and you wrap both legs around his waist. You tangle your hands in his curly silver hair and pull him forward to feel that mouth on yours again. His tongue running over your lip makes you grind faster, searching for more, more, more. You moan when his hand reaches beneath your gown and through your damp underwear.
Firm, icy fingers are stroking you into madness. You make a sound thatâs close to a whimper, but more like a groan, because damn it, you are so impatient now. You are clenching â aching to have him inside.
He is gasping at the feeling of your fluttering around him, and you must be gasping too, but youâre not sure; your head falls back and it feels like youâre breathing, but you could just as well be drowning.
You dig your nails hard into his back - you need to channel the anger into something. Maybe youâll be the one drawing blood this time. You lean forward to rest your dizzy head on his shoulder and groan in anticipation. Not wasting anymore time, he pushes his hard, large cock into you, going steadily until heâs all the way in.
âHarder. Fuck me harder.â You plead and he obeys.
He sets a pace that graces all the right spots, spurred on the increasingly desperate noises escaping your mouth. This is no effort at all for him, holding you up easily and fucking you hard with determination. But you can see it when you rest your forehead against his â the sheer weakness you feel is reflected right back at you and you know he needs this just as much as you do.
You are so close. You need to concentrate on breathing, just so you simply donât die. Your lower back thuds against the wardrobe with your oh gods and fucks singing in tandem. The vampire trails open-mouthed kisses and little bites down your neck while maintaining the almost vicious pace in and out of you. Every stroke curls and loves and breaks you into submission. You forget to be angry because your release is in his hands and your body is desperately handing itself over to him.
Your thighs start to quiver around him, the sounds of wetness and the feeling of his own explosion of pleasure deep inside you taking you so high that eventually, you shatter into him. Youâre so grateful for the strength holding you up, so you can fall apart.
Your repeatedly moan his name on your way back to consciousness, lips brushing softly against his pale skin.
Before you know what is happening, you break into a sob.
âPleaseâŠ. Please donât ever tell me to leave, ever again.â You try to articulate, your voice shaking uncontrollably.
He sinks down onto his knees, holding you in his lap and whispering, âShh,â into your ear.
âIâm so sorry,â he says, his voice is low and full of gravel. He never sounded so sweet. âI love you, always have and always will. And youâre not going anywhere.â
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion baldurs gate#astarion bg3#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion x oc#astarion fanfic#astarion imagine#astarion x female reader#astarion fluff#astarion smut#bg3 fanfiction#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction#bg3 smut#baldur's gate iii#astarion x you#larian studios#neil newbon#baldur's gate#bg3 fluff#astarion ancunin#astarion angst#bg3 tav#bg3 spoilers#astarion x y/n#astarion fic
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Until next time
Agathario x reader
The scene in the forest where Agatha delivered the baby is living in my head rent free and I just couldn't resist the urge to write an os about it. Rewrite, actually. It's my first Agatha's fic, so I'm pretty excited. Hope you guys like it <3
warning: angst, a touch of fluff
next chapter (time skip)
The babyâs soft cries echoed in the forest, as a reminder that a life has just begun, tender and innocent. Agatha was perched by a tree, only wrapped in a light and crumbled vest. Her cloak dropped somewhere a few feet away. The sweat and the pressure at her lower abdomen finally subsided, making her feel like she could breathe properly again. There was blood between her legs, staining her inner thighs, flooding and then drying out to her knees. Everything kind of hurt, her eyes were heavy, but her senses stayed alert.Â
âMove,â the Green Witch muttered in a placid order.Â
You looked into her eyes, slowly shaking your head, as you stood in front of Agatha, shielding her and the baby, âNo.â
The witch felt a wave of relief wash over her when she heard your simple, yet categorical answer. She was in no condition to fight against Rio on this, despite the fire in her eyes and the weak magic already tingling her digits.Â
Rio sighed, âwe arenât doing this. You promisedââ
âI know what I did,â you interjected, closing your hands into fists, âBut I changed my mind. I am allowed to change my mind,â you pointed out, voice thick with emotion. You couldnât bring yourself to say goodbye to a child you didnât even hold in your arms yet. âI-I canât let you take him,â turning around, your eyes focused on the babyâs tiny head peeking out of the little blanket Agatha wrapped him in. âI mean, heâs innocent. It canât be his timeâŠâ
âMy lovesââÂ
âJust let him live,â Agatha interjected, her voice both exhausted and desperate. She never felt so scared before, âPlease, donât take him from me.âÂ
When he clasped his tiny hands in her long wavy hair, her lips brushed against his head, âI love you,â she smiled, rocking him ever so gently, âI love you so much.â
Your heart melted at the sight before your eyes. Rio felt a slight indecision tugging at her chest. She never thought the first time she would hold her son would be to carry him in the afterlife. It felt cruel. It was cruel. But he was sick, he could feel his disease, hovering like a shadow around him.Â
âIâm not giving up. Not yet,â you insisted.Â
âYou talk as if I didnât wish for him to live,â Rio retorted in disbelief.Â
âOh, spare us, Rio!â Agatha snapped. âYouâre the Green Witch, itâs not like youâve got no power at your disposal. And yet youâre choosing the easy way.â
Rio couldnât believe her ears. âThe easy way you say? Are you nuts? He is my son too, Agatha!â
You frowned at their bickering. Last thing you wanted was to indulge in this fight. This moment was supposed to bring joy to your lives. A child was born, your child for fuckâs sake. Why couldnât you three be happy about it? Why couldnât you cherish the moment? He was sick, but you could still try to save him. Work together to make it possible. You, Agatha and Rio werenât common witches after all, and if there was someone able to find a loophole, it would be you.Â
âThen start acting more like a mother,â Agatha retorted, voice dropping in a whisper.Â
âItâs not my fault Iâve got responsibilities, Agatha. I never asked to be like this,â Rioâs voice wavered a bit, her heart thumping in her chest with painful insistence.Â
âMy loves, please we shouldnâtââ
The sound of Agathaâs mocking laughter prevented you from finishing off that sentence. âWhat about the responsibilities towards our son? He should come first.âÂ
âOur son is sick, and in order for him to live, many will have to die. It will cause absolute chaos.â
âSo be it. All I care about is my son.â Her icy blue eyes sparkling dangerously as she said those words with force and a bit of selfishness.Â
You considered Rioâs words; a bunch of conflicted emotions passed through you. Rio wouldnât say those things if she knew there was another way out of this. But maybe if she couldnât find it, you could, if only you were granted more time to figure it out.Â
âIf you take him, Iâll hate you forever,â she insisted rather calmly now.Â
âAgathaâŠâ
Color drained from your face at those words. You knew she didnât mean that. She couldnât. When a muffled sound slipped from Rioâs lips, a mixture between a choked sob and a scoff, you drew closer to her, your hands immediately finding her cheeks. You werenât supposed to pick sides. You were a family, and it should stay like that.Â
âShe doesnât mean it,â you said both softly and firmly, thumbs brushing against her cheekbones. She rolled her eyes and you took a firmer grip on her face, so that she would focus on your eyes, âRio, listen to me, she doesnâtââ
âI do.â Agatha deadpanned, cutting you off. Â
You hissed, âQuiet, Agatha.âÂ
Rio let out a quiet humorless chuckle, when the other witch grumbled something under her breath.Â
âWe are just scared, my love. We want this child to live, we need him to, do you understand that?âÂ
When your voice croaked slightly, her hands tangled in your hair and pulled you closer to her, âI know, baby. I know,â she cooed, getting lost in those wet lashes of yours.
You swallowed thickly, âI donât want to say goodbye.âÂ
She leaned in and brushed her lips right under your eye, her magic immediately mingling with yours. Your eyelids fluttered close and you let out a faint mewl.Â
âI can only offer time,â she said, once she pulled away, so that she could meet both yours and Agathaâs eyes.
You arched an eyebrow confusedly, âwhat does it mean?â
âHow much time?â Asked Agatha.Â
She shrugged, as if she didnât know or she couldnât really say. Her behavior only served the purpose of making you more nervous. Crossing your arms over your chest, you knew that youâd have to use this time to master your own powers. To make sure that whenever Rio intended on collecting your sonâs soul, youâd be ready to fight. Not her of course, but the process of Death itself. You were a necromancer witch, whose powers were completely opposite to Rioâs. While her job was to keep order between life and death, your powers could easily break that balance if you wanted to. Meaning that you could resurrect life forms.
âYou know Iâll still try when the time comes, donât you?â
Rio looked at you and despite your words, she smiled, âI know, love. Thought Iâd hate you if you decided to interfere, but honestly, I hope you win.âÂ
It was your turn to crack a smile in her direction. âItâs not a competition, Rio. All I want is to keep our child alive.âÂ
She hummed, without voicing her concerns out loud, not wanting to add more to yours and Agathaâs shoulders, âYou two will make a good job.â
You and Agatha exchanged a confused look, âyou sound like youâre leaving us behind,â she trailed off.Â
When Rio averted her eyes, lips pressed in a thin line, you were sure you felt your heart shatter.Â
âNo, sheâs not-â you looked at Agatha, hoping to have got it all wrong. But when you spotted tears welling up in her eyes, you realized the truth.Â
âRio, please, donât do thisââ
âI must. I canât be seen around him,â her tone was sad, yet you could still feel the love filling each word. You kept shaking your head in denial. âMight be difficult to believe but there are women above me I respond to.âÂ
âThe Fates have no power if you donât do your part,â Agatha pointed out, hoping to be right.
Rio smacked her lips in return. âItâs not that simple. Atropos, the eldest of the three, could give me a really hard time if I disobey.âÂ
You clenched your jaw at her words. The thought of handing your sonâs life in the hands of those crones made absolutely no sense to you. They shouldnât be entitled to take the life of an innocent just like that. You were a necromancer witch, meaning that you could change things. For a long time you buried that part of yourself within you, because of the things youâve been told all your life. Interfering with the natural order of the things was wrong; your power was an abomination, but at that moment, all those warnings sounded like bullshit.Â
Rio sensed your distress, her fingers brushed yours, âIâll keep him hidden for as long as I can.âÂ
Then she turned to Agatha and pointed at the baby in the silent, almost timid request to approach him. She still had to see him properly after all. Agatha nodded and moved the child so that he would face her, tucking a bit of the blanket underneath his chin to better expose his tiny face.Â
Rio brushed a strand of Agathaâs hair first, âyou did amazing, my love,â she praised her, causing a light brush on the witchâs cheeks. She couldnât quite believe she, you three created such a beautiful baby boy from scratch.Â
âHiâ she cooed, now focusing on the newborn. You leaned against the tree, the same tree Agatha was perched by, and looked from above the sweet interaction going on. Rioâs fingertips grazed over his tiny, perfect nose. âI canât promise you a life devoid of challenges and pain, but I confide in your mothers to always make sure youâre happy and loved,â she lifted her eyes to meet yours and Agathaâs. A watery smile tugged at her lips, âAnd trust me, youâre so so loved already, little one.âÂ
You wiped the corners of your eyes and so did Agatha.Â
âWe should name him Nicholas,â she said after a moment of contemplation. Â
Knowing the meaning of the name, you felt like you couldnât agree more on it, âNicholas Scratch,â you added, âcause we made him from scratch.âÂ
Rio turned towards you, while her fingers played with the babyâs tender little hands. âThatâs perfect, my love. Isnât it, Agatha?â
Agatha swallowed thickly, already mourning the loss of Rio, despite her being still there. She nodded, and then she tangled a hand in Rioâs hair, pulling her closer to her face. For a moment she only leaned against her forehead, inhaling her sweet scent of flowers. Then the Green Witch took the initiative and placed her lips on top of hers, savoring with extreme gentleness, the plumpiness of Agathaâs. You ran a hand in Agathaâs hair, fingers stroking her scalp to let her feel your presence too, while your eyes darted on Rio. When Agatha let out a choked sob in Rioâs mouth, overwhelmed by everything that had just happened in such a short time, the other hushed her softly, âitâs going to be okay.â
Neither you nor Agatha were sure about it, but you had no other choice than to believe her.Â
âTake care of your moms, Nicky,â she later added, placing one last kiss on his forehead and then on Agathaâs.Â
Once she stood up again, she focused her attention on you. In an ideal world, youâd be her enemy, because of the powers you possessed. And yet, against all the odds, you became her lover, one of the most important persons in her life.Â
âDonât be sadâŠâ
You nibbled on your inner cheek so hard you drew blood. With your arms crossed over your chest, you struggled to spill a single word because you didnât trust your voice at the moment. Your entire body was shaking on the inside. Agatha never saw you look so fragile before. It felt like a stab in her chest to witness her family fall apart like that.Â
âYouâre asking too much of me,â you kept your eyes down, focusing on the tip of your boots.Â
âNena, look at me,â Rio tried to meet your eyes, but you purposefully kept it down, shaking it stubbornly and hopelessly. She smiled, feigning hurt in her tone as she continued, âYou wouldnât let me go without a proper kiss now, would you?âÂ
Despite your best efforts, you let out a small watery chuckle at her playful teasing, âI hate that youâre doing this.â
âItâs for NickyâŠâ She said simply.Â
Agatha buried her face in the babyâs naked shoulder, finding comfort in his pure and unique scent.Â
âAnd I am sorry,â when you finally met her eyes, Rio cupped your cheeks, âso sorry you donât get to be his mother. Itâs your right to be.â
But Rioâs lips curled into a reassuring smile, despite her sadness. âDonât be. Iâll get my turn eventuallyâŠÂ and for now, Iâll be hisââ
âPlease, donât say shadow,â you muttered, and that elicited a small chuckle out of the Green Witch. If you turned around youâd see Agathaâs lips stretch into a smile too.Â
âGuardian, then.â
You hummed and licked your lips, tasting the saltiness of your own tears in your mouth.Â
âNow come here, I waited enoughââÂ
The witch pulled you closer with ease. Your body crashed into hers but it was okay because she was ready to hold you.Â
Agatha could see Rioâs face as she hugged you. She spotted a single tear slip down her eye and her stomach lurched. When you two pulled away, Rio took a few steps back, pulling the green cloak over her head. She lingered a few seconds to memorize the scene before her. You dropped on your knees and landed next to Agatha. Her head immediately lolled on your shoulder, and you turned yours to place your lips in her hair.Â
Rio waved softly, then blew a kiss to each of you, âNos vemos, mis amores.âÂ
You and Agatha nodded quietly, watching the Green Witch disappear before your eyes. Agatha let out a silent sob when she did; your arms immediately wrapped around her and the baby in a protective embrace.Â
âWe will be fine, Aggs.âÂ
When Agatha met your gaze, eyes full of hope and vulnerability, you took a mental vow to protect her and Nicky whatever the cost.Â
âYeah,â she echoed with a smile you immediately reciprocated. She closed her eyes when you leaned in to brush your lips against her still clammy forehead.Â
When the baby started crying again, you two pulled away and focused your attention on Nicky. He looked rather pale for your liking, a little warm too. You knew what he needed and so did Agatha. You placed a tender kiss on his cheek, Agathaâs lips curling into a soft smile, while you did. Then you stood, hands on your hips, eyes roaming around your surroundings like a predator looking for its prey. You didnât want to do this, but you were just a mother trying to keep your son alive.Â
When Agatha attempted to get up, you interjected, âstay here for now. Let me do the rest.â
Her expression shifted from confusion to worry, âYou shouldnât be doing this alone.â
âAgatha,â you merely rolled your eyes at that, âYou just had our baby, I think itâs not the end of the world if you sit this one out,â your voice laced with a hint of playfulness despite the things you had to do. Itâs not that you never killed before, cause you did. Not in cold blood though. You forced yourself into believing that it wouldnât be much different. Once a wise person told you, a witch must do anything in her power to survive and thereâs no shame in that. You were looking at her now, as her attention remained fixed on you.Â
âBe careful,â it was supposed to sound like an order, but the softness in her eyes betrayed her.Â
You chuckled lightly, âI always am,â you concluded, pulling the cloak up over your head.Â
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#rio vidal#wlw#agatha harkness x reader#rio vidal x reader#agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader#nicholas scratch#witches#angst and fluff#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza
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âšShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 20/09âš
Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then youâll have to check the whole post if itâs answered here, if itâs not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~
@funnybadger868 ha chiesto:wait so if mk can hear macaques past can he hear wukongs for example the circlet and the spell
Yeah he could. It's now just a matter of if he wants to use this power ever again
@cryptic-theseus ha chiesto:you're paying for my therapy btw, the bill is on the way
Blame it on the gay monkies not me. It's bc of them that my life is ruined/hj
@ayrza ha chiesto:Hey!I have an important question, where do you get your sources for the AUđđ»đđ»p? I mean, I just recently entered the LMK fandom and I see that there are parts that are not mentioned much in the series and it frustrates me because I feel like I only watch the anime but I'm missing the manga đ« I love your art and your work, it's amazing đ«°đ»âš
Hi! Well I' finishing to read Journey to the West (im at chapter 80) and if I need extra info or just check I go to the fandom wiki.
@feyqueen91 feyqueen91 ha chiesto:A question for your Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU (btw, I just saw your recent post for More Than A Successor Arc & I thought something light hearted was needed to even out the Angst), is Macaque able to summon something like what Red Son did with the Samadhi Sprite, and he teaches MK to do it too?
Wait what exactly? I haven't understood what you meant by sprite.
@og-glitch-punk ha chiesto: Honestly I expect this to be hidden but i also love your work on both comics, keep it up!! I forgot their names but dude- how would the lotus prince and our moon chef feels about wukong and Macaque being MK's parents? HELL. WHAT ABOUT THE TRIO? YELLOW TUSK, PENG AND THE LOIN (CANT REMMEBER HIS NAME EVEN IF HE IS TECHNICALLY DEAD/GONE). Hell even this chaotic snake man may even use MK to his advantage with the fact he is the child of Wukong and Macaque. So many possibilities and guesses, so many twists and turns we will never know bro
Oh he absolutely woud. Also about the others. They would probably act like protective aunt/uncles to that poor traumatised boy.
@thenerdnico ha chiesto:Oh my GODS that last bio dad's chapter broke me, your expressions are always amazing. I'm going to assume that at the end of Wukong's and Macaque's fight, Wukong realised Macaque wasn't moving and ran up to him, and ended up sobbing and screaming when he realised he was dead??? If that is the case, do you think MK listened to it long enough to hear that as well?
Oh for angst reason yes. He did.
@shadowpeachera ha chiesto:AHHHH YOUR SHADOWPEACH BIO AU IS SOO GOOD!!!! I SCREAMED AT THE LAST UPDATE!!! I have a question though. You know in the series i think season 3 epsiode 5 where Wukong goes into a deep mystic monkey meditation, yeah. Well i was wondering if Mk has ever tried that but got disrupted and lost his memories or started acting strange infront of his monkey parents. It would be hilarious i can imagine him shouting, âTUDI, TUDI!âKEEP UP THE GOOD WORK, no pressure though! HAVE A GOOD DAY!
Lmaooo ok ok I don't think I'll go witha small amnesia arc in the AU but this doeĂ sound adorable.
@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto:It will probably be quite heavy, but I suggest that after Wukong saw the monkey like that he had a huge attack of guilt and anxiety and ended up injuring his left eye with his claws
Poor baby!! Nono don't worry his eye is fine.
@raylamoongirl ha chiesto:question for macaque: what was the hardest thing to teach Mk?Lmk bio parents Q&A
Mmmm so they tried really hard to teach him shadow teleportation, but he seems to not be able to do it.
@lmkobsessedmoth ha chiesto:For the Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU What if macaque and wukong go on a date and wukong doesnât know itâs a date because heâs as dense as the rock he hatched out of
He truly would be. May the gods give him a clue or smt otherwise we wont end up nowhere here
Anonimo ha chiesto:Hey!I love your Shadowpeach bio Parent's AU But I Wonder,Does Wukong and Macaque already dance together before?
Danced??? I think so?? When they still were lovers friends I think (i think i m missing something)
Anonimo ha chiesto:I am on my knees, heart giving out, HOW IS BABY MK SO CUTE AND SHADOWPEACH SO ALLERGIC TO JUST KISSING ALREADY LIKE COME ON YOU TWO Anonimo ha chiesto:When I read the other part where swk and mac where talking about wanting MK to view them as parents at first I thought swk was proposing having another kid with Mac and I went âWOAH HEY- HOLD UP FOR A SECOND THERE U NEED TO GET UR SHT TOGETHER FIRSTâ and thank god it wasnât that I thought swk was JUMPING AND ACCELERATING THEIR PROGRESS LMAOOOSo Iâm actually glad they are taking baby steps, they need them
This slowburn is gonna be so slow-burning you all are gonna die when they actually kiss (will they kiss? Oh that's just for me to know ahah)
Anonimo ha chiesto:Since macaque is called mama by mk does that mean macaque is like a mother figure to mk in your au mama macaque is adorable and he gives off motherly in his character
Anonimo ha chiesto:Whos mom if there is considered a mom by MK or only dads? Is it Wu or Mac? My headcanons is Wukong basically the mom cuz he gives off mom and dad vibes together and Macaque just gives off dad vibes to me
He gives more motherly vibes, yes (Mamacaque and DadWukong forever)
Anonimo ha chiesto:Hi in you bio parent au for monkie kid how were monkey king and macaque as teenagers when they had a good relationship were like they a romantic couple or had secret crushes on each other and never told each other or were they just friends love this au it's amazing
Oh I think they were definitely lovers once. And that makes their past and what happened even more tragic honestly.
@ayrza ha chiesto:I don't know who is more adorable: Baby MK or Macaque and Wukong blushingPsd. I love your AU and your art đ
Both. Both is good
@diamondwolf23 ha chiesto:THOSE TWO BETTER KISSSSSSSSSSS-Iâm gonna miss Baby Mk ;-
Me too. Me too.
Anonimo ha chiesto:You could say Wukong is a...... simpian?(like simian but yknow >>)
LMAO YES
@scififeather21 ha chiesto:You can't believe how much I love your Shadowpeach AU comic series that last part made me grin so much. Mostly because my husband and I have done that exact thing when our kids were small babies and the looks and smiles were the same too. OMG it such a nice thing to see after a long day at work yesterday. :)
THAT'S THE- SWEETEST THING?????? LIKE IM SO GLAD I WAS ABLE TO MAKE IT A SIMILAR EXPERIENCE???? TO HEAR IT'S THE SAME THAT HAPPENED TO YOU IS THE SWEETEST THING EVER
@snsp6 ha chiesto:I love ur bio dads au! I wanted to ask what would happen if smth similar to the baby mk incident happened to the immortal monkeys.Like either they were de-aged to their youth or had an amnesia rules type of situation!(I am in love w the world building in this!!! And ur art is delectable!)
I don't thing the world would be ready for non-reformed Wukong#like-#not really reformed but the guy killed so many people bc of impulsiveness#until he learned that murder is not fine
Anonimo ha chiesto: This might be a stupid question, but for your bio parents, AU is MK just always in his monkey form, or is this just how he permanently looks now?
He's on his monkey form when he trains / stays at the weekends at FFM or when he friendly duels/train with Mei and Red Son.On weekdays he's constantly in his human form
@meisawkwardashecc ha chiesto:Is Wukong potentially shorter than Macaque? đđ„șAvatar
Yes
@miraclecactus ha chiesto:Can you show us what's going on in the Freenoodles house? I'm looking forward to knowing how they manage to calm MK down :( Puedes mostrarnos que es lo que sucede en la casa de Freenoodles? Estoy ansiosa de conocer como ellos manejan el como calmar a MK :(
They used Wukong and Mac advices until he feel asleep.
Anonimo ha chiesto:I like how Wukong asks Macaque how he knows MK won't hate him after this. Like my guy, you literally killed Macaque, and he still hangs around I think he knows a thing or two
True. Although let Wukong be the dumbass he is.
alizardonfire ha chiesto:I love the idea of macaque being wukongs *rock* if that makes sense? It gives so much character to him.
Aaaahh ty! Yeah I feel like he's pretty good at understanding when he s just out of his mind and bring him back to earth.
Anonimo ha chiesto:If this isn't to much spoiler will the next lmk comic be angsty
This will be answered too late but I will always warn you in advance if there s angst coming.
Anonimo ha chiesto:I love your art! Lighthearted question since your about to bring the pain- do you think Mac and Wu fight over who gets to be little spoon/big spoon or are both of them 100% happy with Mac as big spoon and Wu as little spoon every night
So as for now, they are good with Wukong being the little spoon. Both bc Wukong is the the one who constantly craves for touch amd bc Macaque feels more comfortable in a position of "control" let's say. He can decide how much closer or not to get to Wukong.
Then in the future they would be more comfortable to switch (and the bicker about who should be the big or small)
@sallyvanna ha chiesto:HAIII FIRST OF ALL I LOVE YOUR BIO PARENT AU it makes my day every time I see a new page postedI was just wondering, why was macaque kinda nervous when he summoned rumble and savage? He was like 'ah shit I didn't want that-' đ
It was because the kid would be afraid of them! Of course he wouldn't. But I guess Macaque still feels like his powers are a threat to him.
@redwrathroit ha chiesto:Hey, note this is something you can completely ignore but I wanted to know if you had a ref sheet for your monkey Bois, I'd love to take a try and drawing them plus I had made an Oc character of my own but I did it once and then art block hit me like a train and said; nah, never again. So it would really help me out if you have a ref, if not ignore this and have a nice day/night
Unfortunately I don't. I have a lot of panels where you can see them full body in various stances though.
Anonimo ha chiesto:Wukong being the little spoon is too cute, he spends years being the big spoon platonically to everyone that someone finally gave him what was needed, to be protected instead of being the protector
Yesss he iss!!!!!!
@froggyofdeath ha chiesto:Question abt Shadowpeach bio parents! Sooo, who kills the spiders, who screaming abt them, who the one who picks it up and try to scare the screaming one?đ« âšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâšïžâïžâïžâïžâïž
Mk is screaming, Wukong picks it up, Macaque kills it.
Anonimo ha chiesto:Can we see exactly when they decided to prepare the courtnapping room? Like when exactly did they know oh we need to prepare that our son has apparently followed in our footsteps
Unfortunately in this AU for now I don't plan tp draw a full spicynoodle arc as well. There will be moments for the ship as well but more like extras and side stories.
Anonimo ha chiesto:Your shadowpeach bio au reminds me of something..... I remember you saying to someone that they should Read a Son of Two Dad's. Have you read the entire thing? and the sequel?
Yes I did! Also the sequel, but i think it s in hiatus.
Anonimo ha chiesto:In you newest update for the shadowpeach parent au, that one scene of Macaque looking at Wukong as MK holds his finger kind of reminds me those flashback scenes in movies of the dead lover/wife that is looking at the main character from under a flowing blanket. I have no clue why but the image popped up in my head when I read that part of the comic lmao
I bet when they are back together they will re-create this exact image eventually
Anonimo ha chiesto:I love that Macaque is initiating contact with Wukong. Hugging him, holding his hands, cuddling with him. It makes my heart melt đ„čđ„° And Wukong is giving him opportunities to do so
He is opening the door for Mac to come closer, so that it's his choice how much he can get closer. The last thing Wukong wants is to rush things or do something that would make him more uncomfortable.
Anonimo ha chiesto:Omg! I love your art especially your shadowpeach parent bio au, it's adorable! Although I'm terrified for the next page. Anyway, my question is, why won't you let the monkey trio breathe from the trauma? đ
đ„č
Bc apparently chat asked for it
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jealousy, jealousy | choi seungcheol
fluff (+ a bit of angst) đ established relationship đ idol!cheol x gn!reader đ wc: 1.1k
. . . seungcheol getting jealous of a fictional character
âcheol, itâs just a fictional character,â you sighed, trying to explain for the tenth time since you got out of the movie theatre that, yes - the main lead was hot, but no - you wouldnât ever leave seungcheol for him.
sometimes you wondered if he was turning thirty or ten next year.Â
you didnât mean to be all heart eyes at the movies, but it wasnât your fault the main lead was good looking, not that it even mattered - seungcheol had his celebrity crushes too, but you didnât go around and whine about it. âyou know it doesnât mean anything, baby,â reaching over, you ran your fingers through his hair, like you always did whenever he was stressed or anxious, turning him into a puddle in your arms in a second.
âmhm,â your boyfriend mumbled, and gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter, not sparing you a single glance. you sighed and dropped your hand.Â
any other time youâd find this situation quite amusing - cheol jealous of a fictional character you happened to gush over, if not for the fact that you knew exactly how this would end.
with a silent treatment and an extremely pouty boyfriend.
normally you found that side of him very endearing, but dealing with a jealous coups was not an easy task, partially because your boyfriend happened to be one of the most stubborn people in the world.
now it was him and his pout against the world. Â
âyou know i love you,â you said, and turned your body away from him towards the window.Â
if he was going to act like a child, then so be it.
âiâm a fucking idiotâ seungcheol grumbled to himself, pulling his shirt over his head with a bit too much force, hitting himself in the head in the process. âfuck.âÂ
he couldnât get the image of your soft gaze and gentle voice out of his head, when you tried to cheer him up in the car after he acted like a complete asshole. he was the last person that deserved your sweet affection, and he was so mad at himself for acting like a fucking toddler instead of pulling the car over and throwing himself into your arms to beg for forgiveness.Â
âare you okay?â suddenly your voice pulled him out of his thoughts. you peeked through the door, and rubbed your eyes, already wearing his t-shirt that you always wore to sleep. the genuine concern in your eyes, and your adorably sleepy expression made seungcheol want to bang his head against the wall.Â
how could he be so stupid, and get jealous and angry at you for finding a fictional character attractive?Â
"uh, i'm fine, i just hit my head," he said quietly, not really looking at you. usually youâd immediately coo at him, and kiss the spot where he hit himself - of course you knew how much seungcheol loved your attention when he injured himself, even if it was just a scratch, but now he could only watch as you nodded and left without a word.Â
he sighed, picking up his toothbrush to finish up his bedtime routine. there was no way heâd sleep in your bed tonight, seungcheol wouldnât be able to lay next to you knowing how much he hurt you.
besides, there was so way youâd allow him to cuddle you after how he acted, and that was something he would not be able to stand.Â
looking at his reflection in the mirror for the last time, seungcheol turned all of the lights in the bathroom, and padded over to your shared bedroom to take his pillow, and a blanket from the closet.Â
heâd take the couch, itâd be less painful than sleeping in the same bed without being able to hug you.Â
âwhat are you doing?â you suddenly asked, your voice laced with sleep. you pushed yourself up to take a better look at your boyfriend, who was standing at his side of the bed with what looked like his pillow and a blanket, his expression reminiscing one of a kicked puppy. âyou have to be kidding me, choi seungcheol.âÂ
you looked so disappointed, and⊠annoyed? that was his last straw, and fuck every part of his dignity he had left - heâd beg on his knees for you forgiveness if thatâs what it took.Â
â âm sorry, okay?â he said, his voice breaking. you could bet that if you turned the lights youâd see your boyfriend all teary eyed, not that it would surprise you - seungcheol was usually quite emotional when it came to you and your fights.
âi know there was no reason for me to get jealous and act like the biggest asshole about it, you didnât deserve any of it,â he gripped the pillow tighter as if it would help. âand then i got so embarrassed of myself, i didnât have the guts to tell you how sorry i was. please forgive me baby, iâm so sorry.âÂ
âoh, cheol,â you sighed and opened your arms. without a second thought, the boy threw the pillow aside and ran into your embrace, his strong arms wrapping tightly around your waist as if he was afraid that you were about to run away.
âi'm not mad at you,â you pressed your cheek against the side of his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. âokay, maybe i was at first, but that's only because you seriously act like a child sometimes.â seungcheol groaned, as if he didnât know that already.Â
you sat like that for a moment - your arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, with his head buried in your neck where he placed gentle kisses, just like the fight never happened.Â
"did you seriously want to go to sleep on the couch?" you asked, kissing his forehead.
cheol leaned back, revealing the pouty lips, and his big doe eyes you knew so well. you could swear some day heâd be the death of you. "yeah, i wanted to. that was the plan," he admitted shyly, his thumbs running over your exposed hip. Â
"you're so dramatic, cheollie," you sighed and shook your head, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. "why didn't you want to sleep with me, though?"Â
your boyfriend groaned again, hiding in your neck like it was his safe space, pushing you back onto the bed with the force that he tackled you in. "i wouldn't be able to cuddle you," he murmured after a short while, like he was scared to admit it. Â
"again, i didn't hear you." the truth was you heard him perfectly fine, but what was better than making your usually confident boyfriend shy and blushy.Â
"i wouldnât be able to cuddle you!" he huffed, looking at you again. "happy?"Â
"very much, darling," you smiled at him. ânow stop being a drama queen, and come to bed.âÂ
seungcheol nodded like a child that was just promised an ice cream, and scrambled out of your embrace, quickly grabbing his pillow from the ground. you smiled to yourself, watching your big teddy bear of a boyfriend crawl back into bed.Â
âno more fighting, okay?â you murmured, your cheek pressed against his chest. âwe just wasted a perfectly fine afternoon on your whining, you big baby.âÂ
seungcheol knew you didnât mean to make him feel bad about what happened, he was sure you were probably used to his antics by now, but it didnât change the fact that if it was up to him heâd spend the night worshipping you in every way he could just to show you how much he loved you.Â
âiâm really sorry.âÂ
âitâs okay baby. letâs just sleep, yeah?â you said, and snuck your hand under his t-shirt, dragging you nails over his tummy. âand you know iâm yours, right? and that wonât change. ever.â
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#seventeen x you#svt reactions#seventeen#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen carat#seventeen kpop#svt fluff#seventeen smut#scoups#seventeen seungcheol#choi seungcheol#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol fanfic#svt#cheol#seventeen scenarios#seventeen reaction#scoups fluff
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Ours To Keep (2) | Joe Burrow
Angst/Fluff
Summary: Joe doesnât have the best reaction to your news, and it causes some tension between the two of you.
âąâąâąâąâąâą
You stared at Joe in confusion as he laughed.
âGood one, Y/Nâ he says, still laughing. âBut if youâre going to play a prank on me, at least come up with a better jokeâ he adds as he calms down. âJoe, Iâm not jokingâ you tell him quietly. âThe acting was seriously top tier. How have you never shown that to me before? I mean the tears looked so real-â
âJoe Iâm not kidding. Iâm not trying to play a prank on youâ you cut him off. âIâve been nauseous all week, my boobs are incredibly sore, and I missed my period over a week agoâ you explain, and he lets out a sigh. âThereâs no possible way you could be pregnant. Youâre on birth control. You have that thing in your armâ he reminds you, smiling again. âI think youâre being paranoidâ he says causing you to scoff.
âJoe, this is serious-â
âYouâre not pregnant. You sound crazyâ he says pulling back from you. âHave I been working you too hard? Maybe itâs stress. Take the rest of the day off-â
âThat doesnât explain the positive pregnancy test on my bathroom counterâ you argue starting to get aggravated. âIâve been ignoring it for weeks. Hoping maybe I was a little bit crazy. But we werenât exactly the most careful-â
âSo youâre turning this around on me?â Joe asks, his jaw clenched. âNo, Iâm not-â
âThatâs how it sounds. You were irresponsible and now youâre paying the price for it and taking it out on meâ he spits with his eyes full of anger. âLast time I checked it takes two people for something like this to happen. I didnât have sex with myselfâ you retort and he scoffs. âHow could you let this happen? Do you know how much shit this is going to cause? I donât need this right now. I have to go back to practice, and to be honest Iâm not sure I even want you here right now. Youâre dismissed for the dayâ Joe walked out of the office leaving you stunned.
You knew he might not have the best reaction but you didnât think it would be like this. Joe has never spoken to you that way, even when he was at his worst. With tears in your eyes, you gathered your bag and slowly began to make your way toward the parking lot.
You had a lot of things running through your head, but one rash thought lingered and it made you sick to your stomach. It was going to be a long night.
âąâąâą
Later that night, youâre sitting on your couch with your laptop open in your lap. You decided to throw yourself into work, and Joe had a foundation event coming up that Robin asked you to help organize. Even mad at him you couldnât let this go undone. His foundation was one of the most important things to him, and you kept telling yourself you were more so doing this for his parents. Youâre about halfway through editing the announcement picture that would eventually be posted to the foundations instagram, when you heard a knock at your door.
Furrowing your brows, and setting your laptop on the glass coffee table, you walked over to the door and looked through the peep-hole. Your heart lurched at the sight of him. You open the door, and the two of you stare at each other for about a minute.
âYouâre not here to throw me down the stairs, are you?â You ask, half joking.
Joe rolls his eyes, âcan I come in?â
You move to the side and let him into your home. He kicks his shoes off, knowing you donât like shoes on your light colored carpet. âWhatâs up? Whyâd you stop by?â You ask, a sigh escaping your lips. You know exactly why heâs here, but you wanted to see what he had to say for himself. âI went home today after practice and had some time to think. The way I treated you was wrong and just absolutely disgustingâ he says, stepping toward you, and you take a step back.
âI deserve that.â He says running his hand through his hair. âI never should have blamed you for this. This is just as much my fault, if not more. You did your part being safe, Iâm the one that decided not to use condoms. Thatâs on me. I want you to know how sorry I am about today,â Joe says. You guys never breaking eye contact.
âYouâre probably terrified, and I didnât make it any easier-â
âThatâs for sure.â You mutter. âJoe, I never meant for this to happen. And Iâve done a lot of thinking myself. Iâm going to keep this baby. Iâm not asking you for any help, Iâm not asking you for any money. Iâm fully prepared to do this by myself. Iâve started looking for another job-â
âHang on a second-â
âYou can sign your rights away. We donât even have to tell anyone that the baby is yours. Youâll have no ties to itâ you ramble, and he shakes his head. âThatâs not what I want.â He states, his voice firm. âThis is my kid, Y/N. Not just something I can pretend doesnât exist. I want to do this with you, if youâll let meâ he pleads, reaching out to grab your hand.
âYou really hurt me today, Joe.â You told him. âYou made me feel like I ruined your lifeâ
âI know, and I regret everything I said to you. I canât even put into words how sorry I am. You didnât ruin my life. Neither one of us could have anticipated this happeningâ he assures you. âI am so so sorryâ he says, pulling you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight hug. âIâm still very upset with you. Itâs going to take some time to fully forgive youâ you tell him, and he frowns, but he understands.
âI have a doctors appointment in the morning, if youâd like to comeâ you offer. âItâs just to confirm everything and get a due date and all that fun stuffâ
âIâll drive and buy you breakfastâ he says, looking down at you. âSpeaking of food, Iâm starvingâ you groan, and he lets out a laugh. âAlright, I guess Iâll feed youâ he jokes, making his way to your kitchen. âOoh, can you make that pasta that I like? Iâm pretty sure I have all of the ingredientsâ you ask with pleading eyes.
âYes, I can make you the pasta. Pick a movie, and shut that laptop. Work is over for the dayâ he orders.
âSir, yes, sirâ
âąâąâą
The Next Day
âWell congratulations, Y/N. You are indeed pregnant,â the doctor says, entering the room after your test results finally come back. âBoth the urine and blood test came back positive. Judging by the numbers on your results itâs looking like youâre around 8 or 9 weeks pregnant, thatâs around 2 months and a week.. Which would make your due date sometime in February, but we canât be sure until we do an ultrasoundâ the doctor explains.
âThe next course of action is going to be removing your nexplanon and doing an ultrasoundâ she explains.
You look over at Joe, whoâs listening intently. He hasnât said much since the two of you got here, but youâre giving him time. He wants to be involved, but he processes things a different way. You respect that.
âWe can schedule the ultrasound for about a week from now. I donât have any available ultrasound techs today. So I have a list of appointments, and you can choose what works best for you and your schedule. All of them are on Monday. Thereâs a 9am, 10am, 12pm, 3pm, and 4pm-â
âWe can do Monday at 9amâ Joe says, and you look over at him. âYou have practice on Mondayâ you remind him. He shrugs. âWe only watch film for the first two hours on Monday, you know that. Theyâll be fine without me for an hourâ he assures you. âWeâll do Monday at 9amâ you tell the doctor, knowing Joe wasnât going to let up.
âPerfect. Stop at the front desk to check out on your way back out. See you Monday. Congratulations, againâ she smiles as she leaves the room. You look back over at Joe. âYou okay?â You ask, and he nods. âIâm good. Now letâs go get you guys some breakfast,â he says, and a warm feeling spreads through your chest. You slip your hand in his and he leads you out of the room.
âąâąâą
âWhat can I get you guys to drink?â
âIâll take a coffee with extra cream and sugarâ you say, and Joe protests. âYou canât have coffee. Caffeine isnât good for the babyâ he says, and you shoot him a glare thatâs strong enough to cut. The waitress looks between the two of you hesitantly. . âI can have a little bit of caffeine,â you argue, and look back at waitress. âIgnore him. Iâll have a coffeeâ you say with a smile. Itâs Joeâs turn to roll his eyes, as he orders a water for himself.
Once the waitress walks away, you kick Joeâs shin under the table. âYouâre not going to be one of those overprotective fathers who dictates what I eat, drink, and do. Iâm an adult. I can handle myselfâ
He lets out a sigh, knowing not to argue because your hormones are high right now. âPlease do your research before acting like a control freak. I can have up to 200 grams of caffeine a day,â you tell him, and he sighs. âI just want to keep the two of you safe,â he admits, and you start to feel bad for going off on him.
âI appreciate that, Joey, but weâre good. We can handle a little bit of caffeineâ you assure him, a slight smile on your face. The waitress returns with your drinks, and the proceeds to ask if youâre ready to order your food. âCan I have two over medium eggs, with hash browns, and toast?â The waitress writes down your order, Joe looks confused, but orders his blueberry pancakes and the waitress goes to put the order in.
âYou hate eggs,â Joe comments.
âThe baby wants them.â
Joe laughs, tossing his head back. âWhat the baby wants, the baby getsâ
~~~~~~~
Ahhh our guys won yesterday!! Iâm so proud of them :)
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i love you, in every time àżâ§â 1943 - wounds and whispers
chapter summary: After an attack on the battlefield, Logan wakes up to you as his nurse in Italy during World War 2.
word count: 8.8k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: this one is short, and the ending is a bit abrupt, but i kind of wanted it to be that way- war is unpredictable. also, the ending is a tad bit different from the other endings, you'll see when you read! anyways, next chapter is when things get a little bit more interesting...
warnings/tags: mentions of injuries, fluff, angst, war, character death(s)
series masterlist - chapter 3 â chapter 5
A mere 43 years later and Logan was already in his second war since you died that last time. Part of him almost wished that he could die, maybe then heâd see you and get to hold you forever. But that just wasnât in the cards for him; not when he had this healing, not when he was already 111 years old.
Logan's mind was swimming in a fog of pain as consciousness crept back in. The last thing he remembered was the deafening blast of gunfire and the sharp, searing pain that tore through his side as he charged forward in the midst of the chaos. War was hell, and heâd been through more than enough of them to know that. But thisâthis felt different.
His eyes fluttered open, the bright lights overhead blinding him for a moment as he groaned, trying to push himself up. His muscles screamed in protest, his entire body feeling like it had been torn apart and put back together again.
âEasy there, soldier.â
The voice was soft but firm, and it froze him in place. Loganâs heart skipped a beat, recognition flooding through him even though he knew it wasnât possible. His vision focused, and then he saw you. Standing right over him, your face illuminated by the dim lights of the field hospital.
It was you.
Loganâs breath hitched, his mind spinning. Heâd seen you dieâheâd held you in his arms not long before everything faded. The memory of that night, the pain in your eyes, the blood pooling beneath youâit was burned into him. Heâd lost you again. But now here you were, alive, standing in front of him like nothing had ever happened.
His throat tightened, but he forced himself to speak. âY/N?â You probably didnât hear him, given the quiet tone of his voice.
You smiled softly, stepping closer to him, your hands working with practiced care to check his wounds. âYouâre lucky, you know,â you said, ignoring the way he looked at you, as if he'd seen a ghost. âThe shrapnel didnât hit anything vital. Youâll live.â
Logan swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving yours. He felt a pull, the same pull heâd felt every time he met you in a different life. But this time, it hurt even more. Because this was the first time heâd seen you since the last time you died, and now, here you were, again, as if the universe had decided to toy with him once more.
âY/NâŠâ he whispered again, his voice rough with emotion.
You glanced at him, your brows knitting together in confusion. âHow do you know my name?â
Logan hesitated, his heart pounding. He couldnât tell youânot yet. Not about the lives youâd lived before, not about the times heâd watched you die. He had to keep it together. You didnât remember him, and that was both a blessing and a curse.
He cleared his throat, managing a tight smile. âLucky guess,â he said, his voice strained, trying to mask the tidal wave of emotion crashing through him.
You gave him a curious look but didnât press further. âWell, lucky or not, you should be more careful out there,â you said, turning your attention back to bandaging him up. âYouâre not invincible, even if you act like it.â
Logan nearly chuckled at that. If only you knew. But instead, he gritted his teeth as you finished patching him up. The pain from the wound was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. Heâd spent so many lifetimes with you, always losing you too soon. Always feeling like there wasnât enough time.
And now, here you were again, standing so close to him, your hands gentle as you worked. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing with memories of youâof your smile, your laugh, the way youâd always found him, no matter the time or place.
But this wasnât the past. This was 1943, and you didnât know him. He had to play it cool, keep his distance, even though every instinct in him was screaming to reach out and hold you, to make sure you didnât slip away again.
âThanks,â he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.
You gave him a small nod, satisfied with your work. âWell, youâre still not cleared to leave yet, so youâre not gonna get away from me that easily.â You grabbed a small flashlight from your pocket and leaned in a little closer, shining it into his eyes to check his pupils.
Logan grunted, feeling the warmth of your proximity. It was almost unbearable how familiar you felt, even though you didnât know himâat least not in this lifetime. His eyes followed your movements, the way you focused on him like he was just another soldier you had to patch up. But to him, you were everything.
âYou know,â you started, your voice calm but a little teasing, âyou really shouldnât be throwing yourself into the line of fire like that. Kinda hard for us to patch you up if you donât have any parts left.â
Logan gave a low chuckle, though his heart wasnât in it. âIâll heal,â he muttered, more to himself than to you. His voice was rougher than usual, like the words were struggling to get past the weight of seeing you again, alive and breathing.
You raised an eyebrow at him. âHeal, huh? Well, youâre not invincible, soldier. Trust me, Iâve seen men think theyâre untouchable, and they donât last long in a place like this.â
Logan looked away, trying to focus on anything other than the sound of your voice. He didnât want to make this harder on himself than it already was. âGuess Iâll just have to be more careful, then.â
You chuckled softly, finishing your check-up and tucking the flashlight back into your pocket. âYeah, you do that.â There was a hint of amusement in your tone, but you were still clearly all business. âNow,â you looked at a clipboard in your hands, âJames, you have a different name youâd like to go by?â
Logan grunted, his gaze fixed on you. The name âJamesâ felt foreign now, like a remnant of a past he didn't quite belong to anymore. His eyes flickered to the clipboard, then back to your face. The memories of every life you'd lived flashed through his mind, each one ending the same way, with you slipping away from him.
âLogan,â he said, his voice a bit rougher than he intended.
You looked up, scribbling something down. âLogan, huh?â You nodded, writing it down. âSuits you better than James⊠I think.â
Logan gave a small grunt, a mix of acknowledgment and the emotions he was keeping buried. He couldnât tell you how much it hurt hearing you say his name, knowing you didnât remember him at all. Every time he heard your voice, it was like a punch to the gutâa reminder that no matter how many times you came back, he was always starting over, and you⊠you were always slipping away.
âGlad you approve,â Logan muttered, his eyes drifting away from you. He was trying hard not to stare, trying not to let the overwhelming rush of memories take over. You looked the same, almost exactly as you had the last timeâbefore George pulled that damn trigger.
You didnât seem to notice the tension radiating from him, too focused on the task at hand. âWell, Logan,â you said, setting the clipboard aside. âYouâll need to stay here for observation, at least for the night. Make sure your bodyâs handling the recovery properly. Weâve seen some soldiers who think theyâre fine, and thenââ You made a gesture, mimicking someone fainting, a half-smile tugging at your lips.
Loganâs eyes flicked to the floor, suppressing the mix of emotions threatening to boil over. That small smileâthe one you always had, no matter how many lives you livedâwas painfully familiar. Each time, the same softness, the same warmth. But this time, it cut deeper because he knew how this would end. Youâd be gone. Again.
âYouâre real good at this, arenât ya?â Logan said, his voice low, trying to sound casual despite the weight of everything between you two, or at least, everything he carried alone.
You shrugged, your smile widening just a little. âIâve had a lot of practice lately. War isnât exactly kind to anyone.â Your eyes softened for a moment, like you were remembering someone, but you shook it off, standing straighter. âBut, yeah. Itâs what I do.â
Loganâs jaw tightened as he fought the urge to tell you everything, to scream at the universe for pulling you into his life only to tear you away. But he couldnât. Not this time. He had to play along, had to act like this was the first time heâd ever met you.
He nodded, letting out a deep breath. âGuess weâre both used to it, then. War and all.â
You glanced at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. âYeah?â There was a pause as you sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. âYou seem⊠different from the other soldiers Iâve patched up. Seen a lot, huh?â
Logan leaned back slightly, his hand brushing against the place where the ring still rested in his pocket. He hadnât taken it out in years. âMore than youâd believe.â
There was a quiet moment between you, your gaze lingering on him as if trying to figure him out. âWell,â you said, breaking the silence, âletâs hope you donât add anything else to that list while youâre here.â
Logan couldnât help the bitter chuckle that escaped his throat. If only you knew what was on that list already. If only he could tell you how many times heâd seen you die, how many times heâd watched your life slip through his fingers. But instead, he just nodded again.
âIâll try,â he muttered, though the words felt hollow.
As you stood up, preparing to check on the next patient, you paused, glancing back at him. There was something in your eyes, something almost familiar. But then, you smiled againâkind, unaware of the history Logan held with youâand walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Logan exhaled slowly, the ache in his chest growing heavier. He had to stay strong, had to keep his distance. But deep down, he knew he was already caught, already tangled in the same painful cycle.
He slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the engagement ring heâd never had the chance to give you.
Maybe this time, he thought. Maybe this time, youâd survive.
But Logan knew better than to hope.
---
You checked in with one of the doctors when Sandra, your friend and fellow nurse, put a hand on your shoulder and turned you to face her.
âDoes he have a nice voice?â
You snorted, shaking your head at Sandra. "A nice voice? Thatâs what you want to ask?â
Sandra grinned, unbothered by your sarcasm. âWell, I saw the way you were looking at him. Thought maybe he had some mysterious, deep, soldier-thing going on.â
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a clipboard from the nearby desk. âHeâs just a patient, Sandra.â
âUh-huh, sure.â Sandra leaned in, lowering her voice. âYou didnât exactly hurry out of that room.â
You shot her a look. âI was doing my job.â
âMmhmm,â she hummed, clearly not buying it. âSo... does he?â
You sighed, unable to stop a small smile from creeping onto your face. âYeah, okay. Maybe a little. Heâs got that gruff, low thing going on.â
âI knew it!â Sandra nudged your shoulder, her expression smug. âYouâre into the mysterious types.â
âOh, come on,â you muttered, flipping through the papers on your clipboard, though none of it really held your focus. Your mind drifted back to Loganâs faceâhis eyes, the way he carried himself like the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. There was something about him, something that felt... familiar. But you brushed it off. That wasnât possible.
âIâm not into anyone,â you said quickly, snapping back to reality. âEspecially not a guy Iâve known for like five minutes.â
Sandra raised her hands in surrender, smirking. âAlright, alright. Iâll drop it.â But the teasing gleam in her eyes suggested she wasnât done with the subject.
You gave her a half-hearted glare before heading off to check on another patient. But as much as you tried to focus, your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan. The way his voice had this gravelly edge to it, how it felt like he was holding something back every time he spoke. And then there was the way he looked at youâlike he recognized you, like you were someone important.
But that couldnât be right.
---
You came to check on Logan later that night before youâd head back to your quarters for some rest. The makeshift hospital was quieter now, just a few murmurs from patients in the distance. Your shift had been long, draining, but something about checking on Logan felt... different.
You pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room. Logan was sitting up on the bed, his expression unreadable as he stared at the floor. His posture was tense, like he was carrying the weight of more than just a few injuries.
âHowâre you feeling?â you asked softly, keeping your tone professional despite the strange pull you felt toward him.
Logan looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours for a moment that seemed to stretch longer than it should. âBetter. You know, thanks to you.â
You gave a small smile, stepping closer to the bed. âIâm just doing my job.â
âYeah,â he muttered, his gaze drifting back to the floor. âStill, youâre good at it.â
There was that same heaviness in his voice, like he was holding back more than just gratitude. You couldnât put your finger on it, but something about him felt... familiar. It was strange, like you knew him somehow, but you brushed the thought away.
âYou should get some rest,â you said, checking the bandage on his side. Your fingertips lingered on the spot where the bloody wound had been earlier, but there was nothingâjust smooth skin, as if it had never been there at all. Your brow furrowed, lips parting slightly in disbelief. Youâd seen the gash when theyâd brought him in, deep and ugly, impossible to heal so quickly.
Loganâs muscles tensed under your touch, and when you glanced at him, his expression was guarded, like he was bracing for something.
"Thatâs... impossible," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "It was bad earlier. There should at least be... a scar."
Logan shrugged, trying to act indifferent, but the movement was stiff. "Guess I got lucky."
You pulled your hand back slowly, still frowning. âLucky doesnât cover it. Iâve never seen anyone heal like that.â You tilted your head, curiosity edging into your voice. âHow?â
His jaw tightened. "It happens."
âThatâs not much of an answer.â Your arms crossed over your chest, and the edge in your tone softened just a bit. âYouâve got to admit itâs... weird.â
Logan gave you a look, one that made you feel like he was sizing you up, trying to figure out how much he could say. Or maybe how little. "Weird, yeah," he muttered, voice low. "Not much I can do about it, though."
You knew a deflection when you heard one, but you let it goâfor now. You werenât sure why you felt compelled to trust him, but there was something in his eyes, in the way he spoke, that made it impossible not to.
Sitting down on the edge of his bed, you shook your head with a faint smile. "Well, however it happened, youâre lucky I didnât call the doctors in to see this miracle." You gave him a teasing look. âYouâd be their new favorite science project.â
A ghost of a grin tugged at the corner of Loganâs mouth, but it didnât quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, Iâd rather avoid that."
For a moment, the two of you sat in silence. It should have been awkward, but it wasnât. There was something strangely easy about being near him, like youâd known each other for years. You glanced at his handsârough, calloused, like theyâd seen more battles than you could imagineâand wondered just how much heâd been through.
"Why do I feel like thereâs more to you than youâre letting on?" you asked softly.
Loganâs gaze flicked to yours, something unreadable in his expression. "You ever meet someone and feel like youâve known âem before?"
His words struck a nerve, sending a chill down your spine. You swallowed, the strange familiarity between you two suddenly harder to ignore. "Yeah... I guess I have."
Logan nodded, his gaze dropping to his hands. He rubbed his thumb against the curve of his knuckleâa nervous habit, maybe. Or just old memories surfacing.
"You should get some rest," you said quietly, almost reluctantly. It felt wrong to leave, like there was more to say, even if you didnât know what.
"Iâm not good at rest," Logan admitted, voice low.
You gave a soft laugh. "No one is these days."
As you stood up, Loganâs hand moved slightlyâjust enough that the tips of his fingers brushed yours, barely a touch but enough to make your heart skip. You looked down at him, surprised by how natural it felt, like youâd been standing this close to him a thousand times before.
For a moment, it seemed like Logan might say somethingâsomething important. His hand hovered near his pocket, where a small, heavy object pressed against the fabric. But then he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as if heâd changed his mind at the last second.
"Goodnight," you whispered, your voice softer than before.
Logan gave you a short nod, but his eyes followed you as you stepped away, like he was memorizing the momentâlike it might slip away from him if he looked away for even a second.
---
The next morning, when you went to check on Logan, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, buttoning up his shirt over his white beater.
âHeyâwait.â You stepped in front of Logan, your hands instinctively finding his forearm as he finished buttoning his shirt. âYouâre not cleared to leave yet.â
Loganâs eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, something passed between youâlike the echo of a memory, distant but familiar. He gave you a half-smile, the kind that looked more like a grimace, and kept working on the last button.
âGotta go,â he muttered. âDonât do well sittinâ still.â
You crossed your arms, not budging. âDoesnât mean you get to walk out of here half-healed.â
His gaze darkened, jaw clenching as if biting back words. You could tell he didnât like being told what to do, but there was something more in his expressionâsomething haunted, buried beneath that tough exterior.
âYou think I canât handle it?â he asked, voice low, gravelly.
âItâs not about what you can handle.â Your eyes softened, a hint of frustration slipping through. âItâs about whatâs smart. Iâve patched up enough soldiers to know that leavinâ too soon isnât.â
Loganâs lips twitched, like he might argue, but then he stilled, studying you with a strange intensity. The weight of his stare made your breath hitch for a second, but you refused to back down.
âStay,â you insisted. âAt least for another day. Let the wound close properly.â
He exhaled sharply through his nose, like it was more trouble than it was worth to argue with you. âYou always this stubborn?â
A smile tugged at your lips. âYeah. Part of the charm.â
Logan huffed, a reluctant laugh buried somewhere in the sound. He leaned forward slightly, his knees brushing yours where you stood between his legs. The air felt heavierâcharged with something neither of you could quite name.
âY/N...â The way your name left his mouth was different. Familiar, almost reverent, like he was tasting the sound of it after a long time.
Your heart stuttered in your chest. âWhat?â
Loganâs hand drifted toward his pocket, hesitating just for a beat. He seemed to think better of it and instead leaned back, propping himself on his palms like he was trying to keep his distance.
âNothing.â His tone was gruff, evasive, but you knew there was more he wasnât saying.
You stayed where you were, close enough to feel the warmth of him. âYouâre not really going to leave, are you?â
Loganâs lips pressed into a thin line. âShouldnât stick around too long.â
âWhy not?â
He ran a hand through his dark hair, frustrated. âI just shouldnât.â
The words hit you harder than you expected, like they carried the weight of something unsaidâsomething important. But before you could push further, Logan shifted on the bed, brushing past you as if putting space between you would make it easier.
âLook...â His voice softened just slightly, almost apologetic. âYou shouldnât worry about me. Iâve been through worse.â
You tilted your head, watching him carefully. âMaybe. But that doesnât mean you have to go through this alone.â
Loganâs gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, the walls he kept up seemed to crack, just a little. He looked at you like you were someone he wanted to hold onto, but couldnâtâlike youâd slip through his fingers if he let himself get too close.
You leaned in just a bit, your voice barely above a whisper. âLet me help, Logan.â
The way his name fell from your lips sent a flicker of something through himâsomething dangerous, vulnerable, like it meant too much. His breath hitched, and for a second, you thought he might tell you whatever he was holding back.
But instead, he gave you a tight smile, one that didnât quite reach his eyes. âYou already have.â
It felt like the conversation was teetering on the edge of something, but neither of you were ready to tip it over just yet.
âYou win,â he muttered finally, his tone rough but resigned. âIâll stay... one more day.â
You grinned, victorious. âGood. Iâll hold you to that. Maybe Iâll even let ya accompany me to the mess tent for lunch.â You held up a finger, playful but firm. âBut only if youâre good.â
Logan gave a soft huff, the closest thing to a laugh youâd gotten out of him all day. âYou makinâ the rules now?â
âThatâs right,â you said with a smirk. âI am the nurse, after all.â
He shook his head, amused despite himself. âFair enough.â
You lingered a moment longer than necessary, and Logan didnât move away. His hand twitched near his knee, like he was thinking about reaching for you. It wasnât the kind of gesture that strangers madeâit felt too familiar, too intimate, like muscle memory.
âSee ya at lunch, then,â you murmured, trying to shake off the strange pull toward him.
Logan gave a small nod, but his gaze stayed on you as you turned toward the door. Just as you reached it, you glanced back over your shoulder.
âYou better not sneak out while Iâm gone,â you teased, though part of you wasnât sure it was really a joke.
Loganâs lips quirked at the corner, but the look in his eyes was heavy, weighed down with something you couldnât quite place. âWouldnât dream of it.â
---
By the time lunch rolled around, you were half-expecting Logan to be goneâoff on some stubborn mission to leave the hospital before you could stop him. But when you returned, there he was, sitting up on the bed and rolling the sleeves of his shirt to his forearms.
"Kept my end of the bargain," he said, giving you a crooked grin that was more shadow than smile.
âGuess that means you earned lunch.â You gestured toward the door, and Logan pushed himself off the bed with an ease that didnât match the severity of the injury he'd arrived with. You gave him a skeptical glance but decided to let it slideâfor now.
The two of you walked through the makeshift hospital in comfortable silence. You noticed how other soldiers gave him nods or muttered greetings in passing, even though none of them really knew him. Something about Logan just demanded respectâmaybe it was the way he carried himself, or the way his eyes seemed to see right through you.
At the mess tent, you grabbed two metal trays, handing one to him. âHope youâre not picky. The foodâs... not exactly five-star.â
Logan smirked. âIâve had worse.â
You sat together at a small table, away from the loudest group of soldiers. For a moment, it was almost peaceful, like the war outside didnât exist. Logan picked at his food absently, and you couldnât help but study himâhow his hands moved, how his jaw clenched like he was always bracing for bad news.
âSo... youâve done this before?â you asked, breaking the quiet. âThe soldier thing, I mean.â
Logan glanced at you, something flickering in his expression. âYeah. A few times.â
A few times. The way he said it made it sound like more than just a couple of tours.
âMustâve been rough,â you murmured, stirring your soup. âI canât imagine coming back to it over and over.â
Loganâs gaze lingered on you, and for a second, you felt pinned under the weight of it. Like he knew something you didnât. âYou get used to it,â he muttered, but the sadness in his voice told a different story.
There was a beat of silence, and then you leaned forward slightly, your curiosity getting the better of you. âYou ever... think about what youâd do, you know, if you werenât here? If the war wasnât happening?â
Logan stared at his tray, his jaw tightening like he was biting back something painful. âYeah,â he said quietly. âOnce or twice.â
The way he said it made your chest ache, and before you could stop yourself, you asked, âWhat would you do?â
Loganâs thumb brushed along the edge of his trayâa nervous habit, like he was weighing whether to tell you the truth. âThereâs someone,â he said slowly. âSomeone I thought about settlinâ down with... a long time ago.â
You blinked, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice. âWhat happened?â
Logan looked away, his expression hardening like a door slamming shut. âDidnât work out.â
It wasnât the whole storyâyou could tell that much. But you didnât push. There was something in the way he said it, like the loss was still raw, even if it had happened years ago.
âIâm sorry,â you whispered, unsure why you felt the need to say it.
Logan gave a small shrug, like it didnât matter. But you knew better. It did matter. It mattered a lot.
---
After lunch, the two of you lingered outside the tent, neither of you in a rush to return to the chaos inside. The sun was warm on your face, a rare moment of peace in a world that had been anything but peaceful lately.
âYouâre not what I expected,â you said suddenly, glancing at Logan.
He raised an eyebrow. âWhatâd you expect?â
You shrugged, smiling. âI donât know. Maybe someone more... closed off. But youâre not as much of a mystery as you think.â
Logan chuckled, but there was no humor in it. âYouâd be surprised.â
You bit your lip, studying him. âYou feel... familiar,â you admitted, the words slipping out before you could stop them. âLike weâve met before.â
Logan went still, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he might brush it off with some sarcastic comment. But instead, he looked at you with that same haunted expression youâd seen earlierâthe one that made your chest tighten.
âMaybe we have,â he said quietly, almost to himself.
The words sent a strange chill down your spine. You stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. But Logan didnât offer any more answers. He just stood there, watching you like he was waiting for something.
Before you could ask, Sandraâs voice called from the distance, snapping you both out of the moment. âY/N! Doctorâs looking for you.â
You sighed, giving Logan a small, reluctant smile. âDuty calls.â
Logan nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. âYeah. Better get to it.â
You hesitated for just a second longer, something inside you screaming that there was more to thisâmore to him. But instead, you gave him one last smile before turning away.
---
When Logan was alone again, he pulled the ring from his pocket, turning it over in his fingers. The weight of it was familiar, comforting in a way that only hurt more now.
Heâd carried it through battles, through lifetimes, always hopingâmaybe this time. But hope had a way of slipping through his fingers, just like you always did.
Logan clenched the ring in his fist, his jaw tightening. He knew better than to hope. He always did. But still... here you were.
For now, at least.
---
The next day you begrudgingly cleared Logan and showed him to where he would be staying before he got called away for another fight. It was a small quarters, shared with some of the other guys, but it was better than the hospital bed.
You should know. Sometimes youâve taken power naps on those bedsâwhen the hospital got too busy or you needed a break but couldnât leave. They were uncomfortable as hell, but after long hours, you didnât have much choice.
Logan tossed his bag on the bunk, eyeing the cramped quarters. It wasnât muchâjust a room with a few cots and a flimsy curtain dividing it from the rest of the barracksâbut he didnât seem to care.
âYouâll be all right here,â you said, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.
Logan smirked, glancing at the bed like it was just another obstacle in his way. âIâve had worse.â
You gave him a sideways glance, shaking your head slightly. âYeah, Iâm starting to see a pattern with you.â
He chuckled, low and gravelly, the sound doing strange things to your heart. His presence was so... solid. Like heâd been through hell and back, yet here he was, standing in front of you like nothing could break him.
âWell, donât get too comfortable,â you added with a smirk. âThereâs always a chance youâll end up back in the infirmary if youâre not careful.â
Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest in a way that made the muscles in his forearms flex under his rolled-up sleeves. âYou worried about me, nurse?â
âMaybe I am,â you teased, keeping it light even though part of you was serious. âI donât want to have to stitch you back up.â
He laughed again, softer this time, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than just casual. âDonât worry about me. Iâll heal.â
The words hung between you, something unspoken settling in. There was always something deeper with Logan, like the surface of his words barely scratched at the things he carried underneath.
Before you could respond, a couple of soldiers passed by, giving Logan nods of acknowledgment as they went. You noticed the way they looked at him, like he was someone whoâd earned their respect without even trying.
Logan pushed off the wall, moving past you toward the door. âThanks for the room,â he said, glancing over his shoulder. âBut I could use a drink.â
You laughed. âWell, good luck with that. This isnât exactly the Ritz.â
He stopped just outside the door, turning back to you. His eyes were sharp, but there was something softer underneath. âYou wanna join me?â
You paused, surprised by the offer. âAre you askinâ me out, Logan?â
His lips twitched into a half-smile. âJust tryinâ to be friendly.â
You let out a small huff of laughter, shaking your head as you grabbed your cap and followed him. âFine. But if youâre looking for whiskey, youâre gonna be disappointed.â
The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of your boots crunching on the gravel road filling the air. The base had quieted down a bit as the sun dipped lower, the day easing into a calm that didnât come often in a warzone.
As you walked, you couldnât help but sneak a glance at Logan from time to time, trying to figure him out. He was so... different. From anyone youâd met. From any soldier youâd treated. And yet, he felt so familiar.
You found a small spot near one of the mess tents where a few crates had been stacked up like makeshift seats. Logan grabbed a canteen from his jacket, unscrewing the cap before taking a long drink. You raised an eyebrow at him.
âThat better be water,â you joked, taking a seat beside him.
Logan handed you the canteen, smirking. âTry it and find out.â
You took a cautious sip, then immediately coughed, the burn of the alcohol catching you off guard. âGodâwhat is this?â
âSomething I picked up,â Logan said, eyes gleaming with amusement as you wiped your mouth. âFigured itâd help take the edge off.â
You gave him a playful glare, handing the canteen back. âNext time, a little warning, maybe?â
Logan shrugged, grinning. âWhereâs the fun in that?â
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. âYouâre trouble, Logan.â
He chuckled, leaning back against the crate. âBeen called worse.â
The two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a few moments, passing the canteen back and forth. The alcohol burned, but it wasnât the worst thing youâd ever tastedânot by a long shot. And it did what Logan said it wouldâit took the edge off.
You studied him for a moment, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, even when he was sitting still. âYou feel familiar,â you said quietly, your voice almost drowned out by the soft sounds of the base around you. âLike weâve met before.â
Loganâs expression shiftedâjust for a second. His jaw tightened, his gaze flickering away from you and toward the horizon. âMaybe we have,â he murmured, his voice so low you almost didnât catch it.
The words sent a strange, unexplainable shiver down your spine. You opened your mouth to ask him what he meant, but before you could, he stood up, stretching his arms over his head like he was shaking something off.
âCâmon,â he said, his voice lighter now, almost like he was forcing it. âYou ready to head back?â
You blinked, still caught in the haze of the moment. But you nodded, standing up and brushing the dirt from your uniform. âYeah, I guess so.â
The two of you walked back toward the barracks in silence, the air between you feeling heavier now. Something had shiftedâsomething you couldnât quite put your finger on. But you knew it wasnât nothing.
When you reached the barracks, Logan stopped at the door, turning to look at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.
âY/N,â he started, his voice rougher than usual, like he was wrestling with something inside him. âIf... if things ever get bad, you find me. Got it?â
You frowned, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. âLogan, whatââ
âIâm serious,â he interrupted, his hazel eyes locking onto yours. âYou find me. No matter what.â
You swallowed, nodding slowly. âOkay. I will.â
He held your gaze for a second longer, then nodded, like he was satisfied with your answer. âGood.â
Without another word, Logan turned and headed inside, leaving you standing there, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket.
What did he mean? Why did he look at you like he knew something you didnât?
You lingered there for a moment before finally heading to your own quarters. But even as you lay in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, Loganâs words echoed in your mind.
You find me. No matter what.
---
The next few days were a strange mix of routine and tension. Logan stayed around the base, mostly keeping to himself, but you found yourself crossing paths with him more often than you expected. Every time, there was that same intensity in his gaze, like he was watching you, waiting for something.
It wasnât uncomfortable, exactly. But it did make your chest tighten every time you saw him.
One evening, as the sun began to set, you found yourself wandering toward the edge of the base, needing a moment to clear your head. The war, the patients, the constant pressureâit was all getting to you. And Logan... well, Logan wasnât making things any easier.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didnât notice him until he spoke.
âNeed some company?â
You jumped slightly, turning to find Logan leaning against a tree, arms crossed over his chest, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
âJeez, you scared me,â you said, placing a hand over your heart.
âDidnât mean to sneak up on you,â he said, pushing off the tree and walking over to stand beside you. âYou looked like you could use some company.â
You sighed, glancing out at the fading sun. âYeah, I guess I could.â
Logan didnât say anything for a moment, just stood there beside you, his presence solid and reassuring. After a few beats of silence, he spoke.
âYou doinâ all right?â he asked, his voice softer than usual.
You shrugged, trying to brush it off. âItâs just... a lot sometimes, you know?â
Logan nodded, his eyes never leaving your face. âYeah. I get it.â
There was something in the way he said itâsomething that made you believe he really did get it. Like he knew exactly what it felt like to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.
âThanks for asking,â you said quietly, your gaze still focused on the horizon.
Logan was quiet for a long moment before he spoke again. âI meant what I said before,â he murmured. âYou ever need anything... you come find me.â
You turned to look at him, the seriousness in his voice catching you off guard. âLogan... why are you doinâ this? Why are you looking out for me?â
Loganâs jaw tightened, and for a second, you thought he wasnât going to answer. But then he spoke, his voice low and rough. âBecause... youâre important. More than you know.â
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Important? How? Why?
Before you could ask, Logan stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours. âJust promise me,â he said, his voice barely above a whisper. âPromise me youâll come find me if you need to.â
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. âI promise.â
Logan held your gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, satisfied. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your head spinning with questions.
Youâre important. More than you know.
What did that mean? Why did Logan feel so... familiar?
As the sun dipped below the horizon, you stood there, your mind racing. Logan had secretsâsecrets you werenât sure you were ready to uncover. But one thing was clear: whatever was between the two of you, it wasnât over. Not by a long shot.
---
On another day, you spotted Logan on the outskirts of base, sitting against a truckâs wheel with a notebook in hand.
He looked almost peaceful, maybe the most peaceful youâd ever seen him since he got here. Judging by the way he was moving his pencil, you assumed he was drawing something. You hesitated, not wanting to disturb him, but your curiosity got the better of you.
"Didnât peg you for an artist," you said, walking over and leaning against the truck beside him.
Logan didnât look up right away, just kept sketching, but there was a small smirk on his lips. "You learn a lot when youâve got time," he muttered.
You glanced at the notebook, catching glimpses of rough lines and shadows. âWhatâre you drawing?â
He paused, almost like he wasnât sure if he wanted to show you, then turned the notebook just enough for you to see. It was a sketch of the baseâa surprisingly detailed one, with the buildings and surrounding trees, even some of the soldiers milling about.
âNot bad,â you said, genuinely impressed. âDidnât know you had this in you.â
Logan shrugged, as if it was no big deal. âLike I said, a lot of time.â He looked at you then, and for a brief moment, there was something more behind his eyes, something deeper. âKeeps me grounded.â
You studied him, wondering what that really meant. Logan had always been a bit of a mystery, but there were momentsâlike nowâwhere it felt like there was so much more to him than he let on.
âYou ever thought about doing something with it? You know, beyond just sketches?â you asked, half teasing, half curious.
Logan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. âIâm not the âshow-off my artâ type. Itâs just... for me.â He glanced back at the drawing, his expression softening in a way you didnât often see. âHelps me forget.â
You nodded, feeling a tug at your chest. âForget what?â
For a moment, he didnât answer. Then he said, âEverything.â
The weight in his voice told you there was more to that statementâmore than you could guess. Youâd learned over the past few days that Logan was carrying his own kind of burden, just like you were. And yet, somehow, it felt like his was so much heavier.
âMust be a lot to forget,â you said softly.
Loganâs gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, you thought he might actually open up. But instead, he just gave a noncommittal grunt and went back to his sketching.
You watched him for a while, feeling the comfortable silence settle between you. It was odd, but Loganâs presence had become... something you looked forward to. Even with all the unspoken tension, being around him made things feel a little less overwhelming.
âI never thanked you,â you said after a while, breaking the quiet. âFor, you know... looking out for me.â
Loganâs pencil paused again, and he glanced up. âYou donât have to thank me.â
âI do,â you insisted, your eyes meeting his. âYou didnât have to. But you did.â
Logan shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable with the gratitude, but his eyes softened. âI told you. Youâre important.â
That word againâimportant. You wanted to ask him why, wanted to press him on what he really meant by that, but something in his expression told you he wasnât ready to answer. Not yet.
âJust⊠stay outta trouble,â Logan said, his voice dropping into something rougher, more serious. âIâd rather not have to pull you out of any more messes.â
You smiled, trying to keep things light. âIâll do my best. But, you know, being a nurse in the middle of a war, trouble kinda finds me.â
Logan let out a soft huff of a laugh, though there wasnât much humor in it. âYeah, I guess it does.â
The sky was growing darker now, the last traces of sunlight fading. You knew you should probably head back to the barracks soon, but something kept you rooted to the spot, standing beside him. The air between you felt charged, like there was something unspoken hanging there, waiting to be acknowledged.
âLogan,â you began, your voice quiet but steady. âWhy does it feel like youâve been watching me? Not just looking out for me, but... like youâve known me.â
Loganâs jaw tightened. His eyes shifted, as if he was deciding whether to answer that. You could feel your heart thudding in your chest, waiting for his response.
âI havenât,â he said finally, though his voice lacked conviction. âNot in the way youâre thinking.â
The way he said it made you frown. âWhat does that mean?â
Loganâs gaze held yours, intense and searching. There was a flicker of something thereâregret? Pain? Before you could figure it out, he looked away, his fingers tightening around the edges of the notebook.
âIt means⊠I donât want you to get hurt,â he said, his voice low, almost a growl. âNot again.â
Again. There it wasâa crack in the wall heâd built around himself. But before you could push him on it, Logan stood abruptly, tucking the notebook under his arm.
âYou should get some rest,â he muttered, not meeting your eyes. âLong day tomorrow.â
You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift. âLoganââ
But he was already walking away, his back stiff and his pace quick. You watched him go, your mind spinning with more questions than answers. Something was going on with Loganâsomething bigger than youâd realized.
And you had a feeling you werenât going to let it go until you found out the truth.
---
The next morning you found out that Logan had already gone on some mission to Sicily. You werenât sure why you felt sad, maybe a bit betrayed that he left without saying goodbye, but you did.
You had only known him for a few days, but somehow it seemed longer.
You couldnât just stand around and dwell on Logan leaving without a goodbye. There was work to do. You made your way to the medical tent where a doctor had been prepping for a surgery. As you stepped inside, the familiar scent of antiseptic hit your nose, grounding you in the moment.
"Y/N, glad youâre here. Weâve got a soldier with a bullet wound to the abdomen," the doctor said, his tone brisk. "I need your hands steady and sharp today."
You nodded, pushing thoughts of Logan to the back of your mind. "Got it, Doctor."
The surgery went on for hours, the steady rhythm of your breathing matching the precise movements of your hands as you assisted. It was intense, but you had no time to be distracted. Life and death were real here, and your job was to fight for life.
When the surgery was finally over, the soldier stabilized, you stepped outside the tent to catch your breath. The sky was still overcast, and the damp air felt heavy. You leaned against a wooden post, your hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline.
Logan was gone, but the memory of him lingered. You couldnât shake the feeling that heâd left something unsaid. There had been too many momentsâtoo many heavy, unspoken words between you. You tried to brush it off. It had only been a few days since youâd met him, after all. But somehow, it felt like more.
"Y/N."
You looked up to see one of the other nurses approaching. "Yeah?"
"Youâve been requested to assist with another unit. Theyâre setting up a temporary hospital closer to the front lines. Itâll be rough, but they need experienced hands."
You hesitated. The front lines meant more danger, more chaos. But the soldier in youâthe part that was here to help, to make a differenceâknew you couldnât say no.
"When do I leave?" you asked, straightening up.
"Tomorrow morning, first light."
You nodded, giving a small smile. "Thanks for the heads-up."
That night, you tried to sleep, but your mind kept wandering back to Logan. To his last words before heâd leftâ"I donât want you to get hurt. Not again." What had he meant by âagainâ? It kept echoing in your mind, nagging at you.
---
The next morning came quickly, and before you knew it, you were being packed into a truck heading closer to the front lines. The landscape passed by in a blur, and the closer you got to the new camp, the louder the sounds of war became. Shells exploded in the distance, and the ground seemed to vibrate with tension.
You spent the next few days in a haze of blood, bandages, and exhaustion. There was barely any time to think, let alone dwell on Logan. But still, every once in a while, your thoughts drifted to himâwondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was safe.
It was late one night, a few days into your new assignment, when the unexpected happened. The sirens had started to blare, lights flashing around camp. That could only mean one thing- you were under attack. And judging by the loud engines overhead, none of you were going to make it out alive.
---
Logan had gone with other soldiers to Sicily for Operation Husky. He didnât want to leave you, but part of him thought, hoped, that maybe he was your bad luck charm.
Logan stared at the coastline of Sicily, but his mind was elsewhere. The mission was straightforwardâget in, clear the path for the troops, and secure the area. But no matter how focused he tried to stay, thoughts of you kept creeping back in. He wondered if you were safe. He hoped, for your sake, that you werenât thinking about him as much as he was thinking about you.
It was torture, being away. But deep down, Logan believed it was better this way. Maybe him being around was what doomed you every time. You had died three times before, and each time, he had been there. Maybe this time, distance would keep you safe.
But that didnât stop him from wanting you. The thought of your smile, your laughter, the way you challenged himâit made him ache with something deeper than just desire. It was like an old wound that never healed, no matter how fast the rest of him did.
One of the soldiers called his name, pulling him from his thoughts. âLogan, you with us, man?â
He grunted in response, nodding toward the others. âYeah, Iâm here.â
âGood,â the guy said. âWeâre heading out.â
Logan followed, but his thoughts drifted again, back to you. He had promised himself he wouldnât get attached this time. But it was too late for that. Heâd been attached since 1854, since that first smile, that first laugh.
---
It was a few days before Logan made it back to base, one closer to the frontlines. The mission had gone as planned, but something gnawed at him, an uneasy feeling he couldnât shake.
As soon as the base came into view, Logan noticed something was off. Smoke still lingered in the air, and there were fewer people around than there shouldâve been. His gut twisted. Something had happened while he was gone.
He found one of the soldiers he recognized, grabbing him by the arm. âWhat happened here?â
The guyâs face darkened. âWe were hit. Bombing raid. Caught us off guard. There... there werenât many survivors.â
Loganâs heart dropped. âWhereâs the hospital unit?â
The soldier hesitated, eyes flicking away from Loganâs intense gaze. âIt was one of the first targets. No one made it out.â
Logan felt like the ground had dropped from under him. âWhat do you mean, no one?â His voice was a low growl, almost dangerous.
The soldier shook his head. âIâm sorry, man. They didnât stand a chance.â
Loganâs hands clenched into fists at his sides. The world around him blurred as the words sank in. You were gone. Again.
Without saying another word, Logan turned and walked toward what was left of the hospital tent. He had to see it for himself, even though part of him knew it was true. There was nothing left but rubble and debris.
His chest tightened, the weight of it crushing. You were gone. And he hadnât been there to stop it. Again.
Logan stood there for what felt like hours, staring at the wreckage. He felt that familiar, burning anger rising inside him, but it was mixed with something else this timeâgrief. Deep, raw grief. He wanted to scream, to punch something, anything, but all he could do was stand there, numb.
He reached into his pocket, fingers brushing against the small velvet box he always carried with him. The engagement ring. The one he had never used.
It had been almost ninety years since he bought it. And still, he carried it, hoping one day he might finally be able to give it to you. But every time, every life, you slipped through his fingers.
Logan swallowed hard, his throat tight. He wasnât sure how much more of this he could take. How many more times he could lose you.
âDammit,â he muttered under his breath, his voice rough with emotion.
He had thought putting distance between you two would protect you. But it didnât matter. You were gone, just like the other times.
And now, once again, he was left with nothing but memories and that damned ring.
in this chapter logan is 111 years old and reader is around 24-27 years old.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#i love you in every time
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Sins of The Flesh
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]
Wordcount: 3,000+
Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst
A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!
Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into troubleâand her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.
He was her very own Black G.I. Joeâsix feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimenâand completely hers.
That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mikeâs homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldnât keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.
He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.
It was Sunday morning, and as the preacherâs daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasnât there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.
He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.
When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.
She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.
âMorninâ, baby,â he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashesâlashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicateâfixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her.Â
âWhat time did you get in? I missed you,â she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldnât breathe without him there.
His facial hair, grown in during the week theyâd been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neckâa silent way of saying, "I missed you too."
They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. âWe gotta get up. Itâs almost eight.â
She groaned. âItâs too early.â
She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.
âCome on, we have to.â He patted her back gently.
âExcuse youâŠâ She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. âYou just got back and you're bossing me around. You havenât even kissed me yet.â
He wouldnât admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew heâd give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that muchâknew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.
âOh, you think youâre running the show now?â he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasnât the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.
âDuh. I thought you knew.â
He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.
âWho gave you command?â
His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.
âYou did.â She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this positionâhis hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and Iâll give you what you want.
He raised an eyebrow, âMe?â
âYeah,â She smirked, âYou disappeared so I had to improvise.â Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. âMaybe donât leave me hanging next time, huh?â
He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.
âWe gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.â
His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. âWhy are you talking about my father right now?â
âGet up.â His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.
She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldnât give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.
By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacherâs daughter.
Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasnât right, thinking these things in church, but she couldnât help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldnât stop herself from reminiscing about himâthe way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel.Â
The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.
By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. Sheâd waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but sheâd deal with that when the time came. He didnât say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.
âYouâve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?â
âWhat?âÂ
âYou heard me. You want it that bad?â He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddyâdominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didnât usually talk to her like this, but she couldnât deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.
She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. âI canât help it,â she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. âI need you, baby.âÂ
âI get it. I've been counting down the days too,â He promised. His voice was steady and calmâtoo calmâwhile she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously.Â
âI need more than just talk right now,â She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. Sheâd wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. âLater,â he had promised.
All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didnât seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damnedâ The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.
When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. âRelax,â he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmondâwho was always so eagerâwas telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to âdo all the workâ if she just let him inside? Â
She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.
âWhatâs this? You got an attitude now?â
She snapped before she could stop herself. âWhat do you think, Terry?â Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too longâshe had lost her damn mind.Â
âAny other time, you canât get enough of me, and now youâre acting like Iâve got the cooties. Whatâs going on with you?â
âWhat are you trying to get at?â he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mikeâs wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around.Â
What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all.Â
âFor real?â he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. âYou think Iâd do you like that?âÂ
Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasnât an issue. âSo, just because Iâm not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?â He looked at her like a wounded lion.
âI donât know, Terry,â she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. âIâm just frustrated, okay?â The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. âIâm sorry,â she added, her voice softening. âI know youâre not like that; I was just... I donât know.â
Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.
The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldnât begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything theyâd been through.
Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.
She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasnât interested in at all.
She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. âDonât be like that,â she pleaded.
She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. âIâm sorry. I was wrongâ so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldnât hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippinâ.â
He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. âYou really scared me with that.â He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. âI need you to understand that itâs not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.â
âI do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.â
âOkay,â he conceded after a minute, âJust keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. Weâre good.â Terryâs habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.
"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh waitâSir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.
âYou always know just how to push my buttons, donât you?â, he asked. âThatâs alright, though, because youâre still under my command, recruit.â He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap.Â
"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.
âNah, baby,â he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, âYou got a little too bold and need a reminder of whoâs running things.â
Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldnât go easy on her.
As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. âBut sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.â
She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadnât been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed, and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right â she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.
Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles.Â
âI get that youâre used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,â Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom.Â
"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.
Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of itâ the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady.Â
âIâm so sorry,â She whined, squirming in his lap. âI didn't mean it!â He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. âI know you didnât plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.â
He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. âFuck!â She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didnât help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time.Â
âRemember Iâm doing this because I love you.â
âYou need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?â
âStay exactly like that, donât move.â
âI know it hurts. Itâs supposed to.â
âHere, grab this pillow.â
She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out.Â
As the spanking continued, Rileyâs breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. âYouâre okay. Weâre almost done. Are you really as sorry as youâre claiming?â
âYes, Daddy,â She whimpered, already imagining how sore sheâd be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.
âRepeat after me,â Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. âSay âIâll be a good girl and listen.ââ She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. âI understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..â She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.
She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldnât recall the last thing heâd said. She had hit her breaking point. Â
She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.
âYou good?âÂ
Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okayâ physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray.Â
âIâll do better,â she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.
"Thatâs my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didnât get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.
âCome on, pretty. Iâll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.â
Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.
Part 2
#rebel ridge#terry richmond x black!oc#terry richmond x black!reader#rebel ridge fanfiction#terry Richmond x black oc#Terry Richmond x black reader
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How far he is willing to go for you (Stanford x reader)
angst at first, then fluff
During his youth as much as you want to ignore it, he is going to put his studies and knowledge before you, especially when he starts to put all of his focus on the source of anomalies in Gravity Falls.
At first, you were fine with this. After all, you thought that this obsession for finding out about the truth was going to pass.
It only grew, as much as you wanted to ignore the cold empty spot in your once shared bed.
This obsession only grows once he meets Bill. Curiosity kills the cat. You couldn't stand any of it, the overbearing loneliness was becoming too much. And even the time you can tell that he hasn't been taking care of himself both physically and mentally.
He snaps at you when you even try to get him to go outside. He'd go into rambles and mutter about how you could never understand what is upon humanity with his greatest work in progress. You are stunned, to say the least.
You know it is hopeless to argue, he will only return back into that dusty, suffocating basement.
You went out by the time Stanford was pulled into that portal looking for a new place to stay.
But something brings you back to that dreaded cabin. And you saw "Stanford" acting different...something screamed that it wasn't your Stanford.
You are quick to see through the imposter's BS as you become aggressive and confrontational. You were never afraid to pull up a gun your Ford made and gave you for "emergencies".
The imposter turns out to be Stanford's twin brother as you continue to draw out more information while you learn more about Ford's family. Stan mutters under his breath a snarky comment about how Ford's managed to marry another equally as crazed weapon-wielding manic.
The news of hearing that the very same reason Stanford has been killing himself over has now trapped him in some dimension makes you feel sick. Stanly only tells you this, you are the only person he tells about the accident, he tells you to tell absolutely no one if you want to work together to start the portal back up once more for Ford.
You can't bear to live in that house anymore, especially over time you watch Stanley turn the home you once loved with Ford with all of your heart into a tourist trap. But you keep your mouth shut about your opinion against Stan, you only come around that ugly home to just hide yourself in the cold basement to work on the portal.
You went from lonely to lonely and bitter. Despite everything you thought about Ford in the last few times you interacted with him, you still loved him. Even if it felt like he was choosing a doomsday device over you. You are sure to remind yourself you get that sucker back in your arms you'll punch some sense into him.
Throughout the painfully long 30 years that have passed, you work tirelessly on the portal, looking for the other two journals, and struggling to keep yourself on the ground from going insane over this damn portal. Its form mocks you every time you look at it, only seeing it as the reason why Ford started to go nuts.
The summer when the new Pines twins come into town gives you another reason to drive you toward the future. From Mabel's lovely personality and lighthearted jokes to Dipper's similar antics to...Fords. The kids kept you grounded, and frankly, you treated them like your own, willing to do anything to keep them safe from any harm.
...
You'd never thought you finally see the portal open up once more after nearly destroying the entire town and getting arrested but the American government.
The figure walks out of the portal covered up from head to toe looking like from another time and world.
Your racing heart slows down as Stan explains to the twins that it was the author of the journals, his brother. To you, its Stanford the love and light of your life.
Things settle down as Ford punches Stan and then rants about how dangerous it was starting the portal again, the comment strikes a nerve. After 30 years, have you been working for this attitude for 30 fucking years?
Ford looks around looking at the new company, then his eyes lay on you wide as ever. They soften as he steps forward stretching out a hand. His tone changes to the quietest volume ever. The quick mood change confuses everyone in the room but you and Ford. Mabel is quick to catch on and gasp watching the old couple tension between you and Ford.
You tighten your face as you fist your hand and go straight into his cheek. It's your turn to rant now. From how he acted before the accident to the ungratefulness of bringing him back.
He frowns rubbing his pink cheek but he lets you rant and rant until you're out of breath, those 30 years made him forget how awful he became towards you and he completely regrets every second of it. He knows that he deserves you to be mad at him but his heart aches to touch you, feel you, and love you.
Mabel's widened grin along with everyone else is stunned by your punch and long-winded ranting of serious and complex situations within your relationship. You finish off finally with your arms tightly crossed.
The tension becomes completely awkward and everyone holds their breath looking between you and guilty-looking Ford. Stan definitely feels the weight of guilt is lifted from your interaction with Ford.
...
Ever since that day, your relationship has been rough for the first few days have been rough, Ford knew how you worked, you needed time that's all.
Eventually, you hold your breath and start talking to Ford within the first week. Of course, you'd never find yourself holding a grudge against your husband, especially at your age.
It's slow and bittersweet when Ford starts to blabber on about how sorry he was both how he treated you and his bitter reaction towards Stan and you turn on the machine for his return. To which he actually says thank you to you. It ends with both of you sniffling and tightly hugging one another, with Ford's fingers digging into your arms as if afraid of losing you once again.
Needless to say ever since that day and 30 years, he will put you before anything else. Forget the research, forget the studies, forget everything just not you.
...
As the days go by you feel a feeling you haven't felt in years, love, for your husband you thought not only fell out of love but also was lost to whatever dimension claimed him by the portal.
You both felt like a pair of flirty teenagers back in high school, from kisses, hand-holding, and cuddles. If you were ever to do it in front of the twins including Stan, he would cover the twins' eyes to which he'll remind the two of you that you have an unwanted audience and to also get a room.
Stanford would also spend nearly all of his time with you, including having you have a more important role in his smaller projects and adventures!
Stanford would sketch you in whatever journal he jots his thoughts in. Mainly admiring how beautiful you along writing small poems about you. What a charmer.
Nearly every day he always makes sure to express his gratitude both for you waiting for him and starting the portal up for him. He'll have those moments where the past comes up to him and he feels guilt once more, he will hide away or just seem down even around you.
Of course, you'll be there to reassure him with both words and kisses which also brightens up his mood and face. It seems that no matter how old and how long your marriage will last he will always get all shy with kisses.
From his lips, cheeks, forehead, hands, each finger and knuckle, neck, literally anywhere. Bonus points if you wear lipstick and the kiss marks stay, he won't realize it until someone besides you points it out. He won't wipe it away though, he wears them like a medal of honor from your love.
If you were to ever renew your vows, Stanford is completely on board by the way. It's the youngest you'll ever feel. You both look dashing in your old, or new ceremony outfits. The twins of course were proud as ever no matter the timing for both their grunkle and in-law finding love even in the fit of chaos. <3
#stanford pines x reader#stanford pines#gravity falls#grunkle ford#ford pines x reader#ford pines#im going insane#i need him
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