#when i shared this idea with my partner they were like. this should just be an original book

[nameless-ken]

The Things Better Left Unsaid - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Just an idea that came into my head that I wanted to get out. Debating on if I should do a part two to this. Let me know if I should!

words: 4.2k

warnings: mostly angst and fluff, best friends pining after each other

masterlist

You and Bucky had always been a team, growing up on the same street, your bedroom windows perfectly aligned across from one another. It started with the two of you tapping on the glass with tiny fists, trying to get each other’s attention. Later, it became the flicker of flashlights and shadow puppets against your curtains during late-night talks. By the time you met Steve Rogers in first grade, your trio was inseparable. Steve, small and scrappy, needed the kind of loyalty only you and Bucky could provide. Together, the two of you made sure no one would to mess with him.

Rumors were inevitable. By the time middle school rolled around, your moms were already joking about how you and Bucky were “destined” for each other. “One day, you’ll be Mrs. Barnes,” Bucky’s mom would tease, making you roll your eyes while your cheeks burned. In high school, the rumors took a life of their own. Some kids whispered about you and Bucky being secretly together; others claimed it was Steve. Some even spun stories about the three of you.

Whenever Bucky caught wind of it, he was quick to shut it down. “Platonic soulmates exist, you know,” he’d say, grinning in a way that dared anyone to argue. But it stung more than you’d admit, hearing him say it so definitively, as if he could never think of you as anything but a friend.

Then came sophomore year, when Bucky got into his first real relationship. The rumors died almost instantly, replaced by whispers of envied girls who wished they were in her shoes. For you, it was harder. Bucky, who had always been your partner for Friday night movie marathons and Sunday bike rides into town with Steve, suddenly wasn’t there anymore. He started skipping out on your traditions, forgetting dates and moments that had once felt sacred. Even Steve’s sixteenth birthday—a day you both had planned together since middle school—slipped through Bucky’s fingers. Steve didn’t forgive him easily for that, and neither did you.

When the relationship ended, Bucky came back, knocking on your window one Friday night like no time had passed. You and Steve teased him relentlessly about his absence, but deep down, you were just relieved to have him back. It wasn’t long before everything felt normal again—or as normal as it could be when your feelings for him started to shift.

The memories were countless, small and scattered like pieces of a puzzle that made up your childhood. There was the time in seventh grade when Bucky punched Tommy Matthews for stealing your lunch, even though it got him grounded for a week. Or the summer before high school, when you dared him to climb the old oak tree in your backyard, and he fell, breaking his arm. “Don’t tell Mom,” he’d begged through gritted teeth, laughing even as you panicked.

There were lighter memories, too: sneaking into the corner store for candy, getting caught and sweet-talking your way out of trouble; late-night snowball fights that ended with you shivering in Bucky’s too-big coat; and the time you, him and Steve decided to play hooky from school, spending the whole day reading comics on the roof of Steve’s garage.

But somewhere along the way, things changed. Bucky’s smile started to make your stomach flip, and the way he casually threw an arm around your shoulders as you walked down the school hallways left you buzzing for hours. The worst were the nights when you snuck into his room like you always had, curling up beside him and talking nonsense until the early hours. Those nights, your heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid, knowing it would never be more than this.

Senior year brought it all to the surface. The shared glances that lasted a beat too long, the playful teasing that felt like something more, the way your heart raced every time he called his “doll”. You didn’t mean for it to happen, to fall so deeply for your best friend. But now, as graduation loomed closer, the thought of leaving Brooklyn—of leaving him—was unbearable.

Steve, of course, had known all along. He had a knack for seeing what neither of you could. “You’re both idiots,” he’d scream inside his head, rolling his eyes every time he caught you staring at Bucky like he hung the stars in the sky. He tried everything to get you to confess—little nudges, not-so-subtle hints—but the fear of ruining what you had kept you silent. Bucky, for all his confidence, seemed just as scared.

One evening, as the three of you sat on Bucky’s porch and as the sun set and the street lights flickered on, the weight of the future settled between you. The silence stretched, heavy with words none of you could say.

“I’m gonna miss this,” you said softly, staring at the street you’d known your whole life.

“Me too,” Bucky murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Steve stayed quiet, his head faced the ground as he kicked around a rock. 

You turned and looked at Bucky, searching his face for something—anything—that might give him away. But Bucky, as always, was impossible to read. Instead, he smiled, the same boyish grin that had made you fall for him in the first place.

“Come on,” he said, standing and offering you a hand and patting Steve’s shoulder. “Let’s make one last memory before we grow up.”

And just like that, all three of you were kids again, racing down the street under the glow of the streetlights, holding on to the fleeting magic of everything you couldn’t say.

The night air was crisp as the three of you ran, laughter echoing through the quiet neighborhood. It was like stepping back in time—back to a world where nothing mattered except the moment. Steve led the way, his small frame surprisingly quick, while Bucky stayed close by your side, glancing back to make sure you were keeping up.

“Where are we even going?” you called out as your breathed heavily, not being much of a runner. 

Steve turned around, jogging backward with a mischievous grin. “To the park, obviously! Last one there owes the other two milkshakes!”

“You’re already losing, Rogers!” Bucky shouted, picking up speed and tugging your arm. “Come on, doll, we can’t let him win.”

The nickname made your heart stumble, but you pushed the thought aside, focusing on the sound of your feet hitting the pavement. Bucky’s hand stayed wrapped around yours, warm and steady.

When you finally reached the park, Steve was sitting smugly on a swing, his hands gripping the chains as he swayed lazily. “Looks like I’m getting two milkshakes,” he said, his grin wide.

“You cheated,” Bucky accused, bending over with his hands on his knees, pretending to catch his breath. “Short legs like yours don’t move that fast without some trickery.”

“Maybe you’re just slow,” Steve shot back with a laugh.

You sat on the other swing, the cool metal chains biting into your palms. The park looked exactly as it had when you were kids—the worn-down merry-go-round, the old slide with a dent at the bottom, the same creaky swings where the three of you had spent so many afternoons.

“Remember when Steve dared you to jump off the swings while it was still moving?” you said, looking at Bucky.

He laughed, the sound sent a shiver down your spine. “Yeah, and I ended up with a sprained ankle. Mom grounded me for a week.”

“And you still tried to climb the fence two days later,” Steve added, shaking his head. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.”

“Please, I knew what I was doing,” Bucky said, sitting on the swing next to yours. “Mostly.”

You laughed, the memory warm and familiar. “What about the time we tried to build a treehouse in Steve’s backyard? We didn’t even make it past the ladder.”

Steve groaned, covering his face. “Don’t remind me. My mom was so mad when we nailed those boards to the tree. She said we’d kill ourselves before we even got it halfway up.”

“Good times,” Bucky said, leaning back on his swing, his legs stretching out in front of him. His gaze drifted upward, to the stars peeking through the leaves. “Feels like yesterday.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, following his gaze. “It does.”

The three of you fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only came with years of knowing each other.

Steve broke the silence, his voice quieter than usual. “You know, no matter where we all end up, this’ll always be home.”

Bucky nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah. It’s gonna be weird, though. Not seeing you guys every day.”

Your chest tightened at the thought. Graduation was supposed to be exciting, but all you could think about was how different everything would be. Steve, with his dreams of art school. Bucky, with his plans to join the military. And you, still unsure of where you fit into the world.

“Hey,” Bucky said suddenly, nudging your arm. “We’ll figure it out. Always do, right?”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah. Always.”

Steve stood, brushing off his jeans. “Alright, enough of this sappy stuff. Let’s go get those milkshakes. And Bucky, you’re paying. I don’t care what you say—I won.”

Bucky groaned, but he followed, muttering something about “rigged games” as the three of you headed back toward the main street. His shoulder brushed against yours as you walked, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like everything would be okay.

But deep down, you knew this night was a goodbye to the way things used to be.

Your room was chaotic. Open boxes were scattered across the floor, half-filled with a mix of clothes, books, and trinkets you couldn’t quite decide whether to keep or leave behind. The walls, once plastered with posters and photos, were bare, the room already beginning to feel like it belonged to someone else. You sat cross-legged in the middle of the mess, holding an old photo of you, Bucky, and Steve from eighth grade.

You sighed, setting the photo down on top of a box labeled Memories. The future was coming on too fast and it felt like you were leaving more behind than you were taking with you.

There was a knock on your bedroom door frame. You looked up to see Bucky standing there, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

“Your mom said you might need some help,” he said, his tone light but his eyes soft, searching yours.

You forced a smile, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face. “You’re brave to volunteer. It’s like a war zone in here.”

He stepped in, carefully maneuvering around the boxes. “Guess I better get familiar with it. I’ll be seeing places like that soon.” Bucky tried to joke and failed as your small smile disappeared. 

Bucky ignored it and moved further into your room. He picked up a stack of books, glancing at the spines. “Still got all those Jane Austen novels, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t act like you weren’t the one who borrowed Pride and Prejudice and never gave it back.”

He grinned, setting the books down. “What can I say? Darcy’s got some moves.”

The easy banter settled the tension slightly. Bucky crouched next to you, reaching for a smaller box labeled Miscellaneous. As he opened it, his hand stilled, pulling out a small, faded flashlight.

“No way,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Your breath caught. You hadn’t seen that flashlight in years. It was the same one he’d used to flash messages to you across the street when you were kids, the one that had started all your late-night talks.

“I can’t believe you kept this,” he said, turning it over in his hands, his thumb brushing against the worn surface.

You shrugged, trying to keep your voice steady. “I guess I couldn’t let it go. It’s… kind of important.”

Bucky looked up at you then, his expression unreadable but intense, like he was trying to memorize your face. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It is.”

The air between you shifted, heavy with everything unsaid. His knees brushed yours as he sat back, still holding the flashlight. You could feel the weight of his gaze, and your heart started to race, a nervous, uneven rhythm.

“Bucky…” you started, but your voice faltered when his hand rested on the floor, so close to yours you could feel the heat of his skin.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice quieter now, his eyes locked on yours.

For a moment, it felt like the world stopped. Everything in your room faded, the only thing you could focus on was him—the curve of his jaw, the way his lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something. You leaned forward just an inch, drawn to him like you always were, the space between you shrinking.

But then he pulled back, just enough to break the moment. He cleared his throat, his hand retreating as he set the flashlight gently back into the box.

“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” he said, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You nodded quickly, blinking away the haze of the moment. “Yeah. Right. Lots to pack.”

The next few minutes passed in silence, both of you busying yourselves with the boxes, avoiding each other’s eyes. But the tension lingered but neither of you brave enough to name it.

When Bucky finally left, hours later, you stood at the window and watched him walk down the sidewalk and up his porch before he disappeared into his house. For a moment, you thought about calling him back, about saying the words that had been on the tip of your tongue all night. But you didn’t. Instead, you stood there, clutching the flashlight in your hands, the weight of everything unsaid pressing heavy on your chest.

The sound of laughter echoed through Bucky’s house. The kitchen was alive with your mom and Bucky’s mom chatting as they prepared trays of finger sandwiches and fruit platters, while Steve’s mom fiddled with the coffee maker, muttering about how much caffeine a morning like this required. The living room buzzed with excitement as younger siblings and cousins darted between the adults.

You stood at the top of the stairs, peering down at the chaos with a soft smile. Bucky’s house had always felt like a second home, and today, with all your families crowded together, it felt just like how it did growing. Your mind drifts off, reminiscing about all the holidays celebrated here, missing the simplistic and nostalgic feelings of those days. 

“Hey, don’t linger. You’re the one who insisted on wearing heels,” Steve teased as he passed you, nudging your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes but followed him down the hall to Bucky’s room, where the man himself was standing in front of the mirror, frowning at his reflection.

“This stupid tassel keeps flipping the wrong way,” Bucky grumbled, swiping at it like it had personally offended him.

“Here, let me,” you said, stepping up to fix it. Your fingers brushed against his shoulder as you adjusted the tassel, and he stilled for a moment before offering a soft “Thanks.”

Steve flopped onto the edge of the bed, adjusting his cap. “Man, this thing is itchy,” he muttered, tugging at the collar of his robe.

Bucky smirked, stepping back to inspect himself in the mirror. “It’s supposed to feel uncomfortable. It’s a reminder that we’re about to enter the real world where everything is worse.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting his arm. “You’re such an optimist, Barnes.”

“Hey, I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking,” Bucky replied with a grin, though his expression softened as his eyes darted between you and Steve. “But seriously… I just wanted to say something before we head out.”

You and Steve both turned to him, the lightheartedness fading away. Bucky hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck as he searched for the right words.

“I’m glad I had you two with me through all of this,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual. “It hasn’t always been easy, but… I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Couldn’t have made it without you guys.”

Steve, ever the sentimental one, stood and clapped Bucky on the shoulder. “You’ve always had us, Buck. And you always will.”

Your throat tightened as you looked at them both, your best friends who had been by your side through every high and low. “We’re a team,” you said softly. “Always have been. Always will be.”

For a moment, the three of you just stood there, the weight of the day settling over you. It wasn’t just a graduation; it was the end of an era, the closing of a chapter that had defined so much of your lives.

Steve broke the silence first, letting out an exaggerated groan. “Alright, enough of this sappy stuff. Let’s graduate before I start crying.”

You laughed, and Bucky grinned, the tension easing as he reached over to nudge your arm. “Yeah, we can’t have Rogers blubbering in the middle of the ceremony.”

Steve shot him a mock glare. “Don’t push your luck, Barnes.”

The three of you laughed as you headed downstairs, your hand brushing against Bucky’s briefly as you walked side by side. Downstairs, the laughter and chatter of your families wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and for a moment, the future didn’t feel so uncertain.

Today, at least, you had this—your friends, your family, and a shared sense of belonging, that you grasped onto for these fleeting moments. 

The auditorium hummed with energy, a crowd full of proud families and eager graduates filling every seat. The stage at the front was adorned with banners and bouquets in your school colors, the polished wood gleaming under the bright lights.

You filed into your seat with your classmates, the rustle of gowns and the low murmur of voices filling the space as everyone settled in. Bucky was in the first row, his posture relaxed, but the subtle tapping of his foot against the floor betrayed his nerves. Two rows behind him, you gripped the program in your lap like a lifeline, the mix of excitement and bittersweet anticipation settling in your chest. Steve sat three rows behind you, his cap slightly askew as he leaned back in his chair, as he tapped his finger against his thigh, a nervous habit he’s had since forever ago. 

The opening speaker took to the podium, their voice cutting through the loud whispers. Stories were shared, advice was provided, and promises of bright futures were offered. 

It was when your gaze fell to the back of Bucky’s head that you noticed him shift slightly. He turned, just enough to catch your eye, and smiled softly. It wasn’t his usual cocky grin or a teasing smirk—it was the kind of smile that spoke volumes without a single word. A smile that was just for you.

Your breath caught, the tightness in your throat making it impossible to return the smile properly. When he winked, the simple gesture filled you with warmth, mingled with the ache of knowing everything was about to change. You managed a shaky smile before he turned back around, your heart racing throughout the rest of the ceremony. 

One by one, names were called, followed by applause and cheers as each graduate crossed the stage. 

As your name was called, you rose, your legs trembling slightly as you made your way to the stage. The moment felt surreal—hands shaking yours, the weight of the diploma in your hands, the cheers from your family echoing in your ears. As you walked back to your seat, your gaze briefly met Bucky’s again, and the pride in his eyes made your chest tighten all over again.

When the last name was called, the room erupted into applause. The principal gave the final cue as caps flew into the air, a chaotic flurry raining down.

You wove through the groups of familiar faces you’ve spent the last 18 years with, searching for the two people who meant the most to you. Spotting Bucky and Steve wasn’t hard—Bucky stood tall and Steve’s blond head was unmistakable in the crowd.

The three of you collided in a fierce group hug, arms tangling as you held on tight.

“We did it,” Steve said, his voice thick with emotion as he patted both of your backs.

Bucky’s arms tightened around you slightly, his voice soft but firm. “We did it. Together.” His arms lingered around you a fraction longer than they did around Steve, his warmth grounding you amidst the chaos.

The hug broke apart reluctantly as your families swarmed in, their pride radiating in smiles and tears. Cameras flashed, capturing every possible combination of family and friends. Your mom insisted on a dozen different poses—one with Bucky, one with Steve, one with all three of you—and the laughter that spilled out of you made your cheeks ache.

For a little while, the joy of the moment masked the bittersweet ache that had been building all day. But every now and then, your gaze would catch Bucky’s, and the unspoken weight of what came next lingered in the space between you.

For now, though, you held onto this moment—this memory—tightly, unwilling to let it slip away just yet.

Bucky’s backyard was alive with the sounds of celebration. Laughter mingled with the sizzling of the grill, and the sweet aroma of barbecue drafted through the air. Kids darted across the lawn, chasing each other with bubbles and toy airplanes. Parents clustered in small groups, sharing stories and toasting with glasses of wine and bottles of beer.

Your cap and gown hung over the back of a chair near the patio, forgotten for now as you crouched on the lawn. Bucky’s younger sister sat cross-legged beside you, her brow furrowed in concentration as she held up a tiny daisy.

“Do you think this one’s pretty?” she asked, her voice soft and earnest.

“It’s perfect,” you replied, smiling as you took the delicate flower from her and tucked it into the growing crown of wildflowers. 

As the sun started to dip lower, you glanced up, your eyes catching movement near the back door as Bucky slipped quietly through, his broad shoulders hunched slightly. 

Your gaze shifted to Steve, who had been leaning near the grill, chatting with one of Bucky’s uncles. He had noticed too, his easy smile fading as his eyes followed Bucky’s retreating figure. When he caught your eye, he gave a small nod, his expression knowing and a little sad.

You patted Bucky’s sister on the shoulder. “Keep working on this—I’ll be right back.” She nodded, already focused on the next flower.

Standing, you brushed the grass off your knees and headed inside, weaving through the crowded kitchen. You found Bucky in his room, standing by the window with his back to you. The curtains were slightly drawn, framing his silhouette as he stared out at your bedroom window.

“Hey,” you said softly, closing the door behind you.

He didn’t turn, his voice low and distant. “Just needed a minute.”

You stepped closer, careful not to startle him. “Big day,” you tentatively replied

“Yeah,” he muttered, his jaw tightening as he finally glanced at you. His blue eyes, usually so vibrant, were shadowed with worry. “Everything’s changing.”

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking into your chest. “It is.”

He turned back to the window, his hand resting on the sill. “What if it all falls apart? What if… we fall apart?”

The crack in his voice sent a pang through you. You stepped forward without thinking, crossing the space between you and wrapping your arms around him. He stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, but then his shoulders relaxed as he melted into your embrace. His arms wound tightly around your waist, keeping him grounded.

“We won’t,” you said firmly, your voice muffled against his chest. “No matter where we go or where we end up, we’ll always have this. We’ll always have each other.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at you, his face inches from yours. His expression was a mix of gratitude and something deeper. For a heartbeat, it felt like the world held its breath, the sound of the party outside fading into the background.

Then he smiled faintly, the tension in his features easing. “You’re my best friend, you know that?” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your head.

You returned his smile. “Yeah. You’re mine too.”

He grinned, but there was something in his eyes that made your heart tighten, like he wanted to say more but didn’t. You felt it too, the weight of everything you never said.

And so, instead of confessing all the feelings you had hidden for so long, you shared a quiet moment, wrapped in the understanding that things were changing. You would go your separate ways, but you’d always have this—the memories, the childhood you spent together with Steve, and the unspoken bond that would always tie you to Bucky Barnes.

And for now, this was enough.

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

Anyways this thought came to my head now I'm obligated to share

This is an au where Selina Kyle and Bruce actually get married and are in the process of like sharing a life together

Anyways this is a thing I think would be funny if it happened

Bruce is just excited to tell his friend the good news but his friend isn't exactly thrilled it's 2 am and while Gotham never sleeps Harvey dent aka two face is fucking horrified by the. Text he just received from fucking Bruce Wayne, how he got his number he doesn't fucking know the text in question

JUST GOT MARRIED!!!! 🥳🍾🍻🎉 Also totally off topic but I did not sign a prenup btw any idea of what my shares are Selina is asked for some so I gave her some but I don't actually know what they are

Two face just immediately starts blowing up Bruce's phone trying to get that man to answer is a fucking nightmare especially whenever he gets a new partner to spend time with it's like he can't see behind the pretty girl in front of him, he may be the world's greatest detective but when it comes to romantic partners he's the world's biggest idiot especially when he's in love

Finally two face starts falling Bruce and when he finally does answer he's on speaker with Selina in the room

"Bruce for the love of God tell me you had her sign a goddamn prenup, did you even discuss custody arrangements, HOW AND WHY ARE YOU GIVING HER YOUR SHARES WITHOUT KNOWING WHAT IT IS THAT YOU HAVE TELL ME THAT THIS IS A JOKE".

Bruce: I think your jealous of what I have with Selina, I trust her completely there's no need for a prenup, as for the kids they won't be a problem, and that's precisely why I texted you afterall you were one of my closest advisors for years also I thought you'd be happy for me, ya know it's not my fault yo-"

Two face: BRUCE I AM NOT JEALOUS I AM CONCERNED SELINA IS INFAMOUS FOR BEING INTERESTED IN HER OWN POCKETS AND ANYTHING SHINY, AND NEED I REMIND YOU THAT WE AREN'T FRIENDS WE HAVENT BEEN FRIENDS FOR YEARS IDK IF YOUR DRUNK OR STUPID BUT KNOWING YOU ITS PROBABLY BOTH, YOU NEED TO SEND ME ALL THE PAPERWORK REGARDING YOUR NEW MARRIAGE IMMEDIATELY SO I CAN FIX THIS GODDAMN MESS CAUSE I WILL NOT LISTEN TO YOU CRY AND WHINE WHEN THIS BLOWS UP IN YOUR STUPID ASS FACE DOES ALFRED EVEN ONOW OF YOUR STUPIDITY BECAUSE THIS IS A NEW KIND OF STUPID EVEN FOR YOU WORLDS GREATEST DETECTIVE MY ASS

Bruce merely smiles and says you wouldn't be nearly this worked up if you didn't care I knew you were still in there harv I just wanted the proof that my friend still exists I'd like for you to be my second best man at my wedding also you should come to dinner some time the kids they all miss you, and some of them have started to take an interest in the law you were at the top of your field maybe you could point them in the right direction, as for me and Selina while we did elope it has not get been made official so if you really want me to do all this paperwork you must come over for a family meal Bruce then promptly hangs up leaving Harvey absolutely flabbergasted because wtf just happened and how the fuck, wait did he just get fucking adopted by Bruce Wayne, he's a fucking supervillain and he got roped into attending a family dinner..

A moment later his phone dings and he opens it to see a big list of various foods drinks appetizers and deserts with a text at the bottom that says choose three of your favorites from each category and just dress casual or whatever's most comfortable to you it's only a small family dinner please email Alfred a list of any diet restrictions or food allergies you may have it'll be nice to have you over and don't worry Selina has agreed to play nice I know the two of you haven't always gotten along, his phone lights up again with a Gmail account to Alfred pennyworth two face can't argue so he just sighs exasperated and just RSVPs everything and goes in to see the gotham seamstress for something a bit more fancy for this get together and one extra nice suit for the wedding

[necrotic-nephilim]

Please infodump about the JayTimSteph Grotesquerie AU WIP if possible.

OF COURSE i've been thinking about it since i saw the trailer and now it's a little brainworm. (disclaimer i've not watched the first two episodes yet, this is like. solely on the vibes of the trailer. some details might change once i. watch the show depending on if i follow it or just go with the vibes the trailer gave me. which also means there will be no spoilers for the show if you care about that.)

the current idea involves Detective!Tim, Nun!Steph, and Priest!Jason. the vague idea for the plot so far is that a serial killer leaves a *very* artful display of a crime scene inside of the church that Jason and Steph operate out of. Tim is assigned as the leading detective on the case and ends up in a relationship with the both of them as he spirals in madness trying to catch the killer.

for Steph, i want to explore the idea of her father, Cluemaster, being a *very* prolific and artful serial killer who's whole gimmick was sending clues to the police until he was caught when Steph was still a child, and her and her mother were forced to go into witness protection for their own safety, which led her down the path of becoming a nun. it was a defining childhood moment for her to walk in on one of her father's crimes, so when she's the one who finds the crime scene in the church, it *immediately* sends her back to her childhood and she's caught between PTSD-fueled horror and a sick, enticing fascination. she wanted to become a journalist before going into WITSEC but that career was basically all but ruined for her. now she runs the small newspaper for the church and is desperate to write on the first "real" story she's ever had, dragging her into an intense obsession over the crime and trying to prove she can solve it.

for Jason, i want to deal with his history as Bruce. the current idea is that Bruce is Tim's police chief who adopted Jason and Dick from a young-ish age and raised them to be detectives, taking them to crime scenes as teenagers and teaching them the ins and outs of how criminals think. it leads to Dick becoming a detective, but when taking them to crime scenes led to Jason being kidnapped and brutally tortured by "Jack Napier", almost dying. Dick kills Napier to save Jason and it fractures their little family so badly that Dick switches departments to another city and Jason runs away at 17, eventually happening upon joining the clergy. he's the new, young priest in the church who's known for being very pretty but very emotionally distant even if he's nice enough. and he's *pissed* that Bruce is in his church investigating a murder and that no matter where Jason goes, he can't seem to get away from the horrors.

and for Tim, he's the young new detective in his department who is *entirely* unaware that he's been taken under Bruce's wing bc Bruce is treating him as a surrogate replacement for Dick and Jason. haven't fully decided his backstory yet, but it'll likely be similar to canon with losing his mother and father. i kind of want him to be lost and lacking a sense of direction. very gifted in noticing patterns and detective work, but it's clear he doesn't *really* want this job. and when he's assigned as the lead on a case that feels *way* too big for his experience bc Bruce is showing clear favoritism, he's forced to go to Steph for help, which leads to Jason ending up wrapped up with them too.

despite how heavy the plot *sounds*, i honestly want this fic to be like. 40% porn. like the show i want to explore a lot of fucked up sexual interests in Jason who's punishing himself for it, Steph being too interested in things for her own good and desperate for a taste of what "real life" feels like, and Tim just being incredibly repressed. like i want the line between horror and erotic to feel like a jumprope. lots of fucked up sex balanced with like. them actually trying to catch the killer. and then of course the emotional aspect of how Jason's baggage with Bruce works into all of it. also want Tim to have a mild hero worship for "the great Detective Dick Grayson" while being clueless that he's Bruce's son and Jason's brother. i sort of want it to be Steph-centric, but still have POVs from Tim and Jason just to round out their emotional arcs. i haven't fully decided everyone else who'll be in the fic but i know i want Cass to be a fellow nun and friend of Steph's, Babs to also work at the church, Helena to be Tim's favorite coworker, and possibly for Damian to be around somehow. those roles will probably get more fleshed out when i. watch the damn show tho.

anyway TLDR: religious imagery, body horror, kinky sex, and a mystery that might break everyone psychologically once they get to the bottom of it. i have some very specific scenes and dialogue planned out. probably cannibalism as a metaphor for love thrown in there too. idk i just want these three to be as fucked up as possible and unhinged about each other but fighting their repressed side with their unhinged feral side. and since it doesn't exist by god I'll create it.

[chahnniesroom]

night again

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in hindsight, visiting chan's studio right before a comeback isn't one of your best ideas. what was supposed to be a pleasant surprise leaves you spiraling into self-doubt, wondering if chan even wants to be in a relationship with you at all.

word count: 6.4k

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, misunderstandings, insecurities, reader not eating due to stress

a/n: the long awaited 'he calls you clingy' fic! title is from the english translation of 또 다시 밤 (twilight)

read it on ao3 | masterlist

You love your job. It's challenging for sure and the expectations from upper management are often unforgiving, but you’re proud of how hard you've worked and everything that you've accomplished in the past few years at your company. 

As you've gained experience, you've slowly been given more and more responsibility. You've grown out of your junior role and though you're thrilled by the pay raise and prospect of being a team lead rather than being led by one, it's also daunting.

When you and your new team are assigned an important project with tight deadlines, you're determined to prove yourself. It's implied that you're going to have to have to dedicate a significant amount of time to finish it and while you're no stranger to long hours, it means that any plans you have of seeing your boyfriend, Chan, are out the window.

The timing is not terrible, Stray Kids has a comeback scheduled in about a week so you didn't think that you would be able to spend that much time with Chan anyway, but you usually try to surprise the boys at one of the music shows with a cake and some home cooked food.

Luckily, you've already been planning for this. Although nothing had been confirmed, you had expected that this project would be awarded to your company and you've already been trying to spend more time with Chan than usual in preparation for the busy season ahead for both of you.

Still, you can't help but agree with your best friend at work after she complains how little she's going to see her partner this month. Jinjoo doesn't know who your boyfriend is, but the two of you are close enough that you’ve shared that you have one and that work takes up a lot of his time. You've gushed to her about the sweet things that Chan has done for you and you've admitted that you think he's the one.

“You should bring him dinner sometime!” she exclaims when you mention you're not sure when the next time you'll be able to see Chan will be.

“Well, he’s really busy-” you start to say.

“That’s the beauty of it. I’m sure he would appreciate if you brought him food at work, especially if he’s anything like my partner and gets so caught up with work that they forget to eat sometimes,” she insists.

“That’s true.”

“Just trust me, Y/n. I wouldn’t be telling you this if I wasn’t sure that it’d work. My partner loves when I do this. It’s literally the perfect way to take some time for each other before you’re both too busy. Even if he's super busy, his work can't be bad enough that he’s not allowed to eat, right?”

You agree somewhat reluctantly. You're still unsure about whether or not Chan would appreciate you barging in unannounced, but it is a cute idea and Jinjoo's confidence is enough to convince you.

The next day after work, you head to the company and order takeout for a late dinner for you and Chan, picking it up along the way. It reminds you of earlier in your relationship before you had gotten your current position and when Stray Kids were just gaining popularity. Both of you enjoyed having more casual date nights that provided more privacy as opposed to going out to fancy places and it makes you even more excited to see his reaction.

About a year after you started dating Chan, he insisted that you get a pass to get into JYP Entertainment without having to fill out a visitor's form and have someone pick you up. It has definitely come in handy more than a few times, although you try to limit the number of visits you make. Even though you're allowed to be there, it still feels intimidating to be in the building, like someone is going to recognize that you're not an employee and accuse you of being a sasaeng.

Luckily the late hour means that you make it to Chan's studio without having to interact with anybody except the security at the door, who had waved you through without a second thought. You had double checked with Felix earlier in the day to make sure that Chan didn't have any schedules or dinner plans, so you directly knock on his door without texting or calling him beforehand. 

“Y/n?” he asks, a bit baffled when he sees you. “Did we- Did I forget that we had plans tonight?”

“No,” you say, a little nervous for some reason. It's just Chan, you tell yourself, but it doesn't make you feel any better. “I didn't think that you had dinner yet and wanted to see you.”

“Oh, I see. Come in,” Chan responds slowly, still processing your sudden appearance. “I just have something that I need to finish up-”

“It's fine! You can work,” you assure him quickly. “I don't want to interrupt you too much, I just wanted to drop by since I don't have plans and wanted to make sure that you're eating well.”

Chan’s studio isn’t messy at all, but he still gets up to clear some space on a side table for you, before returning back to where he has Cubase opened up. You pass over his food and feel relieved when he immediately digs in, but your appetite seems to have vanished, you can only get yourself to pick at your meal.

Chan is short with his responses all evening and continues to work on his laptop, even while eating. It throws you off a bit, you thought that he would be able to get to a stopping point and at least make a bit of time for you, but you did tell him that he could. Even so, you're determined to make the most of the last time that you’re going to see them for a while. You know they’ve been super busy the past few days, or more like the past few weeks, but still you had thought he would be a little bit more engaged or at the very least seem happy to see you.

Finally, after half an hour of eating with minimal conversation, you decide to broach the subject that’s been on your mind this entire time. Chan’s finished his food and you know that you won’t be able to get yourself to eat anymore, so you shuffle everything off to the side and inch closer to Chan. 

“You know that client we’ve been trying to work with for a while?” you start tentatively.

Chan hums noncommittally, continuing to type on his computer. Not quite the reaction that you're hoping for, but you forge on anyway.

“We got awarded the job! It’s a great opportunity for the company and everyone is really excited, but-”

“Y/n,” he interrupts. “I’m sorry, that’s amazing and all, but you know that it’s not a good time for me right now. I have something I really need to work on and now that you’ve finished eating, can we please not bother with the small talk?”

“Oh,” you say, a bit caught off guard. Chan has never been the type to cut you off when you're speaking. “No, yeah, I get it. Uhm. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, just-” he sighs, sounding frustrated. “Next time can you please ask me when you want to visit in advance so this doesn’t happen again? You chose the worst timing to come by. I just need some space, from all of… this,” he says, waving a hand between the two of you.

“Sorry, I know it’s a busy time, but I just wanted to see-”

At that moment, an alarm on Chan's phone goes off, interrupting you. When he turns it off and notices the time, he swears lowly, unlocking his phone and typing out a message to somebody. You’re scared to break the silence. Less than a minute later, someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Chan calls. When Changbin and Jisung step into the room, they eye you curiously. You keep your head down and try to prevent your hands from shaking as you stand and start to haphazardly shove away all your belongings and the garbage from your dinner into bags. 

“Noona, it's good to see you!” Jisung says brightly, although his smile dims when you make eye contact and can only manage to weakly return the smile. “Sorry for interrupting you two.”

“Hi Hannie,” you reply quietly, not wanting to make conversation, but not wanting to be rude.

“It’s okay, Y/n was just leaving,” Chan says, his obvious annoyance making things even more awkward.

You say bye to the boys quietly and apologise as you shuffle past them to the door.

The handles of the bag from your dinner are digging into your hand painfully and your purse can’t close with the way that you’ve thrown everything into it. You only take a few steps before you have to stop for a moment to save a container from falling and decide to put down everything and reorganise it all.

When you crouch down, you take a second to mentally berate yourself. Everything you had worried about had come true. Instead of being a pleasant surprise, you had come across as a nuisance.

In your rush, you hadn't fully closed the studio door behind you and you're close enough that you can just barely pick up the conversation that happens inside.

“Sorry,” you hear Chan say faintly. “I don't know what's been going on, but Y/n has been… really clingy these days. She just showed up today without asking and I hate-”

You leave before he has the chance to say anything else. You look like a mess for sure, you had just grabbed all the empty containers without bothering to put them back into the plastic bag, your jacket is partially dragging on the ground, and your purse is hanging off your elbow, having slipped off your shoulder. You're pretty sure you hear an empty drink bottle clatter to the floor behind you, but you don't look back to check.

You don't have it in you to care, you just need to leave.

Even waiting for the elevator feels humiliating, so you bypass it and stumble down the stairs. You dump the garbage into a bin on the first floor, not bothering to sort it properly, and step out onto the street, bee-lining to the nearest subway station.

The ride home passes by in a blur.

It hurts, of course it hurts. 

Honestly the reason that your relationship had worked out so far was because you weren’t the kind of person that needed a lot of attention. You understood that both of you were busy and were content to just exchange messages every couple of days because you knew how important Stray Kids was to Chan. Of course you did, they were just as important to you.

If Chan wanted space, well. You were more than capable of giving it to him.

In fact, your upcoming schedule had been the reason that you had wanted to meet up in the first place, the source of your so-called clinginess. You’d never been called that before. You were hyper-independent and tended to get lost in your own mind, easily distracted by different thoughts. It had gotten to a point that most of your exes had complained at least once about you being distant or inattentive.

With Chan, you had been determined not to be the same. It had been difficult at first, to make the effort to send messages throughout the day. You had to convince yourself not to spend too long drafting replies in your head and try not to worry that you were bothering him, especially if you knew that he had schedules at the same time that you were texting.

By the time that you make it to your apartment, your pain has faded into a mixture of resignation and numbness. You don't want to talk to Chan about how you feel, it's your clinginess that he didn't like in the first place, and you don't think you'll have time or the energy for a long, emotional conversation in the next few weeks anyway. If you keep your distance for a while, it just benefits both of you, you tell yourself. You won’t be a distraction to Chan as Stray Kids has their comeback and he won’t be one to you as you take on this new project. 

As much as you want to spend the rest of your night overthinking- something you’ve done more than you’d like to admit- you know that you have a busy day at work tomorrow. Feeling a bit like a zombie, you force yourself to shuffle through your usual nighttime routine, swallowing a melatonin pill before climbing into bed.

Normally, you would send Chan a good night message. Actually, normally you would have sent him a message the second that you arrived home. It was something that he was insistent on starting from early on in your relationship, wanting to make sure that you were safe.

Tonight, you just turn off your phone, plug it into its charger, and sleep.

—

In the morning, you allow yourself to wallow in bed for 5 minutes, before you get ready for work. You’ve never been good at eating breakfast and today’s no exception. Your stomach turns uneasily at the thought of food so you only force yourself to drink some water before you leave.

Your team at work has agreed to get to work earlier than usual just to get a headstart on everything. Though you’re more of a night owl, you’re grateful to find that deviating from your usual routine means that the subway is empty enough that you can find an empty seat, a luxury that you’ve rarely experienced.

It feels eerie to walk through the streets of Seoul when the sun has just started to rise and you’re relieved when you finally make it to your office.

Unsurprisingly, you’re one of the first to arrive. You’re grateful for the time that you have to unpack your things and make a much needed coffee before the rest of your team shows up.

“How did it go last night?” Jinjoo asks you excitedly when she comes in.

“Uhm, it was okay,” you reply noncommittally. “He was definitely surprised.”

“Oh,” Jinjoo pouts at your lack of enthusiasm.

“I mean, it wasn’t bad,” you backtrack, hating to see her disappointed. “It was just so short, he was kind of… busy. But that’s what I expected anyway so that's fine I guess. Thanks for suggesting it to me though! I really appreciate it.”

“That’s good,” Jinjoo brightens. “At least you got to see him one last time.”

“Oh yeah for sure! I think that after seeing him yesterday, it’ll be easier to deal with how busy we’re going to be for the next few weeks,” you say truthfully. 

It’s not a lie, you justify. For the first time since you started dating, you’re not looking forward to the next time that you’re going to see Chan.

You know that your communication is about to reduce to an all time low for the next few weeks, and while you had originally been worried about how Chan would react, now you’re thinking that he’s just going to be relieved not to hear from you. You’ve never thought yourself to have been overly chatty with Chan during the day though, preferring in-person conversation over texting and knowing that he’s generally not available to read your messages anyway, much less send you a reply. It seemed that you were wrong. 

Luckily your team now has to use a shared box that you’re required to put your personal phones into during working hours and only have a little bit of time during lunch and dinner breaks, if you take them, to fish them out. It’s a policy that your company enforces when teams are working on confidential projects and you can’t blame them due to past litigation that they’ve been involved in after a former employee leaked sensitive information.

For once, you're glad for this excuse to not look at your phone, even if you feel a little bit naked to look at the side of your desk or reach into your pocket and not have your phone there. You’re relieved to bury yourself in your work and forget all about your personal life. Even though your project is just starting, you feel like you're already behind. 

When you're finished work for the day and take back your phone, you find yourself reluctant to check your notifications. It's only when you're waiting for the subway to arrive at your station that you finally force yourself to take a look.

No new messages or calls from Chan.

You’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you’re still disappointed.

You get back to your apartment late, you had wanted to finish a couple of things before you left the office and it had led to you being one of the last to leave. You had also stopped by the convenience store closest to your place, not having the energy to cook anything for yourself.

You pick at your dinner half-heartedly. You're used to eating alone, Chan often had his meals at odd times due to his schedules, but tonight the silence feels more oppressive. 

It haunts you, the tail end of the overheard conversation. You have no idea how Chan was going to complete the sentence, but your mind unhelpfully fills in the blanks with worse and worse suggestions.

He hates the timing of your visit.

He hates that you visited at all.

He hates that he has such a clingy girlfriend.

He hates that you are his clingy, annoying, bothersome girlfriend.

He hates you.

In moments of clarity, you can recognize that it's not true. That's not the Chan that you know and he would never say something like that about anybody, least of all you. It's just hard when a small part of you has never really been able to believe that someone as talented and amazing as Chan would want to date someone as unremarkable as you.

You find yourself falling into a new routine, waking early, working overtime, and trying not to cry yourself to sleep. You succeed most of the time, you keep yourself occupied by thinking about work and you're so physically exhausted by your long hours that you fall asleep the second that you get into bed. Luckily, your coworkers are just as overworked as you are and it’s easy to blame your declining condition on the project. Weekends don't help you rest at all, you've committed to your manager that you can work on Saturdays and Sundays are spent completing the chores that you've neglected during the week.

You still talk to Chan sometimes, either right when you wake up or on the way home after work. The conversation is stilted though, both because of the long delays between messages when you text and the limited time that you have when you call. It's enough of a difference that Chan asks you multiple times if everything is okay. Even though you try your best to assure him that you're fine, just busy, you're sure he knows that something is off, although he doesn't question you further.

Most exciting is the day that the new Stray Kids album releases. You've already heard most of the songs for this comeback, perks of dating the member that's the most involved in the writing and production of the album, but it's different now that they're available to the public too. You make sure to organise your schedule so that you're on break when the music video drops and you send a number of messages in the group chat that you have with the group cheering them on. Usually, you try to take a day off to deliver some food to them at the music shows, but you've had to settle for arranging with one of their managers to treat them to a meal.

You can tell when they get breaks because when you check your phone after work, notifications from the members are all in the same blocks of time. It's mostly them thanking you, taking pictures of the food you sent, flowers that they've been gifted, and letters from fans. They have a short promotion period this comeback, but it's packed with different interviews, performances, and fanmeets. At one point, Felix even sends you a picture of Chan sleeping slumped over on one of the waiting room couches. As much as you're relieved to see that he's able to get some rest, the picture has your stomach twisting uncomfortably.

You're proud of Chan, of all of the boys. They've worked so hard and each comeback seems to be more and more successful. Even if you're not confident in what's going to happen with you and Chan in the future, you want to celebrate with them while you still can.

—

After almost four weeks, your project is nearing completion and you've never been more grateful to have a deadline arrive.

You only have a couple more days left until your last submittal is due and after getting off work, you want nothing more than to collapse into bed even though your stomach has been growling the whole walk from the bus to your building. You had caught a significant mistake in a document right before it was going to be sent to a client and the whole afternoon had been spent trying to fix it in time. Your team had just barely managed it, but your head has been pounding for hours and your whole body is tight with stress.

You’re not quite sure how you make it to your apartment, your exhaustion has made you clumsy. You struggle a couple times to enter in the code to unlock your door and trip over a pair of shoes that are scattered in the entryway.

You manage to catch yourself before you fall, then squint back. Yes, you haven’t had the chance to tidy your apartment in a couple weeks, but you’ve never been the type to leave your shoes on the walking path.

A light is on, further in your apartment. You know for a fact it wasn’t like that when you left this morning, it would have been obvious since you've been leaving before the sun rises. Someone else is here.

You stare at the light for a few seconds in disbelief, then slowly reach to grab something, anything that you might be able to use to defend yourself. Your shaking hands close around a full sized umbrella that you keep beside your closet. 

You’ve already made enough commotion that there’s no way the intruder didn’t hear, but you try to keep your footsteps light as you creep down the hall to where your kitchen is. It’s stupid to try and confront them, but the idea of someone in your space, potentially taking your things, is enough to inspire a sudden bout of bravery.

You hold your breath as you turn the corner, launching forward to attack the second that you see someone. You recognise the figure halfway through your swing, and though it’s too late to fully stop, you manage to pull back enough that they’re able to easily catch the umbrella before it hits them.

Chan wraps his arms around you then eases the umbrella out of your hands, resting it against the wall. You sag into his embrace, adrenaline draining away, leaving you exhausted again. 

“Chan?”

You've missed this. His warmth, his comforting scent, the reassuring steadiness that he always provides. You can almost pretend that everything is fine.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he says, sounding more amused than apologetic.

“You should be,” you grumble into his shirt. “I could have seriously injured you if I didn't realise it was you!”

“I don't think that was going to be a problem.” Even though you can't see Chan, you can hear the grin in his voice.

“Hey!” You lightly smack his arm. “You take that back!”

“Fine, fine,” Chan acquiesces, holding up both his hands in surrender. “I'm very glad that I didn't have to experience the full power of your self defence.”

“Yeah yeah,” you huff. “What are you doing here anyway? Other than trying to give me a heart attack, that is.”

“I made you dinner,” Chan says shyly, turning pink.

“For what?” you ask suspiciously. It's easy to fall back into the banter that you typically exchange with Chan, but you can't help but be a bit wary these days.

“No reason. I uh, just haven't seen you in a while,” Chan says sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck where it’s now flushed red. “We had so much preparation to do and then all our schedules… Anyway, I wanted to surprise you, so I thought I could cook for us.”

Now that he's mentioned it, you can see that he's set your tiny kitchen table and that there's a couple of pots on the stove. Chan doesn’t cook often, but he’s expressed a desire to learn before and you’ve taught him how to make a few of your favourite recipes.

You stare at him for a moment, lost for words.

It's only been a few weeks, but you feel like you've forgotten how to act around Chan. Instead of a comfortable silence, it's almost awkward, neither of you knowing what to say.

“Oh,” you say finally, touched and still a little shocked that he's actually here. “That's- that's so nice, I just- is it okay if I wash up a bit quickly first?”

“No, yeah, of course. I'm sure you had a long day,” Chan says. “Go ahead, I’ll- the food should be reheated anyway so I’ll get on that. Take your time.”

You skirt around him to go to the bathroom, taking a moment to splash yourself with water. This feels like a bizarre dream and you wonder for a moment if you’re making this all up. But when you leave to go to your bedroom, Chan’s still there, puttering around in front of your kitchenette. You change your clothes slowly, mind racing as you try to puzzle together why Chan has decided to visit all of a sudden.

You eventually settle on the most logical reason that you can think of.

He’s finally decided to break up with you.

You’ve figured that this was coming for weeks by now, but somehow it still hurts. Instead of feeling resigned, it feels like you’re shattering into little pieces. You twist your work blouse into a tiny ball as you try not to cry, even though you know the fabric is going to wrinkle terribly. You finish cleaning up in a daze, already drafting what you're going to have to message your manager later. There's no way that you're going to be in any shape to work tomorrow if you’re right.

“Y/n?” Chan calls eventually. You know you're procrastinating leaving your room, but you want to put this off for as long as possible even though you know it’s just delaying the inevitable. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a heavy heart. “I’m fine. I'll just be another second.”

You can tell that Chan doesn’t quite believe you. He hovers around you when you emerge from your bedroom, knocking away your hand when you try to pull out your own chair from the table.

He's set the table, going so far as to fold little napkins under your utensils. There's even a tiny vase with your favourite flowers as a centrepiece. All this effort just hurts more.

“You look exhausted. You got home so late. Where were you?” he asks.

“I was at work,” you reply stiffly. You know that if you try and say any more, your emotions are going to spill over and you're either going to scream or cry. Maybe both.

“So late?” Chan's forehead creases with some sort of emotion. You can't quite tell if it's concern or scepticism.

“You're not the only one that has a demanding job.”

“Y/n, you know that's not what I meant-”

“Sure,” you say. “Whatever, let's just eat. Thank you for the food.”

You don't want to deal with this. You're so tired.

You have no idea why Chan’s dragging this out longer than it needs to be. Why he’s forcing you to sit through a meal with him like he’s not about to break your heart. Chan is one of the kindest people you know, he’s probably trying to make this easier for you, giving you one last nice memory, but it just feels cruel.

Chan reaches out, stopping you before you can pick up your chopsticks. He stares at the way his fingers overlap each other around your wrist.

“You’ve lost weight,” he says quietly. You look away, watching steam curl from the bowl of rice that has been set in front of you instead of returning eye contact.

“I’ve been busy.” Is all you can say in response. 

You don’t want to tell him that you’ve been basically subsisting on iced americanos and various convenience store meals in part because of your work schedule, but mostly because of your lack of appetite. Every time you thought of Chan, it made your stomach turn and well, everything reminded you of him. You hadn’t realised how much it had actually affected your physical condition until now though.

“You're not taking care of yourself,” he scolds you. You can feel yourself bristle at his comment even though you know it’s true. “I haven't been around to take care of you either. I'm sorry.”

“Chan,” you protest. It has been weeks since you last saw him in person and you’ve spent more time that you’d like to admit micro analysing your relationship, but you still can’t make sense of his behaviour, especially how he keeps switching between criticism and tenderness.

“What?” he asks in genuine confusion.

“Why are you here?”

“I missed you,” Chan says, sounding hurt and confused. “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I just- I don’t understand what you want from me!” You run your hands through your hair in frustration. “One day you don’t want me around, we go weeks without seeing each other, then you’re at my place cooking me dinner? You said you needed space, I gave you space."

“Woah woah woah, what do you mean I don’t want you around?” Chan asks, alarmed. “When have I ever said that?”

“You made it pretty clear that you didn’t appreciate it when I went to bring you dinner that day,” you start.

“No, baby!” Chan stands up abruptly before you can say anything else. He falters when the loud scrape of his chair causes you to flinch back. He slowly walks towards you and kneels in front of you, reaching out to hold your hands in his. His eyes are wide with earnestness. “Of course I wanted to spend time with you. I always want to be with you.”

“So why did you call me clingy?” you ask in a small voice. Gone is your anger, replaced with a self-consciousness that you can’t hide. You look away as tears prickle your eyes.

Gently, Chan lets go of your hands and cups your cheeks instead, turning your face so that he can see you better. His thumbs swipe under your eyes, brushing away the tears that have managed to escape.

“Baby,” he says, sounding even more upset and angry than you feel. “I'm sorry. Did someone tell you I said that?”

“Nobody had to tell me, I heard you say it myself!” you burst out, pushing Chan away. You know that you’re being dramatic, that you keep oscillating between different emotions, but you don’t care. “That day, in your studio, you told Han and Changbin that I was really clingy.”

“You heard me talking to Binnie and Hannie?” Chan asks slowly.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop,” you sniffle. One of Chan's hands shifts and he carefully tucks behind a lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face. The gentleness makes even more tears well up.

“It's okay, I think I know what you overheard now. It must have hurt, right?”

You can't muster up a response, choosing instead to just nod slightly.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry,” he soothes you. “Can I explain myself?”

You pause for a moment, then slowly nod again.

“I don't mind that you're clingy, actually, I like it. I shouldn't have used that word. I like that you want to spend time with me, Y/n,” Chan says carefully. “I like that you take time to visit me, even though I know that your work is busy too. I think that it's cute and thoughtful that you think of me and try to take care of me by bringing me food. I know that you intentionally take the time out of your day to text me because you know that I like hearing from you, even though I might not see it or respond right away.”

Chan pauses for a second and you use it as an opportunity to pull away slightly. His hands tighten briefly, before he lets them fall away, giving you the space to process.

It's not that you don't like what Chan is saying, it's just hard to reconcile it with the thoughts that have been eating away at you for the past few weeks. You still don't understand what you overheard though, how it fits into all of this. When you voice your concerns to Chan, he sighs, before continuing to speak.

“I don't know what I did to have someone as caring and thoughtful as you in my life.” You want to protest, but Chan carries on before you can say anything. “It's just that- you visited me without notice and were the sweetest person in the world. I wanted to spend time with you, believe me, I did, but I can't just ignore my deadlines when the rest of the members are relying on me. It makes me feel like garbage when I can’t give you all my attention. That's the thing I hate the most. That I can't be the boyfriend that you deserve. That I can't show you how much you mean to me the way that I want to.”

It makes sense, in some sort of twisted way. You know that similarly to you, Chan often feels insecure. It had taken a while before you had been able to convince him that you really did want to be in a relationship with him even with all of the difficulties that were associated with being an idol. You hadn't realised that your visit had fed into his worries that he wasn’t enough.

“I didn't know,” you say quietly. “I'm sorry.”

“Hey, I didn't tell you how I was feeling and that's on me. I’m the one that’s sorry, you have no reason to be. I should have been clearer about what was going through my mind and it wasn't any excuse for the way that spoke to you. Even if I wasn't at my best, I can't believe that I made you feel like I didn't want you to be around.” Chan shakes his head and you can tell that he's beating himself up about it. This time, you're the one that reaches out to him, grabbing one of his hands in both of yours.

“I am sorry that I put you into that position, though. I got caught up in the idea of how fun and romantic it might be, that I didn't give enough consideration to your schedule. Even though I wanted to surprise you, it would have been better to check with you beforehand. I don't ever want you to have to feel like you have to choose between me and work.”

“It was a really nice surprise,” Chan agrees. “I wish that I hadn't been so wrapped up that I wasn't able to enjoy spending time with you. I really hated not being able to see you these past few weeks.”

“It was really hard for me too,” you admit.

“I missed you so much. I missed your beautiful voice, hearing your laugh, seeing your smile. I missed all the texts that you usually send, they make me feel like I'm not as far away, that I'm a part of your day too. You kept saying that everything was fine and- I know it's hard for you, especially during comeback periods when I'm not as responsive. I didn't want to pressure you into messaging me more often if I'm not able to do the same.”

“No, it's not that. It doesn't bother me. Work was, is still really busy for me,” you explain. “I was trying to tell you that day, but-”

“But I basically shut you down,” Chan realises. He laughs bitterly. “I’m just the worst, aren't I? No wonder you were so confused by why I was here.”

“I thought you were going to break up with me tonight,” you whisper. Chan looks devastated by your statement.

 “No- you know I wouldn't-” Chan stumbles on his words in his haste to correct you.

“I don't think that anymore,” you reassure him. “I understand everything now, it was just that we didn't communicate well and I assumed… It's okay, we're together now, this won't happen again.”

“I promise that I will make it up to you. I love you and I will prove it to you in every way possible. And I'm going to start right now. You still haven't eaten yet, please go ahead.” Chan moves back to his abandoned chair and doles out a portion of the stew from the pot that's on the table. 

“I am really hungry,” you confess. Your stomach chooses that exact moment to growl loudly and the two of you can’t help but burst into laughter. 

Just like that, it feels like things are back to normal.

You know that there's still more that you and Chan have to talk about. The two of you have only scratched the surface on your insecurities, communication, and how those things led to such a significant misunderstanding.

But tonight, it's enough that you get to share a meal with the man that you love.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

What the fuck it cut off my tags, whatever

I do deserve a treat :( Thank you <3

sorry for ranting, also sorry half the rant was cut off

this is the single worst way i've ever read to describe an erection, frank herbert

[d1stalker]

All of You, All of Me [Logan Howlett]

Summary: In a world of black and white, the only person who could bring colour to your life is the last one who'd want to.

Warnings: au where everything is black and white until you meet your soulmate, fem!reader, slow burn, angst, running away from feelings, pining, grovelinggg WC: 14.2k - MASTERLIST - A/N: help i'm sorry i didn't mean for it to get this long, but this fic is my baby

----

You've always cherished the idea of having a soulmate—someone who would love you unconditionally, waiting just for you as you them. The thought of finding that perfect match, the one who complements you in every way, is something you’ve always dreamed of. 

But as you get older, the hope you carry seems to dwindle more and more each year. Everyone around you has found their other half, reveling in the newfound ability to see colours in all their glory, and soaking up every moment of shared affection.

Everyone, except for you.

Your world remains a stark, colourless void, as if the universe is deliberately withholding the one thing you desire most.

And to make matters worse, despite not finding your soulmate, you are unequivocally, irrevocably in love with someone who has.

Logan Howlett.

You can’t remember a time where you didn’t feel anything toward him. His rugged, lone-wolf demeanor snuck its way deep into the crevices of your heart, and made itself a home there.

You and him formed an unlikely friendship, formed through the desire to fight back against all the people who’ve wronged mutants. Over the years, you had accepted the fact that while he wasn’t yours, at least you were alone together. Well, until she came.

Jean Grey.

She was strong, charming, and everything you felt you weren’t. It was no wonder her and Logan were meant to be together—the stoic, brooding mutant and his graceful, strong-willed counterpart. 

You remember the day it happened so vividly, it’s almost like you were the one who found their life partner. You and him had been walking around the mansion, when Charles had called you into his office to meet someone new. One look at their faces when they made eye contact and you knew you’d lost him.

It pained you to see them all over each other, all the time. Your once-regular walks in the garden became rare, then vanished entirely. On missions, he no longer looked out for you; his attention was consumed by protecting her. And as much as it hurt, you couldn’t deny they seemed perfect for each other—just as soulmates should be. You had no right to feel jealous.

Then, just as quickly as she had entered his life, she left it. 

The Pheonix was too strong, ripping her apart from the inside out. The pained scream he let out as not only his heart died, but as the world around him faded back into black and white, was forever ingrained into your memory. 

Logan was never the same after that.

 —

You trudge down the familiar halls of the mansion, your feet heavy with the weight of the day. It’s been long, filled with training sessions, team meetings, and a lot of paperwork. All you want to do is retreat to your room, lose yourself in a book, or maybe just sleep until the ache in your chest dulls.

As you walk, you hear faint commotion down the hallway—a low murmur of voices and the occasional clatter of something being moved. But you pay it no mind, too lost in your thoughts to care. Another mission, another discussion, another moment where you aren’t needed. It’s all so routine now.

Lost in your reverie, you don’t notice the figure walking toward you until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, the impact jolting you back to reality.

“Oh, sorry—” you begin, stepping back, but the words die on your lips as you look up.

It’s Logan.

Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him, shock rippling through your body as you process his presence. And for a moment, neither of you speak. You just stand there, taking him in—the man who was once your closest friend, the man who was torn apart by grief and loss. His clothes are rumpled, his skin rougher than you remember, like he’s been through hell and back. 

You hadn’t seem him in a long time. After the devastation, he stopped talking to everyone. He holed himself up in his room for days at a time, only coming out in the dead of night to eat. Either that, or he was away on a mission–anything to stay distracted. 

But now, looking at him, there’s something different off. Something you can’t quite place your finger on. Did he always look like that? Maybe it’s the way the light above is reflecting off of him. Or maybe it’s—oh.

Looking around in surprise, you watch as the usually dark, stoic walls explode into a deep, rich shade. The carpet below you—no longer a mural of grey—radiates colors you can’t name. Your hands, his eyes, his hair-

You want to open your mouth and say something, anything, to the man who has caused your world to shift on its axis, but he’s already turned, walking away from you.

“Give me a fuckin’ break.”

----

Brown. Logan’s hair is brown.

After Logan leaves you paralyzed in the hallway, you run to your room, find the book on colors you had stashed in your bedside table, and throw open the cover. In it is a diagram that displays every known colour and their names. You learn that your favorite pair of pants are maroon, your bedsheets are navy green, and the X-Men suits are bright yellow and blue.

You stare at the page, each word blurring as your mind tries to process the impossible. Logan’s hair is brown. The thought keeps repeating in your head like a mantra, over and over again, until it becomes a steady thrum, drowning out everything else.

Brown.

You sit back on your bed, letting the book slip from your hands, the pages crumpling as it hits the floor.

Why him? Why me? Why now?

You begin to fidget, the adrenaline of the prior moment causing your heart to flail in your chest like crazy. You can’t stay here, you think to yourself. The idea of locked in your room with only your thoughts for company does not sound appealing. You need air, something to ground you, something to clear the haze clouding your head. Without thinking, you jump out of bed and find yourself heading up to the roof, the one place where you can breathe without feeling like the walls of the mansion closing in on you.

The trip up the stairs feels longer than ever before, each step heavy under the weight of your mind. It’s like every thought adds ten pounds. When you open the door, the cool night air hits you like a welcomed slap to the face, and you exhale deeply.

Walking to the edge, you lean against the railing. You’re in a daze - wondering if you made up the entire thing in your head. The only proof that you haven't, and that Logan being your soulmate is real, is the colours that coat the mansion’s grounds. The moonlight bathes everything in what you now know as a soft, silver glow, and for a moment, you just stand there, looking out into the distance.

It doesn’t make sense, and the more you try to wrap your head around it, the more tangled your thoughts become. You don’t want to face the possibility of what it could mean, but you can’t just brush it aside either. It has quite literally changed your entire life. 

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath in an attempt to quiet your racing mind. But when you open them again, you freeze.

Logan is standing at the other end of the roof, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the sky. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and for a split second, you consider turning back, retreating before he sees you. It would be a wise idea - he didn’t want to talk to you then, and he probably doesn’t want to talk to you now. But, it an act that can only be seen as your own body betraying you, you take a step forward. 

The sudden movement catches his attention, and his head snaps in your direction, his eyes locking onto yours. 

“Why are you here?” he asks accusingly.

You hesitate, unsure of how to answer. Seeing him out here was the last thing you had expected, and now that he’s in front of you, you are at a loss of words.

Logan’s eyes narrow, and he pushes off the wall, walking toward you. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I needed air,” you manage to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just needed to clear my head.”

“Well, find somewhere else to do it,” he snaps, “I don’t want company.”

“Logan, I—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, not even bothering to hear you out. “Don’t start. I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t want to hear it.”

You blink, taken aback, and hurt at his coldness. “What are you talking about?”

He lets out a low, humourless laugh, running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t know what’s going on? God, I… this is all so fucking stupid.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you feel a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. “I wasn’t—”

“Enough!” he barks, his voice echoing in the night. “I’m not interested, alright? Whatever it is you think is happening between us, it’s not real. It’s just some stupid trick of the universe, and I’m not playing along.”

His words hit you like a physical blow - like you’ve just been shot at right in the heart - and you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. “I don’t understand. I didn’t mean for any of this—”

“Yeah, well, neither did I,” he snaps at you, “And I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like there’s something here,” he gestures between you two, “when there isn’t. You’re not mine, and I’m sure as hell not yours.”

The finality in his tone leaves you breathless, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him. You have nothing to say back, he’s not giving you any slack. The reality of his rejection sinks in with a brutal, crushing weight, you have to put in effort to not stumble over. 

After a long moment, you finally collect yourself. Then, “Okay,” you whisper. “I understand.”

Logan’s expression doesn’t soften; if anything, it grows colder, more distant.

“Good. Then stay away from me.”

You nod, eyes filling with tears. You quickly turn your face away, not wanting him to see just how much he’s hurt you.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make things worse for you.”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even acknowledge your apology. He just turns away, his back to you, effectively shutting you out.

You stand there for a long moment, watching him walk away for the second time that night. The colours that seemed so vibrant, so full of life just a moment ago, now feel like a cruel reminder of everything you could never have.

—

When you eventually return to your room, all you can do is lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling as your encounter with Logan on the roof replays in your mind on an endless loop, each harsh word he’d thrown at you cutting deeper than the last. It’s causes pain unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, pain that seems to have no end, no respite.

If he doesn’t want you in his life, you’ll accept that. You have to - it’s not like you have a choice. Soulmates are a two-way street.  

You can’t force him to feel something he doesn’t, can’t make him see you in a way he clearly never will. And you understand, don’t you? You can’t even imagine how difficult this would be for him. Losing your soulmate, and then the universe saying Fuck You and giving you another? 

You’ll never ever forget how wrecked he was when Jean died. How her death shattered him into pieces so small you weren’t–no–you’re still not sure he’ll ever be whole again. 

And you—where do you stand in the grand scheme of things? Just as the unfortunate recipient of a bond that neither of you asked for? Are you even allowed to be upset about this?

—

Waking up the next morning, you honestly wish you hadn’t. You knew you weren’t on good terms with Logan after his little rooftop showcase of emotions, but nothing could have prepared you for the way he starts to treat you.

His face is stuck in a perpetual scowl when you’re in his vicinity. He’s leaving every room the moment you enter, refusing to look at you, speak to you, or acknowledge your presence in any way. It’s as if you’ve become invisible, a ghost haunting the same halls you once shared with him. There’s only one thing you two seem to wordlessly agree on: don’t tell anyone. 

Each day following becomes a struggle, an unbearable test of your strength as you try to make it through without breaking. You begin to avoid Logan as much as he avoids you, but the mansion is only so big, and there are always moments when you catch sight of him in the distance, his broad shoulders hunched, his brooding face glaring daggers in your direction. 

It hurts you every time, an unending torture that leaves you stumbling. Still, you bite your tongue and keep moving, pretending you don’t care.

But you do care. You care more than you want to admit, more than you think is possible. Because despite everything—despite the rejection, the coldness, the anger—you still love him. 

And that’s the cruelest twist of all.

So you endure it, day after day, week after week, month after month. Letting it tear you apart piece by piece, because what else can you do? You carry this burden alone, just as you’ve carried your feelings for him all these years. And maybe one day, the pain will fade, the bond will weaken, and you’ll be able to move on.

—

The only person you tell is Charles.

“What’s on your mind, my child?” he asks one day, while you’re sweeping the dust in his office. 

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your hands as you focus on cleaning. You know he’s just asking out of courtesy, and that he could easily crawl into your mind and figure it out himself. He probably wouldn’t even need to put in that much effort, given how loud your thoughts are. But still, you don’t yield to his probing.

“Nothing, really,” you mutter, forcing a small smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Just… tired, I guess.”

Charles watches you carefully, his eyes full of the warmth and compassion he always has, but this time, it makes you feel uncomfortable. Like he can see right through the facade you’re trying so hard to maintain, which you have no doubt, he does. 

“I’m here to help, whatever the burden.”

You want to groan. It’s not like he’s doing it on purpose but damn does it feel like he’s trying to guilt you into confessing that you just recently had your heart shattered. 

“I know, Professor. But… it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“You forget, I worry about all of you,” he replies gently. “It’s in my nature.”

The chuckle that crawls out your throat is nothing short of bitter. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t mean you have to face it alone.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep the emotions at bay. Do you really want to explain to him the insurmountable suffering you’re in, the rejection you faced from the one person who is supposed to be your soulmate? How can you tell him that the bond the universe forged is the very thing tearing you apart?

“It’s just… I don’t know how to make sense of it, Professor,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything’s so… wrong.”

He leans forward slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. “Wrong how?”

Knowing that you’re teetering into confession territory, you hesitate, needing time to collect your thoughts. 

“Logan… he… we… It’s not supposed to be like this, is it?” you eventually get out. Not your best work, but you know he’d get the gist. 

Understanding dawns in Charles’s eyes, and you can see the sympathy there, the quiet acceptance of the truth you’re struggling to voice. “The bond you share… it’s more than you expected, isn’t it?”

You nod, feeling the tears well up again. “But he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want me.”

The professor sighs softly, and he looks at you like you’re a lost puppy. “Logan has been through so much, more than most could bear. His heart has been wounded in ways that are difficult to heal, and it’s not surprising that he would resist this new connection.”

“So why me?” you ask. “Why bind me to someone who will never love me?”

Leaning back in his chair, his fingers steepled thoughtfully, he says, “I wish I had an answer for you, my dear. The universe works in mysterious ways, ways that often defy our understanding. But I do know this: the bond you share is there for a reason. Whether it’s meant to bring you closer or to teach you something important… that remains to be seen.”

“It feels like a punishment,” you whisper, the tears finally spilling over. As much as you hate being put on the hot seat, you can admit that it feels good talking to someone about it.  “Every day, it hurts more. And he won’t even look at me. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

“The heartache you’re feeling is profound, but you must understand that it’s not your fault. Logan’s reaction isn’t a reflection of your worth, but of his own pain and fear.”

He reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your own before continuing.

“To love, even when it’s not returned, takes incredible courage. But you must also take care of yourself. Give Logan the space he needs, and in the meantime, allow yourself the grace to heal.”

So you do. In the days that follow your conversation with Charles, you make a promise to yourself—to try, really try, to focus on your own life, to reclaim the parts of yourself that have been overshadowed by the pain of this unrequited love.

The colours are still there, vivid and vibrant, and though they sometimes feel like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be, you find moments where they bring you joy. You marvel at the deep blue of the sky, the rich greens of the trees, the way the sunlight filters through the leaves and paints the world in golden hues. It’s like seeing the world anew, and in those moments, you allow yourself to feel happiness.

Moreover, you busy yourself, volunteering for every assignment that comes your way. The adrenaline, the focus, the purpose—they all help to drown out the pain, even if only temporarily. And when you return from each mission, tired but satisfied, you feel a little more like yourself again.

The mansion, too, becomes less of a prison and more of a home once more. You start spending more time with the others, rejoining them for meals, for training sessions, for movie nights. 

You laugh with Rogue, spar with Scott, and even find yourself engaging in playful banter with Remy. It’s not perfect, and there are still moments where you catch yourself faltering, when the weight of everything threatens to pull you under, but those moments are becoming fewer and farther between.

You’re healing, slowly but surely, and with each passing day, you feel a little stronger, a little more in control of your life—of your emotions. 

But then there are the times when you cross paths with Logan, and those moments are the hardest.

One evening, after returning from a particularly grueling mission, you find yourself heading toward the kitchen, your mind on the sandwich you plan to make. The place is quiet, most of the team out on various assignments, or finishing up on some work, and you relish the peace as you walk down the corridor.

However, just as you reach the kitchen door and push it open, you find Logan standing there, preparing to exit the room at the exact same moment. Your heart lurches, and you stop dead in your tracks, almost like a deer caught in headlights. 

His gaze meets yours, and all you can see is his impassive, stoic expression. He steps back, giving you space to enter, but the tension between you is palpable.

“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping to the side, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

Logan doesn’t say anything, barely nodding—if you could even it that— before brushing past you, his shoulder grazing yours. The brief contact sends a jolt through your system, and you have to force yourself to stay still and not physically react. 

Once he leaves, you let out a shaky breath, your heart still racing from the encounter. It’s been so long since you’ve been this close to him—so long since you’ve seen the deep brown of his hair that you love so much. You hate this. 

Why does he have no reaction to at all? Why is it only you who seems to care? 

Because you are the only one who does care.

You move into the kitchen, still intent on eating, but it’s a challenge. Your hands are trembling.

—

It all comes to a head one night during dinner. In this rare occasion, both you and Logan are in the same room. You’re supposed to be celebrating Rogue and Gambit’s anniversary, and even though you insisted that they share this special moment together alone, they didn’t take no for an answer. 

That’s how you find yourself, sitting at the grand dining table with all your friends, and Logan. 

He’s across from you. Just your luck.

He refuses to spare you a single glance, his eyes staying busy the whole night. And while it’s been months and months of this, you have never gotten used to it. Still, you can’t help but sneak a few looks at that chocolate-coloured hair. Brown. 

Everything seems to be going smoothly, the food is delicious and the dessert even better, but when Gambit presents Rogue with a giant painting, that’s when you slip up. 

“I love how you blended the red with the blue!” You compliment, loving the way he managed to create the perfect contrast between shades. You’re too caught up in staring at the artwork to realize the table as gone deathly quiet, all eyes on you.

Rogue's expression is one of gentle confusion, her head tilted slightly as she tries to make sense of your words. “Darling, I thought you couldn’t see colour?”

In any other situation, you’re sure the team would have laughed at how comically large your eyes got, and how all the blood draining from your face makes you look like a gaping fish, but in this moment, nothing is funny. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, and when you finally muster the courage to glance at him, you see that his all-too familiar glare you’ve been subject to for the last half-year. It makes your heart thud painfully in your chest

“I…” you begin, but you falter. Your mind is going through a thousand thoughts per minute, searching for an excuse you can use to deflect, to pretend it was just a mistake, but the silence is too heavy, too demanding.

Rogue’s confusion deepens, her gaze flickering between you and Logan, who is now staring at you with an expression that’s impossible to read. She starts to say something, but Remy gently places a hand on her arm, shaking his head slightly as if to tell her to let you speak. 

Logan’s gaze stays locked on you for a moment longer. Then, without a word, he pushes his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. The sound echoes in the silence, and before you can react, he stands up and walks out of the room, his movements stiff, almost mechanical.

The door closes behind him with a quiet click, and the tension in the room thickens. You feel a rush of embarrassment flood through you, your heart sinking as the reality of what just happened crashes over you. 

You lower your head, your eyes stinging with tears that you fight desperately to hold back. But it’s no use. The emotions you’ve been trying to keep buried for so long bubble to the surface, and before you can stop yourself, the tears start to fall. 

“I think I need a moment,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling as you stand up from the table. Without waiting for a response, you hastily excuse yourself and head for the door, not before mumbling a quick apology to the couple in which you were there for.

Soon you find yourself outside in the gardens, the nightly breeze hitting your face as you make your way to a secluded bench. You can’t even appreciate the beauty in what you see, because all you feel is the overwhelming sense of failure and sadness that threatens to swallow you whole.

Sitting down heavily on the bench, you bury your face in your hands and let go. The sobs come hard and fast, each one ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. You’re heartbroken and angry and absolutely over it, but at the same time you feel like a massive asshole because who are you to be upset with a man who’s mourning the loss of a soulmate? 

It’s not fair.

You don’t know how long you sit there, lost in your grief, but eventually, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching. You look up, wiping at your eyes, and see Scott walking toward you.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks gently.

You shake your head, unable to find your voice, and Scott sits down beside you on the bench. 

“I’m sorry,” you croak, “I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

Scott clicks his tongue in disagreement, his gaze focused on the gardens ahead. “You didn’t ruin anything. It’s clear you’ve been carrying this burden for a long time. It’s no wonder it slipped out tonight.”

“So everyone knows now?” you ask. He nods.

“It wasn’t hard to put two and two together,” he concludes, and you groan, bringing your hands to your face.

“I just… I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be pitied.”

“Pity isn’t what anyone feels right now,” Scott says softly. “We’re worried about you. You’ve been hurting, and we didn’t see it. That’s on us.”

“It’s not your fault,” you bring your hands down from your face. “I’ve been trying to deal with it on my own. I thought I could handle it, but… clearly I was wrong”

With a serious expression, Scott turns to look at you. “I know what you’re going through, more than you might realize.”

You glance at him, surprised by his words. “You do?”

He nods, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was in love with Jean, remember? When her and Logan found out they were soulmates… it tore me apart. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to move on, and for a long time, I couldn’t.”

The mention of Jean’s name brings a fresh wave of emotion crashing over you, but there’s also a strange comfort in knowing that Scott understands your pain. “How did you… how did you get through it?”

He sighs, “It wasn’t easy. It took a long time, and I had to accept it.”

You wipe at your eyes again, sniffling as you try to compose yourself. “I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while. Taking a longer mission, just to get away for a bit. Maybe then I can figure out how to move on.”

He is quiet for a moment, considering your words. “If that’s what you need to do, I understand,” he says, “sometimes, a change of scenery can help. Though I think you should try to talk to Logan again.”

Letting out a bitter laugh, you shake your head. “I don’t know if he’ll even listen to me. He’s made it pretty clear how he feels.”

“He’s hurting too,” He decides, “He’s not handling it well, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You both need closure, and running away won’t give you that.”

“What if it just makes things worse?”

“It might.” Scott places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “But it might also give you both the chance to start healing. You deserve that chance.”

You nod slowly, letting the weight of his words sink in. “I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Take the time you need,” he says. “We’re all here for you.”

“Thanks, Scott. That means a lot.” You offer him a small, grateful smile.

With a final nod, he turns and walks back toward the mansion, leaving you once again alone in the quiet of the gardens. You take a deep breath, the idea of leaving still tugs at you, but now, there’s also the thought of confronting Logan—of finding some kind of closure, whatever that might mean.

You really don’t want to do it, and you’re pretty sure it’s just going to end the same way it did last time - with him shutting you out. But Scott’s words echo in your mind, reminding you that healing often requires confrontation, not avoidance.

Goddamn it.

You huff as you stand up from where you’re seated. You can’t keep running from this, can’t keep letting him run from this. You need to talk to Logan, to lay everything out on the table, even if it tears you apart in the process.

Your anxiety builds with each step as you approach his room, and you pause outside his door, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he could hear it if he was listening. This is it. There’s no turning back now. With a shaky breath, you finally raise your hand and knock. 

There’s a long, agonizing pause, making you strain to hear any movement on the other side. For a second, the silence causes you think he might not answer, that he might just ignore you like he’s done so many times before. But then, you hear the faint sound of footsteps approaching the door. Your heart catches in your throat as it slowly opens, revealing Logan standing there, his expression hard and unreadable.

The moment he realizes it’s you, his eyes darken, and he immediately moves to close the door, shutting you out yet again. However, you’re not letting him get away that easily. Before the door can fully close, you stick your foot out, blocking it with more force than you intended.

“C’mon, Logan,” you press. “You know we need to talk.”

He freezes, his grip on the door tightening until his knuckles turn white. His jaw clenches and unclenches, nostrils flaring. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on some distant point as if he can will you away if he tries hard enough. But he doesn’t push the door shut either. The room is thick with suspense, both of you standing there in a silent standoff.

Finally, with a low growl of frustration, Logan steps back, opening the door just a smidge wider, barely enough for you to squeeze through. It’s a reluctant invitation, but it’s all you need.

“Fine,” he mutters, his voice rough, edged with irritation. “Talk.”

You step into the room, and he closes the door behind you, lingering close to it, as if he’s ready to bolt at any second. You feel vulnerable and exposed. It’s suddenly hard to gather your thoughts when he’s standing so close, when the heat of his presence and the distance he’s placed between is right in your face.

“Why did you come?” Logan questions. He still refuses to look directly at you, his gaze fixed somewhere over your shoulder.

“Because we can’t keep pretending this isn’t happening,” you reply, “We need to talk about what’s going on between us.”

His jaw tightens further, and his teeth grind with barely contained frustration. He finally looks at you, his eyes hard and defensive. “There’s nothing to say,” he says bitterly. “I told you how I feel. I thought that was enough.”

“It’s not enough!” you shoot back, your own frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think you can just push me away, pretend like this bond doesn’t exist, and that’s supposed to solve everything? It doesn’t work like that, Logan.”

He flinches slightly at your words, but his keeps his expression hard. “Well what do you want me to say?” he demands, his voice rising. “That I’m sorry? That I didn’t mean to hurt you? Because I am, and I didn’t. But that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t be what you want me to be.”

His words hurt. 

“I know you told me how you feel,” you start, “but you’ve never let me tell you how I feel. You’ve never given me the chance to say that it’s been tearing me apart.”

A flash of guilt. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think you needed to say it. I already knew.”

“That isn’t fair,” you argue.

“You don’t understand,” he counters, “I lost Jean. I loved her, and when she died, it broke something in me. And now… now I’m supposed to just… move on? With you? It’s not that simple.”

“I never asked you to love me, Logan,” you say, your voice trembling with the intensity of your emotions. “I never pushed for anything more than friendship—it’s not like you gave me the chance! You’ve been shutting me out, ignoring me, making me feel like I’m nothing more than a burden, like I don’t even matter!”

You can see that the pain in your voice hitting him hard, but he doesn’t apologize. Instead, he looks away, his expression conflicted. “I’m trying to protect you,” he mutters, the words sounding hollow even to him

“Protect me?” you echo incredulously. “All you’re doing is make me feel like shit. Like I’m worthless. I can’t even be your friend, to help you through this.”

You pause. “You expect us all to know how you’re feeling, but you can’t even communicate it.”

Logan winces, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, filled with a torment you’ve never seen before. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words seem to get caught in his throat. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t be what you want me to be,” he admits, his tone filled with a deep, aching sadness. “I don’t know how to let you in. Without her, I feel like… I can’t let anyone in.”

Your eyes soften a fraction his confession, but there’s also a deep frustration that burns inside you, a frustration born of months of pain and rejection. 

“You haven’t even tried,” you say softly with a quiet resignation, “You haven’t even tried to let me in, to see what we could have been, even if it was just as friends.”

What follows is a long, nagging silence. You let it linger, giving Logan the chance he needs to think of something to say. But there’s no answer, no promise that things will change, and then you realize, with a sinking feeling, that he’s not going to take that step, too broken to try.

That’s when it really hits you. 

Whatever you were fighting for, was a losing battle from the start. 

You give up.

This time, it is you who turns your back on him. 

“Goodbye, Logan. Take care of yourself.”

You don’t wait for a response. You don’t glance back. You walk out of the room, the door closing softly behind you, and with it, the last remnants of hope you had for something more.

— 

You decide to go on the mission.

It’s nothing complicated. Your task is to survey different regions of Europe, ensuring that there are no burgeoning anti-mutant operations threatening the safety of anyone. The primary goal is gathering information, and quiet observation. No violence, Charles told you in the debrief. 

The lack of immediate danger doesn’t make leaving any easier, though. This is as much about finding yourself as it is about fulfilling your duty.

Rogue and Kitty are with you during your final preparations, helping you pack the essentials and offering support in their own ways. They don’t ask many questions, probably sensing that this decision was not just made on a whim. And for that, you’re grateful.

“I still think you’re crazy for going solo,” Rogue says with a half-smile as she zips up your bag. “But if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”

You manage a small smile in return. “Thanks, Rogue. I just need some time…”

Kitty, who’s been quietly folding clothes and tucking them into your bag, looks up, seriousness clouding her gaze.  “We get it. Just promise you’ll keep in touch, okay? And don’t hesitate to call if you need backup.”

“I promise,” you assure.

She hesitates for a moment before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small device—the X-Men communicator gadget. She holds it out to you, and you reach your hand out. 

“Here,” she says softly, pressing the device into your hand. “This is so you can update us on your whereabouts, your status, or any important mission details. Even if you don’t need anything, just… let us know you’re okay, alright?”

You look down at the communicator in your hand, and close your fingers around it, nodding as you meet Kitty’s gaze. 

“Alright, I’ll check in regularly. I won’t leave you guys in the dark.”

Rogue finishes the last bit of organization. “You’ve got this,” she says, “And we’ve got your back, even from a distance.” You nod, appreciating their support more than you can express. 

It almost feels like a walk of shame—leaving the mansion. Everyone knows why too, and that makes it a thousand times worse. But you won’t let it get to you. With one last look, you get in your car and begin on the windy path to the airport. 

—

When you arrive in Europe, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer beauty of the landscape. Each city, each town, has its own unique charm, its own story to tell. The bustling uphill streets of Porto, the serene canals of Venice, the ancient ruins of Athens—they all offer a distraction from the turmoil inside you.

The only good part about this whole mess is that you can see colour, and truly appreciate the sights before you.

You move from one place to the next, blending in with the crowds, quietly observing, gathering information, and sending brief updates to the team through the communicator Kitty gave you. Every message is short, to the point, just enough to let them know you’re safe and on track. You don’t share much beyond the essentials, not wanting to burden them with your personal struggles.

Then, in a small café in Rome, you meet a man named Marco. He’s a traveler like you, exploring Europe with a curiosity that matches your own. He’s warm, easygoing, and before long, the two of you strike up a conversation over coffee.

He is charming in a way that makes you feel at ease, his laughter infectious as he shares stories of his travels. You don’t tell him much about yourself, keeping the details of your mission and your mutant abilities hidden. To him, you’re just another traveler, searching for something—though he doesn’t pry into what that something is.

As the days pass, you and Marco continue to cross paths, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to, someone who doesn’t know about your past, about the things you’re running from. With him, you can be anyone, and for the first time in a long while, you start to feel a little lighter. You find yourself laughing more, the weight on your chest lifting a little each day. You don’t talk about the mission, and you certainly don’t talk about Logan.

One evening, as you’re both sitting on the steps of the Spanish Steps in Rome, watching the sunset, he turns to you with a grin. “So, where are you off to next?”

You hesitate, not wanting to reveal too much, but then you smile. “I’m heading to Florence. There are some places I need to check out.”

His eyes light up. “Florence? I’ve been meaning to re-visit. Mind if I tag along?”

A part of you wants to say no, to keep the distance you’ve carefully maintained, but another part—the part that’s been lonely for so long—nods in agreement. “Sure, why not?”

—

Back at the mansion, things haven’t been as positive. The once lively atmosphere has dimmed, replaced by an uneasy tension that lingers in the halls. The X-Men carry on with their duties, but there’s a noticeable shift—a missing piece that everyone feels but no one talks about. Logan, in particular, has become even more withdrawn, if that’s possible. The man who was once brooding and distant now seems even more so, his mood volatile and unpredictable.

His behavior has become a source of concern for the team. He’s always been rough around the edges, but now, it’s like the slightest thing can set him off. He snaps at everyone, his temper flaring at the smallest provocation. On missions, he’s reckless, throwing himself into danger without a second thought, as if he’s trying to outrun something—or someone. 

In many evenings, Logan finds himself in the mansion’s gym, trying to work off the restless energy that’s been plaguing him for months. The room is always empty, save for him, the steady rhythm of his fists pounding against the punching bag being the only sound. Sweat drips down his face, his muscles straining as he channels all his frustration and anger into each punch. Yet, no matter how hard he hits, he can’t seem to shake the thoughts of you that have been haunting him.

This night, door to the gym creaks open, and Logan doesn’t need to look up to know who it is. He can sense the other man’s presence, feel the weight of his gaze as he steps inside. He doesn’t slow his punches, doesn’t acknowledge Scott’s presence, but he knows why he’s here. They’ve had this conversation before—or something like it—but nothing’s changed. Nothing’s gotten better.

Scott watches him for a moment, his expression unreadable. He’s been watching Logan spiral for weeks now, but he’s kept his distance, knowing that he’d only be pushed away. But this can’t go on—Logan can’t keep doing this, can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he refuses to confront.

“She wouldn’t want this,” he finally says, voice cutting through the steady thud of Logan’s fists against the bag.

Logan’s movements falter for just a second before he resumes, his jaw tightening. “Who?” he growls, not bothering to turn around. “Her or Jean?”

Scott doesn’t flinch at the harshness in the other man’s tone. He steps closer, his eyes steady on their target as he answers, “Both.”

Finally, Logan stops. His fists still as he leans against the bag, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His shoulders are tense, the weight of Scott’s words pressing down on him like a physical burden. He doesn’t want to hear this, doesn’t want to be reminded of what he’s lost—of who he’s lost. 

Taking a step closer, Scott’s voice is firm. “Look, I’m not a spiritual person. But I also don’t think the universe messed up with this.”

Clenching, his fists, Logan knows what the other man is getting at, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. Doesn’t want to think about what could have been, what he’s been too scared to even consider.

“I know you know how I felt about Jean,” Scott says quietly, knowing he’s breaching a sensitive subject. “Losing her… it killed me too. And if I had been given a chance—a real chance to be with her, to make things right—I would have taken it. No hesitation.”

Logan’s breath hitches at that. The truth is, he’s been running—running from you, from the bond you share, from the possibility of something real. 

“I’m not saying you should chase after her,” he continues. “But I am saying that you need to stop running from her. The universe doesn’t just throw things like this at us for no reason. And you know that.”

The weight of Scott’s words settle over Logan like a shroud. He knows the other man is right—deep down, he’s always known. But that doesn’t make it any easier. The fear, the guilt, the pain of losing Jean—it’s all still there, gnawing at him, holding him back. 

There’s something else too, something he’s been trying to ignore but can’t any longer: the way he feels about you, the way he’s always felt, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself. One of the first thought’s that ran through his head when his world re-erupted into colour was that, had this happened before Jean, maybe it could have worked. Maybe he could have been what you wanted, felt something real.

Scott takes a step back, giving Logan the space he needs. “Just think about it,” he says softly. “Think about what you really want. And don’t wait until it’s too late to figure it out.”

Logan doesn’t respond, but Scott doesn’t need him to. He’s said what he needed to say, and now it’s up to him to decide what comes next. With a final look, Scott turns and leaves the gym, the door closing softly behind him.

The clawed mutant stands there for a long time, his fists still clenched, his mind racing. He knows he can’t keep doing this—can’t keep tearing himself apart over something he can’t change, something he’s too afraid to confront.

But change is terrifying, especially when it means facing the truth. The truth that maybe, just maybe, the bond he shares with you is something worth fighting for. Something that Jean wouldn’t want him to throw away.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Logan finally lets his fists unclench, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. He doesn’t have all the answers—hell, he barely knows where to start—but he knows one thing for sure: he's can’t run away anymore. Not from this, not from you.

—

You’ve now spent days in Florence, wandering through the Uffizi Gallery, marveling at the works of the Renaissance masters, and evenings enjoying the quiet serenity of the Arno River. With you, Marco. You’ve grown to trust him. He’s never made you uncomfortable, never had any intentions to take advantage of you, and knows all the best restaurants. 

But there’s always been a small, nagging doubt that you’ve pushed aside—a feeling that something isn’t quite right. You’ve ignored it, convincing yourself that you’re just being paranoid after everything you’ve been through. After all, he has been nothing but kind, always knowing the right thing to say, always showing up just when you need someone.

It isn’t until the two of you are exploring a quieter part of Florence, that the doubt flares into something more. You’re walking through an old, narrow alleyway, the kind that tourists rarely venture into, when Marco suggests you take a shortcut through a small, unmarked door in the side of a building.

“I found this place the last time I was here,” Marco says, his smile as easy as ever. “It’s a hidden gem, leads right to a beautiful courtyard. You’ll love it.”

You hesitate, something in his tone—or maybe it’s the way his eyes gleam just a little too brightly—sets off alarm bells in your mind. You’ve come to trust him though, haven’t you? You’ve traveled together for weeks, shared countless stories and laughs. Surely, he wouldn’t lead you into danger.

Still, as you step through the door, the darkened space beyond immediately feels wrong. The air is colder, damp, and the walls are lined with strange, unidentifiable equipment. You glance back at Marco, and that’s when you see it—the change in his expression. The warmth is gone, replaced by something cold and calculating.

Before you can react, you feel a sharp prick in your arm. Your vision blurs, and your body goes numb almost instantly. You stumble back, trying to push away, but your legs give out, and you collapse to the floor.

Marco looms over you, the smile gone from his face, replaced by a look of triumph. “Did you really think I didn’t know?” he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a mutant, and you thought you could hide it from me?”

The world around you spins as the drug takes full effect, but you force your mind to stay focused. “What… why?” you manage to whisper, the betrayal cutting deep.

“Why?” He laughs, the sound harsh and devoid of any warmth. “Because mutants like you are worth a fortune. My clients pay top dollar for… research subjects. And you, my dear, are about to make me very, very rich.”

You try to move, to fight back, but your body refuses to respond. Panic rises in your chest as he kneels beside you, pulling out a small device that looks like a portable scanner. He runs it over you, and it emits a low hum as it registers your vital signs, confirming what he already knows. You’re weak. 

“You won’t get away with this,” you say.

“Oh, but I already have,” he replies with cruel satisfaction. “No one knows where you are. And even if they did, it’ll be too late by the time they find you.”

With the last bit of strength you can muster, you reach into your pocket, fingers trembling as you fumble with the X-Men communicator that Kitty gave you. His attention is momentarily distracted as he prepares a syringe filled with a clear liquid, and you seize the opportunity. You manage to pull out the communicator, your fingers barely able to grip it. Then, with a deep breath, you press the SOS button, the screen flashing to life.

You type in the message as quickly as you can, your vision blurring even more as the drug takes hold. 

Location: Florence. 

Message: Help.

Just as you hit send, Marco notices what you’re doing. His eyes widen in anger, and he grabs your wrist, yanking the communicator out of your hand. “You little—!” he snarls, but it’s too late. The message has already been sent.

His face contorts in rage as he slams the gadget against the ground, smashing it to pieces. He glares down at you, his hand tightening painfully around your wrist. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? But it doesn’t matter. They’ll never get here in time.”

Your strength is nearly gone, the drug pulling you into unconsciousness, but you manage one last defiant look. “You won’t win,” you whisper with the last of your energy.

Marco releases your wrist with a sneer, standing up and looking down at you with contempt again. “We’ll see about that,” he mutters before turning away, leaving you on the cold, hard floor as darkness overtakes you. 

You can only hope they—that Logan—will reach you in time.

—

The signal comes through during a meeting. A sudden, loud beep cuts through the room,  and everyone freezes, their attention immediately drawn to the source of the sound. To Kitty’s pocket. It’s the X-Men communicator, the one linked to your device. 

Logan’s head snaps up, his eyes narrowing as he recognizes the tone. He’s on his feet before anyone else can react, his heart pounding in his chest. “What the hell was that?” he demands, his voice tense with urgency.

Kitty quickly pulls it out of her pocket, her eyes widening as she reads the message that’s flashed across the screen. Her face pales, and she looks up at the others, her voice trembling as she speaks. “It’s from her… Florence… Help.”

There’s a brief pause, maybe a second long in length, and then the room erupts into a flurry of movement. 

Chairs scrape against the floor as the team rises to their feet, already preparing for action. But Logan is the first to react, his face a mask of fury and determination. “I’m going,” he growls, already heading for the door.

“Logan, wait!” Scott steps forward, blocking Logan’s path with a firm hand on his chest. 

“Get out of my way, Summers,” He snarls, his voice filled with barely controlled rage. “I’m not waiting around while she’s in danger.”

“We can’t just rush in without a plan,” Scott insists, trying to keep his own emotions in check. “We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

Logan shoves the other mutant’s hand away, his eyes blazing with anger. “She sent an SOS, Scott! She needs help, and we’re wasting time standing here talking about it!”

The rest of the team watches the confrontation with anxious eyes, knowing that things could easily escalate. Logan’s been on edge for weeks, and the urgency of the situation—of you— has pushed him to the brink. 

“Logan,” Ororo interjects, “We understand how you feel, but we need to think this through. If this is a trap—”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s a trap!” He snaps, his voice rising. “She’s part of our team! We can’t just leave her there!”

“That’s not what we’re saying,” Scott tries to reason, but Logan isn’t having it.

“Then what the hell are you sayin’?” He demands, his frustration boiling over. “Why are we wasting time when we should be getting her out of there?”

There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence, and then it’s Rogue who steps forward, conflicted. “Logan… what if… what if she doesn’t want to see you?”

He freezes, the words hitting him harder than any physical blow could. He stares at Rogue, disbelief and anger warring in his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls.

Rogue swallows, her eyes filled with worry. “She left because she needed time, Logan. Because things between you two… they weren’t good. Maybe she—maybe she doesn’t want you to be the one to save her.”

Clenching his hands into fists, his body is taut with tension. “Fuck that!” he roars with a fierce, protective rage. “She’s part of our team! She sent that message to us, to the X-Men, because she needs our help. I don’t care what’s happened between us, I’m not leavin’ her there!”

The room falls silent, the weight of Logan’s words settling over everyone. They know Logan is right—she’s part of the team, and they can’t leave her behind. But they also know that the situation is more complicated than that.

Scott takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he looks at Logan. “We’re not saying we shouldn’t go after her, Logan. We’re saying that you need to be prepared for whatever we might find when we get there. She might be in a bad place, and she might not be ready to face you.”

“I don’t care,” he says after a brief pause, his voice quieter now, but no less determined. “I’m going to get her out of there. Whether she wants to see me or not, I’m not lettin’ her go through this alone.”

Scott studies Logan for a long moment, then finally nods. “Alright. But we do this together, as a team.”

Logan nods, his jaw set in a grim line. “Fine. Let’s go.”

—

Your eyes snap open, the dim light of the room piercing your vision. You’re in a large, abandoned warehouse. Your head feels heavy, like it’s filled with cotton, and there’s a dull, throbbing pain at the base of your skull. As you try to move, you realize with a jolt of fear that you’re restrained, your arms and legs strapped tightly to a chair. Panic flares in your chest, and you struggle against the bonds, but they don’t budge.

And then you see him—Marco, standing a few feet away, watching you with a smirk that sends a chill down your spine. His eyes gleam with satisfaction, and you realize with horror that you’ve been caught, trapped in whatever twisted game he’s been playing.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he says, voice dripping with mock concern. “I was starting to wonder if I’d given you too much of the sedative. But it seems you’re tougher than I thought.”

You try to respond, but a gag in your mouth muffles your words, turning them into incoherent sounds. You glare at him your eyes burning with fury.

He only chuckles, clearly amused by your resistance. “Oh, don’t bother trying to speak. We wouldn’t want you calling for help, now would we? Though, I must say, I’m impressed you managed to send that little SOS before I caught on. Clever, but ultimately futile.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks you over, his expression turning cold. “You know, I’ve dealt with a lot of mutants in my time, but there’s something special about you. Something… unique.” He reaches out and grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Too bad your powers won’t do you any good here. The drug I gave you should keep you nice and powerless for the foreseeable future.”

Straining against the bonds, you continue to try to break free, but he drug in your system dulls your abilities, leaving you feeling weak and vulnerable. All you can do is stare at him with hatred as he continues to taunt you.

“Such fire in your eyes,” Marco murmurs, almost to himself. “It’s a shame you’ll never see the light of day again. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure your abilities are put to good use.”

He lets go of your chin, his hand trailing down to your shoulder in a way that makes your skin crawl. “Now, let’s see what we can do to make you a little more… compliant.”

Just as he reaches into his coat pocket, presumably for another syringe, a sudden, loud crash echoes through the warehouse. The sound of splintering wood and shattering glass fills the air, followed by the unmistakable hum of energy blasts and the heavy thud of boots on the concrete floor.

The X-Men have arrived.

Marco’s eyes widen in surprise and then narrow in anger. He spins around, barking orders at the security guards scattered throughout the warehouse. “Stop them! Don’t let them get near her!”

The guards rush forward, weapons drawn, but they’re no match for your friends. The familiar sounds of battle flood your ears—Rogue’s powerful punches, Scott’s optic blasts, and Storm’s lightning crackling through the air. You struggle against your restraints again, desperate to free yourself, but it’s no use. 

Then, you catch a glimpse of Logan. He’s fighting his way toward you, his claws out, slicing through anyone who gets in his way. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, your eyes meet his, and you can see the raw determination in his gaze. He’s coming for you.

But just as he takes a step forward, something changes. He hesitates. You can’t hear what he’s thinking, but you can see the conflict on his face—the way he seems to second-guess himself, the way his steps falter. Your heart sinks as you realize he’s unsure, almost as if he's torn between wanting to save you and fearing that you don’t want him to.

In that split second of hesitation, Rogue swoops in, landing beside you with a determined look on her face. She doesn’t waste any time, using her strength to tear through the restraints that bind you. “We’ve got you, sugah,” she says, her voice steady and reassuring as she pulls the gag from your mouth. “You’re safe now.”

You nod, your throat too dry and your body too weak to speak. Your muscles scream in protest as you try to stand, but she quickly wraps an arm around you, helping you to your feet. You’re shaky, your body still reeling from the effects of the drug, but you’re free. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan still standing there, his eyes locked on you, his expression unreadable. He wanted to save you. He wanted to be the one to pull you out of that nightmare, but something held him back.

Rogue helps you toward the exit as the rest of the team continues to subdue the guards and Marco. You lean heavily on her, your legs barely able to support your weight, but you force yourself to keep moving. 

And when everyone else has back in the jet, hugging you and comforting you, you look over to Logan, who sits far away, on the opposite side, refusing to meet your gaze. 

—

Returning to the mansion feels like stepping back into a familiar, comforting embrace. You missed the soft, warm bed in your room, the quiet serenity of the gardens, and the comforting presence of your friends. It's been a few days since the whole ordeal in Florence, and the drug has finally worked its way out of your system. Your strength has returned, and physically, you feel like yourself again. The mansion, too, seems unchanged—still the safe haven you’ve always known.

But as the days pass, you begin to notice that while many things have returned to normal, some things have not. You’ve seen most of your friends, their faces lighting up when they see you, their hugs tight and full of relief. There have been quiet conversations and laughter, shared meals in the kitchen, and moments that remind you why this place is home.

Except, there’s one person you haven’t seen. Logan.

His absence is like a shadow that follows you wherever you go. You’ve felt his presence in the mansion—heard his voice in the halls, the sound of his footsteps on the floorboards—but he’s kept his distance. He hasn’t sought you out, hasn’t tried to talk to you, and that stings more than you want to admit.

You’ve tried to stay strong, to remind yourself of the resilience you found during your time away. You’ve reminded yourself over and over that you don’t need anyone else to validate your worth, that you can stand on your own. Yet the longer Logan avoids you, the harder it is to hold on to that strength. The old wounds, the ones you thought had begun to heal, start to ache again, and you can’t help but wonder if anything has really changed at all.

More often than not, you find yourself retreating to the front lawn. The sun is warm on your skin as you lie down in the grass, a book in hand. The soft rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of life inside the mansion create a peaceful background, and for a moment, you manage to lose yourself in the pages of your book.

Still, even here, in the sanctuary of the garden, the thoughts you’ve been trying to push aside keep creeping back in. The memory of Florence, of Logan’s hesitation, lingers like a bitter aftertaste. You replay the moment over and over in your mind, trying to make sense of it, trying to understand why he stopped, why he didn’t come for you.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the shadow that falls across your page until a deep, familiar voice breaks the silence.

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

The voice startles you, and you jerk slightly, looking up to see Logan standing above you. His expression is guarded, as if he’s not sure how you’ll react to his presence. There’s a tautness to his posture, a stiffness that you recognize all too well. 

For a moment, you just stare at him, caught off guard by the suddenness of his appearance. He’s as rugged and intimidating as ever, but there’s something different in his eyes—something a tad bit softer. You close your book, sitting up slowly as you meet his gaze. The question that’s been gnawing at you since Florence rises to the surface, and you know you can’t keep it inside any longer.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “In Florence?”

His jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment, his gaze shifting to the trees in the distance. He doesn’t answer immediately, and the silence stretches out between you, thick with unspoken words. 

You just watch him, waiting for an explanation, but there’s a part of you that’s already bracing for disappointment. You’ve been here before, waiting for Logan to decide what happens next, to take the lead. And you’re tired of it. You’re tired of being the one left in the dark, of being the one who has to wait for him to be ready.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the world is pressing down on him. “I… I hesitated,” he admits huskily, almost in a growl. “I wanted to save you. Hell, I was going to. But then… I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

His confession hangs in the air, and you feel a mix of emotions—surprise, confusion, and sadness. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t realized that his hesitation was rooted in something so painfully human.

“Why wouldn’t I want you to?” you ask softly, searching his face for answers.

Logan finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes takes your breath away. “Because of everything that’s happened between us. Because I pushed you away. I hurt you, and I thought… maybe you’d be better off if it wasn’t me.”

You shake your head, trying to make sense of his reasoning. “Logan, this can’t keep being about what you think is best,” you begin. “And it’s not about who saves who. It’s about being there when it counts. You were there. You came for me.”

He doesn’t have a response to that, at least not right away. He looks down at the ground, his fists unclenching, his shoulders slumping even further. It’s like he’s carrying the weight of everything he’s done, everything he’s failed to do, and it’s crushing him. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally manages to get out. “For everything.”

You stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I know I’ve messed up,” he continues. “I know I haven’t been there for you like I should’ve. But I’m here now. And if you’ll let me… I want to try to make things right.”

You know you should be happy—this is everything you’ve wanted to hear from him for so long. But it’s also too much, too late. The doubt, the pain, it can’t just disappear with a snap of your fingers.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” you admit. 

There’s pain on his face. “I get it,” he says, his voice rough but steady. “I know I’ve got a lot to make up for. And I know it’s not going to happen overnight. But I’m willing to do whatever it takes, if it means I can earn your trust back.”

“I need time. I need time to figure out where I stand, and where you stand with me.”

He nods slowly, his gaze dropping to the ground again. “Take all the time you need,” he says quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I appreciate that,” With a small nod, you stand up, brushing the grass off your clothes. “I need time,” you repeat, more for your own benefit than his.

“And you’ve got it,” Logan replies. “As much as you need.”

—

Days turn into weeks, and weeks into months. You focus on yourself, on healing the wounds that were reopened during your conversation with Logan. It feels strange, being the one who needs space, but you know it’s necessary. You find things to take your mind off him: you train more, read more, spend more time with Rogue, Kitty, or Remy. It’s nice.

But Logan… Logan doesn’t give up. He knows you need time, and he respects that. He doesn’t push, doesn’t pressure you to make a decision, but he makes it clear through his actions that he hasn’t forgotten about you, and more importantly, that he isn’t going anywhere.

It starts with the small things—things so subtle that you almost don’t notice at first. You probably wouldn’t have suspected anything if you hadn’t known the kind of person he is. He’s nothing if not persistent. He knows you better than you realize—the rift he created after Jean’s death muddling with your memory—and he uses that knowledge to quietly, almost imperceptibly, work his way back into your life.

In the mornings, you wake up to find your favorite snacks waiting for you in the kitchen, carefully placed where you’d be sure to see them. He never mentions it, never takes credit, but you know it’s him. It’s in the way he glances at you from the corner of his eye as you take a bite, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never makes a big deal out of it—just a quiet, unspoken gesture that says, I’m thinking of you.

Then there are the late-night training sessions. You go down to the Danger Room or the gym, hoping to clear your mind with a bit of solitary exercise, only to find Logan already there. At first, you’re tempted to leave, to find somewhere else to work out, but something in his demeanor stops you. He doesn’t approach you, doesn’t speak unless you initiate it. Instead, he just… exists beside you, his presence steady and reassuring, like a rock in the storm.

It’s in these moments that you begin to see a different side of Logan—one that’s patient, understanding, and perhaps a little unsure of himself. He follows your lead, mirroring your exercises or silently spotting you during weightlifting, always attentive to your needs without ever making you feel pressured or overwhelmed. He’s just there, offering his support in the quietest, most understated way possible.

And then there are the little surprises in your room—small, thoughtful gestures that you can’t help but notice. A favorite book you’d mentioned in passing suddenly appears on your nightstand, its pages pristine and waiting for you to dive into. The time-worn leather straps on your gear are suddenly replaced with new ones that fit perfectly, the stitching unmistakably done by Logan’s hand. Even your plants, the ones you’d worried would wither away while you were on a mission, seem to thrive in your absence, the soil freshly watered and the leaves turned toward the sun.

He never asks for thanks, never draws attention to what he’s doing. It’s all done quietly, behind the scenes, as if he’s afraid that if you notice too much, you might push him away. But you do notice. How could you not?

At first, you try to ignore it, telling yourself that these gestures don’t change anything, that they’re just a way for Logan to assuage his guilt. You tell yourself that he’s just doing this because he feels bad, because he wants to make up for the past, not because he actually cares. You’ve built walls around your heart for a reason, and you’re not ready to let them down just because he’s being nice.

But over time, those small gestures begin to chip away at those walls, brick by brick. You start to realize that Logan isn’t just going through the motions—he’s really paying attention, noticing the little things that make you who you are. It isn’t just about the snacks or the books or the plants—it’s about the way he remembers the details of your life, the things that matter to you, the things that make you feel seen and understood.

After a particularly long and stressful day, you return to your room exhausted, and all you want is to collapse into bed and forget the world for a while. But when you walk in, you find a small bouquet of wildflowers sitting on your nightstand, the beautiful colors a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that have been swirling in your mind all day. There’s no note, no explanation—there never is—but you know who left them.

You just stand there, staring at the flowers, your heart squeezing in your chest. It’s such a simple gesture, and yet it means so much. You’d forgotten that Logan knew how much you love wildflowers—you’d mentioned it once, years ago. The way they’re resilient, thriving even in the harshest conditions, blooming where others wouldn’t. It’s as if he’s telling you that he sees that strength in you, that he admires it.

And it’s then, in the quiet of your room, surrounded by the small, thoughtful gestures that Logan has left behind, that you realize something. This isn’t just about making up for the past. Logan is showing you, in the only way he knows how, that he wants this. Wants you.

He's finally picked up the pieces of him that fell apart after Jean’s death, and he is willing to pick up the pieces of you that fell apart after his rejection.

So, one evening, months after that fateful conversation on the lawn, you find yourself standing in the common room, staring at the fireplace, lost in thought. The mansion is quiet, the rest of the team either out on a mission or asleep. It’s just you and the flickering flames, the soft crackling of the fire the only sound in the room.

But when you hear footsteps behind you, heavy and deliberate, you know instantly who it is. Without turning, you can sense his presence, the way he moves with that quiet confidence, the way the air seems to shift when he is near. Logan has always had a way of grounding you, even when you don’t want him to.

He walks up beside you, stopping just short of touching you, his warmth radiating in the small space between your bodies. He doesn’t say anything at first, doesn’t ask why you’re here or try to force a conversation. He just stands there, his hands shoved into his pockets, waiting patiently, giving you the time you need. It’s something you’ve come to appreciate about him in recent months—his newfound ability to just be, without pushing or demanding more than you’re ready to give.

"I’ve been thinking," you say finally, your voice soft, as you continue to gaze into the flames.

"Yeah?" Logan asks, his tone careful, as if he’s afraid of saying the wrong thing.

You turn to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "You’ve been… different. Doing all these little things… I see them, you know."

Logan’s eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long time, you see hope there. "I just wanted you to know that I care. That I’m sorry," he says, with so much emotion. “You were never a burden to me.”

You swallow hard. "It’s hard for me, Logan," you admit, "I’ve been hurt before, and I’m scared. Scared that if I let myself love you again, you’ll just… break me."

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "I’d never hurt you again," he says, "I’d rather cut off my own damn hand than hurt you. The past is the past, and you are my future."

That’s enough to make your walls crumble completely. You know, deep down, that Logan is telling the truth. That he’s willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust again.

And in that moment, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to let him.

You don’t say anything. Instead, you let your actions speak for you. You close the distance between you, standing on your toes as you press your lips to his in a gentle, tentative kiss. Logan freezes for a split second, as if he can’t believe this is really happening, but then he kisses you back, his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close, holding you as if he never wants to let go.

The kiss is slow, tender, full of everything that has been building between you for so long. It isn’t just a kiss—it’s a promise, a commitment to try again, to rebuild what has been broken. When you finally pull back, your breath mingling with his, you rest your head on his shoulder. "I’m still scared," you whisper.

"I know," Logan replies, his arms tightening around you. "But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll take this slow, darlin’. Whatever you need."

You nod. "Okay."

Logan smiles then, a real, genuine smile that makes your heart flutter in a way it hasn’t in years. It’s a smile full of relief, of gratitude, of love—a smile that tells you that he understands just how much this moment means, just how much you’re giving him by letting him back into your heart.

—

The time that follows is a slow, steady journey of rebuilding trust. Logan is true to his word—he is patient, understanding, and surprisingly tender in ways you hadn’t expected. The small gestures continue—coffee waiting for you in the morning, a gentle hand on your back during missions, quiet moments of companionship where no words are needed.

You can feel the doubts you’ve been holding onto slowly begin to fade. Each time Logan shows up for you, each time he puts your needs above his own, it chips away at the fear that has kept you guarded for so long. It’s in the way he listens when you talk, truly listens, as if every word you say matters. It’s in the way he looks at you—not with the same fury he once had, but with a steady, enduring affection that speaks of something deeper.

With Jean, he loved her because she was his soulmate, she was who the universe destined him to be with. He loved her because that’s what he thought he had to do.

With you, he has a choice. He doesn’t need to acknowledge the bond, but he chooses to. He chooses to everyday and he’ll never stop. He loves you because he wants to, not because he has to.

One evening, you find yourself sitting on the mansion’s porch watching the sunset. Logan joins you without a word, sitting close enough that your shoulders brush. 

“You’ve been quiet today,” he says softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“I’ve just been thinking,” you reply, leaning your head on his shoulder. It’s a simple gesture, but one that speaks volumes about how far you’ve come in trusting him again.

“’Bout what?” he asks, his voice gentle.

“About us,” you say, your voice steady. “About how things have changed. How… how good they’ve been.”

Logan’s hand finds yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a way that feels so natural, so right. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you echo, squeezing his hand. “I’m not scared anymore, Logan. Not like I was.”

He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours. “You sure?”

You nod, smiling softly. “I’m sure. You’ve shown me that this bond means something to you, that you’re not going to hurt me. And… I want this. I want us.”

Logan’s face lights up with so much love, that it takes your breath away. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m glad, darlin’. Because I want us too. More than anything.”

—

It isn’t long before the rest of the X-Men begin to notice the change in Logan as well. At first, it’s subtle—small things like the way he looks at you during briefings, or the way he seems to be more patient, more relaxed when you’re around. But over time, it becomes impossible to ignore.

During a training session in the Danger Room, you’re paired with Logan for a simulated mission. The others watch as Logan moves with you in perfect sync, his focus not just on the mission but on you—making sure you’re safe, supporting you when needed, and trusting you completely. It’s a far cry from the Logan they had seen when he was in mourning, where his moves were rash and careless.

After the session, as you and Logan leave the Danger Room, you catch sight of Ororo and Scott exchanging a look, the kind of look that speaks volumes, full of surprise and a touch of amusement.

“What?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you approach them.

Ororo smiles warmly, a knowing glint in her eyes. “Nothing, just… noticing how good you two are together.”

Scott nods in agreement, his expression softening as he glances at Logan. “Yeah, it’s… different, finally seeing him like this. In a good way.”

Logan shrugs, but there’s no hiding the small smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “What’re you guys talking about?”

“Just that it’s nice to see you happy, Logan,” Ororo says gently. “Really happy.”

Logan looks at you then, his smile growing as he meets your gaze. “Yeah. It is.”

More members of the team begin to notice the change in Logan as time goes on. Rogue, who has always had a soft spot for him, comments on how he seems more at ease, less burdened by the weight of his past. Hank, ever the observer, points out how Logan’s demeanor has shifted—less brooding, more open. Even Charles, who has seen Logan through his darkest times, pulls you aside one day to express his approval.

“I must say,” Charles says, his tone warm and approving, “I haven’t seen Logan like this in a very long time. Whatever you two have managed to sort out, it’s working.”

And it is. Slowly but surely, the wounds that had once held you back have healed. The doubts that had kept you from fully embracing your relationship with Logan have faded, replaced by a deep, abiding love. It isn’t just the little gestures anymore—it’s the way Logan makes you feel seen, heard, and cherished in a way that no one else ever has.

—

“I never thought we’d get here,” you admit one night whilst looking up at the stars.

Logan looks at you, his expression tender. “Neither did I,” he says, his voice full of sincerity. “But I’m damn glad we did.”

You smile, leaning into him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “I love you, Logan. And I trust you. Completely.”

His grip tightens slightly, as if to hold onto the moment, to hold onto you. “I love you too, darlin’. I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.”

You know what he’s trying to say. So without thinking, you reach up and cup his face, drawing him closer until your lips are just a breath away from his. “Show me,” you whisper, your voice low and filled with desire.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. He closes the small gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that is soft at first, almost tentative, as if he’s savoring the feel of you. 

You can feel the heat between you building, the kiss growing more fervent as your hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, then into his hair. Brown. 

His hands slide up your back, one hand tangling in your hair as he angles your head, deepening the kiss further until you’re both breathless.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting against each other’s, you’re both panting, your hearts racing in sync. His eyes are dark with desire, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he holds you close.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs. “I never thought I’d get my happy ending, but here you are… and I’m never lettin’ you go.”

You smile, feeling the last remnants of pain melt away, replaced by a certainty that this is where you’re meant to be. “And I’m never leaving,” you whisper back, sealing your words with another kiss that quickly reignites the fire between you.

This kiss is hungrier, more urgent, as if you both need to make up for lost time. Logan’s hands roam your body with a possessiveness that sends shivers down your spine, his touch igniting a fire in your core.

That night, you lose yourself in him, in the way he tastes, in the way he makes love to you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. Because this time, you’re not just in love—you’re in love with a man who loves you back, fully and completely. 

And that makes all the difference.

----

a/n: i love you if you made it this far. please check out my new series The Feeling's Mutual

[3amfanfiction]

For the worms: Johnny prescribing to the idea “sharing is caring” when his newest girlfriend makes it past the two months mark (something previously thought impossible), don’t worry guys, it’s not “my girlfriend” she’s “our girlfriend”

Oh Temp you know the way to my heart. I love a good 'our girlfriend' moment. There's something so delicious about the entitlement of it, it lends a certain flavor that tickles my fancy. poly 141 x fem!reader. 7k words about (unknowingly) being the team's girlfriend. This is nothing but smut, enjoy!

~~~~

He knew you were the one the first time he met you.

You got him, in ways no one else ever had. You got his energy, his excitement, his need for stimulation. He knew he could be a lot but he also knew he'd never been too much. He'd just been waiting for someone like you.

He never listened when the guys wanted to dog on him saying no one would put up for long with how much he talked. He was a chatty guy, okay? He had a lot of thoughts running through his head and he wanted to share them with people. You never knew which thoughts were going to be strokes of genius until they're spoken after all.

And while he would talk about anything under the sun, he talked about his team most of all. Probably more than he should if he was being completely honest but it was hard not to talk about the people he loved. He was talking about you to them just as much after all. The two halves of his life overlapping as often as he could make them.

But you loved it. You loved him. It was obvious every time you told him to make sure he ate lunch as he was headed out the door, lunch bag swinging from his hand, bursting with goodies you'd packed up the night before. Every time you texted him first, took his trash with yours to throw away, brushed your hand down his arm in greeting, always winding up with your fingers tangled together as he pulled you in for a kiss. Your whole existence showed how much you loved him.

It was fate. It was perfect. It was another sign it was meant to be that it was your 2-month anniversary when you broke the news to him as you were walking him to the door one morning. He'd stayed over the night before because he knew he was going to be working late tonight so you both celebrated one day early. And what a celebration it had been. He'd stolen his three kisses at the door and was getting ready to step over the threshold when he realized just how big your heart was and the fact that you truly were listening whenever he spoke.

"Tell your team I said hi," you said, smiling sweetly up at him, sleep shirt rumpled and hair a gorgeous mess, "there's extra muffins for everyone in your bag."

Oh.

He hadn't realized—but that was okay—he should've noticed—poor lass, had he not been holding up his side of the relationship? The part where you support your partner and their needs and wants? He hadn't seen what you wanted but he understood now. You'd made your feelings known and who was he to stand in the way?

Beaming down at you he peppered your face with kisses, holding your cheeks firmly between his wide palms. Words broken up with the showering of kisses, "I'll tell them love, don't you worry—I'll tell them."

Best anniversary ever.

—

You were pleased with how your day had gone. You'd spent it picking up the house, doing a grocery run, you spent a good few hours on your hobby, and started on a dinner that would get you through lunches for the rest of the week. Your day left you feeling good so you threw on your comfiest t-shirt and sleep shorts combo and camped out on the sofa while dinner finished in the oven.

It startled you when you heard a key being inserted into your lock but you were reassured when you heard Johnny's voice on the other end. You weren't sure how he managed to talk his way into getting a key to your house so quickly but he had a way of lovingly worming his way into any opening you left. He had nearly convinced you to move in with him just last week before you realized what he was doing and put a stop to it. The man had a golden tongue.

In more ways than one.

You popped up over the couch to say hi when you were met with more than just your boyfriend. Another person stood looming at his back, dwarfing the man who made you feel small. You weren't sure what face you were making as you looked up at them, unsure of what was going on but not immediately worried. Johnny had told you enough stories that you were able to clock the man standing with him almost immediately.

"Love, this is Simon."

Right on the money.

"He's come for dinner. The other two were jealous they were gonna miss out on your cooking but they had prior plans. Just know they'd be here if they could."

What? Why was he making it sound like a hallmark moment? You tilted your chin up for a kiss as he came over to the couch, holding still while he cupped your face and pressed his hungry mouth to yours. You pulled away abashed at the racy kiss in front of company. Putting your hand to Johnny's face when it was clear he was coming in for a second go you addressed them both.

"I didn't realize either of you were coming for dinner." Your voice dropped to a whisper, "Johnny! I'm not even dressed."

"You look perfect love," he assured, looking over your outfit. "Besides, it's only Simon. And I've seen you in less. Much less." He leered at you with a smarmy smile and you couldn't help but laugh. He had a point, and you were decent, just a little rattier than you'd prefer when meeting someone for the first time. Hopefully Simon wouldn't hold it against you.

You climbed off the couch and went to greet your guest before moving to the kitchen, calling out to Johnny to set the table and get drinks ready. You hadn't planned on feeding anyone other than yourself tonight but with a creative side dish or two you had enough to go around. You'd just need to find something else for lunch but that was a problem for tomorrow. For tonight you had people to feed and you wouldn't let them go hungry.

By the time dinner was over you had a new appreciation for your boyfriend's teammate. While not particularly verbose he wasn't shy about making his opinions known. And his opinions seemed to be overwhelmingly positive.

"That was the best meal I've had in ages, dove."

You felt your cheeks heat as you smiled at him, "Thank you, Simon. It's one of my favorite dishes, I'm glad you liked it."

You looked over to see Johnny beaming as he looked back and forth between the two of you, happy as a clam to see you getting along so well. He looked like he was mentally patting himself on the back at the successful dinner. Like he had orchestrated something that was finally coming to fruition. It would be worrying if you didn't know your boyfriends penchant for good naturedly dipping his fingers into things. Nothing to do but wait and see what scheme he was cooking up in his brain.

—

You had piled the last dish into the sink when Johnny came up and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing along your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine at the unexpected touch, goosebumps popping up all along your arms before you relaxed back into him.

He was warm—heat radiating off him in waves as he pulled you to stand in front of him, turned to face him with a smile. He grinned back at you, overjoyed at having your attention.

Raising your arms you looped them around his neck, pressing close as you leaned up for a proper kiss. For all that he had sprung company on you, you were happy to see him and you had missed him today. You'd quickly found that he carved a niche out for himself, wiggling into your psyche like he belonged and conforming it around him. Now when he was gone you were left staring at an empty hole that used to be filled.

Your thoughts were pleasantly scattered, a warm contented haze settled over your mind when you felt another body slide up behind you.

You yanked your head away from Johnny only for the back of it to thud against Simon's shoulder, him penning you in between the two of them. Your felt a little like those sheep you saw in videos, held in place by a machine while they were manipulated to their owners liking. You tilted your head with a frown, trying to push back on him or away from Johnny, whichever would get you a little bit of space.

"What are you doing?"

You froze as one thick arm curled around your waist, big hand spread wide over the pudge of your stomach while the other snaked its way up your torso. He gripped your chin firmly from behind, moving you to face Johnny once more.

"Don't stop now, it was just getting good."

Johnny didn't hesitate for a moment to dive back down and press his lips to yours once more, moaning into your mouth and humping his hips forward subconsciously. You tried to turn your head to catch your breath but Simon kept you still, holding you trapped in the heady spill of Johnny's tongue and lips as they devoured yours.

You were limp by the time he eventually pulled back, a panting mess with spit-slicked lips and blown-out eyes. You looked up at him with your mind reeling until you felt another set of lips making their home on the column of your neck.

You flinched . . . or you tried to. You didn't get far with how Simon was pinning you back against his body. You turned worried eyes up towards Johnny, sure this was about to set him off, maybe start an argument about boundaries and how you were with him, Simon wasn't allowed to swan in and start taking liberties for himself.

Instead what you saw was Johnny's pupils eclipsing his irises as he strove to burn the image into his retinas. Greedy want was present in every line of his face as he watched his teammate kiss along his girlfriend's neck. That look mixed in with the shock of teeth Simon had just introduced caused you to let out a ragged gasp, filling the quiet kitchen air with your sound.

"Fuck LT," Johnny croaked, "Just like that."

"Johnny, what—" your voice wobbled as you squirmed in place—Simon finding every sensitive spot along your neck with ease. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry, lass. When you told me this morning . . . I hadn't realized this was something you were wanting. I didn't see it." He looked contritely down at you, eyes flickering over to where Simon was pressing hot, wet kisses just behind your ear before darting back to yours, "But we're here now. All of us—as a team."

"I don't understand, I never said I wanted thi-IS." You ended on a yelp as the man at your back took the tip of your ear between his teeth and pinched. You swatted back at him, pushing against his forehead as he chuckled. It was almsot mean, like he liked the sound of your squeal.

"Settle down," he smirked, releasing your ear after a moment, holding it long enough to drive home that he was releasing you of his own will. "no need to cause a commotion. Like he said, we're here now."

The to stay was heavily implied by the weight of his words.

Before you knew it Johnny had leaned down once more, taking your mouth in his while Simon made headway on covering every inch of your neck with his teeth and tongue. It was a whirlwind. Groping hands slid under clothing to pull them off while trailing kisses on every new bit of cleared skin as they urged you to the bedroom. By the time you were sprawled back on the center of the mattress you'd been stripped as bare as the day you were born. Limbs akimbo. Chest heaving with gasped breaths. Unsure how you ended up here.

You watched the two men finish removing the last of their clothes before they crawled in with you, bodies pressing a wash of hot skin to yours, causing you to arch into the sensation. Simon took possession of your mouth while Johnny dove headfirst between your legs.

Your gasp at the first long stroke of his tongue along your seam was all the opening Simon needed. Caught between the double sensation of tongues, it was no surprise you quickly became a panting mess. You attempted to keep your hips from hitching but it was a losing battle, your body's instinctive reaction to get closer to the source of euphoria.

Meanwhile Simon had coaxed your tongue into his mouth and was nibbling and sucking on it in turns, your jaw cradled in his wide palm, tilting you exactly as he wanted. When you pulled your tongue back into your own mouth he took that as leave to begin tracing your lips with the point of his, dipping just inside to take sips at your mouth. Acting as if you were something to be savored. Enjoyed.

He reached down to pinch at your nipples, tugging them into hard peaks only to soothe them with his thumb when you complained. The first time you pulled away with a yip he pressed apologizing kisses down your neck and collar, ending at the abused nipple to take it into his mouth. He laved the sensitive flesh, whispering sweet words into your soft skin.

"Sorry, pretty girl, didn't mean to be so rough." Kisses and light nips with his teeth. How were his kisses so good? "We'll start gentle, yeah? Only soft touches for you tonight."

Moving back up to your mouth once more, he held you still while Johnny had you moaning, keeping your mouth fused to his, not letting you pull away for a single breath. You had to suffice yourself with stealing air when you could, an endless battle between your need to breathe and Simon's consuming kisses. You were lightheaded and woozy by the time you were able to properly pull away.

Drinking down greedy gasps of oxygen—anything to stop your swirling head. You looked down your body to see Johnny perched between your thighs, his bright blue eyes visible as he looked up at you from the cradle of your hips, paused to watch the two of you with adoration. You reached a free hand down to grab his hair, holding him in place and grinding your cunt against his mouth. Your fist clenched tightly as he went back to eating with gusto.

It was impossible for you to stay still, continuously squirming and humping your hips up into his face, chasing your high. Simon reached down and pressed a firm hand to your pelvis, pinning you in place.

"Don't you know how to keep our girl still? Do you let her squirm like this whenever I'm not here?" At Johnny's broken protest he scoffed, "Christ, I knew you needed direction, Johnny boy, but I never realized it was this bad."

Johnny muffled his dissenting keen into your wet heat at his words, humping down onto the mattress like he was the one unable to stay still. Simon looked at you and grinned meanly.

"Well, doll? How about it? Does he give you what you need or does he let you walk all over him?"

You were unable to do anything but shake your head in negation, no verbal response forthcoming. Simon turned to look down at Johnny once more.

"Well? Do I need to show you how to do it properly?" He cocked an eyebrow as he looked down his nose when Johnny drew back from your warmth, separating to draw in a few deep breaths, "It doesn't look like you know what you're doing down there." Simon reached down and palmed the back of Johnny's head, pushing him further into your cunt. "Get a good taste. I wanna see drool dripping down your chin by the time you're done. You should have slick up to your ears and she should be drenched down to the bedsheets." He ignored both of your moans, "Didn't realize I'd have to order you around in the bedroom too, just an unruly little pup, aren't you?"

The constant flow of words from his lieutenant only caused Johnny to become more fervored. Licking into you with abandon, he shifted to free one hand, moving up to press two fingers all the way to the knuckles in one fell swoop. Your wetness ensuring he slid in with no difficulties, a smooth glide with only the stretch to betray the insertion.

You couldn't help the moan that slipped out. A great climbing thing that started deep in your chest and worked its way out of your throat with a rumble. It was the work of moments for you to be right on the edge standing at the precipice, looking down onto your first orgasm of the night.

"There we go Johnny, you've got it now. That's just what she needed, huh? Needed a couple of fingers stuck up into her, something to squeeze. We can help her out with that."

Listening to Simon continue to rumble filth into the air and watching him lean down to press his mouth to Johnny's ear, whispering murmured words you couldn't make out was all you needed for that final push.

The heat that had been steadily building coalesced in your lower back and thighs, the visual of the two of them all the spark you needed to set it alight. Your toes curled and your back arched as you tried to get closer to where Johnny was sucking on your clit with pursed lips. A sobbed Johnny! all you were able to verbalize through the onslaught.

Coming back to yourself you were met with Johnny and Simon watching you with avarice, greedy for every expression that crossed your face. You focused on Johnny and saw an absolutely drenched face. He heard what Simon had said about slick from ear to ear and had made sure to accomplish it. Order received and all that. You would be mortified if you didn't feel so good.

You were limp as they moved to rearrange you, Simon sliding in behind your back as Johnny moved to kneel between your thighs, hard cock bobbing in the air. You felt Simon's wet head kissing the small of your back and tried to grind back—give him some sort of satisfaction in this ménage à trois you had happening.

He reached down to snag your hips, stilling you and pressing his mouth directly to your ear, hot air brushing the sensitive skin as he murmured, "None of that now. My turn will be later, we're focusing on Johnny this time."

And focus on Johnny you did. He shuffled himself forward, wasting no time in sinking home into your wet heat. Dual groans punched out of both of your chests as he fully seated himself in one go. You panted—breathing through the stretch as he did the same, trying to stop himself from reaching the finish line prematurely.

Simon didn't wait for you to regain your composure, he held two fingers up to your mouth tapping on your lower lip, "Suck pet," before he dragged them down to your clit, circling the puffy bundle of nerves still sensitive from Johnny's prior ministrations. He picked up a steady rhythm as Johnny gave the first tentative thrust. You couldn't help but clench down, enjoying the hitched moan it pulled out of him.

He recovered quickly and set out to pull those same moans from you, wanting every sound that dripped from your lips. He was relentless in his chase, making sure to use all the tips and tricks he'd picked up over the last couple of months to wring out every iota of satisfaction he could. He leaned forward, pinning Simon's hand between your bodies.

"Tell us how it feels, love," he panted into your mouth, pressing bruising kisses to your lips. "How good is my cock making you feel?"

Try as you might, you couldn't do more than chant his name, a steady stream of Johnny falling from your tongue. He was consuming your every thought, everything bound up in a tangled snarl that was added to with each slick glide of his cock.

Simon pulled his fingers away from your clit but didn't move his hand, keeping it pinned as he reached further down to do something to Johnny. All you were witness to was the way his eyes went wide and unfocused, a little furrow making its appearance on his brow as he paused and pressed into Simon's hand. He let out a sharp yip at whatever Simon was doing before finally moving back, giving the other man room to return to strumming your clit unimpeded.

You were caught between the push and pull of the two of them. Simon resting at your back to whisper lewd words directly into your brain while Johnny made his home inside of you, carving out a space that would always remember him.

It was overwhelming.

You normally turned into a pile of putty with only Johnny's hands on you. Now that there were two of them? You felt like you never knew where the next touch would come from. You would only just find a way to breathe with the circling of your clit for hands to suddenly make their appearance at your nipples. Come to terms with fingers at your nipples just to feel teeth latch onto your neck. They kept you guessing with each movement.

Johnny was doing an admirable job of building you towards your next peak, soft rolls of his hips stroking every sensitive spot inside of you, but apparently it wasn't enough for Simon.

"Hitch her hips up, Johnny. I want you fucking her like you mean it." He stared Johnny down, "If you can't put your back into it then I can relieve you."

"I know how to do it," Johnny sniped back, "Don't forget, I've been in her bed a lot longer than you have." You jolted, unused to having such a harsh tone in your house, let alone in your bed.

Simon saw your jerk and quipped back, "Behave, pup. I won't have you barking and growling around our girl." Simon slid out from behind you, laying you gently back on the pillows with one lingering kiss before coming around to Johnny's side. "Now are you going to listen to what I say or do you need me to step in?"

Johnny chewed on his words, still slowly pumping into you with soft propels of his hips. For a moment you were certain he was going to push back, to dig his feet in and argue with every word that came out of Simon's mouth. Your boyfriend was sweet, but not exactly levelheaded. It surprised you when he came to a decision and listened to what he was being told. You'd have to sneak aside later and get tips and tricks from Simon before he left. Anything to make your life a little easier.

Taking your hips he stuffed a pillow underneath, angling you upwards as he slid back inside. Your matching moans at the new position caused something almost gleeful to cross Simon's expression.

"There we go, I knew you had it in you to mind. You just needed someone bigger to put you in your place, didn't you?"

Johnny had no rebuttal beyond the stuttering of his hips at the comment, swallowing heavily before resuming his rhythm. The steady thwaps filled the humid air of the bedroom, playing background to your whines, Johnny's harsh pants and Simon's filth.

"There we go, just like that," he murmured, voice low and soft, "You're taking it so well sweetheart, is our boy doing a good job for you?"

"Yes," you panted, eager to agree to anything as long as they didn't stop, "So good."

"You hear that Johnny? Said you're doing a good job."

Johnny outright whimpered at the praise, hips stuttering and breath catching in his throat. Simon leaned over Johnny's shoulder and pressed his lips right against his ear. You watched his jaw move as he spoke—voice too low to make out any of the words. Johnny's face was a rictus of pleading pleasure. His expression frozen except for small twitches of his eyebrows, gaze shuttered and staring at your face as he panted. He lasted a few more thrusts before burying himself deeply with a low cry.

Simon laughed scornfully, "Ah poor Johnny boy, did you come already?" He listened to Johnny's overstimulated whine as he grabbed his hips and kept Johnny pushing into you, the wet squelch only proving that he was fucking his spend deeper inside. "Well I don't care if it's too much. You came before our girl, we can't have that." He gave a mean smile, "you're gonna keep fucking her until I tell you to quit."

"I—I can't Simon," Johnny panted, overstimulated nerves causing his muscles to spasm and twitch. "I can't go anymore."

"You want to stop? Then ask me nicely. Go ahead," Simon taunted, a wicked grin curving along his mouth, "Beg."

It was exactly the right wrong thing to say. You watched as Johnny's mouth fell open and his head tilted back, shiny tears springing up along his waterline to spill out from the corners as you felt another warm wave of heat inside. His second orgasm seemed to wring every bit out of him—his face locked in a pained grimace.

He tried to jerk backwards, tried to pull his hips from yours but Simon wasn't having it. He dug his fingers tightly into your hips, arms wrapped around either side of Johnny's waist and pressed firmly against his back, pinning Johnny between the two of you and not giving the whimpering man an inch of space.

"I told you, you're not done until she comes." Using his own hips he helped propel Johnny into you, helping you move to grind on Johnny's dick at the end of each thrust. "You know what you need to do to finish this."

"Please," the other man burst out, unable and willing to withhold any longer, "Please, Simon, need your help. Need you to help me." Tears continued rolling down his cheeks.

"That's all I needed, sweet boy."

Moving one of his hands he dropped his thumb onto your clit after swiping up along your slit, pausing to tease right beneath the head of Johnny's cock on a pullback just to hear him whimper again. With the slick pressure rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves combined with the relentless fucking and stunning visual you were falling apart within moments.

Light burst behind your eyes and your ears started ringing. You knew you were clenching tightly around Johnny's cock but you were unable to spare the thought to see what he looked like as you came. You fell back into your body as the sensations died down, literally falling back onto the bed where you had been arched so sharply only your shoulders were still touching.

As you became aware of your surroundings you watched Simon allow Johnny to pull back, both of you whining at the sensation of him pulling out completely. He flopped to one side of the bed while his chest heaved like bellows, a ruddy flush covering his face and chest. Shiny sweat lined his brow, glistening in the dim evening light.

You didn't have time to rest or take in your boyfriend for long before you were grabbed by the hips, Simon's fingers digging into your plush sides as he pulled you into a position he liked.

Your legs were thrown over his forearms before you realized it, feet dangling in the air and hands coming up to grasp onto his shoulders. As he leaned forward you acutely realized how powerless you were, pinned completely beneath his bulk, no leverage to be seen to get you out.

You looked at him with wide eyes, your own heaving chest causing your pebbled nipples to brush up against his torso, teasing little flicks of sensation to add to everything running through your body.

He notched himself at your entrance with a groan, swiping back and forth, coating the head in your wetness. Finding an angle he liked, he began pushing in.

You whimpered at the burn as he stretched you, even still after Johnny had just had you. You shuddered thinking about taking him without being stretched first, likely a harrowing undertaking. He continued rocking back and forth with small thrusts, each one inching deeper and deeper. Each withdraw causing more of both yours and Johnny's come to escape.

"I know it's a lot, but you can take it. All the way in, all the way to the back, sweetheart."

It knocked the breath out of your lungs when he seated himself inside. A heavy weight felt through your pelvis as his length pried apart muscle to make room for itself. You were afraid you'd feel him inside for the rest of your life. Another gaping chasm when he wasn't there.

It took him the space of a few heartbeats to get situated before he began to move with rhythm, a strong, steady roll of his hips knocking you up the bed with each drive.

Whatever remaining thoughts you might have had spilled out your ears. Nothing able to penetrate the fog he was putting you in with his movements. Your brain became a haze—no worries, no fears—nothing but the feelings he was stoking inside you.

Each time he slid in full you felt him kiss your cervix at the back of your channel. The quick pinch only increasing the pleasure you felt. The mix of the two giving gradients that weren't usually seen, hues bursting behind your eyelids at the sensation.

Proportionately large, he touched every soft spot inside of you simultaneously, a constant wave of endorphins flooding your brain and leaving you a gibbering mess. You clawed at him looking for purchase but unable to find any, inescapably swept away in his tide.

How did you end up here? Under the body of your boyfriends best friend. Because he was his best friend, no matter that Simon would never verbalize it. They were two sides of a coin—better together.

You let your head flop to the side, looking at Johnny passed out and half hanging off the bed on the far side, snuffling breaths a steady back-drone to the slap of skin on skin from you and Simon. You were out of your mind with pleasure, brain unable to spark two neurons together to come up with a thought. It was all white noise to you, unable to focus on anything other than the sensations Simon was drawing from your body.

That was why it was so jarring when two more bodies made their presence known standing beside you on the bed, wide shoulders blocking out the light leaving them draped in shadows.

You let out a huff of a startled scream, no breath in your lungs to get proper volume when hands came up to tweak your nipple and tuck your hair back from your sweaty forehead.

Simon gave a rumbling groan as all your muscles clenched and you bucked up in fear, tossing your head to try and get them off of you. You started to whimper and bat haphazardly at their hands trying to pull yourself away from Simon at the same time but the grip he had on your hips didn't allow you to go anywhere.

"Shh," he gentled, "you're okay, nothing here's gonna hurt you, sweet girl." He never slowed his thrusts, "It's just the rest of the team. That's Gaz and that's the captain." Bone-jarring thuds as his pelvis met the fat of your backside, sharp slap slap slaps echoing through the room.

"What?" you stammered, "I—I thought that—"

"Didn't think we'd let anything happen to you, did you?" he asked with furrowed brows, "Let something happen to our girl?" he scoffed in amusement. "Try again."

Oh. That's—that wasn't—you weren't—

But you couldn't verbalize any of your thoughts. You'd thought you'd been at the end of your stamina before but these two men brought fresh energy to the bedroom. Looking at both of them you recognized Kyle and John from all of Johnny's stories.

"Have you been taking good care of our girl, Simon?"

"Yes sir, Johnny gave her two and I'm working towards a third."

"Good man."

With the team complete the dynamic subtly changed. Where before it had been Simon giving the orders, he now defaulted to his captain, happy to let him take the lead as he directed Kyle and Simon to his own beat.

It was the work of minutes for John and Kyle to strip each other and climb into the crowded bed to join you.

You were too fucked out to muster any proper response so you let them move you as they pleased, content to be a doll placed into the perfect position.

Kyle moved to cuddle up to you up near your face, the cut of his abs all you could focus on for a second before you dragged your gaze up to his face. He smiled down at you charmingly, perched up on an elbow to hover over you, ensuring he was all you could see for a moment.

"We've heard so much about you," he murmured, holding his smile while looking gorgeous enough to stop your heart. "I can't believe we're finally all here together."

Heard so much about you? What had Johnny been telling them? What had he been sharing about your personal life to his team that they thought this was normal? You didn't get a chance for the thoughts to make more than a fleeting impression before they were gone again—the finger on your clit requiring your full attention.

You looked down past Kyle to see John with a hand between your thighs, stroking at the bud before dipping down to gather the wetness that was still being pulled out of you by Simon who hadn't paused. He ran his fingers along where you two joined, dampening his fingertips before resuming his stroking. You couldn't keep still at the sensation, legs jerking and jumping as your nervous system tried to make heads or tails of what was happening to it.

He made short work of coaxing you back into another orgasm, sparks lighting up behind your eyelids as you convulsed, squeezing Simon between your legs and gripping the hand that Kyle had threaded through yours for dear life. Your hips stuttered in their movement, caught between chasing the last sparks of pleasure and pulling away from the steadily overwhelming sensations John was easing out.

It was a relief when he pulled away, letting you begin making headway in catching your breath once more. You watched him reach up with his slick hand to clasp Simon by the back of the neck.

"All right, my boy, now for you."

Simon took this as all the permission he needed to chase his own end with a vengeance. He rutted into you with no finesse, using you for his own gratification as he allowed himself the orgasm he had been denying. It took no time at all before he sunk as deeply as possible, holding there as he emptied himself into you. You felt the heat of him filling you, his cock acting like a stopper keeping it all tucked tight and high inside your channel.

When he eventually pulled back a wave of fluid came with him, dripping down to the bed and coating your thighs. You couldn't do more than gasp—still working on catching your breath. Your head flopped over to look at Kyle, holding your hand clenched in his. He smiled at you and came in for a kiss.

At this point you didn't even think of turning your head away. You simply laid there and let him into your mouth, this man who you technically hadn't even met but who you felt like you'd known for years. All of Johnny's stories doing a wonderful job of painting these three men in such a way you were sure you'd met them a hundred times before.

Kyle's kiss was all consuming. He masterfully played with your lips and tongue, keeping you chasing him while he devoured you. It was wet and obscene and so, so good. He tasted faintly of peppermint, remnants of gum or a mint he had chewed earlier. It had you searching the corners of his mouth, looking for his flavor.

He smiled into the kiss before pressing two quick pecks to your lips and pulling back, giving you space to think. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been fucked six ways from Sunday," you managed, cueing a round of laughter from the three men. By now you'd caught your breath and were watching them with wide eyes, waiting to see what they'd do next. Simon had moved to sit over next to Johnny as John patted at your hip.

"Do you think you have one more in you or are you calling it?" he asked, looking unbothered by what your answer might be. Like he knew this wasn't the only time he'd have you in this position and being lenient was no trouble.

You nodded your head firmly, "I can keep going."

"Atta girl."

You felt your face heat at those words as your gaze darted away, embarrassed at how much you liked it. Even while you were spread out bare for them to view this felt like a peek behind the curtain, a glimpse of something too personal to make light of. You had a feeling you could climax from him whispering those words in your ear with his deep rumble at just the right time.

Without a doubt John realized what effect his words had on you if his amused grin was any indication. Thankfully he let it be, not calling attention to your expression. You didn't know he was shelving the thought until later; he had no intention of not pursuing the lead.

Helping you up he turned you so you were on your hands and knees facing Kyle with John's heat radiating into the back of your thighs. He checked in with an Okay, sweetheart? which you reassured him on before he pressed close as Kyle shuffled forward. Slotting his hips into yours he dragged his leaking cock through the mess between your thighs, the damp head bumping against your clit in a tease with each thrust.

"We've heard a lot about you," John noted, trailing a hand along your spine, enjoying the feel of smooth, soft skin. "Soap has practically talked our ears off since you met. Along with how amazing you are, he makes sure to tell us how pretty you are and how nice you smell." You felt him leaning over you and pressing his nose to the crown of your head, "I've gotta say, he was right on all accounts."

A shudder worked its way down your spine at the praise.

Pulling back, he lined himself up with your opening and slid inside in one smooth stroke. As your mouth dropped open to moan Kyle tapped the tip of your tongue with his cock, encouraging you to stick it out for him. He pressed inside when you did and you groaned deep in your throat at his flavor, salt and musk invading your nose as he cupped your head gently between his two palms, holding you steady.

You thought you had been done before, no longer able to continue, to ride the wave of ecstasy any more. They proved you wrong with their wandering hands tweaking nipples and strumming your clit.

It felt like it had been years and minutes both as they bounced you between the two of them. You would grow accustomed to the shape of Kyle in your throat only for John to pull you back, rearranging your organs with the strength of his thrusts.

You didn't know which way was up, your only concern was timing your breaths to Kyle's thrusts, keeping your teeth tucked away from any sensitive skin. Hollowing your cheeks you fought to keep suction, John doing his level best to ensure you couldn't find a comfortable rhythm.

The whole time you were spinning tighter and tighter. A wave building down deep behind your bellybutton, fed with each thrust from the two men. Your body welcoming them in.

The wave continued to build, higher and higher. Larger than you'd ever thought possible. It was awe-inspiring and terrifying in equal measures.

What was going to become of you when it crashed? Were you going to be able to be put back together or would you be destined to live out your life as shattered remains, always thinking back to the last night you'd been whole, the last night you hadn't needed others to hold you together like Kintsugi.

John continued thrusting behind you, never stopping, never faltering. He was relentless and driven and you were the finish line he had set his eyes on. You were the end goal that he would see through, come hell or high water.

It sparked something dark deep within your psyche. Something decadent.

Your last climax of the night rolled over you. Starting down low in your abdomen it grew and grew, fed into by each of the men that you had let into your bed tonight. It became too large to ignore, this gaping maw of want that was flooding your blood and your brain, changing your chemical makeup in its wake. You were pretty sure you screamed.

Both of their pants came harshly now as they fought for some semblance of control beyond the tight clutch of your cunt and throat.

John finished next, stamina no match for the silken glide of your cunt, sucking the oxygen from his blood with each press inside of you. But Kyle was shortly behind him. If you didn't know any better you'd say the sight and sound of his captain coming is what pushed him over the edge.

Certainly something to think about later.

It's comforting hands that helped you lay down once you were done, tucked between Simon and Kyle, Johnny still passed out with his foot and arm draped off the side. You were curled into Kyle's chest as you watched John pull on a pair of boxers.

"I'll go get us some water and towels, you all stay put."

You were far to exhausted to think of the ramifications of what had happened here tonight. Instead you were content to curl into warm skin and enjoy the feeling of Simon's arm thrown around your waist.

When John came back with the water you had a moment of laughter when you realized the bed was packed full with the four of you currently and there wasn't a spare inch for John to lay down. Instead he went to sit at the foot, tapping Kyle's feet so he would curl his legs up a bit.

"Anybody broken?" He asked, staring at you while he spoke. It was clear he expected you to be the one to voice any discontent.

"Nope," you yawned, crashing hard now that you were laying still, "right as rain."

"Good. We'll talk this all over in the morning sweetheart. For now, sleep."

Kyle kissed your forehead while Simon curled around you tighter. Tomorrow. You could figure it all out tomorrow. That sounded like a wonderful plan considering you were already drifting away to the soft sounds of breathing.

Next

[belovedcloud]

One Bed

pairing: leon kennedy x fem! agent! reader

✎ synopsis: who knew saving the president's daughter was so tiring? only you and leon knew the treacherous steps towards the hotel room that was supposed to rejuvenate you both. only for him to open the door and to see one bed.

✎ notes: omg hey everyone. it has been months since my last post and thank you so much for the love on 'such a sweetheart'. i needed a hiatus from writing and i hope you guys love this one bed trope! it's not proofread so sorry if there are mistakes but i am way too lazy to read over it all. love you guys.

➤ WC: 5K

➤ CW: you helped leon save ashley, one bed trope duh, touch starved leon, kisses, petnames, cowgirl, tired sex, p in v, unprotected sex, leon cums on you.

Who knew saving the president's daughter would be so exhausting? The whole ordeal was strenuous to your muscles and mental state. A good nights rest was what you needed after the catastrophe you just encountered. Luckily, you were able to squeeze a shower before getting to the hotel. The idea of mud, bodily fluids and blood was too much to handle for any longer than necessary. Though, if it wasn't for Leon - you probably wouldn't be around currently. Being mission partners with him allowed you to understand his perspective on bioweapons and whatnot.

Without a doubt, he hated them. Despised even. This was a common viewpoint, but his hate went far beyond the normal eye.

It was best not to pry. You couldn't class yourselves as friends, just work partners. Agents who fought the living dead and anything else that came in your way. The undead was a sensitive topic to Leon. What could he have went through?

Leon's life was one of pure terror ever since he was victimised to Raccoon City. The first day on the job completely different to others who joined for the first time. Unlocking padlocks were for survival, not for fun. Reading notes left from other officers who already found their fate was disturbing. The scribbles on the paper led him out. To safety he had hoped. No. Safety was not an option that day - his welfare was tarnished every second.

Now being forced into the workforce of the government wasn't any better. Probably even worse. Time and time again Leon would feel the cold metal pressed against his temple, shakily holding the gun to his head. The index finger aching to snap the trigger to blast his brains out. Yet the same reasoning withheld him from doing so. What if another incident like Raccoon City happened in the near future? He was hired to help others - to dispose of the horrors of the world without alarming the population.

Having you as his partner was a struggle and a blessing.

His communicative state from when he was 21 was now gone. A rookie turned agent against his will led him to be colder than others. Leon kept to himself most of the time, here and there giving you a few pointers on how you can effective pop a flash grenade or what to do in a sticky situation. You reflected how he was 6 years ago. A 21 year old who was excited to start at a police department - you were an agent who was motivated to save others. Your actions held such kindness to him. No prying or none of those snickering comments he would get from the other agents at base.

Just peace.

So mentally speaking, he didn't mind having to share a room with you in this crammed hotel. It was a Saturday so it was expected. Though, other patrons would be coming here to have a one night stand or a relaxing time away from their family... you both just needed rest.

Sluggish movements paved their way to the door number, 012. You and him clinging onto your duffel bags silently. It was an awkward silence, a silence that hung below you both as he fumbled with the key card in his hand. Scanning it through to unlock the barrier between you both and the comfort of the beds that laid inside.

Beds. Or... bed?

Your eyes scan the room. Continuously trying to seek out the other bed that should be here. You examine the footing of it, seeing that it's a double bed instead of 2 singles. Great. The dumbfounded look on your face is almost laughable as the situation dawns on you. You were in a room with Leon and it only consisted of one bed for the both of you.

There were a few ways to go about this. You either both sleep in the same bed together or one takes the bed and the other finds another place to rest. Looking around, it appears that the only viable option would be the cracked leather arm chair, resting solo in the corner. Thinking about it, you were willing to give yourself a crick in your neck to save yourself from the embarrassment of sharing the bed with the other agent.

Leon thought otherwise. The brisk movement of the gear belt slung over the armchair with his duffel bag smacked down in the centre. He was tired, over the bullshit that he just fought - he couldn't care less if he had to share a bed.

"Looks like they forgot a bed huh?" He joked sarcastically, stretching his limbs. The strain of his muscles was visible, undoubtably attractive. Leon carried himself enchantingly, you wanted to learn more about him as every second passed. A sigh leaves his throat whilst he sat down on the bed, continuously stretching. The shirt riding up slightly, giving you a chance to avert your eyes to the uncovered skin. His v-line was on show, the dip down soon stopped by the fabric of his cargos. The shirt he was wearing was a tight fit, letting the muscles of his biceps become visible to the naked eye and the shape of his pecs becoming more noticeable the more you looked.

At least you had a bed in the room? That was the only positive you could find from this when removing your gear off your body. Slinging it into the corner of the room alongside your bag. You both are exhausted from the long day, so you were thankful there's at least a bed to share.

"I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick..." His movements are swift, already gripping onto his shirt he reveals his back to you - throwing the shirt on the floor beforehand. Multiple scars are littered faintly around the skin but the more distinguishable thing is his muscles. Leon's toned body calls out to you as his shoulder to waist ratio is insane. A slim waist, broad shoulders, it all speaks to you. You can feel your body speaking back as you look at him a little longer than expected.

Your little fangirling sesh is over when he shuts the bathroom door behind him - you let a breath you didn't know you withheld. Well, all you could do was wait for him to finish his shower before you could have one. The pitter patter of the water hitting the shower floor is heard before it dies down - giving you a mental note that Leon was now cleaning himself. Why are you even thinking about this?

Leon lets out a sigh once the hot water hits his body. An instant relieving feeling flowing through him as he just stands there for a minute. Soaking in the greatness of water before grabbing the washcloth and shower gel nicely provided by the hotel staff. Squeezing the bottle, a dollop of soap smothers the cloth before he runs it across his body.

Humming can be heard whilst he cleanses his body, ensuring to dispose of all the sweat and dirt from their recent mission. Reflecting back on the situation, he started to feel a bit nervous having to share a bed with you tonight. You were pretty, very pretty to him. He mentally scolded himself whilst he ran the cloth down his chest - his mind returning back to you. A soft moan elicited out of his lips made his hand smack his face. Leon wasn't sure why he was feeling this way. Instinctive movements of him washing himself in motion, his fingers manoeuvring the washcloth on autopilot as his mind focused on you. He can't help but think about you some more, remembering your cute smile when you would hand him a cup of coffee at base. Or your simple gestures of making sure he was comfortable and how you reserved yourself around him made his heart skip a beat.

It had been a while since he thought about someone romantically, his job stripping him of any personal life as the thought of the multitude of viruses around the world was increasing each day. But now, deep down... he could feel an attraction to you. Leon wasn't sure if it was sexual or genuine love - it would be too soon to tell. However, this feeling was deep rooted within, his mind wanted to show you love. His heart longing for someone.

A sentiment he had not felt in a while.

Trying to calm his heart down from going into cardiac arrest, giving himself a mental pep talk - trying not to think about you too much. He shuts off the water soon after and grabs the white towel neatly folded on top of the counter cabinet. Rubbing himself dry and wrapping it around his waist - tightening it slightly. He doesn't want an accident to happen.

Your mind shuts off as you hear footsteps in the bathroom. He was out. Okay. Do you look away when he opens the door? Leon doesn't give you time to think as the door creaks open, revealing himself into the main room. His bare chest and hair still damp for show. Jesus Christ. His damped skin looks good in the dim light, as if he had displayed himself just for you. He notices you sitting tensely on the bed, his body approached you. Blue eyes instantly drifting to your body and lingering for a second before he snaps out of it.

"I needed that..." He groans out, sitting beside you. You mentally slap yourself as you snap your thoughts back to the present.

"Yeah I bet, I already had a shower before we got here so I'm alright." Your response is meek, but at least you had something to respond with.

The man next to you raises his eyebrows at you in slight surprise, he wasn't expecting you to have already taken a shower - but by the look of it, you did look super clean compared to him before. Perhaps you had it when he was getting questioned at base for the report of the mission. Leon tries to keep his eyes focused on your face and not your body. "Oh lucky you," he replied with a smirk.

"I couldn't stand all the random liquids on me, it was disgusting." A chuckle leaves you when you remember looking at yourself in the mirror. Gross... but at least you could laugh at yourself for getting in such a mess? "You were subjected to most of the mess to be honest." Leon chortled out, reminiscing on your reaction when you had novistador blood all over you.

Your conversation with him was cut short when you both recalled the situation laid opened to the two of you. One bed, two agents. It seemed childish that you couldn't think the both of you could share a bed - it was just awkward. Really awkward.

"I can take the floor if you want?" The sound of your voice cuts through the silence, Leon replayed the question in his head before shaking his head. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm not letting you sleep on this cold ass floor." His eyes averted to the hardwood floor, indicating that your question was out of order.

"You want to share the bed then?" This question to Leon was better, he really didn't mind another person next to him whilst he slept. Recalling past moments, he's slept through worse. "We're both adults here. We can share the bed, it won't be bad." A calm response from the agent. What more could you expect?

Your reluctant nod allows him to get back up to look through the wardrobe in the hotel room. A couple extra blankets stored alongside some pyjamas that the workforce provided for both of you. You two were granted a pair of sweatpants and black top - your eyes brightened up, realising you weren't having to sleep in fresh gear wear.

"I'll go in the bathroom to change, you can change here." An authoritative tone left him, not giving you a chance to speak back before he returned back into the bathroom. Scurrying over to the open wardrobe, you hand picked your pyjamas - undressing yourself from the imprisonment of your current clothes to something a lot more baggy and comfortable. A sigh let loose from you, your body mindlessly walking over to the bed and plopping down on the edge. The mattress aiding in soothing your back from the hellish ride you attuned escaping the island.

A yawn seeped through your lips, hazily looking at your phone screen at the time, 01:24... It really was time to rest. Though, the thought of Leon couldn't leave your mind. He plagued your brain - a part of you didn't complain.

A sound of a door creaking open embarked into your ears, Leon had changed into his nightclothes. The tank top fit snugly on his body however, the pair of sweatpants seemed a little baggy. Clearly a little too big for him since they were hanging dangerously low on his hips. He was plain exhausted. His limbs gradually moved him to the bed that you two were about to share. Sinking his body into the mattress as the sheets hugged his frame.

Minutes passed, a silence rose in the room. Leon's back laid restfully whilst scrolling through countless media apps to pass the time. His mind wandering back to you. The heat emanating his body contradicted with the cold expression on his face. Why was he so hard to read? You couldn't tell if he was even comfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with you. Your body laid on it's side, staring at him brazenly. Forgetting that your eyes were peering at his body, Leon's gaze averted to you - an eyebrow raised on his face.

"You alright?" His question caught you off guard; no you weren't okay. Not when he was so close to you, the faint smell of him seeping into your senses. You genuinely couldn't be okay in this situation.

"Mhm, m'alright. Just tired." Leon's eyes glanced at you and his eyes shamelessly roamed over your body before he forced himself to look back down at the device in his hand. 'What the hell are you doing?' The question rung in his mind over and over again as he thought about you. There was no denying the fact that he found you incredibly attractive - but for you to be his work partner... It was unprofessional for such thoughts to occur in his mind. Shakily putting down the phone in his grasp he spoke. "You should get some rest, it's getting late."

Like rest was an option. Turning your head towards him, a twinge of irritation was mixed in with your voice. "I know, it's just.. it's hard to sleep right now." The idea of you and him so close was making your head foggy, especially now since he rolled onto his side - discarding his phone on the bedside table. He now faced you, noticing the tone of your voice. Was there something bothering you?

"Why's it hard?" It was starting to click in Leon's head that them sharing a bed may have made you nervous. Scared perhaps. Analysing your expression, he was observant in your body language. A hint of worry trespassed his vision whilst he watched you silently - waiting for you to continue. His head in his hand, inaudibly taking notice of how pretty you look. Completely captivated from your features, he shook his head to clear his mind.

"We're sharing a bed, now I know there's nothing between us but it's just... weird? No offence! Like you're not weird you know that I just-" Realising you were rambling, a heavy sigh left your lips. It was hard trying to compose yourself, particularly because Leon was looking at you. He didn't look confused nor grossed out.. just enamoured. Lovesick eyes boring into yours when he heard you ramble for a moment.

A slight chuckle was brought out from him when you mentioned the closeness between the two of you, a small idea crossed his mind about how your body was mere inches away from his. He swallowed before speaking. "None taken, I get it. Sharing a bed can be kinda intimate huh?" He found it rather cute that you were so antsy. "But I'm glad we have a bed..."

Leon was right, you convinced yourself nothing was weird - staring at the cream coloured ceiling. A light huff was let out of Leon's nose. "Just try and relax," he mumbled, unsure on how to comfort you. Watching you snuggle under the covers, a slight smile spread across his face.

"Cute."

Leon surprised himself that he mumbled it out loud, his body tensing from the fear that reigned his body. Mentally face palming himself, rapidly looking away from you. Reprimanding himself for being so stupid to let it slip out.

After a moment, a lower voice was heard from him. "I mean- Ugh, sorry I didn't mean to make this so awkward." Shifting himself further from you, feeling ashamed of himself - you stop him from almost falling off the bed. "No no, it's fine!" Your efforts of comforting him didn't help him as it was clear he was still embarrassed. Leon's mind kept recalling the scene, shouldered with how attractive you were.

"I meant it." He stated. Leon had no clue where this confidence in him was coming from, but he hoped it wouldn't run out any time soon. The look on your face made him feel less nervous. A shocked expression plastered all over you - stuttering not knowing what to say. He found you to be the prettiest woman he had ever seen, the kindest too. Looking back at it all, he registered all along he had a little thing for you. You respected him, valued his need for privacy and want to be unjudged. Not many knew of his situation and Leon's involvement in Raccoon City. You didn't even know, you never pried.

Shamelessly, a fat smile shone on your face. Leon's expression softened as he found himself in awe. His body itched, craving your touch. Your love. This renowned love blossomed within him.

"You're cute too." That one sentence could make his heart stop if he really went into deep thought about it. Leon never really found himself to be that attractive, yeah his muscles were good in some aspect in his eyes. He did train well, he gave himself that. After all, he was the one many depended on to save the abundance of sick problems this once calm world faced.

Another silence was shared between the two of you - not one of awkwardness but one of solace. Leon didn't feel distressed, he felt calm. You brought out a side of him which he believed was gone. The side being the young man who wasn't scared of the future. A time where he was happy within himself and oblivious. All he could picture was you. You and him happily being each other's bridge.

Each other's home.

"I'm glad we got that out of the way." A breathless voice cut you both out of your trances. Leon flickering his view on you. Your face, those beautiful eyes staring into his own. The soft lips of yours calling out to him. Your bare neck, a blank canvas for his kisses and bites. His eyes then averted to the base of your neck, your chest covered by the black shirt you wore. Feeling his stare, the burning sensation in your cheeks rose. "What... what now?" The scary question was imprinted in your mind. It was obvious you both had a thing for each other, yet what were you going to do about it? Perhaps a relationship could happen between the both of you; would you both just stay work partners?

"Can I.. can I hold you?" Vulnerability was present in Leon's voice. He craved to touch your skin, his fingers twitching slightly from the excitement. Touch starved. That was the true definition of Leon's love life right now. He hadn't involved himself in relationship matters for years and now that the chance popped up with you, he would take what he could get.

You didn't even say yes, your body spoke for you. Wrapping your arms around his chest - you could feel his heartbeat. Rapid pumps thudded into your ear. Strong arms hugged you back clearly stating silently that Leon couldn't let you go. You'd be surprised if his shirt didn't have an imprint of your face since you were so close against him. Breaking free slightly, your head popped up - looking up at him. You were presented with his Adam's apple, slowly bobbing up and down as he swallowed looking down at you. The rough bump alluring you in whilst your hazy eyes lingered on the skin of his neck. Moles sparsely speckled all over his skin. God had crafted Leon himself, you were sure of it.

Moreover, the heat from his body lingered around you. Creating an invisible fortress of affection and love as both of you stared at each other.

A shaky hand pressed against the skin of your cheek, calloused pads caressing you. "You're so pretty." Leon mumbled, shifting a bit. Your touch to him granted him a sense of warmth, he even leaned into it a little - subconsciously seeking comfort. You brought out the 'weak' side of him, it felt nice for him to let down his guard and be himself around you. He let out a pleased hum as he cuddled you, the hold over you was tight. To you, it seemed like he was starved for physical contact and was finally getting the human touch he deserved.

What happened next was a blur, to both of you anyway. The stare-off between his blue eyes and your own turned into your faces being so close together; guaranteed to kiss. An eskimo kiss shared with him, the tips of both your noses touching. Lips hovering over his, your whisper snaps him out of his daze. "Thank you..." Your gratitude granted you a chuckle from Leon but his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

Leon continued to stare at you but to pinpoint, he was eying at your lips. They looked so soft, the mere sight of them making his heart race more. He swallowed hard, his mind clouded with the vision of kissing you. An overwhelming sense of desire passing through him - it was need. But at the same time, he knew he couldn't just go in for a kiss; not without consent. Yet he craved to feel his lips against yours.

"Can I kiss you?" His mumbled whisper echoed through your ears. Were you hearing him correctly?

Kiss? You?

Besides, it's not like you were going to straight out reject him. That wasn't even possible in this situation with him; pressed so close against you that you could feel his rock hard boner pressing against your thigh. A nimble nod from you responding to his question was all he needed.

Leon's lips are soft, softer than you would expect. Sweet little kisses are shared, melting you into him. His hands now run down your back, rubbing your skin through the cotton shirt. He hums, tilting your head slightly back to get a better angle. It feels messy as saliva is shared between the two of you. A soft whine escaping you when Leon breaks away. Reining you back in, he gives you another kiss. Pure passion and love interweaved in it.

Kisses soon turn into touches as your fingers manoeuvre around his torso, slowly digging your fingers into him - eliciting a groan out his mouth. His touch on you becomes possessive, kneading your skin in his hands. Leon holds you close and after a few minutes, you find yourself on his lap. His hands automatically went to your hips, gripping you tight as his eyes locked onto yours. Those blue eyes of his roamed your body shamelessly whilst he held you against him, taking in the view of your straddling his hips.

You could feel the hard-on beneath you, begging for some friction. Subconsciously, your hips start to rock slightly, Leon takes full control as he guides you. There was no way he could stop right now, not with how his body was aching so badly and having you on his lap like this. "Can we take this slow? We're both... really tired." A yawn escapes you mid sentence, you can feel yourself getting tired and wet.

"Yeah, we can take this slow. Anything you want love." The nickname shoots desire right into your veins, the rasp in his voice concocted with a tired sigh as he watches you grind on him is heavenly. Shuddering from his touch, Leon brings you down to lay on him - adjusting you on his lap. Your foreheads touch, all you can see is love in his eyes. Leon's fingers tug on your shirt, a breathless chuckle leaving him before he asks the question. "Can I take this off?" He can't help but want to see you, feel you - caress the smoothness of your skin on the pads of his fingers. Hearing you say the word "yes" made his hands work in a fast fashion as your torso was soon left bare.

"So beautiful..." He sat you back up, feeling your flesh mould in-between his fingers. Leon ached for you, he wanted to have more energy to give you the proper fucking you deserved. However, the past mission and the strain it had on both of your bodies exempted him from treating you the way he wanted. So he had to settle for soft, gentle sex. Just like you wanted.

Rapid breathing contradicted the mellow touches shared between you both, your hips continuously rocking slowly before he lifts you up slightly - removing the same sweatpants that were already dangerously low. You're face to face with his boxers, a clear wet patch showcasing the pre-cum that leaked out of his tip.

"See what you do to me?" Leon groaned out, palming himself slowly - your eyes following his every movement. He was enchanting nonetheless, alluring you in with every pump he did to himself. Leon's mind was fogged with you, the view of you turning every cell in his brain insane. He seriously couldn't get enough of your watchful eyes scanning his hand; viewing the pornographic sight in front of you.

Although once again he did think to make this the best sex he's had in a while, it was obvious you both were too tired to even do anything remotely crazy that night. So plain ole cowgirl it is.

Quick work was made for your sweatpants as they were easily tossed to the floor, your panties being the the second piece of protection between you and Leon's boxers straining his dick in place. His hands guided you still, the subtle movements rocking back on forth bringing both of you a sense of release you both needed. Silken kisses bringing out a wave of passion. Playing with the band of his boxers - a dark look appeared in his gaze.

"Impatient?" The mere one word question could've left you astonished if you weren't so hazy from being aroused. Of course you were impatient. He was the embodiment of seduction. "Well, yeah." A laugh escaped both Leon and you, your eyes boring into his.

"Shouldn't keep you waiting should I?"

Sliding your panties to the side; pulling his boxers down, it was easy for his cock to slide in. Eliciting a deep moan from the both of you as kisses were shared once again. Leon couldn't believe how good you felt, he already felt pussy drunk. The two of you shared tired eyes and low whimpers whilst your hips rocked back and forth.

"You're so pretty..." Leon mumbled out, dazed out of his mind looking at how your body synchronised with his. The way his dick was slipping in and out of you, pressing into that sweet spot of yours. How were you so pretty? And how did you already make such a mess? Glancing down, his eyes followed to the feeling of wetness coating the base of his cock - your inner thighs glistening from how wet you were. Completely mesmerised, Leon looked up at you with pure love and lust.

You couldn't talk, not when all your throat could conjure was the moans and low screams as his hips started to jerk up slightly - thrusting himself further in you. Holding onto the bedframe keeping you both afloat, your mumbles tried to alert him from the upcoming orgasm reaching you. "Mmph... L-Leon, I..." was all you could muster. It was the only coherent thing he could understand before feeling you tighten up.

"That's it baby, keep going." The softness in his voice juxtaposed the way his hips were snapping up and down, Leon couldn't help it. Your pussy felt too good wrapped around him. He had to put in the last of his energy to making you feel good at least. Lazily, his hand slowly reached your clothed clit - his fingers slowly rubbing the fabric of your panties. The perfect amount of friction to make your bundle of nerves become overstimulated whilst being stuffed full.

Your tired eyes locked with his, feeling yourself getting closer to seventh heaven. A small smirk plastered on Leon's face, watching you breathlessly whilst his dick twitched too.

"Gotta pull out..." He murmured, his fingers making you reach the pinnacle of your orgasm. "L-Leon!" All you could do was shudder on-top of him, feeling the remaining energy in you seep out alongside your orgasm. Collapsing onto him, Leon subtly slipped himself out, painting your clit and lower stomach with his cum. A low hum leaving him as he kissed the nape of your neck. "You did so well."

Panting heavily, your moan responded to his words. Chuckling to himself, Leon held you close whilst sitting up. Grabbing a few tissues in the box to wipe your tummy.

"Come on, let's get cleaned up."

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)

-> masterlist

[ikeuverse]

dual life | sjy

pairing: mafiaboss!jake x fem!reader  genres: smut, angst, slight fluff wc: 10.8k+

꒰ 𝅄 warnings ꒱ : swearing, mention of drugs and illicit things, mafia stuff, jake implicitly jealous, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple sucking, unprotected sex (do it safely, please). lmk if i missed anything else.

꒰ 𝅄 synopsis ꒱ : being a serious and respected businessman was the only side of him that jaeyun wanted you to know, afraid that he would let you into his life and, over time, you would get to know not only sim jaeyun, but also sim jake, the mafia boss.

꒰ 𝅄 notes ꒱ : idk how, but i thought about it for a day and just wrote it down. i let my mind run wild and wanted something completely different for jake, so here it is. i hope you like it!

꒰ 𝅄 part 2 | masterlist ꒱

The corporate environment could be challenging and misogynistic when a woman holds a position of great power. At first, the fear hit you hard when your name was molded onto a plaque and, below it, the title of the boss was stamped. But alongside all this, you found yourself supported by your colleague and partner Sim Jaeyun. The first man who saw you with respect, who treated you like a boss and a partner, who handed you demands with the same intensity as he handed demands to other men in the company.

He was incredible when he signed the contract to share that company with you. And it was a good deal because once your name was linked to Jaeyun's, everything inside that building seemed to be moving perfectly toward success. Numbers and shares grew faster and faster, and meetings were shared late into the night where you and Jaeyun reviewed what you had done so far, whether you needed to change any strategies in your approaches, and how you two could take the next step.

You were surprised every time because even though he was there for everything, his word was always final. Jaeyun seemed to want your approval even if his vision was the opposite of yours. It was as if your permission was worth more than his, even though you saw him think for a while before making any decisions. Carefully and cautiously when he asked you about shares and employees, about investments, and what he should do, he was careful and very intelligent, but in his view, you were so much more. So having your approval before his was more important.

This meant that the two of you shared more time than necessary, apart from being in the office. Jaeyun constantly calls you to have dinner and go over some papers when, in reality, the two of you did everything but go over papers. Or when he called you for coffee in the middle of the day to de-stress from an annoying client in question, you gladly accepted because the combination of his company and a hot coffee was all you needed after a moment like that.

What started as routine things became a little different when Jaeyun became warmer towards you at work. It was hard to tell at first since he was always very professional and the looks you got from him were either approving ones or small smiles after a good idea in the corporate environment. You never noticed anything more than that. Until that moment. Where he made a point of touching your hand when he sat next to you, reaching for your pen while he was resting on the other side. Or when Jaeyun would gently rest his hand on your lower back so that you would enter the rooms before him as if he would lose sight of you at any moment even though the room was quite large and there was no way he could lose sight of you.

Dinners no longer had the excuse of work stuff, Jaeyun just wanted to go out and talk to you about everything other than shares, money, and boring investors. He wanted to know more about you, he wanted to hear you tell stories and he wanted to share his too. However, in this respect, you could feel him wavering a little as if he was afraid to talk about something he shouldn't have.

In your mind, Jaeyun had something difficult he was dealing with, so he tended to be more reserved about it, but you learned enough about him as the dinners became weekly. Every detail about his life – which he managed to share with you – and every quirk you picked up on as the two of you spent more time together. Jaeyun was a little box of surprises that you were trying to unravel little by little.

But as things naturally grew closer between you and him, something about the boy's behavior caught your attention. From time to time Jaeyun seemed more scattered at meetings, as if his mind was anywhere but on the words of an old, gray-haired man talking about work. Or how dinners between the two of you became the company cafeteria, him refusing – politely – to go out with you with the excuse that he was too tired. But at the same time, he didn't want to break his silent promise that you and he would share a meal at least once a week.

That didn't bother you, after all, you still had his company even if the dishes varied from pasta with fancy sauce to ramen that he asked an employee to pick up at the corner convenience store. That wasn't so important, at least Jaeyun was sitting in front of you with a faint smile and talking about how hard his day had been and how he wanted to go home and be with his dog.

Everything changed that night. You did everything in your routine, working tirelessly in your office while receiving a few emails from Jaeyun to line up a thing here and there. Answering a few calls and dealing with the staff as best you could. After you finished work, you just wanted to be in the cafeteria and try another flavor of ramen that Jaeyun had bought, claiming that you would love it. Your mouth was already starting to salivate because you knew he could find the most unusual flavors, always impressing you with the smallest things.

But your heart sank when the door to your living room opened, revealing Jaeyun and a grocery bag. Everything happened slowly before your eyes, even though the scene itself was so fast.

“I can't stay today” Jaeyun's voice snapped you out of your reverie, the bag placed on your desk while his hands were now hidden inside the tailored pants he was wearing.

“Why? Did something happen?” you asked, trying not to sound disappointed enough for him to see that he had messed with you.

But what you didn't know was that Jaeyun knew you as well as you knew yourself. Your every expression, tone of voice, everything. He knew exactly how you felt, perhaps because he was the same way, but also because he watched you too much.

“Some personal problems” he sighed softly, looking away from the bag to you “I brought you the ramen, so you can try it and tell me what you think.”

Jaeyun tried to smile to lighten the mood, taking his hands out of his pockets to fiddle with the bag and take out the bowl, showing you the new flavor he'd found. You bit your lower lip to keep from letting out a sigh or saying something you shouldn't have. Your heart was strangely bothered by it.

“It's no fun without you, Jaeyun” was the most you could say without sounding desperate or showing too much.

He felt the weight of everything fall on him as his eyes fell to the pot of ramen, seeing a spark of sadness shine in your eyes as your hands touched his and took the pot from his hand. Putting it back in the bag, you closed it and pushed it towards him.

“I—” Jaeyun turned away from your table, not wanting the ramen packets back “I'm sorry, Y/n. I really have to go.”

“Jaeyun—”

He was afraid that if he heard you say anything, he'd stay for dinner with you. That's what he wanted most. But he couldn't. Jaeyun had to leave as soon as possible before everything went to shit. So, just as quickly as he entered your office, he left and closed the door before he heard anything else come out of your mouth.

You stood there at your desk, staring at the bag that had been left there. It was the first night since you two started eating together that he didn't stay. The first night that Jaeyun barely looked at you before saying goodbye. He didn't even touch your hand as he did when he picked you up for dinner or coffee. He was so distant that it seemed like you didn't recognize him.

Meanwhile, Jaeyun was racing against time to try to balance the double life he was leading. Getting involved with you wasn't in his plans, not least because corporate life was just a façade for him, so the moment he found himself nurturing any feelings for you, he knew he was screwed. Jaeyun couldn't fall in love, but he also couldn't help feeling it when everything seemed natural when he was with you. Your presence made him forget all the bad things he experienced outside that office. That is there he was Sim Jaeyun, your partner and someone who was slowly taking over your heart.

But unfortunately, that couldn't be forever and he knew it. Leaving the elevator and walking hurriedly to his car, he took off his jacket and threw it on the passenger seat, the place where you had sat countless times in your work clothes as beautiful as any woman he had ever seen in his life. That symbolic place belonged to you, even if he didn't want to admit it. Jaeyun let his head fall back against the steering wheel of the car, uttering swear words that he remembered and that made his body explode with rage.

He wanted to be Sim Jaeyun forever. Your partner, the man who was slowly making you fall in love.

But leaving there he was Jake, one of the mob bosses who was now rushing to help his friends with new charges and problems coming up.

The sound of his fingers drumming on the marble of the table was a little louder than usual. Jaeyun tried hard not to show how annoyed – and angry – he was to be there that night. He knew it would be impossible to hide from his friends how much he disliked being there, but at the same time, he couldn't forget what an authority figure he was there too.

“Are you in a bad mood?” he heard Sunghoon's voice cut through the air, entering the room with all the grace he had compared to the other boys. Jaeyun sighed, stopping his drumming to slide his hand to the glass in front of him and drink all the liquid it contained. He wasn't sure what it was, but he would thank Heeseung later for putting in the highest alcohol content he could find.

“Don't tease me, Park” he replied after feeling the burning go down his throat.

Sunghoon laughed a little and sat down next to Heeseung, facing Jaeyun.

“I asked you a question, bro” he said, “Why are you in such a bad mood? Jay and San have already managed to corner those idiots and take what they tried to steal from us.”

Looking at it that way, Jaeyun could be relieved. Smuggling drugs wasn't something he was proud of doing, but he knew how respected he was for carrying on his father's work as well as he would have liked. At the time, Sim wished he hadn't been so good and just stuck to executive work, without getting involved with the family mafia. But he knew how much confidence his late father had and how much he wanted Jaeyun to take over.

“I know, it's just—”

“He's mad because we ruined his date with his girlfriend” Heeseung winked at Sunghoon, who quickly understood everything.

“Shit, tonight was the night of your romantic dinner.”

“It's not a romantic dinner” Jaeyun tried to make amends.

“I told us not to call him, damn it, Heeseung” Sunghoon pretended to be angry, knowing that there was no way not to call Jaeyun. This was of a gigantic magnitude and even though the two of them were his right-hand man, they couldn't make decisions without consulting him first. A form of respect for their best friend, who had taken them in even after taking on a dangerous and important position.

“What did you want me to do?” Heeseung tried to defend himself, sliding down the back of the chair and running one hand through his hair “They tried to rob us” he continued “My only thought was to run to the shed and stop it, but I couldn't do that without Jake's approval.”

Jaeyun listened intently as the conversation unfolded in front of him. Heeseung and Sunghoon knew that they had complete freedom when it came to any decision, especially if Jaeyun was playing the role of partner in a big company. Wearing a suit and tie, expensive tailoring, and with you by his side. It was a persona he wanted to maintain, even though reality hit him every time he received a call from his best friends informing him of something concerning his second job.

He ran a hand through his hair, the sting of the drink gradually fading from his throat as he looked at the two boys still talking.

An absurd urge to disappear and leave the business to the two of them, to run to the office because Jaeyun knew you'd still be there working, eating the ramen he'd left for you. A strange tightness in his chest made him sigh. He had left you alone for the first time after everything had happened. It wasn't because he wanted to, but Jaeyun was afraid of involving you in the second life he was leading. He didn't want to put you in danger, make you go out to dinner with glances lingering between the two of you.

That life brought Jaeyun and his friends a lot of good things, but just as many bad things. He walked around with plainclothes security guards all the time, but it wasn't as if he could do that for you without your permission. It would be handed to him on a plate to tell you about his life in the mafia because on what pretext would Jaeyun say he wanted to offer you private security? It wasn't as if it was necessary for the life of a company boss. No one would want to hurt you for that. So with his lack of creativity in coming up with an excuse, he found himself doing the one thing he didn't want to do: hide you.

Dinner in the company cafeteria was safer than parading around with you by his side, even though it was the only thing he wanted at that moment more than anything. Holding your hand again with the excuse that the restaurant was full and he didn't want to let you out of his sight. That may have been true, but a large part of it was because he was worried that someone in disguise might harm you.

Jaeyun had declared enemies and he knew what some were capable of. Anything could be done against him, but no one should lay a finger on you.

“Jake!” Heeseung's shout brought him out of his thoughts quickly, blinking hard to regain awareness that he'd been immersed in his thoughts for too long “Dude, do you have her on your mind again?”

“At least disguise it” Sunghoon muttered.

“I think I'm going to shoot your ass, you idiot” Jaeyun pointed at his friend, getting up from his chair.

“Calm down man, I'm kidding” he said “Messing with her really puts you in a bad mood.”

Jaeyun ignored it because he had no way of refuting it. He realized that everything that involved him made his nerves frayed and his feelings more acute. It wasn't as if he could control what he felt. If he could, Jaeyun would have chosen not to involve any feelings because he wanted to protect you. But the next thing he knew, any little detail about you made him lose his mind. He wanted to keep you close, he wanted to feel you, he wanted to have you even if it meant risking everything.

A remnant of conscience made him keep his touches a little simpler, although he felt the absurd urge to grab your waist and feel your lips pressed to his.

“I'm going to check what Jay's got so far” Heeseung got up too, passing the seats and going around the table to leave the room “Any news I'll let you two know, so keep an eye on the phones” and left.

Now with Sunghoon being the only presence in the room besides him, Jaeyun felt the weight of everything almost crush him. His friend's gaze almost pierced his insides because he knew how Sim felt. Sunghoon had a better view of Jaeyun's feelings than the other two.

“Sit down” he said when he saw his best friend lost in thought, barely able to utter a word apart from opening and closing his mouth a few times. Obeying, Jaeyun sat back in his chair “What's going on?”

What about? He wanted to ask but knew it was a waste of time. There was nothing Park Sunghoon couldn't figure out. So the other just sighed, leaning back even further in his chair and closing his eyes.

“I shouldn't have liked her in the first place” it was almost natural to let it out, as if he wanted Sunghoon to hear those words “Things should be professional, I should just focus on the actions and nothing else. Then go back home, deal with the mafia problems my father left behind, and later think about marrying the daughter of some other mafia boss.”

“Better than marrying Y/n?” Sunghoon asked.

It was strange that his best friends spoke your name. This was proof that the two worlds Jaeyun lived in were colliding. Then he opened his eyes, wanting to scream out everything that had been squeezing his chest for the last few hours.

“That's what happened to my father, I just—”

“It doesn't have to happen to you” Sunghoon interrupted him with a certain kindness, although there was none in his tone. He still looked at his best friend as he said each word with deep sincerity “You fell in love with her and you have to go with that. Make Y/n part of your life like Sim Jaeyun and—”

“Don't even finish it” it was his turn to interrupt him “I would never bring her to meet Jake Sim.”

“But if you two got engaged, sooner or later she'd find out about the double life you lead, man” Jaeyun hated how certain Sunghoon seemed about anything. He was the most rational when it came to work and personal life and always had the best advice. He was responsible for not letting any of his three best friends commit any kind of madness.

“This can't happen” his hands ran frantically through his hair, messing up every strand that Jaeyun managed to get his fingers through. He wanted to pull them out of his head in a moment of small sanity but came back to reality when he heard Sunghoon's voice next.

“Maybe you don't need to tell her at first, but it might make Jaeyun's life a little more enjoyable” he said calmly, “You really are falling for her, we can see that.”

We. Jaeyun had always been good at hiding his feelings, from the prettiest to the worst, from his friends. Or so he thought since he had to swallow so much just to make his father proud and be where he was at that moment. Bringing Sunghoon, Jongseong, and Heeseung with him was a baggage of confidence and a remnant of the normal life he had before getting involved in the family business. The only three people in his circle who knew everything, who never judged him, and were always there for Jaeyun. The best childhood friends who stuck together, and that in itself made them get to know more about each other every day.

That's why the three of you could see Jaeyun slowly falling in love with you. Although the words never left his mouth, the way he talked about you could already be deduced from afar. The sparkle in his eyes when he opened a message from you on the meeting table in the room as Jake Sim. The spark of a feeling emerged as he replied sweetly. When the boys attended a company dinner as fake investors, talking to you about the profit they could generate for your and Jaeyun's company. The reality was that they were there at Sim's request to check if anyone was a possible suspected smuggler or rival since his name had been talked about so much in the city at the famous dinner. He was afraid of someone showing up and ruining the double life he had fought so hard to hide.

It was the first and only time the three of them had met and talked to you, but it was enough to see the way Jaeyun looked at you. How he behaved next to you and the tired sighs he released throughout the night as each man approached you. Before, your name was a legend to them, Sim Jaeyun's lousy partner in the company, but when they saw you in person, it all seemed to make sense.

Now we know why Jake fell in love so easily, Heeseung almost lost his teeth when he made that comment inside the shed, after counting out three hundred and eight suitcases of cash. Payment for the container of drugs they had distributed. Jongseong was in charge of separating his best friend so that he wouldn't beat Heeseung to a pulp, while Sunghoon calmly intervened.

Everything went so slowly until he realized that he had fallen too hard for you. In the feelings he was having for you.

“What can I do about it now?” Jaeyun finally looked at Sunghoon, really looked at him. Looking for an answer and no longer wanting to run away from what mattered at that moment.

“How about making amends and asking her to dinner?” he asked.

“I don't want to go out with her and be seen— You know, I don't know who might be following me…”

“Come on Jake, how many men do you have doing security for your dead father's mafia?” he glared at his friend, always teased by the way Jaeyun didn't like to say that it was all his now. It would be easier to say that it still belonged to his late father, that all those men followed the command of Mr. Sim, to whom Jaeyun gave his voice. He didn't like to be called boss, although it happened at the teasing of his friends.

“Many” Jaeyun answered him.

“Then put them in charge of her security once a week” Sunghoon swiveled in his chair, his eyes never leaving Jaeyun's for a second “We have enough men to put in one a week without her noticing, and you'll still be able to go out with her in peace.”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment. He didn't want to be awkward about mentioning to you that men were escorting you for your safety, after all, he was afraid that something would happen to you even if the two of you had no involvement whatsoever.

“That's a very good idea, Hoon, but—”

“There's no such thing, you know it's the only way if you want to have something with her.”

For a while longer he seemed to think about the possibility. It wasn't as if Jaeyun was hiding something terrible from you, not least because he would be looking out for your safety. He'd also be freer to go out with you again for the dinners you two shared during the weeks.

“Not to mention that if you and she start dating, the security will be doubled, don't you think?” Sunghoon stood up from his chair “Everyone will know about her if something gets serious.”

That was Jaeyun's fear, that everyone would know about you besides him and his best friends. In that world where he was Jake Sim, there was no way anything could be hidden. It wasn't like the world where Jaeyun could get away with it under an expensive suit and a lot of stock. He sighed heavily, throwing his head back without the strength to continue the conversation. Knowing how right his best friend was.

“Right, thanks for the advice, anyway” Jaeyun asked.

“At your service” Sunghoon smiled “Are you going to stay there now? I'll check on Heeseung if Jay needs any help too…”

“I'll stay a while longer, I'll be going soon” he said, still sitting down because his body seemed to be weighed down by the barrage of information and advice thrown at him in such a short space of time.

Sunghoon walked to the door of the room, opened it, and turned to Jaeyun with a playful, silly smile on his face.

“Yes sir, boss” giving a mock salute, he ran off before Jaeyun could gather up a load of papers to throw in his direction, but Sunghoon was quick to close the door. Not before hearing the other swear at him for his provocations.

Jaeyun got to know you little by little, his first impression being of you as a strong and fearless woman. Someone he could easily work with among the men who underestimated you and who made him feel angry. Little by little, he noticed how easy it was to live with you and how you could read between the lines when things were happening. He was surprised when he started to notice the moment you felt uncomfortable in a meeting or in the presence of a man who tried to put you down, or how he could understand how bothered and angry you were with some stupid comment or action that had gone wrong.

Over time, he realized that he knew a lot about you just by interacting with you professionally. But when he decided to take a step and invite you to dinner, under the pretext of reviewing something from work, Jaeyun knew he was ruined. He knew that the first sincere smile you gave him had ruined and torn down any barrier he had built over the years in an attempt to not bring anyone into the dark and double world of his life. Jaeyun didn't want you to be a part of that.

So trying to push you away and keep you safe was the first and only thought he had, swallowing the physical and carnal desire that consumed him for wanting to have you in his arms. He couldn't afford to make the mistake of going around glimpsing you and your beauty, enjoying life as a couple that he knew was dangerous.

Sim Jaeyun was a good man, but Sim Jake was the opposite of that. And between the two personas he found himself divided on what to do because he knew that in both his lives, he was in love with you. It was the only thing he couldn't separate.

He knew it was too late to try to make Sunghoon's advice count for anything. Arriving at the office the next day, Jaeyun knew he had screwed up when he saw the bag of ramen on his desk, the two untouched pots very well placed next to the papers he needed to fill out during the day. What surprised him was the way you treated him throughout the week.

Professionalism took over again and you were the Y/n he had met when he joined that company and took on the role of being his partner. He saw the old woman with whom he had shared the management of that building and whom he had always admired – later he had fallen in love – and now he was back to the beginning. At least you, because he felt that he was falling more and more into your charms and letting his feelings take over.

It wasn't easy that you were monosyllabic in meetings, your gaze never meeting his, and every time you both needed to talk about any decision, you said you were busy and asked Jaeyun to talk to your secretary. You were running away, he knew that. So it could only mean that, besides being upset about him leaving you that night, something told you that you also had feelings for him.

Because no one would be upset about canceling a dinner. Even with the shitty excuse he gave you, if neither of you had feelings for each other, Jaeyun wouldn't have been frustrated to get Heeseung's call that night and you wouldn't have been upset to see him leave without even eating with you and then leaving.

It was a silent competition of who was handling it the worst way possible.

But he didn't know that jealousy was being added to the mix when he saw a new investor smile at you. How bold he was to approach you after the meeting, in the coffee room, and ask if you wanted to go out for something to eat.

I've seen this happen before, idiot. Don't even try. That's what he hoped the look would convey, but Jaeyun forgot that you hadn't looked in his direction for a few days, trying to ignore him as best you could. That's why you accepted the invitation. A little hesitantly because it had never happened before, other than Jaeyun, it was the first time that any man inside that building had invited you for something other than your partner. At that moment, after so many days, you looked in his direction, afraid of what you might feel when your eyes met. But seeing the discomfort on Sim's face seemed to give you some satisfaction.

“I still have a few more things to take care of, so—” the man extended a hand to you, gently holding yours. His touch was gentle and you tried to smile a little wider, looking away from Jaeyun to the boy in front of you “Do you mind meeting at the restaurant on the corner in half an hour?”

“No. It’s okay” you replied, feeling him squeeze your hand and lean in to kiss your torso, pulling away and letting go of your hand. He smiled at you once more, returning to the circle of men that was in the other corner of the room to say goodbye and do what he had to do.

You thought you should chat with your employees after a meeting, have some coffee like you always did, and then go to your office. But Jaeyun’s gaze was starting to make you feel strange. He didn’t miss a single movement of yours, from the moment you moved to get a cup of coffee to when you approached your secretary to whisper to him.

“I’m going to my office” you said quietly, not wanting to make a fuss with anyone. “I’ll be leaving for dinner soon, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am” he smiled at you, looking away to Jaeyun and swallowing hard. Your secretary had always been a bit wary of the man who was staring at you, but since there had never been any disagreements, that was passed on as he showed himself to be completely professional.

Jaeyun had never felt jealous until this moment, watching you gracefully leave the room and close the door.

It was all his fault and the idiotic way he tried to push you away even though he wanted to keep you close. Now, not knowing how to act, Jaeyun had to witness that scoundrel of someone asking you out and, worst of all, you accept it.

Something settled inside him and, without measuring any effort, he walked out the door quickly to your office. His mind had never worked well under pressure, whether from anger or jealousy like it was now. Jaeyun had never been jealous, after all, he had never met anyone who aroused that kind of feeling in him. It was like an urban legend or only hearing about the romantic stories that Jongseong and Sunghoon had here and there. But he had never felt that in his life.

When he stopped in front of your office door, his heartbeat almost rose to his ears as adrenaline and anxiety ran through him. Jaeyun didn't know how he would act after finding you in your office and confronting you. He knew something would happen, you could feel the tension in the air every time the two of you were in the same room, he just didn't know how intense it was. He had a slight impression, but he couldn't decipher you from that yet.

He decided not to knock, gripping the door handle and turning around without beating around the bush, entering right away before you could say anything else.

“What—” you quickly turned around from the table, where you had been facing away until then, packing your things and ready to leave. Your heart almost jumped out of your mouth at the sight of Jaeyun standing in the middle of your living room. The thud of the door as it closed went unnoticed by your ears and the only sound was your own racing heart. “Jaeyun?”

He approached slowly, one step at a time as he thought about what to say or how to act. You could tell how fast his chest was rising and falling due to the rapid breathing from the fright he had gotten seconds ago.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, trying to stay calm as he continued to approach. The steps stopped just a few inches away when he cornered you between his body and your table, making your body almost bend over if it weren’t for your hands being quick enough to hold on to the edge of the table.

“You’re not going to this dinner” the authority in his tone of voice made your legs tremble, but you were grateful to hold yourself firmly against the table and your hands tightened their grip on the edge. Jaeyun still had the ability and knowledge to read you so perfectly that when he saw your mouth open – probably with the intention of asking why – he was faster and leaned in to press his lips to yours.

He expected anything: a slap, a sudden pull away, a loud curse that could echo throughout the building. But the surprise came when you let go of the edge of the table to spread your hands against his chest, slowly moving up until you grabbed the collar of the shirt he was wearing, pulling him closer to you.

You were an amazing woman and he knew it, every single thing you did drove him crazy. And feeling you pulling him between your legs, giving way by opening your lips and welcoming his tongue and tangling it with yours.

Everything seemed magical to Jaeyun and you. Each touch took its time, something that had been repressed until now. He brought his hands to your hips, keeping you in place as he made a small effort to lift you up and sit you on the table.

Your pride in trying to ignore him was going down the drain more and more, as Jaeyun intensified that kiss and moaned against your lips. You should have pushed him away and gotten out of there when it was time, but now it was too late. He was tangled between your legs and his hands were doing a great job squeezing you and sliding down to your lower back to slide down to your ass. It was your turn to moan against his lips, your nails going inside the collar of his shirt and scratching his shoulder to mark something against the skin you wanted so much to know.

“Jaeyun” you whispered breathlessly and he swore that was the best sound he had ever heard in his life. Pulling his lips away from yours to get some air for his lungs, he let you ramble on as he lowered his mouth down your jaw. Feeling the taste of your skin and the texture of it between his lips, marking a path of saliva until it reached your neck.

“Yes, babe?” Jaeyun had no idea how much he moved you, because if he did, he would never call you by that nickname in the form of a whisper, while still kissing your skin and sucking a good amount of it between his lips. The pop noise he left after a long suck, certainly leaving the spot marked a few minutes later.

“I need—” you wanted to say that you needed to go, that this would be a provocation on his part. But your mind wasn’t working right and it didn’t help that he started pressing his hips against yours. “Holy shit” you moaned softly, the hardness of Jaeyun’s cock slowly making the right pressure against your still-clothed clit. You couldn’t say how he had the exact notion of where to press and how to press.

“I already told you that you won’t, Y/n” Jaeyun gasped against your neck, moving his kisses up and trailing the tip of his tongue across your skin until his face was level with yours again.

That sight was hell on earth for you. Jaeyun with his lips red and shiny from the kiss they had just shared, adding to the kisses and hickeys on your skin. His eyes drooping and dark with desire staring at you with a possessiveness you never thought you would know. You wanted to be able to say something, but it was impossible while you had his hands on your shoulders now.

“Tell me if this is too much, okay?” What did he mean by that? What was Jaeyun thinking when he asked you that kind of thing? It was already too much to have felt his kiss in a situation like that, but you were sure that it was too much to have his fingers unbuttoning the buttons of your shirt.

Every particle of your skin is exposed for his eyes to admire even more. You were never one to wear low-cut tops at work and his sanity was grateful for that, so he didn't know what to do as each button was undone until he reached below your breasts.

“Shit” he cursed softly, praying that you wouldn't hear the hint of vulnerability in his voice as he noticed the light lace adorning your breasts. They were beautiful and he didn't want to think about anything else but touching them. But Jaeyun didn't want to rush, he needed to feel you because he had been depriving himself of it for so long and almost lost.

When the last button was undone, he bit his lower lip to keep from moaning at the sight of you naked in front of him, sitting on the table with his body between your legs. Jaeyun would be lying if he said he had never thought about being in that position with you, or any other, where only his cock inside you and your voice moaning his name would be enough for any scenario to be propitious. He felt like a pervert for it, but there was no denying the desire that radiated inside him every time you showed up.

Leaning down, Jaeyun left a kiss in the space between your neck and your collarbone, enjoying the sounds you made and smiling against your skin when he didn't hear any objections from you. This meant he could continue with the kisses until he reached the curve of your breast, tracing the outline with the tip of his tongue. He looked up, seeking eye contact with you and when he did, he knew he was where he belonged. The way you looked at him, the tense and longing expression you maintained as you held his gaze was all he needed.

“Can I continue?” he asked.

“Please, yes” you answered, nibbling on your lower lip at the same moment that Jaeyun's teeth slid over the lace of your bra, lowering the fabric enough to expose your chest. He was on the verge of madness to taste every part of you, but desire consumed him with every reaction you had to his touch.

The tip of Jaeyun's tongue circled your exposed nipple, making a moan run through the room as it slipped out of your throat. He felt his cock tighten even more in his pants with each sound you made. His hands – which had previously remained calm when touching you – now impatiently ran over your shoulders to remove your shirt with a quick tug, going to the middle of your back to unbutton your bra and rip it off your body as well. Turning his attention back to your breasts, he sucked your nipple with such desire while his large hand covered the other and squeezed to feel its softness.

You were on cloud nine, his every touch coated with possessiveness and desire, making your head spin as you felt Jaeyun's warm tongue against your nipple. The silent sucking compared to the sound of your moans, while your hands quickly went to his hair to pull the strands as a sign that he would never stop what he was doing.

But he also didn't intend to take his mouth off your body. If Jaeyun could talk at that moment, he would tell you how good it was feeling every part of your skin, hearing every one of your moans, and he still hadn't done half of the things he wanted to do with you.

Missing your mouth, he went up to your lips again to share another kiss, this time a little more sloppy and slobbery. Your tongues ran against each other for dominance while your mouths fit perfectly, the synchrony of the movements making you both gasp into each other's mouths.

Jaeyun's hands went to your hips again, but this time his speed and strength came to the advantage as he took off your skirt along with your panties. At another time you could notice how skilled he was and wonder – or not – why he was in such a hurry or knew how to do it so quickly. But now you just wanted to focus on the cold air of the room hitting your pussy and how Jaeyun released your lips with a lewd and wet noise.

It never crossed your mind that Sim Jaeyun, your partner, the man you had seen many times seriously across the room – regardless of the number of times you had dinner together – and for whom you were harboring feelings, would now be kneeling in front of you. He was perdition personified in that submissive and vulnerable position. His eyes were bright, like a puppy begging for a reward. And you knew that what he wanted, besides making up for lost time, was to be between your legs like that.

A mutual and wordless agreement between you and Jaeyun was drawn at that moment, with him slowly approaching your pussy and you opening your legs enough to accommodate him even more. As a test, he stretched out his tongue and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clitoris, collecting your essence and feeling your taste linger on the tip of the wet muscle that he passed through your entire intimacy.

“Fuck, Jaeyun” you tilted your head back, the deliciously warm sensation of his tongue licking your pussy was too much to handle. His hands wrapped around your thighs and held them wide open as he licked a little more, seeming to be hungry as he collected a little more of your essence.

You rested your hands in his hair, your legs feeling like jelly as Jaeyun moved a little further. He focused on sucking on your clit, circling his tongue over the sensitive bud as he looked up to try to catch some reaction from you. Your head was thrown back, but he wanted you to look at him, just once. Just once to see him eat you like a good meal.

“Look at me, Y/n” Jaeyun asked hoarsely, pulling his lips away from your pussy to get your attention. You wanted to pull his hair and bury his face in your pussy again, the lack of contact with your clit made you whimper softly, it was a great torture. But you had to obey if you wanted to feel him again, so your head lifted, your eyes searching his to find the sinful sight.

There was no way Jaeyun could be that desirous more than anything else, it was impossible that that man could look so good in any position or situation. You almost cursed him if it weren't for how quickly he maintained eye contact as he approached your pussy again. This time he sucked you more slowly, drawing circles on your clit and maintaining eye contact, not losing a single second of his eyes on yours. He moved one of his hands away from your leg to slide between your folds, introducing his index finger into your hole.

“I— Fuck, don't do this” you pressed yourself against his finger, the introduction being too much for you. He wanted to fuck you so badly now, with your moaning and your eyes nearly closing, it was torturous to keep them open as he inserted the second finger and continued to suck on your clit.

The movements were now combined quickly, making him alternate between scissoring movements and rotating his fingers inside you, at the same second he sucked your clitoris and ran the tip of his tongue over your pussy, opening your lips so he could spread his saliva along with your essence. The wet sound of his fingers going back and forth inside you, Jaeyun's prominent knuckles almost making you come undone right there. Your walls sucked him so deliciously that he wanted to feel his cock being buried inside you and how hot it would be to be inside there.

The thought alone made Jaeyun feel his underwear get wet, he knew that his pre-cum was almost overcoming the tailoring of the pants he was wearing. It was already too much to have to endure all of that without being able to feel the slightest relief in his cock. But when he decided to introduce the third finger inside your pussy, it was as if he had seen the vision of heaven. Your head fell back again, you couldn't keep your eyes on him.

“Y/n, look—”

“Come up here, please,” you begged. He gave your clit one last kiss as if to taste you one last time before moving up his body to be close to you again. His fingers continued to work your pussy harder and harder as it clenched around his sliding, wet digits.

When Jaeyun brought his face closer to yours, you didn’t wait for any response other than to place your lips on his, sharing the taste of you that lingered on his lips. It was all so intense as your body shuddered and the knot in your stomach broke. You hugged Jaeyun’s body between your arms and held him by the hips between your legs, your pussy convulsing on his fingers as his mouth muffled the most obscene and loud moans you could make calling his name. Cumming on his fingers so hard that all of your liquid easily ran down the palm of his hand.

He wanted you to take the time you needed to catch your breath, the intensity of your orgasm taking over every cell in your body as he was careful enough to pull his fingers out of your pussy. You moaned and whimpered, the lack of contact making you feel empty and weak, but something sparked in you when Jaeyun pulled away enough to bring his fingers to his lips, licking the length of his cock until he reached the palm of his hand.

“I knew you tasted amazing” he whispered, completely cleaning up what had been your orgasm liquid until there was nothing left.

You pulled him back to you, running your thumb over his chin that held more of your liquid. Jaeyun smiled slowly as he felt your soft touch, your fingers sliding down it until they reached the waistband of his pants.

“Y/n, don’t—”

“Shhh, it’s okay” you kissed his jaw, your lips slowly sliding down Jaeyun’s neck to part of his exposed collarbone “It must hurt, huh?”

“No” he lied, moaning the second your hands undid his belt and opened his zipper so his cock would be less tight. He wasn’t good at that kind of lie per se, but he wasn’t stupid enough to want to demand too much from you either, considering the intensity of your orgasm, Jaeyun was already happy to see you satisfied like that.

“We can make this less painful for you” your voice whispered so sensually that he almost came undone right there, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down before he felt your mouth kiss him, right in the middle of his throat. “Put that down for me” your request was an order that had no objection, so Jaeyun quickly pushed his pants along with his underwear, his cock jumping out and hitting against his pelvis and stomach. Your eyes quickly scanned down, seeing the size of it and sighing at the thought of it being inside you in a few seconds.

“Y/n” Jaeyun moaned, an absurd need to have any kind of touch from you against him. Then your fingers quickly went to the head of his cock, red and shiny with pre-cum, spreading all the liquid with the sole purpose of stimulating him and teasing him a little. “What the fuck, shit” he cursed.

It was too much to suffer, considering that Jaeyun had been untouched for a long time, even more so after hearing your moans and seeing what your body was capable of with just a few touches from him. Impatience took over and he pulled his shirt by the collar, not bothering to undo any buttons, he just wanted to get rid of any piece that held him and feel the heat of your body against his.

“I want—” he moaned again, pushing his hips against the palm of your hand when you held the base and went down the entire length, masturbating his veiny and thick cock between your fingers. Jaeyun wanted nothing more than to feel your touch and what you were making him feel.

“What do you want?” you asked, your lips still against the skin of his throat, slowly sliding down to one of his ears to whisper the words. He spread his hands on your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh and pulling your body over the table so that he was at the edge of it. Your hips and your pussy are a little more exposed to him.

“I want to be inside you, Y/n. I— fuck” Jaeyun knew he was being a mess just moaning and fucking your fist as your hand tightened more and more on his cock. Spreading the pre-cum all over the length until it reached the base.

He went crazy when you leaned in enough for a ball of saliva to escape between your lips and slide down to the head of his cock, spreading some of it along the length with your – almost–perfect aim. That helped spread it even more across Jaeyun’s cock and he couldn’t take it anymore, it was too much for him and the boy was afraid he would explode in his hand and cum right there. It would be shameful to do this without him being inside you, even for a few seconds.

“Y/n, please…” it was his turn to beg now. The feared Sim Jake would never do this, would never be in this role, much less Sim Jaeyun. Both respected and feared, but now he just wanted to be yours and beg for whatever you had to offer.

Without further provocation, you knew how painful it was for him. And your pussy got wet again just from the sounds he made and the unfolding of the scene in front of you. Positioning his cock at your entrance, it was a silent invitation for him to insert himself into your hole. Your hands left there to hold him, one on each side of his neck, letting Jaeyun lead the movements.

Slowly he thrust his cock into you, the warmth of your pussy and the wetness of your juices being enough to shelter him so well and facilitate the entrance of his cock that you swore it would not be possible to fit. Soon he was all the way inside you, his breathing uneven as he finally had his cock shoved into your pussy.

“How do you feel?” Jaeyun uttered with some difficulty, his chest rising and falling quickly as he leaned his body towards you.

“Amazing” you tried not to moan, pulling his face close to yours so that his forehead rested on yours. “You can move now” your request, again, became an order when Jaeyun finally moved his hips to remove his cock and leave only the head inside you, returning with a slow but strong movement. His pelvis touching your clit with the movement.

He could no longer hold back his good manners and the desire to go slowly, wanting to make you feel every time his cock entered and left your pussy. Jaeyun pressed his fingers into your thighs, leaving marks that could be seen later as his nails dug into your skin, gaining momentum to start the movements. The sounds of skin slapping and the wetness of both your arousals are the perfect symphony accompanied by the moans that you and he left in your living room. It was visible the way you tried to keep your body each time Jaeyun thrust his cock even deeper into you, the burning slightly appearing in your groin with each more force that he thrust inside you. Your walls fluttered around his cock and sheltered him each time he entered with even more force.

“Shit, you feel so good.” Jaeyun gave a small smile when you tried to say something, only managing to moan and nod in agreement. Knowing how hard it would be for you to say anything at that moment he went faster and faster, pressing his fingers harder and harder against your body, now moving up to your hips. He felt you move your body against his, rubbing your clit against the length of his cock each time he pulled out completely before burying him deep inside you again. Jaeyun’s pelvis stimulated your sensitive bud each time he went so deep that there was no space left between your bodies, his balls slapping against your thighs and adding even more to the obscene noises in the sex between the two of you.

Jaeyun’s cock twitched as your pussy tightened, indicating that your orgasm was just around the corner. He was also about to cum, practically holding it in for so long that he feared how much would come next.

“I need—” Jaeyun whispered.

“Inside” you cut him off, knowing he could cum just by the way his hips bucked between thrusts. Your hands slid down his neck and up to his cheeks, cupping his face and pulling him in for a kiss. Your tongues tangled, your lips quick and desperate for some pressure as he picked up the pace to drive his cock even deeper into you.

A combination of his hip thrusts and the pulls he gave your hips to meet him, he felt your pussy clench around him so hard that it was enough for Jaeyun to spill. He came, painting your walls milky white as he moaned your name relentlessly. You weren’t far away and it only took a few more thrusts for you to cum on his cock. The white ring formed around his length as he continued to thrust in and out of you, not indicate that he was stopping just because cum was still gushing from the head of his sensitive cock.

With one last movement, your pussy milking every last drop, Jaeyun stopped moving. The strength draining from his body and giving way to calm, the high serotonin running through you and him after you both came together.

Jaeyun left a slow kiss on your lips, waiting a long minute until he finally pulled out of you. The sensitivity hits you both and makes you moan into each other's mouths.

“Sorry” he said as he knew you might be hypersensitive, even though he wanted to stay inside your pussy all night if he could.

“Okay” you replied, smiling tiredly before looking to the side and searching for your clothes. He went faster before lifting his underwear and pants, leaving a hint of sadness in your body for depriving you of the sight of him practically naked in front of you. But what caught your attention was that Jaeyun picked up his shirt from the floor, stretching it towards you.

“I don’t know where there are tissues, but—” he smiled a little, using the sleeve of his shirt to clean you between your legs.

“Jaeyun” you tried to stop him, but it was too late. Jaeyun cleaned you so carefully that it was practically impossible to believe, especially after what the two of you had done and the marks he had left on your body.

He helped you change, putting each piece of clothing in its proper place and still waiting for you to fix your hair, turning to him after a long time. The stain on the sleeve of his shirt, after it was put on, made your cheeks burn more than looking into his eyes and thinking about what the two of you had done.

“So…” you began, looking at him with a shy smile. Jaeyun smiled too, biting the inside of his cheek to keep it from growing even bigger as he got closer and wrapped one of his arms around your waist.

“Then I’ll take you home, and we’ll have dinner properly again from now on” as a couple, he wanted to add. But that was too much for just one night, Jaeyun wanted to tell you that as the two of you went out more often.

Explaining the fear he felt about his feelings for you was the most that could come out of Jaeyun's mouth. That made him feel good enough to not think he was lying – completely – to you. He was really afraid of what he felt, but at the same time, he was afraid of bringing you into his double world. The last part was still a secret, but at least hearing that you forgave him and that you accepted having a relationship with him was all that needed to be said.

Two months in which Jaeyun stopped being afraid to tell you what he felt for you. That the two of you, besides being business partners, had become a couple. You started to frequent his apartment and met his friends too, those who had to lie about their professions and never let it slip that they worked for Sim Jake, who you didn't even know.

Two months in which you had private security, unknown to you because Sunghoon's idea was better. At least one man every week took care of you from afar and kept Jaeyun informed in case anyone suspicious approached. No consequences were made as the relationship progressed. He was a little more relieved. Keeping it just in Jaeyun's life was what he wanted for a while, if things really progressed and became even more serious, he had to tell you about his other life. But there was no need yet.

“Love” your voice made him abandon the thoughts that constantly intrigued him, afraid that you would leave him at any moment for the lie he so wanted to get rid of, but couldn't. Looking in your direction, the smile came automatically when you approached him, going around the office desk to sit on his lap “Is everything okay?”

“Why do you ask?” in the last few months Jaeyun let the thought pass that you could also read him the same way he did with you. That you knew him as well as he knew you.

“Because I’ve been feeling quiet for a few days now” you wrapped one of your arms around his shoulders, at the same second he wrapped his arm around your waist “And because you’re twenty minutes late for dinner.”

Shit, the dinner. He had completely forgotten, staying inside the office to finish answering Jongseong and Sunghoon’s messages, trying to keep things out of danger with the new robbery that had been successfully carried out. He wanted to know if everything had gone according to the orders he had given that same morning, completely forgetting that he was supposed to meet you twenty minutes ago in the company parking lot.

“Shit, love, I’m sorry” Jaeyun leaned in, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His heavy breathing hit your skin and made you shiver. “I just—”

“How about we go home, then?” you asked, one of your hands going up to his hair and trying to stroke it slowly. “Your day must have been kind of rough, those men are annoying when they want to go back on their proposals.”

Every time you deduced that Jaeyun's tiredness and fear had something to do with the office, his heart sank a little more. His breathing hitched and he wanted to scream. But he held himself back and just nodded slowly, kissing your skin and lifting his head to look at you.

“Wait for me in the car? I'll fix everything here,” he asked.

“Sure,” you smiled once more, that being enough to calm all the nerves that persisted in his body. You leaned in to leave a quick and simple kiss on Jaeyun's full lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, Y/n,” he whispered back, kissing you once more before letting you get off his lap to leave the room.

Saying that he loved you out loud was like freeing himself from the bonds that suffocated him, held him back, and hurt him. He had never said that out loud to anyone other than his parents and his best friends. At first, it was as scary as wanting a relationship, but as you said and showed your love, Jaeyun knew it was the right thing to do. He felt that all that love was overwhelming, that as intensely as it scared him, it was the only thing that gave him the courage to continue.

Turning off all the appliances in the room and turning off the lights, he headed to the hallways of the building, greeting the security guards and some employees who were still there. Going to meet you in the parking lot. He just wanted to go home, enjoy your company, and take a hot shower. Many notes Jaeyun could think about having sex with you and using it as a form of calming, but that night he just wanted to feel your embrace, and your smell alone being the only thing capable of making his mind unfocused from everything that worried him.

A natural calming that was always right in front of him, the person who was the perfect balance between chaos and what he needed to stay alive.

“Jaeyun!” That was your voice, he could hear it from far away, but it wasn't like your call was as soft and calm as it always was. You were screaming. In desperation.

He looked around the open parking lot, trying to find you and why you seemed so desperate, but suddenly his world fell apart. Jaeyun's stomach was churning seeing your figure through the window of that van, screaming desperately and being pulled by someone hooded who wanted you to be quiet.

The car accelerated, making a complete turn in the parking lot before stopping next to Jaeyun and the passenger rolled down the window.

“We have something that belongs to you, Jake” the man smiled with rotten teeth, Jaeyun ran a few steps to grab him, but the driver took off “We want our drugs back!” he shouted before disappearing.

Your screams were the last thing he heard before the dead of night and the noise of the tires tearing through that parking lot. Jaeyun fell to his knees on the ground, the strength draining from his body. His scream echoed throughout the parking lot as he felt despair flood his body, along with the burning in his eyes and tears streaming down his cheeks.

What he feared most had happened. And he would stop at nothing to get you back.

© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.

[rodolfoparras]

The art of tardiness

Pairing: Unspecified Male Character x Male reader

cw: 18+, possessiveness, anal fingering, anal sex, top male reader, bottom male character, age gap, morning sex, writing on skin, feminization (hole referred to as cunt)

Synopsis: sometimes calling him yours just isn’t enough

There were times you were sure that your boyfriend was dating two different people.

One was the young man who’d swiftly tuck his tail between his legs at the smallest comment made about his relationship. That man could admit that he lacked experience compared to his much older partner, could admit he probably wasn’t his partner’s ideal type with his scrawny frame and short height, and he knew that even if his boyfriend were to look past those things, the people around them would never do it.

Then there was the rabid dog in the shape of a young man, that barks and bites at any potential threat, such as hostile comments made about his relationship. He’d look you straight in the eye and tell you not to make comments about a relationship you know nothing off, hell he’d get in a physical altercation if you provoked him enough.

And then of course there was the desire to bite the hand that feeds him, devour his person down to the bone so he wouldn’t have to share him with the world. He or rather you were pretty good at keeping this desire at bay but sometimes you just couldn’t contain it especially early in the mornings, when he looks like a sight to behold with his lazy smile bleary eyes, thin white sheet doing nothing to cover up his naked body.

You want to keep him in bed, mark him up, make him cum over and over again til all he can remember is the feeling of your cock

Unfortunately things aren’t that easy, especially when he has to get ready for work in half an hour, but stubborn as you are, you don’t let him go, dead set on marking him up as much as possible.

At first he’s too lost in bliss to notice what you’re doing, letting you suck and nip on the sensetive skin while desperately clinging onto your body, that is til you bite down hard enough to draw blood and the man jerks in place, wide eyed and suddenly too aware of what you’re doing.

“No marks” he says, even goes as far as to scruff your neck, as if you’re nothing but a disobedient dog to him “I have work, remember?”

“Please?” and you know that you must sound rather pathetic but honestly you couldn’t care less, especially not when you notice that a couple of marks have already started to bloom on his skin.

“So goddamn possessive what am I gonna do with you huh?” He says, while keeping a vice like grip on your neck “Should I let you write your damn name on my forehead? Would that make you happy hm?” He says gaze much softer as his thumb strokes your neck.

Even though he hadn’t intend to do so, his words gave you an idea and you immediately find yourself reaching for the night stand, hand blindly rummaging through the drawer.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” He says, brow raised but it doesn’t take long before realization strikes him “Absolutely not,”

You turn to the other man , practically giving puppy eyes. This time you do feel a tad bit of embarrassment but not enough to give up on this battle.

“I can’t go out like that,”

“You won’t,” you immediately say “I’ll do it somewhere you can cover it,”

“Jesus Christ kid,” he sighs out and pinches his brows but despite his words you know that his resolve has crumbled.

You’re quick to grab the first best pen before straddling his waist, the late night escapade having left him in nothing but a thin white sheet covering the most sensitive part of him but you can still feel you cock head rubbing upon the cleft of his ass as you settle down.

“Cheeky bastard” he breathes out, fully aware of where your mind’s gone to.

You only hush him response, muttering how you have to be focused before you attempt to put the marker to his arm.

But before you can do that he grabs ahold of your egg wrist, a firm look painted on his face “promise me it’ll wash off,”

“Promise,” you say with a shit eating grin on your face.

And as you proceed to put the marker to his skin, you realize that you’re at loss of ideas on what you could write on him. It’s like you wanted to do so much when the idea first struck your head but sitting here you almost feel overwhelmed by all the options that you have.

You play it safe at first, writing out your name just below his pec, a move that has the man squirming beneath you.

“Tickles,”

“Sorry,” you say, not an ounce of sincerity in your tone as you draw another scribble on his forearm. It’s you and him- well it’s supposed to be but your artistic skills only allow you to draw two stick figures holding hands.

For a moment there are no words exchanged as you continue draw on his skin. You do a couple of doodles here and there, some ridiculous other more scandalous. You even write some words on his skin- some being your name others being lewd quotes, everything done within range where he’d be able to hide it beneath his clothes.

“This enough for you kid?” He says, when the majority of his chest is covered in little scribbles.

He probably didn’t mean anything by those words. But the ugly monster residing inside couldn’t help but take this as a challenge especially when he says that as he lays naked in your shared bed, soft smile on his face, the scribbles of your name clearly showing under the rays of sunlight protruding through the bedroom window.

Instead of responding to him you grab ahold of his wrist, black marker writing out the letter M on his skin, bold and big, just within the range of where he can pull on a shirt if he wishes to hide the word. The letters I N E are soon added in place, big bold and curling around his underarm.

The word mine now lays written on his forearm.

But you don’t stop there, eyes flicking over to his furry stomach that looks awfully bare before you take a marker to it and start writing your initials all over it. This time around the skin isn’t as forgiving, straight lines turning jagged from coarse hair and faded scar. Not that you mind and neither does the little monster residing inside.

You continue writing on him, covering as much skin as he allows but truth be told you don’t know how his clothes will be able to cover up some scribbles, not that you plan on telling him that right now.

And he doesn’t seem to care that much as his gaze carefully follows your movements, breathing growing heavier and heavier with each second that passes.

At some point you feel the need to get closer to him even though you’re practically sitting ontop of him, swiftly shuffling around til you’re slotted between his thighs, carefully drawing a line from the crevice of his knee down to the groove of his left thigh.

He continues to watch you with attentive eyes, as you add a triangle to the end of line, the marker reaching dangerously to where his balls lay hanging between his thighs and from where you sit you can smell his musk hitting your nostrils, can feel his thighs clench beneath your fingertips , can now see the way the black arrow is humorously pointing straight to the furley ring of muscles.

It’s impossible not to reach out to the spot between his legs, a curious finger swiping over his sensitive skin and pulling a gasp out of him“Hah!”

Your eyes flicker up, cock twitching at the sight of the man who already looks so wrecked before looking back to the marker in your hand, moving it back and forth til the line on his thigh grows in size, doing anything just to busy your mind because you’re supposed to draw on him not fuck him, remember that?

But it’s not long before your attention is back onto his burning heat, a glob of spit landing onto the sensitive skin before your finger circles his now wet rim.

“What are you-“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you slip the tip of your finger inside, watching the way he jerks in surprise, the sudden movement jacking up the straight marker line, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Jesus Christ kid,” he breathes, voice dripping with both arousal and amusement as you continue to sink your finger inside of him.

“This alright?” You ask, and push til you’re knuckles deep before giving an experimental curl of your finger.

Another gasp escapes his mouth, hips bucking up into your touch “ hah -now you ask?” He says, but despite his words the man nods at your question.

That’s all it takes for you to work a second finger inside, this time coaxing a hiss out of him,“easy there kid going to break me,”

You can’t help but chuckle at that”Think you’re giving me too much credit pretty,” you say but decide to move your fingers at a much slower pace, watching the way his body once again relax onto the sheets as contented hums escape his lips.

You continue curling your fingers inside while drawing onto the man; circling birth marks and scars you find pretty, drawing arrows across every inch of skin while watching the way he twists and turns in the sheets with every brush of your fingertips “so fucking pretty like this drives me crazy “

At some point you stop drawing on his skin, turning all your focus to the fingers buried inside him.

You don’t even notice the way tears have started to gather at his eyes, nor the begs and please continuously escaping his mouth, too entranced with the sight of his hungry hole practically swallowing up your hand.

It’s only when he grabs ahold of your wrist that you snap back into the present moment, now noticing how you’ve left the pen to bled out on the white sheets, and how the ink on his skin has already started to smear.

The gruesome monster inside tells you that you need to find another way to mark the man.

Within moments you’re grabbing ahold of his legs, pushing his knees up to his chest til his cunt is on full display, not wasting another second to line your cockhead up with his entrance before pushing inside him.

“Ah fuck! Insatiable dog,” he barks out, not having expected you to do that but that doesn’t stop him from practically clamping onto you as you bottom out: heels digging into your ass and nails digging into your back as you start driving up into his hungry cunt.”mpf fuck just like that keep going kid“

Who’s insatiable now? You think to yourself, a strangled chuckle escaping your lips as you continue to thrust into his tight wet heat.

It doesn’t take long before you’re setting a steady pace, thrusting so erratically he’s practically choking up on the moans that are trying to escape his lips, bed frame frantically rocking against the wall every thrust of your hips.

“Ah! Fuck! Going to - hah going to kill me,” he says through choked sobs, hands madly clawing at your back as if he’s losing his footing on this world.

And as you look down at the beautiful mess he makes, you can’t help but notice the shadow of a bulge showing on his stomach, right below the spot where your initials lay.

Once again you feel the zealous monster within you take the steering wheel, hand pushing his legs past his ears, before drilling into him.

“Say it “ you grunt out, hands keeping a vice like grip on his thighs, pushing his legs so far back you’re sure you’ll split him in half if you keep it up “Come on come on say you’re mine”

At first he’s at a loss for words, barely even able to catch his breath with the way you’re erratically thrusting into him but eventually he manages to respond to you.

“Yours yours all yours fucking fuck I’m cum-“ he splutters out, hole erratically clenching down onto your cock before he cums in hot thick white streaks, across both his and yours abondmen “‘m sorry ‘m sorry” he slurs out, while he continues to shamelessly fuck himself back onto your cock.

Something about that sight is enough to triggering your own orgasm

“Fuck!” You cry out, eyes squeezing shut before youre hit with hot blinding pleasure.

The world around you blurs out, ears ringing loud as you continue to ride out your high before you eventually slump down beside the man.

“Jesus Christ,” you say, ears still ringing loud, world barely coming into focus. “That was-“ you begin but trail off once you can’t seem to find the right word for it.

A laugh rumbles through the older man’s chest, his big hand cradling the back of your neck before he says “got that right kid,”

You look up at him only to be left speechless at the sight.

See people always said that a relationship with someone so much younger than him would ruin him. You’d hear it over and over again while eavesdropping on whatever conversation he was having about this “sudden” relationship.

You never really understood what they meant until you saw him sprawled out on your bed, gaping hole stuffed full with your cum, and every inch of his skin covered in your initials.

At least they knew he was yours to ruin.

Yours

Yours.

Yours.

That little insatiable monster that can't seem to find rest rises to life again, coaxes you to slot your lips against the older man’s, tongue slipping into his mouth and licking along every nook and crevice, leaving the taste of you behind for anyone that would dare kiss him.

It takes one more kiss before he prys himself away from you, and walks over to the bathroom on shaky steps, the sight of his inked ass is the last thing you see before the door closes behind him.

You slump back into bed with a smile on your face, the taste of him still lingers on your lips, the previous string of events practically burned into your iris and for a second it all feels like a dream that is before you hear your name being shouted behind the bathroom door followed by a string of angry words “why won’t this shit wash off,”

Oh well…

[incognit0slut]

BATTLE SCARS

Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist

What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.

sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming

words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)

a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me

"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."

Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.

One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.

One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?

And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?

"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"

The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"

"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 

Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.

Huh.

So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?

"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."

Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"

"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."

He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.

"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."

Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."

You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.

Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?

When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.

Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."

"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."

"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."

He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."

"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.

Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.

The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.

You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.

You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."

His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.

So it really was about you.

His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"

Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"

He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.

"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.

You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.

His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.

Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.

He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.

"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.

A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.

But sleep didn't want you.

About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.

He hummed in response.

"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.

He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 

"Anything."

"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."

From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."

Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."

He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"

You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.

There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.

"Y-Your scar."

You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"

His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."

Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.

As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.

"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."

His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"

You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."

Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"

You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."

He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"

"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."

Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"

He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."

He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."

You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"

His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.

Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.

"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"

His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.

"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.

Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.

You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.

"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."

A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.

"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."

You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"

You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.

"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"

Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."

"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."

Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.

You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.

You smiled.

Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.

"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.

"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."

It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?

You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.

"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.

"You're.... you're more pretty."

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"

He shook his head.

"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”

The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."

"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."

"Good."

You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.

"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.

You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.

"Do you want to taste me?"

He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."

You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.

"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.

You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."

You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.

A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.

“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.

"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."

You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.

"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.

You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.

It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.

"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.

“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."

He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.

You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.

Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"

He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.

You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.

"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.

And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.

You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"

"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."

You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."

The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."

Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.

"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.

For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"

You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"

"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 

You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."

"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.

You smiled.

"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.

He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.

Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.

"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.

You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."

His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.

You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.

"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.

That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.

The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.

Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.

You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.

Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.

"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.

The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Could you please do a poly marauders+lily with reader having to take some time off of school due to poor mental health/stress! This could be with an eating disorder or just simple depression or something like that. Feel free to adjust this however you like! Love your writings btw💙

AN: Thank you!! 💕 This is so cute I may have gone overboard.

Loving You is Easy

Marauders + Lily x fem!Reader

Summary: Being younger than all your respective partners was never a big deal; until they graduated and you were left behind. As your mental health declined and their lives started without you, a break was needed.

WC: 5.7k

CW: Mentions of Practice kissing, reader gets babied.

The morning light filtered through the large windows of James’s bedroom, the soft warmth of the sun brushing against your skin. Normally, this room was filled with life- James’s laughter, Sirius’s sarcastic remarks, Lily’s quick wit, and Remus’s calm steadiness. But today, it was just you, cocooned in the comforting scent of them, sinking deeper into the bed that had become your refuge.  

James’s Quidditch jersey was bunched in your hands, the fabric soft from years of wear. You’d slipped it on at some point last night, the oversized garment brushing against your thighs as you curled tighter beneath the blanket. Lily’s pillow was tucked under your head, her faint floral scent surrounding you.  

You knew you should get up. But the thought of facing anything beyond these four walls was suffocating. You had already overstayed your welcome- you should be at Hogwarts. In class. The winter hadn't even ended yet and you caved in on yourself.

The door creaked open, and James peeked his head inside, his messy hair sticking up at odd angles. He was always the first to notice when something was off, his intuition as sharp as his loyalty was- unwavering. 

“Hey, love,” He said softly, stepping into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb your cocoon of blankets. “You’ve been in here all morning. Feeling stuck?”  

You nodded faintly, burying your face deeper into Lily’s pillow.  

James gave a heartbroken coo, his hand reaching out to smooth your hair. James's hand lingered in your hair, his fingers carding through the strands as if it might untangle the weight pressing down on you. He tilted his head, a soft, lopsided smile curling his lips despite the crease of worry in his brow.  

“My little brave fox,” he murmured, the nickname rolling off his tongue like a secret he was sharing just with you. “You’ve got no idea how much I love you, do you?”  

You didn’t reply, but your fingers tightened slightly on the jersey bunched in your hands. James’s eyes caught the movement, his chest aching at the sight of you clinging so tightly to anything that might bring you comfort. And it was a piece of him.

“I should really shower,” he said, his voice low, almost to himself. “I’m a right mess after that run.”  

But he made no move to get up. Instead, he leaned down closer, brushing a kiss against your temple, his lips lingering there as he exhaled. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He murmured, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and awe.  

Finally, he forced himself to pull back, though his eyes stayed locked on you. “All right,” He said, his voice soft and coaxing. “Here’s the deal: I’ll go shower, so I don’t stink up the place, and then I’m coming right back here to hold you until you’re ready to take on the world- or until Sirius bursts in and tries to steal you away. Sound good?”  

Your nod was barely a movement, but it was enough to make his heart clench painfully.  

“Good,” He said, a grin breaking through despite the worry etched into his features. “Don’t go anywhere, yeah? Not that you’d want to. You’re in my bed, after all. Best spot in the whole manor.”  

His teasing earned him the faintest twitch of your lips, and his grin widened, his chest swelling with a bittersweet kind of pride.  

“Be right back, love,” He promised, pressing another kiss to your hair before reluctantly standing and heading for the door. He paused in the doorway, turning back for one last look at you, his hand gripping the doorframe as though he couldn’t bear to leave.  

“I mean it,” He said softly. “Bravest little fox I’ve ever known.”  

And with that, he disappeared into the en-suite bathroom.

It wasn't long before Lily came in, her soft footsteps barely audible on the carpet. She carried a steaming mug of tea, the soothing aroma of chamomile filling the air.  

Lily placed the tea on the bedside table with careful precision, as though even the smallest noise might disturb your fragile peace. Her green eyes softened as they took you in- curled up in the bed, buried under layers of blankets, clutching James’s jersey like a lifeline. She crouched down, bringing herself to your level, her voice gentle but purposeful.  

"My sleepy girl," She murmured, her words carrying both affection and worry. “You’ve been working so hard, sweetheart. Too hard.”  

You didn’t respond, but the slight movement of your shoulders, as though trying to disappear further into the bed, told her enough.  

Without another word, Lily stood and walked to the windows. With a flick of her wand, the heavy curtains drew themselves shut, dimming the room to a soft, cozy glow. The harsh winter light was replaced by the flickering warmth of lanterns, which she conjured in the corners of the room, their golden light soothing rather than overwhelming.  

She paused, surveying the space with the critical eye of someone determined to make it perfect. Another flick of her wand, and the fireplace roared to life, its gentle crackle filling the silence.  

When she returned to your side, she adjusted the blanket around you, tucking it under your chin with the utmost care. “There we are,” She said softly. “That’s a bit better, isn’t it?”  

You nodded faintly, though your grip on the jersey didn’t loosen.  

Lily reached for the tea again, this time bringing it closer. “I made this just for you,” She said, holding the mug carefully. “Chamomile, with a touch of honey- exactly how you like it. You don’t have to drink it all right now, but just one sip, love. For me?”  

Her voice was so patient, so kind, that you found yourself leaning up slightly to take the mug. The warmth seeped into your hands, grounding you as you took a small sip.  

“There’s my girl,” Lily cooed, her smile soft and encouraging. “You’re trying, and that’s all I could ever ask of you.” 

Lily didn’t linger with physical affection- she knew you needed space today. Instead, she moved around the room, her actions deliberate and filled with purpose. She tidied the bedside table, arranging your tea and the stack of books James had haphazardly left there. She straightened the extra blanket at the foot of the bed, ensuring you had everything you might need within arm’s reach.  

“Sweetheart,” She said as she worked, her voice gentle but firm. “I need you to hear this. You are not overstaying your welcome. This is your home, just as much as it’s ours. And there’s no clock ticking down on how long you’re allowed to rest.”  

Her words hung in the air, a balm for the guilt you hadn’t been able to voice.  

“You give so much of yourself,” She continued, turning to look at you. “To your studies, to your friends, to us. It’s time to let us give something back.”  

Once the room was to her liking, Lily returned to your side, settling into the chair James kept beside the bed. She didn’t press you to talk or move, simply grabbing her abandoned knitting project and watching you with the kind of quiet determination that made it clear she wasn’t going anywhere.  

“You don’t have to face everything today,” She hummed, looking down at her project and after a while, her voice grew soft- steady. “Some days are for fighting dragons. And some days...” She gestured to the bed and the blankets enveloping you. “Are for letting us do it for you.”  

You didn’t reply, but when she reached for the tea again, you took another sip without hesitation.  

“That’s my good girl,” She whispered, her smile returning. “Just take it one sip at a time, love. I’ll be right here.”  

Sirius burst in next, his energy as uncontainable as ever, though it softened the moment he saw you curled up in the bed. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed.  

“Well, aren’t you a sight,” He teased lightly, though there was no bite in his tone- still earned him a glare from Lily. “What’s the excuse today? Too good for the rest of us? Or is this just another one of your ‘I’m not enough’ days?”  

The humor was sharp, but the tenderness in his voice cracked through your defenses. You peeked out from beneath the blanket, giving him the smallest of glares. 

“There she is,” He chuckled with a smirk, hands on his hips. “You’re lucky you’re adorable, you know. Otherwise, we might get offended by all this moping.”  

Sirius strode over, his smirk fading into something softer as he crouched down to your level, his dark eyes searching yours. There was mischief there, of course, but also something deeper- concern, a kind of devotion that made you feel seen in a way that was both comforting and overwhelming.  

Before addressing you again, Sirius turned to Lily, catching her hand and pressing a dramatic kiss to the back of it. “Don’t look at me like that, Evans,” He murmured, his voice low and teasing. “I’m here to help, not to make trouble. Mostly.”  

Lily arched an eyebrow, but her lips twitched with a smile. “Be good,” She warned lightly, though the fondness in her voice betrayed her.  

“Always,” Sirius replied, leaning forward to kiss her properly this time. It wasn’t quick or casual- it was intense and full of the kind of passion that made you look away instinctively, even though you were used to seeing it between them. When he pulled back, his grin had returned, brighter now.  

“Merlin,” He sighed, turning his attention back to you. “Beautiful things you are. How’d I get so lucky, hmm?”  

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. Sirius Black, the eternal flirt, wasn’t supposed to be this soft. And yet, here he was, looking at you like you were the only thing in the room that mattered.   

He settled himself on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands as he regarded you with a lopsided grin. “You know, you’ve really done it this time,” He chuckled, his tone light but warm. “Stolen James’s jersey, taken over his bed, and now hoarding Lily’s attention. Such a spoiled girl.”

Sirius's grin softened as he leaned down, his lips brushing over the blanket-covered curve of your shoulder. His voice dropped to a whisper, rough with affection and sincerity.  

“I bloody love it,” He murmured, his dark eyes locked on yours. “Such a pretty girl, even when she’s hiding from me.”  

Your breath hitched, though you quickly averted your gaze, burying your face further into Lily’s pillow. Sirius chuckled, the sound low and warm, as though your attempt to retreat only endeared you to him more.  

Lily cleared her throat pointedly, her knitting needles clinking together as she worked. “Sirius Black,” She said with mock severity, though the softness in her voice betrayed her. “If you’re going to flirt, at least make yourself useful.”  

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her, leaning back with that ever-present smirk. “Flirting is useful, Evans. Keeps her smiling, doesn’t it?”  

Lily rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, her gaze flicking back to you. “You’re insufferable,” She muttered, though her lips twitched with a smile.  

Sirius turned back to you, his hand brushing against the blanket as if silently asking permission to stay closer. “She’s just jealous,” He teased lightly. “She can’t stand how good I am at making you smile.”  

When you didn’t reply, his voice softened, and his grin faded into something more vulnerable. “I mean it, though,” He murmured, his tone low and sincere. “I love seeing you get what you deserve. Everything. And I don’t care if you want to hide away in this bed forever, I’ll be right here with you.”  

Lily paused her knitting, her expression softening as she glanced at Sirius. “You’re not as hopeless as you let everyone believe,” She said quietly, the hint of a smile on her lips.  

“Don’t let that get out,” Sirius replied with a wink, though his eyes remained fixed on you. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering for just a moment. “It’s our secret, yeah, love?”  

Only then did you give a shy nod.

Remus entered the room quietly, his presence like the gentle warmth of a winter hearth. His amber eyes swept over the scene- Lily perched in her chair, Sirius lounging on the bed with a familiar smirk, and you cocooned in the blankets, clutching James’s jersey like a lifeline.  

He crossed to Lily first, his movements unhurried, his focus unwavering. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple, the simple gesture filled with quiet affection. Lily looked up at him, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile as she reached up to touch his hand briefly before returning to her knitting.  

Sirius, never one to be outdone, groaned dramatically from his spot on the bed. “Oh, come on, Moony. Where’s my kiss?”  

Remus sighed, his lips twitching in amusement as he turned toward Sirius. “You’re relentless,” He muttered, though the corners of his mouth betrayed his fondness. He leaned down and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to Sirius’s lips, earning a pleased hum from the man sprawled beside you.  

“There. Happy now?” Remus asked, his voice tinged with dry humor.  

Sirius grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Ecstatic. Don’t let it stop there, though.” 

You stayed quiet, sinking further into the blankets as you watched the interactions unfold. Remus hadn’t looked at you yet, hadn’t even acknowledged you, and the knot of guilt in your chest tightened. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was upset with you- if your inability to pull yourself out of this slump was finally wearing on his patience.  

Lily must have noticed the way your fingers tightened on the jersey because she glanced at Remus pointedly. “Moony,” She said softly, her tone a mixture of gentle affection and subtle reprimand.  

Remus’s gaze snapped to you, his amber eyes widening slightly as if realizing his mistake. “Oh, love,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that soothing tone he used when he wanted you to feel safe.

He crouched beside the bed, his hand resting lightly on the edge of the blanket. “I wasn’t ignoring you,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours for any trace of hurt. “I just didn’t want to overwhelm you.”  

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you glanced away, feeling foolish for thinking he’d been upset.  

Remus reached out, his hand hovering near yours before settling gently over it. “I could never be upset with you,” he said, as though he’d read your mind. “I promise.”  

His touch was warm, grounding, and you felt the knot in your chest begin to loosen.  

“You’ve been so strong,” he continued, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, soothing circles. “But you don’t have to be. Not with us.”  

Sirius leaned back, watching the two of you with a faint smile that lacked his usual mischief. “Told you,” he said softly, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “We’re not going anywhere.”  

Lily set her knitting aside and stood, crossing to place a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “She’s been feeling like a burden,” she said quietly, her green eyes meeting his.  

Remus’s brows furrowed, his expression pained. “Love,” He whispered, turning his full attention back to you. “You are never a burden. You’re ours, and we’re yours. That’s all that matters.”  

His words wrapped around you like a second blanket, his steady presence chasing away the lingering shadows. When you finally met his gaze, the soft smile that broke across his face was enough to bring tears to your eyes.  

“There she is,” He murmured, reaching up to brush a tear from your cheek. “That’s my girl.”  

You sniffled, your lips trembling as you whispered, “I thought you were mad at me.”  

Remus shook his head, his hand moving to cradle your cheek. “Never,” he said firmly. “Not in a million years.”  

Lily bent down to kiss your other cheek, her voice gentle. “See? You’ve got us, love. Always.”  

James emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and unruly, wearing nothing but his Quidditch shorts that clung low on his hips. He ran a towel through his hair, a casual grin already forming as he took in the scene: Sirius sitting on the bed beside you, Remus crouched at your side, and Lily perched back in her chair with her knitting. The room was soft with warmth, but James immediately noticed the slight redness in your eyes and the protective way everyone had positioned themselves around you.

“Oi, what’s this?” James said, tossing his towel onto a nearby chair. He crossed the room with his usual exuberance, his hazel eyes flicking between all of you. “You’re all hogging her. My bed, my girl, my jersey- where’s my share of the attention?”

Lily raised an eyebrow, though a small smile played on her lips. “Potter, don’t start.”

James frowned, his gaze finally landing on you fully. His teasing faded the moment he saw the way you were curled into yourself, the oversized jersey swallowing your frame as you clutched it tightly. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning closer. “Hey, what’s going on?” His voice was softer now, full of concern. “You okay, love?”

Sirius leaned back, his playful smirk replaced by a rare seriousness. He exchanged a glance with Lily and Remus before turning back to James. “She’s having a rough one,” Sirius said, his voice low. “Feeling like she’s not enough.”

James’s brows shot up in shock before knitting together in confusion. “Not enough?” He turned his full attention to you, his hazel eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? You- ”

He cut himself off, as if the thought was too absurd to finish. Instead, he shuffled closer, placing a hand over yours where it gripped his jersey. “Why would you ever think something like that?” His voice cracked slightly, the intensity of his feelings bleeding through. “You’re- Merlin, love, you’re everything. Don’t you know that?”

Your eyes welled up again, and you averted your gaze, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of their care. “You’re all out there, doing amazing things,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Graduated, working, making a difference. And I’m just... stuck. Still in school, not knowing what I’m doing with my life. I feel like I’ll never catch up to any of you.”

James looked like he’d been physically struck. He opened his mouth, closed it, then looked around at the others for help. “Did you hear that?” He finally asked, addressing the room as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “She thinks she’s not enough. Her.” He gestured toward you, his expression almost comically outraged. “How’s that possible?”

Lily sighed, placing her knitting aside. “We’re working on it, James,” She said gently. “But maybe you could use less dramatics and more comfort?”

James blinked, then seemed to deflate. He turned back to you, his hand now cradling your cheek. “You listen to me, and you listen good,” He said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “You are the bravest, kindest, most wonderful person I’ve ever met. You make every single one of us better just by being you. And I don’t care if you’re still in school or taking a break or deciding to be a bloody Muggle librarian- whatever you do, it’ll be brilliant, because you’re brilliant.”

You let out a soft, shaky laugh despite yourself, and James’s eyes lit up. “There’s my girl,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “No one’s allowed to make you feel like you’re not enough, love. Not even you.”

Sirius snorted, though his grin was soft. “James Potter, defender of self-esteem. Who would’ve thought?”

Remus reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he gave James a knowing look. “For once, I’m not going to argue with him,” Remus said softly, his hand lingering against your cheek. “He’s right, you know. We wouldn’t be us without you.”

Lily leaned forward, her green eyes warm with affection. “And we’re not moving forward without you. You set your pace, sweetness, and we’ll match it. Always.”

James looked between them, then back at you, his grin returning. “See? We’re a package deal. You’re stuck with us, love. No escaping it.”

You couldn’t help but smile through your tears, the warmth of their unwavering love wrapping around you like a shield. For the first time in weeks, the weight on your chest felt just a little lighter.

“It's not too much?” You muttered, sinking into the sheets as James' arm wrapped around your middle. Muttering something to the others about hogging you. 

“What's that, my sweetness?” Lily furrowed her brow at you as you shied away from her look. 

“Having to.. do this. Dote on me every time even the slightest thing goes wrong.”

James froze, his arm tightening around you slightly as he processed your words. His hazel eyes widened in genuine confusion, and he blurted, “What?”

Sirius snorted, his smirk quickly turning to a full-on grin as he lounged back against the headboard. “She’s lost it,” he declared dramatically, waving a hand. “Thinks she’s a burden. Absolute nonsense.”

Remus gave him a mild look but didn’t disagree. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his hand still resting on yours. “Love,” he said softly, his voice carrying that calming steadiness you always found comforting. “Why would you ever think that? We want to take care of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tightening on James’s jersey. “It just feels like too much sometimes,” You admitted hesitantly. “Every time I feel like this... every time something goes wrong, it’s like you have to put everything on hold for me. I don’t want to be that person.”

Lily set down her knitting with deliberate care, her green eyes narrowing slightly- not in anger, but in the kind of determination that made it clear she wasn’t letting this go. “Sweetheart,” She said firmly, leaning forward. “Do you remember the first time we really talked? Before all of this- before we were close?”

You blinked at her, startled by the question. “I... kind of?”

Lily smiled faintly, though there was a bittersweetness in her expression. “It was in our dorm, during fifth year. I had just gotten a letter from Petunia.”

The memory slowly surfaced, and your heart ached at the thought. You remembered that night vividly now: Lily sitting on her bed, trembling with silent tears as she clutched a crumpled piece of parchment. You’d found her there, completely undone by her sister’s cruel words.  

“She’d written to tell me how much she hated me,” Lily continued, her voice soft but steady. “How I was a freak for being at Hogwarts. That I’d ruined everything for her. And I- I believed her, just for a moment. It was awful.”

You remembered sitting down beside her, your heart breaking for her pain. “I- I stayed with you,” you said quietly, piecing the memory together. “I hugged you, I think? And we talked for hours?”

Lily nodded, her smile softening. “You did more than that, love. You made me tea- awful tea, by the way, but I drank it anyway. And you told me stories about your family, about how proud they were of you, just to remind me that I had people who cared about me. You stayed up all night with me, even though I told you to go to bed.”

“I remember,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes again.

Lily reached over, her hand warm as it brushed against your knee. “You didn’t think it was too much then, did you? Taking care of me when I needed it?”

You shook your head. “No, of course not. You needed someone.”

“And now you do,” she said simply. “And we’re here. Just like you were for me. That’s what this is, love. It’s not about being too much. It’s about love.”

Remus’s soft chuckle broke the silence that followed Lily’s words, drawing your teary eyes toward him. He was leaning back slightly, his long fingers absently running along the edge of the blanket near your hand.

“Since we’re doing memory lane,” He began, his voice calm but with a faint note of regret, “do you remember that time in the boys’ dorm? It must’ve been third year. It was just us, and I snapped at you over- what was it? Something stupid. A book, I think?”

Your brows furrowed as you tried to place the memory. Slowly, the image came back: the two of you in the quiet of the boys’ dormitory, Remus unusually tense as he rummaged through his belongings. You’d picked up one of his books, curious, and asked an innocent question about it, only for him to lash out sharply- so unlike his usual gentle self.

“I remember,” you murmured softly. “You were really upset.”

“I was a complete prat,” He huffed, his amber eyes meeting yours with a mix of apology and gratitude. “It was a couple of days before the full moon, and I was already on edge, but you didn’t know that. Hell, none of you knew yet. And instead of being angry with me- or worse, scared- you stayed.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the rawness in his voice. “You looked like you needed someone,” you said simply, echoing Lily’s earlier words. “I could tell something was wrong.”

Remus’s lips quirked in a small smile, though his eyes shone with unshed emotion. “You didn’t just stay. You sat with me, kept asking gentle questions until I calmed down. You even brought me one of James’s chocolate frogs- though you tried to hide the wrapper like you hadn’t nicked it.”

A small laugh bubbled up from your throat, the memory vivid now. “I thought he’d notice if the stash got too low.”

“He definitely did,” Sirius interjected with a grin. “He’s still salty about it.”

Remus ignored him, his focus entirely on you. “The point is, you stayed when I didn’t deserve it. When I wasn’t kind, when I didn’t have the words to explain what was really wrong- you stayed. You always have.”

He leaned forward, his hand brushing against yours again, grounding you. “And now, it’s our turn. You don’t have to say the right thing or be the strong one. You don’t have to do anything but let us stay with you. Just like you did for me.”

Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Instead, you nodded, your fingers brushing against his in a quiet acknowledgment. 

Sirius let out a low whistle, cutting through the quiet moment as he stretched out on the bed beside you. His dark eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was a softness to his expression that tempered it. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but tinged with something deeper, “if we’re sharing stories of how this one”- he nudged your arm gently- “has saved our sorry hides, I’ve got a good one.”

You glanced at him, your brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Sirius smirked, leaning back against the headboard. “I’m talking about how you pulled off the impossible- getting me and Regulus to talk without trying to hex each other.”

The memory came back slowly, hazy around the edges but vivid in its heart. You and Regulus had become friends in your third year, a surprising bond that Sirius had always half-envied, half-admired. Regulus had refused to speak to Sirius for years, his bitterness over his brother’s rebellion cutting deep. But on Sirius’s birthday in your fifth year, you’d orchestrated something you hadn’t even told him about until much later.

“You mean when I gave Regulus your gift?” You asked hesitantly, a flicker of guilt crossing your face. “I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do.”

“Didn’t know?” Sirius scoffed, sitting up straighter. “Love, it was brilliant. You handed him the gift and said- what was it again?” He snapped his fingers, grinning. “‘This doesn’t have to mean anything, but it might mean everything.’”

You flushed, your fingers tightening on James’s jersey. “I was just trying to make him see that you cared.”

Sirius’s grin softened, his voice dipping into something warmer, more sincere. “And he did. Merlin, he did. That was the first time we actually talked without shouting at each other. He came to me that night, you know? Told me about the gift- about you giving it to him. Said he’d been wrong about me.”

Your eyes widened. “He never told me that.”

Sirius nodded, his expression serious now. “He wouldn’t, would he? Too much like admitting he was wrong. But he did. And you- ” He leaned closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You were the one who made it happen. You gave me my brother back, even if it was just for a little while.”

You felt the sting of tears again, but Sirius’s grin returned, lighting up the room like it always did. “So don’t you dare think you’re too much, yeah? You’re just enough. Always have been.”

James, still holding you close, huffed dramatically. “Honestly, at this rate, we should start writing all this down. ‘A Hundred Ways She Saved Our Sorry Arses,’ by the Marauders and Co.”

Remus chuckled, his hand still resting lightly on yours. “Might be a bestseller.”

James cleared his throat, his cheeks turning an uncharacteristic shade of pink as he glanced around the room. “Erm, well, like when she, uh, helped me with- ” He coughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding everyone’s gaze.  

Lily perked up, her eyes narrowing with amused suspicion. “Helped you with what, Potter?”  

“Nothing!” James blurted out quickly, his voice rising an octave. “Nothing at all! Definitely not learning how to- ”  

“Oh, this I’ve got to hear,” Sirius interjected with a wicked grin, sitting up straighter. “Come on, Prongs, out with it. What was it? Dancing lessons? Your terrible piano skills?”  

Remus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but said nothing, letting Sirius poke and prod instead.  

James groaned, burying his face in his hands for a moment before finally peeking through his fingers to look at you. “You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”  

You grinned softly, the smallest flicker of amusement breaking through the fog that had weighed you down all day. “Not a chance.”  

James sighed dramatically, throwing himself back against the headboard. “Fine! She- ” He paused, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself for impact. “She helped me learn how to kiss, all right?”  

There was a beat of stunned silence, followed by Sirius’s loud, delighted laughter. He doubled over, clutching his stomach as he tried to catch his breath. “You- what?” he choked out between fits of laughter. “She gave you kissing lessons? Oh, this is brilliant!”  

“Shut up, Padfoot!” James snapped, his face now a deep crimson. He turned to you, his hazel eyes pleading. “You’re not going to let him tease me forever about this, are you?”  

You bit back a laugh, the memory of that day rushing back to you like a warm breeze. “You were hopeless,” You said lightly, a teasing lilt in your voice.  

James groaned again, covering his face with both hands. “I wasn’t hopeless. I just... needed a bit of practice!”  

“Hopeless,” You repeated, grinning now as Lily let out a soft laugh.  

“What’s this about practice?” She asked, her green eyes sparkling with curiosity.  

You leaned back against the pillows, feeling lighter than you had all day. “It was fifth year. James had this huge crush on someone- ”  

“Lily,” Sirius supplied gleefully.  

“Shut it!” James hissed, his ears turning pink now.  

“- and he was panicking because he’d never kissed anyone before,” you continued, ignoring James’s protests. “So, he asked me to help.”  

Sirius looked like Christmas had come early. “And you said yes? Oh, Prongs, you’re lucky she’s nicer than me. I would’ve hexed you for asking.”  

You laughed softly, your voice growing more confident. “It was actually really sweet. He was so nervous. I had to practically drag him to the Astronomy Tower so no one would see us.”  

“I’m right here, you know,” James grumbled, though his lips twitched with a reluctant smile.  

Remus chuckled quietly, his amber eyes warm as he listened. “So, how did it go?”  

You smirked at James, enjoying his obvious discomfort. “He was a fast learner. By the end of it, I think I told him he’d do just fine.”  

“You did,” James muttered, finally lowering his hands to reveal a sheepish grin. “And then you told me to stop panicking and just talk to her like a normal person.”  

“And did you?” Lily asked, her tone both amused and affectionate.  

James grinned, turning to her. “I think it worked out, don’t you?”  

Lily rolled her eyes but leaned over to kiss his cheek, her smile softening. “I suppose it did.”  

Sirius shook his head, still grinning. “Unbelievable. I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’re out here getting kissing lessons. Prongs, you’re a menace.”  

James shrugged, his grin widening. “You're just jealous I got to her first.”

Remus leaned closer to you, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “And you didn’t charge him a single Galleon for the service? You’re too kind.”  

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “It was worth it just to see him blush this much.”  

James groaned again, but the warmth and laughter in the room were undeniable, wrapping around you like a blanket. For the first time in a while, you felt lighter- like maybe you weren’t so lost after all.

As the laughter settled, you found yourself leaning into James’s embrace, the warmth of your loves surrounding you like a safety net you hadn’t realized you needed. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but with them by your side, you knew you’d figure it out- one day, one step, one laugh at a time.

[earthtooz]

ratio is jealous bc im weak to him being jealous om, gn!reader but they wear a dress, fluff !!

“darling, this is a serious matter and i expect you to treat it as such,” veritas scolds as his face hovers inches away from yours, his body keeping yours captive against the softness of your shared bed.

“serious? well i think you seriously need to get over it. i spent a lot on that dress and i’ve been looking forward to wearing it to the gala all fortnight,” you scold, trying to look stern with the man hovering above you. “even if you don’t like it, i’m wearing it.”

“don’t like it?" he parrots, utterly appalled. "you’ve got the wrong idea. on the contrary, i think i like it too much.”

your hand snakes up to pinch his heavily defined deltoid. “then what’s the problem?”

“because others will love it just as much as i do.” there’s distaste in his voice when he tells you that, and the way his eyebrows furrow are similar to that of when a student asks him a question that he deems ridiculous.

"sure thing," you roll your eyes at his statement, clearly not believing him, and it vexes him that you are not aware of your ability to capture the attention of bystanders just by entering a room. veritas has witnessed it himself a multitude of times before he had become yours.

the scholar would seethe an envious green whilst keeping an eye on everyone who'd approach you, absolutely burning with jealousy because he was not the sole man of your attention. he'd lament over who he'd become, who you made him become whilst glaring at anyone who came near.

then, you'd smile at him and the fury he felt prior melts away because none of them could ever compete against someone as esteemed as the veritas ratio for your affections.

he's grateful that you saw through those idiots and chose him to be your partner in the end, but aeons, that has not done anything to cure his temper. years of treading the liminal space between friends and something more for too long can make any individual antsy.

"either way, i'm wearing the dress."

"fine. then i should forewarn you that you may find me overbearing tonight, and to not blame me for it."

his arms that were holding up his weight slip when your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you. veritas feels a little lighter when you litter kisses on his cheeks. "no need to be jealous, ratio, i'm all yours."

(true to his word, he does not part from you that evening, acting as an accessory to your outfit. he clings to you, hand never leaving your skin, always moving from your wrist to your waist to your shoulder. you can’t stray from him for more than an arm's length because you’re always tug back towards him before you can get too far, and then he'd follow you to your destination.

outsiders may observe and call him clingy, but judging by the carefree smile on your face and the way you’d beam at your lover every time he would pull you back to him, it doesn’t seem to bother you too much.)

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hi! Can i ask for a self aware twst when the reader surprises adopted Silver as their son. Like just pointing at him and saying 'you are my child now' with Silver, Lilia and Sebek. Hope you have a good day!

Hehe. Anon, you know what you are doing. In fact, I would say you even want the chaos. And for that I love you come here so I can hug you.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Diasomnia chapter spoilers (Lilias part, maybe Sebek), religion, violence, isolation, kidnapping, obsessive behavior

Lilia Vanrouge/(Platonic) Silver/Sebek Zigvolt-Adopting Silver

Oh ok. Cool cool coolcoolcoolcoolcool

Well, at least that one room dedicated to you in the form of an altar can now be used for more practical uses (finally)

When Lilia heard you say those words and point at his son, he fell from the chandelier he was dangling from

Not only did he have to navigate through not accidentally telling his son that he was the blood related son of an enemy general and that exactly this general killed Malleus mom

But also that he had now a second parent that also happened to be god

Mhm totally normal

Conversations to strangers about his family were already playing out like this in his head:

Hi, I am Lilia Vanrouge, yes the one in your history book, this is my son Silver, yes he looks like a certain knight, and my lovely partner and also parent of this lovely human, yes, FU**ING GOD THEMSELVES

Ah yes, sitting in church will totally not be awkward after this

Bro legit sits you down with a pen and paper, asking you to sign the marriage certificate

Asks you what flowers you want to have on your wedding. Doesn't matter if you are a woman, man or identify as something else, he is planning that

Also has already planned out how to get you into the Valley of Thorns without anyone noticing

Because no matter how devoted he is to you, he will always be too greedy to share your attention with someone else

You could have said this as a joke or some other protective instinct towards the silver-haired male but all that man's father hears is a marriage proposal

Lilia is just happy that you feel some sort of positive way to his family member (makes things easier when you are stuck in that cabin)

I mean, he did see Silver as a present from you, a child meant to bring him back to the light after being so long in the shadow of war

And now the three of you were together! How lovely!

Which would mean that you planned this all along. Dear Overseer, if you liked the idea of you being a family you could have just told him so

He will be the best partner to raise a child together you could dream of

And should someone dare to interrupt the perfect, peaceful life you three (plus two more) had, he wouldn't mind swinging that sword again

Wait what?

What do you mean with that?

Are you sure you want him to be your son? Really?

Apparently he was not the only one surprised since he could hear the thud of his father falling to the ground behind him and Seek screaming somewhere behind him

Be prepared for a silver haired knight to look at you with the biggest puppy eyes and ask "Do you really want me as you son?"

Critical hit! Someone call a doctor. I think the Valley of Thorns god can be killed by cuteness

After that he is glued to your side (even though you have to part sooner or later since he is not living in Ramshackle)

One morning you woke up to the guy standing there with some food being like "I made some food."

Like where the Heck did he even get the keys for the dorm? (He broke in through a hole in the ceiling)

Silver always comes running to you whenever he does something and wants praises

Once he was best in one of his classes and he stood there with the report like he could turn into a dog and get headpats from you any second

But, as I am sure you are aware of, this is a blog with yandere themes and we have to say goodbye to the fluff at some point

That sword training comes in handy is all I'm saying

I mean, he has probably enough strength to break someone's leg with his bare hands by simply applying some pressure

And that one Diasomnia student that tried to take his son-status away from him was found again in a not-so-compatible-state-with-life kind of situation

I'm letting you imagine what happened

Like Lilia he is ready to burn everyone who dares to interfere with your little family

The forests of his homeland are pretty though so no need to worry about the appearance of your surroundings once they bring you to your new home (who needs social interaction anyways?)

A second of silence

And then the screaming started

“OH HOW KIND OF OUR OVERSEER! TO SHOW A MORTAL THEIR KINDNESS AND CARING SIDE!”

Seek would be lying if he said that he wasn't surprised

You, aka the Overseer, aka some higher being, AKA GOD, were known in the Valley of Thorns to be kind and caring, yet also distant and never approaching others directly

But then you literally adopt someone, making that person someone in your inner cycle?

Well, if Sebek knew one thing then that those Priests were going to have a crisis as soon as they learned about this

Totally not jealous

He would try to get closer to you since, apparently, you did allow others to get close to you

But he was happy as long as you were

After all, he was now the (not-so-official appointed) shield of the Valley of Thorns, something he got passed on by his grandfather

So of course he couldn't be family with you

That didn't mean he couldn't “help” you

Someone intruded on that dinner you had with Lilia and Silver?

Ouch… that punch must have hurt

Whenever Silver or his Father had to interfere because someone else came too close then they were some incredibly slick (looking at you Rook) or lucky person

Don't let his loud mouth fool you

This crocodile has done unmentionables in your name in order to make things easier for your new found family

For what? Oh you know, becoming his neighbor back home… forever

[darlingdreadwrites]

Awkward

pairing: Ticci Toby x GN!Reader

summary: You had planned to hang out in the woods on your day off, but the sound of Toby training reminds you of an awkward encounter. Confronting him leads to other things.

contains: a nervous toby, a little bit of a confession, toby's in loooooove, kissing

warnings: toby walks in on you half naked (encounter is under the RED DIVIDER!! skip it if you don't want to read it cuz it is kinda NSFW), awkward talks

wordcount: 1.5k

masterlist

a.n: needed to feed my toby fiends (i missed writing about him). also, for the EJ request, i am working on it, don't worry babes

The dark blades of grass tickled you through your long-sleeved shirt. You could smell the crisp autumn air as the cold kissed at your skin. Today wasn't the worst, you noted. You even had the right amount of sun. The orange-red leaves were cushioning your head, and these woods had never looked more beautiful. It was perfect. 

Thwack. Thwack.

It was perfect. 

You try to ignore the sound of Toby practicing his aim. You want peace and not be reminded of the awkward encounter you two shared. You shiver internally at the memory.

Having been tasked with another mission, you wanted to throw the biggest tantrum. It felt like you had just gotten back from one. As much as you might've enjoyed hunting, your body would get so sore. 

That’s why you were petulantly - and very slowly - getting dressed. You timed it; how long you should put an article of protective clothing to drag it out as much as possible. You just had no idea that this wasn't a solo mission for you. 

You were new. At least, new to Toby. He was used to the timely manner that Tim and Brian would respond when on a mission. That’s all he would remember until his eyes glazed over, leaving him as little more than a puppet to the Operator. He honestly thought you had forgotten about getting partnered with him and about your kill. He was right about one thing. That's why, unbeknownst to both of you, Toby was rounding the corner to barge into your room and yell at you like he used to be yelled at for taking too long.

Your bedroom door had swung open, and a heavy silence came afterward. You - being in the middle of putting your shirt on - had stopped to whip your head in the direction of the now-open door. If only your reflexes had the decency to let your shirt fall all the way.

Toby floundered, his mouth opening and closing dumbly. He didn't know why he couldn't - or why he even needed to - say anything. He could just close the door and not stare at you like he'd never seen a half-naked human body before. A very attractive half-naked human body that belonged to a very attractive human he had a massive crush on. 

He realized that now as the two of you stared at each other for a comically long time. His throat felt like it was the dryest it had ever been, and he worked to stop a heart attack from ensuing - and his dick from getting hard. But his eyes were struggling to stay glued to your face and not the way that your chest was on full display. He wanted to rush in so badly and squish his face against your - nope.

“Ooooh, fuh-fuck,” he whimpered. From embarrassment, you hoped. He squeaked out an apology before slamming the door shut.

Toby almost messed up the whole operation that day. You knew it had something to do with the incident, but neither of you wanted to address it at all. 

That was the whole reason Toby was throwing his hatchets like no tomorrow. You had to stop Tim from beating him into a bloody pulp. He said that if Toby liked his hatchets so much, he should learn to not fuck up his throws. He had no idea of what nightmare he had unleashed for anyone in the younger man’s vicinity. 

You try to shut out the repetitive sound of steel meeting wood. And the heavy, breathy grunts that came out of him, but you weren't going to get into that. As much as your brain screamed at you to ignore his presence altogether, a very loud, small part of you wanted to talk to him. You only recognized that as wanting to yell at him for being annoying. 

After a few more grueling seconds, you sit up. You internally hype yourself up to confront him as you stand up. You reach behind you to brush off any leaves or dirt that stuck to you. 

You'd only made it halfway to him when he heard the crunch of leaves. He knew it was you. Jesus, had he memorized the sound of you walking? How pathetic could he be? He contemplated scrambling in the opposite direction and leaving behind all his stuff for a moment. But when he saw your face come into view, he was stuck. Rooted, planted in his spot, and at your mercy. 

You offer a small, awkward smile before speaking up. “Could you –“

“I-is it the-the…” he trails off, glancing at the hatchets.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat. “Yeah, it’s the… it’s pretty loud.”

“My…my bad.”

“No, it’s – it’s fine, really, just… ya’know…”

Toby nods, grunting softly as he dislodges a hatchet from a very abused stump. He – pretends – to inspect it for a moment. “I have to-have to practice. I can’t hhhhelp how loud it-it is.”

You blink, taken aback by his defensiveness. “I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

“I’m-I’m just sssayin’ that if it’s bo-bothering you, you cuh-can go back to the-the cabin,” he almost mumbles the last part when he sees the look on your face.

“Ooo-kay,” you turn to leave, not wanting to deal with this.

“Wait – wait!” Toby drops his hatchet and takes two big steps closer to you. “Ssssorry, that didn’t-didn’t come… out right.”

“No, I understood.”

“Then why ar-are you making thuh-that face.”

“What – “ you can feel your cheeks start to warm up. “What face, Toby?”

He points at you with a gloved finger, his right brow twitches. “That-that face.”

“I don’t make any face.”

“Yeah, you duh-do. Happens a lot-lot when you talk to mmme.”

Oh, you need to get out of here. Like, right now.

“Won’t look at you again, then.”

You go to leave again but get stopped by a hand on your arm. It’s warm – he’s warm – and your brain almost short-circuits because of it. It’s gentle, more than you thought he could be. You can feel the involuntary movements due to his tics, but you can tell he’s being careful with you.

“It’s not-not a bad th-thing, or whate-whatever,” he lets his arm fall to his side like he just realized what he’d done. “Just… nuh-notice it, ‘s all.”

“You’ve stared at me enough to notice that?” You scoff, intending to tease him, but your voice comes off a little shaky.

Toby doesn’t respond immediately – he just shifts a little to get closer to you. He doesn’t trust himself to speak because he knows he would’ve immediately said yes.

Yes, he stared at you enough to notice that. Yes, he actually, really liked your face. Yes, he’d thought about kissing your face many times. Yes, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sight of you when he opened your door.

But he couldn’t just say that. You always seemed annoyed, or tense, when he talked to you. And even then, you two didn’t talk a lot. Toby, not fond of being in the cabin for too long, was always outside. He noticed that you mostly stayed inside – preferring the comfort of your room. Part of him wanted to experience that with you. He hadn’t had any type of comfort in a while.

Toby realized that he must be freaking you out with how long he was staring, but – wow, when had your face gotten so close? Toby couldn’t believe that not only was he leaning in, but so were you. It seemed like an invisible magnet was pulling your faces closer until he could feel your breath on his face and smell your heavenly scent. A scent that he would only be blessed with every time you walked by. But now it wasn’t a fleeting aroma. No, it was so much stronger than he ever hoped it could be.

For a moment, all you could hear was the wind and the rustling of the trees in response to it. You couldn’t help but feel it all be stripped away. As if everything had disappeared, leaving just you, him, and this moment. You both paused before any contact could be made. Your eyes flickered up to Toby’s, and he did the same before your gaze fell back to his mouth. You always admired how pink they looked, so kissable. Oh, god, were you going to kiss him?

He steps a little closer – he’s inches away from you now – his head tilting slightly. His lips part, and it causes you to swallow involuntarily. Your brows pinch together, and you look back up at him. The sight has him yearning to grab your face and planting a long, bruising kiss to your lips.

You feel your pulse thrumming as he leans in to close that last inch. His lips press onto yours softly – almost tentative – and then his hand finds yours. The rough texture of his glove rubs against your skin as he pulls you closer. You can just feel how much he’s holding back – holding everything in his power to not brush his tongue against your bottom lip.

When you finally break apart, neither of you speaks. He smiles widely, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he almost looks absolutely adorable. Until he opens his mouth, that is.

“I knew-knew you liiiiiked meee,” he sang, shimmying his shoulders a little.

You almost punched him.

But, in the end, kissing him again would satisfy the two of you way better.

[acesofspadess]

My Angel

Lando Norris x Black!VS Angel!reader

warnings: tooth rotting fluff

a/n: why was this actually so cute???

yourusername posted to their stories!

Replies:

Landonorris: I love you so much! Will be watching from my hotel room!

Alexsandrasaintmleux: so proud of you! 🪽

Rebeccadonaldson: 🪽 🪽 🪽

Lilyzheimer: you’ll be amazing!

Danielriccardo: don’t fall

Maxfewtrell: you’re going to hate me

“Hi, baby!” You smiled widely looking at Lando throught your phone. “Hi, love!” He smiled wider at hearing your voice. “Did you get my flowers?” He asked and you nodded, flipping the camera to show him the pink tulips that were wrapped in a beautiful paper. “I’m sorry I can’t be there baby.” He sighed sadly, but you shook your head. “Don’t be sorry, we both have priorities, but I will see you as soon as this is over right?” She promised him. “Yeah, you will.” He said before there was a lot of shouting and flashing lights coming from his picture. “Lando? Where are you?”

“Sorry, baby, Have to go! Love you!”

Maia stared at her phone as the call ended. “Okay then.” She set her phone down as her glamsquad chuckled. “That boy.” Elliot– your makeup artist- laughed. He was apart of your personal glam squad and was there with you at almost every event you went to. “He’s something alright.” You laughed.

“We are backstage with Y/N L/N! This is so exciting! Her Debut Victoria Secret Fashion Show! How do you feel?” Tefi asked you and you screamed lightly. “I am so excited!” You said straightaway. “As you said it’s my first time ever doing Victoria Secret. It’s just going to be fabulous. I just can't wait to walk with all the icons. I have wings!” You said breathlessly in shock.

Tefi laughed at your dramatics. “That’s always been a dream of mine so…” You bit your tongue excitdley. “Wait, give me a hint about your wings.” Tefi asked quietly. “Ooh- um…” You thought, “Big and shiny.” You concluded. “Oooh, okay, okay. Are there going to be any familiar faces in the crowd?” She asked and you smiled.

“My parents are here, which is exciting, but it is a race week so that group will not be here.” You said with a frown that Tefi also shared with you. “I know Lando is cheering you on though!” She said happily. “I’m sure he is. He’s my biggest supporter and I love him.” You smiled. “Well, last but not least. What would you say to anyone who wants to become a Victoria Secret model?”

You thought about it before answering. “Well, I am here for being authentically myself. That’s something every angel should know. Be yourself and do what you love. You are gorgeous just as you are. Never be afraid to be yourself, just because no one has ever been you before, doesn’t mean you can’t be. Never forget how gorgeous you are!” You pointed to the camera with a wink. 

On the pink carpet: 

"Wow! Such a large group we have here!" Olivia, the interviewer, said with a chuckle as the camera panned over the smiling faces of Lando and his friends. The drivers and their partners were all dressed to the nines, their presence drawing plenty of attention as they gathered on the pink carpet.

Lando grinned and rubbed the back of his neck, his excitement barely contained. "Yeah, I guess we brought the whole gang out tonight!" he laughed. "It’s not every day we get to surprise Y/N like this, so we thought, why not go all out?"

Olivia beamed at the group. "I love that you all made the effort, especially during race week! It’s not exactly a light time for you all." She raised an eyebrow playfully. "So, Lando, whose idea was it to pull off this surprise?"

"Honestly, it was a bit of a team effort," Lando admitted. "We all knew how much this meant to Y/N, and she was kind of bummed when she thought none of us could make it." He glanced at Max F. , who gave a knowing nod. "I was always going to come and surprise her, but I think it was Lewis who actually threw out the idea for all of us to come, but once it was in the air, we all just jumped on board. We coordinated our schedules, got permission from the teams—some logistical magic had to happen," he added with a chuckle. "But it was so worth it."

Olivia tilted her head, intrigued. "Y/N has no idea you guys are here, does she?"

Lando shook his head. "Nope, not a clue," he said, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I facetimed her from the car, hoping she would think I was headed to the hotel.” He laughed. “She’s gonna be so shocked when she sees us in the audience." There was a hint of affection in his voice as he spoke. "She’s worked really hard for this, and I just wanted to make sure she knew how proud we all are of her."

"That's incredibly sweet," Olivia commented. "It’s clear there’s a lot of love and support in this group. And with so many of you here, it’s almost like a little F1 family reunion."

"Yeah, it kinda feels that way!" Lando agreed, glancing around at his friends. "It’ll be fun to see how Y/N reacts—though I’m not sure if she’ll be more excited or nervous seeing all of us watching her!"

The other drivers chuckled, sharing a look that showed just how much they enjoyed being part of the surprise. Olivia smiled warmly at Lando and the group. "Well, I have a feeling she’s going to love it. I can’t wait to see the moment she spots you all out there."

Lando’s grin widened, a mix of anticipation and pride in his expression. "Neither can I. It’s going to be a night to remember, that’s for sure."

The runway:

As you stepped onto the runway, the lights catching the metalic of your wings, you felt the excitement pulse through you. Each stride was powerful, confident, the rhythmic click of your heels drowning under the live performance and the cheers from the crowd surrounding you. But then, amidst the applause and flashing cameras, a familiar sound catches your ear—voices cheering just a little louder than the rest. 

You glance to your left, and there they are—Lando standing and clapping- and the entire crew, clapping from their seats, grinning from ear to ear. Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn't miss a step. Instead, you let a playful smile dance across your lips, keeping your gaze fixed on them as you waved with both arms to the audience, but your group knew it was for them. 

As you reached the end of the runway, you paused and struck your final pose, arching your back ever so slightly to accentuate the curve of your wings, hands resting on your hips. You held the pose, eyes glancing at all the strategically placed cameras. 

Turning on your heel, you began the walk back, your steps just as graceful as before, the cheers still ringing out. You take one last look over your shoulder at the crowd—at them—before disappearing backstage, your heart racing with exhilaration.

landonorris posted to their story!

yourusername posted to their story!

When the show had ended you were throwing your final items in your bag as someone wrapped their arms around you. “Aah!” You screamed through laughter knowing exactly who it was. “Lando!” You scolded gently as he put you down. “Did you really think we would miss this?” He asked his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “Well, yes.” You nodded your head and he laughed before leaning down to kiss you.

“Everyone’s outside waiting for you. Come on.” He grabbed your bag as you grabbed your tulips. “You did amazing tonight!” You both turned and saw the Hadid sisters coming up. “Thank you so much. That means so much to me.” You said mildly star struck. You ended up taking a picture with them, and then Adriana, Tyra, Barbara -who you bonded over being surprised by your significant others with- Jasmine, and Alex Cosani, who you had become very close with over the whole show period.

“You ready?” Lando asked you as you made it to the stage door. “Ready.” You nodded. As Lando opened the door many lights blinded you both. You waved to all the fans who were lined up outside. You signed a few photos and got a few pictures before you were running up to all your friends in a giant group hug.

“I can’t believe you guys did this for me.” You laughed as you all started walking away. “Of course we would come!” Alexandra said, laying a head on your shoulder. “Thank you all so much. It means the world to me.” Lewis came and wrapped an arm around her shoulder when Alex lifted her head. “I had to make sure we supported you. This was all my idea!”

“Hey!” They all laughed when they heard Lando.

Yourusername

liked by victoriassecret and others

What an unreal moment this was!!! ✨I've watched this clip the whole flight from NewYork to Austin and I'm still in awe. So much work and dedication went into this and I couldn't be prouder. Walking that stage alogside a group of the most incredible women, I carried my purpose with me representing you all✨

'just because no has done you before, doesn't mean you can't'

@/victoriassecret 🪽

Thank you to my lover- and Lewis- for coming out to surprise me!

View comments

landonorris My Angel 🪽

↳yourusername my lover

alexandrasaintmleux such an experience seeing you walk! 🪽

- yourusername my girlfriend!

-landonorris 🤨

-charles_leclerc just let it happen mate

rebeccadonaldson gorgeous girl! 🪽

-yourusername thank you for coming busy girl!

carmenmmundt you looked so amazing! 🪽

-yourusername i love you!

lilymhe so happy I got to watch you! 🪽

-yourusername I love you 

lilyzneimer you looked so pretty! 🪽

-yourusername I can’t believe you flew out just to see me, I love you

-oscarpiastri um, hello

-yourusername like I said, just to see me

kellypiquet So proud of you! 💖 P wore her wings from home

-yoursuername thank you mama! Tell P i love her!

francisca.cgomez Watching you walk was pure magic! Those wings were everything! 😍✨

-yourusername you are everything!

pietra.pilao Still can’t believe we got to see you shine like that! You’re an angel! 🪽

-yourusername I hadn’t seen you in forever! I’m so glad you came

leahkateb you were breathtaking! 💕

-yourusername 🩵🩵🩵 i love you!

-username4 Ariana?? What are you doing here?

serenapage The energy you brought to the runway was unreal!

-yourusername channelled my inner Serena 🤎

janacraig_  I can’t stop replaying your walk! You looked so confident and gorgeous! 😍

-yourusername from the Barbie herself 💗

gigihadid So glad we got to share the runway, gorgeuos! 

-yourusername omg!! thank you!

bellahadid You looked stunning! Can’t wait to walk with you again! 

-yourusername that would be a dream

alexcosani That walk was everything! So proud to call you a friend! 💞

-yourusername I’m so proud of us, love you bestie

jastookes You were meant to shine!

-yourusername learned it from you

realbarbarapalvin true VS angel! 

-yourusername omg! This is everything

adrianalima Loved walking with you! You inspired all of us! Keep being fabulous! Passing the crown to you

-landonorris she threw her phone across the room, please give her 5 minutes

-yourusername I love you! Thank you! You are an inspiration to everyone!

mclaren proud of you! permission to use? 👀

-yourusername permision very much granted!

username7 Y/N for model of the year anyone?

-landonorris i agree

landonorris

liked by yourusername and others

landonorris my forever angel 🪽

I am so proud of you baby. Thank you for choosing me to spend life with. To many more runways, I love you- Lan

View comments

username2 oh he loves her, loves her

yourusername I love you baby, thank you for always supporting me even when you have better things to do.

-carlossainz he almost turned the plane around when I told him we would have no time for golfing

-landonorris you will always be more important than golfing, shut up Carlos

maxfewtrell proud of you Y/N! It’s an honour calling you a best friend

-yourusername love you max!

maxverstappen honoured to be there!

-yourusername did you get a pink g&t?

-maxvertsappen i sure did

lewishamilton An honour watching you walk the stage. Can’t wait to see how far you go! 🤎

-yourusername Thank you so much for always supporting me!🤎

charles_leclrec enjoyed watching you walk!

-yourusername still upset you didn’t bring Leo😒

georgerussell63 everyone say thank you Lewis. Proud of you Y/N!

-alex_albon thank you Lewis

-pierregasly thank you Lewis

-maxverstappen thank you Lewis

-charles_leclerc thank you Lewis

-carlossainz thank you Lewis

-lewishamilton your welcome guys!

-landonorris 🙄

-yourusername thank you Lewis and thank you George!

oscarpiastri congrats big sis🥳

-yourusername the emoji shows you mean it 😊

carlossainz hermosa ángel

-landonorris are you trying to flirt with MY girlfriend

-yourusername he is a taken man Lando, thank you Carlito

-landonorris are you trying to flirt with HIM?

-username9 lando is fighting for his life

danielricciardo you didn’t fall!

-yourusername i hate you

hope you all enjoyed!!! my request are open if you want to see anything for any of the drivers on my master list!