#like even if I stayed for 30 years it wouldn’t be me but the idea of it scares me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

usedpidemo · 3 months ago

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Cherry ((G)I-dle Minnie)

For you, nothing compares to seeing your favorite artist live, doing what they love the most.

For Minnie, nothing compares to the continued echo of a roaring crowd screaming her name.

But when it’s all said and done, nothing compares to the sound of her one and only fan shouting her name while he’s giving every last inch into her.

—————

Checking your phone, you see the posts on social media. While everyone else is still inside that stadium, Minnie is nowhere to be found, disappearing right after her 30 minute set, no-showing the arbitrary farewell walk around to the fans. Not that everyone cares or will give her heat for her sudden absence, but her presence leaves quite a noticeable hole in the venue.

Judging by how she’s opening the door to her hotel room, you can guess as to where she’s gone.

Looking through your recorded footage, her eyes kept a steady track on you, as if she personally singled you out. Giving you flirty winks, subtle flying kisses in your direction, smiling at you even as she hosts the rest of the audience between transitions—the signs were there all along. You were caught up in the moment of her performance to properly notice.

That, and your intrusive handmade banner is quite easy for her to notice.

Speaking of—Minnie’s been holding your banner the entire ride back, finally setting it aside on the dining table. With every glance at your simple ‘I love you’ message, her gummy smile only widens. It’s heartwarming to see your effort be rewarded in quite the grandiose manner. A simple acknowledgement would have been enough—a simple heart, a wave, a general glance in your direction, anything.

You never expected to share a ride back to her hotel before she personally guided you inside her personal place.

She always points out how cute your handwriting is. That you went out of your way to write in Thai, even if it's evidently using Google Translate, saying that she’ll keep it in her place in appreciation.

And so, you have to address the elephant in the room:

“Why me?” you ask, as your gaze wanders around her hotel room, quite simple in design and only meant for simple overnight stays. You can see the venue you were in minutes ago from the large window, a lifetime away thanks to the nighttime traffic.

“Because I saw it!” Minnie replies, grinning, falling into her usual idol posture like muscle memory. Hands folded together, classy, even if her still-worn stage outfit says otherwise. Casually flaunting off her tight figure and toned little belly just for you. It’s hypnotic. “Flew in from far away just to see me perform here? You’re committed.”

“I mean—you haven’t performed in my country in years,” you remark, bitter at the thought. One of your driving motivations is to at least see her if the worst happened. Fortunately, they’re here to stay a little longer. Nevertheless, your patience was far past its breaking point, and you had to take matters into your own hands. “You have no idea how long I waited for you to come back.”

Minnie frowns, apologetic and empathetic over your plight. “Sorry. We want to reach out and perform everywhere, but—”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve heard it all the time, no need to remind me,” you interrupt, unwilling to hear the same rote excuse for the umpteenth time. Of course it’s the company’s fault, and not you for living in an unprofitable market for international artists to perform. “But that doesn’t matter now. If you ever go and tour, I’ll try flying out here again, like I did just for you.”

Almost immediately, her downcast expression shifts into a look of joy. “Aw. I hope it doesn’t mean you’re going broke for us. It’s not worth it.”

“Of course not,” is your reply, as if you anticipated this exact response. “I wouldn’t even think about going on this trip if I knew I’d be eating cup noodles for the next month.”

“Sounds fun,” Minnie jests, approaching you and brushing loose strands of your hair covering your forehead. Cupping a hand on your cheek, she whispers against your other cheek, her breath hot: “I’ll pay for whatever you need. Flight tickets, hotel accommodation, transportation—name it and I got you covered.”

“Everything’s been accounted for, but I appreciate the thought,” you remark, your eyes following hers. Staring into each other’s gaze intently, her warmth and sincerity in full bloom, you’re falling deeper in love with her. “I—I just didn’t think this would ever happen.”

“No one does,” is her remark, tone sensual, pulling your head closer against hers. “Now I want to ask you a question, and I want you to be honest with me.”

“Of course.”

Her breath tickles your ear, sending chills down your spine. “What’s your favorite song I did tonight?”

You pause, give her a subtle smile, which she immediately reads. Like she already has a clue.

“I think you already know the answer.”

She breathes against your skin in the shape of a chuckle and a smirk. The song begins to play moments later, courtesy of her own phone.

Minnie quietly mouths the lyrics in your ear, and you can’t help but lean closer to get a feel of her lips kissing your skin. You sense the ripple of her waist against yours, a gentle rustle of her shrinking skirt. You engross yourself in the moment that you don’t notice her hands dragging you with her in the direction of the living room couch.

Pushing you onto the sofa right as the second line hits, Minnie continues mouthing the words to her own song effortlessly, dancing before you so sexily knowing she’d never try on stage in a million years, even with their group’s more risque concepts. Her eyes demand every bit of your attention—not that you had anything else in mind but her.

A private performance, meant only for you. Turning her hotel room into a club, you’d be throwing what little money you have for her if you had anything left.

And by God, she loves it. Relishing how whipped you are for her. Doesn’t matter if it’s one or thousands, she lives for the attention and praise.

As the chorus hits, Minnie drops to the floor, stomach down ass up, kicking her heels up in the air, her stare remaining fixated at you all throughout. Rehearsed and practiced, yet looking so natural. You can only watch in awe, wondering how long she’s been waiting for the opportunity, how many times she’s done this before to others, and how the stars perfectly aligned for you to have this personalized moment.

It’s torturing you right now that you can’t reach out and touch her, even if you wanted to.

Picking herself off the floor, she saunters toward you, your nerves tensing with every moment, every step forward. Fingers digging deeper into the fabric of your pants, it’s all purposeful how she moves: every sway of her hips, her hands running down her svelte figure, the twirl when she’s standing right between your legs, flaunting her petite ass peeking through her skirt before squatting down in front of you, an arm’s reach away.

The lyrics perfectly describe the situation:

“Oh no, here we go. Watch me shake it low.”

It’s like she’s daring you to take her and make her yours.

Her ass lingers far longer than what you can perceive. No matter how desperate you are, you can’t bring yourself to move a muscle, do anything but admire and watch helplessly even as Minnie offers herself to you on a silver platter. Not for lack of trying; your mind can’t handle what’s happening right now.

She looks over shoulder with a wicked grin, as if this isn’t the first time she’s left someone victimized with her deliberate teasing.

As if that wasn’t enough, when she spins around to face you, she drags your hands off your pants, replacing them with her own. Leaning forward, her hot breath reacquainting with your skin, followed by the faintest of air kisses. Slowly but surely, she clambers onto your lap, creating unbearable heat between your legs.

There’s no denying it now.

Instinctively, your hands find purchase on her ass, squeezing them hard, drawing a moan out of her. Minnie responds in kind, rolling her head back, grinding her hips on your lap, fanning the flames. Her tummy right in your face, you bend forward and kiss her, tracing a path up to her crop top, resting between her chest. Her fingers find their way around your neck, inching herself closer to you till you can hardly breathe.

“Fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten to do this,” she sighs, breaking herself free from the immersion of her own performance. Glancing down to find your face between her bra, she pulls on your face, drawing your gaze to meet hers. “Like what you see?”

“Fuck yes, I do,” you huff, returning to kiss her bra. “But I’ve got a feeling this wasn’t the first time.”

Minnie laughs. “No shit.”

“Just you, or do the others—”

“You already know,” she interrupts, cupping your chin and redirecting your eyes back on her, shutting you up. “Now can we go back to the moment?”

Without another word, she leans down and meets you for a passionate kiss. Eyes closed, letting your feelings do all the talking. At that moment, you’re not fan and idol, but two lovers finding solace in each other’s arms. The only break is when she pulls back to lift your shirt over your head before you’re passionately making out to her own song again.

She doesn’t even bring up the fact that your hands have been on her ass the whole time. If anything, with every squeeze, she moans softly into your mouth, making music.

But you can’t stay like this for long. Not when you’re both close to reaching your natural climax.

Breaking off the kiss for a second time, Miinie takes a moment to admire you, smiling. Her face, flushed with crimson and lust, keeps you in place while she silently unhooks her top, slipping it off her shoulders before tossing it to the floor and joining your shirt.

Before she tries to kiss you again, the sudden music stoppage snaps both your attention.

“Ah, fuck me,” Minnie whines, quickly climbing off your lap to reach for the phone on the other side of the living room, buzzing loudly as she races to shut it down as quickly as possible. Giving you a proper look at her half-naked body while she hurriedly mashes buttons on her screen, you’re imagining that’s what she normally looks like in the mornings.

“Well tell them I felt nauseous and had to rush to the hospital,” she says while clicking her tongue seemingly giving instructions to someone over the phone. When her eyes find yours, she grins cheekily, playing off the situation as nothing but a minor inconvenience. “No one’s gonna find out, surely.”

Like you weren’t casually singled out by staff, escorted out of the venue and riding inside one of the artist’s cars before being told to wait inside for a good 30 minutes before you could finally get out. Under any other context, this would have been a kidnapping case.

“Just give them the usual statement,” she whines, annoyed that she’s getting calls at such an unfortunate time. “I did my set, no? That should be enough. No one’s gonna care by tomorrow,” she adds, before cutting the call and the music picks up where it left off.

“Sorry you had to hear all that.” Minnie sighs as she casually lets her skirt fall to the floor, leaving her in only underwear as she saunters back to you. “I probably should have listened when they said this wasn’t a solo concert.”

To save her from further embarrassment, you remain quiet, but your face can’t hide your amusement watching it unfold in real time. One way or another, you’ll never look at her the same way again.

“Gosh, I gotta ask Yuqi how she does it,” she huffs, setting down her phone on the living room table. “Anyway, where were we?”

You don’t know exactly how to respond, nor do you have the answer to her question. And yet you have an idea as to where this is gonna end.

—————

The song continues to play on loop in the background as Minnie guides you to the bedroom, hand in tow, skirt lost somewhere on the living room floor, before falling onto the bed belly first, spreading her legs wide and baring her holes for display. Showing her pussy to you, she is wet and leaking.

“Fucking use me,” she huffs, looking over her shoulder, voice raspy, losing herself to her most feral desires. “I know you want this as much as I want it.”

“Fuck, Minnie, I—” Not even your half-assed attempt at reluctance stops you from unraveling with her; it’s laughably unconvincing. Lining your erect cock against her aching core, drawing a prolonged whine from her needy lips, her passionate sigh makes you shiver in anticipation. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You wouldn’t be positioning yourself behind me if you didn’t,” she remarks, pointing a finger toward your cock. “And that thing wanted me the moment I climbed onto your lap.”

She’d plunge your cock straight into her needy cunt if she could.

Instead, she reaches for the tip, gives it a gentle flick, causing your breaths to go haywire. Sparking a fire within you, Minnie only has one purpose in mind: to set you ablaze. You see it in her inviting smile—her eyes—drawing her fingers back, daring you to finish what she started.

Plunging into her cunt without hesitation, Minnie’s cry of pain and pleasure immediately fills the room and beyond. Obscene, obnoxious, you’re making a statement to everyone that you’re gonna fuck her—hard.

Fingers clamped on the headrest, and then onto the pillow, hanging on for dear life. Her muscles tensing and her hips bucking against yours. All while you’re still trying to adjust inside her; you haven’t moved a muscle since entering her. The only thought permeating your mind is how goddamn tight she feels around you.

The idea of unloading everything into her right then and there floats around your mind, but you begin dragging your cock out, now lathered in sheen and slick, before pushing back into her invigorating heat.

And fuck, Minnie takes every inch effortlessly. Letting you take charge, giving you free reign over her body. With every stroke, every thrust deeper, she fucking screams. Doesn’t matter that you’re leaving gaping imprints on her skin or that you’re hammering into her with reckless abandon, she only cares about the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her veins.

Like a man possessed, you’re throwing your all into her, pounding her balls deep like your life depends on it, like this is your one and only chance—which it may as well be.

“So incredible—can’t believe you’re letting me do this—” you rasp, pumping into her so hard the bed begins to quake. Both your hands rest on her svelte waist, wrapped like a vice as you deliver one devastating stroke after another. You can only imagine how she looks, but you get a sense that it’s pornographic and salacious.

“It’s been so long—” she whines, her voice cracking and jumping with every word in response to your thrusts. Her own fingers are gripped to the pillows, lifting her head to keep herself loud and clear, like she isn’t making quite the commotion this late at night. “So goddamn big—oh fuck—more—”

With her ass bouncing and rippling with each thrust, you’re left in a state of trance. God, she looks so good with your cock impaled in her pussy, with cum leaking and dripping from her holes. Accompanied by the filthy sounds of flesh slapping flesh, there’s no better sight for your dizzy, tired eyes. It only serves to spur you on, to keep you moving—as if you need any more motivation.

Giving her no respite, maintaining quite the chokehold you have on her, you lean forward against her ear, and your erratic breaths—your little vibrations—sends her into upper heaven. You haven’t uttered a single word, yet your looming presence drives her crazy.

“Pull on it, baby. Please—” Minnie cries, pertaining to her hair, barely held together by a loosened tie and prayers.

As much as you want to say anything back, the vice grip she has on you is just as strong, if not stronger. So intoxicatingly tight, gathering your thoughts into something coherent proves to be an immense struggle. It gets to a point where you don’t know who’s truly in control here.

And seeing as you’re doing exactly that—pulling on her hair as you kiss the helix of her ear, unable to keep up with her tempo—you sense the end is coming. And fast.

Still, there’s no relenting. She feels too good to slow down for even a moment, fearing that if you do, this unreal bliss is lost forever. So you hold on, redirecting all your focus on everything else about her body: exploring her back, lifting her on her fours, twisting her body in your hands—anything to keep your mind off the idea that you’re falling apart.

Your unrelenting pace supersedes every effort you’re making. It’s a relief that Minnie is fucked beyond coherence right now, losing herself in her own ecstasy. Nevertheless, you’re mentally counting down the little time you have left.

“Almost, Minnie—” you coo into her neck, rolling her on her side, lifting her helpless figure, squeezing on her breast. Fighting with the dying remains of your resolve to keep the fire alive before it fans out, Minnie looks absolutely drained, her body pushed far beyond its limit. “I’m so close—”

“Inside—” she barely manages to whine, palming your back, pulling you into a warm embrace, unwilling to accept any other outcome. Eyes completely shut, just letting pleasure freely flow in and out of her veins, rolling her hips up as you thrust into her, your grip on reality collapsing in real time. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna—”

Her voice goes high, breaks her train of thought as you sense her crumble underneath you, her climax hitting at the apex. The heat of her walls suffocating, putting you in an inescapable chokehold, her legs wrapping around yours—the intention is clear: you’re gonna stay there, cum inside, and lay it all on her.

It’s only right that your own orgasm follows.

Holding her through your own end, every second an eternity in itself, as you bury yourself balls deep, letting Minnie milk you for all your worth. Shuddering as your bodies intertwine as one, bracing as every spurt of cum you give her with hits with the same level of impact as the previous burst, like fireworks exploding. Can’t make out a clear visual as your vision goes blurry, so you take solace in her arms as the pulse in your loins gradually dies.

Until the only thing you can hear is each other’s heartbeats.

Minnie’s a delicate treasure, one of one. Despite fucking her into shreds mere moments ago, you can’t go out like this: pressing your weight on her, dangerously close to passing out under the afterglow of your own orgasm.

Fortunately, Minnie sees the scene differently, smiling: “Wow.”

She’s roaming her hands down your arms, warily glancing at the aftermath between your legs. A fresh puddle has formed on the sheets, now stained beyond repair. “That’s—a lot more than I thought,” she remarks, laughing at herself.

“That’s what you do to me,” you say, brushing her hair side, softly kissing her. As you try to pull back, Minnie sinks further, keeping your lips locked a few more precious moments longer.

You need to take a breather; blink a few times to let everything sink in: that she’s the one who made the advance. Every single opportunity.

And as the mood slowly dies, as both of you stare into each other’s eyes, uncertain of what happens now, her phone rings loudly in the background again.

You give her this look, as if to say: ‘Seriously? In this ungodly hour?’ To which Minnie merely smirks before rolling out of bed. As if this was expected. Hell, she looks surprised that it didn’t happen mid-climax.

Limping out of the bedroom, making a strong case not to fly out tomorrow, even though she won’t have activities for the next few days. Learning from earlier, she hides herself out away from your view before she returns with her phone in hand, throwing it right in your direction, falling short of landing on your face.

“Not this time,” she remarks, wagging her finger, reading your mind. “And for the record, they completely bought it.”

You can only laugh and shrug as Minnie climbs onto your lap, falling into your arms. —————

(A/N: Kind of a quick one, apologies, not really much time to write filth when you're almost graduating. Currently stuck in thesis hell with only a few weeks left before the semester ends, so please bear with me a bit longer. A few months into 2025 and Blind Eyes Red is still one of my favorite K-pop songs released so far, who knew the lyrics were horny as fuck? That made the rest of the idea a lot simpler. Thank you for reading!)

#kpop smut #smut #gidle smut #minnie #nicha yontararak

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uzurimisery · 4 months ago

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love thy neighbor. / john price x reader

Buying a house to use when you’re never home is a stupid idea, but John Price has done it anyway. He doesn’t think much of it after 10 years, til you move in behind him, and then suddenly it’s not so bad.

warnings: MDNI, John “talk her through it” gentle dom Price, unprotected sex, piv, oral sex (fem receiving), reader is called girl, praise kink, light biting, implied pregnancy, you have a child at the end

w.c.: 5.6k

It’s not often that John finds himself so… distracted. With a job like his, that means certain death. Never let your head wander. Never let your eyes drift. Stay focused. Ready. Out in the field, your head swivels for a bird like his is and that's a bullet to your temple. Hopefully, the shot kills you right away and doesn’t leave you bleeding on the floor. Slow and painful way to go. Choking on your blood, teammates around you just watching, wishing they’d finish the job, and you wouldn’t have to fade away.

But there’s something about you that’s got him distracted.

Your garden backs up against his, property lines defined by an old wooden fence that's been there since the 60s. Not much to look at for his side. He keeps his grass cut short with minimal landscaping. Few large paver stones between the patio and the slab of concrete the hot tub sits. He’s rarely even home to see it.

The house had been a purchase he felt he had to make when he hit 30. Soap joked it was his midlife crisis since every crisis could be their midlife one. He guessed it gave him a weird sense of normalcy that never sat right. Like shoes that are ever so slightly too tight. They fit, could even fit better if you took the time to stretch them out, but he doesn’t. Told himself it’d be a better fit when he retired. If he got the chance.

Now he’s 40, a homeowner for a decade, and it’s barely used, and he’s barely there. Hell, the weekly cleaner and gardener had been there more since he bought it than he had. John’s only ever there when he’s got an extended break between missions, but well and truly, how often is that?

He hadn’t even noticed when the old couple who used to own the end of the terrace house passed away, and you moved in. Meredith and James. It had happened eight months ago, right at the end of autumn. Tells you how much of a good neighbor he is. John didn’t learn about it until April hit, and you came knocking on his door.

You had a black oversized jumper tucked into some dark wash high-waisted jeans with a big hole on the left knee. Hair held back with a claw clip, brows drawn ever so slightly together. Like you were nervous as you shifted side to side holding a plate of cookies.

It was one of those gross British spring days where the air starts to get muggy as the sun hits its peak. Past the part of spring where it’s grey and drizzly for weeks straight, the cold still clinging to your bones.

He’d barely been home for 13 hours. Came in and passed out, only woke up about 20 minutes ago, and turned on the TV in the lounge to listen to the news while he made a late lunch. Still in the groggy headspace of jetlag, but he swore you looked radiant.

“Hi! I wanted to introduce myself.” You had a soft voice. Gentle. Like you were afraid of spooking him. “Meredith told me that you’re often overseas, and… well, this is the first time I think I’ve seen you home.” You gave him your name and told him you owned the house behind his now.

John was pleasant for the whole interaction, chatting with you for about 15 minutes before you excused yourself. Smiled and said all the right things like his mum raised him to, still not really all there mentally. Didn’t even really click for him that you shared the fence with him until two days later, he saw you in the garden, taking a hammer to the fence with a mean look on your face.

Good opportunity for him to be neighborly.

“You alright?” He’s leaning out the first-floor window, arms resting on the windowsill.

John didn’t expect you to startle so much, dropping the hammer with a shriek before your head whipped up to him. “Fucking hell you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, love,” he chuckles, “Something wrong with the fence?”

“Yeah,” there's sweat beading down your forehead that you swipe away. He has a wandering thought about licking it off you. “I think the wood’s rotted through. I leaned something against it yesterday and it about gave through.”

Great opportunity for him to get closer to you.

“I’ll come down and have a look.”

Turns out the wood was rotted through for more than half the fence. The whole thing was one bad wind day away from falling over. John had removed some of the worst parts that day with plans to remove the rest on Tuesday morning. That was until you both got hit with a stop-work order. One of the neighbors had called the council and complained. Something about protecting historic areas, and the boundary of the two properties not being legally defined. Not their place at all, but regardless, neither of you could do anything about it now.

They did at least let John finish taking the fence down for safety concerns, so the two of you spent that time getting to know each other better. You were 34, worked as a fashion buyer, but you really wanted to be a designer, liked holidays with your girlfriends where you could try new wines, and were perhaps the sweetest bird he’d ever met, hidden behind a layer of fierce sass.

Then the council told the two of you it’d be another eight to ten weeks for them to assess the new fence and then another three for them to do an impact report on whether it’d require the other fences to be changed. Typical British bureaucracy. The fence was being built in the same way it had looked prior to it being torn down.

But now it meant the two of you shared one big garden. One big, ambiguous green space only defined by how much landscaping you had done and the numerous planters full of growing veggies you had. Not a big deal for him. While he liked his space, a week or two of shared garden wouldn’t kill him.

Then the pandemic hit and no one was going to approve jack shit or build anything. It was like the council fully vanished, emails going unanswered.

John had been deployed shortly after the lockdowns were announced and told you to email him if anything important came up with the council. You laughed, told him you would, and followed it up by demanding he stay safe lest you have to deal with a new neighbor and no fence.

True to your word, you did email him. It was never any updates regarding the fence. Rather, it was you checking in on him and telling him about the local gossip. Turned into penpals. Between bouts of violent warfare, he got to know you, and hell, he’d say you’re bordering on friend territory now, which isn’t a title he gives out often. He tried to be polite and cordial, but the image of you sunbathing never left his mind.

When he came back 12 weeks later in the dead of night, he climbed into his bed in the primary suite on the third floor and passed out. Bags dropped by the front door, half blocking it from opening. Maybe he was finally getting too old for this.

He didn’t wake up until 1 pm, sunshine making the room uncomfortable and hot. He hadn’t programmed the aircon to come on yet. Sweat clung to his back, t-shirt fabric uncomfortably damp, and he pulled himself out of bed.

Trudging to the window, he throws it open in the hopes that the jet stream might bless him with some breeze before he hops into the shower. He might have opened it with more force than needed, hinges creaking, now squinting from how bright the sun was.

Then he saw you. Lounging on a beach chair.

Now, remembering the lack of fence between the two of you, he didn’t think much of it until he rubbed his eyes as his vision cleared.

You were lying in the chair, sunglasses on as you listened to Jazz House, a staple of yours, he noticed, stretched out supine and basking in the sun. The glint of an anklet was the first thing he noticed before trailing his eyes upwards to your baby blue bikini bottoms and no top. Tits soft and supple in the sun. They shone, covered in what he assumed was tanning oil, jiggling as you raised your arms to cover your eyes.

If he were a better man, he’d look away. Step back from the window and pretend he never saw anything. Unfortunately, he’s not a better man. John looks on a bit longer, memorizing every inch of your skin, before he walks to the bathroom.

The shower he takes is ice cold.

It’s a couple of days later, right before the sun starts to wane, the light turning golden, and the squad has shown up for a barbecue. You’ve spoken to him briefly, claiming you’d catch up more when you weren’t so busy.

Price’s place became the de facto grilling spot a few years back. It was probably the most use it had ever gotten. Helped, he had a big garden, a high-quality grill, and guest rooms for the lads to crash in if they drank too much.

Ghost and Soap had brought four packs of Carling. Pure shite in his opinion, but Soap was a fan and at the end of day free beer is free beer. John’s on his third can, enjoying the build of a buzz as he stands over the grill flipping kebabs, lamb, and beef with some veg, listening in on a story Ghost is telling him. There’s an old 80s rock playlist one of the lads found on Spotify that’s agreeable enough. Soap and Gaz are wrestling while Ghost intermittently laughs at their attempts to pin each other.

He almost forgets there’s no fence between your places till you come out bounding over in a short little white dress that scrapes the tops of your thighs, struggling to open a jar of olives. You looked like a goddamn angel.

“Hey John,” he places the tongs down as you come closer. “Could you help me open this jar? The girls and I are making martinis, and I can’t seem to—oh. Hello!”

You’ve crossed the imaginary threshold and are only a few feet away from him as you look up, still trying to open the jar.

“Take it this is your squad?” Your eyes flick between him and the group of very large men near him.

“Aye, love,” he motions with his head towards them. “Lads, say hello.”

Like the well-trained dogs they are, a round of “You Alright,” and “Evenin’” rings out.

You smile and give a small wave. “Sorry, I won’t interrupt for long.” You draw closer to him, holding out the jar with one hand and the other curling around his bicep. “Could you open this? We’re dangerously low on olives, and we’re making martinis.”

You smell like coconut cream, vanilla, and sunscreen as the tips of your French manicured nails catch on his skin.

John smiles, takes the jar, and opens it before sealing it again and passing it to you. You beam up at him, lips shiny with gloss. “There you go, love,” he tries not to look down the front of your dress, but from this angle, it's hard not to. Especially once he notices you’re not wearing a bra.

“Ugh, my hero!” Sighing dramatically, you give his arm another squeeze before holding the jar with both hands. “I’ll bring you a martini as payment. What are you making?”

You’ve leaned across him, pulling your hair to the side as you inspect the grill. From the corner of his eye, he sees Gaz give Soap a nudge.

“Kebabs.” You lean a bit too far forward and he puts a hand your your waist to steady you. “Have a few steaks to put on if the occasion calls for it.”

You gasp and smack his chest. Mock betrayal and hurt with a smile. It’s light and playful, and you don’t make any move to get away from his hand on your waist. “Where was my invite?”

John raises a brow. “You told me you were with the girls tonight.”

“Yes, but if I had known you were grilling I would have told them to sod off.”

One of the boys, surprisingly, Ghost, laughs. It’s a real laugh too, which is a bit mental coming from him.

“Don’t be cruel to your friends now.”

“They’d understand,” you’re quick with the reply. “We’re only having martinis and cheese.”

You do this thing he’s picked up on. Leaning a little too forward and looking up at him through your eyelashes, lips in a slight part. Intentional? Maybe. Innocent? Probably. Dangerous? 100%. It’s the kind of look that gives him pause. Stabs him in the heart and weasels its way into his bloodstream. Gets his thoughts going a bit too fast.

Makes him wonder what you’d look like with his cock in your mouth.

“Tell you what,” he offers, clearing his throat. “You go to Tesco and get some more, and your lot can join us.”

“Would you guys mind?” You direct the question to the squad, peaking over John’s shoulder.

Even if they did, with the hunger Price has in his eyes for you, they’d never have said no. There’s an intensity there they’ve only seen in the field, and they aren’t stupid. They can tell that he’s itching to fuck you. He had been glued to his inbox when they were deployed and evasive about answering them about who he was emailing. Easy to put two and two together.

20 minutes and one Tesco Express trip later, you and two of your friends, Joanne and Marcy, had pulled up your two garden chairs to join the men, bringing with you enough martinis for everyone. The three of you go the rounds teasing one another, breaking into fits of giggles, and you all get situated once the food is done cooking. He didn’t expect it, but your friends get on well with his squad.

Rather than bring one of John's dining room chairs out, you’ve taken to perching on his knee. One arm draped across his shoulders, toying with his shirt, and the other holding a skewer that you pick at in between talking. You’re acting like it's the most natural thing in the world, so he does the same, resting a hand on your knee.

Once the food is done and you girls have moved onto a wine, unmotivated to make more martinis, you get looser. The sun has fully set now, and everyone's been well fed. It's reaching the point where you know that once someone says they’re heading home, everyone will naturally see themselves out, but no one’s making the first move.

He’s painfully hard and every time you wiggle, giggly from the alcohol, your ass brushes against him and makes it worse. Maybe it’s the alcohol getting to him or maybe it’s the pent-up sexual frustration, but when you move again, he can’t help but whisper in your ear, low and slow. “Careful there, love.”

“What do you mean?” Voice soft and teasing as you turn towards him.

He likes the sweet and innocent act you put on as you rock back against him. At first, he thought you weren’t aware of it, but now it’s clear you knew.

It’s a quick, sharp breath he draws. “You know exactly what I mean,” John’s lips brush your ear. The low rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, heat pooling in your core.

“Hmm…” you rock backward again. “Maybe I need you to spell it out for me?”

There’s a coy smile on your lips that makes him want to fucking bend you over the table. But he’s barely a gentleman and wouldn’t do that in front of your friends. One hand grabs at your waist, stilling your movements. The tension between the two of you feels electric. You’re hyper-aware of every place his bare skin meets yours. It’s not quite a warning, not quite a promise. Just enough to make you realize he’s barely holding onto his composure.

Joanne laughs loudly, pulling your attention outwards.

Ever aware, Ghost notices what's transpiring between the two of you and stands. “Right then, time for me to head home.”

Price watches as Ghost ushers the lads up, and your friends follow. He leads them all to the back door, turning to Price and nodding before heading through himself. You catch the look he gives John as he goes. A subtle little note.

Behave.

The door shuts and the garden falls quiet.

Now alone, nerves start creeping through you. Doesn’t help that John doesn’t move. He sits there for a minute, hands on your waist, thumbs brushing at the fabric of your dress. You’re 99.99% sure that he wants the same thing you do, but god forbid a girl feels nervous. Feels like your heart is loud enough he could hear it as well as he felt it through your clothes.

He exhales, slow and controlled.

Then, his grip tightens on your waist.

“Nervous?” he noses at your shoulder, mustache tickling slightly. His voice is low and rough, like he recently smoked a cigar.

You nod, small and shy. “A bit.”

John hums, happy he has that effect on you. Almost like he’s purring. One of his hands slides up your front, brushing past your tits, before settling on your jaw and turning your face towards him. The look in his eyes is one you’ve never seen before. It goes beyond hunger, he’s starving.

“Don’t be.”

You crash into him. The kiss is heavy, all-consuming, and leaves you lightheaded. John’s hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers enmeshing themselves in your hair, tilting you as he sees fit. His other hand roams your body, grabbing your breast and squeezing it. You moan, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, and you melt into him.

When you break apart, panting slightly and leaning back against him, you giggle as he presses open-mouthed kisses against your exposed neck and shoulder. “Been thinking about this for a while, pretty girl.”

He lets go of your hair to pick you up at the waist and reposition you better on his lap. “Thinking about ‘ow pretty you’d sing for me.” John settles his hands on your hips now. “‘Ow sweet you’d taste.”

Strong hands pull your hips back before pushing them forward. It goes to your head a bit, and you're stunned as he repeats the motion.

“Don’t be shy now. Had no problem doing this earlier, did you?”

“No,” you stuttered out, grinding your hips down as instructed.

“That’s a sweet girl,” he continues to guide your hips.

Each bump and grind pulls you further and further into a corner of debauchery you thought you left behind in your 20s. It sends waves of pleasure through your body. John’s hands grip you tighter, driving you into a steady rhythm with him. His erection strains against his shorts.

“That’s it,” he growls. “Just like that, love.”

Your breath is short gasps drawn in a haze as the friction builds, panties soaked and clinging to your folds. Price’s lips find your neck again, pressing more hot kisses to the strip of flesh. Feels like you’re burning up as his teeth graze your pulse point, and you whimper.

“John,” you plead. For what you aren’t sure.

He takes his hands off your hips to push the straps of your dress off your shoulders. It falls softly off them, exposing your tits, nipples hard. John tweaks one, rolling it between his fingers, and your head falls forward with a soft cry. You don’t stop moving your hips, lost in the feeling as he continues to palm your chest. He cups them, kneading them as you continue to rock your hips.

“Love… Sweet girl,” he bucks his hips up to meet yours, grinding himself against your aching core. “Tell me you want this and I’ll take you inside and give you what you’re begging for.”

“I want it,” you stutter out. “Please, John.”

His grip on your breasts tightens. “That’s it.” He stands, picking you up bridal style in one fluid motion, your body pressed firmly against his chest. The night air is cool as it hits your bare breasts. John is swift as he takes you inside, closing the door with his foot as he brings you into the lounge. He knows he doesn’t want to make the trek upstairs yet. He’s gotta fuck you on the couch before he takes you upstairs and fucks you in his bed or he might burst at the seams and fuck you like a wild animal.

Price deposits you on the chaise part of his sectional so he can lay you out as you pull your dress off, leaving you in your panties. You look goddamn delectable.

He pulls off his shirt and shorts, leaving himself in his boxer briefs as he moves towards you. A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling your leg up and pushing you onto your back. John kisses your ankle and drops your leg, before he grabs the waistband of your panties and pulls them off you.

“Look at this,” he brings your panties up. The white’s gone transparent in the light. “Soaked through.”

Price gets down on his knees and pulls your pussy towards him. “Knew you’d have a pretty cunt. Just look at you. So wet and ready for me.”

He runs a finger through your core, chuckling with a full smile as his finger comes back glistening. Parting his lips, he brings it to his mouth and moans at the taste, watching as it makes you wiggle in anticipation. “Delicious. You going to be good for me and let me eat you out?”

You nod diligently. Submission looks good on you.

His hands grip your thigh, pushing them further apart as he settles between them. He leans forward, presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, and then drags his tongue against you in one long, smooth stripe. The groan he lets out comes from deep inside him, echoing in the hollow of his chest. And he buries himself in your pussy.

He focuses in on your slit, sensitive from the lead up and circles it with the tip of his tongue. John sucks it into his mouth, passing his tongue over it. Your hips buck, jagged, and stuttered as he does. It feels like he’s got you on display, and the rapt attention goes to your head. Each pass of his tongue pulls you closer and closer to the edge as he devours you.

A finger prods at your hole, sliding in with no resistance. He pumps it in and out, warming you up, before adding a second. The sound of his filthy slurps and your moans fill the room as he pumps in and out of you, angling his fingers to bump your G-spot. It's obscene. You’re so wet it sounds like the set of a porno.

John wants nothing more than to consume you. Wants to watch you come on his tongue and clench down on his fingers. He can feel your body tensing, muscles pulling tight as your climax draws nearer. Your hands fly to his head, pulling on his short hair, as you grind your pussy against his face, and Price moans.

“Sweet girl, cum for me.” He pulls away for a second to speak before going right back to working you to a fever pitch.

“John,” it comes out as a broken gasp. “I’m gonna cum.”

He hums in approval, and it sends you over the edge. Your clamp down around his fingers like a vice, and it washes over you. Price doesn’t let up, doesn't stop. He continues to pump his fingers at the same steady pace, extending your orgasm. Your nails dig into his scalp, spurring him on as he sucks on your clit harder.

John can feel your juices gushing out, getting caught in his facial hair, and soaking the couch. He wants to break you, make you fall apart completely, to build you back up with the knowledge that there’ll never be another man like him. So you keep wearing those tiny little dresses around him. You’re pushing at his head now, and he takes his mouth off you with a wet pop. When you lock eyes with him, you whimper.

“Fucking gorgeous love. Prettiest I’ve ever seen.” he purrs, pressing a kiss against your clit, making you twitch from sensitivity. “You want more?”

“I want you to fuck me,” it’s a breathy whisper as you come down from your high and he swears he’s never heard something so erotic before in his entire life.

John remembers that he hasn’t had a hook-up in years and that there are no condoms in the house. “I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable, but I don’t have any condoms.”

You’ve scrambled up from your back. Propping yourself up on your knees, chest resting on the back of the couch.

“I don’t care,” the way the eye contact you make with him from over your shoulder makes him feel should be criminal. “Fuck me.”

He stands up, left knee popping from an old injury, and he looms over you. Big, beefy frame taking up all the space behind you. John reaches down and pulls down his boxer briefs. It’s not lost on him how you lock in on his erection as it bobs up and makes a soft plap against his stomach. His cock is thick, probably the thickest you’ve ever had, with an angry red swollen head leaking pre-cum.

Price grips your hips, pulls them closer to him, and deepens the arch in your back as he settles between your spread thighs again. The thick length on him meet your slit. He gives an experimental thrust, grinding himself against you and coating himself in you.

“You’re a dangerous one, aren’t you?” John quips, reaching down and grabbing his cock to line up with your entrance. His head catches, pushing ever so slightly in, but not enough.

At this, you push your hips back, pushing more of his length inside you, and the stretch is delicious. He’s prepped you so well that there’s not even an ounce of discomfort— the sweet growing feeling of being full.

“Worst criminal you’ll ever meet,” you hum, pushing back further. “Show me the error of my ways?”

The teasing lilt gives John the encouragement he needs to let go and fully enjoy this and finally he thrust forward, sinking himself fully inside your drooling cunt. He pulls out to the tip and then buries himself to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice strained as your walls flutter around him. “Tight ‘n’ warm cunt made for me.”

Price sets a steady pace with long, full strokes. Skin meeting skin fills the room as you meet his thrusts. He leans down, breath hot against your shoulder as he kisses your shoulder, relishing in your soft pants before biting the skin. It makes you tighten around him as a sharp moan breaks through.

One hand slides around your hips to your front where he finds your clit and starts rubbing it in tight circles. His voice is low in your ear. “That’s it, love, can feel you getting tighter ‘round me.”

He punctuates each word with a deep thrust.

“Such a sweet girl, been so welcoming for me. Taking it like you were made for it.”

The praise makes you dizzy, your head falling forward on the couch. He’s quick to wrap his other arm around your chest and pulls you upright, flush against his chest. The new angle lets him push even deeper inside you while he continues to play with your clit, your orgasm quickly building.

“Christ, you’re like the gift that doesn’t stop.” Sparks of pleasure shoot through you as he bites the shell of your ear. “Feel how deep I am inside you? How your tight little pussy clings to me?”

Price kisses along your jawline, beard scraping your skin. “Can tell you’re close. Cum for me love. Want to feel you cum on my cock.”

Your skin feels prickly. Like you’re too hot and too cold at the same time.

“That’s it, dove. Let it happen,” he urges you on, letting your chest rest back on the couch and cementing his hold on your hips. “So sweet for me.”

And you let it happen. It’s slow and builds itself up, and he continues to thrust up into you til it reaches a fever pitch that makes your whole body shake and writhe. The loudest moan you've ever let out comes past your lips, your fingers digging into the couch cushions.

“That’s my girl,” he growls, thrusting faster. “Tell me where you want me.”

It’s hard to speak as he doesn’t let up.

“Inside.”

“What was that?” John teases you, bending down like he can’t hear you.

“Inside, I want it inside,” you cry out.

John’s happy to oblige, rutting into you like a wild animal. His thrusts are harder than before, your ass jiggling everytime his hips meet yours with wet paps. The force rocks your entire body, and all you can do is take it. With a final thrust, he sinks all the way inside you, cock pulsing. Ropes of hot cum fill your insides and it feels like the world goes blurry and you aren’t sure what happens next.

You’re groggy when he gets you to come to. A lazy, satisfied smile spreads across your face when you’re able to focus on him. He’s got a warm washcloth and is cleaning you up. He’s so soft and gentle as he goes, kissing your knee. The room is quiet, filled with an intimacy that feels far too real, like something between lovers, for the first time you’ve slept with him.

“You alright?” He asks, his tone is tender and soft. The look in his eyes is so tender, like you carry the moon and stars. It tugs at your heart and nestles itself in your chest next to it.

You nod, still a little dazed, still in the afterglow of a really good orgasm. “I’m good. Really good.”

That smile he has makes you clench. “Want to take me upstairs and fuck me on a real bed?”

John laughs a full belly laugh. “Bossy woman, you are.”

The complaint is one of nothing but jest. A barking dog with no bite. He’s already picked you up and crossed the threshold to the stairs and starts heading up then.

────────────────────※ ·❆· ※──────────────────

TWO YEARS LATER…

It’s another sunny Saturday, so everyone's once again at the Price household for a barbecue. Feels routine at this point. You’re in the kitchen finishing up a cheese board and drinks, he's out at the grill. The lads are doing what they always do, except now, Soap is doing it to impress Joanne. She sits on one of the now-plentiful outdoor chairs and pretends not to be impressed. Mundane and peaceful. Not something he thought he’d ever experience.

Marcy opens the back door and comes out with the cheese board. You’re trailing behind her with a fat nine-month-old on your hip. Rhys, named after John’s very Welsh grandfather, takes after his father and is perhaps the biggest baby anyone's ever seen. He’s also an incredibly happy baby.

The second John sees you’ve come outside, he's placed the tongs down to come kiss you. Every morning he’s not on base, he wakes up next to you, but he still can’t believe it’s real. Rhys starts babbling excitedly as he walks closer. Price bends down to press a kiss to his head before kissing you.

“Your son is heavy,” you shift, hiking Rhys up to get a better seat on your hip, and look at him. “You get that from your daddy.”

You boop him on the nose, and the baby erupts into a fit of giggles.

“You calling me fat, dove?”

“One of us was the biggest baby in the county history when we were born, and the other one is mummy, isn’t that right, Rhys?” You attack Rhys’ cheeks with kisses, giggles continuing from the little boy. He’s losing it now, little hands grabbing at your face as he squirms and wiggles.

John can’t argue with the facts. He was the biggest baby, still to this day, to have been born in his home county. So he smiles, kisses both of you again, and goes back to grilling.

The meal is how it often is. Loud and full of laughter. Plates passed around, drinks passed around, Rhys passed from person to person. The sun is warm on everyone's skin with the scent of sunscreen hanging in the air.

In the lull between bites, Gaz pipes up.“Are you two ever going to fix the fence?”

Everyone's head swivels to the back of the property, fence fully gone, where they can see clearly into the other lounge. It’s covered in baby toys and fashion mannequins. It’s the smaller of the two houses, so when you got married, it turned into your studio to work on your brand.

You giggle, sipping from your glass. “Ah, right.”

Rhys slaps the table, the glass making little hollow sounds.

John looks out fondly at your back door before facing you. Fuck the fence.

It can stay down.

©️ uzuzrimisery

thank you cas for beta reading :)

#uzuri writes #john price x reader #john price imagine #captain john price #x reader #john price #cod john price #cod imagine #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfic

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cheriecoke · 7 months ago

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY — levi ackerman

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. your car breaks down before you can make it home for christmas. it leaves you with no choice but to call your ex-boyfriend.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. fluff, sfw, gn!reader, exes, christmas, light angst, second chance romance, soft!levi, modern au — 3.3k words

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. dropping the annual levi christmas fic. happy birthday to my beloved, he is such a special character to me and has gotten me thru some rough times :( forever grateful u exist levi ackerman. this was going to go in a completely different direction in my head but... alas the words lead me and i must follow. hope you enjoy!

Of all the things to happen on Christmas Eve, car trouble ranked among the worst. Which, naturally, meant that’s exactly what happened to you.

Something not too far from a blizzard had come in overnight, coating the roads in a thick, hazardous blanket. It looked beautiful, sure, but you were two hours away from where you needed to be on Christmas, and you figured — how bad could it be?

The answer was bad.

You’d skidded, blown out a tire (they were old, due for a change), and found your hood popped open with an odd smoke, stranded only 30 minutes south of where you’d come from. Your family was expecting you home by the evening, there to see everyone for Christmas Eve dinner.

At this rate, you’d be lucky if you made it for Christmas at all.

After cursing yourself profusely for not just taking an extra day off and leaving yesterday, you started scrolling through your phone, looking for assistance.

The towing company answered the line in a sharp tone, already dismissive of your worries. It was idiots like you that kept them working Christmas Eve, and their annoyance was evident.

“What can I do for you?” a man, testy and older, answered.

You explained the situation, and received a less than understanding response.

“Sorry, miss, but we’ll be two hours out. There’s been a few other incidents, and we’re short-staffed. We can give you another call when we free up.”

“But I need to be somewhere tonight. There must be something you can do?”

“Sorry,” he said again, but it was clear he wasn’t very sorry at all. “If I were you, I’d start making calls… See if there’s anyone brave enough to come pick you up in this weather.”

He hung up on you.

You groaned, throwing your hands up in the air. It was unlikely that anyone would want to be your savior tonight. Your family was still 70 miles away, and everyone else you knew had other plans for Christmas Eve.

But.

You knew this stretch of road well, were more familiar with it than most streets along here. It was a country highway that wrapped around the smaller town before leading you onto the interstate, one direction to your hometown, the other to the city you lived in.

Of course, it was here that your car had decided to break down, just ten minutes away from your ex-boyfriend’s house — a man you knew would be home, and certainly wouldn’t be afraid of the weather.

In fact, he was the only one that wasn’t a tedious drive away, that could save you from the unfortunate situation you’d found yourself in.

You squeezed your eyes tight, trying not to cry.

Calling Levi seemed your only choice — as pathetic of a choice as that was. You weren’t even sure he’d still have your number, or if he’d answer. But, your hands were becoming numb, the temperatures were dropping with the sun, and you weren’t sure how long you could stay out here without getting frostbite.

Still, on the second ring, you faltered, licking your lips.

Maybe this was a bad idea. It’d been three years, after all. For all you knew, he could’ve had a new partner, could’ve been engaged. He could’ve moved across the country without any warning — you had no idea.

Your hand started to fall away from your cheek, phone dropping with it. But the familiar tone stopped you, interrupting the third ring.

“Hello?”

You exhaled, unprepared for the wave of emotions that washed over you from that simple word. Levi sounded exactly like you’d remembered, his voice even, almost monotone, nothing in it betraying his emotions.

Still, it made your stomach twist. You couldn’t help but recall a time when that word had held a hint of affection in it.

“Levi,” you said, pushing away that line of thought to keep your voice steady. “You answered.”

He was, apparently, just as surprised as you were. There was a long pause on the other end, before he resumed talking.

“I almost didn’t,” Levi admitted, releasing a breath of air that had to have come through his nose. “I didn’t want to. But, I couldn’t think of a good reason you’d call me on Christmas Eve unless—”

“I’m so sorry,” you cut him off, apologizing. You pinched the bridge of your nose, shivering in the cold. “I wouldn’t be calling if I weren’t desperate. but my car broke down — I was driving back to my parents’ house, and the tow company can’t come yet…” you rushed through the story, sparing too many details. “But it’s freezing, and you were the closest person I could think to call.”

He went silent once again.

That was when you started to realize how crazy you’d been to call him. The last conversation you’d had was around this time of year, both of you stiffly walking through all the reasons you were worse for each other than you were better.

This was a horrible idea.

“I’m sorry,” you said again, shaking your head. Tears of embarrassment flooded your waterline. You weren’t sure they’d ever stopped. “This was stupid. Fuck. Forget it. I’ll—”

“Where are you?”

“What?”

“Where are you?” Levi repeated, insistent. “I only answered because I figured it was an emergency. Looks like I was right. So where are you?”

Your heart flipped at the notion that, even if it was a small part of him, he still cared.

After fifteen more minutes of shivering in your freezing car, you ended up back at Levi’s house. The same house he’d lived in for ten years, and probably would live in until he died.

Levi wasn’t a homebody — in fact, he liked to spend more time outside of the house than he probably spent in it. He traveled a lot, sometimes for work, sometimes for fun. But it was a home that had belonged to his mother, until she passed away when he was freshly eighteen.

Even if he hated living in this suburban town, you didn’t think he could stomach to part with the home he’d been raised in. One of the only things he had left of his mom.

It was almost heartbreaking, that you knew such intimate details about a person that had faded out of your life.

Levi’s house looked about the same, but Levi… Well, he looked incredible. As far as breakups went, he must have gotten the better end of it.

His black hair was lightly dusted with snow when he helped you out of his car, red cheeks a bright contrast against his pale skin. Time may have dulled your memory of him, but you could have sworn his eyes had gotten even more blue in the time you’d been apart.

God, he was gorgeous. How had you ever been with someone like him?

“Would you like any tea?” Levi asked, taking you to the kitchen. Not like you’d forgotten how to get there. You’d spent enough time in his house to know the layout, right down to the foundation.

“Sure,” you said, still shivering, even with the heat blasting in the house. “Thank you, Levi. Not just for the tea, but for helping me. I won’t stay long, I promise.”

Levi was rummaging through his cabinet, and looked over his shoulder, back at you. Something rest on the edge of his tongue, but he said nothing, busying himself once more.

The kitchen was the same as you’d remembered. None of the furniture had changed, but he’d added new appliances, changed out some of the cookware. Poinsettias were in the middle of the table, the only festive thing in the room.

You stared at them, and frowned, the tension between the two of you palpable. While you’d met each other once again like you’d never been parted, there still an underlying current of mistrust and uncertainty. A feeling that was expected to linger.

The break-up between you hadn’t been nasty, but you hadn’t parted on the best of terms, either. You and Levi had always argued… a lot. Half the time, it didn’t mean anything, but you couldn’t stop yourself from spitting something mean when you got angry.

It was your similarities that drove you apart, not your differences. You were both so neat, you fought over where things were meant to go. You were both independent, you grew frustrated with sharing space and compromises.

You were both stubborn, and never admitted to being wrong, even when it caused a rift between you and split you apart for good.

Of course, the worst issue was your tendency to bottle up your feelings, rather than talk through them. A problem that Levi shared — meaning that every little thing between you was brushed under the rug, only to trip you up later.

Levi brought the steaming mug over, pushing it to you across the table. You took a small sip of it, blinking at him over the edge of ceramic.

“My favorite tea?” you asked, recognizing the taste of it immediately. “You remembered.”

“I wasn’t sure if you still liked it, but I’ve kept it around anyway,” Levi said, and, as if realizing what he’d admitted, continued, “It grew on me. I drink it now.”

You smiled. It was small and sad, mourning all the things you’d lost, but the sentiment warmed you all the same. You remembered Levi loved earl grey in the mornings, and chamomile before bed. In the fall, he preferred rooibos, the color and flavor reminded him of the autumn leaves.

Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t like any of those things, anymore.

“I’m glad you like it now,” you said, humming. “You never did, before.”

It sounded like a jab, even if you didn’t mean it as one. Levi stiffened, only slightly, before he released the tension and snorted, tightening his grip around the mug.

You glanced at his hands, slender and pale, veins purple under his skin. Hands that had once roamed all over your body, slipped inside you, pulling you apart from the seams.

That wasn’t a path you wanted to go down. You blinked, pushing away that line of thought as your stomach flipped, and prayed he hadn’t noticed your staring.

“Anyway,” Levi coughed, clearing his throat.

You nearly shrunk from embarrassment, certain that he had discerned your thoughts, but Levi wasn’t looking at you at all. His eyes were fixed on the clock across the room, watching the hand rotate around the frame.

“You were visiting your family. How have they been?”

Safe conversation, easy conversation. The kind that you could have had with any stranger, even if Levi knew all your family by name, knew your Christmas traditions. You repeated old history anyway, like you were meeting him for the first time, sharing weekend plans with an acquaintance before going your separate ways.

The two of you chatted for a while, sipping on your teas, all the while, avoiding the topic of his holiday plans — if only to sidestep the discomfort that came with hearing he had none. Not that that was shameful, of course. Plenty of people did nothing for the holidays, didn’t want to.

But, Levi had always come home with you for Christmas, for five years. Everyone loved him. Although you’d been nervous, at first, Levi fit right in, made himself comfortable with those that you cherished. He was polite, even though his sarcasm often bled through. But, that only made him funnier, in the eyes of everyone you held dear. They’d always given him two sets of gifts — for Christmas and his birthday — excited to watch him open them.

Levi had always been so stoic when he responded with a stiff thank you, but you could see how touched he was, how pleased to be integrating himself so easily into your life.

He’d made your holidays better than they’d ever been.

Now, he spent them alone.

You couldn’t help but feel like your breakup had taken something special away from him, something he should’ve gotten to keep, even whilst you were separated. Maybe you could invite him home with you, just so your cousins could play one more round of cards with him and lose.

Melancholia flowered in your chest, and you, then, yearned for those moments, the ones you’d kept so dear.

How had everything gone so wrong?

Your conversation stalled. You looked at each other, unsure what to say next.

Shifting anxiously in your seat, you stood, as if for the first time realizing that you were in Levi Ackerman’s house, and you shouldn’t have been. That you were having cordial conversation with a man you swore to never speak to again, and it was like falling back into a routine, it was normal.

And that was the worst thing about it — you knew why’d you’d broken up, but right now, you could hardly recall a good reason.

“I’m sorry,” you said for the millionth time that evening, eyes flashing towards the clock. It had only been thirty minutes, but the snow was getting worse and your tea was cold. “I should call my parents and let them know I won’t be home tonight. Hopefully the roads will be—”

“Wait.” Levi reached out, grabbing your hand before you could stand and make your exit.

Your eyes flashed down to where you touched, at the same time his did, before you uncomfortably broke away. Levi blinked, then chewed the inside of his cheek, his mouth still drawn into that unexpressive, thin line.

“What?” you asked, after too many seconds of silence.

Levi inhaled, then dropped his head, jaw working as he looked away. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, over the past two years.”

Your breath caught in your chest. “About?”

You already knew the answer.

“When we—” He licked his lips, eyes narrowing at the microwave, before they met your own. “Decided to end it.”

Decided to end it. What a harsh way of putting it, but you supposed it was true. A final round in the passionate romance you’d had. A break-up seemed too simple for what you’d been, when it had ripped your heart out of your chest.

“Oh,” you said, swallowing.

“I know you might not want to have this conversation,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I need to say what I should’ve a long time ago. That I’m sorry.” Levi’s eyes were on you then, a more intense shade than you’d ever seen before. You froze, feeling unable to move, locked in the storminess of his gaze. “So many things were my fault. All the times I was dismissive, the times I was angry. All the times I didn’t communicate when I should’ve.” He released a breath, and despite his bravado, you realized he was just as nervous as you were. “I didn’t know how to love you like you wanted, and I’m sorry that I did such a bad job of it.”

You blinked, watching him shift in his chair. “Levi…” you said slowly, softly, the word agonizing as it left his lips.

“I know that doesn’t make it right, but I need you to know. I am sorry. You deserved better.”

That, alone, brought you close to tears, that he seemed to be taking the blame for all the things that went wrong. Putting it on himself, when it was both of you, incapable of working together. “Levi, I’m sorry too,” you blinked back your tears, setting aside your pride. You’d already lost enough dignity, what was a little more? “You loved me just fine. Maybe I just couldn’t appreciate what I had. I never tried hard enough to make it work.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No,” Levi huffed, “it’s—” But then he stopped, gathering himself, catching the fall, right back into the same old routine. You looked down at your hands, embarrassed. “We weren’t bad for each other. Nothing we ever did was bad for each other.” It sounded like a question, even if it wasn’t.

“It must have been,” you said, in a small voice. “Otherwise…”

Otherwise, you’d still be together.

Levi smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His hands clenched and unclenched on the table. “I should’ve called you, when you left. I shouldn’t have let you walk away.”

“But you did.”

“I did,” he breathed. “And I regret it every day of my life.”

You looked up at him, eyes shining at the realization. He still wanted you, maybe even still loved you.

And as much as you cared for him, as much as your heart still bloomed in your chest at the sight of him, you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

“Levi—” you began, hoping to dispel the conversation. But he didn’t let it get that far, voice cracking at the start of his sentence.

“I mean it. I think about it all the time. About you. You were my friend as much as you were my partner, and I wanted you forever. I miss you. I—” Levi cut himself off, there, at the growing look of fear on your face, the knowledge that he was going to let something slip he shouldn’t.

It tugged at your heartstrings all the same, and you looked away, wrapping yourself up in your arms.

Silence fell across the room, the only sound the howling wind outside, a flurry of snow crashing against the window. Levi waited, patiently, for you to be the one to break the silence — and you summoned up all your courage, all your honesty, for a response.

“I would be lying, if I said I didn’t think about it too… What it would be like to try again.”

Levi looked up, blue eyes narrow, but sharp with anticipation. “You—”

“I miss you too, Levi.” It felt like carving your heart out of your chest and handing it to him on a platter. “But it couldn’t be like it was before. Where we talked to each other about everything except for what really mattered. We can’t.” you swallowed, shaking your head. “I can’t do that again.”

“I know.” Levi licked his lips. “Is that something… You would want?”

Was it? Was Levi truly what you wanted, or were you not thinking clearly, only remembering the good times amongst all the bad. Were you just yearning for an idealization of love, a feeling that you’d been missing since splitting with Levi? Was it him you really wanted, or just someone to call your own?

But you knew the answer. It was obvious.

“Yes,” you answered, so quiet you weren’t sure he could hear it. “I would… I do want that. Maybe that’s why I didn’t hesitate to call you tonight.”

Levi didn’t smile, but his eyes brightened, the storminess fading away so they looked like the sky. The cloud of grey above him melted away, and he seemed even younger than he had before, caught in the promises of adoration, akin to a boy in a schoolyard.

“You can spend Christmas with me. Your birthday,” you said, hesitantly, not knowing if you’d even make it home, if you’d be stuck here. If that kind of invitation was not yours to give. “If that’s something you’d want.”

“It is,” Levi answered softly, without questioning it, gripping your hand across the table. “I would’t want to spend it any other way.”

You smiled at each other, then, caught up in the glow of Christmas lights and the snow outside, a shaky vow holding between you. Maybe things wouldn’t change — maybe they would go back to how it’d been before, neither of you ever saying what you really meant. Maybe you’d hurt each other worse than you ever had before.

But you loved him — you loved each other. And that could be enough.

thank you for reading! ❤︎ reblogs and comments are appreciated!!! i might write a pt 2 if there is enough interest, but i wanted to finish this before christmas ◡̈

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carlottawllms · 2 months ago

Text

Last Kiss

Mason Mount x Reader Angst / Fluff Autor’s note: SURPRISE 🥳 I’m not back, I’m sorry, but this has been sitting in my drafts for way too long and I once promised @bluesmason to get it done for her, so here we are. This isn’t even close to being my best work, but I promise I tried my best and I feel like it’s on an okay-enough level to be posted.

If you feel like it, let me know what you think. Enjoy! 💕

You’d lost track of how often you’d checked the time within the past 30 minutes, but it had been often enough to realise he wasn’t coming home like he’d promised.

Sighing, you raised your gaze to the ceiling. Tears were burning behind your eyes at the thought of him having forgotten; again, but you refused to let them fall. There had been far too many times lately, that you’d cried because of that dickhead you called your boyfriend.

Not anymore though.

You’d promised yourself that. Yourself and your dignity. You were worth far more than that. You were worth someone making an effort for you. Someone keeping the promises they’d made.

You were worth being seen as an equal part of the relationship instead of just an annoying appendage that kept asking for attention and time.

Because that’s what you’d been feeling more often than not lately. Like someone who was taken for granted. Maid, cook, girlfriend when it suited him. But as soon as you asked him to show the smallest bit of effort to support you, it was too much. You were too much.

But you were done with it.

With a newfound strength, you got up from the table and grabbed the bag you’d oh so wisely packed this morning.

The whole day you’d been praying Mason would prove you wrong and be back in time for you both to leave to celebrate your promotion, but just like the 7 times before, your gut feeling hadn’t betrayed you.

“I tried.”, you whispered sadly when you placed an envelope on the kitchen counter, knowing it was where he was guaranteed to find it once he was back home. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart broke as you let your gaze wander over the kitchen and living room one last time. Many beautiful memories were attached not only to both rooms, but to the whole house that you’d called home for the last two years.

You still remembered the look on his face right before he told you he loved you for the very first time. The two of you had been cuddling on the sofa, you safely in his arms when Mason had pulled away slightly. His eyes had been the softest you’d ever seen them, the nerves evident on his features, but he’d smiled and whispered those three words.

When had he stopped?

For weeks, you’d wrecked your brain, trying to find an answer to that question, but it had been hopeless and you’d come to the conclusion that there was no reason. He’d simply stopped loving you. And you had no idea how to be something he’d miss.

You’d tried – a hell of a lot – but you couldn't do it anymore.

It was time. Time to prioritise yourself; to protect yourself.

With that thought, you hurried down the hall and closed the front door behind you. And with it a chapter of your life you’d never thought you would. There was a time before Mason and there was a time with Mason, but you’d never thought there would be a time after Mason.

You’d never imagined you’d end like this.

Mason was out of breath when he reached his front door. He was late, well aware of it and he hoped you wouldn’t be too mad at him, but the media team had asked him to stay back and take some trial shoots for the newest merch collection. It was his job, he couldn’t just refuse, right?

“y/n?”, he called whilst entering the house. “I’m late, I’m sorry I was held up. y/n? Love?”

But there was no answer, just silence.

“Fuck.”, he cursed, realising you’d already left, but he knew he could still make it if he just hurried a little. You’d said you’d have to leave at 6, but the event wouldn’t start until 8. With it being 7:15 now, it would be a bit tight, but-

His thoughts came to a screeching halt the second his gaze fell on the bright white envelope sitting on his kitchen island. It wasn’t so much the envelope itself that had his heart dropping to his stomach, but the neatly folded hoodie right next to it.

It was your favourite one. The one you’d basically stolen from him the second you’d gotten into this relationship. He hadn’t seen it since…

Mason’s hands shook when he ripped the envelope open and pulled out the handwritten letter you’d left.

When his knees suddenly buckled, Mason just about managed to catch himself and sink down on the chair.

“No.”, he breathed. “No, this…this…FUCK!”

He buried his face in his hands as a sudden urge of anger rushed through him. You had been the best thing that had ever, like ever happened to him and instead of protecting you and this relationship, he’d let it slip through his fingers.

No, he’d singlehandedly fucked it up and pushed you down the cliff. Slowly but surely, he’d let go of your hand and now you’d left for good.

He should’ve seen it coming and done everything to prevent it from happening, but instead he felt as if he’d been watching his downfall from first row:

You were mad; the look on your face more than obvious when he slowly inched closer. You’d just gotten back from this thing with your friends – something he’d been meant to attend as well, but just like the last couple of times, work had held him up.

“I’m sorry, baby. I know I-”

“You promised to be there.”, you said; your voice uncharacteristically cold. “You promised Mason. And yet there I was on my own again. This was important to me. I asked you to be on time this one time cause I wanted you to be there with me, hell I told them you’d be there. And again, you just didn’t care.”

“That’s not tru-”

“Do I even matter to you? Cause right now I feel more like I'm an annoying appendage that's only good enough when it suits you.”

He’d promised it wasn’t what he felt at all. He’d told you he loved you and swore that the next time he’d be there; 100%.

“I swear, I’ll just leave if you do this again, Mason.”

But instead of sticking to his word, he’d let you down – big time. And the worst thing was that he’d done it on multiple occasions: being late, forgetting altogether, cancelling last minute via text.

It wasn’t an excuse, but there had been so much going on lately, he’d simply struggled to set his priorities right.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”, he whispered, feeling like the worst person in the world for failing you like this. Tears pricked in his eyes, but he knew it hadn’t really sunken in yet that you’d actually left.

Not when your familiar scent was still lingering in the air, making him feel as if you’d come home any second now. But you wouldn’t.

“I really fucked this up.” Mason ran his hand over his face before grabbing the hoodie you’d left behind. It still smelled like you, making memories of the first time he’d seen you wearing it resurface:

It was raining when Mason stepped out of the plane and down the ladder, the smell of rain fresh off the pavement one of his favourites, but he didn’t even notice it this time; his mind already set on the only person he wanted to see: you.

You’d called him the night before and told him you’d pick him up so you could spend the night at his after having been apart for nearly two weeks and he’d never been happier.

After making it through passport control, he was quick in hurrying towards the exit and when the sliding doors opened his gaze flitted over the small crowd of girlfriends and wives waiting for their partners.

He knew you wouldn’t be front row jumping up and down, so he focused more on the women in the back and soon enough, his gaze fell on you. Your hair was up in a messy bun, some loose strands framing your face and a small smile on your lips, but what had his heart leaping out of his chest was the sweater you were wearing. It was one of his favourites and he wondered when you’d stolen it without him noticing, but then again, he didn’t really care.

You looked too adorable basically drowning in the fabric and you seemed cosy, with your hands disappearing in the long sleeves.

It didn’t take long for you to notice him, a brighter smile washing over your face almost immediately when your eyes locked and Mason’s heart skipped a beat. You were always beautiful to him, but in that moment dressed in his clothes and those tired eyes on him, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and he couldn’t believe his luck to have you waiting for him.

He hurried over to you, observing the way you said goodbye to Laura before turning towards him. It was obvious how you wanted to jump right into his arms, but feeling everyone’s eyes on you, you held back and waited for him to reach you before wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close.

“Hi love.”, Mason whispered. With his nose buried in your hair, he breathed in the familiar scent of your shampoo. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”, you admitted quietly and after a second of enjoying his heartbeat against your cheek, you pulled away slightly. Head tipped back a little, you gazed into his warm brown eyes. Your fingers played with the short hair on the back of his head and when Mason finally leaned down to meet your lips in a soft kiss, you wrapped your arms back around his neck.

Mason’s heart squeezed uncomfortably in his chest. He could still feel your arms wrapped around him; the way your warm hands would hold onto his shoulders and the way it would feel to have you kissing him.

“Fuck!”

He knew it would be a futile attempt, but he still reached for his phone and tried to call you. Obviously, it went straight to voicemail – if cause you’d turned it off or simply rejected his call, he didn’t know.

But having known you for a while, he knew it would be a futile attempt to reach out to you again today. You were someone who needed time for things to settle. He’d try tomorrow.

There were no tears as you drove through the streets. You knew it would come crashing down on you soon enough, crushing your heart and making you hurt like never before, but in that moment, all you could feel was emptiness.

For years all you’d known was Mason right next to you; holding your hand through every storm and fighting your corner. No matter the fight, you knew at the end of the day, you’d make up and hug it out.

But this time it would be different. He wouldn’t come home and apologise quietly. He wouldn’t smile at you softly and tell you it’s okay and you’d both messed up. You wouldn’t cuddle up on the couch, holding onto each other for dear life.

This time, you were on your own.

When you arrived at the restaurant your boss had rented for this years promotion event, you felt like everything but going in. The thought of the empty seat with Mason’s name tag right next to yours made you feel sick to the stomach and you weren’t sure how to survive the evening.

You’d been looking forward to it for weeks now, excited at the prospect of finally claiming the reward you’d been working your ass off for and the idea of having Mason right beside you…

Well…it wasn’t more than a fantasy anymore.

Despite the positivity of you getting your promotion, it was an awful evening.

You weren’t sure how you’d managed to get through the evening without shedding a single tear considering how badly they’d been burning behind your eyes and threatening to spill over whenever someone asked about the empty seat next to you.

“He woke up sick this morning and couldn’t attend.”, you’d been repeating throughout the whole evening, earning pity looks and encouraging replies that he surely was proud and rooting for you from home.

It had been awful.

After driving around aimlessly for a while, trying to calm yourself down, you eventually parked your car in front of the only house you thought was appropriate.

You knew Anouska or Laura would’ve taken you in; hell you could’ve driven to London to Sophia or Ben, but putting the burden of keeping it a secret on either of Mason’s friends shoulders felt unfair and nothing you wanted to do.

This was something between you and him. His friends didn’t have to be involved.

And your best friend? Well, it was her birthday tomorrow and no matter just how much the aftermath of today would hurt you, you wouldn’t ruin the day for her. So asking her to stay was off the table.

Slowly, with your bag hanging from your shoulder, you walked up the familiar front door. You knew there was no need for it, but it still felt humiliating – having to ask your brother and his perfect family to let you stay cause yet another relationship of yours had failed.

Elliott opened the door with that radiant smile like he always would, but his expression dropped when he spotted his little sister standing in front of his door with red-rimmed eyes and a heavy looking bag in her hand.

“y/n? C’mon in.” He gently pulled you inside by your elbow and closed the door before taking another look at you. “What happened?”

“Can I stay for a while?”

Elliott was quick in nodding. “Course you can. You’re always welcome here, you know that. Do you just…want to, I don’t know, talk about it maybe?”

“I…erm…not really, to be honest.”, you whispered as you could feel the tears already brimming in your eyes again. “It’s just…I…look, Mason and I we erm…broke up and I don’t think I’m ready to…to talk about it.”

“I’m really sorry, y/n.”, he breathed before pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s okay that you don’t want to talk now, but if you ever feel like you need someone to listen, I’m here, okay?”

He kissed the top of your head and squeezed you, causing the tears to finally spill over.

“Thanks.”, you sniffed.

Elliott quickly set up the guest bedroom for you and after he handed you a cup of your favourite tea, he left you alone and when the door gently snapped closed behind him, leaving you in a safe place for the first time this night, you broke down.

It all came crashing down; the disappointment, the loss, the all-consuming pain you felt all over your body, but especially in your heart. You’d been through break-ups before, but not a single one of those had been as painful as this one.

The heartbreak over the only person you’d ever truly loved in life just hit harder.

Mason had been your everything – your best friend, your rock, your safe haven. Knowing he’d never judge you or think less of you, you’d never felt the need to pretend when you were around him. He’d made you feel safe and secure in yourself; he’d talked you up, fought your corner and showered you in as much love and care as you did him. He’d been the most perfect human being you’d ever come across.

And he’d been yours as much as you’d been his.

Sighing, you forced yourself off the bed and into the shower, convinced it would make you feel better, but when you stepped out of the steaming bathroom and rummaged through your bag for some comfortable clothes, the only thing you found was an oversized, dark-blue hoodie.

Mason’s.

Packing your bag, you hadn’t even noticed you’d grabbed it. It must’ve been out of habit really, as you never left with one of his hoodies, considering how comfy and big they were.

Sobbing quietly, you buried your nose in the fabric, hoping it would still smell like him and when it actually did, your heart clenched painfully. You tried your best to calm yourself down as you didn’t want to alert your brother or his wife, but the overwhelming sadness made it difficult to breathe.

“I miss you so much.”, you choked, sinking to your knees. You clutched the hoodie to your chest. It wouldn’t bring Mason back, but it felt a lot like keeping your heart from breaking even further apart.

With the piece of fabric in your arms, you just stared at the wall, wondering where you’d go from here. What would you do now that you’d lost him?

You felt like all of sudden you knew nothing anymore. With Mason everything had been so obvious and so easy, but now that he was gone you just felt all over the place. Should you stay in Manchester? Or go back to London?

What if he was going to fight for you? And what if he wasn’t?

You had broken up with him, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for him to give up on you.

How could you be something he’d miss? Miss you properly, like you were missing him.

The tears had dried on your face when you eventually felt strong enough to get up and hide away under the bedsheets. Not that relocating made any difference as your thoughts still surrounded Mason and Mason only.

You wished there was a way to fix things. You wished Mason would somehow, miraculously fix it like he’d always done.

Throughout your relationship, there had hardly been anything he hadn't been able to fix. A bad mood? He’d always had a bad joke ready to cheer you up. Sadness? He’d simply taken you in his arms and held you until your heart had felt a little lighter. And whenever you’d been really down, he’d always found the right words to make you feel better.

But the one thing that would always lighten your mood? His kisses.

You were convinced they were magical and possessed the power to make everything right and you hated, how you couldn’t even remember properly the last one you’d shared.

It had been this morning. You’d been in the kitchen, preparing your lunch, when he’d joined you. He’d wrapped his arms around you, swaying you from side to side and confessed quietly how he really didn’t want to leave.

You’d laughed and started to lecture him in jest how him leaving was paying the bills, but Mason had only turned you in his arms and kissed you mid-sentence to shut you up.

He’d had a habit of doing that; kissing you when you were in the middle of saying something. It hadn’t even been long and you were missing those rude interruptions already.

You’d never thought you’d have a last kiss. And now you wished you’d focused more on how his lips had felt against yours this morning; wished you’d pulled him back in instead of ushering him out the door, thinking you’d get to kiss him again later that night.

It was like that one memory had opened the gate to hell, as memories came flooding back with no end in sight. Just like your tears.

Laughingly, you shook your head when Mason beckoned you over to him. He was the life of the party like just about always, slightly showing off without coming across as arrogant and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his antics. You hated dancing and really didn’t want to join him, but Mason being Mason, he always got what he wanted, so when you walked a little closer and he held out his hand, you took it and let yourself pull into his chest for a slow dance. “I know you hate this.”, he giggled softly, causing you to shake your head. “No, I don’t. Not when it's with you.”

Not long ago, you’d watched several videos on tiktok where women talked about random things they found attractive on their men. You’d struggled trying to come up with something yourself, as none of the things that made Mason attractive were random, but then one day, when you were looking at pre-game videos, it hit you. The way he was walking with his hands in his pockets was something so normal, yet insanely attractive to you and ever since you’d realised it, you hadn’t been able to forget about it or not notice it whenever it happened.

Barely breathing, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You knew it was a bad idea and wouldn’t do you any good, but you still opened the gallery, loosing yourself in the fond memories of happy days.

Your chest caved when realisation hit that from this point on this would be your reality. You’d have to watch his life in pictures like you used to watch him sleep peacefully right next to you.

The longer you swiped through the photos, the more rapid your breathing became. The photos turned blurry as tears you didn’t know you still had were threatening to spill over again and that’s when it hit you with full force.

You’d lost him. The best thing you’d ever had in life.

The next morning, you were woken up by someone gently brushing through your hair.

“y/n, love. How are you feeling?”

“Like death warmed up.”, you admitted, earning yourself a compassionate look from Maddie, your sister-in-law.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I…I don’t think so.”, you smiled sadly. “It’s…it just hurts a lot and…I have to try and keep it together for today. It’s Tamara’s birthday and I really don’t want to ruin it for her.”

“I think she would understand, you know?”

Tamara was your best friend and one of the most important people in your life. You’d met her in primary school and the two of you had been a package deal ever since.

You were in no mood to go – especially as she’d decided she wanted to go out partying – but you knew you couldn’t miss it without having an explanation and despite the fact you didn’t want to ruin her day, you also weren’t ready to talk about your break-up yet.

“Yeah, she would.”, you agreed. “But I don’t want to tell her yet. She’s going to worry like crazy and I just want her to enjoy her day, you know?”

“Okay.”, Maddie smiled. Whilst she wasn’t entirely happy with your decision, she understood. “There’s breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen. I know you don’t want anything, but you have to eat something. It’s just us two and I won’t pester you with questions, promise. Just know that if you want to talk at some point, I’m happy to listen.”

Tamara’s birthday was as exhausting as you’d expected it to be. Not because her and your mutual friends were, but because pretending to be happy was.

You were dancing and laughing along; trying to appear as normal as possible, but everything inside you felt like crawling into bed and crying. Your heart felt heavy and everything reminded you of Mason.

Tamara had chosen a rather posh and famous club in Manchester; one that you’d been to with Mason and some friends before. He’d sat next to you in the booth, his hand on your thigh and fingers drawing gentle shapes into your warm skin. Every once in a while, he’d kissed your cheek or forehead and whispered sweet nothings into your ear. He’d made you feel loved without doing much.

“Anyone another drink?”, Carla asked when the waiter approached. Since you’d decided to stay away from the alcohol, you ordered another virgin colada right after the others had given their orders.

In the first round, the girls had been more than confused and ready to protest when you’d given your order, but you’d brushed them off, saying you’d taken your migraine meds before and thankfully everyone had bought it.

You would’ve loved to get drunk and try to numb your pain, but alcohol really wasn’t a good idea in the setting you were in. It wouldn't have taken long for you to spill the beans and ruin the evening for everyone.

“y/n! Photo, c’mon!”, Tamara all but screeched as she pulled you into her side rather forcefully. “Say cheese!”

Quickly, you shook yourself out of it and plastered a grin on your face and hoped it didn’t look half as fake as it felt.

In Luke’s living room, Mason was hoping to distract himself from everything. After barely getting any shut eye the night before and fucking up just about everything at training, he’d confided in Luke and told him you’d left him.

Luke – equally as close to you as to Mason – had been on the brink of murdering his friend for being a stupid arsehole, but Anouska being the voice of reason had calmed him down enough for a proper talk.

Mason was scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, not really looking at anything, when a post caught his eye. “Oh.”, he breathed, his heart dropping into his tummy.

“You’re okay mate?”

Wordlessly, he handed Luke his phone. He knew he had no right to be mad, as he was the one who brought himself the misery, but he was still upset to see you all smiles in a club.

He’d thought you’d be sad after having been with him for so long; after sharing what he thought was the best time of your lives together; but the way you were smiling brightly looked everything but.

He could feel the tears burning behind his eyes, but despite his best efforts to keep them in, they slowly rolled down his raw cheeks. And he deserved it; the pain, the suffering, the tears. He deserved it all, he knew.

This morning, he’d tried calling you again – a couple of times in fact – but you hadn’t answered. Not that it was surprising, but he’d wanted to make it right, to apologise and to fight for you and you not answering wasn’t helping his case at all.

Neither did the photos Tamara had posted though. It didn’t seem like you wanted him to fight for you…you seemed happy…

“Mase, it’s her best friend’s birthday. You know y/n, she’d do everything to make sure Tamara has the best day.”

Mason sighed. Luke was right, it was just who you were. You put the people you cared about first; always focused on making sure everyone was happy before thinking about yourself. It was one of the things Mason loved about you so dearly.

“I know but…I could always tell when a smile was faked or when she was pretending in front of others. This just doesn’t-”

“It’s a photo Mase. She probably plastered that smile on her face thinking about how bloody forced it must seem. I know you think you can tell 10 times out of 10, but this is her smiling for her best friend. It’s different. Give her some time and reach out again, I’m sure this is fixable.”

Luke sounded so optimistic, Mason really wanted to believe him, but all things considered, he had fucked up so badly, he wasn’t sure there was anything left to fix. Over the span of weeks, if not months, he’d made everything but you a priority and he couldn’t even begin to imagine just how much it must’ve hurt.

“I don’t know, mate.”, he sighed. “I’ll message her later to apologise and make sure she knows I respect her decision.”

“Look, that’s just stupid. Don’t make her feel like you give up on her.”

“Luke, I’ve either ignored or forgotten any of her wishes for the past week like they didn’t matter at all. The worst thing I can do right now is ignoring her request for space as well.”

Luke sighed, contemplating taking away Mason’s phone before he could fuck up things beyond repair, but he knew that his friend was enough of an adult to make his own decisions. The two of you belonged together, there was no doubt, but there was only so much he could do to try and save a relationship that wasn’t his own.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea Mase.”

But against all warnings, he sent the message before hiding away in his bed. Not knowing that it would shatter your heart all over again.

The days following the break-up felt worse than your own personal nightmare. The years you’d spent by Mason’s side had made the roots of your feelings grow deep and since the finality of his text, it felt like every single root was being slowly and agonisingly pulled out of your heart.

Your heart hurt like a little bitch, and it got worse with every passing day. After days of crying, it shouldn't be possible for a human body to produce any more tears, but your body proved you wrong.

You agonised through every day, never really sure how you’d made it through another one.

At first you’d wanted to go to work, thinking a little distraction would do you good, but on the very first day you felt so sick at the thought of work that you’d called to take sick leave for the week.

Elliott and Maddie were doing everything they could to make sure you didn’t spiral too badly, but with you shutting down basically every attempt they could only do so much.

Most of the day, you just stayed in bed, staring at the ceiling and focusing on taking deep breaths instead of looking at photos of your failed relationship all day long.

You missed him like crazy; like you’d never missed anyone before. But then again you weren’t really surprised. Mason had been your best friend, your person. You’d thought that one day you’d marry him and up until a little while ago you’d thought he wanted the same…

It was day 5 post break-up when you left the bed for the first time. Elliott had all but threatened to call your mum and since you knew she’d kick your arse for feeling sorry for yourself, you’d peeled yourself out of bed.

“Look, I know you won’t be too fond of the idea, but I really need you to pick up some pre-ordered stuff for Maddie’s birthday tomorrow.”

“El-”

“I’d do it myself, but I have a meeting in less than 10 minutes and I really don’t want Maddie to pick it up herself.”

You sighed but nodded slowly. Going out there and actually talking to people was pretty much the opposite of what you wanted to do, but your brother and his wife had been nothing short of supportive those last days and even in your current sorry state, you didn’t want Maddie to go and pick up food for her own birthday.

The short walk and breathing in some of that crisp air, as well as the thought of doing something good for someone else, made you feel a little better, but the second you stepped foot into the restaurant, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was. Sitting at one of the tables to your right. Your first instinct was to look who he was with and whilst it threw you off entirely to see him in the first place you were relieved to see Luke sitting opposite of him.

You realised too late that the latter had noticed you too. His eyes locking on yours with what you could only describe as a hopeful look, but you just shook your head; wordlessly telling him not to alert Mason of your presence.

He visibly sighed but returned his attention to Mason. Just like you did.

He was sitting sideways to you and you couldn't see much, but it seemed like he was just staring straight ahead and not taking in much of what Luke was saying. Slumped in his seat, his usually tamed hair was a mess on top of his head.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked sad as even from your position you could tell that his eyes looked nothing like the bright ones you were used to, but his text from a few days ago was still looming in the back of your head; painfully reminding you that he wasn’t willing to fight for you and you shook yourself out of it.

He wasn’t sad…it was just what you wanted to believe to mend your broken heart. He wasn’t missing you the way you were missing him.

Straightening up, you made your way over to the till. You chose the long way, to stay hidden away from Luke and your ex and thankfully a member of staff was already there to enter your order number into the system. With a Just a minute he went to grab it from the back.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Sorry I don’t have much time.”, you said bluntly in hopes of brushing him off, but Luke didn’t budge.

“How are you.”

You couldn’t help but make a face. Was he being serious? “Great obviously.”

“y/n.”, Luke sighed quietly. “He miss-”

“Don’t even dare going there, Luke.”, you shook your head, unwilling to hear the words missing you and have your heart breaking all over again. “He messaged me a few days ago, telling me he respects my decision. That’s quite the opposite of missing me, if you ask me.”

Luke sighed again. “I know.”, he agreed quietly. “I told him not to do it cause I knew what it would look like. It’s just…he saw the photos Tamara posted and concluded that you’re better off without him, that you’re happier without him. I…he’s a guy and…we don’t handle reaction very well, you know?”

“Wow…didn’t think you’d actually be on his side after everything.”

“I’m not trying to make up excuses here, don’t get me wrong, y/n. I’m just trying to explain what he’s going through and…he’s heartbroken. He really is.”

“Quite hard to believe.”, you dismissed, trying to avoid letting what he was saying affect you. “He never even attempted to fight for us. A very few calls and then that fucking text…and you really want me to believe he misses me?”

“Remember the photo you both had in your car? The drive safe, I love you one? His still in there.”

“He probably just forgot it’s there.”

“No, cause whilst yours is, well maybe was visible in the compartment at the front, his is dangling from the mirror.”

Unsure of what you should say, you stayed quiet.

“Look, I know it’s a shitty situation and I know I don’t really know what led to all of this, but…just…think about it, y/n. He knows he fucked up and he misses you like crazy. Please just take my word for it.”

“As much as I want to believe that, I won’t reach out Luke. I ended things because he constantly made me feel like an afterthought in his life and I’m really sick of it. It hurt, you know? If he misses me like you say he does, it’s on him.”

For a few days you heard nothing from Mason. No attempted calls, no messages, just a big fat nothing. After your conversation with Luke you’d thought that maybe, just maybe he’d meant it and Mason would reach out and at least attempt to fix what wasn’t more than a shattered relationship anymore, but it looked like your gut feeling had been right – once again.

You tried your best to get your life back under control. It was hard, but somehow you managed to show up in your office after taking a week off and get some actual work done without starting to cry.

Your brother and his family as well as Tamara, who you’d told eventually, were your biggest supporters and you knew if it wasn’t for them, you’d probably still be rotting away in Elliott’s guest bedroom.

Instead, with their help, you’d found a cute little flat, decorated it and made it feel like your safe space. Step one on a very long road of healing.

A knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts. Ollie, your boss’ assistant smiled hesitantly as he came in.

“This arrived for you this morning.” You furrowed your brows as he handed you a small package. It didn’t look like something a client would send; wrapped in light green wrapping paper and a small white tulip sitting on top.

“Who sent it?”

Ollie just shrugged. “Diane didn’t say. She just said it was left for you at the reception and since I went to grab something anyway, I figured I could just take it up to you.”

“Thank you, Ollie.”, you smiled and with a shy nod, he hurried out of your room.

The tips of your fingers traced the outlines of the package. Who would send you a gift on a random Wednesday? It was far from being your birthday, definitely not Christmas and whilst Tamara was one for sending gifts you knew that right now, she preferred other ways of being there for you.

Carefully, you unwrapped it and when you came face to face with the book you’d been meaning to buy, your breath caught in the back of your throat. Not because it was something you’d been wanting for half an eternity, no, but because there was only one person, you’d told about it.

After days of silence and the feeling that he’d given up on you without even trying, he sent you a book completely out of the blue and you weren’t sure what to feel.

It was so…unexpected. Cause whilst Mason had always been one to gift you small things, it hadn’t happened in a while.

When you eventually picked the book up, to throw away the wrapping paper, a small piece of paper fell out. You furrowed your brows at the sight of Mason’s obvious handwriting.

I know, I fucked up. Big time. And I know a book won’t make up for it, but I want you to know that you didn’t just exist in my life as a pretty sidepiece, but that I actually care about you. A lot. I know we might never be the same, but I still want to make you feel seen. Until you’ll maybe be ready to talk to me. Or tell me to stop and leave you be.

Staring at the words you’d read over and over again, you weren’t sure what to think of them. All of it was bringing up a lot of mixed emotions. Emotions you’d tried to bury six feet under.

You’d hoped they stay there. Buried in the depth of your heart, safely locked away never to surface again, but the gifts kept chipping away at the brick walls you’d built.

They weren’t big or expensive gifts by any means. No jewellery, fancy clothes or whatever Mason’s never ending money could buy. No, they were small, carefully chosen and oh so thoughtful:

A rare postcard from the small park in Portsmouth you’d spent so much time in – alone and with Mason. A box of your favourite biscuits from the bakery in London you’d always spent way to much money at. Sweets you’d stocked your shared cupboards with, bath additives with your comfort smell…

After everything you’d been through lately, you hadn’t expected him to remember such small things about you. For months you’d felt like an afterthought, but all these things made you wonder if he’d actually cared more than you’d thought.

But no matter how much these things warmed your heart, you couldn’t help but notice that the word ‘sorry’ was missing. Sure, the gifts were his way of expressing it in the most genuine way he could without saying it, but even the note in the book didn’t state those 5 letters.

And whilst you truly appreciated his attempts, they weren’t enough for you to give in and message him first.

With a grim expression on your face, you turned the TV off. United had lost – again – and ruined not only Mason’s first time back as a starter, but simultaneously the goal he’d worked so hard for.

You hadn’t even intended to watch the game – football not really something you were overly interested in – but Mason being back in the starting lineup after months on the sidelines had somehow managed to convince you.

Sighing, you stood up and began tidying up your living room. It wasn’t messy by any means, but you had to distract yourself from thinking about your smile that had been way too bright when you’d seen him entering the pitch and your reaction that most definitely had been more enthusiastic than you cared to admit.

You didn’t want to care anymore. Not after everything he’d put you through. But your heart was still doubling over in your chest whenever you saw that smile of his.

A little while later – you were about to start preparing your dinner – it knocked at your door.

Wiping your hands on the dishtowel, you headed to open the door, only to be met with the last face you’d expected to see.

“Mason?”

“Hi.”, he said softly, a careful half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What are you doing here?”

“I erm…” His eyes dropped to the towel now clutched tightly in your hands. “I just…wanted to see you, I guess?”

“Okay?”, you nodded slowly, not really sure what to make of the whole situation. Especially of the thought that someone from your small circle had apparently told him your new address. “Congrats on your comeback. I’m glad you’re back out there.”

“Thanks.” A small smile darted over his face. “So am I. It was…difficult.”

The following silence was awkward, definitely making you both uncomfortable, but before you could think of stepping back and closing the door on him, he sighed.

“Those gifts, I-” Mason looked pained as he was trying to explain himself. “I know they’re not…enough or remotely anything that would make any of this better. It’s just…did you like them?”

“Did I like them? I mean…yeah sure, they were thoughtful just…none of them were what I really needed, you know?”

Mason nodded, seemingly understanding what you were alluding to. “Can I…I mean, can we talk?”

After deliberately taking a few seconds to make a decision you eventually nodded and stepped aside to let him in.

Once in your living room, Mason took a moment and let his gaze sweep over your thoughtfully chosen furniture and decor. You couldn’t read him like you used to, but the sad smile darting over his face was enough to make you hope he was thinking of your once shared house. The house you’d spent a lot of time decorating and making feel like home.

Turning around slowly, he buried his hands in the pockets of his joggers. “Listen, I’m sorry, y/n.”, he said quietly.

“You never mentioned it before.” Your voice was tight, and your arms crossed defensively over your chest. Him being in your safe space and ripping down the small walls you’d so carefully built over the past few weeks made you feel a lot more vulnerable than you liked.

“Writing it down, I don’t know…it would’ve been too easy. I didn’t…I didn’t want to. I wanted to tell you, not mention it on paper like I don’t mean it.” Mason dropped his gaze to the floor in shame before taking a deep breath and forcing his eyes back on yours. “I really am sorry for everything, y/n.”

“You hurt me.”, you gulped.

“I know.”

“No, Mason, you don’t.”, you shook your head. Your voice broke slightly, and you tried your best to blink back the tears threatening to spill over, but you knew it was to no avail.

“I know you think you do, but you really don’t. You don’t know how much it hurt feeling like everything I did and worked for didn’t matter to you at all. Your stuff, no matter what, was always more important. Yours always came first cause you’re the oh so amazing footballer and I’m just little miss corporate girly with a random boring job…or life for that matter.”

“y/n, I-” Mason looked like he was about to cry, but everything you’d been holding back for months came out all at once at full force.

“I didn’t ask for much, Mason, you know that. I supported you as much as I could. I attended those galas and events and whatever you wanted me by your side for and guess what? Every single time you asked, I could’ve burst with pride cause it was me you wanted there, not anyone else. But the very few times I asked you to be by my side, to support me, something more important came up and you stood me up.”

Angrily, you wiped at the tears rolling down your reddened cheeks.

“I’m so, so sorry, y/n.”, Mason choked. “I never meant to-”

“I just wanted to be good enough. To be more important than football. Just once.”

The admission caught Mason off guard. It cut right through his heart and made his knees buckle. “You have been more than enough, y/n. I swear, you’ve always been more than enough for me. You’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Slowly, you shook your head. “It didn’t feel like it, Mason. You pushed me to the side and made me feel like I’m not worth your time, but you know what? It’s completely fucked up, but despite it all, I couldn’t help but hope that something would remind you and make you wish you’d stayed.”

“I wish I had. I promise.”, Mason sniffed. “Not just that. I wish I’d been better, you know? Better for you, better for us. I struggled with my priorities cause so many people expected different things from me and-”

“Not me.”, you said quietly. “I never expected you to be something special or be here all the time or put football on the back burner. I just wanted to be an important part of your life too. Not just some second thought.”

You hadn’t noticed Mason carefully stepping closer, but when he carefully grabbed your hand in his, you let him.

His fingers felt warm and familiar against yours. The touch reminding you of the good times you were missing so badly.

“You were – are – an important part of my life, y/n.”, Mason promised. It was quiet, but confident. He made it sound like it was true. “I know I wasn’t the best at showing you and for that I’m sorry. Genuinely sorry. I’m sorry for all the disappointment and hurt I caused you and…I know I don’t get to ask anything from you, but I’d love to show you that I still want you. That I’ll fight for whatever is left between us. Because I still love you, y/n.”

Staring at the way his hand was still gripping yours tightly, you took a moment to let his words sink in. To let yourself feel all the emotions bubbling up inside of you.

You were still hurt and angry, but you still appreciated everything he’d said. Especially as you knew that he wasn’t a man of many emotional words normally, but liked to use jokes for covering up deeper emotions.

“I…I can’t just go back to where we left off, Mason.”, you sighed. “This…I know you’re sorry and I believe you…it’s just…”

“You don’t trust me anymore.”, he finished for you and when you nodded, the defeated look on his face pulled at all your heartstrings at once. “I understand, y/n. I promise I do and I don’t expect this to change quickly. It’s just…if you still see a chance for us, I’d like to take the time and prove myself to you.”

Mason brushed his thumb over your knuckles. His brown eyes bore into yours, somewhat pleading for you to say yes and give him the chance he didn’t deserve.

“You have to put in the work, Mason.”, you said quietly. “I’m not expecting you to be there all the time or make me your priority. I know football will always be up there and that’s something I don’t want you to change. I just want to be equally important.”

“You always have been, y/n.”, Mason smiled sadly. “But I promise this time I’ll make you feel like it too. You deserve so much more than what you got from me, and I swear to god I’ll make it right.”

Nodding slowly, you let go of a deep breath before leaning your forehead against his chest. “You’re an idiot.”, you huffed.

“I know.”, Mason confirmed. Still a bit unsure how open you’d be for affection from him, he carefully pressed his lips to the top of your head. “But I’m an idiot who missed you a lot.”

Something inside of you cracked open slightly at his words and whilst part of you wanted to keep your distance, you wrapped your arms around his middle anyway and when he hugged you back, tiny pieces of hope fell back into place.

For a while you simply stood there, wrapped up in one another and holding on to the hope that things would get better. That not all was lost.

“I know we have to talk some more, but I really mean it when I say I’m sorry and that you’re the only one I’ll ever want. I don’t want to lose you again, y/n.”

Pulling back a little, you tipped your head back and locked your eyes on his.

“I know.”, you smiled softly. “I don’t want to lose you either, Mase.”

A warm smile spread over his face and with some newfound confidence, Mason brought one hand up to cradle your jaw. His thumb stroked right beneath your eye, making your tummy flutter.

You wanted to keep your distance, to keep your heart safe for a little while longer, but the way he was looking at you with so much love and warmth in his eyes had your walls crumbling rather easily.

“I missed you so much.”

Mason leaned in slowly, testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull back, but instead tipped your head back a little more, he closed the distance and pressed his lips against yours softly; carefully, but oh so familiar and you couldn’t help but melt into him.

Nothing was perfect and it wouldn’t be for a while, but knowing you wouldn’t have to go back to torturing yourself by watching his life in pictures and wondering how you’d ended like this was enough for now.

“I missed you, too.”, you whispered against his lips before reaching up, burying your fingers in his hair and pulling him back in for another kiss.

And another right after as you never wanted to think about having a last kiss ever again.

----------

I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this. You'd make my day if you left a little feedback 🩷

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason monut x reader #mason mount fanfic #football imagine #manchester united #football fanfic #manchester united imagine #mason mount angst #mason mount fluff #angst #fluff #fanfiction

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anundyingfidelity · 9 months ago

Text

HAPPY MISTAKE — Logan Howlett

Summary: Not ever, through all the years of your life, you found someone like Logan. Since he arrived at the school, something brought you together like a magnet. Sadly, not everything came out as you wished it would be. Time is not gentle with mutants, and you try so hard to show him your unconditional love before everything is over, but can you finally accept your feelings for each other? Or yours and Logan's tumultuous relationship through the years.

(PART ONE → PART TWO) | GEN MASTERLIST!

Pairing: Logan x mutant!female!reader.

Word count: 9.6k.

Warnings: slow burn, breaking up(?)/making up, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut and unprotected everything, language, character death, time travel, Logan hurting reader unintentionally, wounds and blood. Logan being a whore for both Jean Grey and the reader. Reader has slow aging as Logan and looks around mid 30s in my head. Anthropology teacher!reader. Reader can manipulate light (just like Starlight from The Boys). This takes place between different movies from the franchise, from X-Men 1 to DoFP, so spoilers of the movies ahead.

Notes: Long time no write. Life is horrible but somehow I managed to get this in like two months. I love Logan so fucking much now you don't have an idea. This was also written with Happy Mistake by Lady Gaga in mind. If you'd like to be tagged in the second part let me know or let me know your thoughts on this, it's very much appreciated! I suffered a lot writing it .

𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.

—

2000

“Need any help?”

Logan stopped on his tracks from wandering around the cozy, yet strange place he woke up in. Turning on his feet, he saw your figure standing in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing, but you approached him as you had known him for a very long time.

“I assume you’re the new guy-”

“Where is she?” Logan abruptly interrupted once you stood inches away from him.

“Rogue? She’s fine. And you need to take a little rest.”

“I don’t need medical attention,” he said, looking around to search for a nearby exit. Before he walked away you took his arm in a soft grip.

He was, as much as you could tell, surprised by your boldness. You gave him no time to process his next movements once you talked again, your voice firm and welcoming in a way he had never felt before.

“Please, you need to meet Professor Xavier,” you said. “At least before you go. It’s totally fine if you wanna leave, I don’t recommend it though, but we can offer you a safe place here. We are just like you.”

Logan’s hardened expression relaxed for a moment, sensing no threat coming from you. All he saw in your eyes wasn’t pity, nor anger at him being kind of an asshole at first. It was just authority, the good kind where he also had something to say and decide about.

“Whatcha say, Logan?”

He was so immersed in his thoughts before you called his name, thinking it sounded beautiful falling off your lips. You gave him a half smile as he took in each detail of your face, as if he was memorizing every part of it.

It was the first time someone had been nice to him and it felt strangely good.

For some reason, it felt very good coming from you.

—

Logan just found out from the Professor’s mouth the mansion was a school for mutants. Gifted people, he called them. After learning another powerful mutant was behind him and Rogue, he had no other choice but accept the shelter. He didn’t like the other guys better, playing the teacher with a bunch of teenagers with special or cursed abilities. But besides Storm and Jean, you were the person who had welcomed him the most, even showing him the place and the room he would stay in.

One late night, you sat at the dining table together. Logan was silently drinking a beer outside school hours so the kids wouldn’t see him, and you, reading a bunch of papers from your students that you were missing. He realized how hard you worked, how you would praise your students, how you talked to them outside classes, being the one to actually convince Rogue to enroll in the school. Immediately, he knew you were really something, having much more in common than he thought. And you, living for so long, being both a mutant and a lady for sure had a hard life through time.

“What you teach again?” he suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence you shared.

“Anthropology,” you answered, giving him a short glance. “I took this at college a long time ago, and I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or two,” you explained, putting away a paper after putting an A+ on it proudly. “It’s important to understand ourselves, humankind and mutants… It’s a diverse world and there are lots of cultures, languages and societies we don’t get to know, but it’s beautiful. I think I like to celebrate what makes us unique. I've had the chance to study some of them around the world since I had the time, y’know, and it’s truly amazing. It’s a shame we have to fight between us to make us heard when we could just be kind and empathetic to each other… Sorry, you didn’t ask but, y’know, anyway.”

You shook your head with a curve on your lips, going back to the next paper. Logan had taken the sparks in your eyes as you talked. He half smiled to himself once you buried yourself in your papers again, thinking you sounded just like Professor Xavier. No wonder why he took you in. Probably, if things were different for him, he would’ve found something that could light his face with so much passion just like you did.

“Been alive for almost two hundred years,” Logan said and you looked up to him. “We might have things about the past to share,” he drank from his beer. It was your turn to smile back at him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve lived both horrible but nice things. Couldn’t read or do math without being called a witch,” you chuckled to yourself, but hiding on the inside the awful experiences you had to endure. “Someday, we could go out and grab a coffee or something,” you said with a playful smile.

A light chuckle left your lips, but you and him knew it wasn’t just a joke.

He joined you with a warm smile that lit up his face before disappearing from his lips. “Of course. Count me in.”

—

The sun was shining bright and the weather was great that morning. Some of the students were in the yard playing, having some quality time, and others simply just left to go to the town. It was a good weekend before the next semester started, and it was better now knowing Magneto had been taken to prison after his failed attempt to use Rogue for his plans.

Sipping on your coffee, you saw the students outside. Laughing, running, having a good breakfast picnic. It felt heartwarming just taking this sight, wishing it would always be like this. Your mindful peace was interrupted when Logan entered the kitchen to have a coffee on his own. Visibly, you tensed just a little when he approached you and sat right in front of you at the dining table. The caffeine was not helping at all, you thought.

“Morning,” he greeted you, noticing something was off on you, but hoping it would pass. Maybe you already knew.

“Morning…” your voice came out as a whisper. “How you feeling?”

“Better. What about you?”

You gave a small nod. “Good, thanks for asking.”

A silence fell upon you. Not like the ones you used to share in lonely nights where you prepared your classes and Logan just sat down calmly because he couldn’t sleep. This time it was different. Words won’t come out of your mouth to ask what was really bothering you. You had grown up to like Logan and enjoy his company, but he had a lot of walls upon him, protecting himself of the world and people around him.

However, you understood why he did it. You both have been alive longer than anyone else. You saw people you love dearly dead, being killed because of your flaws. And you really connected to his idea of protecting people by leaving their side. It was better being away. That was until Professor Xavier recruited you. Here, you had a purpose and you helped young people to become the best versions of themselves. You wished Logan could do the same, stay and see he was more of what he thought of himself, but it wouldn’t happen. Right? He had things to sort out on his own.

“Are you leaving soon?”

When you asked the question, Logan knew you had heard something from the Professor. He gave you a nod.

“I need to reconnect with who I was,” he simply answered.

“Right… Wish you all the best there.”

Logan had grown to like you over the past few weeks you shared, exchanging experiences and lessons of life you had taken through the years. For a moment, he looked right into your eyes and smiled. He weirdly smiled, and you could swear he’d miss you too once he is away.

But that warm feeling soon faded away once Jean walked into the kitchen, saying good morning and beaming to the both of you. Logan followed her with his gaze, straightening himself on his seat as she served her own breakfast and an extra plate that you already knew was for Scott. She also began putting fruits and snacks inside a picnic basket while looking all happy and settled, and you knew why Logan had fallen in love with her. It was all over his face.

And you wondered how could he act and talk to you so kindly and sweet, and then look at Jean like that. It was a pain in your heart you tried to dissipate. Everyone knew Jean and Scott were a couple, and the fact that Logan had a not so secret crush on her really played on you. It made you feel like a fool and you had too many heartbreaks and hurted people, putting them in danger due to your mutation, to take initiative and start a relationship - or anything of the sort - again.

Scott made his way inside the kitchen, saying hi to both of you - mostly you. And took the tray with their plates as Jean grabbed the basket, but she let Scott leave the kitchen before.

“Have a good trip, Logan,” she said kindly. “I hope to see you around here soon.”

“Thank you, Jean.”

She smiled one last time before leaving you all alone, Logan following her with his eyes. Just for a second, you wished he could see you like that underneath his facade.

—

You had packed your stuff later that day, deciding a little air and a change for one night would do no wrong. Just as you were walking to the main door, Rogue was saying her goodbyes to Logan after giving him a small hug without really touching him. It was a cute sight how Rogue was able to step into his cold heart. She said goodbye to you as well before leaving the entrance.

“You’re going away too?” Logan asked, rather surprised as you both walked through the door, the sun hitting your skin as soon as you were out of the mansion. He knew your life was at the school.

“Just for the weekend,” you shrug it off.

Logan gave you a nod with a warm smile. “Then have a good trip and enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks. I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.”

“I hope so too,” Logan answered and before he went to take Scott’s bike, he looked at you hesitantly for a couple of seconds. “We should go out and grab some coffee once I’m back.”

Your lips formed a wide smile. “That sounds really nice.”

For a moment, where time felt like hours and not seconds, you stood right out the door, looking at each other. You wanted him to go first, but he was waiting for you to say something. Probably to ride the bike with him, he could leave you somewhere near your destination and feel you close - just be around you for at least five more minutes. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, you studied his face, looking at his deep eyes, and then his lips - those lips you wanted to kiss so bad before, but never had the courage to do so. You didn’t think further, and if something had taken possession over you, you leaned towards him leaving a short, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Take care,” you mumbled once you pulled away.

Not waiting for his answer, you turned back, pulling your bag to your side stronger than ever and walked the path to the front gates, feeling his gaze all over you until you left the mansion.

He felt such an idiot for not kissing you properly.

—

2003

‘I know what I want, but what do you want?’

Mystique’s words echoed through his head. Logan left the tent so long ago he didn’t know what time it was anymore and the situation kept repeating again and again in his mind. The woman had shifted between Jean, Ororo, and you. The one that icked him the most being Rogue once Mystique had taken her figure in. Storm was a good colleague, Jean was a forbidden love, Rogue was like his little sister, someone he would protect as long as he could, and you… you were a different case. When Mystique was about to kiss him wearing your figure, he finally realized he started feeling things he had prohibited himself for a very long time, and he thought he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Once or twice you shared experiences about love and partners, but he could tell it hurted you the same way as him. He couldn’t burden breaking your heart, or worse, getting you hurt because of what he was. Logan knew you had the same bad luck in the past, but it didn’t stop any of you to pull towards each other like a magnet.

‘Living for so long does things to you, Logan. I feel we become more aware of what we are.’

Those words you said to him one time remained in his head like a warning, and he took it personally.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against a hard tree trunk some feet away from the tents where the rest of the X-Men rested. He tried to find some peace alone for a few moments when the sounds of steps approaching alerted his senses. Claws out and ready to attack, he spun around the trunk only to stop in a second.

There you were, a bright light emanating from your hand to illuminate your path in the darkness of the woods.

“Logan?”

Quickly, he withdrew his claws and his body relaxed visibly. “Sorry,” he apologized, leaning against the tree one more time.

“Are you okay?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. The exhausted sigh he let out told you everything you needed. You let the soft glow of light floating between you and him, to illuminate both of you under the branches. “You wanna talk?”

He slowly shook his head, mumbling ‘no’. He became startled in the light floating like a firefly, letting his own issues wash away with your sole company. Ironically, everything that was troubling him was you. Softly, you caressed his arm, taking him out of his own thoughts. Your touch didn’t help his poor mind either.

Looking worried about the next mission in Lake Alkali, you feared for him and your team. And your lack of sleep was showing it. But just like Logan, the growing feelings were troubling your head. You had seen him talking with Jean earlier when you landed in the forest - talking too close to your liking once he pulled her for a kiss. But what could you do? Logan was still after Jean even when she had already declined him countless of times, and it didn’t really hurt you. It just felt strange inside. Why would he do that while still being nice to you, quitting being a dick when he wanted because he knew you’d snap back at him. And to be honest, Logan looked as if he liked that about you. But he won’t admit it out loud, and of course, you wouldn’t ask. Men were so damn complicated.

“Well, I only expect things to not get worse…” you finally said in a soft whisper since he wasn’t talking and you stopped your head going further on the matter. And you knew he wouldn’t talk soon either. “And you’re brave for seeking your past.”

Logan locked his eyes with your own, under the soft light. Your tired gaze, your figure, your aura pulling him like he found a treasure in an abandoned cave… He felt so bad for falling for someone like you, who was nothing compared to the crap he was. And then, for the first time in years, he decided to follow his instinct with you.

He leaned towards your figure, his rough hand cupping your cheek gently before pulling you in for a kiss. With a soft sigh you corresponded, your arms around his neck as it turned deeper and harsher. Logan lifted you easily from the ground, your legs tangling around his waist until you felt your back against a rough surface, trapped between the trunk and his body. Soft moans and grunts mingled, your chest pressing against his own, his hips grinding against your crotch. It was obvious you wanted this. Logan desired you so painfully after that day you kissed him goodbye at the mansion, he needed your body and soul. But you had to have answers before giving into the heat of the moment.

Pulling away, you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his own as you tried to catch your breath. Logan tried to taste you once again, but you placed two of your fingers on his swollen lips.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

He remained silent, brows furrowed and eyes blown in lust. You didn’t make any effort to pull him away. He still had you between his legs, asking a simple question he had no response for.

“We’re adults here, Logan. Just wanna know why before we go further.”

Logan started to remember. He vividly heard Jean and Mystique voicing out and asking the right question.

‘Girls flirt with the bad guy. They take the good guy home.’

‘What do you want?’

“Do you really want me?” he asked in return.

You lifted an eyebrow at his sudden question. “And do you?”

He leaned again for a kiss on your lips, and thankfully for him, you didn’t stop it. But he quickly pulled away and inhaled your sweet scent from the skin on your neck, leaving a path of soft pecks, until he nipped the shell of your ear softly. You shivered under his touch.

“I’d love to have you,” he whispered, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Come to my tent,” you mumbled. “Sleep with me. But like, seriously, sleep with me ‘cause I’m tired,” you chuckled, hoping to not kill the mood.

Logan smiled for a bit and nodded, pecking your lips one more time before helping you get on your feet on the muddy ground, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

“As long as I have you by my side it’s alright with me.”

—

Jean’s death was hard to swallow.

For weeks, students and teachers mourned her, and you felt sorry for Scott for losing his soulmate. Logan was not in the best shape either. He didn’t attend her funeral, he never had the guts to stand by her grave either, until now. You stopped right behind him and noticed him sighing, under the afternoon sunset. He was tense because of everything, but when you took his hand out of the pocket of his jacket, he held onto you. Your fingers intertwined together, feeling his life depending solely on you, like a rock he needed to support his whole weight.

The day was about to end, the sun slowly hiding, giving a beautiful painting of orange and purple in the sky. You thought it would soon become an intense thunderstorm due to Ororo’s mourn - something you had gotten used to the last few days.

“She saved us,” Logan barely mumbled, looking intensely at the grave.

You nodded, even if he could not see you. “Can’t blame her, I’d have done the same.”

Those words cause him to look back at you, wishing it’d be a lie. But inside, Logan knew you really had the guts to sacrifice yourself for others. It was something he remembered both of you talking about some time ago. And you would give everything in your hands to save the ones you love.

Quietly, Logan gave a last glance at Jean’s grave, and guided you inside the mansion. Classes barely started again due to the circumstances and a few kids could be seen around the halls. You accompanied him to the doors of his room, noticing you had been holding hands the whole time. Probably no one really cared, they were too busy trying to go through the grief of losing a loved one. Slowly, you broke the gesture, taking your hand away and Logan immediately missed the heat and comfort of your hand.

“Do you need anything?” you asked in a low voice.

Looking at you, Logan reminisced how you kissed in the woods, the need and lust for each other that couldn’t be. He did sleep in your tent that night, in the comfort of your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin. It was, probably, the first time he had a good, peaceful night of sleep in years. No one had brought that up, but he knew something was there. And he needed to act on it before it was too late.

So he brought up his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before planting a kiss on your lips, not caring he was standing in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see what was going on. You leaned against his touch, deepening the kiss until you couldn’t catch a breath. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead into yours, taking in the beauty of your bright eyes and swollen lips. Everything wandering his mind, making a path right into his cold heart was right in front of him.

“You.”

—

Knocking Professor Xavier's door, you walked inside as soon as his voice announced to come in. You caught your breath seeing Logan by his desk. He just gave you a quick, accomplice glimpse and left the room, closing the door behind. The exchange of glances wasn’t unnoticed by Charles.

“Here’s the report on my subject for this last semester, Professor,” you announced, leaving the folder on the wooden desk.

“Thank you. How’s Logan doing?” he asked all of a sudden, checking the door the man had crossed just seconds ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you believe he is comfortable helping the kids?” the old man asked again. He was seeing right through you, and you kind of hated every time he used to do that to you. Nothing could be hidden from Xavier; definitely you couldn’t hide a single thing for the man who took you in decades ago.

“Why would I know that?”

He shrugged it off. “Well, you seem very close lately.”

Close was not the best word to describe your relationship with Logan. Yet, you were sleeping on his bed just the night before. The trace of his kisses, the burn of his beard on your skin, his teeth biting softly your breasts, his rough hands all over your hips… Every touch he left on your body you could still feel it, and you wanted to think he was not just using you. During the past weeks, you were together. Not quite a relationship-thing was established properly, but it was the closest thing any of you could have as for now.

It was a mixture of grief, pain, and hope that had you both still standing. In the end, you understood what he felt. Being alone and alive for so long and then finding a place where people accepted you for who you were was a whole change, even if some years passed by. Though, the time Logan had been spending at the school was nothing but a blink of an eye compared to his past.

“What happened to our team is still affecting us,” you finally said. “I believe we are good friends, yes, we’ve been supporting each other. And he doesn’t know how to deal with the students yet most of the time, but I try to walk him through it.”

Xavier hummed, smiling at the corner of his lips as he eyed the folder you handed him. “I bet you both do.Thanks for bringing your report on time, as always, and I apologize if I am being intrusive. Just please be careful with the noises both of you make at night, we have kids around here.”

Shit.

You swallowed your pride right there and simply gave a nod, feeling the heat burning up your face.

“Will do, Professor.”

—

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you held for dear life on his broad shoulders, hips snapping against your own. His pace was reckless, keeping you on the edge of sin. Grunts mixed with sweet moans, skin hitting skin again and again every time you felt his cock inside you. If possible, your nails could have already left visible scars and marks on his back, scratching and bleeding off his skin as he fucked you senseless.

Logan sucked on the bare skin on your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling your walls clenching around his girth, his hands roughly grabbing the sides of your hips as you moaned his name, over and over, under the moonlight. He looked at you intensely with loving eyes when you came underneath him, eyes flashing that familiar bright light every time a powerful orgasm hit your body. The vulnerable sight of your figure shaking, eyes closing slowly and biting your lip to keep the pretty noises low, made him reach the sweetest high.

With a grunt, he leaned to attack your lips in a heated, wet kiss to moan against your mouth. Logan pulled back to press butterfly kisses on your jaw, until he reached your breasts, feeling himself soften inside your wet heat. His hips were still thrusting just enough to fill you up at a gentle rhythm. Marking you his and only his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your chest. “Remind me why we’re here again.”

You chuckled softly, fingers tangling on his disheveled hair. You just had prepared a small date night out at the shores of a beautiful lake in the woods. No one could bother you if you were alone, and since your relationship was not so secret anymore, you needed him in a place that wasn’t the school. So here you were, laying on your back, fully naked on the picnic blanket, with the Wolverine between your legs, enjoying the calmness of the water, the green grass, the crickets singing around, and the cold of the night.

“Privacy perhaps?” you whispered as his eyes locked on yours.

Softly you touched his cheek with the palm of your hand and he rolled both of you over, until you laid on top of him, legs straddling his waist and your arms on his shoulders to sit on his lap. Silence took over, his hands soothing your hips and the marks he left on your body from the intense love-making.

“I’m so happy we took a couple of days off…”

You waited for Logan to say something. Anything. You wanted to continue, to tell him how you really felt. Instead, you decided it was better leaving it like this. Logan gave you a nod, pulling you for a short kiss.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He wanted to say it out loud, but was too scared to do so.

—

2006

After a couple of long years, the school and the team had to learn how to go through the grief and pain Jean left. Logan had a hard time processing it, just like all your teammates, specially Scott, and of course the students. It didn’t stop you from moving on as time went by though, always remembering her for the great person and mind she was. Going forward and keeping fighting is what she would’ve wanted for everyone, even now that a certain cure for mutants was announced to the public.

You tried to continue your life as a professor at the school, training students, leading young people, and you invited and encouraged Logan to do so countless times. Deep inside, you wished it was you the reason why Logan decided to stay and train young mutants - for you to be the answer to his loneliness. That he knew, for once and all, that he was not alone. You got each other, and you could do something about it. Words unspoken said more than anything, at least you thought so.

It was one of those rare nights where you got some time for yourselves, walking around the city after having a nice and calm dinner. Your shoulders brushed against each other while you walked downtown, your hands hiding inside the pockets of your jacket, protecting them from the cold.

There was a lot on your mind lately, thinking about what you two really were. If there was a stronger feeling in between, or if it was solely because he enjoyed your company and that was it. Both had lived enough to know there was a feeling in the middle. It wasn’t just friends with benefits, or co-workers who sleep together three times a week. Something was blooming deep inside you, but you tried to not give it a lot of attention all those years. Still, it felt like it had to be addressed sooner or later, and this could be the time. In the end, you understood each other perfectly. How painful it was, how living longer than anyone was, how you had to leave everything and everyone behind because you were dangerous…

“Have you ever wondered how’d it feel to have a normal life?” your question came out all of the sudden.

“How come?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t know if his gaze was judging you but you continued anyway.

“Like living a normal amount of years… Not having these things, genes that make us different. Or special…”

Logan suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed your arm softly so you could lock eyes together as he asked. “You’re not thinking of getting that damn cure, aren’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why’d you think that?”

“Because I never had anyone in my life, Logan,” you spat, pulling your arm away from his grip. “I’ve been alive for so long but I can’t promise myself a future. A real one. Not anything, it doesn’t matter if I live forever. Every person I loved before perished.”

Those words shook him out of the rough façade showing on his face. Your gaze told a hundred different stories when he studied your face every time. It was like mirroring himself at some point. You were the first person he ever got to know that has lived as long as he has, and maybe it was the sentimentalism, but he tried to push away those wishes of settling down. Of trying to be normal. Because he was not, and maybe, just maybe, you just didn’t accept it like he did. Probably, he was just giving up. But you weren’t, even after hundreds of years of disgrace continuously happening.

“I thought you’d get this, Logan.”

You mumbled, taking him out of his trance.

“Well, I do, in a way,” he said, but sounded more like an excuse for himself.

“Then why don’t you say it?”

“Wha-”

“Just say it,” you repeated and pointed between you and him. “What is this for you? What are we?”

Logan grabbed on your shoulders gently and leaned towards you, stealing a kiss on the sidewalk, a kiss you obliged with a bittersweet feeling for some reason, but then he whispered. “Darling, you’re everything to me now.”

Yet, you smiled and kissed him back, feeling his lips curve against your own. Well, that wasn’t so hard was it?

—

Needless to say, after the last date, your relationship with Logan had evolved to something more domestic, considering you lived together in your workplace. Affection, holding hands, quick kisses were shared now a little more freely, and you had received a couple of jokes and teases from some students and Storm. But it was fine as long as you had cleared your path with Logan, even if he didn’t act like a partner sometimes.

The certain calmness you felt one day disappeared when Logan and Ororo went to look for Scott, who often had these sad thoughts, and since Jean was his partner, it was thoroughly complicated for him to say the least. When Logan and Ororo came back to the mansion, it was not what you expected to see. Jean was alive and Scott was gone.

It hurted you, knowing first hand that their love wouldn’t be anymore. You met both of them when they were so young, becoming something like their mentor when they used to learn how to control their powers and how to fit in this world that loathed mutants to death. Now, the school was something else. It was a big, special place that was not the same without the brains of Jean, or the enthusiasm and leadership of Scott. Things were different, they had to change because the circumstances told so, and everyone had a difficult time adapting to it. One thing after another left you tired, with no option to run away, even if you wanted to. The complicated circumstances and the relationship you shared with Logan were no help either.

While on your way to check on Jean, who was still under observation after a couple of days, you stopped in your tracks when the heavy door of the med bay slid. Logan, looking all out of his daily self and mad, found you at the entrance, and you felt something different emanating from him.

For what you could see behind him, Jean was still asleep, and the Professor called Logan to come back with a serious voice, but he ignored the older man, instead approaching you.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Logan grasped your arm, his tone lower and deeper than usual.

You quickly pulled off his grip and hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“Jean.”

You felt silent. Of course she was anything he could think of since they found her.

“You knew he was controlling her,” Logan went on and your heart skipped a beat.

The look in your eyes told everything but lies. Logan scoffed and walked away, leaving you standing alone under Professor Xavier’s gaze.

“I’ll talk to him,” you mumbled at your mentor before following Logan, trying to keep his pace until he reached his room.

The whole way you tried to keep it professional, greeting students as normally you would, but when you crossed his door it was impossible to continue with the facade.

“Logan-”

“He’s insane,” he snapped, putting his jacket on and taking his bag out.

“Everything that was done was meant to protect her,” you responded calmly as he placed a handful of clothes inside the bag.

“No, you did it because you are disgusting. I bet this is what should’ve been for me if I refused to cooperate with your circus or something.”

“You don’t know what she is capable of-”

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it anymore. This is so fucked up, even for you,” he continued, bag on his hand taking long strides until you were almost touching noses.

You scoffed, trying to laugh at the irony. “What does that even mean? Do you know how horrible it is to be controlled by the Phoenix inside her?.”

Logan rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another poor excuse. You continued anyway, looking straight in his eyes before he could leave you hanging with your own words. Exactly like he used to do every damn time when you had an argument. Today, he wouldn’t run away that fast.

“She could kill you in a second and won’t hesitate. For her, we’re nothing. We’re not rivals, we can’t do shit. The only thing we could do was keep her alter ego somewhere hiding inside her mind, or else we wouldn’t be here arguing about something you never witnessed. Because I did and you don’t wanna see that, trust me,” you spat at him. He breathed rage at your words and you knew that it was getting on his nerves seeing the way his hands turned to fists. “And you think this version of her cares for you? Or that she loves you? Jean is gone now, Logan, fucking get over it.”

With last harsh words, you turned around and left the room, closing the door with a thud.

Logan breathed out. He wanted to scream, hit something, run away… Anything to let it out. He was a reckless mess but how could he react and accept Charles was playing with Jean’s mind? And you fucking knew all this time and didn’t say anything? Were his feelings dirty on him right now? Probably. Shit, he took years to finally tell you the truth about his love and affection towards you. He spent months trying to find the right words just to say ‘I love you’, and still, it seemed it wasn’t enough. The forbidden love he felt for Jean never disappeared, and he felt guilty for it.

—

You walked down to the med bay after calming down for a bit. You only needed to check on Jean for a moment and see how she was doing. Years prior, you had witnessed what the Phoenix was capable of, so you didn’t really question Charles’ methods when it came to hide this dangerous side of her inside her mind. You also thought your words might have been a little harsh on Logan, but it was the truth. He didn’t know who the Phoenix was and, if his feelings for Jean resurfaced after believing her being dead, then it wasn’t on you. As much as you loved him, as much as you tried and somehow managed to move on together, he was so easily dragged to her.

The anger you felt before took over you once again, as you found the metal doors of the lab in debris. Quickly, you made your way inside the room and found Jean wasn’t there and that Logan was lying unconscious on the floor. You knelt down by his side, calling him over and over and touching his face and shaking his shoulders until he finally opened his eyes slowly, coming back to reality.

“Logan, what happened?”

“She… she killed Scott. The Phoenix,” he whispered. You could tell he was a little weak and out of breath.

“You’re lucky she just ran away,” you pointed out, helping him to sit down. His eyes were lost in the mess in the room. Tools were destroyed, test tubes broken, crystal was everywhere, and Jean left the reminder of kissing him, yet again, before she escaped. God, he felt so idiotic.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking at you. “Sorry for being a jerk. It’s my fault.”

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her.”

“Come here, we need to alert Charles,” you said, helping him to stand up.

Inside, you knew he wouldn’t really need your help. He was strong and indestructible like the metal on his skull, but he seemed really taken back, and you decided to stay by his side, holding his hand strongly as a way to say sorry as well. It was kind of difficult to see Logan in that state of mind, confused and lost, and you wondered what had happened back there in the lab as you left him in his bedroom, ordering him to rest for a while.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him with loving eyes.

Logan nodded, following your figure stepping out the room and disappearing in the hallway.

He let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. His mind was having a hard time and his heart felt like breaking, going in two opposite directions, and he hated himself for that. His fate was always the same: losing people he loved and cared for dearly. So seeing Jean back again was as if god or anything up there remembered he existed and brought her back just for him. Or maybe he was just being selfish because he already had you.

You were everything for him. A couple of years might be just a short glimpse for both of you, but he was able to feel peace and calm next to you, and he was sure you did as well. Because some nights, that was all you could talk about. Logan didn’t mind hearing you for hours, it reminded him he was alive. With you, but his stupid instinct had to act.

It was his fault Jean had left. The kiss, the whole act of embracing each other’s bodies for at least two minutes, and then her breakdown, begging for him to kill her… All of that was enough to bring out the beast inside her. And he felt such a jerk now for following his desires. He already had you. Wasn’t that enough?

His thoughts were interrupted once you arrived again, finding him sitting at the end of the bed exactly as you had left him there. Sensing something different on him, you sat down by his side and rubbed his hand gently.

“We might know where she’s going,” you whispered.

“I’ll go,” Logan said before you could finish.

“I’m not sure if I should ask, but are you okay? You could do some rest,” you suggested, since seeing the redhead was clearly getting some kind of reaction from him.

“No, I need to go,” he said. But Logan could read your face perfectly, and he knew you didn’t really like the idea of him leaving the mansion. You turned your eyes, scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.

You had the need to ask what exactly had happened back there with Jean, but you didn’t want to start a fight either. Feeling Logan’s hand on your shoulder, he leaned to kiss your forehead goodbye. Maybe you were the one who should stay, check the kids, the school…

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, voice low and deep, as if trying to convince you, but himself as well. You nodded with your arms around his neck, giving him a hug that felt like some sort of apology you weren’t able to say out loud. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

And how you’d wish things would be fine.

—

The school has been very quiet lately. Too silent even for his taste. At nights like these, he could still feel the vigor and presence of the students running around, grabbing something to eat, planning to go out for a while... Instead, Logan found himself in a place that was mourning. Grieving the loss of Jean, Scott and Charles.

The feelings inside were complicated. He didn’t really feel the same, and the disgrace and remorse of his actions were growing on him. They were still haunting him; every day, every single night. You knew it too. It was impossible to ignore the nightmares each time he woke up from seeing Jean’s lifeless body fall against his own after he gave what she wished for the most: death.

And then, there was you. He noticed how difficult it was getting for you to sleep. You tried to hide your sorrow into your work, studying even more, keeping yourself busy with the school and not thinking about anything else. Since Charles was gone, Ororo took his place and you were her second hand. But you pushed yourself too hard.

Tonight he found your bedroom empty. He didn’t find you on his either, so he went to the place he knew you would be: your classroom. The door was half opened, the dim light of the lamp on your desk barely illuminated the papers on the surface. He found you deeply concentrated reading on something, hands on the sides of your head hiding your face.

“Hey,” he softly mumbled, stepping inside the empty classroom.

You quickly straightened yourself on the chair, wiping your cheeks and tried to look decent for a moment.

“Hey,” you replied back, low voice.

“Come to bed,” he said, coming to stand before you, his hand on your shoulder comforting and soothing you, making its way to the side of your neck. His big palm on your cheek, caressing the skin stained with your tears as if it was the most delicate thing. He took a look at the mess of papers and old books you loved too much to get rid of, scattered on the wooden surface.

“No, I- I can’t. Need to finish these by tomorrow…”

Logan gave you a nod and a grimace before taking your hand, motioning to come closer. You stood up, knowing he was trying to get you out of the work that was consuming you.

He observed every feature on your face, the sadness in your stare couldn’t be hidden. He just knew you too well, just like the palm of his hand, and he wanted to make you forget. At least for a little. You had taken care of him, helped him with your presence and your unique aura, bringing him comfort and peace to his broken mind. He wanted you to be fine. To feel loved.

Logan leaned just exactly to brush his lips with your own, teasing a kiss that he longed too much, his hands around your waist pulling you towards him.

“Can you just let me take care of you?”

Swallowing hard the knot on your throat, you curled your lips as much as the grief let you. “Yes,” you nodded.

With this, Logan leaned until your lips connected. Your arms around his neck pulled him as closer as you could get, feeling his chest against your own, his strong hands around your waist, softly touching you above your clothes.

Logan slowly walked you until your back hit the desk, hands roaming on your ass down to your legs, placing you to sit down over the loose pages. It might ruin the work a little, but none of you cared. Everything in your head was him, between your legs, running his wet mouth down your jaw, his stubble burning your skin as you gasped gently. Lying on your back on the desk, he began descending down your breasts, unbuttoning your blouse until he exposed you to the cold of the room.

He stopped right on your trousers, and gave you a quick glance. You were so eager, wet already. He could sense it. Your eyes were glowing and you were already trying to catch your breath by just his kisses and touch.

“You locked the door?” you whispered.

“Damn right I did,” he voiced, hoarse and low voice from just thinking of railing you right there and then.

“Then don’t stop.”

At your command, he unzipped your trousers, letting them fall down along with your heels on the floor. He then leaned to take your lips in a sloppy kiss, more urgent this time of feeling you close. You moaned, nails scratching his skin. His calloused hands explored your bare legs and things, creating friction with his hips with slow, controlled thrusts against your crotch. Logan left a trail of kisses down to your breasts, licking and tasting the saltiness of your body.

You urged him to go down where you ached the most, hand tangling on his hair. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading to him until his nose was almost buried on your panties, smelling and taking the sweetness of your scent, licking softly with his wet tongue over the fabric. A trail of moans and curses left your lips. He pulled your panties aside before diving in your pussy, licking your folds and teasing your hole with two of his fingers.

“Logan…”

His name repeatedly left your mouth like a plea, his fingers now inside you, stretching your walls for him. The noises grew obscene and nasty as he ate you out like a sweet craving he had been denying himself the pleasure for so long.

He was growing hard just by hearing your whimpers, and he needed you. You always were a fucking longing for him. Your words, your intelligence, your beauty… Everything he needed, you had it. And still, he didn’t have any idea of how such a rational, smart woman like you learned to love him so deeply.

You tugged on his hair, hips thrusting up to meet his growling mouth. You were so close, felt almost there where you wanted, but he pulled away before you finished.

Logan unzipped his jeans leaning back, admiring your blissed out eyes and glistened figure.

“Come here,” you begged in a whisper, tangling your legs around his waist.

He let out a low, dirty chuckle, feeling your hands on his boxers, freeing his erection.

“So fucking eager,” Logan breathed kissing your lips, hands supporting his weight at the sides of your head on the desk.

You tasted yourself within the kiss and you moaned at his words, your hand pumped him just enough to feel his pre cum leaking already, lining his dick with your cunt. Inch by inch, he entered slowly so you could get used to his size. Logan pecked your lips gently, kissing your cheeks and the side of your neck to get into your sensitive skin. You tugged on his white shirt so he could remove it and he ripped your bra apart right after. He loved to feel your chest pressed against his own. You gasped but paid no mind, instead urging him to move inside you.

“Shit, Logan please-”

A particular harsh trust caught your breath on your throat. You held onto dear life with your hands on his shoulders. He pounded into you rock hard and deep. So damn deep the desk was shrieking under, papers fell off and the lamp moved at the same rhythm but you hoped it won’t break.

Logan growled, inhaling your scent and tasting the sweat forming on your collarbone, your breasts bouncing against his chest. He felt your nails trailing down his back, and oh, how he wished he could get damn scars on just by fucking you like this. But the view of you, squirming under him, eyes closed, being a whimpering mess… All because of him. He was so insanely in love with your fucked out expression every time.

Your walls clenched, close to the sweet end. Logan felt himself twitching inside your warm pussy and his thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy. He filled you up, reaching his own climax first, hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Your pussy milked him all the way as he kept spliting you open until you let yourself go, legs trembling around his waist.

For a moment, you stayed like this, with him kissing your shoulder and caressing your thigh, taking in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

“Thank you…”

Your whisper forced him to look up at you. There it was, that loving, sweet gaze you had reserved just for him.

He nodded, palm on your jaw holding you gently. “Of course…”

For some reason, he wanted to voice out for once those stupid three words.

I love you.

Or at least hoped you would do it first.

—

The night was cold under the moonlight, almost freezing. He wondered how he got trapped there, between the messy, withered shrubbery, fog, and the trees of a forest he never recalled knowing. He was alert, senses to the limit in case something might attack him. He felt as if he was being watched, but there were no eyes he could find around. He couldn’t see much like that.

But then a voice started to call his name from afar, claws coming out immediately as he sharpened his senses to find the owner. One, two, three times he heard, trying to find the person who was calling but there was only darkness. His heart skipped a beat when someone spoke behind him.

“Logan…”

He turned on his feet and he felt like dying again. “Jean?”

He withdrew his claws back immediately. The redhead smiled, coming closer until she touched his cheek with a soft hand before pulling away. “How are you, Logan?”

“What-”

“Are you happy now?” she asked, beaming brightly as if they were in a casual conversation instead of the darkness of the woods.

His brows furrowed. She couldn’t be real. She wasn’t there with him. Jean was gone, he had killed her because it was what she wanted. It was her way out to get what she needed; it was the key to her freedom…

“What do you mean?”

“With her… Be careful. You could kill her. Just like me,” Jean whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Logan stepped back, trying to get away. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing exactly why Jean was saying this to him.

“No… You’re not real…”

“Everything you love is destined to death and chaos, Logan. You shouldn’t be there,” Jean continued, her eyes switching from her usual tone to a deep black. The ground began trembling under their feet with each step of her, wind building up around. Logan felt truly scared, but somehow he couldn’t run, just stand there as she approached. “All she will know is a life of suffering if you stay. She doesn’t need that.”

“Jean-”

“She doesn’t need you!”

“Jean!”

And then it happened so fast. His claws buried on her chest, the Phoenix disappearing and leaving her to die. Jean collapsed against his body and Logan reminisced about the events of that battle, where he had to choose to be selfish or liberate her from her own demons. Logan wasn’t sure why he stabbed her like this. And when he thought Jean was dead in his arms, she started to call his name again. This time, he heard it far away.

Logan.

Logan…

Logan!

His eyes went wide open. And there you were, by his side on the bed, calling for him with a pain grimace on your face. His claws buried on your stomach.

“Logan…” you gasped and he pulled the claws out, but you were already bleeding, your nightshirt and the mattress stained.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- I-”

“It’s okay,” you managed to say as he caressed your cheek before taking you in his arms hurriedly and quickly made the way out of your room through the halls. “The nightmares… I know, Logan…”

“God, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Hank!” Logan stood outside the scientist’s door. “Hank, I need your help!”

The commotion caused some of the students to peek from their doors, and Logan waited outside what he felt it was forever under the gazes of the teenagers. It wasn’t the first time he had caused the same accident. The door opened, finally revealing a sleepy Hank putting his glasses on.

There was no need to explain what had happened.

—

“She’ll be stable soon,” Hank informed once he let Logan inside the med bay. “If you hadn’t brought her soon…”

Logan swallowed the knot on his throat, watching your unconscious figure on the stretcher. You already had received blood to cover up what you lost because of the wounds, and Logan’s claws were not minor weapons. His mind was a mess, confusion taking over. He didn’t know how he let this happen. He had nightmares pretty often, yes, but nothing like this.

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe she was trying to warn him about something. Or Jean was just trying to protect you from him. The last one felt more realistic. Logan wouldn’t hurt you, not ever. You talked about how dangerous it was to sleep together not so long ago, but you had insisted on staying. It was the first time something felt so damn real in his dreams and he wished you wouldn’t let him in your room that night…

“She’ll wake up, right?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely,” Hank nodded. “I will need to monitor her vital signs though, hopefully within a day or two she will be normal again… At least she’ll be stable until the wounds heal completely.”

Of course, Logan thought. You didn’t have a healing factor just like him.

“I’ll be right back,” Hank announced before stepping out of the room, leaving Logan alone.

He felt so guilty for doing this to you. For everything. For being the cause of your suffering now. He was a threat and mentally unstable. He was strong thanks to his genes, but he was weak on the inside. He promised countless times to protect you, but he couldn’t avoid hurting you himself. It didn’t matter that it was a very bad dream that felt disgustingly real, he had failed and hurted someone who truly loved. Again.

Taking your hand gently into his, he leaned to plant a kiss on your forehead, wishing it would be just another game from his mind.

But it wasn’t. Now, he had the person he loved the most lying unconscious and hurted because he would let his darkest thoughts consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching you sleep peacefully. “I should have said it sooner.”

PART TWO

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #logan howlett x female reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #logan howlett angst #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine angst #james logan howlett #x men fanfiction #wolverine fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman wolverine

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nerokoma · 7 months ago

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heads up! — NOTHING (26/30)

1.1k words

“Thanks again for the ice cream.” You let out a chuckle as Kuroo took a seat on the curb beside you. “Even though you really didn’t have to.”

The boy only smirked, shrugging as he opened his ice cream package. “I’m only being a good host, considering we’re in my city.”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you took a bite of your own ice cream. The sun had already set, the light from the convenience store illuminating your figures and casting shadows onto the ground in front of you. The city had grown quiet, the store conveniently located on a quieter street in the neighbourhood, away from the loud, metropolitan area.

“It’s really nice to be back though,” you said, an air of wistfulness in your voice that quickly disappeared as you looked at him in excitement. “I was watching your match earlier! I’m glad you guys made it through.”

Kuroo looked at you with a teasing glint. “Were you doubting us? I’m hurt, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Not for a second,” you answered. “I just know how excited our teams are to face each other again.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Kuroo said with a small chuckle. “The first years have so much energy. I’m jealous, honestly.”

You nodded, laughing. “Ours too. I have no idea where they get all their energy from. Maybe it’s all the snacks I give them.”

“Speaking of snacks, what were those cookies you gave us when we first went to Miyagi?” he asked, tilting his head. “I’ve been thinking about them for months. I think they’re the best cookies I’ve ever had.”

A frown made its way onto your face as you thought back, and in that moment, Kuroo’s eyes fixed on you with a soft smile as he studied your focused gaze. The moment your eyes lit up in remembrance, he immediately glanced away.

“Ah! Those were specialty cookies from a local bakery in our town! The owners were so sweet and gave me a discount because I ordered so many.” You grinned at him. “You should have told me sooner! I could have brought you some.”

The boy let out a chuckle, taking another bite of his ice cream. “Sorry, that’s on me.”

“It’s alright,” you said with a smile. “Just let me know if you ever come back to Miyagi. I can show you the bakery.”

Kuroo smiled at you, his gaze lingering on your figure for just a second too long. He gave a single nod before looking away.

“Are you planning on staying local for university?” he asked tentatively.

You opened your mouth to speak, though hesitated for a moment.

“I…don’t know yet,” you admitted. “I’ve applied to a couple places around the country– even some outside of Japan. I haven’t decided where I’m going yet.” A small sigh escaped your lips. “And honestly, I don’t even want to think about it right now.”

“I understand,” Kuroo said, nodding. “It’s a lot to think of and decide in a short amount of time.”

Your lips tightened into a straight line as you nodded. “It feels like time is moving so fast. Like, a part of me still can’t believe that we’re actually here. In Tokyo! At the nationals! The boys have worked so hard for this.”

Kuroo pointed his ice cream cone at you with raised eyebrows, a stern expression on his face.

“What did I say before about selling yourself short?”

“Sorry, sorry. We worked so hard for this.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “But really, if you told me a year ago that we were going to make it all the way to nationals, I don’t think I would’ve believed you.”

“How did you end up as a manager anyways?” he asked, glancing sideways. “Some teams don’t even have one manager, let alone two.”

A small chuckle escaped your lips as you took another bite of ice cream.

“It’s all thanks to Kiyoko, actually. I wouldn’t have touched volleyball with a 10-foot pole if it wasn’t for her.” You paused for a moment as the memories from years before came flooding back while Kuroo watched you curiously. “I told you before that Daichi and I hated each other in first year, didn’t I?”

Kuroo nodded, remaining quiet as you continued.

“I actually had the biggest crush on him at the time, like, embarrassingly so. When he approached Kiyoko and I to ask if we wanted to be managers, I almost said no because it made me so nervous to be near him, but Kiyoko convinced me to join because she thought it would be fun for the both of us. I was so afraid he’d find out I liked him though that I started avoiding him and acting coldly. But Daichi thought that meant I hated him, so he started acting coldly too, and it was this whole back and forth of us being purposefully mean out of spite. We only snapped out of it when the other third years locked us in the equipment room and didn’t let us out until we worked things out.”

“How did that work out?” Kuroo asked. His voice had quieted slightly, though it went unnoticed by you.

“We both apologized for how we acted and agreed it was really childish, and we’ve been chill ever since. I’m glad we did- things would’ve been hard if a manager and player hated each other. Plus, he’s a really great person and my life definitely would’ve been missing something if we’d never made up.”

“Did he know that you..?”

You shook your head. “Nope, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he figured it out at some point.” You turned to the boy, expecting his usual cheeky grin, though confusion spread across your face when you were met with his serious expression, a distant look in his eyes that you’d never seen before. “Kuroo? Is something wrong?”

“Wha-? No. No, everything’s fine.” Without warning, he brought himself to his feet, quickly brushing himself off. You quickly followed suit, not taking your eyes off him as he pulled his phone out. “Sorry, I just- I forgot there’s something important I had to discuss with my team tonight.”

Although confused, you nodded, slowly following him as he began stepping away. “Oh, that’s ok! Did you wanna walk back tog-”

Kuroo shook his head, not meeting your gaze as he continued to walk away. “Sorry, Y/N. I really need to go,” he said. The boy turned and began sprinting away, leaving you standing in front of the convenience store by yourself.

“What just happened…” you mumbled to yourself, glancing down when you felt something wet on your hand.

Your ice cream had begun to melt, dripping down onto the sidewalk as you watched his figure grow smaller with every second that passed. However, there was nothing you could do about that, nor did it seem like there was anything you could do about the ache in your chest as you turned and began to walk back on your own.

kuroo’s got his priorities straight: make the battle at the garbage dump happen, win nationals, go to university, and maybe win the heart of the rival team’s cute manager along the way.

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taglist: [closed] @thea-herondale @m00n1sms @staygoldsquatchling02 @sunathnker @gumims @hanadulsetaad @justanotherweeb666 @rrosiitas @fushiguruuzzzz @hashxu @starry-magicshop @msxmeow @pookalicious-hq @corvid007 @s6rine @hwanghyunjinismybae @mayyhaps @lorisheaven @doublasting @liliabrary @xinxinpeh @miamonster77 @meowzool @joseimukeaddict @sickpatientt @ursafehaven @dwkkiu @katnot-cat @dira333 @strawberriipi @anteroz @bcuzdestiel @azharyy @kukkurookkoo @naminexe @istann @lillysbigwilly @arisaturn @nobodybutnnoorr

a/n: kuroo was supposed to be so much more of a red flag but i couldn't do it. i'm sorry. i physically cannot i love him too much

#pov.headsup!#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu sns au #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo fanfiction #kuroo tetsuro smau #haikyuu social media au

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finnbbl · 1 year ago

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Hold onto me

Bang Chan Written

Prompt: With your stressful life, it wasn’t easy to find a healthy way to cope. When Chan finds you at your worst, he makes sure to let you know that you’ve always got him to hold onto.

Genre: Angst/Comfort

Gender Neutral Reader

- Warnings: Panic attacks, mention caffeine OD implied (if you squint) mentions of self harm, using excessive caffeine to cope, suicidal thoughts, i don’t think there’s any swearing?

- A/N: This was kind of a self comfort thing I wrote, but I know other people struggle with these types of things as well. I hope this can help someone out

- Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Please read disclaimer in masterlist

*click*

The sound of yet another can being opened. Your fourth, fifth, sixth energy drink today. It was easy to lose count when your mind was in a constant haze of self-deprecation, insecurity, and loneliness. Why should you be feeling any of this? You had a loving and amazing boyfriend who would compliment and reassure you daily. There should be no reason or excuse for you to live this way.

However, you let your mind get the best of you.

You continued to down your next energy drink within 5 minutes, rubbing your forehead as you continued typing your essay for college. Life stressed you out. Once you graduated, you moved on. Moving on to adulthood, college, work, you name it. Along with all these struggles, something a little more positive wiggled into your life. Your boyfriend, Chan. He was the sweetest guy you could ask for. Nice, caring, handsome, selfless, you wouldn’t trade him for the world. Your first four years weren’t bad, a little bump here and there but nothing like high school had been. Chan had found out how hard it was for you as a teenager. He’d walked in on a close relapse but was able to stop and comfort you. Help you recover, and you did.

Well, sort of.

That’s what Chan thinks anyway. It wasn’t a total lie, it had been a clean recovery for the most part. But as college got harder, the workload got larger, your social life got worse, and all that work to get better quickly dissipated. Of course, you couldn’t let him know that. Remembering the look on his face when you had explained what you used to deal with, and what it caused you to do to yourself. It was something you couldn’t bear to see again. So, you kept it hidden.

You kept it hidden by coping with it differently. Once you realized your previous method of relapsing wouldn’t work anymore, you turned to caffeine. Your previous method involved physically scarring yourself, and you couldn’t hide it. Any caffeine you could find. Soda, coffee, tea, energy drinks. Anything that could take your mind away from the horrible thoughts that clouded your mind. So there you found yourself, sipping on your seventh one of the day. Then your eighth, your ninth, the numbers continue to increase. Proceeding to drink them like they were water, unaware of the severe health problems it could lead to. Or maybe you were aware, and just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Bang Chan had no idea about it. It was something you could easily keep hidden by destroying the evidence. The empty cans and bottles weren’t hard to get rid of. And with your boyfriend having to stay later than usual to prepare for new comebacks, it was even easier.

You rubbed your eyes with your fingertips and yawned. The clock read 1:30 a.m. It was well after midnight, a time when most would be asleep, resting, and preparing to start their day tomorrow. However, it was a different story for you. Of course for Chan as well, although he had a different situation. Your fingers went away at the keys on your keyboard. You were determined to finish this essay, knowing you’d probably be assigned another one in a few days. Suddenly, your phone dinged. You groaned as annoyance began to flow through you. All you wanted to do was get this stupid schoolwork done and go to bed. As you were about to turn your phone on silent, something caught your eye. A notification from your friend group chat. All you could do was stare at the unopened message, watching as the amount of notifications suddenly began to get larger and larger. Some of your friends were interesting, definitely toxic but there were only a few you had left. In your eyes, it was better to have someone who treats you horribly, rather than having no one. You knew you shouldn’t, but your dying curiosity got the better of you. Next thing you knew, you were reading through several degrading comments.

All about you.

One of your friends had completely snapped at you. Half of your mutual friends had turned against you because of her twisted words. Suddenly, it was like you were frozen. Nothing felt real, and you weren’t a hundred percent sure of what was happening anymore. They were throwing insults at you left and right, and you were too exhausted to defend yourself. It wasn’t long before you zoned out, completely forgetting about the work in front of you. Letting all the negative and self-degrading insults cloud your mind. You began to bathe in self-doubt thanks to the toxicity. It had been like this for years, that one specific friend turning everyone in your life against you. It’d cause you to have an episode, she’d apologize and guilt trip you. And you somehow fell for it. Despite all this, you had a couple of friends who stuck by your side no matter what. Aware of how manipulative she could be, they understood and sympathized with you. This was how it always was. Constantly being drowned in school work and stress, your suffering continues to grow with the emotional abuse. Those thoughts were quickly interrupted as you saw headlights shine through the windows of the living room. Chan had arrived home.

The headlights soon flashed off. Only moments later did Chan slowly and cautiously open the front door. He attempted to keep the noise level down, expecting you to be asleep. Much to his surprise, you were at the dining table in front of your computer. “Baby, what are you still doing up?” He asked sweetly as he shut the front door, locking it back. “Oh, hey Chan. How was your day?” You asked him, completely ignoring his question. Taking another sip of your newly opened energy drink, your eyes didn't leave the screen. You wanted to get this over with and do your best to push out all the self-hatred that your friends dispersed into you.

His eyes briefly darted to the drink that sat on the table next to you, a tinge of worry shooting through him. It wasn’t unusual to find you up late, but it was currently almost 2 am. Doing his best to brush it off, he walked over and sat his things on the kitchen counter. “Not sure how well you’ll sleep with that caffeine in your system.” He said in a joking manner, but also in hopes of bringing you to your senses. Nothing else was said, silence painted the room with only the sound of your typing. He glanced over at the screen, seeing the endless pages of words, that’s when Chris began to wonder…

“How long have you been working on that? Maybe I can help you so you can get to bed soon.” Chan said as he walked over next to you. He put one hand on the back of your chair and his other on the table, leaning down to get a better view of the computer. It was clear he was concerned. “It’s fine, Channie. I’ll get it done within the next uhhh.. couple hours?” He was in disbelief at what he was hearing. Although you stayed up late, you never slept after 12:30. The fact that you said you’d be done when it was nearing sunrise? It shocked him. “Maybe you should just finish this tomorrow, it’s getting late y/n-“

“I know it’s late, but I need this done tonight.” Cutting him off with a sharp tone and briefly looking up at him. He took a small step back at your sudden change. “Just go to bed, i’ll be there soon.” You turned back to your laptop, running your fingers through your hair. Chan could only stand there as he tried to process what had just happened. Sure you weren’t harsh, but you’d never talked to him like that before. After a few minutes, he decided he would clean up around the house a bit. With him being at work all the time, and you busy with college and your job, the house had collected more than dust. Chris already couldn’t sleep well, and knowing you were acting like this would have made resting impossible. He thought that keeping himself occupied until you were done would help. One by one, he went through every dirty dish, every dirty piece of laundry, and every dog toy scattered around from Berry who he now kept with you two. Over an hour had passed, and you still weren’t done. He wasn’t even sure that you realized he was still in the room.

Mutually, he hadn’t even noticed you had opened up two more energy drinks since he’d been here until he saw the cans on the table. He furrowed his eyebrows. One this late was one thing, but the two large-sized energy drinks afterward were another. Something about that irked him, he was big on health. However, he figured you’d had a long day, so he kept his mouth shut as he finished cleaning the house.

Then, his eye caught something.

The trash can. His mouth practically fell open when he saw it, shocked by the amount of empty bottles and cans. Just how much caffeine have you consumed today? Chan had many discussions with you about your health, it was one of the most important factors in life to him. And it was unusual for you not to take care of yourself, he wasn’t sure what to think.

“Y/N..“ he started and caught your attention. You hummed lowly in response, with only silence to follow. He was still in shock, he’d never expect someone like you to care so little about your health. His tongue dragged along the inside of his cheek, doing his best to keep calm. “Just how much caffeine have you had today..?” Chris asked you in a lecturing tone. You rubbed your forehead and sighed before briefly turning your swivel chair around to meet his eyes. “What?” Asking him as if you hadn’t heard. Your words were laced with annoyance, unaware of the events that were about to follow.

He couldn’t bring himself to answer you, only countering with another question of his own. “How many talks have we had about how important your health is?” Your boyfriend crossed his arms as you sighed once again. “I don’t see where you’re going with this.” He figured your head must have been too jumbled to pick up what he was putting down. Chan exhaled deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes. Frustration nipped at him as he bit his tongue so he didn’t say something he’d regret. You were slowly pushing him over the edge.

“You know what, how about we put this away for the night so you can sleep.” The male had realized he was going to have to do more than just talk to get through to you. He thought that resorting to calmer words and taking more action would work. But before he could walk over and shut your laptop, you protested. “What? No, I need to get this done. I’m not finished.”

Chris bit the inside of his cheek and sighed heavily. “Again, go to bed and I’ll be there in a bit.” You continued before muttering something inaudible under your breath. It wasn’t long before your body was facing the computer once again. Anger and frustration began to course through him. What the hell had happened to you? Usually, you were calm and thought carefully about what you put in your body, but now you refused to even acknowledge that your health was declining. Not to mention, you’d gotten snappy with him. “Y/N, it is after 3 in the morning. I’m tired, I know you’re tired. Let’s go to bed and talk about this in the morning-“

“God Chan I do not need you lecturing me right now. I have shit to get done!” Cutting him off and whipping back around in your chair, you left him standing there dumbfounded. “For once, worry about yourself. I don’t need you standing over my shoulder telling me what to do.” The two of you locked eyes briefly. You don’t know what it was and what made you speak to him like that. Was it the stress? The caffeine? The self-hatred? Maybe it was a mix of it all that finally sent you over the edge. Your boyfriend clenched his fist as tears started to gloss over his eyes. A glint of hurt flashed over them before he finally snapped back.

“You know what? I don’t care anymore Y/N. Obviously, you don’t care about your health so don’t expect me to be there when fall to the ground of a heart attack!” His words shot right through your heart. Reality hit you. Immediately, your body shot up out of the chair, “Chan-“ Before you could apologize, you heard the bedroom door slam. You jumped at the loud noise. You could feel yourself start to disassociate, and it wasn’t long before you found your head buried in your hands. Silent sobs escaped through your lips. You weren’t even sure when your body gave out as you collapsed to the ground. The weight of the past month’s struggles all came crashing down on your shoulders at once. How could you be so stupid? The one person you knew you could count on to take care of you and keep you safe, you had pushed away. Realization hit as you glanced over to see the amount of caffeine you’d ingested in only 24 hours. As if on cue, your body finally started to react to it. Your heart felt as if it was beating out of your chest, your body got jittery and you’d only just noticed how much your anxiety had spiked.

A curse seeped through your lips as your cries got unnoticeably louder. At this point, your body and mind refused to forgive you. You started breathing heavier and faster as you found yourself hyperventilating, going back and forth between wanting to get better and wanting it to end. Your mind only brought back horrible memories as intense anxiety ran through your veins. The only sounds that filled the room were your cries, and the refrigerator humming in the background. It added such an eerie and unsettling feeling.

Meanwhile in the bedroom was Chan who had now changed into his sleep clothes. The events of the past few hours raced through his mind on loop. Beginning to replay your actions of the past month in his head, he searched for an answer on why you would be acting like this. You had hurt him, but it wasn’t deniable that you were most likely hurting too.

Hurt people, hurt people. He wasn’t angry, he was just worried sick. It was obvious you had been acting off, but he never knew you turned to caffeine to cope. And as if the male needed any more confirmation, the sound of your suffering slipped right through the walls to his ears. His body moved before he could think, immediately jumping up and making his way to the door.

As he opened it, he realized just how miserable you must’ve been the past month. Usually, he was one to check up on you. Doing small household tasks together and letting you rant about your day, then listen to his. But recently, that had not been the case. Something must’ve been going on that you refused to tell him. You were unaware that you’d caught his attention until you felt two strong arms wrap you in a warm embrace from behind. Your body immediately acted as you threw yourself up and into his arms. “Shh shh, it’s okay sweetheart.” Chan rubbed soothing circles over your back as he noticed how worked up you were. “Baby you’re shaking,” He briefly pulled back to meet your eyes. His fingers found their way under your eyes as he wiped away the tears that poured down your face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

You dug your head into the crook of his neck, continuing to mutter out apologies to him. “Please don’t leave me, please..” You begged him in between sniffles, which caught him a bit off guard. His lips poured into a frown. “I’m not going to leave you, why would I do that?” Chan’s tone was soft and comforting. However, the question flew through one ear and right out the other.

“I don’t want to hurt anymore Chan, please..” Confusion glossed over his eyes, you don’t want to hurt anymore? What were you talking about? His hands lifted your chin as he pulled his body back slightly to face you. “Slow down, what do you mean?” Worry made its way through his body, it was only then that he noticed just how much you were shaking. “I don’t want to do it anymore Chan, I can’t take it..” Unintentionally, pleas slipped right past your teeth. His eyes looked into yours with sympathy. “Oh, honey..” This was always something you did your best to keep hidden from him, your poor mental health. Chan was a very sweet person. Whenever he noticed that someone he loved was hurting, he made them his priority. Oftentimes, letting his health decline in the process. You had refused to let that happen. Not to mention, you weren’t sure how long he’d want to stay after seeing how weak and vulnerable you could be. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe he loved you, but your mind told you otherwise.

“What’s going on, what’s making you think like this hm?” His hand stroked through your hair, doing every single action of reassurance that he could. God how he hoped it was working. “I.. Everyone hates me and.. and I didn’t even do anything!” You suddenly broke. However, he didn’t scream, insult, or push you away. Quietly and patiently, he waited for you to continue. Making sure to keep you in a warm embrace, he did his best to soothe you. “And I’m drowning in school work and I’m just..”

"Is this about…" Chris suddenly asked you. This wasn't the first time you had come to him with a problem like this, but it was the worst by far. Your glossy eyes glanced up at his, your lips quivering as you held back tears. As if on cue, a ding was heard from the table. Followed by a few more and you immediately knew what was happening. More tears spilled down your face as you avoided eye contact. Curious, Chan looked between you and your phone. Hesitantly, he grabbed it. Anger started to run through his veins as he scrolled through all the chats. He only read a few before he decided to put it down. If he didn’t stop now, he wasn’t sure that everyone would make it out alive. The male turned back towards you, as he gently motioned for you to sit down on the floor. You began to sway, which worried him. Gently, his hands found yours. “Baby, I love you so much you know that?”

“And I want to respect whatever decisions you make because after all, it’s your life but..” He glanced back and forth between your two eyes as you waited for him to continue. This was something to be gone about carefully, the phrasing couldn’t be too harsh. “You have got to cut them off, they’re not good for your mental health and it’s starting to worry me.” You glanced up at him and then at the floor. He was right, there was no denying that. Healthily dealing with things like this was hard for you. “But.. I’m scared.”

“I know, I understand but… I’m concerned with the amount of caffeine you’re putting in your body.” Chan rubbed his thumb over your knuckle as your hand began to shake. “I thought.. I thought it would help distract me. I just wanted everything to end.” Your bottled-up feeling poured out like an ocean. Although Chan was thankful you were finally talking to him, he didn’t know what to do besides getting you help. That was going to be a challenge. “I just want you to be happy again, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you eat a whole meal. Much less anything other than caffeine.”

He sighed, “Look I know it may not be what you want to hear, but you need help Y/N.” Unexpectedly, you didn’t protest. “You need to go to a professional, can you do that for me? I’ll even go with you.” You inhaled and exhaled deeply. Doctors terrified you, which is probably why you never went willingly before. The last time you needed help, you had to be dragged there by someone. And most of the time it was Chan. Your eyes met his before slowly nodding, causing a smile to tug on your boyfriend’s lips. His hand went up to the side of your head, fixing your hair a bit. “Can you smile for me, please?”

You didn’t budge and he let out a playful sigh. “Come onnnn, pleaseeeee.” He stuck his bottom lip out to form a pout, one glance is all it took for you to fold, your lips curving upwards into a soft smile. A small giggle from him sounded as he continued to stroke your hair. “There you go… come here.” You glanced at his arms which were now open and welcoming you into them as you crawled into his lap. He rocked you back and forth muttering small positive affirmations to you. Chan was someone you would be forever grateful for. He always knew how to help and cheer you up. The mutual love you guys had for each other was unmatched. So there you two were, in each other's arms as a comforting silence began to take over. With all the caffeine in your system, you both knew it was going to be nearly impossible for you to sleep tonight. There was a long road of recovery waiting for you ahead. However, with Chan, you knew everything was going to be okay.

#stray kids #skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #bang chan #skz stay #stray kids comfort #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan comfort #skz comfort

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fluentmoviequoter · 9 months ago

Text

Whole Again

Requested Here!

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You're injured during a raid, but your boyfriend Luca doesn't know how bad it is. After you're separated and instructed not to speak, your team finds a way to let you comfort one another.

Warnings: angst, r is shot, a civilian is killed during a raid, fluffy comfort!

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“One more thing,” Hondo says as you approach the raid location in Black Betty.

“He’s going to hear us coming at this rate, Hondo,” you complain playfully.

“Maybe you can just talk until he surrenders,” Street agrees. “It wouldn’t take long for me.”

“Funny,” Hondo replies, even though you can tell he is amused. “You must want me to say something about the little fling going on here.”

“There isn’t a fling,” Luca calls from the driver’s seat. “And Hicks knows about the relationship.”

“But nice try,” you add.

“Stay liquid,” Hondo concludes, shaking his head as he smiles.

“Fifteen seconds,” Deacon alerts, sitting in the front by Luca.

“Let’s do this!”

You pull your helmet over your head and prepare to exit Black Betty as Luca stops three houses down from your final destination. The man holed up in the dilapidated bungalow down the road has warrants for three violent crimes and has racked up enough charges in fees from missing court over the years to pay off every student loan in America, you think. He’s dangerous, but you trust your team, and patrol officers have given you good intel. Right now, his house is as quiet as it gets. He should be inside, asleep, and likely won’t even know SWAT raided his home until he wakes up in jail later today.

“We got this,” Luca whispers beside you.

“Be careful,” you reply before splitting up.

Luca goes with Deacon to the west side of the house, and you branch off with Street to enter through the back door. Your relationship with Luca isn’t new, but it’s still growing. Luckily for today, you’re out of the stage where being away from him during a breach like this terrified you and it was hard to breathe until you saw him on the other side.

You take a deep breath as Street counts down with Hondo. The explosive on the door blows loudly, and Street leads you into the kitchen at the back of the house as you cover him.

Very quickly, you realize that all of the intel was bad. Hondo curses over the comms, and you begin yelling with your teammates.

“LAPD SWAT!” you yell with Street. “On the ground now! Everybody on the floor!”

The rest of your team is out of sight, caught in different parts of the house, but you can hear them shouting commands. In the kitchen and living room, standing before you and Street, at least 30 men are pushing toward you slowly, speaking to one another in Spanish when they aren’t yelling at you.

“Any ideas?” you ask Street.

“Flash bang?” he replies.

You nod and trade places with him, holding your gun against your shoulder. Several shots echo through the house as Street pulls the small flash-bang from his pocket. Unable to tell where the shots came from, if it was your team shooting or being shot at, you force yourself to focus.

“Back up!” you yell as a man steps toward you.

Just before Street throws the device, someone at the back of the crowd raises a pistol. You begin to warn Street, but you don’t get the chance. Before you hear the shot, the bullet knocks you backward and throws you against Street. He scrambles away from you quickly to keep the men away from you. Three flash bangs detonate simultaneously, and 50 Squad enters the front door to provide much-needed backup.

“Everybody good?” Rocker asks as patrol officers begin escorting the disoriented criminals out of the house.

“I think so,” Hondo replies. “Deacon and Luca are with me.”

Luca looks around, expecting you to walk out of the hallway joking with Street.

“Hondo!” Street yells from the kitchen.

Luca’s chest tightens, his heart feels like it leaps dangerously in his chest, and he steps forward to follow Hondo with pure fear running through his veins.

“Hold it!” Hicks calls, walking into the house with Jessica at his side. “20 Squad, get out of here.”

Hondo explains that something is up with you and Street, but Hicks repeats himself. Rocker nods and then disappears around the corner into the kitchen and doesn’t speak again.

“You can’t talk before the investigation begins,” Jessica adds.

“He didn’t make it?” Hondo asks, remembering the man who was shot.

Jessica shakes her head, and Hondo leaves the house without knowing how his team is. As Deacon prepares to follow him, he pushes Luca forward gently.

“I know,” Deacon says softly. “But we have to go.”

Rocker returns just as Luca stumbles out of hearing distance and requests a medic get inside. The same medic who announced the civilian DOA rushes into the house with a large medical bag bouncing against his hip. Street, however, is told to leave and grumbles as he exits the house.

“I’m fine,” you grumble as he kneels beside you. “It hit my vest.”

The medic pulls your vest over your head carefully, then unbuttons your uniform shirt and pulls the neck of your undershirt away from your chest. He shines a small flashlight against your skin before letting your shirt fall back into place.

“No hospital trip for you today,” he says. “You’re going to be sore and have a painful bruise for a few days, but your vest did its job.”

“Where’s my team?” you ask, hissing as you sit up.

“Headed back to HQ,” Jessica says.

You look up quickly, surprised to see her here.

“A civilian was shot, he’s dead,” she explains. “Until we figure out who took the shot, you can’t see them.”

“I need to tell Luca I’m okay,” you argue. “Two words, please.”

“I’m sorry.”

You stand, refusing her help as you follow another officer to a cruiser. As you fall into the passenger seat, tired and sore, you wonder how Luca will react to this sudden separation.

When you arrive at the station, you get permission to change in the locker room before taking your place in a private room to speak to Internal Affairs. The door closes behind you, and Luca steps out of the shower area, still wearing his tactical gear. He rushes toward you and carefully takes your shoulders as his eyes travel up and down your frame.

You take his hands and smile as you promise, “I’m okay.”

Luca hugs you carefully, though it's more him awkwardly wrapping his arms around you than hugging. “What did the medic say?” he asks.

Before you can answer or get too comfortable in his hold, an IA investigator opens the door and demands, “Officer Luca, we need you.”

“Can I get just a second?” he requests.

“No.”

You can see Luca’s attitude shift as he steps back. He doesn’t want to leave your side while you’re injured, and being forced to makes him grumpy. But he’s a good officer, and he’s going to listen. For a while, at least.

“I’m sorry, Luca,” Hicks says in the hallway. “But it’s protocol.”

“I don’t even know what happened to her!” he argues.

“And you won’t until after we’re finished. But I can promise you she’s okay.”

Luca stops outside the door where the IA team is waiting. He lowers his voice to reply, “She got shot, Hicks, you know she isn’t.”

Several minutes later, you exit the locker room in the most comfortable clothes you could find. After finding a place to sit and wait, you watch the hallway opening, hoping that Luca will come down here at some point and you can explain everything to him.

“Luca!” you call as he exits an office.

He steps backward, then turns to walk toward you.

“Officer Luca,” the officer behind him directs. “This way, please.”

Luca’s jaw tightens as his anger increases. The grumpiness he showed in the locker room was cute, you thought, but he’s getting worse. If you don’t get a chance to tell him what the medic said soon, he might snap and get himself in trouble. So, you decide to find an opening to promise you’re okay.

“Officer Luca,” the man repeats. You look up again, surprised to see Luca squaring his shoulders before the other man. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” he warns lowly.

Luca’s fingers tighten into a fist, but he turns and storms away. You exhale in relief, then stand and follow them at a distance. The officer instructs Luca to wait by the sparring ring, then walks into Hick’s office.

Because he’s alone, you walk to Luca's side and bend forward to kiss his cheek. After kissing his cheek, you begin to pull away from him. “The medic said I’d be sore and bruised for a while, but the vest kept the bullet from doing any real damage. I’m absolutely okay, Luca. I promise.”

Luca nods, and says, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You walk away from Luca and feel his eyes on you until you turn the corner to return to your previous place.

“Where were you?” Jessica asks.

“I needed a tissue,” you lie. “Are they ready for me?”

“Not yet. Do you need anything?”

You sit down and shake your head. The only thing you need is Luca, and you already know the answer to that request.

You let your eyes close as you continue to wait. Soft footsteps echo in the hallway before they stop beside you. You recognize Luca’s touch as he lays his hand on your thigh and squats beside you. Opening your eyes, you smile and lean forward to wrap him in a hug. He reciprocates, being careful of where he touches you.

“Incoming,” someone warns from the end of the hall.

As Luca stands, you see Street standing guard and smile to thank him.

“We’re going to get time to talk,” Luca promises. “I’ll be back.”

You assume that the rest of your team will assist him in returning, likely aware of how worried he is. Over the next few hours, you’re all in and out of interviews with IA to account for every move and every breath you took in the house. Between those conversations, you and Luca find each other in quiet hallways, behind open doors, and tucked behind lockers for tiny moments to talk and show each other that you’re okay. The worry goes both ways: Luca is worried about your injury and you’re worried about his happiness and carrying residual concern about losing sight of him during the raid. The little moments aren’t enough, but they’re something, and your team helps you find every spare second you can.

Hiding behind Hondo so it appears that he and Luca are simply facing opposite directions to bide time, you ask, “Can I come over tonight?”

“If you think there’s another option, we need to get your head checked.”

“Sergeant Hondo, we’re ready for you,” someone calls before you duck around a corner and return to solitude.

Twenty minutes later, Hicks and Hondo exit his office together.

“20 Squad!” Hicks calls.

You join Deacon’s side, and he offers you an arm, unsure what the extent of your injury is. You smile and thank him, but don’t have a chance to tell him why you said no before Hicks dismisses you.

“IA has cleared all of you, you’re free to go home and get some rest,” he adds. “Sorry again about all of this, but…”

“We know how it is,” Deacon responds.

You take Luca’s hand as you walk to the locker room, and don’t let go as you gather your things and walk to his truck. The ride to his house is spent in silence. There’s too much to say, too many emotions involved, to have the conversation in the car.

Luca helps you inside and invites you to get comfortable. Once you’re in his bed, he climbs beside you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. Turning slightly, you let Luca rest his head on your shoulder as his other arm lies gently across your waist.

“Are you okay?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back.

Luca moves slightly, and you suddenly realize that he’s crying. You slide down in the bed, not caring that it hurts, to take his face in your hands.

“Luca,” you murmur, holding him tightly. “It’s okay.”

You fall silent then and let Luca release all the emotions he’s been carrying since this morning. Several minutes later, he quiets but keeps his arm around you as you hold him.

“I’m okay,” you promise softly. “I’m sorry.”

Luca shakes his head, silently promising he’s not angry with you. “I thought I was going to lose you. It terrified me.”

“Hey,” you whisper, encouraging him to look into your eyes. “I’m never leaving you.”

“You can’t make that promise.”

You nod, then amend, “I’m not leaving you, not without a fight. I’ll come back to you, even if I’m crawling, okay?”

Luca hugs you tightly, then releases you to say, “Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?”

You laugh at his reaction, getting close to him again. “I’m great now. I love you, Luca.”

“I love you,” he replies. “I’m not leaving you either.”

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t punch anyone in IA.”

Luca groans, dropping his head against your shoulder. You feel whole again beside Luca despite the pain and fear of the day. Luca’s phone vibrates with a text from Street asking when Luca will cook to thank them for helping you today, and though you ignore it, knowing that your team cares about you and your relationship makes everything a little better.

#dominique luca x fem!reader #dominique luca x reader #dominique luca fic #dominique luca #luca x reader #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯#swat x reader #swat imagine #swat fic #swat cbs

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badaseyebags · 11 months ago

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hi hru?? ur amazingg

can i request a bada smut, when she comes back from dance class clingy and horny, but reader is cooking (idk, just doing something) and has to finish?

if u dont want/cant write this, its totally ok, dont feel bad and dont pressure yourself too much. love youuuu<333

but first.. dessert ⋆｡°✩ birthday cake

warnings: whiny/needy bada, she’s basically desperate, lots of making out, low-key cringe my apolocheese, it’s cute but it’s also not, bada herself.

word count: 1,5k

authors note: hi dear anon, first of all i would like to apologise for taking so so long to finish writing your request, and also hope you don’t mind me turning this into a birthday piece and not writing full on smut just yet! thank you for requesting, feel free to leave feedback (very appreciated) requests open <3

it’s currently 3 pm and bada’s class doesn’t end until 3:45, meaning she won’t be able to get home anywhere before 5pm. which means.. almost another hour or so of torture. the torture being her not being able to get her hands all over you as she would really wishes she could right now. all she has to do is distract herself for the time being before she can fulfil her wishes. simple enough, right? well it would be, if it wasn’t for the dizzying heat spreading trough out her whole body ..and for the naughty visions she created of you causing her to feel this way. if she could take you right now, right here in her studio, she would. no questions asked. no hesitation. she wouldn’t even care to shut the door, too impatient to get a feel, a taste, a touch, or anything she can. the way she would bend you over and watch you take her from behind and- okay, no. this was getting harder by minute. sometimes she’s thankful she wasn’t born a man, because she would have a “harder” time physically masking what you do to her almost 24/7.

the more she tried “distracting” herself, the more need she ended up feeling towards you. shaking her thoughts off, she continued showing off her dance skills, her movements becoming even more sensual than they usually tend to be. not that anyone minded, they were used to this by now. heck, they even appreciated it if they had to be honest. seeing her grind on the floor and smack the air was nothing out the norm, anyone would of thought she was just in her element. what they didn’t know was that she was imagining you under her the whole time, her cap covering her dark eyes that held nothing but lust at the moment. after what felt like long years it was finally time for her to leave. she didn’t even stay behind for a little talk session with her students as she usually does, politely excusing herself and dashing out the door. she was practically sprinting towards her car, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, making her knuckles turn white. she had one priority right now and that’s all that mattered.

meanwhile you were in the kitchen trying to be a sweet good girlfriend for bada, preparing a little birthday surprise for her. not that the breakfast you prepared for her this morning and brought to bed wasn’t enough, or you feeding it to her as her grin grew wider. but you really wanted to surprise her when she comes back. she shouldn’t be home for at least 30 minutes or more like a hour that she usually spends chatting in her studio after her classes. it’s her birthday after all and you’re sure her students won’t let her go so quickly without wishing her all the best and more. you planned to dress up real pretty for her once you finish baking, and according to the clock you still had plenty of time. you were currently wearing nothing but one of bada’s oversized shirts that didn’t do much to cover your body, stopping just in the middle of your thigh, and a cute little apron on top to prevent it from getting dirty as you decorated the first batch of your strawberry vanilla cupcakes, the other still baking in the oven. you had this cute little idea of assembling the cupcakes in the shape of a full cake. it would save a lot of hassle cutting uneven cake slices, you thought. you sigh, sleepily wiping your forehead with the back of your whipped cream covered hand, given that you’ve started baking right after bada’s tall figure left the door just so you could get everything ready in time.

your soft humming to the beat of the song playing in the background was interrupted by an abrupt sound of keys jingling, followed by the handle being turned. you turned your head in surprise blinking in confusion, heart dropping to your feet. feeling a little embarrassed and caught off guard since you wanted all of this to be a surprise, well.. it would of been, if you’ve gotten the chance to finish it. you didn’t even get the chance to fully turn around to face her, to give her a proper greeting before she eloped you in a tight back hug, her large arms securely wrapping themselves around your waist. a place they almost belonged. you could feel her, smell her, and even hear her before you could see her.

“bada! is it 5 already?” you turn your head slightly to get a peek at her unusually out of breath self. she’s in very good shape it’s not likely seeing her so out of breath, unless she just finished dancing, or in this case ran to her to you faster. she just shakes her head, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple making your heart flutter. “no no baby, i just couldn’t wait to get home..” she buries her face in your neck, inhaling your scent giving you goosebumps, her voice dropping a little lower. your ears perk up as you suddenly notice her breathing much heavier then usual, her sweaty hands gripping onto your waist a little more possessively than you’re used to. you tried to keep your composure and continue decorating cupcakes, acting as if nothing was going on, but bada’s strange behaviour had your head spinning.

was she… in the mood or something? your suspicions further confirmed themselves as the innocent sniffing turned into rushed pecks to your neck, gradually transforming to soft nibbles and messy kisses. your movements came to a halt, eyes widening as you heard her whine against your skin. “please.. i need you so bad… i had to come home early because i couldn’t help myself.” your hands grip the piping bag out of instinct, causing some of it to spill on the counter and all over your hand. “you’re gonna let me have you right… you’re gonna let me take you… please baby say you will.” she growled into your ear, her hands slowly sliding down your hips and under the thin fabric covering your skin.

“bada i.. i have to finish this, it was supposed to be a surprise-“ you weakly mumble as you feel her large hands rub over the bare skin of your hips. “let me finish you first… you didn’t even wear panties? is that another surprise for me? please, let me have a taste..” she was practically begging at this point, her chest pressed tightly against your back. you couldn’t hold back anymore, turning around to face her was a huge mistake. seeing her in this state only made you weak in the knees. her wavy hair all messed up, sticky bangs pressed against her forehead. cheeks flushed, sweaty clothes sticking to her skin, chest rising up and down with her glossy eyes staring at you with pure desperation. you look up at her admiring her beauty as you cup her cheek, some of the whipped cream leaving a stain behind. she was quick to catch it, her tongue sticking out to lick the remains of the sugary cream as she held your hand against it, moaning softly as she closed her eyes. you’ve decided you had enough, you couldn’t even handle it anymore. with little effort you pulled her face to your level, catching her off guard. her hands fell on the counter behind you, successfully trapping you in the middle as you gave her the softest most gentle loving kiss and pulled away. she whines leaning into another kiss but you pull away again with a gentle giggle to tease her, just to rile her up more.

she huffs as she grips your hips, effortlessly lifting you up on the counter. one of her hands cups your jaw and the other rests on your thigh as she forces herself between them, crashing her lips against yours. this kiss being anything but gentle, unlike the previous one. your arms instinctively wrap around her neck to pull her in closer. she suddenly bites down on your bottom lip, making you shriek but all she does is shiver and kisses you harder, her lips sliding down your jaw and all the way to your neck, painting it in multiple hues of red and purple. you grip onto her hair, partly to make her slow down and partly because you wanted more. “bada slow down, what are you doing-” you lean your head back nonetheless giving her more access to your neck, skilled hand undoing the messy bow of your apron. “decorating my cake before i get to taste it.” she mumbles against your skin, nipping harder as she tosses the apron aside. her kisses trail up higher once again, her voice soon interrupted by the sound of the oven timer going off, her lips swallowing all and any protests before they could ever leave yours.

#bada lee smut #bada lee fluff #bada lee x reader #bada lee imagine #bada lee #swf2 x reader #team bebe x reader #bada lee scenario #bada lee swf2

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sadesluvr · 3 months ago

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Omg pls don’t Laugh, i had an Idea for a Sugar Daddy Fiction for Kook! Pope. 🫣

So the idea is Pope is a Dilf! Reader secretly crushes on, him and Cleo are happily Divorced. Maybe Reader is a Cute College student watching his Kids for a Little extra Cash?

Now it doesn’t have to be Smut! 👀

But it would be greatly appreciated…

ft. DILF! Kook! Pope — gif by @insidekatmind !

SUPER RICH KIDS MASTERLIST

You muffled a cry as you gripped the ledge of the fireplace, the fat of your ass slapping against Pope’s clothed thighs. His trousers had been unbuttoned in a haste, barely making their way down his waist before he’d entered you, almost immediately relieving the heat in your core.

The house was virtually silent, outside of the antique grandfather clock in the hallway ticking along to the sound of your joint pleasures. You hadn’t expected Pope to come home tonight from his conference – and you certainly hadn’t expected to end your evening being fucked against a wall.

Pope Heyward may have grew up the nerdy, somewhat awkward son of a fisherman, but he’d grown to be a sauve scholar, as intellectual as he’d been all those years ago. He’d taken the rare but envied ‘Pogue to Kook’ route, but had never lost sight of himself on the way, getting his PhD, settling down with Cleo and having two children, much to the delight of his family.

You’d only met Pope once, walking in from a night on the beach to your parents’ dinner party. He enraptured you from the moment you’d laid eyes on him; tall, with glowing dark skin and brown eyes like treacle. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt – certainly designer – that stretched over his broad chest, an arm folded as he brought a glass of wine to his lips.

“Oh, you’re back early!” Your mother practically clapped before her face fell. “What have I said about bringing sand in the kitchen?”

You cast your eyes to your clothes – indeed peppered with sand – and before you could speak, Mr Heyward had finished your sentence for you.

“I used to be the same,” he hummed. “Pops hated me running about. There were nights I wouldn’t come back - at least she came home.”

Your mother smiled softly, but you could tell she was very much still hung up on the issue. Mumbling a quick sorry, you were about to disappear to your room completely when she perked up again.

“This is Mr Heyward – he teaches Masters at your college. I’ve been begging him to come over for ages!”

You chuckled, but there wasn’t much funny.

“You must be busy.” You commented.

“I am,” he chuckled awkwardly, rubbing a finger over his perfectly groomed goatee. “Nothing prepares you for a divorce whilst you raise two kids under eight.”

“Oh,” you said flatly, wishing you’d never asked. “I’m sorry…”

“Your mother tells me you babysit?” He questioned, taking you off guard. “I have an interview next Saturday, and I need to be at the station for 9:30. Do you think you could watch Cara and Huey for me?”

In truth, you hadn’t had the heart to tell him that you didn’t feel that being a lifeguard at the local pool made you a babysitter, but you went with it anyway. Well, that and the fact that Pope Heyward was a total DILF.

Tonight Pope had been out to a conference a few towns over. On these occasions you found that he generally stayed the night; choosing to make the drive in the morning instead, so it was a great shock when you’d heard his car pull up in the driveway at around 1am.

There he was, the top of his shirt unbuttoned as he strolled through the foyer and into the living room, blazer draped neatly over his arm.

“I thought I told you to sleep in the spare room?” He said, bending down to switch on the light, a warm hue dotting around the room. “Cara doesn’t like the dark.”

“She’s getting better,” you insisted. “I asked if she needed me and she said no.”

Pope sighed, exhaling softly from his nose. There was a sadness to it that you weren’t sure if you were supposed to detect.

“I thought you were coming back in the morning?” You said, sitting upright as your shirt slid slightly down your shoulders.

“I’m too busy thinking,” he chuckled. “And I thought it would be nice for me to make you all breakfast for once.”

“Don’t think about breakfast,” you shrugged. “Just sleep, you must be so tired.”

“I used to pull all nighters in college, this is nothing,” He winked. “And as it just so happens you’re the one on my mind.”

You found out just what he was thinking when his lips were on yours, leading you to the fateful position you were in now. His grip was firm on your body as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, the perfect curvature of his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust. Desperate to stabilise yourself, you slid your hands in his, or groped at whatever was near you, careful not to knock down one of the many ornaments in the process.

“Shit…” you whimpered, eyes half lidded as you looked back at him. College boys could never live up to this. “Mr Heyward —“

“All these months and you still won’t call me Pope, hm?” He teased. “It’s like you’re doing it on purpose…”

He finished the sentence with a smack on your ass, and in your euphoria all you could do was nod.

“You’re so good to the kids…” he crooned, burying his face in your neck, goatee tickling your skin as he pressed down your lower stomach, holding you flush against his chest. “They love you. You’ll be a great mother, you know that?”

The idea made your stomach churn, and yet your loins tingled.

“It’s not right, but I want you…” He continued, his thrusts becoming sloppy, limbs knocking against the wall in the process. “I want you in my arms at night. I want you in my desk, in my lap — You drive me crazy, babygirl…”

Your eyes met in the mirror, and Pope seemed determined on making you cum there and then. A graceful sheen glazed his forehead as he pressed impassioned kisses along your body, humming and sighing at your response; no matter how big or small.

You squirmed as he reached down, his middle and index finger circling your clit as he worked you to orgasm. The act threw your against his chest, overstimulated by the way he continued to pump into you, cock twitching as his release drew near. Even as taboo as it was, you knew you were in good hands. At his core, Mr Heyward was a solid provider, insistent on taking care of you – in all the ways he possibly could.

That was why, after you creamed around his cock that night, you’d eventually be on his arm in a $500 dress, flashing an engagement ring as the next Mrs Heyward.

#florence writes!!#anon ask #my asks #pope heyward prompt #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward thoughts #pope heyward smut #pope heyward #kook! pope heyward #kook!pope #dilf! pope #obx smut #jonathan daviss

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jooyeonsvape · 5 months ago

Text

— bloodthirsty pt. 2

[ part 1 ]

genre; fluff, smut

pairings; vampire!jooyeon, female!reader, vampire!reader

w/c; 2k

synopsis; after 10 years of jooyeon turning [Y/N], the two stay together and are still as happy as the day she turned.

a/n; part 2 was requested by a few people so i hope it was what you were looking for!! i wanted to focus more on their relationship rather than a plot, so there’s a lot of fluff and smut!!

[ masterlist ] [ guidelines ]

going from a modern day buisness woman who strived to actively take down vampires at all costs, to falling in love with one must sound fantastical to others, but jooyeon's charms drew you in almost immediately.

it's been 10 years since you turned, and life is worth living now, especially beside him.

jooyeon comes out of the bathroom in your shared tokyo hotel suite, with a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair damp. "i thought you said you were joining me." he had his familiar smirk when you look up at the beautiful sight.

"i'm sorry baby, i can't put this book down," your giggles were contagious to jooyeon, they always put a smile on his face even if he was sad or angry. he walks to the side of the bed you were laying in and lays onto of you with a grunt, then looks up at you, "i'm going out later to hunt, are you coming with me?"

you kiss his cheek softly when he lays his humid body on you, "yes, i'm hungry." he hums at your answer and you could feel his head nod in your neck.

——

after 30 minutes of snores in your ear and jooyeon’s long wet hair spread over your face, you kiss his cheek again. “wake up joo, let’s get ready, the sun is down," you whisper gently in his ear but he just groans at your disturbance.

a smile spreads across your face at your sleepy husband as you play with his hair, “fine we can cuddle for a little bit more.” you knew he was happy at your statement when he started digging his head further in your neck and you give his butt a playful slap.

jooyeon rolls over off your body, so he was laying next to you on the bed now and takes you in his arms. “10 more minutes,” he mumbles but you roll your eyes, knowing him enough to realize if he falls asleep, the both of you wouldn’t eat at all tonight.

the growling in your stomach gradually increases as the minutes go on and you finally tap his shoulder. “it’s been 20 minutes my angel.”

no sound came out of him besides the soft snores and you huff, thinking of ways to get his eyes open. “you can talk to me all night about your favorite soccer players and i’ll actually listen this time….” nothing. “i’ll give you a full body massage.” nothing.

you huff again, tapping your chin as you think and an idea pops in your head. the towel around jooyeon’s waist was still loosely on, so you slowly pull it off, trying to not wake him up.

your lips pressed together at the concentration and it was successfully on the ground with him still snoring.

you look down to see one of his legs propped upward so you had a full visual of his bottom half and a blush spreads across your face.

even after all these years, you can proudly and confidently say he still makes you giddy as if it was your first time seeing him naked.

jooyeon moves his head from the inside of your neck to your shoulder and you thought he was awake but when you look down, his mouth was wide open like it usually is when he sleeps.

you let out a breath of relief then massage his porcelain skin with a gentle touch and admire his chest. your hand travels from his neck to his nipples slowly and swirling your thumb around the nub.

you usually didn’t touch his nipples like this, but watching them get hard by your touch made your teeth sink into your bottom lip.

jooyeons breathing grows heavier when you trail your fingers down below his naval and rub the area with a hum. “joo?” his snores cease but he didn’t reply so you continue, with caution so you disturb him.

finally, you reach his dick and an eyebrow raises when you notice it was fully hard. “are you awake?” you see one of his eyes open, then close when you look down at him.

he couldn’t hide his smile and you smack his arm, “butt head, you should’ve told me.” his chuckles were contagious, soon making you giggle as well. “continue baby, it’s relaxing,” jooyeon now had a smirk on his face and you nod, getting shy, now that he was watching.

your hand goes back to his dick and you grip his shaft with a hum. “i love you,” he whispers in your ear, your whole body covering in chills. “i love you more.”

he grabs your cheek and kisses your lips deeply, moaning in your mouth when you begin to jerk his dick in your hand.

jooyeon’s body jolts when you rub his leaking tip with your thumb and he bites down on your lip with his teeth. “fuck, please go faster [Y/N].” you do as he says, moving your arm faster and feel the wetness in your underwear gather.

as if he could read your thoughts, his hand slides in your panties, rubbing the juices all around your folds and you tilt your head back. jooyeon took the opportunity to sink his fangs into your neck and you moan loud.

although your vampire blood wasn’t particularly tasty, jooyeon could never help himself when he’s horny to bite you a few times.

your hand goes faster on him and you kiss under his ear, whining when he skillfully slid two fingers in your hole, while simultaneously rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“i love your whines [Y/N], and the sound your pussy makes when i finger it.” his voice turned into a growl when he speaks and you reach down to squeeze his balls to tease him.

“what else do you love?” you smirk and your pussy clenches at the thought of jooyeon fucking you hard.

“i love hearing you moan my name whenever i take your clit in my mouth and swirl my tongue around.” you groan at the mixture of his words and his fingers deep inside of you.

you get close to jooyeon’s face until your nose’s were touching and jerk him faster, “i’m about to cum joo.” you whisper and he smirks, his fangs hanging out of his mouth. “let’s cum together [Y/N].”

you nod fast and moan when jooyeon takes your lips in his. your stomach clenches and you knew you were going to cum any second but you waited for him.

when you saw his familiar face scrunch, you knew he was close too. “bite me baby please,” you whine in his ear and he does as you say, sinking his teeth in your already healed neck again.

on cue, the both of you cum at the same time, your legs shaking while jooyeon shot his load on your hand and his lower half.

the groans coming out of his mouth made you kiss his lips from how sexy it was and still jerking him slowly until his high rode out.

“mmmm, my good girl.” he whispers softly, the both of you trying to catch your breath. “i’ll wake you up like that everyday my handsome.”

jooyeon chuckles and kisses your lips again, “i’d like that, i would also like to go for round two.”

“i promise, i’ll go to round 6 if you wish, but can we please eat first.” jooyeon laughs at you and he sticks his pinky out, “alright, round 6 it is baby girl.”

you roll your eyes at his silliness and lock your pinkies, “now you have to promise to love me forever.”

jooyeon kisses your nose soft, “i promise i will love you until the day we die.”

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inmyheaddd · 9 months ago

Text

walkin’ out the door with your bags - grayson hawthorne x reader - part 5

⤷ “every second counts, i don’t wanna talk to you anymore.”

summary: you go over to the hawthorne house and end up leaving with a lot of new thoughts and ideas formulating about your best friend (?) grayson. wc: 2.9k masterlist || series masterlist — other parts!

previously on part 4…

“you said goodbye at the door once again, and this time, you felt brave enough to his kiss his cheek goodbye. the action took a lot of courage, even though he had practically been on top of you 30 minutes prior.

it was actually time for you to go to bed now, and you rolled over relentlessly. you couldn’t count how many times you replayed the moment over and over in your head.

you brought a hand to your mouth as you fought a smile.

grayson, the boy you’d known since forever. his lips, yours.

seriously, what was your life?”

—

you stood infront of the hawthorne house, tote bag in your shoulder with a large camera inside of it — graysons. you were here to return it, well, that was your excuse, but it wouldn’t be so bad if a certain blonde resulted in you staying a little longer.

you smiled at that thought and knocked on the door to the hawthorne house, then ringing the bell once you remembered that the likelihood of anyone hearing your knock in that huge house was very slim.

this time, you didn’t have to wait so long, or even text grayson, because someone opened the door within 2 seconds.

the face behind the door made you stall for a second. you weren’t sure who you were expecting; but it definitely wasn’t nash.

“oh!” you said in surprise as you took a slight step back.

“hey kid,” he drawled out, moving to the side so you could step inside.

he looked like he was just about to head out, motorcycle keys in his hand and his usual cowboy hat placed on his head. “how’re you doin’?”

a smile over took your features and grayson took over your mind before you could stop it.

“good, i’m doing good.” you exhaled, nodding almost dreamily.

“yeah? that’s good to hear.” nash sent you a look like he knew exactly what was going on with you and his brother. “i’m glad.”

you quickly remembered your purpose of the visit, the heavy camera in your bag serving as a reminder. “hey, have you actually seen grayson anywhere?”

xander, who was standing right around the corner with his disheveled school uniform, came into view. his smile faded with his brows furrowing as he looked at nash for a moment, before looking back to you.

“oh, he didn’t tell you?” xander asked.

you shook your head, feeling your smile start to make way for a frown of confusion.

“tell me what?”

xander tried to hide his surprise, “he’s on a business trip or something. he’s gone for i think…” he trailed off, looking up in thought, counting on his fingers.

“5 days,” nash cut in. “he’ll be gone for 5 days, kid.”

you felt your stomach drop a little. you were being dramatic— it’s not like he purposefully left you or anything, but why wouldn’t he tell you?

“i’m sure he meant to tell you, he’s probably busy back-loaded with work.” xander said enthusiastically, like he plucked the thought straight from your brain.

“come on,” he nudged you, a wide smile on his face. “you know how our little gray is.” he sang that in a way you would talk about a incompetent 7 year old. “he’s a man of very little words!”

this boy had a way of making you laugh when not a single part of you felt like you were capable of it. he was, in all ways but biologically, your endearingly annoying little brother.

you cracked a smile, letting a laugh escape your lips. “yeah,” you sighed, “yeah. you’re right.”

“when am i not?” xander grinned.

“…” you blinked at him, “i could name more than a few—“

“— that was actually what one would call a rhetorical question,” he interrupted with his brows raised, holding one hand infront of your face dramatically. “thank you.”

you snorted and looked over to nash, who shook his head down at the floor, seemingly in disappointment, but he had a smile on his face nonetheless.

your eyes landed back on xander’s, and in no more than a split second, a grin spread across his features and he quickly blurted out: “first to make it to the games room gets all the blueberry scones!”

he was already running halfway through the sentence. you quickly got to running and you were pretty sure heard nash leave through the front door behind you.

“what?!” you yelled, half laughing as you ran after him, “that’s so unfair! you didn’t even give me any time— you cheater!“ you huffed in annoyance but kept running, but you just couldn’t get ahead of him. “i never agreed to this, for your information!”

to literally no ones surprise, xander made it to the games room first, but he felt bad.

“here, take these ones.” he muttered, half chewing, as he placed 4 of his blueberry scones on your plate with the lemon ones on it. “i’m not that bad of a person.”

you both sat criss cross on the couch, a coffee table with far too many scones on it infront of you.

well, too much for you, but not for xander. this boys bloodstream was probably 30% scones.

“wow,” you deadpanned as you stared at the plate infront of you. “that might have been the nicest thing you’ve ever done for me.”

xander gasped in astonishment, his brows furrowed.

“surely not,” he gave you an look, a mix between confusion and incredulousness. “i’m always nice!”

you raised a brow, “no,” you hummed, “not really.”

“okay, then grayson must have really raised your standards of nice or something— which is strange, because nice isn’t really a word anyone would use to describe grayson— apart from you.” xander spoke quickly, “he’s literally only nice to you.”

you scoffed in amusement, “okay, first of all, no. and second of all,” you continued, “grayson is nice— and not just to me!” you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

okay, he wasn’t the nicest person to everyone, but you had to back up your … grayson infront of his brother.

“please,” xander rolled his eyes with sass, placing his scone back on the table as he pointed at you. “i see that smile on your face. even you know i’m right!”

“let’s change the subject.” you demanded, your cheeks flushing pink.

“okay,” xander piped up, “what is it with you and grayson recently?“

“… that’s not what i meant by changing the subject.”

“stop deflecting.”

“i am not deflecting!” you exclaimed— sounding like a whiny 7 year old. you caught your composure, “besides,” you said, taking your eyes to your lap and biting back a smile. “there’s nothing going on between us.”

xander was silent, so you took your gaze back up to him. once you were looking at him, he had the most bored expression on his face.

“you are undoubtedly the worst liar i’ve ever met.“ he couldn’t keep up the blank expression any longer and laughed mid sentence, making you laugh too.

“i am not lying!”

“yes you are,” xander raised his brows, “because gigi told me you kissed.”

your jaw dropped. “gigi what?”

“okay, don’t go all anti gigi here!” he raised his arms up as he scrambled, “in her defense, it took me 3 hours, 2 semi-cat nappings, and constant annoying for her to tell me, and she did look super apologetic when she did.”

you knew gigi was that one person you could trust with anything. besides, xander was one of your best friends too, you would’ve probably end up telling him today anyway.

the initial shock you felt was fading as you stayed silent.

“semi cat-napping?” you questioned.

xander shook his head seriously. “… hard to explain.” he said, “don’t worry about it.”

you were only more confused as a frown tugged at your features. “how can i not worry about that? i— never mind.”

“let’s get back on track here, you and grayson—“ a buzz from his phone cut him off, and he checked. “would you look at that!“ xander interrupted himself with a smile on his face, “he just texted!”

your eyes flicked to your own phone momentarily, like you were waiting to see a message from him too.

you didn’t.

your heart felt like lead in your chest, “oh, really?” you asked, feigning a smile.

xander saw through it like it was the clearest thing in the world, “what?” he put his phone

down, “what’s wrong?”

“nothing.” you shook your head, “what do you mean what’s wrong?”

“you have that million miles away look in your eyes,” he said. “something is definitely wrong.”

“xander,” you laughed, “i’m telling you, nothing is wrong.”

“and i’m telling you, i don’t believe you.” he deadpanned, then he shrugged as he leaned back. “i’m notoriously known for my ability to keep pestering people until i find answers, so, do with that what you will.”

“you’re so impossible.”

he grinned, like he hadn’t been expecting you to say anything else. “tell me something i don’t know. like for example, what’s plaguing your mind!”

you let out a nervous chuckle, shaking your head.

“it’s seriously nothing, xan.” he gave you another incredulous look, and you hesitated.

“i— it’s just… grayson hasn’t responded to me, and it’s been like… nearly a day?” you looked at your lap, voice quiter than you had intended. “but, then you just told me he responded to you.”

grayson always responded quickly no matter what. and even if he didn’t this time, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. that’s one of the reasons you came over, to talk to him for real. but then you found out he wasn’t even in the state.

you knew he had priorities. but paired with the fact that he just… didn’t mention he was gone, made you feel strange.

xanders brows only furrowed further, his playful smile flickering for a moment. he looked down confusedly at his phone for a moment like he was making sense of what you had just said, before looking back to you.

“oh please, don’t think so horridly.” he said as he nudged your shoulder, “you know it’s not like that, i… he’s probably just waiting for the right moment to talk.” he suggested, and despite his best efforts, you didn’t feel all that much better.

he still continued trying though. “i mean, he’s only texted me 3 word sentences, so i highly doubt he has much free time on his hands.”

“yeah,” you nodded, tucking your hair behind your ears. “yeah, you’re right. he’s always really busy, i don’t know why i’m overthinking this.”

“hey, it’s alright.” xander nudged your shoulder, a grin growing on his face as he thought if something to say.

you internally betted this was the part where he’d say something stupid to make you laugh.

“i don’t know about you, but i’d rather be overthinking than underthinking. unless it’s about problems, i like to not think about my problems at all— but anything else, i love to overthink. my brain is always whirring that way!”

yeah, you were right.

you let out a chuckle, “i don’t like under thinkers.”

the fact that grayson hadn’t responded to you was still lingering in the back of your mind, but you would let yourself wallow on that later. now, you would let yourself laugh and have fun.

“i think everyone would do themselves and the world a favour if they thought just a little bit more, especially before they spoke.” you joked, but there was a lot of truth behind it.

xander raised his hand for a high-five. “exactly!” he exclaimed, “although i may be… heavily guilty on the speaking before you think aspect— i agree wholeheartedly.”

that was exactly how fast topics changed with you and xander, you couldn’t stay on track for more than 5 minutes. for instance, when he told a story, he told around 6 side stories, introduced 10 new people, and ‘forgot what he was saying’ 12 times.

you’d he lying if you said you were any better at telling stories, though.

—

before you knew it, it was nearing the late hours into the night, and you were heading home.

the second you stepped out of the hawthorne house door, you turned on your phone that xander had forbid you from using.

he claimed it was because you were having ‘special quality friendship time’, but really, you suspected heavily that he was just trying to get your mind off of grayson, and looking for that response.

you shook your head at that, half smiling to yourself because xander always showed that he cared in the most xander like ways.

you sent gigi a text letting her know that you’d he home soon. and before you could even think, you found your fingers were moving by themselves.

of course, you were checking if grayson had responded yet.

(2 days ago, 9:46pm)

you

— I THINK I ACCIDENTALLY TOOK YOUR CAMERA — i put it in my tote bag before i left — sorrrryyy!!

grumpy blonde 👎

— It’s alright, sweetheart, you can keep it.

you

— oh okay — sweetheart — that’s. — new!!

grumpy blonde 👎

— My apologies, have I overstepped?

you

— nooo omg 😭😭 — it’s new but — in a good way — also i’ll drop off ur camera tomorrow or the day after

(today, 4:11 pm)

you

— hey, xander and nash told me you went on a business trip or something — how long are you gone for?

you had texted him that hours ago when xander had went to the bathroom for a minute, and he still hadn’t responded.

you let out a frustrated exhale you hadn’t even realized you were holding, and you could see your breath infront of you as a result of the cold breeze.

you rolled your eyes and opened your car door, slumping into your seat.

still, the back-and-forth, the silence—it felt deliberate. or maybe it wasn’t, and you were just projecting.

but if that were true, why wouldn’t he say something? anything?

you threw your head back against the headrest with a groan, closing your eyes for a moment to collect yourself.

you thumb hovered over the screen again. you wanted to say something—anything—but there was nothing left to say that didn’t feel desperate.

finally, you turned off your phone and tossed it onto the passenger seat, and started the engine. you told yourself you wouldn’t check again. not today, at least.

but as you pulled out of the driveway, headlights illuminating the dark road ahead, your phone buzzed. it was faint, you barely heard it, but it was there.

against your better judgment, you grabbed it at the next red light.

(Today, 11:49 pm)

grumpy blonde 👎

— 8 days.

you

— oh — okay thanks

now your heart was beating even faster, your stomach felt like it had been trampled on, and your chest was fully hollow inside.

all that time— and all he had to say was 2 words?

you wish you would’ve left him on opened, ‘thanks?’ what on earth were you thanking him for? you wish you wouldn’t have texted so much earlier— maybe you annoyed him too much.

you could feel your thoughts threatening to tumble very fast into places you didn’t want to go into, so you busied yourself with another task as you parked in-front of your house.

you

— hi nash — are you sure graysons out for 5 days?

nash 🤠

— 100% positive, kid. Why?

you

— nothing haha i just forgot — thanks though

okay, maybe nash just didn’t know? grayson wouldn’t lie to you, that would just be insane.

but then you texted xander again.

and jameson.

and even alisa ortega.

and they had all said 5 days.

why on earth were you the only one being left in the dark here?

worst of all, was grayson lying?

—

you sat in the car for another half-hour after that, trying to keep your thoughts at bay before you went inside with your emotions all written over your face, but it was like your mind was in a perpetual state of “it’s not that big of a deal, you’re overreacting,” ending in, “oh-my-god-what-the-hell-is-happening-i’m-so confused-and-hurt.”

you couldn’t stop your mind from replaying that one word he used in your last conversation.

‘Sweetheart’

you clenched your jaw. the frustration, the longing, the anger, the confusion—they all blurred together until you weren’t sure which one you felt more.

you finally decided it was time to get inside, you had texted gigi earlier that you were on your way, and you didn’t want to worry her by taking too long.

gigi hadn’t even heard you come in, she was so involved in the book she was reading that she had forgotten about the world around her.

so when you entered her room with no warning after you had showered, she almost jumped out of her skin.

she cursed loudly, “oh my god! you halfway scared me to death!” she yelled with a hand over her heart, sitting up fully as she shut her book and placed it beside her, flicking on the main overhead light.

her frightened state quickly dissolved to laughter, and you joined in as you sat down beside her on the bed.

a frown quickly pulled at her features, “whoa, what’s wrong?”

either you were the worst person in the world at hiding your emotions, or you just had annoyingly great friends who knew you and could read your face.

“nothings wrong,” you chuckled.

here we go again.

“um, something is very clearly wrong. you’re doing that thing where you try to laugh but it sounds like a muffled sad horse neigh. a very fake laugh.”

you weren’t sure if you were supposed to be offended. “that’s… a creative way of putting it.”

gigi raised a brow, “am i wrong?”

you looked away.

“exactly! now, tell me what’s up.”

you gave her a summary on what had happened, how you had asked everyone how long he was gone for and how he gave you a different answer, how he seemed to be avoiding you, and how you just felt so confused.

somewhere along the rundown, you both lay down on on your backs, and talked as you stared at the ceiling above.

“—god,” you shook your head as you sat up, “i feel ridiculous even talking about this."

gigi raised an eyebrow, still laying on her back. "ridiculous? you? no. you’re concerned. that’s different."

"am i not being crazy, though?" your voice cracked slightly as you looked down at her, and you hated it.

"i can’t tell if i’m overreacting or if something’s actually wrong. i mean, i know he’s quiet, but never like this. and the timing… right after we—“ you cut yourself off before you could let your mind linger on that moment. “what if i’m just… clingy or whatever?"

"clingy?" gigi snorted, crossing her arms after she got up. "please. i’ve seen clingy, and that’s not you.”

“you’re right, the timing of it all is crazy. i’d be ripping up furniture if i were in your situation.” she joked half heartedly, “you’re just… worried because you care about him. “and honestly, he should feel lucky you do."

"he doesn’t feel lucky right now," you muttered, staring at your phone on the bedside table again. the empty screen taunted you.

"or maybe,” she sang, “he’s just being a dumb boy who doesn’t know how to handle his feelings," gigi countered, nudging your shoulder. "seriously, you’ve met him, right? the guy’s a master at shutting people out when he doesn’t know how to deal.”

you didn’t know if you believed her, but there was something weirdly comforting in the idea that maybe, just maybe, grayson wasn’t doing this on purpose.

gigi’s smile returned, more teasing this time. “you might have to go get him, though. ‘cause, knowing him, he’s probably sulking somewhere thinking he’s doing you a favor by not texting.”

you blinked at her, the knot in your chest loosening slightly. "you think that’s what this is?"

"i think it’s possible," gigi said, her tone softer now. "but whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. and if not, we’ll egg his car together. sound fair?"

you let yourself fall on your back again with a sigh, half laughing despite yourself. “which one?” you snorted.

“all of them. helicopters too!”

“okay,” you laughed. “fair.”

“good. see? we’ve got this. you’ve got this. and if he’s still being weird when he gets back, we’ll corner him and i’ll flood his place with cats. he won’t know what hit him.”

you laughed in agreement, and turned off the lights, tucking yourself in the bed. you and gigi had 3 bedrooms in your apartment, but whenever things got rough, or whenever you missed your best friend, you found yourself in the same room 90% of the time.

after a few minutes of silence, the kind where you know you’re both awake, you spoke into the darkness.

“gigi?”

she hummed quietly, “yeah?”

“sorry for bringing it up again, but… what do you think i should do? about— about grayson.”

“don’t be sorry.” she muttered, as she turned her head to look at you.

“grayson, he thinks self inflicted isolation is the only answer when things get confusing. i guess you have to show him it’s not.” she said. “i think, i think you should just ask him, or talk to him.”

you hummed into the darkness, “yeah, maybe.”

but that was the thing about grayson hawthorne. simply asking what was wrong never got you very far.

“thanks, gigi.” you mumbled, and she turned back around, falling asleep promptly.

you turned over restlessly, even with the thick blanket covering you, you couldn’t shake the coldness off of you.

it was strange, how one incident could change your whole perception of someone so quick.

you knew a lot of things about grayson, but one thing you never would’ve taken him as was a ghoster.

part 6

a/n: sorry guys i couldn’t let them be happy for more than one part taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

@midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear

@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams

@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestuswa

#the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #gigi grayson #tig #the grandest game #tgg #games untold #grayson hawthorne fluff #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne headcanons #❦ jude writes #𝜗𝜚 walking out the door with your bags series

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